Tuesday, January 3, 2017

Review: The Imperial Banner by Nick Brown Book Two in the Agent of Rome series

History resource article by Mary Harrsch © 2017


When we left Imperial Agent Cassius Corbulo at the end of "The Siege", Book One of the "Agent of Rome" series, a teenaged Corbulo had survived the brutal attack on a lonely Roman outpost deep in the Syrian desert by forces of the Palmyran Queen Zenobia.  The youngster had managed to pull together the undisciplined remnants of the Roman garrison and combined them with an auxiliary detachment of local slingers, and a drunken demoralized Praetorian "hero of Rome" to withstand an onslaught of tribesmen led by the best swordsman in the Palmyrene Empire.

As book two, "The Imperial Banner," opens, we find Corbulo assigned to recover a battle standard of the Persian Empire that fell into Roman hands at the end of the Palmyrene revolt but has since gone missing.  The Roman emperor Aurelian plans to return the standard to the Persians as part of a historic peace treaty,  so the pressure is on the Imperial Service to find it.

The so-called "Pseudo-Corbulo", once thought
to be the portrait of Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo,
actually a portrait of an unknown personality
of the 1st century BC. Image courtesy of
Wikimedia Commons.
Corbulo is once again accompanied by his faithful Gallic servant, Simo. But his superior, Abascanthius, thinks Corbulo needs more protection on this assignment since the detail assigned to escort the banner to the emperor was composed of experienced veterans who all vanished as well. So he assigns a bodyguard named Indavara, a former gladiator, to Corbulo to take care of any rough stuff that should happen along the way.

We learned in Book One that Corbulo, despite his clever intellect and his distant familial lineage from the illustrious General Gnaeus Domitius Corbulo, has very marginal sword skills despite the basic military training he received when joining the service.  This continues to be a bit disconcerting to me since I am used to most protagonists in this genre being highly skilled warriors.  But with at least the presence of a skilled bodyguard Corbulo should be able to survive violent encounters without relying upon an opponent's blunder.

The prelude to the book details Indavara's astonishing final performance in Rome's most celebrated arena.  The veteran of hundreds of bouts and a crowd favorite, Indavara faces multiple uneven contests in his last bid for freedom because his corrupt lanista has wagered a huge sum against Indavara's survival.  This passage was very exciting and really ratcheted up my expectations for this new character.

Relief of Mithras slaying the bull photographed at the
National Museum of Rome, Baths of Diocletian, Rome, Italy
by Mary Harrsch © 2005
As the story unfolds, Corbulo tracks the banner back to Antioch where he tries to determine if the prize has been purloined by a rich merchant or a member of the provincial governor's staff.  One of the administrators turns out to be the head of the local Mithras cult so readers get a chance to learn a little about Mithraism along the way.

But as the bodies piled up, I expected to read about more spectacular encounters between Indavara and the villain's minions.  However, most of the deaths occur "off-stage" so-to-speak, except in the final confrontation.  I would have preferred more direct action but maybe I'm just getting bloodthirsty in my old age!

Also, although the primary characters were well drawn, there was little backstory or character development for the potential culprits, so Corbulo's eventual triumph lacked the level of gratification it could have had if the reader had a chance to develop an appreciation for the capabilities of Corbulo's opponents.  Still, the author did a great job of recreating ancient Antioch and life in the 3rd century CE Roman east and I found it an entertaining read.

Friday, December 23, 2016

Review: Roman Portraits: Sculpture in Stone and Bronze by Paul Zanker

A history resource article by Mary Harrsch © 2016

The first comprehensive overview of the Metropolitan Museum of Art 's Roman portrait collection has just been released and I was unexpectedly thrilled to receive a review copy!  Entitled "Roman Portraits: Sculpture in Stone and Bronze", the text is written by Roman classicist Paul Zanker and not only presents an analysis of style, condition, post-ancient modifications and even controversial aspects of each piece but defines the historical and social circumstances surrounding their creation and how these unique contexts influenced their individual qualities.

"The political self-image of individual rulers was all-important to in the creation of emperor's portraits," Zanker explains, "The emperor himself or his advisor dictated to the sculptor who created the prototype how he wished to be seen by his subjects - as detached , close to the people, energetic, or determined and assertive."

But images of emperors and empresses share space with those of less exalted citizens, too, even children as young as a few months old.  The text is also lavishly illustrated and includes beautifully illuminated photographs, often from multiple angles, allowing the reader to examine even minute details of each work.

As I have photographed the ancient collections of museums around the world I have often wondered how different sculptures are attributed to different dynasties when epigraphic evidence is lacking.  By reading the often abbreviated identification information displayed with each portrait I learned that often a piece is said to be Augustan, Flavian, Trajanic or Antonine based on the subject's hairstyle, beard (or lack thereof) or some perceived stylized aspect of the face, the pose, or objects included in the work.  Zanker provides in-depth discussions of these attributes and how comparative analysis with other known works is often vital to making such determinations.

