An Imperial Possession, page 29
DEVIATIONS FROM THE ARCHETYPAL MILITARY IDENTITY
In presenting the evidence for uniform and coherent elements of a military identity in Britain, this chapter has focused on the first centuries of Roman rule, but it must be emphasized that there was change over time and variability within the military identity. By the fourth century the predilection among soldiers for erecting monumental inscriptions appears to have ended and the military community as a result becomes less visible for us. Even at earlier dates, though, discrepant behaviour is to be expected given the widespread origins and background of the soldiery on the one hand, and, on the other, the likelihood of a steady growth in recruitment of British-born individuals in the second and third centuries. It bears repetition that the common assumption that local recruitment rapidly replaced external levies from other provinces, as is clear in second-century Africa for instance, may overstate the speed and thoroughness of the transition in Britain. For one thing the British garrison size was extremely large (perhaps four times that of Africa) and the number of colonies and legionary canabae relatively small (about one sixth of the number in Africa). The epigraphic evidence for both legionaries and auxiliaries in Britain gives very few hints at local recruitment and rather more attestations of overseas origins.
Other identity markers can be discerned here and there, whether stressing ethnic origins, adherence to an imported Germanic cult or distinctive dietary or culinary habits. However, notwithstanding hierarchical differences and diversity in its ranks and units, the Roman army did generate a profound sense of community and shared the cultural identity of the soldiery with certain closely associated groups of civilians. Quite a high proportion of the people who initially made up the population of the garrison settlements were probably ex-soldiers, foreigners or outsiders to the local areas where garrisons were set up.
Assuming the native British element in such settlements rose over time, the impression one has is that in the process they were assimilated into the military community and took on its strongly developed identity. There is negligible evidence for this army culture being exported out from the garrison communities to the wider rural communities of north and west Britain. Some at least of the womenfolk of the military community were native Britons, as Regina the Catuvellaunian at South Shields, an anonymous Cornovian woman at Ilkley and Verecunda Rufilia, the Dobunnian wife of Excingus, who was probably in the garrison at Templeborough. None of these women was from the locality of the fort where she was buried.
At one level, diversity within the cultural evidence of the garrison settlements may simply indicate differences in status between soldiers and dependent civilians, officers and other ranks, or legionaries, cavalrymen and auxiliary infantry. But ethnic and unit identity may also have been significant factors on occasion. Even when the recruitment base of auxiliary units bore no relation to the implied ethnicity of the unit name, the regimental history and traditions of individual units remained important. Successive units at a single fort site may thus leave rather different material traces.
In the third century we can still find units with a strongly ethnic character in Britain. The presence of German troops at Housesteads is revealed not just by the inscriptions of the numerus Hnaudifridi and cuneus Frisiorum, by the Germanic divinities extolled (Thincsus, Alaisiagae – Beda and Fimmilena – Baudihillia and Friagabis) and by expressions of specific German identity, but also by the presence of Frisian pottery at the site. Fundamentally, though, the German garrisons at Housesteads represent a variant on the military identity, not a dramatic departure from it. The possible identification through ceramic traditions of African contingents in legions (VI and XX) and auxiliary units in the mid-second century has been mentioned already. While it is clear that in some respects these soldiers blended quite well into the military community during their service lives, it is also probable that such people retained a lasting sense of difference in their domestic lives.
A startling instance of this is provided by the published excavation of a Roman military cemetery in the upper Eden valley at Brougham. This cemetery was established c. 200 and was in use for about a century before being abandoned. A total of about 200 cremation burials has been excavated, with evidence of the ash variously deposited in urns, in the grave, with only a small part of the pyre debris included, or, in a few cases, no human remains at all. The date of the cemetery makes the predominance of cremation over inhumation a little unusual, but not unparalleled for the army. Fragments of twenty-five inscribed tombstones are known from the site, along with four additional fragments of sculptural tombstones. Although the presence of soldiers is not explicitly stated in the texts, some of the pyre debris included fragments of weapons and other finds of distinctive military type and some fragments of relief tombstones look military. Three individuals were allegedly aged seventy or more years, and several burials were of wives or children. The people commemorated had either ‘Celtic’ (10), Latin (3) or German (2) names. Previously the nomenclature had been taken to indicate that the bulk of the ‘Celtic’ names were probably local Britons. However, analysis of the burial rite and the grave goods suggests a much more Continental aspect to the cemetery as a whole. There are several iron bucket pendants of a type that is hitherto unparalleled in Britain and seems to relate to the trans-Danubian region of central Europe. A number of the cremations appear to have included whole horses with the deceased – again without parallel in Britain, but with possible Continental and Germanic parallels. There are other finds that have specific links to the Germanic and trans-Danubian regions, including groups of unusual glass beads. The ‘Celtic’ names could evidently be appropriate to such people. Taken together, the burial rite and finds strongly suggest a group with strong ethnic connections with the trans-Danubian or Germanic regions, while the grave markers stress adherence to commemorative norms of the military community. If there were native Britons from the region among the inhabitants at this garrison community in the third century they are rather hard to spot in material terms. The women and children associated with the soldiers here shared many of their cultural peculiarities. All in all, this seems a perfect example of the potential complexities of the military community, both in terms of what was held in common with other soldiers and how much unusual cultural baggage could also be present at a single garrison post. The Brougham cemetery also presages a key development of the later empire, the Germanization of the Roman army.
