Roman Britain: Boudica's Rebellion (ca AD 60)

The Death of Prasutagus – The Scourging of a Queen – The Burning of Camulodunum – The Battle of Camulodunum – The Sacking of Londinium & Verulamium – The Battle of Watling Street – The Death of Boudica

Some two decades after Claudius’ victorious march into Camulodunum, a relative peace had settled over Roman Britain—but it would be a peace broken by a torrent of bloodshed. Those native tribes that hadn’t been conquered by Rome had submitted to the Empire, and the Iceni tribe located in modern Norfolk was one of these. In AD 60 the Iceni ruler, Prasutagus, ruled as an ally of Rome (the Iceni had been Roman allies since Claudius’ invasion in AD 63). At his death he left his kingdom to his daughters and to the Roman emperor. Rome ignored his will, however, and annexed his kingdom (“conquering” it by diplomacy and stripping away its independence). As to the nature of this annexation, classical historians differ. Tacitus tells us that the Romans flogged Prasutagus’ wife, Boudica, and raped her two daughters before confiscating the estates of Iceni nobles. Cassius Dio, however, doesn’t mention flogging nor rape; Rome, he says, confiscated imperial donations to the Iceni while Seneca, a Roman financier and philosopher, called in the loans he’d forced on the Britons. Whatever the catalyst, the result was the same: Prasutagus’ wife, Boudica, rebelled against the Romans who had seized her late husband’s kingdom.

At the time Paulinus, the Roman governor of Britain, was fighting against the Druid stronghold in Anglesey. Because the main bulk of his forces were to the north, the Roman garrisons throughout southern Britain weren’t prepared to snuff out Boudica’s rebellion. Inspired by Arminius, the barbarian prince who had driven the Romans out of Germany in AD 9, and by the British natives who had expelled Caesar from British shores in the last century BC, Boudica rallied the Iceni and Trinovantes to her side. They marched on Camulodunum, now a Roman colony (where discharged Roman soldiers lived). This old Trinovante capital now sported a temple to the deceased Emperor Claudius, and the natives despised the occupiers who mistreated the locals and who had built Claudius’ temple at their expense. Tacitus tells us, “It was against the veterans that [the rebels’] hatred was most intense. For these new settlers in the colony of Camulodunum drove people out of their houses, ejected them from their farms, [and] called them captives and slaves…”

The Battle of Camulodonum

As the native troops came into sight of the city, the Roman garrison called for help from the procurator, Catus Decianus. Decianus, perhaps underestimating the size of the rebel force, only sent two hundred poorly-trained auxiliary troops. They couldn’t stand against Boudica’s forces, and Boudica laid siege to Camulodunum. Word of the siege reached Petillius Cerialis, the commander of the Ninth Legion. The Ninth was spread out across a network of small forts, and on short notice the commander couldn’t bring his entire legion together. Acting in the small window of time he had, he was able to muster about 2500 men to try and relieve the besieged colony. His troops likely consisted of his first cohort, maybe two others, some auxiliary infantry, and a unit of about 500 cavalry. He set out from his HQ in Lindum Colonia (modern Lincoln) and marched about 75 miles in three days. By the time they arrived, it was evident that they were too late: the city had been methodically and brutally razed to the ground, pillars of smoke choked the sky, and the last survivors of the colony, who had taken refuge in the Temple of Claudius for two days, had been massacred in the temple. Spurred on my a desire for not only glory but also vengeance, Cerialis pushed his troops against the sacked city—and suffered a crushing defeat. Boudica’s blood-drunk forces overwhelmed his paltry number of infantry, massacring them. Cerialis and a handful of his cavalry escaped on horseback.

The Sacking of Verulamium

Paulinus had just decimated the Druids and their followers at Anglesey when he heard of the revolt. He hurried his troops to Londinium (modern London), which was now not even twenty years old. Londinium had been founded in AD 43 where the Roman troops had first crossed the Thames, and since then it had evolved into a thriving commercial hub for Roman Britain. Boudica had abandoned the smoldering ruins of Camulodunum and was marching towards Londinium. Lacking numbers to defend the city against Boudica’s 100,000 rebels, Paulinus ordered a city-wide evacuation. Panic gripped the city as people fled either to the sea or into the province’s interior, and anyone who remained in the city when Boudica arrived was put to the sword. Boudica sacked the city and turned her teeth against another Roman town, Verulamium (modern St. Albans). Between the three cities she sacked, around 70-80,000 Romans and British were killed. She showed no mercy: prisoners were burned alive, hung the dead on gibbets as signs to passerby, and even resorted to crucifixion—a method of execution they learned from the Romans. Cassius Dio tells us that the noblest women were impaled on spikes and had their breasts cut off and sewn into their mouths “to the accompaniment of sacrifices, banquets, and wanton behavior” in sacred places. Boudica preferred the groves of Andraste, a British goddess of victory.

