Spoils in the Roman Republic 9783515133692, 9783515133708, 3515133690

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Spoils in the Roman Republic Boon and Bane Edited by Marian Helm and Saskia T. Roselaar

Franz Steiner Verlag

Spoils in the Roman Republic Boon and Bane Edited by Marian Helm and Saskia T. Roselaar

Franz Steiner Verlag

Coverabbildung: Tropaion, Süditalien, 4. Jahrhundert v. Chr., Staatliche Antikensammlungen München (Inv.-Nr. 15032) Foto: Renate Kühling Bibliografische Information der Deutschen Nationalbibliothek: Die Deutsche Nationalbibliothek verzeichnet diese Publikation in der Deutschen Nationalbibliografie; detaillierte bibliografische Daten sind im Internet über dnb.d-nb.de abrufbar. Dieses Werk einschließlich aller seiner Teile ist urheberrechtlich geschützt. Jede Verwertung außerhalb der engen Grenzen des Urheberrechtsgesetzes ist unzulässig und strafbar. © Franz Steiner Verlag, Stuttgart 2023 www.steiner-verlag.de Layout und Herstellung durch den Verlag Satz: SchwabScantechnik, Göttingen Druck: Beltz Grafische Betriebe, Bad Langensalza Gedruckt auf säurefreiem, alterungsbeständigem Papier. Printed in Germany. ISBN 978-3-515-13369-2 (Print) ISBN 978-3-515-13370-8 (E-Book)

Preface This volume presents the research findings of the collaborative RUB Research School project “Spoils in the Roman Republic” which was conducted at the Ruhr-Universität Bochum from 2015 to 2018. Workshops were held on three occasions during this period and contributed to an extremely fruitful scholarly conversation that culminated in the final conference in September 2018. The volume thus comprises the research findings of several years of work that were characterized by lively and open exchanges as well as the team effort of all the people involved in the project’s realization. “Spoils in the Roman Republic” initially started with a Visiting International Professor grant to Saskia Roselaar by the RUB Research School and evolved from our initial discussions of the effects of constant resource reallocation on Roman society and Roman Italy during the republican period. We quickly came to the conclusion that ‘spoils’ have often been treated too statically in regard to both their impact on Roman society and their changing quality throughout republican history. Therefore, the main thesis formulated by the project argues that the phenomenon of constantly generated and distributed surplus resources should be seen as a highly complicated and also potentially contentious issue, rather than a force of stabil­ity in Roman society. The acquisition and distribution of spoils produced very different outcomes depending on the specific situational context. In order to address these questions fully, we invited scholars with different perspectives and areas of expertise to form an interdisciplinary research group that proved able to engage with and interconnect the wide spectrum of subjects that the omnipresence of spoils in the Roman Republic entailed. The project kicked off with two workshops that concentrated on the origins and development of Roman predatory warfare by discussing the modes of acquisition, distribution, utilization, and appropriation of spoils, and the long-term effects of resource reallocation on Roman Italy and its neighboring regions. The stimulating papers and questions that emerged in the course of our conversation staked out central issues that formed the basis for the panels of the final conference in Bochum in 2018, as well as the larger sections of this volume. Some of the speakers have not published their papers in this volume, but contributed to the debate all the same: we thank Prof. Dr. Fabian Klinck, Dr. Mario Adamo, Laura Nazim and Dr. Jack Schropp for their contributions to the debate.

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Furthermore, this volume could not have been published without the assistance of many people within and outside the Ruhr-Universität Bochum. “Spoils in the Roman Republic” was generously funded by the RUB Research School, and we are immensely grateful for its invaluable assistance. In particular, we would like to thank Dr. Sarah Gemicioglu for all her support and patience with a young PhD candidate trying to figure out how to run and finance workshops and conferences. We are also indebted to the Ruhr-Universität Bochum’s Fachb­ereich Alte Geschichte for the advice and support provided by Prof. Dr. Bernhard Linke, Prof. Dr. Christian Wendt, and the whole team, especially Marie Föllen and Mathis Hartmann. We are also grateful for the collaboration, advice, and patience, of all our participants who turned “Spoils in the Roman Republic” into a success story; and we are particularly indebted to Dr. Marleen Termeer, Dr. Stefan Fraß and Dr. Simon Lentzsch who accompanied and supported the project from the start. Special thanks are due to Prof. Dr. Karl-­Joachim ­Hölkeskamp who helped tremendously with getting the volume on track with Franz Steiner Verlag. In this context, we also have to thank Katharina Stüdemann and the staff at Steiner for putting the volume through the press. Last but not least, sincere thanks are due to Dr. Saskia Roselaar. The conversations with Saskia have been extremely rewarding and her expertise was instrumental in putting the project together and especially in finishing it. Covid-19 naturally slowed down the publication process but also caused very personal disruptions that would have been worse, if Saskia had not shown great empathy, patience, and a remarkable ability to keep things moving. Saskia Roselaar proved an excellent choice for the RUB Research School’s VIP grant and it has been a privilege to work with her. 

Saskia Roselaar & Marian Helm

Table of Contents Introductions Spoils and the Roman Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 13 Saskia Roselaar / Marian Helm Global Spoils on a Local Stage . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 31 The Case of Republican Rome Hans Beck Spoils and the Roman Military . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 35 Nathan Rosenstein Comparative Section Homeric Society and the Bane of Raiding . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47 Stefan Frass The Macedonian Approach to Spoils . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 59 Michael Kleu Spoils in the Early Roman Republic Spoils in Early Rome . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75 From the Regal Period to c. 390 BCE Jeremy Armstrong The Art of Acquisition . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101 Land Distribution as Spoil and Its Impact on Agriculture in the Fourth to Early Third Centuries BCE Peter VanDerPuy

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Spoils, Land and Colonization from the Latin War to the End of the Third Samnite War . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 127 Audrey Bertrand Born to Plunder . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 145 Rome’s Shift towards Predatory Warfare in the Fourth Century BCE Marian Helm Spoils in the Middle Republic – Value and Impact The Changing Nature of Spoils in the Middle Republic The Grand Strategy? . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 165 Spoils and Colonization in the Fourth and Third Centuries BCE Saskia T. Roselaar Spoils and the Allies . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181 Roman Warfare and Coinage Production in Italy before the End of the First Punic War Marleen K. Termeer Tributum and Spoils in the Middle Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199 Michael Taylor Roman Spoils and Triumphs, 218–167 BCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 217 John Rich Modes of Extraction Markets on the Move . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 247 The Commercialisation of Spoils of War in the Roman Republic Marta García Morcillo Spoils, Army Wages and Supplies in Rome’s Early Military Intervention in Hispania . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 265 Gerard Cabezas-Guzmán / Toni Ñaco del Hoyo The Revenues of Asia and the Evolution of the Res Publica . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 287 Bradley Jordan

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Impact of Spoils on Roman Italy Problems and Opportunities of Warfare in Allied Territory in the Second Punic War . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 309 Simon Lentzsch Spoils, Infrastructure and Politics in Rome and Italy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 325 John R. Patterson The Human Spoils of the Roman Republic . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 341 Katharine P. D. Huemoeller Plunder, Common Soldiers, and Military Service in the Third and Second Centuries BCE . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 355 François Gauthier Symbolic Dimension of Spoils The Self-Fashioning of the New Elite . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 371 Spoils as Representation of Victory Karl-J. Hölkeskamp Sicily, Rome, and the Communicative Power of Spoils . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 385 Laura Pfuntner Praeda, Latini and Socii . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 401 The Movement of Spoils in Italy in the Second Century BCE Michael P. Fronda Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 425

Introductions

Spoils and the Roman Republic Saskia Roselaar / Marian Helm I Spoils and Warfare Warfare was a common occurrence in the Ancient World and the Roman Republic was no exception in this regard. Rome was, however, exceptionally successful in its military endeavours, which led to the conquest of the Italian Peninsula and culminated in the historically unique creation of a Mediterranean empire. The origins and motifs behind this remarkable expansion of Roman power were complex and many-faceted, but there can be little doubt that the material rewards of military aggression played a central role in driving and maintaining annual warfare. The fascinating story of T. Manlius Torquatus can serve as an instructive example for the importance of spoils. According to the literary sources, the young patrician was part of a Roman force that confronted a Celtic host across the Anio in the year 361 BCE.1 When a Celtic champion stepped onto the contested bridge to challenge the Romans to single combat, T. Manlius responded and won the subsequent duel. He then took his slain opponent’s golden torquis for himself, which earned him and his descendants the cognomen ‘Torquatus’. The bloody deed thus brought Titus Manlius lasting fame, but it also yielded concrete rewards in the form of the plundered torc and the consul’s grant of a corona aurea.2 Irrespective of the historicity of this exemplum, its broad reception by ancient authors – including an identical episode featuring M. Valerius Corvus – nevertheless provides us with some insights into Roman concepts and expectations regarding the taking of spoils.3 Later authors saw spoils as a central component and objective of Roman warfare, a perception that was probably reinforced by the various ways that plundered goods

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All dates BCE unless otherwise noted. It should be noted that this volume avoids the term ‘booty’ due to the modern connotations of this term. Note that Plb. 6.39 also stresses the importance of decorations, cf. Milne (2019) 145–149. The most detailed account is provided by Liv. 7.9.6–10.14. The episode is widely referred to by other sources as well, see Oakley (1998) 113–148. On the significance of taking the torc from the fallen Celtic opponent see Östenberg (2009) 108–111.

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were displayed in Rome. The growing urban landscape of the urbs Roma came to reflect a positive appreciation of spoils from the fourth century onwards: captured weapons, statues, inscriptions, and paintings that referred to the military campaigns and their rich bounties came to adorn the central places of the city, while numerous new public and private buildings were constructed and financed by victorious generals.4 Termed a ‘theatre of power’ by Karl-Joachim Hölkeskamp,5 the complicated memorial landscape of Rome produced one particularly blunt message: the Republic’s wars brought wealth and power. Public rituals like the elaborate Roman pompae interacted with, updated, and reinforced this positive attitude towards warfare on a regular basis. Both the pompa triumphalis with its vivid display of the realities of warfare through the presentation of prisoners, weapons and paintings, and the pompa funebris and its praise of ancestors and their victories, emphasized the material benefits of annual warfare and thus encouraged the continuation of the practice.6 This message was not limited to the urban population, since participation in the triumph or occasional attendance in the assemblies made sure that those dwelling farther away from Rome, who often owed their plots of land to the violent expansion of the ager Romanus in the first place, were also exposed to this monumental landscape of victory and plunder. In addition, municipia and allied cities also received plundered art, participated in the spoils, and benefitted from roadbuilding or the deduction of colonies. Spoils were ubiquitous in Roman society and their meticulous compilation as well as public and private display attest to the widespread appreciation of Roman warfare’s material benefits.7 It is no coincidence that spoils also imprinted heavily on Roman collective memory and identity.8 The foundation legend of the city of Rome, for example, emphasized the importance of spoils and the virtues of rapine. Romulus and Remus were not only the 4 5 6

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Spoils played an important role in embellishing the city with temples and in improving its infrastructure, see Davies (2017) 29–32, 61–65, 110–130; Hölscher (2019) 241–249. Hölkeskamp (2011a). A succinct overview on the Roman pompae is provided by Beck (2005b), cf. Flower (1996) 91–127, for the pompa funebris. A considerable amount of literature has been published on the Roman triumph, e. g. Beard (2003); Itgenshorst (2005); Östenberg (2009); Lange & Vervaet (2014); Hölkeskamp (2017) 209–221. On the interdependencies between public displays of spoils, Roman political culture and annual warfare see Harris (1979) 105–130; Hölkeskamp (1993); Raaflaub (1996) 287–299; Östenberg (2009) 6–14, 262–292; Rich (2014) 240–243. For the ideological function of triumphs, see De Jong & Versluys (2023). Hölkeskamp (2016) 175–181. The best-known case is the detailed listing of all the spoils that the consul C. Duilius had taken in his campaign against the Carthaginians in the year 260, CIL I2, 25; cf. the praise of military deeds in the epitaph of L. Cornelius Scipio Barbatus in the family tomb of the Cornelii Scipiones, CIL VI, 1285. Further examples are provided by the First Punic War and the Macedonian War, where spoils were instrumental in convincing the reluctant comitia centuriata to support a declaration of war. For additional examples see Burton (2019) 19–22. For a discussion of Roman memoria see Walter (2004) 26–41, 139–143; cf.  Hölkeskamp (2017) 237–310, who stresses that the majority of monuments that carried this “web of histories” referred to military exploits. In this context, the ‘anti-imperialist’ speeches by Roman historians are intriguing, since they focus on the negative sides of Roman warfare, Burton (2019) 30–39.

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sons of Mars, but were also suckled by the she-wolf, an animal associated with cunning and ferociousness. These predatory qualities also characterized the motley collection of shepherds, outlaws, and exiles that formed the basis for the Roman community, whose existence was ultimately secured by the abduction of the Sabine women. The attribution of the first spolia opima and the expansion of the ager Romanus to Romulus rounds off this picture and emphasizes that the very existence of the Roman people was intertwined with warfare and its potential rewards. This connection was reinforced by multiple exempla that include the slightly less legendary ‘second Romulus’ and conqueror of Veii, M. Furius Camillus, and many others like T. Manlius Torquatus, M’. Curius Dentatus, C. Duilius, and C. Flaminius – to name just a few.9 II Views in Recent Scholarship Modern research has duly acknowledged the intricate relation between the rise of Rome and the economic gains generated by its annual military campaigns. In contrast to earlier scholarship’s adherence to the Roman narrative of a defensive imperialism, encapsulated in the idea of having fought bella iusta, the publication of Harris’ War and Imperialism in Republican Rome, 327–70 B. C. in 1979 explicitly stressed that Roman warfare served a variety of economic interests, which in turn guaranteed a continuation of military aggression. Consequently, the motifs for engaging in permanent warfare moved to centre stage, which Harris identified as both the Roman elite’s and citizens’ attraction with and increasing dependence on resource extortion. Although some of Harris’ arguments, for example the exceptional bellicosity of Rome, have been dismissed, the importance of resource reallocation through military means has been generally acknowledged.10 In this context, Hölkeskamp has further shed light on the political implications of predatory warfare by emphasizing the interplay between Conquest, Competition and Consensus (1993) that led to the emergence of the Roman nobility in the early Republican period. The importance and consequences of military resource reallocation are discussed in detail in the contributions of the edited volume Money and Power in the Roman Republic (2016) by Beck, Jehne, and Serrati, that discuss how the plundered riches of the Mediterranean were absorbed by and integral to the functioning of Roman society in the Middle and Late Roman Republic. Besides their importance for the political system and political culture of the res publica, scholarship has also acknowledged the importance of joint military campaigns for the establishment and stabilization of

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See Beck (2005a) 167–393, for the respective biographies. Linke (2017) 393–395, discusses the complicated reception of M. Furius Camillus in the context of Roman republican ideals. Although Harris’ arguments on Roman imperialism have not gone unchallenged (e. g. North 1981), the role and importance of spoils for the working of the political system remain relevant. For an excellent discussion see Burton (2019) 39–73.

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Roman rule in Italy. Participation in Rome’s wars not only gave the allies a chance to share in the spoils, but also provided avenues of communication and integration.11 The prevalent focus on the economic aspects of spoils has, however, reduced them to a mere social and political currency that had the potential to stabilize or alter power balances and relations in various ways. In part, this narrow interpretation of spoils is a reflection of the great attention that our literary sources devote to the correct and often controversial use and distribution of captured goods; an issue that is further complicated by the unclear definition and correlation of the terms praeda and manubiae.12 Although this particular debate has largely ended in aporia, it nevertheless reflects the overall tendency in scholarship to interpret spoils in the context of a positive-sum-game that allowed for the diffusion of social problems and for the stabilization of the Roman political system through the distribution of surplus resources.13 This interpretation tends to overlook that spoils regularly caused unrest and dissatisfaction, which suggests a more complex impact on Roman politics and Roman society. This blind spot might be due to the particular focus of studies on the Roman economy, which mainly interpret spoils under the aspect of economic value creation and have attempted to calculate war costs and profits, as well as the effect that an increased input in monetary liquidity had on Roman Italy.14 In this context, scholarship has stressed that Roman warfare generally operated at a loss that had to be covered by the tributum. The classical treatment by Frank and its conclusion that revenues were vastly exceeded by war costs has been revisited by Rosenstein and Taylor, who have upheld the initial argument.15 However, recent studies have also stressed the indirect effects and benefits of the conquest of Italy and subsequent warfare in the Mediterranean, which “resulted in real per capita economic growth in the Italian peninsula” and provided further economic boosts to both Rome and its Italian allies.16 As Rosenstein’s and Taylor’s contributions in this volume demonstrate, an overall verdict of the cost-benefit analysis of Roman warfare poses a formidable problem, since our sources mainly mention spoils and indemnities that were centrally registered and deposited in the treasury, whilst those

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Cornell (1995) 347–368; Jehne (2006) 245–249; Armstrong (2016a) 280–289; Helm (2017) 216–220. It is generally thought that praeda belonged to the individual soldiers and general, while manubiae were intended for the Roman aerarium. Even if this was the case, the general was still able to dispose of spoils in whatever way he saw fit, for example by distributing it to the soldiers on site or at the triumph or sending it to the aerarium. Shatzman (1972) 63 argues that manubiae were the spoils that the general could keep for himself, and use for any purpose he desired. Churchill (1999) countered that manubiae were meant for the public treasury; cf. Aberson (1994) 54–101. Tarpin (2009) 81–82, provides a brief overview of the debate and stresses that manubiae cannot be treated as a separate object and have to be analyzed in conjunction with praeda and spolia. For a categorization see Tarpin (2000) 366–368, cf. Rich in this volume and Bleckmann (2016) 84. Frank (1933); Rosenstein (2016); Taylor (2017). For a brief overview see Kay (2014) 1–7. Contra Bleckmann (2016) 91–96. Kay (2014) 6; see also Roselaar (2019) 61–119.

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spoils that were not mentioned in the official record usually elude us.17 The negligence of these ‘individual’ spoils might also be ascribed to modern perceptions of plundering and marauding, which changed significantly with the emergence of modern national states and national armies; individual plundering was henceforth considered to be dysfunctional and dangerous to discipline. In contrast, communities with lower degrees of statehood, like frontier societies, display a greater level of everyday violence, in which plunder and spoils were a central component of the economies of war and violence.18 Past scholarship’s focus on official records thus reflects the modern attitude towards spoils and occludes the various ways in which diverse groups benefited from Roman warfare and its forcible extraction of resources. This is of particular relevance in regard to recent arguments on Roman statehood, for example by Tan, who argues that Roman government structures were deliberately kept slim by the senatorial elite to avoid interference in the various opportunities for self-enrichment opened up by Roman expansion in the Mediterranean.19 This opportunity was, however, not exclusively restricted to the nobiles but also exploited by individuals like the publicani.20 The importance of such private enterprise for the Roman war effort led Bleckmann to criticize a “simple model of income and expenditure” based on the extant numbers provided by the ancient authors.21 According to him, “only exceptionally do we glimpse at the numerous raids made by marauding soldiers on their own initiative, who neither surrendered their plunder to the aerarium nor made it available for the provisioning of the troops”; the same holds true for private entrepreneurs.22 The close entanglement of private and official actions is probably most apparent in the building of the last Roman fleet in the First Punic War, which clearly indicates that various agents besides those of the Roman state benefitted from the Republic’s wars.23 In this context, Coudry and Humm (2009) have taken a different path to exploring praeda that puts “le butin de guerre au centre de l’enquête” and analyses the manifold ways in which spoils were obtained and distributed. Tracing the development of the various practices of sharing plunder, Coudry stresses that spoils were distributed at several points during a campaign. Similarly, Tarpin draws attention to the fact that when a general seized certain spoils for the state, this did not necessarily mean that soldiers would come away empty-­handed. In combination, these two contributions emphasize that the official sums reported by

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Bleckmann (2016) 91–96. There is a general consensus that official records existed for the deposits made to the treasury, since the literary sources display enormous accuracy in this regard; Coudry (2009b) 60–62; Östenberg (2009) 15–17. Carl & Bömelburg (2011) 15–20. Tan (2017). See also Eder (1990) and Lundgreen (2014) on Roman statehood. Badian (1972); Malmendier (2002); García-Morcillo in this volume. Bleckmann (2016) 83. Bleckmann (2016) 85. Bleckmann (2002) 209–214.

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the ancient authors represent only a part of the total amount of spoils.24 The proposed focus on the spoils themselves thus allows for a less rigid analysis of their specific quantity and quality, and of the situational historical context, bypassing the narrow limits imposed by the debates regarding the economic balance sheet of Roman warfare and the authority over the distribution of plundered resources. III Aims and Approach The present volume follows up on these earlier observations by zooming in on the acquisition and distribution of spoils with the aim of identifying and connecting the various groups that were involved in these processes. While acknowledging the central role of Roman “state” authorities, that is elected officials as well as the Senate, one of the main objectives of the project is to go beyond the level of the state, to explore how and by whom the enforced extraction of surplus resources from the periphery was executed, and how the permanent distribution of externally acquired resources affected Roman society.25 Following the arguments of Harriet Flower, any study of the Roman Republic has to take its evolving conditions and varying frameworks into account that meant that both the spoils, in regard to quality and quantity, as well as the agents involved in acquiring them, varied significantly over the course of the republican period.26 The taking of spoils was not a uniform practice but produced a variety of results – land distributions, triumphs, the enslavement of large numbers of people, the creation of provinces, or the building of roads – that benefitted different social groups at different points in time and space. We have therefore defined “spoils” in very broad terms as any investment or transfer of forcefully exacted resources into areas under Roman dominion. Obviously, items taken from the enemy during wars are considered spoils, such as money, moveable objects, the enslaved, et cetera, but we also consider regular methods of exploitation, such as indemnities and taxation, as more organized components of Roman resource extraction, that is enforced movement of goods, resources and people. Even the cohesion of the ager Romanus and the Italian alliance fall within this broader definition of spoils of war, since the former had been created from confiscated land, while the latter was maintained by the joint campaigning and plundering of Roman and Italian troops.27 In order to maintain the coherence of the volume, we have focused on 24 25 26 27

Coudry (2009b) 50; Tarpin (2009) 94–100. For example, in regard to an evolving perception of Roman superiority due to its military successes, see Loar, MacDonald & Padilla Peralta (2018) and Padilla Peralta & Bernard (2022) 1–12. Flower (2010). See the recent argument for greater attention to the specific settings and shifting connectivities of various periods in Roman Republican history: Padilla Peralta & Bernard (2022). Speitkamp (2017) 27: “Gewaltgemeinschaften beziehen ihre Identität aus der gemeinschaftlichen Ausübung von Gewalt oder sie nutzen Gewalt, um Beute zu erlangen und ihren Lebensunterhalt

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the modes of acquisition and distribution and the effects of resource (re-)allocation, which are necessarily interconnected. It quickly became clear that differentiation was necessary between moveable and ephemeral spoils on the one hand, and the structural spoils of captured land and provinces on the other hand, since the latter created longterm effects. Collective and individual profits could differ significantly in this regard, and the same holds true on a spatial level, since the city of Rome benefited disproportionately from spoils in comparison to the Roman countryside or other urban spaces in Italy. Taking these multiple layers and effects of spoils into account is crucial to our understanding of Roman Republican history. Various agents that receive little attention in the sources were not only responsible for the logistics of Roman armies on campaign but also for processing the military plunder on site. In the long term, the enforced Roman resource re-allocation also impacted the whole Mediterranean and especially Italy, where road- and port-building served both military and economic interests. Immediate and long-term effects could therefore vary widely and were not necessarily connected.28 Furthermore, Linke has pointed out that even successful military campaigns could produce unpredictable outcomes, since large victories regularly led to fierce disputes.29 While regular distributions of medium-sized amounts of praeda, which would have resulted in minor changes in the overall distribution of wealth, were accepted even if the allocation formula was unbalanced, the presence and public display of extraordinary quantities of spoils regularly triggered debates and political conflicts in Rome.30 The triumph of Aemilius Paullus in 167 is an instructive example in this regard, since the discontented soldiers had been rewarded handsomely but were nevertheless of the opinion that their share gave reason to protest when compared to the total amount of spoils taken.31 Without a doubt, spoils had a direct economic benefit, but they also have to be placed in the wider socio-political context of the urbs

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sicherzustellen. Gewalt ist dabei zugleich Teil und Ausdruck der Kultur der Gruppe, sie entscheidet über Status und Prestige sowie über Hierarchie und Führung innerhalb der Gruppe.” (“Violent communities derive their identity from the communal exercise of violence or they use violence to obtain booty and to secure their livelihoods. Violence is at the same time part of and an expression of the group’s culture; it determines status and prestige as well as hierarchy and leadership within the group.”) It was not until the late Republic that this mutually beneficial arrangement broke down; see Roselaar (2019). Cf. Bradley (2014) on Roman roadbuilding and colonization. Linke (2014). This phenomenon can be explained with the arguments on the social basis of obedience and revolt by the sociologist Barrington Moore. According to Moore (1978), inequality and injustice are usually inevitable for the average person and therefore accepted by most, unless a clearly perceived imbalance creates an opening for coordinated protest and a reasonable chance for changing the status quo. Liv. 45.35–40; see also Linke (2017) 401–402.

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Roma, the ager Romanus, and Roman Italy, where they could produce very different effects and reactions.32 IV Structure of the Volume The papers of the volume follow a chronological order to emphasize and track the changes in the quantity and quality of spoils as well as in Roman practices in acquiring and distributing these resources over time. Beginning with the Early Republic, our chronological span is from the fourth to second century. Although some papers reach into the Late Republic, we are of the opinion that the abolition of the tributum, escalating political conflicts in the second half of the second century, and the disruptions of the Social War massively changed Roman practices, as described by Bradley Jordan’s paper. This approach thus acknowledges the very different realities faced by the res publica Romana over the centuries.33 Hans Beck and Nathan Rosenstein introduce the volume by discussing the multifaceted nature of spoils in the Roman Republic. Where Beck discusses the communicative culture of spoils and their reception in Rome, Rosenstein outlines the military and financial effect of spoils. The following comparative section on the reception and perception of spoils in the Greek World, necessarily limited to two case studies, serves to sharpen Roman idiosyncrasies. The emergence of a particular ‘Roman’ way to acquire and deal with spoils is discussed in the section on the Early Republic, which features four papers on the beginning of Roman expansion and the development of large-scale annual warfare. These observations prepare the ground for the discussion of the value and impact of spoils in the Middle Republic that consists of eleven contributions arranged into three subsections. The papers of the first subsection present the changing quality and nature of spoils in the context of overseas expansion. The second subsection explores the emergence of new modes of extraction in the Mid-Republican period, especially in regard to private enterprise and the first provinces. These discussions naturally lead to the third subsection, whose three papers focus on the long-term effects of constant resource reallocation on Roman Italy. The final section of the volume intermeshes with the previous topics by emphasizing the symbolic dimension of spoils in various circumstances. Looking at the papers in more depth, the two introductory contributions by Hans Beck and Nathan Rosenstein examine the abstract as well as concrete qualities of spoils. Beck demonstrates how spoils created a dialectic between the city of Rome and

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Carl & Bömelburg (2011) 25–26; Speitkamp (2017) 29–31. See Kay (2014) 102–105, on the limited evidence for inflation and its consequences in the wake of Roman second-century expansion. Cf. Jordan in this volume for the connection between domestic political issues and the provincialization of the kingdom of Pergamon. Flower (2010).

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the conquered areas. Displaying spoils of every kind from all over the Mediterranean in Rome created an imagined global realm with the urbs at its centre. As is well known from literary evidence on triumphs, the display of exotic animals – for example the notoriously popular elephants – was well received in Rome and seen as proof of Roman domination. In contrast to this communicative culture of spoils, Rosenstein focuses on the hard currency of spoils and their effects on the Roman and Italian economy. Drawing attention to the pattern of privatized and individual profits and the limited share of the state, Rosenstein compares the significant amounts of cash brought back by soldiers, merchants, and others to a huge demand-side economic stimulus. Spoils were thus an important motif, one might say kick-start, for military operations whose profits eventually found their way into the wider Roman economy, and thus benefitted the tax-paying assidui as well. The comparative second section sheds light on the question whether Rome was unique in its strategy of acquiring and distributing spoils. Stefan Fraβ investigates the role and reception of spoils in the Homeric works. Although spoils constituted an important source of prestige and wealth, there still existed a tension between private raiding and the community’s desire to avoid retributory attacks. The case of Odysseus serves as an example for the ambivalent description of spoils, since no individual or family succeeded in increasing their social standing or wealth through raiding. Instead, the narrative depicts the quest for spoils as a bane to the community. Greek discourse on warfare and its spoils thus differed markedly from Rome, where no such ambivalence can be detected. The second comparative paper by Michael Kleu discusses the differences between Roman practices and those of the Macedonian kingdom under Philip II. Both Mace­ don and early Rome experienced a comparable expansion during the fourth century  BCE. The strategies employed in both cases are surprisingly similar, such as the expansion of territory through colonies and resettlements. However, the utilization of spoils by the Hellenistic kings contrasts starkly with the rather haphazard Roman practices of distribution. Unlike the precarious aerarium, Philip took care to amass a substantial war chest and also displayed a coherent strategy characterized by investments of spoils into the army, administration, and economy, which were in turn designed to create profits from future military efforts. The third section focuses on the Early Roman Republic and the origins of annual warfare and the Roman “Beutegemeinschaft”.34 The first paper by Jeremy Armstrong presents shifts in Roman practices regarding spoils of war during the fifth century. Outlining the extremely difficult evidence for this period, Armstrong argues that some broad developments can nevertheless be traced through the anomalies in the otherwise largely generic or formulaic presentation of spoils in the literary sources. Spoils

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Carl & Bömelburg (2011) 14–26.

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remained largely portable throughout the fifth century, but treaties regulating spoils indicate that the importance and authority of the community increased over time. A major shift occurred with the introduction of the tributum and stipendium, which are likely to have further increased state control and also coincided with a shift to territorial expansion. The paper thus provides an instructive insight into the genesis of the Roman military system, which suggests that the initial disposition towards plundering merged with the specific interests of the community that funded the stipendium. The growing importance and consequences of capturing land is further discussed by Peter VanDerPuy, who addresses the consolidation of the Roman elite in connection with the distribution of land and its effect on Roman farmers. VanDerPuy argues that the character of land distributions throughout this period produced a perilous agricultural regime. Land spoliation risked the continuity of farms, necessitating further conquests that solidified the control of an elite specialized in warfare. These pressures lessened with the landmark settlement of 338 BCE which added several communities with full or partial Roman citizenship, thus easing the burden of the tributum, and Latin colonization. VanDerPuy’s paper highlights the difficulties involved in settling Romans on conquered land, a drawn-out process that created its own demands on the community. Audrey Bertrand continues the discussion of the specific practices, difficulties, and expectations regarding captured land in her analysis of the decision-making processes in regard to land distributions and colonial foundations. Bertrand’s paper follows up on Armstrong’s argument and argues that individual decisions and actions still played a decisive role in the fourth century. Especially colonial foundations reveal meaningful choices in the selection of the triumviri coloniae deducendae. These were often former imperium-holders that had been active in the region and were given a prominent part in the distribution of confiscated land to colonists. Although no systematic pattern of collective aristocratic participation emerges, it nevertheless becomes clear that a number of options were available for a time-delayed participation in the distribution and exploitation of conquered land. This also ensured that the commander responsible for dictating the peace terms could not exclusively lay claim to the conquest and settlement of the new territory, which was usually the result of several campaigns. In this way, the practice regarding colonial foundations reveals several mechanisms of involving both the individual general and the wider Roman elite in the distribution of conquered land. The section on the Early Roman Republic is concluded by Marian Helm’s discussion of the increasing appreciation and display of spoils in Rome in the fourth century, which in turn affected Roman warfare and expectations. It is argued that the Samnite Wars initiated an intensification in Roman war efforts that was neither phased down in 304 nor in 290 BCE. This early phase of annual warfare on a grand scale went hand in hand with a boom in public building programs and an increasing visibility of spoils in the city. These developments are seen as an indication of a growing Roman awareness that prosperity and stability depended on permanent military aggression. Conse-

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quently, the passionate and successful appeal of Appius Claudius Caecus against the peace offered by Pyrrhus is interpreted as the successful entrenchment of this mentality for the remainder of the Republic. In combination, the papers in this section show how individual and collective ambitions merged in the fifth and fourth century to encourage and ultimately perpetuate constant annual warfare in the Early Republic. The continued success of this strategy created pressures of its own to keep the ball rolling, which is also demonstrated by Karl-Joachim Hölkeskamp’s paper later in the volume. The following section focuses on the value and impacts of spoils in the Middle Republic and consists of three subsections. The first of these discusses the changing quality and nature of spoils in the context of growing overseas expansion. Saskia Roselaar explores the ways in which the confiscation of land, as a spoil of war, impacted Roman politics and society. This paper investigates in more detail the role of colonies founded on ager publicus confiscated from defeated enemies. Some important changes took place in the way that land taken as spoils was used in the later fourth century, as compared to the earlier period. This may have been the result of a general change in Roman strategy after the Latin War (341–338), when the Roman state created more coherent policies with regard to colonization. However, these policies only crystallized after a period of experimentation in the third century. And although the Roman state devised fairly systematic methods of land distribution between the fifth and third century – in contrast to the very few rules regarding the distribution of other types of spoils –, this did not prevent conflicts about the distribution of ager publicus. Similar to these experiments in land distribution, Marleen Termeer discusses the puzzling inertia in the development of Roman coinage and its connection to warfare. She argues that the earliest phase of Roman coinage shows little evidence for a direct link, despite the increased complexity as well as material gains of Roman warfare, which would have made coinage an ideal instrument for financing war costs and for redistributing spoils. Drawing attention to the different patterns of distribution as well as uses that coinage was put to by Rome as well as its allies, Termeer argues that coinage can have made up only a small part of the financial transactions surrounding warfare. She instead proposes that the early production of coinage should be seen as a series of experiments and might have constituted only one option for the distribution of spoils, especially bullion. Therefore, the early coinage displays few links to Roman war finances and might have primarily been used as a distinct vehicle for communication with and between the various groups involved in the Roman war effort. The question of Roman war-financing is further investigated by Michael Taylor’s paper on the role of the tributum in the context of mid-republican warfare. The traditional model for interpreting the tributum, set forth by Nicolet,35 suggests that it was essentially a loan by the citizen body to the state, which provided start-up capital for Rome’s

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Nicolet (1980) 149–169; cf. Rosenstein (2016b).

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wars and was to be refunded if sufficient loot was taken on the campaign. Taylor argues that the massive amounts of spoils flowing into the Roman treasury insufficiently covered the military expenditures, so that tributum remained an essential resource for the financing of ongoing military and naval deployments and was rarely refunded. According to Taylor, tributum was mainly designed to spur military participation, but it also constituted the community’s claim to a share of the spoils, which might have been addressed by the manubial buildings of victorious generals. The financial balance sheet of Rome’s wars is also examined by John Rich’s detailed account and analysis of the scope of wealth reallocation to Roman Italy in the period from 218 to 167 BCE. Rich meticulously lists the spoils and donatives from this period and emphasizes the regional differences in the return of spoils. Especially the wars in northern Italy at the beginning of the second century BCE operated at a significant loss, which might have been offset by the founding of numerous large colonies. Yet even the profitable wars in the East, while yielding very substantial revenues, did not cover the costs of the wars. The new riches did, however, result in some changes, like the double payout to soldiers: they received a share of the spoils after the victory in the field, and another one in the form of the donative paid at the triumph. Thus, the (relatively light) burden of tributum remained stable for the majority of the population after the Second Punic War, while the benefits for those involved in the wars – commanders, legionaries, private entrepreneurs – increased considerably. The second sub-section explores the modes of extraction and the Roman approach towards exploiting overseas territories organized into provinces. The role of private entrepreneurs has been somewhat underappreciated in the literature, despite the fact that they were crucial in regard to military campaigns as well as tax-farming. These commercial interests and the agents involved in them are discussed in detail by Marta García Morcillo with special emphasis on their role in the commercialization of the spoils of war. While a part of the spoils, including prisoners, eventually ended up in Rome, the sources often attest the sale of spoils on the battlefield, which benefited both the Roman aerarium, the general, and his soldiers. In the majority of cases, the spoils were sold en bloc to traders who accompanied the army. The paper reconstructs the structures, actors, and institutions that shaped the markets responsible for processing spoils and discusses markets both as institutions and as places of economic exchange. Overall, a considerable sector of the civilian economy benefitted from warfare and was also instrumental in providing an adaptable redistribution system and effective structures for the optimization of war profits. These observations are especially interesting in comparison with the following paper by Toni Ñaco del Hoyo and Gerard Cabezas-Guzmán on the development of the provincial administration on the Iberian Peninsula. They show that Roman activities in Hispania were mostly limited to the military actions of the republican armies and their commanders between 218 and c. 100 BCE. During the first half of the second century, Roman armies seem to have sustained themselves from local supplies that

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aimed to make the wars in in the region self-sufficient. Due to the volatility of the politico-military situation, the acquisition of these supplies may have differed little from pillaging or requisitioning in an irregular fashion. Commanders in Hispania did not follow long-term strategies of provincialization after the Second Punic War, but rather short-term goals of obtaining spoils, army wages, and supplies from their provincial commands. The authors argue that this irregular, but reasonably sufficient organization and extraction of resources worked well until the outbreak of the great Lusitanian and Celtiberian Wars in the second half of the century, which required larger troop deployments and a more sustainable policy in regard to the administration of the Hispanic provinces. A similarly idiosyncratic development can be attested for the province of Asia, whose early history is presented by Bradley Jordan. His reappraisal of the evidence raises serious questions in regard to the paradigm of a strict organization of the provincial administration based on principles of revenue maximization. He instead argues that the Roman takeover did not dramatically alter the existing structures, a situation that only changed in the course of the Mithridatic War, which saw a massive growth in the exploitation of the province and the institution of regular and substantial extractions by Rome. The dramatic realignment of Roman provincial policies thus mainly resulted from specific situational demands, such as Sulla’s desperate need for cash to fight both Mithridates and his enemies in Rome. On a more general basis, the paper not only demonstrates that political instability in Rome affected the administration of the provinces, but it also shows that this was a reciprocal relation as demonstrated by the unrest caused by the Pergamene inheritance in the context of the Gracchan reforms. The third subsection focuses on the long-term value and impact of spoils on Roman Italy in the Middle Republic. Simon Lentzsch opens the section with a discussion on the reignition of warfare and raiding in Roman Italy during the Second Punic War. In many respects, this phenomenon resembled a return to the ‘anarchy’ of the previous century, especially once the conflict turned into a lengthy war of attrition. The bankruptcy of the Roman treasury created problems as well as opportunities for Romans, Carthaginians, and also Italians, as a large part of the military operations was located in allied territory after 216 BCE. In the context of the volume, it is noteworthy that the reversion of the (former) allies to small-scale raiding and plundering suggests that the expectation of acquiring spoils had not disappeared in the wake of the Roman conquest but had been channelled into military operations under Roman leadership. Lentzsch also stresses that the devastation and plundering of major cities, like Capua and Tarentum, resulted in a massive redistribution of wealth and power that firmly established Roman dominance in Italy. A more indirect utilization of spoils in the restructuring of Italy is presented by John Patterson. Tracing the history of Roman road- and aqueduct-building projects, Patterson argues that the colossal sums required drew on the spoils brought in by successful wars, like M’. Curius Dentatus’ campaign against the Samnites and the building of the

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Aqua Marcia after the capture of both Carthage and Corinth. The building enterprises played a crucial role in distributing wealth and served to transform ephemeral spoils into permanent profits by improving Italy’s infrastructure. Therefore, the building of roads and aqueducts had significant economic and political consequences beyond the small circle of military personnel and the city of Rome. Whether financed directly or indirectly by spoils, these enterprises provided sources of employment, distributed the wealth derived from Rome’s conquests to citizens and allies, and reinforced the patronage networks of the Roman elite. Katharina Huemoeller’s paper focuses on the human spoils of the Roman conquest. Applying a wider lens to this topic, the paper stresses the agency of war captives and differentiates between groups of captured people in a qualitative rather than quantitative approach. Huemoeller emphasizes that captives could be used in variable modes to extract profits and long-term benefits. For example, the ransom or release of captives placed them in debt and obedience to the general responsible. This again emphasizes the different options and benefits available to the commanding general, which were in turn determined by the situation on site. Moreover, the specific handling of different groups of captives demonstrates that all captives were exploited as human spoils of war, but this did not happen in a uniform way. Seen from this perspective, captives met Roman demands for slave labour, but also more refined requirements for specialists who in turn left their own imprint on Roman society. The final paper of the section examines the potential profits that an ordinary legionary could expect. François Gauthier suggests that military service in the Middle Republic was not as profitable for Rome’s assidui as is often claimed. After all, nothing could guarantee soldiers a specific sum in donatives, because the amount was left to the general’s discretion. Here, Gauthier stresses the randomness involved in the soldier’s share of plunder. In contrast to the material rewards, military service reliably conveyed prestige and social standing through an elaborate system of rewards and gifts designed to entice young men to show bravery. Furthermore, conflicts like the P ­ yrrhic War and the Second Punic War were also about defending the ager Romanus from f­oreign de­ predations, indicating that the motives driving Rome and its citizens to go to war were complex and not solely limited to material gains. The last section of the volume investigates the symbolic dimension of spoils, specifically their role as vehicles for communication and markers of prestige for the Roman elite. Naturally, the image of superiority and prosperity was a constant phenomenon inherent in the celebrations of Roman victories, which was conveyed in the taking and distribution of spoils. Even when the economic benefits derived from constant warfare increased in value and wealth, the basic message that the taking of spoils implied stayed the same. The first paper of this section returns to the appropriation of spoils by the emerging patricio-plebeian elite in the fourth and third century. Karl-Joachim Hölkeskamp examines the self-fashioning of the new elite and the way in which it utilized the dis-

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play of spoils to enhance its status. Captured armour and works of art were displayed in the urban landscape of Rome, while the material spoils funded monumental buildings, themselves adorned with treasures. The growing quantity and diversity of Roman spoils drove the development of new multimedia-based strategies of self-presentation, thus establishing new practices in the competition between the nobiles. As in the case of provincial extractions, the changing nature of spoils rather than changes in Roman warfare or political strategies seem to have provided opportunities which were seized by the competitive-minded nobiles. In the context of this competition, spoils provided both building blocks as well as novelties to the Roman aristocrats’ memorial web. The symbolic value and communication that spoils provided are further illustrated by Laura Pfuntner. Exploring the relationship between Rome and the cities of Sicily, her paper shows how Sicilian communities were able to deploy the symbolic power of spoils in their political communication with Rome. The island provides a particularly rich area of investigation due to three major events that picked the ancient authors’ interest: the conquest of Syracuse by Marcellus in 212, the Third Carthaginian War, and Verres’ governorship. In the first case, the city suffered considerably from the storming and plundering of the city, yet a group of Syracusans afterwards managed to gain Marcellus’ patronage. Later, the normalization of relations was expressed by the return of statues previously taken by Carthage in the aftermath of Scipio Aemilianus’ capture of the city in 146. In the Verres episode, the removal of spoils was seen as a serious slight against the Sicilian towns, not just because of their economic value, but especially because of their symbolic connotations. In this case, spoils supported civic identities that had undergone tremendous upheaval and could also be deployed as argumentative vehicles in the provincials’ communication with Rome. The symbolic communication that spoils created is further explored in the concluding paper of this section. Michael Fronda considers the logistics and implications of the massive in-flow of spoils into Roman Italy in the age of overseas’ expansion. Arguing that returning Roman armies would necessarily display spoils to a Romano-Italian audience beyond the triumphal procession, the paper looks at various ways that spoils moved from the provinces through Italy. This focus on the Italian reception of spoils is supported by a synoptic view on manubial constructions in communities throughout the peninsula. Less obvious, but potentially discernible in the archaeological and epigraphic record, are local Italian monumental constructions funded by war spoils, which indicate the adoption of similar manubial practices by Roman and local elites. Furthermore, the return of victorious and spoils-laden armies might have created a feeling of community and reinforced Rome’s claim to leadership of Italy through the distribution and display of the material benefits of joint warfare.

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V Outlook While the volume mainly focuses on the fifth to second centuries BCE, it also offers an outlook into the first century and beyond. While the early and mid-Republican strategies and approaches towards spoils and revenue extraction might seem chaotic, these nevertheless constituted a complicated web of interests, expectations and claims that had to be constantly negotiated. This dynamic, if outwardly chaotic, handling of the profits of warfare ossified in the course of the second century, when the abolition of the tributum removed a major communal component of Roman warfare. At the same time, revenues from the provinces grew in importance and quantity, but were limited to a shrinking group of beneficiaries  – the Italian allies’ omission from these being the most salient. Indeed, it could be argued that the imbalance between the available revenue – gathered from the provinces – and the growing inequality in its distribution further exacerbated the fissures that became apparent in the Late Republic. Thus, the rules regarding the collection and distribution of spoils, some of which had never fully been established in any case, proved unsustainable when Rome’s dominion in the Mediterranean expanded to include ever more territory, and thus ever more spoils. This first led to the Social War of 91–88 BCE, after which the Italian allies were given Roman citizenship, allowing them to enjoy fully the spoils of Roman dominance in the Mediterranean. However, as the first century BCE progressed, the precarious balance that had existed between the generals who acquired the spoils, the Senate that decided on their use, and the people who enjoyed the economic benefits of expansion, spectacularly broke down. Emerging from this period of turmoil, the Roman Empire then transformed the irregular and oftentimes violent extraction of resources into a regular and more predictable regime of taxation – which could, nevertheless, be cruel and unjust. In return, the Pax Romana brought stability and prosperity to the inhabitants of the Mediterranean world. The Empire’s strength lay in the fact that it managed to unite particular local assets into a larger structure, which enabled the efficient exploitation of these assets – whether economic, fiscal, cultural or human. Ancient authors and later historians sought to justify Roman expansion and rule by the stability and prosperity of the Imperial period, ignoring the obvious inequalities of power and the exploitative nature of Roman rule.36 Although it cannot be denied that living standards on average grew,37 the Roman emphasis on exploitation must not be forgotten. The Roman conquest of Italy was extremely violent, with as many 36 Verg. Aen. 6.851–3: ‘Remember, Roman, it is for you to rule the nations with your power, / (that will be your skill) to crown peace with law, / to spare the conquered, and subdue the proud’ (tu regere imperio populos, Romane, memento / (hae tibi erunt artes), pacique imponere morem, / parcere subiectis et debellare superbos). See Plin. HN 3.39: Italy was ‘chosen by the power of the gods … to gather the scattered realms and to soften their customs (…), and to give civilization to mankind’. See Woolf (1998) 54–60. 37 Jongman (2017).

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as 70,000 people enslaved during the Samnite Wars (even if Livy’s figures are exaggerated) and many towns destroyed,38 and this level of violence persisted in later periods as well. After the conquest, rather than striving for ‘integration and assimilation, connectedness and growth’,39 the main aim of Rome was to maintain its hegemony and collect material wealth from the conquered territories.40 Thus, the spoils of war played an important role in the Roman economy, its politics, society and culture, both in the Republican and the Imperial period. With this book, we aim to shed further light on the essential role that spoils played from the very earliest periods in Roman history. Marian Helm Westfälische Wilhelms Universität Münster [email protected] Saskia T. Roselaar Independent scholar [email protected]

38 39 40

Liv. 10.29-17-18 mentions a total of approximately 35.000 casualties for the battle of Sentinum. See Cornell (1995) 361. Meijer (2011) 13. Mattingly (2011) 164, 212. See Millett (1990) 6; Hingley (2005) 120.

Global Spoils on a Local Stage The Case of Republican Rome Hans Beck In the 1850s, British botanist Richard Deakin conducted extensive site research in the Colosseum in Rome. The building was in ruins, the type of monumental rubble that had inspired artists like Giovanni Piransi a century earlier. The stones were dead, so to speak, but the Colosseum’s flora was very much alive. Among the ruins Deakin detected over 400 species of plants, most of them common in Italy: cypresses, capers, thistle, many plants of the pea tribe, and an extensive range of grass. Other plants presented a conundrum; they were found nowhere else in Italy. When Deakin published his findings in his seminal book Flora of the Colosseum of Rome (1855), he entertained an intriguing explanation. The foreign plants were brought into the arena as seeds on the fur and in the stomachs of animals – lions, tigers, giraffes, and the like. As the Romans transported those animals from various destinations in their Mediterranean imperium, they carried with them the lifeblood of distant lands. When the animals were exposed to the Roman crowd, usually to fight and die in the arena, they left their botanical imprint on the place. In Deakin’s days, and according to his reading, they had overtaken the building. In his own words, the plants of the Colosseum grew to “flourish, in triumph, upon the ruins” (vi). Nature had prevailed over culture. It is difficult to prove, or disprove, this ingenious interpretation. But the metaphor reminds us of a vexed interplay that is innate in Roman political culture. The local horizon of Rome, its urban centre and the city itself was couched in a dense network of translocal, regional, and global extensions. Each one of these arenas of local and global interaction was malleable, changing over time. The global was subject to an ongoing expansion of the imperium and a corresponding intensification of cultural contact. At the height of the process, the urban population of Rome had access to an enormous market economy that provided them with material and immaterial goods from a global network. Such omnipresence of the global in the local naturally invited calibrations of the local itself. Rome’s local world of the fourth century BCE was not the same as that of, say, the first century BCE. The city, its urban layout and design, its demography, populace, and structures to administer both, in short, the entire human and spatial on-

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tology was in persistent flux. Add to this a dramatic dynamic of increase – of all types of material resources and of the practices of competition they inspired – and we begin to see the local global-helix of Roman political culture taking shape. One lead to the intricate entanglement of local and global vectors of Roman culture is the influx of praedae into the local horizon of the city: loot, spoils, plunder from abroad, with all fine-grained semantic distinctions in related practices of extraction. The articles assembled in this volume document how spoils added a distinct flavour to the experience of the republic. Speaking to the changing nature of praedae – changes of economic and symbolic value, of impact, and of distribution – the authors unravel an intriguing script of cultural mediation, political as well as military trajectories, and corresponding discourses about war and empire. War spoils tie these investigative directions together in an almost congenial manner. If the transformation of republican Rome was determined by an accelerated dynamic of the urban design, the influx of spoils provided the single most important impetus to this development. As much as they altered the cityscape of Rome, they also visualized and, effectively, recalibrated Roman ideas about conquest, expansion, and plunder. In the most marked variant of the interaction between money and power, spoils themselves inspired a culture of more spoils. The urban aesthetics of Rome turned the act of acquiring loot and plunder into an unchallenged, obligatory communal practice. In other words, plunder became part of the Roman DNA. The reading of spoils as both foundational and inspirational to the political culture of the republic is supported by the fact that praedae entered the public sphere of Rome in a highly charged ritual. Countless literary traditions bear testimony to the very moment when the spoils came to and in the city. For instance, in Livy’s depiction of T.  Quinctius Flamininus’ triumph from 196 BCE (34.52), we learn how on the first day “arms, weapons, and statues of bronze and marble” were displayed in the pompa triumphalis. On the second day, gold and silver was showcased, minted and unminted (the latter would imply all sorts of objects from precious metals). On the last day, this continued with the display of golden crowns and unspecified gifts (dona) from Greek cities, as an expression of gratitude for their liberation, we would suppose. The crowns were followed by the perpetrators of Greek freedom: noble prisoners and hostages, including the sons of two kings, from Macedon and Sparta. It is easy to see the inherent logic of the three-legged arrangement: first military spoils, then financial assets, then mostly human personnel, live spoils, as it were, that attested to the triumphator’s ultimate victory on the battlefield. Once these spoils entered the world of the Republic, each category was on a different trajectory: the people were thrown into prison or given hostage status; sooner or later they perished. Financial assets ran into the Roman economy to support the GDP. More concrete in its manifestation was the subset of military spoils and robbed objects, many of which were on display in the public sphere. The spectacle of the tri-

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umph as such was an ephemeral matter; and so were, ultimately, the lives of captives. Beyond the day, triumphal generals minted and circulated high-value coins to herald their fame and achievements more permanently. The dedication and display of material spoils allowed for a similar permanency. Showcased in the public sphere – not only in temples, buildings, altars etc., but also on them – their symbolism permeated both the imagination of the Roman people and their urban culture. Visibility was key. For one of the earliest instances of the display of spoils, it has been noted by many that the famous rostra, rams of warships captured in the Battle of Antium in 338 BCE, were mounted to the side of the speaker’s platform in the Forum Romanum. The spoils were thus placed, literally, in the heart of the public discourse at Rome, wielding impact over all visible and audible expressions of politics. In doing so, the rams’ communicative force was exemplary rather than exceptional. Gaius Duilius’ naval column from 260 BCE, itself a permanent signifier of a triumph and adorned with Carthaginian rams, stood in close vicinity to the rostra. The intersignification between both monuments was obvious. To ensure this would not fade over time, the columna Duilia was renovated on at least two occasions, in the second century BCE and again under Augustus. Presumably, this included a touch-up to the spoils themselves. Other places were under the spell of praedae, too. On the Campus Martius, muster station of the army and assembly point of the comitia centuriata, the close connection between society, warfare, and aggrandizement through spoils generated an all-new cultural aesthetics of plunder. The famous Altar of Domitius Ahenobarbus, dating to c. 122, suggests that much. There is a lively debate over the sculpted marble plaques that decorated the base of a statuary group. Among them are the famous census-scene and three panels of marine processions. Most recently, the traditional reading of these panels has found simultaneous endorsement and rejection from different scholars. No matter what side we pick, there is a consensus that the visual program praises the influx of riches from abroad – riches that were acquired in war and expansion. The language of the monument, beautifully carved and decorated with cornucopia and other expressions of communal well-being, thus subscribed to, and in turn fostered, a communicative culture of spoils. Spoils and loot were omnipresent in the public sphere; in fact, it was a particular trait of this public sphere that it was riddled with praedae from every corner of the imperium. In other words, spoils were not only an adornment or sublime urban décor; their presence in all media of the day made the public sphere. This is by no means hyperbolic. The first clearing away of spoils happened as early as 179 BCE. Cassius Hemina (FRH 6 F 26) reports that it was initiated by the censor M. Aemilius Lepidus who ordered a sweep of the area in Capitolio, among other public places in town. Livy is more loquacious, saying that among the removed signa militaria were all sorts of spoils and trophies. The spoils were not objectionable as such. What had caught the censor’s eye was, first, the fact that the signa were attached in a random, almost eclectic manner – on columns, fornices, temple walls, etc.; and second, that this

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was done without approval of the Senate. If we follow Hemina and Livy, the urban horizon of Rome was cluttered with objects that aestheticized the politics of plunder. Within less than two decades after Flamininus’ pompous pompa, Rome’s culture of spoils seems to have gone overboard already, so much so that the senate decided to intervene. Karl-Joachim Hölkeskamp has described the political culture of Rome as subject to the omnipresent force of physical presence. The paradigm advances earlier conceptualizations such as the notion of a face-to-face society in that it fully thinks through the assumptions – and consequences – of localized interaction. In a nutshell, Hölkeskamp argues that the lead actors in Roman politics, along with those groups of society before whom the conduct of politics took place, were subject to the demands of a particular, immediate presence. Such a demand for physical interaction created a rather unique canvas for Roman political culture to play out, including strategies of seeking distinction, canvassing for office, or compensating defeat in elections. In this vein of inquiry, the manageable realm of Rome’s local horizon was formative, comprehensive, and all-embracing. The spoils discussed in this book with so much detail, nuanced difference, and rich insight into context were critical to the ways in which Roman politicians navigated through the needs of physical presence. And, much like Deakin’s dislocated animals, they left their imprint on place and practice. Removed from their former environment and transplanted to Rome, they tied into experiences and conversations about the benefits of expansion, hegemony, and the plunder that came from both. By extension, they fuelled attitudes about the transformation of Rome, city and empire alike, into an increasingly global community. Hans Beck

Westfälische Wilhelms-Universität Münster [email protected]

Spoils and the Roman Military* Nathan Rosenstein No brief chapter can hope to cover adequately the topic of spoils and the Roman military, a subject both seemingly straightforward and yet surprisingly complex. On the one hand, one could state simply that Roman armies ran on spoils. Fundamentally, spoils were anything stripped from an enemy, which is the root meaning of spoliare, but especially weapons and armour. Armies and their commanders eagerly acquired these, as the wagonloads of captured weapons and armour that graced numerous triumphs attest. Possibly the point was to melt them down for the value of their metallic content, but this seems unlikely. Rather, they appear to have been displayed on temples and other public buildings and in private houses. Rome apparently was full of them. The dictator M. Iunius Pera armed 6,000 debtors and convicts in 216 with spoils from C. Flaminius’ Gallic triumph seven years before (Liv. 23.14.3–4). And the practice seems to have continued to the end of the Republic. The Catilinarian conspirator C. Cethegus kept a large stash of swords and daggers in his home – he claimed to be a collector, but many of these were certainly spoils (Cic. Cat. 3.10). For soldiers and their officers such spoils had real value. Decorations for valour came not simply for killing or wounding an enemy in single combat, but also for then stripping him of his armour and weapons (Plb. 6.39.3–4). And of course, once hung up outside a citizen’s house, spoils became a permanent testimony to his gloria and the foundation of his fama. Similarly, armies despoiled cities in large measure by stripping them of their works of art – statues, paintings and the like. Here, too, the principal aim seems to have been to enhance the glorification and renown of the victors, as well as the degradation of the vanquished, since these things apparently were not sold off but displayed in temples and other public places both in Rome and at other towns in Italy, as well as in private homes.1 For generals, an added bonus was the beneficium and the resulting gratia that resulted from bestowing these treasures on their followers. Such fa* 1

My thanks to Saskia Roselaar and Marian Helm for organizing the conference at which an earlier version of this chapter was presented and to the attendees for their helpful comments and criticisms. It goes without saying that the imperfections that remain are my responsibility. E. g. Marcellus’ spoils from the sack of Syracuse: Plb. 9.10.13, cf. 2; Plut. Marc. 21.1–3, 30.4.

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vours, and the obligation to reciprocate they entailed, constituted the currency of political life under the Republic, so in that sense spoils represented real value to aristocrats. Much more important to officers and enlisted men alike, however, was a very specific form of spoils, namely, money. The prospect of loot undoubtedly constituted a major reason – if not the main reason – that most recruits were willing to come forward when called upon to serve. We can see this as early as Polybius’ account of how the consuls persuaded the assembly to vote to dispatch an army to aid the Mamertines in 264 and as late as Sallust’s description of the enthusiasm that gripped the public in 107 at the prospect of serving with Marius in Africa.2 Riches won from the enemy fired up the troops for battle when combat impended and spurred them to risk their lives: at the Telamon river in 225, the legionaries were at first terrified by the formidable appearance of their Gallic opponents, but at the same time their gold ornaments and the prospect of winning them made the Romans twice as eager for the fight (Plb. 2.29.7–9). And no doubt the same was true from the very beginning of the Republic right down to the end and beyond. War was just one big ‘booty call’ for Roman and Italian soldiers. Things look rather different though when the focus moves from the level of individual motivation to the aims of the Roman government. For many years the communis opinio on the relationship between war and wealth in the minds of the Republic’s ruling class seemed equally straightforward. In the words of Harris: “No Roman senator had to convince other senators that victory was, in general, wealth-producing” or that “both war and expansion were profitable”.3 However, recent studies have demonstrated that in fact Rome’s wars in the middle Republic typically did not pay for themselves when it came time to total up the profits and costs to the treasury. The great hauls of loot and indemnity payments the Republic’s eastern conquests brought to the treasury in the first decades of the second century were very much the exception rather than typical. Normally the wars of the second, third and very probably the fourth centuries cost the aerarium much more than the value of the spoils that resulted from the victories that Roman armies won.4 So, while many individuals certainly profited from the spoils of Rome’s victories – not just the soldiers and officers who took them, but also the sutlers and other camp followers who traded goods and services for the soldiers’ loot, as well as the merchants who bought cheap and later sold dear what the soldiers and their commanders had to dispose of quickly – the treasury usually did not.5 This pattern of privatizing the profits from war at the expense of the public should not surprise. James Tan has recently identified a similar practice in the late Republic. By limiting in various ways the state’s share of the profits from Rome’s empire, Republican aristocrats were able to appropriate for themselves the money left ‘on the table’ 2 3 4 5

Plb. 1.11.2; Sall. Iug. 84.4; see Rosenstein (2011) 142 for other examples. Harris (1979) 56, 68. Rosenstein (2011) 145–158; (2016a). Traders and the sale of spoils: Liv. 10.17.5–7; Plb. 14.7.2–3; Sall. Iug. 64.5–6; Caes. BGall. 2.33.6–7.

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through extortionate rates of interest charged to provincial subjects, bribes, gifts, rents and other kinds of payments.6 Yet why did the voting public put up with this arrangement for so long? For the money that the treasury paid out to fund Rome’s wars came ultimately from the assidui, those citizens whose wealth qualified them either to serve in the legions or, if they or a son were not called upon to serve, to pay tributum, an annual assessment on their wealth that paid the legionaries’ stipendium and other military expenses. As Nicolet demonstrated, tributum was not strictly speaking a tax, but rather a kind of obligatory loan from the assidui to the treasury to cover the costs of waging war.7 As such, it could in theory be repaid, and on occasion it was.8 But examples are few and far between, and while the absence of evidence is not of course evidence of absence, the fact that Rome’s wars did not typically return enough spoils to the treasury to cover the cost of the legionaries’ stipendium – let alone all of the other costs involved – precluded at least full reimbursement of tributum and very likely any repayment at all. The fact that collection of tributum was in the hands of the tribuni aerarii made the issue even more politically sensitive. They were wealthy assidui who were responsible in some way for payment of the tributum that the Senate ordered to be levied every year. Early on, they apparently advanced the required funds to the soldiers directly out of their own funds and subsequently collected the individual assessments from their less wealthy fellow citizens. At some point however, the length of the campaigns that the Republic’s armies conducted and their distance from Rome must have necessitated having the tribuni aerarii turn the money over to the aerarium, which will then have furnished the necessary funds to the army for its pay and expenses during the year.9 Thus the men who were most immediately out of pocket (and who may never have been able to collect all of what they were owed from their fellow citizens) were also those whom the censors assigned to the higher census classes and, consequently, whose votes counted heavily in the centuriate assembly and in all probability the tribal assembly as well. These were not men whose support the senators would have been eager to alienate, and that will have forced the senators to take into account their opinions as they shaped the Republic’s foreign policy – at least down to 167 BCE. For in that year a crucial change occurred in the relationship between the citizens and the financing of Roman warfare. As a consequence of the massive spoils brought to Rome from the conquest of Macedon, the Senate suspended payment of tributum. Thereafter neither ordinary taxpayers nor especially the tribuni aerarii had a financial

6 7 8 9

Tan (2017) 89–90 and passim. Nicolet (1976b) 19–26; see also (1980) 149–169. Most notably in 187 from the spoils from Manlius Vulso’s campaign in Asia Minor: Liv. 39.7.4–5; other instances in Rosenstein (2011) 137–138. Nicolet (1980) 161–164. On the procedures for collecting tributum and paying stipendium see Tan (2023).

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stake in how the Senate conducted the Republic’s foreign affairs, especially in its decisions on war and peace. That left the patres a free hand to do as they pleased abroad.10 This is true as far as it goes, but it does not answer the question why a similar pattern obtained prior to 167. Year in and year out, assidui and tribuni aerarii for the most part paid assessments out without demur and yet with scant prospect that these ‘loans’ would ever be repaid. Only on rare occasions is there evidence of resistance. It took the enormous financial demands of the Second Punic War’s early years to provoke protests from taxpayers, and even then a gesture of shared sacrifice on the part of the patres apparently restored acquiescence (Liv. 26.35.1–36.12). And earlier, during the First Punic War, the destruction of several fleets in battle and by storms along with the accompanying loss of lives and money possibly led to a vote in the assembly banning further campaigns at sea – temporarily as it turned out.11 Otherwise, the assidui were content to leave foreign policy in the hands of the patres during the middle Republic, even though they were supplying the funds that enabled the Senate to carry out its decisions to go to war. Why? There are a number of possible answers, and fear is certainly one. The assembly’s vote in 201 to go to war with Philip V is a case in point. The voters reversed their initial rejection of the motion once the consul had conjured up the spectre of a Macedonian invasion of Italy if Rome did not bring the war first to Greece.12 Perhaps, too, moral arguments carried weight – appeals to fides, and the like.13 There was as well a general sense among ordinary citizens of subordination and deference to the collective auctoritas of the patres.14 And possibly a sense of arrogant superiority led Romans to demand war when others had not sufficiently humbled themselves before the Republic’s majesty. But against all these considerations was the hard fact of the monetary sacrifices they imposed on individual assidui. What made the benefits worth the costs? A large part of the answer, as I have suggested in a previous publication, lay in the fact that tributum on an individual basis was ordinarily not much and well within the means of most assidui.15 This condition resulted from the combination of an expanding number of Roman citizens over the course of the later fourth and third centuries and a relatively fixed military establishment during the same period. After the enfranchisement of the Latins in 338, the size of the Roman population grew from around 347,000 to over 900,000 on the eve of Hannibal’s invasion. Of these, half were males, of whom roughly 63 % will have been 17 years or older; thus, the number of adult men grew from about 109,300 to around 283,500. On the assumption that proletarii constituted about 14 % of 10 11 12 13 14 15

Tan (2017) 93–94 for a concise statement of this important point. Zon. 8.14, cf.  Plb. 1.39.7 with Tan (2017) 108–113 for discussion. See Bleckmann (2002); Linke (2017) on the political repercussion of Roman fleet operations. Liv. 31.6.3–8.1; see Quillin (2004) and Eckstein (2006) 281–282, arguing that the fear element of the consul’s speech in Livy reflects the gist of what was actually said on that occasion. Burton (2011). Rosenstein (2012) 13–18; Nicolet (1980) 165. Rosenstein (2016b) 80–97 on what follows with additional citations.

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these men, the number of assidui increased between 338 and 218 from approximately 94,000 to about 244,000. During that same period, the Republic annually fielded two legions between 338 and sometime before 311, when four legions were levied. Thereafter, as nearly as we can determine, that number remained generally constant every year, except for rare emergencies like the Sentinum campaign in 295 and those occasions when a proconsul brought his army home to triumph while the two new consuls and their legions embarked on the year’s campaign. Possibly after 232 the rate of mobilization increased, when a legion may have been added for service in Sicily while another may have been levied for Sardinia starting in 227 (although both of these remain quite uncertain). In other words, while the number of assidui grew by over 250 %, the Republic’s annual military establishment only rarely exceeded what it had been in 311, and then even if it did so, it grew by no more than fifty percent. As a result, the amount of tributum that needed to be collected every year remained more or less fixed, while the financial burden it imposed came to be shared across an increasingly large number of individual tributum-payers, in effect decreasing the cost borne by any one of them. And the fact that the Senate waited until shortly before 311 to double the size of its armies despite a nearly threefold increase in the number of citizens in the wake of the Latin War leads to the suspicion that this goal – and not enlarging the pool of potential recruits – was uppermost in the patres’ minds as they contemplated a settlement of the war in 338.16 How then did the spoils the Republic’s victories produced affect the ability of assidui to pay tributum year after year after year – if they affected it at all? For the diminishing annual cost of tributum certainly made its payment progressively easier to bear. And there certainly is no doubt that Rome in the middle Republic was a relatively prosperous place by pre-industrial standards and that this prosperity was fairly widely distributed among the citizenry. A pair of passages that I have drawn attention to in earlier papers, but that have not generally received the emphasis that they deserve, demonstrate this critical fact.17 The first is Livy’s account of Rome’s difficulty in finding rowers to man a new fleet in 214. A sufficient number of proletarii, who ordinarily furnished the crews for the Republic’s navy, was lacking, and so the Senate had recourse to drafting slaves. Livy preserves (24.11.5–9) the criteria according to which their owners were required to furnish slaves and their maintenance. Citizens with a census in 220 worth between 50,000 and 100,000 asses were to supply one slave and half a year’s pay while those whose census fell between 100,000 and 300,000 asses had to provide three slaves along with a full year’s pay for each of them. Wealthier citizens had to furnish more, up to senators, from whom eight with a year’s pay were required. The key point here is that citizens in first two categories were those whom the censors had placed in the third and first census

16 17

Cf. Tan (2020). Especially Rosenstein (2008) 5–8.

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classes. That the Senate could assume citizens in these census categories would own one or three slaves tells us that these men were hardly subsistence peasants. Rather, they were middling to quite prosperous farmers who for the most part used the extra labour their slaves provided to produce a surplus for the market. Crucially, the fact that slave ownership was common among citizens in these census categories tells us quite a lot about the distribution of wealth in the later third century in light of a second passage, namely Polybius’ much-studied survey of Rome’s military resources in 225 (Plb. 2.24.1–17). What is most revealing here is the fact that the Republic could count on 23,000 citizens whose wealth qualified them for service as equites equo privato (Plb. 2.24.14). These cavalrymen were drawn from among the wealthier citizens in the first census class.18 They were an elite within the first class, meaning that the first census class as a whole must have been larger than 23,000. How much larger is unfortunately nowhere attested, but a reasonable guess might put the figure around two to three times larger, roughly 50,000 to 75,000. If we assume the members of the first class numbered somewhere within that range, how large would the second and third classes have had to have been, if the assidui under the age of 46 on the rolls in 225 numbered 273,000 and assuming that the distribution of wealth among them was ­generally pyramidal in shape? The point here is not to pile speculation upon conjecture; rather, it is to underscore the fact that a substantial portion of the mid-Republican citizenry, perhaps between a third and half, possessed a productive capacity well above the level of mere subsistence. Whence came this general prosperity? One important source undoubtedly will have been through the exploitation of the fixed spoils of Rome’s wars, namely the land confiscated from defeated enemies and turned into colonial or viritane allotments. While the Republic lost the assidui who joined Latin colonies and so decreased the pool of taxpayers and potential legionary recruits, it also eased any population pressures on its farmland.19 Colonization prevented some holdings from being divided among heirs into smaller and smaller plots, with corresponding declines in the wealth of the families that farmed them, until their cultivators dropped out of the assiduate class and became proletarii. It is important, however, not to overestimate the effects of colonization. Although precise figures are unattainable, a reasonable estimate of the numbers of settlers who benefited from colonial or viritane distributions of land runs to around 80,000 to 90,000 in the eighty years between 298 and 218, while in the period from 200 to 167 they might have numbered around 30,500; on average, then, about 1,000 colonists a year.20 How many of these colonists were Romans is impossible to

18 19 20

Plb. 6.20.9 with Walbank (1957) 700–701. And, as Tan (2020) points out, because the tributum was based primarily on an assiduus’ landed wealth, the departure of one assiduus for a colony left his land behind to be occupied by another assiduus who would be assessed on its value at the next census. Rosenstein (2004) 60–61; Toynbee (1965) 2.654–657.

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determine, but even if we assume that well over half of them were, their numbers will not have made much of an impact in an adult male population that ranged between 100,000 and 300,000 in this era. On the other hand, those who stayed behind may have been able to exploit newly acquired ager Romanus to increase the acreage they farmed, but how widespread this was we have no way of determining. A more likely basis for the general economic prosperity in the middle Republic was the extensive ownership of slaves by citizens and the extra productive capacity they brought to the farms they laboured on. Obviously, these slaves were to a very large extent war-captives, but it is doubtful that citizens usually acquired their slaves through a direct distribution of captives to Roman and allied soldiers, despite occasional references to this practice in the sources.21 Guarding, feeding and transporting a mass of newly enslaved captives would hardly have enhanced an army’s operational effectiveness. Rather, they would have been sold to the slave-dealers who regularly accompanied Roman armies and who would have brought them to the slave-markets at Rome and elsewhere.22 When a large number of them came all at once onto the auction-block at Rome or elsewhere, prices will have dropped significantly as supply approached or exceeded demand. An occasional glut on the market may thus have put the purchase of a slave within reach of a soldier returning from campaign with money to spend from his share of the plunder. How much cash legionaries made out of Rome’s wars is difficult to say, but I think we need to be cautious about assuming that the donatives that Livy records commanders handing out to their troops at their triumphs represent the only profit the latter derived from their service. Brunt tabulated those sums, which admittedly are generally modest, and argued that therefore recruits did not comply with the levy voluntarily but had to be subjected to compulsion.23 But the assumption that these donatives constituted the only money soldiers made strikes one as unwarranted.24 Whether we accept Polybius’ description of the orderly way in which Romans sacked cities (Plb. 10.15.4–16.9) or we agree with Ziółkowski that the process was much more chaotic, with every man for himself, it is clear in either case that soldiers anticipated a direct and immediate pay-off from their victory.25 That cash must be added to whatever donative soldiers received at the conclusion of the campaign. Then, too, there was the random plundering that troops regularly engaged in, as well as the possibility of private business dealings, like those Flamininus’ soldiers seem to have been engaged in when they were ambushed and killed on the road by Boeotians (Liv. 33.29.2–5).26 21 22 23 24 25 26

E. g. Caes. BGall. 6.3.2; 7.89.5. E. g. Cic. Att. 5.20 (SB 113).5; Caes. BGall. 2.33.6–7; cf. Liv. 10.17.4–7. See Huemoeller and García Morcillo in this volume. Brunt (1971) Table IX, cf. 391–415. See Gauthier in this volume. Harris (1979) 102. Ziółkowski (1993). In this regard, Roman warfare also constituted a low-cost system of redistributing wealth, where the less affluent components of the legion, the hastati and velites, would have gained the most from plunder. On the different risk-gain calculation of the various groups see Helm (2020).

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In one way or another, Roman armies were substantial generators of cash quite apart from their stipendium, which is why sutlers and camp followers regularly accompanied them on campaign. And while not all soldiers, like those who fought against Philip and Antiochus, returned rich (Liv. 42.32.6), most undoubtedly came back with money in their pockets.27 Furthermore, those sutlers and camp followers also brought home the profits they made selling food, services and other items to the soldiers, as well as reselling plunder – not to mention what the captives brought in when they were ultimately resold to those who would own them.28 All this money was just part of the profits that the business of war generated for the many people whose work supported Roman armies: the merchants who supplied weapons, clothing, equipment, pack animals, tents and the many other items that an army in the field required; the drovers, porters, sailors and ship owners who transported them; and of course the publicani who secured and managed the commissariat. When Polybius claimed that everyone at Rome was involved in public contracts (6.17.3), much of this activity undoubtedly involved the business side of war. We might think of tributum therefore as constituting a form of economic stimulus. The assidui who provided these ‘loans’ paid the costs of the wars that in turn put money in the purses of the soldiers, merchants and traders who profited from spoils from the armies’ victories. Those slave-owning assidui in the first, second and third census classes obviously needed consumers for the surpluses they produced, and the veterans and others who profited from Rome’s wars enlarged the market they required.29 At the same time, the armies themselves constituted an important source of demand for the goods and services they needed to fight those wars, further stimulating the Republican economy. One might imagine, too, that tributum provided a boost to the development of Roman banking. Coming up with a lump sum in the spring at the outset of the campaigning season cannot have been easy for many tribuni aerarii, who will have realized the profits from their farms only when they sold their crops after the harvest in the summer or fall. They may have needed loans from bankers and other wealthy men to tide them over until they could collect what their fellow-tribesmen owed them.30 On a more fundamental level, however, spoils contributed to elevating the level of the Republic’s economic activity by enlarging the money supply, and Quantity Theory enables us to understand how the process worked. Quantity Theory, which was introduced to ancient historians in Hopkins’ well-known ‘Taxes and Trade’ paper, is represented by the equation MV = PT, where M is the money supply, V is velocity, P the price level, and T the number of transactions.31 Because T is difficult to measure, economists often substitute Q, representing the total output of the economy, in which

27 28 29 30 31

Ziółkowski (1993) 69–91. E. g. Plb. 14.7.2–3, cf. Walbank (1967) 431; Sall. Iug. 64.5–6; Plut. Luc. 14.1; App. Mith. 78. On the extensive involvement of Roman farmers with the marketplace, see now Hollander (2019). On the development of Roman banking during the Republic: Kay (2014). Hopkins (1980) 101–125; cf. Hopkins (1995/6) 41–75.

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case V becomes income velocity, which must be understood as simply the frequency with which money is spent. Obviously, in a modern economy the variables M, V, P, and Q can be measured with some degree of accuracy, while for an ancient economy like the middle Republic’s, precision or even rough accuracy is beyond reach. What the equation can suggest, however, is the relationship between the elements the variables represent, so that as the money supply and spending increase, they have effect on prices and economic output. Thus, soldiers and others returning with money to spend from spoils represent increases in M and V, which are multiplied by one another, thereby increasing the effect of their product on the other side of the equation, prices and total economic output. The result will have been a significant increase in the latter (Q), since there is no evidence in this period for a significant rise in prices. Therefore, while Rome’s wars in the middle Republic generally did not pay for themselves – a simple calculation of their costs tallied against the spoils they returned to the treasury reveals that the former typically amounted to considerably more than the latter  – nevertheless those wars enriched the economy as a whole. In systemic terms tributum simply became stipendium for the soldiers and income to the various traders, merchants and manufacturers whose goods and services supported the armies’ campaigns. The increase in the frequency of buying and selling that tributum supported – as well as all the buying and selling that assidui had to engage in in order to generate the funds they needed to pay tributum – led necessarily to a rise in the velocity of money (V) over what it would have been, had the Republic not sent its armies out to war year after year. The spoils from the victories they won and deposited in the treasury represented a net addition to the money supply (M) that further supported the robust economic activity that formed the foundation of Roman military power. Thus, while the senators elected to go war for reasons other than to enrich the treasury, the Republic’s prosperity was none the less the result of those decisions. But spoils played an even more fundamental role in that prosperity. They supplied the principal motive for Roman assidui (as well as Italian socii) to go to war. Rome had no police force or other coercive mechanism to compel them to come forward when called upon to serve. Without the lure of wealth for its soldiers, it is doubtful whether the Republic could have fielded so many armies for so many years, armies which necessitated tributum and all the goods, services and associated economic activity that Roman warfare entailed. Viewed in this light, spoils were the essential starting point for the prosperity produced by Rome’s continuous, massive military mobilization. Nathan Rosenstein The Ohio State University [email protected]

Comparative Section

Homeric Society and the Bane of Raiding Stefan Frass The aim of this paper is to discuss the Homeric depiction of raiding, especially the process of the taking and distribution of spoils and the individual and social consequences. Furthermore, it will be assumed that these texts are more or less reflecting the political and social order of the early Archaic period. What can be learned from the Homeric descriptions of raiding and the taking of spoils is that the Archaic Greeks were keen to raid, and that as ‘status warriors’ they were actually required to raid and excel in the taking of spoils. Nevertheless, raiding is also depicted not only as a bane for the victims of the raids, but also more often than not for the raiders, for their families and for the communities, from which the raiders originated. This mind-set provides a conspicuous contrast to the situation in the early and middle Roman Republic, where the sources do not address the negative aspects of raiding. I The Homeric World But how do we have to imagine the so-called ‘Homeric Society’? We have four long poems, of which two – the ‘Iliad’ and the ‘Odyssey’ – are attributed to Homer and two – the ‘Theogony’ and the ‘Works and Days’ – are attributed to Hesiod. These four poems were in all likelihood written around 700 BCE, without us ever being able to determine their chronology more precisely.1 These works are of course neither history books nor political science studies. Nevertheless, the poems depict a society with a certain political, social, economic, and cultural order, which reflect – again in all likelihood – the social reality of the period in which they were written, that is early Archaic Greece, at least to a certain degree. The world of Odysseus had to be a world comprehensible to the audience of the early Archaic aoidoi. There may have been a long oral tradition in the Dark Ages, reaching back even to Mycenaean times.2 But oral transmission cannot

1 2

For the problematic localization of the world of Homer and Hesiod see e. g. Ulf (2009). See for this opinion e. g. Latacz (2004) 297–337.

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really transport genuine historical information over generations and the background world of the orally transmitted epic stories would have been adjusted to the changing historical circumstances.3 Only with the textualization of the poems around 700 BCE was the world of Odysseus and Agamemnon bound in the literary transmission and stopped to change according to contemporary developments.4 In short, we can imagine Homeric society in the following way: a basically egalitarian one, at least where the free, adult male members of a community are concerned. This does not imply that it is an acephalous society, because every Homeric community had a political institution – an assembly called agora – which could make binding decisions for all members of the community.5 Not all free adult men that were taking part in the assembly had the same influence on the decision-making process of the assembly.6 There is a Homeric elite, the so called basileis – or basilëes in the epic language –, who are basically the richest farmers of a community.7 Because of their wealth, they have social primacy. From this social primacy in turn derives political power (‘Macht’ in the sense of Max Weber), but not political rule (not ‘Herrschaft’, again in the sense of Max Weber).8 If there is any political institution that rules at all, it is rather the agora, even if this political institution is ruling only in exceptional situations and not continuously.9 Unsurprisingly, both the agora and the basileis as political actors are deeply concerned with the taking and the distribution of spoils – but also with the intended and unintended consequences, which can follow from both actions.

3 4 5

6 7 8

9

See e. g. Kullmann (1999); Patzek (2003). See e. g. Andreev (1988) 5–14; Raaflaub (1998a); Osborne (2004); Ulf (2009). See Elmer (2013) esp. 23–47, 108–125, for the decision-making process of the Homeric assembly, at least in the Iliad. He showed that if the assembled laos kept silence, then a proposal is rejected. On the other hand, the assembly could show its unqualified approval, signaled in the Iliad with the word ἐπαινεῖν. This verb, so Elmer (2013) 35, “therefore designates a definitively efficient response. So established is this rule that the epaineîn formula alone indicates, without any further qualification, that a proposal will be enacted”. Nevertheless, it is the place for political dissent – see Barker (2009) 52–66. In ethnological terms, they are rather ‘big men’ than ‘chiefs’, certainly not ‘lords’ or ‘kings’ – cf. e. g. Ulf (1990) 223–331. For the terms ‘Macht’ and ‘Herrschaft’ see the definition by Weber (1980) chap.1.1 § 16: “Macht bedeutet jede Chance, innerhalb einer sozialen Beziehung den eigenen Willen auch gegen Wider­ streben durchzusetzen, gleichviel worauf diese Chance beruht” and “Herrschaft soll heißen die Chance, für einen Befehl bestimmten Inhalts bei angebbaren Personen Gehorsam zu finden”. I have given my assessment of these problems in more detail elsewhere: Fraß (2018) 70–105.

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II Status Warriors With regard to the taking and the distribution of spoils in the Homeric society, we have first to emphasize that the Homeric basileis were ‘status warriors’.10 They utilized violence to gain power and wealth. They use their wealth to maintain followers and gift-exchange to engage in inter-polis hospitalities with other elite actors. At least some Homeric basileis also used their share of the spoils for redistribution among the nonelite members of their communities. They did this to gain social capital, which could later be translated into even more political power. Maybe the redistribution of spoils even “perpetuates the long-term social and cosmic order”, as Jonathan Ready put it in his study on the acquisition of spoils in the Iliad.11 This might be so, but the narrative of the Iliad and of the Odyssey also tells another story. Even a superficially successful enterprise, like that against Troy, could in the end turn out to have been rather unprofitable for the raiders. After all, the comrades of Odysseus complain that despite all their toil, they “go home with empty hands”12 and since there is no honour among thieves, they try to ‘raid’ Odysseus’ treasure, stored on their ship.13 This also implies that Odysseus should have used his portion of the spoils in a different way.14 Furthermore, the whole conflict that forms the background for the Iliad  – the Trojan War – was started by Paris taking Helen and other ‘treasure’ from the oikos of Menelaos. The whole community of the Trojans will eventually pay the price for the transgression of this individual and so Hector reviles Paris with justification: “but to thy father and city and all the people a grievous bane – to thy foes a joy”.15 Likewise the conflict that is basically the storyline of the Iliad – “the wrath […] of Peleus’ son, Achilles”16 – is about the distribution of spoils. To be again precise, it is about the redistribution of spoils, in a form that breaks an established order. At the beginning of the Iliad, Agamemnon is forced by the assembled laos  – and Apollo  – to give up a woman he has received earlier from the laos as his fair share from the spoils of previous raids near Troy. In a second assembly he has to agree to ransom her back to her father

10 11

See for this the constitutive study by Van Wees (1992) esp. 61–108, 218–248. See Ready (2007), esp. 17–25, here p. 23. The whole story about the bounding of the suitors of Hellen by an oath, which forces many of the prominent basileis on the Achaean site to fight in the Trojan war, even against their will, does not play any significant role in the unfolding of the story of the Iliad or the Odyssey. 12 Hom. Od. 10.42: οἴκαδε νισσόμεθα κενεὰς σὺν χεῖρας ἔχοντες. The given English translations of the Iliad and the Odyssey in this paper are, unless otherwise noted, by A. T. Murray: Homer. The Iliad with an English Translation by A. T. Murray in two volumes (London 1924); Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by A. T. Murray in two volumes (London 1919). 13 Cf. Hom. Od. 10.34–45. 14 Cf. Donlan (1998), esp. 63–64, for the “chronic perception” of Odysseus’ hetairoi that they do not get their fair share of the spoils. 15 Hom. Il. 3.50–51.: πατρί τε σῷ μέγα πῆμα πόληΐ τε παντί τε δήμῳ, δυσμενέσιν μὲν χάρμα […]. 16 Hom. Il. 1.1: μῆνιν […] Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος.

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but insists on getting something from the spoils of the other Achaeans as compensation.17 At this point during the assembly’s proceedings, Achilles interjects and reminds ­Aga­memnon that this is not how it’s done: Most glorious son of Atreus, most covetous of all, how shall the great-hearted Achaeans give you a prize? We know nothing of a hoard of wealth in common store, but whatever we took by pillage from the cities has been apportioned, and it is not seemly to gather these things back from the army.18

But Agamemnon is unreasonable; perhaps because Achilles is the one who dares object to Agamemnon’s proposal, he is the one from whom Agamemnon is set on getting his compensation. The son of Atreus ignores the fact that this breaks the established order of the distribution of spoils but since the assembly does not object to this, Achilles has no choice but to comply with this decision. However, he then leaves the community of the Achaeans and takes his followers with him. Therefore, the Achaeans lose their most effective warriors, leading to renewed attacks of the Trojans and the deaths of many members of the laos. As we have seen, in case of the Trojans the taking of spoils became a bane for the individuals and the community involved in the taking, because the damaged party sought retribution against them. In case of the Achaeans the redistribution of spoils became a bane for the individuals and the community involved, because it led to a dispute over the distribution and then basically to the breakup of the community of the Achaeans. However, all these negative consequences of the taking of spoils arose only because of the exceptional circumstances of the Trojan War. Therefore, we should look at the other examples in the Homeric poems. III Raiding and Retribution To do this, we can first ask what kinds of spoils are normally depicted in the Homeric poems. There are of course allusions to non-movable spoils, namely to land and even whole poleis. At least Agamemnon offers Achilles later on in the Iliad, amongst other things, “seven well-peopled cities”19 as reparation for his irregular redistribution of spoils at the beginning of the poem. But normally it seems that enemy settlements are

17 For the importance of the Homeric agorai cf. e. g. Hölkeskamp (1997). 18 Hom. Il. 1.122–126: Ἀτρεΐδη κύδιστε φιλοκτεανώτατε πάντων, / πῶς γάρ τοι δώσουσι γέρας μεγά­ θυμοι Ἀχαιοί; / οὐδέ τί που ἴδμεν ξυνήϊα κείμενα πολλά: / ἀλλὰ τὰ μὲν πολίων ἐξεπράθομεν, τὰ δέδασται, / λαοὺς δ᾽ οὐκ ἐπέοικε παλίλλογα ταῦτ᾽ ἐπαγείρειν. 19 Hom. Il. 9.291: ἑπτὰ δέ τοι δώσει εὖ ναιόμενα πτολίεθρα. It should be noted that these settlements were part of Agamemnon’s ‘territory’ and were bordering Pylos. This means a transfer of territory from one community to its neighbouring community took place.

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sacked and laid waste, instead of occupied.20 Based on this, Raaflaub developed the idea that the Iliad depicts the conflict “between two cities at opposite ends of a large plain”, fighting for control over the fertile land. In this way, the conflict is similar to the so-called Lelantine War between Chalcis and Eretria. Both poleis were allegedly fighting for control over the fertile Lelantine Plain on the island of Euboea in the early Archaic period.21 Nevertheless, the Trojan War is mainly depicted in the Iliad as a conflict – as Raaflaub also points out – “that resulted from and is combined with raids for spoils and a war that is motivated largely by considerations of status, revenge, and personal obligation”.22 A clearer example of this kind of reciprocal raiding-warfare of two neighbouring communities, which share a land border, is found in a story given by Nestor in the ­Iliad.23 He is reminiscing about his youth, when he was still able to participate actively in the fighting. His story goes as follows: The community of Pylos was weakened by the fact that Heracles had killed Nestor’s twelve brothers. Their neighbours, the Epeians under the leadership of their basileus Augeias, took advantage of this circumstance and raided their pastures. In response, young Nestor led a raiding party into the territory of the Epeians and took a great number of livestock as spoils. The raiding party probably also took the herdsmen as slaves; at least Neleus, the father of Nestor, took them for himself, when the spoils of the raid were distributed.24 Nestor makes it clear in his story that the spoils were taken as a compensation for the things taken by the Epeians in the past.25 Therefore, the spoils were not distributed among the raiders but among all the Pylians, who had lost something in the raids of the Epeians. The distribution was also not decided in an agora but by the Πυλίων ἡγήτορες ἄνδρες26 – the leading men of Pylos – meaning the members of the local elite. After the most eminent basileus had taken his share, they distributed the spoils with the blessing of Neleus in equal shares among the victims of the Epeian raids. However, the story does not end at this point, because the conflict then escalated, since the Epeians in response raided Pylian territory again. Yet the Epeians were not satisfied any longer with the raiding of the shepherds. They now tried to raid a minor but apparently fortified settlement on the frontier of Pylian territory. As a response, the laos of Pylos, all the men of the community, gathered to strike back against the invading force.

20

This is for example what Achilles did with twenty-three settlements located within the fertile territory of Troy (Τροίην ἐρίβωλο) – see Hom. Il. 9.328–329. 21 See Parker (1997), who makes the argument that the Lelantine War was the first historical event in Greek history that can be dated with some certainty to the phase from 710 to 650 BCE (see esp. p. 59–93). The difficulty of such a conjecture is persuasively shown by Hall (2007) 4–8. 22 Cf. Raaflaub (1998b) esp. 394–398, here p. 398. 23 Cf. Hom. Il. 11.670–760. 24 Cf. Hom. Il. 11.696–697. 25 Hom. Il. 11.674: ῥύσι᾽ ἐλαυνόμενος. 26 Hom. Il. 11.688.

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The conflict, at least at this point in the story, now concerned the whole community. The people of Pylos won the day, but they could not achieve a decisive victory, because they only pursued the enemy raiding party to the border of the Epeian territory. The only spoils the Pylians took in this clash with the Epeians were the armour and the weapons of the slain and fugitive enemies. There is no hint in the story about the annexation of territory from the defeated neighbouring community. Also, it seems that raiding was usually done by ship, which is not surprising considering Greek geography. It is also typically not done against the nearest neighbours, probably out of fear of reprisals, as could be seen in the story told by Nestor. Overall, the whole reciprocal raiding-warfare seems to have been rather unprofitable for all involved, at least from an economic perspective.27 Since the taking of land did not play any role, the following argument will concentrate on the taking and distribution of movable spoils. Such spoils were mainly people and livestock, weapons and armour, metal, and precious metal objects. The Homeric warriors who went on raids to take such spoils rarely seemed to be acting on behalf of the community from which they hailed, as a whole. They normally conveyed the impression of ‘private’ individuals.28 But this is not always clear, since in order to raid, the raiders required ships. These ships seem, sometimes at least, to have been the property of the community.29 Furthermore, kinship in any form whatsoever – in stark contrast to the situation in Archaic Rome – did not play a role in the formation of these raiding parties. Even Agamemnon did not help his brother Menelaos because of his family ties with him. He, like all the other elite and non-elite warriors on the Achaean site, fought in the Trojan War to take spoils for the enrichment of their own individual oikoi.30 At any rate, the ‘private’ character of raiding and the taking of spoils certainly ended for the people who were subjected to a raid. The defence against raiders, against a po-

27

28

29

30

There was also no indirect economic gain by this kind of warfare; contrary to the consequences of Roman warfare during the middle Republic, described by Rosenstein in this volume, even if the wars could not be financed by the profits from the spoils directly. Maybe the stories of Archaic Greek cattle-raiding can be explained in a more ritualistic way; see Walcot (1979). Raiding for movable spoils seems to have occurred in comparable conditions as in fifth century Rome. The main difference is that in early Rome the raiding was dominated not by single actors, but by clans, which could provide manpower and resources beyond the settlement community – see for this Armstrong’s paper in this volume. Telemachos for example asks the assembled dēmos in the agorá, the institutionalized Homeric assembly, for a ship and twenty comrades, to search for his lost father (Hom. Od. 2.210–219). This action only makes sense, if the community can provide a ship. In the end the assembly denies the request of Telemachos and one of his mother’s suitors suggests that two old friends of Odysseus, which spoke in favour of Telemachos’ request to the community, should provide a ship privately instead (Hom. Od. 2.252–254.) The so-called ‘Oath of Tyndareus’, the oath that all suitors had to swear to the father of Helen, binding them to defend the chosen husband of Helen, is not directly mentioned in the Iliad or the Odyssey. The tradition of this oath seems rather to be a later invention; see Sommerstein & Torrance (2014) 48–59.

