Cassell's Illustrated History of England/Volume 1/Chapter 2
CHAPTER II.
The Landing of the Romans—Battle with the Britons—Defeat of the latter—They sue for Peace, which is granted—Privations of the Invaders—The War breaks out again.
Cæsar embarked the infantry of two of his legions in eighty vessels, which he assembled at Itius-Portus, supposed by some writers to be Calais, by others the village of Wessant, between that place and Boulogne. He divided the vessels amongst his principal officers, and set sail with a favourable wind during the night. Eighteen galleys at a distant part of the coast had received his cavalry, and sailed about the same time. At ten the following morning the expedition appeared off the coast, where the inhabitants were seen in arms, ready to receive it. The spot, it would seem, was unfavourable for landing, and, for the first time in his life, Cæsar hesitated, and dropped anchor till three in the afternoon, hoping for the arrival of his other galleys. Disappointed in his expectation, he sailed along the coast, and finally decided on disembarking at Deal, where the shore
Caledonians, or Picts.
was comparatively level, and presented less difficulty for such an enterprise. But here, too, the Britons were prepared, a considerable force being collected to oppose him.
The galleys drew too much water to permit the invaders to land at once upon the beach, and the soldiers hesitated. There was a momentary confusion amongst them.
"Follow me, comrades!" exclaimed the standard-bearer, "if you would not see the eagle in the hands of the enemy. For myself, if I perish, I shall have done my duty to Rome and to my general."
At these words he plunged into the waves, and was followed by the men, who leaped tumultuously after him, ashamed, most likely, of their previous cowardice and hesitation. On reaching the shore, they fell with the utmost fury on the enemy, whose undisciplined ranks could ill sustain the shock of the Roman legion; still, they fought desperately, excited by their bards and priests, who sing the songs of victory, and exhorted them to renew the combat each time they seemed to waver.
We can easily imagine the cool steadiness of the Romans, and the fiery courage, mingled with terror and surprise, of the Britons at finding themselves exposed to men armed and disciplined in so novel a manner. Desperate acts of devotion, doubtless, were not wanting amongst them. At last they were compelled to give way, and retreat to the shelter of the woods, with their chariots and broken ranks. Cæsar himself informs us that he was prevented from pursuing the victory by the absence of his cavalry—a circumstance which he bitterly laments, since its presence alone was wanting to crown his fortune.
Landing of Julius Cæsar. (See p. 6.)
Although it does not appear that he ventured to follow the fugitives, the victory must have been complete, seeing they sent ambassadors, accompanied by Comius, whom the Britons released from his prison and chains to sue for peace. The victor complained, and with some show of justice, of the reception he had met with, after they had sent envoys to him in Gaul with offers of submission, and also of the arrest of his ambassador; and lamented the blood that had been shed.
To this harangue the Britons artfully replied that they had imprisoned Comius in order to preserve him from the fury of the people, and with this excuse Cæsar either was or affected to be content. He granted the peace they came to solicit, and demanded hostages, which were promised, for the future
It is not to be supposed that an all-powerful, and, in this instance, a patriotic priesthood like the Druids would patiently permit their influence to be annihilated, and the institutions they had established with so much care destroyed by a mere handful of invaders, who had barely obtained a landing-place on the coast of the island. In the deepest recesses of the gloomy forests which they inhabited, fearful rites were doubtless celebrated. Human victims poured forth their blood on Odin's altar; oracles were delivered, and omens seen, calculated to rouse the courage of the vanquished Britons, and excite them once more to take arms against the enemy, whose position became anything but a secure one.
A storm dispersed the eighteen galleys which were to transport the cavalry of Cæsar, and drove them back upon the coast of Gaul. This was not the only misfortune the Romans endured. That same night the moon was at its full; it was the season of the equinox, and the tide rose to an unusual height, filling the vessels which Cæsar had drawn out of the reach of danger, as he imagined, on the sands. The larger ships, which had served him as a means of transport, were driven from their anchors, and many of them wrecked.
Although perfectly aware of the perils which menaced their invaders, the Britons appear to have proceeded with the utmost caution. Whilst a league was secretly being formed to crush them, their chiefs appeared, daily in their camp, professing unbroken friendship.
The Britons, who had secretly collected their forces, fell suddenly upon the seventh legion, which had been sent to a distance to forage. The plan was well contrived to defeat the enemy in detail. Many of their leaders remained in the neighbourhood of the camp, in order to lull suspicion, whilst their confederates surprised the Romans, who—having laid aside their arms—were soon surrounded, and must have been cut off but for the timely arrival of Cæsar, who, warned by his outposts that a cloud of dust thicker than usual had been seen at a distance, guessed immediately what had occurred. With a portion of his army he fell upon the assailants, and, after a desperate struggle, disengaged the threatened legion, and returned with it to the camp in safety. The lesson was a sharp one, and the rains soon afterwards setting in, the invader did not attempt to renew the battle.
The islanders, meanwhile, had not been idle: messengers had been dispatched in every direction, calling on the various nations to take arms; the Druids preached war to the death; and a sufficient force was soon assembled to attack the Romans in their camp. Discipline, however, again prevailed against the courage of the barbarians, as Tacitus contemptuously calls them; although he admits at the same time their bravery, and adds that it was a fortunate thing for Cæsar that the country was so divided into petty states, and that the jealousies of their respective rulers prevented the unity of action which alone could ensure success. Had the Britons been united, they might have bid defiance to the legions of Rome.
Once more the islanders demanded peace, which Cæsar granted them; in fact, he was scarcely in a position to do otherwise, for he already meditated a retreat. He embarked his army suddenly in the night, and retired to Gaul, taking the hostages he had received with him.
Although the senate at Rome ordered a thanksgiving of twenty days for the triumph of the Roman arms, the first expedition against the island cannot be regarded in any other light than a failure. For the second invasion preparations were made commensurate with the importance of the task proposed.
Cæsar having assembled 800 vessels, on board of which were five legions, and 2,000 horsemen of the noblest families in Gaul, set sail, and landed without opposition once more at Ryde. This time there was no enemy to oppose him; for the Britons, terrified at the appearance of this immense armament, had retreated to their natural fastnesses, the forests.
