Ancient Everyday: Government in Ancient Rome – Part II

Welcome back Readers and History-Lovers!

Previously, in Part I of this two-part series on government in ancient Rome. we looked briefly at the popular assemblies which gave all male Roman citizens a measure of decision-making power when it came to their city and growing empire. If you missed that post, you can read it HERE.

In Part II, we’re going to be taking a brief look at what was arguably the real power behind Roman government during the Republican era: the Senate.

SPQR. Senatus Populusque Romanus. The Senate and People of Rome.

For a very long time, the initials SPQR stood for power, civilization, democracy and a government that spoke and worked for the people.

We’ve already taken a look at the ‘People’ portion, so now let us take a very brief look at the Senate of ancient Rome.

The Senate was really the ruling body behind Roman government. It was made up of a group of unelected men, and in the early Republican era, those men were only Patricians. It was later that Plebeians were permitted to join the ranks of the Senate.

Debate In The Early Roman Senate (by Severino Baraldi)

In the mid to late Republic, if a man was elected to a magistracy by the comitia, the popular assemblies we spoke of last time, he was automatically admitted to the Senate for life. The only way a senator could be expelled was if he was found guilty of some sort of severe misconduct.

Originally, there were one hundred members of the Senate. Then, this was increased to three hundred, and then in 80 B.C. to six hundred. Under Julius Caesar, when he was padding the Senate with his own supporters, the number reached nine hundred!

But what was the purpose of the Senate?

Originally, the Senate was a body of noble men who were to advise Rome’s elected magistrates and put forward laws, or leges, which the comitia could vote on. From the third century B.C., with the advent of the second Punic War and the great threat posed by Hannibal, the Senate’s powers were increased greatly.

Not only did the Senate prepare legislation to be voted on by the comitia, it also administered Rome’s finances, was in charge for foreign relations, and oversaw state religion. By the second and first centuries B.C., the Senate was pretty well the government of Rome, largely controlling the comitia and the elected magistrates.

The Senate of Rome in session in the Curia Julia (screen shot from the 1964 film The Fall of the Roman Empire)

Early on, the Senate could not make laws – those had to be voted on by the comitia – but it could issue decrees or decreta, also known as senatus consulta.

There was a lot of power and influence up for grabs when one was a Senator, but other than being an elected magistrate, what were the other criteria for joining the Senate?

To be a senator, one had to have a private income. There was no salary involved.

For Patricians in ancient Rome, becoming a Senator was another a part of the pursuit of power for themselves, for their families, and their friends. The education of Patrician or Senatorial class men was preparation for politics, for to the nobles of Rome, politics was everything, and it influenced friendships, marriages and divorces.

But this was a small percentage of Rome’s population, and there were intense rivalries. There were divisions, of course.

Senators included a group whose ancestors had held curule magistracies and consulships, and these men were known as nobiles, or ‘well-knowns’, and they could be Patrician or Plebeian.

Another group that later emerged in the ranks of the Senate was the novus homo, or ‘new man’. A novus homo was the first man in a family to hold a curule magistracy. The most famous such ‘new man’ is perhaps Cicero.

For an excellent novel on the rise of Cicero, you may wish to check out Robert Harris’ Cicero trilogy, beginning with Imperium.

Cicero

Meetings of the Senate were only attended by senators and the Flamen Dialis, the high priest of Jupiter. But the public could gather at the open doors in the vestibule of the Senate.

The meetings were originally held in the Curia Hostilia in the northwest corner of the Forum Romanum, but in actuality they could take place in any consecrated, public place within 1.6 kilometres of Rome. There was no fixed order for seating.

But what happened to the Senate under Rome’s emperors? Did it still have the power and sway that it used to?

The simple answer is no, not really.

However, in ancient Rome, tradition itself was a powerful thing, and the Senate was central to Rome’s traditions. For the sake of tradition, and perhaps popular opinion, no emperor tried to abolish the Senate, but they did impede its powers.

The Senate House, or ‘Curia’. This is the Curia Julia, built by Caesar and finished by Augustus after the previous two – the Curia Hostilia and the Curia Cornelia – were destroyed.

Under Augustus, the Senate was granting increasing powers to the emperor and, as a result, its own power was greatly reduced. However, by Augustus’ reign, there were over one thousand senators. Rome’s first emperor reduced that number to six hundred and also imposed a property qualification of one million sesterces for being admitted to the Senate.

Because Rome’s empire was expanding greatly, the Senate began to fill with men from noble families from the provinces.

What the Senate still did was control the state treasury, the aerarium, and create laws as a legislative body.

For better or for worse, perhaps depending on the type of emperor upon the throne, the power of the Roman Senate was gradually waning, and in A.D. 359, Emperor Constantine created another senate in his new capital of Constantinople, thereby creating two senates in the empire. 

By A.D. 384, each senate had about two thousand members, and though it continued as a legislative body, it would never be the same.

The last mention of the Roman Senate was in A.D. 603 around a declaration of new statues of Emperor Phocas and Empress Leontia.

Constantine the Great (c.272 – 337) – Statue outside York Minster

 We’ve only barely scraped the surface on the subject of the Senate of ancient Rome. This is a massive and fascinating subject. Hopefully this short post has given you an idea as to how the Senate fit into the government and workings of ancient Rome.

The slow death of tradition is not an easy thing. We are loathe to let go of our traditions. One can imagine the hardcore republicans during the time of Caesar and Augustus experiencing many a sleepless night at what they probably knew was coming.

Of course, they managed to stop Caesar, but by the time Augustus was on his imperial throne, the damage to the Senate had already been done, the gradual process of waning power was underway.

Forum Romanum reconstruction (The Roman Forum: A Reconstruction and Architectural Guide – Cambridge University Press)

Would Rome have been better off controlled by the Senate, and People, as it was in the early Republican era, come as it might with all of the corruption and politicking of senators and magistrates? Or was Rome better off with an emperor in place who could curb the Senate’s power and be a father to the Empire and its citizens?

Those are massive questions that have been debated for a long time, and will continue to be so. Of course, it would depend on the emperor at the time. Would you prefer to be in Rome during the height of the Republic or, say, during the reign of Emperor Antoninus Pius?

The answer might not be as easy as one thinks.

Tell us what you think in the comments below. If you could choose any period in Rome’s history in which to live, which would it be and why?

Whatever the period, there is no doubt that life in Rome was never dull, and we will always find the everyday world of that ancient city interesting and entertaining.

Thank you for reading.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

Ancient Everyday: Government in Ancient Rome – Part I

Salvete Readers and History-Lovers!

It’s been a while since our last blog on Religious Rites in Ancient Rome, and in that span of time a lot has happened abroad and at home.

Despite the lingering presence of COVID-19 in many countries around the world, some have started to risk staged re-openings, including our beloved Greece and Italy where summers would be incomplete without ancient sites and the sense-tickling blues of sea and sky. Eating al fresco is still a risky business, but people are trying things out.

I wonder if ‘re-openings’ were similar in the terrible wake of the Antonine Plague of the second century? Then, as now, the theatres and games must have been the last to open.

It has been an eventful period for myself as well. During this time of plague, my family and I decided to quit Rome for the quiet and less crowded countryside of Etruria. Well…in truth, we’ve completed our long-planned move from Toronto to Stratford, Ontario, home of the famous Shakespeare festival (yes, named after the English one!). Once again, as happened in ancient Rome or Elizabethan England, the theatres are dark due to plague. But they will re-open again!

But now for this week’s blog post…

During this pandemic, we have been hearing a lot about governments, how they have been dealing with this pestilence, how they have been trying to keep the populace safe, how they have developed economic plans for support and recovery at various levels and for various sectors etc.

So, I thought it would be a good time for a short, two-part blog series on government in ancient Rome.

What did government look like in the world of ancient Rome? How were decisions made? What did it look like in the Republic versus the Principate? What was the difference between the Popular Assemblies and the Senate?

In Part I of this series, we’re going to be taking a very brief look at the Popular Assemblies during the Republican era.

For a long time, Roman citizenship was something of value, something to be cherished for many reasons, not least of which was the ability to have a say in who was elected to political office, but also which legislation was passed in the growing empire that was Rome. Roman citizenship, for free men that is, was something to be proud of. It offered protection, commanded respect, and so much more.

All male citizens of Rome could vote on legislation and in the election of government officials, and this voting was done in the Popular Assemblies, or comitia. All male citizens were automatically members of a comitium, of which there were four.

The important thing to keep in mind is that these comitia met only to vote, not to discuss or initiate action.

Legislation, laws, or a proposed action (ex. to go to war against an enemy) was initiated by an elected magistrate and discussed by the Senate of Rome. This happened before being taken to the Popular Assemblies, or comitia, for a vote. In this way, the senators of Rome controlled the nature of legislation.

Denarius with image of a voter casting a ballot (Wikimedia Commons)

Laws were known as leges (singular, ‘lex’), and laws passed by the Plebeian assembly were known as plebiscita.

There was no discussion during assemblies, but there could be informal discussions known as contiones before a vote which male and female citizens, slaves and foreigners could attend, hence the importance of public opinion and the favour of ‘the mob’ in ancient Rome if you were a senator or magistrate who wanted something to be passed by the Popular Assemblies.

As Rome’s empire grew, many citizens could not vote because they were far from Rome where the voting took place.

To Romans, Rome really was the centre of the world.

Ancient Rome (image from Ancient History Magazine)

There were four types of comitia in ancient Rome during the Republican era, and the first group were the comitia curiata.

In ancient Rome, there were thirty wards or curiae, ten wards for each of the three original tribes (Ramnes, Tities, and Luceres) of Rome. Just as we do today, people voted in their respective wards.

However, little is known of the comitia curiata. What we do know is that the comitia centuriata grew out of it, and that by the late Republic the comitia curiata met only formally to confer imperium on consuls and praetors.

The next popular assembly we are going to take a look at is the comitia centuriata. This is the assembly that decided between War and Peace in ancient Rome, so you can imagine them meeting quite often as Rome’s empire expanded. They also elected higher magistrates and were the court of appeal for death sentences.

The comitia centuriata could only be summoned by a magistrate with imperium. They met on the Campus Martius (the Field of Mars) at Rome, and the voters of this assembly were divided into units called centuries, of which there were 373 in total. These centuries were based on male citizens’ ages and property asset values, the latter meaning that the poor had fewer votes. It was the rich who ran Rome.

Will it be War or Peace?

The third group of comitia we’re going to take a look are the comitia tributa or ‘assembly of the tribes’.

These comitia met in the Forum Romanum and the voters were divided into their thirty-five tribes, including the three original Roman tribes. They were summoned by consuls, praetors or tribunes for the purposes of electing lesser magistrates or to act as a court of appeal. They also voted on bills which the magistrates put before them.

Lastly, there was the concilium plebis, or Plebeian Assembly.

This assembly consisted of Plebeians only and met in the Forum Romanum. The citizens were divided into the thirty-five Plebeian tribes whose duty is was to elect tribunes and plebeian aediles. After 287 B.C., their resolutions or ‘plebiscita’ were binding on all citizens of Rome.

Gaius Gracchus, tribune of the people, presiding over the Plebeian Council (Wikimedia Commons)

So, there you have it: a very brief outline of the Popular Assemblies in ancient Rome.

Even though it appears that the rich – ie. the senators – controlled Rome, the popular assemblies were important in that they are what gave the people their say. Yes, the system could be corrupted, votes surely bought, but it was a say and every male citizen of Rome had his duty to vote. No vote, no say.

For those of you who are interested, the novel ROMA, by Steven Saylor, delves into the early government of ancient Rome. It’s a fantastic read and I highly recommend it.

But it is true that during the Republic, the Senate was perhaps the true power behind Rome’s growing empire.

Next week, in Part II of this blog series on government in ancient Rome, we’ll be taking a brief look at the senate, and its powers and duties.

Thank you for reading.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

Religious Rites in Ancient Rome

As some of you may know, I find Roman religion utterly fascinating. I find the customizable nature of Roman religious beliefs very interesting in that people were not bound to a particular god or goddess. Indeed, there was a different god or goddess for almost every aspect of life, and as Rome conquered new lands, new deities and traditions were added into the mix.

In some ways, Roman religion was as diverse as Roman society.

In the last blog post, we took a look at the various types of spirits, or numina, that existed in Roman religion. If you missed that post, you can read it by CLICKING HERE.

We know that there were many kinds of spirits, and various gods and goddesses that were worshiped by Romans, but what form did that worship take? Were there different ways of honouring and conversing with the gods?

In this post, we’re going to be taking a look at the various religious rites in Roman religion.

