The Legacy of Rome: How the Roman Empire Shaped the Modern World

INTRODUCTION

Today, going about our daily lives, we are surrounded by real-life legacies of the Roman Republic and Empire, some obvious but most not. In that sense, the world of Julius Caesar, Augustus, Claudius, Diocletian, Constantine I and Justinian I is still with us, extant and engaging. Drawing on specific examples, I aim to show how we still walk step by step with our Roman forebears, the threads of their lives reaching out to us down the years to guide our present.

This is a book about big ideas rather than the usual chronological history. The chapters reflect the breadth of the Republic and the empire’s vast geography, from the far north of Scotland to the Middle East and beyond. The greater part of the book comprises a grand tour of the world of Rome, reviewing each geographic region in turn to show how the experience of being part of the Roman world still dramatically influences the lives of those living there today. I start with far-flung Britannia, the wild west of the Roman world at the best of times. Its never-conquered far north meant this troublesome province required an exceptionally large military presence, while the lengthy campaigns of conquest in the south set in place much of today’s urban landscape and transport network. Meanwhile, how Britain left the Roman Empire in its first ‘Brexit’ at the beginning of the fifth century AD – in a manner very different to the same experience elsewhere in the western empire – helped shape Britain’s differential relationship with its continental neighbours to this day.

Next, I visit the imperial heartlands in the far west of Germany, Gaul, Spain and Italy, where the key pillars of modern society and culture are the direct descendants of their Roman counterparts. The legacy of Rome is often at its most overt here: think of Italian, Spanish, Catalan, Portuguese and French, all of which derive from Vulgar Latin and are classified today as Romance languages, as well as Roman law codes and the influence of the Catholic Church. Afterwards, I travel to the north-east of the empire, with the Danube frontier, the Balkans and Anatolia, using a single modern country in the region to show how its Roman heritage is still visible in many walks of life today. My example is Romania, much of which formed the short-lived Roman province of Dacia. Then I consider the history of the great metropolis Istanbul as my example of an urban setting where its Roman origins are still very important. I examine how the later division of the empire into two halves created a schism that still has major implications for the region, with the fault line running through the Balkans.

Moving on, I visit the eastern frontier, where Rome faced off for centuries against the Parthians, and later the Sassanid Persians. There the changing fortunes of the various peoples of the region are again directly linked to the world of Rome. Think of the role Iran’s Persian heritage plays today in its engagement with the western world, and how Rome’s savage suppression of three Jewish Revolts has links with the twentieth-century creation of the modern state of Israel. All are examined in detail in Chapter 4.

Finally, I examine North Africa, super rich powerhouse of the empire where the Roman limes (as the Romans called their fortified frontiers) are still visible in many places on the northern fringes of the Sahara. Having recently travelled extensively in Roman Algeria, I have a real sense of how intensely ‘Roman’ this region was, whether standing in lovely Djémila in the Atlas Mountains or Timgad beneath copper blue skies as I looked south to the soft purple Aures Mountains and the Sahara beyond. In North Africa I use another example of the Roman-built environment, the fabulous ancient city of Leptis Magna in modern Libya, to illustrate how many Roman building techniques are still in use today. I finish this chapter considering the seventh-century AD Arab conquests in the region, to show how their incredible success was facilitated by the pre-existing system of Roman administration, ensuring that this formerly wealthy part of the Roman Empire is now (and has long been) a thriving part of the Islamic world.

In the conclusion I review other, more diverse examples of Rome’s legacy in today’s world, before completing the book with three appendices covering key military campaigns in more depth than was possible in the main text, and finally adding a timeline of key dates in the Roman Republic and Empire for the reader’s reference.

