From the Temple to the Palace

We were walking through Greenwich Park with Emma.

‘What’s that pile of soil over there?’

A wheelbarrow, a couple of buckets and two people crouching.

Emma said it looked like archaeology… and it did… so we wandered over… as you do.

The trench had the tell-tale signs of a well dug hole. Crisp vertical sections and in the bottom a seed tray (classic).. with bits in.

A sandy pebbly soil.

‘We’re trying to find out how old this earthwork bank is’

Once they pointed it out I could see a low linear bump disappearing through the trees. They let me look at the finds. A few fragments of flint.. greyish, with crackle lines on. ‘Burnt flint’ I said sagely.

‘But we’re not the main thing’ they said ‘it’s all going on over there’

I looked over my shoulder… to where they pointed.

Unexpectedly, hidden in a woodland glade ….. was the ‘site’ !

If this was a film set there should be an orchestra, the thrumming of harp strings and a choir.

‘They’d be pleased to talk to you I’m sure’

…….

Driving through the back streets of Weybridge.. Dad points out the pile of soil.

‘I’m sure that’s an archaeological excavation’

There were lots of people doing stuff.. galvanised buckets and people on their knees scraping.

‘Do you want me to ask whether they’d let you help them?’

That sense of fear… all those strange people. What would I say to them? What would they think of me? But of course.. there was no real decision to make.. it would be a dream come true.

Dad parked up and I followed him round to the gates of a long brick building used as a scout hut

‘I know he’s young but he would love to be involved’ … and Sheila let me in (and.. ever since.. every time someone with that glint in their eyes asks me whether they can help on an archaeological site.. I remember that moment)

1969, Oatlands Palace. A narrow stretch of ground beside the scout hut. (Current Archaeology 10, 271-273)

One of the trenches had the brick outline of the second gateway into one of Henry VIII’s high end residences (Stourton Castle and Lacock Abbey on steroids).

The whole thing was knocked down in the 1650s, during the Republic, and then covered with houses.

Sheila placed me beside a teenager called Avril and we tickled the soil surface with our trowels, carefully placing pieces of Tudor stained glass window into our trays. Wonderful.

Up above, someone had planted a whole Tudoresque pot and the site supervisor had been set up to find it. She was so pleased and talked about the vessel’s significance until they let her down …and she cried. I can’t forget it..how cruel!

The great spoil heap.. and running up the ramps, emptying the barrows.. It felt like flying. Working together on something so… sparkling… electric. Though I didn’t say much.

They were selling paper ‘dig bags’ with unstratified finds.. with a fragment of tile, an oyster shell, a lump of palace stone. Mum bought me one for 2s 6d and I took the precious contents home.

I nagged my Dad to keep taking me there… and on the last day, they asked me to the end of dig party… in the hut.

I got to the door, heard the laughter, but could not go in. Mum and Dad watched me from the car…. encouraged me…but in the end, I shook my head and they drove me home.

………

And 55 years later ..what were these spoil heaps about ?

We walked through the trees… and a man welcomed us, as we approached the nearest trench.

I could see the Roman pottery in the trays… and dropping away below us, beyond the Greenwich Naval College, the whole sweep of London stretching out into the distance.

‘Great sections’ I said filling a space in the conversation.. and it was true, the trenches were very nicely dug. I didn’t want to take too much of his time… but I needed to know about this place.

‘I am an archaeologist.. not from round here, I work for the National Trust in the South West’

‘Oh we know Nathalie’ (London & South East NT Archaeologist) he said. ‘I’ll get the director Andrew to talk to you’ .

That was kind…and Andrew told me all about the Roman temple. Typically, built high on this vantage point with its fabulous views. We spoke of Iron Age origins (no evidence yet) other temples…Badbury Rings, Brean Down, Dolebury Warren… looked at the geophysics and then an excited man brought a silver denarius to him… Marcus Aurelius.

We walked to the Observatory terrace, tried to light the candles and shared out slices from Emma’s birthday cake.

My daughter is very understanding… as my father was.. all those years ago.

Yes, I think, even in retirement, the flame will never cease to burn.

……