The criticism, of course, arises here, How could the Britons at such necessarily short notice have executed so extensive a work to impede the passage of the Romans, who came swiftly up from Kent and who could not have been confidently expected at any one point? The stakes extend for about two miles and appear to have been thoroughly and methodically arranged. The wattling, too, is evidence of care and deliberation. Doubts must arise. They may have been already long in existence before Cæsar came, and have been intended for defence against rival tribes; or again, they may not really be so ancient as supposed; and their object merely for the protection of the banks from being eroded by the current.
The name, Brentford, refers of course to a ford across the Brent near its confluence with the Thames, which is broad and deep here; but there was also, doubtless, a ford across the Thames, at this place, for the present depth of the river has been produced in modern times by the industrious dredging works of the Thames Conservancy. But still at low tide between Brentford ferry and Kew bridge the river has normally only three feet depth of water, and in summer sometimes much less. Children can at such times often be seen wading far out into the bed of the stream. There must evidently have been a ford across the Thames here in ancient days, as well as across the Brent, and we know from later historic events that undoubtedly took place here that this junction of rivers was always an important point.
Thus much may be said in support of the modern contention that it was here Cæsar crossed on his way to Verulam, and it may be conceded to those who hold this view that the delta formed by the two outlets of the Brent is curiously named “Old England.” It will be found so called on large Ordnance maps, and by that name it has been known from time immemorial. Much significance may be found in that title in such a place as this. Nothing is known as to the origin of it. It has just come down to us from the old, dim ages of oral tradition, and is now fixed by printed maps. The significance of the name is, however, strangely supported by that of a spot far indeed removed from it, but (if we accept the theory that Brentford is really the scene of Cæsar’s crossing) most intimately correlated in history. This second name has also been handed down in like manner out of the misty past. We need not wonder at it. Tradition was everywhere strong in times before the people could read, but their memory has become gradually atrophied since they have become literate, and the wisdom and the legends of our forefathers are fading away. Fortunately, the art of printing, which, in conjunction with the widespread ability to read, has destroyed much oral tradition, has at the same time fixed and perpetuated many floating legends and memories.