Leaving ten cohorts and 300 horsemen to guard the camp and fleet, under the orders of Quintus Atrius, Cæsar set forward in search of the enemy, whom he discovered, after a march of twelve miles, on the banks of a river, where they had drawn up their chariots and horsemen. Profiting by their elevated position, they accepted, or rather engaged, the combat.
The shock must have been terrible, for we find that it was near night when the battle ended. The Britons, as usual after a defeat, retreated once more to their woods, where it was impossible for the legions of Rome to follow, or the cavalry to act against them.
On the following morning, just as the victorious leader was about to re-commence his march, news arrived from the camp that a violent tempest had seriously damaged the fleet. Many of his vessels were wrecked, and others rendered unfit for service.
Like a prudent general, Cæsar at once returned to the camp, to assure himself of the extent of the injury done to his fleet, and found it more considerable than he imagined. Forty vessels were lost; the rest could be repaired, though not without great labour and time. Every artificer in his army was set to work; others were sent for from the continent; and instructions written to Labienus in Gaul to construct new galleys to replace those which were lost.
The next step was worthy of the genius and reputation of Cæsar. After having repaired his ships, he caused his legions to draw them out of reach of the tide, high up on the shore, and enclosed the whole of them in a fortified camp;—an immense work, when we consider that it was executed in an enemy's country, and the scanty means at his command for such an undertaking.
The gigantic task performed, he set forth once more in search of the confederate Britons.
It would fill a volume to detail, step by step, the progress of the Romans; to describe battle after battle, and treaties which were no sooner made than broken. The success of the invaders increased.
The kingdom of Cassibelan was overrun, and that heroic monarch compelled to submit and sue for peace, through the Comius who had formerly been his captive.
Cæsar, wishing to pass the winter in Gaul, where he feared a rebellion against his authority, granted the request, and after imposing an annual tribute upon Britain, and exacting hostages from the inhabitants, took his departure for the continent.
Cæsar cannot be said to have conquered the island. It is true that, wherever he encountered the natives in battle his armies were victorious; but he made no permanent settlement: and when the state of Britain is considered, the desperate courage of the people, the absence of roads and means of communication, the reasons will appear plain.
In Rome the progress of the invasion was watched with intense anxiety, and more than one classic writer has borne witness to the bravery of the ancient Britons. Cicero, in his letter to his friend Trebatius, then serving in the army, warns him against being surprised by the chariots of the Britons; and, in another portion of his correspondence, the illustrious orator says:—
"I learn there is neither gold nor silver in Britain; try, therefore, to take some chariot of war, and return quickly amongst us."
To Atticus he writes:—
"We are expecting the termination of the war in Britain. We know that there is neither gold nor silver in the island, nor any hope of bringing back plunder, unless it be slaves."
Rome, in fact, gained nothing by the enterprise, Cæsar everything; it enhanced his military reputation, increased his popularity with the people, and earned him the love of his soldiers.
For nearly a century after the invasion of Cæsar, Britain remained in a state of independence. Some of its princes, there is every reason to believe, paid tribute to Rome, but the number must have been few. Augustus several times declared his intention of reducing the island to obedience, but never made any attempt to do so; the empire, he said, was already too large, and he found it convenient to forget Britain.
Caligula afforded the world a pitiful spectacle of madness of power. He assembled an army on the coast of Gaul, and embarked on board the imperial galley, from whence he issued orders to commence the attack against an imaginary enemy. Afterwards he informed his astonished legions that they had conquered the sea, and commanded them to gather up the shells upon the shore, the spoils of their bloodless victory, for which he afterwards decreed himself the honours of a triumph in Rome.
Claudius, his successor, resolved on a regular invasion of the island, and in the forty-third year of the Christian era he dispatched four legions, with their auxiliaries, under the command of Aulus Plautius, an excellent general, who surprised the Britons by the rapidity of his movements. They rallied, however, under their leaders, Togodumnus and Caractacus, two brothers: the latter, by his heroic resistance and dignity in misfortune, acquired a fame imperishable.
The Britons, having drawn the invaders into a marshy part of the country, fell upon them with great fury, and many were destroyed. This news induced Plautius to retreat as far as the right bank of the Thames, and to write to Claudius, inviting him to pass over to the island and conclude the war himself. The emperor accepted the invitation, and took the command of his legions in Britain. He crossed the Thames, and seized upon the fortress of Camalodunum—Colchester or Malden, authorities are divided as to which—receiving in his progress the submission of a number of petty kings and chiefs.
Having reduced a part of the country to the condition of a Roman province, Claudius returned to enjoy the honours of a triumph in Rome. It was celebrated with a degree of unusual magnificence, splendid games, and rejoicings. The emperor mounted the steps of the Capitol on his knees, and decorated his palace with a naval crown, in token of his victory over the sea.
The provinces voted him wreaths; the senate, annual games, a triumphal arch, and the glorious surname of Britannicus. This last honour was accorded to his infant son, whom he was in the habit of bearing in his arms in view of the people, and who was predestined to so tragical a death.
Vespasian, while yet the lieutenant of Aulus Plautius, acquired great glory against the Belges. He conquered the Isle of Wight and the southern portion of the island.
After passing four years on the island, Plautius was recalled to Rome, where the jealousy of the emperor limited the honours decreed to the victorious general to a simple ovation. He was succeeded by Ostorius Scapula, who found, on his arrival, the affairs of his countrymen in the greatest disorder.
The Britons, trusting that a general newly arrived in the island would not enter on a campaign in the beginning of winter, had divided their forces, to plunder and lay waste the territories of such persons as were in alliance with Rome. Ostorius, however, contrary to their expectations, pursued the war with vigour, gave the dispersed bands no time to unite or rally, and commanded the people whom he suspected of disaffection to give up their arms.
As a further precaution, he erected forts on the banks of the Avon and the Severn. The Iceni and the Brigantes finally submitted to the yoke.
The moment appeared favourable to the victorious general to subdue the Silures, a fierce and warlike nation, who, under the guidance of their king, Caractacus, still held out against the Roman arms. Hitherto clemency and force had alike proved unavailing to reduce them to submission, and Ostorius prepared his expedition with a prudence and foresight worthy of the struggle on which the establishment of the supremacy of Rome on the island, in a great measure, depended. He first settled a strong colony of his veteran soldiers at Camalodunum, on the conquered lands, to keep in check the neighbouring tribes, and spread by their example a knowledge of the useful arts. He then set forth at the head of his bravest legions in search of Caractacus, who had retreated from his own states, and transported the war into the country of the Ordovices.
