Consistere contra adversa fata: Pertinax and the Praetorians 2.0

Long ago, I read about the year of the 5 Emperors, and was intrigued by the preliminary Emperor, Pertinax, a man who had had a long successful military career, and seemed to have his head in the right place, increasing silver content in the currency, and planning agricultural reform. However, he ruled for three months before he was hacked to death in the palace. I embarked upon a timeline, with the grand intent of writing a different "Fall of Rome."

It has been fourteen months since that last update to Pertinax and the Praetorians, and most readers have given it up for dead. Yet the work has been been mulling around in my head since then, and consequently, I present to you the reboot of the timeline.

I am going from the reign of Pertinax, who, after some of the Praetorians revolted (in a sense of the word) and went to his palace to “have a little chat with him” was cut to bits, because he went and had a little chat with them, rather than use force. For this timeline, Pertinax shall send for the Equites Singulares Augusti, the faithful bodyguards of the Emperor (and the cavalry counterpart to the Praetorians,) to go and chop the revolting Praetorians into little bits for their perfidy.

I hope you enjoy.

Notes:
I will be using OTL dates (November, AD, etc.) rather than Roman, because it just gets wacky after a while. Actual content will be in Times New Roman. Author's Notes, Prefaces, etc. will be in standard font.

Nisi impunitatis cupido retinuisset, magnis semper conatibus adversa
--Gaius Cornelius Tacitus

Consistere contra adversa fata:
A Rome Timeline
Chapter 1:

The plot to overthrow Marcus Aurelius Commodus Antoninus Augustus, Imperator Romani was a daring enterprise, but one that stood fundamentally upon solid ground. In his insanity and mania, he had alienated any power base that might have stood with him for his father’s accomplishments, and his lust and debauchery stood contrary to the Roman values that the Senate ostensibly supported. With his own mistress, Marcia, the Christian concubine of the Emperor, and the Praetorian Prefect, Quintus Aemilius Laetus, at the head of the conspiracy, be it through the force of arms of the Praetorian guards, or by poison and treachery, it was guaranteed that Commodus should fall.

Where the future emperor, Publius Helvius Pertinax, stood in this matter is less clear. It was known that he was a man formerly of considerable power and military acclaim and now the urban prefect. However, whether he desired the fall of Commodus, and his own usurpation of the position of Augustus, prior to an offer extended by the chief conspirators is unknown. In truth, historians cannot dismiss the notion that the future emperor orchestrated the entire conspiracy for his rise. Whether Pertinax had been biding his time since the death of Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, or whether he decided that his time was nigh when Marcia and Laetus came to his ornate mansion, it was clear that he was ready to assume the highest office that any distinguished senator might seize.

On the 31st of December, 192 AD, after a long furtive meeting at his mansion, where it was revealed the Commodus had been both strangled by his wrestling partner Narcissus, as well as poisoned by Marcia, Pertinax prepared himself for the burdens of state, and, upon the rising of the sun, he made his way to the Castra Praetoria, the barracks of the Praetorians, and was acclaimed emperor. They hoisted him upon their shields, reportedly only after a long, icy moment in which it was clear that they were not pleased-- Pertinax was a lesser-known, but still strident opponent of the power of the Praetorians-- and acclaimed him Emperor. Later in the morning, Pertinax made his way to the Curia Julia, flanked by twelve Praetorians, and, after a suitable number of Senators had been rounded up by the rest of the Praetorians, he was officially instated as the emperor.

Pertinax was by no means conservative for a senator. However, the Senate was a body by and for the entrenched aristocracy, and Pertinax was prototypical “old wealth.” As such, his policies as Emperor involved a certain middle-ground: between decadence and austerity, between principate rule and full autocracy, between sensible economic policies and keeping the powerful pleased. This was in theory, a practice that might continue indefinitely, but it was eventually made clear that Pertinax would have to choose between one side.

His initial refusal to sell the estates and slaves of the murdered Commodus made him further enemies. The Praetorians, who had come to expect an accession donative, were considerably bothered by the comparative lack of silver and gold in their hands. They rioted briefly, and Laetus reminded the Emperor that not only had Pertinax only achieved the position of emperor through the assistance of the Praetorians, but also they could just as easily remove him. There were no equivalent forces within the capital, and Pertinax consequently surrendered, selling the estate of Commodus off, primarily to himself (using his own considerable fortune), to give the Praetorians their money.

