CHAPTER 12
COLIN ADAMS
THE military character of the Roman Empire changed dramatically from the Republican period to the early Imperial.1 While the Empire still expanded, especially in the reign of Augustus, this was not at the same level as in the third and second centuries B.C. During the Imperial period the nature of war changed from one of expansion to, gradually, defense of Imperial boundaries (although campaigns were launched: Claudius in Britain, Trajan in Dacia and Parthia, for example). There came a change in the nature of the army: how it functioned within the Empire, its organization, and its relationship with society in Italy and the provinces.
The root of all these changes, of course, was the presence of an emperor. Where the Senate had failed to bind the army to itself in the late Republic, Augustus made no such mistake. Army and emperor were bound each to other (Campbell 1984; Hekster 2007), by an oath of allegiance and by right of command on the one hand, and on the other through pay, donatives, and other privileges. The relationship may not always have been easy—the Emperor Tiberius, an experienced and seasoned general, compared it to “holding a wolf by the ears” (Suet. Tib. 25.1). Emperors went to great lengths to ensure the loyalty of the army. Fundamental to this was pay (Hopkins 1980: 124–5; Campbell 1984: 161–74; Alston 1994; Rathbone 2007: 158–65). The cost of the army was substantial—perhaps as much as 40 percent of Rome’s income from the provinces (although the relative expense would have varied from province to province, and in some, such as Egypt, the relative cost would be low [Adams 2007b])—and a structured approach to military finances (unknown in the Republic) was created with Augustus’s establishing of the aerarium militare in 6 (Dio 55.24–5, Mon. Anc. 17.2). Alongside a substantial grant from his personal funds, for the first time in 150 years, a tax was levied in Italy to help defray costs. There was a regular demand for increases in pay, testament to an almost permanent undercurrent of unrest (James 2001: 79), and so Domitian, Septimius Severus, and Caracalla introduced substantial pay raises. Above and beyond regular pay came irregular donatives, especially important in times of political crisis: Claudius and Marcus Aurelius both granted substantial donatives on their accession.
The monopolization of control of the army in the hands of the emperor radically changed the dynamics of the relationship between the Roman aristocracy and the army, and had a profound effect on military careers in general. These are political considerations, and beyond our remit here, suffice it to say that commands came to be centered in the hands of members of the Imperial household or trusted individuals—no longer would senatorial magistrates have influence. But underneath the highest levels of command, profound changes in structure came, and with it for ordinary soldiers some chance of social mobility. What marked the soldier of the Imperial period from his Republican counterpart was his professional status, and membership of a professional standing army. Soldiers continued to be recruited from low socioeconomic backgrounds, and recruitment in the provinces gathered pace. Military pay was reasonable, and soldiers and veterans were often considered privileged in relation to civilians, but this should not be exaggerated; pay and discharge bonuses may have seemed generous in rural society, but compared with, say, property qualifications for the equestrian class, a soldier’s or veteran’s wealth was modest indeed. They were probably influential at only local levels; they might appear privileged in a small Egyptian village such as Karanis, but they rarely took up local magistracies, as these were expensive (see Alston 1995). As a group, as will become clear, they were seen as abusive and ignorant. The upper classes looked down on them, but could remain relatively untouched by their influence; the lower classes feared abuse.
The bias of the upper classes and fears of the lower are certainly clear in our evidence. Anecdotal derogatory remarks are common in literary evidence of the Empire, but for the Imperial period, unlike the Republic, we have an ever-growing corpus of documentary evidence providing a rich picture of the army and the society with which it interacted. Documents also provide important information about the complex military bureaucracy and systems of supplying the army, along with features of its relations with local populations absent from literary sources. Any treatment of the army and society must take this into account, and, importantly, also consider the wealth of archaeological evidence available (especially perhaps where archaeology and documents can come together).
EFFECTS OF WAR
Rome’s wars of the Imperial period, with the exception of campaigns of expansion under Augustus or Claudius in Britain and those into Dacia and Parthia under Trajan, were different in character from the huge expansion of the third to first centuries B.C. To say that the Empire reached its greatest extent by 117 may disguise complexities, but it is not short of the mark. Wars now, more often, took place within Roman territory, defending it against foreign incursions, rebellions and revolts, and civil war (in 68–9, Morgan 2006), and especially during the turbulent third century (de Blois 2007).
