How Rome Fell: Death of a Superpower Read online

  The most spectacular trade links were with India and China. From the Red Sea ports of Egypt large numbers of merchant ships left in July of each year, catching the monsoon winds that would carry them directly to reach India. Their cargoes included wine, glassware, metals and coin, textiles and frankincense from Arabia. The return journey began in December or January using the north-east monsoon winds to take them back, bringing perfumes, pepper, precious stones, ivory, cotton cloth and silk, which the Indians themselves had obtained from China. Some sailors even went further than this. Chinese records from 166 mention the arrival at the court of the Han emperor of an embassy from the king of Ta-ch'in, whose name was An-tun. Ta-ch'in was the name for Rome, and An-tun was doubtless Marcus Aurelius Antoninus. It was unlikely to have been an official visit and the gifts presented by the merchants - ivory, rhinoceros horn and tortoiseshell - had all been obtained en route.

  Both Rome and China were dimly aware of the other's existence, but the distances involved ensured that there was never any direct and meaningful contact. Traders also trekked over vast distances to carry goods overland along the famous Silk Road. Silk was much in demand in the empire and seems to have been available in great quantities. The same was true of pepper. In the first century Pliny the Elder commented on the vast sums spent by Romans on these and other luxuries. It is doubtful that many men travelled the whole route themselves, and the trade was controlled by a succession of middlemen. There were workshops in Syria that wove silk more finely than anything the Chinese themselves could produce, and this semi-transparent gauze was reexported back eastwards in considerable quantities. There were persistent rumours in China that the Romans had silkworms of their own producing this finer material, but in fact it was not until the sixth century that monks smuggled some silkworms to Constantinople and production began in the west. Once again the Romans did not create this longdistance trade, but the conditions of the empire massively increased its scale."

  Trade flourished and Pliny was convinced that it was of general benefit: now that world wide communications have been established thanks to the authority of the Roman Empire ... living standards have improved by the interchange of goods and by partnership in the joy of peace and by the general availability of things previously concealed'.'

  The Philosopher Emperor

  When Marcus Aurelius became emperor in 161, the empire was at its height. It was prosperous and stable, and the sophisticated culture that mingled Greek and Roman elements with other influences was flourishing. It was not a perfect society. Slavery was widespread and the lives of the poorest free citizens were often spent in extremely squalid conditions. Perhaps even more shocking to the modern mind, human beings were regularly slaughtered for entertainment. Yet neither before nor for a long time afterwards was so much of Europe, North Africa and the Near East at peace. More people were better off than had been the case before. For Gibbon, writing in the 1770s, the message was clear:

  If a man were called to fix the period in the history of the world, during which the condition of the human race was most happy and prosperous, he would, without hesitation, name that which elapsed from the death of Domitian to the accession of Commodus [i.e. 96-i8o]. The vast extent of the Roman empire was governed by absolute power, under the guidance of virtue and wisdom. The armies were restrained by the firm but gentle hand of four successive emperors, whose characters and authority commanded involuntary respect. The forms of the civil administration were carefully preserved by Nerva, Trajan, Hadrian, and the Antonines, who delighted in the image of liberty, and were pleased with considering themselves as the accountable ministers of the laws.Z"

  It was not an unreasonable conclusion at the time he was writing, although Gibbon was also appreciative of the advantages of life in Britain and Europe in his own day. The Roman emperors he mentions were probably amongst the most decent and capable men to hold the supreme office. They were all mature men when they came to power, worked hard at the job and eventually died natural deaths.

  The reign of Marcus Aurelius was particularly hard. It began with a war in the east, once again sparked by a dispute over Armenia. The Parthians killed a Roman governor and wiped out his army, and launched raids deep into Syria. Marcus had made his brother by adoption co-ruler, giving him the title of Caesar while styling himself Augustus. Caesar Lucius Verus was sent to take command of a grand war effort, although the sources suggest that he was mainly a figurehead and the war was conducted by his subordinates. The Romans repulsed the invaders and then advanced down the Tigris to sack both the Parthian capital Ctesiphon and the nearby Hellenistic city of Seleucia in 165. After this the Parthian king sued for peace. Verus returned to Italy at the end of 166, and the detachments of troops drawn from all over the empire also started to go back to their home bases.

  With them came a dreadful epidemic, whose identity cannot now be established, although smallpox and bubonic plague have both been suggested. For the next three decades much of the empire was ravaged by periodic outbreaks of this disease, and in 189 it was said that 2,000 were dying in Rome every day. The overall death toll cannot be estimated - as we have established, there are no reliable figures for how big the population was before the epidemic started. It was certainly seen by contemporaries as an appalling and catastrophic event. The suggestion that some 1o per cent of the total population died, with higher proportions in the crowded cities and army bases, is plausible enough, but is no more than a guess. Census returns from Egypt seem to show a severe drop in the population at this time, with some communities being abandoned altogether. There may be traces of dreadful losses in army recruitment patterns.29

  While the empire was reeling under this blow - perhaps because of it - a serious problem developed on the Danubian frontier, beginning with a raid on Pannonia by 6,ooo Germanic warriors from a number of tribes in 167. This was eventually repulsed, but the perception that Rome was vulnerable encouraged more attacks. A series of bitter campaigns were fought, most of all against the Germanic Marcomanni and Quadi and the nomadic Sarmatian Iazyges. Marcus presided in person over most of these operations. In 17o a raiding band of Germans reached Italy and attacked the city of Aquileia, while another group had penetrated as far as Greece. The sources for these campaigns are poor, but there seem to have been a number of Roman defeats before the tide turned and one by one the tribes were forced to accept peace terms.