I've always preferred the more realistic portraits of Hellenistic Greeks and Romans to the heavily stylized statues of ancient Egypt. But I learned that even the Romans incorporated certain stylistic aspects to their portraits and, at times, their physical appearance may not have actually resembled the official portraits displayed in public spaces.

Recently, there was a discussion of the new Netflix series "Roman Empire: Reign of Blood" in our Roman History Reading group on Facebook and several people protested the representations of Marcus Aurelius and Commodus as unrealistic because the actors were not sporting luxuriant curly hair and beards as portrayed on the official portrait statues that have come down to us from antiquity.



Zanker explains, "In contrast to Hadrian's elegant self-presentation, the portraits of the Antonine emperors make their subjects seem benevolent but also always remote.  Beginning with the portraits of the emperor Antoninus Pius and continuing with those of Lucius Verus, Marcus Aurelius and his son Commodus, and down to Septimius Severus, all the emperors are depicted with abundant, splendidly curly hair and beards that gradually become ever more luxuriant.  Presumably, these hairdos were meant to recall the great Greeks from the past, but unlike the Greeks, the Romans favored elaborate forms that were artful creations."

Portrait identified as Marcus Aurelius at the
Palazzo Altemps in Rome photographed by
Mary Harrsch © 2009
Zanker says a newly developed technique allowed sculptors to "loosen up the hair in such a way as to produce a lively interplay of light and shadow."  So these fanciful portraits were the result of a combination of a desire to project a particular image and the technology to enhance the effect.

Zanker points out, however, that Marcus Aurelius himself, in his philosophical treatise Meditations, alludes to this public deception.

"...the Meditations of Marcus Aurelius presents some idea of the man behind the portrait, indicating that the official image he chose accorded little with his personal state and how he sought to master his existential problems with the guidance of the Stoic philosopher."

I also learned how some portraits have been recarved in relatively recent times to mask damage or imperfections (to make the pieces more marketable perhaps?).   Aggressive cleaning applied when a sculpture has been retrieved from underwater also removes some distinctive aspects that could be used to date or identify a work.  These modifications are often brought to light through extensive comparisons with other existing portraits of the suspected individual but they can produce confusion about the identity of certain portraits or engender doubts about ancient authenticity altogether. Hopefully, such comparative studies should be facilitated now that more and more collections worldwide are brought online.

Zanker admits, though, that Roman society's practice of emulating the hairstyles of the Imperial family may cause identification problems as well, especially if a portrait represents a child or young adult.  Portraits identified as Augustus' adopted grandson, Gaius Caesar, have been questioned when other portraits representing an individual of similar age with a similar hairstyle have been found in contexts inconsistent with Imperial statuary.

Bronze head recovered in Susa, Italy near the
Arch of Augustus.  Image courtesy of the
Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York.
Apparently, epigraphic evidence found in the same context as a fragmentary statue can be problematic as well.  The Metropolitan Museum's collection includes a bronze head of a man found not far from the Arch of Augustus in Susa (northern Italy at the foot of the Cottian Alps).  Nearby, a fragmentary inscription was found stating that a statue was donated for Agrippa by a member of the Cotti family.  But the portrait does not resemble other portraits identified as Agrippa so scholars are left puzzling whether the statue actually represented Agrippa or one of the Cotti or the inscription fragment was referring to another statue entirely.

Portrait identified as Marcus Vipsania Agrippa
at The Louvre in Paris, France.  Image by
Mary Harrsch  © 2008
Zanker explains, "The head has been associated repeatedly with Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa, doubtless owing to the inscription found at the same time.  But it must be noted that no connection can possibly be made with Agrippa's familiar portrait type.  Not only is the stylization of the hair above the forehead completely different, but so are the shape of the head and the facial expression.  The Museum's portrait must therefore represent some other high-ranking Roman who was active in the Alpes Cottiae and to whom the son of the last king, Marcus Julius Cottius, felt indebted.  The latter had been named praefectus civitatium (high magistrate) by the Romans.  However, it is also possible that this is a portrait of Cottius himself, as Federico Barello suspects.  The Celtic prince would thus have presented himself, in the cut and style of his hair, as fully 'Roman'."

A classic portrait of Augustus of the Prima
Porta type.  Image courtesy of Wikimedia
Commons.
Zanker also notes that portraits produced in the provinces by less skilled sculptors frequently deviated from Imperial commissioned originals.  I can't help but wonder, though, if the sculptors were less skilled or if provincial portraits may have been less stylized than those produced in Rome under the nose of the emperor?  I've seen a portrait of Agrippa at The Louvre and I agree that the bronze head found near Susa does not resemble Agrippa at all. But, a case could be made for the identification as Augustus.  Not only was the head found near the Arch of Augustus but it would be more in keeping with Agrippa's reticence to glorify himself to approve a statue of Augustus, his emperor and best friend. However, based on what I have learned in this book I would have to admit the hair style is missing the "tongs" of the classic Prima Porta portrayal of the emperor, the jaw and chin are structurally wider and the mouth is distinctly more pronounced and downturned at the corners. Furthermore, the expression is more severe than other portraits of Augustus I have seen, too, where the emperor appears more "ethereal" and aloof from daily cares. There are certainly other portrait heads identified as Augustus, though, that resemble him less than this bronze head.  In fact, there are several included in the book identified as Augustus that gave me pause.  You can easily see how challenging such identification can be!

