Roman Military Intelligence - How Good Was It? (Scouts, Spies, Secret Agents)

Espionage is a fascinating subject that gets lots of traction in more modern history, but which often gets overlooked when it comes to antiquity. However, information warfare was just as critical to conflict in the past as it is today, and there should be no surprise that our ancestors were deeply involved in covert operations. This was made possible by the eyes and ears of the legions. Today, we will be exploring this missing dimension of warfare by discussing the Procursatories, the Exploratories, the Speculatories, and the Frumentarii. Maintaining security is super important, especially in your everyday life. And I should know, just in the last couple months, I've gotten data breach notices from my doctor, my dentist, my phone provider. It's freaking crazy. Now, basically every hour, I get spam calls, I have to constantly block people, and I have to live in dread about just who might have my private information out there. Luckily, today's sponsor, Incogni, is here to help. 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INTELLIGENCE GATHERING Intelligence gathering has always been a core part of any military activity. In its simplest form, this often means sending assets ahead of the army to see what lies on the other side of the hill, so to speak. What is the terrain like and where is the enemy? Ancient armies needed cartographers and intelligence just as badly as modern forces, but didn't have anywhere near the amount of technology. The closest equivalent to a satellite view would be a rider on a hilltop. As a result, forces might be within miles of one another, and yet remain unaware of that fact until they literally bumped into one another. Thus, it became important for all armies to carry out reconnaissance of some form. This was especially true of armies with extensive logistical systems. Failure to scout properly could mean that your march took longer, suffered unnecessary attrition, or worse yet, got ambushed. Early Roman armies of the monarchy and nascent republic were rather unsophisticated in these matters, but they didn't necessarily need to be. Their operations were usually close to home in familiar territory. A few riders out in front were generally enough to get the job done. However, as the legions expanded their scope of activities to the hill country of Samnium or the island of Sicily and beyond, the demands of scouting greatly increased. What developed was a more robust approach to reconnaissance, in the form of the procursatores. These were generally groups of mounted troops who fanned out in the close vicinity of the main army. They tended to stay well within a day's march of the infantry column and were expected to operate self-sufficiently. The procursatores were not some specialized elite scouting unit. Rather, they were merely a group of troops who had been selected from the main army to fill the role as the situation demanded. As a result, their composition varied greatly. Rome's equitae cavalrymen filled the role initially, but quickly passed on the torch to more capable allied and auxiliary troops. Caesar, for instance, famously employed Iberian, Gallic, and Germanic horsemen for many of these activities. In terms of their numbers, they were usually quite small in proportion to the overall force. For example, in Julianus' campaign against the Persians, his army of about 60-80,000 men employed a mere 1,500 procursatores, or roughly 2% of the total force. Whilst deployed, the procursatores primarily acted as a close screen for the army, who would make contact with any nearby forces. These patrols were maintained day and night, with their frequency being increased in dangerous territory. As such, they could intercept deserters, informants, enemy scouts, and troops. Another important role was that of pathfinder. The procursatores were expected to explore the terrain immediately ahead and make recommendations on the army's best path forwards. This could be as simple as selecting which fork in the road to take to reach the objective. However, they also had to consider things like the availability of water, foraging opportunities, the danger of the terrain, and the presence of defensive high ground. Ultimately, generals had the final say on the course of the army, but ignored the advice of their scouts at great risk. The Emperor Valentinian, for instance, very nearly lost his life when he decided that the procursatores had chosen a more difficult path than was necessary, and almost immediately fell into an enemy ambush. When a path was selected, the procursatores also worked to secure that route. This involved cutting down trees, removing obstacles, and clearing traps. This advanced force might also be supplemented by light infantry and archers to disperse any token resistance offered by the A cleared path was not just important for the safety of the army, but also its mobility, which was one of the most important strategic tools in Rome's military arsenal. A final role of the procursatores was to take part in the foraging duties of the army. This would be done in conjunction with troops assigned to the role of aquatores, pabulatores, and lignatores. Such daily activities were just as vital as anything related to combat, since an army could only remain in operation so long as it was fed. We cover the topic of Roman army logistics in another video, which you can check out to learn more. While the procursatores were certainly vital to the Roman intelligence operation, they did not fulfill all of its needs. For example, we mentioned that they were usually restricted to acting as a close