Legend of Rasinari, Resin City and a Roman Soldier’s Payslip

The legend of how Rășinari, the resin city by Sibiu, Transylvania, came to be named sprang to mind when I read about the meager payslip of a roman soldier – a 2 000 years old papyrus discovered during excavations at Masada. Yet some legends stem from life…

The Legend of Rășinari, the Resin City

Long ago, so long that the words then spoken are now mere tails on a cloud, and the laughter and the war cries then voiced are now the whispers echoing after the thunder… that long ago, the people who lived on the land known Romania called themselves Dacians.

Life was as good as it could be in a land with rich soil, lush pastures, cool forests, and an abundance of fresh water. They live here, on the hills of Coastei Boacii:

Two villages (davas) we know of, and each one was near a river: Râudava and Copidava. From Copidava, that was perched atop the hill, from its watch tower, those men who were not looking after the sheep, or chopping wood, or crafting tools and mending homes, those few but mighty were in charge with keeping their small communities safe. So, from the top of the tallest building, perhaps the tower of a temple, they’d scrutinize far and wide, over known pastures and passes, and over the less known ones too. Watching out for danger that might come – as it did – like a rhythmic thunder, like a killer lightning, like a roaring storm. The Romans…

Mornings would begin with the smile of a branch, a tremor when first bird took flight, and the song of a rooster while thin smoke climbed through chimneys like a prayer for heavens, like thanks for the bread that was baked, the family that was snug and warm, the comforting scents and sights of everyday life. Men would kiss their wives, hug their babes, place bread and cheese in their day bags, and go out and about to their chores. While none would think, or guess, that it might be the last they’ve seen of each other. The last meal they shared. The last embrace in times of peace. The last of life, as they’ve known it.

Life can change as a leaf is turned over by fickle wind.

One day, stormy clouds rose on the horizon. They billowed towards their peaceful lands. Day became as dark as night. The watchmen lifted their bugles, long and heavy as they were, muscles coiling under their tunics, chests puffing, sucking in air for the sake of life… blowing their tulnic, the one meant for peaceful Sunday celebrations but trusted for its low, sonorous call, used for imminent danger. They sounded the alarm. Everyone in Râudava and Copidava heard. Women held their breath, half hoping they heard wrong. Elders packed away their goods, a mere handful. Older children picked up their siblings. All ran to safety. To the sanctuary of wood. To the forest.

Everyone, but the men.

Then, it rained and it hailed, but not from heavens. The Roman army thundered in rhythm ascending the slope, shoulder to shoulder, like one mighty, angry, but deadly silent beast. The villagers waited, hands squeezing the handles of axes, of rakes. Sweaty on the wood poles they’d known all their lives. The ones they cut from the woods after choosing that one mighty tree with healthy timber, and prayed for forgiveness before chopping it down. The ones they carved surrendered by their kin. The ones blessed by their priest. While a few of them, the warriors, tried to tame their mighty falx, hungry for fight, with both hands.

When the war cries burst it is said that the trees in the forest creaked and moaned. From the Roman side rose a harsh, intermittent roar amplified by the hollows of their shields held in front of their mouths. It grew to a climax before exploding into a gruesome bellow that made the ground shake. The barritus!

From the Dacian side to the low, thundering call of their bugle came the banging of wood against wood, creating enough havoc to spook the Roman horses. The Dacian army surged forward against their invading Roman assailants, fearless in their attack for in death they knew to enter the promised realms of their god Zalmoxis – and become immortals.

So eager were the Dacian men to meet and be done with the Roman attackers that it is said the first row of Roman soldiers faltered in their advance. So fearless were the Dacians in their fight, unafraid of death, that many Romans remembered their valiant spirit.

That time, from one hundred men who hurried into battle alongside their King Decebalus, only fifteen returned, surrounded by Roman legionaries.

The wind of change blew the leaf and life was forever altered.

Soon enough, the huts were replaced with buildings made of stone, fashioned after the Roman style, but carried uphill by Dacians. The dusty roads and the grassy paths were replaced with well thought-out Roman roads. And tall, sturdy observation points soon rose at Râutelus şi Copicelius.

The Roman army came, conquered, and remained. Long after grass covered the blood of war and the dead were buried and cried after, and on both sides, the Roman soldiers built a life in Dacia. Many were strangers on a strange land, away from their people, their loved ones, and their traditions. Uprooted and marooned in a foreign land. Among forests, when they had known the sea life, and the open horizons. Some Roman soldiers, they say, were from the shores of the the Adriatic and the Tyrrhenian seas. From families of sailors and boat builders. Perhaps in their youth, before necessity threw them out and war grabbed them, they even helped built a boat. Felt the freedom and pride a self-made object bestowed upon one’s soul. Maybe such Roman soldiers took the forest path, once, in search of a secluded spot where to make sense of their new life.

