Studia Lesco Mrozewicz dedicata

Transcription

Studia Lesco Mrozewicz dedicata
STUDIA
LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
Publikacje Instytutu Historii UAM
103
STUDIA
LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata

S R
C B  C K
Instytut Historii UAM
Poznań 2011
© Copyright by Instytut Historii UAM, Poznań 2011
Redakcja i łamanie: Sebastian Ruciński
Projekt okładki: Piotr Namiota
ISBN 978-83-89407-92-4
Instytut Historii UAM
ul. Święty Marcin 78
61–809 Poznań
tel./faks 61 829 47 25
e-mail: [email protected]
www.historia.amu.edu.pl
DRUK:
Zakład Graficzny UAM
ul. Wieniawskiego 1
61–712 Poznań
LESZEK MROZEWICZ
viro illustrissimo ac humanissimo
lesco mrozewicz
universitatis studiorum
mickiewiczianae posnaniensis
et universitatis studiorum
casimiri magni bydgostiensis
professori ordinario
graecorum et romanorum
historiae antiquae experto
aetatis suae annos lx celebranti
amici discipulique quos olim
ipse antiquitatis studiis
egregie initiavit
hoc munusculo oblato
ex animi sententia
gratulantur
TABULA GRATULATORIA
Krzysztof A (Gniezno)
Emilia AT (Bydgoszcz)
Hanna A (Toruń)
Paweł A (Gniezno)
Katarzyna B (Poznań)
Krystyna B (Poznań)
Anna B (Poznań)
Piotr B (Rzeszów)
Konrad B (Poznań)
Zdzisław B (Bydgoszcz)
Ewa B (Poznań)
Maria C (Gniezno)
Mariusz C (Bydgoszcz)
Ilona C (Poznań)
Jerzy D (Poznań)
Edward D (Kraków)
Dariusz D (Bydgoszcz)
Rafał D (Poznań)
Józef D (Poznań)
Ewa DS (Bydgoszcz)
Kazimierz D (Gniezno)
Marian D (Poznań)
Michał D (Bydgoszcz)
Dorota D (Gniezno)
Sylwester D (Poznań)
Zbigniew D (Poznań)
Piotr D (Warszawa)
Maria D (Kraków)
Anna D (Gniezno)
Paulina F (Gniezno)
Maciej F (Poznań)
Aneta F (Leeds)
Maciej F (Poznań)
Aneta F (Leeds)
Rafał G (Poznań)
Ewa G (Gniezno)
Andrzej G (Zielona Góra)
Anea GP
(Bydgoszcz)
Lech G (Gniezno)
Witold G (Bydgoszcz)
Katarzyna GJ
(Bydgoszcz)
Maksymilian G (Bydgoszcz)
Eliza G (Gniezno)
Jerzy H (Poznań)
Przemysław H (Poznań)
Alina H (Poznań)
Barbara H (Gniezno)
Magdalena I (Bydgoszcz)
Anna IC (Poznań)
Kazimierz I (Poznań)
Jan I (Gdańsk)
Piotr J (Poznań)
Agnieszka J (Poznań)
Daria J (Zielona Góra)
Stanisław J (Poznań)
Aleksander J (Bydgoszcz)
Tomasz J (Poznań)
Włodzimierz J (Bydgoszcz)
Katarzyna J (Gniezno)
Jan J (Poznań)
Wiesław K (Katowice)
Daria K (Gniezno)
Zofia K (Gniezno)
Dariusz K (Bydgoszcz)
ix
x
 
Tomasz K (Bydgoszcz)
Marek K (Gniezno)
Andrzej K (Warszawa/Bydgoszcz)
Agata K (Katowice)
Jerzy K (Warszawa)
Jerzy K (Poznań)
Lucyna K (Kielce)
Anna K (Poznań)
Albert K (Bydgoszcz/Bohum)
Tomasz K (Warszawa)
Jakub K (Poznań)
Mirosław K (Bydgoszcz)
Orest K (Gniezno)
Igor K (Poznań)
Krzysztof K (Poznań)
Filip K (Gniezno)
Gerard K (Gniezno)
Emil K (Gniezno)
Bohdan L (Poznań)
Dorota LD (Poznań)
Ignacy L (Poznań)
Waldemar Ł (Poznań)
Andrzej Ł (Wrocław)
Ireneusz Ł (Lublin)
Jacek M (Bydgoszcz)
Paweł M (Lublin)
Krzysztof M (Poznań)
Dariusz M (Poznań)
Aleksander M (Poznań)
Wiesław M (Gniezno)
Irena MG (Poznań)
Agnieszka M (Bydgoszcz)
Teresa M (Bydgoszcz)
Małgorzata M (Gniezno)
Marzena M (Poznań)
Przemysław M (Poznań)
Mariusz M (Poznań)
Maciej M (Poznań)
Andrzej M (Bydgoszcz)
Maciej M (Rzeszów)
Katarzyna M (Gniezno)
Witold M (Poznań)
Wojciech M (Wrocław)
Maria M (Poznań)
Piotr N (Poznań)
Anita N (Poznań)
Lidia N (Gniezno)
Małgorzata N (Poznań)
Wojciech N (Poznań)
Szymon N (Poznań)
Tomasz N (Bydgoszcz)
Danuta O (Szczecin)
Piotr O (Poznań)
Marek Jan O (Rzeszów)
Szymon O (Toruń)
Lechosław O (Poznań)
Monika OC (Bydgoszcz)
Janusz OZ (Bydgoszcz)
Monika O (Gniezno)
Adam P (Wrocław)
Jędrzej P (Poznań)
Małgorzata P (Wrocław)
Marcin P (Toruń)
Zdzisław P (Poznań)
Zbigniew P (Poznań)
Jacek P (Gdańsk)
Ewa P (Bydgoszcz)
Andrzej P (Bydgoszcz)
Norbert R (Katowice)
Sebastian R (Bydgoszcz)
Romuald R (Poznań)
Paweł S (Kalisz)
Maciej S (Poznań)
Stanisław S (Poznań)
Edward S (Poznań)
Dorota S (Poznań)
Ewa S (Poznań)
Miłosz S (Poznań)
Sławomir S (Kraków)
Dariusz S (Bydgoszcz)
Paweł S (Poznań)
Krzysztof S (Poznań)
Magdalena S (Poznań)
Wiesław S (Wrocław)
Adam S (Bydgoszcz)
Patrycja S (Gniezno)
Monika S (Poznań)
Katarzyna SH (Gniezno)
Witold S (Poznań/Gniezno)
Damian S (Poznań)
Agata Ś (Gniezno)
Joachim Ś (Kraków)
 
Barbara T (Bydgoszcz)
Anna T (Poznań)
Maria T (Gniezno)
Andrzej T (Bydgoszcz)
Lech T (Poznań)
Agnieszka WD
(Bydgoszcz)
Elżbieta W (Poznań)
Jacek W (Poznań)
Jarosław W (Poznań)
Rafał W (Poznań)
Przemysław W (Toruń)
Zbysław W (Poznań)
Jacek W (Bydgoszcz)
Ryszard W (Poznań)
Tomasz W (Poznań)
Igor W (Wrocław)
Andrzej W (Wrocław)
Andrzej Z (Bydgoszcz)
Sławomir Z (Gniezno)
Marek Z (Bydgoszcz)
Adam Z (Warszawa/Poznań)
Sławomir Z (Bydgoszcz)
Danuta Z (Poznań)
Zbigniew Z (Bydgoszcz)
Jadwiga Krystyna Ż (Poznań)
xi
TO PROFESSOR LESZEK MROZEWICZ,
WORSHIPER OF CLIO
P
rofessor Leszek Mrozewicz was born 60 years ago. Being a member of the
historians’ guild, as well as our Birthday Man, we wish to confirm that
fact with a certain astonishment. e person, whom we are now talking
about, excels in rather youthful vigor and breathtaking expeditions around the
world; he is no ordinary professor. And his honours and awards by various academic dignitaries give further testimony to this fact. He was anything but tied
to his desk, despite his prolific literary output. us, given the breadth of his
experiences and achievements, one cannot do justice in the time alloed here to
encapsulate his life’s accomplishments, let alone outline his biography, nor even
to determine his place within the development of the historiography. All these
tasks are for another day, because we strongly believe and sincerely wish that
the best times are still to come for Professor Leszek Mrozewicz.
Professor Leszek Mrozewicz’s links with Adam Mickiewicz University in
Poznań are long indeed. He studied under the supervision of Professor Stefan
Parnicki-Pudełko. In 1974 he was awarded his Master’s Degree; in 1979 he defended his doctoral dissertation and in 1988 presented his “Habilitationschri”.
Gradually Leszek Mrozewicz reached the highest academic rank of professor ordinarius in 1996 — a steady rise from his entry in 1974 as assistant. Nowadays,
he is the head of the Chair of History of the Ancient Societies (Zakład Historii
Społeczeństw Antycznych) at Adam Mickiewicz University. His limitless energy
allowed him simultaneously to hold the post of the Director of the Institute of
European Culture in Collegium Europaeum in Gniezno and to act as a Professor
at the Institute of History in the University of Casimir the Great in Bydgoszcz
(Chair of Archaeology and Ancient Civilizations).
Professor Leszek Mrozewicz has successfully been conducting research on
ancient history, in particular on Latin epigraphy. e solid foundation of his
xiii
xiv
   ,   
multitudinous discoveries in this field can be linked with his participation in archaeological expeditions in Novae in Bulgaria, organized by Adam Mickiewicz
University. He has focused in a special way on the history of the early Roman
Empire (from the 1ˢᵗ to the 3ʳᵈ century AD), particularly on the Roman provinces
along the Rhine and Danube rivers. His adjudications regarding gradual urbanization, municipalization and Romanization of the ancient Roman Empire have
been commonly consulted in the world’s literature.
is authority, which Professor Leszek Mrozewicz had gained among scholars, was confirmed upon him by the numerous grants offered by renown institutions: University in Kiel (1983–1984), Leibniz-Gemeinscha (Heidelberg 1989),
Deutsches Archäologisches Institut (Frankfurt am Main 1992), Fondation Hardt
pour l’étude de l’Antiquité classique in Switzerland (1995), Janineum. Institut zur
Förderung von Wissenschalern und Künstlern aus Ost- und Mieleuropa (Vienna 1997–2000), Ohio State University (Columbus 2003) and e Lanckoroński
Foundation (Rome 2008).
Professor Leszek Mrozewicz has delivered lectures at many foreign universities, including Augsburg, Erlangen, Hannover, Heidelberg, Cologne, Mainz in
Germany, Vienna in Austria, Bern, Freiburg and Zurich in Switzerland, Rome (La
Sapienza as a visiting professor) and Paris (Sorbonne as a visiting professor).
Professor Mrozewicz’s lectures, as well as his exams, are memorable among
his former pupils. Legends abound. He is also well known for the scholarly trips
that he has organized, which permied students to see firsthand important monuments of ancient cultures: Rome (1997), Mainz (1997), Southern Germany —
Germanic-Raetian Limes (1998), Greece (1999), Sicily (2000), Southern France —
Provence (2001), Copenhagen — Glyptoteka (2002), Rome (2002), Hannover —
Hildesheim (2004), Berlin — e Pergamon Museum (2006), Turkey — Aegean
coast (2006), Rome (2007 and 2008), Italy — Campania (2009), and London — British
Museum (2010).
Modern methods of teaching, broadly developed international cooperation,
personal participation in trips all play a part in why his seminars are so well
aended. To date, his seminar has generated more than 140 MA’s and 16 PhD’s.
Professor Leszek Mrozewicz is a member of the Scientific Commiee on Ancient Culture of the Polish Academy of Sciences. He has served two terms in
the prestigious corporation as its vice chairman. He also presided for two terms
(1992–1997, 2000–2002) over the Commission of Ancient History, affiliated to the
Executive Board of the Polish Historical Society. Additionally, he is a member
of the Polish Philological Society (Societas Philologa Polonorum), e Poznań
Society for the Advancement of the Arts and Sciences (Poznańskie Towarzystwo
Przyjaciół Nauk) and Association Internationale d’Epigraphie Grecque et Latine.
Besides publishing his own books and articles, Professor Leszek Mrozewicz
has been engaged in promoting study on Ancient history both in Poznań and in
   ,   
xv
Poland as a whole. He has served as the editor of several scientific journals and
series of source editions, including: “Eos” (1981–2004), “Balcanica Posnaniensia”,
“Fontes Historiae Antiquae”, “Xenia Posnaniensia”, “Xenia Posnaniensia. Series
altera” and “Xenia Posnaniensia. Monografie”.
is jubilee’s eulogy to Leszek Mrozewicz has been liberal in its complements,
but substantiated by the numerous facts just mentioned. Let us express now birthday greetings to you and treat this metrical fact with proper respect, however,
certainly without emotion. You inured us permanently to expect new works, and
always to challenge yourself. Let Clio remember you constantly. May the other
gods keep you in good health, and let people make friendship with you according
to their own standards.
Kazimierz Ilski
Violea Julkowska
Rafał Witkowski
PROFESOROWI LESZKOWI MROZEWICZOWI,
CZCICIELOWI CLIO
P
rofesor Leszek Mrozewicz urodził się sześćdziesiąt lat temu. Należąc do
cechu historyków, tak jak Jubilat, stwierdzamy ten fakt z pewnym zdziwieniem. Postać ta odznacza się bowiem raczej młodzieńczą werwą, pożądliwością poznawania świata i podróżowania i nie da się jej wpisać w schemat
profesora odznaczającego się już rozmaitymi godnościami, a przez to ostatecznie
statecznego i przywiązanego do swego biurka. Obserwacja ta prowadzi do wniosku, że nie czas na podsumowania, ostateczną bibliografię i próbę naznaczenia
miejsca w dziejach historiografii. To jeszcze przed nami, gdyż najlepsze lata ciągle jeszcze przed Jubilatem — w co wierzymy i szczerze Mu tego życzymy.
Profesor Leszek Mrozewicz jest uczniem profesora Stefana Parnickiego-Pudełko. Na Uniwersytecie im. Adama Mickiewicza rozgrywa się Jego kariera: magisterium (1974), doktorat (1979) i habilitacja (1988). W wyniku uzyskiwanych stopni
także stanowiska: od asystenta (1974) do profesora zwyczajnego (1996). Jest dzisiaj
kierownikiem Zakładu Historii Społeczeństw Antycznych na Uniwersytecie im.
Adama Mickiewicza w Poznaniu. Niezmordowana siła pozwala Mu kierować także Instytutem Kultury Europejskiej w Collegium Europaeum w Gnieźnie, a także
zajmować stanowisko profesora w Instytucie Historii Uniwersytetu im. Kazimierza Wielkiego w Bydgoszczy (Katedra Archeologii i Cywilizacji Starożytnych).
Dziedziną badań, którą Jubilat uprawia od czasu studiów jest historia starożytna, zwłaszcza epigrafika łacińska. Podstawą licznych odkryć i ustaleń na tym polu
był udział w Ekspedycji Archeologicznej UAM w Novae w Bułgarii. Szczególny
nacisk w badaniach położył Profesor na dzieje wczesnego Cesarstwa Rzymskiego
(I–III w.), zwłaszcza dzieje prowincji rzymskich nad Renem i Dunajem. Jego ustalenia dotyczące urbanizacji, municypalizacji i romanizacji Imperium Romanum
są powszechnie konsultowane w literaturze światowej.
xvii
xviii
  ,  
Autorytet, który Jubilat zdobył w tej dziedzinie pozwolił Mu cieszyć się prestiżowymi stypendiami: Uniwersytetu w Kilonii (1983–1984), Fundacji Leibniza
(Heidelberg 1989), Niemieckiego Instytutu Archeologicznego (Frankfurt n. Menem 1992), Fondation Hardt w Szwajcarii (1995), Instytutu Janineum (Wiedeń
1997–2000), e Ohio State University (Columbus 2003), Fundacji Lanckorońskich
(Rzym 2008).
Wygłosił liczne wykłady na Uniwersytetach w Niemczech (Augsburg, Erlangen, Hanower, Heidelberg, Kilonia, Moguncja), Austrii (Wiedeń), Szwajcarii (Berno, Fryburg, Zurych), w Rzymie (Uniwersytet La Sapienza: visiting professor)
i Paryżu (Uniwersytet Sorbona: visiting professor).
Niezapomniane dla studentów pozostają wykłady na UAM, a także egzaminy, które obrastają zasłużoną legendą. Do tego utrwalonego wizerunku należą
ekspedycje naukowe pozwalające studentom zapoznać się z ważnymi zabytkami
kultury antycznej: Rzym (1997), Moguncja (1997), południowe Niemcy — limes
germańsko-retycki (1998), Grecja (1999), Sycylia (2000), południowa Francja —
Prowansja (2001), Kopenhaga — Glyptoteka (2002), Rzym (2002), Hanower — Hildesheim (2004), Berlin — Muzeum Pergamonu (2006), Turcja — wybrzeże egejskie
(2006), Rzym (2007 i 2008), Włochy — Kampania (2009), Londyn — British Museum
(2010).
Nowoczesna dydaktyka, szeroko rozwinięta współpraca międzynarodowa,
osobisty udział w wyprawach sprawiają, że seminarium Profesora odwiedzane
jest licznie. Ukończyło je dotąd z sukcesem stu czterdziestu magistrów oraz szesnastu doktorów.
Profesor Leszek Mrozewicz jest członkiem Komitetu Nauk o Kulturze Antycznej Polskiej Akademii Nauk. W tym prestiżowym gremium pełni funkcję wiceprzewodniczącego. Dwukrotnie przewodniczył (1992–1997, 2000–2002) Komisji
Historii Starożytnej, działającej przy Zarządzie Głównym Polskiego Towarzystwa Historycznego. Jest także członkiem Polskiego Towarzystwa Filologicznego, Poznańskiego Towarzystwa Przyjaciół Nauk i Międzynarodowego Stowarzyszenia Epigrafiki Greckiej i Łacińskiej (Association Internationale d’Epigraphie
Grecque et Latine).
Obok prac autorskich nieoceniona pozostaje działalność dla dobra środowiska
starożytników w Poznaniu i w Polsce. W tym ponoszenie ciężarów redagowania czasopism i serii wydawniczych: „Eos” (1981–2004), „Balcanica Posnaniensia”,
„Fontes Historiae Antiquae” i „Xenia Posnaniensia”, „Xenia Posnaniensia. Series
altera” i „Xenia Posnaniensia. Monografie”.
Taka jest jubileuszowa pochwała Leszka Mrozewicza, wątła w komplementy, silna w fakty. Życzenia są takie, abyś Szanowny Jubilacie minął metrykalny
fakt z należną uwagą, ale bez ckliwości. Stawiając bowiem przed sobą wysokie
wymagania przyzwyczaiłeś również innych do tego, iż oczekują od Ciebie cią-
  ,  
xix
gle nowych prac. Niech Clio nie zapomina o Tobie, inni bogowie dają zdrowie
a ludzie przyjaźń według własnej miary.
Kazimierz Ilski
Violea Julkowska
Rafał Witkowski
STUDIA
CONSPECTUS SIGLORUM
AD — Ἀρχαιολογικὸν Δελτίον. Μελέτες, Athina.
AE — L’Année Épigraphique. Revue des publications épigraphiques relatives à l’Antiquité romaine,
Paris.
Ael., Nat. an. — Aelianus, De natura animalium.
AEph — Ἀρχαιολογικὴ ἐφημερίς. Περιοδικὸν τῆς ἐν Ἀθήναις Ἀρχαιολογικῆς Ἑταιρείας, Athinai.
Aesch. — Aeschylus.
Aesch., Pers. — Aeschylus, Persae.
Aesch., eb. — Aeschylus, Septem contra ebas.
Amm. Marc. — Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae.
An. Val., Orig. — Anonymus Valesianus, Origo Constantini Imperatoris.
Anacr. — Anacreon.
Ant. Lib. — Antoninus Liberalis.
Antiph. — Antiphanes Comicus.
AP — Anthologia Palatina.
App., BC — Appianus Alexandrinus, De bellis civilibus.
App., Sic. — Appianus Alexandrinus, De rebus Siculis et reliquarum insularum.
Arist., Hist. anim. — Aristoteles, Historia animalium.
Arist., Part. an. — Aristoteles, De Partibus animalium.
Arist., Pol. — Aristoteles, Politica.
Arnob., Nat. — Arnobius, Adversus nationes.
Arr., Anab. — L. Flavius Arrianus, Anabasis Alexandri.
Ascon. — Q. Asconius Pedianus, Orationum Ciceronis quinque enarratio.
Ath., AA — Athanasius, Apologia contra Arianos.
Ath., AC — Athanasius, Apologia ad Constantium.
Ath., Fug. — Athanasius, Apologia de fuga sua.
Ath., HA — Athanasius, Historia Arianorum.
Ath., Serap. — Athanasius, Epistulae ad Serapionem.
Athen. — Athenaeus.
Athen., Deipnos. — Athenaeus, Deipnosophistae.
Aug., CD — Aurelius Augustinus, De civitate Dei.
Aur. Vict., Caes. — Sex. Aurelius Victor, Liber de Caesaribus.
Aur. Vict.-Ps., Epit. de Caes. — Ps.-Aelius Victor, Epitome de Caesaribus.
Bas. Caes., Ep. — Basilius Caesariensis, Epistulae.
3
4
 
BGU — Äegyptise Urkunden aus den Koeniglien/Staatlisen Museen zu Berlin, I–XIX, Berlin –
Wiesbaden – München 1895–2005.
BMC — Coins of the Roman Empire in the British Museum, edited by H. Maingly, R.A.G. Carson,
P.V. Hill, I–VI, London 1923–1963.
BMC Corinth — A Catalogue of the Greek Coins in the British Museum: Corinth, colonies of Corinth,
etc., edited by B.V. Head, London 1889.
Caes., BC — C. Iulius Caesar, De bello civili.
Caes., BG — C. Iulius Caesar, De bello Gallico.
CAH ² — e Cambridge Ancient History, I–XIV, Cambridge – New York ²1970–2000.
Cass. Dio — L. Cassius Dio Cocceianus, Historia Romana.
Cens. — Censorinus, De die natali liber ad Q. Caerellium.
Chron. a. CCCLIV — Chronographvs anni CCCLIIII [Monumenta Germaniae Historica. Auctores Antiquissimi, IX: Chronica Minora saec. IV. V. VI. VII. (I), edidit . Mommsen, Berolini 1892, 16–148].
CI — Codex Iustinianus.
Cic., Amic. — M. Tullius Cicero, De amicitia.
Cic., A. — M. Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad Aicum.
Cic., Brut. — M. Tullius Cicero, Brutus.
Cic., Cat. — M. Tullius Cicero, Orationes in Catilinam.
Cic., Div. — M. Tullius Cicero, De divinatione.
Cic., Dom. — M. Tullius Cicero, De domo sua oratio.
Cic., Fam. — M. Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad familiares.
Cic., Harusp. — M. Tullius Cicero, De haruspicum responso oratio.
Cic., Leg. — M. Tullius Cicero, De legibus.
Cic., Mil. — M. Tullius Cicero, Pro Milone oratio.
Cic., Off. — M. Tullius Cicero, De officiis.
Cic., Or. — M. Tullius Cicero, De oratore.
Cic., Phil. — M. Tullius Cicero, Philipicae.
Cic., Pis. — M. Tullius Cicero, In L. Calpurnium Pisonem oratio.
Cic., Q.fr. — M. Tullius Cicero, Epistulae ad intum fratrem.
Cic., Rep. — M. Tullius Cicero, De re publica.
Cic., Sest. — M. Tullius Cicero, Pro Sestio oratio.
Cic., Verr. — M. Tullius Cicero, In Verrem orationes.
CIG — Corpus Inscriptionum Graecarum, edidit A. Boeckhius, I–IV, Berolini 1828–1877.
CIL — Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum, Berolini – Paris 1863–2006.
CILA, II — Corpus de Inscripciones Latinas de Andalucía, II: Sevilla, 1: La Vega (Hispalis), ed. J. González, Sevilla 1991.
Consol. Liv. — Consolatio ad Liviam.
Corinth — e Inscriptions, 1926–1950, by J. H. Kent, Princeton 1966 (Corinth, VIII.3).
CRR — e Coinage of the Roman Republic, by E.A. Sydenham, revised with indexes G.C. Haines,
edited by L. Forrer and C.A. Hersh, London 1952.
C — Codex eodosianus.
Curt. — Q. Curtius Rufus, Historiae Alexandri Magni.
De vir. ill. — De viris illustribus.
Dem. — Demosthenes, Orationes.
Dig. — Digesta Iustiniani.
Dio Chrys., Or. — Dio Chrysostomus, Orationes.
Diod. Sic. — Diodorus Siculus, Bibliotheca historica.
 
5
Dion. Hal. — Dionysius Halicarnassensis, Romanae Antiquitates.
Don., Ter. Ad. — Aelius Donatus, Commentum Terenti (Adelphi).
DPhA — Dictionnaire des philosophes antiques, publié sous la direction de R. Goulet, I–IV, Paris
1994–2005.
DS — Dizionario epigrafico di antiità romane, di E. De Ruggiero, I–V, Roma 1886–1997.
EK — Encyklopedia Katolia, I–XIV, Lublin 1973–2009.
Epict. — Epictetus, Dissertationes.
Epiph., Haer. — Epiphanius, Panarion seu adversus LXXX haereses.
Eub. — Eubulus.
Eurip., Bac. — Euripides, Bacae.
Eurip., Cyc. — Euripides, Cyclops.
Eurip., El. — Euripides, Electra.
Eurip., IA — Euripides, Iphigenia Aulidensis.
Eurip., Phoen. — Euripides, Phoenissae.
Eus., VC — Eusebius Caesariensis, De vita Constantini.
Eutr. — Eutropius, Breviarium ab Urbe condita.
Fest. — Sex. Pompeius Festus, De verborum significatu.
FGrH — Die Fragmente der Grieisen Historiker, ed. F. Jacoby, I–III, Leiden 1957–1962.
Flor. — L. Annaeus Florus, Epitomae de Tito Livio bellorum omnium annorum septingentorum.
Fron., De eloqu. — M. Cornelius Fronto, Epistulae ad M. Antoninum de eloquentia.
Frontin., Aq. — Sex. Iulius Frontinus, De aquaeductu Urbis Romae.
Frontin., Strat. — Sex. Iulius Frontinus, Strategemata.
Gel. — Aulus Gellius, Noctes aicae.
Greg. Nys., Ep. can. — Gregorius Nyssenus, Epistula canonica.
H. Asclep. — Hymnus ad Asclepium.
H. Cer. — Hymnus ad Cererem.
H. Hom. — Hymni Homerici.
H. Merc. — Hymnus ad Mercurium.
H. Orph. — Hymni Orphici.
Hdn. — Herodianus, Regnum post Marcum.
Hdt. — Herodotus, Historiae.
Heliod. — Heliodorus, Aethiopica.
Hermip. — Hermippus Comicus.
Hes., Op. — Hesiodus, Opera et dies.
Hes., Sc. — Hesiodus, Scutum.
Hes., . — Hesiodus, eogonia.
Hier., Chron. — Hieronymus, Chronicon Eusebii a Graeco Latine redditum et continuatum.
Hil., FH — Hilarius Pictaviensis, Collectanea antiariana parisina (fragmenta historica).
Hom., Il. — Homerus, Ilias.
Hom., Od. — Homerus, Odyssea.
Hor., Ep. — Q. Horatius Flaccus, Epistulae.
ICret — Inscriptiones creticae, opera et consilia F. Halbherr collectae, curavit M. Guarducci, I–IV,
Roma 1935–1950.
IDRE — Inscriptions de la Dacie Romaine. Inscriptions externes concernant l’histoire de la Dacie, Recueil, commentaires et index par C.C. Petolescu, I–II, Bucarest 1996–2000.
IEph = Die Insrien von Ephesos, I–VIII, Bonn 1979–1984 (Inschrien griechischer Städte aus Kleinasien, Bd. 11–17).
6
 
IG — Inscriptiones Graecae, I–XIV, Berolini 1873–2008.
ILAlg = Inscriptions latines de l’Algérie, recueillies et publiées par S. Gsell, I–II (1–3), Paris 1922–2003.
ILER — Inscriptiones latinas de España romana. Antologia de 6.800 textos, por J. Vives, I–II, Barcelona
1971–1972.
ILLRP — Inscriptiones latinae liberae rei publicae, curavit A. Degrassi, I–III, Firenze 1957–1965.
ILS — Inscriptiones Latinae Selectae, edidit H. Dessau, I–III, 2 Berlin 1954–1955.
IMSup. — Inscriptions de la Mésie supérieure, sous la direction de F. Papazoglou, I–II, III.2, IV, VI,
Beograd 1976–1995.
InscrIt — Inscriptiones Italiae, Academiae Italicae consociatae ediderunt, I–XIII, Roma 1931–1986.
Ioann. Ant. — Ioannes Antiochenus, Fragmenta.
Ioseph., AI — Flavius Iosephus, Antiquitates Iudaicae.
Ioseph., BI — Flavius Iosephus, Bellum Iudaicum.
ISM — Inscripţiile din Scythia Minor greceşti şi latine = Inscriptiones Scythiae Minoris graecae et
latinae, I–III, V, Bucureşti, 1980–1999.
Isoc., — Isocrates, Orationes et epistolae.
Iul., Caes. — Iulianus Imp., Caesares.
Iust. — M. Iunianus Iustinus, Epitoma Historiarum Philippicarum T. Pompeii Trogi.
Iuv. — Decimus Iunius Iuvenalis, Saturae.
IvO — Olympia. Die Ergebnisse der von dem Deutsen Rei veranstalteten Ausgrabung, herausgegeben von E. Curtius und F. Adler, V: Die Insrien von Olympia, bearbeitet von W. Dienberger
und K. Purgold, Berolini 1896.
Joann. Chrys., In Joann. hom. — Joannes Chrysostomus, In Joannem homilia.
Kassel-Austin — Poetae Comici Graeci, edd. R. Kassel, C. Austin, I–VIII, Berolini – Novi Eboraci
1983–1995.
KE — Κρητική Εστία, Chania.
KretChron — Κρητικὰ Χρονικά, Heraklion.
Lib., Ep. — Libanius, Epistulae.
Lib. Pont. — Liber Pontificalis.
Liv. — T. Livius, Ab Urbe condita.
Liv., Per. — T. Livius, Perioae.
LSJ — A Greek-English Lexicon, compiled by H.G. Liddell and R. Sco, revised and augmented
throughout by Sir H. Stuart Jones with the assistance of R. McKenzie and with the cooperation
of many scholars, Oxford 1968 (Supplementum 1996).
LTUR — Lexicon Topographicum Urbis Romae, a cura di E.M. Steinby I–V, Roma 1993–2000.
Luc. — M. Annaeus Lucanus, Bellum civile.
Lucian., Hist. — Lucianus Samosatensis, De historia conscribenda.
M. Aur., Med. — Marcus Aurelius Imperator, Meditationes.
Maehl. — Pindari carmina cum fragmentis, II: Fragmenta. Indices, ed. H. Maehler, Leipzig 1989.
Mart. — M. Valerius Martialis, Epigrammata.
NNDI — Novissimo Digesto Italiano, direo da A. Azara e E. Eula, I–VII, Torino 1957–1987.
Nonn., Dion. — Nonnus, Dionysiaca.
Nov. Val. — Novellae Valentiniani.
NT — Novum Testamentum.
OCD³ — e Oxford Classical Dictionary, edited by S. Hornblower and A. Spawforth, Oxford – New
York ³1996.
Oppian., Cyneg. — Oppianus, Cynegetica.
Orac. Sibyl. — Oracula Sibyllina.
 
7
Oros. — Paulus Orosius, Historia adversus paganos.
Ovid., Fasti — P. Ovidius Naso, Fasti.
Ovid., Pont. — P. Ovidius Naso, Epistulae ex Ponto.
Ovid., Trist. — P. Ovidius Naso, Tristia.
Pass. Marcell. — Passio S. Marcelli in G. Lanata, Gli ai del processo contro il centurione Marcello,
Byzantion 42, 1972, 509–522 = e Acts of Christian Martyrs, Introduction Texts and Translation
by H.A. Musurillo, Oxford 1972, XXXVII–XXXIX, 250–259.
Paul. Diac., Hist. Long. — Paulus Diaconus, Historia Langobardorum.
Paus. — Pausanias, Descriptio Graeciae.
PECS — e Princeton Encyclopedia of Classical Sites, [edited by] R. Stillwell, Princeton 1976.
PHI on-line — e Paard Humanities Institute. Searable Greek Inscriptions (http://epigraphy.
packard.org/inscriptions/).
Philost., HE — Philostorgius, Historia Ecclesiastica.
Philostr., VA — L. Flavius Philostratus, Vita Apolonii.
Philost., VS — L. Flavius Philostratus, Vitae sophistorum.
Philox. Leucad. — Philoxenus Leucadius, Deipnon.
Phot., Bibl. — Photius, Bibliotheca.
Pind., Fr. — Pindarus, Fragmenta.
Pind., Pyth. — Pindarus, Pythica.
PIR¹ — Prosopographia Imperii Romani, saeculi I. II. III., ediderunt E. Klebs, H. Dessau et P. de Rohden,
I–III, ¹Berolini 1897–1898.
PIR² — Prosopographia Imperii Romani, saeculi I. II. III., iteratis cvris edidit E. Groag, A. Stein, L. Petersen, K. Wachtel, M. Heil, W. Eck, J. Heinriches, adivvantibus K.-P. Johne, L. Vidman, M. Horster, A. Krieckhaus, A. Storbach, ²Berolini – Lipsiae 1933–2009.
Pl. — Plato.
Plaut. — T. Maccius Plautus, Comoediae.
Plin., NH — C. Plinius Secundus (Maior), Naturalis Historia.
Plin., Ep. — C. Plinius Caecilius Secundus (Minor), Epistulae.
Plin., Pan. — C. Plinius Caecilius Secundus (Minor), Panegyricus.
Plut. — Plutarchus, Vitae Parallelae.
Plut., De soll. an. — Plutarchus, De sollertia animalium.
Plut., Is. et Os. — Plutarchus, De Iside et Osiride.
Plut., Mor. — Plutarchus, Moralia.
Plut., est. Rom. — Plutarchus, aestiones Romanae.
PLRE — e Prosopography of the Later Roman Empire, by A.H.M. Jones, J.R. Martindale, J. Morris,
I–III, Cambridge 1971–1992.
PMG — Poetae Melici Graeci, ed. D.L. Page, Oxford 1962.
Ptol., Geogr. — Claudius Ptolemaeus, Geographia.
Pol. — Polybius, Historiae.
Pomp. Mela — Pomponius Mela, De situ orbis libri III.
Pratin. — Pratinas.
Publ., Sent. — Publilius (Syrus), Sententiae.
int., Inst. — M. Fabius intilianus, Institutiones oratoriae.
RAC — Reallexikon ür Antike und Christentum. Sawörterbu zur Auseinandersetzung des Christentums mit der antiken Welt, I–XXIV, Stugart 1950–2010.
8
 
RE — Paulys Real-Encyclopädie der classisen Altertumswissensa. Neue Bearbeitung, unter Mitwirkung zahlreicher Fachgenossen herausgegeben von G. Wissowa, W. Kroll, K. Ziegler, Stugart 1893–1978.
RGA — Reallexikon der Germanisen Altertumskunde, Berlin – New York 1968/1973–2007.
RGDA — Res gestae Divi Augusti.
RIB — e Roman Inscriptions of Britain, by the late R.G. Collingwood and R.P. Wright, I–III, Oxford
1965–2009.
RIC — e Roman Imperial Coinage, edited by H. Maingly, E.A. Sydenham, C.H.V. Sutherland,
R.A.G. Carson, J.P.C. Kent and A.M. Burne, I–IX, London 1923–1994.
RIU — Die römisen Insrien Ungarns (RIU), von L. Barkóczi, A. Mócsy, A.Sz. Burger, F. Fülep,
S. Soproni und J. Fitz, I–VI, Budapest – Bonn 1972–2001.
R&O — P.J. Rhodes and R. Osborne, Greek Historical Inscriptions 404–323 BC, Oxford 2003.
RPC — Roman Provincial Coinage, I–II, VII, Suppl. I–II, London – Paris, 1992–2006.
RRC — Roman Republican Coinage, by M.H. Crawford, I–II, Cambridge 1974.
Ruf., HE — Rufinus Aquileiensis, Eusebii Historia ecclesiastica a Rufino translata et continuata.
Sall., Cat. — C. Sallustius Crispus, Bellum Catilinae.
Sall., Iug. — C. Sallustius Crispus, Bellum Iugurthinum.
Sol. Bob. — Solia in Ciceronis Orationes Bobiensia.
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SEG — Supplementum Epigraphicum Graecum, Leiden.
Sen., Con. — L.(M.) Annaeus Seneca (Maior), Controversiae.
Sen., Suas. — L.(M.) Annaeus Seneca (Maior), Suasoriae.
Sen., Ben. — L. Annaeus Seneca (Minor), De Beneficiis.
Sen., Consol. Polyb. — L. Annaeus Seneca (Minor), Consolatio ad Polybium.
Sen., Ep. — L. Annaeus Seneca (Minor), Epistulae morales ad Lucilium.
Sen., Marc. — L. Annaeus Seneca (Minor), Ad Marciam de consolatione.
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Soph., Aj. — Sophocles, Ajax.
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SSS — Słownik staroż ytności słowiań ski. Encyklopedyczny zarys kultury Słowian od czasó w najdawniejszy, pod red. W. Kowalenki, G. Labudy, T. Lehra-Spławiń skiego, Warszawa 1961–1996.
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 
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9
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
SOME REMARKS ON THE LEGATIO AT HENNAM
H A
I
n her article entitled e Goddess Ceres and the Death of Tiberius Gracus,
Barbee Stanley Spaeth focuses on a very interesting topic of legates sent
out to Henna in Sicily aer the death of Tiberius Gracchus in 133.¹ Cicero
digresses on this event in his oration against Verres, both in order to stress the
godlessness of the laer and to show how much Ceres was revered.² Reportedly, various signs had appeared in the sky aer the plebeian tribune’s death,
and when, by custom, recourse had been had to the Sibylline Books³ and these
had demanded that Ceres antiquissima ought to be appeased, a delegation of ten
priests⁴ set out to distant Sicily to this end, although, as the orator assures, Rome
itself had a most beautiful and magnificent temple of this goddess.⁵
Next to Cicero, the priests’ delegation to Sicily is also mentioned in Diodorus.⁶
Diodorus describes them as going through the whole of the island seeking altars
consecrated to Zeus of Etna and fencing them off and making them inaccessible
except to those who had an ancestral right to sacrifice there.⁷ Even if the historian
fails to mention Henna, perhaps the two accounts might be combined, while one
should keep in mind that each of the two authors might have only addressed
the details which they needed for their reports at the time. Hence, on this one
occasion, the decemviri might have visited both Zeus and Ceres.
Spaeth believes that the purpose of the delegation to Henna was to “validate
the view that Tiberius Gracchus had violated these laws”, i.e. that he had infringed upon the tribunician sanctity by removing his fellow tribune Octavius
¹ Spaeth 1990.
² See Cic., Verr. II, 4.108.
³ It needs stressing that the Romans did not use the Sibylline Books in order to tell the future but
rather as a source of guidelines on how to restore the pax deorum. See Bailey 1932, 123.
⁴ According to Valerius Maximus, there were as many as fieen of them: 1.1.1: cuius cum in
urbe pulerrimum templum haberent, Gracano tumultu moniti Sibyllinis libris ut vetustissimam
Cererem placarent, Hennam, quoniam sacra eius inde orta credebantur, XVviros ad eam propitiandam.
⁵ Cf. Dion. Hal., 6.94.3.
⁶ Diod. Sic., Fr., 34–35.10: Ὅτι ἡ σύγκλητος δεισιδαιμονοῦσα ἐξαπέστειλεν εἰς Σικελίαν κατὰ
Σιβυλλιακὸν λόγιον. οἱ δὲ ἐπελθόντες καθ’ ὅλην τὴν Σικελίαν τοὺς τῷ Αἰτναίῳ Διὶ καθιδρυμένους
βωμούς, θυσιάσαντες καὶ περιφράγματα ποιήσαντες ἀβάτους ἀπεδείκνυον τοὺς τόπους πλὴν
τοῖς ἔχουσι καθ’ ἕκαστον πολίτευμα πατρίους θύειν θυσίας.
⁷ Parke 1988, 205.
11
12
 
from power and had then aempted tyranny. Such a conduct was rightly punished by death, and by sending the decemviri out to Henna, the senate sent a
message that Ceres had been offended by Tiberius’ transgressions and had to be
appeased. is was supposed to be “a part of a program by Tiberius’ senatorial
opponents to discredit him and to justify his murder as a legal form of execution”.⁸
Such a conclusion results from the author’s thesis that Tiberius’ death was a ritual
consecratio capitis. According to B. Spaeth, Tiberius was a homo sacer, and as such
he could be killed with impunity, and his murderer would be exonerated. It is argued that Ti. Gracchus became a homo sacer due to the transgressions described
in the above. at his death was a consecratio capitis was also evidenced by the
fact that Nasica covered his head with a piece of his toga as he was leaving the
building.⁹
Nevertheless, another explanation seems acceptable as for the rationale behind the legatio to Sicily. Namely, Tiberius Gracchus, a plebeian tribune, had been
murdered, and his death was followed by an investigation against his supporters,
with many of the tribune’s friends being, with no trial at all, sent to exile, detained
or murdered as a result. It was under such circumstances that the ominous signs
might have appeared in the sky as mentioned by Cicero. In order to elucidate
them, the Sibylline Books were thus consulted. In order for the pax deorum to
be restored, the Books demanded that Ceres be propitiated, aer having been
insulted by the violation of the tribunician sanctity. Such a religious injunction
might have been a stimulus for the senators to sober up and seek expiation.¹⁰ is
might be evidenced by the senate’s further conduct:
the senate, now desirous to reconcile the people to these acts of theirs, no longer
opposed the Agrarian law; and they permied them to elect another commissioner,
in the room of Tiberius, for dividing the lands (…). Nasica was now threatened with
an impeachment. e senate therefore, dreading the consequence, sent him into Asia
(…), and people were even willing to believe that he was a tyrant who had defiled the
holiest and most awful temple in Rome with the blood of a magistrate, whose person
ought to have been sacred and inviolable.¹¹
erefore, the mission to Henna might have simply been a conciliatory gesture of
the senate. Yet according to B. Spaeth, such a conduct would be inconsistent with
what followed Gracchus’ death, i.e. the investigation conducted by P. Popilius
⁸ Spaeth 1990, 183.
⁹ Plut., Ti. Grac., 19. As a side note, let us mention that the thesis proposed by B. Spaeth was
also later discussed in detail in Linderski 2002.
¹⁰ Whereas B. Spaeth argues that the intention behind this action was to apologize to the goddess
for Ti. Gracchus’ deeds, its seems more logical that the senators saw a need to apologize to Ceres
for a killing of a tribune which they had themselves perpetrated.
¹¹ Plut., Ti. Grac., 21 (trans. J. Langhorne, W. Langhorne).
      
13
Lenas and P. Rupilius against Tiberius’ supporters, which concluded with many
of them sentenced to death or banished.¹² We do not know, however, when exactly the legates were set out to Sicily. Moreover, given that hypocrisy has never
been anything unusual in politics, we might suppose that the both events, i.e. the
mission to Henna and the trials against the Gracchian supporters, did not have
to clash at all.
B. Spaeth also assumes that, in order to achieve the desired effect, the senate
commied a manipulation as they ordered that the Sibylline Books be consulted.
Were it so, she would be right to argue that the mission to Henna was an element
in the service of the senatorial propaganda. Should one assume this, however, it
is still unclear why the legates should have travelled to distant Sicily. Indeed,
the temple of Ceres in Rome would certainly have been more spectacular and
beer suited for the senate’s alleged intentions. Also Nasica’s reputation would
have been saved. Obviously, although it cannot be denied that many of such consultations were senatorial manipulations, most of the answers provided by the
Sibylline Books had no political overtones.¹³
B. Spaeth admits that Tiberius’ opponents commied a felony more serious
than his own. Indeed, whereas Gracchus had only forcibly removed his fellow tribune from office,¹⁴ the senators violated the tribunician sacrosanctitas by killing
a tribune. It seems therefore that the laer rather than the former would be a
felony to propitiate the gods for, and a one aer which the pax deorum should
be restored. Cicero says clearly that the ominous signs appeared aer Tiberius’
death, not aer his alleged wicked transgressions. Knowing Cicero, one might
even venture a guess that if the delegation had been to legitimate the senate’s actions and to justify Nasica’s act as a consecratio capitis, the orator would not have
failed to mention this fact whenever mentioning Tiberius’ assassination. erefore, it would be a more probable explanation to argue that the senate sought to
correct the errors of both parties.¹⁵
e Romans knew that “even unintentional killing had potential religious ramifications”.¹⁶ Yet it was Nasica and his supporters who murdered Tiberius! Ceres
is known to have been a goddess related to plebeian and tribunician issues, and
therefore it was her temple that was to be visited. Another issue is why a decision
was made to appease Ceres at her birthplace, in Henna, rather than in Rome;¹⁷
H.I. Flower argues that perhaps the senate wished to show in this manner how
¹² See Sall., Iug., 31.7; Vell. Pat., 2.7.3; Cic., Amic., 11.37; Val. Max., 4.7.1; Plut., Ti. Grac., 20.3–4.
¹³ See Orlin 2002, 92.
¹⁴ An obvious question comes to mind here — were this very fact sufficient to be treated as a
violation of the tribunician sanctity, why had not the senators reacted beforehand?
¹⁵ See Saerfield 2008, 167.
¹⁶ See Gaughan 2010, 19; Dion. Hal., 3.22.7; De vir. ill., 4.9.
¹⁷ Cic., Verr. II, 4.106–107.
14
 
seriously they treated the crisis which had arisen.¹⁸ A reference was therefore
made to a divine source, the Sibylline Books, which added to the prestige of the
senate’s mission.¹⁹
B. Spaeth believes that Henna was chosen for two reasons; Sicily was “sufficiently removed from Rome to avoid the possibility of the rituals conducted there
inflaming public opinion regarding the murder even further”, and secondly, public aention was to be diverted from the events in Rome and directed to the war
against slaves.²⁰ She argues that the delegation travelled to Henna in 133. We are
not sure about this at all, though.²¹
What we know is that Sicily indeed saw a slave rebellion at that time. is
information comes from Diodorus of Sicily (34/35). Unfortunately, the information is very imprecise. We do not even know when the rebellion started. e
most oen assumed dates are 140(135)–132 BC.²² In a further part of his oration
against Verres, Cicero mentions that in the consulship of Publius Mucius and
Lucius Calpurnius (P. Mucio L. Calpurnio consulibus), i.e. in 132, the place (Henna) was seized by slaves, fugitives, barbarians and foes.²³ One has to assume²⁴
that the delegation of the decemviri might not have possibly set out before the
news of Henna and the temple of Ceres having been captured by Rutilius first
reached Rome. We know that P. Rupilius, who in 133 participated, together with
P. Popilius Laenas and Scipio Nasica, in the activities of the commission pursuing
the Gracchian supporters, had also taken part in crushing of the slave rebellion
in Sicily. erefore, it is most likely that the decemvir delegation did not set out
to Henna before the tribune’s followers had been dealt with and Nasica had been
sent out to Pergamum.
None of the sources available to us reports any actions against Tiberius’ family
or forfeiture of his property. B. Spaeth argues, in turn, that perhaps the decemviri
“made some offering from his (i.e. Tiberius’) property”, although she stresses that
there is no evidence for this in the sources.²⁵ Her assumption is only based on
her own hypothesis that, since killing of Tiberius was a consecratio capitis, Ceres
claimed a consecratio bonorum by sending ominous signs. In the contexts of the
¹⁸ See Flower 2006, 73.
¹⁹ Orlin 2002, 92.
²⁰ Spaeth 1990, 184.
²¹ Speaking of which, one more option might be taken into consideration from among various
interpretations of the rationale behind the mission to Henna: as the temple of Ceres in Sicily had
been defiled during the servile war, the senate sent out the decemviri in order to propitiate the goddess for this sacrilege and to restore close religious bonds between Rome and Sicily; see Le Bonniec
1958, 367–368 (as quoted in Spaeth 1990, 184, n. 7).
²² See Verbrugghe 1973.
²³ Cic., Verr. II, 4.112: Tenuerunt enim P. Popillio P. Rupilio consulibus illum locum servi, fugitivi,
barbari, hostes […].
²⁴ See Flower 2006, 300, n. 19.
²⁵ Spaeth 1990, 194.
      
15
abovementioned passage in Cicero, such a conclusion is indefensible. It is worth
recalling that the situation which followed Tiberius Gracchus’ death resembles
the time aer the assassination of Manlius Capitolinus; it saw the outbreak of a
plague, which was believed to be due to the fact that Capitoline had been stained
with the blood of its saviour (an account of this is also given in Livy²⁶). is time,
however, the Capitoline was stained with the blood of a plebeian tribune who
had been protected by Ceres. An adequate expiation was therefore ordered by
the Sibylline Books. e senate, both in order to appease the unrest in the republic and to avoid making an impression that they yield to the plebs, resorted to a
practice customary in such cases and, following the decree of the sacred books,
sent the decemviri out to Henna. Even if the injunction itself had resulted from
some senatorial manipulation, its desired effects would be completely different
from what B. Spaeth argues. For the senate, the legatio was an opportunity to sedate the public opinion and achieve its goal. erefore, the meaning of the legatio
at Henna may be as suggested by S. Saerfield, i.e. that “e Sibylline Books did
not offer political advice to polarize the community, but instead helped to unify
the people under the rule of the elites”.²⁷
Bibliography:
Bailey C., 1932, Phases in the Religion of Ancient Rome, Berkeley (Sather Classical Lectures, 10).
Flower H.I., 2006, e Art of Forgeing. Disgrace & Oblivion in Roman Political Culture, Chapel Hill.
Gaughan J.E., 2010, Murder was Not a Crime. Homicide and Power in the Roman Republic, Austin.
Le Bonniec H., 1958, Le Culte de Cérès à Rome des origines à la fin de la République, Paris (Études et
commentaires, 27).
Linderski J., 2002, e Pontiff and the Tribune. e Death of Tiberius Gracchus, Athenaeum 90,
339–366.
Orlin E.M., 2002, Temples, Religion and Politics in the Roman Republic, Boston – Leiden.
Parke H.W., 1988, Sibyls and Sibylline Prophecy in Classical Antiquity, London.
Saerfield S., 2008, Rome’s Own Sibyl. e Sibylline Books in the Roman Republic and Early Empire,
Diss. Princeton Univ.
Spaeth B.S., 1990, e Goddess Ceres and the Death of Tiberius Gracchus, Historia 38, 182–195.
Verbrugghe G., 1973, e Elogium from Polla and the First Slave War, Classical Philology 68, 25–35.
²⁶ Liv., 4.20.
²⁷ Saerfield 2008, 168.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
P. SULPICIUS QUIRINIUS ET ORNAMENTA TRIUMPHALIA
QUELQUES REMARQUES CONCERNAT LA DATATION
K B
P
ublius Sulpicius irinius¹, homo novus d’obscurissima domus², naquit
dans une vieille ville latine nommée Lanuvium³, fut l’un des trente légats d’Auguste qui ont reçu les ornamenta triumphalia⁴. C’était une récompense honorifique accordée en reconnaissance de l’activité militaire qui a été
introduite sous l’Empire quand le triomphe réel était réservé à l’empereur, en tant
que le commandant de l’armée romaine et aux membres de domus imperatoria. La
cause de la récompense de irinius était la victoire sur une peuplade de Cilicie,
les Homonades⁵, dans une campagne dite « homonade » (de Homonadeis⁶).
¹ PIR¹, S, 732 ; PIR², S, 1018 ; RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 822–843 (E. Groag, s.v. Sulpicius [irinius] 90).
² Tac., Ann., 3.23.
³ Tac., Ann., 3.48.
⁴ Suet., Aug., 38 : Nec parcior in bellica virtute honoranda, super triginta ducibus iustos triumphos
et aliquanto pluribus triumphalia ornamenta decernenda curavit. La liste des viri triumphales jusqu’alors identifiés de l’époque d’Auguste : Tiberius Claudius Nero (en 20 av. J.-C. (?) ; 12/ 11 av.
J.-C.), Nero Claudius Drusus (11 av. J.-C.), L. Calpurnius Piso Pontifex, cos. 15 av. J.-C. (11 av. J.-C.),
P. Sulpicius irinius, cos. 12 av. J.-C. (3–2 av. J.-C. ?), L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, cos. 16 av. J.-C.
(1 av. J.-C.), L. Passienus Rufus, cos. 4 av. J.-C. (vers 2/3 ap. J.-C.), M. Vinicius, cos. 19 ap. J.-C. (vers
4 ap. J.-C.), C. Sentius Saturninus, cos. 19 av. J.-C. (6 ap. J.-C.), Juba II (6/7 ap. J.-C.), C. Cornelius
Lentulus, cos. 1 av. J.-C. (vers 6–8 ap. J.-C.), M. Valerius Messala Messalinus, cos. 3 av. J.-C. (vers
7 ap. J.-C.), M. Aemilius Lepidus, cos. 6 ap. J.-C. (9 ap. J.-C.), M. Plautius Silvanus, cos. 2 av. J.-C. (9 ap.
J.-C.), C. Vibius Postumus, cos. suff. 5 ap. J.-C. (9 ap. J.-C.), Nero Claudius Drusus Germanicus (9 ap.
J.-C.), Cn. Cornelius Lentulus, cos. av. J.-C. (14/13 av. J.-C. — 11/13 ap. J.-C.). La liérature de base
au sujet des ornamenta triumphalia : Peine 1885 ; Taylor 1936, 168–170 ; RE, XVIII.1, 1939, col. 1121
(S. Borzsák, s.v. Ornamenta triumphalia) ; Abaecherli Boyce 1942, 130–141 ; Gordon 1952, 305–330 ;
Barini 1952 ; Eck 1999, 223–227 ; Balbuza 1994, 111–120 ; 2005, 53–68. Le premier légat d’Auguste qui
a été ainsi récompensé était Tibère en 12 av. J.-C. (ou bien plus tôt, en 20 av. J.-C., après son retour
d’Arménie : Taylor 1936, 169–170 ; Roos 1941, 314–315). Suet., Tib., 9.2 ; Cass. Dio, 54.31.4.
⁵ Tac., Ann., 3.48.1 : nihil ad veterem et patriciam Sulpiciorum familiam irinius pertinuit, ortus
apud municipium Lanuvium : sed impiger militiae et acribus ministeriis consulatum sub divo Augusto,
mox expugnatis per Ciliciam Homonadensium castellis insignia triumphi adeptus (…). Comparer
CIL, XIV, 3613 = ILS, 918. Barini 1952, 45 ; Gordon 1952, 313, nᵒ 5. Homonadenses : RE, VIII.2, 1913,
col. 2265 (Ruge) ; Ramsay 1890, 335 et 419.
⁶ Strab., 12.6.5.
17
18
 
Les sources qui se sont conservées sont tellement énigmatiques qu’elles permeent de reconstruire seulement une partie de la carrière de irinius⁷. Le problème principal consiste à établir la chronologie des événements liés à son service
militaire ainsi que le genre de ses compétences et des postes qu’il occupait. Les
difficultés de la datation existent aussi dans le cas de la guerre contre les Homonades elle-même.
Le début de la carrière de irinius n’est qu’une série d’hypothèses. Il est
possible que le commandant doué a airé l’aention d’Octavien encore avant
la transformation de 27 av. J.-C., quand il aurait probablement pris part à la bataille d’Actium⁸. Ensuite, il a passé un certain temps en Afrique, où, probablement
comme proconsul (au rang de préteur) de la province de Crète et de Cyrénaïque⁹,
coopérant avec L. Cornelius Balbus pour faire face aux incursions continuelles
des berbères Garamantes et Marmarides, deux tribus du désert du Sahara libyen
au sud de Cyrène. Selon Florus, ses mérites étaient tellement importants qu’il
pourrait obtenir le cognomen Marmaricus. Ceci n’a pourtant pas eu lieu parce
que irinius était trop modeste (moderatio) dans son rapport rédigé pour le Sénat dans lequel il a diminué le rôle qu’il a joué dans la victoire remportée¹⁰. La
renommée dont il jouissait à l’époque en question dans les milieux administratif
et militaire¹¹ lui a ouvert la route au consulat qu’il prit en janvier 12 av. J.-C.
et l’exerçait pendant six mois c’est-à-dire jusqu’à la fin du mois de juillet¹². Un
événement important qu’était la prise par Auguste du poste de pontifex maximus
durant le consulat de irinius dont il nous informe dans Res gestae divi Augusti¹³,
aurait pu avoir une certaine influence sur la position de ce dernier.
Une dose de probabilité semblable accompagne les divagations sur le sujet
de la carrière de irinius après son consulat. Dans une période non pas trop
bien déterminée, Auguste l’a envoyé en Orient avec une mission concrète. La
⁷ Tac., Ann., 3.23 ; 3.48 ; Suet., Tib., 49 ; Flor., 2.31 ; Ioseph., AI, 18 ; RGDA, 10 ; Strab., 12.6.5 ; Tert.,
Adv. Marc., 4.19 ; CIL, XIV, 3613 = ILS, 918 (?) ; ILS, 9502–9503.
⁸ Cf. RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 824 (E. Groag).
⁹ La supposition de Mommsen 1883, 170–171 ; De Laet 1941, 247 date son administration à la
charnière de 21 et de 20 av. J.-C.
¹⁰ Flor., 2.31 : (…) Marmaridas atque Garamantas irinio subigendos dedit. Potuit et ille redire
Marmaricus, sed modestior in aestimanda victoria fuit ; SEG, IX, 6.63. ant à la date : RE, IVA.1,
1931, col. 825–826 (E. Groag) ; CAH ², X, 635–636 (J. Reynolds and J.A. Lloyd). Au sujet des actions
en Afrique : Mommsen 1883, 170–171 ; RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 825–826 (E. Groag) ; omasson 1984,
361 ; Syme 1995, 257.
¹¹ À la base d’une inscription conservée de Tusculum (AE 1895, 122 = 1905, 14 = ILS, 8965), E. Groag
(RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 827–826) a avancé l’hypothèse selon laquelle irinius aurait pu être engagé
à des actions militaires non pas trop bien déterminées dans la région danubienne. Par contre, irinius mentionné dans l’inscription est probablement une autre personne. Cf. De Laet 1941, 237 ;
Rüpke 2008, 911.
¹² Tac., Ann., 3.48 ; Ioseph., AI, 18.1. Le collègue de irinius au consulat était M. Valerius Messala
Barbatus Appianus (CIL, I, 12, p. 28, 64), qui est mort aussi peu après la prise de sa fonction. Il a été
remplacé par C. Valgius Rufus. Cf. Degrassi 1952, 4.
¹³ RGDA, 10.
.     
19
situation en Anatolie, parmi les tribus montagnardes de Lycaonie dans les monts
Taurus devenait de plus en plus agitée. De 36 av. J.-C., elles se trouvaient sous le
commandement d’Amyntas qui élargissait d’une manière dynamique l’étendue
de ses influences. and, dans les années 27–25 av. J.-C., il eut à affronter les
tribus de Lycaonie, y compris la tribu d’Homonades, il a bien tenu tête mais en
fin de comptes, il périt¹⁴. Amyntas, qui malgré son soutien antérieur pour Marc
Antoine (il prit part à la bataille d’Actium de son côté), fût devenu finalement
le partisan d’Octavien et obtint aussi son accord pour préserver le royaume¹⁵.
Après la mort d’Amyntas, en 25 av. J.-C., Auguste intégra la Galatie à Rome, en
tant que province romaine¹⁶. En 20 av. J.-C., il détacha de Galatie la Lycaonie et la
Cilicie Trachée, offrant ces territoires au roi de Cappadoce, Archélaos Philopatris
Ktistēs Sōtēr. Peu après, en Lycaonie eut lieu une rébellion aisée par la peuplade
de brigands, les Homonades. Cee tribu, à cause de son mode et lieu de vie (elle
menait une vie nomade sur le plateau et sur les versants nord des monts Taurus)
passait pour une tribu invincible. Les sièges des Homonades ne pouvaient être
aaqués ni du côté de la mer, ni de Cilicie, ni même de la province de Syrie.
Auguste envoya contre ces montagnards dangereux l’un de ses commandants les
plus doués qui connaissait bien ces territoires, irinius. L’objectif de sa mission
était de rétablir la paix et de forcer les Homonades à l’obéissance. Le cours de la
guerre nous est connu grâce à Strabon¹⁷ qui a écrit que irinius avait vaincu les
montagnards rebelles par la famine. L’aaque du côté de la mer et de Cilicie était
impossible, alors les troupes romaines ont occupé les terres les plus fertiles, une
vallée marécageuse de lacs en forme de bassin dans laquelle se trouvait probablement la bourgade principale et la capitale Homana¹⁸. L’approvisionnement en
vivres a été coupé et les montagnards se sont retirés dans de hautes montagnes
rocheuses. irinius a fait affaiblir leurs forces rebelles et a ainsi pu combare
les nids de résistance. Il a fait détruire les fortifications, dépeupler les territoires
originaires de la peuplade et le reste de population apte à porter l’arme (quelques
4.000 hommes) a été transplantée dans des villes voisines, se trouvant au pied des
montagnes. Selon Edmund Groag, cee guerre avait quelque chose d’un tribunal
pénal¹⁹. Elle était adroitement menée par un commandant romain qui a montré
une discipline de fer, de l’énergie et de la réflexion. Le résultat de l’intervention
militaire de l’armée romaine était la pacification et ensuite la réorganisation des
¹⁴ Strab., 12.6.3. Ramsay 1917, 229–283 ; 1924, 172–205 ; Anderson 1934, 877–878 ; Broughton 1933,
134–144 ; Syme 1934, 122–148 ; Levick 1967, 204–205.
¹⁵ Cass. Dio, 51.2.1 ; 51.7.4. Des rois-clients de Rome sous Auguste cf. Bowersock 1965, 42–61.
¹⁶ Cass. Dio, 53.26.3. Au sujet de la date cf. Hardin 2008, 50–51, nᵒ 8. La situation ethnique en
Galatie avant son annexion à l’Empire romain cf. Sherk 1980, 954–1052.
¹⁷ Strab., 12.6.5. La critique complète des sources au sujet de la guerre des Homonades : Levick
1967, 203–206.
¹⁸ Plin., NH, 5.94 ; Anderson 1934, 271.
¹⁹ RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 830 (E. Groag).
20
 
territoires situés sur les versants nord des monts Taurus. De la plaie d’incursions
ont été libérées la Pisidie, la Phrygie et la Pamphylie, par contre sur le territoire
pacifié, en Pisidie et en Lycaonie, cinq colonies militaires ont été implantées (Olbasa, Cremna, Comama, Parlais, Lystra) qui jouaient le rôle de postes avancés de
la colonie principale romaine qu’était Antioche de Pisidie²⁰. Un élément important de la romanisation était la construction de la route (Via Sebaste), terminée
en 6 av. J.-C. par le gouverneur d’alors de Galatie, Cornutus Arruntius Aquila²¹.
Comme je l’ai déjà dit plus haut, à la base des sources disponibles, il est impossible d’établir la chronologie des actions militaires, de le récompense de irinius
qui en était le résultat, la fonction qu’il exerçait en qualité de responsable des
actions aux monts Taurus. Nous devons nous appuyer sur des hypothèses plus
ou moins probables. La responsabilité d’un énorme désordre dans la science qui
a été créé autour de la personne de irinius est due à un extrait d’inscription
intitulé Titulus Tiburtinus, retrouvé en 1764 aux alentours de Tivoli (ancienne ville
de Tibur), Via Tiburtina, entre le Pont Lucano et la Villa d’Hadrien²². Cet extrait
était en fait un éloge funèbre ; il appartenait à un sénateur inconnu de l’époque
d’Auguste qui avait une carrière politique et des mérites militaires considérables.
Dans la partie supérieure de l’inscription qui manque, il y avait son nom et ensuite les fonctions et les postes qu’il occupait, ses premières magistratures et les
succès les plus marquants. Les lignes du texte conservées sur la pierre sont une
continuation de ces événements-là. Dans la partie inférieure, abîmée elle aussi,
pouvaient se trouver les étapes successives du cursus honorum, et à la fin, le nom
du fondateur du monument.
Il résulte du texte de l’inscription que le sénateur inconnu en tant que légat
prétorien, était le commandant de l’armée au cours de la guerre en conséquence
de laquelle a été conquise la population qui habitait une région inconnue alors qua
redacta in pot[estatem Caesaris] | Augusti populique Romani et le texte parle d’un
roi ([r]egem) dont le nom n’est pas donné. Nous savons aussi que le commandant
a obtenu les ornamenta triumphalia pour récompenser ses mérites militaires (il
faudrait souligner le fait que les mots de l’inscription : ornamenta triumphalia,
ont été écrits en caractères espacés) ; en plus les doubles supplicationes ont été
ordonnées. Les étapes successives de la carrière du sénateur sont : gouverneur de
²⁰ Ramsay 1916, 83–134.
²¹ Les bornes routières : CIL, III, 14401 ; 14401b ; 141853 ; 6974 ; AE 1997, 1496. La construction de
la route, cf. Ramsay 1917, 238–239 ; Magie 1950, 463–464, nᵒ 1324–1324 ; Levick 1967, 38–41 ; Sherk
1980, 965–967. Cornutus Aquila, cf. PIR², A, 1137 ; Ramsay 1916, 96–100.
²² CIL, XIV, 3613 = ILS, 918. Les dimensions de la borne : 46,5 x 119,2 x 8 cm. Après la découverte de
l’inscription à Tivoli, à la cour de la maison Boschi (cf. Borghesi 1872, 126.). En 1828, l’inscription
a été placée aux Musées du Vatican, ensuite au dépôt du Musée du Latran, après quoi, en 1887,
elle a été exposée au Musée Pio Cristiano (Museo Pio Cristiano). Enfin, en 1963, elle a de nouveau
retourné aux Musées du Vatican où nous pouvons la regarder aujourd’hui avec un tableau en plâtre
incluant les compléments de Mommsen.
.     
21
..EGEM QVA REDACTA IN POT ………………………….
AVGVSTI POPVLIQVE ROMANI SENATV…………..
SVPPLICATIONES BINAS OB RES PROSP………….
I P S I O R N A M E N T A T R I V M P H ………………….
PRO CONSVL ASIAM PROVINCIAM OP ………………
DIVI AVGVSTI ITERVM SYRIAM ET PH ……………….
Fig. 1: Titulus Tiburtinus selon InscrIt, IV, 130.
la province d’Asie, et la double légation ainsi que gouverneur de Syrie et de Phénicie. L’expression divi Augusti nous suggère que l’inscription a été réalisée après
la mort d’Auguste et « notre » sénateur est mort justement à la même période.
L’état dans lequel l’inscription s’est conservée ne nous permet pas de reconnaître le nom de la personne à laquelle elle était consacrée. Les chercheurs ne
sont pas d’accord jusqu’aujourd’hui à ce sujet-là. Aux origines de cee discussion qui éveille toujours des controverses se trouve l’avis toujours actuel d’Enrico
Sanclemente qui s’est occupé le premier de cee inscription et a proposé la candidature de P. Sulpicius irinius. Plus tard, cee conception a été appuyée par
Bartolomeo Borghesi, eodor Mommsen, Hermann Dessau, William Ramsay,
F. Bleckmann, Anton G. Roos, Horst Braunert, Kathleen Atkinson, Geza Alöldy²³.
²³ Sanclemente 1793, 414–426. Pendant plus d’un demi-siècle, l’avis de Sanclemente était actuel.
Au milieu du XIXᵉ siècle, Richard Bergmann et trois ans plus tard, August Wilhelm Zumpt (1854,
109–125 ; 1869, 72–89) ont proposé C. Sentius Saturninus, cos. 19 av. J.-C. Leur argumentation n’était pas tellement convaincante pour obtenir l’approbation de Bartolomeo Borghesi (1872, 126–128,
493–501) et de eodor Mommsen. Le deuxième d’entre eux, de nouveau, comme Borghesi, a soutenu la candidature de P. Sulpicius irinius proposée il y a plus de cent ans (Mommsen 1883,
161–178). Pour cee candidature s’est prononcé aussi Hermann Dessau (ad ILS, 918 ; Dessau 1921,
252–258). À la base des arguments de Mommsen ont développé leurs travaux sir William Ramsay
(1898 ; 1915, 275–276 ; 1917, 229–283), et déjà au XXᵉ siècle, F. Bleckmann (1921, 104–112). Dans les
années 1920, s’est prononcé Edmund Groag (1922–1924, 445–478 ; RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 833). Il est
parti dans ses réflexions d’un critère qu’était le lieu des retrouvailles de l’inscription et il essayait
de prouver que l’extrait en question aurait pu constituer une partie d’un célèbre mausolée des
Plautii de Tivoli (Groag 1922–1924, 462–465 ; CIL, XIV, 3605 ; 3606 [= ILS, 921] ; 3607 = ILS, 964).
Contre la thèse en faveur de M. Plautius Silvanus s’est levé en 1934 Ronald Syme qui a proposé
22
 
[R]EGEM QVA REDACTA IN POT[ESTATEM IMP. CAESARIS]
AVGVSTI POPVLIQVE ROMANI SENATV[S DIS IMMORTALIBVS]
SVPPLICATIONES BINAS OB RES PROSP[ERE GESTAS ET ]
IPSI ORNAMENTA TRIVMPH[ALIA DECREVIT ]
PRO CONSVL ASIAM PROVINCIAM OP[TINVIT; LEGATVS PR. PR.]
DIVI AVGVSTI ITERVM SYRIAM ET PH[OENICEN OPTINVIT ].
(ILS, 918).
Fig. 2: Titulus Tiburtinus selon Ronald Syme (1973, 585).
L’un des premiers partisans de la candidature de irinius, eodor Mommsen,
a proposé à la fin du XIXᵉ siècle la lecture suivante de l’inscription (voir Fig. 3)²⁴.
Dans les lignes complétées de l’extrait perdu de l’inscription nous lisons que le
motif de l’aribution à irinius des ornamenta triumphalia et une double supplication vers les dieux immortels était la victoire dans la guerre contre les Homonades qui ont auparavant airé le courroux des Romains pour avoir provoqué
la mort du roi de Galatie, Amyntas. La reconstruction de l’inscription effectuée
la personne de L. Calpurnius Piso Pontifex, cos. 15 av. J.-C. (Syme 1934, 122–148). Deux ans plus
tard, prit part à la discussion Lilly Ross Taylor (1936, 161–173), proposant M. Titius, cos. 31 av. J.-C.
Cee hypothèse n’a pourtant pas été accueillie favorablement par la science et quelques années
après la publication de l’article, elle a été critiquée par Syme dans e Roman Revolution (Syme
2002, 396). Syme a répété son opinion concernant L. Calpurnius Piso Pontifex, n’excluant pourtant
pas P. Sulpicius irinius. Presqu’en même temps, en septembre 1938, au 1. Internationalen Kongress ür griechische und römische Epigraphik d’Amsterdam, Anton Roos s’est pourtant prononcé
d’une manière univoque pour irinius (Ross 1941, 306–318). À partir de la deuxième moitié du
XXᵉ siècle, jusqu’aujourd’hui, les querelles scientifiques au sujet de l’inscription intriguante de
Tivoli ne sont pas terminées. La candidature de irinius reste toujours la plus sérieuse (Braunert
1957, 192–214 et 209–211 ; Atkinson 1958, 314–319), pourtant les candidatures d’autres sénateurs
jouissent toujours de la popularité (L. Cornelius Piso Pontifex : Levick 1967, 208–210 ; Syme 1973,
583–601 = 1984, 869–884 ; 1986, 338–342). Dans les années 1980, encore un sénateur a été proposé,
P. inctilius Varus, cos. 13 av. J.-C. (Martin 1980, 65–75 et 178-80). Cee opinion n’a pourtant pas
trouvé de partisans jusqu’alors. Enfin, les années 1990, ont apporté encore trois conceptions et des
interprétations possibles. Il s’agit de la polémique entre Nikos Kokkinos et Claude Eilers publiée
dans le Zeitsri ür Papyrologie und Epigraphik. Le premier des chercheurs a accepté la thèse du
XIXᵉ siècle élaborée par Zumpt et Bergmann (C. Sentius Saturninus : Kokkinos 1995, 21–36), le
deuxième a approuvé le candidat de Syme, Piso Pontifex (Eilers 1996, 207–226). Dans les années
1990, Geza Alöldy (1997, 199–208) a aussi pris la voix à la discussion se prononçant fermement
pour P. Sulpicius irinius qui était pris en considération le plus souvent dans la discussion.
²⁴ Mommsen 1883, 177.
.     
23
Fig. 3: Titulus Tiburtinus selon eodor Mommsen (1883, 177).
par Mommsen a été acceptée par les partisans de la candidature de irinius,
par contre la conception de la double administration de la Syrie a été contestée
par de nombreux chercheurs²⁵. Mommsen a référé le mot iterum ([legatus pr.pr.]
divi Augusti iterum Syriam et Ph[oenicen optinuit]) à la Syrie suggérant que irinius l’a gouvernée deux fois. Partant de cee hypothèse, Mommsen et d’autres
chercheurs (qui essayaient à cee occasion-là de vérifier les mots de Luc l’évangéliste²⁶ et en même temps la date de la naissance de Jésus-Christ) ont considéré que
le problème principal était la chronologie de la première gouvernance de irinius en Syrie²⁷. Par contre, la plupart des chercheurs ont donné raison à Edmund
Groag qui a lié le mot iterum au mot legatus airant l’aention des chercheurs à
²⁵ Cf. Groag 1922–1924, 458–459 et 473–474 ; Syme 1934, 132–133.
²⁶ NT, Luc., 2.4–7.
²⁷ Mommsen 1883, 161–162 voulait voir irinius en Syrie à la fin de 3 et au début de 2 av. J.-C.,
c’est-à-dire entre la gouvernance de inctilius Varus et celle de Caius Caesar. Plusieurs chercheurs plus tard voyaient de la même manière cee question. Leurs avis différenciaient uniquement en ce qui concerne la date de la gouvernance. Emil Schürer (1973, 258–259 [4–2 av. J.-C.],
von Rohden et Hermann Dessau (1898, 287, nᵒ 732) étaient proches de la datation de Mommsen.
En 1916, la chronologie de la gouvernance de Syrie par P. Sulpicius irinius a été déplacée à la
période antérieure. Ramsay (1917, 229–230) datait la première gouvernance de irinius des années
11–7 av. J.-C., F. Bleckmann (1921, 106) des années 11–10 ou 11–9 av. J.-C. ; cf. aussi Dessau 1921,
252–258 ; Groag 1922–1924, 445–478 ; RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 822–843 (E. Groag) ; Ross Taylor 1933,
120–133 ; Broughton 1933, 134–144. L’avis sur la première gouvernance présumée de Syrie, a été
vérifié définitivement par Syme en faveur de la légation pro-prétorienne de Galatie-Pamphylie
(Syme 1933, 24 ; 1934, 132). L’hypothèse de Syme a été accueillie d’une manière positive dans la
science. Anderson 1934, 877–878 ; Corbishley 1936, 81–93 ; Roos 1941, 317 ; Magie 1950, 1322–1323 ;
Levick 1967, 206–214 ; Syme 1973, 591–593 ; Sherk 1980, 967–969 ; Syme 1995, 266 ; Alöldy 1997,
199–208.
24
 
la possible double légation de irinius²⁸. L’opinion de Groag qui nota bene a exprimé son avis dans un article consacré à un autre candidat au Titulus Tiburtinus,
M. Plautius Silvanus, a été soutenue par Ronald Syme²⁹. Le chercheur anglais a
souligné avec justesse qu’il ne fallait pas chercher par force un poste consulaire
en Orient pour irinius. Ce type de déduction est selon le scientifique « dangerous assumption »³⁰. Le fait que irinius était consulaire ne voulait pas dire que
ses compétences se limitaient uniquement aux provinces consulaires. L’argument
pour les provinces consulaires était le fait que l’armée y stationnait. La Galatie sur
le territoire de laquelle les combats ont eu lieu avait le statut prétorien et les légions romaines n’y stationnaient pas, mais seulement les auxilia. Récemment, ce
dernier avis a aussi été vérifié. Comme le suppose Syme³¹, irinius pouvait avoir
à sa disposition, pour les besoins de la guerre, trois légions venues de Balkans,
de Syrie et d’Égypte. Il faudrait prendre en considération le fait que nous parlons
des temps d’Auguste, quand le statut de certaines provinces orientales n’était pas
encore définitivement établi. Actuellement, dans la liérature prévaut l’opinion
selon laquelle irinius menait la guerre en Galatie en tant que le commandant
de Galatie-Pamphylie³².
L’établissement de la fonction qu’exerçait irinius en Orient pose autant des
problèmes que l’établissement de la chronologie de ses actions militaires contre
les Homonades. L’analyse la plus prudente des sources permet à peine de constater que ces événements eurent lieu après le consulat de irinius, c’est-à-dire
après l’an 12 av. J.-C. La discussion qui s’est déchaînée autour de la date se basait
pendent longtemps sur la première gouvernance présumée de irinius en Syrie que certains chercheurs ont déduite de Titulus Tiburtinus³³. D’autres sources
sont peu nombreuses et aussi peu précises. Ce sont des inscriptions, dont les unes
²⁸ Groag 1922–1924, 473–474.
²⁹ Syme 1934, 131–132.
³⁰ E. Groag (RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 832) croyait que l’Asie pouvait aussi être prise en considération (« Da außer Syrien in augusteischer Zeit Asia die einzige konsularische Provinz im Osten des
Reiches war und ihr Gebiet sich damals bis zu den Sitzen der Homonadenser erstreckte, bleibt die
Möglichkeit, daß irinius den Feldzug als Proconsul von Asia unternommen habe. »). Selon l’auteur, les frontières de cee province s’étendaient jusqu’aux sièges des Homonades. Cee opinion
a été beaucoup critiquée par Syme 1934, 133–134.
³¹ Syme 1973, 592–593 ; Sherk 1980, 968, nᵒ 50.
³² Syme 1934, 135–138 ; 1973, 585–601 ; Sherk 1980, 967–969 ; CAH ², X, 650 (B. Levick) ; Alöldy
1997, 207. Hardin 2008, 56 a souligné avec justesse que les sources disponibles ne permeaient
pas de trancher quelle fonction exacte assumait irinius en Orient. Il a constaté avec prudence
qu’il était certainement un simple commandant militaire et non pas légat parce qu’il était à cee
époque-là, duumvir en Antioche. À mon avis, cee hypothèse ne peut pas être confirmée parce
qu’il n’y a pas de preuve sur la date exacte de la guerre et n’est pas connue l’année où irinius
était duumvir.
³³ Mommsen 1883, 173 datait la guerre des années 3–2 av. J.-C. ; Ramsay 1917, 237–239 de 10 av.
J.-C. à 6 av. J.-C. ; Bleckmann 1921, 109 : dans les années 11–10 ou 11–9 av. J.-C., Groag (RE, IVA.1,
1931, col. 829–830), entre 12 av. J.-C. et 6 av. J.-C. Cee opinion a été soutenue par Dessau 1930, 612.
Cf. Strab., 12.6.5.
.     
25
aestent le duumvirat d’Antioche de Pisidie pour irinius, d’autres originaires
de cinq bornes routières de la via Sebaste, la route construite par le gouverneur
de Galatie, Cornutus Aquila, confirment la fin de la construction de la route en
6 av. J.-C. Les premières preuves épigraphiques énumérées ci-dessus ont déjà
été rejetées par Dessau ; il est difficile de dater le duumvirat aux temps de la
guerre des Homonades³⁴. En ce qui concerne les bornes routières qui viennent
da la deuxième moitié de l’an 6 av. J.-C., nous ne pouvons pas donner raison à
Ramsay³⁵, qui disait que la construction de la route était une preuve évidente
de la fin de la guerre et de la pacification de ces territoires. Ramsay proposait la
période entre les années 12–7 av. J.-C. et cet avis a été accepté dans la science sans
grandes objections. Syme pourtant a remarqué des défauts dans le raisonnement
de Ramsay (la route pouvait être construite aussi bien avant la guerre) et a proposé d’admere la durée de la guerre pour les années 4–3 av. J.-C., bien qu’il n’ait
pas exclu les années 9–8 av. J.-C.³⁶ Cee datation aurait pu être confirmée par le
silence de Dion Cassius quant à la guerre des Homonades, ce qui paraît incroyable
dans le cas de cet historien. La relation de Dion Cassius s’est conservée jusqu’en
6 av. J.-C., la période ultérieure, jusqu’en 4 ap. J.-C., ce ne sont que des résumés
des événements décrits par Dion, rédigés par les épitomateurs. Nous pouvons
admere que la guerre eut lieu justement à cee période-là. Bien que Levick n’exclue pas les années 11 et 9–6 av. J.-C., pourtant la période d’après 6 av. J.-C. est
considérée comme prioritaire³⁷. L’argument pour accepter cee hypothèse est le
fait que Dion dans son œuvre relate souvent les événements militaires, surtout
ceux marquants. La guerre des Homonades y appartient sans doute. En plus, l’historien n’oublie pas d’énumérer les noms des légats qui ont obtenu les ornamenta
triumphalia. Comme l’a bien remarqué Barbara Levick, parmi seize noms connus
jusqu’alors³⁸ récompensés par ce prix sous Auguste, les informations de quelques
autres nous étaient parvenues entre autres grâce à Dion Cassius³⁹.
³⁴ ILS, 9502–9503 ; Dessau 1921, 252–258. Cet avis a été approuvé par Syme 1934, 135 ; Levick 1967,
212–213.
³⁵ Ramsay 1917, 237–239.
³⁶ Pour les années 5/4–3 av. J.-C. se prononçaient Syme 1934, 131–132 et Levick 1967, 203–204 ;
Syme 1973, 592–593 = 1984, 875–876 ; Sherk 1980, 967–968 ; omasson 1984, 253 ; Rémy 1989,
132–133 ; Syme 1986, 332–333 ; 1995, 257–258 ; Magie 1950, 1322–1323 ; Alöldy 1997, 207 ; CAH ²,
X, 153–154 (E.S. Gruen) ; Hardin 2008, 56.
³⁷ Cf. Syme 1934, 138 qui a accepté hypothétiquement les années 4–3 av. J.-C. ; Levick 1967, 213.
³⁸ À l’exception d’Ignotus de CIL, XIV, 3613 et de L. Aelius Lamia, cos. 3 ap. J.-C.
³⁹ Levick 1967, 213. Dion Cassius mentionnait six cas connus des primés d’ornamenta triumphalia
sous Auguste (et non pas sept, comme le dit Levick) : Ti. Claudius Nero : Cass. Dio, 54.31.4 ; Nero
Claudius Drusus : 54.33.5 ; L. Calpurnius Piso, cos. 15 av. J.-C. : 54.34.7 ; C. Sentius Saturninus, cos.
19 av. J.-C. : 55.28.6 ; Cossus Cornelius Lentulus, cos. 1 av. J.-C. : 55.28.4 ; Germanicus Iulius Caesar : 56.17.2. Dans le dernier lieu donné, à l’an 9 ap. J.-C. (Cass. Dio, 56.17.2), l’historien a inscrit
Germanicus et d’autres commandants dont les noms ne sont pas énumérés, primés de la même
récompense. Comme le suppose Gordon 1952, 314, il pouvait s’agir de M. Aemilius Lepidus, cos.
6 ap. J.-C., M. Plautius Silvanus, cos. 2 av. J.-C. et C. Vibius Postumus, cos. suff. 5 ap. J.-C.
26
 
La datation des ornamenta triumphalia qui ont été aribués à irinius à la demande d’Auguste après la guerre des Homonades, comme la datation de la guerre
sont hautement hypothétiques. Elles dépendent de la chronologie de la guerre et
dans cee matière, il y a peu de choses sûres. Si nous acceptons l’avis de Syme
selon lequel la guerre eut lieu dans les années 9–8 av. J.-C., ou dans les années
4–3 av. J.-C.⁴⁰, ou bien celui de Levick laquelle a proposé les années 11 et 9–6 av.
J.-C. ou après 6 av. J.-C., ou encore l’avis d’Alöldy qui soutient la proposition
des années 5–3 av. J.-C.⁴¹, alors nous pouvons admere avec précaution que les
ornamenta étaient aribués de 11 av. J.-C. jusqu’en 3/2 av. J.-C.⁴² Le terminus ante
quem sont des années 2–3 ap. J.-C., quand irinius était de nouveau délégué en
Orient en tant que conseiller de Caius Caesar et il ne faut pas oublier qu’entre
l’aribution des ornamenta triumphalia et la mission en Orient, irinius était
encore le gouverneur d’Asie ou d’Afrique.
Les ornamenta triumphalia ne constituaient pas la fin de la carrière de irinius qui a été honoré du duumvirat d’Antioche de Pisidie, une colonie fondée
par Auguste⁴³, et ensuite, comme, c’était déjà mentionné avant, il était proconsul
de la province d’Asie ou d’Afrique⁴⁴. Une distinction était sans aucun doute la
mission en Orient dans les années 2–3 ap. J.-C., durant laquelle il accompagnait
en qualité de comes le fils adoptif d’Auguste, Caius⁴⁵. Dans les années 6–7 ap. J.-C.,
et peut-être encore plus longuement, jusqu’en 8/9 ap. J.-C., en tant que le légat
d’Auguste, il prit la gouvernance de la province de Syrie⁴⁶. Il a fait éliminer le
tétrarque Hérode Archélaos et a fait annexer la Judée à Rome. Il y a effectué un
recensement⁴⁷ qui permeait à Rome de préciser sa politique fiscale à l’égard de
cee partie de l’Empire. Il a aussi écrasé la révolte contre Rome qui a éclaté en
⁴⁰ Syme 1934, 138.
⁴¹ Levick 1968, 213.
⁴² Cf. Barini 1952, 45 ; Gordon 1952, 313 proposait avec un point d’interrogation les années 11–7 av.
J.-C.
⁴³ ILS, 9502–9503. Sur les inscriptions découvertes en Antioche de Pisidie, un citoyen respecté
C. Caristanius Fronto Caesianus Iulius a été défini comme praef(ectus) P. Sulpici irini IIviri,
praef(ectus) M. Servili.
⁴⁴ Alöldy 1997, 207. La plupart des chercheurs se prononcent pour l’Asie : Bleckmann 1921, 110 :
7–6 av. J.-C. ; Ramsay 1917, 274 : 5–2 av. J.-C. ; Syme 1995, 266. De Laet 1941, 239–241 ne le mentionne
pas. C.R. Whiaker (CAH ², X, 612) considère qu’il s’agit du proconsulat d’Afrique.
⁴⁵ Tac., Ann., 3.48 : Sub idem tempus ut mors Sulpicii irini publicis exequiis frequentaretur petivit a senatu. nihil ad veterem et patriciam Sulpiciorum familiam irinius pertinuit, ortus apud
municipium Lanuvium : sed impiger militiae et acribus ministeriis consulatum sub divo Augusto,
mox expugnatis per Ciliciam Homonadensium castellis insignia triumphi adeptus, datusque rector C. Caesari Armeniam optinenti. Tiberium quoque Rhodi agentem coluerat. Cf. RE, IVA.1, 1931,
col. 836–837 (E. Groag) ; Syme 1973, 601 = 1984, 883–884 ; Halfmann 1986, 245–246. C. Caius : Cass.
Dio, 55.10a.6–7 ; 10.18 ; Suet., Tib., 12.2 ; Vell. Pat., 2.102 ; Plin., NH, 2.168 ; Oros., 7.3.4. Romer 1974,
93 ; Syme 1995, 317–318.
⁴⁶ Ramsay 1917, 274 ; Bleckmann 1921, 110 ; RE, IVA.1, 1931, col. 838–839 (E. Groag) ; De Laet 1941,
241 ; omasson 1984, 304–305 ; Alöldy 1997, 207.
⁴⁷ Au sujet du recensement réalisé par irinius en 6 ap. J.-C. et la révolte en Judée qui a éclaté
par sa suite, écrit Iosephus Flavius (AI, 17.355 ; 18.1–3 ; 26. Cf. CIL, III, 6687 = ILS, 2683 [Apamaea] :
.     
27
Judée contre le recensement, aisée par les Juifs commandés par Judas le Galiléen.
La Judée fut annexée à la province de Syrie et elle était soumise directement à son
gouverneur Sulpicius irinius, bien qu’elle fût gouvernée par un préfet qui lui
était sujet⁴⁸.
irinius vivait et agissait à un moment clef pour l’histoire de Rome. Sa carrière tombait à l’époque des premiers princeps, Auguste et Tibère. Il était l’un de
ces premiers commandants, qui grâce à la réforme de la politique d’aribution
des prix étaient primés d’ornements triomphaux. Comme l’un des premiers sous
le principat, il a été dépourvu de la possibilité de célébrer le triomphe et a été
honoré d’ornamenta triumphalia, peu après leur constitution par Auguste⁴⁹ ; il
était aussi l’un des derniers primés de ce genre de prix avant la naissance de
Jésus-Christ⁵⁰. Sous la république il aurait sans doute obtenu pour ses mérites le
droit au triomphe parce que le succès qu’il a remporté était significatif. Justin
Hardin a exprimé le résultat des actions de irinius exceptionnellement bien :
« he Pax Romana that trickled down even to this remote region of central Anatolia became the vehicle for spreading imperial ideology throughout the cities
of Galatia »⁵¹. irinius a écrasé la révolte d’une peuplade nombreuse d’Homonades qui vivaient dans quarante-quatre castella, dans des monts Taurus inaccessibles. atre cents prisonniers de guerre ont été capturés. Comme l’a justement
remarqué Levick, le succès dans la guerre contre une tribu du centre de l’Asie
Mineure, était aussi important que les guerres menées sous Auguste par Drusus
ou Tibère en Germanie et dans les Balkans⁵². La guerre a duré au moins deux
ans (si c’est justement irinius qui est titulaire de Titulus Tiburtinus, l’inscription mentionne les doubles supplicationes), sa signifiaction considérable résultait
de difficultés logistiques relatives au terrain des actions militaires. Les succès de
irinius peuvent être comparés à la victoire remportée à l’époque de Cornelius
Sulla par P. Servilius Isauricus, consul en 79 av. J.-C., qui en tant que gouverneur
de Cilicie (depuis 78 av. J.-C.) menait dans la province des guerres victorieuses
Q. Aemilius Q. f. | Pal. Secundus [in] castris divi Aug. s[ub] | P. Sulpi[c]io irinio le[gato] | C[a]esaris
Syriae honori|bus decoratus, pr[a]efect. | cohort. II classicae ; idem | iussu irini censum egi | Apamenae civitatis mil|lium homin. civium CXVII ; | idem missu irini adversus | Ituaraeos in Libano monte
| castellum eorum cepi ; et ante | militiem praefect. fabrum | delatus a duobus cos. ad ae|rarium, et in
colonia | quaestor, aedil. II, duumvir II, | pontifexs. | ibi positi sunt Q. Aemilius Q. f. Pal. | Secundus f.
et Aemilia Chia lib. | H. m. amplius h. n. s.). À irinius et le recensement ordonné par lui, se
rapporte aussi Luc l’évangeliste (NT, Luc., 2.4–7). Ces deux relations contradictoires ont provoqué
du désordre parmi les chercheurs. Les détails, y compris la discussion au sujet du recensement
Schürer 1973, 399–427 ; Schreckenberg 1980, 179–209. Cf. aussi Rist 2005, 489–491.
⁴⁸ Sartre 1991, 362.
⁴⁹ Cf. n. 4.
⁵⁰ Le dernier était L. Domitius Ahenobarbus, primé en 1 av. J.-C. pour les succès remportés en
Illyrie et en Germanie.
⁵¹ Hardin 2008, 57.
⁵² Levick 1967, 214.
28
 
contre les pirates et contre les Isaures. De son retour à Rome, en 74 av. J.-C., il a
célébré un triomphe et a obtenu le surnom d’Isauricus⁵³.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE TREATY OF MISSENUM (39 BC)
AND THE “FOURTH TYRANT”
P B
D
uring several summer days of 39¹ on the inshore waters of the Bay of
Naples workers were driving stilts into the sea on which they then put
wooden planks to make a platform. Two such platforms separated from
each other by a strip of water were made. One platform was linked with the
land by adding a footbridge. It was on these “stages” that events essential for
the future of Rome and its rulers were to unfold. When the construction was
finished Mark Antony and Octavian coming from the land took their places on
one platform. To the second one a warship approaching from the sea moored
with Sextus Pompeius and L. Scribonius Libo (later consul in 36). When both
delegations had taken their places talks began. While the leaders were discussing
the content of the concord, the water flowed between the platforms still separating them, though not disturbing the conversation itself. In this unusual scenery
the discussions lasted probably several days. Perhaps the wooden “stages” were
repeatedly le and occupied again though it seems that the majority of the talks
were conducted by mediators. In the course of the hard negotiations both sides
achieved an agreement: its contents were wrien down, sealed and sent as a
deposit to the Temple of Vesta in Rome.
It is not certain if the descriptions of the meeting of the two triumvirs with
the son of Pompey the Great in the Bay of Naples by Appian and Cassius Dio
are accurate.² As a maer of fact it is not of great importance. What intrigues
modern historians is the reasons which led to the encounter of Octavian and
Sextus Pompeius, who treated each other with outright hostility, the course and
the result of the negotiations and finally the permanence of the concord called
in historiography the “Treaty of Missenum”.³ e sources at our disposal talk the
most about the decisions which were taken in Missenum, while the rest demands
from historians a certain degree of mental exercise.
¹ If not stated differently all dates refer to the period BC.
² e account by Dio differs slightly from that by Appian.
³ More rarely called the Treaty of Puteoli.
31
32
 
***
e factors leading to the appointment in Missenum must have been complex.
e fact that Octavian was ready to discuss with his true enemy says much about
the contemporary situation. From the very beginning the aitude of Caesar’s
heir towards Sextus Pompeius was marked by the formula of confrontation. To
tell the truth we do not know what Octavian’s opinion was on the aempt undertaken by some Caesarians who endeavoured to achieve some kind of concordance
with Sextus in the summer of 44. However, a year later when Sextus gained from
the senate the title of praefectus classis et orae maritimae with the competence
similar to that given earlier to his father Pompey the Great, Octavian was very
reluctant to this initiative.⁴ He revealed his intentions when the first opportunity
arose i.e. aer his march to Rome in August 43 and aer being proclaimed consul.
e lex Pedia, which was submied by Q. Pedius, another consul and also Caesar’s nephew, ridiculously recognized Sextus as one of the dictator’s assassins. In
November, already aer what is called the Second Triumvirate was set up, Sextus
was proscribed by power of the lex Titia as many other political opponents of the
triumvirs were.
In these conditions practical completion of the function of the praefectus
classis was not possible. e son of Pompey the Great, so far presenting a
wait-and-see aitude (from the second half of 44 Sextus’ main base was located
in Massalia), decided to act. Already in December 43 or at the very beginning of
42 he landed with his forces in Sicily and occupied its towns without considerable
resistance removing the current governor of the island ranked pro praetore Pompeius Bithynicus. Henceforth Sicily became a base from which Sextus conducted
his raids to the Italian coasts and for all other marine operations.⁵
e triumvirs devoted the first half of 42 to the preparations for war with
Marcus Brutus and Caius Cassius, the leaders of the anti-Caesar conspiracy, who
had gathered a great army in the East. e bale between the triumvirs and the
tyrannicides took place in October 42 in Philippi in essaly and it brought a
decisive victory for Antony and Octavian.⁶ However, only three months earlier
Octavian had decided to declare a war on Sextus Pompeius nursing a hope that
he would defeat the opponent and would occupy Sicily quickly. If that was the
⁴ is time the proposal of collaboration originated from Republicans. It is hard to believe that
Cicero, so active in those months, was not one of the driving forces of the agreement. For more
on the role of Cicero in these events see Berdowski (forthcoming). For more general discussion of
the conflict of Antony with the senate and Cicero see Goer 1996, passim (on Cicero see especially
107–130).
⁵ On the conquest of Sicily and the role of the island in Sextus’ policy see Hadas 1966 [1930],
71–74; Powell 2002, 109–111; Stone 2002, 135–165. See also CAH ², X, 434–448 (R.J.A. Wilson) (though
I do not concur with his opinion that Sextus’ government of Sicily was such a destructive time for
the island).
⁶ For more on the war between the triumvirs and the tyrannicides see Syme 1939, 202–206.
    (39 )   “ ”
33
actual calculation of Octavian he displayed wishful thinking. Sextus had significant forces, above all a huge fleet. On the other side Salvidienus Rufus, a general and Octavian’s friend headed his fleet. Sextus defeated him in the bale of
Scylleum at the entrance to the Strait of Messana in July or August 42 (as far as we
know the only bale in this war). Salvidienus’ failure was caused by the worse
training of his mariners and the current in the strait which surprised him.⁷ As a
result of the bale of Scylleum Octavian abandoned the idea of further aacks
on Sextus and joined Mark Antony, who anxiously waited for Caesar’s heir to
arrive in Brundisium, from where they were going to get to Macedonia with the
help of their ships. Sextus Pompeius made good propaganda use of his victory in
Scylleum, especially in his coinage.⁸ On the other hand the defeat of Octavian’s
forces stuck firmly in his mind and he bore a grudge for a long period of time.
e reasons why Octavian proclaimed the war on Sextus in 42 were more
complex than the protection and the later supplying of the landing army in Macedonia.⁹ As I tried to demonstrate elsewhere,¹⁰ Octavian was afraid of Sextus not
only because of his military power on the sea but also because of the potential
cooperation between him and Antony. Such an alliance would produce mortal
danger for Octavian. In addition, Sextus was a significant rival of Caesar’s heir in
the propaganda war which both of them drew on referring to their charismatic
fathers. Octavian realized prey well that Sextus was popular enough in Rome,
which is confirmed by Appian and Cassius Dio as well.¹¹
at the alliance between Sextus and Antony was not a theoretical option
Octavian was to become convinced immediately aer the Perusian War which
he waged with Lucius Antony, brother of Mark, and with Fulvia, his wife.¹² Admiedly they were defeated by Octavian, who strengthened himself considerably
(particularly when he seized the legions of L. Munatius Plancus and later the legions of Q. Fufius Calenus too) but the conflict with Antony appeared on the horizon instead. e episode with Antony’s siege of Brundisium could have unfolded
into a regular civil war while the position of Octavian was not as good as might
be suggested by the number of the legions under his command. On Antony’s way
⁷ App., BC, 4.85–86; Cass. Dio, 48.18.
⁸ Cf. my forthcoming article, Sextus Pompeius, Octavian and the Bale of Scylleum (42 B.C.) (in
Polish).
⁹ When the triumvirs started to move their forces to Macedonia Sextus behaved cautiously and
did not disturb them. e same is not true of Staius Murcus an old officer of Caesar who had his
“private” fleet of 80 ships (App., BC, 5.25). On Murcus see RE, IIIA.2, 1929, col. 2136–2139 (Münzer,
s.v. Staius 2); Welch 2002, 49–50.
¹⁰ Cf. Berdowski, Sextus Pompeius, Octavian and the Bale of Scylleum (42 B.C.).
¹¹ App., BC, 4.85; Cass. Dio, 48.31.2–5.
¹² On the Perusian War see Syme 1939, 207–213; Gabba 1971, 139–160. On Lucius and Fulvia see
Roddaz 1988, 317–346; Bauman 1992, 83–89.
34
 
from Greece to Italy Domitius Ahenobarbus joined him.¹³ Antony’s actions were
also supported by Sextus Pompeius, who apart from the fact that he conquered
Sardinia driving M. Lurius from the island also effectively aacked coastal areas in south Italy. Antony together with Sextus and Domitius had 500 ships at
his disposal, which meant that Octavian was defenceless on the sea. Despite the
propaganda practised by Octavian and the depiction of the war with Antony as
a war with Sextus Pompeius, the struggle with Antony was all the more difficult
as the veterans were in no hurry to fight with the famous winner from Philippi.¹⁴
How difficult Octavian’s situation was may be proved by a prey surprising
event connected with Salvidienus Rufus, a friend of Octavian from his early years
and one of his most important and trusted commanders.¹⁵ During Antony’s siege
of Brundisium Salvidienus undertook confident negotiations with him proposing
that he take Antony’s side.¹⁶ When the spectre of civil war was prevented and
the triumvirs came to an agreement, Octavian in an act of revenge did not hesitate to order Salvidienus to be murdered.¹⁷ e readiness of Salvidienus to join
Antony might arise from reasons which are not mentioned in our sources but the
most probable explanation is that Salvidienus intended to sympathize with the
stronger. As it turned out he outbid himself in his calculations not taking into
account the possible concord between Octavian and Antony.
e support provided by Sextus during the Brundisian War was prized by
Antony; but it was not necessarily Antony himself that asked Sextus for this
help. As long as our sources are correct, the initiative was that of Sextus.¹⁸ In any
case fatum seemed to favor this alliance. Aer the Perusian War Lucius Antony
was treated by Octavian in a friendly manner (there is no doubt that it was only
a tactical move because Octavian was scared of Mark Antony), while Fulvia fled
to Athens and Antony’s mother Julia Antonia le Italy and went on to Sicily to
Sextus Pompeius.¹⁹ From there she was escorted with full gallantry to Greece by
Lucius Libo and C. Sentius Saturninus, who carried at the same time the proposal
from Sextus to Antony. He was to answer the emissaries that if Octavian violated
the previous decisions made by the triumvirs he would join his forces with Sextus.
If Octavian kept the promised word Antony would still aspire to bring Octavian
closer to Sextus.²⁰ is reserve was only for show. e later events proved beyond
¹³ App., BC, 5.55. On Domitius Ahenobarbus see RE, V.1, 1905, col. 1328–1331 (Münzer, s.v. Domitius 23); Welch 2002, 49–50.
¹⁴ App., BC, 5.57.
¹⁵ On Salvidienus Rufus see RE, IA.2, 1920, col. 2019–2021 (Münzer, s.v. Salvidienus 4).
¹⁶ App., BC, 5.66.
¹⁷ App., BC, 5.66; Cass. Dio 48.33.1–2.
¹⁸ ough Appian suggests that it was the opposite (BC, 5.63).
¹⁹ App., BC, 5.52.
²⁰ App., BC, 5.52. A confidential agreement between Antonius and Sextus had to be an “open
secret”, since Octavian speaking with Lucius Antony used this argument as an excuse for taking
    (39 )   “ ”
35
a shadow of a doubt that Antony and Sextus had indeed decided to cooperate. In
the spring of 40 they had already “given their word” to each other.
Despite the fact that Octavian accused Antony of a secret alliance with Sextus
Pompeius,²¹ he himself took certain steps which might help him to bring himself
to the Pompeians. As Appian writes: he wrote to Maecenas to make an engagement
for him with Scribonia, the sister of Libo, the father-in-law of Pompeius, so that he
might have the means of coming to an arrangement with the laer if need be.²²
ese actions are commonly understood as an aempt to bring Octavian closer to
Sextus,²³ but it is more likely that Octavian wanted to win Libo’s favour. is rapprochement opened for him different possibilities: Libo more than once played a
role of mediator.²⁴ In reality Octavian did not gesture towards the reconciliation
with Sextus. From 43 the son of Pompey the Great was among others standing
accused of the murder of Caesar. Admiedly Octavian sent Mucia, Sextus’ mother, to him with the assignment to negotiate with Sextus, but these actions were
absolutely not adequate.²⁵
***
Already in July or August 40 Sextus occupied Sardinia driving M. Lurius from
the island. At prey much the same time Antony arrived in Brundisium, but he
was not allowed to enter the town and he decided to start a siege.²⁶ Simultaneously Sextus aacked coastal areas of south Italy, among other things laying siege
to urioi and Consentia. e legions of Antony occupied Sipontum (as it turned
out later, only for a short period of time). It is hard to believe that those actions
were not coordinated.
Octavian sent Marcus Agrippa with soldiers to hold Brundisium, where five
legions stationed, but despite spurring them to fight most of them were not too
keen to take up arms against the victor from Philippi (Agrippa had to lie telling
the soldiers that they would fight with Sextus, not Antony²⁷). e war really had
not yet developed when both sides started negotiations. From Antony’s side they
were conducted by Asinius Pollio and Lucius Cocceius, while Octavian was represented by Maecenas.²⁸
over the legions of Marcus Antonius’ commander Calenus (App., BC 5.54: περὶ Ἀντωνίου, σαφῶς
ἤδη καὶ Πομπηίῳ συνθέσθαι λεγομένου). Cf. Cass. Dio, 48.27.5.
²¹ App., BC, 5.54.
²² App., BC, 5.53. All translations of Appian’s Civil Wars are by H. White in Loeb Classical Library.
²³ Cf. Southern 1998, 67; Barre 2002, 19–20.
²⁴ On Libo see Welch 2002, 51–53.
²⁵ Cass. Dio, 48.16.3.
²⁶ App., BC, 5.56. On the Brundisian War see Syme 1939, 214–218.
²⁷ App., BC, 5.57.
²⁸ App., BC, 5.60–64.
36
 
e decision made in Brundisium again delimitated the border between the
triumvirs’ domains:²⁹ Octavian was to control the Western part of the Empire and
Antony the Eastern one – the border ran through Ilyria. Lepidus got Africa but
from then his role was marginal. Both sides kept the rights to recruit soldiers in
Italy. Additionally Octavian reconciled with Domitius Ahenobarbus. It was decided too that Antony would conduct war with the Parthians, and Octavian: was to
make war against Pompeius unless they should come to some agreement (πολεμεῖν
δὲ Πομπηίῳ μὲν Καίσαρα, εἰ μή τι συμβαίνοι). e alliance was strengthened by
the marriage of Antony with Octavia, Octavian’s sister who had recently become
a widow. A gloomy accent of Antony and Octavian’s reconciliation was the death
of Salvidienus, who was sentenced aer an impromptu trial.³⁰
e agreement from Brundisium turned Antony’s relations away from Sextus.
Antony had (at least officially) to claim his readiness to act against Sextus. It does
not seem that this was a surprise for Sextus. e years following Caesar’s death
saw more than one instance of turning away from alliances. It is worth mentioning that Antony never acted personally against Sextus, which is important
inasmuch as, unlike Octavian, Antony had a fleet which might be used to fight
with the son of Pompey the Great.
Paradoxically the position of Sextus Pompeius aer the Treaty of Brundisium
was not essentially worse than before. is was caused by two factors: first, Sextus’ unquestioned military advantage on the sea; second, the ambivalent aitude
of Antony towards the ruler of Sicily. Sextus also still firmly held Sardinia and
Corsica and the ring of his ships around Italy considerably hindered supplies. e
starvation in Rome was accompanied by riots. e plebeians endeavoured to put
pressure on Octavian to start negotiations with Sextus.³¹ e rage was directed to
both triumvirs, though Antony was treated much more favourably than Octavian.
As Appian explains it was caused by Antony’s readiness to reach an agreement
with Sextus, which was contested consistently by Octavian.³² In this situation
Antony pressed Octavian to speed up the war at least. is required money which
the triumvirs lacked. ey imposed different taxes which added fuel to the disastrous public feelings. e plebeians were brutally pacified by Antony’s soldiers,
which led to peace in the city but it did not solve the problem of starvation.³³
ese events happened in the early months of 39.
In this atmosphere Octavian was geing used to thinking that the agreement
with Sextus was unavoidable. As a maer of fact — as it seems — both sides endeavoured to regulate the tense relations. Antony told Libo’s relatives: that they
²⁹
³⁰
³¹
³²
³³
App., BC, 5.65.
On the Treaty of Brundisium see Syme 1939, 217.
App., BC, 5.67.
App., BC, 5.68.
App., BC, 5.68.
    (39 )   “ ”
37
should summon him from Sicily for the purpose of congratulating his brother-in-law,
and to accomplish something more important; and he himself promised him a
safe-conduct.³⁴ is information is surprising inasmuch as it is not certain what
marriage Appian had in mind. If Octavian had not yet divorced Scribonia, who
was Libo’s sister, we should think that Libo was to congratulate Octavian and
Scribonia. Reportedly Octavian moved Scribonia away on the same day when she
gave a birth to his only child Julia.³⁵ Immediately he took Livia to his house, even
though the marital formality was not yet completed. If Libo was to congratulate
Octavian because of Livia it would have been unusual bearing in mind that the
new marriage of Octavian struck at Libo’s sister. It is much more probable that
in the first half of 39 Octavian still lived with Scribonia.³⁶
e people in Rome were to support Libo’s delicate mission at the same time
exhorting Mucia, the mother of Sextus Pompeius, to go to Sicily and to put pressure on her son to work towards rapprochement between him and the triumvirs.
As Appian says she was to be threatened with having her house in Rome set on
fire.³⁷ Finally Libo succeeded in persuading Antony and Octavian that the best
possible solution was to meet with Sextus personally. It happened in e Bay of
Naples near Missenum and Puteoli.³⁸
***
Cassius Dio says that the leaders met each other in Missenum. Appian does
not specify exactly the place where the wooden platforms were set up,³⁹ but he
mentions that when Sextus was arriving at the destination place he passed Puteoli (Appian uses its Greek name Dikaiarcheia) in sight of his enemies.⁴⁰ ough
sources are silent on this subject one can safely assume that the idea of the wooden platforms in the sea came from Sextus Pompeius and his circle. It is possible
that the security factor played a role (theoretically thanks to the platforms Sextus
might evacuate himself quickly to his ship).⁴¹ In my opinion though it was main³⁴ App., BC, 5.69.
³⁵ Cass. Dio, 48.34.3.
³⁶ Unfortunately we do not know when Octavian dismissed Scribonia. Cf. Fantham 2006, 22; Barre 2002, 20, writes that: “e divorce took place in the laer part of 39, immediately aer the birth
of their daughter Julia”.
³⁷ App., BC, 5.69.
³⁸ Appian writes that also Sextus was under pressure of his circle to make peace with the triumvirs. Probably Libo was in this group and also Murcus encouraged him to do this. Only Menas
(Menodorus apud Appianum) was to be against the peace. He played his own game with Murcus.
Suspicious Sextus believed Menas’ slur and Murcus was treacherously murdered (App., BC, 5.70).
us died one of the defenders of the Republic, a man of high principles.
³⁹ Dio (48.36.1) writes not about platforms but about a causeway. According to him Sextus was to
take his place on the causeway whereas Antonius and Octavian on the land.
⁴⁰ App., BC, 5.71.
⁴¹ Cf. Cass. Dio, 48.36.1.
38
 
ly about the symbolic meaning. Sextus Pompeius consequently developed the
idea of his sonship towards divine Neptune: a significant role in this process was
played by Sextus’ success in the Bale of Scylleum in 42 (Octavian’s ignominious
failure in this bale must have had a bier taste for him⁴²). e wooden platforms
in the Bay of Naples underlined that not descending from his ship to land “the
son of Neptune” remained in the domain of his divine father and his own. is
presented Sextus in a prey comfortable propaganda seing.
e leaders were accompanied by considerable military forces:
there was present also the whole fleet of Sextus and the whole infantry of the other
two; and not merely that, but the forces on the one side had been drawn up on the
shore and those of the other side on the ships, both fully armed.⁴³
e phrases the whole fleet and the whole infantry referring respectively to Sextus’ fleet and the triumvirs’ infantry should not be understood literally, though
forces on both sides must have been significant. No one could have predicted if
an aempt at negotiation would not have ended with some kind of incident.
e first meeting was probably quite official in character. One can doubt
whether except for exchanging the negotiating stances anything additional was
decided. Appian told us what Sextus’ initial demand was: he wanted participation
in the triumvirs’ power by taking Lepidus’ place. Antony and Octavian rejected
this postulate. e negotiations were difficult and they lasted several days at least.
Most of them were conducted by emissaries: negotiations were continued on the
part of friends, who advanced various proposals from one side to the other.⁴⁴ Appian
says that both sides acted under pressure: Antony and Octavian from the side of
the citizens in Rome and Sextus from the side of those proscribed by triumvirs
and who stayed in Sicily (they treated their situation as temporal and hoped to
come back to Italy as soon as possible).
Finally the consent was reached. We know the details of it thanks to Appian
and Dio.⁴⁵ ey were as follows:
1. the war on the sea and on the land between Octavian and Sextus will be
finished and Sextus will withdraw all his military forces from Italy and
will break the blockade. From then the trade will be conducted without
any obstacles and Sextus’ ships will not reach Italian shores.
⁴² In the summer of 39 no one could imagine that the scenario of the Bale of Scylleum would be
repeated in the same place in 38 (Cass. Dio, 48.47–48).
⁴³ Cass. Dio, 48.36.2. All translations of Dio’s Roman History are by E. Cary in Loeb Classical
Library.
⁴⁴ App., BC, 5.71.
⁴⁵ App., BC, 5.71–72; Cass. Dio, 48.36.3–6.
    (39 )   “ ”
39
2. Sicily, Sardinia and Corsica and other islands in the hands of Sextus will
remain his domain as long as Antony and Octavian continue their extraordinary control over the Empire (Dio says that Sextus’ authority was to be
limited to five years⁴⁶). However, Sextus will send duties in corn to Rome
which were imposed on the island. Sextus will get Peloponnese too.
3. Sextus will not provide shelter for the slaves who escaped from their masters. ose who were in this situation at the moment of the treaty assignment should be freed. Free men being in the pay of Sextus aer they finish
their service will be rewarded in the same manner as veterans of Antony
and Octavian.
4. e proscribers will have a choice to come back to Italy and to get back
1/4 of their estates’ value (most of their estates were in the hands of new
owners now). Antony and Octavian will buy land for them from their own
funds. e murderers of Caesar (certainly it was confined only to those
who were with Sextus) will live undisturbed in exile.
5. e estates of those who were illegally deprived of them and of those who
escaped from Italy driven by fear will be given back to them in their entirety, excluding the movables.
6. Sextus will be appointed augur and consul. It was intended in advance that
he would hold his function in absentia with the help of his representative
and that his consulate would be held in 33 together with Octavian.⁴⁷
7. Sextus will get 17.7 million Aic drachms as compensation for his father’s
estate which was confiscated by Caesar aer the Bale of Pharsalos.
e agreement was wrien as an official document, sealed and sent to the
Temple of Vesta in Rome. When the consent was established the leaders gave a
series of feasts. e first of them was on Sextus’ ship and similarly to the next ones
it was accompanied by a tense atmosphere and a lack of trust since — as Appian
writes — the banqueters were girded with concealed daggers.⁴⁸ Both Appian and
Dio transmied to us an anecdote connected with the banquet on Sextus’ ship:⁴⁹
Menas (Menodorus) persuaded Sextus to kill Antony and Octavian who were
defenceless on the ship. Sextus answered Menas in the way Alexander the Great
once spoke with Parmenion, i.e. that such a deed would be appropriate for Menas
but not for Sextus himself. e decisions from Missenum were strengthened by
⁴⁶ Cass. Dio, 48.36.5; cf. 48.36.6: ey limited him to this period of time because they wished it to
appear that they also were holding a temporary and not a permanent authority.
⁴⁷ e names of consuls for the years 34–31 were also decided: in 34 M. Antonius and L. Libo
were expected to be consuls, in 33 Octavian and Sextus Pompeius, in 32 Domitius Ahenobarbus
and Caius Sosius; in 31 Antonius and Octavian.
⁴⁸ App., BC, 5.73.
⁴⁹ App., BC, 5.73; Cass. Dio, 48.38.2; Plut., Ant., 32.
40
 
the symbolic act of the engagement of Sextus’ daughter Pompeia to M. Claudius
Marcellus, a nephew of Octavian.⁵⁰
e question is open whether Appian and Dio transmied all the decisions
taken in Missenum. We cannot be certain about this. However, it seems that the
list is not necessarily complete. Accepting the chronology of Sicilian emissions of
Sextus’ denarii and aureii proposed by Sylvaine Estiot, it would mean that aer
39 Sextus ceased using the function praefectus classis et orae maritimae and the
title imperator iterum.⁵¹ If this is correct, this might be the object of the decision
in Missenum. For Octavian the title “imperator for the second time” must have
been particularly irritating because Sextus was acclaimed imperator iterum aer
the Bale of Scylleum in 42 which was lost by Octavian’s general Salvidienus
Rufus. Estiot thinks that Sextus abandoned previous titles, which is to be proven
by the inscription found in 1893 in Lilybeum:
Mag(no) Pompeio Mag(ni) f. Pio imp(eratore), augure, | co(n)s(ule) des(ignato),
| por[ta]m et turres | L. Plinius L. f. Rufus leg(atus) pro pr(aetorae), pr(aetor)
des(ignatus), f(aciendum) c(uravit).⁵²
e inscription was erected by Sextus’ legatus L. Plinius Rufus probably not long
aer the Treaty of Missenum and before Octavian and Sextus became enemies
again. In the text Sextus appears as consul designatus which was established in
Missenum. Also he has the title of imperator but this refers to his first imperator
acclamation, which probably took place aer Sextus’ victory over Asinius Pollio
in Spain in 43.⁵³ Using by Sextus the title of consul designatus when the war with
Octavian started might have been prey inappropriate. However, one cannot
exclude that the inscription is later and Sextus considered his future consulate as
an obligation to be fulfilled regardless of the conflict with Octavian. If yes, it had
a purely propaganda meaning.
e response to decisions in Missenum was enthusiastic both among soldiers
who were in Missenum and the people in Rome when the news reached the capital. Dio describes the cheerful reaction of soldiers and others who were in Missenum and who shortly before were on the opposite sides of “the barricade”.⁵⁴
eir behaviour verged on hysteria since during the reconciliation many persons
were trampled or strangled. Rome and Italy were overcome with the same joy:
When the Romans and Italians learned the news there was universal rejoicing at the
return of peace and at their deliverance from intestine war, from the conscription of
⁵⁰
⁵¹
⁵²
⁵³
⁵⁴
Cass. Dio, 48.38.3.
Estiot 2006, 145–146.
ILLRP, 426 = ILS, 8891.
Cf. Hadas 1966 [1930], 54–55.
Cass. Dio, 48.37.2–9.
    (39 )   “ ”
41
their sons, from the arrogance of guards, from the running away of slaves, from the
pillage of fields, from the ruin of agriculture, and, above all, from the famine that had
pressed upon them with the greatest severity.⁵⁵
It is plausible that the euphoria was common, although there were also people
who were not satisfied; among them new owners of the estates which were confiscated during the proscriptions. It would be naive to think that because of the
peace between the triumvirs and Sextus Pompeius all the negative phenomena
were — as Appian writes — removed. Opening of the trade routes certainly helped
to supply food to Rome and Italy, but the problems generated by the colonization
of the veterans, the wreaking havoc on fields, the crisis of agriculture were still
current.
***
Despite the gestures shown directly aer the agreement, the practical realization of the decisions from Missenum was hard going. Sextus removed the blockade of Italy and stopped his raids but these decisions might have been changed
in one day. As it seems the only permanent and fully accomplished postulate
was returning of the exiles to Rome and the restitution of their civil rights and
properties. Undoubtedly it was a great success of Sextus. He did not take control
over Peloponnese, as it was planned, and he did not exact payment for his father’s property, not to mention the prospect of holding the consulate, which was
completely unrealistic in those conditions. Even if Sextus assumed the function
of augur (certainly in absentia) in fact it was not much.
***
e treaty of Missenum turned out to be extraordinarily impermanent. It
seems that just aer a few months the relations between Octavian and Sextus
deteriorated to such a degree that conflict was unavoidable. Antony did not take
part in those games, though among the reasons which led to the conflict sources
mention that Antony caused difficulties for Sextus in taking control over Peloponnese.⁵⁶ However, the main pivot of the conflict was between Octavian and
Sextus Pompeius. Probably we will never learn with whom responsibility lay in
breaking the Treaty of Missenum. e preserved evidence presents in principle
the Augustan point of view. Appian does not hide this view: the treaty existing between Octavian and Pompeius was broken for other reasons, as was suspected, than
⁵⁵ App., BC, 5.74.
⁵⁶ App., BC, 5.77; Cass. Dio, 48.39.1.
42
 
those avowed by Octavian, whi were the following.⁵⁷ Appian mentions a disagreement between Sextus and Antony about whether the contribution which Peloponnesians owed to Rome should be collected by Antony or Sextus. e historian
adds that Octavian claimed that Sextus was driven by his general faithlessness
and his jealousy of the triumvirs, who had large armies, and that he succumbed to
Menas’ instigation, who was to convince the ruler of Sicily that the Treaty of Missenum was in fact not a permanent agreement but only a suspension of military
action and if so it was necessary to get ready for the confrontation. According to
Menas it was to initiate the expansion of Sextus’ fleet and the new recruitment
of mariners. e pirates appeared in the liorals of Italy again and they invaded
the coastal areas. As Appian writes: there was lile or no relief from the famine
among the Romans, who cried out that the treaty had brought no deliverance from
their sufferings, but only a fourth partner to the tyranny.⁵⁸ Despite Sextus cuing
himself off from the pirates’ activity some of them were captured by Octavian
and aer they were tortured they gave evidence against Sextus admiing that
they cooperated with him.
We must read with care these sources which shi the guilt of breaking the
Treaty of Missenum on to Sextus Pompeius. Appian states clearly that the real
reasons were numerous and complex. Dio says plainly that both Sextus and Octavian were looking for the pretext for inciting the war, because neither side wanted
to keep the agreement: for since they had made their agreement, not of their own
free will or by oice, but under compulsion, they did not abide by it for any time
to speak of, but broke the truce at once and quarrelled.⁵⁹ Apart from the mention
about the Peloponnese affair one can find in Dio that Sextus bore grudges against
Octavian because the heir of Caesar did not want to turn in Menas, who betrayed
Sextus and joined Octavian giving him Sardinia and the garrisons which stationed
on the island. As a response to this Sextus was to aack the Italian coast. One of
his commanders plundered Volturnum and the other parts of Campania.⁶⁰
Unfortunately the exact course of events in 38 is not known to us and we are
not sure if the betrayal of Menas and occupying Sardinia by Octavian were casus
beli or rather an effect of the earlier offensive military operations. If we accept
the first version it is not a surprise for us that Sextus’ reactions were the coastal
raids and the new blockade of Italy.
⁵⁷ App., BC, 5.77: Καίσαρι δὲ καὶ Πομπηίῳ διελύθησαν αἱ γενόμεναι σπονδαί, κ α τ ὰ μ ὲ ν
α ἰ τ ί α ς, ὡ ς ὑ π ε ν ο ε ῖ τ ο, ἑ τ έ ρ α ς, αἱ δὲ ἐς τὸ φανερὸν ὑπὸ τοῦ Καίσαρος ἐκφερόμεναι
αἵδε ἦσαν.
⁵⁸ App., BC, 5.77: μικρὸν ἢ οὐδὲν ἄκος τοῦ λιμοῦ γεγένητο Ῥωμαίοις, ὥστε ἐβόων οὐκ ἀπαλλαγὴν
τῶν κακῶν, ἀλλ’ ἐπίληψιν τ ε τ ά ρ τ ο υ τ υ ρ ά ν ν ο υ κατὰ σπονδὰς γεγονέναι.
⁵⁹ Cass. Dio, 48.45.4–5: οἷα γὰρ οὐκ ἐθελονταὶ οὐδ’ ἐκ προαιρέσεως ἀλλὰ ἀναγκαστοὶ τὴν ὁμολογίαν πεποιημένοι, χρόνον οὐδένα αὐτῇ ὡς εἰπεῖν ἐνέμειναν, ἀλλ’ εὐθὺς τὰς σπονδὰς λύσαντες
διηνέχθησαν.
⁶⁰ Cass. Dio, 48.46.1.
    (39 )   “ ”
43
Mark Antony clearly did not share Octavian’s conduct. When Octavian asked
him for consultation about the war with Sextus, Antony came to Brundisium to
discuss the issue, but not finding Octavian there he returned to Greece. However,
he sent a leer in which he had wrien to him: not to violate the treaty, and he
threatened Menodorus with punishment as his own fugitive slave; for he had been
the slave of Pompey the Great, whose property Antony had bought when it was sold
under the law of war.⁶¹
e war between Octavian and Sextus must have started not later than in the
middle of the year 38. Probably at the same time or not much earlier Octavian
dismissed Scribonia. It seems that both sides treated the Treaty of Missenum as
a temporary one. It is possible that Octavian was more aggressive than Sextus.
When he took Sardinia there was no place for the negotiations: the real intentions
of Caesar’s heir were clear enough for Sextus. Unfortunately for Octavian the
war with the son of Pompey the Great turned out to be very hard and it brought
Octavian a number of defeats.
***
e treaty of Missenum already at the moment when it was signed bore a
temporariness and a provisionality of the solutions. It did not progress the political transformation of the Republic and did not even organize the competences
of the signatories. In this field it was only an annex to the Treaty of Brundisium
between Antony and Octavian. Missenum sanctioned a territorial division of the
Roman world into the areas of influence of the particular leaders, which has to
be interpreted as a lack of distinct advantage for each of them. Octavian agreed
to admit Sextus the rights to Sicily and Sardinia but he did not do it of his own
free will. It was quite the opposite: he did it under the pressure of the public
opinion in Rome and the common dissatisfaction because of the shortage of the
food supply. Probably Antony himself put pressure on Octavian too.
e feuding sides sat at the negotiation table because they needed a contract.
However, there was no symmetry between the three signatories. e relations
between Octavian and Sextus were clearly polarized, while Antony acted as a
mediator, open for both sides of the conflict. anks to this open aitude his
position was distinctly the strongest one. is sensible aitude was confirmed by
his deeds aer Missenum. When the war between Octavian and Sextus seemed to
hang by a thread Antony was warning Octavian against it. When the war became
a fact he was not willing to participate in the affair.
⁶¹ App., BC, 5.9.79: μὴ λύειν τὰ συγκείμενα καὶ ἠπείλει Μηνόδωρον ἀπάξειν ὡς ἑαυτοῦ δραπέτην· γεγένητο γὰρ Πομπηίου Μάγνου, τὴν δὲ τοῦ Μάγνου περιουσίαν ὁ Ἀντώνιος ἐώνητο νόμῳ
πιπρασκομένην ὡς πολεμίου.
44
 
ere are opinions that the balance of the Treaty of Missenum was for Sextus
unprofitable. As Kathryn Welch writes:
Sextus personally lost much. Soon to be under aack again, he found it far harder
to keep any cause to the forefront and suffered the indignity of being called a fourth
Triumvir. A camp which until 39 had been characterized by remarkable harmony
between Romans and Greek collaborators was torn apart by factional strife, not now
among the Romans and Greeks, but among the Greek naval experts who had contributed so much. Less and less could Sextus picture himself as legitimate opposition;
fewer and fewer wanted to see him as legitimate because it would disturb consciences
that were growing ever more dull.⁶²
is is true. However, we should have in mind that Sextus acted in specific conditions, which were favourable for him only on the surface. e heir of Pompey the
Great dominated the sea, he blocked and aacked Italy, but it was all that he was
capable of. Without a regular land invasion on Italy the defeat of Octavian seemed
impossible to achieve. ough Sextus had the greatest fleet, he was defenceless
towards Octavian on the land. Indeed most of the sources underline that the son
of Pompey the Great was popular in Rome, especially among the wealthy class,
but also among the plebeians (though this popularity cannot be measured). In
contrast Sextus did not have a strong card among soldiers, both the veterans and
the serving ones. It meant that he did not have a solid base to trigger the revolt
in Italy which could be a danger for Octavian, no less. Harassment activities did
not have enough persuasive potential do to this. In such a situation the aitude
of Antony was crucial. Several months before, during the Brundisian War, Sextus
supported Antony, probably nurturing a hope for the alliance with him. Antony
did not reject the proposal but treated Sextus with reserve. He was constant in
his aitude to Sextus. He never openly acted against him.
ere is no point in accusing Sextus of indecisiveness, delaying tactics or having no program of defence of the Republic from Octavian. Such a thesis was
among others propagated by Moses Hadas, who expressed his opinion that Sextus’ indecisiveness was as it were inherited from his father.⁶³ But it was not the
original concept. e critical tradition towards Sextus derives from Appian, who
accused Sextus of lack of strategic concept, neglecting of military opportunity and
even cowardice.⁶⁴ With a few exceptions scholars commonly accepted Appian’s
view.⁶⁵ Anton Powell thinks that the cautious aitude of Sextus (for example not
invading Italy on a full-scale) was a part of his strategy. Powell underlines the
⁶²
⁶³
⁶⁴
⁶⁵
Welch 2002, 53.
Hadas 1966 [1930], 61.
Cf. App., BC, 5.25. See Powell 2002, 104–105, who analyses Appian’s statements.
Ronald Syme (1939, 228) himself followed Appian’s path naming Sextus an adventurer.
    (39 )   “ ”
45
ideological dimension of Sextus’ policy, which is true, but in my opinion what
should be stressed are the military conditions and the balance of power between
the son of Pompey the Great and the triumvirs. In the particular conditions Sextus
did what he could. Only the alliance with Antony might change the balance of
power and open new possibilities for Sextus. However, Antony did not take the
decision to destroy Octavian, neither during the wars in 40 nor in the following
years. He was more and more absorbed with the East and was losing his valuable
political instinct. In this context the tactic of Sextus to decide the conflict with
Octavian on the sea was reasonable. If Sextus had had the luck to kill Octavian
in bale it would have changed his position dramatically. Sextus was very close
indeed to achieving this goal in Tauromenium.⁶⁶
In the case of Sextus Pompeius his successes in Missenum went hand in hand
with his failures. One has to ascribe to him as an important propaganda success the decision about the amnesty for the proscribers and the refugees and the
repayment to them of 1/4 value of their confiscated estates. As Welch rightly
observes, this move deprived Sextus of those people who stayed with him from
43 and who supported him not only orally. Within their coming back to Italy Sextus’ legitimization to act as a defender of the Republic was weaker.⁶⁷ Appian and
Dio underline that the exiles impatiently awaited the chance for coming back
to the homeland. One can doubt whether they could have been stopped if the
triumvirs had decided unilaterally to proclaim an amnesty. Among the people
around Sextus the situation had been geing worse and worse for some time.
e death of Murcus, the betrayal of Menas, quarrels among Greek commanders,
all those things weakened Sextus. Maybe he was overconfident of his possibilities
and he believed that his divine father’s care would help him to overcome all the
adversities. We can see both sides of the coin when we look at honours obtained
by Sextus in Missenum. Without doubts the consulate and the augurate were the
source of prestige and they strengthened the legal position of Sextus. However,
there was a price to be paid for being a “fourth tyrant”, and this was a fall in
popularity in Rome.
If for someone the Treaty of Missenum was advantageous that person was
Antony. For Octavian and Sextus Missenum was only a certain stage in the future conflicts: it gave them a breath and allowed for reorganizing of their forces
before further activities. e symbolic gestures as the marriage of Octavian to
Scribonia or the engagement of Pompeia to Marcellus did not change the situation at all. Both Octavian and Sextus already leaving Missenum started to ponder
new strategies of confrontation.
⁶⁶ App., BC, 5.109–111.
⁶⁷ Welch 2002, 53.
46
 
Bibliography:
Barre A.A., 2002, Livia. First Lady of Imperial Rome, New Heaven.
Bauman R.A., 1992, Women and Politics in Ancient Rome, London.
Berdowski P., (forthcoming article) Cicero and Sextus Pompeius (in Polish).
Estiot S., 2006, Sex. Pompée, la Sicile et la monnaie. Problèmes de datation, in Aere perennius. En
homage à Hubert Zehnaer, J. Champeaux, M. Chassignet (eds.), Paris, 125–153.
Fantham E., 2006, Julia Augusti. e Emperor’s Daughter, London.
Gabba E., 1971, e Perusine War and Triumviral Italy, Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 75,
139–160.
Goer U. 1996, Der Diktator ist tot! Politik in Rom zwisen des Iden des März und der Begründung
den Zweiten Triumvirats, Stugart.
Hadas H., 1966 [1930], Sextus Pompey, New York.
Powell A., 2002, An Island amid the Flame: e Strategy and Imaginary of Sextus Pompeius,
43–36 BC, in Sextus Pompeius, editors A. Powell and K. Welch, London, 103–133.
Roddaz M.C., 1988, Lucius Antonius, Historia 37, 317–346.
Southern P., 1988, Augustus, London.
Stone S.C. Jr, 1983, Sextus Pompey, Octavian and Sicily, American Journal of Araeology 87, 11–22
[revised edition: Stone S.C. Jr, 2002, Sextus Pompeius, Octavianus and Sicily, in Sextus Pompeius,
editors A. Powell and K. Welch, London, 135–165.]
Syme R., 1939, e Roman Revolution, Oxford.
Welch K., 2002, Sextus Pompeius and the Res Publica in 42–39 BC, in Sextus Pompeius, editors
A. Powell and K. Welch, London, 31–63.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
ON THE PAST AND CONTEMPORARY CHARACTER
OF CLASSICAL ARCHAEOLOGY
E B
C
lassical archaeology is one of the first and oldest branches of archaeology
practised in Europe. Although its roots are usually believed to lie in the
exceptional fascination for antiquities in the period of the Renaissance,
they actually reach much deeper. Interest in the relics of ancient civilisations is
deeply inscribed in the self-identification of various peoples of Europe, in the
grounds of their cultural identity. e Romans appreciated the Greek works of
art, appropriating and copying them on a massive scale, and this process of recognition of the Greek cultural heritage as theirs, defined and legitimised their own
cultural domination. en, the expansion of Christianity played an unique role in
the consolidation of the importance of ancient traditions in Europe, and its central position in the process of exposing Greek and Roman antiquities stems from
the fact that both Latin and eastern orthodox Christianity acknowledged these
traditions as their own and incorporated into their own history.¹ Christianity was
simply based on the enormous cultural achievements of Antiquity and using its
vivid and inspiring presence.
I should mention here a much wider problem concerning the “living antiquity” observed in the history of Europe in general and the causes of such vitality
which is the reason why we spoke and most oen still speak of the Greco-Roman
foundations of European civilisation, albeit some argue that such an approach to
Antiquity has already declined.² is issue is very extensive and complex, and
moreover only to some extent overlaps with the question of the development
and history of classical archaeology, thus I will only mention it here briefly.
It is a known fact that the splendour of Greece shone also on the Roman
world but it seems that it happened not only by way of appropriation of cultural achievements. Despite the sometimes difficult Roman-Greek relationship and
oen exploitative Roman aitude to the Greek cultural heritage, to some extent
cultural exchange took place on the basis of reciprocity. What’s more, it is ultimately through the mediation of the Romans that the Hellenic culture flourished
¹ Mille 2007, 31–33.
² Morris 2004, 256.
47
48
 
on various areas of their huge empire and was thus passed to subsequent periods
of history. You could say that already in antiquity the first synthesis of complex
achievements of the ancient culture took place on a great scale. It would then
influence the Medieval and Renaissance Europe, and from modern times each
epoch would create its own model of antiquity and make further interpretations
and syntheses of its sophisticated achievements.³
In the Renaissance we observe a beginning of a genuine enthusiasm for specific areas of the Greco-Roman antiquity, with particular emphasis on architecture,
sculpture, painting and cras. People began to notice the possibility of relating
these relics to the then wrien sources, which resulted in developing certain rules
of conduct. In later times they gave rise to research methods and enabled the
development of classical archaeology and they certainly distinguish it from all
other areas of archaeology. erefore, it should be noted that the term “classical
archaeology” neither refers directly only to a region or a section of chronology,
as it happens in a number of other archaeologies, nor just to the material sources
(mostly art) that have acquired the status of “classic”. is is archaeology related to a broader concept, a concept which constituted during the development of
the so-called classical studies on the broadly defined “classical world”, certainly a
very capacious term. “e Classical World” is above all the world which produced
literary sources, sources which acquired the status of “classic” in Western civilisation. e term classical archaeology mainly refers to such a world. However,
it has also got some time-space, historical boundaries; most researchers tend to
consider them as areas dominated by the Greeks and Romans between the eighth
century BC and fourth century AD. Some scholars pinpoint the exceptional conventionality and problems with such extensive caesurae.⁴ Classical archaeology
is the archaeology of such a world.⁵
To return to the history of classical archaeology and the Renaissance, it should
be noted that it was then that a common perception of both Greece and Rome
originated. It resulted from the conviction, born at the time and consolidated in
later times, of the uniqueness of the Roman and Greek world in European history,
the world which, along with other works of art, le over a unique number of texts
of their own culture. Starting from the time of the Renaissance it was clearly noticed and widely recognised in Europe that the level of intellectual development,
as well as the degree of conceptualizing the world, achieved in antiquity, is the
³ Lecture of Professor T. Kotula “Starożytność wiecznie żywa” [Antiquity Alive], delivered during the ceremony of honouring Him with Doctor Honoris Causa of the Adam Mickiewicz University in Poznan, on 13 March 2007. Source: website of the Department of History of Ancient Societies at the Institute of History of AMU; http://www.staff.amu.edu.pl/~zhsa/index.php?option=
com_content&task=view&id=85 [April 2011].
⁴ Morris 2004, 257–258.
⁵ Osborne and Alcock 2007, 1.
     
