Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [158]
The new regime brought several changes to Britannia. On the whole, the legions in the province accepted the new emperor, and the II Augusta were delighted that their former commander had risen unexpectedly to such heights. But the loyalty of the XX Legion was less secure. Vespasian acted quickly. As legate to the XX, he sent the reliable Gnaeus Julius Agricola, who had performed so well on Suetonius’s staff during the Boudiccan revolt. As governor, he replaced Bolanus with Cerialis, who had gallantly if rashly led his troops down from Lindum when Boudicca and her rebels were destroying Camulodunum. These were staunch, loyal soldiers and they were to serve both Vespasian and the province brilliantly.
They were also known personally to Porteus.
Tosutigus was delighted with these changes.
“Cerialis and Agricola – friends with whom you have served. And Vespasian – a man to whom I have spoken myself! This can only be good for us.” And the next day he wrote a fulsome letter to the emperor reminding him of what he called their friendship. Porteus smiled, corrected his grammar, and let him send it. The emperor would be receiving thousands of such letters – it could do no harm.
But for once, to Porteus’s amazement, the chief’s boundless optimism was not ill-founded.
The first good news came when a staff officer from the new governor arrived in Sorviodunum and handed Porteus a letter.
In recognition of your loyal service and the good reports of your work for Procurator Classicianus, you are appointed as the governor’s personal beneficarius to oversee the building of a new baths at the place known as Aquae Sulis.
“It’s an excellent appointment,” the officer assured him, “and it carries a huge salary. I congratulate you.”
It was a normal procedure in the Romanisation of a new province like Britannia to encourage the building of theatres, baths and other visible signs of civilisation as soon as possible; and the commencement of the great Roman baths at Aquae Sulis was to prove such a triumphant example of this process that the place which later became known as the city of Bath retained its Roman atmosphere for the rest of its two thousand year history.
Porteus knew the site well. It stood in a deep valley surrounded by a protective crescent of ridges at the southern tip of the Cotswold hills with their rich deposits of grey and honey-coloured stone, only thirty miles north-west of Sarum. There, powerful warm springs burst out of the rocks bringing up with them rich mineral solutions that were well known to have curative powers. For centuries before the Romans came it had been a place of pilgrimage, sacred to the Celtic goddess Sulis; and though the Romans knew this goddess to be one and the same as their own Minerva, it was typical of their wisdom that they chose to give the place a Celtic name so that the natives would think of the Roman spa as their own.
When the officer briefed him, the instructions were simple. He was to build a large, single bath house – handsome but simple – and situate it in such a way that more elaborate extensions could be added in the future. The budgets were generous.
“It’s to be a showplace – a spa for our soldiers and a place for the natives to discover the delights of civilisation,” the officer told him. “Nothing like a baths for softening these warlike Celts,” he added with a grin.
One summer morning, Porteus set out to inspect the place. With him, after the little fellow had pleaded to be included, was Numex.
“I have learned how to build Roman roads,” the ageless craftsman said, “let me learn more of your Roman arts. I will put them to good use for you at Sarum.”
The preparations which Porteus found awaiting him were impressive. There were contractors drawn from all over the island; architects from Gaul, surveyors, masons, plumbers,