This article has been written for Easy History by D. S. Foster.
Introduction:
As part of a longer series of planned articles on clandestine activities throughout history, I’ve been working on a sub-series focusing on pre-industrial secret police forces (or their nearest equivalents). This includes ancient history, which means that sooner or later, we have to address the Rome in the room. Today is just as good of a day as any, so let’s get on with it.
Here’s the interesting thing. While Roman society could with minimal exaggeration be described as everyone spying on everyone, all the time, almost no one had the official job of doing so. For all its centuries of European hegemony, Rome never had a specific organisation focusing on either intelligence gathering, counterintelligence, or countersubversion. In fact, the Romans managed with a relatively sparse bureaucracy in most arenas. This may have been due to the individualistic nature of the government, which from its earliest days could be better described as a conglomeration of powerful families more concerned with keeping tabs on each other than with policing the state as a whole. To allow the development of a more centralised body would be to risk it coming under the control of one of many competing clans, and this was just a bit too hierarchical for the Roman Republic. However, it was understood that virtually every Roman aristocrat maintained a network of family members, allies, servants, slaves, and paid informants to keep tabs on what their potential rivals were up to. For instance, there is an anecdote about Marcus Livius Drusus, a Roman politician from the first century BC. When he was having a home built, the architect allegedly asked him if he would prefer it structured in such a way that allowed him to watch his neighbors or to prevent his neighbors from watching him (I’m not sure why “both” wasn’t an option). I think it can reasonably be assumed that this behaviour was rife enough that there were individuals who made a healthy living out of it.
Yet the Roman Emperor and Senate did not need a separate department to spy on their own citizens when there were so many other resources that could be employed towards that purpose. Two of these organisations stand out as doing so with such skill and frequency that they would fit reasonably well into a latter-day surveillance state, and it is these that I will be focusing on. One was the frumentarii (literally “grain collectors”), and the other was the Praetorian Guard.
On the Frumentarii:
The frumentarii began as a branch of the Roman military who supplied legions with grain, but over the centuries they would take on the roles of spies, informers, couriers and guards. There is no compelling evidence that they consistently concealed their identities, but there do seem to be cases where some members operated in “plainclothes” in order to conceal their agenda from their targets. The fact that they traveled widely and frequently came into contact with local populations made them ideal for collecting and transmitting information, so their later duties were natural outgrowths of their original ones. They were often attached to specific Roman legions and operated in the peripheral regions of the empire.
The Emperor Hadrian was one of the first to make full use of the frumentarii’s intelligence gathering capabilities. According to The Life of Hadrian, he was mildly obsessive about monitoring the personal lives of those closest to him, even ordering their mail to be opened. Reportedly, one man (presumed from the context to be some kind of high-ranking military officer) was receiving letters from his wife, chastising him for neglecting her in favor of his leisure pursuits. This man asked Hadrian for leave, at which point the emperor began lecturing him about his conduct towards his wife. Hadrian, I respect your attempt to create an efficient system of information exchange across your empire, but I’m disappointed that you would give the entire game away simply to meddle in your underling’s domestic problems.
Much of our information about the frumentarii comes to us from early Christian chroniclers such as Eusebius and Cyprian, who refer to their role in spying on and arresting members of the nascent Christian church. If at all accurate, this would have included some classic cat-and-mouse action, with Christians attempting to evade arrest with the support of their own underground intelligence networks. There are references to the frumentarii wearing ordinary clothing, perhaps as a way of getting closer to Christians or other sources of suspicious activity. A word of caution is appropriate here: there is no indication that all of the Romans partaking in early Christian persecution were exclusively frumentarii, as any number of roles could have been co-opted for the purpose.
By the time the frumentarii were dissolved by the Emperor Diocletian in the late third century, they were strongly disliked by the populace. Aurelius Victor, writing in the fourth century CE, makes reference to them “fabricating charges”, “inspiring fear”, and “plundering.” There is little indication that these abuses of power were orchestrated by the state, or that they were motivated by anything other than the greed of individual members. By the time of their dissolution, they were also largely unnecessary, and the empire had grown wary of allowing any one military unit access to too many resources. Their historical roles were being supplanted by a more centralised, civilian organization known as the agentes en rebus (literally “general agents”). Over the coming years, they would take on virtually all the functions of the frumentarii, and would persist into the Byzantine era.
On the Praetorian Guard:
I will next talk about the famous Praetorian Guard, which one source called “the most effective secret service of classical antiquity”. Founded by Emperor Augustus, these were ostensibly soldiers charged with protecting members of the Imperial Household. In the ensuing centuries, they would become political players in their own right and develop a, suffice to say, complicated relationship with the Roman Emperors. For one thing, the “imperial household” was usually a fractious hot-bed of competing interests, and the Praetorian Guard could be used by members of the imperial family to police one another as much as protect them.
