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The last few years have thrown new light on the great rebellion that so nearly cost Rome the province of Britain less than twenty years after the Claudian conquest. Most of it has been due to archaeology, but not all. Closer scrutiny of the narrative of Tacitus and Dio Cassius has shown that we must revise both the date of the rebellion and the name of its leader. 

Boudicca has been accepted, by scholars at least; the traditional Boadicea belongs to nothing more venerable than an error in the first printed edition of Tacitus. The traditional date, A.D. 61, derives from Tacitus himself; but Professor Syme has recently shown that there is confusion in the annalistic account, and that the real date is 60.

The roots of the rebellion go back to the settlement of affairs in Britain after the Claudian invasion. This had been directed at the regnum Britanniae, the powerful Belgic state built up in the south-east under Cunobelinus. Roman intervention in Britain was welcome to neighbouring tribes who had for two generations feared Belgic power. Among these were the Iceni of Norfolk and north-west Suffolk; and their ruler went to Camulodunum to submit to Claudius and receive the status of a client-king. 

This king may have been Boudicca’s husband Prasutagas or an earlier ruler. The latter is rather more likely; for there are no coins of Prasutagas, which suggests that he did not rule before 43. Whoever it was, he had accepted a status that was always precarious and liable to be revoked by Rome. But its disadvantages lay in the future. In the years immediately after 43, the Iceni must have seen cause to congratulate themselves, as their neighbours were brought firmly under Roman organization and the province extended to the Severn and the Trent.

Archaeology has given our knowledge of the Iceni a somewhat sharper focus. On the southwest, the limit of their territory would seem to be the tongue of firm land, between the forest and the fen, in which Cambridge lies. The hill-fort of Vandlebury on the Gogs presumably belonged to them; but excavation has shown that the Devil’s Dyke, which would fit so well into this historical context, belongs to a later date. We do not know the seat of their royal house. 

Venta Icenorum (Caistor-by-Norwich), seems to be of Flavian foundation. Remains of the immediate pre-Roman period hint at two main areas of settlement. One is in north-west Norfolk round Hunstanton, where the magnificent objects found at Snettisham in 1950 imply the existence of a rich community. The other is in the Thetford and Lakenheath area, the most likely point of contact with Belgic and later with Roman culture; for they were cut off by the Fens on the west, and the state of affairs on their south-eastern border around the river Deben is uncertain.

Soon after 47, this picture began to change for the worse. The growing power of Caratacus in Wales made the Fosse frontier inadequate. Before getting to closer grips with him, Ostorius Scapula, the second Roman governor of Britain, felt it necessary to secure his rear by building a chain of forts in the gap between the Severn and Trent, and by disarming the eastern tribes, including the Iceni. The chief elements of the situation were to be repeated, on a larger scale, thirteen years later. Military operations in Wales, disaffection among the Iceni and their neighbours, led to an armed rising. 

It was suppressed by a single sharp engagement, fought with Roman auxiliary troops, at a place where, to judge from Tacitus (Annals XII. 31), British earthworks played a part in the battle. We can no longer follow Ridgeway and Cony-beare in trying to identify it with one of the existing Cambridgeshire dykes. Indeed, from what Tacitus says, it does not look as though the battle was fought on Icenian soil. What is strange is to find the client-kingship continued after such disloyalty. It has been conjectured that, at this point, Prasutagas was put in as a Roman nominee. 

This may be so; or the rebellion may have been due to an anti-Roman faction among the Iceni that got out of his control. Factions were endemic in the tribal politics of Britain and Gaul; and only a strong ruler could keep them in hand. The history of the Brigantes during Cartimandua’s reign is a good example of how pro- and anti-Roman parties developed among the peoples on the fringe of the Roman province. At any rate, the Iceni retained a shadow of independence from 47 to 60, a period, for them, of considerable prosperity.

Their neighbours, the Trinovantes of Suffolk and Essex, were less fortunate. The new colonia, founded in 49 at Camulodunum, superseding the old capital of Cunobelinus, was planned on a lavish scale, an example to Britain of that urban life which Rome introduced to all the western provinces. Here, as a focus for Roman-ization and provincial loyalties, rose the great Temple and Altar of Claudius, whose design Professor Richmond has compared to the Temple and Altar of Caesar in the Forum Romanum. To serve as a priest in this cult was, for the Romanized British aristocrat, a high—and expensive—honour. The colonia also had a senate-house, a theatre, and no doubt the other amenities of a Roman city. 

But it had no defences, as later events were to show. For the veterans, who formed the main element in its population, represented a less amiable side of Roman imperialism. Their grants of land, taken from the confiscated estates of the royal house, do not seem to have been allotted on any regular system of centuriation, but by a kind of private enterprise.

“They kept driving the Britons off their land,” says Tacitus, “calling them prisoners and slaves”—which indeed, according to Roman law, they were. It was settler politics at its worst; and, in a few years, it had roused the Trinovantes to such a pitch of fury that they were avid for the first opportunity of revenge.

In the province as a whole, Roman rule had taken on a harsher aspect. The trying campaigns in Wales had led to the capture of Cara-tacus; but the Silures were still unsubdued; exaggerated hopes of mineral wealth in Britain had been revealed as baseless; and the province appeared likely to give more trouble than it was worth. In the first years of Nero’s reign, the possibility of abandoning it seems to have been seriously considered.

The decision went the other way—for a vigorous forward policy that would complete the conquest of Wales. Q. Veranius was appointed to carry it through, but died before he could put his plans into action. He was succeeded by Suetonius Paulinus, an expert in mountain warfare, who had shown his quality in a remarkable campaign against the people of the Atlas Mountains in Mauretania. Military pressure was now applied, accompanied by a harsher financial administration. Britain was costing more to defend; and the authorities felt that it would not be unreasonable to ask the provincials to take their share.

It is probable, although we lack direct evidence, that the provincial system of taxation was overhauled, and that Catus Decianus, who plays the villain’s part in the tragedy of the Boudicca rebellion, may well have been specially sent out as procurator to administer it. Under the Augustan system, the procurator, or chief finance officer, was virtually independent of the governor; and, while Suetonius made ready for the invasion of Wales, Catus Decianus looked after his own business, legitimate and illegitimate.

Tacitus lists a series of abuses that show the worst side of the Roman administration, and pushed the British taxpayers—a patient body of men, as he notes—over the edge of despair. For the tax-collector’s hand was not the only one reaching for their windpipe. Private moneylenders had been active in the province ever since the Claudian conquest, and had financed the native aristocracy in the hire-purchase of Roman amenities.