Permanent fortifications are a key feature of this book regarding the legacy of Rome, especially given many modern towns and cities started as such. To describe them I have used the size-based hierarchy now utilised by those studying the armed forces of Rome:

–Fortress , a permanent base for one or more legions. Some were 20ha or more in size, a significant engineering undertaking for the legionaries and other military units of Rome

–Vexillation fortress , a large fort of between 8 and 12ha. Such fortifications held a mixed force of legionary cohorts and auxiliaries

–Fort , a garrison outpost occupied by an auxiliary unit or units. These were between 1 and 6ha in size

–Fortlet , a small garrison outpost large enough to hold only part of an auxiliary unit

In terms of the Roman-built environment, settlement features heavily in the story of the legacy of Rome in the modern world. Here, larger Roman towns are referenced as one of three types. These are: coloniae, chartered towns for military veterans; municipia, chartered towns of mercantile origin; and civitas capitals, the Roman equivalent of a British county town featuring the local government of a region. Settlement below this level is referenced as either a small town (defined as a variety of diverse settlements which often had an association with a specific activity such as administration, industry or religion), villa estates or non-villa estates.

An understanding of Roman social order is equally important. At the very top of the aristocracy was the Senatorial class, said to be endowed with wealth, high birth and ‘moral excellence’. There were around 600 Senators in the mid-second century AD. Those of this class were patricians, a social political rank, with all those below, including other aristocrats, defined as plebeians. Next came the equestrian class, originally comprising those wealthy enough to own cavalry mounts. Members of this class had slightly less wealth but were usually from a reputable lineage. They numbered some 30,000 across the empire in the mid-second century AD. Finally, in terms of the nobility, there was the curial class, with the bar set slightly lower again. The latter were usually merchants and mid-level landowners, making up a large percentage of the town councillors in the Principate Empire. Below the nobility were freemen – free in the sense that they had never been slaves. Freemen included the majority of smaller-scale merchants, artisans and professionals in Roman society.

All of the above were cives Romani, full citizens of the Roman Empire, if they came from Italy. They enjoyed the widest range of protections and privileges as defined by the Roman state and, as such, could travel the breadth of the empire in pursuit of their personal and professional ambitions. Roman women had a limited type of citizenship and were not allowed to vote or stand for public or civil office. Freemen born outside of Italy in the imperial provinces were called peregrini (‘one from abroad’ in Latin) until Caracalla’s Constitutio Antoniniana edict in AD 212, which made all freemen of the empire citizens. As such, in the first and second centuries AD, peregrini made up the vast majority of the empire’s inhabitants.

Further down the social ladder were the freedmen, slaves who had been manumitted by their masters either through earning enough money to buy their freedom or for good service. Once free, these former slaves often remained with the wider family of their pater familias – the head of the family who previously owned them – frequently taking their name in some way. Providing the correct process of manumission was followed, freedmen could become peregrini, though with fewer civic rights than a freeman, including not being able to stand for the vast number of public offices; however, the children of freedmen were automatically freemen. Many freedmen became highly successful, and given they were not allowed to stand for public office, found other ways to celebrate their lives. A common example was the provision of monumentalised funerary monuments, such as that of the baker Marcus Vergilius Eurysaces in Rome. Meanwhile, at the bottom of society were slaves.

This book covers four specific phases of Roman history. The first is the Roman Republic, dating from the overthrow of the Etrusco-Roman king Tarquin the Proud in 509 BC through to the accession of Octavian as the first emperor in 27 BC, when the Senate first acknowledged him as the Emperor Augustus. From this beginning, we talk of the Principate as a period in which the emperor was the leading citizen of the new empire. The name itself derives from princeps (chief or master). While not an official term, later emperors often assumed it on their accession, it clearly being a conceit allowing the empire to be explained away as a simple continuance of the preceding Republic. The Principate Empire featured a number of distinct dynasties:1

–The Julio-Claudian Dynasty , from the accession of Augustus in 27 BC to the death of Nero in AD 68

–The ‘Year of the Four Emperors’ in AD 69, with Vespasian the ultimate victor

–The Flavian Dynasty , from Vespasian’s accession through to the death of his son Domitian in AD 96

–The Nervo-Trajanic Dynasty , from the accession of Nerva in AD 96 to the death of Hadrian in AD 138

–The Antonine Dynasty , from the accession of Antoninus Pius in AD 138 through to the assassination of Commodus in AD 192

–The ‘Year of the Five Emperors’ in AD 193, with Pertinax the first incumbent

–The Severan Dynasty , from the accession of Septimius Severus as the ultimate victor in the ‘Year of the Five Emperors’ through to the assassination of Severus Alexander in AD 235