screen of the army. The vast unknown beyond would be covered by the next category of scouts, known as the exploratories. Caesar claims that they worked at a range of about 35 kilometers, while Ammianus Marcellinus set a minimum of 30 kilometers. As with the procursatores, the exploratories tended to be lightly equipped cavalry troopers selected for an ad hoc assignment rather than on a permanent basis. Oftentimes, the soldiers would be chosen from among the auxiliaries who made up the bulk of Rome's cavalry forces. However, this was not always the case. In Trajan's Dacian Wars, legionaries themselves were picked for the job. By the later empire, however, it does seem that the exploratories were eventually organized into their own formalized units. Whatever the case, the men in question would have been screened for possessing the necessary skills and experience given the importance of the task at hand. Their primary role was that of a scout force, riding out from the main army in all directions to gain an understanding of the world around them. Such journeys could go on for days or weeks at a time, and the exploratories were thus equipped to survive out in the environment on their own. One can imagine a detachment of them establishing some small base of operations by a recognizable landmark, from which to disperse and regroup periodically. As they traveled, they took notes on all kinds of things like geography, topography, troop positions, and recent events. This may have been observed firsthand or relayed to them by Rome's network of spies and informants in the field. For instance, a scout might discover that traveling along the eastern road for a distance of three days march would bring the army to a small village, which had recently been occupied by a garrison of the enemy numbering no more than 100 men. A good eye and experience would be invaluable in this role. For example, smoke and fires indicated an encamped force, while a low, wide dust cloud suggested the movement of a large body of infantry, and a tall, narrow cloud meant the movement of cavalry. If line of sight on actual troops could be achieved, the little details mattered. What unit times were there, how many could be counted, were they disorganized, did they have their shields uncovered, and their equipment ready for battle? In an age before detailed maps, these sorts of reports were meant to provide the general with an up-to-date understanding of his surroundings, from which to piece together a plan of action. For instance, when two armies drew nearer, they would typically slow down, encamp, and begin to probe one another. Once again, the exploratories would be key in these activities. They might be sent on specific patrols to look for weaknesses in the enemy's defenses which could be exploited. Sometimes the exploratories might get a little too close and even skirmish with elements of the enemy army, which would also have had its own scouts, pickets, and foragers milling about. When a specific action was to be undertaken, the exploratories would often be brought in for consultation. For instance, if a commander wished to make a daring multi-pronged night march against the enemy, it would be the exploratories who advised on potential approaches that could be taken. If a commander wished to give battle, the exploratories would give a detailed account of the battlefield to the general and his officers. Though it's never mentioned explicitly in our sources, one can imagine the use of simple military sand tables to convey the information fully. These descriptions would note any and all details which might be a risk or advantage to the army. For instance, the river can only be crossed at a few locations. These embankments make this hill unassailable from all but one side. This marsh is sufficient to prevent outflanking. These woods may hide troops. And so on. A failure by these men was almost always catastrophic. If they reported incorrect information, the army itself could easily be wiped out. In a more routine capacity, the scouting of the exploratories would often be used to determine the location of the army's daily encampment. This was a key part of Roman military operations, as a means to provide security for the troops and their supplies. An ideal camp would be placed on elevated, level ground with a good view of the surroundings and easy access to building materials and water. Pliny the Elder states that once a site had been selected, the exploratories would be required to get fires going, perhaps as a signal to the army or to provide a source of heat for warmth and food preparation. Once this had been done, the exploratories might have worked with the army engineers to mark and survey the site before the army vanguard arrived to start the actual construction work. Another important role of the exploratories was to take offensive action deep behind enemy lines. This meant that in addition to tracking units, they might also rustle their herds of cattle, disrupt their supply lines, or poison their water sources. Such tricks could slow or even cripple an enemy army, making it easy prey for the legions which were soon to arrive. Yet more aggressive actions were possible as well. Exploratories might set traps, plot small-scale ambushes, and even engage in targeted assassinations if the opportunity arose. One fantastic attestation to this is the gravestone of a man by the name of Tiberius Claudius Maximus. It recounts his distinguished career, which included two awards for bravery as a member of the exploratories in the Dacian War. Apparently, it was his unit that was tasked with hunting down the Dacian commander Decibulus. They