Slaves of Fear: A Land Unconquered

by James Mace

  “By Odin and Jupiter,” Magnus said quietly. He heard a startled yelp as Ana came around the corner.

  Her hands were over her mouth, eyes wide.

  “Hello, Ana. I seem to have met young Titus.”

  Without a word, she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around them both, kissing Magnus on the lips and face.

  “I wasn’t sure if I’d ever see you again,” she said breathlessly. “I heard there was a terrible battle, and that Caratacus was defeated, but no one could tell me if you were alive or dead.”

  “Very much alive,” Magnus reassured her with a chuckle. “And no longer a soldier of Rome.”

  As he stood in the small courtyard garden, Caratacus ran his hand over his face. It was a strange feeling. He had not been clean-shaven since his youth. Eurgain had implored him to do so. As they were now captives in all but name, and did not wish to be made a spectacle of, it would be best if they made themselves look like Romans. While he had shaved, Caratacus elected to wear a far more practical tunic rather than the more formal and cumbersome toga. On this particular day, he was expecting a visit from the emperor himself, who promised to pay his respects and see how the king and his family were assimilating to Roman life. Though they had recently been mortal enemies, Emperor Claudius treated Caratacus almost as if he were a personal friend. It was still early in the day, and the visitor who beat on the large double doors of the outer courtyard was the last person he ever expected or wanted to see.

  Caratacus’ face hardened as the doors opened and his brother strolled into the garden. His face was freshly shaved, his hair cropped short, and he wore a formal Roman toga. It even bore the narrow purple stripe Caratacus learned denoted a member of the imperial lesser-nobility. There was something about Amminus’ demeanour, however. A sense of sorrow and regret. His fist clenching his tunic, Caratacus fought to supress his utter hatred for his brother, whose throat he wished to tear out with his bare hands. So great was his fury that he found himself unable to speak.

  “Brother,” Amminus said, nodding almost to the point of a bow. “It gladdens me to see that you live, and are being treated well.”

  Eurgain came into the garden from the east wing, her eyes widening at the sight of her brother-in-law. Her teeth clenched, face red with anger, as she made ready to scream a torrent of abuse at him. Caratacus raised his hand, silencing her before she could unleash.

  “What is it you want?” he asked, fighting his rage, his voice quiet and hoarse. “Have you come to gloat over your fallen kinsman? That we are prisoners of Rome is not enough for you?” Finally he could contain his emotions no longer. “Aeron damn you, Amminus!” His eyes were wet with tears of hatred. “Why?”

  For all his previous senses of confidence and triumph, after witnessing his brother’s defeat at Caer Caradoc, Amminus now struggled to find the words he needed.

  “I did what I had to,” he finally said, tears streaming down his cheeks. Unlike his brother, he wept from pent up anguish brought on by the horrific guilt of having betrayed his own family. “The Romans have rewarded me greatly, yet each toast in my honour tastes like a bitter poison. Every gift and honour they bestow upon me scorches my soul like burning coals. My quarrel was with our father, and when he died I longed for nothing more than to return home, yet our brother would not allow it.”

  “Togodumnus never forgave you,” Caratacus conceded.

  “And yet I still loved him. You may think I’m a liar, but I wept for him when he was slain.”

  “He was killed by those who murdered and enslaved your own people; the very people you betrayed!”

  “I have no people!” Amminus shouted in despair. “When Father had me exiled, I was no longer a Catuvellauni. I had no home, no tribe, and no family! What was I to do?”

  Caratacus hardened his heart, refusing to allow his brother’s words to move him. “Well, you’ve had your revenge. Am I supposed to pity you now?”

  “Not pity,” Amminus said, slowly shaking his head. He composed himself and took a deep breath, struggling with his next words. “What I have come to ask is much more difficult than simple pity. I am here to ask your forgiveness.”