–The ‘Crisis of the Third Century’ , from the death of Severus Alexander to the accession of Diocletian in AD 284

The ‘Crisis of the Third Century’ was a period when the empire was under great stress from a multitude of issues that collectively threatened its very survival. These included civil war and multiple usurpations, the first deep and large-scale incursions into imperial territory by Germans and Goths over the Rhine and Danube, the deadly Plague of Cyprian and the emergence in the east of the Sassanid Persian Empire, which presented the Romans with a fully symmetrical threat there for the first time (even more so than their Parthian forebears). Taken together, these traumatic issues caused a major economic crash. The steps taken by Diocletian to drag the empire out of this chaos, in what is often styled his reformation, were so drastic that, from that point, we talk of the very different Dominate phase of the Roman Empire.

Diocletian’s newly reformed empire now referenced a much more authoritarian style of imperial control, with the name itself based on the word dominus, which meant master or lord in Latin. Gone was the conceit of the Principate with the emperor the principal citizen of the empire but still ‘one of us’. Now, with control of the military and political classes vital to the survival of the empire, he became more akin to an eastern potentate.

There were a number of principal dynasties and time periods in the Dominate phase of empire. The key ones were:2

–Diocletian’s tetrarchy , from his accession in AD 284 until Constantine I secured control of the entire empire in AD 324

–The Constantinian Dynasty , from AD 324 through to the death of Jovian in AD 364

–The Valentinian Dynasty , from the accession of Valentinian I in AD 364 through to the death of the usurper Eugenius in AD 394

–The Theodosian Dynasty , from the accession of Theodosius I the Great in AD 392 until the death of Valentinian III in AD 455

–The Fall of the West , from the accession of Petronius Maximus in AD 455 to the abdication of Romulus Augustulus as the last western emperor in AD 476 on the orders of Odoacor, a senior officer in the Roman army. The latter, leading a revolt of foederates (mercenaries hired on a tribal basis) and regular units, had shortly beforehand been proclaimed rex Italiae , King of Italy. One of his first acts once in power was to send the regalia of western imperial authority to the eastern Emperor Zeno, this officially marking the end of the western empire.

The final phase of Roman history considered here is that covering the narrative of the empire in the east, from the end of that in the west until 1453, when the Ottoman Turks finally sacked Constantinople, destroying the last vestiges of what by then had long been called the Byzantine Empire.

Given the central role often played by events in the Principate phase of the empire, a specific understanding of its geography is important. At this time, the empire was divided into provinces. The word itself provides interesting insight into the Roman attitude to its empire, the Latin provincia referencing land ‘for conquering’. There were two kinds of province in the Principate Roman Empire: senatorial provinces left to the Senate to administer, whose governors were officially called ‘proconsuls’ and remained in post for a year, and imperial provinces retained under the supervision of the emperor. The emperor personally chose the governors for these, and they were often styled legati Augusti pro praetor to officially mark them out as deputies of the emperor.

Senatorial provinces tended to be those deep within the empire where less trouble was expected. At the beginning of the first century AD these were:

–Baetica in southern Spain

–Narbonensis in southern France

–Corsica et Sardinia

–Africa Proconsularis in North Africa

–Cyrenaica et Creta

–Epirus

–Macedonia

–Achaia

–Asia in western Anatolia

–Bithynia et Pontus

I will specifically use ‘proconsul’ to reference the governors of these Senatorial provinces, and ‘governor’ to reference this position in an imperial province.

A further comment on terminology. The words ‘German’ and ‘Goth’ are frequently used, confusingly perhaps, given that the Goths themselves were of German descent. Both words are problematic because they infer a very loose tribal identity at best. While each grouping may have often shared the same blood and cultural practices, the tribes within more often fought with themselves than the Romans, and indeed, later provided many of the troops and military leaders in the Dominate Roman army. Even the term ‘tribe’ itself is problematic because many were confederations of various regional groupings, often incorporating many non-Germanic peoples. While acknowledging these issues, I retain the use of the words here for ease of reference, especially given they were terms well understood by the Romans.