Perhaps they felt the wind on their battered faces and closed their eyes imagining, for a moment, that they’re back home. That they never left. Would their life had been any different?

Perhaps their hand rested against the trunk of a fir tree and it brushed past a blob, smooth and hard, and golden, that felt, smelled, and looked familiar. Resin! And they would have remembered, holding the gooey amber against the sun, what treasure they’d found. How life-saving a well sealed boat is, never mind a ship. A might war ship!

Soon, everyone in the villages of Râutelus şi Copicelius learned that the Roman soldiers gather the resin in wooden pots and, hard as it seemed, sent it home, along the blue shores of Adriatic and Tyrrhenian seas. For it was that important for their people left behind. Or was it their longing that heavy?

This free gift of the trees growing in a foreign land, abundant and available to all, was the most precious item the Roman soldiers chose to sent back home, to their kin.

Soon enough craftsmen traveled up north, over the great waters of Danube, and over the Carpathians, to collect this precious golden sap and bring it home. On seeing such high demand, some Dacians gave up their herding sheep and began collecting resin, reşina, selling it to the avid merchants who, in turn, called them Reşinăreni, resin-people who lived where today still stands the village of Rășinari.

Reading a Roman Soldier’s Payslip

After so many years in the army and so many battles, why would Roman soldier chose resin to send back home? Were they not paid enough?

The payslip of a Roman legionary soldier dated nearly 30 years earlier tells us the truth.

A detailed military paycheck issued to a Roman legionary soldier during the First Jewish-Roman War in AD 72 was recently unearthed by archaeologists at Masada. Masada is a rough cliff in the Judean Desert overlooking the Dead Sea. Herod, the first-century BCE Judean king best known for constructing Jerusalem’s Temple Mount complex, built a fortress and palace here.

The payslip mentions the stipendium, the payment a Roman soldier received and only three times a year. The amount paid is of 50 denarii out of which the Roman legionary soldier, named Gaius Messius, already owed 16 denarii for barley for his horse – which he really needed if we consider that his kit bag weighed about 30 kilograms – as much as a modern day soldier fighting in Afghanistan is expected to carry on his shoulders. Gaius Messius also owed 20 denarii for food, as well as some denarii for a cloak and a white tunic.
Not much left to send back home…

A #Roman military payslip found in a Roman camp at Masada (Israel), issued nearly 2000 years ago to a soldier named Gaius Messius. It reveals that he was paid 50 denarii, but had to hand much of it back to the army in payment for food, clothes, boots, & barley (📷 Marco Prins) pic.twitter.com/oTbloxfHhA

— Dr Jo Ball (@DrJEBall) September 18, 2022

The perks of being a Roman soldier

When a Roman soldier retired from the Roman Army with an honorable discharge after 25 years of service he was granted (for himself, as well as his wife and children) Roman citizenship with all the benefits that it brought – land or financial gratuity.
It seems that during the Roman Empire, just like today, citizenship was a valued possession of any individual.
You can learn more about the life of a Roman soldier here.

Writing and Reading about Ancient Rome and Dacia

You can enjoy more stories inspired by ancient Rome and how the Roman Empire shaped the history of Dacia, today Romania, in both my latest historical fiction books with stories in exactly 100 words:

Read Dacian Horses of Bronze Age ~ Echoes of a Battle, the Getae ! Falx vs Gladius, Daoi vs Romans ~ Greed, of the Roman Kind ~ Hope Has Multiple Faces )and many more) in Transylvania’s History A to Z .

Enjoy Caring for a Friend ~ Elusive Decebalus and the Strei Treasure ~ King Decebalus, Born in Fagaras ~ Girl Warrior ~ War Science, Know your Opponent ~ Dacian Stronghold Underneath Rupea Fortress ~ Glaring and Grabbing, the Draco Flag ~A Dacian Temple in Fagaras Mountains ~ Dacians then, Today Foresters ~Envious Dochia, a Spring Legend (and any more) in Dreamland.

Sources for this article:
Rance, Philip (2015) War Cry, https://onlinelibrary.wiley.com/doi/full/10.1002/9781118318140.wbra1621
Dr. Ball, J (2019) Twitter, https://armyofromanpalestine.com/0022
Garland R., PhD, https://www.wondriumdaily.com/roman-soldier-life-in-the-army-and-beyond/
Sibiu News, https://sibiunews.net/