managed to corner their target, leading Decibulus to slit his own throat. According to the tombstone and depictions on Trajan's column, Maximus reached the dying commander, severed his head, and brought it back to the emperor as a prize. For this, he was greatly rewarded. Such ruthless and effective men must have been exactly what Roman generals looked for in their scouts. While not explicitly stated by our sources, similar units of exploratories may have also been on the trail of Rome's other infamous enemies, such as Hannibal, Mithridates, and Zenobia. Occasionally, especially when combat was not necessarily expected, the legions would employ locals as exploratories. Such individuals could generally be counted on to already have a good understanding of the land and must have been used quite regularly. However, the few times we hear about them in our sources is when things went horribly wrong. One such incident occurred during the Roman invasion of Arabia. Here, a local seems to have led the infantry heavy army on a circuitous route through the desert, tripling the length of their march. The attrition, on top of other factors, eventually led to the ignominious retreat of the entire Roman force. Locals who provided accurate intelligence to Roman commanders were generally richly rewarded. But if things went wrong, they were always the scapegoats, even if it was an innocent mistake. Guides who failed in this way were summarily executed. Thus we have seen how Rome used a layered approach to information warfare, consisting of the procursatores who acted as a close-range ring of patrols and skirmishers, in addition to the exploratories who acted as a long-range ring of scouts and disruptors. Both were a key part of any military operation and were fundamental to the dominance of the legions across the centuries. However, they were just part of Rome's larger information-gathering operation. Stay tuned for future episodes where we will get to cover the speculatores and spies of the Roman army. Espionage is a fascinating subject that gets lots of traction in more modern history, but which often gets overlooked when it comes to antiquity. However, information warfare was just as critical to conflict in the past as it is today, and there should be no surprise that our ancestors were deeply involved in covert operations. Today we will be exploring this missing dimension of warfare by discussing the speculatores, the spies of the Roman army. In the early days, Rome's military intelligence operations appear to have been quite primitive. Ancient accounts tell of multiple occasions where attacks by neighbors or invaders seem to have caught the city completely off guard, nearly leading to its destruction. Other times, we hear of how the results of battle were made known to the Romans not by speedy messengers or signal relay, but by the presence of shields floating down the Tiber. Taken together, you start to get a sense that Rome was bumbling around in the dark, surviving each bloody encounter thanks only to its gritty determination and martial skill. This narrative is pushed further by ancient authors like Livy, who repeatedly emphasize how early Rome was saved time and again not by some clever use of military intelligence, but by a brave hero who rose to the occasion. It makes for a simple moralistic tale about the idealized character of Rome, a culture that abhorred stealthy, underhanded tactics as unbecoming of a true Roman, a culture where surprise was the accepted price for honor. Indeed, it's this narrative which had the author Frontinus conclude that during the days of the monarchy and early republic, shrewd methods of reconnoitering were still unknown to Roman leaders. It's easy to see why this idea has proved appealing and has resonated throughout history. But just how much truth is there to this claim? Well, for starters, we should always be wary of such simple, moralizing explanations of history. This one in particular should be raising all kinds of red flags as it flies in the face of common sense. How on earth could a small community possibly survive, let alone conquer the entirety of Italy, without any intelligence gathering at all? A closer inspection of our sources reveals more nuance to this tale than its authors let on. For example, we have many cases in our texts which discuss conspiracies taking place in and around Rome, involving various factions and their agents. Here, secrets are kept and unmasked, in a manner which makes it clear that subterfuge was certainly common in a political context. This overlapped with the domain of diplomacy where we also hear of Romans commonly accusing enemy envoys of acting as spies. So clearly, they were not unaware of the intelligence game that was afoot. In fact, they even got their own hands dirty in these matters. One of the most famous incidents has to do with the Etruscan siege of Rome in 508 BC, where a youth by the name of Scyvola was sent to sneak into the enemy camp to assassinate the king, Lars Posena. Though he failed in this mission, his bluff that hundreds more would follow in his footsteps was enough to shake the resolve of the besiegers. In another incident, we learn of how the consul Fabius Maximus sent his own Etruscan-speaking brother out into the field as a spy disguised as a farmer. Apparently, he was not only able to discover that the local Umbrians were friendly to the Roman cause, but also managed to bring them over as allies. We even have more specific examples of Roman intelligence gathering operations in more traditional military settings. For instance, during the Etruscan Wars of the 3rd century BC, the consul Aemilius