Was there a Middle Class in Ancient Rome?

Ancient Rome had nothing like the large middle classes of modern capitalist societies. Outside the elite, most were poor. There was, however, a small but prominent segment of the population poised between affluence and poverty, which exhibited some of the traits and aspirations that we associate with the middle class. Formally, the Roman elite consisted of three social orders—senators, equestrians, and decurians. At a time when most Romans earned less than 1,000 sestertii a year, senators were required to have fortunes of at least a million. Equestrians had to be worth half a million. The minimum for decurians—members of the councils that governed provincial cities—was often 100,000 sestertii, though less would suffice in a small settlement. Although the three aristocratic orders only made up about 1% of the population, they controlled, by one recent estimate, almost a quarter of the empire's wealth. According to that same estimate, however, perhaps 10% of those outside the elite could be defined as moderately prosperous. This Roman equivalent of the middle class did not have a collective identity or consciousness. From the perspective of the elite, however, its members shared a lack of respectability. Roman aristocrats liked to believe that wealth was only part of their preeminence. They set great stock in their lineage. They attended the best rhetorical schools. They had—they assured themselves—good taste. Politics was a suitable career for a Roman gentleman. So was advocacy in the courts. A gentleman might invest in mercantile and industrial enterprises, but only discreetly. He could be denied a place in the Senate if it was known that his wealth derived from such sordid means. The only really respectable source of income was the sale of produce from landed estates. Virtually every other occupation was unbecoming. The vulgar professions, according to Cicero, included paid labor, which was akin to slavery, buying and selling, since these involved deceit, the crafts—it was unseemly to work with one's hands—and the production of anything that appeased the base appetites. Actors and dancers were beneath contempt. Architects, doctors, and teachers, on the other hand, were respectable, but such careers were only suitable for freedmen. Some of the jobs, so casually dismissed by Cicero, paid well. Skilled craftsmen could become prosperous, especially if they worked with gold, silver, or jewels. So could merchants who dealt with luxuries, such as spices and silk, or even with commodities like garum. The atrium of Umbricius Scaurus, who owned one of the finest mansions in Pompeii, was splashed with advertisements for his top-grade mackerel sauce. Ultimately, only fine gradations of snobbery separated the lower reaches of the aristocracy from the most prosperous members of the sub-elite. The middle and upper classes are difficult to disentangle, even in the archaeological record. At Pompeii, both modest private houses, like the Casa del Armasimo and relatively spacious apartments, such as the Canocula Equestria in the insula Ariana Poliana, have been described, rightly or wrongly, as middle class. Whether or not these labels were accurate remains unclear. Artifacts like aretineware—glazed pottery that imitated gold and silver vessels—have also been associated with moderate prosperity. Ultimately, however, no aspect of material culture can be automatically linked with a middle class. We can only say that, at Pompeii and many other sites, evidence exists for a substantial group of sub-elite consumers with disposable income. If you have a bit of disposable income, I encourage you to support the fourth and final kickstarter of Romanus Magici. This exciting comic about a former legionary who stumbles upon a plot to destroy the Roman Empire promises to close in spectacular fashion as Marcus and his newfound friends rush to save one of their own from a grim fate and try to stop a rite of dark magic that will annihilate the city of Rome if left unchecked. Follow the link in the description to kickstart the thrilling conclusion of Romanus Magici. The creators thank you in advance for all your interest and support. Returning to our topic. In the city of Rome, the middle class seems to have consisted largely of freedmen. Although the evidence is skewed by the fact that freedmen were exceptionally likely to build monumental tombs, the prosperity they achieved was real. Many elite families set up slaves as shopkeepers and skilled craftsmen. Once these slaves had bought or been granted their freedom, they maintained close ties and sometimes business partnerships with their former owners, giving them an advantage over freeborn competitors. The wealthy freedman was a stock character in Roman literature. Juvenal describes one who owned five shops in Rome and earned 400,000 sestertii a year. In Petronius's Satyricon, the freedman Trimalchio claims to be worth 30 million and says that the size of his fortune will be inscribed on his tomb. This was barely satire. The epitaph of a real freedman in Rome, a former dealer of goatskins, enumerated the fruits of his wealth. A house of marble, alms for the poor, and a mausoleum set aside in perpetuity for the descendants of his own former slaves. The tomb of another freedman, trained as a doctor and surgeon, carefully listed the sums he had paid for his liberty, for membership on a civic board, and for benefactions to his adopted city. Many freedmen advertised their occupations on their tombs. The gravestone of Gaius Julius Helius, a cobbler, was graced with shoes. Marcus Virgilius Ierysaces, who made bread for recipients of the public grain dole, had reliefs of baking carved in his mausoleum. Although freedmen were prominent in many places outside Rome, the middle classes of cities close to the frontier tended to be dominated by veterans. Legionaries earned about as much as skilled craftsmen and received a equivalent to a decade's pay in either cash or land. Their officers, paid up to 50 times more than regular soldiers, left the army wealthy men. Some veterans made themselves merchants, selling swords or pottery near their former camps. Many more became farmers, often on a substantial scale. A papyrus from Oxyrhynchus in Egypt, for example, mentions a veteran who owned lands with more than a dozen tenants. Another Egyptian veteran, Lucius Bellinus Gemellus, had properties in several villages and routinely sent gifts and bribes to local officials. Like freedmen, veterans often advertised their prosperity with impressive tombs. A well-known example is the temple mausoleum of Lucius Publicius, decked with sphinxes and Corinthian columns, which still dominates the Romano-Germanic Museum of Cologne. Some veterans rose to the rank of town councilors. A former primipilus, First Centurion, became a decurion of several cities in Pannonia. Another officer became such a fixture of local government that his adopted city of Capua honored him with a gilded statue. The epitaph of Lucius Gavius Fronto, who had served as a primipilus and camp prefect, records that his son was an important imperial official and that his grandson had been made a Roman senator. For a few families, being middle class was a one- or two-generation prelude to joining the elite. But hundreds of thousands never made the leap. They continued to work as craftsmen or farmers, living in comfortable houses and buying affordable luxuries. Or they settled back, after a brief taste of prosperity, into the anonymous multitudes of the poor. If you're among the anonymous multitudes of my subscribers, why not make yourself stand out by joining the Tollenstone Patreon, where more historical delights await. You'll find a link in the description, along with a link to my upcoming tour of Greece. In the unlikely event that you're still watching, allow me to also urge a visit to my other channels, all too frequently overlooked. Tollenstone Footnotes and Scenic Routes to the Past. Thanks for watching.