Dio says that the philosopher-millionaire and imperial minister, Seneca, was among them; but Syme has demonstrated that there are grounds for doubting this. Whoever they were, the moneylenders saw the red light and called in their loans. Faced simultaneously with tax demands, tax swindles, and the repayment of private loans, many of the tribal chieftains were ripe for rebellion. Events in East Anglia and in North Wales gave them their chance.

Prasutagas, “famed for his long prosperity,” died in 59, leaving a widow and two young daughters. By leaving half his estates to Nero, Reconstruction of a Celtic war-chariot, now in the National Museum of Wales. It bears little resemblance to the massive vehicle represented in the famous sculptural group of “Boadicea and her Daughters” at the northern entrance of Westminster Bridge, opposite the Houses of Parliament he had hoped to avoid further confiscations and to secure that his kingdom would remain outside the province.

But he had chosen a bad moment to die. The wealth of the kingdom could be used to buttress the provincial revenues, and to line the pockets of Catus Decianus and his staff. So it was decided to incorporate it in the Roman province; and, early in the year 60, Decianus, with a band of tax-collectors and a military escort, set out to complete the formalities. What followed—the lashing of Boudicca and the rape of the young princesses—has stirred patriotic rage in many a schoolboy’s heart.

But, granted that Decianus was a crook, and that the centurions were ruffians if they got out of hand, there must have been resistance to provoke them to such behaviour. And such resistance must have derived from Boudicca herself. Her formidable personality stands out clearly in the description of Dio—that of a Celtic heroine, a Maev of Connaught or a Graine o’Maile, a thousand years later. We know oddly little about her—not even her standing among the Iceni. It has been suggested that she was the Queen-regnant, and that Prasutagas became her consort as a Roman nominee; but she may not have been of Icenian origin.

Tacitus’ phrase, “a woman of the royal house,” seems carefully chosen to suggest that, in the Roman view, she had no claim to the succession after her husband’s death. However that may be, the injuries she had suffered at Roman hands left her burning for revenge; and her countrymen and their neighbours saw in her the leader for a concerted attempt to rid themselves for ever of Roman rule. The occasion was the campaign of Suetonius in North Wales.

Suetonius’ appreciation of the situation in Wales was not that of his predecessor. Veranius’ strategy was to defeat the Silures first: Suetonius felt that the real trouble lay in the northwest, the land of the Ordovices and the populous island of Mona, headquarters of the Druidic cult. Eighteenth-century antiquarian-ism, and much later bogus mysticism, have given the name of Druidism an aura of absurdity. But to the Roman administration in Gaul and Britain that powerful priesthood, the driving force of pan-Celtic nationalism, was a grim reality for a hundred years.

The Druids had been behind both the rising of Vercingetorix against Caesar and the rebellion of Florus and Sacrovir in A.D. 21. Augustus had forbidden the cult to Roman citizens; Tiberius had driven Druid priests out of Gaul; Claudius attempted to stamp out the cult in that province. In Britain, its role was the same, its influence even stronger. The power of the Anglesey Druids is dramatically attested by the famous hoard from Llyn Cerrig Bach, now in the National Museum of Wales.

Their influence reached every British state within and without the Roman province, linking together anti-Roman parties, fanning discontent and sedition. The Silures could wait their turn; this was the power Suetonius meant to crush in its stronghold beyond the mountains of Eryri.

As an invader of North Wales, Suetonius ranks with Edward I; his attack on Anglesey was completely successful. But the governor of Britain needed to be more than a good general. He had failed disastrously to keep his finger on the pulse of the province; so that, when the great rebellion broke out, all his forces were pointed the wrong way. For the Britons had used his absence, first for secret conferences, then for plans for a general rising, finally for a great hosting, which must have been held on Icenian territory. Here Boudicca was elected war-leader of the confederate forces.

Vercingetorix had held such a post in Gaul, Arminius in Germany, Cassivellaunus and Caratacus in Britain. How many British states were involved we do not know. Tacitus says that “they all took up arms,” but the peoples of Kent and Sussex at least do not seem to have been involved. To the Iceni and Trinovantes, however, we may add the Coritani of the east midlands and perhaps the Cornovii on their west, with partisans from the Catuvellauni and even from the Brigantes.

And, in every British tribe, there would be those who would watch and wait, ready to join the rebellion if it made headway. The British strategy was to strike first at the three Romanized cities in the south-east. At Colchester, the hated veterans and the Temple of Claudius could be destroyed. London was the great trading-centre, already the largest city of the province.

At Verulamium (St. Albans), the inhabitants of a Roman municipium could be shown what happened to British devotees of Romanization. Then Roman forts would be overrun, and granaries captured; finally, the field army, deprived of supplies, would be brought to bay and overwhelmed.

The Roman forces were off balance to meet such a threat. The nearest large concentration was at Lincoln, where the Ninth Legion under Petilius Cerealis kept watch on the Brigantes. The Second Legion, under the command of its Camp Prefect Poenius Postumus, was at Gloucester to guard the lower Severn against the Silures. There would be holding detachments at points along the Fosse Way, such as Margidunum. With Suetonius in North Wales were the Fourteenth Legion, detachments from the Twentieth and perhaps other legions, and a large force of auxiliaries, including cavalry units.

In the area directly threatened there were only the veterans at Colchester, a handful of troops in London, and the garrison forts fringing Icenian territory, about which little is known, but with which Ixworth, Great Chesterton, and Water Newton may be connected.

The first phases of the British plan went through brilliantly. At Colchester, the fifth column inside the city softened up resistance, now staging horrifying portents of disaster, now offering reassurance when plans for evacuation were discussed. The attack caught the city unprepared, and it was swamped. The only strong point was the Temple of Claudius, which stood a two-day siege.

Those who died were the lucky ones. Archaeology has found several traces of the Colchester disaster. On the Sheepen site there is “evidence of the manufacture of new and the repair of old weapons, extemporized in great haste ...” a mark of desperate re-arming by the defenders. The bronze head of Claudius, found in the River Aide in 1908, is part of the loot of some public building, though it can hardly be (as was once thought) the head of the cult statue in the Temple.

Finally, the podium of the Temple is still to be seen in the vaults of Colchester Castle, a reminder of the savage scenes it witnessed. A second British success was the smashing of the relief force organized from Lincoln under Petilius Cerealis. Somewhere on the Fen margins, perhaps near Durobrivae (Water Newton), it was met by a British force, its infantry annihilated, and the cavalry compelled to return to their base. Attempts to link destruction at Margidunum with these operations are not very convincing.