The warlike Briton had assembled under his command all who had vowed an eternal resistance to the invaders, and fortified his position by entrenchments of earth, in imitation of the Roman military works.
In Shropshire, where the great struggle is supposed to have taken place, there is a hill which the inhabitants still call Caer Caradoc. It corresponds exactly with the description which Tacitus has given of the fortifications erected by Caractacus, and answers to the Latin words Castra Caractaci.
This warrior, whose devotion to the liberties of his country merited a better fate, did all that a patriot and a soldier could do to excite the spirit of his countrymen. He reminded the chiefs under his command that the day of battle would be the day of deliverance from a degrading bondage, and at the same time appealed to their patriotism, by reminding them that their ancestors had defeated the attempts of Cæsar.
The address was received with acclamation, and the excited Britons bound themselves by oaths not to shrink from the darts of their enemies.
The cries of rage with which the invaders were received, the resolute bearing of the Silures, astonished the Roman general, who examined with inquietude the river which
Julius Cæsar. (From the large Cameo representing the Apotheosis of Augustus, and known as the Agate de la Sainte Chapelle, preserved in the collection of medals of the Imperial Library, Paris.)
defended the rude entrenchment on one side, the ramparts of earth and stone, not unskilfully thrown up, and the rugged rock, which towered above them, crowned with numberless defenders. His soldiers demanded to be led to the contest, urging that nothing was impossible to true courage; the tribunes held the same language, and Ostorius led on his army to the attack. Under a shower of arrows it crossed the river, and arrived at the foot of the rude entrenchment, but not without suffering severely.
Then was seen the advantage of discipline over untrained courage. The Roman soldiers serried their ranks, and raising their bucklers over their heads, formed with them an impenetrable roof, which securely sheltered them whilst they demolished the earthworks. That once accomplished, the victory was assured. The half naked Britons, with their clubs and arrows, were no match against the well-armed legions of Rome; they retreated slowly, but from the summit of the rocks still poured death upon their enemies till the light troops succeeded in slaying or dispersing them.
The victory of the Romans was complete. The wife and daughter of Caractacus were taken prisoners, and the illustrious chief of the Silures soon afterwards shared a similar destiny. His mother-in-law, Cartismunda, queen of the Brigantes, to whom he had fled for shelter, delivered him in chains to his enemies.
Ostorius sent him and his family to Rome, as the noblest trophies of his conquest.
The fame of Caractacus had penetrated even to Italy. The Roman citizens were anxious to behold the barbarian who had so long braved their power. Although defeated and a captive, the natural greatness of his soul did not abandon him. Tacitus relates that his first remark on beholding the imperial city was surprise that those who possessed such magnificent palaces at home should envy him a poor hovel in Britain.
The British chief was conducted before the Emperor Claudius, who received him seated on his throne, with the Empress Agrippina by his side. The prætorian guard were drawn up in line of battle on either side.
First came the servants of the captive prince; then were borne the spoils of the vanquished Britons; these were followed by the brothers, the wife, and daughter of Caractacus, and last of all Caractacus himself, calm and unsubdued by his misfortunes.
Advancing to the throne, he pronounced the following remarkable discourse, which history has consecrated:—
"If I had had, O Cæsar, in prosperity, a prudence equal to my birth and fortune, I should have entered this city as a friend, and not as a captive; and possibly thou wouldest not have disdained the alliance of a man descended from illustrious ancestors, who gave laws to several nations. My fate this day appears as sad for me as it is glorious for thee. I had horses, soldiers, arms, and treasures; is it surprising that I should regret the loss of them? If it is thy will to command the universe, is it a reason we should voluntarily accept slavery? Had I yielded sooner, thy fortune and my glory would have been less, and oblivion soon have followed my execution. If thou sparest my life, I shall be an eternal monument of thy clemency."
It is impossible not to be struck by the great dignity as well as simplicity of this address. It was complimentary without meanness, and truthful without exaggeration.
To the honour of Claudius, he not only spared the life of his captive, but the lives of his brothers, wife, and daughter, and treated him with all honour. Their chains were removed, and they expressed their thanks, not only to the emperor, but to Agrippina, whose influence is supposed, not without reason, to have been exerted in their favour.
The public life of Caractacus ended with his captivity; for the tradition that he afterwards returned to Britain, and ruled over a portion of the island, rests on so uncertain a foundation as to be unworthy of belief. Had fortune afforded him a wider field for the exercise of his genius, he would have bequeathed a more brilliant, but not a nobler name to history.
The senate, in its pompous harangues, compared the subjection of this formidable chief to that of Syphax by Scipio, and decreed the honours of a triumph to his conqueror, Ostorius.
Ostorius was succeeded in the government of Britain by Avitus Didius Gallus, who, unlike his warlike predecessor, sought to establish the Roman dominion in the island by fomenting internal dissension. He made an alliance with the perfidious mother-in-law of Caractacus, Cartismunda, queen of the Brigantes, whose subjects had revolted. His government lasted but four years, during which period the armies of Rome made but little progress on the isle.
The monster Nero, who succeeded by crime to the throne, assigned the government of Britain to Veranius, who died a year afterwards, in a campaign he had undertaken against the Silures.
His successor, Suetonius Paulinus, proved himself fully equal to the task he had undertaken. Hitherto the Britons had been excited to revolt by the exhortations of the Druids, whose principal sanctuary was in the island of Anglesea, which, up to the period of his government, had preserved its independence, and served as a refuge to the malcontents and vanquished. Of this important spot Suetonius resolved to obtain possession, as the most effectual means of crushing the spirit of resistance still existing amongst the people.
By means of a number of flat-bottomed boats, which he had constructed for the purpose, he crossed the arm of the sea which separates Anglesea from Britain.
Tacitus has left a vivid description of the effect produced upon the Romans on approaching the island: the army of the enemy drawn up like a living rampart on the shore, to oppose their landing; the priestesses, in mournful robes of a sombre colour, rushing wildly along the sands, brandishing their torches and muttering imprecations; the Druids, with their arms extended in malediction. The invaders were appalled; and, but for the exhortations of their leaders, the expedition, in all probability, must have suffered a defeat. Excited by their reproaches, the standard-bearers advanced, and the army, ashamed to desert their eagles, followed them, striking madly with their swords, and crushing all who opposed them. Finally, they succeeded in surrounding the Britons, who perished, with their wives and children, in the fires which the Druids had commanded to be kindled for their hideous sacrifices.