Artist impression of temple of Mars Ultor (the ‘Avenger’)

Roman religion itself was more cult-based. It involved the worship of a god, goddess or hero with specific rituals that were observed in order to win the gods’ favour.

This was more of a symbiont relationship, as it was believed that not only did mortals need the gods, but also that the gods needed mortal acknowledgment. 

As mostly spirits of natural forces (ex. lighting, or the sea), the gods needed to be propitiated, kept friendly toward their mortal worshippers. This was done more through observing the proper rites than through piety or good behaviour.

The cult ceremonies performed by mortals to honour gods, goddesses, or heroes were a sort of ‘contract’ between mortal and immortal.

Let’s take a brief look at the various types of religious rites or ceremonies that were carried out by ancient Romans.

The Council of the Gods by Raphael, c.1517, Villa Farnesina, Rome

The first type of rite is one that is common to all religions, and that is prayer.

Prayers in ancient Roman religion did not always have a set text that had to be spoken, such as the Lord’s Prayer or a Hail Mary in Christianity. A Roman prayer really depended on the person offering it, and what that person needed. 

As part of prayers, a worshipper offered to give something to the god, or to do something for the god (ex. build an altar). This was done with no expectation. It was a gift.

Prayers tried to cover eventualities.

A sacrifice portrayed on a lararium, or family shrine, in Pompeii

Vows were similar to prayers in that the worshipper offered to do or give something to a god, but in this instance, it was only in return for something from the immortal.

Not only did individuals make vows, but the state could also make a vow, such as if the gods helped to avert a crisis or disaster. It was common for vows to be recorded on votive tablets and left in temples as a record of the vow. With vows, there was a sort of two-way accountability. 

The fulfillment of a vow often involved setting up an altar, or leaving a gift at a temple or shrine.

The vow was referred to as a nuncupatio and the fulfillment as the solutio. For the particular gift that was created or offered, it was referred to as ex voto, that is ‘in fulfillment of a vow’.

Altar to Jupiter dating to 2nd–3rd century AD. – Inscription: Dedicated by L. Lollius Clarus for himself and his family (Wikiwand)

When it comes to Roman religious rites, the one that most people today probably think of is the sacrifice.

Sacrifices were a gift to the gods, heroes, and to the dead. They were carried out publicly or privately, and there were many different ways of performing them.

Sometimes, food and drink were shared between mortals and immortals at a feast. However, sometimes, in sacrifice, all the food was burned on the fire for the gods. These types of sacrifices could consist of cakes, wine, incense, oil, honey and various animals (blood sacrifices).

There is little evidence for human sacrifice in Roman religion except in an extreme example after the battle of Cannae (216 B.C.), when Rome experienced one of her worst military defeats ever during the second Punic War against Hannibal. The sacrifice that took place after the battle involved the burying of two Greeks and two Gauls in the forum Boarium in Rome.

There were a few categories of sacrifice in Roman religion, with various motives for each. These are evidenced mostly by inscriptions on altars. The motive could be the fulfillment of a vow (perhaps the most common), a thank offering, or the expectation of a favour from the gods. Other motives could included the result of some sort of divination, an anniversary (such as the founding of Rome on April 21), or a dedication.

Some sacrifices were considered to be instigated by the gods because of a dream or some other portent.

You can read more about the specifics of sacrifice, and how they were carried out in ancient Rome, by CLICKING HERE.

Relief of a Suovetaurilia ceremony

Another form of offering that was a part of Roman religious rites was the libation.

Libations were liquid offerings (also considered a sacrifice) to the gods that were poured on the ground. The most common was undiluted wine, but libations could also include milk, honey and even water. These were also offered to the dead at burials and later in ceremonies at the tombs of the deceased.

Another rite was the devotio. This was when a suppliant tried to gain the favour of the gods by offering their own life. This was, of course, less common.

The devotio was performed in times of desperation, such as by a general who was about to loose a battle, and so would offer his life during the battle if his forces should be victorious and avert disaster and shame. This was a ritual that was often performed for Tellus, the Earth Goddess, or the manes, the ‘spirits of the divine dead’.

The Goddess Tellus on the Ara Pacis in Rome

The rite known as the ver sacrum was performed at a time of great crisis. This usually involved the dedication of everything born in the Spring to a god, often to Jupiter himself.

As part of the ver sacrum, all such animals were sacrificed, but children born in the Spring were expelled from the country at the age of twenty to form a new community elsewhere. This rite was performed in 217 B.C. during the second Punic War.

German print of Hannibal, victorious against Rome at Cannae

A lustratio was another important rite in Roman religion. It was a sort of purification ceremony to protect against evil and give good luck. It involved a procession, an animal sacrifice, prayers and other sacrifices such as of food and incense.

An example of this was when a newborn child reached nine days of age and received his or her name. In this sense, the lustratio was similar to the Christian rite of baptism.

Those of you who have read the novel, Killing the Hydra, will remember the chapter in which a lustratio ceremony takes place at the legionary fortress of Lambaesis in Numidia.

Relief of Emperor Marcus Aurelius performing a sacrifice

Divination rites were also a major part of Roman religion.

These involved the reading of signs and omens to reveal the will of the gods. It was a way of predicting the future through things such as thunder, lightning, bird signs and other phenomena.

There were two types of divination. The first was natural divination which involved dream interpretation (such as when a sick person was made to sleep in the temple of Asclepius), or oracular prophecy by someone possessed by a god. In natural divination, the gods spoke directly to mortals.

Artificial divination, however, was based on the observance of plants and animals. It could involve augury, which was the art of reading bird signs, reading the entrails of a sacrifice, or even reading the throwing of dice or drawing of lots.

Specialized training was required to carry out these rites of divination, much of which was handed down by the Etruscans to the Romans.

Etruscan bronze liver that may have served as an instructional model for a haruspex (Wikimedia Commons)

Oracles were an important part form of natural divination, and though they were more popular in the world of ancient Greece, they did play a role in Roman religion.

The most famous oracles were the Pythia at Delphi, still consulted in Roman times, and the Cumaean Sibyl (whose cave is visited in the book Children of Apollo. The god Apollo, worshipped by both the Greeks and Romans, spoke through both of these important oracles. However, there were other gods who spoke to the Romans through oracles, such as Carmentis, a water goddess who was also a prophetic goddess of protection in childbirth, and Faunus, the Roman equivalent to Pan, who was a hunter and agricultural god. In his oracular nature, Faunus spoke to mortals in dreams and through sacred groves.

The Roman state consulted oracles less frequently than, say, the ancient Athenians or Spartans. However, the prophecies of the Cumaean Sibyl that were known as the Sibylline Books, were consulted in ancient Rome. These important prophecies were destroyed in a fire that consumed the temple of Jupiter where they were kept, and so a new compendium of the Sibylline Books was transferred to the temple of Apollo on the Palatine Hill, which was built by Augustus.

Oracles were tricky though, and because they became increasingly popular among the people of Rome in the early Empire, there was a growing sense of panic. For this reason, Augustus is said to have burned two thousand books of prophecies. Perhaps the emperor had a good point? Some of you may remember the Mayan Calendar and the Y2K panic? I wonder if Nostradamus’ prophecies said anything about our current COVID crisis? And what about Voldemort and his obsession with a prophecy in the Harry Potter series!

Let’s not think about it. Oracles, it seems, were a double-edged gladius.

Apollo and the Pythia who uttered his prophecies to mortals

The final sort of religious rite we’re going to take a look at is one that is still popular today.

Astrology came to Rome in the second century B.C. from Babylon and Egypt. At the time, it was very popular, and it was thought to be compatible with religion because the stars foretold the future, and that that future was the gods’ will.

At first, even Christians and Jews accepted astrology and the predictability of the planets and stars.

Most famously, Emperor Septimius Severus and Empress Julia Domna were big believers in the art of astrology, and they used astrologers on a regular basis. This part of their beliefs, and how it affected their rule, is explored in the Eagles and Dragons series. 

Looking to the to the stars for guidance…

I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief look at religious rites in ancient Rome. There are, of course, more aspects to the intricacies of Roman religious observance, and anyone with an interest in this subject is encouraged to read more, but also to look closely at the archaeological record, mainly the remains of altars and votive inscriptions, to learn more about the people who carried out these rites or commissioned them.

These rites were not only a way of honouring gods, goddesses, and heroes by the Romans. They were also a way to communicated directly with them, to interact with them, to be closer to them.

Thank you for reading.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

Ancient Everyday: Janus – The Faces of a Roman God

Salvete Readers and History-lovers!

Happy New Year to all of you, and may this new decade bring you much love, joy, good health, and prosperity in all you do!

I’ve been off for a couple of weeks after a full autumn of blogging, right up to threshold of 2020, but now it’s time to get back down to work and bring you all more history and historical fiction!

I thought it would be nice to start the year off right with a new Ancient Everyday post about one of the most important gods in ancient Rome: Janus.

Janus, the two-faced god. Give him a thought as we step from one year into another.

See Janus comes…the herald of a lucky year to thee, and in my song takes precedence. Two-headed Janus, opener of the softly gliding year, thou who alone of the celestials dost behold thy back, O come propitious to the chiefs whose toil ensures peace to the fruitful earth, peace to the sea. And come propitious to thy senators and to the people of Quirinus, and by thy nod unbar the temples white. A happy morning dawns. Fair speech, fair thoughts I crave! Now must good words be spoken on a good day.

(Ovid, Fasti, Book I, Kalends, Ianuarius)

Unlike many other gods, there was no equivalent to Janus in Greek myth. He was a uniquely Roman god.

In Roman mythology, Janus was said to be the first king of Latium. He pursued caught up with the virgin nymph, Carna (who usually escaped her suitors), and in return he gave her power over door hinges and a branch of hawthorn to keep evil spirits away from thresholds and doorways.

Janus was also the father of Tiberinus, who gave his name to the River Tiber, and of the nymph Canens, by Venilia, who married Picus, the son of Saturn, both of whom were tortured by the jealous enchantress, Circe.

While the fates guard Canens, Janus’s daughter, for me [Picus], I will not harm our bond of affection by an alien love. Repeating her entreaties, time and again, in vain, Circe cried: ‘You will not go unpunished, or return to your Canens, and you will learn the truth of what the wounded; a lover; a woman, can do: and Circe is a lover; is wounded; is a woman!’

(Ovid, Metamorphoses, XIV:320-396)

Circe Changing Picus into a Bird (Circes concubitum detestatur Picus), from Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’ (Wikimedia Commons)

The mythology around Janus is fascinating enough, but even more so are the aspects of this Roman god.

Janus is one of those gods who permeated many aspects of Roman life, but one who is sometimes glossed over when looking at ancient Rome today.

Janus was really everywhere. Right now, we find ourselves in the month of Janus, or Ianuarius, as the Romans said. That’s January to all of us. Why is the month of January named after this archaic Roman god?

Among the many aspects of Janus, he was the Roman god of new beginnings, as well as endings. Not only was January dedicated to Janus, but also the kalends (the first day) of every month were as well.

When Romans wanted to bless the beginning of anything new – a month, a year, a journey, a business venture etc. – Janus was the first god they prayed to. As the god of beginnings, Janus was always the first god to be named on any list of the gods, or honoured in any ceremony, no matter for which god the ceremony was dedicated. He was also the first god to receive a portion of the sacrifice.

But Janus was not just a god of new beginnings. There was much more to this fascinating, most-ancient god of the Roman pantheon.

Remains of the Temple of Janus in Rome (Wikimedia Commons)

Janus was also a god of gates and doorways, and this is one reason for which he is often depicted as having two faces. Janus ‘Bifrons’ guarded over transitionary places such as gates and doorways, or even the crossing point of one year to the other, his two faces simultaneously looking forward and backward, seeing all.

As the god who oversaw passageways and doorways, Janus was the god who allowed mortals to communicate with the other gods, and so his invocation at the outset of a religious ceremony was crucial.

But there are even more aspects to Janus.

Janus ‘Patulcius’ was the god who actually opened doors, and Janus ‘Clusivus’ was the god who closed doors. 

Janus ‘Consivius’, was a god of change and of time who was also invoked at important events such as marriage, or death, or at harvest and planting times of year.

Janus ‘Quirinus’ was the god of the all-important Roman passage from war to peace, from soldier to citizen.

In ancient Rome, however, Janus was probably most worshiped as Janus ‘Pater’, Janus the Father who was a god of creation, or a primal creator in the form of Chaos.

Definitely a god you want to have on your side.