Suetonius probably knew of the gathering of the British tribes, and must have relied on the Lincoln force to keep matters under control. Now, if anything was to be salvaged, he must move himself. Leaving the infantry to follow, he pushed ahead with the cavalry, no doubt ordering Poenius Postumus to join him with the troops from Gloucester at a rendezvous on Watling Street, probably Wall or High Cross. This would provide him with a balanced force with which to defend London and St. Albans, until the troops from North Wales could be brought up.

But the situation was worse than he thought. Either because of pressure from the Silures, or because his nerve failed him, Poenius Postumus refused to move out of Gloucester. The defection of Poenius and the Second Legion meant that there was now no real hope for London. Yet it was unthinkable to let it go without further effort.

So Suetonius pressed on “with wonderful perseverance through the midst of the enemy to London.” Agricola was on Suetonius’ staff as a young official; and it was perhaps from him that Tacitus heard the details of that arduous march. It was a hopeless position that he found awaiting him.

No reinforcements had reached the city, either from the Continent, or the friendly Regni, or any other source. No defences had been improvised. A few had managed to slip away to the Continent, among them Catus Decianus, who had made a personal appraisal.

Suetonius now faced an agonizing decision. His cavalry force could not defend an open city in the face of the main body of the enemy. It was too late to organize general evacuation. All he could do was to fall back on the advancing infantry, allowing a few refugees who could keep up with him to join his column. First London and then St. Albans were left to their fate, and their fate was terrible. London went up in flames, and the fire has left its traces over the whole area between Gracechurch Street and the Walbrook.

“The most striking feature is the burnt layer which occurs from ten to thirteen feet below modern ground level... Clearly an extensive fire early in the Roman occupation swept over this area and reduced the clay and timber houses to a red dust.” (Royal Commission on Historical Monuments—Roman London.)

As for the inhabitants, their lot, in Tacitus’ grim words, was “slaughter, the gibbet, fire, and the cross.” Dio describes worse atrocities—of a Mau Mau-like bestiality—inflicted on women in the “grove of Andraste.” Such crimes may have had a ritualistic purpose, a counter to the destruction of the sacred grove of Mona—though perhaps, in the twentieth century, there is no need to rationalize a lapse into primitive savagery.

All these events were crowded into no more than two midsummer weeks. A pause followed. Suetonius had time to fall back along Watling Street, concentrate his forces, and prepare for the final battle. Boudicca had to round up an army drunk on victory and plunder, and lead it north. Somewhere along Watling Street, between St. Albans and High Cross, the decisive battle was fought.

It was on ground of Suetonius’ choosing—we do not know exactly where; but there are likely sites north of Tow-cester, and also just south of Rugby. Tacitus makes a fine set-piece of the battle; and it should be read in his narrative. It was a classic example of engagements in which a small disciplined force—Suetonius had about 10,000 men—utterly defeats a much larger, but ill-equipped and over-confident, enemy.

There was a huge slaughter of Britons; and Boudicca, though she escaped from the battle, died, or took poison, shortly afterwards. Suetonius’ fortitude had saved the province for Rome. But, to a Roman of his stamp, victory was not enough. Ostorius Scapula, defeated in battle by the Silures, had sworn to exterminate the whole tribe. For the rebellious provincials, Suetonius would have no mercy. Knowing this, many of the Britons remained in arms, though Boudicca was dead and they had no hope of success.

Poenius Postumus, too, knew his temper and fell on his sword: there was no future for him. Reinforcements were sent from Germany—2,000 legion-aires to bring the Ninth up to strength, and eight cavalry squadrons. It looked as though a new and terrible phase was about to open, when the intervention of the central government caused a turn in events. Julius Classicianus was sent out as procurator to succeed Catus Decianus.

He was a man of strong mind and independent judgment, who found little to admire in the policy of Suetonius. He pressed for a commission of enquiry; and Nero sent Polyclitus, one of his most trusted freedmen, to investigate on the spot. Tacitus disparages Classicianus and Polyclitus alike: as a senator, he disliked procurators and loathed freedmen.    

But the commission found against Suetonius, who was recalled to Rome as soon as a pretext offered, and, it seems, awarded no honours for his service in Britain. His successor, Petronius Turpilianus, had orders to pursue a milder policy; and he settled the aftermath of the rebellion. Tacitus dismisses this work of pacification in two words “compositis prioribus”¹.

Not that the Iceni escaped punishment: that could hardly be. Their territory was ravaged;and some of its population may have been drafted to work on the construction of the Car Dyke, the great waterway by which the Romans drained the Fens, if indeed it belongs to this period. But certainly their territory never recovered any high level of prosperity; its capital Venta is a poor place compared with those of neighbouring states.

Yet, in the province as a whole, a new and more liberal policy was followed, as though, on the Roman side, the lessons of the great rebellion had been taken to heart. When, after the distractions of the year 69, it was again possible to adopt aforward policy in Britain, it was under men who realized,in Tacitus’ phrase, that “little is gained by arms, if injustice follows.” The chapters in which Tacitus describes the humane and enlightened policy of Agricola are well known.   

There is no reason to think it was confined to his governorship. We hear of no more rebellions among the civilized tribes of Britain. When, at the end of the third century, there is a short-lived “British Empire” under Carausius, its end was hailed with relief. In the falling night of the fifth century, the “Groans of the Britons” were directed at Rome for abandoning them. 

If, then, one may fairly say that the rebellion of Boudicca was followed by a new and happier chapter for Roman Britain, much of the credit must go to Classicianus. It is thus a particularly happy  chance that we have his tombstone in the British Museum. Found on TowerHill in two pieces (in 1852 and 1935) it reads:— 

She is no less interesting than her husband, as Professor Birley has pointed out. Indus was a pro-Roman aristocrat of the Treveri in Gaul; when they were concerned in a rebellion in A.D. 21, he secured a just peace. Julia Pacata was probably born that year; and her name means “the child of peace.”

Forty years later, did this lady, who could see both the Roman and the Celtic side, influence her husband to do what her father had done? If so, she is the real heroine of the rebellion of Boudicca.   

¹ “When the earlier troubles had been settled.”  

Source URL: https://www.historytoday.com/archive/rebellion-boudicca

A pagan queen, an unruly woman and a valiant warrior: Boudica has lived a varied afterlife in British history. Why is the ancient queen of the Iceni such an enduring figure?

Martha Vandrei | Published 18 September 2018

As (most) British schoolchildren know, Queen Boudica was the warrior queen of the Iceni whose rebellion against the Romans was roundly – if belatedly – quashed. Boudica – this is now accepted as the most accurate spelling of her name, though the popularity of the Latinised Boadicea, among other permutations, persists – raised a rebellion, which united the Iceni with a handful of tribes usually inclined to be at war with each other, seeking revenge after a series of brutal acts by the Romans. The final straw had been the public humiliation and scourging of the proud queen, recently widowed and thus deprived of her protector-husband, King Prasutagus. Boudica’s daughters, whose ages are unrecorded, were raped by Roman soldiers. According to some sources, other members of her family were enslaved. This was the immediate cause of Boudica’s rebellion in AD 61.