8
De Excidio Britanniae
Decline and Fall?
The late Roman history of Britain is dominated by perceptions of decline. This is exemplified by the post-Roman view of British writers such as Gildas, probably writing in the early sixth century:
The Romans therefore informed our homeland that they could not go on thus plagued at frequent intervals for expeditions that required so much effort, nor could the marks of Roman power, that great and glorious army, be worn out by land and sea on account of unwarlike and roving bandits. Rather they urged the Britons to stand on their own two feet, to get accustomed to bearing arms…
(De Excidio Britanniae [On the Destruction of Britain])
The theme of decadence and destruction is present in late Roman writings too and this view of the calamitous abandonment of Britain by the Romans as the western empire descended into chaos has been hugely influential in shaping modern thinking about late Roman and sub-Roman Britain. At root this was seen as a product of the declining efficiency of the Roman army and the progressive stripping away of the best troops for action elsewhere, leaving the British provinces both vulnerable and increasingly expensive to maintain. Yet there is a danger here of moving from history to literary trope based on the theme of decline. We need to examine the evidence for change in the late Roman period, to try to understand its causes and effects, and to appreciate evidence of stability alongside signs of difficulties. A basic understanding of the political changes that the empire underwent between the early third and early fifth centuries is necessary to set this debate in context.
There was a partial breakdown of the Principate in the middle of the third century, as a result of disastrous foreign and civil wars, endemic usurpation and assassination at the political centre. The effects of the ‘Third-Century Crisis’, as it is generally known, were profound, even though the empire stabilized itself. There were over twenty recognized emperors and numerous co-regents and usurpers between 235 and 284, few of them dying peacefully in their beds. Precariously ruling emperors and usurpers alike gathered troops to fight off ‘barbarian’ and Persian attacks and to stamp out rivals. Vexillations from the British legions, for instance, are known in Germania and Pannonia in the period 255–60. It is probable that many other units and detachments were called away for protracted service on the Continent and some may not have returned.
In the twenty-one-year period from 235 to 255 alone there were ten legitimate emperors, but just as recovery was getting under way with the joint rule of Valerian in the east and his son Gallienus in the west, another low point was reached in 260. Valerian was defeated and captured by the Persian King Shapur I (later dying in captivity) and there were incursions across the European river frontiers, with an army of Iuthungi penetrating down into Italy. Following a dispute about booty recovered from this retreating war-band, Marcus Postumus, the general in command of the Lower Rhine army, declared himself emperor in opposition to Gallienus. Rather than attacking Gallienus, Postumus effectively created a replica imperial administration and court within a part of the western empire. The Gallic empire, as it is known, involved the provinces of Gaul, Germany, Raetia, Britain and Spain in what was effectively a secessionist state run on Roman lines. It endured for fourteen years and brought a degree of stability to the north-western provinces. After the assassination of Postumus in 269, there was a succession of shorter-lived Gallic emperors – there are only two surviving coins (one from Oxfordshire) to mark the extremely brief reign of Domitianus – before Aurelian reunited the breakaway state with the empire in 274.
The impact of the raids of Franci, Iuthungi, Alammani and others across the Rhine and Danube was out of proportion to their actual numbers or the physical damage they inflicted. Above all, they instilled a sense of fear and a crisis of confidence in the Roman army that had not existed before. There was a consequent shift in the balance of power across Rome’s European frontiers and heightened levels of warfare. In response to the real or imagined ‘barbarian’ threat, the imperial capital was shifted northwards to Milan. By the end of the century, there were additional imperial capitals, each in close proximity to one or more of the major field armies.
The level of political instability in the mid-third century led to many ad hoc changes in provincial government. Unsurprisingly, imperial paranoia about potential rivals reached new heights and, increasingly, provincial governors and military commanders came to be appointed from the equestrian order. This heralded the further rise of the professional soldier in Roman society, and many emperors of the third century (and later) came from relatively humble origins, with a background in military service not in the traditional aristocratic pursuits of the senatorial order. Most of the third-century emperors originated in the Balkan region, rather than the core Mediterranean provinces that had supplied the bulk of earlier ones.
There were major reforms of the empire’s administrative and military structure under a series of strong emperors at the end of the third and in the early fourth century. Diocletian, who came to power in 284, devised over several years a new system of power-sharing in a bid to end the shambles that imperial succession had become. He first appointed a fellow Augustus, Maximian, and divided the empire into eastern and western halves, though he was always the senior partner in the joint rulership. Subsequently, both men appointed a junior Caesar – effectively an heir apparent. The Tetrarchy, as this new system is known, provided a generation of stability before it broke down with the intervention of the army supporting a rival claimant to the western empire. The new emperor was Constantine the Great and his proclamation occurred in Britain in 306.
