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