After a series of surprise victories for the Britons, the conflict came to a head, probably somewhere between Verulamium (St Albans) and Londinium (London), at the Battle of Watling Street. The crack Roman general Suetonius Paulinus had decided to take a break from burning druids in Wales to come and put an end to the insurrection in the south. According to the Roman historian Tacitus, in the hours before the decisive battle Boudica rode a war-chariot up and down the ranks, willing her band of warriors to victory. Yet for all her vitriolic anger and indignation, she and her followers were eventually – inevitably – routed by the most powerful empire Europe had known. Boudica poisoned herself so as to avoid slavery or worse.

All of this was first related by Tacitus in the Annals. Tacitus’ father-in-law had been the Roman's governor of Britain and had witnessed the blend of savagery and heroism that seemed to characterise the people there. But like much classical learning, the story of Boudica and the (attempted) colonisation of Britain was largely lost until the Renaissance, when Tacitus’ histories were rediscovered and republished in new editions across Europe.

The rediscovery of Tacitus, whose works began to trickle into Britain during the reign of the Tudor monarchs, caused a stir in the still-fractious nations of Britain: heroic myths, including the fantastic tales of wizards and courtly knights popularised by Geoffrey of Monmouth, were swept aside. In their place stood a woman, described in William Cowper’s 1782 poem ‘Boadicea an Ode’, as ‘bleeding from the Roman rods’, with vengeance in her eyes and a spear in her hand.

As one of the earliest named Britons in documented history, Boudica had to be dealt with by any writer keen to explore Britain’s past. For one Tudor woman in particular, she presented an opportunity: it is tempting to suggest that Elizabeth I’s speech to her troops at Tilbury before the invasion by the Spanish Armada might have taken something from Boudica’s oratorical display. Certainly the poet Jonathan Aske saw a resemblance. In his triumphant ode on the defeat of the Spanish in 1588, he proclaimed Elizabeth as ‘Voada, England’s happie queene’. But what happened after the death of Elizabeth?

Some modern historians have argued that Boudica’s reputation suffered a decline during and after the reign of James I and VI. Following her Elizabethan heyday, the return of a man to the throne spelled the end for the celebration of unorthodox women. It is not surprising that Boudica was viewed with suspicion and misogynistic ire on the part of some writers and audiences.

This was true, for example, of the poet John Milton. Milton had little time for the pagan queen in his prose History of Britain, published in the 1670s. Milton dismissed her as a shameless harridan who ought to have kept her sorry tale of assault, rape and humiliation to herself. Sadly, Milton, for all his poetic genius, was an unreconstructed misogynist; his dislike of Boudica stemmed from a distaste for the notion of women in power. As a female chieftain, and a pagan to boot, Boudica represented all that was most horrifying for Milton.

But Milton’s view was not typical of his time, or even of the years before. His critical take on Boudica can be contrasted with that of the antiquary and historian Edmund Bolton, a penniless hanger-on to the court of James I and VI. Bolton made his way, with only partial success, by writing for the court and, in 1624, he wrote the first detailed account of Boudica’s rebellion since Tacitus. Bolton intended to write a history of the reign of Emperor Nero, but was so taken by Boudica that he devoted at least half his text to her and her rebellion.

For this denizen of James’ court at least, Boudica was nothing less than a great heroine, even if she had been a poor general. Bolton’s text is full of entertaining antiquarian speculation. It was he who first put forward the notion that Stonehenge was erected by the ancient Britons in memory of the warrior queen.

In the 17th century, antiquarians seemed most keen on Boudica. Aylett Sammes, another antiquarian and historian, composed a somewhat tongue-in-cheek tribute to Boudica and her daughters in his illustrated history of Britain, Britannia Antiqua Illustrata, of 1676:

Sammes’ light-hearted verse had a serious point. Boudica and her daughters had been violated by the Romans and fought back as best they could, even if they were doomed to fail. How could three women stand against such a powerful foe?

Throughout the 2,000 years since her death, Boudica’s posthumous reputation is never easily characterised. A study of her reputation in British culture reveals no single ‘typical’ view of her, but rather a varied sense of her importance to different individuals and groups. Insofar as we can draw any conclusions about how she has been viewed, it seems clear that people have embraced her as a heroic figure. But we need to be cautious when approaching questions of ‘the past in the past’.

It can be tempting to take a single representation of Boudica – a statue, for instance – and see it as typical or representative of a time and place. But it is often more interesting to dig deeper and find out the individual perspective that lies behind a representation.

Take, for example, what is probably the most famous depiction of Boudica: Thomas Thornycroft’s statue on Westminster Bridge. Scholars have viewed this work as representative of a time – the late 19th century – and an attitude  – embattled Victorians seeking to assuage fears of imperial decline. However, the story is both more interesting and more banal than that.

Thornycroft first began his statue in the 1850s, when he was struggling to secure commissions. He found himself with an abundance of two things artists thrive on: time and an emotional predicament that lent itself to self-expression. Boudica, a symbol of resistance and of British pluck – Thornycroft’s works were being panned by hostile critics and he was losing commissions to superior continental competitors – was in many ways a natural choice.

He worked on the statue for 20 years and when he died in 1871 it was still only a plaster model. On the back of a renewed interest in finding Boudica’s final resting place, Thomas’ son, John Isaac, with the help of William Bull MP, succeeded in raising funds for a bronze version that made its slow and circuitous way to its current home in Westminster (other sites were discussed).

Boudica was embraced by Victorian Londoners, despite the fact that one of her most well-known acts was to burn the place to cinders. Similarly, the towns of Colchester and St Albans have embraced her as a local heroine, a status testified to by everything from stained glass windows to car park graffiti, at least in the case of Colchester. St Albans has taken a more staid approach and is content with telling her story in the local museum, while occasionally using her image to represent the town.

Audiences from the reign of Elizabeth I onwards have tended to respond positively to Boudica, even to the point of disowning negative portrayals. A case in point is the critical reaction to a play about Boudica produced in 1753. Richard Glover’s Boadicia; a tragedy played at the Theatre Royal Drury Lane, with David Garrick playing the male lead, the general and brother-in-law to ‘Boadicia’, Dumnorix. ‘Boadicia’ was played by a Mrs Bracegirdle.

