A history of the third century for the unwary

I have been reading Rome in the Third Century by Michael Sage, an emeritus professor of Classics. Reading, but not enjoying. Or agreeing.

I am unsure of Professor Sage’s precise specialism. His “Expert Profile” on the University of Cincinnati website informs us that he is “engaged on a source book on Roman warfare”, but that book appeared seventeen years ago in 2008. (Who knows, maybe there’s another one on the way.)

He holds a PhD, which (I imagine) concerned the third-century St Cyprian, since this was the subject of his first monograph, charmingly produced on a typewriter and published in 1975. Cyprian, bishop of Carthage, was famously martyred in AD 258, during the joint reign of the emperors Valerian and Gallienus. This, I assume, is the basis of the professor’s interest in the third century.

At any rate, Rome in the Third Century seems to have managed to avoid any editing process. Misprints may be due to inaccuracies in my eBook version. But there is much repetition of irrelevant material (irrelevant to the third century, that is) and the narrative is often confusing.

I’ve drawn some examples from the years AD 253–268, having just published my own book on this period.

Valerian and Gallienus

In a single paragraph, we read that “Valerian was in Germany during 256–257”, while “the Goths, along with the Borani, (...) in 254 or 255” raided Asia Minor, and “in 266 the Goths and Borani launched their most devastating raid (and) in 267 they even penetrated into Greece”, while “unlike his father, Gallienus remained in the west dealing with the German tribes”. The to-and-fro timescale here is very confusing.

We then jump back to AD 253 for Shapur’s invasion of Syria, but “by the next year, the Romans had re-established themselves in Antioch” under Valerian (pictured here), while Gallienus “was active on the Danubian front”, but “the quiet was broken by the emergence of a new threat along the Rhine frontier” — this was the emergence of the Franks “in 233 or a little later” and the Alamanni “in 213”. Remember these dates, because we then read that “Gallienus probably moved to the Rhine frontier in response to these developments in late 255 or 256” — so, his response came at least twenty years later? That’s confusing.

Then, “Valerian was with Gallienus at Cologne in 257” (fair enough, we read earlier — see above — that he was in Germany in that year) but “he was soon drawn away to the east” (okay, that ties in — a little confusingly — with the above text about him being in Syria), so “in 257 or 258 he installed his elder son Valerian at Viminacium” on the Danube.

Let’s read that again. The emperor Valerian installed his elder son Valerian at Viminacium? No, Valerian Caesar (pictured here) was Gallienus’ elder son (thus, Valerian’s grandson) about whom nothing is known beyond his name. (That name appears briefly on the coinage during AD 257 and disappears in AD 258.)

Meanwhile, Valerian went to Rome in AD 257 and “(Gallienus’) campaign in Gaul was interrupted by the proclamation of Ingenuus by his troops as emperor” on the Danube, and “it seems likely that Valerian the younger perished in the course of the revolt” (that’s not at all likely, given that we know nothing about Valerian junior), but “Gallienus’ commander Aureolus fought a decisive battle with Ingenuus at Mursa” (it was actually Gallienus himself — pictured here — who fought and won the battle; Aureolus only commanded the cavalry).

Nevertheless, “the failed rebellion was followed by another in 259” by Regalianus “governor of Illyricum” (note that there was no Roman province of Illyricum) who died under mysterious circumstances: “some claim that he was killed in battle against the Roxolani, while others state that he was assassinated by his own troops” (in fact, the Augustan History — the only source to mention it — claims both when it records that “he was killed at the instigation of the Roxolani and with the consent of the soldiers and the provincials”).

In the meantime, Gallienus’ absence from the Rhine prompted “multiple attacks along the frontier”, which were only finally “stopped by a governor of Raetia” (for this fascinating episode, passed over in half-a-dozen words here, see pages 56–59 of my book), but in the process, Gallienus’ younger son Saloninus (pictured here) was murdered by Postumus, the governor of Lower Germany, who promptly set up his breakaway Gallic Empire. “Finally, in early summer 260, Gallienus was able to extricate himself from the Danube frontier”, in order to defeat another band of Alamanni at Milan (actually probably the same Alamanni as were mentioned earlier).

East and West

“Meanwhile, during the spring of 258 Valerian returned to the east by way of Illyricum where the situation had become close to disastrous”. Professor Sage’s narrative has become so convoluted that we must take a moment (a) to remember where on earth Valerian had been (both emperors had perhaps spent AD 257 on the Danube front), and (b) to consider why Illyricum was a disaster zone (this must be harking back to Ingenuus’ revolt). When Valerian arrived in the east, “the campaign was abandoned before it could begin” because “the army was infected by the plague”, causing the “further weakening of an army that had already seen combat in Illyricum”. But wait. If this is just AD 258, whom had they been fighting in Illyricum?

