For several decades Guy de la Bédoyère has been writing accessible and popular books on Roman Britain. The Real Lives of Roman Britain is no exception. It is an easy read which does not let an excess of facts or over-worked analysis impede a fresh narrative. Bédoyère has chosen to focus on the people who made up Roman Britain rather than provide a history of Roman Britain. That said, he weaves into the text a general chronological outline that takes the reader from Caesar's expeditions to the break-up of the Diocese of Britannia in the early fifth century. For those new to the subject of Roman Britain, there is probably enough information to understand the historical backdrop for the characters presented, and I admire Bédoyère on riding two horses successfully through the book.
Bédoyère uses a full range of sources, including major authors such as Tacitus and Dio; a diverse selection of inscriptions, the Vindolanda tablets; and archaeological evidence. He freely admits that the vast proportion of people who lived in Roman Britain, mostly the British rural population, had almost no voice whatsoever. It was, rather, immigrants from abroad—soldiers, officials, merchants, and the like—and Britons who had entered into imperial service who had the wealth and status to “buy-in” to the Roman world who left specific records of their existence. Yet many of these records amount to little more than a snapshot: a dedication to a god or an epitaph on a tombstone. Despite this incomplete record, Bédoyère is fully justified in constructing a picture of life in Roman Britain as it has survived because, as he states, “it is all we have” (195).
His approach does raise some interesting points. He builds up a convincing picture that few Britons gained senior positions in the Roman world, arguing that there was a prejudice against Britons. This comes through in the Brittunculi (“miserable little Britons”) tablet from Vindolanda and in Ausonius's vitriolic critique of the work of the British poet Silvius Bonus. It even seems to extend to Saint Augustine's condemnation of Pelagius's theological beliefs. Bédoyère also states that there was no Briton who held a major office, for example as governor. The evidence does not refute this, but the sources do suggest that Magnentius, a usurper who ruled the western empire for three years (AD 350–53) had a British father and Frankish mother. This would help to explain why Paul the Chain exacted such revenge on the higher echelons of British society after Magnentius's demise. With this in mind, it is interesting to view Britain, as Bédoyère suggests, as a stage on which many people from abroad perform, often for only short periods.
Roman Britain was a multicultural society, with people from all over the Roman Empire. For example, at the upper end of society was Julius Classicianus, the procurator after the Boudican Revolt, who was a Gaul. There was Aulus Aufidius Olussa, from Athens, and the Caledonian Lossio Veda, from the north. Bédoyère gives an excellent account of the marriage of a British slave girl from Hertfordshire to a Syrian, Barates, from Palmyra.
Bédoyère is able to make some of the drier topics of Roman Britain interesting through novel devices. Pottery can present very niche studies lacking in much human passion. However, by following the fortunes of mortaria producers from around London and Verulamium who ended up in the Midlands and the North, Bédoyère provides an insight into how early entrepreneurs in Britain satisfied and moved with their markets, at this time mainly the army. From inert potsherds, Bédoyère creates lively human stories. (One has to feel sorry for the poor Aldgate-Pulborough potter who Bédoyère mocks, to very good effect.)
Given the paucity of evidence, Bédoyère admittedly resorts to speculation. However, he is correct to pose questions and suggest answers. Particularly interesting is his consideration of the pedigree of various names found in Roman Britain, such as Aulus Cluentius Habitus, a unit commander on Hadrian's Wall whose infamous ancestor was defended in court by Cicero. An interesting leitmotif of Bédoyère's book is Virgil's Aeneid. In a further twist to the story of Habitus, the Cluentii are mentioned as deriving from a companion of Aeneas, suggesting they were supporters of Augustus, for whom Virgil wrote. Bédoyère covers the well-known examples pertaining to the Aeneid: the writing exercise for a boy at Vindolanda; the coins of Carausius; the Lullingstone “Europa and the Bull” mosaic; and the cartoon-strip depiction of Dido and Aeneas on the Low Ham mosaic. However, in other cases, Bédoyère delves deeper and presents new links. A potter in the Verulamium region shared his name, Dares, with a Trojan warrior in the Aeneid (and a priest in Homer's Iliad). The Latin woodland god Faunus features both in the Aeneid and on spoons in the Thetford Treasure. To this list one can add the fragment of wall painting from Otford, now on display in the British Museum, that preserves a reference to either Aeneas's or Turnus's holding two spears (Roman Inscriptions of Britain 4, 2447.9).
Bédoyère notes the often-stated estimate of two to six million for the population of Roman Britain. I think that with the evidence from the Rural Settlement of Roman Britain Project (Reading University and Cotswold Archaeology) and the Portable Antiquities Scheme that we can consider pushing the estimate up towards the upper end. The Portable Antiquities Scheme alone appears to have identified many hundreds of new Roman sites, showing that the density of occupation was much greater than previously thought (Britannia 42 (2011), 332–7).
There are a few places where I would quibble with Bédoyère. Faustina I died in AD 141 (not 140). The now commonly accepted dates for the Gallic emperors are Postumus (AD 260–69), Victorinus (AD 269–71) and Tetricus I (AD 271–74). The latest coins in the Frome hoard were of Carausius (AD 286–93) with a likely terminus post quem of circa 290 (not 305 as Bédoyère states) and the deposit was almost certainly a cache of various different groups of coins all secluded at once, rather than being deposited over time (see Sam Moorhead, Anna Booth, and Roger Bland, The Frome Hoard, 2010).
Bédoyère provides a helpful group of appendices explaining names, money, and sources and providing a gazetteer and timeline. A map of Britain and the Roman Empire marking some of the places mentioned would have helped, however. The plates present an impressive array of sites and finds, although I was surprised to find so few line drawings—a specialty of Bédoyère's—in the text.
Overall, The Real Lives of Roman Britain is a fine volume. It is an easy read that brings to life many everyday characters from Roman Britain and presents material that will be new to many readers. In The Romans Who Shaped Britain (2012), David Stuttard and I were criticized for generally overlooking the ordinary people in favor of the big players. This was a fair point, and now Bédoyère has provided the book the critics were asking for. He is to be congratulated.
