Dacia recovers from the crisis that had defined Marcus Aurelius’ reign and becomes more urban than ever before. At the same time, the province strengthens its defenses, and its soldiers grow more attached to the local communities they defend.

Here is a look at Dacia in 198 CE after emperor Septimius Severus elevated several settlements to the status of city and expanded the borders of the province by pushing the Olt frontier to the east. The map differentiates between cities (municipium), which were urban centres with a certain degree of autonomy, and colonies (colonia), which were cities of the highest status that enjoyed the privileges of Italian law.

Transcript

Hello and welcome to A history of Romania.

Season 1, Episode 13: Iron swords for marble cities

In the previous chapter of our story, the empire was faced with its biggest crisis in centuries. Plague decimated the population and barbarians attacked the frontiers from the Black Sea to the Rhine River, even invading Greece and Italy. After almost two decades of brutal fighting, emperor Marcus Aurelius succeeded in vanquishing the offending tribes in 180 CE. He died before he could enjoy the peace he had fought so hard to achieve, but he managed to gift his son Commodus an empire that was, at last, safe.

Those years of crisis had changed Roman society. For one thing, the army was forced to adapt as its ranks were being ravaged by smallpox. To fulfill the immediate need for soldiers, Marcus Aurelius allowed gladiators and even enslaved men to join the army. And to ensure long-term recruitment, he enacted structural change to allow auxiliary units to draw from the local population. Before, men recruited in one province were sent to serve in another in order to sever their ties with their native communities and make them loyal to the empire as a whole. But in a context in which provinces were being overrun and every soldier made a difference, it made no sense to shuffle units around the empire; whatever forces could be raised locally should be used immediately to defend their communities.

This change not only allowed the empire to respond to threats more quickly, but it also made its auxiliary troops more attached to their provinces. Local loyalties may have been considered a risk a century ago, but by the late 2^nd century, they were seen as a plus. The province of Dacia is actually the perfect example to explain this shift in mentality; being the last province added to the empire, we may think that the Romans were still worried about revolts, but if we explore a bit deeper, we’ll see that wasn’t the case.

When the province was first constituted during the reign of Trajan, it made sense to be cautious about arming the native Dacian population. Roman rule was fresh and resentments remained, so the Dacian men who enrolled in auxiliary units were sent to other provinces so as not to act as focal points of armed resistance. A few returned to their homeland after their term of service, but they were a small minority, and even those that did come back were thoroughly Romanized.

But a lot had happened since Trajan. As we’ve discussed, Hadrian had encouraged the Dacian inhabitants of the empire to integrate public life, and Antoninus Pius continued his policies. By the time of Marcus Aurelius, the native Dacian population no longer identified with the former Dacian kingdom, nor with their Dacian kin beyond the borders; they had become increasingly entwined with the fabric of the empire and were forming their own distinct identity as part of the Roman world.

When the Dacian Costoboci breached the frontiers in 167 CE, the Dacian inhabitants of the empire probably didn’t see them as liberators come to save them from Roman oppression, but as barbarians threatening their livelihoods. The Costoboci had attacked the province mainly because the Romans had refused to give them land inside of it. In contrast, the Dacian imperial subjects already had land in the province and so would have nothing to gain from supporting the Costoboci. In fact, by helping them, they would only risk their position, as the Romans would surely punish traitors.

Plus, as we’ve seen, the Costoboci were but one of several barbarian tribes attacking the province; they ravaged the countryside alongside the Iazyges, the Roxolani, and the Hasdingi. The war wasn’t about one ethnic group fighting another, but about the empire fighting the barbarian world. As is often the case, identity is defined as much by what you are as by what you are not. The Dacians living inside the empire would’ve seen their farms pillaged, their belongings stolen, and their loved ones killed by tribes from beyond the borders. They could choose to hide and wait for the war to end, or they could fight back to protect the society in which they lived and reject the forces which threatened it.

Of course, if the Dacians living in the province were likely to rally around the authorities, their peregrini neighbours were even more likely to do so. Coming from all over the empire, these communities had even less of a connection to these barbarians than their Dacian compatriots did, and so would’ve seen the invasion as an existential threat to the established order. And so, the wars that defined Marcus Aurelius’ reign were a pivotal point for the population of Dacia. The barbarian invasions had shaken the province to its core, and its inhabitants had become more attached to the empire as they fought to defend their lives, their belongings, and their sense of self.