Foreign incursions or attacks on military forces were a serious matter. Augustus may not have mentioned the clades Variana in his Res Gestae, but the silence is telling, and in reality it at least threatened the loss of the German provinces (Cass. Dio 56.23). For perhaps more than a century, the Marcomanni and Quadi tribes posed an enormous threat, not just to the provinces of Pannonia and Noricum, but to Italy itself; in the late second century especially, during the reign of Marcus Aurelius, the threat was real indeed. The problem was that the Roman army was small in comparison to the territory it protected, it was spread thinly, and internal defenses were weak or nonexistent. Once raiding parties had punched a hole into Roman territory, cities and their inhabitants were vulnerable. We have no certain figures for casualties or those taken into captivity, but, for example, incursions into Baetica in Spain in 171 may have seen as many as 150,000 taken into slavery. Archaeological evidence from around the Empire supports the view of a desperate situation.
The effects of civil war and rebellion could be profound, indeed the socioeconomic effects and implications for the societal fabric of communities could be much worse. The ambitions of commanders and undisciplined license of soldiers at times of political and social uncertainty could get out of hand, and Tacitus provides a vivid picture of this during the civil war of 68 to 69, when Otho’s troops treated Italy as though it was enemy territory, and he describes the devastation of Italy during Vitellius’s march on Rome (Hist. 2.56.87–8). Rebellions against Rome could be equally devastating, even if their effects tended to be more localized. As early as the reign of Tiberius in 22, the revolt of Tacfarinas, threatening Africa, lasted for seven years (Tac. Ann. 3.74); and also serious was the revolt of Florus and Sacrovir (Ann. 3.40–46). More so was the revolt of Boudica in Britain in 60, where Tacitus’s figure of seventy thousand civilian dead may not seem exaggerated (Ann. 14.37). The Jewish revolt in the reign of Trajan was much more widespread and demanded the deployment of significant resources (Smallwood 1976). Literary sources, Dio especially, clearly portray the cost: in Hadrian’s reign between 132 and 135 perhaps as many as half a million lost their lives. Arguably more interesting is documentary evidence, for example the archive of Apollonios, the strategos from Egypt, whose mother writes to her son expressing her worry about his fighting against the Jewish rebels (ca. 115–117): “I do not refrain night or day from my prayers to all the gods and goddesses that they might keep you safe” (P. Alex. Giss. 58). The seriousness of the situation is further underlined in this case, for civilians have clearly been drafted to assist soldiers.
Finally, challengers to emperors demanded speedy and revengeful treatment. Especially in the late second and third centuries, these could range to localized affairs, such as the challenge of Avidius Cassius governor of Syria, to highly disruptive and damaging wars of some duration, such as the struggle between Septimius Severus and the pretenders Pescennius Niger and Clodius Albinus (193–197). It was a difficult choice for communities to decide whom they supported, and the wrong choice could be catastrophic: the case of Antioch and Laodicea in Syria is illustrative (Hdn. 3.3.3), and shows how intercity rivalry could further exacerbate problems; traditionally more important, Antioch’s status was reduced to that of a village, while Laodicea’s was increased to colonia(see generally, Potter 2004: 101–10).
But it is all too easy to dwell on the negative. Certainly there were trying times, but these were sporadic both in time and location (even in the third century, when crises were certainly localized and there is good reason to think that there was no universal crisis). There were almost certainly benefits to being part of the Roman Empire. The pax Romana offered opportunities for trade and interaction throughout the Mediterranean and beyond (Woolf 1992, 1993). Aelius Aristides, writing in the second century, praised Roman rule and citizenship as a binding link throughout the Empire. Many other benefits of empire are also listed (Or. 26 On Rome). Huge numbers of citizens and noncitizens benefited from its rule (especially among the elite). However, it is all too easy to be swept along by the rhetoric of Aelius Aristeides and forget the often miserable and horrific circumstances of the initial conquest, and we should be mindful of the famous speech Tacitus attributes to the British chieftain Calgacus in response to Agricola’s attempt to invade Caledonia: “They rob, butcher, plunder and call it ‘empire’; and where they make it a desolation, they call it ‘peace’” (Tac. Agr. 30). But for every Calgacus, there would be many more who embraced Roman control and profited from it.
ARMY AND SOCIETY
By the end of the second century, a professional standing army was permanently based in the provinces of an empire spanning Northern Europe, the Mediterranean, and North Africa, an army made up of some 400,000 troops. Thus the army came to be the most visible feature of Roman control and authority. Whether the force in a province was viewed as a peacekeeping force or an army of occupation varied not only from province to province, but also according to the outlook of particular groups within provinces (Isaac 1992). So the relationship between the army and provinces varied over time and place. However, generally it was at once exploitative but also provided both social and economic opportunities for provincials.
