Rome’s Best Laid Plans?

Rome’s Best Laid Plans?

Paul Coby, Forts and Roman Strategy (Pen & Sword, 2022)
Most readers with more than a passing acquaintance with the Roman conquest of Britain will know the general outline of that endeavour. The question remains, however, whether or not the various campaigns into what is now Wales and Scotland were part of a grand strategy? Paul Coby takes a swing at that conundrum using a set of analytical tools derived from his many years of experience in database analysis and visualisation and organisational theory and practice. Coby’s book is split into two parts: a set of case studies, and an overview of his methodology. Coby backs the strategic approach for the Roman conquest but allows for opportunistic predatory instincts to operate within that framework. He tests his thesis by analysing five campaigns: Scapula’s failed campaign in Wales, Gallus’ containment of Wales, Frontinus’s success in Wales, Agricola’s advance into Scotland, and the establishment of the Antonine Wall.
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For Wales, it took a Roman Army unsuited to fighting guerilla warfare three decades to overcome mountainous terrain and tribal resistance. In 47 CE, Roman governor Ostorius Scapula defeated an Iceni rebellion then ravaged the ‘Welsh’ Deceangli and Silures in turn. The Ordovices would prove a tougher nut to crack, despite an initial battlefield victory, before a resurgent Silures counterattacked. Scapula seems to have died from exhaustion brought on by the campaigns. Coby analyses the Roman marching camps, forts, and roads, along with Legionary ‘fronts’ to discern the Roman strategy and track their armies. He concludes that Scapula’s aggression resulted in ‘complete failure’ because he pursued conquest over consolidation.
The next Roman governor, Didius Gallus, opted for a policy of containment. Coby posits a line of forts between two legionary fortresses that projected power into tribal areas. Suetonius Paulinus then attempted to complete the conquest, but Boudica’s rebellion in the east aborted that plan. Matters elsewhere in the Empire superseded Britain’s importance, and Wales would wait over a decade to meet its conqueror, Julius Frontinus. Coby describes Frontinus’ campaign as a ‘masterclass’. This was conducted in progressive phases that Coby narrates with the aid of maps and his Data-Led Analytical Method (D-LAM) method. Frontinus did not finish the job, however; that was left for Julius Agricola who had little to do but did it well.
Agricola’s campaigns in Scotland were, Coby argues, an ‘ideal test case’ for his D-LAM method. He describes the historical context and physical environment for the campaigns then establishes the Flavian frontier along the Forth-Clyde isthmus from where Agricola headed north. Coby plots probable marching routes and discusses the archaeological evidence of forts and roads before and after the Battle of Mons Graupius. Coby is convinced that a Flavian frontier system existed, anchored by the legionary fortress at Inchtuthil, but he acknowledges that the forts as a system are open to interpretation.
After positing his interpretation of Agricola’s chronology, Coby gives a favourable assessment of the campaign leading to Mons Graupius, though the aftermath was a strategic failure. He then speculates on the potential grand conquest that would have followed if the Romans had not withdrawn. Coby draws the story of the conquests in Wales and Scotland together, highlighting six phases: reconnaissance, invasion, occupation, incorporation, revolt, and assimilation.
Staying in Scotland, Coby’s final case study is the building of the Antonine Wall and the full conquest of southern Scotland. He considers this as a military overstretch by the Romans that resulted in another withdrawal. Coby follows the twin advance by Lollius Urbicus to the Forth-Clyde isthmus and the subsequent occupation of the southern tribes. The Romans then built their wall along the isthmus, though Coby highlights that what the Romans may have intended was not what they built. He works his way through the troubled history of the wall as it faced local resistance with too few troops to defend it properly. Coby concludes that the Antonine occupation was almost ‘textbook’ and that we have to view the occupation as a whole, not just the wall. After considering the forces involved and the purpose of the wall, Coby speculates on the Roman withdrawal to the Hadrian’s Wall line and how that worked. He decides that the retreat was ultimately a sign of strategic failure, but the whole episode was still evidence of Roman strategic planning.
In Part 2, Coby explains his methodology. He notes that there has been little effort in modern maps to distinguish types of forts and their usage. Coby’s ‘cartographic manifesto’ fixes that. The regularity of Roman fort-building practice helps him, and that extends to the Roman Army too. Having gathered his data for all the forts, Coby describes his analytical method (D-LAM), which is a database with standardised entries we can use for comparing forts. Coby takes that a step further to create Strength Factors based on fort sizes and troop strengths. Every fort, therefore, is mapped as accurately as possible, revealing connections from which, in conjunction with a wide range of ‘context tools’, we can derive Roman strategies. Thus, in his conclusions, Coby agrees with Edward Luttwak’s grand strategy thesis for the Roman Empire, at least in Britain. From his test cases, however, Coby discerns a pattern of tactical victories and strategic defeats caused primarily by overstretched Roman resources. He closes with an interesting aside on where readers can visit some of the main sites mentioned in the text.
Paul Coby has written a thought-provoking book, which is well supported by copious diagrams, maps, and tables. His effort to codify the archaeology of the various campaigns and make that synchronise with the available history is notable, and it is a method worth applying to other parts of the Roman empire. Coby’s deployment analysis charts and typology diagrams invite interpretation and bolster his own. Coby also draws useful analyses from other empires and colonial campaigns, most notably Britain’s Victorian empire. What the reader will gain from this approach, however, might well depend on how much they favour Luttwak’s grand strategy thesis for Roman conquests, and some of Coby’s conclusions contain more than a hint of teleological reasoning. While he acknowledges the speculative nature of many of his arguments, Coby does not enter into discussions with alternative interpretations, and that is sometimes disappointing. A cynical or hostile reader will pick apart Coby’s uncertainties and will note his admission on one theory as a ‘hypothesis built on assumption and interpolation’. Nevertheless, Coby’s approach may be a valuable tool, and students of Roman Britain will gain much from adding it to their own research.