The province of Dacia began to recover in the 180s CE under the reign of Commodus as the frontiers remained quiet and the effects of smallpox lessened. As you’ll recall, the three smaller provinces had been unified into one; the former divisions still served as financial districts for the purposes of tax collection, but everything else was handled by an overarching governor: he dispensed justice, extended infrastructure, and led the armed forced. Indeed, his main task was the defense of the province, as the focus of the Roman government had shifted from supervising growth to protecting what it had; after the crisis it had been through, the empire had moved half of its legions – 16 out of 30 – along the Rhine and Danube frontiers to prevent another surprise.

As long as Dacia was paying its taxes and the border was safe, emperors generally gave substantial autonomy to governors to run things as they saw fit. However, the current emperor was involved so little that he seemed actually disinterested in governing at all. Rumours trickled into Dacia that Commodus scorned his father’s stoic philosophies and manners, and delegated most of the work to his chamberlain. Meanwhile, the young emperor – only in his twenties at this time – focused on lavish gladiatorial fights – and even took part in them. Commodus took great pride in his feats of arms and physical prowess, but this conduct was unheard of; instead of leading armies against Rome’s enemies, the emperor fought prearranged battles in the Colosseum. And his behaviour only got more bizarre as time went on.

Statues were erected in Dacia showing Commodus dressed as the demigod Hercules, and inscriptions declared him Dominus Noster, meaning “Our Lord”. In 191, he changed his name from Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus, which is what it had been all his life, to Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus Augustus Herculeus Romanus Exsuperatorius Amazonius Invictus Felix Pius – and he renamed each month after one of his twelve names. The following year, after a fire destroyed parts of Rome, he rebuilt them and, with the occasion, renamed the city after himself to Colonia Lucia Annia Commodiana. Then, the Senate was renamed to the Fortunate Commodian Senate; the legions to Commodianae; and the Roman people as a whole to Commodianus.

Everything in the empire had to gravitate around Commodus, and stories travelled from person to person that the emperor killed those who disagreed with him. The imperial city seemed to be getting more paranoid and erratic by the day. And then, suddenly, in January 193 CE, news arrived that Commodus was dead, that the Senate had declared him a public enemy, that the changes he had brought were to be undone, and that the statues of him were to be destroyed.

The intrigues at the heart of the empire had led to his murder, and the Roman world now had a new emperor, Pertinax. This man had actually led troops in Dacia during Marcus Aurelius’ reign, and tried to emulate that emperor’s austere ruling style. Three months into his reign, as the authorities in Dacia were finishing the restoration of the calendar and removing the last statues of Commodus, dispatches came from the imperial city that Pertinax had been murdered.

The Praetorian Guard had grown tired of his attempts to discipline them; they’d killed him and then offered the office of emperor to the man who would pay them the most, which turned out to be a noble called Didius Julianus. The news outraged the Roman world, and three generals immediately announced that they refused to accept the decision and declared themselves emperor. One general was Clodius Albinus in Britannia, another was Septimius Severus in Pannonia, and the other was Percennius Niger in Syria.

The two legions stationed in Dacia proclaimed their support for Septimius Severus, and they were joined by several other nearby legions. The general population didn’t have a say in the matter; the Roman empire had voters, and they were its soldiers.

Septimius Severus quickly mustered his troops and marched on Rome where he deposed and killed Julianus. He was then declared emperor by the Senate and turned his attention to his rival generals. Over the next four years, Septimius Severus took his legions to defeat first Percennius Niger and then Clodius Albinus; by 197 CE, he was sole emperor, and his command over the Roman world was unchallenged.

Thankfully, no battles had been fought in Dacia, and the tribes on its frontiers remained quiet as they were still recovering from the previous wars, so the province didn’t suffer from the civil war. In fact, it was going to benefit from it. Dacia had been somewhat neglected by the last few emperors. Antoninus Pius had never left Italy during his reign and allowed the governors to direct affairs autonomously; Marcus Aurelius had reorganized the region into one province and gave it an additional legion, but he was too busy with military campaigns to see to its development; and Commodus was simply disinterested in running the empire. So, for the past half century, the province of Dacia enjoyed a large degree of autonomy – but also didn’t receive any special investments from the central authorities.

That was about to change. The Dacian legions had been one of the first to acclaim Septimius Severus as emperor, and they had participated in various battles during the civil war, so he was disposed to reward them and their home province. In 198 CE, he elevated six settlements to the status of city, bringing the total number of cities in Dacia to eleven.

I’ve drawn a map of the province under the reign of Septimius Severus which you can find in this episode’s description. It shows the location of its urban centres as well as its borders, which changed slightly, as we’ll soon see. For now though, let’s talk about the Dacian cities – not all eleven of them, only the three which are most relevant to our story.