Lastly, I would like to thank those who have helped make this book of big, often deliberately challenging ideas regarding the Roman world and its relationship with our world today possible. Firstly, as always, Professor Andrew Lambert of the War Studies Department at KCL, Dr Andrew Gardner at UCL’s Institute of Archaeology and Dr Steve Willis at the University of Kent. All continue to encourage my research on the Roman military. Also Professor Sir Barry Cunliffe of the School of Archaeology at Oxford University, and Professor Martin Millett at the Faculty of Classics, Cambridge University. Next, my patient proofreader and lovely wife Sara, and my dad John Elliott and friend Francis Tusa, both companions in my various escapades to research this book. As with all of my literary work, all have contributed greatly and freely, enabling this work on the legacy of Rome to reach fruition. Finally, I would like to thank my family, especially my tolerant wife Sara once again, and children Alex (also a student of military history) and Lizzie.

Thank you all.

Dr Simon Elliott

February 2021

1

TROUBLESOME BRITANNIA

As you exit Tower Hill tube station in the City of London, to the left stands the largest surviving section of Roman London’s land wall. Over 10m in height, it soars enigmatically over commuters and tourists, many of whom pass by oblivious to its unlikely story. The wall, one of the few constants in an ever-changing city, is built from courses of grey-green Kentish ragstone blocks. These were quarried 127km away to the east in the upper Medway Valley by the Classis Britannica Roman navy before being transported down the Medway and up the Thames. Every few courses the grey-green stones are interrupted by striking bonding layers of flat orange tile. These were designed by the Romans to give the wall flex in case of an earthquake.

Few think it beautiful, but I do. Even fewer know it dates back to the great warrior Emperor Septimius Severus. Hacking his way to power in the ‘Year of the Five Emperors’ in AD 193, he soon had to fight off the challenge of the usurping British governor, Clodius Albinus. The pair clashed at the titanic Battle of Lugdunum (modern Lyon) in Gaul in AD 197. This was the largest recorded civil war battle in Roman history, with 200,000 men engaged. Severus won, only just, after two days of brutal fighting. Albinus was beheaded, his body trampled by Severus on his stallion.

The emperor’s next action was to send military inspectors to Britain to bring the recalcitrant province back into the imperial fold. Their first act was to build the enormous land walls of London. This took over 420,000 man-days to complete, needing 45,000 tonnes of ragstone for the facing alone.1 They were designed not to keep out an external threat, but to send the elites and citizens of the provincial capital a blunt message: behave or else. Such is a prime example of the legacy of Rome in this farthest north-western corner of empire, the wall circuit that defines the City of London – the Square Mile – to this very day. A relic to a failed usurper.

There are many examples of the Roman legacy in Britain, some visible above the surface, some below it, and some purely cultural. Rome’s legacy here actually manifests in three very specific ways. First, much of the modern built environment and transport infrastructure is a direct result of the Roman occupation. Think of the provincial capital London with the striking Severan example above, the many towns and cities that were originally the site of a Roman fortress or fort, and the pre-motorway trunk road network. This is specifically linked to the laborious and lengthy campaigns of conquest here that lasted over forty years, far longer than in other parts of the empire. Second, as part of this process the far north and Ireland were never conquered, despite at least two intense efforts regarding the former. This set in place the political settlement of the islands of Britain that exists to this day. Third, the catastrophic way the later diocese of Britannia left the empire in the early fifth century AD. Today, many believe Britain a place of difference in Europe, as evidenced by the fierce debate when Britain exited the European Union. Few realise this sense of variance dates back directly to the end of Roman rule in Britain.

Town and Country

An understanding of pre-Roman Britain is important to appreciate the empire’s later legacy. Repopulation after the last Ice Age began around 9600 BC.2 Those arriving were hunter-gatherers, part of the Upper Paleolithic Ahrensburgian culture that stretched from the Atlantic coast to Poland, later to be replaced by various European Mesolithic cultures.

