He was aware of his warriors on foot running past him as the first wave of the Romans reached their side of the river. They threw themselves at them hacking and slicing as missiles now from both sides hit where they landed indiscriminately all around. His warriors fought with ferocity and bravery as always and didn’t give any ground but the enemy were getting into their stride and were beginning to methodically stab out from behind their shields as men leapt from their rafts. More men and horses entered the water from the other side and in time the sheer weight of numbers on the front line of the Britons began to tell. His people were now being pushed back and less Roman dead were being taken by the waters flow.
Looking at the devastating scene just below him he knew something would give and it wasn’t long before his warriors started to retreat as the enemy got a foothold on their side of the riverbank. He looked on helplessly almost frozen as time seemed to slow and stop. A young man’s body broke away from the battle and floated downstream and Caratacus recognised Cunilis, the same man he had tried to encourage earlier was now dead.
“Retreat.” He shouted and gave the signal with his arm. He didn’t look back as he left the mound and walked to his horse. He briefly saw the shock on the faces of some of his warrior’s men and women alike as he admitted defeat so quickly. He knew he could either watch them fight and die or retreat and survive, he chose the latter.
“To Camulodunum, retreat.” He bayed once more and didn’t look back.
Varro was surrounded by men cheering and banging their swords against their shields as the Britons began their retreat. He didn’t feel like a celebration was in order looking at all the devastation around him. Most of the men were now stationary but a few still fought those few stragglers who had decided to stand and fight or who hadn’t realised the battle was over in the midst of the mayhem. The remaining Britons were routed and finished off quickly as they were vastly outnumbered. A trumpet sounded as the men of the legions walked ashore and gathered on the far bank and then pushed further onto firmer ground. The main force of the Britons were still retreating, they had clearly had enough and weren’t going to fight as they had at the Medway.
Orders were quickly sent out around the different cohorts. They were not to pursue the enemy but were to stand firm and secure the area which meant digging defences. As the river water cleared of blood, dead bodies were dragged ashore and lined up separately a line of Britons and a line of their own. It was apparent that there were far more dead Britons than Romans, probably a ratio of four to one and their line stretched along the riverbank some way.
Riders were sent east to try and recover other dead that had been taken by the current. Despite the retreat of the Britons, heavy infantry were now formed up and began to advance behind the cover of their shields. They were ordered to move to a distant spot designated by woodland and stop approximately a hundred paces short. This would enable the rest of the army to get across the Tamesa safely without fear of a counter attack. Engineers were already putting together a bridge that would allow more troops to cross.
Defensive palisades would be dug and a base of operations established, this would ensure that they kept what they had gained. Varro saw Plautius cross the river on a small boat with Vespasian close behind on another with his senior officers their red cloaks billowing in the breeze. As some men took the opportunity to dress wounds others drank from water sacks and the more seriously injured were carried to an area where surgeons and doctors already waited.
He saw one legionary being carried by four others with a spear through the trunk of his body. The tip of the weapon had somehow found its way through his segmented armour. He was screaming in agony with each jarring step, the invasion for him was over.
Chapter Sixteen
Caratacus and his army retreated all the way back to the safety of Camulodunum. Some of them were on war chariots that hadn’t even got involved in the fighting this time as the retreat had occurred so quickly, some were on horseback, others in carts but most were on foot. At first the inhabitants ran out of the enormous wooden walled settlement in celebration, great beaming smiles all over their faces, arms outstretched in greeting, until they saw the expressions and demeanour of the warriors coming towards them. Quickly their mood changed and they began to help those who had been injured in the battle and it became apparent that the river crossing by the enemy had turned into a rout.
As the new King entered the great open gates, women wailed mourning the loss of so many of their people and significantly Togodumnus as word spread of his death. Caratacus suddenly realised that he had always associated the great gates with happiness, security, feelings of well-being and safety but today was different. Today he felt empty, devastated and devoid of anything normal, how had this come to pass? A great darkness had descended over him and the place he had called home as a child as he looked into the faces of those standing watching them return.
People rushed to get the injured inside the many roundhouses and to get them treatment. Cries of agony from bleeding warriors and the wailing and screaming filled his ears from all around, his senses were bombarded with grief. He saw his wife Mott, for the first time since the battles and his eyes welled up with tears, he didn’t try to stop them.
“Come with me quickly.” She said. “You can’t let the people see you like this.” She grabbed his hand before he could say anything and led him through the low houses and woods that made up part of the great settlement and to the home of his brother. Ducking down under the low door he walked inside and for a second couldn’t see anything as his eyes adjusted to the darkness.
“We have to go, leave.” He said turning to Mott.
“Go? Go where husband, this is our home now. This is Camulodunum, where else are we supposed to go?” There is nowhere left. She looked into his eyes her face confused almost angry.
“They….the Romans” he began, “won’t stay where they are you know that, they’ll come straight here and slaughter every living thing. What are we supposed to do, what else would you suggest, wait and be massacred, is that what you’re saying wife?” He paused, “I can’t stop them I’ve tried time and time again and look what happened. They’ve killed hundreds of our people maybe thousands.” He heard crying from somewhere outside as someone quickly walked passed with their own personal grief.
“Our people can expect more of this when they get here,” he continued, “but it will be worse, they’ll raise this place to the ground if we try and defend it. They have machines that are unstoppable and the men are too well protected inside their body metal.” He looked at the smoke hole in the roof above and saw the blue sky above, it looked serene most unlike his reality below.
“What do you suggest we do husband flee, run away from our homes, our lives, all of us? I would rather die where I stand.” Mott said rage now written over her pretty face.
“And what of the people, their families, friends, our own children, we have generations of people here. What about the old, I can’t ask them to leave they wouldn’t last a few days and would slow us down with the Romans pursuing us.” He replied his frustration clear.
She was silent for a while. “Then we have to go with those who can survive, move quickly and fight. I will not stay here only to accept slavery or worse. I will not let that happen to our children, I’d rather take a blade to them and myself right now.” Mott said.
“I would as well.” He sat on the straw packed bed with his head in his hands. “If we do leave there’s a chance that the Romans will leave our people alone,” he looked up at his wife, “not kill them or sell them into slavery I mean. If we stay and fight one thing is certain, they’ll wipe us out.” He stood pacing, “I’ll ask those who are able to join me,” he paused adding, “us. We can’t fight them as we have so I have to find another way. Even if we had the same weapons they would defeat us because they hide behind theirs shields, they fight without honour.”