seangabb
Published 28 Dec 2024This is the eighth video in my series on Everyday Life in the Roman Empire. In this, I wander about at the beginning, with talk of poetry and philosophy, before realising that the real theme is the extent of ancient literacy. The whole of the remainder is given over to this, and how it enabled a literary civilisation wholly different from our own.
Introduction – 00:00:00
Our perceptions of culture in the Ancient world – 00:01:40
Virgil – 00:03:45
Catullus – 00:05:17
Philosophy in Rome – 00:06:23
The Romans and Stoicism – 00:08:40
The Romans and Epicureanism – 00:10:27
Pretty silver things from Roman Britain – 00:16:25
Broad-based cultural participation in the Ancient World? – 00:19:26
The Ancient World: a largely illiterate civilisation (no spectacles) – 00:28:27
The Ancient World: a largely illiterate civilisation (expensive education, expensive books) – 00:35:40
The Ancient World: a largely illiterate civilisation (economic imperatives) – 00:42:35
The Ancient World: a largely illiterate civilisation (expensive writing materials) – 00:44:44
The Ancient World: a largely illiterate civilisation (difficulties of reading) – 00:49:16
The Ancient memory – 00:53:14
The primacy of oral communication – 00:55:23
The Ancient World: a largely illiterate civilisation (the Second Sophistic and linguistic change) – 00:59:53
Bibliography – 01:08:10
(more…)
May 4, 2025
Everyday Life in the Roman Empire – Culture and Literacy in the Roman Empire
April 18, 2025
QotD: Literature in (and after) the late Western Roman Empire
… But surely the barbarians burned all of the libraries, right? Or the church, bent on creating a “Christian dark age” tore up all of the books?
Well, no.
Here I think the problem is the baseline we assess this period against. Most people are generally aware that the Greeks and Romans wrote a lot of things and that we have relatively few of them. Even if we confine ourselves only to very successful, famous Greek and Roman literature, we still only have perhaps a low single-digit percentage of it, possibly only a fraction of a percent of it. In our post-printing-press and now post-internet world, famous works of literature do not simply vanish, generally and it is intuitive to assume that all of these lost works must have been the result of some catastrophe or intentional sabotage.
I am regularly, for instance, asked how I feel about the burning of the Library of Alexandria. The answer is … not very much. The library burned more than once and by the time it did it was no longer the epicenter of learning in the Mediterranean world. Instead, the library slowly declined as it became less unique because other libraries amassed considerable collections. There was no great, tragic moment where countless works were all lost in an instant. That’s not how the chain of transmission breaks. Because a break in the chain of transmission requires no catastrophe – it merely requires neglect.
The literature of the Greeks and Romans (and the rest of the ancient iron age Mediterranean) were largely written on papyrus paper, arranged into scrolls. The problem here is that papyrus is quite vulnerable to moisture and decay; in the prevailing conditions in much of Europe papyrus might only last a few decades. Ancient papyri really only survive to the present in areas of hard desert (like Egypt, conveniently), but even in antiquity, books written on papyrus would have been constantly wearing out and needing to be replaced.
Consequently, it didn’t require anyone going out and destroying books to cause a break in the chain of transmission: all that needed to happen was for the copying to stop, even fairly briefly. Fortunately for everyone, Late Antiquity was bringing with it a new writing material, parchment, and a new way of putting it together, the codex or book. The transition from papyrus to parchment begins in the fourth century, but some books are still being produced in papyrus in the 7th century, particularly in the Eastern Mediterranean. Whereas papyrus is a paper made of papyrus stalks pressed together, parchment is essentially a form of leather, cleaned, soaked in calcium lye and scraped very thin. The good news is that as a result, parchment lasts – I have read without difficulty from 1200 year old books written on parchment (via microfilm) and paged through 600 year old books with my own hands. Because making it requires animal hide, parchment was extremely expensive (and still is) but its durability is a huge boon to us because it means that works that got copied onto parchment during the early middle ages often survive on that parchment down to the present.
