THE QUEEN
The Iceni were one of the tribes to welcome the Roman invaders. They lived in East Anglia, north of the Catuvellauni and Trinovantes, and no doubt saw them as the greater danger. Early on they became Roman allies, and it is more than likely that one or more of the rulers who submitted to Claudius came from this tribe. Avoiding war with Rome, their leaders kept their power and prospered as allies. Others were doing the same thing, most notably a certain Togidubnus, a king of the Atrebates. (His name was originally restored as Cogidubnus, but this now seems less likely.) An inscription from Chichester makes it clear that he received Roman citizenship from Claudius and describes him as ‘king and legate of the emperor in Britannia’ (regis legati Augusti in Britannia), while Tacitus tells us that other tribes were placed under his rule. Another man who was probably a chieftain granted citizenship around this time was Tiberius Claudius Catuarus, known only from a gold ring found near the site at Fishbourne in Sussex.5
Some of the Iceni wavered from their alliance when Aulus Plautius, the leader of the invasion, was replaced as governor sometime in AD 47. His successor decided to disarm communities within the Roman province whose loyalty was suspect. We do not know the basis for his suspicions, because the only account of this incident comes from a brief and confused passage of Tacitus. It was not normal Roman practice to disarm the population of the provinces. A token handing-over of weapons could form part of a surrender, but total disarmament was neither practical nor desirable. As under the Republic, provincial communities were expected to police their own areas, and in many cases were called upon to provide allied soldiers or equipment to support the Roman army. A group of Iceni persuaded warriors from other tribes to join them and rebelled, occupying an earth-walled settlement. We do not know whether these were led by men who had originally sided with Rome, or leaders whose rivals had done so and who had accordingly lost out in local politics. The Roman governor responded quickly, leading a force composed solely of auxiliaries against the town and storming it. This success ended the rebellion, which in itself suggests that the numbers involved were small, making it doubtful that more than a section of the Iceni took part.6
One leader who stayed out of this early rebellion was Prasutagus, king of all or some of the Iceni and according to Tacitus ‘distinguished by his long prosperity’. We do not know whether or not he was also granted citizenship, but when he died in AD 60 the king made his two daughters joint heirs with Nero, ‘an act of obsequiousness which he thought would place his kingdom and household safe from harm’. The emperors did not automatically grant to allied kings the right of naming a successor and his hope may well have been to guide the Roman decision. Unfortunately, Nero’s reckless spending made him desperate for increased revenue from the empire. Whether or not they acted on direct orders, officials on the spot decided to interpret the will as permitting the immediate seizure of royal property. They were led by Decianus Catus, the imperial procurator, a post created by Augustus to act for his legates much as quaestors acted for proconsuls in senatorial provinces. However, unlike a quaestor, the procurator was very much the emperor’s man, able to report directly to him, and could be used to check the behaviour of the provincial legate.7
In AD 60 the legate of Britain was Caius Suetonius Paulinus, but he was at the opposite side of the province, leading a campaign which culminated in an attack on the Isle of Mona (Anglesey) and the destruction of the shrines there sacred to the druidic religion. As well as taxation, the procurator was responsible for imperial property in a province, and in this case he was also the man on the spot. To make matters worse, existing debts to other prominent Romans were called in, including some owed to the emperor’s close advisor, the philosopher Seneca. Like the cities and leaders of Cicero’s province, the royal house may not have been capable of paying, but many chieftains were faced with demands for immediate repayment. Decianus Catus probably assisted in some of these cases, helping friends and friends of friends, and his actions were both insensitive and highly aggressive, responding with brutal force to any resistance as he seized royal property ‘as if it were booty’. The king’s widow Boudicca was publicly flogged, and his daughters raped. With the bulk of the provincial army far away, its distant threat weighed little against such dreadful humiliation. The Iceni rebelled, led by Boudicca.8
They were soon joined by other tribes. Their neighbours the Trinovantes had fought against Rome in AD 43, but after seventeen years only the older men could remember what it was like to face the legions in battle and suffer defeat. All ages knew about the reality of occupation. A legion had garrisoned Camulodunum until AD 48, when it was moved to rejoin the campaign. In its place a colony was established for discharged army veterans, with the former soldiers being given land confiscated from the Trinovantes, so that they could farm and support their families. Augustus had banned soldiers from marrying, but some would have brought unofficial wives with them, while others found local girls. With all the confidence of conquerors, this often brash and overbearing foreign presence was a constant reminder of defeat. Rubbing salt into the wound was a high statue to the goddess of Victory, and the Temple of the Divine Claudius – a grand building whose solid foundations were later used by the Normans when they built Colchester Castle. This great structure and the sacrifices required to honour the cult of the deified emperor in a suitable manner were expensive and, whether the priests were retired officers from among the colonists or tribal aristocrats compelled to take part, the price was ultimately paid from levies on the tribe.9