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tentially hostile world outside of the polis-community, was indeed the responsibility of the Homeric community as a whole.31 There was no one in the Troy of the Iliad who could stay out of the ‘war’. Yet there is also no indication in the Odyssey that anyone in Ithaca or Sparta thought that their poleis were ‘officially’ at war with Troy at any point in the past. The communities’ responsibility to collectively defend against raiders is best shown in the second book of the Odyssey. Here Telemachos is convening an assembly and Aegyptios, an older representative from the local elite, asks why this was done. But he immediately also asks whether someone has to report an enemy force approaching – which in context of the Homeric poems can only mean a seaborne raiding-party – “or anything else of interest to the demos”.32 This episode also shows the constant fear of raiding, because it is the first thing that comes to Aegyptios’ mind. If a calamity happened to a member of the community – like an attack by raiders – the only ones he could count on to help are the members of his settlement community. Especially his neighbours, at least according to Hesiod, were the first to come to his aid.33 III Individual and Community The ‘private’ character of raiding and the taking of spoils also ended, if these acts had ramifications for the home community of the raiders. A case in point is the story of Paris, when he takes Helen and the treasure from the oikos of Menelaos. The ‘private’ individuals who led the raids were normally basileis and were followed by other members of the elite or non-elite members of a specific community. That raiding parties from different communities united to go on raids seems rather unusual; hence the ­Homeric poet could imagine such a combination of raiding parties only in the terms of a single community, as is shown by the community of the Achaeans before Troy. However, a single basileus from one community could participate in the raids of a group from a different community, as is seen in the episode about Eupheites, the father of one of Penelope’s suitors. He joined the Taphians on a raid against the Thesprotians, a community located probably in the coastal region of Epirus. Penelope uses this story to rebuke Antinoos for his behaviour in the oikos of her lost husband: Or could you not know of the time that your own father came here as a fugitive, in terror of his people? They were very angry because he had followed the Taphian pirates and attacked the Thresprotians with whom we were allied. They wanted to kill him, to take away

31

See Hölkeskamp (1997) 5–7. We find similar ideas also expressed by other Archaic poets, see e. g. Alk. fr. 426 (West) and Tyrt. fr. 10 (West). 32 Hom. Od. 2.34: ἦέ τι δήμιον ἄλλο. 33 Cf. Hes. Erg. 344–345. See Schmitz (2004) 78–82, for neighbourly solidarity in Hesiod’s depiction of the village community.

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his life and to devour his great and pleasant livelihood. But Odysseus held them back and stayed them, although they were eager.34

From this short episode, we can gain an understanding of the process of raiding in Homeric society. First, we learn, as already mentioned, that a single elite actor could go on raids with a raiding party from another community. But he could not participate in a raid against a community with which his home community had some kind of understanding of friendship or alliance. The violation of this friendship or alliance by a single deviant actor from a community was sanctioned by the community as a whole; the demos would act collectively and, if necessary, with force. The demos could impose capital punishment against the deviant, in this case by figuratively devouring Eupheites’ oikos. This indicates that they literally ate what could be eaten from his oikos, thus Antinoos’ inheritance would have been destroyed, had Odysseus not intervened. The moral of Penelope’s story is of course to convince Antinoos to stop devouring the inheritance of Telemachos. Yet we also observe that raiding against neighbouring communities was restricted in some way and that early Archaic Greek communities did not exist in a kind of ‘war of all against all’. There was some type of order; breaking that order was punished by the communities. Of course, Odysseus intervenes in the Homeric story and prevents the required punishment of the deviant. But he was only able to do this because he himself is the most deviant of all deviants and can break the social order of the Homeric society again and again without getting punished in the end. He seems to be alone in this among all the deviant and anti-social Homeric heroes, who in contrast get what is coming to them.35 IV Odysseus the Raider Admittedly, the Taphians mentioned by Antinoos were somewhat notorious for their seagoing raids in the Odyssey.36 At least they seemed not to be bound by the same restrictions as the demos of Ithaca. But still the Taphians’ conduct in the Homeric world may be seen as a reflection of quite normal behaviour in early Archaic Greece: If either the community as a whole or individual actors from a community have the resources to fit out ships – both are possibilities in the Homeric texts – they use them to raid other communities. They kill some men, rape some women, and take all the 34 Hom. Od. 16.424–430: ἦ οὐκ οἶσθ᾽ ὅτε δεῦρο πατὴρ τεὸς ἵκετο φεύγων, / δῆμον ὑποδείσας; δὴ γὰρ κεχολώατο λίην, / οὕνεκα ληϊστῆρσιν ἐπισπόμενος Ταφίοισιν / ἤκαχε Θεσπρωτούς: οἱ δ᾽ ἡμῖν ἄρθ­ μιοι ἦσαν: / τόν ῥ᾽ ἔθελον φθῖσαι καὶ ἀπορραῖσαι φίλον ἦτορ / ἠδὲ κατὰ ζωὴν φαγέειν μενοεικέα πολ­ λήν: / ἀλλ᾽ Ὀδυσεὺς κατέρυκε καὶ ἔσχεθεν ἱεμένους περ. Translated by B. Powell: Homer. The Odyssey with an English Translation by B. B. Powell (Oxford 2014). 35 See Fraß (2018) 92–95. 36 Hom. Od. 1.105; 14.452; 16.426–427.

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movable goods (including people) that fit on their ships as spoils. They then become traders and use these spoils as their trading goods.37 Again the Taphians are a good example of this process; at least, we can recognize this process in a story told in the Odyssey by Eumaios.38 Though himself a slave of Odysseus, he was originally kidnapped by Phoenician traders from his father’s oikos, who was a basileus on the isle of Syra. Now the Phoenicians – being Phoenicians and not Greeks – achieved this by guile, helped by a female Phoenician slave belonging to Eumaios’ father. But the Phoenician slave woman herself had also once been taken and sold into slavery during a raid by the Taphians near Sidon, when she “was coming from the fields”, as she puts it in her story within the story.39 This is an interesting point for two reasons. First, we can see the geographic scope of Greek raiding from the Ionic Sea to the eastern Mediterranean coastline. Second, the Homeric poet would never claim that Greek raiders could attack a city like Sidon directly, but they were able to raid near Sidon. And why would they not, after all, it was a region that offered rich pickings. So, the Taphians, laden with spoils stopped on the isle of Syra, probably modern Syros in the Cyclades, on their way home to the Ionic isles, where they traded anything they did not need themselves, before moving on. But raiding a region that offered rich pickings also entailed dangers. This can be seen in the untruthful narrative given by the yet unrecognized Odysseus to his slave Eumaios. This tale can also be seen as the story of an archetypical raider’s career.40 Odysseus presents himself as the illegitimate son of a Cretan basileus, who lost out when his brother divided up their father’s inheritance. Yet he was a good warrior and managed to marry well. With the wealth from his wife, he could fit out ships for nine raiding-adventures, all of them apparently successful, because he says: I had nine times led warriors and swift-faring ships against foreign folk, and great spoil had ever fallen to my hands. Of this I would choose what pleased my mind, and much I afterwards obtained by lot. Thus, my house straightway grew rich, and thereafter I became one feared and honoured among the Cretans.41

It was – in Odysseus’ own narrative – therefore no surprise that he and another ­basileus were chosen to lead the baneful raid against Troy. But why is Odysseus’ alter ego raiding in the first place? Odysseus gives a simple enough explanation when he tells Eumaios:

37 See for this phenomenon Luraghi (2006). 38 For the following episode see Hom. Od. 15.415–484. 39 Hom. Od. 14.429: ἀγρόθεν ἐρχομένην. 40 Cf. Hom. Od. 14.191–359. See for the ‘Cretan lies’ topic Haft (1984); Emlyn-Jones (1986). 41 Hom. Od. 14.231–235: εἰνάκις ἀνδράσιν ἦρξα καὶ ὠκυπόροισι νέεσσιν / ἄνδρας ἐς ἀλλοδαπούς, καί μοι μάλα τύγχανε πολλά. / τῶν ἐξαιρεύμην μενοεικέα, πολλὰ δ᾽ ὀπίσσω / λάγχανον: αἶψα δὲ οἶκος ὀφέλλετο, καί ῥα ἔπειτα / δεινός τ᾽ αἰδοῖός τε μετὰ Κρήτεσσι τετύγμην.

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Such a man was I in war, labour in the field was never to my liking, nor the care of a household, which rears goodly children, but oared ships were ever dear to me, and wars, and polished spears, and arrows, – grievous things, whereat others are wont to shudder. But those things, I ween, were dear to me, which a god put in my heart; for different men take joy in different works.42

Raiding appears as a kind of lifestyle in this statement. Anyway, Odysseus’ character got away with his life and rich spoils from the Trojan adventure and returned home to his wife and his children. But after only a month at home, he could not endure domestic life any longer and went off to raid again, now to Egypt. He fitted out nine ships, which is a number that of course works well with the nine successful raids he has carried out before Troy. But nine ships constitute a good figure for a realistically, if fairly large raiding party in early Archaic Greece. Sadly, there are no other sources for the sizes of early Archaic raiding-parties and nine ships is just a number that feels plausible. If all the nine ships were of the large kind with fifty rowers, the party would consist of up to 500 raiders.43 That is certainly a rather high number, but not for a raid against Egypt, which, like the Levant, constituted a rich target in the mind of the Homeric poet. Like the Levant, Greeks could not raid the larger settlements, because of the existence of a centralized power that could organize a large-scale defence on short notice. In the narrative Odysseus’ character was leading his ships up the river Nile and landed them away from the settlements. He then urged his comrades to guard the ships while he sent out scouting parties. But his men did not listen and immediately started raiding the countryside by attacking the peasants in their fields, killing the men, and taking off with the women and children. The inhabitants of the nearby settlement were alerted and swiftly reacted in force against the foreign raiders. They either killed the members of the raiding party or took them prisoners to enslave them. Only Odysseus’ character was saved from this fate by the pity and generosity of an Egyptian basileus. He then decided to become a sea trader and partnered up with a Phoenician, which turned out a bad decision. The Phoenician tried to trick him and sell him as a slave during their sea journey together. But before this could happen, they shipwrecked, and Odysseus’ Cretan character ended up in the land of the Thesprotians. The local basileus, again against all the odds, did not enslave the shipwrecked Cretan, but sent him on his way with a ship bound for the Ionic Sea to trade. Again, he was dependent on the pity and generosity of a stranger. But the ship’s crew was 42 Hom. Od. 14.222–228: τοῖος ἔα ἐν πολέμῳ: ἔργον δέ μοι οὐ φίλον ἔσκεν / οὐδ᾽ οἰκωφελίη, ἥ τε τρέφει ἀγλαὰ τέκνα, ἀλλά μοι αἰεὶ νῆες ἐπήρετμοι φίλαι ἦσαν / καὶ πόλεμοι καὶ ἄκοντες ἐΰξεστοι καὶ ὀϊστοί, / λυγρά, τά τ᾽ ἄλλοισίν γε καταριγηλὰ πέλονται. / αὐτὰρ ἐμοὶ τὰ φίλ᾽ ἔσκε τά που θεὸς ἐν φρεσὶ θῆκεν: / ἄλλος γάρ τ᾽ ἄλλοισιν ἀνὴρ ἐπιτέρπεται ἔργοις. 43 See Mark (2005) 97–137, for the Homeric ships. According to Mark (2005) 134, “at least three different types of ships, those with twenty oars, fifty oars, and broad merchant ships with twenty rowers” can be distinguished in the Homeric texts.

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not bound by the decision of the basileus, who after all was only the richest farmer among the Thesprotians and not a king, a lord, or some other kind of ruler. Therefore, the sailors immediately after setting sail became raiders and enslaved Odysseus’ character to sell him when reaching their destination. Lucky for him, the sailors beached their ships on Ithaca to spend the night, where Odysseus’ character could flee. But he lost everything and was now, sitting at Eumaios’ table, just a beggar, reliant on the ­generosity of a slave.44 V Conclusion The life of Odysseus’ Cretan character pretty much reflects Odysseus’ own raiding career. He got all the members of his raiding party killed and he lost all the spoils from his raiding exploits. He even squandered the ships. Thus, he too was dependent on the kindness of strangers, namely the naïve basileus of the Phaeacians, who gave Odysseus many presents and a ship to get home, even if Odysseus would never be able to reciprocate. But then again, the Phaeacians lived on Scheria, a fairyland whose people never went on raids or were victims of foreign raiders. Back on Ithaca, Odysseus then killed all the suitors of his wife, most of them from the elite of Ithaca, bringing even more harm to his community. But his most grievous offense against the common interest of the polis is not the killing of the suitors. It is his failure as a leader, especially in the leading of the raiding party against Troy, by getting all the members of his party killed and the ships of the community lost.45 Thus, the raiding for and distribution of spoils brings, for all involved, only discord, destruction, and death. Even if raids are successful in the short term, sooner or later it will end badly for everyone. In stark contrast to the developments in early Roman society, at least in the Homeric poems there seem to be no individuals who can increase their economic resources long-term through taking spoils. There are also no individuals or families who can increase their social standing long-term through raiding or even establish a political pre-eminence by being successful leaders of raiding parties.46 There is also no indication that a more community-focused approach to the benefits of raiding is developing in the Homeric society.47 Especially the acquisition of land, although it is to some degree implied in the Homeric texts, does not seem to have any 44 Although a slave who is the son of a Greek basileus and also the victim of Phoenician treachery – see Minchin (1992) and King (1999) for the poetic construction of Eumaios’ ‘origin story’ and Odysseus’ ‘beggar tale’. 45 This is clearly seen in the argumentation of Eupeites, the father of one of the killed suitors, when he is trying to mobilize the demos to joint violence against Odysseus (cf. Hom. Od. 24.426–429). 46 For early Roman society see e. g. Hölkeskamp (1993/2004b); Rawlings (1999); Linke (2016). 47 This is developing in early Rome at the beginning of the fourth century BCE – see Armstrong’s paper in this volume.

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real social significance – again in stark contrast to the situation in the early and middle Roman Republic. In the narrative depicted in the Homeric poems, raiding, and the distribution of spoils nearly always seem to be a bane and nothing but a bane, for all involved. Stefan Fraß Ruhr-Universität Bochum [email protected]

The Macedonian Approach to Spoils Michael Kleu

I Introduction To what extent does it make sense to compare the Roman Republican approach to spoils with that of the Macedonian kingdom? A comparison between Rome and Mace­ donia is particularly interesting because of the main differences between the two states. On the one hand, we have a republic led by an aristocratic collective; on the other hand, a monarchy ruled by a powerful king. As Millett has stated, the different types of governmental organization led to different ways of distributing spoils in Macedonia and Rome.1 But despite the different political systems, there remain quite a few parallels. Although one cannot equate the remarkable rise of Macedonia with that of Rome in Italy,2 the kingdom of Philip II (359–336 BCE) and the Early Roman Republic (ca. 509–264 BCE) nevertheless both experienced a vast expansion of their territories and spheres of influence in the fourth century BCE.3 In order to attain their respective positions, both states had to fight numerous wars and thereby gained spoils in various forms. Therefore, the reign of Philip II can indeed be fruitfully compared with the early Roman Republic, while the Macedonian kingdoms of the Hellenistic age (336–30 BCE) are better compared with the Roman Republic’s history from the First Punic War until the end of the Republic (264–30/27 BCE). Consequently, this paper aims to emphasize – in combination with the other articles of the present volume – the differences as well as possible similarities between the Roman Republican and the Macedonian approach to spoils.

1 2 3

Millett (2010) 489, 496. Millett (2010) 489. For a general overview of Macedonian history in the years discussed in the present paper see Hammond & Griffith (1979); Buraselis (1982); Errington (1986); Hammond & Walbank (1988); Müller (2016).

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Due to the scarce evidence for the Macedonian approach to spoils4 in the early history of the kingdom, our survey starts with the reign of Philip II. The source material for this time period is so rich and broad that the reign of Alexander, the time of the Diadochoi (323–281 BCE) and Antigonid Macedonia will be discussed only by means of selected examples.5 Therefore, some central aspects of the reign of Alexander the Great will be summarized, while one example from the time of the Diadochoi, which is particularly interesting, will be presented. Furthermore, a few incidents and one remarkable inscription from the reign of Philip V (221–179 BCE) will be discussed. II The Reign of Philip II (359–336 BCE) Following the death of his brother Perdikkas in 360 BCE, Philip ruled Macedonia as warden of his nephew Amyntas. After having started to reorganize and secure the kingdom, Philip set up an army.6 With his new forces he subdued the Paeones and won a battle against the Illyrian king Bardylis whereby he enlarged his kingdom as far as Lake Lychnidis.7 Based on numismatic evidence and the examples we will examine later, it is safe to suppose that the Macedonians gained various types of spoils in the battles against the Paeones and Illyrians.8 The first time that spoils are explicitly mentioned during the reign of Philip II is related to the conquest of Chalcidice. After the sack of Poteidaia in 356 BCE, the king sold its citizens into slavery. The city itself and its chora he gave to the Olynthians in

4 5

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In what follows the term spoils is understood as externaly acquired resources which can be either movable or immovable. Except for a few important examples regarding immovable spoils, my paper will focus on moveable spoils. Most of the evidence presented here has originally been collected by Millett (2010) in a slightly different context. For more general views on spoils as an economic factor in Hellenistic times see Austin (1986); Chaniotis (2005) 65, 129–137; Roth (2007) 371–372; Serrati (2007) 476–477. Regarding Macedonia see Loreto (1990); Juhel (2002) 410–411; Sekunda (2010) 465. For a comprehensive study of spoils in the Greek world see Pritchett (1971) 53–100. Philip came to an agreement with Athens and avoided problems with the Thracians and Paeones by paying them money. Furthermore, he bought the support and the trust of the Macedonians by offering presents and making promises, Diod. Sic. 16.2.4–16.4.1. Therefore, it seems realistic that Philip experienced, besides his political and military problems, some financial pressure. Diod. Sic. 16.1.5; 16.4.2–7; 16.8.1. For example, although it is not explicitly mentioned in our literary sources, we know from coins that on this occasion Philip gained possession of Damastium and its silver mines in 358 BCE, see Hammond (1979) 654, 661–669. For the silver mines close to Damastium see Strab. 7.7.8. For other gold and silver ores in Paeonia and other areas gained by Philip see Hammond (1979) 666. As Hammond (1979) 660–661, assumes, he may have sent additional settlers to Damastium. At least he did so when Krenides/Philippoi and its mines came into his possession, as we will see soon. If Hammond is right, Philip distributed spoils in form of conquered land to people from his kingdom.

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order to win them over.9 Thus, he turned his spoils into cash money. Directly afterwards, Philip marched to Krenides. He enlarged the town by sending new settlers and renamed it Philippoi. Due to the improvement of the nearby gold mines, the king, according to the sources, received henceforth more than 1,000 talents per year. D ­ iodorus reports that Philip used this money to finance an army of mercenaries and to corrupt many Greeks to betray their hometowns. In this way he placed his kingdom in an excellent position.10 In 355/54 BCE Philip captured Methone and allowed each citizen to leave the city with one single garment. After having destroyed the city, he divided its territory among his Macedonians.11 Diodorus does not say what exactly happened to the movable items the citizens had to leave in Methone, but we can guess that they were sold as plunder. As Griffith suggests, we should not take the destruction of Methone too literally. Since Philip gave the city to his Macedonians, it would have been quite strange if he had destroyed all useful buildings.12 The king probably just tore down the walls or the like.13 In 348 BCE the king won over Olynthus by betrayal. After having enslaved the inhabitants and having plundered the city, Philip sold everything – including the inhabitants – and thus gained a great amount of money for the further continuation of the war. To those of his soldiers who had demonstrated courage in the fight, the king gave valuable presents, while he used enormous sums of money to corrupt the leading men of several Greek poleis.14 In ca. 345 BCE Philip invaded Illyria, laid waste to the area, conquered many smaller towns, and came back to Macedonia with rich spoils.15 From 342 to 340 BCE, Philip made war on the Thracians and forced them to regularly pay tribute. Furthermore, 9 10 11 12 13

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Diod. Sic. 16.8.4–5. Diod. Sic. 16.8.6–7. During the expansion of the Macedonian kingdom, Philip gained control over several other mines. When, for example, he captured Amphipolis in 357 BCE, he acquired control over the local deposits of gold and silver. Diod. Sic. 16.8.2; see Hammond (1979) 666. Diod. Sic. 16.34.5. Griffith (1979) 362. The same is probably true for some other cities Philip reportedly destroyed. At least regarding the destruction of the 32 cities in or close to Thrace (see below), recent archaeological finds suggest that Demosthenes’ account (Dem. 9.26) must be exaggerated, see Zahrnt (1971) 112–115; Psoma (2011) 134 n. 123; Tsigarida (2011) 153–154. The same seems to apply to some cases in which Polybius mentions the destruction of cities, Holleaux (1921) 291 n. 1; Errington (1989) 92–93. For the reconstruction of destroyed cities in Hellenistic times see Michels (2014). Diod. Sic. 16.53.3. As in the case of the destroyed cities, the enslavement of the inhabitants of Olynthus is exaggerated. The source material suggests that by no means all inhabitants can have been enslaved, see Zahrnt (1971) 115–117. For the occasional exaggeration of the number of prisoners in Hellenistic warfare in general see Chaniotis (2005) 132–133. We know also of several occasions on which Alexander gave presents to particularly brave soldiers: Arr. Anab. 2.12; Diod. Sic 17.40.1, 17.46.6, 17.89.3. Diod. Sic. 16.69.7. Diodorus dates the war against the Illyrians to the year 344/343 BCE, which seems to be a mistake, Griffith (1979) 470. In most cases it was the Illyrians who plundered Macedonia and not the other way around: Greenwalt (2010); Millett (2010) 490.

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the king founded several sizeable cities in Thrace in order to prevent further Thracian attacks in this area.16 According to Demosthenes, Philip also destroyed 32 cities in or close to Thrace. Although Demosthenes does not explicitly mention it, we can safely assume that the king plundered these cities, as well as Methone, Olynthus and Apollonia, which Demosthenes names in the same context.17 In a war in 339 BCE against the Scythian king Atheas, the Macedonian king won, according to Justin, neither gold nor silver, but 20,000 boys and women and a large quantity of livestock. Furthermore, 20,000 mares were sent to Macedonia in order to breed thoroughbreds.18 However, Philip could not enjoy these spoils, because the Tri­ balli asked for their share of the spoils for letting the Macedonians pass through their territory. When the king refused, he lost everything in battle.19 While the cases mentioned above are all related to warfare on land, there is also some evidence for the seaborne acquisition of spoils. Demosthenes speaks in this context of Philip’s principal source of revenue, discussing how the Macedonian king used to raid the seaborne commerce of the Athenian allies. Furthermore, Philip assaulted Lemnos and Imbros and won an enormous amount of money when he attacked the shipping at Geraistos at the south coast of Euboia. Finally, the king stole the Athenians’ sacred trireme after he had managed to land at Marathon.20 Worse was to come from the Athenian point of view, since Philip managed to intercept the Athenian grain fleet in 340 BCE. According to the sources, the king captured 230 transport ships from which he released 50. By selling the cargo – and probably the seamen as well – Philip earned 700 talents, which helped to solve the financial problems that plagued him during the siege of Byzantium. Furthermore, he used the timber of the ships as material for his siege train.21 What can be noted as an interim summary for Philip’s reign? It is not very surprising that attacking poleis, territories or transport fleets enabled the Macedonians to gain portable spoils in the form of slaves, livestock, goods of every description, and ­money.22 By gaining long-lasting control over cities and territories, the king received additional regular revenues, as we have seen in the case of Krenides. These regular revenues might be regarded as a form of institutionalized spoils. Regarding Philip’s war 16 Diod. Sic. 16.71.1–2. Griffith (1979) 554–566. 17 Dem. 9.26. See Millett (2010) 490; n. 13 of this article. 18 Just. Epit. 9.2.15–16. 19 Just. Epit. 9.3.1–3. 20 Dem. 4.34. Several Macedonian kings used the service of pirates, which was not at all unusual in Hellenistic times, since the same is true for the Ptolemies, the Romans, the Achaeans and Nabis of Sparta. It is not always easy to draw the line between conventional warfare and piracy, particularly as it was common to discredit one’s enemies as pirates. See Chaniotis (2005) 134–135; Kleu (2015) 92 n. 469. 21 Theopomp. FGrH 115 F 292; Philoch. FGrH 328 F 162; Just. Epit. 9.1.5–6. See Dem. 18.73 and 18.139. 22 If Justin is to be believed, even unimportant Greek poleis offered Philip a lot of plunder: Just. Epit. 9.1.1.

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against the Scythians, we also saw that it was sometimes difficult to bring the portable spoils back when an army was fighting far away from home and had no possibility to sell the spoils. Let us now explore how Philip employed these spoils. First of all, the evidence leaves no doubt that the king used a fair amount for financing his army and his wars. For example, Philip used the revenue from the gold mines close to Krenides to pay for an army of mercenaries. Besides, the king had to finance a siege train and a fleet, both of which were quite expensive. In this regard, Justin gets to the heart of the issue when he says that Philip used to cover the costs of one war by starting another.23 In addition to regular pay and food, there were also extra payments for the soldiers. After the capture of Olynthus, Philip rewarded those of his soldiers who had distinguished themselves in battle. Since Diodorus speaks about τῶν στρατιωτῶν, it seems that this was primarily about rewarding common soldiers, although higher ranks may have been honoured as well. But besides the presents for the bravest soldiers, it was probably expected that all soldiers received a share of the spoils, as we will discuss below in more detail. In addition to army expenses, Philip II seems to have spent a large amount of money on foreign affairs. As we have heard, the king was quite generous towards the important men of the Greek poleis. By corrupting them, he made sure that they supported him or even betrayed their home cities.24 Regarding the endowment of land after the sack of Methone, Diodorus’ wording and the lack of evidence for higher Macedonians from Methone suggest that the land was given to common Macedonians. This means that most of the land would have been divided into small allotments and given to a rather large number of commoners. If this is true, this is our only evidence for the distribution of land to settlers in Macedonia. Although we are not informed about it by our sources, it is more than likely that the same thing happened in Krenides/Philippoi and in eastern Pieria. Griffith assumes that all in all about 10,000 up to 15,000 grants of land were made.25 By giving the land to his soldiers, the king demonstrated that he rewarded their services and also enlarged the number of men who could afford to fight as hoplites or phalangites.26 Philip II was, of course, not simply a champion of the common men. Theopompus tells us that Philip had almost 800 hetairoi (companions), each of them possessing as much land as 10,000 of the richest Greeks together.27 Although we can assume that

23 Just. Epit. 9.1.5–9. The enormous costs of the Macedonian army might also be the reason why Justin erroneously believes that the king was bad at dealing with money ( Just. Epit. 9.8.4–6). As Millett (2010) 496, suggests, Philip was probably ‘deliberately spending up to the limit’ in order to form a Macedonian army strong enough for the war he had planned against the Persian Empire. 24 See Ph. Bel. D 65. 25 Griffith (1979) 361–362. 26 Griffith (1979) 362. 27 Theopomp. FGrH 15 F 225b = Ath. 6,260 D-6,261 A. For the hetairoi see Sekunda (2010) 447–448.

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Theopompus’ details are exaggerated, it seems plausible that Philip gave huge amounts of land not only to the common soldiers but also to his hetairoi.28 The reign of Philip II of Macedonia is thus characterized by a policy of acquiring and reinvesting spoils to improve the military capabilities of the kingdom. In this context, the Macedonian approach towards spoils can be described as highly centralized. In the following chapters the reign of Alexander the Great, the age of the Successors and the reign of Philip V of Macedonia will supplement these insights further. III The Reign of Alexander the Great (336–323 BCE) The reign of Alexander III started somewhat inauspiciously since he inherited significant debts from his father, which forced him to borrow 800 talents to finance his war against the Persian Empire.29 The financial strain was somewhat lessened by the looting of Thebes in 335/334 BCE, which produced substantial financial profits. Diodorus reports that it was hard to believe how much property was plundered, and that more than 30,000 Thebans were captured and sold. In total, Alexander reportedly received 440 talents of silver, although it remains unclear whether this was just the money from the sale of the slaves or the total profit from plundering the city.30 An anecdote from Plutarch implies that the soldiers – in this case Thracian mercenaries – plundered the houses of the citizens during the fighting.31 Millett sees this as an example for the possibility of personal enrichment for soldiers, but due to military regulations of Philip V (see below) scepticism is warranted.32 The plundering of Thebes pales into insignificance in comparison with the campaign against the Persian Empire, which yielded both moveable and unmovable spoils in epic proportions.33 It is not possible to discuss the evidence in detail in the present study, but some interesting aspects regarding the movable spoils are noteworthy. First of all, the spoils were so large that it was difficult to transport them. According to Plutarch, Alexander at some point needed 10,000 teams of mules and 5,000 camels in 28

All in all, it seems that most of the endowments of land we know about affected Chalcidice and the area around Amphipolis, see Millett (2010) 496. There is evidence that Philip endowed land from Amphipolis to his hetairoi, because in Alexander’s army there was a squadron of Companion cavalry from Amphipolis. In addition, we know of some companions of Alexander from Amphi­polis who were Macedonians, while we know other companions from Amphipolis who were Greek, but not by origin from Amphipolis. Therefore, it seems that land was given to Macedonians and Greeks as well, see Griffith (1979) 352–3. 29 Arr. Anab. 7.9.6; Plut. Alex. 15.2; Plut. Mor. 25,3 (327d); Curt. 10.2.24. 30 Kleitarchos FrGrH 137 F 1 = Athen. 4.148 D-F; Diod. Sic. 17.14.1–4; Arr. Anab. 1.9.9; Plut. Alex. 12. For Cassander’s reconstruction of Thebes see Buraselis (2014). 31 Diod. Sic. 17.46.4, Arr. Anab. 2.24.5. 32 Millett (2010) 490. 33 Millett (2010) 498.

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order to transport everything the Macedonians had taken.34 It seems that at least part of the gold transported on mules belonged exclusively to the king.35 Plutarch and Curtius Rufus also describe that Alexander burned all the plunder before the army went to Bactria or India because there was so much that it became a handicap.36 Despite the anecdotal character of this story, we might assume that there was indeed so much plunder that one had to become a little picky, as Curtius Rufus mentions several times.37 And it is also easy to imagine that there were indeed problems concerning the transportation and that the mass of spoils might have slowed down the army from time to time.38 Furthermore, spoils will certainly have impeded the army during the crossing of rivers or the march through the Gedrosian desert. In these cases, the king, according to the sources, promised to compensate the losses in order to keep up morale, as is reported at least twice during Alexander’s campaign.39 In other cases, for example after the sack of Persepolis, the victorious soldiers may have fought each other for the best pieces, as Curtius Rufus reports.40 As we know already from the reign of Philip II, animals and captured humans were valuable spoils.41 Regarding the humans, after the sack of Tyros alone, the Macedonians sold 13,000 women and children into slavery.42 According to Curtius Rufus, later numbers of captured Persians were so high that Parmenion advised to ransom them; otherwise too many soldiers were occupied with guarding them.43 Due to the unusual amount of spoils during an exceptionally long campaign, the reign of Alexander the Great offers some insight into the practical problems related to spoils, which are only rarely mentioned under normal circumstances. This applies above all to the transportation and guarding of spoils. We also hear for the first time about competition between victorious soldiers; it is remarkable that the reason for this competition was not a lack of spoils, but rather the abundance. Regarding the amount of spoils, an interesting aspect is finally mentioned by Curtius Rufus: How could soldiers be motivated to go on after they had fought so many wars and gained such staggering amounts of spoils and wealth?44

34 Plut. Alex. 37.2. See Curt. 5.6.9. See Curt. 3.13.10–11 for a description of the spoils Parmenion made when he captured Dareios’ royal treasure in Damascus 332 BCE. The captives were ransomed later, Curt. 4.11.11. For the treasures found in Persepolis see 5.6.2–10. 35 Plut. Alex. 39.3. 36 Plut. Alex. 57.1–2; Curt. 6.6.14–17. 37 Curt. 3.11.20, 5.6.4–5. 38 Curt. 4.9.19–20, 5.1.6, 5.2.8. 39 Curt. 4.9.18–20, 8.4.18, 9.10.12. 40 Curt. 5.6.2–6. 41 Alexander at some point made a gift of 30,000 cattle from the spoils, according to Curt. 8.4.20. 42 Diod. Sic. 17.46.4; Arr. Anab. 2.24.5. 43 Curt. 4.11.11. 44 Curt. 9.2.10.

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IV The Time of the Diadochoi (323–281 BCE) In the battle of Gabiene against Antigonus Monophthalmus in the year 316/315 BCE, the soldiers of Eumenes of Cardia lost their baggage and their families to the enemy. Subsequently, they refused to continue fighting and secretly contacted Antigonus, with whom they made an agreement: for the surrender of Eumenes, Antigonus promised the soldiers to return their baggage and their families. Furthermore, they were incorporated into Antigonus’ army.45 The so-called Silver Shields, an elite corps, played a vital role in this betrayal. They must have been quite old, since they were the oldest veterans of Philip II and Alexander – reportedly, they were between 60 and 70 years old at the time.46 Because they had been fighting since the beginning of Alexander’s campaign, they seem never to have had the chance to secure the revenues they had received for their services in the last 20 or more years. As a result, their betrayal is quite understandable, since they had lost literally everything when Antigonus captured their baggage and their families. Under normal circumstances, Macedonian soldiers joined their king in war and received in return their pay and their share of the spoils. After the campaign season, they went home and brought the acquired revenues to their families. If they had to stay in winter camp, they usually returned the next year. Therefore, the case of the Silver Shields is exceptional; their life resembled that of mercenaries. Although an unusual example, it nevertheless shows us the importance of spoils from the perspective of the soldiers. V The Reign of Philip V (221–179 BCE) Another example in this regard is presented by Polybius, who mentions a mutiny in the army of Philip V of Macedon, which offers interesting insights into the distribution of spoils. The mutiny happened during the Greek Social War (220–217 BCE), and broke out after Philip had sold the spoils the Macedonians had won in a victory over the Spartans. For reasons not relevant for this paper, the peltasts and the agema – an elite corps within the peltasts –47 feared that they would not receive their part of the spoils. Polybius says explicitly that it was the common right and custom that the soldiers received their share, so we can assume that the situation 100 years before – during the

45 Diod. Sic. 19.43.2–8; Plut. Eum. 16–19; Just. Epit. 14.3–4. 46 Plut. Eum. 16.4. Interestingly, it was not Eumenes who had to motivate the Silver Shields to wage battle against Antigonus, but rather the other way around: Plut. Eum. 3. 47 Walbank (1957) 558; Hatzopoulos (2001) 66–73; Juhel & Sekunda (2009); Sekunda (2013) 93–94. For the peltasts see Sekunda (2010) 461–463; Sekunda (2013) 94–95.

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reigns of Philip II and Alexander III – was probably similar.48 Interestingly, it seems that the king was responsible for selling the spoils and giving the soldiers their part of the profit in cash. This conforms to the information that Philip II sold all the spoils from Olynthus, as we have seen before. In the case of Philip V, Polybius mentions one other occasion during a campaign in the Greek Social War, in which the king moved to specific places in the Peloponnese in order to sell the spoils.49 It emerges from a remarkable inscription containing regulations for military discipline,50 which could be directly related to the just mentioned mutiny,51 that there was an official called cheiristes in the Macedonian army who was responsible for the distribution of spoils. He seems to have been expected to make a profit from this office, because the inscription mentions explicitly that the cheiristes is not supposed to get a share.52 From the same inscription we know that in the reign of Philip V soldiers who were awarded a crown after the battle received double the amount of spoils as other soldiers.53 Furthermore, there seem to have been problems with soldiers who tried to hide the spoils they had taken. If soldiers were seen coming back with spoils, the generals, several officers and other officials had to meet the soldiers three miles from the camp. In case anything went wrong, the generals and the others seem to have been supposed to pay a fine.54 The idea of this procedure was probably that the soldiers (or corrupt officers) should not get a chance to hide their spoils. At the same time, the fine highlights the seriousness of the procedure.55 This means that all the spoils were first collected somewhere, and later the cheiristes was supposed to give every soldier his share, probably in the form of money after the spoils had been sold. 48 49 50 51 52

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Plb. 5.25. See Plb. 10.17.1–5 (see below). Plb. 4.77.5. See Chaniotis (2005) 133. ISE 114; Hatzopoulos (1996) no. 12. As we will see below, some aspects of this inscription are also mentioned by Polybius in a more general context. Juhel 2002, 401–402. Austin (2006) 180 also prefers a dating in Philip’s earlier reign. Hatzopoulos (1996) no. 12, fragment A, column III, ll. 1–4. “[…] [anyone who has been awarded?] a crown shall receive a double share [of the] spoils, but nothing is to be given to the cheiristes, and [the] ‘friends’ of the king [shall adjudicate?].” Translation Austin 2006, 181. Juhel (2002) 403 is certainly right when he assumes that the cheiristes was probably supported by a large staff. We also know about official sellers of spoils in the Greek armies of the Classical period. At least in some cases, those officials were called laphyropolai. See Pritchett (1971) 90–91. See previous note. Hatzopoulos (1996) no. 12, fragment B, column I, ll. 10–17. “Concerning discipline over war spoils. [If] anyone brings spoils to the camp, [the] generals taking with them the speirarchs and tetrarchs and [the] other officers, and together with these the [attendants] in sufficient numbers shall go to meet them at a distance of three stades in front of the camp, / [and they shall not allow] those who captured the spoils to keep it. And should any subordination [of this kind] take place, the [generals], speirarchs, tetrarchs and chief attendants shall pay a sum equivalent to [what each of them owes?].” Translation Austin (2006) 181. See also the translation presented by Juhel (2002) 404. For speirarchs and tetrarchs see Sekunda (2013) 89–90. Juhel (2002) 407–410.

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One could get the impression that the inscription refers to single soldiers who plundered and foraged as opportunity arose. This impression is probably wrong, since the inscription suggests a rather systematic level of plundering. In fact, Polybius describes an incident from the Greek Social War in which Philip V ordered some of his soldiers to raid the country. Remarkably, the foraging parties also took prisoners.56 There are also regulations regarding the plundering of enemy territory, but the correct reading of that part of the inscription is in part uncertain.57 If Hatzopoulos’ reconstruction of the lines 15–18 is correct, the soldiers were not allowed to forage, burn crops or cut vines in enemy territory. Furthermore, the soldiers were promised a reward if they denunciated comrades who were guilty of these offenses. Since it is not always easy to support an army in enemy territory, it makes sense to prohibit the burning of crops. And, as in the case of the spoils, it seems reasonable to collect all food in order to distribute it fairly. Nevertheless, one wonders if the regulations could refer not only to enemy territory, but also to the behaviour of the troops within the borders of Macedonian allies. After all, Philip’s army was frequently active in friendly territory.58 Although the inscription is dealing with regulations made by Philip V more than 100 years after the reigns of Philip II and Alexander III, we may assume that some aspects were similar to the earlier period. First, in both cases there was a special reward for soldiers who behaved exceptionally in battle. Furthermore, we can expect that all soldiers received a part of the spoils.59 We also can assume that, in every army, soldiers tried to hide spoils in order to avoid sharing. Therefore, there must have been some rules or customs regarding this problem already in earlier times.60 Selling the spoils and giving the soldiers their share in the form of money might have had two reasons: First, this made it simpler to distribute the spoils fairly, and secondly, money was easier 56 57

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Plb. 4.73.4–5, see Juhel (2002) 406. Walbank (1957) 525 and Chaniotis (2005) 133 assume that Philip chose the marching route of his army not only for strategic reasons, but also in view of the question where he could make spoils and where he could sell them. Hatzopoulos (1996) no. 12, fragment B, column II, ll-15–18. “Concerning [foraging]. If anyone [forages] in [enemy] territory, a reward [for his denunciation?] shall be promised and given [And if anyone?] burns crops or [cuts] vines [or] is guilty [of any other offence, the generals shall promise?] a reward for his denunciation …” Translation Austin (2006) 181. See Philon of Byzantion D 6–7 for the advice not to destroy the fields of an enemy city under siege in order to motivate the inhabitants to surrender, as long as no harm has been done to their property. See Chaniotis (2005) 123. Roselaar suggested this point within the discussion of the present paper. Indeed, allied forces could present serious danger for their hosts. See Chaniotis (2005) 124–125. That every soldier received his fair share of the spoils was extremely important, as Plb. 10.17.1–5 emphasizes with good reason. If a fair distribution had not been guaranteed, no soldier would have been willing to perform duties like securing the camp, because it was not possible to capture some spoils in this case. As a result, from Polybius’ point of view, a thoughtful king or general should order that every soldier should hand over his personal spoils in favour of a fair distribution. In 10.16.1–9 Polybius describes quite similar customs in the Roman army. For a comprehensive analysis of Plb. 10.17.1–5 (including the inscription discussed above) see Loreto (1990). As Fraß shows in the present volume, there was already an “established order of the distribution of spoils” in Homeric times.

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to carry. After all, what was a soldier supposed to do with his share of the grain of 180 Athenian transport ships?61 As we have seen above, Philip II acquired a large amount of spoils by capturing this fleet. On the one hand, he gained the grain and the crew and on the other hand he could use the timber of the ships for his siege train. For similar reasons, it was attractive to capture warships in order to use them for the victor’s own fleet, without having to spend time, money and resources to construct them.62 The same applies to the oarsmen, marines and others who could join the victor’s naval forces.63 In this context, something rather unusual happened during the battle of Chios (201 BCE).64 The Pergamene king Attalus tried to help one of his ships that was in danger of being sunk by a Macedonian vessel.65 However, Attalus moved too far away from his own fleet, allowing his opponent Philip V to capture his ship.66 Attalus had no other choice but to steer his three vessels to the coast, where he and his men fled to a nearby city. In this way, Philip won not only three warships, but also the royal equipage on board. The Pergamene king had ordered his soldiers to spread the latter on deck, hoping to prevent the Macedonian soldiers from persecuting him immediately.67 By seducing the soldiers with these royal spoils, Attalus probably saved his kingship and maybe even his life. VI The Distribution of Spoils among Allied Forces In the reign of Philip V, we also encounter an excellent example for the distribution of spoils among allied forces. In 202 BCE, the Macedonian king and his ally, Prusias I of Bithynia, attacked the city of Cius. While Philip received the movable spoils, Prusias took possession of the city.68 Such arrangements were frequent in the Greek world, as is particularly well documented on Crete.69 Even when the Aetolians became allies of the Romans in their war against Philip V in 211 BCE (First Macedonian

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See Juhel (2002) 407. See n. 73. Regarding the costs for constructing a war fleet see Roth (2007) 385; Kleu (2015) 14 n. 16, 185– 186. For a general overview of naval forces and battles in Hellenistic times see De Souza (2007a; 2007b). It was very time-consuming to train oarsmen appropriately. Since there were several hundred oarsmen on Hellenistic warships, the training of the necessary maneuvers was even more difficult. Therefore, professional oarsmen were appreciated and in demand, particularly as most Hellenistic sea powers recruited their oarsmen from the same geographical areas. See Kleu (2015) 14 n. 16, 47, 105 n. 541, 114. For a detailed discussion of the Battle of Chios see Kleu (2015) 120–130. Plb. 16.6.2–3. Plb. 16.6.4–5. Plb. 16.6.5–8. Plb. 15.22.1–2, 15.23.9–10, 18.3.12, 18.4.7; Liv. 32.34.6; Strab. 12.4.3; Steph. Byz. s.v. Προῦσα. Chaniotis (2005) 135.

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War [215–205  BCE]) their treaty was quite similar to the one Philip and Prusias I had agreed. According to the treaty provisions, the Aetolians were supposed to receive the unmovable spoils, while it seems to have been exactly defined which moveable spoils went to the Aetolians or to the Romans.70 Since the Macedonians and the Romans both were operating in areas not directly connected to their territories, it is not surprising that they agreed to leave the unmovable spoils to their local allies. The movable spoils on the other hand could easily be sold and the financial return was distributed to the soldiers in the form of money. The similarities between the two cases lead to the question if the Romans adopted Greek customs regarding the distribution of spoils between two or even more allies. This is not necessarily the case, since Aymard has shown that such treaties were quite common in the ancient world.71 Therefore, the provisions of the Roman-Aetolian treaty of 211 BCE were probably as customary for the Romans as they were for the Aetolians. VII Conclusion Let us try to organize the multifaceted information we have gained from the source material. Spoils could be acquired by capturing cities, plundering and looting the countryside, pillaging the battlefield – in lucky cases including the enemy’s camp – and by attacking both transport columns over land and war fleets.72 The spoils could be either movable or immovable. Movable spoils seem to have been collected and sold by the king, or rather by the cheiristes, in order to allow for a fair distribution.73 Besides, money was not only easier to distribute, but also more comfortable to carry than plunder. Too much plunder could hamper an army’s mobility and attract the attention of other enemies. Furthermore, it was possible to receive an extra share by distinguishing oneself in battle, where the promise of spoils was used to increase fighting morale. At least during the reign of Philip V, the distribution of spoils was organized on a remarka-

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SEG 13,382 = IG IX 12 2,241 = HGIÜ 428; Plb. 9.39.1–5, 11.5.1–9; Liv. 26.24.10, 26.26.3. Aymard (1957). See also Dahlheim (1968) 190–192. Most of the source material offers information regarding spoils gained by capturing cities, see Chaniotis (2005) 132. In comparison, we hear rarely of the plundering of battlefields. See Plut. Alex. 16.8 for one of the exceptions. Plb. 4.80.16 might be an exception, in which Philip V distributed the actual spoils and not the money from the sale. But as Juhel (2002) 406–407 has shown, this impression could result from a summarizing description of a multi-stage procedure. Juhel mentions other Hellenistic examples in which spoils seem to have been distributed directly. Some of the examples from Alexander’s campaign against Persia give the impression that in this special case the soldiers could choose their pick from the spoils which, if true, might have been a result of the sheer quantity of plunder.

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bly professional level. Remarkable as well is that Philip’s march routes might have been influenced by the hope for gaining and selling spoils. In some cases, kings plundered cities or territories which they afterwards gave as presents to third parties in order to win their goodwill. Thus, immovable spoils helped to accomplish goals in the field of foreign relations. When the kings fought together with other monarchs, poleis or koina, the distribution of the spoils was defined by treaties. If immovable spoils such as cities, mines, land etc. were gained in an area that was occupied for the long term, this could lead to regular profit in the form of taxes, duties, resources and similar arrangements. Furthermore, this gave the king the possibility to distribute land to his soldiers and friends. In cases where the inhabitants were sold as movable spoils or simply driven away, the king could even send new settlers to a city. Thus, he could at the same time profit from the increased wellbeing of his subjects as well as the duties (military service, dues etc.) the new settlers had to perform. Since most Hellenistic wars were ultimately about territory and related resources, Chaniotis classifies land as the most important form of war spoils.74 In contrast with the approach towards spoils in Homeric (= early Archaic) times, as presented by Fraß in this volume, the raids of the Macedonian kings had no private character at all but were matters of state.75 Regarding the distribution of spoils there was also a more pronounced private character in the Roman Republic. As Rosenstein has shown in his article in the present volume, there was a “pattern of privatizing the profits from war at the expense of the public”. The profits of war went rather to individuals or certain groups than to the public treasury, which corresponds with Millett’s opinion that in the Roman Republic “profits of conquest and empire were shared among the ruling elite and subsequently expended on conspicuous consumption, buying support and the purchase of land and slaves. In the Macedonian case, increased resources were largely funnelled through the king into military and paramilitary purposes: the process of distribution was therefore more focused”.76 But there were also similarities between Macedonia and the Roman Republic. In 10.16.1–9 Polybius says that the Romans used to choose according to certain criteria which soldiers were assigned to plunder a conquered city. Afterwards, these soldiers were supposed to bring the spoils to their respective legions. When the spoils were sold, the tribunes distributed the revenue among all soldiers fairly, including those 74 75

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Chaniotis (2005) 130–132. In Hellenistic kingdoms the king and the state were largely identical, see Juhel (2002) 409. This does not mean that the king was free to do as he wished. He was supposed to give his soldiers their fair share, as we have seen regarding the mutiny in the army of Philip V. Furthermore, the king had to keep his philoi pleased in order to prevent them from joining one of the other kings. The possibility to join other armies or powers might have been much larger in the Macedonian than in the Roman case. Millet (2010) 496.

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who were too ill to fight. This way, the Romans tried to keep up both morale and discipline. All soldiers had to take an oath not to steal part of the spoils. Although some details differed from the Macedonian approach, it is clear that in Polybian times the Romans also had concrete rules regarding collecting and distributing the spoils. Furthermore, as in the Macedonian army, the spoils were sold and afterwards distributed in the form of money. While the differences regarding the approaches towards spoils were mainly due to the differences between the governmental organization of the Roman Republic and the Macedonian kingdom, one wonders if the similarities were a result of a Roman adaption of Greek customs. The passages regarding the distribution of spoils between two or more allies have shown that we have to be very careful with such assumptions. It seems that there is a need for further studies that compare the Macedonian and the Roman approaches towards spoils, and furthermore compare them with those of other ancient people, e. g. Carthaginians or Persians. Michael Kleu Independent scholar [email protected]

Spoils in the Early Roman Republic

Spoils in Early Rome From the Regal Period to c. 390 BCE Jeremy Armstrong I Introduction Spoils are a central feature of early Roman history. The explicit desire for spoils drives much of the warfare in the narrative, armies are regularly described returning from war heavily laden with spoils, and the proceeds of war supposedly funded many of Rome’s early constructions and helped to create and underpin Rome’s early nobility. Spoils are, quite literally, everywhere in early Rome. And yet, perhaps in part because of this pervasive quality, they are also deeply problematic. Although regularly attested, the descriptions of spoils in our sources often seem generic in character and formulaic in application. How far can we trust Livy’s assertions that Roman armies returned to the city, year after year, bearing ‘immense spoils’ (ingenti praeda)?1 Was he working from actual records, or simply describing how he envisioned a victorious early Roman army behaving? In what is already a difficult period to study, spoils represent a particularly tricky subject, as it is hard to separate literary conventions from established practices and authentic records. Spoils are also, arguably, more subject to the vagaries of the evidence than other aspects of the narrative. Spoils are defined, almost entirely, by their specific context and the nature of their acquisition; they are profits acquired as a result of warfare.2 The nature of these profits can vary significantly depending on the context. Although praeda, the most common word used for spoils, is usually conceived of as 1

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In the first pentad alone, Livy uses this exact formulation at 1.33, 2.53, 3.3, 3.8, 3.10, 3.61, 3.70, 4.19, 4.55, 5.14, and 5.19. See also Oakley’s (2005b, esp. 15), comments regarding the general shift in detailed evidence found in Book 10, and particularly with regards to spoils and triumphs (Oakley 2005b, 445), where he suggests “… for the first time in his narrative of 295, and then again of this year [293 BCE], L. had access to, or chose to use, detailed information about a triumph which went back to official records …”. Although ‘spoils’ obviously derives from spolium, meaning ‘the hide of an animal’, and thus features a strong tangible and portable element, it has come to mean anything taken in war (see Gillespie 2011, 3.6, 3.219–228, for discussion).

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portable wealth3 – and spoils certainly seemed to include portable items like livestock, slaves, or bullion – this need not be the case.4 Spoils might also include land, or perhaps social prestige, power, access to markets, or even strategic security. Indeed, almost anything can be classified as a ‘spoil of war’. What makes these profits ‘spoils’, and not simply ‘wealth’, ‘capital’, or ‘power’ is the fact that they were acquired through warfare. In order to label them as ‘spoils’, we must know this crucial contextual detail. Frustratingly, however, it is precisely this sort of context which is most elusive in our evidence for early Rome. While the evidence for spoils in early Rome is certainly difficult, the present chapter will argue that some broad developments are still visible. Specifically, it will suggest that there are two periods where the evidence suggests an increased tension around spoils, and perhaps a shift in how they were viewed in Rome. The first is in the early fifth century BCE and seems to relate to how the Romans and their neighbours, especially the Latini and Hernici, interacted over spoils. In this period, our sources suggest a new focus on how being associated with a specific group or community related to access to spoils – with members of different groups being treated differently, seemingly in contrast to earlier periods. In this period, spoils seem to have represented an important aspect of a wider debate around how these groups interacted, related, and identified. The second period is from c. 420 BCE to c. 380 BCE. Beginning in the late fifth century, there is a tension visible in our sources between Roman soldiers and the wider Roman community over the ownership of spoils. While previously, wealth acquired in warfare seems to have existed largely outside the confines of the state and community, in the late fifth century the community seems to have assumed a much more active and central relationship with it. War no longer exclusively benefited the soldiers who engaged in it, but the community which countenanced and supported it as well. Or at least this is what the Roman community seems to have desired. Although the exact impetus behind this development is uncertain, it is interesting that it seems to have coincided with the advent of both tributum and stipendium, the increased acquisition and use of ager publicus as part of wider Roman territorial expansion following warfare, and changes in Rome’s military magistracies. Thus, while the nuances of these developments are likely beyond the limitations of the source material, it is possible to suggest that the Roman attitude to spoils seems to have changed during the early Republic, with a much greater role being played by the community as the years went on.

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It is often found with forms of egerere, meaning ‘to shift’ or ‘move’. See Oakley (1997) 417, for discussion and references. However, various regulations on both immoveable and moveable praeda existed – Dig. 49.1.15.20. See Ogilvie (1965) 346–347, for discussion. Other Latin words for spoils include spolia, exuviae, and manubiae. However, we could also consider the expansion of Rome’s imperium, and indeed Roman influence as forms of spoils. All of these are considered in this chapter.

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II Towards a Methodology Before attempting to unpick the nature of early Roman spoils, we must first confront the deeply problematic and anachronistic nature of the evidence. Most of our sources seem to have assumed that geographic expansion was a primary goal of all Roman warfare – both early and late.5 Consequently, the Romans are regularly described as seeking to acquire land through warfare, all the way back to their earliest periods. However, there is a long tradition of scholarship questioning the concept of a Roman territorial kingdom or empire built through conquest in this early period,6 and indeed works like Stuart Elden’s 2013 The Birth of Territory have challenged even the applicability of a concept like territory in contexts like this.7 While all our evidence suggests that Romans were militarily active throughout the regal and early Republican periods, and also seem to have acquired land in various ways, the relationship between these two phenomena is complicated. As will be discussed later, despite the clear assumption that territorial conquest was always an aim of Roman warfare, explicit references to it are actually quite rare until the fourth century BCE.8 While Rome seems to have expanded territorially in the sixth and fifth centuries BCE, most notably through the addition of tribes, which seem to have had a geographic element,9 it is unclear whether

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Liv. 1.33.9, referring to the reign of Ancus Marcius, reports “this reign was a period of growth, not only for the City, but also for her lands and boundaries. The Maesian Forest was taken from the Veientes, extending Rome’s dominion clear to the sea; at the Tiber’s mouth the city of Ostia was founded, and salt-works were established near-by; while in recognition of signal success in war the temple of Jupiter Feretrius was enlarged”. (ad ultimum omnibus copiis conisus Ancus acie primum vincit; inde ingenti praeda potens Romam redit, tum quoque multis milibus Latinorum in civitatem acceptis, quibus, ut iungeretur Palatio Aventinum, ad Murciae datae sedes … nec urbs tantum hoc rege crevit, sed etiam ager finesque. Silva Maesia Veientibus adempta usque ad mare imperium prolatum et in ore Tiberis Ostia urbs condita, salinae circa factae, egregieque rebus bello gestis aedis Iovis Feretri amplificata). All translations are taken from the Loeb series unless otherwise noted. For recent work see Vistoli (2009); Ziółkowski (2009); Stek (2014). For general discussion see Smith (2017). Elden (2013). See Armstrong (2016a) 129–182, for discussion of the sixth and fifth centuries BCE. See Roselaar (2010) 31–64, for discussion and references for fourth century acquisitions. Famously, Rome’s early tribes, despite being associated with distinct pieces of territory by the late Republic, all carry gentilicial names. This suggests that they represented zones of control for these gentes, and thus might be subject to movement as the gentes moved or their power waxed and waned. This changes with the creation of the tribus Clustumina, which was connected to Crustumerium (Festus 48L). Livy (1.38) records the town was captured by the Tarquins, and was again captured by the Romans c. 500 (Liv. 2.19), although it is uncertain when the tribus Crustumina was created. It may have been created in 495 BCE, where Livy (2.21.7) suggests the number of tribes was expanded to 21 under the consulship of an App. Claudius. However, the sources are not explicit on the matter and some have argued (esp. Forsyth 1994, 289–290) that the years 495 and 471 may have been conflated in the record, and the expansion of the tribes may have occurred in 471 BCE. Either way, it is entirely uncertain if this should be classified as a result of warfare or not.

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this was the result of military conquest or merely negotiation.10 This is not to mention the fact that, given that no rural tribes were supposedly created between the establishment of the tribus Clustumina, likely in the early fifth century BCE, and the creation of the Veientine tribes in 387 BCE, even if Rome’s armies were attempting to conquer and incorporate land, they were decidedly ineffective at it.11 Furthermore, the archaeological evidence for early Roman ‘power’ and control – both territorial and military – is questionable at best. Recent surveys of areas supposedly captured by the Romans in the archaic period have revealed a remarkable level of continuity in material culture across this supposedly significant change in control and ownership of the land.12 Conquest, whatever that meant in the sixth and fifth centuries BCE, seems to have changed very little on the ground – at least beyond the destruction caused by the warfare itself.13 Indeed, our first clear archaeological evidence for explicitly ‘Roman’ influence outside of the city is quite late and relates to the issue of coinage c. 300 BCE, bearing the Greek genitive PΩMAIΩN and plausibly minted in Campania, which appears in hoards in south Italy dating to the early third century BCE.14 This coinage not only indicates the existence of an identifiable Roman people and polity, in contrast to an individual or gens (from Rome or otherwise), but also the ability of this people/polity to continue to influence a community after capturing it in 327 BCE.15 Before the fourth century BCE, however, the evidence for sustained Roman power and influence following military conquest is problematic at best. Alongside the expansionist narrative of Roman warfare, however, there is also a second narrative stream – and arguably quite a prominent one in the early periods – which details how warfare was also focused on acquiring portable wealth. Successful 10 11 12 13

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See Terrenato (2019) for the most complete discussion of the negotiation model for Roman expansion. See also Armstrong (2020a; 2020b) for discussion of expansion and Rome’s tribes in the fifth century BCE. This seeming military ineffectiveness has long been recognized, and is often discussed in terms of wider Roman decline in the fifth century BCE. See Cornell (1995) 293–326. See Terrenato (2019) 215–229, for discussion. This point is, admittedly, debated. Terrenato (2019, esp. 215–229), has presented the most forceful and compelling argument for this lack of change due to Roman control (see also Terrenato 1998, for earlier expressions of the argument). However, this is not to say that Rome and Roman armies did not impact communities and areas across Italy. As Cascino, Di Giuseppe & Patterson (2012) suggest, Veii experienced a marked shift and decline c. 400 BCE, which can easily be associated with the sack by Rome’s forces. Rajala’s 2016 study of Sutrium and Nepi may also show some possible changes due to Roman action. This being noted, there is no solid evidence for changes due to sustained Roman control or influence. RRC 1/1 and 2/1. See Crawford (1985) ad loc. More recently, see Armstrong & Termeer (2023) and Sheedy (2023). Sheedy, in particular, makes the case that RRC 1/1 was not solely minted in Neapolis, but may have been produced by a number of communities connected with Rome in this period. This coinage is roughly contemporaneous with various colony foundations, although recent work on these sites reveals they are more complex – and heterogeneous – than traditionally thought. See Bispham (2006); Bradley (2006). Liv. 8.22.8–23.12; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 15.5–10.

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warfare traditionally meant the enrichment of the military leader and his army, as well as the embellishment of Rome’s physical landscape through the display and dedication or use of portable wealth.16 Spem praedae is offered as a regular motivation for warfare in the early Republic (e. g. Liv. 2.5, 4.9, 4.31, etc.). Spoils were also used to adorn houses and monuments in Rome by the middle Republic (Liv. 10.47; 22.57; 24.21), and it is likely this practice occurred earlier as well.17 Not only that, but stripping an enemy of his belongings was a sign of honour, and Valerius Maximus (2.7.14) reported that doing so twice entitled a soldier to promotion. We also have regular references to the capture of praeda from the fields (e. g. Liv. 1.22, 2.60, 3.68; etc.), which most have assumed to mean livestock, along with the specific mentions of pecus (e. g. Liv. 3.38, 6.31, 7.30, 10.2, 10.36; etc.). Prisoners (captivos), which could be either ransomed or sold as slaves, are also common (e. g. Liv. 1.37, 6.13, 8.39, 10.20; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.47, 8.30, 8.69; etc.). These motifs are widespread in our sources for Roman history, both early and late. Thus, we have quite a bit of contextualizing information in the literary record for early Rome, which might help us determine the goals of warfare and label various types of wealth as ‘spoils’. However, as with the expansionist narrative, whether or not we should trust this information is another matter entirely. The resonance between the suggested goals of early Roman warfare in our sources and the likely expectations and goals of Rome’s late republican and early imperial historians is immediately suspicious given what we know about the nature of the source tradition. While Rome seems to have featured an epigraphic tradition as early as the sixth century BCE, some form of preserved record-keeping (the fasti, annales maximi, etc.) from at least the late fifth century onwards, and the advent of native Roman prose in the late fourth century, it was only in the late third century that Roman authors began to write narrative histories of the city. This relatively late start for native historiography has long caused problems for scholars interested in early Rome, and the area of spoils is no exception. While material preserved from the sixth, fifth, and fourth centuries BCE may have offered a broad historical structure for Rome’s later historians, and even some important details, it is likely only from c. 200 BCE that the Roman perspective on the more contextual material – which included the goals and results of warfare – would have been regularly enshrined in a written form.18 For earlier peri-

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The traditionally perceived decline in public building during the middle of the fifth century BCE might therefore be plausibly connected with a decline in military success during the period – and, indeed, this has often been argued (e. g. Cornell 1995, 304–309). However, as Hopkins (2016) 126– 152, has argued, in his evocatively named chapter ‘The Continuity of Splendor (ca. 500–450)’, this decline in Rome may have been overstated. See Rawson (1990) 158–173, for discussion. Other perspectives, and most notably the western Greek view of Roman expansion, may have been written down much earlier – most notably in the works of Timaeus of Tauromenium and Hieronymus of Cardia. Indeed, later writers in the Greek tradition (Diodorus and Dionysus of Halicarnassus) often seem to be working from a very different set of sources from Livy for Rome’s

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ods, Rome’s late-Republican historians would have often been speculating, based on a combination of their own experience and the cryptic evidence available to them from the regal and early republican periods – if, indeed, they bothered to consult it at all.19 The fact that the specific motivations and goals of all Roman warfare seem to align, almost exactly, with the contemporary motivations and goals of Roman warfare in the mid to late Republic, should make even the most optimistic and trusting historian a bit apprehensive. When this is coupled with the rather generic and formulaic way in which spoils are usually mentioned in the early narrative, the odds of the narrative featuring a high degree of anachronism with regards to spoils become astronomical. While we might be able to discuss early wars, and even battles, against various opponents with a certain degree of confidence, we would be unwise to trust our sources on the specific context, goals, or spoils acquired in these engagements. Given both the cryptic nature of the annalistic tradition and the fluid nature of the oral tradition, this sort of information is unlikely to have been regularly preserved intact from the archaic period. The emerging archaeological picture, so vital in the modern study of early Rome – and commonly used as a check on the anachronisms of the literature  – is decidedly ill-suited to answering questions regarding the nature and importance of portable spoils. While we have very good archaeological evidence for a wealthy and powerful community at the site of Rome from at least the sixth century BCE onwards, it has yet to provide the sort of contextual details we need. In contrast to sites like Olympia or Delphi in Greece, which offer numerous dedications with associated inscriptions, the archaeological record for central Italy does not feature similar deposits which can be easily identified as ‘spoils’. Although literary evidence going back to Ennius (cum spolia generis detraxeritis, quam inscriptionem dabitis?)20 indicates that dedicated armour was often inscribed, archaeological support from clearly identifiable Roman contexts is generally lacking. The first example is an arguably late-fourth century cuirass inscribed with Q LVTATIO C F A MANLIO C F / CONSOLIBUS FALERIES ­CAPTO, although the provenance is debated.21 In the early third century BCE one could include the inscription from the sarcophagus of Scipio Barbatus, with its referwars of the fourth century BCE. However, their etic perspective makes their understanding of the goals of Roman warfare problematic. They would have had a very particular view of the results of Roman warfare, but it is difficult to know how much they would have understood the motivations for it. 19 Raaflaub (2005) 24–26 (and Raaflaub’s addendum for the second edition, 26–31) as well as Von Ungern-Sternberg (2005) 81–82. See also Armstrong & Richardson (2017) 1–16, for a general discussion. 20 Enn. Sab. fr. praet. 5–6. 21 Zimmerman 1986. This would resonate with the literary reference to the tabernae veteres, which were supposedly adorned with captured Samnite shields in 310 BCE (Liv. 9.40). However, any reference to them is complicated by the so-called novae tabernae, which were adorned with the shields of the Cimbri in the late second century BCE (Cic. Orat. 2.66). But there are enough liter-

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ence to OPSIDES (‘hostages’),22 and the Columna Rostrata C. Duilii, with its distribution of ‘naval spoils’.23 The next clear example would likely be the Talamonaccio hoard, typically associated with the Roman victory at Telamon in 225 BCE, although even here the identification of spoils is difficult.24 While it may be possible to associate some temple constructions with spoils, most famously that of Jupiter Optimus Maximus, this relies on the literary record for support – and thus makes for a somewhat circular argument.25 However, we should not simply throw our hands up in despair. Although it is impossible to circumvent these issues completely, the literary evidence is most certainly not without value, provided it is handled appropriately. Most notably, we can search for areas and instances where the use of spoils does not fulfil our expectations – or, more accurately, the likely expectations of the authors of our extant texts – nor does it achieve a particular literary or narrative goal. In other words, where spoils are deployed in an anomalous way, this suggests that the narrative may reflect part of the historical reality. It should be noted that the presence of anomalies is by no means a sure indication of an archaic relic, as there are countless reasons why passages might not conform to a norm. Indeed, this is still a somewhat perilous process, as we risk missing passages which are both authentic and conforming to expectations, but it allows us to identify sections of the narrative which are at least worthy of additional scrutiny. When these ‘anomalies’ are put against the wider backdrop of our evolving picture of early Roman society, some of the most interesting features of the changing Roman approach to spoils begin to emerge.

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ary references to spoils being used either as monuments, or to finance them, in the late fourth and early third centuries BCE to suggest that their acquisition and dedication was common by then. CIL VI 1285: CORNELIVS LVCIVS SCIPIO BARBATVS GNAIVOD PATRE / PROGNATVS FORTIS VIR SAPIENSQVE – QVOIVS FORMA VIRTVTEI PARISVMA / FVIT – CONSOL CENSOR AIDILIS QVEI FVIT APVD VOS  – TAVRASIA CISAVNA / SAMNIO·CEPIT  – ­SVBIGIT OMNE LOVCANA OPSIDESQVE ABDOVCIT. The phrase OPSIDES is usually transcribed in classical Latin as obsides and is presumably an archaic form of obsidium, meaning ‘hostage’. Inscr. Ital. 13.3.69, line 17: [TRIVMP]OQVE NAVALED PRAEDAD POPLOM [DONAVET]. See Kondratieff (2004) for discussion. The rostra itself might also be included, as it was supposedly adorned by the prows of ships from Antium after the Latin War in 338 BCE (Liv. 8.14; Flor. 1.11; Plin. HN 34.5). See Armstrong (2017) for discussion. Many have accepted this type of evidence as unproblematic, e. g. Sehlmeyer (1999); Östenberg (2009); Hölkeskamp (2012); and Davies (2017), although in general with reservations for the sixth and fifth centuries BCE, and it certainly seems to fit with manubial building practices from the third century BCE onward. However, given the clear differences in Roman society and politics between the third and sixth centuries (see e. g. Flower 2009, for discussion), the lack of any epigraphic evidence or dedicatory inscriptions from this period clearly attesting this sort of practice, as well as the known problems and anachronisms within the literary evidence, it would be unwise to say the evidence is certain.

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III The Problematic Evidence for Roman spoils, 753 to c. 390 BCE The vast majority of references to spoils in early Rome, found in Livy, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Plutarch, and other sources, can be comfortably categorized as either generic or formulaic. For instance, Livy often refers to armies returning from war “laden with their spoils” (Liv. 1.4.9, 3.29.5, 3.70.13, 5.45.4, etc.) or with “immense spoils” (ingenti praeda – in Livy’s first decade at 1.33, 2.53, 3.3, 3.8, 3.10, 3.61, 3.70, 4.19, 4.55, 5.14, 5.19, 7.17, 9.35, 10.17, 10.20). These sorts of references appear regularly in the record and seem to be deployed in a formulaic way to flesh out the wider narrative, particularly in the first pentad of Livy. They are simply the normal descriptors used to refer to a successful army returning from campaign.26 On a few occasions, our sources offer slightly more detail about the nature of these spoils, for instance with Livy’s descriptions of armies “driving spoils from the fields” (1.1.5, 1.15.2, 1.22.4, 3.5.13, 3.66.3, etc.), armies acquiring “both men and beasts” (hominum atque pecudum – see Liv. 3.38.3, 7.30.15, 10.36.17) or other references to animals or agricultural produce being taken from fields (agri) (e. g. Liv. 2.60.2, 3.8.6, 3.30.4, 3.68.2, 3.70.13, etc.).27 These phrases clearly imply certain types of spoils, namely livestock and slaves. However, again, their use still seems to be largely formulaic. While it is possible that some of these details originated in an annalistic record of warfare from the archaic period, and indeed the regular pursuit of these types of spoils would fit well with what we know about archaic Roman society, it is equally likely that they represent Livy’s assumptions about the nature of warfare and spoils in this period.28 At best, we should be deeply sceptical, and, while there may be some value in exploring the way these formulas are deployed over time, it is unclear if they are intended to offer a complete or properly indicative view of the spoils acquired. Specific accounts of early spoils which cannot be easily categorized as generic or formulaic are rare, and generally fall into one of six categories: territorial gains, the dedication of spoils in particular rituals, the use of spoils in building projects, regulations, exceptional distributions, and debates over distributions. All six of these types are problematic, although for different reasons. First, despite the seeming assumption by the authors of our extant sources that most Roman warfare was ultimately focused on territorial expansion, the specific references to this in the regal period and early Republic are actually quite limited. Livy reports that all of Rome’s reges expanded Roman territory in some way, and while Numa 26

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As Ogilvie noted (1965, 137), when referring to Livy’s description of the reign of Ancus Marcius, terms like praeda potens (‘his power enhanced by the quantity of spoils’) were not meant to be taken literally. Indeed, as Ogilvie notes when referring to Liv. 2.25.5, captum praedae datum, this sort of language is likely “military slang” (see also Kennedy 1959, 242). A comparable phrase in Dionysius would be “carrying with him the spoils of those who had been slain in battle and the choicest part of the spoils as an offering to the gods” (ἄγων σκῦλά τε ἀπὸ τῶν πεπτωκότων κατὰ τὴν μάχην καὶ ἀκροθίνια λαφύρων θεοῖς, Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 2.34.1). Armstrong (2016a) 74–128.

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(Liv. 1.26.6) and Servius Tullius (Liv. 1.45.1) famously did this peacefully, the others did so through warfare. Romulus was the initiator of Rome’s empire (Liv. 1.15 for the capture of territory from Veii), under Ancus Marcius “the Maesian Forest was taken from the Veientes, extending Rome’s dominion clear to the sea” (Liv,. 1.33), Tullus Hostilius supposedly conquered Alba Longa (Liv. 1.25.13), and the Tarquins were also expansionist-minded (Liv. 1.56) and famously incorporated Gabii (Liv. 1.55).29 How­ever, none of these acquisitions – if they did indeed occur – seem to have made a lasting impact or survived into the Republic,30 and – as noted above – it has long been argued that Rome’s regal territorial empire is a fiction for one reason or another.31 It is also noteworthy that there is almost no recorded territorial expansion through warfare during most of the fifth century BCE. While Rome engaged in almost annual warfare during this period, there are only three instances where land seems to have been acquired after warfare before the 420s BCE – at Velitrae in 494, in a treaty with the Hernici in 486, and at Antium 467 – and, interestingly, none of these acquisitions are described as spoils.32 At Velitrae and at Antium, we merely have the establishment of colonies in the years following successful warfare, although there is no explicit link between the two actions – warfare and colonization – in the narrative. The treaty with the Hernici, according to Livy, resulted in the acquisition of an astounding two thirds of their territory by Rome, as land “held by individuals, although it belonged to the state” or effectively ager publicus.33 However, Dionysius suggests that the treaty was similar to the one signed with the Latins (the foedus Cassianum), which did not involve the forfeiture of land and indeed placed the Romans and Latins on equal terms.34 Additionally, it is clear from regular campaigns against the same opponents throughout the fifth century that ‘victory’ against, and even ‘conquest’ of, communities did

29

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31 32 33 34

Regal colonies: Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 1.9.2, 2.24.44, 2.35.7, 2.36.2, 2.53.4, 2.54.1, 4.63.1, 6.55.1; Liv. 1.11.4, 1.27.9, 1.56.3; Cic. Rep. 2.3.5; Plut. Rom. 23.6, 24.3; Cor. 28.2; Strab. 5.2.7; Vir. Ill. 5. Regal distributions of land: Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom 2.7.4, 2.28.3, 2.62.4, 3.1.5, 4.10.3, 4.13.1, 4.27.6; Cic. Rep. 2.14.26, 2.18.33. See Roselaar (2010) 20–31 for discussion. This is not to say that evidence of them did not exist or survive. The acquisition of Gabii supposedly left some evidence, with a treaty still extant in the Augustan period on a shield covered in cowhide in the temple of Semo Sancus (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.58.4) and on coins of two Antistii (FOEDUS P. R. CUM GABINIS [RIC2 1, 68 no. 363 and 73 no. 411]). However, as noted above with other early Roman ‘acquisitions’, it is difficult to know what this meant in real terms at the time. For recent discussion see particularly Smith (2017). See Walter (2016) contra, on the more general reliability of the early narrative. Crustumerium and the tribus Crustumina offers another possible example, although the timeline is not straightforward (see above and Taylor (2013) 35–47). Liv. 41.2: … publicum possideri a privatis criminabatur. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 8.69.2. That being noted, the loss of two thirds of the land reported in Livy, which matches that taken from Privernum in 340 BCE (Liv. 8.1.3), hints that he viewed this as land taken in war.

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not involve occupation, nor was it expected to end hostilities.35 Rome regularly fought against communities it had defeated recently, making it clear that the gains were usually short term. It is only when we get to the period c. 400, as will be discussed later in this chapter, that this changes. In this period, we have several instances where land was taken explicitly as spoils – at Fidenae and Labici in the final decades of the fifth century, and in regard to Veii – and where Roman influence seems to have been maintained. Second, specific spoils are also discussed in reference to rituals. For instance, both Romulus and Aulus Cornelius Cossus famously dedicated arms and armour as part of the ritual associated with the spolia opima.36 We also have instances like Tarquinius Priscus’ sacrifice of a pile of captured arms in fulfilment of a vow to Vulcan (Liv. 1.37). One could also include the duel by T. Manlius Torquatus against a Gaul in 361 BCE in this category, where he won the name Torquatus.37 However, while highly detailed and indicative of a particular type of spoils – in this case captured arms and armour – these examples are offered as exceptions and clearly represent only part of the acquired spoils and should at best be seen as indicative. Arms and armour were likely acquired as part of the spoils of war, but it is uncertain how large a part, and whether their importance was strictly ritual (dedication) and social (display) or also economic.38 We also have many accounts of spoils associated with early triumphs  – with some of them quite specific. Dionysius (2.54.2) records that Romulus dedicated a chariot with four horses in bronze to Vulcan out of the spoils from his triumph after defeating the Camerini. Alternatively, in the early fifth century, the dictator Aulus Postumius Albus Regillensis supposedly triumphed with 5,500 prisoners taken in the battle and spent 40 talents on games and sacrifices.39 In 461 BCE, the consul Lucius Lucretius Tricipitinus displayed spoils in the Campus Martius “where it lay for three days, that every man might identify and carry off what belonged to him”.40 In the fourth century, Marcus Valerius Corvus supposedly triumphed with 4,000 captives in chains;41 Livy offers a detailed discussion of the debate over spoils – which included both spoils (praeda) and prisoners (captivi), as well as property sought by the fetiales in accordance with a treaty (quaeque res per fetiales ex foedere repetitae essent secundum ius fasque restituerentur) – before the triumph 35 36 37 38

See Armstrong (2016a) 215–232 for discussion. Romulus: Plut. Rom. 10.6–7. Cossus: Liv. 4.20; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 12.5. Liv. 6.42.5–6; Gell. NA 9.13.4–20; etc. It should be noted that, even without the ritual or economic elements, acquired arms and armour were important markers of status. 39 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 6.17. 40 Liv. 3.10.1. As Ogilvie (1965) ad loc., notes, the reason for the placement on the Campus Martius was likely due to his continuing to hold imperium and so not being able to enter the city. Liv. 3.8 specifies that part of the spoils consisted of looted Roman property, so the nature of the spoils may relate to what the Volsci and Aequi were raiding for and not what the Romans sought. Indeed, the suggestion that “every man might identify and carry off what belonged to him” almost certainly related to the reclamation of stolen property and not the distribution of new spoils. 41 Liv. 7.27.

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of the dictator A. Cornelius Cossus in 322 BCE,42 etc.43 However, again, it is difficult to know whether these isolated anecdotes are either accurate or representative. Third, we have the use of spoils to construct buildings, the particulars of which are often given in quite specific detail. The most famous example of this is the use of spoils from a campaign against the Sabines by Tarquinius Priscus in order to initiate the construction of the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Dionysius notes that the elder Tarquin: … permitted the soldiers to carry off the women and children and such others as allowed themselves to be made prisoners, together with a multitude of slaves not easy to be numbered; and he also gave them leave to carry away all the plunder of the city that they found both inside the walls and in the country. As to the silver and gold that was found there, he ordered it all to be brought to one place, and having reserved a tenth part of it to build a temple, he distributed the rest among the soldiers. The quantity of silver and gold taken upon this occasion was so considerable that every one of the soldiers received for his share five minae of silver, and the tenth part reserved for the gods amounted to no less than four hundred talents.44

Dionysius reports that this work was continued by Tarquinius Superbus, who used a tenth of the spoils taken from Suessa Pometia to complete the temple.45 Livy generally supports this narrative, although he offers different details. While Dionysius gives specific figures for the spoils acquired by Tarquinius Priscus, Livy merely notes that: “He built up with masonry a level space on the Capitol as a site for the temple of Jupiter which he had vowed during the Sabine war, and the magnitude of the work revealed his prophetic anticipation of the future greatness of the place.”46 However, while Dionysius offers no details for the spoils dedicated by Tarquinius Superbus, Livy devotes two passages to the subject. In his summary of the sack of Suessa Pometia, he notes: “There, having sold off the spoils and raised forty talents of silver, he conceived the project of a temple of Jupiter so magnificent that it should be worthy of the king of gods and men, the Roman empire, and the majesty of the site itself. The money from

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Liv. 8.39. There are a couple of other interesting cases in the early fourth century BCE as well: following the sack of Veii, a golden bowl was supposedly deposited in the treasury house of Massalia at Delphi (Diod. Sic. 14.93.3–5; Plut. Cam. 8; Liv. 5.25.10, 5.28.1–6; App. Ital. 8.3); in 380 BCE, the dictator T. Quinctius Cincinnatus took the statue of Iuppiter Imperator from Praeneste, which was then put up in the cella of Minerva (Liv. 6.29.8, Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 14.5.1; Diod. Sic. 15.47.8; Eutrop. 2.2; Oros. 3.8.5), etc. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.50.4–5. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.59.1. Liv. 1.38.7.

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the captured city he put aside to build this temple.”47 Then, in a later passage, he offers yet more discussion: This made the king all the more ready to spend money on the work. Hence the Pometian spoils, which had been destined to carry the building up to the roof, barely sufficed for the foundations. This disposes me to believe the statement of Fabius (who is, besides, the earlier writer) that the spoils were only forty talents, rather than Piso’s, who writes that forty thousand pounds of silver were put aside for this work. So great a sum of money could not be expected from the spoils of a single city of that time, and there is no building, even among those of our own day, for the foundations of which it would not be more than enough.48

This discussion represents the most detailed description of the dedication of spoils for a temple in the regal and early republican periods, although it is not the only one. Famously, the dictator Aulus Postumius Albus Regillensis, after spending 40 talents on games and sacrifices, also dedicated temples to Ceres, Liber, and Libera.49 Camillus also supposedly dedicated a tenth of the spoils from Veii to the gods and the establishment of temples – although this evidently did not happen, and Livy reports that rich matronae had to step in.50 Although offering detailed amounts, and even specific weights, these references to the use of spoils are also worryingly formulaic.51 Almost all vowed dedications seem to represent either a tenth of the spoils acquired, or some variation on 40 or 400 talents. These are both common formulas in the ancient Mediterranean and possibly represent later interpretations. Indeed, in the Greek world, the dekate (lit. “one tenth”) was the conventional amount of spoils one would usually dedicate to the gods, and so a well-established standard by the time Rome’s first historians began to write.52 It is also worrying that the exact amount of silver used seems to be either 40 or 400 talents. These are the figures offered for Tarquinius Priscus, Tarquinius Superbus, and Postumius, and there are later resonances as well, as C. Fabricius returned with 400 talents after victories in the 280s.53 As Laroche argued, the use of these figures may have more to do with a cultural preference for the number 40 than the actual amount acquired.54 Given these issues with the figures, it is difficult to know what to make of these references. On the one hand, they may have represented common narrative devices, while

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Liv. 1.53.3. Liv. 1.55.9. Plutarch (Publ. 15.3) follows Piso in saying: “It is said that Tarquin expended upon its foundations forty thousand pounds of silver”. 49 Liv. 6.17.2. 50 Plutarch Cam. 7.5; Liv. 5.23, 5.25. 51 See Ogilvie (1965) ad loc. 52 Xen. Hell. 1.7.10; 3.5.5. 53 Val. Max. 1.8.6; Plin. HN 34.6; Liv. Per. 12; etc. Roman soldiers supposedly plundered 400 talents worth of items in the sack of Jerusalem (BJ 2.50). 54 Laroche (1986) 35.

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on the other, they may have represented typical amounts with both traditional and sacred connotations. Either way, however, they seem to be indicative of particular practice – the dedication of a specific amount of spoils to the gods. The final three categories are perhaps best discussed together, given how they often overlap. These include regulations concerning spoils, debates or disagreements concerning spoils, and irregular or exceptional distributions of spoils. All of these are rare in the early period and are exclusively from the Republican period. Intriguingly, Rome’s reges, and even the tyrannical Tarquinius Superbus, are universally lauded for their approach to spoils. Although their motivations are often suspect, the reges are always presented as being generous and fair with their distributions. It is only with Rome’s Republican magistrates that the distribution of spoils becomes an issue, although it is uncertain whether this is a result of the changing (annalistic) nature of the narrative, the general increase in debate, discussion, and competition present in the history for this period, or a true change in practice. Beginning with records of laws and regulations, almost all of our mentions come from our Greek sources. For instance, Dionysius of Halicarnassus discusses the customs regarding acquisition of slaves through warfare (4.24.1) and the foedus Cassianum (6.95), which granted Latins and Romans equal spoils in shared wars. In 7.63, in a speech attributed to M. Decius during the trial of Coriolanus, Dionysius (7.63.2) notes “You all know, of course, that the law ordains that all the spoils we are able to take from the enemy by our valour shall belong to the public and that not only no private citizen has the disposition of them, but not even the general of our forces himself; but the quaestor, taking them over, sells them and turns the proceeds over to the public treasury.”55 In his narrative for the year 484 BCE, Dionysius (8.77) records that the consul Q. Fabius “caused a vote to be passed that they should be given also the third part of the spoils of war on the occasion of any joint campaign. Again, in the case of the Hernicans, who, having been subdued in war, ought to have been content not to be punished by the loss of some part of their territory, he had made them friends instead of subjects, and citizens instead of tributaries, and had ordered that they should receive the second third of any land and spoils that the Romans might acquire from any source”. Livy (2.43) offers a slightly different, and more cryptic, version, merely noting that Q. Fabius, along with the Senate, supposedly ‘defrauded’ his soldiers of their rightful spoils from campaigns against the Aequi and Volsci (militem praeda fraudauere) by putting the spoils in the treasury. The only clear mention of a law regarding spoils from Livy’s first decade comes in his entry for 322 BCE (8.39) where he notes “the praetors were compelled to refer his case to the council, which decreed that Papius Brutulus should be surrendered to the Romans, and that all the Roman spoils and all the prisoners should be sent with him to Rome; and further, that all the property which the fetiales

55

This is also supported by Plutarch’s account (Cor. 20).

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had sought to recover under the provisions of the treaty should be restored in compliance with law and with religion”.56 The fact that this represents the return of captured spoils certainly complicates the matter, but it still seems to indicate the intersection of law and spoils. There are also several debates over spoils recorded in our sources. The first is found in Dionysius (6.30), where Appius Claudius accused his consular colleague Servilius of not repaying the treasury after war in 495 BCE, as part of a debate over his requested triumph. In 494 BCE, the dictator Marcus Valerius is recorded to have stated in a speech (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 6.44) that he had wished to give spoils from a campaign against the Volsci to the plebeians, but was denied by the Senate. There is also the debate over spoils contained in the trial of Coriolanus, touched on above (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 7.63; Liv. 2.33–35; Plut. Cor. 20), where both Dionysius and Plutarch record that Coriolanus was criticized for not turning over spoils to the treasury. It is difficult, however, to trust any of these debates. Given their highly narrative aspect, the likely absence of an aerarium during this period, and the role of the so-called ‘Struggle of the Orders’, it is probable that all of these contain a large element of anachronistic fabrication.57 Nevertheless, the period they are clustered in, c. 490, coincides roughly with both the foedus Cassianum and the treaty with the Hernici, which is suggestive. There may have been a debate about the approach to spoils in this period, somehow preserved in the tradition, although it is interesting that it is not seen in Livy’s account. There is then a second cluster of debates found in the narrative around the siege and sack of Veii. This includes the initial debate over what was to be done with the spoils (praeda). Publius Licinius argued that the spoils should go to anyone who wanted to share in the victory, while Appius Claudius argued that the spoils should be deposited in the treasury.58 The dictator Camillus then seems to have gone for a third option and allowed the army to sack the city and keep the spoils, although Livy suggests that the civilian population could have partaken in this as well.59 There was then a subsequent debate over what to do with the land. The tribune T. Sicinius proposed that a large portion of the population of Rome be moved to Veii (Liv. 5.24–25; Plut. Cam. 7.2–4),

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See also Liv. 9.1: “The goods of the enemy which we had taken as spoils, and regarded as our own by the laws of war, we restored to them.” 57 As there was no state income before the institution of the tributum, there was presumably no state treasury or aerarium either. Indeed, even after the creation of the tributum, it is possible that for much of the Republic the aerarium typically functioned in a more ‘distributed’ or devolved fashion – as opposed to from a central location – through the tribes and bodies of the tribuni aerarii. See Nicolet (1976b) 46–55, and more recently VanDerPuy (2020) and Tan (2020) for discussion relating to the fourth century. 58 Liv. 5.20. 59 Plut. Cam. 7.4. Liv. 5.46.4 suggests that “volunteers were also pouring in from Latium, that they might share in the spoils” (sed etiam ex Latio uoluntariis confluentibus ut in parte praedae essent).

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although this was vetoed.60 In 393 BCE, the land was distributed by the Senate in viritane distributions of seven iugera.61 It was later reorganized into tribes following the Gallic sack a few years later.62 As noted above, records of irregularities in the distribution of spoils are not seen in the regal period, and only appear in the Republic – although the reason for this is uncertain. These exceptional distributions take a range of forms. For instance, there is the previously discussed instance in 484 BCE, where Livy (2.43) claims Q. Fabius ‘defrauded’ his soldiers of their rightful spoils from campaigns against the Aequi and Volsci (militem praeda fraudauere). In 478 BCE, Dionysius (9.15) records that, after a campaign against Veii, C. Fabius “neither turned over any part of the spoils to the treasury nor distributed any to the soldiers, but presented all the cattle, the beasts of burden, the yokes of oxen, the iron, and the other implements of husbandry to the patrols of the country”. This is presented as irregular, and deserving of mention, although it does not seem to have sparked unrest or debate. For 476 BCE, Livy (2.53) records that an army made up of the Latins and Hernici, without the Romans, defeated the Aequi and Volsci and won immense spoils (ingenti praeda). The central point of this passage is the absence of the Romans, not of spoils, although it is interesting that they are mentioned. In 469 BCE, Dionysius (9.56) records that the consul Numicius supposedly captured 22 warships from Antium as part of the spoils, although what happened to these is not reported.63 There is then a second cluster of irregularities in the late fifth century. For the year 414 BCE, Livy (4.49) records that P. Postumius, “though he had proclaimed at the time of the attack that the spoils should belong to the soldiers, when he had taken the town, he broke his promise. This, I am inclined to believe, was the cause of the army’s resentment, rather than the fact that in a recently-plundered city inhabited by new settlers, there were fewer spoils than the tribune had predicted.” Postumius instead sent the spoils to the treasury, but was then killed by his mutinous soldiers.64 After the capture of Ferentinum in 413 BCE there were also fewer spoils than expected (Liv. 4.51.7–8).65 In 410 BCE, after the capture of Carventum, Livy notes that “there was a considerable accumulation of spoils from this constant raiding, because everything had been heaped up there for safety. All this the consul ordered the quaestors to sell at auction and place the proceeds in the public treasury, giving out word that the army 60 61 62 63 64 65

It should be noted that any debate in Livy between a Sicinius and a Claudius should be taken with a very large pinch of salt, given how members of these families are typically presented. Liv. 5.30.8; cf. Diod. Sic. 14.102.4. See Roselaar (2010) 55, for discussion. Liv. 6.5. An interesting aberration, given how the Romans were typically obsessed with such things. Liv. 4.49–50; Val. Max. 9.8.3; Flor. 1.17.7; Zon. 7.20; Diod. Sic. 13.42.6. Interestingly, the reverse occurred at Carventum in 410 BCE where there “was a considerable accumulation of spoils from this constant raiding, because everything had been heaped up there for safety” (Liv. 4.53.10).

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should share in the plunder only when the men had not refused to serve” (Liv. 4.53.10). In 406, “Fabius led his troops to Anxur, the principal object of their attack, and laid siege to it, without doing any pillaging” (Liv. 4.59.3) and following the sack “Fabius made his soldiers leave the rest of the spoils until his colleagues could come up, saying that their armies had helped to capture Anxur by diverting the rest of the Volsci from the defence of that place” (Liv. 4.59.8–9).66 In 396 BCE, Camillus “got possession of enormous spoils, the chief part of which was made over to the quaestor, and no great quantity given to the soldiers” (Liv. 5.19.8).67 This set of notices concludes with the distribution of spoils after the sack of Veii, where the distribution of spoils is debated. Livy reports (6.2.12) that the dictator gave the spoils (praeda) to the soldiers, while (6.4.6) the tribunes decided the spoils should go the state (publicari), but ultimately did not take them away from the soldiers who already possessed it. Many of these irregularities are problematic because of their moralizing tone. The appropriate distribution of spoils was an important part of being a Roman general.68 Thus, one must be careful in reading too much into any narratives where the core dynamic is the appropriate relationship between general and army. In the case of Postumius, the dictator’s use of spoils reinforces Livy’s early claim that he was “wrongheaded” (pravae mentis homini). In the following passage, Livy uses the term ‘fraud’ (praedaene interceptorem fraudatoremque), recalling his earlier comments on Q. Fabius in 484 BCE, and Dionysius comments on C. Fabius in 478 BCE.69 The misuse of spoils by the Fabii, being indicative of a moral failing, may be linked to their subsequent defeat at the Cremera River in 476 BCE. The misuse of spoils by Postumius is also, quite clearly, the precursor to his death at the hands of his army. Indeed, given that soldiers traditionally had rights over any portable wealth they came across during a victory (Dig. 41.1.5.7), with larger chattels, livestock, and slaves going to the general, withholding spoils would have been significant.70 Taken on its own, and as noted above, it can easily be read as affirmation of Postumius’ bad character. But while Livy (4.49.9–10) clearly emphasizes his preference for the interpretation that Postumius’ character is to blame for the conflict, he also notes the tradition that there was less portable wealth than expected (minus praedicatione tribuni praedae fuerit).