The incident that made the dangerous position he was in clear to Pertinax was attempted coup. In early March, while at the port of Rome at Ostia, where he was to inspect the arrangements for the grain handouts, an abortive coup was attempted. Enraged, the elderly emperor had the ringleaders executed upon his return to Rome, and, in a display of clemency, had the would-be emperor, Quintus Sosius Falco, pardoned (however, Falco was effectively exiled, and spent his remaining days idly managing a latifundia on Sicily. He later wrote a work on appropriate plantation management, which has not survived).

Yet one coup was clearly not enough to shake Pertinax of the notion that he could compromise with the political factions within the city. There were wheels within wheels of turbulence and politicking, and Pertinax’ attempts to prevent a rapidly emerging inflation crisis made him few friends. Just twelve days after the prior coup attempt, well into the second watch of the night, three hundred unarmored Praetorians, with naked blades stormed the palace. The guards let them by without duress, though they sent word to the Emperor. The Praetorians, having been allowed through, mustered in the courtyard of the palace, and demanded that the Emperor come to them, either to die or to surrender to their interests.

Pertinax, who was clearly not a man pleased when suddenly awoke, refused to even consider meeting with the Praetorians. [PoD] By messenger, he declared them to be acting against their own interests, those of the empire, and the interest of the gods, and pronounced them, to all intents and purposes, rebels. At that point, the Equites Singulares Augusti, the elite cavalry bodyguard of the emperor, who had been roused earlier in the night upon the news of the Praetorian’s march upon the Emperor’s abode, appeared, and promptly charged.

The Praetorians, unarmored, were rapidly and efficiently slaughtered. Pertinax, finally taking his first real stand on any issue, sent messengers to the Praetorians, declaring that the emperor was dead, followed shortly by the imperial cavalry. The Praetorians were first roused from sleep for celebration, then slaughtered, and few surviving Praetorians were later sold into mine-slavery in Spain. Pertinax, the next morning, called for a Senate meeting, and announced that the institution of the Praetorian Guard was henceforth abolished, now and forever.

Quintus Aemilius Laetus, who had sent the Praetorians to the palace in the first place, was crucified like a common slave, and his corpse, when it finally rotted beyond recognition, was thrown in the Tiber, so that his soul could have no rest. The remaining officers of the Praetorians were similarly treated, sending a firm message towards those who opposed the Emperor.

For the moment, no replacement for the defunct Praetorians was instituted, as Pertinax used his political capital from the victory to enact his currency reforms, increasing the gold and silver content in the coins. His rapid reforms, as momentarily inconvenient served to well buffer the empire from potential hyperinflation. However, more important over the long run were his agricultural reforms, which made legal the reclamation of fallow land by whomever were to occupy it; an action which benefited the large-scale landowners in the Senate over all. Pertinax’ policies were distinctly senatorial, as he had been an august member of that body before his elevation to the position of the princeps, and the majority of the members of his support-base were senators.

The most extreme result of his relatively short reign was the disestablishment of the Equestrian provinces. Pertinax, who not only disliked the concentration of political power in a body he could not directly control, and moreover, lacked detailed knowledge of, schemed for over two years within the Senate before revoking them. His actions clearly stemmed from his freedom in action following the fall of the Praetorians, as an entire legion was moved down from the Rhine frontier to quell unrest within Italia.

The consequences of the Equestrian Revocation of 195 were twofold: firstly, it resulted in a continuance of the principate policy, namely the ostensible rule through the Senate that the early emperors maintained, and furthermore it decreased the political capital of the equestrians to almost nothing. Without the position of Praetorian prefect, and without the position of equestrian governor, they were left effectively politically helpless.

The Senate, more easily managed by the emperor, became the fundamental tool by which he enforced his will upon the Empire, and it was through internal politics within the Senate that the emperor were to manage his most substantial or controversial reforms. This check on the emperor-- the reliance upon the Senate against equestrians-- checked the tendency of poor decision-making to damage the empire.