The burden of taxation was felt elsewhere and most likely persuaded others to rise against the Romans. Then there were the leaders who had done badly since the occupation and wanted to regain power, and those who had done well, but now hoped to do better again if the invaders were expelled. We cannot say whether the attack on the druids and their sacred groves provoked widespread hatred of the Romans. Julius Caesar wrote about the importance of the druids in Gaul, particularly in the spiritual life of communities, but also their legal and diplomatic role in arbitrating disputes between tribes, but he did not depict them as leading resistance against him. Augustus banned Roman citizens from participating in the druidic cult, and presumably also banned the human sacrifice that formed part of it, but otherwise did not act against it. Tiberius made the religion illegal and suppressed it in Gaul, and this was surely extended to Britain after the invasion. Caesar claimed that in his day some Gauls went to Britain to receive the highest levels of druidic teaching.10
The Romans found human sacrifice unpalatable (while happily watching public executions and gladiatorial sports). As importantly, druids with the authority to regulate the relationship between different tribes, and the formidable power to expel individuals from participation in the ritual life of their own community, offered an alternative to the political system created in the provinces. The Romans preferred to act through the wider warrior aristocracy in Gaul and Britain, rather than the separate and smaller druidic elite. Suetonius Paulinus destroyed the cult sites on Mona, and this was clearly one, if not the sole, objective of his operations in Wales. It is hard to believe that news of this blow to the traditional religion and to old certainties about the world did not add to the mood of anger, hatred and desperation. What is clear is that from the beginning the rebels acted with a savagery that was extreme even by the brutal standards of the ancient world. It is equally obvious that the Romans did not expect this outburst of rage.11
The colony at Camulodunum was the first to feel this fury. It had no defences – walls were expensive and time-consuming to build, and more effort had gone into the public buildings appropriate for a city of Roman citizens. The colony’s magistrates asked the procurator for help, but all that arrived were some 200 soldiers without proper equipment, most likely men detached from their units on staff or police duties. Added to the small garrison and the veterans armed with whatever was available, it was a pathetically inadequate force to defend an unwalled town. Some barricaded t
hemselves in the Temple of Claudius and held out for two days, but no more help came. The town was burned to the ground – archaeologists have found a thick layer of burnt material on the site dating to this period, and in it are badly scorched coins, pottery and other debris. No prisoners were taken. The same was true when the rebels moved on to destroy Londinium – now grown from a trading colony into a large and more formal town – and Verulamium, the tribal capital of the Catuvellauni (modern St Albans). There seemed every chance that the province would be lost to Rome.12
Decianus Catus fled to Gaul, but Tacitus repeated a report that some 70,000 people died in these massacres or when smaller communities in the countryside were destroyed. A later historian raised the number to 80,000. Such figures cannot be proved or disproved, but there is no doubt that the losses were very heavy and a total in the tens of thousands is more than likely. Tacitus expressed surprise that the rebels did not want captives to sell or ransom in ‘the usual way of war’, but dealt in slaughter, crucifixion, gibbets and fires. Writing a century and a half after the events, Dio offered some gruesome details which may or may not be accurate:
The worst and most bestial atrocity committed by their captors was the following. They hung up naked the noblest and most distinguished women and then cut off their breasts and sewed them to their mouths, in order to make the victims appear to be eating them; afterwards they impaled the women on sharp skewers run lengthwise through the entire body. All this they did to the accompaniment of sacrifices, banquets and wanton behaviour.13
The first major response from the Roman army came when the legate in command of Legio IX Hispana led part of his command south to attack the rebels. There are few details, but the result was a disaster. The legate escaped with his cavalry, but everyone on foot was slaughtered by the Iceni and their allies. A few months later 2,000 legionaries were sent from the Rhine garrisons to reinforce IX Hispana, which may give some idea of the losses, although no doubt there were heavy casualties among the auxiliaries as well. It took time for the news of the revolt to reach Suetonius Paulinus, and longer still for him to march his army back to face the rebels. The governor and a small escort reached Londinium before it fell, but he did not have the troops to hold the town and so abandoned it to its fate, taking only those civilians capable of keeping up with him.
Paulinus had barely 10,000 men when he confronted Boudicca’s much larger host on ground of his own choosing. There were so many people with the queen’s forces that they could not stay in one place for any length of time before supplies ran out, so she could not afford a long campaign. The Britons were eager and confident, but mixed aristocrats and their followers with greater numbers of enraged farmers, lacking training or proper equipment. Behind the masses of fighters their womenfolk watched from a line of wagons at the rear. The Romans were veterans, used to victory, as well as disciplined and practised in working as a team. They were also enraged by the sights and stories of the atrocities committed by the rebels. The fighting was heavy and prolonged, but in the end the Britons broke and were slaughtered as they tried to flee. Legionaries and auxiliaries cut down warriors and the watching women alike, and even slaughtered the enemy’s baggage animals. Such merciless and indiscriminate killing was rare, if only because slaves and beasts were worth money and the soldiers could expect their share of the spoils.