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See Massa-Pairault (1986) 40, for the argument that this was actually the wealth which funded the first year of the stipendium. 67 It is perhaps noteworthy that Livy suggests the plebeians had recently gained access to the quaestorship, with the first being elected to the office in 409 BCE (Liv. 4.54), although they had supposedly been eligible since 421 BCE (Liv. 4.43). 68 Shatzman (1972) 177–205. 69 Other instances of this behaviour (peculatus) can be seen with the cases of M. Acilius Glabrio and Q. Servilius Caepio. See also Vogel’s entry in the RE s. v. praeda. 70 Ogilvie (1965) 346–347. See also Aberson (1994).

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IV Analyzing the Anomalies In the references to spoils given above, there seem to be two clusters of anomalies, each with their own flavour.71 However, the issues involved in both clusters seem to relate to the same core questions: who was entitled to spoils, who controlled them, and what was the role of the community/state in deciding these issues. Whether our sources are accurate or not, the narrative certainly seems to feature a tension over these issues in these periods, which requires some explanation. IV.a 495 to 475 BCE In the early decades of the fifth century BCE, and particularly between c. 495 BCE and c. 475 BCE, there is a series of references to debates and irregularities over spoils which do not conform to the usual archetypes. While some of them, for instance the trial of Coriolanus, the accusations by Appius Claudius against Servilius, and the critiques of the Fabii, may contain some archetypical aspects – literary tropes deployed in particular situations and around particular Roman families – they are difficult to explain away in this fashion. However, although varying significantly in tone and context, it is intriguing how many of them relate to the relationship between Romans and non-Romans with regards to spoils. This seems to be a central tension. In 493 BCE, our sources recorded that the Romans and Latins agreed to the foedus Cassianum, which – amongst other things – regulated spoils acquired in warfare. In 486 BCE, the Romans supposedly agreed to a similar treaty with the Hernici. In 484 BCE, Q. Fabius led an army against the Aequi and Volsci and supposedly defrauded his soldiers of spoils. It is unknown whether his force was made up solely of Romans or included allies, and who exactly was defrauded, although fair distribution of spoils was clearly important. In 478 BCE, C. Fabius supposedly did not give spoils to his soldiers or to the state, but to “patrols of the country” (τοῖς περιπόλοις τῆς χώρας).72 Again, it is uncertain which types of soldiers were not rewarded, or indeed who would have made up the “patrols” who were given the spoils – although presumably, given the context, they were members of his own gens. In 476 BCE, an army of Latins and Hernici defeated the Aequi and Volsci and won immense spoils – an event which was recorded, seemingly, as it specifically did not include the Romans.73 71 72 73

Interestingly, and perhaps not coincidentally, these two clusters also match identified clusters of plebeian land requests, see Roselaar (2010) 28. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 9.15.5. One could also, perhaps, add Strabo’s comment on the men of Caere’s supposed victory over the Gauls of Brennus, contrasting their martial value – and its rewards – to what the Romans had done (“they defeated in war those Galatae who had captured Rome, having attacked them when they were in the country of the Sabini on their way back, and also took away as spoils from the Galatae, against their will, what the Romans had willingly given them”, Strabo 5.2.3).

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Thus, there seems to be a tension over the positions of Rome, and Roman citizens, and non-citizens when it comes to spoils.74 Contemporaneous with these events, there is of course another, more obvious tension present in the literature – the beginning of the ‘Struggle of the Orders’. In 494 BCE, we have the first secessio plebis, and between 495 BCE and 473 BCE Rome supposedly experienced eight boycotts of the levy by the plebeians, often over issues of debt and wealth.75 While these military boycotts are never actually linked with the concurrent discussions on spoils, they are clearly relating to the same central issues – wealth, who benefited from warfare, and how did being ‘Roman’ impact this? In the passages above, we seem to encounter tensions over spoils between both the Romans and their allies, and between Roman gentes (esp. the Fabii) and the wider Roman populus. Indeed, even the more dramatic and seemingly anachronistic references to spoils – as with the trial of Coriolanus – carry this undercurrent. In the wider narrative of the trial, the mention of spoils – although detailed – seems slightly tangential. It is just one of several charges given, and not the one he was supposedly convicted of, although, according to Plutarch (Cor. 20.4), it was the one which “wounded him the most”. However, if understood as part of a wider discussion of who benefited from warfare, and particularly the importance of being ‘Roman’ in this context, it is more relevant. The same can be said for the Fabian references, which may be part of a wider anti-Fabian narrative leading up to the disaster at the Cremera River, although it is also possible that they reflect a memory of variations in distributions between different parts of the army. But, taken as a whole, we can plausibly see the beginnings of a push – at least in the literature – for greater community control over the proceeds of war. And given that Rome’s authors seem to have assumed a reasonably static view of spoils and control throughout Rome’s long history, this tension is noteworthy. IV.b 420 to 390 BCE The second cluster of anomalies with regards to spoils occurs in the late fifth and early fourth centuries, and is far more noticeable – indeed, it has been commented on before.76 Here, we have a series of references to disputes over spoils, increased interest in land as a spoil of war, and increased community engagement with spoils. This is 74

75 76

Looking for an end point for this tension, Livy records that in 349 BCE, the Latins refused to provide troops (Liv. 7.25.5–6). Then, in 348, the second treaty with Carthage contained a clause on the possession of spoils relating to Latin cities not included in the first treaty (Plb. 3.24). This hints that by 348 BCE the Romans had rethought how spoils operated and had (perhaps recently?) changed the nature of moveable spoils with relation to the Latins. Many thanks to James Tan for suggesting this possibility. See Armstrong (2008) 47–66, for discussion. Most notably see Ogilvie (1965) ad loc. See also Armstrong (2016a); Crooks (2019).

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most obviously encapsulated in the tradition and debates associated with the sack of Veii discussed above, but is visible elsewhere as well: in the aftermath of the capture of Bolae and Labici in the 410s, after the victory over Capena in 395 BCE, and after the war against the Faliscans in 394 BCE. The Roman approach to spoils takes centre stage in much of the narrative for this period, both driving the action and forming the backdrop of many key events.77 What has been missed to date, however, is how this cluster of references to spoils, as well as their focus, aligns with the wider context of Rome’s changing social, political, and military landscape. Specifically, at the same time that we have increased tension over spoils evident in the narrative, we also have the increased acquisition of ager publicus and Roman territorial expansion following warfare, as well as the advent of both tributum and stipendium. Although not directly connected with spoils in the narrative, they arguably reinforce the plausibility of these debates relating to an actual, historical shift in approach and should also have an impact on the way in which these issues are perceived. Perhaps the most obvious connection between the debates over spoils and the wider narrative in the period from c. 420 to 390 BCE relates to the Roman approach to the land of defeated communities. As Roselaar has convincingly argued, and as noted above, between 509 and 420 BCE there were only a few reported confiscations of land – and all are contested.78 For much of the fifth century BCE, Rome simply did not seem to acquire land through warfare.79 However, from the 410s BCE onward, Rome seems to have become ever more territorially acquisitive. First, there was the capture and viritane distribution of land at Labici in 418 BCE, the proposed distribution of land at Bolae in 415 BCE, the first major acquisition of ager publicus at Veii in 396 BCE, followed by further acquisitions at Capena and in Faliscan territory in the 390s. Although the Roman approach to land after a successful campaign continued to vary throughout the fourth century BCE – with viritane distributions, the creation of ager publicus, and eventually outright incorporation via tribes all occurring at various points – the one constant was that, by this period, land was often part of the settlement. That this connection between land and warfare only emerges c. 400 BCE is intriguing, as it lags quite far behind the date when land seems to have emerged as a valued commodity in economic terms.80 If Roman armies were simply out to acquire ‘wealth’, one would have anticipated that land would have been sought after as a spoil of war 77 78 79 80

As Ogilvie (1965, ad loc.), notes, Livy paints much of the narrative in terms of ‘good’ and ‘evil’, with spoils at the crux. In addition to those noted above, in 446, a dispute supposedly arose between Aricia and Ardea over land. These two cities asked Rome to adjudicate, but Rome supposedly decided to take the land for itself: Liv. 3.71.7; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 11.52.2–3. Roselaar (2010) 30–31. As Terrenato (2019) has argued, the seeming delay in the pursuit of land in warfare – despite its growing economic value – was not limited to Rome, but is arguably indicative of the entire western Mediterranean.

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from at least the late sixth century BCE. During the sixth century BCE, Latium seems to have experienced a ‘mini agricultural revolution’, with new grains and agricultural techniques being deployed.81 Indeed, during the course of the fifth century, although some urban centres may have experienced less building than in the previous century, leading to the narrative of decline, there is a growing corpus of evidence suggesting increased investment and agricultural development of the hinterland.82 As a result, one might expect land to have been sought after during this period. However, according to the literature at least, land only seems to have become a regular spoil of war towards the end of the fifth century, and when it does, it is generally under the aegis of the community – as ager publicus, tribes, viritane distributions or settlement in Roman citizen colonies.83 Thus, the apparent shift in the nature of spoils may be authentic, as it was likely connected with the gradual rise of an increasingly cohesive state at Rome, which has been increasingly argued for in this period from a much wider set of evidence.84 Rome’s evolving society and developing state structures in the early fourth century BCE, and particularly the possible emergence of Gelzer’s stable ‘nobility’ in the Senate, offered an increasingly secure set of relationships and mechanisms to control land, outside of the traditional, and private, family, and gentilicial systems.85 While previously the res publica seemed to have represented a simple power-sharing arrangement, Rome’s emerging apparatus and bureaucracy allowed aristocratic families to properly work together for mutual gain in a range of areas – including, most notably, warfare. Indeed, this shift can also be closely aligned to changes in Rome’s military magistrates, with the movement from praetors, to consular tribunes, to consuls after 367 BCE.86 V Tributum, Stipendium, and the Fourth Century BCE This tension in the narrative over control of spoils c. 400 BCE coincides with another key development in Roman warfare  – the introduction of stipendium and tributum. Exploring the full implications of this development would both push this study down in the middle and late fourth century BCE and require far more words than the current 81 82 83

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Smith (1996) 114–122. See Motta (2002); Fulminante (2014) esp. 222–229. The narrative of urban decline and the lack of building projects in this period is also currently being challenged – see above fn. 16. There is the possibility that Rome’s gentes were privately acquiring land through warfare for their own personal use/control and that it was only the more communal (and communally recorded) instances of warfare which did not result in the capture of land. Certainly, gentes were still colonizing independently until quite late – see Terrenato (2014) for examples. Alternatively, it is possible that land was being acquired through community warfare, but its distribution did not run through, or was simply not recorded by, the state. See Armstrong (2016a; 2017a) and Drogula (2020) for bibliography and discussion. Gelzer (1969). See Armstrong (2016a); Drogula (2020).

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medium allows. Stipendium and tributum are complex and contentious topics, whose problems of interpretation are only overshadowed by their seeming importance for Roman warfare in the fourth century BCE.87 However, given that stipendium and tributum were both supposedly instituted before 390 BCE and may also serve to reinforce the suggested tension above, they are worth discussing briefly here. Although both stipendium and tributum are traditionally connected with the initiation of the great siege of Veii in modern scholarship, in his narrative Livy connects stipendium and tributum more directly to the capture of Anxur the previous year.88 It must be noted that it is unlikely that Livy knew the actual sequence of events or motivations behind the introduction of either tributum or stipendium. This information surely falls into the ‘contextual’ category, which was presumably based largely on Livy’s speculation. However, even so, it is interesting that he connects both with the aftermath of the sacking of Anxur. The first collection of tributum and paying of stipendium were not, according to Livy, conducted in preparation for a new conflict, but were part of the paying out of a large army (supposedly made up of three armies, led by the two consuls and a dictator) involved in the previous. They were, in Livy’s mind, connected with the fair distribution of spoils. It must be noted that the initial collection of tributum, and subsequent payment of stipendium, is somewhat confusing. The initial tributum was paid out, supposedly voluntarily, by members of the Senate.89 But why would the leading men of the state offer additional funds to the soldiers, who had previously not required this extra incentive? Superficially, this seems rather like a pay-out to a group of mercenaries – and indeed, this may not be far from the reality. Beginning in this time period, there was an increasing demand for Italic mercenaries within the Greek world, which may have been pulling young, able-bodied men south from central Italy to the armies of Magna Graecia.90 It is possible that the introduction of tributum and stipendium was a response to the threat to Rome’s manpower. Praeda was always available, whether to a militia, warband,

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Famously, see Nicolet (1976b). More recently, see Tan (2020; 2023) for detailed discussion and bibliography. Liv. 4.59.8–60.9. This paper accepts the traditional dating of tributum and stipendium for two reasons. First, because what matters in this specific context is not its historicity but its place within the narrative – i. e. that Livy understood it as relating to the wider narrative around the siege of Veii, which includes the siege of Anxur, and Rome’s relationship with spoils. Second, because the vast majority of arguments against the late fifth century date relate to the argued implausibility of the Roman state to have either stipendium or tributum without coined money (see Northwood 2008, 265–266 for references and evidence). However, following Tan (2020), Rome’s ability to manage a complex economy and substantial building projects (possibly even involving foreign labour, in the case of the ‘Servian Walls’, see Bernard, 2018a) without coinage hints that it is not a requirement for tributum or stipendium either. The passage in Livy is slightly problematic, as it mirrors a later episode in 210 BCE (Liv. 26.36), where the Senate and the equites again paid for military expenditures willingly – in this case a fleet. See Tagliamonte (1994) for discussion.

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or mercenary force. Stipendium, however, was an additional and guaranteed payment which may have served to secure the services of some of Latium’s warrior class for Rome. Another consideration, however, may have been that the tributum-stipendium system actually bolstered the corporate power of the Roman Senate, while capping the power of individual commanders. In the previous model, warfare was entirely funded and supported by the acquisition and distribution of spoils, typically in the form of portable praeda, the control of which was largely at the discretion of the victorious general. However, stipendium represented a separate and consistent payment from the state, which would have transformed the corporate body of the Senate into a consistent patron, alongside the annual commanders who distributed any acquired praeda. Thus, the initial collection of tributum and payment of stipendium, supposedly voluntarily by the Senate (and quickly thereafter the community), may have represented a ‘power move’ by the aristocracy of Rome to consolidate power in the corporate body of the Senate – something which aligns with the concurrent ‘closing of the patriciate’ at the end of the fifth century – and to maximize Rome’s available manpower.91 Indeed, the connection between stipendium, tributum and spoils goes much deeper, and connects to the fundamental economic basis for Roman warfare. As James Tan has recently argued, once the stipendium and tributum were introduced c. 400 BCE, they increasingly represented the core dynamic of the Roman military system. While spem praedae remained a factor, the stable payment of stipendium seems to have emerged as a far more important incentive. Indeed, there is a subtle shift in the presence and usage of praeda in Livy across this period. Praeda appears in roughly 13 passages in Book 1, largely in an uncomplicated and generic fashion – the main exception being the use of spoils by the Tarquins to fund the construction of the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. The term is used 14 times in Book 2, again in a largely generic sense to refer to successful armies. It is used 18 times in Book 3, almost entirely generically, with the only real exception being the reported display of spoils for three days by Lucius Lucretius Tricipitinus in 461 BCE. The term is used 16 times in Book 4, although here exceptions begin to appear more regularly. In Livy 4.29, we have the Hernici and Latins reclaiming captured spoils, in Livy 4.49–51 the lengthy debate on the spoils from Bolae, and in 4.53 some irregularities with the spoils from Carventum. Praedae are mentioned 18 times in Book 5, with four of these cases representing long discussions of the distribution of spoils from Veii and a further three forming part of the Gallic sack narrative.

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This is not to say that the tributum-stipendium system necessitated a new or complex state structure or bureaucracy. Again following Tan (2023), it is possible that Rome’s tributum-stipendium system was actually quite devolved, with hundreds of local elites acting as tribuni aerarii, collecting the tributum and distributing the stipendium utilizing pre-existing relationships. Thus, while the impetus and authorization for the system may have been at the level of the state/Senate, the mechanics may have been quite local.

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Beginning in the second pentad, however, the term praeda is less common. It is only mentioned in seven passages in Book 6, and the majority of them are irregular and indeed discussed above. In Livy 6.4 there is a tension over reclaiming spoils from the army of Camillus, in 6.14 there is a dispute over gold taken from the Gauls, while the mentions in 6.15 and 6.41 are both from speeches and so of dubious historicity. Pushing the analysis slightly later than the main focus of this chapter though, it is worth noting that praeda is mentioned ten times in Book 7, again in tricky contexts. In Livy 7.16 it appears in reference to a speech and triumph by Gnaeus Manlius, in 7.27 we again have spoils mentioned in reference to a triumph. Praedae are also mentioned only seven times in Book 8, four of which represent quite specific references to specific instances (Liv. 8.29; 8.36; 8.39; 8.40). It is only in Books 9 and 10, the era of the Samnite Wars, that spoils return to the same prominence they had in the first pentad (appearing in thirteen passages in Book 9 and fifteen in Book 10), although the meaning and importance of spoils seems to have changed by this period. Although praeda was still an important part of warfare in Livy’s narrative for this period, its acquisition and distribution were no longer automatic.92 Indeed, even in the references to spoils in Books 7 and 8, we can see a gradual shift in usage to the distribution of spoils being used as an explicit – and seemingly extra – incentive for action. Livy 7.16, which details the sack of Privernum, records C. Marcius exhorting his men by saying “‘I give you now for spoils the camp and city of our enemies, if you promise me that in the battle you will play the part of men, and be not more ready to plunder than to fight.’ They clamoured loudly for the signal and entered the battle with spirit, emboldened by no uncertain expectations. There in the forefront Sextus Tullius, who has been mentioned before, cried out, ‘Look, general, and see how your army keeps the promises it gave you!’ Then, laying down his javelin, he drew his sword and charged the foe.”93 We see a similar story in Livy 8.36, where “The dictator had increased the alacrity of his troops by proclaiming that the spoils should all be theirs, and private gain did as much as the public resentment to whet their zeal against the enemy.” By Books 9 and 10, Livy’s narrative consistently suggests that the distribution of spoils to soldiers was the result of a conscious decision by the general, and not guaranteed – a point emphasized by the two very different approaches taken in the triumphs of Cursor

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Livy seems to imply that not all warfare resulted in spoils in this period, noting (10.44.8) that by 294 BCE “one form of war alone remained, the storming of cities; by destroying which they would be able to enrich their troops with spoils”; and (10.45.14) “the Samnites had gathered their wealth together in a few cities.” This suggests that while capturing some cities did result in spoils, regular engagements may not have. Additionally, Liv. 10.46 implies tension between the triumphs and distributions of L. Papirius and Sp. Carvilius in 293 BCE, where one distributed spoils to his troops and the other did not. Indeed, if Livy’s account of the warfare in this period (e. g. 10.19, 10.26, 10.31, 10.34, etc.) is to be believed, much of the spoils may have been made up of prisoners – whose value was only realized after sales/transactions organized by and through the general. This episode must also be situated in the context of Marcius’ concerns over debt and plebeian poverty in the narrative.

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and Carvilius in 293 BCE.94 Thus, by the late fourth century, it seems that the expectation of the soldiers was uncertain with regards to spoils – it was no longer a given that they would share in the praeda. They could only depend on their stipendium, although that was evidently enough to incentivize them to engage in warfare – albeit alongside the more indistinct, yet vitally important, social, and political motivators.95 This movement to stipendium, funded by tributum, as a key motivator for Rome’s soldiers put immense pressure on this system. Indeed, as Tan has argued, Rome’s new focus on land – and particularly the integration of new citizens – can be considered a result of this. With every piece of land that the Romans acquired, they gained a new source of tributum. Thus, land acquired by the state, even if given to or held by citizens who had not fought in the war, could still help to fund war. The acquisition of land in this period can be seen as part of a new mechanism for the funding of warfare which put the community, and particularly the Senate, up alongside the general. VI Conclusions For much of early Roman history, spoils (esp. praedae) appear as a regular, if formulaic, part of the narrative for warfare. Usually conceived of as being portable – arms and armour, slaves, or livestock – the pursuit of praeda was an important part of Roman warfare. Collected by the military leader and distributed to his soldiers, this was a vital aspect of what it meant to be a good military leader throughout Roman history – but particularly in the regal and early Republican periods. However, within some of the more anomalous references to spoils in our literary evidence, some broad changes are arguably visible, particularly when placed against the backdrop of our evolving understanding of early Roman society. The central change took place with regard to how warfare was funded and how spoils were controlled. In the regal period and first years of the Republic, Roman warfare seems to have been funded and controlled directly by the commander – initially the rex, later the early praetores. While military duties were central to Rome’s early magistrates, warfare existed almost wholly outside the confines of the community – as, indeed, did a general’s imperium even in later periods.96 The military leader had wide-ranging powers in the field and could therefore acquire and distribute spoils largely as he pleased. In order to maintain control over his followers, he was expected 94 95

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Bernard (2018b) 12–13. This is an admittedly contentious point, as by the middle and late Republic (as argued by Taylor and Gauthier in this volume), stipendium seems to have been a relatively minor contribution. However, as seen by the ending of tributum in 167 BCE, it is clear that the fundamental basis of the system was different in this period. Thus, the importance of stipendium for individual soldiers in various periods of roman history need not be considered static. See Drogula (2007) for discussion.

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to reward them appropriately, although this existed as part of a more personal relationship of reciprocity and obligation. It was not about following laws, but being an appropriate patron – or, perhaps more accurately, pater familias or gentilicial leader. Although the soldiers were perhaps recruited through state structures, like the curiae, their loyalty while on campaign was not to the state but to the leader. In the first decades of the Republic, however, we begin to see a tension emerge. With Rome’s new Republican system, which featured a rotating set of magistrates commanding armies recruited from Rome’s populus, a greater emphasis on the nascent state quickly developed.97 Each year, a new general and clan leader led each of Rome’s armies. Soldiers may have fought for a particular commander, but their loyalty and military identity seems to have been increasingly linked to the more stable community structures which underpinned the system. Although the core dynamic in the field likely remained quite personal, and indeed perhaps gentilicial, this was no longer uncontested. Additionally, there is increased evidence for community-based treaties regulating spoils, which began to impinge on what had previously been an entirely personal set of considerations. During this period, the nature of spoils did not seem to change – they remained largely portable – but their relationship to the community was evolving. Finally, during the late fifth century BCE, we see a further change in this relationship. While the commander still seems to have retained his control over praeda, this becomes far less central to Rome’s military system due to the introduction of stipendium, funded by the new tributum. The reasons for the creation of stipendium and tributum are unclear, although it is likely that they were also linked to greater state control over warfare and the wealth which related to it. So, although not conclusive by any stretch, there are hints in the evidence of a gradual shift in the nature and ownership of spoils during the fifth century BCE. Although this shift does not align particularly well with the overt narrative offered by Livy and Dionysius for the nature of Roman warfare, or indeed our evidence for the nature of the central Italian economy, it does seem to support some of the recent reinterpretations of the evolving nature of the Roman state, whereby a more decentralized collection of elite families gradually unified under the banner of Rome in the late fifth and early fourth centuries BCE.98 Within this paradigm, spoils aligned with the interests and objectives of those controlling the overarching military system – initially the rex, then the individual military leaders of Rome’s diverse gentes, and later the collected senatorial elite – and are thus a useful piece of this puzzle. Jeremy Armstrong University of Auckland [email protected] 97 98

Terrenato (2011); Armstrong (2016a) 131–136. See particularly Terrenato (2019) for a recent and developed model.

The Art of Acquisition Land Distribution as Spoil and Its Impact on Agriculture in the Fourth to Early Third Centuries BCE Peter VanDerPuy I Introduction This paper examines land distribution as a form of spoil and the effect that repeated rounds of land distribution may have had upon the nature of the Roman community in the early republican period. The era of the fourth- to early third-centuries BCE has been seen as a time of successful consolidation for the Roman community. On one hand, an external process of continuous territorial expansion led to various forms of land distribution which in turn helped to create, and theoretically sustain, a sizable body of individual citizen-farmer-soldiers. And, at first glance, it might be taken for granted that land distribution was a straightforward and unproblematic solution to the problem of land hunger in the Roman community. On the other hand, the internal consolidation of Rome’s political leadership, the new patricio-plebeian meritocracy, has been well-documented, and this consolidation seems to have yielded an oligarchy defined by an ethos in which the leading of constant warfare was central, almost obsessive.1 What is less clear, however, is just how the average Roman citizen and farmer possibly fared during this period on a rather small land allotment whose outputs of energy, such as grain and manpower, also represented key components in the production of future warfare for the emergent Roman military machine. Against the backdrop of such a question this chapter is somewhat theoretical and attempts to characterize the nature of the Roman state and its leadership in this period in relation to one of the chief solutions it found for solving the problems of the masses in this period: an ever-increasing scope of warfare, territorial acquisition, followed by 1

On the consolidation and war-making ethos of the patricio-plebeian aristocracy, see Hölkeskamp (1987; 1993); Rosenstein (1990); Beck (2005a). Harris (1979) is classic, though his characterization of the Roman elite’s belligerence and interest in war-making as almost pathological is somewhat overstated; see North (1981) and Eckstein (2006) for critiques of Harris.

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land distribution as a form of spoliation.2 As a result of the conceptual nature of this chapter, there is also a certain amount of modernizing language used here, as a way to think about the nature of the Roman state. Overall, the analysis examines the connection between three major things: the nature of the Roman state and its leadership; land distribution as a policy or plan; and the effect these may have had on agriculture, on Roman small farmers during this period. II The “State” in the Fourth Century To begin, I must clarify the ways that I am conceptualizing the Roman “state” during the fourth to early third centuries. There are good reasons to see the fifth-century Roman community as defined by localized, group-based dependency networks (such as, but not limited to, the gentes), where the average farmer’s experience of the “state” was confined to the immediately local relationships and social structures of service, subordination, and reciprocity that supported the community’s basic continuity and regeneration, rather than a model of expansion. The low level of institutional development in the fifth century meant that local powerful figures, such as the leader of a gens, likely laid the strongest claims to control over people, farms, resources and small-scale raiding initiatives. In this earlier period, forms of power, leadership, and the functions of what we might see as “government”, were likely more reliably present in local strongmen who were more immediately real to the average member of the community than a centralized state located in the urbs. As a result, land was likely worked through groupbased, yet highly hierarchic, forms of cooperation and exploitation, and warfare was largely limited to forms of raiding and other small-scale initiatives.3

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We must acknowledge that the term, “state”, is of course a problematic one, not least, as Eder (1990) points out, due to its vagueness as well as the vagueness of other terms related to it. Additionally, Anderson (2005) has argued that too many scholars insist on using overtly constitutionalist vocabulary to describe such a concept, rather than adopting a new interpretive framework; see also Capogrossi Colognesi (2011) xxii–xxiii, reminding that terms like “state” and “city-state” have strong ideological implications. Furthermore, both Van der Vliet (2011) and Terrenato (2011) helpfully point out that societies may include multiple types of power and hierarchies, a situation of “heterarchy”, in which a centralized, bureaucratic power is only one of a number of options that members of the community might choose to participate in. We also ought to remember that the development of any central bureaucratic or despotic power, its institutions, magistracies, laws, and such was most likely a very gradual and aggregative process: see Flower (2010) and Drogula (2015; 2020) on the gradual nature of institutional and magisterial development in early Rome. While I retain the use of the term, “state”, in some places for convenience, I will further clarify the way I conceptualize the Roman state in our period in the discussion further below. For greater elaboration on the nature of this earlier societal structure, including gentilicial control of land and redistribution of resources, see Terrenato (2007) 14–16, and now VanDerPuy (2020) 38–43. See also Armstrong (2016a) on the nature of the fifth-century community, the military role of the gentes, and the aims of the community’s warfare. Drogula (2020) 19–20, 24, also highlights

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However, Roman society and leadership had already begun to change in dramatic ways by the close of the fifth century and opening of the fourth. The community began to expand again by the last quarter of the fifth century, the community’s armies show signs of wider participation, land as a form of spoil rose in importance as on objective of warfare, and the development of institutional structures like the censorship brought greater administrative complexity into the lives of individual members of the community.4 In particular, by the opening of the fourth century, from the conquest of Veii onward, Rome’s warfare became increasingly characterized by larger, public initiatives involving the annexation of territory and the subjugation and/or incorporation of neighbouring communities.5 As members of the community received land through distributions, they also became bound by certain civic obligations and placed into a more calculative framework in relation to a state centrality which requisitioned resources from individualized citizens as taxpayers and soldiers. Much of this required a more fiscally complex outlook and a determinedly organized type of community leadership.6 The state that emerged and strengthened over the course of the fourth century may, in my view, be best described simply as a kind of military apparatus, a war-making hegemon and leadership that gradually but methodically came to preside over a federated network of manpower and resources throughout central Italy. This chapter will concentrate on a definition of the Roman “state” as a simple military machine, focused almost exclusively on the organizing and financing of yearly warfare and military campaigns, the collection of the resources required for this and, to a certain extent, the rewarding of its now more individualized citizen-farmers.7 While its capacity for war-making grew in size, and its

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the different types of military command that existed in early Rome and emphasizes the role of the gentes in conducting warfare on behalf of the Roman community. Terrenato (2007) 16–17, argues that while clan-based structures continued to be an important part of the societal fabric, from the fourth century onward there was a radical change as Rome in particular began to operate in a far more coherent and unified way. Taylor, in this volume, also argues that the implementation of the tributum/stipendium system by the opening of the fourth century indicates an increasingly high degree of administrative sophistication on the part of the Roman state. Armstrong (2016a) 277–278, postulates that it was the rising plebeian military leaders in particular whose aims reflected a more territorial, land-based approach to wealth, as opposed to the patrician generals who were part of a long tradition of using warfare to advance personal causes. For a reassessment of the Roman conquest of Italy, its imperialism, and its processes of dealing with defeated enemies, see Terrenato (2019). While the work offers some very helpful new ways of understanding the process of Rome’s expansion, including highlighting the possibility of more peaceful forms of integration and cooperation with local populations throughout central Italy, it also perhaps softens the harshest aspects of imperialism and conquest. See again, on this point, the contribution of Taylor in this volume, arguing that the Roman state, even from this early period, meticulously assessed the property holdings of common citizens as smallholders. For a very similar characterization of the Roman state as a highly organized machine in the fourth century, see Tan (2020); VanDerPuy (2020). However, Terrenato (2019) now also attempts to high-

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organizational powers grew in potency and concentration, this was still no massive, panoptic state with large bureaucratic depth, reaching into all areas of its citizens’ lives. The institutions that did come to be of paramount importance during this period – such as the consulship, the census, the tribal system, and eventually, the senate – were narrowly fixated on the organizing of yearly warfare, while the amelioration of other civic problems and societal issues were of less significance to the patricio-plebeian elite. It was also in this context that the new hybrid aristocracy, the patricio-plebeian war-making elite, emerged and developed with a corresponding ethos and system of self-legitimization that was defined almost exclusively through military achievement and conquest. This process was of course gradual but consistent throughout the fourth century. The emergence of this type of state and leadership also did not mean that other types of hierarchies and older societal structures completely ceased to exist.8 Rather there were likely a number of ways in which older power structures continued and were even made use of by the war-making elite. Just as the focus of this elite was rather narrowly trained on war-making, so its scope of coercive powers, its requisitioning of resources, and its ability to implement its policies and plans may not have enjoyed perfectly broad reach, and it likely relied on a network of other powerful individuals and agents willing to carry out certain functions on behalf of the state.9 In this way, older and more localized structures of power as well as unique relations of social interdependency between elites and peasant-farmers may have enjoyed greater continuity in some localities more so than in others.10 By the opening of the third century, however, the Roman military apparatus and its war-making leadership had largely succeeded in becoming the dominant power structure as older institutions and social categories like the gentes, nexum, and the warband

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light the process through which warbands and other local leaders grew increasingly interested and invested in urban centres, with a resulting growth of state structures that were, nevertheless, not all focused around war-making. See Bernard (2018a) generally, as well on growth of an urban state and community at Rome. Johnson et al. (2018) note increased urbanization at Gabii, around the midthird century, as a possible comparative example of increased investment in public buildings and structures throughout Latium during this larger period. On this point, Terrenato (2007) highlights the ways in which gentilicial structures and other older societal features may have retained some continuity across periods. See Terrenato (2019) for a fuller treatment of these ideas. See Ando (2017) 6–7, on the discursive element in state identity, highlighting the “telescoping” extension of central state power out through networks of more local individuals. VanDerPuy (2020) 48–49, discusses the potential, in the fourth century, for local strongmen, large-scale landowners, and other powerful local figures to marshal the tax revenue for their given locality in exchange for the latitude to treat local farmers in extortionate ways. For example, it is possible to imagine that some older, local forms of power were more firmly ensconced and continuous in the territories of the older tribus (many carrying the names of various gentes), while it was perhaps in the newer tribal instalments of the fourth-century conquest that the more centralized power of a state war-making machine laid greater claim to forms of control and organization of citizens, lands, and resources.

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slowly receded in importance, not perhaps before imparting some of their own characteristics and logics to that of the growing military machine.11 It is therefore possible to characterize Rome’s wars in this period as a struggle, not simply between Rome and surrounding non-Roman communities, but as a struggle between the growing power of a central, war-making structure and the local communities (both Roman and non-Roman) who variously submitted to, resisted, or negotiated with, the extractive claims of the central war-machine. In sum, the Roman state by the end of the fourth century was not much more than a war-making apparatus and leadership,12 exploitive of both people and farms in the imposition of burdens such as the tributum.13 Further, Rome’s military elite were little more than a class of specialists, those trained to do just one thing in particular: in this case, lead constant, yearly warfare.14 In this light, I would also classify the emergent patricio-plebeian elite as something of a monoculture in opposition to, and at odds with, farms and forms of agriculture that had to be mixed and sustainable. The question is: what effect did a fairly generalized policy of land distribution to independent individuals on small allotments have upon the newly set up (or acquired) farms which, by necessity, had to be complex and responsible in the use of soil and the maintenance of cooperative human partnerships?15 And how did land as a spoil of war change as it

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For example, the hierarchic nature of both the gens and the subordinate nature of the institution of nexum were perhaps reproduced in the basic framework and posture of Rome’s eventual hegemonic status over its alliance system and the subordination of the resources of its associated allies. On the Roman alliance system, after 338 BCE, as a kind of war-making apparatus, see North (1981). On the difficult process of integrating the alliance system, Helm (2017), and in particular, Tan (2020) 58–60, 71–72. See the contributions of Tan and VanDerPuy in Armstrong & Fronda (2020). Rosenstein (2016b) argued that successful expansion and the creation of new citizens helped to lower the burden that each existing taxpayer actually shouldered, which is indeed theoretically true (see also Taylor’s contribution to this volume). But see Tan (2020), in particular, with an incredibly insightful analysis that highlights how careful and potentially problematic the balance could be between new citizens as taxpayers who could help distribute the burden on one hand, and new citizens as soldiers who required more of the treasury through stipendium and thus more tributum from existing taxpayers on the other hand. The equation was a delicate one that had potential to backfire due to miscalculations or other variables that were difficult to predict or control, such as the limits of sustainable agricultural production which might affect rates of tributum available from some localities, and pre-modern mortality rates that might reduce available manpower in other localities thus requiring greater demand on other regions. Drogula (2015; 2020) highlights that the emergence of this increasingly organized class of military specialists, with its ability to mobilize considerable resources on a more consistent basis, was made possible by the reorganization of Rome’s command structure and the military reforms of the midfourth century (c. 367 BCE) in particular. See also Taylor’s contribution in this volume, highlighting the fiscal reforms, including the implementing of stipendium and tributum, which allowed the Romans to gradually draw on a larger pool of resources. See Bernard (2018a) 71–74, 114–117, approaching the question of land distribution and other “state” projects mainly in terms of how they affected labour availability. We should, however, always remember that labour quantities interact with and impact different types of land in different ways.

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was made subject to processes from distribution, to cultivation, and to the eventual requisitioning of resources in kind (tributum) for future military campaigns? III Definition and Characteristics of Sustainable Agriculture One further definition is required here, before continuing with the analysis of Rome’s expansion, conquest, and distribution of land as a form of spoil. We must acknowledge a few of the important features and variables involved in sustainable, regenerative agriculture. For Rome’s wars were essentially produced through the conjunction of two elements: financing and manpower. Financing, that is the tributum which allowed for the stipendium, was effectively provided, in a largely pre-coinage society, by the produce from farms.16 Similarly, the continuous supplying of young men for the dilectus, also depended quite naturally on farms and their productive potential. This means that the entire equation ultimately boiled down to one very risk-laden and mutable variable: agriculture, which interacted with the equally mutable variables of ecology, environment and climate. Simply put, diversification of strategies and diversity of plant species is absolutely critical on farms, as is a sophisticated and sensitive response to local conditions, including the allowance for perhaps the most crucial elements in keeping a farm healthy – time and knowledge.17 As Brush wrote of the Andean Uchucmarca culture, ‘the most important part of the [agricultural] technology is the knowledge of the local environment: knowing what crops are appropriate for each location and how to manipulate the various elements of the …environment’.18 Farmers needed to possess a local knowledge of crop sequencing and the ability to allow portions of the farm to remain in fallow for periods of time.19 The best farmers tend to think about future, not 16

17 18

19

Crawford (1974) and Nijboer (1998) 38, both emphasize the lack of coinage, particularly in small denominations before the third century BCE. See also Tan (2020) 54, noting that the Romans were more than capable of transacting payments of stipendium and tributum without the medium of coinage, and that it was possible that the medium of payment would be negotiated between the assiduus and the agent collecting/distributing the payment. Eventually those agents came to be the tribuni aerarii, but in this early period it is difficult to know who exactly performed this function for the state. See VanDerPuy (2020) 48 n. 64, and Taylor in this volume for views on the development of the collecting of tributum. On mixed farming, Cato, De ag. 1.3–7; Colum. 1.2–3; Var. RR 1.6. See also Frayn (1979) generally, Evans (1980) 135–137; Horden & Purcell (2000) 59. See Halstead (2014) on the encyclopaedic farming intelligence of peasants and small farmers. Brush (1977) 91. See Berry (2015) 192–194, on small farms and long-standing knowledge. On Latium’s microecological diversity and farmers’ responses to sustaining ecosystems see Frank (1919); Platner-Ashby (1927) 24–25; Horden & Purcell (2000) 61–63, 171, 181, 273; Bolle (2003) 10–11; Hughes (2014) 120; Berry (2015) 90–91. See also Colum. 2.2: his classifications of different regions and types of soils reflect well the microecological complexity of Latium. See Halstead (2014) Ch. 5 in particular.

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just present demands. Sequencing and fallowing had the importance of introducing all sorts of new forms of life and organisms into the soil – but this of course required patience and long amounts of time.20 The rhythms of health in the natural world involve long amounts of time and lack of interference from the demands and claims of external agencies. Furthermore, a good farmer knows wild spaces and completely uncultivated patches of land are intrinsic to the health of the farm as an ecosystem. There, new species of plants, grains and seeds develop, which are more naturally resistant to drought and pests.21 Additionally, the trees and bushes of marginal spaces can be massively important as hedges around individual fields: these naturally save topsoil runoff and erosion, especially for farms and fields with slopes.22 The microecologies of Latium are fairly well known, and these ecological niches were potentially very congenial to small-plot farming, but not all land is equal. Steeper hillsides and their soils are far more liable to seasonal torrents and damaging forms of drainage, and many plots of land differed in quality and suitability for certain types of cultivation, even just from plot to plot. Thus, not all plots of land were suitable simply for grain production, but rather needed to be highly diverse in cultivation strategies, crops, pasturage, and forms of livestock.23 This created a massive requirement for farmers to coordinate their lands and strategies of cultivation, fallowing, and pasturing. Good farmers also demonstrate the ability to plough in ways that keep the top layer of soil intact and on top, without disturbing the lower ‘horizons’ of a healthy com-

20 21 22

23

Berry (2015) 198–200. Cato De ag. 5.1, Colum. 2.9.15 and 2.43–6, Hesiod WD 486–90, and Virgil Georg. 1.43–70 and 208–230 all demonstrate a knowledge of the importance of timing, sequencing and seasonal rhythms. Berry (2015) 198. Spurr (1986) 41, also notes that elites benefit from careful and discriminating seed selection year after year, due to their surpluses. Greater ingenuity was required of smaller farmers. Many of the statutes from the Twelve Tables deal with aspects of agrarian life and strategies for making a farm successful. For a reconstruction of the Twelve Tables, see Crawford (1996) 578–583. The planting and maintenance of trees or shrubs might conserve topsoil runoff and mark borders or boundaries with neighbours. Statutes VI.7 and VII.9 of the Twelve Tables deal with maintenance of trees; see also Cato, De ag. 2.3–4, 3.1, and 6; Colum. 1.3.7; Var. RR 1.15; Virgil, Ecl. 9.60–1. These references on trimming and planting trees also go well with the statutes in VII.2–5 on boundary marking between farms, and see also Var. RR 1.16.6 here. In particular, grazing ruminants (especially cows), rotated through the same fields with some crops, are enormously beneficial to soil health and fertility, and they also help to redistribute the soil nutrients that have been washed down to lower elevations back to upper hillsides and thus mitigate erosion problems. A small herd of grazing ruminants, responsibly managed by moving from paddock to paddock, is an indispensable link in the chain of life and energy within an ecosystem, and it can do much to successfully reproduce the productive potential of a farm or rehabilitate a damaged landscape. See Kron (2017) on the necessity of integrating livestock into small farms; Halstead (2014) Ch. 5, on managing grazing ruminants Modern agricultural research is highlighting the importance of what has been termed “adaptive, multi-paddock grazing” (AMPG) for soil health and carbon sequestration in ecosystems: see Stanley, Rowntree, Beede, DeLonge & Hamm (2018).

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posite soil.24 On the other hand, bad ploughing, forms of haste, overproduction and crop intensification damage soil layers, leaving them far less retentive of rain water, and the fields slowly wash away as species diversity is increasingly lost and the ecosystem regresses to a point of seriously impaired fertility and productivity.25 It is important to remember that not all soils are arable, and more importantly, that even the soils that can be plowed are sometimes cultivable only at great cost to the ecosystem, and other food production strategies may be more appropriate for a given plot of land. Just as time – long amounts of it – was an essential variable in the success of a farm and its various strategies of cultivation and regeneration, so cooperation between farms was also an enormously important variable. Servitudes, or rights of access and sharing for such important commodities as fresh water, roadways or paths, and grazing rights were the cooperative glue that held many communities together, and such a fragile social and economic bond could take generations to solidify.26 These agreements were always liable to potential ruptures and forms of conflict that could destabilize one farmer or another and send reverberations throughout the web of interconnected farms and families. It is not difficult to imagine as well that the strength of such agreements was also easily threatened, and cooperation could quickly break down, the more outside agencies and external demands imposed burdens and made claims upon the productive potential of individual farms. Overall, the strategies and forms of knowledge that make for good farming are a kind of long-term lexicon that includes both a family’s past successes and its failures – these are a record of a particular place and the long amounts of time required to make that place balanced and sustainable.27 In general, smallholding farmers do not aim for large surpluses or overproduction for external agencies. They tend to live by the principles of what is enough for the present and the placing of all surpluses back into the soil to ensure its future fertility.28 Thus, the transporting of resources and surpluses off the farm has the potential to rupture and seriously impair the regenerative cycle by which its continuity is guaranteed.

24 25 26 27 28

On the concept of ‘soil horizons’ in a healthy topsoil, see Redman (1999) 82. Frank (1973) 56–57; Redman (1999) 85–87. Kluiving & Hamel (2016) 58, point out that, while ecosystems can be quite resilient, human-induced changes to an ecological niche can have indirect and disproportionate (and therefore, unpredictable) results. On early servitudes see Grosso (1969) 14–19; Bannon (2009) generally. On cooperation between agriculturalists, see Horden & Purcell (2000) 84–86, 180; Bannon (2009) 24. Berry (2015) 184–186. On the intelligence and knowledge of small farmers, see, generally, Evans (1980); Horden & Purcell (2000); Kron (2008); Halstead (2014); Hughes (2014). Berry (2017) 39–40.

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IV Land Allotments and the Expansion of the Tribal System in the Fourth Century BCE Now, as we can plainly observe from Livy’s narrative, the Roman state during the fourth to early third centuries engaged in a huge amount of conquest and land distribution in the form of direct viritane, citizen allotments, as well as through colonization schemes.29 While I will argue further below that the Latin colonization movement represented a somewhat different strategy of spoliation, land use and resource extraction, the notices attesting to these colonies still combine with other distributions to give us a good idea of the sheer magnitude of annexation and land distribution that took place during this period. Of more immediate concern is the evidence for the major expansion of the tribal system in which newly landed citizens were enrolled as a result of distributions (some of which may have included allotments to portions of the recently defeated). In the wake of the conquest of Veii, the years from 387–358 alone saw the creation of six whole new tribes, as the Romans settled farmers on the landscapes of southern Etruria and Latium. Additionally, from 332–299, another six new tribes were created as a result of further conquest to the south and into Campania, the total reaching twelve new tribal instalments in eighty-eight years.30 Furthermore, by the late fourth century, Latium, from Rome through the lower Pontine Plain, was opened to commerce and development by the Via Appia, paved sometime around 312.31 Of course, these tribal installations and different phases of expansion took place over the course of decades and under different sets of circumstances. While we must acknowledge that there were unique factors involved in different moments of territorial annexation and expansion of the tribes, it is still worth stressing here that, cumulatively, these notices attest to a century characterized by stunning and extraordinary growth.32

29 On land agitation and land allotments: Liv. 5.24–30 (395–393 BCE), detailing proposals and agitations for distribution of Veientine lands; 5.50 (390 BCE), also on Veientine allotments; 6.4 (388 BCE) on land allotments to Veientines, Capenates and Faliscans; 6.5–6 (387–386 BCE), question of the Pomptine lands; 6.16 (385 BCE), complaints over land allotments at the colony of Satricum; 6.21 (383 BCE), division of Pomptine lands and colony at Nepete; 8.11 (340 BCE) and 8.14 (338 BCE), colony at Antium; 8.16 (334 BCE), colony at Cales; 8.21 (329 BCE), colony at Anxur (Terracina); 9.26 (314 BCE), colony at Luceria; 9.28 (313 BCE), colonies at Suessa and Pontiae; 10.1 (303–302 BCE), colonies at Alba and Sora; 10.3 (302 BCE), colony at Carseoli; 10.21 (296 BCE), colonies at Minturnae and Sinuessa. 30 Tribal installations of the fourth to early third centuries BCE: 387 BCE: Arniensis, Stellatina, Sabatina and Tromentina (Liv. 6.5.8); 359–358 BCE: Pomptina and Publilia (Liv. 7.15.12); 332 BCE: Maecia and Scaptia (Liv. 8.17.11–12); 318–317 BCE: Oufentina and Falerna (Liv. 9.20.6); 299 BCE: Aniensis and Terentina (Liv. 10.19.14); Helm (2022b). 31 Bernard (2018a) 44, highlights the strong connection between Roman imperial expansion through war and the expansion of economic access to major supplies throughout central Italy. 32 Terrenato (2019) Ch. 3, on the expansion of small farms throughout Italy and elsewhere in the Mediterranean in the fourth century.

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All of this must have represented a pretty striking expansion of individualized farms throughout the diverse microecologies of Latium, though it is also important to allow for the possibility of some incorporation of the conquered, previous landowners.33 If we take the case of the incorporation of the Veientine territory, for example, Livy indicates that there were both enslavements and enfranchisements of the Veientes, Capenates, and Faliscans.34 No matter how many previous landholders (newly enfranchised) were allowed to retain their properties, or how many newly established Romans were settled on the newly annexed territories, what is more important to understand here is that all would have been thus brought into the calculative apparatuses of the census and the tributum/dilectus system.35 Accordingly, the census and the tributum-system must have become a highly important apparatus in calculating and exploiting these landscapes and farms as units of production in the organizing of ever-increasing warfare.36 In particular, from about 406 to 387 BCE, we seem to be witnessing the arrival of a major set of mechanisms that would reform the agricultural-economic structure of Roman society, its warfare, and the relation of citizens to the state. Four critical mechanisms were instituted, or continued to solidify, to provide the foundations of a major reform to the agricultural-economic structure of Roman society: 1) viritane distribution schemes, 2) the expansion of the tribal system with new (or renewed) functions and purpose, 3) the census, and 4) the stipendium-tributum-dilectus complex. This collection of institutions provided the economic and agricultural basis for the production 33

34 35 36

As Terrenato (2007) 140–143 notes, quite suddenly and rapidly, from the fourth to third centuries, large sections of Italy were settled on a massive scale. But note also Terrenato (2019), which offers a revisionist view of Roman expansion with greater estimates of the number of defeated peoples incorporated into and/or given land in the settlement of conquests. For example, the author (at 115–116) views the conquest of Veii as more of a fusion between two states rather than the outright elimination of one state and its population. This is an admittedly speculative area, since we do not always have good information on exactly how the settlement of conquered territories was organized. Even in the case of some slightly better-known settlements, like that of the territory of Veii (Liv. 6.4.4–5), where land seems to have been given to the Veientes, Capenates, and Faliscans, we cannot be certain how many were incorporated versus how many were enslaved and eliminated. Scholars can be rather divided on this issue: Cornell (1995) 320, argues that a majority were enfranchised and a smaller few sold into slavery; Bradley (2011) 244–245 and Bernard (2016) 325–326, argue the opposite. Liv. 5.22.1 (enslavement) and 6.6.4–5 (enfranchisement). Tan (2020) 58: “There must be a full realization that the creation of these new citizens was in no small way the creation of new taxpayers.” On the increasing importance of the census for calculating the contributions of broadening layers of the Roman community already beginning as early as the mid- to late fifth century, see Cornell (1995) 188; Torelli (2012) 9; Armstrong (2016a) 184, 231, 234. Archaeologically speaking, Patterson et al. (2004) 13, argue that the redistribution of known sites in the ager Veientanus from the fifth to early fourth centuries is “strongly suggestive of reorganization of landscape exploitation” as well as “a fundamental social and economic reorganization.” The authors do, however, note that this reorganization occurred against the backdrop of broader demographic shifts throughout central Italy. In their view, the Romans may have moved in opportunistically to take advantage of the changing situation.

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of a new kind of warfare characterized by larger public armies and waged on an annual basis.37 Viritane distributions populated landscapes and organized them on the basis of individual, distinct units for calculative purposes; the tribus and the census were the apparatuses that helped quantify and calculate farms as resources; and both the tributum and the dilectus in particular, performed the extractive function of removing and reallocating those outputs of produce and energy to Rome’s armies. Whatever the original function and character of the earliest tribes, often attributed to the period of the monarchy, the new tribal system that came in during the early fourth century clearly had its own distinct purpose (or perhaps a renewal of old logics with a much more vigorous and methodical application).38 Many of the names of the original earliest tribes were those of the gentes, and it is possible that they indicate a division of territory based on earlier gentilicial forms of control and defence of Rome’s more limited territorial boundaries.39 But once the community began to expand again, particularly after the sack of Veii, the new tribes installed from 387 onward functioned primarily as administrative extraction apparatuses designed to requisition the resources to produce war, and those resources were most likely in the form of grain. In this sense, though the etymological connection for tribus is uncertain, conceptually, the new tribus and their tribules, as farming units within a larger grain-collection apparatus, can be thought of as the grain-suppliers for the state (though we also acknowledge that a wider array of types of produce may have been requisitioned as well). Taylor’s connecting of tribus to tribuere and its variety of definitions (‘to divide or allot’, ‘to grant or bestow’, ‘to yield or give up’) seems particularly apt here: farmers were divided and allotted lands (tribuere) and placed into administrative divisions (tribus) for the purpose of raising and yielding up grain-based produce (tributum) for the state.40 This should dispel any straightforward notions that, early on, Roman citizenship and a land allotment constituted any sort of uncomplicated privilege or prosperity. As Tan has recently argued, “the dilectus-tributum system thus meant that every act of enfranchisement was also a fiscal policy … Enfranchisement should therefore be seen less as a sharing of benefits and more as a sharing of obligations. It constituted a peculiar tribute system.”41 The burdens of the system likely outweighed the potential 37 38

39 40 41

Roselaar (2020) 195, points out that it is difficult to tell whether the shift to land-based acquisitions and spoil was driven by demand from soldiers or newer mechanics of state-based warfare. See Taylor (2013) 3–9, for discussion of the early tribes and the administrative purpose of the new tribes from 387 onward. See Carafa (2019) on the transformation of territory during the late monarchy and beginning of the Republic. It is possible that the tribal system of the fourth century represents something more like a renewal of policies that characterized conquest and territorial development at the end of the period of the Monarchy. See now as well Viglietti (2020) 135–137, on the introduction of the early census as an instrument of property assessment, albeit in narrower form than that of the later fourth-century period. Terrenato (2019) 46–47. See also Terrenato (2019) 4, for discussion of the etymology of tribus. Tan (2020) 57–58.

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advantages to gaining citizenship and a farm, particularly in a period in which little financial support could be sought from the state and/or treasury, and for which the literary record indicates loans and middlemen-moneylenders as the primary, yet perilous, source of economic viability for farmers. This last point in particular gives us occasion to elaborate further on the some of the variables and burdens faced by small farmers with a land allotment in a new tribe. V The Variables of Land Allotments and the Burdens of Small Farmers Land allotment sizes in general were likely very small: the sources give us a range of different figures for land allotments, but what is common to all estimates is that they are all quite low – seven iugera is on the higher end.42 As a result, in some places, such as the lower Pontine region, where the archaeology indeed seems to show a marked increase of land reclamation and entirely new settlements in the later fourth century, a large number of settlers may have been placed upon what was a complex and variegated landscape in very similar, small parcels.43 However, the Roman state’s policy of land distribution in this manner represented a potentially dangerous oversimplification of a very complex thing: agriculture – more specifically, sustainable polyculture and the diverse microecologies with which farmers interacted. As noted above, many of the strategies involved in mixed polyculture rely on making use of highly diverse ecologies, interconnections between different types and plots of land, and the ability to allow

42

43

The Veientine land allotments were said to be seven iugera, Liv. 5.30.8, 6.4.4; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 14.102.4. However, two iugera is a common estimate among our sources, e. g. Var. RR 1.10. 2; Plin. HN 18.7; Cicero, Rep. 2.14.26. A number of Livy’s notices of land allotments tend to be in that range: two iugera at Labici in 417 (4.47.7); two and a half iugera at Satricum in 385 (6.16.6); and two iugera at Tarracina in 329 BCE (8.21.11). Diod. Sic. 14.102.4 suggests four iugera as the norm. But Colum. 1.3.10 indicates seven iugera; Val. Max. 4.4.6, highlights the seven-iugera farm of M. Atilius Regulus. Many modern scholars cite the seven-iugera allotments of Veii as a good general estimate: Brunt (1971) 35; Rathbone (2008) 307. Rosenstein (1999) 196, estimates plots of land between one and a half to two and a half hectares, somewhere between six to ten iugera. Cornell (1995) 269, importantly notes, however, that even 7 iugera was less than half the minimum required, using the methods of Roman agriculture, to support a family. Rosenstein’s careful calculations (2004) 66–69, demonstrate that a family required a minimum of somewhere from 20 to 30 iugera of land. Accordingly, the odds of the situation may have been stacked heavily against small farmers receiving an allotment, from the start. However, Roselaar (2010) 204–206, argues that 7 iugera may have been sufficient in many cases. Indeed, this may have been true, but in the arguments further below we will argue that such small plots can face destabilization when interfered with by external, state demands. Attema, De Haas & Termeer (2014) on the archaeological evidence for land reclamation, settlement and distribution in the lower Pontine region, roughly the areas of the tribus Oufentina and Pomptina. Colum. 1.5.6–7 insists on the avoidance of land near marshes, a policy that perhaps not all poor Roman settlers receiving land allotments could follow.

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time for many agricultural strategies to develop – and all of these variables may have been more greatly hindered at first in a new, individualized allotment. Elsewhere, greater detail about the financial burdens associated with receiving a small allotment and financing the new beginning of an individual farm has been more thoroughly elaborated.44 But in particular, there were a few considerable costs that likely helped drive many farmers into forms of debt: settlers needed seed for planting, building materials for barns, storage and houses and, most vitally, food to make it to the first harvest. Interestingly, Livy noted that in 387, despite the Romans having gained undisputed control of the Pomptine district, many members of the plebs were too financially exhausted and unable to afford to stock a potential farm to consider backing a proposal for its distribution45 Additionally, animals were costly, yet both the ancient agronomists as well as modern scientists have pointed out that they are intrinsic to keeping soils healthy, increasing crop yields (which might to help pay off costs and debts), and were an effective solution to soil exhaustion and gradual erosion.46 Simply put, a small number of animals, and grazing ruminants in particular, were indispensable for the health of a landscape, and these additions to a farm could not have come cheaply. Accordingly, I have suggested that the proliferation of notices underscoring a mounting debt problem, saturating the record for the fourth century, likely have a lot to do with Rome’s land distribution schemes, as new farmers faced what could be desperate circumstances in making an allotment productive and ecologically balanced.47 Pressures, including the need to borrow heavily and then repay debt most likely in forms of grain or produce, likely led many farmers to over-intensify the production of their fields and dangerously simplify their portfolio of strategies, gradually trending towards monoculture. Putting farms into full production only decreases the sensitivity of response to the ecology of a specific farm, contributes to the loss of topsoils, and in-

44 45 46 47

VanDerPuy (2020) 46–47; see also (2017) Ch. 6. Liv. 6.5.5. See Cato De ag. 61; Colum. 2.1.7, 2.13.3–4; Var. RR 18.192. For modern scholarship, see Spurr (1986) 126–27 and above, n. 21. For debt notices, Liv. 6.11–20 (385–384 BCE, sedition of Manlius Capitolinus); 6.27 (380 BCE); 6.31–7 (378–368 BCE), spiraling debt; 7.16 (357 BCE); 7.19 (353 BCE); 7.20–1 (352 BCE), major initiative on debt including the creation of a five-man board of ‘bankers’ (mensarii) for discharging debts; 7.27 (347–346 BCE); 7.28 (345–343 BCE), prosecution of faeneratores by the aediles; 7.38 (342 BCE); 7.42 (342 BCE) lex Genucia; 8.28 (326 BCE), lex Poetelia abolishing nexum; 8.34 (310 BCE); 10.23 (295 BCE), prosecutions of faeneratores by aediles; Per. 11 (287 BCE), ‘Third Secession of the Plebs’ over debt. There do not seem to be extremely good reasons to doubt the authenticity of debt notices as part of the bare notices from basic archival materials that later historians like Livy could draw upon. In support of the historicity of these basic notices, see Oakley (1997) 27, 72; Cornell (1995) 13; Raaflaub (2005a) 5–6. Forsythe (1994) 53–73 for broader discussion of some of the critiques of the annalistic tradition.

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creases the possibility of erosion.48 Tenney Frank wrote of the notorious vulnerability of Latium’s microclimates to erosion roughly a century ago: when erosion of topsoil occurs it is often difficult to check this process as the ecosystem in many cases rapidly regresses, losing its species diversity and resiliency.49 But the other major burden I wish to specifically highlight here was that of the wartax, the tributum, likely imposed on farmers as a grain-based collection.50 This in particular had the potential to force many small farmers into a dangerous oversimplification of cultivation on their farms, as they looked to meet the demands of tributum in grain.51 While Northwood has argued that the agents assessing farms for the purpose of taxation likely did so based on ‘current market values’, the pertinent question is whether current market values were estimated fairly and whether they took into account the unique carrying capacity of individual farms and their ecologies.52 No one knew the productive limits to which a small farm could be put better than the farmer; yet many farmers on small allotments may have been assessed and registered in a tribe before they, or those estimating the tributum, had had time to fully understand the complexity of their allotment’s ecology and its productive limits.53 In the case of the Veientine settlement, after the conquest in 396, it was not very long after land distributions that citizens were enrolled in the four new tribes. While some of the defeated may have kept their old farms, and while some of the newly landed Roman settlers may have received working farms, agriculturally speaking, this is still a very short period in which to familiarize with a farm and its productive potential. It is perhaps not a coincidence, then, that the debt notices in Livy’s narrative suddenly erupt precisely in 385, only two years after the settlers of the Veientine allotment schemes had been registered into four new tribes and their properties and taxes assessed.54 The costs associated with either starting a new farm or maintaining an existing

48 49 50 51

52 53 54

Redman (1999) 82–86, carefully analyses and defines the composition of topsoil, including its ‘soil horizons’ and their vulnerability to erosion. Frank (1919). See also Hughes (2014) 72–73, 81–82, 140; Redman (1999) 86. Tributum must have been necessitated by the stipendium, and I agree with other scholars who date the introduction of the stipendium, at least on an ad hoc basis, to c. 406 BCE: Cornell (1995) 187; Oakley (1997) 631; Rosenstein (1999) 212 n. 24; Tan (2020); see also Taylor in this volume. The census procedure for assessment of land is difficult to know with certainty for this period. Nicolet (1976b) 44–5, emphasizes the later role of the tribuni aerarii in the collection of tributum. Much later, Justinian’s Digest, 50.15.4, indicates that declarations of land before state agents involved quite detailed pronouncements about the types of land, produce and amounts of iugera under current cultivation. In our period, it makes more sense to imagine local strongmen, largescale landholding elites – some of whom perhaps belonged to the emergent state military elite – fronting the tributum to the state, and then recouping it from the local farmers themselves. Northwood (2008) 262–263. See Armstrong in this volume. Our period predates that of the later large-scale, overseas wars that took males off farms into longterm service, during a period of their life when their caloric needs outweighed their energy contributions to a farm. See Rosenstein (2004) in more detail. Beginning of debt notices: Liv. 6.12.

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one gained through war spoliation made debt an inherent and likely factor in land distribution schemes. Moreover, the pressure on farmers resulting from the imposition of tributum had the potential to destabilize the healthy rhythms of cultivation on a small farm by encouraging overintensification and hindering the full deployment of diversified strategies by which soils are kept fertile. Such a burden may also have deprived small farmers of already thin surpluses which they could sell for extra income or use to pay debts at ideal moments when supply and demand gave their crops and labour greater market value. As such, the imposition of tributum might be more than just an unwanted burden in lean years; it was also a massive hindrance to peasants’ ability to take advantage of ideal circumstances in which to establish future resiliency and security.55 Additionally, the collection of agricultural tithes and taxes by those deputized by state agents – however we imagine them in this period – was a transaction always prone to corruption. Those collecting the tax may have gathered more than required from farmers as they carried out this function for the state. As well, a farmer’s property may have been overvalued at the registration which set his tax rate, while the collection of tributum as grain at harvest time hit the farmer particularly hard as grain value decreased during a moment of supply glut. Different types of burdens could therefore interact with each other and compound the farmers’ problems. Tributum of course directly financed and supplied Rome’s wars, which took place with a greater frequency from the early fourth century onward. Yet, the imposition of tributum on Rome’s small farmers had the effect of subordinating complex landscapes and ecosystems to the calculated organizing of warfare. Roman farms, to put the situation in Aristotle’s terms, were treated as both the instruments of production and the instruments of action in the drive to acquire ever more territory; they were both the poiētika organa and praktika organa in ‘the art of acquisition’ (ἡ κτητική).56 Roman farms in the fourth to early third centuries became the organs of a system of exploitation and resource extraction. What we see with the emergence of a Roman state military machine in the fourth century is therefore a corresponding militarization of farms and their productive potential. The pressures felt by farmers in this period were probably only exacerbated by the rise of an equally abstract quantitative commercial system that came to involve coinage, moneylenders and interest rates for loans and debts.57 Much of the debt notices in the narrative have to do with simple modifications of faenus (interest rates) and 55

See Hughes (2014) 128, esp. n. 24. Note as well Liv. 6.12 (400 BCE) and 6.31 (378 BCE), where the tribunes of the plebs block the collection of the tributum. 56 Aristotle, Pol. 1.1253b-1254a: τὰ μὲν οὖν λεγόμενα ὄργανα ποιητικὰ ὄργανά ἐστι, τὸ δὲ κτῆμα πρακτι­ κόν (‘now the instruments spoken of are those of production, while the piece of property is an instrument of action’). 57 See n. 47 on the emergence of debt notices. Liv. 6.34.1–2, seems to note the problems associated with the emergence of a more abstract, monetized and fiscal type of debt in the fourth century:

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­ iddlemen figures like the faeneratores, who emerge by the middle of the fourth cenm tury.58 This system seems to have helped finance the expansion of farmers on annexed landscapes during this period. Yet, this debt structure was not like older forms of debt dependency, such as nexum, which redeployed labor and surpluses locally, within a farming community.59 The type of debt that cropped up in the fourth-century record seems to have siphoned resources from farmers out of the community to external agents, the same way in which the tribal system extracted farming surpluses and carried them out to Rome’s armies. Faenus, or ‘interest’ likely formed one of the pressures that led to some forms of agricultural overintensification, as farmers struggled under the burden of their loans as well as the tribute system they entered when receiving an allotment. The record of debt problems for the average member of the community in the fourth century is astonishing, particularly since there is an almost complete absence of debt notices in the fifth-century narrative.60 The debt notices suddenly appear beginning in 385, in the wake of the land distributions, enfranchisements, and tribal installations relating to the Veientine lands. These notices then crescendo through the first half of the fourth century, reaching a peak around the 350’s, in the wake of the establishment of the Pomptine and Publilian tribes. While it is possible to connect debt problems with some other causes, it seems to me extremely difficult to deny the connection between the rising financial problems of the community and the expansion of territory, land distributions, and the formation of the new tribes as extraction apparatuses.61 The trajectory of these two phenomena seem to correlate quite closely in the narrative. In particular, what we are seeing in the first half of the fourth century is the gradual implementation of the different variables of the structural reform outline above. The drive to implement this structural reform was likely propelled by a newly-emerging leadership class composed of both patricians and plebeians who were focused on the leading of larger public armies and land as a form of spoil. There are, however, beyond the sheer amount of debt notices, some other telling notices in Livy’s narrative that

cum eo ipso, quod necesse erat solui, facultas soluendi impediretur (‘the fact itself that discharging the debt was compulsory impeded the ability to pay’). 58 Debt notices including greater amounts of calculative language: Liv. 6.14 (385 BCE, aes et libram); 6.17 (385 BCE, faenus); 6.18 (384 BCE, faenus and court procedures (ius de pecuniis)); 6.27 (380 BCE, faenus); 6.35–42 (375–67 BCE); 7.16 (357 BCE, faenus fixed at an unciarius); 7.19 (353 BCE, crushing weight of faenus); 7.21 (352 BCE, faenus); 7.27 (347–6 BCE, faenus reduced again); 7.28 (345–3 BCE, prosecution of faeneratores); 7.38 (342 BCE, faenus); 7.42 (342 BCE, passage of the lex Genucia making it unlawful to lend with interest). 59 On earlier debt dependencies, such as nexum, and their functional contribution to earlier societal structures, see VanDerPuy (2020) 38–43. 60 On the pattern of debt notices in Livy in particular, see Bernard (2016) 317; VanDerPuy (2020) 36–37, including n. 5 for a full list of passages containing the debt notices. 61 Tan (2020) 55, highlights this utterly ruinous fiscal situation in the opening decades of the fourth century.

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seem to indicate that there were problems with this new system and that the process of implementing these changes was a fairly messy one. Tribunes blocked the levying of tributum in 400 and 378, and blocked the dilectus in 397.62 Throughout the narrative of the Licinio-Sextian agitations the dilectus also appears to be a major burden for the average members of the community.63 In 395 the plebs spurned a proposal for a colony on the Volscian frontier on account of the extremely small size of the suggested allotments as well as the poorer quality of the lands in comparison to others.64 As noted earlier, Livy notes that the plebs were too financially exhausted in 387 to consider proposals about the Pomptine district, especially because they lacked the ability to stock and equip potential farms.65 And once again, in 385, against the backdrop of the sedition of Manlius Capitolinus, the plebs were angered by a proposal for a colony at Satricum that allotted a mere two-and-a-half iugera to the settlers.66 Additionally, in a number of years, there are clear conflicts within the community regarding whether to elect censors and allow the taking of the census. Livy connects these firmly to the mounting debt problem and it is not difficult to imagine that members of the community, from the establishment of the first four new tribes onward, rapidly began to resent and perhaps resist the calculative apparatuses that formed part of this newly emerging societal structure into which they were being placed.67 There also seems to have been a major effort to reorganise and fully exploit the region of southern Etruria and northern Latium in the opening decades of the fourth century. In addition to the reorganization of the Veientine lands, the Roman community also engaged in large building projects at Rome (the building of a defensive wall) and elsewhere as the Alban lake was drained and hydraulic works created for the irrigation of fields.68 There appears to have been a general intensification of agricultural exploitation in this region overall and its possible that some of these works involved the restoration or reuse of pre-existing systems of cuniculi.69 The focus on shoring up forms of drainage and irrigation systems in the region also may represent large-scale efforts to mitigate problems of erosion faced by farmers. The evidence overall suggests that there must have been a correspondingly massive demand for the labor and resources needed 62 63 64 65 66 67 68

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Liv. 5.12.3–4 and 6.31.4–5 on tributum, and 5.15.5 for the dilectus. For example, at Liv. 6.36 (370–369 BCE). Liv. 5.24.4–6. Liv. 6.5.5. Liv. 6.16.6–8. See now Viglietti (2020) 141–147, re-examining the minimum levels of subsistence diets and renewing arguments for the viability of such small plots of land as 2 iugera. Liv. 6.27.1–6 (380 BCE); 6.31.2 (378 BCE). See Cornell (1995) 331–332 on the burdensome nature of taxes for the building of Rome’s walls. See also now Bernard (2018a) Ch. 4, with a full cost-analysis of the building of the Republican circuit walls and the economic burden this posed for Roman households. On the Alban Lake projects, see Wikander (2000) 630; Wiseman (2004) 88. On cuniculi in Latium, see Quilici Gigli (1983); Fulminante (2014) 156, 169; Bannon (2009) 61–62. 69.

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for all of this.70 It was probably through the apparatuses of the census and the tributum system that the Roman leadership sought to meet these needs. Livy indicates the tax for the wall was collected as tributum.71 As Rome expanded in the first few decades of the fourth century, repeated conflicts in the Volscian region and recurring hostilities around Tusculum and with the Veliterni and the Privernates likely made tributum and the dilectus a constant burden for Rome’s new tax-payers. In tandem with this, the reorganization of the region’s infrastructure and associated building projects hit farmers with another form of heavy taxation. Tusculum’s defeat, incorporation, and enfranchisement in 381 BCE, as well as that of Veilitrae, must have helped to distribute some of the tax burden among more farmers.72 Yet it still appears that the ambitions, both in war-making and building projects, of the newly emerging leadership outpaced the sustainability of the system they were introducing. Rome’s farmers, financially and likely agriculturally, were being exhausted, and the community’s leadership was probably only slowly learning how to strike the right balance to the whole equation of requisitioning resources from farms. There must have been a steep learning curve, a great deal of trial and error in the first half of the fourth century. Furthermore, even though a commission was appointed for dividing up the Pomptine lands in 383 BCE, it was not actually until 358 that the Pomptine and Publilian tribes were added.73 Warfare in the region probably goes a long way in explaining that, while lands were divided up in 383, actually settling and establishing farms in the region was a much longer process. But this means that, aside from the incorporation of Tusculum and Velitrae, new taxable citizens and lands were not added to the equation, to spread out the burden among a larger pool of taxpayers, until 358 – about thirty years after the Veientine tribal instalments. Furthermore, the addition and enrolment of these new tribes also directly preceded another moment when debt problems spiked and became an explosive issue, and it is possible that the newly enrolled farmers in these tribes also found the system of tribute into which they were placed a very burdensome one on their farms. Livy highlights the extraordinary emergency initiative to which the state had recourse by 352 BCE when they appointed a special five-man board of mensarii to restructure and find solutions to another mounting debt crisis. Interestingly, debts were discharged in one of two ways: some debts were bought by the state on surety of 70

71 72 73

See Bernard (2018a), Ch. 6 in particular, on questions of labour supply for this period. It should be noted here that Bernard connects much of the activity in the early fourth century with the expansion of the city and an urban state structure. Though my arguments here stress the development of a military state apparatus, it is important to acknowledge that state structures centred on the urbs were also developing. Liv. 6.32.1. On Tusculum, Liv. 6.4.4, 6.26.8; on Velitrae: Liv. 6.17.7, 6.21. Liv. 6.21.4–5 on the division of the proposal to divide the lands; 7.15.12 on the addition of the Pomptine and Publilian tribes.

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the debtor’s property, and other debts were paid by selling the debtor’s property and possessions outright. Livy indicates that, as a result of this initiative, the next census revealed that a large number of properties changed hands – a situation that must have created a good number of farmers looking to move on to new lands.74 Although the addition of these tribes expanded the pool of taxpayers shouldering the burden of tributum, it is important to remember, as Tan has pointed out, that the addition of new citizens also would have increased the number of eligible stipendium-earners drawing upon the treasury, thus necessitating greater collection of tributum.75 As the size of the legions put into the field grew to four by the closing decades of the fourth century, this meant that as many as about 18,000 stipendium-earning soldiers might be put through the dilectus every single year.76 This also means that the equation was a complex one which may have taken the Roman state leadership decades to experiment with and refine. As Tan also notes, “too many men ushered through the dilectus would leave too few to pay the bills through tributum.”77 I would argue that the tribes that were created in the first half of the fourth century shouldered a very difficult burden in tributum before the creation of more tribes in the latter half of the fourth century helped shift some of the burden. In general, the increasing number of stipendium-earning soldiers created by enfranchisements, land distributions, and newly enrolled tribes also created an increased demand for tributum. In certain years, the war-making leadership may have gotten the equation right. But the waging of war on a yearly basis, and thus the demand for tributum every single year eventually meant that the Roman state leadership had to find some larger structural solutions to the burdens its farmers faced. It important here that I clarify a number of things concerning my arguments about the destabilization of farms in this period. I wish to stress that I am not arguing for a widespread ecological collapse of the entirety of Latium. Rather, I am suggesting that, within any given phase of land distributions, there occurred highly localized forms of landscape stress and degradation on individual farms. Secondly, it also important to stress that the type of ecological problems I am highlighting, and the potential for the degradation of individual farms, arose from a combination of interacting factors.78 There is a growing consensus that farming regimes in premodern periods were more

74

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For the commission of mensarii, Liv. 7.20–1. In favour of the historicity of this special commission, see Oakley (1997) 53. Liv. 7.22.6–7 on the exchanges of property ownership. Bernard (2018a) 146, argues that Livy portrays this as a liquidity crisis centring around the difficulty of paying debt from landed properties rather than as an outright insolvency problem. Tan (2020) 59. On the estimate of roughly 18,000 soldiers, see Taylor in this volume. See Liv. 9.30.3 on the levy of four legions. Tan (2020) 59. Horden & Purcell (2000) 325–327, stress the importance of linking human-caused environmental change to a variety of other factors, including the nature of existing social and political regimes.

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stable than has previously been thought, and sustainable for considerable periods of time.79 Yet this view is also typically accompanied by a couple of serious caveats: farming communities could achieve stability in reasonably robust ecological situations, and provided they remained free from the demands of external agencies. As such, I am not suggesting that farmers in land distribution schemes throughout the fourth century were guaranteed to fail, nor did they all fail. Rather, a combination of factors – from the basic parameters and size of an allotment, to the costs of developing an allotment, to the complexity of land types, to state demands and forms of interference – all interacted cumulatively and contributed to an equation in which forms of agricultural development, intensification and practices that degraded soils resulted in even graver consequences than they normally would.80 As Horden and Purcell have argued, the fragility of Mediterranean ecosystems is exacerbated by “the constant intrusion on productive communities of extraneous pressures towards the redeployment of labour and environmental resources.”81 When external demands impinge upon farmers, humans cross the limits of cultivation and enter the realm of exploitation of resources. Overall, the pressures of mounting debt and the tributum system likely only served to introduce forms of competition, intensification and bad farming on Latium’s landscapes.82 Indeed, the initial practice itself of dividing land into small allotments of equal size likely only served to provoke forms of competition and zero-sum thinking amongst farmers.83 Moreover, as the urbs Roma developed, along with road-building 79

Brooke (2014) 266–267, with good bibliography on the debate about the stability of ancient farming populations. See also Horden & Purcell (2000) Ch. 8 passim. The case of the Uchucmarquinos in the Andes provides an example, though somewhat different ecologically speaking, of farmers who purposefully kept plots small in order to limit erosion. However, they were also defined by high amounts of interdependence between farms, and they were relatively free from the impositions and types of competition that defined farming in the lowland regions. See Brush (1977). Shanin (1972) 86, also notes the Russian peasantry’s strategy of partitioning land into smaller lots. See now Viglietti (2020) 146, on the archaeological evidence for small-plot farming in Archaic Rome and the viability of the two-iugera allotments reported in our sources for the fourth century BCE. 80 It is once again important to point out that, while I stress the financial burdens to small farms associated with the growth of a military war-making apparatus, Bernard 2018a also highlights the potential financial burdens imposed in this period due to building projects at Rome and the rise of an urban sector with its own demands for labour. 81 Horden & Purcell (2000) 334. 82 Hughes (2014) 124, 128, 226–267, on the pressures of a tax system on agriculture. 83 Viglietti (2020) 146–148, seems to assume, in defence of the viability of small allotments, that a farmer would need to “maximize production” and wheat crops on his small farm, and then make use of public lands to supply the crucial other subsistence strategies and aspects of diet that their survival depended on. But our narrative for the fourth century seems to make it clear that small farmers were clamouring for more equitable access to the ager publicus – suggesting that this lack of access had a destabilizing effect on them. Crucially, if use of ager publicus was not reckoned as part of an individual’s property assessed by the census, this might have driven individuals to also maximize their use of as much public land as they could  – accelerating competition. There are complaints about ager publicus in 387 (Liv. 6.5.1–4), 385 (6.14.11) and increasingly from 6.35.5 and continuing through 6.42 (covering the years 375–367).

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projects like the Via Appia, such developments possibly served to hurl the countryside and city into competition.84 Forms of road-building are also environmentally costly and damaging to local ecologies.85 Stone quarries, forest removal and other forms of the extraction of resources all contribute to an ecological drain on communities that can counteract the benefits of the road.86 For the small farmer, the results of conquest were potentially devastating, and Livy’s narrative offers us glimpses of moments when the paradigm of conquest and land distribution became explosive. Both the colonization movement of the later fourth century as well as the secessio militum of 342 and the Third Secession of the plebs in 287 may have had much to do with the problem of land distribution and sustainable agriculture.87 It is likely not a coincidence that the first notice of aedilician prosecutions of faeneratores appears in 344, exactly around the time that the debt problem of the first half of the fourth century reached a crescendo.88 As highlighted earlier, in 352, a board of mensarii had been created in a state initiative to deal with the debt crisis, and Livy indicates that a large amount of people lost their property as a result.89 By 342, the secessio militum occurred as soldiers revolted over the question of land, and interestingly, they seized not just any lands but those of the highest quality in the agriculturally productive region of Campania. In the same year, the lex Genucia made it unlawful to lend at interest, though this was clearly ignored.90 And the simple modifications of the rates of interest that we find in Livy’s notices on debt throughout the rest of the century could not have done much to alleviate the problems farmers faced. Indeed, to my mind, the Roman elite’s decision to expand out of Latium for the first time and enter into the regional affairs of Campania was likely due in part to the problems it was dealing with agriculturally.

84

On the city as a consumer drain on the countryside, generally, see Finley (1973); Morley (1996); and Bernard (2018a) 44, now highlighting the link between Rome’s central Italian conquests and the demand for building materials. 85 On the Via Appia, cf.  Platner-Ashby (1927) 174–176; Staveley (1959); MacBain (1980) 356–372; Frederiksen (1984) 213–215; Humm (2005) 12–26, for a good bibliographic overview. More recently, Bernard (2018a) 119, argues that the road was a real boon for the plebs. However, Hughes (2014) 180, reminds us that ‘roads did not lie lightly on the countryside’. Overall, they amplified erosion and the impact of humans on the natural environment. 86 See Frank (1973) 56–57, on the problems of deforestation. Thommen (2009) 86; Bernard (2018a) 35, on deforestation and flooding. See Aldrete (2007) 15, for a list of known floods and discussion of the sources. 87 For the secessio militum of 342, Liv. 7.38.5–42.7; for the ‘Third Secession of the Plebs’, Liv. Per. 11. Both of these episodes are notoriously difficult to understand and we should be cautious not to press the interpretation here too far. 88 Liv. 7.28.9. 89 Liv. 7.21.5–6. See Oakley (1997) 660, for discussion. 90 For the lex Genucia, Liv. 7.42.1. Forsythe (2005) 262, labels it a temporary measure to relieve indebtedness, which was then ignored.

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VI Changing Circumstances of the Later Fourth Century However, the 330s do seem to have constituted an important decade for policy innovation on the part of the Roman state elite. The landmark settlement of 338 BCE after the Latin War saw the Roman state begin the policy of extending gradated forms of citizenship – and with it, the tax burden – to conquered peoples in Latium and Campania, creating a now more extensive resource extraction apparatus that likely alleviated some of the pressure of the tributum for Roman citizens.91 The settlement and the extension of citizenship to others was not so much concerned with integration but the extraction of new resources on which the Roman state’s warfare depended.92 Tan in particular has recently highlighted the extraordinary extractive capabilities of the new alliance system after 338, noting the ways in which the Romans sought to shift the burden of tributum to others. As he argues, the different statuses that emerged from the settlement were part of a careful fiscal accounting of both tributum and manpower: some communities were more valued for their landed wealth and therefore more likely to be made full citizens or cives sine suffragio; while other communities were more valuable for their manpower and left as socii who furnished their own pay for their soldiers and thus kept that burden from hitting Roman farmers.93 Thus, the Roman military machine grew in size, but also grew in the complexity of its options for requisitioning resources, and the expansion of options for the Roman state possibly allowed greater leeway to respond to settlements of citizens in the tribes that showed signs of agricultural stress. The settlement of 338 therefore represents the Roman state leadership gradually learning from some of the problems of the first half of the fourth century, in part created by the initial expansion of the tribal system, and attempting to find solutions to the organization and management of landscapes and communities. The settlement demonstrates that the Romans were thinking more complexly and critically about the imposition of burdens on farming communities. Additionally, the Latin colonization movement really began in earnest with the creation of Cales in 334, and this likely represented another new solution to problems and provided a pressure-release valve for some elements of Roman society.94 In particular, 91 92 93 94

Liv. 8.14 on the settlement and its terms with various peoples. For general discussion see also Humbert (1978) 176–207; Ferenczy (1976) 97–101; Frederiksen (1984) 191–195; Cornell (1995) 347–351; Oakley (1997) 538–559; Capogrossi Colognesi (2011) 97–104; Armstrong (2016a) 286; Tan (2020). See the contributions of both Tan and Roselaar in Armstrong & Fronda (2020), with similar views on the extension of citizenship. On integration, Helm (2017) offers a cautious appraisal of how successful this process was to begin with. Tan (2020) 70–71 in particular. See the following passages of Livy for colonial foundations: Cales, 8.16.13–14; Anxur, 8.21.11; Fregellae, 8.22.2; Luceria, 9.26.3–5; Suessa, Pontiae, and Interamna Sucasina, 9.28.7–8; Alba and Sora, 10.1.1–3; Carseoli, 10.3.2; Minturnae and Sinuessa, 10.29.7–9; Castrum, Sena, and Hadria, Per. 11. Cf. Velleius Paterculus, 1.14–15, for a list of colonies that differs from Livy’s. See also Salmon (1970) 53–66, on colonies from 334 to 218 BCE; Salmon (1967), 211–13 in particular, on the strategic loca-

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the Latin colonies may have provided a place where farmer-soldiers found a second or even third chance – places as well where they were crucially relieved of the burden of paying tributum, supplying military service instead.95 The establishment of the colonies possibly mitigated the loss of farms on the part of some settlers, and made room for the gradual accretion of those farms by others, slowly stabilizing the settlements of Latium over decades. Because the colonies often had a defensive aspect to them, it also may not have made sense to fill them simply with urban poor, but rather with those who already had some experience with farming and soldiering. As such, the Latin colonies were likely not part of some grand strategic plan to acquire all of Italy, but rather one type of solution to the problems of landscape management, extraction of resources and demographic maintenance on which the Roman war-machine and its elite relied. Moreover, the Latin colonies seem to have offered settlers larger allotment sizes than the viritane allotments of other distributions in Latium. As well, recent archaeological work has questioned the extent to which the Latin colonies embodied the rigidly planned and centuriated grids of settlement imagined by earlier studies.96 Whereas the land distribution by the Roman state in the lower Pontine plain does seem to show evidence of small allotments created ex nouo through land reclamation projects, the Latin colonies may have allowed settlers not simply greater amounts of iugera to cultivate, but also greater leeway and discretion in where they located farms within a unique landscape.97 As a result, the Latin colony may have represented a more careful and thoughtful form of spoliation, one that was freer from outside impositions and burdens and less subject to a rigid and abstract plan. The key was that its link to the Roman corporate culture of military specialists and the Roman war-machine was limited to the supplying of manpower. Its landscapes and farmers likely enjoyed less interference and pressure from state demands and forms of competition. Its agricultural resources were less likely to be subject to transformation into weapons and into waste.

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tion of many of these; Gargola (1995) 51–70, on the administrative procedures. Bispham (2006) and Bradley (2006) offer important critiques of the earlier defensive view of Salmon; most recently, Pelgrom & Stek (2014). See now Tan (2020), reassessing the idea that Latin colonists were always free from paying tributum. He notes as well, however, that something in the order of 70,000 colonists were sent out between 334 and 263, allowing the state to shift these men as stipendium-earners to the status of unpaid Latins. See in particular, Pelgrom (2008) as well as the contributions and discussion in Stek & Pelgrom (2014). See Attema, De Haas & Termeer (2014) on the evidence for new settlement and land reclamation in the Pontine region. See Hughes (2014) 126, on the specific environmental problems associated with land reclamation. See Casarotto (2017) for new reconstructions of settlement dispersal in colonial landscapes; Hamel (2016) for discussion of new technology in surveying landscapes and recovering hypothetical sites.

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With these new developments of the 330’s, the further expansion of the tribal system, starting with the addition of the Maecia and Scaptia in 332, was perhaps accompanied by less struggle on the part of the newly enrolled. Those in these two new tribus could benefit from the newly formed alliance system and the start of colonization as mechanisms that spread the burdens of tributum and military service far more widely. With the Roman state gradually learning to shift the ledger of resource extraction in its favour, the newer tribules likely faced less pressure – though some of the simple conditions and financial pressures of making a farm viable still existed for many. The debt notices do seem to shrink in the second half of the fourth century as they occur with less frequency, and this may indicate that resettlement schemes became less volatile and prone to destabilization. Additionally, as Helm has pointed out, the 320’s onward seem to mark a period in which the Roman state struck a more defensive posture, during the prolonged conflict with the Samnites, as annual warfare seems to have partially abated. He has noted that the establishment of the tribus Oufentina and Falerna occurred during a period in which there seems to have been a weak preference for war and something of a lull in annual warfare.98 With new Latin colonies perhaps doing a lot of the defensive work of policing recent territorial gains, it may have made sense to once again engage in land distribution and enrolment of new tribes. With the partial abatement of warfare during this moment, and with the burdens of taxation now distributed across a wider pool of payers, the enrolment and its associated obligations perhaps no longer sat as heavily on new farmers as it had in the earliest tribal instalments. Roselaar has noted as well that these two tribes were created a good twenty-two years after the land distributions took place, and it is possible that the Roman state was increasingly recognizing that farmers needed time to establish themselves before any external demands were placed upon them.99 By 299, when the tribus Aniensis and Teretina were established, it likely that such enrolments of citizens and property did not hit farmers as hard. And once again, the simple increase in the number of tribes (and taxpaying tribules) in the overall system, as well as the shifting of a large amount of the resource burden to the alliance system and Latin colonies, had likely helped to alleviate some of the pressures of tributum. It is possible that the Roman state leadership, now a pretty firmly established patricio-­ plebeian oligarchy and meritocracy, began to question as well the usefulness of the continued implementation of viritane allotments. These allotments ceased after 299, and it would be another fifty-eight years before the tribal system would expand again in 241 with addition of the tribus Velina and Quirina.100 The fact that the Romans were able to pull together a tremendous amount of manpower in 295 to defeat a combined 98 Helm (2017) 212. 99 Roselaar (2020) 198. 100 A pattern also noted by Roselaar (2020) 198.

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coalition of Etruscans, Gauls, Umbrians, and Samnites at Sentinum is a good indication that the Roman military machine had reached the point at which its manpower resources did not require greater augmentation.101 Thus the need for viritane schemes faded a bit as Latin colonies likely performed the function of resettlement better and helped to shift the financial burden more effectively. However, not all problems for citizen-farmers seem to have perfectly ended by the opening of third century. Indeed, the Third Secession of the plebs in 287 took place after another long period of expansion and settlement in the south of Latium and down into Campania, as a result of which a total of six new tribes of citizens had been created in 332, 317 and 299. Additionally, aedilician prosecutions of illegal herding operations and those guilty of possessing too much land are once again recorded in the 290’s, shortly before the secession erupted.102 Yet again, these prosecutions, along with the paltry and negligible modifications of rates of interest for debts, ultimately do not seem to have been enough to quell the unrest amongst at least some sections of Roman society. These episodes of rebellion occur at key moments when the paradigm of land distribution followed by tribal registration, taxes and debt seem to have reached problematic levels for some, and service in the legions likely only helped to actuate the awareness of many farmer-soldiers fed up with insignificant allotment sizes, competition for public land and, perhaps in many cases, poor quality allotments.103 As such, we ought to be careful in assuming that some of the newer solutions highlighted in this section had immediate impact or an equally distributed impact on all of Rome’s farmers and resettlement schemes. Tributum still had the potential to lie heavily on Rome’s small farmers. In 293 BCE, Livy indicates that the plebs were angered when the spoils from Papirius Cursor’s successful campaigns were diverted into the treasury rather than being offered as a refund of tributum.104 So there are signs as late as the first decade of the third century that the requisitioning of the resources for war was still a thorny subject with Rome’s taxpayers, and the fact that, in the above episode, Papirius Cursor got the prestige of dedicating his temple to Quirinus in the wake of the campaigns, while the taxpayers got nothing, only demonstrates that the Roman leadership class was perhaps still narrowly focused on their leading of wars and the glory that they might win.

101 For the Battle of Sentinum, Liv. 10.27–29. 102 Liv. 10.13.14 (298 BCE): prosecution of those possessing more than that allowable limit of land; Liv. 10.23.13 (295 BCE): prosecution of the pecuarii; and Liv. 10.47.4 (292 BCE): further prosecution of pecuarii. See Roselaar (2010) 174, for discussion of these notices; more recently, Piacentin (2018). 103 Rosenstein (1999) 205; (2016) 130, on the increasing awareness of the soldiery and the importance of the economic health of Rome’s farmers. 104 Liv. 10.46.5. See also Taylor in this volume.

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VII Conclusion Land distribution as a form of spoil was not an uncomplicated reward or straightforward success in the fourth century. There were certainly problems that might be associated with this form of spoil, particularly when we incorporate a consideration of the complexity of agriculture and human response to ecosystems. As the Romans implemented reforms to the administrative and economic structure of society in the early fourth century, citizens given land in rounds of distributions found themselves enmeshed in calculative apparatuses that extracted resources from their small farms in potentially destabilizing ways. The expansion of the tribal system through land distributions was accompanied, therefore, by potentially severe problems, and the record of financial and other crises, particularly in the first half of the fourth century, indicates that learning to balance the state’s demands for resources with the gradual expansion of landed citizen-farmers was a process of trial and error. The process of striking the right balance was a long one, in which the first half of the fourth century offered severe lessons to the state leadership, and it was particularly from the 330’s onward that the Romans began to find better solutions to the management of conquests. With the colonization movement, and the settlement of 338, the Roman state leadership began to find better solutions to the management of territory and resources. Yet, the tribal installations of the second half of the fourth century were not necessarily uncomplicated episodes either, and signs of unrest do still crop up in the historical record for the period. On the elite side of things, I would suggest that the formation of war-making as the primary activity and identity of the elite in this period had to do just as much with the environmental and agricultural problems created by land distribution schemes that produced competition, the desire for more lands, and thus the need for the increasing wars and conquests through which the emergent patricio-plebeian elite learned to define and justify itself. And if we look, for example, at the temple projects just in the thirty or so years from 325–292 BCE, we can observe temples vowed or built to such deities as Quirinus (325), Salus (311), Victoria (305), Bellona (296), Jupiter Victor (295), Jupiter Stator (294) and Hercules Invictus (292) – a striking testimony to the successes and values that this corporate culture based its identity upon, and a possibly frustrating irony to those soldiers who lost farms and seceded over land and debt problems.105 Peter VanDerPuy The Ohio State University [email protected]

105 See Ziółkowski (1992) 187, for a list of the dates of temple foundations during this period.

Spoils, Land and Colonization from the Latin War to the End of the Third Samnite War Audrey Bertrand I Introduction In their narrative on the origins of Rome, Dionysius of Halicarnassus and Plutarch depict the aftermath of Romulus’ expedition against Veii as a sign for the evolution of Rome’s kingship towards a tyranny.1 Following the Roman conquest of Fidenae, Veii launched an expedition into Roman territory. After some pillaging, the Etruscan soldiers were about to return to their city when they were caught by the Roman army and defeated in front of Veii’s walls. Romulus then decided not to take the city and was content with pillaging its territory. The peace terms granted to Veii included a hundred-year truce in exchange for the confiscation of parts of the ager Veientanus by Rome.2 Romulus’ handling of these spoils created discontent, since he distributed the land himself to the soldiers, without consulting the Senate.3 According to these sources, the question of how to distribute spoils had been a pressing issue from the very beginnings of Rome, particularly when it came to land taken from enemies.4 Seven centuries later, Cicero praised Romulus’ decision, since it allowed Rome’s inhabitants to live in peace for more than forty years because they possessed enough land to cultivate.5 Livy credits Servius Tullius with a similar decision: confronted with issues concerning his legitimacy, the king decided to distribute land

1

On the evolution of Romulus’ reign towards tyranny and the mistakes associated with it, see Briquel (2018) 353–362. Two of these signs are his satisfaction after the news of the death of Titus Tatius and the attack on Fidenae without any reason. According to the author, these justify the murder and the dismemberment of Rome’s founder. 2 Liv. 1.15.1–5. 3 Plut. Rom. 27.3. 4 On this phenomenon, see Armstrong (2016a) 129–182. The author highlights how land had, by the first half of the fifth century BCE, become a more valuable good in the eyes of the Roman aristocracy. 5 Cic. De Rep. 2.14.