As you can probably tell by now, I found this text to be a fascinating read and welcome it as an invaluable reference work that I will use in the future to enrich my understanding of other Roman portraits I encounter in my travels!

Thursday, August 25, 2016

Dona Militaria: Rome's Lost Valor

One of nine Silvered bronze phalerae depicting a mythological figure (Zeus Ammon)
awarded to Titus Flavius Festus Roman 1st century CE.  Photographed at the
Neuses Museum in Berlin, Germany by Mary Harrsch © 2016

A history resource article by Mary Harrsch © 2016

A few months ago I visited the Neues Museum in Berlin, Germany.  I was with an ancient Egypt study group so, of course, the bust of Nefertiti along with the large collection of artifacts from the Amarna region was our main purpose for going there.  However, being an ancient Roman history enthusiast, I gravitated towards the museum's Roman collection and was excited to find a set of Roman phalerae belonging to Titus Flavius Festus found near Lauresfort, Germany a few miles south of the site of the large Roman fortress of Castra Vetera.

Castra Vetera was founded by the Roman commander Drusus, a stepson of emperor Augustus and brother to the future emperor Tiberius, on the hill now known as F├╝rstenberg, about sixty Roman miles below the capital of Germania Inferior, Colonia Claudia Ara Agrippinensium (modern Cologne). Vetera controlled the confluence of the rivers Rhine and Lippe. Drusus used Castra Vetera as one of his bases when he invaded the east bank of the Rhine.

Archaeologists aren't sure which legions were stationed there but a cenotaph of Marcus Caelius found there mentions the Eighteenth Legion that was annihilated in the battle of the Teutoburg Forest in September of 9 CE. After the battle, Tiberius ordered fortifications made of wood to accommodate two legions, V Alaudae and XXI Rapax. Both units took part in the Germanic campaigns of Germanicus in the first years of the reign of Tiberius (14-16 CE) and the unsuccessful campaign against the Frisians of 28 CE.  After 43 CE, XXI Rapax was replaced by XV Primigenia.  In 69-70 CE (Yes, that fateful year of the four emperors!) Castra Vetera was razed to the ground during the Batavian revolt and all of the soldiers who defended the fort were murdered after they surrendered.

A silver pendant depicting a double sphinx awarded to Titus Flavius Festus Roman 1st century CE found near the site of the
Roman fort Castra Vetera near modern-day Xanten, Germany.  Photographed at the Neues Museum in Berlin, Germany by
Mary Harrsch © 2016.
Whether these phalerae were awarded for any of these activities, we simply don't know.  The set of nine dona militaria, carefully buried in a silver-lined copper box, were uncovered during the construction of a drainage ditch in 1858.  However, at that time archaeology was in its infancy.  Antiquarians had not yet developed methods for stratification so all contextual information was lost.

The depictions of mythological figures and a lion's head, though, do look very similar to the depictions of phalerae shown on the cenotaph of Marcus Caelius, who appears to have served in the 18th Legion.  If so, perhaps Titus Flavius Festus served in the 18th as well and buried his precious dona before leaving on that fateful march through the Teutoburg Forest.

Cenotaph of Marcus Caelius, centurion of the 18th Legion.  Image courtesy of Jona Lendering
I had read about phalerae and seen them depicted on sculptures but had never seen real ones before in any of the museums I have visited.  As I began to research more about them, I soon learned why.  Apparently, the phalerae exhibited at the Neuses are the only ones crafted of precious metal thought to have been worn by an individual soldier ever found, although I did find a reference to about 30 chalcedony sculpted discs thought to be military decorations recovered in eastern Europe, including one recovered from a Sarmatian warrior's grave (he had reused it for a sword pommel) in the Ural mountains  (See "The Roman military phalera from the Perm Urals  by Alexander Kolobov, Andrej Melnitchuk and Nadeshda Kulyabina)

Chalcedony phalera from the Perm Urals.  Image courtesy
of Alexander Kolobov, Andrej Melnitchuk and Nadeshda Kulyabina
This surprised me since thousands of Roman soldiers served across Europe, north Africa and around the Mediterranean for almost a thousand years.  So I began digging into the research to find out when the Roman army began awarding military decorations, who were eligible for such decorations, what percentage of men received such decorations and what may have happened to all of them.

The best reference I found was "The Military Decorations of the Roman Army" by Valerie A. Maxfield of the University of Exeter published in 1981.  Fortunately for me, although the hard copy can still be purchased up on Amazon it is rather expensive, I found the volume in its entirety up on Google Books.