Pappus is made aware of the enemy army's presence by a flight of birds in the distant forest, sends out scouts who discover an ambush, and promptly leads his troops to attack the force by an unexpected direction. Another time, the consul Quintus Fabius is said to have so stealthily scouted the opposing Samnites that he managed to catch them unarmed and completely rout them. Other forms of deception such as feints, concealments, ambushes, and disinformation all find their place in the playbook of early Roman military commanders. Beyond this, there were undoubtedly more examples which go unrecorded by history. Thus, we have demonstrated that Rome was indeed active in the field of military intelligence from the very beginning. However, while they were not complete neophytes in these matters, they certainly lagged far behind the capabilities of their more advanced peers across the Mediterranean. This would prove to be especially true as Rome expanded across the Italian peninsula during the mid-republic. Such rapid growth would stretch the upstart power's rudimentary logistics, communication, and intelligence-gathering operations to the breaking point. One of the greatest stress tests would come during the Punic Wars against mighty Carthage. The North African power was well-versed in the art of military intelligence, as a result of running a maritime empire with a robust bureaucracy, a network of far-traveling merchants, and a practice of routinely deploying military forces overseas. This was all brought together with devastating effect by the military genius Hannibal Barca. At almost every turn, he outwitted the Romans, infiltrating their armies with informants, setting up a spy ring in the capital, forging official documents, and carrying out all manner of other ploys to gain the upper hand. These allowed him to deliver an unprecedented string of defeats against Rome that brought the city to its knees. However, the Italian power would somehow endure. In the aftermath, they slowly learned to adapt to the tricks of their foe, and even began to adopt them as their own. The brilliant commander Publius Cornelius Scipio would be the greatest embodiment of this new approach to warfare, who finally proved able to stand toe-to-toe with Hannibal, both on and off the battlefield. Some examples include the storming of Nova Cathargo by way of a stealthy assault at low tide, and the burning of enemy war camps following their infiltration by centurions disguised as slaves. As a result of the baptism by fire that was the Punic Wars, Roman armies emerged on the other side as some of the most effective military forces of the ancient world. They had learned much from the experience, and in particular gained a new appreciation for the value of intelligence gathering. It is from this point on that we see the true expansion of covert operations within the Roman army in the form of specialized units known as the Speculatores. They would join two other units of the Roman intelligence system which we discussed in a previous episode. To recap, the first involved the Procursatores, who acted as a close screen of patrols, while the second involved the Exploratores, who acted as an outer ring of scouts. While both were invaluable in serving as the eyes and ears of the army, they were ultimately limited in both the range and depth of their intelligence gathering. The Speculatores filled this gap by acting as a third layer that operated far beyond these former two units, as actual spies. These agents appear to have been selected for service on the They were likely recruited on an ad hoc basis, with little in the way of standardization. After all, spies have been a feature of Roman warfare for quite a while, and groups of Speculatores came in all sorts of shapes and sizes. It's only later on during the Imperial era that we start to hear of the formalization of this institution. Supposedly there were 10 undercover agents attached to each legion, with the individual spies reporting up through the regular chain of command. In terms of what they did, our sources are replete with examples. This ranges from carrying messages, engaging in diplomacy, taking on sensitive missions, scouting, sabotaging, and spying. However, there is some academic debate about this subject, as the word Speculatores ends up being used interchangeably in various contexts. This muddies the waters a bit and has led to confusion, for instance, about whether the people who acted as couriers and spies were one and the same, or whether these were two distinct groups. However, to get caught up in these semantics is likely a losing battle given the irregular nature of Rome's intelligence operation, which surely varied widely from time to time and place to place. For the purposes of this video, we will focus mostly on the role of Speculatores as spies. So, what exactly did this entail? Well, as with most spies across the ages, it was their objective to collect information about the enemy in a covert manner. The target in question could vary. For instance, a spy might be sent by a commander to learn about an individual, an army, a fortification, a city, or a region. The duration of their operation could also vary from a short-term stint to a long-term embedment. Whatever the case, they would attempt to perform the infiltration discreetly. This almost always meant shedding any Roman military gear and donning some disguise. Their appearance would be like that of a chameleon. As the situation demanded, a Speculatores might take on the dress of a local, a merchant, a diplomat, a refugee, a deserter, or even an enemy soldier. Thus disguised, they would then begin