A print from Bernard de Montfaucon’s L’antiquité expliquée et représentée en figures with different images of Janus. (Wikimedia Commons)

The ancients called me Chaos, for a being from of old am I; observe the long, long ages of which my song shall tell. Yon lucid air and the three others bodies, fire, water, earth, were huddled all in one. When once, through the discord of its elements, the mass parted, dissolved, and went in diverse ways to seek new homes, flame sought the height, air filled the nearer space, while earth and sea sank in the middle deep. ‘Twas then that I, till that time a mere ball, a shapeless lump, assumed the face and members of a god. And even now, small index of my erst chaotic state, my front and back look just the same. Now hear the other reason for the shape you ask about, that you may know it and my office too. Whate’er you see anywhere – sky, sea, clouds, earth – all things are closed and opened by my hand. The guardianship of this vast universe is in my hands alone, and none but me may rule the wheeling pole. When I choose to send forth peace from tranquil halls, she freely walks the ways unhindered. But with blood and slaughter the whole world would welter, did not the bars unbending hold the barricadoed wars. I sit at heaven’s gate with the gentle Hours; my office regulates the goings and the comings of Jupiter himself. Hence Janus is my name; but when the priest offers me a barley cake and spelt mingled with salt, you would laugh to hear the names he gives me, for on his sacrificial lips I’m now Patulcius and now Clusius called. Thus rude antiquity made shift to work my changing functions with the change of name. My business I have told. Now learn the reason for my shape, though already you perceive it in part. Every door has two fronts, this way and that, whereof one faces the people and the other the house-god; and just as your human porter, seated at the threshold of the house-door, sees who goes out and in, so I, the porter of the heavenly court, behold at once both East and West. 

(Ovid, Fasti, Book I, Kalends, Ianuarius)

Janus was honoured at many different times of year, and for various events, but his main festival was, oddly enough, held on the 17th of August. This was also the festival of Portunus, or Portunalia, which honoured the god who protected doors and harbours.

Rites dedicated to Janus at these various times of year, including the start and end of the military campaigning season (March and October) included offerings of spelt cakes and salt that were burned upon altars.

And on New Year’s Day – a very important beginning up to our own day – people gave gifts of dates, figs, honey, salt and coins.

One important tradition we still honour today is the offering of good wishes and cheerful words at New Year. All of these honoured Janus!

Interestingly, Janus did not have a specific priest in ancient Rome. The rites for him were performed by the Rex Sacrorum, the ‘King of the Sacred Rites’.

Janus had various shrines dedicated to him in Rome, but perhaps the most famous was the one built by King Numa Pompilius (c. 715-673 B.C.) the second king of Rome, after Romulus himself. Religion was important to King Numa.

The temple of Janus was built by Numa in the Forum Romanum, but this was no ordinary temple. It was more of an East-West passageway with doors at each end.

This temple represented the beginning and end of war or conflict, and the journey that entailed. During war, the doors of the temple of Janus were left open, but during peace time, the doors were closed.

Needless to say, in ancient Rome, as the Empire expanded, the doors were more often open than closed.

He [Janus] also has a temple at Rome with double doors, which they call the gates of war; for the temple always stands open in time of war, but is closed when peace has come. The latter was a difficult matter, and it rarely happened, since the realm was always engaged in some war, as its increasing size brought it into collision with the barbarous nations which encompassed it round about. But in the time of Augustus Caesar it was closed, after he had overthrown Antony; and before that, when Marcus Atilius and Titus Manlius were consuls, it was closed a short time; then war broke out again at once, and it was opened. During the reign of Numa, however, it was not seen open for a single day, but remained shut for the space of forty-three years together, so complete and universal was the cessation of war. For not only was the Roman people softened and charmed by the righteousness and mildness of their king, but also the cities round about, as if some cooling breeze or salubrious wind were wafted upon them from Rome, began to experience a change of temper, and all of them were filled with a longing desire to have good government, to be at peace, to till the earth, to rear their childrenin quiet, and to worship the gods.

(Plutarch, The Life of King Numa, XX)

Temple of Janus on a coin minted by Nero (54-68 A.D.) Note that the doors are closed.

It is often the case, especially in fiction and popular culture, that religion in ancient Rome is often ignored or glossed over.

But if you want an accurate picture of everyday life in ancient Rome, or if you want to get to know the Romans more completely, their religious beliefs and practices are an important part of that picture.

Many people today may not believe in gods, or a god, anymore, but to the ancient Romans, they played a central role in every aspect of life, and Janus, in all his many guises, was at the forefront of the Roman pantheon.

Thank you for reading, and a very Happy New Year to you all!

Facebooktwitterpinterest

The World of Isle of the Blessed – Part VII – The Severan Invasion of Caledonia: Victory or Failure?

In the midst of the emperor’s distress at the kind of life his sons were leading and their disgraceful obsession with shows, the governor of Britain informed Severus by dispatches that the barbarians there were in revolt and overrunning the country, looting and destroying virtually everything on the island. He told Severus that he needed either a stronger army for the defence of the province or the presence of the emperor himself. Severus was delighted with this news: glory-loving by nature, he wished to win victories over the Britons to add to the victories and titles of honour he had won in the East and the West. Be he wished even more to take his sons away from Rome so that they might settle down in the soldier’s life under military discipline, far from the luxuries and pleasures of Rome. And so, although he was now well advanced in years and crippled with arthritis, Severus announced his expedition to Britain, and in his heart he was more enthusiastic than any youth. During the greater part of the journey he was carried in a little, but he never remained very long in one place and never stopped to rest. He arrived with his sons at the coast sooner than anyone anticipated, outstripping the news of his approach. he crossed the channel and landed in Britain; levying soldiers from all the areas, he raise a powerful army and made preparations for the campaign.

(Herodian, History of the Empire, XIV,1-3)

Welcome to the seventh and final part in The World of Isle of the Blessed.

In Part VI, we looked at the mystery of decapitated Roman bodies found in York, and how they may relate to Caracalla’s rampage upon taking the imperial throne after the death of his father, Emperor Septimius Severus. If you missed that post, you can check it out HERE.

In Part VII, we are going to be looking at Severus’ Caledonian campaign that is the focus of Warriors of Epona (Eagles and Dragons – Book III) and the newest release in the series, Isle of the Blessed.

Marching Legions (Wikimedia Commons)

First of all, why did Septimius Severus march on Caledonia? The main reason most often given by the sources is that it was something he thought would give his unruly sons, Caracalla and Geta, focus. It was something to train them for the role of emperor. Severus was a big believer in the importance of nurturing the loyalty of the legions, and so perhaps he also hoped his sons would prove themselves and, in the process, earn that loyalty.

But there had to be more to it than a training exercise for his delinquent boys.

Severus’ Caledonian campaign was enormous. He moved on Caledonia with at least three full legions (the II Augusta, the VI Victrix, and the XX Valeria Victrix) as well as greater numbers of detachments and auxiliary units. When Septimius Severus took the imperial throne, he was immediately engaged in consolidating the Empire after the civil war, and then taking on the Parthian Empire. He was a military emperor, and he knew how to keep his troops busy, and how to reward them.

The Caledonians had been a thorn in Rome’s side for a long while at that time, but it was not until A.D. 208 that Severus was finally able to deal with them. And so, the imperial army moved to northern Britannia, poised to take on the Caledonians once again.

We’ve already touched on Severus’ campaign in The World of Warriors of Epona blog series. However, it’s important to note that this is believed to be the last real attempt by Rome to take a full army into the heart of barbarian territory.

Severus moved on the Caledonians with the greatest land force in the history of Roman Britain, making use of his predecessors’ fortifications (such as the Gask Ridge frontier) and roads, and penetrating almost as far as Agricola’s legions over a hundred years before.

The war may have been an opportunity to train and discipline Severus’ sons, but it seems evident that the true intention of the Caledonian campaign was to put a stop to the rebellious behaviour of the Caledonii, Maeatae and other Caledonian tribes.

Severus’ ultimate goal was the complete and permanent conquest of Caledonia.

Severan Campaigns in Caledonia (Wikimedia Commons)

There are two principal races of the Britons, the Caledonians and the Maeatae, and the names of others have been merged in these two. The Maeatae live next to the cross-wall which cuts the island in half, and the Caledonians are beyond them. Both tribes inhabit wild and waterless mountains and desolate and swampy plains, and possess neither walls, cities, nor tilled fields, but live on their flocks, wild game, and certain fruits; for they do not touch the fish which are there found in immense and inexhaustible quantities. They dwell in tents, naked and unshod, possess their women in common, and in common rear all the offspring. Their form of rule is democratic for the most part, and they are very fond of plundering; consequently they choose their boldest men as rulers. The go into battle in chariots, and have small, swift horses; there are also foot-soldiers, very swift running and very firm in standing their ground. For arms they have a shield and a short spear, with a bronze apple attached to the end of the spear-shaft, so that when it is shaken it may clash and terrify the enemy; and they also have daggers. They can endure hunger and cold and any kind of hardship; for they plunge into the swamps and exist there for many days with only their heads above water, and in the forests they support themselves upon bark and root…

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History 12,1)

It seems that Severus knew the Caledonian campaign would not be easy, for this was a huge offensive with a lot of military might behind it. However, one has to wonder if they knew what to expect. The Caledonii and the Maeatae were smart fighters. They knew their terrain, and their strengths. But they also knew Rome’s strengths, and so refused meet the legions in a pitched battle.

The result? A brutal guerrilla war.

…as he [Severus] advanced through the country he experienced countless hardships in cutting down forests, levelling the heights, filling up swamps, and bridging rivers; but he fought no battle and beheld no enemy in battle array. The enemy purposely put sheep and cattle in front of the soldiers for them to seize in order that they might be lured on still further until they were worn out; for in fact the water caused great suffering to the Romans, and when they became scattered, they would be attacked. Then, unable to walk, they would be slain by their own men, in order to avoid capture, so that a full fifty thousand died.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History 14,1)

The Highlands of Caledonia

Severus’ Caledonian campaign was actually carried out in two phases. The first, explored in the novel Warriors of Epona, actually ended in a peace treaty in which Dio tells us that Severus “forced the Britons to come to terms, on the condition that they should abandon a large part of their territory.”

If Dio’s horrific number of fifty-thousand Roman casualties is to be believed (remember, ancient sources are often prone to exaggeration), then the Caledonii must have suffered even greater losses if they agreed to the terms.

It is here that one of the strangest episodes of the campaign occurred, though it had nothing to do with actual fighting, or the Caledonians.

On another occasion, when both [Severus and Caracalla] were riding forward to meet the Caledonians, in order to receive their arms and discuss the details of the truce, Antoninus [Caracalla] attempted to kill his father outright with his own hand. They were proceeding on horseback, Severus also being mounted, in spite of the fact that he had somewhat strained his feet as a result of his infirmity, and the rest of the army was following; the enemy’s force were likewise spectators. At this juncture, while all were proceeding in silence and in order, Antoninus reined in his horse and drew his sword, as if he were going to strike his other in the back. But the others who were riding with them, upon seeing this, cried out, and so Antoninus, in alarm, desisted from his attempt. Severus turned at their shout and saw the sword, yet he did not utter a word, but ascended the tribunal, finished what he had to do, and returned to headquarters.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, 14,3)

When they had returned to base, Severus apparently chided his son before Castor, his freedman, and Papinianus, the Praetorian Prefect, both men whom Caracalla hated and who would later feel his wrath.

Ruins of Roman York – historic photo of the multiangular tower

It would seem that Septimius Severus, during the Caledonian campaign, was fighting a war on two fronts in a way – one in the glens and forests of Scotland, and the other at home. If the emperor was hoping that the campaign would bring his two sons closer together, he was wrong in that assessment. With Geta running the imperial administration in Eburacum (York) and Caracalla leading the troops in Caledonia, it seemed the rift between them was growing wider and wider.

After the treaty with the Caledonians was settled, Septimius Severus, growing more and more ill and infirm, returned to Eburacum. It was during this time that Caracalla is supposed to have tried to get his father’s doctors to speed  his demise, an act they refused to do at their own peril.

It was not long, however, before the Caledonians and Maeatae broke the treaty and the drums of war began to thrum once again. It is the second, bloody portion of the Caledonian campaign that takes place in Isle of the Blessed.

Cassius Dio quotes the ailing emperor’s words when he discovered that the Caledonians and Maeatae had broken the truce:

When the inhabitants of the island again revolted, he summoned the soldiers and ordered them to invade the rebels’ country, killing everybody they met; and he quoted these words:

“Let no one escape sheer destruction,

No one our hands, not even the babe in the womb of the mother,

If it be male; let it nevertheless not escape sheer destruction.”

