Monday, May. 29, 1989
To Build or Not to Build
By Anastasia Toufexis
Thus far into the bowels of the land we march'd on without impediment.
In Richard III, Shakespeare wrote of armies tramping across medieval England, but the words could equally apply to the hordes of developers who in recent times have swept over London. Their relentless building has gone largely unopposed, even when it has demolished rich portions of the city's heritage. But for the past few weeks all of London has been in an uproar over the scheduled destruction of two of the city's recently discovered archaeological treasures: the ruins of a Roman bath complex that dates back 2,000 years and the underground remains of the Rose, the Elizabethan theater where Shakespeare may have premiered Titus Andronicus and Henry VI and even trod the stage.
Protesters have besieged the British government with pleas to save the sites. They have written letters, staged marches and held all-night vigils. Among the petitioners: Laurence Olivier, Dame Peggy Ashcroft, Dustin Hoffman and Princes Charles and Edward. Declared Tony Banks, a Labor Member of Parliament: "The destruction of these sites would represent the archaeological equivalent of destroying the rain forests. Once they are gone, they can never be reinstated." Last week both landmarks received last-minute reprieves. Developers of the Roman site announced that they will revise their plans and save the remains. And the government declared a one-month stay of execution for the Rose to allow developers and officials time to explore ways to preserve the theater.
To preservationists, the furor points up the need to strengthen the laws protecting archaeological finds. Since 1973, London's monuments have been safeguarded largely through officially sanctioned voluntary pacts between developers and archaeologists. The agreements basically give scientific teams time to investigate all sites exposed by the digging of construction crews. The costs are borne by the developers, who have been quick to see the public relations advantage. Last year they provided $9 million for explorations at 162 sites in the London area. But the effort amounts mostly to a delay in construction. After archaeologists record their findings and salvage some artifacts, most sites are leveled. More than 80% of the city's archaeological heritage, including medieval marketplaces and remains of the Roman city known as Londinium, have already been lost to modern office buildings and underground garages.
Londoners have feared that the same fate would befall the two newest finds. The remains of the Rose were unexpectedly discovered last February after an office building was demolished on the south bank of the Thames in preparation for the erection of a new nine-story complex. The archaeological team sent to the site knew the area had been the Elizabethan theater district, but no one expected to find vestiges of the Rose, which was built in 1587. The team stumbled onto chalk foundations, sloped mortar flooring and, most astonishingly, the base of the stage 6 ft. below the ground. From the debris, scientists have determined that the Rose was a small polygon-shaped theater, just 43 ft. in diameter, with plaster walls and a thatched roof. Viewers sat in tiered galleries or stood in a pit in front of the stage. Among the rubble was a layer of hazelnut shells, possibly the medieval audience's version of popcorn.
The discovery of well-preserved Roman ruins just across the Thames at Huggin Hill was equally serendipitous. Excavations in 1964 had revealed extensive baths on the enormous site, which measures 20,000 sq. ft. Experts are unsure whether the remains are part of the palace of Julius Agricola, the Governor of Britain in the latter half of the first century, or public baths built for the citizenry.
The Huggin Hill Baths were designated a protected archaeological site by the government years ago. But in 1988 the Department of the Environment granted a development company permission to build a seven-story office complex on the west end of the ruins. The government believed the site had already been irretrievably damaged by construction in the 1960s. But last January the archaeological team discovered a large room with central heating, vaulted semicircular recesses and a mosaic floor.
Few doubt the archaeological value of either the Rose or the Roman baths. But the stumbling block in preservation efforts is money. In granting a temporary reprieve to the Rose, the government had to pledge as much as $1.65 million to the building's developers to cover the costs of delays in construction. And officials admit that revoking permission to build at Huggin Hill could run the government's liability as high as $40 million.
The cheapest answer to protecting the sites is to rebury the remains and proceed with construction; future generations could re-excavate the ruins when the new buildings are knocked down. That is exactly what developers have decided to do at Huggin Hill. Stacks of tiles from the 2,000-year-old central- heating system will be covered with foam and wood before the whole site is filled in with sand; a planned two-story basement will be built at another location so that only a small section of a Roman retaining wall will need to be destroyed. Developers of the Rose site have also proposed re-covering the remains. But critics say the theater fragments are too fragile for such treatment. Moreover, construction plans still call for 20 concrete piles, some of which would be driven through what is left of the theater.
Worst of all, both historical sites would stay out of public view. One solution still being considered for the Rose is to incorporate the remains into the new building. London has used that remedy successfully several times. For example, a 12-ft.-high portion of the Roman wall that once encircled Londinium forms part of the basement wall of a new office building; pedestrians peek in through sidewalk windows. Allowing the Rose, the only Elizabethan theater ever discovered, to disappear once again sounds like the stuff of a Shakespearean tragedy. "Replicas of Elizabethan theaters are being built everywhere," observes actor Ian McKellen, "but this is the real thing, and you don't throw away the real thing."
With reporting by Nancy Seufert/London