But of course that means that the moment of technological transition from short-lived papyrus to long-lasting parchment was always going to be the moment of loss in transition: works that made it to parchment would largely survive to the present, while works that were not copied in that fairly narrow window (occupying Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages) would be permanently lost. And that copying was no simple thing: it was expensive and slow. The materials were expensive, but producing a book also required highly trained scribes (often these were monks) who would hand copy, letter by letter, the text for hundreds of pages. And, for reasons we’ll talk about later in this series, the resources available for this kind of copying would hit an all-time-low during the period from the fifth to the seventh centuries – this was expensive work for poor societies to engage in.
And here it is worth thus stopping to note how exceptional a moment of preservation this period is. The literary tradition of Mediterranean antiquity represents the oldest literary tradition to survive in an unbroken line of transmission to the present (alongside Chinese literature). The literary traditions of the Bronze Age (c. 3000-1200 BC and the period directly before antiquity broadly construed) were all lost and had to be rediscovered, with stone and clay tablets recovered archaeologically and written languages reconstructed. The Greeks and Romans certainly made little effort to preserve the literature of those who went before them!
In that context, what is actually historically remarkable here is not that the people of Late Antiquity and the Early Middle Ages lost some books – books had always been being lost, since writing began – but that they saved some books. Never before had a literary tradition been saved in this way. Of course these early copyists didn’t always copy what we might like. Unsurprisingly, Christian monks copying books tended to copy a lot more religious texts (both scriptures but also patristic texts). Moreover, works that were seen as important for teaching good Latin (Cicero, Vergil, etc.) tended to get copied more as well, though this is nothing new; the role of the Iliad and the Odyssey in teaching Greek is probably why their manuscript traditions are so incredibly robust. In any event, far from destroying the literature of classical antiquity, it was the medieval Church itself that was the single institution most engaged in the preservation of it.
At the same time, writers in the fifth, sixth and seventh centuries did not stop writing (or stop reading). Much of the literature of this period was religious in nature, but that is no reason to dismiss it (far more of the literature of the Classical world was religious in nature than you likely think, by the by). St. Augustine of Hippo was writing during the fifth century; indeed his The City of God, one of the foundational works of Christian literature, was written in response to the news of the sack of Rome in 410. Isidore of Seville (560-636) was famous for his Etymologies, an encyclopedia of sorts which would form the foundation for much of medieval learning and which in its summaries preserves for us quite a lot of classical bits and bobs which would have otherwise been lost; he also invented the period, comma and colon. Pope Gregory I (540-604) was also a prolific writer, writing hundreds of letters, a collection of four books of dialogues, a life of St. Benedict, a book on the role of bishops, a commentary on the Book of Job and so on. The Rule of St. Benedict, since we’ve brought the fellow up, written in 516 established the foundation for western monasticism.
And while we’ve mostly left the East off for this post, we should also note that writing hardly stopped there. Near to my heart, the emperor Maurice (r. 582-602) wrote the Strategikon, an important and quite informative manual of war which presents, among other things, a fairly sophisticated vision of combined arms warfare. Roman law also survived in tremendous quantities; the emperor Theodosius II (r. 402-450) commissioned the creation of a streamlined law code compiling all of the disparate Roman laws into the Codex Theodosianus, issued in 439. Interestingly, Alaric II (r. 457-507), king of the Visigoths in much of post-Roman Spain would reissue the code as past of the law for his own kingdom in 506 as part of the Breviary of Alaric. Meanwhile, back at Constantinople, Justinian I (r. 527-565) commissioned an even more massive collection of laws, the Corpus Iuris Civilis, issued from 529 to 534 in four parts; a colossal achievement in legal scholarship, it is almost impossible to overstate how important the Corpus Iuris Civilis is for our knowledge of Roman law.
And it is not hard again to see how these sorts of literary projects represented a continuing legacy of Roman culture too (particularly the Roman culture of the third and fourth century), concerned with Roman law, Roman learning and the Roman religion, Christianity. And so when it comes to culture and literature, it seems that the change-and-continuity knight holds the field – there is quite a lot of evidence for the survival of elements of Roman culture in post-Roman western Europe, from language, to religion, to artwork and literature. Now we haven’t talked about social and economic structures (that’s part III), so one might argue we haven’t quite covered all of “culture” just yet, and it is necessary to note that this continuity was sometimes uneven. Nevertheless, the fall of Rome can hardly be said to have been the end of Roman culture.
Bret Devereaux, “Collections: Rome: Decline and Fall? Part I: Words”, A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry, 2022-01-14.