The character of the physical presence of the army in the Roman world varied according to place. In the Imperial period, unlike the Republic, the Praetorian Guard formed a permanent garrison in Italy, with one unit based in the city of Rome itself. This had a profound and widely felt effect, not least at times of political unrest. In the East, units tended to be situated in or near major urban centers. The best evidence for this is from Dura Europus in Syria, occupied from 165 to 256 (Pollard 2000). The presence of the army had a profound influence on the economic and social life of the city. In Egypt, legions were based at Alexandria and Memphis (the former well known for unrest), while garrisons were placed throughout the province at strategic points, and were used to monitor the desert routes. Indeed it was common for soldiers to be disbursed throughout provinces and sometimes beyond, something which is clear from, for example, a duty roster of the very early second century preserved on papyrus (the so-called “Hunt’s Pridianum,” Fink no 63 = Campbell 183) and a wooden tablet from Vindolanda in Britain (= Campbell 182).
What marked the western Roman provinces from those of the east was a much lower level of urbanization. In the east, soldiers enjoyed the benefits of an urban life; in the west, military bases were established at strategic points, which became fixed, and in turn led to the development of civilian communities nearby. Military bases provided traders with opportunities to sell goods, and as bases became more permanent, these communities became more sophisticated, with quasi-municipal structures. These settlements, calledcanabae, were located on the territorium legionis and were made up of Roman citizens. Non-Romans settled in communities around auxilia bases called vici; these tended to be smaller, and although they were ubiquitous, there is no good understanding of their pattern of development. However, it is clear that these settlements were central to the development of the urban landscapes of the Western provinces.
The presence of the army in provinces naturally leads to the question of how integrated soldiers, and in turn veterans, who came to settle in regions in which they had been based, became with the local population. Recent studies have stressed that soldiers became well integrated into provincial life (Alston 1995, 1999: 175–9; Pollard 2000), but at the same time could maintain a separate identity. While archaeological evidence can suggest patterns of habitation, it is to documents that we must turn, in order to provide a picture of the dynamics of the relationship between soldier and civilian. For the Egyptian village of Karanis in the Fayum we have valuable evidence in the form of family archives. We see that soldiers had diverse social connections, and as time went on, especially due to the increase of local recruitment, networks of relationships developed. In this way, for example, soldiers retiring from service could arrange an entrée into the village:
Receive with my recommendation the bearer of this letter, Terentianus, an honourably discharged soldier, and acquaint him with our villagers’ ways, so that he isn’t insulted. Since he is a man of means and wants to live there, I have urged upon him that he rent my house for this year and the next for 60 drachmas, and I would like to use the 120 drachmas to buy for me from our friend the linenmerchant by the temple in the city. (SB VI 9636 [136])
We know from other letters that Terentianus was himself the son of a veteran, that he served in the fleet at Alexandria, and that his introduction into the village must have been smooth, for he eventually bought land there. But while the letter can be taken as evidence of social integration, it also hints at separation and strained relationships. The writer mentions his fellow villagers’ “ways” in such a fashion as to hint at distaste and difference. Such a notion is further illustrated by the examples we have of veterans complaining to officials about their being beaten (SB XII 11, 114), in one example being flogged on the orders of a magistrate (SB V 7523), or their privileges were ignored and they were illegally required to perform liturgies (BGU I 180 = Campbell 339). While it is certain that soldiers and veterans were integrated into society, we should not underestimate levels of tension between them and Egyptians. They represented the power of the state. They were also comparatively wealthy, enjoyed legal privileges and exemptions, and often easier access to officials. A good example of this is the veteran Lucius Bellenus Gemellus, who also lived in the Fayum. Gemellus cultivated good relations with local officials and was not above offering gifts to ensure favorable decisions:
Lucius Bellenus Gemellus to his son Sabinus, greeting and continual good health. You must know that Elouras the royal scribe is become deputy for the strategos Erasus, in accordance with a letter of his highness the prefect. If you think it well, send him an artaba of olives and some fish, as we want to make use of him. (P. Fay. 117 [108])
It is likely that such conspicuous privilege would have rankled other members of the community. Additionally, they may also have remembered the abusive treatment experienced at the hand of soldiers either collecting taxes or otherwise enforcing the will of the state, or malfeasance so commonly associated with soldiers.