In the play, ‘Boadicia’ is an emotionally unstable leader, whose position of public responsibility is compromised by her personal vendetta against the Romans. Glover, a politician first and a playwright second, was most concerned with getting across his political message: private prejudice had no part to play in public life. This was hardly a controversial position, but the ownership of this kind of patriotic rhetoric was contested and Glover’s play was intended as a volley on the part of the Whigs. But Glover let slip the subtleties of dramatic composition that critics and audiences most valued. His play was a flop.

Glover’s ‘Boadicia’ behaves badly throughout. Irrational mood swings and errors of judgment abound. This cruel, stubborn, unlikeable ‘Boadicia’ is contrasted with her sickeningly pliant sister, Venutia, who commits suicide at the behest of her husband, Dumnorix. One might imagine this not playing well with a modern audience, but it fared no better in the 1750s. One acerbic reviewer dismissed Glover’s Dumnorix as a ‘blusterer’ and a ‘coward’, while ‘Boadicia’s’ behaviour was so inconsistent and inexplicable that, by the play’s end, ‘no one is under the least pain about what becomes of her, and begins to think the whipping she received was no more than what she deserved’.

This was not a comment on the historical Boudica. Rather, the critic was taking aim at Glover, whose inability to write believable characters meant that audiences lost any natural sympathy with the wronged queen: ‘To make Boadicea more savage and unforgiving, he has terminated in making her an idiot.’ Another observer, the pornographer John Cleland, declared Glover’s play ‘only fit to make an ice-house of a summer theatre’. It was rarely restaged and only after major revisions were made to it was it briefly revived in the first decade of the 19th century.

By the end of the 18th century, the misogynistic views of Milton and the naked instrumentality of playwrights such as Glover, would give way to a multifaceted and complex heroic identity for Boudica. She was celebrated by female authors as a suitable heroine for children and young women, albeit with the caveat that suicide was no fitting death for a Christian lady. In Heroines of History (1854), Mrs O.F. Owens wrote of Boudica’s demise:

Boudica could neatly illustrate the dangers of paganism while displaying native pluck and patriotic fervor.

Yet there was one aspect of Boudica’s identity that remained ambiguous well into the 20th century: what did it mean for an ancient heroine to be ‘British’? There was a vocal minority in Wales who claimed Boudica as a uniquely Welsh heroine due to the fact that there were no English people in ancient Britain, only Celts. The Celtic Welsh could therefore claim ownership of the Celtic Boudica, or Buddug, as she was known within the growing Celtic nationalist movement. But they faced an uphill struggle in convincing ordinary Welsh men and women of this version of history. When the new Cardiff City Hall was being decorated with statues of Welsh heroes in the early 20th century, the public took a vote on whose likenesses should feature in the ‘Welsh Valhalla’. Queen Buddug garnered few votes. Instead, the Welsh public, when asked to vote for their nation’s exemplary female hero, voted for the hymn writer Ann Griffiths. This choice was simply ignored. To this day it is Buddug and her two daughters who remain the only female figures on display in the Marble Hall. 

Boudica has had a storied posthumous life. As her various appropriations show, as with any aspect of culture, history can be both political and personal.

Martha Vandrei is the author of Queen Boudica and Historical Culture in Britain: An Image of Truth (Oxford, 2018).

Source URL: https://www.historytoday.com/miscellanies/queen-boudica-life-legend

One has to go back to Julius Caesar to understand Rome's interest in Britain and the attitudes of the tribes of south-eastern Britain to Rome. Whatever may have prompted Caesar to carry out his expeditions, their partial success was accepted in Rome as a definite conquest. The effect in Britain was a polarising into allies and enemies of the tribes with which Rome had been in contact. Caesar lists among his allies the Trinovantes of the Colne peninsula and the Iceni of Norfolk, while the anti-Roman forces were the tribes of Kent and a tribe on the north bank of the Thames, the name of which is lost but whose chief, Cassivellaunus, was given command of the British forces against Rome.

This division of the tribes cut across their earlier affiliations and origins since most of those on both sides of the Thames Estuary had been Gallo-Belgic migrants crossing the Channel and settling in these areas, mainly as a consequence of Caesar's advance into Gaul in 39 BC and possibly earlier. Thus, the Trinovantes, with their tribal centre at Camulodunon and their neighbours to the west nucleated in Verulamion and Braughing, appear to be recent arrivals to Britain, and more or less contemporary movements had brought others into north and eastern Kent from the Seine Valley. The tribes that had emerged from much earlier migrations were the Iceni and that of Cassivellaunus, who was clearly hostile to the newcomers, seeing them as a threat round the northern borders of his kingdom.

There were, of course, many tribes in the Midlands and south-west that had no direct contact with Caesar and this also applies to the Atrebates and the Regini on the south coast of modern Sussex and Hampshire. Yet there was early trade with the Continent, as the evidence from Hengistbury Head has demonstrated. The Gallic chief, Commius, who had been a friend and ally of Caesar, turned against him in the great revolt of Vercingetorix after the Roman invasion of 55 and 54 BC. Commius was forced to flee to Britain and he established himself as King of the British Atrebates which were presumably an earlier migrant group of the Gallic tribe of the same name.

This broadly is the pattern now emerging from a study of the British coinage and pottery, both native types and imports of this period. The territories of the allies of Caesar were opened for trade with Rome, and the Catuvellauni and the Trinovantes, in particular, acquired a taste for Italian wine and the fine silver vessels for straining and drinking it. There is evidence of Roman traders setting up a depot near Braughing, using the River Lea as the transport link with the Thames. As soon as Cunobeline, who had established himself as ruler over both tribes, moved his capital to Camulodunon (Colchester), no doubt the traders followed and established a new depot on the River Colne.

The tribes of the hinterland were affected to a varying extent by this trade. They copied the Gallo-Belgic coins, soon developed their own styles, and, by the decade prior to the conquest, Rome's official assessment of Britain, according to Strabo, was a healthy balance of trade. In exchange for wine, pottery and silver vessels, Rome received slaves and commodities like hides, grain, silver and, oddly enough, hunting dogs; for even at this early date, the British were showing their canine obsession. The area influenced by this development of trade can be marked in geographic terms by drawing a line from the Humber to the Bristol Channel. None of the tribes to the north and west of this divide minted coins or appears to have had any contact with Rome in the pre-conquest period. The lack of coins deprives us of the evidence to form any assessment of their dynastic histories or tribal boundaries.