  Caratacus was dumbfounded by this. Amminus, who had stood triumphant with the Romans at Caer Caradoc, who had helped destroy the alliance against the invaders, was now asking—almost begging—for his forgiveness. He turned away for a few moments, composing his thoughts. Caratacus’ fearsome rage was now replaced by a series of conflicting feelings. While much of him still hated his brother, another part of him did pity Amminus, strange and perverse as that seemed. He slowly began to accept why his emotions were so powerful. He knew he could never give his brother that which he most desired. He looked to Eurgain, whose own countenance showed she was equally conflicted. She gazed at her husband and gave a slow nod of consent.

  “Amminus,” he said calmly, his voice much calmer, still cracked with emotion. He stepped forward and placed both hands on his brother’s shoulders, causing him to shudder. “As Rome is no longer my enemy neither are you. It will take some time, but I promise to let go of the hate within my heart. You are a prince of Catuvellauni. But more importantly, you are my brother, and you have my love. But my forgiveness…” He shook his head sadly.

  In that moment, both brothers understood.

  “That is something I am unable to give you. And for that, I am sorry.”

  The two embraced and Amminus took his leave, giving a sad look of acknowledgment towards Eurgain before departing.

  As he watched his brother walk through the gate, Caratacus knew he had seen him for the last time.

  It was late afternoon when Emperor Claudius called upon Caratacus. For this, the former high king was thankful. It had taken much time to compose himself following his emotional final encounter with his brother. The emperor wore a simple toga this day, devoid of any formal trappings.

  “Welcome, Caesar,” Caratacus said with a bow. “You honour my house with your presence.”

  “Please, the honour is mine,” Claudius said.

  It surprised Caratacus that the emperor had ordered his guardsmen to stay within the garden and to leave the two alone. They walked together along the balcony that looked towards Capitoline Hill and the magnificent temples that dominated the city landscape.

  “It is a splendid city,” Caratacus said approvingly. “Far more magnificent than any I have ever seen.”

  “You had your own forms of wealth,” Claudius replied. “I have seen your old kingdom, and it is beautiful in its own right.”

  “And I am sorry I will never see it again. But from what I have seen, Rome is truly blessed by the divines.” He paused and clutched the stone rail, unsure how he should word his next question. “Can I ask you something?”

  “You are my guest, and a friend of Caesar,” Claudius reassured him. “You can ask me anything.”

  Caratacus took a deep breath. “Why did you come to Britannia? What was there in our land that Caesar so desired? How can you, who lords over the world with an empire of splendour worthy of the gods, covet our poor tents?”

  Historical Afterward

  Caratacus and his family remained in Rome, where they lived out their days as guests of the Caesars. His date of death is unrecorded, though as he is not mentioned at all during the reign of Vespasian, one can assume he died prior to 69 A.D. Whatever his status or eventual fate, Caratacus and his family were certainly not treated as slaves. The villa given to them by Emperor Claudius became known as the Palatium Britannicum. The 4th century Church of Santa Pudenziana is thought to be built upon the same site. Caratacus’ daughter would go on to marry a Roman senator named Rufus, adopting the name Claudia Rufina and becoming a Roman citizen herself.

  A 17th century image of Caratacus

  Amminus returned to Britannia, where he was treated as a prince of the peoples under Roman dominion and also became a Roman citizen. He was likely made a member of the equites or senatorial class; a not uncommon status given to wealthy all
ied nobility who became citizens. He married a Roman woman of noble origins, further strengthening alliances between the empire and indigenous nobles. Amminus’ son, Sallustius Lucullus, would serve as Governor of Britannia from 84 to 89 A.D. An inscription was found in Chichester, England, not far from the Roman Palace at Fishbourne, which is dedicated to ‘Lucullus, son of Amminus’. Through his Roman nephew, the bloodline of Caratacus lorded over more of Britannia than even the greatest Catuvellauni kings.

  Ostorius Scapula was awarded Triumphal Ornaments for his defeat of Caratacus, even though resistance to Roman rule continued in Wales. His health continued to decline, and he died just two years after his decisive victory at Caer Caradoc. His final resting place is thought to be in the Vale of Glamorgan, the southernmost county in Wales. A statue in his honour was erected on the terrace of the Roman Baths located in Bath, England, in the 19th century.

