It’s difficult to know just exactly when Bassa, our village founder, arrived in this part of the world, and for why, and with whom? Presumably with so little immigration control on the east coast in AD 410 the Saxons came here as unheralded opportunists leaving the Romans to hitch up their togas, turn off the aqueducts and head Rome-wards with tickets for the final night at the Colosseum.
Through the mists of time, coursing over the fen, observe our local hero with his four by four chariot recently acquired from a Latium ex-patriot. There he is, complete with family, a cow and suitably supplied with Germanic tools and home-made decorative ware. He lacks nothing but a place to put down his flaxen head. Already his fellow immigrants have planted themselves in places like Grantabrycge (Cambridge): others are newly-arrived from Saxony: Hars founds Hars-ton, Barry, Barrington, and Mel takes on a farm - Meldreth. Consider then Bassa’s delight as he comes over Wylas hill near Cnees’ settlement above the Great Roman Road, Ermine Street.
Just beyond is an interesting prospect for development. Here is something he had been dreaming of – the Promised Land: water meadows encompassed by a couple of winter streams. “Ah, this will do,” he thinks, and puts down his burden. The ground to the North is flat but swampy: there are low hills in the distance. To the South there is a plentiful supply of wood from an extensive forest. He places defensive positions around his territory, all held by family and friends.
The true story of Bassa, if there was one, is certainly lost in the outreach of time and has little to do with what I have written. Your version of Bassa may much better commend itself – it is but a little leap of imagination and you are there. Modest research can soon put flesh on to the oldest of bones and the body of information we seek is probably beneath our feet. There lies the real clue to the history of our village and its people. The recent Archaeological dig was a tremendous spur to those deeply interested in the past, be it recent-past or back beyond pre-history.
When, at some time in the future, you are digging up your garden or just turning over the odd sod think of those other odd sods who may have buried something of their time and who have unwittingly given us an inkling of their lives. Consider too: if you are prepared to bury something of the present, what would you wish to leave for others to look at or read in another 1,000 years, even including, of course, copies of the Royston Crow, the Village Voice and even your tax returns?
(The latter may, of course, be one of 25,000,000 never found. Ed)
Historical novels are many. One in a Sunday newspaper list of top 100 books for the summer holiday included: "Imperium" by Robert Harris (in paperback by Arrow Books). It's a tale told by his secretary Tiro, of Cicero, the Roman lawyer who attempted to climb the greasy political pole of Roman life. Did he succeed? What challenges faced him? Very readable if you have some interest in Rome as she was......sometime before Bassa