There was another important political factor affecting the south-eastern tribes which created serious problems for Rome; the insidious but powerful influence of the Druidic priesthood. This primitive religion, with some quite sophisticated beliefs common to most of the Celtic peoples of the west, was the single unifying link between them. Its priests were drawn from the ruling houses of the tribes, many of whose sons became Druids, and sometimes even the kings themselves, as in the case of Diviacus, the friend of Caesar. As revered advisers to the tribes, the Druids had a very strong political influence, and they clearly saw the advance of Rome as a serious threat to their power and a challenge to their authority. It is likely that some of the chief Druids fled from Gaul at the time of Caesar's invasion and took refuge in Britain, where they initiated and developed a strong anti- Roman feeling among the most susceptible British chieftains.

The policy of Augustus towards Britain was to maintain Caesar's conquest together with the alliances made for the development of trade, and also to ensure that the coastline vital to a successfuI Roman landing remained in friendly hands. This assumption makes it easier to understand some of the sudden political changes in south-eastern Britain. The greatest Roman triumph was to secure the allegiance of Tincommius of the Atrebates, whose father, Commius, had had a pathological hatred of Rome. The coastal tribe probably called itself the Regini ('The Proud Ones', but later Romanised to the Regni), with Bosham Harbour as its chief port, and was also probably an ally of Rome. We know nothing about its rulers, except for one about the time of the conquest, whose name began with the letter 'A'.

Cunobeline was a great statesman, and managed by his powerful character and diplomatic skill to maintain a balance between the pro- and anti-Roman elements in his household. He was able to extend his sphere of influence over a large area of south-eastern Britain. The proud and independent people of East Anglia, the Iceni, were also allies of Rome and this was carefully respected by Cunobeline. He evidently also had friendly relations with the tribe on his western boundary, the northern section of the Dubunni under their ruler, Bodvoc. Here he may well have acted as a diplomatic go-between in introducing them to the Roman traders, whose imports have been found at their main centre, the great oppidum at Bagendon near Cirencester.

The death of Cunobeline c, AD 40 precipitated a political upheaval. The anti-Roman faction in the royal household seized power and totally upset the careful arrangements made and fostered by Rome. The chief agent of this dramatic coup was Caratacus, one of the sons of the great King. Its immediate effect was the flight of Adminius, another son of Cunobeline, and who had been installed as King of the north-east tip of Kent to control the main port of entry at Richborough and the Wansum Channel which provided a shortcut to the Thames. Adminius fled to Caligula and begged him to intervene, but that strange unbalanced Emperor toyed with a plan for invasion but suddenly changed his mind. Meantime, from the scanty evidence of his coins, Caratacus established himself in the territories of the Atrebates and Regini, the other Roman allies. Verica, King of the Atrebates, was forced out of his kingdom and like Adminius appealed to the Emperor, now Claudius. Togodumnus had succeeded to his father's kingdom and was also hostile to Rome. The overall effect of these dynastic upsets and sudden reversal of political alignment was disastrous from Rome's viewpoint. The whole of south-eastern Britain was now in the hands of her enemies. The only allies left were the Iceni and possibly Bodvoc of the northern Dubunni.

Claudius was forced to decide between giving up Britain altogether, abandoning the conquest of Caesar and the unfulfilled hopes of Augustus, or an armed invasion to secure the island and transform it into a province. There were many good reasons for adopting the latter course as Claudius badly needed to be certain of the loyalty of his army, and there was no better opportunity for obtaining this than the prospect of a great victory. There was also the prospect of silver and the natural wealth of Britain in its lands and people. Our concern here, however, is to follow the changes in the attitudes of the British tribes to the invasion and the later consolidation. The well-tried Roman policy of divide and rule had been the basis of Augustan diplomacy and continued during the conquest. The main British force to oppose the advance of the army consisted of the household warriors and levies of the combined kingdom of the tribes of the Catuvellauni and the Trinovantes. They were probably aided by the peoples of Kent and the reluctant levies raised by Caratacus from this newly conquered lands. The attitudes of the more distant tribes are difficult to assess, but we know that the Dubunnic contingent immediately surrendered to Plautius. The Durotriges, with most probably the southern branch of the Dubunni, gave the Romans serious trouble, so it can be assumed that they may have supplied a strong detachment to help oppose the Medway crossing. From subsequent events it seems probable that two tribes gave Rome considerable assistance during the landing and fighting that followed. The Iceni may have harried the northern boundary of the Catuvellauni, with freedom to raid and loot, and the Regini provided the Roman fleet with an important haven in Bosham, from which the army launched its attack along the coast to the west.

After Claudius had ridden in triumph into the British capital, Camulodunon, he received the submission of eleven Kings of Britain, according to the inscription on his triumphal arch in Rome. It is impossible to list all these since some of the smaller tribes were later absorbed into the civitates organised when the provincial administration was established. A strong case could be made for the boundary of the new province to have been based on a line from the Humber to the Bristol Channel, probably following the lower Severn, the Warwickshire Avon and the Trent. Rome had at this time little interest in the lands beyond, which lay mainly in the highland zone and were inhabited by the earlier and less civilised peoples. It was normal practice for Rome to establish buffer states on her frontiers in the form of client kingdoms, an arrangement which held only for the lifetime of the chosen ruler.

In Britain the tribes of a vast area of the Pennines were brought together under the name of the local deity, Brigantia, as a client kingdom, and placed under the rule of Cartimandua, a powerful but devious queen whose loyalty to Rome never faltered. It is likely that an attempt was made to create similar kingdoms on the western frontier along the Severn Valley, but these were frustrated by Caratacus, who had established himself as the head of the anti-Roman forces in the region now known as Wales. No doubt he had the active help and encouragement of the Druids, who had been forced to abandon their sacred groves in south-eastern Britain and settled on the Isle of Anglesey off the coast of north Wales. Claudius made two other arrangements which seem at first sight to be highly anomalous.

After the hard fighting of the initial campaign Rome could have felt satisfied with the rapid conquest and prepared to stabilise and consolidate her new addition to the Empire. Such intentions were shattered by the sudden attack launched by Caratacus and his newly recruited allies. Tacitus tells us that this incursion was into the territory of Rome's allies, and this could place it in the lower Severn, where Caratacus could have linked up with the other group of dissidents in the south-west still smarting from the operations of Vespasian, who with his sea-borne mobility swept right along the south-coast, taking the Britons by surprise.

Such was the state of affairs when Ostorius Scapula arrived to take over the governorship from Aulus Plautius, that it was seen as a serious crisis. In the light of what was to follow, it could be argued that Scapula was panicked into rash measures, excusable only as military necessities, but their effect on the Britons was to be as deplorable for them as for Rome. As Tacitus informs us, all the tribes occupying that territory on the Roman side of the Rivers Trent and Avon, which was effectively the new province, were disarmed. According to Roman law, no one could bear arms except those entitled to do so, the only exception being hunting weapons and utility knives. The help given to Caratacus by his allies inside the province must have revealed the secret caches of arms still available to the Britons, who had probably been required to surrender all their weapons on defeat or under treaty obligations. Scapula was determined to seek out and seize all hidden arms by a show of force and sheer terror tactics to stun the Britons into immobility, while he led his forces forward to deal with Caratacus. The search operation implies units of soldiers taking a village apart, overturning haystacks, looking under floor coverings and making themselves a thoroughly unpleasant nuisance; any protest would merit instant reprisal. A section of the Iceni revolted and had to be suppressed by a dismounted cavalry regiment. Anything more calculated to create anger and resentment cannot be imagined, but worse followed.

