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.

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The World of Isle of the Blessed – Part V – The Death of an Emperor

We are past the midway point in this blog series on The World of Isle of the Blessed in which I share the research that went into the creation of the latest Eagles and Dragons release.

I hope you’ve enjoyed it so far!

Last week in Part IV, we looked at the imperial court of Severus and the main players who would have been present in Eburacum during the Caledonian campaign. If you missed it, you can check it out HERE.

In Part V, we’re going to be taking a brief look at one of the pivotal moments in Rome’s history: the death of Emperor Septimius Severus.

Septimius Severus

Severus, seeing that his sons were changing their mode of life and that the legions were becoming enervated by idleness, made a campaign against Britain [Caledonia], though he knew that he should not return…

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

In Warriors of Epona (Eagles and Dragons, Book III), Septimius Severus and his sons, Caracalla and Geta, arrive in Britannia for the invasion of Caledonia, and the sources tell us that this was partially to occupy the two sons who were running rampant in Rome after the execution of the Praetorian Prefect, Gaius Fulvius Plautianus. You can read more about the invasion of Caledonia HERE.

However, Severus had been ill for many years, mainly from gout, and perhaps arthritis. But he was a tough specimen, a man who had come out the victor in the previous civil war against Pescennius Niger and Clodius Albinus, and then as emperor had been victorious against the Parthian Empire. After the civil war, Severus brought a period of strength and stability to the Empire that saw its borders at their greatest extent and his power almost absolute, due to the strength and loyalty of the army.

Severus constantly looked to the stars…

One interesting fact about Septimius Severus and his supremely intelligent empress, Julia Domna, was that they were great believers in astrology and the messages the gods inscribed on the stars regarding their fates. Their astrologer was consulted in all things and went wherever they went.

It is for this reason, it is believed, that when the emperor set out for Caledonia, he knew that he would not see Rome or Leptis Magna, his north African home, again.

He knew this chiefly from the stars under which he had been born, for he had caused them to be painted on the ceilings of the rooms in the place where he was won’t to hold court, so that they were visible to all… He knew his fate also by what he had heard from the seers; for a thunderbolt had struck a statue of his which stood near the gates through which he was intending to march out and looked toward the road leading to his destination, and it had erased three letters from his name. For this reason, as the seers made clear, he did not return, but died in the third year. He took along with him an immense amount of money.

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

The Caledonian campaign began in A.D. 208. About three years later, Emperor Septimius Severus did indeed die at Eburacum (modern York) on February 4th, A.D. 211.

It seems the seers and astrologers had been correct.

Roman York around A.D. 210. Construction of the interval tower by Tracey Croft. (Historic England)

During the Caledonian campaign, Eburacum had been the administrative capital for the imperial court. Severus’ son, Geta took care of administration, while Caracalla and his father carried on with military actions against the Caledonians and Maeatae in the North.

However, due to Severus’ ill health, he was forced to return to Eburacum to await the arrival of those stars under which he knew he was to expire.

Herodian, the other historian for the period, gives us his account:

Now a more serious illness attacked the aged emperor and forced him to remain in his quarters; he undertook, however, to send his son out to direct the campaign. Caracalla, however, paid little attention to the war, but rather attempted to gain control of the army. Trying to persuade the soldiers to look to him alone for orders, he courted sole rule in every possible way, including slanderous attacks upon his brother. Considering his father, who had been ill for a long time and slow to die, a burdensome nuisance, he tried to persuade the physicians to harm the old man in their treatments so that he could be rid of him more quickly. After a short time, however, Severus died, succumbing chiefly to grief, after having achieved greater glory in military affairs than any of the emperors who had preceded him. No emperor before Severus had won such outstanding victories either in civil wars against political rivals or in foreign wars against barbarians. Thus Severus died after ruling for eighteen years, and was succeeded by his young sons, to whom he left an invincible army and more money than any emperor had ever left his successors.

(Herodian, History of the Empire, XV 1)

Imperial Family – The Severans

The death of Septimius Severus is a crucial moment in Isle of the Blessed, and indeed in the entire Eagles and Dragons series.

I have been writing about this fascinating emperor for a long time, since Parthia, and then, as the stars loomed above him, as his day of death appeared on the horizon, it was time to explore his thinking toward the end.

How difficult it must have been for such a strong individual to face his end? After winning, creating, and ruling a vast, thriving empire, how could he deal with saying goodbye to it all?

It was a privilege to write about it in Isle of the Blessed.