The reign of Pertinax ended peacefully later that year. Publius Helvius Pertinax Augustus, the first of his dynasty, died in his sleep at the age of sixty-nine. His son, also named Publius Helvius Pertinax succeeded him at the age of eleven. However, as a child of eleven, he would reign under co-emperor in an effective regent position if he were to reign at all, and as consequence, there was much debate as to who wold take up that position. The two dominant candidates in that field were Titus Flavius Claudius Sulpicianus, the emperor’s grandfather, a former consul, and father-in-law to the elder Pertinax, who stood in opposition to Marcus Didius Severus Julianus, a friend of the dead emperor, who served as consul with him under Marcus Aurelius, as well as succeeded him as proconsul of Africa.

Both men had been significant supporters of Pertinax within the Senate ranks, but only Sulpicianus could be suspected of participating in the conspiracy which put Pertinax on the throne in the first place; Julianus, who was in exile in Mediolanum (Commodus had exiled him on suspicion of his involvement in a plot against him) could not have participated in the plot. The reasonable action by the senate would be to let the emperor’s grandfather take the position of co-emperor, but against reason, the Senate acclaimed Julianus as co-emperor, and raised him to the purple.

The reasoning for the Senate’s decision was sound, if looked at in context. Increased barbarian activity upon Dacian border, combined with the desire for a strong leader on the throne lead thinking towards Julianus far more than Sulpicianus. Julianus, who had had a more glorious political career, had also fiercely put down the Chauci tribe, who lived along the Rhine frontier and along the Elbe, upon their activity under Marcus Aurelius’ rule. He had also won a victorious campaign against the Chatti in central Germania, a campaign so victorious, in fact, that it effectively destroyed the Chatti forever.

Julianus, who was furthermore of strong character, if somewhat misguided in policy, elected to make amends with Sulpicianus. He appointed him consul, and wedded his only daughter, Didia Clara, to the widower Sulpicianus. Didia Clara, who was renowned in Rome for her beauty, even at forty, and surely was a worthy consolation prize to Sulpicianus. At the same time, Julianus officially adopted the younger Pertinax as his son, resulting in the grand name Publius Helvius Pertinax Didius Severus Julianus Augustus. This, while it resulted in a tangled family tree, seemed to remedy the political situation between the dominant political actors in Rome.

Leaving the placated Sulpicianus behind to manage Rome, the two emperors immediately embarked for the Dacian frontier in June of 196, where he mustered the Legio I Adiutrix Pia Fidelis, Legio XIII Gemina, and Legio V Macedonica, garrisoning the province, for an extended campaign in barbarian territory. Additionally, the I, II, and III Legiones Italica were gathered in Dacia during this period. The I Adiutrix and II Legio Italica were dispatched under Lucius Septimius Severus, a man who, while being of questionable loyalty, was of the highest generalship, toward the Roxolani, for a pacification campaign, while the II and III Italica, the XIII Gemina, and the V Macedonica set out for a campaign against the Cotini and Quadi peoples, who had engaged in an alliance against Roman domination.

During the campaign, Pertinax Minor received a new agnomen, namely Getis, for his nominal command in an attack made upon the Getae people living north of the Danube. The battle, during which the twelve-year old Emperor participated as a cavalrymen, saw a large raiding party of four hundred Getae put utterly to the sword. The experience was deeply influential for the young emperor, and was one of the most important moments of the campaign for the development of his character. In fact, Publius Helvius Pertinax Didius Severus Julianus Getis Augustus would come to be known simply as Emperor Getis to historians.

Another notable incident of the campaign was the development of a close friendship between Getis and the son of Septimius Severus, who had been left with Didius Julianus as a guarantee of his father’s good behavior. Seven years old, Lucius Septimius Bassianus soon became an inseparable companion to the emperor. This lifelong friendship would serve Getis in good stead when he finally came to the throne, and Bassianus’ dedication to Getis would become legendary.

The campaign ended in the early fall of 196, and was a great success. Getis and Julianus returned to Rome in great splendor, and Julianus arranged for a triumph for himself. Getis too participated, standing with his face painted red next to Julianus as a slave whispered that he was but a man into his ear. The experience was the inspiration for Getis’ martial career: it is his triumph in 196 that he claimed as inspiration and motivation for the campaigns that would dominate his reign.

