In this book H. recognises the tendency in recent years for those studying Roman Britain to ignore the ancient texts. He therefore aims ‘to navigate the division between [the] accounts of classical literature and studies of archaeological materials’ (p. viii). His suggestion that the use of the term ‘sources’ for the texts ‘implies that they contain factual information about events that can be taken on trust’, preferring ‘literary texts’ (p. 6), may, however, raise eyebrows. It not only misunderstands the work of generations of scholars, but H. also bases his narrative on texts that can only be described as key sources, and he takes literary flourishes seriously. For example, Tacitus’ epigram about ‘enslavement’ (the result of being introduced to fine living and baths: Agricola 21) is treated as though it means literal slavery (pp. 256, 258; cf. A. Birley's translation [1999], pp. xxxv–vi). The key to the book's overall approach can be found in the rather awkward final sentence: ‘This tale of conquering Ocean narrated in this book are [sic] aimed to communicates [sic] the futility of such imperialistic acts and the death and enslavement they occasion’ (p. 260). These sentiments demonstrably affect the selection and interpretation of the evidence.
Archaeological evidence and texts are used to contrast peaceful Britons and aggressive, exploitative Romans. While archaeology may show little conflict in the Iron Age (p. 61; cf. pp. 7, 33–4), we would similarly lack evidence if we relied on archaeology alone for the Roman invasions. Even the claimed Caesarean invasion base near Ebbsfleet (p. 30) is open to other interpretations. The evidence (e.g. p. 26) can easily be read as indicating an Iron Age martial culture. Chariot warfare needs controlled resources and practice. British exports including grain and slaves (p. 59) must have been carefully controlled, and the slaves must have been obtained from warfare. One should not argue anything from standard depictions of victims on Roman tombstones (p. 237; cf. pp. 84, 191); this is merely the visual equivalent of naming one's ‘people’ ‘men good in battle’ (the Catuvellauni, p. 268). References to the Britons’ use of forests and marshes in warfare may well be genuine (contra p. 33). Even in the south-east Caesar and Aulus Plautius would have seen for themselves the forest of the Weald, heavily wooded London Clay and marshes in Kent and Essex. The frequent emphasis on deliberate Roman massacres to set examples proceeds by assumption, with little support from the evidence: for example, ‘a small sample of the many victims’ (p. 84); ‘we can presume’ slaughter (p. 160); the ‘strategy may have included the killing of their enemies in large numbers’ (p. 157). This is all rather in contradiction to H.'s emphasis on the constant Roman search for slaves (e.g. pp. 37, 157).
Taxation is another regular theme (e.g. pp. 122–3), but the probability that something of the kind existed in Iron Age societies is ignored (cf. Agricola 13). H. says Agricola was ‘working … to improve the efficiency of the taxation’ (p. 140), when Tacitus’ story was about him dealing with abuses in the system (Agricola 19). Tacitus himself helped to prosecute a corrupt proconsul (Birley's translation, p. xxxiii). Any positive aspects go unnoticed. The archaeological evidence suggests that the south-east, and later much more of Britain, took readily enough to being in the Empire; countryside settlement shows little change in the years either side of the invasion.
The narratives of the invasion and the Boudican revolt are disappointing, both muddled and offering little advance on the traditional stories. The text (e.g. p. 69) rather conflicts with the map (fig 3.1; surely 48–9 is an error for 43–9?). Accepting that Togodumnus and Togidubnus are the same (pp. 70–1) follows current fashion, which makes no sense from the Roman point of view, and after all there were other Boudicas (R. Tomlin, Britannia Romana [2018], p. 211; cf. R. Coates, Antiquaries Journal 85 [2005]). The supposedly planned Caligulan invasion (pp. 63–4) lacks almost any evidence, and the case for Plautius landing in the Solent, offering a better fit for Dio's account (e.g. D. Bird, Britannia 33 [2002]) should have received attention.
The Solent area is something of a blind spot for H.; illustrations consistently lack the London–Chichester road (fig. 7.10 omits the London–Silchester road). The Seine–Solent was a long-established crossing (B. Cunliffe, Facing the Ocean [2001], p. 43; not mentioned in this book). H. refers to pre-Roman Fishbourne and the major settlement at Silchester (e.g. pp. 54–5, 126), but fails to recognise their significance during the invasion. He lands forces at Fishbourne, but gives them nothing to do (pp. 67–9). In the Boudican revolt, far from going north after the dash to London, Suetonius Paulinus would surely have aimed to protect Silchester, providing himself with support, supplies and a link to the Continent (contra p. 122).
The attention paid to a magnified special significance of Ocean is supported by little more than assertion: for example headings such as ‘subduing Ocean’ (p. 94), ‘Emperor of the Ocean’ (p. 198), ‘Ocean harnessed’ (p. 228), and language implying more than is in the texts. Claudius’ speech to the Senate (p. 94) does not say ‘challenging the gods and crossing Ocean’; Tacitus (Agricola 23) has no mention of ‘divine waters’ (p. 153). A quoted ‘Roman poet’ (Martial) only refers to visiting ‘Father Ocean’ (p. 162). H. suggests that ‘failures in Britain contributed to the poor reputation of the emperors Caligula, Nero and Domitian, who were damned at death by order of the Roman Senate’ (pp. 4–6; cf. 65), but it is surely a step too far to suggest that this figured much in minds at Rome where these rulers were concerned.
Most ancient references emphasise the difficulties, not the ritual aspect of the Ocean. Surely if conquering Britain was seen as a ‘religious’ objective and campaigning a ‘magical act’ (p. 4), we should expect Caesar and Tacitus to emphasise this aspect? Yet Agricola 10 is standard in offering a sober and practical account of the ‘the largest of the islands known to the Romans’ and its surrounding seas. Calling Hadrian's Wall the ‘magic and military wall’ (pp. 222, 230) cannot hide the lack of evidence for the supposed special link to Ocean. There may be water-related shrines along the Wall, but there were for other landscape features also (p. 225), and these practices are common throughout the Empire. We might recall Frontinus, with his views on Roman practicality, as exemplified by aqueducts, compared to ‘the useless, though famous, works of the Greeks’ (De Aquaeductu 16).
There are some surprising errors in the concluding sections (e.g. concerning Classis Britannica forts [p. 214], Carausius [p. 248] and Magnus Maximus [p. 264]), but they are irrelevant to the main thrust of the book. The afterword, ‘What Have the Romans Ever Done for Us?’, mostly challenges any positive views of things Roman; but surely one cannot take Monty Python seriously as representing views in ‘elite (“public”) schools’ (p. 258)? Overall, the book offers little new on the narrative of invasion and conquest, with the main differences being the focus on nasty imperialist Romans and an interesting but ultimately unconvincing exploration of the supposed religious and magical dimension caused by Britain's setting in the Ocean. The target audience is presumably undergraduates with little knowledge of Roman Britain. The book may offer them a marker of the current anti-colonial approach with an up-to-date bibliography, but it is to be hoped that challenging it will encourage readers to seek a more balanced engagement with the original texts.
