The Heirs of King Verica. Culture and Politics in Roman Britain.
By Martin Henig.
Stroud: Tempus, 2002
160pp, 68 b/w figures, 16 colour plates.
ISBN 0752419609
Reviewed by Maureen Carroll
Introduction
Martin Henig’s intention in writing this book was to champion
the contribution of the Britons to the creation and perpetuation
of Roman Britain. He focuses on the southern part of Britain, particularly
the elites, exploring their relationship with the culture and literature
of Rome. He clearly distances himself from those who traditionally
have understood Britain as an essentially military province. Henig
is not alone in wanting to better grasp the Britons before, during
and after the Roman conquest and to investigate the choices they
made in embracing and adapting foreign ways and ideas. In this regard
a departure from concentrating on forts, soldiers and military equipment
as the essence of Roman Britain is not a bad idea, although the
army and its impact cannot be totally ignored, as it is here. Henig
has peopled his book with heroines and heroes, ‘reconstructing’
conversations and letters exchanged between historical and fictional
characters. In this he is only partially successful, and, in fact,
the book is a curious mixture of erudite analysis of archaeological
and historical evidence and sometimes uncomfortably naïve narratives.
|
The text
Henig commences with an examination of the so-called friendly kings
of the late Iron Age in southern and south-eastern Britain, looking
at their diplomatic and economic contacts with Rome. His main character,
known only through Roman sources and his Roman-style coinage, is
Verica, king of the Atrebates and client king of Rome. Power struggles
and territorial disputes between pro-Roman and anti-Roman dynasts
resulted not only in the Roman invasion of A.D. 43, but also in
the consolidation and expansion of the kingdom of Verica’s
heir, Tiberius Claudius Togidubnus, a Roman citizen granted the
title Rex Magnus Britanniae. Henig, by means of imaginary letters
and conversations, weaves a story of Verica’s expulsion from
Britain, his asylum in Rome and Togidubnus’ upbringing and
education in Rome into his examination of the rather more meagre
and ‘factual’ Roman sources. In effect, he downplays
the ‘invasion’, which was used in Roman propaganda to
legitimise the emperor Claudius’ position in Rome, and he
suggests that it was the king and his people who played a ‘key
role in protecting the land for the Roman Empire’ (p. 54).
Henig then explores how the land became Roman, citing civilian
building programmes at Chichester, Fishbourne, Bath, Bosham and
Hayling Island in the 1st century A.D. as indications of indigenous
efforts, in large part through dynastic patronage, to create a Romanised
environment. The cultural inheritance of the commonwealth of the
Empire, according to Henig, was eagerly embraced by later generations
in southern Britain. Inscriptions, writing tablets and graffiti
are used to explore the spread of literacy and to explain the extent
to which Latin literature and rhetoric was a part of British education.
Likewise, literary and iconographic themes displayed in figural
mosaic pavements are interpreted as a sign of deep and widespread
Graeco-Roman erudition. This section of the book contains more imaginary
conversations between a British youth and his Greek teacher, the
two of them wandering around Corinium (Cirencester) and discussing
literature and art in the mid-3rd century.
Henig sees no reason why, as long as the province flourished in
the high Empire, the owner of an estate or a successful merchant
would have opposed the rule of a state which allowed and facilitated
participation in the benefits of a larger whole. Rival Roman emperors,
barbarian incursions in the west and general instability, however,
prompted the British ruling class in A.D. 286, presumably in their
own perceived ‘best interests’ to support Carausius,
and later Allectus, who set up a power base in northern Gaul and
Britain. Henig sketches a plausible picture of imperial reprisals
against Britain after 296, particularly by the members of the house
of Constantine, which led to the disaffection of the British elites
with the central government in the 4th century. Nevertheless, he
sees the 4th century as a golden age for Britain. In continuing
the theme of the cultivated British elites having thoroughly internalised
Roman culture and literature, the imagery of late Roman mosaic pavements
alluding to religion, mystery cults and classical philosophy is
given an in-depth analysis. These pavements are largely mythological
in theme, reflecting the familiarity with and popularity of Ovid,
Vergil, Hyginus and other Roman authors amongst a select group of
society ‘who shared an education, social structure and belief
system’ (p. 108). A bit of fiction again is stuck in the middle
of this section, a religious and erotic encounter between two couples
in a grove near Stonesfield villa. The couples talk about mosaics,
quote poetry, sing and dance to Venus and Bacchus to the point of
physical release, and discuss Plato, the Neoplatonist Plotinus and
philosophy.
The survival of the Roman educational system and the pride in Romanitas
amongst the Christian ruling classes from the 5th century is seen
by Henig as an element of continuity. The Church was the institution
that had ‘the same sort of supra-national organisation as
the Roman Empire’ (p. 131), and through it some form of allegiance
to Rome was maintained. Although the unity of the Church was threatened,
the British ‘brand’ of Christianity, which he refers
to as the Celtic Church, was eventually reconciled with the Roman
Church after the mission of St. Augustine to Britain in A.D. 601.
In order to bring his story to an end, Henig closes with a last
imaginary conversation between King Arthur and Guinn (or Asser)
in Winchester in A.D. 893. In this conversation, Asser compares
Arthur to Togidubnus, both men having brought culture and literature
to their people and thereby safeguarded humanitas. King Alfred is
portrayed by Henig as the ultimate heir to Verica and Togidubnus.
Conclusion
This book, quite honestly, has been difficult
to review, although it contains some very plausible alternative
interpretations of the material and historical record. For one thing,
because of its style it is not clear for what audience the book
has been written. One might also ask how valid his conclusions are
for Britain as a whole (Britain is in the title), if his focus is
a select group of people in the south. Furthermore, in view of recent
debates on the populations of Iron Age and Roman Britain, the use
of the term ‘Celtic’ is somewhat suspect, or at least
it needs some justification. Tribal names and territories are used
as if they accurately relate to real pre-Roman groups and areas
with defined borders, although it is quite clear that many, if not
most, of them were Roman constructs that did not truly reflect the
fluidity of the situation. The figures are scattered throughout
the book without any reference in the text, so that one is never
sure whether there will be a photograph or drawing somewhere in
the next couple pages that illustrates a point. On the subject of
illustrations, it is jarring to see an out of focus photograph as
the image on the front cover. Finally, the fictional parts of the
book pale in comparison to the good story telling of authors, such
as Lindsey Davis, who make people and history come alive with more
success.
Maureen Caroll
Maureen
Carroll is Senior Lecturer in Archaeology at the University
of Sheffield. Her research interests include the archaeology of
Roman Europe, especially Germany and Gaul, and the archaeology of
ancient gardens. She can be contacted at: p.m.carroll@sheffield.ac.uk
|