The palace life of Julianus and Getis is worthy of note. The elder emperor, who was inclined to licentiousness, was strictly opposed by the more moralistic younger man. Neither of the emperors had a wife, Julianus’ having died in 193, while Getis was betrothed to Fulvia Plautilla, daughter of the Gaius Fulvius Plautianus, a powerful patrician of an old family, and cousin to Septimius Severus, father of Getis’ friend Bassianus. As a result, the palace life of the emperors was akin to the life of a bachelor. While the palace never reached the state it had in 192 under Commodus, it is noted that by 198, Getis and Julianus had divided the palace into half: one which Getis devoted to his studies and his practice of arms, one half of which was used by Julianus for his celebrations and other occasions he felt warranted his entertainment of the Senators.

Julianus was deeply unpopular, in fact, with the Senate. He was accused of managing affairs in a servile fashion, beyond even the conciliatory excesses of Pertinax prior to the execution of the Praetorians. In a sense, it was an accusation by the Senate that he managed the Senate as was reasonable since Pertinax. Clearly the Senators had not adjusted to being the arbiters of power in Rome. Getis was seen in a far more positive light, being firstly regarded as the continuation of his father, who had a high reputation within the Senate ranks, and secondly for his general firmness of character. With the divide between ‘father’ and ‘son,’ the internal politics of Rome became of higher importance: who was to become governor, who was to command what army all depended on balancing the competing interests of Getis and his senatorial faction, Julianus and his senatorial faction, Sulpicianus and his senatorial faction, and Plautianus and his senatorial faction.

Sulpicianus, who obviously favored his grandson over the man he viewed to be an usurper to the throne, and Plautianus, who firstly appreciated his connections to Getis through his daughter, finally proved to be the arbiter of who was who in Rome. In the forum, in December of 199, Didius Julianus was murdered in broad daylight by a band of ruffians known to be under hire by Plautianus as his ‘enforcers’ in the streets of Rome. This is reflexive of more than simply Plautianus’ involvement in a conspiracy to kill the emperor, but rather shows that there was large-scale opposition to Julianus throughout Rome. Firstly the Plautian thugs would not, under ordinary circumstances, have access to the forum: there were urban cohorts whose responsibility it was to guard the public ways. This indicates the involvement of the prefect of Rome, Gaius Pomponius Bassus Terentianus, who was a close friend of Didius Julianus. He would be the only man with sufficient control over the metropolitan army to alter the patrols for the day in such a manner.

Secondly, Plautianus would not act so boldly on his own; he was not a man inclined to action without a sufficient power base. He abused power when he held it, but he didn’t have nearly enough power to kill an emperor, and he never would have acted without believing he had a firm enough ground to stand on. As a result, the involvement of Sulpicianus is clear, as well as the involvement of at least some of Julianus’ senators. Getis’ involvement was less likely. He may have have been estranged from his ostensible ‘father,’ but that is not indicative of a desire to kill him.

Regardless of who did what in the conspiracy, the result had the greatest results for Getis. He delayed in a reacclamation ceremony with the Senate until January 1st, 200, seven years to the day after his father took power. However, before he went before the senate, he arranged for his long-awaited marriage to Publia Fulvia Plautilla, which occurred at the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. The two, who were deeply fond of each other, despite the extenuating length of their courtship, were wedded in a ceremony which diverged from the traditional in only one respect: rather than the standard “Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia,” uttered by the wife to declare their union, Getis remarked “Ubi ego Imperator, tu Imperatrix.” It was a unique dedication of her role as Empress, and served to break the traditional mold in many ways. Indeed, for many points of Getis’ sole reign, Plautilla would be holding power in Rome, and indeed, she was often called (whether mockingly or affectionately) Publia Fulvia Plautilla Augusta, Imperatrix.

On January 1st, 200, Getis came before the Senate in full armor. While no replacement for the Praetorian Guard had yet been instituted, he had behind him twelve imperial cavalrymen in full armor, who exited the chamber when the Senate rose to acclaim Getis Emperor in full right. He nodded to the Senate in recognition of the acclamation, and then strode out of the building, to face the sunlight.
 
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Pertinax and the Pretorians, can't decide whether it sounds more like the name a Kids' TV show or a Rock Band.

Great timeline though. I take it its partly inspired (although not based on) Sophia McDougall's Romanitas series.
 
Pertinax and the Pretorians, can't decide whether it sounds more like the name a Kids' TV show or a Rock Band.

Great timeline though. I take it its partly inspired (although not based on) Sophia McDougall's Romanitas series.

Thanks!

