THE ROMAN RULE IN BRITAIN.

Earliest Notices of the British Isles—The Celts—Their Settlement in Britain—Their Character and Customs—Druidism—Its Organisation and Authority—Its Tenets—Stonehenge and other Remains—CÆsar's Preparations—The First Invasion—Peril of the Romans and their Retirement—The Second Invasion—CÆsar's Battles with Cassivelaunus—Claudius in Britain—The Resistance of Caractacus—His Defeat and Capture—His Speech before Claudius—The Conquest of Anglesea—Boadicea's Rebellion—The Capture of Camulodunum and London—Her Defeat and Death—Agricola in Britain—His Campaigns and Administration—His Campaign against the Caledonians—His Recall—The Walls of Hadrian and Severus—Rivals to the Emperor—Constantine's Accession—Christianity in Britain—Invasions of the Picts and Scots—Dismemberment of the Roman Empire and Departure of the Romans—Divisions and Administration of Britain under the Romans.

Separated from the continent of Europe by the sea, the British isles were not known to the nations of antiquity until a somewhat late date. Herodotus was ignorant of their existence; but Strabo, a contemporary of CÆsar, tells us that the Carthaginians had for a long period carried on a considerable commerce with the Cassiterides, or tin-islands, which are usually identified with the Scilly islands, and doubtless included also part of the Cornish coast. Again, Pytheas, a merchant of Marseilles, who lived about 332 B.C., visited this country in the course of his life, and fragments of his diary are still extant. He seems to have coasted round a considerable portion of what is now England, and his observations on the inhabitants are singularly acute. About two centuries later, Posidonius, another Greek traveller, visited Belerion, as he called it—that is, Cornwall; but, until the invasion of CÆsar, the extent of these islands, their main geographical features, and the tribes that inhabited them, were practically a matter of more or less complete ignorance to the civilised world that dwelt round the shores of the Mediterranean.

From the narrative of CÆsar, we gather that the bulk of the population of England, Scotland, and Wales at the time of his invasion was of Celtic origin; that is, it belonged to one of the branches of the great family of nations which is commonly known as the Indo-European, or Aryan, and which includes the Celts, the Greeks and Italians, the Germans, the Lithuanians and Slavs in Europe; and in Asia the Armenians, Persians, and the chief peoples of Hindustan. Of the Aryan nations, the Celts were probably the first to arrive in Europe from the East, though the date of their migration is purely conjectural. They pushed across the great central plateau, until the vanguard reached the ocean; and at first probably occupied a very large portion of Europe, but, being driven out by the stronger Germans, were gradually confined to the Iberian peninsula, France, Switzerland, and the British isles.

As it is impossible to fix the date of the Celtic migration into Europe, so it is equally impossible to conjecture the when and why of the Celtic invasion of Britain. It is pretty certain that they found other races here on their arrival; and that they did not succeed by any means in thoroughly exterminating them. It has been surmised, indeed, that the Silures, who played a prominent part in the resistance to the Romans, and who inhabited the south of Wales and Monmouthshire, belonged to some more primitive race than the Celts. After the Celts, in the same way came the BelgÆ, who were of German origin, and who settled on the southern coast. But the mass of the population was, as we have said, purely Celtic, and was composed of two large divisions—the Gaels, who dwelt on the northern and western coasts of what are now called England and Scotland, and over the great part of Ireland; and the Britons, who occupied the country south of the Friths of Forth and Clyde, with the exception of what is now Hampshire and Sussex, where dwelt the BelgÆ.

It was with the Britons, therefore, that the Romans were chiefly concerned, and we would fain have some information of their manners and customs other than that derived from the enemy, impartial though CÆsar and Tacitus were. But there was no British historian to chronicle the mighty deeds of the Celtic warriors, or to describe the home-life of the people. The picture we are able to construct, therefore, is derived almost entirely from the Romans; nevertheless, it is a fairly complete one. They describe a tall and finely built race, recklessly brave, strikingly patriotic, and faithful to the family tie; courteous also in manner, and eloquent of speech, and very fond of novelty, especially when it took the form of the arrival of a stranger in the village. At the same time the Britons were an unpractical race, never constant to any one object, quarrelsome amongst themselves, and utterly unable to combine against a common enemy.

Such was the moral character of the Britons. They dwelt in villages, in which the cottages were wattled and thatched with straw, and in time of danger repaired to a fortified and entrenched stronghold, or dun. The name of London records the site of one of these ancient places of refuge. They had large quantities of cattle, and grew corn, which they stored, in some districts at any rate, underground. Their breed of hunting dogs was also celebrated. Pytheas informs us that they made a drink of mixed wheat and honey, which is still drunk in part of Wales under the name of mead; while other writers, probably deriving their information from him, tell us that they drank another liquor made of barley, which is also not unknown in these days. They fought under their kings and chiefs, and were well armed with sword, spear, axe, and shield. The chiefs also fought from chariots, which they managed with great skill, and the onslaught of the British host was accompanied by loud cries and the blowing of horns, with which each man was provided.