In it, Maxfield explains, "The first recorded example of Roman military decoration dates to the very early years of the Republic, to the middle of the fifth century BC [although we'll see that she doubts the accuracy of this reference].  At the other end of the scale, award-giving on a regular basis came to an end in the early third century AD, though sporadic examples do occur to the very end of the Roman Empire in the West and into the Byzantine era." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

In his review of Maxfield's book, Professor Lawrence Keppie explains further, "The award of dona militaria can be traced back to the very beginnings of the Roman state.  Evidence from the Republic is slight, in the absence of a substantial epigraphic record, but we should not necessarily be led to suppose that no hierarchy of award had yet been devised.  Certainly, by the late first century A.D., a system as complex as that used by any modern army was in being.  Awards were related to military rank rather than degree of heroism.  Ordinary soldiers were given sets of torques (necklets), armillae (bracelets) and phalerae (medallions);  evocati and centurions might receive the same, plus a corona aurea (golden crown); equestrian and senatorial officers were given sets of coronae, hastae purae (spears, perhaps silver-tipped), and vexilla (standards), according to their rank.  Much less is known about the corniculum (little horn?) and phiale (dish), which do not seem to have continued in use into the Empire."

One of the nine phalerae from Lauersfort depicts a young Bacchus or satyr.
Bacchic imagery was a popular motif on military decorations because the melee
of combat was said to resemble  Bacchic revelry.  Photographed at the Neues Museum
by Mary Harrsch  © 2016
Maxfield attributes the development of a reward system to the introduction of a professional army and the expansion of Roman territory beyond the Italian peninsula.

"Such a professional standing army required a career structure with incentives to the potential recruit, the prospects of advancement in rank and status, and the security which came from adequate regular pay, good conditions of service and a gratuity on discharge sufficient to ease the transition back into civilian life.  Likewise, the expansion of Rome's military commitments led to a steady proliferation of permanent regular units requiring to be officered.  This, together with the acquisition of overseas territories to be governed, necessitated changes in the structure and organization of command at its higher levels." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

Maxfield bemoans the paucity of evidence relating to the award of decorations.  She divides most of the evidence available into three categories: literary sources, inscriptions on stone (and occasionally on metal) and sculpture, acknowledging that archaeological evidence of the decorations themselves is patchy at best.

Surprisingly, most literary evidence is found in Republican Period sources.

"Doubtless there existed in the Roman period a written code of practice relating to the presentation of awards for gallantry; such a code would be necessary for the efficient and equitable running of the system, but none such has survived, nor any of the rolls of honour which must have been maintained at Rome, nor the soldiers' individual files which would have recorded all details of their military career including any distinctions gained in the field...Many of the conclusions which will be put forward about the development and functioning of the system of military reward are based on negative rather than on positive evidence and must therefore be regarded as far from definitive - no more than one way of interpreting the [extremely limited] material available." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

The Gorgon, Medusa, was popular imagery because of the legionaries' beliefs
in its protective properties.  Photographed at the Neues Museum
by Mary Harrsch  © 2016
Since I am particularly interested in phalerae, I took note that Maxfield discusses a speech given by Dionysius of Halicarnassus reciting the awards of the famous 5th century BCE legendary warrior named Lucius Siccius Dentatus (known as the Roman Achilles) who is said to have won 1 corona obsidionalis (the famous Grass Crown), 14 coronae civicae (for saving the lives of Roman citizens), 3 coronae murales (for being the first over the wall of an enemy city), 8 coronae aureae, 83 torques, 160 armillae, 18 hastae and 25 phalerae.  Since I had seen references to Celtic phalerae in the research literature, I had wondered if the Romans had adopted this form of decoration from that culture like it did the torques and armillae. But this would probably not have been the case back in the 5th century BCE.  However, Maxfield views this 1st century BCE source with "deep suspicion," although a further seven writers refer to the case of Dentatus as well.

"All the sources are in broad agreement over the detail of his military awards and yet the list is out of place in a fifth-century context.  It is, for example, highly doubtful whether specific crowns for saving the lives of Roman citizens and for being the first to scale an enemy wall had developed as early as this.  The whole thing is suspiciously anachronistic..." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

If Maxfield is correct, perhaps the inclusion of phalerae in the list of awards is also anachronistic and the award form may have been adopted after intensive contact with the Celts during Hannibal's invasion and/or Caesar's later Gallic Wars after all.

Although this phalera may depict Juno or Minerva, it may be a portrait of
Agrippina, wife of the popular Roman commander Germanicus.
Photographed at the Neues Museum by Mary Harrsch  © 2016
Maxfield is much more comfortable with information on military decorations provided by Polybius in Book VI of his history.  She says Pliny the Elder and Aulus Gellius provide excellent information on the origins of the various military crowns while Varro, Verrius Flaccus and Isidor of Seville provide fragmentary evidence on the origin of decorations other than crowns.

Then she addresses the problem of  epigraphic evidence concentrating on centurions and officers. Of the inscriptions found, she points out that most come from the first and second centuries CE.