While Boudica ravaged Verulamium, Paulinus regrouped his forces in the West Midlands. His forces consisted of the Fourteenth Legion, detachments of the Twentieth, and numerous auxiliaries. The prefect of the Second Legion, near Exeter, ignored Paulinus’ call for troops. The Ninth, having been routed by Boudica at the Battle of Camulodunum, was in no shape to lend a helping hand. Paulinus’ troops probably numbered around 10,000 men. Though a large number, they were vastly outnumbered by Boudica’s forces. Ancient sources place her numbers around 230,000 warriors, but this is doubtlessly exaggerated and may include her camp followers (e.g. women and children, cooks, etc.). Nevertheless Boudica’s troops greatly outnumbered those of Paulinus, but hers were untrained and undisciplined whereas the Romans were disciplined professionals with superior equipment. Paulinus took a stand along a Roman road (now known as Watling Street), placing his troops in a defile with woods behind him to prevent Britons taking their rear, gorges on the sides to prevent flanking maneuvers, and a wide plain ahead of them that promised open combat (the Britons excelled at guerrilla tactics, but the Romans were best in set-piece battles). Paulinus placed his legionaries in the center with the auxiliaries on the flanks and cavalry on the wings. Cassius Dio reports that if they were lined one deep, they still wouldn’t have extended the length of Boudica’s line; Paulinus compensated for this by placing his troops in such a way that the enemy would be funneled against him, so that Boudica could only send equal numbers against the entrenched Roman troops. The upcoming battle promised to be a tit-for-tat slugfest.

Boudica Rallies her Troops

Boudica gathered her forces in the valley before the Romans. She rode in a chariot, her daughters flanking her, and she exhorted the Britons to give the Romans hell. Tacitus records her inspiring speech, though whether he invented it for dramatic flair is unknown. Tacitus tells us that she presented herself not as a queen stripped of her kingdom but as a Briton avenging her lost freedom, her lashed body, and her ravaged daughters. “But now… it is not as a woman descended from noble ancestry, but as one of the people that I am avenging lost freedom, my scourged body, the outraged chastity of my daughters. Roman lust has gone so far that not our very persons, nor even age or virginity, are left unpolluted. But heaven is on the side of a righteous vengeance; a legion which dared to fight has perished; the rest are hiding themselves in their camp, or are thinking anxiously of flight. They will not sustain even the din and the shout of so many thousands, much less our charge and our blows. If you weigh well the strength of the armies, and the causes of the war, you will see that in this battle you must conquer or die. This is a woman’s resolve; as for men, they may live and be slaves.”

Paulinus gave his own speech to his troops, but his was succinct and straightforward absent dramatic flair. The bluntness of Paulinus’ speech may imply a kernel of truth in it; after all, Gnaeus Julius Agricola, who would make a name for himself in the next couple decades, was a relative of Tacitus, and at the time of the battle, he served on Paulinus’ staff and could have reported it. According to Tacitus, Paulinus exhorted his soldiers, saying, “Ignore the racket made by these savages. There are more women than men in their ranks. They are not soldiers—they’re not even properly equipped. We’ve beaten them before and when they see our weapons and feel our spirit, they’ll crack. Stick together. Throw the javelins, then push forward: knock them down with your shields and finish them off with your swords. Forget about plunder. Just win and you’ll have everything.”

The Battle of Watling Street

The Roman lines girded themselves for battle, and the Britons gave a bloodcurdling war cry and surged forward. The Romans gritted their teeth and stood their ground. As the first wave of Britons came into range of their pila (or heavy javelins), they began the slaughter. Each legionary carried two pila that could be hurled into the ranks of the oncoming enemy. Pila were designed to bent when they hit shield, making it all but impossible for enemies to pull the spearheads from their shields—making the shields unwieldy and unusable. Shields had to be discarded, leaving the Britons unguarded; and because shafts broke, the enemy couldn’t reuse the javelins as spears against the Romans. Two volleys of thousands of pila crashed into the enemy ranks, decimating them, and the second wave had to clamber over the broken bodies of the first. The second wave smashed into the Roman lines, and the legionaries fought with grim skill. Their short swords were perfect for close quarter combat, and they made quick work of the untrained Britons. The Romans pressed against the attack, advancing in a wedge formation. The cavalry, with their lances extended, entered the fray on the wings. Seeing that they were outmatched even against inferior numbers, the Britons panicked and broke—but they were ensnared, and of their own doing. They had placed their families and camp followers in a crescent of wagons around the far edge of the battlefield, impeding their own retreat. The Romans gave chase, slaughtering all they came across.

Tacitus reports that 80,000 Britons died in the Battle of Watling Street, compared to a mere 400 Romans. His numbers are likely exaggerated, but the Britons nevertheless suffered overwhelming losses and dispersed in the wake of their tragic defeat. Boudica either killed herself to avoid capture or died of an illness (Tacitus and Dio differ), and hearing news of the Roman victory, Postumus, the prefect of the Second Legion who had refused to come out and help Paulinus, was overcome with shame for not taking part and fell on his own sword. Nero had considered withdrawing Roman legions from Britain, but reports of Plautius’ victory made him change his mind. The decimation of Boudica’s forces brought a grisly end to her rebellion. The cities would be rebuilt and Rome’s foothold would grow ever stronger. Gnaeus Julius Agricola, who had served on Plautius’ staff and fought in the Battle of Watling Street, would soon yet again prove his worth to Roman Britain.