Pertinax went on to govern a number of provinces and, late in his career, began holding some of the civil posts normal for a senator. Apart from a temporary fall from grace early in Commodus' reign, he continued to flourish and was one of the few intimates of Marcus Aurelius to survive his son's reign. By 193 there seems to have been little objection to his becoming emperor from his fellow senators, including those who had once sneered at him as the son of a freedman. From the beginning the new emperor made a public effort to break with the recent past and return to the style of rule of Marcus Aurelius. A public auction was held, selling off the decadent luxuries from Commodus' palace, including the male and female slaves who had pandered to his sexual needs or his perverse sense of humour. Gossips claimed that Pertinax secretly arranged to rebuy and keep some of these for himself.
Yet some of his attempts to erase the corruption of his predecessor and his ministers upset those who had done well under the old regime. Of more concern was a growing discontent amongst the praetorian guard, who resented the new stricter discipline and feared that even tighter controls might be imposed in due course. Pertinax was an experienced soldier and had something of a reputation as a martinet. Half of the cash donative promised to the guardsmen was paid from the profits of the auction, but the emperor made the mistake of boasting in a public speech that he had paid the soldiers fully, giving them as much as Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus on their accession. This was untrue, for they had given 20,000 sesterces per man. In the first weeks of his reign, elements within the guard twice tried to proclaim an alternative emperor. Order was quickly restored in each case, and Pertinax kept his promise never to put to death a senator by not punishing the men put forward. Yet he did order the execution of a number of the soldiers, which only added to the resentment of their comrades.'
On the morning of 28 March between 20o and 300 guardsmen marched from their camp to the palace on the Palatine Hill. They were not part of the normal changeover of sentries, but the palace staff admitted them immediately for many of them still had fond memories of Commodus. Aemilius Laetus covered his head with a hood and made himself scarce rather than confront the mutinous troops. Only the freedman Eclectus stood by the new emperor. Pertinax could have met force with force, summoning the equites singulares Augusti, the imperial guard cavalry whose record of loyalty to each emperor was unblemished and who were based nearby, separate from the praetorians. Instead, he decided to confront the mutineers, hoping to shame them back to duty. Dio thought his decision brave, but foolish. For a moment the guardsmen were overawed, until one broke the spell and slashed at the ageing emperor. Eclectus struck down two soldiers before he, too, was hacked to pieces. Pertinax had reigned as emperor for just eighty-seven days.'°
By this time Laetus had returned to the camp and regained a measure of control over the praetorians - some even accused him of having been behind the murder. He was now approached by Pertinax's father-in-law, who currently held the prestigious administrative post of urban prefect and wanted to be named emperor. The officers of the guard were willing to listen, but were also nervous that a relative might choose to avenge his murdered predecessor. Two of them went down to the Forum and found an alternative candidate, the emperor's consular colleague Didius Julianus. The latter processed up to the praetorian camp accompanied by his attendants, but could not at first gain admission. From outside the gate he gestured up to the men on the ramparts, indicating with his fingers the size of the donative he was willing to pay. Eventually he was admitted, and men shuttled back and forth between the two bidders. Julianus won the contest by promising to give 25,000 sesterces to each guardsman. With all such donatives to secure loyalty, it is important to remember that centurions probably received ten times as much and more senior officers even larger sums. If the guardsmen did well, their commanders, and most of all their two prefects, stood to become very wealthy indeed."
