Legion: Life in the Roman Army serves as a companion volume to the British Museum’s 2024 exhibition of the same name.[1] The Roman army has no shortage of admirers, especially among enthusiasts. This is no surprise. It remains one of the world’s most consequential military organizations. Whether evaluated via military victories or social integration and movement, there is no doubting the success of the Roman army. Yet from the start, Abdy is not blind to the realities of Rome’s “most overt and rapacious military imperialism” and the “war machine that sustained such a darkly charismatic empire” (14). Some 270 pages later, he concludes his tour of the Roman army with a section titled “A World of Casual Cruelty.” In between, the volume traces life in the Roman army from roughly 27 BCE (during the reign of Augustus) through 238 CE (during the reign of Maximinus Thrax and the beginning of a new era of Roman imperial and military history). Inevitably, because of our material evidence, there are occasional dives beyond each of these termini.
The front and back matter include a map, timeline, list of Roman emperors, and glossary. The Introduction presents the Roman army as a nearly modern and multi-cultural institution: a war machine and a tool for social mobility (via pay, citizenship, and status). The book is then divided into eight chapters, each with several subsections. The first three chapters consider the military lives of lower-class or regular Roman soldiers and create connections with some of the very real legionaries and auxiliaries who once served the Roman empire. In Chapter I (“Enlisting”), images and discussions of letters from two second-century soldiers (both from Egypt), Apion (who changed his name to Antonius Maximus) and Claudius Terentianus, show the real concerns such men had about their travel, equipment, and prospects. While snippets of these letters are translated, readers may wish that complete translations would have been included, so that the voices of these soldiers could be heard in even greater detail. This first chapter also includes photographic evidence of Rome’s vaunted training regime: an over five-foot tall wooden target from Carlisle, England shaped very much like a practice mannequin on a modern soccer field (52) and an ox skull from Vindolanda riddled with catapult-bolt holes (53). Such implements, among several others, demonstrate the army’s commitment to preparedness.
Chapter II (“A Soldier’s Remains”) employs the extraordinary skeletal remains of a soldier (79) who died in Herculaneum during the eruption of Vesuvius in 79 CE to illustrate some of the equipment, dress, and tasks of a Roman soldier. The use of skeletal remains adds a macabre reality to the narrative. Similar examples are found elsewhere in the volume, including a discussion (199-201) of the remains of the Lyon soldier—who may have been murdered and dumped in a well in the aftermath of the bloody conflict between Septimius Severus and Clodius Albinus in 197 CE. More murder victims (who were perhaps soldiers) are found in a pit in Canterbury (244-246), while the remains of executed victims are also included (268, 274).
The introduction of real Roman soldiers continues in Chapter III (“Ranks and Roles”). Here, soldiers’ tombstones and cenotaphs offer a glimpse at available career paths and unfortunate ends. The effigy tombstone of Marcus Favonius Facilis remains in Colchester and clearly indicates the kit—including his vine-rod—and comportment of the centurion (91-95). The tombstone of Caecilius Avitus (96), an optio, is used to introduce various officers below the rank of centurion. Although no image of the inscription is included, the discussion of the long career of Marcus Petronius Fortunatus (99-100, 113-114) reveals how a career in the Roman army might take soldiers around the world, from York to Syria-Palaestina, and various stations in between. Perhaps the most famous cenotaph of all, that of Marcus Caelius (105, 110-111), who died in the Varian war, indicates, among other things, the array of awards a successful soldier could receive and brandish. Combined, these first three chapters introduce readers to real Roman soldiers and thereby build a connection that is sometimes lost in institutional histories.
Chapter IV (“Advance to Aristocracy”) concentrates on the nobility and upper classes by focusing on equestrian and senatorial officers as well as the role of the emperor as head of the Roman army. Chapter V (“Dressing for Battle”) illustrates the varied arms and armor of various Roman soldiers. Here we find remarkable images of the famous scutum of Dura-Europos (159), our most complete surviving shield from the Roman world, an array of helmets (156-157, see also 138-139), armor (150-153), swords (161-162), and even an example of a soldier’s hobnailed boot (167). Other images of equipment also appear throughout the volume, as can be seen with the impressive and decorative silvered-bronze horse tack found in an earlier chapter (122-123), and now housed in the British Museum.