The largest and richest urban centre between the Danube and the Carpathians was that of Romula. The settlement had been founded by veterans and peregrini after the conquest next to a former Dacian dava. By the end of the 2^nd century, Romula was more commonly known as Malva, which was the name of that former Dacian settlement nearby. The name was so widespread that the financial district of southern Dacia was officially called Dacia Malvensis. The fact that the Dacian name not only survived but took over from the Roman one suggests that there were many Dacians who had continued to live in the area after the conquest and passed the name onto their descendants, who used it in daily interactions with the Romans, who in the end adopted it as well. Malva was not only the economic centre of southern Dacia, but was also a strongpoint that provided troops to the eastern frontier located on the Olt River.

            Moving into the Carpathian Mountains, we find the first Roman city north of the Danube, Ulpia Traiana Sarmizegetusa, which I’ll just call Sarmizegetusa from now on. The city had acted as an administrative, political, cultural, and religious centre ever since the conquest. After the unification of the Dacian provinces, the governor moved to the city of Apulum, which we’ll discuss in a second, but Sarmizegetusa maintained most of the province’s institutions. For instance, all tax revenue was funnelled here and then distributed to the administration and army or sent to the imperial city. The provincial council was held here too. Each year, every settlement in Dacia – from remote towns to prosperous cities – sent representatives to Sarmizegetusa to discuss provincial issues. This group, called the Council of the Three Dacias, was presided by the chief priest of the imperial cult. The council had the right to send grievances to the emperor about provincial administrators or even the governor, but, in reality, it had little power; its main task was to assemble all the important men of the province to network between each other, pay homage to the imperial family, and gain various titles and honours for their public service.

In fact, wealthy citizens competed with each other to spend money for the benefit of the public; they built temples, erected monuments, dedicated altars to deities and emperors, paved roads, and decorated public spaces. For instance, one Varenius Pudens was an officer in an auxiliary cohort and an imperial priest in the city; he spent 50,000 sesterces to pave half of Sarmizegetusa’s forum. This was a huge sum, the equivalent of 83 years of pay for a soldier in the auxiliary cohort he commanded. But the display of wealth was the point, as Varenius was able to show how magnanimous he was – and, as the forum was being paved, he also included an inscription honouring his father, thus fulfilling his role as a pious son.

As I’ve hinted, Sarmizegetusa lost some of its importance after the unification of the province. That’s because the governor set up his headquarters just to the north in the settlement of Apulum, where the legion XIII Gemina had been stationed since the conquest. The castra of this unit lay at the intersection of several imperial roads, which ensured that the governor could quickly respond to threats in all directions. But beyond the military element, Apulum was surrounded by fertile agricultural land, was near a river which facilitated commerce, and was close to Dacia’s booming goldmines. The richness of the land and the strategic position of the city contributed to Apulum’s prosperity, and by the end of the 2^nd century, it had surpassed Sarmizegetusa in size and wealth, and it became the most important city in Dacia. The city was so large, in fact, that it was impossible to encircle with a wall, so instead, it had two castra at each end to protect it.

Every cult and religion practiced in Dacia was present in Apulum. Aesculapius and Hygea, two deities of health, were particularly popular, with 23 altars to their name. Their main temple was a pilgrimage destination for many who were ill; besides the healing power of these divinities, people also sought out the doctors working there, who had medical elixirs and surgical instruments at their disposal. One veteran named Claudius Iulius Frontonianus had lost his sight and went to the temple, where doctors successfully treated him; upon being cured, he left an inscription in thanks. What’s cool is that one of doctors working at the temple, Titus Attius Divixtus, wrote a recipe for a treatment to restore eyesight, and we have a record of it, so it’s probable that his concoction was used to cure Claudius.

Some Dacian cities were granted to status of colony, which was the highest level a settlement could attain. A colony operated under Ius Italicum, or Italian law, which meant that the land within its boundaries was considered Italian soil, and it was as if its inhabitants lived on the Italian peninsula. In these cities, people were subject to Roman law, rather than the one that might’ve carried over from local customs; they were able to buy and sell property rather than just lease it from the state; and they were exempt from certain taxes. Trajan had given this honour to Sarmizegetusa when he had founded it, and now Septimius Severus granted it to Drobeta, Malva, Apulum, Napoca, and Potaissa. Accordingly, Dacia was a particularly urban province, especially when compared with neighbouring ones. At this point at the beginning of the 3^rd century, Moesia and Pannonia had three colonies put together, whereas Dacia had six.