Brutish, abusive soldiers are not just a literary topos. Epicetus, in his Discourses, for example, advised his readers not to resist attempts by soldiers to illegally requisition mules, as they would be beaten and the mule taken regardless (Discourses 4.1.79 = Campbell 298). We know from legal sources that edicts and laws were regularly passed to prevent abuse: the lawyer Ulpian, writing on the duties of provincial governors, states that a governor had to see that “nothing is done by individual soldiers exploiting their position and claiming unjust advantages for themselves” (Dig. 1.18.6. 5–7). Ulpian also notes that governors were to make sure that no illegal financial exactions were made (Dig. 1.18.6.1). An edict of M. Petronius Mamertinus, prefect of Egypt from 133 to 137, forbade requisitions without certificates, for “private persons are subjected to arrogance and abuse, and the army has come to be censured for greed and injustice” (PSI V 446 = Campbell 293). Such edicts concerning abuse are common throughout the Empire, but their efficacy can certainly be questioned, and they were probably little comfort to provincials.
Some of our best evidence for relations between soldiers and civilians is the New Testament. John the Baptist advised soldiers (probably those of King Herod) not to “extort money from anyone, do not act as an informer, and be satisfied with your own pay” (Luke 3.14). Elsewhere in the New Testament soldiers who displayed kindness or humanity were praised, because they were exceptions to the rule (Campbell 1984: 248). Just how common extortion and abuse were is evident from some remarkable documents preserved from Egypt. The most striking is a list of disbursements in a private account. We find twenty drachmas for a suckling pig, one hundred drachmas to two police agents, a further one hundred drachmas to another police agent, and finally 2,200 drachmas “for extortion” (SB VI 9207 = Campbell 297).
Compounding the problem of abuse and extortion was the fact that it was difficult for individuals and communities to seek redress. Soldiers enjoyed legal privileges, and were difficult to prosecute (Campbell 1984: 253–4). This was certainly the view of Juvenal, for in a satire he suggests that the outcome of a prosecution of a member of the Praetorian Guard would always end in acquittal (Juv. Sat. 16.32). A further complicating factor is the complicity of local officials in soldiers’ misconduct; their judgments are unlikely to have been impartial (McGing 1998). Further, one category of evidence central to this issue is the large number of petitions directed to officials, where in one sample roughly a third were directed to centurions operating in a local police role (Hobson 1993). The sheer number of petitions suggests that abuse was widespread. A still further complication could be that a centurion was petitioned concerning abuse by a soldier. How likely is fairness in this regard? Such was the case for Aurelius Sarapion in a petition to the centurion Aurelius Marcianus:
there is nothing more dreadful or harder to bear than maltreatment. At the time of life I have reached, being over eighty years, I served faithfully as an Arab archer. A sow having escaped from my daughter in the village and being reported to be at the house of the soldier Julius, I went to him to demand his oath about this matter, and he laying hands on me, despite my age, in the village in the middle of the day, as if there were no laws, laboured me with many blows. (P. Graux 4 [248])
He goes on to list witnesses and to seek redress.
Although there is no reason to doubt that soldiers enjoyed some legal privilege, the picture is not universally bright. Until the time of Septimius Severus, soldiers were unable to enter into a legal marriage (Campbell 1978). It is clear, however, that the change in the law under Severus to allow marriage merely ratified the status quo, for it is clear that soldiers were involved in relationships and that women were present at military bases, even the most far-flung outposts such as Mons Claudianus in the Eastern Desert of Egypt. Other matters such as the restriction on soldiers owning land in the province in which they served being lifted, and the right of the soldier to control his own property (rather than his father), eased restriction for soldiers and had profound effects on status and inheritance. Several other measures were introduced by emperors to ease the legal difficulties for soldiers drawing up wills, and they enjoyed other privileges such as inalienabilty of their property during their years of service and exemptions from compulsory public services (which applied also to veterans in the first five years of their retirement). Thus reasonable pay, regular donatives, and legal privileges and perks formed a package intended to make military service attractive. In terms of the auxiliary forces, perhaps the most attractive aspect of service was the award of Roman citizenship at the end. This, then, had a profound effect on the social mobility of recruits and on their cultural identity. The orator Aelius Aristeides put it thus: “on the day they joined the army, they lost their original city, but from the very same day became fellow-citizens of your city [Rome] and its defenders” (Aristid. Or. 26.75).