When Worlds Collide

When Worlds Collide

Cameron Colby, Jamestown (Osprey, 2024)
For some of the Indian tribes along the James River in what would become Virginia, the arrival of English ships in April 1607 meant little more than a new neighbour to accommodate and bargain with; for others, they were a threat to be destroyed. The first Englishmen came to exploit the land and local tribes then return to England wealthy men. That conflict of interest led to raids, skirmishes, open warfare, and two massacres along with other atrocities. Cameron Colby surveys those opening decades in Anglo-Indian affairs.
Colby begins with the English poking around in the New World in the late 16th Century before building Jamestown in 1607. Awaiting them was the Powhatan confederacy, a group of local woodland indigenous tribes, living in a very different political and cultural landscape than the English. Misunderstandings were almost inevitable. From its inception, the Jamestown settlement was rife with internal dissension and mutual distrust with the Indians. Under the leadership of John Smith, however, relations with the Indians improved for a while, but that broke down in 1609 prompting raids and counter-raids. This escalated into war after Smith returned to England. The Indians besieged Jamestown almost causing its abandonment, but instead, the English took the offensive.
The often fragmented nature of politics and war in the Chesapeake region is evident from Colby’s discussion of the leaders on both sides. Subordination was a flexible, sometimes nominal, concept among the Indian tribes, and perhaps surprisingly, at Jamestown too. The ebb and flow of conflict and peace was, therefore, driven by the character of the leaders on both sides. Colby next considers organisation and tactics. The Powhatan Confederacy lacked warriors, and their main mode of warfare was raiding, though some larger engagements took place. For defence, they built palisades around their towns. The bow-and-arrow was their primary weapon with clubs and rudimentary swords used in close-quarters. The English were often battle-hardened veterans of European wars and brought their tactics and weaponry with them. That meant muskets, pikes, and armour, and cannons to defend their fortified settlements. The opposing sides also had different strategic goals. Not all the Powhatan tribes sought the total destruction of the English, preferring to keep them penned into the Jamestown area. The English initially wanted conquest and booty before settling in to defend what they had before subsequent expansion.
Serious organised violence began in 1609. Colby narrates the First Anglo-Powhatan War, which began with a misunderstanding and an atrocity followed by the destruction of a native village and then a war in which English fort building failed, John Smith was wounded and evacuated, and his successor made a mess of things. The Indians besieged Jamestown for six months. Then, on the point of abandonment, a relief fleet arrived, and the tide of war turned in favour of the English, though not without setbacks. A new English commander, Thomas Dale, arrived in 1611 to press the advantages bestowed by armour and muskets. By 1612, the exhausted Powhatan curtailed their war effort and diplomacy ruled, ending with the marriage of Pocahantas to John Rolfe in 1614. By 1622, English settlement had expanded, but the colonists had grown complacent. On 22 March 1622, nine tribes of Indians struck across the colony and massacred everyone they could find. When the news hit England, reinforcements were sent, while the survivors in the colony counterattacked. Reorganised and regalvanised, the English turned the tide again until both sides were exhausted and a standoff ensued, though peace was not established fully until 1632. War erupted again in 1644, but by 1646, the English had finally pushed out the Indian tribes in the region. Colby concludes with a brief description of the area today with its ‘historic triangle’ of museums and sites.
Jamestown 1622 is one of the longer Osprey books you will read in the Campaign series format. Cameron Colby has a lot of ground to cover though for a complex series of engagements driven by misunderstandings between cultures that barely had anything in common – the longer than usual bibliography attests to that. Colby succeeds admirably for a survey such as this. Moreover, he balances the history by starting with the Powhatans in each section, steering away from the traditional Anglocentric narratives. He is ably supported by some excellent maps and artwork by Marco Capparoni. Students of Early Colonial America will undoubtedly enjoy this book, as will military history readers, wargamers, and anyone else in search of a fascinating story from the foundational period in Anglo-American history.