When this had been done, and the Caledonians had joined the revolt of the Maeatae, he began to make war upon them in person. While he was thus engaged, his sickness carried him off on the fourth of February, not without some help, they say, from Antoninus.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, 15,1)

Artist impression of Roman cavalry ala engaging Caledonians (illustration by Sean O’ Brogain)

The Romans began visiting brutal retaliation upon the enemy then, but all ground to a halt with the death of Emperor Septimius Severus at York.

It is at this point that Caracalla and Geta became co-rulers. However, Their primary objective now was to return to Rome and garner support.

The brothers, despite the hope of their parents, tutor, and others, were anything but harmonious.

Caracalla began gathering support and power unto himself, and it is at this time that he carried out the bloody killings hinted at by the discoveries at York we heard about in Part VI of this blog series.

One of the beheaded York Romans (Photo: York Archaeological Trust)

After the death of Septimius Severus, the Caledonian campaign came to an abrupt end:

Antoninus [Caracalla] assumed the entire power; nominally, it is true, he shared it with his brother, but in reality he ruled alone from the very outset. With the enemy he came to terms, withdrew from their territory, and abandoned the forts; as for his own people, he dismissed some…and killed others…

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, 11,1)

The Severan invasion of Scotland was a massive campaign, involving hundreds of thousands of men. It was not nearly as large as his successful Parthian campaign in which he led thirty-three legions east, but it was one of the largest Roman operations on British soil.

50,000 Roman dead.

And how many more Caledonian and Maeatae casualties?

If Cassius Dio is correct, the numbers are staggering.

But was the campaign a victory or a failure for Rome? Was it worth it?

Severus had not only wished for the complete and permanent conquest of Caledonia, but also for the war to give his sons discipline, for it to bring them close together.

Perhaps Severus also wanted to add one more battle honour to his name – ‘Britannicus’?

If we are to believe Cassius Dio and Herodian, our primary sources for this period, we must conclude that Severus’ Caledonian campaign was more of a failure, not because Rome lost on the field of battle – indeed, despite the loss of life, they brought the tribes to their knees temporarily – but because the finalizing of the campaign was left in the hands of incapable heirs whose only concern was to return to Rome and gather power, heirs who continued to hate each other.

How many possible victories in history have been wasted in a greedy aftermath?

Roman re-enactors (Historic Scotland)

Caracalla and Geta abandoned Caledonia and returned to Rome with destruction and bitter enemies in their wake.

The forts of the Gask Ridge, the would-be northern capital of Horea Classis, and the Antonine wall, Trimontium and other forts were abandoned and silent once more. Rome’s allies in the fight, mainly the Votadini, were left to their own defences yet again.

The Caledonians and Maeatae had been paid off, and may have been quiet for a time, but they would rebel again…and again.

And so the cycle of powerful men wasting the lives of loyal troops in foreign wars echoes through history without end. And the same goes for the pain and suffering on both sides of any conflict.

The Severan invasion of Caledonia was just another such conflict.

And for the characters in Isle of the Blessed, the scars of that conflict will be long-lasting indeed.

Thank you for reading.

We hope you have enjoyed this blog series on The World of Isle of the Blessed. If you missed any of the posts, or would like to read them again, you can read the entire blog series by CLICKING HERE.

 Isle of the Blessed (Eagles and Dragons – Book IV) is available in e-book and paperback in most major on-line retailers HERE.

If you haven’t read any books in the Eagles and Dragons series yet, you can start with the #1 bestselling A Dragon among the Eagles for just 0.99! Or get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for FREE by signing-up for the newsletter HERE.

Stay tuned for our next blog series about Book V in the Eagles and Dragons series, The Stolen Throne (available now).

The history, archaeology and mythology continue, and we’re thrilled to have you along for the ride.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

The World of Isle of the Blessed – Part VI – Mass Murder in Roman York

After his father’s death, Caracalla seized control and immediately began to murder everyone in the court; he killed the physicians who had refused to obey his orders to hasten the old man’s death and also murdered those men who had reared his brother and himself because they persisted in urging him to live at peace with Geta. He did not spare any of the men who had attended his father or were held in esteem by him.

(Herodian, History of the Empire, XV-4)

Thus began the reign of Marcus Aurelius Severus Antoninus Augustus, the emperor more commonly known as Caracalla.

Welcome back to The World of Isle of the Blessed, the blog series in which we look at the research that went into the creation of the latest Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy novel.

In Part V, we looked at the death of Emperor Septimius Severus in York. If you missed that post, you can read it HERE.

In Part VI we are going to explore the immediate aftermath of Severus’ death, and how a mysterious archaeological discovery gives some interesting clues about the bloody beginning of Caracalla’s reign.

Septimius Severus and Caracalla (painting by Jean-Baptiste Greuze; Department of Paintings of the Louvre)

It could be argued that the death of Septimius Severus in York (Roman Eburacum) in A.D. 211 was one of the most pivotal moments in Rome’s history, that it was perhaps the beginning of the end for the Empire.

Severus had always been a strong leader who had decisively won out over his opponents in the civil war, who had conquered the Parthian Empire, and perhaps most importantly, had nurtured the loyalty of the legions.

As Cassius Dio tells us, one of the final pieces of advice to both of his sons was to “be harmonious, enrich the soldiers, and scorn all other men.”

But harmony between his sons and heirs, Caracalla and Geta, was something that would never come to be. As explored in Killing the Hydra (Eagles and Dragons Book II), after the death of Plautianus, Severus’ previous, traitorous Praetorian prefect, the two brothers were constantly at odds, running amok in Rome.

That was one of the reasons the sources give for the Caledonian campaign, that it was to give his sons a sense of purpose.

Gold aureus portraying Caracalla (as ‘Augustus’) and Geta (as ‘Caesar’)

His belief in his sons, especially in Caracalla, might have been Severus’ fatal flaw when it came to the health of the Empire. Dio tells us “he had often blamed Marcus [Aurelius] for not putting Commodus quietly out of the way and that he had himself often threatened to act thus toward his son [Caracalla]”.

But Severus erred and made the same mistake as Marcus Aurelius, and set his son upon the imperial throne. Only this time, there were two heirs, and if one thing is certain, imperial power was never easily shared.

Caracalla was obsessed with securing power…

When Septimius Severus finally passed away in Eburacum, (Roman York) on February, A.D. 211, Caracalla made his bid to secure power immediately.

As have other rulers in Rome’s history, he began by eliminating his perceived enemies, those who posed an immediate threat.

This did not include his brother Geta at first, for Geta was also well-loved by the men of the legions as Severus’ son, and Caracalla needed the legions’ loyalty.

Others were not so fortunate.

As Herodian tells us in the quote above, Caracalla began to “murder everyone in the court”.

But how and where did he do this?

In the early 2000s, a gruesome discovery beneath a patio in York hints at what might have happened. 

Headless bodies discovered in York (photo by York Archaeological Trust)

What this archaeological discover entailed aligns well with what we are told of Caracalla’s bloody start to his reign, and hints at the madness or paranoia that already had a hold on the young emperor.

As it turns out, the discovery in York entailed the burials of over 30 male skeletons, all of them between the ages of twenty and forty.

The strange thing about these skeletons was that they were all decapitated…executed. And they date to the beginning of Caracalla’s reign.

The heads of the bodies were places in strange positions – some by the feet or between the legs and some face down. There are even two skeletons in which the heads were exchanged, the one put with the other.

Archaeologists at work in York (photo: York Archaeological Trust)

Ancient Romans took death and burial seriously, but in this instance there is little respect shown to the skeletons.

From the forensic evidence, experts believe that these men were executed by beheading.

Some of the bones display horrific injuries too. A few show a single, clean cut through the vertebrae of the neck, but others show a brutal end with one skeleton displaying eleven separate cuts to the neck on all sides, plus a massive head trauma.

Praetorian officers

So, who were these men that Caracalla would strike so brutally at them?

The theories vary, but it seems likely that most of them were Praetorians who had been loyal, not only to his father, but to Papinianus, the Praetorian Prefect. These were men Caracalla felt he did not have their loyalty. But there were possibly others among the slain.

It is quite possible that among the dead are the remains of the doctors who refused to help speed the emperor’s passing when requested by Caracalla. Also, Severus’ loyal freedman, Castor, is a possible victim, for he was often at odds with the young Caesar and had Severus’ confidence. Another who had helped to rear Caracalla and Geta, and who is said to have often annoyed the former, was their tutor, Euodus. Was he also among the decapitated dead?

One of the decapitated bodies found as if thrown unceremoniously into the ‘grave’ (photo: York Archaeological Trust)

Whoever the victims of this massacre in Roman York were, they had incurred Caracalla’s anger in some way, and he made them pay for it before dumping their mangled corpses in a cemetery outside the walls of the city.

In Isle of the Blessed, this horrific event is one of the more grisly episodes in a history that, quite frankly, you just can’t make up.

Often, history is unbelievable, and when turning it into fiction, the stakes have to be raised.

So, what happens to the protagonist, Lucius Metellus Anguis, during Caracalla’s rampage in Isle of the Blessed?

You have to read the story to experience it for yourself.

Thank you for reading.

To learn more about the Severan invasion of Scotland as well as the archaeological discovery of the decapitated bodies at York, be sure to watch the Timewatch documentary below.

Tune in next week for the sixth post in The World of Isle of the Blessed when we will take a brief look at the Caledonian campaign and wether it was indeed a victory or not.

Isle of the Blessed is now available in e-book and paperback formats on major retailers. CLICK HERE to learn more.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

The World of Isle of the Blessed – Part IV – The Court of Severus in Eburacum

Welcome back to The World of Isle of the Blessed. We are at the midway point in this blog series about the history, archaeology and research that are related to Isle of the Blessed, the latest novel in the Eagles and Dragons historical fantasy series.

Last week in Part III, we took a tour of Glastonbury, Somerset and some of the sites that are featured in the novel. If you missed it, you can check it out HERE.

This week, in Part IV, we will be meeting some of the main players in the story, the members of Septimius Severus’ imperial court in Eburacum (modern York) when he spent three years there during the Caledonian campaign. Fans of the series will already be familiar with some, but others will be new, but no less interesting or important to this part of the story.

What was it like to be a part of the imperial court?

During the Caledonian campaign, Septimius Severus moved much of his government to Eburacum, the provincial capital of Britannia Inferior, the northern half of the province.

His entourage would have included not only his wife, sons, and other family members, but also an army of slaves, civil servants and more.

With the court moving to Eburacum for over three years, the city would have been bustling with activity. The markets would have been full with merchants and suppliers coming from around the Empire to provide for the great influx of civilians as well as the many thousands of auxiliary troops who came to Caledonia in addition to the legions that were already posted there.

Like any imperial court, however, there were camps with different intentions and interests working in the background. The glens of Scotland were not the only battlefields, and the period of Severus’ rule, perhaps especially during the Caledonian campaign, was a crucial time for the Empire.

So who were the main players at the imperial court, and where did their loyalties lie?

Severus had been ‘dying’ for years, but now, it seemed, the end was near, and the vultures were circling.

First, let us look at the family of Severus himself.

Septimius Severus and his family, Julia Domna, Caracalla and Geta (with face missing)

The Severans were a very interesting family and not without their tales of violence and greed and uniqueness of character. The period is not marked by something so brutal (not yet!) as the psychotic reign of Caligula, but there are certainly many more dimensions. It is a time of militarism, of a weakened Senate, a time of spymasters in various camps. It is a time marked by the rise of lower classes, the presence of powerful women and, over it all, a blanket of religious superstition at the highest levels. Many believe that it is this period in Rome’s history that marks the true beginning of the end of the Roman Empire.

In writing the Eagles and Dragons series, it has become obvious that Septimius Severus (A.D. 193-211) was, perhaps, one of the better emperors in Rome’s history. Sure, he was not Antoninus Pius (few were), but he was far better than say, Tiberius.

He was the son of an Equestrian from Leptis Magna in North Africa. When Commodus was killed in A.D. 192, Severus was governor of Pannonia. When the Praetorians decided to auction the imperial seat a short time later, Severus’ legions declared him Emperor. He subsequently defeated his two opponents who had also declared themselves Emperor: Clodius Albinus and Pescennius Niger. A purge of his opponents’ followers in the Senate and Rome made Severus sole ruler of the largest empire in the world.

Septimius Severus was a martial emperor, the army was his power and he knew how to use it, how to keep the legions loyal and happy. During his reign, he increased troops’ pay and in a radical move, allowed soldiers to get married. Severus was good to his troops, his Pannonian Legions and victorious Parthian veterans, some of whom fought for him in Caledonia. He promoted equestrians to ranks previously reserved for aristocrats and lower ranks to equestrian status. There was a lot of mobility within the rank system at the time due to Severus ‘democratization’ of the army. Remember, this was an emperor who favoured his troops, especially those who distinguished themselves. However, as Lucius Metellus Anguis discovers in Isle of the Blessed, there are prices to be paid. No favour is free, and being close to the imperial court can be perilous.