April 13, 2025
History Hit Expert BLEW My MIND On Ancient Roman History
Metatron
Published 14 Dec 2024Link to the original video
• Historian Answers Google’s Most Popul…
Pompaia, on the River Sarnus — a river which both takes the cargoes inland and sends them out to sea — is the port-town of Nola, Nuceria, and Acherrae.
Strabone, Geografia, IV, 81 – Factors in the Establishment of Pompeii. Let’s begin by well what we know. How did it all start? Like many cities of the classical world, Pompeii also has its founding myth: according to Servius, the city was supposedly founded by none other than the demigod Hercules, and its name would have originated from “a Pompa Herculis”, meaning “from the triumph of Hercules”. However, the most recent archaeological discoveries confirm a foundation dating back to around the 8th century BC by the Oscan people, an Italic tribe, corroborating what Strabo reported in his Geography. The Oscans were part of the large linguistic family of Umbro-Sabellian or Osco-Umbrian peoples, distinct from the Latins, who probably arrived in Italy in the 12th century BC. While some Hellenists have proposed that the etymology of Pompeii should be sought in the Greek Πεμπo (Pempo), meaning “to send”, due to the thriving commercial activity, the original linguistic root is likely this Oscan word “pumpè“, from which comes the archaic name Pumpàiia. The Oscan “pumpè“, analogous to the Greek “penta” and Latin “quinque“, means “five”, and most likely refers to a proto-urban reality formed by the progressive fusion of five distinct residential centers, five small Oscan villages that were scattered on the southern slopes of mount Vesuvius, next to the course of the Sarno river.
2. Natural resources: Volcanic areas often provide access to valuable resources like obsidian, sulfur, and various minerals used in ancient crafts and trade.
3. Lack of geological understanding: Ancient people didn’t fully understand the mechanisms of volcanic eruptions or their potential for catastrophic destruction. The last major eruption of Vesuvius before 79 AD was likely prehistoric, so there was no living memory of its danger.
4. Infrequent eruptions: Many volcanoes, including Vesuvius, can remain dormant for long periods. This can create a false sense of security among nearby populations.
5. Strategic location: Pompeii was located in a prime spot for trade, with access to the sea and inland routes. The benefits of this location may have outweighed perceived risks.
6. Religious and cultural significance: Volcanoes were often seen as sacred in ancient cultures, associated with deities or supernatural forces. This could make living near them culturally desirable.
7. Limited mobility: Ancient societies were less mobile than modern ones. Once established, it was difficult to relocate entire cities, even if dangers became apparent.
8. Economic investments: As cities grew and prospered, the economic and social costs of abandoning them became increasingly high.
9. Adaptation and mitigation: Over time, societies living near volcanoes often developed strategies to cope with minor volcanic activity, like earthquakes or ash falls.
10. Lack of alternatives: In some regions, volcanic areas might have been among the best available locations for settlement, despite the risks.
It’s worth noting that while the destruction of Pompeii was catastrophic, the city had thrived for centuries before the eruption of 79 AD. From the perspective of the ancient inhabitants, the benefits of their location likely seemed to outweigh the potential for a disaster that might never occur in their lifetimes. This balance of risk and reward in choosing settlement locations is not unique to ancient times. Even today, many major cities are located in areas prone to natural disasters, demonstrating that humans often prioritize immediate benefits over long-term, uncertain risks
#pompeii #ancientrome #documentary
April 6, 2025
The Last Pagan Temple in Egypt
Scenic Routes to the Past
Published 6 Dec 2024The Temple of Isis at Philae, on Egypt’s southern edge, survived until the reign of Justinian, long after every other temple had been shut down.
April 4, 2025
QotD: Nero’s persecution of the early Christians
Senators, of course, had hated it. The loss of Rome’s familiar sights to countryside had borne witness precisely to what they had always found most disorienting about Nero: his ability to dissolve the boundaries of everything that they had previously taken for granted. So it was that they had accused him of starting the fire deliberately, as a way of clearing a space for his building plans; and so it was that Nero, looking to shift the blame, had fixed on convenient scapegoats. These culprits, even by Nero’s own taboo-busting standards, embodied everything that decent citizens had always most dreaded about moral upheaval: the adherents of a sinister cult whose motivation was nothing less than, in the words of a Roman historian, “their hatred for the norms of human society”.