The research into Severus’ death was also fascinating. Cassius Dio gives some details:

…his body, arrayed in military garb, was placed upon a pyre, and as a mark of honour the soldiers and his sons ran about it; and as for the soldiers’ gifts, those who had things at hand to offer as gifts threw them upon it, and his sons applied the fire. Afterwards his bones were put in an urn of purple stone, carried to Rome, and deposited in the tomb of the Antonines. It is said that Severus sent for the urn shortly before his death, and after feeling of it, remarked: “Thou shalt hold a man that the world could not hold.”

(Cassius Dio, The Roman History, 15, 2)

One can imagine Severus, staring at the stars he had had painted everywhere, and at the stone urn that would hold his remains, but my research into the death of this great emperor of Rome led me to something even more fascinating.

The funeral pyre of Septimius Severus was said to have been the largest pyre ever to be seen in Britannia.

But what did such a thing look like? Where in Eburacum could it have been located?

Numismatology, the study of coinage, has been extremely useful to me in my research into the Severans over the course of this series of novels, and once again, it proved extremely useful.

When looking for any information I could find on the death of Severus, I came across an image of a coin minted by Caracalla after the death of his father. It was perfect, for this coin depicted exactly what I was looking for…

Silver denarius showing the funeral pyre of Septimius Severus

On this coin is depicted the funeral pyre of Septimius Severus himself. It provided me with the information I needed to accurately describe this event.

Serendipity does indeed happen in research too!

The other question was the location of the pyre. Where could it have been located? Of course, the pyre would have had to be outside the city walls of Eburacum. But the ustrinum, the burning place, for such a large pyre would have to be far removed from the city.

Here too, the stars aligned for my research.

In modern York (ancient Eburacum) there is a place called ‘Severus Hill’ which is a large hill (now topped by a water tower) in an otherwise flat landscape that some historians believe was created by glacial shiftings millions of years ago.

However, I discovered that there is another theory about Severus Hill that the feature was not created by glaciers, but rather that it is the overgrown remains of Septimius Severus’ giant funeral pyre.

Severus Hill, and its water tower. (photo: yorkpress.co.uk)

I thought about this, about the distance from the ancient city walls (about 2 miles) and the toponymics of the place (place name). Whether the theory is absolutely true or not, it fit well with the story I was trying to tell.

It is wonderful when a plan, erm…plot, comes together!

Thus, my time with Septimius Severus, one of Rome’s great emperors, has come to an end. I will miss him.

He was not perfect, to be sure, but his life and actions have been fascinating to explore. He had great successes, but he also had failures, and perhaps his greatest failure was to entrust the empire he had built to his two sons, Caracalla and Geta.

Severus had, at one point, criticized Marcus Aurelius for making Commodus his heir, but he in turn had made the same mistake.

And the Empire would pay for it.

Still, Septimius Severus was an emperor until the very end, when his stars flickered and faded. His final words, as Cassius Dio tells us, were: “Come, give it here, if we have anything to do.”

I hope you have enjoyed this part in The World of Isle of the Blessed. There is more to come!

Tune in next week for Part VI when we will be looking at a particular archaeological discovery that sheds a gruesome light on the immediate aftermath of Severus’ death.

Thank you for reading.

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Roman Ghosts: Shades in Eburacum

Greetings history lovers!

Welcome to the first post in what we hope will be an ongoing blog series called Roman Ghosts.

We all love a good ghost story, and as everyone reading this presumably loves ancient history, we thought it would be fun to combine the two.

In this series (which will be posted sporadically as we discover more Roman ghost stories) we will not be setting out to prove or disprove anything. We’re not scientists, myth busters, or ghost hunters.

With the Roman Ghosts series, we’re interested in the stories and sightings themselves. At the end of this inaugural post, you’ll see how you can help and be a part of this.

Artist impression of Eburacum, Roman York

The first Roman ghost story we’re going to look at is one that you may be familiar with.

In the province of Britannia, one of the principal legionary bases was that of Eburacum (also ‘Eboracum’), or modern York.

York is a beautiful city today with some amazing medieval remains, York Minster, the Shambles, the Yorvik Viking Centre and more. I’ve been to York several times and enjoyed myself immensely each time.

The Roman ruins of York are less visible than the grand medieval remnants such as the walls and Petergate, but they are there.

In fact, the oldest part of York today was built pretty much on top of the original legionary base.

Ordnance Survey Map – Roman York

Today’s High Petergate runs from the northwest to southwest along the line of the orginal Via Principalis of the legionary base, and York Minster was built on top of the Principia, the headquarters building of the legion. Among the more visible Roman ruins is the multi-angular tower located to the southwest of Petergate itself.

If you know where to look in York, there are indeed Roman remains to be seen, including beneath York Minster, and, one of my favourite places, beneath the Roman Bath pub where you can visit the remains of the fortress’ baths after a pint and a good meal.