Around 6500 BC, a dramatic event then occurred that has defined Britain geographically ever since. This was the final submergence of Doggerland, the North Sea land-bridge linking Britain to the continent. However, the islands remained culturally connected to mainland Europe, with Britain continuing to participate in each new wave of social and technological advancement. This included farming, which arrived with the onset of the Neolithic period around 4200 BC, the Copper Age from 3000 BC and the Bronze Age from 2500 BC. The latter coincided with the appearance of the Bell Beaker culture that linked the islands of Britain with every corner of the European landmass, including the Mediterranean. Archaeological evidence from this period, including the Amesbury Archer buried near Stonehenge (who most likely originated in Switzerland), shows that Britain was fully engaged in long-range European trading networks spanning far and wide across the continent, with the English Channel and North Sea certainly no barrier but a place of connectivity. A Bronze Age boat dating to 2500 BC, discovered in Dover in 1992 and now displayed in the town museum, dramatically shows this, given it was clearly employed to facilitate regular maritime trade with mainland Europe.

The British Iron Age followed from around 800 BC, with Britain again fully participating in the ensuing Hallstatt culture and its later La Tène development. The latter peaked in Britain around 100 BC with the onset of the Late Iron Age, setting the scene for the arrival of Rome.

Prior to Gaius Julius Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul in the 50s BC, little was known in the Mediterranean world about the islands of Britain. Native Britons were first referenced by the fourth-century BC geographer Pytheas of Massilia, who circumnavigated the islands during an extensive maritime exploration.3 He called them the Pretani, meaning painted ones, referencing a tattooing or woad skin-painting tradition among some of the local tribes. This was the origin of the later name Britain. Later geographers and merchants added details such as the shadowy Druidic cults and readily available extractive raw materials. The latter included iron,4 tin, silver and gold. Britain was also known for its exports of woollen goods, hunting dogs and slaves, though whether any of these reached the markets of the Mediterranean is doubtful. Otherwise, it remained a fearful place to the Romans, its islands shrouded in mystery, and across terrifying Oceanus, as they called the seas outside of the Mediterranean.

During the Late Iron Age, Britain remained intimately connected with pre-Roman Gaul, with key tribes sharing names with counterparts on the continent. These included the Belgae, on the south coast; Atrebates, in the Thames Valley; and Parisii, above the Humber. Cross-Channel exporting continued to flourish too – for example, the very fine greensand millstones and quern stones manufactured by a thriving industry at East Cliff in Folkestone.

From 58 BC, this connectivity was brutally dislocated by Caesar’s Gallic wars. From that time onwards Britain became a place of refuge for those fleeing his bloody campaigns on the continent. Plutarch later calculated that these campaigns cost the lives of 1 million Gauls and the enslavement of another million.5 To contextualise the scale of this loss, the entire population of Britain at this time was 2 million.6 This level of carnage and slaughter might explain the comparative ease with which Gaul was incorporated into the empire. Suddenly, Britain’s umbilical connection with continental neighbours of like mind and culture had been shut off. From that moment, the tribes in Britain found themselves dealing with Romans casting an avaricious eye across the English Channel. They were soon to arrive.

Caesar’s two incursions into Britain in 55 and 54 BC were set firmly within his campaigns of conquest in Gaul. This in itself is a striking example of how closely Britain and pre-Roman Gaul were perceived to be linked. Caesar had three key reasons for invading. First, Britain remained a source of trouble on the north-western flank of his conquests in Gaul. Second, Caesar was always on the lookout for an opportunity to make money, and knew of Britain’s exploitable natural resources. Finally, Caesar was never one to pass the chance for new glory, with Britain being the ultimate challenge.

It is hard to explain to a modern audience what a truly fantastical adventure Caesar planned. In the first instance, his force would have to cross Oceanus. Such a voyage was a frightful proposition to sailors and legionaries used to the comparatively benign Mare Nostrum, as the Romans called the Mediterranean. Then, as detailed, once in Britain he would be campaigning in a land of which the Romans knew little. This was truly a leap in the dark.

His first invasion in 55 BC was a resounding flop, though he attempted to gloss over the failures in a self-promoting narrative. His fleet, carrying 12,000 legionaries, had to fight a contested landing on the east coast of Kent that could have just as easily gone against the Romans. Next, the failure of his cavalry to arrive meant he was unable to pursue