“Christians”, these deviants were called, after their founder, “Christus”, a criminal who had been crucified in Judaea some decades before, under a previous Caesar. Nero, ever fond of a spectacle, had displayed a vengefulness worthy of the Olympian gods. Some of the condemned, dressed in animal skins, had been torn to pieces by dogs. Others, lashed to crosses, had been smeared in pitch and used as torches to illumine the night. Nero, riding in his chariot, had mingled with the gawping crowds. Suetonius would include his persecution of the Christians in the list — a very short one — of the positives of his reign.
Among those put to death, so later tradition would record, was a man who in time would come to be viewed as the very keeper of the doors of heaven. In 1601, in a church that had originally been built on the site of the tomb where Nero’s two nurses and his first great love had buried him, a painting was installed that paid homage, not to the notorious Caesar, but to the outcast origins of the city’s Christian order.
The artist, a young man from Milan by the name of Caravaggio, had been commissioned to portray a crucifixion: not of Christ himself, but of his leading disciple. Peter, a fisherman who, according to the Gospels, had abandoned his boat and nets to follow Jesus, was said to have become the bishop of the very first Christians of Rome. Since his execution in the wake of the great fire, more than 200 men had held the bishopric: an office which brought with it a claim to primacy over the entire Church, and the honorary title of “Pappas” or “Father” — “Pope”.
Tom Holland, “When Christ conquered Caesar”, UnHerd, 2020-04-10.
March 31, 2025
QotD: The problem of defending the late Roman Empire
In particular, Roman forces could no longer be entirely sure they would possess escalation dominance in any given theater. Indeed, during the Crisis, with legions being peeled to fight endless internal wars between rival claimants had meant that major frontier problems might go under-resourced or even entirely unaddressed for years. While the reign of Diocletian (284-311) marked a return to Roman unity, quite a bit of damage had already been done and by the end of the third century we see changes in patterns of fortification that reflect that.
The changes seem fairly clearly to have been evolutionary, in part because many older legionary forts remained in use. Some of the first things we see are traditional “playing-card” forts but now with the neat rectangular shape disrupted by having the towers project out from the walls. The value of a projecting tower […] is that soldiers on the tower, because it projects outward, can direct missiles (arrows, javelins, slings, etc) down the length of the wall, engaging enemies who might be trying to scale the wall or breach it. Of course a fortress that is now being designed to resist enemies scaling or breaching large stone walls is no longer worried about a raid but rather being designed to potentially withstand a serious assault or even a siege. Defensive ditches also multiply in this period and increase in width, often exceeding 25ft in width and flat-bottomed; the design consideration here is probably not to stop a quick raid anymore but to create an obstacle to an enemy moving rams or towers (think back to our Assyrians!) close to the walls.
Over time, forts also tended to abandon the “playing-card” proportions and instead favor circular or square shapes (minimizing perimeter-to-defend for a given internal area). And while even the original Roman marching camps had been designed with a concern to make it hard for an enemy to fire missiles into the camp – using the trench to keep them out of range and keeping an interval (literally the intervallum, the “inside the wall”) between the vallum and the buildings so that any arrows or javelins sent over the walls would land in this empty space – later Roman fortresses intensify these measures; we even see fortresses like the one at Visegrád incorporate its internal structures into the walls themselves, a measure to make the troops within less vulnerable to missile fire in a siege; this style becomes increasingly common in the mid-fourth century. Finally, by the fifth century we start to see the sites of Roman forts changing too, especially in the western part of the empire, with forts moving from low-land positions along major roadways (for rapid response) to hilltop sites that were less convenient for movement but easier to defend (in the East, a lot of the focus shifts to key heavily fortified cities – essentially fortress cities – like Nisibis (modern Nusaybin), Amida, Singara and Dara.
In short, Roman forts in this late period are being designed with the ability to resist either serious assaults or prolonged sieges. This in part reflects a lack of confidence that the Romans could always count on being able to immediately force a field battle they could win; while Roman armies retained the edge through most of this period, the main field armies were increasingly concentrated around the emperors and so might be many days, weeks or even months away when an incursion occurred; local forces had to respond elastically to delay the incursion much longer than before until that army could arrive.