  Then in 175 Marcus faced an unexpected threat when a false report of his death prompted the Syrian governor Avidius Cassius to declare himself emperor. Marcus' son Commodus was still only thirteen and so could not yet be seen as a viable heir. The revolt collapsed as soon as the truth was known. Cassius and his son were killed, but otherwise there was virtually no bloodshed. However, Marcus was drawn away from the Danube to ensure that the east was secure. Fighting flared up again on the frontier in 177 and the following year the emperor left Rome to resume personal command. He never returned. There was talk of plans to annex two new provinces beyond the Danube. Excavations in the Czech Republic in recent years confirmed that large army bases were established there at this period. A fresh campaign was anticipated when Marcus fell ill and died, perhaps at Vindobona (modern Vienna)."

  Marcus Aurelius had been a decent, intelligent man who had tried to do his best. His Meditations may not be the most original or greatest work of philosophy ever written, but it is striking to read such sentiments from the ruler of most of the known world.

  Marcus was to be greatly missed. The senator historian Dio, who grew up under his rule, gloomily wrote that after his death `our history now descends from a kingdom of gold to one of iron and rust, as affairs did for the Romans of that day'.3'

  2

  The Secret of Empire

  `for the secret of empire was now revealed, that it was possible to make an emperor elsewhere than Rome' - The senator and historian Tacitus, early second century.'

  hen Marcus Aurelius died there was no doubt about the succession. Commodus was now eighteen and had be
en ruling as co-emperor with his father since the end of 176. In a sense, Marcus' death meant that the empire had just one emperor instead of two. It was the first time that an emperor was succeeded by a son born during his reign, and Commodus boasted that he was `born to the imperial purple'. The last four emperors had all been adopted by their predecessors and each had assumed power at a mature age and proved to be capable rulers. This had worked well, but had never been a deliberate plan, since none of the emperors had had a son to succeed him. Nerva, Trajan and Hadrian were childless - Hadrian, and probably also Trajan, showed more passion in their affairs with boys than women - and Antoninus Pius had a daughter, but not a son.

  It was only chance that Commodus outlived his father, for several brothers, including his twin, died in infancy. Marcus Aurelius had a healthy, legitimate son, and it would have seemed odd to all concerned had he ignored his son and groomed someone else for the succession. Nor would an adopted heir ever have felt secure while such an obvious rival was alive. Later, with hindsight, many Romans and plenty of modern scholars criticised the failure of the wise philosopher to recognise the inadequacy of his son. This is unfair, and it is doubtful that they would have been generous to a man who had executed his own son to clear the path for an adopted heir.'

  Fortune dictated that in i8o Marcus had a son old enough to succeed, but still young and inexperienced. The record of young emperors was not good, and only the sixteen-year-old Nero had been younger when he came to power. It was hard for anyone, let alone an inexperienced youth, to resist the temptations of effectively absolute power. In a court where almost everyone was jockeying for position and influence, a ruler was unlikely to be told unpleasant truths or restrained from folly. Hollywood has consistently portrayed Commodus as a monster - most recently in Gladiator - and several of our ancient sources agree with this judgement, depicting him as vicious, even in childhood. Dio, who began his senatorial career under Commodus, thought the emperor `not naturally evil, but simple minded' and easily led astray. He certainly showed little enthusiasm for the work of being emperor. This was less a question of shaping great policy and more about responding to appeals and dealing with problems as they were brought to his attention. An emperor needed to be available, open to requests from individuals and communities, ready to give rulings based on law and precedent. During one of his many journeys Hadrian was pestered by a woman, but brusquely said that he did not have the time to deal with her. Her yelled response - `Then stop being emperor' - immediately made him stop and listen to her petition. Marcus Aurelius was renowned for the time he devoted to hearing any case brought before him. A conscientious emperor spent long hours in often dull work.'