In fact, Professor Sage’s chronology is extremely speculative. I, for one, do not agree with his version of events involving Ingenuus, Regalianus, and Postumus. At any rate, he proceeds to recount Valerian’s defeat and capture in 260, followed by the revolt of Macrianus and its defeat by Aureolus (“the general who had earlier defeated Ingenuus”), and the transfer of control in the east to “Odenathus (who) now launched two attacks on the Persians, the first in 262–3 and the second in 267”.

We are then swept back in time again: “there were invasions by the Goths in 262, 266 and the most serious in 267/8”. Then “Gallienus launched an attack against Postumus in 261, but it failed”. His tenth anniversary celebration in AD 262 “must have been a happy occasion as he had finally established general peace in the provinces that he controlled”. But wait. Didn’t we just read that the Goths were invading?

By this stage in the narrative, it only remains to document the revolt of “Marcus Aelius Aureolus”, a novel concoction of names for the man whom history knows only as “Aureolus” (as I explain in my book, he is often mistakenly named Manius Acilius Aureolus, for historic reasons dating back to the seventeenth century), and the murder of Gallienus, who — we are told — “had remained on the throne for eighteen years”. But there were only fifteen years from his father’s accession in September AD 253 until his own death in autumn AD 268.

Military reforms?

Inevitably, we read that “Gallienus introduced or developed a number of reforms that were vital to the empire’s survival”, and that “his reforms were primarily directed towards creating a more powerful military and a more effective administration to support it”. Unfortunately, this common belief has no basis in fact (as I argue in my book).

“The most striking change was the growing importance of cavalry”. This is a curious claim. How does Professor Sage define “importance”? I have shown in my book that there was no increase in cavalry numbers, and there is no sign of cavalry-only task forces being employed.

Bizarrely, he cites a statement made by Brian Campbell in 2005: “A further development was the creation of milliary units, which consisted of between 800 and 1,000 men”. But this development occurred in the later first century, a hundred and fifty years before Gallienus. And, as far as cavalry was concerned, when the ala II Septimia Syrorum miliaria appeared under Septimius Severus in north Africa, that took the total of “double-strength” squadrons to nine, distributed all around the frontiers. Yes, nine.

Professor Sage adds that “there was also some innovation in cavalry equipment beginning under the Emperor Hadrian who introduced mailed cavalry”. (But what were they wearing before this time, if not mail? In fact, he seems to have misunderstood the significance of the term catafracta — “fully armoured” — in the name of the ala Gallorum et Pannoniorum catafracta, a squadron whose earliest appearance is during the reign of Hadrian.)

“These changes”, he writes — the gradual creation of a handful of double-strength cavalry squadrons and a single fully-armoured squadron — “culminated in the third century (when) the key development was of a large, independent cavalry army in the reign of Gallienus”. So this is the basis of the “number of vital reforms” that he alleges.

His only doubt is whether Gallienus deliberately created the cavalry army, or whether “it simply emerged from existing trends” (what existing trends?). He decides that “it was probably the result of both factors”. So it was deliberate ... and also not deliberate. And if this level of argumentation is not astounding enough, the professor goes on to claim that “it was the beginning of a major change in the way Rome used its armies. It led to the separation of the army into two types of forces, a field army and a border or frontier army”. Oh, dear.

Recommended?

Professor Sage doesn’t provide an epilogue, a summing up, or any kind of final thoughts. The book simply seems to peter out. There is quite a bit of padding, as he takes each subject back to the days of the Roman Republic. For example, “the Roman army had developed from a militia that was raised for individual campaigns and commanded by senators who were not military specialists”. This extreme level of scene-setting is unnecessary in a book purporting to be about the third century.

The frequency of vague claims also generates an uncomfortable feeling that the reader is not in safe hands. “The army has been criticized by some scholars for lacking in innovation before the third century” (unfortunately, none of these scholars is named) “but there were some adjustments in tactics and weaponry”. He cites Arrian’s Ektaxis (sending the reader in search of a 1979 paper on “The legion as phalanx”, which is not the surest guide to this work) as proof that “the auxilia with its diverse arm and equipment was a weapon of increasing importance”. I find this conclusion baffling. But he also likens the Roman army to a wall, “but in the course of the third century this wall had to be rebuilt”.

Well, if we’re relying on the existence of a fully-armoured Hadrianic cavalry squadron and Gallienus’ imaginary mobile cavalry army, I’m afraid it will need to remain unbuilt. Verdict: not recommended.