So all of this, more than average wealth, donatives, citizenship of legionaries and citizenship upon discharge for auxiliaries, and, with this, exemption from poll tax and exemptions from liturgies for five years, legal privileges, and the ear of officials all of the way, theoretically, to the emperor, served to make soldiers the focus of jealousy.
THE ROLE OF THE ARMY IN THE PROVINCES
The main role of any army is to fight wars, certainly in a militaristic society such as Rome. In reality, as mentioned above, wars were limited in time and place, and they rarely would have affected daily life in most of Rome’s provinces, and certainly this was the case in the longer established ones under the authority of proconsuls, where there was a limited military presence. The maintenance of law and order within provinces was more important, and the central responsibility for provincial governors (Ulp. Dig. 1.18.13). Guard duty and surveillance took up most of soldiers’ time; Pseudo-Hyginus, writing in the first or second century, stated that, at any time, about 20 percent of a legion might be involved in such duties (Ps. Hyginus, De munitionibus castrorum 1), and this tallies with duty rosters preserved from Dura-Europus and Egypt (Fink 1971: 12–19, 51). Banditry was a serious problem, perhaps especially in more remote regions (MacMullen 1966; Shaw 1984; McGing 1998), and this is amply shown by a recently published ostraconfrom the presidium of Krokodilo in the Eastern Desert of Egypt (esp. O. Krok. 87). It preserved reports dating from March and April 118 detailing violent encounters with Bedouin tribesmen. On the night of March 13, there was an attack on the nearby presidium of Patkoua involving sixty “barbaroi” which lasted the whole night; two soldiers were killed (and at least one seriously wounded), a child was killed, and a woman and child abducted.
A series of ostraca from the Eastern Desert provide good evidence for the daily routine of soldiers. They contain lists of individuals on watchtower duty, providing protection from the kind of incursion just mentioned; for it was not only the presidia and watering stations (hydreumata) which demanded protection, but the caravans of luxury goods of the Red Sea trade which also utilized this desert infrastructure (Bagnall 1977, 1982; Alston 1995; Adams 1999, 2007a). Travel on these desert routes was therefore carefully regulated (see O. Claud. I 48–82 for passes), charges for their use were levied (OGIS 671 [A.D. 90]), and communication was at a premium, demonstrated clearly by accounts of letter deliveries preserved from Krokodilo (esp. O. Krok. 1). As time went on, and legions became more permanently based in particular provinces, soldiers could find themselves at such outposts for a considerable period of time. A good example is the case of Aelius Dubitatus, a soldier of the Ninth Praetorian cohort based in Numidia in North Africa in the third century, who served as a guard at the outpost of Veneria Rustica for nine years (ILS 9073 = Campbell 187). Clearly some posts were better than others. This also goes some way to explaining why women and children were at the presidium of Krokodilo, and why we find women being charged high toll fees for using the Eastern Desert roads. The Koptos Tariff inscription (OGIS 671) records charges of twenty drachmas for a woman (four times that for a sailor) and 108 drachmas for a prostitute. The loneliness of the desert clearly created good business, and the state taxed accordingly.
More senior soldiers, centurions, and decurions were dispatched to investigate crimes in Roman Egypt, and were the main feature of maintaining law and order in the province—and there was much to do (Bagnall 1977; Alston 1995: 86–96). A good example is the case of Patermuthis, son of Heracleus, who was involved in a dispute with shepherds. When he complained “about the damages they owed to me because of their flocks grazing over my lands, they gave me a severe beating and abusively stated they would not pay.” He applied to the centurion Gaius Trebius Justus for redress (P. Oxy. XIX 2234 = Campbell 286 [31]). This was common in other provinces too, where beneficiarii or stationarii took on a similar role, especially in areas less easily controlled by magistrates. Soldiers, too, could be called on by magistrates to enforce their decisions or to act as arbiters in disputes. A good example of this regards a dispute between two villages in Asia over their respective responsibilities to provide for transport for officials on state business using local roads traversing an imperial estate. The procurator responsible for the estate sent a soldier on police duty to the village of Anossa (Campbell 188). Another example is from Dalmatia in the reign of Gaius: “Lucius Arruntius Scribonianus, legate with pro-praetorian power of Gaius Caesar Augustus Germanicus, appointed Marcus Coelius, centurion of the seventh legion, as adjudicator between the Sapuates and the [La]matini, in order to establish boundaries and set up markers” (ILS5950 = Campbell 285). It seems that in some instances the presence of a soldier could be welcome. However, there was a clear opportunity for abuse: soldiers being used by corrupt officials to enforce their will, as in the case of Lucilius Capito, a crooked procurator in Asia during the reign of Tiberius who was “impeached by his province, was tried by them, the emperor vehemently asserting ‘that he had merely given the man authority over the slaves and property of the imperial establishments; that if he had taken upon himself the powers of a prætor and used military force, he had disregarded his instructions; therefore they must hear the provincials.’ So the case was heard and the accused condemned” (Tac. Ann. 4.15).
