HomeUncategorizedLegion at the British Museum: the real life of a Roman soldier

Legion at the British Museum: the real life of a Roman soldier

It might lead to you becoming a man held in great esteem, rewarded with wealth, fame and, if you were so inclined, concubines. Alternatively, it could lead to you being dead from battle, botulism or, perhaps worst of all, Britons. The life of a Roman soldier was one of endless possibility and vast scope, and the British Museum is seeking to cover it all in its latest blockbuster exhibition, Legion: Life in the Roman Army.

“We had to go large or go home with this one,” the lead curator, Richard Abdy, says. “We are dealing with 1,000 years of Roman military history.” The exhibition features equipment and ephemera, and tells the life stories of those who served the empire across the furthest reaches of the ancient world. The picture it paints is one of deep class divides, quirky fashion choices and a surprisingly large amount of moss. Here’s what I learnt about legionary life.

You needed friends in high places (and lots of money)

Or so complained Claudius Terentianus, a wannabe Roman soldier of the 2nd century who found that, even when it came to war, it wasn’t what you knew, but who you knew. A legionary needed a strong letter of recommendation, and failure to acquire one would have you rubbing shoulders with a lower class of soldier.

Terentianus left behind a fascinating cache of correspondence that charts his life as a Roman citizen from Egypt who dreamt of joining the elite legions — but just didn’t have the connections.

“He fails initially,” Abdy says. “His letters of recommendation were not good enough.” Instead, Terentianus got references from friends who secured him a berth as a Roman marine, a role he hated. He also became involved in army base squabbles and complained of having his bedding nicked.

He did, eventually, become a legionary, and wrote that “nothing can be done without money or letters of recommendation!” It seems his advancement had cost him dearly.

A dragon standard

A dragon standard

KOBLENZ LANDESMUSEUM

The cavalry galloped behind a whistling dragon

“Legionary” is often used as a catch-all homonym for Roman soldier, painting a uniform picture of shield-bearing combatants marching behind eagle standards. But the army was much more varied; while citizens could join, its full strength was forged through thousands from a lower social rank.

“At least half the army was composed of auxiliary or support regiments,” Abdy explains. “There were about 30 legions under the Empire, 150,000 men, and we’re told that it was the same again in auxiliary forces.”

There were also different roles within the legions, and we still have some of their distinctive regalia. For instance, while the legions marched behind eagles, the cavalry’s standard was a more mythical beast. “It was a dragon’s head, which would have been attached to a windsock,” Abdy says. “It would have made a whistling noise as they galloped past.” The exhibition has the last surviving example of a “draco standard”.

Forget uniform: soldiers wore vintage

There was no such thing as “standard issue” for a Roman soldier. You were expected to shell out for your equipment, although some would have inherited it or been given it by their families. The regimental armoury could also provide, although a secondhand market could be cheaper. The exhibition features pieces of armour that have a series of names scratched into them like school coats that have acquired generations’ worth of name tags.

This also meant there was an opportunity for personal style, and Abdy admits that his book, written to accompany the British Museum show, has been described as “very much about dress accessories”. There were options when it came to armour, and the secondhand market meant there was a trade in retro pieces. The exhibition includes one pre-imperial helmet that resembles a backwards baseball cap since remodelled to make it more modern.

A Roman legionary helmet

A Roman legionary helmet

But mostly, it was all about the belt …

We may associate Roman soldiers with red capes and brush-topped helmets, but these were not their most recognisable emblem. “The Romans regarded military uniform as being the big, showy belt,” Abdy says. “That was the main distinguishing feature.”

As evidence, the show includes the extraordinary remains of a soldier recovered from Herculaneum, the city neighbouring Pompeii, which was also destroyed when Vesuvius erupted in 79AD. The soldier is thought to have been a marine who accompanied Pliny the Elder on a mission to help the fleeing citizens.

“He had a double-sword belt, and virtually nothing else,” Abdy explains. “He didn’t bother to take any armour on his search-and-rescue mission.” His remains are being seen outside Italy for the first time.

… or the shield

The legionary shield marked soldiers out as being from a different class.Its use in the “tortoise” or testudo manoeuvre, in which combatants formed a tight unit with their shields raised above their heads to protect them from arrows, is an enduring image that features in screen battles from Gladiator to Rome.

But only one example survives: a shield owned by Yale University, “one of the absolute stars of the collection”, according to Abdy. “It’s in amazing condition. You’ve got the whole classic legionary shield. Slightly more curled than it would have been, but we can forgive that.”

Yale’s Roman shield

Yale’s Roman shield

YALE UNIVERSITY ART GALLERY

Weaponry and armour were changing by the 3rd century, with more bespoke decoration and adaptation, but Yale’s retro-style shield appears to have survived nonetheless. Abdy suggests it might have been used as “an old spare part”.

Roman forts were as identical as Premier Inns

Forts were constructed in a very similar style across the Empire, so that any soldier transferred from Britain to Syria, for instance, would know their way around their new surroundings. “It was a bit like staying in Premier Inns: you always know where everything is,” Abdy says.

Women were also present in military life here, although only among the upper echelons. The tablets from the Vindolanda fort near Newcastle show communications between the wives of different fort commanders, including an invitation to a birthday party. There is also evidence of dealings with an apothecary since the matriarch looked after the health of her household.

Centurions lived in married quarters within their barracks, but inferior ranks were not officially allowed to wed. There is, however, plenty of evidence that the lower orders did marry and have relationships, although we have little idea how they accommodated their partners. It is possible they were kept in attics, or lived in a township near the fort.

Soldiers in Britannia requested extra pants, with a side of moss

The exhibition stresses the continuity of military culture from one end of the Empire to the other. “One of the extraordinary things about the Roman army is it has such similar features across three continents,” Abdy says. “I think the Roman Empire had a greater variety of climatic zones than any other world empire, apart from the Incas.”

But even the Roman army had to adapt to the variations of climate. At Vindolanda, tablets recorded requests for extra underpants — an approach to winterwear that is quite different from that of today’s Tynesiders.

Another big difference for those serving in Britain was the infections. Conjunctivitis seems to have been a significant cause of soldiers being off sick. Moss might also have played an unexpectedly big role in their lives. There is evidence of its use as lavatory paper, the crest of a helmet and even a wig.