The next two chapters trace daily life for soldiers (and their families) in the Roman army. Chapter VI (“Tent Life”) illuminates life on campaign. Here we not only find a (brief) discussion of how battle was fought (189-195) but also an examination of the daily routine of life on the march: setting up camps and tents (note the remarkably well-preserved goatskin tent panel [183]), managing the baggage train and slaves, fighting disease, injury and illness, burying the dead, and distributing the spoils and triumphal honors of war. Chapter VII (“Fort Life”) examines life in the bases and forts where soldiers, settlers, and their families were stationed when not on active campaign. The discussion of baths, amphitheaters and even individual gameboards (including a dice tower (219) from Vettweiss-Froitzheim, Germany dated to the third or fourth century CE) offers a sense of escape from the rigors of military campaigns. Playfulness and ferociousness are also readily seen in the muscular body and relaxed sit (over on its hip) of a Molossian dog—a fierce guard the Roman camps (227). The reality of the pre-industrial world is also on full display via a discussion of the disposal of human waste perilously close to areas of food preparation (220-228). Finally, and importantly, Abdy presents the clear evidence that women and children formed a regular part of fort life as specifically noted in the survival of shoes (217), or various messages found in the Vindolanda tablets (228-234).
The volume’s final chapter (VIII, “Soldiers in Society”) is meant to trace the “wider activities of soldiers in civilian society” (244). Ultimately the chapter focuses on retirement rewards (pay or citizenship) as commemorated in various military diplomas (249-251), and the rather dark reality of civil-military relations where corrupt soldiers regularly demean and destroy Rome’s citizens and subjects. The final sections of the volume remind readers of the tenuous balance between citizen legionary and foreign auxiliary as well as the consequences of internal war. The discussion throughout is built around luxurious photographs, each with a clear description and, thankfully, information about size and current location in the margin. Readers will have no trouble tracking down these remarkable surviving materials.
Inevitably, a book designed primarily as a companion for a public museum exhibition will not have the space to develop ideas, connections, or debates to fulfill the expectations of a scholarly audience. But any quibbles of fact are duly overcome by Abdy’s scholarly suspicion. He repeatedly emphasizes the multicultural nature of the army (note especially page 28)—which should be no surprise in an empire recruiting from three continents, but it nevertheless bears repeating for those who still see (or desire) a purity and uniformity among the Romans. He recognizes the inclusion of women within the martial world of the Romans. He also emphasizes that we should not “expect a consistent, unvarying appearance in the Roman ranks” (66, 146). Artistic representations, a lack of surviving evidence, and modern imaginations too often conspire to produce a homogenous army when the reality was more likely much different (see 155, 166). Abdy’s legion is not simply the uniformed army marching and Romanizing the world that Trajan’s Column appears to depict. While it is hard to read any book about Rome’s army without some sense of fascination, wonder, and, yes, even admiration, here readers are also treated to the gloomy reality. The volume’s cover image betrays the book’s theme: a first-century CE bronze and iron cavalry helmet from Witcham Gravel, England, lies hauntingly toppled face down on barren ground under a dark and ominous sky. Whatever its successes, the Roman army also brought destruction and sorrow in its wake—even for its own members.
This volume will not likely replace other introductory works on the Roman army,[2] but its high-resolution photographs make it a worthwhile purchase for students and enthusiasts (and even scholars) who wish to be treated to an astounding collection of the material remains of Rome’s powerful and violent history. While specialists may not find anything new, a popular audience will find that the book achieves its promise to “dispel preconceived notions about the Roman army” (as noted on the back cover). Reconstituting the Roman army in the popular imagination is a vital and necessary job, especially in our contemporary times, where so often erroneous material and ideas continue to dominate.
Notes
[1] https://www.britishmuseum.org/exhibitions/legion-life-roman-army . Thanks to a generous grant from the Portland State University History Department and the Friends of History, the reviewer was able to view this excellent exhibition.
[2] Le Bohec, Yann. The Imperial Roman Army. London: B.T. Batsford Ltd., 1994, upon which Abdy frequently relies; Goldsworth, Adrian. The Complete Roman Army. London: Thames & Hudson, 2003; Southern, Pat. The Roman Army: A Social & Institutional History. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.