"Although the practice of setting up inscriptions to honour the dead or the living was one which spread over almost the whole social scale, the quality and quantity of information given are heavily weighted towards the top end of the economic and social ladder.  The reason for this is readily apparent.  The cutting of monumental inscriptions was a skilled job and the stonemason would have charged accordingly; the more competent the mason the higher the fee he could command, the longer and more verbose the text the greater the cost.  A legionary centurion of the Principate earned more than sixteen times as much as did a common soldier, a camp prefect two-and-a-half times as much again.  An equestrian officer at the height of his military career had a salary comparable to that of the camp prefect but only half that which a decenarian procurator could command." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

Like Maxfield, I launched into a search for references to decorations on Roman military tombstones. The easiest to find were often stones with images of decorations and military equipment, sometimes without any inscription at all.  Maxfield says sometimes a reference could be as subtle as just the letters "d.d." for "donis donatus" meaning "having been decorated."  Another problem she points out is the wealthy, who may have had multiple monuments erected to them, may not have mentioned the details of military service but include only a general summary like two of three monuments honoring P. Cominius Clemens found in the cities of Concordia and Aquileia.  His illustrious equestrian career in which he commanded three auxiliary units and was decorated during the second of these commands is merely summarized as "omnibus equestribus militiis functo" ("having served at all the equestrian military levels.")

"While the relatively poor might not be able to afford to record the career in full, the richer and more powerful who have attained positions of honour and influence might not deem it worthwhile to specify the lower posts held.." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

Sculptural evidence is similarly concentrated with most dated to the Augustan period.  She attributes this to the generous donatives given by the emperor to his troops after the upheavals of the Civil War.
So, how many were actually awarded?

In a study of 70 Roman military funerary monuments, Professor Lawrence Keppie found only one depicting dona militaria.

Maxfield explains, "The surviving evidence for the officers and men of the Roman army is so partial that it will never be possible to work out a reliable figure for the proportion of serving soldiers who received military decorations.  One thing which is certain, however, is that dona militaria never became campaign medals simply designed to acknowledge the active participation of a soldier in a given campaign: the individual who wished to receive a decoration of any sort had to fight harder, better and more successfully than those around him." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

Maxfield does include an analysis of a couple of lists of soldiers from particular units, though.  The first list was comprised of names of men recruited to the praetorian guard between 153 and 156 CE then discharged between 169 and 172 CE.  They may have accompanied Verus on his Parthian campaign (162-166 CE) and Marcus Aurelius and Verus on the early part of the German war of 166-175 CE.  Although the list is incomplete, of sixty-nine men, nine (13% had the d.d. designation).  She points out that this percentage is considerably higher than indicated on records of Legio VII Claudia stationed near Viminacium in Moesia Superior at about the same time.  In a list of 195 of their names, Maxfield found only ten (less than 7%) were designated d.d.

This may not be as atypical as Maxfield thinks, however.  Men who distinguished themselves in the legions were often recruited for the praetorian guard so the caliber of individual soldier in the praetorian guard was already a step above field recruits.  We also don't know if the d.d. designation represented awards given after their induction into the praetorian guard or at some other point in their career.  There would also be the "exposure to the illustrious" factor.  As the emperor's chosen corps, they would be under more scrutiny by the emperor in the field, so valorous actions would probably be more quickly observed and documented by the emperor's staff than similar actions in other units.

One of the Lauersfort phalerae depicting a lion head.
Photographed at the Neues Museum by Mary Harrsch  © 2016
But, of these men, how many even survived their military careers?  Centurions constituted the largest percentage of the decorated so let's examine them.

Polybius described the qualities required of a centurion: 'they do not desire them so much to be men who will initiate attacks and open the battle, but men who will hold their ground when worsted and hard-pressed and be ready to die at their posts.'

Roman reenactor dressed as a centurion.  Photo by Luc Viator courtesy of Wikimedia Commons.

Julius Caesar noted that in a battle against the Nervii in 57 BCE, 'all the centurions of the fourth cohort had been slain and a standard-bearer likewise...almost all the centurions of the other cohorts were wounded or killed, among them the chief centurion, P. Sextius Aculus, bravest of men, who was overcome by many grievous wounds so that he could no longer hold himself upright.'

So what happened to the dona militaria of those killed in action? Were their decorations sent to their families?  Maxfield thinks not.

"On the death of the soldier who won them, they may well have been returned or sold back to his unit (this was a common practice with standard military equipment) and later re-used..." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

What other activities could have also resulted in the loss of dona militaria?

"A passage from the Histories of Tacitus points to what may well have been the ultimate fate of large numbers of decorations in times of financial crisis.  Tacitus tells us how some of the supporters of Vitellius at Cologne in AD 69, not having money to give to help finance the war, were urged to part with their valuables including their phalerae...Another allusion to the melting down of military decorations appears in the pages of the Elder Pliny: 'if only Fabricius who forbade gallant generals to possess more than a dish and a salt-cellar of silver would see how nowadays the rewards of valour are made from the utensils of luxury or else are broken up to make them.'" - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

Roman portrait once thought to be Vitellius.
Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons
The ancient sources also describe the offering of military decorations at the funerals of famous commanders.

