Most people educated in the UK will have come across Boudica and have a certain level of awareness of who she was and when she lived. For those outside the UK she may seem to be an almost mythological figure in British history, who rebelled against the Romans and has become a symbol of feminism and resistance to this day. Some of the key things about her may include:
Tall with flaming red hair
Led a rebellion against the romans 2000 years ago
Possibly buried under Kings Cross station in London.
Now, although there may be truth in some of these statements (she isn’t buried at Kings Cross), it is certainly clear that there has been a decent amount of mythologising and exaggeration with her story in recent years.
In early May 2025, I appeared on Great British Railway Journeys where I told Michael Portillo that we don’t really know a lot about her, partly because she was unsuccessful in her rebellion. But what do we know?
I’m going to lay out what actual evidence we have for the warrior queen and what it can tell us about the events of 60 and 61 CE, when the Romans met one of many major resistance marches in British history.
There are plenty of books and other sources out there that go into much more depth than this (read Duncan Mackay’s “Echolands”!), but this will be a short summary of the main points we have to deal with when trying to understand the truth of the fierce virago that was Boudica.
What is the evidence?
The evidence is incredibly limited when it comes to Boudica. We have three sources, two of which are by the same author and all written quite a while after the events.
The first two come from the historian Tacitus, who as a side note is the son-in-law of Gnaeus Julius Agricola who was a governor of Britain about a decade after the Boudiccan event. As such, we can assume (and sometimes quite blatantly see) that his writing, especially “the Agricola”, is mostly propaganda for his father-in-law.
His other account in “the Annals” is much more lengthy, but still written as a form of Roman propaganda.
The other author that mentions the events of 60/61 CE is Cassius Dio, a Greek historian who was alive over 100 years after Boudica’s rebellion. His work “Roman History” covered a thousand years of myth and fact, describing the origins of the Roman Empire leading into his own time. He may have had access to sources that no longer survive, given some of his writing being quite detailed on the events. Sadly we are limited to this one work of Dio’s and the two of Tacitus’ accounts.
Beyond the written sources we have archaeology. If you excavated in the three towns Boudica and her army destroyed, you will find a layer of burnt earth known as the Boudiccan Destruction Horizon. This provides a useful marker for archaeologists to know what time period they are looking at in the soil - before or after Boudica. Of course this evidence tells us nothing about the individual who led the rebellion, only the scale of destruction that occurred at that time. Yet it is still a useful source for understanding what happened in the years 60 and 61 CE.
What did she look like?
Oddly it is Cassius Dio, writing over 100 years after Boudica’s rebellion, who gives the most detailed description of the warrior queen. He describes her as being very tall, with long “ξανθοτάτην” hair. The common translation for this word is “tawny”, being a sort of orangey brown. Yet the Ancient Greeks were notorious for having a variety of words for colours that we struggle to translate (see all the debate around the “wine-dark sea”). In reality, Boudica could have been anything from blonde to ginger, based on Cassius Dio’s account.
She was also described as having a fierce glint in her eye and a harsh voice. She seemingly struck fear in all those who looked at her, which is of course entirely subjective and certainly something the victorious Romans would want to promote. She wore a brightly coloured tunic, cloak and a gold necklace (a torc?). Perhaps some of these descriptions come from accounts that don’t survive or through oral history traditions, but whether they’re true or not we cannot know for sure.
In terms of Tacitus’ account of the events, all we really know is that Boudica was a woman. We can’t gain anything from them about how she looked, giving even more reason to suggest Cassius Dio’s sources come from elsewhere.
Of course, we don’t have Boudica’s body, which might have provided us with some insight into her physical appearance. Despite suggestions as to where she might have died (I’ll come onto that later), the warrior queen’s look will have to remain a mystery.
What did she do?
TW: sexual assault and violence against women
There is an incredibly long and complex answer to this question, so summarising will be fairly difficult. Essentially we know nothing of Boudica before 60 CE, when her husband Prasutagus died and she took control of the lands of the Iceni (parts of modern Norfolk and Suffolk). According to Tacitus, the romans, who did not accept female rule, removed her from power and ordered her daughters to be raped. It was this that led her to gather support across eastern Britain and attack the major Roman towns in the region.
The reality of a major attack on towns across Britain in 60 and 61 CE is shown through archaeological evidence. As mentioned, the Boudiccan Destruction Horizon proves that a significant event involving fire happened at Colchester, London and St Albans, and possibly elsewhere. Evidence of a similar burn layer at Calleva Atrebatum (Silchester) could indicate another rebellion taking place at the same time. No attacks outside the three main towns were mentioned in any written source, but this could have been locals reacting to news of Boudica’s attacks further north. Equally, it could have been an entirely coincidental large scale fire at a major Roman town in Britain at almost exactly the same time…
Tacitus provides us with a fairly thorough breakdown of what was going on in the towns before Boudica arrived. This is possibly an indicator that some made it out alive to tell the tale, though it is certain that large numbers in each town were slaughtered during Boudica’s rampage. Objects like the Fenwick Treasure show that people weren’t able to return for their belongings, suggesting they did not survive. The towns all returned to their former glory not too long after the Romans regained control, so anyone living there previously would have had the opportunity to return and retrieve any valuables.