49
foundation of the civilised life. Undoubtedly this, with the rise of Christianity, began to be seen as the foundation of Western civilisation, but to some extent was
also used by Western imperialism, based on the idea of ​the timeless significance
of these achievements (which is sometimes synonymous with the term “classic”),
thus on the evaluative belief of the superiority of this world.⁶ Hence, inter alia,
negative, or at least ambivalent assessment of classical archaeology appearing
from time to time, as its history is in some way intertwined with the perception
of the unique role of the classical world in the history of European civilisation. As
archaeology was to have been based on such a conviction, it is believed to have
contributed to the perpetuation of the traditional order.⁷ It was also a reason why
classical archaeology adopted new theoretical and methodological approaches in
science to a lesser extent, not to mention opening to current discourses within the
humanities and social sciences, which have more strongly influenced prehistoric
archaeology.⁸ It should be noted here that within some contemporary scientific discourses (postmodernism, postcolonial studies), that sometimes represent a
radically critical approach (in my opinion oen too unilateral, simplifying and
not making efforts to go deeper into the complexity of the criticised phenomena),
traditional and valuating terms such as “civilisation” and “classic” are regarded
as pejorative, and which, in this sense, should be rejected.⁹
Going back to the complex history of classical archaeology, only upon a deeper reflection can we understand what it was and what it is today. I must emphasise
that this is undoubtedly the archaeology not only of the places and material remains discovered in the classical world, functioning during its historical development, but also archaeology regarding the meaning of these places, continuously
updated in the history of Europe. ese material relics (not to mention wrien
sources), especially the architecture and art, have been endowed in the history
of the Western culture with unique values ​that have exerted a lasting influence
on the development of the Western sensibility and perception of the world.
We are therefore entitled to state that the classic legacy is a common past
of the whole Europe (thus classical archaeology is all European countries’ own
archaeology), regardless of the extent to which the prehistory also creates the
past, and to what extent it is formed by archaeologies of the regions and peoples,
⁶ Dyson 2006, XIV; Osborne and Alcock 2007, 2.
⁷ Whitley 2001, 10; Morris 2004, 256.
⁸ Renfrew 1980, 290–295; Snodgrass 1985, 31–37; Dyson 1993, 195–196; Whitley 2001, 12–16. e
laer strongly emphasizes that although long aer World War II classical archaeology did not
accept new theoretical trends that prehistoric archaeology adopted, it surely was never a science
lacking strong theoretical foundations and its basic, fully-defined theoretical paradigm was the one
that can be described as “Hellenism”, Whitley 2001, 16.
⁹ Harris 2006, 51–54 compare the definition of terms “civilisation”, “civilised”, “civilising”, “civil”,
“civilian”, “uncivil” and “classical”/ “class”, “classic”, “classy”.
50
 
who in vast majority lived outside the classical world.¹⁰ erefore, classical archaeology held an exceptionally privileged position for a long time (which is not
the case nowadays, when all disciplines are treated equally and research assume
a pluralistic approach), because, to some extent, similar to classical studies, it not
only dealt with exploring the ancient past, but was to read the values developed
in the ancient world and communicate them to next generations.¹¹ Moreover,
these values were drawn from the concept of “Hellenism”, developed already
in the eighteenth century, continued in nineteenth, which idealised this unique,
classic Greek past which was believed to have been the almost exclusive roots of
“Europeanism”.¹²
However, there are two factors that seem to be the main reasons of the independent development of classical archaeology in relation to other branches of
archaeology and of its specific character. On the one hand, it is a huge amount
of ancient works of art, as well as iconographic representations, temples and
other buildings, which preserved to modern times. is legacy — or rather its
magnitude and aesthetic qualities — contributed to focusing on the study of art
and architecture in classic archaeology, and at the same time lack of interest and
underestimation of all other relics of ancient material culture and believing them
unworthy of study. On the other hand, a huge number of ancient wrien sources,
including primarily the numerous inscriptions, set classical archaeology in a privileged position in relation to archaeology of prehistoric societies. Wrien sources,
always regarded as more important than material remains, only “illustrating” the
former, were almost uncritically considered for a long time a “real” insight into
the ancient world.
To continue the reflection on the history of classical archaeology, I must emphasize the fact, significant in the context of what has been said above, that both
archaeology and art history have common origins. Both began to slowly emerge
in the eighteenth century, as a part of the same process of replacing the tradition
of antiquarian amateur research — collecting, knowledge and different types of
studies on antiquity — to eventually establish itself as modern, academic disciplines in the last decades of the nineteenth and the early decades of the twentieth
century, basing on the classification and chronological (the former) and stylistic
(the laer) paradigm. e key figure of that change in the eighteenth century
was J.J. Winckelmann, who related the ancient literary sources regarding the development of ancient sculpture to relics that were preserved in Rome. e world
of ancient art was hitherto perceived as a monolith, without a historical per¹⁰ Osborne and Alcock 2007, 2.
¹¹ Whitley 2001, 11–12.
¹² Ian Morris spoke most critically on the idea of “Hellenism”, born mainly in the circle of German
science and widespread throughout Europe, and even in the United States, and on its negative
impact on the archaeology of Greece, see Morris 1994, 8–47; 2004.
     
51
spective that Winckelmann gave it. He was more interested in the works than
artists’ biographies, and asking about the reasons for the diversity of styles, he
gave comprehensive responses, taking into account the technical skills, historical
and geographical conditions, expressed meanings, and even the moral aitudes of
recipients. He even started to use the concept of style, characterising it due to the
historical volatility. However, the parabolic model, which he suggested (archaic
style, sophisticated, beautiful and decadent), strongly influenced the perception
of the development of art in general, as it regarded the classical Greek art a model and standard and raised it to the rank of the absolute, thus mythologizing and
excluding it from the historical process. For Winckelmann, the zenith of human
artistic achievements was connected with a period characterised by development
of freedom and democracy, and the uniqueness of the Greeks manifested itself in
the ability to choose and adopt the most perfect forms of nature, according to the
imitative scheme, and creating perfect entities out of them.¹³
On the grounds of classical archaeology, which started to function to a large
extent as a history of ancient art, archaeologists began to distinguish between
works of art relevant to the discussion on the aesthetics, and the usual artefacts
that did not deserve closer aention. e distinction was made on the basis of
the technical level of works, their aesthetic impact and artistic value, that were
to reveal the peculiar features of the Greek, Roman and Egyptian imagination.
According to this model, an ancient vase was raised to the rank of a work of art,
especially when it was marked with signatures of poers and painters. Moreover, the depicted scenes, and above all their style, started to serve as a source
of knowledge of the unpreserved ancient monumental painting described in the
ancient texts.
Specific research methods originated, mainly connoisseur ones, like aributive method — the close study of works of art with a view to aributing them to
an individual artist or workshop, extensively developed in case of A. Furtwängler, and his study of gems and above all sculpture, as well as J.D. Beazley and
the study of vase painting.¹⁴ Relationship between classical archaeology and art
history became numerous, and among common research orientations, the issues
of formal and stylistic analysis and iconographic-iconological method proved to
be the most important and enduring,¹⁵ although other, more recent research approaches have also found their place in classical archaeology and are successfully
practised.¹⁶
¹³
¹⁴
¹⁵
¹⁶
Bianchi Bandinelli 1988, 36–52; Pos 1994, passim; Sichtermann 1996, 80–106.
Snodgrass 1987, 16–17; 2007, 19–23; Whitley 2001, 36–41.
Lang 2002, 168–250.
Hölscher 2000, 147–165; Bergmann 2000, 166–188.
52
 
With time, there appeared discrepancies in the research procedures of classical archaeologists and art historians, partly rooted in a different kind of sources
traditionally studied by representatives of these disciplines, and resulting from
different contemporary aitude of art historians and archaeologists to the world
of works and artefacts remaining outside the academic study. It is a fact that many
art historians have got numerous links with the art market and all expertise activities in this field. What’s more, connoisseur profiles are sometimes promoted
in education. Most frequently it does not go beyond the moral standards of practice of the profession and does not cause the loss of historic value of works. In
case of archaeology and trade of antiquities it is usually the opposite, and such
activities, mostly illegal, lead to the destruction of sites, their looting and irretrievable loss of source data for science. Hence, the present especially negative
approach to relating assumptions connected with the meanings and the messages
inherent in the modern concept of art, which remains an autonomous sphere of
aesthetic contemplation or expression of creative imagination of individuals, to
archaeological sources. e museums have been particularly heavily criticised, as
their antique collections are generally created on the basis of aesthetic qualities
of the collected items, treated as works of art completely emancipated from the
cultural contexts in which they were formed and functioned. Opinions appeared
that archaeologists should play a key role in the aempts to comprehend and
interpret the ancient material sources, which ancient works of art are, in order to
remove them from the framework in which the aesthetic and market value plays
a leading role.¹⁷
Unfortunately, these very complex relations of classical archaeology and art
history, as well as the criticised domination of the former by long-time studies
on these special artefacts that in modern European culture acquired the status
of works of art, was the reason why modern classical archaeology, rightly reformulating its research areas, sometimes unnecessarily abandons its tremendous
achievements in the study of ancient art. It should be emphasised that thereby archaeology resigns from accomplishments built up over decades of its functioning by a variety of intellectual traditions of many nations that practised it.¹⁸
I think therefore, in accordance with major figures of contemporary classical archaeology, that it is a completely unnecessary deprivation of an inspirational
source of great tradition.¹⁹ Moreover, resigning from such research is even more
incomprehensible today, in a situation where art history, cultural anthropology
or the so called visual studies, cope with the contemporary globalisation of the
¹⁷ Sco 2006, 628–629; Dyson 2006, 224–228.
¹⁸ Cf. a textbook on classical archaeology (Alcock and Osborne [ed.] 2007), cited in this paper,
wrien recently by a large group of eminent specialists, in which there is no separate chapter on
the study of ancient art/visual culture.
¹⁹ Whitley 1987, 9–15; 1993, 7–33.
     
53
world of images, and emphasising the trans-cultural community in the human
relations with images, each in a different way aempts to reach the meanings of
the visual artefacts of other eras and cultures. Classical archaeology should not
abandon this field. I believe that the identification of classical archaeology with
art history, which was to have been a reason, among others, of its “backwardness” and low susceptibility to applying theories eagerly adopted by prehistoric
archaeology, it is not legitimate. is problem is complex and will not be further
addressed, but considering the above discussed issue of the connections between
archaeology and art history, I would just like to mention that the laer is involved
in ongoing theoretical debates, drawing inspiration from them, and applying in
their studies.²⁰ It seems that at some point in its development classical archaeology unnecessarily separated itself too radically from art history (just like from
history), while at the beginning of its development, studies inspired by theoretical reflection, namely a kind of phenomenology of art or histories of human
achievements, together with interpretations of these, were its determinant, as is
emphasised by A. Schnapp in his works.²¹ Most likely, classical archaeology began
to focus too much aention on the study of preserved elite ancient texts. In addition, researchers engaged themselves almost exclusively in huge excavations on
important sites in the Mediterranean world, requiring excellent organisation. is
entailed a necessity to describe and catalogue a vast quantity of discoveries and
findings and resulted in narrow specialisations as well as fragmentation of the research and activities. A view began to dominate that making generalisations and
addressing new research problems can be made on the basis of specialised compendia of sources, on the ground of solid and systematic collections, which was
probably still the aermath of the Enlightenment ideas straight from the onset of
the discipline, later reinforced by positivistic aitude to science. Hence there has
been lile interest in new trends and reflection on conceptualizing knowledge.²²
erefore, classical archaeology for a long time remained focused solely on
objects. It was archaeology ruled by various types and classes of artefacts and
works of art, not archaeology focused on addressing problems. is has been
changing lately. More than one hundred years of tradition of such research has
led to extraordinary knowledge of material sources, artefacts, developed in a connoisseur way — researchers generally have no problem to determine what the
item is, where it comes from, how it was made and how to date it. However, car²⁰ Literature in this area is huge, I recommend reading the work of Mariusz Bryl (2008), thoroughly
discussing the problem of embedding the history of art in various theoretical currents and debates
of contemporary humanities.
²¹ e author cites, among others, such books as C.O. Müller, Handbu der Aräologie der Kunst,
Breslau 1830 and C.B. Strack, Systematik und Gesite der Aräologie der Kunst, Leipzig 1880 —
cf. a paper by Schnapp 2002, 134–135 and a wider reflection on the issue in an earlier book —
Schnapp 1998, passim.
²² Snodgrass 1987, 1–35; Dyson 1993, 195; Carstens 2004, 13.
54
 
rying out research means formulating problems, not describing artefacts, even if
we recognise the phase of source study as valid and necessary. Today, classical
archaeology asks what paerns of human behaviour are represented in the artefacts and the excavated sites, how to read the sources as witnesses of the social,
religious and political life of the ancient societies of Greece and Rome, how we
can explain the distribution of various products, what was the reason of diffusion
of artistic styles, fashions and ways of making works of art, etc.²³
Aer the above observations, briefly showing very complex relationships between classical archaeology and art history, I would like to refer to several other,
in my view equally important issues related to the history and development of
classical archaeology.
I should mention that ancient culture, especially its classical period, was a major source of ideas in modern Europe for centuries. Over time in many countries it
began to function as a basis for ideal humanistic education, which was particularly widespread in the nineteenth century. ese phenomena assumed a particular
form in Germany,²⁴ where admiration for the classical culture, especially Greek,
was reflected e.g. in the trend called “neohumanism”. Its distinguished representatives, such as Wilhelm von Humboldt, even promoted a reform of education,
starting from the secondary level, in order to generally introduce the so-called
humanistic gymnasium. e objectives of the reform were certainly very noble,
and education was understood as a mission of forming human beings. Nevertheless, the focus of education primarily on the classical culture and Greek art (that
is, the way it was perceived and interpret at the time), accompanied by pushing
teaching practical skills into the background, together with an interest in contemporary culture and art, led to the detachment of education from the relations
with the then social practice.²⁵ Undoubtedly, Humboldt’s much greater merit,
permanently inscribed in the organisation of the academic life in Germany, and
actually of a large part of Europe, was preparing a conceptual framework and
the actual opening of a university in Berlin in 1810, with the supreme ideas of
academic freedom, and above all the unity of education and research necessary
at the university level.²⁶
To make a general comment on what has been mentioned above in terms of
Germany and its approach to classical culture in education, I have to mention
that especially since the nineteenth century the classical culture remained for a
²³ Osborne and Alcock 2007, 3.
²⁴ During the nineteenth century German scholars actually reformed classical studies: former amateur classes for the clergy and aristocrats became professional studies, set in university structures
— Altertumswissensa. At the time the leading role of the German researchers in the field of
classical studies, including archaeology, was unquestionable — cf. Whitley 2001, 32–36.
²⁵ Andrzejewski 1989, 113–114.
²⁶ Andrzejewski 1989, 241.
     
55
long time a basis for the education of the elite and an integral part of social life in
many other countries, and even became a part of political life in this era, which
certainly ennobled and privileged classical studies. Development of interest in
classical archaeology (and generally in classical culture) in Europe in the nineteenth century, still vivid in the first decades of the twentieth century, went hand
in hand with the growing political and national identity. is is especially true in
case of Greece, which freed itself from the Ooman rule, to completely turn to
the age of Pericles.²⁷ Another example is Italy, although it made use of its classical past in an exceptionally extreme way in the 1920s and 1930s of the twentieth
century, when the Roman history, especially during the reign of Augustus, raised
to the rank of the ideal, became central to the construction of political ideology
at the time of Mussolini.²⁸
However, the problem of using the classical past did not refer only to countries, which territories were occupied by ancient Greek and Romans. e development of classical archaeology in the nineteenth century was also motivated by
the cultural rivalry between the major forces in Europe and the United States.
erefore in this century classical education was still the essential element of the
education of a ruling elite in general. is international competition stood also to
some extent behind the significant development of museum collections, making
private collections public and popularising them as well as behind the sponsorship of major excavations. For example, Olympia quickly became a symbol of
German interests, Delphi of the French and Knossos of the British interests.²⁹
We can repeat aer Ian Morris that during that period prehistoric archaeology, also remaining in some way “in the services” of different nation states,
offered the societies the knowledge of what lies at the heart of being a Dane,
a German or a Frenchman, but classical archaeology communicated to them all
what it meant to be human, in fact a human who embodies the best qualities.³⁰
Classical antiquity remained an exemplary era in the history of Europe for a
long time, although this statement certainly simplifies, for the purposes of this
review, a much more complex picture of the perception and use of the past in
general as well as of acquiring knowledge about it. At least since the Enlightenment we witness a slow affirmation of distinct epochs and ethnic characters. In
certain cases it gradually led to challenging a universally acknowledged force of
the ancient paern and directed the interest to other achievements, for example, to the art of the Middle Ages. ese processes have considerably deepened
²⁷ Whitley 2001, 30; further discussed problem of relations of Greece, also today’s, with its past,
can be found in deep and nuanced book of Yannis Hamilakis (2007).
²⁸ Zanker 1999, 5.
²⁹ Mille 2007, 34–35.
³⁰ Morris 2004, 261.
56
 
with time.³¹ Coming back to general propositions aempting to succinctly recognise the trends behind the development of archaeology, we may pinpoint Bruce
Trigger’s proposal that defines different traditions of archaeological research in
the world as on the one hand, “nationalist” (first of all prehistories of particular states, constructing their national identity, which has been the case, e.g. in
Europe since the Napoleonic period), then the “colonial” (research developed by
selers in areas where local communities were almost completely replaced by
immigrants, mainly Europeans), and finally the “imperial” (research on a world
scale, conducted by a small number of countries, such as the UK, which ruled
huge areas of our planet).³² To this classification I. Morris adds classical archaeology, describing it as “continentalist”, thus archaeology providing foundations
for the cultural identity of entire Europe and displaying its ancient Greco-Roman
roots.³³
Aer World War II, classical studies, including classical archaeology, lost its
unique position and it happened differently in Europe and the United States. is
process is very complex, conditioned by a number of social, political and economic factors. Undoubtedly, one of the principal factor is a kind of social revolution
that has happened in many countries. Moreover, the post-war reconstruction and
the development of investments in many areas of Europe, caused an increase in
local excavations, especially rescue excavations. Emphasis was placed on the development of widely understood education, oen providing students with practical skills, and addressed to groups of young people from different backgrounds.
In a sense, classical studies have become democratic.³⁴
Classical archaeology certainly began to increasingly move away from the
former knowledge of the artefacts, concentrated solely on the works of art often viewed as an autonomous world, excluded from the context of its production, functioning and perception. It also started to retreat from the fascination
with the philological data. Yielding to serious transformations, which occurred
in the last decades of the twentieth century, classical archaeology began also to
significantly expand the scope of its interests and verify the hitherto adopted
research approaches, which led to its today’s diversity and change of character.
Hence, contemporary classical archaeology is a rapidly evolving science, which
re-formulates its research fields and opens up to cooperation with many other
disciplines. It means that it undertakes a wide range of issues, inter alia, studies
on the ecology of the ancient world, on the space and landscape, the processes of
urbanisation and state-formation, studies on the household and its resources, on
the worship and ritual, creation and expression of identity, perception of self and
³¹
³²
³³
³⁴
Pomian 1996, 145–146.
Trigger 1984, 355–370.
Morris 1994, 11; 2004, 259.
Mille 2007, 38–39.
     
57
the other, etc.³⁵ It is worth noting here that among disciplines studying the past,
archaeology still remains to some extent unique, owing to its ongoing opportunity of discovering new sources and data in the course of field work (including
the growing number of non-invasive surveys), as well as due to the contact with
artefacts. Nowadays, the possibility of application of new technologies in the
research opens up very promising prospects.³⁶
I believe that archaeology, as well as other disciplines, aempts to preserve
a character of a sovereign discipline with a precise ​research field. It is directed
towards specific phenomena of the past cultural and social life, examined primarily through available material remains. However, by opening up more and
more for collaboration with other disciplines, it also gets rid of its limitations and
total dependence on one controlling humanistic discipline, which is important
for classical archaeology regarding its strong connections with classical philology and art history. Nevertheless, I would say that this should not mean distancing itself and giving up this huge and great tradition — on the contrary, it
should be rethought and included again in today’s research. e authority of science lies in its achievements, jointly produced by scholars, namely the tradition,
which is also subject to continuous development and change. e authority of a
well-understood tradition does not stand in opposition to the freedom of undertaking new research. In case of archaeology, as one of the disciplines studying the
past, we must realise that all questions about the past are asked from the position
of the present, therefore, these are questions not only about the past itself, but
also about contemporary people, thinking about the past from a particular cultural perspective. e way of thinking about the past is thus in this case a form of
communicating the researchers’ own choices of values and thus an informed and
open to others form of participating in a culture in which they are positioned.³⁷
Let me reiterate the opinion stated already at the beginning of this text that our
era, like the previous ones, creates its own model of antiquity and makes its own
interpretations of its numerous achievements.
To end up, I would like to mention again the question of the “living presence”
of antiquity in our culture, or to put it in different way, an idea anchored exceptionally deeply in the history of Europe, perceiving antiquity as the foundation of
European civilisation, as repeated recently by Leszek Mrozewicz: “It is a widely
recognised truth that the civilisation of Europe is based on three major pillars:
Greek thought and art, the achievements of the Romans in the field of law and
the organisation of state, and Christianity, originating from the Judaism and the
³⁵ Cf. interpretations of the above issues in the already cited in this paper synthetic monographs
about classical archaeology wrien in the circle of the German (Borbein, Hölscher, Zanker eds.
2000) and Anglo-Saxon (Alcock and Osborne [eds.] 2007) traditions.
³⁶ Mille 2007, 46–47.
³⁷ Mamzer 2004, cf. especially chapter 3 of the book, p. 174 and final remarks, pp. 235–239.
58
 
Greco-Roman culture, which provided Europe with religion and morals”.³⁸ is
still widespread belief concerning the antiquity, which can be supported by a
myriad of examples and data, is interesting today mainly in connection with the
reflection on the role of antiquity in contemporary world and the need to learn
about it. Concluding the above-cited speech on this subject, inaugurating the academic year 2008–2009 at Adam Mickiewicz University in Poznań, L. Mrozewicz
states that “e inspirational power of antiquity, experienced in a particular way
in every epoch, have been igniting the minds of generations that in this period,
its culture and history, have been looking for motivation to act and process the
reality around us”.³⁹ We should hope that classical archaeology will show such an
inspiring role of antiquity also in our times, as it functions with full knowledge
that preserved texts, ideas, representations, as well as material culture of ancient
Greece and Rome, for a very long time remained key for the Western world in
the process of adaptation of the past in order to authenticate the present. Modern scholars, however, must take into consideration both the recognized use and
abuse of the past. Hence, today’s classical archaeology significantly broadens its
field of research trying to describe the “social life”, the roles and importance of
ancient material culture in the contemporary socio-cultural context. In so doing,
it takes into account the reflections on the concept of the social agency of things,
the strength of their impact, not only knowledge of them, recorded in the social
memory. It also considers the influence of ancient artefacts on the senses of the
recipient, with all their properties, such as visibility and tangibility, which gives
them the ability of ongoing production and materialisation of time and place, of
embodying the past.⁴⁰
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Snodgrass A.M., 1985, e New Archaeology and the Classical Archaeologist, American Journal of
Araeology 89, 31–37.
Snodgrass A.M., 1987, An Araeology of Greece: e Present State and Future Scope of a Discipline,
Berkeley.
Snodgrass A.M., 2007, What is Classical Archaeology? Greek Archaeology, in Classical Araeology,
edited by S.E. Alcock and R. Osborne, Oxford, 13–29.
Trigger B.G., 1984, Alternative Archaeologies: Nationalist, Colonialist, Imperialist, Man. e Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute 19, 355–370.
Whitley J., 1987, Art, Art History, Archaeology and Idealism: e German Tradition, in Araeology
as Long-Term History, edited by I. Hodder Cambridge – New York, 9–15.
Whitley J., 1993, e Explanation of Form: Towards a Reconciliation of Archaeological and Art
Historical Approaches, Hephaistos 11/12, 7–33.
Whitley J., 2001, e Araeology of Ancient Greece, Cambridge.
Zanker P., 1999, August i potęga obrazów, Poznań.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
ADAM NARUSZEWICZ AND JOACHIM LELEWEL
SCHOLARS OF ANCIENT HISTORY ON THE EXAMPLE
OF THE EXTENT OF GERMANIA
M C
T
he ancient Germania and its territorial extent, particularly to the East, was
usually located between Elbe and Vistula in the ancient sources.¹ e lack
of clearly delineated boundary had a substantial impact on many Polish
researchers, who, in contradiction to the former, considered the lands between
the Oder and the Vistula as immemorially Slavic. Naturally, one admied the
possibility that Germanic tribes resided temporarily on the present Polish territory, yet to a limited extent, chiefly in the shape of troops² or individual tribes
on their way southwards, towards the frontiers of the Roman Empire.
Adam Naruszewicz was the first Polish historian to embark on a study of the
Polish territories in a scientific fashion. He is considered the creator, or at the
very least a pioneer of the science of history in Poland,³ in the present-day sense
of the word, while his scholarly approach paved the way for a vast number of
continuators.⁴ For the sake of studies of that part of the then Barbaricum, the
bishop coadjutor utilized the works of P. Cornelius Tacitus,⁵ translated by himself
on the initiative of king Stanisław II August⁶ and printed (1771–1783), among
which there was “Germania”,⁷ which bore particular significance with regard to
the lands of Poland. e ethnographic piece about the origin and seats of the
Germans (De origine et situ Germanorum) was additionally provided by him with
a detailed commentary.⁸
¹ Caes., BG, 6.25; Strab., 7.21; Plin., NH, 4.99; Tac., Germ., 1; 38; 46; Ptol., Geogr., 2.11; cf. SSS, II,
96–97 (s.v. Germania); RGA, IX, 181–259 (s.v. Germanen, Germania, Germanisen Altertumskunde).
² Vide Antoniewicz 1928; Kostrzewski 1919–1921, 6; 1951, 100–112; Rudnicki 1951, 164–181;
Tymieniecki 1960, 36 with n. 73.
³ Serczyk 1994, 226.
⁴ Historycy 1986, 5.
⁵ Naruszewicz 1783.
⁶ Grabski 1986, 13.
⁷ Naruszewicz 1861.
⁸ Kolendo 2008, 55–57; 2008a, 105–199.
61
62
 
Apart from the translation of the Roman historian’s work, A. Naruszewicz
earned a permanent place in the annals of Polish historiography having wrien
Historya narodu polskiego [A History of the Polish Nation].⁹ e first volume is the
most important one in our deliberations, as it is devoted to the earliest history,
reaching as far back as the Roman times. According to the bishop of Smolensk’s
concept, it was to serve merely as an introduction to the aforementioned “History
of the Nation” proper, which was dedicated to an account of events in the times
of the kingdom of Poland.
Characteristically, the work on that first, introductory volume, presented
Naruszewicz with the greatest difficulty. e basic cause of the emerging problems was the singularly troublesome shortage of source concerning the prehistoric times.¹⁰ Consequently, faced with the existing difficulties, the bishop of
Smolensk eventually abandoned the idea to publish the work.¹¹ Conceivably, the
refusal of the Russian authorities which prohibited the printing proved another
reason why such decision was taken. is was to result from accusations cast
at Naruszewicz, denouncing his alleged Slavophilic inclinations,¹² which related
Polish past with the common Slavic environment.¹³
Notwithstanding the aforementioned difficulties which accompanied the creation of the volume I of Historya, the bishop of Smolensk saw its development as
indispensable for the further history of Poland. He mentioned the fact in a letter addressed to king Stanisław II August of 1ᵗʰ June 1778, in which he wrote
that before he started to write national history, he had to prepare an appropriate
introduction, so as to acquaint the reader with the outline of Poland, and the peoples which lived here before Poles appeared. e historian wanted to investigate
whence Poles came, what where their earlier abodes, and how they achieved their
power. According to the bishop, the antique facts were precisely the condition
for reliable information on later history.¹⁴
Meanwhile, successive new complications associated with its completion and
resulting delays only made king Stanisław grow impatient. He expressed it in his
correspondence with the bishop-poet, asking that he did not remain too long in
that too extensive an introduction of his, as otherwise they would not have lived
to see the main part of the work¹⁵ that the history of Poland was to be.
⁹ Naruszewicz 1836.
¹⁰ Gołębiowski 1825; Bartoszewicz 1853, 52–54; 1860, 52–53 and 58; Bartkiewicz 1979, 63–64 and
246; Zarzycki 1999, 63–64.
¹¹ Zarzycki 1999, 63; Grabski 1976, 162.
¹² Grabski 1986, 20; Rzepa 1972, 4–5 and 18.
¹³ Rzepa 1972, 18.
¹⁴ Pla 1959, 110–111.
¹⁵ Bartoszewicz 1853, 52.
    
63
Even before embarking on such a arduous and weighty task as writing down
the nation’s history, the historian presented the philosophy of its writing in his
Memorial on the Writing of National History. Aer his death, it was decided that
the Memorial be placed at the beginning of the work, in the first volume, as apposite to the subject.¹⁶ It contains guidelines listing practical hints and tasks awaiting him in the future. According to Naruszewicz, it was necessary to conduct
a thorough preliminary research in numerous archives and private libraries, then
develop a coherent outline based on collected and critically selected material, and
conduct exposition, yet in a manner which would not discourage the reader, but
make reading Historya a pleasure.¹⁷
As may be seen from the quoted description, the guidelines presented still hold
true, although they are not always consistently adhered to by a modern historian.
Due to the specificity of the sources, the Polish historian was wary with regard
to the early history of Poland. He remained particularly cautious in places which
fostered speculation,¹⁸ but he did not reject a limine the legendary traditions or
tales, admiing the possibility that they might contain some particle of truth. He
was of the opinion that a historian’s task was only to extract it, having verified the
collected tales and legends beforehand, which is why, in the quoted Memorial, he
placed particular emphasis on sensible criticism, without which it is impossible to
distinguish between falsehood and truth. Furthermore, based on common sense,
he advised to consider the causes of human action in each instance, and to look
for the motives as well as evaluate the aermath of such actions, since otherwise
writing history will be more akin to invented romances.¹⁹
e assumed premises and the scientific ambitions of the bishop became, paradoxically, the cause of the aforementioned problems related to the reconstruction
of the earliest history, which he repeatedly revised and which finally was not
published during his lifetime,²⁰ leaving aside the potential political factors and
alleged or actual intervention from the Russian authorities.²¹
From the present-day perspective, with regard to the territories of Poland in
the first centuries AD, it has to be stated that the bishop of Smolensk, while
drawing solely on wrien sources, in a general outline drew a picture which
tallies with the current state of knowledge.²² At the time, archaeology — so helpful in the work of a present-day historian — did not exist as fully fledged and
¹⁶ Naruszewicz 1836, I, 17–32.
¹⁷ Naruszewicz 1836, I, 20–21; cf. Kościałkowski 1937, 16–17.
¹⁸ Bartoszewicz 1853, 70; 1860, 52–53.
¹⁹ Naruszewicz 1836, I, 27.
²⁰ Remarked upon by Gołębiowski 1825, 246; similarly Lelewel 1827, 174; Bartoszewicz 1860, 52–53
and 58; see also Grabski 1976, 162; Rabowicz 1969, 374–375.
²¹ As in n. 12.
²² Cf. Krawczuk 2002, 141.
64
 
autonomous science, therefore he relied only on the writings of antique authors
and the guidelines formulated in the Memorial.
Resorting to wrien sources meant that his presentation of the boundaries
of ancient Germania reflected the accounts of the ancient writers. In any case,
the poet historian entertained the view that Slavs came to the later Poland from
Asia and took it in possession relatively late, only aer the prior departure of the
Vandals.²³ us, he firmly negated any continuity of selement and kinship of
the peoples which previously inhabited these lands with the later Poles.²⁴
He treated Vistula as a hydrographic object separating Germania from Sarmatia in the sense accorded it by the ancients, even though this was a simplification
and a certain formula, which facilitated orientation in lands very distant from
the Roman Empire, and hence beyond the range of any closer observation on
the Roman part. Germanic tribes occupied areas which coincide in part with the
current Polish territory. e historian located their abodes in lands to the Oder
river, but saw them reach as far as Vistula.²⁵
e second scholar, almost a contemporary of Naruszewicz, who also played
a paramount role in domestic historiography and had a tremendous influence on
the posterity was Joachim Lelewel. He was one of the greatest Polish historians
at the turn of the 18ᵗʰ and 19ᵗʰ century.²⁶ e age in which he lived and worked
was short of a scholar who could have competed with him in terms of scientific
achievements and the breadth of research interests. As a scholar-researcher, he
was characterized by an exceptional, continent-wide scope of interests, practised
at a European standard. He was a kind of researcher who might have played an
even greater role in the domains of science, had he had the possibility of working
without constraints in more favourable circumstances, above all, in an independent country.²⁷
Lelewel was an analyst and synthetist, studying historical periods starting
with the ancient times, through the Middle Ages to the modern era. He was no
stranger to cartography,²⁸ geography,²⁹ numismatics,³⁰ bibliography and bibliology.³¹ For example, his Badania starożytności [e Study of Antiquity],³² was
the first publication in world literature which offered a complete analysis of the
knowledge of the ancient world according to the authors of geographical trea²³
²⁴
²⁵
²⁶
²⁷
²⁸
²⁹
³⁰
³¹
³²
Naruszewicz 1836, I, 150; see also III, 29–31; VI, 81–85, n. 1; 1861, 16, n. 1 and 14.
Naruszewicz 1836, I, 151; cf. 1861, 76 (n. 4); 77, n. 1.
Naruszewicz 1836, I, 34–37.
Zakrzewski 1926–1927, 258–259; cf. Grabski 2000, 114–115.
Zakrzewski 1926–1927, 259.
Lelewel 1828; cf. Alexandrowicz 1988, 119–132.
Lelewel 1818a; cf. Warnka 1878.
Kętrzyński 1937–1938, 320.
Więckowska 1980, 11.
Lelewel 1818a.
    
65
tises of the day.³³ is work won him European fame.³⁴ Compiling these facts
enabled him to eliminate many mistakes and inaccuracies.³⁵ Moreover, Lelewel
was involved in pedagogic and educational activities. He was an author of school
textbooks and a professor of history and bibliography at the universities in Vilnius and Warsaw.³⁶ At present, the extent of his interests and the magnitude of
scholarly work accomplished verges on unimaginable.³⁷ It is all the harder in the
world today, which is inclined towards narrow specialization and in which the
scope of scientific interest is ever more limited. Lelewel’s scholarly achievement
can only be compared to his contemporaries, the giants of European science, such
as Leopold von Ranke and Jules Michelet.³⁸
e Brussels Recluse was characterized by almost phenomenal knowledge of
antique sources, chiefly Greek and Roman, with which he made acquaintance
already in his student days, as well as Jewish and the latest accounts in that field in
European literature.³⁹ Having such a good grounding, he would always reach for
these works,⁴⁰ because he did not wish, as he wrote, to place his trust in “someone
else’s eye”. Since childhood, he cherished a profound conviction that without
“siing the fat down” nothing would be achieved in science.⁴¹ He believed in the
still valid (though not always observed) principle that it is a historian’s absolute
duty to have the knowledge of sources, in which truth should be sought, and to
analyse all circumstances associated with the studied events. Ignorance of the
sources causes the researcher not to expound the truth, but merely to duplicate
the views of others, thus distorting the age they describe to resemble their own
times, and hence becoming, as he put it, an “infidel”. Only sources, in other words
recorded human thought from a given period, obviously approached critically,
would allow a historian to achieve an optimal standard of research work and
reliable results.⁴²
A listing of Lelewel’s works testifies to his laborious diligence and the importance he aached to ancient history.⁴³ Meanwhile, the period of his studies
coincided with the times when Poland enjoyed but a short spell of research into
antiquity at a European standard.
³³ Alexandrowicz 1988, 126.
³⁴ Kętrzyński 1937–1938, 320.
³⁵ Alexandrowicz 1988, 126; Kętrzyński 1937–1938, 320.
³⁶ Więckowska 1980, 11.
³⁷ On the legacy of J. Lelewel’s writings see Hleb-Koszańska and Kotwicz, 1952 (the listing does
not entail some of the handwrien studies); Serejski 1953, 14.
³⁸ Serejski 1953, 13; cf. Handelsman 1937–1938, 334.
³⁹ Serejski 1958, 263.
⁴⁰ Serejski 1953, 13.
⁴¹ Serejski 1953, 13; cf. Mrozewicz 1996, 72–73.
⁴² Lelewel 1963, 105–106.
⁴³ Lelewel 1818; 1850; 1959; 1972.
66
 
Taking into consideration his interest in antiquity, one would be hard put to
find a 19ᵗʰ century Polish scholar, who could have rivaled with him in the field.
In his numerous investigations, Lelewel was able to become engaged in other
topics than his fellow Polish historians who focused chiefly on the history of
their mother country.⁴⁴ His work, apart from the history of Poland, also covered
general history, both the earliest, using archeology, as well as the most recent.⁴⁵
With regard to ancient times, Lelewel contained the picture and his own vision
of antiquity in Dzieje starożytne [Ancient History]⁴⁶ and Dzieje Indii [A History of
India].⁴⁷ e works demonstrate his thorough knowledge of the subject, a wealth
of thought, and a broad view of the social and cultural development of the ancient
world.⁴⁸
ere can be no doubt that he was the first, and probably the only 19ᵗʰ century
domestic historian, who thought through and clearly formulated a new definition
of general history.⁴⁹ Having the choice of two methods in discussing history:
ethnographic and synchronistic, he advocated the laer. According to Lelewel,
a simultaneous presentation of history prevented isolating the histories of individual nations from the whole. Although the synchronous approach, unlike the
ethnographic method, did not offer an uninterrupted picture of a nation’s history,
yet in educational terms, it greatly helped the student to extract the history of
individual nations or states.⁵⁰
Ancient history as a separate scientific domain is a relatively young discipline.
In the 18ᵗʰ century, it began to detach itself from philological sciences, and in the
next it went into a stage of rapid development, although in the case of Poland
the course of the progress in the studies of antiquity was slightly different. e
then Polish historiography, so susceptible to changes occurring in the life of the
nation, developed practically under their influence, which in turn determined
the shape of its interest and created a certain lag with respect to the Western
European countries. In particular, this applied to synthetic thought and native
ethnogenesis. As a result, one would reach as far back as possible, frequently
disregarding the import of antique sources, or else adapting them to individual needs, as long as it allowed one to “find” progeny and thus demonstrate the
“antiquity” of the ancestors of Polish tribes. e phenomenon was addressed by
Henryk Schmi, who remarked that the accounts of Pliny, Tacitus and Ptolemy
feature much information on today’s territories of Poland, but they are so obscure
⁴⁴
⁴⁵
⁴⁶
⁴⁷
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
⁵⁰
Labuda 1974, 179.
Serejski 1953, 13.
Work discussed in: Mrozewicz 1996, 67–73.
Serejski 1953, 110.
Serejski 1953, 110.
Serejski 1958, 227.
Serejski 1958, 241.
    
67
that even a minor change in the meaning of certain words renders them suitable
in proving anything one would wish to prove.⁵¹
Meanwhile, already in his youth the later Brussels Recluse was fascinated with
the north of Europe and the Germans, as well as their influence on institutions
and legal arrangements of other European states.⁵² His interests were manifested
in the first, youthful writings devoted to the subject.⁵³ e work had the favor
of the universally held conviction which envisaged the North as the cradle of
humanity.
Historians in the country, oen of German descent, accentuated the overwhelming impact of the Germans and “northern peoples” on the history of European culture, although the phenomenon applied rather to late antiquity and
early Middle Ages, construed usually from the perspective of German and Slavic
neighbourhood. With time, there occurred a reversal towards Slavic and national
traditions,⁵⁴ which ensued from the gradual emergence of resistance against the
teutomania which began to grow ever more intense since the second half of the
19ᵗʰ century.⁵⁵
Lelewel, based on the analysis of data concerning the extent of the ancient
Germania and its Vistula frontier,⁵⁶ treated it as a river beyond which there
dwelled not the Germans but Sarmatians, and thus, the best known river to the
Romans in this part of Europe became the extreme limit of the grand Germania,
dividing it from Sarmatia.⁵⁷ Here, he constrained himself to quoting ancient writers, which was directly reflected in the graphical representation of Germania, in
a publication of his intended as a school aid⁵⁸: an atlas of ancient history and
geography.⁵⁹
In contradiction to the fact that Vistula marked the edge of Germania on a featured map of the Roman Empire during the reign of the Antonines in 161 AD, our
polyhistor went only as far as indicating its outline on three sides, leaving the issue of the eastern boundary open, and disregarding the apparently unambiguous
account of Ptolemy.⁶⁰
e absence of a clearly delineated eastern end of the ancient Germania might
have been dictated by the awareness of being in the east of Europe, outside the
⁵¹ Schmi 1855, 71; cf. n. 1.
⁵² Bronowski 1968, 119; cf. also Zawadzki 1952, 179; Serejski 1958, 209.
⁵³ Not all of these works were published, e.g. Lelewel 1806; (n.d.) and published: 1808 (= 1972,
355–371); 1814; 1828a.
⁵⁴ Bronowski 1968, 69–70.
⁵⁵ Bronowski 1968, 82; cf. Żak 1974, 32, 38–39; 1981, 3–30; Wiwjorra 2006.
⁵⁶ Lelewel 1818a.
⁵⁷ Lelewel 1818a, 121; cf. also 349.
⁵⁸ Zawadzki 1952, 194.
⁵⁹ Lelewel 1828; see discussion of cartographic works of J. Lelewel: Warnka 1878; Alexandrowicz
1988, 119–132.
⁶⁰ Ptol., Geogr., 2.11.
68
 
boundary line of Germanic tribes supplied by the Alexandrian geographer. Consequently, tracing a definite line would not have made any greater sense, as it
would not have reflected the state of the ethnic relationships existing at the time.
Based on such criterion, Germania would have had to reach far eastwards into
the continent. Whereas sources mentioned Vistula, which in this case would have
constituted an definite limitation. is is evinced in one of his earliest works, devoted to general history of the world, from the deluge to the birth of Christ.⁶¹ In
the concluding remarks, the historian enumerated the “generations of nations”, as
he put it. In the third generation of Scythians, among whom he then still counted
the Germans and Scandinavians, he located their abodes between the Rhine, the
Danube and the Dnieper, up to the North Pole, and so far to the east and to the
north of Europe.⁶² In this light it seems perfectly conceivable why he decided not
to “close o” the ancient Germania on the east.
is interpretation appears to be borne out by an analogous situation described elsewhere.⁶³ e historian drew aention to the fact that in his time
P. Cornelius Tacitus also had to contend with ethnic assignment of the nations of
the ancient Germania and in such judgement he was not compelled by Vistula,
but by the universal conjecture that the entire north comprised only Germans
or Sarmatians. erefore, in the conclusion, he summed it up with a succinct
statement that as once upon a time there were many other nations in Scythia,
so Germania and Sarmatia were inhabited by other peoples, not necessarily Germanic and Sarmatian exclusively.⁶⁴
He reasoned in the following manner. e frontiers reported by the antique
writers, which existed beyond the oikuméne of the Greco-Roman world, were established following the location of rivers and mountains, and hence by reference
to orientation points, which, marked on geographic maps by Marinus of Tyr and
Ptolemy, became a form for subsequent writers.⁶⁵ It was according to that form
that later authors wrote about nations living in the north.⁶⁶
Adopting such an assumptions seems a standard practice employed by the antique chroniclers and geographers in the initial descriptions of a newly explored
territory.⁶⁷ e indicated boundaries of lands were not the boundaries of nations,
in Lelewel’s anachronic formulation, especially with respect to the Teutonic peoples, which displayed such mobility. In view of that, it seemed incomprehensible
and pointless, he thought, to point at a river or other frontiers, which were al⁶¹
⁶²
⁶³
⁶⁴
⁶⁵
⁶⁶
⁶⁷
Lelewel 1806, 44.
Lelewel 1806, 44.
Lelewel 1972.
Lelewel 1972, 171–172; cf. 1842, 71–98.
Lelewel 1972, 576.
Lelewel 1972, 576, cf. similar remarks: Kolendo 1998a, 50.
Kolendo 1998a, 50; cf. Wells 2010, 52.
    
69
legedly to separate individual tribes, while the Rhine, the Oder and the Vistula
certainly did not serve that purpose.⁶⁸
In all likelihood, this conviction affected his perception of this geographic area
and caused him to abandon the aempts to pinpoint a specific and at the same
time an artificial line on any river, the Vistula in this case, established as far back
as Marcus Agrippa. It was thanks to him that the division into Germania and
Sarmatia became entrenched in the historiographic tradition.⁶⁹ Emergence of this
stereotype exercised an influence on later historical writing and persisted until
modern times.
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⁶⁸ Lelewel 1972, 337.
⁶⁹ Lelewel 1842, 85; cf. Kolendo 2007, 10.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
POLISH STUDIES OF IMPRESSED BUILDING
CERAMICS FROM NOVAE
AN ATTEMPT TO DETERMINE THE CHRONOLOGY
OF OCCURRENCE OF THE 1ST ITALIAN LEGION STAMPS
M D
T
he remnants of the ruins of Novae are to be found in northern Bulgaria,
ca. four kilometres east of the town of Svištov (Свищов).¹ ey are located on a high bank , in a place where the Danube reaches the southernmost limit of its course.² In the Antiquity, a convenient crossing existed here, and
Romans recognized its strategic assets.³ In order to secure the frontiers against
belligerent tribes from the north, a military camp was erected there in the middle of the 40s of the 1ˢᵗ century AD, where the 8ᵗʰ Augustan legion was initially
stationed,⁴ to be replaced by the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion in 70 AD.⁵ e laer garrisoned
in Novae until Late Antiquity,⁶ while from the times of Septimius Severus, when
the legionaries were given the ability to leave the fortresses and enter into legal
marriages, a gradual process began in which Novae transformed into a thriving
late Roman and early Byzantine civilian-military centre.⁷
e 1ˢᵗ Italian legion produced building ceramics, which they subsequently
utilized as construction material for many buildings within the camp. e manufacturing process took place in brickyards, where the employed legionaries would
use a stamp to mark the products they had turned out. An impress-inscription
with an abbreviated name of the legion would be le on the surface of bricks and
roof tiles. anks to that practice, the archaeologists investigating the remnants
of Novae since 1960, have a tool which gives the possibility of dating many buildings in the area of the antique locality, and thus enables one to study the history
¹
²
³
⁴
⁵
⁶
⁷
Majewski 1969, 57.
Dyczek 2007, 10.
Press and Sarnowski 1987, 289 and 294.
Dyczek 2008, 67.
Mrozewicz 2010, 278.
Sarnowski 1977, 50.
Mrozewicz 2010, 281–284.
73
74
 
of Novae, the military one in particular.⁸ It is no surprise then that already during
the first excavation seasons, tegular material aracted the aention of archaeologists,⁹ as well as architects, epigraphers and military historians later. e aim
of this paper is to aempt a summing up of the results of research conducted to
date on the chronology of artefacts of the kind, as well as to characterize briefly
the course and development of studies of stamped building ceramics so far.¹⁰ It
needs to be mentioned that research material originates largely from excavations
of Polish expeditions, including two organised by the University of Warsaw and
one by the Adam Mickiewicz University in Poznań.¹¹
Before the aempt at puing individual stamp paern into chronological order was undertaken, one had had to embark upon studies in tegular epigraphy,
a new field of research for Polish scholars. Jan Trynkowski made the first inventory of brick stamp types in three papers with identical titles: Stemplowane
cegły i daówki [Stamped Bri and Tiles].¹² In these, he included one hundred
nine stamp imprints, chiefly of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion, ordered in a catalogue with
find specifications originating from excavation. ese entail coordinates of the
artefact discovery according to the archaeological layout and data such as: dimensions (of the object and the stamp imprint), type of the artefact, content
of the inscription. Additionally, photographs and drawings of the stamps were
provided, which facilitates correct identification of an object. However, due to
the state of research at the time, it is difficult to find any information on the
chronology of individual stamp paerns in Trynkowski’s articles. e greatest
difficulty stemmed from the degree to which the excavation works, being in their
initial stage, had advanced.¹³ At the time, there was no possibility of performing a
proper stratigraphic analysis. What is more, bricks and tiles with the stamp of the
1ˢᵗ Italian legion were being discovered in late Roman civilian buildings, which
clearly pointed to their secondary use.¹⁴ Apart from that, the very inscriptions
impressed on bricks and tiles did not make the task any easier, as their content
⁸ e scientific value of tegular inscriptions is discussed by: Kolendo and Żelazowski 2003,
170–171.
⁹ Majewski 1969, 57; Press and Sarnowski 1987, 289.
¹⁰ Majewski 1969, 66.
¹¹ e above expedition teams published stamped bricks and tiles in two ways. Foremost, in the
regular archaeological reports appearing in the periodical Areologia, also published for a spell
by the Poznań scholars in a separate publication entitled: Novae — Sektor Zaodni. Wyniki badań
wykopaliskowy ekspedycji areologicznej Uniwersytetu im. Adama Miiewicza. e reports featured also in other periodicals, such as Balcanica Posnaniensia, Novensia, while of the foreign one
should mention Izvestija na Balgarskija Arheologičeskija Institut Araeologia Bulgarica and Arheologija. Stamped bricks and tiles were also a subject of separate studies appearing as separate papers.
¹² Trynkowski 1964; 1965; 1966.
¹³ Progress of archaeological excavations in Novae: Dyczek 2008 [2009], 31–70.
¹⁴ Sarnowski 1983, 19–20.
       
75
was largely limited to simple abbreviations of the full name of the legion, without
providing additional information which would have been helpful in determining
the period of their occurrence. Despite serious handicap, Trynkowski dated several cases, with two of them precisely located in time. is concerned building
material bearing stamps which read GIITALG and GIITALANT.¹⁵ e former was
deciphered by Trynkowski to mean [LE]G(io) I ITAL(ica) G(ordiana) and should
be dated for the times of Gordian III (238–244).¹⁶ However, the leer G at the
end of the inscription arouses some doubt; possibly, it is a parenthesis which
was to emulate tabula ansata,¹⁷ and then we lose the possibility of chronological
placement of these imprints. Such doubt is absent with regard to the second type
of stamp imprint reading: GIITALANT. As Trynkowski observed, the leers ANT
are in ligature, while the whole is interpreted as follows: [LE]G(io) I ITAL(ica)
ANT(oniniana).¹⁸ In his opinion, the appellation Antoniniana was used by the
1ˢᵗ Italian legion during the reign of Septimius Severus and Caracalla.¹⁹ Later research reassessed this dating to some extent.²⁰
Jan Trynkowski’s work was continued by Włodzimierz Pająkowski, who,
thanks to the initiative of Stefan Parnicki-Pudełko — consisting in establishing
a separate Adam Mickiewicz University expedition in Novae²¹ — took part in
archaeological works with designation from that institution. Włodzimierz Pająkowski participated in five excavation seasons, in 1970, 1972, 1974, 1976 and
1978. As a result, four papers were published, three with an identical title of Stemplowane cegły i daówki [Stamped Bris and Tiles]²² and one entitled Ceramika
budowlana z odciskiem stempla [Building Ceramics with a Stamp Imprint].²³ In
his research, Włodzimierz Pająkowski placed the main emphasis on the edition
of inscriptions impressed on building ceramics. He continued in the manner of
publishing artefacts initiated by his predecessor, consisting in cataloguing.
A similar scholarly approach, also in terms of epigraphy, was employed by
Leszek Mrozewicz, who, in his article entitled Odciski stempli na ceramice budowlanej z Novae [Stamp Imprints on Building Ceramics from Novae]²⁴ described
thirty eight items of stamped building ceramics. Seven of the ceramic plates he
discussed had been discovered in situ.²⁵ As later archaeological research demon¹⁵
¹⁶
¹⁷
¹⁸
¹⁹
²⁰
²¹
²²
²³
²⁴
²⁵
Trynkowski 1964, 257, Tab. IV.
Trynkowski 1964, 257, n. 14.
Sarnowski 1983, 55.
Trynkowski 1964, 257.
Trynkowski 1964, 257, n. 13.
Sarnowski 1983, 55.
Dyczek 2008 [2009], 39.
Pająkowski 1973; 1975; 1979.
Pająkowski 1981.
Mrozewicz 1984.
Mrozewicz 1984, 150, Tab. II.
76
 
strated, the floor in which they were found is dated for the period between the
reign of Caracalla and Gordian III.²⁶ e information carries a substantial value
for the estimation of the chronology of individual matrix paerns being utilised
by legionary brickyards.²⁷
A different view on the discussed issue was entertained by Stanisław Medeksza and Ryszard Massalski. e former, associated with the Poznań expedition,
presented it in two articles with identical titles: Ceramika budowlana [Building
Ceramics],²⁸ in which he did not examine the very imprints of stamps, but focused
his aention on building ceramics. Nor did he omit to discuss the method of its
production²⁹ and its use in the architecture of Novae.³⁰ Also, he characterised
the ornamental carving found on the surface of bricks and tiles analysing its
shape³¹ and the practical function its was supposed to perform.³² e laer of the
aforementioned, Ryszard Massalski, was associated with the Warsaw expeditions,
and wrote the text entitled: Daówki z najniższej warstwy wykopu sondażowego
we wnętrzu G budowli z portykami [Tiles from the Lowest Layer of Sounding Excavation inside the G Building with Porticos],³³ in which, on the basis of three
well-preserved specimens, he examined the manner of arranging tegula and imbrices tiles of the roof slopes in Novae.³⁴ He did not omit the run of the tegulae
production process, either.³⁵ He also paid aention to the stamps impressed on
the surface of the studied tiles, trying to determine the cause behind the variation
in size between them, as well as behind the small palaeographic differences.³⁶ He
concluded that the cause might be looked for in the material from which the
stamp matrices were made. Simultaneously, he demonstrated which particular
material was used to make them: wood, clay and metal.³⁷ It needs to be stressed
that the findings of both architects, despite the lack of chronological deliberations on the stamps, have a considerable significance in the reconstruction of
the organisation of labour in military brickyards. ey broaden our knowledge
concerning Roman architecture of the limes, of which bricks and tiles were an
important element.
²⁶ Biernacki 1988, 169, n. 38.
²⁷ Similar imprints to the ones published by L. Mrozewicz discussed by Matuszewska (2006, 47,
Taf. I), include types: IV–12/a and VI–6/b.
²⁸ Medeksza 1975; 1979.
²⁹ Medeksza 1975, 150.
³⁰ Medeksza 1975, 177, fig. 134; 1979, 48.
³¹ Medeksza 1975, 167–175.
³² Medeksza 1979, 50–52.
³³ Massalski 1977.
³⁴ Massalski 1977, 183–184.
³⁵ Massalski 1977, 184–185.
³⁶ Massalski 1977, 186–187.
³⁷ Massalski 1977, 186.
       
77
Aer twenty years from the commencement of archaeological excavations
in Novae, Tadeusz Sarnowski’s Die Ziegelstempel aus Novae I. Systemiatik und
Typologie³⁸ came out, which combined the previous findings of archaeological,
epigraphic and technological-architectural studies of stamped building ceramics.
e author succeeded in expanding the issue, also thanks to a thorough analysis
of documentation from archaeological excavations in 1960–1979 and 1981, taking
into consideration the collection of the Museum of History in Svistov and materials published by the Bulgarian expedition.³⁹ e paper consisted of six parts,
yet two of them play a very prominent role in our deliberations. e first, entitled Typologie der Ziegelstempel⁴⁰ contains a typology of brick and tegular stamps
discovered in Novae, devised on the basis of the content of tegular inscriptions.
In its development, Tadeusz Sarnowski was guided to a lesser extent by palaeographic criteria, as, in his opinion, it would have been difficult to systematize
such an abundant material on these grounds. Consequently, he specified thirty
six types, marked in a Roman numerical system.⁴¹ Further, the types were divided into variants numbered with Arabic numerals. For example, type VI is divided
into 174 variants, while in type I there is only one. Group VI (LEGIITAL) was additionally subdivided with respect to the form of framing. is typology became
a foundation for deliberations on chronologic estimations of the occurrence of
individual stamp types and variants. In the subsequent, and the last part of the
paper, entitled Datierung,⁴² Tadeusz Sarnowski aempted to date the separate
stamp types and variants he had distinguished. Unfortunately, only few may be
dated with some degree of precision without incurring the risk of a serious error.
is applies to stamps reading LEG I ITAL ANT,⁴³ dated for the times of Caracalla
(212–217) or Elagabal (218–222),⁴⁴ LEG I ITAL ALE (230–235)⁴⁵ and the imprint
with the consular date of Marulo cos.,⁴⁶ a unique one in Lower Moesia. e remaining stamps of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion are hard to define, mainly due to the fact
that building ceramics was oen put to secondary use.⁴⁷ Still, this did not hinder
Sarnowski from embarking on a first aempt at stamp periodization on such a
scale:
First half of the 2ⁿᵈ century: types I, II, IV 1, 3–5.
Fourth quarter of the 2ⁿᵈ century — first quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: VI 159–174.
³⁸
³⁹
⁴⁰
⁴¹
⁴²
⁴³
⁴⁴
⁴⁵
⁴⁶
⁴⁷
Sarnowski 1983, 17–61.
Sarnowski 1983, 17; Matuszewska 2006, 45.
Sarnowski 1983, 41–45.
Sarnowski 1983, 41.
Sarnowski 1983, 55–61.
Sarnowski 1983, 55.
Sarnowski 1983, 55.
Sarnowski 1983, 56.
Sarnowski 1983, 55.
Sarnowski 1983, 20.
78
 
First quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: types VI 107–118, VI, XII.
First quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century — Second quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: types V, VIII, IX.
ird quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century — Fourth quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: types VI 35, 65–67,
123, 124, XI, XIII.
310–340 types XV–XVIII.⁴⁸
Sarnowski reviewed his own chronology of stamp types XV–XVIII in the article:
Die legio I Italica und der untere Donauabsni in der Notitia Dignitatum⁴⁹ as
follows:
XVI, XVII: for 316–317 AD.
XV and XVIII: for 324–339 AD.⁵⁰
Another important paper among Sarnowski’s achievements is the work entitled: Stemple „okrętowe” legionu I Italskiego na cegła i daówka z Novae
[e “vessel” Stamps of the 1ˢ Italian Legion on the Bris and Tiles from Novae],⁵¹
wrien in collaboration with Jan Trynkowski. In the article, the authors analyse the characteristic group of stamp imprints in the shape of ships, denoted
in the typology as type VI 165–169. In their opinion such stamps were used in
the 2ⁿᵈ century, with the reservation that such dating is severely undermined by
the presence of building ceramics marked with the stamp LEG(ionis) I ITAL(icae)
ALE(xandrianae) from the years 230–235 in the rubble.⁵²
It needs to be emphasised that in many papers, tegular material plays a significant role in the scientific work of Tadeusz Sarnowski. It is a valuable source
of information on the basis of which he entered upon research on the reconstruction of the military past, not only of Novae, but also Roman provinces situated
on the lower Danube. His studies are crowned by the book entitled Wojsko rzymskie w Mezji Dolnej i na północnym wybrzeżu Morza Czarnego [Roman Army in
the Lower Moesia and on the Northern Coast of the Bla Sea],⁵³ which in detail
addresses the issue of Roman military deployment by making specific reference,
among other things, to stamped bricks and tiles.⁵⁴
e Poznań centre is represented by Andrzej B. Biernacki, author of a number of papers devoted to the discussed issue,⁵⁵ including six in which one may
find — apart from the “standard” specifications of artefacts — information on
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
⁵⁰
⁵¹
⁵²
⁵³
⁵⁴
⁵⁵
Sarnowski 1983, 61.
Sarnowski 1985, 107–127.
Sarnowski 1985, 117.
Sarnowski and Trynkowski 1990, 251–263.
Sarnowski and Trynkowski 1990, 253, Sarnowski 1983, 56.
Sarnowski 1988.
e list should also include: Sarnowski 1987; 1991.
Apart from the ones discussed here see also: Biernacki 1979; 2003.
       
79
the chronology of individual paerns of stamp imprints. In the first of these,
entitled Zespół odcisków stempli i napisów legionu I Italskiego na posadzce ceramicznej basenu w terma legionowy w Novae [Assemblage of Stamp Imprints and
Inscriptions of the 1ˢ Italian Legion on the Ceramic Floor of Legionary Baths in Novae],⁵⁶ the stamped building ceramics was systematized on the basis of typology
of Tadeusz Sarnowski, referred to earlier. anks to the fact that the examples
discussed in that article had been discovered in situ in a floor built in the period
between the reigns of Caracalla and Gordian III, Biernacki succeeded in dating
stamps of type VI 10, 60, 94–97, 148–149⁵⁷ for the period of the rule of Caracalla and Gordian III.⁵⁸ Subsequent papers include Odciski stempli na ceramice
budowlane [Stamp Imprints of Building Ceramics]⁵⁹ and further four with identical title Stamps on the building ceramics elements from Novae.⁶⁰ ey contain
numerous new chronological estimations of the stamped ceramics, although, in
the majority of cases, the dating overlaps with the proposals of Sarnowski’s. Nevertheless, in the papers, Andrzej B. Biernacki published three hundred seventy
five stamp imprints, of which he briefly characterised the noteworthy specimens
and provided the following dating:
First half of the 2ⁿᵈ century: VI 9,⁶¹ VI 97⁶²
First half of the 3ʳᵈ century, types: VI 35, 65–66⁶³
Fourth quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century — first quarter of the 4ᵗʰ century, types: VI 165–169?,
172–173?⁶⁴
In five papers of Biernacki’s, there was no shortage of new stamp imprints which
had no equivalent in Sarnowski’s typology. ey would be found later in Marta
Matuszewska, dated for the 1ˢᵗ half of the 2ⁿᵈ century; these are: IV 11a,⁶⁵ VI 80b.⁶⁶
More or less at the same time, Piotr Dyczek directed archaeological works in
Novae in sector IV, with the ruins of military infirmary built at the beginning
of the 2ⁿᵈ century, while underneath there were remains of baths which functioned during the reign of the Flavian dynasty.⁶⁷ e obtained findings were sys⁵⁶ Biernacki 1988b, 169–172.
⁵⁷ Biernacki 1988b, 169.
⁵⁸ Biernacki 1988b, 170.
⁵⁹ Biernacki 1988a, 161–168.
⁶⁰ Biernacki 1992, 107–112; 1994, 45–49; 1995, 56–61; 1996, 76–80.
⁶¹ Biernacki 1995, 56–57, Fig. 2.5, 2.11.
⁶² Biernacki 1995, 56–57, Fig. 2.12–14.
⁶³ Biernacki 1992, 107.
⁶⁴ Biernacki 1994, 45.
⁶⁵ Biernacki 1996, 76, Fig. 7.3; Matuszewska 2006, 47, Taf. I.
⁶⁶ Biernacki 1992, 111, Pl. II.12–14. e type was presented by Matuszewska 2006, 56, Taf. VIII. e
stamo imprint displays substantial palaeographic similarity to types VI–66 and 121 in the typology
of Sarnowski’s 1983, 36, Taf. III; 37, Taf. V.
⁶⁷ Dyczek 2001, 18–22.
80
 
Fig. 1: Brick stamps of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion (by Sarnowski 1983, 34–38).
       
81
Fig. 2: Brick stamps of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion (by Sarnowski 1983, 34–38).
tematically published in many reports from archaeological excavations. In these,
stamped bricks and roof tiles were not overlooked. is resulted in amendments
and supplements to the chronology of stamp imprints suggested by Sarnowski:
e Flavian times (70–96 AD), types: IV 3, VI 28, 48, 65.⁶⁸
First half of the 2ⁿᵈ century, types: IV 6, VI 35, 114, 165, 168.⁶⁹
Early 3ʳᵈ century, types: VI 46, 59, 67, 108.⁷⁰
A great diversity of new stamps was revealed to researchers in 1995–2001
in the material published by the AMU archaeological expedition. A portion of
these stamps does not feature in Sarnowski’s typology. is induced Marta Matuszewska to supplement the typology in the article Bemerkungen zur Typologie
der Ziegelstempel aus Novae (Moesia Inferior).⁷¹ At the same time, she made a
⁶⁸
⁶⁹
⁷⁰
⁷¹
Dyczek 1997, 44.
Dyczek 2000, 95.
Dyczek 2000, 95.
Matuszewska 2006, 45–63.
82
 
Fig. 3: Brick stamps of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion (by Matuszewska 2006, 45–63).
few adjustments in this systematics. Namely, she adopted Sarnowski’s typology, with the modification that she introduced not two- but three-tier division
system. Stamp imprints were classified into types, variants and subvariants, e.g.
type “IV–1/a/b, 2/a, 3/a, 4/a, 5/a, 6/a, 7/a–f, 8/a, 9/a, 10/a, 11/a, 12/a”.⁷² e author’s
intention was to create a transparent typology, which would enable one to follow
the development of stamp matrices. She dated only one imprint which presented
a new variant, i.e. type II–2/a, estimated for the 2ⁿᵈ half of the 2ⁿᵈ century.⁷³ Consequently, apart from certain corrections, it is still the typology of Sarnowski’s.
Below is the current state of our knowledge concerning the chronology of occurrence of individual types and variants of brick stamps of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion:
Following the typology by Tadeusz Sarnowski (Fig. 1–2):
e Flavian times (from 70 to 96 AD), types: IV 3, VI 28, 48, 651.⁷⁴
First half of the 2ⁿᵈ century, types: I, II, IV 1,⁷⁵ IV 6,⁷⁶ VI 9,⁷⁷ 35,⁷⁸ 114,⁷⁹ 165–169.⁸⁰
Fourth quarter of the 2ⁿᵈ century — first quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: VI 159–164,
172–174.⁸¹
Early 3ʳᵈ century, types: VI 46, 59, 67,⁸² 107–113, 115–118, XII.⁸³
First quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century — second quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: type V.⁸⁴ Caracalla
⁷² Matuszewska 2006, 45.
⁷³ Matuszewska 2006, 50.
⁷⁴ Dyczek 1997, 44.
⁷⁵ Sarnowski 1983, 61.
⁷⁶ Dyczek 2000, 95.
⁷⁷ Biernacki 1995, 56–57, Fig. 2.5, 2.11.
⁷⁸ Dyczek 2000, 95.
⁷⁹ Dyczek 200, 95.
⁸⁰ Dyczek 2000, 95; Palaeographic similarities between the “vessel” stamps may indicate the same
period of their occurrence: cf. Sarnowski and Trynkowski 1990, 253.
⁸¹ Sarnowski 1983, 61.
⁸² Dyczek 2000, 95.
⁸³ Sarnowski 1983, 61.
⁸⁴ Sarnowski 1983, 61.
       
83
(212) — Gordian III (244): VI 10, 60, 94–97, 148–149.⁸⁵
ird quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century — fourth quarter of the 3ʳᵈ century: types VI 123–124,
XI, XIII.⁸⁶
184 AD: type XIX.⁸⁷
212–222 AD: type VII.
222–235 AD: types VIII, IX.⁸⁸
316–317 AD: XVI, XVII.
324–339 AD: XV i XVIII.⁸⁹
From Marta Matuszewska’s typology(Fig. 2):
First half of the 2ⁿᵈ century, types: IV–11a,⁹⁰ VI–80b.⁹¹
Second half of the 2ⁿᵈcentury: II–2/a.⁹²
First half of the 3ʳᵈcentury, types: IV–12a and VI–6/b–c.⁹³
For almost fiy years, stamped building ceramics has been studied by specialists in various fields. However, many scientific problems are still in evidence. In
particular, this concerns chiefly the bricks and roof tiles stamped by the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion in the 1ˢᵗ–3ʳᵈ century. Not all variants from this stamp group may be
precisely located chronologically. e greatest difficulty in that respect arises
with the examples of type VI,⁹⁴ as they had been appearing in Novae for almost
three centuries. is hampers the study of the leer shape transformation and the
stamp form across several centuries. Our knowledge of the chronology is slightly
more extensive with regard to late Roman bricks of the 1ˢᵗ Italian legion. In the
case of this kind of artefacts the difficulty lies in deciphering the inscription on
the imprints. e excavations in Novae are still being conducted. is means that
the volume of stamped building ceramics will continue to grow. Perhaps new
finds will throw more light on the issue, and above all will permit one to answer
the question concerning the significance of ceramics produced by military brickyards in the economic life of Novae and the entire province. In all probability,
the typology of ceramic stamps will also be perfected.
⁸⁵ Biernacki 1988b, 169.
⁸⁶ Sarnowski 1983, 61.
⁸⁷ Sarnowski 1983, 55.
⁸⁸ Sarnowski 1983, 55–56.
⁸⁹ Sarnowski 1985, 117.
⁹⁰ Following Biernacki 1996, 76, Fig. 7.3; Matuszewska 2006, 47, Taf. I.
⁹¹ Biernacki 1992, 111, Pl. II.12–14.
⁹² Matuszewska 2006, 50.
⁹³ Following Mrozewicz 1984, 150, Tab. II.
⁹⁴ In both typologies, Sarnowski’s 1983 and Matuszewska’s 2006, it is a very extensive group of
stamp imprints.
84
 
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE NILE CRUISE OF CLEOPATRA AND CAESAR
AND THE CREATION OF THE FORUM JULIUM
D D
T
he colourful life of Julius Caesar and Cleopatra is a topic which has
aroused interest of many researchers throughout the centuries. Most
works, however, focused either on the figure of Julius Caesar or on the
Egyptian queen, overlooking the influence that the time they spent together
might have had on Caesar’s political plans taking final shape.
In my opinion, Caesar’s sojourn in Egypt turned out to be a landmark for him.
It is difficult to decide to what an extent it resulted from Pompey’s death, which
caused a diametrical change of Caesar’s political role, and to what a degree it was
the outcome of the relationship with Cleopatra. It seems that none of the factors should be disregarded. Pompeius Magnus was the greatest rival of Caesar’s.
Competing with him motivated Caesar to actions for the benefit of the society,
which would ensure him a sympathy of the masses greater than the one Pompey
enjoyed. Cleopatra was the last living heiress of the tradition of Alexander the
Great, a ruler of Hellenist Alexandria and Egypt of the pharaohs. Relationship
with her associated Caesar with the heritage of Alexander the Great.
For a long time, Caesar’s activities had been based on a rivalry with Pompey.
When comparing undertaken building initiatives, one may have the impression
that Caesar aempted to respond with his own building activity to the initiatives
of the adversary. In 55 BC Pompey promised to erect a theatre and a temple of
Venus Victrix on the Field of Mars.¹ Cassius Dio wrote that Caesar wanted to
found another theatre in 45 BC.² e earliest information on Forum Julium comes
from 54 BC, when, during a stay in Gaul, Caesar bought a square adjoining the
Forum Romanum. Already at that time it was used as its extension, due to the
¹ e temple of Venus Victrix was combined with a theatre. e steps to the temple were at the
same time the place for the audience. Literature offers hugely divergent dating of the complex:
Pierre Gros (1987, 323) dates dedication of the theatre to 55, while the the temple to 55 following
Aulus Aelius 10.17; Paul Zanker (1990, 20) dates the opening of the theatre to 57.
² Cass. Dio, 43.49: Being anxious to build a theatre, as Pompey had done, he laid the foundations,
but did not finish it; it was Augustus who later completed it and named it for his nephew, Marcus
Marcellus.
87
88
 
shortage of space on the Forum Romanum.³ e plot acquired by Caesar covered
an area of approximately 160 m by 75 m.⁴ In 54 BC, his plans might have been
entirely different from the ultimate effect or had not yet taken final shape.⁵ Most
probably, he wanted to found a temple that would match the Pompey’s temple in
honor of Venus Victrix.
In the leers of Cicero, we find information about a monumentum built by
Caesar. With other writings of Cicero taken into account monumentum might
have denoted a form of commemoration through an edifice, statute or tomb,
which was to remind of the founder memorial, oen in physical form.⁶ Cicero’s
leer of 54 BC does not mention forum, perhaps because the initial purpose of
the square might have been the extension of the forum proper, not a development of a new complex. e general public had knowledge of the details of the
undertaking, such as the price of the plot, the stages of construction works begun,
but not the ultimate function of the square.⁷ In 52 BC, the Curia Hositilia and the
Basilica Porcia burnt down.⁸ Faustus, son of Sulla, undertook to reconstruct the
Curia. Meanwhile, the Basilica was not rebuilt, and the area on which it stood
was integrated by Caesar into his project. It is likely that initially the proximity
of buildings which served the republican system was an asset and the square
might have been planned as an extension of the Forum Romanum. e political
situation did not have to be the sole reason why plans were modified, one should
also take into consideration the unpredictable events, such as the destruction of a
part of Forum Romanum. In the same year that Curia Hostilia and Basilica Porcia
burnt down, i.e. in 52 BC, the works on the Forum Julium began.⁹ Around 51 the
future appearance of the Basilica Julia was also determined, which was to be a
boundary building between the old and the new forum.¹⁰ In Cicero’s writings,
we will not find words of indignation at Caesar’s plans, but rather curiosity and
³ Cic., A., 4.16.8 Rome, at the turn of August and September 54 BC: Paulus in medio foro basilicam iam paene texerat isdem antiquis columnis. Illiam autem quam locavit facit magnificentissimam.
id quaeris? Nihil gratius illo monumento, nihil gloriosius. Itaque Caesaris amici, me dico et Oppium, dirumparis licet, 〈in〉 monumentum illud quod tu tollere laudibus solebas, ut forum lavaremus
sescenties sestertium; cum privatia non poterat transigi minore pecnia. Effeciemus rem glorisissimam;
Suet., Caes., 26: forum de manubiis incohauit, cuius area super sestertium milies constitit.
⁴ Anderson 1984, 45; Coarelli 1975, 104.
⁵ Anderson 1984, 10: “In 54 may have been no plan for a new forum, nor is there any mention
of a rebuilding of the Curia. But the Comitium is already seen to be inadequate for voting and
most assemblies, and the Saepta Julia is already projected as a solution to the problem”., p. 40;
Stefan Weinstock (1971, 80–81) is of the opinion that Caesar had to have a precise plan, because
the construction of the Basilica Iulia was under way, and that one was architecturally unified with
the planned complex.
⁶ Anderson 1984, 39.
⁷ Cic., A., 4.16.8.
⁸ Cass. Dio, 40.49.2–3.
⁹ Suet., Caes., 26: He began a forum with the proceeds of his spoils, the ground for whi cost more
than a hundred million sesterces.
¹⁰ Anderson 1984, 11.
      
89
Fig. 1: Aeneas with Anchises and Palladium on the Caesar’s denar. Venus on the
obverse. CRR, 1013; RRC, 458/1.
exchange of information. Shock came with the use to which Forum was put, e.g.
the presence of the statue of Cleopatra in the temple of Venus Genetrix. Caesar,
in contrast to Pompey and Sulla, saw to the functionality of the projects, adapting
them to the existing urban structure.¹¹ is seems to stem from the delight with
Alexandria.¹²
Forum Julium was the only one to preserve the traditional civil function of the
Forum Romanum,¹³ yet it overshadowed previous undertakings with grandeur
and expense. Erecting temples to divine patrons was a premise of the Roman
pietas. In the Roman tradition, it happened on numerous occasions that before a
bale a vow was made to build a temple to the gods if the bale had turned out
successful. e representatives of the aristocracy frequently became involved in
the building or reconstruction of temples or porticos. anks to bas-reliefs and
statues they glorified their lineage and merits of the ancestors.
Julius Caesar made a reference to pietas on denars minted in 48 BC.¹⁴ e
coins were a response to Cicero’s accusations that neither Caesar nor Pompey
were endowed with pietas.¹⁵ e obverse features the head of Venus, while the
reverse shows Aeneas holding Palladium in his right hand, and bearing father on
the le shoulder. Julus, the founder of gens Julia is not present on the coin. His
absence emphasizes that the purpose of the coin was not to manifest Caesar’s
descent, but to compare the pietas of Caesar’s to the pietas of Aeneas.
Pietas was the catchword of Cnaeus Pompeius during the bale of Munda in
45 BC.¹⁶ is happened because Cnaeus Pompeius urged his son, Lucius Sextus,
¹¹ Favro 1996, 75.
¹² Bradford 2001, 83.
¹³ Urlich 1999, 49.
¹⁴ Crawford dates it to 48 BC, similarly Syndeham (1013), to 47 BC.
¹⁵ Cic., Rep., 6.16: sed sic, Scipio, ut avus hic tuus, ut ego, qui te genui, iustitiam cole et pietatem, quae
cum magna in parentibus et propinquis, tum in patria maxima est.
¹⁶ App., BC, 2.104.
90
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Fig. 2: Denar of Sextus Pompeius with the representation of his father, Pompeius
Magnus, referring to pietas, approx. 40 BC. On the reverse Neptune and brothers
Anapias and Amphinomus with parents. CRR, 1344; RRC, 511/3a.
to assume the cognomen Pius.¹⁷ e appellation was to underline the family ties
between the sons of Pompey.¹⁸
Caesar’s catchword at the bale of Munda was Venus, which, should the bale
be successful, was to show who was in greater favour of the goddess — Caesar or
Pompey. Caesar’s dedication of the temple to goddess Venus was a reaction to the
earlier foundation of a temple in honour of Venus Victrix by Pompey.¹⁹ Caesar
began to emphasize his divine provenance — he organized games on the foundation of Rome, and a day later a circus competition in honor of his own person,
as if he had been the city’s founder.²⁰ Before the bale of Pharsalus (48 BC), he
promised to build, in the event of victory, a temple of Venus,²¹ without a specified
¹⁷ Cass. Dio, 48.5.4: Aer this had happened there was no longer any friendship between them, but
Lucius together with Fulvia aempted to get control of affairs, pretending to be doing this on behalf of
Antony, and would yield to Caesar on no point (in fact because of his devotion to his brother he took
the cognomen Pietas). On Sextus Pompeius and the meaning of pietas see. Powell 2002, 103–133,
Lowe, 2002 65–102.
¹⁸ Plin., NH, 7.178–179. Octavianus proposed to Sextus that he defects to his side, but the laer
refused. Pliny does not mention that it was pietas that was the reason for the decision.
¹⁹ Plut., Pomp., 68.
²⁰ Cass. Dio, 43.42.3: e Parila was honoured by permanent annual games in the Circus, yet not at
all because the city had been founded on that very day, but because the news of Caesar’s victory had
arrived the day before, toward evening.
²¹ App., BC, 2.68–69: He offered sacrifice at midnight and invoked Mars and his own ancestress, Venus
(for it was believed that from Aeneas and his son, Ilius, was descended the Julian race, with a slight
ange of name), and he vowed that he would build a temple in Rome as a thank-offering to her as the
Bringer of Victory if everything went well; 2.102: He erected the temple to Venus, his ancestress, as he
had vowed to do when he was about to begin the bale of Pharsalus, and he laid out ground around
the temple whi he intended to be a forum for the Roman people, not for buying and selling. (…) He
placed a beautiful image of Cleopatra by the side of the goddess, whi stands there to this day. He
caused an enumeration of the people to be made, and it is said that it was found to be only one half
of the number existing before this war. To su a degree had the rivalry of these two men reduced the
city.
      
91
appellation.²² is may testify to the fact that in 48, plans concerning the choice
of Caesar’s main tutelary deity had not been ready yet, and therefore neither
had the final design of the temple. In view of the fact that the dedication of the
temple took place in 46 BC, the development plan for the square purchased by
Caesar clearly evolved under the influence of fluctuating political realities and
Caesar’s own vision, in the years 54–44 BC. From 54 to 48 BC, there are no indications as to the more precise purpose of the plot. e highest building activity
was recorded in 48–44 BC, and the victorious bale of Pharsalus in 48 BC had the
decisive impact on the appearance of Forum Julium. Having defeated Pompey,
the position of Caesar in the state underwent a change.²³ e republican system
became an obstacle, and hence the proximity of the Senate presented a drawback,
not an advantage.²⁴ For these reasons, in 46 BC the chief function of the Forum
Julium became diverting the aention of the visitors from the republican Forum
Romanum.
Aer Pompey’s death, Caesar’s subsequent task was to appease the domestic
situation and consolidate his own standing in the state. e reasons for the prolonged stay in Egypt might be sought in deliberations, in the summing up, comparison and assessment of the achievements so far and of the accomplished plans.
One cannot fail to appreciate the role of Cleopatra at Caesar’s side at the time.
She was already the queen of Egypt and her aspirations might have equalled the
aspirations of Caesar’s. Apart from that, she was learned and could perform the
function of a trusted advisor and listener. Cleopatra’s pregnancy was the cause
why Caesar might have contemplated future in completely different categories.
anks to Caesarion he had an heir and could establish a monarchy. Probably,
Caesar protracted his stay in Egypt to see whether he would have a son, which
he found more important than pacifying situation in Rome.²⁵
e singularity of the relationship of Caesar and Cleopatra lay in the fact that
she was the sole continuator and heiress to the tradition of the empire of Alexander the Great. Alexander was fascinated with Egyptian religion and visited the
temple of Amon, where the priests recognized him as a son of that god. Perhaps Caesar propagated the view that he was an incarnation of Amon among the
Egyptians. Such identification is confirmed on a bas-relief found in Hermontis,
near ebes, which shows birth of Caesarion and Cleopatra talking with Amon.²⁶
Perhaps the trip to Egypt was not associated with leisure only, but also with a
quest for inspiration for the future. A testimony to the far-reaching plans of Caesar is borne in the statue of Cleopatra at the temple of Venus Genetrix on the
²²
²³
²⁴
²⁵
²⁶
App., BC, 2.68, Genetrix appears 2.102, Cass. Dio, 43.22.2.
Coarelli 1975, 104; Anderson 1984, 40.
Urlich 1999, 80.
Walter 1983, 420.
Bradford 2001, 69.
92
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Forum Julium. Aer the victorious war with the Parthians he wanted to change
Rome, while the cult of Cleopatra as Venus was its prelude. It is difficult to state
how the future was supposed to look like. Nevertheless, Caesar certainly thought
about it and saw in it a place at his side for a queen, the successor of Alexander.
At the time, Alexandria was an extraordinary city. Caesar had already lost
his head not only for Cleopatra, but also for the capital of her state. Admiedly,
he tried to look at the city with a cool eye of a soldier, appraising the strategic
qualities of the whole and of the detail, but as uniformly aested by his biographers, aer Alexandria his native Rome seemed small, constricted and grimy,
so that he briskly took to modernizing it aer Alexandrian fashion, in which
he was interrupted by the sudden stab of Brutus’ dagger.²⁷ In contrast to Rome,
from the very onset Alexandria was planned as a large centre, had a regular grid
of wide streets, magnificent sacred and lay buildings, public parks and gardens,
royal palaces, and was divided into quarters.
ere are besides in the city temples pompous with loy roofs, conspicuous among
them the Serapeum, which, though feeble words merely belile it, yet is so adorned
with extensive columned halls, with almost breathing statues, and a great number of
other works of art, that next to the Capitolium, with which revered Rome elevates
herself to eternity, the whole world beholds nothing more magnificent. In this were
invaluable libraries, and the unanimous testimony of ancient records declares that
700.000 books.²⁸
Also the inhabitants of Rome realized the differences in the degree of progress
in urban planning between Rome and Alexandria. is is evident in the rumours
circulating in Rome which concerned the plans of the capital being moved from
Rome to Alexandria by Caesar,²⁹ and later by Mark Antony.³⁰ Obviously, these
plans cannot be treated as real, but rather as a rumour spread by political opponents. It must have had some degree of justification, since a transfer of the capital
was referred to.
Aer the victorious war with Pompey, and aer restoring Cleopatra to the
throne, the lovers were to go on a voyage on the Nile. e antique sources do
not provide any detailed information on that trip. ey probably set out in early
spring of 47 BC. e longest account originates from Appian who relates that
Caesar ascended the Nile with four hundred ships, exploring the country in company with Cleopatra and generally enjoying himself with her. e details, however,
²⁷ Tkaczow 1988, 46.
²⁸ Amm. Marc., 22.16.12.
²⁹ Suet., Caes., 79: Nay, more, the report had spread in various quarters that he intended to move to
Ilium or Alexandria.
³⁰ Cass. Dio, 50.4.2: is caused the Romans in their indignation to believe that the other reports in
circulation were also true, to the effect that if Antony should prevail, he would bestow their city upon
Cleopatra and transfer the seat of power to Egypt.
      
93
of these events are related more particularly in my Egyptian history.³¹ Suetonius,
when describing Caesar’s relationships with women, emphasizes that but above
all with Cleopatra, with whom he oen feasted until daybreak, and he would have
gone through Egypt with her in her state-barge almost to Aethiopia, had not his
soldiers refused to follow him. Finally he called her to Rome and did not let her leave
until he had ladened her with high honours and ri gis, and he allowed her to give
his name to the ild whi she bore. In fact, according to certain Greek writers, this
ild was very like Caesar in looks and carriage.³² ere is no information concerning the voyage in Caesar’s diaries, although one could hardly expect it to be
there, since these are diaries devoted to armed conflicts and information of legal,
economic or geographic nature relating directly to those conflicts. An allusion
to the time spent with Cleopatra was probably included in the speech of Mark
Antony aer Caesar’s death: is beer than anything else showed that he had
not become weaker in Alexandria and had not delayed there out of voluptuousness.
For how could he have won that victory so easily without having great mental vigor
in reserve and great physical strength?³³ Mark Antony seems to make an excuse
for the longer stay of Caesar’s in Egypt, as if an unfavourable opinion on these
holidays prevailed among the Roman populace. Cassius Dio, when describing the
events in Egypt during Caesar’s sojourn there, does not even mention the trip on
the Nile. He presents the queen as a power-hungry woman who seduced Caesar.
She would have detained him even longer in Egypt or else would have set out with
him at once for Rome, had not Pharnaces not only drawn Caesar away from Egypt,
very mu against his will, but also hindered him from hurrying to Italy.³⁴
e lovers sailed on a royal barge with cabins, which was used on special
occasions. e appearance of the vessel is unknown. It was certainly more splendid than the transport ship we know from the description of Suetonius’, on which
Cleopatra seduced Antony.³⁵ at transport ship had a gold-plated stern and purple sails. e silver-gilded oars moved to the rhythm of aulos, syrinx and kithara.
On the deck, Cleopatra reminded Suetonius of Aphrodite. Still, the ship of the
queen bedazzled Antony not so much with its dimensions, but with the sumptuousness, illumination with lights, dishes and valuables.³⁶ e opulence must have
³¹ App., BC, 2.14.90.
³² Suet., Caes., 52.1.
³³ Cass. Dio, 44.46.2.
³⁴ Cass. Dio, 42.45.1.
³⁵ Bradford 2001, 71.
³⁶ Plut., Ant., 26: Antony sent, therefore, and invited her to supper; but she thought it meet that
he should rather come to her. At once, then, wishing to display his complacency and friendly feelings, Antony obeyed and went. He found there a preparation that beggared description, but was most
amazed at the multitude of lights. For, as we are told, so many of these were let down and displayed
on all sides at once, and they were arranged and ordered with so many inclinations and adjustments
to ea other in the form of rectangles and circles, that few sights were so beautiful or so worthy to be
seen as this.
94
 
been overwhelming, because Antony prized lavish lifestyle and he was not an
easy one to be surprised. e construction of the ships varied as well: one served
voyages at sea, the other on the rivers. Caesar sailed on the Nile on a cabin ship
thalamegos, as Suetonius defines it.³⁷ One can arrive at a notion of a cabin ship
on which Cleopatra and Caesar travelled through the detailed description of a
lavishly furnished and gigantic barge of Ptolemy IV Philopator (221–205 BC), surviving in Athenaeus.³⁸ When describing the ship, he uses the same denomination
— navis thalamegus,³⁹ just as Suetonius does with regard to the ship of Caesar and
Cleopatra.⁴⁰ Athenaeus does not mention how long the barge of Ptolemy IV was
in use. e description allows to infer that it was a floating palace. It consisted
of several symposium halls, accommodating several dozen tricliniums, bedrooms
and galleries. e interiors were finished in Syrian cedar and Milesian cypress,
ivory and gold. e second deck held, among others, a temple of Aphrodite with
a marble statue of the goddess and a chamber devoted to Bakchos.⁴¹ It may be
assumed that the ship that Cleopatra used was furnished with at least equivalent
splendor.
e voyage would probably take place during daylight, since the Nile was
relatively dangerous. It may be that at times accommodation on land was used,⁴²
however, it is unlikely to have been a regular occurrence. It seems that places
of appropriate standard were few and far between. Appian⁴³ mentions four hundred accompanying vessels, yet he does not report what type of ships they were.
It is possible that their number had not been exaggerated taking into account
not only the sheer number of soldiers, but also several months’ worth of provisions for these.⁴⁴ Even if the number had been overestimated,⁴⁵ it nevertheless
reflects a surprisingly large number of ships partaking in the expedition. e vessels quartered both servants as well as the soldiers, due to whom the journey was
discontinued. None of the sources mentions where the mutiny took place, when
it occurred nor for what reason. It is most frequently assumed that the soldiers
could not bear the sight of Cleopatra in the arms of Caesar. Such view, however,
may have been the aermath of the later propaganda of Octavian. e probable
³⁷ Suet., Caes., 52.
³⁸ Athen., Deipnos., 5.204–206c. On the barge see Caspari 1916, 1–74.
³⁹ Athen., Deipnos., 5.204.
⁴⁰ It is a relatively late source with regard to the events described — his account comes form the
beginning of the 3ʳᵈ century AD. Athenaeus came from Naucratis in Egypt. He was born during
the reign of Marcus Aurelius, while his adult life coincided with the times of Septimius Severus.
See Bartol and Danielewicz 2010, 7.
⁴¹ Athen., Deipnos., 5.204–206.
⁴² Łukaszewicz 2005, 169.
⁴³ App., BC, 2.14.90.
⁴⁴ Łukaszewicz 2005, 169.
⁴⁵ Walter 1983, 420.
      
95
grounds for the mutiny was the problem of passing the 1ˢᵗ cataract. A cabin ship
had to be dragged out from the river and carried by land, thus bypassing the
cataract.⁴⁶ e effort of the whole undertaking would have to be shouldered by
the soldiers, for whom such work would have been degrading. However, without them, the voyage could not have been continued for reasons of security.⁴⁷
e itinerary was certainly longer and it was not completed. Otherwise Appian
would not have referred to a sudden discontinuation of the cruise. e mutiny of
the soldiers might have ensued for several reasons — either, as the historiographers wish, the soldiers did not want to look at Caesar in the arms of Cleopatra,
or, which is also probable, did not want to carry the barge and the remaining
vessels to bypass the 1ˢᵗ cataract.
Due to lack of information as to the places visited by Cleopatra and Caesar, we
may only presume a few probable locations. If they had reached the 1ˢᵗ cataract,
then one of the first places they were able to see was Heliopolis. It was the main
cult centre of the god Re. is might have been followed by the pyramids of
the 4ᵗʰ dynasty in Gizeh, the Sphinx, Djosser’s pyramid — the first step pyramid from the times of the 3ʳᵈ dynasty in Sakkara. Memphis was in the vicinity.
Subsequently, they might have sailed to Arsinoe, through the channel that connected the Nile with the lake Moeris. If they had sailed to Memphis then they
were in Fayum. Near Arsinoe the so-called Labirynth was to be found, a today
non-existent, gigantic complex of tombs and temples. When one considers the
concentration of monuments, then the journey might have ended at that point.
Other imposing sites were several or more than ten days’ travel away. In the
assessment of A. Łukaszewicz,⁴⁸ the voyage on the Nile to the Labirynth might
have taken about one and a half months, and much longer to ebes, namely at
least two months. Moreover, between Heracleopolis and Panopolis the voyage
was not that interesting. On the other hand, before the 1ˢᵗ cataract there were
such cities as Abydos (temples erected by Seti I and Ramesses II), Koptos, ebes
or Apollonospoli (Edfu), which Caesar might have cared about to see.
Nowadays the motives behind the journey of Caesar receive varied evaluation.
It is assumed that if in Rome the situation was strained and required his intervention, then he should not have abandoned himself to pleasure. It is a thing difficult
to reconcile with the assessment of Caesar’s personality, who was regarded as an
overzealous man and a person devoted to the duties of state and his own career.
Some researchers interpret the trip as a confirmation of Caesar’s subordination
to Cleopatra, with the former becoming virtually a slave of the queen. During the
cruise he did not write a single report, because Cleopatra controlled his actions.⁴⁹
⁴⁶
⁴⁷
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
Vanderberg 2006, 152.
Vanderberg 2006, 153.
Łukaszewicz 2005, 176.
Vanderberg 2006, 152.
96
 
Aention is also drawn to the fact that the trip was to be a preliminary reconnaissance of the Egyptian interior with regard to economy, tax yield efficiency,
and the location of trade routes which connected Egypt with the East.⁵⁰ Such
information was significant in view of the legendary status of the land.⁵¹ A number of the scholars is of the opinion that the cruise might have taken place only
for pleasure⁵² and for recreation purposes.⁵³ Caesar probably combined “business
with pleasure”. e time of the year for sailing out was perfect. e temperatures
in February and March were still low. e argument referring to the need of
leisure seems relevant if Caesar’s age is taken into consideration. us far, he
had lived intensely, but a few months’ relationship with a young woman might
have made him realise the passage of time.⁵⁴
e effects of the stay in Egypt were visible immediately upon the return. As
Suetonius writes:
in particular, for the adornment and convenience of the city, also for the protection
and extension of the Empire, he formed more projects and more extensive ones every
day: first of all, to rear a temple of Mars, greater than any in existence, filling up
and levelling the pool in which he had exhibited the sea-fight, and to build a theatre
of vast size, sloping down from the Tarpeian rock; to reduce the civil code to fixed
limits, and of the vast and prolix mass of statutes to include only the best and most
essential in a limited number of volumes; to open to the public the greatest possible
libraries of Greek and Latin books, assigning to Marcus Varro the charge of procuring
and classifying them; to drain the Pomptine marshes; to let out the water from Lake
Fucinus; to make a highway from the Adriatic across the summit of the Apennines as
far as the Tiber; to cut a canal through the Isthmus; to check the Dacians, who had
poured into Pontus and race; then to make war on the Parthians by way of Lesser
Armenia, but not to risk a bale with them until he had first tested their mele.⁵⁵
In the times of the Republic, Rome grew in a chaotic and disorderly fashion. Admiedly, the existing temples were renovated, and more were built, but until
Caesar no one contemplated the city as a coherent architectural complex.
When Caesar finally turned to the problem of Rome’s appearance shortly before his
death, it is revealing that his solution was utopian one. He wanted to change the
course of Tiber, build a huge theatre stretching from slope of Capitol to the Campus
Martius, and create a new Hellenistic city. Apparently he considered the old one
beyond redemption.⁵⁶
⁵⁰
⁵¹
⁵²
⁵³
⁵⁴
⁵⁵
⁵⁶
Łukaszewicz 2005, 170.
Bradford 2001, 71.
Łukaszewicz 2005, 168 and 170.
Łukaszewicz 2005, 168 and 170; Walter 1983, 420.
Goldsworthy 2007, 425.
Suet., Caes., 44.
Zanker 1990, 19–20.
      
97
e new forum was Caesar’s greatest building enterprise. e most important edifice there was the temple of Venus Genetrix. Distinguishing a goddess
with such appellation validated the significance of the Trojan origin for Caesar.
He manifested it at the beginning of his career, and towards the end of his life
it became a foundation in justifying his political aspirations and actions. Forum
Julium was the first Forum in Rome built by a private person, although outside
the capital there had been precedents. Earlier, Caesar founded a Forum Julium
in Narbonese Gaul, on the hill of Oxybier.⁵⁷, while other gentes embarked on
similar actions⁵⁸ e idea to build a forum and a temple which elevated Caesar to the status of divinity might have probably been born during the spell in
Egypt, which he visited in the company of queen Cleopatra — an incarnation of
the goddess Isis. During the Nile cruise, the queen showed Caesar the mighty
temples, which commemorated the departed rulers of the land as gods.⁵⁹ is is
probably the source from which sprang the idea of building in Egypt a temple of
the divine Caesar called Caesareion. e Roman society was too conservative for
such schemes (Republic was still the official system!), therefore Caesar decided
to promote the cult of Venus Genetrix at the new Forum. us he propagated the
cult of his own mother, while elevating himself to the position of the goddess’s
son.⁶⁰ It is difficult to say how Forum Julium would have looked like, if it had not
been for Cleopatra. e works had begun much earlier, yet only aer Caesar’s
return from Egypt did they gather momentum. is seems to confirm that the
final character of the project had crystallized. During the fight with Pompey,
Caesar drew on Venus, but these references did not address any particular aspect
of the goddess. More elements weighed in favour of the Victrix aspect, rather than
Genetrix. Only at the Forum was she presented as a guardian and the foundress
of the Julian family.
Bibliography:
Anderson C.J., 1984, e Historical Topography of the Imperial Fora, Bruxelles (Collection Latomus,
182).
Bartol K., Danielewicz J. (eds), 2010, Atenajos, Uczta mędrców, przełożyli, wstępem i komentarzem
opatrzyli K. Bartol i J. Danielewicz, Poznań.
Bradford E., 2001, Kleopatra, Warszawa 2001.
Caspari F., 1916, Das Nilschiff Ptolemaios IV, Jahrbu des Deutsen Aräologisen Instituts 21,
1–74.
Coarelli F., 1975, Rom. Ein aräologisen Führer, Freiburg.
⁵⁷ Plin., NH, 3.10; 3.35; Pomp. Mela, 2.77; Tac., Ann., 2.63: relate that the name of the town was Forum Julium, perhaps aer the Forum founded by Caesar; RE, VII.1, 1910, col. 69–70 (Ihm, s.v. Forum
Iuli).
⁵⁸ Plin., NH, 2.116: oppida Caesena, Claterna, Fora Clodi, Livi, Popili, Druentinorum, Corneli, Licini,
Fraventini, Fidentini, Otensini, Padinates, Regieses a Lepido.
⁵⁹ Taylor 1931, 61–62.
⁶⁰ Taylor 1931, 62–63; Coarelli 1975, 107; Stanisław Śnieżewski (1993, 18–19) thinks that the posthumous title of Jupiter Iulius suggests identification with Jupiter.
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Favro D., 1996, Urban Image of Augustan Rome, Cambridge.
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Goldsworthy A., Cezar. Życie giganta, Warszawa 2007.
Lowe B.J., 2002, Sextus Pompeius and Spain: 46–44 BC, in Sextus Pompeius, editors A. Powell and
K. Welch, contributors A.M. Gowing et al., London, 65–102.
Łukaszewicz A., 2005, Kleopatra. Ostatnia królowa starożytnego Egiptu, Warszawa.
Powell A., 2002, “An Island Amid the Flame”: e Strategy and Imagery of Sextus Pompeius,
43–36-BC, in Sextus Pompeius, editors A. Powell and K. Welch, contributors A.M. Gowing et
al., London, 103–133.
Śnieżewski S.A., 1993, Problem boskości Oktawiana-Augusta w poezji augustowskiej, Kraków.
Taylor L.R., 1931, e Divinity of the Roman Emperor, Middletown.
Tkaczow B., 1988, Aleksandria. Najjaśniejsza, Najpiękniejsza, Najświetniejsza, Warszawa.
Urlich R.B., 1999, Julius Caesar and the Creation of the Forum Iulium, American Journal of Araeology 97, 49–80.
Walter G., 1983, Cezar, Warszawa.
Weinstock S., 1971, Divus Julius, Oxford.
Vanderberg P., 2006, Cezar i Kleopatra. Ostatnie dni Cesarstwa Rzymskiego, Warszawa.
Zanker P., 1990, e Power of Images in the Age of Augustus, Michigan.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
A FEW REMARKS ON THE MOTIF OF BATTLES
IN HELIODORUS’ ETHIOPIAN STORY
S D
D
escriptions of bales appear in Greek literature from its very beginning,
that is, from the poems of Homer. ere are several such descriptions
of bales in Greek romances too. ey appear there as bales between
regular armies, but also as common fights between bandits. e authors refer
sometimes to historical events. For example, Chariton describes military struggles between the Egyptians and the Persians that took place in the first half of the
4ᵗʰ century BC. e motif of bale is known in the novel of Achilleus Tatius, one
can also find it in miniature in Longus, the echo of a bale between two armies
is to be heard in the fragments of romance called briefly Ninus. In general, the
course of bales is the product of authors’ imagination, even if the details are
taken from real events. Below, several places in the Ethiopian Story of Heliodorus
are discussed, where the motif of different bales is to be found.
1. e novel begins with a bale scene which has recently taken place at
a beach at the mouth of the Nile.¹ e reader, following the gaze of the
narrator, is looking at a space, not too large, strewn with corpses of the
slaughtered. e kind of weapons lying about and the remnants of a banquet show that it was more a brawl than a real bale. e description of
the balefield is presented here not so much for itself but as a background
to introduce equally mysterious and intriguing hero and heroine. It is some
time later in the narrative that the reader learns about the nature of this
bale.
2. e next bale² takes place in the village of bandits, who are also called
buccaneers (boukoloi). e village is being aacked by a band of brigands
who first appeared on the seashore and were chased off by their rivals. e
assailants appear suddenly, but the chief has still time enough to deliver an
address “to the soldiers”, hide Charicleia in a cave, and look for his squire.
From the military point of view, yamis deserves a court martial. While
¹ Heliod., 1.1.
² Heliod., 1.29ff.
99
100
 
the bale is raging around him he returns to the cave in order to murder
Charicleia, so that she would not fall alive into the hands of the aackers.
Instead, he murders isbe by mistake, and then plans his escape. He would
have been killed but the assailants, expecting a ransom, take him alive. e
narrator does not pass judgement on the behaviour of the commander. He
presents it in a way that allows the reader to view it in “negative” light.
e bale which for the inhabitants of the village means “to be or not to
be” (houses in flames, merciless killings) becomes a seing for yamis’
conduct. Calling up cinematographic technique of film making, the camera
moves on yamis showing him mainly not as a commander in time of
the bale, but one busily minding his own private affairs. is seems to
be Heliodorus’ intention, as he repeatedly underlines the particularly low
morale of the barbarians. In all probability, this is the reason why he is not
commenting on the commander’s conduct.
3. Kalasiris and Charicleia wander into the village of Bessa in search of
eagenes.³ Here we witness another bale scene with corpses still scattered about and other signs of recent fighting. is time, the reader does
not have to wait long for explanation. An old woman tells how a troop of
Persian soldiers was taking a youth as a gi for the king, and how a group
of the locals, we would perhaps call them partisans today, rescued him and
how he joined his saviours in their march against Memphis. is is an altogether different kind of bale from the one between the bandits, since the
object of the aack were Persian soldiers occupying Egypt and that could
result in grievous consequences. e import of the consecutive bales will
grow. From the point of narrative technique, however, they function to unexpectedly delay the meeting between Charicleia and eagenes. A careful
reader would expect some complications preceding the meeting of the two
young lovers, but they could hardly predict their nature.
4. One would expect considerably greater military adventure at Memphis
on arrival of the troop of natives led by yamis and accompanied by
eagenes.⁴ However, it ended in an almost fratricidal duel and finally a
dangerous assault was averted. To some extent it was due to the wife of
the satrap Arsace, inflamed with great passion for eagenes. Again, the
conduct of a person responsible for military operation giving vent to her
passion is not without impact on the former’s course. ere are no Heliodorus’ comments on this issue, he leaves it to the readers to draw conclusions for themselves.
³ Heliod., 6.12ff.
⁴ Heliod., 7.1ff.
       
101
5. At last, a real bale takes place at Syene and then on the open land beyond
the city walls.⁵ Allied forces under the command of king of Ethiopia Hydaspes lay siege to Persian satrap Oroondates and his army in Syene. e
siege of Syene is of unusual character. e city was encircled by an earth
embankment and the space in between was flooded with water from the
Nile. Heliodorus, almost like an engineer of a construction, describes the
whole course of action, relates the movements of the armies on both sides,
focuses on the atmosphere in the besieged city.⁶
6. Owing to the magnanimity of Hydespes, Oroondates could not only leave
the besieged city but also return at the head of his army in which armoured
cavalry dominated.⁷ Heliodorus painstakingly and in full detail describes
the weapons used and the combat manner of individual soldier. He acquaints the reader with the terrain of the imminent bale, and the deployment of the troops on both sides. In equally full detail he relates successive stages of the bale; how Hydespes put the cavalry out of action and
then brought elephants into bale, which secured him victory, crowned
with the taking of Oroondates himself as his prisoner. Naturally, the description of the bale is not the chronicled account but its fictionalized
narrative version, and fictional though it is, it creates an impression that
real events are being related here.⁸ Painstakingly presented different kinds
of fighting, from a brawl to a real bale with armored cavalry and bale
elephants, woven into the narrative so that they interact with the story of
the main protagonists, testify to the author’s creative skill in handling such
incidents.
In the course of the bale the main heroes of the novel are not mentioned. We
hear about them just before the beginning of military action. Hydaspes reviewed
the prisoners,⁹ received them on account of the spoils and future sacrifices on the
altar. On seeing eagenes and Charicleia he said: It is good you are reminding me
of them now because when you introduced them before I hardly noticed them in this
commotion.¹⁰ For eagenes and Charicleia the siege and the bale that follows
aerwards is also a kind of commotion that thwarts their plans of prompt arrival
⁵ Heliod., 9.1–15.
⁶ It is believed that Julian Apostate imitated Heliodorus’s description of the siege of Syene in
his two speeches in praise of Emperor Constantius, where he wrote about the siege of the city of
Nisibis in 350. It is also claimed that it was Heliodorus who imitated Julian. e solution of this
question would have some bearing on determining the date of Heliodorus’ romance. It deserves a
separate scholarly investigation. Personally I am inclined to believe that Julian imitated Heliodorus.
⁷ Heliod., 9.6ff.
⁸ Heliod., 9.14ff.
⁹ Heliod., 9.1.
¹⁰ Heliod., 9.25.
102
 
at the royal court. At the same time, owing to the war, they unexpectedly find
themselves in the king’s hands. us, both bales are wrien circuitously into
the adventures of the main protagonists and their quest. Simply speaking, the
purpose of the war was to bring Charicleia into her parent’s hands.¹¹
Conclusion
e above short descriptions of different bales in the Ethiopian Story of Heliodorus are more or less incorporated into the main stream of events presented
in the novel. Aer all, even if for instance the presentation of Persian weapons
seems unrelated, the arms actually symbolize the Persian power which will be
annihilated soon. In some scenes of the bales Heliodorus also shows the superiority of things Hellenic in comparison with the barbarians. And so, the senseless
bale at the beach took place among the pirates, who were defeated eventually, as we learn later, with the arrows of Charicleia, educated in Greece. Next, the
author’s account of the bale at Syene is more complex. e bale takes place between the much beer Persian army and the seemingly weaker Ethiopian troops.
However, the Persian satrap was too self-confident, and finally he lost, while the
Ethiopian king appeared to be an intelligent commander who was able to defeat
even the famous Persian cavalry. Nevertheless, the ultimate victory in his kingdom will be won by the “Greek spirit”, introduced by Charicleia, the daughter
of the king, who returns unexpectedly to Ethiopia. Secretly abandoned by her
mother when an infant, she ended up in Greece thanks to a fortuitous coincidence, grew up at the temple of Apollo in Delphi, and aer numerous twists and
adversities she now returns to her homeland, soon to ascend the throne of her
father.
Primary sources:
Héliodore, Les Éthiopiques (éagène et Chariclée), texte établi par R.M. Raenbury, T.W. Lumb et
traduit par J. Maillon., I–III, Paris 1960.
Heliodor, Opowieść etiopska o eagenesie i Chariklei, z jezyka greckiego przełożył, wstępem
i przypisami opatrzył S. Dworacki, Poznań 2000.
Heliodorus, Ethiopian Story, translated by Sir W. Lamb, edited with new introduction and notes by
J.R. Morgan, London 1997.
Selected bibliography:
Bowersock G.M., 1994, e Aethiopica of Heliodorus and the “Historia Augusta”, in Historiae Augustae colloquium Genevense, a cura di G. Bonamente, F. Paschoud, Bari, 43–52.
Cieśluk M., 2008, Bohater i gra przeznaczenia w “Opowieści etiopskiej” Heliodora, Szczecin.
Holzberg H., 2003, Powieść antyczna. Wprowadzenie, Kraków.
Lightfoot C.S., 1988, Facts and Fiction — the ird Siege of Nisibis (AD 350), Historia 37, 105–125.
Luginbill R.D., 2000, Chariton’s Use of ucydides “History” in Introducing the Egyptian Revolt
(Chaireas and Callirhoe 6.8), Mnemosyne 53, 1–11.
¹¹ See: Sandy 1982, 19.
       
