To meet such an increasing need for information, the imperial government never ceased to improve its courses of action to secure it. Even if the cursus publicus did not improve its speed, it was carefully kept under imperial control. Both its functions, carrying goods directed to the fiscus or the res privata and transmitting information, were of crucial importance for the emperor. The many texts of the Theodosian Code dealing with this matter repeat that the provinces were responsible for the expenses of maintaining the cursus publicus (paying for the animals, their food, probably the buildings) - and a heavy responsibility it was - but it remained strictly under imperial control, run and controlled by imperial agents, all its employees, mule drivers, wagoners, or veterinarians paid by the emperor (Cod. Theod. 8. 5. 31). Even more important, the emperor was careful to control the quality and the number of people allowed to use the cursus. Warrants could be given only by imperial authority, under the control of agentes in rebus specially charged with this task. If there was any doubt about the authenticity of a warrant, only judges could decide ( Cod. Theod. 8. 5. 8, AD 354; 8. 5. 8, ad 357; 8. 5. 12, ad 362; 8. 5. 22, ad 365; 8. 5. 32, ad 371). One obvious goal of such a policy was to spare the resources of the state, but another, no less important, was to authenticate the messengers as representing the emperor.
The techniques of administration became more sophisticated, but in practice, much depended on the local political situation. In the east, the cursus publicus underwent many reforms during the reign of Leo and Justinian, mostly aimed at reducing the cost (Leo: Cod. Just. 12. 50. 22;1 Justinian: Nov. 17. 9; 134. 1; see Stoffel 1994: 159-60). The historian Procopius of Caesarea disapproved greatly of Justinian’s reform:
For the Roman Emperors of earlier times, by way of making provision that everything should be reported to them speedily and be subject to no delay, - such as the damage inflicted by the enemy upon each several country, whatever befell the cities in the course of civil conflict, or of some unforeseen calamity, the acts of the magistrates and of all others in every part ofthe Roman Empire - and also, to the end that those who conveyed the annual taxes might reach the capital safely and without delay or risk, had created a swift public post extending everywhere, in the following manner. (Procop. Anecdota,
30. 2)
In this passage, Procopius clearly underlines the link between the cursus uelox and the cursus clabularius devoted to heavy transports of goods. The link between taxation and information was more than the sharing of the same postal system.
In the west, local situations were more varied. In Britain, according to archaeological evidence, the post stations were abandoned already at the end of the third century, and only a few were restored in the fourth century (Black 1995: 76-88). In Italy, the cursus publicus is often said to have collapsed at the end of the fifth century but, if this was the case, it was restored by the Gothic king Theoderic, who was well aware of its importance: ‘‘ to it both the efficiency of the embassies and the speed of our decisions are secured: it supplies efficiency to our royal power through various orders; it enriches our treasure by frequent collections’’ (Cassiod. Var. 5. 5; see Stoffel 1994: 157-9). In Africa, the Vandals made some use of it after they conquered Proconsularis, as did the Visigoths in Spain and the Burgundians in Gaul (Africa: Diesner 1968; Spain: Arce 1990; Burgundy: Ganshof 1928: 81 n. 6). It would be misleading to say that the collapse of the cursus publicus disrupted the flow of information. As we shall see later, it was rather the change of interest in news - what specialists in information sciences sometimes call ‘‘newsworthiness’’ - that lay behind that collapse.
The centralized organization of the cursus publicus went hand in hand with the development of the body known as the agentes in rebus. Probably created under the Tetrarchy to replace the hated frumentarii, their functions were complex, but most often related to political control: junior agents served as horseback couriers; they could then serve in almost all the major offices of the empire; they depended on the magister officorum and were renowned for their efficiency, their esprit de corps, and their corruption (Stoffel 1994: 135-7; Carrie 1999). Ammianus paints a dark picture of them as people always involved in political plots and other intrigues (Amm. Marc. 14. 11; 15. 3; 15. 5). The emperor Julian disliked them and reduced their number, but it grew again after his death. Recent historical research has proved that they were not ‘‘secret agents,’’ as old translations often call them, being much more versatile civil servants; but their nickname of curiosi proves how important gathering information was among their other tasks (Giardina 1977; Carrie 1999).
A law of AD 430 reduced their number to 1,174, possibly both for east and west ( Cod. Theod. 6. 27. 23), but another under the reign of Leo (ad 457-74) set it at 1,248 (Cod. Iust. 12. 20. 3) for the east only (they didn’t exist any more in the west). Their increasing number and importance is inseparable from the permanent effort to improve the administration that is so characteristic of the Late Roman Empire. A. H. M. Jones considered such a feature one of the major causes of the decline of the Roman Empire: it is now often seen as one of its major achievements (Jones 1964: 401-10; 601-6; Kelly 2004: 1-7).
On the other hand, information probably remained a more basic element in the conduct of foreign relations. Foreign embassies were sent only on specific occasions, to prevent war or to negotiate some isolated problem; being a diplomat was not a profession, not even a recognized specific skill (Lee 1993: 32-48). Interior embassies from cities to the imperial court were still paid for by municipal authorities, and were usually forbidden to use the cursus publicus: the emperor preferred to rely on the reports of imperial officers rather than having to deal directly with provincials. This did not prevent provincials sending petitions, either to the governor or, less often, directly to the emperor. Such a course of action was not always successful, as the famous affair of the count Romanus suffices to demonstrate. When Lepcis Magna was attacked by nomadic tribes in ad 363 and could not get the help of the Roman army led by the comes per Africam Romanus, the provincial council sent two legates to the emperor Valentinian, then in Trier, ‘‘to tell him fearlessly of the lamentable ruin of the province,’’ bring a complaint against the comes, and ask for help. This first embassy only launched an inquiry. A second one, sent in ad 365, when the first legates had yet to return home, fared even worse: one of the legates died in Trier, and two others were condemned to have their tongues cut out. Even though they managed to flee in time to avoid the terrible penalty, their failure was patent (Amm. Marc. 28. 6. 5-28; see Coskun 2004). At the same period, however, petitions were common and imperial legislation was often an answer to letters or suggestiones from officials or sometimes from private persons (Millar 2002a). In this last case, especially in the east, the author of the petition was most often an ecclesiastical figure, bishop or holy man, who was able to inform the emperor directly of local problems. The case of Appion, bishop of Syene in Upper Egypt, is well known: he asked Theodosius II to place more troops in southern Egypt, and obtained direct satisfaction when the dux of the Thebaid received orders as Appion had asked (Millar 2002a).
Political fragmentation in the west had other consequences for patterns of political information. We know very little of their inner organization during Late Antiquity; what had previously come within the scope of ordinary administrative business (like reports from governors to the emperor, petitions, etc.) became, instead, a matter of diplomatic relations. Andrew Gillett has recently stressed the similarities between internal and external embassies, suggesting that the latter were actually not very different from the former (Gillett 2003: 6). But even if the vocabulary and the procedures stayed more or less unchanged, their incidence changed, as well as the occasions and the level of decision. As Gillett writes, ‘‘Embassies and envoys were important during the fragmentation of the West because disunity gives rise not only to conflict but also to communication’’ (Gillett 2003: 3). Instead of a centralized pattern of information, to and from the capital, a pattern of multilateral communication emerged, probably much nearer to the modern concept of diplomacy than foreign embassies in the Roman Empire.
World History
