Agricola’s Campaign in Mona (Anglesey)

Mona had haunted Roman governors. Its groves and chiefs were a symbol and a refuge, a place the army had struck before and left unconquered in the chaos of 60/61. Agricola returned with intent to close the book. Tacitus folds the island into the early sequence of his campaigns, implying that the move was both strategic and psychological [1].

The approach was a choreography of land and sea. The Menai Strait—fast tides, treacherous channels—had undone careless attackers. Agricola brought the fleet. Oars beat time; transports edged into eddies under watchful eyes. Onshore, cohorts stacked their shields, their bronze fittings reflecting a cold, pewter light. The horns’ calls bounced off stone and water.

Tacitus does not linger on the fight’s details in this phase. The outcome matters: Mona was subdued, its role as a rebel reserve neutralized. Removing the island from the chessboard freed resources and attention for the longer, more uncertain push into the north, where distances lengthened and the coastline became a partner rather than an enemy [1][16].

The campaign’s practical consequence was to reopen secure use of the western routes, linking Deva (Chester) and beyond to the northern efforts. Strategically, it signaled that the lessons of the revolt had been learned: no sanctuaries, no soft underbelly.

With Mona quiet, Agricola turned his gaze and his standards toward lands beyond the Tyne and Forth. The slate-gray water of the Menai fell behind; the sea-green of the northern firths beckoned [16].