Post by iagosan on Feb 1, 2024 17:23:01 GMT
The grim life of a Roman legionary
Harry Mount
The Spectator
03 February 2024
“Over the heather the wet wind blows,
I’ve lice in my tunic and a cold in my nose.
The rain comes pattering out of the sky,
I’m a Wall soldier, I don’t know why.
The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,
My girl’s in Tungria; I sleep alone.”
W.H. Auden was right. Life for a Roman legionary on Hadrian’s Wall was bloody miserable. The Vindolanda letters sent to and from legionaries living near the wall – on show in a new British Museum exhibition – chime with Auden’s lines in ‘Roman Wall Blues’.
The Romans hated the English weather. In one letter found at Vindolanda fort, near Hexham, Northumberland, a legionary hears about some prized woollen underpants. The letter, from Gaul to the freezing legionary, tells him about the care package he’s getting: ‘Paria udonum ab Sattua solearum duo et subligariorum duo’ – socks, two pairs of sandals and two pairs of underpants.
Other objects in the British Museum show confirm the Romans’ grim intention in Britannia: conquest and control. You’ll see a sword from Pevensey; greaves and a scutum (shield) from Hadrian’s Wall; and a scabbard, tent peg and goatskin tent from Vindolanda. Most beautiful is the Crosby Garrett helmet from Cumbria; the Phrygiancap style with an attached griffin is associated with Asia Minor – showing how far-flung the legionaries’ influences were. The fort at Ribchester, Lancashire, housed troopers from Sarmatia (now southern Russia) – former enemies turned employees of Rome.
With all this fighting life in the frozen north, it’s no wonder that, of the 40,000 troops the Emperor Claudius brought to Britannia in 43 ad, only half lived to retirement age.
Still, though, there were moments of calm – and affection – in the storm. In the exhibition, there’s a 2nd-century tombstone from Chester, showing a loving couple, Aurelius Nepos, a centurion of Legio XX, and his wife. The inscription says he died at 50 and that his ‘devoted wife’ set up the stone.
The Romans did at least have time to pamper themselves here. The exhibition includes a nifty device that combines tweezers, an ear scoop and nail-cleaners. From Vindolanda, there comes a handy louse comb.
Romans were punctilious about hygiene. At Bearsden, Glasgow, on the Antonine Wall, legionaries sat on a communal loo for nine people – ‘a multi-sitter’. Afterwards, they cleaned themselves with sponges on sticks, sanitised in a bucket of diluted vinegar. The Bearsden diet was healthier than the modern Glaswegian one: barley, wheat (possibly for pasta), beans, figs, hazelnuts, raspberries, brambles, strawberries, dill, coriander, celery and radishes. At the Caerleon fort in Wales, archaeologists found amphorae for fine wine. The Romans didn’t care for the local Pictish food: roe-deer and venison, along with callum and cervesa – pork scratchings and beer. Nothing changes.
The legionaries’ baths were pretty grand, and there were even lockers at Chesters Fort on Hadrian’s Wall. At Vindolanda, clogs have been dug up, with thick wooden soles to protect legionaries from scalding their feet on the baths’ underfloor heating. Roman women and children used the baths: hairpins and milk teeth have been found in the drains.
There was time for games, too. At Vindolanda, they discovered a board and pieces for playing ludus latrunculorum – a kind of draughts. And there were luxury goods. A Vindolanda shopping list includes scarlet, green and purple curtains, necklaces and headbands.
Like modern Italians, Romans were obsessed with their health. A Vindolanda tablet reveals a discussion about different medicines between Lepidina, wife of Flavius Cerialis, Prefect of the Ninth Cohort of Batavians, and a lower-status woman, Paterna. Roman medicine was pretty good: they could even treat disembowelling, as long as the intestines were intact.
At Biggleswade, archaeologists found an optician’s prescription for eye drops and poppy salve for dim eyesight. The Romans brought doctors with them. At Hadrian’s Wall, there is a 2nd-century tombstone of Anicius Ingenuus, medicus ordinarius, a doctor of the 1st cohort of Tungrians.
Tungria, which Auden refers to in his poem, was the Belgic part of Gaul.
Gladiators didn’t have such good medical attention. Among the 80 skeletons buried in York’s gladiator cemetery, there’s one with a large bite mark, courtesy of a bear, tiger or lion. Some had sword injuries, healed and unhealed. Others had hammer blows to the head. Many had been decapitated.
But still, a thin, humane thread ran through Roman life. In a Vindolanda letter, also in the British Museum exhibition, Claudia Severa wrote to her sister Lepidina, the commander’s wife. Claudia’s writing is the earliest in British history known to be by a woman. She writes: ‘Oh how much I want you at my birthday party. You’ll make the day so much more fun. I do so hope you can make it.’ She signs off, ‘Vale soror anima mea carissima’ – ‘Goodbye, sister, my dearest soul.’
Harry Mount’s Et Tu, Brute? The Best Latin Lines Ever is out now. Legion: Life in the Roman Army is at the British Museum until 23 June.
www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-grim-life-of-a-roman-legionary/
or
archive.is/yvDxI
Harry Mount
The Spectator
03 February 2024
“Over the heather the wet wind blows,
I’ve lice in my tunic and a cold in my nose.