The advance to the west to find and destroy Caratacus meant stripping much of the eastern part of the Province of its garrisons. To secure his rear Scapula used the device of founding a colonia of retired veterans at Camulodunon and giving two British rulers the responsibility of maintaining the peace in their areas. To achieve this, Claudius set up two client kingdoms in the south-east, one with Prasutagus as King of the Iceni, and the other with Tiberius Claudius Cogidubnus as King of the two tribes, the Regini and the Atrebates. It is possible that the latter held lands to the west also, taken from the hostile Durotriges after their defeat by Vespasian. This would certainly help to explain the later grouping of the civitates in this area. Cogidubnus was made a Roman citizen, taking the names of his patron. The creation of these two kingdoms seems quite anomalous at the earlier conquest phase, as has hitherto been assumed. The royal estates of the house of Cunobeline, already forfeit, would have been used to provide the land allotments for the veterans. This was very unfortunate for the Trinovantes, the oldest allies of Rome in Britain. After being taken over by the Catuvellauni they had a right to expect some restoration of their territories. For some of their land to be handed over to the Roman soldiers was a bitter pill to swallow, for it meant the loss of the Colne peninsula and much else, which left them only the Essex marches and lands to the north and the area round modern Chelmsford, which probably became their tribal centre. It was convenient for Rome to use confiscated enemy estates to install a strong military reserve in freshly conquered lands. But there was another idea behind it, surprising in that it stemmed from the pragmatic Roman mind: it was actually thought that the veterans would become model citizens whom the newly conquered barbarians could observe and emuIate. This attractive theory was too often proved untenable by the harsh realities. The troops of this period were mainly recruited from the frontier zones, and the thin veneer of 'civilisation' acquired in their army service did little to change them. They were now expected to settle down with the very people with whom they had been fighting and who had been responsible for killing some of their comrades-in-arms. It is hardly surprising that they regarded the Britons as the defeated enemy to be despised and kicked around. Similar attitudes of troops of occupation of all ages and in all places, from South America to India, help us understand the revulsion now felt by many Britons, some of whom may have been sympathetic to Rome and hopeful of recognition of their natural rights and dignity. Any goodwill built up by careful diplomacy and treaties was swept away by Scapula's savage reprisals, and any shreds left with the Trinovantes by the brutal contempt displayed by the veterans at Camulodunon.

This is the backcloth to the dramatic events that were soon to follow. At least for the moment, Scapula was able to concentrate his forces on the western frontier, which now extended to the Wye and the Severn. He sought out Caratacus and stormed the strong defensive position he had chosen, but the British commander escaped, as did many of the British warriors, and attempted to win Cartimandua to his cause. The wily Queen, knowing that her position was totally dependent on Rome, handed him over as a prisoner, giving her ally more cause for gratitude and reward. With his main enemy removed, Scapula might have cause for congratulation, but this was soon forgotten in the savage guerrilla- type tactics of the untamed Silures, whom Scapula had unwisely threatened to exterminate. The Roman army was now committed to establishing a frontier in difficult terrain and their losses steadily mounted until Scapula, worn out with bitterness and frustration, collapsed and died. This seemed a great victory for the undefeated Britons, and since those living within the Province also now had cause to hate Rome, this gave them a real hope of a military success. This may have been the time when Nero and his advisers were concerned about Britain. The Emperor is supposed to have considered giving up the Province, and Seneca, who, as one of his advisers was well informed, is said to have been calling in his, or the Imperial, loans. This act is hardly likely to have endeared the chiefs to the Roman cause, especially if all the money had been spent, and could have been a deciding factor in the hardening of the changing attitudes in some of the royal households.

The third governor, Didius Gallus, managed to stabilise the military position, but there remained the crucial decision on the future of Wales. By now it must have been obvious to the Romans that the power and authority of the Druids was in the ascendancy and that sooner or later their inimical influence had to be removed. The decision involved the total reduction of this large hilly area, and one can understand the arguments and counter arguments among Nero and his advisers; was Britain worth yet further military effort in the face of growing hostility and bitterness? After a few years of indecision Nero finally chose military glory. He may have been reluctant to give up a conquest of his illustrious forbear, Julius Caesar.

The decision was crucial to those Britons who had now resolved to take up arms against Rome if necessary, but for the Druids it was now simply a matter of life or death. At any moment the Roman army could arrive at the narrow strait which separated their holy island from the mainland of north Wales, and they had no protection, except the supernatural powers they felt they could command. But they could still depend on their hold over many of the British chieftains and their families. There seemed only one way for the Druids to prevent their imminent destruction, and that was to ensure that the army never came within reach of them; this could only be achieved either by strong enough resistance in the mountains of north-west Wales or by a serious insurrection deep within the Province. While the Silures and their allies had fought a long and successful guerrilla-type campaign, they did not possess the strength or ability to stop a large Roman force from advancing into their territory, nor had they command of the sea. The only other possibility was a large-scale uprising in the eastern area of the Province, while the Roman army was concentrated on the western frontier, but for this to be effective in diverting the Roman plans, timing was of vital importance.

The man chosen by Nero for the new advance was Quintus Veranius, who had been carefully selected for a senatorial career from an early age, and had distinguished himself as governor in Pamphylia, which is now in Turkey. There he had gained experience in mountain warfare against the tough hill-folk; there is also evidence that he evoked strong feelings of respect from the people of his province, so he was probably also a skilful diplomat. We know nothing of his campaign, except that it was limited to a single season and that the Silures did not appear again as a fighting force. He died within a year of taking up his new office, but by then he had successfully completed the first stage of the reduction of Wales which, according to his will, he expected to complete within his three-year term of office. His successor was Suetonius Paullinus, the best general immediately available. He had gained his reputation in the mountains of North Africa, but he was what the Americans call a 'hard nose' with little respect for civilians.

