The Wars of Marcus Aurelius

Spring, 172 AD.

The Danube rushes past the log walls of a legionary fort.

At a bend, where a pontoon bridge has been thrown across the river, a line of soldiers

marches into barbarian territory.

Standard bearers and trumpeters lead the way, followed by troops in plate armor, a squadron

of the Praetorian Guard, and finally Emperor Marcus Aurelius himself, distinguished by

his long general’s cloak.

At the first marching camp, the army, now joined by troops of cavalry, assembles to

watch the emperor perform the traditional sacrifice of purification.

A courier, bearing news of the barbarians’ movements, rushes into the camp.

Warned of the enemy’s proximity, the legions set forth, burning barbarian fields and villages

as they march.

Barbarian outriders are captured, interrogated, and executed.

At a river deep in the German forests, the Romans encounter a small party of barbarians,

who pelt the emperor and his guards with sling stones before melting into the woods.

Shortly thereafter, a large barbarian force surrounds the Roman camp.

The Germans roll a siege tower forward; but miraculously, just before it reaches the camp

wall, it is incinerated by a lightning bolt.

A sortie scatters the barbarians.

The Romans cross a stream in the teeth of barbarian opposition, and pursue war bands

through trackless mountains.

And so on and on as the reliefs of the Column of Marcus Aurelius spiral upward.

Roman soldiers march in neat ranks, barbarians die, villages burn – and through it all,

the emperor stands aloof - godlike and alone.

Though intended to emphasize his quasi-divine power, this representation neatly evokes the

austere personality of Rome’s philosopher-emperor.

Marcus Aurelius was a stoic.

He believed that virtue was the only good, and that the essence of virtue lay in self-governance:

that, in short, it was imperative to accept, without joy or sorrow, all things beyond one’s

control.

Over his long years of campaigning, he jotted down – apparently for his eyes only – the

series of moral reflections we know as his Meditations.

In this philosophical diary, Marcus reminds himself to accept misfortune with understanding,

to never fear death, and to always be mindful of his duties.

One is left with the picture of a thoughtful and rather melancholy man, doggedly pursuing

moral perfection.

Marcus had begun his studies of Stoicism in childhood when, as a distant relative of Hadrian,

he had been tutored by the foremost scholars in the Empire.

We still possess some of Marcus’ letters to his tutor Fronto, which show a precocious