Emperor Septimius Severus

One of the most interesting characters of the period is Empress Julia Domna. She appears as one of the strongest women in Rome’s history, an equal partner in power with her husband who heeded her advice but also respected her. Julia Domna was the first of the so-called ‘Syrian women’, hailing from Antioch where her father had been the respected high priest of Baal at Emesa (Homs in modern Syria).

Julia Domna was also highly intelligent, known as a philosopher, and had a group of leading scholars and rhetoricians about her. They came from around the Empire to be a part of her circle, to win commissions from her. Her strength also bought her a great many enemies, including the previous Praetorian Prefect and kinsman to Severus, Gaius Fulvius Plautianus. In Caledonia however, years after the death of Plautianus, with her husband’s health deteriorating rapidly, she must have worried a great deal about the dual succession of their sons, Caracalla and Geta, both of whom brought a tenseness to the court.

Julia Domna

By all accounts Caracalla and Geta, Severus’ heirs, were both at odds much of the time. The two brothers seem to have tolerated each other’s presence and competed fiercely back in Rome, even in the hippodrome where at one point they raced each other so aggressively on their chariots that they ended up with several broken bones, almost leaving their father without a successor.

Caracalla seems to have been the favourite of the empress, though in later years Julia Domna does come to Geta’s defence, however much in vain.

One of the main reasons the sources give for the Caledonian campaign was that Septimius Severus believed it would be good for his sons, a way to teach them, give them focus, and prepare them to succeed him together. If anything, however, the angry chasm between the brothers grew worse the more their father’s light faded.

Caracalla

Caracalla, the older of the two brothers and about twenty-two at the time of the campaign, was the more martial of the pair. While Geta was appointed to administer the province from Eburacum, Caracalla went north to fight alongside the troops.

Did resentment build in the young Caesar as he fought, away from the court? Suspicion? Paranoia? Perhaps it was all of that and more? During the first phase of the Caledonian campaign, when Severus was about to agree to peace with Argentocoxus, the Caledonian leader, it is said that Caracalla nearly murdered his father in front of everyone, an episode that plays out in the previous novel, Warriors of Epona.

Caracalla was eager for the imperial throne, so much so that, as Herodian tell us, “he tried to persuade the physicians to harm the old man in their treatments so that he would be rid of him more quickly.”

Denarius of Publius Septimius Geta

And what of Geta, Severus’ younger son and heir?

He seems to have been entrusted with much as far as the administration of Britannia during the Caledonian campaign, so he must have been skilled to some extent. However, from what little we know of him, he was not the survivor that his brother was, and most likely lacked the ambition that was needed in the imperial court.

He was respected by people at court and by the army, but this was perhaps due more to his parentage and position than his actions over the course of his short life.

Whatever impact Geta had over the years, perhaps the most prominent was his ability to anger his brother by way of his mere existence.

Aemilius Papinianus

One of the main players at the imperial court was Aemilius Papinianus, or ‘Papinian’ (A.D. 150-212), Prefect of the Praetorian Guard.

Papinianus is a fascinating man, a man of intelligence who was thrust, perhaps unwillingly, into one of the most powerful and perilous positions in the Roman Empire.

After the death of Gaius Fulvius Plautianus in A.D. 205, as told in Killing the Hydra, Severus appointed Papinianus as prefect of the guard. Before that, he had been a brilliant jurist (lawyer), legal expert, and had served as Severus’ main secretary. He was Syrian, and it seems likely that he was a cousin of the empress, Julia Domna. Perhaps that is why he was so trusted.

Papinianus, in his day, wrote many legal texts and was a great believer in the equity of the law. But what must he have thought to see the risk of all that Severus built over the years – with his advice – turning to ash after the succession of Caracalla and Geta?

It must have been dark days for the reluctant Praetorian Prefect.

Domitius Ulpianus

Lurking in the shadows of Papinianus was his long-time apprentice and fellow jurist, Domitius Ulpianus, or ‘Ulpian’ (A.D. 170-223).

It seems that Ulpianus was also a brilliant lawyer who served as a secretary under Severus (beneath Papinianus), and then became Papinianus’ right hand when the latter was made Praetorian Prefect.

Interestingly, Ulpianus’ writings were very influential on Roman law and later, on the laws of Medieval Europe.

But what must he have thought constantly playing second to Papinianus? Did the apprentice ever feel jealous of the master, or try to outdo him? We don’t know for certain, but what we do know is that he survived the tough years ahead, and so he must have been close to Caracalla. In fact, Ulpianus went on to become sole Praetorian Prefect in A.D. 223 under Emperor Severus Alexander. He must have been a survivor.

A Roman tutor and his students

There are two other men who played a very prominent role at the imperial court, who had the emperor and empress’ utmost trust, but who had also incurred the wrath of Caracalla.

Euodus, was the long-time tutor of Caracalla and Geta, and was still with the family when they went north during the Caledonian campaign. It seems that life was easier when the young caesars were smaller, but as the years went by and the animosity between them grew worse, Euodus’ job was more to try and nurture harmony between the brothers, something he evidently failed at.

This man may have felt he had much influence at court, and perhaps he did. But his constant attentions, his preachings perhaps, would prove to be more of an aggravation to Caracalla. Euodus would pay for it.

Roman freedmen

Likewise, Castor, who was Septimius Severus’ most trusted chamberlain, had a prominent role at court. He was a freedman of Severus’, elevated from a lowly rank to having the emperor’s ear, and his confidence, on a daily basis.

It is said that Castor was one of the imperial court members who most annoyed Caracalla. He was there at every turn, even when Severus reprimanded his son for attempting to kill him in front of the Caledonii at the end of the first campaign.

As Cassius Dio tell us, both Castor and Euodus did not fare well when Severus finally passed.

Astrology played an enormous role in the life and decisions of Septimius Severus

There were others who played a crucial role in the imperial court and would have been present at Eburacum during Severus’ time there.

As almost fanatical believers in astrology, Septimius Severus and Julia Domna would have had their primary astrologer, possibly named Artemidoros, with them at all times. He would have done daily readings for them, advised on any action, civic, personal, or military, and was probably the one who determined the date of Severus’ death before they even left Rome.

The sources say little to nothing about him, but his role would have been an important one, his influence upon the emperor and empress great.

Artist impression of a Roman doctor at work

As someone who would have been ill for many years, Septimius Severus would have required medical attention on a daily basis, especially at the end. His physicians would have been there, at the heart of imperial politics, hearing and seeing much, including Caracalla’s aforementioned request to speed his father’s passing.

These doctors, who had refused Caracalla’s request (threat?), likely grew extremely wary as their patient’s health deteriorated more by the day in the British climate.

Roman York (Eburacum), c. A.D. 210. Aerial reconstruction by Tracy Croft, English Heritage

To this point, we’ve discussed the people whom we know to have been present at the imperial court. In truth, however, there would have been many hundreds (thousands?) who were a part of the imperial machine and civil service who were present in Eburacum. After all, the Empire was being administered from there during that time.

There are also some other key players who may have been present.

It is quite possible that Julia Domna’s sister, Julia Maesa, may have been present. After her sister, Julia Maesa was perhaps one of the most influential of the ‘Syrian Woman’. She and her daughters, Julia Soaemias Bassiana and Julia Avita Mamaea (mother of later Emperor Severus Alexander) would be extremely influential in the years to come.

It would not be surprising if Julia Maesa were present at court, close to the heart of things. She was apparently close to Caracalla too, and this would have protected her and her daughters. She survived until A.D. 226.

Gold ‘aureus’ of Julia Maesa

With much of the government following the emperor, one has to wonder if there were not also a certain number of senators present in Eburacum as well.

If so, it is possible that Cassius Dio was there. As the primary, contemporary source for the reign of Septimius Severus, it would not be surprising if he were present in Britannia for at least a portion of the campaign.

How many Roman senators might have been present in Eburacum? Was Cassius Dio among them?

Then there is Caracalla’s wife, Plautilla, and her brother Plautius. Were they present? Or did Caracalla want to keep her as far from him as possible, as it was said that she was ever an annoyance to him in previous years.

If the names of Plautilla and Plautius are somewhat familiar to you, it may be that that is because they are the children of Gaius Fulvius Plautianus, the traitorous Praetorian Prefect who was dispatched by Caracalla and others in a plot in A.D. 205, with Julia Domna no doubt working toward that end in the background.

As for his wife and brother-in-law, Cassius Dio said that Caracalla had them killed when to took power, but whether it was immediately, or upon his return to Rome is not stated.

Map of Roman Britain prior to reign of Severus (Wikimedia Commons)

Another person who may have been in Eburacum for much of the time, and who may have found his work partially hi-jacked by the presence of the imperial family and the administrations of Geta, was Gaius Junius Faustinus Postumianus. He was the provincial governor of Britannia Superior, based in Londinium.

Faustinus was an officer in the army previously, before being appointed governor. What did he think about the presence of the imperial court in Britannia, or the waging of war at the borders of his province? No doubt the situation brought him many benefits, but also many headaches, especially when Severus passed from the world.

Of one thing we can be certain, and that is that an imperial court was not a place for the faint of heart.

Who survived, and who fell? Did being close to Severus’ sun mean you would get burned, or thrive?

For a writer of historical fiction, these are interesting questions to be explored with different answers for each player in the drama.

If anything, life at the court of Severus in Eburacum would have been anything but dull, despite the fact that they were on the virtual edge of the Empire.

Thank you for reading.

Isle of the Blessed is now available in e-book and paperback from all major on-line retailers. If you haven’t read any books in the Eagles and Dragons series yet, you can start with the #1 bestselling A Dragon among the Eagles for just 0.99! Or get the first prequel novel, The Dragon: Genesis, for free by signing-up for the newsletter HERE.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

The World of The Dragon: Genesis – Part VII Sibling Rivalry: The Plot to Kill Commodus

Commodus was guilty of many unseemly deeds, and killed a great many people.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History)

Salvete, history-lovers!

Welcome back to The World of The Dragon: Genesis, the blog series about the research that went into our latest historical fantasy release set in the world of ancient Rome.

If you missed part six, about the Antonine Plague, you can read it HERE.

In this seventh and final part of the blog series, we’re going to be taking a brief look at the children of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor (‘the younger’), the reign of Emperor Commodus, and the plots against his life.

Was Commodus really the monster we imagine him to be, the megalomaniacal ruler we were confronted with in the movie Gladiator?

Read on to learn more. 

Faustina Minor and Marcus Aurelius as Venus and Mars – Capitoline Museum

Some people view the reigns of Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius as a sort of golden age of rulership in the Roman World. That was certainly true of Antoninus Pius, and perhaps less for Marcus Aurelius’ reign, but any sense of a golden age certainly ended with the accession of Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus who ruled as sole emperor from A.D. 180-192.

It was at this time that the Roman Empire perhaps took a turn for the worst. The time of the ‘five good emperors’ was at an end.

Because of popular culture, the two children of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor that most people are aware of are Commodus and his sister, Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla, or ‘Lucilla’. However, what many may not know is that Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor had thirteen children together over the period of their thirty-year marriage.

Most of these young Aurelii died young. There was the first-born, Domitia Faustina, who died at the age of five in A.D. 151. Then there were Titus Aelius Antoninus and Titus Aelius Aurelius who both died in 149. After the birth of Lucilla in 150, two more children were born, Annia Galeria Aurelia Faustina, and Tiberius Aelius Antoninus who died in 151 and 155, respectively, before another unknown child died in 157. Titus Aurelius Fulvus Antoninus, Commodus’ twin brother, died at the age of four in 165, then Marcus Annius Verus Caesar passed at the age of seven in 169, followed by a young Hadrianus some time after that.

But there were other surviving siblings of Commodus and Lucilla who are not often mentioned in the history books, notably three more sisters: Annia Aurelia Fadilla (c. 159-211), Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor (160-212), and the youngest of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor’s children, Vibia Aurelia Sabina (170-216).

Obviously, infant mortality rates were very high in the ancient world, even for the upper classes. But, in hindsight, when one looks at the number of children Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor had, despite their mortality rates, one has to wonder if the emperor was indeed obsessed with having an blood-heir to the throne, despite the fact that he and his illustrious predecessors came to the throne through adoption.

Before we look at the reign of Commodus, let us first look at the children of Marcus Aurelius who did survive to play a part in the drama that was to unfold after the death of their father in A.D. 180.