With the praetorian guard behind him, Julianus was duly recognised as emperor by the Senate and granted the imperial powers by formal decree. He was a reasonably distinguished senator, but he could not escape the stigma of having so blatantly bought the empire. On his first appearance he was mobbed by a crowd and there were then protests in the Circus Maximus. Rome itself could be held in check by the armed might of the praetorians, but this was not true of the rest of the empire. As news of the shameful `auction' spread, the governors of the three provinces with the strongest military garrisons - Britain, Upper Pannonia on the Danube and Syria - refused to recognise Julianus and claimed the throne for themselves. The fate of the empire would be decided by the army for the first time since Nero's death in 68 had led to civil war.'2
A wall around the provinces: The Roman Army
The Roman army was the largest and most disciplined fighting force before the modern era, but it was not especially large in comparison to the size of the empire. At its core were the thirty legions, recruited from Roman citizens and each consisting of around 5,000-5,500 men at full strength. A legion was divided into ten cohorts, which were usually 480 strong, apart from the first cohort, which numbered Boo. The legions were supported by auxiliaries, recruited mainly from non-citizens. These were not organised at any level higher than the cohort or ala - the name given to the similarly sized regiments of cavalry. There may have been somewhat more auxiliaries than legionaries by the end of the second century. In addition there was the navy, which was very active patrolling the sea lanes and protecting merchant trade from piracy. Rome was garrisoned by the praetorians - at nine cohorts of Boo men apiece, equivalent to a strong legion - and the singulares, as well as the paramilitary urban cohorts and the vigiles, who acted as firemen and night police. All told, the empire's armed forces numbered some 350,000- 375,000 men, a rise of no more than Io-15 per cent from the days of Augustus. This at least was its strength on paper. In reality, like most armies throughout history, many units were more or less under strength for much of the time. Even taking the highest theoretical figure for the number of men in uniform and the very lowest estimate for the empire's population, there were more than 130 civilians for every soldier.
Large parts of the empire rarely saw a soldier, and never an army. The overwhelming bulk of the army was stationed near the frontiers in stonebuilt bases, each surrounded by its own civilian settlement. In the eastern provinces the pattern was different, with troops in Syria, Judaea and Egypt being stationed in or near the big cities of the region, partly to control their volatile populations. The army was by far the largest source of manpower available to the emperor, so small detachments of soldiers were found dotted throughout the provinces acting as administrators, policemen, traffic regulators and engineers. There were also the frumentarii, or `grain-men', troops responsible for ensuring that the soldiers were supplied with the huge quantities of food needed every day. The complex network of agents required to perform this had expanded its role and come to provide a source of intelligence reports for the emperor, spying on soldiers and civilians alike."
Yet, on the whole, the army lived a separate life away from mainstream civilian society. Citizen legionaries and non-citizen auxiliaries were alike long-service professionals who joined up for twenty-five years. The army preferred volunteers, but conscription was also employed when necessary. Marcus Aurelius enrolled gladiators and other freed slaves during the crisis following the plague, but this was exceptional. However, the levies mentioned in our sources may sometimes have been little more than a press-gang. Legionaries received 1,200 sesterces a year - in contrast, praetorians had an annual salary of 4,000 sesterces and only had to serve for sixteen years.
Pay had remained static since the end of the first century, so that it is probable that its value in real terms had declined. It had never been especially generous and was comparable to the daily rate received by an agricultural labourer, with the distinction that army pay was guaranteed year in, year out. This was set against the hardship and risks of a soldier's life, especially when war broke out. Even units statione
d in the most peaceful of provinces were likely to experience a major campaign at least once during the twenty-five years of a man's service. Elsewhere warfare was far more frequent. Even peacetime service was not without its hazards. Surviving unit rosters mention soldiers who drowned, were killed by bandits or ended up sick in hospital for one reason or another. Letters written by convalescent soldiers in Egypt mention being hit by a missile while quelling a riot, as well as a bad bout of food poisoning.14
All but the smallest military outposts had a bath house and hospital, probably making a soldier's life healthier than that of poor civilians. This did not all come free - a man's pay was subject to deductions for food, clothing and equipment, not to mention contributions to the cost of festivals and the burial club, which would deal with his remains if he died during service. In addition the soldier was fed a reasonably balanced diet - which included meat, in spite of the persistent myth that legionaries were vegetarian - and for most of his service was accommodated in a stone-built barrack block with a tiled roof, eight men sharing a pair of rooms. Conditions were crowded, but no more so than the insulae of the cities - few in the ancient world enjoyed as much private space as we are used to today. If a man survived to be honourably discharged, he was rewarded.