This victory was a terrible blow to the influence of the Druids, who never recovered their power in the island; and its consequences would have been more severely felt, but for an insurrection which shortly afterwards broke out in that part of Britain which had been reduced to the condition of a Roman colony.
The imposts were excessive, and exacted with rigour. Hundreds of distinguished families saw themselves reduced to indigence, and, consequently, to servitude. Their sons were torn from their hearths, and compelled to serve on the continent in the auxiliary cohorts. All these evils, great as they were, might have been borne, had not an outrage been added more infamous than any the insolent invaders had yet ventured to perpetrate; an outrage which filled the hearts of the Britons with fury, and drove them once more to rebellion.
Prasutagus, a king of the nation of the Iceni, had for many years been the faithful ally of Rome; on his death, the better to ensure a portion of his inheritance to his family, he named the emperor and his daughters as his joint heirs. The Roman procurator, however, took possession of the whole in the name of his imperial master, a proceeding which naturally aroused the indignation of Boadicea, the widow of the deceased prince. Being a woman of resolute character, she complained bitterly of the spoliation, and for redress was not only beaten with rods like a slave, but her daughters were dishonoured before her eyes.
On hearing of these indignities, the Iceni flew to arms; the Trinobantes and several other tribes followed their example, and a league was formed between them to recover their lost liberties.
The first object of their attack was the colony of veterans established at Camalodunum, where a temple, dedicated to Claudius, had been raised, the priests of which committed infamous exactions, under the pretence of thus honouring religion.
It was affirmed, as is generally the case on the eve of any great event, that numerous omens preceded the catastrophe. The statue of Victory fell in the temple with its face upon the ground; fearful howlings were heard in the theatre; and it is even pretended that a picture of the colony in ruins had been seen floating in the waters of the Thames.
The report of all these prodigies, which, if they really took place, were doubtless the contrivances of the Druids, froze the veterans with terror, and raised the courage of the Britons to the highest pitch. In the absence of Suetonius, the colonists demanded succour of the procurator, who sent them only 200 men, and those badly armed; and with this feeble reinforcement, the garrison shut themselves up in the temple.
With the cunning which seems peculiar to all semi-barbarous nations, the Britons continued to reassure their enemy of their pacific intentions. The consequence was that instead of raising a rampart and digging a ditch round the building, which they might easily have done, the Romans remained in a state of fancied security, neglecting even to send away their women and children, and such as from age and sickness were unable to bear arms.
Suddenly the mask was thrown off. The insurgents, who had gained sufficient time to collect their forces and mature their plans, fell upon the colony, destroying everything before
Roman Soldiers passing over a Bridge of Boats. From the Antonine Column.
them, and sparing neither sex nor age. After a siege of several days, the temple was taken by assault, and the garrison put to the sword.
Emboldened by their success, the victors marched to meet Petillius Céréalis who, at the head of the ninth legion, was hastening to the assistance of his countrymen. After a bloody battle, in which the Britons massacred all his infantry, the Roman lieutenant was compelled to seek refuge with his cavalry in the camp.
Terrified at the disaster which his avarice and cruelty had caused, the procurator, Cato Decianus, fled to Gaul, followed by the maledictions of the inhabitants of the province on which he had brought so many evils.
Whilst engaged in the subjugation of the natives of Wales, Suetonius Paulinus received intelligence of the revolt of the Britons against the colonies of the eastern parts of the island. Immediately he sat out on his march for London (Tacitus, "An.," lib. xiv.) This is the first mention which we have in history of this city by the title of Londinum—a city destined, in after years, to become the chief centre of political power and commercial enterprise in Europe; to rival, if not to eclipse, the most famous cities of antiquity in splendour and in influence. Whether London owes its origin to the Romans or the Britons, has long been a disputed, and still remains an unsettled, question. Geffrey of Monmouth, a Welsh historian, gives an account of its foundation, and the origin of its name, which, though treated as a mere superstition by Maitland, is alike interesting and ingenious. He tells us that Brutus formed the design of building a city in Britain, and with this object had a careful survey of the kingdom made, and at last fixed on a spot of ground on the banks of the Thames as the most suitable for his purpose. There he erected a city which was long known by the dignified title of New Troy. That name became subsequently corrupted into Trinovant, and in later days, when Lud, the brother of Cassivellaun, obtained the government, he strongly walled and fortified the city, and changed its name to Caer Lud, or Lud's Town. The subsequent change to London was of course easy. Maitland, however, rejects this story as absurd, and denies the existence of such a city in the days of Cæsar. In justification of this view he very fairly urges the fact that Cæsar makes no mention of any such city, although he is most minute and accurate in his enumeration of the places of importance, camps, fortifications, and towns in Gaul. Moreover, on the banks of the Thames Cæsar's troops had one of their most desperate encounters, forcing the passage of that river, and putting to the route the troops of Cassivellaun. Now, had London been in existence at this time, the defeated forces of Cassivellaun would have retreated thither, or at all events have made the attempt. In either case we should expect some mention of the fact by 
The Romans leaving London. (See p. 14.)
It was not long before the storm burst upon the wretched inhabitants, whom the insurgents massacred without pity or remorse, although the majority of them consisted of their own countrymen, against whom their rage appeared quite as much excited as against the Romans, on account of their submission to the common enemy.
Seventy thousand are computed to have perished in the slaughter.
Never before had such an indiscriminate destruction been witnessed in the island. Tacitus, in speaking of the Britons, says:—
"They would neither take the vanquished prisoners, sell them, nor ransom their lives and liberties; but hastened to massacre, torture, and crucify them, as if to avenge themselves beforehand for the cruel punishments which the future had in store for them."
Suetonius, uniting the fourteenth legion, the auxiliaries of the twenty-first, and the garrisons of the neighbouring towns, soon found himself at the head of 10,000 men; and with such an army no longer hesitated to meet the enemy, before whom he had hitherto deemed it advisable to retreat. With great skill, he took up his position at the entrance of a narrow defile, his infantry in the centre, the cavalry forming the wings.