It was initially a coincidence, actually. It was based on a passage from Cassius Dio, and then I looked Pertinax up (to get some more information) and saw that McDougall had written a work with that as the PoD on the wiki page. Seemed an interesting idea beforehand, and I thought it might be interesting to take a PoD for some soft AH, and write harder alternate history with it.
 
I just finished reading the entire original version of the timeline and other than your handwaving away Christianity, I rather liked it.

I'll keep an eye on this one.
 
Pertinax and the Pretorians, can't decide whether it sounds more like the name a Kids' TV show or a Rock Band.

Great timeline though. I take it its partly inspired (although not based on) Sophia McDougall's Romanitas series.

It reminds me of Jason and The Pussy Cats from the fairly odd parents a while back.


Anyway, great TL. I had just read the original version a couple days ago, so I'm glad to see it's not dead.
 
Should be interesting.
I'm curious on your use of the phrase "Imperator Romani" though since Imperator wouldn't need the adjective to indicate he's Roman as only Romans can be Imperator.
 
Should be interesting.
I'm curious on your use of the phrase "Imperator Romani" though since Imperator wouldn't need the adjective to indicate he's Roman as only Romans can be Imperator.

199824d1297381772-best-tractor-should-open-can-istock_can-worms-749944.jpg
 
I just finished reading the entire original version of the timeline and other than your handwaving away Christianity, I rather liked it.

I'll keep an eye on this one.

Thanks. I'm not sure what I'm going to do with Christianity this go round. I'll have to put some thought into it. As it is, it's a while off, even with the rate at which I've been writing the next update.

It reminds me of Jason and The Pussy Cats from the fairly odd parents a while back.


Anyway, great TL. I had just read the original version a couple days ago, so I'm glad to see it's not dead.

Thank you kindly.

Should be interesting.
I'm curious on your use of the phrase "Imperator Romani" though since Imperator wouldn't need the adjective to indicate he's Roman as only Romans can be Imperator.

I think I was using that to distinguish it from its usage as a praenomen. Of course, that's an artificial distinction on my part. I should probably edit it, but I'm inclined to let it lie.

Nice to see a reboot of this. Subscribed. :cool:

Thank you.
 
Why did opening image in a new tab give me a video of a tractor? :confused:

Copypasting gets me a can of worms...

I think I was using that to distinguish it from its usage as a praenomen. Of course, that's an artificial distinction on my part. I should probably edit it, but I'm inclined to let it lie.
So long as you recognise that Romani is the plural form of the adjective ie you've called him "Romans-y Imperator" ;)
"of the Romans" would be Romanorum :D
/nitpickingnitpick
 
Copypasting gets me a can of worms...

So long as you recognise that Romani is the plural form of the adjective ie you've called him "Romans-y Imperator" ;)
"of the Romans" would be Romanorum :D
/nitpickingnitpick

Oh bugger... And to think Latin was my best subject in school. Nonsensical distinguishing can stand, poor grammar shall never last! :mad: :p
 
If you included the first version's Roman-aping Frankish Empire (something I thought was really cool, so you should), eventually the "Emperor of the Romans" might need to distinguish himself from the "Emperor of the Franks," however much it might gall him that a "barbarian" is using an Imperial title.
 
Alternatively you could have Imperator Populi Romani ("Commander of the Roman People"), somewhat mimicking the Genio Populi Romani ("the divine nature of the Roman People") and Salus Populi Romani ("the well-being of the Roman People"), both of which were worshipped at various times.
 

Deleted member 67076

This is really, really good!:D Never seen a no 3rd century crisis TL before.
 
Alternatively you could have Imperator Populi Romani ("Commander of the Roman People"), somewhat mimicking the Genio Populi Romani ("the divine nature of the Roman People") and Salus Populi Romani ("the well-being of the Roman People"), both of which were worshipped at various times.

Ooh that makes good sense :cool:
 
Trying to get a chapter out sooner rather than later...

Chapter 2:

The Emperor Getis had a fortunately simple time of easing into the solitude of Imperial power. Didius Julianus’ alienation of the senatorial body had resulted in a strengthening of support for the young Getis. Whether he was seen as a strong, young man (for seven years, Imperial power had been occupied by elderly men) or as a malleable youth, Getis served as a convenient slate upon which the senators imagined their ideal emperor.