103
Morgan J.R., 1982, History, Romance and Realism in the “Aethiopika” of Heliodorus, Classical Antiquity 1.2 (California Studies in Classical Antiquity, 13,2), 221–265.
Perry B.E., 1967, e Ancient Romances. A Literary-Historical Account of eir Origins, Berkeley –
Los Angeles.
Polaszek E., 1998, Realizm i fantastyka w starożytnej powieści greiej, Kraków.
Sandy G.N., 1982, Heliodorus, Boston.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
I WAS HERE!
INTENTIONAL AND ACCIDENTAL MARKS ON ROOFTILES, BRICKS
AND CERAMIC TILES BASED ON FINDS FROM SECTOR IV IN NOVAE
P D
E
xcavations of the Center for Research on the Antiquity of Southeaster Europe of the University of Warsaw in sector IV at Novae (fig. 1) uncovered
many fragments of building ceramics with marks on them (fig. 2). Some of
these marks were intentional, like the finger impressions and rough game boards,
others were accidental — impressions of shoes and animal paws. e fragmentariness of these marks impedes analysis.
Sector IV lies in the northern part of Novae, at the intersection of the old via
praetoria and via sagularis. e architecture in this part of the fort and the later
civil town has been studied and interpreted. A Flavian legionary bath, which was
the first to be built in this area, was replaced with an army hospital, valetudinarium (fig. 3), which gave way in turn, starting from the second half of the 3ʳᵈ century AD, to civil architecture.¹ In medieval times two burial grounds functioned in
the general area.² e overall stratigraphic sequence and absolute chronology of
individual layers were established, providing the necessary framework for dating
finds, including building ceramics. e evidence demonstrates that at first these
materials were manufactured by the legionaries themselves as well as by private
producers.
e first impression of a legionary’s shoe was published in the excavation report of 1974.³ A large fragment of a tegula with a stamp of the I Italic Legion and
a clear impression of a type of shoe recognized as a caliga sandal was discovered
in the course of the digging in Sector X, which includes, as is now clear, a basilica
and legionary baths from Trajan’s reign.⁴ e tile was dated to the 2ⁿᵈ–3ʳᵈ century AD. At the same time aention was drawn to small nails discovered in the
same sector in 1972 and 1974, especially a group of approximately 360 small nails
¹
²
³
⁴
Dyczek 2008, 31–70.
Dyczek 2008a, 235–246; 2008b, 473-479 and 592–596.
Biernacki 1979, 53–59.
Biernacki 1976, 134 and 136, fig. 1 and 2.
105
106
 
from a 1ˢᵗ–2ⁿᵈ century AD context, identified as box elements.⁵ ey are now believed to have been used on the soles of legionary shoes. Two examples of shoe
impressions identified as caligae were published in 1983;⁶ similar impressions are
known also from other Lower Danubian sites.⁷
ere are 14 rooiles from sector IV in Novae which bear part impressions of
soles, all from the right shoe, which should not be surprising considering that to
stamp rooiles in moulds lying at a farther distance, the legionary entrusted with
the task could have stepped on the ones nearest to him in order to reach as many
as he could at one go. He was undoubtedly stamping tiles to his le and right and
in front, because on one tile the sole of a shoe was impressed a number of times
at different angles. e tile must have been already sufficiently dried for it not
to have been deformed by this action. e condition of the clay also means that
greater force had to be used to make the stamp. Impression depth and the angle
at which some of the stamp impressions had been made suggests that the moulds
were lying on the ground side by side in rows set about 60 cm apart. is allowed
stamps to be pressed on a maximum of 12 tiles from the same position. Further
studies of stamp depths and positioning on the tile with regard to the mold could
reveal more details of the process. One thing it already explains beer than other
theories is the occurrence of more than one stamp on a given tile.
Shoe impressions on rooiles from the army hospital are extremely interesting despite their rarity (only a few impressions despite the number of approximately 36.000 shoes needed annually by a legion⁸), because they lead to conclusions regarding both the building ceramics technological processes and the
legionaries themselves.
Two bricks with shoe impressions from Novae are of significance because they
can be dated precisely. Both were discovered in the ruins of the Flavian baths
which were erected just aer the arrival of the legio I Italica in Novae, that is,
right aer AD 69 and were dismantled in the last year of the 1ˢᵗ century AD;
moreover, the baths suffered from an earthquake which occurred around AD 80.
One fragment of a large brick was discovered in the rubble filling the caldarium of
the bath. It came from the construction of a suspensura and bore five impressions
of the same sole (fig. 4a, 1–5), characterized by a double row of hobnails running
along the edge. An identical type of sole was classified by C. van Driell-Murray
and M. Bechter as type 3b and by W. Groneman-van Waateringe as type C1. Both
are dated to the 1ˢᵗ century AD⁹ and are known to occur in the 40s and 50s AD in
⁵ Olczak 1975, 99–103.
⁶ Sarnowski 1983, 29 (Taf. I, 12 and 13), 31.
⁷ Zahariade and Dvorski 1997, 41.
⁸ Van Driel-Murray 2001a, 362.
⁹ Groneman-van Waateringe 1967, 142; 2001a, 365, fig. 54; cf. Haalebos 1977, fig. 40; van
Driel-Murray, Bechter 1984, 20.
  !
Fig. 1: Plan of the legionary fort in Novae (by P. Dyczek).
107
108
 
Fig. 2: Aerial view of Sector IV, Center archives.
Valkenburg, Vindonissa and Vindolanda.¹⁰ e impression must have been made
in AD 70 because the caldarium was not destroyed in the earthquake and there
was no reason for any building material of later date to have been introduced
into the bath construction.
e other find is a rare example of a shoe impression on a bessales (fig. 4b),
partly overlapping an earlier impression of an animal paw. e brick is proof
that elements of the hypocaust system were produced by the same process as
tegulae. A characteristic feature of this impression is the grouping of hobnails
in the heel and toe parts and leaving the space under the arch of the foot free.
Stamps of this kind are extremely rare. e best parallel is a caliga impression
from Mainz dating from the 70s AD.¹¹ A variant of this hobnail arrangement has
been recorded in 1ˢᵗ century material from Valkenburg and Valsen.¹² e bessales
from Novae with this impression was incorporated into the hypocaust system of
the Flavian bath during its rebuilding in AD 80–81 aer the quake. It cannot be
¹⁰ Van Driel-Murray 1999, 178–179, fig. 10.
¹¹ Göpferich 1986, fig. 47.1.
¹² Groneman-van Waateringe 1967, 130, fig. 43.13; van Driel-Murray 1999, 176, fig. 8; 2001a, 365,
fig. 54.
  !
109
Fig. 3: Plan of the valetudinarium, by P. Dyczek and T. Słowik.
excluded that it was reused, meaning that bricks salvaged from the ruined part
of the bath were used in new construction. erefore, the impression would have
been made between AD 70 and 80.
One of the rooiles discovered in 1989 bore four impressions of the same sole.
e impression featured a double row of hobnails along the edge of the sole and
a small grouping of hobnails under the middle part of the foot, making it type
2b from Bonna¹³ and type C1 from Valkenburg.¹⁴ A similar paern appeared on
soles from Vindolanda.¹⁵ e sole belonged most likely to a caliga-type of shoe.
e impression may be dated to the period of the building of the hospital, that is
to the very end of the 1ˢᵗ century AD.
From the same early period there is from Novae a caliga sole impression
marked by a single row of hobnails (fig. 4c). Similar impressions are known from
¹³ Van Driel-Murray, Bechter 1984, 20, fig. 3.
¹⁴ Groneman-van Waatering 1967, 135 (fig. 48, n. 80), 142; Haalebos 1977, fig. 40.
¹⁵ Van Driel-Murray 1999, 178–179, fig. 10.
110
 
(a)
(b)
(c)
(d)
()
(g)
(e)
Fig. 4: Different legionary shoe impressions on building ceramics from Sector IV, by
P. Dyczek, drawing M. Bura.
  !
111
many sites, such as Kalkriese, Velsen, Valkenburg, Mainz,¹⁶ where they have been
dated generally from the last quarter through the end of the 1ˢᵗ century AD.¹⁷
Two almost identical impressions of caligae soles can be seen on two rooiles
from the army hospital. e soles had been hobnailed in an irregular paern
all over the surface (fig. 4d). is paern, typical of the 1ˢᵗ century AD, can be
observed on finds from many sites, including Iža,¹⁸ Bonna (where they formed
type 2a¹⁹), Mainz,²⁰ Valkenburg and Zwammerdam,²¹ as well as Bar Hill.²²
A characteristic sole impression on another rooile (fig. 4e) may have had a
magical aspect.²³ Sandals with similar arrangements of hobnails are known from
other sites, like Valkenburg,²⁴ Saalburg,²⁵ Mainz²⁶ and different Germanian sites
where the terminus post quem was set for AD 211/217.²⁷ A similar arrangement
of hobnails has also been recorded at Bar Hill in Britain.²⁸
e same hobnail arrangement can be observed on two other impressions
from Novae (fig. 4) and possibly also on another two. It resembles a fanciful
vegetal scroll and flowers that surely had more than just an ornamental or utilitarian character. is arrangement of hobnails on calcei shoes has been recorded
in Germania,²⁹ including for example Mainz³⁰ and Velsen.³¹
Another motif is visible on a calceus sole impression on two rooiles (fig. 4g).
A single row of hobnails runs lengthwise along the sole. Identical impressions
have been recorded, for example, from Mainz.³² Taking into consideration all of
the data on the dating of finds from the abovementioned sites, we can assume
that this particular arrangement of hobnails was in use under the Antonines and
therefore the soles came from calcei. It could also be proof that the rooile was
made in the early 3ʳᵈ century AD, corresponding to archaeological data dating
the last renovation of the army hospital to the reign of Septimius Severus.
e present analysis shows that impressions of legionary shoe soles from Novae fall into two chronologically distinct groups. e first one is connected with
¹⁶
¹⁷
¹⁸
¹⁹
²⁰
²¹
²²
²³
²⁴
²⁵
²⁶
²⁷
²⁸
²⁹
³⁰
³¹
³²
Göpferich 1986, 36, fig. 19.
Van Driel-Murray 1999, 172–173, fig. 4.
Rajtar 1994, fig. 8, nos 16 and 17.
Van Driel-Murray, Bechter 1984, 20, fig. 3.
Göpferich 1986, fig. 47, no. 1.
Groneman-van Waatering 1967, 142; Haalebos 1977, fig. 40.
Robertson, Sco, Keppie 1975, fig. 25 and 49.
Cf. van Driel-Murray 2001, 92.
Groenman-van Waateringe 1967, fig. 48, no. 68.
Busch 1965, Taf. 15, nos 223, 224, 225.
Göpferich 1986, fig. 44, no. 93.
Van Driel-Murray 2001a, 352, fig. 22; Simon 2004, 59–60.
Robertson, Sco, Keppie 1975, fig. 26, no. 59.
Van Driel-Murray 2001a, 352, fig. 22b.
Göpferich 1986, fig. 47, no. 3; Groenman-van Waateringe 1967, fig. 48, no. 69.
Van Driel-Murray 1999, 176–177, fig. 8.
Göpferich 1986, fig. 47, no. 5.
112
 
Fig. 5: “Loop” paern made with a small wooden board, photo J. Recław.
the building of the army hospital and historically with the Dacian wars and the
second with the early 3ʳᵈ century AD. is is in keeping with archaeological data to be published in the second volume of the Novae publication. e distinct
chronological division should facilitate the dating of some of the stamps impressed on rooiles, thus helping in determining the termini post and ante quem
for some archaeological layers.
e role of some of the intentional marks on bricks, rooiles and some floor
tiles has long been debated in topic literature. e marks made with one or more
fingers are one example. Sometimes the motif started with the index finger and
then the middle finger and/or ring finger would be added, or the other way round.
is would indicate that the actual number of lines, contrary to some opinions,³³
was of no significance and only the form of the mark maered. Some marks, but
very seldom, were made apparently with the edge of a small board (fig. 5), others
with a kind of comb that le a wavy paern. ere are also marks cut with a
knife.³⁴ e marks are believed to be decoration or else considered as without
any apparent purpose or reason. It has been suggested that they were meant as a
roughening of the surface to facilitate mortar adherence.³⁵ In one hypothesis, the
marks were interpreted as signalling specific batches of the ceramics, thus they
could be said to be numerals of a kind.³⁶
³³ Zahariade and Dvorski 1997, 41; Sarnowski 1983, 26–27, fig. 9 and 10.
³⁴ Zahariade and Dvorski 1997, 41.
³⁵ Zahariade and Dvorski 1997, 42.
³⁶ Chauffin 1956, 83–88; Spitzlberger 1968, 84; Mc Whirr 1978, 364; Branga 1980, 118; Sarnowski
1983, 26.
  !
113
Fig. 6: Typology of marks on building ceramics, by P. Dyczek.
Investigations in the army hospital area have provided new data contributing to the discussion of the role of marks on building ceramic elements. First of
all, let us consider the repertoire.³⁷ e published sets of marks that particular
authors believe to have been placed on rooiles, bricks and other ceramic tiles
differ among themselves.³⁸ It is due sometimes to the limited amount of material
available for analysis, sometimes to errors resulting from the state of preservation
of the objects in question, and sometimes to excessive accuracy. And so, M. Zahariade distinguished fourteen³⁹ and T. Sarnowski — twenty eight, P. Warry —
twenty⁴⁰ kinds of marks.⁴¹ To my mind, one should exclude marks that are part of
the forming process, such as vertical lines at the base of the ridges which can be
interpreted simply as the effect of smoothening the surface of a rooile to remove
excess clay le while making the ridges. Some of the marks distinguished in the
above typologies should also be grouped together, for instance, it was obviously
of no consequence how many fingers were used in making a mark when it was
obviously the form that maered.
³⁷
³⁸
³⁹
⁴⁰
⁴¹
Kurtzmann 2006, 18–19.
Branga 1980, 120, fig. 44.
Zahariade and Dvorski 1997, fig. 31.
Warry 2006, 149.
Sarnowski 1983, fig. 9 and 10.
114
 
Certain regularities should be observed. First of all, imbrices were either plain
or marked with single, double or triple lengthwise lines. Second, diagonal cross
marks were rare on rooiles, but frequent on bricks of all kinds and on floor tiles.
ird, the marks were positioned on the surface of building ceramic elements in
a considered manner. Fourth, some of these marks were introduced during the
production process, like the vertical lines lined up with the ridges on tegulae, as
suggested above. Fih, the marks were made on a wet surface, the clay not having
dried yet, before stamping and before animals had the opportunity to run over
the still wet products. erefore, the marks would have been made by legionaries
right aer the clay was poured into the moulds. Sixth, only some elements were
marked. Having considered all of these elements, one is le with the following
repertoire of marks:
a) semicircle always based on the short edge of a rooile and always on the
side where the ridge is broader (fig. 6a),
b) semicircle or arc based on one of the ridges (fig. 6b),
c) semicircle or arc by the broader end of a ridge (fig. 6c),
d) loop in different places on the surface of the tile, but most oen where the
ridge was broader, rarely on building ceramics other than rooiles (fig. 6d),
e) seldom encountered circle, mostly in the middle of the tile (fig. 6e),
) diagonal lines, occurring in three variants, either along one diagonal or
crossing. Marks of this kind are rare on rooiles, but frequent on all kinds
of bricks and floor tiles (fig. 6),
g) wavy-line motif made with a kind of comb, most frequent on floor tiles
(fig. 6g).
e statistics of the marks found on rooiles from sector IV according to the
groups presented above are as follows: variant “a” — approximately 22%, variants
“b” and “c” — approximately 23%, variant “d” — 45% and “” — proximately 10%.
is is close to statistics for other sites taking into account the state of research,⁴²
indicating there was some kind of consistence in the application of individual
variants of marks.
What then was the meaning of these marks? Some of them, for example, variant “g”, were to my mind purely utilitarian. is variant was found almost exclusively on floor tiles, occasionally on rooiles (see below). In the former case, it
could have been an anti-slipping device, in the laer purely decorative.
Marks “a” to “” were technological in my opinion. e mould for making
rooiles had quite a complicated shape connected with the two ridges needed to
join the tiles into a continuous surface. Only the outer frame would be visible once
⁴² Cf. Chauffin 1956, 83.
  !
115
clay was poured into this mould. In the course of the production process some
of the moulds could have been reversed, but their proper positioning must have
been of importance, especially for workers responsible for forming the ridges, one
edge of which had to be broader. It would have been important also for the men
taking the tiles from the moulds so as not to damage the still so ridge. Having
made the tile, the worker would mark the head of the mould with either the “a”,
“b” or “c” mark. Even today, the same idea stands behind marks on cakes when
making a more complicated shape. e mark was introduced only for reversed
moulds, hence its occurrence on only some elements. It was made in clay that
was evidently still very so, because it is always deeper and has more rounded
edges.
e three marks are considered here together because they appear always at
the head of the mould: “a” always at the edge and “b” and “c” apparently indicating the more important corner. It was purely utilitarian to avoid mistakes, acting as nothing but a reminder, because obviously producers should have known
where the head of the mould is. In theory, those removing the tiles from moulds
also knew where the head was, but a distinct mark obviously made things easier
and permied less mistakes in work that had to be more or less automatic. Aer
all, not all legionaries were presumably equally perceptive or practised.
Marks “d”, “e” and partly “” and “g” served other purposes. ese marks are
always shallower and the edges sharper than in the previously discussed categories. erefore, they had to be made at a stage when the clay had already dried
to some degree. It is evident that the degree of drying had to be tested selectively
and this meant “scratches” on the surface in different directions Loops, circles
and longer sections of straight lines served this purpose very well, because they
were easy to draw and they checked the quality of the surface in different directions. e same kinds of marks are used even today when checking surface
quality. is theory explains not only the selective occurrence of the marks, but
also why mark “” is present only on bricks and rooiles. In the case of the laer
two elements, the positioning of the mould was of no significance and it was
easier to check the dryness of the surface by pulling fingers along a diagonal.
Besides, in the case of floor tiles, the end effect was ornamental, even if originally not consciously intended as such. is idea may be supported by the fact
that the loop motif (variant “d”) can be observed on some of the bigger elements,
most frequently bricks.⁴³ It also becomes clear why lengthwise lines can be seen
on some of the imbrices. e same testing method was in use and it was easier
(and not purposeful) to use any other mark on a small and curved surface. Marks
on imbrices have received lile scholarly aention to date and have rarely been
published, mainly due to the size of imbrices and their relative infrequency among
⁴³ Dečev 1936, 12, fig. 9; 13, fig. 11; 16, fig. 21.
116
 
the finds, which also brings down statistically the number of specimens bearing
finger impressions. e marks in question are found on all types of building ceramics, including ceramic pipes which bear lengthwise lines. But in the case of
pipes there are even less parallels than in the case of the imbrices, this being due
to the different moulding technique. e inner mould could be removed only aer
the pipe had dried completely, and then the state of the clay was evident to the
naked eye.
is preliminary study of marks on the surface of building ceramics discovered
in Sector IV of the excavations at Novae certainly demonstrates the usefulness
of this underestimated or too one-sidedly interpreted archaeological material.
Whatever the case may be, all of the marked building elements described here
fall well into the brachylogical category of thinking: I was here! I, the legionary,
have le a shoe impression and technical marks. My unit, which was here, has
le stamps and the animals, which accompanied the unit, have also le their paw
and hoof marks.
Bibliography:
Biernacki A.B., 1976, Abdruck eines Schuhsohle auf der keramischen Plae aus Novae, Areologia
27, 133–136.
Biernacki A.B., 1979, Odcisk podeszwy buta na płycie ceramicznej, in Novae — Sektor Zaodni
1974. Wyniki badań wykopaliskowy ekspedycji areologicznej Uniwersytetu im. Adama Miiewicza, kierownictwo naukowe i redakcja S. Parnicki-Pudełko, Poznań, 53–59.
Branga V., 1980, Urbanismul Daciei romane, Timişoara.
Busch A. L., 1965, Die Römerzeitlichen Schuh- und Lederfunde der Kastelle Saalburg, Zugmantel
und Kleiner Feldberg, Saalburg Jahrbu 22, 158–210.
Chauffin J., 1965, Les tuilles gallo-romaines du Bas-Dauphiné, Gallia 14.1, 81–88.
Dečev D., 1936, Tuchli sa latinski pečati ot Madara, in Madara. Razkopki i Proučvanija, II, 11–20.
Dyczek P., 2008, Archaeological Excavations at Novae. A History of Research with Special Consideration of Sector IV (Legionary Baths, valetudinarium, Late Architecture), in Novae. Legionary
Fortress and Late Antique Town, I: A Companion to the Study of Novae, edited by T. Derda,
P. Dyczek, and J. Kolendo, with contributions by R. Ciołek et al., Warsaw, 31–70.
Dyczek P., 2008a, e Latest Selement in Novae, in Novae. Legionary Fortress and Late Antique
Town, I: A Companion to the Study of Novae, edited by T. Derda, P. Dyczek, and J. Kolendo, with
contributions by R. Ciołek et al., Warsaw, 235–246.
Dyczek P., 2008b, e Medieval Cemetery of Novae from Sector IV, in Przez granice czasu. Księga
pamiątkowa prof. J. Gąssowskiego, Pułtusk, 473–479 and 592–596.
Göpferich J., 1986, Römische Lederfunde aus Mainz, Saalburg Jahrbu 42, 5–67.
Groneman-van Waateringe W., 1967, Romaeins lederwerk uit Valkenburg, Z.H., Groningen.
Haalebos J.K., 1977, Zwammerdam — Nigrum Pilum, Amsterdam.
Kurtzmann R., 2006, Roman Military Tri Stamps: A Comparison of Methodology, Oxford (BAR IS).
Olczak J., 1975, Rejon forum (?) — odcinek X i XII, in Novae — Sektor Zaodni 1972. Wyniki badań
wykopaliskowy Ekspedycji Areologicznej Uniwersytetu im. Adama Miiewicza, kierownictwo naukowe i redakcja S. Parnicki-Pudełko, Poznań, 97–113.
Rajtar J., 1994, Waffen und Ausrüstungsteile aus dem Halle-Erde-Lager von Iža, Journal of Roman
Military Equipment Studies 5, 83–85.
Robertson A.S., Sco M., Keppie L., 1975, Bar Hill: A Roman Fort and its Finds, Oxfort (British
Archaeological Reports 16).
Sarnowski T., 1983, Die Ziegelstempel aus Novae. I. Systematyk und Typologie, Areologia 34,
17–61.
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Simon J., 2004, e Excavations at Dura Europos Conducted by Yale University and the Fren Academy
of Inscriptions and Leers 1928–1937. Final Report VII. e Arms and Armour and other Military
Equipment, London.
Spitzlberger G., 1968, Die römischen Ziegelstempel im nördlichen Teil der Provinz Raetien, Saalburg
Jahrbu 25, 65–184.
Van Driel-Murray C., 1999, Dead Men’s Shoes, in Rom, Germanien und die Ausgrabungen von
Kalkriese. Internationaler Kongress der Universität Osnabrü und des Landsasverbandes Osnabrüer Land e.V. vom 2. bis 5. September 1996, W. Schlüter und R. Wiegels (Hg.), Osnabrück,
169–189 (Kulturregion Osnabrück 10).
Van Driel-Murray C., 2001, Regarding the Stars, in TRAC 2000. Proceedings of the Tenth Annual
eoretical Roman Araeology Conference Held at the Institute of Araeology, University College
London, 6ʰ–7ʰ April 2000, edited by G. Davies, A. Gardner and K. Lockyear, Oxford, 96–103.
Van Driel-Murray C., 2001, Footwear in the North-Western Provinces of the Roman Empire, in Stepping through Time. Araeological Footwear from Prehistoric Times until 1800, [by] O. Goubitz,
C. van Driel-Murray, W. Groenman-van Waateringe, Zwolle, 337–376.
Van Driel-Murray C., Bechter M., 1984, Funde aus der fabrica der legio I Minervia am Bonner Berg,
Beiträge zur Aräologie der römisen Rheinlands 4, Rheinise Ausgrabungen 23, 9–83.
Warry P., 2006, Tegulae. Manufacture, Typology and Use in Roman Britain, Oxford (BAR British
Series 417).
Zahariade M., Dvorski T., 1997, e Lower Moesian Army in Northern Wallaia (A.D. 101–118), 1997.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE POLITICAL IDEAS OF MARCUS AURELIUS
M D
E
mperor Caesar Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus, of Annii Veri family,¹ who reigned from March 7, 161, to March 17, 180 AD, received thorough education in rhetoric and philosophy. He had a talent for philosophy but, encumbered with imperial, military, and administrative duties, he was
prevented from developing it into a more original, systemic form. It is content
and intensity, his thought, whether in its metaphysical-ethical dimension or in
political ideology, belonged in the philosophy of Stoicism, a dominating school,
along with Cynicism, in the early Roman Empire.² is is discernible in his choice
of his philosophical life, which was grounded in a morality first Cynic, and then,
to the end of his days, Stoic, as it is in his political thinking based on the idea
of world-state, side by side with the traditional theory of city-state. A desire to
lead a Cynic life was instilled in him, it seems, by the Greek painter Diognetos of
Sinope when he was 12,³ and his switch to Stoicism was first inspired by Apollonius of Chalcedon when he was fourteen, then by Claudius Maximus, and finally
by intus Iunius Rusticus, who persuaded Marcus to pursue philosophy in 145,
when Caesar was 24 years old.
At that point, Marcus le Cornelius Fronto, his rhetoric teacher with whom
he had studied from ca. 138/139. e teacher was dismayed at this, convinced that
the future Augustus did not need “effeminate”, intangible philosophy, but only
the art of rhetoric, declamation, which meets current needs, speaks a constructive and normative language, and is of great benefit for an emperor to use in
peacetime vis-à-vis the senate and the people, as it is in war to inspire soldiers
to show courage and endurance in combat. Displeased at his disciple’s change of
heart, Fronto urged, Suppose, Caesar, that you can aain to the wisdom of Cleanthes and Zeno, yet, against your will, you must put on the purple imperial cloak,
¹ Marcus Annius Verus was born on Apr. 26, 121, in Rome to Marcus Annius Verus and Domitia
Lucilla II. As a child, he bore the name Catilius Severus aer his maternal great grandfather. Aer
being adopted by Antoninus Pius (Titus Aelius Aurelius Antoninus Pius) in 138, he was called
Marcus Aelius Aurelius Verus Caesar. For the life and reign of Marcus Aurelius, see: Birley 1993;
DPhA, IV, M 39, 269–281. See also my article in Polish: Dzielska 2010, 81–93.
² See: Asmis 1989, 2228–2252; André 1982, 3–73.
³ M. Aur., Med., 1.6; SHA, Marc., 2.2; 6.
119
120
 
not the philosopher’s woolen cape.⁴ He added, Philosophy will tell you what to say,
Eloquence how to say it.⁵ Still indignant in 162, when Marcus Aurelius was already
emperor, he remonstrated,
In the manner of the young and from a dislike of drudgery, you seem to have deserted
the pursuit of eloquence, and to have turned aside aer philosophy, in which there is
no exordium to be carefully elaborated, no marshalling of facts concisely and clearly
and skilfully, no dividing of a subject into heads, no arguments to be hunted for, no
amplification… .⁶
While a student with Fronto, and with Herodes Aikus, who taught him Greek
pronunciations, and later when emperor, Marcus also listened to philosophers of
other schools like Alexander the Platonist and Claudius Severus, an Aristotelian,
but when he got hold of some writings by Aristo of Chios, a third-century BC
Stoic,⁷ student of Zeno of Citium, the founder of Stoicism, he rejected Plautus
and Cicero, and Fronto had lost a disciple for good.
Aristo, P. Grimal argues, showed him the fundamental quality in a philosopher as ethical activity, exercise in the study of morality, rather than dialectics or
physics.⁸ e above-mentioned Stoic Apollonius from Chalcedon, whose school
Marcus aended as he studied with Fronto, also taught him to improve his ethical
virtues, above all the virtue of apatheia⁹ also called ataraxia¹⁰ — an ability always
to maintain an undisturbed state of mind regardless of circumstances or external
developments.¹¹ He drew similar instruction from the Stoic Cinna Catullus, who
demonstrated with his own example the need to show love to friends, teachers,
and children, while from Sextus of Chaeronea he learned the meaning of living
according to Nature.¹² ere were others, too, whose sole names have survived:
Baccheius, Tandasis, and Marcianus. As it had been by Aristo’s writings, so was
Marcus’ conscience and moral sense rocked by Discourses of Epictetus, presented
to him by Rusticus.¹³ is entire gamut Pleiad of teachers introduced Marcus to
his contemporary and traditional Stoic philosophy and Stoic theory of politics,
at that time united with the ideas of Cynic moral philosophy, particularly with
cosmopolitan ideas. It was so because, as already D.R. Dudley demonstrated,¹⁴
⁴ Front., De eloqu., 1.11.
⁵ Front., De eloqu., 1.18.
⁶ Front., De eloqu., 3.4.
⁷ Sometimes identified with jurist Titius Aristo: Birley 1993, 94. See: DPhA, I, A 397, 400–403.
⁸ Grimal 1991, 67–70.
⁹ M. Aur., Med., 1.9; 11.18.10.
¹⁰ M. Aur., Med., 9.31.
¹¹ M. Aur., Med., 1.8.
¹² M. Aur., Med., 1.9.
¹³ M. Aur., Med., 1.7.
¹⁴ Dudley 1941, 143–148. For philosophical schools in the early Roman Empire, see: Trapp 2007.
On philosophy of Stoicism, see: Rist 1969; Reydams-Schils 2005.
     
121
exponents of both schools not only agreed on several points in their doctrines
and jointly operated as teachers of morality, but they also either made up antimonarchic opposition against emperors exercising tyrannical rule in the first
century BC,¹⁵ or supported the social and cultural policies of Flavian emperors,
and particularly of the Antonines, underpinning the Roman Empire’s universalist
tendencies with an ideology of the world-state.
Without going to lengths about cosmo-ontological issues in Marcus Aurelius’
philosophy I wish to look at his Stoico-Cynic vision of the world and his concept
of human nature through the lens of political categories and notions. Scholarship
has universally adopted the opinion that the doctrine of the cosmic city, so close
to Marcus’ heart, is in reality depoliticized in nature; it is a utopian, ethical vision
only describable in the language of political discourse.¹⁶ But in the contrary all
what I am trying to do in my article is to show that with Marcus Aurelius we are
looking at a richer concept — and not only visionary, but also concrete — a concept of the state. Marcus, Roman emperor, statesman, legislator,¹⁷ a strong man,
a talented, courageous strategist and general of the army, fighting prolonged, extremely bloody bales and wars, so much so that a single day’s combat could cost
the lives of 20.000 legionnaires, contemplated the stoic idea of the state not just
through an utopian lens; he refused to stop at dreaming about a “city of sages”
or “Dear City of Cecrops”, but rather harbored a dual notion of state and country
(or fatherland).¹⁸
Marcus’ o-quoted maxim: m y c i t y a n d f a t h e r l a n d, a s A n t on i n u s, i s R o m e; a s a m a n, t h e w o r l d (polis kai patris hos men Antonino moi he Rome, hos de anthropo, ho kosmos) complete with the words: e
things then that are of advantage to these communities (poleis), these, and no
other, are good for me¹⁹ calls for deeper exegesis as it encapsulates the emperor’s central state-building idea. It says that the term “state” comprises not only the world-state (kosmos or kosmopolis; koine polis;²⁰ or megalopolis),²¹ but also a city-state, a particular-state (polis), at once the worldly-fatherland and the
particular-fatherland. e world-state, or the universe, is a place where gods,
men, and all substances coexist in unity, whereas particular-states, all other states
(hai loipai poleis) are, as Marcus puts it, as households in this “highest state”.²²
Like R o m e, they are parts of the Whole (to holon). Every man’s fatherland
¹⁵
¹⁶
¹⁷
¹⁸
¹⁹
²⁰
²¹
²²
Dudley 1941, 125–141; also Trapp 2007, 226–230. More general: Laurand 2005, 185.
E.g., Schofield 1991, for Zeno’s Republic and Chrysippus’s views; Giliberti Pesaro 2002.
See: Noyen1954, 349–371.
Cf. my previous article under the name Józefowicz 1971, 241–254; Giliberti 2010, 95–111.
M. Aur., Med., 6.44.
M. Aur., Med., 4.4.
M. Aur., Med., 12.36.
M. Aur., Med., 3.11.
122
 
is the world-state (kosmopolis), but in addition, every man has his own, particular fatherland (patris), like R o m e, with which he is associated by virtue of
birth and any legal, family, physical, and emotional relations. e broader and
the narrower senses of s t a t e and f a t h e r l a n d have impact on the concept of a dual placement of a man in the world: as a citizen of the world-state,
he is c o s m o p o l i t a n (polites tou kosmou);²³ as a member of the city-state,
he is a citizen of his particular state (polites) and at the same time a p a t r i o t
(patriotes) of his small fatherland which is a fraction of the world’s body.
As we can see, in his definition of the vast and oldest world-state (kosmos),
Marcus uses terms borrowed from the Greek and Roman political nomenclature
applicable to a city-state, i.e., a polis and politeia,²⁴ politeuma,²⁵ with added qualifiers to convey its vastness and its special, predominantly philosophical nature.
Aer all, he maintains,
If the intellectual capacity is common to us all, common is the reason, which makes
us rational creatures. If so, that reason also is common which tells us to do or not to
do. If so, law also is common. If so, we are c i t i z e n s (politai esmen). If so, we are
fellow-members of an organized community (politeuma). If so, the Universe is as it
were a state (ho kosmos polis esti) — for of what other single polity can the whole race
of mankind be said to be fellow-members?²⁶
Still, it seems to me that Marcus Aurelius uses these names for the dear city
of Zeus,²⁷ in which people as rational and social creatures²⁸ make up a fellowship of all men (koinonia²⁹), which is solely based, as already demonstrated by
A. Bodson,³⁰ on rules of social morality, because such traditional notions as state,
fatherland, the Roman people had not become trite for him; he did not consider
himself a mere man, just a citizen of the universe. He uses political language
as he writes about the aretypal city and polity³¹ of which all men are organic
members,³² completely bound up together, like so many branches in one tree,
created by no less than divine Nature,³³ because he does not regard it simply
as an object of adoration, but observes it from within, complete with the acute
problems of his city-state Rome, from the point of view of emperor shouldering
²³
²⁴
²⁵
²⁶
²⁷
²⁸
²⁹
³⁰
³¹
³²
³³
M. Aur., Med., 4.4.
M. Aur., Med., 2.16.
M. Aur., Med., 11.8.
M. Aur., Med., 4.4.
M. Aur., Med., 4.23.
M. Aur., Med., 5.29.
M. Aur., Med., 11.8.
Bodson 1967, 67–71.
M. Aur., Med., 2.16.
M. Aur., Med., 7.13.
M. Aur., Med., 7.13; 11.8.
     
123
the burden of governing his small fatherland. Hence in his theoretical speculations about a perfect world-state and brotherhood of mankind can be seen some
form of withdrawal from politics (as otium), but never a desire to refuse political
responsibilities.³⁴
Moreover, I follow here and reinforce G.R. Stanton³⁵ in believing that Marcus,
just as he declared in his political creed, always placed first his city and fatherland
Rome, his imperial office of a successor and heir of Antoninus Pius, his role model of a pragmatic politician and an ideal ruler, whereas his human obligations
within the cosmic state (koine polis)³⁶ only came second. Yet he emphasizes, as
quoted above, that the task set for a man is to serve both states, one the particular
fatherland, the other the largest (megale polis),³⁷ which is the shared fatherland
of all people. Aer all, the rules of cosmopolitan ethics also apply in this polis
which is “as a household” in the grand kosmopolis. is is c o s m o p o l i t a n
h u m a n i s m, or simply, Marcus argues, an aitude of love³⁸ and kindness toward people, social involvement, fulfillment of duty with full devotion to one’s
work. From this ethically exemplary state in which belong dwellings of gods and
men, planets and stars, land and sea, in which every man lives for another, and
in their mutual relations its citizens are guided by beneficiency and selflessness
toward each other³⁹ — from this state the inhabitants of a particular state are
to learn social morality. Similarly, the only law for members of the world-state
to cite, the law of Nature itself,⁴⁰ should reign supreme in a particular state, additionally enhanced by injunctions of the fatherland’s laws. It is a law that can
be exercised by anyone because by the logic of the cosmos it is ingrained in the
human mind:
For there is both one Universe, made up of all things, and one God immanent in
all things, and one Substance, and one L a w, one Reason common to all intelligent
creatures, and one Truth: if indeed there is also one perfecting of living creatures that
have the same origin and share the same reason.⁴¹
On the other hand, obedience to man-made laws, to the positive laws of the
city-state, is a main element of patriotism for Marcus Aurelius. He therefore
urges: R e m e m b e r … w h a t d o e s n o t h a r m l a w, t h e n, d o e s n o t
³⁴
³⁵
³⁶
³⁷
³⁸
³⁹
⁴⁰
⁴¹
Cf. M. Aur., Med., 3.5.
Stanton 1969, 570–587; see also of Stanton 1968, 184–195; Laurant 2010, 61–79.
M. Aur., Med., 4.4.
M. Aur., Med., 12.29.
M. Aur., Med., 7.31.
M. Aur., Med., 10.6.
M. Aur., Med., 10.25.
M. Aur., Med., 7.9.
124
 
h a r m t o c i t i z e n o r c i t y (oute polin oute politen).⁴² It is inherent in the
notion of patriotism to understand the interests of one’s state and to refrain from
doing harm to it:
at which is not hurtful to the community (polis) cannot hurt the individual (polites).
Test every case of apparent hurt by this rule: if the community (polis) be not hurt by
this, neither am I hurt.
A patriot of the polis meets his civic responsibilities with supreme devotion, exactitude, love, and sense of justice:
Every hour make up thy mind sturdily as a Roman and a man to do what thou hast in
hand with scrupulous and unaffected dignity and love of thy kind and independence
and justice.⁴³
A citizen of the polis steadfastly pursues political activity, and derives joy from
it:
e life flow smoothly of a citizen who goes steadily on in a course of action beneficial
to his fellow-citizens and cheerfully accepts whatever is assigned him by the state
(polis).⁴⁴
He who shirks the obligation to serve his state and community is like a limb cut off
from the community,⁴⁵ since rational existence of a man in what I like to call “cosmic milieu”, whose “corner”, or “part” (meros),⁴⁶ or “household” is the city-state
is also political existence: Now the rational is indisputably also the civic (logikon
kai politikon).⁴⁷ Marcus keeps reminding himself of his state responsibilities and
rebukes himself when he feels discouraged from performing his daily, mundane,
unrewarding duties: Let no one hear thee any more grumbling at life in a Court,
nay let not thine own ears hear thee,⁴⁸ for aer all to a Roman, and a powerful
ruler at that, the life is in a Court.⁴⁹
Based on the sample views quoted above, we can see that Marcus, enthralled
by the idea of a cosmic world-state and world-fatherland which embraces the
whole mankind (to ton anthropon pan genos),⁵⁰ retained a feeling of lively warmth
⁴²
⁴³
⁴⁴
⁴⁵
⁴⁶
⁴⁷
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
⁵⁰
M. Aur., Med., 10.33.
M. Aur., Med., 2.5.
M. Aur., Med., 10.6.
M. Aur., Med., 4.29.
M. Aur., Med., 10.6.
M. Aur., Med., 10.2.
M. Aur., Med., 8.9.
M. Aur., Med., 5.16.
M. Aur., Med., 4.4.
     
125
for the Roman city-state and the Roman patris also under the empire, and remained focused on the city of Rome with its political traditions, symbols, and
temples. Aer all, to him, paragons of patriotism were, obviously in addition
to his adoptive Father, defenders of the republic, adherents to Stoicism: Cato of
Utica, Marcus Junius Brutus, Stoic philosophers-martyrs: rasea Petus, put to
death by Nero; Helvidius Priscus, banished and put to death by Vespasian; Dion
of Prusa-Cynic, a philosopher and theoretician of monarchy, banished by Domitian.⁵¹ By his own admission, he liked reading historians describing the Acts of
the Romans and the Greeks of Old Time and complained about not having enough
time to reimmerse himself in such writings. Equal praise of exalted devotion in
the service to the city-state, even unto death for the fatherland, is found in other
Stoic and Cynic philosophers of the early Roman Empire (Seneca, Epictetus, Dion
Chrysostomos), who also pursue cosmocentric inquiry into the world-state, but
at the same time subscribe to the dual concept of the state which Marcus Aurelius
so forcefully promotes. Suffice it to mention the words of Seneca in Ad Serenum
de Otio,
Let us grasp the idea that there are two commonwealths (duae res publicae) — the
one, a vast and truly common state, which embraces alike gods and men, in which
we look neither to this corner of earth nor to that, but measure the bounds of our
citizenship by the path of the sun; the other, the one to which we have been assigned
by the accident of birth. is will be the commonwealth of the Athenians or of the
Carthaginians, or of any other city that belongs, not to all, but to some particular race
of men.⁵²
I wish to add that, much as with a theory of the state, Marcus offers no coherent concept of the ideal of a monarchic ruler. However, from his thoughts about
and allusions to the nature of monarchic rule as found in his Meditations, we may
glean some of its elements which are based on a traditional belief, going back
to the fourth century BC and upheld by the Stoico-Cynic theory of monarchy,
that an ideal ruler is special among human beings by virtue of his unusual rank
(arete, virtus). But philosophers of the early Roman Empire like Dio Chrysostom,
Seneca, Epictetus, Musonius Rufus, and Marcus Aurelius with them give even
more emphasis to the relation between divine laws governing the cosmos and the
virtues (aretai) which constitute the ruler’s moral personality. Marcus repeatedly declares that he tries to live and rule according to the principles of the divine
cosmos, and as a philosopher ruler aims at monarchic perfection by continuous
exercise in aaining cardinal virtues: phronesis, sophrosyne, dikaiosyne, andreia.⁵³
⁵¹ M. Aur., Med., 1.14.
⁵² Sen., Otio, 4.31.1.
⁵³ M. Aur., Med., 5.12; 3.6.
126
 
He never tires of reiterating Plato’s famous dictum, Well was it for states, if either
philosophers were rulers or rulers philosophers.⁵⁴ Aware of his monarchical, exalted, providential role vis-à-vis his subjects, he considers himself as a ram over a
flo or a bull over a herd.⁵⁵ He knows that life guided by the wisdom and rational understanding of the nature of the cosmos gives shape to the ruler’s daily
existence. Intercourse with moral values makes him arduously seek to remain
antihedonistic as a man and a ruler. He is deeply convinced of the superiority of
simple, austere life over the glamour and splendour of the imperial court, over
desires for material goods and sensual delights.⁵⁶ anks to a practical exercise of
self-control (sophrosyne), he is sustained in his natural spontaneity and kindness,
is cheerful and possessed of the sweetness of disposition of a sage or a child.
Following a model of a good monarch, he reproves himself whenever he omits to
perform an action conducive to general welfare, since good is essentially a useful
thing, and ever to be cultivated by the true good man (kalos kai agathos aner).⁵⁷
Giving affection to others, love of humankind, and selfless charity are truly
royal qualities (basilikon men eu praein, kakos de akouein).⁵⁸ e ruler’s conduct
must fully measure up to social ethics as postulated in the world-state and as
grounded in the virtue of philanthropia, humanitas. By sharing his goodness and
love with people, as a humanus ruler, he shows gentleness even to those who
have angered or offended him.⁵⁹ All may partake of his ethical wealth.⁶⁰ Seen in
moral terms, the authority of a good ruler is the antithesis of despotism, whose
central quality is the ruler’s selfishness, leading him to lawlessness and repression
in governance. Bearing in mind tyrants similar “to wild beasts” like Phalaris and
Nero, Marcus warns himself: See thou be not Caesarified, nor take that dye, for
there is the possibility.⁶¹ Monarchy is to him a form of government whi prizes
above all things the liberty of the subject,⁶² while tyranny is a transgression (kakia)
against the gods and wickedness toward mankind. Marcus readily repeats aer
other philosophers that tyranny is a “plague”, a disease which takes hold of the
ruler’s soul, leads him to self-destruction, and relegates him to moral disorder. He
thanks Fronto for bringing it home to him what a heinous crime of power tyranny is: to note the envy, the subtlety, and the dissimulation whi are habitual to a
tyrant.⁶³ erefore, Marcus is very careful about not allowing the courtly lifestyle
⁵⁴
⁵⁵
⁵⁶
⁵⁷
⁵⁸
⁵⁹
⁶⁰
⁶¹
⁶²
⁶³
M. Aur., Med., 9.29; SHA, M. Aur., 27.7.
M. Aur., Med., 11.18.
M. Aur., Med., 1.7; 16; 17.
M. Aur., Med., 8.10.
M. Aur., Med., 7.36.
M. Aur., Med., 1.7.
M. Aur., Med., 1.13.
M. Aur., Med., 6.30; 3.16.
M. Aur., Med., 1.14.
M. Aur., Med., 1.11.
     
127
to make him give up his struggle for moral superiority, to slip into hedonism, to
surrender to sensual desires. Our ideal king in Meditations wishes to be a moral
paragon, the emperor not just by title but by the deepest conviction; he desires
to reconcile the interests of Rome with the aims of all humanity, according to
Nature. Heracles-like, the ideal Cynic king fights a lonely, arduous struggle at
once for his own moral perfection and for the well-being of his subjects, who can
only aain inner virtues and enjoy peace and prosperity through good monarchic
governance.⁶⁴
At the same time, however, Marcus is doubt-ridden about the possibility of
human perfection, of progress toward human altruism and brotherhood as dictated by the rational principles of the divinely ordered world-state. Despite his
declarations when posing as an ideal king, he repeats, Dream not of Plato‘s politeia, but be content if the least thing go forward.⁶⁵ He knows that he himself is
helping destroy that dream by serving the particular city-state and its interests.
All too oen contrary to the law of Nature, to what is human and morally valuable, he fights bloody, cruel wars with the Parthians and with barbarian tribes
whom he calls brigands;⁶⁶ dely counters Avidius Cassius’ plot against him and
uses it to further his dynastic policy; designates as his successor his intellectually narrow and morally degenerate son Commodus, contrary to the Antonines’
accepted rule of adopting the best statesman; takes part in political intrigue; persecutes Christians and despises them⁶⁷ and, contrary to Epictetus’ advice, holds
slaves in disregard and contempt,⁶⁸ supporting only his own class etc.⁶⁹
To conclude, a question begs to be asked whether service to the state to which
Marcus had been assigned by the accident of birth, and by adoption into the dynasty of the Antonines, did not compel him to erect a barrier between cognition
and action, between soul and cosmic structures, between a subject and the world.
Could this lack of coherence underlying his life not cause a tear in his soul, not
strip him of a positive sense, not result in dismay in a hero who, as he built his
own self, found that his mode of existence as a Roman and a ruler turned to ashes
in the face of the only true reality? His inspiring book is largely a record of failure,
of loss of his delusions of the soul: the transcendent City of Zeus, or kosmopolis,
⁶⁴ Dio Chrys., Or., 1.64–84. On the Cynic ideal of a king, cf. Höistad 1948; on the Heracles myth:
22–103.
⁶⁵ M. Aur., Med., 9.29.
⁶⁶ M. Aur., Med., 10.10.
⁶⁷ M. Aur., Med., 11.3; for more on Christians, see: 1.6; 3.16; 6.16; 7.68; 8.48.
⁶⁸ M. Aur., Med., 11.30.
⁶⁹ Birley 1993, 224, only blames Marcus for the unfortunate choice of Commodus. Other than
this, he believes him a perfect emperor. Hadot 2004, 287ff. sees in him as a politician impeccably
implementing Stoic ethical purposes. Highly critical of Marcus as emperor draped as philosopher
is Stanton 1969, 580–587; Asmis 1989, 2230.
128
 
loses to the requirements of the city-state, or polis, in which reign supreme the
powers of concrete, real, all too oen murky and brutal politics.
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premiers siècles de notre ère, in Aufstieg und Niedergang des Römisen Welt II.30.1, 3–73.
Asmis E., 1989, e Stoicism of Marcus Aurelius, in Aufstieg und Niedergang des Römisen Welt
II.36.3, 2228–2252.
Birley A., 1993, Marcus Aurelius, London.
Bodson A., 1967, La Morale sociale des derniers stoiciens, Sénèque, Epictète et Marc-Aurèle, Liège –
Paris.
Dudley D.R., 1941, A History of Cynicism, from Diogenes to the 6ʰ Century A.D., London.
Dzielska M., 2010, Idee polityczne Marka Aureliusza, in Teoria i praktyka polityczna Marka Aureliusza, redakcja K. Marulewska, Warszawa, 81–93.
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Giliberti G., 2010, Idea cesarstwa i stoickiego kosmopolis w Rozmyślania Marka Aureliusza, in
Teoria i praktyka polityczna Marka Aureliusza, redakcja K. Marulewska, Warszawa, 95–111.
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Laurand V., 2005, La Politique stoїcienne, Paris
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redakcja K. Marulewska, Warszawa, 61–79.
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des Droits de l’Antiquité ser. 3ᵉ 1, 349–371.
Reydams-Schils G., 2005, e Roman Stoics, Chicago.
Rist J.M., 1969, Stoic Philosophy, Cambridge.
Schofield M., 1991, e Stoic Idea of City, Cambridge.
Stanton G.R., 1968, e Cosmopolitan Ideas of Epictetus and Marcus Aurelius, Phronesis 13, 184–195.
Stanton G.R., 1969, Marcus Aurelius, Emperor and Philosopher, Historia 18.5, 570–587.
Trapp M., 2007, Philosophy in the Roman Empire. Ethics, Politics and Society, Aldershot.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
LUCRETIA, VIRGINIA AND SULPICIA
AS EXAMPLES OF A WOMAN PUDICA
A F  A G
S
everal authors, have provided the ancient story of Lucretia, a model wife,
who becomes an innocent victim of Tarquin’s lust.¹ Her story is a foundational part of a group of legendary tales about the development of Rome
in its early years.² Sextus Tarquinius, a son of the King of Rome and Collatinus,
during a campaign against Ardea (509 BC), were wagering, whose wife was the
most virtuous. Having come back to the city, they found Tarquin’s wife, drinking and entertaining friends, while Lucretia the Collatinus’ wife, was overseeing
wool work with her servants. Tarquin burned with desire for Collatinus’ wife,
but she would sooner die than suffer rape. Tarquin threatens her that if she does
not accede to his demands, he will kill her, and her slave, and will tell everyone,
that her virtue, has been lost in a manner, bringing, the greatest shame on her
family. Lucretia would sooner be raped than lose her good name. When Tarquin
has gone, she summons her father and husband, and tells them what happened.
en, she takes out a dagger, and kills herself:
She narrates what she can. e final part was le.
She sobbed, and her matronly cheeks flushed.
Father and husband pardon what she was forced to do.
“e pardon you give” she said, “I reject”.
No delay: she pierced her breast with hidden steel
And drops, gushing blood, at her father’s feet.
Even then, dying, she ensures her fall is seemly:
at was her anxiety as she dropped.³
e behaviour of Lucretia is a great example of what for Romans pudicitia
meant. How important was this virtue, emphasizes Livy, when he writes, that
unchaste women only deserve to die, like Lucretia died (nec ulla deinde inpudica
¹ Val. Max., 6.1.1, Ovid., Fasti, 2.721–852, Liv., 1.57–60.
² Langlands 2006, 80.
³ Ovid., Fasti, 2.815–834 (trans. by A.J. Boyle and R.D. Woodard).
129
130
   
Lucretiae exemplo vivet).⁴ It is important to know this story, as many of the later sources will be fully appreciated, only in the light of the traditional story of
Lucretia.⁵
e term pudicitia, is oen translated, as “chastity” and seems to be associated
particularly with women.⁶ Valerius Maximus under the rubric of pudicitia, which
could be translated, as “chastity”, or “sexual honour”, gives the Lucretia’s story:
e leader of Roman sexual honour is Lucretia, whose manly spirit by a perverse
twist of fate was alloed to a women’s body (Dux Romanae pudicitiae Lucretia,
cuius animus maligno errore fortunae muliebre corpus sortitus est).⁷ Not only does
Ovid describe Lucretia as pudica, but also as a animi matrona virilis (lady of manly spirit)⁸. Chastity of women (pudicitia) was undoubtedly a very important part
of Roman mores, so they should not wonder many personifications of virtues.
A number of virtues, relating to women, is really impressive. is shows clearly about archaic taboos, which surrounded the sexuality of women, especially
their fertility, which was oen identified with the fertility of the soil, moreover,
chastity, especially in terms of physical, was an important part of Roman propaganda. How much importance was aached to pudicitia, may perform Livy’s
words. Whilst describing the introduction of the cult of Pudicitia Plebeia, Livy
puts pudicitia on par with virtus in men (uosque hortor ut, quod certamen uirtutis uiros in hac ciuitate tenet, hoc pudicitiae inter matronas sit detisque operam
ut haec ara quam illa, si quid potest, sanctius et a castioribus coli dicatur).⁹ Livy,
describing the events of 296 years BC, mentions, that due to so many prodigies,
signs of disapproval of the gods, the senate decreted a two-day period of public
prayer to avert the troubles.¹⁰ During the celebration, the women initiated the
dispute, whilst Virginia the daughter of Aulus came to the sacellum of Pudicitia
Patricia. She was a patrician woman, who was married to a plebeian, the consul
Lucius Volumnius, and the matronae excluded her from the sacred rites on the
grounds of marring out of the patrician order. A short dispute, blazed from feminine argumentativeness, into a full-blown controversy. Other matrons did not
allow Virginia to exercise rituals, arguing that as the wife of plebeian, even the
consul, came from the state of patrician, and lost the right to participate in the
worship of Pudicitia Patricia. Virginia argued that she was both a patrician and
a pudica, married only once (uni nupta) to a man to whom she had been given as a
⁴
⁵
⁶
⁷
⁸
⁹
¹⁰
Liv., 1.58.10–11.
Langlands 2006, 84.
Edwards 2007, 187–191.
Val. Max., 6.1.1.
Ovid., Fasti, 2.847.
Liv., 10.23.7–8.
Liv., 10.23.1–10.
,   
131
virgin, and that she had absolutely no regrets about her husband either in terms of
his official positions or in terms of his aievements.
Virginia decided to establish a new cult of Pudicitia Plebeia, Plebeian Chastity.
She separated from her home, located at the vicus Longus, a space for a chapel,
set the altar, and called together plebeian matrons to make ​a dedication on their
behalf using the following formula:
I dedicate this altar to Plebeian Pudicitia, and I urge you that the rivalry for courage
that binds the men of this society should exist among woman for pudicitia, and you
may strive that, if possible, this altar shall be said to be more sacred than the first,
and to be cultivated by woman who are more chaste.¹¹
Next, Livy communicates, that worship of the new deity was established on
the paern of a worship of Patrician Pudicitia, and the right to sacrifice, was reserved only for women, once married, and known for their virtues (eodem ferme
ritu et haec ara quo illa antiquitor culta est, ut nulla nisi spectatae pudicitiae matrona et quae ubi viro nupta est fuisset ius sacrificandi haberet).¹² Unfortunately, in
laer days, women of all ranks, were allowed to worship Pudicitia Plebeia, and
the cult of the goddess finally was forgoen.
It is worth noting, that in fasti, there are no information about the celebrations
in honour of both Pudicitias, and the epithets indicate, that these cults were private, and corporate, especially in the first period of its functioning. is argument
is certainly right for the Plebeian Pudicitia, which received only an official cult
in the days of the first princeps, but cannot be applied, with reasonable certainty
to Pudicitia Patricia. In accordance with Robert E.A. Palmer’s comments, there
are indications, that the cult was established, as an atonement, aer aempting
to poison the patricians by their wives in 331 BC, and was under the tutelage of
Fabii Maximi. A representative of this family was one of the aediles curules.¹³
Robert Palmer says that the newly erected cult “was not a state observance,
but a corporate observance”.¹⁴ However, it seems that even if we acknowledge as
an appropriate association of the foundation of worship with these events, which
is not fully approved hypothesis, it would be more appropriate a recognition of
the cult as official. Interesting is the location of both places of worship. Pudicitia
Patricia was honoured in the Forum Boarium, near the Temple of Hercules and
near the Ara Maxima. Sources describe the place of worship as sacellum,¹⁵ and a
statue standing inside as a signum, or effigies.¹⁶ It seems that there was no special
¹¹
¹²
¹³
¹⁴
¹⁵
¹⁶
Liv., 10.23.7–8.
e meaning of pudica see Boëls-Janssen 1993, 229–232. See also Moore 1989, 122–124.
Liv., 8.18; Palmer 1974, 122–123.
Palmer 1974, 122.
Fest., 282; Liv., 10.23.3.
Fest., 282; Iuv., 6.309.
132
   
building but only locus sacratus.¹⁷ Behind this hypothesis, there is also the fact
that for Pudicitia Plebeia, whose cult was an exact copy of rites of ox-market, also
has not been founded separate place of worship, but only isolated, for her, a part
of a private home.
Almost at the same time, as the cult of Pudicitia Plebeia, the cult of other
goddess was founded. is cult could be related to the chastity of women, too. It
refers to the cult of Venus Obsequens. Founded in 295 BC, the temple of Venus
Obsequens, was the eldest of the Roman temples of goddess. It was founded during the ird Samnite War (298–290 BC). At the same year 295, there was a heavy
bale of Sentium with the Samnites. For the Romans, it was important to win
that decisive bale in the fate of Italy. According to Livy:
is year, so successful in the operations of war, was filled with distress at home,
arising from a pestilence, and with anxiety, occasioned by prodigies: for accounts
were received that, in many places, showers of earth had fallen; and that very many
persons, in the army of Appius Claudius, had been struck by lightning; in consequence of which, the books were consulted. At this time, intus Fabius Gurges,
the consul’s son, having prosecuted some matrons before the people on a charge of
adultery, built, with the money accruing from the fines which they were condemned
to pay, the temple of Venus, which stands near the circus.¹⁸
Livy, describing the temple, built by Fabius, did not tell us that the name of goddess was Obsequens, and only a passage from Servius’ Commentary on the Vergil’s
Aeneid allows us to combine the description with Venus Obsequens.¹⁹ Servius
wrote, indeed, about Venus Obsequens, which has proven her grace to Fabius
Gurges during the war with Samnites. e goddess’ name Obsequens can be explained in two ways. Perhaps, she was associated with morality of matrons, like
later, Venus Verticordia, but she could owe her name to the goodwill, which was
proven to Fabius, during the war with Samnites. e cult of Venus Obsequens
was known not only in Rome. e epigraphical sources aest this cult in other
areas of Lazio namely Tivoli and Terracina.²⁰
Caring for the preservation of Roman women’s chastity, has certainly been
the reason, for founding the cult of Venus Verticordia.²¹ Ovid in the Fasti relates
that in ancient times when Rome lost its morals, the temple was built in response
¹⁷ Mikocki 1997, 198.
¹⁸ Liv., 10.31.
¹⁹ Serv., 1.720.
²⁰ Tivoli: CIL, XIV, 3569; inscriptions from Terracina see Coarelli 1987, 122.
²¹ Venus Verticordia see Schilling 1954, 226–233 and 388–395; Floratos 1960, 197–216; Champeaux
1982, 378–395; Sabbatucci 1988, 120–121; Boëls-Janssen 1993, 321–335; Magini 1996, 15–19; Staples
1998, 99–113.
,   
133
to the Sibylline books.²² e temple was dedicated to Venus and goddess henceforth named “Heart-Changer” (Venus verso nomina corde tenet). A play on words,
in this verse, indicates, that the poet was referring to Venus Verticordia, giving
an explanation of its meaning and circumstances of the founding of the cult. e
ancient authors gave two applications relating to the founding Verticordia’s worship in Rome.e first of these is associated with the goddess’ statue in late 3ʳᵈ or
early 2ⁿᵈ century BC.²³ e statue should have receded thoughts of women, both
virgins and married women, from lust (libido) and return them to the chastity
(pudicitia). e privilege of founding a statue of the goddess received Sulpicia:
To the commemoration of men deserves to be added tale of Sulpicia (daughter of
Servius Paterculus and wife of Q. Fulvius Flaccus). When the senate had decreed,
aer the Sibylline books had been consulted by the decemviri, that a statue of Venus
Verticordia should be consecrated so that the minds of virgins and of women should
more easily be turned away from lust towards pudicitia, from all the woman a hundred were chosen, and from the hundred ten picked by lot to make a judgement about
who was the most morally pure (sanctissima) of woman; she outshone all in chastity.²⁴
However, the sources are not clear, what Sulpicia really had to do, to deserve to
be called, the most virtuous woman (pudicissima femina).
e temple of Venus Verticordia was dedicated about one hundred years aer
the statue of the goddess in 114 BC. According to Plutarch:
For the tale is told that a certain maiden, Helvia, was struck by lightning while she
was riding on horseback, and her horse was found lying stripped of its trappings; and
she herself was naked, for her tunic had been pulled far up as if purposely; and her
shoes, her rings, and her head-dress were scaered apart here and there, and her open
mouth allowed the tongue to protrude. e soothsayers declared that it was a terrible
disgrace for the Vestal Virgins, that it would be bruited far and wide, and that some
wanton outrage would be found touching the knights also […] three Vestal Virgins,
Aemilia, Licinia, and Marcia, that they had all been corrupted at about the same time,
and that they had long entertained lover.²⁵
Soothsayers decided that it was a very dangerous prodigium associated with
breaking vows of chastity by three Vestal Virgins. In the face of such a danger,
they consulted the Sibylline books:
²²
²³
²⁴
²⁵
Ovid., Fasti, 4.133–162.
Plin., NH, 7.35 and Val. Max., 8.15.12.
Val. Max., 8.15.12.
Plut., est. Rom., 83.
134
   
ey say that oracles were found foretelling that these events would come to pass for
the bane of the Romans, and enjoining on them that, to avert the impending disaster,
they should offer as a sacrifice to certain strange and alien spirits two Greeks and two
Gauls, buried alive on the spot.²⁶
In the opinion of ancient authors, establishing the worship of Verticordia,
was associated with the preservation of women’s chastity (pudicitia). However,
breaking vows of chastity by the Vestal Virgins was regarded by the Romans as
a precursor of a serious threat, and certainly as a maer more important than
immoral behaviour of matrons. Vestal Virgins’ role in Rome cannot be, in fact,
overstated. John Scheid said that without them Rome would not have been able
to play its historical role.²⁷ Vestals represented life and death, stability and chaos
of Rome.²⁸
Power of Venus, aer the establishing of Verticordia’s cult, was directed toward pudicitia, changing hearts of the women stricken with passion so that they
can once again become a model of an ideal matron. e dedication of the temple
probably even strengthened the power of Verticordia, in these, so difficult for the
Romans, times.
As mentioned above, the term pudicitia, seems to be closely associated with
women. Moreover, pudicitia in women, is the characteristic quality which corresponds to virtus in men. Both discussed cults of Pudicitia and Venus, as well as
examples of Lucretia, Virginia and Sulpicia, seem to confirm the close relationship
between the term pudicitia and women. Did not the ancients really use the term
pudicitia, in relation to men, leaving them only the term virtus?
Although pudicitia is directly contrasted with libido, it must be interpreted as
a moral force rather than purely as a physical state.²⁹ As sources indicate, the term
pudicitia had much wider significance, and was used, both for women, and men.
Valerius Maximus, explaining the term pudicitia, not only mentioned the story
of Lucretia. It was only one of the several stories that the author cited, to explain
this term, six of them, concerned the men. Most Valerius’ stories involve the use
of violence to defend or avenge pudicitia.³⁰ e woman was the one, who had to
demonstrate the value of its pudicitia, mostly offering her life. So, it seems very
accurate the following Hans Friedrich Mueller’s statement: “Pudicitia may be an
equal support to men and woman, but the requirements and consequences, we
must note, are unequal indeed. Only free men violate the pudicitia of others, while
only free-born females (ingenuae) and free-born boys (ingenui) have pudicitia that
²⁶
²⁷
²⁸
²⁹
³⁰
Plut., est. Rom., 83; see also Cass. Dio, 26.87.
Scheid 2000, 74.
Staples 1998, 135.
Langlands 2006, 59.
Edwards 2007, 188.
,   
135
can be violated. Pudicitia is thus revealed to reside in free-born females and boys
in a fashion analogous to the manner in which it resides on Vesta’s hearth, on
Juno’s puluinaria, and on Julia’s bed”.³¹
Bibliography:
Boëls-Janssen N., 1993, La Vie religieuse des matrones dans la Rome araïque, Rome.
Champeaux J., 1982, Fortuna. Reeres sur le culte de la Fortune à Rome et dans le monde romain.
Des origines à la mort de César, I: Fortuna dans la religion araïque, Rome.
Coarelli F., 1987, I santuari del Lazio in età republicana, Roma.
Edwards C., 2007, Death in Ancient Rome, New Haven – London.
Floratos Ch., 1960, Veneralia, Hermes 88, 197–216.
Langlands R., 2006, Sexual Morality in Ancient Rome, Cambridge.
Magini L., 1996, Le Feste di Venere. Fertilità feminale e configurazioni astrali nell calendario di Roma
antica, Roma.
Mikocki T., 1997, Zgodna, pobożna, płodna, skromna, piękna… Propaganda cnót żeński w sztuce
rzymskiej, Wrocław.
Moore T.J., 1989, Artistry and Ideology: Livy’s Vocabulary of Virtue, Frankfurt am Main.
Mueller H.F., 1996, Vita, Pudicitia, Libertas: Juno, Gender and Religious Politics in Valerius Maximus, Transactions of the American Philological Association 128, 221–263.
Palmer R.E.A, 1974, Roman Shrines of Female Chastity from the Caste Struggle to the Papacy of
Innocent I, Rivista Storica dell’Antiità 4, 113–159.
Sabbatucci D., 1988, La religione di Roma antica, dal calendario festivo all’ordine cosmico, Milano.
Scheid J., 2000, Kapłan, in Człowiek Rzymu, pod redakcją A. Giardina, Warszawa, 69–104.
Schilling R., 1954, La Religion romaine de Vénus depuis les origines jusqu’au temps d’Auguste, Paris.
Staples A., 1998, From Good Goddess to Vestal Virgins. Sex and Category in Roman Religion, London
– New York.
³¹ Mueller 1998, 226.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
SEPULCHRI VIOLATIO ET LES AMENDES SÉPULCRALES
DANS LES INSCRIPTIONS ANTIQUES*
J I
L
es inscriptions antiques laissent supposer que l’habitude qui s’observera
en Italie de protéger les constructions sépulcrales par voie pénale se propagea dans la 1ᵉ moitié du IIᵉ siècle de notre ère. Il va sans dire qu’une
telle opinion ne doit pas entraîner une autre que les délinquants ne furent pas
antérieurement saisis en vertu de la loi sépulcrale. Dans une longue argumentation sur les mœurs sépulcrales romaines et grecques, Cicéron prouve que le culte
des morts eut la place prépondérante dans la tradition romaine¹. Il est difficile
de donner des causes qui, de façon univoque, expliqueraient l’apparition brusque
des clauses pénales sur les épitaphes italiques du IIᵉ siècles. Peut-être convient-il
de partager l’opinion de beaucoup de chercheurs qui prennent en considération
une démoralisation croissante de la société romaine, la disparition des anciennes
coutumes républicaines et la rupture des liens familiaux tells qu’ils furent traditionnellement cultivés. Il semble qu’il faille y ajouter la recherche de la fortune,
le fait qui tient une place non négligeable dans la liérature de l’époque. C’est
le relâchement des liens familiaux qui aurait pu jour le rôle décisif. Les notions
telles que le pouvoir suprême du père de famille (patria potestas), la considération
réciproque entre les membres de famille (pietas), ces vertus dont Cicéron avait si
souvent fait l’éloge vers la fin de la République, furent déjà périmés à l’époque.
Nous meons surtout en relief la rupture de la famille dont témoigne l’habitude
qu’on eut d’inscrire sur les épitaphes des notes interdisant la vente, la donation ou
la mancipation des tombeaux familiaux. Ces interdictions montrent que les testateurs furent obligés à prendre des sanctions pénales complémentaires de crainte
que les décisions de testament, en vertu desquelles on désigna les copropriétaires
des tombeaux familiaux, ne fussent pas strictement observées et exécutées. Il ne
suffit plus de brandir l’anathème contre les profanateurs des tombeaux. On se
préoccupa fort peu de se laisser menacer du courroux des dieux ou des morts. Il
* Article est une version résumé de mon travail: J. Iluk, Les Amendes sépulcrales dans les épigraphes italiennes de l’époque de l’Empire Romain, Gdańsk: Wydawnictwo Uniwersytetu Gdańskiego
(accepté pour publication).
¹ Cic., Leg., 2.18.46–27.69.
137
138
 
n’est donc pas étonnant qu’aux formules comminatoires succédèrent les clauses
pénales accompagnées d’amendes auxquelles furent condamnés les profanateurs.
Les Grecs et les Orientaux dont le patrimoine culturel fut dans une large mesure
transféré à Rome, s’y montrèrent une fois de plus, des innovateurs, précurseurs.
L’habitude condamner les profanateurs des tombeaux à de grosse amendes fut
empruntée à l’Asie Mineure où les tribus sémitiques l’avaient déjà pratiquée depuis le IIIᵉ siècle avant notre ère. De nombreux noms grecs (85% de tous les noms),
qui paraissent parmi les fondateurs des inscriptions avec les amendes sépulcrales,
prouvent l’assimilation de cee tradition². Outre l’extension générale de toutes
sortes d’inscriptions, le développement que connurent au IIᵉ siècle les épitaphes
explique par la politique d’hellénisation menée par Hadrien, celle-là favorisant
la colonisation grecque en Italie. Ce fait est confirmé par toute une série de noms
grecs accompagnés de celui de famille d’Hadrien.
La coutume en question de condamner les profanateurs des tombeaux ne s’implanta pas dans toutes les provinces occidentales de l’Empire. A côté de l’Asie Mineure et de la Grèce, elle se fit voir en race, Basse Mésie, Dalmatie, ainsi qu’en
Italie, la périphérie occidentale du territoire ou se pratiquèrent les amendes sépulcrales. ant à l’Italie elle-même, le phénomène se produisit dans deux religions
au Nord et en Campanie. elque confuses qu’en soient les causes, une observation s’impose au moins, ces terrains furent autrefois colonisés par les Grecs.
Sur les territoires italiques par excellence ce type d’épitaphes ne s’observa que
sporadiquement. D’autre part en essayant de répondre à la question pourquoi
cee habitude fut particulièrement répandue sur les terres voisines de la Grèce,
n’oubliez pas de la tradition gauloise de consacrer les tombeaux et les constructions sépulcrales (sub ascia). Les derniers recherchers ont prouvé qu’on donnait ce
genre de l’inscription pour garantir l’inaltérabilité du tombeau. L’inscription sub
ascia effectuait ainsi la même fonction que les amendes italiques de sépulcres³.
Dans le Haut-Empire, le partage en provinces d’Orient et d’Occident correspond
au partage pareille en terrains sous l’influence de la coutume gaullienne (à l’Occident) et d’Asie Mineur (à l’Orient et Italie) de la protection des tombeau.
Les interdictions formulées dans clauses pénales sont conformes à la détermination sepulri violatio des sentences des juristes romains et des décrets des
empereurs, dans lesquels on revient très souvent, surtout dès la fin du IIᵉ siècle,
au problème de la profanation des tombeaux⁴. Dans les épitaphes du IIᵉ siècle
l’interdiction de vente, donation, et de mancipation des tombeaux familiaux prédominait. Ce phénomène est un témoignage une garantie de la famille contre
une insubordination d’un de ses membres. D’après l’apparition fréquente de cee
² Ma thèse accepte Trebilco 1991, 213 et 277.
³ Ha 1951, 91–103.
⁴ CI, 2.39 ; 9.19 ; Dig., 47.12.
     
139
clause, on peut croire, qu’on vendait les tombeaux et en plus, qu’on les meait
en gage. Dans le cours du temps le caractère des délits des sépulcres change. On
n’adresse plus les clauses pénales à la famille mais on les adresse aux gens pour
lesquelles les tombeaux furent des lieux des recherches de trésors ou fournirent
des éléments de construction. Nous observons alors, la disparition des interdictions de la vente et de la donation des constructions tombales et la popularisation,
au détour des siècles IIᵉ et IIIᵉ, des clauses avec l’interdiction de l’ouverture des
sarcophages. Nous avons lié, le phénomène des recherches du trésor dans les
cimetières, avec le fait de l’apparition des décrets impériaux réglant le problème
des trouvailles du trésor et le droit de trouveur. On constate que, en vue de la situation économique de l’Empire de plus en plus difficile, les empereurs successifs
acceptèrent les recherches de trésor dans les tombeaux et les tombes. Il est vrai
que dans les décrets il y a avait les avertissements qui permeaient d’y pénétrer
avant d’y mere des dépouilles, mais ce fut une condition facile à éviter.
Il y avait un énorme écart, entre les amendes les plus basses et celles les plus
hautes — en Italie de 500 à 100.000 sesterces. Dans les études n’a pas consacré
beaucoup de place pour une explication plus étendue des principes de fixation de
la grandeur de l’amende. Nous avons fait une tâche d’analyser la grandeur des
amendes dans le contexte des prix connus des tombes et des tombeaux. Dans ces
analyses nous sommes arrivés à une conviction que le fondateur d’une construction sépulcrale en fixant une amende pour une profanation prit en considération
les coûts de la construction. L’analyse statistique nous montre qu’une amende
pouvait dépasser quatre fois (quadruplum) le prix d’une tombe ou d’un tombeau.
La lue politique entre l’empereur et le sénat, qui durait trois siècles, donna
comme une des ses conséquences, une interception successive par fiscus des revenus de la caisse de sénat. La dégradation de l’aerarium pour le rôle de la caisse
municipale de Rome, ce qui se passa dans les temps des Sévères, était précédée
des réglementés de Claude, Vespasien et Hadrien, qui renfoncèrent et élargirent le
droit de fiscus. La caisse impérial (fiscus) en vue de nombreuses dépenses héritées
de la caisse de sénat, cherchait de nouvelles sources des revenues. Alors le fiscus
devint le seul preneur des biens de personnes condamnées, c’était pour le fiscus
aussi qu’on donnait la partie du trésor trouvé, à la caisse impériale on versait
la partie de la fortune prescrite par le testament, et en plus, des Septime Sévère
aussi les amendes à titre de repetundae payées dans les provinces sénatoriaux. La
politique pareille fut appliquée pour le système de rentrer les amendes des profanateurs. Le nombre de preneurs des amendes sépulcrales diminuait successivement. Aerarium percevant les versements du territoire de Rome et d’Ostie voisine
perdit ce privilège dans les premières années du troisième siècle. Le même destin
frappa les caisses municipales et les trésors de collèges sacerdotaux et artisanaux.
Dans la moitié du troisième siècle la caisse impériale devint le seul percepteur des
amendes.
140
 
ant à l’analyse des relations entre les peines décrites á-dessus et le système
monétaire, il faut constater que l’espèce de monnaie dans laquelle on exprimait la
dimension de l’amende, dépendait du lieu où l’on bâtissait les édifices sépulcraux.
En Italie, qui se trouvait dans la portée de la circulation monétaire occidentale,
les sesterces dominaient dès la moitie du IIᵉ siècle. Dans les cas exceptionnels on
rencontre dans les clauses le nom de la monnaie d’argent — le denier. C’est en
cee monnaie qu’on aurait acquié des amendes en Asie Mineure, Grèce, Mésie
et en race. Pour ce qui est des provinces orientales, on voit la tendance de la
politique fiscale romaine qui visait la limitation de la circulation de monnaies
orientales autonomes et la préférence pour le denier provenant des monnayages
impériaux. Les amendes les plus fréquentes, de 20.000 à 50.000 sesterces n’auraient
pas pu être réglées en monnaie baue en bronze. Nous supposons que, comme
dans d’autres sources citant de grosses sommes de sesterces, dans les épitaphes
décrites la monnaie de bronze ne constitue que la monnaie de compte. L’ordre
de paiement de dizaines ou même de centaines mille sesterces à la caisse désignée indiquait en réalité l’ordre de versement de l’équivalent de cee somme en
monnaie dont le condamné disposait.
L’usage de mere les épitaphes avec les amendes sépulcrales disparut (du
moins dans les sources) dans la deuxième moitie du IIIᵉ siècle. Apparaissant de
nouveau en IVᵉ siècle, il trouva ses partisans parmi les chrétiens. On peut admere comme premières épitaphes chrétiennes celles des inscriptions qui communiquent la désignation des amendes en solidi ou en follis. Parmi des formules
sur les inscriptions datant du début de l’Empire la seule clause pénale conserva
son caractère invariable. Comme auparavant elle commençait avec les mots : si
quis voluerit …, ensuite on donnait le nom de l’édifice — l’ancien monumentum
ou sepulrum étant remplacé par arca — et l’on définissait la sorte du crime, en
finissant par le montant de l’amende et le nom de la caisse où il fallait verser la
somme donnée. L’autre partie de l’inscription ressemblait très peu à les épitaphes
du IIᵉ siècle. La caractère même de l’écriture, ainsi que les abréviations, les sigles,
l’échange de leres constituent souvent une certaine base de classement de l’inscription parmi celles du groupe des épitaphes chrétiens.
L’apparition des amendes sépulcrales dans les épitaphes de la moitié du
IVᵉ siècle résulte entre autres du procès de la christianisation de la société romaine. Les décrets impériaux du IVᵉ et du Vᵉ siècles concernant la loi sépulcrale
citent des amendes infligées non contre la profanation d’une tombe, mais plutôt
contre la profanation des cimetières « païens », c’est à dire les tombes des trois
premiers siècles de l’Empire. Dans la période des lues religieuses qui eurent lieu
en IVᵉ siècle, Constant II, empereur romain d’Orient, défendit pour la première
fois les païens en rendant un décret de la protection des tombes païennes (en
     
141
349)⁵. Dans la deuxième moitié de ce siècle, les lois de la poursuite des sacrilèges
furent un écho d’un culte croissant pour des martyres de l’Église. La recherche
de leurs reliques dans les cimetières, les constructions des chapelles funéraires,
souvent parmi les tombeaux et avec les pierres tombales tout cela suscita un mouvement de dévastation des édifices sépulcraux élevés dans le début de l’Empire.
Le problème de la dévastation des cimetières païens fut encore traité dans la moitié du Vᵉ siècle (la loi Valentinien III de 447)⁶. Cee loi portait surtout contre le
clergé — au nom de la propagation du culte des martyrs ils permeaient de détruire les tombes païennes. Les Pères de l’Église, apercevaient, eux aussi, le mal
qui se répandait. Grégoire de Nazianze accusait maintes fois les ecclésiastiques
d’avoir liquidé les cimetières du début de l’époque de l’Empire. Il fit connaître
son indignation dans de nombreux épigrammes⁷. Il serait faux de croire que pendant ce temps-là les profanateurs des tombes se recrutaient seulement d’entre les
chrétiens. Il faut quand même souligner qu’ils avaient une tâche facilitée. On prenait les tombes païens, de même que les statues des dieux, pour les symboles des
cultes anciens qu’on devait détruire. On peut constater qu’aux IVᵉ et Vᵉ siècles
la loi sépulcrale des Romains, qui autrefois avait protégé tous les tombes sans
égard à la religion du mort, procédait contre son ancien sujet. Car la maxime des
Romains anciens … les tombes des ennemis ne sont pas pour nous les oses sacrées,
sacrifices au culte des morts, on peut donc emporter les pierres et les utiliser à son
gré⁸, en faisait, d’eux-me’mes, les ennemis dans la réalité chrétienne.
Le fait significatif est que les inscriptions chrétiennes avec les amendes se
montraient rarement. Sauf les inscriptions de Concordia⁹ qui constituent la majorité de toutes décrites les épitaphes, il n’y en a que trois qui proviennent des
autres villes de l’Italie. D’autres centres en dehors de l’Italie où on cultivait cee
habitude de la protection des tombes furent Perint, Salone et quelques villes de la
Carie (Asie Mineure). Le dépérissement progressif des traditions en question fut
lié au déclin des villes de l’Italie, à la fuite des habitants et à l’affaiblissement du
marché de la monnaie. A cause de l’appauvrissement des villes de l’Italie du Nord,
qui rappelaient à Saint-Ambroise des organismes morts, il fut inutile d’aribuer
les amendes qui pour bien accomplir leur rôle exigeaient une administration efficace aussi bien que la monnaie forte. Les changements dans le domaine des modèles de la vie économique et de l’avis sur le problème de richesse influencèrent la
réduction les amendes. La grande propriété foncière remplace le capital financier
⁵ C, 9.17.2–4 et 6–7.
⁶ Nov. Val., 23.1–9.
⁷ Epigramatum Anthologia Palatina, ed. F. Dübner, Paris 1864, épigram. 104 et 170–254. Aussi :
Bas. Caes., Ep., 227.66 ; Greg. Nys., Ep. can., 7 ; Joann. Chrys., In Joann. hom., 34.6 ; 60.5.
⁸ Dig., 47.12.4.
⁹ CIL, V, 8768 (de l’année 394–402 de n.è.) ; 8731 (de l’année 409/441 de n.è.) ; 8733 (de l’année
426/427 de n.è.).
142
 
étant une garantie de la vie tranquille et insouciante au début de l’Empire (le
modèle créé surtout par les affranchis). La terre devient la source principale de la
richesse. En même temps on note le retour à une économie naturelle dont l’indice
étaient les salaires et les soldes payes de plus en plus souvent en nature.
La perte le confiance en pouvoir d’achat causée par une profonde dépréciation de la monnaie d’argent influença aussi le caractère des amendes sépulcrales.
On remplaça le système des amendes d’avant la crise dans lequel dominaient de
telles valeurs que des sesterces et des denarii par les amendes payées en monnaie d’or (solidus) ou en livres d’or ou d’argent. L’introduction de l’habitude de
paiement in auro ou in argento fut strictement raachée à la situation du marché
de la monnaie de cee époque-là. L’affluence de l’or dans les trésors d’état fut
finie dès que l’économie eut aeint la période de l’inflation. La monnaie d’argent
qui était en circulation et qui possédait une valeur nominale élevée fit aboutir à
une thésaurisation de la monnaie d’or. La création de l’habitude d’aribuer les
amendes en livres d’or ou d’argent constituait l’une des tentatives de récupérer
d’or rassemblé dans les fonds privés. On peut trouver l’exemple des nouvelles
formes de la politique fiscale dans les décrets rendus par Constantin en 349 et
357. Bien que dans la vie quotidienne on n’ait pas infligé les amendes si lourdes
constituées par les empereurs, le nouveau système des amendes entra en usage
dès la deuxième moitié du IVᵉ siècle dans tout l’Empire.
Néanmoins nous avons beaucoup d’indices nous démontrant qu’on a construit
ce nouveau système d’amendes sur les exemples concrets d’amendes datant du
temps du Haut-Empire. Une telle conclusion s’impose après avoir recompté la
grandeur de peines affligées en argent pendant les trois premiers siècles de l’Empire à la valeur de l’or. Il apparaît que les peines « anciennes » de 10.000, 20.000,
40.000, et 50.000 sesterces équivalent de 2,21 ; 4,43 ; 8,9 et 11 livres d’or se rapprochant des amendes le plus souvent mentionnées dans les épitaphes chrétiennes
et elles trouvent aussi leur réflexion dans les peines établies par des empereurs.
Le fait de déterminer la grandeur de peines en unités de poids des métaux
précieux, est en même temps la dernière étape du développement des peines sépulcrales dans l’ancienneté. and sur les sarcophages liciens du IIIᵉ siècle ap.
J.-C., on meait des clauses pénales, alors il fallait acquier les amendes mentionnées là-dessus en talents d’argent¹⁰. Bien avant notre ère eut lieu, à son tour,
une longue période ou l’on se servait de l’argent dans ce but-là. Cee coutume
persista jusqu’au IVᵉ siècle. A la période du déclin de l’Antiquité on remarque de
nouveau dans la valeur des métaux précieux le garant le plus sûr pour respecter
la loi.
Le fait de mere dans les clauses pénales la menace de condamner un profanateur à la peine charnelle avec la peine de mort y comprise est aussi le trait
¹⁰ CIG, III, 4259.
     
143
caractéristique des épitaphes chrétiennes. Ce type de clauses pénales s’accorde au
caractère du droit pénal de l’époque. Dès Dioclétien on soumeait aux tortures
chaque accusé sans égard à son origine sociale. Une autre coutume qu’on ne trouvait pas dans les inscriptions antérieures, était la mise volontaire du sarcophage
au du sépulcre sous la protection de l’institution de l’état (commendatio). Évidemment c’est l’Église qui était le plus souvent l’institution choisie. Le phénomène de
commendatio croîtra sur une grande échelle en Moyen Âge, changeant en même
temps son caractère sacral en civil. La population des campagnes et des petites
colonies ne voyant pas de possibilité de défense contre des aaques fréquentes
des bandes armées passera en masse sous la protection des églises et des cloîtres.
Les épitaphes chrétiennes sont alors les premiers symptômes du nouveau système social à venir. Une lente, mais efficace extension de l’influence de l’Église
assurera bientôt au clergé le contrôle exclusif sur la ville et sur son ombre — le
cimetière.
Bibliographie :
Ha J., 1951, La Tombe gallo-romaine, Paris.
Trebilco P.R., 1991, Jewish Communites in Asia Minor, Cambridge.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE IDEOLOGY OF THE VICTORY OF THE EMPEROR
SEPTIMIUS SEVERUS IN THE PERIOD 193–197 AD
IN NUMISMATIC SOURCES
D J
B
etween 193–197 the three contenders for the imperial purple fought a
bloody civil war: Clodius Albinus governor of Britain, the governor of
Syria C. Pescennius Niger and the commander of troops in Pannonia
L. Septimius Severus.¹ e result of the bloody struggle for power over the Roman
Empire was the victory of the laer. His success would not have been possible
without proper military and ideological preparation. Septimius Severus, as the
winner, had incomparably greater channels of communication of his policy agenda than his opponents. He used the image of his own family, important festivals
and above all art and coinage. In this article I would like to focus mainly on the
message contained in Roman coins from this period.
From the very beginning of his reign, Severus was creating his image of a
strong and invincible leader. Coinage from the period 193–197 served this purpose.² e emperor particularly emphasized his ties with the army through special monetary issues of the years 193–195 AD. On the obverse side of these coins,
there is an image of the emperor, and on the opposite side the eagle between two
legion banners (vexilla), including the titles of individual legions involved in the
bale: LEG. I ADIVT., LEG. I ITAL., LEG. I MIN., LEG. II ADIVT., LEG. II ITAL., LEG.
III ITAL., LEG. IIII FL., LEG. V MAC., LEG. VII CL., LEG. VIII AVG., LEG. XI CL., LEG.
XIII GEM., LEG. XIIII GEM.³ War coins of Severus, also celebrate his virtues as a
leader and stress his relationship with the soldiers (FIDEI LEG. TR. P. COS.).⁴
In addition to a series of coins referring to the fidelity of his legions, we have
a series of images of deities associated with war, victory and liberation. e most
common pictorial reference is to the goddess Victoria, holding in her hand a
wreath of victory, sometimes even a trophy. She is prophesising victory of the
emperor in the civil war and against the Parthians (VICT. AVG., VICT. AETERN.,
¹
²
³
⁴
Cass. Dio, 74–76; SHA, Sev.; Pesc. Nig.; Cl. Alb.; Hdn., 2–3; Birley 1999, 89–128; Janiszewska 2010.
Maingly 1932, 180–186; Hill 1964.
RIC, IV.1, Sev., 2–17, 397, 652; BMC, V, Sev., 7–25, 336, 337, 371, 471.
RIC, IV.1, Sev., 1, 349, 651, 658; BMC, V, Sev., 5, 6, 321, 327, 469, 470, 478; Vermeeren 1991, 91.
145
146
 
VICT. PARTHICAE).⁵ Sometimes she accompanies the personification of Rome.⁶
or the god Mars with a nickname: Pacator,⁷ Pacifer,⁸ Pater⁹ and Victor¹⁰ e message is clear: only Mars has the power to renew peace during the civil war, which
is disruptive to the unity of the Empire. Minerva (MINERva VICTRICis¹¹) and even
Venus (VENVS VICTricis¹²) play similar roles in Severus’ coinage. e image of
Severus as the avenger of Pertinax is supported on the early coins of Caracalla
by Mars Ultor.¹³ Hercules, surnamed Defensor, also revered in his home town
of Leptis Magna,¹⁴ gives the emperor the strength to carry out conflict against
Clodius Albinus. e epitome of a soldier’s bravery Virtus,¹⁵ in the company of
Mars or Roma, supports and blesses Severus decisions during the war. e emperor, therefore, refers to the gods of just war, bringing peace and victory. He wants
to prove that with their support he is the sole heir of power over the Empire.
e following inscriptions show the activity of the emperor’s military campaigns: PROFECTIO (the emperor on horseback with a spear in hand ready to
fight)¹⁶ commemorates the departure of the emperor for war; FORTVNA REDVX ¹⁷
brings hope for the safe return of the ruler from the balefield, and ADVENTVI
AVG. FELICISSIMO¹⁸ celebrates the triumphant entry to Rome aer the defeat of
Clodius Albinus. Coins depicting spoils of war and weapons torn from the enemies commemorate emperor’s victories in bales in external and internal wars
(INVICTO IMP. [TROPAEA]).¹⁹
During the civil war Septimius Severus also promises to the Roman society
peace, freedom and liberation from the burden of war which is represented by
⁵ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 20–24, 24C, 28–30, 36, 38, 38A, 41, 42, 56A, 63A, 64, 64A, 66, 76, 86, 86A, 94, 95,
109, 120 (a,b,c), 350B,C,H,I, 361–363, 420–430, 438, 441B, 454, 461 (a,b), 462, 464, 466, 471, 480 (a,b),
485, 486, 656, 657, 659, 663, 665, 667, 667A,B, 671, 672, 686, 691, 693, 702A, 704, 725, 734; Julia Domna,
538A, 598, 606, 895; BMC, V, Sev., 27–31, 61, 72, 73, 257–261, 324, 393–402, 433–436, 439, 450, 476–478,
500, 503, 509; 261–262 (VICT. PARTHICAE).
⁶ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 350I, 671, 702A; Julia Domna, 538A; BMC, V, Sev., 550.
⁷ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 33 and 45; BMC, V, Sev., 66, 82 and 83.
⁸ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 113 and 741; BMC, V, Sev., 250, 251 and 620.
⁹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 46, 583, 683, 687; BMC, V, Sev., 84, 527, 550.
¹⁰ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 114, 114A, 405–407, 443, 443A, 456–457A; BMC, V, Sev., 252, 377, 378, 432.
¹¹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 49, 53, 61, 83, 458, 483, 685, 689, 695; BMC, V, Sev., 379.
¹² RIC, IV.1, Sev., 419; BMC, V, Sev., 392.
¹³ RIC, IV.1, Carac., 10 and 11.
¹⁴ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 79, 97, 111, 488; BMC, V, Sev., 218–220, 246, 451; Desnier 1994, 762.
¹⁵ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 430A–431A, 436A, 487, 693; BMC, V, Sev., 32–34, 73, 327, 403, 404, 450, 478, 510–513,
562, 563, 573, 574.
¹⁶ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 91, 106, 138, 494, 728, 740A, 746; BMC, V, Sev., 170, 171, 234, 235, 380, 466, 467, 603,
620, 621.
¹⁷ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 78 (a,b,c), 350, 355, 376B–388, 437A, 439, 440, 448–453, 469, 470, 477–479B, 703 (a,b),
720, 732; BMC, V, Sev., 159–162, 318, 327, 334, 339, 352–364, 424, 428–430, 436–438, 441–444, 599–601,
607.
¹⁸ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 718, 719, 731; BMC, V, Sev., 150–156, 595–598, 607.
¹⁹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 356, 389–395, 441, 441A; BMC, V, Sev., 335, 365–368.
    
147
words like: liberalitas, pax, concordia. Inscriptions with the slogan LIBER[ALITAS]
AVG[G]. were particularly evident in the coinage from Emesa and Laodikea. Liberalitas idea became a popular slogan during the reign of Septimius Severus.
However, freedom was seen then as a freedom of wealth, free trade and exemption from taxes, so liberalitas in the political concept of Septimius Severus
was combined with the promise of wealth and privilege (indulgentia).²⁰ Using a
keyword liberalitas and its representation in the iconography, the founder of the
Severan dynasty reminded the public of the golden age of the Antonine.
e imperial idea of peace is also very complex. Severus portrays himself as a
founder of peace (FVNDAT[OR] PACIS)²¹ and suggests that only his governance
can provide it forever (PACI AVGVSTI, PACI AETERNAE).²² e emperor as a commander in chief can appease the anger of the army and ensure universal consent
in the state (CONCORDIA [MILITVM]).²³ He also ensures that his victory means
safety for the people (SECVRITAS PVBLICA, SECVRITAS PERPETVA),²⁴ which involves the provision of new supplies of grain to Rome, previously restricted by
the war (ANNONAE AVG[G].).²⁵
Another slogan operated by Severus’ regime during the conflict of the
years 193–197 is saeculum. e personification of saeculum frugiferum (SAEC.
FRVGIF.),²⁶ presented at the reverses of coins, holds caduceus in his hand, which
in the Greco-Roman world was a symbol of peace, a tool of gods separating the
warring sides. is idea is combined with the concept of saeculum felicitas²⁷ and
felicitas temporum.²⁸ e very felicitas in conjunction with Fortune²⁹ can also be
understood as the power of the emperor to turning the winning of wars.
e image of the emperor depicted on coins and in portrait sculpture, was
oen the subject of historical research.³⁰ On the obverse one can see his official
portrait: oblong, slender face with prominent forehead and a characteristic furrow, large eyes, set deep in their sockets, seem to be proportional to the stately,
slightly upturned nose; curly hair and a luxuriant beard with a parting typical
of his portraits, completes the image of a majestic ruler. is picture is comple-
²⁰ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 266–268; Levick 2007, 133.
²¹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 128–129, 160; Julia Domna, 593; BMC, V, Sev., 143 (AD 198–209).
²² RIC, IV.1, Sev., 37, 54, 86, 118, 745; BMC, V, Sev., 70, 71, 85, 254.
²³ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 103, 108, 502 (a,b); BMC, V, Sev., 244.
²⁴ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 56, 93, 729, 735; Carac., 2; BMC, V, Sev., 87, 174–176, 604, 607.
²⁵ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 57, 75, 107, 501, 677, 678, 679, 681, 748; BMC, V, Sev., 239–243, 518–521, 524, 621.
²⁶ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 19, 655, 664; BMC, V, Sev., 4 and 475.
²⁷ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 416–418, 692 (a,b), 698, 710, 711; BMC, V, Sev., 337, 390–392, 560, 561, 566.
²⁸ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 372–376; BMC, V, Sev., 334, 346–351.
²⁹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 98, 701, 712; Julia Domna, 551–554 and 874.
³⁰ Balty 1961, 72–78; 1961a, 101–113; 1962, 187–196; 1964, 56–63; Nodelman 1965, 315–327; Saletti 1967; McCann 1968; Schoeting 1972, 13–48; Bonanno 1976; Hill 1979, 36–46; Hannestad 1986,
259–262; Baharal 1989, 566–580.
148
 
mented by statues, reliefs, and even paintings. At the Berlin tondo, the emperor’s
tanned face is surrounded by thick, curly greying hair and beard.³¹
More importantly, Septimius Severus did not want to give the impression that
he fought any civil war. Officially, therefore, he ran only a mediation trip to the
Rome — expeditionis felicissimae urbicae, then a trip to Asia against the enemies
of the public, officially considered outcasts — felicissimae expeditionis Asianae
adversus hostes publico,³² and at the end he suppressed Gallic fraction — oppressit factionem Gallicanam.³³ He did not want it to be claimed that he celebrated
victory in the civil war, and therefore refused to triumph.³⁴ But he easily found
alternative ways to celebrate the victory and gain power over the Empire. is
was represented primarily by the sculpture and architecture, as well as monetary
iconography.
Above all, Septimius Severus highlighted his superior position by posing as
Jupiter.³⁵ Aer gaining power through the civil war, it was very important to
him to connect with the traditional Roman cults. He claimed his authority to
rule was granted by Jupiter. On the aureus of 194 AD Jupiter shakes the hand
of Severus,³⁶ confirming his victory over Pescennius Niger. On different coins of
the same year, either Jupiter holds Victoria and a sceptre, eagle at his feet (some
of them with the inscription IOVI PRAE ORBIS),³⁷ or offers Severus the globe,
the symbol of the Empire.³⁸ Coins from the years 197–200 commemorate victory
over the Parthians: seated Jupiter with the inscription IOVI CONSERVATORI ³⁹ or
Jupiter wielding lightning with the inscription IOVI PROPVGNATORI.⁴⁰ Jupiter
appeared in coinage till the end of Severus’ reign.⁴¹
One of the key elements of successful emperor’s propaganda was to promote
his family.⁴² e dominant role here was played by his wife Julia Domna⁴³ who
was exposed from the very beginning of the conflict for supremacy, as evidenced
by the coins with the title IVLIA DOMNA AVG.⁴⁴ e empress in the official
nomenclature of the state was granted a series of titles that emphasized her rank.
³¹ Hannestad 1986, 259–260.
³² CIL, II, 4114 = ILS, 1140.
³³ CIL, II, 4037 = ILS, 3029.
³⁴ Hdn., 3.9.1; SHA, Sev., 9.10.
³⁵ Fears 1981, 114–115.
³⁶ BMC, V, Sev., 67.
³⁷ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 704 and 722; BMC, V, Sev., 369, 370, 575, 582, 583.
³⁸ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 35.
³⁹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 111A and 130; BMC, V, Sev., 247.
⁴⁰ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 131; BMC, V, Sev. (hybrids), 6.
⁴¹ RIC, IV.1, Sev., 196; BMC, V, Sev., 469–473.
⁴² Bryant 1999, 24–25.
⁴³ Desnier 1993, 613–614; Williams 1902, 259–305; Ghedini, 1984; Baharal 1992, 110–118; Lusnia
1995, 119–140; Levick 2007.
⁴⁴ RIC, IV.1, Julia Domna, 534–607 and 838-846; BMC, V, Julia Domna, 46–57 and 412–424.
    
149
Even during the fighting in 195, she received the title mater castrorum and became the guardian of the Roman legions.⁴⁵ e empress therefore was created
as the protectress of the army and the borders of the Empire. Binding the ruling
pair with the imperial military sphere undoubtedly helped formation of ties between the dynasty and the legionaries, who have affirmed their authority with
the sword. On the reverses of coins with inscription mater castrorum, Julia Domna
is accompanied by the phoenix,⁴⁶ a symbol of the rebirth of political traditions
of the Antonine era. A similar role was played by the portrayal of the empress
on coins accompanied by the goddess Venus. is popular goddess, oen known
as Venus Genetrix, received the nickname Victrix⁴⁷ during the Civil War. us
Venus and the empress who was identified with her, both were awarded the features of the war gods. Linking Julia Domna with victorious Venus stressed the
way in which Severus was linked to Mars. e imperial couple therefore became
the epiphany of the divine lovers.
e sons of Severus were gradually featured on the coins to emphasize the triumph of a new dynasty. From 196 AD, aer the adoption of the Antonine dynasty,
and giving the title caesar to Caracalla, Severus began to introduce his elder son
to the Roman people. e first coins with the title: M. AVR. ANTONINVS CAES.
appeared. is was accompanied by an inscription: SECVRITAS, SPES PERPETVAE
and SEVERI AVG. PII. FIL.⁴⁸ e emperor not only publicly advertised his son, but
expressed the hope that his election will ensure the continuance of his dynasty,
and that aer years of bloody civil war, it will bring stabilization to the Empire.
In the spring of 197 AD, aer the victory over Clodius Albinus at Lugdunum,
Caracalla was officially appointed as a successor of Septimius Severus. is is
also reflected in coins: DESTINATO IMPERAT.⁴⁹ and PRINCIPI IVVENTVTIS.⁵⁰ In
this second type of coin Caracalla is standing next to a trophy and holding a spear
in his hand, recalling his father’s victory over enemies. e image of his younger
son, Geta appeared only aer 197 AD, initially accompanied by the father. e
emperor introduces his subsequent successor and at the same time reveals his
belief that his younger son will ensure the success of the state. Aer 198 AD
he dedicated a separate coin to his younger son, which highlighted his lineage
(SEVERI AVG. PII. FIL.)⁵¹ and reconnects the son with the idea of felicitas. Aer
⁴⁵ ILS, 426, 427, 433, 437, 442, 444, 450, 451, 459, 2371, 2398, 4283, 4484, 6866, 9096; CIL, III, 1780;
VI, 227; XI, 1322; XIV, 2255; AE 1981, 903; 1985, 881c; 1989, 127; Hasebroek 1921, 92; Instinsky 1942,
200–203; Birley 1999, 115–116; Maksymiuk 1998, 49–58; 1999, 449–455.
⁴⁶ RIC, IV.1, Julia Domna, 568 and 569; BMC, V, Julia Domna, 58 and 59 (AD 198–209).
⁴⁷ VENVS VICTRIX : RIC, IV.1, Julia Domna, 581, 842, 846, 888–890; VENERI VICT[O]R. [S. C.]: 535,
536, 579, 842, 846; BMC, V, Julia Domna, 47–54 and 422–424.
⁴⁸ RIC, IV.1, Carac., 1–5; BMC, V, Carac., 181–192, 214, 459–462, 609–616; Brenot 2000, 340.
⁴⁹ RIC, IV.1, Carac., 6; BMC, V, Carac., 193–196.
⁵⁰ RIC, IV.1, Carac., 13 (a,b); BMC, V, Carac., 206–213, 458, 608.
⁵¹ BMC, V, Geta, 147, 148 (AD 198–209).
150
 
the victory at Lugdunum, the emperor was able to build his own dynasty without
any threat from usurpers.
An integral part of Severus’ reign was his emphasis of victory in wars both
internal and external. e emperor tried to communicate to the public, through
coinage, his victory in the civil war and present a vision of his own reign, in
which the important element was to create an impression of the continuation of
policy of previous rulers.
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his Propaganda, Latomus 48, 566–580.
Baharal D., 1992, e Portraits of Julia Domna from the Years 193–211 AD and Dynastic Propaganda
of L. Septimius Severus, Latomus 51, 110–118.
Balty J., 1961, Un buste inédit de Septime Sévère, Latomus 20, 72–78.
Balty J., 1961a, Un prototype officiel dans Septime Sévère, Bulletin de l’Institute Historique Belge de
Rome 33, 101–113.
Balty J., 1962, Un nouveau portrait romain de Septime Sévère, in Hommages à Albert Grenier, I,
Bruxelles (Collection Latomus), 187–196.
Balty J., 1964, Les premiers portraits de Septime Sévère, Latomus 23, 56–63.
Birley A. R., 1999, Septimius Severus. e African Emperor, London.
Bonanno A., 1976, Portraits and Other Heads on Roman Historical Relief up to the Age of Septimius
Severus, Oxford (BAR Suppl. ser. 6).
Brenot C., 2000, La famille de Septime-Sévère à travers les images monétaires, Cahiers du Centre
Gustave-Glotz 11, 331–345.
Bryant C., 1999, Imperial Family Roles. Propaganda and Policy in the Severan Period, in Gli imperatori Severi. Storia, areologia, religione, a cura di E. dal Covolo, G. Rinaldi, Roma (Biblioteca
di Scienze Religiose 138), 23–30.
Desnier J.-L., 1993, Omnia et realia. Naissance de l’urbs sacra sévèrienne (193–204 ap. J.-C.), Mélanges
de l’École française de Rome. Antiquité 105.2, 547–620.
Desnier J.-L., 1994, Septime Sévère, rassembleur de l’Orbis Romanus, in L’Afrique, la Gaule, la
Religion à l’époque romaine. Mélanges à la mémoire de Marcel Le Glay, Bruxelles (Collection
Latomus, 226), 752–766.
Fears J.R., 1981, e Cult of Jupiter and Roman Imperial Ideology, Aufstieg und Niedergang der
römisen Welt II.17.1, 3–141.
Ghedini F., 1984, Giulia Domna tra oriente e occidente. Le fonti areologie, Roma.
Hannestad N., 1986, Roman Art and Imperial Policy, Aarhus.
Hasebroek J., 1921, Untersuungen zur Gesite des Kaisers Septimius Severus, Heidelberg.
Hill Ph.V., 1964, e Coinage of Septimius Severus and his Family of the Mint of Rome AD 193–217,
London.
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Chronicle (ser. 7) 19 (139), 36–46.
Instinsky H.U., 1942, Studien zur Geschichte des Septimius Severus, Klio 35, 200–219.
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Levick B., 2007, Julia Domna. Syrian Empress, London – New York.
Lusnia S.S., 1995, Julia Domna’s Coinage and Severan Dynastic Propaganda, Latomus 54, 119–140.
Maksymiuk K., 1998, Przydomki Julii Domny na monetach, Wiadomości Numizmatyczne 163–164
(1–2), 49–58.
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Julii Domny — mater castrorum, Meander 54.5, 449–455.
Maingly H., 1932, e Coinage of Septimius Severus and his Times. Mints and Chronology, Numismatic Chronicle (ser. 5) 12, 177–198.
McCann A. M., 1968, e Portraits of Septimius Severus (A.D. 193–211), Rome (MAAR 30).
    
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Nodelman S., 1965, Severan Imperial Portaraiture A. D. 193–217, Yale Univ.
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Vermeeren ., 1991, Le type legio dans le monnayage de Septime Sévère, Revue Belge Numismatique 137, 65–94.
Williams M. G., 1902, Studies in the Lives of Roman Empresses: Julia Domna, American Journal of
Araeology 6, 259–305.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
ROMANS AND BARBARIANS — ENEMIES OR ALLIES?
THE ORIGINS OF EUROPEAN CULTURE
Z K
A
t the turn of the Christian era, a new division of Europe began to emerge:
the South, dominated by Roman language and culture and the North,
which Romans named Barbaricum, inhabited, as they understood it, by
“savage” tribes, commonly known as barbarians.¹ e word “barbarian” is onomatopoeic and originates from the Greek. e Greeks defined by it those who
spoke languages incomprehensible to them, which sounded as if one was making the noise, “bar, bar”. is definition was adopted by the Romans, who gave
it another, pejorative meaning. In Latin, this word meant not only people who
differed from Romans in terms of language, but also those with a culture and
behaviour unlike themselves. ese characteristics were perceived by Romans as
being inferior to the ancient cultures of the Mediterranean. Only the Romans
(and by exception the Greeks) were civilised, all the others could only become
civilized by accepting Mediterranean culture.
In this paper I aempt to indicate a few problems concerning the relations
between barbarians and Romans, asking whether they were always enemies or if
they could also have been seen as allies who could mutually benefit each other.
Furthermore, I would also like to suggest that, what we term “European Culture”
originates not only from the Mediterranean, but also from barbarian sources.
However, because of rather limited space, here I only focus on the most representative examples. e subject maer of this paper determines that only the
European part of Barbaricum will be dealt with.
Ancient civilisations provide us with a wide variety of sources; not only archaeological, but also literary and iconographic, which allow us to deepen our understanding of relations between Romans and barbarians. e barbarians, however, le no wrien evidence of their existence, so today we can acknowledge only
one point of view of their contact — that of the Romans’. is imposes certain
restrictions on us. For example, Roman art was mannered, depicting barbarians
in a relatively generic style. Moreover, Romans were accustomed to a stereotype
¹ Tägil 2004, 11.
153
154
 
of the barbarian they created, and thus Roman state art tells us more about its
creators than about the people it depicted.² However, the iconography is also very
detailed, so it does allow us to learn more about the appearance of barbarians and
how the Romans saw them.
e Romans’ judgement about barbarians derived from several different
sources. Some Romans might have encountered a “real” barbarian outside the
limes, or perhaps within the boundaries of the Empire, where barbarians came
in search of new living space or to trade, or were brought as slaves. In the city
of Rome, an occasion to see flesh-and-blood barbarians would have been at a
triumph. It was a tradition that barbarian captives were forced to participate in
these ceremonies, when they were oen displayed in all their humiliation. is
was perhaps the most frequent occasion when Romans were able to express their
opinion of their enemies. It seems to me that state art played the role of confirming the judgements already pronounced by citizens of Rome or perhaps corrected
these, when the population manifested too much sympathy for barbarians.
Another source of knowledge about northern barbarians is literature. Latin
texts treated barbarians in a slightly more sensitive way. ey oen expressed
regret about the lost simplicity of the world. Roman literature underlines the barbarians’ contact with nature, their reason based laws and uncomplicated society,
as much as it describes their different customs and rituals.³ Ancient writers were
keen to emphasize the different environmental conditions of barbarian lands. In
the North, it was impossible to grow any of the traditional Mediterranean plants
— grapes and olives — rather, these regions were beer suited to animal husbandry.⁴ erefore, barbarians and Romans also differed in their diet: one of the
key characteristics of barbarians was their consumption of animal fats and dairy
products.⁵
However, different environments did not only influence diet. ey also created different needs and consumption paerns. Clothing is a very good example
to illustrate this. Due to the severe climate, barbarians had to develop clothing
which would provide warmth during the long and cold winters. Trousers, which
provide much more warmth than the tunic, became characteristic of the barbarian male. Furthermore, when the power of barbarians grew in the North, we can
observe their growing influence on the Roman world. e Romans accepted some
barbarian features, for example trousers, which were much more comfortable especially for horse riding. It must somehow have been an unacceptable fashion in
²
³
⁴
⁵
Ferris 2000, 1.
See, for example, Tac., Germ., 18–22.
Tac., Germ., 5.26.
Morley 2007, 22.
   —   ?
155
Roman society, because the emperor Honorius forbade wearing them in the city
of Rome.⁶
e barbarians depicted on state monuments demonstrate the power of the
Roman state. I think this is the reason why equestrian statues of Roman emperors were oen depicted trampling on male barbarians.⁷ Roman state art was oen
created to commemorate Roman victories over barbarian peoples. Most of these
monuments were erected in Rome as instruments of information and propaganda⁸ for Roman citizens, demonstrating the greatness of the state and emperor,
but also justifying Rome’s conquests. Nevertheless, a few of these monuments
can also be found outside the city of Rome.⁹
In Roman state art, barbarians are almost always depicted as defeated enemies, oen in a state of impotence, bound and humiliated, although at least one
exception can be found. On one of the cups (BRI:2¹⁰) recovered in Boscoreale near
Pompeii (probably early Tiberian in date), is a figured scene depicting a submissio
of barbarian men to the emperor of Rome, most probably Augustus.¹¹ e emperor, seated on a stool contemplates the bearded barbarians with their children. e
impression gained from looking at the portrayed event is that these children are
perhaps offered as hostages to the victorious Romans. However, the scene differs
from other submissio presentations. In Roman art, the emperor in such scenes
always wears a military uniform. On the Boscoreale cup, he is depicted wearing
a toga. It might suggest that Augustus is looking at allies or friends of Rome who
are not begging for clemency by offering their children as hostages, but rather
trying to strengthen the bonds of friendship by giving their children as wards of
Rome for political and social education.¹² e children may never have returned
to their father’s land, thus becoming new Roman citizens as such, or if they did
return, they brought Roman customs with them.
e dominance of images in art and literature of different ethnic groups of
barbarians changed through time. is was due to shis in the external policy of
Rome and/or the changes on the Roman limes, where a growth in power of one of
⁶ Morley 2007, 49.
⁷ Just to mention Marcus Aurelius’ Statue in Capitoline Museum in Rome; although the barbarian
statue did not survive, it is estimated that it was originally there (Hannestad 1987, 219–223).
⁸ In Latin, no such word as “propaganda” existed, nor were there people responsible for presenting state propaganda policy (like those we know from 20ᵗʰ-century nationalistic or Communist
parties). at does not mean that Romans were not aware of the concept of propaganda policy. It
was present in art, literature or on coins and it was present in these spheres on purpose. It just did
not acquire such well organised form as it did in more recent times (Żyromski 2009, 36).
⁹ Ferris 2000, 2.
¹⁰ I follow Kuner’s typology (Kuner 1995, 4).
¹¹ is depiction can be a portrayal of an actual event, when Augustus visited Lugdunum in Gaul
in 8 BC to inaugurate the founding of a temple there (Ferris 2000, 52). For more information about
BRI:2 see Kuner 1995, 94–123.
¹² Ferris 2000, 51–53.
156
 
the barbarian groups could pose a threat. ese circumstances were reflected in
the importance of a particular enemy to Roman self-confidence and state security
as shown in official art.¹³
e monuments of the Dacian Wars (conducted by Trajan in the years
AD 101–106) for example, provide extensive depictions of barbarians. Perhaps
it is also why the Dacians of all barbarian people were the most commonly represented in Roman art. e most popular monument of the time is probably Trajan’s Column,¹⁴ which stood on his Forum in Rome. Careful and detailed carvings
display the most important events of the war. anks to these depictions, we can
learn about the Dacians’ clothes, their environment and their way of fighting.
ey are shown as a powerful, but eventually defeated enemy.
e reign of Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus sees a shi in the depiction
of barbarians, and may well have originated in a change in the way they were
perceived. I believe that the key to understanding this new way of describing
barbarians lies in the events of the Marcomanic Wars. Suffice it to say that they
were not as successful as the Dacian wars. As we can observe on Marcus Aurelius’
Column in Rome,¹⁵ inspired by Trajan’s Column, but not so carefully carved, the
barbarians are dehumanised, they became only a body, profaned by Romans and
totally dependent on the might of Rome.¹⁶ It is difficult to answer the question
why such a profound change occurs in Roman art. Perhaps it was the fear of
the barbarians’ rising power and the continued decline of Rome’s strength. e
dehumanisation of barbarians could also be explained by the constant need to
fight them.
Barbarians were present in Roman sources as long as they remained free and
independent. As soon as their land was conquered and they were transformed
into Roman citizens, they disappeared from official depictions. At least most of
them, as some were occasionally commemorated if they died for Rome or invested
in self-advertisement (for example as a liberated slave).¹⁷
We can also confirm the Roman fear of barbarians in another example. To
defend themselves from a real or imagined threat, the Romans built a fortified
border, the so-called limes, which was intended to protect them from unwelcome
visitors. Although it is debatable whether these fortifications had a real defensive
purpose or were merely of symbolic significance, they certainly did not fulfil the
task. Barbarians kept crossing the border of the Empire in increasingly larger
numbers, and eventually they led to the fall of the once so mighty Roman state.
¹³ Ferris 2000, 180.
¹⁴ For more information about Trajan’s Column and Dacians Depiction see Hannestad 1986,
154–167; Rossi 1971, particularly pages: 121–126 and 130–212.
¹⁵ For more information about Marcus Aurelius’ Column see Hannestad 1987, 236–244.
¹⁶ Ferris 2000, 96.
¹⁷ Ferris 2000, 4; for more information see Petersen-Hackworth 2006.
   —   ?
157
However, building the fortified border did not prevent Romans from living
next to barbarians, trading with them or even marrying them. e border areas
of the Empire were oen thought of as unaractive, and were probably the reason
why Romans had nothing against natives living on the conquered lands which
once had been theirs. Veterans were oen the exception to this. Aer a long
period of military service, they became used to the territory where they had been
stationed, oen starting families there, thus aer retirement, they remained in the
place of their service.¹⁸
In the period of the Late Empire, a certain acceptance of the barbarians’ constant presence in Roman life occurred. e obelisk of eodosius¹⁹ can serve to
illustrate this. On one of its sides we can see the emperor and his court seated in
the hippodrome tiers. ey are protected by Germanic guards carrying spears,
while below we can observe barbarian captives seeking clemency. As barbarians come from different parts of the empire (as reflected in their costumes), the
obelisk may have been erected to show the geographical reach of eodosius’
rule. It also depicts the emperor’s might, as the one who can fight his enemies
(which means the enemies of Rome as well), but also, when necessary, he who
can pacify and use them to protect his state. It seems as though the empire can
suffer more from its own citizens (a potent message in the country, where so
many civil wars disturbed peace and stability) than from its external enemies.²⁰
It seems to me that the barbarians were always present in Roman culture, no
maer whether as enemies or as allies, as people of lesser might from an inferior
civilisation. is way of depicting them, allowed the Romans to define themselves
as their very opposite. Human beings express their identity through their dress,
diet, housing etc. Consciously, or not, they follow their native paerns and customs thereby expressing their membership in a specific society. In every nation
there are accepted rules of behaviour in everyday life and for special occasions.²¹
To follow these rules means to belong to a certain group of people. at is why
it was easier for Romans to define themselves as the opposite of “the other” —
the barbarian, who wore different clothes and behaved in a different, non-Roman,
manner. ese kinds of depictions of barbarians justified Roman feelings of might
and power and their will to dominate the world, as well as the pride in their own
civilisation.
On the other hand, it is wrong to assume that Romans underestimated their
neighbours. ey may have believed that they were beer than barbarians in
many ways, but they also feared them or feared the difference between the two
worlds, and it seems to me that in their own way Romans really admired, or
¹⁸
¹⁹
²⁰
²¹
Dyson 1985, 272.
For more information about eodosius’ obelisk see Hannestad 1987, 332–338.
Ferris 2000, 145–147.
Morley 2007, 47.
158
 