their intelligence-gathering operation. One approach might be to indirectly learn about an enemy force by targeting the civilian side of things. In this case, the Byzantine manual On Strategy suggests that spies should live quietly among the lower classes or frequent the markets where all kinds of people and information could be found mingling. It's here that an agent might learn about circulating rumors, the sentiments of the population, or the presence of nearby forces. The historian Armianus Marcellinus records some amazing details about these activities on the Persian frontier in the late 4th century AD. Apparently, rumors first began swirling of an upcoming invasion, which was then reinforced by confirmatory reports. The situation quickly escalated when it was discovered that a senior Roman functionary had defected and was now supplying King Sapol II with information on Rome's defenses and military disposition. An espionage mission was then sent deep into Mesopotamia to probe a nearby satrap for details, take account of material stockpiling, and observe possible invasion routes. In another incident, a series of border raids was thought to be the precursor for a larger war, prompting Rome to once again send spies to assess the situation. They found that the Persian king was heavily committed on another frontier, and that the raids had been of a local nature only. In response, the Romans sought to devise ways to keep King Sapol bogged down on other borders, so as to gain better leverage for their upcoming peace negotiations with the eastern power. Other times, a spy might directly target a military position, like a fort or camp. This might be done from the outside by slithering in among the camp followers. Julius Caesar's spies appear to have taken this approach quite regularly whilst operating in Gaul. One example from his commentaries states the following. This, being then determined, they decamped in the second watch with great uproar and commotion, in no definite order, under no command, each seeking for himself the first place on the road. And hurrying to reach home, so that they made their departure seem similar to a flight. Caesar learnt this at once through his speculatores, fearing an ambush because he had not yet perceived the cause of their departure. He kept the army and cavalry in camp. At break of day, when the information had been confirmed by the exploratories, he sent forward his entire cavalry to delay the rearguard. A more capable or bold spy might even penetrate within the enemy ranks. Once inside, the speculatores would soak up as much information as possible. Everything from unit quality to supply levels and overall morale. Hard data might even be stolen in the form of reports or plans. Beyond this, they could also get to work undermining the enemy from the inside. This might entail disseminating propaganda to lower morale, spreading misinformation to cause chaos and even conducting sabotage. However, a good spy would know that the best plan would be to lay low and play the long game, rather than attempting anything too risky which might compromise their position. One of the most common disguises of spies engaged in this sort of penetration would have been that of a deserter. During warfare, it was quite common for soldiers or servants to switch sides for any number of reasons. Commanders were eager to interrogate them to learn as much about the enemy as possible. Sometimes the information was a low-level dud, but other times it could yield battle-winning or disaster-averting levels of information. For instance, at Actium, it was deserters who informed Octavian that Antony and Cleopatra were planning to break through their lines and escape to Egypt. However, trusting such individuals could also prove perilous. A fake deserter could just as easily plant false information or simply give up low-value information in order to get a pass and slip into the enemy ranks. The author Vegetius warns against taking such intel at face value and suggests that experienced or trained staff be used to verify its authenticity. As you can see, there were many potential ways for a spy to gather their information. But how would that information then be relayed back to their masters? The most simple method would have been for them to relay it themselves. However, doing so would obviously have been less than ideal as it meant leaving their post and potentially getting exposed. A better method would have been to rely on intermediaries to carry back their reports. A spy might meet up with contacts and make use of secret signaling to identify themselves discreetly. This could have been other spies who acted as couriers or units of Roman exploratories who operated in advance of the army. As for the contents of their message, it may have been transmitted orally. However, this had the obvious downside of being lost in translation or subject to leaking. Better to send back information in a written format where it could be hidden or obfuscated. Historical sources mention the use of writing tablets with false covers, scrolls tucked away into the scabbards of daggers, and ciphers such as the one famously employed by Caesar. Uncovering the activities of such spy networks amidst their own ranks was of vital importance to the Romans. Armianus mentions how he and his commander managed to root out a deserter of Gallic origin who had been working as a mole for the Persians on the eastern frontier. Meanwhile, in Spain during the civil wars, we hear of how Caesar's men uncovered a group of enemy speculatores made up of three slaves and a soldier. Often the fate of such men was a swift execution. However, death