Statue of Lucilla in the Bardo Museum, Tunis

Annia Aurelia Galeria Lucilla (150-182) was the eldest daughter to survive her parents. She was born about eleven years before Commodus. As we know, she was betrothed and wed as a teenager to her father’s co-ruler, Lucius Verus. After Verus passed away from illness, perhaps from the plague his troops had brought back from the East, she was forced to marry Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus, a respected general of her father’s who was quite a bit older than her, having been born in A.D. 125.

Snapshot of family tree of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor (Wikimedia Commons – Nerva/Antonine Dynasty)

Lucilla’s younger sister Annia Aurelia Fadilla (c. 159-211) was born and raised in Rome and was married to Marcus Peducaeus Plautius Quintillus, a senator, consul and augur. He was the nephew of Lucius Verus, but also became one of Commodus’ main advisors.

Fadilla and her family lived in a private palace on the Capitoline Hill, and it was she whom the ancient author, Herodian, says warned Commodus about the snaky freedman, Cleander, and a plot upon the emperor in 189.

But more on plots later…

Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor – sister of Commodus and Lucilla

Another sister of Commodus and Lucilla was Annia Cornificia Faustina Minor (160-112). She was married to an African Roman by the name of Marcus Petronius Sura Mamertinus who was consul in 182. This Faustina Minor and her family may have been with her father, Marcus Aurelius at the time of his death in Germania.

Around 190 or 192, Commodus ordered the deaths of Faustina Minor’s husband, son, and most of her in-laws. So, relations with her brother were strained at best. But, she survived Commodus’ reign, and even had an affair with the short-lived Emperor Pertinax. She lived into her fifties until, in A.D. 212, her death was ordered by Emperor Caracalla. Rather than be executed, this daughter of Marcus Aurelius committed suicide.

Vibia Aurelia Sabina – youngest sister of Commodus and Lucilla (Wikimedia Commons)

The youngest and longest surviving child of Marcus Aurelius and Faustina Minor was Vibia Aurelia Sabina (c. 170-216). She was born in Pannonia and travelled much throughout the empire.

The image we have of young Sabina is of an innocent, kind girl growing up with chaos all around her. Before her father’s death in 180, she was betrothed to an African Roman senator by the name of Lucius Antistius Burrus from near Hippo Regius. They were eventually married in Rome, after which Sabina moved to North Africa with her husband.

Despite a problem with her husband, which we will get into shortly, Sabina went on to marry Lucius Aurelius Agaclytus, a freedman of her father’s who may have foiled a plot against Marcus Aurelius. They had no children, but Sabina became a prominent Italian citizen of Roman North Africa who was well-loved by the Romans and native Berber population. She fared much better than her sisters.

Denarius of Commodus

And what of Commodus, the ruler at the centre of this family of orphan Aurelii?

Well, Commodus comes across as someone who was given too much power far too early, kind of like a child star who hits it big at a young age and then spirals out of control.

At the age of fifteen, in A.D. 177, Commodus became joint ruler with his father and was given the titles of ‘Caesar’, ‘Imperator’ and ‘Augustus’.

Cassius Dio, a contemporary of the period, gives us an account of his character:

This man [Commodus] was not naturally wicked, but, on the contrary, as guileless as any man that ever lived. His great simplicity, however, together with his cowardice, made him the slave of his companions, and it was through them that he at first, out of ignorance, missed the better life and then was led on into lustful and cruel habits, which soon became second nature. And this, I think, Marcus clearly perceived beforehand. Commodus was nineteen years old when his father died, leaving him many guardians, among whom were numbered the best men of the senate. But their suggestions and counsels Commodus rejected, and after making a truce with the barbarians he rushed to Rome; for he hated all exertion and craved the comfortable life of the city.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 1)

At first, Commodus did seem to make an attempt to rule well. He dealt (not personally) with minor problems like a Caledonian breech of the Antonine Wall in 183, and the subsequent mutiny there that was put down by Pertinax. He also organized shipments of agricultural produce from Africa to Rome, and freed the tenants of Roman growers in that province from a sort of servitude.

But these small gestures, it seems, were not enough to dissuade his detractors or would-be assassins.

The Roman Forum (by Becchetti)

Commodus devoted most of his life to ease and to horses and to combats of wild beasts and of men. In fact, besides all that he did in private, he often slew in public large numbers of men and beasts as well. For example, all alone with his own hands, he dispatched five hippopotami together with two elephants on two successive days; and he also killed rhinoceroses and a camelopard. This is what I have to say with reference to his career as a whole. 

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 9) 

And what of his siblings? How did they feel about their emperor/brother?

We already know that Fadilla helped to foil a plot by Cleander against her brother in 189, but not all of Commodus’ sisters were so forgiving of their brother.

The plot we do know of for certain is that of Lucilla’s. Hers was the first plot against Commodus.

In A.D. 182, Lucilla and her cousin, Ummidius Quadratus, a Roman senator, plotted to kill Commodus and place Lucilla’s stepson, Pompeianus (son of her husband, the old general Tiberius Claudius Pompeianus) upon the imperial throne. It is supposed that Lucilla and her stepson may even have been intimately involved.

It must have been the case that Commodus quickly showed himself to be incapable of rule, for Lucilla and her fellow conspirators wasted little time in plotting. However, the assassination attempt was badly botched and the younger Pompeianus and Quadratus were executed, and Lucilla was exiled to the island of Capri where she was later murdered at her brother’s command.

Oddly enough, Lucilla’s husband, the elder Pompeianus, was not punished, even though it was his son she had tried to put on the throne. The general subsequently retired.

The historian, Herodian, describes the failed plot:

He sent out to rule the provinces men who were either his companions in crime or were recommended to him by criminals. He became so detested by the senate that he in his turn was moved with cruel passion for the destruction of that great order, and from having been despised he became bloodthirsty.

Finally the actions of Commodus drove Quadratus and Lucilla, with the support of Tarrutenius

Paternus, the prefect of the guard, to form a plan for his assassination. The task of slaying him was assigned to Claudius Pompeianus, a kinsman. But he, as soon as he had an opportunity to fulfil his mission, strode up to Commodus with a drawn sword, and, bursting out with these words, “This dagger the senate sends thee,” betrayed the plot like a fool, and failed to accomplish the design, in which many others along with himself were implicated. After this fiasco, first Pompeianus and Quadratus were executed, and then Norbana and Norbanus and Paralius; and the latter’s mother and Lucilla were driven into exile.

(Herodian, Historia Augusta, The Life of Commodus, 3-4) 

Lucilla and Commodus in the movie Gladiator

It is not known whether Lucilla had been in touch with her younger sisters about the plot against Commodus. One supposes that they did not know, especially Fadilla, who would save him from Cleander later, or Sabina who was just twelve years old at the time.

What we do know is that after Lucilla’s betrayal, things changed for the worse in Commodus. The failed plot seemed to have ushered in a reign of terror. He became more hostile toward the senate and executed many, including his chief advisor Tigidius Perennis in 185, whom he replaced with Cleander.

Commodus, at this time, also came under the influence his mistress, Marcia, and his chamberlain, Eclectus. He tried to appease the populace by putting on extravagant games and shows, and to ingratiate himself to the troops by increasing their pay. All of this led to a huge financial crisis.

And what did he do to alleviate the situation? He confiscated the property of the rich.

Commodus was good at making enemies.

But his megalomania went even further, for he renamed Rome ‘Colonia Commodiana’ (Commodus’ Colony), and came to believe that he was Hercules incarnate.

Commodus as Hercules

Now this “Golden One”, this “Hercules”, this “god” (for he was even given this name, too) suddenly drove into Rome one afternoon from his suburb and conducted thirty horse-races in the space of two hours. These proceedings had much to do with his running short of funds. He was also fond, it is true, of bestowing gifts, and frequently gave largesses to the populace at the rate of one hundred and forty denarii per man; but most of his expenditures were for the objects I have mentioned. Hence he brought accusations against both men and women, slaying some and to others selling their lives for their property. And finally he ordered us, our wives, and our children each to contribute two gold pieces every year on his birthday as a kind of first-fruits, and commanded the senators in all the other cities to give five denarii apiece. Of this, too, he saved nothing, but spent it all disgracefully on his wild beasts and his gladiators.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 16)

Commodus’ increasing brutality, as well as his neglect of duty, drove other parties to seek his end. In 188 another conspiracy against him came about, but this time it involved the husband of Commodus’ youngest sister, Sabina.

Unbeknownst to Sabina, who was just eighteen years old at the time, Lucius Antistius Burrus plotted with others against Commodus. Details about this plot are lacking, but we do know that it failed and that Burrus was put to death.

Sabina, however, was spared, perhaps because she was not involved in the plot. She remained in North Africa and married Agaclytus to survive the rest of her family until A.D. 217.

The year after Burrus’ plot against Commodus, in 189, there came the plot that was set by Cleander, and foiled by Fadilla and, according to Herodian, another sister, possibly Faustina Minor, whose family had not yet been executed by her brother.

One can imagine the paranoia that must have beset Commodus (and indeed his sisters!) at this time, and how it would have fuelled the fires of his mania.

All plots upon Emperor Commodus had failed to that point, and many people had been executed in the wake of those failures…that is…until the very end of A.D. 192.

On New Year’s Day, in A.D. 193, Commodus was due to present himself to the people of Rome as Consul and Gladiator. He had reached new heights of violence at that point in time, and had become a threat to everyone.

The Emperor Commodus Leaving the Arena at the Head of the Gladiators (by Edwin Howland Blashfield)

Cassius Dio was present at that time, and gives us our most detailed, surviving account of the day and the plot involving many players, including Commodus’ mistress, Marcia, his chamberlain, Eclectus, the Praetorian Prefect, Aemilius Laetus, and a famous athlete by the name of Narcissus:

This fear was shared by all, by us senators as well as by the rest. And here is another thing that he did to us senators which gave us every reason to look for our death. Having killed an ostrich and cut off his head, he came up to where we were sitting, holding the head in his left hand and in his right hand raising aloft his bloody sword; and though he spoke not a word, yet he wagged his head with a grin, indicating that he would treat us in the same way. And many would indeed have perished by the sword on the spot, for laughing at him (for it was laughter rather than indignation that overcame us), if I had not chewed some laurel leaves, which I got from my garland, myself, and persuaded the others who were sitting near me to do the same, so that in the steady movement of our armies we might conceal the fact that we were laughing.

After the events described he raised our spirits. For when he was intending to fight once more as a gladiator, he bade us enter the amphitheatre in the equestrian garb and in our woollen cloaks, a thing that we never do when going to the amphitheatre except when one of the emperors has passed away; and on the last day his helmet was carried out by the gates through which the dead are taken out. These events caused absolutely every one of us to believe that we were surely about to be rid of him.

And he actually did die, or rather was slain, before long. For Laetus and Eclectus, displeased at the things he was doing, and also inspired by fear, in view of the threats he made against them because they tried to prevent him from acting in this way, formed a plot against him. It seems that Commodus wished to slay both the consuls, Erucius Clarus and Sosius Falco, and on New Year’s Day to issue forth both as consul and secutor from the quarters of the gladiators; in fact, he had the first cell there, as if he were one of them. Let no one doubt this statement. Indeed, he actually cut off the head of the Colossus, and substituted for it a likeness of his own head; then, having given it a club and placed a bronze lion at its feet, so as to cause it to look like Hercules, he inscribed on it, in addition to the list of his titles which I have already indicated, these words: “Champion of secutores; only left-handed fighter to conquer twelve times (as I recall the number) one thousand men.”

For these reasons Laetus and Eclectus attacked him, after making Marcia their confidant. At any rate, on the last day of the year, at night, when people were busy with the holiday, they caused Marcia to administer poison to him in some beef. But the immoderate use of wine and baths, which was habitual with him, kept him from succumbing at once, and instead he vomited up some of it; and thus suspecting the truth, he indulged in some threats. Then they sent Narcissus, an athlete, against him, and caused this man to strangle him while he was taking a bath. Such was the end of Commodus, after he had ruled twelve years, nine months, and fourteen days. He had lived thirty-one years and four months; and with him the line of the genuine Aurelii ceased to rule.

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, Book LXXIII, 21-22)

Marcus Aurelius and family performing a sacrificium

It is a pathetic end to the rule of the dynasty, and one can’t help but wonder how Commodus’ surviving sisters – Fadilla, Faustina Minor, and Sabina – felt once their brother was gone. Faustina Minor may have felt justice had been done, even if she may not have been involved, for she had lost her family to her brother’s brutality. But Fadilla had saved him previously, and Sabina probably barely knew him. The dangers to the three of them would come later, during the reign of the winning dynasty in the subsequent civil war, the Severan dynasty, and the rule of Caracalla, another son who was not the ruler that his father was.

