In the early winter of AD 101, Caesar’s emissary arrived in Rome. Hadrian, a young man of only 25, and a relative of the emperor, Trajan, had ridden directly from the field. He bore missives for the senate. Senators, listening to Hadrian report on the great victories won by Roman arms, could feel themselves transplanted to a more distant and heroic age. Trajan, the man who only three years previously had ascended to the rule of Rome, appeared a stirringly old-fashioned figure. The qualities he put on public display - plainness and self-discipline, affability and lack of pretension - were the very markers of an antique hero.
In the Dacians, a martial people of eastern Europe whom he had spent all year breaking to the Roman yoke, Trajan had adversaries who, in a similar manner, appeared conjured up from ancient annals. They were strange and menacing and terrible: men who wielded scythes in battle as though they were cutting corn; who bore standards shaped in the form of dragons; who wrote messages on giant mushrooms. All these were the details reported by Hadrian to the senate.
As news of Trajan’s dispatches began to percolate out through the city, the Roman people were swept by a mood of excitement such as they had not known for a long while. “For under the rule of sluggish emperors, they seemed to have grown old and enfeebled; but now, under the rule of Trajan, they were stirring themselves afresh, and contrary to every