The Reach of Rome: A Journey Through the Lands of the Ancient Empire, Following a Coin by Alberto Angela

Author:Alberto Angela [Angela, Alberto]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
ISBN: 9780847841417
Publisher: Rizzoli
Published: 2013-10-15T04:00:00+00:00

The Praetorian

The next morning, Marcus enters a shop; he needs a new tunic and is trying some on for size. They look like so many T-shirts that go down to his knees. They are produced in a series of workshops where workers and slaves are employed—somewhere between the shop of a real craftsman and a semi-industrial factory. Marcus tries several of them with the help of the shop owner, always willing to adjust the fabric where it bulges. He chooses a simple one, without colored strips or decorations, similar to the clothes worn by most of the inhabitants of Rome. It’s made of raw flax and when he pulls it over his head he can feel it scratching his skin. It will take a while for it to soften. He pays 15 sesterces for it (about $40) and leaves, heading down the street illuminated by a beam of morning sun. Our sestertius has changed hands again. Now it’s deep in the darkness of the shop’s cash box, mixed in with a lot of other coins, each with its own history, each with a lot of stories and curiosities to be told that nobody will ever know.

It’s not long, however, before our sestertius is back on its journey, thanks to another customer who has come to purchase some subligaria, Roman underwear that look like soft loincloths that loop around the waist and pass between the legs.

The next morning, the sestertius is in the hand of its new owner, who is turning it nervously. The man’s name is Caius Proculeius Rufus. His family hails from Spain, from Asturica Augusta (present-day Astorga), to be exact. Having finished a training period, he is about to start his new job. He’s dressed like a soldier, but he is not a legionnaire who will be sent to defend the far-flung corners of the empire. On the contrary, he is part of the corps that must defend its heart. He is a praetorian. And today is his first day of service in the emperor’s palace, on the Palatine.

The praetorians are not universally loved, and certainly not by their comrades-in-arms the legionnaires, who guard the frontiers. The reason is simple. They do not serve in some forgotten backwater of the empire, but in the world’s liveliest and most entertaining city, Rome. They do not risk getting killed every day by some raving barbarian. They don’t suffer the cold, in a foreign land, far from home. Yet their salaries are higher than those of the legionnaires (who receive barely 100 sesterces per month, around $225). Their period of service is shorter (sixteen years rather than twenty-five), they get greater benefits on leaving the service, have more opportunities for promotion, and if a new emperor comes to power (and has to ingratiate himself with this “elite personal guard”) they receive attractive cash bonuses. There is plenty of reason for their battle-scarred colleagues to look upon the praetorians with disdain and jealousy, if not downright hatred. And the same goes for the populace, which does not love them, even if they respect them for their power.

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