What was it about imperial fathers and their lesser sons?

Marcus Aurelius, by all accounts was a wise man, and yet, despite having inherited the imperial throne through adoption, he appointed a lesser person as his successor. The same occurred with Septimius Severus when he appointed his two sons Caracalla and Geta to succeed him. Severus even sought to repair the image of Commodus in 195, even going so far as to deify him!

Under Aurelius and Severus, the empire reached great heights, and yet it could hardly have fallen lower under each of their sons.

But such is the world of family and politics in ancient Rome. It doesn’t always make sense to us today, but it certainly is fascinating and entertaining.

We do hope you’ve enjoyed The World of The Dragon: Genesis blog series.

If you’ve missed any of the posts in this seven-part series, you can read them all together HERE.

If you have not already downloaded your FREE COPY of The Dragon: Genesis, you can do so by CLICKING HERE. 

Lastly, if you have read the book, please consider leaving a small review or comment at the bottom of the page HERE.

Eagles and Dragons Publishing will be taking a short summer break but will be returning in a few weeks with more posts about history and some exciting, highly-anticipated releases.

Stay tuned… Happy Summer, and thank you for reading.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

The World of The Dragon: Genesis – Part VI – The Antonine Plague: Pestilence and Pandemic in Ancient Rome

Welcome back to The World of The Dragon: Genesis. In our last post delving into he research for our latest historical fantasy novel, The Dragon: Genesis, we looked at the joint rule of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus. If you missed it, you can read it HERE.

In Part VI of this blog series, we’re going to be looking at one of the most brutal enemies Rome has ever had to face, an enemy that slipped past the frontiers and penetrated the heart of Rome itself.

We’re not talking about barbarian tribes north of the Danube frontier, or waves of Parthian cataphracts from the East. No, the most deadly enemy Rome had to contend with during the reign of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus was the plague.

And it almost completely destroyed the Roman Empire.

The ‘Antonine Plague’, as it is now known, began in A.D. 165 and lasted into the early 180s. It was the largest pandemic Rome had ever had to deal with to that point in its history.

This was an enemy that did not discriminate when it came to victims.

…after the victory over the Parthians, there occurred so destructive a pestilence, that at Rome, and throughout Italy and the provinces, the greater part of the inhabitants, and almost all the troops, sunk under the disease.

(Eutropius, Roman History, Book VIII)

Before we get into the few specifics of the Antonine Plague, we should first take a look at how Romans viewed disease, and what could have started a pandemic of these proportions.

Inscription dedicated to Goddess Mefitis (from www.katherinemcdonald.net)

In the ancient world, Roman medical practices were a strange mixture of practical Greek methods and Roman religious beliefs.

Disease and plague were to be feared, and the gods who were associated with them were to be propitiated.

In the Roman world, it was believed that sulphurous fumes that came out of the earth could be responsible for epidemics and plagues. As a result, the Romans made offerings to the Mefitis, a goddess of sulphurous fumes and of plagues.

A cult of Mefitis began in the volcanic regions of central and southern Italy, and her main shrine was located in Samnite territory on the slopes of the volcano of Ampsanctus.

In Rome, there was a temple of Mefitis on the Esquiline hill, and at Cremona, in the North of Italy, there was a temple dedicated to the goddess of plagues just outside the city walls.

Fumes coming out of the earth… Mefitis’ domain.

In addition to offerings to the Goddess of Plagues and Fumes, the Romans also held games in the hopes that these – also an aspect of religion – would help them to avoid disease and keep this deadly enemy from their doors.

The Ludi Saeculares, or Secular Games (also known as the Tarentine Games) were held once every century with the intention that they would help Rome avoid pestilence.

The fist Secular Games were held by the consul Publius Valerius Poplicola in 509 B.C. at the altar of Dis and Proserpina located on the Campus Martius at a spot known as ‘Tarentum’, hence the other name of ‘Tarentine Games’.

In addition to sport, the games also included three days and three nights of stage plays.

One has to wonder how it was decided when the Ludi Saeculares were to take place, and details are sketchy about this. But, we do know of two other instances in which the games were held.

Remains of the Temple of Apollo on the Palatine Hill

In 17 B.C. the Emperor Augustus held the games which culminated in a ceremony at the temple of Apollo, on the Palatine hill, a temple Augustus built. Among other things, Apollo was a god of healing. (Those who have read Children of Apollo, will be familiar with this temple.)

The Ludi Saeculares were also held in A.D. 204 by none other than Septimius Severus who came out the winner in the civil war that followed the death of Commodus, Marcus Aurelius’ son and heir.

Severus’ games came in the wake of the Antonine Plague, so it is likely that after the devastation, it was believed the gods needed to be propitiated once more.

What might have been the causes of the spread of disease in ancient Rome?

There are several possibilities.

First of all, sewage and bad hygiene were a prime suspect.

When we think of ancient Rome, we tend to think of baths, running water, pristine white marble etcetera, but this is not entirely accurate. Despite the presence of running water and sewer systems, the truth was that many Romans did not have access to these things, especially in poorer neighbourhoods like the Suburra. In ancient Rome, most sewers were privately owned by the rich, and so, in the poor, tightly-packed neighbourhoods where tenement blocks rose up from the streets, often the only place to dump faeces, garbage and other waste was directly onto the street. With the preponderance of flies and dogs around all this filth, bacteria was everywhere.

Another reason why disease might have spread were the public baths.

Baths of Diocletian (by unknown artist)

This seems contrary to what one might expect, but despite the Roman propensity for bathing and cleanliness, the hot water used in the baths of Rome and elsewhere was not cleaned chemically like today (using chlorine). As a result, bacteria would have thrived in the public baths.

Diet could also play a role in the spread of disease, especially as many Romans were malnourished. The diet of the average Roman consisted mainly of grains, distributed by the state. They had some vegetables and fruit, but meat was actually uncommon, and when they did have meat, there were no food standards to ensure freshness and quality. And so, food was often contaminated with parasites, as was the drinking water of most people.

Disease spread easily in densely populated areas, and as one of the most populous cities in the world at the time, Rome was especially vulnerable. This was certainly true in poorer neighbourhoods where many people shared small spaces, making the transmittal of disease easier.

The Antonine Plague was said to be transmitted through touch.

Lastly, another reason for the possible spread of plague and disease was deforestation around Rome and especially along the banks of the River Tiber. The clearing of trees led to the creation of rising water and an increase in the size of the marshes near Rome where mosquitoes and other carriers of diseases, such as malaria, flourished.

Coastal lagoon along shores of Lake Fogliano in the Pontine Plain – breeding ground for mosquitoes and diseases like malaria (Wikimedia Commons)

Part of the The Dragon: Genesis takes place during the Antonine Plague which began in A.D. 165.

This particular disease, however, did not originate in the city of Rome.

From A.D. 161-166, Emperor Lucius Verus was waging war against the Parthians in the East. While they were in Seleucia, a sickness began to spread among the troops of his legions, a sickness that they brought back with them to Rome and other parts of the Empire.

It was his [Lucius Verus] fate to seem to bring a pestilence with him to whatever provinces he traversed on his return, and finally even to Rome. It is believed that this pestilence originated in Babylonia, where a pestilential vapour arose in a temple of Apollo from a golden casket which a soldier had accidentally cut open, and that it spread thence over Parthia and the whole world. Lucius Verus, however, is not to blame for this so much as Cassius, who stormed Seleucia in violation of an agreement, after it had received our soldiers as friends. This act, indeed, many excuse, and among them Quadratus, the historian of the Parthian war, who blames the Seleucians as the first to break the agreement.

(Historia Augusta, The Life of Lucius Verus, 8)

The troops return!

What little we know of the disease comes from the observations of the physician, Galen, who was called upon by Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus at the time, and who recorded some of his observations in scattered texts, including his Methodus Medendi. 

From Galen’s descriptions, it is thought today that the Antonine Plague was an outbreak of small pox. The symptoms included severe fever, diarrhea, pharyngitis, and on the ninth day of the illness, the appearance of skin eruptions (boils or pustules).

Spread of Antonine Plague (map from romeacrosseurope.com)

And there was such a pestilence, besides, that the dead were removed in carts and wagons. About this time, also, the two emperors ratified certain very stringent laws on burial and tombs, in which they even forbade any one to build a tomb at his country-place, a law still in force. Thousands were carried off by the pestilence, including many nobles, for the most prominent of whom [the emperor] erected statues. Such, too, was his kindliness of heart that he had funeral ceremonies performed for the lower classes even at the public expense…

(Historia Augusta, Life of Marcus Aurelius, Part I, 13)

The Antonine Plague brought devastation to Rome and the Empire at large. Cassius Dio wrote that it caused up to 2000 deaths a day in Rome itself. It has been estimated that there were approximately 5 million deaths from this pandemic, and that about one third of the Empire’s population was wiped out.

One theory for the widespread destruction wrought by the Antonine Plague is that this was the very first time small pox appeared in the Empire, and so, without any sort of prior immunity, the people were as lambs to the slaughter.

It also massacred the army in which it had started, spreading to Gaul and along the entire Rhine and Danube frontier. Rome’s defences were down, and the tribes to the north chose this moment to attack.

Marcus Aurelius’ war with the Germanic tribes – scene from the movie Gladiator

It is hard to imagine the terror spreading across the Empire during this terrible time in which Rome was beset by the Marcomanni and their allies in the north and the plague at its heart.

Eventually, the barbarians were defeated – and that alone is a wonder! – but the plague, even though it eventually stopped, left the Roman Empire scarred. Entire towns were wiped out and outposts were lost because the troops were too sick to fight.

It has also been hypothesized that the Roman embassies that Marcus Aurelius had sent to China’s Han emperor were perhaps responsible for the outbreak of plague that was recorded there.

There can be little doubt that the Antonine Plague was perhaps the most deadly crisis Rome had ever been faced with. The plague did not discriminate, striking at rich and poor, weak and strong alike. It seems likely that it was also responsible for the death of Emperor Lucius Verus, who died two years into the northern wars, and maybe even Rome’s great philosopher emperor, Marcus Aurelius, who passed in A.D. 180 just before the end of the pandemic.

Relief of Emperor Marcus Aurelius performing a sacrifice

He died in the following manner: When he began to grow ill, he summoned his son and besought him first of all not to think lightly of what remained of the war, lest he seem a traitor to the state. And when his son replied that his first desire was good health, he allowed him to do as he wished, only asking him to wait a few days and not leave at once. Then, being eager to die, he refrained from eating or drinking, and so aggravated the disease. On the sixth day he summoned his friends, and with derision for all human affairs and scorn for death, said to them: “Why do you weep for me, instead of thinking about the pestilence and about death which is the common lot of us all?” And when they were about to retire he groaned and said: “If you now grant me leave to go, I bid you farewell and pass on before.” And when he was asked to whom he commended his son he replied: “To you, if he prove worthy, and to the immortal gods”. The army, when they learned of his sickness, lamented loudly, for they loved him singularly. On the seventh day he was weary and admitted only his son, and even him he at once sent away in fear that he would catch the disease. And when his son had gone, he covered his head as though he wished to sleep and during the night he breathed his last. It is said that he foresaw that after his death Commodus would turn out as he actually did, and expressed the wish that his son might die, lest, as he himself said, he should become another Nero, Caligula, or Domitian.

(Historia Augusta, Life of Marcus Aurelius, Part II, 28)

I hope you’ve ‘enjoyed’, or at least learned something from this post on the Antonine Plague and disease in ancient Rome.

If you have not read our latest historical fantasy novel The Dragon: Genesis, you can download a copy for FREE by Clicking Here.

Stay tuned for the seventh and final part in The World of The Dragon: Genesis blog series in which we will look briefly at the sibling rivalry that beset the reign of one of Rome’s most infamous emperors – Commodus.

Thank you for reading.

Facebooktwitterpinterest

The World of The Dragon: Genesis – Part V – The Two Emperors of Rome

Welcome back to The World of The Dragon: Genesis. In our last post on the research that went into this latest book, we looked at the Evocati of ancient Rome. If you missed it, you can read it HERE.

The Dragon: Genesis spans the reigns of a few emperors. It begins during the reign of Antoninus Pius, but then moves on into unique period for Rome, a time when it was ruled jointly by two emperors, Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus.

Surprisingly, as we shall see, these two men ruled amicably, despite their differences. However, the peace of Antoninus’ reign was over, and the new emperors faced pressures and threats from outside.

Map of the Roman Empire at its greatest extent (Oxford Research Encyclopedias)

First, we need to set the stage.

