In 1954, Michael Keulemans, 11, was playing on a London bombsite when he discovered the Temple of Mithras
When I see all the petty health and safety and regulations governing children’s lives today, I realise how lucky we were as young lads in the 1950s. We had the freedom to roam, pretty well wherever we wanted.
When I went on The Oldie’s ancient Roman tour around the City of London this winter, we visited the third-century AD Temple of Mithras in the basement of Bloomberg’s brand-new office block.
In 1954, as a boy of 11, I would ride up to the City with my schoolmates Bob and David on our bikes. We would explore the ruins of the bombed-out Victorian offices that littered the Square Mile. Bits of brick basement walls were covered in rosebay willowherb, bracken and buddleia – all good for romping around on a Saturday morning.
On one of our sorties, I spotted something quite different on a bombed site in Walbrook. Among all the stubs of red brick, there was a curved piece of ragstone walling interspersed with a row of red bonding tiles halfway up. I knew immediately what it was.
I dashed up to the Guildhall Museum and reported my find to Norman Cook, the curator.
Soon the site was got ready for the redevelopers and Professor W F Grimes, director of the Museum of London, arrived with his team of archaeologists. They discovered that my bit of curved wall was part of the apse of a Roman temple standing by the bank of the River Walbrook. Many spectacular discoveries were made, such as the marble heads of Mithras, the sun god, and Serapis, the corn god, along with a sculpture of a jolly drinks party presided over by Bacchus.
So great was the public interest that queues stretched down the road every day for a chance to see the excavation. I ended up in the Star (pictured) and on the front page of the Evening News!
After that, I was allowed on to pretty well any building site in the City. I clambered down ladders into 30ft-deep trenches, looking for Boadicea’s tell-tale band of ash when she set fire to Londinium in 61 AD. I scoured spoil heaps for Roman pottery, had cups of tea in the workmen’s hut and went to the museum to discuss my finds with the curator.
By the time I was in the second year of secondary school I was almost an expert on Samian ware, could date most Roman coarse pottery and had a museum of my own in our school library. If kids were allowed such latitude and given such encouragement today, I bet they would complain less about boredom – and get up to less vandalism and petty crime.