Soldiers were also engaged in a range of activities in support of local administrative officials, especially given that one of the main features of Roman provincial government was the absence of a large provincial bureaucracy (even if this did not necessarily mean a reduction in the amount of paperwork generated). The administration of justice in local disputes is the obvious function, and thus communities were encouraged to foster good relations with individual soldiers to ensure support. Often they came to be local benefactors given the honor of votive inscriptions as “friend and benefactor,” and communities celebrated sons who became soldiers, perhaps because of their influence. A third-century inscription from Sebaste in Asia is a good example: “In accordance with the decisions of the council and the people, his native country (honors) its benefactor Aurelius Atticus, veteran of Legion X Gemina, like his ancestors an ex-magistrate and city councilor” (Campbell 34).
More typically, however, soldiers were given jobs requiring force, or its implication. We have evidence, principally from the Roman East, of soldiers supervising local markets, where we can imagine them suppressing heated arguments over prices; they were especially responsible for the oversight of the weighing of goods (e.g., CIL VIII 18,219 = ILS 2415). They also supervised the weighing of tax grain and acted as guards on ships (epilooi or “supercargoes,” Alston 1995: 79–81; Adams 2007a: 192). We know from a letter of Pliny the Younger, when governor of Bithynia-Pontus, that soldiers were attached to the staff of a freedman in the office of an imperial procurator, and this compares favorably with the evidence cited above for soldiers being sent to settle a dispute in Annossa by a procurator (Pliny, Ep. 10.27; Pollard 2000: 100–4). Some soldiers had particular administrative skills which encouraged their deployment in this way. A good example of this is found in a letter, again from Karanis in Egypt, but written in Bostra in Arabia, of a soldier to his father: “I have asked Claudius Severus, the governor, to appoint me as a clerk on his staff, and he said: ‘There is no vacancy; nevertheless, in the meantime I shall appoint you as a clerk of the legion with expectation of advancement’” (P. Mich. VII 466 = Campbell 36).
Perhaps the most visible and important role of soldiers’ internal administrative duties was in the collection of taxes (Alston 1995: 79–80; Pollard 2000: “tax collection”). It is here that their ubiquitous brutality was most evident. Soldiers, as we saw in the personal account mentioned above, could extort money directly from civilians, but were also often complicit in fraudulent activities of tax collectors, who sought to profit from tax-farming contracts by collecting more than they required to fulfill them. We know from a first-century archive from the village of Philadelphia in the Fayum, belonging to the tax collector Nemesion, that soldiers and other bodyguards were used to assist collection (Hanson 1989: 435–6). From internal evidence in the archive, we know that Nemesion was struggling to collect his taxes during a time of economic hardship, so soldiers provided a necessary lever, and perhaps also protection for Nemesion.
Soldiers also manned customhouses throughout the empire. A merchant’s handbook of the mid-first century mentions the probable presence of a centurion at the port of Leuke Kome on the Red Sea, supervising the collection of the 25 percent portorium tax on luxury goods (Periplus Maris Erythraei 19, with Young 1997). We know also that soldiers were based at customhouses in Dura-Europus, and indeed it is no surprise that they were stationed at these points, not only because of the importance and value of tax collection, but also because they were often located at strategically important locations.
Soldiers provided much more than military might within the Empire. They were certainly responsible for the creation of new provinces through force, but their role did not end there, or even merely with keeping peace. They also contributed to the establishment and maintenance of provincial infrastructures in the form of roads, fortresses, and other buildings and structures. In many provinces outside the East, these may not have existed before. So soldiers were also responsible for the development of the fabric of provinces and means of government, for empire was not possible without efficient communication. A good example is an inscription preserved on a milestone from near Thoana in Arabia, dating to 110/11: “when Arabia had been reduced to the position of a province, opened up a new road from the borders of Syria right up to the Red Sea, and paved it, through the work of Caius Claudius Severus, legate of the emperor with propraetorian power. 54 miles” (ILS 5834 = Campbell 198).
