Boudica was a leader of the ancient British tribe the Iceni and is one of the most famous, or infamous, figures in ancient British history.
Though she is often referred to as ‘Queen of the Iceni’, Boudica was actually merely the wife of the king, Prasutagus, though in the end she would come to earn her regnal title in spirit if not in practice.
Occupying territory in what is now Norfolk, Suffolk and Cambridgeshire, the Iceni were one of the very few tribes in southern Britain that were not outright conquered by the Romans after their invasion in 49 CE. Instead, Prasutagus became a client king, loyal to the emperor but not directly governed by the Roman state.
Boudica and Prasutagus had only two daughters. Aware of how vulnerable his children would be after he was gone, Prasutagus drew up a will namig both Emperor Nero and his daughters as his heirs. This, he hoped, would allow his family to continue enjoying their client status.
But it was not to be. Almost as soon as Prasutagus died in either 60 or 61 CE, his will was disregarded by the Romans. The Iceni were to be formally absorbed into the empire. Catus Decianus, the procurator of Britannia, called in all the loans that had been given to the Iceni and Roman troops were sent to pillage the countryside. Eventually they made their way to the royal residence, where Boudica herself, no doubt still in mourning, was acosted and then flogged.
But the worse was yet to come. Boudica’s daughters, aged 10 and 12 respectively, were raped by the Roman soldiers.
This outrage was merely the icing on the cake and the Iceni almost immediately rose in revolt, with a wrathful Boudica at the helm.
It was fortuitous timing, because the bulk of the Roman forces in Britannia were busying invading the island of Mona (modern Angelsey, Northwest Wales) under the command of governor Suetonius Paulinus.
The first target of the rebels was the provincial capital at Camulodunum. The town had once been the seat of the Trinovantes, but had since been rebuilt as a Roman settlement populated by retired veterans and their families.
As virtually their entire tribe marched south, the Iceni were joined by the Trinovantes, who were just as eager to throw off the Roman yoke.
Cassius Dio reports that by the time the rebel army arrived in the vicinity of Camulodunun, it numbered 120,000. This almost certainly includes the women and children.
By contrast, Camulodunum had no defenses to speak of and no defenders to man them anyway. The city was immediately overwhelmed. What followed was an orgy of violence.
Some of the townspeople took refuge in the newly built Temple of Claudius, but many others were not so lucky. Thousands were massacred and many had their bodies mutilated as the Britons took vengeance for their mistreatment at the hands of the Romans.
For two days, the survivors held out in the temple. Eventually, Boudica ordered it to be burned, with everyone still inside. The destruction at Camulodunum was so thorough that, to this day, there remains a black destruction layer in the soil beneath the old city, filled with ash and shards of pottery and roof tiles.
While the Temple of Claudius was under siege, the Britons also destroyed a large detachment of the Legio IX Hispana sent to relieve the city.
With Camulodunum practically levelled, Boudica now turned her attention to the other major Roman settlement in the south: the trading centre at Londonium.
By this point word had reached Paulinus on Mona and he reacted decisively. He marched his army down the major thoroughfare that later came to be known as Watling Street, which terminated in Londinium itself.
With no troops to defend itself, Londinium was destined to suffer the same fate as Camulodunum. Once again, a major Roman city was subjected to a bloody sack. Once again, thousands were butchered and mutilated as the Britons vented their fury.
After Londinium, so went Verulamium (modern St Albans). By this point, Boudica’s army had slaughtered around 80,000 people, almost all of them civilians.
The Britons seemed unstoppable. Thousands flocked to Boudica’s banner, swelling her numbers to truly massive proportions.
Paulinus and Boudica met somewhere along Watling Street, though the precise location has been lost to history. Possessing perhaps 10,000 men, Paulinus faced off against a horde Cassius Dio records as numbering 230,000 men. Again, this likely refers to entire group, including the women and children. In any case, Boudica’s fighting men still outnumbered the Romans at least 5 to 1.
For the Britons, it seemed victory was at hand. All they had to do was destroy this small army.
But Paulinus had chosen his battlefield carefully, arraying his forces across a small defile that meant the Britons could only approach from the front.
As for the Britons, they occupied the plain below. The women and children arranged the hundreds of wagons in a great arc across the plain so that they could watch the coming spectacle.
When Boudica finally gave the order, her warriors surged forward in a direct assault, intending to overwhelm the Romans by numbers alone. Unfortunately, Boudica, formidable though she may be, was not an experienced military commander and the situation that her army now found itself in was exactly the kind of situation in which the Roman army was nigh on unstoppable.
The battle was a slaughter. Once the initial momentum of the Briton charge was spent, the Romans went to work and ground their enemies into the dirt. And the British numbers now worked against them. The sheer mass of warriors meant that those at the front were unable to retreat and they were cut down.
Paulinus delivered the coup de grace when his cavalry swept in from the flanks and a full on rout ensued.
But the disaster was about to get worse. The wall of wagons made it much harder for the Britons to withdraw and tens of thousands were killed as they attempted to squeeze through the narrow gaps en masse.
Tacitus reports that between 70,000 and 80,000 Britons died on that day, a truly staggering number. Paulinus’ victory could not have been more complete. Rome continued to rule Britannia for 350 years.
As for Boudica, her fate is not known for certain, but it has long been tradition that she, comprehending the scale of the catastrophe unfolding before her and unwilling to be captured, poisoned herself in the British camp. The fate of her daughters is unknown.