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taken from the Etruscans (probably during the reign of his predecessor) to the plebs, which gives the impression that there was no systematic distribution of land to citizens when it was captured.6 Historical research devoted to war spoils now constitutes a field of study both dense and dynamic, a testimony to the existence of many questions not yet solved by historians.7 Among these, the question of land alone poses a series of difficulties that modern historiography has only marginally touched, due to the peculiar features associated with confiscated land. One could, for example, understand the episode of the management of Tarquinius Superbus’ possessions as confirming the particular status of land taken from the enemy.8 Faced with the necessity of managing the property of Rome’s last king, the Senate chose different solutions according to the types of royal property. The people were authorized to plunder all movable property that once belonged to Tarquinius (Liv. 2.5.1–2). On the other hand, there were difficulties with the handling of his landed property. The Senate first decided to dedicate the land to Mars, thus inaugurating the Campus Martius. Then, not knowing what to do with the grain harvest produced by this land, the senators ordered it to be thrown into the Tiber (Liv. 2.5.2–3). Without, of course, accepting the historical reality of all events of the regal period as authors of the second and first century transmit them, the legendary aspects of which have already been highlighted by many historians, it is worth to note that the question of the division of land after important military victories was clearly a potential source of socio-political conflict in the eyes of the Romans. Closer in time to our enquiry, the capture of Veii at the beginning of the fourth century is an important case study concerning the question of the management of land taken from the enemy. More specifically, it is also important in regard to the general’s authority over this category of spoils. The management of the immense wealth generated by the defeat of Veii was the main reason for the considerable difficulties that Camillus had to cope with after his victory.9 On the eve of the city’s fall, the dictator swore to consecrate a tenth of the plunder to Apollo (Liv. 5.21.1–2). However, the Senate’s decision to allow all citizens – soldiers and civilians – to pillage Veii put Camillus in a delicate situation, since he thus lost all control over the plunder.10 In addition to movable plunder, it was soon remembered that his oath had also comprised the land

6 7 8 9 10

Liv. 1.46.1. Auliard (2006) chap. 4, par. 42, emphasises that no conquest was attributed to Servius. See notes 26–34 for the main references on that question. For a full discussion of this episode, see Liou-Gille (1992) 161–164. On the Camillus legend, see Bruun (2000); Coudry (2001). See also Linke (2014) 393–395 on the ambivalence of Camillus’ victories in the sources. Anticipating the amount of plunder, Camillus’ first reaction was to assign to the Senate the burden of its management. Two senatorial factions opposed each other in this regard: one advocating that all citizens should have the right to pillage (including civilians), another proposing that only soldiers should be allowed to benefit from plunder, and that their pay be provided from the rest of the plunder, now property of the Roman state (Liv. 5.20.1–3.)

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of the Etruscan city and that religious duty obliged all Romans to fulfil the oath sworn by Camillus (Liv. 5.25.6–10). This complex episode shows the new political and social issues that emerged throughout the conquest of Italy. The responsibility of the victorious general in managing plunder, including land, is paradoxically highlighted by Camillus’ attitude with regard to a unique historical situation: the combination of a vast amount of plunder amassed, both in movable assets and in land, the necessity to pay the soldiers, and the authorization granted to civilians to participate in pillaging, acknowledging their right to benefit from the victory. By analysing the foundation of colonies in the context of the general’s management of spoils, this paper aims at understanding the role of imperium holders in the establishment of colonies and, more generally, how the management of land distributions by Rome can help us understand the conquest of Italy. II From Conquest to Colonization: Proposals, Demands and Achievements The link between conquest and colonization hardly needs to be demonstrated. The gradual domination of Rome over the Italian peninsula was accompanied by the foundation of many colonies, as well as individual grants of land. The literary sources, Livy above all, illustrate this phenomenon. Sending colonists to the confiscated land after military victories was one of the ways in which the Roman state could use the conquered territories that became ager publicus and materialized Roman domination.11 A case in point is the foundation of the Latin colony of Alba Fucens in 304, following a successful military campaign that year.12 The revolt of the Aequian population in 302 shows that the territory was not entirely pacified: the colony had to defend itself and Livy summarizes the situation by stating that it stood as a fortress (arx) in the middle of hostile territory (Liv. 10.1.7). Two additional campaigns were necessary to suppress 11

12

Stek (2018a) reminds that an overly monolithic view of colonization as a process designed solely to give land to the poorest Roman citizens is now outdated. Actually, historiographical debates have long underlined the variety of motivations behind colonial foundations – see for instance the case of Brundisium: Heurgon (1969); Lamboley (1996); Aprosio (2008) – and have shown that they cannot be reduced to strategic and/or agrarian objectives. Nevertheless, the questioning of the impact of Roman colonization on the Italian agrarian landscape and its evolution should not lead to minimising systematically the trauma that the settlement of thousands of colonists could represent for the indigenous communities, as the case of Alba Fucens suggests, where 6000 families had been sent: Pelgrom (2018). In the Aequan territory, the willingness of the Romans to exploit fishing resources rather than carrying out a large cultivation programme does not mean that there was no appropriation of a territory, accompanied by a possible massacre of the population. In that sense, it would be hazardous to downplay the impact of Roman colonization on the way the land was worked, even if colonization did not necessarily mean land division. Diod. Sic. 20.101.5; Liv. 10.1; Vell. 1.14. The chronology provided by Livy has been questioned: the campaign could have taken place in 308 and the foundation of the colony in 307. On this question, see Liberatore (2004) 13–15.

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the Aequian rebellion, that of the dictator C. Iunius Bubulcus in 302 (Liv. 10.1.7–9) and that of M. Valerius Corvus two years later (Liv. 10.9.7). From the perspective of engaged reflection, it can be fruitful to question the systematicity presented in the previous narrative: did territorial gain obtained as a result of successful military operations always trigger a process of colonization, be it through individual grants or through the foundation of a colony? This question must also be accompanied by another one: did every territorial gain result in a request from the plebs to obtain land through distribution, regardless of whether this request was actually granted or not? It is thus necessary for this investigation to address the question of land confiscations by the Roman state during the conquest of Italy, as well as that of the increase in ager publicus.13 During the period from 396 to 140, 46 confiscations occurred, which provided the Roman state with land for new settlers. Land confiscation was very often followed by land distribution through the founding of colonies or through individual grants. This of course underlines the fact that the Roman state could only distribute land if it had some at its disposal, but also that territorial conquests were expected to be followed by a distribution of land to the citizens.14 For the period between 396 to 140, only about ten cases of land confiscation were not accompanied by land distributions or, if they were, these occurred much later.15 The most striking aspect of land confiscations, whether or not they were followed by distributions, is the end of agrarian plebiscites after 367 by the tribunes of the plebs. It was as if the matter, without disappearing, was no longer at the forefront of plebeian concerns and as if the Licinio-Sextian compromise had created the conditions for perennial satisfaction. We have to keep in mind that the lex de modo agrorum, part of the leges Liciniae Sextiae, by restricting to 500 iugera private land exploitation, could have

13 14

15

The work of Saskia Roselaar allows us to outline the main features of this process during the republic. Roselaar (2010), appendix ‘The location of ager publicus’. The first reckoning allows to identify around 40 operations of land confiscation between 396 and 140 (Roselaar 2010), of which only about ten were not followed by land distribution. It is necessary to stress that many points must be bypassed in order to come to precise estimations, notably with regard to a better comprehension of the role of victorious generals in managing conquered land. Certain confiscations are not mentioned by the sources but can be inferred through other means (foundation of new tribes, archaeological evidence). Moreover, certain colonial foundations occurred later rather immediately after conquest. An exhaustive study is currently under way. It should be noted, however, that the frequency of colonial operations highlighted here does not necessarily presage its impact on the conquered territories. Recently, Terrenato (2019), chap. 6, insisted on the low number of settlers and the consequent weak changes they induced on the ground. This is obviously an important issue, but we cannot deal with it in the frame of this article. This is the case for the following operations: 338: confiscations in Tibur and Praeneste (Liv. 8.14.9); 305: Paeligni (Diod. Sic. 20.90.3); 295: Umbria (Roselaar 2010, 313); 272: Apulia (Roselaar 2010, 313); 241: Sarsina (Chevallier 1980, 45; Roselaar 2010, 319); 200: Etruria (Roselaar 2010, 322; 177: Ligures Statielli (Roselaar 2010, 326; Corti 2004, 81). The author only takes into account distributions that took place within five years following the confiscation.

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facilitated future redistributions. It also seems that there was a dividing line between the early Republic, when territorial gains led to claims in order to obtain land grants, and on the other hand the middle Republic, when distributions continued to exist but without clear demands associated with them. In light of this, two hypotheses can be proposed. The first hypothesis is that the sources reflect a historical reality: that from the second half of the fourth century onward, the plebs exerted less pressure to obtain land. The second one would be that ancient authors stopped reporting the agrarian demands of the plebs from the moment that the conflict of the orders ceased to be a relevant structural element in Roman political life, according to them. What is certain, though, is that Rome did proceed with confiscations after the vote of the leges Liciniae Sextiae. A chronological analysis of colonization after the Latin War and during the Second and Third Samnite War, through some significant cases, offers a few leads to a more accurate insight into the land question after 367. The Roman victory at Trifanum in 340 (Liv. 8.11.13–14) and the consequent terms imposed exemplify the overall pattern. On this occasion, Roman victory involved the confiscation of land from the territory of the Latins and the Capuans. It was immediately followed by land distributions to the plebs in so-called viritane distributions, although the number of beneficiaries is unknown. The size of the allotments indicated by the sources is 2.75 iugera for Latium and three iugera for plots in the ager Falernus.16 Colonial foundations are another type of land distribution by Rome, such as that of the aforementioned example of Alba Fucens. Such a chain of events is common, but it only offers an imperfect representation of the variety of situations encountered during the conquest. Confiscations followed by distributions present various features. First, there is a difference between colonial operations following plebeian claims, and other episodes, where they do not appear. In 334, a Latin colony was founded at Cales on the territory of the Ausones, dispatching 2500 families (Liv. 8.16.13). However, according to Livy, this decision had been taken in order to anticipate the wishes of the plebs (ut beneficio praeuenirent desiderium plebis), indicating that the consuls were expecting demands from the plebs for the granting of land,17 conquered as a result of the fall of the main Ausonian city.18 Thus, the policy they chose was to grant the plebs what it wanted, even before it had voiced any demand. On another occasion, Livy reports that land distributions were followed by complaints from the plebs because they had been deemed stingy (340, Liv. 8.12.9). These two examples related to the Latin War show with strong 16 17

18

Livy mentions that the difference in size was due to the distance from Rome. The allusion to a demand expected from the plebeians recalls the recurrence of agrarian petitions made by the plebeians and agrarian plebiscites of the fifth and the first half of the fourth century. The allusion to a demand expected from the plebeians recalls the recurrence of agrarian petitions made by the plebeians and agrarian plebiscites of the fifth and the first half of the fourth century. On this topic, see Lanfranchi (2015). According to Petrucci (1989) 72, Livy’s phrase means that the plebs had already voiced demands.

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probability that Livy’s succinct accounts only very partially reflect the debates that surely accompanied each colonial process, and, therefore the critical nature of this topic. It is important to underline that it is quite unlikely that land confiscated by Rome after a military campaign was distributed in its entirety. This is generally not attested by the sources, but the succession of colonial foundations on a given territory implies that not all the land was distributed at once.19 Several colonial foundations took place during the Samnite Wars. In his narrative of the vote for the lex Ogulnia de auguribus et pontificibus in 300 (Liv. 10.6–9), Livy introduces the episode by underlining the peace that Rome enjoyed, both at home and abroad. In order to explain the peacefulness of Roman political life at the time, he highlights the tranquillity of the plebs, which had been relieved and satisfied by the numerous colonial foundations (Liv. 10.6.3: Romae quoque plebem quietam exoneratam deducta in colonias multitudo praestabat). Between 338 and 291, no less than sixteen colonies had been founded in Italy, without any mention of agrarian demands in the sources. However, this absence of agrarian plebiscites or plebeian requests must not be understood as a sign of plebeian (or even more generally, Roman) lack of interest in the fate of territories conquered from the enemy. Livy’s short remark on the peacefulness of the plebs indicates the importance of that question in the political debate of the last third of the fourth century and at the beginning of the third. In this perspective, the events of the year 296 deserve to be examined in detail. Two Roman citizen colonies were founded on the territory of the Aurunci: Minturnae and Sinuessa. However, the praetors initially had difficulties finding candidates, a rare occurrence in Livy’s narrative (Liv. 10.21.10). The area involved in the colonial endeavour of 296 had already been the object of a land distribution, first on the occasion of the foundation of Cales in 334, and then Suessa Aurunca in 313. However, in 296, citizens eligible for registration claimed that they had the impression they would be sent to enemy territory to perform garrison duty rather than to cultivate a plot of land. These two colonies happened to be located near the Samnites. Was that the reason for the Roman citizens’ unwillingness to go? The situation had not been different when Suessa Aurunca was founded (313). During the Second Samnite War, the Romans had suffered a defeat at Lautulae (315), which had caused the Aurunci and the Campanians to revolt. Roman vengeance against the Aurunci was severe and they were massacred (Liv. 9.25.9).20 Three colonies had been established as a result: Suessa Aurunca, Saticula and Interamna Lirenas (313–312). The sources do not mention difficulties in recruiting settlers.21

19 20 21

See Roselaar 2010, appendix ‘The location of ager publicus’ for various examples (e. g. 340, Privernum; 295, Umbria; 291, Apulia). On these events, see Cornell (1995) 354. Helm (2017) 211, 218 (with previous bibliography) emphasizes the military aspects of this colonization, which had the purpose to consolidate Rome’s position in the region. We also have to keep in mind that allied (former) soldiers could have been invited to join the Latin colonies.

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Given that there were sufficient people willing to settle there in 313–12, what should be made of the arguments presented by Livy regarding the unwillingness of citizens to register as settlers for the two colonies of 296? War with the Samnites had broken out again in 298 and the year 296 was particularly busy in terms of military activity.22 As we have seen, the potential danger for citizens settling in areas located near enemies was not a novelty at the beginning of the third century. Should this be interpreted as a new lack of interest among Roman citizens concerning the acquisition of new land? This seems quite unlikely. If we compare Cales, Suessa Aurunca and Saticula on the one hand, and Minturnae and Sinuessa on the other, the colonies probably differed from each other in terms of the size of the allotments distributed. Although data are lacking for most colonies established before the Second Punic War, it is well attested that the size of allotments in Latin colonies was in general greater than what individuals received in a Roman colony.23 After this first analysis, it seems that the question of distributing land taken from defeated enemies was a constant issue in Rome after the dissolution of the Latin League and with the increased momentum of conquest.24 Apart from the identity of those distributing land, of those making demands in that regard, or of those benefitting from distributions, it must be emphasized that the question of the management of newly acquired land never disappeared from the public debate.25 Furthermore, Roman citizens never lost interest in the topic either. Yet the desire for more land alone is not enough to explain Roman expansion in Italy. Many other factors came into play and the agrarian question must not be reduced to a plebeian problem that the Roman state, understood as a compact entity, had to face. If the question of the fate of the conquered lands never ceased to interest Roman citizens, even in the absence of agrarian plebiscites, understanding its place in the political debate, and its role in the progressive domination of Rome over Italy, rests on the identification of the forces at work in the management of the territories that came under Roman rule. Colonization was one of the possible uses of confiscated land; the colonial process allows us to question more specifically the role of the victorious generals, artisans of the conquest, in Roman expansion and the domination of Italy. This question of land as a spoil of war and, therefore, of the relationship of the generals to colonial operations will be discussed in the next section. 22 23

24 25

Cornell (1995) 359–362. See Von Hesberg (1985); Roselaar (2009). The numbers provided by the sources for the Republican era all point in this direction. E.g. for Roman colonies: Terracina (2 iug.) Liv. 8.21.11; Mutina (5 iug.) and Parma (8 iug.) Liv. 39, 55, 7; Saturnia (10 iug.) Liv. 40.19.1. For Latin colonies: Copia (20 iug.) Liv. 35.9.7–8; Vibo (15 iug.) Liv. 35.40.5–6; Bononia (50 iug.) Liv. 37.57.7–8; Aquileia (50 iug.) Liv. 40.34.2–3. For earlier periods, research on agrarian demands and the action of tribunes of the plebs has put emphasis on this point; see notably Lanfranchi (2015), par. 46. Helm (2017) 207 insists on the issue of land distribution as a major political lever for the second half of the fourth century, within the framework of “the emergence of a very competitive approach, focused on the immediate and individual exploitation of potential opportunities to gain electoral support, in order to monopolise the magistracies”.

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III The General and the Land: Colonial Processes in Light of War Spoils The Roman conquest was a complex matter, and involved mostly individual action, rather than collective. Surely, the perennial character of the Senate gives the impression of a continuous endeavour spread over centuries. However, this only artificially unifies the string of military actions, which were above all undertaken individually by one or several men in command.26 These of course intended to achieve personal benefits from the military expeditions in which they were the leaders. The magistrates who commanded armies in the service of the res publica played a prominent role in Roman expansion and in managing spoils of war, since every victory allowed the Roman commander to acquire plunder. The management of war spoils has been the object of an intense scholarly debate, in which disagreements are numerous. It is nonetheless generally agreed that land was thought of as a category of spoils.27 Many historical enquiries have tried to understand to what extent the victorious general could manage war spoils at his own discretion. For a long time, the dominant communis opinio in scholarship followed Shatzman’s view, according to which the victorious magistrate could dispose of plunder as he saw fit, without any legal constraint.28 Earlier, Bona had insisted on the binding relationship between the general and the populus. Indeed, the latter had ownership of the plunder while accepting that it was placed under the authority of an imperium holder. This magistrate was free to dispose of it, as long as this was done in the interest of the res publica.29 Another, parallel topic of investigation concerns the definition of praeda and manubiae. The idea that manubiae referred to money gained from selling praeda as proposed by Mommsen has been thoroughly rebutted by historians in the twentieth century.30 Some scholars have proposed that manubiae referred to the general’s share of plunder after the triumph,31 while others insisted on the meaning of manubiae as part of a whole, the praeda. Manubiae would have been all the goods that were not pillaged by the soldiers individually and which thus fell into the hands of the general and the Roman people.32 In both cases, it is noteworthy that the term manubiae is distinguished from praeda and that both categories were entirely placed under the authority of the general, at the expense of the soldiers.

26 27 28 29 30 31 32

On this issue, see Terrenato’s 2019 monography, which emphasizes the role of “family agendas” in Roman expansion. Vallat’s reflections on the divergent interests of the Roman gentes in Campania are also essential on this subject (Vallat 1983, 218–223). On this topic, see Churchill (1999), in particular 85–7; Coudry (2009b). Shatzman (1972). Bona (1960). Mommsen (1887) 241. Bona (1960) 149–150; Shatzman (1972) 188. Churchill (1999) 93.

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Recent works agree that the victorious magistrate or promagistrate had full authority over manubiae on the battlefield, but that it was also expected of him to act in the public interest, since managing plunder was not the same as owning it.33 However, this assertion obscures the great variety of possible situations, since a victorious military leader could use manubiae in many different ways. This included saving the money in order to undertake a future project. Some literary sources support the stance that the general’s authority over the way in which he wanted to use the plunder could not be contested,34 although modern historiography has amply demonstrated the difficulty of interpreting most of the available texts.35 Furthermore, we may conclude that there were various means (including legal ones) for the winner to use the spoils for his personal benefit. Organizing games, dedicating a temple, generously rewarding officers and centurions, distributing a donativum to soldiers and citizens, all these options were acutely relevant in the construction of a political career. In terms of plunder, the question of land is of particular importance here. Territories which belonged to defeated enemies were considered war spoils of remarkable importance by the Roman state.36 In this regard, the historical and historiographical impact of the capture of Veii and its territory is particularly telling (Liv. 5.24.4–11). However, land as a category of spoils causes some difficulties to historians, who frequently stress its specific character.37 This chapter does not allow us to address this issue; rather, it will look at the practice concerning colonization in relation to the management of spoils. Indeed, if we accept that the victorious general was responsible for managing plunder and that land taken from the enemy was part of this, we must necessarily address the role of military leaders in colonial foundations.

33 34

35 36

37

This is the opinion of Churchill (1999); Sidebottom (2005); Richardson (2008); Wolters (2008); Rosenstein (2011). Vogel (1954) s. v. praeda, col. 1200–1213 and Shatzman (1972) gather the evidence. Among the significant texts are Cat. fr. 173; Liv. 36.36.2; Cic. Leg. agr. 1.12. Shatzman’s main argument is to show that the absence of indisputable evidence of a trial for peculatus in the specific context of the misappropriation of spoils is a very strong indicator of the general’s authority over spoils. See Tarpin (2009) 81–82 for a short synthesis. For example: Shatzman (1972) 177: “Booty was an important source of income for Roman soldiers, officers, generals and the state itself. The ager publicus of the Roman people, a special category of booty, was augmented during the conquest of Italy by the Roman army”; Erdkamp (2011) 112: “During the mid-Republic, land was seen as one of the major spoils of war.” Two arguments by Vogel and Shatzman seem to represent this. Vogel (1953) col. 1205 supposes that land was a “special case” in regards to the assertion, wrong according to him, that the ownership of plunder was public. Shatzman (1972) 182 also seems embarrassed by Cicero’s passage according to which land was part of manubiae (Cic. Leg. agr. 2.53). More recently, in the introduction of the volume they directed, Coudry & Humm (2009), introduction, think that land and slaves were two distinct categories of plunder and that they deserve to be treated in a distinct manner.

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IV The General and the Land: Case-Studies and Their Limits It must first be said that the sources only very rarely mention land distributions overseen directly by the imperium holder, immediately after the end of hostilities. A few instances do exist, for example when dictator Q. Fabius distributed land to his soldiers after his victory over the Samnites near Nola (Diod. Sic. 19.101). Several other examples can be cited. The first one concerns the foundation of the colony of Cales in 334. It is necessary to go back to 336 to understand the context of this operation. During the consulship of L. Papirius Crassus and K. Duilius, the year began with a war against the Ausones whose capital was located at Cales (Liv. 8.16.1). Allied to the Sidicini, they seemed to have been defeated rather quickly by the consular army and had to seek shelter behind their city walls. Yet, the Senate decided to continue hostilities and sought to favour the election of M. Valerius Corvus as consul in order that he might lead another campaign against the Ausones.38 Livy, without providing any further detail, mentions that the Roman prisoner who helped M. Valerius Corvus take the city was named M. Fabius. It was a quick and victorious operation, which allowed the consul to achieve a triumph ex senatus consulto, before another campaign against the Sidicini by both consuls allowed his colleague M. Atilius Regulus to celebrate a triumph as well. The absence of both consuls led to the appointment of L. Aemilius Mamercinus as dictator in Rome, so that he could oversee the comitia. T. Veturius and Sp. Postumius, the elected consuls for 334, then immediately proposed the foundation of a colony at Cales. The next year, a senatus consultum decreed that a colony of 2500 families was to be established and it was founded under the authority of a triumviral commission composed of K. Duilius, T. Quinctius and M. Fabius. Several figures and families thus intervened within two years and inside a restricted territory, that of the Ausones and their capital, Cales: L. Papirius, K. Duilius, M. Valerius Corvus, T. Veturius, Sp. Postumius, T. Quinctius and M. Fabius. Their intervention is interesting for several reasons. First, the consuls of 335, both holding triumphs, do not seem to have taken part in the colonial process, since Livy mentions that it were the consuls elected for 334 who proposed to the Senate to send settlers to Cales. Moreover, only two people are named twice: K. Duilius, consul in 336 and victorious in the first campaign against Cales, along with M. Fabius. The first one is the prisoner that helped M. Valerius Corvus. It is difficult to identify him, but he may be M. ­Fabius

38

The Senate would have tried to favour the election of one of the best military leaders of his generation. M. Valerius Corvus famously obtained his cognomen during his time as military tribune in 349, when he volunteered to fight a duel against a Gallic opponent. A raven landed on his helmet and helped him to overcome his adversary (Liv. 7.26.1–5). After this, he celebrated a triumph against the Volsci in 346 (Liv. 7.27.8) and against the Samnites in 343 (Liv. 7.28.39). Livy depicts him as dictator in 342 and managing to solve the crisis resulting from the soldiers’ mutiny in Campania (Liv. 7.40.7–14). The consulship of 335 was his fourth.

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Ambustus (cos. 360, 356, 354).39 A M. Fabius is also present among the members of the triumviral commission tasked with founding the colony. It remains uncertain whether the prisoner and the triumvir are the same person and, therefore, it is difficult to draw any conclusion on the fact that a M. Fabius is mentioned twice. However, we can assume with more certainty that the presence of K. Duilius among the triumviral commission in 334 is linked to the military operation against Cales in 336, for which he had been responsible. The way triumviral commissions were appointed is not known with any certainty for the fourth century. According to Petrucci, it is possible that the triumvirs were appointed by the Senate, or that it proposed candidates who would then be elected by the comitia, presided by the consuls or the praetors.40 In the case of the foundation of the colony of Cales, Livy mentions the joint action of the consuls of 334 (who proposed the endeavour), as well as that of the Senate. One hypothesis would be to see the participation of K. Duilius as based on his knowledge of the territory and his plebeian origins, features likely to have appeased social and political tensions that existed at the time.41 Given the role played by the triumvirs in allotting the land, a second hypothesis, which does not exclude the first one, would be to see the appointment of K. Duilius as an acknowledgement by the Senate and the consuls of his military service in 336 and of his active participation in the conquest of new territory. The absence of M. Valerius Corvus among the colony’s founders is the most surprising feature in this episode. He was the commander who captured Cales, took plunder from it (praeda capta est; Liv. 8.16.10) and left a garrison to hold the town. Yet Livy’s narrative depicts him as playing no part whatsoever in the colonial process. The foundation of the colony of Saticula some twenty years later should be examined in relation with the events of 334. According to Velleius Paterculus, the foundation took place in 320 (Vell. Pat. 1.14.4–5), while Festus dates it to 313 and also provides the name of the triumvirs (Festus p. 458 L): M. Valerius Corvus, D. Iunius Scaeva and P. Fulvius Longus. Although Livy does not mention the foundation, he provides the background (Liv. 9.21–22). In 316, the dictator L. Aemilius and his magister equitum L. Fulvius were besieging Saticula and faced both the attack of the townspeople and that of the Samnites who came to defend the city. They routed the Samnites and transferred command of the army to dictator Q. Fabius and his magister equitum Q. Aulius Cerretanus. These continued the siege and the city surrendered to the Romans in 315, after the Samnites decided not to defend it.

39 40 41

Another M. Fabius Ambustus was magister equitum in 322 (Liv. 8.38.14), but is difficult to give him this rank, since he must have been relatively old at this time. He could be a son whose career would otherwise be unknown (Broughton 1951, 150). Petrucci (1989) 87. Weigel (1985) 226. His fellow consul in 336 was a patrician, which could be an argument for the choice of K. Duilius over L. Papirius.

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The protagonists mentioned by the sources reveal meaningful choices. First, it is noteworthy that two members of the gens Fulvia are present, the magister equitum of 316 and the triumvir of 313. Since P. Fulvius Longus is otherwise unknown, Weigel proposed to alter the text of Festus and to rather identify him as L. Fulvius Corvus, the magister equitum of 316 and consul of 322, who had celebrated a triumph over the Samnites.42 If this proposition is accepted, the presence of L. Fulvius Corvus in the triumviral commission gains particular significance. It is not unlikely that the events of 313 should be considered related to those of 322. The first victory of L. Fulvius Corvus over the Samnites, followed by a triumph, did not lead to any land distribution, since the defeat of the Caudine Forks of 321 inaugurated a period of intense political and military crisis in Rome. Indeed, the foundations of Luceria in 314 (Liv. 9.26.1–5) and of Saticula in 313 were the first in about fifteen years.43 It is thus relevant to ask whether the participation of L. Fulvius Corvus in the colonial process of 313 was a way for him to play a role in the distribution of Samnite territories, a region in which he had been active before, specifically by the time of his victory in 322. Yet, neither Livy’s narrative nor the Fasti Triumphales give any topographical indication regarding the campaign led by the consuls of 322. There exists nonetheless a hint concerning this. When Livy is describing the hesitation of his sources regarding the identity of those who triumphed in 322 (Liv. 8.39.16), he reports that certain authors attribute to Fabius (probably Q. Fabius rather than M. Fabius, the magister equitum) a victorious campaign in Apulia from which he brought back an immense amount of plunder. This would be a strong indication that L. Fulvius Corvus operated in Samnite territory. In addition to this, the presence of M. Valerius Corvus among the triumviral commission is also worthy of examination. As seen previously, his responsibility in the Roman victory of 335 and thus the possibility of founding a colony at Cales is widely mentioned in the sources. However, his involvement in the colonial process does not seem to be attested. Is it possible to see his participation in the colonization of Saticula some twenty years later as an extension of his action at Cales and the surrounding area? Both cities are only about 30 kilometres apart from each other and the land settled at Saticula was probably not far from the territory of Cales. If we go back in time, M. Valerius Corvus had already celebrated a triumph over the Samnites in 342, after having won a victory near Suessula (Liv. 7.38.3). A somewhat similar situation existed for the colony of Fregellae, founded in 328. The triumvirs responsible for the foundation are not known, but the personality of one of the consuls of that year is noteworthy. C. Plautius had played a key role in the decisive victory of 329 against Privernum after a revolt led by Vitruvius Vaccus (Liv. 8.20.7). 42 43

Weigel (1985) 227. Liv. 8.39.16 mentions the uncertainty regarding the identity of those who celebrated a triumph: the consuls of 322 or the dictator M. Fabius. The Fasti Triumphales mention the triumph of both consuls, L. Fulvius Curvus and Q. Fabius Maximus Rullianus. In 328, the colony of Fregellae was founded (Liv. 8.22.1–2).

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For two decades, members of the gens Plautia had regularly held important positions in Rome and their presence at the head of the Roman state had almost always coincided with campaigns directed towards the south, each time involving the city of Privernum.44 The interests of the Plautii in Southern Latium, close to their region of origin, are clear. It is very likely, as Terrenato has shown, that the gens Plautia aimed at bringing the city among its clientela. The foundation of the colony of Fregellae, located only 30 kilometres away fits rather nicely in this picture. This foundation took place after a truce with the Samnites in 341 forbade the Romans from being present on the left bank of the Liris. In 329, Privernum became a praefectura and its inhabitants received civitas sine suffragio.45 Besides, the property of senators who had defected seems to have been confiscated, since the Roman Senate ordered them to settle beyond the Tiber (Liv. 8.20.6–9). In this complex picture, it seems relatively clear that the establishment of a colony at Fregellae must have been favoured by the action of P. Plautius Proculus, who was taking advantage of a triumph by a member of his gens in 329. Moreover, Proculus’ consulship of 328 allowed him to influence the choice of the triumvirs. Whereas Anxur (Terracina) received 300 settlers in 328, probably tasked with controlling Privernum,46 the colonization of Fregellae offered Proculus a much bigger amount of land to distribute, which represented a second important reservoir of clients in addition to Privernum. In certain cases, the identity of those involved in the colonial process is less clear, but it is nonetheless obvious that generals tried to intervene. Two Latin colonies were founded in 313–312, Suessa Aurunca and Interamna Lirenas, both located in the territory of the Ausones/Aurunci. This was made possible by the victorious campaign led by the two consuls of 314, C. Sulpicius Longus and M. Poetelius Libo (Liv. 9.25.1–8).47 Apparently encouraged by the Roman defeat at Lautulae, the Ausones had revolted and triggered the arrival of the two consuls after capturing Sora. The treason of the aristocratic families from the three main Ausonian cities, Vescia, Minturnae and Ausona, allowed the Romans to prevail without a fight. This led to the extermination of the

44 Terrenato (2014) 49–51. The author mentions that out of five consulships held by members of the gens Plautia between 358 and 329, four corresponded with political and military matters involving Privernum. 45 Festus, s. v. praefectura. Humbert (1978) 198–199 showed that the granting of the ciuitas sine suffragio to Privernum was in no way a reward despite the positive presentation in the sources (Liv. 8.21; DH. 14, fr. 13; Val. Max. 6. 2.1–2; Dio Cass. 7, fr. 35.11). Tan (2020) 62–69 proposes an analysis of the ciuitas sine suffragio from the point of view of fiscal and military requirements and underlines it cannot be considered an advantageous status. 46 The following year, says Livy (8.23.2), the Samnites sought to raise against Rome Privernum, Fundi and Formiae. 47 The consuls of 314 were C. Sulpicius Longus and M. Poetelius Libo; in 313 L. Papirius Cursor and C. Iunius Bubulcus Brutus; in 312 M. Valerius and P. Decius.

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gens Ausonum.48 Such an outcome, which led Livy to describe the violence committed by the Romans against the victims, a rare occurrence in his narrative, probably freed a lot of land and put vast territories in the hands of Rome.49 Therefore, the following year, a Latin colony was founded at Suessa Aurunca, in the heart of the region that used to be controlled by the Ausones/Aurunci. In addition to this, two other colonies were founded, one on the island of Pontia which had belonged to the Volsci, and another at Interamna Lirenas: Colonies were planted in that same year at Suessa and Pontiae. Suessa had belonged to the Aurunci; Volscians had inhabited Pontiae, an island which lay within sight of their own coast. The senate also passed a resolution that a colony be sent out to Interamna Sucasina, but it was left for the next consuls, Marcus Valerius and Publius Decius, to appoint the three commissioners and send out four thousand settlers.50

The brief summary of this colonial process provided by Livy, which spread over two years, requires further comments. The Roman annalist mentions that it happened in two steps. Suessa and Pontia were founded in 313; Interamna in 312, but the decision was taken in 313. Livy seems to introduce a nuance in the details of the three foundations, since he mentions a senatus consultum for Interamna only, and not for Suessa and Pontia. It would be unwise to over-interpret this silence. Nevertheless, it gives the impression that the foundations of 313 were carried out mostly after proposals made by the consuls, and that the Senate merely agreed. Still, it remains uncertain whether the consuls who suggested establishing these colonies were in office in 314 or 313. It seems unlikely that the consuls of 313, elected by the comitia, which was presided over by one of the consuls of 314, could have proposed the establishment of two colonies without the support of their predecessors.51 We thus have here a first indication of a possible influence of the victors of 314 on the colonial process started in 313 in Suessa and Pontia.

We cannot, of course, assume on the unique basis of Livy that all the Ausones were exterminated. As Flamerie de la Chapelle (2007) has shown, the fate of the enemies does not interest the annalist in the first place and he usually provides a stereotypical account. However, the fact remains that the Roman victory over the Ausones and the massacre of a part of them necessarily freed land. 49 Following an explanation used several times by Livy, atrocities committed by Roman soldiers – hardly mentioned – are explained by the absence of the imperium holder: Flamerie de la Chapelle (2007) 97. 50 Liv. 9.28.7–8: Suessa et Pontiae eodem anno coloniae deductae sunt. Suessa Auruncorum fuerat; Uolsci Pontias, insulam sitam in conspectu litoris sui, incoluerant. Et Interamnam Sucasinam ut deduceretur colonia, senatus consultum factum est; sed triumuiros creauere ac misere colonorum quattuor milia insequentes consules M. Valerius P. Decius. 51 It can be pointed out that C. Sulpicius Longus had already been involved as consul in a matter concerning the Aurunci. In 337, when they were allied with Rome, they were attacked by the Sidicini. Despite orders from the Senate to intervene, the consuls delayed and the Aurunci were forced to leave Ausonia and seek shelter in Suessa (Liv. 8.15.1–4). 48

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Two other factors play a role in our general understanding of the events. The year 313 was marked by the election of a dictator from the gens Poetelia, C. Poetelius Libo. According to Livy, there are two traditions about his achievements. The first says that he was responsible for Roman victories in that year, the recapture of Fregellae and capture of Nola (Liv. 9.28.3–5). The second tradition states that it was decided to appoint a dictator to fix the clavus annalis while Rome was facing an epidemic. In this case, it is possible that the dictator could also have been responsible for the election of the triumvirs tasked with the foundation of Suessa and Pontia. His family ties with the victorious consul of 314, M. Poetelius Libo, could have guaranteed his involvement in the colonial process. In 312, C. Sulpicius Longus was named dictator to replace consul P. Decius Mus, who had fallen seriously ill.52 His return to power, after his consulship of 314, thus corresponded chronologically with the foundation of Interamna. The triumvirs were appointed by the consuls M. Valerius and P. Decius. Nothing is said about C. Sulpicius Longus playing a role in the colonial process. However, it is interesting to note that, according to the Fasti Triumphales, he celebrated a triumph over the Samnites in 314 (Inscr. It. XIII, p. 71).53 Neither Livy nor Diodorus Siculus mention this. Roman military operations in Samnium are depicted by Livy as being conducted by both consuls (Liv. 9.2.1–14), even though the narrative devotes more attention to C. Sulpicius and his responsibility for the final victory.54 If the historicity of this triumph is accepted,55 it is possible to argue that the consuls operated in different locations.56 M. Poetelius Libo could have operated in the territory of the Ausones in 313 and have played a role, via the dictatorship of C. Poetelius Libo in 313, in the foundation of Suessa Aurunca. In parallel, the foundation of Interamna, on the left bank of the Liris and in Samnite territory, may have to be understood in the context of C. Sulpicius Longus’ personal military actions in Samnium two years before: his dictatorship in 312 could have been a good position to lead the colonial process. The Third Samnite War ended in 290 and coincides with the distribution of land in Sabinum following the victories of M’. Curius Dentatus.57 The historicity of the char52

Following Broughton (1951) I, 159. There is still some doubt: C. Iunius Bubulcus could have been dictator or magister equitum. 53 C. Sulpicius Ser. f. Q.n. Longus, anno CDXXXIX co(n)s(ul) III, de Samnitibus k. Quint. 54 Livy mentions the maneuvers he conducted on the battlefield and points out that the soldiers took heart when they saw him again among them (nam et conspectu ducis refectus militum est animus, Liv. 9.27.11–13). 55 Poucet (1971) 151–154 gives little credence to the list of triumphs of the Sulpicii, as it is transmitted by the Fasti Triumphales. He thinks that “les Fastes auraient été influencés par une source différente de la version annalistique conservée, une source nettement favorable à la gens des Sulpicii”. 56 Livy is very vague about the location of the military operations against the Samnites. Caudium is mentioned, then Capua, and finally the plains of Campania. Even if it is not possible to propose a precise location, it seems that the north-eastern fringes of Samnite territory were concerned. 57 Liv. Per. 11.6.

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acter is not to be questioned, but his various actions have been the subject of numerous historiographical reconstructions.58 Consul in 290, he obtained two triumphs for his victories against the Samnites and the Sabines, and an ovatio over the Lucanians (InscrIt. XIII, 1, p. 544–545). Two major aspects emerge from the literary tradition: the extent of the land confiscations carried out by the general (Florus 1.15.3; Cass. Dio 8.37.1; Vir. Ill. 33; Oros. 3.22.11) on the one hand, the frugality of his character (Plin. HN 18.4.18; Colum. 1.pr.14, 1.3.10; Front. Strat. 4.3.12; Vir. Ill. 33; Plut. Apophth. Curii 1–2, Crass. 2.9–10) on the other. It is difficult to determine the precise modalities of the land distributions and there are many uncertainties about the role played by M’. Curius Dentatus: the date and exact geographical location of the confiscations, the extent, number and identity of beneficiaries, and the legal status granted to the Sabines.59 If we consider all the sources available on the land distributions following the victories of the plebeian general, we note that only two authors clearly attribute to him the sole responsibility: the Auctor de Viris illustribus and Plutarch (Vir. Ill. 33; Plut. Apophth. Curii 1–2). According to them, it was M’. Curius Dentatus who distributed land to the populus and also decided not to grant himself a larger plot. The other available sources either remain vague or evoke the role of the Senate. About the refusal of the triumphator to receive a larger amount of land than his fellow citizens, Valerius Maximus mentions the Senate, whereas Columella records a gift from the populus (Val. Max. 4.3.5; Colum.1.3). Moreover, Frontinus’ text is the only one that clearly mentions that the soldiers of M’. Curius Dentatus were the beneficiaries of land distributions (Front. Strat. 4.3.12). In that case, it would indicate that the general took charge of the colonial process by virtue of his imperium.60 In any case, the involvement of the victorious general Dentatus in the colonisation of the territories he had conquered is not to be questioned, but the details of this do not appear very clear, in view of partly divergent sources. As it has been pointed out,61 Dentatus’ figure as a plebeian hero is not necessarily the one that suits his entire career. The distribution of land his victories made possible, which he probably partly controlled, may have been conducted in agreement with the Senate, more than in opposition to it.62

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See Berrendonner (2001) 101–104. On the exemplarity of M’ Curius Dentatus, see also Pasco-­ Pranger (2015). See Smith (2014) 130–131 for a short synthesis. Pina Polo (2011) 170–171 with further bibliography. Buonocore & Firpo (1998) 565–566, cited by Smith (2014) 131. Possible opposition from the Senate could be read in Appian (Samn. fr. 5) and Dio Cassius (8, frg. 37). The fact that a part of the land was sold as ager quaestorius could also be an argument in favour of Dentatus’ cooperation with the Senate.

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IV Conclusion The main importance of land as a spoil comes from its peculiar terms of acquisition and from the delay in its distribution. By definition immobile, territories cannot be subjected to the same rules applied to movable plunder. The pillage of such spoils happened at once and according to terms that could be decided immediately after the victory. The confiscation of landed spoils required more time: perhaps negotiations with the enemy, followed by measurement of the land and division, as soon as distribution was envisaged. Nevertheless, the longer delays that were required did not necessarily mean that victorious generals could not influence the fate of the land they had contributed to the Roman domination. It is difficult to discern any systematic pattern of aristocratic participation in terms of colonial processes, – land distributions or colonial foundations – but the variety of options that was available to them is made manifest through case studies: proposals to found colonies, the role they played in the selection of the triumvirs tasked with a foundation and their direct participation in an agrarian triumviral commission. Besides, although colonial processes were chosen as a case study for this paper, they were not the only way through which confiscated land could be used: its sale is also attested.63 Finally, this enquiry on the links between colonization, spoils and the role played by generals allows us to go beyond the overly rigid opposition between archaic and early Republican colonial operations, often presented as being conducted by warlords,64 and the colonial processes of the middle Republic, which were state-sponsored and characterized by the larger role played by the Senate. Audrey Bertrand Université Gustave Eiffel [email protected]

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Roselaar (2010) 118–123. See Bradley (2006). The position of Chiabà (2006; 2011) is more nuanced, as she considers that victorious generals nevertheless relied on the king and the supreme magistracies to drive the colonial processes.

Born to Plunder Rome’s Shift towards Predatory Warfare in the Fourth Century BCE* Marian Helm I Introduction Warfare was a common occurrence in the Ancient World and Roman expansion was not a unique phenomenon in the context of the wider Mediterranean basin.1 In comparison to other powers like Macedon or Carthage, the Roman Republic was, however, exceptionally successful in expanding its territory and sphere of influence. Although Rome might not have differed that much from other communities in the early republican period, by the third century, large-scale annual warfare, the public display of spoils, and the meticulous listing of plundered goods down to the last penny (or rather as) had become distinctive features of Roman military and political practices.2 This relatively well-documented era of the Punic Wars provides us with a clear picture of Roman warfare, but it has to be stressed that it neither explains how Roman warfare evolved into the massive annual deployment of 30,000 to 40,000 men in the four legions and alae nor does it explain how the populus Romanus developed its astounding perseverance in the face of defeats. Pointedly said, we are well informed about Rome’s fully developed way of war but less so about its formative period and the various evolutions that set the conditions for the Italian and Mediterranean conquests.

* 1 2

All dates BCE. Eckstein (2006); Bradley & Hall (2017) 193–197; cf.  Burton (2019) 56–73. See also Armstrong (2016a) 181–182 and his contribution in this volume on the beginnings of Roman warfare. In combination, these developments suggest that the Roman community had by this point in time developed a culture of war that was focused on the acquisition and distribution of external resources by military force, Harris (1979) 41–53; cf. Rosenstein (2004) 80–81 on the advantages for Roman families. Hölkeskamp (1993) presents the dynamic interrelation between military and political developments in the fourth century, cf. Raaflaub (1996). See Burton (2019) for an overview of the discussion on Roman imperialism.

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Approaching this early period of Roman history is fraught with risk due to the difficult state of our body of evidence, but a convincing argument can nevertheless be made for the increasing reliability of our literary sources – in constant interrelation with the growing body of material evidence – throughout the progressing fourth century.3 At the same time, it is necessary to acknowledge that this early phase of Roman republican history was still characterized by negotiations, experiments, and failures, both in domestic and foreign affairs.4 These dynamic and convoluted developments caution against retrojecting later conditions and mentalities. Especially in regard to Rome’s eventual switch to constant large-scale warfare, it therefore seems advisable to trace changing Roman practices in a forwardly progressing and non-linear fashion in order to identify the processes that led the Roman Republic to embrace constant campaigning.5 Based on these stipulations, the following paper is going to chronologically examine the ‘long fourth century’ to determine how various major events, contingencies, and long-term processes shaped Roman warfare and Roman attitudes towards spoils.6 II The Conquest of Veii – An Overrated Precedent As pointed out by Jeremy Armstrong in this volume, Roman warfare became more centralized in the fifth century, a process that is most tangible in regard to the introduction of stipendium and tributum.7 Although we are confronted with a difficult body of

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Cornell (1995) 1–30; (2005); Beck (2007); Hölkeskamp (2011) 17–31; Rich (2014) 204–205. See Oakley (1997) 3–110 on Livy; Baron (2013) 17–88 on the value of the contemporary western Greek sources, specifically Timaeus of Tauromenium. Cf. Helm (2022a) 33–55 on combining the wealth of new archaeological material with the literary evidence. The Leiden Hinterland Project is a perfect example for the growing body of material evidence and our ability to increasingly interconnect the results from archaeological fieldwork, Attema et al. (2022). Hölkeskamp (1993) 26–30; Armstrong (2016a) 286–289, and Davies (2017) 61–65, emphasize the emergence of new practices in regard to spoils in the second half of the fourth century. In addition, Armstrong (2016b) 117–118 discusses the importance of spoils for binding Roman forces together. The path-dependence model advocated by Pierson (2004) recommends itself for such a task and aligns well with the arguments of Harriet Flower for “a more nuanced framework [that] brings out the conflicts, failures, and revolutionary moments of change that Rome experienced”, Flower (2010) 56; cf. Östenberg (2009) 2, on the dynamic development of Roman practices. Harris (1979) 58, can be seen as representative of the trend to begin with the more reliably attested events of the Second Samnite War, which ignores the importance of previous decades, including the ‘cooperative phase’ of Rome and its Latin neighbours following the foedus Cassianum and the traumatic Gallic Sack. For a discussion of the reactions to Harris influential work see Burton (2019) 41–43. Raaflaub’s excellent 1996 article “Born to be wolves” already pointed to the crucial importance of the fourth century as the formative phase of the processes that eventually propelled Rome to Mediterranean Empire in the mid-republican period. Stipendium: Liv. 4.59.11; Diod. Sic. 14.16.5; Plut. Cam. 2.2–3. Tributum: Liv. 4.59­–60, cf. 5.20, 10.46, cf. Var. Ling. 5.181–182; Gell. NA 6.10. Unfortunately, the sources do not mention how these were

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evidence, there can be little doubt that Roman fortunes improved markedly in the second half of the century and reached an apex with the conquest of Veii in 396, which eliminated an old rival in the Tiber valley and significantly expanded the ager Romanus through the absorption of the ager Veientanus and parts of its population.8 Modern scholarship has therefore tended to see this event as the first major step in Roman expansion that not only increased Roman power but also set the pace for its aggressive foreign policy. Despite the undeniable Roman success, such an overestimation of the consequences of the conquest of Veii does not necessarily reflect the account of our sources: after all, the great victory was swiftly offset by the equally great defeat of the Gallic Sack, which was in turn followed by a long period of internal turmoil that contradicts the narrative of a swift Roman recovery.9 It is thus doubtful whether the contemporary protagonists were pursuing any grand strategic schemes beyond the situational objectives of controlling the Tiber valley and its trade. Tellingly, the literary sources describe a quite unsystematic and improvised plundering of Veii, which included an invitation to the civilian population to join the army on a given day in order to conduct their own pillaging, which suggests a lack of long-term planning.10 Although it is hard to imagine how this act of ‘public plunder’ was actually conducted, this part of the narrative might very well reflect both the inchoate state of Roman military practices in regard to large quantities of spoils as well as the changing relation between the army in the field and the community that followed the introduction of tributum and stipendium. While the latter enhanced Roman capabilities, it also centralized and communalized military operations and can thus be expected to have increased the claim of the community to some of the spoils of war.11 This might not have been a controversial issue as long as the material benefits

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10 11

levied or paid out, which has left room for interpretation: Nicolet (1976b) 3–19; (1980) 115–117, 153– 169; Boren (1983) 432–433; Humm (2005) 375–397; Rosenstein (2016) 95–97; Armstrong (2016a) 211–214; Tan (2019) 52–54. Also see Armstrong and Taylor in this volume. Liv. 5.19–22; Diod. Sic. 14.93.2; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 12.11–13; Plut. Cam. 5; Flor. 1.12. Cornell (1995) 309–313; Engerbeaud (2020) 141–151; Armstrong (2016a) 215–231. Terrenato (2019) 114–119, suggests a less violent takeover, which underestimates the negative effects of the Roman conquest. Cornell (1989b) 312–323; (1995) 313–329, is a good example, since the Gallic Sack and its consequences are only briefly mentioned in favour of focusing on the importance of the conquest of Veii as a starting point of Roman expansion, cf. Bradley & Hall (2017) 197–199. In contrast, the economic challenges following the sack (Bernard 2018, 75–117), the deep traumatization of Roman society (Bellen 1985), the failed coup d’état by M. Manlius Capitolinus (Helm 2022a, 133–139), and the thorough political reforms encapsulated in the leges Liciniae Sextiae (Cornell 1995, 327–340), suggest that the Roman community experienced a long process of recovery and reorientation. Liv. 5.20–22, whereas Diod. Sic. 14.93.2–3 and Plut. Cam. 5.5, 6.1 only mention the sack by the regular army. Armstrong (2016a) 228–232. Mackil (2017) esp. 72–77, stresses the importance of early legislation in regard to land disputes and regulations, establishing the meta-jurisdictional authority of the community; cf. Armstrong (2020b) 136–138 who sees the Twelve Tables and early legislation as part of the negotiation between various groups within the Roman community. Similar processes can be expected to have

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remained modest, but in the case of Veii the situation was radically different, since both the portable wealth and the prospect of land distributions on the ager Veientanus had the potential to drastically improve the economic situation of a considerable part of the population.12 Evidence for the charged and laborious negotiations concerning the distribution of the Veientine spoils is provided by the various stories involving the tragic victor M. Furius Camillus: although Camillus reportedly deposited a large quantity of spoils into the aerarium, his triumph was quite controversial, and he was subsequently sued for the alleged misappropriation of the Veientine plunder.13 Despite the various hazards involved in interpreting the literary accounts of these events, and arguably anything that deals with Camillus14, it is nevertheless conspicuous that later authors emphasized both the improvised plundering and the subsequent disputes over the distribution of the portable spoils. The vast amount of wealth generated by the conquest of Veii, which even allowed for the rather extravagant dedication of a golden bowl to the oracle at Delphi, seems to have triggered a fundamental debate on distribution practices and rules.15 In contrast to its handling of the portable spoils, the Roman community seems to have extensively deliberated on how to proceed with the newly occupied land – a process that was interrupted and no doubt influenced by the Gallic Sack – and it was not before 387 that a solution was found through the creation of four tribus, which also seem to have enrolled a part of the Veientines.16 The innovative step of founding four new tribus – a unique size, later additions always featured two tribus – instead of extending existing ones cannot be overestimated, since it was to become the model for all subsequent extensions of Roman territory until the reform of the comitia centuriata after the year 241.17 Parallel to the controversial distribution of the Veientine spoils of war, the task of incorporating newly conquered territories as well as parts of the resident population can be expected to have involved and strengthened central authoritaken place in regard to military affairs. On the Twelve Tables’ stipulations see Flach (1994) 109– 207. 12 Roselaar (2010) 41–44. See Cels-Saint-Hilaire (1995) 228–234 on the innovative step of creating new tribus, which she interprets as a pushback against the power of the gentes. Cf. Helm (2022a) 102–113. 13 Plut. Cam. 7–13; Plin. HN 34.13; Val. Max. 4.1.2; Liv. 5.23.6–12. Linke (2017) 389–392, emphasizes the negative depiction of the otherwise glorified Camillus, cf. Cels-Saint-Hilaire (1995) 234–249, who discusses the Camillus legend in the context of the distribution of the ager Veientanus. 14 On the Camillus legend see Oakley (1997) 376–379; Bruun (2000); Späth (2001); Walter 2004, 382–407; Von Ungern-Sternberg (2006). 15 Diod. Sic. 14.93 specifies that the bowl was deposited in the treasury of the Massaliotes, see also Plut. Cam. 8; Liv. 5.25.10, 5.28.1–6. The gold bowl was allegedly melted down by Onomarchus in the Sacred War, but App. Ital. 8.1 writes that the pedestal remained in place. Coincidentally, the dedication also shows that new options and horizons were opened up by the Roman victory. 16 Liv. 6.4.4. Cf. Taylor (2013) 47–49; Helm (2022a) 89–92. 17 Hackl (1972) 38–39; Taylor (2013) 9–16. See also on the tribes as the mechanism for Roman expansion Armstrong (2020b) 149–150, and for an overview of the later tribus Helm (2022b).

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ties, that is the assemblies and elected magistrates of the Roman community. This is all the more plausible, since the addition of new tribus directly impacted these central institutions, for example by changing the composition and power balance in the comitia tributa.18 Warfare thus increasingly affected the political field and power balance of the Roman community at the beginning of the fourth century. In addition to the material side of the victory, the various narratives revolving around the evocatio of Veii’s patron goddess Juno Regina, whose wooden statue was transplanted to the city of Rome, further suggests that the victory had a considerable effect on Roman perceptions and practices.19 Although the evocatio deorum was not exactly a common feature of Roman warfare, it nevertheless occurred intermittently throughout the republican period.20 The first evocatio thus set an important precedent, which was soon emulated by the dictator T. Quinctius Cincinnatus in 380, who displayed a statue of Jupiter Imperator from Praeneste in his triumph that he later set up in a recess between the shrines of Jupiter and Minerva, including an inscription that specified the circumstances of its relocation to Rome.21 The forceful removal and the implied acquiescence of foreign gods to this action reflect a Roman mindset in which the taking of spoils was divinely sanctioned, and it can hardly be a coincidence that this practice emerged in the context of the conquest of Veii.22 III Spoils and the Consulship While the triumph of Quinctius Cincinnatus in 380 indicates changing Roman practices, it does not necessarily constitute a continuation of a policy of military expansion. In fact, military operations seem to have been mainly conducted to defend the recently expanded ager Romanus in the aftermath of the Gallic Sack.23 Concrete evidence for a shift in Roman policies does not appear before the leges Liciniae S­ extiae, which

18 19 20 21

22

23

Nicolet (1980) 224–226; Cornell (2022) 226–228. See Armstrong (2020b) 142–146 for the growing importance of the comitia tributa. Liv. 5.22; Plut. Cam. 6.1–2; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 13.3; Val. Max. 1.8.3. See Viscogliosi, in LTUR 3 (1996) 126–128; Orlin (1996) 15, 62–63. See Linke (2013) 78, (2014) 21–24, on the implied sacral superiority of the Romans. Rüpke (2019) 163–165. On the history of the evocationes see Ferri (2006). Liv. 6.29.10: “The inscription ran something like this: ‘Jupiter and all the gods have granted this boon to Titus Quinctius the Dictator, that he should capture nine towns.’” See Liv. 6.28–29; Festus 498L; Diod. Sic. 15.47.8; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 14.5; Eutrop. 2.2; Oros. 3.3.5. See Engerbeaud (2020) 181–185 for the historical context of the conflict with Praeneste. Östenberg (2009) 82–86; Linke (2014) 20–24. In addition, Linke (2013) 76–80, emphasizes that the evocatio of Juno Regina was a further development of earlier practices, which had also led to the creation of temples for gods from neighbouring communities. In this context, the evocatio marked a new, forceful quality of Roman ‘sacral plundering’. Engerbeaud (2020) 177–187.

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(re)introduced the consulship in 367.24 The political weight of the consulship and its responsibility for commanding operations in the field led to a more pronounced entanglement of domestic politics and foreign policy, which can already be observed in the first conflict following the legislation; the war against the Hernici. Although our sources do not cover this conflict in detail, they do mention that the first plebeian consul to lead a Roman army in the field, L. Genucius, was ambushed and killed by the Hernici in 362.25 Apart from the rather inauspicious beginning of the fighting, we know little else about the course of the war except for the brief notice that it was successfully concluded with the creation of the new tribus Pomptina and Publilia in 358.26 Since the few available references emphasize the significance of the campaigns against the Hernici, which involved prominent members of the political elite and resulted in a considerable extension of the ager Romanus, it is striking that Roman aggression against the Hernici seems to have lacked any specific reason. This is particularly curious when considering that the Hernican territory was quite distant from Rome and moreover separated from the ager Romanus by a chain of Latin cities that included Praeneste and Velitrae. Furthermore, the Hernici had been signatories of the foedus Cassianum and they do not appear to have broken the treaty or tried to exploit Roman weakness after the Gallic Sack.27 In this context, the already mentioned leges Liciniae Sextiae might help to explain Roman motifs for going to war: besides the already mentioned lex Licinia Sextia de consule plebeio, the package also consisted of the lex Licinia Sextia de aere alieno, concerned with debt relief and the lex Licinia Sextia de modo agrorum, which restricted individual exploitation of ager publicus in excess of 500 iugera.28 Even if later authors – especially members of the senatorial elite – might have judged the introduction of the consulship to have been the central component of the legislation, this does not have to reflect the interests and expectations of the wider population around this time. In contrast to the elites, the ordinary citizens, that is the group of free smallholders that also manned the legions, were probably more interested in the laws regarding debt and property, especially in view of the reportedly dire economic situation following the Gallic Sack.29 Although the laws promised action in this regard, their actual implementation can be expected to have been neither an easy nor a swiftly accomplished task, since it would inevitably have entailed losses and re-

24 25 26 27 28 29

Cornell (1995) 333–340; Armstrong (2016a) 260–265 on the parallel adoption of new equipment like the scutum and pilum; ibid. 273–279 on the concentration of forces in the two consular armies. Liv. 7.4.1, 7.6.7–12; Diod. Sic. 15.90.1. Engerbeaud (2020) 189–191. Liv. 7.15.12. See Taylor (2013) 52–53; Helm (2022b) 84–85. Oakley (1997) 353–360. Flach (1994) 278–297. Cornell (1995) 330–333; Hölkeskamp (2011) 96–101; Bernard (2018) 117. Armstrong (2020b) argues convincingly for the growing influence of the comitia tributa in the fifth century, which would also have strengthened the power of individual citizens whose vote in this assembly was not curtailed by income requirements.

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strictions for debtors and landholders.30 Considering the demands of the leges Liciniae Sextiae and the rather unlikely choice of the Hernici as a target of Roman aggression, it seems plausible that the Hernican War was in part driven by the desire to fulfil the promises of the new legislation through the acquisition and utilization of external resources instead of engaging in a domestic zero-sum-game of redistribution. The failure of the nobiles responsible for this policy, notably of L. Genucius, did not bury these designs but rather led to the takeover of a new faction that cemented its control of the highest offices through the victorious conclusion of the war and the creation of the new tribus in 358.31 Overall, the leges Liciniae Sextiae and the events of the following years thus increasingly intertwined political success with military performance, since the opening of the consulship necessarily required aspiring members of the Roman elite to become involved in warfare. In addition to this step, the introduction of the military tribuneship shortly before the Hernican War further indicates the institutionalization of the military engagement of the elite.32 Since the military tribunes were elected by the Roman people, it stands to reason that this was not a one-way relationship but also meant that domestic issues and demands influenced military operations and decision-making. In contrast to the earlier ‘warrior ethos’, the mid-fourth century seems to have witnessed a stronger alignment and entanglement of the military sphere with the political arena in Rome. The changing realities are most prominently reflected in the figure of T. Manlius Torquatus, whose deeds in these and later years were to become powerful exempla. Young Titus had been deemed unfit for a political career, but his exemplary filial pietas and his military virtus, which earned him a golden torquis in a duel with a Celtic warrior, led to an unexpected and widely remembered career.33

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Piacentin (2018); Helm (2022a) 150–154. Helm (2022a) 154–180 with references. Armstrong (2016a) 277–279; see also Harris (1979) 39–40; Hölkeskamp (1993) 21–23; Rosenstein (2006) 366–368. Cf. the famous but admittedly late statement in Plb. 6.19.3 that no one was eligible for political office unless he had served for ten years. Liv. 6.42.5–6, 7.9–10; Gell. NA 9.13.4–19 (= FRH 14 F 10b); Cic. Tusc. 4.49; Eutrop. 2.5.1; Suet. Cal. 35.1; App. Sam. 2; Val. Max. 3.2.6; Ovid. Fast. 1.601–603; Plin. HN 33.15; Quintil. Inst. Or. 5.11.10; Flor. 1.13.20; Amm. 24.4.5; on his filial pietas: Sen. Ben. 3.37.4; Cic. Off. 3.112, Fin. 2.60. Linke (2014) 82–86; cf. Walter (2003) for the Roman elite’s construction of specific family histories and exempla. On the significance of taking the torc from his fallen Celtic opponent see Östenberg (2009) 108–111.

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IV Broadening the Military Horizon – The Campaigns in Campania and Samnium Stressing the situational context and the limited war aims of the Hernican War is crucial to dispelling the idea of any Roman Grand Strategy, which was absent in the mostly defensive actions against Etruscans, Celts, and Latins in the following years. Despite this absence, it is nevertheless necessary to acknowledge that the creation of the tribus Pomptina and Publilia had increased Roman territory and strengthened its dominant position in Latium, which is indicated by a potential rejuvenation of the foedus Cassianum in 358 – parallel to the foundation of the new tribus – as well as treaties with Carthage and the Samnites soon after.34 According to our literary sources, it was this regional power status that led to Roman involvement in a conflict that originated in the Liris valley, where Samnite attacks had forced the resident Sidicini to enlist Campanian help.35 When the latter’s intervention backfired and in turn left the Campanians looking for help, they dispatched a delegation to Rome in 343. The exact details of the following negotiation and its results remain controversial, but it seems unlikely that the reported complete submission of the Campanians, a deditio, took place – although they must have offered something to secure Roman support.36 The subsequent military operations of the so-called First Samnite War are presented as an unequivocal success, but it seems prudent to question the Livian narrative of spectacular campaigns and bombastic speeches in light of the far less impressive account of Dionysius. According to him, the legions were mainly used as garrisons and even went into winter quarters in Campania.37 This unusual and extraordinarily lengthy deployment of Roman troops allegedly led to a mutiny, which in turn created considerable unrest in Rome itself. Although the evidence is once again challenging due to several divergent traditions on the exact nature of the seditio, the varying accounts nevertheless agree that the soldiers’ displeasure stemmed from the fact that they had expected the usual opportunities for enrichment, which did not materialize

34

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See Liv. 7.12.7 for the renewed treaty with the Latins in 358; Liv. 7.27.2 and Diod. Sic. 16.69.1 for the treaty with Carthage in 348, which is also mentioned by Plb. 3.24. The comparison with the first treaty (Plb. 3.22–23) emphasizes the increase in Roman power. This is also reflected by the treaty with the Samnites in 354: Liv. 7.19.4. See Cornell (1989b) 319–323; Scopacasa (2016) 39. For an overview of the external developments of this period see Engerbeaud (2020) 189–208; Helm (2022a) 186–199. Although group labels like “Samnites” do not necessarily represent homogeneous groups, the treaties – especially with Carthage – nevertheless indicate that some form of communal decision-making processes must have existed, see Bourdin (2012) 161–174, 322–360; Scopacasa (2015) 128–129 and the contributions in Farney & Bradley (2017), esp. Tagliamonte (2017). Liv. 7.29.4–6. Eckstein (2006) 141–144 sees this as a classical example of the Mediterranean Anarchy and interprets the events as a clash between two expanding powers. Liv. 7.31.4. See Frederiksen (1984) 184–193; Oakley (1998) 284–306; Scopacasa (2015) 130–134; (2016) 39–40; Terrenato (2019) 127–130. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 15.3.2; Liv. 7.38.4–7, 7.42.7; App. Sam. 1.1; Zon. 7.25.9.

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in the context of their garrison-duty in Campania.38 Since the whole conflict is also part of and prelude to the lex Genucia and its prohibition of iterations in office-holding, which resulted in a detectable shift in the composition of the fasti consulares, the narrative may be based on a kernel of truth.39 Most importantly, the Roman difficulties seem to have expedited a peace treaty with the Samnites and the withdrawal of Roman troops from Campania, which makes the seditio of 342 one of the few instances that mention the less successful episodes of early Roman warfare.40 Putting the difficulties and the ambivalent outcome of the First Samnite War into perspective is all the more important, since it was the prelude to the Latin War, a conflict that, unlike the previous one, would indeed turn out to be a major turning point in Roman history since it established Roman control and authority over the cities of Latium and Campania.41 Although Livy presents the conflict as a widespread rebellion against Roman supremacy, it is noteworthy that both his account and especially the Greek account of Dionysius initially present a rather hesitant and cautious Roman course of action that mainly reacted to the events of the quickly escalating crisis.42 On the basis of the literary evidence, it seems unlikely that the Roman side had deliberately sought the war and therefore might not have entertained any specific objectives apart from the suppression of the hostile alliance. The accomplishment of this objective in 338 did, however, open up a whole new range of options and there can be little doubt that the extraordinary quality of the eventual victory was already realized by contemporaries.43 For the first time, equestrian statues were granted to the consuls C. Maenius and L. Furius Camillus, and one of the most central political places of the populus Romanus, the speakers’ platform on the Forum Romanum, thereafter the rostra, was adorned with the beaks of captured Antiate ships.44 Both the new quality and the conspicuous location of these monuments as well as the rich bounty of spoils – including confiscations and distributions of land – underscore the magnitude of the victory, which is also reflected by the Roman appropriation of the Latin sacral landscapes, 38

Livy even mentions that the disobedient soldiers started to swarm out to plunder communities in Latium, Liv. 7.39.7–8. 39 Oakley (1998) 361–365. Hölkeskamp (2011) 102–109, stresses the importance and long-term impact of the lex Genucia, which broke up existing power monopolies within the elite. Such a drastic change in domestic politics seems most plausible in a situation, where unrest was ripe in the community. 40 Although later sources and especially Livy are keen to present this as a Roman victory, the stipulation that the Samnites were given carte blanche against the Sidicini – the casus belli that led the Campani and then Rome to intervene – speaks a different language: Liv. 8.2.1–3: quod ad Sidicinos attineat, nihil intercedi quo minus Samniti populo pacis bellique liberum arbitrium sit. 41 Oakley (1998) 393–570. 42 Liv. 8.2.12; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 15.4.1–6. Oakley (1998) 408–424. 43 For an overview see Helm (2022a) 232–277. 44 Liv. 8.13.9, 8.14.12. Coarelli, in LTUR 1 (1993) 309–314; Hölkeskamp (2001) 111–113; Östenberg (2009) 46–47; Davies (2017) 61–65; Sehlmeyer (1999) 48–53. Östenberg (2009) 56, draws attention to the often-overlooked value of the beaks. The luxury of exhibiting them publicly sent a strong message regarding the connection between warfare and wealth.

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including the feriae Latinae and other major cult sites that were brought under Roman control.45 The spoils that represented the Roman success in this context clearly exceeded previous dedications and victory monuments in regard to quality, visibility, and peculiarity, thus emphasizing their importance and paving the way for new modes of representation.46 In comparison to the earlier victory over Veii, the prominent public display of monuments and statues, especially the appearance of the idiosyncratic rostra in the urban centre and heart of the Roman polity, and the more abstract ‘sacral despoliation’ of the Latin cities, indicate that spoils attained significant symbolic meaning and served to display Roman power and superiority.47 Despite the undoubtedly positive outcome of Rome’s ‘Campanian adventure’ – including portable wealth, land distributions, and the expansion of elite networks – it nevertheless has to be stressed that neither its beginning nor its conclusion suggest the existence of a Roman policy of expansion or plunder on a permanent basis. Although the outcome of the Latin War significantly increased Roman capabilities, expanded the ager Romanus, and curtailed the ability of the peoples of Latium to unite against Rome, all of these points were unforeseeable at the beginning of the conflict, which gradually escalated from a regional conflict into a large-scale war that challenged Rome’s dominant position in Latium. In this context, a forceful Roman response would have been necessary to simply maintain the status quo and it was only after this initial goal had been achieved that new opportunities opened up and were eagerly seized by the victors.48 However, this does not imply a consistent policy of expansion and aggression. The measures following the victory – the prevention of another dangerous coalition, the confiscations, and punishments – rather reflect a Roman preoccupation with managing the new realities in Latium rather than a desire to embark on further campaigns. V The Caudine Peace Treaty In terms of foreign policy, the Latin War was followed by a period of relative calm, and it took more than a decade before Roman forces were again engaged in serious fighting.49 This pause should not be underestimated since the surprisingly detailed descrip-

45 On the hierarchization of the sacral landscape see Linke (2013) 83–86. 46 Harris (1979) 21–22; Hölscher (2019) 242–243. Östenberg (2009) 57, speculates that the display of beaks, which first occurred in 338, also emphasized the Roman control of the sea, a claim that occurred at the same time it had attained control over Latium and its coast. 47 On the connection between the increased visibility of spoils within the city and the Roman superiority discourse see Vijgen (2020) 293–306. 48 The escalating competition of the consuls of 339, who promised rich distributions of conquered land to the populace, emphasizes the shifting objectives once the initial crisis had been weathered; Helm (2022a) 266–277. 49 Helm (2017) 209–213.

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tion of the events leading up to the so-called Second Samnite War indicates a genuine Roman desire to diplomatically resolve a conflict between Capua and Neapolis before it could escalate into a major conflict with Samnite groups.50 Despite Livy’s preference for bella iusta, it is striking that the initial actions reflect a reluctant rather than belligerent Roman posture. This is further supported by the conduct of the military operations: after negotiations had failed, neither the Roman nor the Samnite side seem to have pursued the war with great energy, and the unspectacular surrender of Neapolis in 326, which immediately received a favorable foedus aequum, is a case in point.51 In this context, modern scholarship has long agreed that the glorious narrative of successful campaigns deep into Samnium should be dismissed in favour of far less consequential skirmishes and border raids.52 It was not until 321 that both consular armies under L. Postumius Albinus and Sp. Veturius were combined for an invasion of Samnium, which seems to have been the first serious attempt to force a decisive confrontation, an attempt that ended in a humiliating defeat at the Caudine Forks.53 In contrast to other major setbacks of the early republican period, later authors did not even attempt to gloss over the magnitude of the Roman defeat, but instead tried to distort its consequences by claiming that it led to a sponsio rather than a foedus.54 It seems to have been unimaginable for later writers that Rome would have signed a ceasefire or peace treaty under unfavourable conditions, and Livy indeed provides a series of rather fantastic Roman victories that re-established Roman superiority before terms could be dictated to the Samnites in the year 318. This course of events is, in all likelihood, a blatant attempt to obfuscate the fact that Roman authorities had been forced to accept a peace treaty with the Samnites in the wake of the Caudine disaster.55 In the context of the year 321, such a decision would by no means have been surprising, since the war had neither been started for vital Roman interests nor did the Caudine Peace affect such.56 Similar to the conclusion of the First Samnite War, the treaty thus indicates that the decision-makers in Rome, that is the elites in the form of the consules 50 51 52 53 54 55 56

Liv. 8.22; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 15.7–8. See Frederiksen (1984) 210–212; Oakley (1998) 638–645. Scopacasa (2015) 128–129, correctly stresses the fluid boundaries of larger groups like the Samnites, who might have gained in cohesion through the military encounters with Rome. Liv. 8.26.6–7; Cic. Balb. 21. See Lomas (2016) 240. In this context, Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 15.8.5 reports that the Samnite delegation in Rome stressed the private character of the Samnite forces in Campania, hinting at the rather complicated situation on the ground. Salmon (1967) 222; Grossmann (2009) 54–55; Tagliamonte (2017) 423. On the literary tradition regarding Caudium see Oakley (2005) 3–145; cf. Grossmann (2009) 59– 72; Lentzsch (2019) 171–206. Liv. 9.5.1–5; App. Sam. 4.18; Cic. Inv. 2.91, Off. 3.109; Quadrigarius FRH 14 F19 (= Gell. NA 2.19.8); Zon. 7.26.13–15. See Cornell (1989a) 370-371; Oakley (2005) 31–34; Grossmann (2009) 72–74. Liv. 9.20.2–3. Salmon (1967) 226–233; Oakley (2005) 261–276; Scopacasa (2015) 138; Engerbeaud (2020) 241–251. The Campanians held the civitas sine suffragio, which means that the politically relevant core body of full Roman citizens was neither impacted by the outbreak of fighting in Campania nor by the terms of the peace treaty. Even in regard to Romano-Campanian relations it could be argued that the peace

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and the Senate, were able and willing to accept defeat and to negotiate agreeable peace terms as long as the latter did not require substantial sacrifices, for example in regard to the ager Romanus.57 However one wants to interpret the Caudine defeat and its aftermath, it at least indicates that the Roman community had at this point in time not yet developed the same resilience, one might also say stubbornness, that it was to display in the third century.58 The scarce appreciation of the significance of the peace treaty in regard to the Roman conception and habit of warfare is to a large degree due to the retrospective knowledge that it only held for a few years before hostilities reignited in the year 315.59 However, there is good reason to suspect that it was actually the Samnites who initiated this new bout of fighting.60 In this context, Salmon has stressed Roman difficulties with unrest amongst the Volsci and Aurunci in the Liris valley, arguing that it was Roman military activity in this region and possibly a request for help which caused Samnite groups to intervene. The seemingly effortless Samnite campaign of the year 315, which saw the defeat of a Roman army at Lautulae and reached as far as Ardea, and the scattered references to revolts in ‘allied’ cities, all indicate a rather unfavourable situation, which strongly questions the idea of Roman aggression.61 Although the Greek authors are the most explicit in mentioning these setbacks, it is noteworthy that Livy also comments on the dire situation and even reports a political ‘witch hunt’ in Rome in reaction to the dismal military performance.62 Overall, the Caudine defeat and the subsequent negotiations thus demonstrate that Roman leadership and the community were at this time still willing to concede defeat in favour of diplomatic solutions.

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did not affect these, since the original casus belli, the fighting between unspecified Campanians and Neapolis had been settled by the Roman foedus with Neapolis. See Grossmann (2009) 28–41. The only securely attested demand of the Samnites seems to have been the surrender of the colonia Latina Fregellae which had been founded just a few years ago: Salmon (1967) 229–230. Oakley (2005) 34–38; Rosenstein (2007) 229–236. Salmon (1967) 231–235; Oakley (2005) 276–297; Grossmann (2009) 90–92. Scopacasa (2015) 138–142. Liv. 9.23.1–6 describes an inconclusive battle but also mentions a different tradition that reported the death of the magister equitum Q. Aulius Cerretanus. The death of Aulius and a decisive Roman defeat are recorded by Diod. Sic. 19.72.3–9. On the massacre of Roman colonists in Sora see Diod. Sic. 19.72.3 and Liv. 9.23.2. The Samnite destruction of Ardea is mentioned by Strab. 5.3.5, 5.4.11. See Oakley (2005) 284–285; Engerbeaud (2020) 252–256; Helm (2022a) 305–309. The initial Roman defeats also seem to have led to unrest among some of the recently subjugated communities, Liv. 9.26.5: Eodem anno, cum omnia infida Romanis essent, Capuae quoque occultae principum coniurationes factae. Cf. Helm (2017) on the fragile state of the Roman alliance at this early stage. Liv. 9.26. See Oakley (2005) 304–306; Beck (2005a) 176; Grossmann (2009) 96–98; Hölkeskamp (2011) 247.

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VI From Roman Recovery to Disproportionate Response In light of the crisis of the years 316 to 312, it is notable that our sources report various substantial reforms, which affected both the stability and performance of the political and military elite, for example by strengthening the authority and oversight of the Senate through the lex Ovinia.63 The appearance of an astonishing number of homines novi in the fasti consulares, including recently enfranchised families like the Fulvii or Anicii, and also in other magistracies, strongly suggests a major reshuffling of the power balance within the Roman elite that also included people from recently conquered areas.64 At the same time, steps were taken to strengthen the military capacities of the res publica that included the doubling of the consular armies to two legions each, the regular mobilization of allied cohorts, and a wave of newly founded coloniae Latinae securing strategically important areas.65 Although the war continued for several years, Rome slowly gained the upper hand as a result of the mentioned efforts and was finally able to force the Samnites to sue for peace in 304. In contrast to earlier successes, the Roman victory did not result in a decrease in military activities. Instead, the military operations seamlessly blended into large scale follow-on campaigns that targeted peoples and regions beyond the traditional horizon of Roman military activities.66 Consequently, the intensity of Roman aggressiveness had changed substantially with the Second Samnite War, both in regard to the strength and range of Roman forces. A major propellant for this new level of aggression was probably the expansion of the consular armies to two legions and two alae each, which massively increased the success chances and consequently the appeal of military campaigns and might have further entrenched expectations in regard to their execution and benefits. Pointedly said, the setbacks against the Samnites and the temporary breakdown of Roman hegemony in parts of Campania and Latium had stimulated the creation of a powerful military force that was not disbanded upon the conclusion of the conflict but further employed although the immediate need for its mobilization had passed.67 In this context, the resurgence of Roman fortunes also provided a steady 63 64

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Cornell (2000b) passim; Hölkeskamp (2011) 142–147. L. Fulvius Curvus was from Tusculum (Liv. 8.38.1; Plin. HN 7.136) and Q. Anicius from Praeneste (Gell. NA 7.9; Plin. HN 33.17). On the changing composition of the Roman elite see Beck (2005a) 147–154; Humm (2005) 133–184; Hölkeskamp (2011) 177–181; Terrenato (2019) 183–193; Helm (2022a) 325–334. Cf. Taylor (2013) 300–306. Cornell (1995) 366–367, 380–388. Humm (2005) 375–397 connects the military reforms to the political activities of the period. See Engerbeaud (2020) 272–277 for the conflicts that followed the Second Samnite War. See Taylor (2020b) 40–44 on the importance of the Samnite Wars for the evolution of the manipular legion. Also note his criticism of Armstrong (2020a), who interprets the Roman army of this period as a force whose primary asset was its ability to integrate different ‘bands’ of fighters. This does, however, ignore the decidedly different character of the legiones and the alae stressed by Jehne (2006) 244–255.

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flow of spoils that was in so far unprecedented, as it enriched a far larger number of soldiers on a rotational basis each year, thus encouraging the continuation of military campaigns.68 Once set in motion, the system of annually mobilizing a vast number of citizens and allies provided a regular opportunity for enrichment and seems to have quickly become self-enforcing.69 At the very least, it can be said that Roman attitudes towards warfare changed substantially during the Second Samnite War which established a practice of large-scale annual warfare. This shift in Roman practices becomes particularly evident in the context of the intensely memorized Pyrrhic War.70 In response to hostilities between Rome and Tarentum, the Epirote king Pyrrhus made landfall in Italy with a professional Hellenistic army, defeated the consul Laevinus in the battle at Heraclea in 280, and then marched to within 60 miles of Rome, gathering support along the way that included former Roman allies.71 In this situation Pyrrhus allegedly offered peace terms, which the wavering Senate seems to have been inclined to accept until the blind and infirm App. Claudius Caecus gave a furious speech and thus swayed the Senate to continue the fight.72 Considering the crushing defeat that Roman forces had suffered at the hands of Pyrrhus as well as the wavering loyalty of Rome’s allies, it is no surprise that the peace proposal had appealed to many a senator before Claudius’ intervention brought them into line. As a result of his sterling performance in the curia, the Pyrrhic War became an important threshold, since it was the last time that the Senate considered negotiating with an enemy on equal terms; a policy that was tenaciously followed through even in the costly Punic Wars.73 VII The New Visibility of Spoils The astonishing Roman will to prevail might also have been due to the fact that the cessation of hostilities against Pyrrhus would have severely limited Roman influence in Italy and its capacity to maintain the by then established model of annual warfare.74 68 69 70 71 72

73 74

The first attested triumph is a case in point, since the victorious consuls Carvilius and Papirius both enriched their soldiers, albeit to different degrees, which caused some criticism: Liv. 10.46. Harris (1979) 24–26; Hölkeskamp (1993) 32–37; Cornell (1995) 364–368; Scopacasa (2016) 43–47. Kent (2020) 1–22; cf. Baron (2013) 38–42. Note how the memory of the Pyrrhic War ranked second behind the Hannibalic War: Liv. 31.7. Kent (2020) 47–50. According to Plut. Pyr. 18–19 and Zon. 8.4, Pyrrhus had offered peace and friendship, while App. Sam. 10, and Liv. Per. 13.10 speak of a truce. In contrast, BNJ 839 (Ineditum Vaticanum) F 1,2 specifies that the peace would have reduced Rome’s sphere of influence to only include Latium. Cf. Kent (2020) 63–69. The importance of the speech is reflected by it being the first to go on record: Cic. Brut. 61, Sen. Ep. 19.5.13; see Beck (2005a) 159–164, 185–186; Humm (2005) 64–71. Cf. Rosenstein (2007) 236. Cornell (1995) 366–367; Kent (2020) 68–69.

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In regard to the latter, the exhibition of spoils taken during the Samnite Wars indicates that the populus Romanus was increasingly exposed to an urban landscape in which spoils symbolized the crucial role that warfare played for the prosperity of the community. A particularly well-researched area in this regard has been the changing monumental landscape of Rome, which experienced an unprecedented boom of victory monuments and temples dedicated and financed by victorious generals. Although such monuments had already been erected in previous periods, the second half of the century, and especially the period of the Samnite Wars, saw a huge investment in these areas.75 The new quality that dedications achieved around this time is impressively demonstrated by the first recorded battlefield vow to build a temple by the consul C. Iunius Bubulcus Brutus during his consulship in 311. The significant military victory that he achieved seems to have justified this seemingly innovative step and practice, which was also remarkable in its choice of Salus, a female deity associated with the security and welfare of the Roman community and its citizens.76 Although little is known about Salus before this point, it nevertheless seems clear that Brutus deliberately emphasized the role of the citizen community in connection to the Roman war effort; a reasonable strategy in the wake of the mentioned military reforms. Salus set the pace for subsequent dedications to Concordia (304), Quirinus (293), Fors Fortuna (293), Consus (272), and maybe most explicitly to Fortuna Publica Populi Romani Quiritum (268), all of which served to celebrate the deeds of the commanding general while also emphasizing the glory and prosperity of the Roman citizen community.77 At the same time, the building of these temples also demonstrated the great benefits of successful Roman warfare, which was itself celebrated by the dedication of temples to Bellona (296) and Victoria (294) in the context of the Third Samnite War that established Roman dominance in Central Italy. The powerful mix of warfare, individual elite prestige, and public welfare evidenced by the temple constructions also appears in a number of new rituals and practices introduced during the Second Samnite War. Ritual processions in particular seem to have proliferated, since our sources tell us explicitly that the muster of the equites, that is the richest Romans serving in the cavalry, was turned into the transvectio equitum in 304 by the censor Q. Fabius Maximus Rullianus.78 The public procession of the iu-

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Padilla Peralta (2020) 31–41 stresses the importance of temple building for Roman state formation. Since the large wave of new temples from the late fourth century and successive periods were mostly financed by spoils, this would in turn suggest that permanent predatory warfare constituted a central component in this process and was also presented as such. 76 Liv. 10.1.9; Val. Max. 8.14.6; Plin. HN 35.19. Cf. Vé (2021) 105–126 on Quirinus. 77 Östenberg (2009) 91–93; Hölkeskamp (2011) 238–240; Davies (2017) 60–65; Hölscher (2019) 245–246; Padilla Peralta (2020) 82–108. Bernard (2018) 239–251, provides a catalogue of all building projects of this period. Linke (2013) 91–93 emphasizes the integrative power of the new cults. 78 Liv. 9.46.15; Val. Max. 2.2.9; Vir. Ill. 32; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 6.13. See Humm (2005) 153–155. Cf. Beck (2005b) 78–80, 94–95.

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ventus of the Roman elite – from the temple of Mars on the Via Appia between the first and second milestones through the Porta Capena, past the temple of Castor and Pollux, and up to the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus on the Capitol – cannot have failed to draw attention to the many temples and monuments that had sprung up along this route. A similar combination of military success, victory monuments, and processions can be observed in the context of the pompa funebris and the more representative burial sites of elites families, for example the tomb of the Cornelii Scipiones, which was also situated along the via Appia between the temple of Mars and the Porta Capena.79 In addition to the mentioned processions, it also stands to reason that the ritual of the triumphus and the pompa triumphalis, whose origins went back to the regal period, evolved during the period of the Samnite Wars, since the first reliable description of a triumph is attested for the year 293, which in itself indicates that greater attention was paid to record the amount of spoils brought in by victorious armies.80 The higher frequency of triumphs and the increasing quantity and quality of spoils in this period, from gold and silver to elephants, can be expected to have affected both the ritual as well as public perceptions and expectations in regard to the captured goods that were now regularly presented in triumphal processions.81 This hypothesis is supported by the exploding ubiquity of spoils in this period, both publicly in the form of victory monuments like the columna Duilia and privately in the form of spoils fastened to elite houses and in other contexts, for example the epitaph of L. Cornelius Scipio Barbatus.82 It is impossible to establish cause and effect of the increasing prominence of spoils and the unashamed display and recital of captured goods down to the very last penny, but at the end of the Second Samnite War, the various phenomena regarding the public appreciation of spoils were mutually reinforcing and heralded a new Roman mindset in regard to spoils. While spoils and dedications only appear infrequently throughout the fourth century, the Second Samnite War led to a veritable boom in victory monuments, temple dedications, public building projects, and individual displays of spoils that created a tight, interlocked symbolic web by the early third century, which emphasized the importance of spoils for the prosperity and harmony of the populus Romanus. The new processions, practices, and the increasing embellishment of the city with captured

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Plb. 6.53.1–54.1 describes the pompa funebris in detail. On the dating of the ritual to the late fourth century see Flower (1996) 63, 122–126; Blösel (2000) 37–45; Beck (2005b) 84–88. Hölkeskamp (2011) 221–227 points to the increased importance of the procession for the gentes at this time. On the Tomb of the Cornelii Scipiones see Flower (1996) 160–180; Zevi, in LTUR 4 (1999) 281–285. Liv. 10.46. See Harris (1979) 29–31; Hölkeskamp (2011) 236–238; Rich (2014) 216. Östenberg (2009) 58–71; Rich (2014) 207, 214–216; Milne (2020) 139–145. App. Pun. 66 provides a detailed description of the composition of the pompa triumphalis, see also Beck (2005b) 80–84. CIL VI 1285, which mentions conquered cities and hostages. More explicit is the later inscription of the columna Duilia, CIL VI 1300. Cf. Hölkeskamp in this volume p. 382. Liv. 22.57.10; Plb. 6.39.9– 11 mentions the conspicuous display of spoils in private houses; Hölscher (2019) 248–249.

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weapons, art pieces, and victory monuments of various kinds cannot have failed to make an impression on the citizen body.83 Although it is notoriously difficult to gain insights into the mindset of the wider population, we are nevertheless provided with a faint glimpse of the public perception of spoils in regard to the myth of Romulus, which is first attested for the second half of the fourth century.84 The myth regarding the twins of Romulus and Remus and their suckling by a she-wolf found its first expression in a statue set up by the aediles Cn. and Q. Ogulnius in 296.85 The story of the twins strongly evokes the necessity of predatory behaviour in order to sustain the community, most prominently through the rape of the Sabine women.86 Even more remarkable is the prominence of the she-wolf, since wolves normally evoke negative associations and were seen as genuine threats to human groups due to their cunning and rapaciousness.87 In Rome, however, the wolf was seen as a symbol of the community and life-giver to its founders, which naturally implies a positive reception of its qualities. Evidence for the latter is provided by Polybius who famously remarks that the velites of the legions wore wolf-pelts over their helmets in order to be easily distinguishable, a desire that probably related to the handing out of decorations and material rewards to deserving soldiers.88 Far from shunning the wolf, it became a trademark of the populus Romanus around the same time that annual warfare set in on a large-scale.89

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Hölkeskamp (2011) 233–240 and also Hölkeskamp in this volume. This new trend seems to have accelerated after the censorship of App. Claudius. In 310 L. Papirius Cursor adorned the tabernae on the Forum Romanum with captured golden shields (Liv. 9.40.16; note that his dictatorship in the following year 309 is problematic since this is one of the four dictator years), in 305 Q. Marcius Tremulus was granted an equestrian statue (Liv. 9.43.22–24; Plin. HN 34.23; RRC 293/1) and in 304 an oversized statue of Hercules was erected on the Capitol (Liv. 9.44.16). A particular highlight is the group of statues put up by the consul Carvilius, which included an oversized statue of Jupiter made from captured arms and a smaller statue right next to it of the consul himself (Plin. HN 34.43). Cf. Milne (2020) 145–152. Rüpke (2019) 247–249, also emphasizes the changing religious construction of warfare in the mid-republican period. 84 BNJ 560 F 4: “Alkimos said that Romulus was the son born to Aeneas and Tyrrhenia and that Romulus’ daughter Alba was the granddaughter of Aeneas whose son – Rhodius by name – founded the city of Rome”. See Wiseman (1995) 72–76. 85 Liv. 10.23.10–13; Plin. HN 15.77. 86 Wiseman (1995) 76, 126–128. 87 This was elaborated on in detail by Pauline Ripat in an excellent presentation at the CAC in St. John’s in 2017. The kindly provided manuscript has not been published yet. 88 Plb. 6.22.3. In this context, Plautus’ frequent allusions to spoils are also interesting and it is telling that at the end of the Plautine prologue, the speaker commonly wishes the audience success in war, Plaut. Asin. 15, Capt. 67–68, Cas. 87–88, Rud. 82. 89 RRC 20/1, 235/1. The pivotal Battle of Sentinum in 295 also features a story about a wolf chasing a deer in front of the assembling Roman and Celtic lines of battle. Whereas the Celts killed the deer that had sought to escape through their ranks, the Romans left the wolf untouched. A soldier in the front ranks interpreted the event for his comrades: ‘Here, as victor, is Mars’ wolf, whole and untouched,’ he cried, ‘reminding us of our Martial origins and founders!’ (Liv. 10.27.9: hinc victor Martius lupus, integer et intactus, gentis nos Martiae et conditores nostri admonuit).