"...soldiers of Sulla and Caesar, who, wearing their decorations at the funerals of their one-time commanders, cast the dona on to the funeral pyres as a final tribute (App., BC I. 105; Suet., Caesa. 84.4.,  App., BC II.148)"

Maxfield points out that not one military crown of any type has ever been identified.  She also says  not a single vexillum nor a hasta pura has ever been found either, although scholar M. Rostovtzeff, in his paper "Vexillum and Victory", published in 1942 in the Journal of Roman Studies, purports to have identified at least one vexillum.

Although the most coveted crowns like the corona obsidionalis were made of perishable vegetation from the scene of the action, it seems hardly possible that not a single corona aurea has been found.  I've seen so many 5th - 3rd century BCE gold Greek wreaths in museums and traveling exhibits I have lost count.  But, apparently, such Roman crowns are nonexistent.

Fragment of a gold wreath Greek 320-300 BCE from a tomb at
Zaneskaya Gora in the region of the Crimea on the northern shore of the Black Sea.
Photographed at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York by
Mary Harrsch © 2007
Another problem contributing to the loss of dona was grave robbers.  Decorated veterans were sometimes buried with their dona in isolated graves on their land plots.

In his paper, "Having Been a Soldier:  The Commemoration of Military Service on Funerary Monuments of the Early Roman Empire", Lawrence Keppie explains:

"The great majority of memorials at Este, and at least half of those from Antiochia, were not erected in cemeteries at the towns themselves, but often in what appear isolated contexts in the territorium, that is most obviously on the land plots which the colonists had obtained at the close of the military service...In many cases, the memorial would be seen principally, not by fellow colonists or any serving military men (like those erected outside a legionary fortress such as Mainz), but by family and neighbours."

Such isolated burials would be prime pickings for passing grave robbers and thieves.

In his paper, "Vexillum and Victory" published in Vol. 32 of The Journal of Roman Studies, Rostovtzeff says, "The representation on a monument of specific allusions, e.g. military standards or dona militaria, is really quite rare, and presumably restricted to those entitled to be so depicted.  [However,] The dona themselves are often shown very prominently, and when painted would have been easily distinguished from afar."

I was particularly intrigued by Keppie's reference to a case in Cremona where a soldier, serving under Augustus had his dona militaria interred with his ashes.  I wish Keppie had been more specific.  He only footnoted a 1971 publication by Pontiroli which is pretty hard to track down without a title or the name of the journal in which it appeared.  I thought, perhaps, the dona militaria may have ended up in the local archaeological museum which in the case of Cremona would be The Museo Archeologico di San Lorenzo.  So,  I eagerly viewed as many images of that museum's collections as I could find, including images taken by visitors uploaded to TripAdvisor, but saw no funerary monuments from the Augustan period or dona militaria, although the museum's website mentions ceramic/glass/bronze grave goods and dona militaria were often silvered bronze.  I later found a reference that mentioned bronze torques being found but no mention of anything else.  Based on Maxfield's discussion of how decorations were usually awarded in sets, there should have been more decorations found than just a couple of torques.

Professor Keppie also pointed out that a number of soldiers' graves were plundered by later Christians for stone to build their churches.

"...a panel showing phalerae is built into the thirteenth-century bell-tower of the Cathedral at Benevento...There are certainly numerous fragments of sculptural decoration of what must have been large monuments, most probably to primipilares, equestrian officers and even senatorial commanders." - Lawrence Keppie, 'Having been a soldier': The Commemoration of Military Service on Funerary Monuments of the early Roman Empire

Keppie says that a number of sculptured panels are also built into the church of San Domenico at Sora (Lazio), which include an eagle and military standard.  I would assume that any dona militaria found containing precious metals would have been similarly confiscated and melted down especially in view of their pagan imagery.


Maxfield says one of the underlying problems is the difficulty in identifying military decorations in first place.  She explains that some of the minor awards were derived from personal ornaments and there appears to be no standard design used for the dona. Bronze torques found during the excavation of the Roman fort of Benwell on Hadrian's Wall could have just as well been local native ornaments traded for Roman goods as military decorations.

"The commonest type of decoration to be found is the phalera.  The problem of interpretation here arises from the fact that phalerae were used for purposes other than military award; they served for example as horse-trappings and these trappings are not always readily distinguishable from military decorations - both are ornate metal discs design to be attached to leather straps.  Only in cases such as that of the Lauersfort phalerae where a complete set [of nine] was found in close proximity to a legionary fortress (Vetera bei Xanten in Lower Germany) can we be confident that we are dealing with genuine dona militaria." - Valerie A. Maxfield, The Military Decorations of the Roman Army

At least I had the opportunity to view one set!  Judging from their rarity, they should be worth more than the Hope Diamond!

Wednesday, August 24, 2016

Ben Hur 2016: Definitely Not A Blast From The Past!

A history resource article by Mary Harrsch © 2016

Last week I went to see the new Ben-Hur remake on opening day.  I realize the producers had a very narrow religious agenda but I had to see for myself since historical films about the ancient world have been in such short supply lately.  I had read a review in the Huffington Post saying the CG chariot race alone was worth the price of admission and they were definitely right about that!