The tide had turned, although the war was not over. Boudicca died soon after the battle – taking poison in one version and dying of disease in another – and no names are given for other leaders who continued the struggle. Paulinus devastated the lands of the tribes who had rebelled, killing and burning. Food was short because agriculture had been so badly disrupted, and so hunger and disease inflicted even greater loss. Deaths among the Iceni and their allies were most likely far higher than the casualties they had inflicted. A new procurator named Julius Classicianus had replaced Decianus Catus – sadly we do not know the latter’s fate – and this man did not get on well with the legate. He complained to the emperor that Paulinus was too vindictive in his punishment of the rebels, and an imperial freedman was sent to investigate the matter. Paulinus was replaced, ostensibly for the loss of some warships to bad weather rather than any criticism of his strategy. His successor proved far more conciliatory – or lazy and lacking in spirit according to the cynical Tacitus – and peace returned. Classicianus died during his tenure as procurator, and the inscription from his tomb is now in the British Museum.14
In time – probably faster than we might expect – the burnt towns were rebuilt and soon flourished anew. We do not know how many tribes joined the Iceni and Trinovantes, but some certainly did not. Leaders like Togidubnus and Catuarus, and no doubt many others whose names are lost, remained loyal to their alliance with the Romans. If they fought at all, then it was against the rebels, and plenty of Britons were among the victims of Boudicca’s army – the bulk of the population of Verulamium were locals. Many, perhaps most, Britons did not rebel in AD 60, whether through loyalty, fear of reprisals or fear of domination by the other tribes, or because they did not have personal experience of such brutal behaviour by Roman officials. Whatever the reasons, the continued loyalty of a large section of the provincial population was a major factor in the Roman victory. Even more striking is the fact that after Boudicca, there is no evidence for any significant revolt in lowland Britain until the end of Roman rule more than three centuries later. Most of this area shows every sign of stability and prosperity, although the territory of the Iceni was turned into one of the poorer regions of southern Britain.15
TAXES AND ILL-TREATMENT
There are quite a few similarities between the rebellion of Boudicca and the great rising under Vercingetorix in 53–52 BC. In each case the initiative came from tribes and leaders who had not fought the Romans during the early period of conquest. They were allies and had often gained power, influence and wealth through the association. Only later, a realisation that Roman rule was permanent caused them to think again. Julius Caesar’s killing of Dumnorix and the public execution of Acco, and in AD 60 the plundering and brutal treatment of Boudicca and the royal household of the Iceni, demonstrated that no one was safe if they upset Rome’s representatives. Occupation brought this risk, meant the loss of liberty and also of many of the opportunities of independence. Natural rage at her own and her daughters’ awful abuse by the Romans fired Boudicca’s urge to rebel, but in most cases calculation went alongside emotion. Caesar was known to be south of the Alps in the winter of 53–52 BC and so away from his army. In AD 60 Paulinus and the main Roman field army were also off on campaign and would not be able to intervene for some time. The great Pannonian revolt under Augustus was said to have been encouraged when the peoples there mustered allied contingents to send to the Roman army and realised how great their own numbers were.16
The rebellion in Germany in AD 9 was the most successful revolt against Roman rule under the Principate, and it was no coincidence that it began just as the war against the Pannonians came to an end. That it had taken three years, considerable casualties, and more than a third of the entire Roman army to suppress this rising suggested that the Romans were not invincible. Even more importantly, the conflict had drawn in the bulk of fresh recruits at a time when these were hard to find. Germany was not the first priority, and so got a much smaller share of resources and talented officers of all ranks. It still had a sizeable garrison of five legions, while the provincial legate was Publius Quinctilius Varus, who had governed the imperial province of Syria and in 4 BC led his army to crush insurrections in Judaea. Now in his fifties, his wife was Augustus’ great-niece, and this may well have been the most important factor in his selection.17
The main advance into Germany had begun in 12 BC and for a long time was a family affair, with armies led by Augustus’ stepsons Drusus and Tiberius. At first Roman armies operated across the Rhine during the spring and summer, before returning to bases on the Rhineland each winter. It was a while before they risked wintering
in the new province of Germany which stretched to the River Elbe, but soon this became normal. Civilian settlements grew up around the forts and more permanent communities were established when the army moved on. Excavation has revealed an entire town at Wald-grimes, founded at the end of the first century BC or the very start of the first century AD. Most of the area was peaceful, and after a burst of fighting in AD 5 there were only minor outbreaks of violence. This was not always directed against the Romans, for the tribes had a long tradition of raiding each other, but after Varus arrived in AD 7 he was pleased to see disputes between leaders and peoples being settled in court rather than battle.18
Varus may have tried to rush the process of establishing the province, and levied a regular tax on the tribes. This probably involved a census to assess their property and obligations to pay – something which was often a source of resentment. If conducted fairly it still imposed new burdens on communities, and there was always the chance of graft among the officials carrying it out. A little earlier, an imperial freedman working in Gaul had invented two extra months to each year and increased the tax accordingly. His excuse was that the last month of the year was named December, which means ‘the tenth month’. The name came from the old lunar calendar replaced by Julius Caesar in 46 BC with the solar calendar used to this day. The name was kept because of important religious and political dates, such as 31 December when the consuls laid down their office. The freedman explained to the provincials that there must obviously be an eleventh and twelfth month and forced them to pay for these as well.19
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