The fact that Septimius Severus elevated so many settlements to the status of city, and several others to that of colony, reflects the recovery and growth that Dacia had experienced since Marcus Aurelius’ reign. The emperor couldn’t have raised the status of these settlements if they weren’t already thriving. And, by elevating them, he ensured their continued growth and fostered further Romanization.

Dacia’s cities had all the staples of Roman cultural life: forums, amphitheatres, public baths, aqueducts, fountains, gladiatorial shows, traditional festivities, and imperial celebrations, and people from across the province were attracted by the opportunities they offered.

If you were rich, this was the place to be. Cities were administered by municipal councils elected every year, but these assemblies weren’t representative of the population; in reality, the candidates were drawn from the powerful landowners which made up the unofficial aristocracy of the province. These men turned their money into power by getting elected, and they then made sure to pass their magistracies to their sons to keep the influence they had acquired within the family.

If you were an artisan or trader, the city provided many more customers than you’d find in a town or village. And if you were poor and had run out of options elsewhere, you could find work on a construction site, in a workshop, or in a household. Native Dacians, too, came to the cities. In Apulum, for instance, most of the graves in its cemeteries followed Roman burial rites, but there were also some graves that held incinerated remains, which is a distinct Dacian custom. Meanwhile, in Drobeta, we find inscriptions with Dacian names like Daciscus, Melgidianus, and Apulensis.

As such, a generation after the end of the wars and the plague that had defined Marcus Aurelius’ reign, Dacia’s population was once again thriving, and was more urban than ever before. The people in the cities were in constant contact with Roman ways of life, and that cultural influence radiated outwards to towns and villages in a slow but continuous manner.

The Romanization of the population was also accelerated by the structural changes that had taken place in the army. Now that auxiliary soldiers were recruited locally, the majority remained in Dacia after gaining their citizenship, since they had built their lives here over the course of their service. On top of that, Septimius Severus allowed legionaries to marry local women while still serving in the army, and to live with their families outside of their military camp while cultivating land. Both of these decisions bound the soldiers of the empire more closely to the regional communities they defended.

One of Septimius Severus’ main focuses was the protection of the empire, so he ordered the governor of Dacia to upgrade the defenses of his province. During his reign, earthen forts were torn down and rebuilt in stone, walls were extended, ditches dug, and stone towers built on the borders to supervise the barbarians and allow rapid communication between forts.

The emperor also expanded the bounds of Dacia in the south. The Olt River that runs from the Carpathians to the Danube had served as a frontier ever since Hadrian’s time. As we’ve seen, the area to the East of the Olt was closely supervised by the Romans, who sent patrols and exerted indirect influence over the barbarian communities living there. This status quo had held for decades, but gradually, colonists had begun to settle on the east bank of the river, and so Septimius Severus decided to adjust the frontier to properly defend these settlements. The border of Dacia was thus pushed 15 kilometres to the east of the Olt River into the land of the free Dacians and Roxolani, who didn’t offer resistance against the advancing legions. The empire built a new defensive line consisting of an earthen wall 235 kilometres long reinforced with 14 forts, strengthening its grip on the region.

Several inscriptions relating to Septimius Severus refer to him as Dominus Noster, a title that had been pioneered by Commodus, but which was now happily taken up by the current emperor; and, in fact, styling himself as a lord accurately reflected his style of government.

Septimius Severus had been born in 145 CE and began his public career in the 160s when plague and war were ravaging the empire. He had experienced first-hand the importance of the army to the survival of the empire, and when he came to the throne in 193 CE, he had done so through the power of the Rhine and Danube legions. In his mind, the army was the pillar that held the Roman world together, so he didn’t make too many efforts to collaborate amicably with the Senate; instead, he focused on the soldiers.

Over several years, the emperor increased army pay, improved service conditions, added three new legions, and improved fortifications – and the soldiers loved him for it. He was not the lord of the Roman empire because he was the reincarnation of Hercules, as Commodus had claimed; he was the lord of the Roman empire because he led its armies and kept its people safe.

To pay for these reforms, the treasury had to give a larger share of its revenue to the military, and the emperor even had to debase the currency. The civilian population of course had no say in how their taxes were being used; and though people noticed that their coins didn’t buy as many goods as they used to, they also saw that Dacia was safer and better defended than ever. With some people still alive to remember barbarians overrunning the province, many were probably fine with the trade-off and saw it as a necessity. Compromises are often made in the name of security.

And that is how we will leave Dacia today: as an urban and militarized province. Next time, we’ll pick up the story at the beginning of the 3^rd century as Dacia crystallizes its Roman identity and flourishes like never before. And as its prosperity radiates outwards, the peoples beyond the frontier will wonder if they too could have a share of the empire’s seemingly endless wealth.