Suetonius rapidly completed the subjection of south and central Wales, and then turned to the mountain massif of Snowdonia and the centre of hostility it screened. The Druids may have calculated that the difficult terrain would have delayed the advance. If so, they may have reckoned without the fleet, which provided the Roman army with its mobility. Most invaders of north Wales have grasped this essential strategy, except the hapless William Rufus. There is evidence of a Roman presence at Chester by this date, and clearly this harbour on the Dee Estuary held the key for a rapid and unopposed advance. A year's preparation may have gone into the assembling of a fleet of warships and transport vessels.

While the Roman preparations were proceeding with their usual rapidity and efficiency, Prasutagus, the client King of the Iceni, died. Precisely when this occurred is not clear, but from the sequence of events it was probably in 59. The unhappy effect of this event in the royal Icenian household presented the Druids with just the propaganda weapon they needed to foster British discontent. Most historians have assumed that it was the aftermath of Prasutagus' death alone that caused the Revolt and that the Druids were not involved, but I have always taken the view that it was the threat of their imminent extinction which concentrated all their efforts on arresting the progress of the army, with the probability of a great British victory. They would have exploited to the full every real and imagined grievance. Here one is dealing with the balance of probabilities, and readers must decide for themselves, since there is no direct evidence one way or the other.

The death of the King ended the client relationship which was always between the Emperor and a particular ruler, and the presence of such a kingdom within the Province was now a political anomaly. To ensure that his widow and her family were well provided for, Prasutagus left half his wealth to the Emperor, which is also what was expected of a dependent ruler. To claim his inheritance, Nero would have instructed the chief financial officer in Britain, the Procurator, Decianus Catus, to make a full inventory of the royal estates and possessions. This was all legal and proper, but in the execution of this work things went sadly wrong. One can only assume that the Roman officials exceeded their authority and treated the royal family with disrespect. One of the Queen's bodyguards may have intervened and blows been exchanged. Such an incident could have been handled with tact by a sympathetic procurator, but one who was weak or self-seeking could have panicked or exploited such an incident to his advantage. Whatever may have happened, it was treated as an act of war and in these circumstances the perpetrators forfeited all rights. The flogging of Boudica and the raping of her daughters followed, together with the seizure of the royal treasury and all goods on behalf of the Emperor. If the Procurator was looking for his own pickings, it would have been in his interest to provoke a reaction that could be construed as hostile.

The Druids by their widespread influence in high places were able to make Boudica the focus and figurehead of all anti-Roman feeling. The rage of the Iceni spread through the south-east, affecting first the Trinovantes who had been simmering in discontent for some years. Soon others were gathering their weapons together, eager to settle scores against those who had exploited them, especially while the army was far away. The dreadful results are well-known and this is no place to trace the course of the events to their bitter culmination on a Midland plain.' The purpose of this brief article is to consider the attitudes and reactions of the British tribes, and here several points of significance may be noted.

Some of the areas of hostility and loyalty to Rome can be identified. Cogidubnus held his groups of southern tribes aloof and survived in honour and respect. He may have provided an escape route along Stane Street to Bosham Harbour. Cartimandua, Queen of the Brigantes, also remained loyal; had she turned against Rome she had the resources to turn the balance with a sudden thrust from the north. On the other hand, the old enemies, the Durotriges, possibly with their allies the southern Dobunni, were soon on the rampage and pinned down Legio II Augusta in its fortress at Exeter and prevented it from joining Paullinus in the Midlands. How the other tribes lined up against Rome it is impossible to say, but the presence of army units in their territory probably kept the Coritani and the Cornovii quiet, and this would also have applied to the northern Dobunni with a cavalry regiment at Cirencester, but their allegiance was to Rome anyway. So Britain was split down the middle and if one includes the tribes of Wales, which were battered into submission, the possibility is that less than half played an active role in the Revolt. Had more Britons revolted, it seems doubtful whether the Roman recovery would have been so rapid.

Paullinus pursued a vigorous policy of revenge for his heavy losses into the winter season. The new Procurator, Julius Classicianus, began to fear that the devastation might have a serious lasting effect on the rebel areas. A commission of enquiry confirmed this assessment, and the Governor was withdrawn, though his period of service had in fact ended in the winter of 60/61, so Tacitus would appear to magnify a grievance to make a political point in favour of his hero whose memoirs he may have used for his Annals . Some have argued that the lands of the Iceni suffered so badly from this act of destruction that the tribe remained economically backward. But this view is probably due to our imperfect knowledge of the remains of this period in East Anglia, bearing in mind, too, that with the shortage of good building stone most of the buildings would have been in timber, the excavation and interpretation of which has only recently become a normal archaeological technique.

One can assume that the leaders of the Revolt were eliminated, removing the upper levels of tribal society, and also that the lands and possessions of the tribes would have been seized by the state to be retained as ager publicus , sold off to speculators or given as rewards to loyalists. Such lands would certainly have been subject to reorganisation, under new management. The effect of such a drastic change of ownership, especially of tribal lands, would have been to bring new capital into the area with development programmes to exploit the land for profit. Rather than any devastated areas remaining derelict for any time, quite the reverse may have been the case, and archaeology, especially from the air, is now beginning to produce evidence for development on a much larger scale than appreciated hitherto.

The most important aspect of the Revolt was its effect on the attitude of the Roman Government towards Britain. Resentment of this magnitude was a clear indication of the failure of the avowed policy of pacification and Romanisation. In the first decades of occupation it was now evident that far too much effort had been concentrated on the stabilisation of the Province in purely military terms and too little attention paid to the feelings and aspirations of the Britons, except through the few carefully selected agents, and there had been a tacit acceptance that the rest would come to accept Rome. A real attempt had now to be made to change the political climate under which the Roman way of life could be accepted and economic development 'could prosper. The two Governors after Paullinus were diplomats and administrators and not like the military men who had caused so much havoc. For the next three centuries there was no further trouble within the Province of Britannia, and all the military problems were confined to the northern frontier, except that in the late second century the Brigantes seem to have been in a state of unrest, but the historical reference is far from clear.

By the end of the first century all the tribal capitals had their gridded street plan laid out and work had started on the public buildings. The urban model was extended by Hadrian in the areas beyond the original Province to the cities at Wroxeter, Carlisle and Caerwent. The foundations were now securely laid for a long period of prosperity rising to a peak in the early fourth century, if one can judge from the mansion-type houses in the towns and countryside. The bitter lessons of the early years were learnt and digested; crude though they may have been, Rome's attitude towards its conquered peoples was far more effective than that of the nineteenth century imperialists. It is a sober thought that had our colonial administrators studied early Roman Imperial history, instead of the gang warfare of the late Republic, a few useful ideas about the problems of subject people might have seeped into their thinking.

Dr Graham Webster is Reader in Archaeology at the University of Birmingham.   

Source URL: https://www.historytoday.com/archive/british-under-roman-rule-study-colonialism