Legionaries received either a plot of farmland or a cash bounty, while auxiliaries were granted citizenship. Yet there were other disadvantages to balance against this. Soldiers were legally barred from marriage and existing marriages were officially annulled on enlistment. Very many ignored this, taking a wife - often a local girl - and raising families. For a long time the unofficial liaisons of auxiliaries had been acknowledged when they were discharged, with any `wife' or children also receiving citizenship. This had been restricted in the middle of the second century. It was much harder for legionaries to gain legal recognition of their children, and so permit them to inherit. Several emperors legislated to assist this, but the evidence from papyri suggests that retired soldiers and their descendants often had to fight hard to benefit from these decrees in practice."
An educated soldier stood a good chance of promotion, especially if he had influential friends to provide him with a letter of recommendation. A letter survives written by a soldier who joined a legion in Egypt in 107 and, thanks to his connections, was quickly made a clerk. He gleefully told his father that he had only light duties while his fellow recruits were outside breaking rocks. It is hard to know how many recruits to the army were literate, given that we know so little about standards of literacy in the wider population, but they were probably a minority. Discipline in the army was brutal, with floggings and executions being awarded for a range of offences. Leave was a privilege rather than a right, and this and other favours were all too often only available by bribing an officer.
Italians showed little enthusiasm for joining the legions after the first century, preferring the softer and better-paid life of the units stationed in Rome. Some men doubtless joined the ranks of the army for the best of reasons, fulfilling the military theorists' ideal for a recruit. Such high quality recruits may have been especially common in the auxilia, many coming from societies that still greatly admired the warrior virtues. It was also common for sons of soldiers to enlist, often having grown up in and around army bases, and the army welcomed such recruits. Denied legal status, these men had their place of birth listed as `in the camp' (in castris). Yet the majority of recruits, especially to the legions, may well have joined because they had little choice and the army would feed, clothe and pay them regularly. One emperor complained that only vagrants were attracted to the legions. It is also notable that only those guilty of the most serious crimes were barred from military service."
If many soldiers were the failures of civilian life, then this will have reinforced the real sense of the unit as their home. Each legion had a number - the sequence was not logical and there were several First, Second and Third legions - and a name, often supplemented by additional titles and honours. Auxiliary units also had their titles, and all regiments of the army had a strong sense of their own identity. Commanders often encouraged different units to compete with each other and at times the rivalry led to brawling. Unit pride was an important part of military effectiveness, as was the encouragement of individual bravery. Conspicuous courage was rewarded by decorations and status, as well as sometimes promotion and wealth. Like pay, all such medals were nominally awarded by the emperor, whether or not he was physically present. Similarly, recruits joining the army took an oath of loyalty to the emperor and the state. This was regularly renewed. Each regiment also had the imagines, images of the emperor and his immediate family, which were kept with the unit's standards in a shrine within the headquarters building.'
The emperor controlled the army and took every care to remind the soldiers of their personal loyalty to him. When he did visit a base or lead an army on campaign, he would talk to a unit as `his' legion or cohort. Yet the army was spread over a wide area and most soldiers would never even see their commander-in-chief, so inevitably others exercised day-to-day control. Senators provided the most senior officers. As part of his career a senator in his late teens or early twenties normally spent one to three years as the senior tribune and secondin-command of a legion. Later, at about thirty, he would become a legion's commander (legatus legionis) for a similar period of time. Finally, he would become the legate in charge of a province and its army, a legatus Augusti. A privileged handful followed this with a second governorship in charge of one of the three most important military provinces. Each contained three legions and as many auxiliaries. Three years was the average term for a governor in any province, but exceptions were made. Avidius Cassius had been in Syria for much longer than this, but his abortive coup was an indication of the potential threat such long-term commands presented.
