Though the topographical historian, who resides upon the premises, is
most likely to be correct; yet if _he_, with all his care, is apt to be
mistaken, what can be expected from him who trots his horse over the
scenes of antiquity?
I have visited, for twenty years, some singular places in this
neighbourhood, yet, without being master of their history; thus a man
may spend an age in conning his lesson, and never learn it.
When the farmer observes me on his territories, he eyes me _ascance_;
suspecting a design to purchase his farm, or take it out of his
hands.--I endeavour to remove his apprehensions, by approaching him; and
introduce a conversation tending to my pursuit, which he understands as
well as if, like the sons of Jacob, I addressed him in Hebrew; yet,
notwithstanding his total ignorance of the matter, he has sometimes
dropt an accidental word, which has thrown more light on the subject,
than all my researches for a twelvemonth. If an honest farmer, in
future, should see upon his premises a plumpish figure, five feet six,
with one third of his hair on, a cane in his left hand, a glove upon
each, and a Pomeranian dog at his heels, let him fear no evil; his farm
will not be additionally tythed, his sheep worried, nor his hedges
broken--it is only a solitary animal, in quest of a Roman phantom.
Upon the north west extremity of Sutton Coldfield, joining the Chester
road, is _The Bowen Pool_; at the tail of which, one hundred yards west
of the road, on a small eminence, or swell of the earth, are the remains
of a fortification, called _Loaches Banks_; but of what use or original
is uncertain, no author having mentioned it.
Four hundred yards farther west, in the same flat, is a hill of some
magnitude, deemed, by the curious, a tumolus--it is a common thing for
an historian to be lost, but not quite so common to acknowledge it. In
attempting to visit this tumolus, I soon found myself in the center of a
morass; and here, my dear reader might have seen the historian set fast
in a double sense. I was obliged, for that evening, February 16, 1783,
to retreat, as the sun had just done before me. I made my approaches
from another quarter, April 13, when the hill appeared the work of
nature, upon too broad a base for a tumolus; covering about three acres,
perfectly round, rising gradually to the center, which is about sixteen
feet above the level, surrounded by a ditch, perhaps made for some
private purpose by the owner.
The Roman tumoli were of two sorts, the small for the reception of a
general, or great man, as that at Cloudsley-bush, near the High Cross,
the tomb of Claudius; and the large, as at Seckington, near Tamworth,
for the reception of the dead, after a battle: they are both of the same
shape, rather high than broad. That before us comes under the
description of neither; nor could the dead well be conveyed over
the morass.
The ground-plot, in the center of the fort, at Loaches Banks, is about
two acres, surrounded by three mounds, which are large, and three
trenches, which are small; the whole forming a square of four acres.
Each corner directs to a cardinal point, but perhaps not with design;
for the situation of the ground would invite the operator to chuse the
present form. The north-west joins to, and is secured by the pool.
As the works are much in the Roman taste, I might, at first view, deem
it the residence of an opulent lord of the manor; but, the adjacent
lands carrying no marks of cultivation, destroys the argument; it is
also too large for the fashion; besides, all these manorial foundations
have been in use since the conquest, therefore tradition assists the
historian; but here, tradition being lost, proves the place of greater
antiquity.
One might judge it of Danish extraction, but here again, tradition will
generally lend her assistance; neither are the trenches large enough for
that people: of themselves they are no security, whether full or empty;
for an active young fellow might easily skip from one bank to another.
Nor can we view it as the work of some whimsical lord, to excite the
wonder of the moderns; it could never pay for the trouble. We must,
therefore, travel back among the ancient Britons, for a solution, and
here we shall travel over solid ground.
It is, probably, the remains of a British camp, for near these premises
are Drude-heath (Druid's-heath) and Drude-fields, which we may
reasonably suppose was the residence of a British priest: the military
would naturally shelter themselves under the wing of the church, and the
priest with the protection of the military. The narrowness of the
trenches is another proof of its being British; they exactly correspond
with the stile of that people. The name of the pool, _Bowen_, is of
British derivation, which is a farther proof that the work originated
from the Britons. They did not place their security so much in the
trenches, as in the mounds, which they barracaded with timber. This camp
is secured on three sides by a morass, and is only approachable on the
fourth, that from the Coldfield. The first mound on this weak side, is
twenty-four yards over, twice the size of any other; which, allowing an
ample security, is a farther evidence of its being British, and
tradition being silent is another.