The Britons, a countless multitude, advanced to battle without order and discipline, animated by the desire of vengeance and the hope of recovering their liberty.
Before the struggle commenced, a chariot was seen, drawn slowly through their ranks; in it was a female of tall stature and dignified bearing, enveloped in the folds of a long mantle, a chain of gold round her waist, and her long hair floating to the ground. It was the outraged Boadicea, who, accompanied by her daughters, appealed to the courage of her countrymen.
"The Britons," she cried, "are accustomed to fight under the command of a woman; there is no question now of avenging so many illustrious ancestors from whom I am descended, my kingdom, or my plundered treasures. Avenge me as a simple woman—as one of your own class. Avenge my liberty outraged; my body torn by the scourge; and the innocence of my daughters dishonoured! The Romans respect neither the age of our old men nor the chastity of our children; their avarice is insatiable. Are not our persons taxed?—do we not pay even for the permission to bear our heads? Nor is that all; the tax must be paid for those who cease to live. It was reserved for the execrable tyranny of the Romans," she added, "to raise a revenue from the dead. But there are just gods—avenging gods. A legion that dared oppose us has perished; the rest of the Romans conceal themselves, or already think of flight. They cannot hear without trembling the cries of so many thousand men; how, then, will they support the shock of your blows? Consider your countless battalions, reflect on the motives of this war, and you will understand that the day has arrived to vanquish or die. Such will—shall be the fate of one woman; let men live slaves if they will." (Tacitus, Annal xiv.)
Animated by these inspiring words, the recollection of their injuries, and the blood they had already shed, the Britons commenced the combat. The legion, with their eyes fixed upon their chief, waited the signal. It was given, and they advanced in a triangular battalion; the auxiliaries followed the impetuous movement, and the squadrons charged with their lances in rest. Nothing could resist that fearful shock. The immense multitude was put to flight, but the chariots containing their wives and children, who had followed to be spectators of their victory, barred the way. The victors spared neither women, children, nor animals. The carnage was fearful: 80,000 Britons remained upon the plain.
Boadicea, the witness and victim of this sad defeat, kept the promise she had made—not to fall into the power of the Romans—but ended her life by poison.
This victory re-established the reputation of the Roman arms; but it was not permitted to Suetonius to complete the task he had begun; he was shortly afterwards recalled to Rome, to answer charges brought against him by his enemies, and, although acquitted, lost the favour of a prince in whose reign no man of celebrity was spared.
Suetonius had the honour of training in the art of war the illustrious Agricola.
The first three successors of Suetonius in Britain were Petronius Turpilianus, Trebellius Maximus, and Vettius Bolanus; their government did not advance the empire, then divided between Galba and Otho, and afterwards between Otho and Vitellius.
During the reign of the last prince a civil war broke out among the Brigantes, whose queen, Cartismunda, proud of the alliance and support she received from Rome as the recompense of her treachery in delivering Caractacus into its hands, had given way to her lascivious passions. According to Tacitus, she expelled her husband Venusius from her throne and bed, and raised to his place his esquire Vellocate. This crime shook her authority; the people declared themselves in favour of the outraged husband, whose rival was supported only by the adulterous passion of the queen and the cruelties which he exercised.
The queen, seeing her throne in peril, called the Romans to her aid. They marched to her succour, and succeeded in delivering her from the hands of her indignant subjects, but Venusius remained master of her kingdom, and the Romans had the weight of another war to sustain.
Such was the state of Britain when Vespasian, having conquered his rival Vitellius, succeeded to the throne.
The new emperor entrusted the government of the island to an experienced general named Petilius Cereales, who partially subdued the Brigantes, and was pushing the war with energy when his master recalled him.
His successor was Julius Frontinus, who reduced the Silures to obedience.
But it was reserved to another general to achieve the conquest of a proud and warlike nation, and to render it durable by the qualities of justice and moderation. The great man who gave this useful lesson to the world was Agricola, named governor of Britain in the year 78 of the Christian era. He had already visited the island, having served in the army as tribune, under the command of Suetonius Paulinus, who esteemed and treated him as a friend.
His first step was to repress the revolt of the Ordovices, whom he punished with rigour; he next renewed the attack on the island of Anglesea, which he took, owing to the courage of his German auxiliaries, who, not having vessels at their command, swam over the arm of the sea which divides it from Britain.
In the following campaign he extended the limits of the Roman government to the Tay, leaving strong garrisons on all the important points.
In his fourth campaign, Agricola crossed the Forth to the southern frontier of Caledonia, or Scotland, and erected, to repress the invasion of the warlike inhabitants, a line of fortifications between the Forth and the Clyde.
But it is as an administrator or civil governor that Agricola chiefly merits our praise. He lessened, as much as possible, the tribute levied on the vanquished Britons by an equitable adjustment, suppressed the most onerous monopolies, and multiplied the means of transport and commerce.
Having succeeded in gaining the good opinion of the people he was called to rule over by his valour and equity, the governor next tried to keep them peaceable by inculcating a taste for the arts and pleasures. He encouraged the erection of temples and forums, aided all public works by grants from the treasury, and caused the sons of the principal chiefs and princes to be instructed in the sciences. Gradually those who had disdained the language of the conquerors devoted themselves to its attainment. They assumed the toga, and affected the tastes, and in too many instances the vices, of their masters.
Titus, who had succeeded to the throne of his father, Vespasian, reigned but two years, and left the empire to the ferocious Domitian, who, like most suspicious natures, felt jealous lest any other name should become greater than his own. He did not venture, however, to recall Agricola, who was permitted to pursue his career of glory, and, in the fifth year of his government, advanced with his legions to the west, as far as the coast opposite to Ireland.
A statesman, administrator, and soldier, like the illustrious pupil of Suetonius, must have comprehended the advantage of conquering the sister island; the facilities which it would afford to the increasing commerce between Spain, Gaul, and Britain: he renounced, however, the enterprise from some unknown reason, and Ireland, for nearly a thousand years longer, preserved her independence.
The hostilities which were continually breaking out between the Maætæ and the Caledonians drew Agricola to the north of Britain. In his first campaign against them, which commenced in the sixth year of his government, the Romans experienced a severe check, as the enemy nearly forced their camp, and were only repulsed after causing considerable damage.