was not always the best remedy for treachery. A Roman commander could instead spare their life in exchange for information. For example, in the run-up to the Battle of Thapsus in 46 BC, the enemy had sent a pair of Gaetulians among a number of real deserters to Caesar's camp to find out about his plans for countering their war elephants. However, when these men were discovered, Caesar showed clemency, granting them refugee status in exchange for divulging the intentions of their previous masters. Other times, such captured spies might even be induced to defect by a combination of carrot and stick methods, thus becoming double agents who could be sent back to the enemy to undermine their operations. Thus we have seen the intricate game of cat and mouse that was afoot in the field of ancient information warfare. It's a subject that all too often gets overlooked, but which we have been excited to share with you today. Deep within the heart of Rome lay the headquarters of one of the empire's most feared units. Shrouded in mystery, they seem to have begun as humble grain men and couriers. Yet as the tendrils of their reach grew, so too did their ability to covertly enact the will of the emperors. From enforcement and espionage to arrests and assassinations, they are often equated to the CIA or the Secret Service of Antiquity. Yet how much of this legendary reputation can we attribute to fact or fiction? To answer this question, let's explore the history of the frumentarii. The origin of the frumentarii is not well attested to. However, evidence points to them potentially emerging from two pre-existing army duties. The collection of intelligence. We can tackle each in turn. With regards to the collection of grain, the association is quite evident given that the term frumentum in Latin literally translates to grain. Ancient military authors make frequent mention of such frumentum in their campaigns, both in its collection and distribution to the men. Tacitus labels the soldiers tasked with transporting this grain as frumentatores. Caesar's commentaries meanwhile explicitly label them as frumentarii. This would appear to be a clear connection to the frumentarii we are interested in. However, in such early years, the role seems to have been rather ad hoc and not quite as professionalized as their later incarnation. Yet in the decades following the era of Caesar, it seems that the logistical apparatus behind the grain supply gradually matured. We know for instance that in Ostia, Rome's coastal port, a dedication was made by a centurio frumentarius to his superior officer, the prefect of the grain supply. Presumably, such men were part of the important organization established to ensure the masses of Rome received their all-important food supply. A similar logistical group was likely also embedded within each legion's provincial fortress to ensure that it too was fed. Evidence for this appears in the form of a handful of funerary inscriptions, where we see soldiers self-identify as the frumentarius of their legion for the care of the grain supply. Yet the inner workings of these provisioning systems eludes us. What proves more confusing is that around the 2nd century AD, we see frumentarii agents being associated with another parallel collection system, that of intelligence. This apparatus arose from the connective tissue which had grown between the various legions, their local governor's offices, and the central imperial government in Rome. In terms of the legions, these had already evolved a system of professionalized military intelligence. For armies in the field, this ultimately took the form of a three-layered system which included the following. A close range of patrolling procursatories, a mid-range ring of scouting exploratories, and a far-reaching projection of spying speculatories. The existence of such units bred a talented pool of intelligence operatives with a robust set of standards and practices. While their reports and services would have been used by the legionary commander, much would eventually have filtered to the local governor, whose job it was to remain well-informed about his province and its surrounding area. Such legionary reports, combined with additional sources, would then have been compiled, synthesized, and shared up the chain of command to the powers in Rome. This was done via an efficient courier network known as the cursus publicus, which ran across virtually the entire breadth of the empire. Thus, it seems natural that over the years, this intelligence pipeline would gradually develop its own bureaucratic organization. As it did so, the frumentarii seemed to have become involved, as can be seen in funerary depictions, where we see intelligence agents riding atop the messenger carts of Rome's courier network. Ultimately, how these two origin stories, one of men collecting grain and one of men collecting intelligence, may have emerged or evolved into one another is unknown. Yet the overlap between the two roles seems quite natural. After all, the status of the all-important grain supply was, in and of itself, a valuable piece of intelligence. It was also true that the people involved in its collection, the farmers, merchants, and sailors, would have had a pulse on the goings-on of the world. Thus, agents traveling back and forth across the empire to supervise grain logistics or to collect and carry information could easily perform both tasks at once. Evidence of this dual role appears in one of the earliest epigraphic records of the frumentarii. In a letter from an Egyptian archive dated to the early 2nd century AD, a man writes that he had sent a message, quote, which