Now of course the downside to a focus like this on single-site defense (“point defense” in its most basic form) is that the enemy army is given much more freedom to move around the countryside and wreck things, where they would have been engaged in the older observe-channel-respond defense system much more quickly (Luttwak terms this “preclusive” defense, but it isn’t quite that preclusive; the frontier is never a hard border). But of course the entire reason you are doing this is that the shifting security situation means you can no longer be confident in winning the decisive engagement that the observe-channel-respond defense system is designed for; you need to delay longer to concentrate forces more significantly to get a favorable outcome. Single-site defenses can do this for reasons we’ve actually already discussed: because the army in the fort remains an active threat, the enemy cannot generally just bypass them without compromising their own logistics, either their supply lines or foraging ability. Consequently, while some forts can by bypassed, they cannot all be bypassed (a lesson, in fact, that the emperor Julian would fail to learn, leading to disaster for his army and his own death).
And so the enemy, while they can damage the immediate environment, cannot proceed out of the frontier zone (and into the true interior) without taking some of these forts, which in turn will slow them down long enough for a major field army to arrive and in theory offer battle on favorable terms.
While it is easy to discount these shifts as just part of the failure of the Roman Empire (and we’ll come back to this idea, often presented in the form of a misquotation of George S. Patton that “fixed fortifications are monuments to the stupidity of man” though what he actually said was merely that the Maginot line was such), they contributed meaningfully to the Roman ability to hold on to a vast empire in an increasingly more challenging security environment. At pretty much all stages of its development, Roman fortification on the frontiers was designed to allow the Romans to maintain their territorial control with an economy of force precisely because the Roman Empire could not afford to maintain overwhelming force everywhere on its vast perimeter. Rome wasn’t alone in deploying that kind of defensive philosophy; at any given point the northern frontier of China was guarded on much the same principles: the need to hold a frontier line with an economy of force because no state can afford to have overwhelming force everywhere. In both cases, the need for defense was motivated in no small [part] by the impossibility of further offensive; in the Roman case, further extension of the limes would simply create more territory to defend without actually creating more revenue with which to defend it (this is why the Roman acquisition of Dacia and much of Britain were likely ill-conceived, but then both operations were politically motivated in no small part) while in the Chinese case, the logistics of the steppe largely prohibited further expansion.
This Roman system, combining local single-site defenses (which included a proliferation of walled towns as the population centers of the western empire frantically rebuilt their walls) with concentrated mobile field armies really only began to fail after the Battle of Adrianople (378), where to be clear the fortification system worked fine, the error came from the emperor Valens’ stupid decision to attack before his co-emperor Gratian could arrive with reinforcements (Valens was eager to get all of the credit and so he takes all of the blame).
Bret Devereaux, “Collections: Fortification, Part II: Romans Playing Cards”, A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry, 2021-11-12.
March 29, 2025
The Life of Plutarch
MoAn Inc.
Published 19 Sept 2024#AncientHistory #AncientGreece #Plutarch
Donate Here: https://www.ko-fi.com/moaninc
March 20, 2025
Everyday Life in the Roman Empire – Demography, Income, Life Expectancy
seangabb
Published 12 Sept 2024Part seven in a series on Everyday Life in the Roman Empire, this lecture discusses demography and life chances during the Imperial period. Here is what it covers:
Introduction – 00:00:00
Our Statistical Civilisation – 00:00:24
Ancient “Statistics” – 00:08:05
How Many Roman Citizens? – 00:18:04
Population of the Empire – 00:21:36
City Populations – 00:27:45
Average Incomes – 00:36:27
Life Expectancy – 00:35:37
Country Life – 00:52:06
Population of Rome – 00:54:39
Feeding Rome – 00:57:40
Roman Water Supply – 01:00:44
Bathing and Sanitation – 01:04:16
Hygienic Value – 01:04:16
Bibliography – 01:06:17
(more…)
March 18, 2025
Ancient Roman Cheesecake – Savillum
Tasting History with Max Miller
Published 5 Nov 2024Ancient Roman cheesecake drizzled with honey and sprinkled with poppy seeds
City/Region: Rome
Time Period: 2nd Century BCAncient Romans took their feasting very seriously. If you had the money, a feast could be made up of several courses, starting with hors d’oeuvres and aperitifs and ending with sweet dishes. These dessert-type foods were sweetened with fruit or honey, like this cheesecake.