In the seventh and last year of his residence on the island, Agricola made his great attempt to subdue the ferocious nations, and his preparations were worthy his great military reputation and the magnitude of the task he had undertaken. He joined to his legions and auxiliaries from the continent, cohorts of Britons, drawn from the southern portion of the island; and supplied his army by means of a numerous fleet, which sailed along the coast.
The Romans advanced without encountering any serious obstacle as far as the Grampians, where the Caledonians, under the celebrated chief Galgacus, were drawn up to oppose them, 30,000 strong. The first ranks, consisting of the bravest of the tribes, occupied the level plain; the next and secondary ones covered the sides of the mountain, rising in half-circles one above another, as in a vast amphitheatre.
Tacitus has recorded the harangue of the leader of the Caledonians; it is bold, energetic, and worthy of the chief of a nation which—whatever its other defects—was, at least, impressed with an indomitable love of freedom and undoubted courage.
"We have no other resource but to conquer," said Galgacus; "and that is my principal hope; for battle, the glorious choice of brave men, is here the only safety for cowards. Behind us is the ocean and the Roman fleet; before us the Romans—brigands, devastators of the world, who, when they can no longer find land to ravage, search the seas. Neither the east nor the west have glutted their avarice, for they alone of all mankind covet alike the treasure of the rich and the dernier of the poor. To take, massacre, and pillage, the Romans call to govern; and when they make a desert, they say, 'Peace is established.' Our sons are carried off to serve in distant countries; our wives and sisters, if they escape the brutality of the enemy, are dishonoured by those who falsely call themselves our friends and guests; our fortunes are consumed in tributes, our food in supplies for their armies; our arms and bodies are wasted by blows and outrages whilst fortifying for them our marshes and lands.
"Courage! you who love glory, and you who hold to life. The Trinobantes, under a woman, burnt a colony and carried a Roman camp; and, if they had not slumbered in success, would have broken their yoke. We, who still are unshaken, unsubdued, and free, shall we not show on the first encounter what kind of men are the Caledonians?
"The Romans triumph by our discords; they render the vices of their enemies subservient to their advantage and the glory of their armies, who, formed by a mixture of so many nations, are kept together only by success, and will be dispersed by reverse. It is fear, it is terror—feeble bonds—which keep together these Gauls, Germans, and, I am ashamed to say, these Britons, who lend their blood to foreign dominion; these bonds once broken, and those who cease to fear will begin to hate. All the excitements to victory are here: no wife influences the courage of the Romans, no father will reproach their flight; feeble in number and ignorant of the country, they only behold the sea, and skies, and unknown forests, in the midst of which, surrounded and enclosed, they are delivered to us by the gods.
"March, then, to battle, and think of your fathers and children!"
The Caledonians received these soul-inspiring words—which have been rendered nearly word for word from the Roman historian—with tumultuous clamours of applause; their excitement was still further increased by the songs of the bards and the exhortations of the Druids.
At the sight of the Caledonians, it became difficult to keep the Romans in the entrenchments, and Agricola, seeing their impatience for battle, exhorted them to conquest.
"Defeat itself," he said, "will not be without glory; but you will not yield. The bravest of the Britons have been already overcome; those who remain are cowardly and timid, as you behold on the heights, which you will illustrate by a memorable victory. Put an end," he concluded, "to so many expeditions, and add another great day to fifty years of triumph!"
At these words the ardour of his soldiers could no longer be repressed. They quitted the camp, and their brave leader ranged them in order of battle: the auxiliaries on foot, to the number of 8,000, in the centre; 3,000 horsemen formed the wings; the legions being held in reserve.
The first line of the Caledonians descended to the plain, which trembled beneath the galloping of the horses and the rolling of the war-chariots. Agricola, seeing the superiority of the enemy in point of numbers, deployed his ranks, resolved neither to fly nor yield.
Favoured by their position, the barbarians had the advantage as long as they fought at a distance with javelins and arrows; which became useless, however, when, the Roman general having commanded the auxiliaries to engage man to man, they rushed to the encounter with their long sharp swords; another body assailed the rocks, which they carried by assault, and the Caledonians retreated behind their horsemen and chariots; whilst the Roman cavalry, falling on the confused mass, completed the rout.
The plain soon became one wide scene of carnage; 10,000 Caledonians perished; whilst their enemy lost only 360 men.
The victors passed the night in drunkenness and pillage; whilst the vanquished, men and women, wandered about the country, yielding to despair. In their rage they destroyed their habitations, to prevent their being plundered by the Romans.
Agricola rendered an account of his victory to the emperor, in terms remarkable for modesty and simplicity. The jealous Domitian received his letter with apparent joy, but secret wrath: with his usual cunning, however, he dissembled his real sentiments till time had weakened the enthusiasm of the people and the favour of the army for the man he hated. Gradually a report gained ground that the victorious general was to be recalled from the scene of his triumphs, to take the command in Syria, and Domitian demanded for him the honours of a triumph.
The victor dared not, however, present himself to the acclamations of the people, for fear of exciting the jealousy of his imperial master. He entered Rome privately, and by night, and presented himself before the tyrant, who received him coldly and in silence. He soon became confounded with the crowd of courtiers, and only escaped from the peril of his glory by appearing himself to forget it.
Domitian reigned some years after his return, and the fury with which he persecuted Salustius Lucullus, one of the successors of Agricola, sufficiently proved the violence he had done to his cruel nature in sparing the life of the latter.
Salustius had had the temerity to give his name to a new kind of lance, which he had, in all probability, invented. The monster looked upon this little harmless piece of vanity as an offence, and put him to death.
Little is known of the state of Britain from Domitian to Adrian, when many of the nations who had been subject to the yoke of Rome began to show signs of impatience, and all the cares of the new emperor were to confirm the peace of the world. He re-established the system of Augustus, abandoned the conquests of Trajan, and limited the empire in the east to the Euphrates. He visited the provinces, and arrived at last in Britain, where he corrected many abuses, and built the celebrated wall which bore his name, in order to repress the incursions of the Caledonians; it extended upwards of eighty miles, from the mouth of the Tyne to the Irish Sea.
Rome abandoned without a struggle the country included between the wall of Adrian and that of Agricola, an extent of about 100 miles; a portion of it, however, was regained under Antoninus Pius, the adopted son and successor of Adrian.