The Tetrarchs and Constantine brought in a series of major reforms, the latter building on the work of the former. We should view these as being aimed fundamentally at restoring the stability of the Roman state, not at creating an entirely new version of ‘Rome’. In particular, many provinces were further sub-divided, creating more than double the number of provincial commands, but now grouped under a series of twelve regional dioceses, controlled by senior civil administrators called vicars (vicarii). Groups of dioceses were assigned to a series of regional praetorian prefects. The Diocese of Britain (Fig. 9), established by 312 and comprising the four provinces of Maxima Caesariensis, Flavia Caesariensis, Britannia Prima and Britannia Secunda, was placed under the overall authority of the praetorian prefecture for the Gallic region. One of the main effects of the new political structure was to increase the links between Britain and the near Continent, where the praetorian prefect (and at times a western emperor) had a main base at Trier.
The provincial governors (consulares or praesides) now rarely had command of any troops, these being devolved to separate military commanders (duces and comites). These generals were placed under the authority of new senior commanders for cavalry and infantry (the magister equitum and magister peditum). The events of the third century had created a distinction between the frontier troops and new-style mobile units who accompanied emperors (the comitatus). This too was crystallized by the early fourth century into a basic distinction, in terms of pay, conditions and role, between field army units (comitatenses) and frontier troops (limitanei and ripenses). More will be said below about these changes in military organization.
The basic structure of the early fourth century appears to have endured through to the end of provincial life in Britain. The locations of the British provinces and their capitals are imprecisely known, though it is fairly certain that Maxima Caesariensis was in south-east England, with London as its capital (Fig. 9). Britannia Prima appears to have been focused on western England, with either Cirencester or Gloucester as capital. The East Midlands probably comprised the heart of Flavia Caesariensis with Lincoln as capital, in which case Britannia Secunda was northern Britain with its centre at York (or vice versa). By the later fourth century there may have been a fifth British province, though even its identity is disputed. It apparently already existed when it was recovered from enemies in 368 by Count Theodosius and renamed Valentia. It may simply have been a rebranding of Maxima Caesariensis or another of the existing four. These issues are not resolvable at present and provide a perfect example of the limitations of our knowledge of late Roman Britain.
Another major development of the fourth century was the progressive rise of Christianity. Subject to severe persecution under the Tetrarchs, it was recognized by Galerius and Constantine as a legitimate religion in 311/313; late in his life, Constantine was the first emperor to convert. Despite a number of pagan ‘revivals’ during the fourth century, the Christianization of the empire was complete by the 390s when Theodosius I outlawed all pagan worship.
A third trend that gained momentum during the fourth century was the increasing ‘Germanization’ of the western empire, as a result of the resettlement of Germanic groups inside the frontiers and their increasing numerical predominance in the imperial armies. Although they adopted
Figure 9. The Province of Britannia and its subdivisions
something of the ethos of the military community, their weight of numbers and cultural difference led to profound changes in Roman society at large and in military identity in particular. When Theodosius I died in 395, the repercussions of these changes came to the fore. Although his son Honorius was nominally emperor in the western provinces from 395 to 423, real power was effectively held by a succession of military chief ministers, of whom Flavius Stilicho is the best known. Of Vandal descent, Stilicho was the de facto ruler of the west and clearly made increasing use of barbarian federates in the Roman armies he commanded. Germanic groups were incorporated either as laeti, who were permitted to settle in a region, with the requirement that they provided troops for regular units, or they were simply recruited en bloc as federate allies as need arose. The flow of Germans into the empire was also a means of relieving pressure on the frontier regions, as migration of the Huns from the east forced others westwards and southwards. Coupled with the impact of external attacks and civil war, the effects of such Germanic groups on provincial society in Continental Europe were dramatic. Britain was to some degree insulated from the worst of this, but the island was not immune from the forces of change.
The record of warfare (and events in Britain in general) is even more fragmentary for the third and fourth centuries than for the second (Table 6). As in earlier periods, there appear to have been relatively rare major threats to the British provinces, though with episodic evidence of raiding and low-intensity infiltrations by seaborne raiders. Some of the more serious military situations may have resulted from secession or civil war, as in the campaign of the western Caesar, Constantius Chlorus, to retake Britain in 296.
The story of Carausius and Allectus illustrates an important theme in the history of late Roman Britain – its reputation as a breeding ground for usurpers to imperial power. Carausius was a Menapian from Belgium who had distinguished himself in Maximian’s first war in Gaul. As a result, and because he had experience as a sailor, he was given a special command in 286 to put together a fleet to clear the seas of German pirates who were raiding the Channel coasts. He appears to have been very successful in this, but there were suggestions that booty recovered was being siphoned off by him, rather than returned in proper measure to provincial communities or the treasury. When he learnt that Maximian had ordered his execution he ‘usurped the imperial power and