Religion was in the hands of the Druids, who combined the character of prophet and priest. It was dark and mysterious as the gloomy forests in which it first drew birth, and in whose deepest recesses they celebrated their cruel rites. Its ministers built no covered temples, deeming it an insult to their gods to attempt to enclose their emblems in an edifice surrounded by walls, and erected by mortal hands; the forest was their temple, and a rough unhewn stone their altar. They worshipped a god of the sky and thunder, whom they identified with Jupiter; a sun-god, whom, when they were Romanised, they called Apollo; a god of war, afterwards called Mars; and a goddess who presided over births, like the Latin Lucina; and Andate, the goddess of victory. Besides these, who may be regarded as their superior deities, they had a great number of inferior ones. Each wood, fountain, lake, and mountain had its tutelary genius, whom they were accustomed to invoke with sacrifice and prayer.

The Druids were ruled by a chief whom they elected; they were the interpreters of the laws, which they never permitted to be committed to writing, the instructors of youth, and the judges of the people—a tremendous power to be lodged in the hands of any peculiar class. There were also Bards, whose duty it was to preserve in verse the memory of any remarkable event; to celebrate the triumph of their heroes; and, by their exhortation and songs, excite the chiefs and people to deeds of courage and daring on the day of battle.

It is impossible not to be struck by the profound cunning which presided over the organisation of this terrible priesthood, and concentrated all authority in its hands. Its ministers placed themselves between man and the altar, permitting his approach only in mystery and gloom. They wrought upon his imagination by the sacrifice of human life, and the most terrible denunciations of the anger of their gods on all who opposed them. As the instructors of youth, they moulded the pliant mind, and fashioned it to their purpose; as the judges of the people, there was no appeal against their decisions, for none but the Druids could pronounce authoritatively what was the law, there being no written code to refer to; they alone possessed the right to recompense or punish: thus the present and future welfare of their followers alike depended upon them.

The severest penalty inflicted by the Druids was the interdiction of the sacrifice to those who had offended them. Woe to the unhappy wretch on whom the awful sentence fell! He ceased to be considered a human being. Like the beast of the forest, his life was at the mercy of any one who chose to take it. He lost all civil rights, and could neither inherit land nor sue for the recovery of debts; every one was at liberty to spoil his property; even his nearest kindred fled from him in horror. They were also accustomed to sacrifice human victims on their altars, or burnt them as offerings to the gods, in wicker baskets.

It is now time to give some account of the dogmas of this extinct religion, once the general faith of Britain. Like the monks of the Middle Ages, the Druids of the higher orders lived in community in the remote depths of the vast gloomy forests, where they celebrated their rites. In these retreats they initiated the youthful aspirants for the priesthood, who frequently passed a novitiate of twenty years before being admitted. Disciples of all ranks flocked to them, despite the severity of the probation, tempted, no doubt, by the honours and great privileges attached to the order, amongst which exemption from taxation and servitude was not the least. The mistletoe is said by Pliny to have been a peculiarly sacred plant in their rites.

The Druids taught the immortality of the soul, and its transmigration from one body to another, till, by some extraordinary act of virtue or courage, it merited to be received into the assembly of the gods. CÆsar, in his "Commentaries," also informs us that they instructed their pupils in the movements of the heavenly bodies, and the grandeur of the universe. Their knowledge of mathematics must have been considerable, since we find it applied to the measurement of the earth and stars. In mechanics they were equally advanced, judging from the monuments which remain to us. Of these, the most remarkable in England are Stonehenge, consisting of 139 enormous stones, ranged in a circle; and that of Avebury, in Wiltshire, which covers a space of twenty-eight acres of land. But the largest of all the Druid temples is situated at Carnac, in the department of Morbihan, in France. It is formed of 400 stones, varying from five to twenty-seven feet in height, and ranged in eleven concentric lines. It should be mentioned, however, that some authorities consider these erections to belong to a period anterior to the arrival of the Celts in Europe, though they were probably utilised by them.

Such was the country and such the condition of its inhabitants when in 55 B.C. CÆsar undertook its invasion, to which he was led not so much by the thirst of dominion as by the necessity he found himself under of doing something to acquire a great name at Rome. He had already partially subdued the Gauls, and determined on striking a blow at Britain. Having decided on the expedition, the victorious general commenced his preparations with his accustomed energy. His first care was to obtain hostages from the Gauls: he questioned the merchants and others who had visited Britain as to its resources and extent, the natives which inhabited it, their manners, customs, and religion, and sent Commius, whom he had created King of the Atrabates in Gaul, to demand the submission of the islanders.

On the first news of the intended descent, the Britons, excited by the Druids and Bards, assembled in arms, in order to defend their coasts, but at the same time did not neglect other means of warding off the danger which threatened their independence, and despatched ambassadors to CÆsar with offers of alliance. They were received courteously, although the wily Roman knew that, incited by their priests, they had arrested his messenger, and kept him in chains. Meanwhile CÆsar prepared his fleet, and assembled his soldiers for the expedition. He 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 Wissant, 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 CÆsar hesitated, and dropped anchor till three in the afternoon, hoping for the arrival of his other galleys. Disappointed in this expectation, he sailed along the coast, and finally decided on disembarking at Deal, where the shore 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, incited by their bards and priests, who sang the songs of victory, and exhorted them to renew the combat each time they seemed to waver. 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.