During the thirty years which succeeded, the empire experienced the extreme vicissitudes to which all despotic empires are liable, in passing from the sceptre of the wise and good Marcus Aurelius into the hands of the infamous Commodus. The glory of Rome during the reign of this execrable monster had no other asylum than in her armies, which caused her frontiers to be respected by the barbarians, and crushed the several attempts at revolt in Germany, Dacia, and Britain.
The Caledonians, who had recovered from the cruel defeat they had suffered under Agricola, made a successful irruption into the north of the island, where they surprised and cut to pieces a body of Roman troops.
The peril of the province became extreme.
Commodus, to avoid the disgrace of losing it, conferred the government of the island upon Ulpius Marcellus, a general worthy of the antique days of Rome, being a sober man, just, and of undaunted courage. He obtained a signal victory over the Caledonians, and re-established peace. He was soon afterwards recalled.
He was succeeded by Perennis, a favourite of Commodus, who by his arbitrary, tyrannical conduct so excited the hatred of his legions, that they forgot their long habits of discipline and slavish obedience to the emperor.
The soldiers delegated 1,500 of their number to lay their complaints before the imperial throne. This numerous deputation passed peaceably through Gaul and Italy, and Commodus himself set forward to meet it. He listened to their complaints, and, led by his terrors rather than the love of justice, abandoned their general to the vengeance of his rebellious troops.
Perennis was scourged to death by them with rods.
The legions in Britain, emboldened by their success, demanded and obtained from the feeble hands of their master a general of obscure origin but undoubted merit, Publius Helvius Pertinax, who attempted to restore discipline in their ranks, but only partially succeeded. The habit of obedience was broken, and the same troops who had so clamorously demanded his appointment soon afterwards solicited his recall.
He returned to fill a civil employment in Rome, where fortune held in store for him supreme grandeur and a cruel fall.
Decimus Clodius Albinus, who succeeded him, was successful not only in reducing the army to obedience, but in obtaining their affection. He administered the province so well that the emperor, in a fit of gratitude, conferred on him the title of Cæsar; an honour which, in all probability, would very soon have been repented of, or led to his disgrace, had not a revolution in the palace removed Commodus from the throne, and raised Pertinax in his stead.
The new reign lasted but three months; Pertinax fell a victim to his attempt to reform the abuses which were corroding the very heart of the empire. He was massacred by the Pretorian guards.
The election of his successor shows to how fearful a state Rome had degenerated. The empire was put up to auction and sold, like common merchandise, to the highest bidder. Didius Julianus by his great wealth purchased the empire: though bought by gold, it could not be retained by the same means. Septimus Severus no sooner heard of the death of Pertinax than he hastened to Rome, at the head of his legions, and the crime was quickly avenged by the death of the assassins, and that of the feeble prince whom they had placed upon the throne.
After the death of Albinus, who, driven to extremities by the secret practices against his life, had marched into Gaul, and was defeated at Lyons, Severus, at an advanced age, visited Britain, and defeated the Caledonians, whom he compelled to sue for peace. It was whilst engaged in this memorable expedition that his son, Caracalla, tried to poison him.
At the termination of the war, the conqueror made York his residence, and employed his army in constructing the gigantic wall whose remains still bear his name. It was seventy-eight miles long, and ran parallel with the remains of the one built by Adrian; its height, twelve feet, without comprising the parapet; its width, eight feet; and it was still further strengthened by a succession of towers and fortresses. The wall was completed in 210 of the Christian era.
Falling into a severe sickness, his unworthy son took occasion to seduce the allegiance of a portion of the army, who proclaimed him emperor. The aged prince was carried to his tribunal, before which he compelled the usurper, his tribunes and centurions, to appear: the guilty son prostrated himself, and demanded pardon.
"What!" exclaimed his father, in a tone of bitter irony, "have you yet to learn that it is the head and not the feet which govern?" The reproach was the more bitter as the disease from which the speaker was dying had settled in his feet, and rendered him incapable either of mounting on horseback or walking.
Shortly afterwards he expired at York.
Septimus Severus died the 4th of April, 211, after a reign of eighteen years: his last words were, "I received the republic divided and weak at every point; I leave it at peace and consolidated, even in Britain: old and disabled in my legs, I bequeath to my sons a powerful empire, if they are prudent; if not, a feeble one."
During the third century, the empire was agitated by numerous competitions for the purple, which were somewhat appeased on the accession of Diocletian. Britain afforded to these pretenders not only an asylum, but the means of advocating their claims to the purple. One of these, Carausius, was only got rid of by assassination.
The murderer, Allectus, attempted to succeed him, and maintained himself in the island till defeated by Constantius, who had been elevated to the rank of Cæsar: thus Britain was once more united to the empire.
The victor made himself loved by the Britons, by his equitable and wise administration, and continued to reside amongst them till the abdication of Diocletian and Maximian elevated him to the imperial throne.
At his death, which occurred in York, in 306, he recommended to the army, who were devoted to him, his son, the celebrated Constantine, who was immediately saluted emperor and Augustus.
The tradition that St. Paul and St. Peter preached the gospel in the island found, at one period, general credence. It must be looked upon with extreme suspicion, there not being the slightest historical evidence to support it, and the probabilities highly against it; still, it is certain that, at a very early age, Christianity was introduced amongst us. Many of the Romans, who had received the new religion and fled from the persecutions of Claudius and Nero, found refuge in Britain, where the imperial edicts were less rigorously obeyed, till the persecution of Diocletian, when the churches throughout the empire were ordered to be closed, and the refusal of the new sect to offer sacrifice to the gods of Rome punished with death.
Much as Constantius condemned, he dared not annul the impious mandate he had received. Ascending his tribunal, before which the principal officers, both of his army and household, had been summoned, he read aloud the edict, and added that those who professed the new faith must decide on abandoning either their faith or their employments. Many, doubtless, chose the former alternative; since we are told that the prince, in great indignation, dismissed the apostates from his service, observing that it was impossible for him to trust those who had denied their convictions. His lieutenants, however, were less scrupulous, and Christian blood, no doubt, was shed to maintain the state religion of the empire.
Alban, the proto-martyr—as the latter designation implies—was the first who suffered; and the names of Julius and Aaron, citizens of Caerleon, upon the Usk, have also been handed down to posterity as two of the earliest victims.
On the accession of Constantine to the throne, religious toleration was restored throughout the empire.