The classic Ben-Hur starring Charlton Heston has been the gold standard since 1959 even though it is based on an inspirational but broadly historically-flawed novel by Civil War Major General Lew Wallace.

Major General Lew Wallace, 11th governor of the
New Mexico Territory.  Image courtesy of Wikimedia Commons

I saw it as a girl and have watched it many times since - even more often than Heston's other blockbuster, "The Ten Commandments."  I was pretty much prepared for a retelling of a very familiar tale with different actors and CG effects thrown in.  But, what I saw was a significantly altered story with a lot of Roman bashing!  If you are totally unfamiliar with the story of Ben-Hur and want to see the new remake with no idea what to expect, you should probably stop reading at this point.  Last warning....

The new film begins with the famous chariot race, although it shows just a brief clip before fading to a horse race between a very young Messala and Ben-Hur.  When Ben-Hur's horse stumbles and falls, he is thrown violently to the ground and is severely injured.  Messala runs over to him, scoops him up and staggers back to the Hur residence with his now badly bleeding friend.  There we see Ben-Hur's mother, a very unsympathetic character, shout at Messala, blaming him for her son's condition.  Ben-Hur's sister, though, who is obviously in love with Messala, tells him it's not his fault and together they begin the bedside vigil waiting for Ben-Hur to regain consciousness.

So far, the producers actually had me interested.  In the 1959 film, an allusion is made to Messala's relationship with Ben-Hur's sister Tirza but that's about it.  I actually liked this little anecdote from Ben-Hur's past.

Ben-Hur finally wakes up and he seems to recover fairly swiftly.  It becomes apparent that Messala feels out of place in Ben-Hur's royal family home.  Messala finally confesses to Ben-Hur that he wants to become his own man among his own people and plans to enlist in the legions.  Messala alludes to an apparently disreputable grandfather and how Messala hopes to regain the family honor. So far, so good.

Then we see a series of clips of Messala fighting bravely in brutal combat across the empire.  The filmmakers still have me on board!

Messala is finally deployed back to Jerusalem where zealots have been clashing violently with the legions. Jerusalem appears to be the headquarters of a legion - first major historical error.

Scholar Tim O'Neill tells us, "The Prefects and, later, Procurators, who governed Judea were lower level officials of the equestrian class, subordinate to the higher ranking governors of the province of Syria, who were of Senatorial rank.  Only a senatorial official could command legions.  The Prefects/Procurators of Judea commanded several cohorts of auxiliary troops, not legionaries.  These would have been Greek speaking Syrians or locally recruited Samaritans rather than Romans, though commanded by Roman officers."

"Later in the first century AD, in the wake of the failed Jewish Revolt of 66-70 AD, one of the legions that took part in the suppression of the uprising and the destruction of Jerusalem - Legio X Fretensis - stayed behind to occupy Judea  and was based in Jerusalem.  It remained based in Judea for the next 150 years."

Pontius Pilate makes his entrance and is portrayed as thoroughly nasty.  The filmmakers have attempted to demonstrate his elevated rank by including in his costume a fur capelet and fur-lined boots - much more suited to Germania than the blazing desert sun of Jerusalem.  At no point in the film does he demonstrate any compassion to anyone even though Christian scriptures say he tried to dissuade the chief priests and the mob from seeking the execution of Jesus. Pilate is also dressed in military uniform throughout the film even though he served as an administrative magistrate and would have worn a toga as was portrayed in the 1959 film.  He is also barely older than Messala even though he holds such an elevated position and, in history, dies a "mature" man just ten years later.  Obviously, at this point, from a Roman history perspective, things start turning noticeably south.

Messala has apparently made his way up the ranks to become a tribune. However, tribunes were typically posts reserved for young men of the equestrian class with aspirations for a senatorial career.  There are a number of types of tribunes but Messala appears to be a tribunus laticlavius, second in command to the legionary legate.  A legionary ranker may rise to the position of a centurion, a non-commissioned officer post, or even a primipilares (first spear), a senior centurion, but not a tribune. To make matters worse, for those of us who have studied military decorations, Messala arrives at the house of Hur for dinner dressed in a full set of phalerae - awards bestowed upon centurions.  By the first century CE, tribunes and other staff officers could earn coronae (crowns of various types and designs), hasta purae (special spears - some scholars think they were silver-tipped) and vexilla (symbolic standards) - but not phalerae, the sculpted bronze discs worn on a leather harness strapped over the chest of a centurion on formal occasions.  I realize Hollywood frequently uses anachronistic pieces of Roman equipment that the general public associates with Roman soldiers, but I think they should be held accountable for poor research!