Sopronius Clemens, the frumentarius, will deliver. But, however the frumentarii came to be, from the 2nd century on we have quite clear evidence that they were established as a distinct group of operatives with a base in Rome. Now let us take a look at their organization, headquarters, equipment, and service history. We can begin with their organization. According to various inscriptions, the frumentarii were apparently a collection of soldiers who had been detached from their legions to serve on this special assignment. The entire group, which numbered perhaps anywhere from a few dozen to a hundred or so men, was organized into a unit known as the Numerus Frumentariorum. It was structured in the manner of a regular military force with junior officers, centurions, and an overall commander known as the Princeps Peregrinorum, or chief of the foreigners. From here one could apparently use the position as a stepping stone to seek higher offices. As we shall see, close service to the emperors had its perks and there may even have been a track leading from frumentarii to the vaunted ranks of the praetorians, as is hinted at by Cassius Dio, who attributes the rise of three praetorian prefects to their prior service among the frumentarii. Now let us explore the headquarters of this unit. Though the members of the Numerus Frumentariorum, by necessity, were often dispersed across the empire, they nonetheless shared a central home back in Rome. Located atop the Caelian hill, it was known as the Castra Peregrina, or foreigners' camp. The headquarters appears to have been a facility in a similar manner as the more famous Castra Praetoria of the praetorians. As such, it boasted its own barracks, support structures, and a small shrine. Records facilities may have been present, but it does not seem that the Castra Peregrina functioned as any sort of grand repository for the secrets of Rome. Rather, it would have been the various archives and libraries which housed much of the written work stored in the capital. There was also the Ab Epistolis, or office of the procurator, in charge of imperial correspondence, which may have acted to process information. Yet for most of their history, these institutions were run by civil rather than military figures, with no mention of a connection to the operation of the Frumentarii. Such a state of affairs dampens the idea that any sophisticated central intelligence operation existed in Rome. To the extent that any such apparatus had arisen, it would most likely have been found out in the provinces. After all, it was here that governors were kept up to speed with the latest news of their local area, with the task of acting as a first responder to any pressing matters, rather than waiting for directions from the distant emperors. Though, of course, advice and permission was often sought out. To this end, a governor's headquarters boasted huge records facilities run by military staff officers of the Perhaps the Frumentarii, given their military rank, may have been counted among their number. Such an arrangement would have benefited the emperors, who might get a second set of eyes on the activities of their underlings. But we shall cover these efforts in due time. For now, let's zoom in to get a better look at the members of the Frumentarii up close. In terms of appearance, there may be a temptation to imagine them on two ends of a spectrum. Either with ornate gear befitting their special role, or with extremely clandestine outfits in the manner of some undercover agent. However, what records we do have seem to indicate that the Frumentarii were basically outfitted as regular soldiers. At times, this meant donning their full kit, but otherwise having the liberty to dress down for convenience. There are, however, some hints at identifying pieces of gear. For instance, men who used the courier service on imperial duty were identified by carrying a special lance, known as the Beneficiarius. Perhaps this item made its way into the standard outfit of a Frumentarii agent. Beyond this speculation, we can more confidently expect the usual gradation of distinguishing marks which accompanied the various ranks of the Optios, the Centurions, and the senior commanders. So, what did these Frumentarii do? Unfortunately, we don't have a detailed record, but we can nonetheless sketch an outline based on some clues. This involves the following roles as grain supervisors, couriers, spies, assassins, and agents of law enforcement. Regarding the first two, these duties would have been continuations of the earlier tasks which predated their origin. The fact that such activities continued on when the Frumentarii proper had been established is attested to by both textual and epigraphic records. For instance, in 210 AD, a Centurion of the Frumentarii is helping to coordinate the dredging of a harbour used to offload grain. In 238 AD, during a period of imperial transition, we are told that, quote, a letter sent to all the provinces by means of the Frumentarii ordered that whoever gave assistance to Maximinus would be numbered among the enemy. While we previously mentioned that such grain and courier-related duties tied them to the location of an army, a governor's office, or key ports, it seems that there were also special assignments. One gravestone of an agent, for instance, lists his title not as the Frumentarius of any legion, but as, quote, a Frumentarius of the emperor stationed at Lyon. Thus, we see that they were increasingly being used as tools of the emperor. As such, there were certainly more creative ways one might use them. According to the Historia Augusta, for instance, Hadrian