This savillum is very dense, and also quite flavorful and tasty. With the amount of honey I used, it’s not as sweet as a modern cheesecake, but you can see how it has evolved over the last two thousand years. What type of cheese you use will make a big difference in the flavor of your cheesecake. I used ricotta, and my cheesecake was smooth and mild with a prominent honey flavor, but if you choose a stronger flavored cheese, I think it’ll be the main note coming through.
Make the savillum this way. Take half a pound of flour and two and a half pounds of cheese, and mix together as for the libum. Add 1/4 pound of honey and 1 egg. Grease an earthenware dish with oil. When you have mixed the ingredients well, pour into the dish and cover it with an earthenware lid. See that you cook it well in the middle, where it is thickest. When it is cooked, remove the dish, coat with honey, sprinkle with poppy seeds, and put it back beneath the lid for a short while, then remove from the fire. Serve it in the dish with a spoon.
— De Agri Cultura by Marcus Porcius Cato, 2nd Century BC
February 28, 2025
Everyday Life in the Roman Empire – An Empire of Peoples
seangabb
Published 28 Aug 2024The Roman Empire had a geographical logic, but was an endlessly diverse patchwork of linguistic, ethnic and religious groups. In this lecture, Sean Gabb describes the diversity:
Geographical Logic – 00:00:00
Linguistic Diversity – 00:06:57
Italy – 00:12:46
Greece – 00:17:23
Greeks and Romans – 00:21:01
Egypt – 00:28:24
Greeks, Romans, Egyptians – 00:33:00
North Africa – 00:37:27
The Jews – 00:41:20
Greeks, Romans, Jews – 00:44:10
Gaul – 00:50:36
Britain – 00:52:26
Greeks, Romans, Britons – 00:54:58
The East – 00:59:22
Bibliography – 01:01:20
(more…)
February 10, 2025
Everyday Life in the Roman Empire – The Position of Women
seangabb
Published 11 Sept 2024Part five in a series on Everyday Life in the Roman Empire, this lecture discusses the position of women during the Imperial period. Here is what it covers:
Introduction – 00:00:00
Limited Rights for the Lower Classes (95 per cent) – 00:02:02
Rome: The Patria Potestas – 00:07:02
Rome: Marriage – 00:13:05
Rome: Education of Girls – 00:18:40
Rome: Woman and Business – 00:22:11
Rome: Women and Politics – 00:30:07
Rome: Women Gladiators? – 00:33:30
The Empresses – 00:35:20
Agrippina the Younger – 00:39:36
Women: Rome and Athens Compared – 00:41:38
Evidence from Egypt – 00:46:22
Women Priests and Bishops in the Early Church? – 00:53:43
Women in Britain – 01:02:00
Bibliography – 01:05:20
(more…)
February 3, 2025
Roman Senior Army Officers and their careers
Adrian Goldsworthy. Historian and Novelist
Published 1 Oct 2024Today’s question is about the career paths for senatorial and equestrian officers in the Roman army. This is a big theme, so take this as an introduction. We will return to this topic in the future.
February 2, 2025
Hierapolis: a city encased in stone
Scenic Routes to the Past
Published 18 Oct 2024Hierapolis — modern Pamukkale, Turkey — was built over hot springs. During the Middle Ages, these encased much of the city in gleaming travertine.
See my upcoming trips to Turkey and other historical destinations: https://trovatrip.com/host/profiles/g…
January 16, 2025
Augustus and the Roman Army – the first emperor and the creation of the professional army
Adrian Goldsworthy. Historian and Novelist
Published 7 Aug 2024We take a look at Caesar Augustus, the first emperor (or princeps) of Rome and the great nephew of Julius Caesar. Ancient sources — and Shakespeare and Hollywood — depict him as politician and no soldier in contrast to Mark Antony. How true is this? More importantly, how did the man who created the imperial system and re-shaped society change the Roman army?
This video is based on a talk I gave in 2014 at the Roman Legionary Museum in Caerleon — a museum and adjacent sites, well worth a visit for anyone in or near South Wales.