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VIII Conclusion The military history of the Roman Republic in the fourth century was undoubtedly a successful one. Nevertheless, it has been demonstrated that there is little evidence for an early Roman exceptionality in regard to warfare, since other regional powers in the Mediterranean exhibited similar strategies and developments. The introduction of tributum and stipendium did not necessarily mean a transition to annual warfare on a grand scale, although it certainly provided an important basis for such a practice. In fact, only a limited number of military operations resulted in significant victories and changes to Roman society and territory throughout the fourth century, while inconsequential raiding can be expected to have been the norm for most of the period. Although this picture refutes the idea of annual warfare geared towards the acquisition of spoils, the conquest of Veii and the consequent introduction of new tribus certainly opened up new possibilities and might have emphasized the potential for solving domestic issues through the distribution of plundered resources. This potential was only irregularly realized throughout the subsequent decades but nevertheless resulted in a steady expansion of Roman territory and influence. It was not until the massive challenges and crises of the Samnite Wars that a transformation set in that drastically improved Roman abilities to acquire spoils. The creation of an annual levy of at least 30,000 Roman and Italian fighters provided both a powerful tool for predatory warfare and a greatly increased distribution range due to the recruitment of new soldiers every year. It can be no coincidence that spoils of war attained greater prominence around the same time and were displayed in a way that emphasized the importance of warfare and its rewards for the well-being and prosperity of the populus Romanus. Romans might not have been born to plunder, but they had certainly come to perceive constant warfare and the acquisition of spoils as a beneficial and necessary part of their civic duties by the early third century. Marian Helm Westfälische Wilhelms Universität Münster [email protected]

Spoils in the Middle Republic – Value and Impact The Changing Nature of Spoils in the Middle Republic

The Grand Strategy? Spoils and Colonization in the Fourth and Third Centuries BCE Saskia T. Roselaar I Introduction During the conquest of Italy in the fifth to second century BCE, the Roman state regularly confiscated land from its defeated enemies, thus turning the land into a specific form of spoils. This land then became ager publicus, land owned by the Roman state. The Romans used this land for various purposes, of which the most important was the settlement of colonies: communities of settlers who were given plots of ager publicus to work.1 Scholarship, as will be discussed below, has often argued that the colonies were settled in such a way that they strengthened the strategic interests of the Roman state. In this way, colonies provided an essential connection between land as a spoil of war on the one hand, in the sense that soldiers who fought in the wars could receive a plot of land in a colony, and the strengthening of the Roman state on the other.2 This paper will investigate in more detail the role of colonies and particularly the role they played in the expansion of the Roman dominion and its strategic position in the Italian peninsula. Firstly, the paper will investigate the use of ager publicus in the fourth century. As will become clear, some important changes took place in the way that land taken as spoils was used in the later fourth century, as compared to the earlier period. This may have been the result of a general change in Roman strategy after the Latin War (341–338), when the Roman state created more coherent policies with regard to colonization. Secondly, the paper will revisit previous scholarship regarding the role of colonies in the military strategy of the Roman state. Finally, the paper will investigate what legal arrangements the Roman state made with regard to the role of colonies in the strategy of consolidating and expanding Rome’s dominion in Italy. Thus, this paper aims to shed new light onto the role that the Roman state expected

1 2

On this land, see Roselaar (2010). See Bertrand in this volume for an analysis of the process of colonization.

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land – a unique type of spoils – to play in the Roman strategy regarding the expansion of power in Italy. II The Uses of Ager Publicus in the Fourth and Third Centuries The first part of this paper builds on a paper recently published by James Tan.3 He argues that after the Latin War, the Roman state created a coherent system that maximized the profits that it could draw from its growing dominion in Italy. Tan argues that the Roman state was primarily interested in widening its tax base, as well as contributions of manpower by allies. Therefore, the Romans devised various methods to gain as much as possible from their citizens and allies. In the fifth and fourth centuries, Rome had employed basically three ways of dealing with defeated peoples. The first method was to grant defeated peoples the Roman citizenship, which meant that they were obliged to pay taxes to Rome. The citizenship has often been seen as a reward,4 but Tan rightly argues that this was not the case: the most important obligation of citizens was to pay taxes to the Roman state. It was therefore a mechanism of subjugation to Rome. Another option was to take part of the land from the defeated people and distribute it to Roman citizen settlers. The aim of these grants was to maintain a high number of assidui, since they paid tributum.5 Citizens who received land were able to pay this tax and thus able to contribute financially to Rome’s wars. The distribution of land in the fourth century usually occurred in viritane settlements, organised in tribus. New tribus were created regularly in the fourth century, namely ten times,6 suggesting that land was distributed on a fairly regular basis. Finally, some peoples remained allied. They were not obliged to pay taxes, but supplied soldiers to the Roman army. In the fourth century, the allied status seems to have been reserved for trusted partners – indeed, those who were made citizens were worse off, since they had to pay taxes as well as supply soldiers. Allies were still sometimes punished with the confiscation of land, but this was not always the case.7 For various reasons, as Tan argues, these three strategies were no longer sufficient when Rome’s hegemony in Italy grew. After the Latin War (341–338), the Romans gradually embarked on the conquest of Italy as a whole, leading to the creation of a large-scale system of allies subject to Roman hegemony. The Latin War seems to have 3 4 5 6 7

Tan (2020). E. g. Galsterer (1976) 65; see Tan (2020) 55–58. I assume here that the tributum was established in 406, although this is sometimes questioned; see Crawford (1985) 22–23; Mersing (2007); Tan (2020) 53–54, with further references; Taylor in this volume. Roselaar (2010) 55. Tan (2020) 59.

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been a watershed in the way the Roman state treated its allies, and especially the land that was taken from them during conquest. A more coherent system of dealing with the defeated peoples of Italy was now devised. This made use of methods that had been already used in the previous period, but also added new strategies that ensured that Rome collected the maximum possible amount of tax, and recruited the maximum number of soldiers for the Roman army. The method of granting, or rather imposing, citizenship on defeated allies became less common. The same seems to have happened to viritane distributions, which became rare after the fourth century. Only the tribus Aniensis and Teretina (in 299) and the Velina and Quirina (in 241) were created in the third century.8 Some viritane distributions took place without the establishment of tribus: a distribution in Sabinum in 2909 and in the Ager Gallicus in 232.10 We may conclude that viritane distributions largely ceased after the early third century; only in the early second century a few more instances appear.11 Clearly this kind of land distribution was deemed no longer suitable after the early third century. Various explanations may be given: perhaps it was less attractive from a strategic point of view, as a settlement of individuals without a central focus point (a colonial city) was less easy to defend. Perhaps also the cessation of viritane settlements was related to the nature of the settlers. It is usually assumed that the settlers in colonies were veterans, who had participated in recent wars and received land as their share of the spoils. Thus, with their experience in war, they could act in the case of an attack against the colony. It may be that the settlers in viritane settle­ments were mostly poor citizens, rather than veterans, and could therefore not be depended on to defend newly conquered areas.12 The Roman state expanded quickly, and in the third century almost all land available for settlement was located in newly conquered areas, so that enemy action was always a possibility. Thus, settlements of citizens without military experience, in a location without a central ‘fortress’, were no longer useful.13 However, the categories of ‘veterans’ and ‘poor, landless citizens’ were not mutually exclusive. As Rosenstein argued, the soldiers of the Roman army were

Aniensis and Teretina: Liv. 10.9.14; Velina and Quirina: Liv. Per. 19.15. Colum. 1.pr.14; Plut. Apophth. M’. Curii 1; Front. Strat. 4.3.12; Cass. Dio 8.37.1. See Cornell (1989a) 403. 10 Cic. Inv. 2.52. See also Sen. 4.11, Acad. Pr. 5.13, Brut. 14.57; Val. Max. 5.4.5. 11 In Samnium and Apulia land was distributed to Scipio’s veterans in 200 (Liv. 31.4.1–3.); in 173 land in Cisalpine Gaul was handed out (Liv. 42.4.3). However, the situation in the early second century was fundamentally different with regard to population developments, economic developments and demand for land (see Roselaar 2010, 289), and motivations for viritane distributions in this period cannot therefore be compared with those in earlier periods. 12 The need for defense was not only hypothetical: see Patterson (2006a) 200–203 for various examples of attacks on colonies. 13 Roselaar (2010) 57. 8 9

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mostly younger sons of Roman citizens, who could not expect to inherit much land from their fathers and therefore relied on colonization to acquire their own farms.14 Instead, the Roman state created an important innovation: the status of civitas sine suffragio. This status was especially created to exploit to the maximum extent those allies, who were wealthy and able to pay taxes, but could not be given full citizenship for some reason. Tan convincingly argues that the civitas sine suffragio indeed paid tributum, which was very welcome given the rising costs of war in the late fourth century.15 Finally, the Roman state increasingly chose to distribute the land it had taken as spoils in order to create colonies of Latin or Roman status. In Latin colonies, the ­settlers were not Roman citizens, but were granted the newly created Latin status. One reason for the creation of this new status is that Latin colonies were intended as military outposts in enemy territory. Therefore, they had to be able to act independently in case of attack; it would make no sense to subject them to the dilectus in Rome. A further benefit of the creation of Latin colonies was that those colonists who had originally been Roman citizens no longer qualified for stipendium, which lessened the financial burden on the Roman state.16 In some colonies, however, the settlers retained the Roman citizenship. These were mostly small coastguard garrisons, which could not effectively function as independent towns, in contrast to the Latin colonies, as we shall see below. Therefore, the Roman state granted the settlers here the right to remain citizens, and assigned them a specific task in the Roman strategy within Italy.17 Most of the areas in Italy which were subjected to Roman hegemony in this period remained allied. In many cases, their defeat was accompanied by confiscations of land by the Roman state. Some of this was used to settle colonies, while other land remained ager publicus owned by the Roman state. The Italian allies did not pay taxes to Rome, but they did furnish soldiers. The reasons why they were not subjected to taxation varied, as Tan shows: some were not very wealthy; for others their wealth was difficult to measure in terms of individual landed property, as the census did, since they did not use the same systems of land ownership as the Romans. Rome therefore did not bother to impose tributum on them, and simply availed itself of their most valuable resource: their men.18 This system as described by Tan on the one hand maximized the contributions of the defeated Italians in money and men, and on the other hand rewarded all those who fought in Rome’s wars with a part of the spoils – Latins could receive land in Latin

14 15 16 17 18

Rosenstein (2004) 82–88. Tan (2020) 60–67. Tan (2020) 70–73; see Taylor in this volume. Roselaar (2009). Tan (2020) 68. See also Fronda (2010) 29, 290. Older views, e. g. Toynbee (1965) 1.272, argued that Rome’s dominion was mild in respect of taxation, but see Harris (1979) 61, who sees land as the most important asset taken by Rome.

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colonies, while Italian allies usually received moveable wealth.19 The Roman state also introduced a specific and coherent method of handling the land it confiscated, and clearly delineated the powers and duties of those who lived in the colonies, as we will see below. Thus, it could maintain close control over Italy and the system of allies it needed to maintain and expand its power. Nevertheless, there were several anomalies within this theoretically neat system. The most important was the fact that there was still ager publicus which was not put to any particular use. It turned out that the control of the state over the remaining ager publicus was rather shaky, as I have discussed elsewhere.20 III What Was a Colony? As Tan describes it, the Roman system of colonization from the late fourth century onwards seems to have been a well-organized system, created at a specific moment and intended to last for a long time. In this system, colonies played an important role, as their inhabitants held a specific legal status – Roman or Latin –, which imposed specific duties and privileges on the colonists. In other words, we might speak of a long-term strategy that laid down the function of colonies in the Roman Republic. Traditionally, scholarship has maintained that there were two types of colonies, ‘Latin’ and ‘Roman’, each with specific legal rights and duties (discussed in section 4). Salmon’s 1969 work, for example, uses these standard legal categories for colonies in his chapter titles. However, various scholars, most notably Crawford and Bispham,21 suggest that in the earlier Republic the definition of the concept colonia was not yet clear, and that the definition of a colony as a state-organized settlement did not emerge until the late second century. A clear delineation between ‘Latin’ and ‘Roman’ colonies similarly was not created until the second century. This standardization eliminated earlier ‘marginal’ cases of colonization, i. e. colonization movements not organized by the state. However, I have argued elsewhere that the legal status of Latin and Roman colonies had been defined at least by the third century,22 and will review the argument here with regard to colonies as a way of distributing land taken as spoils of war. Various pieces of evidence are used to argue that the definition between Roman and Latin colonies was unclear up until the second century. An important passage often cited is Liv. 27.9.7, in which he discusses Latin colonies which in 209 defaulted on their obligation to supply soldiers:

19 20 21 22

See Gauthier in this volume. Roselaar (2010) 119–121; (2019) 205–210. Crawford (1995); Bispham (2006). Roselaar (2019) 128–132.

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There were at that time thirty colonies of the Roman state. Of these, while delegations from them all were at Rome, twelve informed the consuls that they had no means of furnishing soldiers and money. … They were not Capuans nor Tarentines, but Romans, sprung from Rome and sent thence into colonies and on land captured in war, to increase their race. All that children owed to their parents they owed, it was said, to the Romans, if there was any filial affection, any memory of their former city.23

These colonies are usually considered Latin colonies, but Livy uses the term coloniae populi Romani (‘colonies of the Roman people’), which leads Bispham to suggest that the difference between the two categories was not as clear as is often thought. However, given the second part of Livy’s text, it is clear that coloniae populi Romani refers to the origins of these colonists, rather than their legal status: they were originally from Rome, and therefore owed loyalty to Rome and should send soldiers. Livy’s wording clearly states that he is not discussing legal status, as he calls them ‘colonies of the Roman people’, rather than ‘colonies of Roman citizens’ or another possible turn of phrase. For colonies where the inhabitants actually held Roman rights, Livy usually uses the term coloniae maritimae.24 Bispham also notes that Velleius Paterculus lists all colonies, both Latin and Roman, without distinction, suggesting that the difference was unclear or unimportant: I have decided … to insert in this place an account, with the date, of each colony founded by order of the senate since the capture of Rome by the Gauls; for, in the case of the military colonies, their very names reveal their origins and their founders. And it will perhaps not seem out of place, if, in this connection, we weave into our history the various extensions of the citizenship and the growth of the Roman name through granting to others a share in its privileges.25

However, there is a reason for Velleius’ lack of distinction. At the start, he clearly establishes the aim of his list: to describe the expansion of Roman citizenship throughout the Italian peninsula. It was therefore not useful for his argument to distinguish be23

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Liv. 27.9.7, 11: Triginta tum coloniae populi Romani erant; ex iis duodecim, cum omnium legationes Romae essent, negaverunt consulibus esse, unde milites pecuniamque darent. Eae fuere Ardea, Nepete, Sutrium, Alba, Carseoli, Sora, Suessa, Circei, Setia, Cales, Narnia, Interamna. … Inde in colonias atque in agrum bello captum stirpis augendae causa missos. Quae liberi parentibus deberent, ea illos Romanis debere, si ulla pietas, si memoria antiquae patriae esset. See Bispham (2006) 82–83. He once calls these colonies coloniae Romanae (Liv. 34.42.5), but in this passage he expressly refers to the Roman citizenship that came with settlement in these colonies, which makes this a fitting description. See Sherwin-White (1973) 99–100. Vell. Pat. 1.14.1: Statui … atque huic loco inserere, quae quoque tempore post Romam a Gallis captam deducta sit colonia iussu senatus; nam militarium et causae et auctores ex ipsarum praefulgent nomina. Huic rei per idem tempus civitates propagatas auctumque Romanum nomen communione iuris haud intempestive subtexturi videmur. See Bispham (2006) 82, who argues that the fact that Velleius makes no distinction between Latin and Roman colonies suggests that this distinction was either unclear to later writers, or unimportant during the Republican period.

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tween Latin and Roman colonies; especially since after the Social War, when Velleius was writing, these towns had all been given the Roman citizenship. Indeed, he not only mentions colonies, but also extensions of citizenship through grants of full citizenship or civitas sine suffragio by the Roman state. This explanation focusing on the personal status of colonists, rather than that of the towns in which they lived, ties in with Pelgrom’s argument that colonies were not organized as territorial states.26 In contrast to older scholarship,27 Pelgrom focuses on the way Livy describes colonial foundations as being ‘brought’ or ‘sent’ to a place (deducere, mittere).28 This suggests that colonies were not places, but mobile entities; a colonia was a body of coloni, that is, a Personalgemeinde rather than a Territorialgemeinde.29 In all colonial towns, many people lived who were not part of the official group of ­settlers and therefore did not enjoy the Roman or Latin rights that the colonists enjoyed. These people were either original inhabitants who had remained there after the colonial foundation, or people who had moved there after the colony had been founded. Therefore, even in colonial towns there were two politically separate communities, one consisting of colonists and the other of natives and immigrants, sharing a single territory. The title of colonist applied to the people, not to the town and its territory.30 From this section we may conclude that the arguments against a clear definition of the concept of the colony do not seem convincing. In the next sections, I will argue that at least since the early third century, the concept of a colony, and of distinct Latin and Roman colonies, was clearly established. We will start off with a brief discussion of the rights and obligations of these types of colonies, in order to further determine what role they played in the strategy of the Roman state in the middle Republic. IV The Legal Status of Latin and Roman Colonies As already discussed, the colonies were expected to act independently in case of attacks by enemy forces. They were not able to communicate with Rome regarding all aspects of the defence. This suggests that they could not, nor were expected to, communicate with Rome regarding other details of local government.31 It is therefore worthwhile to 26 27 28 29 30 31

Pelgrom (2014) 76–83. E. g. Salmon (1969) 14: ‘… a colonia was a city-state. It was not a geographical region or administrative subdivision of the Roman state but an urban commonwealth with its immediate surrounding territory’. Liv. 8.14.7–8, 8.16.13, 8.22.2. Kahrstedt (1959) 206. Pelgrom (2014) 82; he uses the word ‘natives’ to indicate the non-colonists, but this ignores migration into the colony at a later date. See on the status of incolae Kahrstedt (1959); Laffi (1966) 76–83; Bradley (2006) 173–176; Roselaar (2011). In the first century BCE and later, municipia also enjoyed great levels of autonomy, see Ando (2019).

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look at the institutional relations that were created between Rome and its colonies. I have argued elsewhere that the Roman state created fixed legal regulations for both the Latin and the Roman colonies;32 here I will briefly summarize these views, as they pertain to the argument made here. In my view, those who were officially settled in Latin colonies received three rights: the ius commercii, (‘right to trade’), the ius conubii (‘right to marry’) and the ius migrationis, the ‘right to migrate’.33 The ius commercii was a right that could be granted to non-citizens, i. e. peregrini; since Roman citizens who became Latin colonists lost their Roman citizenship, they fell into the category of peregrini. This right was essential for trade in res mancipi, which included Ager Romanus (land owned by Roman citizens or the Roman state), buildings on Ager Romanus, slaves, horses, mules, cattle, and certain rustic servitutes. These items could only be transferred through mancipatio.34 Only Roman citizens could transfer property by this method. If a foreigner wanted to transfer such items, it is usually assumed that he needed the right to participate in the transfer of res mancipi. This could be achieved by either gaining citizenship or the ius commercii. However, peregrini could certainly trade res mancipi with Romans, if one party was unable to participate in mancipatio. In such cases, ownership could be transferred by traditio,35 but in that case the peregrinus did not enjoy the protection of Roman law courts in case of a dispute.36 Still, by means of an actio ficticia, the praetor could treat a peregrine plaintiff as a Roman citizen, when in fact he was not.37 This means that peregrini who disputed a res mancipi, even if they did not have the right to participate in mancipatio, might be protected in a Roman court of law. On the other hand, this protection was not certain, as the praetor did not automatically apply such fictions. Therefore, not having the right to access mancipatio was a problem for a peregrinus: he could never be certain that his ownership would be protected by the praetor.38 Further limitations on economic relations may have been created by the lack of conubium, the right that allowed peregrini to marry Roman citizens.39 A lack of conubium could have serious consequences for inheritances within families that included people of different civic statuses. For example, if a Roman citizen father had a peregrinus son, the son could not inherit from his father, which would severely damage his economic opportunities. If many settlers in Latin colonies were of Roman origin, they would have wanted to receive inheritances from or bequeath to their family members who had remained Roman citizens. The possession of conubium was therefore closely 32 See Roselaar (2009; 2013a; 2013b; 2019). 33 For commercium and conubium in more detail, see Roselaar (2013a; 2013b). 34 Gaius 1.119–120. 35 Kaser (1953) 151–152. 36 Bernardi (1973) 84. 37 Ando (2015). 38 Kaser (1953) 137. 39 See Roselaar (2013b).

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connected to commercium: since inheritances could include res mancipi, peregrini could not inherit from Romans without being allowed to take part in mancipatio. Therefore, if Latin colonists received commercium as a privilege, it would make sense that they also received conubium. Furthermore, the possession of commercium and conubium was strongly connected to a third privilege, ius migrationis, as we will discuss next. A passage from Livy about the year 177 shows the existence of ius migrationis for Latin colonists. It discusses various fraudulent ways in which Latin colonists attempted to gain Roman citizenship: ‘By law Latin allies were entitled to become Roman citizens as long as they left a son of their own at home. In abusing this law some men committed an injustice against the allies and some against the Roman people. To avoid the necessity of leaving a son at home, men would hand their sons over (mancipio dabant) as slaves to anyone with Roman citizenship, on the condition that the sons would be manumitted; and as freedmen become citizens. Men with no offspring to leave behind adopted sons to become Roman citizens.’40

This passage sheds light on the ius migrationis: the Latins’ right to migrate to Rome was subject to a specific condition, namely to leave a son behind in the colony. Limitations on the ius migrationis are also shown by events in 187, when the Roman Senate was asked by some Latin colonies to return to them people who had moved to Rome.41 Rome then ordered these people to return home. Obviously, if all Latin colonists had the right to migrate to Rome, then the Roman state could not expel them from the city. Since many Latin colonists were originally from Rome,42 it makes sense that they were allowed to return to Rome, as long as they left a son behind in their colony. Having an opportunity to return made it more attractive for Roman citizens to join a colony. For the state, this arrangement assured that the colonies, which were strategically important, remained at full strength. A similar concern lay behind the rule that the inhabitants of colonies with Roman citizenship status (the coloniae maritimae) enjoyed vacatio militiae: they did not have to serve in the regular army, because they were explicitly tasked with manning the coastal garrisons.43 40

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Liv. 41.8.8–10: Lex sociis nominis Latini, qui stirpem ex sese domi relinquerent, dabat, ut cives Romani fierent. Ea lege male utendo alii sociis, alii populo Romano iniuriam faciebant. Nam et ne stirpem domi relinquerent, liberos suos quibusquibus Romanis in eam condicionem, ut manu mitterentur, mancipio dabant, libertinique cives essent; et quibus stirps deesset, quam relinquerent, ut < . . . > cives Romani fiebant. See Laffi (1995). Liv. 39.3.4–5. Cornell (1995) 367–368. For these colonies, which were intended as coastal garrisons, intricate regulations existed to maintain the colonist contingent at full strength; see Humbert (1978) 115–116; Roselaar (2009). Erdkamp (2011) 124–136 argues that Latin colonists were allowed to migrate wherever they wished. However, the examples he gives, e. g. the abandonment of Sipontum and Buxentum in 186 (which were actually Roman colonies; see Liv. 39.23.3), show that the Roman state was highly concerned about the manpower of its colonies: it repopulated the colonies immediately.

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Therefore, I have suggested that Latin colonists were granted commercium and conubium, together with ius migrationis, as a standard package. This would on the one hand ensure that the manpower of the colonies remained at full strength, and at the same time make joining a colony more attractive, because the colonists could maintain relations with their families in Rome and in other Latin colonies, who would still be able to inherit from and bequeath to them.44 The inhabitants of Roman colonies were Roman citizens, so they did not need a special grant of privileges, but were similarly subject to detailed regulations in order to maintain the manpower of the colonial towns. V Colonies and Strategy Colonies have long been ascribed a crucial role in Republican strategy, both in the ancient sources and in scholarship. Famously, Cicero described the role of colonies as follows: ‘It is worthwhile to recollect the diligence exhibited by our ancestors, who established colonies in such suitable places to guard against all suspicion of danger, that they appeared to be not so much towns of Italy as bulwarks of empire’ (propugnacula imperii).45 This suggests that colonies played an essential role in the expansion of the Roman Republic and especially the defence of newly conquered territories. Following this statement, the idea that colonies played an essential role in the strategy of the Roman state has often been repeated in scholarship, most forcefully by Salmon in his 1969 work Roman colonization under the Republic.46 Salmon placed special emphasis on the strategic locations in which the colonies were placed. He describes them in military terms, such as ‘stronghold’, ‘fortress’, ‘key point’ etc.47 The colony of Cales is described as having ‘dominated’ a communication route,48 while Fregellae ‘controlled’ various key roads.49 Luceria is described as a ‘bastion’ and “the key to the eastern approaches to Samnium”.50 Other scholars have followed this lead. For example, Coarelli investigated the systematic way in which colonies were settled in conquered territory and their connection with the consular roads built by Rome, which allowed Roman armies to quickly reach all parts of the peninsula.51 Bernardi (1973) 68, argues that there was no conubium between the colonists of different colonies, but this is unlikely, since members of the same family might go to different colonies. 45 Cic. Leg. agr. 2.73; similar statements in Cic. Font. 1; Hor. Sat. 2.1.35. 46 See a detailed analysis of Salmon’s position in Pelgrom & Stek (2014) 18–26. 47 Salmon (1967) 19–20; (1969) 43. 48 Salmon (1969) 55. 49 Salmon (1967) 212; (1969) 57. 50 Salmon (1969) 58. Saticula is described as a “border fortress” and Suessa a “stronghold controlling one of the roads to Capua”; Interamna is located at “an important river crossing” (1969, 58–59). See Salmon (1969) 417, for Aesernia, 443 for Sora, 446 for Venusia. 51 Coarelli (1988); (1992a) 27–28. Other works follow this stance, e. g. Gabba (1988) 21. In the Blackwell Companion series, Roman colonization is discussed in the volume dealing with the Roman 44

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The specific regulations described in the previous paragraph, which ensured that the colonies could play a role in the defense of the surrounding territory, confirm in my view that the main aim of colonization was to ensure that the conquered land was safeguarded. However, this does not mean that other functions of colonies were ignored by the Roman Senate. In scholarship, this strategic emphasis means that other aspects are often ignored; it often seems as if scholars assume that colonies could only have one function: either they were military strongholds, or they provided land for landless citizens,52 or they had a ‘Romanizing’ function, in that they made Roman culture familiar throughout Italy.53 However, one function is not incompatible with the others. It can hardly be denied that colonies were located at strategic locations that enabled the Roman state to maintain strong control over the newly conquered territories, while a large settlement of people with a Roman or Latin background was bound to have some influence on the local cultures of the area.54 The strategic aspect was the one the Roman state could most directly influence: the state (represented by the Senate) decided where a colony would be located, how it was connected to the road system, and who would be the settlers. Whether it had a Romanizing effect on its surroundings, or developed into a flourishing economic centre, depended on factors beyond the state’s control. Of course, colonies had to be independent in the economic sense and therefore the state picked locations that were suitable to subsistence, but it did not care whether the colony developed beyond subsistence agriculture.55 Thus, indeed the main aim of the colonies was strategic, in the sense that they protected the recently conquered areas of Italy, and served as a symbol of Roman dominance over Italy.56 Therefore, it is quite possible to find a ‘middle ground’ in the debate regarding the strategic role of colonies. Bradley shows that colonial foundations and infrastructure projects depended on the initiative of individual politicians and generals, even if the Senate generally approved them.57 The late fourth century seems to have been a crucial period with regard to the development of the powers of the Senate. The Lex Ovinia, dated to this period, formalized the powers of the Senate, in that it created a more permanent body elected by the censors. The aristocracy that made up the Senate consisted of highly competitive individuals, who were fighting for their own position. Never­

52 53 54 55 56 57

army (Erdkamp 2010b), stressing the strategic function of colonies rather than other aspects. See Pelgrom (2012) 6–7, for discussion. Oakley (1993) 18–22; Patterson (2006a) 195. See Lomas (2004) 209; contra Salmon (1936) 52. Oakley (1993) 19; Patterson (2006a) 189–191. Many colonies developed into flourishing economic centres, but others were less successful, see Roselaar (2019) 97–115. Bispham (2006) 76; Fronda (2010) 23. See Bertrand in this volume on the role of individual generals the distribution of spoils, including colonization.

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theless, the Senators knew what they were looking for in choosing the location for a colony: a town in a location that ensured the defence of newly conquered territory, and was located in an area in which the inhabitants could support themselves economically. These requirements remained the same throughout the fourth and third centuries, and in this sense we may speak of a long-term strategy with regard to colonization.58 This means that the preconditions for the formulation of long-term strategic thinking were now present.59 Bradley therefore concludes: ‘The development of Mid-Republican colonization, beginning on a large scale from the foundation of Cales in 334 B. C., and the associated road system, was less the product of an overall guiding senatorial strategy, and more a case of structural pressures operating in certain directions. Colonies and roads enhanced the political support and social status of their founders, as land distributions and employment opportunities were popular with the plebs. … However, the hypothesis that there was a grand strategy for the conquest of Italy which guided Roman colonization in the Mid-Republic is a product of hindsight. … The fiercely competitive ethos of the Roman elite, renewed by the admission of plebeians to the highest offices and priesthoods from the later 4th c. B. C., drove these projects forward without any need of a senatorial strategy, at least in its earliest phases. There is no doubt that Rome did develop an aspiration to control all of Italy, and in this sense a longer-term strategy did develop in the 3rd c. B. C.’60

The assumption that a strategic reason was behind the establishment of colonies can be strengthened by looking at the areas where colonies were not founded. An example is the Upper Sabina Tiberina, conquered in early third century. Here, instead of colonies, fora were founded, a kind of market places in areas where viritane distribution had taken place, such as Forum Novum. There was no need for a colony in the area, as there was no danger of insurrection by the local population. Furthermore, the area was close to Rome and very fertile, and thus prime land for commercial investment. Many Roman Senators invested in land here, suggesting that they preferred to keep the land for themselves rather than assign it to veterans or landless citizens.61 From this section we may conclude that colonies indeed fulfilled a strategic role within the Roman state’s expansion policy. In addition, they were used to distribute spoils to veterans; as noted above, the soldiers of the Roman army were mostly younger sons, who could not inherit much land from their fathers and therefore relied on colonization to acquire their own farms.62 The fact that they had military experience made them ideal settlers in colonies located in recently subjected regions. The ques-

58 59 60 61 62

See on the role of the Senate and its individual members, Terrenato (2019). Hölkeskamp (1993) 34–35; Bradley (2014) 66. Bradley (2014) 70. Farney (2019). Rosenstein (2004) 82–88.

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tion remains when this system was created: a system in which a clear strategic aim was achieved, namely to secure newly conquered areas, and in which two types of colonies, each with specific rights and duties, each played their role. VI When Was the System Created? Tan suggests that this system was created quite soon after the Latin War.63 After the Latin War, Eckstein argues, four developments coincided, which greatly impacted the power dynamics in Italy and the development of the Roman state: 1. Victory over the Latins gave Rome control over Latin manpower. 2. More relations were created with allies further away, based on joint warfare, so that continual war – with the concomitant spoils – was necessary to maintain the bond. 3. Roman victories led to distribution of confiscated land to Roman, Latin and allied poor. 4. The consulship was now open to the new plebeian elite, who needed war to legitimize their place in society.64 This meant that the Latin War was a turning point in many respects, including the history of colonization. After the war, the status of colonies was quite clear; despite the personal involvement of individual senators in colonial foundations,65 the Senate seems to have taken the lead. As the leading political body, it formulated a clear and coherent policy for the confiscation of land as spoils of war, and ways to use this land to the strategic advantage of the Roman state. Nevertheless, the consequences of these four developments were not visible immediately after the Latin War. It is therefore to be expected that a period of experiment followed, and that definitive arrangements were only made some time later. The evidence for regulations to maintain the manpower of colonies – whether Latin or Roman – is mostly dated to the Second Punic War. The regulations regarding vacatio militiae for Roman colonies were, however, not introduced at that time, but apparently earlier.66 The requirement for Latin colonists to leave a son behind in the colony is mentioned for the first time in 177, but was already in force before that, although we do not know when it was introduced.67 This means that we cannot assume that the civic

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He does not explicitly discuss the date of its creation, but mentions the Romans’ interests in the 330s several times as the motivation behind these innovations (e. g. Tan 2020, 67). Gabba (1988) 20, suggests that some aspects of the legal structure of the Latin colonies were already created in the fourth century. Eckstein (2006) 230–235. I do not agree with Eckstein that allied poor were normally given land in colonies or viritane distributions, see Roselaar (2011). See Bertrand in this volume. Liv. 27.38.3–5. See Tan (2020) 73. Gabba (1988) 21, dates it to the late third century. It is often argued that the ius migrationis was cancelled in 177 (e. g. Humbert 1978, 114; Tarpin 2014, 173), but there is nothing in Livy’s text to suggest this.

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rights granted to the colonies – the commercium, conubium and ius migrationis – were introduced only during the Second Punic War, but neither that they were introduced all at the same time, immediately after the Latin War. This leaves the question whether the year 338 was a watershed in the history of Roman colonization, after which important changes took place in the nature of Roman colonization,68 as argued by some scholars, as discussed above.69 Primary sources, such as Velleius and Livy, cited above, present Roman colonization as a rather uniform phenomenon, and do not consider 338 an important breaking point in its history. Velleius for example starts his account with the Gallic incursion of 390 and ends with one of the veteran colonies, Eporedia, founded in 100 BCE, without distinction between colonies founded before and after 338. All these colonies were, according to him, founded by the Senate, leaving no room for other types of ‘non-official’ settlements. Similarly, Livy does not distinguish, in his discussion of the twelve colonies that refused to supply soldiers in 209, between those founded before and after 338.70 Indeed, it may be argued that the period between the Latin War and the First Punic War was an era of gradual change. The scale of the wars that Rome fought, the increasingly large area in which it was active, and the wealth that it gathered eventually caused change in many aspects of life, from culture to money to the structure of the army.71 As for land distribution, I have discussed above that experiments occurred with the distribution of ager publicus in the early to mid-third century, leading to a decline in the number of viritane distributions and new tribus. A tentative piece of evidence with regard to the Latin colonies may be found in a puzzling statement of Cicero: “Sulla himself passed a law respecting the rights of citizenship, avoiding any taking away of the legal obligations and rights of inheritance of these men. For he orders the people of Ariminum to be under the same law that they have been. Who does not know that they were one of the twelve colonies and that they were able to receive inheritances from

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See for this discussion Pelgrom (2019); Crawford (1995) 190. Especially Salmon (1953), where he argues for a strict difference between priscae Latinae coloniae, founded before 338 by the Latin League, and Latin colonies founded after 338. 70 Pelgrom (2019) 24–29. On p. 32–34 he argues that we cannot assume that Latin colonies were founded before the Latin War as independent city states, and that before 338 we should distinguish between Latin colonies and Roman colonies which resembled viritane distributions. However, his argument is based on Livy’s list of loyal and disloyal colonies in 209, and those missing from the list; this perhaps reads too much into Livy’s evidence, which can hardly be considered reliable for the status of fifth- and fourth-century colonies. Moreover, Pelgrom does not discuss what a ‘Latin’ colony was before 338, and how it may have differed from Latin colonies founded after the Latin War. 71 For culture, see Ando (2019) 58, who argues that at this time Roman culture became more Hellenistic; see Armstrong (2020) for gradual developments in the Roman army before and during the Third Punic War. A more permanent mint was introduced in the same period, after several experiments with coinage, see Crawford (1985); Termeer (2015b).

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Roman citizens?”72 It appears that inhabitants of twelve colonies, including Ariminum, had the right to inherit from Romans, and that the others did not. Such inheritances were impossible without conubium, so this passage suggests that there were twelve Latin colonies which enjoyed conubium with Roman citizens. A common theory is that these twelve were the last twelve Latin colonies, founded from 268 onwards, the first of which was Ariminum.73 This would suggest that a ‘package’ of rights was assigned to new colonies founded from this year onwards, but not to other colonies founded between 338 and 268. This explanation might indeed point to a clearer formulation of what a colony was, and what rights its inhabitants had, around 268; i. e. after a period of experimentation with regard to land taken as spoils of war. However, Cicero’s reference is very unclear, and this passage is not decisive evidence for such a change around 268.74 In any case, we may conclude that the year 338 was not the watershed it is often thought to have been. There is no evidence that the Latin colonies founded shortly after the Latin War were already assigned a specific package of rights. A further crystallization of the colonial status seems to have taken place at some point in the first half of the third century, but when exactly cannot be determined. VII Conclusion So where does this leave us with regard to the strategic role of colonies as distributions of land taken as spoils of war? Firstly, it is quite clear that colonies fulfilled a strategic role in the defence of newly conquered territory in Italy, in that they were placed in locations from which they could survey the surrounding territory and act against enemy incursions. Secondly, I think that it was quite clear to the Romans what constituted a colony, at least after 338, and that there were separate colonies with Latin and Roman rights. Settlements that were not organized and/or sanctioned by the state were not considered colonies. The Romans knew what they wanted from those they subjected to their hegemony: taxes and men, and arranged the statuses of the defeated in such a way that they received the maximum contribution on both counts.

72 Cic. Caec. 102: Deinde quod Sulla ipse ita tulit de civitate ut non sustulerit horum nexa atque hereditates. Iubet enim eodem iure esse quo fuerint Ariminenses; quos quis ignorat duodecim coloniarum fuisse et a civibus Romanis hereditates capere potuisse? 73 Bernardi (1973) 76–88; Bispham (2006) 89. Watson (1971) 27, argues that it was only by Sulla that the rights of Ariminum were extended to other cities, but Cicero does not say this. Note that my own interpretation in Roselaar (2013b) is different than the one I suggest here – I suggested there that Cicero was referring to a recent regulation introduced by Sulla, rather than a third-century rule. Sherwin-White (1973) 102–104 is undecided, but does not believe that the twelve colonies enjoyed other rights than the rest of the Latin colonies during the middle to late Republican period. 74 See Pelgrom (2019) 30.

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Nevertheless, we cannot be sure that the system of Latin and Roman colonies was instituted fully fledged in 338 and remained unchanged until the Social War. As in many other respects, the period from 338 to around the First Punic War was a period of experimentation. I suggest that from the early to mid-third century onward (if not earlier, but this cannot be substantiated) the Latin colonies received a fixed package of rights, including commercium, conubium and ius migrationis, while the Roman colonies enjoyed vacatio militiae. This ensured that both types of colonies could fulfil the role which the Romans envisaged for them in the strategy of the defence and expansion of the Roman state. Saskia T. Roselaar Independent scholar [email protected]

Spoils and the Allies Roman Warfare and Coinage Production in Italy before the End of the First Punic War* Marleen K. Termeer I Introduction The first Roman coinage appeared relatively late in the Mediterranean. Rome started to produce coins in the late fourth century BCE, and production was small-scale and intermittent at least until the First Punic War. While the production and use of coins were widespread in Magna Graecia from the late sixth century onwards, Rome did not follow suit for about two centuries.1 When Roman coinage production finally started, it was in the period when Rome had started to conquer the Italian peninsula. This paper discusses how these two roughly contemporary developments may be interlinked, focussing on the first half of the third century BCE. The relation between early Roman expansionism in Italy and the appearance of coinage in the Roman world is almost paradoxical. On the one hand, it is tempting to posit a connection between the adoption of coinage in the Roman world and the growing scale at which Rome fought its wars. Roman expansion affected not only the power relations on the peninsula, but also the dynamics of warfare, with armies moving to places farther away and staying in the field for longer. Some of these wars *

1

Many thanks to Marian Helm and Saskia Roselaar for inviting me to participate in the workshops and conference of the “Spoils in the Roman Republic” project, and to contribute to these proceedings. I should also like to thank the anonymous reviewer for their helpful suggestions. This paper includes some results of my PhD research (University of Groningen) and additional research carried out as part of my project “Coining Roman Rule”, which was funded by the Netherlands Organization for Scientific Research (NWO) VENI scheme (project number 016.Veni.195.134, Radboud University). The following abbreviations are used: HNItaly = Historia Numorum. Italy (Rutter 2001). I refer to specific issues by their catalogue number, abbreviated as HNItaly [number]; for page numbers I refer to Rutter (2001) [page]. RRC = Roman Republican Coinage (Crawford 1974). I refer to specific issues by their catalogue number, abbreviated as RRC [number]. On the lack of coin finds in Rome before the third century BC: Crawford (1985) 17; Burnett & Molinari (2015) 58–60 point out the scarcity of silver coins in Rome into the third century (see below).

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brought in wealth on an unprecedented scale. Under these circumstances, coinage may have been an ideal way to redistribute some of that wealth among the soldiers. On the other hand, the characteristics of the earliest phase of Roman coinage speak against a strong role of coinage in warfare. First of all, the scale of coinage production was generally small, so the potential role of coinage in a military context should not be overestimated.2 Moreover, in the broader Italian context, there were important regional differences in coin production and use. We should realize that in this period the production by Rome itself (i. e. those coins whose legends refer to Rome) was not the only coinage in the Roman world. Other productions by colonies and allies of Rome show a range of forms and characteristics that do not always follow Roman practices.3 The introduction of coinage in Central Italy, then, was not simply instigated by Rome, but was a result of the production of coins by a range of communities. Coinage was still a new phenomenon, and in the first half of the third century BCE it was not yet fully developed, nor completely interwoven with daily practice. Any explanation of why coinage was adopted should take into account the small scale and variability of production. This paper tries to make sense of this paradox, and in keeping with the aims of the volume, will pay special attention to the role of spoils of war. A first step in the analysis is to investigate whether we can recognize a relation between coinage production and warfare in roughly the first half of the third century (section II). Such a relation has been commonly suggested for both the Greek and the Roman world,4 and is at the basis of some of the main contributions to the study of early Roman Republican coinage.5 However, Seth Bernard has recently suggested that “a strict connection between coins and military operations in the early [Roman] period cannot be assumed uncritically”, mainly because of the ill fit between the low quantities and intermittent character of Roman coin production and almost constant warfare in the third century.6 Instead, he draws attention to the broader societal and cultural context in which coinage first appeared.7 While this broader context is indeed essential (see section IV), I will argue that increased warfare does appear to have played a role in triggering coinage production.8 However, this did not result in the full monetization – in the sense of a wide practice of coin use – of the Roman army.

2 3 4 5 6 7 8

This changed already before the introduction of the denarius, with the production of the quadrigatus. Debernardi & Legrand (2014) have recently suggested that this prolific production took place between 220 and 210, and relate it to the Second Punic War. See Burnett (2012); Termeer (2015a; 2019). See recently De Callataÿ (2019) 45–51, esp. 46: “to link coinages with state expenditure is to link coinages with military expenditure”. Crawford (1985) Ch. 3; Rutter (2001) 7–9. Bernard (2018b) 8–9, quote on p. 9. Bernard (2018b). See also Armstrong & Termeer (2023).

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Next, I will move on to investigate where the coins were produced and used, as this provides some much-needed context to the broader questions of why coinage was introduced and what its relation to warfare and spoils may have been (section III). We know very little about the practical circumstances of coinage production in this period, but the coins themselves and their distribution indicate that Roman coinage was not necessarily produced in Rome itself, just as the coinages of her allies were not necessarily produced in their home communities. In addition, as coinage was still a new phenomenon, we cannot assume that it was automatically adopted and accepted everywhere, so we need to investigate where coins were actually used. As the analysis will focus on the earliest phase of Roman coinage, it will take into account the heavy series of cast bronze coins, the struck silver and bronze coins bearing the legend romano, and allied coins that were produced in the same period, that is, before the end of the First Punic War. Finally, the specific role of spoils will be discussed in section IV. Our sources are very scanty here, and I will not argue for a simple, straightforward connection between the acquisition of spoils and the production of coinage. However, the variability in the way that spoils were handled by individual generals does open up the possibility that in some cases there was a relation to coin production. Thus, I suggest that the influx of spoils contributed to an early “experimental” phase of coin production, in which ad hoc decisions to produce coinage were made by individual members of the Roman elite and their allies. II Why Was Coinage Produced? Warfare and the Allies In general, there is a clear relation in Roman history between money use and military organization and success.9 Reforms such as the introduction of the stipendium and the tributum, both of which pre-date the introduction of coinage in Rome, show that already at an early stage, money was functional, and even essential, to military activity.10 In his account of the introduction of the tributum, Livy sketches the senators as bringing to the treasury carts full of bronze.11 It indeed seems likely that in this period

9 10

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See recently Rosenstein (2016b) 80–81. See discussion by Crawford (1985) 22–23 and recently Tan (2020) 53–54. Tan’s analysis of fiscal considerations in the settlement of fourth-century Italy shows the potential importance of money before the introduction of coinage. Note that Humm (2005) 375–377, suggests that the introduction of the stipendium and tributum in monetary form may have taken place only towards the end of the fourth century. Even in this later period it is unlikely that the money was in the form of coinage. Liv. 4.60.6. Note that the treasury did not necessarily play a central role in the process of collecting tributum and paying stipendium; see Tan (2020) 54.

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bronze was weighed out to pay the stipendium, as is also implied by the etymology (stips pondere).12 When coinage appeared in the Roman world, it did not automatically replace such weighed bronze. We should realize that throughout the Republican period, coinage was just one form of money that existed alongside others, and that bullion metal remained important as well.13 Indeed, it is highly likely that the use of weighed bronze as a means to pay the stipendium initially continued after the introduction of coinage: Andrew Burnett noted some 30 years ago that it is unlikely that the stipendium was paid in coin before the introduction of the denarius system, as not only is the size of the issues too small and the production too discontinuous, but also there is no correlation between the geographical distribution of coin finds and Roman military activity.14 The few written sources that imply that soldiers were paid in coin surely refer to the period after the introduction of the denarius.15 However, this does not mean that coinage production in the early third century had no relation to warfare. Especially for silver, spoils are an important potential source of the metal that was used to produce coinage, as there were few other resources avail­ able in Italy in this period.16 Another possible resource was war indemnities, and it has indeed been pointed out that the volume of Roman coin production grew only after the First Punic War, when Rome received war indemnities from Carthage.17 The first time Livy mentions indemnities is in the context of the campaign by Lucius Postumius in Etruria in 294 BCE, when an indemnity of 500,000 asses was imposed on the cities of Volsinii, Perusia and Arretium.18 Such payments were most likely made in bullion. In addition, several incidental financial transactions related to military activity may have involved coinage, such as the exchange of spoils for more easily portable wealth (which may have included foreign coin), the repayment of the tributum or the division of spoils.19 The argument has been made, for example, that Rome’s large cast bronze bars with naval themes (RRC 10, 11 and 12) served to refund the tributum after Rome’s first naval victory in the First Punic War at the battle of Mylae (see fig. 4).20 Similarly, it has been tentatively suggested that the private loans that funded the Roman fleet

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Boren (1983) esp. 428–431. See Hollander (2007). Burnett (1987) 14; Burnett (1989). Plb. 6.39.12; Varr. apud Non. 853 L. See Rowan (2013). Howgego (1992) 4; see Albarède et al. (2016). Liv. 10.37.5; see Oakley (2005b) 373. See Rowan (2013) 370–372 on the selling of spoils and the likely connection between coinage and the division of spoils. Kondratieff (2004). While the suggestion is interesting, it is by no means certain. See Tan (2017) 108, n. 58, and Taylor in this volume for cautionary remarks on the frequency with which the tributum was repaid.

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towards the end of the war were repaid in coin just after the war.21 Of course, these suggestions are speculative, and coinage was not necessary for any of these kinds of transactions. Spoils could have been exchanged for bullion or other valuables, and James Tan has recently argued that tributum could be paid in many different mediums of value, and when repayment happened, it may have followed the same logic.22 It is important, however, to realize that the high frequency with which portable metallic wealth was moved in a military context makes it an environment conducive to experimentation with coinage. The financial operations surrounding military activity in the third century were variable and partly depended on the success of the campaign and the decisions of individual generals on the way any acquired spoils were handled (see section IV below). In this context, coinage may have been produced only in exceptional cases. The military context acquires further significance when we take into account the wider picture of coin production in third-century BCE Italy. Rome was far from the only coin producer in Italy in this period, and many other coin producers after ca. 275 were allies or colonies of Rome (fig. 1). In most cases, their production was smaller than Rome’s and the struck bronze coinages usually consisted of only a few types and a single denomination, making them poorly suited for local market use.23 As is well known, the colonies and allies con­tributed troops to the Roman army, and this common denominator is an attractive explanation for the shared practice of coin production by various communities over the Italian peninsula.24 It has been convincingly shown that allies themselves (including the Latin colonies) financially supported the troops they contributed to the Roman army,25 and in this context, they too may have produced coinage for specific financial transactions.26 For at least some of the struck bronze issues produced by the allies and colonies, the “military interpretation” can be further strengthened by the observation that various communities used the same types. This is not a very widespread phenomenon, but there are two types that stand out. Bronze coins with the head of Minerva on the obverse and a cock on the reverse (fig. 2) were produced by five communities in southern Latium and Campania.27 In this case, geographical vicinity may explain the use of a

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Burnett (1987) 14. Tan (2020) 54. Based on the assumption that multiple small denominations facilitate retail trade; cf.  Burnett (1987) 95. This is not to say that the coins were never used at markets, but it is unlikely that they were produced to serve this function. For this suggestion, see for example Crawford (1985) Ch. 3; Cantilena (1996) 62; Burnett (2012) 308. Nicolet (1978). See Pfeilschifter (2007) 31 for the observation that there was no standardized pay for allied soldiers. Cales, Teanum, Suessa Aurunca, Caiatia and Aquinum; see Termeer (2015a).

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Figure 1. Map of coin producing communities in Italy, ca. 275–220 BCE, based on HNItaly. Map is based on the suggested end date of production given in HNItaly. Issues with an end date in 275 or 270 have only been included if their date range is small (10 years maximum): e. g. the silver production of Alba Fucens, Signia and Norba is dated 280–275 BCE. The location of some coin-producing communities shown on this map is conjectural: Vestini (inserted at a possible location of the mint at Pinna; see Campanelli 2001, 95); Inland Etruria (inserted at random); Central Etruria (inserted at random); Frentani (inserted slightly north of Larinum). The following coin producers are not included in this map due to our ignorance of their location: Akudunniad, Butuntum, Campano-Tarentine, Graxa, Irnthií. Map by author.

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Figure 2. Bronze Minerva/cock coin of Cales (HNItaly 435). Museo Archeologico ­ azionale di Napoli, collection Fiorelli 801. Printed with permission of the Ministero dei N Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli.

common type, and these coins have indeed been interpreted as a league coinage or even as being functional to the nundinae in this region.28 However, in our second example, we see that the sharing of types could take place over a wider geographical area: bronze coins with the head of Apollo on the obverse and a man-faced bull crowned by a flying Victory on the reverse were again produced by communities in Campania and southern Latium, but the type was also adopted by Aesernia in Samnium and by Larinum on the Adriatic coast (fig. 3).29

Figure 3. Bronze Apollo/man-faced bull coin of Suessa Aurunca (HNItaly 450). Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli, collection Fiorelli 1305. Printed with ­permission of the Ministero dei Beni e delle Attività Culturali e del Turismo – Museo Archeologico Nazionale di Napoli.

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League coinage: e. g. Thomsen (1961) 111; Cantilena (1988) 164. Nundinae: Mandatori (2018). The group of producers that used this type includes Neapolis, Cales, Teanum, Suessa Aurunca, Aesernia, Compulteria, Nola and Larinum; see Termeer (2015a).

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As I have argued elsewhere, this pattern can best be explained as a result of interaction between these communities in the context of the Roman army.30 An additional argument to sustain the military interpretation is the existence of silver Celtic imitations of the Minerva/cock coins, including the legend caleno.31 Celtic familiarity with these coins would be hard to explain if they mainly functioned in the context of regional nundinae; in contrast, we can easily imagine Celtic troops active in Italy in this period. Finally, for what it is worth, the coin types also suggest a connection to warfare. For the pre-denarius Roman coinage, a preference for war and victory themes can be recognized both on the struck silver and bronze coins, and on the large cast bronze bars and coins.32 Looking beyond Rome, the shared types on bronze coins discussed above also refer to these themes: the appearance of Victory on the reverse of the ­Apollo/manfaced bull coins speaks for itself, and the cock may be related to courage and fighting.33 The man-faced bull type has been related to mercenary activity,34 and even though mercenaries were less important in the context of the Roman army in this period,35 I would suggest that the broader military connotation may still have been relevant. We also encounter references to war and victory in some of the other issues by colonies and allies; for example, the silver coins of Cales and Teanum show Victory in a biga or triga, respectively, on the reverse of their silver.36 In sum, it is highly likely that the production of at least some of the Roman and Italic coinages in the third century were initially related to warfare. This of course does not exclude the possibility that the coins were later also used in other contexts, nor does the military explanation necessarily apply to all coinages produced. Indeed, the areas in which the coins circulated seem to indicate that different coinages functioned in different contexts, and this may also be related to the location of production. The production and use of Roman and allied coinages in this period therefore need further investigation.

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Termeer (2015a). These were brought to my attention by Clive Stannard and Luigi Graziano, both of whom I should like to thank very much for sharing this with me. Until recently, the coins were not well known, although one is described by Garrucci (1885) 80 and pl. LXXXIII. In a recent publication, Torbágyi & Vida (2020) present a catalogue and, based on coin finds, suggest that they were produced in the Middle Danube region. Burnett (1986). As noted by Rutter (2001) 9, n. 37. Molinari & Sisci (2016) 25–30. See Burnett (1987) 14; Rosenstein (2004) 49 with n. 133 and 63–65, on the reasons for this; see also the table of known attestations of Italic mercenaries compiled by Bourdin (2012) 561–562. It is tempting to relate the Celtic imitations of the Minerva/cock coins mentioned above to potential mercenaries in the Roman army. See also Armstrong & Termeer (2023). HNItaly 434 (Cales) and HNItaly 451–452 (Teanum). See Pantuliano (2005) 362 for the suggestion of a relation with the Pyrrhic War for the silver of Cales.

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III The Production and Use of Coinage37 In large parts of Central Italy in the third century BCE, coinage was a new phenomenon: communities in this area produced coinage for the first time, and its use as a form of money was not necessarily widely accepted. The occasions on which coinage was considered useful or appropriate may well have been affected by these circumstances. It is therefore relevant to briefly discuss the available information about the location of production of the coinages in question and their areas of circulation. First of all, there is no clear evidence that Roman or allied coinages were used by soldiers in the Roman army during service. As briefly referred to above, the geographical distribution of Roman coinage speaks against this,38 and as we will see below, this is also true for the coinages of her allies. When the Roman army was active in monetized parts of the Greek south, it is likely that soldiers used local coinage,39 and it has even been suggested that during the First Punic War, indemnities paid to the Romans in local (i. e. Syracusan) coinage may have been used to pay the Roman army.40 The production by Rome and her allies was therefore not commonly used in an army context. A closer look at the distribution of Roman and allied coinage draws attention to the differences between the various kinds of coinage that were produced. Struck silver, struck bronze and cast bronze issues each have different distributions. This is a healthy reminder that in this period, “Roman coinage” (including that of Rome’s allies) cannot be understood as one integrated system.41 Rather, it seems that different kinds of coinage served different goals and/or were aimed at different audiences. To start with Rome’s own production, specimens of the first four issues of Roman silver bearing the legend romano have been found mainly in Campania and farther to the southeast, in the modern regions of Basilicata and Puglia.42 This suggests that the coins were mainly used in areas with a longer tradition of using silver coinage that had only recently been conquered by Rome. In this context, it is also relevant that Rome’s

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This section gives a brief overview of our current knowledge. More in-depth research especially on the find spots and contexts of colonial and other allied coinages is definitely needed. Burnett (1987) 14. RRC 23 may be a possible exception; see Burnett & McCabe (2016). For example, if Roman armies during the First Punic War were quartered in Sicilian cities during the winter, they would have needed coins to be able to participate in the local economy; see Serrati (2016) 107. Crawford (1985) 41–42, 107–109. See Burnett (1989) 33–41 on Rome’s own production. Vitale (1998) tav. VII–X. The pattern is clearest for the first Roman silver issue (RRC 13.1), but also seems to apply to the distribution of the third and fourth issues (RRC 20.1 and RRC 22.1). For the second issue (RRC 15.1), only three provenances are known. See Vitale (2019) for a recent treatment of the hoard evidence, mainly focused on the question of chronology.

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first silver issue was most likely produced not in Rome but at a mint farther south, and the same may be true for the other silver romano issues.43 The very first struck bronze issue (RRC 1) has a legend in Greek and both RRC 1 and RRC 2 use Neapolitan types. Based on this, it is quite likely that these coins were produced in Naples.44 Few specimens are preserved and none of them has a known provenance. The next two struck bronze issues (RRC 16 and RRC 17) were much larger. Especially RRC 17 displays vast variations in the shape of the flans, style and execution of the legends, and based on this variation it is likely that it was produced not only in Rome, but also at other mints in Italy.45 There is clear overlap in the distribution pattern of RRC 16 and RRC 17: both are concentrated in the western central part of the peninsula – a wide region around Rome that includes the southern part of Etruria, Latium, parts of Samnium and the northern part of Campania.46 It has been suggested that RRC 16 tends to stay closer to Rome than RRC 17.47 The last struck bronze bearing the legend romano (RRC 23) was probably produced on Sicily, and this is also the location where most of the specimens with a known provenance were found.48 The heavy series of Roman cast bronze coins (RRC 14, 18 and 19) have a distribution pattern that is similar but not identical to that of the struck bronze. The distribution of the smaller denominations is concentrated in coastal Latium, southern Etruria and northern Campania, with specimens also turning up in the Marsic area. Larger denominations are also found at a larger distance from Rome, especially towards Umbria and Samnium.49 Recent work on coin finds in Etruria shows that, at least in this region, Roman cast bronze has a wider distribution pattern than Roman struck bronze coins; perhaps these heavy coins were more widely accepted.50 How do the allied coinages fit into this picture? Although we know little about the exact circumstances of production, I have suggested that joint coinage production could be organized in a military context. There must have been some form of collaboration in the minting of the Minerva/cock and Apollo/man-faced bull coins discussed in section II, and they may indeed have been made at the same mint.51 The same may

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Burnett (1998) 32–33. See Burnett (2016) 11, for a summary of the current orthodoxy on the location of the mint of Roman pre-denarius coinage. 44 Taliercio Mensitieri (1998) 50–52, 58–59, 67; this suggestion is widely accepted for RRC 1, while various other mints have been suggested for RRC 2. 45 As also suggested by Burnett (1998) 32–33, with reference to Taliercio Mensitieri (1998). 46 Vitale (1998) tav. XII–XIII. 47 Taliercio Mensitieri (1998) 78–80, 91. 48 Burnett & McCabe (2016). Note that the new date of ca. 240 proposed by Burnett and McCabe pushes this issue towards the edge of the chronological scope discussed here. 49 As noted by Taliercio Mensitieri (1998) 80, n. 188. See Thomsen (1957) 109–23; Jaia & Molinari (2011) appendix 2. 50 Naiman & Termeer (2021). 51 See Burnett & Molinari (2015) 94. For a more elaborate discussion, see Termeer (2015a) 68–69. The suggestion is strengthened by the observation by Burnett (2016) 16–17 that the coins produced

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be true for the silver coinages produced in Cales, Suessa and Teanum, which also show considerable overlap.52 In these cases, the coins were not necessarily produced in the town that is mentioned in the legend of the coin. It is as yet unclear how widespread this phenomenon of shared mints was in this period, but it may also apply to other struck bronze coinages.53 In contrast, the cast bronze coins are most likely locally made. Distribution data for the allied coinages are not readily available, but a preliminary analysis of the distribution of some of the colonial coinages shows a pattern that is roughly similar to the distribution of the Roman coins.54 Silver coinage production by the colonies is rare, and the few established provenances (almost all hoards) we have for these coins are mostly in Campania and Puglia.55 The cast bronze issues are found mainly in areas close to the producing community.56 Struck bronze coins are mainly found in an area in central and western Italy, mostly in Campania and the internal ­Apennines, but also in Etruria and to a lesser extent Latium.57 This pattern is similar to that of the Roman struck bronze material, although the allied bronzes are less common in Latium. Interestingly, there is a high degree of overlap in the distribution of the struck bronze coins from different producers, but the location of the producing community does seem relevant. For example, coins from Cales are found in both Campania and Samnium, whereas the coins from Aesernia clearly concentrate in Samnium. While we should be careful not to overinterpret these patterns – the data are highly influenced by chance finds and are biased towards areas that have been better researched and published58 – they should be taken into account in our interpretation of the function and impact of coinage in this period. The concentration of silver coins in the south suggests that at least in the first half of the third century, silver coinage was not an important currency in Central Italy. Indeed, it has recently been noted that, compared to southern Italy, silver was used in only limited amounts in the third century in Apennine Italy and along the Adriatic,59 and even less in Rome itself and its

52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59

by Cales, Suessa and Teanum all have a die axis that is predominantly fixed at 6 o’clock. These three communities produce both the Minerva/cock type and the Apollo/man-faced bull type. Unfortunately, not enough information on the die axis of the other producers of this type is available to check if they use the same die axis. Burnett (2016) 19, 25. Burnett (2016) 19. These observations are based on a collection of published distribution data of colonial coinages that I assembled in the context of my PhD research, and serve here as an example of the distribution of allied coinages. Termeer (2015b) 247–248. Termeer (2015b) 230–231. Termeer (2015b) 254–255; (2016) 172–173. An additional problem is that the data show patterns of deposition rather than of use. More detailed analyses of these distribution patterns should take into account the date of deposition. Burnett & Molinari (2015) esp. sections 4 and 6.

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immediate hinterland.60 Thus, we should seriously consider the possibility that silver coins did not circulate as currency in Rome and Central Italy in this period. For the bronze coins, an interesting difference can be noted between cast bronze and struck bronze. Most cast bronze coins stayed close to their home communities, and might thus be regarded as local currencies. For the specific case of Rome, the distribution pattern of the cast bronze coins, with their strong presence along the coastal strip north and south of Rome, has led to the suggestion that they were produced as public money in order to finance a defensive belt on the coast, with the fortification of several sanctuaries and coloniae in this area.61 The idea is suggestive though difficult to prove, and this scenario would imply that while the cast bronze was Rome’s main local currency, it also had a military function. The struck bronze shows more overlap between the productions by various communities. This can perhaps be explained by the fact that at least some of the struck bronze coins were not locally produced.62 As we have seen, the struck bronze coins – those produced by both Rome and her allies – mainly circulated in a rather large area around Rome, including northern Campania, Samnium and southern Etruria. This distribution pattern has two important potential implications. First, it may imply that the struck bronze coins minted by various communities were interchangeable and thus travelled easily. Second, and in contrast to the silver, these coins came to be widely used in those parts of Italy where coinage was still relatively new. Thus, the introduction of coinage in the Roman world largely took place outside the city of Rome. This is true in terms of production, as at least some of Rome’s own issues were produced further to the south and a range of allies produced coinage either in their hometowns or jointly in unknown locations on the Italian peninsula. It is also true in terms of coin use. Both Roman and allied silver coinages circulated mainly in the south of the peninsula. In Rome and Central Italy, coinage was introduced as a new phenomenon mainly in the shape of cast and struck bronze coins. If these coins indeed served as a way to divide spoils or handle other military financial matters, they were most likely distributed either at the end of a campaign, or upon the soldiers’ return to their hometowns.63

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Burnett & Molinari (2015) 92–96. The total record of silver coins found in Rome before the Capitoline hoard, which dates to c. 214 BCE, are two (or perhaps four) silver coins from Neapolis, and a recently discovered silver triobol. Jaia & Molinari (2011). Indeed, it would be interesting to investigate whether there is a difference in the distribution of the struck bronze coins with shared types, for which I have suggested a military function, and the local types that many allies also produced, which may have been destined for local use. Cf. Vitale (2009) 67, who notes differences in the distribution of the various struck issues of Suessa Aurunca. As was already suggested by Boren (1983) 433.

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IV Coinage and Spoils Against this background, how should we evaluate the potential link between the acquisition of spoils and the production of coinage? Let us start with the written sources, which are scanty and focus on Rome. The only fairly straightforward suggestion of a link in our written sources is Zonaras’ claim – based on Cassius Dio – that silver coins were first used in Rome after “a great deal of money” arrived at Rome when Quintus Gallus and Gaius Fabius were campaigning in Samnium in 269 BCE.64 This claim is clearly part of a broader tradition in Roman historiography that sees the year 269 as pivotal in the development of coinage in the Roman world.65 In view of the discussion above, it is interesting that Zonaras singles out the first use of silver coins rather than their production.66 Of course, this is a very late source and it is not at all clear what exactly happened in 269.67 Zonaras’ claim, therefore, at best shows the plausibility of a link: when spoils included coins or bullion metal, this could have been used to create a coinage issue. The passage in Zonaras may be related to an episode recounted by Dionysius of Halicarnassus, who describes that the consuls of 269, after conquering a city held by a group of rebellious Samnites, sold captured spoils and land and divided it among the citizens.68 Clearly, the division of wealth obtained in a military context was important here, although in the version of Dionysius, coinage was not necessarily involved.69 More generally, metal spoils receive much attention in the limited written sources that we have for this period, mainly Livy’s descriptions of Roman triumphs in the early third century. We learn that in 295, after the battle of Sentinum, part of the captured bronze was divided equally among the soldiers, with every soldier receiving 82 asses of bronze.70 The 82 asses are not necessarily coins, but may also refer to weighed bronze – Livy uses the same term (aes or aes grave) in earlier books to describe sums of money.71 In 293, the consuls Lucius Papirius Cursor and Spurius Carvilius brought back considerable spoils after their victories over the Samnites.72 Papirius Cursor brought back the richer spoils: 2,533,000 asses of bronze and 1,830 pounds of silver, all of which he deposited in the aerarium. In contrast, Carvilius divided part of his spoils 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72

Zonaras 8.7: Πολλὰ δὲ χρήματα τότε τῇ Ῥώμῃ ἐγένετο, ὥστε καὶ ἀργυραῖς δραχμαῖς χρήσασθαι. Most notably Plin. HN 33.44; see Coarelli (2013) 11–16, for a full discussion of the sources. Cf. Burnett (1977) 116. It has even been questioned whether the year is relevant at all; cf.  the often-quoted remark by Crawford (1985) 31, n. 9 about the passage in Pliny: “we should actually be much better off if this wretched text did not exist”. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 20.17. Contra Rowan (2013) 372, who claims that Dionysius here “hints at the division of booty through coinage”. Liv. 10.30.10. E. g. Liv. 4.41.10, 5.12.1. Liv. 10.46.5–7 and 10.46.14–15.

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among his troops: he deposited 380,000 asses of bronze in the treasury, but in addition, each of his soldiers received 102 asses, and the centurions and cavalry received twice as much. The different treatment of their spoils clearly shows that these generals could decide on this themselves. As Seth Bernard recently argued, the specific differences between Papirius Cursor and Carvilius may reflect different attitudes to metallic wealth among members of the elite in Rome.73 He connects the different treatment of the spoils to the social position of the two consuls: Papirius Cursor belonged to an old and prominent gens, and thus could rely on inherited prestige, while Carvilius, as novus homo, needed other methods to strengthen his position. Bernard convincingly argues that such broader social structures, in this case leading to different attitudes towards metallic wealth, are the context in which we should understand early Roman coinage. While it is therefore clear that the arrival of metallic spoils made an impact on the Roman social and political fabric in this period, the written sources offer no decisive evidence that this metal was used for the production of coinage. However, in modern scholarship, the production of specific issues of coinage has been linked to the acquisition of spoils. For example, as briefly discussed above, Eric Kondratieff suggests that the bronze bars bearing naval themes RRC 10–12 were used to repay the tributum to Rome’s citizens after rich spoils had been obtained at the battle of Mylae (fig. 4). This reconstruction is partly based on the inscription on Duilius’ rostral column. The inscription not only boasts of the quantities of gold, silver and bronze that Duilius acquired, but also declares that he “[presented] the people with naval spoils”.74 While this is an important indication that spoils could be divided among the people, the suggestion that the bronze bars were used as a medium in this transaction is hypothetical. Another example concerns the spoils of Papirius Cursor and Carvilius. It has recently been suggested that the bronze that was brought back as part of these spoils was used for the production of Roman cast bronze coins, while the 1,830 pounds of silver deposited in the treasury as part of the spoils of Papirius Cursor were used for the production of the second issue of Roman silver (RRC 15).75 As in the previous case, there

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Bernard (2017) 512; (2018b) 12–13. Inscr. It. 13.3.69, line 17: [trivmp]oqve navaled praedad poplom [donavet]. Coarelli (2013) 54: “Il bronzo della preda venne certamente utilizzato, almeno in gran parte, per la coniazione di assi (probabilmente quelli della serie Apollo/Apollo) [reference to Thomsen (1961) 15 ff.], mentre l’argento sarà servito per didrammi della seconda serie romano con Apollo/cavallo”. Note that Thomsen discusses the chronology of Rome’s early cast bronze coinage in the pages referred to; he does not suggest a connection with the spoils of Papirius Cursor and Car­vilius. Coarelli discusses how 1,830 pounds of silver would have been enough to produce ca. 85,000 didrachms on the Campanian weight standard of 7.2 g for a didrachm. As the size of the full issue of RRC 15.1 can be estimated at between 100,000 and 300,000 (cf. Burnett 1989, 41–8), the 1,830 pounds of silver would have been able to cover 28–85 % of the issue as a whole.

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Figure 4. Bronze bar anchor/tripod (RRC 10.1). Münzkabinett der Staatlichen Museen zu Berlin, 18202537. Photographed by Lutz-Jürgen Lübke.

is no way of proving this, and for this specific case, the reconstruction requires a very early date for RRC 15, which is not generally accepted.76 For the silver, there is an additional problem to be solved. While the written ­sources regularly give notice of silver being brought to Rome in triumphs and deposited in the treasury,77 we have seen in section III that silver coinage is pretty well absent from Rome for much of the third century. Therefore, if the silver was used to produce

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Coarelli’s dating of RRC 15.1 to the year 293/2 is not generally accepted, and is based on rather circumstantial historical considerations. More commonly accepted is a date around 270, eliminating the possibility of a direct link with Cursor’s Samnite spoils (RRC gives a date of 275–0; I suppose the date in HNItaly (HNItaly 275) of ca. 260 is a typo and should read ca. 270; cf. the overview on p. 45 and the date of RRC 20 (HNItaly 287) in ca. 265). Overviews can be found in Szaivert & Wolters (2005) 271–5; Coudry (2009b) 71–7 (tableau II).

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c­ oinage, the coins did not stay in Rome. This problem has been noted by Andrew Burnett and Maria Cristina Molinari, who give as a tentative solution that the silver only “passed through” Rome: when silver was brought to Rome as spoils, it could be used for minting, but the silver coins would then have been somehow transported to the south of the peninsula.78 As we have seen, however, Rome’s earliest silver coinage may well have been produced farther to the south, so for this early phase we do not have to imagine that the silver passed through Rome; rather, it seems feasible that the silver romano coinage was produced and distributed in the south. Thus, a structural link between spoils and coinage production in the first half of the third century BCE cannot be proven, and any attempt to link specific triumphs and the accompanying spoils to specific coin issues must remain purely hypothetical. However, the idea that the availability of metal as a result of military victories would have stimulated the production of coinage is still attractive, and in view of the general probability that at least some coinages were related to warfare (see section II), we should not discredit the role of spoils altogether. In this context, it may be worth drawing attention to an interesting parallel between the intermittent nature of coinage production by Rome and her allies in the third century, and the occasional acquisitions of spoils and the different ways in which Roman generals dealt with them. It is important to realize that few Roman victories in this period were profitable.79 The sudden availability of large quantities of precious metal as a result of a military victory was not very common in the third century. If spoils were captured, the commanding general could deal with them in a number of ways: he could distribute or sell some of them on the battlefield, and back in Rome make them available to the state (i. e. deposit them in the treasury), distribute them directly to the soldiers during the triumph, use them to repay the tributum to the people of Rome or keep them to finance a subsequent campaign.80 We have already seen that in 293, the consuls Papirius Cursor and Carvilius dealt with their spoils in different ways. Indeed, throughout the Republican period, the division of spoils was never uniformly regulated. Marianne Coudry has convincingly argued that we may see this as a failure of the Roman state to fully appropriate the handling of spoils of war.81 If we place against this background the intermittent and varied coin production by Rome and her allies in the early third century, an interesting possibility presents itself. What if the production of coinage was part of the series of choices that a general could make in deciding what to do with the spoils? Being an easy way to divide wealth, 78 79 80 81

Burnett & Molinari (2015) 94–95; they stress that such a reconstruction would be needed particularly for the roma phase of the silver coinage, as it is highly unlikely that this was produced outside Rome; the issues of the earlier romano phase may have been produced outside Rome. Rosenstein (2016a). Coudry (2009b); Bleckmann (2016) 84. Coudry (2009b) esp. 50. See also Tan (2017), specifically Ch. 1 for the observation that the Roman conquests mainly resulted in individual wealth.

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c­ oinage could be an interesting instrument for a victorious general, especially if he wanted to distribute spoils to soldiers or to the people, and the same could be true for the leaders of allied contingents. Although this would make coin production less centralized than we generally imagine, this scenario seems to fit both the historical context and the numismatic evidence. As we have seen, at least some of the early issues of Roman coinage were produced outside Rome, and both the variety in Rome’s own production and the series of coinages produced by her allies and colonies show that the character of early Roman coinage was not very centralized at all. This can be understood in a historical context where coinage was not yet generally accepted amongst the Roman elite. As briefly discussed above, Seth Bernard has recently highlighted the importance of shifting and competing value systems to understand political competition in Rome in the third century BCE.82 He notes how the Roman “state” in this period is made up of “a heterogeneous group of elites who not only held different cultural orientations (…) but who also espoused different views of metallic wealth and exchange”.83 In this context, in all likeli­ hood, the phenomenon of coinage was not universally accepted and adopted by the Roman elite. Against this background, it makes sense that coinage was not produced centrally in Rome. The authority of a general over his spoils would have given him the opportunity, outside Rome, to produce coinage in a “safe environment”. This suggestion of course raises questions about a general’s authority: did he, for example, need permission from Rome to produce coinage? It also opens up new ways to understand the coinages of Rome’s allies: should we consider their coinages as the transformation into coin of the spoils they kept for themselves? And should we imag­ ine that different attitudes towards coinage also existed among Rome’s allies, perhaps explaining why some colonies and allies produced coinage, while others did not? Both the role of individual generals and the interaction between Roman and allied elites deserve more attention in future research.84 V Conclusions The image that arises is that coinage production in Central Italy in the first half of the third century BCE was the result of rather ad hoc decisions. As we have seen, not all colonies and allies produced coinage, Rome only produced intermittently and on specific occasions, and Roman coinage may have been produced at various locations on the Italian peninsula. Importantly, this does not imply that Rome or the Roman econ82 83 84

Bernard (2018b; 2019). Bernard (2018b) 10. Cf. Terrenato (2019), who draws attention to exactly these dynamics as a novel way to understand Roman expansion in Italy in this period. The potential link is noted by Terrenato (2020) 71.

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omy was in any way primitive in this period, or that the use of money was underdeveloped. Rather, we should realize that coinage formed a relatively small part of the money that was in use. As I argued in the first part of this paper, at least some of these coinages must have been related to military activity, but at the same time, coinage played only a small part in the financial transactions surrounding warfare. The total production would not have been enough to cover the payment of stipendium on a regular basis, or even the distribution of spoils on more than a few occasions. Coinage was not yet a fully developed, integral part of the Roman war machine. Instead, I suggest that in a military context, outside the city of Rome, we witness experiments with the production of coinage, both by Roman generals and by Roman colonies and allies. Finally, if the coins were indeed produced in a military context, they would, in a broader sense, have communicated messages about the profits of war. It is interesting in this regard that the coins seem to have been aimed at different audiences (see section III). The distribution of silver coins in the south of the peninsula points to a non-­ Roman audience to whom the Roman and allied silver must have signalled the rise of a new power to reckon with. In contrast, in western Central Italy, the bronze coins would have shown the profits of war to a mixed audience of Romans and their allies. Marleen K. Termeer Radboud University Nijmegen [email protected]

Tributum and Spoils in the Middle Republic Michael Taylor

I Introduction This chapter discusses the citizen war-tax, tributum, from its imposition around 406 BCe to its suspension in 167 BCE. In the context of this volume, the chapter examines the paradox that while successful Roman warfare generated extraordinary spoils, for roughly 250 years Roman citizens literally paid for the privilege of being at war. The first part considers the limitations of archaic Roman warfare uncapitalized by state taxation. The second section discusses various models for how tributum was collected, and advocates a vision of tributum as a mass tax directly collected by tribuni aerarii acting as agents of the Roman state. The third part considers how much money tributum may have generated for the Roman state in the second century BCE, suggesting that tributum was a cornerstone of Roman war finance that rivalled spoils as a source of income to the Roman treasury. The fourth part considers tributum and spoils in the context of aristocratic and popular politics in Rome, while the last part focuses on the question of why spoils were so rarely used to refund tributum. II Archaic Roman Warfare Warfare in Early Rome seems to have fallen into two basic modalities, neither of which would have required substantial logistical foundation. The first was defensive, in which an enemy raid or incursion compelled inhabitants to snatch up their own weapons, to try to intercept the incursion through a combination of garrisoning strong points as well as mustering a mass of hoplites to confront the invaders. These were relatively simple operations given the small size of the archaic city-state, where most frontiers were within a day’s march of the urban centre. The logistics of defence in Archaic Rome were presumably the logistics of the lunch-sack, requiring virtually no intervention from the primitive state apparatus.

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Offensive operations during the fifth century BCE seem to have mostly taken the form of raids, often privately organized if, at times, state-sanctioned.1 A raid lasting a week or two needed more logistical input, but might still be managed privately, from a raider packing a sack full of grain, to an aristocratic warlord providing food and weapons to his followers, who likely numbered, at most, in the hundreds. In such raids, private individuals put up this ‘venture capital’ in the form of rations, weapons and time away from their farms, in the hopes of modest returns of spoils. While loot was central to financing early Roman military operations, funding warfare from the proceeds of spoils precluded more ambitious and concentrated military activity. The private funding of equipment and rations limited military participation to the wealthiest spectrum of society, those who had the capacity to self-fund the provision of their own equipment, horses and rations, either for themselves or their retainers. Any ancient society exclusively reliant on spoils by default denied its military endeavours the bulk of its own human capital. The Romans reached the limits of privately capitalized warfare at the end of the fifth century BCE, when they began, in 406 BCE, an extended series of campaigns around Veii. Veii by modern standards was laughably close: a mere 20 kilometres from Rome. But the objective of this campaign went beyond raiding. The Romans sought to besiege the city (probably simply by keeping troops stationed outside the city, rather than more advanced modes of circumvallation) for an extended period. The ten-year siege of Roman tradition, dubiously Homeric, need not be taken literally, but extended efforts spanning multiple campaigning seasons are plausible. The end-goal was not transient raiding, but conquest, as Veii was sacked and its lands annexed. This was not a war that could be sustained from personal provisions or aristocratic private enterprise. These more intensive operations were therefore funded through the introduction of a war tax, tributum.2 III Tributum and Stipendium Tributum allowed for the introduction of regular military pay (stipendium), so that the term stipendium was often used synonymously and interchangeably for tributum. Both terms referred to the same money: tributum when levied by tribe (tributim), which 1 2

Private modalities of early Roman warfare are elucidated most completely in Armstrong (2016a), see also Rich (2007). Liv. 5.2 dates the initiation of pay, stipendium, to the start of the war with Veii in 406 BCE, and at 5.10 assumes that tributum was already being collected to fund it. Curiously, the introduction of the stipendium seems to have been connected to the capture of Tarracina in 406 BCE, thus Liv. 4.59.11; Diod. Sic. 14.16.5. Plut. Cam. 2 only connects operations with Veii with the imposition of a tax on orphans. For tributum, see Marquadt (1884) 162–174; Nicolet (1976b; 1980); Meisner (2007); Armstrong (2016a) 211–214.

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then became stipendium when paid out to the soldiers.3 Roman military pay was not high, a mere three asses a day on the sextantal system, far less than Hellenistic troops were paid (four to nine obols, whereas Polybius reckons Roman military pay at two obols a day).4 But this military pay represented “venture capital” for poorer men, as the cost of weapons and rations was deducted from it. While this was a somewhat roundabout way of financing a logistical system (and some soldiers would have continued to provide their own weapons and even food so as to pocket more of their pay), deductions from stipendium for rations and equipment eventually funded a complex state-run supply apparatus.5 The introduction of stipendium did not immediately lead to a major expansion of the Roman army, but its existence allowed for the Romans to eventually draw from a deeper pool of manpower beyond a narrow, affluent, hoplite class.6 By 311 BCE, the annual deployment had grown in size to four legions, roughly 18,000 citizens (Liv. 9.30.3). Furthermore, Nathan Rosenstein has argued that the expansion of Roman citizenship, a practice that made Rome such a distinctive and unusual city-state by Mediterranean standards, may have been driven not so much to create a larger pool of military recruits, but rather to diffuse the fiscal burden of tributum.7 This proposal has recently been elaborated upon by James Tan, who has gone as far to suggest that a key factor for enfranchising a conquered community as cives sine suffragio, rather than leaving them as socii, was precisely to exploit their wealth. The status of socii, Tan argues, worked best for relatively poor communities, like the Samnites and other Apennine highlanders, who were worth exploiting as soldiers but had less to offer in terms of readily assessible property. For Tan the ideal candidate for sine suffragio status would be a city like ­Capua, famous for its agricultural wealth, which could then be rolled into the Roman tax base through enfranchisement.8 Tributum allowed for the increasingly complex warfare evident in the fourth century BCE, with Roman armies operating in Campania by the middle of the century and on the Adriatic by the end. While it was possible for ancient states to parley loot from one successful campaign to fund another, thus creating a virtuous cycle of victory and despoliation, it only took one major setback to not only disrupt the sequence, but potentially trigger a vicious counter-spiral of defeat and bankruptcy. Nevertheless,

3 4 5 6 7 8

The etymology of Var. Ling 5.181 (cf. Liv. 1.43) is likely here correct. Military pay: Plb. 6.39.12, who converts it to two obols (technically 3 ⅓ asses); Plaut. Mostell. 357 puts military pay at three nummi, and this should suggest that Polybius is roughly rounding three asses to two obols for his Greek readers. See Rathbone (1993) for discussion. On the scope and complexity of Roman logistics in the Middle Republic, see Roth (1998); Erdkamp (1998). For the affluence of Greek hoplites, see Van Wees (2001). Rosenstein (2012) 108. Tan (2020), see also Terrenato (2019) 126–133, who stresses the Italian interests in cooperating with Rome.

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Republican Rome proved extraordinarily immune to such setbacks and enjoyed an unusual capacity to rebound from seemingly catastrophic defeats, including the Gallic Sack, Caudine Forks, Cannae, among many others. Such resilience required money as well as manpower: one of the measures taken after Cannae was to double the rate of tributum (Liv. 23.31.1). The introduction of tributum also corresponded with a new type of war spoil: land. Until the early fourth century BCE, territorial expansion had not been a significant end-result of Roman war-making, either through lack of interest or simply because of relative weakness. Land, however, was a spoil that was in fact quite hard to partition, unlike moveable loot, such as bullion, cattle or slaves, which could either be divided directly between soldiers or sold and the proceeds distributed. But not every soldier necessarily wanted a plot of land. To be a soldier in the Servian system already required substantial property. Certainly, there were sons of assidui who feared that partitive inheritance would eventually diminish their family’s holdings, and therefore might welcome a captured plot. But many assidui would have seen little appeal in settling on a frontier parcel. Paradoxically, the people who needed land the most, dispossessed proletarii, were not eligible for military service. This may be one reason why so little conquest took place prior to the introduction of tributum, as privately funded raiders had little incentive to occupy land rather than simply engaging in smash-and-grab raids. Public funding for military operations, which guaranteed that all soldiers received economic benefits for conquering and occupying new lands, allowed for captured land to prove a collective spoil, either by maintaining it under state ownership as ager publicus, or by distributing it in a manner that produced positive externalities for the community, particularly land grants to poor plebeians that simultaneously reduced social tensions, increased the base for military recruitment, and augmented the food supply.9 Despite the importance of tributum to Roman war-making, we are extremely poorly informed about its collection, in no small part because Polybius, our most important source for the Middle Republic, arrived in Rome the year after tributum was permanently suspended in 167 BCE.10 While Polybius was an eyewitness to many key aspects of Roman civic life, such as elections, the levy, triumphs, the census, religious rituals, et cetera, he never saw how the tributum that had funded the Punic and Macedonian wars was collected. Indeed, in his Book Six, he never once mentioned the calibration of tributum rates as one of the prerogatives of the Senate, even as he notes the farming of indirect taxes in Italy by the censors (Plb. 6.17.2–4). Much of what we know about

9

Bernard (2016) notes that agrarian distributions at Veii correspond with an end of famine notices in Livy, although he suggests that the need to finance the dramatic expansion of small-holders may have precipitated a new social crisis related to debt. On public land in general, see Roselaar (2010). 10 Plin. HN 33.56, Plut. Aem. 38.1 on suspension.

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tributum comes from passing annalistic references in Livy and antiquarian titbits preserved in Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Varro and Festus.11 Claude Nicolet, in a highly influential reconstruction, suggested that the collection of tributum took place on the model of the Athenian eisphora.12 In Athens, by the middle of the fourth century BCE, citizens liable for the tax were divided into groups of one hundred (symmoria), and the three wealthiest men from each symmoria forwarded the tax on behalf of the group (proeisphora), subsequently collecting back their advance from the other members of their symmoria.13 Nicolet argued that the mysterious Roman officials known as tribuni aerarii (“tribunes of the treasury”) acted as the Athenian proeispherontes, forwarding the tributum owed by their tribes, and then either collecting it back, or waiting until their loan could be refunded by return of spoils from successful campaigns. This reconstruction was ingenious, but also highly conjectural. Nicolet made much of a passage from Plautus (Aulul. 508–31), in which a rich but harried character named Megadorus details the unenviable hassles of being a wealthy man. One inconvenience is a soldier waiting outside for his money (aes), even skipping his lunch to do so. Alas, the soldier will go away hungry and disappointed, given that after a consultation with his banker, an ever more frazzled Megadorus realizes he himself is broke. Nicolet argued that Megadorus was in fact a tribunus aerarii, and that the soldier was waiting to collect his pay. At some point in time Roman soldiers were indeed allowed to directly seize funds from tribuni aerarii for pay in arrears, as a fragment of Cato the Elder describes the writ of pignoris capio that soldiers might personally enforce against tribuni aerarii (Gell. NA 6.10.1–3). Such a writ was undoubtedly a fourth-century phenomenon (part of the obsolescent legis actio system), and would have been largely relevant for modest campaigns fought in Central Italy, where it was likely that in many years, when the campaign was over, the army disbanded before the tributum could be collected from the citizen body. Such a system did not translate to later expeditionary circumstances, since Roman armies deployed for much of the year by the late fourth century BCE.14 But by the third century BCE, Roman soldiers on expeditionary deployments were paid through their commander, not directly by tribuni aerarii, with centralized pay records maintained by the military quaestor. It is possible that the writ of pignoris capio had primarily applied to cavalrymen cum equo publico, who were paid a maintenance stipend for their horses even in peacetime, and so needed money outside of the centralized distributions generated by armies on campaign. Even by Cato’s time, the writ

11 12 13 14

Liv. 1.43; 24.15, 39.7.44; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.19; Var. Ling. 5.181; Festus s. v. tributorum collationem. Nicolet (1976b; 1980) 149–169. For discussion of the eisphora and proeispherontes, see Wallace (1989) and Christ (2007). Rosenstein (2004) 27–34 for the growing length of Roman campaigns during the fourth century BCE.

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seems to have been a facet of antiquarian trivia that required explanation, not an active legal form. While it is possible that Plautus is jokingly referring to what was even then an antiquated writ, it is just as likely that the miles waiting for his money is an obscure reference from the lost Greek original, perhaps the hired thug of a loan shark, or a returning mercenary who has become a loan shark himself. Contrary to Nicolet’s argument, there are thus some reasons to think that tributum worked very differently than the eisphora in Athens. Firstly, the eisphora was only levied on wealthy citizens, a pool of taxpayers only somewhat larger than the liturgical class.15 Tributum, in contrast, was paid by all citizens except for the poorest proletarii. Polybius reports that by the second century, the lowest census to be an assiduus in the Fifth Class, and thus eligible to pay tributum prior to 167 BCE, was a mere 400 denarii, which would include many small farmers living barely above subsistence level, who were still liable to contribute a few asses into the public treasury.16 Secondly, the Athenians did not conduct a careful census of property holdings that could then be used to levy the tax, beyond the vague Solonian categories of hippeis and zeugitai, which measured income in terms of agricultural produce rather than the assessed cash value of property. It was probably not until 378 BCE that men liable for the eisphora had their property holdings carefully recorded, so that they could pay proportionally to their wealth.17 The Romans, meanwhile, from an early date, meticulously assessed the property holdings of even common citizens, taking declarations of land, slaves, beasts of burden, cash on hand, outstanding loans, clothing and other material goods.18 Based on this, the Romans could then levy a tax across the citizen population, on the basis of so many asses per thousand, and expect it to be collected with reasonable precision. The ability to collect tributum reflects a high degree of administrative sophistication, and the ability to obtain, collate and deploy data about the citizen body in accordance with the administrative goals of the state. This takes us back to the role of the tribuni aerarii. It is quite possible that tribuni aerarii by necessity engaged in a some “banking” functions to facilitate the collection of tributum. James Tan has recently argued that tribuni aerarii were recruited from wealthy men already deeply embedded in the economy of their tribal regions, and were able to roll both tributum and stipendium into the complex nexus of credit and

15

16

17 18

For wealthy men as payers of eisphora, see Christ (2007) 54, who assembles scattered references. The exact wealth cut-off is unknown, if often assumed to be around a talent (6000 drachmas), perhaps drawing on the resources of a “leisure class”; see Ober (1989) 128. Rhodes (1982) puts the size of the eisphora-paying class at 2000 men. Rosenstein (2016b) 91–102 raises the possibility that members of the Fourth and Fifth Class did not pay tributum, on the basis of their exclusion from extraordinary naval levies during the Second Punic War. But collecting even small amounts from this sizable mass of taxpayers would have generated real income, and I think we should assume that as assidui they paid the tributum. Christ (2007). On the role of the census in the collection of tributum, see Northwood (2008).

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debt that characterized under-monetized premodern rural economies.19 But these were not necessarily the collective loans provided by the Athenian proeispherontes. Rather, tribuni aerarii may have instead helped to convert peasant contributions in the form of agricultural staples into ready money. Furthermore, following Tan, they may have leveraged other credits and debts in the economy to both collect some portion of tributum and pay out some stipendium without any money actually changing hands: we can imagine, for example, a tribunus aerarii simply pocketing the stipendium of a peasant-soldier who was previously indebted to him. Conversely, he might agree to cover the tributum owed by a cash-strapped assiduus in exchange for a promise of labour in the upcoming harvest. This is admittedly pure speculation, as tribuni aerarii remain enigmatic, but it would help explain why the Romans, with their primitive numismatic system prior to the denarius reform of c. 212 BCE, were able to collect a monetary tax from c. 400 BCE onwards.20 As hard cash was increasingly required to be shipped to armies overseas, however, tribuni aerarii likely transitioned into serving as door-todoor tax collectors, who used information from census declarations to track down and collect from individual assidui. One notable aspect of tribuni aerarii is that they were not senators or aristocrats from the senatorial class. In 70 BCE, the lex Aurelia, a compromise on the staffing of jury-courts, stipulated that the rolls would be drawn from a mix of senators, equestrians and tribuni aerarii.21 The implication is that tribuni aerarii were sub-senatorial, and probably were drawn from the wealthier stratum of equestrians. Returning to the early Republic, it is perhaps odd that the aristocratic gentes who ran the city did not directly collect the tributum themselves. After all, one model of Roman state formation, advocated by Nicola Terrenato, is that the early ‘state’ was in fact a loose coalition of gentes, who structured the state to coordinate their mutual interests, a process explicitly likened to the modern mafia.22 In such a situation, one might suspect that the gentes in charge might relish the opportunity to collect a new war tax themselves, as a further excuse to shake protection money from the community they dominated to pay their own clients in the army. But instead, the res publica deputized a new set of sub-aristocratic agents as tribunii aerarii to collect the new tax.23 If we accept Terrenato’s vision for the origins of the state, then the creation of tribuni aerarii represented a major evolutionary step in creating a fiscal process overseen by tribal agents from beyond the gentes, which in turn funded community military operations that transcended the old gentilician way of war.

19 Tan (2022). 20 On the dating of the denarius, see recently Walthall (2017). 21 Ascon. Pis. 17. 22 Most fully developed in Terrenato (2011). 23 Tan (2022) suggests the establishment of tributum may have helped ameliorate patricio-plebeian conflict.

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Tributum remained technically a loan which could be refunded to the citizens. Yet such refunds were rare, even as the Romans began to acquire substantial sums of loot during the third and second centuries BCE. The sources only attest two reimbursements: one by Fabricius Luscinus in 282 BCE, and the spectacular reimbursement by Manlius Vulso in 187 BCE.24 Livy reports that in 293 BCE the plebs agitated for a refund after the successful campaigns of Papirius Cursor, but were denied, and the loot was carried into the treasury instead (Liv. 10.46.5).25 Admittedly, we must be cautious about arguments given the spotty and sparse nature of the literary tradition, but the fact that only one reimbursement took place between 218 and 167 BCE, ground very well covered by Polybius, Livy and Plutarch, suggests that such reimbursements were indeed quite unusual. IV Financial Contribution of Tributum Perhaps the most basic question we should ask about tributum should be: how much could the Roman state expect to bring in? The tributum levied after Cannae offers some sense of the magnitude the Romans expected to collect. As noted above, in 215 BCE the Roman Senate ordered a doubling of the tributum collected the year before (Liv. 23.31). Half (simplex) was to go towards paying the legions in the field that had not disgraced themselves at Cannae. These numbered seven: two in Spain, one in Sardinia and four in Italy. We do not know what legionary pay was prior to the development of the denarius system, but if we use the denarius rate described by Polybius (i. e. 108 denarii a year), and already assume understrength legions, say 3500 infantry and 200 cavalry, the tributum simplex would come in at the equivalent of three million denarii, and the doubled rate (duplex) at six million.26 At least this is what the Senate hoped to raise: the total tributum raised even less than expected, and the legions in Spain scrounged for their own pay (Liv. 23.48.7). Still, the hard-pressed and demographically depleted Roman state was able to raise the heavy bronze equivalent of roughly five million denarii from tributum in a single year. In the early second century BCE, we have some indication of both the total property liable for tributum and the rate of its assessment. The evidence for Roman property values, as Tenney Frank noticed, comes from the reimbursement of Manlius Vulso. Each of his roughly 10,000 legionaries were paid a second stipendium, after which he would have had somewhat less than 23 million denarii left over to reimburse the tribu-

24 25 26

Luscinus: Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 19.16.3. Vulso: Liv. 39.7. It is possible that some of the tributum for that year was cancelled when the other consul, Sp. Carvilius, forced the Faliscans to provide the pay for his troops (Liv. 10.46.12), although this is not stated explicitly. For understrength legions during the Second Punic War, see Brunt (1971) 420.