One of nine silvered bronze phalerae depicting a mythological figure
(Bacchus or a young satyr?) awarded to Titus Flavius Festus Roman 1st century CE.
Bacchic imagery was popular in the legions because the melee of combat was
said to resemble the frenzy of Bacchic revelry.  Photographed at the Neues Museum
in Berlin, Germany by Mary Harrsch © 2016
We also see Roman soldiers wearing the classic segmented armor known as lorica segmentata which, although the time period is correct, would have probably been too hot in the desert.  At least there were a few scenes with soldiers in mail shirts (lorica hamata) which would have been more reasonable.

A Roman reenactor wearing lorica segmentata at an event
at St. Alban's.  I was practicing my compositing skills and
time traveled him to medieval Yorkminster!
Photo by Mary Harrsch  © 2006
More sinister, though, from a psychological perspective, was a scene where Roman soldiers are seen plundering the Jewish necropolis for stones to build the hippodrome.  There is no evidence this type of activity ever occurred there. Romans typically did not interfere with local religious or funerary customs.  In fact, although Rome expected conquered peoples to worship Roman gods along with their native pantheon, Jews were declared exempt from this requirement after they were conquered in 63 BCE. Judaism was declared a legal religion and the Jews were allowed to worship freely.

The reason I found this scene particularly pernicious, though, was that this past week I have been researching why so few Roman military decorations have ever been found and came across pictures of Christian churches with the tombstones of Roman soldiers incorporated into their walls. These images were produced by Professor Lawrence Keppie to illustrate his paper "Having Been A Soldier: The Commemoration of Military Service On Funerary Monuments of the Early Roman Empire," published in the Bulletin of the Institute of Classical Studies.


Roman veterans who were decorated for their valor were sometimes buried with their military decorations crafted from precious metals.  We can only assume the dona militaria were also plundered and probably melted down by church workmen or officials. So this scene depicting the Romans in the act of desecrating graves was not only historically inaccurate but indicted the Romans for unsavory acts the later Christians actually practiced. I also heard the local inhabitants in the film referring to the Romans under their breath as killers.

Then I was surprised that instead of Tirza knocking a loosened tile from the roof to rain down on the prefect's entourage as depicted in the 1959 film, we see a young zealot, who has been recuperating in the Hur household, fire an arrow that misses the prefect and kills a nearby Roman signifer.  The boy runs away and Ben-Hur takes the blame to try to protect his mother and sister.  But, all are dragged away and Ben-Hur is sentenced to the galleys.  Of course, this is where the novel itself is totally inaccurate. Rome did not use slaves on its military galleys.  They were manned by trained sailors and marines. The Romans did not want a battle's outcome dependent upon the performance of slaves. But, to be fair, this information may not have been known to Lew Wallace in 1880 when he published Ben-Hur.

Fresco of a Roman war galley from Pompeii 1st century CE.  Photograph by
Mary Harrsch © 2007
In reality, prisoners like Ben-Hur that somehow escaped execution would have been sentenced to the mines or the quarries.  However, it would have been difficult for Ben-Hur to rescue a Roman naval commander there like he did in Lew Wallace's novel.

I actually liked the updated sea battle sequence.  The CG was pretty good and heightened the tension. However, the Roman commander was portrayed as totally despicable and went overboard during the battle, apparently dying.  Ben-Hur did not rescue him or go to Rome and eventually be adopted by him as in the 1959 film. Instead, Ben-Hur is washed ashore and found by the kindly African, played by Morgan Freeman in dreadlocks, who wants to race horses in the hippodrome of Jerusalem.

That brings us back to the chariot race.  This part of the novel serves as the exciting climax both for it and the film adaptations. However, although thrilling, it is based on historical inaccuracy as well. Charioteers, although wildly popular, were, like gladiators and other Roman entertainers, members of the lowest social class in ancient Rome.  At this point in time, a Roman military tribune would have never competed as a chariot driver.  As I said, though, it was absolutely thrilling.  I even had to look away a couple of times because of the realistic violence.  I watched the following trailer on YouTube that included a "Behind the Scenes" look at the filming of the chariot race.  Although I'm sure some CGI was used, the actors actually did drive the chariots.  The filmmakers mounted cameras on the chariots themselves along with other moving camera vehicles to give us some really unique camera angles. I do hope none of the horses were injured during the filming!  Jack Huston looks like he's having the time of his life!




Of course, probably the most misleading scene of all depicted the Romans arresting Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Even the Christian scriptures say Jesus was arrested by armed men sent by the Jewish high priests! That scene was inexcusable!! Talk about vilifying an entire culture to promote your own religious agenda!

But, the new film offers a totally alternative ending which I actually liked.  I will leave that for you to discover for yourself, though.

For those of you with a nostalgia for earlier productions of Ben-Hur, I will leave you with a link to a .pdf I created of a souvenir booklet for a 1900 live production of Ben-Hur that I found at a local flea market a couple of years ago:

https://www.dropbox.com/s/gvj2jqpdjhvm47u/BenHurSouvenirBookletTake2.pdf?dl=0 

Scene from a 1900 live production of Ben-Hur.  Photo (now in the public domain) by Joseph Byron.

This play ran for 21 years in the United States, Britain and Australia, ending in 1920.  It is estimated over 20 million people saw it during that time.