Remains of the Roman baths of Eburacum, on display beneath the Roman Bath pub

York, or Eburacum, was famous for its connections with a couple emperors, including Constantine the Great, whose statue sits outside the minster, and before him our own Septimius Severus. In fact, I’ve set part of Warriors of Epona, and the upcoming Isle of the Blessed in Eburacum during Severus’ time there.

Roman (with medieval additions) multi-angular tower in Eburacum

But we’re here to talk about ghosts, aren’t we?

On my first visit to York I took a walking tour. Our guide told us many things, but what stuck with me the most from that tour was the tale of a young plumber who, in 1953, says he saw Roman soldiers come out of a wall where he was working in the cellar of the Treasurer’s House.

There are many theories about places holding memory, and about how the spirits of the departed may linger in a place where they spent time.

Eburacum was home to two British legions for over 300 years! First, it was garrisoned by the IXth Hispana Legion from about A.D. 71-121. This is the famous ninth legion that some believe went missing after a campaign in Caledonia, and which was made famous in the novel The Eagle of the Ninth by Rosemary Sutcliff. After that legion vanished (or was assigned to another part of the Empire), Eburacum was garrisoned by the VI Victrix Legion which remained there for close to three hundred years and may have been the last legion to leave Britannia when Rome pulled out.

Needless to say, a few generations of Romans called Eburacum ‘home’.

The Treasurer’s House, York (picture: The National Trust)

The Treasurer’s House is located just to the north of the minster, near the Roman Via Decumana of the old legionary base. This is where, in 1953, eighteen-year-old Harry Martindale, an apprentice plumber, first saw a troop of about twenty ghostly Roman soldiers.

According to Martindale, he was working alone in the cellar of the Treasurer’s House, the lowest point of which was the original Roman road, possibly the Via Decumana itself.

While he was on a ladder, he heard an odd sound, as if some sort of music was playing, a horn of some sort, perhaps a cornu. He looked down from his ladder and there saw the top of a helmet come out of the solid wall he was working at.

He stumbled down and fell into a corner to watch in terror as several legionaries, as well as a mounted cavalryman, marched out of the wall, along the road, and then disappeared into an opposite wall!

The wall in the cellar of the Treasurer’s House where Martindale saw the Roman ghosts come out.

The strange, and terrifying thing is that Martindale did not say they were cloudy apparitions such as we might expect ghosts to be. Rather, as he sat on the floor watching them, he noticed that they looked as real as you or I. He could see the details of their armour, weapons, clothing, and even the stubble upon their faces!

He also noticed that when they came out of the wall, they were only visible from the knees up, that is, until they stepped onto the Roman road itself and their feet finally became visible.

Now, if that doesn’t send a chill down your spine, I don’t know what will!

Harry Martindale in an interview years later in front of the wall where he saw the ghostly Romans

Harry described all he had seen to historians and they confirmed that the details he described, of the armour and weapons etc. were genuine and accurate, and may have been Roman auxiliary troops. It has also been hypothesized that, because of the date of that particular road level and the details Harry described, the ghostly troopers may well have been part of the IXth Hispana Legion which had gone missing.

Who knows. If the shades of these legionaries experienced a traumatic slaughter in the highlands of Caledonia, then perhaps their ghosts eventually returned to Eburacum where they still march along the roads today?

Petergate in York, built on the Roman Via Principalis

Harry Martindale was not the only one to have seen the shades of these Roman soldiers over the years. Before him, the old caretaker had seen them, but said nothing for fear of being ridiculed. A later caretaker also saw them after Harry’s experience.

My guide in York claimed that other Roman legionary ghosts had been spotted marching down the streets of York at night too, and it’s not hard to imagine when you walk around that ancient city. It seems made for ghosts!

I don’t know if the latter is true, or if Martindale’s story is legitimate. It does seem odd though that a young working boy could have such a detailed knowledge of Roman legionary or auxiliary kit, doesn’t it?

Either way, it’s a fantastic Roman ghost story!

Roman soldiers – a legionary and an auxiliary cavalryman (illustration by Angus McBride)

Earlier, I mentioned that there was a way in which you can be a part of the Roman Ghosts blog series…

If you know of any other Roman ghost stories in any country across what was the Roman Empire, then please do let us know about it and, if possible, send us a link to sources or articles that refer to that particular ghost story or sighting.

If you have any stories to share with us that you would like us to look at, just reply to this e-mail or go to the Contact Us page on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing website.

Anyone who makes us aware of a Roman ghost story that we write up will get a mention in the blog itself.

For now, we hope you’ve enjoyed this first post in the Roman Ghosts series.

Thank you for reading.

To watch an interview with Harry Martindale about his experience, check out the first half of the video below:

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