The rain comes pattering out of the sky,
I’m a Wall soldier, I don’t know why.
The mist creeps over the hard grey stone,
My girl’s in Tungria; I sleep alone.”
W.H. Auden was right. Life for a Roman legionary on Hadrian’s Wall was bloody miserable. The Vindolanda letters sent to and from legionaries living near the wall – on show in a new British Museum exhibition – chime with Auden’s lines in ‘Roman Wall Blues’.
The Romans hated the English weather. In one letter found at Vindolanda fort, near Hexham, Northumberland, a legionary hears about some prized woollen underpants. The letter, from Gaul to the freezing legionary, tells him about the care package he’s getting: ‘Paria udonum ab Sattua solearum duo et subligariorum duo’ – socks, two pairs of sandals and two pairs of underpants.
Other objects in the British Museum show confirm the Romans’ grim intention in Britannia: conquest and control. You’ll see a sword from Pevensey; greaves and a scutum (shield) from Hadrian’s Wall; and a scabbard, tent peg and goatskin tent from Vindolanda. Most beautiful is the Crosby Garrett helmet from Cumbria; the Phrygiancap style with an attached griffin is associated with Asia Minor – showing how far-flung the legionaries’ influences were. The fort at Ribchester, Lancashire, housed troopers from Sarmatia (now southern Russia) – former enemies turned employees of Rome.
With all this fighting life in the frozen north, it’s no wonder that, of the 40,000 troops the Emperor Claudius brought to Britannia in 43 ad, only half lived to retirement age.
Still, though, there were moments of calm – and affection – in the storm. In the exhibition, there’s a 2nd-century tombstone from Chester, showing a loving couple, Aurelius Nepos, a centurion of Legio XX, and his wife. The inscription says he died at 50 and that his ‘devoted wife’ set up the stone.
The Romans did at least have time to pamper themselves here. The exhibition includes a nifty device that combines tweezers, an ear scoop and nail-cleaners. From Vindolanda, there comes a handy louse comb.
Romans were punctilious about hygiene. At Bearsden, Glasgow, on the Antonine Wall, legionaries sat on a communal loo for nine people – ‘a multi-sitter’. Afterwards, they cleaned themselves with sponges on sticks, sanitised in a bucket of diluted vinegar. The Bearsden diet was healthier than the modern Glaswegian one: barley, wheat (possibly for pasta), beans, figs, hazelnuts, raspberries, brambles, strawberries, dill, coriander, celery and radishes. At the Caerleon fort in Wales, archaeologists found amphorae for fine wine. The Romans didn’t care for the local Pictish food: roe-deer and venison, along with callum and cervesa – pork scratchings and beer. Nothing changes.
The legionaries’ baths were pretty grand, and there were even lockers at Chesters Fort on Hadrian’s Wall. At Vindolanda, clogs have been dug up, with thick wooden soles to protect legionaries from scalding their feet on the baths’ underfloor heating. Roman women and children used the baths: hairpins and milk teeth have been found in the drains.
There was time for games, too. At Vindolanda, they discovered a board and pieces for playing ludus latrunculorum – a kind of draughts. And there were luxury goods. A Vindolanda shopping list includes scarlet, green and purple curtains, necklaces and headbands.
Like modern Italians, Romans were obsessed with their health. A Vindolanda tablet reveals a discussion about different medicines between Lepidina, wife of Flavius Cerialis, Prefect of the Ninth Cohort of Batavians, and a lower-status woman, Paterna. Roman medicine was pretty good: they could even treat disembowelling, as long as the intestines were intact.
At Biggleswade, archaeologists found an optician’s prescription for eye drops and poppy salve for dim eyesight. The Romans brought doctors with them. At Hadrian’s Wall, there is a 2nd-century tombstone of Anicius Ingenuus, medicus ordinarius, a doctor of the 1st cohort of Tungrians.
Tungria, which Auden refers to in his poem, was the Belgic part of Gaul.
Gladiators didn’t have such good medical attention. Among the 80 skeletons buried in York’s gladiator cemetery, there’s one with a large bite mark, courtesy of a bear, tiger or lion. Some had sword injuries, healed and unhealed. Others had hammer blows to the head. Many had been decapitated.
But still, a thin, humane thread ran through Roman life. In a Vindolanda letter, also in the British Museum exhibition, Claudia Severa wrote to her sister Lepidina, the commander’s wife. Claudia’s writing is the earliest in British history known to be by a woman. She writes: ‘Oh how much I want you at my birthday party. You’ll make the day so much more fun. I do so hope you can make it.’ She signs off, ‘Vale soror anima mea carissima’ – ‘Goodbye, sister, my dearest soul.’
Harry Mount’s Et Tu, Brute? The Best Latin Lines Ever is out now. Legion: Life in the Roman Army is at the British Museum until 23 June.
www.spectator.co.uk/article/the-grim-life-of-a-roman-legionary/
or
archive.is/yvDxI