December 30, 2024
QotD: The auxilia troops of the Imperial Roman armies
But almost immediately we see the emergence of a new system for incorporating non-Romans, this time provincial non-Romans, into the Roman army. These troops, called auxilia (literally, “helpers”) first appear in the Civil Wars, particularly with Caesar‘s heavy reliance on Gallic cavalry to support his legions (which at this time seem not to have featured their own integrated cavalry support, as they had earlier in the republic and as they would later in the empire). The system is at this point very ad hoc and the auxiliaries here are a fairly small part of Roman armies. But when Augustus sets out to institutionalize and stabilize the Roman army after the Battle of Actium (31BC) and the end of the civil wars, the auxilia emerge as a permanent, institutional part of the Roman army. Clearly, they were vastly expanded; by 23 AD they made up half of the total strength of the Roman army (Tac. Ann. 4.5) a rough equivalence that seems to persist at least as far as the Constitutio Antoniniana in 212.
Of course it was no particular new thing for the Romans to attempt to use their imperial subjects as part of their army. The Achaemenid army had incorporated a bewildering array of subject peoples with their own distinctive fighting styles, a fact that Achaemenid rulers liked to commemorate […] The Seleucid army at Magnesia (189) which the Romans defeated also had numerous non-Macedonian supporting troops: Cappadocians, Galatians, Carians, Cilicians, Illyrians, Dahae, Mysians, Arabs, Cyrtians and Elamites. At Raphia (217) the Ptolemaic army incorporated Egyptian troops into the phalanx for the first time, but also included Cretans, Greek mercenaries, Thracians, Gauls and Libyans, inter alia. Most empires try to do this.
The difference here is the relative performance that Rome gets out of these subject-troops (both the socii and the auxilia). Take those examples. Quite a number of the ethnicities on Xerxes monument both served in the armies of Darius III fighting against Alexander but then swiftly switched sides to Alexander after he won the battles – the Ionians, Egypt, and Babylon greeted Alexander as a liberator (at least initially) which is part of why the Achaemenid Empire could crumble so fast so long as Alexander kept winning battles. Apart from Tyre and Gaza, the tough sieges and guerilla resistance didn’t start until he reached the Persian homeland. The auxiliaries in the Seleucid army at Magnesia famously fell apart under pressure, whereas the Roman socii stuck in the fight as well as the legions; our sources give us no sense at any point that the socii were ever meaningfully weaker fighters than the legions (if anything, Livy sometimes represents them as more spirited, though he has an agenda here, as discussed). And the Ptolemaic decision to arm their Egyptian troops in the Macedonian manner won the battle (turns out, Egyptians could fight just as well as Greeks and Macedonians with the right organization and training) but their subsequent apparent decision not to pay or respect those troops as well as their Macedonians seems to have led quite directly to the “Great Revolt” which crippled the kingdom (there is some scholarly argument about this last point, but while I think Polybius’ pro-Greek, anti-Egyptian bias creeps in to his analysis, he is fundamentally right to see the connection (Plb. 5.107). Polybius thinks it was foolish to arm non-Greeks, but the solution here to saving the Ptolemaic kingdom would have been arming the Egyptians and then incorporating them into the system of rule rather than attempting to keep up the ethnic hierarchy with a now-armed, angry and underpaid underclass. The Greek-speakers-only-club system of Ptolemaic rule was unsustainable in either case, especially with Rome on the horizon).
By contrast, the auxilia were mostly very reliable. The one major exception comes from 69 AD – the “Year of the Four Emperors” to give some sense of its chaos – when the Batavian chieftain Julius Civilis (himself an auxiliary veteran and a Roman citizen) revolted and brought one ala and eight cohorts drawn from the Batavi (probably around 4,500 men or so) with him, out of an empire-wide total of c. 150,000 auxilia (so maybe something like 3.3% of the total auxilia). Indeed, the legions had worse mutinies – the mutiny on the Rhine (Tac. Ann. 1.16ff in 14AD) had involved six legions (c. 30,000 troops, nearly a quarter of Rome’s 25 legions at the time). This despite the fact that the auxilia were often deployed away from the legions, sometimes in their own forts (you’ll see older works of scholarship suggest that the auxilia were kept logistically dependent on the legions, but more recent archaeology on exactly where they were has tended to push against this view). Indeed, the auxilia were often the only military forces (albeit in small detachments) in the otherwise demilitarized “senatorial” provinces (which comprised most of the wealthy, populous “core” of the empire); they could be trusted with the job, provided they weren’t the only forces in their own home provinces (and after 69, they never were). And the auxilia fought hard and quite well. The Romans occasionally won battles with nothing but the auxilia, was with the Battle of Mons Graupius (83 AD, Tac. Agricola 35ff) where the legions were held in reserve and never committed, the auxilia winning the battle effectively on their own. Viewers of the Column of Trajan’s spiral frieze have long noted that the auxilia on the monument (the troop-types are recognizable by their equipment) do most of the fighting, while the legions mostly perform support and combat engineering tasks. We aren’t well informed about the training the auxilia went through, but what we do know points to long-service professionals who were drilled every bit as hard as the famously well-drilled legions. Consequently, they had exactly the sort of professional cohesion that we’ve already discussed.