at least had a grudging respect for barbarians. Even the splendour of victorious
Rome shown in triumph presented something I would call “equality” between the
Romans and the barbarians. e Romans must have valued barbarians, because
otherwise, the celebration of their defeat would not have been an occasion for
such self glorification. As stated by C.A. Barton, “without equal opponent there
could be no valour”.²²
Although, recently we can acknowledge a significant turn in the way the barbarians are presented in scientific studies,²³ this Roman perception of Germanic
peoples still lingers on in some of today’s research. Old-school historians and
archaeologists would like to think of barbarians as greedy tribes, who sought
Roman treasures and fertile and peaceful Roman soil, which they desired to such
an extent that, they did not hesitate to destroy the civilisation they admired.²⁴
Archaeologists too seem to suffer from this Roman vision of less developed barbarian technology as they tend to name every artefact of beer quality a “Roman
import”. Although such researchers seem to be aware of the existence and the
importance of barbarian cultures, they still tend to see it as somehow inferior to
the Roman.
Yet, barbarians were merely different to the Romans, an idea which is more
understandable nowadays than at the time of Roman Empire. eir culture, habits
and morals created European culture just as much as the Greek and Roman cultures did. e barbarian kingdoms, which rose on the ruins of the Roman world,
identified themselves with ancient culture; they appealed to Roman law or the
Latin language. It was not without reason that Latin was the medieval lingua
franca. On the other hand, it was impossible for the barbarians to lose their ancestral heritage, so from the old, a new culture was created, with a mixture of
barbarian and Roman traditions.
Today we have no choice, but to see barbarians through Roman eyes. What I
mean is that we are compelled to rely on what the Romans thought and presented or wrote about their neighbours and thus need to distinguish some form of
social reality from the interpretations of ancient writers and artists. For the sake
of objectivity, we also need to try to see in Barbaricum a world as rich and as
fascinating as the Mediterranean.
Today, we observe another aempt to unite Europe — the European Union.²⁵
One would think that we were trying to resurrect the concepts on which the
Roman Empire relied: one state under one administration and one legal system,
²² Barton 1993, 28.
²³ For example, the exhibitions showing the richness of the barbarian world, like Rome and the
Barbarians: the Birth of a New World which was displayed in Venice (Italy) and Bonn (Germany)
from January to December 2008 (James 2008), or works of Ferris 2000 or Todd 1975.
²⁴ Fitzpatrick 1993, 233.
²⁵ Tägil 2004, 12.
   —   ?
159
one monetary system, one culture, whose origins were debated while preparing
the preamble to the European Constitution. e statement that our culture originates only from the Mediterranean world is an oversimplification. What we term
European Culture is not homogeneous.²⁶ Its roots grow deep in at least two traditions: the ancient Judeo Greco-Roman one, from which the idea of humanism
was drawn, and the barbaric one, for we all live in what was once the land of the
barbarians. In order to understand today’s Europe we must carefully examine its
roots and not ignore any of its branches.
Bibliography:
Barton C. A., 1993, e Sorrows of the Ancient Romans. e Gladiator and the Monster, Princeton.
Dyson L.S., 1985, e Creation of the Roman Frontier, Princeton.
Ferris I. M., 2000, Enemies of Rome. Barbarians through Roman Eyes, Gloucestershire.
Fitzpatrick A. P., 1993, Ethnicity and Change: Germans, Celts and Romans in the Late Iron Age, in
Trade and Exange in Prehistoric Europe. Proceedings of a Conference Held at the University of
Bristol, April 1992, edited by Ch. Scarre and F. Healy, Oxford, 233–244.
Hannestad N., 1986, Roman Art and Imperial Policy, Aarhus.
James N., 2008, (Rome + Barbarians) = Europe?, Antiquity 82, 493–496.
Kuner A. L., 1995, Dynasty and Empire in the Age of Augustus. e Case of the Boscoreale Cups,
Berkeley.
Modzelewski K., 2004, Barbarzyńska Europa, Warszawa.
Morley N., 2007, Trade in Classical Antiquity, Cambridge.
Petersen-Hackworth L., 2006, e Freedmen in Roman Art and Art History, New York.
Rossi L., Trajan’s Column and the Dacian Wars, London 1971.
Tägil S., 2004, European Identity — Myth or Reality?, in e European Frontier. Clashes and Compromises in the Middle Ages. International Symposium of the Culture Clash or Compromise (CCC)
Project and the Department of Araeology, Lund University, Held in Lund October 13–15 2000,
edited by J. Staecker, Lund, 11–14.
Tood M., 1975, e Northern Barbarians. 100 B.C. — A.D. 300, London.
Żyromski M., 2009, Ideology, Propaganda and Symbols of Power. e Example of Capital of Rome,
Poznań.
²⁶ Modzelewski 2004, 6.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
VINDEX, NÉRON ET … PROBUS
CONCORDIA ET ORBIS DANS LE DISCOURS
POLITICO-IDÉOLOGIQUE ROMAIN
A A. K
L
’un des moments décisifs dans l’histoire de Rome fut l’époque dénommée
l’« année des quatre empereurs »¹, désignant la période allant du printemps
68 à l’automne 69. Néanmoins déjà plus tôt dans l’État romain on avait pu
ressentir un mécontentement par lequel on exprimait la désapprobation à l’égard
de la personne et des excès de l’empereur Néron. Le premier Julius Vindex, le
propréteur de la Gaule Lugdunaise, après les initiatives préparatoires en 67 (?),
en mars 68 se déclara ouvertement en guerre contre Néron². Peu à peu d’autres
légats refusèrent obéissance à l’empereur, proclamèrent leur chef le proconsul de
l’Espagne Tarraconaise — Galba. En juin 68 le Sénat reconnaît Galba en déclarant
Néron l’ennemi public. Abandonné de tous Néron se donna la mort. L’avènement
de Galba et la fin du dernier des Julio-Claudiens ne clôturèrent nullement la période d’inquiétude dans l’Empire. La rivalité pour acquérir le pouvoir impérial
venait juste de commencer. L’empereur impopulaire Galba fut assassiné après
son bref règne, pareillement le principat d’Othon ne fut pas plus long, ni puis
celui de Vielius. Ce ne fut qui le doué Vespasien qui réussit à rétablir pour plus
longtemps son règne, ce qui permit de faire sortir l’Empire de l’impasse de la
guerre civile et instaurer la nouvelle dynastie des Flaviens veillant aux intérêts
du monde romain.
Le déroulement dynamique de l’histoire dans les années 67/68–69, à savoir
les événements de la sphère politique, furent accompagnés des évocations intéressantes d’ordre idéologique. Il en était ainsi puisque le charisme des princes
julio-claudiens s’éteignit³. Au principe dynastique on opposa une idée ancienne
de libertas populi Romani, cee fois-ci perçue comme le droit du peuple ro-
¹ Mrozewicz 2010, 3.
² Les démarches préliminaires de Vindex auprès de Galba — Plut., Gal., 4.1–2 ; sur la date des
débuts du mouvement de Vindex — Ioseph., BI, 4.440 ; Philostr., VA, 5.10. L’empereur a appris la
révolte gauloise qu’il séjournait à Naples — Suet., Ner., 40 ; Cass. Dio, 63.26.1. À propos de C. Iulius
Vindex — Plin., NH, 20.57 ; Cass Dio, 63.22.1.
³ Suet., Gal., 1 ; Tac., Hist., 1.16 ; cf. p.ex. Aur. Vict., Caes., 5.17 ; Eutr., 7.15.3.
161
162
 . 
main et du Sénat à désigner le princeps. D’autre part les arcana imperii⁴ ont
démontré l’importance de différents territoires faisant partie du vaste Empire
et la force de l’appui politique acquis non seulement à Rome. C’est ainsi que
se renforça un courant idéologique que furent les références aux associations
géographico-politiques.
Concordia orbis terrarum
Déjà à l’époque de la République et du règne d’Auguste et de ses successeurs
de la dynastie julio-claudienne dans l’idéologie romaine fut profondément enracinée la conviction suivant laquelle les Romains furent maîtres du monde, liée à
la croyance ferme au caractère exceptionnel de leurs vertus, de la mission civilisatrice dans le monde et à la conception de imperium sine fine. Dans le message
le plus liéral cee conviction se traduisait par les notions telles que orbis (terrarum), terra marique, οἰκουμένη, γῆ καὶ θάλασσα dans la liérature, des inscriptions, et le monnayage ou bien par la symbolique du globe ou de Orbis personnifié
dans les arts visuels. À l’époque de l’Empire elles furent cumulées autour du personnage de l’empereur et des membres de sa famille. L’étape splendide d’une telle
pratique est évidemment tracée par la période du règne d’Auguste. Après sa mort
les avantages procurés par l’autopromotion, la gloire dont il jouissait, furent illuminer ses proches d’une partie de cee splendeur. Nous lisons donc, qu’on aurait
souhaité conférer à Livie, déjà dotée du titre d’Augusta et adoptée à la gens Iulia⁵,
la qualité de mater patriae, ce qui suscita l’opposition de Tibère⁶ ; toutefois faute
de sanction juridique officielle ce titre était en usage⁷. Par contre Livie Auguste
est qualifiée de genetrix orbis dans une inscription d’Anticaria (Bétique) et sur les
monnaies de Romula⁸. Ce ne fut pourtant que la période de 67/68–69 et le principat des Flaviens qui apportèrent une relance de la pratique de l’emploi dans
le discours politique, poursuivi (ou au moins reflété) par l’iconographie et des
légendes monétaires, de la métaphore de la domination de Rome dans le monde,
à savoir du terme orbis.
Toutefois c’est déjà de l’époque de la crise politique au déclin du règne de
Néron et du chaos accompagnant la lue pour sa succession que date le denier
portant les légendes : CONCORDIA ORB(is) TER(rarum) et le buste de la Concorde
voilée et diademée, et : PIA FELICITAS et la Félicité debout tenant une patère
au-dessus d’un autel allumé.
⁴ Tac., Hist., 1.4 ; cf. Ann., 2.36.
⁵ Vell. Pat., 2.75.3 ; Tac., Ann., 1.8 ; Suet., Aug., 101 ; Cass. Dio, 56.46.1.
⁶ Tac., Ann., 1.14 ; Suet., Tib., 50 ; Cass. Dio, 57.12.4.
⁷ RPC, I, 849–850 ; Cass. Dio, 58.2.3.
⁸ CIL, II, 2038 = ²II.5, 748 ; RPC, I, 73, cf. RPC, Suppl. 2, S2–I–67A ; un nom de Genetrix — Ovid.,
Fasti, 1.649–650.
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163
Ce type n’est jusqu’aujourd’hui connu qu’en un seul exemplaire, découvert en
juillet 1972 pendant les fouilles réalisées par J. Le Gall sur le parvis du temple de
Taranis à Alésia. Dans la liérature il a été introduit par D. Bonneterre et D. Nony
qui le plaçaient parmi les séries monétaires de la crise de 68–69⁹. Il a été également
mentionné par A. Mastino, le datant à l’an 68 et l’associant à la guerre après la
mort de Néron, pareillement — H. Martin¹⁰. D’autre part É.P. Nicolas propose
fin 67/début 68, donc la période du vivant du dernier empereur de la dynastie
julio-claudienne. Il intègre ce denier à ce groupe des « monnaies anonymes »
qui est lié à l’activité politique antinéronienne des oppositionnistes menée dans
les Gaules, c’est-à-dire Vindex ; pourtant ni la défaite à Vesontio ni le suicide de
Vindex (avril/mai ? 68) ne mirent pas fin à la frappe de ce groupe de monnaies¹¹.
De même C.H.V. Sutherland enclut ce denier au groupe des monnaies gauloises de
Vindex frappées encore sous le règne de Néron, tout en limitant, trop rigoureusement, paraît-il, la période de son émission à celle entre mars et mai 68¹². Le lieu
de frappe du denier demeure incertain : Vienna, Durocortorum, Augustodunum,
peut-être une Monnaie itinérante ?, en tout cas, il ne fut pas émis à Lugdunum¹³.
C.M. Kraay retrouve juste les prototypes de certains sujets développés dans le
monnayage gaulois dans le monnayage d’Auguste et des Julio-Claudiens¹⁴. Toutefois cee période a connu la frappe des monnaies représentant les concepts
atypiques, parfois même uniques. Mais même pour eux il est possible (d’habitude)
de retrouver des analogies liéraires ou d’autres traces dans la tradition romaine.
Un exemple en est fourni par le sujet original des deniers : HERCVLES ADSERTOR
| FLORENTE FORTVNA PR.¹⁵ Nous y avons d’une part une allusion subtile mais
lisible faite au personnage de Vindex lui-même, où l’on a fait recours au jeu de
mots et à l’équivalence de son nom avec l’épithète accordée à Hercule : Adsertor¹⁶,
car les termes vindex et adsertor s’équilibrent : adsertores dicuntur vindices alienae libertatis¹⁷. D’autre part dans le patrimoine liéraire de Cicéron qui écrivit :
⁹ Bonneterre et Nony 1973, 384–385.
¹⁰ Mastino 1986, 77 ; Martin 1974, 46, 67, 68, 87 et nᵒ 48a.
¹¹ Nicolas 1979, 1339–1342, 1405–1408 et 1313, nᵒ 14 = 1423, nᵒ 46, pl. 2. La nouvelle de la mort de
Néron et de l’avènement de Galba a fait finir cee production (juin 68).
¹² RIC, I², Civ. Wars, p. 198–199 et nᵒ 41.
¹³ Cf. Tac., Hist., 1.65. À propos de la localisation des ateliers en Gaule — Maingly 1914, 117, 137 ;
Martin 1974, 46 ; Nicolas 1979, 1411 ; RIC, I², p. 198.
¹⁴ Kraay 1949, 130–137 ; cf. Maingly 1914, 116–117 ; Raoss 1958, 109–117.
¹⁵ Martin 1974, 41 et nᵒ 9 ; Nicolas 1979, 1312, nᵒ 1 = 1416, nᵒ 9 ; RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 49.
¹⁶ Hercule en tant que malorum hostis, bonorum vindex — Sen., Ben., 1.13.3. Cf. Mars adsertor —
RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 133 (monnaie de Civilis) ; Jupiter adsertor — Stat., eb., 11.217–218.
¹⁷ Don., Ter. Ad., 2.1.40. Cf. Sen., Con., 9.4 ; Sen., Ep., 2.13.14 ; Tac., Hist., 2.61 ; Mart., 1.24.3 ; Luc.,
4.214 ; Plin., NH, 20.160. À propos d’une libertas et de vindex/adsertor — p.ex. RIC, I², Aug., 476 :
libertatis pR vindex ; RGDA, 1 : rem publicam a dominatione factionis oppressam in libertatem vindicavi ; ILS, 217 : vindex libertatis ; RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 130 : adsertor libertatis ; RIC, II, Vesp., 411 et
455 : adsertor libertatis publicae.
164
 . 
nunc meam spoliatam fortunam conferam cum florente fortuna imperatoris¹⁸, on
peut retrouver la ressemblance ou, peut-être, une trace d’une légende de revers
dans laquelle cet état fleurissant devient accessible au peuple romain : FLORENTE
FORTVNA PR. De telles associations avec les personnes engagées aux événements
actuels de l’époque, aussi bien que les prototypes de monnaies et traces liéraires
ou épigraphiques sont absents pour ce qui est du denier CONCORDIA ORB. TER.
| PIA FELICITAS. Il continue à garder sa place exceptionnelle dans le monnayage
romain. Il convient de remarquer, que c’est pour la première fois, que l’expression
orbis terrarum fut liée à l’abstraction divinisée (Concordia). Cee fois-ci il s’agit
d’un contexte tout à fait différent par rapport à celui figurant sur la monnaie
mentionnée IVLIA AVGVSTA GENETRIX ORBIS. Si, dans le cas précédent, orbis
fut expressément lié à l’individu (Livie Augusta), sans avoir pourtant égaré l’aspect dynastique (gens Iulia), cee fois-ci, suite à l’emploi de l’expression orbis
terrarum, c’est la dimension mondiale ou universelle de l’idée concordia qui a été
mise en valeur. Bientôt au nom d’Othon seront frappées les monnaies sur lesquelles la dimension de l’idée pax sera définie de la manière pareille : PAX ORBIS
TERRARVM¹⁹. Puis cee idée sera transformée dans le monnayage de Vespasien :
PACI ORB. TERR. AVG.²⁰
Idéologie patriotique : concordia, orbis et bellum Neronis
Le denier CONCORDIA ORB. TER. | PIA FELICITAS n’est pourvu ni du buste ni
du nom de l’empereur, ni même d’aucune mention concernant d’autres protagonistes des événements de cee époque-là. En appartenant au groupe dit « monnaies oppositionnelles anonymes » il exprime l’autorité de Rome en tant que telle
et l’opposition à l’égard de Néron au pouvoir. On peut donc préciser les représentations et les légendes dans les frappes gauloises en tant qu’arme idéologique
mise en jeu lors de bellum Neronis, comme, en empruntant cee notion au vocabulaire de Tacite, on peut définir cee situation des derniers mois du règne de
Néron²¹. Il est évident que les conséquences politiques du soulèvement de Vindex furent immenses : à partir du renversement du représentant de la dynastie
gouvernant l’Empire pendant presque un siècle, par trois brefs principats et la
guerre civile jusqu’à l’instauration du pouvoir de la nouvelle dynastie. Pourtant,
au début les forces de la révolte n’avaient pas été grandes, dans Historiae de Tacite on mentionne même l’expression : cum inermi provincia²². La dimension et
¹⁸ Cic., Pis., 38.8.
¹⁹ RIC, I², Otho, 3–6. Cf. Tac., Hist., 2.47.
²⁰ RIC, II, Vesp., 317–318, 324, 327, 350.
²¹ Tac., Hist., 2.27 ; cf. 1.65 : bellum Gallicum ; 1.70 : bellum Vindicis ; 1.89 : provinciale bellum ;
Vindicis motus ; 1.13 et 15 : bellum ; CIL, VIII, 13 = AE 1948, 3 = 1952, 104 = 1962, 34 : bellum quod
imperator Galba pro re p gessit. Cf. Shoer 1975, 59–74 ; Murison 1993, 1–26.
²² Tac., Hist., 1.16.
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165
une vaste portée de la rebelle de Vindex résulte entre autres de la propagande
effectuée par le légat. Le retentissement à ses appels fut important. Il a gagné à sa
cause les peuples en dehors de Lugdunaise (Aeduens), à savoir ceux de Narbonnaise (Viennois), Aquitaine (Arvernes), Belgique (Séquanes) ; il n’ignorait probablement rien de l’importance d’autres zones de l’Empire : Orient, Germanie
Supérieure et sans doute de l’Espagne²³. Il ne manqua pas à chercher de l’appui
auprès du gouverneur de Tarraconaise — Galba qui, initialement mal disposé à
se rallier, finalement le rejoignit et en agissant en qualité du légat du Sénat et du
peuple romain proclama ouvertement en guerre contre Néron²⁴.
Relativement vaste est notre savoir sur la teneur de cee propagande de Vindex. Nous la reproduisons, point par point, en puisant aux informations relatives
aux mesures prises par celui-ci mais aussi en cherchant à découvrir ses nuances
par analyse des appels qu’il distribua, des discours qu’il aurait faits et des légendes monétaires. Dans les manifestes envoyés par Vindex la critique visait
Néron, Ahénobarbe, de comédien, détestable citharède²⁵. L’objectif fut donc d’éliminer le tyran, de remplacer un mauvais empereur par un bon²⁶, c’est-à-dire le
renouvellement de libertas si chère aux Romains²⁷. Significative est le jugement
de Vindex adoptée dans la tradition ultérieure : adsertor ille a Nerone libertatis²⁸.
Et même Dio Cassius écrivant déjà au IIIᵉ siècle, cite une longue harangue de
Vindex dans laquelle il élucide les motifs de sa colère contre Néron et sa décision
tout en insistant sur la folie, l’avidité, la cruauté, la débauche de l’empereur, sur
sa nature de comédien, histrion, une lyre à la main ; c’est un homme que a épousé
Sporus et Pithagore ; Néron a fait périr « la fleur du Sénat », il a déshonoré et tué
sa mère ; il a pillé tout l’univers romain (Ῥωμαίων οἰκουμένη). Vindex se vit donc
obligé d’affronter un tel empereur efféminé, indigne, tyrannique. Le discours est
clos par un appel : levez-vous, secourez les Romains et délivrez d’un si honteuse
tyrannie ; délivrez l’univers entier (οἰκουμένη)²⁹. Vindex imposa aux Gaulois le
²³ À propos des Aeduens — Tac., Hist., 1.51 ; 4.17, Viennois — 1.65, Arvernes — 4.17, Séquanes —
1.51 ; d’autres peuples de la Lugdunaise — 1.16 ; de Flavus, Asiaticus et Rufinus en Gaule — Tac.,
Hist., 2.94 ; cf. Suet., Ner., 40 et 45 ; Ioseph., BI, 4.440 ; de Verginius Rufus en Germanie Sup. —
Ioann. Ant., fr. 91 (FHG, IV, 575–576) ; Cass. Dio, 63.24.1–2 ; de Vespasien en Judée (?) — Ioseph.,
BI, 4.440 ; des villes en Achaïe — Philostr., VA, 5.41 ; cf. les monnaies de L. Caninius Agrippa :
SENAT[VI] PQR (BMC Corinth, nᵒ 571) et ROMAE ET IMPERIO (BMC Corinth, nᵒˢ 572–573). Cf. Mattingly 1914, 114–115 ; Brunt 1959, 532–543 ; Raoss 1960, 55–61 ; Shoer 1975, 61–69 ; Nicolas 1979,
267–268, 311–313.
²⁴ Suet., Gal., 9 et 10 ; Plut., Gal., 4.4–5.2.
²⁵ Suet., Ner., 41 ; cf. Plut., Gal., 4.1.
²⁶ Suet., Ner., 40 ; Gal., 9 ; Plut., Gal., 4.3–4 ; 5.3 ; Philostr., VA, 5.10 et 35.
²⁷ Cf. les monnaies en Gaule : PAX ET LIBERTAS — RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 57 et 58 ; Nicolas 1979, 1314,
nᵒˢ 21, 48, 55 ; SALVS ET LIBERTAS — RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 64–66 ; Nicolas 1979, 1314, nᵒˢ 23 et 24 ;
IVPPITER LIBERATOR — RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 62 ; Nicolas 1979, 1312, nᵒ 7.
²⁸ Plin., NH, 20.57 ; cf. Iuv., 8.221–223 ; Philostr., VA, 5.10 et 35.
²⁹ Cass. Dio, 63.22.3–6. À propos des violences, meurtres, exactions du fisc etc. — p.ex. Suet., Ner.,
26–30 ; 32–37 ; 44–45 ; Tac., Ann., 15.45 ; Plut., Gal., 4.1.
166
 . 
serment de tout faire dans l’intérêt du Sénat et du peuple romain, et de le tuer
lui-même s’il faisait quelque chose de contraire³⁰. Le pouvoir ne fut pas son objectif personnel³¹. Sans prétendre à l’Empire pour lui-même il chercha quelqu’un
capable de mener la révolte³². Comme on sait, il choisit Galba, homme réputé,
d’origine noble et illustre³³. Dans ce contexte « universel » on peut placer l’appellation dont, ce que relate Suétone, Vindex, en flaant Galba, dota ce dernier :
assertor generis humani³⁴.
Dans la convention pareille dans laquelle on allègue des notions telles que
οἰκουμένη, orbis, de sa périphrase orbis terrarum et de la notion équivalente à la
précédente : genus humanum, on a maintenu les différentes relations et allusions
relatives aux événements de 67/68–69³⁵. D’autre part on soulignait que Galba, ex
Hispania princeps dominusque rerum³⁶, prit pouvoir grâce au consentement de
tous, consensus generis humani³⁷. On a mis également l’accent sur l’importance
de cee concordance (concordia) entre les différents chefs d’armée et hommes
politiques, aussi bien qu’entre les différentes forces engagées aux perturbations
politiques de l’époque³⁸.
Dans ce vaste fond, bien que, vu la nécessité, esquissé à peine au lieu d’être
minutieusement approfondi, peut s’inscrire le denier CONCORDIA ORB. TER. |
PIA FELICITAS. On y observe deux devises fondamentales, équilibrées avec une
précision exceptionnelle. On fait une allusion à felicitas. C’est un trait indispensable de l’époque de bonheur qui devient est des objectifs tracés par les révoltés rebellés contre l’empereur-tyran. D’autre part felicitas elle-même acquiert, ce
qui constitue une connotation peu commune, l’épithète pia, comprise, comme on
peut supposer, dans son aspect fondamental consistant en exercice des devoirs à
l’égard de la patrie et en respect des traditions, alors ce qui s’en suit — en libération de Rome de la tyrannie. Cela, ce qui est évident, donne à ces combaants la
splendeur supplémentaire. Felicitas est « conditionnée » par leur pietas. Il y a aussi
une allusion faite à orbis terrarum. C’est un témoignage de l’identification avec le
monde romain de ses parties envahies par le mouvement de Vindex. C’est également l’aribution à ce mouvement de la dimension de l’entreprise universelle, ce
³⁰ Zon., 11.13.
³¹ Cf. la tradition contraire — Iul., Caes., 310D–311 : Vindex placé sur le même rang que Galba,
Othon, Vitellius (μονάρχων) ; Aur. Vict.-Ps., Epit. de Caes., 5.6 : imperium corripuere ; Ioann. Ant.,
fr. 91, v. 10–22 (FHG, IV, 575–576) : le projet du partage des zones de l’Empire (pour Vindex, Verginius et Galba) ?
³² Plut., Gal., 4.3 ; Suet., Gal., 9 ; Cass. Dio, 63.23.
³³ Suet., Gal., 2–8 ; Plut., Gal., 3–5 ; Cass. Dio, 63.23 ; Aur. Vict., Caes., 6.1 ; cf. Nicolas 1979, 291–299 ;
Murison 1993, 27–44.
³⁴ Suet., Gal., 9.
³⁵ Tac., Hist., 1.3 et 16 ; 3.60 et 68 ; Mart., 7.63.9–10 ; Eutr., 7.15.1.
³⁶ Suet., Gal., 9.
³⁷ Tac., Hist., 1.30 ; cf. 1.15, 16 et 49 ; Suet., Gal., 14 ; Cass. Dio, 64.2.1 ; Eutr., 7.16.1.
³⁸ Suet., Oth., 8 ; Vit., 15 ; Tac., Hist., 3.68 ; cf. 1.56 et 74 ; 2.5, 8 et 20 ; 3.65 et 70.
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167
qui met en valeur la mission de Vindex. C’est en même temps la déclaration de
loyauté faite par Vindex à l’égard de Rome. Toutefois le fil conducteur est dans
ce cas-là concordia. L’expression orbis terrarum (en géniti) ne sert qu’à définir
l’étendue territoriale de cee valeur. Comme le décrit L. Morawiecki dans ses
analyses de l’idée de concordia, les appels lancés en faveur de Concordia constituent en même temps un aveu confirmant la continuation du règne de sa soeur
« méchante » — Discordia³⁹. Cela explique pourquoi la concorde, l’état postulé,
fut toujours d’actualité en période de guerre civile.
Concordia et orbis.
Rencontre (ou hiatus) de la numismatique et de la liérature
Les Romains étaient bien conscients des avantages de la concorde dans la vie
de l’État. Concordia — estimaient-ils — reste un des piliers idéologiques du fonctionnement régulier de l’État, c’est ce qui lui conère la force et la puissance de
vaincre⁴⁰, tandis que les querelles, scissions, rebelles, chaque seditio et la rébellion
contre le pouvoir légitime portent aeinte à cet état, en affaiblissant l’État. Le
désaccord est susceptible de nuire à l’État et même — avertissaient-ils — de faire
périr les États très puissants⁴¹. D’autant plus donc il faut apprécier la concorde et
faire tout son possible pour la préserver⁴². and il en manque il faut tendre par
tout moyen, qu’il soit licite ou indigne (per aequa, per iniqua), à la rétablir parmi
les citoyens⁴³. À l’époque de l’Empire concordia fut idéologiquement liée au princeps⁴⁴. C’était lui qui personnifiait et éternisait l’idée de la concorde comme le fit
sans équivoque Vielius s’étant proclamé lui-même Concorde⁴⁵ et ce qu’exprimaient aussi les légendes monétaires — p.ex. concordia Augusta sur les monnaies
frappées sous Néron et concordia imperii sur les monnaies émises à l’époque du
Bas-Empire⁴⁶.
Néanmoins, contrairement à ce qu’on s’aendrait, le mot de concordia ne fut
que rarement lié dans la terminologie politique avec la notion de orbis (terrarum)⁴⁷. Il est de fait que la crise des années 67/68–69 eut comme résultat l’invocation fréquente dans le vocabulaire politique des protagonistes de l’époque du
terme de concordia. Acquière la valeur de document de l’époque dans ce domaine
³⁹ Morawiecki 2005, 138. Cf. Aug., CD, 3.25.
⁴⁰ Cic., Off., 2.78 ; Liv., 2.32.7 ; Tac., Hist., 4.1 ; Sen., Ben., 6.30.5 ; Publ., Sent., 4 et 289. Cf. Ovid., Fasti,
1.640–645.
⁴¹ Cic., Off., 1.85 ; 2.78 ; Verg., Ecl., 1.70–71 ; Sall., Iug., 42.4 ; Tac., Hist., 4.1.
⁴² Publ., Sent., 131 ; Sall., Iug., 10.6 ; Amm. Marc., 26.2.8.
⁴³ Liv., 2.32.7.
⁴⁴ Flor., 2.14.8 (4.3.8) ; Plin., Pan., 94.2.
⁴⁵ Suet., Vit., 15 ; Tac., Hist., 3.68.
⁴⁶ RIC, I², Nero, 48 ; VI, Siscia, 172–175, 186–188 ; Alexandria, p. 672 et nᵒ 52.
⁴⁷ Cf. Arnob., Nat., 1.6.3.
168
 . 
le témoignage des monnaies frappées par ceux qui furent engagés aux événements en cours ou prétendirent à la pourpre. Le terme de base (concordia) fut
enrichi d’expressions supplémentaires, empruntées à la sphère des associations
institutionnelles, militaires ou bien géographiques :
−
−
−
−
−
concordia Augusti⁴⁸,
concordia pR⁴⁹,
concordia praetorianorum⁵⁰,
concordia provinciarum⁵¹,
concordia Hispaniarum et Galliarum⁵².
Les termes employés étaient donc bien variés mais à l’exception de celui de
concordia orbis terrarum. Il convient d’y souligner encore une fois que ces deux
termes : concordia et orbis terrarum furent associés exclusivement dans le monnayage « anti-néronien » dans les Gaules. Et la devise ainsi conçue n’a aucune
analogie dans toute l’histoire du monnayage romain.
Ce n’est que dans l’Histoire Auguste, le recueil de biographies d’empereurs
romains, daté du déclin du IVᵉ siècle⁵³, qu’on peut trouver une certaine parallèle
au sujet du « denier anonyme ». Dans la Vita Probi, lors de la séance d’investiture
de l’empereur Probus (en 277), Manlius Statianus, prince du Sénat, a dit :
dis immortalibus gratias, et praeceteris, patres conscripti, Ioui Optimo 〈Maximo〉, qui
nobis principem talem qualem semper optabamus, dederunt. […] Iuppiter Optime
Maxime, Juno Regina tuque, uirtutum praesul, Minerua, tu, orbis Concordia, et tu, Romana Victoria, date hoc senatui populoque Romano, date militibus, date sociis atque
exteris nationibus : imperet quemadmodum militauit ! […] Post haec acclamatum est :
„Omnes, omnes”⁵⁴.
L’Histoire Auguste est une œuvre née à l’époque des conflits et tensions
idéologico-politiques tout en en constituant le miroir plus au moins trouble.
Mais le miroir où luisent également aussi bien les reflets des événements passés que ceux de certains topos de l’idéologie romaine. À de tels topos à l’époque
de l’Empire appartenait la pensée avançant l’équivalence de l’État romain et du
« monde ». L’Histoire Auguste est donc truffée de terme orbis (totius, terrarum),
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
⁵⁰
⁵¹
⁵²
⁵³
⁵⁴
RIC, I², Gal., 339–345, 380–384 ; Vit., 126, 133, 161, 162, 170, 171.
RIC, I², Vit., 66, 72, 73, 89–91.
RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 118 ; Vit., 19.
RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 119 ; Gal., 35, 49, 54, 104–108, 117–120, 125, 126, 149, 180–183.
RIC, I², Civ. Wars, 15.
Cf. p.ex. Rai 2010, 165–173.
SHA, Prob., 12.1 et 7–8.
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169
les prétentions à l’universalité de l’Empire ne manquent pas⁵⁵, et les souverains
y sont dénommés principes mundi⁵⁶. Aussi bien la teneur que le style de l’HA se
caractérisent parfois par des anachronismes, résultant du fait que l’auteur de l’HA
recourut aux ressources de la liérature de l’époque classique, utilisa et fit surgir
les associations parfois très éloignées par rapport aux événements décrits. Il en résulte que l’Histoire Auguste contient des allusions républicaines, vocabulaire classique, stylisation « archaïsante » ou tout simplement références dispersées dans
la totalité du texte, orientant notre aention (et celle des lecteurs précédents de
l’HA) à la tradition romaine lointaine. Parmi de telles inspirations « historiques »
il faut placer un fragment cité concernant le règne de Probus.
Manlius Statianus, personnage parfaitement inauthentique, commence son
discours par les remerciements pour la personne tellement digne de l’empereur ;
il les adresse aux dii immortales. Il invoque la Triade Capitoline en des termes
très proches de ceux qu’utilisent les auteurs classiques, p.ex. Tite-Live dans le
discours du fameux chef d’armée M. Manlius Capitolinus, défenseur historique
le Capitole contre les Gaulois an 390 av. J.-C. : Iuppiter, inquit, optime maxime
Iunoque regina ac Minerua ceterique di deaeque, qui Capitolium arcemque incolitis…⁵⁷. On constate que l’invocation de « Manlius Statianus » est réminiscence
de celle qu’utilise Cicéron dans son discours De domo sua : ocirca te, Capitoline, quem propter beneficia populus Romanus Optimum, propter vim Maximum
nominavit, teque, Iuno Regina, et te, custos urbis, Minerva⁵⁸. Certes, l’Arpinate était
l’un des auteurs classiques par excellence au IVᵉ siècle. L’ambiance cicéronienne
est très valable dans l’Histoire Auguste, et réminiscences moins ou plus claires,
« citations », paraphrases etc., sont ici si nombreuses. Dans la Vita Probi 12.7 la
notation n’est pas mécanique reprise. Le groupe de divinités du De domo sua 144
est completé par la Victoire romaine⁵⁹ et la Concorde du monde. Et c’est la question de la Concorde qui semble le lien commun entre cee parade de l’érudition
de l’auteur de l’HA et le récit détaillé du règne du IIIᵉ siècle.
L’Histoire Auguste expose dans le passage précité l’idée de la concorde et la
cohésion politique acquise dans l’affaire concrète. Concordia c’est une valeur importante dans les circonstances de reprise du pouvoir, affermissement de l’autorité ou du gouvernement déjà stable. Ce fut un certain idéal espéré, convoité
⁵⁵ SHA, Hadr., 5.1 ; 23.1 ; Ael., 2.1 ; 7.1 ; Sev., 14.5 ; Maxim., 23.5 ; Max. et Balb., 17.8 ; Gord., 7.3 ; 26.1 ;
27.10 ; 30.8 ; Val., 2.2 ; 5.1 ; 6.2 ; Gall., 5.6 ; 16.1 ; 17.9 ; Claud., 3.5 ; 6.3 ; Aur., 1.5 ; 26.7 ; 28.5 ; 32.4 ; 37.7 ;
40.4 ; 41.7 ; Tac., 2.2 ; 4.2 ; 15.2 ; 16.6 ; 18.2 ; Prob., 1.3 ; 10.9 ; 11.2 ; 18.2 ; 20.6 ; 22.2 ; Trig. tyr., 12.6 et 8 ;
adr. tyr., 5.3.
⁵⁶ SHA, Claud., 10.3 ; Prob., 11.2 ; Car., 18.4.
⁵⁷ Liv., 6.16.2. À propos de Manlius Capitolinus — Cic., Dom., 101 ; Flor., 1.17 (1.26.8) : Capitolii
vindex.
⁵⁸ Cic., Dom., 144. Chastagnol 1987, 912, 917–918 ; Paschoud 2001, 95–96, 98. L’invocation pareille
— Cic., Verr. II, 5.36 ; Liv., 3.17.3 ; 38.51.8 ; Tac., Hist., 4.53.
⁵⁹ Cf. SHA, Alex. Sev., 14.2. Est-ce qu’un écho très proche du problème de la Victoire de Curie
Julienne actuel au fin du IVᵉ siècle ?
170
 . 
par les participants à ce jeu politique. Tout en créant dans son histoire un événement se déroulant au seuil du règne de Probus, le biographe place l’Assemblée
sénatoriale au temple de la Concorde⁶⁰, étant dès le début de l’Empire un endroit
d’importance politico-dynastique exceptionnelle⁶¹. Le discours précité est couronné d’expression de l’unanimité de tous les présents à cee séance à l’égard
de la personne de Probus, ce qui constitue, évidemment, un élément traditionnel
des acclamations impériales décrites⁶², néanmoins dans ce cas-là encore une fois
dans ce fragment il accentue joliment l’idée de la concordia ou du consensus. Il s’y
trouve également de la place pour l’expression orbis Concordia, associant avec la
notion de orbis la Concorde, ici l’une des divinités évoquées, placée au même rang
que Jupiter très Bon, très Grand, Minerve protectrice des vertus, Junon reine et
Victoire romaine. L’épithète de la déesse Concorde : orbis, met l’accent sur l’aspect géo-politique et suggère que sa puissance causale et bienfaisante englobe
de son étendue le monde (romain) entier : Concorde universelle. Ce qui, par la
suite, coïncide avec l’éloge de Probus — d’un souverain digne, vaillant, juste, appelé d’une manière marquante : adsertor rei publicae ; donc : felix agas, feliciter
imperes !⁶³
Dans l’Histoire Auguste on a renoué avec l’épithète de la Concorde évoquée
conduisant aux associations avec l’époque précédant de plus de trois cents ans
celle de laquelle date cee œuvre et de plus de deux cents ans la situation décrite.
Il est difficile de juger si telle fut l’intention de l’auteur de l’HA. Il en est ainsi
puisque nous restons dans un vaste cercle des connotations politiques se référant
au domaine du pouvoir, de sa reconnaissance et, plus encore, de son acceptation, et ce dernier se déroule à travers un prisme de l’exaltation des mérites de
l’empereur romain.
Pourtant il est intéressant de savoir que Vindex lui-même ne fut pas apprécié
dans l’HA. On fit plusieurs mentions à son sujet, toujours sous un mauvais jour,
et ceci dans le contexte de la définition du mal généré et enraciné dans la bella
civilia et de l’évaluation des ambitions excessives des prétendants indignes de la
pourpre. Vindex appartient — paraît-il — au cercle des petits tyrans, minusculi
tyranni⁶⁴, proclamés empereurs par les soldats, de ceux, qui ayant été trop vite
tués, ne purent pas se couvrir de gloire ; ils ont disparus avant d’avoir eu le temps
⁶⁰ SHA, Prob., 11.5.
⁶¹ Cf. Ovid., Fasti, 1.640, 643–648 ; Suet., Tib., 20 ; Cass. Dio, 55.8.2 ; 56.25.1. Ce temple fut lieu des
séances du Sénat à la fin de la République — Cic., Phil., 2.8.19 ; 2.44.112 ; 3.12.31 ; 5.6.18 ; 5.7.20 ;
7.8.21 ; Sest., 26 ; Dom., 11 ; Sall., Cat., 3.46.5 ; 49.4 ; Fest., 470 L ; les auteurs installent des réunions
sénatoriales dans le temple de la Concorde ou le décorent la grande signification sous l’Empire —
p.ex. Suet., Vit., 15 ; Cass. Dio, 58.11.4 ; 78.1.4–5 ; SHA, Pert., 4.9 ; Alex. Sev., 6.2 ; Max. et Balb., 1.1.
⁶² SHA, Val., 5.4–8 ; Tac., 6.9–7.1.
⁶³ SHA, Prob., 11.7.
⁶⁴ SHA, adr. tyr., 1.1.
,   … 
171
de se faire connaître : voilà pourquoi l’on ne sait rien de Vindex⁶⁵. Ce ne fut
encore qu’une seule allusion à sa personne que contint l’avis prononcé sur les
Gaulois : ce sont les gens anxieux, traîtres, toujours assoiffés de créer un prince,
ou un empire⁶⁶. oiqu’il ne fût placé au même rang, Vindex se trouva dans
l’HA dans la galerie des personnages vilains, comme d’autres : Galba⁶⁷ et Néron⁶⁸.
Pourtant cee image de Vindex — dans le contexte de son programme étudié plus
profondément à travers les témoignages liéraires et les sources numismatiques
— paraît grotesque et injuste.
Bibliographie :
Bonneterre D., Nony D., 1973, Un denier romain inédit de la crise de 68–69 après J.-C., Bulletin de
la Société française de Numismatique 28, 384–385.
Brunt P.A., 1959, e Revolt of Vindex and the Fall of Nero, Latomus 18, 531–559.
Chastagnol A., 1987, Rencontres entre l’Histoire Auguste et Cicéron, Mélanges de l’École française
de Rome. Antiquité 99.2, 905–919.
Kraay C.M., 1949, e Coinage of Vindex and Galba, A.D. 68, and the Continuity of the Augustan
Principate, Numismatic Chronicle (ser. 6) 9, 129–149.
Martin P.-H., 1974, Die anonymen Münzen des Jahres 68 na Christus, Mainz.
Mastino A., 1986, Orbis, κόσμος, οἰκουμένη : aspei spaziali dell’idea di impero universale da Augusto a Teodosio, dans Popoli e spazio romano tra dirio e profezia, Napoli, 63–162.
Maingly H., 1914, e Coinage of the Civil Wars of A.D. 68–69, Numismatic Chronicle (ser. 4) 14,
110–137.
Morawiecki L., 2005, „Pax et Concordia” — polityczne i religijne aspekty personifikacji w republikańskim Rzymie, dans Religia i polityka w świecie antycznym, pod redakcją R. Sajkowskiego,
Ostróda, 132–156.
Mrozewicz L., 2010, Roman Empire during the Reign of the Flavians. Principal Trends of Development
and reats, Warszawa.
Murison Ch.L., 1993, Otho, Galba and Vitellius. Careers and Controversies, Hildesheim – Zürich –
New York.
Nicolas É.P., 1979, De Néron à Vespasien. Études et perspectives historiques suivies de l’analyse, du
catalogue, et de la reproduction des monnaies „oppositionnelles” connues des années 67 à 70, Paris.
Paschoud F., 2001, Commentaire de la Vita Probi, dans Histoire Auguste, V, 2 : Vies de Probus, Firmus,
Saturnin, Proculus et Bonose, Carus, Numérien et Carin, texte établi, traduit et commenté par
F. Paschoud, Paris, 43–168.
Raoss M., 1958, 1960, La rivolta di Vindice ed il successo di Galba, Epigraphica 20, 46–120 ; 22, 37–151.
Rai S., 2010, Un nouveau „terminus ante quem” pour l’Histoire Auguste, dans Historiae Augustae
Colloquium Genevense in honorem François Pasoud septuagenarii. Les traditions historiographiques de l’Antiquité tardive ; idéologie, propagande, fiction, réalité, a cura di L. Galli Milić,
N. Hecquet-Noti, Bari, 165–173.
Shoer D.C.A., 1975, A Time-table for the „Bellum Neronis”, Historia 24, 59–74.
⁶⁵ SHA, Pesc. Nig., 9.1–2 ; cf. Alex. Sev., 1.7 : Lucius (!) Vindex.
⁶⁶ SHA, adr. tyr., 7.1 et 13.4. Cf. Trig. tyr., 3.7.
⁶⁷ SHA, Avid. Cas., 8.5 ; Claud., 12.5.
⁶⁸ P.ex. SHA, M. Aur., 28.10 ; Ver., 1.8 ; 4.6 ; 10.8 ; Com., 19.2 ; Avid. Cas., 8.4 ; Clod. Alb., 13.5 et 8 ;
Hel., 1.1 ; 18.4 ; 31.5 ; 33.1 ; 34.1 ; Alex. Sev., 9.4 ; Aur., 42.6 ; Tac., 6.4.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
« DES BŒUFS SAUVAGES » — LES BISONS
D’EUROPE DANS LES BALKANS
DEPUIS L’INVASION DE XERXÈS JUSQU’AUX INVASIONS SLAVES*
J K
D
ans son récit de la traversée de la race par le roi perse Xerxès en 480
av. J.-C., Hérodote rapporte que, lorsque le roi fit route à travers la Païonie et la Crestonie (Paionikē kai Krestonikē), des lions aaquèrent les
chameaux qui transportaient les vivres, en laissant en paix les autres animaux
ainsi que les hommes. Cet événement est décrit en détail par l’historien grec qui
ajoute : Il y a dans ces régions beaucoup de lions et de bœufs sauvages qui ont de très
grandes cornes ; ce sont celles que l’on importe en Grèce¹. Le passage dans lequel il
est question de « bœufs sauvages » ne se rapporte aucunement à l’expédition de
Xerxès, il ne sert qu’à rendre véridique l’information sur des lions qui aaquent
les chameaux en race. Afin de légitimer ses propos, Hérodote évoque la présence sur ces terrains de « bœufs sauvages », ce que les Grecs savaient très bien,
car c’est cee région qui fournissait les immenses cornes de ces animaux. L’historien grec signale en outre que les « bœufs sauvages » et les lions peuplent le même
territoire et il définit avec précision les limites de la zone de présence des lions
en race. Ceci ne veut pas dire bien évidemment que cee zone correspondait
très exactement à celle occupée par les « bœufs sauvages ».
’étaient-ce ces « bœufs sauvages » aux cornes immenses présents en race,
sur lesquels les auteurs plus récents ont laissé aussi de nombreuses informations ?
éoriquement, il ne peut être question que de deux espèces d’animaux : bison
d’Europe (Bison bonasus L., en allemand « Wisent », en anglais « bison », en polonais « żubr », en russe « zubr »), appelé ainsi par opposition au bison d’Amérique²
et aurochs (Bos prmigenius Boj., en allemand « Ur », en anglais « aurochs », en polonais « tur »). Le dernier de ces animaux avait de très longues cornes, beaucoup
* Je tiens à remercier Mme Alicja Lasota-Moskalewska, archéozoologue, professeur à l’Institut
d’Archéologie de l’Université de Varsovie, et M. Marek Węcowski de l’Institut Historique de
l’Université de Varsovie pour leur précieuse aide pendant la rédaction du présent article.
¹ Hdt., 7.124–126 (trad. Legrand 1951, 7, 124).
² Krasińska et Krasiński 2007, 16–17. Sur les dénominations du bison d’Europe dans l’Antiquité,
voir Kolendo 2011 ; dans les langues modernes — Sztolcman 1924, 51 et 71.
173
174
 
plus grandes et de forme différente que celles du bison d’Europe. Cependant, il
ne fait pas de doute que le témoignage d’Hérodote concerne les bisons d’Europe³.
Aristote, qui s’efforce de donner une image exhaustive des phénomènes naturels,
décrit en détail cet animal observé en Païonie, dont les caractéristiques correspondent à celles du bison d’Europe. Dans ce récit, l’élément qui présente une
importance capitale pour l’identification de l’animal est le passage suivant : leurs
cornes sont recourbées, incurvées l’une vers l’autre et inutilisables pour la défense.
Aristote souligne aussi que la taille du bison c’est celle d’un toreau, mais il est plus
trapu qu‘un bovin car son corps n’est pas allongé. […] Il a l’aspect d’un bœuf, sauf
qu’il a une crinière qui va jusqu’à la pointe de l’épaule, comme le eval⁴.
Les données concernant le bison d’Europe fournies par Aristote peuvent être
tenues pour crédibles. En effet, la description de cet animal correspond à ce que
nous en savons aujourd’hui. Il ne faut pas oublier qu’Aristote, né à Stagire en
race, passa sa jeunesse à la cour du roi de Macédoine, ce qui explique sa bonne
connaissance de cee région.
Pline l’Ancien reprend les informations d’Aristote sur le bison d’Europe, en
évoquant l’animal de Païonie⁵ désigné du terme de bonasus, à crinière de eval, pour le reste ressemblant à un taureau ; aux cornes tellement contournées qu’il
ne peut s’en servir pour combare⁶. De même, le témoignage d’Oppien sur les
taureaux en race Bisthonienne (Bistonidos rékē)⁷ ne laisse aucun doute qu’il
s’agit du bison d’Europe. L’auteur de Cynegetica souligne aussi que les cornes de
bisons sont recourbées et incurvées l’une vers l’autre. Pausanias évoque la tête
en bronze du taureau de Païonie offerte au sanctuaire de Delphes par le roi des
Païoniens Dropion (IIIᵉ siècle av. J.-C.)⁸. Dans l’épigramme d’Adaios (Iᵉʳ siècle ap.
J.-C. ?) contenu dans l’Anthologia Palatina⁹, il est question d’un heureux chasseur
du nom de Peukestès qui, lors de d’une partie chasse en race, dans l’effrayant
vallon de Dobéros¹⁰, tua un gros animal, puis se vanta pendant les banquets d’un
trophée sous forme de cornes qui lui servaient à boire.
³ Il y aurait peut-être lieu de penser que l’information sur les énormes cornes importées en Grèce
concerne les aurochs dont les cornes sont effectivement beaucoup plus grandes que celles des bisons d’Europe. Toutefois, si cee hypothèse était vraie, il faudrait envisager une disparition fort
précoce de l’aurochs dans les Balkans (pendant la période entre l’époque d’Hérodote et celle d’Aristote), ce qui semble peu probable.
⁴ Arist., Hist. anim., 9.45 (630a) (trad. Louis 1969, 134–136). Aristote donne une information semblable dans De part. anim., 3.2.14 (663a).
⁵ RE, XVIII.2, 1942, col. 2403–2408 (L. Ziechen, s.v. Paiones) ; Spiridonov 1983, 90–93 ; Papazoglou
1988, 308–309.
⁶ Plin., NH, 8.40 (trad. d’Ernout 1952, 37).
⁷ Oppian., Cyneg., 2.160–175. Les Bisthoniens étaient installées sur le lioral thrace près de l’embouchure du Nestos, aux environs d’Abdère. RE, III.1, 1897, col. 504–505 (Oberhummer, s.v. Bistones) ; Spiridonov 1983, 24 et 78.
⁸ Paus., 10.13.1.
⁹ AP, 9.300.
¹⁰ Doberos — ville en Païonie, centre des Sitalces. Papasoglou,1988, 328–329.
«    » —   ’   
175
La découverte dans le nord-ouest de la Bulgarie, à Montana (nom moderne
aussi Montana), d’une inscription latine (publiée en 1987), érigée en 147, présente
un intérêt tout particulier pour les études sur la question de présence de bisons
dans les Balkans.
5
10
Dianae
Ti(berius) Claudius Ulpianu(s)
trib(unus) c(o)h(ortis) I Cili(cum) cum vexillationib(us) leg(ionum) I Ital(icae), XI Cl(audiae), class(is)
Fl(aviae) Mo(esiacae) ob venationem
Caesarianam iniunctam a Cl(audio) Saturnino leg(ato)
Aug(usti) pr(o) pr(aetore) ursis et visontibus prospere captis
aram consecravit Largo et Messallino co(n)s(ulibus) [a. 147]¹¹.
Il y est question de la chasse à l’ours et au bison d’Europe (ursi et visontes = bisontes) à laquelle participèrent des troupes militaires (vexillationes des légions) et
des marins de la floe. Ces derniers furent chargés du transport des animaux qui
sont expédiés par voie fluviale (le Danube) jusqu’à la mer Noire, puis par voie
maritime jusqu’à Rome. La chasse ordonnée par le gouverneur de la province
Moesia Inferior était désignée du terme de venatio Caesariana — chasse de César.
Les animaux qui furent tués devaient agrémenter les jeux organisés à l’amphithéâtre en avril 148, à l’occasion des ludi seculares — grand jubilé de 900 ans de
la fondation de Rome. C’est à ces mêmes festivités que se rapporte le témoignage
de Pausanias qui dit avoir vu à Rome des taureaux de Païonie¹². Il convient de
signaler à ce propos qu’à Montana même furent découverts des ossements du
bison d’Europe¹³. Par ailleurs, il existe un témoignages aestant la participation
de bisons dans les spectacles donnés dans un amphithéâtre en Mésie Inférieure.
L’inscription funéraire provenant de Tomis (aujourd’hui Constanţa en Roumanie)
se rapporte à un gladiateur tué dans la lue contre le « bœufs sauvages »¹⁴.
Il existe un autre témoignage très important qui aeste la présence de bisons
dans les Balkans après l’occupation de cee région par les Slaves. En effet, dans
un article publié dans une revue de vulgarisation scientifique polonaise, qui n’est
pas entré dans le circuit scientifique, Zofia Abramowiczówna aire l’aention
¹¹ AE 1987, 867 (cf. 1999, 1327) ; Velkov et Alexandrov 1987 ; 1988 ; Berard 1989 ; Devijver 1992 ;
Knoepfler 1999.
¹² Paus., 9.21.3 ; Knoepfler 1999.
¹³ Velkov et Alexandrov 1988, 275.
¹⁴ Robert 1940, 107, nᵒ 47 ; ISM, II.2, 340 (176).
176
 
sur un lemme de l’épigramme d’Adaios (Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C. ?) contenue dans le
manuscrit Palatinus 23 de l’Anthologia Palatina qui date du Xᵉ siècle¹⁵. Le taureau dont parle Adaios, tué en race, est désigné du terme de zombros. Il s’agit
de la version grecque du terme slave ząbrz, ząbr désignant le bison d’Europe
(en polonais żubr). On retrouve ce nom dans le toponyme polonais Zambrów¹⁶,
Zambrze, Zambrzec, Zambrzyce, Ząbrz, Ząbrze, Zembrów, Zembrz, Zembrzy¹⁷.
Le texte d’Adaios constitue ainsi un très précieux témoignage de la langue slave
dans la phase primitive de son évolution. Il est légitime de penser que les bisons
d’Europe étaient bien présents dans les Balkans au VIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C., à l’époque
qui vit apparaître des Slaves dans cee région. Ajoutons par ailleurs que de nombreux toponymes en Transylvanie et en Hongrie dérivent des noms slaves et hongrois du bison d’Europe¹⁸. La présence de cee espèce dans les régions situées au
nord du Danube¹⁹ et en Transylvanie s’est maintenue jusqu’à la seconde moitié
du XVIIIᵉ siècle²⁰.
***
Les sources aestent la présence de bisons d’Europe dans différentes régions
de race et de Macédoine. Ces animaux sont le plus souvent appelés « taureaux
de Païonie ». Selon Hérodote, ils apparaissent en Païonie (Paionikē) et en Crestonie (Krestonikē)²¹, tandis qu’Aristote les situe sur le mont Messapion qui sépare la Païonie du pays de Maides (Maidikē)²². Avec le temps, le nom de « taureau de Païonie », qui témoigne certes de l’origine des animaux peuplant les terrains montagneux de race, notamment la Païonie, devient le nom commun de
l’animal. Il existe d’autres informations sur la présence de bisons d’Europe en
race Bisthonienne (Bistonidos rékē)²³ et dans le pays montagneux des Dobères en race²⁴. L’inscription de Montana semble cependant prouver que les
bisons d’Europe étaient aussi présents en Mésie. Il y a donc lieu de penser que
ces animaux peuplaient toute la région entre la mer Egée et le Bas-Danube. Une
grande partie des textes cités aestent qu’en race les bisons d’Europe avaient
choisi comme habitat les terrains montagneux. A ce propos, il existe d’ailleurs
un témoignage fort éloquent d’Aristote selon qui, quand arrive la saison de mere
¹⁵ AP, 9.300 ; cf. Waltz 1928, XXXI–XLII.
¹⁶ Brückner 1993, 667 (s.v. żubr) ; Długosz-Kurczabowa 2005, 542 (s.v. ząb).
¹⁷ Słownik geograficzny 1897, sub voce.
¹⁸ Sur le bison en Transylvanie voir Nàhlik 1991 ; Krasińska et Krasiński 2007, 19–20.
¹⁹ Cf. le nom roumain d’origine slave de bison — zimbru. Mirska Lasota et Porawska 2009, 969.
²⁰ Les dates des dernières apparitions du bison d’Europe dans ces régions varient quelques peu
en fonction des auteurs. Sztolcman 1924, 88 ; Nàhlik 1991 ; Pucek 2004.
²¹ Spiridonov 1983, 92–93.
²² Arist., Hist. anim., 9.45 (630a).
²³ Oppian., Cyneg., 2.160–175.
²⁴ AP, 9.300.
«    » —   ’   
177
bas, les femelles s’assemblent dans les montagnes pour faire leurs petits²⁵. Ce qui
prouve que les bisons que l’on rencontrait dans les Balkans vivaient dans le milieu
montagnard, tout comme les bisons du Caucase. Ces animaux donc sans doute
différents du bison typique des plaines, qui a survécu dans le domaine forestier
de Białowieża en Pologne. Cee information devrait être étudiée plus en détail
par les zoologues²⁶.
***
Après cee brève présentation des sources relatives à la présence du bison
d’Europe dans les Balkans, penchons-nous sur le problème des rapports entre
ces animaux et l’homme. Cee espèce faisait l’objet de la chasse difficile et dangereuse, ce qui devait augmenter l’arait de cee activité aux yeux des races.
Compte tenu des risques liés à cee pratique, il est possible de dire qu’il s’agissait
— pour employer un terme contemporain — d’un sport extrême. La possibilité de
faire preuve de force et de courage ainsi que le succès remporté lors de parties de
chasse — succès illustré par le trophée : les cornes — permeaient à l’individu de
se distinguer et d’obtenir une forte position au sein du groupe. Symbole du succès,
très appréciées, les cornes servaient de récipients à boire. Il s’agissait d’un trophée
de chasse très recherché. L’épigramme d’Adaios d’Anthologie Palatine évoque un
heureux chasseur qui, pendant les banquets, se vante de son trophée, la corne qui
lui sert à boire²⁷.
La chasse à l’aurochs (uri) en Germanie, décrite par César d’après une source
plus ancienne, revêt des formes semblables²⁸. Activité périlleuse, elle peut être
couronnée de succès grâce à une tactique, à savoir : construction de pièges, de
grandes fosses dans lesquelles les animaux tombent et peuvent être tués plus facilement. César insiste sur le fait que la chasse à l’aurochs est alors considérée
comme épreuve permeant d’endurcir les jeunes. La prise d’un grand nombre
d’animaux et, ce qui s’ensuit, la prise de cornes contribue à augmenter le renom
du chasseur. Le récit de César contient aussi une information sur les énormes
cornes d’aurochs, très appréciées par les Germains. Décorées d’argent sur les
bords, les cornes d’aurochs servaient de coupes à boire pendant les banquets. Le
matériel archéologique ne fait que confirmer cee pratique. En effet, les riches
tombes du Barbaricum ont livré un grand nombre de pièces métalliques servant
à décorer les cornes à boire²⁹. On s’accorde généralement sur le fait que ces récipients étaient fabriqués à partir de cornes d’aurochs et de bison d’Europe.
²⁵ Arist., Hist. anim., 9.45 (630a).
²⁶ Sur hypothétique Bison bonasus hungaricus Kretzoi 1946 voir Krasińska et Krasiński 2007, 18–20
et la liérature qui y est citée.
²⁷ AP, 9.300.
²⁸ Caes., BG, 6.28.
²⁹ Andrzejowski 1991, 7–120. Garnitures des cornes à boire — 43–52 ; Kolendo 2011, 131 et fig. 3.
178
 
La chasse au bison d’Europe, aussi bien dans son aspect éducatif (exercices
physiques) que dans son aspect social (prestige), est très étroitement liée à la
question économique. Hérodote rapporte que les immenses cornes de « boeufs
sauvages » étaient acheminées vers la Grèce³⁰. Il s’agissait donc d’un produit importé de race. Les cornes étaient sans doute utilisées au cours de symposions
comme d’énormes récipients à boire qui devaient être vidés aussitôt, car il était
impossible de les poser³¹.
Cee pratique est aestée dans l’épigramme d’Adaios (Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C. ?). Cependant il est difficile de trancher la question de savoir s’il s’agit d’une tradition
thrace ou grecque. Les sources relatives aux symposions en Grèce ne donnent
aucune précision sur l’utilisation de cornes de bisons d’Europe en guise de récipients à boire, mais il est possible d’y trouver de nombreuses informations sur les
énormes récipients servant à boire du vin et sur les récipients qu’il fallait vider
aussitôt après les avoir remplis. Un indice indirect concernant l’utilisation à cee
fin de cornes de bisons d’Europe est fourni par Aristote qui rapporte que la longueur des cornes de cet animal était d’un spitame (22 cm) ou un peu plus, tandis
que leur volume était d’un hemichous (1,64 l. ou, selon un autre calcul, 1,36 l.)³².
Les données relatives au volume des cornes de bisons d’Europe, que l’on a du mal
à trouver dans la liérature zoologique contemporaine, devaient être évidentes
pour les Anciens qui se servaient de ces récipient pour boire.
En termes économiques, les bisons d’Europe furent très appréciés non seulement pour leurs cornes mais aussi pour leur viande et la peau. Aristote rapporte
en effet que la viande de bison d’Europe est bonne et que c’est une des raisons
pour lesquelles on le chasse³³. Le grand naturaliste donne aussi deux indications
indirectes concernant les peaux de bison, ce qui prouve qu’elles furent aussi utilisées. Dans un des passages, l’auteur dit que son cuir résiste au coup, ce qui semble
signifier qu’il est dur. La seconde information est quelque peu énigmatique. La
peau de bison tendue recouvre la surface d’un heptaklinon. Les traducteurs sont
d’avis qu’il s’agit d’un lit pour sept personnes, mais il est impossible d’admere
cee explication. Il est probable qu’il s’agit d’un synonyme du terme technique
heptaklinos oikos qui désigne la salle de banquet, en rapport avec le symposion,
aux dimensions traditionnelles : carré de 5 m de côté, déterminées par les dimensions de la kliné. Il y a lieu de penser que la salle servant à cet effet était décorée
de peaux de bison d’Europe³⁴.
³⁰ Hdt., 7.124.
³¹ Węcowski (sous presse). Je tiens à remercier M. Marek Węcowski qui m’a autorisé à consulter
la version dactylographiée de son ouvrage.
³² Arist., Hist. anim., 9.45 (630a). Les différentes conversions des mesures grecques du volume —
Wipszycka 2001, 580–581.
³³ Arist., Hist. anim., 9.45 (630a).
³⁴ Cee interprétation m’a été suggérée par Marek Węcowski.
«    » —   ’   
179
Lorsque les provinces balkaniques intégrèrent l’État romain, l’intérêt à l’égard
des bisons d’Europe persiste, mais pour une toute autre raison. Le bison continue à être chassé pour satisfaire aux besoins d’amphithéâtres et le commerce des
animaux sauvages utilisés dans les venationes devient une véritable affaire d’état. Malgré la chasse intensive, le bison survit dans les Balkans jusqu’aux temps
modernes, tandis que dans les pays du bassin méditerranéen, mentionné par certaines sources dans les Pyrénées³⁵ et dans les Alpes orientales³⁶, il disparaît déjà
dans l’Antiquité. e le bison d’Europe ait pu survivre dans les Balkans jusqu’au
XVIIIᵉ siècle s’explique par le fait qu’il peuplait les terrains montagneux et forestiers, difficiles d’accès. En dehors des Balkans, le bison d’Europe vivait aussi
en Europe centrale. Menacée de disparition au début du XXᵉ siècle, l’espèce fut
sauvée grâce aux efforts entrepris en Pologne après la Première Guerre Mondiale. L’histoire du bison d’Europe dans la perspective de longue durée mérite
certainement d’être étudiée.
Bibliographie :
Abramowiczówna Z., 1976, „Zambros” [en polonais], Filomata 300–301, 71–77.
Andrzejowski J., 1991, Okucia rogów do picia z młodszego okresu przedrzymskiego i okresu wpływów rzymskich w Europie środkowej i północnej (próba klasyfikacji i analizy
chronologiczno-terytorialnej), Materiały Starożytne i Wczesnośredniowieczne 6, 7–120.
Berard F., 1989, La cohorte I Cilicum, la classis Flavia Moesica et les vexillations de l’armée de Mésie
Inférieure : à propos de’une inscription de Montana, Zeitsri ür Papyrologie und Epigraphik
79, 129–138.
Brückner A., 1993, Słownik etymologiczny języka polskiego, Warszawa.
Devijver H., 1992, Bears and Bizons and the Roman Army, dans H. Devijver, e Equestian Officers
of the Imperial Army, II, Stugart (Mavors, IX), 140–147.
Długosz-Kurczabowa K., 2005, Słownik etymologiczny języka polskiego, Warszawa.
Ernout A. (éd.), 1952, Pline l’Ancien, Histoire Naturelle, Livre VIII, texte établi, traduit et commenté
par A. Ernout, Paris.
Knoepfler D., 1999, Pausanias à Rome en l’an 148 ?, Revue des Études Grecques 112, 485–509.
Kolendo J., 2011, Antiquity’s Problems with the Names for Aurochs and Bison, dans Birthday Beats’
Book. Cultural Studies in Honour of Jerzy Axer, Warszawa, 121–132.
Krasińska M., Krasiński Z.A., 2007, e European Bison : A Nature Monograph, Białowieża.
Legrand Ph.-E. (éd.), 1951, Hérodote, Histoires, livre VII, texte établi et traduit par Ph.-E. Legrand,
Paris.
Mirska Lasota H., Porawska J., 2009, Wielki słownik rumuńsko-polski, Kraków.
Louis P. (éd.), 1969, Aristote, Histoire des animaux, III : Livres VIII–X, texte établi et traduit par
P. Louis, Paris.
Náhlik A., 1991, W sprawie transylwańskiego żubra, Sylwan 135.11, 63–68.
Papasoglou F., 1988, Les Villes de Macedoine à l’époque romaine, Paris.
Pucek Z., 2004, European Bison — History of the Flagship Species, dans Essays of Mammals of
Białowieża Forest, éd. B. Jędrzejewska, J.M. Wójcik, Białowieża.
Robert L., 1940, Les Gladiateurs dans l’Orient grec, Paris (repr. Amsterdam 1971).
Słownik geograficzny 1897 — Słownik geograficzny Królestwa Polskiego i inny Krajów Słowiański,
XIV, Warszawa.
³⁵ Scholies de Virgile ad Georg., 2.374.
³⁶ Strab., 4.6.10 ; Paul. Diac., Hist. Long., 2.8.
180
 
Spiridonov T., 1983, Istoričeska geografija na trakijskite plemena do III v. pr.n.e. Atlas 1.2 [Rés :
Historise Geographie der thrakisen Stämme bis zum 3. Jh. v. u. Z.], Sofija.
Sztolcman J., 1924, Materiaux pour l’histoire naturelle et pour l’historique du Bison d’Europe (Bison
bonasus Linn.), Annales zoologici Musei Polonici Historiae Naturalis 2, 49–136.
Velkov V., Aleksandrov G., 1987, Eine Inschri aus Montana (Untermoesien) mit venatio Caesariana, dans Actes du IX Congrès International d’Epigraphie grecque et latine, I, Sofia (Acta Centri
Historiae, Terra antiqua Balcanica, II), 279–285.
Velkov V., Aleksandrov G., 1988, Venatio Caesariana. Eine neue Inschri aus Montana (Moesia
Inferior), Chiron 18, 271–277.
Węcowski M., (sous presse), Symposion, czyli wspólne picie. Początki greiej biesiady arystokratycznej.
Waltz P. (éd.), 1928, Anthologie grecque. Première partie. Anthologie Palatine, I, texte établi et traduit
par P. Walz, Paris.
Wipszycka E., 2001, Metrologia, dans Vademecum Historyka Starożytnej Grecji i Rzymu, I/II : Źródłoznawstwo starożytności klasycznej, praca zbiorowa pod redakcją E. Wipszyckiej, ²Warszawa,
573–586.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
KERES AND MUSES ON THE BATTLEFIELD
THE MECHANISM BY WHICH SONG AROSE
IN THE OLDEST GREEK TRADITIONS
L K
T
here would seem to be lile to connect the Muses — gentle divine beings, from whose mouths came songs praising the deeds of war — with
the repulsive Keres, who hovered over balefields in search of wounded
soldiers. Surprisingly, however, these beings form a symbolic continuum. As the
above observation implies, it is the balefield which was the meeting place of
the Keres and Muses, although the beings never communed directly. According
to the oldest Greek records, the function of the Keres was to watch over dying
warriors and carry them off to Hades,¹ while the Muses’ role involved remembering detailed information about the military achievements of individual leaders, as
well as the deeds of the army as a whole (plethus). e Keres delivered the fallen,
and so contributed to the multiplication of “immortal deeds”, while the Muses
helped poets to describe those deeds with precision. As Homer stated, the poets
might hear only of the glory (kleos), and hence generalized information stored in
the imperfect human memory, concerning past military achievements.²
e second book of Homer’s Iliad is important in determining the connection between the Keres and the Muses. It is in that book that the black Ker first
appears.³ As Heiden showed, the famous Catalogue of Ships,⁴ which Homer is
supposed to have created based on information supplied by the Muses, has the
form of a lament, as is shown chiefly by the empty black ships which appear in
the description.⁵ Hence the Muses are singing about warriors who were carried
off to Hades by the Keres.
¹ E.g. Hom., Il., 11.332; 23.78–79; Od., 14.207.
² Hom., Il., 2.486; kleos, see e.g. Dodds 1951, 80–82; Pucci 1998, 36–47; Heiden 2008, 133–135; Segal
1989, 334.
³ Hom., Il., 2.859.
⁴ As many scholars have pointed out, the Catalogue of Ships is adapted from a separate composition, see Heiden 2008, 127–128.
⁵ Hom., Il., 2.484–493; black ships: e.g. 2.524, 534, 545; Heiden 2008, 149.
181
182
 
e first precise description of the acts of the Keres is found in the 18th book of
the Iliad. e blood-splaered Ker drags wounded warriors by the feet.⁶ Hesiod
described the Keres as significantly more repulsive beings, because they not only
pressed their huge talons (ὄνυξ) into soldiers’ bodies and threw them about, but
also drank their blood.⁷ It is especially significant that they had jaws full of gnashing white fangs: λευκοὺς ἀραβεῦσαι ὀδόντας, which bring to mind the action of
devouring.⁸ It seems that these fangs and claws were the Keres’ weapons, because
they were not ascribed traditional elements of weaponry and it was not suggested
that they killed with soldiers’ arms. e depiction of the Keres with fangs was a
durable one, because such a being was observed by Pausanias on the chest of
Cypselus at Olympia, dated 580–570 BC.⁹ is Ker was depicted with the hooked
claws and teeth of a wild animal (θηρίον).¹⁰ Further evidence of the functioning
of such an image of the “daughters of Night” is provided by images on vases from
the Geometric period, where the Keres take the form of lions carrying the bodies
of the fallen to Hades. For this reason the Keres are identified with the Sphinxes,
which were commonly depicted on graves.¹¹ Aeschylus called the Sphinx “a Ker
which seizes men” (harpaxandra Kēr),¹² which suggests an association with an
animal’s captured prey. e Keres are also identified with the Gorgons, who are
known to have been shown with the open jaws of a wild animal, filled with fangs
and with an extended tongue. e comparison of Ker with Gorgon is certainly not
without foundation, as Vernant has shown a Gorgon to depict a warrior gripped
by the fury of bale.¹³
It was not only the Keres that “devoured” warriors. Hesiod gives an analogous description of the “Darkness of Death” (Alus): pale, emaciated by hunger,
dust-covered, it bared its enormous claws, while pus flowed from its nostrils and
blood dripped from its cheeks onto the ground.¹⁴ Although the Keres in Homer’s
description do not have fangs, the idea of “devouring” soldiers was known to the
poet. Patroclus says that on the day of his birth, a Ker spread her jaws around
him.¹⁵ We also know from Homer that Hera, greedy for havoc and bale, was
accused by Zeus of wanting to satisfy her anger with previously “devoured”
⁶ Hom., Il., 18.535–540; 18.535-538 and Hes., Sc., 156–159 as philological problem, see e.g. Irvine
1997, 39–40.
⁷ Hes., Sc., 156–159, 249–263.
⁸ Hes., Sc., 160, 249; Redfield 1994, 183–186.
⁹ Hurwit 1985, 230.
¹⁰ Paus., 5.19.6.
¹¹ Irvine 1997, 40; Burton 2005, 55.
¹² Aesch., eb., 777; Vernant 1992, 103.
¹³ Vernant 1992, 95, 115, 113–138.
¹⁴ Hes., Sc., 264–270.
¹⁵ Hom., Il., 23.78–79; Burton 2005, 56.
     
183
(βιβρώσκω) Trojans.¹⁶ Hence the goddess intended to finish the enemy not with a
soldier’s weapons, but with fangs and claws. Indeed the polemos — the principal
representation of war in the Iliad — has jaws (πτολέμοιο μέγα στόμα),¹⁷ whose
existence is also suggested by Pindar’s ascribing to war a daughter called Alala,
personifying a war cry — which comes from the mouth. Importantly, a deed of
war was regarded as a bloody sacrifice offered to her,¹⁸ which suggests an association with the sacrificial feast, and hence with the function of eating.
e jaws into which a soldier vanishes naturally suggests an association with
the animal world. It is wrong, though, to see here merely a simple analogy with
dogs or birds tearing at the bodies lying on balefields.¹⁹ e association with
the animal world itself can undoubtedly be explained by referring to the popular
view among the Greeks, known even to Homer, that animals fight regular bales
among themselves, not very different from human bales.²⁰ Indeed animals surpassed humans in this field, as their weapons are natural rather than artificially
manufactured.
However, it does not seem that an association with the animal world is sufficient to provide a full resolution of this problem. We should rather reject the
idea that the Greek authors who described the grim Keres with fang-filled jaws
merely wished to give a description of a horrific death on the balefield. ere
was another reason why the jaws or mouth (stoma) was an exceptionally important place. It should be emphasized that it was from the mouths of the Muses that
the song would come glorifying the military acts of soldiers fallen in bale. According to Hesiod, the song flowed from them without interruption (ἀκάματος).²¹
Hence it is clear that the “devouring” of warriors and the lament constituted a
continuum. We note that the invention of the aulos was ascribed to the goddess
of war, Athena, who obtained the sound of the instrument by playing the lament
of the Gorgons. Pindar writes that this lament was a song which flowed from the
mouths of the sisters of Medusa and the jaws of the hideous snakes which grew
on their heads.²² Of course the Muses did not personally devour the warriors,
and so a soldier would go into one divine mouth, while his name would emerge
from another divine mouth. From a symbolic standpoint the place into which a
warrior vanished is the same as the place from which there emerged the wail of
mourning and later the song glorifying his military deeds.
¹⁶
¹⁷
¹⁸
¹⁹
²⁰
²¹
²²
Hom., Il., 4.34–36.
Hom., Il., 10.8; 19.313.
Pind., Fr., 78.2–3 (Snell); Currie 2005, 238.
Redfield 1994, 185.
Hom., Il., 20.170; 13.474; Arist., Part. an., 661b; Plut., De soll. an., 10; Ael., Nat. an., 6.1.
Hes., ., 39.
Pind., Pyth., 12.
184
 
Sound played a fundamental role in military depictions, because armed bale
was associated chiefly with the noise produced by the striking of metal parts of
weapons, shouts and groans.²³ Onomatopoeic references to the sounds of nature,
including animals, were frequently made.²⁴ In the oldest literary records shouts,
groans and other sounds produced orally during armed conflict were associated
above all with divine beings, who oen personified them (e.g. Eris, Homados, Kydoimos). e word kleos denoting military glory belonged to the world of sounds,
being derived from the verb kluein, “hear”.²⁵ e sound of clanging weapons and
breaking spears might bring to mind the crunching of captured prey in the jaws
of a wild animal. e Greeks believed that lions would bite the earth at the moment of death, and this has literary provenance, since this is how warriors were
depicted, as Homer records.²⁶
To summarize the foregoing analysis, it can be concluded that the connection between the Keres and Muses, undoubtedly constituting a continuum, is expressed through the oral act. e Keres, devouring dying warriors, represent that
which is earthly, material, ugly and transient, while the Muses produce the fare
of the Keres transformed into idealized reports, which the poet will enclose in
masterful literary form — hence they become the carriers of that which is noble,
spiritual, beautiful and everlasting. In singing the praises of those who fought,
made permanent in song, they give them a kind of immortality for which it is
worth sacrificing one’s earthly life on a cruel balefield.
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     
185
Segal Ch., 1989, Song, Ritual, and Commemoration in Early Greek Poetry and Tragedy, Oral Tradition 4/3, 330–359.
Vernant J.-P., 1992, Mortals and Immortals. Collected Essays, editor F. I. Zeitlin, Princeton.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE CYCLOPEAN WALLS OF RHIZON
POLISH ARCHAEOLOGICAL EXCAVATIONS IN 2001–2010
AND HEINRICH RICHLÝ’S 19TH CENTURY REPORT
T K
A
rchaeologists led by Piotr Dyczek from the Antiquity of Southeastern
Europe Research Centre, University of Warsaw have been excavating
sites in the territory of the historical Illyrian kingdom since 2001.¹ One
of the most important centres of the kingdom was the Greek and Hellenistic Rhizon, Roman Risinium, modern Risan, which lies today within the borders of the
Republic of Montenegro (fig. 1).² e town sprang up sometime in the 6ᵗʰ century BC, but gained in importance in the 4ᵗʰ,³ peaking in the 3ʳᵈ century BC under
the rule of een Teuta who established her capital here. Her conflict with the
Roman Republic in 229–228 BC, known to historians as the first Illyrian war,
ended with her defeat.⁴ Illyria became a Roman province in 168 BC, aer the last
Illyrian king Gentios lost his power.⁵
Two of the most important archaeological discoveries made in Rhizon to date
included the so-called Villa of Hypnos and the Villa of the Meanders, two architectural complexes with characteristic mosaic floor decoration,⁶ as well as a hoard
of 4.656 bronze coins of King Ballaios,⁷ discovered in 2010 in a pot hidden under
the floor of one the rooms uncovered in one of the insulae of the Hellenistic town
(Carine VII).⁸ Work is continued on a plateau by the Špila river in an aempt to
determine the extent of the ancient lower town.
¹ e team running the archaeological excavations in Risan is led by Prof. Piotr Dyczek and
includes Janusz Recław, Martin Lemke and Tomasz Kowal, all from the University of Warsaw.
² On the excavations, see: Dyczek 2004, 101–118, Pls. XXIV–XXVII; Dyczek 2007, 121–139, Pls.
XIX–XX.
³ Scyl.-Ps., Per., 24–25.
⁴ On the circumstances leading to the conflict and the actual war, see: Pol., 2.2–12.
⁵ Liv., 45.26.
⁶ Dyczek 2009a, 51–63.
⁷ More on King Ballaios, see Ciołek 2011, 7–110.
⁸ Ciołek 2011 (forthcoming).
187
188
 
e first archaeological research in Risan
was carried out in 1878 by Arthur Evans,⁹
later discoverer of the Minoan palace
in Knossos on Crete.¹⁰ Not quite twenty
years later the site was visited by Heinrich, or to be more precise Jindřich, Richlý (1839–1907), a Czech subject of the
Austro-Hungarian Empire and chief conservator of ancient monuments in Vienna from 1891.¹¹ In 1898 he published
his observations from a trip around the
Boka Kotorska bay made in the 1890s
in a Vienna-based journal.¹² He also deFig. 1: Location of Risan (Montenegro) scribed and made a cast of a fragmentary
(drawn by M. Różycka).
Greek inscription mentioning Medaurus.¹³
Of greatest significance, however, were his geographical descriptions and topographical observations.¹⁴ In his description of the site, Richlý drew aention to
a stone structure on the river bank, which he called a Cyclopean wall and proceeded to describe in considerable detail. He believed these remains to be the sole
noteworthy ancient architectural remains in Rhizon¹⁵. is wall was constructed
of huge well-fied stone blocks (fig. 2).¹⁶
e importance of Richlý’s report lies in its description of a situation predting
massive industrial changes that altered the face of Risan once the sawmill was
installed in Carine. Polish archaeological research in the area described by Richlý
has given interesting results when compared to the late 19ᵗʰ century observations
of the Czech researcher, especially with regard to the Cyclopean walls.
e Cyclopean wall discovered by the Polish team was a polygonal construction of limestone blocks with some parallels in other Illyrian towns, such as Meteon, Olcinium, Scodra, Lissos,¹⁷ and also Byllis and Apollonia.¹⁸ Historical data
from the region give reason for a cautious dating of the Cyclopean fortifications
of Rhizon to the 5ᵗʰ and 4ᵗʰ century BC.¹⁹
⁹
¹⁰
¹¹
¹²
¹³
¹⁴
¹⁵
¹⁶
¹⁷
¹⁸
¹⁹
Evans 1884, 39–52.
Murray 1999, 211–219; Wilkes 2006, 14.
Šlechtová and Levora 2004, 252.
Richlý 1898, 143–152.
Kubitschek 1903, 170–173; Dyczek et al. 2011 (forthcoming).
Richlý 1898, 145–152.
Richlý 1898, 147.
Parnicki-Pudełko 1975, 30–31.
Garašanin 1967, 29–30.
Wilkes 1992, 130–136.
Dyczek 2009b, 11–12.
    
189
Fig. 2: Fragment of the cyclopean wall (photo by J. Recław).
According to Richlý, Risan in the late 19ᵗʰ century was divided into an inhabited eastern part and an open part to the west, the two separated by the Špila river²⁰
which sprang from a cave of the same name. e water came from underground
sources, a dripstone cave and rising spring, as well as from surface waters; as a
maer of fact, karstic phenomena are well aested in the entire area of the Boka
Kotorska bay.²¹ A flat lowland about 6 ha in area lay west of the river. e local
name Carine refers to the customs, meaning a tollgate which existed here during
Turkish times.
Richlý divided the area of interest into nine fields and mapped them, but without using any measuring instruments, hence the overall inaccuracy of his plan
(fig. 3).²² Only fields VII and VIII were situated east of the river, the rest being west
of the Špila. Six of these (I, II, III, IV, VII, VIII) were at an elevation of 0,30–0,50 m
above sea level, while the remaining three (V, VI and IX) were a meter higher,
that is, 1,30–1,50 m above sea level, testifying to the possibility of ancient remains
being concealed underground. Already in Richlý’s time Carine was intersected
by a road which reached the base of the Gradine hill, the old acropolis of Rhizon,
towering over the plateau.²³
²⁰
²¹
²²
²³
Richlý 1898, 145–146.
Magaš 2002, 69–71.
Richlý 1898, 145.
Richlý 1898, 145–146.
190
 
Fig. 3: Plan of Carine aer H. Richlý, showing the location of the Cyclopean wall.
e huge stone wall was located in field V at an elevation of 1,30–1,50 m a.s.l.
From a solid stone bridge standing on two pillars (m) Richlý saw a massive stone
structure () to the north and on the banks of the Špila river (ll).²⁴ Excavations
have largely confirmed the Czech scholar’s observations, tracing in the field the
course of the fortifications of Greek and Hellenistic Rhizon. Beside analysing
Evans’ and Richlý’s reports, archaeologists conducted geophysical prospection
and consulted aerial and satellite photos.²⁵ Underwater surveying was also carried out in search of traces of submerged defences.²⁶ Archaeological testing then
helped to verify a hypothetical plan of the town walls, arrangement of towers,
gates, main streets as well as surviving sections of a Cyclopean fortifications.²⁷
Richlý reported the wall as being 150 strides long, which is approximately
100–120 m and 24 m (sic) high once. It began at the modern stone bridge (m),
where a corner of the structure is still standing. e western section of the wall,
which ran alongside the road, turned at right angles to the north (). Further
on it turned again perpendicularly to come 2 m () closer to the water, then ran
alongside the river toward the cave, although Richlý could not see where it ended. Richlý then went on to explain that the massive stone structure was what
remained of a Cyclopean wall built along Old Greek lines and informed that the
preserved section in his time measured 12 m in length. e wall ran into the river
and the stone blocks were washed and polished smooth by the waters. e preserved height was 1,80 m, the two lower courses of blocks, that is, the top of the
²⁴
²⁵
²⁶
²⁷
Richlý 1898, 146.
Herbich 2009, 95–108.
Karpiński 2011 (forthcoming).
Dyczek 2007, 132–133.
    
191
Fig. 4: Plan of the Carine VII sector with a mapping of excavated sections of the
cyclopean wall (drawn by P. Dyczek and R. Karpiński).
foundation, each having 0,75 m in height. e third course of blocks on top of it
was 0,30 m high.²⁸ Recent excavations have confirmed Richlý’s observations, especially regarding the course of the walls, although not their construction. Polish
researchers believe the walls were only 10–12 m high. Trenches in Richlý’s field
V, which is located in sector Carine VII, opened in 2004 and continued ever since,
have already contributed data on the Cyclopean wall (fig. 4). e short section
still visible in the waters of the Špila river was investigated, although a modern
walkway on top of the wall remains has made excavations technically difficult
at best. e excavated remains proved to be 5 m wide. A contemporaneous road
of large slabs was discovered next to these walls. e buildings southwest of the
street comprised a series of rectangular storerooms. ose on the opposite side
²⁸ Richlý 1898, 147.
192
 
were clearly differentiated, ranging from domestic to habitational,²⁹ and it is in
one of the rooms here that the hoard of coins issued by King Ballaios was discovered.³⁰ Seven seasons of fieldwork in Carine VII have cleared the inner face of
the Cyclopean wall, preserved not higher than 1.5 m. e face was made of huge
limestone blocks measuring 0,90/1,00 x 0,55/0,60 x 0,60/0,75 m, perfectly fied in a
polygonal bond. e outer surface of the ashlars was roughly dressed and slightly
convex, the backs le undressed. ree sections of the wall were traced. Of these,
the western one, which reached the road, was a huge western tower. e eastern
section observed in the river comprised the eastern tower, which was 5 m wide,
and a section of the wall itself 2,9 m wide.³¹
Richlý informed that the Cyclopean wall was meant primarily to protect the
water source springing from the Špila cave and that later a necropolis was located on Carine within the perimeter of these walls.³² is conclusion was totally
unfounded, as the wall was a fortification par excellence, designed to protect the
town from enemies. e river which flowed alongside the walls was used by the
original builders as an additional obstacle, as well as conveniently ensuring a
supply of water.
Regarding the issue of the cemetery, Richlý believed the wall to have bordered a cemetery that the inhabitants located on Carine in the Roman period,
once this part of the town was abandoned.³³ Polish excavations have indeed localized graves inside the cyclopean wall, right next to it and in the center of the
ancient town. Inhumation burials were discovered by the face of the wall and
aligned with it. ey were box graves constructed with the use of large rooiles.
e stratigraphy as well as characteristic features of the rooiles pointed to a late
Roman date for the burials, starting from about the 4ᵗʰ century AD. e necropolis was located in a deserted area of the town. e Cyclopean walls, which had
been raised most probably in the 5ᵗʰ–4ᵗʰ century BC, were reused as a cemetery
perimeter wall. In view of its definitely earlier origins, in no way could this wall
have been Richlý’s enclosure wall protecting the cemetery from flooding by the
Špila river.
e section of wall by the path running on the south side of the Špila river
near the stone bridge could have been a corner tower. It lies at the junction of
Richlý’s fields I and V, at a point where the elevation of the ground differs substantially between fields as described above. It could also represent a corner in the
defences with the additional wall turning off at right angles meant to protect the
strict town centre with the agora. An elevated location would have contributed
²⁹
³⁰
³¹
³²
³³
Dyczek 2009b, 17.
Ciołek 2011 (forthcoming), on the circumstances of the discovery, Kowal 2010, 46–48.
Dyczek 2007, 129; Dyczek 2009b, 16–17.
Richlý 1898, 146–147.
Richlý 1898, 147.
    
193
to the official character of the agora. An additional wall defending this “heart” of
the town would have ensured greater safety and made this inner part of Rhizon,
already protected on the north and west by the Gradine hill, practically impenetrable. More excavations are necessary in order to prove or disprove either of
these theories.
Richlý’s observations from the Carine area as it looked in the late 19ᵗʰ century are invaluable also for another reason. Soon aer the Czech’s visit, most of
the described area became industrialized. A sawmill was built in Carine and a
harbour was located at the mouth of the Špila river. Richlý visited the area at
least ten times and his notes are detailed and precise, as proved by the present
archaeological excavations. His remarks can be assumed as being reliable on the
whole, despite a few errors and some misjudgement. Richlý is first to state that
his finds and observations regarding Risan are not complete, echoing perhaps
a desire for further exploration when he writes that regular excavations have a
beer opportunity to give results and help in understanding life in ancient Rhizon.³⁴ It is what Polish archaeologists in association with their colleagues from
Montenegro have been able to do in the past few years, excavating the ancient
town.
Translated by Iwona Zy
Bibliography:
Ciołek R., 2011, Emisje króla Ballaiosa. Początki mennictwa w Ilirii, Warszawa.
Ciołek R., 2011 (forthcoming), “Great” Hoard of 4565 Coins of King Ballaios from Rhizon, Novensia
21.
Dyczek P., 2004, Rhizon, 2001–2003. Preliminary Report on the Excavations of the Center
for Archaeological Research — Novae, Warsaw University, Areologia 55, 101–118, tab.
XXIV–XXVII.
Dyczek P., 2007, Rhizon, 2004–2007. Preliminary Report on the Excavations of the Center for Research on the Antiquity of Southeastern Europe, University of Warsaw, Areologia 58, 121-139,
tab. XIX–XX.
Dyczek P., 2009a, Hypnos from Risinium, Novensia 20, 51–63.
Dyczek P., 2009b, Rhizon/Risinium. Od iliryjskiej osady do rzymskiego municipium, Poznań (Xenia
Posnaniensia. Series altera, 35).
Dyczek P., Kolendo J., Łajtar A., Płóciennik T., Rzepkowski K., 2011 (forthcoming), Illiryjski bóg
Medaurus i jego posąg oraz mury Risinium w świetle inskrypcji metrycznej z Lambesis (CIL
VIII 2581, F. Buecheler 1527), Novensia 21.
Evans A., 1884, Antiquarian Researches in Illyricum, Areologia 48, 1–52.
Garašanin M., 1967, Moenia Aecia, Starinar 17, 27–36, tab. I–II.
Głąbiowski K. (ed.), Scylax Caryandaeus, Periplus Skylaksa z Karyandy czyli Opis opłynięcia zamieszkały brzegów Europy, Azji i Libii: jak liczne i jakiego rodzaju są poszczególne ludy, jakie
kraje, porty, rzeki i długość określony etapów żeglugi, a także siedem zamieszkały wysp
i odległość, jaka je dzieli od lądu stałego, tłum. K. Głombiowski, Gdańsk 2005.
Herbich T., 2009, Preliminary Report on the Geophysical Prospection on the Site of Risan in Montenegro, 2008, Novensia 20, 95–108.
Karpiński R., 2011 (forthcoming), Badania podwodne Risan 2003–2010, Novensia 21.
³⁴ Richlý 1898, 152.
194
 
Kowal T., 2010, Skarb monet z Risan, Areologia Żywa 5(51), 46–48.
Kubitschek K., 1903, Go Medaurus, Miheilungen der K.K. Zentral-Kommission ür Erforsung
und Eraltung der Kunst- und Historisen Denkmäler 2, 170–173.
Magaš D., 2002, Natural-geographic Characteristics of the Boka Kotorska Area as the Basis of Development, Geoadria 7/1, 51–81.
Murray T., 1999, Sir Arthur Evans 1851–1941, in Encyclopedia of Araeology. e Great Araeologists, edited by T. Murray, Santa Barbara – Denver – Oxford, I, 211–219.
Parnicki-Pudełko S., 1975, Aritektura starożytnej Grecji, Warszawa.
Richlý H., 1898, Archäologische Funde aus den Bocche di Caaro, Miheilungen der K.K. Central-Kommission ür Erforsung und Eraltung der Kunst- und Historisen Denkmäler 24,
143–152.
Šlechtová A., Levora J., 2004, Členové České akademie věd a umění 1890–1952, Praha.
Wilkes J., 1992, e Illyrians, Cambridge.
Wilkes J., 2006, [Introduction], in A. Evans, Ancient Illyria. An Araeological Exploration, London
– New York.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
FALSE NEROS IN THE FLAVIAN TIMES
J K
T
he seizure of power by a new dynasty in the Roman Empire did not result
in a radical shi in relationships with Arsacid Kingdom. On the contrary,
both sides signalled willingness to maintain friendly diplomatic contacts.
e outbreak of a civil war and Vespasian’s (who at that time commanded Eastern troops of Rome) active participation in internal conflict led to a proposal from
Vologeses that concerned provision of military assistance for the candidate.¹ In
turn Vespasian acknowledged the importance of the Eastern neighbour by deciding, in the face of Gaius L. Mucianus’ operations, to take up negotiations aimed
at ensuring neutrality of Parthia and Armenia, which only theoretically was subject to Rome’s supremacy.² e victory of the Flavian dynasty in the civil war and
necessity to regulate affairs in the Eastern part of Imperium Romanum resulted
in thorough reorganization of provincial administration. e actions taken led to
creation of an extensive Galatia-Cappadocia complex where two legions, responsible for defence of Eastern frontiers of the Empire, were placed. What is more,
Flavian policy assumed abolition of vassal kingdoms, which formerly constituted
the “buffer” areas between Parthia and Rome,³ thus aimed at moving direct “borders” of the Empire further to the East. e decisions, which aimed at surrounding Armenia with strongly militarized areas, resulted in alteration of status quo
developed in the East by Nero and Domitius Corbulo. Radical change in administrative and political situation (the liquidation of Sophene, Armenia Minor, Cilicia, Commagene, and Lycian league as separate vassal states⁴) could inevitably
lead to strained relations between Vologeses and Vespasian. Nevertheless Arsacid
Kingdom remained passive in the face of activities of the Empire. Even in case of
Commagene (a kingdom that had good relations with Arsacids), abolishing its autonomy did not result in rapid deterioration in the bilateral contacts between both
¹ Tac., Hist., 4.52.
² Tac., Hist., 2.82; Suet., Vesp., 6; cf. Dąbrowa 1983, 159. Gardner 1877, 13; Bivar 1983, 85; Rawlinson
1973, 281: “e terms proposed and agreed upon were the same that Nero had rejected; and thus
the Parthians could not but be satisfied, since they obtained all for which they had asked”.
³ Cf. Braund 1984.
⁴ About Commagene and Armenia Minor see: Dąbrowa 1994, 19–29; Kozłowski 2011, 205–216;
Lycian League: Jameson 1980, 832–855; Larsen 1945, 65–97; Magie 1950, 530.
195
196
 
superpowers.⁵ All misunderstandings arising from the intervention of Cesennius
Paetus were solved diplomatically and without military proceedings.⁶ Morover,
handing Callinicus and Epiphanes, the sons of Antioch IV, over to Rome aer
their escape to Vologeses,⁷ indicates that Parthia did not want to risk the loss of
favours of a new domus Flavia.
is article aims at examining reasons which induced Arsacids against former
policy of Vologeses, to support two Pseudo Neros in AD 79/80⁸ and AD 87/88. I
would also try to show that the support given to Terentius Maximus, the second
known usurper, was not directed against Roman Empire.
In the year 78, Parthia experienced unrest connected with the weakening position of Vologeses I. e analysis of numismatic sources indicates that Pacoros,
identified with the son of the previous King of Kings or his brother,⁹ decided to
step out. e position of a new claimant to the throne was unstable to such an extent that in the same month Vologeses regained control over Seleucia-Ctesiphon
mint, where Pacoros was minting his coins.¹⁰ Basing on the lack of any source
mentions of Vologeses aer AD 79, we can assume that he had eventually lost
power as a consequence of the claimant’s activities.¹¹ However, that was not an
end of internal frictions. In fact, Artabanus III objected to the power of Pacoros
and took an aempt to seize power over Arsacid Kingdom.¹² e times of internal unrest in the East were used by the usurper who was passing himself off
as a miraculously survived Nero. Complicated situation inside the territory of
Arsacid Kingdom prevented Parthia from conducting uniform and far-sighted
foreign policy. Simultaneously, it enabled Terentius Maximus (the second from
⁵ Contra Dąbrowa 1994, 25–26.
⁶ Kozłowski 2011, 217–221.
⁷ Ioseph., BI, 7.219–243.
⁸ Sibylline books indicate that Terentius Maximus appeared in the East during the eruption of
Vesuvius, Orac. Sibyl., 4.130–139. On the dating of False Nero appearance cf. Tulpin 1989, 374.
⁹ e issue is not seled. Debevoise 1938, 214, indicates skimpy amount of source information
concerning Pacoros II; on the other hand, Olbrycht 1996, 130–131 pays aention to continuation in
monetary representations among the reigns of Vologeses I and Pacoros II. Basing on numismatic
sources he returns to a old conclusion that Pacoros II was a son of Vologeses I (cf . Vaillant 1725,
296; Lewis 1728, 318) and was appointed as a new King of Kings with the predecessor’s consent.
However, numismatic evidences are by no means conclusive. Representations of Pacoros in a tiara
identical to the tiara used by Vologeses, as well as legend ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΣ ΒΑΣΙΛΕΩΝ | ΑΡΣΑΚΟΥ
ΠΑΚΟΡΟΥ | ΔΙΚΑΙΟΥ | ΕΠΙΦΑΝΟΥΣ ΦΙΛΕΛΛΗΝΟΣ on a coin’s reverse that corresponded to the
legends of Vologeses from the mint in Seleucia (cf. Sellwood 1980, 73.2; 73.3–5; 73.10 [Pacoros II];
68.4–8; 68.11 [Vologeses I] let us only acknowledge that Pacoros II wanted to be regarded as the lawful successor of Vologeses. In my opinion, that cannot be treated neither as evidence that Pacoros
peacefully seized power aer his predecessor, nor that describe the extent of family connections
between both rulers. We can only say, that Pacoros was a young man when he seized power (beardless representation of monarch on early coins), but the evidence is too weak to conclude, that he
was a close relative to Vologeses I. Cf. Gardner 1877, 14; Rawlinson 1873, 294.
¹⁰ Cf. McDowell 1935, 192.
¹¹ Debevoise 1938, 214; Bivar 1983, 86.
¹² Cass. Dio, 66.19.3.
     
197
“False Neros”) to take advantage of the conflicts and use them for private purposes. On this account, the activities of the second False Nero should be seen from
the angle of internal struggles between the dynasts that destabilized Parthian
Kingdom between the years 79 and 81 AD.
Undoubtedly, the reasons for which Terentius Maximus could count on support in the East resulted directly from the popularity of Nero’s reign among citizens of both the Empire and the Parthian Kingdom. Also, unclear circumstances
surrounding death of the caesar, which created a legend foreseeing a near return
of the ruler, played significant role here.¹³ On the other hand, Arsacids viewed
Nero from the angle of his policy in the East, which — together with the crowning
of Tiridates in AD 66 — made Rome to give a real control over Armenia to the
Eastern monarchs.¹⁴ Such an adverse solution from the standpoint of the Empire,
which shaered the policy implemented from the times of Augustus, was perceived in the East as “policy of balance”. For Arsacids, the resolution from the
year 66 meant taking care of issues that aroused conflicts in Armenia and concerned influence of the two powers. Changes initiated by Vespasian, although
they did not come across any objections from the “King of Kings”, for Parthians
actually meant abandoning the policy of stabilization in the region. However, the
transformation of Eastern provincial administration was advanced enough that it
seems illogical to perceive policy of Parthians, regarding the False Nero, as a late
objection to Flavian reforms. e explanation of Artabanus III’s activities should
be sought somewhere else.
According to Zonoras, Artabanus during his struggle with Pacoros II did not
manage to get Titus’ support for his monarchical aspirations.¹⁵ It implies that the
policy of Imperium Romanum has been changing in that period towards preservation of neutrality in the face of situation in the East or towards support for
Pacoros II.¹⁶ Undoubtedly, both possibilities were disadvantageous for Artabanus.
Unsuccessful aempts to win over Titus induced the claimant to direct himself
towards a figure, who in fact did not have any real military or political power, but
referred to continuously enormous popularity of Nero in the East. By supporting claims of Terentius Maximus, Artabanus could count on strengthening his
position towards the rival by way of propaganda. Certainly though, we should
not treat the “resentment” harboured with regard to Titus as the primary factor
¹³ According to Suetonius, astrologers predicted to Nero: Sponderant tamen qui dam destituto
Orientis domination nonnulli nominatim Regnom Hierosolymorum, plures omnis pristinae fortunae
restitution (Suet., Nero, 40.2) and further: Modo edicta quasi viventis et brevi magno inimicorum malo
reveruri (Suet., Nero, 52.1–2); cf. Pappano 1937, 385; Malitz 2005, 109, Bishop 1964, 167.
¹⁴ Ioann. Ant., 104 (FHG, IV, 578–579); cf. Malitz 2005, 110; Olbrycht 2010, 190–191; Pappano 1937,
390.
¹⁵ Zon., 11.8; cf. Gallivan 1973, 364.
¹⁶ Basing on available sources we cannot unambiguously state what relations between Pacoros
and Rome were like, or even whether he sought Flavian’s favours or not; cf. Jones 1984, 150.
198
 
which motivated policy of the Parthian claimant. References to the memories
of Nero, which Artabanus confirmed by supporting Terentius Maximus, should
be perceived as an aempt to balance the lack of support for his case displayed
by the Flavians. Interpreting activities of the Parthian claimant, as if they were
directed against the Empire, seems to be a false assumption. Artabanus did not
have enough power, even in his own country, as he was forced to fight to maintain his already limited political influences. is caused no actual threat for the
ruling Roman dynasty. Having in his circle a person who would be regarded
as the survived Nero had notable benefits in shaping internal policy of Parthia.
However, we should not speak here about any aempts of active support for the
usurper’s claims, i.e. such aempts which may directly harm the position of domus Augusta. Terentius Maximus was just a “tool” in the hands of Artabanus, and
never became a subject of his activities. According to John Malalas from Antioch,
the support given to Maximus was limited in nature, and the claimant himself
quickly stops to play any political role. Presumably, near the year 81 when the
position of Artabanus seemed to be fairly established,¹⁷ he eventually got rid of,
then no longer useful, Terentius Maximus.¹⁸ is means that the problem of the
second False Nero should be perceived in terms of internal policy of Parthia, and
not in terms of relations between Arsacids and Rome. We ought to reject also the
theory that links the sixteenth acclamatio¹⁹ of Titus with military neutralization
of the false Nero’s claims. Such an interpretation involves necessity to accept
later dates of Terentius Maximus’ activities in the East, and that does not seem
to be justified in sources. e issue of Maximus, and the support he received
from Artabanus III, could not impact relations between Empire and Parthia also
because of another reason. Historians frequently neglect the fact, that successor
of Vologeses (no maer whether he was appointed directly by him or was just a
usurper) did not support activities of Terentius and remained an enemy of both
Artabanus as well as the impostor he supported. Due to this reason we can hazard
a guess that between the years 79–81 the problem of false Nero was supposedly
bringing both rulers closer than it was growing them apart.
***
e situation changed when the third usurper stepped out during the times of
Dacian Wars of Domitian. At that time, recalling words of Suetonius: exstitisset
¹⁷ e coins minted by Artabanus are dated to AD 80–81; cf. RE, II.1, 1895, col. 1296 (F. Cauer,
s.v. Artabanus 9), which must correspond to his strengthened position inside the monarchy of
Arsacids.
¹⁸ Ioann. Ant., 104 (FHG, IV, 578–579).
¹⁹ Kienast 1990, 112; cf. Fortina 1955, 263; Tuplin 1989, 374–375; Jones 1984, 151.
     
199
conditionis incertae qui se Neronem esse iactaret, tam favorabile nomen eius apud
Parthos fuit, ut vehementer adiutus et vix redditus sit.²⁰
Sources concerning circumstances connected with the third false Nero are
very limited. We do know neither his name, nor a period in which he operated.
However, the aempts to define dates of his appearance may be based on Tacitus’
account: Nobilitatus cladibus mutuis Dacus, mota prope etami Parthorum arma
falsi Neronis ludibrio.²¹ As B.W. Jones noticed, the period and circumstances of
C. Vealenus Civica Cerialis’ execution, who was the proconsul of Asia from
AD 87/88, may be linked to the activities of the cheat. In B.W. Jones’ opinion, lack
of vigorous response to the appearance of false Nero resulted in execution of the
governor.²² Unrest in the East, in the period preceding a date when M. Fulvius
(Cerialis’ successor) took up the post, is also indicated by military diplomas that
testified considerable increase in the number of auxiliary units in Syria.²³ Lack
of information concerning other threats in Eastern part of the Empire in those
times suggests that it is possible to link both events with the support given to
false Nero by Pacoros II.
Tense political situation of the Empire in AD 87/88 could give Parthians hopes
for using it according to their own interests. Dacian Wars were absorbing Rome
at the Danube militarily, moreover in AD 87 — which is indicated by Cassius
Dio — Rome experiences unrest that resulted in executions of many influential
citizens.²⁴ e event suggests significant decrease of support for the policy conducted by Domitian. Unstable situation in the capital of the Empire and heavy
fights with the Decebalus prevented any vigorous intervention in the East, and
at the same time made it impossible to oppose possible hostile activities of Parthians. Engaging considerable military forces of the Empire (for the first time from
the conclusion of Jewish-Roman war) on its north-eastern borders could induce
Arsacids to adopt a lot more aggressive aitude towards the neighbour.
²⁰ Suet., Nero, 57.2. Contrary to the testimony of Suetonius, who clearly maintain, that the occurrence of the third “Nero” took place in annos adulescente me (which means that Suetonius was
between 20 and 30 years old, thus he could not relate to an usurper of the year 79/80), many researchers claim that there is no clear evidence of “Neros” activities, different from the activities of
the first two contenders. Bishop 1964, 170 says, that the occurrence of Terentius Maximus should
be dated to the year 88; see also Scullard 1965, 332; In turn Henderson 1903, 420 and Malitz 2005,
109–113 do not relate in any way to the issue of a third false Nero. However, the stance of these
scholars contradicts the words of Tacitus: Ceterorum casus conatusque in contextu operis dicemus
(Tac., Hist., 2.8), who, ipso facto, had to have knowledge of the further usurpers and their subsequent
activities. Moreover, Suetonius, who is referring to a period certainly later than the year 79/80, says
that the public inspection of an old man suspected of Jewish origins took place when he was still
a young man; see: Suet., Dom., 12.2. For more details see: Gallivan 1973, 365; Griffin 2001, 214–215;
On the sources of the principate of Nero, see: Jahn 1920.
²¹ Tac., Hist., 1.2.
²² Jones 1961, 516–521.
²³ CIL, XVI, 35.
²⁴ Cass. Dio, 67.9.6; cf. Viscusi 1973, 145.
200
 
In the year 1926 Ronald Syme suggested that Parthia and Dacia started joint
negotiations directed against Rome.²⁵ According to R. Syme and the authors who
supported his theory,²⁶ False Nero was an aractive figurehead that enabled to
“humiliate Roman Emperor”. Considering the above stand, one should at first ask
himself a question whether notable political benefits for Parthia were possible to
obtain if it engaged into the activities of the usurper. Assuming that an agreement between Decebalus and Pacoros II was a fact, the only right direction of
the King of King’s activities seems to be an aitude of keeping neutrality until
completing necessary preparation for a war. Any support for “Nero” (not to mention a military support for his claims) could lead only to premature revelation of
hostile intentions by Arsacids. us there should be no doubts that support given
by Pacoros for “Nero’s” claims testifies against R. Syme’s view. e support for
false Nero shows that Parthia tried to take advantage of Rome’s weakness being
a “consequence” of Decebalus activities, and not “in communication” with him.²⁷
e only explanation of Pacoros II policy seems to be an aempt to change rules
on which relations with Rome from the times of Vologeses I were based. After a period of internal instability once more united Parthia wanted to increase
its influence on the policy of the Empire. However, wrong appraisal of political
situation in Rome was made. Supporting usurper turned out to be a premature
decision, thus a wrong decision. e opportunity to interfere into the policy of the
Empire, assuming the opportunity constitutes an actual possibility, was squandered and Pacoros was forced, by Domitian’s request, to turn in the formerly
supported “false Nero”.²⁸
e above considerations indicate that the problem of false Neros, supported
by Artabanus III and Pacoros II, could not in any way shape a long-term policy between Parthia and the Flavian Rome. Activities of both Arsacids should
only be perceived as minor “diplomatic encounters” that were not, as in case of
Pacoros II, an element of wider anti-Rome policy (suggested by R. Syme connections between relation towards false Nero and the alliance between Parthia and
Decebalus should be rejected). Undoubtedly, usurpers’ activities gave Parthians
some possibilities to shape internal policy (the case of Artabanus II) or making
an aempt to influence policy of Flavians (Pacoros II and support for the third
²⁵ Syme 1926, 144.
²⁶ For example: Viscusi 1973, 59; Jones 1961, 521; 1984: 158–159; PIR¹, V, 351.
²⁷ It is directly indicated by Cassius Dio (67.7.2–7.4) who claimed that Decebalus was inclined to
peace due to the hardships of current war. is means that Dacia abandoned plans to communicate
with Parthians together with a proposal submied by Domitian, or negotiations with Arsacids have
never taken place cf. Viscusi 1973, 61. at doesn’t mean that there were no diplomatic connections
between Pacoros and Decebalus (see: Plin., Ep., 10.16); however they did not lead to a joint policy
toward Rome.
²⁸ As noted by Jones 1984, 159 “(…) whatever force were needed to deal with the false Nero, Domitian had no need to be concerned at the resultant deteriorating relationship with Parthia, for roman
control of the Caucasus reminded as firm as ever”.
     
201
false Nero). However, the opportunity to put political pressure on Rome was
rather an unjustified hope than actual possibility. For Roman emperors the activity of Arsacids was not a threat but rather a minor political dispute that required
diplomatic response, but nothing more. For that reason, the issue of false Neros
wielded minimal impact on relations between both powers.
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ca. 79 de n.e.) et les facteurs qui la conditionnaient, Kraków.
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an International Conference in Honour of Professor Józef Wolski, Held at the Jagiellonian University, Cracow, in September 1996, edited by E. Dąbrowa, Kraków, 123–161.
Olbrycht M.J., 2010, Historia Iranu, Wrocław.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
DER GERMANENFELDZUG DES KAISERS CARACALLA
IM LICHTE DER EPIGRAPHISCHEN QUELLEN
K K
D
er älteste Sohn des Kaisers L. Septimius Severus, M. Aurelius Antoninus, genannt Caracalla,¹ wurde am 4. April 188 n. Chr. in Lugdunum
(heute Lyon) in der Provinz Gallia Lugdunensis geboren.² Sein eigentlicher Name war Septimius Bassianus.³ Noch zu Lebzeiten des Vaters wurde er
zum Mitherrscher des Imperium Romanum ernannt: zuerst erhielt er die Würde
eines caesar (sehr wahrscheinlich im April 196 im obermösischen Viminacium)⁴
und danach wurde er von Severus in den Rang eines augustus erhoben (28. Januar 198 n. Chr.).⁵ Nach dem Tod von Septimus Severus (4. Februar 211) herrschte
er eine Zeit lang zusammen mit seinem jüngeren Bruder Geta. Ende Dezember
211 n. Chr. kam es jedoch zu einer Eskalation des gegenseitigen Hasses der Brüder
¹ Zu Caracalla siehe PIR², S, 446; Kienast 2004, 162–163; ebf. Schneider 1890; RE, II.2, 1896,
col. 2434–2453 (P. von Rohden, s.v. Aurelius 46); Schulz 1909; MacKenzie 1949; Pirgmayer 1989;
Meckler 1994, 1–35; Birley 1997. Der Beiname Caracalla wurde vom Kriegsmantel, den der Kaiser
trug, abgeleitet — vgl. Wild 1964.
² Die Tagesdaten gibt der Kalender Feriale Duranum (P. Dur., 54, col. II, V. 2), wogegen Cassius
Dio (79.6.5) — die Lebenszeit des Kaiser angibt (er wurde 29 Jahre und 4 Tage alt). Des weiteren
soll Caracalla nach dem Kaiserbiogramm in der Historia Augusta (SHA, Ant. Car., 9.1) zum Zeitpunkt seines Todes (217 n. Chr.) 43 Jahre alt gewesen sein (dies ist ein offensichtlicher Fehler). Im
Biogramm des Septimus Severus (SHA, Sev., 16.3) erscheint die Information, dass Caracalla, als er
die Würde eines augustus erhielt (d. h. 198 n. Chr.) 13 Jahre alt war. Im Zusammenhang mit dem
oben gesagten, meint ein Teil der Gelehrten, dass Caracalla tatsächlich im Jahr 186 n. Chr. geboren
wurde (RE, II.2, 1896, col. 2439 [P. von Rohden]; MacKenzie 1949, 3), die überwiegende Mehrheit
entscheidet sich aber ür das Jahr 188 (Hasebroek 1921, 12; Kotula 1987, 31; Meckler 1994, 1; Birley
1997, 185; Grant 2004, 159). Siehe auch die interessanten Ausührungen von G. Alöldy (1996, 31–36),
der überzeugend zeigen konnte, dass der 188 n. Chr geborene Kaiser sich zwei Jahre mehr gab, d. h.
„sich älter machte“. Lugdunum als Geburtsort Caracallas: Aur. Vict.-Ps., Epit. de Caes., 21.1. Zur
Herkun Caracallas vgl. auch Martinelli 2006.
³ Eine Liste der ellenbelege, in denen der Name Bassianus erscheint: RE, II.2, 1896, col. 2435
(P. von Rohden).
⁴ SHA, Sev., 10.3 und 16.3; siehe auch Kienast 2004, 162. Anthony R. Birley (1999, 122) meint, dass
dies höchstwahrscheinlich im Frühjahr 195 n. Chr. erfolgte. Sándor Soproni (1980, 43) dagegen ist
überzeugt, dass Septimus Severus Caracalla noch während des Partherfeldzugs im April 195 in den
Rang eines caesar erhob (nach Ansicht des ungarischen Forschers nahm Caracalla nicht am Feldzug
teil), wogegen er am 4. April des folgenden Jahres in Viminacium Caracalla bereits als caesar seinen
Truppen vorstellte.
⁵ SHA, Sev., 16.3; Geta, 5.3; Dietmar Kienast (2004, 162) schlägt den Herbst des Jahres 197 vor.
203
204
 
mit tragischen Folgen. Caracalla ermordete eigenhändig Geta⁶ und begann von
diesem Moment an seine Alleinherrscha, die bis zum tragischen Tod des Kaisers
bei Carrhae am 8. April 217 n. Chr. dauerte.⁷
In die erste Zeit der Herrscha Caracallas ällt der vom Kaiser unternommene Feldzug gegen die germanischen Stämme, die in den Gebieten hinter dem
obergermanisch-rätischen Limes saßen. Diese Kampagne, die von den Zeitgenossen mit dem offiziellen Terminus als expeditio Germanica bezeichnet wurde, fand
in der zweiten Häle des Jahres 213 n. Chr. sta.⁸ Sie war gleichzeitig der erste
von Caracalla selbstständig unternommene Schri in die internationale Arena.⁹
Die Gründe ür die Organisierung des Germanenfeldzugs wurden bis heute
nicht hinreichend erhellt, da die ellenbasis, über die wir verügen, recht dünn
ist. In der Forschung dominiert die Ansicht, dass der Kaiser auf diese Weise auf
den Einfall der Allamannen reagierte, der die römischen Provinzen am Oberrhein
und der oberen Donau betroffen haben soll. Diese Annahme ist allerdings ziemlich hypothetisch, denn die literarischen ellen schweigen über einen eventuellen Barbarenüberfall auf das römische Territorium. Ebenso besitzen wir praktisch
keine sicheren archäologischen Spuren eines solchen Überfalls, zumindest nicht
eines Einfalls großen Ausmaßes.¹⁰ Es gibt auch keine Sicherheit, dass damals die
Allamannen tatsächlich Gegner der Römer waren.¹¹
Einige wenige Forscher (z.B. Lawrence Okamura) meinten, dass Caracalla
überhaupt keinen Angriff gegen die germanischen Stämme jenseits des Limes
plante, sondern nur eine Inspektion der Grenzprovinzen vornehmen und bei dieser Gelegenheit den Treueid von den dort stationierten Einheiten abnehmen wollte. Der bewaffnete Überfall über die Grenzen des römischen Territoriums erfolgte
eher, „weil die Gelegenheit günstig war“.¹²
⁶ Die Ermordung Getas erfolgte zwischen dem 17. Dezember 211 und dem 7. Januar 212 n. Chr.
(siehe PIR², S, 454 [S. 173]). Die ellen zur Ermordung Getas: Cass. Dio, 77.2.3-4; Hdn., 4.4.3 und
4.9.3; Aur. Vict., Caes., 20.32; SHA, Sev., 21.7; Car., 2.4; Geta, 3.6–8; Ps.-Aur. Vict., Epit. de Caes., 21.3;
Philost., VS, 2.24.2; siehe dazu auch erschöpfend Alöldy 1972.
⁷ Cass. Dio, 79.5.4; Hdn., 4.13.5; SHA, Car., 6.6–7.1; auch Maricq 1957.
⁸ Zum Germanenfeldzug Caracallas siehe Bockhoff 1868, 6–28; Duncker 1879; Reusch 1931, 26–33;
MacKenzie 1949, 33–36; Kerler 1970, 103–107; Pirgmayer 1989, 35–48; Handy 2009, 82–87; Królczyk
2010.
⁹ Es gibt auch eine Hypothese, die davon ausgeht, dass Caracalla noch vor dem Beginn des Germanenfeldzuges in Pannonien im Jahre 212 n. Chr. Krieg ührte (so Fitz 1962, 99–101; 1972, 92–95;
Mócsy 1974, 198), sie beruht jedoch auf nicht völlig überzeugenden Argumenten und erscheint
deshalb als sehr unwahrscheinlich; Argumente contra: Okamura 1984, I, 28–31.
¹⁰ H.-J. Kellner (1995, 316) möchte mit einem eventuellen Allamanneneinfall den Schatz, der im
Kastell Gnotzheim gefunden wurde, sowie den Fund aus Dambach in Verbindung bringen.
¹¹ Die Diskussion zu diesem ema referiert Królczyk 2010, 266–268.
¹² Siehe Okamura 1984, I, 10–11; 127–128. Die Argumente von L. Okamura beruhen auf dem Fehlen
von irgendwelchen Erwähnungen eines Krieges im Jahre 213 bei Herodian, einem glaubwürdigen
Historiker und der — was am wichtigsten ist — den besprochenen Ereignissen nahe war. Dennoch muss bemerkt werden, dass dass Schweigen Herodians kein entscheidendes Argument sein
    
205
Persönlich denke ich, dass ür die Entscheidung ür den Germanenfeldzug
möglicherweise ganz andere Gründe ausschlaggebend waren. Der Kaiser, der erst
vor kurzem die Herrscha übernommen hae und bereits im zweifelhaen Ruf
eines Bruder- und Senatorenmörders stand, ühlte sich in Rom unwohl, wovon
Herodian eindeutig schreibt.¹³ Ein vom Erfolg gekrönter Feldzug häe sicherlich
sowohl das Selbstwertgeühl Caracallas als auch das Bild des Princeps zumindest
eines Teils der öffentlichen Meinung ändern müssen. Hinzu kommt, dass es dem
Kaiser bislang noch nicht gelungen war, militärischen Ruhm ür sich allein zu gewinnen, da alle bisherigen Erfolge noch zu Lebzeiten des Vaters errungen worden
waren. Daher kann die expeditio Germanica als Versuch Caracallas erscheinen,
ein neues Bild von sich zu schaffen.
Über die Gründe, den Verlauf und die Bedeutung von Caracallas Germanenfeldzug sowie den Gegnern, mit denen damals die Römer kämpen, habe ich
bereits an anderer Stelle geschrieben.¹⁴ Dort wurde auch eine Analyse der literarischen ellen unternommen (Cassius Dio, Herodian, Aurelius Victor, die sog.
Historia Augusta, d.h. die Sammlung der Kaiserbiographien von Hadrian bis Numerianus), die dem Historiker zur Verügung stehen, der heute die Ereignisse zu
rekonstruieren versucht. Im vorliegenden Aufsatz dagegen möchte ich die epigraphischen ellen, die die expeditio Germanica betreffen, ausührlicher diskutieren, die eine hervorragende Ergänzung zu den uns von den antiken Historikern überlieferten Nachrichten zum römischen Germanenfeldzug des Jahres
213 n. Chr. sind.
Zu Anfang unserer Ausührungen müssen wir betonen, dass uns gerade die
epigraphischen ellen die offizielle Bezeichnung der von Caracalla unternommenen Militärexpedition nennen. In zahlreichen Inschrien erscheint sie als expeditio Germanica.¹⁵ Diesen Terminus benutzen u. a. die Inschrien, die C. Octavius Appius Suetrius Sabinus erwähnen (vgl. zu ihm die Bemerkungen weiter
unten), die in Rom¹⁶ und mehreren antiken Städten Italiens gefunden wurden,
nämlich Casinum,¹⁷ Aquinum¹⁸ und Histonium.¹⁹ Über die expeditio Germanica
informieren uns ebenfalls Inschrien, die in der Umgebung des Legionslagers Isca
(heute Carleon) in Britannien,²⁰ des Ortes Novomagius (heute Speyer) in Ober-
muss, denn gelegentlich übergeht er wichtige und aus anderen ellen bekannte Ereignisse mit
Stillschweigen, wie z.B. den Erlass der Constitutio Antoniniana (sog. Edikt Caracallas).
¹³ Hdn., 4.7.
¹⁴ Królczyk 2010.
¹⁵ Vgl. Rosenberger 1992, 116.
¹⁶ CIL, VI, 41194 = 31664 = 1476; 1477 und 1551 = AE 1985, 37.
¹⁷ CIL, X, 5178.
¹⁸ CIL, X, 5398.
¹⁹ CIL, IX, 2848 = AE 1985, 332.
²⁰ CIL, VII, 126.
206
 
germanien²¹ sowie unweit von Aquincum (heute Budapest) in Niederpannonien²²
gefunden wurden. Interessant ist, dass in der offiziellen Terminologie ebenfalls
epigraphisch bestätigte Ausnahmen festgestellt wurden. So bringen z.B. die in
der Nähe des niederpannonischen Kastells Intercisa (heute Dunaújváros in Ungarn) gefundenen Inschrien die Bezeichnung bellum Germanicum, die höchstwahrscheinlich den Germanenfeldzug Caracallas betri.²³ Mit dem selben Ereignis wird bisweilen ebenfalls die Inschri aus der Ortscha Caesarea (heute
Aïoun-Sbiba in Algerien) in der Provinz Mauretania Caesariensis verbunden, in
der die expeditio Imperatoris in Germaniam erwähnt wird.²⁴ Die erwähnten epigraphischen Zeugnisse sind um so bedeutender, weil in keinem der überlieferten
Werke antiker Historiker der offizielle Name des Krieges erscheint. So schweigt
z.B. Herodian ebenso zu diesem ema, wie der Verfasser des Kaiserbiogramms
aus der Historia Augusta. Nur Cassius Dio informiert seine Leser darüber, dass
der Kaiser einen Krieg gegen die Allamannen (πόλεμος πρὸς τοὺς Ἀλαμαννούς)
begann.²⁵ Wir besitzen allerdings keinerlei Sicherheit, dass dies wirklich die Worte Dions sind, da das uns interessierende Fragment nicht im Original überliefert
ist, sondern nur in einer mielalterlichen Abschri, die Mie des 10. Jahrhunderts auf Veranlassung des Kaisers Konstantin Porphyrogennetus entstand und
deshalb als excerpta Constantiniana bezeichnet wird.²⁶
Die epigraphischen ellen informieren uns ebenfalls über die römischen
Vorbereitungen auf den Feldzug, die höchstwahrscheinlich bereits im Jahre
212 n. Chr. begannen.²⁷ Man kann zu dieser Zeit verstärkte Bauarbeiten an den
römischen Straßen in der Provence und den nördlichen Provinzen des Imperium
Romanum bemerken. Daran erinnern mehrere Meilensteine aus dem Gebiet der
Provinz Alpes Maritimae und Gallia Narbonensis (im heutigen Südfrankreich in
der Umgebung von Nizza), die aufgrund der Analyse der Kaisertitulatur in den
Zeitraum zwischen dem 1. Januar und dem 6. Oktober 213 n. Chr. datiert werden
können.²⁸ In den an den Meilensteinen angebrachten Inschrien, die aus der antiken Provinz Germania superior stammen, erscheint der Kaiser u. a. als pacator
²¹ CIL, XIII, 6104.
²² CIL, III, 3447 = RIU, VI, 1328.
²³ RIU, V, 1228 (wir haben keine absolute Sicherheit, dass diese Inschri sich tatsächlich auf Caracallas expeditio Germanica bezieht; theoretisch könnte sie den Germanenfeldzug des Severus
Alexander betreffen; vgl. Rosenberger 1992, 116); RIU, V, 1183 = AE 1910, 138 (es fehlt ebenfalls
völlige Sicherheit, dass die Inschri die Zeit Caracallas betri).
²⁴ Daür, diese Inschri auf dem Germanenfeldzug Caracallas zu beziehen, spricht sich Veit Rosenberger aus (1992, 116). Es muss allerdings erwähnt werden, dass diese Inschri meistens mit
Konstantin dem Großen verbunden wird.
²⁵ Cass. Dio, 73.13.6 (= Exc., 374).
²⁶ Boissevain et al. 1903–1910.
²⁷ Kolb 2003, 22.
²⁸ CIL, XVII.2, 6 (= XII, 5431, Gréolières); 7 (= XII, 5430, Gréolières); 8 (= XII, 5432, Andon); 9 (= XII,
5433, Andon); 10 (= XII, 5434, Andon); 11 (= XII, 5435, Andon); 12 (= XII, 5436, Andon); 13a (= XII,
5438, Salinae/Castellane). Vgl. auch König 1970, 83–84 und 125–129.
    
207
orbis.²⁹ Mit dem Germanenfeldzug verbundene Meilensteine stammen ebenfalls
aus der Provinz Rätien (Raetia). Hierbei sind besonders die Steine, die in der Nähe von Phoebiana (heute Faimingen) gefunden wurden, erwähnenswert.³⁰ Hier
befand sich ein Lager von Hilfstruppen und in der Nähe das bekannte Heiligtum
des Apollo Granus, das Caracalla sicherlich vor Beginn der Militärkampagne besuchte (oder eventuell nach ihrem Ende).³¹
Mit der Vorbereitung des Germanenfeldzugs war die Beschaffung der ür diesen nötigen Finanzmiel direkt verbunden. Eine ins Jahr 213 n. Chr. datierte Inschri,³² die aus dem Gebiet des antiken Gorsium (Pannonia inferior) stammt und
dem Kaiser Caracalla geweiht ist, erwähnt zwei Beamte im Rang eines praepositus
annonae. Dies waren M. Ulpius intianus (decurio, II vir und quinquennalis designatus in der Kolonie Aquincum) und T. Flavius Aprilis (decurio in der Kolonie
Sirmium), die zweifellos ür das Eintreiben der annona ür den geplanten Feldzug
verantwortlich waren.
Die Epigraphik leistet uns darüber hinaus unschätzbare Dienste festzustellen,
welche Militäreinheiten mobilisiert wurden, um an der Expedition teilzunehmen.
Diese Tatsache bekommt besonderes Gewicht, wenn wir betrachten, wie wenig
Information uns die antiken Autoren zu diesem ema geben. Der einzige Hinweis zu diesem ema findet sich in den Epitomen des Cassius Dio, in denen
von den Bogenschützen aus Osrhoene die Rede ist (ὑπὸ τῶν Ὀσροηνῶν), die den
Kaiser auf seinem Feldzug begleiteten.³³
Unsere Vorstellungen über die römischen Streitkräe, die an der Kampagne
beteiligt waren, wurden vom deutschen Gelehrten Emil Rierling geprägt, der
sie in einem klassischen Artikel über die Legion formulierte, der in den Jahren 1924–1925 in der Realencyclopädie der classisen Altertumswissensa erschien.³⁴ Aufgrund einer Analyse des epigraphischen Materials nahm E. Rierling (und ihm folgend auch andere Forscher³⁵) an, dass an dem Feldzug vor allem
Legionen beteiligt waren, die in nächster Nähe des Kriegsschauplatzes stationiert
waren: d. h. Einheiten aus Rätien (legio III Italica aus Castra Regina, heute Regens²⁹ Siehe z.B. CIL, XVII.2, 126 (= XIII, 9061 = Walser 1967, Nr. 33, Saint-Prex); 674 (= XIII, 9068 =
Walser 1967, Nr. 39, Montagny); 666 (= XIII, 9072 = Walser 1967, Nr. 42, Solothurn); 501 (= Walser
1967, Nr. 36; Bossaye); AE 1996, 1141 (Augusta Raurica/Augst). Miliaria, auf denen der Terminus
pacator orbis fehlt: CIL, XVII.2, 623 (= XIII, 9122, Nida/Frankfurt-Heddernheim); 645 (= XIII, 9116;
Umgebung von Baden-Baden); 651 (= XIII, 9112; Nöingen).
³⁰ AE 1985, 697–699; ausührlicher zu diesem ema: Dietz 1985; Dietz 1986; Kolb 2003.
³¹ Die Information, dass der Kaiser Hilfe bei Apollo Granus suchte, gibt Cass. Dio, 78.15.6. Ein
Besuch des Kaisers im Apolloheiligtum in Faimingen nach dem Ende des Feldzuges ist allerdings
weniger wahrscheinlich, da Caracalla auf römisches Gebiet zurückkehrte, indem er den Limes
höchstwahrscheinlich im obergermanischen Bereich überschri.
³² AE 1973, 437 = RIU, VI, 1501.
³³ Cass. Dio, 78.14.1; siehe auch von Gutschmid 1887, 35; Okamura 1984, I, 62–63.
³⁴ RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1186–1328; XII.2, 1925, col. 1329–1829 (E. Rierling, s.v. Legio).
³⁵ Z.B. MacKenzie 1949, 34.
208
 
burg³⁶) und aus Obergermanien (legio XXII Primigenia aus Mogontiacum, heute
Mainz³⁷). Auch andere Einheiten aus entfernteren Gebieten des Imperium Romanum sollen dazu herangezogen worden sein. Emil Rierling meinte, dass am Germanenfeldzug höchstwahrscheinlich Truppenteile teilnahmen, die in Italien (legio II Parthica aus Albanum, heute Albano³⁸), Britannien (legio II Augusta aus Isca,
heute Carleon³⁹), und darüber hinaus in Niederpannonien (legio II Adiutrix aus
Aquincum, heute Budapest⁴⁰) und Obermösien (legio IIII Flavia aus Singidunum,
heute Belgrad⁴¹) stationiert waren. Unter den von E. Rierling genannten Einheiten befand sich sogar die in Ägypten stationierte legio II Traiana. Beweis daür
sollten Inschrien sein, in denen die Legion den Ehrentitel Germanica⁴² trug, von
denen eine mit Sicherheit aus dem Zeitraum der Regierung Caracallas stammt.⁴³
Zu den von E. Rierling genannten Einheiten kann noch die legio VIII Augusta
³⁶ RE, XII.2, 1925, col. 1536 (E. Rierling); ähnlich Karlheinz Dietz (2000, 139), der mit der Teilnahme
der Legion am Krieg den Beinamen Antoniniana in Verbindung bringt.
³⁷ RE, XII.2, 1925, col. 1814 (E. Rierling); Franke 2000, 100–101.
³⁸ RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1319 und XII.2, 1925, col. 1479 (E. Rierling). Die Inschri CIL, XIII, 6231,
die in Borbetomagus (Worms) in Obergermanien gefunden wurde, wurde auf dem Grabstein des
Aurelius Dizza, Soldat der zweiten parthischen Legion angebracht, der im Alter von 36 Jahren im 14
Dienstjahr starb. Die Tatsache, dass er fern des Stationierungsortes der Legion (Albanum/Albano
bei Rom) beerdigt wurde, kann ein Hinweis sein, dass Aurelius Dizza mit seiner Einheit an einem
Feldzug in einem fernen Gebiet teilnahm. Vgl. Okamura 1984, I, 42–43.
³⁹ RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1318 und XII.2, 1925, col. 1463 (E. Rierling); Keppie 2000, 34, Anm. 108.
Grundlage dieser Schlussfolgerung ist die Inschri CIL, VII, 126 = RIB, 369, die in der Nähe von Isca
(Carleon) gefunden wurde und einen Tadius Exuperatus erwähnt, der während eines Germanenfeldzuges fiel (defunctus expeditione Germanica). Das Problem ist allerdings, dass wir in diesem Fall
keinerlei Möglichkeit haben, die Inschri genau zu datieren. Siehe auch Okamura 1984, I, 41–42.
⁴⁰ RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1318 und XII.2, 1925, col. 1450 (E. Rierling); CIL, III, 3447 = RIU, VI, 1328: ein
Altar aus Aquincum (Budapest), der Jupiter von zwei Soldaten geweiht wurde, die dies während
des Germanenfeldzuges gelobt haen (voverunt in espeditione Germica 〈sic!〉); siehe auch Gündel
1895, 61. Ein weiteres Beispiel ist die Inschri RIU, V, 1183 = AE 1910, 138 (Intercisa/Dunaújváros):
dies ist der Grabstein des Aurelius Constitutus, eines Soldaten der legio II adiutrix, der cecidit in
bello Germanico. Die unlängst in Budaörs bei Budapest gefundene Inschri (AE 2004, 1143) bestätigt
völlig die ese von Emil Rierling.
⁴¹ RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1318 und XII.2, 1925, col. 1546 (E. Rierling). Ähnlich wie im vorigen Fall
ist hier Grundlage eine Inschri, die einen Soldaten der legio IV Flavia nennt, die weit vom Stationierungsort der Legion gefunden wurde (CIL, XIII, 6104 = ILS, 2310). Es handelt sich um Aurelius
Vitalis, der agens expeditione Germaniae (sic!) war. Er starb im Alter von 25 Jahren im sechsten
Dienstjahr und wurde in Noviomagus (Speyer) in Obergermanien beerdigt. Es kann sich hier aber
auch um Kriegshandlungen aus der Zeit des Severus Alexander handeln. Siehe RE, XII.2, 1925,
col. 1546 (E. Rierling); Filow 1906, 79–80; Okamura 1984, I, 43–45 (der Zweifel äußert). Ein gewisser Hinweis ür die Präsenz der legio IIII Flavia an der Front könnte auch die Inschri IMSup., I, 40
= AE 1971, 417 aus Singidunum (Belgrad) sein, die einen Veteranen (das war Aurelius Mercator)
dieser Legion erwähnt, der den Ehrentitel Antoniniana trug. Die Herausgeber des ersten Bandes der
obermösischen Inschrien, M. Mirković und S. Dušanić, meinten, dass die Einheit diesen Beinamen
ür die Teilnahme am Feldzug des Jahres 213 erhalten hae. Man kann jedoch nicht ausschließen,
dass L. Okamura recht hat (1984, I, 46), der meint, dass der Beiname Antoniniana ebenso gut die
Konsequenz der Treue der Legion zu Caracalla während seines Konfliktes mit Geta sein könnte.
⁴² RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1318 und XII.2, 1925, col. 1489 (E. Rierling); die erwähnten Inschrien sind:
CIL, III, 6593; 6594a; 6609; 14130 (= 12057); 12052; 12055.
⁴³ CIL, III, 14130 = 12057; vgl. auch RE, XII.2, 1925, col. 1489 (E. Rierling).
    