In Colchester, both Tacitus and Cassius Dio report a sort of premonition in the Thames before Boudica’s attacks. A city fallen in ruin and the dead were present in the waters. Similarly in Colchester, Tacitus reports the statue of Victory fell unexpectedly, landing with her back turned to the city. These are all clearly poetic metaphors for the inevitability of the events that were to happen and perhaps a way of expressing Roman accountability for their poor handling of Britain at that time (“they deserved it!”). Regardless of the reason for including these visions, it sets the scene for the events that would unfold.
Equally in Colchester we have a detailed account of what happened to the people of the town, something we don’t get for London and St Albans. Tacitus writes that the people of the town who weren’t able to flee ended up in a temple, which has long been believed to be the temple of Claudius (where Colchester Castle stands today, we believe). This may be because it was one of the largest civic buildings in the town, or it may be because the people were seeking divine help. In either case, this did nothing for them. The temple was eventually stormed by the British troops. Everyone inside, mostly civilians and certainly including women and children, were killed. Only a small detachment of Roman cavalry soldiers, under the command of Petilius Cerialis, who had been sent to help were able to make it out alive.
All accounts agree that the Roman army were unable to get south quick enough to stop Boudica’s army because they were busy fighting the druids on the island of Mona, off the coast of Wales. It would have taken a considerable amount of time from Boudica’s first attack, for the news to reach the army and for them to then head south. The exact location of where the two armies met is unknown, though many have claimed to have found the spot. Tacitus described the location as somewhere with a narrow gorge and a woodland at one end, behind the Roman troops. This seems to have been a tactical choice and may have led to the Roman victory against the british troops, who according to all accounts vastly outnumbered the romans.
In terms of numbers, Tacitus claims that 70,000 romans lost their lives in the towns that were attacked. He also estimates the Roman troops that battled Boudica to be around 10,000. He doesn’t give numbers for the British troops but described how they had brought their wives along with them to the battle. However, as we now have a better understanding of the role of women in Iron Age Britain, perhaps some of those woman spotted by the romans were also warriors. That would have been something a Roman would have found unbelievable. Cassius Dio on the other hand records 230,000 troops in the British army. This would have been a considerable number at the time, nearly the entire population of the regions involved in this conflict. He also describes their vastness by saying that, even if every Roman soldier stood single file in a line, the British troops would still extend beyond that line in length. Whatever the true numbers might have been, it is likely the romans were greatly outnumbered.
Whatever the details, we know the British people were defeated and the Romans regained control of much of Britain. What followed was a campaign of reinforced Romanness, by building incredibly Roman buildings, enforcing incredibly Roman customs and bringing in an incredibly large (or at least more than before) Roman army. In fact, Boudicca’s rebellion had an even more adverse affect than what she could have ever hoped for. Instead of freeing the British, they were subjected to greater Roman control and even more of the island ended up under Roman rule. Whether she was justified or not in leading her rebellion, the interactive at Colchester Castle regularly hovers around 50:50, she certainly contributed to the overall “romanisation” (I’ll deal with that another time) of the island.
What happened to her after the rebellion?
This is where the sources differ. Tacitus, reporting closer to the actual events and undoubtedly using first hand witness testimony from his father in law, mentions nothing in the Agricola other than the army was defeated. In the Annals however, he says that she poisoned herself after the battle. This very much fits with Roman ideals of what a person of wealth and status would do when humiliated. Not too far from this time, the writer Juvenal describes poisoning as being particularly associated with high status individuals. However, is this actually what Boudica did or is this a Roman perspective on the ideal death for a woman of her rank?
Cassius Dio says that she died of sickness and had the benefit of a lavish burial. Again, he is writing over 100 years after the event, but who’s to say he didn’t have access to other sources that did not survive or get passed down to us today. Equally, who’s to say it wasn’t the poison that made her feel sick?
At the end of the day, we don’t really know what happened to her after the battle as there is no tomb to identify her final resting place. She may have been killed in the battle or she may have gone on to live a long happy life, with Roman propaganda telling the people otherwise to avoid any further uprisings. Some have claimed to have identified her burial, whether that be a mysterious location at Kings Cross or the strikingly similarly named tombstone of Bodicacia from Cirencester (neither of which are where Boudica ended up). However, the final resting place of the warrior queen, and how she got there, will forever remain a mystery.
Boudica’s legacy
Since then, the image and legend of Boudica has grown. It understandably was barely whispered for over a thousand years, until stories were picked up again by later warrior queens. Both Queen Elizabeth I and Victoria saw themselves in the legends and sparked a renewed interest in her story. Statues have been built, books have been written and films have been made referencing her life. She has even made her way into video games, such as Civilization and Ryse: Son of Rome. A lot of what we believe we know about her has come from these fictionalised accounts. We don’t want to face the truth that, really, we know very little about this enigmatic figure. Her legend and legacy have had far more impact and influence on this island than her rebellion ever did.
Despite her obvious failings, she is still seen as a symbol of female power and resistance. Her name was even used in Victorian times to refer to unmarried rebellious women (which, according to Judy Grahn, later got detracted to Bull Dyke and eventually became slang for lesbians). Whatever we might think of her today, it’s clear that she is a prime example of someone’s legend outshining their life.