Why this difference in effectiveness and reliability? The answer is to be found in the difference in the terms under which they served. Rather than being treated as the disposable native auxiliaries of other empires, the Romans acted like the auxilia mattered … because they did.
First of all, the auxilia were paid. Our evidence here is imperfect and still much argued about, but it seems that auxilia were paid 5/6ths of the wages of the legionary counterparts, with the cavalry auxilia actually paid more than the infantry legionaries. While it might sound frustrating to be systematically paid 1/6th less than your legionary equivalent, the legions were paid fairly well. The auxilia probably made in wages about as much as a normal day-laborer, but the wage was guaranteed (something very much not the case for civilian laborers) and while the cost of their rations was deducted from their pay, that deduction was a fixed amount that seems to have been set substantially below the market value of their rations, building in another subsidy. Most auxiliaries seem to have been volunteers, because the deal in being an auxiliary was good enough to attract volunteers looking to serve a full tour of duty (around 20 years; this was a long-service professional army now so joining it meant making a career out of it).
And most importantly, eventually (perhaps under Tiberius or shortly thereafter) the auxilia began to receive a special grant of citizenship on finishing that tour of duty, one which covered the soldier, and any children he might have had by his subsequent spouse (including children had, it seems, before he left the army; Roman soldiers in this period were legally barred from contracting legal marriages while serving, so the grant is framed so that it retroactively legitimizes any children produced in a quasi-marriage when the tour of service is completed). Consequently, whereas a soldier being dragooned or hired as a mercenary into other multi-ethnic imperial armies might end his service and go back to being an oppressed subject, the Roman auxiliary, by virtue of his service, became Roman and thus essentially joined the ruling class at least in ethnic status. Auxiliaries also clearly got a share of the loot when offensive warfare happened and while there is a lot of debate as to if they also received the praemia (the large retirement bonus legionaries got), epigraphically it is pretty clear that auxiliaries who were careful with their money could establish themselves fairly well after their service. I should also note that what we see of auxiliaries suggests they were generally well armed (with some exceptions, which may have more to do with stereotyped depictions of certain kinds of “barbarians” than anything else): metal helmets, mail shirts (an expensive and high quality armor for the period), oval shields, a spear and the spatha – a Roman version of the classic Gallic one-handed cutting sword – are the standard visual indicator in Roman artwork for generic “auxiliaries”. That is actually a fairly high-end kit; it is no surprise that the auxilia could win battles with it.
The attentive should already be noting many of the components of the old socii system now in a new form: the non-Roman troops serve under similar conditions with the Romans, get similar pay and rations (forts occupied by the auxilia show no deviation from the standard Roman military diet), a share of loot and glory and can finally be rewarded for loyal service by being inducted into the Roman citizen body itself (which could mean their sons might well enroll in the legions, a thing which does seem to have happened, as we do see a fair bit of evidence for “military families” over multiple generations).
(For those looking for more detail on the auxilia, a lot of this is drawn from a book I have already recommended, Ian Haynes, Blood of the Provinces: The Roman auxilia and the Making of Provincial Society from Augustus to the Severans (2013). Also still useful for the history of the development of the auxilia is D.B. Saddington, The Development of the Roman auxiliary Forces from Caesar to Vespasian (1982); this is, alas, not an easy book to find as it is – to my knowledge – long out of print, but your library may be able to track down a copy.)
Bret Devereaux, “Collections: The Queen’s Latin or Who Were the Romans, Part V: Saving and Losing and Empire”, A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry, 2021-07-30.