Getis himself remained somewhat a mystery for the first month of his independent reign. He occupied himself in the palace with his wife, though it was clear from the reports that issued out that the emperor was hard at work, rather than engaging in pleasurable exercises as one might expect of newlyweds. Many senators had spies in the form of imperial slaves and servants, and those who were in confidential consultation with the cubicularii, the eunuch keepers of the Imperial chamber, could tell that the young Emperor had engaged in frequent discourse with Lucius Septimius Severus, who had returned to the capitol from his posting as proconsul of Africa as soon as Julianus had been murdered, presumably upon the emperor’s word.

In the Senate, there was considerable concern that Septimius Severus was setting himself up to be another Didius Julianus, or even just to be a silent figure manipulating the emperor without even the bluster of Julianus a prospect seen as all the more thrreatening. New reports of mounting unrest in the provinces (especially Gaul, where the governor of Gallia Lugdunensis, a Decimus Clodius Septimius Albinus whose bravery and ambition was equalled only by the whiteness of his skin, seemed ready revolt against the empire) resulted in further consternation within the Senate. Now was not the time for internal politics to consume the capital, but nor was it the time for another corrupt strongman to sideline the rightful emperor. The impression that Julianus’ actions had left upon the capital city were at that time still strong.

As a result, by mid February of 200, when the senators had failed to receive any of their customary bulletins from their informants in the palace for several days, it was a cause for questioning when the leaders of the major senatorial subfactions were given a strongly worded invitation to the palace.

The next morning, sight that greeted them was not that which they would expect. Seated in an imperial throne, in the tablinum, or study, of the emperor was the astonishing sight of Publia Fulvia Plautilla, dressed in the imperial purple, and sternly gazing down upon the most powerful men in the empire. She was crowned with a diadem, and had upon the desk in front of her a sword-- a visible reminder of the military force at the emperor’s beck and call.

But the location of the emperor was more mysterious still. When one of the senators, a certain Gaius Cassius Regallianus found it impossible to further restrain his curiosity and incredulity at the sight of a woman who appeared to be hinting that she was exercising imperial power, Plautilla simply nodded, and one of the servants exited. Shortly afterwards, the mutilated heads of the senators’ spies were brought in on silver plates, and Plautilla haughtily informed them that the Emperor would not accept treachery in Rome.

It emerged that the emperor had left three nights before in the company of Septimius Severus and Bassianus, headed for Gaul, where they would confront Clodius Albinus. For the time being, Plautilla said that she would be governing Rome and the senators. This was initially seen as laughable, but then Plautianus and Sulpicianus, who presumably had been informed (or browbeaten into agreement) beforehand bowed, and the other senators, left without choice after the two most powerful men in the senate had acquiesced bowed.

Plautilla governed Rome for two months, during which the tensions between senators and equites reached a new height. After the disenfranchisement of the equites by Pertinax, and their alienation from the highest echelons of the political stage, the knights (who, it must be noted, were often men of extraordinary wealth, just shy of the senators), almost raised their standards in revolt. Class warfare had not been a feature of Roman life since the Republic, and overt violence such as political brawls and assassinations, had appeared before. The urban prefect, Gaius Pomponius Bassus Terentianus, mustered his cohorts, and froze the city in a tenuous sort of martial law until the emperor were to return.

Plautilla meanwhile was effectively frozen as well. She had to exercise power to demonstrate that she could be an effective regent for her husband, but that power was all but impossible to exercise as a woman. She couldn’t let herself rely on any man of the senate too much, or to demand too much of the senators. As a result, she exercised power largely on meaningless fronts: she granted a few estates in favor to those preselected by Getis, and she ordered that the fortifications on the Parthian frontier be renovated-- a sign of the emperor’s intentions on that front.

In Gaul, Getis found the situation had deteriorated far further than he had expected. Clodius Albinus had mustered the Gallic legions at Lugdunum and seemed ready to march on Italy. The sudden arrival of the emperor and the emperor’s finest general seemed more than he was ready for. Despite having done everything but actually raise his standard in revolt, he knew it was clear that he was caught, and likely presumed that further retribution was coming, and slit his wrists accordingly after the emperor ordered that he meet him to account for his actions.

