The Antonine Wall has always been, in the words of Alan Montgomery, an ‘overlooked and underappreciated’ monument, long overshadowed by the more substantial wall erected by Hadrian 100 miles to the south. The only ancient written account of the construction of the Antonine Wall is a blurb in the Historia Augusta, and the earthwork composition of the wall, which was subsequently abandoned by the Roman military not long after it was built, has resulted in a dearth of archeological evidence. As a taxi driver, dropping Montgomery off in a remote location near the eastern edge of the wall remarked, ‘The thing is, it's really just a ditch’.
In Walking the Antonine Wall, Montgomery endeavours to challenge these sorts of dismissive attitudes about this ancient structure by recounting his adventure of retracing the path of the Antonine Wall on foot, a journey of 38 miles through archeological sites, agricultural fields, woodlands, golf courses, hilltops, and bustling modern-day towns between Edinburgh and Glasgow. Part travel memoir, part guidebook, part scholarly monograph, and part encomium for the nation of Scotland, Walking the Antonine Wall offers the reader ‘not only a thick slice of Scottish history, but also a snapshot of modern Scotland’.
Montgomery describes a variety of interesting sites along the path: Watling Lodge, the best-preserved section of the original Roman ditch that was built to fortify the wall; Tappoch Broch, a relatively well-preserved Iron Age fortress; Seabegs Wood, which offers evidence of the Military Way, the Roman road that ran parallel to the Antonine Wall on the south side of the rampart; and Croy Hill, where a giant steel sculpture of the head of a Roman centurion has recently been installed.
Two of the highlights of the book – and of Montgomery's journey itself – are the visits to the Rough Castle Roman camp and Bar Hill fort. At Rough Castle, the author notes a humorous Latin sign for modern-day dog walkers in the park (Cura ut canis excrementum in receptacula in area vehiculorum posita deponas), and he then describes, on a much more sombre note, the evidence of pits which would have contained concealed sharpened stakes, built north of the wall as defensive traps for invaders and once gruesomely nicknamed lilia (‘lilies’) by the men of Julius Caesar, who employed these tactics during the siege of Alesia in Gaul. As for Bar Hill, the dramatic vistas provided by the high elevation of the site make it Montgomery's favorite spot along the entire Antonine Wall path: ‘It may not have the best-preserved Roman buildings … but as a whole, Bar Hill has something special about it. If you can only visit one site on the Antonine Wall, this is undoubtedly the one that I would recommend.’
In respect to the visual aids included in Walking the Antonine Wall, the maps are small and somewhat difficult to read, and although the illustrations (created by Rob Hands) are attractive and contribute a certain timeless quality to the book, actual photographs of some of the locations visited by the author would have offered more clarity. I was also disappointed in the lack of practical information – Rick Steves-style recommendations for hotels, restaurants, restroom facilities, etc. – in the text. As Montgomery explains, he had originally intended to complete his walk in three and a half days, but inclement weather conditions and significant Covid disruptions resulted in a piecemeal journey completed over the course of two years. Readers who may be inspired to recreate the author's journey in an epic three- or four-day continuous hike, therefore, will need to consult other resources.
Alan Montgomery's Walking the Antonine Wall is an enjoyable book that should appeal to a variety of readers: aficionados of travel writing, specialised scholars of Roman history, and especially Latin teachers who would like to learn more about Caledonia in order to share information about this frequently overlooked corner of the Roman Empire with students. The Antonine Wall may never be as famous as Hadrian's Wall, but it is certainly more than ‘just a ditch’, and as Montgomery eloquently and cogently argues in the book, it is a monument worthy of our attention and appreciation.
Open access