209
hinzugeügt werden.⁴⁴ Die esen des deutschen Gelehrten — einschließlich der
ese über die Teilnahme der ägyptischen Legion am Feldzug — wurden von der
Forschung ohne größere Bedenken akzeptiert.⁴⁵ Seine Zweifel äußerte dagegen
L. Okamura, der meint, dass der erwähnte Siegerbeiname Germanica der legio
II Traiana von der Einheit schon kurze Zeit vorher erworben wurde, sicherlich
in der Zeit der Markomannenkriege.⁴⁶ Trotz dieser Vorbehalte können wir die
Teilnahme dieser Einheit oder zumindest ihrer vexillationes an der Kampagne
Caracallas nicht völlig ausschließen. Nach Ansicht von Emil Rierling waren die
an der Grenze Rätiens konzentrierten römischen Streitkräe die bedeutendsten
seit der Zeit von Domitians Chaenkriegen.⁴⁷
Lawrence Okamura, der den Hypothesen von E. Rierling ablehnend gegenübersteht, nahm an, dass den Kaiser auf dem Feldzug allein die Bogenschützen
aus Osrhoene (dies ergibt sich aus dem oben erwähnten Bericht des Cassius Dio)⁴⁸
sowie Soldaten der equites singulares Augusti, die halbe Kaisergarde und die vexillationes der germanischen Einheiten begleiteten; insgesamt nur ungeähr 6.500
Personen.⁴⁹ Allerdings nahmen im Licht der Inschri, die 1985 in L’Année épigraphique veröffentlicht wurde, an der expeditio Germanica ebenfalls vexillationes
der dakischen und niedermösischen Legionen teil: vermutlich die legio V Macedonica aus Potaissa (heute Turda) in Dakien und mit Sicherheit legio XI Claudia
aus Durostorum (heute Silistra) in Niedermösien.⁵⁰ Ohne Zweifel nahmen an der
Militärexpedition ebenfalls Soldaten der legio II Adiutrix teil, die in Aquincum
in Niederpannonien stationiert war.⁵¹ Wenn an der Seite Caracallas milites aus
Pannonien und sogar aus dem entfernten Niedermösien erschienen, so ist es sehr
wahrscheinlich, dass ebenfalls Soldaten aus den anderen, oben erwähnten Legionen anwesend waren, besonders denjenigen, die näher am Kriegsschauplatz
stationiert waren. In Zusammenhang mit dem obigen müssen wir die Bedenken
von L. Okamura als nicht völlig schlüssig zurückweisen.
Zu den Hilfstruppen der Kampagne des Jahres 213 n. Chr. gehörten mit höchster Wahrscheinlichkeit auch die rätische cohors I Breucorum, die im Lager Veto⁴⁴ CIL, XIII, 6317. Die Inschri wurde in der Umgebung von Wintersdorf am Rhein in der Nähe
von Straßburg gefunden. In ihr ist von einem Soldaten der legio VIII Augusta die Rede (es war Flavius Marinianus), der während eines Germanenfeldzuges starb. Wir haben allerdings keine völlige
Sicherheit, dass der Text der Inschri die Ereignisse des Jahres 213 betri — siehe Okamura 1984,
I, 56–57.
⁴⁵ Z.B. von Petrikovits 1980, 89; Schönberger 1985, 412; Kellner 1995, 317.
⁴⁶ Okamura 1984, I, 40.
⁴⁷ RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1319 (E. Rierling) („Jedenfalls wird die damalige militärische Kraentfaltung eine der größten und eindruckvollsten gewesen sein, welche seit den Tagen Domitians den
Gebieten im Winkel zwischen Oberrhein und Donau gegolten haben“); seine schon traditionellen
Zweifel äußert Okamura 1984, I, 35ff.
⁴⁸ Cass. Dio, 78.14.1; siehe von Gutschmid 1887, 35; Okamura 1984, I, 62–63.
⁴⁹ Okamura 1984, I, 126; die ese von Okamura wurde von Drinkwater (2007, 50) akzeptiert.
⁵⁰ AE 1985, 37.
⁵¹ AE 2004, 1143; vgl. auch Mráv und Oományi 2005.
210
 
niana (heute Pünz) stationiert war,⁵² sowie die cohors milliaria Hemesonorum aus
Intercisa (heute Dunaújváros) in Niederpannonien.⁵³
Die ellen übermieln uns leider keine Informationen über das Datum, an
dem die Expeditionstruppen aus Rom ausrückten. Es ist möglich, dass der Kaiser
die ewige Stadt entweder gegen Ende des Jahres 212 verließ⁵⁴ oder — was wesentlich wahrscheinlicher ist — im Frühjahr des folgenden Jahres.⁵⁵ Mit dem Abmarsch der römischen Truppen unter dem Kommando Caracallas ist eine ins Jahr
213 n. Chr. datierte Inschri in Verbindung zu bringen, die in der numidischen
Ortscha Phuensium (heute Bou Foua in Algerien) von der ganzen res publica
Phuensium zu Ehren der Göin Fortuna Redux Augusta und somit mit der Bie
um glückliche Rückkehr des Kaisers nach Rom geweiht wurde.⁵⁶ Wie es scheint,
begab sich Caracalla zuerst in die Provinz Gallia Narbonensis. Den Aufenthalt
des Kaisers in dieser Provinz können die bereits oben erwähnten Meilensteine
aus dem Gebiet des heutigen Südfrankreich (Umgebung von Nizza) bezeugen,
die — wie wir uns erinnern — in den Zeitraum zwischen dem 1. Januar und dem
6. Oktober 213 datiert werden.⁵⁷ Die nächste Etappe der Expedition war die Provinz Germania superior. Der Weg nach Germanien ührte mit Sicherheit durch
das Rhonetal, was von den im Gebiet der heutigen Schweiz gefundenen Meilensteinen (s. o.) bezeugt werden düre. In dieser Grenzprovinz machte Caracalla
sicherlich in Mogontiacum (heute Mainz) Station, der schon traditionellen Operationsbasis ür die Kampagnen gegen die Barbarenstämme. Dann begab er sich
in die Provinz Rätien. Die genaue Marschroute des Kaisers und seiner Truppen
ist nicht bekannt, doch besuchte Caracalla auf dem Weg möglicherweise Aquae
(heute Baden-Baden) und das rätische Kastell Abusina (heute Eining).⁵⁸
⁵² So Kellner 1995, 317 (Wiederholung einer bereits vorher geäußerten Hypothese ); kritische Analyse mit Zweifeln: Okamura 1984, I, 51–54. Zum Kastell Vetoniana siehe Baatz 1993, 308-310; Fischer,
Riedmeier-Fischer 2008, 139–141.
⁵³ RIU, V, 1139 = AE 1910, 133.
⁵⁴ So Reusch 1931, 26. Nisle 1866, 2, nimmt an, das der Kaiser Rom schon im Juni 212 verließ; als
wahrscheinlich nimmt ebenfalls Schumacher 1982, 79 das Jahr 212 an.
⁵⁵ So Okamura 1984, I, 13. Die Marschroute Caracallas (Rom — Gallia Narbonensis — Germania
superior — Raetia) rekonstruierte überzeugend Helmut Halfmann (1986, 223 und 225). Anderer Meinung ist Andreas Hensen (1994, 228), der annimmt, dass Caracalla erst Ende Juli — Anfang August
213 n. Chr. Rom verließ und sich unmielbar nach Rätien begab. Seine Rekonstruktion der Ereignisse stützt er auf die ins Jahr 213 n. Chr. datierten kaiserlichen Konstitutionen, was jedoch unter
den Forschern keine Zustimmung fand — siehe Kolb 2003, 21, Anm. 4. Verschiedene Hypothesen
zur Marschroute der Römer gibt Okamura 1984, I, 63–67.
⁵⁶ CIL, VIII, 6303.
⁵⁷ Siehe Anm. 28. Den Aufenthalt Caracallas in Gallia Narbonensis bestätigen ebenfalls die literarischen ellen. Nach dem Biogramm in der Historia Augusta (Car., 5.1) befahl Caracalla nach
seiner Ankun in Narbo einen uns namentlich unbekannten Provinzstahalter zu töten (Narbonensem proconsulem occidit, vgl. ebf. Meckler 1994, 138). In Gallien hielt er ebenfalls Gericht, was
von Philostratos bezeugt wird (VS, 2.32.1).
⁵⁸ Mit dem kaiserlichen Aufenthalt in Baden-Baden kann die Renovierung der ermen in Verbindung gebracht werden (CIL, XIII, 6301) sowie die Verleihung des Beinamens Aurelia an die civitas
    
211
Dann kommen uns wieder die epigraphischen ellen zu Hilfe. Aus den erhaltenen Fragmenten der Acta Fratrum Arvalium erfahren wir, dass am 11. August 213 der Kaiser die Grenze nach Rätien überschri (möglicherweise durch
das Limestor in der Nähe der heutigen Ortscha Dalkingen⁵⁹) und ins Barbaricum einmarschierte, um den Feind zu vernichten (per limitem Raetiae ad hostes
extirpandos barbarorum terram introiturus est).⁶⁰
Die ellen informieren uns allerdings nur knapp und uneindeutig darüber,
was nach dem Einmarsch der römischen Truppen ins Gebiet der Barbaren geschah. Da sie von mir bereits an anderer Stelle besprochen wurden,⁶¹ möchte
ich hier nur eine kurze Darstellung der Ereignisse geben. Nach dem Bericht des
Aurelius Victor sollen die Römer am Fluss Main einen Sieg über die Allamannen
errungen haben.⁶² Der wesentlich früher schreibende Cassius Dio informiert uns
ebenfalls über einen römischen Sieg, der aber … mit Geld gekau worden war.⁶³
Zu einem gewissen Zeitpunkt soll das Leben des Kaisers in Gefahr gewesen sein,
den ein gewisser Pandion⁶⁴ reete. Man darf aber nicht vergessen — was bereits
oben betont wurde — dass die Römise Gesite Dions ür diesen Zeitraum
nicht im Original überliefert ist, sondern nur in wesentlich jüngeren Abschriften. Einige flüchtige Erwähnungen in der Vita Caracallas in der Historia Augusta
sprechen von einem Sieg des Kaisers über die Germanen⁶⁵ (oder an einer anderen
Stelle im Text die Allamannen⁶⁶) und den Tod vieler Feinde unweit der Provinz
Rätien.⁶⁷ Zu diesem ema schweigt Herodian völlig.
Die epigraphischen ellen erlauben uns, einige Personen kennenzulernen,
die persönlich am Germanenfeldzug teilnahmen, und erweitern damit unser Wissen über die Einzelheiten der Kampagne des Jahres 213 n. Chr. Eine der wichtigsten Gestalten der Militärexpedition war zweifellos C. Octavius Appius Suetrius Sabinus.⁶⁸ Seine Karriere sowie die Rolle, die er in dem von Caracalla unAquensis — so Reusch 1931, 30. Kellner 1995, 318 verbindet allerdings den Aufenthalt des Kaisers
in Baden-Baden mit der Rückkehr des Kaisers nach dem Ende der Kampagne im Barbaricum. Zum
Besuch des Kaisers im Kastell Eining siehe Fischer und Spindler 1984, 27–28; Schönberger 1985, 412.
⁵⁹ So Hensen 1994, 245; die ese erscheint häufig in den Arbeiten zum Limes in Deutschland —
vgl. z.B. Kemkes u. a. 2002, 186–187; Klee 2006, 58–59; contra: von Petrikovits 1980, 317.
⁶⁰ CIL, VI, 2086, V. 20–22 = Acta Fratrum Arvalium, ed. F. Scheid, Fr. 99a, V. 20–22: (ante diem
tertium) id(us) Aug(ustas) in Capitolio ante cellam Iunonis Reg(inae) fratres convenerunt quod dominus n(oster) Imp(erator) sanctissim(us) pius M. Aurellius [sic!] Antoninus Aug(ustus) pont(ifex)
max(imus) per limitem Raetiae ad hostes extirpandos barbarorum terram introiturus est.
⁶¹ Królczyk 2010, 264–265.
⁶² Aur. Vict., Caes., 21.2.
⁶³ Cass. Dio, 78.14.2.
⁶⁴ Cass. Dio, 78.13.6; vgl. auch RE, XVIII.3, 1949, col. 518 (A. Stein, s.v. Pandion 10).
⁶⁵ SHA, Car., 5.5.
⁶⁶ SHA, Car., 10.6.
⁶⁷ SHA, Car., 5.4.
⁶⁸ Zu C. Octavius Appius Suetrius Sabinus siehe PIR², O, 25; Mommsen 1872; Barbieri 1952, 93,
Nr. 387; Saxer 1967, 49–50; Okamura 1984, I, 54–62; Okoń 2009, 100.
212
 
ternommenen Feldzug spielte, dokumentieren ünf bereits oben erwähnt antiken
Inschrien: eine aus der Hauptstadt Rom,⁶⁹ sowie jeweils eine aus Aquinum (heute Aquino),⁷⁰ Casinum (heute Cassino)⁷¹ und Histonium (heute Vasto)⁷² in Italien.
Der Name des Suetrius Sabinus erscheint ebenfalls — allerdings nicht im Zusammenhang mit der expeditio Germanica — in Inschrien aus Rom,⁷³ Beneventum
(heute Benevento)⁷⁴ und Interamna (heute Terni)⁷⁵ in Italien und darüber hinaus aus Aquincum (heute Budapest)⁷⁶ und Brigetio (heute Komorn/Komárom in
Ungarn)⁷⁷ in Niederpannonien, aus Nida (heute Frankfurt-Heddernheim)⁷⁸ und
Mogontiacum (heute Mainz)⁷⁹ in der Provinz Germania superior sowie den Ortschaen aya⁸⁰ und Henchir Ed Dekir⁸¹ in der Provinz Africa proconsularis.
Sabinus war, als der Krieg mit den Germanen ausbrach, Befehlshaber der in
Mogontiacum stationierten legio XXII Primigenia (legatus legionis XXII Primigeniae). Aus den bereits oben erwähnten Inschrien aus Aquinum, Casinum, Histonium und Rom ergibt sich, dass er dann von Caracalla zum Kommandeur der
Truppen des Germanenfeldzuges ernannt wurde. Die drei ersten der genannten
Inschrien benutzen ür Sabinus die Bezeichnung praepositus vexillaris (bzw. vexillationum) Germanicae expeditionis. Im Text der Inschri aus Rom findet sich
die Information, dass Suetrius Sabinus die Funktion eines dux vexillationum hae,
wobei präzisiert wird, dass er die Einheiten kommandierte, die aus den dakischen
und niedermösischen Legionen abgesondert worden waren: V Macedonica (vermutlich) und XI Claudia (mit Sicherheit). Aus den angeührten Beispielen ergibt
sich klar, dass Suetrius Sabinus an der Seite des Kaisers an dem Feldzug teilnahm.
Dies wird übrigens durch die beim Namen Sabinus im Zusammenhang mit dem
Germanenfeldzug benutze Bezeichnung comes Augusti bestätigt, die in allen oben
erwähnten Inschrien erscheint (mit Ausnahme der Inschri aus Casinum).
In der Forschung wurde die ese geäußert, dass C. Octavius Appius Suetrius
Sabinus in Mogontiacum von Caracalla zum Befehlshaber der ür den Germanenfeldzug abgesonderten Einheiten ernannt wurde, und dann den Kaiser auf dem
Weg zur Provinz Rätien begleitete und danach mit ihm den Limes überschri und
⁶⁹
⁷⁰
⁷¹
⁷²
⁷³
⁷⁴
⁷⁵
⁷⁶
⁷⁷
⁷⁸
⁷⁹
⁸⁰
⁸¹
CIL, VI, 1477 und 1551 = AE 1985, 37.
CIL, X, 5398.
CIL, X, 5178.
CIL, IX, 2848 = AE 1985, 332. Histonium war der Heimatort des Sabinus — siehe Okoń 2009, 100.
CIL, VI, 2131; 36899 = 31338a; 41194 = 31664 = 1476.
CIL, IX, 1609 = IDRE, 108.
CIL, XI, 4209.
CIL, III, 3428; 3429; 10405; 10439; 10491.
CIL, III, 4337 = RIU, II, 488.
CIL, XIII, 7352.
CIL, XIII, 11821.
CIL, VIII, 18834 = 5508.
CIL, VIII, 14684.
    
213
an den Kämpfen im Gebiet des Barbaricum teilnahm.⁸² Nach dem Feldzug wurde
ihm der Rang des Stahalters der Provinz Rätien (legatus Augusti pro praetore
provinciae Raetiae) und dann im Jahre 214 n. Chr. der Rang eines Konsuls verliehen. Mit diesen Funktionen endete seine erfolgreiche politische Karriere nicht,
doch würde ihre eingehende Beschreibung den Rahmen des vorliegenden Artikels sprengen.
Als comes imperatoris Antonini in Germania begleitete den Kaiser auf dem
Germanenfeldzug ebenfalls C. Iulius Avitus Alexianus (der Mann von Julia Maesa
und gleichzeitig der Großvater der späteren Kaiser Elagabal und Severus Alexander), der vorher die Funktion eines Legaten der legio IIII Flavia, des Stahalters
der Provinz Rätien und eines Konsuls innehae, was von einer Inschri aus dem
dalmatischen Salona bezeugt wird.⁸³ Erwähnenswert erscheint, dass eine ähnliche Ehre Alexianus bereits vorher zuteil geworden war: nach der selben Inschri
war er vorher comes imperatorum (duorum) Severi et Antonini in Britannia, d. h.
während der Militärexpedition nach Britannien in den Jahren 208–211 n. Chr. Mit
Sicherheit begleitete C. Iulius Avitus Alexianus Caracalla ebenfalls auf seinem
nächsten Feldzug, d. h. dem Partherfeldzug.⁸⁴
Emil Rierling äußerte die Vermutung, dass im Sommer 213 n. Chr. ebenfalls Q. Iunius intianus, der Stahalter der Provinz Obergermanien, den Limes
überquerte.⁸⁵ Wenn wir davon ausgehen, dass es wirklich so war, kennen wir
einen weiteren Namen der hohen Würdenträger, die an der Militärexpedition
beteiligt waren.
Die Inschrien geben uns ebenfalls Informationen über die einfachen Soldaten, die an der Kampagne teilnahmen. So gelobten z.B. Septimius intianus und
Aurelius Gentilis während des Germanenfeldzuges, dem kapitolinischen Jupiter
— dem Hauptgo des römischen Reiches — ein Denkmal zu setzen (voverunt in
espedicione Germica [sic!]), sicherlich mit dem Ziel einer glücklichen Heimkehr.
Sie erüllten ihr Gelöbnis,⁸⁶ was heißt, dass sie wohlbehalten zum Ort zurückkehrten, an dem ihre Einheit stationiert war. Wir wissen nicht, in welcher Einheit die
beiden Stier dienten. Der Ort, an dem die Inschri gefunden wurde (Budakeszi
in der Nähe von Budapest) erlaubt allerdings mit fast hundertprozentiger Sicherheit anzunehmen, dass sie Soldaten der legio II Adiutrix waren, die im antiken
Aquincum stationiert war.
⁸² Schumacher 1982, 79.
⁸³ AE 1921, 64; siehe auch Egger 1919; Halfmann 1982, 217–225; Okamura 1984, II, 420–426; Birley
2005, 225–226; zu C. Iulius Avitus Alexianus vgl. auch PIR², I, 192; Barbieri 1952, 70, Nr. 286.
⁸⁴ Halfmann 1982, 223.
⁸⁵ CIL, XIII, 6754 = AE 1975, 620; vgl. RE, XII.1, 1924, col. 1319 (E. Rierling). Analyse der in Mainz
gefundenen Inschri des Q. Iunius intianus: Christol 1975; vgl. auch PIR², I, 804; Eck 1985, 86.
⁸⁶ CIL, III, 3447 = RIU, VI, 1328. Aurelius Gentilis erscheint darüber hinaus in einer Inschri aus
dem Amphitheater von Aquincum/Budapest (CIL, III, 10493).
214
 
Soldat der legio II Adiutrix war ebenfalls Aurelius Constitutus, dem es allerdings im Unterschied zu den eben genannten nicht vergönnt war, nach Hause
zurückzukehren — er fiel im Verlauf des Feldzugs (cecidit in bello Germanico). Als
er starb, war er 24 Jahre alt und diente vier Jahre in der Einheit. Um die Errichtung
eines Grabsteins kümmerte sich sein Vater, Aurelius Catus, der Veteran einer
Hilfstruppe war (ala II racum).⁸⁷ Ein ähnliches Schicksal hae M. Domitius Super, der ebenfalls Angehöriger der in Aquincum stationierten Einheit war. Dieser
Soldat, der 32 Jahre und sechs Monate alt wurde, fiel im Germanenkrieg (defunctus bello Germanico).⁸⁸ Erwähnt werden muss ebenfalls Aurelius [- - -]nus, der
mit Sicherheit ebenfalls Soldat der legio II Adiutrix war (da der Sarkophag, in dem
er bestaet wurde, in Budaörs bei Budapest gefunden wurde) und der während
des Germanenfeldzuges starb.⁸⁹ Die im Text der Inschri benutzte Formulierung
defunctus expeditione Germanica morte sua bedeutet, dass er nicht im Kampf fiel,
sondern eines natürlichen Todes starb. Wir können natürlich nicht ausschließen,
dass er an Wunden, die er während des Feldzuges erli, verstarb. Die Inschri aus
Budaörs gibt uns noch weitere Informationen über den verstorbenen Soldaten.
Als er in Lauriacum in der Provinz Noricum starb (defunctus… Lauriaco), hae
er 23 Dienstjahre hinter sich, war also ca. 40 Jahre alt und damit kurz vor der
Entlassung aus dem Dienst. Wir können nicht feststellen, ob Aurelius [- - -]nus
während des Marsches der Legion nach Rätien oder auf dem Rückweg nach Hause starb. Wenn wir annehmen, dass der Tod infolge von Verletzungen, die er im
Krieg erlien hae, erfolgte, ist nur die zweite Möglichkeit zu berücksichtigen.
Aus den Betrachtungen über die Einheiten, die am Germanenfeldzug Caracallas teilnahmen, wissen wir, dass wir über eine gewisse Anzahl von Inschriften verügen, die mit höchster Wahrscheinlichkeit die Ereignisse des Jahres 213
n. Chr. betreffen (obwohl wir keine hundertprozentige Sicherheit haben). Die
Lektüre dieser Texte gibt uns Informationen über weitere Personen, die während
des Krieges fielen. Das waren: Flavius Marinianus (miles legionis VIII Augustae),⁹⁰
Aurelius Dizza (custos armorum legionis II Parthicae)⁹¹ und Tadius Exuperatus
(höchstwahrscheinlich miles legionis II Augustae).⁹² Des weiteren war Aurelius
Vitalis, miles legionis IIII Flaviae, einer in Obermösien stationierten Einheit, agens
expeditione Germaniae [sic!].⁹³
Der Aufenthalt der römischen Truppen jenseits des Limes dauerte nicht lange.
Das auf den 8. Oktober 213 n. Chr. datierte Fragment eines Protokolls der Arval⁸⁷
⁸⁸
⁸⁹
⁹⁰
⁹¹
⁹²
⁹³
RIU, V, 1183 (Intercisa/Dunaújváros).
RIU, V, 1228 (Intercisa/Dunaújváros).
AE 2004, 1143 (Budaörs); auch Mráv, Oományi 2005.
CIL, XIII, 6317 (Wintersdor).
CIL, XIII, 6231 (Borbetomagus/Worms).
CIL, VII, 126 = RIB, 369 (Isca/Carleon).
CIL, XIII, 6104 = ILS, 2310 (Noviomagus/Speyer).
    
215
brüder informiert uns, dass sich das Kollegium an diesem Tag auf dem Kapitol
vor dem Heiligtum der Juno versammelte und anläßlich des von Caracalla errungenen Sieges über die Germanen (ob salutem victoriamque Germanicam) den
folgenden römischen Göern opferte: Iuppiter Optimus Maximus, Iuno Regina,
Salus Publica, Mars Ultor, Iuppiter Victor, Victoria, Lares militares, Fortuna Redux,
Genius Imperatoris Antonini Augusti und Iuno Iuliae Piae matris Antonini Augusti
nostri, senatus, castrorum et patriae.⁹⁴ Dies bedeutet, dass man in Rom an diesem
Tag nicht nur vom Sieg des Kaisers wusste, sondern ihn auch feierte. Lawrence
Okamura bemerkte zu Recht, dass der Bote mit der Siegesmeldung ungeähr eine
Woche benötigte, um zur Hauptstadt zu gelangen, was bedeutet, dass der Sieg
über die Barbaren höchstwahrscheinlich Ende September errungen wurde. Der
ganze Feldzug dauerte folglich ungeähr sechs, höchstens sieben Wochen.⁹⁵
In Folge des siegreichen Germanenfeldzugs nahm Caracalla den Siegerbeinamen „überragender Sieger über die Germanen“ (Germanicus Maximus) an, der
seit dieser Zeit ür immer in seiner Titulatur erscheinen sollte und den vorherigen
Siegerbeinamen Britannicus Maximus langsam verdrängte, den der Kaiser noch
während des Britannienfeldzuges des Septimius Severus gewonnen hae.⁹⁶ Dies
bezeugen zahlreiche nach 213 entstandene Inschrien, die Caracalla erwähnen⁹⁷
und vermutlich ebenfalls das Biogramm des Kaisers in der Historia Augusta.⁹⁸
Gleichzeitig erlangte er die drie imperatorische Akklamation; die Abkürzung
imp. III erschien von nun an häufig im epigraphischen Material bei der Kaisertitulatur.⁹⁹
⁹⁴ CIL, VI, 2086, V. 22–29 = Acta Fratrum Arvalium, ed. F. Scheid, Fr. 99a, V. 23–29: Isdem
co(n)s(ulibus) pr(idie) non(as) Oct(obres) in Capitolio ante cellam Iunonis Reg(inae) ob salutem victoriamque Germanicam Imp(eratoris) Caes(aris) M. Aurelli [sic!] Antonini Pii Felic(is) Aug(usti) Part(hici)
Max(imi) Brit(annici) Max(imi) German(ici) Max(imi), pont(ificis) max(imi), trib(unicia) pot(estate)
(sexta decima), imp(eratoris) (tertium), co(n)s(ulis) (quartum), proco(n)s(ulis) et Iuliae Aug(ustae) piae
felic(is) m(atris) Imp(eratoris) Antonini Aug(usti) n(ostri), senatus, castrorum et patriae, fratres arvales
convenerunt.
⁹⁵ Okamura 1984, I, 12–13 und 34; anders Hensen 1994, 229, der annimmt, dass der Feldzug nicht
länger als 10–12 Tage dauerte.
⁹⁶ Kneissl 1969, 159–165; Kienast 2004, 163. Der Siegerbeiname Germanicus Maximus erschien in
der Kaisertitulatur zum ersten Mal am 20. Mai 213 (CIL, VI, 2086, V. 17 = Acta Fratrum Arvalium,
ed. F. Scheid, Fr. 99a, V. 17), also bevor Caracalla den Limes überquerte, was einige Forscher zur
Formulierung der Hypothese veranlasste, dass es im Frühjahr des Jahres zu einer ersten Kampagne
gekommen war, die der eigentlichen expeditio Germanica vorausging; dies meinen z.B. MacKenzie
1949, 34; Handy 2009, 85. Wir verügen allerdings nicht um genügend ellenhinweise, um diese
ese als wahrscheinlich anerkennen zu können. Es ist wohl eher ein Anachronismus des Steinmetzen, der den Text einmeißelte. Ausührlicher zu diesem ema vgl. Okamura 1984, I, 13–34,
besonders 15.
⁹⁷ Vgl. Mastino 1981, 120-123.
⁹⁸ SHA, Car., 5.5: et cum Germanos subegisset, Germanum se apellavit; Meckler 1994, 143–144. Die
Worte Germanum se apellavit kann man jedoch als „der sich Germane nannte“ übersetzen, deswegen wird der Text gelegentlich in German〈ic〉um se apellavit verbessert (so z.B. in der Edition von
E. Hohl in der Bibliotheca Teubneriana).
⁹⁹ Kienast 2004, 163; Mastino 1981, 107–110.
216
 
Gleich nach Beendigung der Kriegshandlungen erschienen die ersten Inschriften, die den von den Römern errungenen Sieg rühmen. Als Beispiel kann die ins
Jahr 214 n. Chr. datierte Votivtafel dienen,¹⁰⁰ die zu Ehren des syrischen Goes
Elagabal (deo patrio Soli Elagabalo) ür das Glück und den Sieg über die Germanen des Kaisers Caracalla (pro salute et Victoria Germanica Imperatoris Caesaris
M. Aurelii Severi Antonini Pii Felicis Augusti) von Soldaten der in Intercisa (Pannonia inferior) stationierten cohors I Hemesenorum angebracht wurde, die in der
Inschri den Ehrentitel Antoniniana trägt, der zweifellos durch die Teilnahme am
Krieg gewonnen worden war. Aufmerksamkeit verdient der Siegestitel Germanicus Maximus, der der Titulatur Caracallas beigeügt ist, der durch den Sieg im
Kampf mit den Germanen errungen wurde.
Äußerst interessant ist eine andere Inschri aus Intercisa, die um 210–212 angefertigt wurde, also noch vor dem Germanenfeldzug Caracallas. Sie wurde von
milites cohortis I milliariae Hemesenorum zu Ehren des Kaisers angebracht. Caracalla trug in ihr zuerst die Siegerbeinamen Parthicus Maximus und Britannicus
Maximus. Kurz darauf (terminus post quem bildet in diesem Fall der Oktober 213)
wurden sie mit einen neuen cognomen ex virtute ergänzt, der sich direkt auf die
Ereignisse des Jahres 213 bezog. Dies war nämlich der Siegerbeiname Germanicus
Maximus, der außerhalb des eigentlichen epigraphischen Feldes (in den Versen
5 und 6) eingeritzt wurde, das von der Oberfläche des Steins klar unterscheidbar
ist.¹⁰¹
Anlässlich des Sieges über die Germanen (ob Victoriam Germanicam) wurde
eine Inschri zu Ehren von Caracalla und seiner Muer Julia Domna verfertigt,
die auf dem Gebiet der antiken Provinz Obergermanien in der Nähe der heutigen
Ortscha Meimsheim in Baden-Würemberg gefunden wurde. Der Kaiser trägt
in ihr den Ehrentitel Germanicus, Julia Domna dagegen — mater castrorum.¹⁰²
Eine ähnliche Widmung, die in Medeina in der Provinz Africa proconsularis angebracht wurde und ebenfalls den Sieg über die Germanen (Victoria Germanica) ehrte, nennt Kaiser Caracalla — „Vater des Vaterlands“ (pater patriae) und
¹⁰⁰ RIU, V, 1139 = AE 1910, 133. Einige Forscher bezweifeln jedoch, dass diese Inschri den Germanenfeldzug Caracallas betri. Nach Ansicht von J. Fitz (1972, 101–102) entstand die Widmung zu
spät, um an den Sieg von 213 zu erinnern. Der ungarische Forscher glaubt eher, dass sie spätere
Kämpfe mit den Germanen in Pannonien betri. Ähnlich urteilt B. Lőrincz (2000, 166–167), nach
dessen Meinung die Inschri nicht mit dem Germanenfeldzug Caracallas verbunden ist, sondern
mit dem vermuteten Krieg gegen die aden im Jahre 214 n. Chr. Zs. Mráv und K. Oományi (2005,
205) zeigen dagegen überzeugend, dass die uns interessierend Inschri mit ziemlicher Sicherheit
die Militärexpedition des Jahres 213 betri.
¹⁰¹ RIU, V, 1140: Imp(eratori) Caes(ari) M(arco) | Aurelio Severo | Antonino Pio | Felici Aug(usto)
Part(h)i(co) Brit(annico) | Max(imo) pont(ifici) max(imo) G e r (m a n i c o) | M a x i (m o) coh(ors)
I (milliaria) Hemes(enorum) | Aurel(ia) Anto|niniana sag(iariorum) c(ivium) R(omanorum) devo|tissima nu|mini eius (die im Jahre 213 n. Chr. hinzugeügten Wörter wurden gesperrt gedruckt).
¹⁰² CIL, XIII, 6459. Der Siegerbeiname Germanicus sta Germanicus Maximus erschien in der Titulatur Caracallas äußerst selten; die Beispiele bei Mastino 1981, 54, Anm. 208.
    
217
„überragender Sieger über die Germanen“ (Germanicus Maximus), Julia Domna
— „Muer des Kaisers, des Senats, der Lager und des Vaterlands“ (mater Augusti
et senatus et castrorum et patriae) sowie das gesamte Kaiserhaus (totiusque domus
divinae).¹⁰³
Die Einwohner wiederum des ebenfalls in der Provinz Africa Proconsularis
gelegenen Munzipiums Uchi Maius (heute Henchir Douémis in Tunesien) errichteten mit öffentlichen Mieln (pecunia publica Uitanorum) auf Beschluss des
Rates der Dekurionen (decreto decurionum) ein Denkmal, dass an die Siege Caracallas über die Parther, Briten und Germanen erinnert, wobei der letzte besonders
hervorgehoben wurde, indem er als der größte bezeichnet wurde (Victoria Germanica maxima).¹⁰⁴
An den germanischen Erfolg Caracallas erinnert auch eine Inschri, die im
antiken Munzipium Verecunda in der Provinz Numidia (heute Markouna in Algerien) gefunden wurde, die mit den Worten Victoriae Germanicae Aug(usti) beginnt.¹⁰⁵ Für die Anbringung der Inschri war C. Iulius Secundinus verantwortlich, Vertreter der Munizipialaristokratie in Verecunda. Der unmielbare Anlass
war die Tatsache, dass Secundinus die Würde eines flamen perpetuus erlangte;
dieses Ereignis wurde mit dem zur gleichen Zeit im gesamten römischen Reichsgebiet gefeierten Sieg über die Germanen verbunden.
Mit großer Wahrscheinlichkeit können wir ebenfalls annehmen, dass den Sieg
über die Germanen eine in Leányfalu in der Umgebung von Ulcisia Castra (heute
Szentendre in Ungarn) gefundene Inschri verewigt. Sándor Soproni schlug vor,
ihren nicht erhaltenen Anfang folgendermaßen zu rekonstruieren: [Pro sal(ute)
et Victoriae] | d(omini) n(ostri) Marc(i) A[ur(elii) Severi] | Antonini pii felicis Augusti.¹⁰⁶
Vermutlich muss mit den Ereignissen des Jahres 213 n. Chr. die Tatsache verbunden werden, dass an den Hauporen der Kastelle im Taunus (Germania superior) und in der Provinz Rätien neue Inschrien erschienen.¹⁰⁷ Genau ins Jahr
213 n. Chr. werden die Inschrien aus der Saalburg¹⁰⁸ und dem Kastell Holzhausen¹⁰⁹ datiert. Vermutlich stammen die Inschrien aus den Kastellen Zugmantel,
Feldberg und Kapersburg¹¹⁰ aus dem selben Zeitraum. In den oben genannten Inschrien aus der Saalburg und aus Holzhausen (im letzten Fall von der im Kastell
Holzhausen stationierten cohors II Antoniniana Treverorum) wurde der Kaiser mit
dem Siegerbeinamen „unbesiegter Augustus“ (invictissimus Augustus) geehrt.
¹⁰³
¹⁰⁴
¹⁰⁵
¹⁰⁶
¹⁰⁷
¹⁰⁸
¹⁰⁹
¹¹⁰
CIL, VIII, 27773.
CIL, VIII, 26243 = AE 1908, 261.
CIL, VIII, 18494 = 4202.
RIU, III, 842; Soproni 1980, 49.
Vgl. Schönberger 1985, 412–413.
CIL, XIII, 7465a.
CIL, XIII, 7616; AE 1898, 9 und 63.
Schleiermacher 1958, 160.
218
 
Des weiteren wurde in der entfernten Provinz Africa Proconsularis in der
Ortscha ugga (heute Dougga in Tunesien), auf Initiative des Rates der Dekurionen ein templum Victoriae Germanicae Domini nostri errichtet (terminus post
quem ist der Dezember 213 n. Chr.).¹¹¹ Der Sieg Caracallas über die Germanen
erhielt auf diese Weise eine eigentümliche religiöse Weihe.
Bei der Zusammenfassung unserer Erörterungen ist besonders zu betonen,
dass die epigraphischen ellen eine außergewöhnlich wichtige Rolle ür die Rekonstruktion der Militärexpedition Caracallas gegen die Germanen spielen, die
im Spätsommer des Jahres 213 n. Chr. erfolgte. Diese Feststellung erhält ein besonderes Gewicht durch die Tatsache, dass die Berichte der literarischen ellen
in diesem Falle mehr als spärlich sind. Die Analyse der Inschrien erlaubte uns,
die offizielle Bezeichnung des Germanenfeldzuges herauszufinden (d.h. meistens
expeditio Germanica), seinen zeitlichen Rahmen zu bestimmen und die römischen
Einheiten, die an diesem Feldzug teilnahmen zumindest annährend festzustellen sowie Personen, sowohl aus der nächsten Nähe des Kaisers, als auch unter
den einfachen Soldaten, zu identifizieren, die in dieser Kampagne kämpen. Im
Zusammenhang damit sind wir berechtigt festzustellen, dass die Bedeutung der
Inschrien ür unser Wissen über die expeditio Germanica, die Kaiser Caracalla
persönlich leitete, sich kaum überschätzen lässt.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
LUCIAN OF SAMOSATA’S HOW TO WRITE HISTORY
AND ITS KNOWLEDGE IN HISTORICAL METHODOLOGY
IN POLAND OF THE PAST CENTURIES
I L
T
he Antiquity le us only one treatise devoted to the method of historical
writing. Yet there had been more of them. e first — as we read in Cicero¹
— was to have been wrien by Aristotle’s disciple, eophrast (372–287),
of which nothing survived, however. e author of the treatise which had been
preserved was a several centuries younger Greek rhetor, satirist and philosopher,
Lucian (Lukianos) of Samosata (ca. 125 — ca. 195), a city in Syria, on the Euphrates,
the most eminent representative of the so-called second sophistry.² Aer studies
of rhetoric, he performed the function of a court spokesman in the nearby Antioch. He journeyed much in Asia Minor, Greece, Italy and Gaul; he would stay in
Rome, Athens, Ephesus, Smyrna, Marseille. He spent the closing years of his life
in Egypt, holding the post of a head of chancellery to the Roman governor.
Lucian was an extraordinarily prolific writer.³ Apart form numerous rhetorical writings on mythical and historical topics, most oen in the form of dialogues, besides many critical panegyrics and treatises, he also wrote a treatise
on historiographic theory, in spite of not having been a historian himself, strictly speaking. When listening to historians reciting the products of their cra, this
brilliant rhetor and a highly accomplished expert on historiography was scandalized at their frivolous, mendacious and panegirycal manner in which the events
were presented. erefore in the dialogue-treatise entitled How to write history (Πῶς δεῖ ἱστoρίαν συγγράφειν; De historia conscribenda),⁴ he published his
own reflections in the maer. His methodological remarks were composed in
his characteristic style, which rendered him the opportunity to combine serious
¹ Cic., Or., 39.
² On Lucian of Samosata (Asia Minor) and his works: Podbielski 2005, II, 271–293; Świderkówna 1982; Gaertner 1975, III, 772–777; Sinko 1959, II, 587–652; Bogucki 1957 (introduction); Bogucki
and Madyda 1960–1963, I (introduction of W. Madyda); RE, XIII.3, 1927, col. 1725–1777 (R. Helm,
s.v. Lukianos).
³ e surviving works include 82 pieces of prose, two tragic parodies, 53 epigrams.
⁴ Editions: Harmon et al. 1913–1967, VI, 1–73 (with translation in English); Jacobitz 1921, I–III;
Dindorf 1858, II, 1–25; Sommerbrodt 1857, 5–54.
221
222
 
methodological deliberations with observations which were ironic, mocking, jocular, tragicomic, which ridiculed and derided his contemporary historians, whom
the Parthian War (162–165) caused to sprout in profusion.
As the author of a treatise on the methodology of history, Lucian sets himself
the goal of demonstrating a correct method of proceeding in such a weighty and
difficult task that is the writing of history. Nevertheless, he humbly confesses:
I do not promise to take anyone you like and make him an historian; no merely to
demonstrate to a man who is intelligent by nature and well trained in expressing
himself certain direct routes (if indeed that is what they appear to be) which if he
will use them will help him more quickly and more easily to the aainment of his
goal.⁵
e treatise is divided into two parts; in the first (1–26) he criticizes the then historians, using numerous examples to reveal the flaws and shortcomings of their
skill, while in the second (27–63) specifies the methods and paths that a writer
should follow in order to create historiography that befits the name. As a reference model, which was in accordance with the contemporary trend of resorting
to the classics, he takes the works of Greek historians from the classical period,
and from the highest shelf at that, with ucydides above all, and then Herodotus
and Xenophon as well. Although in his work he desires to give the [historians] a
lile advice and these few precepts, we shall see that his guide will contain quite
a considerable amount of commonsensical criticism and advice of a great erudite
and a keen observer. Recalling these reflections — despite almost nineteen centuries that have elapsed since their writing — is by no means useless in our times,
and at more than one point it provides food for thought and contemplation on
the state of contemporary historiography as well.
Irrespective of the satirical convention, Lucian is nevertheless serious in his
treatment of writing about history and the job of a historian. e treatise is addressed to a largely undefined Philo, to whom the author addresses the words:
[Historiography] … is not one of those things that can be put in hand without effort
and can be put together lazily, but is something which needs, if anything does in
literature, a great deal of thought if it is to be what ucydides calls “a possession for
evermore”.⁶
Meanwhile, in Lucian’s view, the poor contemporary historians are, first, not so
much concerned with the presentation of events, but with panegyrical and subjective portrayals of rulers and commanders, which they oen achieve through
lies.⁷ Second, they mix the art of historiography with the art of poetry:
⁵ Lucian., Hist., 35 — all translations by K. Kilburn (Harmon et al. 1913–1967, VI, 1–73).
⁶ Lucian., Hist., 5; he will repeat it on 42; uc., 1.22.
⁷ Lucian., Hist., 7.
  ’    
223
So it is a great deal — all too great a fault — not to know how to keep the aributes
of history and poetry separate, and to bring poetry’s embellishments into history —
myth and eulogy and the exaggeration of both.⁸
ird, some are of the opinion that the goal of history is pleasure and benefit,
whereas Lucian claims that history has one task and one end — what is useful —
and that comes from truth alone.⁹ Fourth, it does not befit a historian to slavishly
emulate other works, both with respect to the substance as well as style.¹⁰ Fih,
in the historical style one should neither utilise elaborate language interspersed
with foreign words nor a language which is prosaic and ordinary.¹¹ Sixth, poor
historians fail to grasp what is important and what is not, and are prone to exaggeration in every respect.¹² Seventh, they write solemn, pompous and diffuse
prefaces, aer which they include meagre content, commit spelling mistakes and
fabricate geographical facts.¹³ Eighth, they use every means to make a historical
tale curious, omit or treat important events cursorily, while pondering lengthily over inconsequential details, and declaring untruthfully that they write from
experience, which in their opinion is allegedly more credible that the accounts
of others.¹⁴ Eventually, ninth, there are so-called historians who tend to devote
too short a space to a voluminous material to call their work a history.¹⁵ Having
expressed the criticism, which for the sake of conciseness has been presented in
points here, the methodologist embarked on a positively-oriented disquisition.
In the second part, Lucian answers the questions: what a historian should be
like, what means he should utilise to accomplish his aim by the shortest route,
how to begin, how to arrange his material, the proper proportions for ea part,
what to leave out, what to develop, what it is beer to handle cursorily, and how
to put facts into words and fit them together.¹⁶ He makes a reservation that his
teachings may only be successful when a candidate historian is wise by nature
and educated.
I maintain then — Lucian writes — that the best writer of history comes ready
equipped with these two supreme qualities — political understanding and power of
expression; the former is an unteachable gi of nature, while power of expression
may come through a deal of practice, continual toil, and imitation of the ancients.¹⁷
⁸
⁹
¹⁰
¹¹
¹²
¹³
¹⁴
¹⁵
¹⁶
¹⁷
Lucian., Hist., 8.
Lucian., Hist., 9.
Lucian., Hist., 15.
Lucian., Hist., 15–16.
Lucian., Hist., 20.
Lucian., Hist., 23–24.
Lucian., Hist., 27–29.
Lucian., Hist., 30.
Lucian., Hist., 6.
Lucian., Hist., 34.
224
 
At a later point he repeats and extends the catalogue of virtues of a perfect historian who should not only have the ability to understand and express himself [and
be] keen-sighted, but also be well up on practice, be it in times of peace — in public
offices, or in the times of war — at various posts and in various situations.¹⁸ He
repeats with emphasis that a future historian must above all be a man whose mind
is free; he should not be afraid of anyone nor count on anything, be unsusceptible
to bribery and do not let himself be guided in his judgements either by partiality
or by hate.¹⁹ Lucian states verbatim:
at, then, is the sort of man the historian should be: fearless, incorruptible, free, a
friend of free expression and the truth, intent, as the comic poet says, on calling a
fig a fig and a trough a trough, giving nothing to hatred or to friendship, sparing no
one, showing neither pity nor shame nor obsequiousness, an impartial judge, well
disposed to all men up to the point of not giving one side more than its due, in his
books a stranger and a man without a country, independent, subject to no sovereign,
not reckoning what this or that man will think, but stating the facts.²⁰
According to the antique methodologist, historian’s sole task is to tell the tale
as it happened.²¹ He should reconstruct it as accurately as his senses allow, and
hence should not twist anything, colour nor distort.²² Lucian requires that one
be unconditionally faithful to the truth; someone undertaking to write history
should know that only to Truth sacrifice must be made […] everything else he must
ignore.²³ It is so, since aim of writing a historical work is the benefit of the reader,
especially the future one, and that reader demands that an account of true events
is given. Aim at eternity and prefer to write for posterity²⁴ — writes Lucian. Such
were the tasks that ucydides had set himself as well. is aitude is not that
frequent with ancient historians, as most had in view chiefly the benefit and glory
of their contemporary generation. Truth and benefit are inseparably linked: the
more of the truth, the greater the benefit, the less truth, the smaller the benefit. A
historian has to remember that he does not create reality, but only reconstructs
it.
¹⁸ Lucian., Hist., 37: A man with a mind of a soldier combined with that of a good citizen, and a
knowledge of generalship; yes and one who has at some time been in a camp and has seen soldiers
exercising or drilling and knows of arms and engines; again, let him know what “in column,” what
“in line” meann, how the companies of infantry, how the cavalry, are manoeuvred, the meaning of
“deploy” and “invest”, in short not a stay-at-home or one who must rely on what people tell him.
¹⁹ Cf. Tacitus’ famous: sine ira et studio [without anger or favour] (Ann.,1.1.3) and in eque cum
amore et sine odio [neither with love nor with hate] (Hist.,1.1.3).
²⁰ Lucian., Hist., 41.
²¹ Lucian., Hist., 39.
²² Lucian., Hist., 51.
²³ Lucian., Hist., 39.
²⁴ Lucian., Hist., 61 and 39.
  ’    
225
What is the historian’s modus procedendi according to Lucian? First, he should
be thorough in collecting material concerning the events (inventio), which he essentially does by personal observation, and when this is impossible, he will obtain
it from reliable witnesses, in other words such which are free from the feeling of
hate or from favour; the amassed material will be subjected to critical assessment.
Whereas he should not collect the material in a haphazard manner, but according to the criterion of importance; one should disregard pey and less significant
things, but gather the crucial ones.²⁵ In history, bales are oen described. Here
Lucian provides authors with detailed guidelines; namely, they should pay aention to the qualifications of the commanders, to their speeches to soldiers, to the
manner, aim and plan of arraying troops, the course of the bale, flight or pursuit.²⁶ As regards geographical facts provided in a history, concerning mountains,
rivers or strongholds, one should maintain moderation and quote only as many as
the benefit and clarity of the account dictates. One should proceed likewise in the
accounts relating to all other circumstances, for instance plague which appeared
during the war or the way in which cities were laid siege to. Once the historian
has collected the material, he should first make a dra, abridged version, in the
form of epitome, an outline, and only then introduce order, that is distribute the
material (dispositio) and season it with the delights of expression, figures and
rhythm (elocutio).²⁷
As a rhetor, Lucian devoted much aention to the ways of preparing historical material. A chronicler should begin with the ordering of the facts (dispositio),
then write a lucid introduction, if the situation requires, or just explain what the
discourse will concern.²⁸ By highlighting, in the introduction, the significance,
necessity, benefit of the discussed maers, by brief statement of the causes and
the outline of the main events, he will arouse curiosity of the reader. is is
what Herodotus and ucydides had done.²⁹ Aer the preface which may vary
in length, there will follow a long, continuous account, which should possess a
transparent construction, flow smoothly and at an even pace, be devoid of humps
and hollows. and have finely clustered and mutually linked facts and events.³⁰
With respect to language and style (elocutio), Lucian says on several occasions
that a historian should write clearly and lucidly, in an equable tone:
He […] need not show a well-wheed proficiency in that vehement, incisive style that
you know, packed with periods, and intricate with logical reasoning or other features
²⁵
²⁶
²⁷
²⁸
²⁹
³⁰
Lucian., Hist., 47 and 56.
Lucian., Hist., 49–50.
Lucian., Hist., 48.
Lucian., Hist., 51–52.
Lucian., Hist., 53–54.
Lucian., Hist., 54–56.
226
 
of clever rhetoric. No, his tone should be more pacific, his thought coherent, of a kind
to set forth the subject with the utmost clarity and accuracy.³¹
He makes detailed observations that one should not use words which are mysterious, enigmatic, bizarre, market-place and shallow. e language of a historian cannot indeed be poetic, but one may approach it at times, if elevated and
pathos-filled content presents itself. However, in this respect a historian must
practice a far-reaching moderation, just as in the manner of connecting words,
which should not spring too far from one another nor become combined in rhythmical phrases.³²
Starting with Herodotus and ucydides, speeches were an element of historical style. Lucian also accepts them in historiography; he only demands that
they be composed with greatest possible clarity and be suited to the character of
the speaker and to the circumstances which may arise. Eulogy and censure will be
careful and considered, free from slander, supported by evidence, cursory, and not
inopportune, for those involved are not in court.³³ He even allows the speeches to
be fied with fairy tales, in which one may believe or not.³⁴
When composing his ars historica, Lucian most probably had in mind the
handbooks of rhetoric or poetics, which contained general advice on style, including historical prose. We do not know of any treatise on the theory of historiography in its own right, which existed at the time. Still, he owed much of
the material directly to the perusal of the great historiography of the classical
period, chiefly to ucydides, rather leaving aside the principles of Hellenistic
historiography which may for example be found in the work of Dionysius of
Halicarnassus.³⁵
e above ideas and postulates of the outstanding representative of the second
sophistry were to draw aention to the shortcomings of so-called historians, who
were active in the Greek east of the Roman Empire in the 2ⁿᵈ century AD. It seems,
however, that the impact of Lucian as a theoretician of historiography was rather
inconsiderable. We do not learn that his work was used or referred to by the later
ancient historians, although it is a fact that he was known and appreciated by
rhetor Libanios and sophist historian Eunapios, while among Christian writers
he was quoted by Lactantius.³⁶ ere is no information that Lucian’s treatise on
history was used by Byzantine authors, who knew and imitated many of his other
writings.³⁷
³¹
³²
³³
³⁴
³⁵
³⁶
³⁷
Lucian., Hist., 43.
Lucian., Hist., 44–47.
Lucian., Hist., 57–59.
Lucian., Hist., 59.
Scheller, 1922; Waltz, 1922.
Sinko 1959, II, 645ff.
Sinko 1959, II, 645; Jurewicz 1984, passim.
  ’    
227
Only in the Renaissance would Lucian’s historiographic treatise begin to be
propagated. A Latin translation by Wilibald Pirckheimer came out in 1515, which
contributed to its wider spread. Numerous historical methodologists, who around
the middle of the 16ᵗʰ century began to spring up like mushrooms, would be
eagerly resorting for wisdom to the single treatise the Antiquity had le us. It
started with an Italian humanist, Francis Robortello, who, in 1548, published in
Florence the first modern treatise on the methodology of history entitled De facultate historica disputatio (Treatise on the historical skill) where many concepts
from Lucian could be found. He was followed by his disciples and other authors
of independent theoretical works concerning historiography. is is not the place
to present the significance of Lucian’s treatise for the European historiographic
thought of the Age of Renaissance, as the issue is too broad and requires further
studies. Nevertheless, it is certain that the presence of Lucian in Renaissance historians is meaningful. In this article, I will constrain myself to demonstrating the
knowledge of Lucian’s work and its utilisation in Latin historical methodologies
in Poland of the past centuries.
e first ars historica to be wrien by a Pole was a small treatise by Stanisław
Iłowski entitled De historica facultate libellus (Treatise on the historical skill), published in Paris in 1556 and the following year in Basel.³⁸ e author, son of the
voivode of Płock, Alexander, received thorough education in rhetoric, literature
and law; the excellent Hellenist was a graduate of foreign universities and of
the Academy of Cracow; among others, he studied in Padua with the aforementioned Robortello, and obtained the degree of the Doctor of Laws in Bologna. In
the chapter ae oratio in scribenda historia tenenda sit (In what style to write history?), Iłowski, justifying his conciseness, uers words of praise about the Greek
theoretician: In the presentation of this maer we shall be concise, be it due to the
fact that it had been analysed by Lucian in the treatise “How to write history”, or
for the reason that more detailed deliberations of the style we have decided to adjourn to a later occasion. In the subsequent chapter, Narrationis historici praecepta
(e principles of historical presentation) he quotes the aforementioned antique
source to support the principle that history should be free of lies and fabrications
of any kind, as well as from excessive praise. Finally, in the chapter De materia historicorum (On historical material), justifying yet again his being concise in
the presentation of the issue of historical maer, he states that on the subject
of history much had been wrien by Dionysius of Halicarnassus,³⁹ Lucian and
Robortello.
³⁸ Lewandowski 1976a–b; 1983.
³⁹ Dionysius from Halicarnassus, in the 1ˢᵗ century BC, rhetor and historian, among others, author
of Roman Antiquities (Romaike araiologia; Antiquitates Romanae) and On the Style of ucydides
(Peri tu ukidydu arakteros; De ucidydis sermone).
228
 
Lucian’s work was also used as reference by Jan Firlej of Dąbrowica, the author of Oratio de studio historico (An oration on the study of history), published in
Heidelberg in 1604. is magnate’s son studied at the famous German university
under the tutorship of historians Johan Gruter and Salomon Neugebauer. at
was where he delivered and published a paper on the benefit of the science of
history. In it, he drew particularly on antique sources, of which Lucian’s treatise
was one. e speaker informs that the Greek author had formulated principles
concerning the art of history writing, in which history was stated to be the only
teacher of speaking and doing of what is best, for it exemplifies, how good acts
may be done and the evil ones avoided.⁴⁰
Another methodologist of the old Poland who knew and quoted Lucian was
a Gdańsk-born Bartłomiej Keckermann (1572–1609), a professor at the renown
Gdańsk Gymnasium. He studied at several Western universities, but his predominant aachment was to the university in Heidelberg. Among numerous other
works, he also wrote in Gdańsk the voluminous, unfinished treatise entitled De
natura et proprietatibus historiae commentarius (Treatise on the nature and properties of history) (1610) which was published posthumously by his disciple. In the
second chapter of the supplement (Auctarium), De iis autoribus qui scripserunt
de historia in genere et de ratione historiae condendae (On authors who write on
history in general and on the manner of composing a history) the Gdańsk professor
mentions two authors of Antiquity who expressed their views on historiographic
theory, Lucian and Dionysius of Halicarnassus. On the former he writes: Lucian
considered the issue of historical truth in a short work, from whi the most important findings we have noted in its right place. Yet, in the very De natura, the author
first drew upon Lucian’s short stories entitled e true histories (Verae historiae).
And thus, in the third chapter, entitled e properties of history, he recalls how
the Greek sophist, in his customary manner, mocks the historians who usurp
unshakable credibility. And yet — Keckermann writes — one cannot recognize it
[i.e. the unshakable credibility — I.L.] due to the nature and the property of history
or rather due to the impotence of man who fails to gain thorough knowledge of all
individual phenomena and events.⁴¹ He quotes Lucian for the second time, who in
the same True Histories laughs at authors who describe as true the events which
are remote in time and space, and which cannot be verified. Keckermann advises
historians to proceed with utmost caution and moderation.⁴² With respect to Lucian’s treatise, Keckermann made a note of the proposition concerning the goal
of historiography, which is to supply examples, so as to learn how to speak best
⁴⁰ Firlej 1604, 16: Lucianus quoque, cuius exstant praecepta de scribenda historia, sapienter inter
cetera ait suppeditare historiam velut unicam indubitatam magistram ea dicendi et faciendi quae
sunt optima, aemulatione quidem bonorum, fuga vero malorum.
⁴¹ Keckeremann 1610, 25; Ogonowski 1979, 14.
⁴² Ogonowski 1979, 18.
  ’    
229
and to act best by looking to the best paerns and avoiding the worst.⁴³ As we
have seen before, the same was quoted by Jan Firlej in his Oration.
e next methodologist of history (1588–1656), an eminent polyhistor, an exceedingly prolific author in Latin and Polish, graduate of the Academy of Cracow
and an inadvertent student — as a caretaker of magnates’ sons — of many universities in Western Europe, wrote a fairly extensive treatise entitled Penu historicum
seu de dextra et fructosa ratione historias legendi commentarius (Historical fare or
the treatise on the proper and useful manner of reading history) (1620). Among the
very numerous modern theoreticians of history he also mentions the name of
the antique sophist.⁴⁴ It is difficult to state what Starowolski owes to Lucian as
a methodologist of history, as the concurrence of their views does not aest to
anything much, since they may be encountered in many other methodologies
of the Renaissance and the Baroque, which our author might have chosen to
use. at Lucian was known to Starowolski is aested not only by a mention
in Penu historicum, but also through quotes in his other works, for instance in
Hekatontas seu centum illustrium Poloniae scriptorum elogia et vitae (A centenial
or a hundred laudatory lives of illustrious Polish writers) (1625), where he mentions
Lucian’s treatise On astrology (De astrologia), or in the Righteous knight and the
Reformation of the Polish mores, in which he includes quotes from his Praise of the
homeland (Patriae encomium).⁴⁵
e treatise of Lucian demonstrates how great an importance was aached
in the ancient times to the appropriate presentation of history, both in terms of
the substance as well as the form. e author does not define — as we may see it
in the modern treatises — the essence of historiography, its extent and divisions,
but focuses, first and foremost, on determining the qualifications of a historian,
on the manner in which the material is collected and presented, on indicating the
misrepresentations and distortions which are a menace to the work. Lucian is a
steadfast representative of the utilitarian trend in historiography. His influence
on the European theoretical thought is marked in numerous treatises beginning
with the 16ᵗʰ century, and his presence is also evident, albeit not to a substantial
degree, in independent treatises of theoreticians associated with Poland of the
Renaissance and the Baroque.
Bibliography:
Primary sources:
Bogucki K., Madyda W. (ed.), 1960–1963, Lukian, Dialogi, I–III, przełożył K. Bogucki (I–II)
i W. Madyda (III), wstęp napisał i komentarzem opatrzył W. Madyda, Wrocław.
⁴³ Keckermann 1610, 52: Lucianus lib. de scribenda historia dicit historiam suppeditare, ut optima
dicamus et faciamus, quae possimus aemulatione optimorum et fuga pessimorum.
⁴⁴ Lewandowski, 1991, 6.
⁴⁵ Lewandowski, 1991, 55, 250 and 299.
230
 
Dindorf G. (ed.), 1858, Luciani Samosatensis Opera, II, 1–25. Lipsiae.
Firlej J., 1604, Oratio de studio historico… a Ioanne Firleio B. de Dambrowicza, Heidelbergae.
Harmon A.M. et al. (ed.), 1913–1967, Lucian with an English translation, I–VI, London.
Iłowski S., 1556, De historica facultate libellus, Basileiae.
Jacobitz C. (ed.), 1921, Luciani Samosatensis Opera, I–III, Lipsiae.
Keckermann B., 1610, De natura et proprietatibus historiae commentarius, Hanoviae.
Keckermann B., 1979, Właściwości historii, przełożył F. Wujtewicz, in Filozofia i myśl społeczna
XVII wieku, Część 2: Wybrał, opracował, wstępem i przypisami opatrzył Z. Ogonowski, Warszawa.
Madyda W. (ed.), 1957, Lukian, Pisma wybrane, przełożył i opracował W. Madyda, Warszawa.
Sommerbrodt J. (ed.), 1857, Ausgewählte Srien des Lucian, Berlin.
Starowolski S., 1620, Penu historicum seu de dextra et fructuosa ratione historias legendi commentarius, Venetiae;
Starowolski S., 1625, Scriptorum Polonicorum Hekatontas seu centum illustrium Poloniae scriptorum
elogia et vitae, Frankfurt.
Starowolski S., 1648, Prawy rycerz.
Starowolski S., 1650, Reformacyja obyczajów polski [see Lewandowski 1991].
Secondary sources:
Gaertner H., 1975, Lukianos, in Der Kleine Pauly, III, 772–777.
Jurewicz O., 1984, Historia literatury bizantyńskiej. Zarys, Wrocław.
Lewandowski I., 1976a, Początki teoretycznych rozważań nad historią w Polsce (Stanisław Iłowski,
zm. 1589), Historyka 6, 43–55.
Lewandowski I., 1976b, Traktat Polaka Stanisława Iłowskiego o historii jako nauce. Przekład z komentarzem, Historyka 6, 91–98.
Lewandowski I., 1983, De historica facultate libellus de Stanislas Iłowski. Les premières réflexions
théoriques sur l’histoire en Pologne, Storia della Storiografia 4, 71–83.
Lewandowski I. (ed.), 1991, Szymon Starowolski, Wybór z pism, przekład tekstów łacińskich, wybór
i opracowanie I. Lewandowski, Wrocław.
Podbielski H. (ed.), 2005, Literatura Grecji Starożytnej, I–II, Lublin.
Scheller P., 1911, De hellenistica historiae conscribendae arte, Lipsiae.
Sinko T., 1951, Literatura grea, III.1: Literatura grea za cesarstwa rzymskiego, Kraków, 367–444.
Sinko T., 1959, Zarys historii literatury greiej, Warszawa, II, 587–652.
Świderkówna A. (ed.), 1982, Słownik pisarzy antyczny, Warszawa.
Waltz I., 1922, Die gesitlien Kenntnisse des Lukianos, Tübingen.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE MILITARY COINS OF CALIGULA AND CLAUDIUS
THE TYPES ADLOCVT. COH., IMPER. RECEPT. AND PRAETOR. RECEPT.
I Ł
T
he sesterce (sestertius) with the legend ADLOCVT. COH. was first minted
in Rome in 37 AD under Caligula (37–41 AD)¹. On the obverse there is
Caligula’s head, turned le and decorated with a laurel wreath. e legend on the observe says: C(aius) CAESAR AVG(ustus) GERMANICVS PON(tifex)
M(aximus) TR(ibunicia) POT(estas).² On the reverse of this coin there is a scene
with Caligula. e princeps, bare-headed and in a toga, is standing on a dais (suggestus). Behind Caligula there is the sella castrensis. Caligula is turned le and
his right hand is raised towards a group of five soldiers (pedites praetoriani). e
praetorians, helmeted, armed with shields (scuta) and narrow daggers (parazonia)
and carrying four standards (aquilae), are standing or marching at Caligula’s feet.
e whole scene is accompanied by a legend: ADLOCVT. above and COH. below
it.³
e reverse of this type of sesterce presents a meeting of Caligula with the
soldiers who served in the praetorian cohorts. According to Cassius Dio, the princeps, accompanied by senators, inspected the praetorians when he visited their
barracks (castra praetoria) in Rome.⁴ Caligula watched their military exercises
and received their parade. He also delivered a speech (adlocutio) to them.⁵ e
praetorians were rewarded by Caligula personally with the sum of 1.000 sesterces each, in accordance with Tiberius’ last will (legata ex testamento Tiberi).⁶ An
additional 1.000 sesterces every soldier of the praetorian cohorts received from
Caligula directly.⁷
¹ Sutherland 1976, 31; Salamone 2004, 25; Sommer 2005, 336.
² RIC, I, Gaius, 23; I², Gaius, 32.
³ Rossi 1967, 27; Rossi 1996, 142.
⁴ Cass. Dio, 59.2.1; Edmondson 1992, 134.
⁵ Cf. Pina Polo 1995, 213–216.
⁶ PIR², C, 941. Tiberius made a will in which he bequeathed his private property (res privata);
Edmondson 1992, 133.
⁷ Cass. Dio, 59.2.1; Hurley 1993, 57; Foss 1990, 60; Burgers 2001, 106.
231
232
 
In the opinion of C.H.V. Sutherland, the sestertius with the legend ADLOCVT.
COH. may have been minted as a commemoration of Caligula’s address to the
praetorians and distributed among them as part of the payment.⁸ Unfortunately,
Cassius Dio did not specify when exactly the meeting took place. One may also
wonder at the lack of initials S(enatus) C(onsulto) on the reverse of the sesterce,
especially since as it was issued at the mint in Rome, which was officially under
the senate’s control.
Caligula was hailed as emperor (imperator = princeps)⁹ by the praetorians
and soldiers of the Roman fleet stationed in Misenum on March 18, 37 AD (dies
imperii), i.e. two days aer the death of Tiberius (14–37 AD). Senators were also
present at Misenum.¹⁰ On that same day, intus Naevius Macro, the praetorian
prefect, went to Rome.¹¹ His mission was to present Tiberius’ last will to the consuls and senators and to persuade them to render it annulled because Tiberius had
bequeathed his position to Caligula and to Tiberius’ grandson Tiberius Gemellus.
e laer was only 17 at the time and had not yet adopted the toga of manhood
(toga virilis). Since Tiberius Gemellus was not strictly an adult, he could not be
granted the title of the princeps. Senators approved the request of intus Naevius Macro and formally annulled Tiberius’ will.¹²
Caligula himself arrived in Rome on March 28. A day later, i.e. on March 29,
the body of the deceased Tiberius was brought and his public funeral took place
on April 3, 37 AD. e official meeting of Caligula with the Senate probably occurred on the day of his arrival in Rome, i.e. on March 28, or two days later,
on March 30. e meeting was aended by senators, equestrians and ordinary
people. e Senate granted to Caligula the power and authority over all things
(ius arbitriumque omnium rerum) in the Roman state, which moved him from the
status of a private citizen to the princeps of Rome. In this way he was granted the imperium proconsulare, the tribunicia potestas and the office of pontifex
maximus.¹³ He accepted the title of the Father of the Fatherland (pater patriae)
with the approval of the Senate on September 21, 37 AD.¹⁴ Caligula, according
to Suetonius, gave himself other unofficial titles, such as: Pius, Optimus Maximus
⁸ Sutherland 1951, 109 and 114; 1976, 31.
⁹ Cf. Barre 1989, 58 (e praenomen Imperator, adopted by Octavian, was avoided by Tiberius
and Caligula in Rome, although it is aested as having been briefly used in the provinces).
¹⁰ Tac., Ann., 6.50; Suet., Tib., 75; Cal., 13; Smallwood 1967, 28, no. 31; Vidman 1982, 43, no. 37;
Braund 1985, 76, no. 174; Barre 1989, 53–56 (n. 28) and 266; Edmondson 1992, 133; Lindsay 2002,
77.
¹¹ PIR¹, N, 10. intus Naevius Macro arranged Caligula’s proclamation by the troops at Misenum
and then set off for Rome — Edmondson 1992, 133.
¹² Cass. Dio, 59.1.1–2. Caligula ignored Tiberius’ will. intus Naevius Macro had Tiberius’ will
declared null and void on the grounds that Tiberius was mad — Edmondson 1992, 133–134; Lindsay
2002, 77.
¹³ Suet., Cal., 14; Cass. Dio, 59.6.1–2; Barre 1989, 56–57; Wardle 1994, 153–154.
¹⁴ AE 1983, 95; Edmondson 1992, 136.
      
233
Caesar, Castrorum Filius and Pater Exercituum. None of them, however, appeared
on his coins or inscriptions.¹⁵
Caligula paid Tiberius’ and Livia’s legacies fairly and without undue delay.¹⁶
In his last will Tiberius le 45 million sesterces to the people (congiarium populo).
e first congiarium was given on June 1, 37 AD — this was the money which they
had failed to receive in 31 AD, when Caligula received the toga of manhood (toga
virilis). e second bequest to the people was made on July 19, 37 AD and was
probably planned as commemoration of Caligula’s first consulship.¹⁷ Tiberius’
bequests amounted to 1.000 sesterces to the praetorians,¹⁸ 500 sesterces to the
cohortes urbanae and 300 sesterces to the vigiles and the legionaries.¹⁹
Caligula’s meeting with praetorians, mentioned above, could have taken place
before his departure from Rome, which occurred a few days aer the public funeral of Tiberius on April 3, 37 AD. Caligula then went to the islands of Pandataria
and Pontia to bring back the bones of his dead mother Agrippina and his brother
Nero.²⁰ Before leaving, he had to meet with the soldiers of the praetorian cohorts
to officially present himself to them as Rome’s new ruler. e meeting could
have taken place directly aer his visit in the Senate (March 28–30) and before
his journey to the islands (the beginning of April).
When Caligula was visiting the praetorian’s barracks (castra praetoria) in
Rome, he delivered his ceremonial speech or “address to the praetorian cohorts”
— ADLOCVT(io) COH(ortium).²¹ According to the legend on the observe of this
type sestertius, Caligula already held the tribunicia potestas and the office of pontifex maximus. e lack of initials S(enatus) C(onsulto) on the reverse of the sesterce may suggest that Caligula ordered to mint this type of coin without the
permission of senators. He could also have been responsible for gathering the
metal needed for the emission. e lack of initials S(enatus) C(onsulto) referring
to the Senate could be also the first sign of Caligula’s autocracy and a record of
his preference for the role of the master (dominus) and not the princeps of Rome.
e lack of this formula seems to suggest that Caligula followed the principle that
the right to communicate with and to command the soldiers of the Roman army
belonged only to him. Finally, he could have decided himself what kind of images
and legends should be placed on the obverse and the reverse the sesterce. Alter-
¹⁵ Suet., Cal., 22; Barre 1989, 58; Hurley 1993, 84–85; Wardle 1994, 202–204; Lindsay 2002, 102.
¹⁶ Suet., Cal., 16; Cass. Dio, 59. 2.1–4.
¹⁷ Suet., Cal., 17; Vidman 1982, 43, no. 37; Edmondson 1992, 134; Lindsay 2002, 89.
¹⁸ Caligula doubled the legacies to the praetorians — Wardle 1994, 172.
¹⁹ Suet., Cal., 16 and 17; Cass. Dio, 59.2.2–3; 59. 2.6; Hurley 1993, 57; Lindsay 2002, 86.
²⁰ Tac., Ann. 6.25; Suet., Tib., 54; Cal., 14–15; Edmondson 1992, 137; Hurley 1993, 41 and 44–45.
²¹ Sutherland 1951, 114; RIC, I², Gaius, 9; Sommer 2005, 337. Vel ADLOCVT(io) COH(ortis) — Rossi
1967, 24.
234
 
natively, Caligula might have consulted the maer with people in his immediate
surroundings.²²
Later, during the time of Caligula’s reign in Rome (39–40 and 40–41 AD), this
type sesterce was issued twice. e coins looked the same as those issued for
the first time.²³ e legend ADLOCVT COH and the princeps’ meeting with the
soldiers were also presented on the reverse of Nero’s (54–68 AD) sesterce.²⁴
Two types of the coins which relate directly to the circumstances of Claudius’
seizure of power (41–54 AD) might also have been inspired by the said Caligula’s
sesterce with the legend ADLOCVT. COH.²⁵ In the years 41–42 AD Claudius ordered to prepare two types of coins in the Roman mint which were represented
by both the aurei and the denarii. On the obverse of first type there is Claudius’
bust. His head is turned right and is decorated with a laurel wreath. e legend
on the observe says: TI(berius) CLAVD(ius) AVG(ugustus) P(ontifex) M(aximus)
TR(ibunicia) P(otestas). On the reverse there are praetorian barracks (castra praetoria) in Rome. At the top of the balement enclosing the praetorian camp there
is the inscription IMPER. RECEPT. A soldier is standing on the balement, turned
le, a spear in his right hand. In front of him there is the aquila. Behind the soldier
there is a pediment with fortified flanking walls.²⁶
Claudius’ head, turned right and decorated with a laurel wreath, also appears
on the obverse of the second type of coin. e emperor’s bust is surrounded
by the legend TI(berius) CLAVD(ius) CAESAR AVG(ustus) P(ontifex) M(aximus)
TR(ibunicia) P(otestas). On the reverse there are two persons. To the le there is
Claudius himself, bare-headed and wearing a toga. e princeps is turned right
and is shaking hands with a long-haired soldier, turned le, an eagle (aquila) in
his le hand and a shield slung on one side. e scene is surrounded with the
legend PRAETOR RECEPT.²⁷
ere is a clear link between these two types of coins and the events that
took place in Rome at the beginning of 41 AD. On January 24, during the ludi
Palatini, Caligula was murdered. Among the successful conspirators there were
a few tribunes and centurions who served in the praetorian cohorts. Military and
civilian members of the conspiracy were united by a common goal: to kill a hated
emperor. ey did not know what might happen in the wake of the deed. Most of
them only wished to restore the republic in Rome, though there were also some
who wanted to replace the assassinated Caligula.²⁸
²²
²³
²⁴
²⁵
²⁶
²⁷
²⁸
Cf. Sutherland 1947, 58–59; RIC, I², Gaius, 3, 6–7, 9, 14–17 and p. 105; Sutherland 1983, 80–81.
RIC, I², Gaius, 40 and 48.
Cf. RIC, I², Nero, 95–97; Salamone 2004, 25–26ff.
PIR², C, 942; Burgers 2001, 107–108.
RIC, I, Gaius, 22; I², Gaius, 7 (au.) and 8 (den.).
RIC, I, Gaius, 38; I², Gaius, 11 (au.) and 12 (den.).
Ioseph., AI, 19.17–76; 19.96–113; 19.153–156; 19.251–253; Suet., Cal., 56 and 58; Wiseman 1991,
      
235
Senators, upon hearing of Caligula’s assassination, gathered in the curia and
the Roman plebs arrived in the forum. e consuls issued an edict in which, on
the one hand, they accused Caligula, and on the other, they ordered the soldiers
and the plebs of Rome to remain calm and to stay in the barracks and in their
homes. Besides, the consuls promised tax lis for the people and a payment of
the salary to the soldiers, if the laer remain calm and refrain from violence.²⁹
An address was delivered to the senators by Cnaeus Sentius Saturninus,³⁰ who
said that he had the honour to rejoice in the freedom with them all, and that aer
years the Senate regained supreme power in the Roman state. Nobody stood now
above the Senate and nothing would longer limit it. He suggested then that the
killers of Caligula, especially the tribune Cassius Chaerea,³¹ should receive the
highest honours. In Cnaeus Sentius Saturninus’s opinion this would be the first
free act taken by the senators.³²
However, the seizure of power by the senators, as it later turned out, did not
arouse much enthusiasm. In fact, the rule of the princeps in the Roman state was
accepted not only by many inhabitants of Rome, but also by some members of the
Senate.³³ Also the praetorians were against a possible return of the Republic, as
their formation was closely connected with the princeps. e praetorian cohorts
were formed to secure the safety of the ruler and the soldiers were under his
direct control. Changing the forms of power in the Roman state, i.e. restoring
the republic, could lead to the liquidation of the cohorts as a separate military
unit. Aware of this danger, praetorians, as reported by Josephus Flavius, conferred
among themselves as to what to do next.³⁴
A solution came when Gratus, a praetorian soldier, found Claudius, Caligula’s
uncle, hiding in the palace and worried about his safety.³⁵ e praetorians hailed
Claudius as emperor. en the frightened Claudius was placed in a sedan chair
and moved to the praetorian camp, where he was received very favorably. us,
the night of January 24–25, 41 AD Caligula’s uncle spent in the barracks, where
he was protected by the guard of praetorian soldiers.³⁶
In the praetorian camp, Claudius met a delegation of senators who tried to
dissuade him from adopting the imperial power. It was also there that he met
47–56, 59–64, 97–98; Hurley 1993, 197–201ff.; 207–212; Lindsay 2002, 162–164 and 168–170; Wardle
1994, 352–358, 362–367.
²⁹ Ioseph., AI, 19.158–161; Wiseman 1991, 71–73.
³⁰ PIR², S, 296.
³¹ PIR², C, 488.
³² Ioseph., AI, 19.166–185; Wiseman 1991, 75–79; Łuć 2010, 143.
³³ Cf. Ioseph., AI, 19.115; 19.128–131; 19.158–160; 19.227–228; 19.251–254; Suet., Claud., 10; Wiseman 1991, 65, 67, 71–72, 91, 97–98; Hurley 2001, 97.
³⁴ Ioseph., AI, 19.162-165; Wiseman 1991, 73–74.
³⁵ PIR², G, 223.
³⁶ Ioseph., AI, 19.212; 19.216–226; 19.229; Suet., Claud., 10; Wiseman 1991, 86–92; Hurley 2001,
97–101; Łuć 2010, 144.
236
 
with his friends who in turn persuaded him to do this. On January 25, 41 AD,
the soldiers of the praetorian cohorts made an oath of loyalty (sacramentum)
to Claudius as the commander-in-chief, followed by the soldiers of the urban
cohorts, the senators and the rest of the population of the capital. erefore the
praetorian camp was, on the first day of Claudius’ reign in the Roman state, the
headquarters of the new princeps.³⁷
Both of the coin types mentioned above were minted to commemorate the
first anniversary of Claudius’ reign in Rome. e coin with the inscription IMPER. RECEPT. on the wall of the praetorian barracks commemorated the events
that took place on January 24 and 25, 41 AD, i.e. Claudius’ arrival at the praetorian camp. e inscription on the wall of the praetorian barracks can be read
as: IMPER(ator) RECEPT(us),³⁸ IMPER(atore) RECEPT(o)³⁹ or IMPER(atoris) RECEPT(us).⁴⁰ e phrase can be translated as “the acceptance of the emperor”, “the
emperor accepted” (by the praetorians to their camp) or even “the place of the
emperor’s refuge”. Regardless of the version, the inscription refers to the praetorians’ aitude to Claudius on that day, for which the emperor wanted to show
his gratitude. e princeps was thankful not only for the protection he received
but also for the support in obtaining power.
e reverse the second type of coin, where Claudius is shaking hands with a
praetorian soldier, probably refers to another event of January 25, 41 AD. During
the submission of the oath of loyalty by the soldiers in the praetorian camp, the
Emperor, in his speech to the Guard, promised that he would pay each soldier of
the praetorian cohorts the donativum of 15.000 sesterces.⁴¹
e legend on the reverse of this coin can be read as: PRAETOR(ianus) RECEPT(us),⁴² PRAETOR(iani) RECEPT(i)⁴³ or PRAETOR(ianis) RECEPT(is),⁴⁴ which
means “the acceptance of the praetorians” or “the praetorians accepted (by the
emperor)”.
e scenes portrayed on the reverses of both coins, in addition the historical
context and the details presented (i.e. the outline of the camp, the praetorian
soldiers or the figure of Claudius), also expressed the idea of Fides.⁴⁵ is interpretation is suggested by the gesture of the shaking of the hands (dextrarum
³⁷ Ioseph., AI, 19.229–266; Sutherland 1951, 123; Wiseman 1991, 91–100.
³⁸ Suet., Claud., 10 ([Claudius] receptus intra vallum inter excubias militum pernoctavit); Instinsky
1952–1953, 7; Maingly 1967, 153; Levick 1982, 109; Campbell 1984, 36; Hurley 2001, 97–98.
³⁹ IMPER(atore) RECEPT(o) — Durry 1938, 366 (“réception du prince”).
⁴⁰ Forcellini, Totius Latinitatis Lexicon, 1871, V, 97 (Ipse quoque locus, in quem se quis tuto recipit);
Łuć 1997, 24.
⁴¹ Suet., Claud., 10; Durry 1938, 366; Campbell 1984, 81 and 166–167; Hurley 2001, 100.
⁴² Maingly 1967, 153; Campbell 1984, 36.
⁴³ Levick 1982, 109.
⁴⁴ PRAETOR(ianis) RECEPT(is) — Durry 1938, 366 (“réception des prétoriens”).
⁴⁵ Maingly 1967, 162; Salamone 2004, 36–37 — PRAETOR(ianus) RECEPT(us in fidem). Cf. Freyburger 1986, 200.
      
237
iunctio), which was a typical sign-symbol of this idea. erefore, the inscriptions
on the coins can be completed as follows: PRAETOR(ianus) RECEPT(us in fidem
imperatoris),⁴⁶ which could mean “the adoption of a praetorian soldier to the trust
or under the protection of emperor Claudius”.⁴⁷ e inscription IMPER. RECEPT.
could also stand for IMPER(atore) RECEPT(o in fidem praetorianorum),⁴⁸ which
should probably be understood as “the adoption of the emperor to the trust or
under protection of the praetorian soldiers”, as evidenced by the fact of proclaiming him the princeps of Rome and making the oath of fidelity.
Claudius, to commemorate the events thanks to which he could assume office,
decided to pay the soldiers of the praetorian cohorts the sum of 100 sesterces, i.e.
25 denarii every year.⁴⁹ Importantly, these coins were re-issued in subsequent
years. us, copies of the IMPER. RECEPT. type were minted in the years 43–44,
44–45 and 46–47 AD, and those with the legend PRAETOR. RECEPT. in the years
43–44 and 44–45 AD.⁵⁰
e idea of Fides, connected with Roman soldiers, appeared officially on the
coins associated with Vitellius (January 2 — December 20, 69 AD). On the reverses
of these coins there was both the scene with the shaking of the hands and the
legends FIDES EXERCITVVM and FIDES PRAETORIANORVM.⁵¹
e types of coins minted in Rome on the initiative of Caligula and Claudius
were to show their encounter with the soldiers of the praetorian cohorts. eir
other aim was to commemorate the fact that both of these emperors seized power
in the Roman state with the approval of the soldiers. e scenes and contents of
the legends placed on the coins were thus to illustrate a particularly strong bond
uniting the two rulers with the Roman army.⁵²
e coins minted on these emperors’ initiative were also a sort of the propaganda, an appeal addressed to the Roman senate, the plebs of the city and
the inhabitants of the Roman state. ey also constituted a kind of manifesto
of Caligula and Claudius addressed to the praetorians, and more broadly to the
soldiers of the entire Roman army.
Bibliography:
Barre A.A., 1989, Caligula. e Corruption of Power, London.
Braund D., 1985, Augustus to Nero: A Sourcebook on Roman History 31 B.C. — A.D. 68, London.
Burgers P., 2001, Coinage and State Expenditure: e Reign of Claudius AD 41–54, Historia 50,
96–114.
⁴⁶ Clay 1982, 43.
⁴⁷ Vel PRAETOR(iani) RECEPT(i in fidem imperatoris).
⁴⁸ Clay 1982, 43.
⁴⁹ Cass. Dio, 60.12.4.
⁵⁰ Type IMPER. RECEPT. — RIC, I², Claud., 19, 20, 25, 26, 36; type PRAETOR. RECEPT. — RIC, I²,
Claud., 23, 24, 29.
⁵¹ Cf. Łuć 2005, 403–405ff.
⁵² Cf. Foss 1990, XVII.
238
 
Campbell J.B., 1984, e Emperor and the Roman Army 31 B.C. — A.D. 235, Oxford.
Clay C.L., 1982, Die Münzprägung des Kaisers Nero in Rom und Lugdunum, I: Die Edelmetallprägung der Jahre 54 bis 64 n. Chr., Numismatise Zeitsri 96, 7–52.
Durry M., 1938, Les Cohortes prétoriennes, Paris.
Edmondson J., 1992, Dio: e Julio-Claudians. Selections from Books 58–63 of the Roman History of
Cassius Dio, London.
Foss C., 1990, Roman Historical Coins, London.
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Hurley D.W., 1993, An Historical and Historiographicla Commentary on Suetonius’ Life of C. Caligula,
Atlanta.
Hurley D.W. 2001, Divus Claudius, Cambridge.
Instinsky H.U., 1952–1953, Kaiser Claudius und die Prätorianer, Hamburger Beiträge zur Numismatik 2, 7–8.
Levick B.M., 1982, Propaganda and the Imperial Coinage, Antithon 16, 104–116.
Levick B.M., 1990, Claudius, London.
Lindsay H., 2002, Suetonius Caligula, London.
Łuć I., 1997, Pretorianie na monetach cesarza Klaudiusza, Lubelskie Wiadomości Numizmatyczne 6,
21–25.
Łuć I., 2005, CONCORDIA PRAETORIANORVM i FIDES PRAETORIANORVM na denarach z roku
69 n.e., Przegląd Historyczny 96.3, 403–419.
Łuć I., 2010, Excubiae principis. Geneza i zadania żołnierzy kohort pretoriański w starożytnym
Rzymie, Poznań.
Maingly H., 1967, Roman Coins from the Earliest Times to the Fall of the Western Empire, London
(rep.).
Pina Polo F., 1995, Procedures and Functions of Civil and Military contiones in Rome, Klio 77,
203–216.
Salamone G., 2004, L’imperatore e l’esercito. Tipi monetali di età romano-imperiale, Falzea – Reggio.
Smallwood E.M., 1967, Documents Illustrating the Principates of Gaius, Claudius and Nero, Cambridge.
Sommer M., 2005, Der Kaiser spricht. Die adlocutio als Motiv der Kommunikation zwischen
Herrscher und Heer von Caligula bis Konstantin, in Krieg — Gesellsa — Institutionen.
Beiträge zu einer vergleienden Kriegsgesite, herausgegeben von B. Meißner, O. Schmi,
M. Sommer, Berlin, 335–353.
Speidel M.P., 1992, Germani Corporis Custodes, in idem, Roman Army Studies, II, Stugart, 105–119.
Sutherland C.H.V., 1947, e Personality of the Mints under the Julio-Claudian Emperors, American
Journal of Philology 68, 47–63.
Sutherland C.H.V., 1951, Coinage in Roman Imperial Policy 31 B.C. — A.D. 68, London.
Sutherland C.H.V., 1976, e Emperor and the Coinage. Julio-Claudian Studies, London.
Sutherland C.H.V., 1983, e Purpose of Roman Imperial Coin Types, Revue Numismatique 25,
73–82.
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Affini 69, 15–38.
Rossi L., 1996, „Riding for Caesar” Can’t Win’em All: Conflicting Iconography of the Imperial Guard
on Roman Coins and Monuments, Rivista Italiana di Numismatica e Scienze Affini 97, 141–145.
Wardle D., 1994, Suetonius’ Life of Caligula, Bruxelles.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
AN UNKNOWN VERSION OF PRIVILEGIUM SLAVICUM
P M
A
pocryphal and forged documents played their role in the world history. e Leer of prester John encouraged European explorers, treasure
hunters and missionaries to search for John’s marvellous kingdom; the
Protocols of the Elders of Zion have been still inflaming anti-Semitic minds; the
domination of pope had been underpinned by the Donatio Constantini. Fere libenter homines id, quod volunt, credunt.¹ e aim of this contribution is to analyse
how one of such documents, called usually Privilegium Slavicum, functioned and
found its way into 17ᵗʰ — century record books of Lublin gród. It is also a study
on usage and poten­tial of common ancient heritage, so oen exploited to prove
ones rights, justify deeds and claims.
e Lublin version of Privilegium was inserted into one of the record books
(closed in 1629 — it is terminus post quem) of local gród, a court for the contemporary gentry. e inscription, together with an oblatum formula, runs as follows
(division into paragraphs according to Pfister²):
Oblata Privilegij D(omi)norum Sclavoru(m) Ad Offic(ium) et Acta pr(aese)ntia Capitan(ealia) Castren(sia) Lublinen(sia) p(ersonali)t(e)r veniens n(obi)lis Maximinus
Ianussius Suchodolec famulus G(e)n(er)osi Stanislai Lubieniecki no(min)e totus nobi­litatis scalvoni et obtulit et exhibuit offi(ci)o pr(aese)nti privilegium infrascriptum,
Illustri prosapia et lingva D(omi)norum Scalvorum per Alexandrum Regem 〈sibi〉³
datum, petens hoc idem privilegium perpetuae memoriae gra(ti)a(m) a nobis in acta
nostra permodum oblatae suscipi, cuius affectationi nos annuendo, privi­legium hoccae de verbo ad verbum hic insert mandavim(us) in eum qui sequitur modum (§2) NOS
ALEXANDER PHILIPpi Regis Macedonum Hyeres Monarha figuratus. Graecorum
Imperij Inchoator magni DEI Iovis Filius Narctubon nunciatus Allocutor, Bragmundoram et Arabum Solis et Lunae conculiator Dominus mundi ad ortu Solis iisq(ue) ad
occidentem a Meridiae usq(ue) ad Septentrionem (§3) Illustri prosapia(e) et linguae
Dominorum Sclavorum gratiam et pacem a nobis succ(ess)oribusq(ue) nostris. (§4)
oniam adfuistis nobis semper in fide veraces, et armis strenui, coadiutores bellicosi et Robusti, dam(us) et consesimus Vobis libere, et in perpetuum Totam plagam
¹ Caes., BG, 3.18.
² Pfister 1961.
³ Original: canceled.
239
240
 
Terrae ab Aqvilone usq(ue) ad fines Italiae meridionalis, ut nullus ibi audeat permanere, habitare residere, aut se locare nisi vestrates; od Si quis alter inventus fuerit
ibi manens; sit vester servvs et sui posteri servi vestrorum posterorum. (§5) Datu(m)
in Civitate nostra novae fundationis Alexandria; fundata super magno fluvio Aegipti
Nilo, Anno XII Regnorum nostrorum, aspirantibus magnis DIJS Iove Marte, Plutone
et maxima DEa Minerva. (§6) Testis autem huius rei Illustris Lecutea aulicus noster
et alij principes Vndecem, quos nobis sine prole decedentib(us), relinquimus nostros
haerdes et totus orbis. ALEXANDER REX.
is is of course not an official inscription — it is one of numerous jocular notes,
rhymes, and quasi-official records made by the scribes (podpiskowie), usually
clerks of the lowest rank within the gród staff. e presence of this particular
inscription was noted by Maria Trojanowska,⁴ more aention paid it also Janusz
Łosowski.⁵ Both were unaware what it in fact was.
Text of the Privilegium survived in Latin, Polish, and Czech versions.⁶ e
causes of its composition, authorship, aims and circulation already became a
maer of scientific controversions.⁷ For this time it is assumed (thanks to Pfister’s conclusions) that two main redactions of the text exist — I and II⁸ — and the
redaction I prevails among existing and known specimens of the Privilegium. e
Lublin inscription is with no doubt Pfister’s redaction I. Łosowski⁹ stated that the
clerks used a version published by Stanisław Sarnicki,¹⁰ but when you juxtapose
these two texts, you see considerable differences.
Firstly, it is necessary to determine what was the source of inspiration for
the clerks while composing their text. e second step is to find if Privilegium’s
history can explain the clerks’ motives. is should show their goals and allowe
⁴ Trojanowska 1981, 12.
⁵ Łosowski 2006, 150 and 154.
⁶ It is almost sure that there are Serbian or Croatian versions, but I have not found them. It can
be also suggested, that there were Greek versions as well.
⁷ See Ślęczka 2003, 64–71.
⁸ Pfister 1961, 339–345.
⁹ Łosowski 2006, 154.
¹⁰ Which based on Cyllenius, cf. Sarnicki 1587, 46–47: Nos Alexander Philippi Macedonum Aros,
Monariae ac Graecorum Imperator, Magni Iouis filius per Arthemum nunciu(s), Allocutor Bramanorum, & Arabum, solis & lunae conculcator, Persarum ac Medorum domitor, dominus ab ortu
solis vsque ad occasum, a meridie vsque ad septemtrionem, Illustri prosapiae Illyriorum populorum,
Dalmatiae, Liburniae caeterarumque eiusdem idiomatis & linguae gentium ad Danubium, & medias
regionum sedes incolentium, gratiam, pacem, atque salutem a nobis & succesoribus nostris succedentibus nobis in gubernatione nostra mundi. oniam semper nobis affuistis veraces in fide, in armis
strenui, nostri coadiutores bellicosi atque robusti, damus & conferimus vobis libere & in perpetuum
totam plagam terrae ab aquilone vsque ad fines Italiae Meridionalis, vt nullus valeat ibi manere vel
residere, seu ibi locare, nisi vestrates: et si quis alius inventus fuerit morari, sit serwus vester, & postea
sint serui posterorum vestrorum. Datum in civitate nostra noua Alexa(n)drina fundata super magna
Nili flumina. Anno XII. regnorum nostrorum arridentibus magnis Diis, Ioue, Plutone, Marte & maxima Dea Minerua. Testis huius rei Aetas, Iaxis, Legatias, & alii principes XI quos nonis sine prole
decedentibus relinquimus nostros haeredes & totius orbis terrae; see Ulewicz 1950, 189.
     
241
to insight into the cultural role played by antiquity in the 17ᵗʰ century Rzeczpospolita.
Friedrich Pfister knew four Latin manuscript versions¹¹ of the Privilegium, and
that makes the Lublin text the fih one. Four of them were wrien in 17ᵗʰ century;
and the oldest one in 1516. Printed version are more numerous.¹² e narration
of the Privilegium is more or less stable, and there are not too many differences
between extant specimens, handwrien or printed. e copies are distinguished
usually by different stylizations of Alexander’s titulature, list of witnesses and
datation.
e titulature of Alexander in the Latin Privilegium is very sophisticated and
developed. Nos Alexander Philippi regis Macedonum is common among Latin versions, only Sarnicki omied regis. More important is hyeres, monarha figuratus —
Pfister’s standard version of redaction I prefers hircus monariae figuratus, other,
like manuscript B and C, Cyllenius and Sarnicki have aros — just Paprocki (and
his follower Balbinus) share this phrase with Lublin clerks. Graecorum imperii
inoator is again to be found in the Pfister’s standard I. Magni dei Iovis filius is
also common with slight differences — summi (Paprocki), summi dei (Balbinus),
magni Iouis (Sarnicki).
Narctubon nunciatus Allocutor, Bragmundoram et Arabum, Solis et Lunae conculiator is interesting, because it is an echo of the Alexander romance. Narctubon
is a corrupted version of name Nectanebo — Nectanebo II, Egyptian pharaoh, legendary father of the greatest king of Macedon. Nectanebo also foreseen Alexander’s successes and rule.¹³ is connection has historical basis. It is probable that
the Egyptians created an ideological interpretation of Macedonian conquest giving Alexander a native origin, even before the Ptolemies (the same happened
later in Persia¹⁴) — just like they had already done earlier with Cambyses. Another thing is, that probably Alexander’s body had been temporarily deposited
in Nectanebo’s sarcophagus.¹⁵ e Lublin clerks had not known the Romance —
¹¹ Pfister 323–324.
¹² Here for the sake of comparison are used the ones given by Pfister and Paprocki’s, cf. Paprocki 1602, 6: Nos Alexander Philippi Regis Macedonum haeres, Monara figuratus per Nectanabum
annunciatus, Summi Dei Iouis filius, allocutor Bramanorum, Solis & Lunae conculcator, a Solis
ortu ad Occasum, a Septentrione ad meridiem Dominus, Illustri prosapiae ac Linguae Slauorum Massagetisq(ue) salutem. i nobis semper in fide veraces, in Armis strenuissimi, nostri milites & coadiutores robustissimi fuistis, damus vobis hanc totam plagam terrae quae extenditur ab Aquilone
vsq(ue) ad partem Italiae Meridionalis, ut nullus ausus sit isthic manere aut Se locare nisi vestrates,
& quicuncq(ue) alienus inuentus fuerit, illic manens sit Seruus vester, & eius posteri serui vestrorum posterorum. Datum ex Magna Alexandria nouae fundationis nostrae, fundata, super magno Nili
fluuio Aegipti, arridentibus nobis magnis Dijs, Ioue, Plutone, Marte, & maxima Dea Minerua, testis
autem huius rei Illustris Anstellus Tritoteca noster, & alij undecim Principes, quos nobis sine prole
decedentibus relinquimus nostros haeredes, & totus orbis successores. Anno Regnorum nostrorum II.
¹³ Secomska 1977, 139–140; Nawotka 2005, 23.
¹⁴ See Maciuszak 1999.
¹⁵ Nawotka 2004, 518–519; 2005, 22–23.
242
 
they had no idea who Nectanebo was, what was his role in Alexander’s life and
deeds. is is why they recognized “Nectanebo” as another title — Narctubon nunciatus. e same happened with allocutor Bragmundoram & Arabum. It is next
distortion. e proper wording should be allocutor Brahmanorum, interlocutor
of the brahmans. e clerks had not heard about Indian philosophers and their
contacts with the Macedonian,¹⁶ so they came to a conclusion, that Alexander
had a conversation with a certain Bragmundus. e king dealt with the Arabs (he
planned to conquer them¹⁷), but they had not been his partners in debates. e
clerks here, as Cyllenius and Sarnicki earlier, made an mistake. According to the
Romance Alexander had an opportunity to talk to the trees of Sun and Moon.¹⁸
Unaware of this clerks matched the original arborum with more familiar Arabum
— at least man, even king, cannot talk to trees. Paprocki was even more correct
— he excised this mention at all.
is mistaken lection led to another variations. Original and proper allocutor
arborum Solis and Lunae was contaminated into Solis et Lunae conculiator (Paprocki: conculcator). It is a distorted reading of next phrase: conculcator Persarum
et Medorum (Sarnicki has here Persorum ac Medorum domitor). What is obvious
it is that Lublin clerks were not auned to the Romance and even to any correct
version of the Privilegium.
e same conclusion can be reached when analysing closing formulas. e
place where document was drawn up is Alexandria, civitas novae fundationis super magno fluvio Aegipti Nili, and it took place during the 12ᵗʰ year of Alexander’s
rule, with help from gods¹⁹ (Lublin redaction has aspirantibus instead of more
common arridentibus, but the meaning is the same) — and all specimens are more
or less unanimous. Serious differences between extant versions are to be found
within the list of witnesses. e standard redaction I mentioned Antilous logotheta noster, and not named eleven principes and heirs. Lublin Lecutea is one of
damaged lections of Antilous logotheta (logotheta — Lecutea).
Lublin clerks used a Latin version of the Privilegium. All the mistakes made
by them resulted from lack of any knowledge about Alexander’s fantastic adventures described in the Romance, and distortions commied while copying the
document. But they tried to give this exotic (for them) text some logic. is is why
they amended it according to the information they had and grammar. In fact such
manouvers with the Privilegium were not seldom. Paprocki, Cyllenius and Sarnicki also deformed the wording. What can be deduced from differences within
Lublin redaction of the Privilegium is that its authors used a handwrien copy
¹⁶
¹⁷
¹⁸
¹⁹
Nawotka 2004, 422–425.
Nawotka 2004, 496–497.
Secomska 1977, 176–180.
Similar gods appear also in the Testament of Alexander — lib. de morte Alex., 123 omas.
     
243
based on or close to Paprocki’s version. Some blurred lessons can be explained
by mistaken reading of handwriting.
It is reasonable that the clerks were conscious what was the meaning of the
document they decided to exploit. e oldest extant copies of the Privilegium
come from 15ᵗʰ century Bohemia and were recorded in Czech. In this country
legends about Alexander had been in circulation from at least 13ᵗʰ century. Modern scholars usually stress the anti-Germanic message of these tales and close
relation to the international plans of the Přemyslid dynasty.²⁰ In the end of the
14ᵗʰ century appeared first known mentions about the Privilegium. According to
Albert Pražák in 1396 Petr Šmolka, abbot of famous Emauzy monastery in Prague,
introduced into record-books of the cloister text of the Privilegium.²¹ In the next
century there is possible that more Latin and Czech versions circulated.²² All were
connected with the hussite movement.²³ First printed Czech version published in
1541 Ladislav Hajek (†1553) in his chronicle.²⁴
e Privilegium had not been created by Bohemian intellectuals. e most
probable source used by them was located somewhere in Croatia. It is possible
that the Privilegium is an invention of the Balcan region. e Emauzy monastery
was founded by Charles IV in 1347 and he seled there monks from Croatia or
modern Slovenia. ey could bring the Privilegium with them.²⁵ ere are some
hints in extant evidence that suggest such lineup.
Polish authors of the second half of the 16ᵗʰ century were absolutely convinced
that the original privilege had been kept in Constantinople. It was a marvellous
document, wrien with golden ink, that survived the fall of the city and as booty
it found its way into sultans’ archives. ey were also aware of a fact that two
versions of this document existed: Czech and Croatian (or Bulgarian).²⁶
²⁰ See Pražák 194, passim; Hlavaček 2009.
²¹ Pražák 1945, 263; Ślęczka 2003, 68.
²² Niederle 1907, I, 381.
²³ Havránek, Hrabák, Daňhelka 1964, 141.
²⁴ Hájek 1819, cccxix; Pfister 1961, 328.
²⁵ Ślęczka 2003, 69.
²⁶ Stryjkowski 1846, 107: A iżby tu krotkości i teskliwemu Czytelnikowi folgując, i inszy, cesarzów Grei, Rzymski, także tysiąc dowodów o Sarmatskiej rycerskiej dzielności opuścił, tedy
to sama rzecz pokazuje, iż pewnie nie lenistwem, ani ospałą gnuśnością tak wielkiego a szerokiego panowania dostali, od morza Lodowatego daleko za Moskiewskimi krainami, i potym od morza
Baltiiego, które Prussy, Liflanty i Swecią oblewa, aż do morza Adriatiiego, Weneiego i aż do
Helespontu, i Pontum Euxinum, w którym okręgu dziś wszędzie naród Sarmatski Sławieński ossady swoje ma, według niktóry priwilejem Alexandra Wielkiego potwierdzone, s którym też i z ojcem jego Philippem przed narodzenim Christusa Pana roku 310, według Josepha Antiquit. Hebr. w
posiadaniu świata pracowali. I twierdzą to Czeowie za pewne, iż jeszcze za Alexandra Wielkiego
przodkowie i sławni byli, a dla przeważny dzielności od sławy Sławakami nazwani, jakoż i ten
priwilej Alexandrów w starodawnej kronice swojej słowańskim językiem pisanej ukazują. Karwaci zaś
i Bulgarowie twierdzą, iż sam własny priwilej na pargaminie Alexandrów Sławakom dany, a złotymi
literami w Alexandriej pissany, jest i dziś w skarbie Tureim, który Maomet cesarz wziął zaraz
z Constantinopolim.
244
 
ese two versions suit ways through the Poles learned about the Privilegium.
First of them, and the oldest, leads to early modern Bohemia. e hussits had close
connections with the Polish Jagiellonian court and bold plans on Polish-Czech-Lithuanian commonwealth. is political visions had historical — ideological underpinning — the Privilegium. Some scholars asserts, that the document had a
great impact on Polish ideology of the 15ᵗʰ century,²⁷ but it was more important
for the Czech²⁸ than the Poles.
It is reasonable to understand the Privilegium as an ideological weapon against
foreign expansion. is is the most important purpose of this apocrypha. Simultaneously it played a prestigious role. e document introduced the Slavs into the
world history and connected them with the most noble events from the antiquity.
It also had a slight theological context — Alexander imprisoned the people of Gog
and Magog in some barren and rocky land,²⁹ so his donation to the Slavs could be
seen as a positive counterpart of this step. Tracing origin into antiquity in Poland
gained the shape of sarmatism, in the Balcan area — illirism. e Slavs from Croatia, Serbia and Slovenia also used their version of the Privilegium (Illyrian).
As was mentioned above the Balcans are the most probable home of the document. Modern scholars usually connects Balcan Privilegium with anti-Tukish
resistance.³⁰ It is true especially for the later periods, but one cannot forget about
Venetian expansion in Croatia and Slovenia. e document had been composed
when reminiscences of Byzantine emperors’ writings had been still alive. Most
of our sources mentioned the Greek version of this Privilegium; remark about
λογοθέτης (logotheta) is also thought-provoking (so far no one tried to compare
the Privilegium with Byzantine imperial diplomas). At least in the second half of
the 14ᵗʰ century, brought by Croatian monks, the document found its way to Bohemia. It is just one probability. e Czech kings Přemysl Ookar II and Václav II
were very interested in Alexander’s history.³¹ e laer also had Slavic monks in
his court that could eased reception of Byzantine chancellery habits and Greek
text about the king’s hero.
In the 15ᵗʰ century the Privilegium had already been inculcated into Czech
tradition. Italian commentators of this fact never discussed its ideological or
propagandistic aims — they were indignant at a certain point: ancient origin
of the Czechs.³² Most probably the Italians had already been accustomed with
this document through their contacts with the Croatian and the Slovenians. All
manuscripts with handwrien copies of the Privilegium known to Pfister have
²⁷
²⁸
²⁹
³⁰
³¹
³²
See Dębicki 1991.
Vidmanová 1998; 2008.
Secomska 1977, 182–183.
Moroz-Grzelak 2004, 40–41.
Hlavaček 2009.
Pražák 1945, 265.
     
245
some Italian (or even north-Italian) links.³³ In a book published in 1584 Slovenian
Adam Bohorič wrote that his compatriot Sigmund von Herberstein (†1566) was
a discoverer of the document.³⁴ Herberstein was a Habsburg diplomat, explorer,
and historian, who boasted about founding Alexander’s altars. Pfister believed
Bohorič, but closer insight at the evidence undermines this claim.³⁵
In the end of the 15ᵗʰ century Slavic pretensions to be of ancient descend had
been widely known. e Privilegium played within justifications of this view a
minor role. Poles knew it from Bohemian sources. A Polish translation published
Maciej Bielski in his Kronika (printed in 1551, 1554, 1564);³⁶ in 1602 Latin version
based on Czech evidence Bartosz Paprocki.³⁷ In the same period (1559) a certain Greek active in Italy, Domenico Cilleni (Cyllenius) published an “Illyrian”
copy.³⁸ His redaction was reprinted with some changes by Stanisław Sarnicki in
1587.³⁹ e Privilegium was not unfamiliar to Marcin Kromer,⁴⁰ Stanisław Orzechowski,⁴¹ Stanisław Stryjkowski,⁴² Aleksander Gwagnin and others. Paprocki
and Orzechowski knew only about specimens from old Bohemian chronicles.⁴³
Stryjkowski⁴⁴ and Sarnicki⁴⁵ besides the ones known to last two writers had also information about Croatian and Bulgarian (“Illyrian”) redactions, kept in the
³³ Pfister 1961, 324–325.
³⁴ Bohorič 1584, [22]: diploma, seu si dicas immunitas, seu privilegium ab Alexandro illo magno
Macedonum rege profectum, qua Slavis, ob egregiam, in domando mundo pene uniuerso ipsi navatam
operam, potestas sit occupandi, & in Meridie & in septentrione potissimas Europae partes (…).
³⁵ See Ślęczka 2003, 66–69 and 71.
³⁶ Ulewicz 1950, 87 and 176–177.
³⁷ Paprocki 1602, 6: He precised that it was list Latinsky a Rzey psaney w tato slowa (…).
³⁸ Cyllenius 1559.
³⁹ Pfister 1961, 333.
⁴⁰ Ulewicz 1950, 87.
⁴¹ Orzechowski 1805, 7.
⁴² Stryjkowski 1846, 107.
⁴³ Orzechowski 1805, 6: Atqui non solum index lingua ortum nobis prodit nostrum, verum etiam
Alexandri Macedonis Priuilegium Annalibus Boemoru(m) vetistis posteritati traditum, quo sane Priuilegio aribuuntur, ab Alexandro fidei ac victoriae ergo maioribus nostris, omnes hae Regiones quas
nunc cum Bohemis partitis Prouinciis obtinemus.
⁴⁴ Stryjkowski 1846, 107: I twierdzą to Czeowie za pewne, iż jeszcze za Alexandra Wielkiego przodkowie i sławni byli, a dla przeważny dzielności od sławy Sławakami nazwani, jakoż i ten priwilej Alexandrów w starodawnej kronice swojej słowańskim językiem pisanej ukazują. Karwaci zaś
i Bulgarowie twierdzą, iż sam własny priwilej na pargaminie Alexandrów Sławakom dany, a złotymi
literami w Alexandriej pissany, jest i dziś w skarbie Tureim, który Maomet cesarz wziął zaraz
z Constantinopolim.
⁴⁵ Sarnicki 1587, 45: Ad illustrandas res Slauonicarum gentium proferuntur duo priuilegia Alexandri
Magni: alterum, quo Bulgari producent in suis antiquitatibus ac etiam Croatae, cuius exemplar aur
eis literis in pargameno Alexandri(ae) scriptum, inter esauros Turcorum hactenus pro magna gaza
asseruari constanter affirmant, dictcuntque illud eo tempore in manus Turcorum incidisse, cum Mahomet forum Imperator Constantinopolim expugnaret: huius exemplum(m) inferius a me subiicietur.
Aliud vero priuilegium, quo a me adductum iam est, ad Slauonicas nationes proprie pertinet. Ideo
a Boëmis, qui etiam a Slauonibus oriundi sunt, Slauonica lingua descriptum asseruatur. Extat eius
exemplar in quodam peruetusto libro Chronicoru(m) Bohemicorum.
246
 
sultan’s archives in Constantinopole. For Sarnicki southern specimen was less
reliable (huius exemplum inferius a me subiicietur). ere is also a hint about
a copy from a monastery near Cracow.⁴⁶ at means that the reception of the
Privilegium in Poland is more complex than it has been proposed in scientific
literature. e Lublin specimen is another proof of this. What is even more important — the research concentrated on 15ᵗʰ century, and treated the 17ᵗʰ century
rather marginally.
What is sure: the document had been copied; while rewriting mistakes were
made. Among the educated classes and political elites it gained same interests but
together with criticism. Not only Italians were sceptical — the Polish intellectuals
as well, for example Kromer or Jan Kochanowski.⁴⁷ is doubt was not connected with a criticism of sarmatism.⁴⁸ Ancient origin of Polish gentry did not need
Privilegium’s help. More important were Greek and Roman historians — reliable
sources. It must be also noticed that from the 12ᵗʰ century on Alexander and his
adventures became popular among educated classes of Rzeczpospolita, and even
among the middle gentry.⁴⁹ Alexander’s theme was also used to describe victorious kings (but as a king he was not a good model to be followed⁵⁰). is sheds
light on methods of using and evaluating of ancient sources.
It can be resumed that in Rzeczpospolita at the turn of the 16ᵗʰ and 17ᵗʰ centuries Alexander’s privilege was not regarded as a reliable document. In the moment Polish-Lithuanian commonwealth was not threatened by any external and
hostile migration that could deprived the gentry of their position. is fact tells
something about motifs which directed Lublin clerks’ deed.
ey knew that the Privilegium is a forgery. It seems that they thought that only a credulous and uncritical mind could claim Alexander the Great really donated
the Slavs any land. And this was the sens of their joke. e oblatum formula mentioned two men: Maximinus Ianussius Suchodolec and Stanisław Lubieniecki. Suchodolec (Suchodolski) and Lubieniecki are renown families of the Lublin region
in the 16ᵗʰ and 17ᵗʰ centuries. Both were connected with arianism. Stanisław Lubieniecki can be identified with an arian minister, publicist and writer Stanisław
Lubieniecki, who died in 1633⁵¹ — this date can serve as terminus ante quo of the
inscription. Lubieniecki family closely cooperated with the Suchodolski family.
Andrzej Lubieniecki, author of Polonoeutyia, a treatise on toleration in Rzecz-
⁴⁶
⁴⁷
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
⁵⁰
⁵¹
Pfister 1961, 334.
Ulewicz 1950, 87–88.
Łosowski 2006, 154.
Secomska 1977, 222–231; Gawłowska 1990; Ślęczka 2003.
Stasiak 2003, 49.
Tazbir 1972, 602–603; Sipayłło 1983, 327–328.
     
247
pospolita (or rather its lack)⁵² died in a village owned by Suchodolec family. In
Polonoeutyia he showed a great knowledge of ancient history.
If this identification is correct, the inscription was aimed to ridicule and show
arian stupidity or simple-mindedness. e arians were favourite subject of clerks’
jokes and puns introduced into the Lublin record-books.⁵³ To intensify a comic
effect of their inscription they gave it all necessary official formulas and seriousness — such recorded document, thanks to these official requirements, could be
even extracted.⁵⁴ Of course only by a not necessarily wise arian.
Alexander’s privilege is a good example of biased use of ancient history. e
Czechs, Croatians or Poles had been not exceptional here. According to another legendary tales, the great Macedonian donated England to his companion
Perceforest, and Scotland to his brother Gadiefer.⁵⁵ Reception of such stories is
a method of including of antiquity into contemporary cultures. It is a very interesting phenomenon worth deeper analysises — just like the Privilegium itself.
e Lublin copy indicates, that there were more areas where this apocrypha circulated. Privilegium Slavicum still needs a thorough-going study.
Bibliography:
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Bohorič A., 1584, Arcticae horulae succisive, de Latinocarniolana literatvra, ad Latinae lingvae analogiam accomodata, Vnde Moshoviticae, Rutenicae, Polonicae, Boëmicae & Lusaticae lingvae, cvm
Dalmatica et Croatica cognatio, facile deprehenditur, Witebergae.
Cyllenius D., 1559, De vetere & recentiore scientia militari, omnium bellorum genera (…) necnon
tormentorum rationes complectente, opus (…), Venetiis.
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lubelskiego w okresie XVI–XVII wieku, in H. Gmiterek, J. Łosowski (ed.), Urzędy państwowe,
⁵²
⁵³
⁵⁴
⁵⁵
Lubieniecki 1982.
Łosowski 2006, passim.
On a role played by extracts in contemporary legal culture see Madejska 2010.
Moroz-Grzelak 2004, 37.
248
 
organy samorządowe i kościelne oraz i kancelarie na polsko-ruskim pograniczu kulturowym
i etnicznym w okresie od XV do XIX wieku, Kraków, 575–597.
Moroz-Grzelak L., 2004, Aleksander Wielki a macedońska idea narodowa: słowiańskie losy postaci
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Nawotka K., 2004, Aleksander Wielki, Wrocław.
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Orzechowski, 1611, Annales Stanislai Oriovi Okszi adiunximus vitam Petri Kmitae, Dobromili.
Paprocki B., 1602, Diadoos id est successio: ginak poslaupnost knižat a králův ceský, biskupův
y arcybiskupův pražsky a wste tre Stanův Slawneho Kralowstwi Czeskeho (…), I, Praha.
Pfister F., 1961, Das Privilegium Slavicum Alexanders des Großen, Zeitsri ür Slavistik 6.3,
323–345.
Pražák A., 1945, Staročeska báseń o Alexandru Velikém, Praha.
Secomska K., 1977, Legenda Aleksandra Wielkiego w “Pantheonie” sandomierskim: miniatury
w kodeksie z 1335 roku, Wrocław etc.
Sipayłło M. (ed.), 1983, Akta synodów różnowierczy w Polsce, III: 1571–1632, Warszawa.
Stasiak A.M., 2003, Ideał monary w pisma Marcina Kromera, Olsztyn.
Stryjkowski M., 1846, Która przedtym nigdy światła nie widziała kronika polska, litewska, żmudzka
i wszystkiej Rusi (…), Warszawa.
Tazbir J., 1972, Lubieniecki Stanisław, in Polski Słownik Biograficzny 17, Wrocław etc., 602–603.
Ślęczka T., 2003, Aleksander Macedoński w literaturze staropolskiej, Wrocław.
Trojanowska M., 1981, Wpisy epickie w księgach grodzkich lubelskich XVII–XVIII wieku, Folia
Societatis Scientiarum Lublinensis 23 Hum. 1, 11–16.
Ulewicz T., 1950, Sarmacja: studium z problematyki słowiańskiej XV i XVI w., Kraków.
Vidmanová A., 1994, K privilegiu Alexandra Velikého Slovanům, in Husitství — reformace — renesance: sborník k 60. narozeninám Františka Šmahela, Praha, I, 105–115.
Vidmanová A., 2008, Ještě jednou k privilegiu Alexandra Velikého pro Slovany, in Z. Silagiová,
H. Šedinová, P. Kitzler (ed.), Pulritudo et sapientia: ad honorem Pavel Spunar, Praha, 179–187.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
FOUNDING OF ALEXANDRIA AS THE EXAMPLE
OF MULTICULTURAL POLITICS OF ALEXANDER
THE GREAT
M M
A
lexander the Great during his conquests presented not only military
genius or propaganda brilliance, but also widely disputed intercultural
awareness. Naturally, his expedition had its ups and downs in this field,
but there is ample evidence that his policy was in large extent well thought out.
Moreover, it gave the first set of effects, when his empire started to function quite
well, just aer his return from Gedrosia desert to Babilon before his death. e
aim of this paper is to show one of the examples of building multicultural society
in his empire, which is founding of Alexandria in Egypt. His stay in Egypt gave
exemplification of such a process and Alexandria was the final act focusing his
efforts to construct a stable society. It is exceptional as it gives ample examples
precisely illustrating his actions as the well organized process toward combining
different kind of cultures, believes or traditions into one empire which would be
acceptable for most of people living in it. In this paper Alexander’s stay in Egypt
is only a background for presenting the founding of Alexandria as the essential
aspect of his efforts to build a multicultural society, but all his actions in Egypt are
worth more detailed studies in the context of multiculturalism. is topic is especially intriguing today when one of the largest concerns is how to build societies
following waves of immigrations to Europe and the USA. Sadly, huge discussion
concerning this topic these days oen doesn’t seem to be using the knowledge
of ancient historians. Conclusions of their scholarly researches should not only be a subject of historical discussions but also the basis for analysis of people
constructing multicultural policies and security systems.
Triumphal entrance of Alexander the Great into Egypt, as a liberator from the
tyranny of Persians, was a great propaganda motive for the Macedonian king.
Egypt was always very special from many reasons, all of which were crucial in
this case. Firstly, from pragmatic perspective, Egypt was rich in food. Secondly,
there was a significant military aspect for his conquest — cuing the Persian fleet
off from the shores around the Mediterranean Sea. Another equally important as
the previous motive was propaganda. He was welcomed as a true rescuer from
249
250
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Persian tyranny. It appears it was not really important whether Persians were
really that mean or it was just a bad period in their domination in Egypt.¹ e
propaganda was successful and that was key issue for Alexander. Another reasons
for the king’s … was his continuous curiosity or, to be more accurate, πόθος,²
from Greek. It was πόθος which pushed him to also try a new approach to, the
so-called by the Greeks, barbarians.
Mutual influence from both the Greeks and the Egyptians was a long-lasting
process and their contacts were fruitful for each of them. Not only was the leader
of the Hellenic Union, as in the past, a partner of the Nile Kingdom but he also
became the ruler of Egypt.³ Simultaneously the Egyptians were liberated from the
suffering under the Persian kings. It can be assumed that Alexander had forseen
that his position as a king, a great king, the leader of Hellenistic Union or even
pharaoh would be possibly not enough to be provide authority for all the subjected lands in his empire. Probably as a consequence he decided to travel to Siwa
oasis to meet with the one of the most important prophets in the world at that
time. It presented him with a great opportunity to develop a universal position
suitable for all of his subordinates — it was the position of god. In order to receive
it he most probably manipulated the oracle to listen a prophecy suggesting that
he is the son of god.
Later on Alexander’s visit to Memphis and probably crowning himself as the
pharaoh, was the next stage of the process of building his new position as the
pharaoh in Egypt and also the god. In Memphis he sacrificed to the gods, especially
Apis, and held athletic and musical games.⁴ As the pharaoh he became the son of
god and he commemorated it by building a chamber inside the temple in Karnak
which constituted yet another smart decision to be added to his new political and
propaganda gestures.
Such acts showing him as the universal ruler of the different peoples of his empire were continued during the whole of his campaign. He built numerous cities
in every corner of his empire and those cities were not only the military outposts
prepared to guard his empire but the centres of the culture which was named
Hellenistic as well. It was a combination of religion, traditions, architecture of
various cultures which lived there together with the Greek culture.
¹ Curt. 4.7.29, Diod. Sic., 17.49.2; Bosworth 1989, 70; Hammond 2000, 105; Green 1978, 244, Fuller
1960, 78.
² Πόθος — in this case and according to meaning provided by a dictionary, it is a “longing or desire
to do something”. It can be assumed that contrary to Loeb’s translation it should be interpreted as
“desire” as it fits beer than “longing” to Alexander’s acting.
³ Bevan 1968, 4.
⁴ Arr., Anab., 3.1.4.
  
251
Building of Alexandria⁵ on the north west end of the Nile Delta was perhaps
the best example of Alexander’s ingenious understanding of the situation. e
short description of the city created by intus Rufus shows how clever this
project was: statuerat urbem novam condere (…) Conplexus quidquid soli est inter
paludem ac mare, octoginta stadiorum muris ambitum destinat.⁶ What is especially
interesting it is that he paid great aention to the founding of the city. Arrian in
his description uses the phrase: πόθος οὖν λαμβάνειαὐτὸν τοῦ ἔργου, (…).⁷ e
word πόθος suggest that this moment was of enormous significance. e city
must have been exceptional therefore. Subsequently, Alexander marked not only
the circumference of the city but according to Arrian he also marked various
main objects inside it. Apart from Greek gods temples he also marked a place for
the Egyptian temple dedicated to Isis,⁸ which was a gesture showing that the city
would not be a colony of Greeks or Macedonians⁹ as it used to in the past, but it
would be a truly multicultural place.
Such a conclusion can also be justified by other fragments from the source.
Alexander managed to populate the city with a great number of people: Ex
finitimis urbibus commigrare Alexandriam iussis, novam urbem magna multitudine inplevit.¹⁰ Possibly, the interpretation of the prophecy when the city was
marked out, could be an expression of his efforts: magnam illam urbem advenarum frequentiam culturam, multisque eam terris alimenta praebituram.¹¹ It can
be assumed that it was in fact a description of his strategic plan, not only a dream.
Together with the previous citation, it proves that in Alexander’s opinion a diverse population could be an impulse for a city’s growth. He seems to have believed that such a population could be very fruitful if well managed. Plutarchus
provides us with information about Alexander’s education about new countries.
In his youth, when receiving the envoys from foreign countries (e.g. from Persia),
⁵ e architects were probably Dinocrates: Vitruv., 2 Praefatio; Amm. Marc., 22.16.7; Val. Max.,
1.4.1. and Cleomenes: Iust., 13.4.1.
⁶ Curt., 4. 8: He founded new city (…) When he noticed how large the terrain between lake and sea
is, he marked walls eighty stadies long (transl. author).
⁷ Arr., Anab., 3.1.5: A longing for the work therefore sized him (transl. P.A. Brunt).
⁸ Arr., Anab., 3.1.5: θεῶν ὧντινων, τῶν μὲν Ἑλληνικῶν,Ἴσιδος δὲ Αἰγυπτίας, καὶ τὸ τεῖχος ᾗ
περιβεβλῆσθαι. [(…) the gods, some Greek, and Isis the Egyptian, for whom they were to be erected
(transl. P.A. Brunt)].
⁹ In fact Pompey Trogus in the book rescripted by Marcus Junianus Justinus states that Alexandria
was coloniam Macedonum, but this book is only epitoma and the original was lost. Both — the
original author and the author of the epitoma are Romans, the first one with the roots in celtic tribes
and the later announced that he only repeated certain parts of the work, which were interesting
from his point of view. In such a case, the word coloniam might only be a suggestion of one of them
and distinction such as between colony and new multicultural city might not be significant in fact
and refer to the same idea.
¹⁰ Curt., 4.8.5: From the neighbourhood of the city, he ordered to move inside the city, and this new
city he inhabited in multitude of citizens (transl. author).
¹¹ Curt., 4.8.6: Many people of different cultures will come to this city and they will export the food
(the fruits of the earth) for many countries (transl. author).
252
 
aer the official maers, he used to ask them about the roads, journeys inside
their country and many others.¹² When he finally launched his expedition a few
years later, owing to all the information gathered back then, he could construct a
plan of his empire. Using the same source, it can also be assumed that Alexander
treated foreigners differently than Aristotle had taught him.¹³ Aer four years
of his campaign Aristotle sent a leer in which he offered advice to Alexander
which is strikingly different from with what we can read in his work Politics. He
advises Alexander to treat his subjects kindly and with respect. He even added
that it would be proper to imitate some behaviours of the foreigners.¹⁴ is leer,
discovered in the 19ᵗʰ century but well examined by Marian Plezia in the 1950’s,
who confirmed it’s authentic, makes easier to understand Alexander’s politics in
Egypt.
e change of the tone in the Aristotle’s works and leers proves that this
expedition was indeed a great success. Founding of Alexandria described in the
sources presented the new idea of Alexander’s politics. From later city lot, it
seems that Alexander’s idea succeeded there. e role of Alexander was not only
founding of Alexandria and reorganizing the country in 332 BC. He also paid
great aention to the maers of Egypt during his conquests., especially when
he came back to Babilon he devoted a lot of effort to organizing the maers of
Egypt.¹⁵ e task of development of the city of Alexandria the Macedonian king
entrusted to Cleomenes.¹⁶
As Abbadi wrote “both under the Ptolemies and the Romans the citizenship of
the Alexandrians was and remained throughout of one status which comprised
the entire citizen body of the city”.¹⁷ is statement is contrary to the previous
statements by other historians who stated that there were superior and subordinated classes in Alexandria. Abbadi gave many arguments to believe that the
society of the city was organized in the manner Alexander had designed.¹⁸ e
development of civilisation and culture was so advanced that even such a difficult
aspect as multicultural society in one city was probably possible owing to the way
it was founded (ideas shown beside it) and also thanks to the first rulers — early
Ptolemies. But the growth of the city was tremendous as it overshadowed even
Rome itself: “Alexandria is what Rome should but never would become: one of
¹² Plut., Alex., 5.1.
¹³ Arist., Pol., 1.1252b: (…) Greeks should rule barbarians, implying that barbarian and slave are the
same in nature (trans. H. Rackham). Also Strabo writes about those advices of Aristotle: Strab.,
1.4.9.
¹⁴ Bielawski and Plezia 1970.
¹⁵ Arr., Anab., 7.23.6–8.
¹⁶ Iust., 13.4; Fraser 1972: 6.
¹⁷ El-Abbadi 1962, 122.
¹⁸ El-Abbadi 1962, 106–123.
  
