One of my oldest, and therefore one of my still-admired walks is by the way of Islington. I am partial to it, because, when I was eleven years old, I went every evening from my father’s, near Red Lion-square, to a lodging in that village “for a consumption,” and returned the following morning. I thus became acquainted with Canonbury, and the Pied Bull, and Barnesbury-park, and White Conduit-house; and the intimacy has been kept up until presumptuous takings in, and enclosures, and new buildings, have nearly destroyed it. The old site seems like an old friend who has formed fashionable acquaintanceships, and lost his old heartwarming smiles in the constraint of a new face.
In my last Islington walk, I took a survey of the only remains of the Roman encampment, near Barnesbury-park. This is a quadrangle of about one hundred and thirty feet, surrounded by a fosse or ditch, about five-and-twenty feet wide, and twelve feet deep. It is close to the west side of the present end of the New Road, in a line with Penton-street; immediately opposite to it, on the east side of the road, is built a row of houses, at present uninhabited, called Minerva-place. This quadrangle is supposed to have been the prætorium or head quarters of Suetonius, when he engaged the British queen, Boadicea, about the year 60. The conflict was in the eastward valley below, at the back of Pentonville. Here Boadicea, with her two daughters before her in the same war-chariot, traversed the plain, haranguing her troops; telling them, as Tacitus records, “that it was usual to the Britons to war under the conduct of women,” and inciting them to “vengeance for the oppression of public liberty, for the stripes inflicted on her person, for the defilement of her virgin daughters;” declaring “that in that battle they must remain utterly victorious or utterly perish: such was the firm purpose of her who was a woman; the men, if they pleased, might still enjoy life and bondage.” The slaughter was terrible, eighty thousand of the Britons were left dead on the field; it terminated victoriously for the Romans, near Gray’s-inn-lane, at the place called “Battle Bridge,” in commemoration of the event.
Pretorium of the Roman Camp near Pentonville.
The pencil of the artist has been employed to give a correct and picturesque [representation] as it now appears, in September, 1826, of the last vestige of the Roman power in this suburb. The view is taken from the north-east angle of the prætorium. Until within a few years the ground about it was unbroken; and, even now, the quadrangle itself is surprisingly complete, considering that nearly eighteen centuries have elapsed since it was formed by the Roman soldiery. In a short time the spirit of improvement will entirely efface it, and houses and gardens occupy its site. In the fosse of this station, which is overrun with sedge and brake, there is so pretty a “bit,” to use an artist’s word, that I have caused it to be [sketched].
The Old Well in the Fosse.
This may be more pleasantly regarded when the ancient works themselves have vanished. Within a few yards of the western side of the fosse, and parallel with it, there is raised a mound or rampart of earth. It is in its original state and covered with verdure. In fine mornings a stray valitudinarian or two may be seen pacing its summit. Its western slope has long been the Sunday resort of Irishmen for the game of foot-ball.