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tum. This money was paid out to assidui at a rate of 25.5 asses per 1000 asses of assessed property, suggesting the total assessment roll had a valuation of around 900 million denarii.27 What then was the rate? It has traditionally been assumed that the rate of tributum was 1/1000. This is what Tenney Frank believed, and by such a calculation, tributum of one mil would have only raised around 900,000 denarii a year (which would only pay the stipendium of a legion and a half). This was so low that Frank fudged by postulating that property levels must have doubled in the second century BCE, and so estimated tributum at c. 1.8 million denarii a year, or 60 million between 200–167 BCE.28 One justification behind assuming a 1/1000 rate stems from an incident in 204 BCE, when Rome punished twelve Latin colonies that had declined to send troops earlier in the war. Each colony now had to furnish additional contingents of infantry and cavalry, and also had to pay a 1/1000 tax levied in the same manner as tributum was in Rome (Liv. 29.15). Would Rome have punished Latin allies with a tax rate that was lower than the one that the Romans themselves paid?29 However, the requirement to send troops itself was a fiscal, as well as demographic burden upon allied communities. Italian communities paid their own contingents in the Roman army.30 Thus the twelve colonies already had to come up with the money, through internal taxation, to pay the enlarged contingents that Rome demanded from them. The 1/1000 surtax to Rome, certainly intended to rub salt into the wound, was probably designed to compensate the Roman state for the logistical support it usually provided gratis to Italian contingents, especially free grain (Plb. 6.39.14). The punished allied communities would reimburse Rome, through the mil surtax, for the cost of feeding their own contingents. The incident therefore provides insufficient evidence to prove that tributum was a default mil tax, although it is entirely possible that there were years of relative peace prior to the outbreak of the Second Punic War, in which 1/1000 was indeed the tax rate. But the whole point of tributum was its flexibility (within certain parameters), as the tax burden could be adjusted based on the expense of the war.31

27

28 29 30 31

See Taylor (2020a) 126–128 for extended discussion. I previously (2017) 159–160 factored the total reimbursement at 21.5 million, for a tax base of 850 million, after subtracting the donative paid to Vulso’s soldiers (42 denarii to c. 200,000; roughly a million denarii). John Rich (this volume) has convinced me that this was paid out before the triumphal loot was inventoried by the treasury, and so should not be subtracted here. Any air of precision is itself specious. Even if we accept a base of 800–900 million denarii, the range of estimates of overall tributum collected from 200–167 would be relatively narrow (100–120 million). Frank (1932) 2–3; (1933) 139. Nicolet (1980) 158. Plb. 6.21.5 (each Italian contingent appoints its own paymaster); Cic. 2 Verr. 5.60. Rosenstein (2016b) 83.

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We learn the rate for a single year, that of 184 BCE, indirectly through the actions of Cato as censor. Seeking to crack down on luxury, Cato inflated by a factor of ten the census valuations of a wide variety of luxury goods. These goods were then subject to a tax rate of 3/1000.32 Censors did not set the rate of tributum, this was the domain of the Senate. Indeed, if Cato could set the rate, he simply could have set it at 30/1000 for certain items, without artificially inflating the census valuation. The fact that such an arbitrary assessment was necessary suggests that 3/1000 represented the flat rate of tributum fixed by the Senate for that year. A 0.003 rate on 900 million denarii would produce revenue of approximately 2.7 million denarii. 184 BCE was a year of relative peace by the standards of the second century BCE. There were eight legions in the field, and no major naval activity.33 The state enjoyed the steady payment of the Seleucid indemnity, which brought in six million denarii a year. 3/1000 was therefore probably the lowest assessment rate during the period from 200–167 BCE. I suspect that it was much higher in periods of intensive war (i. e. 200–194, 191–187, 171–167 BCE), which saw upwards of thirteen legions in the field and fleets of 75–100 quinqueremes, perhaps roughly twice as high. If we assume a 0.5 % rate for sixteen years of intensive warfare, and 0.3 % for years of relative peace, out of total taxable property worth 900 million, then the total tributum collected from 200–167 would approach 120 million denarii. This is a rough ‘back of the envelope’ estimate, but one can compare this estimate to the roughly 110 million denarii in spoils that entered the Roman treasury from triumphal processions or the 160 million worth of indemnities collected in that same period.34 This is not to say that spoils were an unimportant aspect of Roman state finances – they most certainly were. But the splendid triumphal hauls in Livy can obscure the steady background collection of citizen tax, which remained a pillar of Roman state finance until the sudden abolition of tributum following Paullus’ triumph. V Tributum and Spoils in the Context of Aristocratic and Popular Politics in Rome Tributum was not merely a mechanism for funding warfare, it was also a conscription tool. That is, men sui iuris who served in the legions were not liable to pay tributum in years in which they served (Liv. 5.10.6). The permanent suspension of tributum helps explain the military recruitment problems reported in the later second century BCE.

32 33 34

Liv. 39.44.2–3; Plut. Cat. Mai. 18.2–3. For the number of legions in any given year, see Brunt (1971) 424–425. For naval deployments, see Thiel (1946) 263–429. See Taylor (2017) 173–176; (2020) 135–137, for an overview of loot and indemnities attested in Roman sources.

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It has long been known that much of the manpower crisis was a mirage, in terms of the total population and also the total number of assidui.35 But it is hard to deny that the Romans struggled to fill the ranks during extended periods of grinding warfare, especially in Spain. The army of the later second century BCE overall seems to have drawn poorer recruits, illustrated by the lowering of the Fifth Class census to 375 HS (93.5 ­denarii), perhaps in the 140s BCE, well below the Polybian census of 400 d­ enarii.36 The Marian recruitment of proletarian volunteers was only the culmination of this trend.37 We also see the disappearance of Roman cavalry as a tactical force, as Roman cavalrymen only make occasional cameos in Caesar doing administrative tasks, while his Gallic auxiliaries do the heavy fighting.38 The permanent suspension of tributum after 167 BCE would indeed make military service less lucrative for the upper classes, who previously had seen tax savings through military service. Let us make a simple model for how the tributum remission earned by military service affected men of varying wealth. Let us assume a cavalryman possessing a census assessment at 30,000 denarii. We do not actually know what the equestrian census was in the Middle Republic (it was 400,000 HS by the Late Republic), but an extraordinary levy of slaves as naval crewmen imposed in 214 BCE (Liv. 24.11.8) placed an additional burden on men worth over 300,000 asses. It cannot be said for sure that this represented the precise cut-off for an equestrian census, but for the sake of this model it likely represents a plausible estate that an eques might possess. Let us also consider a wealthy infantryman in the First Class, with the well-attested census of 10,000 denarii, and a member of the Fifth Class at the Polybian census of 400 denarii.39 Let us assume, for the sake of the argument, a tributum rate of 3/1000, as it was for 184 BCE. I will assume that Roman military pay was three asses a day for infantry and triple for cavalry, and a fiscal year of 360 days was utilized, as in the Imperial period, thus 108 denarii a year for infantrymen and 324 denarii a year for a cavalrymen.40 Again, it must be stressed that these tax savings would only accrue to men who were sui iuris, although given the grim mortality of the ancient world, the majority of men of military age (17–45) did not have a living father.41 35 36 37 38 39 40

41

Rich (1993); Roselaar (2010) 191–200. Rathbone (1993) for discussion of Roman census classifications. Cadiou (2018) quite effectively deconstructs the notion of a Marian reform permanently creating a proletarian army, but the incident clearly shows that poor men were eager to serve, while the levy was unpopular with more prosperous assidui. On the disappearance of Roman cavalry, see McCall (2002) 100–136, despite the protests of ­Cadiou (2016). First-class census: Plb. 6.23.14. Fifth: Plb. 6.19.2. Estimates of Roman military pay during the Republic run from 120 denarii a year (assuming Polybius’ two obols is one third of a denarius, or 3 ⅓ asses, see note 4) or even 106.5 denarii a year (based on the Republican calendar of 355 days). The exact pay rate does not change the basic conclusions of the model constructed here. See Rosenstein (2016b) 87 for a demographic model.

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Prior to 167 BCE, a cavalryman would be paid 324 denarii for a year of service, from which he would see deductions for rations, fodder and the maintenance of his attendants. But if sui iuris, he would save an additional 90 denarii from his tributum from a hypothetical estate worth 30,000 denarii. The tributum saved amounted to roughly 20 % the total benefit of service, and even more of his net benefit. Meanwhile, an infantryman in the First Class worth 10,000 denarii would be paid 108 denarii a year, but if sui iuris he would save 30 denarii in tributum payments from property worth 10,000 denarii. The tributum saved would similarly amount to roughly 20 % of the total benefit of service, and a far greater proportion of the take-home benefit, given that he would suffer a number of deductions from his military pay. Tax savings amounting to 30 denarii would be a real if modest benefit even to a prosperous assiduus, as a farm worth 10,000 denarii would only generate several hundred denarii in income. Of course, an extra 30 denarii or so in tax savings might not necessarily make or break a decision for a man sui iuris to actively volunteer for service or seek an exemption (or dodge the draft!), but it would no doubt be a contributing factor in such decisions. But now let us take an infantryman at the lowest end of the Fifth Class, worth 400 denarii. He would still get paid his 108 denarii a year (minus deductions), but if sui iuris he would save only 1.2 denarii in tributum. The tributum credit would only be worth 1 % of his total benefit for military service. Therefore, the abolition of tributum significantly reduced the fiscal rewards of military service for sui iuris equestrians and infantrymen in the upper classes, while hardly impacting those of the lower classes, who paid very little tributum on their small properties, and benefited more from the income provided by military pay. The permanent suspension of tributum undergirded the trouble the Romans had recruiting equestrians and prosperous assidui into the legions after 167 BCE, increasingly relying on poorer assidui and, on occasion, proletarii. Indeed, the decision to drop the property requirements for the Fifth Class down to 375 HS (93.5 denarii) may have less to do with any sudden manpower crisis or mass impoverishment than a follow-on effect of the suspension of tributum.42 The previous limit, 400 denarii, likely set during the Second Punic War, created a tension between maximizing the number of men eligible for legionary service, while keeping the property floor at a level where it was still worth collecting taxes – even a denarius or two – from assidui near the bottom. With tributum suspended, the requirement could be dropped down to a truly nominal minimum. Other considerations no doubt played a role in the decision to reduce the Fifth Class requirement, including the end of major fleet deployments, so that proletarii who had previously served as rowers were now made eligible for legionary service.

42

The exact date of this final drop in the fifth-class census requirement is unclear, but it probably happened in the 140s BCE, as part of the sesterce’s revaluation.

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VI Refunds of Tributum Unlike Athenian eisphora, which was a progressive, quasi-liturgical wealth tax, tributum was a basically regressive flat tax, save for the exemption of the poorest proletarii. The people had no say in the decision to collect tributum, nor any influence on the rate, which was set by the Senate each year, based on anticipated military expenses, again unlike the Athenian eisphora, which was authorized by the assembly.43 The tributum was collected off the assessments imposed by the censors, men at the end of their political careers, who generally had few reasons to pander for votes. In Livy’s narrative, tributum was consistently unpopular. Livy imagines frequent fourth-century BCE popular discontent over tributum, as well as the crushing weight of tributum during the Second Punic War.44 Manlius Vulso supposedly reimbursed the tributum in 187 BCE as a decidedly popular gesture (ad populi quoque gratiam conciliandam; Liv. 39.7.4). Yet the aristocrats who ruled Rome were never fully immune to popular will.45 James Tan has demonstrated that the Roman people escalated their political engagement during moments of high tributum, so that the senatorial class paid a price for high taxation in the form of various popular concessions during the Punic Wars.46 Furthermore, individual aristocrats were locked in furious competition for the votes of common Roman citizens. Given the popular aspects of the Roman political system, it is surprising that refunds of tributum were not more frequent. Part of the answer must be that the military mobilizations of the early second century BCE, between eight and thirteen legions a year, and the occasional deployments of massive fleets, were extraordinarily expensive, and simply could not be financed from indemnities or loot alone.47 But the Romans also spent a great deal of money on matters other than warfare.48 The early second century saw a burst of lavish public building by the censors.49 Meanwhile, commanders chose to spend their share of the loot on temples and games, rather than trying to boost their popularity with a tributum refund.

43 44 45 46 47

48 49

Nicolet (1980) 164–165. Mersing (2007) 216. Stress of tributum: Liv. 2.23.5 (fourth century); 23.48.7–8 (Second Punic War). Millar (1984), even if he overstates the case somewhat. While a more pessimistic view of popular politics in Rome has emerged in reaction to Millar (e. g. Hölkeskamp 2004b; Mouritsen 2017), the Roman elite was not immune to the vagaries of public opinion and the uncertainty of public votes. Tan (2017) 93–143. See Taylor (2017) 165 and (2020) 128 for the gap between income from loot and indemnities, a gap filled by tributum. Rosenstein 2011; 2016a notes the inadequacy of loot to fund most campaigns, even if a few were extraordinarily profitable. See Brunt (1971) 454 for second-century legionary deployments; and Thiel (1946) 263–429 for second-century BCE fleets. Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 4.19.1, anachronistic in projecting to the regal period, but probably accurate in terms of the fiscal forecasting. See Taylor (2017) 155–157 and (2020) 119–121, where I estimate public work expenditures at roughly 45 million denarii from 200–157 BCE.

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The Senate’s de facto control over state finances no doubt created motive to limit the political benefit that might accrue to single aristocrats from such a reimbursement. While each individual magistrate had cause to maximize his own comparative advantage, senators as a collective had every reason to prevent an ambitious colleague from gaining any special advantage. If a vainglorious returning commander wanted to boost his own popularity and prestige with a refund, the default answer from the Senate was almost certainly no. Curiously, Livy suggests that Manlius Vulso was not well liked by his senatorial peers (e. g. Liv. 38.45), even as he managed to obtain the Senate’s approval to distribute over twenty million denarii. It is possible the Senate was responding to otherwise unattested popular pressure after the high taxation necessary to fund the Syrian War. It is not implausible that a popular tax revolt loomed beneath the surface, which might also explain the subsequent trial of the Scipios for embezzlement. Or perhaps Vulso, while disliked by many fellow senators, was allowed to aggrandize himself as a potential counterweight to the even more hated Scipio brothers. Yet the political rewards of a refund for an ambitious aristocrat were also less than they might seem. One problem with reimbursing tributum from a political point of view is that in most instances even a large sum of money would not go very far if distributed amongst c. 150,000–200,000 tax-paying citizens (i. e. citizen males sui iuris, very roughly ⅔ of the adult male citizen population of c. 225,000–300,000 during the second century BCE).50 The reimbursement of 187 BCE was unusual in that Manlius Vulso brought home an immense sum of loot, including indemnity payments from Antiochos III. This haul provided a substantial benefit even after it was divided among the large tax-paying population: a member of the First Class worth 10,000 denarii received 255 denarii (perhaps the value of several iugera of land or even a cheap slave), while even a poor member of the Fifth Class worth 400 denarii received ten denarii, probably several weeks’ worth of wages for an unskilled labourer.51 But such a boon came after one of the richest triumphs in Republican history; the spoils carried would not be exceeded until Aemilius Paullus’ spectacular plunder from Macedonia. If, as a counterfactual example, the spoils from the Ligurian triumph of Gaius Claudius in 177 BCE, who displayed only 307,000 denarii and 85,702 victoriati, would have been used to refund tributum, these would only have provided a risible mass distribution of spare change. By and large, Roman aristocrats preferred to deploy their spoils in a more targeted fashion, most obviously in direct distributions to soldiers, who provided a readily groomed electoral constituency for former commanders. This generally came in the form of donatives, typically paid equally to citizen and allied soldiers. Two commanders, Lucius Scipio and Q. Fulvius Flaccus, who both triumphed with sufficient loot 50 51

See Rosenstein (2016b) 87 for a more detailed estimate of the number of Roman taxpayers. Cat. Mai. Ag. 22.3 estimates a daily wage of 1/2 denarius (2 HS) for an unskilled labourer or wagon driver.

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to potentially sponsor a tributum refund, instead used their spoils to not only issue a donative, but also provide their legionaries with a second stipendium, lavishing extra money on those citizen troops who were also voters.52 Conversely, successful generals also attempted to magnify the impact of small amounts of loot through the erection of manubial temples, which might serve as political billboards for the family for decades to come.53 Manlius Vulso’s failed bid for the censorship of 184 BCE (he was beaten by Cato the Elder and Valerius Flaccus) provides stark proof that the political benefits of even a massive tributum refund were transient at best. Still, community financing of warfare through tributum also gave the community a claim on the movable spoils captured in warfare, creating competing claims, never fully resolved, between the general, the soldiers and the taxpayer. By the Middle Republic, if not earlier, generals were not able to dispose of their share of the spoils, manubiae, for private gain, but had to expend it on a public purpose approved by the Senate.54 The most common projects were either manubial temples or votive games, which not only maintained the pax deorum, but provided urban architecture and entertainment to the people, while also providing a venue for aristocratic display. Occasionally, such projects could be more grandiose, including the aqueduct built by M’. Curius Dentatus from his spoils taken from Pyrrhus.55 Meanwhile, generals were expected to deposit large sums of loot into the treasury. The Duilius monument, inscribed in 260 BCE, gives a long list of sums (imperfectly preserved), praedad poplom [donavet]. Aristocratic competition around sums deposited into the treasury provided motivation for generals to place some limits on the spoils they distributed to their soldiers or embezzled for themselves. Thus tributum, even if it was rarely refunded, undergirded a broader political discourse, that publicly funded warfare existed to benefit the Roman people, either through funding public amenities and infrastructure, or through maximizing deposits into the public treasury. The ancient tradition attributed the permanent suspension of tributum to Aemilius Paullus and the massive haul of loot he brought back from Macedonia in 167 BCE.56 Surely this is an Aemilian point of view. It is likely that the suspension was initially similar to the reimbursement of Manlius Vulso: a temporary benefit pushed through the Senate by an ambitious triumphator, placating a tax-weary populace after an expensive war. Factors beyond Paullus’ auctoritas must have conspired to make it permanent. 52

L. Scipio: Liv. 37.59.6; Flaccus: Liv. 40.43.6 The electoral benefits of this generosity were mixed: L. Scipio lost his bid for the censorship of 184 BCE; Flaccus was elected consul for 179 BCE while awaiting his triumph (before the money was given to the soldiers, although they may well have been promised it before the election) and also achieved the censorship for 174 BCE. 53 Aberson (1994). 54 Churchill (1999). 55 Frontin. Aq. 1.6. 56 Plut. Aem. 38.1; Plin. HN 33.56; Cic. Off. 2.76.

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One, for which Paullus could in fact take credit, was the 100-talent (672,000 denarii) annual tribute imposed upon the four Macedonian republics to Rome.57 This alone would not replace the annual income from tributum as estimated above, but it certainly represented a new, regular, and enduring revenue stream. This was not the only new source of income in the mid-second century BCE, as Rome began to systematically exploit both Italy and the Mediterranean for its own financial gain. The censors in 199 and 179 BCE had created a series of taxes in Campania, to be collected by tax farmers.58 Badian was quite likely right to suggest that accelerated collection of indirect taxes helped displace tributum.59 Relative peace in Iberia after 178 BCE also made collection of various taxes and tithes in the Spanish provinces more regular (at least until a new spasm of violence in 153 BCE). We do not have a good sense of when the Romans started to receive major income from the Spanish mines. The signature isotopes of Iberian silver were conspicuously absent in Roman coins for much of the early second century BCE.60 But that seems to have changed by the 140s BCE, as Polybius reported the exploitation of a particularly rich vein of silver near New Carthage, which he claimed brought in 25,000 denarii a day to the public treasury (Plb. 34.9.8–9; Strabo 3.2.10). It may be that the sudden emergence of a silver boom in Iberia funded the most lavish Republican public work project on record, the 45 million denarii spent on the Aqua Marcia (Frontin. Aq. 1.7.4.). These new revenues escalated during a lull in military expenditure, the underlying justification for tributum. Roman war costs plummeted after the Third Macedonian War. The war fleet was dry-docked. The number of deployed legions fell from eight to thirteen between 200–167 BCE down to only six or so in the 160s and 150s BCE.61 The combination of new revenues and reduced war costs solidified the suspension of tributum into a de facto abolition. Tributum had been an enduring aspect of state finance in the Republic for roughly two and a half centuries. It was abolished less because of a single victory or haul of spoils, but rather through the convergence of a new set of mechanisms to exploit Rome’s Mediterranean hegemony.

57 Plut. Aem. 28.6. N. b. that while a talent is often reckoned at 6000 denarii, an Attic talent of 80 Roman pounds would coin 6720 denarii on the 1/84 standard in use by the second century BCE. 58 Liv. 32.7.3, 40.51.9; Plb. 6.17.2. 59 Badian 1972: 62–63. 60 Albarède et al. (2016). See also Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume. 61 Brunt (1971) 426–427 proposes between four and six legions for this period.

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VII Conclusion The introduction of tributum, and the military pay it funded, represented an important moment in the history of Roman war-making and the Roman state more broadly, providing the capital for more ambitious military operations. Intensively collected by sub-elite agents, the tribuni aerarii, tributum likely rivalled spoils and indemnities as a significant source of war finance. The pressure of tributum payments, which were excused to citizens sui iuris who served in the army, had the benefit of spurring military participation. Rome’s dependence on tributum meant that the state was rarely in a position to refund payments, despite some popular pressure to do so. Nonetheless, the public finance of war also gave the community new claims on the spoils of war. Michael J. Taylor State University of New York at Albany [email protected]

Roman Spoils and Triumphs, 218–167 BCE* John Rich I Introduction The most potent symbol of the centrality of war and its spoils in Roman life was the ceremony of the triumph, in which a victorious commander paraded through the city at the head of his army before ascending the Capitol to make his votive sacrifice. The commander’s chariot was preceded by his spoils and captives. The spoils on display usually included bullion and coin, and there might also be a range of other items such as artworks, enemy weaponry and even captured animals. At the end of the procession, the bullion and coin were deposited in the treasury (aerarium), housed in the Temple of Saturn. Our most detailed information on individual triumphal parades, and in particular on the deposited wealth, is provided by Livy’s notices in the extant later part of his history, Books 21–45, covering the years 218–167 BCE. In recent years Ida Östenberg has published an excellent monograph on triumphal displays, and Livy’s evidence and its implications for Roman war finances has been the subject of a number of other studies.1 However, in view of its importance and its significance for the theme of the present volume, this chapter offers a further examination of this material and related questions.

*

1

I am very grateful to the participants in the Bochum workshops for their comments on successive versions of this paper, to Toni Ñaco del Hoyo for further advice and bibliographical help, and especially to Marian Helm and Saskia Roselaar for inviting me to the workshops, for their hospitality and for their editorial work on the final draft. Wolters (2008); Östenberg (2009); Coudry (2009b); Rosenstein (2011, 2016a); Rowan (2013) 369–74; Kay (2014) 29–35; Taylor (2020a) 124–125, 131–138, 212–215, revised from Taylor (2017); Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume.

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II Triumphs, 218–167 BCE Livy’s later books cover two very different periods in the history of Roman warfare, and this is reflected in a marked variation in triumphal frequency.2 Over the last three centuries of the Republic the average incidence of triumphs was 0.7 per year – roughly two triumphs every three years. However, during the Second Punic War (218–201), only five commanders celebrated triumphs. The years 218–212, when the Romans had their backs to the wall, saw no triumphs, and even in the following years, when the conflict with Carthage and its allies turned decisively to the Romans’ advantage, triumphs were only sparingly granted. By contrast, the years 200–167 were a time of largely victorious warfare on three fronts: great wars were fought in the Greek East against Philip V of Macedon, Antiochus III, and Philip’s son Perseus, along with their allies (respectively 200–195, 191–188, 171–167), and there was also frequent, mostly successful fighting in northern Italy (against Gauls and Ligurians) and in Spain. Thirty-nine triumphs were celebrated in these years, an annual average of 1.15 per year. The only other periods when a comparable frequency was achieved were the early third century, when the conquest of central and southern Italy was being completed, and the years 47–19, when dynasts like Caesar and Octavian took multiple triumphs themselves and granted them lavishly to their associates. The Romans’ expanded commitments led to changes in commanders’ status. Down to the mid-third century most victories were won and triumphs celebrated by the chief magistrates of the year, but some use had already been made of commanders prorogued as proconsuls after the end of their year of office. From the later third century, consuls, whether in office or prorogued, were no longer enough to meet all the Romans’ commitments, and regular use was accordingly made of praetors as commanders. In and after the Second Punic War special arrangements were made for commands in Spain: from 210 to 198 private citizens were deployed there with special grants of imperium, and in 197 two praetors were added to provide the commanders in Spain, with instructions to delimit their provinces (Hispania Citerior and Ulterior). Praetorian commanders account for the notably high rate of triumphs in the years 200–167. In those years nineteen consular commanders got triumphs, a not exceptional rate, but no less than eighteen praetorians held triumphal celebrations. Most of these commanded in Spain, but four served in subordinate, but nominally independent roles in the East, three as fleet commanders and one in Illyricum. However, this heyday of praetorian commands did not last: the praetorian commanders’ role came to be mainly garrisoning and governing their provinces, and in later years they seldom 2

On the frequency of triumphs and its implications for policy, and for further references, see Rich (2014), whose conclusions for this period are summarized in this section. Pittenger (2008) provides a detailed study of the triumphs of 218–167 and their presentation by Livy. Beard (2007) is an outstanding (if sometimes over-sceptical) study of all aspects of the triumph.

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won successes sufficient for a triumph. Consuls, who in the early second century were deployed mainly in northern Italy or for the great eastern wars, were subsequently deployed wherever major warfare occurred, including Spain. The third and second centuries also saw an upsurge of triumphs of special types. Once the Romans embarked on naval warfare in the First Punic War, their victories at sea were celebrated in naval triumphs, of which eleven were held between 260 and 167, the last recorded. Why this distinction was made remains unknown. The most important factor may have been the celebrating personnel: in naval triumphs, the forces marching behind the commander included the sailors (socii navales).3 Between 231 and 172 four commanders whose application for a triumph had been rejected by the Senate celebrated one anyway, outside Rome on the Alban Mount, at its temple to Jupiter Latiaris. It is unclear why no subsequent commanders adopted this expedient.4 When commanders applied to triumph, the Senate’s main concern would normally have been to determine whether they had won a sufficient success to merit it, for example by winning a substantial enough victory without unduly heavy loss. The new complexities led to issues of various kinds arising over whether the c­ ircumstances of the triumph met customary expectations. The Senate has sometimes been held to have acted with no consistency on such matters, but in my view it can be seen to have evolved policies and conformed to them with reasonable consistency. For a time, much use came to be made in these circumstances of the ovation, a form of minor triumph, which had long been obsolete but was revived for Marcellus in 211. One issue on which the Senate stood firm was that private citizens holding special commands were not entitled to full triumphs. Scipio was denied a celebration on his return from Spain in 206, but two of his successors with this status were allowed ovations, in 200 and 196. It was left to Pompey to breach the rule, holding two full triumphs, in 81/80 and 71, while still a private citizen and not even a senator. Perhaps the most delicate issue concerned commanders who had been obliged to leave their army behind to garrison their province, an increasingly common requirement, and so were unable to have their soldiers process behind their chariot in the traditional way. The first commander to seek a triumph in these circumstances was Marcellus on his return from Sicily in 211. The debate then was highly political, and the outcome was that Marcellus, to his disgust, was obliged to content himself at Rome with an ovation, making up for it by holding an Alban Mount triumph the day before. Subsequently, it became not uncommon for commanders returning without their armies to be accorded a full triumph. A rule appears to have been formulated and ob3 4

Attested for Cn. Octavius’ naval triumph in 167 (Liv. 45.42.3), and no doubt standard in naval triumphs. In the same year L. Anicius Gallus’ Illyrian triumph included sailors as well as soldiers (Liv. 45.43.7). On naval triumphs see Dart & Vervaet (2011). On Alban Mount triumphs see Brennan (1996); Rosenberger (2009).

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served in the early second century that such a commander could hold a full triumph if he had finished his war (as Marcellus, rather tendentiously, was deemed not to have done).5 The Senate perhaps had some concerns about the high number of praetorian commanders claiming triumphs from early second century Spain, and five of them, for one reason or another, had to be content with ovations. Once praetorians ceased to win regular victories in Spain, ovations fell into disuse, except for a new category of wars against unworthy enemies: from 132 on, the victors of slave wars were accorded ovations. III Spoils and their Disposal on Campaign A large part of the spoils acquired by Roman forces was not brought home to be paraded in triumphs, but was disposed of on the spot, and a good deal of this went to the troops themselves. Much plunder was no doubt seized and simply retained by soldiers after a victory or the capture of a city. In principle, as described by Polybius (10.15–17), the gathering of the spoils was an orderly process, with the soldiers collecting it and then stacking it up at a designated location for the commander to ordain its disposal. The reality may often have been much less disciplined, as Ziółkowski (1993) has shown. Our sources, especially Livy, give much information about the arrangements commanders made for the immediate disposal of the spoils, and this evidence has been admirably collected by Coudry.6 Commanders’ despatches may have included such details and could be the ultimate source of some of these reports, but no doubt many are just historians’ plausible invention, particularly for early Roman wars. However, for later centuries, our sources’ reports do enable us to reach some conclusions about customary practice. Commanders usually tried to retain precious metal treasure and other items of high value, sometimes mounting guards, as Marcellus did for the royal treasure at Syracuse when the city was captured in 211.7 The rest of the spoils were generally disposed of as expeditiously as possible. A common practice was for commanders to sell the prisoners, retaining the proceeds, and distribute the remainder to the soldiers. This is attested in numerous passages, and Cicero acted in this way when he found himself capturing the mountain town Pindenissum in Cilicia (perhaps consciously following a

5 6 7

See Liv. 39.29.4–5; Rich (2014) 227–279. Coudry (2009b) 23–28, 63–71. See also Walbank (1967) 217; Oakley (1997) 409–411; Gauthier in this volume. Liv. 24.31.8; Plut. Marc. 19.7.

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procedure with which Roman histories had made him familiar).8 Other references are less explicit, merely speaking of the spoils as being partly sold and partly distributed to the soldiers,9 or just reporting their being granted the spoils.10 According to Polybius (10.16.5), it was the responsibility of the military tribunes after the capture of the city to distribute the share of the spoils assigned to the soldiers equally between them. If the soldiers remained physically in possession of their share of the spoils, the army would have been burdened, so the troops will normally have sold their shares to camp-following traders.11 Occasionally the commander opted instead to sell all the spoils and make a payment to the troops.12 However, despite the awkwardness of dividing miscellaneous plunder equitably, direct distribution seems to have been the normal method, perhaps because the soldiers preferred to get their hands on the loot.13 Whichever means was used, the traders will normally have been able to buy the spoils cheap.14 In the fifth century some commanders are said to have retained all their spoils for the treasury, withholding any share from the troops and accordingly provoking resentment.15 Whatever the truth of these tales, no such action is reported in later times, and it seems likely that all victorious commanders then distributed a share of the spoils to their army immediately after it had been won by their efforts.16 These distributions could, however, sometimes become a source of contention. M. Livius Salinator was convicted in an assembly trial following his command in Illyria in 219, according to Frontinus for unfair distribution.17 Plutarch’s version of Aemilius Paullus’ pay-out to 8 Cic. Att. 5.20.5: militibus … exceptis reliquam praedam concessimus. So also Liv. 23.37.12– 13; 24.16.5; 27.19.2; 41.11.8; cf. 43.19.12. For this procedure followed at Tarentum in 209 see Eutrop. 3.16.1; Oros. 4.18.5; cf. Plut. Fab. 22.6. At New Carthage and Baecula Scipio gave the plunder other than the captives to the soldiers and spared the Iberian prisoners (Plb. 10.16–17, 39–41; Liv. 26.49, 27.19.2). 9 E. g. Liv. 25.14.12; 33.11.2; 36.30.1; 37.5.3; 38.23.10. At 33.11.2 Livy has added this detail to his Polybian original (Plb. 18.34.8; Briscoe 1973, 268), and the same may be true in the later passages, for which Polybius was also his source, but is not extant. 10 E. g. Liv. 24.39.7; 27.1.2; 31.27.4; 40.16.9; 44.45.3. 11 Cf. Liv. 10.17.6, 20.16. 12 So Liv. 35.1.12, and see below n. 18 (Epirus). 13 Cf. Walbank 1967, 217, rightly insisting that direct distribution was the method used at New Carthage rather than prior sale (as would be implied by Casaubon’s emendation πραθέντων for the manuscript reading πραχθέντων at Plb. 10.16.5). For a different view see Coudry (2009b) 26. 14 For the low prices likely to be realized for plunder sold in the field see Plb. 14.7.13; Rosenstein (2011) 147–8, 151. However, the manuscript reading of 120,000 sesterces for the sum realized by Cicero’s sale of his captives (Att. 5.20.5) may be corrupt (contra Shackleton Bailey 1968, 228–229). See García-Morcillo in this volume. 15 Liv. 2.42.1–2; 3.31.4–6; 4.49.9, 53.10; 5.26.8. 16 An apparent exception is the conduct of Laevinus after taking Agrigentum in 210: after executing the anti-Roman ringleaders, he is said to have sold the rest of the inhabitants and the plunder and sent all the proceeds to Rome (Liv. 26.40.13). However, treachery had enabled him to enter the city unopposed, and the troops had already profited handsomely from the capture of Syracuse. 17 Frontin. Strat. 4.1.45: quod praedam non aequaliter diuiserat militibus; see below, section III.

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his troops after his sack of Epirus seems implausibly low, but resentment that they had not got more in Macedonia itself nearly led to his being deprived of his triumph.18 IV The Commander’s Share Commanders themselves commonly retained a portion of the spoils after their return to Rome, and sometimes used this for the construction or adornment of public buildings or for other public benefactions. Their right to retain spoils continues to be hotly disputed by scholars. Some insist that commanders were only entitled to retain spoils in order to spend them on public benefactions and that any who diverted them to their own use were liable to prosecution for embezzlement of public property or funds (peculatus).19 Others claim that commanders were entitled to retain as much of the spoils as they wished and to use it as they pleased, including sharing it among their friends or keeping it for themselves.20 Both views seem to present too rigid an account of a situation which may have been governed by customary expectations rather than hard-and-fast rules.21 Little light can be thrown on the issue from the related problem of the meaning of the term manubiae and its distinction from praeda, the normal equivalent for the English word spoils. The scholars of the imperial period were themselves uncertain about the word’s meaning and origin. Aulus Gellius, while acknowledging that manubiae and praeda were often regarded as synonyms, preferred the view of his friend and teacher Favorinus, who, claiming the authority of ‘ancient’ writers (ueteres), insisted that in correct usage praeda denoted items directly captured from the enemy and manubiae money realized by the sale of praeda (Gell. NA 13.25.1–6, 24–32). This definition formed the basis for Mommsen’s view of the question, which for long led the field.22 However, as is now generally recognized, the definition is incompatible with attested ancient usage: praeda is often used not only of directly captured spoils but also of cash raised by its sale, while manubiae can be used for other forms of spoils as well as cash, and the very passage of Cicero which Gellius reports Favorinus as citing in his support in fact

18

19 20 21 22

Liv. 45.34.8–39.20; Plut. Aem. 30.4–32.1. According to Liv. 45.34.5, the soldiers’ share of the sum realized from the sale of the plunder from Epirus was 200 denarii each for infantry and 400 for cavalry, whereas Plut. Aem. 29.5 reports it as a mere 11 drachmae (= denarii), judged ‘an absurdly small sum’ by Briscoe 2012, 721. So Bona (1960); Gnoli (1979) 74–104; Churchill (1999); Coudry (2009b) 44–52; Rosenstein (2011) 133–136; Davies (2017) 282. Earlier views are well summarized by Bona (1960) 106–112. So Shatzman (1972), followed by e. g. Harris (1979) 75–76; Briscoe (1981) 391; Aberson (1994) 54–101; Tarpin (2009); Kay (2014) 30–35. For similar views see Fabia (1904); Vogel (1948) 1954. So Orlin (1997) 117–127. Mommsen (1879) 432–455, (1899) 765.

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speaks of the sale of manubiae.23 An alternative definition is provided by Pseudo-Asconius, who speaks of manubiae as ‘the spoils of the commander taken as his share from the enemy’ and tells us that commanders ‘could do what they wished from it’.24 Great weight has been put on these statements by scholars arguing that commanders had an unrestricted right to their share of the spoils.25 However, the author links them to the claim that, for the ‘ancients’ (ueteres), manubiae were arms and armour stripped from an enemy noble. A similar conception of manubiae appears in definitions offered by other scholiasts and grammarians, and is probably mere antiquarian speculation. In extant literature and epigraphy, the usage of the term manubiae does not appear to be fully consistent, but it is most commonly used of spoils retained by commanders after their return and triumph and in connection with its deployment for the construction or adornment of public buildings or other benefactions.26 Commanders do not appear to have been under a clear legal obligation to retain spoils only in order to make a public benefaction. No reliable ancient source explicitly attests such a rule,27 and, although we hear of a number of prosecutions relating to spoils, they do not clearly show such a rule in operation, and the absence of such indications is a strong argument against its existence.28 Until the first century such prosecutions could only be brought before the popular assembly, where the prosecuting tribunes had considerable freedom in formulating charges, and were often activated by personal or political motives. Three such trials relating to spoils are attested in our period. One late source (uir. ill. 50.1) claims that Livius Salinator was convicted of peculatus following his command in Illyria, but, as we have seen, another, probably more reliable, source reports the charge as unfair distribution of spoils. Both M.’ Acilius Glabrio and the Scipio brothers were prosecuted following their commands against Antiochus in 191 and 190. There are some references to spoils in the complex and mostly dubious evidence on the Scipionic trials, but the most reliable reports on the charges relate to Antiochus’ initial indemnity payment under the peace settlement, and an alleged bribe from the king is also mentioned.29 Only

23 Cic. Leg. Agr. fr. 4, and also at 2.53. 24 Ps.-Ascon. ad Cic. 2 Verr. 1.154, 157 (pp. 254–5 Stangl): manubiae sunt autem praeda imperatoris pro portione de hostibus capta. …. et erat imperatorum haec praeda, ex qua quod uellent facerent. 25 See especially Shatzman (1972) 180–181. 26 For analyses of the usage of the terms praeda and manubiae see especially Bona (1960) 113–148; Shatzman 1972 (179–188). Churchill 1999 (87–93) unconvincingly attempts to explain them as distinguishing spoils according to the manner of their acquisition. 27 The reference to a law requiring all spoils to be sold for the benefit of the treasury, attributed by Dionysius (7.63.2) to a tribune speaking in 491 BCE, is obviously worthless as evidence for the legal position at any time. 28 For discussion of the various trials of commanders on issues relating to spoils see Shatzman (1972) 188–198; Churchill (1999) 101–109. 29 Plb. 23.14.7; Gell. NA 4.18.3, 7–9, 6.19.8; Liv. 38.54.3, 55.6; Val. Max. 8.1. damn.1; Zonar. 9.20.12. On the trials of the Scipios see now Briscoe (2008) 170–179; Rich (2013) 3.352–8, with further bibliography.

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Glabrio’s case is clearly reported as relating to spoils: according to Livy (37.57.12–58.1), the charge laid by the tribunes was ‘that he had not carried in his triumph or returned to the treasury a quantity of royal money and spoils captured in Antiochus’ camp’ (quod pecuniae regiae praedaeque aliquantum captae in Antiochi castris neque in triumpho tulisset neque in aerarium rettulisset), and it was supported by eyewitness testimony from Cato. However, the reliability of Livy’s evidence is not above doubt here, and he acknowledges that the prosecution was dropped when it achieved its aim of inducing Glabrio to abandon his candidature for the censorship. At some point in the early first century, a standing jury-court (quaestio) was established for peculatus by a law which will have defined the offence. The court was later regulated by a Lex Iulia, passed by either Caesar or Augustus, and an imperial jurist states that under this law ‘he who misappropriated spoils captured from the enemy’ was guilty of peculatus.30 However, if it dates back to the Republican period, this provision may have been designed against soldiers and others making off with spoils rather than against commanders. It may have been before this court that the young Pompey was unsuccessfully prosecuted in 86/5 in relation to his inheritance from his father Cn. Pompeius Strabo, which was alleged to include embezzled public property. Plutarch (Pomp. 4.1–3) tells us that one of the charges concerned hunting-nets and books said to have been part of Strabo’s spoils from the capture of Asculum in the Social War, but this trivial allegation was probably just a smear in support of the main charges.31 Some scholars have held that M. Aurelius Cotta was convicted in the peculatus court for retaining spoils taken at the capture of Heraclea Pontica in 71, but the evidence hardly supports this conclusion.32 Dio (36.40.4) tells us that, having acquired great riches from Bithynia, Cotta was successfully prosecuted by C. Papirius Carbo, who subsequently suffered the same fate after governing the same province: this suggests repetundae convictions for both offenders. Memnon, Heraclea’s local historian (FGrHist 434 F39), tells us that Cotta faced resentment on his return to Rome because he was believed to have destroyed Heraclea for his own gain and to have returned only a small part of the spoils to the treasury, and that, following protests to the popular assembly about his harsh treatment of the city, measures were passed for the citizens’ reinstatement. However, Memnon’s evidence leaves the relevance of Cotta’s conduct at Heraclea to his trial unclear. Carbo may just have used the hostility it had aroused to help secure his conviction for extortion. The absence of a legal ban on commanders retaining spoils for their own use did not, however, mean that such practice was always regarded as acceptable. In the early second century Cato denounced such profiteering, doubtless capitalizing on public 30 Modestinus, Dig. 48.13.15: is qui praedam ab hostibus captam subripuit lege peculatus tenetur. 31 On this trial see Shatzman (1972) 194–195; Gnoli (1979) 80–93; Hillman (1999). 32 So rightly Shatzman (1972) 196–197; cf. Sherwin-White (1984) 253. For peculatus as the charge see especially Linderski (1987/1995); Rosenstein (2011) 152.

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resentment at those who exploited the opportunities opened up by recent Roman success. In his speech ‘That spoils should be handed in to the public’ (Uti praeda in publicum referatur) Cato deplored those who kept statues of the gods in their homes as furniture (fr. 98 Malc.), and in another, ‘That spoils should be divided to soldiers’ (De praeda militibus diuidenda), he denounced elite members profiting from spoils as ‘public thieves in gold and purple’ (fr. 224: fures publici in auro atque in purpura). In yet another speech, ‘On his expenditure’ (De sumptu suo), Cato boasted of his own exemplary conduct as a commander, declaring that ‘I have never divided spoils or what was taken from the enemy or manubiae among a few friends of mine, to snatch it from those who captured it’ (fr. 173: numquam ego praedam neque quod a hostibus captum esset neque manubias inter pauculos amicos meos diuisi, ut illis eriperem qui cepissent). Aemilius Paullus, his son Scipio Aemilianus, and Mummius were later much praised for having conspicuously refrained from taking any personal profit whatever from their great victories over respectively Macedon, Carthage and Corinth, but their abstinence was clearly exceptional.33 The immediate destination of the spoils after a triumph will have been determined by their character. Livy’s indications show that the gold and silver (coin, bullion and crown gold) displayed in the triumph was handed in to the treasury (aerarium), housed in the temple of Saturn, at the end of the parade: his triumphal notices usually speak of such treasure just as being carried in the triumph, but sometimes of its being handed in to the treasury, clearly with no distinction being intended.34 Thus all gold and silver which the commander wished to retain, whether for manubial benefactions or for other purposes, must have been omitted from the triumphal display. There is no reason to suppose that any record will have been submitted of sums retained in this way.35 By contrast, bulkier valuables such as vases or statuary (which will in any case have featured in only a minority of triumphs) could not have been accommodated in the treasury and so must have been taken on to storage elsewhere.36 Comman­ders will have been required to hand in a detailed inventory of such items, as Cicero (2 Verr. 1.57) tells us that Servilius Isauricus did after his Cilician triumph in 74.37 They would then have had continuing responsibility for their disposal, even though those who had ended their command as promagistrates would after their triumph have become private

33 Plb. 18.35; Cic. 2 Verr. 3.9, Off. 2.76–7; Liv. Per. 52; Val. Max. 4.3.13; Front. Str. 4.3.15; Plin. HN 34.36. 34 Phillips (1974) 272; Östenberg (2009) 61–62. Deposition in the aerarium: Liv. 28.9.16, 31.49.2, 34.10.4, 41.28.6; cf. 37.57.12. 35 Liv. 36.36.2 suggests that the Senate did not have access to any record of money retained by commanders as manubiae. Östenberg (2009) 62–63, is wrong to infer from Liv. 39.5.8–9 that a ‘manubial share’ could be deposited in the treasury and later withdrawn: Fulvius Nobilior was merely seeking a treasury grant for his games from the funds which he had deposited. 36 The reference to artworks being carried into the treasury at Liv. 45.39.6 must be merely rhetorical. 37 Coudry (2009b) 56–60; Östenberg (2009) 88–89.

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citizens. Many valuables were probably melted down or sold at auction.38 Scrupulous individuals like Mummius would have ensured that all that were not disposed of in this way were despatched to adorn public buildings in Rome or across the empire, but it would have been easy for others to retain some for themselves or their friends. How much commanders retained from their spoils in the third and second centuries we can only conjecture. Besides artworks, some coin or bullion will certainly have been retained and used later for manubial benefactions, though less than has often been supposed, since, as Orlin has shown (1997, 122–61), votive temples were usually built not with sums held back as manubiae, but from public funds (normally covered by the spoils returned to the treasury by the commander making the vow). Cato’s strictures and the exceptional character of the abstinence shown by Paullus and his like show that it was not uncommon for commanders to retain spoils for themselves and their friends. As we shall see, the main constraint was probably the modest scale of the spoils yielded by many campaigns. Some are likely to have profited substantially from their spoils, for example Ser. Sulpicius Galba from his command in Hispania Ulterior in 151–0, although Appian’s claim (Iber. 60.255) that he retained most of the spoils for himself may be hostile exaggeration. Kay has ingeniously estimated from Polybius’ data on Scipio Aemilianus’ financial resources that his grandfather Scipio Africanus increased his wealth by at least 200 talents (= 1,200,000 denarii) from his various campaigns.39 In the first century it will surely have been normal for commanders to profit themselves from their spoils, and spoils must have formed a substantial component of the huge fortunes amassed from their great commands by Lucullus, Pompey and Caesar.40 Augustus’ instruction in 27 BCE to men who had triumphed to repair Italian roads ‘from manubial money’ (ex manubiali pecunia) implies an expectation that they will have retained such funds.41 V Returns of Spoils, 218–167 BCE We may now turn to the spoils handed in to the treasury and (in the next section) the donatives paid to troops at triumphs, and to the detailed evidence for both categories supplied in Livy’s later books, tabulated at Table 1 (below, pp. 242–243).42

38 Davies (2017) 118–119, who also reports possible record marks on statues and statue bases. 39 Kay (2014) 35–37. 40 For their wealth see Shatzman (1975) 346–356, 378–381, 389–393. 41 Suet. Aug. 30.1; Dio 53.22.1–2; Wardle (2014) 242–243. 42 Most of the evidence is collected by Frank (1933) 80, 127–141. For other tabulations see Harl (1996) 41–43; Becker (2009); Rosenstein (2011) 153–158; Taylor (2020a) 134–137. On the format of Livy’s spoils reports see Phillips (1974); Östenberg (2009) 58–66; Wolters (2008).

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This table is a composite: it lists all the triumphs celebrated in 218–167, including those for which Livy gives no details of spoils or his notices are lost in a lacuna, and it also includes the four non-triumphal returns to the treasury from Spain listed by Livy (B1, 3, 5, 19). To facilitate comparison, the entries are listed by region: first, the triumphs won in Italy, Sicily and Africa during the Second Punic War (A1–5); next, the triumphs and other returns from Spain (B1–19), followed by the triumphs won in northern Italy (C1–12), in Sardinia and Corsica (D1–2), and in the Greek East (E1–10). Some of the table columns require further explanation. Col. 4 gives the commanders’ status at the time they took up their command (consul, praetor or priuatus cum imperio); most were commanding as proconsuls by the time of their return. Col. 5 indicates the type of triumph celebrated, distinguishing between standard triumphs (Tr), naval triumphs (Nav), Alban Mount triumphs (AM), and ovations (Ov). Cols. 7–15 set out Livy’s quantitative evidence for spoils handed into the treasury and donatives paid at triumphs. Cols. 8 and 9 present Livy’s totals for silver and gold bullion in Roman pounds, and Col. 10 gives his figures for coin, with other currencies converted to denarii. Col. 11 presents the total value of the bullion and coin in denarii, reckoning a pound of silver as 84 denarii and the gold to silver rate as 10:1.43 Col. 12 gives Livy’s totals for gold crowns carried in triumphs as gifts from defeated or allied communities: since he does not normally specify their weight, their value cannot be calculated.44 The donative columns are discussed in the next section. Livy reports the Second Punic War triumphs very selectively: he does not mention Fabius Maximus’ triumph over Tarentum, and does not include quantitative details of bullion or coin in his account of Marcellus’ triumph over Syracuse (26.21.7–10).45 He does give a few details of this kind for the other triumphs of the war (A3–5, B1), but may well omit some items. For the early second century triumphs, Livy’s notices are fuller and more formulaic. Where his text is extant, he gives reports for all celebrations except Q. Fabius Labeo’s naval triumph (E5), and all these notices include at least some details of silver and gold bullion and coin (or their absence).46 However, not all these items appear each time, and omissions may sometimes reflect Livy’s choice rather than the evidence.

43 44

For these ratios see Crawford (1974) 594–595, 626 n. 1; Rosenstein (2011) 158. On these crowns, attested for both eastern and (from 184) western triumphs, see Coudry (2009a); Östenberg (2009) 110–127. Liv. 39.5.14, 7.1 may report crowns in pounds, but the reading is uncertain: Coudry (2009a) 168 n. 74; Briscoe (2008) 223, 227. The assumption of one pound as an average weight for the crowns (so Frank (1933) 138; Taylor (2020a) 137) is arbitrary and probably too low. 45 Fabius’ triumph over Tarentum is attested by his elogium (Degrassi 1937, no. 80) and by Plutarch (Fab. 23.2, 29.1). He is said to have realized 3000 talents (= 18,000,000 denarii) from the sale of the prisoners (Plut. Fab. 22.6). 46 Livy alludes to Fabius Labeo’s triumph elsewhere (37.59.6; 38.47.5), and the notice in the Fasti Triumphales is also extant (Degrassi 1947, 80–81, 554).

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Livy’s quantitative data for bullion and coin returned and donatives paid are probably broadly reliable overall, despite the doubts which have sometimes been expressed.47 His information must ultimately derive from the detailed records submitted to the quaestors of the aerarium by returning commanders and then retained there.48 His immediate source was probably the early first century historian Valerius Antias, who seems to have conducted his own research in the archives. Antias combined such research with an exuberant flair for invention, but he would have had no reason to distort these largely routine details.49 Livy’s individual figures do, however, present various problems. Numbers are particularly vulnerable to textual corruption, and at several points Livy’s text is uncertain or irrecoverable: I have accordingly recorded queries against several entries and their associated overall totals.50 Our text of Livy’s Books 41–45 depends on a single manuscript, of which a number of leaves are lost. As a result, Livy’s notices for the four triumphs celebrated in 175 (B17, C11–12, D1) and all but the final part of his report of Paullus’ triumph over Perseus (E8) are lost in lacunae. While Livy’s figures for gold are usually in precise numbers, most of those for silver bullion and coin are given just in thousands (and occasionally just in tens of thousands). In many cases this is likely to result from omission of smaller figures by Livy or his source, a natural practice since all the figures are written out in words. We should therefore allow for a significant amount of undercounting in the overall totals. Further problems are posed by Livy’s specification of coin denominations in these notices. Livy reports the coin spoils from northern Italy and Spain mostly in Roman denominations, chiefly denarii (usually designated as bigati).51 This may appear surprising, since hoard evidence confirms the presence of Roman coinage in these regions from the Hannibalic War on, but not in quantities sufficient to account for its

47 48 49

50 51

For doubts see especially Beard (2007) 167–173. Their variation shows that Livy’s triumphal data are not conventionally stylized, like so many figures given by ancient sources (Scheidel, 1996). Coudry (2009b) 56–62; above, at n. 37. Details of commanders’ spoils were also sometimes put on public display, as on Duilius’ rostral column (ILLRP 319). On Antias’ research and invention see Rich (2005); (2013) 1.298–304. I am not convinced by the contrary arguments now offered by Richardson (2018). Livy will have drawn on the same source for both his notices of M. Fulvius Nobilior’s ovation (36.21.10–11, 39.1–2), with the duplication produced by switching between eastern and domestic material, the former from Polybius (see Rich, 2011, 4–7). Uncertain bullion figures: A5, B3. Irrecoverable bullion figures: B14, 18; E10. On textual issues relating to Livy’s notices in Books 31–45 see the commentaries and Teubner edition of Briscoe (1973–2012), whose readings I have followed. Asses also figure for the early Cisalpine Gaul triumphs (C1–4), and victoriati (= ¾ denarius) for C. Claudius Pulcher’s triumph in 177 (C10; cf. Crawford (1974) 628–629). Sestertii figure anachronistically in two notices (A1, B19; see below, n. 58). The coin at Anicius’ Illyrian triumph in 167 (E10) is reported as in denarii and ‘Illyrian silver’: I reckon the latter as equivalent to victoriati, following Frank (1933) 137; Rosenstein (2011) 157; but see Müller (2009a) 449–450.

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prominence in the spoils.52 However, much of the Roman coinage in these comman­ ders’ spoils may have been supplied by traders purchasing captives. Livy’s reports for four triumphs celebrated from Hispania Citerior between 195 and 180 (B6–8, 14), include argentum oscense.53 This term must refer to the denarii issued by native Iberian mints, especially Bolskan, later Osca (modern Huesca), and I have accordingly reckoned these figures as equivalent to denarii. Some scholars accept the reports as accurate,54 but most now hold that the Iberian denarii only began to be minted later in the second century.55 If this is correct, Livy’s references to argentum oscense may be the result of anachronistic renaming (presumably by his source) of an earlier currency, perhaps the local imitations of Emporitan drachmae produced in late third and early second century Spain.56 Livy’s reports of triumphal coin spoils won in Greece and Asia (E1–4, 6–7) are in eastern denominations, namely cistophori, Attic tetradrachms and gold Philips, which may be reckoned as respectively 3, 4 and 24 denarii.57 The cistophoric coinage was produced in large quantities by mints of Rome’s ally Pergamum, but the date of its inception is disputed: some scholars hold that it was already being issued by the 190s, but others favour datings later in the second century. If the latter view is correct, the references to cistophori may be another anachronistic renaming of another coinage.58 For two triumphs other sources give some figures corresponding to Livy’s, with discrepancies readily explicable through copying errors, namely Plutarch for Flami­ ninus’ triumph (Flam. 14.2: gold and silver bullion, Philips) and Pliny for L. Scipio’s (HN 33.148: gold and silver vases). The most significant discrepancy concerns Flami­ ninus’ silver bullion, given by Livy as 18,270 and by Plutarch as 43,270 lbs, clearly through scribal confusion between xv and xl. Plutarch’s figures may well be correct, and, if so, the total value of Flamininus’ bullion and coin should be amended to 7,437,936 denarii. Plutarch cites his source, but unfortunately the reading of the manuscripts is corrupt (τὸν ἰτανὸν or τουιτανὸν). The name Tuditanus is palaeographically easier to restore,

52

53 54 55 56 57 58

Cf. Crawford (1985) 76–81, 86–90, 294–300; Burnett & Molinari (2015) 90–1. For the possibility that the Capitoline hoard (Crawford, 1969, no. 60), containing both Roman and Po valley issues, is a votive deposit from the triumphal spoils of L. Furius Purpureo (C1) see Burnett & Molinari (2015) 31–32. Liv. 34.10.4, 7; 34.46.2; 40.43.6. Helvius had commanded in Ulterior, but his victory occurred on his return through Citerior (Liv. 34.10.1–2). Thus Knapp (1977), (1987) 22–24, Cadiou (2008) 525–528. So e. g. Crawford (1985) 91–97; López Sánchez (2007; 2010); Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume. So e. g. Gozalbes (2009) 85; Gozalbes & Torregrosa (2014) 289. See also García Riaza (2009); Östenberg (2009) 71–74. See Briscoe (1981) 129–130; Rosenstein (2011) 158; Taylor (2020a) 137. Livy’s claim (34.52.6) that the tetradrachm equated to three denarii must be mistaken. Early dating: Harl (1991); Ashton (2013). Later datings: Meadows (2013); De Callataÿ (2013). See also Östenberg (2009) 74–76.

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but, since Plutarch nowhere else cites this obscure second-century writer, it is more likely that Antias should be restored as his source.59 Paullus’ triumph, whose spoils included the Macedonian royal treasure, was by far the richest of our period, and here other sources provide us with fuller information. Livy’s detailed account, including his breakdown for bullion and coin, is lost, but in the surviving final section (45.40.1) he tells us that Antias stated the value of all the silver and gold carried in the triumph as 120,000,000 sesterces (= 30,000,000 denarii) and comments that Antias’ own figures for the number of wagons and weight of gold and silver imply a higher total.60 Higher overall totals, again reckoned anachronistically in sesterces, are given by Velleius (1.9.6: HS 210,000,000) and Pliny (HN. 33.56: HS 300,000,000). The true total must certainly have been higher than the one Livy found in his text of Antias, since Polybius (18.35.4) reports that Paullus found over 6000 talents (= 36,000,000 denarii) of gold and silver in the royal treasury. The detailed and broadly similar accounts of the triumph given by Diodorus (31.8, from Syncellus) and Plutarch (Aem. 32–33) must derive from Polybius. Diodorus’ figures for the displayed gold (240 talents), silver bullion (2200 talents) and coin (1000 talents) equate to 5600 silver talents (= 33,600,000 denarii).61 The overall (converted) value of the returns of bullion and coin reported by Livy for the years 200–167, as shown in column 11 of Table 1, totals 89,389,403 denarii. This represents returns by 31 commanders. No value could be included in this column for the other eleven returns listed (B14, 17, 18; C9, 11, 12; D1, 2; E5, 8, 10) because Livy’s reports are lost, corrupt or incomplete. None of these returns is likely to have been very large, apart from Paullus’. The overall value of the bullion and coin brought in by these 42 commanders may thus be estimated at around 130 million denarii.62 However, the total sum contributed to the treasury by returning commanders over these years must have been substantially higher, for two reasons: significant sums must have been realized for the treasury from crown gold and from the melting down or sale of other spoils, and further commanders who did not triumph will also have brought in spoils to the treasury.

59 60

61 62

So Cichorius (1902) 591–593, reading τὸν Ἀντίαν. See FRHist Tuditanus 10 F9 = Antias 25 F71, with commentary marginally preferring Tuditanus. Sestertii were not used as a unit of reckoning until c. 141 (Crawford 1974, 621–5). Liv. 45.43.8 cites Antias for the certainly exaggerated claim that 20 million sesterces was realized from Anicius’ spoils in 167 in addition to the gold and silver handed in to the treasury, and Livy’s statement (45.4.1) that the value of the silver returned to the treasury by M. Marcellus in 168 amounted to 1 million sesterces also probably derives from Antias. On these and other passages anachronistically giving sums in sesterces in which Livy was certainly or probably following Antias see Crawford (1974) 631; Briscoe (2008) 195. On these data see further De Sanctis (1923) 351 n. 302; Walbank (1967) 595; Müller (2009a) 444– 448 (misreporting Diodorus); Briscoe (2012) 747–748; Rich (2013) 3.365; Taylor (2020a) 137. For similar estimates see Frank (1933) 138; Taylor (2020a) 124–125.

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Livy’s own reports illustrate the extent of the spoils other than bullion and coin whose value could be realized for the treasury. For triumphs between 194 and 180 he reports a total of 1200 gold crowns, while Scipio Nasica’s Gallic spoils in 191 included 1471 gold torcs (36.40.12).63 Livy’s notices of the spoils in Spanish triumphs are generally limited to bullion, coin and crowns. He gives some further details for Gallic triumphs, but saves his fullest treatment for the triumphs won by consular commanders in the East, whose displays must have been by far the richest of the time (Flamininus’ and Paullus’ parades both required three days). Livy’s accounts of these triumphs and those of Diodorus and Plutarch for Paullus’ triumph give lavish details of the statuary, plate and other valuables displayed, much of which must have been subsequently disposed of for the profit of the treasury.64 Livy gives reports of bullion, and in some cases also coin, returned to the treasury by four commanders who returned from Spain without any form of triumph, namely three of the early commanders appointed as privati (B1, 3, 5), and, in an oddly isolated notice, M. Marcellus in 168 (B19). A number of other commanders in this period must have made such returns, but been overlooked by Livy or his source. Several likely cases may be detected from Livy’s reports of commanders winning victories, but being denied or apparently not claiming triumphs.65 Not all the wealth paraded by commanders at their triumphs had been won directly from defeated enemies. Many of the crowns had been presented by allies, and some commanders (notably Manlius Vulso on his way to Galatia) had received payments to spare potential opponents from attack.66 These gains could all be attributed to commanders’ victorious campaigns, but other forms of revenue seem to have been accounted for separately and not included in triumphal displays, as is shown by Livy’s report of L. Manlius Acidinus’ return from Hispania Citerior in 185 (39.29.6–7): in addition to the crowns and bullion carried in his ovation, Manlius announced in the Senate that his quaestor had brought back a further 10,000 pounds of silver and 80 pounds of gold, and that this too would be handed into the treasury. The Romans’ treaties with Carthage, Philip V, Nabis of Sparta, Antiochus III and the Aetolians included provisions for indemnities, some very substantial, payable annually for stated periods. Initial payments under these indemnities will have been

63 On Gallic torcs as spoils see Östenberg (2009) 108–111. 64 Reports of wrought gold, silver or bronze do not indicate weight except for L. Scipio’s triumph (Liv. 37.59.5; Plin. HN 33.148). 65 Triumphs refused: L. Cornelius Merula (northern Italy, returning 193), Q. Minucius Thermus (Liguria, 190), M. Popillius Laenas (Liguria, 173). No claim reported: C. Cornelius Cethegus (Spain, 199); L. Furius Purpureo (Cisalpine Gaul, 196); P. Cornelius Scipio Nasica (Hispania Ulterior, 193); L. Aemilius Paullus (Hispania Ulterior, 189); C. Baebius Tamphilus (Liguria, 182). These cases are listed (with references) at Pittenger (2008) 300–302, except for Scipio Nasica; for his successes and manubiae see Liv. 35.1.3–12, 36.36.1–2. 66 See further Östenberg (2009) 76–77.

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brought back by the victorious commanders, and scholars have assumed that their returns of triumphal spoils included these payments.67 This is plausible, especially since the very high returns reported by Livy for L. Scipio and Manlius Vulso seem otherwise hard to explain. If so, and if the initial payments were included in full in their returns, the indemnity elements of the respective commanders’ returns may be calculated as follows: P. Scipio (A5), 200 talents (= 1,340,000 denarii); Flamininus (E1), 730 talents (= 4,905,600 denarii); L. Scipio (E4), 500 talents (3,360,000 denarii); Fulvius Nobilior (E6), 350 talents (= 2,352,000 denarii); Manlius Vulso (E7), 2800 talents (=  17,472,000  denarii).68 However, these payments may have been omitted from at least some of the commanders’ triumphal returns: the relatively modest sum reported for Flamininus can hardly have included all the indemnity payments he brought back, and their exclusion is implied by the separate mention of the indemnity in Plutarch’s account of his triumph (Flam. 14.3). In any case, before returning to Rome, commanders may have diverted some of the indemnity payments for other uses. One such use may have been troops’ pay, specified by Polybius (23.14.7) as the purpose of Antiochus’ initial payment to L. Scipio, and this may have been part of what was at stake in the charges later brought against him and his brother. Livy’s quantitative data strikingly illustrate the huge variation in the profitability of the Romans’ wars in this period, particularly between the chief theatres of war. The richest rewards were won in the early second century wars in the Greek East. The overall value of the bullion and coin returned for the six eastern triumphs for which calculation is possible (E1–4, 6–7) is 54,864,866 denarii. If Paullus’ and the remaining triumphs are included, the total yield may be estimated at around 90 million denarii. As noted above, indemnity payments may have provided a significant share of this total, but substantial further sums are likely to have been realized for the treasury by the melting down or sale of other spoils carried in the parade. The subordinate praetorian commanders won at most only modest sums, but the six consular commanders who triumphed from the East brought in huge wealth for the treasury, above all L. Scipio and Manlius Vulso through their campaigns against Antiochus and his allies in Anatolia and Paullus through his conquest of Macedonia and sack of Epirus. Most early second century consuls were assigned to commands in northern Italy. Warfare there yielded twelve triumphs in the first quarter of the century, but the returns for the treasury were meagre. Livy specifies the amount brought in for nine of these: the total comes to a mere 1,660,167 denarii, and the other three can have added

67 68

So Frank (1933) 136–138; Östenberg (2009) 76; Taylor (2020a) 124. See the tabulations of Kay (2014) 39; Taylor (2020a) 125, 136. The totals also include one-off payments by Boeotia, Ambracia, and Ariarathes of Cappadocia. I here reckon 1 silver talent as equivalent to 80 Roman pounds, as was stipulated in Antiochus’ treaty (Plb. 21.43.19; Liv. 38.38.13), and so to 6720 denarii. Elsewhere 1 talent may be reckoned as a unit of account equating to 6000 denarii. See further Harl (1991) 291; Taylor (2020a) 112.

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little more. In the 190s campaigning was mainly against the Gallic tribes of the Po valley region, culminating in Scipio Nasica’s conquest of the Boii. Nasica confiscated the best half of their land and brought in the most spoils (he is the only commander from this region for whom Livy specifies bullion), but the value of even his return of bullion and coin amounts only to 638,040 denarii. Subsequent military activity was mainly in Liguria, but the three triumphs won in 181–180 (two uniquely without fighting) brought in no spoils for the treasury, and later commanders probably did little better from this poor region. There was little glory either to be won from Liguria: Cicero was later to refer scornfully to ‘those who stormed Ligurians’ forts: from which … there are many triumphs’ (Brut. 255: illi, qui Ligurum castella expugnauerunt: ex quibus multi sunt … triumphi). P. Scipio (father of the future Africanus) in 218 and Cato in 195 were the only consuls despatched to Spain in our period, but the region saw almost continuous warfare, with Roman forces commanded by priuati cum imperio from 210 to 198 and thereafter by praetors. Although the rewards seldom matched those which could be won in the East, these wars nonetheless appear to have been often highly lucrative. Totals of bullion and coin can be calculated for fifteen of the nineteen commanders’ returns from Spain reported by Livy for the years 200–167, yielding an overall value of 32,864,370 denarii. The higher profitability of the warfare in Spain to that in northern Italy must reflect the greater wealth of the Spanish communities and the mineral resources of the region, and it is not surprising that commanders who had conducted major campaigns there should have brought in substantial amounts of spoils, like Cato in 194 and Gracchus and Postumius Albinus in 178. However, some commanders for whom Livy has little or no activity to record won – if the notices are accurate – strikingly large sums for the treasury, in particular the early commanders between Scipio’s departure in 206 and Cato’s arrival in 195.69 Livy’s six returns for these commanders yield a total of 18,034,450 denarii, with particularly impressive results for L. Cornelius Lentulus (5,670,000 denarii) and L. Stertinius (50,000 lbs of silver = 4,200,000 denarii). Remarkably, the total value of Livy’s return for Lentulus exceeds what he reports for Flamininus. Frank (1933, 138, 154–5) provided a conjectural explanation for these high early returns from Spain: on his view the Spanish returns included mine revenue down to 178, after which he held that the operation of the mines was taken over by the publicani. There is no evidence for this hypothesis, and it has been generally and rightly rejected.70 Livy’s returns are too patchy to fit this explanation, and, as we have seen, probably included just revenue directly acquired by victory. In any case, it is unlikely that the Spanish mines were being exploited on a significant scale so early in the Roman con69 On these commands see Richardson (1986) 64–79; Vervaet & Ñaco del Hoyo (2007). 70 Brunt (1965) 139; Badian (1972) 32; Richardson (1976) 140–141; Domergue (1990) 245; Rowan (2013) 362–366; Kay (2014) 51; Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume.

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quest, and Livy’s returns include substantial amounts of gold, which cannot have been mined under Roman control, since the major gold mines of Spain were in the northwest, only conquered under Augustus. Livy tells us that Lentulus and his colleague L. Manlius Acidinus decisively suppressed the revolt of the Ilergetes and Ausetani in 205 (29.1.19–3.5), and he reports extensive warfare in both Spanish provinces from 197 on. However, he mentions no fighting in Spain in 204–198 apart from a victory in 200 for C. Cornelius Cethegus (31.49.7), from whom we hear of no request for a triumph. The ovations, further triumphal requests, and very substantial spoils reported suggest that much more successful warfare must have been conducted than Livy’s meagre record implies. Nonetheless, these reports of very large amounts of spoils for obscure Spanish campaigns remain a puzzle. VI Donatives For 22 of the triumphs and ovations celebrated in 218–167 Livy reports the payment of donatives to the participating troops, as shown in the final three columns of Table 1.71 The payments are often explicitly described as ‘from spoils’ (ex/de praeda). Livy’s earlier notices are expressed in asses, but those from L. Scipio’s triumph in 189 on in denarii (with two exceptions: C6, 9): in the table, all the figures are in denarii. As for their pay (Plb. 6.39.12), centurions normally received twice and cavalry (equites) three times as much as infantry (pedites).72 In Octavius’ naval triumph in 167, a comparable differentiation was applied, with helmsmen receiving twice and ships’ captains three times as much as sailors (Liv. 45.42.3). This too will have been standard practice, followed for Anicius’ triumph in the same year, in which payments were made to both soldiers and sailors (Liv. 45.43.7). The donative payments must have been accounted separately and not included in the totals for bullion and cash carried in the triumph, as is shown by the two cases where donatives were paid but hardly any spoils returned to the treasury (C6, 9).73 The payments were probably made at the same time as the conferment of military dec-

71

On these donatives see Brunt (1971) 393–394; Coudry (2009b) 32–37; Östenberg (2009) 63–66; Taylor (2020a) 118–119, 134. 72 Correlation with pay rates: Taylor (2020a) 208 n. 13. The anomalous ratios reported at Liv. 10.46.15; 33.23.7, 37.12; 34.46.3 (C2–4, B8) may be due to scribal error or selective reporting by Livy or his source (but see Briscoe (1973) 293; (1981) 122; Oakley (2005) 456). Paullus doubtless followed the standard differentiation in 167, like his subordinates Octavius and Anicius, and the text of Liv. 45.40.5 should accordingly be restored as duplex equiti as in the editio princeps (though see Briscoe (2012) 749). 73 So rightly Coudry (2009b) 32–33; Östenberg (2009) 63–64; Taylor (2020a) 125, 213 (correcting his earlier view at Taylor 2017, 154, 176).

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orations, at the troops’ final assembly in the Circus Flaminius, before their triumphal entry into the city, as Livy may imply for Fulvius Nobilior’s Aetolian triumph in 187 (39.5.17). Those who were triumphing as promagistrates (which in this period included all those who had commanded overseas) were obliged to discharge their troops on the day of their triumph, after which their imperium lapsed. The two consuls of 180 who won Ligurian triumphs without fighting or spoils were unable to pay donatives (Liv. 40.38.9). Except for this anomalous case, we may assume that all commanders in this period who brought troops home paid a donative. Several of the commanders for whom no donative is reported are known to have handed their forces on to a successor and triumphed without accompanying troops.74 The same was probably true in most other cases where Livy gives a triumphal report without mentioning a donative. However, Calpurnius and Quinctius who triumphed from Spain in 184 had been instructed to bring back time-expired troops (Liv. 39.38.12): here the omission of a donative is probably an oversight by Livy or his source. In some cases where Livy does mention a donative, the commander had been required to pass on most of his forces to his successor, and the donative will have been paid only to the troops he had been permitted to bring home for his triumph and discharge. This was certainly the case for Q. Fulvius Flaccus on his return from Hispania Citerior in 180, for whom this arrangement was a compromise when his request to bring all his army home was rejected, and probably also for L. Scipio, who handed over his army to Manlius Vulso before returning for his triumph over Antiochus in 189.75 Paying triumphal donatives meant that the troops received a share in the spoils twice over, first when it was collected in the field (above, section 2), and secondly on return to Rome. This cannot have been the practice in early Rome, when campaigns were short and near the city, and so must have developed later, as campaigning took place more remotely and service lengthened, and perhaps began during the Third Samnite War, when Livy reports donatives being paid at their triumphs by Q. Fabius Rullianus in 295 and Sp. Carvilius in 293.76 At that time such payments may have been optional, and Livy claims that Carvilius’ colleague L. Papirius Cursor incurred resentment by handing all his spoils in to the treasury.77 Although the loss of Livy’s second

74 75

76 77

So Marcellus in 211 (Liv. 26.21.2–6), Furius Purpureo in 200 (31.49.3), Glabrio in 191 (37.46.6), Manlius Acidinus in 185 (39.29.5). Flaccus: Liv. 40.35.3–36.11, 43.5–7. Scipio’s donative (Liv. 37.59.6) is unnecessarily doubted by ­Briscoe (1981) 394. Manlius had been given a generous supplementum to take out for the war against Antiochus (Liv. 37.50.3), and, since Scipio had finished the war by the time he arrived, Manlius could readily have released troops to escort Scipio home. Liv. 10.30.10, 46.15; Oakley (2005) 334, 456. Liv. 10.46.5–6. As Oakley notes (2005, 444–5), Livy’s reports of the triumphs of 293 are the first to give the fuller details familiar from his later books.

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decade prevents us from tracing the development, the payment of donatives may have become a standard feature of triumphs during the First Punic War.78 Livy reports that at four triumphs in 180, 178 and 167 (B14–16, E10) the Italian allied troops received donatives at the same rate as the citizens, and that C. Claudius Pulcher in 177 (C10) earned their resentment by giving them only half the citizens’ donative. The allies may have regularly shared in donative payments, with Livy or his source opting to omit this detail in other reports.79 Donative rates generally showed some correlation with the wars’ overall profitability. Infantry at the triumphs from Cisalpine Gaul in the 190s received very modest payments from 7 to 12.5 denarii, although in some cases (e. g. C2–3) the sum spent on donatives may have come close to or even exceeded what was brought in to the treasury. Those serving in the more lucrative wars elsewhere usually did better, although a much higher proportion of the spoils went to the treasury. Veterans of the wars against Antiochus and Perseus were the best rewarded. Besides generous triumphal donatives, those serving against Antiochus received double pay from L. Scipio after his victory and the same again when they returned to Rome, whether under Scipio or under his successor Manlius Vulso.80 Despite their complaints at his stinginess, those serving under Aemilius Paullus received substantial payouts after his sack of Epirus (see n. 18) and final donatives of 100 denarii. Two commanders in 181–179 seem to have been exceptionally keen to win their veterans’ favour: Paullus in 181 (despite his later austerity) and Q. Fulvius Flaccus in 179 each gave their infantry 30-denarii donatives after their consular campaigns in Liguria, although bringing in hardly any spoils to the treasury. Fulvius had triumphed on the same day in 180 from his praetorian command in Spain, and had been elected to the consulship (no doubt with the support of his troops) while still waiting outside the city for his triumph. The infantry he had secured permission to bring back received not only a 50-denarii donative, much the highest reported from Spain, but also double pay.81 The cost of a donative of 25 denarii per infantryman for an army of two legions at a nominal strength of 5,500 each would have been 308,000 denarii. However, there are too many imponderables to permit confident calculation of the amounts actually paid out: we can, for example, only guess at the numbers actually surviving and brought home for triumphs or the extent of allied troops’ participation in the donatives. A con-

78 79 80 81

Contra Coudry (2009b) 36, who supposes that donatives only became regular at triumphs at the end of the Second Punic War. Allied soldiers shared in the decorations issued by Fulvius Nobilior in 187 (Liv. 39.5.17). See further Fronda in this volume. Liv. 37.59.6; 39.7.2. Double pay (stipendium duplex) presumably means a year’s extra pay (108 denarii for an infantryman: n. 87). Liv. 40.43.7, 59.3.

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jecture of around 15 million denarii may serve as a very rough estimate of the total amount of spoils paid out in donatives at triumphs in this period.82 VII War Costs and Spoils The extent to which spoils brought into the treasury by returning commanders in this period served to reimburse its war expenditure has been re-examined in notable recent studies. Taylor (2020a, 111–38) offers a revision of the estimated balance sheet for 200–157 proposed in the classic treatment by Frank (1933, 145–6), and, like Frank, concludes that war costs for the period, which he estimates at 415 million denarii, vastly exceeded the treasury’s revenue from spoils, which, after discounting indemnity payments, he calculates at 135 million denarii.83 A good deal of the war costs must have been met directly, for example with tax grain or by local exactions, and Rosenstein (2011, 2016) accordingly argues attractively that legionary pay (the single largest cost, and the only one for which we have any firm evidence) may be taken ‘as a rough proxy for the cost of Rome’s wars’.84 He calculates that over 50 percent even of the victorious campaigns in 200–167 for which Livy gives reports did not bring enough spoils into the treasury to cover the legionaries’ pay, and estimates the total cost of legionary pay over those years as exceeding revenue from spoils by 44.5 million denarii.85 Estimates of overall Roman war costs are necessarily highly speculative.86 Calculations of the pay costs too are not without problems even for individual campaigns: for example, those offered by Rosenstein are based on individual commanders’ tenures, but many of them had taken over their armies from predecessors. Nonetheless, these writers’ overall conclusions on the extent to which revenue from spoils could cover war costs are clearly well founded. Afzelius and Brunt have calculated the numbers of legions in service in each year from 200 to 167 from Livy’s reports of legionary deployments. On Brunt’s tabulation, a total of 292 legion-years was served over this period.87 Taylor plausibly estimates the 82

On troop numbers see next section. Harl (1996, 43) gives precise estimates for the individual donatives, yielding a total of 13,271,000 denarii. He gives no details on his calculations, and oddly attributes a donative to L. Furius Purpureo in 200. See also Taylor (2020a) 118–119. 83 See also Kay (2014) 298–300. 84 Rosenstein (2016a) 119. Allied troops were paid by their own communities, with the Roman state providing only their rations. 85 Rosenstein (2011) 145–146, 153–158; (2016a) 120–126. See also Müller (2009a) on the spoils and costs of the Third Macedonian War. 86 For a negative view of the possibility of reconstructing Roman war finances in this period see Bleckmann (2016). 87 Afzelius (1944) 34–47; Brunt (1971) 422–424. Brunt holds that only two legions were in service in Spain from 178, but otherwise accepts Afzelius’ conclusions. Brunt’s total for 190 should be reduced from thirteen to eleven legions, since no legions were deployed in Aetolia in that year (so

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average annual pay of a legion over this period as 665,280 denarii.88 On this basis, the overall legionary pay cost for these years was approximately 195 million denarii. As shown above, the total brought into the treasury in bullion and coin by the 42 commanders for whom Livy included reports is likely to have been around 130 million denarii, and, although the full yield from all spoils for the treasury in this period was probably substantially higher, a significant part of this total may have come from early indemnity payments. Thus the returns from spoils alone fell well short of the pay costs. The extent to which the Romans’ early second century wars paid their way varied hugely between the different sectors. The great wars in the Greek East lasted for just fourteen years overall, with just eleven consuls being deployed to the commands. In three of these years four legions were deployed (189,188, 168), but for the rest a single two-legion army sufficed. On Taylor’s assumptions, the total legionary pay cost of these wars was thus 22.6 million denarii (34 legion-years). The vast sums brought into the treasury as spoils from these wars, estimated above at some 90 million denarii in bullion and coin alone, will thus have greatly exceeded not only the pay but all the other costs of these wars. Moreover, the wars brought the treasury even greater long-term profits through the indemnities paid by Philip and Antiochus and their associates. A good deal of the initial payments may have been included in the commanders’ spoils, but much more was to follow in annual payments. Over the years 196–178 indemnity payments from these wars totalled 17,280 talents. The greater part (15,000 talents) came from Antiochus, transforming the state’s financial position and making possible the grand building projects of the 180s and 170s.89 The warfare in northern Italy involved a much heavier commitment. At least one consul was deployed there in every year from 200 to 167 except for 189. In 22 of these years both consuls were deployed there, and other commanders were often posted or retained there as well. At least two legions were stationed in the region every year, and often four or more were deployed. The total pay cost may be calculated at 86.5 million denarii (130 legion-years). Yet the total value of all the spoils brought into the treasury both by those who triumphed and by other commanders from this region can hardly have reached 2 million denarii. The campaigns brought other benefits: security from the old menace of the Gauls, land for distribution, opportunities for triumphs. However, not even the most successful campaign, by Scipio Nasica in 191, covered its pay costs, and overall the wars were fought at a huge loss, with their costs having to be met in the traditional way, from the tributum paid by Roman citizens.

88 89

rightly Brunt (1971) 658, overlooked in his table). A few of the totals seem questionable, e. g. the high number of urban legions for 171–168. On the overall reliability of Livy’s data on legions see Brunt (1971) 645–665, and on the legions in Spain see also Cadiou (2008) 95–109. Taylor (2020a) 112–113. Taylor reckons a legionary’s pay as 3 asses per day (cf. Crawford 1985, 147; Rathbone 1993, 151–152), and so as 108 denarii per year, and follows Afzelius and Brunt in assuming an average legion strength of 5,500. On the indemnities see Müller (2009b); Kay (2014) 37–42. Building projects: Kay (2014) 301–303.

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Garrisoning Spain was also a heavy and protracted commitment, if less burdensome than northern Italy. At least two legions were maintained there in every year except 197, when an unsuccessful experiment of deploying only allied troops was tried.90 In a number of years the deployment was raised to four legions (195 and probably 187–179). Here the spoils brought in to the treasury may have come much closer to covering costs. Almost all Livy’s returns from Spain for which an overall total may be calculated relate to commanders serving there and returning in the years 205–178. These returns total 32,605,970 denarii, and to this we should add the successful triumph of Fulvius Flaccus (B14) and returns from other commanders who did not triumph, which may have brought the overall total to 35–40 million denarii, while legionary pay for those years may be reckoned at 49 million denarii (74 legion- years). As we saw above, if Livy’s data are to be trusted, the early commands were by far the most lucrative: the 18 million denarii brought in to the treasury by those who held command in Spain in 205–196 amounted to over three times their pay costs. VIII Conclusion Livy’s triumphal reports provide precious evidence for the spoils brought back by Roman commanders, particularly for the years 200–167 BCE, but even there, full allowance must be made for the record’s omissions and errors. Precise totals can be calculated for the bullion and coin reported as brought in to the treasury by 31 commanders in those years, and the overall value of the bullion and coin brought in by the 42 commanders returning in that period who are listed in Table 1 may be estimated at around 130 million denarii. Besides spoils proper, a substantial element in this total may have been provided by initial indemnity payments from defeated eastern powers. However, the full value of the wealth brought into the treasury will have been a good deal higher, since further sums will have been realized by the melting down or sale of other spoils brought by those commanders and more spoils will have been brought in, unreported by Livy, by other commanders who did not triumph. War spoils thus yielded very substantial revenue for the treasury, but it still did not cover the cost of the wars. The huge costs of the Second Punic War will naturally have been vastly in excess of its revenue from spoils. Heavy commitments continued in the following period, with an average of 8.6 legions in service over the years 200–167 and their pay costing some 195 million denarii overall. The legions’ pay alone in those years was thus significantly higher than the treasury’s revenue from spoils, with the overall costs of the wars of course much greater still.

90

Liv. 32.28.11; contra Cadiou (2008) 97–98.

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Livy’s record shows remarkable disparity in the profitability of the three main theatres of war in the early second century. The wars in the East, against kings Philip, Antiochus, Perseus and their allies involved a relatively small commitment, lasting just fourteen years and with an estimated legionary pay cost of some 22.6 million denarii, but the resulting triumphs brought in around 90 million denarii to the treasury in coin and bullion alone, along with substantial additional spoils in other forms. By contrast, the warfare in northern Italy constituted a much heavier commitment with negligible reward for the treasury: two or more legions were deployed there every year, at an estimated overall pay cost of 86.5 million denarii, but the treasury’s total revenue from the spoils of these wars appears to have been under 2 million denarii. In Spain two legionary armies were deployed in almost every year, but the warfare here was much more profitable than in northern Italy and its returns for the treasury fell not far short of the pay costs, while the high rewards won by the obscure commanders in post in the years after Scipio’s departure in 206 are particularly notable. Discussions of the Romans’ war policies in this period should take full account of this striking mismatch between their military commitments and the treasury’s receipts from spoils. Although spoils had always brought in substantial revenue to the treasury, Roman war costs had, ever since it was introduced along with legionary pay, been primarily met by the tributum, the wealth tax (nominally a loan) paid by Roman citizens. This continued into the early second century, but the huge revenue brought into the treasury by the eastern wars, in spoils and continuing indemnity payments, led to new developments. In 187 Manlius Vulso’s spoils were used to repay the outstanding tributum (Liv. 39.6.5), and in the following years Antiochus’ huge indemnity payments made possible a costly programme of public works. From 167 tributum ceased to be collected, to be revived (briefly) only during the civil wars after Caesar’s death. The cessation was initially prompted by Paullus’ acquisition of the Macedonian royal treasure, but what enabled it to become permanent was the evolution of provincial taxation, which thereafter became the treasury’s primary revenue source.91 Much of the spoils remained with individual participants in the campaigns. By this time, it was standard practice that soldiers (if they survived) should benefit twice from the spoils of victorious campaigns, in the field immediately after it had been won and by the donative paid at a triumph. In most cases, however, these rewards are likely to have been modest.92 In the field, commanders generally kept back the most valuable spoils, and the need to disencumber themselves will usually have obliged the soldiers to sell their gains cheap to traders. Donatives from low-yielding campaigns were usually correspondingly small, although a few commanders opted to devote most of their 91 92

Ending of tributum: Cic. Off. 2.76; Plin. HN 33.56; Plut. Aem. 38.1. On the burden of tributum and on the significance of its cessation see now especially Rosenstein (2016b) and in this volume; Tan (2017); France (2021). See further Gauthier in this volume.

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241

proceeds to donatives, leaving little for the treasury. The richest rewards went to those who served in the East. In 171 men were eager to enlist for the war against Perseus ‘because they saw that those who had served in the earlier Macedonian war or against Antiochus in Asia were rich’.93 Their expectations were to be amply fulfilled by Paullus, despite their complaints. Many commanders will have kept back substantial amounts of spoils for themselves, their staff and their friends. This practice was not illegal, as some scholars have claimed, but it did arouse some disapproval and the commanders who won some of the richest second-century victories made a point of scrupulously abstaining from any personal profit. These facts themselves confirm that it was widespread practice for commanders to profit personally from their spoils. The chief restriction on such profits will have been the modest scale of the spoils won from many campaigns, however victorious. The loss of Livy’s later books means that we have only scattered indications of the sums brought in to the treasury or distributed to troops from war spoils after 167.94 The wide disparity between the wealth brought in by a few spectacular triumphs and the modest rewards won by most victorious commands will have continued through the remainder of the second century and the first century. Some triumphs continued to be won in northern Italy, and the profits of these and of many of the wars fought in frontier regions elsewhere are likely to have been relatively small. In the first century the great eastern campaigns of Sulla, Lucullus and Pompey and Caesar’s wars in Gaul yielded huge returns for the treasury and profits on a quite unprecedented scale for individuals. The donative issued to infantry at Lucullus’ triumph was 950, at Pompey’s 1500, and at Caesar’s 5000 denarii. Pompey is said to have shared 25 million denarii between his legati and quaestors.95 Spoils must have formed a large part of the huge fortunes with which these commanders themselves returned from their campaigns. John Rich University of Nottingham [email protected]

93 94 95

Liv. 42.32.6: quia locupletes uidebant qui priore Macedonico bello aut aduersus Antiochum in Asia stipendia fecerant. Much of the evidence is collected by Frank (1933) 230, 324–325, 338–339. Lucullus: Plut. Luc. 37.4–6. Pompey: Plin. HN 37.16; Plut. Pomp. 45; App. Mithr. 116. Caesar: App. BC 2.102.

200 L. Cornelius Lentulus

199 L. Manlius Acidinus

196 Cn. Cornelius Blasio

196 L. Stertinius

195

195

B2

B3

B4

B5

B6

B7

191

182

180 Q. Fulvius Flaccus

178

178

175

B12

B13

B14

B15

B16

B17

174 Ap. Claudius Centho

168 M. Claudius Marcellus

B18

B19

M. Titinius Curvus

L. Postumius Albinus

Ti. Sempronius Gracchus

A. Terentius Varro

184 L. Quinctius Crispinus

B11

L. Manlius Acidinus

185

184 C. Calpurnius Piso

B10

M. Fulvius Nobilior

194 M. Porcius Cato

B8

B9

Q. Minucius Thermus

M. Helvius

206 P. Cornelius Scipio

B1

C. Claudius Nero

A4

201 P. Cornelius Scipio

207 M. Livius Salinator II

A3

A5

209 Q. Fabius Maximus

A2

M. Claudius Marcellus II/III

211

A1

BCE Commander

Tr

Ov

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

pr

Ov

Tr

Tr

Tr

Tr

Ov

Tr

Tr

Ov

Ov

cos Tr

pr

pr

priv

priv Ov

priv

priv Ov

priv

cos Tr

cos Ov?

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos AM, Ov

Spain

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Ulterior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Ulterior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain (Ulterior)

Spain (Ulterior)

Spain (Citerior)

Spain

Spain

Spain

Carthage

Carthage (R. Metaurus)

Tarentum

Syracuse

Enemy/Region

45.4.1

41.28.6

lacuna

41.7.2-3

40.43.6-7

40.16.11

39.42.3-4

39.29.6

36.21.11, 39.2

34.46.2-3

34.10.7

34.10.4

33.27.3

33.27.2

32.7.4

31.20.7

28.38.5

30.45.3

28.9.16-17

Livy

10.000

20.000

40.000

?

9.320

12.000

12.000

16.300

12.000

25.000

34.800

14.732

50.000

20.000

6,000?

43.000

14.342

10

?

31

82

132

127

1400

1515

30

2450

lbs

lbs

123,000?

Gold

Silver

Table 1. Triumphs, spoils and donatives, 218–167 BCE

250.000

173.200

130.000

663.000

351.000

136.462

34.500

‘great ­number’

758,000

den.

Coin

758.000

258.400

?

1.680.000

3.360.000

?

851.760

1.008.000

1.008.000

1.480.080

1.244.680

3.939.000

3.274.200

1.373.950

4.200.000

2.987.100

529,200?

5.670.000

?

10,332,000?

den.

Total

52

124

67

83

83

25

25

50

27

12

40

5,6

50

50

100

75

75

150

81

ped. cent. eq.

Crowns Donatives (den.)

242 John Rich

197 C. Cornelius Cethegus

197 Q. Minucius Rufus

196 M. Claudius Marcellus

191

C2

C3

C4

C5

179 Q. Fulvius Flaccus II

P. Mucius Scaevola

Ti. Sempronius Gracchus II

177

175

175

C8

C9

C10

C11

C12

194 T. Quinctius Flamininus

190 M.' Acilius Glabrio

189 L. Aemilius Regillus

189 L. Cornelius Scipio

188

187

187

E1

E2

E3

E4

E5

E6

E7

167 L. Aemilius Paullus II

167 Cn. Octavius

167 L. Anicius Gallus

E8

E9

E10

Cn. Manlius Vulso

M. Fulvius Nobilior II

Q. Fabius Labeo

C. Cicereius

175

172

D1

D2

M. Aemilius Lepidus

C. Claudius Pulcher

180 M. Baebius Tamphilus

C7

L. Aemilius Paullus

181

180 P. Cornelius Cethegus

C6

P. Cornelius Scipio Nasica

200 L. Furius Purpureo

C1

BCE Commander Tr

AM

Nav Nav

pr

pr Tr

Nav

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

pr

cos Tr

pr

cos Tr

cos Tr

pr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos Tr

cos AM

cos Tr

pr

34.52.5-8

42.21.7

lacuna

lacuna

lacuna

41.13.7-8

40.59.2

40.38.9

40.38.9

40.34.8

36.40.12-13

33.37.12

33.23.9

33.23.7

31.49.2

Livy

Gentius

Perseus

Perseus

Galatians

Aetolia

Antiochus

Antiochus

Antiochus

45.43.4-7

45.42.2-3

45.40.1-5

39.7.1-2

39.5.14-17

37.59.4-6

37.58.4

Antiochus, Aetolia 37.46.3-4

Philip

Corsica

Sardinia

Liguria

Liguria

Liguria, Histria

Liguria

Liguria

Liguria

Liguria

Cisalpine Gaul

Cisalpine Gaul

Cisalpine Gaul, Liguria

Cisalpine Gaul

Cisalpine Gaul

Enemy/Region

?