  Statue of Ostorius Scapula

  The Roman Baths, Bath, England

  The isle of Britannia proved to be a very difficult province for the Romans to subdue. Scapula’s immediate successors, Didius Gallus (52 to 57 A.D.), Quintus Veranius (57 A.D. died soon after taking office) and Suetonius Paulinus (57 to 61 A.D.) fought a series of wars, both against rebellious provincials, as well as the still-unconquered regions of Wales. While arable land was the true measure of any province’s wealth, the plethora of valuable metals made Wales one of the foremost regions for mining within the Roman Empire. Vast complexes were built to harvest copper, tin, lead, silver, zinc, and iron. Though perhaps greatest of all, in terms of wealth-producing, were the gold mines at Dolaucothi. Scholars and archaeologists had attempted, unsuccessfully, to ascertain the volume of gold extracted. Given that Dolaucothi was still in use through Victorian times, the amount of gold mined by the Romans is thought to be considerable. Today, one can still tour the old Roman mining tunnels, and see first-hand the marks left by tens-of-thousands of pickaxes over the near-four centuries of Roman rule.

  The Deceangli continued for some time to resist the rule of Rome, namely due to the strong influence of the local druids. They made their stronghold on the Isle of Anglesey, where they were destroyed by the armies of Suetonius Paulinus in 61 A.D., just prior to the Iceni rebellion under Queen Boudicca. After which, the Deceangli disappeared from historical record.

  Due to the horrific losses suffered at Caer Caradoc, the Ordovices were subdued and remained docile for twenty years. In the 70s A.D., they rose in rebellion, nearly wiping out a regiment of Roman cavalry that was garrisoned in their territory. The Roman governor at the time, Julius Agricola, unleashed a merciless campaign of annihilation against the Ordovices. According to Tacitus, Agricola succeeded in exterminating the entire tribe. While it is highly unlikely that the entire population was wiped out, they disappeared from all historical records. Survivors were likely either enslaved or scattered and assimilated into other tribes.

  The peace made between Rome and the Demetae would, surprisingly, endure. Their territory was one of the few regions where imperial troops were never stationed. And yet their volatile neighbours, the Silures, made no concerted attempt to conquer their lands. Around 75 A.D. they were elevated to a Roman civitas, or ‘Romanized state’. Their capital was founded at Moridunum, in what is now Carmathen, just north of the River Towy. Of all the ancient tribal kingdoms in Wales, the Demetae were the only ones allowed to maintain both their name, as well as at least some semblance of their indigenous culture. Villas that have been excavated have shown most settlements to be decidedly pre-Roman, albeit with some upgrades in masonry and plumbing that came after the conquest. This suggests that, unlike eastern Britannia, the Demetae maintained a measure of independence and were never fully integrated into Roman culture.

  The ever-warlike Silures proved to be among the hardest peoples for the Romans to subdue. Subsequent Roman governors tried both diplomacy and force to bring them to heel. Tacitus praises the Silures for their ‘natural ferocity’, further stating that ‘neither severity nor clemency converted them’. Agricola’s predecessor, Sextus Julius Frontinus, fought a long, bitter campaign against the Silures from 75 to 78 A.D. During this time, he established the permanent legionary fortress for Legio II, Augusta, at a place called Isca, in what is now Caerleon in Wales. Other Roman forts were established near Chepstow and Caerwent. It was only with such an overwhelming and permanent presence of imperial troops within their lands that the Silures were finally tamed. The town of Venta Silurum, now known as Caerwent, was established as the civilian administrative capital of the newly-conquered tribe.

  Though Ostorius Scapula’s decisive victory shattered Caratacus’ alliance, it is still a tribute to the tenacity of the resistance fighters that Wales was not fully conquered and assimilated into the Roman Empire until twenty-seven years after Caer Caradoc.

  The Roman amphitheatre in Caerleon, established around 78 A.D. Located just outside the fortress, it served as both an entertainment venue as well as a drill field for legionaries.