Coin struck to commemorate Alexander as Pont. Max., A.D. 221 (British Museum).
This is the only rational view to take of the Emperor’s apparent gullibility, as Antonine was far too quick-witted not to have scented trouble in any scheme, however specious, to which his aunt was party. He had already heard of her dealings with the soldiers, and of the money that she was spending with a purpose: obviously he saw in the adoption a loophole for his own escape, and at the same time for her undoing. His friends may have warned him to look out for rocks ahead. They knew that the boy was dealing with two able and crafty women made desperate by their continual disappointments; if so, he must have refused to listen to them, for some time early in July Antonine took his cousin Alexianus to the Senate, and there, in the presence of the women, this boy of sixteen summers went through the ceremony of adopting the child of twelve. He then solemnly declared his intention of training his son himself, fitting him for the business of Empire early, in order that he might be free from solicitudes about a successor. Now, this was by no means Mamaea’s plan, and caused endless friction in the working.
Antonine obviously thought that some explanation of his decision was needed, and had the audacity to tell the assembled fathers that he was acting on the commands of the great God, who had designated Alexianus as the successor to the name and Empire of Severus,—this on the basis of a bastardy almost as probable as his own.
The name Alexander, which was then imposed upon Alexianus, is accounted for both by Lampridius and Dion by two equally untrue and mutually contradictory stories. Lampridius says that the boy was born in the temple of Alexander at Arca, on the birthday of Alexander of Macedon, 18th June 208; as a matter of fact he was not born until the 1st October of that year, and it was highly improbable that a woman in the social position of Mamaea would allow an accident of the kind to happen in so public and unprepared a position. Dion accounts for the new name by relating the miraculous return from the dead of the Macedonian king, and his spectral journey through Thrace, where he buried a wooden horse which has not since been found,—neither has the consonance of the story been established, for that matter. The real reason for the change of name was perfectly simple; it was in memory of the devotion which Caracalla, his putative father, had always testified towards King Alexander of Macedon.
The ages of the two principal figures in this ceremony form the peg on which Lampridius hangs not a few jeers. Perhaps it was absurd, but far more unnatural things had been extolled: witness Septimius’ adoption of the defunct Marcus Aurelius as his father, which was certainly an even less possible performance in the natural order of generation. If Lampridius jeered later, no one did so at the time; in fact, we are led to infer that all men were pleased. The soldiers, because Mamaea had made it worth their while to adopt that attitude; the Senate, because they expected consideration from a little milksop brought up entirely at his mother’s apron-strings; the people, because it was the occasion for Antonine’s fourth congiary. Singularly enough, there is again no mention made of a donative, or distribution of money to the soldiers, which seems unfortunate.
It is difficult to ascertain the exact date of the adoption. Herodian’s statement of the year 220 is easily refuted, both by epigraphic and numismatic evidence. These give, as near as possible, 10th July in the year 221, by means of the following deductions:—(1st) The fasti of a priestly college, probably the Sodales Antoniniani, dated either 2nd or 10th July in that year, describe Alexianus as “Marcus Aurelius Alexander Nobilissimus Caesar,” and either Imperii consors or heres, on which discrepancy of words hangs a future tale; (2nd) the earliest Alexandrian coins which call Alexianus Caesar are dated LΕ, or subsequent to 29th August 221; (3rd) there is an inscription found amongst those of the 7th Cohort of the Vigiles, which was set up on 1st June of that year, and commemorates the Imperatores Antoninus et Alexander. The earliest date is therefore 1st June, the latest the end of July or beginning of August. The probabilities lie between the two, as the early police inscription has been accounted for on the grounds that, along with her money, Mamaea had circulated a report of the adoption before it took place. The numismatic evidence points to a middle date, because, as far as we can judge, the Alexandrian mint was most expedite in issuing its coins, and here, if the adoption took place early in June, they would seem to have allowed a month or so to elapse between the time they got the news and the first issue of the coins. Other mints also issued their first coins, calling Alexander Caesar, towards the end of 221.
The one official decree is that of the Sodales. It is defective in its designation, and has caused much disagreement both as to Alexander’s position once he was adopted, as well as about the date of the ceremony itself. At any rate, until more definite information comes to hand, we are forced to be content with the generally received date, somewhere about 10th July. The next question is as to the position of Alexander after that date, in the year 221. Certainly Maesa and Mamaea intended to have him “Imperii consors.” As far as we can judge, both from the statement in the Senate and from his subsequent proceedings in the state, Antonine’s intention was to adopt an “Imperii heres”; now, this was a very different matter, and entirely nullified the major part of the plan of the schemers. Antonine certainly did defeat their plot in part by refusing to give Alexander any governmental powers. This is certain from the fact that on no coin does Alexander appear with the imperial insignia (the laurel wreath) before the month of March 222, though the titles which he received at his adoption—Augustus, Imperator, and Caesar—are frequently used before that date, because Antonine never had the least objection to other people using titles, so long as he kept the power. Maesa and Mamaea must have been wild with rage at having gained so little; they had shaken hands repeatedly, and congratulated themselves so often because Samson had at last delivered himself bound into their hands and henceforth they were in permanent possession of the administration, that it must have been a very disagreeable awakening when they found that their plan had not succeeded.
If we can believe anything that Lampridius says, we would judge that Maesa was now genuinely frightened. She thought that Antonine’s religious mistake had created a real wave of bad feeling in the city, and that, if anything should happen to the reigning Emperor, her position would be gone for good and all. Now, the last thing that she had a mind to do was to return to provincial obscurity. With a patience and determination worthy of a better cause, she set to work to gain for herself, and incidentally for Alexander also, what had not accrued when the adoption took place. As far as we can judge from the coins, Maesa had only managed at that time to obtain his association with Antonine as Pontifex Maximus, thereby lessening the Emperor’s authority over the Roman cults, for which he had shown so little respect. One thing was, however, satisfactory: Alexander was “out”; people knew about him in Rome; he was the heir designate, and, as such, a most useful lever in the hands of the unscrupulous.