220.000

83.000

138.843

3.000

18.270

247

767.728

5.179.210

533.700

1.199.000

684.336

371.277

‘almost none’

234.000

266.000

78.600

102.750

203.500

den.

Coin

27

103.000

2103 1.649.680

243

1023

3714

lbs

lbs

2.340

Gold

Silver

371.277

?

0

0

0

638.040

266.000

78.600

102.750

203.500

?

0

?

21.896.200

7.943.848

17.701.342

533.700

1.451.000

5.338.776

den.

Total

212

112

234

49

45

114

25

45

75

100

42

25

25

25

15

30

0

0

30

12,5

8

7

7

90

150

?

84

50

50

50

30

60

25

24

14

14

135

300

?

126

75

75

75

45

90

37,5

24

14

14

ped. cent. eq.

Crowns Donatives (den.)

Roman Spoils and Triumphs, 218–167 BCE

243

Modes of Extraction

Markets on the Move The Commercialisation of Spoils of War in the Roman Republic Marta García Morcillo I Introduction This contribution will assess the existence throughout the Roman Republic of markets of movable spoils that generated bullion and cash, whilst they also supported the redistribution of goods and prisoners into wider networks of commercialisation. I will focus specifically on spoils sold on the spot, during military campaigns, while the army was on the move. Although the notion of markets opens different perspectives and definitions – from spaces and venues of exchange to temporary gatherings, from simple bilateral transactions to more complex and multisided structures – my approach will consider any framework in which actors participated in the evaluation and transfer of spoils and their transformation into a commodity. Following a short introduction to the public management of the collective benefits of spoils, I will examine the mechanisms for their sale, led by the military authorities. A closer look at sales sub hasta and sub corona will attempt to shed some light on the ritualistic and legal function of these procedures and their increasing importance as public economic institutions in not only reinforcing Rome’s legitimate authority over a conquered territory, but also in securing the transfer of property rights to purchasers. The last part of the chapter will discuss more specifically the role of merchants, retailers and camp followers, but also of soldiers and commanders in the redistribution of spoils both in areas of conflict and in more commercially advantageous locations. The evidence for these practices, which are more intensively documented from the middle to the end of the Republic, provides hints about regulated market structures, but also about their interweaving with more or less flexible and spontaneous forms of commercialisation. This contribution will further examine the impact of uncertainty and asymmetric information on the marketisation of spoils, as well as the role of military authorities to mitigate this problem and gain progressive control over these activities. I will ultimately argue that the market opportunities and structures generated by war-

248

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spoils did not only contribute to the consolidation of economic institutions beyond the military sphere, but also to a successful narrative of trustworthiness in the public instruments that guaranteed the transfer of property-rights. II The Sale of Spoils and the Narrative of Collective Benefits Ancient narrators, notably Livy, often confer particular importance on the metal, bullion and monetary incomes paid into the aerarium populi Romani.1 The interest of ancient authors in the acquisition of spoils and the outcome of successful military campaigns tends to attenuate and often even omit accounts that refer to the intermediary steps: the process of transforming spoils into accountable benefits, and the role played by the actors involved in this process. But in what circumstances and forms were spoils and prisoners sold? The importance of the direct material benefits of war, despite the introduction, at a certain point, of other systematic forms of exploitation of conquered territories (such as indemnities and taxation) and of the soldier’s stipendium, suggests a progressive public control over the mechanisms of the redistribution of spoils.2 The public management of war benefits and the role played in it by the general in command or magistrate cum imperio (e. g. his right to dispose of spoils and prisoners), stands at the centre of a fertile scholarly debate.3 A crucial point of this discussion is the question of the meaning of specific terms that seemed to distinguish different categories of spoils and their treatment, mainly praeda, manubiae and spolia. A critical discussion of these concepts remains outside the scope of this study. It is, however, important to note that their differentiation seemed to mirror not only the problem of authority over spoils and their management, but also the fundamental issue of the dynamism and transformation of the status of spoils and captives into quantifiable benefits for the state. In rough outlines, the sources tend to focus on the benefits directly or indirectly obtained from the spoils that ultimately fed the aerarium. These accounts suggest a progressive increase in the regularisation and the supervision of the redistribution of praeda. However, the evidence shows a more complex picture, in which public institu-

1

The evidence has been extensively studied by Coudry (2009b). On Livy and the benefits from praeda recorded in the aerarium, see also John Rich’s contribution in this volume. 2 The stipendium of the soldiers, generally linked to the tribute paid by citizens but also to payments claimed by the defeated party, was probably a temporary, not a regular solution, Nicolet (1976b) 19–26, 69–70. From the mid-second century BCE, the army was expected to sustain itself through the direct benefits of its campaigns, but also to feed the aerarium, Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 205–215; Coudry & Humm (2009) 10–11; Coudry (2009b) 40–44; Berrendonner (2022). See also the contribution by François Gauthier in this volume on the soldiers’ benefits from spoils. 3 This topic is discussed by Bona (1960); Gabba (1977); Shatzman (1972); Churchill (1999); Tarpin (2000), (2009); Wolters (2008); Rosenstein (2011).

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249

tions interacted with private actors in business opportunities that were generated by plundering and pillage. The literary references to the sale of spoils and prisoners show certain recognisable patterns: they generally distinguish between captives and material objects, as well as between spoils that were sold for the benefit of soldiers, and spoils controlled directly by the commander, that were normally aimed to feed the aerarium.4 The necessary participation of the quaestor militaris in the latter is explicitly mentioned in several instances. Even if the military quaestors were at the service of the consul, praetor or magistrate cum imperio, their main function was to preserve and record the benefits of conquest on behalf of the public treasury.5 The participation of quaestors in public sales was traced back by Livy and Dionysius of Halicarnassus to an episode of dubious historicity: the auction of the goods of the Tyrrhenian king Lars Porsenna, whose army had voluntarily withdrawn from Rome after occupying the Janiculum in support of the Tarquinians in 508 BCE.6 Livy links with this episode the origin of the popular expression ‘bona Porsennae regis vendendi’ (“the goods of the King Porsenna are for sale”), which seems to have survived to his own time as a sort of marketing slogan or acclamation connected with the announcement of public auctions in Rome. This re-elaborated anecdote shows how public sales linked to war episodes and spoils were incorporated into a discourse that prioritised the idea of an emerging Republic already capable of a fair, transparent and efficient management and redistribution of collective resources. The active involvement of the military quaestor and his staff (including scribae and praecones) in the process of division, distribution and sale of spoils implied the elaboration of accurate rationes (records) that, along with the acta triumphorum of the general, would have later been processed in the aerarium.7 Accounts of the interventionism of public officers of the state intensified in particular from the Second Punic Wars onwards.8 That these practices were well-established towards the beginning of the second century BCE is confirmed in Plautus’ comedies, where we find explicit

4 5 6 7 8

Coudry (2009b) provides a systematic catalogue of the sale of praeda. See also Berrendonner (2022) On the financial role of the quaestores urbani in charge of the aerarium, see Mommsen (19523) 532–547; Coudry (2009b) 51–56; Muñiz Coello (2014); Pina Polo & Díaz Fernández (2019); Berrendonner (2022). Liv. 2.14.1–4; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 5.34.4–5. On this episode, see also Donadio (2016) 390–391. The quaestors were also in charge of the detailed inventory of treasuries seized from foreign states. Examples include the treasures of Syracuse (Liv. 35.30.1; 35.31.8), Carthage (Plb. 10.19) and Carthago Nova (Liv. 26.47.7); see Coudry (2009b) 28; Tarpin (2009) 96–97. In Hasdrubal’s camp in Baecula, Hispania (209 BCE), Scipio distributed the praeda among the soldiers and separated the prisoners between the Hispanians and Africans, liberating the former and selling the latter through the quaestors (Liv. 27.19.2; Oros. 4.18.7). After the battle of Metaurus in 207 BCE, the same procedure was followed for the benefit of the treasury (Plb. 11.3.2).

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references to the sale of praeda and captives through quaestors both on the battlefield and in Rome.9 The public control over these practices – in spite of the eventual agency of commanders to partially dispose of the spoils and their redistribution – shows a will to publicise the mechanisms of accounting and its records in the paraphernalia of the victory, as Marianne Coudry has shown.10 The visibility of these records, particularly in Livy, ultimately fostered the construction of legitimacy, as well as a public imagery of collective military success that translated into monetary benefits. This line of reasoning is often strengthened by explicit references to market structures that amplified – sometimes anachronistically – the mechanisms of publicity, and thus the image of transparency and efficiency, of the state as a capable manager of income generated by war. The literary references to venditiones sub hasta and sub corona, as happens with the references to quaestores in charge of the redistribution of spoils, are thus also retrospectively associated with very early episodes of conquest. Beyond the construction of this narrative, these specific categories of sales implied, as I will argue, the creation of secure spaces of exchange that not only permitted the participation of external bidders and intermediaries, but also guaranteed the transformation of spoils into transferable commodities. The literary recollection of sales of war-spoils and prisoners in early stages of the Republican period raises the question – generally silenced in the sources – of what kind of money Romans would have adopted in transactions that took place outside their territory, before and after the creation of their own currency by the end of the fourth century BCE. An analysis of this complex matter cannot, for obvious reasons, be undertaken in the present contribution. A relevant observation to consider, however, is that by the sixth century BCE, Romans certainly used heavy objects of bronze as money, and that these objects were later standardised as coins of intrinsic value. The overlapping until the end of the third century BCE of bronze coins of intrinsic and of token value, as well as of Greek-modelled silver coins, did not only signalise Rome’s still uncomplete journey towards a standardised monetary system, but also its flexibility and capacity of adaptation to different contexts of economic exchange, like those generated by war-campaigns.11

9 Plaut. Bacch. 1070–1075; Capt. 110. On purchases de praeda, see also 31–36; 455; Epid. 64, 107–8, 608, 621. See also Coudry (2009b) 23–24. 10 Coudry (2009b, 51–56) discusses the importance of the accounts of benefits from spoils, elaborated by the quaestors, often called litterae or tabulae publicae, and how they were displayed during the triumph, before they were archived in the aerarium. 11 An in-depth analysis of the circulation of early coinage in ancient Italy is provided by Bransbourg (2011), with further bibliography. See also the contribution by Termeer in this volume.

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251

III Venditio sub hasta The sale of spoils coordinated by the quaestor was often made ‘under the spear’ (sub hasta), i. e. through an auction, which necessarily implied the involvement of a herald (praeco or keryx), who announced and conducted the sale. His various roles as staff of the military quaestor are mentioned in several sources.12 The keryx’ indispensability in commercial affairs, already documented in Classical Athens, is underlined by Polybius in his account of the first treaty between Rome and Carthage (508/7 BCE). According to the treaty, no business was allowed to be concluded without the presence of a herald (κῆρυξ) or a scriba (γραμματεύς) and the price of any sales had to be confirmed by the state (3.22.8). The establishment of these conditions assured a certain degree of public control over transactions that took place outside the state’s own jurisdiction.13 These legal considerations are important to understand the process of sales sub hasta. Livy mentions the venditio sub hasta of praeda in relation to several early episodes of conquest, such as the victory of the dictator Aulus Postumius against the Volscians (431 BCE) (4.29.4), and the campaign of the consul Gaius Valerius Potitus against the citadel of Carventa (410 BCE). The latter was followed by the auction, ordered by the quaestor, of the praeda for the benefit of the aerarium (4.53.10). The spoils obtained from the victory against the Tarquinians in 397 BCE were partially sold sub hasta for the benefit of the soldiers (5.16.10). Even if the origins of the venditio sub hasta are difficult to trace, Livy intentionally presents this practice as an example of the capacity of the young Republican state to create an effective economic institution that managed the redistribution of the collective benefits from war.14 The reference to the sale of spoils under the spear in later episodes, particularly during the Second Punic War (23.32.14–15; 23.37.13), and above all the adoption of the expression as a generic reference to state auctions (also as legal institution in imperial and post-classical law) reinforces this practice not only as an efficient mechanism to obtain cash, but also as an instrument of authority. In Festus’ De Verborum significatione, the hasta is in fact defined as a signum praecipuum, a symbol of Roman authority imposed upon the conquered territory (Fest. 55 L), which legitimised its iustum dominium. As a magic and religious symbol of sovereignty, originally associated in Latin tradition with the power of the rex, the spear was also loaded with supernatural attributes.15 Linked with ancient cults, the hasta featured prominently in the archaic ius fetiale. The fetiales were, among others, in charge of the ceremony of 12 13 14 15

On the praecones as staff of the quaestors in Hasdrubal’s camp, occupied by Scipio, see Liv. 27.19.3. Jakab (1997) 27–28, discusses the function of archaic law systems in providing security for transactions taking place in an international context. On the historicity of these early episodes, see Armstrong in this volume. The connection between this sacred tradition and the legal attributions of the hasta has been analysed by Alföldi (1959) and Nótári (2007). Its power surpassed the sacred boundaries of the city, Gai. Inst. 4.16.

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creating a foedus and the formal declaration of war, a ritual that culminated in the act of throwing the spear into the enemy’s territory, a gesture that symbolised the taking of possession over the territory.16 A similar attribution of the spear is also implicit in the Greek expression δορίκτητος (‘won by the spear’) which legitimated possession by conquest.17 The influence of the ius fetiale in other sectors of society probably explains the fact that oaths made with the use of a spear were a common practice in Rome.18 Also a symbol of authority in the civic context, the hasta was the attribute of the quaestors and the praetors in charge of the tribunal of the decemviri.19 The iudicium centumviralis, which was active from the second century BCE, and used to be presided over by a praetor and, symbolically, by a spear, was a court devoted to resolving conflicts of property linked to inheritances.20 The second century CE jurist Gaius links the hasta with the festuca used by the contenders in litigation concerning private property rights (Inst. 4.16).21 The conceptualisation of the spear as a legal and sacred expression of the iustum dominium thus explains the frequent mention of sales sub hasta of spoils and prisoners in the literary sources. As with the judge in court litigations concerning ius privatum, the magistrate cum imperio led a procedure that was conceived of as a ritual of submission to the authority of the spear. Witnesses and participants in this publicly performed act, including purchasers, played an essential part in the process that sanctioned the transfer of property rights. The resilience of the expression sub and ab hasta (also subhastatio) in imperial and late-Roman legislation can be explained by the positive symbolism carried by the military spear as an accepted – and thus legitimated – form of arbitration by a public authority, a trait that defined both auctions and conflicts around property rights.

Liv. 32.11.14. See Nótári (2007) 250–254. On the ritual of the hasta sanguinea, see Magdelain (1990) 247–251. 17 The right of acquisition by conquest is discussed by Chaniotis (2004) 194–199, who shows how this recognition, even if it was not always unanimously accepted, was substantiated in both Greek customary and international law. 18 This was the case for the legis actio sacramento in rem, which was conceived as a ritual in front of a judge, see Kaser (1987). 19 The hasta appears along with the sella quaestoria and the fiscus as symbols of the quaestores in numismatic iconography, e. g. the as types from Cilicia that portrayed Gaius Sosius, governor of Cilicia and Syria (38 BCE), RPC 5409–5410. 20 Suet. Aug. 36.1; Plin. Epist. 6.33. See also Nótári (2007) 234. 21 On the symbolic correlation between hasta and festuca, see Levy-Bruhl 1952; Bona (1959) 343–344. In the Principate, the praetor presiding over the court of the centumviri was named praetor hastarius (e. g. CIL VI 1365), and praetor ad hastas (e. g. XIV 3602 = ILS 950), cf. Alföldi (1959) 10. 16

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IV Venditio sub corona The endurance of the term sub hasta contrasts with the relatively short life of the venditio sub corona, an early expression that probably vanished by the late Republic or the beginnings of the Principate.22 What we do know is that it was almost exclusively applied in the military sphere and, unlike the more generic sub hasta, it specifically concerned the sale of captives. The process of enslaving enemies was facilitated by the ius gentium, which authorised the transformation of the status of captives seized by the general (manu capiuntur) into res mancipi, and thus their sale.23 The procedure for sales sub corona, as in the venditio sub hasta, was an auction conducted by a praeco. Early examples are provided by Livy, who traced this practice to archaic Rome. The certainly over-elaborated episode of the taking of the Latin city of Pometia towards the end of the sixth century BCE signals its old origins. Despite the deditio of its inhabitants, the city was destroyed, its leaders executed and the inhabitants sub corona venierunt (2.17.6–7). The same procedure was, according to Livy, followed after the capture of the Etruscan town of Fidenae (426 BCE), in which captives were sold sub corona (4.34.4).24 In 396 BCE, the huge spoils obtained from the capture of Veii by M. Furius Camillus were partially distributed among the soldiers, whereas the prisoners were sold sub corona for the profit of the treasury.25 In 323 BCE, the Tusculani were accused of encouraging other towns (Priventum and Velitrae) to revolt against Rome. Their fate was discussed by the comitia tributa, which voted for amnesty, with the sole exception of the tribus Pollia, whose members were in favour of executing the men and selling the women and children sub corona.26 The sale sub corona is also mentioned in Livy’s account of a victory against the Samnites, led by the proconsul Quintus Fabius near the Campanian town of Allifae (307 BCE). After the Samnites surrendered in their camp, they were submitted to the ritual of the sub iugum, while their allies, having no further provision or supplies (nihil cautum) to negotiate with, were sold sub corona (9.42.7–8). These passages distinguish the various treatments and the categorisation of prisoners, whilst they also help to better understand the venditio sub corona as an economic strategy intended to obtain immediate benefits from the wholesale of captives.

22 23

24 25 26

On the venditio sub corona, see Ehrhardt (1940) 96–97; Talamanca (1954) 153–158; Leugerans (1987); Welwei (2000) 12–13; Wickham (2014) 74–78; Donadio (2016) 392–398. See for instance Dig. 1.5.4 (Florent. 9 inst.); Dig. 1.5.5.1 (Marcian. 1 inst.). Certain sources explicitly mention that the venditio sub corona was made under the framework of the ius belli: Liv. 8.37.11; 30.14.15; Florus, Epit. 4.12.52. However, as Talamanca (1954) 157–8 states, even if the ius belli provided the formalia for the sale of captives, these procedures were made under the umbrella of the ius gentium. On the ius gentium and its applicability, see also Cascione (2003) 351–399. Both episodes are analysed by Welwei (2000) 25, who notices the suspicious rounded figures of the number of captured prisoners provided by Livy. Liv. 5.21–22; Plut. Cam. 7.7–8. Liv. 8.37.11; Val. Max. 9.19.1.

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As we have seen, the need to attract potential bidders required the army to move towards places frequented by traders and dealers. After defeating the Carthaginians in Sicily, the consul Tiberius Sempronius Longus captured the island of Melita (Malta) in 218 BCE, where he took around two thousand prisoners. These were subsequently transported to the strategic harbour of Lilybaeum in Sicily, where the Romans kept their fleet. There, the prisoners were auctioned sub corona, apart from the most noble among them (Liv. 21.51). These measures towards defeated and surrendered populations are also attested in the conflict against the Turdetani in 197 BCE (24.42.11). Cato’s campaign against the citadel of Bergium (Hispania), in 195 BCE, also ended with the sale sub corona of part of the population (34.16.10). The procedure is also attested during the Aetolian War (189 BCE) (35.36.10). In Same, Cephalonia, women and children sub corona omnes venierunt after the capitulation and plundering of the city (38.29.11); the same happened following the conquest of the Histrian cities of Nesatium, Mutila and Faveria in 177 BCE (41.11.8). Here, as well as in the siege of Haliartus during the Macedonian War (171 BCE), Livy specifies the number of captives sold and differentiates them from the material praeda (42.63.11–12). These examples also show that the deditio, or voluntary capitulation of a town, did not always save the population from enslavement.27 All in all, Livy’s accounts of sales sub corona confirm that these procedures were conceived as institutionalised systems for the massive enslavement of free populations, led by a magistrate cum imperio and executed by the quaestor. This procedure tended to be accompanied by the plundering and destruction of towns. The earliest authors to mention the sale sub corona as an extant practice in their own times are Varro and Caesar. Caesar’s De bello Gallico describes how the surrendered Venetii were dispossessed of their property, their leaders executed and the population submitted to captivity and sold sub corona (3.16.4). The purchase of slaves sold sub corona was one of various options to be considered by property owners looking to purchase strong herdsmen, if we are to believe Varro’s recommendation in his De re rustica. The author specifically describes these sales as resulting from military spoils, differentiating them from other legal forms of acquisition, including the sectio bonorum and the purchase en bloc of goods confiscated by the state (2.10.4–5). This testimony highlights that these collective sales ultimately also fed the private slave markets in Rome.28 Several sources attest the continuity of the expression sub corona during the Principate to specifically designate the sale of large groups of captives.29 There is no exact 27

The decision to enslave free populations was contested by the Senate in 170 BCE, when the praetor Lucius Hortensius plundered Abdera and sold sub corona its inhabitants, even though they had promised to pay compensation, Liv. 43.4.8–9. 28 Slaves kept for the triumph and ultimately sold in Rome must have been a minority, particularly when the military campaigns started to take place far away from Italy, see Östenberg (2009) 128. 29 Florus, Epit. 2.33.52. By the fifth century CE, Orosius still distinguished between the sale of free populations sub corona, Hist. 5.3.6, and the auction of slaves (servi) and praeda sub hasta, Hist.

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equivalent expression in Greek. In a similar vein, the term λαφυροπώλιον described the wholesale of spoils and prisoners.30 War captives were most commonly referred to by the terms ἀιχμάλωτος and ἀνδράποδον. Expressions derived from andrapodon usually designated the mass enslavement of a free population, which could be followed by their sale.31 This system of collective subjugation resembled the Romans’ procedure of enslaving war captives and communities, leading to their venditio sub corona.32 But what exactly did the term corona refer to? The interest in the term’s polysemy caught the attention of the second century CE author Aulus Gellius. A long passage from the Attic Nights (6.4) offers two possible explanations. The first dates back to the first century CE jurist Caelius Sabinus, who linked the sale sub corona to a crown of garlands that indicated the sale of captives without guarantees, and compared this practice to the sale of slaves who were distinguished from others by the pilleus on their head (6.4.1–3). Gellius also mentions a passage from a lost work of Cato the Elder, De re militari, which explains that a defeated population would have supplicated the victors with a crown (coronatus), in the best case, or be sold with a crown in less favourable circumstances (6.4.5). This view seems to be followed by the late-second-century CE grammarian Sextus Pompeius Festus, who also evokes Cato’s passage and the old tradition that the captives were sold crowned (captiui coronati solent uenire) (400 L). Within the same text, the author adds that the corona indicated that the seller (the populus) did not provide any guarantee with the sale.33 Festus also quotes a passage from Hortulus (fr. 91), a lost play attributed to Plautus, which states that a praeco could sell anyone cum corona to whoever would bid for him/her.34 The second explanation offered by Gellius draws upon a different meaning of the term corona, that of a circle, and advances the possibility that captives would have been encircled by soldiers to facilitate their sale, thus equating the corona with a circumstatio militum (6.4.4). This plausible interpretation has been suggested by Rüpke and Welwei.35 In this regard, the term corona frequently described military rings or cordons of

30 31

32 33 34

35

5.18.26. See also: Hist. 3.12.17; 3.16.2 and 4.7.6. Other examples in Justin: 11.4.7; 34.2.6; Zonaras 9.22.6 and Livy’s Periochae, ep. 43.2–3. See further Dig. 50.16.239 (Pomp. l. sing. enchir). Str. 14.3.2. On the wholesaler or laphiropolés, see Pritchett (1991) 402. On the different categories of spoils in Ancient Greek, see Diod. Sic. 14.15.2–3 and Pritchett (1991) 168–173; Brun & Descat (2000) 212–223. Andrapodizo was understood as the systematic subjugation of captured populations, leading to their enslavement, see Gaca (2010); Wickham (2014) 78–79. Dionysius of Halicarnassus narrates the taking of the Latin town of Corniculus, the transformation of women and children into andrapoda and their subsequent sale, 3.50.6, cf. Gaca (2010) 125. According to Talamanca (1954) 156–157, Festus here refers to any responsibility for eviction from the vendor’s side. In this line, Leugerans (1987) 200–204, supports the hypothesis that the corona was a crown used for the supplicatio of the captives, which led to their enslavement and sale. Jakab (1997) 38–39, follows the idea of the equivalence between corona and pilleus as markers that distinguished captives sold without guarantee. Rüpke (1990) 112–114; Welwei (2000) 13.

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soldiers as a siege strategy,36 but more relevantly, it also referred to the encircling that occurred in a contio or assembly within the camp (Liv. 28.29.10). This hypothesis can be reinforced by the tracing of the term corona outside of the military sphere in the sense of circumstatio. Corona indicates in these context crowds or circles of people, including in markets,37 as well as the audience that witnessed – and participated in – trials.38 In my opinion, a comparative insight of the Greek term κύκλος can be particularly enlightening. The kykloi were defined by imperial lexicographers quoting earlier examples from Athenian Comedy as circular markets in which slaves and other commodities were auctioned off.39 One of these types of markets was located in the Athenian Agora, and the evidence suggests that such kykloi hosted large scale sales of slaves and livestock on a periodical rather than a daily basis.40 The chronology of the early examples reflected the blossoming of the Aegean and Athenian slave market in the fifth and the fourth century BCE, boosted by the low costs of maritime transport for the most of short-distance routes that operated in the region.41 Greek comic authors were particularly observant of the issue of mass enslavement of war captives and its social and economic consequences. A double-ringed structure recently studied in the harbour area of the trade emporion of Delos has been plausibly identified as a kyklos in which slaves were auctioned off to dealers and merchants in speedy sales that secured a high volume of daily transfers.42 All in all, these examples and parallels support the interpretation of the venditio sub corona as a circle that delimited a legal space for a regulated temporary market that assured the transfer of rights to the acquisitor. The preposition sub underpins the idea of the subjugation or submission of the captives to the authority of Rome, but also reinforces the sense of protection. It is tempting to see the origins of the concept in a Liv. 4.47.5.2; 23.18.5.4; 26.18.5.4; BHisp. 13.7.1; SHA, Gall. 7.2.6. Mart. 1.4.6; Apul. Met. 2.13.10; 8.23. Cf. Rosillo-López (2017); see also Pliny, Epist. 6.33.3.4. Pollux (7.11) describes the kykloi as places where slaves (andrapoda) and other goods were sold, and situates them in the Athenian agora (10.18). Harpocration, quoting Menander, reveals that the slaves ran in circles in the kykloi to be sold, 186.3. The Byzantine Hesychius equated the kyklos with a peribolos, a construction resembling a roulette wheel (ὑπότροχον), in which slaves were sold while they circulated, 4478.1. The Severan author Aelianus links the kerykes with the kykloi of Athens, Var. Hist. 2.1.7. Finally, a scholion to Aristophanes’ The Knights (Schol. Hipp. 137) links the name of these markets to their form. On the kykloi, see Plácido (2002) 27; Descat (2012) 204–205; Moretti, Fincker & Chankowski (2012); Davis (2015) 323–325. 40 This has been suggested very convincingly by Davis (2015) 324. The author mentions Aristoph. Eq. 43, which refers to a purchase of a slave in the market of the first day of the lunar month, which was a regulated market day, e. g. Theophr. 4.15. 41 In this regard, Descat (2012) 204–205 and Davis (2015) 323–325. This interpretation will accord with the sense of Menander’s fragment mentioned above. 42 See the study and well-documented interpretation of this structure by Moretti, Fincker & Chan­ kowski (2012). This double-ringed structure presents indeed similarities with traditional livestock markets still in use today, in which the animals move inside the circle while bidders place their offers from a visually advantageous position outside the ring. 36 37 38 39

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sacred ritual that, like the hasta, would have evolved from the archaic ius fetiale and its interpretation of the conquered territory as a circumscription of imperium and iustum dominium. This conceptualisation of the space would have later evolved into a normalised procedure framed by the ius gentium that enabled the enslavement and sale of free foreign populations, previously dispossessed of their land and goods. The term sub c­ orona would thus have designated both an encircled space and a ritualised market that, possibly evolving from the Greek kykloi, would have emerged as an effective solution for the quick commercialisation of large masses of enslaved captives. V Traders, Merchants and the Markets of Spoils The evidence analysed above delineates – despite some anachronistic accounts – the progressive formation of market structures regulated by the military (and public) authorities. In what follows, I will look at the performance of internal and external economic actors and at different market dynamics linked with the commercialisation of spoils, but also with the temporary presence of the Roman army in certain territories. The irregular literary references to merchants and professional intermediaries linked to the army essentially show two different ways of looking at spoils and their management. On the one hand, wholesale of spoils and prisoners led by the quaestor following the procedures sub hasta and corona implied the participation of well-networked negotiatores or agents capable of moving large monetary resources, as well as the capacity to hold such sales in areas favoured by connectivity. Unfortunately, the sources tend to be silent on this point, and the trace of such transfers often vanishes after the sales. On the other hand, ancient authors highlight certain circumstances in which individual soldiers were officially authorised by the commander to dispose of part of the spoils during the campaign, or simply benefited from more or less authorised plundering actions. These testimonies reveal a necessary cooperation with traders who either followed the army, or already operated in the region where the units were temporarily stationed.43 Such accounts also place a focus on conflicts generated by informational asymmetries that disclosed the disadvantageous position of soldiers as ignorant sellers in need, in opposition to opportunist and expert dealers who made the most of their specialist knowledge and the urgencies of military campaigns. The presence of traders and intermediaries who not only acted as suppliers but also followed the army in search of gain was well-attested in Greek warfare.44 In the Roman context, the engagement of mercatores in the sale of spoils was traced back by Livy (10.17.5–7) to the campaigns of Publius Decius Mus against the Samnites (296 BCE). 43 On merchants following the army, see Coudry (2009b) 25–26. 44 See Pritchett (1991) 401–438; Jacquemin (2009) 109–112. On the sale of spoils in the Macedonian army, see the chapter by Michael Kleu in this volume.

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After the taking of Murgantia, Decius convinced his soldiers to immediately sell their share of the spoils in order to continue the campaign against Samnite cities without the inconvenience of having to transport heavy loads. The passage reveals a strategy that may have been common in campaigns that consisted of continued short plundering actions. The consul specifically asked the soldiers to convince mercatores to follow them for the opportunity of greater spoils and profit, in exchange promising the soldiers more supplies for sale. The soldiers followed this advice and their success in capturing Romulea allowed them to repeat the strategy. The anecdote reveals an informal system in which soldiers had the freedom and the agency to decide about their shares from requisitions, and to negotiate directly with traders, while generals also benefited from their presence. The traders, for their part, certainly took advantage of the urgencies and improvisation of such campaigns. The African campaigns during the Second Punic War provide enlightening instances of these interactions. In Polybius’ account of the siege of Utica by Scipio Africanus (204 BCE), the soldiers needed to sell their share of the spoils in order to continue the campaign; this clearly benefited the emporoi, who obtained very profitable bargains, given that the soldiers, according to Polybius, attached little value to the goods.45 The difficulties to access attractive markets in areas affected by war conflicts and thus by lack of demand and competition, strengthened the position of single traders who directly negotiated with disadvantaged sellers. These accounts also point out the flexibility and mobility of traders, highlighting that the opportunity to conclude quick-sale agreements with soldiers could become a profitable business for purchasers, despite the uncertainty that conditioned such transactions. Time pressures and the knowledge about the volatility of market value and demand were certainly in their favour. As for the commanders, they obviously searched for the most secure and profitable way of dealing with spoils, yet they also had to face the potential problems that came with allowing soldiers to directly manage the sale of their sharing with traders, which could lead to conflicts and disorder.46 When in-camp or local sales did not provide advantageous perspectives, the army moved to more economically favourable locations, where the redistribution of large amounts of spoils and captives was easier, particularly via sea-trade. In line with the historically doubtful early episodes discussed above, Dionysius of Halicarnassus narrates a suggestive case during the campaign against the Volscians in 469 BCE, when the Romans supposedly took and plundered a small coastal town controlled by the Antiates, who had established there a market for spoils and a station for their ships. The consul T. Numicius Priscus distributed slaves, goods, cattle and merchandise to the soldiers and ordered the captives to be sold at auction (λαφυροπώλιον) (Dion. Hal. 45 46

See Plb. 14.7.2. See also Volkmann (1961) 58; Pritchett (1991) 431. Gauthier in this volume, addresses the problem of the irregular control over pillage and plunder by soldiers from the perspective of generals.

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Ant. Rom. 9.56.5). The anecdote defines a strategy that was resorted to in later periods when the army operated near coastal areas favoured by trade or when long campaigns made local supplies essential. Returning to the African campaign of 204 BCE, the Numidians managed to successfully plunder the lands of the Carthaginians, obtaining vast spoils that included prisoners. According to Livy, they decided to transport all of this to the coast, where mercatores landed their boats for the purpose.47 Livy also informs us that during a campaign in the Third Illyrian War, in 178 BCE, a Roman squadron was sent from Aquileia to the nearest port in Histrian territory, while a legionary camp was built about five miles from the coast. Very shortly afterwards, a market was established in the harbour, which facilitated the supplies for the camp.48 This is a clear example of how geographical factors conditioned the strategies to secure provisions for the army in large campaigns, but also of the economic opportunities generated to traders by the temporary presence of a large army in a foreign territory.49 The use of harbour towns for the sale of spoils and captives is well-attested in Greek warfare.50 Slave markets linked to war spoils were known in harbour cities such as Corinth, Chios and Ephesos.51 Beyond the renowned case of the emporion of Delos,52 Strabo details the morally dubious business that took place in the harbour of Side in Pamphilia. The port had become a large redistribution market for war captives (λαφυροπώλιον) run by Cilicians, who sold them through a crier (ὑπὸ κήρυκά), thus implying wholesale auctions (14.3.2). The sales of spoils and captives through a keryx were frequent among pirates, if we are to believe Plutarch (Cam. 8.7). Overall, as we have seen above, this system of redistribution implies the existence of a regularised market and certain level of coordination with dealers and intermediaries. Occasionally, the Roman army cooperated with negotiatores.53 These traders were often engaged in business and financial intermediation that surpassed the economic enterprises of mercatores in volume.54 During the Jugurthine War (112–106 BCE), the consul Quintus Caecilius Metellus fixed as his main objective the capture of the city of Vaga, the most important trading centre of the Numidians. Sallust narrates that dur47 48 49

Liv. 29.31. Liv. 41.1: in portu emporium brevi perfrequens factum. Erdkamp (1998) 119 underlines the importance of such regional markets for the supply of fresh and perishable products that suffered with long-distance trade. 50 E. g. Plb. 4.75 and 77, on the spoils captured by Philip V in Thalamae and transported to Heraea for a more profitable sale by auction. On the transport of captives to harbour cities, see Volkmann (1961) 108; Pritchett (1991) 158; Brun & Descat (2000) 214; Jacquemin (2009) 111. 51 Hdt. 8.104–5; Athen. 6265b 52 Strabo mentions the – certainly exaggerated – figure of ten thousand slaves sold daily on Delos, 10.5.4. See also 14.5.2. 53 Caesar was accompanied by negotiatores when he sailed to Pelusium during his persecution of Pompey, Caes. BCiv. 3.103.1. 54 On negotiatores, see Verboven (2008).

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ing the conflict, Metellus met Italian negotiatores, who had established themselves in great numbers in Utica and had been financially affected by the war. His purpose was certainly to secure their financial cooperation in exchange for advantageous prices in the sale of the anticipated large spoils from the king (Bell. Iug. 47.1; 64.5–6). Metellus’ informal negotiations with negotiatores show that commanders needed to plan ahead, but also adapt to circumstances, in order to secure the sale of spoils during campaigns that were predictably long and logistically difficult. Despite the insatiable greed (animo cupienti) that Sallust attributes to the negotiatores, this sort of collaborations must have been common. Unlike in previous cases, where merchants ran small businesses by dealing directly with the soldiers, here we are looking at businessmen already active in foreign markets and thus able to operate with different monetary systems. They expected to benefit from the advantageous acquisition of praeda and to multiply their profit through the redistribution of the merchandise to retailers. The information networks managed by the army, including Roman traders settled in foreign territories, were thus key to attract cash to the theatres of war. Despite the intensification of such cooperation throughout the Republic and the establishment of (in some cases exclusive) agreements with negotiatores, there is no evidence for the existence of public contractors with specific rights in this context.55 Alongside strategies of marketing, commanders also needed to control the movements and initiatives of traders operating nearby or within the camps. In 147 BCE, during the Third Punic War, Scipio Aemilianus decided to ban all camp followers, with only those who brought bread allowed to return, thus admitting the army’s dependency on these privati as providers of essential goods. The reason for such a drastic measure was, according to Appian, a series of unauthorised pillaging expeditions, from which traders and soldiers profited. The measure aimed to restore the morale and discipline of the army, along with the principle that any monetary gain should be the result of a victory over the enemy, not of any illicit pillaging. Aemilianus ordered that any sale of plundered goods should be from that moment on conducted by himself and the quaestor.56 This case reveals conflicting interests that were resolved through a recentralisation of all sales of spoils. A similar strategy was followed by Aemilianus in Numantia in 135 BCE. The luxurious living and the demoralisation that affected the soldiers led Aemilianus to expel all emporoi, prostitutes, soothsayers and prophesiers, and to order the sale of all their wagons and unnecessary goods.57 Beyond the irregularities committed by traders and soldiers in these particular cases, the anecdotes aim to underline the ineffective management of resources outside the direct control of the enforcing structures of the military authorities and the state. 55 In this regard, see Erdkamp (1998) 114–119. 56 App. Pun. 17.115–117. On this episode, see also Gauthier in this volume. 57 App. Hisp. 14.85. The episode is also narrated by Val. Max. 2.7.1; Front. 4.1.1. See further Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 178; Coudry (2009b).

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While the presence of traders conducting irregular business with soldiers behind the backs of their generals (and profiting from the soldiers’ weak position) could have become a real problem for the general’s authority, the absence of these professionals could also risk entire operations. Long campaigns in remote places lacking adequate logistics often led to decisions that were made in apparently paradoxical c­ ircumstances. While the Romans negotiated a peace with the Seleucids after the defeat of Antiochus III in Magnesia (190 BCE), in 189 the consul Cn. Manlius Vulso headed towards Galatia via Pamphylia, likely with the purpose of weakening the Seleucid allies within the territory, but certainly also with the aim of obtaining monetary benefits to meet the cash retributions owed to the soldiers – many of them mercenaries – under his command.58 Appian narrates that while Manlius seized a considerable treasure, including money and spoils from pillaging, he had to leave behind around 40,000 Galatian captives and hand them to their barbarian neighbours (Syr. 9.42). The bargaining opportunity for the locals must have been huge. The author’s criticism points specifically at the burdensome spoils that hindered the return of the expedition and exposed the army to attacks, to the point where a large part of the spoils, as well as the cash destined for the aerarium, went lost on the way (Syr. 9.43). The unfortunate outcomes of Vulso’s Galatian incursions seem to be echoed in 73 BCE when, following a series of successful campaigns in Bithynia and Galatia, L. Licinius Lucullus obtained abundant spoils that he tried to sell in the camp. The lack of interested buyers (or at least competition), according to Plutarch, led to a substantial lowering of the final price of the lot. As a result, an ox was sold for only one drachma and a male slave (ἀνδράποδον) for four, while other parts of the spoils (λείαν) were not even sold at all and left behind or lost (Luc. 14.1). This episode illustrates how the lack of market opportunities, as well as time pressures, could turn a profitable victory into a ruinous business. It also unveils a typical problem of transaction costs. The devaluation of the spoils was linked to a series of factors: the limited size of the military convoy, the inherent difficulties of long-distance land transport, and the economic particularities of the region, including the lack of demand for certain commodities.59 The episode also suggests insufficient intelligence service and support logistics, which could have led to an erroneous diagnosis about the profitability of the campaign, the management of the spoils and prisoners, and the convenience of their sale or transport.

58

59

The campaign is narrated by Livy, who mentions the accusations against Manlius’ rapacity, Liv. 38.45. As Grainger notes (1995), this campaign needs to be contextualised, despite the ancient criticism, within the complex political and military situation in Asia Minor after Antiochus’ defeat and the need to consolidate Rome’s position of power in the region. Erdkamp (1998) 119, adds that the long peace enjoyed by Bithynia might have lowered the price of certain commodities.

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The presence of army sutlers or lixae, who followed and assisted the army, and searched for opportunities for profit, is relatively well-attested. No evidence indicates however that their function as suppliers of provisions was essential.60 Among camp followers there were certainly professional merchants. They are widely documented for instance in Caesar’s De bello Gallico, which provides interesting details about mercatores as key figures in the logistics of food supply and other resources, but also as important agents of information. Their ability to cross borders and operate businesses in foreign territories turned them into highly valued figures for all parties concerned.61 Their fundamental role in the redistribution of spoils was not exclusive to Greek and Roman armies. De bello Gallico also informs us that Germanic tribes normally allowed the presence of mercatores in their settlements, not for the purpose of satisfying their desire for imports, but rather to be able to sell what they had obtained in war (4.2.1). Caesar describes quite precisely that mercatores planted their tents outside the military camps (6.37.2). The organisation of space in Roman castra included security zones in which spoils, prisoners and cattle were kept, as well as a forum, where meetings as well as sales could be held.62 The relative stability of camps, particularly in long campaigns, favoured the creation of regularised market structures. The need to establish contacts and agreements with traders and intermediaries capable of providing cash, but also relevant on-site information, became almost unavoidable when campaigns became more complex enterprises. As discussed above, the creation by the military authorities of structures and spaces that facilitated the sale of spoils and attracted potential purchasers to these ephemeral and itinerant market gatherings and opportunities was only possible through the institutional frameworks that legitimated and provided security to purchasers outside the domain of the ius civile. VI War-Markets on the Move: Conclusions Throughout this contribution, we have encountered a variety of systems for the commercialisation of spoils. The presence of traders and other privati in the Roman camps, as well as near the theatres of war, canvasses a picture in which retailing businesses of various nature were often interwoven  – particularly from the Second Punic War onwards – with large-scale sales of spoils and prisoners. While the former issue de-

60 On lixae and their various occupations, see further Roth (1999) 93–100 61 Caes. BGall. 1.39.1; 2.15; 4.3.3; 4.5; 4.20. On the role of traders in Caesar’s De bello Gallico, see Martin (1980); Donadio (2016) 385–387. On merchants anticipating conquest in Gaul and Hispania, see García Riaza & Sánchez Moreno (2014). 62 Polybius describes the structure of the ideal military castrum and the functions of its buildings and spaces; see Plb. 6.27; 6.31; also Donadio (2016) 382–394.

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pictions of individual profit, but also problems of excesses or bad management, the latter tend to positively signalise a model of profit benefiting the aerarium. The specific aims of the literary narratives, including later re-elaborations of very early episodes, makes it particularly difficult to trace a diachronic development of different systems of redistribution of spoils, or to clarify the specific function of actors involved in these activities. Even if they are rarely mentioned, wholesalers and financial intermediaries like the negotiatores must have become at a certain point – particularly when campaigns moved outside Italy – essential for monetary transactions, and for the expansion of the commercial horizon of movable spoils. The link between the exponential growth of these practises and their benefits, their impact on the international market, and the increase in circulation of silver coinage within Italy from the third century BCE, are intriguing aspects that deserve to be explored in greater depth. The mention of professionals involved in the sale of spoils and provisions tends to accompany narratives that highlight irregularities  – disciplinary matters involving soldiers, logistical problems, information asymmetries and, above all, the need to justify and show the managerial capacity and success (or failure) of the military authorities. As a contrast, sales sub hasta and corona are almost unanimously presented as efficient rituals that enhanced visibility to the military authorities. Although their precise chronological origin is uncertain, their formation was certainly linked with the early phases of the Roman expansion in Italy. These ephemeral market environments were also conceived as ‘spaces of security’ that legitimised the transformation of praeda into divisible, accountable and monetary profit, whilst they secured the transfers of rights to an external acquisitor. They thus permitted the change of status of spoils into commodities. In the case of the venditio sub corona, a type of market structure that seemed to have been influenced by the Greek kykloi, the procedure also involved the collective enslavement of captives. The acceptance and normalisation of the military rituals of the sale sub hasta and corona explains their later adoption as a favoured system for the civil process leading to the sale of confiscated goods and private property, commonly known as sectio bonorum. Even if they took place outside of the Roman territory, sales of praeda controlled by the state provided not only a recognisable procedural framework model for civil auctions, but also the experience of an efficient and resilient redistribution system that had already demonstrated a remarkable level of adaptability to varied and adverse circumstances. The development of this institution and its compatibility with other forms of commercialisation benefited the state and the army alike, whilst encouraging broader economic interactions with private actors. Marta García Morcillo Durham University [email protected]

Spoils, Army Wages and Supplies in Rome’s Early Military Intervention in Hispania* Gerard Cabezas-Guzmán / Toni Ñaco del Hoyo I Introduction In 204 BCE, once Scipio Africanus had driven the Carthaginian armies out of Iberia (206) and following his election as consul for the following year, he turned his mind to planning the invasion of Africa. When describing those preparations, Livy includes a long digression on the Numidian prince Massinissa’s struggle for the leadership of the Massylians (Liv. 29.29–33). A faithful ally of Carthage during most of the Second Punic War, Massinissa defected to the Romans in 206, which set him at odds with Syphax, who controlled Western Numidia and who had thrown his lot in with Carthage. As a result of the pressure brought to bear by Syphax, Massinissa and his troops moved into territories controlled by the Carthaginians, where they dedicated most of their time to pillaging in order to pay their troops’ wages.1 The resulting spoils were transported to the coast, where they were sold to merchants who had arrived by sea for that very purpose. This was commonplace at the time, judging by the very precise account of this episode in Livy (29.31.11).2 Some years later, in 178, in a port close to Aquileia, merchants and Roman soldiers stationed in the vicinity were caught unawares by a withering attack launched by the Histrians (Liv. 41.1.2–5.3). The exchange with the

*

1 2

This research has been conducted thanks to the following grant: PID2021–124022NB-I00 (Agencia Estatal de Investigación). We wish to thank Saskia Roselaar and Marian Helm for their kind invitation to participate in both Bochum gatherings (2017 and 2018) of the “Spoils in the Roman Republic” project, and for all their support and feedback ever since. We are also indebted to Marleen Termeer for her help, and to John Rich for letting us read his own chapter in advance and making acute remarks on ours. All dates are BCE, unless otherwise stated. Armies formed by contingents raised from the Numidian tribes and by mercenaries: Coltelloni-­ Tranoy (2011) 308. Iamque adeo licenter eludebant ut ad mare devectam praedam venderent mercatoribus apellentibus naves ad id ipsum. On this episode, see Walsh (1965) 150; Smith (1993) 62–63; Amara (2013) 90–91. More generally, see also Cazeaux (2015).

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merchants in such ‘rear areas’ supplemented the regular provisions and the spoils that the legionaries received, attested by the reference to the supplies stored in the holds of several vessels moored in the harbour (Liv. 41.1.4).3 Both of these episodes allow us to posit the existence of a symbiotic relationship between apparently different phenomena: the results of ad hoc pillaging (i. e. spoils),4 both public and private supply requirements5 and finally the compensation for the military personnel involved in such actions.6 However, in this chapter the accent will be placed on the relationship between those three factors in a single geographical setting – the Iberian Peninsula – during the first fifty years of Roman military intervention. In the first half of the period, this area was the most westerly front of the war between Rome and Carthage, and was characterized by the ambivalent alliances that both Mediterranean powers established with the local populations and, especially, with rival factions among these.7 In the conflict’s aftermath, commanders were regularly dispatched to the two new provinces, Hispania Citerior and Hispania Ulterior. During the following decades, a series of military campaigns extended Roman domination to the peninsula’s interior and southern reaches, without any apparent order or planning. Notwithstanding this, everything seems to point to the fact that conditions were not yet ripe for adopting systematic, direct and regular measures for extracting resources, although these were doubtless plundered to finance the Hispanic campaigns and, subsequently, to obtain financial benefits for the aerarium at Rome, the generals involved in them and their armies.8

3 4 5 6 7

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Erdkamp (2010a) 138, expressing his doubts about the revolt of the Histrians; Briscoe (2012) 35–36, 38–39, who also mentions Ennius as Livy’s possible source. Tarpin (2000); Kay (2014) 21–42. Erdkamp (1998) 84–121; Roth (1999) 223–243; and more recently, see also Valdés (2017) 278– 364. For their part, the Carthaginians also had to meet their own logistic requirements: Klingbeil (2000) esp. 33–35. Cadiou (2008) 502–609; Bleckmann (2016) 85–86; Rosenstein (2016a) 116–119. García Riaza (2015); Richardson (2017). A paradigmatic case is that of the Ilergetes during the Second Punic War. There is plenty of evidence pointing to marked internal divisions among the Ilergetes, a populus inhabiting the north-eastern interior of Iberia. According to the literary sources, there were factions that pursued their struggle for internal political hegemony by seeking alliances with Rome or Carthage: Riera & Principal (2015) 63–65. Richardson (1986); Ñaco del Hoyo (2003); Cadiou (2008); Erdkamp (2010); García Riaza (2015); Ñaco del Hoyo (2019); France (2021) 127–148.

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II Costs and Benefits of Rome’s War against Carthage and its Aftermath (218–197) That intense period of warfare commenced in 218, when the Roman legions arrived in north-eastern Iberia to subdue the Carthaginian forces left by Hannibal before heading to Italy. The Hispanic front was swiftly transformed into a true “war in outer space”.9 Because they still lacked their own infrastructure in situ, the Roman legions ran the risk of supply shortages owing to the difficulties in creating and maintaining operational logistic structures in a region that was, by and large, uncharted. As will be seen, the deployment of Roman troops in Iberia required a navy and convoys capable of guaranteeing the provision of supplies from abroad – later on, a hybrid system would be resorted to with mixed results. At the same time, the considerable amount of spoils obtained after the capture of Carthago Nova led the Roman authorities to raise the need to manage these spoils, which because of their amount could not remain in the former Punic capital.10 To send the spoils obtained during those same campaigns abroad meant facing the risks associated with the physical transport of high-value goods.11 In the sources discussing these developments, accounts of these types of Iberian consignments are very few and far between, mainly boiling down to a general description of events in the wake of the capture of Saguntum (214) and Carthago Nova (209), after which illustrious prisoners were transported to Rome.12 Following the expulsion of the Punic armies from Iberia and after quelling the mutiny of Sucro (on the peninsula’s southwest coast) and the first revolt of the Ilergetes (206), Scipio Africanus left for Rome, were he deposited a total of 14,342 pounds

9 10

11

12

Vervaet & Ñaco del Hoyo (2007) 22–36, stressing the rise in the number of “extraordinary commands”, which in turn increased the pressure on the state institutions and, above all, on the ruling elites. According to Livy, the management of the substantial and varied spoils amassed in Carthago Nova in 209 – obviously including a vast amount of riches of a different nature, such as slaves, hostages, weapons, several ships and sails, esparto and other materials pertaining to navigation and the fleet’s equipment – was the task of the military quaestor C. Flaminius (cos. 187, pr. 193 Hispania Ulterior), who, together with Scipio, was in Carthago Nova at the time: Liv. 26.47 (esp. 8); 26.49.10; Walbank (1967) 219; Richardson (1986) 96; Coudry (2009b) 54–56. However, it was C. Laelius (cos. 190), Scipio’s legate and the commander of the fleet, who undertook the task of announcing the victory to the Senate, as well as transporting prisoners to Rome (Liv. 26.51.1–2; Plb. 10.18.2; 10.19.8). See Cadiou (2008) 490–493. Something similar occurred to L. Licinius Lucullus (cos 74) 150 years later, at the beginning of the Third Mithridatic War in 73, when he, according to Plutarch, marched into Mithridatic territory without the necessary supplies. Nonetheless, thanks to the abundant spoils that he had accumulated along the way, he continued his march very successfully, even going so far as to abandon part of the spoils for the lack of transport (Plut. Luc. 14); Keaveney (1992) 87. Liv. 26.51.2; Plb. 10.19.8; Sil. Pun. 15.260. Although Appian is the only source reporting that riches were also transported to Rome (Hisp. 23.91), Zonaras (9.3) explicitly remarks that no plunder was sent back home.

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of silver, in addition to an unspecified amount of silver coin, in the aerarium.13 Even more remarkable are the accounts of two consignments of Hispanic grain sent abroad in 203. By that time, the war front had shifted towards Africa and Italy had been freed from Hannibal’s invasion, which had lasted nearly fifteen years. First and foremost, clothing and grain were sent to Scipio from Sardinia, Sicily and Iberia, in addition to weapons from Sicily.14 According to Livy, the price of grain in Italy dropped a few months later as a result of the arrival of this product from Iberia. It is nonetheless surprising that Iberia was able to supply grain at such an early stage of Rome’s presence. In contrast, during the first decades of the second century the Roman provincial authorities relied on grain supplies from abroad, probably from Sardinia and Sicily, thanks to the “double tithes”.15 The strategic advantage of having a large military fleet, together with the necessary logistic support in the shape of convoys, had been one of the most important lessons that Rome had learnt during the First Punic War, when it faced – with a lot less experience – a colossal fleet in war around Sicily.16 In the case of the Iberian Peninsula, seabased logistic support continued to be essential. Owing to the limited range of warships, which had a moderate amount of stowage space, while being manned by large crews, it was necessary to fall back on a network of coastal enclaves capable of supplying them with fresh water, food and refuge for the night.17 That coastal network – providing the Roman fleets with havens and resources – connected the peninsula’s south and east coasts with the Gulf of Roses in the northeast, which in turn lay next to the Gulf of Lion in Provence, marking the halfway point on the journey to Italy. The north winds and prevailing currents in the Mediterranean forced ships coming from Gibraltar, North Africa or the peninsula’s southern seaboard to seek refuge on the Catalan coast on their way to the Gulf of Lion, for which reason it was essential to have safe ports or anchorages along the way.18 On reaching the peninsula, the Roman soldiers initially disembarked in the Republic’s sole allied port, the Greek colony of Emporion.19 In the following campaigns, new ports were established to defend the coast and to expedite the movement of supplies from the coast to the interior. Tarraco, founded in 218, became both a port of refuge

13 14 15 16 17 18

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Liv. 28.38.5. Liv. 30.3.2–3. Liv. 30.26.5. Erdkamp (2000) 67; Erdkamp (2010a) 137. See n. 87. Lazenby (1996a) 61–80; Loreto (2007) 45–74; Vacanti (2012) 59–154; Cabezas-Guzmán (2018). Rankov (1996) 49–52; Malissard (1994) 73; Álvarez-Ossorio (2008) 93; Ble (2015) 575. Ruiz de Arbulo (1984) 117; Cabezas-Guzmán & Ventós (2022). Similarly, according to Livy, during this same period Rome stepped up the building of defences around the ports on Italy’s western seaboard, as was the case in Puteoli (24.7.10), Casilinum (25.20.1–4) and even Victumulae, which were only operational during campaigns: 21.57.9–11. Plb. 3.76. 1–4; Liv. 21.32.3; 21.60–61; 26.19. Aquilué et al. (2006).

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and a redistribution point for resources.20 Very recently, archaeology has revealed the construction of the camp of La Palma (Nova Classis) in 217, very close to the mouth of the river Ebro.21 In addition, the Romans continued to control enclaves and cities such as Castrum Album (214),22 Saguntum (213), Carthago Nova (209) and Baria (208) further to the south.23 Although there certainly must have been other anchorages along the peninsula’s eastern seaboard, the most relevant enclaves formed part of a port network. These ports were located approximately a day’s sailing away from each other, with medium-sized vessels plying the seas between them. A system of port warehouses, like that described above, reduced the armies’ dependence on baggage trains, which could be particularly cumbersome when vast armies were fielded. Thanks to their coastal location, these enclaves not only interacted with their hinterlands, but also facilitated the resupply in situ of Rome’s land and naval forces.24 Between 218 and 215, various fleets carrying supplies were sent to Iberia, whereas the information available for the period between 211 and 209 is sketchier. These consignments seem to have coincided with the arrival of troops (218, 216, 211 and 209), the capture of ships by Carthage (217), the election of new consuls (216), relevant debates in the Senate (211) and exceptional cases such as a severe shortage of supplies (215).25 Despite the lack of available information on the number of cargo ships forming a convoy, it is generally recognized that a Roman fleet normally consisted of between twenty and thirty warships during this period. According to Livy, this was sufficient to escort some 200 cargo ships,26 although at no time is the freight capacity of those naves onerariae specified. It is a much harder task to calculate the number of ships necessary to supply the legions throughout the Second Punic War, owing to the fact that shipping activities ceased in the winter.27 Although the freight capacity of such ships varied

20

Liv. 21.60; 21.61.4 and 11; Plb. 3.76.12–3; 3.95.1–5; Liv. 22.19.4–5; 22.22.1–4; 26.17.2–3; 26.20.1–2. Ruiz de Arbulo (2006). 21 Liv. 22.21.1–6. Noguera (2012) 270–272; Valdés (2017) 397. 22 Thanks to Livy’s detailed description, in the case of Castrum Album (24.41.3–4), for instance, we have been able to gain a better understanding of the functioning of these enclaves that had mooring and storage areas, in addition to authentic reconstructions of their hinterlands: Cerezo Andreo (2018) 150. 23 Liv. 24.42.9–11; 26.49. Although Castrum Album (Akra Leuké) fell under Roman control in 214, the nearby fortifications of Tossal de Manises, regarded as a “Barcid” stronghold destined to protect the route to Carthago Nova, were not captured until the campaign launched by Scipio against the city (210–209): Valdés (2017) 124. See also López Castro & Martínez Hahnmüller (2012) 329; Olcina, Sala & Abad (2016); Ramallo & Ros Sala (2016). 24 Erdkamp (1998) 47; Roth (1999) 159–163; Salido (2014) 474; Valdés (2017) 61. 25 Plb. 3.76.1–4, 3.97.3, 3.106.7; Liv. 21.32.3; 22.11.6; 22.22.1–3; 26.2.4; 26.17.1–3; 26.19.10–12; 23.48.4–6. 26 Liv. 30.24. In this case, the ratio was 10:1, which was repeated (400 supply ships and 40 warships) in Scipio Africanus’ invasion of North Africa: Liv. 29.25.6–9. 27 Veg. Epit. 4.39.

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depending on their design, Roth offers an estimate of between 30 and 40 tons.28 If this is accepted, 200 ships with a freight capacity of 30 tons would be required to transport 6,320 tons of grain (912,500 modii of wheat) to supply 40,000 troops for six months.29 These figures coincide with the requirements of the Roman legions deployed on the Iberian Peninsula in 218: 22,000 infantrymen and 2,200 cavalrymen, together with 60 warships with around 18,000 crew members.30 During the first four years of the conflict, the Roman armies required abundant supplies from abroad, insofar as the captured spoils were insufficient to defray campaign costs.31 Between 215 and 211, there is no information on the arrival of supplies from overseas, although the spoils would hardly have covered the expenditure.32 Indeed, the financial crisis unleashed in Italy shortly after the Roman defeat at Cannae, along with the tenuous control of Sicily and Sardinia,33 prevented the Roman armies deployed on the Iberian Peninsula from receiving regular external aid for quite a while. This is borne out by a controversial passage in Livy indicating that the state had to take out a private loan to supply the armies deployed there. In 215, the Scipios posted a letter to Rome to warn the senators that they needed cash to pay wages, in addition to clothing and provisions for their soldiers and the allied crews of their fleets.34 Given the precarious financial situation in Rome at the time, the Senate urged them to obtain in situ the necessary resources to pay their troops, a policy that Scipio Africanus surely continued to implement, as will be seen further on in the case of the double deditio of the Ilergetes in 206 and 205. With respect to clothing and provisions, according to Livy, in light of 28

29

30 31

32 33 34

Roth (1999) 192–193; Valdés (2017) 182–183. According to other authors, these ships had a freight capacity of up to 90 tons, as was the case with medium-sized vessels such as the wreck of Grand Congloué, and between 325 and 425 tons in the case of the Madrague de Giens wreck: Malissard (1994) 152. For a much later period, Casson (1971) 334 notes the use of the Polykopon in Roman Egypt from the third to sixth centuries AD, a vessel used for transporting grain or provisions for the army, capable of stowing between 12.5 and 25 tons in its holds. Roth (1999) 192–193. In addition to wheat, these ships also transported other foodstuffs, equipment and horses, comprising a fleet whose initial aim was to dismantle the Carthaginians’ logistic networks in Iberia, controlling above all the north of the peninsula: Valdés (2017) 297; Cabezas-Guzmán (2021). Plb. 3. 41.2–6; Liv. 21.17; App. Hisp. 6.14. Plb. 3.76. 1–4; Liv. 21.32.3.218: 10 talents of silver surrendered by the Lacetani (Liv. 21.61.11); the sack of Cissis and the Carthaginian military quarters, and the capture of 2,000 prisoners (Liv. 21.60.8; 21.61.11; Plb. 3.76.12); a financial penalty imposed on the Ilergetes (Plb. 3.76.5–7; Liv. 21.60.9). 217: the sack of the areas surrounding Carthago Nova, Onusa, Loguntica and Ebussus (Liv. 22.20.3–11). 215: the defeat of Hasdrubal’s army (Plb. 3.98.1–3.99.7; Liv. 22.22.10–17; 23.29.1–15). 213: the sale of the inhabitants of the capital of the Turdetani (Liv. 24.42.9–11.); the sale of the enemies of Saguntum (Zon. 9.3–4); the defeat of the Punic armies (Liv. 23.49.11–13; 24.41.10; 24.42.4–5 and 8). In 216–215, the praetors of Sicily and Sardinia-Corsica wrote to the Senate to warn its members that they would not be able to pay nor provide for their troops much longer: Liv. 23.21.2–6; 23.32.9; 23.37.7; 23.38.12–13; Plb. 3.75.7. Liv. 23.48.5: sed pecuniam in stipendium vestimentaque et frumentum exercitui et sociis navalibus omnia deesse.

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its financial straits the state decided to outsource that service, a contract for which three private societates submitted tenders, companies that would subsequently provide the Scipios with those supplies (Liv. 23.48.4–49.4).35 On the other hand, from 211 to 209 the arrival of reinforcements – with their respective wages and supplies – was supplemented by substantial additional income deriving from the spoils and the sale of prisoners, well documented in the literary sources throughout this period.36 As a matter of fact, the discovery of Roman coinage in the camp of Nova Classis, at the mouth of the Ebro, indicates that it arrived from Italy on a fairly regular basis during the best part of the conflict, together with cash from Ebusus, Gades, Emporion and Massalia. Similarly, the large number of coins of Hispanic-­Punic provenance recorded in the same camp is also noteworthy, for it suggests that they formed part of the distribution of the spoils – in the same camp – obtained from pillaging. A similar phenomenon may be observed in the Roman camp and in the actual battlefield of Baecula (208, southern Iberia), where Roman and Punic coins recently minted with local precious metal circulated widely among the soldiers.37 Later on, in 206, encouraged by the rumours circulating about Scipio’ possible death, the Ilergetes revolted with the Lacetani and a number of Celtiberians,38 coinciding with the mutiny of 8,000 Roman soldiers stationed at the camp of Sucro. The main bones of contention were their unpaid wages and the inactivity during the past few months, which had prevented them from obtaining war spoils. With Scipio absent, some of the legionaries exploited the power vacuum to sack the local populations in the vicinity of the Roman camp.39 In order to quell the mutiny, Scipio decided to punish the rebels, compensating the rest with the distribution of the overdue stipendium. He achieved this by sending exactores to extort money from those same nearby populations, which Livy describes as civitates stipendiariae.40 After suppressing the revolt of the Ilergetes, Scipio demanded a cash compensation from them, which, according 35

There is a certain amount of debate on the authenticity of this episode as a whole. Erdkamp (1998) 114–117, – whose opinion we share – has called it “a dubious story”, indicating that it might be an extemporary extrapolation of Livy, insofar as it reflects an implausible reality – that of the loan – at the time, given the circumstances in which the events unfolded. See also Crawford (1985) 60–61; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 124–125; (2011) 386–391. Less sceptical: Torrent (2014); Chaves & Pliego (2015) 159–160, 173; Kay (2014) 15. 36 211: the defeat of the armies sent to the Ebro (Liv. 25.39.12–16). 209: the capture of Carthago Nova (Liv. 26.47.1–10; Plb. 10.17.6–16; 10.19.1–2; App. Hisp.23; Sil. Pun. 15. 260; Oros. 4.18; Frontin. 2.11.5). 208: the spoils of the Battle of Baecula (Liv. 27.19.1–3; Plb. 10.39.7–9, 40.10; Sil. Pun. 15.480). 207: the sale of prisoners from Orongis (Liv. 28.3.2; 15–16; Zon. 9.8.8). 37 Noguera (2012) 276–281; Chaves & Pliego (2015) 171–172; Valdés (2017) 256, 415. Concerning particularly Baecula’s coin findings, see García-Bellido et al. (2015) 400–407. 38 Liv. 28.24.1–4; App. Hisp. 34; 37; Zon. 9.10; Plb. 11.29. 39 Zon. 9.10; Liv. 28.24.5–8; 28.24.16. Bleckmann (2016) 85–87. 40 Liv. 28.25.9–10; Plb. 11.25.9; 11.26.1–3; Zon. 9.10; App. Hisp. 34. Walbank (1967) 306–308. When M. Porcius Cato arrived in Emporion a decade later, he implemented the same policy of pillaging the surrounding populations (Liv. 34.9.13; 13.2–3).

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to Livy, he then used to pay the wages of his own troops at the end of that campaign. Therefore, as before, there was a direct relationship between the product of the spoils and military expenditure, each fuelling the other.41 According to a recent study of ours, when the Latin sources describe the levies imposed on the Hispani, employing terms such as stipendiarius as an adjective and stipendiarii as a noun, their aim was always associated with the upkeep of the armies on campaign.42 When, in 206, Scipio returned to Rome to claim a triumph, which he would ultimately obtain after his victory over Carthage five years later,43 he dispatched two of his lieutenants – L. Cornelius Lentulus and L. Manlius Acidinus – to Iberia.44 Following their recent defeat by Scipio, in 205 the Ilergetes led a new coalition, including the Ausetani and other neighbouring tribes, against Rome’s allies in the region, although the uprising was ultimately crushed by the new Roman commanders and their legions, after inflicting a large number of casualties.45 The conditions of the Ilergetes’ new surrender were significantly tougher than the year before and of a distinctively military character. According to Livy, several forms of compensation served to cover the Roman legions’ actual needs for pay and supplies. As to the exact terms of surrender, firstly Mandonius and some other Ilergetan leaders involved in the recent uprising were handed over to the Roman generals, according to their demands before the tribe’s council. Then, a double indemnity (duplex stipendium) was exacted, meaning a compensation for the Roman soldiers’ wages – double in comparison with the terms of surrender set out the year before. Additionally, both commanders demanded a sixmonth supply of corn (frumentum sex mensum), which should be understood as provisions for the next spring-summer campaign, as well as clothing explicitly collected for the armies (sagaque et togae exercitui). Local hostages were also taken in order to secure the Ilergetes’ allegiance in the coming years.46 Liv. 28.34, offering an account of the Ilergetan deditio and especially Liv. 28.34.11: Ita Mandonius pecunia tantummodo imperata ex qua stipendium militi praestari posset. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 134–136; Cadiou (2008) 497–500. 42 Ñaco del Hoyo (2019), analysing the terminological use (and abuse) of stipendiarius as an adjective, and stipendiarii as a noun. 43 On returning to Rome, the riches that he deposited in the aerarium amounted, according to Livy, to 14,342 pounds of silver, in addition to an unspecified quantity of silver coin: Liv. 28.38.5. That amount, however, was only part of the spoils obtained in Carthago Nova in 209: Liv. 26.47; Plb. 10.19. The remainder was probably used for the distribution of spoils and the pay of the stipendium to Scipio’s own troops: Tarpin (2009) 95–96. At any rate, the riches obtained by Scipio from his Spanish campaign and, subsequently, in Africa at the end of the war, enabled him to make vast public expenditures and investments in equity and in his own political career: Kay (2014) 35–37. 44 Liv. 29.1–19–3.7. Both L. Cornelius Lentulus (cos. 199) and L. Manlius Acidinus (pr. 212) were privati holding imperium: Richardson (1986) 62–79; Brennan (2000, vol. 1) 159–161; Vervaet & Ñaco del Hoyo (2007) 26. 45 App. Hisp. 38; Diod. Sic. 26.22. See Moret (1997) 156–157. 46 Liv. 29.3.5. Muñiz Coello (1982) 42–45; Richardson (1986) 72–73; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 140–142; Cadiou (2008) 500–501; Chaves & Pliego (2015) 172–178; Ñaco del Hoyo (2019) 84–85; France (2021) 134–135. 41

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As to Scipio Africanus’ lieutenants, they finally returned to Rome in 200 and 199, where they deposited significant amounts of spoils in the aerarium. Both inventories included unwrought gold and silver, in addition to a large quantity of silver coin, a state of affairs that would be repeated over the coming decades.47 III Insurrections, Mines and Rome’s Strategies on Spoils in the Years 197–171 The aforementioned “peace accords” not only eliminated the military threat posed by the Ilergetes once and for all, but also secured their allegiance to Rome on a permanent basis. In fact, in an increasingly unsettled atmosphere that ultimately led most of the other Iberian tribes to stage a massive uprising in 197, the Ilergetes were the only faithful allies of Rome on the peninsula. Two years later, however, their chief Bilistages sent ambassadors to M. Porcius Cato (cos. 195), who had recently landed in Emporion with the mission to crush the Iberian revolt that had broken out two years before, claiming that their towns were surrounded by enemies and urging the consul to provide them with military support. However, Cato could not afford to do so at the very beginning of the season, without jeopardising his entire campaign (Liv. 34.11). According to Livy, the general was willing to come to his allies’ rescue in principle, but he did not want to divide his own forces. In order to buy time, Bilistages’ ambassadors were made to believe that military aid was on its way by sea.48 Despite the lack of support in situ, after a year of intense military campaigning (195–194) and the combined efforts of the forces of the praetors of both provinciae and a powerful consular army under the leadership of Cato, the last embers of the revolt were stamped out.49 There is information on five contributions of spoils to the aerarium on the part of the Roman generals somehow involved in the repression of the rebellion, including the consul himself (196–194).50 The fact that it was a relatively short, 47 48 49 50

200: L. Cornelius Lentulus, cos. 199, (Hispania), ovatio: 43,000 pounds of silver, 2,450 pounds of gold and a donativum of 120 asses, Liv. 31.20.7; 199: L. Manlius Acidinus, pr. 212 (Hispania): 1,200 pounds of silver and 30 pounds of gold, Liv. 32.7.4. Liv. 34.11–12. See Cadiou (2008) 36–37; Riera & Principal (2015) 60, 65. Richardson (1986) 80–94; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 145–151; Cadiou (2008) 36–37. 196: Cn. Cornelius Blasio (Hispania Citerior), ovatio: 20,000 pounds of silver, 1,515 pounds of gold and 34,500 denarii (Liv. 33.27.2); 196: L. Stertinius (Hispania Ulterior): 50,000 pounds of silver (Liv. 33.27.3–4); from the proceeds of the spoils (de manubiis) he erected two arches in Rome’s public areas. Both generals returned to Rome late in 197 or early in 196 and perhaps had never been fully involved in the repression of the uprising. 195: M. Helvius (Hispania Citerior): ovatio, 14,732 pounds of silver, 17,023 denarii and 119,439 Oscan denarii (Liv. 34.10.3–4); 195: Q. Minucius Thermus (Hispania Ulterior), triumph: 34,800 pounds of silver, 73,000 denarii and 278,000 Oscan denarii (Liv. 34.10.6–7); 194: M. Porcius Cato (Hispania Citerior): 25,000 pounds of silver, 123,000 denarii, 540,000 Oscan denarii; from the proceeds of the spoils he distributed a donativum of 270 asses to each soldier and thrice that amount to his cavalrymen (Liv. 34.46.2–3). Such “Oscan denarii” or argentum oscense have often been related to the plentiful Iberian imitations of the Em-

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but militarily intense, period51 makes it possible to identify the accumulation of spoils of war characterised by a large variety of precious metals: raw metals, unspecified precious metals, objects containing precious metals such as jewellery – crowns, torques, etc. – and finally both Roman and local coinage.52 Inventories of the wealth conveyed to Rome by the generals involved in successful campaigns outside Italy between c. 200 and the early 160s are to be found mostly in Livy and less frequently in Polybius. Sometimes, such wealth was displayed publicly, when a successful general was granted an ovatio or a triumph by the Senate. On these occasions a considerable amount was deposited in the aerarium, except for the donativa that generals often distributed among their troops out of the proceeds of the spoils. Livy’s accounts are particularly rich in details, providing us with information not only on the spoils amassed during fixed-term military campaigns and displayed in triumphal processions, but also the occasional indemnities paid by powerful Mediterranean rivals – sometimes in several instalments – after their defeat in a major war.53 Shortly before returning to Rome, a famous passage in Livy mentions that “with peace restored to the province, he [Cato] imposed heavy taxes on the iron and silver mines, and through them the province grew richer every day” (Liv. 34.21.7).54 There has been much debate on the consul’s active participation in the management of the peninsula’s mineral resources during his military campaign and especially on when the Romans actually began to exploit them.55 It has been frequently contended that the mining districts of Carthago Nova and Sierra Morena (Hispania Ulterior), formerly worked by the Carthaginians, were controlled and exploited by the provincial authorities from the moment that they fell into Roman hands, either directly or indirectly

51

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porion drachmae in circulation during the Second Punic War up until c. 170. See Crawford (1985) 86–87, 95; García-Bellido (1993) 113. Only during the last year of the campaign (195–194) did Cato achieve the surrender of the socalled Emporitani hispani (Liv. 34.9.13; 13.2–3; 14.1–16.4–5; App. Hisp. 40; Zon. 9.17), the Lacetani and the Bergistani (Liv. 34.16.8–10; 21.1–6; Front. Strat. 3.10.1); of several enemies in Hispania Citerior who were made to surrender their weapons and pull down the walls of their cities (Liv. 34.15.5 and 11), in addition to the defeat of the Sedetani, the Ausetani and the Suessetani (Liv. 34.20.1). See especially García Riaza (1999). For a general overview, see Frank (1933) 126–138, the information available diminishing significantly during the following period (150–88) 230–231; Coudry (2009b) 65–79 (esp. the tables); Kay (2014) 29–35; Taylor (2017) 161–162; Taylor (2020a) 17–20; see the latter three for an assessment of the reliability of the figures appearing in the written sources. On Livy’s dependence on the “Annalists” and, in particular, Valerius Antias, see also Laroche (1977) 364–365, 367–368. See also Rich in this volume. Pacata provincia vectigalia magna instituit ex ferrariis argentariisque, quibus tum institutis locupletior in dies provincia fuit, transl. Loeb (ed. Yardley 2017), translating vectigalia as “taxes” instead of “revenues” as in older translations (e. g. Sage’s 1935, also for Loeb). Richardson (1986) 90–91; Domergue (1990) 229–252; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 118–123, 149–151; and more recently Rowan (2013) 362–366; Kay (2014) 44–54.

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through private contractors – individually or as partners in societates publicanorum. To substantiate this, reference is usually made to the huge quantities of precious metals – minted or raw – figuring in the inventories of spoils apprehended in Iberia.56 In fact, according to the figures offered by T. Frank, mining operations made up a very large part of the global income coming from the Iberian Peninsula from 200 to 150. In his opinion, before 179 this income had been included in the spoils that were regularly deposited in the aerarium, while thereafter the introduction of new vectigalia and portoria by decision of the censors M. Fulvius Nobilior and M. Aemilius Lepidus57 opened up new opportunities for the publicani in mining concessions.58 Although these overall figures have been qualified by Taylor in a recent study,59 Kay is of the opinion that the passages in Diodorus and Polybius relating to the intensive exploitation of the mines around Carthago Nova in the mid-second century point to Cato’s active involvement in the initial organisational phases.60 Additional arguments have recently made their way into the debate. One of these has to do with the analysis of lead isotopes discovered in Greenland ice that, according to a number of authors, correspond to the period during which Roman mining operations on the Iberian Peninsula were intensive enough to have left traces, perhaps as early as the mid-second century.61 Nonetheless, it is important not to overlook the historical context of war stress in which the consul Cato launched his campaign against the Hispani in 195–194, which was particularly unfavourable for adopting administrative measures pertaining to the future management of the Spanish mines.62 As Domergue suggests, the passage in Livy 56

García Riaza (1999) 131–136 (tables), specifying the silver and gold, raw, minted, or in the form of objects or jewellery (crowns, torques, etc.), mentioned in the literary sources as coming from Iberia between 201 and 140–139, especially in the first third of the second century. 57 Liv. 40.51.8. 58 Frank (1933) 154–155. 59 Taylor (2017) 166–167. 60 Diod. Sic. 5.36.3–4 refers – in a very general fashion – to the management of the mines by Italians. For his part, Plb. 34.8–11 (and esp. 34.9, quoted in Str. 3.2.10) mentions 40,000 miners who produced 25,000 drachmae per day for the Romans, Walbank (1979) 605–606. There is plentiful literature in this regard: for the state of the question, see n. 57, Kay (2014) 49–54, esp. 53, and more recently Díaz Ariño & Antolinos Marín (2019). 61 Rowan (2013) 363; Kay (2014) 46–48. Likewise, there are recent studies such as the abstract of a paper submitted by Westner et al. (2017) to the conference Goldschmidt 2017, organised by the European Association of Geochemistry and the Geochemical Society. As can be gleaned from this abstract, the study involved analysing the lead contained in the silver alloy of Roman coins circulating after the outbreak of the Second Punic War, noting the metal’s probable Hispanic provenance. However, the evidence is not sufficiently conclusive to demonstrate intensive mining activities on the Iberian Peninsula soon after the initial years of Roman control. For example, ­McConnell et al. (2018) 5727 also associate the data on lead isotopes in Greenland ice not only with mining, but also with the evolution of warfare since the end of the third century. 62 “He did not after all come to Spain to reorganise the administration; he came to fight a war and to win victories,” Richardson (1986) 93. We elaborated on this idea some years ago: Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 149–151, as have subsequent analyses: Rowan (2013) 362–364, 370, as will be seen further on.

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must be related to a fragment of the Origines, in which Cato himself mentions the existence of iron and silver mines, plus a mountain of salt in an area of Hispania Citerior, apparently a fair distance from Carthago Nova and the mining districts of Sierra Morena in Hispania Ulterior.63 Those magna vectigalia are to be translated as “huge resources”, without deducing from this further tax implications. On the contrary, both passages only mention that, in a tough and fierce military campaign, the consul, before leaving for Rome with abundant spoils – and presumably a long train of prisoners of war as slaves – benefitted from the mineral wealth of areas in Hispania Citerior, perhaps not that distant from the place where his armies had wintered. If that were indeed the case, those mines would have been worked in all likelihood by the local population.64 Secondly, and despite the data provided by the lead isotopes in Greenland ice, the archaeological and epigraphic evidence insists that the Roman exploitation of the major Hispanic mining districts (silver and iron) did not take off until the final decades of the second and the beginning of the first century. There is reliable data on mining activities at several archaeological sites, primarily in the vicinity of Carthago Nova and Sierra Morena, in addition to the stamps of societates on lead ingots coming from shipwrecks linked to the exportation of this Hispanic metal. Therefore, it is conceivable that in the wake of the major Celtiberian-Lusitanian wars, in the last third of the second century, Roman control of certain regions in the south and southeast of the peninsula led to a greater presence of Italic negotiatores and publicani, keen to exploit and commercialise this new source of wealth. The historical context and the archaeological and epigraphic evidence regarding the exploitation of the mines seems to point to a later period than previously assumed.65 Lastly, a number of very recent archaeological and numismatic studies, such as the one performed by Heras Mora on mining and its association with coinage in extensive areas of Hispania Ulterior, has confirmed that the Romans showed an early interest in appropriating the mines previously exploited by the local population. However, these studies have also ruled out the early and systematic exploitation of the mines in the southern parts of the peninsula, arguing instead that this commenced during the last half, and more specifically the end, of the second century.66 It is unlikely that Cato adopted measures favouring the publicani in Hispania, especially when bearing in mind his notorious dislike of private contractors, as was evinced in Emporion at the start of his campaign in 195, when he prevented privati from contin63 64 65

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Liv. 34.21.7; Cat. Orig. Fr. 93P. Martínez Gázquez (1974) 148–149; Domergue (1990) 183–184. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 150; Rowan (2013) 370. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 115–129 (esp. 123), with previous bibliography. The most recent works confirm the second, or the beginning of the first, century as the oldest period recorded for the majority of Roman mining operations in Hispania: Arboledas (2008) 72–73; Díaz Ariño (2008) 275–291; Fabre et al. (2012) 53–54; Gutiérrez Soler (2012) 112; Antolinos, Díaz Ariño & Guillén (2013) 104– 118; Rowan (2013) 362–366. Heras Mora (2018) 405–516, esp. 468, 495–505.

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uing to supply his legions. In spite of the fact that, according to Cato, the involvement of intermediaries was unnecessary when soldiers could “live off the land”, this episode shows that even at this time the presence of negotiatores involved in provisioning the armies deployed overseas was probably no exception.67 As demonstrated by the events transpiring in 206–205, amassing spoils that could then be exported to Rome depended, to a great extent, on military victories which, in turn, required well-provisioned, adequately paid and properly rewarded armies. All of this increased the pressure on the local populations, in the shape of formally established reparations, their obligation to participate in military operations as auxiliaries or, as had occurred close to Cato’s camp in Emporion, the pillaging to which they were ultimately subjected by the legionaries.68 Finally, in 194, the now ex-consul Cato returned to Rome, where he assured the Senate that the region had been pacified and was granted a triumph for his military achievements.69 Nevertheless, a few months later new rebellions broke out, thus obliging the praetors assigned to both ­provinciae – P. Cornelius Scipio (Nasica) in Hispania Ulterior and Sex. Digitius in Hispania Citerior – to intervene with mixed success.70 During the following decades, situations very similar to those described above arose, which were characterised by brief peace settlements that soon fell apart. For instance, after having pacified large areas of Celtiberia during his time as governor of Hispania Citerior in 182–181, Q. Fulvius Flaccus (cos. 179) dedicated his time to the indiscriminate plundering of his provincia during the last few months of his term of office. Once he had returned to Rome, the outbreak of new conflicts undermined some of the arguments that he had deployed before the Senate to convince its members of the recent pacification of Hispania Citerior, with an eye to being awarded a triumph.71 Ti. Sempronius Gracchus (cos. 177), his successor in 180–179, managed to impose favourable conditions on the terms of surrender (deditio) of some Celtiberians. Although his actions led to a certain degree of stability in large areas of Hispania Citerior until the outbreak of the Celtiberian War in 153, the entire region was far from being

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Liv. 34.9.12–13. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 147–148; Erdkamp (2010a) 136–139, for whom there is insufficient evidence to identify these characters as publicani who had won tenders in Rome and for whom these negotiatores were mere middlemen who earned a living from the overseas supply of military provisions. See also Rosenstein (2016a) 116. 68 Liv. 34.9.11–12. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 147–151. 69 Liv. 34.46.3; Plut. Cat. Mai. 19.4; Fast. Tr. (194–193), Degrassi (1954) 102. Richardson (1986) 95– 96. 70 App. Hisp. 41; Liv. 35.1.1–4. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 151–152; Cadiou (2008) 101. However, the commanders sent to Hispania were not always successful, as was the case with the praetor of Hispania Citerior Sex. Digitius (194–193) who suffered an ignominious defeat at the hands of the Hispani: Liv. 35.1.1–2; Oros. 4.20.16. Clark (2017) 202–206. 71 179: Liv. 40.33.9; 40.35.11–14; 176: Liv. 41.26.

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pacified.72 In fact, similar to what had happened in 194, rather than a tangible reality, peace appears to have formed part of a certain rhetoric – in this case, as reflected in Livy73 – whose purpose was to persuade the Senate to grant Cato, Flaccus and Gracchus a triumph. As a matter of fact, from 194 to 171 it can be observed that the military successes that were eventually exhibited as merits in subsequent triumphs had often been achieved during the last months of the incumbent’s term of office, for all intents and purposes to earn the necessary glory and as a way of swiftly enriching himself and, in turn, his own legions.74 An analysis of the inventories appearing in Livy shows that most of the Hispanic spoils reaching the aerarium after Cato’s campaign were deposited there between 193 and 178,75 while this only happened three times thereafter (in 175, 174 and 168).76 Very little had changed in the two decades following the Second Punic War regarding the management of the resources available to the Roman generals while in office and afterwards. The balance between the spoils on the one hand, and the supplies and wages of the armies that were obliged to remain overseas for several campaigns on the other, was still precarious to say the least. In 185, for example, L. Manlius Acidinus (cos. 179, pr.  188), hitherto the governor of Hispania Citerior, returned to Rome with part of the accumulated spoils. Notwithstanding the fact that he had not discharged all of his troops, he asked the Senate, convened for the occasion in the Temple of Bellona, for a triumph. During the session, Acidinus announced – in a rather odd statement – that his 72

There is a wealth of literature in this regard: Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 159–163. See also García Riaza (2015) 134–136 (“The Gracchan agreements”). 73 Lavan (2017) 106–112. 74 This idea is further developed in Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 151–166. 75 193: P. Cornelius Scipio Nasica (Hispania Ulterior): unspecified spoils taken from the Lusitanians; 191: M. Fulvius Nobilior (Hispania Ulterior), ovatio: 12,000 pounds of silver, 127 pounds of gold, and 130,000 denarii (Liv. 36.21.11); 189: L. Aemilius Paulus: gold (Plb. 31.22; Plut. Paul.4.3); 185: L. Manlius Acidinus (Hispania Citerior), ovatio: 16,300 pounds of silver, 132 pounds of gold, and 52 golden crowns (Liv. 39.29.6); 185: Q. Fabius (quaestor) (Hispania Citerior): 10,000 pounds of silver and 80 pounds of gold (Liv. 39.29.6); 184: C. Calpurnius Piso (Hispania Citerior), triumph: 83 gold crowns and 12,000 pounds of silver (Liv. 39.42.4); 182: A. Terentius Varro (Hispania Citerior), ovatio: 9,320 pounds of silver, 82 pounds of gold, 67 gold crowns and the sale of slaves (Liv. 39.42.1; 40.16.11); 180: Q. Fulvius Flaccus (Hispania Citerior), triumph: 124 gold crowns, 31 pounds of gold, some (unspecified) pounds of silver and 173,200 Oscan denarii from the ravaging and looting of Celtiberian lands and towns such as Urbicua (Liv. 40. 16. 8–9; 32.8; 39.1; 43.6–7; 49.1); 178: Ti. Sempronius Gracchus (Hispania Citerior), triumph: 40,000 pounds of silver, donativa were distributed among his troops, spoils from Alce and Celtiberia, spoils from 130 Celtiberian towns, spoils from Certima and silver valued at 2.4 million HS (Liv. 40.49.1; 50.4; 41.7.2–3; 47.9–10); 178: L. Postumius Albinus (Hispania Ulterior), triumph: 20,000 pounds of silver and donativa were also distributed among his troops (Liv. 41.7.2–3). 76 174: App. Claudius Centho (Hispania Citerior, Celtiberia), ovatio: 10,000 pounds of silver and 5,000 pounds of gold (Liv. 41.28.6–7); 168: M. Claudius Marcellus (Hispania): 10 pounds of gold and silver valued at 1 million HS (Liv. 45.4.1). Livy’s report of the triumph of M. Titinius Curvus (attested by the Fasti in 174) is lost in a lacuna: Liv. 41.26.1. We owe this latter information to John Rich.

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military quaestor Q. Fabius would be depositing the rest of the spoils in the aerarium.77 Since Livy’s wording is rather vague, it has been speculated that Fabius might have been delayed in Iberia for some reason. In view of one of the tasks of military quaestors, Fabius could have dedicated the last weeks of his term of office to distribute the stipendium among the troops who Acidinus had not discharged in Hispania and who therefore had to pass the winter far from Italy, waiting for their new commanders to take up office.78 In any case, as it was impossible to verify – as was always the case – whether or not his provincia had been completely pacified, Acidinus had to make do with the celebration of an ovatio, during which he displayed a conspicuous amount of wealth.79 According to a famous Livian passage, in 180 some of Q. Fulvius Flaccus’ legati attempted to convince the Senate that it was unnecessary to send the stipendium and frumentum to their own armies in Hispania Citerior that year – as had been customary hitherto, as explicitly acknowledged in the passage – presumably because the general preferred to obtain those resources in situ with an eye to making the Senate more amenable to granting him a triumph.80 This passage is one of the main arguments, along with the numismatic evidence, deployed by Richardson to defend Gracchus’ direct intervention in the fiscal organisation of the Hispanic stipendium.81 In his view, such a new direct tax was regularly collected from the Hispanic stipendiarii in order to pay the legionaries’ wages, having gradually replaced the old ad hoc levies imposed for the same purpose, such as those that Scipio Africanus demanded from the towns in the vicinity of the Roman camp of Sucro in 206. However, as we have discussed in greater detail elsewhere, the above-mentioned treaties that Gracchus brokered with the Celtiberians were hardly any different from those of Cato or any other former Roman general as to their provisions: gathering spoils, imposing war reparations and taking hostages, in addition to the recruitment of local auxiliaries. The levies that Gracchus collected from other Iberian tribes during his two years in Hispania Citerior, and thenceforth the Roman attitude towards the Spanish stipendiarii and their assets, followed a similar ad hoc pattern. Indeed, the recruitment of Celtiberian externa auxilia was the only provision originally imposed by Gracchus that remained in force for the next twenty-five years, until just before the outbreak of the Celtiberian Wars.82 77 78 79 80 81

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Liv. 39.29.4–5. Briscoe (2008) 322–223. Muñiz Coello (1982) 61; Richardson (1986) 117; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 153–154; Coudry (2009b) 55; Rich (2014) 228; Kay (2014) 51. Manlius Acidinus displayed 52 golden crowns, along with 132 pounds of gold and 16,300 of silver, while Q. Fabius deposited 10,000 pounds of silver and 80 of gold in the aerarium: Liv. 39.29.6–7. Liv. 40.35.4. Richardson (1986) 121–122 defends Gracchus’ leading role in the creation of the stipendium as a direct tax in cash, basing this on the opinion of Crawford (1985) 95–96, who places the first issues of Iberian denarii (with the object of paying taxes) in the second quarter of the second century or shortly afterwards. See n. 72. As with Cadiou (2008) 498, we believe that the modus operandi of the consul M. Porcius Cato (195–194) and the praetor T. Sempronius Gracchus (180–179) in Hispania followed a very

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There is scant information on the supply chains of the Roman armies during this period. As the century unfolded, the legions and their auxiliary troops began to penetrate more deeply into unexplored areas of the peninsula and, therefore, required increasingly more complex logistic infrastructures, in addition to relying on the local populations previously subjected. In 189, L. Baebius, the praetor-elect of Hispania Ulterior, was killed in an ambush in southern Gaul, when he was on his way to Hispania, a fate similar to that befalling N. Fabius Buteo (pr. 173).83 Both events show the huge risks that movements – of men, supplies and of course spoils – between Italy and Hispania (and vice versa) posed even for well-prepared armies. While the land route crossed Gallic territory, which was controlled in a very perfunctory or non-existent manner, the sea route was also dangerous due to the currents, the coastal terrain and the weather, plus the growing domination of the Ligurian and Balearic pirates over broad stretches of the northern Mediterranean, as had also been the case during the Second Punic War.84 According to Erdkamp, during the early days of the Roman presence on the Iberian Peninsula the Republican armies were incapable of meeting their food requirements by solely living off the land, so that they also required more or less regular supplies from abroad. We know that the proceeds from the second tithes (alterae decumae), levied on the grain harvest by the Roman governors of Sicily and Sardinia on at least four occasions during those decades, were sent to Rome, but also to other Mediterranean destinations. Although there is no archaeological evidence to attest it, and in spite of the fact that the Iberian Peninsula is never cited in the sources as a destination, Erdkamp suggests that the grain required by the legions deployed there perhaps came from those provinciae frumentariae.85 In a well-known episode from 171, the legati of certain populi from Hispania lodged several complaints before the Senate involving offences allegedly committed by former

similar pattern, viz. that of the repression of local rebellions and the swift amassing of wealth on the part of the Roman generals and their legions. In neither instance, according to the evidence, was a formal or regular tax collection system introduced in Iberia. However, see the original hypothesis put forward by Richardson (1986) 115–117, arguing that Gracchus played an active role in tax collection, and the critical responses by Rich (1988) 213; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 155–157; Rosenstein (2016a) 117–118; Ñaco del Hoyo (2019) 17; see, France (2021) 127–148 for a rather different view. As to the fact that the Celtiberians were still required to provide the Roman armies with auxiliaries long after Gracchus’ term of office, see Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 160–163, with a detailed discussion of the historical evidence. 83 L. Baebius (pr. 189): Liv. 37.57.1–3; Oros. 4.20.24; N. Fabius Buteo (pr. 173): Liv. 42.4.2. See Ñaco del Hoyo (2020) 117–118. 84 See Ñaco del Hoyo, Principal & Dobson (2022). 85 191: altera decuma from Sardinia to be sent to Rome (Liv. 36.2.12); 190: binae decumae from Sicily and Sardinia to be sent to the Roman legions in Aetolia (Sicilian grain) and to Aetolia and Rome (Sardinian grain) (Liv. 37.2.12); 189: duae decumae from Sicily and Sardinia, one of which was to be sent to the Roman legions in Aetolia and the other to those in Asia (Liv. 37.50.9–10); 171: ­alterae ­decumae from Sardinia to be sent to the Roman armies in Macedonia (Liv. 42.31.8). Erdkamp (2000) 67; Erdkamp (2010a) 137–139.

