Roman Centurions Were Not the Backbone of a Legion
They Were the Whole Skeleton
Roman centurions weren't always the professionals they were in my day. Back in the days of the Roman Republic, they were elected by their fellow soldiers to lead the century. Because I am - very well, was - a soldier, I'm allowed to say this. I wonder if letting legionaries choose their own officers was always a wise move. Your best drinking buddy, the most popular man or the man with the most friends watching to see who voted against him, might not make the best officers. I suppose they got the centurions they deserved. I joined the Imperial Roman Army, where things were done differently. While most centurions came up through the ranks, some were transferred from the Praetorian Guard. Others were appointed straight from civilian life. They were usually younger sons of noble or just very wealthy families. If those lads stayed at home, they lived under their father's thumb until their older brother inherited most of everything and became head of the family (a different thumb). Little brothers who became centurions had a chance to earn really good money, travel the empire and have a career for 25 years or more. (All that - except the good money - applied to a lot of us younger sons, rich or dirt poor.) Centurions who were appointed to their posts, owed their positions to the favor of an important patron, usually a senator. His letter of recommendation had to carry enough weight with a legate or governor (more senators), to get an appointment. As usual, who you knew mattered a lot more than what you knew. Some of them were really interested and eager to learn the job. Others needed a decent optio to run the century while every one else offered sacrifices and prayed for him to be transferred. Other centurions transferred into the legions when they had done their sixteen years with the Praetorian Guard, the emperor's bodyguard. They already knew how an army worked - at least on the parade ground. Some people in Rome seemed to think that any latrine orderly in the Guard was fit to command a century of legionaries. We did not always agree. Both these sorts of centurions had to get along with the, mostly, long serving centurions of their new legion. That was sink or swim time for the City men.
The Roman centurions who set the standard for professional officers, were those who joined as legionaries and rose through the ranks. They got their promotions the hard way, learning as they went. It might have taken ten to fifteen years, but by the time they moved to the top of the barracks block, most of them knew they had earned it. It's fair to say that most legionaries started out wanting to be centurions. Those who couldn't read and write well, were dreaming. We Romans were extremely fond of keeping records. A man had filled a lot of scrolls and tablets before he became a centurion. After that, he had some one else to do the scratching for him.
Customized Armor
Roman Centurions Stood Out in the Crowd
Roman Centurions were soldiers who commanded 80 other soldiers. Each was well known to his own men. If he had the best or worst sort of reputation around the camp, his face was known to a lot more. In battle dress - they all looked alike. That didn't matter so long as they didn't look just like the rest of us. Everything about a centurion's battle harness looked different. Why? We needed to know who that man, shouting at us to do something completely crack-brained, was. If he was just another 'mule', we made up our own minds. If he was a centurion, we did as we were told - fast. To start, they wore the crests on their helmets from side to side, instead of front to back like the rest of us plebs. I always thought it looked a bit stupid but no one ever asked my opinion. Even a centurion's helmet could be knocked off, when things got close-up and personal, so the rest of the 'look' was different as well.
Roman Centurions were a very traditional lot. When the legions changed into our new armor, of broad iron plates, they stuck with their old chain mail or bronze fish scale tunics. (Why not, when you will always have some hapless orderly to keep it shiny.) Whether they wore mail or scale amour, most centurions liked to have it silvered. They also tended to wear their favorite decorations. Remember, the idea of armor is only mostly to protect the soldier. It should help to impress and, hopefully, worry the enemy. ('How can we defeat this shining, armored being
and his five thousand iron-clad friends?') Below all that splendor, a pair of shiny greaves were strapped on to protect their shins. The final difference was easy to miss if you weren't paying attention. Centurions wore their gladii (swords), on the left side instead of the right, like the rest of us. Just in case you failed to notice any of the above distinctions, he had a third weapon. Every centurion carried a length of tough, twisted grape vine. It was about as thick as two or three fingers together. It quickly grabbed your attention, when he cracked it across your own unarmored bits. Whatever else you did in the army, you never ignored a centurion.
Roman Centurions Always Had Power
Augustus Gave Them Wealth and Status
Roman centurions, of the lowest rank, were paid at least ten times basic pay. One day a man was an Optio on twice basic (duplicarius),about 500 denarii a year. His Promotion to centurion comes through and suddenly he's collecting something like three thousand a year, BB (before bribes).A pay clerk once told me that Primus Pilus, the chief centurion gets fifteen thousand denarii but I'm not sure I believe that. Granted, his house at the fortress is half the size of our barracks block. Rank certainly has its privileges. Once a man became a centurion, he got noticed. His records were sent to Rome, instead of gathering dust in the back room of the local fortress. They were updated every time he did something worth mentioning. A Roman centurion whose name attracted attention was snatched from his legion to do all sorts of jobs for officials in Rome or provincial governors. We always had a few more centurions knocking about, than centuries for them to command. Each one had to be kept busy to earn his very nice pay. He could find himself sent off to do all sorts of jobs your world would never think of a soldier doing: from sorting out the local town council's accounts to making sure their sewage actually got flushed away. He could be escorting diplomatic missions to tribes and countries outside the empire to guide treaty negotiations or mother-hening merchants who were supposed to be stirring up trade, not an unplanned war. Roman centurions dreamed of becoming Primus Pilus (first spear), the way legionaries dreamed of being centurions. Maybe he did get paid 15,000 denarii a year, I don't know, but the big prize was the leap in social status. Primus Pilus was a Knight (Equestrian). Family, and improving the family's fortunes, mattered to Romans and everyone else in the empire. The sons of an equestrian could go a long way. With everything in the empire depending on the favor of the emperor, they could dream of being senators, if their dad had made the right kind of friends. The top rank in the legion, open to a centurion, was Praefectus Castrorum (camp prefect). Praefectus was in charge of laying out marching camps and fortresses and seeing that they were built properly. He was responsible for training and generally keeping us all on our toes. He was the highest ranking professional soldier in the legion and in charge if the legate and senior tribune were gone for any reason. Besides being hard work, he had to give up the job after a year and retire from the legion. (It was a bit like being Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts.) Roman centurions who chose to retire, usually became active in public life, wherever they ended up living. Men who have been used to telling others what to do, seldom loose the habit. A Roman centurion usually had the natural authority to get away with it. That's how he got hold of a vine staff in the first place.
Return from Roman Centurions to Professional Soldiers
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