The army needed roads and buildings for its own use, but in turn soldiers could use their skills as engineers and builders to other ends. We are told by Suetonius, for example, that Augustus used soldiers to repair the canal and irrigation networks in the Egyptian Fayum, which had fallen into disrepair under the later Ptolemies (Suet. Aug. 28; cf. SHA, Prob. 9 for the third century). We know from the Digest that provincial governors had the responsibility for the upkeep of public buildings in their provinces, and were sanctioned to appoint soldiers to assist in the inspection of buildings (Dig. Ulpian 1.16.7.1 = Campbell 193). This is clear too from the letters of Pliny the Younger as governor of Bithynia-Pontus, where we are told that city finances and their relationship to public building were some of his central concerns, that he requested specialist military surveyors and architects to supervise building and roads in his province (Pliny, Ep. 10.41, with Talbert 1980).
Of course soldiers engaged in the building of their own camps, which over time in the western provinces developed into extended communities and cities. In Britain, legions were based at Caerleon, Chester, and York, and throughout the western provinces, in Cologne, Bonn, Mainz, Vienna, Budapest, and Belgrade, to select only a few. Soldiers in the eastern provinces we have seen were based in cities, and here they were often engaged in the repair of city walls (Pollard 2000: 244–5), and soldiers with specific skills, such as stonemasons, could employ them in the building of bridges (AE 1973: 473 = Campbell 200).
Soldiers could also use these skills in mining, and given that all mines and quarries were part of the emperor’s property after the reign of Tiberius (Suet. Tib. 49.2). The work was arduous, as is shown by the account of Tacitus of a mine in Germany:
The output from this mine was small and did not last for long. But the legionaries endured much costly toil as they dug channels and laboured underground in a way which would have been onerous even if they had been out in the open. Exhausted by this, and because troops in several provinces were undergoing similar toils, the soldiers wrote secretly to beg the emperor that when he was about to appoint a commander, he should grant him an honorary triumph before he took up his command. (Tac. Ann. 11.20 = Campbell 194)
The lot of soldiers working in mines and quarries was probably better than that of their civilian counterparts (even though they were still well paid [Cuvigny 1996]), and for officers, as we know from a letter from Karanis, written by a soldier based in Bostra in Arabia: “I give thanks to Sarapis and Good Fortune that while all are laboring the whole day through at cutting stones, I as an officer move about doing nothing” (P. Mich. VIII 465 [107]).
All of these issues are central to the role of the army in the construction and maintenance of provincial infrastructure. But this was largely in the interests of the state, even if there were incidental benefits for provincials. However, it is fair to say that this reinvestment by the state in such infrastructure could not make up for the systematic exploitation of provinces by Rome.
The presence of soldiers in provinces had profound economic effects, both direct and indirect. The army itself had direct demands in terms of food supply, equipment, and weapons, and their transport and delivery, but also indirectly in that the presence of soldiers naturally provided trading opportunities for provincial inhabitants, whether riding on the back of supply or independently.
The army was not self-sufficient, and the professional army of the Empire, as it became more permanently based, could not rely on foraging and other temporary measures as the army of the Republic had done; such techniques were, at any rate, not suitable for peacetime (on logistics generally, see Erdkamp 1998 and Roth 1999). Land was attached to legionary bases, and on this small amounts of food could be grown, but certainly not enough to provide for all. At outposts, small-time gardening by individual soldiers provided extra food, and perhaps for some helped to relieve boredom. A good example is the soldier Rustius Barbarus, assigned to a desert post in Egypt, who grew vegetables (Davies 1971); similar activities are seen at Mons Claudianus (van der Veen 1998a, 1998b) and, on the other side of the Empire, at Vindolanda (Bowman 1994: 44–5). But this was a drop in the ocean, for an army of some 300,000 legionaries and auxiliaries demanded some 150,000 tons of grain per annum (Garnsey and Saller 1987: 89–95; Campbell 2002: 92). The burden on provinces varied according to relative productivity; the burden in Egypt for example (about the only province with which it is possible to make such estimates) was small: some 192,000 artabas of grain needed compared to an annual yield of 81 million (Adams 2007b).