  Commodus, however, was not interested. Within a few months he returned to Rome from the Danube and never again left Italy, where he became obsessed with the sports of the circus and arena. Privately, he raced chariots on his estates, but he was less reticent about displaying his other skills in the Colosseum. Days were devoted to watching the emperor slaughter animals with javelin or bow. He also appeared as a gladiator, usually fencing with blunt weapons, but sometimes fighting bouts with sharpened blades, although care was taken to ensure that the emperor came to no harm. While the emperor played, the task of running the empire passed into other hands. A series of court favourites wielded massive influence and power, often becoming rich in the process. None were senators, several were equestrians and others were slaves and freedmen of the imperial household. Some were capable, others utterly corrupt and many somewhere in between, but the empire was not supposed to function this way. It had always been true that anyone with access to the emperor gained importance in relation to their ability to sway his decisions. Yet such power was always precarious, and in turn each of Commodus' favourites lost his trust; others were sacrificed because of their unpopularity. All were executed. Unlike his father, the young emperor had no hesitation in ordering the deaths of his subjects, including many senators and equestrians. From early in the reign there were a succession of real or alleged plots to murder Commodus. Each brought a new wave of arrests and executions.4

  As the years went by, Commodus' behaviour became increasingly bizarre. Dio recalled one occasion when the emperor decapitated an ostrich in the arena and then moved towards the rows of seats occupied by the Senate:

  holding the head in his left hand and in his right hand raising aloft his bloody sword; and though he spoke not a word, yet he wagged his head with a grin, indicating that he would treat us in the same way. And many indeed would have perished by the sword on the spot, for laughing at him (for it was laughter rather than indignation that overcame us), if I had not chewed some laurel leaves, which I got from my garland, myself, and persuaded others near me to do the same, so that in the steady movement of our jaws we might conceal the fact that we were laughing.'

  Not everyone may have found Commodus' antics as comic and disturbing as the senators. Some Romans were obsessed with gladiators and perhaps responded to the emperor styling himself the `Amazon-like, left handed sword-fighter', or dressing and acting as Hercules. The praetorian guard who were the main military force in Rome enjoyed the lax discipline and licence granted to them.6

  Yet after twelve years many members of the court had wearied of life under such a capricious ruler and a palace conspiracy succeeded where other attempts had failed. The prime movers were the chamberlain Eclectus, Commodus' favourite mistress Marcia and Aemilius Laetus, one of the two prefects in command of the praetorian guard. It was rumoured that Marcia had accidentally discovered an execution order including their three names. Another story claimed that on i January 193 Commodus planned to kill both the consuls and then process from the gladiatorial barracks dressed for the arena to become sole consul for the year. Instead, on New Year's Eve Marcia poisoned the emperor's beef. When he vomited and began to show signs of recovery, the conspirators sent in an athlete who strangled him to death. The Caesar born to the purple was thirty-one when he died and had reigned for more than twelve years.7

  Pertinax: The Freedman's Son

  Commodus left no heir, and anyway the conspirators would not have wanted a new emperor likely to avenge his death, so they looked instead for a successor from the Senate. During the night some of the conspirators visited the house of the sixty-six-year-old Publius Helvius Pertinax. Contemporaries believed that he had not been involved in the plot, and most historians accept this. It was an indication of the nervous mood of the times that Pertinax sent a representative to see the corpse before he was willing to accept that the emperor was dead. Reassured, he then went straight to the camp of the praetorian guard. Laetus paraded the soldiers and they were told that Commodus had died of natural causes. Pertinax promised each soldier 12,000 sesterces to recognise him as the new emperor.

  Only after securing the praetorians' loyalty in this way, did Pertinax seek approval from his fellow senators. In the early hours of i January messengers were sent summoning the Senate to an extraordinary meeting. There was an element of farce when Pertinax and his attendants found the Senate House itself locked, and no one was able to track down the doorman who kept the keys for some time. As a result, Rome's high council met at first in the nearby Temple of Concord. Pertinax made a speech declaring that he did not want to accept imperial rule, pleading age and infirmity. A good emperor was not supposed to want power and there was a long tradition of feigned reluctance. The senators knew how the conventions worked and pressed him to accept the supreme office. Almost all were grateful that Commodus was gone, and in the following days they issued an almost hysterical decree abusing his memory and repeatedly demanded that his corpse be dragged through the streets on a meat hook and degraded. Doubtless many of those who had done well under the previous regime were all the more vocal now in their condemnation. However, Pertinax had already given orders for a proper burial, no doubt eager to avoid upsetting the praetorians.'

  Pertinax was a distinguished senator, but his career had been highly unorthodox and his background w
as in marked contrast to the Caesar born to the purple. His father was a freed slave who had done very well in the lumber trade in northern Italy. The young Pertinax had received a good education and spent most of his twenties working as a schoolteacher. Tiring of this, he asked his father's patron to secure him a commission in the army and was eventually made a prefect in command of a cohort of auxiliary infantry. This was an equestrian position and Pertinax must have become a member of the order at this point if he had not already been enrolled in its ranks.

  The teacher proved himself a gifted soldier in the arduous wars of Marcus Aurelius' reign, rising through the equestrian ranks. In 175 the emperor made Pertinax a senator in the field - writing to the Senate to notify them - and placed him in command of a legion. He seems to have rewarded other equestrians in the same way. An inscription recounts the career of one Marcus Valerius Maximianus who was commanding a cavalry unit when `he killed with his own hand Valao, the king of the Naristae' during the campaigns on the Danube. As a reward he was subsequently made a senator and placed in command of a succession of legions. Marcus Aurelius seems to have been eager to promote talent, but it is also probable that the impact of the plague, combined with the losses from campaigns, meant that there was for a while a shortage of senators of the right age and ability to provide enough senior officers for the army.