253
the major intellectual centres of the imperium”.¹⁹ Alexandria became the centre of
the ancient science. e astronomer who reorganized the calendar under Caesar
was from Alexandrians well as the scholar who designed horologium for Octavian
August. Alexandrian Bibliotheca was the largest and the most glorious one and
its Museion was the centre of science. Moreover, one of the seven wonders of
the ancient world was located there. Stunning objects such as Caesareum, most
probably built by Caesar or on his and Cleopatra order, and Sebasteion built on
the order of Augusts are among other examples. ere was no coincidence that
all this focused in Alexandria. Alexander seem to have foreseen it’s great political and intellectual meaning judging from the Egypt importance. Not only was
Alexandria the centre of Hellenistic intellectual life but whole Egypt was also
legendary and, even in Alexander’s times, considered ancient. It was well guarded owing to natural obstacles such as river and large desserts. Moreover, due to
the Nile’s overflows it was well known for large food resources, not to mention
its treasures: the pyramids, temples and palaces of the pharaohs. However, it is
significant to established what determined that the city and the whole Egypt aer
Alexander’s campaign became “the most durable of all the Macedonian kingdoms
— one destined to last three centuries and be succeeded by European domination
for some six centuries more”.²⁰ We can, to some extent, conclude that multicultural character of Alexandria²¹ and its influence on the rest of the country resulted
in a higher level of social order. e country was functioning in an unique way
which was more significant foundation of its security than just the barrier created
by the Nile.
Alexandria as a city with a mixture of people from every side of the Mediterranean Sea and with a mixture of architectural and religious trends was a perfect
meeting point for Romans, Greeks, Egyptians, Jews and others.
Alexandria in the 19ᵗʰ century regained such a cosmopolitan role, however
not to such an extent as during the Hellenistic times. Still, history repeated itself
once again and in 2008 French president Nicholas Sarkozy announced creation of
the Union for the Mediterranean in which 27 European Union countries and all
countries from north Africa with the exception of Libya and the western part of
the Middle East take part. If we take into consideration the bloodless revolution in
2011 in Egypt this country might become of exceptional importance once again.
If that’s the case, Alexandria should return to its multicultural role. It would be
a great opportunity to meet once again with the countries which suffered under colonial status and benefits could be mutual. As a consequence, Alexander’s
legacy would live on aer 2342 years aer his campaign in Egypt.
¹⁹ Takács 1995, 264.
²⁰ Hogarth 1915, 53.
²¹ Bingen, 2007, 240–255.
254
 
Bibliography:
Bevan E.R., 1968, e House of Ptolemy: A History of Egypt under the Ptolemaic Dynasty, Chicago.
Bielawski J., Plezia M. (eds), 1970, Lere d’Aristote à Alexandre sur la politique envers les cités, texte
arabe établi et traduit par J. Bielawski, commentaire de M. Plezia, Wroclaw.
Bingen J., 2007, Hellenistic Egypt, Monary, Society, Economy, Culture, Los Angeles.
Bosworth A.B., 1989, Conquest and Empire. e Reign of Alexander the Great, Cambridge.
El-Abbadi M.A.H., 1962, Alexandrian Citizenship, e Journal of Egyptian Araeology 48, 106–123.
Fraser P.M., 1972, Ptolemaic Alexandria, Oxford.
Fuller J.F.C., 1960, e Generalship of Alexander the Great, New Jersey.
Green P., 1978, Aleksander Wielki, tłum. A. Konarek, Warszawa.
Hammond N., 2000, Geniusz Aleksandra Wielkiego, tłum. J. Lang, Poznań.
Hogarth D.G., 1915, Alexander in Egypt and Some Consequences, e Journal of Egyptian Araeology 2.2, 53–60.
Takács S.A., 1995, Alexandria in Rome, Harvard Studies in Classical Philology 97, 263–276.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
FRIENDSHIP IN THE WORKS OF PLUTARCH*
M M
Both had many claims upon the world’s esteem, but wise men
consider none of these so great as the unquestioned good will
and friendship which subsisted between them from first to last
through all their struggles and campaigns and civil services.
Πολλῶν δὲ καὶ καλῶν ὑπαρχόντων ἀμφοτέροις πρὸς δόξαν,
οὐδὲν οἱ νοῦν ἔχοντες ἡγοῦνται τηλικοῦτον, ἡλίκον τὴν διὰ τοσούτων ἀγώνων καὶ στρατηγιῶν καὶ πολιτειῶν ἀνεξέλεγκτον
εὔνοιαν καὶ φιλίαν, ἀπ’ ἀρχῆς μέχρι τέλους συμμείνασαν.
Plut., Pel., 4.1.
P
lutarch of Chaeronea was a man particularly interested in human relations. Following his predecessors, he distinguished four types of positive
relationships: kinship, hospitality, friendship, and love.¹ He himself displayed a great emotional aitude toward these relationships,² even too emotional,
if his words are to be believed.³
Friendship, defined shortly as φιλία, is one of the common motifs in Plutarch’s
writings. He wrote two distinct works on it: On having many friends (Περὶ
πολυφικίας), and How to tell a flaerer from a friend. Unfortunately, only fragments of his leer about friendship have been preserved to the present day. e
motif of friendship also appears in other works by the Moralist of Chaeronea.
Plutarch analyzes two aspects of friendship. Firstly, he deals with the ideal,
exemplary model of true friendship (ἀληθινὴ φιλία), and compiles a number of
views on the issue.⁴ He calls friendship a work of God that brings happiness, bliss,
and kindness into human’s life.⁵ Not only does it keep one safe from troubles
* In my article I use a translation of Lives by B. Perrin and Moralia by F.C. Babbit.
¹ Plut., Mor., 758c: τέσσαρα γένη τῆς φιλίας ἐχούσης, ὥσπερ οἱ παλαιοὶ διώρισαν, τὸ φυσικὸν
πρῶτον εἶτα τὸ ξενικὸν ἐπὶ τούτῳ καὶ τρίτον τὸ ἑταιρικὸν καὶ τελευταῖον τὸ ἐρωτικόν.
² Plut., Mor., 463c: τὸ δ’ ἐμὸν ἦθος οἶσθα δήπουθεν ἡλίκαις ροπαῖς φέρεται πρὸς εὔνοιαν ἀνθρώπων καὶ πίστιν. ὥσπερ οὖν οἱ κατὰ κενοῦ βαίνοντες, ὅσῳ μᾶλλον ἐπερείδω τῷ φιλεῖν ἐμαυτόν,
ἁμαρτάνω μᾶλλον καὶ σφαλλόμενος ἀνιῶμαι· καὶ τοῦ μὲν φιλεῖν ἀπαρύσαι τὸ ἐμπαθὲς ἄγαν καὶ
πρόθυμον οὐκ ἂν ἔτι δυνηθείην.
³ Plut., Mor., 463c. Konstan 1997, 176.
⁴ O’Neil 1997, 110–111.
⁵ Plut., Mor., 50a.
255
256
 
and distress, but is also accompanied by pleasure, profit, benevolence, grace and
virtue.⁶ It cannot exist without beautiful virtue, pleasant intimacy and necessary
benefit.⁷ Friendship begins with a similarity of lifestyles and habits.⁸ It can only
be tied provided a feeling unity,⁹ and lack of jealousy.¹⁰ Plutarch describes this as
one soul hosted by many bodies.¹¹
A friend is more important than fire or water.¹²
e uniformity and permanence of his tastes, whether he always takes delight in
the same things, and commends always the same things, and whether he directs and
ordains his own life according to one paern, as becomes a free-born man and a lover
of congenial friendship and intimacy: for such is the conduct of a friend.¹³
He tries to mimic and praise the things best in us,¹⁴ ready …to share also in the
right conduct and in love for the good, not in terror and evil-doing.¹⁵
A true friend gives one the chance to self-develop.¹⁶ He is there to help one
seek and find the truth.¹⁷ True friendship cannot exist without frankness.¹⁸ It gives
us the ability to recognize our flaws and purge ourselves from them.¹⁹ A friend
can, through grace and praise, lead and sensitize one to the beauty of things.²⁰
He helps the beer part of the soul, the truthful, the wise, and the righteous, like
a counsellor or lawyer, and strengthens and protects it like a doctor protecting
his patient‘s health.²¹ A friend does not act carelessly or without consent.²² He
will not be serving others “in many also that are dishonest”, “expect his friends
to support him in an honest project”. Plutarch’s ideas directly contradict those of
Gorgias.²³ On the other hand, he makes references to examples given by Phocion
and Lacedeamonians.
⁶ Plut., Mor., 51b; 93f and 49f.
⁷ Plut., Mor., 94b.
⁸ Plut., Mor., 51b and 96d.
⁹ Plut., Mor., 95a.
¹⁰ Plut., Mor., 54c and 92b.
¹¹ Plut., Mor., 96f.
¹² Plut., Mor., 51b.
¹³ Plut., Mor., 52a.
¹⁴ Plut., Mor., 53c.
¹⁵ Plut., Mor., 53c.
¹⁶ Plutarch repeatedly cites the sentence that only a true friend or a virulent enemy can show
human weakness (he refers to Diogenes the Cynic — Plut., Mor., 74c, 82a–b or Antisthenes — Plut.,
Mor., 89b–c).
¹⁷ Plut., Mor., 53b.
¹⁸ Plut., Mor., 51c–d; 59a–b and 74d.
¹⁹ Plut., Mor., 59d.
²⁰ Plut., Mor., 55b.
²¹ Plut., Mor., 61d–e.
²² Plut., Mor., 62f.
²³ Plut., Mor., 64c.
     
257
For a friend is not unpleasant or absolute, nor is it bierness and sternness that give
dignity to friendship, but this very nobility and dignity in it is sweet and desirable.²⁴
Plutarch himself admits that it is very difficult for conditions for such a relationship to be meet.²⁵ True friendship requires full engagement from both parties.
Friendship seeks for a fixed and steadfast character which does not shi about, but
continues in one place and in one intimacy. For this reason a steadfast friend is something rare and hard to find.²⁶
In order to call somebody a friend one should spend a lot of time together.²⁷
Eat the proverbial bushel of salt.²⁸ Hardly anybody has the courage to be honest with their friends, and only few can do that properly.²⁹ ereby, according to
Plutarch’s essay On having many friends, it is impossible for a person to have a lot
of true friends. He also provides readers with examples of fake and selfish friendships.³⁰ In How to tell a flaerer from a friend he writes that men of importance
are especially in danger of such kind of relationship.³¹ According to Plutarch,
a person can have only one true friend.³² He names as few as only five pairs
of friends: the mythical eseus and Peirithous, Achilles and Patroclus, Orestes
and Pylades, Phintias and Damon, and Epameinondas and Pelopidas, the last two
pairs of which lived in the 4ᵗʰ century BC.³³
Plutarch’s works deal not only with the ideal, exemplary model of friendship,
but also with the concept of an ordinary, everyday friendship.
Friends — here used in the plural form, contrary to theoretical deliberations,
are considered an element essential in a human’s natural environment. A person’s
closest environment is composed of: relatives and friends (οἰκεῖοι καὶ φίλοι),³⁴
²⁴ Plut., Mor., 49e–f.
²⁵ Plut., Mor., 93f.
²⁶ Plut., Mor., 97b.
²⁷ Plut., Mor., 94f–95a and 659e–660a.
²⁸ Plut., Mor., 94a.
²⁹ Plut., Mor., 66a.
³⁰ Plut., Mor., 94a–b.
³¹ Plut., Mor., 49c. Cf. On affection for offspring 4, Mor., 497c–d.
³² Plut., Mor., 94a.
³³ As Stählin (1974, 153) points out none of these pairs meet conditions of the ideal friendship —
equal partnership.
³⁴ Plut., Mor., 91b: … a man is farthest removed from envying the good fortune of his friends or the
success of his relatives; 143a: … in the case of married people there ought to be a mutual amalgamation
of their bodies, property, friends, and relations; 250a: She told her friends and family …; 255c: Lampsace, a young girl, learned of a plot beforehand, and tried first to dissuade her friends and relatives;
257e: She … spent the rest of her life quietly at the loom in the company of her friends and family;
258b: for her relatives and friends also brought pressure; 278e: And this action was held to be noble
on the part of men who taught their friends and relatives; 329b: to have regard for the Greeks as for
258
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household members and friends (οἰκέται καὶ φίλοι),³⁵ as well as friends and intimates (φίλοι καὶ συνήθεις).³⁶
e angry man ‘treats’ harshly wife and slaves and friends.³⁷
ere is nothing more conductive to gentleness than graciousness and simplicity toward servants and wife and friends.³⁸
A man of sense should … use for some things his wife, for other servants, for other
friends.³⁹
Plutarch commends his friend’s deceased son in the following way:… a youth who
was … unusually observant of the demands of religion and justice both toward the
gods and toward his parents and friends.⁴⁰ He continues:
He was fond of his father and mother and his relatives and friends, or, to put it in a
word he loved his fellow men; he respected the elderly among his friends as fathers,
he was affectionate towards his companions and familiar friends, he honoured his
teachers, and was most kind towards strangers and citizens, gentle with all.⁴¹
friends and kindred; 465d: betrayal of friends and family and country; 468b: … most people are pained
and exasperated by the faults, not only of their friends and relatives, but also of their enemies; 765b;
519e: … we should prefer … to entrust our leers and papers and seals to slaves and strangers rather
than to inquisitive friends and relatives; 532a–b: so-called philosophers who are Epicureans or Stoics
not from oice or judgement, but because they acceded to importunate relations or friends; 548f–549a:
Or what consolation did Oromenian people have, when due to Lykiskos treason they lost ildren,
friends, and relatives; 583d: … a fiing burial is favour requited to friend by friends and fellows; 778f:
… they ask blessings from the gods, not for themselves, their friends, and their families alone, but for
all the citizens in common; 825b: Crates … slew some of their friends and relatives).
³⁵ Plut., Mor., 128a: … ildish person who was afraid to let his friends and servants discover that he
is in a state of discomfort from excessive eating or drinking …; 460e: But su a notion must not on
any account be entertained towards servants or friends; 461a: … we not only treat harshly wife and
slaves and friends …; 462a: … a master eerful and gentle towards his slave also; and if to slaves,
he will evidently be so to his friends …; 464a–b: For to … drag into light every lile concern of the
slave, every action of a friend, every pastime of a son, every whisper of a wife …; 517f: … seditions of
women, assaults of slaves, slanders of friends …; 598e; 772f: … he got together a crowd of friends and
servants ….
³⁶ Plut., Mor., 87c: … your enemy, through every friends and servant and acquaintance … plays the
detective on your actions …; 90b: us it is that things whi are perceptible, material, and evident
to all the world, may sooner be learned from our enemies than from our friends and close associated;
91e: … we shall never deal dishonesty and knavishly with our intimate associates and friends; 462e:
… we … under the impulse of rage cast off ildren, friends, and companions …; 479a: … and friends
and intimates, like an harmonious oir, neither do not say, nor think, anything discordant; 566e:
espesius kept meeting friends, kinsmen and camarades; 634a; 653e; 708c: But to invite a man who
has many friends and members of the family and intimates …; 778e: … the friends and intimate of
the tyrant Apollodorus, of Phalaris, and of Dionysius …; 941f; 1059a.
³⁷ Plut., Mor., 460f.
³⁸ Plut., Mor., 461a.
³⁹ Plut., Mor., 464a–b.
⁴⁰ Plut., Mor., 101f–102a.
⁴¹ Plut., Mor., 120a.
     
259
Right aer gods and parents, it is friends whom one should respect most, and
who are, as it has been shown, an age group of great diversity. Positive aitude
towards friends can also be found in other catalogues of virtue. Protagenes is commended as a faithful friend.⁴² Alexander the Great, as a person respectful⁴³ and
faithful⁴⁴ towards friends. As far as flaws are concerned, Plutarch ranks lack of
friendship as the most infamous blemish.⁴⁵
According to Plutarch, Anacharsis was of the opinion that if children, wife,
and servants are possessed of sense and discretion they will create a goodly and
happy home.⁴⁶
Friends in the works of Plutarch appear as interlocutors of kings, commanders,
politicians, and various heroes portrayed in various compositions. ey listen,
talk, ask, give advice, encourage, convince, rebuke, outrage, reproach, accuse, foment, and incite. ereby the author is able to characterize the portrayed figure
because of the topos that occurs.
According to Plutarch of Chaeronea’s philosophy, gods are both the first and
the best friends a man has.⁴⁷ Whereas filial love and brotherly bonds are presented
as the ideal model of friendship.⁴⁸ Plutarch rebuts the statement that women are
by nature incapable of making friends.⁴⁹ First and foremost, he considers friendship an essential element of a good marriage.⁵⁰ People close to each other (brothers) should share the same friends.⁵¹ e same applies to the husband and wife.
Aer wedding not only bodies, fortune, and household but also friends should be
united (like liquids become one).⁵² However, Boeotian writer considers woman’s
position a minor one: a wife ought not to make friends of her own, but to enjoy her
husband’s friends in common with him.⁵³ e only instance one can see women’s
friends mentioned is in narratives directed for women.⁵⁴
Plutarch two times mentions the advice Polybius gave to Scipio Africanus to
follow: one should never leave the Agora (here: a forum), before making friends
⁴² Plut., Mor., 563d–e.
⁴³ Plut., Mor., 337b.
⁴⁴ Plut., Mor., 342f.
⁴⁵ Plut., Mor., 1100c.
⁴⁶ Plut., Mor., 155c.
⁴⁷ Plut., Mor., 140d.
⁴⁸ Plut., Mor., 479c–d.
⁴⁹ Plut., Mor., 769c.
⁵⁰ Plut., Mor., 751c–d.
⁵¹ Plut., Mor., 490e.
⁵² Plut., Mor., 142b–c.
⁵³ Plut., Mor., 140d. About women in works of Plutarch: Konstan 1997, 71; Blomqvist 1997, 73–97;
Pomeroy 1999; Rist 2001, 557–575.
⁵⁴ Plut., Mor., 255c: Lampsace, a young girl, learned of a plot beforehand, and tried first to dissuade
her friends and relatives; 257e: She … spent the rest of her life quietly at the loom in the company of
her friends and family; 258b: for her relatives and friends also brought pressure; 754e: She summoned
those male friends … .
260
 
with some of the people met there.⁵⁵ Nevertheless, he considers public space as
a place which does not create favourable conditions for new friendships. e
pursuit of new friends triggers superficial and unstable relations that are quickly
supplanted by the next acquaintanceships.⁵⁶ A friend is a person met in an inn,
palestra, Agora. Somebody, with whom one drank wine, played ball, threw dice,
and shared a roof.⁵⁷ “Best friends” are probably those whose names are wrien
on walls — Plutarch calls such inscriptions nonsense.⁵⁸
e story about bound of friendship tied over a meal commonly appears in
Plutarch’s works. In some way it derives from their convention. In the dialog
Dinner of the seven wise men ales of Miletus advises that the guest should, while
siing at the table, try to make friends with people around him.⁵⁹ Solon’s friend,
Mnesiphilus from Athens, claims that Dionysus soens and relaxes their aracters
with wine, as in a fire, and so provides some means for beginning a union and friendship with one another.⁶⁰ Another participant of the meeting calls a table: an altar
of the gods of friendship and hospitality.⁶¹ In the dedication for the fourth volume
of “Table-Talk” Plutarch himself mentions symposium as a great opportunity to
strike up or strengthen a friendship.⁶² Friends meeting for wine and discussions,⁶³
a common narrative motif, was very close to Plutarch’s heart. Furthermore, the
fundamental purpose of a speech is to make friends:⁶⁴ e works and gis of the
Muses are more conductive to friendship than those of Aphrodite.⁶⁵
Friendship is born during shared ephebes and military expeditions.⁶⁶ ereby,
with time, it is common for a person who deals with public affairs to get more
and more friends.⁶⁷
Plutarch presents expectation of his contemporaries toward their friends. A
true friend should be a benefactor⁶⁸ who endows,⁶⁹ especially in need.⁷⁰ A friend
⁵⁵ Plut., Mor., 199f and 660b.
⁵⁶ Plut., Mor., 93d.
⁵⁷ Plut., Mor., 94a.
⁵⁸ Plut., Mor., 520d–e.
⁵⁹ Plut., Mor., 149a–b.
⁶⁰ Plut., Mor., 156d.
⁶¹ Plut., Mor., 158c.
⁶² Plut., Mor., 660a–c.
⁶³ See, e.g., Plut., Mor., 653d–e, 1098e, 1099b–c.
⁶⁴ Plut., Mor., 777c.
⁶⁵ Plut., Mor., 777d.
⁶⁶ Plut., Mor., 816b.
⁶⁷ Plut., Mor., 787d–e.
⁶⁸ Plut., Mor., 218a and 90f: It is not so honourable to do a good turn to a friend as it is disgraceful
not to do it when he is in need.
⁶⁹ Plut., Mor., 80f, 526e, 582e–f, 584d.
⁷⁰ Plut., Mor., 524c–e.
     
261
is obliged everywhere and everytime⁷¹ to help or visit his sick friend,⁷² give advice on both public and private maers⁷³ e.g. to advise somebody suffering from
overeating or overdrinking against eating and bathing.⁷⁴ He should accompany
one on foreign or military expeditions,⁷⁵ in the court,⁷⁶ on a wedding ceremony,
and at the cemetery when one bury the dead. Likewise, true friends should also be
members of judicial tribunal together, consol their suffering friend,⁷⁷ help buyer
and purchaser, and mitigate brotherly conflicts division of estate.⁷⁸ A loyal friend
helps solving private and public maers, and serving office. He does not forget to
host parties and pay visits to friends.⁷⁹ He also helps overcoming problems and
needs to withstand aversion or abhorrence from their friends’ enemies.⁸⁰ If he is
not able to provide consistent, considerable help, he will try to show his feelings
by doing various small favours.⁸¹
e moralist of Chaeronea demands more than this. He expects a mutual
benevolence from his friends.⁸² A friend should be reserved and discreet.⁸³ What
is more, he should be a person, who can gently and appropriately reprimand and
praise (never in public),⁸⁴ as well as refuse on both trivial⁸⁵ and serious issues e.g.
when being asked to make a false statements.⁸⁶ He should also accept reprimands
from a friend.⁸⁷
Plutarch also analyses the dark side of friendship. us, next to a kind commendation he also mentions flaery.⁸⁸ ere are impolite and self-interested⁸⁹
friends who wait for the inheritance or appropriation of property⁹⁰ (Plutarch considers stealing from a friend the same as grave robbery, embezzlement or stealing
from an altar — which are sacrilegious acts⁹¹). ere are situations when someone
⁷¹
⁷²
⁷³
⁷⁴
⁷⁵
⁷⁶
⁷⁷
⁷⁸
⁷⁹
⁸⁰
⁸¹
⁸²
⁸³
⁸⁴
⁸⁵
⁸⁶
⁸⁷
⁸⁸
⁸⁹
⁹⁰
⁹¹
Plut., Mor., 955e–f.
Plut., Mor., 95d, 129d, 584a.
Plut., Mor., 95c.
Plut., Mor., 62a.
Plut., Mor., 491c–d.
Plut., Mor., 63a, 95c,d.
Plut., Mor., 102a–b, 599a–b.
Plut., Mor., 483d.
Plut., Mor., 95c.
Plut., Mor., 96a–b.
Plut., Mor., 787b.
Plut., Mor., 65a–c.
Plut., Mor., 62d–e, 63c–d, 80f–81a, 506e–507a.
Plut., Mor., 531b.
Plut., Mor., 521e–f, 73b–c.
Plut., Mor., 531c, 534a.
Plut., Mor., 73a, 90d.
Plut., Mor., 50f.
Plut., Mor., 525e.
Plut., Mor., 556d.
Plut., Mor., 819e–f.
262
 
considered to be a friend argues with us and levels a number of charges against
us. Sometimes due to a long separation⁹² it is hard to recognize a close person.⁹³
Sometimes the message of a neglected friend’s sickness or death arrives too late.⁹⁴
Plutarch mentions indiscretion,⁹⁵ detrimental garrulousness,⁹⁶ mistrustfulness,⁹⁷
tracking, bringing all one’s friend’s misdemeanors to light,⁹⁸ reading his leers,⁹⁹
slanders,¹⁰⁰ quarrel,¹⁰¹ anger,¹⁰² envy, or causing harm. He also mentions a deceitful, cunning, treacherous action,¹⁰³ and numerous friends who are worthless
because of their envy and selfishness.¹⁰⁴
Aside from the family environment φίλοι in the plural form, the works of
the Moralist of Chaeronea also treat about political activity. Plutarch condemns
emistocles, who put the government under pledge to his friendship, subordinating the affairs of the community and the public to private favours and interests.¹⁰⁵ He refers back to Aristides’ opinion that friends’ support encourages one
to wrong action.¹⁰⁶ However, according to Plutarch, the states do not need men
who have no friends or comrades, but good and self-controlled men.¹⁰⁷ For friends
are the living and thinking tools of the statesman.¹⁰⁸ He points out, that when
selecting associates, one should choose them among friends, looking carefully
at their predispositions, and benefit from their abilities, especially those which
one does not possess himself.¹⁰⁹ He provides an example of an important meeting
during which friends discuss a serious maer. According to Plutarch, although
all friends’ opinions should be unanimous, for the sake of creating a semblance
of debate, they should raise objections to the new proposal, and then, supposedly
convinced, withdraw their objections.¹¹⁰ Likewise, for the sake of his motherland,
he advises friendship with the representatives of Roman authority.¹¹¹
⁹²
⁹³
⁹⁴
⁹⁵
⁹⁶
⁹⁷
⁹⁸
⁹⁹
¹⁰⁰
¹⁰¹
¹⁰²
¹⁰³
¹⁰⁴
¹⁰⁵
¹⁰⁶
¹⁰⁷
¹⁰⁸
¹⁰⁹
¹¹⁰
¹¹¹
Plut., Mor., 453a.
Plut., Mor., 559b.
Plut., Mor., 87b–c.
Plut., Mor., 506e–507a.
Plut., Mor., 510d.
Plut., Mor., 517c.
Plut., Mor., 464a.
Plut., Mor., 522e.
Plut., Mor., 517f.
Plut., Mor., 823b–e.
Plut., Mor., 562a.
Plut., Mor., 91b–e.
Plut., Mor., 491a.
Plut., Mor., 807b; cf. Arist., 1.4.
Plut., Mor., 186a; Arist. 2.6.
Plut., Mor., 807a (Cleon’s conduct criticism).
Plut., Mor., 807d.
Plut., Mor., 819b–c.
Plut., Mor., 813b.
Plut., Mor., 814c–e.
     
263
He considers it natural and proper to let one’s friends hold an office or pride
of place as well as supporting them if they make small mistakes.¹¹²
What is more, Plutarch brings up the story of Agesilaos, where he shows that
protecting friends from justice and public interest might lead to serious consequences.¹¹³ A politician should be able to refuse a friend requests if they are improper.¹¹⁴
Plutarch, however, considers it appropriate to use one’s social position to enrich a friend. He refers to the example of emistocles and Agesilaos, whose behaviour toward intimates he does not always approve, and Epaminondas, who
in this kind of a situation almost forces a eban, described as ri since he has
appropriated mu of the State’s wealth,¹¹⁵ to give one talent.
Plutarch, employing examples from the past, praises politicians who refused
to take friendship gis from foreign kings that were using them as bribes. Next
to Epaminondas,¹¹⁶ the Spartanian king Agesilaos,¹¹⁷ and Callicratidas,¹¹⁸ all of
whom sent back Persian gold, he mentions Phocion, an Athenian statesman, who
not only refused to take one hundred talents from Alexander the Great¹¹⁹ and did
not accept money from Macedonian army leader Menyllos, but also became an
incoruptible friend of Antipater.¹²⁰
First of all Plutarch emphasizes the necessity of friendship between people
who are socially engaged. He condemns situation of childhood friends who, aer
succeeding to an office, become enemies because of envy and hurt ambitions.
A man ought to conciliate his superior, add prestige to his inferior, honour his equal,
and be affable and friendly to all.¹²¹
He considers the friendship between Epaminondas and Pelopidas, two distinguished Boeotian politicians and generals, the most admirable one. Having compared them with estranged Athenian leaders (emistocles and Aristides, Cimon
and Pericles, Nicias and Alcibiades) he states:
these men colleagues in government and command rather than those, who ever strove
to get the beer of one another rather than of the enemy.¹²²
¹¹² Plut., Mor., 808b.
¹¹³ Plut., Mor., 807e–f, 191b, 209e–f.
¹¹⁴ Plut., Mor., 808d–e.
¹¹⁵ Plut., Mor., 809a.
¹¹⁶ Plut., Mor., 193c.
¹¹⁷ Plut., Mor., 213d–e.
¹¹⁸ Plut., Mor., 222e.
¹¹⁹ Plut., Mor., 188c; Phoc., 18.1–2.
¹²⁰ Plut., Mor., 188f; Phoc., 30.1–4.
¹²¹ Plut., Mor., 816a.
¹²² Plut., Pel., 4.3: τούτους ἂν ὀρθῶς καὶ δικαίως προσαγορεύσειε συνάρχοντας καὶ συστρατήγους
ἢ ἐκείνους, οἳ μᾶλλον ἀλλήλων ἢ τῶν πολεμίων ἀγωνιζόμενοι περιεῖναι διετέλεσαν.
264
 
In his two works Having many friends and How to tell a flaerer from a friend
Plutarch elaborates on the subject of the ideal friendship: friendship of two men
in the same social class, with mutual hobbies and lifestyles, who together strive
for virtue. Mutual sincerity and delicacy of feelings are the source of beauty,
pleasure, and benefit.
Next to this philosophical friendship he presents friends how he sees them,
and how he wants to see them in his environment. It is a wide circle of more and
less important friends, both old and young. ey are mentioned in the margins
of various works dedicated to different problems. Nevertheless, there can be devised an image of a constant presence of intimates that accompany this wealthy,
educated Greek. He himself calls them filoi. e recurrence of this motif is not
surprising, if one remembers how wide the author’s circle of friends was.¹²³
Bibliography:
Blomqvist K., 1997, From Olympias to Aretaphila: Women in Politics in Plutarch, in Plutar and
His Intellectual World. Essays on Plutar, edited by J. Mossman, London, 73–97.
Konstan D., 1997, Friendship in the Classical World, Cambridge – New York.
O’Neill E.N., 1997, Plutarch on Friendship, in Greco-Roman Perspectives on Friendship, edited by
J.T. Fitzgerald, Atlanta, 105–122.
Pomeroy S.B. (ed), 1999, Plutar’s Advice to the Bride and Groom. A Consolation to His Wife, Oxford
– New York.
Puech B., 1992, Prosopographie des amis de Plutarque, in Aufstieg und Niedergang der römisen
Welt II.33.6, 4829–4893.
Rist J.M., 2001, Plutarch’s « Amatorius »: A Commentary on Plato’s eories of Love?, Classical
arterly 51.2, 557–575.
Stählin G., 1974, Φίλος, Φίλη, Φιλία, in eological Dictionary of the New Testament, edited by G. Kittel, G. Friedrich, G.W. Bromiley, IX, 146–154.
¹²³ Puech 1992, 4829–4893.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
C. CAESONIUS MACER RUFINIANUS — LE HÉROS
DES TEMPS DIFFICILES
D O
À
la charnière des IIe et IIIe siècles, mille sénateurs siégeaient au Sénat romain. Au cours des guerres civiles leur nombre diminuait d’habitude,
mais pendant la période de stabilisation interne, il revenait à son état
originaire. La plupart des sénateurs (autant que nous sachons le dire à la base de
leur cursus) avaient derrière eux une carrière typique qui à travers la questure, la
préture et les magistratures de rang de préteurs conduisait une partie d’entre eux
au consulat. Dans le cas des hommes issus de gentes senatoriae une promotion
consulaire était sûre (si seulement un sénateur ne s’était pas mêlé des actions
de l’opposition contre l’empereur) ; les autres, c’est-à-dire les homines novi, devaient la gagner au cours d’une longue et pénible carrière. Grâce aux expériences
acquises durant le service fait aux différents postes, ils constituaient la base de
l’administration de l’Empire et leurs cursus étaient vastes et incluaient de nombreuses fonctions. Pourtant le fait que la plupart des homines novi aeignaient
le consulat assez tard, faisait que les carrières post-consulaires, pour des raisons
naturelles n’étaient pas longues et se limitaient à deux ou trois magistratures.
Dans ces conditions, l’apparition d’un sénateur dont le cours de la carrière était
différent des principes établis désignait le plus souvent un homme hors du commun, plein de vertus et de talents. C’est sans doute C. Caesonius Macer Rufinianus
qui était un tel sénateur.
Il naquit probablement en 153. Son origo n’est pas confirmée, bien que le gentilicium indique l’origine italique¹. Il a commencé la carrière de sénateur à partir
du poste de III vir capitalis, traditionnellement aribué aux homines novi qui n’avaient pas de relations convenables². Le grade suivant dans sa carrière était le
¹ Pour l’origine italique se prononcent entre autres : Alöldy 1968, 137 ; Barbieri 1952, 31, no 106 ;
Birley 1971, 339 ; H. Dessau, ad CIL, XIV, 3902 ; Dietz 1980, 104 ; Fitz 1993–1995, II, 638, 643, 671 ;
PIR², C, 210 (E. Groag) ; Leunissen 1989, 357. Il faut pourtant souligner que les cognomina Macer et
Rufinianus étaient populaires sur le territoire de l’Afrique romaine et le rôle que Caesonius a joué
à la guerre pour le pouvoir de Septime Sévère permeent de dire qu’il avait des liens forts avec la
patrie du futur empereur (peut-être par ex. par la famille maternelle).
² Toute la carrière de Caesonius selon CIL, XIV, 3900 = ILS, 1182 = InscrIt, IV.1, 102 : III vir capitalis,
tribunus legionis I adiutricis, donatus donis militaribus a divo Marco, quaestor provinciae Narbonen-
265
266
 
service dans l’armée au rang de tribun militaire qu’il a fait dans la legio I Adiutrix
stationnant en Pannonie. Si nous admeons qu’il s’était enrôlé dans l’armée à
l’âge de vingt ans, son séjour du Danube tomberait dans les années 173–175. À
cee époque-là, l’Empire dans cee région-là, menait des guerres marcomanes,
des guerres contre les Sarmates et les ades. Caesonius y participait sans aucun
doute parce que son cursus inclut l’information qu’il avait été distingué par l’empereur Marc Aurèle (donatus donis militaribus a divo Marco). G. Alöldy date cet
événement des années 178–180³, H.-G. Pflaum, partageant l’opinion d’E. Rierling, le date de l’année 173 où plusieurs officiers étaient distingués de la sorte par
le princeps⁴. Pour des raisons chronologiques, je me penche pour cee deuxième
option présentée.
Les dona militaria voulaient dire que la légion de Caesonius (ou bien
lui-même) s’était distinguée dans le combat ce qui permet de conclure qu’il était
sûrement un homme courageux. Cet événement avait sans doute une importance
cruciale pour sa carrière parce qu’après l’épisode du Danube, il devint questeur.
Il exerçait sa questure dans la province de Gaule narbonnaise qui se trouvait sous
l’autorité du Sénat romain. La carrière ultérieure de Caesonius, malgré ses mérites militaires, était composée presqu’en totalité de magistratures stricte civiles.
Après la questure, il devint tribun plébéien, légat du proconsul de Bétique, préteur, et après la préture, légat du proconsul d’Asie. Il faut remarquer qu’il exerçait
les deux légations dans des provinces sénatoriales, ce qui provoquait habituellement un ralentissement de la carrière. Il reçut jusqu’à six fonctions prétoriennes
(y compris celle de légation en Asie mentionnée ci-dessus) (legatus proconsulis
provinciae Asiae, curator rei publicae Asculanorum, legatus legionis VII Claudiae,
proconsul provinciae Aaiae, curator rei publicae Tarracinensium, legatus Augusti
pro praetore provinciae Lusitaniae), ce qui indique son humble origine. Parmi les
fonctions prétoriennes font réfléchir deux fonctions de curateur des villes qui
étaient aribuées le plus souvent aux sénateurs ayant des expériences dans la
gestion des finances. Par contre, n’étonne pas le commandement de la legio VII
Claudia stationnant à Viminacium (la Mésie Supérieure), lequel signifiait pour
Caesonius le retour à l’armée, à la frontière danubienne qu’il connaissait déjà
bien auparavant. Il a pourtant reçu cee nomination de Commode, sous le règne
de qui, Rome ne menait pas de combats dans cee région-là, et ceci ne permet
sis, tribunus plebis, legatus (proconsulis) provinciae Baeticae, praetor, legatus (proconsulis) provinciae
Asiae, curator rei publicae Asculanorum, legatus legionis VII Claudiae, proconsul provinciae Aaiae,
curator rei publicae Tarracinensium, legatus Augusti pro praetore provinciae Lusitaniae, curator rei
publicae Teanensium, curator alvei Tiberis, legatus Augusti (AE 1995, 1165 : leg. Augg.) pro praetore
Germaniae superioris, curator aquarum et Miniciae, proconsul provinciae Africae, curator rei publicae
Lanivinorum II, comes imp. Severi Alexandri Aug., sodalis Augustalis.
³ Alöldy 1969, 146.
⁴ RE, XII.2, 1925, col. 1401 (E. Riterling) ; Pflaum 1978, 84.
.   
267
pas de dire que la décision de l’empereur était le résultat d’une situation militaire
difficile.
Ce tableau surprenant de fonctions dans la carrière de Caesonius permet de
tirer deux conclusions :
1. Caesonius n’avait pas de patron politique et c’est pourquoi, il recevait différents postes, parfois, peu prestigieux,
2. il était un homme aux multiples talents (et sans doute persévérant), c’est
pourquoi malgré le manque de relations convenables, il remportait des succès.
Au début de sa carrière, il ne semblait pas avoir autant de succès pour pouvoir obtenir le poste de consulat. La destinée lui était pourtant favorable dont la preuve
est sa fonction de gouverneur de la Province de Lusitanie. Au cours de l’exercice de cee fonction, Caesonius apprit successivement la mort de Commode,
la prise du pouvoir par Didius Iulianus, la proclamation impériale du légat de
Pannonie Septime Sévère et du légat de Syrie Pescennius Niger. Dans la guerre
civile qui éclata en 193, il s’est prononcé du côté de Septime Sévère, ce qui eut
une influence décisive pour son sort. Il est difficile d’établir pourquoi il a décidé
de choisir l’affaire du légat de Pannonie au moment où les provinces gauloises
et espagnoles soutenaient les prétentions de Clodius Albinus, légat de Bretagne.
Clodius Albinus est pourtant passé du côté de Septime Sévère, encouragé par
la fonction du césar. Il est possible qu’au début, Caesonius soutenait Albinus et
avec lui seulement, a rejoint la fraction de Septime Sévère. Il a passé les années
suivantes à gouverner la Lusitanie et n’a pas participé à une grande expédition
de Septime Sévère en Orient. Les commandements des corps de cee expédition
ont été confiés aux hommes étroitement liés à l’empereur : L. Marius Maximus
Perpetuus Aurelianus, L. Fabius Cilo Septiminus Catinius Acilianus Lepidus Fulcinianus, Tib. Claudius Candidus, P. Cornelius Anullinus, T. Sextius Lateranus,
Probus, (Iulius ?) Laetus.
Nous pouvons en déduire que Caesonius n’avait pas de relations tellement
personnelles avec Septime Sévère, ce qui influait sur sa position politique : il est
resté au poste qu’il occupait encore quelques années. and la guerre de Septime
Sévère contre Clodius Albinus éclata, il a certainement soutenu ce premier, ce que
prouve la suite de son cursus honorum. Il est possible qu’il luait contre l’armée
d’Albinus, bien que le manque de sources ne permee pas de le constater de manière sûre. Après la guerre, Caesonius a reçu la fonction de curator rei publicae
Teanensium, tellement insignifiante que nous pouvons douter de l’importance de
son rôle joué dans la guerre civile à peine terminée. Pourtant, bientôt, (en 197 ou
en 198), Caesonius devint consul suffect, ce qui était une évidente récompense
pour ses actions en Espagne. Le poste de curateur de Teanum était donc une
sorte de congé accordé au sénateur, à l’égard de qui, l’empereur avait des plans
268
 
concrets ? Après le consulat, Caesonius exerçait une fonction honoraire de curator
alvei Tiberis (198–?200), mais peu après, il reçut un poste responsable de légat de
Germanie Supérieure. Il put prendre ce poste déjà en 199 ou en 200 mais l’unique
indice sûr pour préciser la datation est le fait qu’il l’exerçait sous le règne de deux
augustes⁵, c’est-à-dire avant que Geta ait été élevé à cet honneur en 209. Ceci ne
nous permet pas de dire si Caesonius gouvernait une province déjà tranquille ou
bien s’il devait rétabilir l’ordre après la guerre civile. Après son retour de Germanie, il n’a pas reçu la gouvernance d’une autre province (comme s’était à prévoir),
mais devint curator aquarum et Miniciae, une fonction sans doute honoraire mais
non pas progressive. Nous pouvons dire en comparaison du collaborateur de Septime Sévère, L. Marius Maximus Perpetuus Aurelianus, consul suffect vers 199,
après la légation en Germanie (Inférieure), devint légat de Cœlé-Syrie, au bout
de quelques années, proconsul d’Asie (deux fois), préfet de la Ville, proconsul
d’Afrique et consul ordinaire en 223.
À mon avis, dans la carrière de Caesonius est bien visible le manque de relations convenables avec les élites du pouvoir. Le manque de dynamique dans sa
carrière prouve qu’il n’était pas un homme personnellement proche de Septime
Sévère, ou de Caracalla qui lui succéda. Il n’appartenait pas non plus au cercle
d’amis du collaborateur le plus influent de Septime Sévère — Fulvius Plautianus.
Il faut ajouter que vers 200, Caesonius eut probablement un fils. C’était L. Caesonius Lucillus Macer Rufinianus dont le cognomen Lucillus se réère au nomen
de la mère — Manilia Lucillia. Le fils de Caesonius était consul après 230 parce
qu’il obtint cet honneur comme fils du consul et patricien promu et alors qu’il
aurait trente-deux ans. Ceci fait que nous pouvons indiquer l’année 200 ou même
199 comme l’année de sa naissance et admere que cet événement eut lieu avant
le départ de son père pour la Germanie. La femme de Caesonius, dont le nomen
se trouve dans l’inscription de Tibur⁶, dont le fondateur était son fils, ne nous
est pas une personne bien connue. Il est possible qu’elle appartenait à la famille
de Ti. Manilius Fuscus, consul suffect vers 196 et ensuite, ordinaire en 225. Cee
famille était originaire de l’Ouest de l’Empire⁷ (peut-être d’Espagne⁸), et Fuscus
lui-même était un homme voué à Septime Sévère, ce que confirme sa gouvernance
en Orient, après avoir bau Niger et celle au cours de la première guerre contre
les Parthes. Les influences de la famille étaient peut-être la base du mariage de
Caesonius avec Manilia, bien qu’il ne faille pas oublier que ce sont uniquement
⁵ iel 1995 = AE 1995, 1165 : Impp(eratoribus) L. Septimio Severo Pio Pertinaci et M. Aur(elio)
Antonino Augg(ustis) et Geta(e) Caes(ari) balneum coh(ortis) I Ger(manorum) vetustate dilabsum
a solo restitutum ex precepto Caesoni Rufiniani leg(ati) Augg(ustorum) pr(o) pr(aetore) cura agente
Iulio Clodiano trib(uno) coh(ortis) s(upra) s(criptae).
⁶ CIL, XIV, 3901 = ILS, 1183.
⁷ Ce que pense p.ex. P. M. M. Leunissen (1988, 365) vu la vulgarisation des Ti. Manilii dans cee
région de l’Empire.
⁸ Alöldy 1969, 146 ; Birley 1971, 349.
.   
269
des suppositions basées sur le gentilicium de la femme de Caesonius. Nos connaissances de la situation des deux familles et de la position de Ti. Manilius Fuscus et
C. Caesonius Macer Rufinianus rendent nos suppositions probables.
Dans le cursus de Caesonius, après la fonction de curateur des eaux, une interruption de quelques années eut lieu. Caesonius est revenu au service public
comme proconsul d’Afrique. H.-G. Pflaum, et après lui, P. M. M. Leunissen indiquent que ce fait peut être daté des années 212–215⁹, ce qui d’après moi n’est
pas fondé. Il est plus probable qu’il prit le poste de proconsul plus tard, et je
suis d’avis qu’il faudrait placer ce fait sous le règne d’Alexandre Sévère. C’est
la carrière de son fils qui est pour nous une indication d’une telle datation. Le
cursus du jeune Caesonius inclut une information importante qu’il était legatus
provinciae Africae eodem tempore vice proconsulis¹⁰, ce qui avait probablement lieu
quand son père était proconsul (A. Jardé¹¹ l’a déjà suggéré). L. Caesonius Lucillus
Macer Rufinianus exerçait cee fonction avant son consulat vers 230¹² et de cee
époque-là, il faudrait dater l’office en Afrique de son père. Cela veut dire que dans
la carrière de ce dernier, il y avait une interruption de plus de vingt ans, ce qui
était différent de la norme habituelle et prouvait qu’il tomba en disgrâce, lui, un
sénateur probablement sous le règne de Caracalla (ce qui n’était pas difficile), qui
s’était distingué dans la guerre civile. Son retour au service, Caesonius le devait
à Alexandre Sévère, empereur qui dans sa politique personnelle se référait au
règne de Septime Sévère. Cet empereur a nommé pour la deuxième fois, consuls,
les collaborateurs du fondateur de la dynastie, entre autres : Q. Aiacius Modestus Crescentianus, L. (Claudius) Cassius Dio Cocceianus, App. Claudius Iulianus,
Ti. Manilius Fuscus, L. Marius Maximus Perpetuus Aurelianus, M. Clodius Pupienus Maximus. Le « retour » de L. Caesonius Macer Rufinianus s’inscrit aussi
à cee renaissance des Sévères et le princeps décida à utiliser sa personne aussi
dans le but de faire de la propagande « militaire ». En 231, l’État persan aaqua
la Mésopotamie et l’empereur était forcé à affronter l’agression. Il est parti en
Orient en compagnie de sa mère et de quelques conseillers. Parmi eux, il y avait
L. Caesonius Macer Rufinianus, comme le dit l’inscription de Tibur (voir p. 265,
n. 2), qui lui aribue le titre de comes imp. Severi Alexandri Aug. Caesonius avait
alors quatre-vingts ans et il faudrait considérer que ce titre était plutôt honoraire
et que le sénateur de l’âge avancé, n’accompagnait pas l’empereur dans les combats. Les sources historiographiques ne mentionnent pas d’ailleurs sa présence en
Orient, ce qui confirme la thèse du caractère titulaire de cee dignité et permet
de traiter le titre de comes comme l’équivalent du mot amicus. Après plusieurs
années, Caesonius est ainsi entré au cercle élitaire de conseillers de l’empereur.
⁹
¹⁰
¹¹
¹²
Pflaum 1978, 85 ; Leunissen 1988, 218.
CIL, XIV, 3902 = ILS, 1186 = InscrIt, IV.1, 104.
Jardé 1925, 127–128, surtout la note no 8.
L’inscription d’Uchi Maius AE 2001, 2086 me convainc d’une telle datation.
270
 
Il faut remarquer que l’empereur a décidé de faire appel au vétéran de la guerre
de Septime Sévère, omis dans les honneurs par Caracalla, Macrin et Héliogabale.
L’inscription de ce sénateur, qui n’était pas mêlé de scandales des empereurs précédents, au cercle de collaborateurs du princeps permet de dire qu’à la fin de sa
vie il jouissait d’une excellente opinion pour laquelle il travaillait pendant de
longues années au service de l’Empire.
Audaces fortuna iuvat timidosque repellit.
Bibliographie :
Alöldy G., 1968, Septimius Severus und der Senat, Bonner Jahrbüer 168, 1968, 112–160.
Alöldy G., 1969, Fasti Hispanienses. Senatorise Reisbeamte und Offiziere in den spanisen Provinzen des römisen Reies von Augustus bis Diokletian, Wiesbaden.
Barbieri G., 1952, L’albo senatorio da Seimio Severo a Carino (193–285), Roma.
Birley A. R., 1971, Septimius Severus. e African Emperor, London.
Dietz K., 1980, Senatus contra principem. Untersuungen zur senatorisen Opposition gegen Kaiser
Maximinus rax, München 1980.
Fitz J., 1993–1995, Die Verwaltung Pannoniens in der Römerzeit, I–IV, Budapest.
Jardé J., 1925, Études critiques sur la vie et le règne de Sévère Alexandre, Paris.
Leunissen P. M. M., 1989, Konsuln und Konsulare in der Zeit von Commodus bis Severus Alexander (180–235 n. Chr.). Prosopographise Untersuungen zur senatorisen Elite im römisen
Kaiserrei, Amsterdam.
Pflaum H.-G., 1978, Les Fastes de la province de Narbonnaise, Paris.
iel A., 1995, Eine neu gefundene Renovierungsinschri aus dem zweiten römischen Militärbad
von Jagsthausen, Kreis Heilbronn, Fundberite aus Baden-Würemberg 20, 1995, 725–735.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
GOVERNING ROME WASN’T EASY
THE CASE OF MEMMIUS VITRASIUS ORFITUS
S O
M
eanwhile Orfitus was governing the eternal city with the rank of Prefect,
and with the arrogance beyond the limits of the power that had been conferred upon him. He was a man of wisdom, it is true, and highly skilled in
legal practice, but less equipped with the adornment of the liberal arts than became
a man of noble rank. During his term of office serious riots broke out because of the
scarcity of wine; for the people, eager for an unrestrained use of this commodity,
are roused to frequent and violent disturbances.¹ ese are the words Ammianus
Marcellinus used to describe Orfitus’s rule as the prefect of Rome in 353–355.
Orfitus had two occasions to find out how difficult it was to rule the city upon
the Tiber: in 353–355, and again in 357–359. He was among the people who played
a crucial role in the policy of Rome in the middle of the 4ᵗʰ century AD, which is
why he is within the scope of studies of contemporary scholars.² e materials
which shed light on his career and achievements are: relatively rich epigraphic
material, the work by Ammianus Marcellinus, as well as Leers and Relationes by
Symmachus, the prefect of Rome in 384, and the husband of Orifitus’s younger
daughter, Rusticiana.³ anks to that marriage Symmachus became the owner of
villa de Bauli near Misenum, which had previously been a part of Orfitus’s estate.⁴
¹ Amm. Marc., 14.6.1 (Rolfe 1982, 35).
² Seeck 1883, XL; XLIX–L; Pallu de Lessert 1901, 54–58; Cantarelli 1901, 188; Seeck 1931,
1144–1146; Alöldi 1943, 54; Chastagnol 1950, 166–183; 1958, 235; 1959, 195 (no. 10), 199 (no. 7); 1960,
XVIII, 37, 61, 67, 81, 97, 128, 132–133, 139, 148–149, 187, 195, 207, 268, 271, 341–345, 354, 363, 367, 386,
407 (n. 1), 420–426, 450, 453 (n. 2), 462; 1962, 139–147; 1963, 370, no. 9; 1994, 38, no. 3; Jones 1964,
704; Malcus 1967, 146, (n. 1), 151 (n. 2); Clemente 1969, 625; PLRE, I, 651–653 (s.v. Memmius Vitrasius
Orfitus signo Honorius 3); Arnheim 1972, 88–89, 100, 104, 119, 126–127, 194, 221–222, 225–226–444;
1974, 157–158; Mahews 1975, 2 and 16; Weiss 1975, 20 (n. 44), 28–29 (n. 74), 1992, 296–297; Nellen
1981, 132–133; von Haehling 1978, 373–374 (no. 30), 374 (no. 32), 423 (no. 17), 531 (n. 91); Klein 1979,
113; Vogler 1979, 143, 218, 231; Roda 1977, 79; Kuhoff 1983, 25–26, 36, 75–77, 155, 157–158, 239, 242,
247, 270 (n. 33), 277 (n. 61), 278 (n. 67), 386 (n. 18–19); de Bonfils 1981, 16, 18–20; Barnes 1985b, 10;
Scharf 1994, 17–19; Lizzi Testa 2004, 46 (n. 113–115), 47 (n. 115), 55 (n. 123), 58 (n. 133), 59 (n. 136), 64,
69 (n. 166), 71 (n. 172), 151 (n. 197), 166 (n. 256), 276, 297 (n. 327), 336 (n. 37), 337 (n. 43), 338 (n. 46–47
and 49), 355, 369, 379, 424 (n. 351–352), 424 (n. 350), 425 (n. 354–355), 427, 440–441.
³ Sym., Rel., 34.8; 12; Ep., 1.11; 9.150; Sid. Ap., Ep., 2.10.
⁴ Sym., Ep., 1.11.
271
272
 
e abovementioned fragment by Ammianus, in which he complains about Orfitus’s knowledge of artes liberales, which he considered insufficient for a Roman
noble,⁵ is at the same time an indication of his belonging to the upper class of
the empire’s social elite.⁶ e beginnings of Orfitus’s career seem typical of a
Roman aristocrat: quaestorship, praetorship and suffectconsulship.⁷ All of them
were held by Orfitus at a young age,⁸ probably towards the end of Constantine’s
⁵ More on that topic: Nellen 1981, 32–133.
⁶ Seeck 1931, 1145; Arnheim 1972, 88–89, 119, 126–127; 1973, 443; Barnes 1974, 445. e scholars
added further arguments, this time of more erudite nature, to Ammianus’s words. According to
Anheim, Orfitus was a descendent of the oldest and the most respected Roman families, being
clearly related to the houses of Memmi and Graci. Another proof of his upper-class background
was to be his uncommon name Vitrasius (Arnheim 1972, 127). Also the fact that he had held “three
republican magistracies at the beginning of his carrier is in itself an indication of senatorial birth”
(Arnheim 1972, 88). Similarly, in the article from 1973 Arnheim includes Orfitus into the “members
of families with long noble lines” (Arnheim 1973, 443). Similar claims have been put forward by
Barnes, who pointed out that Orfitus should be included into the Roman nobilitas, as he met all
the “qualitative” criteria, such as: being a member of a family with long history, in this case reaching back to the 2ⁿᵈ century AD, having an consul among his ancestors and obtaining a consulate
and a prefecture himself. A detailed list of family members was made by Jacques 1986, 223–224;
see also: Lizzi Testa 2004, 276. e discussion on Orfitus’s social background was largely brought
about by the claims put forward by Chastagnol in 1958, according to whom the posts from which
he started his career: quaestorship, praetorship and suffectconsulship, had already lost their high
status aer 315 AD (especially the suffectconsulship) and had been removed from cursus honorum among the members of the most powerful senatorial families, appearing since that date only
among the lesser senators and homines novi (Chastagnol 1958, 233). Several years later, in 1962,
Chastagnol came to believe that suffectconsulship disappeared from the cursus honorum of sons
from aristocratic families in 337 (1962, 141). Chastagnol’s view significantly affected the views of
other scholars (Barrow 1973, 185: the posts which Orfitus held at the beginning of his career were
“not usually held by the best families”; Vera 1981, 259; Malcus 1967, 151, n. 2: “senatorischer Geburt,
gehörte er aber nicht zur Aristokratie”, and Mahews 1974, 98: “even includes him into spurious
persons”). A. Chastagnol, however, was uncertain how to classify Orfitus. In 1950 he wrote the
following about Orfitus: “l’un des membres les plus éminents de l’aristocratie païenne de Rome”
(Chastagnol 1950, 163). In his already classic monograph of Rome prefecture he included him into
“des grand seigneurs Romains” (1960, 420), but on another page of the same work commented on
his background as follows: “la naissance était assez obscure” (1960, 423), whereas two years later
returned to his original views and considered him to be a senator from a lesser family (1962, 140;
141). e scholars’ problems with defining Orfitus’s social status are best illustrated by the views of
Kuhoff, coming from different pages of the same monograph he wrote concerning civilian careers
of Roman senators in the 4ᵗʰ century AD. Kuhoff claims, for instance, that the events such as calling
him nobilis by Ammianus, being a member of priest colleges: pontifices and quindecimviri, as well
as of a consistory, representing the Roman Senate in front of Constantius cannot concern a senator
who was “weniger angesehen” (Kuhoff 1983, 277), seemingly following the views by Arnheim and
Barnes. In other fragments he remarks that the quaestorship and praetorship appears in the careers
of both the senators who “der höchsten Ranggruppe angehörten”, but also the senators who formed
“milere Rang” and “niederrangige Senatoren” (1983, 26–27), whose social background “undeutlich
war”. He includes Orfitus into the laer group (1983, 26)! Later on, however, He includer Orfitus
“Zur Gruppe der bedeutenden Männer aus der gentes der Reichhaupstadt” (1983, 155) and “den
Angehörigen der bedeutenden stadtrömischen Familien” (1983, 242).
⁷ CIL, VI, 1739–1742 (Roma); Clemente 1969, 625 wrongly assumed that the consulate held by
Orfitus at the beginning of his career is an ordinary one.
⁸ CIL, VI, 1742 (Roma): omnibusque perfuncto honoribus intra aetatis primordia; 1741 (Roma): ipsa
iuventute.
  ’ 
273
reign.⁹ Next, Orfitus became the governor of Sicily with the title of consular.
His term in this office should be placed between the deaths of Constantine II
and Constans, which means 340/350.¹⁰ During his term as governor he built the
statio of the public post in ermae Selinuntae.¹¹ His career gained momentum
during the conflict between Magnentius and Constantius. It seems that Orfitus
was among those Roman senators who took the side of the legitimate emperor in the Magnentius-Constantius conflict.¹² He probably le Rome and headed
East, to Constantius’s court, where he obtained the title of count of the second
order and having become one participated in the campaign against Magnentius,
since the inscriptions summarizing his career describe him as expeditiones bellicas
gubernans.¹³ Orfitus is also said to have been legatus secundo difficilimis temporibuis petitu senatu et populi romani,¹⁴ but it didn’t mean that in 351–352 he was
twice a Magnentius’s envoy to Constantius since, as it was mentioned earlier, he
was among the senators who supported Constantius. Orfitus was charged with a
rather difficult mission of congratulating Constantius on defeating Magnentius
when it was already evident that the legitimate emperor would soon arrive in
Italy, and later requesting pardon for those senators who had previously supported the usurper. Later on his career was developing rapidly: as a result of his
constant contact with the emperor’s court he received the title of comes ordinis
primi, followed by comes ordinis primi intra consistorium.¹⁵
Between holding those aulic posts, probably in 352/353,¹⁶ he obtained the proconsulate of Africa.¹⁷ He thus became the first consul of this province nominated
by Constantius, replacing a dignitary nominated by Magnentius.¹⁸ It was proba⁹ Chastagnol 1958, 235; Kuhoff 1983, 36 and 239.
¹⁰ Chastagnol 1962, 141; 1963, 370, no. 9; 1994, 38, no. 3; Cantarelli 1901, 188 points to the period
between 344 and 348.
¹¹ CIL, X, 7200 = ILS, 5905.
¹² Chastagnol 1960, 420; 1962, 142; Klein 1979, 113, n. 38; Vogler 1979, 218; de Bonfils 1981, 19;
Mahews 1992, 296; CAH ², XIII, 200 (P. Heather) wrongly assumes that Orfitus was an envoy sent
to Constantius while being the prefect of Rome. He was considered a two-time envoy from Magnentius by Seeck 1931, 1145.
¹³ CIL, VI, 1739–1740 and 1742 (Roma). Chastagnol 1960, 421–422; 1962, 142; PLRE, I, 651; Erdbroke
1976, 44; Klein 1979, 113, n. 38; Mahews 1992 296; against: Scharf 1991, 18.
¹⁴ CIL, VI, 1741 (Roma).
¹⁵ PLRE, I, 652; Vogler 1979, 218, 231; Clemente 1969, 625 and Erdbroke 1976, 45 completely ignore
the title intra consistorium in their findings. Chastagnol 1962, 142, on the other hand, does not seem
to notice the difference between both titles.
¹⁶ PLRE, I, 652; Arnheim 1972, 89; de Bonfils 1981, 16; Kuhoff 1983, 157, 386, n. 18; Barnes 1985a, 147;
Lizzi Testa 2004, 46, 369. Chastagnol 1959, 195, 199 and von Haehling 1978, 423 opt for the beginning
of 353. Vogler 1979, 218 and Chastagnol 1994, 38, on the other hand, argue for 352–353. Seeck 1931,
1145 and Erdbrooke 1976, 44 believed he became proconsul in 352.
¹⁷ Kuhoff 1983, 157 claimed that Orfitus was the proconsul of Africa aer gaining the honor of
intra consistorium. However, the careers of proconsuls such as: Proculus, Lollianus (proconsuls of
Africa) and Tatianus, (proconsul of Asia) show that the proconsulate was obtained aer gaining
the title of comes ordinis primi, see: Scharf 1994, passim.
¹⁸ PLRE, I, 1012 (s.v. Anonymus 38).
274
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bly also as the proconsul of Africa that Orfitus held the post of vice sacra iudicans
for the first time. Our claim results from the fact that in the inscriptions summarizing his career he appears as iudex sacrarum cognitionum tertio. Since he held
the post, being twice the prefect of Rome later on, the thesis that he handled
appellate jurisdiction for the first time as proconsul seems justified.
As the first proconsul of Africa aer seizing the province from Magnentius,
Orfitus must have been among Constantius’s close associates, who were put in
charge of the territories where the emperor’s position needed to be strengthened. He thus reminds of another, even more powerful dignitary of Constantius,
Vulcacius Rufinus,¹⁹ a praetorian prefect who controlled Illyricum in 347–352,
which was an especially difficult period for Constantius,²⁰ and was later nominated by Constantius as a “pacifier” of Gaul, also as praetorian prefect. Rufinus’s
step-brother was Naeratius Cerealis, the prefect of Rome in 352–353, which was
right aer taking the city away from Magnentius,²¹ and the consul in 358. It is no
coincidence that both step-brothers were given prominent posts in the middle of
the 4ᵗʰ century AD. e family of Rufinus and Cerealis was at that time connected
to the ruling dynasty, as Cerealis’s sister, Galla, was the mother of caesar Gallus.²²
It was Naeratius Cerealis whom Orfitus replaced as the prefect of Rome. It
seems that also that nomination was no coincidence. Orfitus might have become
prefect for the same reasons which had caused Cerealis to become one. On one
hand, he guaranteed loyalty towards the empire’s ruler,²³ on the other he was
mentioned in inscriptions as nobilis and a zealous pagan, pontifex maior Dei Vestae, pontifex Solis, quindecemvir sacriis faciundis,²⁴ was also “tolerable” for the
conservative Roman senators. His strong position was probably due to his earlier
mediations in contacts between Constantius and the Roman senate.²⁵ According
to Barnes, there might have been one more reason for puing Orfitus in charge
of urban prefecture, not connected with the will to reconcile with the pagan aris-
¹⁹ PLRE, I, 782–783 (s.v. Vulcacius Rufinus 25).
²⁰ Lizzi Testa 2004, 46 includes him into Magnentius’s partigiani, who was used to eliminate Constantius from Illyricum.
²¹ PLRE, I, 197–199 (s.v. Naeratius Cerealis 2).
²² Amm. Marc., 14.1.27.
²³ Erdbrooke 1976, 48, 51–52 goes as far as to claim that it was loyalty towards Constantius, not
administrative talents, which he did not possess, was the reason for Orfitus’s career.
²⁴ CIL, VI, 1739–1742 (Roma); for more about Orfitus’s religion see also: Sym., Ep., 1.1: praefuit iste
sacris; Haehling 1978, 373.
²⁵ According to Chastagnol 1960, 67, it was by far the most important reason for his prefecture.
e author remarks that in the 4ᵗʰ century there was a larger group of aristocrats who obtained
prefecture of Rome in such a way: Maximus (PLRE, I, 582 [s.v. Maximus 17]), Apronianus (PLRE,
I, 88–89 [s.v. L. Turcius Apronianus signo Asterius 10]), Aurelius Avianius Symmachus (PLRE, I,
863–865 [s.v. L. Aurelius Avianius Symmaus signo Phosphorius 3]), Q. Aurelius Symmachus (PLRE,
I, 865–870 [s.v. Q. Aurelius Symmaus signo Eusebius 4]); see also: Mahews 1992, 296.
  ’ 
275
tocracy of old Rome — just like Rufinus, Orfitus might have been a relative of the
Constantine dynasty.²⁶
e last law addressed to the previous prefect, Cerealis, is dated to 23 November 353,²⁷ with Orfitus having appeared in office as early as on 8 December 353.²⁸
e already quoted words by Ammianus, as well as and highly skilled in legal practice probably referred to his duties as vice sacra iudicans. During his first prefecture Orfitus erected a statue of Constantius in the baths on Aventine Hill, as well
as an inscription in which he appears as iudex sacrarum cognitionum iterum.²⁹
He last appears as the prefect of Rome in e eodosian Code on 6 June 355³⁰
His successor was Fl. Leontius, probably nominated towards the end of 355.³¹ e
reason for dismissing Orfitus was probably the riots in the city caused by wine
shortage. As indicated by the quoted fragment by Ammianus,³² his rule brought
about growing problems with lack of funds in arca vinaria,³³ which first appeared
in 351.³⁴ Although in 354 the emperor was already aware that Orfitus cannot cope
²⁶ Barnes 1985b, 10, n. 7; 1995, 144. Barnes refers to a ceremonial vase with an inscription: Orfitus
et Constantia. In nomine Herculis Acerentino [Acerentini?] felices bibatis published by Harden 1987,
280, no. 155; Cameron 1996 proposes to identify Constantia from the inscription with Constantine’s
sister’s daughter.
²⁷ C, 16.10.5.
²⁸ Chron. a. CCCLIV, p. 69. Chastagnol 1994, 38, no. 3 wrongly assumed that Orfitus was the prefect
of Rome for the first time in 325–326. During the first term as prefect the following laws were
addressed to him: C, 6.4.7 from 14ᵗʰ March 354 munera of praetors and quaestors, concerning the
date see: Seeck 1919, 200; C, 9.25.1 from 22 August 354 penalties for rape, concerning the date see:
Seeck 1919, 200; C, 8.13.3 from 28 March 355 donationes, concerning the date see: Seeck 1919, 201;
C, 8.12.7 from 24 April 355 donationes, concerning the date see: Seeck 1919, 201; C, 14.3.2 from
6 June 355 membership in the guild of bakers, concerning the date see: Seeck 1919, 201; CI, 7.37.1
donationes, undated, according to Seeck 1919, 201, the law should be dated to 28 March 355; CI,
12.1.6 membership in corpora negotiatores and monetarii; undated. Seeck 1919, 20 and Chastagnol
1962, 142, n. 146 dated the law to 6 July 355.
²⁹ CIL, VI, 1159 (Roma). e function of vice sacra was oen performed by the prefect of Rome in
that period, see: Chastagnol 1960, 132.
³⁰ C, 14.3.2 [06.06.355].
³¹ e law C, 9.17.3, which does not have an exact date, is treated by scholars as the last one
addressed to Orfitus during his first term as prefect, or the first one aer re-taking the post in
357. Personally, I support the first option. Summary of discussion on that theme: Olszaniec 2007,
288. I also emphasize that the end of Orfitus’s term as prefect of Rome had to occur in summer
or early autumn of 355, as Ammianus Marcellinus informs us that it was the new prefect, Leontius, who delivered pope Liberius, who did not want to acknowledge Athanasius’s deposition, to
Constantius’s court (Amm. Marc., 15.7.6–10). e event took place in the autumn of 355 (Barnes
1993, 118). However, apart from the authors who believe that Orfitus’s first prefecture ended in 355
(like Arnheim 1972, 89, 119, 126), we will also find those who believe that Orfitus was the prefect
of Rome till 356 (like Seeck 1931, 1145; Chastagnol 1960, XVIII, 61, 132, 187, 268, 271, 342, 367, 422,
423; 1962, 142; Haehling 1978, 373 (with hesitation); Barrow 1973, 178; 185, n. 11; Ruggini 1995, 45
(n. 96), 49 (n. 108). e last of the authors is inconsistent, as on page 156 she assumes that Orfitus
held his first prefecture till 355: Malcus 1967, 146, n. 1, on the other hand, claims that Orfitus was
prefect in 353–357.
³² Amm. Marc., 14.61.1.
³³ See: Ruggini 1995, 45, 156.
³⁴ Sym., Rel., 34: starting with the year following the consulships of Sergius and Nigrinianus (Barrow
1973, 181).
276
 
with the situation, he decided to leave him in office till the following year, as the
dignitary to whom he proposed the prefecture, Anatolius, ex-consular of Syria
and ex-vicar of Asia, refused his offer.³⁵ Orfitus’s successor was eventually Fl.
Leontius, former quaestor of sacred palace of Caesar Gallus, who remained without a post aer his death. Constantius was particularly willing to put an experienced civil officer in charge of the city, in order to alleviate the consequences
of his predecessor’s faults.³⁶ Just like Orfitus, the new prefect had to deal with
unrest in the city caused by a scarcity of wine.³⁷ Ammianus Marcellinus provides
a positive account of his rule in the city, calling him firm and resolute.³⁸
In 357 Orfitus became the prefect of Rome for the second time. is time he
started his term in office on 13 January 357 and remained in it till 25 March 359.³⁹
Obtaining the prefecture for the second time is a strong argument in favour of
Orfitus’s connections to the ruling family.⁴⁰ We cannot exclude the thesis that
the basic aim behind puing him in charge of the prefecture was preparing the
emperor’s visit.⁴¹. Constantius’s adventus was planned with great opulence.⁴² According to Ammianus, Orfitus made vast expenses in order to prepare the visit.⁴³
³⁵ Lib., Ep., 311, 391, 423 more about this: Chastagnol 1960, 423 (he dates Anatolius’s refusal to 355);
1962, 143 and n. 149 on that page; Vera 1981, 269; Petit 1994, 35; Bradbury 2000, 174. Anatolius was
Libanius’s friend and correspondent.
³⁶ For more about Leontius’s prefecture see: Olszaniec 2007, 178, 288–289.
³⁷ Amm. Marc., 15.7.3 (Rolfe 1982, 161); see also: Ruggini 1995, 53.
³⁸ Amm. Marc., 15.7.2 (Rolfe 1982, 161), see also 15.7.1.
³⁹ e laws addressed to them as the prefect of Rome: C, 9.17.3 [13.01.357, MSS 06.356] prohibition of destroying graves and using them as building material; C, 9.17.4 penalties for people
inhabiting tombs, addressed ad populum and bearing the date: 13 June 357 [MSS, June 356]. Seeck
1919, 202 considered the dates from manuscript to be reliable and thus dated both laws to June 356;
C, 3.18.1 from 15 June 357, tutorship over the under-aged, concerning the date see: Seeck 1919,
204; C, 15.12.2 from 17 October 357, palace soldiers and palatini may not become gladiators, concerning the date see: Seeck 1919, 204; C, 8.13.4 from 23 June 358, donationes, ungrateful children,
concerning the date see: Seeck 1919, 205; C, 14.6.1 from 25 March 359, lime burners in Rome. For
every three wagons of lime they are supposed to receive an amphora of wine; concerning the date
see: Seeck 1919, 206.
⁴⁰ Barnes 1995, 144.
⁴¹ Mahews 1992, 297 and the turn in the anti-pagan policy carried out by Leontius (Chastagnol
1962, 424–425). According to Erdbroke 1976, 48, it was the emperor’s reward for Orfitus’s faithfull
service. At the moment of Orfitus’s first taking of the prefecture Mahews 1992, 296 describes him
as an individual of personal importance to the emperor. e emperor’s adventus took place on
28 April 357, see: Kienast 2004, 315.
⁴² Amm. Marc., 16.10.4–17.
⁴³ Amm. Marc., 16.10.4. e law C, 14.6.1 shows that the wine from arca vinaria warehouses was
used to pay the guilds of lime burners and transporters. See: Chastagnol 1950, 173–174; Cecconi
1998, 162–163; Lizzi Testa 2004, 71, 336. According to the laer author (Lizzi Testa 2004, 64), Orfitus’s
active bulding policy might have been the result of belonging to traditionalistic pagan aristocracy
as well as political and religious inspirations. She points out that “l’impiegno nel restauro monumentale di Roma” was characteristic of the prefects associated with traditional pagan faction such
as: M. Vitrasius Orfitus, Avianius Symmachus, Veius Agorius Praetextatus, Volusianus Lampadius. It is also worth noting that Orfitus undertook public works in Apollo Sossianus’s temple near
Marcellus’s theatre and erected there an altar dedicated to the god, as mentioned in the inscription
  ’ 
277
e emperor’s visit to Rome was also commemorated by two statues of Constantius erected by Orfitus, bearing inscriptions which praised the ruler as toto orbe
victori ac triumfatori.⁴⁴ Despite such a reception, Constantius rid Orfitus of some
of his competences. He liquidated the senatorial post of urban vicar of Rome (vicarius urbis Romae) subordinate to the prefect of Rome, giving his competences
to the vicar of praetorian prefect, who reported to the praetorian prefect of Italy,
Taurus.⁴⁵ However, Orfitus still performer the function of vice sacra, which we
know from the inscriptions he dedicated to commemorate the victories of young
Caesar Julian in Gaul.⁴⁶
Orfitus’s second term as prefect coincided with other events: the rivalry between Liberius and Felix for the bishop of Rome’s throne.⁴⁷ Various collegia in
Rome and Ostia praised his actions by erecting statues in his honour as a powerful patron.⁴⁸
Orfitus’s second term as prefect also brought about embezzlements. Just like
in 354, there were no resources for wine purchase in the prefect’s arca vinaria.
Symmachus’s leer to Ausonius from 384 indicates that this time explaining that
the funds were spent on public works was not enough and Constantius issued
an epistula to force him to return the whole amount.⁴⁹ Symmachus’s Relatio 34
informs us that Orfitus paid back a greater part of the debt⁵⁰ e case, however, was not concluded. During the rule of Orfitus’s successor, prefect Tertullus,
the emperor issued a rescript ordering the acting prefect to return the missing
amount.⁵¹ e problem thus concerned not only Orfitus, as financial debts and
comminatio sub conditione were required from every acting prefect of Rome. In
Symmachus’s Relatio we find a huge sum of 11446 solidi which had been returned
CIL, VI, 45 = ILS, 3222 (Roma; more about this: Chastagnol 1960, 139, 149, 354; von Haehling 1978,
373–374; Klein 1979, 113). In the winter of 357/358 a huge obelisk was transported from ebes in
Egypt was placed in Circus Maximus (Amm. Marc., 17.4 passim). e Castors’ temple in Ostia was
already dedicated by his successor Tertullus in 360 or 361 (Amm. Marc., 19.10.4).
⁴⁴ CIL, VI, 1161 et 1162; 31395 (Roma).
⁴⁵ Olszaniec 2007, 283 and n. 83 on the same page. Literature on that theme also to be found there.
⁴⁶ CIL, VI, 1168 (Roma). We cannot rule out that the news of young caesar’s pagan sympathies
reached the prefect, who was pontifex maior Dei Vestae, pontifex Solis, quindecemvir sacriis faciundis.
⁴⁷ Soz., 4.11 and 15; eod., HE, 2.14.
⁴⁸ CIL, VI, 1739: corpus pistorum magnariorum et castrensiariorum; 1740: corpus naviculariorum;
1741: corpus naviculariorum; 1742: corpus omnium mancipum; Chastagnol 1960, 462; Horster 1998,
44, n. 34 ; Lizzi Testa 2004, 338, n. 47.
⁴⁹ Sym., Ep., 9.150.1; Rel., 34.2: lieras divi Constantii.
⁵⁰ Sym., Rel., 34.8 (Barrow, 187). It is more probable than the assumption made by Chastagnol 1960,
143, 342; Barrow 1981, 178 and Cracco Ruggini 1995, 49, n. 108, according to whom Orfitus already
had to pay the debt than. Chastagnol is not consequent in his beliefs.
⁵¹ Sym., Rel., 34.5: the claiming of this money passed to Tertullus, prefect of the city and a man to
be remembered: if it had been aaed to a man and not to an office, it could have stayed with a the
person of an earlier holder of the office (Barrow 1991, 183) — an unambiguous indication of Orfitus’s
guilt.
278
 
since 351 till the moment when Symmachus took the urban prefecture in 384,⁵²
but which were paid not to arca, but sarcis (…) thesauris, the emperor’s treasury
managed by the count of the sacred largesse.⁵³ e investigation on embezzlements in arca vinaria carried out by Tertullus was going on, even aer the rule
in Rome was taken over by another prefect Maximus, who remained in office till
January 362.⁵⁴ Orfitus’s name reappeared on that occasion. He was incriminated
by the testimony by a member of the bakers’ corpus, Terentius:
a fellow of low origin and baker by trade, by way of reward because he had brought
Orfitus, an ex-prefect, into court on the charge of embezzlement, held the position of
governor.⁵⁵
Ammianus’s text implies that the events mentioned did not take place until
long time aer Orfitus’s term as prefect. Eventually, Orfitus was sentenced to
property seizure and exile.⁵⁶ e governance which Terentius received was correctorship of Tuscia,⁵⁷ which he held in 364–365. It seems that the decision to
exile Orfitus was made by Valentinian I.⁵⁸ It was probably linked to Terentius’s
nomination to province governor.⁵⁹ Recalling Orfitus from exile and restoring
him to property was the result of intervention made by Vulcacius Rufinus, who
regained the prefecture of Italy in 365:
As soon as he (Rufinus — S.O.) gained the imperial ear, he brought it about that Orfitus, a former prefect of Rome, was freed from banishment, and, aer restoration of
his lost patrimony, was restored to his home.⁶⁰
Despite returning to his previous position, Orfitus did not feel confident in
those circumstances. It was probably why he emancipated his daughters, who as
a result did not inherit aer him⁶¹ and were not wealthy.⁶² Symmachus writes
that Orfitus spent the last fieen years of his life in relative poverty, but without
⁵² Sym., Rel., 34.2; see also: 34.7 and 34.11.
⁵³ Sym., Rel., 34.2.
⁵⁴ Sym., Rel., 34.5.
⁵⁵ Amm. Marc., 27.3.2 (Rolfe 1986, 13).
⁵⁶ Amm. Marc., 27.7.3. According to Blockley 1969, 409, Terentius might have held another
low-rank post in the city prefect’s officium, perhaps rationalis vinorum and was thus well familiar
with the abuses in arca vinaria.
⁵⁷ PRLE, I, 881 (s.v. Terentius 1).
⁵⁸ Vera 1981, 279.
⁵⁹ e first law addressed to him is dated to 28 February 364 (C, 12.1.61).
⁶⁰ Amm. Marc., 27.7.3 (Rolfe 1986, 45).
⁶¹ Sym., Rel., 34.10 and 12; Vera 1981, 257.
⁶² Sym., Rel., 34.12: the descendants of Orfitus, of illustrious memory, have obtained from him nothing
but the distinction of belonging to his family (Barrow 1981, 188); Sym., Ep., 9.150.3: mater familias
mea dudum emancipata bonorum possessionem patre mortuo non poposcit atque ideo rescripto se ad-
  ’ 
279
being harassed by anybody.⁶³ He had died fieen years before Symmachus took
the Rome prefecture,⁶⁴ which was about 370.⁶⁵ Cognitio on the case was continued
even aer his death⁶⁶ and as a result it also affected Symmachus’s prefecture in
384. A magister officiorum⁶⁷ who was indifferent towards Symmachus tried to
force him to pay the whole missing amount.⁶⁸
Holding the post which was normally the crowning achievement in a Roman
senator’s career in Orfitus’s case was the reason for a complete turn in his life:
breakdown of his career and poverty.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
ERINNERUNGSPOLITIK IM ALTEN ROM: ANHAND
VON DAMNATIO MEMORIAE UND CONSECRATIO
L O
D
er Begriff „Erinnerungspolitik“ wird in letzter Zeit in allen möglichen
Situationen verwendet. Einfluss darauf hat nicht nur das Annähern —
wie dies Pierre Nora nennt — an die „Erinnerungszeit“,¹ die durch das
Begehen verschiedener Feiern zum Ausdruck kommt, sondern auch die Tatsache,
dass in den letzten Jahrzehnten die Untersuchungen der Erinnerung zunahmen
— nicht unbedingt bei uns — sowohl als Status eines selbstständigen Forschungsgegenstandes als auch als eines eigenen methodologischen Rahmens.² Eine Folge
dieser Tatsache ist zweifelsohne eine neuerliche Problematisierung der Relationen zwischen den Erinnerungen und der Geschichte, und Schenkung der Tatsache einer größeren Beachtung, dass die Geschichte — verstanden natürlich breiter
als nur eine historische Wissenscha — ihre Form in hohem Maße dem „kollektiven Gedächtnis“³ verdankt, das den Prozessen der Konstruktion und Dekonstruktion unterliegt,⁴ auf die die politische Macht starken Einfluss hat.⁵
Das Gedächtnis der Gesellscha spiegelt ohne Zweifel sowohl die gesellschaliche Mentalität und gesellschalichen Aspirationen wieder, sondern
bringt auch Werte zum Ausdruck und formuliert Handlungsziele jeder Gemeinscha. In diesem Sinne organisiert das kollektive Gedächtnis das soziale Leben als
¹ Nora 2002.
² Siehe z.B. Kansteiner 2002.
³ Obwohl sich die philosophischen Untersuchungen der Erinnerung erst im 20. Jahrhundert entwickelt haben, sind das 19. Jahrhundert und vor allem der deutsche Idealismus ür das Hypostasieren der sich auf das Kollektiv beziehenden Begriffe verantwortlich. Dadurch sind Begriffe wie
„kollektives Gedächtnis“ und „nationale Identität“ entstanden. In diesem Kontext ist das „kollektive
Gedächtnis“ ein Spiel, bei dem es um Macht, Loyalität der Bürger und deren Mobilisierung zu bestimmten Aufgaben geht. Das Konzept des „kollektiven Gedächtnisses“ als Erinnern in gesellschalichen Rahmen formulierte im Jahre 1925 Halbwachs 1925; über das Spektrum wissenschalicher
Bezüge in den Untersuchungen der Erinnerung: Olick und Robbins 1998.
⁴ „Das kollektive Gedächtnis“ ist nichts Träges und Passives, sondern ein aktives Feld, in dessen
Bereich die Ereignisse der Vergangenheit selektioniert, rekonstruiert, modifiziert und mit politischer Bedeutung ausgestaet werden; siehe Hobsbawm und Ranger 1983.
⁵ Siehe z.B. Ricoeur 2000, der — im Kontext der Manipulation des Gedächtnisses und des Vergessens — von instrumentalisierten Gedächtnis spricht; im Kontext der Fotografien über die Zusammenhänge des „kollektiven Gedächtnisses“ und der Geschichte mit der Ideologie siehe z.B. Sontag
2003.
283
284
 
Model der Gesellscha und als Model ür die Gesellscha.⁶ Dank seinem sozialen
Charakter dient das Gedächtnis sowohl dem Bewahren als auch dem Gestalten
der Identität. Die Identität des Einzelnen und der Gesellschaen ist selbstverständlich das Resultat der Mitwirkung vieler Faktoren, von denen eines der wichtigsten sicher das Verhältnis zur Vergangenheit und die historische Identifikation
ist. Als Resultat vieler Sozialisierungsprozesse werden die Gesellschaen auch zu
Gemeinschaen der Erinnerung, die dasselbe Bild der Vergangenheit teilen.⁷ Die
Form und die Bedeutung dieses Bildes hängen jedoch nicht nur davon ab, was im
Gedächtnis haen geblieben ist, sondern auch davon, was vergessen wurde. Und
die Art des Erinnerns ähnlich wie die Art des Vergessens haben keinen ahistorischen Charakter, sondern verändern sich gemeinsam mit den Veränderungen
der jeweiligen Kultur.
Seit dem Altertum bis zum Entstehen der historischen Wissenscha im 18. und
19. Jahrhundert waren die Geschichte und das Gedächtnis deutlich voneinander
getrennt.⁸ Die zentrale Funktion des historischen Schreibens war das Bewahren
der Erinnerungen der Familie, des Geschlechtes oder des Staates zwecks Legitimierung dieser Institutionen. Das Gedächtnis und die Geschichte erüllten also
ür den Staat oder andere Gemeinschaen sowohl die Funktion, die Institutionen
der Machthaber validiert, die Autorität der Tradition legitimiert und den Vorstellungen in Bezug auf die Zukun Form verleiht, als auch eine Erinnerungsfunktion. Im Alten Rom waren Träger der Erinnerungen natürlich nicht nur die
Historiographie, sondern auch ihre ellen, d.h. die Archive der Priester, der
aristokratischen Familien und des Senats sowie die Verzeichnisse der Konsule
(fasti consulares) und Ehreninschrien, darüber hinaus — und zwar auf eine sicher nicht weniger wichtige Art — eaterstücke, Begräbnisreden (laudationes
funebres), gesellige Lieder (carmina convivalia), öffentliche Rituale und deren architektonische Szenographie (u.a. Grabmäler und gemeinnützige Gebäude), sowie die dort verwendeten Requisiten (u.a. imagines in Atrien und Statuen der
Vorfahren) usw.⁹ Sie alle ermöglichten die Verwirklichung der memoria. Nicht
alle haen jedoch gleichen Einfluss auf das Gestalten der Erinnerung.
Als Negation des Vergessens war das Gedächtnis (memoria) auf eine besondere Weise von der Historiographie abhängig, die die wirksamste Waffe im Kampf
gegen das Vergessen bot. Der Zusammenhang zwischen historia und memoria
⁶ Schwartz 1996.
⁷ Gegenwärtig hat das Gedächtnis in Folge der Emanzipation verschiedener gesellschalicher
Gruppen seinen homogenen Charakter verloren und ist eher zu einem Konfliktfeld geworden, in
welchem all jene ihren Platz finden wollen, die sich früher wegen des Ausschließens, der Marginalisierung oder des fehlenden Zugangs zum dominierenden Diskurs außerhalb des Hauptstromes
befanden; siehe Said 2000.
⁸ Relation zwischen der Geschichte und der Erinnerung im Altertum: Small und Tatum 1995;
Assmann 1992; allgemein: Le Goff 1988; Assmann 2008, 56–63.
⁹ Flower 1996.
   
285
hae also einen besonders engen Charakter. Sofern man der Geschichte, die eine
Domäne der Gemeinscha war und die nach Wahrheit strebte, bis vor kurzem
das Erinnern gegenüberstellte, das als individuell, psychologisch und als Zeugnis
nützlich galt, waren nach dem römischen Gesichtspunkt sowohl die historia als
auch memoria gemeinsam ür das Gestalten der Zukun verantwortlich, denen
einzelne Historiker oder Politiker Bedeutung aus der Sicht der Gegenwart verliehen haben und nicht nur darüber entschieden haben, was man nicht vergessen
soll, sondern auch wie das zu erhalten ist.¹⁰
Im alten Rom war der Begriff historia — im Gegensatz zum heutigen Verständnis dieses Wortes¹¹ — ein eher universeller Terminus, der nicht nur zur
Bezeichnung der „Historiographie“ oder des „historischen Schreibens“, sondern
auch ür jeden Versuch des Erhaltens des Wissens über die Vergangenheit verwendet wurde.¹² Für die Römer bedeutete historia also eher das Sich-Erinnern
als eine bestimmte literarische Gaung (genre). Historia war einfach Träger der
memoria.¹³ Cicero behauptete, zum Beispiel, dass Historia dem Gedächtnis Leben
verleiht.¹⁴ Derartige Vorstellungen waren in Rom nichts Außergewöhnliches.¹⁵
Darüber hinaus hae das Gedächtnis allein ür die Römer nicht nur einen individuellen, sondern auch einen kollektiven, in der Bezeichnung memoria publica
enthaltenen Charakter. Auch diese memoria publica verband Cicero mit der Geschichte, die ür ihre Bewahrung verantwortlich war.¹⁶ Somit war die Aufrechterhaltung der Erinnerung nicht nur eine Pflicht des einzelnen Menschen, sondern
der Gesellscha als Ganzes.
Im Alten Rom war die Geschichte in Form der Histographie zuerst nicht nur
zur Aufrechterhaltung der Erinnerung, sondern auch zum Erklären — vor allem
den Griechisch sprechenden Bewohnern der Mielmeerküste — der römischen
Expansionspolitik nötig.¹⁷ Diese Aufgabe wurde in den letzten Jahren des 3. Jahrhunderts v. Ch.¹⁸ dank dem Werk von Fabius Pictor und in der ersten Häle
¹⁰ Aus diesem Grund wurde zum Beispiel die Geschichte der Republik unter der Herrscha jeder
römischen Dynastie in den Zeiten des Römischen Reichs entsprechend modifiziert; siehe Gowing
2005.
¹¹ Gegenwärtig bedeutet vor allem „das, was geschehen ist“ und „wissenschaliche Erfassung
dessen, was geschehen ist“; siehe Arnold 2000.
¹² Über das Verhältnis zwischen den Begriffen historia und memoria: Gowing 2005, 7–15.
¹³ Cicero charakterisiert die universelle Geschichte von Aicus als omnem rerum memoriam
(Brut., 14). Beachtenswert ist auch, dass römische Historiker selten den Terminus historia verwendet haben, z.B. Tacitus benutzt ihn nur einmal, wenn er von seinen Vorgängern spricht (Dial., 3.4),
öers nennt er seine Arbeit memoria (Agr., 3.3); siehe Gowing 2000, 46.
¹⁴ Cic., Or., 2.36: historia… vita memoriae… qua voce alia, nisi oratoria, immortalitati commendatur?
¹⁵ Por. Cic., Or., 120; Liv., Praef., 3 (res gestae/memoria); Sal., Iug., 4.1.6; Cat., 1.3; Sen., Suas., 6.4.15;
Tac., Agr., 1.2; Gel., 1.3.1; int., Inst., 10.1.31; vgl. Gowing 2005, 12.
¹⁶ Cic., Or., 2.52: memoriae publicae retinendae causa.
¹⁷ Pina Polo 2004.
¹⁸ Sämtliche Daten — wenn nicht anders angegeben — beziehen sich an den Zeitraum, der üblich
als „vor Christi Geburt“ genannt wird.
286
 
des 2. Jahrhundert dank weiteren Werken (u.a. Lucius Cincius Alimentus, Gaius Acilius und A. Postumus Albinus)¹⁹ realisiert. Später, nach der Besiegung von
Makedonien, mussten die Römer niemand mehr ihre Vergangenheit (vetustas),
Abstammung (origo) und Bräuche und Sien der Vorfahren (mos maiorum) erklären. Jetzt konnten sie ihre Überlegenheit einfach demonstrieren und sich in
Latein — wie dies Marcus Porcius Cato und Lucius Cassius Hemina taten — an
die Römer wenden, um Rom allein aus der Sicht der Aristokratie zu definieren.
Nur sie konnte nämlich die ideologische und literarische Anstrengung übernehmen, deren Ziel die Konstruktion der römischen Identität war. Diese wurde eher
nicht auf dem „kollektiven Gedächtnis“, sondern auf Basis der Erinnerung der
an der Spitze des Staates stehenden Elite konstruiert. Auf diese Weise wurde das
Gedächtnis nobilitas in den Rang der römischen Geschichte erhoben.
Die ersten römischen Historiker — alle, ohne Ausnahme — waren Senatoren
und öffentlich bekannte Persönlichkeiten. Sie haben nicht nur die Beziehungen
zwischen den Göern und der Gemeinscha überwacht, sondern verwalteten
auch das Gedächtnis der Römer und eben ihre auctoritas verlieh den Episoden
der Vergangenheit ihre Glaubwürdigkeit. Die nobiles, „Bekannte“, selbst definierten sich nicht nur durch ihre Popularität zu Lebzeiten, sondern vor allem
durch die Erinnerungen an sie nach ihrem Tod. Auf diese Weise wurden sie zum
Zeichen ihrer politischen Bedeutung und zu einem wichtigen Element des politischen Kampfes in den Zeiten der Republik.²⁰ Die Erinnerung an bestimmte
Ereignisse und Personen oder das Fehlen dieser Erinnerung konnten wichtige
Voraussetzungen sein, die ür oder gegen einzelne Personen oder Geschlechter
sprachen. Daher konnte die Erinnerung geährlich sein.²¹
Aus diesem Grund waren wesentliche Aribute der politischen Autorität die
Möglichkeit der Kontrolle der Erinnerungen und der Methoden ihrer Verwaltung.
In Zeiten der Republik sind zwei wichtige Instrumente zur Institutionalisierung
der Erinnerungen entstanden: Verurteilung der Erinnerung und ihre Heiligung
durch Kulte. Beide Institutionen — jetzt auch damnatio memoriae und consecratio²² genannt — sind aus verschiedenen Wurzeln entstanden, jedoch zu einem ür
¹⁹ Purcell 2003.
²⁰ Cic., Sest., 15: valet apud nos clarorum hominum et bene de re publica meritorum memoria, etiam
mortuorum.
²¹ Um so mehr, dass ür die Römer die Vergangenheit die Gegenwart definierte (Sal., Iug., 4.6:
scilicet non ceram islam neque figuram tantam vim in sese habere, sed memoria rerum gestarum eam
flam mam egregiis viris in pectore crescere neque prius sedari quam virtus eorum famam atque gloriam adaequaverit), und der Verlust der Erinnerung an die Vergangenheit, sowohl auf individueller
Ebene als auch auf der Ebene des Staates, drohte mit dem Verlust der Identität oder sogar mit der
Annihilation; über die Rolle der Erinnerung in der Kultur Roms: Farrell 1997.
²² Der Begriff consecratio bedeutete rechtsgemäß eine dauerhae Versetzung einer Sache oder einer Person aus dem Bereich ius humanum zum ius divinum, was ihre Einbeziehung in die Kategorie
sacrum zur Folge hae (siehe RE, IV.1, 1900, col. 896 [G. Wissowa, s.v. Consecratio]). Dies konnte nur
unter Beteiligung staatsrechtlicher Miel stafinden (Dig., 1.8.6.3 [Marcian., l. 3 inst.]). Daher wur-
   
287
die Form der römischen memoria wichtigsten Zeitpunkt, zur Regierungszeit des
Augustus, wurden sie zur Beschreibung der neuen, angeblich restituierten res
publica verwendet. Der Anfang der die Erinnerung betreffenden Sanktionen —
was sicher mit den Arbeiten von Friedrich Viinghoff im Zusammenhang steht
— wird meist mit der Zeit des Triumvirats (insbesondere mit Marcus Antonius)²³
als auch mit der Epoche des Prinzipats und den Folgen der Verbrechen gegen die
Majestät (maiestas) oder des Verrates (perduellio)²⁴ assoziiert.
Ähnlich sieht die Situation im Gegen-Verfahren aus, d.h. bei der Heiligung der
Erinnerung durch die Erhebung von Menschen zu Göern.²⁵ Sowohl die sich auf
die Erinnerung beziehenden Sanktionen als auch das Andenken waren ein Teil
der seit Jahrhunderten lebendigen, politischen Sprache des östlichen Mielmeeres, die auch den Römern nicht fremd war.
Viele Generationen lang, bis hin sogar ins 2. Jahrhundert vor Christus, wurde
die römische Erinnerung außerhalb der formellen historischen Narration kreiert,
weshalb sie weder tief noch gründlich war.²⁶ Die Historiker interessierten sich
nämlich viel mehr ür die Akte der Stadtgründung und Anänge der dank der
Verbannung des verhassten Königs gestieten Römischen Republik als ür soziale
Mäander der Politik. Verachtenswert war nicht nur die Erinnerung an ihn, son-
de das, was eine private Person den Göern opferte nicht als res sacrae, sondern als res religiosae
bezeichnet (Fest., 318, 321). Der Begriff consecratio bezog sich nicht auf das Ritual der Vergöerung
der Mitglieder der Kaiserfamilie (ursprünglich, zu Zeiten von Julius Cäsar und Augustus, wurde der
Begriff überhaupt nicht verwendet, und er wurde in dieser Bedeutung höchstwahrscheinlich erst
im Jahre 42 nach Christus verwendet; siehe. Syll., 99: consecratio Aug(u)stae und z.B. CIL, VI, 2032:
ob consecrationem divae Augustae), sondern auf religiöse Konsequenzen (d.h. auf die Einührung
des Kultes) des Beschlusses des Senates über die Vergöerung; siehe Kierdorf 1986, 46–49.
²³ Viinghoff wies darauf hin, dass damnatio memoriae kein antiker Begriff ist und von den Römern ür die Bezeichnung ihrer Sanktionen nicht verwendet wurde (siehe Viinghoff 1936, 64–74).
Der Begriff allein suggeriert jedoch das Vorhandensein einer bestimmten Institution, die sich aus
immer gleichen Handlungen zusammensetzte, die Ähnliches als die gegenwärtig unternommenen
Maßnahmen zur Folge haen. Antike Gesellschaen besaßen jedoch keine volle Kontrolle über die
Erinnerung, daher haen die Sanktionen eher zum Ziel jemanden mit Schande zu bedecken und
betrafen vor allem formelle und symbolische Bereiche der politischen Erinnerung (z.B. Porträts;
siehe Varner 2004) und waren in ihrem Unfang unterschiedlich; z.B. Cn. Calpurnius Piso Pater wurde so bestra, dass keine Frau um ihn trauern konnte; es wurden seine öffentlichen und privaten
Darstellungen vernichtet; es wurde verboten sein imago zu zeigen; sein Name wurde aus der Inschri an der Germanicus-Statue entfernt; sein Vermögen wurde konfisziert; darüber hinaus wurde
angeordnet, die Verbindung zweier privater Häuser über der porta Fontinalis zu zerstören; aber z.B.
wurde die Ausührung seines Testaments nicht verboten und die Beseitigung seines Namens von
allen Inschrien nicht angeordnet; siehe Flower 1998; 1999.
²⁴ Erste Prozesse, die mit den Anklagen wegen crimen laesae maiestatis im Zusammenhang standen, gab es bereits in den Zeiten der Republik; siehe Baumann 1967.
²⁵ Siehe z.B. Pollini 1990; Morawiecki 1989.
²⁶ Appius Claudius Caecus (zens. 312 vor Christus) scheint die erste historische Gestalt zu sein,
deren Leben und Tätigkeit — trotz widersprüchlicher Überlieferungen — ziemlich genau rekonstruiert werden kann.
288
 
dern auch an all jene, die sich eine ähnliche Macht usurpiert haen.²⁷ Die sich auf
Erinnerung beziehenden Sanktionen waren in Rom also seit den Anängen der
Römischen Republik bekannt, jedoch kennen wir ihre genaue Reichweite nicht,
das „Verwalten“ der Erinnerung blieb ursprünglich ausschließlich im Ermessen
der Familie. Sie kümmerte sich um die familiäre memoria, die immer den Bedürfnissen der Gegenwart entsprechen mussten, wovon deutlich „Aktualisierungen“
der Inschri von L. Cornelius Scipio Barbatus²⁸ oder P. Cornelius Scipio²⁹ zeugen.
Das Bewahren der Erinnerung und die Sanktionen gegen die Erinnerung begannen erst dann wirklich öffentliche Bedeutung zu haben, als nobilitas erschienen
ist und sich die Historiographie entwickelte. Es ist nämlich ein Medium entstanden, in dessen Rahmen man leicht Umdeutungen an der Erinnerung vornehmen
konnte.
Die die Expansionspolitik begleitende Steigerung der Bedeutung der römischen Gemeinscha stützte sich auf das Gleichgewicht zwischen Kooperation
und der Konkurrenz der Mitglieder der regierenden Aristokratie und auf festgelegte Grundsätze betreffend die Ausübung der höchsten Ämter und ausgewählter
Lebensaspekte. In diesem republikanischen politischen System konnten die Individuen und deren Familien den Status und den Rang sowohl durch eine Serie von
Wahlsiegen als auch durch spätere Ausnutzung der öffentlichen Erinnerung an
ihre eigenen Leistungen während der Ausübung verschiedener politischen Funktionen erreichen. In einer Gesellscha, in der die Politik als der renommiertesten
Bereich der Aktivität galt, wurde das Bild der Familie durch die Summe individueller Leistungen ihrer Mitglieder kreiert. In einem solchen Konkurrenzsystem
war die Erinnerung von großer Bedeutung, da sie die Chancen ür die Wiederholung ruhmvoller Tradition der Ausübung höchster Ämter erhöhte.³⁰ Auf diese
Art und Weise wurde memoria nobilium nicht nur eine familiäre, sondern auch
eine öffentliche Angelegenheit.³¹ Die Konsequenz der Veröffentlichung der Erinnerung war die, dass im 2. Jahrhundert vor Christus — wovon die Beispiele von
²⁷ Siehe z.B. der Fall von Spurius Cassius (485 vor Christus): Liv., 2.41.11; Dion. Hal., 8.79; Spurius
Maelius (439 vor Christus): Cic., Div., 2.39; Varro, Ling., 5.157; Liv., 2.41.11; Dion. Hal., 12.4; De vir.
ill., 17.5; oder von Manilius Capitolinus (384 vor Christus): Liv., 6.20.13; 7.28.5; Ovid., Fasti, 6.185;
Plut., Cam., 36; De vir. ill., 24; siehe Mustakaillio 1994, 90-91; Liou-Gille 1996; Flower 2006, 44-51.
²⁸ CIL, VI, 31587 = ILS, 1 = ILLRP, 309 (Beseitigung des Anfangs der Inschri); siehe Flower 1996,
170–177.
²⁹ CIL, VI, 37039 = ILS, 4 = ILLRP, 311 (Hinzuügung einer neuen Zeile); siehe Tatum 1988; Moir
1988.
³⁰ Sal., Iug., 63.6 (vgl. Cat., 23.6): etiam tum alios magistratus plebs, consulatum nobilitas inter se
per manus tradebat. novos nemo tam clarus neque tam egregiis factis erat, quin indignus illo honore
et is quasi pollutus haberetur.
³¹ Harriet I. Flower nennt ünf Faktoren, die auf die Gestaltung der römischen Erinnerung Einfluss
haen und ür die Entwicklung der damit verbundenen Sanktionen in den Zeiten der Republik
entscheidend waren: Teilnahme der Familien am politischen Kampf, Sicherheit des Staates, Entwicklung der Historiographie, Einfluss griechischer Muster und imperialistische Rhetorik; siehe
Flower 2006, 60.
   
289
Karthago und Korinth zeugen — die Missbilligung der Erinnerung bereits ein sehr
gut bekanntes Konzept war, das nicht mehr eine nur familiäre Angelegenheit war,
sondern Gegenstand des Interesses der ganzen Gesellscha und eine nicht nur in
Bezug auf das Individuum, sondern auf die ganzen Gemeinschaen angewandte
Maßnahme wurde.
Ähnlich wie die sich auf die Erinnerung beziehenden Sanktionen nimmt auch
die Heiligung der Erinnerung ihren Ursprung in der familiären Tradition. Kein
Römer erreichte den gölichen Status im öffentlichen Bereich in den Zeiten der
Republik, da dies unmöglich war, was jedoch nicht heißt, dass diese Idee bis zu
den Zeiten Cäsar nicht vorhanden war.³² Sie war vorhanden, jedoch nur im privaten Bereich. Im Bereich domus verdienten nicht nur die verstorbenen Familienmitglieder (als divi parentes, und später, zu Zeiten des Kaiserreichs als di Manes)
den den Göern gleich gestellten Kult,³³ vielmehr besaß auch jeder pater familias
einen quasi-gölichen Status, zumindest in Bezug auf Sklaven und Freigelassene,
die — gewöhnlich im Larenkult — seinen genius verehrten. Ähnlich wurden iuno
mater familias³⁴ verehrt.
Ursprünglich hae genius einen breiten Bezug auf die prokreative Kra der
Familie, vor allem des Hausherrn (pater familias). In Zeiten der Republik wurde er ein göliches Element, das jeden Mann von der Geburt an bis zum Tode
begleitete.³⁵ Er wurde vor allem im Zusammenhang mit dem Geburtstag geehrt
(dies natalis).³⁶ Ein Teil des Rumpfs von Tibill zeigt hingegen auf, dass es bei
Geburtstagen einer Frau Opfergaben ür ihre iuno gab.³⁷ Das Konzept genius hat
³² Die Idee des gölichen Status der Menschen war in Rom vorhanden ohne Rücksicht auf die
Beurteilung des Status römischer Könige, die ihre Triumphatoren nachahmten (siehe Versnel 1970,
66) oder des Einflusses des hellenistischen Konzeptes des Gomenschentums auf römische Anührer: siehe auch: Jaczynowska 1984. Im Osten war zuerst die Goheit Roma ein Kultgegenstand;
siehe Fayer 1976; Olszewski 1994; später wurde ihr Kult mit römischen Beamten zusammengelegt
oder sie wurde übergangen; siehe Bowersock 1965, 112–121, 150–151 (Aufstellung); Tuchelt 1979;
Classen 1963, 337–338 (Aufstellung); Clauss 1999, 41–46.
³³ Kult verstorbener Mitglieder einer Gemeinscha — divi parentes oder di Manes (Zeit des Kaiserreichs) — mit dem Lemuria, später Parentalia und Feralia verbunden waren; siehe Bömer 1943;
Toynbee 1971, 34–39; Wissowa 1912, 238–240; Weinstock 1971, 291–296; Scheid 1984, 132–136. Dies
war jedoch ein kollektiver, kein individueller Kult.
³⁴ Rives 1992, 34; Fabian 1986, 110. Iuno war ein Gegenüber von männlichem genius und kam o
zusammen mit ihm vor: Sen., Ep., 110.1: singulis enim et Genium et Iunonem dederunt; Plin., NH,
2.16. Dedikationen ür genius/iuno: CIL, XI, 307 = ILS, 116; vgl. CIL, V, 5869 (= ILS, 6730), 5892 (= ILS,
6731), 6950, 7237; VIII, 3695 (= ILS, 3644); XIII, 1735.
³⁵ Cens., 3.1–5. Nach Meinung von Horaz (Ep., 2.2.183) war das naturae deus humanae mortalis.
Sein Konzept überschri weit den Rahmen dieser Bedeutung, siehe CIL, VI, 248: Genius populi Romani; VIII, 2597: Genius domus; III, 993: genius Carthaginis; siehe Weinstock 1971, 205–206;
RE, VII.1, 1910, col. 1165–1169 (W.F. Oo, s.v. Genius); Kunckel 1974, 14–21 (Republik); Orr 1978,
1569–1575.
³⁶ Z.B. Tib., 2.6.8; Ovid., Trist., 5.5.12; Plin., NH, 18.84; siehe Turcan 2000, 29–30.
³⁷ Tib., 3.12.1–2: Natalis Iuno, sanctos cape turis acervos | quos tibi dat tenera docta puella manu;
siehe auch: 3.19.15ff.; 3.6.47–50. Lange Zeit galt in der Wissenscha die Ansicht von Georg Wissowa
(1912, 182–183), der genius und iuno ür göliche Teile männlicher und weiblicher Prokreations-
290
 
— zwar — weiter seine Wurzeln in der archaischen Periode, iuno feminae wird
jedoch als viel späteres Konzept angesehen. Die erste Verwendung von genius
war nämlich überhaupt nicht geschlechtlich markiert. Diese Bezeichnung wurde
sowohl in Bezug auf Männer wie auch auf Frauen verwendet.³⁸ In den Inschrien
bezieht sich genius sowohl nur auf Frauen³⁹ als auch auf Männer und Frauen,⁴⁰ es
gibt sogar Dedikationen ür genii weiblicher Goheiten.⁴¹ Höchstwahrscheinlich
wurde iuno von genius abgeleitet.
Diese Aussonderung konnte in der Zeit erfolgen, als sich der Charakter von
genius änderte und die Position der Frauen so bedeutend wurde, dass ihnen eine eigene „Betreuerin“ zugeschrieben werden konnte. Dies erfolgte höchstwahrscheinlich im 2. Jahrhundert vor Christus, weil noch in den Komödien von Plautus,
in denen viele weibliche Personen dargestellt wurden und gleichzeitig viele Elemente der römischen Kultur, u.a. der populären Religion, aureten, iuno nicht
erwähnt wird.⁴² Sicher erfolgte zu dieser Zeit auch die Veränderung des Konzeptes von genius. Sein Kult, der in sich quasi-göliche Aspekte des Menschen
enthielt, ermöglichte die Erweisung der Ehre ohne sich direkt auf die Idee der
Gölichkeit beziehen zu müssen. Der Kult des genius von Augustus beweist, dass
er ür den Ausdruck des Machtverhältnisses, vor allem durch Freigelassene und
Sklaven, nützlich war.
In der früheren Periode der Republik spielte genius jedoch beim Darstellen sozialer Abhängigkeiten, auch des Verhältnisses Herr-Sklave, eine geringere Rolle.⁴³
Zuerst wurde er von verschiedenen Schichten und Ständen, nicht nur von Personen niedriger Abstammung, verwendet und auch in den Zeiten des Römischen
Reichs nicht nur auf Freigelassene und Sklaven eingeschränkt.⁴⁴ Eine besonders
enge Verbindung zwischen ihnen und dem Kult genius kristallisierte sich erst in
den zwei letzten Jahrhunderten der Republik heraus.⁴⁵ Eben da gewannen die
Relationen zwischen abhängigen Menschen und ihren Patronen eine besondere
Bedeutung. Die einzige Analogie, die einen verständlichen Ausdruck dieser Re-
kräe, die sich in den archaischen Anängen der römischen Religion herausgebildet haben, hielt.
Während genius — seiner Meinung nach — ein individuelles Konzept geblieben ist, wurde von vielen iunones eine große Göin der Frauen, Junona, geschaffen; vrgl. Dumézil 1954, 105–119; Dumézil
1974, 303–310; Palmer 1976, 3–56; Fabian 1978, 55–64.
³⁸ Schilling 1979, 419; Fabian 1978, 108; vrgl. Radke 1979, 153.
³⁹ CIL, VIII, 22770: D(is) M(anibus) s(acrum) | genio Tarquitiae Marcelli matri piissimae.
⁴⁰ CIL, III, 8120, 115110; V, 5892; VI, 18065.
⁴¹ Z.B. Victoria: CIL, II, 2407; Pax: CIL, VI, 17833; Concordia: CIL, VIII, 4197.
⁴² Rives 1992, 38.
⁴³ Vrgl. Wissowa 1912, 177.
⁴⁴ Siehe z.B. Hor., Ep., 1.7.94.
⁴⁵ Rives 1992, 42. Die Sklaven sind in dieser Zeit die drigrößte Gruppe der Gesellscha Italiens
geworden. Ständig wuchs auch die Zahl der Freigelassenen; siehe Hopkins 1978, 102; Brunt 1971,
113–130, sagt, dass sie sogar 40% der Gesellscha darstellten.
   
291
lationen ermöglicht, waren die Relationen der Menschen und der Göer.⁴⁶ Beide
Situationen beduren nämlich zwecks Sicherung bestimmter Vorteile besonderer Bemühungen. Im ersten Fall umfasste der Mechanismus des Ausdrückens der
öffentlichen Ehre ür die Gunst der Göer die Kultaktivitäten. Er konnte jedoch
nicht auf einfache Weise an den Ausdruck sozialer Relationen angepasst werden.⁴⁷ Die quasi-gölichen Figuren genius und iuno stellten hingegen eine subtile
und sozial sichere Art des Kommunizierens mit den Patronen und Patroninnen
dar.⁴⁸ Im gesellschalichen Leben besaßen sie, wie die Göer, uneingeschränkte
Macht in Bezug auf ihre Freigelassenen und Sklaven. Die Dedikationen ür genii und iunones wurden allgemein als Festigung so verstandener sozialer Rollen
angesehen, was jedoch nicht bedeutet, dass dies die einzige Art und Weise war.
Die Bemühungen um die familiäre Erinnerung und um den Kult, der die Erinnerung garantierte und eine Distanz zwischen den Verehrenden von den Verehrten ausdrückte, die der römischen Tradition familia entstammen, wurden in
den letzten Jahrzehnten der Republik aus dem privaten Bereich auf die Ebene öffentlicher Aktivitäten übertragen. Sofern jedoch die Verurteilung der Erinnerung
auf die Tradition der aristokratischen Konkurrenz zurückzuühren war, war ihre Heiligung durch Kult — kann man sagen — eine natürliche Art der Expression
niedrigerer Schichten der römischen Gesellscha.⁴⁹ Interessant, dass diese beiden
Praktiken im öffentlichen Bereich zur gleichen Zeit Ausdruck fanden, nämlich
beim Tod von Gaius Gracchus im Jahre 121 vor Christus.⁵⁰
Als der Senat dem neu gewählten Tribun, M. Minucius Rufus, die Stellung
des Antrags auf Auebung der lex Rubria aurug, versuchte Gaius als private
Person diese Maßnahme zu verhindern und begann eine Schlägerei, bei der einer
der Vertrauten des amtierenden Konsuls Lucius Opimius ums Leben kam.⁵¹ Dann
fasste der Senat den Beschluss, wie Cicero schreibt, uti L. Opimius consul videret
ne quid respublica detrimenti caperet.⁵² Sich auf diesen Beschluss berufend, der
⁴⁶ RE, VII.1, 1910, col. 1161 (W.F. Oo).
⁴⁷ Nicht nur die Relationen Eigentümmer-Sklave/Freigelassener, sondern auch die Relationen
Patron-Kunde wurden o in dieser Sprache ausgedrückt; siehe z.B. Plaut., Persa, 99–100: o mi Iuppiter terrestris; Asin., 712–713: si quidem mihi statuam et aram statuis atque ut deo mi hic immolas
bovem, nam ego tibi Salus sum; Capt., 863–864: ego nunc tibi summus Iuppiter, idem ergo sum Salus,
Fortuna, Lux, Laetitia, Gaudium.
⁴⁸ Z.B. CIL, V, 6502: Genio T. Ailii, Clarus libert(us); V, 7143: Genio Meropis n(ostri), Trophimus
ser(vus); siehe Weinstock 1971, 205.
⁴⁹ Öffentlicher Kult der Römer in Zeiten der Republik: Classen 1962; Weinstock 1971, 287–296;
Fishwick 1987, 51–55.
⁵⁰ Cic., Cat., 1.2.4; 4.5.10; Phil., 8.4.14; Sall., Iug., 16.2; 31.7; 42.1; Liv., Per., 61; Diod. Sic., 34.28a;
Vell. Pat., 2.6.4-,7; 2.7; Plin., NH, 33.3.48; Plut., C. Grac., 13–18; App., BC, 1.25–26; De vir. ill., 65;
Oros., 5.12; über die eatralisierung der Überlieferungen vom Tod des Gaius Gracchus: Beness
und Hillard 2001.
⁵¹ Plut., C. Grac., 13.
⁵² Cic., Cat., 1.3; siehe Ungern-Sternberg von Pürkel 1970, 71–79, 84.
292
 
später senatus consultum ultimum⁵³ genannt wurde, setzte Opimius einen Preis
auf den Kopf des Gaius Gracchus aus und rief die Senatoren und Eques zu den
Waffen.⁵⁴ Die Anhänger von Gaius eroberten Aventin, aber nach dem Fiasko der
Verhandlungen erlagen sie dem Gegner. Gracchus wurde höchstwahrscheinlich
durch einen seiner Sklaven getötet. Optimius sperrte die am Leben gebliebenen
Anhänger von Gaius ein und verurteilte sie zum Tode. Insgesamt kamen vermutlich circa drei Tausend Menschen ums Leben.⁵⁵ Die sterblichen Überreste von
Gracchus und anderen Gefallenen wurden in den Tiber geworfen,⁵⁶ ihre Vermögen wurden zugunsten des Aerariums konfisziert,⁵⁷ darüber hinaus wurde das
Haus von M. Fulvius Flaccus zerstört.⁵⁸ Den Frauen der Getöteten wurde die
Trauer verboten,⁵⁹ Licinia, der Gain von Gracchus wurde sogar die Mitgi weggenommen.⁶⁰ Obwohl die Sanktionen in diesem Fall die Zerstörung öffentlicher
Darstellungen und das Beseitigen der Namen auf den Inschrien nicht umfassten,
wurden Gaius und seine Anhänger öffentlich entehrt und als Verräter verurteilt.⁶¹
Anders als im Fall des Mordes an Tiberius Gracchus entschied der Senat diesmal die Sache nicht zu vertuschen,⁶² aber mit Zustimmung des Senats wurden
Sanktionen eingeleitet, die persönliche Strafen mit der Beschlagnahme des Vermögens verknüpen, was auch eine Aacke auf den sozialen, politischen und
wirtschalichen Status der Familien der Schuldigen bedeutete. Das Repertoire
dieser Sanktionen wurde nicht ad hoc geschaffen, sondern es war eine Folge
des im Laufe der zunehmenden sozialen Konflikte zu Zeiten der Republik voranschreitenden Prozesses. Gaius wurde zwar weder formell noch informell als
„Feind“ (hostis) der Republik bezeichnet, war jedoch der erste römische Aristokrat, der auf Grund eines speziellen Dekrets des Senats ermordet wurde und dem
gegenüber posthum Sanktionen in Bezug auf den sozialen Status und die Erinnerung angewandt wurden.
⁵³ Der Begriff wurde zum ersten mal von Caesar verwendet: BC, 1.5.3; siehe Wirszubski 1960,
55–61.
⁵⁴ Plut., C. Grac., 17.3; vrgl. Val. Max., 9.4.3; Plin., NH, 33.48. Die Festsetzung eines Preises auf
den Kopf war äußerst ungewöhnlich; siehe Stockton 1979, 197.
⁵⁵ Plut., C. Grac., 18.1; Sall., Iug., 31.7; App., BC, 1.26.
⁵⁶ Val. Max., 1.4.2; 6.3.1d; Sen., Marc., 16.3 (Körper ohne Begräbnis); Vall. Pat., 2.6.7; Plut.,
C. Grac., 17.7; App., BC, 1.16; De vir. ill., 64.8; Flor., 2.3 (in den Fluss hineingeworfene Körper);
Oros., 5.12.9 (der enthauptete Körper von Gaius an die Muer nach Misenum verschickt).
⁵⁷ Plut., C. Grac., 17.5; App., BC, 1.26; Oros., 5.12.9; Dig., 24.3.66 (Iavol., l. 6 ex posterioribus Labeonis).
⁵⁸ Cic., Dom., 102; Val. Max., 6.3.1c (Zerstörung des Hauses). Haus von Flaccus: Cic., Dom., 38 und
LTUR 1995 (Pipi). Der leere Raum wurde area Flacciana genannt. (Val. Max., 6.3.1c); vrgl. Berg 1997.
⁵⁹ Trauerverbot ür Ehefrauen und andere Frauen aus der Familie: Plut., C. Grac., 17.5.
⁶⁰ Plut., C. Grac., 17.6; Cass. Dio, 43.50.2; 47.14; Dig., 24.3.66 (Iavol., l. 6 ex posterioribus Labeonis).
⁶¹ Nippel 1988, 85–87.
⁶² Publius Cornelius Scipio Nasica Serapio — Mörder von Tiberius Gracchus — obwohl er die
Funktion pontifex maximus innehae, wurde er durch den Senat als Abgesandter nach Pergamon
geschickt, wo er kurz danach verstarb; siehe Cic., Rep., 1.3.6; Val. Max., 5.3.2e; Plut., T. Grac., 21;
ILS, 8886 = ILLRP, 333.
   
293
Als Zeichen der Wiederherstellung der sozialen Ordnung errichtete Opimius
in der Nähe des Forums den Concordiatempel (templum Concordiae), der wahrscheinlich einen anderen Bau (aedicula) ersetzte.⁶³ Dies war der erste Tempel
in Rom, der mit einem mit Waffen erzielten Sieg über eigene Bürger in ihrer
eigenen Stadt im Zusammenhang stand und darüber hinaus eindeutig politische
Assoziationen weckte. Der Devise „Eintracht“ (concordia ordinum) bedienten sich
nämlich die Optimaten.⁶⁴ Bis zu diesem Zeitpunkt wurden römische Tempel vor
allem mit der Kriegsbeute erbaut und ehrten Siege über ausländische Feinde.⁶⁵
Die durch den Opimius ausgewählte Göin könnte eine Hoffnung auf Friede und
soziale Eintracht suggerieren, die Errichtung des Tempels selbst war aber eher ein
ostentativer Ausdruck der Rache des Konsuls, verbunden mit der Erniedrigung
des besiegten Gegners.⁶⁶ So wurde dieser Akt auch vom römischen Volk empfunden, das einen entsprechenden Kommentar unter der Stiungsinschri des
Tempels angebracht hat. Darüber hinaus beschloss ein Teil der Römer nicht nur
des Gaius Gracchus, sondern auch seines Bruders auf eine ihnen nahe stehende
Art und Weise zu gedenken, und dadurch ihren Widerstand gegen die Handlungen des Opimius zu manifestieren. Plutarch spricht sogar von einem spontanen
Gracchus-Kult, der kurz nach Gaius Tod entstanden ist.
εἰκόνας τε γὰρ αὐτῶν ἀναδείξαντες ἐν φανερῷ προὐτίθεντο, καὶ τοὺς τόπους ἐν οἷς
ἐφονεύθησαν ἀφιερώσαντες, ἀπήρχοντο μὲν ὧν ὧραι φέρουσι πάντων, ἔθυον δὲ καὶ
καθ’ ἡμέραν πολλοὶ καὶ προσέπιπτον, ὥσπερ θεῶν ἱεροῖς ἐπιφοιτῶντες.⁶⁷
Die Worte von Plutarch zeugen davon, dass das Volk den Gracchus-Brüdern nicht
die üblich den Toten zustehende Ehre erwies (dieser Kult war mit der Begräbnisstäe verbunden), sondern sie auf die den Göern gleichgestellte Weise verehrte.⁶⁸ Der Gracchus-Kult hae keinen feierlichen, sondern einen alltäglichen
Charakter und fand an verschiedenen Plätzen der Stadt sta. Vielleicht wurde er
mit dem sich am Altar jedes vicus konzentrierten Kult verbunden (vielleicht sogar
⁶³ App., BC, 1.3.26; Plut., C. Grac., 17.6; siehe LTUR, I, 316–320 (A.M. Ferroni, s.v. Concordia,
Aedes); Richardson 1992, 98–99.
⁶⁴ Wirszubski 1960, 41–42.
⁶⁵ Pietilä-Castrén 1987.
⁶⁶ Vall. Pat., 2.7.6: factum Opimii, quod inimicitiarum quaesita erat ultio, minor secuta auctoritas,
et visa ultio privato odio magis quam publicae vindicatae data.
⁶⁷ Plut., C. Grac., 18.3.
⁶⁸ Auf eine ähnliche Weise wollte Cicero in Bezug auf seine verstorbene Tochter Tullia vorgehen.
Er beabsichtigte ihre „Apotheose“ durchzuühren (Cic., A., 12.19.1: sed ineunda nobis ratio est,
quemadmodum in omni mutatione… illud quasi consecratum remanere possit) und auf privatem
Grundstück am Tiber ihren Tempel zu errichten (leider gibt seine Korrespondenz keine Antwort
darauf, ob es ihm gelungen ist, diese Absicht zu verwirklichen); siehe Boyancé 1944; Olszewski
2002, 110–115.
294
 
mit einem Hauskult⁶⁹), wie dies später auch bei anderen unterm Volk populären
Politikern der Fall war.⁷⁰ Er konnte also mit dem Larenkult⁷¹ oder dem Kult von
genius⁷² verbunden werden. Dieser spontan organisierte Kult deutet zweifelsohne auf das Vorhandensein von Grenzen bei Sanktionen gegen die Erinnerung,
die die nobiles angewandt haben, und beweist den Willen der aktiven Teilnahme
des Volkes an der Gestaltung der Erinnerung seiner Stadt. Der, vielleicht auch
flüchtige, Volkskult zeigt also die Kra der Kultur niedrigerer Sozialschichten,
die eigene Rituale und Methoden der Erinnerungspflege besaß, und die ür die
Kultur der nobilitas, insbesondere im Bereich des „kollektiven Gedächtnisses“,
eine Herausforderung darstellte.
Die Publikmachung sowohl der Institutionen der Verurteilung der Erinnerung als auch ihrer Heiligung durch die Gleichstellung des Menschen mit den
Göern beginnt — obwohl diese ganz verschiedenen Traditionen entstammen —
Ende des 2. Jahrhunderts vor Christus. Der immer schärfer werdende politische
Kampf in Rom trug nicht nur zur Eskalation der bisher angewandten Maßnahmen
bei, sondern brachte auch die Notwendigkeit mit sich, neue Miel zu ergreifen.
Der die republikanischen Grundsätze erschüernde politische Kampf erzwang
das Entstehen von sozialen Praktiken auf der öffentlichen Ebene, die den bisher
ausschließlich im Rahmen der familia vorhandenen Relationen entsprachen. Zur
Kulminierung derartigen Aktivitäten kam es in den letzten Monaten des Lebens
Julius Cäsars und in einigen Jahren nach seinem Tod.⁷³ Das Verhältnis zur Person
Caesars (genauer gesagt die Würdigung seiner Person als Go oder Tyrann) war
⁶⁹ Vrgl. Libationen zu Ehren von Marius im Jahre 101: Val. Max., 8.15.7: nemo fuit, qui non illi
tamquam dis immortalibus apud sacra mensae suae liberavit; siehe Plut., Mar., 27.9.
⁷⁰ Römische vici waren bereits zu Zeiten der Republik Plätze, an denen Politik betrieben wurde;
siehe Laurence 1994. Sie waren auch Plätze, an denen die dem Volk wohlwollenden Politiker verehrt wurden; z.B. im Jahre 85 wurden in compita Statuen von M. Marius Gratidianus aufgestellt,
vor denen Weihrauch und Kerzen angezündet wurden und Opfergaben stafanden; siehe Cic.,
Off., 3.80: omnibus vicis statua, ad eas tus, cerei; quid multa? Nemo umquam multidini fuit carior;
Sen., De ira, 3.18: M. Mario cui vicatim populus statuas posuerat, cui ture ac vino supplicabat; Plin.,
NH, 33.132: Mari Gratidiano vicatim tota statuas dicaberit (Taylor 1931, 48–49 meinte, dass dies
der Kult von genius des Gratidianus war; Siehe Simón und Pina Polo 2000. Als Sulla im Jahre 82
Rom eroberte, wurden die Statuen von Gratidianus beseitigt (siehe Plin., NH, 34.27), und vicus Laci
Fundani ersetzte seine Statue mit der Darstellung des Diktators: CIL, VI, 1297 = ILS, 872 = ILLRP,
352; siehe Lo 2004, 48–49.
⁷¹ Wir häen dann mit dem Kult von lares als einem kollektiven Ahnenkult zu tun. Dies wäre
noch ein Argument, das ür die eorie von Samter spricht 1901, 52–57, dass es einen Zusammenhang zwischen dem Larenkult und dem Ahnenkult gab, was Wissowa kritisiert hat 1904, 42–57,
1912, 166–175; es scheint, dass dies eine in der Nähe von Lavinium entdeckte Dedikation ür Lar
Aineias/Aenias bestätigt; siehe Guarducci 1956–1958). Aeneas-Kult war jedoch ein Kult eines Familiengründers (lar familiaris); siehe Weinstock 1971, 292 und Scheid 1990, 587–598.
⁷² Genius und iuno treten in den Grabinschrien o zusammen mit di manes auf (z.B. CIL, VI,
20237: Genio C. Iuli Augustae l(iberti) Prosopae; IX, 5794: d(is) m(anibus) M. Antoni M. f. Earini
et Genio eius; VI, 23941: d(is) m(anibus) Perperna Felix sibi et Genio suo et coniugi suae) „als eine
Fortührung der persönlichen Existenz des Verstorbenen im Jenseits“; siehe Wissowa 1912, 176;
Chioffi 1990.
⁷³ Siehe Olszewski 2008.
   