Although he did not venture to follow the fugitives, they sent ambassadors, accompanied by Commius, whom the Britons released from 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 Commius 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.

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 the Romans, their chiefs appeared daily in their camp, professing unbroken friendship. Suddenly they fell 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 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 despatched 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 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 the army suddenly in the night, and retired to Gaul, taking the hostages he had received with him. Although the senate of Rome ordered a thanksgiving of twenty days for the triumph of the Roman arms, the first expedition against the island cannot be regarded as other than a failure.

For the second invasion, which took place in the following year, 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 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, and when repulsed withdrew into an admirably fortified camp, which was not taken without much difficulty. 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 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.

Meanwhile the Britons had united under Cassivelaunus, head-king of the tribes north of the Thames, and CÆsar advanced to meet him. The king proved a doughty opponent, seldom venturing upon a pitched battle, but harassing the Romans by sudden attacks, in which the chariots proved particularly formidable. At length CÆsar managed, with difficulty, to cross the Thames somewhere above London, and ravaged the king's territory. Fortunately the powerful tribe of the Trinobantes, who inhabited part of Middlesex and Essex, came over to him at this juncture, having old scores to pay off against Cassivelaunus, and they were followed by other tribes. CÆsar was therefore able to storm Verulam, the stronghold of the British king, and then, finding that his camp on the coast was being besieged by the four kings of Kent, that his troops were being wearied out by the constant alarms, and having, in addition, received unpleasant news from Gaul, he accepted the offers of peace made by Cassivelaunus, and departed. So ended CÆsar's invasions of Britain.

For nearly a century, that is, until A.D. 43, Britain remained undisturbed by the Romans; but at length the Emperor Claudius determined that the island should be thoroughly conquered. Accordingly his general, Aulus Plautius, landed with an army, and, after gaining considerable successes, wrote 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 Camulodunum (Colchester or Malden, authorities are divided as to which), receiving in his progress the submission of a number of petty kings and chiefs. This had been the stronghold of Cunobelinus, the Cymbeline of Shakespeare. 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.

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 moment appeared favourable to the victorious general to subdue the Silures, a fierce and warlike nation, who, under their king, Caractacus, still held out against the Roman arms (A.D. 50). 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 in the island, in a great measure, depended. He first settled a strong colony of his veteran soldiers at Camulodunum, 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, in the middle of Wales. 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 disquietude the river which 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 on, 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; 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, Cartismandua, 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. He 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 by Caractacus himself, calm and unsubdued by his misfortune.

Advancing to the throne, he pronounced the following remarkable discourse, which Tacitus has preserved for us:—"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 would soon have followed my execution. If thou sparest my life, I shall be an eternal monument of thy clemency." 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 them with respect. 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. 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, who died, however, shortly afterwards, worn out by the perpetual attacks of the Silures.

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, Cartismandua, 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. Nero assigned the government of Britain to Veranius, who died a year afterwards, in a campaign he had undertaken against the Silures.

Suetonius Paulinus, who was despatched to Britain by Nero in 58, 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 women, 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. The 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 even more severely felt, but for an insurrection which shortly afterwards broke out in that portion 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 Camulodunum, 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 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 Cerealis, 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 Anglesea, Suetonius Paulinus received intelligence of the revolt of the Britons against the colonies of the eastern parts of the island. Immediately he set out on his march for London. This is the first mention which we have in history of this city by the title of Londinium—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. But the small force under his command was unable successfully to govern it against the fury of the native enemies, who eagerly panted for the destruction of a town which was at once the monument of Roman triumph and the stronghold of Roman tyranny. Anxious that his small army should not be destroyed in an attempt to defend what was hopeless, Suetonius resolved to retreat and give up the city to the plunder of the Britons. All such as were willing to leave it were taken into his army, and, amid the cries and lamentations of the inhabitants, the city was abandoned by the Roman troops. 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 or 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 my 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 outraged liberty; my body torn by the scourge; and the dishonoured innocence of my daughters! 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 on which we must vanquish or die. Such will be, such shall be the fate of one woman; let men live slaves if they will."

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 dead 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, he lost the favour of a prince in whose reign no man of celebrity was spared.

In the reign of Vespasian, his general, Cerealis, reduced the Brigantes in the years A.D. 69 and 70, and his successor, Julius Frontinus, conquered the Silures. 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 at all the important points. In his fourth campaign Agricola crossed the Forth to the southern frontier of Caledonia, or the Scottish Highlands, 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 Domitian, who, like most men of suspicious nature, 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.

He now turned his attention to the people north of the Forth, whom Tacitus calls the Caledonians. 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 these 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 CAUSE A WALL TO BE BUILT FOR THE PROTECTION OF THE SOUTH."

After the Wall Cartoon by W. Bell Scott. R.H.A., at Wallington.
By permission of the Right Hon. Sir George O. Trevelyan.