began to use them as domestic spies. The passage reads, quote, for he was inquisitive not only about his own household, but also about his friends, to the point of investigating their secrets through his Frumentarii. By intercepting letters from a senator's wife, Hadrian was apparently able to learn of complaints about the man's indulgent habits in Rome. The ensuing reprimand caught the senator off guard, leaving him to wonder how he had been exposed. Similar stories of domestic spying are reported with regards to the emperors Macrinus and Gallienus. Frumentarii apparently also listened in at the games and theatres to hear what the public had to say. That this sort of operation took place is not surprising. After all, in days past, the senators of the republic had employed their own systems to spy on the businesses and households of their rivals. Naturally, the most powerful man in Rome did the same. But this need not only had been used to sniff out potential threats. Such information was generally useful for the proper management of the empire's human resources. Who might best be promoted, transferred, or demoted were all as important decisions to make as who might best be killed. Yet this last option was not ruled out. Indeed, we have several links to the Frumentarii being used as assassins. During the reign of Commodus, for instance, Praetorian prefects had apparently wished to eliminate an individual and, quote, murdered him as he was returning to his estate by means of the Frumentarii. Other mentions of assassinations are a bit less explicit. In 195 AD, for example, we hear vaguely that some agents had been dispatched to Britain to assassinate the pretender Clodius Albinus. Their identity as Frumentarii is thus assumed rather than confirmed. Another intriguing story comes during the reign of Emperor Severus when a certain centurion named Achilles, notorious as the assassin of senators, was sent by his enemies to kill the monarch. Contemporary writings, meanwhile, identify a by the name of Marcus Achilles Felix, who was a centurion of the Frumentarii. Though it may be a coincidence, linking the two seems plausible. Ultimately, however, it is difficult to determine whether these sorts of assassinations were a standard service of the Frumentarii or rather a reflection of the desires of the powers in charge who wished to wield them as such. One might imagine that the out-in-the-open nature of the Frumentarii may have undermined their ability to act as spies or assassins. However, the very fact that they appeared to act as logistics officers and couriers may have deferred some suspicion. One might also imagine that on missions of subterfuge, they were given enough resources and leeway to recruit others to help them. To this end, the use of deletores or informants may have been standard procedure. But such work in the shadows is unlikely to have been recorded and thus remains pure speculation. Finally, we must mention yet one more role which we see associated with the Frumentarii, that of law-enforcer. This comes to us from scattered sources. An edict from the 3rd century AD, for example, records how the Frumentarii quote, arrested nine, put them in chains, and sent them to the equestrian procurator. Such arrests are most commonly attested to in the era of Christian persecutions. The author Eusebius tells of one case where a Frumentarius was sent to hunt down a man by the name of Dionysius. The Christian reportedly hid away in his home for four days, while the agent prowled the streets, rivers, and fields looking for him. In other writings, Saint Cyprian reports that he had to flee from Frumentarii sent to arrest him, while the disciple Paul was supervised by a Frumentarius while awaiting trial in Rome. Yet they were not uniquely seen as feared enforcers. Arrests and assistance in peacekeeping operations also could be appreciated. For example, inscriptions mention how Frumentarii were actually called upon in several instances to intervene on behalf of rural communities facing harassment from soldiers and other troublemakers. Beyond this, we have even more mentions of the odd jobs taken up by Frumentarii across the empire. One ran a prison in Anatolia, one supervised building activity in Delphi, and one raised emergency city walls in Salona. Thus we see how the Frumentarii were a quite flexible organization, whose agents could be dispatched by the emperor or his governors to take on a range of roles on a quite ad hoc basis. Ultimately, however, it seems that this sort of runaway scope creep proved their undoing. By the end of the 3rd century, they had begun to run rampant with a notorious reputation for trouble. The ancient author Aurelius Victor claims that, quote, they had apparently been set up to investigate and report on any potential rebellions in the provinces, and by their wicked concoction of accusations and by spreading fear everywhere, particularly in the most remote areas, they caused the most awful disruption to everything. The end result was that their organization would be disbanded by a diocletian. Yet, the need for such a security and information service did not disappear. Thus it was that they would eventually be replaced by the more rigidly controlled and bureaucratized institutions of the late empire, such as that of the agentes in Rebus. However, their story shall have to wait for another time. We hope you've appreciated this deep dive into the ancient intelligence services of the Roman Empire. You can catch script previews and grab HD downloads of all our art by supporting us on Patreon and YouTube memberships. 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