295
nämlich die grundlegende, durch diejenigen angesprochene Frage, die nach ihm
die Macht in Rom zu übernehmen strebten.⁷⁴
Nach der Schlacht bei Actium, in einer neuen politischen Situation, wurden
sowohl die Erhebung zu Göern als auch die Verdammung (consecratio und damnatio memoriae) konstitutive Elemente des neuen politischen Systems (des Prinzipats). Die Vergölichung und die öffentliche Verdammung bezeichneten nach
wie vor die Machtverhältnisse; ab diesem Zeitpunkt ging es jedoch nur um die
durch den römischen Senat und die herrschende Familie kreierten Relationen.
Dadurch konnte der römische Senat in Rom weiter — jetzt nur noch symbolisch
— die Herrscha ausüben, die Kontrolle über die Erinnerung an den verstorbenen Kaiser innehabend. Der Kaiser verügte zu Lebzeiten über Miel zur Sanktionierung der begünstigten Position der eigenen Familie. Sowohl consecratio als
auch damnatio memoriae nahmen jedoch nie einen einheitlichen Charakter an.
Sie wurden auch keine Garantie weder der ewigen Gölichkeit noch der ewigen
Verdammnis.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
LA ROMANISATION DE L’ÎLE DE CRÈTE
A P
A
près une lue longue et acharnée contre l’expédition punitive et répressive du proconsul Q. Caecilius Metellus, en 69–67 av. J.-C., la Crète est
irrévocablement réduite en province par son vainqueur, selon toute apparence, entre 66 et 65 av. J.-C.¹ Comme on s’intéressera ici à la question de la
romanisation, rien de plus naturel que de situer le point de départ de l’enquête à
l’instauration donc de la province, au milieu environ du Iᵉʳ siècle av. J.-C. Il n’en
sera pas autrement pour ce qui est de la césure terminale : le nombre et la qualité
des sources disponibles, en décroissance progressive et évidente à partir du début
du IIIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C., puis le développement de toutes les tendances repérables
du processus de romanisation dans l’île avant cee date invitent à arrêter l’enquête à l’extinction des Sévères. Ce qui est d’autant plus commode qu’on arrive
ainsi à une cohérence bien prononcée du cadre temporel, c’est-à-dire l’époque du
Haut-Empire grosso modo, sans oublier que la datation de plusieurs témoignages
ne peut être que très approximative. Et justement cela ressort de la nature même
de ces témoignages, car il s’agit principalement de sources épigraphiques et archéologiques, de sources numismatiques dans une moindre mesure.
D’emblée, il faut faire une réserve de première importance : la Crète est une île
trop grande, trop fractionnée sur le plan géographique (de nombreuses chaînes de
hautes montagnes séparent des régions bien distinctes les unes des autres²) pour
que le processus de romanisation s’y produisît uniformément. Il y a dû avoir un
processus à plusieurs vitesses. Tout dépend donc de la région analysée. Vue sous
cet angle, la zone centrale dière énormément des secteurs ouest et, a fortiori, est
de l’île, la romanisation de l’intérieur n’a eu aucune chance de suivre de près celle
du lioral. Puis, la distribution très inégale des sources disponibles ne permet absolument pas de procéder à une description systématique et isolée de la situation
propre à chaque cité insulaire. La Crète comptait, sous le Haut-Empire, tout au
¹ App., Sic., 6 ; Liv., Per., 99 ; Flor., 1.42.4–6 ; Cass. Dio, 36.2.1 ; OCD³, s.v. Caecilius (RE 87) fait le
point sur la chronologie de la mise en place de l’organisation provinciale régulière.
² Au sujet des six régions géomorphologiques de l’île de Crète (le secteur occidental avec la
chaîne de Lea Ori, l’isthme de Réthymnon, le massif de l’Ida, le bassin d’Héraklion avec la plaine
de la Messara et la chaîne de l’Astérousia en bordure au sud, le massif de Dikti ou Lassithiotika
ou Lassithi, la péninsule de Sitia), cf. Bile 1988, 9–10 qui s’appuie sur les études accomplies par
Bonnefont 1972, 247–670.
299
300
 
plus dix-sept poleis — Arkadès, Aksos, Chersonesos, Eleutherna, Gortyne, Hiérapytna, Itanos, Kantanos, Kisamos (?), Kydonia, Lappa, Lato, Lisos, Lyos, Olous,
Polyrrhénia, Priansos³ — que j’envisage donc d’aborder non séparément, une par
une, mais toujours conjointement, selon des blocs thématiques. Il est néanmoins
patent que la quantité et l’état de conservation des sources, certainement reflétant, dans quelque mesure que ce soit, la position politique et culturelle, aussi
la prospérité d’une polis à l’époque impériale, focaliseront notre aention sur la
capitale provinciale, Gortyne, ou encore Lyos et Hiérapytna. La mise à part de
l’unique colonie romaine présente dans l’île, Cnossos, à partir de 27 av. J.-C.⁴, ne
requiert évidemment aucune justification particulière.
Toujours tributaires des témoignages accessibles, nous devrons finalement
nous résigner à restreindre le champ d’investigation aux élites locales, seules capables, vu le niveau de leur fortune, de prendre en charge le financement de toutes
ces entreprises qui se situent dans ce qu’on appelle la romanisation. Certes, les
couches inférieures ont pu y participer elles aussi, mais, pour ainsi dire, jamais
activement, plutôt passivement, à entendre en tant qu’observateurs des goûts des
autres, parfois en tant que bénéficiaires, voire destinataires des programmes évergétiques. En tout état de cause, à défaut de sources, la romanisation des couches
inférieures est pour nous entièrement invisibles.
Le sujet de l’enquête paraît, lui, des plus épineux. Il touche à cee sphère du
fonctionnement des communautés civiques locales, qui, par la force des choses,
résiste, dans l’essentiel, à une investigation objective. Etre romanisé, ce n’est pas,
tout simplement, porter les tria nomina, faire valoir sa civitas Romana⁵. Les critères selon lesquels il faudrait évaluer le progrès de la romanisation en Crète
devraient par conséquent se référer aux faits de culture, au sens large du terme,
au même titre qu’à ceux de mentalité. Tandis que la culture des cités insulaires
sous le Haut-Empire nous a heureusement laissé un peu plus de vestiges, la mentalité de leurs habitants reste en gros illisible. Somme toute, dans une perspective
plus large, on se heurte à des difficultés similaires quand on veut saisir, dans
³ M. Amandry, dans RPC, I, p. 228 en dénombre une vingtaine pour toute la période romaine,
Sanders 1982, 12–13 vingt-cinq. Alors qu’à l’époque hellénistique Chersonesos, théoriquement partenaire sympolitique de Lyos, n’était qu’un simple ἐπίνειον de cee dernière (sources liéraires :
Strab., 10.4.14 ; épigraphiques : ICret, I.18, 9a.3–6 ; I.19, 3A.8–14 ; IG, XII.5, 723.2–7 ; numismatiques :
Svoronos 1890, 48–54 ; en plus, voir Chaniotis 1996, 430–432, nᵒ 73), elle a dû récupérer son statut
de polis, et le plus haut magistrat — protocosme — avec, au plus tard au IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C., peut-être
même avant (cf. AE 2002, 1619.2–3 = SEG, LII, 848.2–3).
⁴ Perl 1970, 343–345 ; Rigsby 1976, 319–320 ; Sanders 1982, 14.
⁵ Chose curieuse, les caractéristiques de l’évolution de la civitas Romana en Crète, dans l’espace
des deux siècles et demi du Haut-Empire, s’avèrent très éloignées de celles connues dans la province
d’Asie et dans la quasi-totalité des provinces hellénisées de bonne heure, par contre, plus proches
de celles établies pour les provinces anatoliennes de l’intérieur et, plus encore, pour la Syrie ou
l’Arabie (cf. Sartre 1991, 145 et 174–175). Mais faute de place ici, pour l’étude circonstanciée de la
progression de la citoyenneté romaine dans l’île (lente, limitée et inégale), en rapport avec l’origine
sociale des notables, il ne reste qu’à renvoyer le lecteur à Pałuchowski 2003, 418–434.
   ’  
301
son ensemble, la question de la mobilité sociale des anciens parce que « la mobilité sociale est plus facile à déceler sous sa forme juridique […] que sous ses
aspects sociologiques, psychologiques et même économiques, qui interviennent
aussi dans sa réalité globale. Celle-ci ne peut guère apparaître que par instants
dans les textes liéraires qui s’intéressent à l’évolution de la société, alors que
le statut des hommes et des communautés est un élément à peu près constant
de plusieurs catégories, bien représentées, d’inscriptions »⁶. Rappelons que pour
examiner la romanisation en Crète, on ne dispose pas d’un seul témoignage liéraire exploitable. Partant, la question de la mentalité, très faiblement documentée,
sera entièrement exclue de l’enquête.
and on emploie le terme de culture on songe évidemment en premier lieu
à la culture matérielle. L’urbanisation de type romain, l’apparition du cadre bâti
propre aux villes d’Italie sont traditionnellement considérées comme premiers
signes avant-coureurs de la romanisation. On va même jusqu’à établir une corrélation réciproque entre l’avancement de l’urbanisation à la romaine et la quantité/qualité des privilèges accordés par les princes. Dès qu’une cité se dote d’équipements spécifiques qui lui donnent, sur le plan matériel, un aspect romain,
l’empereur sait manifester sa grande bienveillance, en concédant souvent l’un des
statuts particuliers, tant enviés dans le monde grec des rivalités acharnées. D’un
autre côté, les privilèges octroyés accélèrent l’urbanisation de type romain. Cee
approche « matérielle » du processus de romanisation met aussi en avant la principale caractéristique de ma manière d’aborder le sujet, c’est-à-dire l’évaluation
selon les conséquences produites.
Mais tout d’abord, la romanisation passe, sans conteste, par la langue latine
qui est son premier et naturel véhicule. C’est ici que va donc démarrer l’enquête.
Les phénomènes linguistiques
Un relevé systématique effectué dans le corpus d’inscriptions insulaires, en
fonction de deux périodes, c’est-à-dire (1) Iᵉʳ siècle av. — Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C. et (2)
IIᵉ — début IIIᵉ siècles ap. J.-C.⁷, non seulement confirme une infime progression
du latin dans l’île au cours des premières décennies de l’Empire⁸, mais montre
en termes clairs que la langue des envahisseurs perd encore du terrain dans le
courant du IIᵉ siècle de notre ère. Et on rencontre même des poleis où aucune
⁶ Frézouls 1992, 231.
⁷ Une telle répartition chronologique du matériel épigraphique m’a paru appropriée puisqu’elle
permet de comparer aisément la situation linguistique de la Crète avec celle connue dans d’autres
secteurs de l’Orient romain, quie à être confronté parfois à quelques difficultés de datation des
documents examinés. De même, il a fallu faire la part des fourchees temporelles de la datation
exclusivement paléographique de plusiers inscriptions.
⁸ Orth 1973, 258.
302
 
inscription en latin n’a été récupérée. Le tableau ci-après, dressé uniquement pour
les cités (et la colonie de Cnossos) dont la production épigraphique, mise au jour
jusqu’à la fin des années 90 plus ou moins, a eu quelque importance, illustre à
merveille la tendance :
Ville
Cnossos
Gortyne
Hiérapytna
Lyos
Aksos
Arkadès
Eleutherna
Itanos
Kydonia
Lappa
Polyrrhénia
Nombre d’inscriptions en latin au total
Iᵉʳ s. av.–Iᵉʳ s. ap. J.-C.
officielles
privées
11–12ᵃ
14–16ᵃ
2ᵃ
–
–
2ᵃ
0–1ᵃ
–
0–1ᵃ
0–1ᵃ
–
1–2ᵇ
3–4ᵇ
–
–
–
–
0–1
–
–
–
–
IIᵉ–début IIIᵉ s.
officielles
privées
2–4ᶜ
5–8ᶜ
1ᵇ
–
–
–
0–1
–
–
–
2ᵃ
1ᵈ
0–2ᵈ
–
–
–
–
0–1
–
–
0–1ᵇ
–
Nombre d’inscriptions en grec au total
Iᵉʳ s. av.–Iᵉʳ s. ap. J.-C.
officielles
privées
0–2ᵉ
47ᵉ
9–11ᶜ
8–12ᵃ
2ᵃ
5–7ᵇ
5ᵇ
1ᵃ
1ᵇ
2ᶜ
1ᵇ
4–5ᶠ
11–15ᶠ
2ᵈ
2–14ᵇ
1ᵇ
–
1–2ᶜ
2ᵇ
3ᶜ
1–4ᵈ
1ᶜ
IIᵉ–début IIIᵉ s.
officielles
privées
0–1ᵍ
24ᵍ
5–7ᵉ
44–48ᶜ
–
2–4ᶜ
2ᵈ
1ᶜ
0–1ᵈ
2ᵉ
3ᵈ
5–6ʰ
11–15ʰ
6ᶠ
1–13ᵈ
–
–
0–2ᵉ
–
2ᵉ
1–4ᶠ
0–1ᵉ
Cnossos : ᵃ 1 — Ducrey 1969, 846–847, nᵒ 3 ; 2–5 — ICret, I.8, 48, 49, 50, 54 ; 6 — ICret, I.11, 6 ;
7–8 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 200, nᵒˢ 14 et 16 ; 9 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 200–201, nᵒ 17 ;
10 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 201, nᵒ 18 ; 11 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 201–202, nᵒ 19 (?) ; 12 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1991, 191, nᵒ 1. ᵇ Chaniotis et Preuss 1991, 191–192, nᵒˢ 2 et 5 (?) (épitaphe ?).
ᶜ 1 — Chaniotis 1985, 182–183 ; 2 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 196–197, nᵒ 11 (?) ; 3 — Chaniotis et
Preuss 1990, 201–202, nᵒ 19 (?) ; 4 — Chaniotis et Preuss 1991, 192–193, nᵒ 3. ᵈ ICret, I.8, 53 + Woodward 1936, 95. ᵉ ICret, I.8, 39 + Woodward 1936, 95 (?) et I.11, 1 (?). ᶠ ICret, I.8, 17, 21 (?), 22, 23, 24.
ᵍ ICret, I.11, 1 (?). ʰ 1–3 — ICret, I.8, 20, 21 (?), 30 ; 4 — ICret, I.11, 2 ; 5 — Baldwin Bowsky 1995, 265,
n. 7 ; 6 — Baldwin Bowsky 1995, 271–273, nᵒ 4.
Gortyne : ᵃ 1 — ICret, I.17, 55 ; 2–3 — ICret, I.26, 2, 3 ; 4 — ICret, I.28, 29 ; 5–16 — ICret, IV, 268, 269,
270, 271, 271, 273 (?), 289 (bilingue), 290, 291, 327 (bilingue), 329 (bilingue), 459 (?). ᵇ 1 — Alöldy 1973,
41 ; 2–4 — ICret, IV, 295, 328, 455 (?). ᶜ ICret, IV, 273 (?), 274, 278, 288 (?), 331, 333, 334, 459 (?). ᵈ ICret,
IV, 288 (?), 455 (?). ᵉ 1–2 — ICret, I.17, 38, 40b ; 3–44 — ICret, IV, 200, 201, 211, 213A–B, 214, 215A+C,
216, 217, 218D, 219, 220, 221A–C, 222A–C, 223A–B, 224A–B, 225B, 250, 251, 253, 254, 262, 266, 267,
289 (bilingue), 292, 293, 298, 327 (bilingue), 329 (bilingue), 337, 338, 398, 409, 418 ; 45–47 — Magnelli
1998, 1291–1293, a–c. ᶠ 1–3 — ICret, I.17, 17, 18, 21 ; 4 — ICret, I.23, 6A ; 5 — ICret, I.25, 3 ; 6–9 — ICret,
II.25, 3, 16 (?), 17A (?), 18 (?) ; 10–14 — ICret, IV, 252, 263, 294, 330, 370 ; 15 — Baldwin Bowsky 1995,
273–274, nᵒ 5 (?). ᵍ 1 — Gasperini 1988, 325–328, nᵒ 340 ; 2 — Gasperini 1988, 333–334, B ; 3 — ICret,
I.17, 42 ; 4 — ICret, I.29, 1 + Woodward 1936, 97 ; 5–23 — ICret, IV, 257, 275, 276, 277, 279, 280, 286,
287, 297, 300, 303, 304, 307, 326 (+ Merkelbach 1970, 286), 332, 335, 340, 438, 439 ; 24 — Davaras 1960,
460–461, nᵒ 3 + Manganaro 1978, 39. ʰ 1 — AD XXII (B2) 1967, 488 = SEG, XXV, 1018 ; 2 — ICret, I.17,
26A ; 3–5 — ICret, II.25, 16 (?), 17A (?), 18 (?) ; 6–14 — ICret, IV, 249, 296, 299, 301, 302, 305, 306A, 308,
309 ; 15 — Baldwin Bowsky 1995, 273–274, nᵒ 5 (?).
Hiérapytna : ᵃ ICret, III.3, 62 et 63. ᵇ Baldwin Bowsky 1995, 263–267, nᵒ 1. ᶜ 1 — Davaras 1980, 1–8,
nᵒ 1 = SEG, XXXII, 869 (?) ; 2 — Davaras 1980, 17, nᵒ 17 = SEG, XXXII, 874 ; 3 — Davaras 1980, 21–25,
nᵒ 23 = SEG, XXXII, 871 ; 4 — ICret, III.3, 22 ; 5–10 — ICret, III.3, 25–29 ; AD L (B2) 1995, 755–756 ;
11 — ICret, III.3, 52 (?). ᵈ ICret, III.3, 8, 12. ᵉ 1 — Davaras 1980, 1–8, nᵒ 1 (?) ; 2 — Davaras 1980, 19–21,
nᵒ 22 = SEG, XXXII, 872 ; 3–7 — ICret, III.3, 7, 19, 21, 30, 52 (?). ᶠ 1 — Daux 1976, 211–213 ; 2–6 — ICret,
III.3, 16–18, 20, 23.
   ’  
303
Lyos : ᵃ 1–3 — ICret, I.7, 5, 8, 16 ; 4–11 — ICret, I.18, 12 (+ Chaniotis 1986, 195), 13, 15, 16, 49, 51
(?), 53 (?), 57 (?) ; 12 — ICret, III.9, 10 (?). ᵇ 1 — AD XXIV (B2) 1969, 415 ; 2–14 — ICret, I.18, 113 (?),
114 (+ Woodward 1936, 96) (?), 115 (?), 116 (?), 121 (?), 127 (?), 128 (?), 140, 141 (?), 143 (?), 148 (?),
161 (+ Chaniotis 1986, 195–196) (?), 162 (?). ᶜ 1 — AD XXVI (B2) 1971, 499, nᵒ 1 = Bull. épigr. 1977,
370 ; 2–3 — ICret, I.7, 10, 29 ; 4–42 — ICret, I.18, 11, 17–47, 51 (?), 52, 53 (?), 54, 55, 56 (+ Klaffenbach,
254–256, nᵒ 2a), 57 (?), 58 ; 43 — ICret, III.9, 10 (?) ; 44–48 — Chaniotis et Rethemiotakis 1992, 28–31,
nᵒˢ 1–5. ᵈ 1 — ICret, I.7, 20 ; 2–13 — ICret, I.18, 113 (?), 114 (+ Woodward 1936, 96) (?), 115 (?), 116 (?),
121 (?), 127 (?), 128 (?), 141 (?), 143 (?), 148 (?), 161 (+ Chaniotis 1986, 195–196) (?), 162 (?).
Aksos : ᵃ ICret, II.5, 35, 37 + Bull. épigr. 1940, 130. ᵇ ICret, II.5, 44.
Arkadès : ᵃ ICret, I.5, 44 et 45. ᵇ 1–6 — ICret, I.5, 19B, 20B, 22, 23 (?), 25 (?), 27 ; 7 — Ducrey et Van
Effenterre 1973, 283 = Van Effenterre 1976, 205 = SEG, XXVI, 1043. ᶜ ICret, I.5, 9, 23 (?), 25 (?), 26.
Eleutherna : ᵃ Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 202, nᵒ 21 (non datée ?). Dans les réserves du Musée Archéologique de Réthymnon il y a au total cinq inédits latins dont ni la provenance ni la date d’entrée à
la collection épigraphique ne sont précisément marquées. Ces inscriptions fragmentaires viennent
probablement de Lappa et d’Eleutherna. Le musée les possède depuis les années 50 (communication confidentielle de Monsieur Yannis Tzifopoulos, en 200). ᵇ 1–3 — ICret, II.12, 27, 28, 30 ; 4 — KE
IV 1991–1993, 250–251 = SEG, XLIII, 605bis ; XLV, 1263 ; LII, 851 ; LIV, 838 ; 5 — KE V 1994–1996,
272–273 = SEG, XLV, 1262 ; LII, 853. ᶜ 1 — ICret, II.12, 40 ; 2 — ICret, II.24, 11 (?). ᵈ 1 — ICret, II.12,
29 ; 2 — KE V 1994–1996, 281, nᵒ 8 = SEG, XLV, 1264. ᵉ ICret, II.24, 4 (?), 11 (?).
Itanos : ᵃ ICret, III.4, 19. ᵇ ICret, III.4, 38, 39A. ᶜ ICret, III.4, 20.
Kydonia : ᵃ ICret, II.16, 33 (?) (non Lappa, mais Aptéra, soumise à Kydonia, selon AE 1902, 182).
ᵇ Van Effenterre, Papaoikonomou, Liesenfelt 1983, 405–408, nᵒ 2. ᶜ 1 — ICret, II.3, 31 ; 2–3 — ICret,
II.10, 19, 20. ᵈ Baldwin Bowsky 1995, 270–271, nᵒ 3 (?). ᵉ 1 — ICret, II.3, 45 ; 2 — Baldwin Bowsky
1995, 274–275, nᵒ 6.
Lappa : ᵃ ICret, II.16, 33 (?) (non Lappa, mais Aptéra, soumise à Kydonia, selon AE 1902, 182). Pour
ce qui est d’autres éventuelles inscriptions latines de Lappa, voir ci-avant, Eleuthernaᵃ. ᵇ ICret,
II.20, 7 (?). ᶜ 1 — Forrest 1988, 61–62 = SEG, XXXVIII, 915 ; 2 — ICret, II.16, 12. ᵈ 1 — ICret, II.2, 1 (?) ;
2–3 — ICret, II.16, 23 (?), 25 ; 4 — ICret, II.24, 11 (?). ᵉ ICret, II.16, 13, 14. ᶠ 1–2 — ICret, II.16, 23 (?),
29 ; 3–4 — ICret, II.24, 4 (?), 11 (?).
Polyrrhénia : ᵃ 1 — ICret, II.11, 6 ; 2 — ICret, II.23, 66. ᵇ ICret, II.11, 3. ᶜ ICret, II.23, 22. ᵈ 1–2 — ICret,
II.8, 1 (+ Robinson 1957, 425 ; SEG, XXIII, 569), 11 ; 3 — ICret, II.11, 5. ᵉ Bandy 1963, 227–229, nᵒ 1 (?).
Au premier regard, on constate que l’emploi du latin était en fait confiné,
comme on a pu s’y aendre, aux deux principaux points d’aache de la présence
romaine (ou plus largement italique) en Crète : la capitale provinciale Gortyne⁹
(siège du gouverneur) et la colonie romaine de Cnossos, l’une et l’autre déterminant les limites — sud pour la première, nord pour la seconde — de la zone
⁹ En ce qui concerne l’implantation de l’importante minorité italique dans la plaine de la Messara,
voir la grande quantité des décrets de proxénie et de citoyenneté pour les « Romains », à Gortyne :
ICret, IV, 213A–B, 215C (+ Rigsby 1996, 251–252, n° 4), 216, 218D, 221A–C, 224B ; Magnelli 1998,
1291–1293, b et c ; en plus, voir ICret, IV, 278, 290, 291 ; Paribeni 1910, 1274–1275 ; Sanders 1976, 136.
Caes., BC, 3.4 dit expressément que Pompée a levé une légion entière en Crète et en Macédoine,
parmi les vétérans.
304
 
centrale de l’île, à laquelle l’administration provinciale en place a visiblement
aribué un rôle particulier dès le début de la domination romaine¹⁰. Aendu que
l’immense majorité des inscriptions latines de Crète revêtent le caractère officiel,
le latin n’y apparaît nullement comme langue de communication entre les Crétois
et les Romains/Italiques, mais comme langue à usage plutôt interne, autrement
dit utilisée à l’intérieur de la communauté étrangère originaire d’Italie et installée
dans l’île. Il va de soi qu’en latin communiquait l’administration provinciale avec
les ressortissants romains/italiques, et vice versa¹¹. Aux insulaires l’administration romaine s’adressait bien volontiers dans leur propre langue, même quand
c’est le gouverneur en personne qui prenait la parole¹². Les témoignages épigraphiques relatifs aux arrangements fonciers menés sous la houlee de l’administration romaine et rédigés majoritairement en latin proviennent bel et bien soit
des orai cnossienne et gortynienne¹³, soit de la région d’Arkadès toute proche¹⁴,
dont la population autochtone a pu avoir des conflits de voisinage avec les immigrés italiques établis dans la plaine de la Messara, où ils exploitaient leurs domaines, soit de la région d’Hiérapytna¹⁵ qui nous a fourni des vestiges de plusieurs
grandes exploitations agricoles de type romain. En conséquence, il est légitime
de les prendre tous pour des documents officiels adressés par l’administration
aux ressortissants romains/italiques. Une excellente illustration, e contrario, du
caractère hautement officiel de la production épigraphique latine de l’île nous
vient des deux autres centres de premier plan — Lyos et Hiérapytna. Lyos
pendant plus d’un siècle (de Domitien à Caracalla) prenait en charge, apparemment à bâtons rompus, l’érection des statues pour célébrer les empereurs romains
et leurs proches, nous offrant ainsi une série la plus longue de dédicaces impériales¹⁶, mais en même temps la cité n’a pas érigé une seule inscription en latin.
Hiérapytna, elle, a donné à l’île présidents de l’assemblée provinciale (koinon)
ainsi que sénateurs romains¹⁷, étant presque muee en latin.
La considérable décroissance du nombre des documents rédigés en latin
dans le courant des IIᵉ — début IIIᵉ siècles de notre ère montre qu’en Crète,
¹⁰ Rigsby 1976, 329–330.
¹¹ Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 195 signalent que les inscriptions latines en Crète ont presque toujours
ce caractère officiel (édits, dédicaces pour les empereurs, inscriptions provenant d’édifices publics,
textes législatifs, inscriptions honorifiques) ou commercial (inscriptions sur les instrumenta domestica importés, telles que les estampilles des lampes, etc.). D’où la conclusion des deux chercheurs :
la langue latine ne jouait un rôle que dans l’administration romaine de l’île.
¹² Le meilleur exemple est offert évidemment par les documents bilingues, cf. ICret, IV, 289, 327,
329.
¹³ Ducrey 1969, 846–847, nᵒ 3 ; ICret, I.26, 2 et 3 ; I.28, 29.
¹⁴ ICret, I.5, 44 et 45.
¹⁵ ICret, III.3, 62 et 63.
¹⁶ AD XXVI (B2) 1971, 499, nᵒ 1 = Bull. épigr. 1977, 370 ; ICret, I.18, 16–43 et 45–46 ; Chaniotis et
Rethemiotakis 1992, 28–31, nᵒˢ 1–5. Le commentaire dans Pałuchowski 2005, 22–25.
¹⁷ Pałuchowski 1999 ; 2008a, Inventaire, nᵒˢ 98–101 et Liste référencée, s.v. Δωρίων.
   ’  
305
comme ailleurs dans l’Est hellénisé, c’étaient inévitablement les étrangers romains/italiques qui se sont très vite acculturés dans le milieu grec parce que l’inverse, où le milieu grec majoritaire se serait accommodé aux éléments extérieurs
minoritaires, serait difficilement concevable. Observons que l’emploi du latin a
pris, à l’évidence, un tour identique jusque dans la colonie romaine de Cnossos,
de telle manière que même ici les colons de langue latine se sont probablement
mis de bonne heure à communiquer en grec, d’abord avec les indigènes, puis
peut-être entre eux. Mais, enfin, il n’y a là rien que de régulier¹⁸.
Les mots latins transliérés en grec constituent une catégorie à part. Ils font
leur apparition le plus fréquemment dans les inscriptions de la région centrale
de l’île. Pourtant, il faut avouer que l’impact du latin sur ce plan n’est que très
restreint parce qu’il s’agit régulièrement d’un vocabulaire spécialisé et jamais
courant, relatif à quelques apports à proprement parler romains, dans les domaines comme suit : le droit¹⁹, le patronage²⁰, le monnayage²¹, la voirie²² et le
calendrier²³.
Le calendrier romain n’est donc nullement très répandu en Crète sous le
Haut-Empire. Il est d’usage de dater les documents officiels d’une manière traditionnelle d’après les magistratures éponymiques locales, en premier lieu le protocosmat, parfois on emploie aussi à ces fins les consulats romains²⁴.
La latinité a exercé aussi une certaine influence sur la manière de graver les
inscriptions sur la pierre, comme dans le cas d’un décret gortynien situable, en
gros, au tournant des ères et accordant la proxénie et la citoyenneté à un Romain
natif de Ptolémaïs de la Pentapole Libyenne²⁵ : on y distingue neement les signes
¹⁸ Sartre 1991, 78 et 269–270.
¹⁹ ICret, IV, 300B.3 : κωδικίλλοι (codicilli, « codicille »).
²⁰ ICret, I.18, 55.14, 58.6 ; II.2, 1 ; IV, 289, 293.7 : πάτρων (patronus). Le titre de πρόξενος disparaît
des décrets honorifiques à partir des temps de César et il est remplacé par celui de προστάτης
auquel succède enfin celui de πάτρων, ce qui reflète bien la transition au patronage de type romain,
institution, au bout du compte, similaire, reposant sur les mêmes principes d’hospitalité publique.
²¹ ICret, I.5, 23 ; II.11, 3.5+21 ; III.3, 7.13+16 : δινάρια/δηνάρια (denarii, « deniers »), ἀσσάρια (assarii, « as »).
²² ICret, I.5, 19B.9–10+20+26–27 : μείλιον (miliarium, « borne milliaire »).
²³ Davaras 1980, 21–25, nᵒ 23.2 : Εἰδοὶ Ὀκτωβρίαι (Idus Octobres, « ides d’octobre ») ; ICret, I.18,
11.7–8 : Καλάνδαι Μαΐαι (Calendae Maiae, « calendes de mai ») ; II.11, 3.14+17–18+20+24–25
+30–31 : Καλάνδαι Αὐγούσται (Calendae Augustae, « calendes d’août »), Καλάνδαι Ὀκτωβρίαι (Calendae Octobres, « calendes d’octobre ») ; IV, 300B.5–7+9–13 : Καλάνδαι Μαΐαι, Καλάνδαι Σεπτεμβρίαι (Calendae Septembres, « calendes de septembre »), Νώναι Μαρτίαι (Nonae Martiae, « nones de
mars »), Καλάνδαι Ἰανουαρίαι (Calendae Ianuariae, « calendes de janvier »), Καλάνδαι Δεκεμβρίαι
(Calendae Decembres, « calendes de décembre »), Εἰδοὶ Ὀκτωβρίαι, Καλάνδαι Αὐγούσται.
²⁴ Davaras 1980, 21–25, nᵒ 23.2 ; ICret, II.11, 3.14+20+25 ; III.3, 7.19 ; voir également II.5, 35.16–17
où figure le génitif τᾶς εὐαμέρω, au sujet duquel s’exprime Bile 1988, 359 : « L’adjectif substantivé,
à l’acc. fém., ταν ευαμερον d’époque récente (Malla 3 A b 39, Axos 35 l. 17, Hiérapytna 3 B 2
[sc. ICret, I.19, 3Ab.39 ; II.5, 35.17 ; III.3, 3B.2]) signifie “jour de fête”. La formation du mot, qui
semble spécifique à la Crète, me fait songer à une influence latine (jours fastes et néfastes) ».
²⁵ ICret, IV, 215C + Rigsby 1996, 251–252, nᵒ 4.
306
 
de ponctuation (uniquement dans l’editio princeps²⁶) et un signe d’abréviation en
forme de barre horizontale placée au-dessus de l’omicron dans Πτō²⁷.
Il est temps maintenant d’examiner comment les échanges réciproques, entre
la culture locale grecque et celle véhiculée par les étrangers de langue latine, se
sont opérés sur d’autres plans. Pour entrer dans le vif du sujet, commençons par
la colonie de Cnossos qui, a priori, devrait abriter décidément le plus de particularités propres à la romanité.
La colonie romaine de Cnossos
L’analyse des deux principales catégories du matériel disponible — pièces de
monnaie (avec ce qu’on peut déduire de leurs types et exergues) et débris du cadre
bâti — met en évidence un conglomérat hétéroclite de traits grecs et romains où
les premiers sont un élément constitutif à part entière.
Sur les espèces de bronze issues des ateliers de la colonie²⁸, on rencontre,
le plus souvent au revers, beaucoup d’emblèmes cnossiens traditionnels de l’époque de l’indépendance — labyrinthe²⁹, Minotaure³⁰, étoile³¹, cerf (associé à Artémis)³², foudre (aribut de Zeus Krétagénès)³³ — et ceci jusqu’aux dernières
émissions sous le règne de Néron. L’influence de la typologie locale traditionnelle s’avère donc importante puisque sur le total de cinquante et une émissions
²⁶ Savignoni, De Sanctis et Paribeni 1907, 327 sqq., nᵒ 26 (publiée par G. De Sanctis).
²⁷ Au sujet de la coutume romaine de surmonter les leres abréviatives d’une barre horizontale,
voir Cagnat 1914, 405–406.
²⁸ Il est impératif de bien distinguer le monnayage civique en bronze, mis en circulation, sous la
surveillance habituelle des magistrats monétaires locaux (les protocosmes ?), de la fin des années
40 à la fin des années 30 avant notre ère, du monnayage, toujours en bronze, de la colonie romaine,
portant déjà les noms des duumvirs, cf. M. Amandry, dans RPC, I, p. 222–225, 234–239 et Svoronos
1890, 82–95. Ce qui nous intéresse ici, ce ne sont que, il va sans dire, les émissions de la colonie (les
numéros 976–1009 chez RPC, I, 180–217 chez Svoronos 1890).
²⁹ La colonie : sous Auguste, cf. Svoronos 1890, 89–92, nᵒˢ 180–183 (= RPC, I, 976), 185 (= RPC, I,
985), 187, 188–189 (= RPC, I, 977), 196–197 (?) ; sous Caligula, cf. RPC, I, 998 ; sous Néron (selon RPC,
I), cf. Svoronos 1890, 90, nᵒ 186 qui aribue la pièce au règne d’Auguste (= RPC, I, 1009). La cité :
Svoronos 1890, 65–88, nᵒˢ 1–4, 10–74, 96–103, 105–132, 174–179.
³⁰ La colonie : sous Tibère, cf. Svoronos 1890, 92, nᵒ 198 (?). La cité : Svoronos 1890, 65–68, nᵒˢ 1–12,
16–18.
³¹ La colonie : sous Auguste, cf. Svoronos 1890, 92, nᵒ 197 (?) ; sous Néron, cf. Svoronos 1890, 95,
nᵒ 217 (= RPC, I, 1005) et RPC, I, 1006. La cité : Svoronos 1890, 65–82, nᵒˢ 1–3, 5–10, 20–33, 37–40,
42–46, 54–56, 64–66, 104, 112, 114, 117–118, 122–132. L’étoile est apparemment en rapport étroit avec
le labyrinthe (cf. Svoronos 1890, 65–66 et 68–69, nᵒˢ 1–11 et 20–33) et elle ne peut symboliser que le
diadème offert par Dionysos à Ariane, qui est devenu par la suite l’une des constellations célestes.
³² La colonie : sous Auguste (selon RPC, I), cf. Svoronos 1890, 92, nᵒˢ 199–200 qui classe l’espèce
sous le règne de Tibère (= RPC, I, 983), une sorte de pars pro toto parce qu’on ferait référence à la
déesse chasseresse en représentant exclusivement son compagnon habituel — le cerf. Au sujet de
nombreux et beaux cerfs de la région du sanctuaire de Diktynna, l’Artémis crétoise, situé à l’ouest,
voir Svoronos 1890, 122–123. La cité : Svoronos 1890, 75–88, nᵒˢ 75–82, 85, 167–173.
³³ La colonie : sous Tibère, cf. Svoronos 1890, 92, nᵒ 197 (?). La cité : Svoronos 1890, 73–86, nᵒˢ 67–68,
90–95, 104, 138–148, 161–163.
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inventoriées issues des ateliers de Colonia Iulia Nobilis Cnosus quatorze, voire
dix-neuf, reprennent les types élaborés à la période civique.
Le cadre bâti de la colonie de Cnossos, tel qu’il se présente à nos yeux au fur
et à mesure de progrès de l’étude archéologique, semble renforcer l’impression
de l’entrelacement des cultures locale grecque et romaine. La superficie totale du
site à l’époque du Haut-Empire ne différait pas beaucoup de celle de l’époque
précédente et couvrait, en gros, 1 km² (100 ha)³⁴. Il y a des secteurs où aucune
prospection n’a été faite jusqu’à présent, mais les fouilles menées avant tout par
les Britanniques, les descriptions et les croquis laissés par le grand voyageur et
érudit italien de la seconde moitié du XVIᵉ et du début du XVIIᵉ siècles, Onorio Belli, ont de toute façon permis de dresser un état des lieux plus ou moins
satisfaisant.
Le recensement des constructions de type romain à Cnossos comprend, pour
l’essentiel, des bâtiments à usage public. Le centre-ville, au nord-ouest du Palais
de Minos, a été marqué par une imposante basilique romaine qui révèle tous les
éléments canoniques d’une construction de ce genre : la nef centrale avec une abside à son extrémité opposée à l’entrée, deux nefs latérales³⁵. Le monument date,
grosso modo, des Iᵉʳ–IIᵉ siècles ap. J.-C., ou, plus précisément, du règne de Claude
ou de celui de Nerva, pour autant qu’une inscription dédicatoire³⁶ vienne effectivement de son fronton. Puis, à une faible distance de 100 m de la basilique, au
nord-ouest, on a localisé les débris d’un théâtre ou amphithéâtre, une définition
exacte de la nature du bâtiment n’étant pas aujourd’hui possible en raison de son
très mauvais état de conservation³⁷. oi qu’il en soit, à l’appui de la conception
d’un amphithéâtre on avance ordinairement le témoignage d’ICret, I.8, 51.2 où
les ludi ont pu être gladiatorii, comme ceux de Gortyne³⁸, d’autres réjouissances
à la romaine (les venationes ?) étant prises en considération elles aussi. L’arrivée des colons romains/italiques à Cnossos a entraîné également la construction
d’un système complexe d’aqueducs, de citernes et de conduits d’eau³⁹. On n’a
pas identifié d’autres édifices de type romain, mais il y a encore des détails architecturaux, urbanistiques ou ornementaux qui font spontanément songer à la
civilisation des conquérants. Alors, dans le premier groupe il faut classer l’usage
³⁴ Sanders 1982, 152.
³⁵ Sanders 1982, 67–69 ; Hood et Smyth 1981, 42, nᵒ 112. L’état de conservation des décombres est
à nos jours si mauvais que sans les dessins d’O. Belli on n’aurait aucune idée de l’aspect général de
la basilique. Selon Ian F. Sanders le seul plan analogue, tant qu’on se limite à la nef principale, est
celui de la basilique d’Aspendos, en Pamphylie. Certains des éléments architecturaux du porche
sont à retrouver dans la Domus Flavia à Rome.
³⁶ ICret, I.8, 50.
³⁷ Sanders 1982, 152 ; Hood et Smyth 1981, 42, nᵒ 110.
³⁸ ICret, IV, 305, 309 (+ Robert 1940, 119, nᵒ 64), 373–374 ; Sanders 1982, 63–65.
³⁹ Hood et Smyth 1981, 23–24 ; Sacke 1992, 57–58 (L.H. Sacke et J.E. Jones).
308
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généralisé de l’opus caementicium⁴⁰ et un réaménagement d’envergure de la rue
transversale dans le quartier résidentiel d’« unexplored mansion »⁴¹, où les colons ont remplacé, dans le courant du Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C., un espace stabilisé (au
mieux un pavé incomplet) d’époque hellénistique par un revêtement de dalles,
en ajoutant encore les caniveaux pour l’écoulement des eaux usées des maisons
adjacentes et les murs de soutènement en bordure, des deux côtés⁴². En ce qui
regarde les détails ornementaux, nous les trouvons dans la maison sud-ouest du
même quartier, dont les murs ont été peints au rouge pompéien, au dernier quart
du Iᵉʳ siècle av. J.-C.⁴³
Le cadre bâti de la colonie de Cnossos nous offre donc plus d’une empreinte
neement romaine. L’hellénisme paraît tout de même prévaloir sensiblement,
avec cee réserve qu’il se manifeste majoritairement dans des bâtiments à usage
privé, à commencer par ce beau mausolée de l’ordre corinthien, mis au jour en
1978, durant les fouilles d’urgence effectuées par la British School at Athens sur
le chantier de la Faculté de Médecine de l’Université de Crète, environ 1 km au
nord-ouest du village moderne et du quartier d’« unexplored mansion », sur la
pente qui descend du côté est de la route Héraklion — Cnossos. La localisation
du monument s’explique par la présence d’un cimetière, en usage plus ou moins
ininterrompu de l’époque sub-minoenne à l’ère chrétienne. La datation du milieu
du IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C. (peut-être le début du règne d’Antonin le Pieux) est fixée,
principalement, sur la base de l’étude stylistique. L’ornementation indique nettement l’influence de l’architecture de l’Asie Mineure⁴⁴. Le seul édifice à usage
public, de type grec, que l’on puisse identifier à présent à l’intérieur de la colonie,
est probablement un grand portique (stoa)⁴⁵.
A la rencontre d’autres éléments architecturaux et ornementaux propres à
l’univers grec il faut aller dans les quartiers résidentiels de la colonie. Le premier,
inexploré, s’étend sur un plateau, au nord du centre-ville, jusqu’aux limites de la
⁴⁰ Hood et Smyth 1981, l’inventaire circonstancié à la fin de l’ouvrage, passim.
⁴¹ Il est question d’un secteur de la colonie, communément connu sous le nom anglais d’« unexplored mansion », situé au nord-ouest du Palais de Minos, à proximité du Petit Palais, au sud-est
de l’ancien centre-ville, avec la basilique et un amphithéâtre/théâtre, cf. Hood et Smyth 1981, 48 ;
Sanders 1982, 152.
⁴² Sacke 1992, 19, 54 (L.H. Sacke et J.E. Jones) et 466 (L.H. Sacke).
⁴³ Sacke 1992, 23–24 (L.H. Sacke et J.E. Jones).
⁴⁴ Paton 1991, 297 et 317. e les insulaires ont l’habitude de visiter les cités d’Asie Mineure nous
renseignent plus d’un témoignage épigraphique, et justement du IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C., cf. Bean et
Mitford 1965, 41, nᵒ 44 = AE 1967, 522 (Antioche sur le Cragos) ; Şahin 1987, 67, nᵒ 17 = SEG, XXXVII,
965 (Claros) ; Macridy 1912, 46–48, nᵒˢ 2–4, 6 = PHI on-line (Claros) ; Büjükkolancı et Engelmann
1991, 142–143, nᵒ 9 (Ephèse), avec Pałuchowski 2010. Pour le tournant des ères, voir Pałuchowski
2008b.
⁴⁵ Hood et Smyth 1981, 40, nᵒ 86. A cet édifice se rapporte peut-être l’inscription Chaniotis et
Preuss 1990, 201–202, nᵒ 19. Si c’est le cas, on puiserait pour sa construction dans le trésor du
sanctuaire de Rhéa.
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309
colonie⁴⁶. Tout ce que nous connaissons de ce complexe, c’est une mosaïque dite
« d’Apollinaris », du nom de l’artiste, à motifs marins, dont l’exécution se situe au
début du IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C.⁴⁷ Le second riche quartier résidentiel, exploré lui, s’étend à l’ouest du centre-ville, jusqu’au pied de l’acropole⁴⁸. Il nous a fourni deux
chefs-d’œuvre : les fameuses mosaïques de la villa de Dionysos et une autre dite
« mosaïque des quatre saisons ». L’usage de la villa de Dionysos ne va pas au-delà
d’une courte période d’un demi-siècle ou un peu plus, du début du IIᵉ siècle de
notre ère aux années 60 ou 80. C’est une maison méditerranéenne typique à péristyle. Les chapiteaux corinthiens qui couronnaient les deux colonnes de l’entrée
de l’οἶκος offrent un excellent exemple du style du début du IIᵉ siècle de notre
ère, découvert dans la zone côtière de l’Asie Mineure, à Ephèse et à Pergame. La
maison était aachée au culte de Dionysos, comme le prouvent la thématique
des peintures murales et des mosaïques, le dépotoir composé de plusieurs amphores et de lampes avec des scènes érotiques⁴⁹. Des décombres de la villa de
Dionysos, on a retiré la fameuse statue de l’empereur Hadrien en une cuirasse
richement décorée, entre autres, d’un bas-relief représentant Rome personnifiée
et non l’Athéna usuelle. Il s’agit d’un vrai joyau de l’art, selon toute probabilité,
aique⁵⁰. ant à la « mosaïque des quatre saisons » (toujours le même quartier
résidentiel ouest), le thème est bien entendu tout à fait banal, les analogies les
plus poussées étant repérables dans la maison de Iason Magnus à Cyrène et dans
une autre à Ay. Taksiarchis, près d’Argos en Grèce continentale⁵¹. Le troisième,
dernier, quartier résidentiel est celui d’« unexplored mansion », déjà invoqué, au
sud-est de l’ancien centre-ville avec les deux édifices publics importants. Il ne
paraît pas très significatif que la toiture des maisons est et nord a été couverte
de tuiles de type laconien, dans le courant du Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C., peut-être encore
avant 67, date d’un tremblement de terre supposé à Cnossos⁵². En revanche, la
décoration murale des quatre pièces fouillées (I–IV) de la « maison des fresques
aux losanges » (la plus récente s’insère dans la seconde moitié du IIᵉ siècle ap.
J.-C.), qui consiste en peintures imitant le placage de marbre veiné, aux couleurs
contrastées⁵³ et aux motifs géométriques (panneaux, bandes), les motifs floraux
ou animaux, les scènes figuratives n’étant pas aestés, doit airer notre vif intérêt
⁴⁶ Sanders 1982, 152.
⁴⁷ Sanders 1982, 53.
⁴⁸ Sanders 1982, 152.
⁴⁹ Sanders 1982, 69–70 et Michaud 1972, 801.
⁵⁰ Sanders 1982, 48–50 (une belle photographie reproduite à la p. 49, pl. 11).
⁵¹ Sanders 1982, 53.
⁵² Sacke 1992, 35–37 (pour la maison est) et 53 (pour la maison nord) (L.H. Sacke et J.E. Jones).
⁵³ Les marbres imités : le « verde antico » de essalie, le « giallo antico » de Chemtou en Afrique
du Nord et un marbre local, rouge foncé, du Mont Diktè, à l’extrémité est de l’île.
310
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parce qu’aucun style particulier ne lui correspond strictement ni à Pompéi ni à
Herculanum. Il faut chercher ses origines à l’époque hellénistique, au Levant⁵⁴.
Dans l’un des ateliers locaux à Cnossos on a exécuté, au cours du Iᵉʳ siècle de
notre ère, le sarcophage de Polybos, aux parois extérieures abondamment ornées,
la décoration, plutôt de médiocre qualité, étant neement influencée par l’art
aique, très bien représenté dans l’île⁵⁵.
Sur le plan matériel, contrairement à ce que certains aendraient peut-être, la
colonie romaine de Cnossos dégage donc des traits propres, en grande majorité,
à l’hellénisme, surtout dans sa variante asiatique.
L’examen des cultes donne des résultats convergents. Les habitants de la colonie, natifs, pour l’essentiel, d’Italie, vénéraient les dieux grecs, leurs propres pratiques religieuses faisant apparemment figure d’exception. Ainsi, nous y rencontrerons, appartenant à la mythologie grecque, Zeus Sôter⁵⁶, Coré⁵⁷, Asclépios⁵⁸,
ou, probablement, Rhéa⁵⁹, d’un autre côté aucun théonyme romain ou italique,
exclusivement de un à trois augures⁶⁰ et deux ou trois prêtres du culte impérial⁶¹,
aux allures plus orientales qu’occidentales.
Et pour passer dorénavant sur le terrain des cités crétoises — c’est d’autant
moins que l’empreinte marquée par les nouveaux maîtres de l’île sur leur fonctionnement au quotidien, sous tous les aspects, ait pu être profonde.
L’architecture
Les édifices publics
Tout semble indiquer que l’impact des modèles architecturaux en provenance
de l’Asie Mineure a dominé dans les centres de premier plan, encore que « l’étude des monuments romains de la Crète [soit] restée assez sommaire, faute de
documents historiques précis »⁶². La meilleure illustration qui soit de cet état
des choses, ce sont les théâtres et amphithéâtres, aujourd’hui très mal conservés, mais connus assez bien grâce aux descriptions circonstanciées rédigées par
O. Belli (Gortyne avec trois théâtres, un amphithéâtre et un odéon, Hiérapytna
⁵⁴ Sacke 1992, 43–46 (L.H. Sacke et J.E. Jones). Les auteurs signalent par surcroît que des peintures similaires décoraient aussi les murs de la villa de Dionysos.
⁵⁵ Sanders 1982, 47 et ICret, I.11, 2 pour le sarcophage de Polybos. Sanders 1982, 47–48 met en avant
qu’on a inventorié douze sarcophages de l’école aique en Crète, nombre élevé par rapport aux
autres régions : en Asie 16, en Lycie-Pamphylie 10, en Italie et en Sicile 30.
⁵⁶ ICret, I.8, 17.
⁵⁷ ICret, I.8, 21.
⁵⁸ ICret, I.8, 49 et 55A (+ Chaniotis 1986, 193–194, nᵒ 1).
⁵⁹ Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 201–202, nᵒ 19.
⁶⁰ ICret, I.8, 53 (+ Woodward 1936, 95) (?), 55B (+ Chaniotis 1985, 185) (?) ; IV, 295.4.
⁶¹ ICret, I.8, 39 (+ Woodward 1936, 95) (?), 54 ; IV, 295.
⁶² Van Effenterre 1976, 206.
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311
avec deux théâtres, Lyos avec deux théâtres dont l’un à Chersonesos)⁶³. La romanité s’y limite finalement à la mise en œuvre des matériaux de construction et
des techniques inventés par les compatriotes de Vitruve, en premier lieu l’opus
caementicium. Par contre, la partie conceptuelle de ces édifices, leurs plan et ornementation (les scenae frontes), reflète parfaitement les affinités très poussées avec
l’Asie Mineure et Athènes, non avec l’Afrique du Nord ou l’Ouest en général⁶⁴.
On peut identifier encore d’autres exemples de l’affinité de l’architecture crétoise avec celle de l’Asie Mineure, en particulier dans deux monuments à Gortyne
(dont l’un de type romain par excellence) : le prétendu prétoire (en fait, un gymnase, daté des Iᵉʳ siècle av. J.-C. — IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C.⁶⁵) et l’amphithéâtre. Il est
bien question de ce « marble style » le mieux représenté en Asie Mineure, pour
lequel on a établi deux correspondances dans la capitale provinciale : un fragment d’architrave du milieu du IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C. appartenant au « prétoire » et
un fragment de corniche de l’amphithéâtre⁶⁶. Pour les édifices de Gortyne et de
Cnossos, certains vont jusqu’à supposer l’exécution des travaux de finition, sur
le tas, par des tailleurs de pierre engagés en Asie Mineure et invités en Crète⁶⁷.
A Gortyne cee juxtaposition de l’hellénisme et de la romanité s’est imposée
jusque dans l’urbanisme de la cité — tandis que la zone nord-ouest est empreinte
de constructions « canoniques » de la polis grecque, celle qui s’étend au sud-est
accumule des édifices de type purement romain⁶⁸.
De toute évidence, il n’en allait pas autrement (et ceci jusqu’au choix des matériaux de construction) dans le cas des nymphées gortyniens, à mere en parallèle
avec des réalisations similaires de la zone côtière de l’Asie Mineure⁶⁹. Rappelons
aussi que la basilique du centre-ville de la colonie de Cnossos est une construction
romaine par excellence, mais il serait vain de chercher une analogie quelconque
pour le plan de sa nef centrale en Italie ou dans l’Occident romain plus largement
parce que celui-ci fait plutôt songer à la basilique d’Aspendos en Pamphylie⁷⁰.
Néanmoins, les constructeurs du temple de Lébéna ont probablement imité le
plan du Panthéon, le plan des bains publics de Lappa correspondrait peut-être à
celui du temple de Minerva Medica des jardins de Licinius à Rome⁷¹, de même que
⁶³ Sanders 1982, 57–67. Outre les deux théâtres inventoriés par I.F. Sanders (celui assis sur la pente
sud-est de l’acropole et celui à côté du temple de l’Apollon Pythien, au sud-est, dans le secteur du
prétendu praetorium), la capitale en possédait encore un, cf. Di Vita 1986–1987 qui le situe au lieu-dit
Καζινέδες.
⁶⁴ Sanders 1982, 57–67 et 87–88.
⁶⁵ SEG, LI, 1137–1140.
⁶⁶ Sanders 1982, 78, pl. 36 pour l’architrave et 64, pl. 23 pour la corniche.
⁶⁷ Paton 1991, 317. Voir aussi Sanders 1982, 88 qui est enclin à chercher des analogies architecturales et ornementales pour les édifices gortyniens en Ionie, à Ephèse et à Milet.
⁶⁸ Pałuchowski 2010, 107–108.
⁶⁹ Sanders 1982, 75–76 et 88.
⁷⁰ Sanders 1982, 67.
⁷¹ Sanders 1982, 87–88.
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le plan trilobé des bains publics à Kato Asitès semble beaucoup plus répandu en
Italie et en Afrique qu’en Grèce continentale et à l’Est en général⁷². Pour élever
les murs on a employé à Kato Asitès l’opus caementicium, pareillement dans les
thermes de Megali Porta à Gortyne⁷³ et dans ceux d’Arkadès où le noyau des
murs est un agglomérat de galets et de mortier, avec un placage de larges briques
plates⁷⁴. Le site des thermes gortyniens n’a pas été exploré. Tout ce qui subsiste
des bains publics à Arkadès est une salle rectangulaire (7,70 × 3,70 m), avec une
petite niche aménagée dans l’angle intérieur sud-est⁷⁵, trop peu pour se faire une
idée des imitations éventuelles.
Les bâtiments privés
Si l’on veut savoir où les Romains ont vraiment exercé de l’ascendant sur les
Crétois dans l’architecture insulaire, c’est plutôt vers les bâtiments privés qu’il
faut orienter la recherche. Les rapports des explorations archéologiques publiés
par Petros G. emelis⁷⁶ relatent les découvertes effectuées dans la zone orientale
de l’ancienne cité d’Eleutherna, sur une terrasse de la pente est de la colline de
Prinès, au lieu-dit Κατσίβελος, dans le quartier d’une maison romaine, occupé
sans interruption de l’époque archaïque tardive à l’époque chrétienne. On y a mis
au jour une maison romaine, les vestiges de murs d’époques diverses, surtout à
l’est de la maison. Au nord du complexe se trouvent les vestiges de thermes. Dans
le secteur de la maison romaine les archéologues ont identifié un atrium avec
impluvium et, peut-être, aussi un tablinum, au sud. On y a neement distingué
deux phases de construction : la première aux Iᵉʳ–IIᵉ siècles ap. J.-C. et la seconde
aux IIIᵉ–IVᵉ siècles ap. J.-C.
De luxueuses villas « aux allures très romaines » pullulent dans toutes les
régions viticoles où elles constituent le noyau dur d’importants domaines situés
sur la bordure liorale et impliqués dans la viniculture⁷⁷.
L’art
Dans le domaine de l’art l’Asie Mineure marque toujours sa présence en Crète,
mais elle est déjà très concurrencée par l’Aique, phénomène facile à constater
tant dans la sculpture grandeur nature que dans les reliefs en saillie des sarcophages ou encore dans les mosaïques⁷⁸. Ainsi, alors que la coiffure d’une statue
⁷²
⁷³
⁷⁴
⁷⁵
⁷⁶
⁷⁷
⁷⁸
Sanders 1982, 70.
Sanders 1982, 157–158 (10/10) et ICret, IV, Praef., Topogr., IX ermae, 13.
Van Effenterre 1976, 206.
Sanders 1982, 151 (7/25).
KE IV 1991–1993, 247–257 et V 1994–1996, 267–283.
Empereur, Marangou, Papadakis 1992, 644.
Sanders 1982, 56.
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313
de Sérapis du temple des divinités égyptiennes à Gortyne⁷⁹ est de style anatolien
(« Anatolientypus »)⁸⁰, les sarcophages révèlent déjà principalement le style attique⁸¹. En ce qui concerne les arts mineurs, la tendance générale ne dière en
rien : encore dans le courant du Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C. la céramique fine est importée à la colonie de Cnossos essentiellement de Syrie, de Chypre et d’Italie, puis,
au siècle suivant, en plus grande proportion d’Asie Mineure⁸². De toute façon,
il s’agit régulièrement des modèles élaborés à l’intérieur de l’hellénisme. En revanche, la romanité se manifeste, au premier chef, dans l’imitation de la fameuse
excellence du portrait, que l’on a aeinte aux bords de Tibre. Dans les musées
archéologiques de Crète on peut rencontrer plus d’un exemple de telles copies⁸³.
ant aux statues pour lesquelles les modèles sont à chercher en Italie, mentionnons deux types le mieux représentés — la Herculanaise (petite et grande)⁸⁴ et le
type capitolin⁸⁵.
Le génie civil
L’arrivée des Romains coïncide, en gros, avec la multiplication des témoignages ayant trait à la construction et aux réfections de routes, dont la gestion
a été confiée aux fonctionnaires ordinaires et extraordinaires de l’administration
⁷⁹ Sanders 1982, 73–75.
⁸⁰ Sanders 1982, 50.
⁸¹ Sanders 1982, 47–48 : le style aique est représenté par douze pièces, le style asiatique par deux
et le style italien par une (à compter encore quelques exemples du style local).
⁸² Sacke 1992, 466 (L.H. Sacke).
⁸³ 1 — Datsouli-Stavridi 1994–1996 : une tête sculptée d’une femme, qui présente toutes les caractéristiques du portrait romain du milieu de l’époque antonine, coll. N. Metaxa à Héraklion, nᵒ d’inv.
1021 ; 2 — Papadakis 1997–1998 : une tête sculptée de marbre (h. de 42,5 cm), appartenant à une
statue de l’empereur Hadrien (coll. Musée Archéologique de Sitia, nᵒ d’inv. 9003), à classer dans le
type Wegner « Panzer Paludamentumbüste », cf. Wegner 1956, 16–20 et pl. 20 (une « Panzerbüste »
conservée au Musée National à Naples est la référence pour le groupe) ; 3 — série de têtes sculptées d’époque du Haut-Empire, inspirées visiblement par le portrait romain, Musée Archéologique
d’Héraklion, nᵒˢ d’inv. 62, 151, 189, 221, 331, 338, 344, 407, 574 ; 4 — une tête sculptée d’un homme,
trouvée à La Canée, datée du règne d’Hadrien, Musée Archéologique de La Canée, nᵒ d’inv. L 5 ;
5 — une tête sculptée d’un homme, provenance non signalée, datée de la période flavienne, Musée
Archéologique de La Canée, nᵒ d’inv. L 141 ; 6 — une tête sculptée d’Antonin le Pieux, provenant
de Gortyne, Musée Archéologique d’Héraklion, nᵒ d’inv. 73 ; 7 — une tête sculptée de Septime Sévère, Musée Archéologique d’Héraklion, nᵒ d’inv. 6 ; 8 — série de têtes sculptées, représentant les
membres de la famille impériale d’Auguste, trouvées à Gortyne, Musée Archéologique d’Héraklion,
nᵒˢ d’inv. 64, 65, 66, 67 et 507 (3–8 d’après les observations personnelles).
⁸⁴ Au total quatre statues de type de la petite et grande Herculanaise (Herculanensis minor et
maior) : 1 — (Aptéra) ICret, II.3, 45. 2–3 — (Eleutherna) KretChron X.3 1956, 421–422 (N. Platon) ;
AD XXII (B2) 1967, 501 (K. Davaras) ; KE V 1994–1996, 270 (P.G. emelis). 4 — (Gortyne) KretChron
XXV.2 1973, 470 (S. Alexiou).
⁸⁵ Une statue inachevée de marbre, représentant Aphrodite, datée de la période romaine, provenant de Lappa, Musée Archéologique de Réthymnon, nᵒ d’inv. 152 ; une autre statue de marbre,
représentant Faustine l’Aînée, situable donc dans la première moitié du IIᵉ siècle ap. J.-C., exhumée
elle aussi à Lappa, Musée Archéologique de Réthymnon, nᵒ d’inv. 153 (d’après les observations
personnelles).
314
 
impériale⁸⁶. La Crète a donc dû son équipement en réseau routier aux ingénieurs
engagés par l’administration impériale aentive à tout ce qui touchait à l’organisation d’une communication efficace dans l’ensemble des provinces.
C’est probablement aux mêmes ingénieurs romains que les habitants du haut
plateau de Lassithi situé au nord du massif de Lassithiotika (Aigaion Oros/Dikti)
doivent les travaux de drainage, à l’instar de ce qui a été fait à plusieurs endroits
en Ombrie⁸⁷.
Le monnayage
Les monnaies frappées par les poleis, soit au nom de la province tout entière
soit en vertu du droit régalien concédé, sous Auguste, à seules Kydonia et Lappa, regorge de types traditionnels locaux. A leur revers (l’avers, lui, est réservé
évidemment à l’empereur et à ses proches) on distingue facilement les dieux indigènes ou seulement leurs aributs ou encore d’autres motifs propres à la typologie insulaire de l’époque de l’indépendance :
−
−
−
−
−
−
−
le croissant⁸⁸,
Curètes/Corybantes⁸⁹,
Diktynna (l’Artémis crétoise)⁹⁰,
Gortys (le fondateur mythique de la ville de Gortyne)⁹¹,
l’omphalos⁹²,
la Grande Ourse (symbolisée par les sept étoiles)⁹³,
Zeus Krétagénès⁹⁴.
and les représentations des dieux ou des motifs au revers des espèces émises
en Crète sous les Romains ne renouent pas avec la traditionnelle typologie locale,
elles restent confinées, en règle générale, à la sphère de la mythologie grecque :
⁸⁶ ICret, I.5, 19B.9–10+20+26–27 : Arkadès, début de l’époque romaine ; III.3, 25–29 et AD L (B2)
1995, 755–756 : dans la région d’Hiérapytna, sous Claude ; Chaniotis et Preuss 1990, 200–201, nᵒ 17 :
reconstruction d’une voie secondaire à Cnossos, sous Néron ; ICret, II.11, 6 : à l’entrée de la péninsule Rhodopou (anc. Tityros), dans la région de Polyrrhénia, sous Hadrien ; Manganaro 1965,
301–303 = SEG, XXIII, 581 : aux alentours de Sybrita, sous Hadrien.
⁸⁷ Watrous 1982, 24.
⁸⁸ Svoronos 1890, 119, nᵒ 155.
⁸⁹ Svoronos 1890, 123, nᵒ 4 ; 336 et 342–343, nᵒˢ 48 et 52 ; RPC, I, 971A.
⁹⁰ Svoronos 1890, 123, nᵒ 4 ; 215–216, nᵒˢ 30 et 32–34 ; 336–356, nᵒˢ 10–12, 14–15, 41, 44, 47, 51, 55,
63, 71, 77, 98–99, 112, 126, 138 ; RPC, I, 907, 909 et 973.
⁹¹ Svoronos 1890, 348–355, nᵒˢ 84, 93–94, 105, 129.
⁹² Svoronos 1890, 350, nᵒ 100 (l’ὀμφάλιον πεδίον ou la « plaine du nombril », à l’extrémité ouest
de l’île, aux alentours de Kydonia, est lié, dans la tradition mythique locale, à la naissance et à la
toute première enfance de Zeus Krétagénès).
⁹³ Svoronos 1890, 334–336, nᵒˢ 2–8 ; 340–342, nᵒˢ 34–35 et 45 ; 348, nᵒ 85.
⁹⁴ Svoronos 1890, 111–119, nᵒˢ 94–107, 131–140, 143–144, 147–154 ; 124, nᵒ 4 ; 194–195, nᵒˢ 45 et
49–50 ; 284, nᵒ 52 ; 334–352, nᵒˢ 1, 2–4, 6–8, 19, 34–36, 38–40, 42–43, 45–46, 50, 57, 61, 64, 69, 74–76,
81, 85–89, 106, 111–112 ; RPC, I, 908 et 970.
   ’  
−
−
−
−
−
−
−
−
315
Apollon⁹⁵,
Asclépios⁹⁶,
Athéna⁹⁷,
Castor⁹⁸,
Cybèle⁹⁹,
Déméter¹⁰⁰,
Dionysos¹⁰¹,
Tychè¹⁰².
Il est clair qu’à partir du règne d’Hadrien la quantité des types traditionnels
locaux diminuent sensiblement en faveur des types panhellènes. Les émissions
avec des types du revers renvoyant à Rome, sans la moindre allusion symbolique
à la Crète, sont incontestablement minoritaires¹⁰³. On trouvera encore quelques
exemplaires dont les types du revers semblent nouveaux et ne renvoient ni à
Rome ni à la tradition locale :
−
−
−
−
un autel¹⁰⁴,
un coq¹⁰⁵,
un fleuve couché¹⁰⁶,
un temple hexastyle (un temple du culte impérial à Kydonia ?)¹⁰⁷.
L’analyse d’une série d’espèces issues des ateliers de Cnossos (avant la deductio de la colonie) et de Gortyne, au tout début de la domination romaine, fournit
un excellent exemple du syncrétisme gréco-romain, dans sa variante locale, crétoise. Les deux cités se sont résolues à rendre hommage, sur leurs monnaies, ce
parfait instrument de communication, à Q. Caecilius Metellus, au lendemain de
l’écrasement de l’opposition farouche montée par certaines de leurs concurrentes
durant la conquête de l’île en 69–67 av. J.-C. On reconnaît aisément : 1) à Cnossos,
la tête laurée de Zeus Krétagénès au droit, le labyrinthe carré rectiligne et une
⁹⁵ Svoronos 1890, 214–215, nᵒˢ 25, 28, 29 ; 350, nᵒ 100.
⁹⁶ Svoronos 1890, 347–351, nᵒˢ 79, 80, 101–102, 107–108.
⁹⁷ Svoronos 1890, 215–216, nᵒˢ 27 et 35 ; 335, nᵒ 5 ; 350, nᵒ 97.
⁹⁸ Svoronos 1890, 216, nᵒ 36.
⁹⁹ Svoronos 1890, 345–346, nᵒˢ 65 et 73 ; 351, nᵒ 109.
¹⁰⁰ Svoronos 1890, 343, nᵒ 56 ; 354, nᵒ 127.
¹⁰¹ Svoronos 1890, 347, nᵒ 78.
¹⁰² Svoronos 1890, 349–354, nᵒˢ 91, 115–116, 128.
¹⁰³ Svoronos 1890, 41, nᵒ 40 ; 113–115, nᵒˢ 109–116, 129–130 ; 136, nᵒˢ 48–50 ; 181–182, nᵒˢ 192–195 ;
194, nᵒˢ 46–48 ; 214, nᵒ 26 ; 239, nᵒˢ 88–89 ; 284, nᵒ 53 ; 336–349, nᵒˢ 13, 18, 21–29, 31–33, 37, 49, 59–60,
68, 70, 81–83, 92 ; RPC, I, 962 (?), 967, 1026 et 1037–1038.
¹⁰⁴ Svoronos 1890, 344, nᵒ 62 ; 353–355, nᵒˢ 117–122 et 133–134.
¹⁰⁵ Svoronos 1890, 355, nᵒ 132.
¹⁰⁶ Svoronos 1890, 343–345, nᵒˢ 58, 66–67, 72 ; 349–351, nᵒˢ 90 et 103.
¹⁰⁷ Svoronos 1890, 113–118, nᵒˢ 108, 117–118, 120–128, 141–142, 145–146.
316
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tête d’éléphant au revers¹⁰⁸ ; 2) à Gortyne, au droit, la tête casquée de Rome, le
casque étant ailé et orné d’une tête d’éléphant, qui figure aussi au revers de la
même série, à côté de l’effigie de l’Artémis d’Ephèse et du motif d’abeille¹⁰⁹. On
considère la tête d’éléphant comme emblème de la famille Caecilii Metelli¹¹⁰. Le
côté propagande des deux types monétaires, cnossien et gortynien, leur message
politique à l’aention des Romains, dès lors maîtres de l’île, n’appellent donc
aucun commentaire développé : pour exprimer leurs sympathies politiques (bien
calculées ?) les deux cités ont intégré à l’envi un nouveau symbole entièrement
étranger à la traditionnelle typologie de leurs monnayages civiques¹¹¹.
Cee fusion de ce qui est crétois, d’une part, et romain, de l’autre, réussie
très tôt, pointe également au revers des espèces appartenant à une émission dite
provinciale où l’effigie de l’empereur Auguste réunit toutes les apparences sous
lesquelles on représentait normalement Zeus Krétagénès trônant¹¹². D’un autre
côté, les émissions où Rome n’apparaît qu’en toile de fond ont été, de toute évidence, très rares parce qu’on n’est à même d’en alléguer qu’un exemple isolé, avec
des types tant de l’avers que du revers qui puisent exclusivement dans la tradition
locale, la seule référence à l’Empire se réduisant à l’exergue du revers ΕΥΘΗΝΙΑ
ΣΕΒΑΣΤΗ, traduction liérale grecque d’ABUNDANTIA AUGUSTA¹¹³.
Le culte
Les sources épigraphiques montrent, sans la moindre équivoque, que la religion pratiquée en Crète sous le Haut-Empire reste, tout naturellement et sans
aucune surprise, grecque, non seulement dans les grandes lignes, mais aussi dans
les détails. En fin de compte, une nouveauté principale, ce n’est que le culte impérial¹¹⁴ qui, pour autant, comme d’habitude chez les Grecs, suit de près la tradition
des cultes accordés aux monarques hellénistiques.
Les schémas organisationnels
Enfin, l’influence de Rome est à chercher ailleurs, pas tellement au niveau de
la culture matérielle, des pratiques religieuses d’autant moins, mais plutôt dans
¹⁰⁸ Svoronos 1890, 88, nᵒ 179. Le labyrinthe, sous plusieurs aspects particuliers, renvoyant au mythe
de Minotaure bien entendu, est l’emblème de la cité de Cnossos, cf. Svoronos 1890, 65–88, nᵒˢ 1, etc.
¹⁰⁹ Svoronos 1890, 181, nᵒˢ 190–191 (= RPC, I, 901–903) et RPC, I, 904–906. L’abeille est un motif local
très ancien, renvoyant probablement à l’enfance de Zeus Krétagénès, nourri par divers animaux, y
compris les abeilles, cf. Svoronos 1890, 16–19, nᵒˢ 12, 25, 33–35 ; 141–142, nᵒˢ 1–6 ; 197–198, nᵒˢ 1–6 ;
223, nᵒˢ 7–10 ; 290, nᵒˢ 36–37 (le recensement n’est aucunement exhausti).
¹¹⁰ ICret, IV, Praef., 26–27 et 38.
¹¹¹ M. Amandry, dans RPC, I, p. 216–217.
¹¹² Svoronos 1890, 334–335, nᵒˢ 2–3 et 6–7. Pour le modèle de l’époque de l’indépendance, cf. Svoronos 1890, 67, nᵒˢ 13 et 15 ; 249–250, nᵒˢ 1 et 6 ; 288–289, nᵒˢ 21–28.
¹¹³ Svoronos 1890, 121–122, nᵒˢ 1–3.
¹¹⁴ Pałuchowski 2011.
   ’  
317
les schémas organisationnels, transplantés effectivement de la capitale impériale
ou, en général, d’Italie¹¹⁵. A cet égard, tant le formulaire d’un décret hiérapytnien (promulgué en 125 ap. J.-C.) afférent à l’instauration d’une association privée, dotée d’un règlement interne circonstancié, que la procédure d’entérinement
elle-même, dans le conseil civique¹¹⁶, partageraient peut-être certaines particularités avec la manière de légiférer dans le Sénat romain¹¹⁷. Puis, toujours dans le
domaine du transfert des modalités de fonctionnement des institutions et magistratures, il y a eu cee nouveauté qui consistait à ce que les bouleutes étaient
contraints à payer une taxe d’entrée (summa honoraria), au moment de leur nomination¹¹⁸. L’apparition progressive du clientélisme à la romaine s’inscrit parfaitement dans les mêmes tendances¹¹⁹. Au contraire, il paraît que le règlement
des bains publics à Arkadès¹²⁰, instaurant la séparation des sexes, ne peut pas imiter les dispositions analogues prises par l’empereur Hadrien à Rome¹²¹ puisqu’il
serait antérieur d’un siècle à peu près. L’impact de Rome (ou de l’Italie dans un
contexte plus large) est singulièrement visible dans l’essor de la viniculture¹²², de
même que dans la manière d’exploiter les terres cultivables (les complexes ruraux : terroir — villa — pressoir — atelier), comme c’est le cas dans la très fertile
plaine de la Messara¹²³ ou aux alentours d’Hiérapytna, mais aussi dans la périphérie de Kisamos, à Chersonesos (débouché sur la mer de Lyos) et dans bon
nombre d’autres secteurs vinières¹²⁴, nos connaissances à ce sujet étant pourtant
toujours très incomplètes, en l’absence de prospections aériennes systématiques
qui couvrent l’ensemble des régions.
Ceux qui ont apporté, en majeure partie, ces innovations, étaient certainement
les citoyens romains originaires d’Italie et installés en Crète de bonne heure, surtout dans sa région centrale avec la capitale provinciale et la colonie de Cnossos.
Il faut distinguer parmi eux deux groupes¹²⁵ : d’une part les négociants romains
résidant à Gortyne et organisés en un conventus de la province¹²⁶, de l’autre les
exploitants agricoles plus ou moins aisés¹²⁷. La grande série des décrets de proxénie et de citoyenneté de Gortyne, déjà alléguée, témoigne elle aussi d’une forte
¹¹⁵ A ce sujet, dans l’ensemble des provinces romaines orientales, voir Sartre 1991, 502.
¹¹⁶ ICret, III.3, 7 et Pałuchowski 2006, 98–108.
¹¹⁷ Gschnitzer 1994, 287–293.
¹¹⁸ ICret, IV, 278. Là-dessus s’exprime toujours Sartre 1991, 140.
¹¹⁹ ICret, I.18, 55.14, 58 ; II.2, 1 ; IV, 289 et 293.7 : le titre de πάτρων/patronus.
¹²⁰ Ducrey et Van Effenterre 1973, 283 = Van Effenterre 1976, 205 = SEG, XXVI, 1043.
¹²¹ La suggestion de Sanders 1982, 15.
¹²² Marangou-Lerat 1995.
¹²³ Sanders 1976, 135–137.
¹²⁴ Empereur, Marangou, Papadakis 1992, 643–648 (surtout 643–644).
¹²⁵ Sanders 1976, 136, n. 18.
¹²⁶ ICret, IV, 278, 290, 291. Voir également Hatzfeld 1919, 157. Pour ce qui concerne le conventus,
voir Pałuchowski 2010.
¹²⁷ ICret, IV, 215C (+ Rigsby 1996, 251–252, nᵒ 4), 220.
318
 
présence romaine. Nous ne sommes aucunement en mesure de chiffrer la minorité romaine établie en Crète encore vers le milieu du Iᵉʳ siècle av. J.-C., mais
une évaluation approximative paraît autorisée grâce à un témoignage précieux
de César qui dit expressément que Pompée a levé en 49/48 av. J.-C. une légion
entière en Crète et en Macédoine, dans les rangs des vétérans (licenciés dans
l’île par Q. Caecilius Metellus au début des années 60 ?)¹²⁸. Étant donné que l’effectif d’une légion à l’époque de la décadence de la République tourne autour de
4.800 hommes (mais les troupes formées au même moment par César ne comptent
qu’un peu plus de 2.000 hommes par légion¹²⁹), la fraction crétoise indéfinie de
la légion de Pompée en question devrait représenter un nombre important. Les
vétérans romains installés en Crète exploitaient, à n’en pas douter, leurs parcelles,
récompense habituelle des ex-légionnaires.
L’exercice du pouvoir
Nous avons affaire à l’un des facteurs majeurs de la romanisation des élites
locales chaque fois que leurs représentants sont intégrés à la gestion de l’Empire,
mais aussi, dans une certaine mesure, aux pouvoirs locaux qui nécessitaient des
contacts fréquents avec l’administration romaine. Il va de soi qu’un Crétois qui
reste en dehors du système du pouvoir, peu importe à quelle échelle, entre en
relations avec les Romains plus rarement que son compatriote engagé. La participation au pouvoir favorisait, en règle générale, les échanges réciproques dans
un cadre d’une classe de notables, composée d’éléments autochtones et étrangers.
La Crète a eu ses premiers représentants dans la curie romaine assez tôt, dans la
seconde moitié du Iᵉʳ siècle ap. J.-C.¹³⁰ Une autre illustration du phénomène de
l’apparition de cee classe de notables, cohérente au niveau de l’ensemble des
provinces grâce à l’assimilation de certains aspects de la romanité, est fournie
par une dédicace gortynienne que l’on vient d’invoquer¹³¹. Le droit d’entrée habituel versé par un bouleute, apparemment d’origine indigène¹³², a été destiné
à l’érection d’une statue pour l’empereur au nom des citoyens romains résidant
dans la capitale de la province (de toute évidence, ils sont partis d’Italie), avec un
aval implicite de la boulè gortynienne. Toutes les catégories sociales de l’Empire,
les élites en premier lieu, se trouvaient dans l’obligation de témoigner du respect
au prince, ce qui a considérablement contribué à l’instauration d’une sorte de
communauté d’intérêt à l’intérieur de celles-ci. Dans la dédicace gortynienne en
question nous avons donc, d’un côté, un groupe de notables indigènes et étrangers
¹²⁸
¹²⁹
¹³⁰
¹³¹
¹³²
Caes., BC, 3.4.
Caes., BC, 3.3.
Pałuchowski 2008a, Inventaire, nᵒ 318 et Liste référencée, s.v. Τηλερώ.
ICret, IV, 278 (sous Septime Sévère).
Pałuchowski 2008a, Liste référencée, s.v. Δωρίων, nᵒ 6 (T. Flavius Titianus).
   ’  
319
à l’île, réunis par leur intérêt commun, de l’autre, l’empereur à qui s’adresse l’action collective des notables. Ce dernier, en reconnaissance du respect que l’on lui
témoigne, sera assurément bien disposé à récompenser tout le groupe. Une autre
dédicace de Gortyne¹³³ prouve que les rapports d’amitié entre les Romains et les
Crétois, sans doute très importants pour la romanisation de l’île, se nouaient également sur fond de similitudes de fonctions (trois agoranomes rendent hommage
au frère de l’empereur Septime Sévère, questeur du gouverneur).
Conclusion : le brassage culturel
Tout compte fait, il serait quelque peu réducteur de parler de la romanisation
de l’île de Crète sous le Haut-Empire. On pencherait plutôt pour le terme de brassage culturel dans lequel les traditions et tendances diverses se croisaient, avec la
prédominance quand même d’éléments grecs, et ceci, quoi qu’on dise, jusque dans
Gortyne, capitale provinciale, et Cnossos, colonie romaine. Un excellent exemple
de la coexistence de courants dissemblables, ce sont deux inscriptions de Gortyne
et de Lyos, l’une et l’autre datées de la même période (fin IIᵉ — début IIIᵉ siècles
ap. J.-C.)¹³⁴. La première, portant sur les venationes et les ludi gladiatorii organisés
à Gortyne, est un texte qu’on pourrait prendre facilement, à quelques détails près,
pour une traduction fidèle d’une dédicace latine gravée à Rome¹³⁵. Par contre, la
seconde donne l’impression d’un retour aux temps définitivement révolus, car
on y trouve, à part le style spécifique, tout un appareil d’éléments sortis du passé
lointain : deux festivités locales séculaires, un protocosme, les startoi, les phylai.
Néanmoins, dans cee voix s’élevant du tréfonds des temps, apparemment pure,
on entend une légère dissonance — l’une des festivités se déroule aux calendes
du mois de mai (Μαΐαις Καλάνδαις, ll. 7–8). Ce processus d’entrelacement des
cultures, traditions, courants peut se déclencher à l’école, comme c’est le cas d’un
archiprêtre de l’assemblée provinciale qui a été condisciple (συμφοιτητής) d’un
questeur¹³⁶.
Soulignons que la romanisation n’entraîne pas, en principe, de bouleversements importants là où elle s’opère. Elle est plutôt dans la continuité, dans la
droite ligne des tendances précédentes, en ne les modifiant pas en profondeur.
A titre d’excellent exemple, il est bon de rapprocher le Σεβαστεῖον hypothétique
d’Eleutherna¹³⁷. Nous y voilà, devant la continuité du type d’occupation de l’espace urbain. Il est notable que le culte impérial (si culte impérial il y a eu), organisé
¹³³ ICret, IV, 302.
¹³⁴ ICret, IV, 305 et I.18, 11.
¹³⁵ Selon Rouanet-Liesenfelt 1994, 23 si l’on a décidé de bâtir à Gortyne un amphithéâtre, cela veut
dire que les combats de fauves et de gladiateurs y airaient suffisamment de public. Sanders 1982,
87 met en relief le nombre relativement important d’amphithéâtres en Crète.
¹³⁶ ICret, IV, 306A.10 (IIᵉ/IIIᵉ siècles ap. J.-C.).
¹³⁷ KE IV 1991–1993, 247–257 et V 1994–1996, 267–283 (P.G. emelis).
320
 
au niveau municipal, se serait implanté sur l’emplacement d’un édifice à caractère cultuel (un temple ou un sanctuaire ?) d’époque hellénistique, une basilique
paléochrétienne prolongeant toujours cee tradition sacrée du site.
L’enjeu principal de la romanisation, c’était exactement l’harmonisation des
provinces dans l’esprit de la bonne gestion qui est devenue ainsi son ultime raison
d’être, sa finalité. A travers la romanisation s’opérerait un processus beaucoup
plus vaste qu’on pourrait appeler « l’impérialisation », c’est-à-dire un processus
d’assimilation, de convergence des pans disparates de l’Empire, dans ce nombre
la Crète, sans qu’un rouleau compresseur, assimilable à celui de notre époque
contemporaine qui se veut pourtant tellement respectueuse de la diversité culturelle, soit passé dessus quelque part.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE FLAVIAN DYNASTY AND THE CITIES
OF THE PELOPONNESE (69–96)
M P
T
here is scarce evidence of the involvement of emperors from the Flavian dynasty in the affairs of the cities on the Peloponnese. Literary
sources contain mostly references to Vespasian’s most famous intervention in Greece. Epigraphy offers somewhat more evidence, indicating that Peloponnesian cities concerned the Flavians to a greater extent than we would be able
to tell only on the basis of literary texts.
e beginning of Vespasian’s rule was not very good for Greece, including
Peloponnesian cities. During his visit to Greece in 70 or 72, the emperor decided
to reestablish the province of Achaea and to place it in the Senate’s hands.¹ us,
Achaea’s autonomy granted by Nero was repealed.² It should be remembered that
Achaea was not an isolated case and Vespasian also repealed the autonomy of Lycia, Byzantium and Samos. As for the emperor’s reasons to do so, financial concerns are usually cited. However, the revenue from Achaea, which had not raised
from the economic ruin sustained during the civil wars in the 1ˢᵗ century BC,
must have been very modest, particularly since the two biggest and, one would
suspect, richest, Achaean cities, i.e. Sparta and Athens, kept their autonomous
status and their citizens did not pay tribute. e sources, though, contain rather
ambiguous references to rebellions and unrest which had supposedly taken place
in Achaean cities just before Vespasian took the decision in question.³ Possibly,
then, it was the Greeks themselves that gave the emperor the opportunity and
excuse to claim famously that e Greek people had forgoen how to be free.⁴ is
opinion, if indeed expressed, hardly befits the Greeks, who fought one another
eagerly during periods of complete autonomy. Vespasian probably dissolved the
Panachaean koinon, a league of several regional koina which had existed at least
from the times of Tiberius. e retaliatory nature of Vespasian’s decision is also
¹ Vespasian and Domitian visited Greece but we do not know whether Titus also did: Halfmann
1986, 178 and 180.
² Suet., Vesp., 8.4. Bosworth 1973, 60–61; Braund 1984, 187.
³ Suet., Vesp., 8; Philostr., VA, 5.41; Paus., 7.17.4. On Vespasian’s stay in Greece see also: Ioseph.,
BI, 7.21–22.
⁴ Paus., 7.17.4.
323
324
 
indicated by the fact that Corinth was deprived of the right to mint its own coins.
According to Philostratus, Apollonius of Tyana did not hide his displeasure with
the emperor’s decision. He refused to meet him and accused him of depriving
the Greeks of their freedom.⁵ us, the beginning of Vespasian’s rule may have
been received with reservation in Achaea. is is indirectly confirmed by the
fact that so far we have only one private dedication to a ruler from the Flavian
dynasty from Peloponnesian cities, namely a partly surviving inscription from
Argos, dedicated to Titus by an unidentifiable person.⁶
We know that during his reign Vespasian intervened in a conflict between
Sparta and Messene. anks to an inscription dated to 78 we have information
on the Peloponnesian activity of the emperor’s freedmen, T. Flavius Monomitus,
referred to as orometres.⁷ Monomitus most likely marked out the borders of
Messene. Possibly, this regarded the ancient dispute between Sparta and Messene
about the ager Dentheliatis. We do not, however, have a clear idea of what exactly
Monomitus did. In practice, the idea may have been to mark out the border once
and for all, so that neither side could raise the maer again, or the issue may
have concerned another change of ownership of the ager Dentheliatis, which had
belonged to Messene from the beginning of Tiberius’s reign.⁸
e earthquake that struck the Peloponnese in 77 made the Flavians become
involved in the reconstruction of the destroyed or damaged town buildings. Vespasian should be credited with the restoration of the damaged theater in Sparta.⁹
He also probably provided financial assistance towards rebuilding several buildings in Corinth. e inscription referring to Vespasian’s deeds contains the new
name of the city, Col(onia) Iul(ila) Flav(ia) Aug(usta) Corinthiensis, which indicates that the colony was established again.¹⁰ Vespesian’s euergetic activity in
Corinth is documented in several other, sometimes fragmentary, inscriptions and
coins from both Corinth and Patras.¹¹ An inscription in two languages dedicated
probably to Domitian, who restored a portic destroyed by fire at his own expense,
comes from Megalopolis.¹²
Anthroponymy sheds an interesting light on the Flavians’ aitude to residents
of Peloponnesian cities. Out of the imperial nomina confirmed in the Pelopon⁵ Philostr., VA, 5.41.
⁶ IG, IV, 584. Höjte 2005, 350, no. 43.
⁷ IG, V.1, 1431, inscription dated to 78, based on the consulate of D. Iunius Priscus.
⁸ Tiberius’s decision: Tac., Ann., 4.43.3. See: Doukellis and Zoumbaki 1995, 222; Pawlak 2010, passim.
⁹ IG, V.1, 791 = SEG, XI, 848; Cartledge and Spawforth 1989, 129.
¹⁰ Corinth, VIII.3, 82; Romano 2003, 279–301.
¹¹ Corinth, VIII.3, 82–86. numismatic evidence: RPC, II, 113, 115–119, 127–131, 133–134, 145–146,
148–152, 161–163, 174–177, 182–199, 204–206.
¹² CIL, III, 13691; IG, V.2, 457; the emperor’s name was removed from the Greek text; based on
the titulature the inscription is dated to 93–94; Alcock 1993, 181 suggests that the dedications in
Arcadian cities were to emperors who visited Greece.
     
325
nese, the nomen Flavius occurs as many as 64 times. Compared to Iulii (214) and
Claudii (271) this is not an impressive number, but if we consider people with
the nomen Aelius (58) it shows that the process of granting Roman citizenship
to representatives of local elites, initiated by Augustus, was continued during
the Flavians’ times.¹³ e most numerous group of people with the nomen Flavii
inhabited Elis (30), Messenia (14) and Corinthia (10), which is understandable due
to the Flavians’ role in the renewed deductio coloniae. In the other regions of the
Peloponnese, the Flavii representation was smaller (Achaea 1; Arcadia 1, Argolida 2, Laconia 6). Remembering such factors as the intensity of archaeological
research and the randomness of finds, we should avoid drawing too general conclusions based on this fact. What could be interesting is an individual analysis
of particular Flavii from the Peloponnese, especially since in the case of some
people we can follow several generations of one family.
During the Republic, very few Greeks living in the east were granted citizenship. In the first decades of the empire, granting citizenship did not become
common, but the growing number of imperial nomina occurring in inscriptions
indicates a certain change in the policy of successive emperors as well as closer relations between the Greeks and the Romans. An increasing number of the
former was ready to make efforts to obtain civitas and emphasise their status
in this way, while emperors met those requests more or less willingly. At least
for some powerful families from Peloponnesian cities Roman citizenship, apart
from bringing tangible benefits, was another way to highlight their power and
prestige.¹⁴
As has been said before, the largest known number of people with the nomen
Flavius was from Elis. is is possibly the result of a specific nature of the epigraphic material. e vast majority of the Flavii appeared on lists of cult personnel from the 2ⁿᵈ and 3ʳᵈ centuries. e nature of such lists usually makes it
impossible to provide much information on the included persons. Most oen,
their function is listed, sometimes also their patronymic, which severely limits,
not to say excludes, the possibility of a deeper analysis. ere is no additional
data which would enable us to conduct e.g. prosopographical research. In the
context of our analysis, the case of a man known from the list of alytae is interesting. Among the other names, we find Τ(ίτος) Φλάουιος Πρ[οξενί]δα υἱός
Π[ροξνίδας].¹⁵ What draws aention is the Roman method of recording the name
and the inclusion of filiation. Possibly, we are dealing with one of the first people
who was granted citizenship by the Flavians. T. Flavius Archelaus, the helladarch
of the Achaean koinon, also had the nomen Flavius. According to S. Zoumbaki,
¹³ Based on: Rizakis and Zoumbaki 2001; Rizakis et al. 2004. Only people with duo or tria nomina
are taken into consideration.
¹⁴ Sherwin-White 1973, 310–313.
¹⁵ AE 1905, 253–258; Rizakis and Zoumbaki 2001, 487 (EL 212); Zoumbaki 2001, Φ 49.
326
 
he was the most prominent figure in Elis in the 3ʳᵈ century. He was a theocolos
several times and alytarches once before he began his activity in the Achaean
koinon.¹⁶ We know lile of his origins. His father was called Archelaos.
e number of people with the nomen Flavius was small in Laconia. We know
of six Flavians from Sparta.¹⁷ One of the first ones was Φλ(άβιος) Ἀγησί[λαος - -], known from an inscription listing persons who paid for erecting a building for
deified kings and Lacedaemon.¹⁸ e remaining listed persons were Iulius Agesilaus and T. Flavius Charixenus. eir activity is well-known thanks to epigraphy.
We know that they were athlotetes of the games in honour of Nerva, organised
for the first time aer 97. Charixenus also played some, or perhaps the same, role
in the Leonidea games.¹⁹ He was also an eponymic patronomon and the winner
of a contest for the title of best citizen (aristopoliteia).²⁰ Interestingly, his nomen,
Flavius, was wrien in two ways: Φλαβιός and Φλαούιος, which may indicate a
lack of experience of the workers who made the inscription in spelling the Roman
name. His role in arranging the games to honour Nerva and the fact that he and
Flavius Agesialus sponsored the building of uncertain purpose but dedicated to
the deified Sebastoi and Lacedaemon show an aachment to Spartan traditions on
the one hand, and a willingness to manifest loyalty towards Rome on the other.
is was likely connected with the fact that they were granted citizenship by
one of the rulers from the Flavian dynasty.²¹ We cannot say much about the next
Flavian we know of in Sparta; Flavius Lacon performed the function of boagos
during Hadrian’s reign.²²
ere is scarce evidence concerning people with the nomen Flavius from Arcadia and Argolida. As for the former, we do not have knowledge of anyone with
the nomen Flavius in the 1ˢᵗ century, and in the 2ⁿᵈ century we can only make an
assumption about one man that he was indeed from Arcadia. e man in question was the ephebe Flavius Herokleidas, listed in an inscription from Tegea of
166, otherwise unknown. It is difficult to say whether his family was from Tegea
or another region.²³ ere is also no certainty as to where T. Flavius Philargyrus
¹⁶ IvO, 483. Rizakis and Zoumbaki 2001, 481–482 (EL 192); Zoumbaki 2001, 386–388 (Φ 32).
¹⁷ In her work on the imperial gentilicia in Laconia and Messenia, Hoët-van-Cauwenberghe mentioned eight Flavii in Laconia. However, she did not quote any sources, so it is difficult to say what
she based this number on (Hoët-van-Cauwenberghe 1996, 140).
¹⁸ IG, V.1, 378b.
¹⁹ Games in Nerva’s honour: IG, V.1, 667; Leonidean games: 18A (= SEG, XI, 458 and 460).
²⁰ A description of his career: Rizakis et al. 2004, 228–230 (LAC 361).
²¹ Cartledge and Spawforth 1989, 106.
²² IG, V.1, 286; Woodward 1929, 319, no 43 = SEG, XI, 711a. See Rizakis et al. 2004, 230–231 (LAC 363).
We also know of T. Flavius Dionysius from a list of hieromnemones from the 3ʳᵈ century; the nomen
indicates that his ancestors had been granted citizenship during the Flavian reign, but we know
nothing about them: IG, V.1, 603 (= SEG, XI, 816) + 168 (= SEG, XI, 625). Spawforth 1984, 285–288;
Rizakis et al. 2004, 230 (LAC 362).
²³ IG, V.2, 50.
     
327
(confirmed as logistes in 192/193) came from.²⁴ Logistes was the equivalent of curator rei publicae and most likely he was not a citizen of the city where he performed
his duties until the times of Severus Alexander’s reign.²⁵ We do not know where
T. Flavius Philargyrus could have come from. In light of a well-known anecdote
about the citizens of Tegea recorded by Suetonius in Vespasian’s biography, it
should not be surprising that the only Flavius from Arcadia that we know of
came from Tegea. According to Suetonius, with help from soothsayers, an effigy
greatly resembling Vespasian was dug out in a consecrated place.²⁶
e situation in Argolida is similar — we know of two people with the nomen
Flavius. Hyrnathii, one of the phyla of Argos, honoured Tib. Claudius Tertius
Flavianus, son of Flavius Tertius, as its protector.²⁷ We know lile about Flavius
Tertius himself, but the fact that the dedication to his son is dated to 116–117
strongly suggests that he received citizenship during the times of the Flavians,
most likely as the first member of the family.²⁸ His son, Tib. Claudius Tertius
Flavianus, was probably adopted by a man called Tib. Claudius.²⁹ We know that
he was an archon, as well as an agonothetes of Sebasteia and Nemeia and he was
engaged in generous euergetic activity in his home town. e presence of another
Flavius in Argos is confirmed only as late as the turn of the 2ⁿᵈ and 3ʳᵈ century.
He was one of the hellanodiki, called C. Flavius Alexandros, of whom we cannot
say anything more.³⁰ We also know of one person from Achaea with the nomen
Flavius. e information about this man comes from a stamp placed on a piece
of roofing tile from Patras. e onomastic formula is very interesting. T. Flavius
Caecilus Crispinus had two nomina, which may indicate relations with the Caecili
family. He owned a workshop which produced roofing tiles.³¹
Compared to the regions discussed above, Messenia is a special case, not only due to the number of Flavii from this area that we know of, but also due
to the sometimes very precise information about them that we have available.
Detailed prosopographical research carried out by D. Baldassarra clearly shows
ways in which Messene elites obtained their Roman citizenship.³² e case of
the Flavii Kleopha(n)toi, who we know of from a rich epigraphical dossier, is
a meaningful example. e first member of this family to appear in the sources,
Kleopha(n)tos, son of Aristeus, was the high priest of Nero and the goddess Roma
²⁴ IG, V.2, 346.
²⁵ Sartori 1989, 5–21; Jacques 1984.
²⁶ Suet., Vesp., 7.7. Cf. Hoët-van-Cauwenberghe 1996a, 212.
²⁷ IG, IV, 602; inscription dated on the basis of imperial titulature.
²⁸ Rizakis and Zoumbaki 2001, 192 (ARG 129).
²⁹ Salomies 1992, 20–22; Rizakis and Zoumbaki 2001, 177–178 (ARG 89).
³⁰ Charneux 1956, 604–610, no 6 = SEG, XVI, 253.
³¹ Rizakis 1998, 292, no 343 a+b provides a general date during the empire times; Rizakis and
Zoumbaki 2001, 75 (ACH 108).
³² Baldassarra 2008; 2010.
328
 
in Messene, and in 54/55 he sponsored the construction of the emperor’s statue
on behalf of the city.³³ e dedication of this statue includes the information that
Kleopha(n)tos was a council secretary and agoranomos, which means that he performed functions which were not only important but also required considerable
financial outlays. His activity was not limited to Messene alone. e prestige he
earned in his home town and his probably extensive financial means meant that
he became head of the legation sent to Nero on Greece’s behalf. D. Baldassarra
even suspects that Kleopha(n)tos, son of Aristeus, could have been related to another priest of the imperial cult and council secretary, Διομεὺς Ἀρισ[- - -], who
made arrangements to honour the new ruler, Tiberius, in 14.³⁴ is is an appealing hypothesis but it is based only on the possible similarity of the patronymics
of both men, which can hardly be considered sufficient proof. What is certain
is that his activity earned Kleopha(n)tos the nickname philokaisar. e nomen
of his ancestors indicates that the family did not receive citizenship from Nero.
From the inscription found near the stadium in Messene, paleographically dated
to the 1ˢᵗ or 2ⁿᵈ century, we know of T. Flavius Kleopha(n)tus, “descended from
Heracles”, probably a son of the already mentioned priest of Nero and the goddess
Roma.³⁵ erefore, the family owed its Roman citizenship to one of the emperors
from the Flavian dynasty. Referring to Flavius Kleopha(n)tus as a descendant of
Heracles was meant to stress the Messenian origin of the family. It probably was
not a coincidence that members of the local elite, who had become Romans from
the legal point of view, tried to emphasise their origins. It could have been a
gesture towards the other residents of the city, showing that a change of legal
status did not change their ethnicity.
We do not know in what circumstances the Flavii with the cognomen Polybioi,
from Messene, became Romans. We know of at least three people belonging to
this family in the 2ⁿᵈ and early 3ʳᵈ centuries, but we have no knowledge of its
members with the status of peregrini. Inscriptions dedicated by Messene and the
Achaean koinon to T. Flavius Polybius date back to the years of Hadrian’s reign.³⁶
T. Flavius Polybius was an agoranomos, agonothetes of Antinoeia and strategos of
the koinon, so he belonged to the Peloponnesian elites that decided to operate
outside their region. e family’s cognomen Polybius does not necessarily mean
that they were distant descendants of the historian Polybius. According to D. Baldassarra, the fact that the Olympia dedication to T. Flavius Polybius included an
epigram identical to the one dedicated to Polybius the historian in ancient times
³³ IG, V.1, 1449.
³⁴ Baldassarra 2008, 121–122.
³⁵ Baldassarra 2008, 135–136, no. 3.
³⁶ IvO, 449 (Messene) and 450 (the Achaean koinon). Both dedications were accompanied by an
epigram identical to the one dedicated to the historian in Hellenistic period.
     
329
may have resulted from the desire to emphasise the family’s ancient origins.³⁷ It
could also have been a case of trying to ingratiate oneself to a local dignitary who
was famous for his euergetic activity. We know of two other persons with the cognomen Polybius. One of them, T. Flavius Polybius, died at the age of twenty-one
and, significantly, was buried in a monumental mausoleum erected near the Arcadian Gate, the traditional burial place of the most outstanding Messenians.³⁸ We
also know of one more man by the identical name as the two mentioned above.
T. Flavius Polybius was a priest of the goddess Roma, honoured by the residents
of Messene with the title of aristos polites. He was the addressee of several dedications, the most intriguing of which was the one wrien by the Achaean koinon
in Olympia. e text includes a reference to “common maers”, but we do not
know if he performed a function in the koinon. If he had, the text would probably
have mentioned it. It seems significant that the last Flavius Polybius known to us
so far was a citizen of Messene and Sparta.³⁹
Among the Flavii from Messene, we also know of a family whose members
were closely connected to local cults and to a large extent were quite the opposite
of the Flavii Kleopha(n)toi. ey were Zeuxidamos and T. Flavius Zeuxidamos
— Messenian priests of Zeus Ithomatas (eponymic function in Messene), known
from inscriptions. Information about them comes from two inscriptions dated to
the last years of the 1ˢᵗ century.⁴⁰ We do not know whether we are dealing with
two (possibly related) people or one man. In the laer case, Zeus’s priest, Zeuxidamos, became a Roman citizen while performing his duties, which was reflected
in the second inscription. e chronological proximity of the inscriptions and the
identical functions indicate that they were one man. We know nothing more of
Zeuxidamos, and the nature of the inscriptions in which the name appears (a list
of officials organising celebrations in Zeus’s honour and a list of ephebes) did not
allow for any additional information to be included with the names. On the basis
of the current knowledge, it should be concluded that Zeuxidamos became a citizen without having made any spectacular gestures of loyalty towards Rome. From
lists of officials involved in organising celebrations in Zeus Ithomatas’s honour
we also know of T. Flavius Epocles, who was an agonothetes at the turn of the 1ˢᵗ
and 2ⁿᵈ century.⁴¹ Brothers Titi Flavii, Demarchides and Aianus were founders
of the inscription in honour of Zeus Soter in the late 1ˢᵗ century.⁴² What is noticeable is the involvement of a considerable number of the Flavii from Messene
³⁷
³⁸
³⁹
⁴⁰
⁴¹
⁴²
Baldassarra 2008, 128–129.
emelis 1997, 82 = SEG, XLVII, 414; Baldassarra 2008, 137–138, no. 5.
IvO, 487; Baldassarra 2008, 130–131.
IG, V.1, 1467. Baldassarra 2010, 126.
emelis 1990, 99 = SEG, XLI, 338. Rizakis et al. 2004, 534 (MES 193); Baldassarra 2010, 126–127.
IG, V.1, 1440. Rizakis et al. 2004, 533–534 (MES 190).
330
 
that we know of in the city’s religious life.⁴³ is phenomenon was not limited
to Messene alone, but also occurred in Asine, from where we know of Flavius
Alcimus, a priest of Apollo Korynthos.⁴⁴ We know of Flavius Saethidas, from the
same city, who lived during the reign of Septimius Severus. He was a logistes,
and his cognomen indicates a connection to the Saethidae family from Messene.
Most likely, a member of the family seled in Asine. e family that remained in
Messene was granted citizenship by one of the emperors from the Julio-Claudian
dynasty and adopted the nomen Claudius, while the Asine branch of the family received the same status later, during the Flavian rule.⁴⁵ Flavius Saethidas of
Messene was connected to the imperial cult, but we do not know if the same could
be said about his ancestors.⁴⁶
In the period which is of interest to us (1ˢᵗ–3ʳᵈ century), we also know of a
group of ten people with the nomen Flavius from Corinth. It includes, among
others, a rich freedmen of Domitian, T. Flavius Aug. lib. Antio[chus]. He was
one of the Lares of the imperial cult, which erected a building in Corinth in the
first decades of the 2ⁿᵈ century.⁴⁷ e funeral inscription for Q. Flavius Philippus, founded by the city’s decurions, dates back to the 2ⁿᵈ century.⁴⁸ During Antonins’s times, a statue of his wife, Faustina, was erected in Corinth by the decree
of the town council. e people responsible for the construction of the statue were
the duumviri L. Antonius Iulianus and T. Flavius Pompeianus.⁴⁹ e last example
shows that a man who owed his citizenship to the Flavians had entered the city’s
very elite in the 2ⁿᵈ century.
e Flavians’ interest in Peloponnesian cities, which was a marginal region
from the point of view of the imperial administration, was considerable. e imperial euergetism was, to a large extent, caused by the results of an earthquake
which struck in 77. e fact that a relatively large group of people from the Peloponnese had the nomen Flavius is also significant. We know of 221 people of the
same name from Athens, but this is not the best reference point due to the special
importance of this city.⁵⁰ We know of 143 Flavii from Macedonia, within a wider
timeframe (until the 4ᵗʰ–5ᵗʰ century)⁵¹. e case of Messene is peculiar, not only
because of the number of people with the nomen Flavius that we know of, but also
⁴³ Baldassarra 2010, 125–129.
⁴⁴ Valmin 1928/1929, 146–147, no. 19 = SEG, XI, 995. Rizakis et al. 2004, 533 (MES 188); Baldassarra
2010, 128–129.
⁴⁵ IG, V.1, 1412 = SEG, XI, 998. Rizakis et al. 2004, 535 (MES 198); Bladassarra 2007, 42; 2010, 129.
⁴⁶ Similarly, we can say lile about another man from Messene with the nomen Flavius, whom a
funeral inscription described as “a new Plato”: SEG, LXIII, 1.404.
⁴⁷ Corinth, VIII.3, 62 and commentary Kent ad loc. (AE 1964, 167).
⁴⁸ CIL, III, 538; on decurions of the colony in Corinth see Stansbury 1990, 157–158.
⁴⁹ Corinth, VIII.3, 107. Rizakis et al 2001, 317 (COR 272).
⁵⁰ Byrne 2003.
⁵¹ Tataki 2006.
     
331
because of the type of activity that could have brought them citizenship. Apart
from the people who accepted all sorts of functions which were available once a
Roman province was set up in Greece, the new cives also included men who acted
locally and only within the sphere of traditional cults. Apparently the laer type
of activity was sufficient for the emperor to grant them citizenship.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
THE CHARACTER AND SCOPE OF CN. POMPEIUS’S
POWER DURING THE THIRD CONSULATE
IN YEAR 52 BC
N R
T
he interregnum lengthening in the first months of 52 and several failed
aempts to appease the crisis which had been making the Romans’ life
a misery for about two years¹ induced the politicians of that time to undertake one more initiative that would lead to bringing the anarchy expanding
in the Republic’s capital under control.² erefore, basing on the M. Calpurnius
Bibulus’s motion, supported by M. Porcius Cato, the senate decided to entrust
Cn. Pompeius with the post of consul without colleague.³ As a result, on the 24ᵗʰ
day of the intercalary month, Pompeius was elected for this post.⁴
is unusual solution evoked great emotions and the especially controversial
and disputable issues were the character and the scope of power granted to Pompeius. e aim of the author of the present article is to elaborate and clarify these
questions.
e basis for pondering over these problems is of course the information provided by ancient authors. However, in the texts contemporary with the Pompeius’s third consulate there is lile data concerning the power he was entrusted
with at that time. In his correspondence, M. Tullius Cicero, an eyewitness and par-
¹ It started by aacks of optimates aimed at the triumvirs and their closest coworkers in the
early 54 (Cic., Fam., 5.8.1; Q.fr., 2.12.2–3; 3.1.5 and 7), and fully developed in the following months,
especially during the competition over the consulate for the next year (Cic., Q.fr., 2.14.4; 2.15.4;
2.16.2–3; 3.1.5 and 7; A., 4.15.4 and 7–9; Plut., Caes., 28, 3–4; Cat. Min., 44; App., BC, 2.19; Cass. Dio,
40.45; Gruen 1969, 311–329; Kowalski 1983/1984, 87; 1987/1988, 9, 14–15; 1988, 123). e dates in the
article refer to the times before Christ.
² e disturbances related to this (Vell. Pat., 2.47.3; Suet., Iul., 26.1; Plut., Caes., 28.4; Pomp., 54.3;
Cat. Min., 47.1–2; App., BC, 2.20.72–22.83; Cass. Dio, 40.46.3; 40.48.1–50.1; Łoposzko 1954, 114–120;
1980, 105–130; Will 1991, 93–103) are considered the crowning of the mentioned crisis.
³ Ascon., In Mil., p. 35–36 (Clark); Plut., Caes., 28.5; Pomp., 54.4–5; Cat. Min., 47.2–3; App., BC,
2.23.84; Cass. Dio, 40.50.4–5. See also: Suet., Iul., 26.1; Stein 1930, 52; Connant 1953, 150; Fehrle 1983,
209; Burckhardt 1988, 156–157; Bonnefond-Coudry 1989, 211, 241, 527–531; Hofmann-Löbl 1996, 190.
⁴ Ascon., In Mil., p. 36 (Clark). Cf. also: Liv., Per., CVII; Vell. Pat., 2.47.3; Tac., Ann., 3.28; Plut.,
Pomp., 54.5; Cat. Min., 48.1; App., BC, 2.23.84; Sol. Bob., p. 112 (Stangl); Neuendorff 1913, 70; Linderski 1966, 151; Yakobson 1999, 58; cf. Ooteghem 1954, 443–444; Leach 1978, 157; Greenhalgh 1981,
80.
333
334
 
ticipant of the events of 52, barely mentioned the strong influences the powerful
politician had in Rome at that time,⁵ whereas in the speech for T. Annius Milo’s
defence he did make several general remarks concerning entrusting Pompeius
with the mission of watching over the Republic.⁶ ere is significantly more data
about the topic of interest in more recent sources. More thorough and precise information regarding the area of research can be found for instance in Asconius’s,
the highly-regarded scholiast, commentaries to the already mentioned speech of
Cicero.⁷ From among other authors who referred to the Roman events of 52 in
their diverse works, Appian was the only one to pay aention to the maers
related to the problem of the present article.⁸ e others focused mainly on the
activity of the senate linked with the granting of the consulate without colleague
to Pompeius, and especially on the senators who were the initiators of this move
as well as on Pompeius’s being chosen for this post.⁹ erefore, they emphasized
the circumstances and motives which triggered the Roman politicians to perform
this initiative and only referred to our maer of interest indirectly.
is problem has never been subject to separate research, yet, this does not
mean that contemporary historians do not notice or comment on it. However,
usually the suggestions concerning it are restricted to very general, though precise theses. Most oen such researchers as eg. M. Gelzer, H. Kowalski, N. Rogosz,
K. Bringmann, C. Cambria, L. Amela Valverde, E. Baltrusch, R. Syme state that
Pompeius was granted the 3) post of consul sine collega without delving deeper into the scope of power he possessed by virtue of this office at that time.¹⁰
Some scholars, eg. L. Piotrowicz, J. Linderski and N. Rogosz (in one of the recent
works) indicate that thanks to this, Pompeius had significantly bigger powers
than the politicians holding this office with colleague.¹¹ K. Christ describes Pompeius’s competences as very big and they are perceived as even more expanded
by S.L. Utczenko.¹² E. Meyer, L. Ross Taylor, M. Jaczynowska and A. Ziółkowski
compare the contemporary entitlements of the 4) mighty politician to the ones
held by Roman dictators¹³ and T. Łoposzko even associates them with the rule of
⁵ Cic., Fam., 5.18.2; 7.2.2.
⁶ Cic., Mil., 23.61; 24.65; 26.70.
⁷ Ascon., In Mil., p. 33–36 (Clark). ere are also minor mentions on this subject in the commentaries of Bobio (Sol. Bob., p. 112 Stangl).
⁸ App., BC, 2.23.84–85.
⁹ Cf. Liv., Per., CVII; Vell. Pat., 2.47.3; Tac., Ann., 3.28; Suet., Iul., 26.1; Plut., Caes., 28.5; Pomp.,
54.4–5; Cat. Min., 47.2–3; 48.1; Cass. Dio, 40.50.4–5.
¹⁰ Gelzer 1949, 186–187; Kowalski 1983/1984, 89; 2010, 142; Rogosz 1985, 1; Bringmann 2002, 339;
Cambria 2002, 347; Amela Valverde 2003, 221; Baltrusch 2004, 86; Syme 2009, 40.
¹¹ Piotrowicz 1934, 426; Linderski 1966, 152; Rogosz 2010, 213.
¹² Christ 2004, 132; Utczenko 1973, 74. Cf. also Seager 1979, 144; Southern 2004, 148.
¹³ Meyer 1922, 229–230; Ross Taylor 1949, 149; Jaczynowska 1995, 154; Jaczynowska and Pawlak
2008, 143; Ziółkowski 2004, 350.
     . ’ 
335
an individual, besides dictature.¹⁴ A.E.R. Boak and K.M. Girardet seem a lile bit
more thorough in expressing their opinion on the character and scope of power
granted to Pompeius in 52. ey underline various legal and political aspects of
his position on the Roman political arena.¹⁵
In their sources, the ancient authors referring to the character and the scope
of Pompeius’s power in the year 52 particularly emphasized the fact of his holding the consulate without colleague.¹⁶ Some of them also mentioned the tasks
he had been assigned before, as well as the might he achieved thanks to them.¹⁷
Nevertheless, writing about Pompeius being granted the consulate, they usually
concentrated on the circumstances of this event and the features which proved
the unique character of this rank, also pointing out that it was the third time
that Pompeius held this office.¹⁸ ey unanimously emphasized that Pompeius
was the only one appointed for this post in 52¹⁹ and some of them noticed that
he did not wish to hold the office by himself. erefore, his was allowed to pick
a partner, yet, not sooner than aer two months of working,²⁰ which was also
a phenomenon. e author of the periochae of Livy even suggested that Pompeius was appointed consul while being absent and stated that such an honour,
meaning the granting of this post to just one person, had not happened before.²¹
is was put similarly by Cassius Dio²² and Velleius Paterculus underlined the
fact that Pompeius was chosen for this post by his former political opponents,
and namely the optimate oriented aristocrats, who constituted the majority in
the senate. He also highlighted that Pompeius’s accepting this office was a proof
of his reconciliation with them.²³ Svetonius noticed that while deciding to grant
the consulate only to one person the senators appointed Pompeius by name. e
biographer also claimed that he had been chosen due to the very difficult situation in the Republic,²⁴ which was emphasized by Plutarch, Appian and Cassius
Dio even more robustly.²⁵
¹⁴ Łoposzko 1954, 20; 1982, 134; 1987, 310; 1994, 266.
¹⁵ Boak 1918, 20–21; Girardet 1992, 187–188; 2001, 196–200.
¹⁶ See in this context sources quoted in n. 9.
¹⁷ Cf. in this light Cic., Fam., 5.18.2; 7.2.2; A., 8.3.3; Mil., 23.61; 24.65; 26.70; Ascon., In Mil., p. 34
(Clark); Tac., Ann., 3.28; App., BC, 2.23.85; Cass. Dio, 40.49.5; 40.50.1.
¹⁸ Cic., A., 7.1.4; 8.3.3; Phil., 1.18; Liv., Per., CVII; Vell. Pat., 2.47.3; Tac., Ann., 3.28; Sol. Bob.,
p. 112 (Stangl); Cass. Dio, 40.50.2.
¹⁹ Liv., Per., CVII; Vell. Pat., 2.47.3; Ascon., In Mil., p. 35–36 (Clark); Suet., Iul., 26.1; Plut., Caes.,
28.5; Pomp., 54.4; Cat. Min., 47.3; App., BC, 2.23.84; Sol. Bob., p. 112 (Stangl); Cass. Dio, 40.50.5.
²⁰ Plut., Pomp., 54.5. See also Cass. Dio, 40.51.1; Bringmann 2002, 339.
²¹ Liv., Per., CVII.
²² Cass. Dio, 40.50.5.
²³ Vell. Pat., 2.47.3.
²⁴ Suet., Iul., 26.1.
²⁵ Plut., Caes., 28.4–5; Pomp., 54.3–5; Cat. Min., 47.2–3; App., BC, 2.23.84–85; Cass. Dio, 40.50.1–5.
336
 
As it can be noticed, from among the ancient authors writing about appointing Pompeius for the office of consul without colleague, except from Appian, as
it has already been highlighted during the characterisation of sources,²⁶ no one
aempted to determine the character and the scope of power resulting from it.
e contemporary historians acted similarly.²⁷ We can imagine why the ancient
chroniclers did not show any interest in these issues: for them, especially the
native Romans and Greeks inhabiting the empire, these were obvious maers.
For us they are not, therefore they are worth explaining.
Along with assuming the consulate, Pompeius was not granted any special
rights, since there is no information confirming this in source materials. However,
this does not mean that his power had the same dimension as the one of his
predecessors on this post. ey held this office jointly, in pair, which resulted in
significant restrictions of the power. Appealing with any initiative, every consul
had to take into account his partner’s opinion and stand, who had the possibility
to oppose it.²⁸ If this was the case, the consul was obliged to give it up. It was
absolutely crucial to gain his colleague’s approval for his actions, or at least assure
his neutrality in order to take any steps.²⁹ As Pompeius held the post by himself
in 52, these restrictions resulting from the joint character of the office did not
concern him.
In this context we need to emphasize the stand of L. Piotrowicz, who suggested that due to entrusting Pompeius only with the consulate, “the restriction
that the second consul would oppose his initiatives was out of the question and,
therefore, the high power lied with him”.³⁰ e author of the present article in
one of his works also paid aention to the fact that he did not have to share it
with a partner.³¹
However, in 52 the restrictions resulting from the criminal responsibility for
the activities taken up while holding the office did apply to Pompeius, since the
consuls were not absolved of it.³² From among the ancient authors, this maer
was only highlighted by Appian, as he clearly wrote that Pompeius, as a con-
²⁶ See the author’s remarks related to this issue on p. 351–334 of the present article.
²⁷ Cf. the works of the researchers quoted in n. 10 and: Rice Holmes 1923, II, 168; Burr Marsh 1971,
217; Gruen 1974, 153; CAH ², IX, 410 (T.P. Wiseman).
²⁸ e power of consuls was equal and mutually independent. is resulted from its joint authority
which was also a form of its decentralisation. It could only be limited by the veto of one of the
consuls in relations to the orders of the other one. Cf. Korpanty 1971, 10.
²⁹ is resulted from the fact that, in spite of the scope of their power in mutual relations being
identical (see n. 27), an opposition of one against the orders of the other had an advantage. e
intersession was namely the biggest restriction: Korpanty 1971, 10.
³⁰ Piotrowicz 1934, 426.
³¹ Rogosz 2010, 213.
³² is restriction was a norm towards all common officials elected every year. Although they
were the highest-ranking officials, consuls also had to be subject to this law.
     . ’ 
337
sul, could be brought to justice. is was put similarly by R. Seager.³³ ough,
this is only the theoretical side of this maer, as the practical one presents itself
differently.
It is a well-known fact that the Roman officials could be brought to court and
sentenced for the offences commied during holding the office only aer giving
in, which means, when they stopped being public persons.³⁴ Due to Pompeius’s
serving the office, he could only be brought to justice aer 31 December 52.³⁵
Yet, in case of commiing any offence, suing him was out of question even aer
that date, as he had the control over Hispania Citerior and Hispania Ulterior, the
function he was entrusted with for five years in 55 basing on lex Trebonia.³⁶ By
this virtue he had the status of a public person guaranteed at least until 50. Moreover, during serving the discussed third consulate, his governing of both Hispanic
provinces was extended for further four or five years.³⁷ In practice, this prevented
the procedure of bringing him to justice for the potential offences commied in 52
and provided him with big comfort and freedom of action while performing the
mission he was entrusted with: restoring order in Rome, which made his power
similar to dictator’s entitlements in this aspect.³⁸
ere was yet another restriction that applied to Pompeius. e consulate was
namely served until the term expired, just like other offices, and this took place
on the 31ˢᵗ December, as it has already been mentioned. On that day in year 52,
also Pompeius had to give in the office, however in his case it is essential that
we look differently on the time restrictions, because he took the post as consul
by himself at the beginning of year 52. e maer of interest is how long he
could serve this office independently. In this maer neither tradition, nor law
determined any rules, since there had been no such situation in Rome before.³⁹
As a response to Pompeius’s objections as to serving the office on his own, it was
merely decided that once he finds it appropriate, he could chose a partner, but
not sooner than aer two months.⁴⁰ As it can be assumed, by this decision it was
³³ App., BC, 2.23.84; Seager 1979, 144. See also Greenhalgh 1981, 80; Southern 2004, 148.
³⁴ is could be only done when they again became private capacity, not representing the Roman
people anymore.
³⁵ is was the day when the consuls traditionally finished their term, therefore Pompeius also
had to give in his office.
³⁶ Liv., Per., CV; Vell. Pat., 2.46.2; Plut., Cras., 15.5; Pomp., 52.3; Cat. Min., 43.1–4; App., BC, 2.18.65;
Cass. Dio, 39.34.1–36.2. About this law: Niccolini 1934, 309; Rotondi 1962, 408. Wider elaboration
on its decisions and the circumstances of its carrying out: Rogosz 2004, 299–302. Cf. also Boak 1918,
20–21; Girardet 1992, 185–186; 2001, 193–196.
³⁷ According to Plutarch (Pomp., 55.7) for four years, while according to Cassius Dio (40.56.2) for
five years. Appian (BC, 2.24.92) mentions only prolonging his governing, but does not state the
exact time. About this issue see also: Boak 1918, 21; Girardet 1992, 187; 2001, 199–200.
³⁸ is unusual official did not have to take into consideration the need to be brought to trial for
his actions during serving the office.
³⁹ See in this context Liv., Per., CVII; Cass. Dio, 40.50.5.
⁴⁰ Plut., Pomp., 54.5; Cass. Dio, 40.51.1.
338
 
made clear that choosing the colleague could only follow Pompeius’s successful
handling the task that he was entrusted with: restoring the order and security in
the capital. In practice, this also meant leing him pick the moment of choosing
his colleague for the office and from which he was supposed to finish serving the
office jointly, as it was traditionally required.⁴¹ It results thereof that he could keep
the power he was entrusted with as long as he found it appropriate and resign
whenever he wanted to. is clearly indicates that the rights given to Pompeius
in 52 while granting him with the post of consulate without colleague, where
significantly bigger than the ones of his predecessors also in this respect.⁴²
Being a consul, Pompeius theoretically had to take into consideration also
other restrictions of his powers, and namely the veto of the tribunes of the people,
which is highlighted e.g. by R. Seager.⁴³ However, in spite of appearances, this is
not that obvious. It is a well-known fact that from the murder of P. Clodius in
Rome there was state of emergency, during which some laws, which had been
valid before, were suspended. What is more, due to this fact, Pompeius, together
with the interrex and the tribunes of the people, was assigned the task to watch
the safety of the country and granted all the extraordinary powers needed for
that.⁴⁴ Should he have feared the veto of one of the tribunes, especially if they
were granted the same task and had to cooperate with Pompeius? Moreover, in
case of any threat that someone would veto, he could count on the cooperation
of the others, who might not let that happen. As we all know, their collegium
was divided, some tribunes were supporting various influential politicians and
even declared themselves for the opposing political options.⁴⁵ Yet, it cannot be
ruled out that while forcing through initiatives which they might have considered
controversial, Pompeius had to use ones against the other ones or even reach
agreements with them.⁴⁶
⁴¹ is is the meaning of Plutarch’s text (Pomp., 54.5) where data about this fact can be found.
⁴² All Roman officials, including the extraordinary ones, that is the dictators, had no possibility
to decide about the time of their holding the power. Until 52 the only exception was L. Cornelius
Sulla, whose rights, not only in this area, were much broader from the other dictators’. erefore,
he could decide by himself when to give in the office, similarly to Pompeius who could decide
about finishing serving the consulate by himself as well.
⁴³ Seager 1979, 144. His point of view in this maer is underlined by Southern 2004, 148.
⁴⁴ Cic., Mil., 24.65; 26.70; Ascon., p. 34 (Clark); Cass. Dio, 40.49.5. Cf. also Meyer 1922, 215; Rice
Holmes 1923, II, 167; Stein 1930, 51; CAH ², IX, 409 (T.P. Wiseman); Amela Valverde 2003, 221; Christ
2004, 128; Syme 2009, 39.
⁴⁵ e political orientations of the tribunes of the people of 52. See Niccolini 1934, 316–321; Vanderbroeck 1987, 204–207, 211, 213, 263–266; ommen 1989, 158, 178, 214, 232, 240, 267.
⁴⁶ e carrying out of lex tribunicia de Caesare absente consule creando can serve as an example.
It allowed Caesar to aempt for the second consulate during his absence in Rome, because this
initiative of the tribunes of the people took place inter alia as a result of Pompeius’s efforts aimed
at inducing them to a joint presentation of an appropriate suitable legislative project: Rogosz 1985,
4–9.
     . ’ 
339
It results from the current arrangements related to the rights Pompeius had
while serving the office of consul without colleague that they were significantly
bigger than those of the consuls who held this office jointly. He did not need to
take into consideration his partner’s opposition, the responsibility of overstepping the boundaries of law or the veto of the tribunes of the people. He could
set the duration of the office he was entrusted with by himself, of course within
the year 52. erefore, it can be stated that as consul sine collega Pompeius had
extraordinary power.⁴⁷
In 52 the power of Pompeius did not result only from his holding this post. It
needs to be acknowledged that due to the already mentioned state of emergency
in Rome and Pompeius being entrusted with the task to watch over the Republic’s
security along with introducing it, he was entitled, even before starting to serve
the office of consul, to take any actions required for the weal of the state.⁴⁸ As a
result, all of his moves, even the harshest ones, were justified. It was also at that
time or a lile later that the senate ordered Pompeius to conduct the levy in all
Italia, or, in other words, to organize armed forces essential to restoring order
and security in Rome.⁴⁹ us, the army was at his disposal and he could use it
however it was required for the interest of the country, and, practically, in any
way that he considered appropriate. is was yet another reason why Pompeius’s
power during his serving the third consulate had an unusual character and scope.
Discussing the Roman events of 52, Appian’s referring to Pompeius as the
autocrat in the city was not accidental.⁵⁰ His power is similarly perceived by
contemporary scholars. For instance, J. Linderski described it as “the highest… in
the city”⁵¹ and S.L. Utczenko, as well as R. Seager, as limitless.⁵² Nevertheless, the
author of this article maintains that it was smaller than the power of a dictator.⁵³
⁴⁷ In these aspects, Pompeius’s entitlements were similar to the ones of dictators, although, not
completely.
⁴⁸ See in this context the author’s deliberation on p. 338 and the sources and literature quoted
there in n. 44. Pompeius had already had these rights almost two months before he started serving
the office. Some scholars (e.g. Meyer 1922, 222, n. 3; Linderski 1966, 151), count that 58 days passed
from introducing the state of emergency in Rome, which followed the murder of Clodius on th
18ᵗʰ January 52, to appointing Pompeius for the office of consul. According to Neuendorff (1913, 70)
it was only 36 days.
⁴⁹ According to Asconius (p. 34 Clark) this took place along with introducing the state of emergency in the capital. Casius Dio (40.50.1) states that this happened a lile later. Cf. also Cic., Mil.,
23.61; 26.70; Meyer 1922, 215; Ooteghem 1954, 440; Gruen 1974, 152; Leach 1978,156; Seager 1979,
143; Greenhalgh 1981, 75; CAH ², IX, 409 (T.P. Wiseman); Christ 2004, 128.
⁵⁰ App., BC, 2.23.85.
⁵¹ Linderski 1966, 152.
⁵² Utczenko 1973, 74; Seager 1979, 144. See also Southern 2004, 148.
⁵³ Two factors decided about that. In practice, Pompeius did not have to take into account the possibility of being brought to justice, but in case of changing the current political line-up, favourable
for him, the opponents, of which there were many, could have aempted to question his status as
public person and, as it would follow, bring him to court. What is more, sometimes Pompeius had
340
 
However, some scholars compare Pompeius’s power to dictatorship, possibly
under the influence of Appian’s suggestion, since he perceived it as the dictator’s
kind of power.⁵⁴ T. Łoposzko consistently states that “appointing Pompeius the
consul without colleague meant at the same time consent of nobilitas to introduce
(in Rome — N.R.) actual dictatorship and the rule of an individual”.⁵⁵ E. Meyer suggests that Pompeius “durch den Wegfall des Kollegialität war wie beim Dictator
und beim König…”,⁵⁶ L. Ross Taylor states that Pompeius as “a consul solus was
in effect a dictator”⁵⁷ and M. Jaczynowska in her work Dzieje Imperium Romanum
published in 1995 endorses the thesis that by taking the office of consul without
colleague in 52 Pompeius adopted a “position similar to dictator” in the Republic.
In her work Ancient Rome, printed in 2009, she affirmed that Pompeius “did in fact
exercise dictatorial power”.⁵⁸ A. Ziółkowski went the furthest, suggesting that in
52 Pompeius held “dictatorial power nearly to Sullan extend”.⁵⁹
ese opinions are contrary to the information provided by ancient authors
who unanimously claim that the senate tried to avoid introducing dictatorship to
Rome at any cost.⁶⁰ e post of consul without colleague, which had no equivalent in the Roman tradition and was at variance with the republican legal-political
solutions,⁶¹ was only offered to Pompeius in order to prevent him from imposing
dictatorship by force.⁶² Bearing this in mind, the suggestions of the quoted researchers should be treated as an aempt to compare the power held by Pompeius
in 52 with the one usually exercised by dictators. In this way, these historians
meant to show how much vaster it was than the power of previous consuls and
indicate how strong the position that Pompeius was offered that year was in the
Republic.
As it has already been mentioned, in 52 Pompeius was also a governor of
the Hispanic provinces. e army stationed in these provinces came under his
authority, he also had their reserves at his disposal, particularly the financial
to make agreements with the tribunes of the people (About this see the comment in footnote 46
and the literature quoted there). As a dictator he would have been free from these restrictions of
power.
⁵⁴ App., BC, 2.23.84.
⁵⁵ Łoposzko 1954, 120; 1982, 134; 1987, 310; 1994, 266.
⁵⁶ Meyer, 1922, 230.
⁵⁷ Ross Taylor 1949, 149.
⁵⁸ Jaczynowska 1995, 154; Jaczynowska and Pawlak 2008, 143.
⁵⁹ Ziółkowski 2004, 350.
⁶⁰ Plut., Caes., 28.5; Pomp., 54.3–4; Cat. Min., 47.2–3; App., BC, 2.20.72–73; 2.23.84–85; Cass. Dio,
40.50.3–4.
⁶¹ is results unambiguously from the remarks of some of the ancient authors: Liv., Per., CVII;
Plut., Caes., 28.5; App., BC, 2.23.84–85; Cass. Dio, 40.50.5. It is also emphasized by Ross Taylor, 1949,
149; Gruen 1974, 154; Leach 1978, 157; Amela Valverde 2003, 222.
⁶² Plut., Caes., 28.5; Pomp., 54.3; Cat. Min., 47.2; App., BC, 2.23.84; Cass. Dio, 40.50.3–5.
     . ’ 
341
ones.⁶³ As well as this, he possessed the rights resulting from cura annonae, the
mission to supply Rome with food, which he was entrusted with in 57.⁶⁴ In case
of need, he could use them for his political purposes, especially to turn the public
feeling in the capital in the desired direction.⁶⁵
In this context, the mention by J. Linderski is particularly important, as he
paid aention to the fact that “joining the highest power in the city with the
governing of the Hispanic provinces, especially that it was exercised by delegating the entitlements, meant an important novum for the history of the Roman
system, and for contemporary historiography it was one of the foundations of
the dissertations on Pompeius’s principate”.⁶⁶
As it can be observed, the assessments of the power held by Pompeius during
his third consulate are different. In many cases they are based neither on source
information nor on reliable research. For many historians consulate was the principal basis for the appraisal of the character and the scope of his power at that
time. e tasks he was entrusted with before taking the office and entitlements
resulting from them were only taken into consideration by few researchers. As a
result, many of their assessments are partial and oen based on purely theoretical deliberations, unconnected with the political reality. erefore, some of these
appraisals, or at least some of their aspects, diverge from the reality of that time,
in addition, they are also general and not precise. is, however, results from the
fact that the office held by Pompeius in 52 was indeed a precedent. It was, namely,
the first time that only one person was granted this post in Rome. Moreover, it
was at variance with law and political tradition. All this caused that the aempts
to compare Pompeius’s power with the entitlements of other officials could have
limited effects, especially, since they were based on skimpy source information.
us, it is not surprising that the researchers are unanimous only about the fact
that Pompeius holding the office without colleague had much bigger power than
his predecessors who held it jointly. Nevertheless, it is extremely hard to determine to which extend it was more extensive. It can only be stated that in some
aspects it was similar to dictatorship, yet, doubtfully, it is an exaggeration to compare it to the power of L. Cornelius Sulla, whose entitlements were significantly
bigger than Pompeius’s in 52.
⁶³ eir meaning was very meaningfully indicated by Appian (BC, 2.23.85). Cf. in this context:
Jaczynowska 1995, 154.
⁶⁴ Cic., A., 4.1.7; Liv., Per., CIV; Plut., Pomp., 49.4; App., BC, 2.18.67; Cass. Dio, 39.9.3; Stein 1930,
34; Rotondi 1962, 402–403. Cf. also Boak 1918, 19–20; Girardet 1992, 184; 2001, 187–190; Rogosz 2004,
210–217.
⁶⁵ Mainly the powers resulting from the second function were the most appropriate for this.
⁶⁶ Linderski 1966, 152. See also Gruen 1974, 154; Christ 1976, 134.
342
 
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
CURATORES LUDORUM À LA BASE
DE TESSERAE SPECTACULIS
S R
A
u début du XXᵉ siècle Michel Rostowzew a publié l’un de ses ouvrages
les plus importants — un catalogue de différents jetons des temps romains (tesserae). Ils étaient utilisés comme les tickets d’entrée aux jeux,
mais aussi aux lupanars ou bien encore donnaient le droit au système public de
l’approvisionnement en vivres des habitants de Rome¹. L’objet de notre intérêt
sont ceux d’entre eux qui servaient de tickets d’entrée aux amphithéâtres ou aux
cirques. Ils constituent une source intéressante bien que peu connue jusqu’alors
de la connaissance de l’histoire du Haut-Empire romain malgré le fait qu’ils incluent des images et des légendes semblables aux monnaies. C’est pour cela qu’ils
étaient dans l’Antiquité utilisés comme le porteur de la propagande impériale au
même degré que de l’argent circulant, d’autant plus qu’ils étaient associés d’une
manière univoque à la générosité de l’empereur. Michel Rostowzew ne s’est pas
uniquement limité à la publication du catalogue mais il a en même temps fait publier sa thèse de doctorat consacrée à l’interprétation de cet extrêmement difficile
recueil de sources et a ainsi créé les bases d’un regard moderne du problème de
l’organisation des jeux au cours des premières dizaines d’années du principat².
Sous la République, les devoirs relatifs aux préparatifs, au financement et au
déroulement des jeux liés au Fêtes romaines dites ludi, qualifiés de terme de cura
ludorum étaient confiés aux édiles, ce dont nous informent directement Cicéron et de nombreuses mentions détaillées chez Live et chez d’autres écrivains³.
Il faudrait souligner ici que les devoirs des édiles étaient complexes parce qu’ils
¹ Tesserarum urbis Romae et suburbi plumbearum sylloge, edidit M. Rostowzew, St.-Pétersbourg
1903 [Leipzig 1975] ; Tesserarum urbis Romae et suburbi plumbearum syllog. Supplementum I , edidit
M. Rostowzew, St.-Pétersbourg 1905 [Leipzig 1975].
² Rostowzew 1905, 46–52.
³ Cic., Leg., 3.7 : suntoque aediles curatores urbis, annonae, ludorumque solemnium ; Verr. II, 5.36 ;
cf. Liv., 6.42.13 ; 10.47.4 ; 23.30.16–17 ; 24.43.7 ; 25.2.8 et 10 ; 27.6.19 ; 27.21.9 ; 27.36.8–9 ; 28.10.7 ;
29.11.12 ; 29.38.8 ; 30.39.8 ; 31.4.7 ; 31.50.2-3 ; 33.25.1–2 ; 33.42.9 et 11 ; 34.54.3–4 ; 39.7.8 et 10 ; 40.59.6 ;
Terent., Phorm., Andr., Eunu., Heaut., Hecyr. (didasc.) ; Cass. Dio, 37.8.1 ; 43.48.4 ; Ascon., 69–70 ;
Plaut., Sti. (didasc.) ; Cic., Harusp., 27 ; Ovid., Fasti, 5.287 ; Mommsen 1887–1888, II, 517–521 ; Rostowzew 1905, 45 ; Hirschfeld 1905, 285–286 ; Sabbatucci 1954, 262–293 ; De Martino 1972–1974, II,
240–241 ; Słapek 1995.
345
346
 
embrassaient tous les aspects de l’organisation des ludi relatifs à leur financement, en partie à la charge des édiles eux-mêmes qui voulaient de la sorte gagner
la bienveillance des électeurs utile dans leur carrière politique antérieure⁴. C’est
aussi eux-mêmes qui étaient responsables de leurs préparatifs et déroulement, de
la livraison d’un nombre suffisant de gladiateurs et d’animaux sauvages, et enfin
aussi du maintien de l’ordre public au cours de leur durée.
Avant Michel Rostowzew
Les jeux étaient sans doute l’un des éléments populistes du système républicain romain et il ne faut pas s’étonner qu’ils sont devenus un outil de soutien du
pouvoir des hommes politiques ambitieux romains qui se sont élevés au-dessus
de la sphère traditionnellement associée aux chefs politiques de l’époque républicaine⁵. C’est pour cela que sous le principat, le mode de leur organisation devait
changer. Selon Dion Cassius ce changement avait un caractère uniquent esthétique et consistait à retirer la réalisation de la cura ludorum des édiles et à la
confier aux préteurs⁶. En théorie, l’organisation occasionnelle des jeux par les
édiles était toujours possible⁷, mais c’étaient des cas rares lesquels sous Auguste
se rapportaient uniquement à l’édilité de Marc Agrippa qui était sans aucun doute
un personnage exceptionnel⁸. En même temps, Auguste et les membres de sa famille ont pris le rôle de sponsor principal et d’organisateur officiel des spectacles⁹.
Les successeurs d’Auguste continuaient cee solution tout en étant conscients de
gagner ainsi de la popularité et aussi de légitimiser leur pouvoir¹⁰. Il était donc
naturel qu’un appareil administratif s’occupant de l’organisation de ces spectacles
souvent très riches qui devaient éblouir par leur originalité a été créé. Les sources
liéraires consacrées à la question technique de l’organisation des jeux sous le
règne des premiers empereurs sont très faibles. Seul Suétone écrit que sous Caligula existait la fonction de curateur qui s’occupait des jeux : curatorem munerum
ac uenationum per continuos dies in conspectu suo catenis uerberatum non prius occidit quam offensus putrefacti cerebri odore¹¹. Malheureusement, ce texte ne nous
⁴ Voir Veyne 1995, 359–362 ; cf. Słapek 1995, 47–72.
⁵ Słapek 1995, 100–138.
⁶ Cass. Dio, 54.2.3–4 : καὶ τοῖς μὲν στρατηγοῖς τὰς πανηγύρεις πάσας προσέταξεν, ἔκ τε τοῦ
δημοσίου δίδοσθαί τι αὐτοῖς κελεύσας, καὶ προσαπειπὼν μήτε ἐς ἐκείνας οἴκοθέν τινα πλεῖον τοῦ
ἑτέρου ἀναλίσκειν μήθ’ ὁπλομαχίαν μήτ’ ἄλλως εἰ μὴ ἡ βουλὴ ψηφίσαιτο, μήτ’ αὖ πλεονάκις ἢ
δὶς ἐν ἑκάστῳ ἔτει, μήτε πλειόνων εἴκοσι καὶ ἑκατὸν ἀνδρῶν ποιεῖν ; Mommsen 1887–1888, II, 522 ;
Rostowzew 1905, 45 ; Hirschfeld 1905, 286 ; Sabbatucci 1954, 262 ; Cavallaro 1984, 33 ; cf. Impallomeni
1956, 246–248.
⁷ Cass. Dio, 54.8.5 ; SHA, Gord., 3.5 ; Mommsen 1887–1888, II, 522.
⁸ Rostowzew 1905, 51 ; cf. Cass. Dio, 49.43.2–4 ; Plin., NH, 36.104.
⁹ Voir Louis 2010, 341–360.
¹⁰ Cameron 1976, 157–192 et 271–296 ; Wiedeman 1997, 44–51, cf. 79–93 ; Beacham 1999, 45–196.
¹¹ Suet., Cal., 27.4.
       
