The Bugle has news of a potentially stunning historic discovery, which could overturn the entire academic canon of Roman Britain...
The epoch making find is the work of the much respected authority on British history, Field-Marshall D. Cockton-Smythe.
"The rummest darn thing! Find of the century, but only because of a mix up at the hairdressers!" the Field-Marshall told The Bugle. Known to friends as Bumper, he has asked that the exact location of the find remain confidential until further investigation, to avoid any "tin-pot clad nancy's & galloping Guinevere's" creating "some bally brou-ha-ha."
This remarkable survival of Roman Britain has, it seems, stood unnoticed in a busy city street for centuries, overlooked by all, including himself, until recently.
"Been kicking meself, you know, " he said, "must have been going about in a dashed dream these last sixty years! Was like this: Henrietta-Marguerite was in the hairdressers, and some new little filly mixed her name up, result being some kind of disaster with extensions, whatever they are - thought barbers cut hair off, meself, but, horses & courses - and she's in there for an infernally long time, I'll tell you.
So, after cooling me heels too long in a favourite little novelty shop of mine, thought I'd have a dander to look at some flushwork I know. Trying to find a sheltered corner to light a bowl full of shag, I head south up a cobbled alley I don't normally tread. And I just saw it, framed by a bookshop & a no-right-turn, at a totally new angle, I guess, when bingo! - the denarius drops! Third Century, from pediment to architrave, fresh as the Pantheon, or I'm a Rear Admiral! Been trotting past it almost every day for donkey's, without seeing what was right under me nose! Could have blown me, I'll say."
The Field-Marshall contacted his peers for second opinions, and a crack team of the Ragged Society (RSAR) members soon formed, regardless of personal inconvenience.
"Can't imagine there were many ladies too happy about it, " he boomed, " me ringing up & saying look here, I've got a building Vitruvius himself wouldn't blink at, right next to an ice-cream stall and a bakers! Gregorious was tied up with a niece or something, but Esotericus was there like a rabbit in a kitchen garden, good man, Hodgeforth and a few other chaps, all of us goggle-eyed that we'd missed something so blindingly obvious."
A complete Roman period building, in a high state of preservation
seems to have not just survived the centuries in a busy urban environment, but fitted in with life around it.
"Built to last, y' see," explained Major S.G. Hodgeforth (Ret.) "with top-hole solid workmanship, and capable of absorbing different uses down through the ages - if it ain't broke, why pull it down & build anew? Of course it's got new bits, those window frames are later, and you can knock the clock & campanile off for starters, but the basic jobby's Roman to the core, and a beauty, too. Corinthian, marvellous capitals, and delightful lower rustication."
The Raggeds are certain this is a totally unique survival, though other authorities have been less forthcoming - The Bugle contacted local museum authorities for comment, but digital communication problems, vacations and a high level of staff unavailability meant no one could speak clearly.
The ancient building currently functions in everyday commerce, but the occupiers proved none the wiser as to the ancient pedigree of their workplace, as experiments with a little Latin-speaking quickly proved.
Not that this came as a surprise to some of the Ramblers. "Expected!" said Cockton-Smythe, "Who gets a decent education in this country anymore? All too busy shoving poppycock onto this blasted Internet-thing to even hear their own chatter, let alone anything useful."
Differences of opinion arise over the original purpose of the building.
"Flavian Ludus Gladiatorius," according to Major Hodgeforth, dismissing objections of the architecture being too ornate, as public entertainment was a big business.
"From here trained fighters would supply the amphitheatres of Britannia & Gaul," he said, pointing to chilling evidence of ancient bloodstains, still clearly visible.
Others cite the ornate dome within the building as more suitable for a temple, possibly to a local Romano-British deity. Esotericus was more circumspect: "Absences of evidence can be evidence of absent evidence, in many cases."
Cockton-Smythe was more certain of his ground.
"Happy Shop, Gentlemen's Relish Pot, Jupiters' Watering Hole, no doubt about it. Million of 'em all over the bally Empire, usual layout, on a slight rise for look outs, discretion and all, y' know, respectable as a Vestal Virgin outside, busy as a bag of frogs in. Clear these blasted shops away and you'll find the back door, wide & low to allow a few chaps at a time, bent double on the run, if wifeys came past. Excellent set-up, be-gad. They knew their stuff you know, these Romanum."
The Bugle keenly awaits further developments, to be published in these pages - tempus omnia relevat!
Posted by Esotericus on behalf of The Contributions Secretary