Supply on such a scale naturally demanded considerable logistical enterprise. Despite this no universal system of supply was ever developed, rather methods varied throughout time and place, but two important constants can be determined: first, that overall supervision of supply was a responsibility of provincial governors; second, increasingly the burden of not only producing supplies (in the form of tax grain for example), but of transporting them, fell more and more on provincial populations. Our evidence is rather limited—technical treatises such as Vegetius’s Epitome of Military Science are of little use—but supply demanded accurate record keeping (the presence of which in itself distinguishes the Imperial army from the Republican). In this respect we are lucky to have good evidence from Egypt, Dura-Europus, and Vindolanda, and the geographical spread suggests similarities in documentary practice.
Although there seems to have been no universal system of supply, the following basic format can be determined: legionary commanders assessed the requirements of their legions and units within them (that may have been based away from the mother legion); the provincial governor was informed and sanctioned their collection (Adams 1999). Once approval had been given, soldiers were sent out to collect supplies. Our best evidence of this process is from the dossier of the strategos Damarion, where a soldier named Antonius Justinus spent a considerable period of time in the Fayum gathering supplies (Daris 1992; Adams 1999; the central text is P. Amh. II 107 = Campbell 235 [A.D. 185]). We also possess a document showing men from the Cohors I Hispanorum Veterana in Moesia sent to Gaul to collect clothing and grain (Fink 63 = Campbell 183 [105 or 106]).
A final example from Egypt concerns a soldier (who calls himself a procurator—an unmilitary title) who had paid hay contractors (conductores faenarii) who were probably civilians for the transport of fodder to his unit (P. Lond. I 482 = Campbell 236 [130]). The transport of the supplies seems in the main to have been carried out by civilians. This is certainly implied in the case of P. Lond. I 482 just cited, but is clear in the case of remote outposts in Egypt and Libya (see the ostraca from Douch; O. Petr. 245, with Adams 1995, 2007a: 210–19; and ostraca from Bu Njem, Maricha 1992). Such transport was carried out over short and long distances under contract, but over time this may have gradually turned into liturgical service (Adams 1999: 123–4). It could be onerous, as we see in an example where a veteran performing a liturgy has delivered blankets to the praefectus castrorum of Legio II Traiana Fortis, but has been detained in Alexandria so long that he had to petition the Prefect of Egypt for his release from duties (P. Oxy. XXXVI 2760 [179–80]). Thus it was not just food supplies that were levied, but also blankets and clothing, fodder for animals, and even materials for weapons.
The development of communities around military bases was largely because soldiers provided a focus of trade. The production of both staple goods and other commodities would have been encouraged, to say nothing of opportunities for entertainment. In Britain, for example, the Vindolanda writing tablets show a “flexible and sophisticated local economy” (Bowman 1994: 68; Whittaker 2002). Paul Middleton has noted that in Gaul the army’s presence afforded “networks of contact that resulted in the interplay of Roman and native groups” (Middleton 1983: 75); this is both societal and economic interplay. We also have evidence for longer distance trade. At Vindolanda, Gallic wine was favored over local drink, perhaps not surprisingly, and it is possible that an individual on one tablet, who described himself as a hominem trasmarinum (“a man from across the sea”), was a dealer in wine (Tab. Vindol. II 344). Amphorae at Mons Claudianus show a remarkable range of wines from around the Mediterranean—Spanish, Gallic, Syrian—being transported to this remote site (Tomber 1996). It seems clear that the presence of soldiers in a province could have a profound effect upon patterns of trade and the wider economy.
CONCLUSION
War created the Roman Empire, and Roman society was profoundly militaristic. Within the provinces soldiers were the most visible sign of Roman control. They protected Roman territory from attack, which came to be the most important overtly military function as expansion slowed down. The army provided internal policing, which was not universally popular; to some it was a peacekeeping force, to others an army of occupation. Soldiers were at once thought of as brutish thugs, largely untouchable due to their status, but they also provided, at times, welcome protection. As military units came to be more permanently based in particular areas, communities developed around them—those units based in cities of the East enjoyed the benefits of city life and their links with civilian society grew. This resulted in integration, which was not always an easy situation. Integration had dividends for both soldiers and civilians. These communities provided new recruits for the army, and the presence of the army, even if it did place many burdens on local populations, who had to provide food and supplies as tax, also provided a range of economic and social opportunities: trade and the possibility for some of the grant of Roman citizenship after service in the auxiliaries. Roman soldiers thus were at the center of both the physical and societal fabric of the provinces of the Empire.
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