Christianity now made rapid progress in the island. A hierarchy became established, and at the Council of Arles, in 314, three English bishops assisted—those of York, London, and Camalodunum.
After the death of Constantine, we see two people disappear, in name at least, from the page of history—the Maætæ and the Caledonians, who were replaced by the Picts and the Scots. There is every reason to believe that the warlike nation, the Caledonians—who so long resisted the Romans—and the Picts are the same race; the last name being derived from the Gaelic word pict-ich, which signifies "plunderers."
The Scots had a widely different origin: they originally came over from Ireland, where they inhabited the eastern coasts, settled in the neighbourhood of Loch Lomond, and made an alliance with the nearest tribes, for the purpose of ravaging the possessions of the Britons.
They were severely chastised by Theodosius, who visited Britain in 343. He succeeded in expelling them from the Roman provinces and driving them back to their wild retreats.
Maximus, who afterwards assumed the title of Augustus, while in Britain, carried on the war against the Picts and Scots with unrelenting severity; his ambition, however, led him to attempt the conquest of the whole western empire, in which he failed, and was beheaded at Aquileia. His army, composed in a great majority of Britons, never returned to their native country, which consequently was left in a great measure defenceless. So favourable an occasion did not escape the vigilance of the Picts and Scots, who made successive inroads in the island, and returned to their mountain fastnesses laden with plunder.
The power of Rome was now shaken by the irruption of barbarians of various denominations, who, issuing from the east and north, depopulated her fairest provinces. Assailed at so many points at once, it seemed as if the nations of the earth had been let loose to uproot her supremacy, and break the shackles which for so many ages had fettered the greater part of the world. The Goths, Vandals, and Alans, led by Alaric, crossing the Julian Alps, swept like a torrent over the fertile plains of Italy. The German tribes devastated Gaul, and the Roman legions in Britain, deprived of all communication with the Emperor Honorius, determined on electing an emperor for themselves.
The first whom they selected for the purple was Marcus, whom his soldiers, very soon after elevating him to the imperial dignity, put to death: after him an adventurer named Constantine, who paid for his short-lived dignity with his life.
The island had for some time been in this distracted state, when the Britons, who had not ceased to regret the loss of their freedom, deeming the occasion favourable, rose in arms, deposed the Roman magistrates, and proclaimed their independence; and afterwards succeeded in driving the Picts and Scots back to their own country.
When the Emperor Honorius heard of this revolution, he wrote to the states of Britain, to say that they must provide for their safety, and govern themselves; by which concession the rule of Rome in the island was looked on as at an end.
The Britons, at various periods afterwards, demanded the assistance of the empire against their terrible enemies, the Picts, who still continued to harass them; but no aid of any consequence was accorded.
How frequently do we read, in the history of the world, of a nation urged by an irresistible, though unknown principle, to pursue the path of conquest, not for their own advantage, but for the ultimate benefit of the people whom they subject. Such was the result of the Roman invasion of Britain, which proved neither profitable nor advantageous to the conquerors.
Appianus of Alexandria, who flourished A.D. 123, wrote a history of all the nations which Rome had subdued, in twenty-four books; he says: "The Romans have penetrated into Britain, and taken possession of the greater and better part of the island; but they do not desire the rest, because that which they already possess is not of the slightest benefit to them."
The historian was right, for, despite the taxes, the produce of the mines, and the exportation of corn, the island could never have been a source of great profit to the victors; notwithstanding which we trace them, urged by a resistless combination of events, progressing step by step, till the greater part of the country was subdued. Fortunately, they sowed the seeds of a civilisation more endurable than their dominion.
For nearly a century, the portion of Britain which had submitted to their yoke formed but a single province; it was first separated into two during the reign of the Emperor Severus. This division was afterwards extended to five:—
1st. Flavia Cæsariensis, which consisted of the western portion of the island.
2nd. Britannia Prima, the country between the Thames and the Humber.
3rd. Britannia Secunda, lying between the Severn and the sea, now known by the name of Wales.
4th. Maxima Cæsariensis, lying to the north of the two preceding ones, extending to the Wall of Severus, between the Tyne and the Solway.
5th. Valentia, comprising the lands from the Wall of Severus to the Forth and Clyde.
The conquests of Agricola, which extended to the Grampians, although dignified by the rank of a province under the name of Vespasiana, remained but a short time in the possession of the Romans.
The limits of the Roman provinces in the island have given rise to many discussions amongst the learned. We have taken them as laid down by Richard of Cirencester, De Situ Britain. Each of these provinces had a separate ruler, subject to the governor-general of Britain, who was named by the emperor under the title of prefect. He exercised all but sovereign authority, and united in his hands both the military and judicial power. Under him was a procurator, or questor, who levied the taxes, and administered the revenues of the island.
The principal sources of revenue were a poll tax, a tax on funerals and inheritances, on slaves, on all public sales, and an impost upon cattle and agricultural produce.
The tax upon cattle, which was called scriptura, from the collectors visiting the pastures and writing down lists of the number and kind which each estate nourished, was particularly oppressive to the Britons, and one of the most frequent causes of revolt.
In addition to these burdens, the Romans levied imposts upon merchandise, either imported or exported, which formed a considerable item in their revenue, the commerce between the empire and Britain having been greatly extended. Agriculture also made immense progress in the island, in which cities of considerable importance were built.
Of these the most important, in a commercial point of view, were Clausentum and London.
In the second century, Britain contained upwards of a hundred cities; the principal were London, Colchester, Bath, Gloucester, Caerleon, Chester, Lincoln, and Chesterfield; most of them built upon lands which the emperors had bestowed upon the veterans of those legions whose descendants formed the greater part of the population. The larger cities, about ten in number, enjoyed the jus Latii, which conferred, amongst other privileges, the right of electing their magistrates. The inferior ones, called stipendiaries, paid tribute to the emperor, and were governed by officers under the authority of the prefect.
Thus we perceive that Britain owed to Rome, not only her first steps in the path of civilisation, but her municipal government, a code of written laws, judges to interpret them, and civil instead of priestly tribunals; whilst, at the same time, her arts and refinements gradually wrought a change in the savage but warlike character of its inhabitants, who, previous to their invasion, lived in a state of barbarism, inhabiting wretched huts, built in the rudest form. Their progress in architecture must have been rapid.