Equestrians provided the army with the bulk of its other senior officers. A normal equestrian career involved a man being appointed as prefect in charge of an auxiliary cohort. This would be followed by a spell as one of the five junior equestrian tribunes in each legion and then the command of a cavalry ala. Successful men moved on to administrative and financial posts as imperial procurators, and perhaps the governorship of one of the smaller equestrian provinces. Equites also commanded the units in Rome, and control of the praetorians was normally shared between two prefects with equal power. Equestrian provinces usually did not include substantial forces because the senatorial legate of a legion could not be made subordinate to an equestrian. Egypt was an exception and in this province the governor and the commanders of the two legions were equestrian prefects. No emperor wanted to trust another senator with control of an area so vital for the grain supply to Rome.18
The centurions were the backbone of the army. This was a grade of officer rather than a specific rank. The more junior commanded a century, of which there were six to a cohort, each with a nominal strength of eighty (never Ioo in this period). The senior centurion of the six commanded a legionary cohort. Most important of all was the primus pilus, the commander of the first cohort, who immediately became an equestrian after this post. All centurions were paid many times the salary of an ordinary soldier and needed a good standard of education. Some reached the post after joining the army in the ranks, but it is a mistake to think of them as akin to modern sergeant-majors. Rather more had been appointed directly to junior administrative or command posts before being commissioned. Others were directly appointed from civilian life without any prior military experience. Pertinax had initially wanted to become a centurion in this way, but his patron had been unable to secure him a commission, which gives a good indication of the status of these posts. It is equally revealing that some equestrians became centurions instead of following the more conventional career. As we have seen there was no single `middle class' in the Roman world. Yet there were many people of middling income, with a reasonable standard of education even if they fell short of the purity of language expected of the higher levels of the elite.
There is a very good chance that the majority of centurions were directly commissioned and came from this social level.'9
The rank and file were rarely posted from one unit to another, and usually spent their entire service with the same regiment. Many centurions also appear to have remained with the same unit for long periods, although others are known to have served in a succession of different legions, sometimes in widely separated provinces. The more senior ranks moved around far more, and it was rare for a senator to serve more than once in the same province. Pertinax, during his long and unorthodox career as first equestrian and then a senatorial officer, served on all the major frontier zones of the empire apart from North Africa. The Romans did not prize specialists as highly as modern institutions, especially when it came to making appointments to senior posts. As importantly, the emperors were keen to prevent too close a bond developing between commanders and soldiers through long service together. The Republic had been destroyed and Augustus had created the Principate in wars fought between armies more loyal to their generals than the state. On the whole the system he created worked well, and the army remained loyal for the best part of two centuries. It was only when a dynasty ended completely that there was the prospect of legion fighting legion. When it did break down the initiative for rebellion tended to come from the top, and most of all the senatorial governors. A key role was also played by other officers, and especially the centurions."
An Emperor from Africa
The army of Upper Pannonia lay nearest to Italy, and the legate of the province, Lucius Septimius Severus, did not fail to capitalise on the advantage this gave him. He had served under Pertinax earlier in his career and it may be that he was also party to the original conspiracy against Commodus. It was especially convenient that nearby Lower Moesia with its two legions was currently controlled by his brother. Severus marched quickly to Italy; he and his bodyguard - probably the governor's singulares, picked cavalrymen chosen from the auxiliary alae in his province - are said not even to have taken off their armour in their brief stops to sleep. There was no serious resistance, for Julianus did not have a proper army. A desperate attempt to train elephants taken from the games to carry towers and fighting crewmen in the tradition of classical warfare ended in absurd failure when the creatures refused to carry these unfamiliar burdens. Dio and other senators were highly amused. Julianus grew desperate and had Laetus and Marcia murdered, but soon even the purchased loyalty of the praetorians was withdrawn. Abandoned by everyone, he was killed in the palace by a guardsman. Severus arrived and in a spectacular display of power paraded his army through the city; the Senate duly proclaimed him emperor. Word was sent for the praetorians to arrest the murderers of Pertinax and then to parade without weapons or armour. Severus surrounded them with his own legionaries and then harangued them for their treachery. The murderers were executed, and the remainder dishonourably discharged from service and banned from coming within Ioo miles of Rome. New praetorian cohorts were formed from the pick of Severus' own legionaries."
How Rome Fell: Death of a Superpower Page 8