Praetorians are present at several key points in the familiar dramas of the Julio-Claudian emperors. One, Sejanus, became the trusted confidante of Emperor Tiberius, but was ultimately executed on charges of plotting against him. It was the Praetorians who assassinated Caligula and then allegedly dragged his uncle Claudius out of his hiding place and used him to head off any attempts by the Senate to restore the Republic. Late in the second century CE, the Praetorians had grown so powerful that they quite literally sold the imperial title to the highest bidder (in this case, the Emperor Julianus, who then failed to pay up and was promptly abandoned to be assassinated during the ensuing civil war. Remember, always ask for the money up front). With their status as kingmakers and occasional kingbreakers, they effectively held the keys to the throne, so any would-be emperor had to stay on their good side. Interestingly, there was an injunction against the Praetorians “entering the houses of senators”, although the reasons for this are unclear. This could indicate a degree of respect for senators, or it could have been paranoia that the Praetorians and the senators might have the chance to conspire together. The duties of the Praetorian guard largely saw them coalesced around members of the imperial circle, but like the frumentarii, they were also multi-purpose. While they may have engaged in clandestine activities, they were also used for more overt purposes, such as arresting, interrogating, and even executing prisoners
What’s interesting about the Praetorian Guard is that they typically dressed in “plainclothes”, carrying weapons in the folds of their clothing. This was not initially done for any sinister purpose, but in order to reassure the Roman populace. Augustus knew that the Romans were deeply hostile towards the idea of anyone stationing troops within the city, and that he could gain some wiggle room by having the Praetorian Guard dress in a similar way to ordinary citizens. In later years, this would have the added benefit of allowing them to move about in public and question unsuspecting people, often by trying to entice them into speaking ill of the emperor. Apparently, it was common for guards to move about during large public spectacles for this purpose, such as at gladiatorial contests. So, what I’m trying to say here is that if you find yourself sitting in the Colosseum and a burly stranger sits down next to you and starts yammering about how much he hates the emperor, maybe just mumble something about the concession stand and then go sit somewhere else.
The Praetorian Guard was ultimately disbanded during the reign of Emperor Constantine. The reason for this was that the Guard had backed Constantine’s rival, Maxentius, in the civil war that proceeded his ascension. This may have been partly retaliation on Constantine’s part, but it could also have been motivated by sheer practicality. With the Guard taken off the board, Constantine could avoid being effectively held hostage to its favor. This somewhat drastic and decisive move ended three centuries of mutual dependency between the emperors and the force initially created for their protection.
To Conclude:
Although Rome’s intelligence operations never crystallized into a single organisation dedicated to the purpose, this did not seem to limit its effectiveness in any practical sense. I want to stress that almost all of the specific situations I have referenced could have been orchestrated by members of several other organisations beyond the two discussed. I only chose to focus on the frumentarii and the Praetorian Guard because they are relatively well-documented and because they collectively represent the closest thing to what a counter-subversion organisation in ancient Rome would look like. While there was considerable overlap in the tasks required of members of both groups, there were also broad differences–namely, that the frumentarii seemed to have operated over a wider geographic range than the Praetorian Guard, which primarily operated within the immediate environs of the emperor. What stands out as anomalous about the latter is the extraordinary amount of political control they exercised in the centuries after their origin.
I hope you enjoyed this article, and with luck I will be back next month with a new one!
Sources:
- Bingham, S. J. (1997). The praetorian guard in the political and social life of Julio-Claudian Rome (T). University of British Columbia.
- McCunn, S. (2019). What’s in a name? The evolving role of the Frumentarii. The Classical Quarterly 1-15.
- Triplat, J. (2019). Evidence for Roman Intelligence Services along the Eastern Adriatic Coast. Akten des 15. Internationalen Kolloquiums zum Provinzialrömischen Kunstschaffen. Der Stifter und sein Monument: Gesellschaft–Ikonographie–Chronologie.(2078-0141), 15, 454-466
About the Author
I am D. S. Foster; I grew up in Michigan, where I still live to this day. My primary academic background is in biology, but I have always nurtured a broad range of interests, especially for anything mysterious, secretive, and/or ancient. I write fiction, and recently completed my second novel. Needless to say, I spend a lot of my spare time reading and writing, but I also enjoy crocheting, hiking, trying to learn new languages, and spending time with my family. For my day job, I help design and run recreational activities for residents at a retirement home.
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