Albinus having been appropriately handled, Getis made an inspection of the troops, elevated Albinus’ subordinate, Publius Septimius Geta, to the position of governor, and prepared, after a hard journey on horseback accompanied only by Severus, Bassianus, and ten of the Equites Singulares Augusti, to head back with equally pressing speed, recognizing the fragility of his wife’s position, and the tensions that had been evident within the city even before he left for Gaul.

By late April, he was back in Rome, making his re-entrance discretely. The state of the city had fallen to all but political anarchy in his absence, and the urban cohorts were hard-pressed to handle both the chaos int he markets and an upswing in crime. Plautilla was resolutely holding onto her position in the palace, but had found it almost impossible to handle the city in turmoil as it was. Had the Praetorians been in place and loyal, it might have been easier to handle, but with minimal forces in place, the Imperial camp was effectively trapped.

In an attempt to mediate the conflict, or at least temper the Equestrian resolve to force the conflict, Getis decided to create a new bodyguard, at last the replacement for the defunct Praetorians. Rather than create a specific unified force, he rather ordered the formation of ten cohorts of a five hundred men (half of the inflated cohort size of the Praetorians), each capable of independent operations in a battlefield setting. These were, in a conscious reflection of the memory of Alexander the Great, called the Companions. (Or Hetaerūs, in the Romanized Greek used) Each cohort was to be lead by an eques personally selected by the emperor, and officers were to be appointed only by the emperor on recommendation for loyalty and bravery. Getis’ thinking was presumably that such a power structure dependent upon quality (and filtering out the finest officers in the Roman army and delivering them to the Emperor) would be far less inclined to revolt and treachery. The Companions, he added furthermore, would be the first troops allowed to sack a captured city.

He declared that the rank of a companion was beneath only that of the emperor, and held a status equal to any and all senatorial positions-- a decision that raised a hubbub amongst the senators, but failed to elicit noticeable shockwaves of outrage, fortunately for him. Both sides clearly saw the conciliatory methods of the emperor-- who with his disappearance had proven to be of a thoroughly unconciliatory nature-- as a chance to either recuperate from the outbreak of violence or to prepare for further action.

The paradox of this period of ‘class warfare’ is that it was between two hyperwealthy classes, and fundamentally over very little. Removing one specific office from the equestrians had actually done little to diminish their power-- despite their rhetoric-- or their ability to live lives befitting the aristocracy. The contemporary accounts of the violence as apocalyptic is clearly an exaggeration, for the minuscule size of the classes involved, as well as their minimal control over the urban poor of Rome made it unlikely that there could be substantive casualties in such a struggle.

But it was clear that the emperor had made a gamble in leaving the city, and especially in leaving his wife in power. It was not the first time that Getis had left the city without notice, but it was very much the first time he had made it out unobserved, and moreover was the first time he had done so as the governing emperor. His ploy was indicative of a political awareness beyond that of his predecessors. He had been raised in the hostile environment of Rome, bereft of any support other than that which he could muster himself, and as a result, had become a political creature. His actions in heading to Gaul displayed a youthful form of direct leadership, and a tendency towards micromanagement. However much it worked while under a strong emperor, such as Getis, later this trend would have catastrophic results, however.

Shortly after the reformation of the Imperial bodyguard came Getis’ second announcement. In a speech made to the Senate in May, he announced that he would be leading a campaign into Armenia, and, in preparation for this campaign, would be raising four legions with the money in the treasury. This decision (of raising a massive new force instead of retasking old formatios) was indicative of the benefit of Pertinax’ monetary reformations. The I through IV Parthica, as they were termed formed the core of Getis’ operations within the following campaign. Their trial by fire, as it was, would also be the emperor’s first real lesson in command.

By January of 201, the legions had been effectively formed, equipped, and trained appropriately, and Getis prepared to set out. With him, as always, were Septimius Severus and Bassianus. Plautilla having been left to hold down ‘the fort’ (and having been left with one of the Companion cohorts), Getis embarked upon the fleet at Ostia, and set course for Seleucia Pieria, port of Antioch, where the army marched upon the kingdom of Armenia, which, according to the Emperor, had been neglectful in its duties as a client kingdom of Rome, and had accepted the Parthians as overlord.

With forty one thousand thousand fresh legionaries, and nearly five thousand Companions, Getis prepared to go to war. The consequences thereof, both for the emperor, his soldiers, and the empire, would be profound
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