By the time Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus came to the imperial throne, the Roman Empire had enjoyed a period of unprecedented peace under the well-loved emperor, Antoninus Pius, who had reigned for the longest period of time since Augustus, from A.D. 138-161.

One of the only sources that survives for this period in Rome’s history is the Historia Augusta, a highly-contested, often doubted, source that relates some of the details of the reigns of certain of Rome’s emperors.

During Antoninus’ reign, a young Marcus Aurelius was already making himself known in the upper echelons of Roman society, so much so that he was a favourite of Emperor Hadrian before Antoninus Pius donned the purple.

It is believed that Emperor Hadrian would have liked for Marcus Aurelius to succeed him, but because of his young age, he chose Antoninus Pius. Prior to his death in A.D. 138, Hadrian, who cared much for the young Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, seems to have pressured Antoninus Pius into adopting them, thus ensuring their possible involvement in a later succession. Hadrian seems to have been a forward-thinking man.

Antoninus Pius, of course, agreed.

Marcus did not seem suitable, being at the time but eighteen years of age; and Hadrian chose for adoption Antoninus Pius, the uncle-in‑law of Marcus, with the provision that Pius should in turn adopt Marcus and that Marcus should adopt Lucius Commodus. And it was on the day that Verus was adopted that he dreamed that he had shoulders of ivory, and when he asked if they were capable of bearing a burden, he found them much stronger than before. When he discovered, moreover, that Antoninus had adopted him, he was appalled rather than overjoyed, and when told to move to the private home of Hadrian, reluctantly departed from his mother’s villa. And when the members of his household asked him why he was sorry to receive royal adoption, he enumerated to them the evil things that sovereignty involved.

(Historia Augusta, The Life of Marcus Aurelius 5)

Then, in A.D. 140, Marcus Aurelius was made consul with Antoninus and given the title of ‘Caesar’ which officially made him Antoninus’ heir.

Now, Antoninus, who was married to Hadrian’s niece, Faustina (the Elder), did have four children, two sons and two daughters, but they all died young, except for his daughter Faustina (the Younger).

In A.D. 146, Marcus Aurelius was married to Faustina the Younger, further cementing his role as Antoninus’ successor, a role he is said not to have wanted.

Gold aureus of Antoninus Pius

As time passed, Antoninus Pius grew older and weaker, and Marcus Aurelius took on more administrative duties for the empire, especially after the death of Antoninus’ trusted Praetorian Prefect, Gavius Maximus.

Then, in A.D. 161, while at an estate in Etruria, Antoninus grew ill and called the imperial council  together to formally pass the state to Marcus Aurelius. It is said that one of the last words he uttered when a tribune came to him for the night’s watchword was aequanimitas, or equanimity.

One has to wonder if Antoninus Pius really did feel a true sense of calm as he faced death, knowing that he had ruled well and that he was leaving the Empire in capable hands.

The reign of Marcus Aurelius was underway.

Marcus Aurelius

But Marcus Aurelius did not want to rule, and so the wheels were set in motion for the reign of two emperors and friends.

However, before we go further, let us look at these two men. Who were Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus?

Marcus Aurelius was born Marcus Annius Verus, and studies played a large role in the young man’s life. His teachers included Diognetus and Tuticius Proclus who seems to have introduced him to philosophy, a subject that Marcus took to immediately.

Philosophy played a large role in the life of Marcus Aurelius, affecting his life and his character. Even in A.D. 140 when he was made Emperor Antoninus’ heir, Marcus began studying with the sophist, Herodes Atticus, the man who built many monuments in Greece, including the great theatre beside the Acropolis of Athens. He also studied with Marcus Cornelius Fronto.

But it was the philosopher Quintus Junius Rusticus who is said to have introduced Marcus to the ways of stoicism that he would come to love and adhere to. Marcus Aurelius’ work, Meditations, was the product of his stoic view of the world and it is still widely read to this day.

One could say that stoicism is what got Marcus Aurelius through the more difficult times of his reign.

As far as a home life, Marcus Aurelius had thirteen children with his wife/cousin, Faustina the Younger, and among these were Lucilla and Commodus.

The Philosopher’s Life? Mosaic from Pompeii depicting Plato and students

It seems that Hadrian’s favour of Marcus, and the condition he might have placed on Antoninus to adopt Marcus in order to succeed, weighed heavily on the young philosopher. Marcus was Antoninus’ sole heir, but when Antoninus died in A.D. 161, and the Senate made Marcus ‘Augustus’, ‘Imperator’, and ‘Pontifex Maximus’, it is said that he resisted. He preferred the philosophic life, but his stoicism compelled him to accept his duty, and despite his reluctance, he rose to the challenge:

Toward the people he acted just as one acts in a free state. He was at all times exceedingly reasonable both in restraining men from evil and in urging them to good, generous in rewarding and quick to forgive, thus making bad men good, and good men very good, and he even bore with unruffled temper the insolence of not a few.

(Historia Augusta, The Life of Marcus Aurelius 12)

The Senate was going to confirm him as sole emperor, but Marcus refused unless Lucius Verus, his ‘brother’ beneath Antonius Pius, was given equal powers.

The Senate approved, and though officially, Marcus had more authority, Rome had two emperors for the very first time in its history: Imperator Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, and Imperator Lucius Aurelius Verus Augustus.

Lucius Verus

What do we know about Lucius Verus?

Apart from what the Historia Augusta tells us, we know relatively little about Marcus Aurelius’ co-ruler.

Born Lucius Ceionius Commodus (the Younger), he was a member of the Nerva-Antonine dynasty, and his father, Lucius Aelius Caesar was Emperor Hadrian’s fist adopted son and heir. However, Verus’ father died in A.D. 138, and that is when Hadrian decided on Antoninus Pius as his successor.

Lucius Verus and Marcus Aurelius, though friends and ‘brothers’, appear to have been quite different.

Whereas Marcus Aurelius remains the calm stoic, preferring philosophy and a quieter life, Lucius Verus’ interests were said to be lower. He was fanatical about the games and chariot races, as well as gladiatorial combat, and he was said to enjoy lavish parties. He was quite the opposite of Marcus.

Lucius Ceionius Aelius Commodus Verus Antoninus — called Aelius by the wish of Hadrian, Verus and Antoninus because of his relationship to Antoninus — is not to be classed with either the good or the bad emperors. For, in the first place, it is agreed that if he did not bristle with vices, no more did he abound in virtues; and, in the second place, he enjoyed, not unrestricted power, but a sovereignty on like terms and equal dignity with Marcus, from whom he differed, however, as far as morals went, both in the laxity of his principles and the excessive licence of his life.  For in character he was utterly ingenuous and unable to conceal a thing.

(Historia Augusta, The Life of Lucius Verus 1)

Despite their differences, the two emperors seemed to have been able to make things work. It was as if they balanced each other. Marcus Aurelius is said to have disapproved of his co-ruler’s behaviour and vices, but he also saw that Lucius Verus fulfilled his imperial duties. Marcus even went so far as to betroth his eleven year old daughter, Lucilla, to Lucius Verus.

Things were looking bright in Rome. The emperors enjoyed the love of the people, and yet, there was great respect for the Senate and its traditions. Free speech was permitted, and the public service in government was running smoothly.

The Forum Romanum with the temple of Antoninus and Faustina at the back right

The reign of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, however, was not to be the period of Pax Romana that marked the golden age of Antonius Pius.

Sadly, the drums of war began to sound across the Empire.

Two major wars marked the period: the Parthian war (A.D. 161 – 166) in the East, and the Marcomannic Wars (A.D. 166 – 180) in the North.

Because of aggressions shown by Vologasses IV of Parthia, and the subsequent massacre of one legion led by Marcus Severianus, the governor of Cappadocia, it was decided that Rome’s legions needed to march east.

The campaign was led by Lucius Verus, while Marcus Aurelius remained in Rome.

In fact, Verus spent most of his rule in Antioch, overseeing the Parthian campaign which was, in many ways, a success. Order was eventually restored.

It is said that Verus was a responsible commander and that he brought back discipline to the ranks of the Syrian legions who had grown soft during the prior peace. He was a good commander who knew when and how to delegate to men who were more knowledgeable, including his generals Marcus Claudius Fronto, and Martius Verus.

However, his vices followed him there, and in Antioch he is said to have lived a life of extreme luxury with grand parties. And he kept himself updated on the chariot racing in Rome by ordering regular reports sent to him about his favourite teams.

He also spend a great deal of time in the East with his mistress, Panthea, a low-born woman who was said to be a great beauty. Still, despite this, he did travel to Ephesus c. A.D. 163 to marry Marcus Aurelius’ daughter, Lucilla, who was only about fourteen at the time. She became Lucilla Augusta and they had three children together, all of whom died young. After the marriage, Verus returned to Antioch.

Coin depicting Lucilla Augusta, daughter of Marcus Aurelius and wife of Lucius Verus

Lucius Verus certainly preferred bread and circuses to Marcus Aurelius’ love of learning and philosophy, but still, they seem to have worked well together.

When the Parthian campaign was successfully concluded, Lucius Verus was given the title of Parthicus Maximus. He and his men returned to Rome, but they were not only carrying coronae of victory with them. They also brought plague.

We will cover the ‘Antonine Plague’, as it is known, in the next post in this blog series, but suffice it to say, it was devastating.

And as Rome fought the plague at home, the Germanic tribes took the opportunity to attack in the North.

Depiction of the Marcomannic Wars on the Column of Marcus Aurelius

The Marcomannic Wars raged from A.D. 166 – 180 in a series of three major campaigns that took Rome’s legions across the Danube frontier against the rebellious tribes which included the Quadi, Marcomanni, Iazyges, Sarmatians, and the Dacians who had been peaceful for a time during the reign of Antoninus. It was an all-out offensive by the barbarian tribes.

This time, both Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus marched north with the legions to wage a war that would last the rest of their lives.

After two years of campaigning, the two emperors returned to Rome and it was then that Lucius Verus fell ill. Some said that it was food poisoning that killed him, but modern historians believe that it may well have been the plague that had returned with his men from Parthia.

Lucius Verus died and was grieved by Marcus Aurelius who, fittingly, put on games in his honour. He also had his co-emperor deified by the Senate as ‘Divus Verus’.

Marcus Aurelius now ruled alone.

Map of Marcomannic Wars (Wikimedia Commons)

After the death of Verus, Marcus Antoninus held the empire alone, a nobler man by far and more abounding in virtues, especially as he was no longer hampered by Verus’ faults, neither by those of excessive candour and hot-headed plain speaking, from which Verus suffered through natural folly, nor by those others which had particularly irked Marcus Antoninus even from his earliest years, the principles and habits of a depraved mind. Such was Marcus’ own repose of spirit that neither in grief nor in joy did he ever change countenance, being wholly given over to the Stoic philosophy, which he had not only learned from all the best masters, but also acquired for himself from every source.

(Historia Augusta, The Life of Marcus Aurelius 16)

Marcus Aurelius has come down to us as one of the most noble emperors of Rome, the last of the ‘five good emperors’ as they have come to be known.

After the death of his friend and co-emperor, Marcus Aurelius brought the Marcomannic Wars to a successful conclusion. He also improved the judicial system as well as the system for distributing food. The management of the treasury was made more efficient too. He saw to the care of children, and constantly improved the civil service of which he had been a part in his early career. The Senate too, remained respected.

If he made one mistake during his reign, it was perhaps to trust his own son.

After the death of Lucius Verus and a period of lone rule, Marcus Aurelius named his son, Commodus, as co-ruler in A.D. 177. We will not go into the details of Commodus’ rule here. We need only know that it was nothing like his father’s reign, or Antoninus Pius’ before him.

Equestrian statue of Marcus Aurelius in the Capitoline Museum

Being the ruler of the greatest empire in the world could not have been an easy burden, especially for a man like Marcus Aurelius who had duty thrust upon him. This was in contrast to the life of thinking which he obviously preferred. In many ways, perhaps many of us can relate today. How many people live lives they had not intended for themselves?

Marcus Aurelius’ stoic philosophy no doubt helped him to come to terms with what fate had dealt him, but perhaps his insistence to the Senate that Lucius Verus rule with him was his way of alleviating some of the burden he felt?

It is difficult to say, but one thing we can be certain of is that, despite the lack of sources, the reign of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus will always stand out in the history of Rome as a time like no other.

If you have not read our latest historical fantasy novel, The Dragon: Genesis, you can download a free copy on the Eagles and Dragons website by CLICKING HERE.

Be sure to watch for the next post in The World of The Dragon: Genesis, where we will be taking a brief look at the effects of the Antonine Plague.

Thank you for reading.

Facebooktwitterpinterest