347
permet pas de constater si cee fonction existait encore pendant un long temps
ou bien si elle n’était qu’une idée éphémère de Caligula. Suétone ne donne pas
non plus l’information sur l’appartenance sociale de ce curateur. Oo Hirschfeld a avancé une thèse audacieuse selon laquelle il devait appartenir au groupe
d’affranchis¹² vu qu’aux temps de Caligula et de Claude, grâce aux sources épigraphiques sont connus les cas dans lesquels la surveillance de l’organisation des
jeux a été confiée aux procurateurs d’origine esclave¹³. Dans une certaine mesure, la manière horrible dont ce curateur a été traité aurait pu désigner sa basse
origine si ce n’était pas Suétone qui décrit les circonstances de sa mort dans le
catalogue d’horreurs de Caligula. La thèse d’Oo Hirschfeld n’a pas été massivement acceptée et une partie de chercheurs aribuaient au curateur mentionné
par Suétone l’appartenance à l’ordre équestre¹⁴. Déjà sous Claude, apparaît la
première mention sur le procurateur responsable des préparatifs des jeux, issu de
l’ordre équestre. C’était Sulpicius Rufus — procurator ludi, l’une des victimes des
purifications après la mort de Messaline¹⁵.
L’historiographie du XIXᵉ siècle liait le développement ultérieur de cee institution à deux exemples connus de l’époque de Néron. Tacite nous informe de la
cura ludorum confiée à Arruntius Stella en 55 mentionnant cet événement d’un
trait avec les nominations qui eurent lieu en même temps, du préfet de l’annone
et celui d’Égypte¹⁶. Pline l’Ancien confirme que sous le même règne, de l’organisation des ludi s’occupait un certain Iulianus délégué par l’empereur qui envoya en Germanie un chevalier romain pour qu’il apportât de l’ambre qui devait
rendre les jeux magnifiques¹⁷. Cet Iulianus est d’habitude identifié au personnage
mentionné par Tacite, Claudius Iulianus — le commandant de la floe romaine
qui stationnait à Misène et le commandant des gladiateurs au temps de la guerre
¹² Hirschfeld 1905, 288 avec n. 3–4.
¹³ Hirschfeld 1877, 177–180. Un peu différemment a été présenté ce problème dans la deuxième
édition dont le titre a été changé : 1905, 287–292 ; cf. les curateurs parmi les affranchis : CIL, VI, 8498
— procurator munerum ; 8583 — procurator Laurento ad elephantos ; 10162 — tabularius a muneribus ;
10209 — p(rae)p(ositus) herbariarum ; 33981 — tabularius a muneribus ; X, 7295 (Panhormus) ; XI,
3612 (Caerae) — procurator a muneribus.
¹⁴ Voir DS, II.2, 1910, p. 1329 (G. Mancini, s.v. Curator).
¹⁵ Tac., Ann., 11.35.2–3 : admotusque Silius tribunali non defensionem, non moras temptavit, precatus
ut mors adceleraretur. eadem constantia et inlustres equites Romanos cupidos maturae necis fecit.
et Titium Proculum, custodem a Silio Messalinae datum et indicium offerentem, Veium Valentem
confessum et Pompeium Urbicum ac Saufeium Trogum ex consciis tradi ad supplicium iubet. Decrius
quoque Calpurnianus vigilum praefectus, Sulpicius Rufus ludi procurator, Iuncus Vergilianus senator
eadem poena adfecti ; cf. Pflaum 1950, 42 et 51.
¹⁶ Tac., Ann., 13.22.1 : Praefectura annonae Fenio Rufo, cura ludorum, qui a Caesare parabantur,
Arruntio Stellae, Aegyptus C〈laudio〉 Balbillo permiuntur.
¹⁷ Plin., NH, 37.45 : vivitque eques R. ad id comparandum missus ab Iuliano curante gladiatorium
munus Neronis principis. qui et commercia ea et litora peragravit, tanta copia invecta, ut retia coercendis feris podium protegentia sucinis nodaretur, harena vero et libitina totusque unius diei apparatus
in variatione pompae singulorum dierum esset e sucino.
348
 
civile de 69 ap. J.-C.¹⁸ La conclusion prinicpale qui résulte de ces témoignages est
qu’au plus tard sous le règne de Caligula a été créée une nouvelle fonction de
curateurs ludorum ou munerum qui au nom de l’empereur organisaient les jeux
et — comme l’indiquent les témoignages de Tacite et de Pline l’Ancien — appartenaient à l’ordre équestre au moins à l’époque de Néron. Si le sort ultérieur de cee
institution est difficile à suivre à cause du manque de sources, nous pouvons dire
qu’à partir des temps de Domitien, le rôle d’organisateurs des jeux impériaux a
été pris définitivement par les procurateurs équestres¹⁹, y compris les procuratores
ludi magni, leurs adjoints à titre de subprocurator, procuratores ludi matutini et les
curatores triumphi²⁰.
La conception de Michel Rostowzew
À ce moment-là, ont apparu les publications de Michel Rostowzew mentionnées plus haut. Analysant les tesserae spectaculis qui se sont conservées jusqu’à
nos jours, il a dit que la fonction de curateur responsable de l’organisation des
jeux non pas seulement existait en réalité mais aussi elle avait été introduite déjà
sous Auguste et continuait à exister sous Tibère. Le fondement de la thèse de
Michel Rostowzew sont les tesserae avec les légendes contenant les noms des
personnes responsables de l’organisation des jeux avec l’abréviation CVR.²¹ Malgré ce message laconique, Michel Rostowzew indiquait qu’au moins trois tesserae pouvaient être datées du début du principat. À son avis, sur le revers de la
première d’entre elles se trouve la représentation de la tête de Julia — la fille
d’Auguste — au diadème, sur l’avers par contre, la légende suivante : M(arcvs)
ANTISTIVS LABEO CVR(ator)²². Apparaît ici un personnage remarquable parce
¹⁸ Tac., Hist., 3.57.2 : Vitellius Claudium Iulianum […] permulcendis militum animis delegit; data in
auxilium urbana cohors et gladiatores, quibus Iulianus praeerat.
¹⁹ Hirschfeld 1905, 289.
²⁰ Procuratores ludi magni — AE 1918, 85 (= Cagnat 1918, CC–CCII, Lambesis) ; 1940, 101 = 1950,
244 (= Fuhrmann 1940, col. 447) ; 1955, 225 (= Frézouls 1953, 248) ; 1969/1970, 193 (= Reynolds 1962 ;
Christol 1974) ; CIL, VI, 632 (= ILS, 5084a) ; 1645 + adn. p. 864, 3163, 3811, 4725 (= ILS, 2773) ; 41269
(= 1647 + adn. p. 854, 3163 = X, 1710) ; 41143 (= 1937* = 39440a = II, 396* = V, 648* = XIV, 440* = ILS,
9002) ; 41286 ; 41287 (= 1642 + adn. p. 3163, 3811) ; VIII, 8328 (+ AE 1941, 175, Cuicul, Numidia) ;
XI, 5213 (= ILS, 1338, Fulginiae) ; X, 270* (Misenum) ; voir aussi Plin., NH, 37.45 ; Tac., Hist., 3.57.2 ;
3.76–77 ; cf. Pflaum 1960–1961, III, 1025–1026 ; I, 91–92 (nᵒ 38), 199–216 (nᵒ 94), 217–219, (nᵒ 95),
326–331 (nᵒ 139) ; II, 605–610 (no 229), 859–864 (nᵒ 331bis), 872–876 (nᵒ 334) ; 1982, 59–62, nᵒ 237A.
Subprocurator — CIL, II, 1085 = ILS, 1406 (Ilipa, Baetica) ; cf. Pflaum 1960–1961, II, 629–632, nᵒ 235 ; III,
1028. Procuratores ludi matutini — Tac., Ann., 11.35 ; AE 1941, 63 (= Jacopi 1939, Roma) ; 1972, 574 (=
Knibbe 1968–1971, 19–20 + Fot. 6 = IEph, III, 852, Ephesos) ; CIL, VIII, 7039 + adn. p. 1848 (= ILS, 1437
= ILAlg, II, 665, Cirta, Numidiae) ; XIV, 160 + adn. p. 481 (= ILS, 1428 + adn. III, p. CLXXV, Ostia) ;
2922 (= ILS, 1420, Praenestae) ; cf. AE 1966, 161 = 1972, 70 (Ostia) ; cf. Pflaum 1960–1961, I, 379–385
(nᵒ 158), 495–500 (no 183) ; II, 799–802 (nᵒ 312), 823–824 (nᵒ 318) ; III, 1028 ; 1982, 24–26 (nᵒ 70), 41–42
(nᵒ 126), 112. Curatores triumphi — CIL, XIV, 5341 + 5353 + 5382 + Zevi 1971.
²¹ Syll., nᵒˢ 513–516, 521–523, 525, 526, 528 ; Syll. Suppl., nᵒˢ 514a–c.
²² Syll., nᵒ 514.
       
349
que ce M. Antistius Labeo est un célèbre juriste des temps du premier empereur.
Il est auteur de nombreux ouvrages juridiques (quelques 400 livres), fondateur de
l’école proculienne qui termina sa carrière comme préteur. Il est un personnage le
mieux documenté parmi les curateurs connus²³. Une tessera pareille avec la représentation de la fille du premier empereur sur l’avers, sans diadème, est munie de
l’inscription suivante : PR[I]SCILLVS CVR(ator)²⁴. Cee fois-ci, nous ne disposons
pas d’informations supplémentaires sur ce Priscillus. Probablement au règne du
successeur d’Auguste tombe la troisième dédicace. Sur l’avers se trouve l’image
de Livie, la veuve de l’empereur Auguste et la mère de Tibère au pouvoir, ou d’Antonia l’Aînée. Sur le revers de cee tessera se trouve la légende suivante : C(aivs)
ANNIVS POLLIO PR(aetor) D(esignatvs) CVR(ator)²⁵. Dans ce cas-là, de même que
dans la cas d’Antistius Labeon, nous avons affaire sans doute à un membre du
Sénat, mais qui n’a pas encore le rang de préteur parce qu’il venait d’être désigné
à ce poste-là²⁶.
Si les identifications des portraits proposées par Michel Rostowzew sur les tesserae ci-dessus peuvent tromper, tous les doutes seront dissipés par deux tesserae
contenant des légendes univoques. La première d’entre elles a été publiée en 1922
par Kurt Regling sur la marge d’un article posthume d’Heinrich Dressel. Sur l’avers se trouve la représentation d’une femme avec la légende : IVLIA AVGV |STA.
Sur le revers, il y a l’inscription : A(vlvs) VITELLI |VS CVR(ator). Nous pouvons
nous douter que la représentation sur l’avers se rapporte à Livie, la veuve d’Auguste, ce qui permet de dater le jeton des temps du règne de Tibère. Par contre, la
légende sur le revers se réère à Aulus Vitellius, consul de 32 et l’oncle paternel du
futur empereur Vitellius²⁷. Encore plus univoque du point de vue chronologique
est la tessera suivante qui commémore les jeux organisés sous le patronage de
l’empereur Tibère lui-même, ce dont prouvent sa représentation à la couronne
de laurier et la légende sur l’avers : TI(berivs) AVGVSTVS. Le nom du curateur
se trouve sur le revers dans la légende : T(itvs) CORNELIVS PAETVS PONTIF(ex)
CVRAT(or)²⁸. T. Cornelius Paetus est un personnage complètement inconnu, à
part la datation exacte de son activité²⁹. Nous savons de cee source aussi qu’il
était membre d’un collège pontifical, ce qui témoigne probablement de son appartenance à l’ordre sénatorial³⁰. Nous pouvons ajouter encore quelques cas aux
²³ Rostowzew 1905, 48 ; voir Dig., 1.2.2.47 ; 24.3.64.9 ; Tac., Ann., 3.75 ; Gell., 13.10 ; cf. 13.12.1–4 ;
PIR¹, A, 594 ; PIR², A, 760 (A. Stein) ; Lenel 1960, 502–558.
²⁴ Syll. Suppl., nᵒ 514a ; Rostowzew 1905, 48.
²⁵ Syll., nᵒ 513.
²⁶ Rostowzew 1905, 48 ; PIR², A, 680, cf. 626, 677, 679 (E. Groag).
²⁷ K. Regling, ad Dressel 1922, 182–183 ; cf. PIR¹, V, 497 (cf. 498) ; Cavallaro 1984, 119, n. 287.
²⁸ Syll. Suppl., nᵒ 514c ; des représentations semblables de l’époque de Néron : Syll., nᵒˢ 531, 539 et
peut-être celle de Caligula — 515.
²⁹ Rostowzew 1905, 49 ; PIR², C, 1410 (E. Groag).
³⁰ Mommsen 1887–1888, II, 33 ; III, 567 ; cf. Scheid et Granino Cecere 1999.
350
 
exemples ci-dessus, lesquels pourtant sont plus difficiles à interpréter. Pratiquement inconnu, à part la mention sur la tessera, est le personnage de C. Bruidius
Brutus³¹. Uniquement Edmund Groag considérait qu’il pouvait être le fils de Bruttedius Rufus, rhéteur sous Auguste³². Par contre, Caecilius Iustus connu grâce à
un autre jeton, selon l’avis de Michel Rostowzew assumait sa fonction sous Caligula. Partant des cas précédents, il considère que le curateur était le membre de
l’ordre sénatorial³³. Edmund Groag identifiait ce personnage à Iustus Rufus primé
à Démétrias de titre de legatus pro praetorae proconsulis Aaiae ou Macedoniae
et tribunus plebis designatus³⁴. Pourtant, à part cela, c’est un personnage inconnu. Nous ne pouvons pas ajouter plus d’informations, à part leur prénom sur les
curateurs nommés : P. Gavius Priscus, Q. M… Valerius, C. Oppius Hon(oratus ou
-oratianus, -estus, -estianus) et Arr…³⁵.
Michel Rostowzew s’est intéressé à deux tesserae contenant une représentation rare et caractéristique incluant une sella curulis et six fasces. Nous ne savons
rien sur les curateurs eux-mêmes — Herrenius Rufus et P. Teius Rufus, mais la
représentation incluse au jeton est identique à celle qui se trouve uniquement sur
les monnaies de L. Livineius Regulus des temps du second triumvirat³⁶. Bien que
le deuxième n’ait pas mis le titre de curateur dans la légende de son jeton, nous
pouvons supposer que tous les deux occupaient le même office³⁷. La représentation incluse aux jetons symbolisait la fonction de préteur exercée par les curateurs
et elle était l’illustration de l’information transmise par Dion Cassius³⁸. D’après
Michel Rostowzew les deux dernières tesserae, à la différence de celles décrites
ci-dessus, ne se rapportaient pas aux jeux organisés au nom de l’empereur ou des
membres de sa famille mais ils étaient organisés aux frais et au nom des curateurs
eux-mêmes conformément à la décision d’Auguste qui a réformé uniquement le
système valable sous la République. L’organisation des jeux dans ces cas-là (au
moins sous Auguste et Tibère) avait un caractère privé. C’est peut-être pour cela
³¹ Syll., nᵒ 521 : C(aivs) BRV[T]TIDI(vs) BRVTVS || CVR(ator) ; Rostowzew 1905, 49 ; PIR², B, 157
(E. Groag).
³² Voir Sen., Con., 7.5.9 ; 9.1.11 ; cf. Ovid., Pont., 1.1.3 et 24 ; 3.9.1 et 44 ; 4.6 ; PIR¹, B, 129 voir aussi
130 ; Rostowzew 1905, 49 ; PIR², B, 156 (E. Groag) ; 171 (A. Stein) ; RE, III.1, 1897, col. 906 (Henze, s.v.
Bruedius 1) ; Rutledge 2001, 204.
³³ Syll., nᵒ 515 : CAECILIVS IVSTVS CVR(ator) ; Rostowzew 1905, 49 ; PIR², C, 51 (E. Groag).
³⁴ AEph 1929, 142, nᵒ 8 ; PIR², C, 10 (E. Groag).
³⁵ Syll., nᵒˢ 522, 523, 525, 526 ; Rostowzew 1905, 49–50 ; PIR², G, 108 (L. Petersen) ; O, 119
(K.-P. Johne). Il faudrait peut-être inclure à ce cercle C. Luccius Crassus dont le prénom se trouve
sur l’un des jetons, pourtant sans donner son titre — cf. Syll., nᵒ 524 ; Rostowzew 1905, 49 ; PIR², L,
365 (L. Petersen) ; RE, XIII.2, 1927, col. 1562 (Münzer, s.v. Luccius 1).
³⁶ Rostowzew 1905, 47–48 ; cf. Ruciński 2009, 36–41 + Fig. 2b–d.
³⁷ Syll., nᵒˢ 516–517) ; Rostowzew 1905, 47 ; RE, IXA, 1934, col. 1110 (E. Groag, s.v. Teius 12) ; PIR¹,
T, 104 ; PIR², H, 125. Cf. Syll., nᵒˢ 518–520 ; Rostowzew 1905, 48.
³⁸ Voir n. 6.
       
351
que sur les avers des tesserae apparaissent indépendamment de la représentation,
les évocations à Junon de Lanuvium ou celle de Rome³⁹.
Les sources en forme de jeton ont en même temps confirmé la thèse d’Oo Hirschfeld en ce qui concerne la surveillance de l’organisation d’au moins quelques
jeux qui était confiée à une certaine étape aux affranchis impériaux. L’exemple
le plus évident est le jeton signé avec le prénom de Iulius Qadratus sur le revers
duquel se trouve la légende suivante : IVL(ivs) QV[A]DR(atvs) TI(berii) L(ibertvs)
PROC(vrator) || LA|EN(as)⁴⁰. Nous pouvons en déduire que la même situation avait
lieu dans le cas de Tiberius Claudius, peu connu App[…] et Iulius Cal[…] dont les
prénoms se trouvent sur les légendes des tesserae⁴¹, mais elles ne contiennent pas
de mention sur sa position sociale. Pourtant, le fait que ces personnes portaient
les prénoms appartenant à la dynastie impériale des Julio-Claudiens nous indique
que nous avons affaire aux affranchis impériaux qui jouaient leur rôle aux temps
de Caligula et de Claude.
Michel Rostowzew a créé ainsi les fondements de l’approche moderne de la
question qui nous intéresse. Nous pouvons la résumer en quelques points qui
deviendront l’objet de la discussion :
1. l’office mentionné par Suétone existait déjà réellement avant le règne de
Caligula — sous Auguste et sous Tibère ;
2. sous le règne de deux premiers empereurs, il était pourvu par des membres
de l’ordre sénatorial ;
3. le rôle des sénateurs était double :
(a) agir remplaçant l’empereur et les membres de sa famille ;
(b) l’organisation des jeux au nom propre ;
4. sous Claude, les sénateurs ont été en partie remplacés par des affranchis
impériaux et des chevaliers munis du titre de procurateur ou de curateur
(les deux titres étaient concurrentiels l’un par rapport à l’autre)⁴².
La critique de Daniel Van Berchem
La critique des convictions de Michel Rostowzew se passe sur quelques plans.
Les plus grandes objections ont été présentées par Denis Van Berchem qui a attiré l’aention sur l’abréviation CVR. qui selon lui ne devait pas forcément désigner un office de curateur à part, mais elle pouvait aussi bien être développée
³⁹ Syll., nᵒˢ 522–523 (Junon) ; nᵒˢ 524–525 (Roma). Cee dernière était sans doute la patronne des
ludi Romani — Rostowzew 1905, 51 et 55.
⁴⁰ Syll., nᵒ 532 ; cf. Rostowzew 1905, 50.
⁴¹ Syll., nᵒˢ 539, 548, 545, 547 ; cf. Rostowzew 1905 ; Pflaum, 1960–1961, III, 1126–1128.
⁴² Rostowzew 1905, 46–52 ; cf. DS II.2, 1910, p. 1329 (G. Mancini, s.v. Curator) ; Cavallaro 1984,
117–118.
352
 
comme un verbe CVR(avit). À son avis, les inscriptions sur les tesserae ne mentionnaient pas les officiers mais elles indiquaient uniquement la personne responsable de l’organisation des jeux⁴³. À la base de la légende sur l’avers de l’un
des jetons : C. ANNIVS POLLIO PR(aetor) D(esignatvs) CVR(avit)⁴⁴ et des représentations contenant la sella curulis et six fasces sur les autres⁴⁵, il considérait que
les personnes énumérées sur ces tesserae s’occupaient de la cura ludorum dans
le cadre de l’office de préteur, ce qui correspond au message de Dion Cassius⁴⁶.
Selon Denis Van Berchem, il s’agissait de ces préteurs auxquels Auguste avait
confié la surveillance des Aerarium Saturni. Tous les sénateurs connus de tesserae
et aussi d’autres sources exerçaient la préture, c’est pourquoi ils s’inscrivent au
schéma lisible du texte de Dion Cassius mentionné plus haut. Par contre dans le
cas de l’organisation des jeux extraordinaires, financés par l’empereur, ce dernier
pouvait se servir de ses affranchis ou chevaliers. Nous pouvons constater que
l’objet de la controverse se rapportait non pas tellement à la question de savoir
si les personnes énumérées sur les tesserae s’occupaient effectivement de l’organisation des jeux — c’est incontestable, mais à la question de savoir quelle était
la base de leur action : soit l’office dénommé curator munerum ac venationum ou
au moins, curator munerum, soit uniquement une délégation impériale spéciale
confiée aux membres de l’ordre sénatorial qui ne créait pourtant pas de nouvelle
fonction.
À mon avis, la conception exprimée par Denis Van Berchem ne peut pas être
soutenue parce que son argumentation ne s’applique pas à tous les cas connus.
L’existence seule de l’office, à part la mention de Suétone, semble être confirmée
par une tessera anonyme intitulée CVR(ator) || M(vnervm)⁴⁷. En plus, l’une des tesserae a une lecture visible CVRAT. que nous pouvons interpréter naturellement
comme CVRAT(or)⁴⁸. Ne se laisse pas non plus développer comme curavit une
autre tessera, contenant l’inscription en Dativie, où l’abréviation CVR., peut être
lue uniquement comme CVR(atore)⁴⁹. Il est aussi incontestable que les tesserae qui
contiennent les prénoms des personnes responsables de l’organisation des jeux
ont souvent sur l’avers une représentation des membres de la dynastie au pouvoir,
ce qui est contradictoire avec les thèses de D. Van Berchem, selon lesquelles les sénateurs organisaient les jeux uniquement à leur propre nom. M. Adele Cavallaro
considère que les tesserae de T. Cornelius Paetus et de C. Annius Pollio contredisent en plus la thèse qui admet des liens étroits existant entre la cura ludorum
⁴³
⁴⁴
⁴⁵
⁴⁶
⁴⁷
⁴⁸
⁴⁹
Van Berchem 1936, 309–310 ; cf. Cavallaro 1984, 119, n. 288.
Syll., nᵒ 513.
Syll., nᵒ 516, cf. 517–519.
Voir n. 6.
Syll., nᵒ 528 ; cf. nᵒ 529.
Syll., nᵒ 514c ; mais cf. Van Berchem 1936, 315, n. 71.
Syll., nᵒ 522.
       
353
et les préteurs parce que les deux hommes cités ci-dessus, n’étaient certainement
pas encore préteurs au moment où ils organisaient les jeux⁵⁰.
La nature double ou unitaire de l’office ?
Comme c’était déjà dit plus haut, Michel Rostowzew pensait que les actions
des curateurs avaient habituellement un caractère de remplacement des membres
de la famille impériale ou de l’empereur lui-même⁵¹. Il croyait aussi qu’au cours
de plusieurs années de règne de Tibère, ce rôle était assumé par Caligula, d’où
peut-être la présence de sa représentation sur certains jetons⁵². Par contre, les
tesserae dépourvues de références à la famille au pouvoir étaient créées pour les
besoins des jeux organisés au nom et aux frais des curateurs eux-mêmes, en tant
que préteurs. Il faudrait ici distinguer deux termes : facere (ou dare) ludi de cura
ludorum⁵³. La première expression signifiait le financement des jeux, indiquait la
personne grâce aux moyens fianciers de laquelle les jeux pouvaient avoir lieu.
Souvent, ce rôle était résérvé à l’empereur lui-même ou bien, il le confiait formellement aux membres de sa famille, ce qui était diffusé fortement par la propagande⁵⁴. La deuxième expression désignait les tâches dont étaient chargés les
facteurs officels liés à l’organisation des spectacles, à la sécurité et à l’ordre qui
devaient être assurés au cours de leur durée. La différence entre facere (ou dare)
ludi et cura ludorum peut être aperçue analysant les tesserae, où sur l’avers se
trouve la représentation liée à la famille impériale (facere), et sur le revers, par
contre, le prénom de la personne responsable de l’organisation des jeux (cura).
C’est pour cela que la thèse de Michel Rostowzew, selon laquelle les curateurs
représentés sur les tesserae y compris la représentation des femmes appartenant
à la famille impériale n’étaient que des substituts de vraies organisatrices des jeux
parce qu’elles ne pouvaient pas s’engager directement vu leur sexe et avaient besoin d’un représentant masculin, ne peut pas être soutenue⁵⁵. Il en résulte que
Michel Rostowzew ne distinguait pas facere de cura ludorum et ce qui est plus
important encore, dans sa théorie, la tessera avec Tibère devient complètement
incompréhensible parce qu’il pouvait pourtant représenter lui-même. En plus,
dans ce cas-là, la légende suggère que la personne représentée n’était pas préteur au moment de la frappe du jeton. Elle parle uniquement à l’appartenance
⁵⁰ R. Cavallaro (1984, 120–121, n. 288) admet pourtant l’idée que sous Auguste, il était possible
d’indiquer de tels curateurs parmi les membres de l’ordre équestre et non pas seulement celui
sénatorial.
⁵¹ Syll., nᵒˢ 513–514 ; Syll. Suppl., nᵒˢ 514a–c ; Rostowzew 1905, 47–52.
⁵² Rostowzew 1905, 52 ; cf. Syll., nᵒ 515 ; Hirschfeld 1905, 287–288 ; DS II.2, 1910, p. 1329 (G. Mancini,
s.v. Curator).
⁵³ Voir Cavallaro 1984, 118 (avec n. 285), 146, 151–152 ; González Vázquez 2001 ; cf. Słapek 1995, 50 ;
contra Rostowzew 1905, 51.
⁵⁴ Voir RGDA, 22 ; Rostowzew 1905, 45–46 et 51–52.
⁵⁵ Rostowzew 1905, 51.
354
 
au collège pontifical⁵⁶. Nous trouvons une régularité pareille aussi chez Annius
Pollio qui est qualifié directement de terme de praetor designatus⁵⁷. N’est pas tout
à fait vraie non plus la thèse selon laquelle les tesserae sans la représentation d’un
membre de la famille impériale mais contenant seulement le prénom du curateur
étaient frappées au nom et aux frais de ce dernier. Plus raisonnable nous semble
la solution selon laquelle déjà sous Auguste, le financement des jeux était en totalité subi par l’empereur, mais avec le temps, il ne devait pas rappeler à chaque
occasion son rôle parce qu’il était évident pour chacun, c’est pour cela que sur
les avers des jetons apparaissent des représentations neutres comme l’évocation
à Junon de Lanuvium ou de Rome⁵⁸. Le retour à l’ancienne pratique c’est-à-dire à
la représentation des empereurs eut lieu seulement sous Néron⁵⁹.
L’appartenance sociale des curateurs
La critique des opinions de Michel Rostowzew avait un caractère général mais
elle concernait aussi des cas particuliers. Le meilleur exemple en est le personnage
nommé Q. Caecilius Q. f. Oinogenus f. qui, il y a encore peu de temps, était complètement inconnu, à part la mention sur la tessera. Sur cee base uniquement,
il était inclu à l’ordre sénatorial et son activité datait de l’époque d’Auguste rien
qu’ayant supposé que ce jeune homme sur l’avers de la tessera était Marc Agrippa⁶⁰. Nos connaissances ont été un peu élargies par la publication des deux inscriptions d’honneur datées du début du principat qui aestent l’existence de deux
Caecilii Oinogeni appartenant au [conventu]s Cartaginensis⁶¹. M. Giocoli et Gian
Luca Gregori ont avancé la thèse selon laquelle il y avait un lien entre Caecilius
Oinogenus connu de la tessera et ceux connus des inscriptions). Ils soulignent
que le f(ilivs) inclu à l’inscription mentionnée et sur la tessera après le cognomen
prouve l’existence de deux personnages, le père et le fils qui portaient les prénoms
et noms identiques, d’où la nécessité de les distinguer⁶². Les chercheurs italiens
⁵⁶ Voir n. 28.
⁵⁷ Voir n. 25.
⁵⁸ Voir n. 39.
⁵⁹ Syll., nᵒˢ 531 et 539.
⁶⁰ Syll. Suppl., nᵒ 514b = Franke 1984, 125–126 + Taf. IVb : (Av.) la tête du jeune homme sur la
droite, au diadème ; (Rv.) [Q(vintvs) C]AECILIVS | Q(vinti) F(ilivs) | OINOGENVS | F(ilivs) CVR(ator) ;
Rostowzew 1905, 48 et cf. 51 ; PIR², C, 68 (E. Groag) ; cf. Giocoli et Gregori 1997, 164–166 ; Franke
1984 ; Harris 2000.
⁶¹ CIL, VI, 41084 = AE 1997, 151B = Giocoli et Gregori 1997, 164–166, nᵒ 5A : [Q. Caecili]o Q(uinti)
f(ilio) Oinogeṇọ | [conventu]s Carthaginiensis ; CIL, VI, 41083 = AE 1997, 151A = 2000, 214 = Bartolini 1982 = Giocoli et Gregori 1997, 164–166, nᵒ 5B : Q. Caecilio Q(uinti)[f(ilio) Oinogeno f(ilio) ?] |
conventus Ca[rthaginiensis].
⁶² Il faudrait préciser que Denis Van Berchem (1936, 315, n. 71) interprétait différemment la légende sur l’avers de la tessera de Caecilius Oinogenus : [Q(vintvs) C]AECILIVS | Q(vinti) F(ilivs) |
OINOGENVS | F(eci) CVR(avit).
       
355
ont partagé l’avis de Michel Rostowzew, que ces personnages de la tessera étaient
d’origine sénatoriale et certains d’entre eux, appartenaient au cercle de praetorii.
Seul W.V. Harris a contesté cee hypothèse et aussi la supposition que toute la
famille venait d’Hispanie. Il souligne que le cognomen Oinogenus indique plutôt
l’origine grecque et non pas celle hispanique⁶³. Ces deux questions sont complémentaires parce que si à l’époque de la dynastie Julio-Claudienne il y avait des
sénateurs d’origine hispanique, ceux d’Orient étaient pourtant rares. En plus, un
certain Q. Caecilius Oinogenus est connu aussi d’un papyrus daté de l’an 5 av.
J.-C., selon lequel il était citoyen romain et envoya en cadeau cinq esclaves à Himéros⁶⁴. Iza Bieżuńska-Małowist a suggéré qu’il s’agissait ici en réalité de la traite
d’esclaves et non pas d’un cadeau. Une telle traite était indigne d’un sénateur⁶⁵.
C’est pourquoi, selon W.V. Harris la famille appartenait à l’ordre équestre, ce qui
doit être aussi rapporté au curateur connu de la tessera spectaculis.
Il faut admere que les thèses de W.V. Harris sont suggestives mais elles ne
sont que des speculations parce qu’il n’y a pas de preuve de l’origine équestre de
la famille, et en plus selon cee supposition, Q. Caecilius Oinogenus f(ilius) serait
l’unique curateur connu appartenant au cercle de chevaliers exerçant sa fonction
sous le règne de trois premiers empereurs⁶⁶.
Le même problème d’interprétation concerne Arruntius Stella, mentionné
plus haut, à qui, selon Tacite, Néron confia en 55 l’accomplissement de la cura
ludorum. Ce témoignage devint pour Michel Rostowzew la base de la thèse selon laquelle, au moins sous Néron, existait une concurrence entre les curateurs
équestres et les procurateurs à qui l’empereur confiait les jeux. Bien que le texte
de Tacite ne donne pas la réponse à la question de savoir quelle était la fonction officielle d’Arruntius Stella, Rostowzew a lié son activité à une tessera assez énigmatique avec la légende ARR(vntivs ?) CVR(ator). Cee thèse est répétée
jusqu’aujourd’hui par de nombreux chercheurs, d’habitude sans une réflexion
plus profonde parce que la plupart des auteurs ne mentionnent pas de théories
alternatives⁶⁷. La première d’entre elles a été avancée encore en 1877 par Oo
Hirschfeld. L’auteur admeait que l’activité d’Arruntius Stella avait un caractère
extraordinaire et n’était liée à aucun titre⁶⁸. Hans Georg Pflaum a emprunté un
autre chemin. Il a démontré qu’aussi bien les tesserae spectaculis que le témoi⁶³ Harris 2000.
⁶⁴ BGU, IV, 1114.
⁶⁵ Bieżuńska-Małowist 1977, II, 36, n. 60.
⁶⁶ Plus d’informations à ce sujet, cf. Ruciński et Antczak (à paraître bientôt).
⁶⁷ Mommsen 1887–1888, II, 951, n. 3 ; Rostowzew 1902, 160–162 ; 1905, 49–50 ; PIR², A, 1150
(A. Stein) ; Hill 1969, 248 ; Houston 1971, 544, nᵒ 530, cf. 343–345, nᵒ 237 ; Alöldy 1982, 337, nᵒ 5 ;
1999, 294–295, nᵒ 5 ; Cavallaro 1984, 117–118 avec n. 283 ; LTUR, I, 19 (F. Coarelli, s.v. Aemiliana) ;
Panciera 2000, 674 et 679 = 2006, II, 1168 et 1171 ; Bruun 2006, 111.
⁶⁸ Hirschfeld 1877, 177, n. 3 = 1905, 287, n. 3 ; Groag 1903, 321 ; Demougin 1992, 433, nᵒ 521 ; Nauta
2002, 212.
356
 
gnage de Tacite prouvaient que sous le règne de Claude, la cura ludorum exercée
au nom de l’empereur avait passé tout d’abord, dans les mains des affranchis,
plus tard, des chevaliers. Les uns et les autres portaient le titre de procurator⁶⁹. Il
n’y a pas d’obstacle pour inclure Arruntius Stella à ce cercle, comme d’ailleurs,
Claudius Iulianus s’occupant de l’organisation des jeux sous Néron⁷⁰, ainsi que
Man(lius ?) For(tunatus ?) non pas bien identifié⁷¹.
Conclusion
Essayant de répondre à la question concernant la titulature et l’appartenance
sociale des personnes responsables de l’organisation des jeux au cours du règne
des empereurs de la dynastie Julio-Claudienne, nous devons indiquer que selon
les témoignages des tesserae spectaculis, nous avons affaire à deux catégories de
magistrats : curateurs et procurateurs. Dans ces cas dans lesquels nos connaissances sont complètes au sujet de la personne s’occupant de l’organisation des
jeux, nous pouvons remarquer une certaine régularité. Les curateurs étaient toujours des sénateurs, par contre, les procurateurs étaient des affranchis ou des
chevaliers. Bien qu’il y ait beaucoup de cas dont l’interprétation est douteuse,
il n’y en a aucun qui contesterait complètement cee thèse. C’est pour cela que
nous pouvons risquer de présenter une vision de changements de l’organisation
impériale de la cura ludorum sous la dynastie Julio-Claudienne légèrement différente de celle de Michel Rostowzew.
1. Auguste et Tibère utilisaient les sénateurs (le plus souvent avant la préture)
à l’organisation des jeux au nom des membres de la famille impériale ;
2. Caligula réforme ce système confiant ce rôle aux affranchies impériaux
munis du titre de procurateur, ce qui réflète la mention de Suétone ;
3. Claude continue cee solution pendant un certain temps pour à la fin,
confier la cura ludorum aux chevaliers munis eux aussi du titre de procurateur ;
4. cee solution est confirmée plus tard aussi, avant tout à partir de l’époque
de Domitien.
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STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
MARCUS CLAUDIUS MARCELLUS IN THE OCTAVIAN
AUGUSTUS’ FAMILY AND POLITICAL PLANS*
P S
T
he initial years of the independent rule of Octavian Augustus was a distinctive period in the process of building the princeps’ position in the new
political reality and the formation of the imperial family focused around
the emperor’s person (domus Augusta).¹ At the early stage of Augustus’ rule,
an important role in the family was assumed by M. Claudius Marcellus, son of
C. Claudius Marcellus, consul in 50 BC, and of the emperor’s sister Octavia.² In
my paper, I am trying to establish the role that Marcellus was to play in the
political and family plans of the first princeps and find an answer to the question
whether Augustus promoted the young man as his successor, as most ancient
authors claim.
In the absence of a male descendant, the princeps very early began to employ
his nephew in the accomplishment of his political goals. In 39 BC, three-year-old
Marcellus became engaged to the daughter of Sextus Pompeius.³ e engagement
— in accordance with the practice of tightening alliances by way of marriage
followed by the Roman aristocracy — was intended to seal the Treaty of Misenum
concluded between Pompeius and Octavian and Antonius in the same year.⁴ In
the end, the marriage, however, did not take place in view of the subsequent
collapse of the treaty and Sextus Pompeius’ death in 36 BC.
e marriage to Livia in 38 BC did not bring Octavian the longed for male
descendant. As a result, Octavian quite early began to introduce Marcellus to the
public scene, assigning him a role which would otherwise certainly be taken on by
his own son. In 29 BC, the thirteen-year old boy took part, together with Tiberius,
* I would like to thank Dr. Lechosław Olszewski whose valuable remarks have contributed to the
final shape of this article.
¹ In this paper, I am using the term domus Augusta with regard to the imperial family a number
of times. It should be noted, however, that the term actually appeared, expressis verbis, only during
the final years of Augustus’ rule. For the first time found used by Ovid, Pont., 2.2.74, 3.1.135, 4.15.16;
cf. Flory 1996, 287–306; Severy 2003, 214–219; Sajkowski 2004, 369–373.
² Kienast 1996, 70.
³ App., BC, 5.73; Cass. Dio, 48.38.3.
⁴ It should be emphasised here, that Marcellus was also Antonius’ stepson at the same time.
359
360
 
Octavian’s stepson, in his triumph over Dalmatia and Egypt.⁵ e participation
of both youngsters in the ceremony was in line with the republican customs, as
it is known that during the Republic period sons always joined in the celebration
of their father’s triumph.⁶ In this context, it is clear that both adolescents for
the first time appeared in public as Octavian’s “substitute sons”.⁷ In Suetonius’
account, both boys rode horses next to the triumphal chariot. e Roman author
mentions that Marcellus rode on the right-hand side of the quadriga, probably
not without a reason.⁸ An assumption can thus be made, as confirmed by Augustus’ subsequent actions towards both youngsters, that the emperor from the very
beginning clearly favoured his nephew. One of the facts in support of this claim
is Octavian’s decision to pay financial gratification to plebeian children on the
occasion of the triumph only on behalf of Marcellus.⁹ Tiberius’ exclusion from
the initiative evidently aimed at promoting the popularity of Octavian’s nephew
among the poor inhabitants of Rome and winning their hearts was definitely not
an accident.
Augustus’ stay in Hispania between 26 and 25 BC in relation to the campaign
against Cantabri was a good opportunity to present both youngsters to the local
legions. As Cassius Dio reports, aer the end of the military operations the princeps made Marcellus and Tiberius responsible for hosting a show for the soldiers,
which took place in the legions’ camp.¹⁰
e breakthrough moment for Marcellus’ future position was undoubtedly the
year 25 BC when Augustus made him marry the emperor’s only daughter Julia.¹¹
In Augustus’ absence, the wedding ceremony was chaired by Marcus Agrippa in
person.¹²
Some researchers suppose that the event could have been commemorated on
the coins struck in 25 BC on the initiative of proconsul M. Acilius Glabrio, possibly
in Africa.¹³ e obverse shows the head of Augustus and a legend COS. IX, which
indicates the issue date, while the reverse carries the picture of two heads, of a
young man and a young woman facing each other, which some of the researchers
identify as the representation of Marcellus and Julia.¹⁴ We should bear in mind,
⁵ Suet., Tib., 6.4.
⁶ An example could be the triumph of Lucius Aemilius Paullus of 167 BC. Cf. Liv., 45.40.8.
⁷ Deenhofer 2000, 96; Severy 2003, 68.
⁸ Suet., Tib., 6.4.
⁹ Cass. Dio, 51.21.3. See also Deenhofer 2000, 96.
¹⁰ Cass. Dio, 53.26.1.
¹¹ Plut., Marc., 30.6; Suet., Aug., 63; Cass. Dio, 53.27.5. See also Brandt 1995, 7–9; Corbier 1995, 179
and 182; Severy 2003, 68. Barbara Levick (2010, 80) dates the marriage back to 24 BC.
¹² Cass. Dio, 53.27.5.
¹³ It is supposed that he was the governor of the province at the time. Cf. RPC, I, 5415.
¹⁴ Cf. Sutherland 1951, 55; Grant 1954, 27ff; Kienast 1982, 91, n. 97; Deenhofer 2000, 101, n. 75.
  
361
however, that this is only a hypothesis. According to another interpretation, the
coin bears images of Augustus and Octavia.¹⁵
It seems worthwhile to consider here why the princeps made his nephew marry Julia and how that marriage influenced Marcellus’ position within the imperial family. As H. Brandt rightly notices, we have no grounds to assume that
the marriage entailed appointment of Marcellus as Augustus’ successor, either
in a personal or more political sense.¹⁶ It seems more likely that in view of no
prospects for the birth of a male descendant, he hoped mainly that a son would
be born of the marriage of Julia and Marcellus who he could adopt in the future and make his successor.¹⁷ It needs to be pointed out here that the potential
adoption of the son of Julia and Marcellus would obviously not be synonymous
with his designation as the heir to the throne, but would rather indicate appointment of a successor in the private domain. ere can be no doubt that another
important goal of the marriage was to strengthen the ties between the Julian and
Claudian families (domus Iuliorum Claudiorumque) which were intended to form
the core of the imperial family (domus Augusta) built by the emperor. In this
context, the marriage followed the tradition of the Republic when marital knots
between members of the ruling gentes made an important element of their policy. Marrying the emperor’s daughter definitely enhanced Marcellus’ position. As
Augustus’ son-in-law, he formally became the second most important person in
the imperial family aer the princeps.¹⁸ It is worth noting that the newly wedded
couple were also first cousins. In the Roman reality, however, marriages between
the children of siblings were not uncommon and occurred already during the
Republic period,¹⁹ while under the rule of the Julio-Claudian dynasty marriages
between close relatives who were also members of the imperial family became
an everyday practice.²⁰
e belief that Augustus perceived his son-in-law as more than just an instrument for accomplishing his dynastic aspirations (conceiving the potential successor) and planned to introduce him gradually into the political domain, finds
confirmation in the special privileges granted to Marcellus on the princeps’ initiative in 24 BC. According to Cassius Dio, Marcellus was promoted to the senator’s
¹⁵ Cf. RPC, I, 5415; Brandt 1995, 9.
¹⁶ Brandt 1995, 10. Contra Syme 2009, 346; Zanker 1999, 151.
¹⁷ Cf. Corbier 1995, 182; Brandt 1995, 10, n. 51. e subsequent adoption of Gaius and Lucius Caesars by Augustus can confirm this assumption.
¹⁸ Cf. Deenhofer 2000, 96. is does not change the fact, however, that Agrippa continued to be
the right hand of Augustus and, in fact, the second most important person in the state, although in
the domus Augusta hierarchy he was below Marcellus. Agrippa was at the time only the husband
of the emperor’s niece, Marcella.
¹⁹ Cf. Liv., 42.34.2–4; Tac., Ann., 12.6.
²⁰ An example can be the marriage of two close cousins, Drusus the Younger and Livilla and the
marriage of Claudius and Aggripina i.e. an uncle and his niece. Cf. Tac., Ann., 12.5–8; Treggiari
1991, 108–119; Corbier 1995, 179.
362
 
rank and gained the privilege of siing in the senate among the ex-praetors. He
also received a right to candidate for the office of consul 10 years before the minimum legal age required from other candidates to that dignity and was appointed
to the aedile’s office for the following year.²¹ At the same, Tiberius was honoured
— although in a less spectacular way — by being granted a privilege of standing
for any magistracy five years earlier than the customary rules allowed and being
appointed quaestor in 23 BC.²² e comparison of the extent of privileges offered
to both young men is another evidence in favour of the view presented above that
Tiberius clearly remained in the shadow of Marcellus. e undoubtedly most significant privilege awarded to Julia’s husband in 24 BC was the right to stand for
the consulate at an earlier age. Arguably, while granting the privilege to Marcellus, the emperor could see him as his future colleague in the consulate, as was the
case with Agrippa who was Augustus’ co-consul in 28 and 27 BC.²³ e princeps
obviously could not foresee at the time that a year later he would officially resign
from this post and in subsequent years of his reign would only occasionally take
up that role. Needless to say, the granting of the aforesaid privileges to Marcellus
which were intended to speed up his cursus honorum was a great honour which
Augustus reserved mainly for the members of his family.
According to the majority of ancient authors, favouring Marcellus by Augustus and his gradual induction into the public life was the reason of the conflict
between the young man and Agrippa, who finally le Rome in 23 BC.²⁴ Acceptance of this version of events, however, gives rise to serious doubts. First of all,
we cannot be sure that when Agrippa was seing off to the East Marcellus was
still alive and could become the direct cause of Agrippa’s departure. Secondly,
it is hard to believe that Augustus’ conduct towards Marcellus could frustrate
the ambitions of Agrippa who was in fact the princeps’ right-hand and closest
associate, who stood firmly by Octavian from the very beginning of his political career and whose position in the princeps’ milieu was unquestionable. Furthermore, the privileges offered to Marcellus in 24 BC prove that Augustus did
not intend to promote Marcellus to the highest public offices straight away, but
wanted to gradually introduce the young man to the political arena.²⁵ Hence, it
does not seem very likely that Agrippa could treat Augustus’ son-in-law as a
serious competitor for his own position. e perception of Agrippa’s leaving as a
consequence of his rivalry with Marcellus advocated by the majority of ancient
historians obscures, in my opinion, the real reasons for his trip to the East. e
²¹ Cass. Dio, 53.28.3; See also Deenhofer 2000, 96; Severy 2003, 68.
²² Cass. Dio, 53.28.3.
²³ Degrassi 1952, 3.
²⁴ Vell. Pat., 2.93; Plin., NH, 7.149; Suet., Aug., 66.3; Tib., 10.1; Cass. Dio, 53.32.1.
²⁵ Pursuant to the granted exemption, Marcellus could stand for the consulate at the age of 33
which was still a faraway prospect. Cf. Brandt 1995, 11.
  
363
only author who does not mention Marcellus at all in the context of Agrippa’s expedition to the East is Flavius Josephus. e historian clearly states that Agrippa
was delegated to the overseas provinces to rule them on behalf of the emperor.²⁶
Based on Flavius’ account, we can thus assume that the real purpose of Agrippa’s
trip to the East was to resolve a number of issues in that region (the problem with
Parthia, Rome’s relationships with the rulers of the vassal kingdoms, inspection
of the administration system in the provinces).²⁷ As the emperor’s special envoy,
Agrippa was supposed to prepare a proper background for the princeps’ visit to
the East planned in 22 BC.²⁸ It might be the case, that the majority of authors
suggesting an open conflict between Agrippa and Marcellus were inspired by the
subsequent rivalry between Tiberius and the young Caesars, as a result of which
Augustus’ stepson finally withdrew from political activity and seled in Rhodes
in 6 BC. Perhaps the same perspective was projected by them onto the earlier
departure of Agrippa to the East.
e sudden death of Marcellus in 23 BC when he occupied the aedile’s post not
only thwarted Augustus’ plans for the young man but was also a severe heartbreak for the emperor in the personal sense.²⁹ Cassius Dio mentions the rumours
according to which Livia was liable for Marcellus’ death, trying to get rid of the
young man perceived as a serious threat to Tiberius’ position.³⁰ e “Greek” historian, however, has no faith in this version of the events and suspects that Marcellus was most likely one of the many victims of disease which swept Rome in
23 BC.³¹ According to Dio’s account, the princeps honoured the young man with
a public funeral during which he himself delivered the funeral oration (laudatio
funebris), praising the exceptional values and virtues of the deceased. is part
of Marcellus’ funeral ceremony took place in Forum Romanum. Subsequently,
his body was taken to Campus Martius where it was cremated and lain in the
Mausoleum.³² It is worth emphasising that Marcellus was the first member of
the imperial family buried in Augustus’ family tomb. Additionally, a period of
official mourning (iustitium) was declared upon Marcellus’ death.³³ Among the
post-mortem honours granted to Marcellus on Augustus’ initiative, Cassius Dio
mentions the figure of the diseased (imago) made of gold, a gold wreath and a
curule chair (sella curulis) which were supposed to be presented to the public in
²⁶ Ioseph., AI, 15.10.2.
²⁷ e political nature of the mission is also mentioned between the lines by Velleius Paterculus
(2.93).
²⁸ To read more about Agrippa’s mission to the East in 23 BC, see also Magie 1908, 145–152; Roddaz
1984, 319–328; Sawiński 2004, 242–244.
²⁹ Vell. Pat., 2.93; Plut., Marc., 30.6.
³⁰ Cass. Dio, 53.33.4.
³¹ Cass. Dio, 53.33.4–5; See also Kienast 1982, 92.
³² Cass. Dio, 53.30.5; Consol. Liv., 67.
³³ Wesch-Klein 1993, 15 (n. 85) and 92.
364
 
the theatre during Ludi Romani. e curule chair decorated with the wreath, most
likely with the above mentioned imago seated on it, was to be placed among the
chairs of the officials hosting the festival.³⁴ e exhibition of sella curulis during
the celebration was to commemorate Marcellus’ aedileship, the culmination of
which was the organised Ludi Romani.³⁵ anks to Dio, we also learn that another
form of honouring the dead was to give his name to the theatre in Campus Martius, the dedication of which took place most likely in 11 BC.³⁶ Additionally, on
the initiative of Octavia, a Greek and Latin library was erected to commemorate
the deceased.³⁷
Finally, I would like to comment on two questions which give rise to numerous
controversies among the researchers. e first one concerns the alleged adoption
of Marcellus by Augustus, while the other one relates to the question whether the
princeps actually destined Marcellus as his successor. e only source according
to which the emperor adopted his nephew is Plutarch.³⁸ e credibility of the
Greek biographer in this respect, however, is questioned by other sources. Both in
Res Gestae and in the inscriptions from the Mausoleum of Augustus, only the term
gener is used with regard to Marcellus.³⁹ Hence Plutarch was probably mistaken
and the adoption he refers to never took place. It remains an open issue, however,
whether the princeps ever had an idea to adopt his nephew as a son. In this respect
we are doomed to rely on speculations. According to R. Syme, Augustus planned
to adopt Marcellus in 23 BC, however, was finally persuaded against this idea by
people who were close to him, in particular including Agrippa and Livia.⁴⁰ In my
opinion, Syme’s theory is pure fantasy, as we have absolutely no source evidence
that would confirm this hypothesis, even to the slightest extent.
Equally disputable is the perception of Marcellus as the planned successor
of Augustus shared by some of the contemporary researchers.⁴¹ is point of
view is certainly rooted in the picture of Marcellus as presented by the ancient
authors who refer to him, expressis verbis, as the planned heir to the throne.⁴²
Tacitus places him in the same rank of order as Agrippa, the young Caesars and
Tiberius i.e. those members of domus Augusta who the princeps promoted as his
³⁴ Cass. Dio, 53.30.6.
³⁵ Vell. Pat., 2.93; See also Rich 1990, 166–167.
³⁶ Cass. Dio, 53.30.5–6. According to Cassius Dio, the theatre was erected in 13 BC; cf. Cass. Dio,
54.26.1. e contemporary researchers, however, tend to accept Pliny’s dating, according to which
the dedication of the theatre took place in May of 11 BC — Plin., NH, 8.65; cf. inter alia Rich 1990,
204; Kienast 1996, 70.
³⁷ Plut., Marc., 30.6. e library was situated on the grounds of the Portico of Octavia.
³⁸ Plut., Ant., 87.
³⁹ RGDA, 21; Cf. Brandt 1995, 2, n. 9.
⁴⁰ Syme 2009, 372.
⁴¹ Cf. inter alia Syme 2009, 346 and 351; Kienast 1982, 177 and 376, n. 38; Zanker 1999, 151; Boruch
2010, 92 and 149–150; contra Brandt 1995, 1–16; Severy 2003, 69; Simpson 2005, 180–181.
⁴² Vell. Pat., 2.93; Sen., Consol. Polyb., 15; Tac., Hist., 1.15; Cass. Dio, 53.30.2.
  
365
successors.⁴³ Hence, the ancient historians adopt an assumption that from the
very beginning of his reign, Augustus implemented a persistent policy aimed
at promoting a successor who would take over power from him. Personally, I
am of the opinion that this point of view — probably arising from the fact that
the authors wrote about the initial period of the Principate ex post — calls for
a fundamental review.⁴⁴ e early years of Augustus’ rule is mainly the period
of solidifying the princeps’ position in the new political reality and of gradual
formation of the legal foundations for his power. I find it hard to believe that the
emperor would be willing to think about designating anyone as his successor at
that stage, when his own position was not firm yet. It would also be difficult to
imagine the formal aspects of Marcellus nomination as the potential successor,
as the rules of appointment of the heir to the throne were not yet defined at that
time. e very adoption of Marcellus — if such a possibility was actually considered by Augustus at all — would not be equal to granting him the right to the
emperor’s. As an adopted son, Marcellus would be able to inherit upon Augustus’
death his estate, name, political clientele and position in the family, but not his
power and official posts.⁴⁵ We know that in the later period of Augustus’ rule,
appointment of the successor involved assignment of the two basic rights of the
emperor’s power: tribunicia potestas and imperium proconsulare.⁴⁶ Tribunician
power was of particular importance in this context. For Tacitus, granting such a
power was equal to designating the person who obtained it as the successor of
the current princeps.⁴⁷ Marcellus was never granted any of such powers, as we
all know. As a maer of fact, there was even no such possibility since Augustus
obtained the two rights mentioned above, which ultimately defined his legal status as a princeps and which aer 23 BC were granted to the planned successors
probably only aer his nephew’s death, or shortly before. e premature death of
Marcellus does not allow us to answer the question whether he would be among
the imperial family members who would obtain such competences. Summing up,
it can be concluded that we have no grounds to perceive Marcellus as the planned
⁴³ Cf. Tac., Hist., 1.15.
⁴⁴ Cf. Brandt 1995, 4.
⁴⁵ e emperor’s power was not subject to inheritance. e status of the princeps was awarded
aer obtaining the essential prerogatives of the emperor’s power, granted by force of the resolution
of the senate. It is the only characteristic distinguishing the Principate from medieval or modern
monarchies: Cf. Veyne 2008, 9–10.
⁴⁶ Such a model was applied with regard to Agrippa and then Tiberius. Agrippa most likely obtained imperium proconsulare already in 23 BC and in 18 BC was granted the tribunician power.
It was equivalent to Agrippa’s appointment as co-regent by Augustus and his designation as the
princeps’ successor: Cass. Dio, 54.12.4–5; Kienast 1996, 72, Ziółkowski 2004, 364. In AD 4, Tiberius
received tribunicia potestas and in AD 13 he was granted imperium aequum towards the power of
Augustus on the territory of all provinces of the Empire: Vell. Pat., 2.121; Cass. Dio, 55.13.2; Levick
1999, 63. Subsequently, this practice became the main procedure for designating successors to the
throne during the Principate period. Cf. Parsi 1963, 43–52.
⁴⁷ Tac., Ann., 3.56.
366
 
successor to Augustus and no actions on the part of the emperor actually point
to such an intention. us, the question of the princeps’ potential successor, both
in the private and political domain, remained unresolved in the early years of
Augustus reign.
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Brandt H., 1995, Marcellus “successioni praeparatus” ? Augustus, Marcellus und die Jahre 29–23
v. Chr., Chiron 25, 1–17.
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London – New York, 178–193.
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zwisen Res Publica und Domus Augusta, Stugart.
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Zanker P., 1999, August i potęga obrazów, Poznań.
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367
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
IG, II², 236, LEAGUE OF CORINTH
AND THE OLD FRIENDS OF PHILIP II
S S
O
ne of Philip II’s last political actions was to convene a congress of Greek
states at Corinth in the winter of 336/337, which was to lead to the formation of a multilateral federation that historiography calls the League
of Corinth. is act confirmed the Macedonian king’s hegemony in the Greek
world. e problem which has drawn our aention is the question to what extent the new federation affected Philip’s relations with his old allies — the Greek
communities which had found themselves under his influence very early on.
Although the Congress at Corinth and its provisions are mentioned in all
textbooks on the history of the period, the source information about it is quite
scarce. Diodorus presents the events in a way that suggests that the Congress
was convened only in order to declare war on Persia and elect Philip as
commander-in-chief, the strategos autokrator of Greece, and the issue of declaring peace was completely overlooked.¹ Justin shows the events in a slightly different way, mentioning that Philip laid down the terms of peace for the whole
of Greece, established a common Senate and prescribed the numbers of soldiers
to be made available in case of war. Justin also gives us to understand that it
was clear to everybody involved that the preparations were aimed against the
Persians.² is statement, however, indicates that the issue of war against Persia was not formally addressed at the time the federation was created. Plutarch
seems to confirm this version of events in the Life of Phokion.³ According to his
very brief account, the Athenians first had to vote in favour of koine eirene and
the common synedrion together with the other Greek states. As a consequence
of their decision, they were obliged to furnish Philip with a fleet and cavalry.
Plutarch does not in any way suggest that these were to be reinforcements for
war against Persia. e remaining, minor mentions in other sources refer rather
¹ Diod. Sic., 16.89.1–3.
² Iust., 9.5.1–4.
³ Plut., Phoc., 16.4.
369
370
 
vaguely to Philip’s hegemony in Greece, forming the alliance and establishing a
joint synedrion.⁴
When trying to answer questions about Philip’s actions in 337, it is worth
considering Plutarch’s words in the Life of Phokion. ey indicate that the Athenians were unaware of the reason why Philip summoned representatives of Greek
states to Corinth. is conclusion becomes more credible if we take account of
the fact that aer the Bale of Chaeronea Philip established his relations with
Greek states by entering into bilateral agreements with them.⁵ e Congress at
Corinth, therefore, was not so much a natural result of the victory over the Greek
coalition as turning over a new leaf in his relations with the Greek world. It is an
open question what the new value was — whether it was the announcement of
koine eirene, the establishment of a new pan-Hellenic organisation in the form of
a multilateral alliance, or the very fact that an alliance against Persia was formed.⁶
e only sources that might give us the answer to this question only presumably refer to the provisions of the Congress at Corinth. e most important source
is an inscription which historiography sometimes calls the Charter of the League
of Corinth.⁷
e famous inscription consists of two parts, both found at Athens, although
separately and on different sites. e two pieces were put together by Adolf Wilhelm, professor at University of Vienna and a leading figure in research on Athenian inscriptions in the first half of the 20ᵗʰ century. Since the publication of his
study in 1910 it has been customary to treat the two fragments as two parts of the
same document, even though the connection between them is difficult to prove.⁸
e first fragment is a long oath in which the negotiating parties pledge to
keep the peace terms. e pledge not to overthrow the king’s rule and the first
leer of the king’s name strongly suggest that Philip was one of the parties of the
agreement. e extant text also mentions conducting a war and a hegemon. is is
but all the information that can be gathered from the surviving text. Importantly,
it does not contain the words symmaia or koine eirene. Assuming that they
would have to be present in the text, just like other phrases known from various
contemporary treaties, several variants of its restoration have been proposed.⁹
e restoration uses a speech called On the treaty with Alexander, which
was preserved in the collection of Demosthenes’ speeches. Dated to 331 BC, the
⁴ Dem., 18.201; Aesch., 3.123; Pol., 9.33.7; FGrH, 255 F 5; Plut., Mor., 240a–b.
⁵ Roebuck 1948, 73–92.
⁶ For discussion see: Wilcken 1917, 20–40; Ryder 1965, 102–106; Ellis 1976, 204–209; Jehne 1994,
166–180; Rhodes and Osborne 2003, 376–379; Buckler 2003, 511–515; Worthington 2009a, 213–223;
Worthington 2009b, 158–160.
⁷ IG, II², 236 = Tod 1948, 177. I use the edition of that inscription by P.J. Rhodes and R. Osborne
(Greek Historical Inscriptions 404–323 BC, Oxford 2003, 76).
⁸ Wilhelm 1974, 371–425 (New edition of the article from 1910).
⁹ See Tod 1948, 230–231.
, ², 236,          
371
speech referred to Alexander’s renewal of an alliance with Greek cities previously formed by his father. According to the speaker, the treaty opened with the
statement that all Greeks were to be eleutheroi kai autonomoi.¹⁰ If the speaker
faithfully recorded the words used in the treaty, it seems that the emphasis was
put on the Greeks’ relations with Philip, rather than relations among the Greek
city-states.¹¹ e parties entering into the treaty were to renounce war on land
and sea and pledge not to capture cities, ports and fortresses.¹² Ships of all the
states were to be free to sail the seas and no one would have the right to hinder
them or force them to call at a port.¹³ Philip offered all the parties a guarantee
of safety and preserving the status quo in return for the Greek cities pledging
not to aempt to overthrow his and his successors’ royal reign. e proposal
was directed at all the cities but mostly at their leaders, who had already benefited from cooperating with Philip and were happy with the changes that had
occurred under his influence. is is reflected in banning the cities from aempting to introduce a political system different from the one they had at the time of
signing the peace treaty.¹⁴ ose who broke this ban would be treated as enemies
by all the parties of the treaty.¹⁵ e treaty also said that, contrary to the law in
the states, it would be illegal to sentence to death or exile, confiscate property,
partition lands, cancel debts, and liberate slaves.¹⁶ e parties signing the treaty
also pledged not to transgress any of its terms or allow others to do so.¹⁷
e second fragment of the inscription also heavily damaged and only partly
surviving, contains a list of poleis and ethne which probably signed the treaty.
Apart from the scarce readable names, there are also numerals, which probably refer to the number of representatives of a state or a group of states in the
synedrion or perhaps to the number of military units which they would be obliged
to furnish the common army with.
e condition in which the inscriptions have survived and the nature of the
information from literary sources referring to the League of Corinth continuously provoke discussion. It is quite clear that the restoration of the document is
largely based on the assumption that we know what it should contain. A brief
reference to koine eirene in a much later source, i.e. Plutarch’s the Life of Phokion,
led to the conclusion that this term had to have been included in the text of the
inscription. At the same time it was almost automatically assumed that the term,
¹⁰
¹¹
¹²
¹³
¹⁴
¹⁵
¹⁶
¹⁷
[Dem.], 17.8.
[Dem.], 17.4, 8 and 30.
R&O, 76.6–10.
[Dem.], 17.19.
R&O, 76.11–14.
[Dem.], 17.10.
Dem., 17.15.
R&O, 76.14–16.
372
 
which appears in literary sources, is a technical one and was used in documents
at the time. e identification of the inscription as the document agreed on at
Corinth in early 337 BC and establishing Philip’s multilateral alliance with Greek
cities is not without doubt. Neither of the extant fragments clearly indicates so,
nor does it exclude other possibilities. It is surprising that, even though it was
a multilateral treaty, its text has only survived in the one inscription found in
Athens. It cannot, therefore, be completely excluded that the document may refer
to the agreement between Philip and the Athenians, which put an end to the war
between them. It is known that before the Congress at Corinth was convened,
Philip had entered such bilateral agreements with the Greek states.¹⁸
e above remarks show how lile we still know about the formal provisions
of the Congress at Corinth. ere are, however, reasons to conclude that there was
indeed a multilateral alliance, in which Philip’s old and new allies participated. It
is possible to reconstruct with high probability the names such as the essalians
and the Perrhaebians on the fragmentary list of states found on fragment b of the
inscription. Both cases are very interesting for our analysis of the possible change
in Philip’s policy towards his old allies. e former ones were the essalians,
Philip’s enthusiastic and faithful allies, who had invited him to intervene in Greek
affairs. e laer ones were the Perrhaebians, who had become his subjects very
early on.
Prior to the Bale of Chaeronea the essalians had undoubtedly been Philip’s
closest and probably most important allies in Greece. eir alliance had started at
the very beginning of Philip’s reign. For the Macedonian king, it was a continuation of the traditional friendship between his family and the essalian nobility,
particularly the Aleuadae of Larissa, who had ambitions to lead the region. For
Philip, surrounded by enemies, this friendship was priceless. at is why he decided to risk an intervention, in their interests, against Jason of Pherae’s family
and their allies, the Phocians, which almost cost him the throne. e alliance,
however, made it easier for him to enter the main political scene of continental
Greece, which was reflected in being accepted into the Amphictyonic Council after the Sacred War in 346. For the essalian elites, Philip was an aractive ally,
who conclusively put an end to the ambitions of the family from Pherae to build
a strong and more centralised essalian state. e alliance with the Macedonian
king paved the way for strengthening their position in the region and outside its
borders, particularly in Delphi. ese good relations were not ruined either by
the dispute about the fortification of Magnesia occupied temporarily by Philip, or
by his military interventions in essaly itself. Although the laer are sometimes
interpreted as a reflection of change in the king’s policy towards his allies, other
information seems to indicate a continuation of the earlier policy. At the most, we
¹⁸ Worthington 2009a, 219–221.
, ², 236,          
373
may suspect that in the face of a fierce rivalry between the Aleuadae of Larissa
and the family of Jason of Pherae, the families connected with Pharsalos took
the most advantage of the king’s friendship. ey included Kotyphos, who was a
essalians representative in the Delphi Amphictyonic Council in 346–337, and
rasydaos and Daochos II, who were representatives in 336–332. e former was
personally responsible for starting the war against Amphissa, which gave Philip
an opportunity to intervene in central Greece. e other two were also thought
to be the Macedonian king’s friends. In this context, it is not surprising that units
from Pharsalos formed the core of the essalian cavalry fighting at Alexander’s
side during his Asian campaign.
If we reject the frequently made assumption that Philip was elected aron
of the essalian koinon, there is lile to suggest that the monarch wanted to
limit the essalians’ independence or to marginalise their role in relations between Greek states.¹⁹ Although the essalians were given only two seats in the
Amphictyonic Council (restored aer the war against the Phocians ended), their
representatives were named at the top of the list, which may indicate their special position. ey also played an important role in the commiee of the naopes,
one of the bodies of the Delphic Amphictyony that handled the reconstruction
of the Delphi sanctuary. In the extant lists of naopes from 345–323 there are representatives of as many as seven essalian cities: Larissa, Pharsalos, Gyrton,
Pherae, Krannon, Pelinna and Skotoussa.²⁰ is relatively long list may indicate
the essalians’ involvement in the commiee’s work. In the context of this information, the number ten, which appears next to the essalians’ name in the
list of states on fragment b of inscription IG, ²II, 236, is not surprising. is is the
highest number out of all the surviving ones. For comparison, both the Phocians
and the Locrians have the number three. If, as it is assumed, the number referred
to the representatives in the synedrion of the League of Corinth, it would confirm
Philip’s will to ensure that his old allies were properly represented. is is not
surprising, since Philip had no reason to distrust them, as proved by the events of
the previous two years. Perhaps this trust was the basis for his plan to leave the
decisions on Greek maers in the hands of the synedrion of which he was not a
member, but he ensured it had a strong representation of the states that he could
rely on. In this context we can understand the intentions of Alexander, who went
to Larissa aer his father’s death in order to gain the essalians’ support for his
efforts to renew the treaty. Both Diodorus and Justin emphasise that gaining their
backing was key for overtaking the hegemony in the League of Corinth. e essalians remained Alexander’s faithful allies during his campaign in Asia, refusing
¹⁹ For recent discussion see: Harris 1995, 175–176; Helly 1995, 175–176; Buckler 2003, 420, n. 3;
Sprawski 2003, 59–65.
²⁰ Leèvre 1998, 24–29 and 263-264.
374
 
to back the anti-Macedonian coalition organised by Agis. e split only occurred
aer Alexander’s death, probably due to disagreements with Antipater, whose
rule the proud essalian noblemen apparently did not want to recognise.²¹
e case of the Perrhaebians is somewhat different. e inclusion of their
name in the list is particularly intriguing, since they were supposed to have been
under Philip’s direct control for many years. In the speech To Philip, wrien in
352, Isocrates states that the Macedonian king had subordinated the Perrhaebians
and the Magnetes and turned them into hypekooi. is statement led to the conclusion that the Perrhaebians had become Philip’s subjects and their territory had
been annexed to his state.²² If this was indeed the case, the question arises why
they were put on the list together with the other Greek states. If the Congress at
Corinth did indeed renew the koine eirene, the Perrhaebians, like the other Greek
states, had to be allowed to sign the treaty and be covered by its guarantees. is
had to mean that they had retained such a level of independence that it did not
rouse the suspicion of the other Greeks. It is difficult to imagine a situation in
which Philip on the one hand proposed the Greek city-states cooperation under
the League of Corinth and proclaimed their freedom, but on the other hand maintained full control over some of them. According to the above restoration of the
peace terms, the guarantees must have meant that Philip refrained from placing
garrisons in the cities belonging to the signatories of the treaty.
It is debatable whether aer 337 Philip le his garrisons in the cities he had
placed them in. In some cases, e.g. Chalkis, there is no convincing evidence that
a Macedonian garrison was stationed there at the time.²³ It is, however, highly
unlikely, that there were no Macedonian garrisons in the cities of Perrhaebia,
such as Gonnoi, or Goritsa in Magnesia. Still, Philip could have found a clever
way to leave them there without risking accusations. Later history shows that in
special cases it was possible to keep a garrison in the city or fortress belonging to
an ally without formally violating their independence. Polybius recounts such a
case, quoting Philip V.²⁴ When the Aetolians asked him why he kept a garrison in
Lysimacheia, the king answered that his forces were there not in the capacity of a
foreign garrison but guardians protecting the city. A similar distinction between
a garrison and an ally’s assistance is also confirmed in documents preserved in
inscriptions from, among others, Hellenistic Crete. Cities were sometimes grateful to monarchs for sending a military unit to defend them against aacks of
pirates and other enemies.²⁵ If the presence of a foreign garrison was accepted by
²¹ Diod. Sic., 18.4.1; Iust., 11.3.1–2. Westlake 1935, 228–235.
²² Isoc., Philip., 21. Helly 2009, 340–341.
²³ Wallace 1956, 20.
²⁴ Pol., 18.4.6.
²⁵ Chaniotis (2005, 70) also cites other instances when placing a foreign garrison was regarded as
allied help.
, ², 236,          
375
the citizens, at least those of them who wielded power, it could be argued that
their autonomy was not violated. Leaving garrisons in some cities and fortresses could, therefore, have been presented as Philip’s help meant to ensure their
safety. Prior to signing the treaty at Corinth, Philip made sure that the power in
Greek cities was in the hands of people who were favourably disposed towards
him, so it was hardly to be expected that they would protest against Macedonian
garrisons. Moreover, in some cases their presence could have served those in
power to maintain control.
What is much more important is the fact that the Perrhaebians’ name appeared on the list in question. Regardless of whether it was a list of states sending
their representatives to the synderion of the Corinthian League or a list of states
signing a different agreement, the Perrhaebians undoubtedly remained a separate
political entity. is is also confirmed by the fact that the Perrhaebians were also
named among communities that sent their representatives to the Amphictyonic
Council and the commiee of the naopes.²⁶
If IG, II², 236 is a proof of some change in their position, it was a change for
the beer compared to the one described by Isocrates, who called them Philip’s
hypekooi. It is also possible that the term hypekooi, contrary to how it is usually understood, actually did not involve a loss of autonomy. ere was a similar
situation in an earlier period when the Perrhaebians were supposedly under the
essalian control. It seems that in both cases we can only speak about a closer or
looser alliance. It is also possible that only some cities in Perrhaebia were under
direct Macedonian control. is may have been the case of the cities in the north
of the region, sometimes referred to as Tripolis, whereas the remaining ones still
enjoyed autonomy.²⁷
Summing up, regardless of the controversy related to the nature of the decisions made at Corinth in early 337, there are no indications to believe that Philip’s
old allies had lost their position. e role of the Corinthian League was most likely not so much to introduce a completely new quality in the Greek political life,
but to strengthen the already established relations between the Greeks and their
Macedonian hegemon.
Bibliography:
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Chaniotis A., 2005, War in the Hellenistic World, Oxford.
Harris E.M., 1995, Aesines and Athenian Politics, Oxford.
Helly B., 1995, L’État thessalien. Aleuas le Roux les tétrades et les tagoi, Lyon.
Helly B., 2009, La essalie au 3ᵉ siècle av. J.C., in Αρχαιολογικό Ἐργο Θεσσαλίας και Στερεάς
Ελλάδας, 2. Πρακτικά επιστημονικής συνάντησης Βόλος 16.3–19.3.2006, I: Θεσσαλία, Volos,
339–368.
²⁶ Leèvre 1998, 84–86.
²⁷ Sprawski 2009.
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in der Grieisen Poliswelt des 4. Jahrhunderts V. Chr., Stugrat (Hermes Einzelschrien 63).
Perlman S., 1985, Greek Diplomatic Tradition and the Corinthian League of Philip of Macedon,
Historia 34, 153–174.
Rhodes P.J., Osborne R., 2003, Greek Historical Inscriptions 404–323, Oxford.
Roebuck C., 1948, e Selement of Philip II with the Greek States in 338 BC, Classical Philology
43, 73–92.
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Leèvre F., 1998, L’Amphictionie pyléo-delphique: histoire et institutions, Paris.
Momigliano A., 1934, La KOINH EIRHNH dal 386 al 338 a.C, Rivista di filologia e di istruzione classica
12, 482–514.
Sprawski S., 2003, Philip II and the Freedom of the essalians, Electrum 9, 55–66.
Sprawski S., 2005, All the King’s Men. essalians and Philip II’s Designs on Greece, in Society and
Religions. Studies in Greek And Roman History, edited by D. Musiał, I, Toruń, 31–49.
Sprawski S., 2009, essalians and eir Neighbours in the Classical Period, in 1ˢ International
Congress on the History and Culture of essaly. Congress Proceedings, 1–11 November 2006,
Larisa, 131–137.
Tod M., 1948, A Selection of Greek Historical Inscriptions, II, Oxford.
Wallace W.P., 1956, e Euboian League and its Coinage, New York (Numismatic Notes and Monographs 134).
Westlake H.D., 1935, essaly in the Fourth Century B.C., London.
Wilhelm A, 1974, Akademiesrien zur grieisen Insrienkunde (1895–1951), I, Leipzig.
Worthington I, 2009a, IG II² 236 and Philip’s Common Peace of 337, in Greek History and Epigraphy.
Essays in Honour of P.J. Rhodes, edited by L. Mitchell and L. Rubinstein, Swansea, 213–223.
Worthington I., 2009b, Philip II of Macedonia, New Haven – London.
STUDIA LESCO MROZEWICZ
ab amicis et discipulis dedicata
SAINT PAUL ET MACEDONIUS OU LA LUTTE
POUR LE TRÔNE DE L’ÉVÊQUE DE CONSTANTINOPLE
SOUS LE RÈGNE DE CONSTANCE II
D S
D
ans la première moitié du IVe siècle, la chrétienté subit un nouveau morcellement¹. Paradoxalement, ceci eut lieu à l’époque où le christianisme
devint tout d’abord une religion admise, et plus tard, dominante dans
l’Empire romain². Les raisons en étaient très diverses, par ex. : les règlements
des persécutions ou les controverses de nature doctrinale³. Malgré les différences
ci-dessus mentionnées, la plupart des nouvelles fractions étaient conscientes de
leur appartenance à l’Église catholique. Le clergé et les fidèles appartenant aux
communautés des donatistes, des novatiens, des mélitiens, ou au camp antinicéen
entendu au sens large, continuaient toujours à se considérer comme membres
souvent uniques, de l’Église du Christ⁴. Les divisions étaient visibles surtout à
l’Est de l’Empire et dans de grandes villes comme : Alexandrie, Antioche, Carthage, Constantinople, Éphèse, Milan, Nicomédie ou Rome⁵. Parmi les métropoles
énumérées, d’une importance politique particulière jouissaient les sièges impé¹ Ath., HA, 1–3 ; Ruf., HE, 1.1–2 ; Epiph., Haer., 68–69 ; Soz., 1.15 ; Barnes 1981, 201–207 et 224–225 ;
Bralewski 2000, 427–447 ; Brandt 2006, 74–79 ; Clark 2004, 30–34 ; Crouzel 2002, 234–237 ; Frend 1985,
141–187 ; Girardet 2006, 145–146 ; Hanson 1988, 252–260 ; Kopecek 1979, 3–56 ; Kriegbaum 1986,
118–157 ; Pelikan 2008, 103–126 et 179–203 ; Piganiol 1972, 32–37 et 45–47 ; Myszor 2000, 449–451 ;
Slusser 1993, 3–7 ; Słomka 2007, 45–89 ; Vaggione 2000, 47–69 ; Wiles 1993, 40 ; 1996, 27–34.
² Ath., AA, 1 ; Barnes 1981, 191–196 ; 1993, 176–177 ; Berkhof 1947, 45–80 ; Brandt 2006, 80–132 ;
Bowersock 1990, 6–7 ; Clark 2004, 94–96 ; Demandt 1989, 461–465 ; Fowden 1993, 34, 47, 80–81 et
85–93 ; Girardet 2006, 48–59 ; Leszka 2000, 12–13 et 16–20 ; Milewski 1998, 415–420 ; Pavan 1988,
2–10 ; Stachura 2000, 22 et 143 ; Wilken 1984, 165 ; Veyne 2009, 88–103.
³ Hil., FH, B 2.1 et 5 ; Soc., 1.5–6 ; Soz., 1.15–17 et 20 ; Barnes 1981, 58–61 et 201 ; Baslez 2009,
280–406 ; Bowersock 1995, 2–3 ; Bralewski 2000, 429–446 ; Clark 2004, 38–59 ; Kriegbaum 1986,
100–149 ; Löhr 1993, 81–83 ; Lyman 1993, 55–56 ; Pietras 2007, 117 ; Słomka 2007, 90–108 ; Simonei
1975, 26–27 ; 2003a ; 2003b, 257–266 ; Slusser 1993, 4–8 et 10–11 ; Williams 2001, 32–41 ; Wipszycka
1994, 105–123.
⁴ Soz., 1.24, 2.18 et 21 ; Barnes 1981, 201–203 ; Boularand 1972, 14–18 ; Bralewski 2000, 430 ; Brennecke 1988, 5–13 ; Clark 2004, 97 ; Frend 1985, 1–24 et 48–59 ; Kannengiesser 1985, 73–75 ; Myszor
2000, 448–449 ; Neymeyr 1989, 129–131 ; Sesboüé 1999, 212–214 ; Simonei 1975, 46–55, 60–66, 75–76,
85–87, 153–160, 163 et 169–175 ; Williams 1985, 16–17 ; 2001, 38–41 ; Wipszycka 1994, 158–159 et
178–203.
⁵ Barnes 1981, 201–207 ; Boularand 1972, 10–21 ; Clark 2004, 98–100 ; Leszka 2000, 14 et 22–27 ;
Piganiol 1972, 6–13 et 17–20 ; Studer 2003a ; Vaggione 2000, 12 ; Wipszycka 1994, 55–76.
377
378
 
riaux à savoir Antioche, Milan, Constantinople, Nicomédie et Rome⁶. L’importance de la nouvelle capitale de l’Empire romain d’Orient fondée par Constantin Iᵉʳ sur le Bosphore grandissait très rapidement⁷. Bien qu’à sa création des rites
traditionnels religieux aient été utilisés et sur son territoire des temples païens
aient été construits, la ville est pourtant très vite devenue une ville chrétienne⁸.
Ce procès était lié en partie au séjour à cet endroit-là de la cour impériale et des
gens liés à l’administration impériale qui essayaient de deviner tous les désirs du
souverain y compris ceux religieux⁹. Par ailleurs, les alentours de Constantinople
et les régions de l’Asie Mineure comme : Pont, Bithynie ou Cappadoce, appartenaient aux régions les plus chrétiennes de l’Empire romain¹⁰. Les habitants de
ces régions influaient dans la nouvelle capitale de l’Empire à la recherche d’un
travail et d’une carrière meilleurs, y compris celle spirituelle.
Le premier évêque de Constantinople devint Alexandre qui en tant que successeur de Métrophane était tout d’abord l’évêque de Byzance, pour, après la
transformation de cee ville, devenir pasteur de la capitale impériale¹¹. Il s’est
fait connaître en tant qu’adversaire d’Arius¹². Il reçut ce nom parce que selon
les historiens antiques de l’Église, il s’opposait à la volonté de Constantin Iᵉʳ qui
aendait de ce prêtre alexandrin sa réintégration à la communauté de l’église
de Constantinople, ce qui devait être une étape de sa totale réhabilitation, aussi
sur le Nil¹³. L’événement entier lié à la mort d’Arius donne pourtant l’impression
d’être un topos représentant la fin de l’hérésiarque comme la punition de Dieu
pour ses péchés¹⁴. L’aitude prise dans cee affaire par l’évêque de Constantinople contemporain de ces événements éveille aussi des doutes¹⁵. Il n’est pas sûr
⁶ Barnes 1993, 35 ; La Roca 1993, 560–582 ; Leszka 2000, 27 ; Wipszycka 1994, 164.
⁷ Philost., HE, 2.9 ; Soc., 1.16 ; Zos., 2.30 ; Brandt 2006, 136–144 ; Dassmann 1996, 61–62 ; Janiszewski
2008, 15–16 ; La Roca 1993, 553–582 ; Leszka 2000, 27 ; Pavan 1988, 6 ; Piganiol 1972, 55–56.
⁸ An. Val., Orig., 6.30 : Constantinus autem ex 〈se〉 Byzantium Constantinopolim nuncupavit ob
insignis victoriae 〈memoriam〉. quam velut patriam cultu decoravit ingenti et Romae desideravit aequari, deinde quaesitis et undique civibus divitias multas largitus est, ut prope in ea omnes thesauros
et regias facultates exhauriret ; Soc., 1.16 ; Soz., 2.3 ; Zos., 2.31 ; Bonamente 1988, 110–111 ; Bowersock 1990, 38–39 ; Brandt 2006, 144 ; Dassmann 1996, 62–63 ; Janiszewski 2008, 16–21 ; La Roca 1993,
551–562 ; Leszka 2000, 27 ; Pavan 1988, 6–7 ; Piganiol 1972, 53–54, Simonei 1975, 124 ; Vaggione
2000, 8, 13.
⁹ Ruf., HE, 1.7–8 et 12 ; Soc., 1.25 ; Soz., 2.2–3, 22 et 27 ; Brandt 2006, 144 ; Leszka 2000, 27.
¹⁰ Dassmann 1996, 88–90 ; Leszka 2000, 27 ; Piganiol 1972, 17–18 ; Vaggione 2000, 12–13.
¹¹ Phot., Bibl., 88 : dit que Alexandre en tant que presbytère représentait l’évêque Métrophane au
Concile de Nicée ; Soc., 1.37 ; Soz., 2.29 ; Barnes 1981, 242 ; 1993, 35 ; Dvornik 1958, 245 ; 1985, 77 ;
Hanson 1988, 265 ; Wipszycka 1994, 73 ; EK, I, 324 (H. Wojtyska, s.v. Aleksander św.).
¹² Soc., 1.37 ; Soz., 2.29 ; eod., HE, 1.4 ; Barnes 1981, 242 ; Piganiol 1972, 67 ; Simonei 1975, 132 ;
EK, I, 324 (H. Wojtyska).
¹³ Phot., Bibl., 88 ; Soc., 1.37 ; Soz., 2.29 ; Barnes 1981, 242 ; Girardet 2006, 144 ; Hanson 1988, 265 ;
Simonei 1975, 128–134 ; Williams 2001, 80–81.
¹⁴ Phot., Bibl., 88 ; Ruf., HE, 1.14 ; Soc., 1.38 ; Soz., 2.30 ; RAC, I, 648 (G. Gentz, s.v. Arianer) ; Hanson
1988, 265 ; Kosiński 2008, 31 et 61 ; Szafrański 2004a, 130 ; Williams 2001, 81 ; Wipszycka 1994, 314.
¹⁵ Soc., 1.37 ; Soz., 2.29 ; Williams 2001, 80.
   
379
si ses réactions n’étaient pas décrites seulement dans les sources et elles ne reflétaient pas la réalité. Est discutable même le fait de savoir lequel des évêques de
Constantinople s’opposa en fin de comptes au retour d’Arius à l’Église, si c’était
Alexandre, ou son successeur Paul¹⁶. Alexandre mourut en 335 ou en 336 et la date
de la mort d’Arius tombe à la même époque¹⁷. Rufin d’Aquilée, Socrate le Scolastique, Hermias Sozomène et éodoret de Cyr se prononcent tous pour la version
selon laquelle c’était Alexandre qui s’était opposé à la volonté de Constantin¹⁸.
Puisque la vie et la carrière de Socrate et de Sozomène étaient liées à la ville
impériale sur le Bosphore, à la différence de Rufin et de éodoret, le manque
d’informations précises au sujet de la personne de pasteur catholique de cee
ville au moment de le réconciliation religieuse planifiée avec Arius étonne, d’autant plus qu’ils décrivent les événements qui ont lieu dans la capitale même de
l’Empire. Dans cee situation-là, la mort d’Arius à Constantinople semble l’unique fait sûr¹⁹.
Nous savons aussi qu’après la mort de l’évêque Alexandre, il y eut une rivalité acharnée entre les deux clergés qui prétendaient au trône d’évêque devenu
vacant²⁰. Socrate affirme que c’étaient d’un côté, le présbytre Paul, se distinguant
par son travail dans son diocèse et de l’autre, Macedonius connu de sa particulière piété²¹. C’est qu’il y a de surprenant dans cee affaire, ce qu’a gagné celui
¹⁶ Philost., HE, 2.11 : croit que le successeur d’Alexandre était directement Eusèbe de Nicomédie ;
Soc., 1.37 ; T. D. Barnes (1981, 242) affirme que c’était Alexandre qui ne voulait pas réinégrer Arius ;
R. P. C. Hanson (1988, 280) considère que Paul devint évêque probablement en 332 ; A. Piganiol
(1972, 67) pense que c’était Alexandre qui s’était opposé à la réintégration d’Arius à la communauté ; J. Naumowicz (EK, XI, 682, s.v. Macedoniusz I ), croit que Paul était l’évêque de Constantinople
depuis 335 ; M. Simonei (1975, 132–134, n. 104) suppose que Paul était cet évêque ; T. Szafrański
(2004b) dit que Paul devint évêque en 336 ; J.M. Szymusiak et M. Starowieyski (1971, 320) considèrent que c’était Paul qui s’opposait au retour d’Arius à l’Église ; R. Williams (2001, 80) croit que
Alexandre était cet évêque.
¹⁷ Phot., Bibl., 88 ; Ruf., HE, 1.14 ; Soc., 1.38, 2.6 ; Soz., 2.30 ; eod., HE, 1.14 ; T.D. Barnes (1981,
242) affirme que Arius mourut en 336 ; 1993, 35 : dit que Alexandre, l’évêque de Constantinople
mourut en été, en 337 ; W. Ceran (2002, 50) croit que Arius mourut en 336. Il dit aussi que cela s’est
passé la veille de son audience solenelle chez Constantin ; G. Gentz (1950, 648) pense que Arius
mourut en 335 ; R.P.C. Hanson, (1988, 265, n. 106) considère que Alexandre mourut en 330, par
contre, Arius mourut en 335 ou bien en 336 ; J. Naumowicz (EK, XI, 682) dit que Paul, le successeur
d’Alexandre était évêque depuis 335 ; J. Pelikan (2008, 395) opte pour 336 comme la date de la mort
d’Arius ; H. Pietras (2000, 345) admet que Arius mourut en 336 ; A. Piganiol (1972, 91) affirme que
Alexandre mourut en 336 ; B. Sesboüé (1999 224) se penche pour 336 en tant que la date de la mort
de l’hérésiarque ; M. Simonei (1975, 134) considère que Arius mourut en 335 ; T. Szafrański (2004a,
130) dit que Arius mourut en 336 ; P.M. Szewczyk (2010, 43) croit que Arius mourut un an après
le Concile de Tyr, ou en 336 ; J.M. Szymusiak et M. Starowieyski (1971, 320) considèrent que Paul
devint évêque en 337 ; R. Williams (2001, 79–80) date la mort d’Arius de 336 ; E. Wipszycka (1994,
73), affirme inopinément que l’évêque Alexandre mourut en 338 ; H. Wojtyska (EK, I, 324) pense
que Alexandre mourut en 336 ou en 337.
¹⁸ Ruf., HE, 1.14 ; Soc., 1.37–38 ; Soz., 2.29–30 ; eod., HE, 1.14.
¹⁹ Soc., 1.38 ; Soz., 2.30 ; Barnes 1981, 242 ; Ceran 2002, 50 ; Gliściński 1992, 47 ; Hanson 1988, 265.
²⁰ Ath., HA, 7 ; Soc., 2.6 ; Soz., 3.3 ; Barnes 1981, 263–264 ; 1993, 36 ; EK, XI, 682 (J. Naumowicz) ;
Wipszycka 1994, 73.
²¹ Soc., 2.6 ; Soz., 3.3 ; Barnes 1993, 36 ; EK, XI, 682 (J. Naumowicz).
380
 
qui était défini comme meilleur administrateur, c’est-à-dire Paul, et non pas Macedonius, plus pieux. Il est possible d’ailleurs que la caractéristique de ce dernier,
qui se réère aux traits personnels d’Arius qui était lui aussi connu de sa piété,
peut être une forme de topos montrant la chute morale des hérétiques depuis la
sainteté initiale jusqu’à la damnation définitive²². Sozomène qui relate souvent les
événements empruntant la voie tracée par Socrate, cee fois-ci, décrit pourtant
contrairement à ce dernier les antagonistes se combaant mutuellement²³. Dans
sa rélation, c’est Paul qui est plus pieux et Macedonius est un meilleur organisateur²⁴. C’est qu’au moins, selon Sozomène aestaient les partisans de Paul. Par
contre, ses adversaires donnaient eux aussi l’argumentation citée par l’historien
ci-dessus, semblable à celle présentée par Socrate²⁵. Il résulte des topos liéraires
qui apparaissaient alors qu’il n’était plus convenable à un prétendant au trône
d’évêque d’être moins pieux que son rival, bien que la piété trop fervente commençât à être suspecte.
Le mouvement théologique soutenu par les deux prétendants à l’office d’évêque n’est pas certain non plus. Socrate dit que Paul était chef spirituel d’un
groupe de fidèles qui optaient pour la « consubstantialité » et Macedonius était
lié aux ariens²⁶. Ce n’est pourtant pas aussi évident que cela. Dans la capitale
de l’Empire dont le souverain soutenait officiellement les décisions doctrinales
de Nicée et où Arius lui-même devait respecter sa volonté dans cee question,
les prétendants à l’office d’évêque devaient être prudents. Tous les deux se prononçaient publiquement pour le credo de Nicée, soutenu par Constantin Iᵉʳ. Il
était difficile d’avoir un avis différent de celui du souverain, prétendant à exercer
l’honneur d’évêque au siège impérial, ce qui ne veut pas dire pour autant que
leurs convictions intimes correspondaient à leurs déclarations publiques.
Nous savons par exemple que Paul, élu nouvel évêque de Constantinople prit
part au concile, convoqué à Tyr en 335 par Constantin Iᵉʳ, lequel, selon les intentions de l’empereur devait résoudre le cas d’Athanase, l’évêque d’Alexandrie²⁷. La
participation à ce concile-là, dominée par les eusébiens, ne menait pas aux obligations doctrinales mais provoquait sans doute que Paul était alors considéré plutôt comme partisan du camp antiniceén²⁸. Il y a encore une probabilité, appuyée
²² Soc., 1.5.
²³ Soz., 3.3.
²⁴ Soz., 3.3.
²⁵ Soc., 2.6 ; Soz., 3.3.
²⁶ Soc., 2.6 ; Barnes 1993, 36 ; Gliściński 1992, 57 ; Gołgowski 2004, 132 ; Hanson 1988, 280–281 ;
EK, XI, 682 (J. Naumowicz) ; Piganiol 1972, 91 ; Seiler 1998, 47–48 ; Vaggione 2000, 10 et 76, n. 254 ;
Wipszycka 1994, 73.
²⁷ Ath., AA, 3–19 ; Eus., VC, 4.41–42 ; Philost., HE, 2.10 ; Hil., FH, A 4.13 (57) ; Ruf., HE, 1.17–18 ; Soc.,
1.28–32 ; Soz., 2.25 ; eod., HE, 1.29–30 ; Barnes 1993, 22–23 et 170 ; Bralewski 1997, 27–28 et 84–85 ;
1998, 351 ; Dassmann 1996, 71–73 ; Girardet 2006, 146 ; Hanson 1988, 265 (n. 106), 280 ; Simonei
1975, 124–128 et 133, n. 104 ; Szewczyk 2010, 43, n. 141 ; Williams 2001, 78 ; Winkelmann 1991, 55.
²⁸ Bralewski 1997, 85 ; Hanson 1988, 280 ; Simonei 1975, 132–133, n. 104.
   
381
sur la connaissance d’un fait, de la pagaille qui régnait dans les documents du
concile de cee époque-là, à savoir que Paul n’était que représentant de l’évêque
Alexandre au Concile de Tyr. Ceci ne change pourtant pas le fait que l’appui des
sanctions à l’encontre d’Athanase chargerait dans ce cas non pas seulement la
personne de Paul, mais aussi son supérieur d’alors, l’évêque de Constantinople.
Le soutien de la damnation d’Athanase serait incompatible avec le respect des
principes doctrinaux de Nicée. Athanase, continuateur de la position doctrinale
de son prédécesseur en Alexandrie qui s’appelait Alexandre, était le symbole de
la lue contre l’enseignement d’Arius. Il serait difficile pourtant de s’aendre
que devînt évêque quelqu’un qui ne respectait pas les principes de la politique
religieuse de l’empereur dans une ville de plus en plus importante sur le Bosphore. À la fin du règne de Constantin Iᵉʳ, elle était claire : le soutien du credo
de Nicée, avec en même temps, une entente avec les adversaires de Nicée. Ceux
qui ne l’acceptaient pas devaient partir comme Athanase. Il semblait que Paul qui
au cours des débats du Concile de Tyr avait appuyé une telle position du souverain, réaliserait la direction de la politique religieuse tracée à la fin du règne de
Constantin Iᵉʳ²⁹.
La mort du fondateur de Constantinople qui eut lieu le 22 mai 337 a pourtant changé la situation politique et religieuse dans lesquelles Paul agissait³⁰. Le
pouvoir dans l’État a été partagé entre trois fils de l’empereur défunt : Constantin II, Constance II et le plus jeune, Constant Iᵉʳ³¹. Constance II, qui soutenait
les adversaires de Nicée, prit le pouvoir dans la capitale sur le Bosphore et en
Orient, et en Occident et au Centre, favorables aux canons du concile, ses frères
ont partagé le pouvoir³². En conséquence de ces changements politiques, Paul
s’est trouvé dans une position désavantageuse parce que le souverain de l’Orient
de l’Empire n’optait plus, comme c’était dans le cas de Constantin Ier , pour le
credo de Nicée ni pour ses confesseurs même s’ils s’étaient coupés d’Athanase.
C’était différent en cas d’accusations morales. Ici, le fondateur de Constantinople
était intransigeant. Il est possible que cela fut la cause du premier exil de Paul
²⁹ Bralewski 1997, 85 ; Girardet 2006, 146 ; Hanson 1988, 280 ; Pelikan 2008, 216 et 218.
³⁰ An. Val., Orig., 6.35 : Item Constantinus cum bellum pararet in Persas in suburbano Constantinopolitano villa publica iuxta Nocomediam dispositam bene rem bublicam filiis tradens 〈diem obiit〉 ;
Philost., HE, 2.16 et 18 ; Soc., 1.39 ; Soz., 2.34 ; eod., HE, 1.34 ; Amerise 2005, 15 ; Barnes 1981, 260 ;
1993, 34 ; Brandt 2006, 157 ; Dassmann 1996, 73 ; Demandt 1989, 465 ; Hanson 1988, 265 ; Vaggione
2000, 67.
³¹ Ath., HA, 1.8 ; Philost., HE, 2.16 ; Soc., 2.2 ; Soz., 2.34 ; Barnes 1981, 261 ; 1993, 34–35 ; Barceló
1981, 23, 59 ; Čeśka 1983, 45 ; Dassmann 1996, 64 ; Hanson 1988, 265 ; Seiler 1998, 19, 204 ; Simonei
1975, 136 ; Vaggione 2000, 67.
³² An. Val., Orig., 6.35 ; Soz., 3.18 ; Barceló 1981, 23 et 96 ; Barnes 1981, 263 ; 1993, 35 ; Dassmann
1996, 64–66 et 73 ; Demandt 1989, 88 ; Hanson 1988, 265–266 ; Pietras 2000, 360–361 ; Seiler 1997, 48 ;
Simonei 1975, 136 ; Spychała 2007, 52–54 et 63–66 ; Studer 2003b, 348 ; Vaggione 2000, 67 et 153.
382
 
qui eut lieu en 337, peut-être encore durant la vie de Constantin Ier ³³. Sozomène
affirme que Paul était accusé de mener un mode de vie inconvenable et ceci en
était la cause³⁴. De telles rumeurs auraient été véhiculées par les partisans de
Macedonius. Si, par contre, cet exil eut lieu déjà sous le règne de Constance II,
cee décision était probablement le résultat des efforts de l’impératrice, la fille
de Jules Constance et des eunuques de la cour qui d’après Sozomène soutenaient
l’enseignement d’Arius³⁵. Les raisons de la perte de la bienveillance de la cour impériale de l’évêque de Constantinople d’alors ne sont pourtant pas bien éclaircies.
Meant à part les affaires de mœurs, lesquelles, entre parenthèse, étaient souvent
pour les deux parties de la controverse, un moyen commode de se débarrasser
de leurs adversaires, les raisons en sont les suivantes. Si Paul était l’évêque de
Constantinople depuis déjà quelques années, il pouvait en effet s’agir des sympathies pro-nicéennes. Par contre, si les sources selon lesquelles il fut élu évêque
de la capitale de Constance II après la mort de ce souverain, étaient véridiques,
le manque de consultation de cee élection avec le nouvel empereur et sa cour
en pouvait être la cause. Comme nous savons, Constance II était convaincu qu’il
remplissait, c’est que B. Studer appelle la « mission divine » à l’égard des chrétiens
et des païens et en plus, il montrait un grand intérêt à la thématique théologique
et aurait pu considérer cee élection comme un affront personnel³⁶.
En tous cas, grâce à l’intervention du frère de Constance, Constantin II, l’évêque de Constantinople exilé retourna à sa capitale, pour, peu de temps après,
être de nouveau destitué, cee fois-ci avec l’acceptation des hiérarques convoqués au concile par l’empereur³⁷. La dépositon de Paul provoqua à la fin de 338
ou, au début de 339 la nomination à l’office jusqu’alors vacant, de l’évêque de Nicomédie d’alors et en même temps chef spirituel de l’une des fractions du camp
antinicéen, dite eusébiens, Eusèbe³⁸. Il en résulte qu’il changea un évêché qui
incluait dans son territoire la résidence impériale, lequel devint successivement
aussi le siège du souverain qui aspirait au rôle de la capitale de tout l’Empire. La
position du nouvel évêque de Constantinople était d’autant plus importante que
³³ Ath., HA, 1.8 : a été exilé à Pont ; Soc., 2.7 ; Barnes 1993, 36 ; Bralewski 1997, 85 ; Hanson 1988,
266 (n. 109), 280 ; Milewski 1999, 377.
³⁴ Soz., 3.3.
³⁵ Soz., 3.1 ; Barnes 1981, 70, 227 ; PLRE, I, 226 (s.v. Iulius Constantius 7) ; Leszka 2000, 101 ; Seiler
1998, 122–129 ; Spychała 2007, 254.
³⁶ Soz., 3.4 ; Barnes 1993, 35–36 ; Studer 2003, 348.
³⁷ Ath., HA, 1.8 : exilé à Singara en Mésopotamie ; Philost., HE, 2.18 ; Hil., FH, A 4.1 et 10 ; Soc., 2.7 ;
Soz., 3.2 et 4 ; Barnes 1993, 36, 46 et 56 ; Bralewski 1997, 85 ; Dassmann 1996, 73 ; Gliściński 1992, 53 ;
Hanson 1988, 265–266 et 280–281 ; Milewski 1999, 377 ; Seiler 1997, 47 ; Simonei 1975, 138 ; Spychała
2007, 64.
³⁸ Ath., HA, 1.7 ; Philost., HE, 2.16 ; Soc., 1.6 et 14 ; 2.2 et 7–8 ; Soz., 3.4 ; eod., HE, 1.21 ; Barnes 1981,
262–263 ; 1993, 36–37 ; Dassmann 1996, 73 ; A. Demandt (1989, 88) croit que Eusèbe de Nicomédie
devint l’évêque de Constantinople en 338 ; Gliściński 1992, 53 ; Hanson 1988, 266–268 et 281 ; Seiler
1997, 47 ; Simonei 1975, 139 et 141 ; Spychała 2007, 36–37 sur les eusébiens, 223 ; Vaggone 2000,
71–72 : sur les eusébiens ; Wipszycka 1994, 73.
   
383
c’était lui à baptiser Constantin mourant³⁹. L’alliance à la famille impériale n’y
était pas un obstacle non plus⁴⁰. Finalement, Eusèbe redevint conseiller religieux
de l’empereur parce qu’il exerçait déjà cee fonction auparavant, à la cour de
Constantin Iᵉʳ⁴¹.
R.P. Vaggione est d’avis que Macedonius, en tant qu’ami et protégé d’Eusèbe
de Nicomédie, était prévu pour son successeur⁴². Était-ce vrai ? Le rival de Paul
aurait pu se sentir blessé par l’omission de sa personne après la destitution de
l’évêque d’alors. En plus, il semble que les positions théologiques d’Eusèbe de
Nicomédie et de Macedonius étaient différentes l’une de l’autre⁴³. Malgré cela,
sous le nouvel évêque, Macedonius travaillait sur le territoire de son diocèse gagnant de nouvelles connaissances et de nouveaux partisans. Sachant quels étaient
les intérêts politiques et l’engagement d’Eusèbe dans les différends religieux et les
jeux à la cour, il est fort probable qu’il pouvait aussi en absence de cet hiérarque
prendre part à l’administration de l’église de Constantinople.
La situation de Paul était différente. Finalement, il se trouva comme exilé
dans l’Empire d’Occident où il a été accueilli par l’empereur Constant et l’évêque de Rome Jules Iᵉʳ⁴⁴. Le Concile convoqué en 341 à la ville sur le Tibre
soutenait l’évêque exilé mais son retour à Constantinople n’était pas possible
à cee époque-là⁴⁵. La situation a changé en 341, l’année de la mort d’Eusèbe de
Nicomédie⁴⁶. Dès que Paul l’a apprise, au début de 342, il retourna à sa capitale
épiscopale⁴⁷. Ceci a provoqué des troubles dans la communauté de l’église de
Constantinople parce que les partisans de l’exilé l’ont accueilli avec joie considérant qu’il était toujours leur pasteur et les adversaires de Nicée regroupés à
³⁹ Eus., VC, 4.62 ; Hier., Chron., s.a. 337 : Constantinus extremo uitae suae tempore ab Eusebio Nocomedensi episcopo baptizatus in Arrianum dogma declinat ; Soc., 1.39 ; Soz., 2.34 ; eod., HE, 1.34 ;
Amerise 2005, 17–119 ; Brandt 2006, 157 et 161, 163 ; Gliściński 1992, 48 ; Pietras 2000, 352 et 361 ;
Spychała 2007, 52 ; Williams 1993, 149–180.
⁴⁰ Amm. Marc., 14.27–28 ; 22.9.4 ; Ath., HA, 1.5 ; Soc., 2.7 ; Soz., 3.5 ; eod., HE, 1.19 ; Leszka 2000,
36 et 101 ; Piganiol 1972, 123–125 ; Simonei 1975, 103 ; Spychała 2007, 84 et 222–223.
⁴¹ Gliściński 1992, 25 ; Leszka 2000, 101 ; Spychała 2007, 51, 54 et 223.
⁴² Barnes 1993, 36 ; Hanson 1988, 281 ; Vaggione 2000, 9–10.
⁴³ Barnes 1993, 36 ; Gołgowski 2004, 132 ; EK, XI, 682 (J. Naumowicz) ; Spychała 2007, 36–39 et
42–43 ; Wiles 1993, 33 et 39.
⁴⁴ Hil., FH, A 4.1.11 ; Lib. Pont., 36.1–4 ; Soz., 3.7–8 ; eod., HE, 2.5 ; Barnes 1993, 50–54, 57–62 et
171 ; Dassmann 1996, 73 ; Demandt 1989, 88 ; Gliściński 1992, 53 ; Hanson 1988, 269–270 ; Leszka 2000,
32 ; Simonei 1975, 144.
⁴⁵ Barnes 1981, 265 ; Bralewski 1997, 29 ; Dassmann 1996, 73–74 ; Gliściński 1992, 55 ; Simonei
1975, 146–153.
⁴⁶ Soz., 3.7 ; Chadwick 2004, 138 ; J. Gliściński (1992, 57) croit que Eusèbe mourut à la fin de 341
ou au début de 342 ; R.P.C. Hanson (1988, 281) pense que la mort d’Eusèbe eut lieu à la fin de
341 ou au début de 342 ; A. Piganiol (1972, 92) considère que Eusèbe mourut en 342 ; Seiler 1998, 47 ;
M. Simonei (1975, 159) dit que Eusèbe mourut après le Concile d’Antioche de 341/342 ; D. Spychała
(2007, 101) affirme qu’il mourut en 341.
⁴⁷ Soc., 2.12 ; Soz., 3.7 ; Hanson 1988, 281 ; Piganiol 1972, 91–92 ; Seiler 1998, 48 ; Simonei 1975, 162
et 175.
384
 
l’église qui portait paradoxalement le nom de « Paul », élurent Macedonius leur
évêque⁴⁸. Cee élection était une élection spontanée, sans consultation avec la
cour impériale, comme il résulte des événements successifs. Il faudrait pourtant
réfléchir au fait si cee situation dans le diocèse avait beaucoup de choses en
commun avec les divisions doctrinales débutées par l’enseignement d’Arius et
le Concile de Nicée. Nous pouvons déduire que la rivalité entre deux candidats
charismatiques dans la course à un office pouvait initialement suffire pour faire
réchauffer l’atmosphère. Ensuite, une polarisation des opinions aurait pu avoir
lieu et seulement à ce moment-là, des différences doctrinales ont apparu. En tout
cas, Constantinople avait suite à cee élection deux évêques dans le même diocèse auxquels étaient soumis les mêmes fidèles. C’était une situation absolument
incompatible avec les coutumes et les lois de l’église.
Cee fois-ci, les pouvoirs ont décidé de réagir rapidement, d’autant plus que
la plupart des églises de la ville étaient occupées par les partisans de Paul⁴⁹.
Constance II donna l’ordre à Hermogène, magister equitum, de réprimer les
troubles et de destituer l’évêque Paul de son poste⁵⁰. À la suite des émeutes qui
ont déclenché en ville, la situation a échappé au contrôle des pouvoirs et Hermogène lui-même a été lynché par la foule d’habitants de la capitale⁵¹. Un problème
religieux devint soudainement un événement politique. Constance II inquiet, arriva d’Antioche à Constantinople où il a démissionné Paul de son poste et l’a
condamné à l’exil. Macedonius n’a pas conservé son poste non plus et pour la
tentative de prise du pouvoir dans le diocèse sans l’accord de l’empereur il a été
dépourvu de sa nouvelle dignité⁵². Il est probable qu’il n’a pas été puni de l’exil
et qu’il a déjà alors obtenu à sa disposition l’église de « Paul » dans laquelle son
élection eut lieu pour qu’il puisse célébrer librement les messes⁵³. Cee solution
a été adoptée de nouveau par Constance, au bout de quelques années, après un
nouveau retour de Paul au diocèse. Il est possible qu’une telle situation eut lieu
deux fois. Cee fois-ci, la disgrâce de Macedonius n’a pas duré longtemps et finalement encore la même année 342, déjà avec l’accord de Constance II, il prit
⁴⁸ Soc., 2.12 ;