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magistrates in the course of their duties during the previous years, accusing them of gross mismanagement.86 Given that the Hispani could not directly accuse Roman citizens before the Senate, they were represented by several former magistrates with early associations with Iberia, acting as patroni during the proceedings.87 Once these had been concluded, a senatus consultum adopted several – future – measures to counter the military mismanagement of Hispanic affairs that the proceedings had uncovered. First and foremost, the powers of the praefecti praesidii as garrison commanders were curbed to avoid any undesired interference in the daily affairs of local towns. Furthermore, the Senate limited the authority of the provincial authorities not only to establish the price at which the Hispani sold them grain, but also to force them to sell a set percentage (5 percent) of the harvest at a price compulsorily established by the Romans (Liv. 43.2.12).88 In our view, what is relevant about this passage is not whether or not it demonstrates the introduction of a regular tax system based on the half tithe in Iberia, a suggestion that we believe to be scarcely credible. Instead, it highlights practices aimed at obtaining local grain, doubtless with the objective of provisioning in situ the Roman legions operating in the region. Since we cannot demonstrate that their supplies came from abroad – although, according to Erdkamp, this is certainly possible – evidence like that presented above allows us to contend that the Republican authorities in Iberia devised ways of occasionally accessing local resources. These practices, however, progressively led to greater conflicts even with those Hispani who according to the Livian passage regarded themselves as allies (socii) of Rome (43.2.2), although this was not legally the case, shown by the fact that they could not directly access the Senate, as shown above. Notwithstanding such provisions, measures were taken to avoid further abuses in provincial management.89 The logistics of the Roman armies during the subsequent Celtiberian and Lusitanian Wars (154–133) were entirely transformed in a matter of decades. Vast consular armies were regularly dispatched overseas. With large swaths of central and southern Hispania escaping Rome’s control, it was all but impossible to meet their logistic needs, let alone feed the Iberian auxiliaries. According to Polybius, such a ‘fiery war’ became rather unpopular with young recruits (Plb. 35.4.4) and, unlike what had occurred in the past, in all likelihood not even war spoils were a sufficiently attractive incentive for Roman soldiers to serve in Hispania. Most Republican armies, plus their supplies, continued to use the sea route from Italy to Hispania, as had been customary for the past 75 years. For which reason Rome launched its first military action in Transalpine 86 Liv. 43.2. Briscoe (2012) 390–394 (“The Spanish Affairs”). 87 Ferrary (1998) 18 and 28–37. 88 43.2.12: In futurum consultum tamen ab senatu Hispanis, quod impetrarunt, ne frumenti aestimationem magistratus Romanus haberet neve cogeret vicensimas vendere Hispanos, quanti ipse vellet, et ne praefecti in oppida sua ad pecunias cogendas imponerentur. 89 For a general overview, see Muñiz Coello (1981) 32–43; Richardson (1986) 112–117; Rich (1988) 213; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 246–248; (2019) 10–11; France (2021) 142–144.

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Gaul against the Ligurian pirate havens located in the vicinity of Massilia, in order to offer traders and military convoys plying the sea route greater protection. It should come as no surprise then that, also in 154, the Senate decided to follow the same course of action in the north-western Mediterranean coinciding with the outbreak of such major conflicts as the Celtiberian and Lusitanian Wars in Hispania.90 Similarly, the procedure for recruiting externa auxilia serving in the legions had necessarily changed, for both wars had invalidated all of the capitulation treaties brokered hitherto. Be that as it may, in those regions that had been pacified early on the progressive transformation of the local polities into more hybrid realities provided local auxiliaries willing to join the Roman armies with new forms of integration, as we shall see below. IV Auxilia Externa, Military Agreements and the ‘Iberian Coinage’ Over the past few years, scholarship has shown a much greater interest in analysing the integration and use of auxilia externa in the Republican armies, the provenance of these contingents and the recruitment methods employed during the period of Rome’s territorial expansion.91 There is information on the military terms of agreements between Roman generals and several Iberian polities and tribes in connection with deditiones performed up until at least the last half of the second century.92 Together with the payment of war reparations – the purpose of which, as already seen, was often to feed and pay the legions deployed in Hispania – and the surrender of hostages so as to ensure compliance with the terms and conditions, they also included the obligation of providing local auxiliaries (auxilia externa) to serve – if need be – in the republican armies.93 Throughout the second century, this requirement was gradually

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Cadiou (2022); Ventós & Cabezas-Guzmán (2022); Sanchez (2022); Cibecchini (2022); Álvarez-­ Ossorio (2022); Cabezas-Guzmán & Ventós (2022); Principal & Ñaco del Hoyo (2022). The archaeology has lately uncovered new evidence to prove the relevant presence of Iberian Iron Age material culture in a strongly walled military site in a hill beside the Greek town of Emporion. This fortification was built by the Roman army and maintained from the middle of the second century to the first quarter of the first century, several decades before the foundation of the Roman town of Emporiae in the same location (c.80–70 BCE): Castanyer, Santos & Tremoleda (2015). More recently, these authors have suggested that the local people stationed in this military structure were auxilia externa probably recruited nearby, ready to be dispatched to other peninsular locations: Castanyer et al. (2022) 180–182. García Riaza (1998–1999); Richardson (2017); Ñaco del Hoyo (2019). 218: (Plb. 3.76.4–7; Liv. 21.60.4); 217: (Liv. 22.22.15; Plb. 3.99.7); 212: (Liv. 25.33.6); 211: (Plb. 10.6.2; Liv. 24.49.7–8, 25.33.7, Per.24; Oros. 4.16.14); 210/209: (Liv. 26.41.1, 26.50.2, 26.50.14; Plb. 10.34.1, 10.34.9); 209: (Plb. 10.37.3, 10.38.5–6; Liv. 27.17.4); 207/206: (Plb. 11.20.3–5, 11.31.5–7; Liv. 28.13.2, 28.14.4 and 9, 28.16.5, 28.32.6); 205: (Liv. 29.1.26); 195: (Liv. 34.19.10, 34.20.1–3, 34.20.5–6; Plut. Cat.Mai. 10; Plut. Apoph. Cat. 24; Front. 4.7.35, 10.1); 185: (Liv. 39.30.7, 39.31.15); 181–179: (Liv. 40.30.1–2, 40.31.1; 40.32.4, 40.32.7, 40.40.1, 40.40.13, 40.47.10, 40.49.7; App. Hisp. 44, 153–133: (App. Hisp. 47–48, 52, 58, 63, 65, 92).

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relaxed, as can be clearly seen in the famous Tabula of Alcántara (104), in which such a clause was no longer envisaged.94 In the context of the military agreements formalised in Iberia during the initial years of Roman intervention, it has been discussed whether the troops gained monetary compensation by giving them access to the spoils of war – and therefore also to monetary culture – or if it was up to their home localities to defray the cost of their upkeep.95 From the start of the Second Punic War, cash circulated in the peninsula, large quantities of which were hoarded, as demonstrated by the many discoveries of so-called Hispanic-Punic coinage, drachmae from Emporion and Arse and, in particular their local imitations. These types of currency continued in circulation up until at least c. 170.96 In contrast, smaller quantities of Roman coinage reached Iberia during this period; it was not until a century later that this monetary state of affairs changed radically, with the massive import of Republican denarii from the last quarter of the second century. From that moment until the outbreak of the Sertorian War in the 70s BCE, there were decades in which large quantities of Iberian denarii and their equivalent in bronze97 were minted, which have also recently been associated with the payment of auxiliaries. At that moment, however, the peninsula’s native polities, which had fed the Roman armies with local auxiliaries by means of diplomatic agreements for over a century, were already facing the inexorable advance of Roman imperialism. In such a more hybrid reality, new arrangements were therefore needed in order to recruit such native contingents.98 Unlike what had happened during the Second Punic War, the Iberian coinage minted approximately a century later reflects the compensation of the services rendered by auxilia externa, who were perhaps recruited without the mediation of any treaty between Rome and their home polities.99 These auxiliaries formed specific units – tur-

94 95

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Richardson (2017) 195–197. As a matter of fact, a monographic study – encompassing the Mediterranean as a whole – has yet to be written on this issue, including the particularities of all of the regions in which the Republican armies recruited these types of contingents: Cadiou (2008) 538–443; Prag (2010) 108; (2015) 284–287; Busquets-Artigas (2015) 68–97; 138–147; 204–223; Chaves & Pliego (2015) 170–172. Crawford (1985) 84–102, esp. 84–90; Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 211–221; and more recently Gozalbes (2009); López Sánchez (2010); Chaves & Pliego (2015) 132–194; Busquets-Artigas (2015) 292–339; García-Bellido, Bellón & Montero (2015); Ripollès (2017) 2–3; Valdés (2017) 253–258. The question of when (at the beginning, in the middle or at the end of the second century) and for what reason (fiscal, economic or military) Iberian denarii were minted has given rise to a protracted debate among the specialists: Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 211–221 (summarising the extensive literature); Gozalbes (2009); López Sánchez (2010); Ripollès (2017); Campo (2022). Ripollès (2012) 361–368; Cadiou (2016) 57–59. In 102, it was the Celtiberians, in coordination with the Republican armies in Hispania Citerior, who drove the Cimbrians out of Hispania, after they had crossed the Pyrenees to carry out raids: Liv. Per. 62c; App. Hisp. 99.430–431; Obseq. 43; Plut. Mar.14; Sen. Helv. 7.2. This was the last episode before the outbreak of the Sertorian War in which a fairly important military agreement was brokered with local polities.

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mae – which served on the Hispanic fronts and eventually in other more distant theatres of war, such as Gallia Transalpina and even Italy during the Bellum Sociale. While the coinage followed metrological patterns typically linked to its Roman counterpart, its legends contain terms – conceivably ethnonyms or place names – in local scripts, which are still indecipherable, together with an iconography that also corresponds to the same local traditions. Thus, in a progressively more hybrid society coinage offered its recipients, i. e. at least some of the Hispani, a cultural connection with their own ethnic and linguistic origins, while also serving as a way of integrating them into the new Republican political, military and even economic order.100 In short, these auxilia were combat units formed by individual non-Romans who fought together with Roman and Italian combat units for the sake of Roman interests. In order to integrate such externa auxilia into the new reality of Rome’s hegemonic order, they were compensated with coinage equivalent to the Roman kind, but with iconography and language that was familiar to them.101 Archaeology, essential for analysing this phenomenon, has provided significant evidence in regions formerly under Roman control, such as the northeast of Hispania Citerior, close to newly created settlements in which building traditions imported from Italy merged with a mainly local material culture – e. g. the coinage in circulation. Additionally, the presence of a large quantity of this culturally hybrid coinage in an excellent state of preservation indicates that it was minted in these same sites or somewhere very close by, but unquestionably under the supervision of the Republican authorities in the region.102 In any event, 150 years after the arrival of the Romans in Iberia, these local auxiliaries were no longer simply ‘spoils of war’, the result of advantageous terms of surrender thrashed out with the Hispani, but formed part of a complex, hybrid system of integration into the Roman world, a matter (and a historical period) beyond the scope of this chapter. V Conclusions The Roman legions operating in Iberia between 218 and 171 required an efficient supply chain that guaranteed the arrival of frumentum, vestimenta and stipendium from abroad, either through official channels or private intermediaries, in addition to exacting some of those resources from the stipendiarii Hispani themselves. On occasion, these ad hoc 100 On the use of the Republican monetary iconography to underscore an “image of empire” and even to foster a sense of belonging to a new hybrid reality, see Rowan (2016a) 279–280 and Rowan (2016b) 39–40, who, nonetheless, suggests a date for the appearance of Iberian denarii earlier than the one posited here (see n. 98). 101 López Sánchez (2010) 180–183; Ñaco del Hoyo & Principal (2012) 174–176. 102 Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 215–221; Cadiou (2008) 517–543, 661–663; López Sánchez (2010); Ñaco del Hoyo & Principal (2012); Principal et al. (2017); Campo (2022).

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levies have been understood as the forerunners of a regular tax collection system, in theory organised in Iberia by the Republican authorities at an early date. However, the evidence points to the prevalence of indiscriminate levies during the first fifty years of Roman intervention, rather than the implementation of a systematic tax policy. Specifically, the main measures adopted were related, firstly, to the accumulation of spoils of war (including the rich mines that the Carthaginians had exploited before, it should be noted) and, secondly, to the reparations imposed on some Iberian tribes and towns pursuant to their unconditional surrender (deditio).103 The excessive volatility of Roman military control during those initial fifty years raises doubts about both the regular participation of the local communities in the military logistics of the Roman armies104 and the feasibility of policies such as living off the land. The latter required a prior knowledge of the terrain and was also conditioned by variables such as erratic weather and the availability of harvests, which made it a hazardous strategy.105 In our opinion, the spoils, army wages and supplies – either pillaged, requisitioned or collected from the Iberians between 218 and 171, and probably for longer – were collected as a result of the realpolitik of Rome’s armies operating in unstable provincial territories, not through a system of systematic collection of taxes from the locals.106 In fact, short-term strategies continued to prevail in the minds and praxis of Roman generals throughout that period. In contrast, implementing truly long-term strategies for controlling the region, which made it possible to adopt financial and tax policies with an eye to their consolidation in the long run, was still a utopia for both the Senate and the generals who were sent to the Hispanic provinciae. Gerard Cabezas-Guzmán Universitat de Girona [email protected] Toni Ñaco del Hoyo Catalan Institution for Research and  Advanced Studies (ICREA) & Universitat de Girona [email protected]

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Ñaco del Hoyo (2019) 82–85. Plb. 11.25.9; Erdkamp (1998) 28–34, 55; Valdés (2017) 274–275, 434. Erdkamp (1998) 130–140; Roth (1999) 156; Valdés (2017) 62. See, in general, Ñaco del Hoyo (2011); Kay (2014) chap. 2, 21–42; Bleckmann (2016); Rosenstein (2016a); Richardson (2017); Tan (2017) 118–143; Taylor (2017); France (2021) 123–148.

The Revenues of Asia and the Evolution of the Res Publica* Bradley Jordan I Introduction Economic spoils were integral to Roman practices of warfare. The extent to which this carried over into practices of rule and administration is more ambiguous, however. The res publica undoubtedly extracted currency and natural resources from regions subject to its imperium during the late Republic but the province of Asia provides an intriguing anomaly. Unlike the other provinces considered in this volume, the integration of the former Attalid kingdom was not achieved through conquest, yet, by the year 66, the region could be characterised as the keystone of the Republic’s revenue.1 This paper investigates the degree to which the Roman state sought to take advantage of the economic opportunities in the province of Asia. It concentrates on the provincial public revenues (vectigalia), posing the crucial questions of how the res publica consciously aimed to exploit the resources extracted and how the Roman fiscal system in the province developed during the first eighty years of its existence. Organised economic exploitation has long been assumed as a prime driver of Roman administrative development, and scholars have often relied on this paradigm to interpret the provincialisation of Asia.2 However, fresh approaches have emphasised the limited nature of Roman provincial administration in the late second century, casting doubt over the extent of imperial ambitions for government.3 Moreover, Tan’s recent proposal, that, during this period, a senatorial consensus opposed the expansion

*

I would like to thank Marian Helm and Saskia Roselaar for the invitation to present this work at the Bochum conferences for the “Spoils in the Roman Republic” project (2017 and 2018). Their feedback, and that of other participants, particularly Toni Ñaco del Hoyo and John Rich, has proven invaluable. Illuminating discussions with Georgy Kantor, Lina Girdvainyte, and Kimberley Webb also shaped this paper. Any errors remaining and the views espoused are, of course, my own. All dates are BCE, unless otherwise indicated. 1 Cic. Leg. Man. 14–17. Aristonicus’ anti-Roman resistance was opposed by the majority of poleis within the kingdom. For a detailed analysis: Daubner (2006) 136–162. 2 E. g. Frank (1933) 228–229; Magie (1950) 34; Santangelo (2007) 108. 3 E. g. Drogula (2015); Gargola (2017).

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of state revenues, is compelling.4 In this chapter I argue three points: first, that the Roman state did not seek to maximise public revenue in this period, problematising the prevailing view on Asia’s development as a province. Second, that the unique status of provincia Asia resulted in a relatively light economic burden for most inhabitants of the region until the First Mithridatic War. Third, that the critical juncture prompting the creation of the intrusive and exploitative fiscal administration known from late Republican sources was the province’s re-organisation by Sulla in and after 85. I close with some brief reflections on the implication of these changes for the social and political character of the Roman state. In sum, this chapter seeks to contribute to the debate on how the Romans practiced empire in the rapidly changing geopolitical environment of the first century BCE. II Economic Exploitation in the Second Century BCE Most scholarship on Roman imperialism implicitly or explicitly assumes that the Roman ‘state’, embodied by the Senate and comitia, had overt economic motives to extend their political power and, consequently, sought generally to increase public revenue obtained from the provinciae. That is, the Roman state and its representatives consciously constructed administrative structures to systematically extract provincial resources for the benefit of the imperial centre. Examples of this attitude and its application to understanding the development of provincia Asia are not difficult to find.5 By way of illustration, Santangelo, describing Sulla’s actions in 85, states “that the fiscal exploitation of [Asia] was already well established before the [First Mithridatic] War and that resuming it was among [his] priorities”.6 Similarly, Dreyer, writing on the provincialisation of Asia, speaks explicitly in terms of revenue maximisation.7 Sociological research also emphasises efficiency and resource acquisition as underlying Roman decision-making.8 The hypothesis that Roman administration emerged intentionally to facilitate the flow of revenue to the imperial centre underpins much of the literature on Roman imperialism but remains unproven.9

4 5

6 7 8 9

Tan (2017) esp. 20–38. Harris (1979) 68–74, notably emphasised the economic motives for interstate warfare during this period. For Asia specifically, e. g. Sherwin-White (1976; 1977; 1984); Levi (1988); Kiser & Kane (2007); Dreyer (2015) 206–215. See also, the assumption that all communities not explicitly freed are subject to taxation (e. g. Magie 1950, 159, 162–164), assuming (without argument) that larger revenues were both desirable and actively sought. Santangelo (2007) 112. Dreyer (2015) 209–210. E. g. Kiser & Kane (2007) 192–193. Tan (2015) 208–228.

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Increasingly, alternative voices are making themselves heard. Fresh approaches to the administration of provinciae in the second century stress the minimal extent of state goals. Recently, Gargola emphasised the limited evidence for the ongoing presence of Roman magistrates in Africa. Though the former Carthaginian-dominated polities there certainly paid financial contributions of some kind to Rome, this does not demonstrate that an intrusive or extensive state existed for locals.10 Similar points have been made by Richardson and Ñaco del Hoyo, among others.11 While I will not reproduce these arguments in detail here, I accept their core premise and, consequently, conceive of the Roman administrative presence in the new provinciae of the mid-second century as relatively light; its development as a gradual and graduated process. More pertinently, Tan has recently argued that, during the mid-second century, a senatorial consensus existed which resisted permanent increases of state revenue, such as would be brought by imposing new taxes on subject regions. Instead, Roman fiscal policy generally restricted state income after the Third Macedonian War. Large scale indemnities were no longer inflicted regularly upon defeated enemies, while the tributum levied upon Roman citizens was permanently ended.12 Kiser and Kane had already observed that the Senate and magistrates operated as a ‘revolving-door’, where the body responsible for policy creation and oversight is made up of those who had and would be responsible for administration on the ground. In their view, the private interests of magistrates and senators aligned, increasing the incentives for collusion against the interests of the state. Consequently, the decision-makers within the Senate deliberately kept state revenue low to maximise the potential private gains available to themselves and their relatives. Tan, however, astutely perceived that the most influential members of the Senate, the consulars and ex-censors, had the least to gain from such collusion.13 Instead, he returned to Hopkins’ hypothesis that political considerations worked against the maximisation of public revenues.14 Individual senators derived little advantage from a full treasury: chances to divert funds for personal use were limited as a senator, and the allocation of funds through collective decisions (i. e. senatus ­consulta) meant that decisions required a broad consensus. However, larger public revenues could still afford opportunities to a small number of aspiring politicians. The ­existence of consistent large fiscal surpluses allowed magistrates with legislative powers, especially tribunes of the plebs, to promulgate and pass expensive, ongoing measures to the benefit of the voting public, thereby converting public finances into personal political capital. The policies of the Gracchi, for example, were predicated

10 11 12 13 14

E. g. App. Pun. 135. See Gargola (2017) 348–356. Ñaco del Hoyo (2003) 194–221; Richardson (2008) 23–27; Drogula (2015) 263–273. Cf. KalletMarx (1995) 62–64; Zoumbaki (2018) 369–370. Tan (2017) 27–29. Cf. Taylor in this volume. Tan (2015) 219–220 pace Kiser & Kane (2007) 199–200. Hopkins (1978) 37–47.

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on the sudden availability and appropriation of new resources.15 These actions undermined the core pillars of Roman elite consensus: such windfalls, often based on successes in major wars, happened irregularly, offering an advantage to the magistrates lucky enough to hold office at the time. The interests of the elite collectively, perpetuated by an ethos of (relatively) balanced competition, weighed against maximisation of public revenue in most circumstances.16 Tan argues, successfully in my view, that the Roman state could have realised more state revenue from provincia Asia, at less social cost, through alternatives to the censoria locatio system eventually introduced, such as those employed in other provinciae.17 The perpetuation of the sophisticated Attalid tax-system would also have had a minimal social impact.18 As Pfuntner astutely notes in this volume, the normal functioning of Sicilian fiscal administration at the time of the Verrines ‘both required the collaboration of, and served the political and economic interests of, local elites’.19 The contrast with the tax-farm of the Asian decuma (discussed below) during the same period could not be greater. This is not to say that individual members of the Roman elite were not keen to extract wealth from subject communities for their own purposes, but that the expansion of public revenues ran counter to the individual interests of senators. Put slightly differently, corrupt or exploitative behaviour by individuals was endemic but not systemic: it was not the intended outcome of Roman administration.20 It should also be noted that the described consensus was not beyond question. Ti. Sempronius Gracchus’ threats to regulate the newly acquired kingdom in 133 by means of a tribunician lex, his attempts to appropriate the property of the deceased Attalus III, and the rhetoric of his brother in the 120s all point to rising tension over the proper use of state resources.21 However, during the mid-second century the senatorial consensus moved consciously away from attempts to maximise the patrimony of the Roman populus, that is, the public revenues derived from the provinces.

Tan (2017) 144–69. Cf. Tan’s observation (p. 27) that every lex frumentaria passed at Rome between 123 and 58 was accompanied by either a major new tax or the appropriation of a foreign treasury. The regulation of taxes for the newly conquered lands of the Caeni in the lex de provinciis praetoriis may also reflect the priorities of L. Appuleius Saturninus in early 100 (RS 12, Knidos IV.5–32; Colin (1924) 76; Ferrary (1977) 654 contra Giovannini (2008) 101–107). 16 Discussed by Hölkeskamp (2010) 98–106. 17 Tan (2017) 53–67. 18 See now Kaye (2022). E. g. SEG 47.1745.43–6; 57.1150; IK. Metropolis 1b.18–23. Cf. Ashton (1994) 57–60; Ma (1999) 131–135; Jones (2004) 475–477. 19 Pfuntner, in this volume. 20 E. g. attempts to stamp out gubernatorial corruption, starting in the 149 BCE with the lex Calpurnia. Richardson (1987) 1–12; (2008) 37–43; Morrell (2017) 11–14. 21 Plut. Ti. Gracch. 14.1. C. Gracchus: Diod. Sic. 34.24; ORF 48 F 12, 27–8, 44. Cf. Div. Caec. 69; De or. 2.188, 194–196; App. BC 1.22. See Tan (2017) 149–150, 156–159. 15

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III The Initial Organisation of Provincia Asia In the spring of 133, a Pergamene embassy arrived in Rome and informed the Senate that Attalus III had died unexpectedly, complicating the ongoing political contest between Ti. Gracchus and his opponents over his proposed agrarian legislation. Under the terms of Attalus’ will, the populus Romanus would be his heir.22 The specifics of this arrangement are unclear, but subsequent events imply this entailed receipt of his property and kingdom.23 Under the terms of the will, freedom (Gr. ἐλευθερία; Lat. libertas) was to be accorded to those poleis previously subject to Attalid rule. Some appear to have pre-empted any Roman action, including Ephesus, which immediately issued coins dated to a new civic era, most likely as a declaration of liberation from royal rule.24 In response, the Senate despatched five legati to Pergamon, including Q. Cornelius Scipio Nasica, whose violent opposition to the program of Ti. Gracchus warranted a period of prudent absence from the city.25 The testament’s implementation was contested immediately by Aristonicus, the illegitimate son of Eumenes II, who claimed the Pergamene throne as Eumenes III.26 Though he appears to have drawn support from a wide region, ranging from the upper Caïcus, close to Pergamum itself, to the Maeander, and despite outlasting two Roman commanders, Strabo’s detailed account and the epigraphic evidence highlight that most poleis chose to support Rome.27 The prevailing view stresses the allure of the freedom offered by Attalus’ will in securing this support for Rome.28 Due to this unrest, little formal administration could be put in place until 129, under the commander M’. Aquillius, whose work was not completed before 126. He was accompanied by ten legati, a standard second century practice in settling wars or organising territories.29 However, the new provincia was not set up to maximise potential state rev-

22 Plut. Ti. Gracch. 14.1; Liv. Per. 58.3. 23 Compare Cyprus (in 58) and Cyrenaica (after 95): Reynolds (1962) 101; Badian (1965) esp. 119– 120; not, as Daubner (2006) 216, would have it, the rights of the king vis-à-vis the cities. 24 Liv. Per. 59.3. Cf. OGIS 338. Daubner (2006) 21–23. Discussion in Kirbihler (2016) 23–24. Ephesus’ coinage attests a new civic era commencing in 134/133 which has been linked to the testament of Attalus (Rigsby 1979, 37–47; corrected by Adams 1980, 311–314). 25 Plut. Ti. Gracch. 21.3; Val. Max. 5.3.ext.2; ILS 8886. 26 Str. 14.1.38; Liv. Per. 59.3; Sall. Hist. 4.69M.8; Just. Epit. 36.4.6. For a full account of Aristonicus’ revolt, see Daubner (2006) 53–190 with references; cf.  Jones (2004) 469–485. The royal name: Eutropius 4.18, 20. See Robinson (1954). 27 Strabo 14.1.38. Brun (2004) 44–52 with references. 28 Daubner (2006) 151–152; Kirbihler (2016) 23–24. The memory of Apameia, where Roman allies were given freedom and enemies were subjected to Attalus II or Rhodes, probably also contributed (Plb. 21.45.1–11; Liv. 38.39.7–17). Cf. Dreyer (2015) 208. Note already Broughton (1938) 509. 29 Daubner (2006) 191–195; Yarrow (2012) 169–172. The original legati do seem to have acted if the appearance of Ῥωμαΐκη νομοθεσία (SEG 50.1211) is associated with their activity; Wörrle (2000) 568–571 contra Dreyer & Engelmann (2003) 83 n. 326. Cf. Jones (2004) 481–483, but it seems clear that Aquillius’ delegation had complete discretion.

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enue. Large portions of Phrygia were pared away from Attalus’ kingdom and granted to other allied rulers.30 Moreover, the overwhelming majority of previously subject poleis appear to have received their freedom as intended. An honorific decree for Apollonius of Metropolis, dated to May 132, who had perished fighting against Aristonicus, summarises the reasons for the ongoing conflict in terms which relate explicitly to civic freedom:31 Now, when King Philometor had died, and the Romans, common benefactors and saviours, had restored, as they had decreed, ἐλευθερία (freedom) to all those formerly making up the kingdom of Attalus, since Aristonikos arrived and wished to take away again our ἐλευθερία, restored by the Senate…32

The text stresses through repetition that ἐλευθερία had been given (ἀποδόντων; ἀποδε­ δομένην) and that a senatus consultum had been passed to that effect (ἐδογμάτισαν; ὑπὸ τῆς συγκλήτου).33 Moreover, the unusual qualification that the freedom extended to πᾶσιν τοῖς πρότερον τασσομένοις ὑπὸ τὴν Ἀττάλου βασιλείαν (‘all those formerly making up the kingdom of Attalus’) demonstrates conclusively that this was a universal grant.34 While individual exceptions to this rule certainly existed, including Phocaea, which openly supported Aristonicus, there is no strong reason to reject the accuracy of the Metropolitans’ claim.35 Roman attitudes towards the just treatment of allies and friendly communities clarify this situation further. Not denying the propensity of the Senate and its representatives to manipulate situations to their own advantage, Roman self-presentation and imagination included a strong ethos of honourable conduct governing their relationships with non-Romans. The near-contemporary example of C. Hostilius Mancinus, handed over to the Numantines when the Senate refused to ratify his treaty with them in 136, highlights the seriousness with which the Romans took the appearance of right action during this period.36 Given the apparent absence of an overt Roman presence in 30 App. Mithr. 57; Just. Epit. 37.1.2, 38.5.3. Sherwin-White (1984) 88–89. 31 On the date: Jones (2004) 478–482 contra Dreyer & Engelmann (2003) 66–79. 32 IK. Metropolis 1a, ll. 13–17: νῦν τε τοῦ μὲν Φιλομήτορος βασιλέως μεταλλάξαντος Ῥω|μαίων δὲ τῶν κοινῶν εὐεργετῶν τε καὶ σωτήρων ἀποδόντων, καθάπερ ἐδογμάτισαν, τὴν ἐ|λευθερίαν πᾶσιν τοῖς πρότερον τασσομένοις ὑπὸ τὴν Ἀττάλου βασιλείαν, Ἀριστονίκου δὲ παρα|γεγονότος καὶ βουλομένου παραιρεῖσθαι τὴν ἀποδεδομένην ἡμῖν ἐλευθερίαν ὑπὸ τῆς συγκλή|του… See Dreyer (2015) 206–207, though he is mistaken in arguing for maximization. 33 Chaniotis (2014) 151. See Snowdon (2008) 378–391, on the sense of ‘freedom’ expressed as atavistic and innate to civic identity, even where the community had never previously possessed it. 34 Note the emphasis placed on both senatorial decree and practice. Rigsby (1979) 46–47; pace Jones (2004) 479–481. 35 Daubner (2006) 151–152; Kirbihler (2016) 23 n. 12 contra Bernhardt (1985) 285–294. It does not follow from the Metropolis’ attempts to use the Roman governor in local disputes (SEG 39.1244.1.50– 2.7) that it became subject almost immediately contra Dreyer (2005) 65–67. 36 Generally, Drexler (1959); Burton (2009) 240–241, 248–252. See also the lengthy prelude to the Third Punic War and the resistance of P. Cornelius Scipio Nasica on the grounds nondum sibi iustam causam belli videri (Liv. Per. 48.24. Cf. 48.5, 15).

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contemporary Africa, it would be significant if such a burden were placed on free allies who had not transgressed against Roman interests and, in many cases, had actively assisted in the suppression of anti-Roman unrest.37 Furthermore, the evidence speaks against the immediate, large-scale fiscal exploitation of the province. Though often unremarked upon, in the context of the late second century, Asia was unique: a province overwhelmingly populated by allied communities which had no record of transgression against Rome.38 This has important implications for understanding their treatment within the regular tax system. Bernhardt argued that grants of freedom by the Roman state entailed exemption from regular Roman taxation (immunitas) from the Republic through to Late Antiquity as a matter of course. Examples in which free cities made financial contributions to the Roman state, including the provision of supplies and billeting from Roman troops, were, by nature, irregular.39 Buraselis disagreed, raising two important passages of Appian describing Roman commanders exacting money from free cities: Sulla in the aftermath of the First Mithridatic War in 85 and M. Antonius after Philippi in 41. However, both refer to contexts of extreme political stress and commanders with immediate and pressing fiscal needs.40 These should not be taken as indicative of normal practice during the Late Republic, especially since the earliest clear evidence of tribute-paying civitates liberae dates to the Principate.41 As I argue in more detail below, this unprecedented situation of a commander organising a re-conquered territory during a civil war should not be held as an example of normal administration. Sulla had specific, immediate needs, which did not map well onto typical Roman practices.42 Instead, at least in the earliest period, unqualified ἐλευθερία should correspond with libertas, and therefore the complete set of Hellenistic freedoms.43 Consequently, the universal ἐλευθερία of the Metropolis inscription should also have been accompanied by an absence of Roman taxes levied on the poleis of Asia. Appian’s account of M. Antonius’ settlement of Asia Minor in 41 further supports this interpretation. In the narrative, the Triumvir argues to the assembled representa-

37

For Africa, Gargola (2017) 331–361. Even the provinces of Sicily and the Spains, as discussed by Pfuntner and Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume, were still in the process of developing regular administrative institutions. For a near-contemporary example (Cyrenaica) see Oost (1963); Daubner (2006) 51. 38 E. g. Sherwin-White (1984) 93–94; Santangelo (2007) 108–111. See, now, Eckstein’s discussion (2018, 237–238) of Rome’s relationship with Greek communities after the Treaty of Apameia in 188. 39 Bernhardt (1980) 190–207; (1999) 49–68. Cf. Dmitriev (2017) 203–207. 40 App. BC 1.102, 5.6. Buraselis (2000) 134–137. 41 Jones (19712) 60, cites Ilium in 89, but see Bernhardt (1980) 198; Wallace (2014) 56–57. Otherwise, the earliest strong evidence is for Cos in the Augustan period (Strabo 14.2.19, with Buraselis (2000) 134–135 on freedom). 42 Dmitriev (2017) 203–207. 43 Note the similar argument for the correspondences between συνέδριον and senatus in Greece at Piérart (2013) 28–31.

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tives of the poleis that at the inception of the province, the cities were freed from any tax burden: You, Hellenes, Attalus, your king, left to us in his will, and immediately we were better to you than Attalus was. For, those taxes, for which you were assessed by Attalus, we released you from, until demagogues arose among us and made taxes necessary.44

Following Appian, Antonius claimed that among the first acts of the Roman administration of Asia was to end the complex Attalid tax regime without attempting to replace it. Were the extraction of public revenue their goal, the Romans could have maintained this pre-existing system, as they did in Sicily (and, indeed, alongside other retained aspects of the Attalid administration).45 The immediate imposition of a novel tax regime  – one acknowledged to be harsher  – would not only cut against the accepted practice that libertas entailed immunitas, but the ideology of just treatment of provincials. Indeed, in a key passage attacking C. Verres’ regime in Sicily, Cicero drew a distinction between the taxes levied on communities peacefully incorporated into Roman provinciae and those collected from regions absorbed through conquest: Between Sicily and the other provinces, judges, there is a difference in this matter of the agricultural revenue; since in some, either the imposed tribute – which is called stipendiary – is fixed, as in the Spains or many of the Carthaginian regions, just as if a prize of victory or punishment for war; or it is decided through the locatio of the censors, as for Asia under the lex Sempronia. But the communities of Sicily, we received into friendship and alliance so that they were under the same laws as they were before, being subject to the Roman people in the same way which they were subject to those before us. Very few of the Sicilian communities were subdued by our ancestors in war…moreover, all the land of the Sicilian communities is subject to the decuma, as again it was by the will and decisions of the Sicilians themselves before the imperium of the Roman people…not only, did they [the populus Romanus] impose no new tribute on their lands, but did not even alter the law regulating the selling the contracts for the decuma, nor that regulating the time or place for their sale, so that they are sold, at a fixed time of year, again in Sicily, in short, just as under the lex Hieronica.46

44 App. BC 5.4: Ὑμᾶς ἡμῖν, ὦ ἄνδρες Ἕλληνες, Ἄτταλος ὁ βασιλεὺς ὑμῶν ἐν διαθήκαις ἀπέλιπε, καὶ εὐθὺς ἀμείνονες ὑμῖν ἦμεν Ἀττάλου. οὔς γὰρ ἐτελεῖτε φόρους Ἀττάλῳ, μεθήκαμεν ὑμῖν, μεχρί, δημοκόπων ἀνδρῶν καὶ παρ’ ἡμῖν γενομένων, ἐδέησε φόρων. Compare also Roman taxation in Macedonia, halving royal tax rates (Liv. 45.29.5). 45 Prag (2014) 168–173. On the persistence of Attalid administration in Asia, see e. g. Kantor (2014). 46 Cic. 2 Verr. 3.12–14: inter Siciliam ceterasque provincias, iudices, in agrorum vectigalium ratione hoc interest, quod ceteris aut impositum vectigal est certum, quod stipendiarium dicitur, ut Hispanis et plerisque Poenorum, quasi victoriae praemium ac poena belli, aut censoria locatio constituta est, ut Asiae lege Sempronia: Siciliae civitates sic in amicitiam fidemque accepimus ut eodem iure essent quo fuissent, eadem condicione populo Romano parerent qua suis antea paruissent. Perpaucae Siciliae civitates sunt bello a maioribus nostris subactae… praeterea omnis ager Siciliae civitatum decumanus est, itemque ante

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Although skewed by Cicero’s rhetorical needs, the attitudes revealed are enlightening. As most Sicilian communities came into Roman hegemony as free allies, they retained their privileges vis-à-vis their former rulers, the Hieronids of Syracuse. The Sicilians already paid a tax corresponding to the Roman decuma, the tithe on agricultural produce and, consequently, retained their own system of collection.47 Crucially, Cicero contrasts this with the levy of stipendiaria on Africa and Spain, described “quasi victoriae praemium ac poena belli” (‘as if a prize of victory or punishment for war’). The difference highlighted by Cicero between peaceful incorporation into empire and conquest implies that Roman elite opinion would recognise the application of lighter or heavier tax burdens on the basis of past actions vis-à-vis Rome as manifestly just.48 As Ñaco del Hoyo notes, even these ‘prizes’ or ‘punishments’ in Spain throughout this period tended to be ad hoc, situational, and not centrally directed.49 Although the Attalids levied a tithe (δεκάτη) on agricultural produce, the new Roman rulers actively dismantled the pre-existing system rather than continuing to collect it. The initial response to the riches of Asia was to minimise the potential state income from the new province. Appian’s Antonius suggests that the activities of ‘demagogues’ made the introduction of Roman taxation in Asia necessary. When added to Cicero’s unequivocal statement that the decuma in Asia was collected in accordance with the lex Sempronia de provincia Asia, this has led scholars to assume that Roman taxation was introduced to the cities of the province by C. Sempronius Gracchus in 123/122.50 However, this sits uneasily with Bernhardt’s reasonable argument that, typically, during the Late Republic, grants of libertas included immunitas. Moreover, the principle that the territories of free cities were, in some way, separate from the provincia and the authority of the Roman governor is also well-established.51 However, a substantial body of land within the province lay outside the civic territories: the so-called βασιλικὴ χώρα, the erstwhile ‘property’ of the monarch, which seems to have been incorporated into the ager publicus, and whose rents were farmed by publicani, through a locatio of the censors, from the beginning of Roman administration.52 This royal property was non-contiguous and

imperium populi Romani ipsorum Siculorum voluntate et institutis fuit…non modo eorum agris vectigal novum nullum imponeret, sed ne legem quidem venditionis decumarum neve vendundi aut tempus aut locum commutarent, ut certo tempore anni ut ibidem in Sicilia, denique ut lege Hieronica venderent. 47 Dubouloz & Pittia (2009) 101–107; Prag (2014) 168–173; Corvino (2016) 156–159. 48 Cic. 2 Verr. 3.12. Kay (2014) 64. Cf. Yakobson (2009) 61–66. The fragmentary speech de rege Alexandrino, de lege agraria (2.43–52) and de lege Manilia, passim, all imply that a defensive posture is essential for a war to be considered ‘just’. Moreover, this does not exclude the possibility in 67 that other provinces, e. g. Cilicia, had adopted this model. 49 Ñaco del Hoyo (2007) 228–230. 50 Broughton (1938) 511; Magie (1950) 1005–1006; Mattingly (1972) 412–423; Kay (2014) 59–83. 51 SEG 39.1244.2.1–7. See Ferrary (1991) 574–577. 52 Cic. Leg. agr. 2.50. Daubner (2006, 216–217) carefully distinguishes between the ‘free cities’ and the remaining land, though he does not emphasise its title. Rostovtzeff (1910) 283–5; Magie (1950) 1047–1048; Merola (2001) 183–186, contra Frank (1927) 148–149, and Broughton (1934) 207–208,

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included industrial concerns within otherwise civic territory. In at least one case, this situation was further complicated by the decision of a Roman magistrate to return some of this land to the custody of a temple.53 Although the scope of Gracchus’ law remains unclear, given the controversy of his fiscal proposals, it is highly unlikely to have levied novel direct taxes on the free and immune poleis of Asia. As such, the lex Sempronia likely regulated the collection of the decuma from appropriate locations, namely, the former βασιλικὴ χώρα, which had unambiguously fallen into the purview of the Roman state.54 This solution reconciles the presence of publicani in Asia from the very outset of Roman rule with Appian’s claim that royal taxation of cities was ended. Moreover, the legal concept of ager privatus vectigalisque, mentioned in the near-contemporary lex agraria of 111, offers a further neat possibility. According to Roselaar, this statute, in return for an ongoing vectigal – potentially, in practice, a tithe –, rendered ager publicus in Africa private property. This had the effect of retaining the former income for the state, while concurrently permanently alienating it from state control.55 Consequently, the inclusion of such a clause, parcelling out public lands (i. e., the former βασιλικὴ χώρα in Asia) as ager privatus vectigalisque would effectively be to guarantee revenue from these lands in the longer-term, allowing it to offset ongoing spending measures, such as those in Gracchus’ legislative programme. Consequently, I argue that a major thrust of the lex Sempronia was to give the ager publicus in Asia this status, assigning it to existing tenants as a private concern, complicating future attempts to appropriate this land for other uses, in turn, securing for the state a portion of the revenues necessary to support Gracchus’ broader programme. This argument further elegantly explains the apparent absence of ager publicus in Asia in 63, when the tribune P. Servilius Rullus attempted to appropriate large swathes of public land in the Roman East for his lex agraria. Cicero lists the lands Rullus sought to seize, including the regii agri (i. e., βασιλικὴ χώρα) of the Macedonian kings P ­ hilip V and Perseus, as well as Nicomedes IV of Bithynia, Mithridates VI of Pontus and Ptolewho draw a contrast between the treatment of royal estates and ‘crown-lands’ not borne out by the evidence. 53 Str. 14.1.28. 54 App. BC 1.7. See Roselaar (2010) 90–93. N. b. Monson (2015) 190: the δεκατή could, in practice, be much higher. Note also, the flexibility of Republican tax legislation. For example, the near-contemporary lex portoria Asiae generally has recourse to indefinite pronouns with verbs of obligation (e. g. ἐν οἷς τόποις κατὰ δόγμα συγκλήτου ἢ κατὰ νόμον | [ἢ κατὰ δήμου κύρωσιν δεῖ τειμευτὴν ἢ ὕπ]ατον [τ]ελωνείαν ἐκμισθῶσαι ‘in whatever places, by decree of the Senate or lex or plebiscitum, it is necessary for the censor or consul to lease out the portorium’). (Cottier et al. 2008, ll.9–11, also, 28–29, 32–34, 40, 42–45, 48–50, 56, 69–71, 72–78. Cf. the lex agraria of 111 (RS 2.85–90), with Lintott (1992) 272–275; see Spagnuolo Vigorita (1997) 157–158. The lex Sempronia likely resembled such statutes and concentrated on laying out the basic conditions and geographic applicability of the law, before leaving its specific administration to each iteration of magistrates. 55 RS 2.48–49, 63–6. Compare Festus 516.14–16L. Rathbone (2003) 152–154; Roselaar (2010) 233–236. On the concept generally: Mommsen (1905 [1862]) 127–128; de Martino (1956) 557–579; Lintott (1992) 257; De Ligt (2007) 89–94.

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my Apion in Cyrenaica. The only Attalid lands mentioned are those in the (Thracian) Chersonesus, that is, those outside of provincia Asia.56 Given the apparently exhaustive scope of Rullus’ appropriation of available land, it is implausible that he would have omitted Attalid possessions in Asia were available to him: their absence must be accounted for.57 One alternative solution sees them alienated from the ager publicus at a different date, but few plausible candidates for effecting this exist: tribunes of the plebs tended to focus on lands in Italy to settle colonists, while the mass alienation of the only state revenue-producing lands in Asia would run contrary to the interests of a typical tribune. M’. Aquillius, presents the most likely alternative, considering the ongoing contest over the fiscal policy at Rome in this period. Plausibly, some former royal land was allocated to communities as a reward, as the case of the lakes at Selinousia indicates, but the large-scale divestment of all royal property was unprecedented and an unexpectedly radical act for the proconsul to undertake. Moreover, we learn from Cicero that this legislation regulated the means by which this vectigal, the decuma within provincia Asia, was to be collected; namely, by a single societas publicanorum.58 By contrast with contiguous civic territories, the dispersed and fragmented nature of the formerly royal estates lent itself to exploitation by tax-farmers, (the publicani).59 By insisting on the method of censoria locatio, C. Gracchus benefitted from immediate payment of a proportion of the contracted amount, creating an immediate return to the treasury and ensuring the swifter realisation of his policy goals.60 If, as I argue above, this initial tax-farm was restricted to former βασιλικὴ χώρα, then any successfully bidding company would not need to be especially large, since much of the region’s potential revenue, deriving from civic communities, would not be subject to their assessment. Taken together, this evidence suggests that the lex Sempronia, while reorganising the collection of the decuma in Asia to favour C. Gracchus’ goals, did not impose new and unprecedented dues upon the free cities of Asia. Instead, it sought to regulate and consolidate existing revenue streams in a such a fashion as to support its promulgator’s programme in the longer term. This less extreme interpretation of what remained radical legislation, then, shifts the emphasis to the alienation of public lands and the method of collection, rather than imputing a wanton disregard for purportedly

56 Cic. Leg. agr. 2.50–41. Cf. 1.5–6. 57 Though Manuwald (2018) ad loc., does not comment, see at Cic. Leg. agr. 2.38–40. 58 Later evidence demonstrates that taxes were auctioned as single concerns within other provinciae: compare the situation in Sicily in the 70s (Cic. 2 Verr. 2.171); Asia and Bithynia in the 50s (Cic. Fam. 13.9, 65, with Cotton (1986); Att. 11.10.1). See Broughton (1938) 511; Badian (1972) 106–107; Cotton (1986) 367–373; Nicolet (1979/2000) 301–303; Poitras & Geranio (2016) 103–104. 59 Tan (2017) 42–44. 60 Kay (2014) 77–82. Cf. ILLRP 518; Cic. Planc. 136; Att. 1.17.9. Badian (1972) 68. Given the complex eco-system of finance and exchange around public contracts, up-front payment through loans would not have been difficult to achieve and would broaden the appeal of this legislation to the elite writ large. See Plb. 6.17; Nicolet (1966) 326–339; cf. Poitras & Geranio (2016).

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free allies. Even where popular legislation cut against late second century administrative norms, it did not stretch to imposing Roman taxes onto new payers. There was still room in this administrative system for pervasive corruption and profiteering at the individual level. The publicani had a clear interest in increasing their own profits. However, their leverage was not unrestricted. We hear of instances where their actions were resisted by a commander (e. g. Q. Mucius Scaevola in 99–97)61, or more commonly by the Senate.62 Though equestrian control of the repetundae courts provided a degree of pressure on magistrates, as shown by the well-attested conviction of the famously upright P. Rutilius Rufus in 92, this could not necessarily translate into coercive power over the Senate as a body.63 Unwarranted interference in the judicial and political arena appears to have been commonplace, fuelled by the increasing presence of Roman and Italian entrepreneurs in Asia.64 However, this phenomenon stands entirely unconnected to the exploitation of state revenue streams. Taken together, the evidence for the organisation of provincia Asia in the late second century suggests that the Roman state was unconcerned with maximizing public, or indeed private, profits. IV Sulla and the Reorganisation of Asia After the conclusion of the First Mithridatic War with the Treaty at Dardanus in 85, the Roman commander, L. Cornelius Sulla, had the unfettered authority to re-establish Roman administration in Asia. The collaboration of most poleis with Mithridates rendered the recovery of the region by Roman arms almost a conquest and offered the proconsul a free hand in dealing with many individual communities. Late that year, Sulla summoned civic representatives to Ephesus and took three major decisions, one political and two financial. First, some named poleis were to be ‘free’: the logical corollary, most were not.65 This had an immediate symbolic effect and demonstrating the

Diod. Sic. 37.6. Cf. Cic. Planc. 33; Att. 5.17.5; 6.1.15; Fam. 1.9.26; Liv. Per. 70.8; Val. Max. 8.15.6. See Badian (1972) 89–92. On the date of his governorship: Ferrary (2012) 157–179. 62 E. g. Senatus consultum de agro Pergameno (RDGE 12); IK. Priene2 67.14, 21, 134–149. 63 On Rutilius: Badian (1972) 90–92 with references. Cf. Kallet-Marx (1990) 123–126; Morrell (2017) 12–14. 64 On the interference of Roman magistrates in local affairs: SEG 39.1243–1244, with Ferrary (1991) 557–577; Boffo (2003) 235–238; cf. Fournier (2010) 302–329. On Italian landowning in Asia: Eberle & Le Quéré (2017). 65 App. Mith. 61 names Rhodes and Lycia (both outside the province), Chios, Ilium and ‘Magnesia’, adding ‘some others’; epigraphic evidence confirms Carian Stratonicea, Tabae, Alabanda, Aphrodisias and Astypalaea; and Cicero’s Verrines implies strongly that Lampsacus was free (2 Verr. 1.81). Santangelo (2006, 133–134) and Kinns (2006, 41–48) both identify Appian’s Magnesia as Magnesia-on-the-Sipylos (Liv. Per. 81.2). Santangelo discusses Byzantium, Sardis, Halicarnassus, Apollonis and Smyrna as possibilities, while Buraselis (2000, 17–20 with I.Cos 229.7–9) adds Cos. See Jones (19712) 62–64, and table of Santangelo (2007) 122–123, with references. 61

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shift in power-dynamics in the region. Due to his own fragile position – locked in a civil war, with a chastened but undefeated Mithridates on the horizon, a disaffected army, and his opponents mobilising forces against him – Sulla could not allow the poleis to go unpunished.66 Second, he imposed an extra-ordinary exaction on the subject cities of five-years of tribute and his war-expenses, which Plutarch estimates as equivalent to 20,000 talents.67 Finally, he despatched troops to the cities to ensure the collection of this indemnity, with instructions that they should be billeted at local expense and paid a substantial allowance of 4 tetradrachms per diem and other benefits; high-ranking tribuni militum received 50 drachms.68 The excessive allowance for his troops served twin purposes, assuaging their desire for plunder while incentivising swift collection on the part of the poleis.69 Both the fine and the soldiers’ allowance were tied to his immediate military needs and were an improvised response to his particular circumstances. After three years of warfare with no support from Rome and soon to engage in a major campaign in Italy, Sulla needed his troops’ loyalty and a war-chest.70 In lieu of earlier systemic exploitation, the explanation that Sulla sought to re-establish Rome’s revenues holds little water.71 Moreover, as long as his opponents held Rome, the orderly and ongoing extraction of taxes was also irrelevant to his goals: his needs were restricted to large amounts of cash and goods on hand. State-level fiscal considerations were almost certainly not germane to his decisions: political and military exigencies explain Sulla’s attested policies perfectly well. Even so, in the co-ordinated extraction of wealth from Asian communities to fund his own military activities, Sulla was undoubtedly taking and using spoils as defined in this volume, i. e., a transfer of resources deriving from military activity.72 In this, Sulla was engaging in something new. Typical practice saw spoils collected in the aftermath of a battle or sack directly from the defeated enemy on the field. At the conclusion of the campaign, the defeated opponent may have agreed to an indemnity as the price of 66

That said, Asian communities avoided the significant human cost of being sacked or having their population enslaved, on which note Pfuntner’s comments in this volume. 67 Plut. Sull. 25.2; Luc. 4.1. Böttcher (1915) 56–62; Broughton (1938) 561; Santangelo (2007) 114. Note here that there is no necessary requirement that the ‘tribute’ (φόρος) pre-dated this period, especially considering the new discriptio upon which this was based (Cassiod. Chron. p. 130 (Mommsen); Cic. Flacc. 32, QFr. 1.1.33. See Merola (2001) 108–109, 177–179. 68 Plut. Sull. 25.2. Magie (1950) 111, and Kallet-Marx (1995) 266–267, highlight that the demands were unusually high. Note further Sallust’s claim that Sulla’s troops were corrupted by the wealth of Asia (Hist. 1.13; Cat. 11.5–6). Cf. Mastrocinque (1999) 91; Santangelo (2007) 108, 113. 69 See Keaveney (2005) 297–298. Compare Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume on the revolt of Roman troops at Sucro in 205. 70 Plut. Sull. 27.3. Zoumbaki (2018) 354–357. Again, pointing to the intimate relationship between ad hoc pillaging and the compensation of troops, as discussed by Cabezas-Guzmán & Ñaco del Hoyo in this volume for second-century Spain. 71 E. g. Santangelo (2007) 112; Dreyer (2015) 209–210. 72 Roselaar & Helm in this volume, as opposed to more traditional definitions of spolia or manubiae (e. g. Churchill (1999) 85–116; Le Bohec (1999) 837–838).

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peace; as Mithridates appears to have done after Dardanus.73 However, in imposing a collective penalty on the inhabitants of the provincia, which had by-and-large abandoned Mithridates, and collecting it systematically with his troops, Sulla inaugurated a new era of Roman extortion of allied communities.74 In the lead-up to and aftermath of civil wars in the first century, a procession of commanders extorted bullion and coin from cities in the eastern provinces to support their war efforts and buy loyalty from their supporters. For example, both the Pompeian forces from 51–48 and those of Brutus and Cassius in 43–42 sought to appropriate funds from allied and provincial communities, the latter going so far as to sack those which resisted.75 More directly comparable are the settlements of victors in civil wars after their conclusion. Caesar in 48 and Antonius in 41 both followed Sulla’s lead in summoning representatives of provincial communities to Ephesus, making decisions on their punishments and rewards, before levying money from them.76 Cicero also mentions cities which had paid to be granted immunitas, which was later removed by the Senate.77 Sulla’s response to the specific set of circumstances facing him, provincial communities which had aided – or at least failed to resist – an enemy of Rome, restive troops and further conflict on the horizon, led him to methodically extract resources from the cities of Asia and laid down a blueprint for his emulators in the following generation. When Sulla addressed the assembled representatives of Asia at Ephesus, no framework existed to collect such large sums of cash and, in any case, Roman social and financial networks had been disrupted by the Asian Vespers in 88.78 Accordingly, Sulla designed an ad hoc system, producing a discriptio dividing the provincia into 44 regiones.79 While this formula was employed by later commanders, notably Cn. Pompeius Magnus and L. Valerius Flaccus, it did not map onto other modes of Roman provincial organisation, such as the conventus, nor relate obviously to the later organisation of provincial taxes.80 This reflects Sulla’s unprecedented position and his need for haste.

73 For indemnities as a proportion of state income in the second century: Frank (1933) 127–138. 74 Abandoning Mithridates: IK. Ephesos. 8; App. Mith. 48. Note also the continued presence of pro-Roman individuals and groups within Asia from 88–85, including Chaeremon of Nysa (RDGE 48; RC 73b–74) and Pyrrha[kos] of Alabanda (ISE 3.169). See Campanile (1996); Niebergall (2011) 7–20. 75 Pompeians: Caes. BCiv. 3.31–33, 105; Brutus and Cassius: App. BC 4.63–82; Dio 47.31.1–4, 33.1–34.6; Plut. Brut. 30.1–32.4; Val. Max. 1.5.8; Vell. Pat. 2.69.6. 76 Caesar: Caes. BCiv. 3.105; App. BC 2.92; Dio 42.49.1–50.5; Antonius: App. BC 5.4–6; Plut. Ant. 23.1– 24.5; Joseph. BJ 1.242. Octavian may also have done so in one of his three visits between late 31 and early 29, but direct evidence is lacking. 77 Cic. Off. 3.87. Mastrocinque (1999) 92. 78 Brunt (1956/1990) contra Delplace (1977) 246–247. 79 Cassiod. Chron. p. 130 (Mommsen). Magie (1950) 1117–1118, with criticism of earlier literature. Cf. Gray (1978) 971–973; Mitchell (1999) 29–30. 80 Cic. Flacc. 32. This is insufficient to represent the number of poleis within Asia, while the earliest evidence for the conventus implies that there were twelve districts, which precludes an easy identifi-

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His exactions from Asia were not regular contributions to the state, but an extra-ordinary and spontaneous levy to satisfy his needs. Nevertheless, the decision to strip the majority of poleis in provincia Asia of their freedom and subject them to the jurisdiction of Roman governors was far-reaching. It exposed their citizens and territories to regular Roman taxation in the form of the decuma and scriptura for the first time.81 Unlike the situation upon Asia’s entry into Roman hegemony, during the 80s and early 70s Rome’s finances were in a difficult state, due in part to a plethora of ongoing, expensive foreign wars.82 Critically, as noted, the lex Sempronia already regulated the decuma in Asia, mandating its auction as a single concern to publicani by the censors at Rome (and continued to do so until at least 61).83 However, the flexibility of Roman legislation ensured that the major increase in territory affected did not materially undermine its application. The new ‘subjection’ of many cities in Asia simply made it ‘appropriate’ for the decuma, and likely the scriptura, of their territories to be included by magistrates in the text of leges locationis. This explanation accounts for the unusual employment in Asia of publicani to collect taxes directly gathered by poleis, which was exceedingly rare before this period. This was likely not Sulla’s intended outcome, but a result of the confluence between his decisions and existing legislation as enforced by later magistrates. Here, Caesar’s reduction of Asian tax-rates by one third in 48 is particularly instructive. It coincided with the removal of the publicani from their privileged position in Asia and the reintroduction of local collection of the decuma. Thus, for Tan, it represents, at minimum, the publican profit-­ margin and expenses of the city-based system which replaced it.84 Moreover, simply put, another effective – and less punitive – means of taxing Asia existed, namely, the discriptio introduced to collect the fine levied in 85. After Sulla’s departure for the west, no censorial lustrum was completed until 70: as such, different arrangements were necessary. The lex portoria Asiae describes a lex locationis issued by the consuls of 75. After the societates publicanorum had acquired this position, normalised after Sulla’s retirement from public life, structural factors made it immensely difficult to change. The publicani and other equites held a critical position not only as regards returning magistrates – note here their key role as jurors in the quaestio de repetundis from 123–81 and again, though less pronounced, from 70 – but

cation with this organising principle (Broughton (1938) 518–519; Magie (1950) 1116; Merola (2001) 177–179, pace Gray (1978) 971–974; Mitchell (1999) 29–30; Kantor (2014) 256–257. 81 App. Mith. 118. Kallet-Marx (1995) 265–266. 82 Highlighted by the measure of Philippus to reinstate taxation on communities exempted by Sulla (Cic. Off. 3.87). Cf. App. BC 1.111. 83 Cic. 2 Verr. 3.13. On the lex Sempronia’s citation in 61: Schol. Bob. Stangl 155; Cic. Planc. 24. Cf. Cic. Att. 1.17.9. See Broughton (1938) 537. 84 App. BC 5.4; Dio 42.6.3; Plut. Caes. 48. Brunt (1990) 380–381; Tan (2017) 55 contra Badian (1972) 116–117.

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more crucially in facilitating an individual’s rise to office in the first place.85 A model of institutional path dependency, which emphasises that such changes are difficult to reverse, once implemented and when against the interests of actors with leverage, highlights the harsh reality facing even those Roman actors with concerns.86 Even after the restoration of the tribunate later that decade, it would be a brave legislator who sought to alter this arrangement.87 The new province-wide tax-farm was the worst of all possible worlds. If its introduction resulted from an improvised process based on Sulla’s personal motives then this anomaly is easily explained, with the further implication that he did not intend to maximise public income at the expense of the provinces. V Implications and Consequences Finally, I briefly examine the consequences of large-scale exploitation in Asia from the mid-70s onwards. The result of Sulla’s ‘settlement’ in Asia was a major shift in the dynamics of Roman imperialism and the economic networks within the Mediterranean. Prior to this, I have argued, there was no emphasis placed by the Roman state on consistent and extensive wealth extraction: it ran contrary to the senatorial fiscal consensus in the formative period for Asia’s administration. The implementation of a province-wide tax farm let at Rome encompassing duties levied on civic territory had no precedent. Given that most civic communities had previously not paid direct taxes to Rome and the underlying (agricultural) wealth of the region, irrespective of the cut taken by the publicani, we can surmise a significant increase in public revenue deriving from the Sullan settlement. The influx of revenue had a noticeable impact on Rome’s internal politics: the greater availability of public money prompted a renewed drive among populist figures towards high expenditure measures. Ti. Gracchus sought to appropriate the revenues of Asia in 133; and we have seen how his brother reorganised the decuma to suit his own purposes.88 After the original organisation of the provincia in the 120s, Rome’s military and domestic costs had increased, due to the increasing recruitment from poorer citizens and expensive measures imitating the Gracchi. After the First Mithridatic War,

E. g. Davenport (2019) 75–84. Cf. Cicero’s argument in Leg. Man. 14–17, grounded in the physical and financial interests of the equites. 86 North (1995) 15–20; Pierson (2004) 20–21. Note Greif ’s (2006) observations of institutional change in medieval trading communities and Mackil (2013) applying this insight to the formation of Hellenistic κοινά. 87 Compare Tan’s recent assessment (2017) 149–156, of the violent resistance to the Gracchi, emphasising the threat to vested interests both of the reforms themselves and the framework they provided to delegitimise the status quo. More generally, on escalating factors of political violence: Tilly (2003) esp. 75–77. 88 Plut. Ti. Gracch. 14.1. 85

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this tendency became even more pronounced. Once begun, this trend, through its own inertia, encouraged the intense competition which characterised the last decades of Republican government.89 Accordingly, Rome’s fiscal, and therefore political, gaze moved eastwards, as seen in Cicero’s paean for the fruits of the provincia Asia and its centrality to the res publica’s survival in his speech de lege Manilia.90 The systemic exploitation of local communities might have begun, but the big winners were the societates publicanorum: there was little incentive in this arrangement for the Senate or the serving magistrates of the Roman populus. The vast, easy profits flowed through to private (primarily non-senatorial) individuals, with some benefits for commanders in Asia willing to assist their path to collection. The direct corollary of this change was the consistent maltreatment of provincials by Roman citizens – put another way, the intense unhappiness of the local population was directly attributable to Rome and Romans, which I have already alluded to.91 Indeed, when Cicero, speaking in favour of the lex Manilia in 66, sought to convince a contio to appoint Cn. Pompeius to the Mithridatic command, he dwelt on the private, as well as the public, impact of an invasion of Asia: the threat to property, wealth, and lives of Roman negotiatores, as well as publicani, are highlighted. He notes that from a state perspective, reacquiring from the publicani the revenues lost would not be difficult, where the loss of investments to private individuals could be catastrophic.92 The revenues of Asia catalysed the formation of new interest-groups among the ­equites. However, a distinct set of circumstances allowed them to acquire and entrench their power in the provincia. When the kingdom of Attalus III was originally organised as a province, entrepreneurial groups could lobby for a favourable outcome, but their leverage over the Senate, or individual senators, was limited. The lex Sempronia de provincia Asia created an ongoing concern and C. Gracchus’ alterations to jury composition and the lex repetundarum gave the publicani and their backers institutional power vis-à-vis individual magistrates.93 The archetypal example is the conviction of Rutilius Rufus. That said, the tendency of the Senate to support local communities in disputes with the publicani in this period highlights the limits of equestrian influence.94 Their capacity to generate positive legislative change was also limited. However, after Sulla’s decisions interacted with existing legislation, Asia’s taxation was set up in a manner which favoured private interests. Institutional inertia and the power of established interest groups to resist change took over.95 Despite growing concerns among E. g. the lex Clodia frumentaria, on which Tatum (1999) 119–125; the proposed lex agraria of Rullus, on which Manuwald (2018) xx–xxviii. Note also Tan (2017) 27. 90 Cic. Leg. Man. 14–17. 91 Tan (2017) esp. 77–78. 92 Eberle & Le Quéré (2017) 37–39. 93 Brunt (1988) 150–156. 94 E. g. RDGE 12; I.Priene2 67; Strabo 14.1.26. Tan (2017) 45–54. Cf. Wallace (2014) 50–62. 95 Levi (1988) 85–93. 89

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some senators over the exploitation of the provinces during 60s and 50s, the costs of an individual stance could be grave. For example, Lucullus’ attempts to ameliorate the economic crisis gripping Asia is often linked to his removal from the Mithridatic command. Similarly, A. Gabinius’ resistance to publicani in Syria, condemned by Cicero, may have contributed to his conviction in the repetundae court.96 The recognition of the problematic elements of Asian tax-farm meshes with the increasing evidence from the 60s onwards of growing concern among the elite for the protection of provincials from abuses. This appears prominently in the self-aggrandising rhetoric of Cicero’s Cilician correspondence 51–50, but Morrell has highlighted the existence of similar themes in the de lege Manilia: Pompeius’ moral character and its effect on local populations is emphasised more than his military qualities.97 We have evidence from this period for the increasing prominence of the ‘Stoic’ rhetoric of just empire in public discourse. Most notably, Cicero and Cato present provincials as akin to citizens and worthy of protection, though their views seem to reflect a broader consensus.98 However, above all, Cicero levels practical arguments in favour of just treatment in his public pronouncements. Restraint prevented rebellion and disaffection, as well as ensuring prompt payment for the publicani themselves. In this context, it is unsurprising that one of Caesar’s first actions upon achieving military dominance was to unilaterally remove the tax-farm for the Asian decuma.99 Throughout its operation, the system had a significant impact on Roman fiscal and political development, greatly increasing public revenues and reorientating Rome’s geopolitical focus towards the East. VI Conclusions This enquiry has been limited to state revenue and whether the leaders and institutions of the res publica sought to maximise the flow of resources from provincia Asia. Although I am not arguing here that the administration did not structurally favour the aggrandisement of substantial private profits for Roman actors at the expense of local communities during the first century BCE, the weight of evidence suggests that the Senate and magistrates did not seek to maximise available revenue, rather, on the whole, they sought to restrict new income streams when establishing the structure of the new provincia between 133 and 126. The direct evidence for taxation in Asia suggests Generally, Badian (1972); Brunt (1988) 152–153. E. g. Lucullus’ actions against the publicani, linked by some scholars to his removal from the Mithridatic command (Keaveney (1992) 114–115; though note the caution of Tröster (2008) 86 n. 42; and A. Gabinius’ resistance to publicani in Syria, condemned by Cicero (Cic. Prov. cons. 10; cf. Pis. 41, 48). See Braund (1983) 241–244. 97 Tröster (2009) 25–27; Morrell (2017) 59–62, 71–72, 77–82. Cf. Röthe (1978) 60–66; Gruber (1988) 243–258. 98 Griffin (1989) 34–37; Morrell (2017) 99–101. Cf. Asmis (2005) 407–412. 99 App. BC 5.4; Dio 42.6.3; Plut. Caes. 48. See Neesen (1980) 12–13. 96

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a limited suite of fiscally extractive measures, even after the passage of the lex Sempronia de provincia Asia, targeted primarily at the former royal territory rather than the civic communities freed under the terms of Attalus III’s testament. This makes sense in the context of the active assistance offered by the poleis of Asia to Rome during the Aristonican war: to find the cities punished with new financial imposts despite the universal grant of freedom would cut against normal practice. Moreover, Tan’s argument in favour of a consensus among the senatorial elite in favour of limited state revenue is compelling. This was not universal: the policies, and fates, of the two Gracchi, among others, highlight an ongoing tension around this issue. However, the consensus against expanded state revenue fits neatly within current paradigms of Roman elite behaviour. Taken together, these two points highlight the degree to which the res publica and its institutions did not seek to maximise the revenue it received from the new province. That said, some public revenue did begin to flow from the former Attalid kingdom to Rome. The former βασιλικὴ χώρα, converted into ager publicus following typical practice, eventually became ager privatus vectigalisque as a result of the disputed politics of fiscality at Rome. The lex Sempronia de provincia Asia regulated the administration of the decuma in broad terms, until it was upended by the First Mithridatic War. Sulla was afforded a blank slate of sorts: the formerly allied communities had largely failed to resist Mithridates, a significant transgression against the res publica. Even so, his decisions were predicated on his own dire fiscal needs rather than longer-term strategy to extract revenue in an orderly fashion. These interacted with existing legislation in ways unanticipated, and frankly unimportant, to Sulla in 85. The absence of intent behind what would become the tax-farm for the Asian decuma would offer small comfort to the inhabitants of the region, but I argue it is important for understanding how Roman decision-makers conceived of their empire. Such an explanation fits well the ad hoc nature of interventions in Spain and Cicero’s link of ‘stipendiary’ taxation with defeat in war. The evolved state of the first century had greater fiscal demands as a result of extended warfare and increased domestic spending. The initial windfall from Asia in the early 70s may explain the potential application of similar systems in other areas of Asia Minor later.100 The impact of Asian revenues on political and social developments in Rome was significant. Cicero’s excursus on the Asian revenues in de lege Manilia described a recently realised situation. Roman intervention and presence in the East were limited before 88: by contrast, active conquest of territory and establishment of permanent administration increased significantly in the aftermath. The new flow of revenue into Rome from Asia after a period of fiscal constraint reinforced to elites the potential private and public gains available. The accumulation of surplus revenues at Rome, how100 E. g. Badian (1972) 99. Broughton (1938) 533, and Sherwin-White (1984) 232–233 prefer a modified system; Brunt (1988) 188–189, highlights the lack of evidence. See discussion at Morrell (2017) 79–80.

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ever, also offered a tempting target for some politicians to attempt major increases in public spending. The private investors in the societates publicanorum, who formed an increasingly powerful interest group with the capacity to impede changes to the status quo, however, became the main beneficiaries. The revenues of Asia then, though only systematically exploited after the First Mithridatic War, undeniably had a significant and crucial impact on the evolution of the res publica. Bradley Jordan University of Oslo [email protected]

Impact of Spoils on Roman Italy

Problems and Opportunities of Warfare in Allied Territory in the Second Punic War Simon Lentzsch I Introduction In the year 210, in the midst of the Second Punic War, a group of Sicilian envoys, sent by the city of Syracuse, appeared in front of the Senate in Rome to express their accusations against M. Claudius Marcellus, one of the two consuls of the year.1 Marcellus was one of the most successful generals of the Roman Middle Republic, and rose to even greater prestige in the Second Punic War after the disastrous defeats at Lake Trasimene ( June 217) and at Cannae (presumably August 216). Although Rome’s armies suffered enormous losses in the years 218 to 216, Marcellus was able to reorganize Roman troops and confront Hannibal’s army in open battle in Campania without being defeated, a notable achievement at the time.2 By far his greatest success, however, was the capture of Syracuse, the capital of eastern Sicily, probably in late 212 (or early 211), which was followed by a complete looting of the city. According to Livy, the Romans acquired spoils in Syracuse “in such quantity as there would scarcely have been if Carthage […] had at the time been captured.”3 Although this statement may be an exaggeration, there can be no doubt that the capture of the Sicilian metropolis and its treasures “marked a turning-point in the war of attrition”, which Rome had had to fight against Carthage since the defeats of the first years of the conflict. This impression is supported by a

1 2

3

The whole episode in Liv. 26.30.1–32.8. The Sicilian embassy is also mentioned at Val. Max. 4.1.7; Plut. Marc. 23; Zon. 9.6. Unless otherwise specified, all dates refer to years BCE. All translations are taken from the editions in the Loeb Classical Library, if not otherwise mentioned. On the course of the war during its first years see Seibert (1993a) 75–325; Lazenby (1998) 29–124; Le Bohec (1996) 158–224; Daly (2002) 8–17; Heftner (2005) 201–242; Clark (2014) 52–75; Rosenstein (2012) 127–145; Sommer (2020) 155–185. On Marcellus’ role in the Second Punic War after the Battle of Cannae up until the year 210 see e. g. Beck (2005a) 308–319. Looting of the city: Plb. 9.10; Liv. 25.31.8–11. On the capture of Syracuse see Lazenby (1998) 106– 108, 115–119; Seibert (1993a) 314–318; Edwell (2011) 328–329. Seibert (1993b) 286–291 is a discussion of the chronology of military operations and diplomatic activities on Sicily for the years 215–211.

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passage in the Histories of Polybius who claims that “there were good reasons for appropriating all the gold and silver” of Syracuse, “for it was impossible for them [the Romans] to aim at a world empire without weakening the resources of other peoples and strengthening their own”. Polybius would have hardly included this statement in his narrative of the fall of Syracuse if he had not had the impression that the spoils of this victory were enormous. In addition to that, Marcellus received embassies from a number of Sicilian cities which had defected to the Carthaginians before but now “received terms from the victor”.4 Despite the rich and desperately needed spoils, the sack of the city was a delicate issue. Syracuse had for decades enjoyed a special relationship to Rome and had, in fact, been one of Rome’s most important and loyal allies. This alliance had started in the first years of the First Punic War, when the Syracusan king Hieron II changed sides and was henceforth regarded as Rome’s most reliable friend and ally in the Magna Graecia. This alliance came to an abrupt end after Hieron’s death in 214, when members of the Syracusan elite decided to defect from the Roman to the Carthaginian side.5 Nevertheless, some of the pro-Roman Syracusans apparently still held clout in Rome in 210. According to Livy, the envoys from Syracuse reminded the Roman senators of this history of alliance and friendship and claimed that the city had only changed sides because of Marcellus’ cruel plundering of the Sicilian city of Leontinoi before (in 214), and implored the Senate to restore at least those parts of the plunder to their owners which were “visible and could be identified”.6 In the subsequent discussion, some senators supported this claim and called to mind the old alliance, as well as more recent support which the Romans had received from Hieron after their defeats against Hannibal. They even evoked the picture of the Sicilian king and asked if he “most faithful in his devotion to the Roman empire, should rise from the lower world, with what face could they show him either Syracuse or Rome, when after a backward look at his native city, half-ruined and despoiled, upon entering Rome he was to see in the forecourt of the city, almost at the gate, the spoils of his own city?”7 Although, thus Livy, these words “were spoken in order to arouse hatred against the consul and pity for the Sicilians; the Senate nevertheless adopted a milder decree”. The acts of Marcellus “during his conduct of the war and as victor” were ratified. However,

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On the character of war after the Battle of Cannae (216) see below n. 18. Cf. Ñaco del Hoyo (2011) 379 (“a turning point in the war of attrition”) and Hoyos (2015) 163. Surrender of other Sicilian cities: Liv. 25.40.4. Cf. on this Seibert (1993a) 316–317. On Syracuse’s role in the First Punic War, its alliance with Rome and the importance of Hieron II as Roman ally in Magna Graecia see (all with further references) Lazenby (1998) 102–105; Lehmler (2005) 50–59; Edwell (2011) 326; Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 311. Liv. 26.30.10 (orare se patres conscriptos ut si nequeant omnia, saltem quae compareant cognosci que possint restitui dominis iubeant.). See also Pfuntner in this volume. The capture of Leontinoi is reported in Liv. 24.30.1. Liv. 26.32.4–5. Cf. Lehmler (2005) 13.

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“for the future the Syracusan state would be cared for by the Senate”, and the latter would instruct the consul M. Valerius Laevinus “to take measures for the property of its citizens so far as could be done without loss to the republic”.8 After this debate in the Senate, Marcellus went to Southern Italy in order to face the Carthaginian troops in Lucania and, later, in Apulia.9 His colleague M. Valerius Laevinus was now in charge of the Roman forces on Sicily – neither on the island nor in Italy had the war come to an end.10 II Issues and Outline The fate of Syracuse, once one of Rome’s most important allies, which was then captured and plundered by the Romans when the political circumstances had changed in the course of the war, brings us to the topic of this contribution. In what follows, this paper will focus on different forms of plundering especially in Southern Italy during the Second Punic War, in a region, therefore, where the Romans, as in the case of Syracuse, often operated on territories of both loyal communities as well as those who had defected to Hannibal after Cannae. Especially the regions in Southern Italy suffered for a longer time and to a larger degree than other parts of Italy from the conflict between Rome and Carthage, which lasted for another decade, even after Marcellus’ triumphant capture of Syracuse.11 However, as a number of instructive studies have recently shown, the people of Southern Italy were not solely at the mercy of the two greater powers in this conflict. A closer look reveals how these communities and cities pursued their own goals in local conflicts and rivalries, which often had begun long before the emergence of the Punic Wars.12 During the Second Punic war, especially in the years after the Battle of Cannae, this situation was further complicated by the presence of huge Roman and Carthaginian forces. The Romans waged war not only against Hannibal’s armies, but also against a considerable number of their former allies who had now defected to the Barcid general. It were their territories, people and resources which the Romans wanted to reintegrate into their commonwealth.13 Furthermore, 8 9 10 11 12 13

Liv. 26.32.6–7. For a pointed overview of Marcellus’ activities in the further course of the war, see Beck (2005a) 319–327. Lazenby (1998) 157–192. Erdkamp (1998) 208–269 provides an in-depth study of the impact of the war on the regions and people of central and southern Italy. See also Cornell (1996). See on this esp. Fronda (2010); Rawlings (2011), cf. also Fronda & Gauthier (2018), esp. 313, and see the older but still useful survey of the Second Punic War in southern Italy by Kukofka (1990). Cf. now also Sommer (2020) 198–202. Cf. e. g. Cornell (1996) 103, and see Liv. 22.61.11–12 for a list of allies who defected to Hannibal in the aftermath of Cannae – note, however, that not all of those cities which Livy mentions in this passage defected immediately after the Battle of Cannae – (Atellani, Calatini, Hirpini, Apulorum

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Rome had to protect those cities which were still loyal and, therefore, subject to attacks by Hannibal’s army or by his allies. The Carthaginian general himself had to face very similar problems, since he was also forced to protect those Italian cities and communities against Roman revenge which had defected to his side in the first years of the war.14 However, this complex constellation created not only problems but also new opportunities, especially regarding the overarching topic of this volume – the acquisition and distribution of spoils of war, as it took place among the various parties involved: the Romans, the Carthagini­ ans, and also the local players in Southern Italy. After a brief outline of the military and political situation for Romans and Carthaginians after the first years of the war, these problems and opportunities will be addressed in the following parts of this paper. III Challenges and Strategies As mentioned above, before the capture of Syracuse and a number of victories in the following years, the Roman side had suffered a number of severe setbacks, among them two of the most disastrous defeats in the military history of the Republic, at Lake Trasimene and at Cannae.15 This had far-reaching consequences for the course of the war, because after this series of defeats against Hannibal’s army and the defection of numerous allies to the Carthaginians, Rome’s situation was further complicated by a severe financial crisis.16 Both the enormous casualties of the first years of the war and the high proportion of Roman citizens now permanently under arms resulted in a lack of funds, since many of those citizens were no longer paying the tributum.17 Furthermore, after the Battle of Cannae, Rome changed its strategy of directly confronting Hannibal, which resulted in additional problems. Roman army commanders now avoided meeting Hannibal on the battlefield, instead preferring to engage in a lengthy

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pars, Samnites praeter Pentros, Bruttii omnes, Lucani, praeter hos Uzentini et Graecorum omnis ferme ora, Tarentini, Metapontini, Crotonienses Locrique, et Cisalpini omnes Galli). Tarentum and Metapontum, for instance, chose the Carthaginian side only in 213/212. Cf. Kukofka (1990) 24; Lazenby (1996b) 44 (“by 212 over 40 % of the allies were no longer available to Rome”); Lomas (2011) 344–345; Rawlings (2011) 308–309, 312–313 (all with further references). On Hannibal’s strategy in Italy and its problems, see Kukofka (1990) 33–34, 83–84; Le Bohec (1996) 211–218; Fronda (2010) 34–37. Cf. Erskine (1993); Lomas (2011) 343–344; Rawlings (2011) 308; Sommer (2020) 171–175. Cf. above n. 2. Crawford (1974) 35–46, esp. 43; Burnett (2012) 310; Woytek (2012) 315. Cf. also Seibert (1993b) 360–361; Rosenstein (2012) 156–157; Clark (2014) 85–87; Kay (2014) 26; Bleckmann (2016) 93. Although the casualty numbers given in the historiographical accounts (esp. Polybius and Livy) are not beyond doubt, it is unquestionable that Roman losses – not only but especially – in the first years of the war were extremely high. Cf. e. g. Erdkamp (2011) 67; Clark (2014) 63.

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war of attrition against the Carthaginian invaders.18 Because of this strategy and the massive losses in the first years of the war, the aerarium ran dry.19 In addition, the Romans suffered a shortage of grain supplies from their provinces in Sardinia and Sicily, especially after the defection of Syracuse and large parts of Campania, which seems to have caused serious logistical problems.20 At the same time, the success of Hannibal’s strategy paradoxically created serious problems and challenges for the Carthaginians. Hannibal had successfully undermined the bonds between the Romans and their allies with the promise of freedom for the Italians and his crushing victories over the Romans, which induced several cities, especially in Apulia, Campania, Bruttium and in South-East Italy to defect.21 Since he had promised them freedom from Roman rule, the Carthaginian general was now obliged to protect his newly-won allies against Roman revenge expeditions. These obligations made it difficult to adopt a more offensive strategy, which had been so successful in the years 218–216, and forced Hannibal to restrict his operations to Southern Italy, thus, as we will see, creating a state of permanent chaos, conflict, and plundering in this region. Moreover, in some cases the “the prolonged quartering of [Hannibal’s] troops” within allied cities “over time probably engendered feelings of resentment from the local population.”22

18 19

20 21 22

For an overview and a pointed analysis of this phase of the war see e. g. (all with further references) Lazenby (1998) 90–102, 108–115, 119–124; Fronda (2010) 234–279; Rawlings (2011) 304–308; Clark (2014) 81–91; Sommer (2020) 198–202. This is explicitly noted in different passages. See e. g. Liv. 23.21.1–5, 23.31.1–2, 23.48.4–9, 24.18.2, 24.18.10. Livy also emphasizes a number of emergency – or, at least, unusual – measures, which the Senate conducted to fund the continuation of the war: 24.11.7–9; 24.18.12–15. The lex Oppia of the year 215 may also best interpreted against the background of the Republic’s financial crisis, since the law’s “regulation limiting citizen’s women’s display of wealth” was probably an answer to “tensions that might have arisen over an appearance of prosperity amid such great collective sacrifice” (Clark (2014) 85). See also Seibert (1993a) 229. Most explicit in Liv. 23.48.7. See, with further references, Erdkamp (1998) 86–88, 166–171; Rawlings (2011) 311. See e. g. Fronda (2010) 36–37, and cf. above n. 12 and 13. See Fronda (2010) 262–263 (quote on 262) for a convincing analysis of the situation in Taras, and see also ibd. 277 (situation in Locri). See also Erdkamp (1998) 178; Rawlings (2011) 315. Fronda (2010) 235, points out, that “Hannibal faced the bitter irony that his impressive military and diplomatic success placed him in a strategic situation that was probably more difficult to manage than it would have been had he failed to elicit as many allied revolts. On the one hand, he had not won over enough Italian communities to overcome Rome’s advantage in manpower, nor even to mitigate it to a significant decree. On the other hand, Hannibal now found himself committed to protecting a host of new allies, which surely drained resources from his main objective of bringing the Romans to terms.” See also Fronda’s more detailed analysis in Fronda (2010) 235–279, and cf. Rosenstein (2012) 153–154.

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IV Looting Southern Italy: Problems and Opportunities for Romans, Carthaginians and Italians The confinement of the Carthaginian troops to Southern Italy and the ensuing tensions with their local allies was all the more worrisome, since the Carthaginians were never able to build up a regular and reliable supply line from Northern Africa or Spain to Italy, especially to Central and Southern Italy, where Hannibal’s army operated in the years following the victory at Cannae. Consequently, Hannibal was forced to rely on the support of his Italian allies and to live off the land in Central and Southern Italy.23 As a result, “the search for supplies influenced Hannibal’s strategy on many ­occasions”.24 Furthermore, the Carthaginian general used plundering as an element of his strategy, which aimed at weakening his enemies not only by reducing their ­resources, but also by eroding Rome’s reputation among its allies.25 If the Romans seemed no longer able to protect them, why should the communities of Italy stay loyal to Rome, especially those who had fallen under Rome’s control only recently?26 The case of Petelia demonstrates Rome’s inability to protect even its most loyal allies in Southern Italy. In the aftermath of Cannae, contrary to most of the other Bruttians, Petelia had stayed loyal.27 Soon, Carthaginian and Bruttian forces began to attack the city. Since they were not able to defend their city by themselves, the Petelians sought help in Rome.28 The senators, however, “after surveying all the resources of the empire, were compelled to admit that they themselves no longer had any means to protect distant allies”. Therefore, they “ordered them to return home, and having fulfilled their obligation to the last, to shift for themselves for the future as best the situation permitted”.29 Soon after this decision, the Carthaginian army conquered Petelia and nearby Consentia, while the troops of their Bruttian allies were able to take Croton.30

23

It has often been assumed that it was one of Hannibal’s strategic goals to conquer a sea-port in order to be able to install such a supply line. Cf. Liv. 24.13.5 and see on this e. g. Seibert (1993a) 258–259. See also Fronda (2010) 272. Erdkamp (1998) 172–173 doubts that “Hannibal was as anxious to capture a harbour as Livy wants to have us believe” (172), but agrees that – especially from the year 216 on – “the most serious weakness of Hannibal was the inadequacy of his food supply” (173). See also Erdkamp (1998) 181–186 on the logistics of Hannibal’s army in Italy. 24 Rawlings (2011) 305. See also Erdkamp (2011) 72–75. On several aspects of foraging in ancient warfare in general, see Erdkamp (1998) 122–140. 25 On Hannibal’s raiding parties on the territories of Romans and their still loyal allies see e. g. Liv. 22.12.6, 22.13.1, 22.13.10–11, 23.15.6, 23.17.4–7, 23.44.6, 24.20.16. 26 Cf. Erdkamp (1998) 163; Beck (2005a) 288; Rawlings (2016) 229–230. 27 On Petelia’s resistance see Plb. 7.1.3; Liv. 23.20.4–10, 23.30.1–2. Cf. (with further references) Kukofka (1990) 11–15; Seibert (1993a) 208–209, 215, 235; Fronda (2010) 155. 28 Liv. 23.20.4–5. 29 Liv. 23.20. Liv. 23.20.6: consultique iterum M. Aemilio praetore patres circumspectis omnibus imperii viribus fateri coacti, nihil iam longinquis sociis in se praesidii esse, redire domum fideque ad ultimum expleta consulere sibimet ipsos in reliquum praesenti fortuna iusserunt. 30 Liv. 23.30.1–7.

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The involvement of the Bruttians in these events hints at another aspect of the topic of spoils of war during the Second Punic War, namely the expectations of the allies to turn the complicated strategic situation to their material advantage. As several recent studies have shown, the decision on whether to stay loyal to Rome or defect to Carthage was the result of a complex process which included specific political, diplomatic, historical, military and economic factors, which differed from region to region and from city to city.31 In the case of the Bruttians, the prospect of material gain seems to have been an important factor to break with Rome and join the Carthaginian side. According to Livy, a year after the fall of Petelia, the people of Locri surrendered to Hannibal in order to prevent the siege and pillaging of their city.32 Apparently, this was a heavy disappointment for the Bruttians, who were “indignant because they had left Regium and Locri untouched, the cities which they had counted upon plundering”.33 Therefore, they enlisted 15,000 men and made ready to besiege Croton, “believing that it would be a great addition to their resources if they should hold a fortified city and harbor on the sea-coast”.34 To the Bruttians, this wish might have appeared justified, since the whole account suggests that they expected to gain material profit from their alliance with Hannibal, and the Carthaginian general probably had promised them opportunities to plunder “in order to secure [their] loyalty”.35 The Bruttian ambitions, however, brought Hannibal in an uncomfortable situation, since he had begun his Italian campaign with the promise of freedom to the Italians and now had to accept the plundering of a famous and old Greek city by southern Italic tribes. Therefore, his subordinate Hanno made clear to the Bruttians that he would not support their attack on Croton – a clear signal of disapproval by the Carthaginians.36 Interestingly, the Carthaginians were not able to persuade their allies to abandon the siege of Croton, and when the Bruttians had already conquered large parts of the city, Hanno was forced to convince the people of Croton to leave their city and to move to nearby Locri.37 Apparently, the Carthaginians were not able to control their Bruttian

31 32 33 34 35

36 37

For a comprehensive study, see Fronda (2010). Cf. also Kukofka (1990); Lomas (2011) 350–351. Liv. 24.1.2–13. Liv. 24.2.1: Sic a freto Poeni reducti frementibus Bruttiis quod Regium ac Locros, quas urbes direpturos se destinaverant, intactas reliquissent. Liv. 24.2.2–3: Itaque per se ipsi conscriptis armatisque iuventutis suae quindecim milibus ad Crotonem oppugnandum pergunt ire, Graecam et ipsam urbem et maritimam, plurimum accessurum opibus, si in ora maris urbem ac portum moenibus validam tenuissent, credentes. Cf. Fronda (2010) 162: “Livy’s description of events implies that the Bruttians expected to gain plunder or territory by siding with Hannibal, and it is possible that Hannibal made such promises in order to secure Bruttian loyalty.” See also Kukofka (1990) 18–19; Rawlings (2011) 314; Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 315–316, and cf. Lomas (2011) 348. Liv. 24.2.6–8. Liv. 24.3.11–15.

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allies, who acted solely in their own interests, even if this interfered with Hannibal’s overall strategy in Southern Italy.38 This episode allows a rare opportunity to get a closer look at those people that had not been able to engage in local raiding under Roman rule and it can be assumed that such raids between neighbouring communities were more frequent than our sources report, since they often focus on more wide-scale operations of Romans and Carthagini­ans.39 The Bruttian attack on Croton also demonstrates that the support that Hannibal received from his newly-won allies was in more than one way a doubleedged-sword. The alliance with some of the southern Italian peoples almost inevitably led to raids on territory of other cities, which evidently undermined Hannibal’s claim to bring freedom from Roman suppression and a new political architecture for postwar Italy.40 Furthermore, such unauthorized military operations by allied troops were also suited to contribute to a more fragmented and chaotic political landscape, which would be more difficult to control. Apparently, Hannibal was well aware of this and of the danger it posed for the continuation of his campaign in Italy. Although it was unsuccessful, his subordinate Hanno tried to prevent the Bruttian attack on Croton and Hannibal also seems to have restrained his troops on other occasions. For instance, Livy notes that, when in the year 214 the Carthaginians marched on Tarentum, “they did no damage, and nowhere did they leave the road. And it was plain that this was not due to the self-restraint of the soldiers, but to the commander’s orders, for the purpose of winning over the Tarentines”.41 Later, when the Tarentines defected to him, he ordered them to mark the doors of their own houses, since he announced that “he would order that at a given signal such houses as were not marked”, presumably the houses of supporters of the Roman side and of Roman inhabitants of Tarentum, “should at once be plundered”, and in-

38

See Seibert (1993a) 239–240 (at 240: “Die neuen Verbündeten bereiteten Hannibal Schwierigkeiten, mit denen er wohl kaum gerechnet hatte. Nicht die Unterstützung der gemeinsamen Sache stand für sie im Vordergrund, sondern die Verfolgung eigener Interessen, die die karthagische Kriegsleitung von ihrer eigentlichen Aufgabe ablenkte.”). 39 See Rawlings (2011) 310, who believes that “raids and counter-raids of plunder and agricultural devastation were common”. See also, more detailed, Rawlings (2016) esp. 205. 40 See also Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 314–315 for an outline of events in Campania in the year 215, when the Capuans, Hannibal’s recently won allies in Campania, tried to subjugate their neighboring communities and, when this was harder to achieve than expected, convinced Hannibal to help them in their attack on Cumae. For Hannibal, however, this in was in more than one way a disadvantageous situation, since he was forced to “divert resources” (ibid. 315) and attacked those cities which he claimed he wanted to liberate. See e. g. Liv. 23.19.4, who notes that the people of Nola and Acerrae “feared the Campanians if the Roman garrison should withdraw” (Campanos timentium si praesidium Romanum abscessisset). 41 Liv. 24.20.10 (in Tarentino demum agro pacatum incedere agmen coepit. Nihil ibi violatum neque usquam via excessum est; apparebatque non id modestia militum sed ducis iussu ad conciliandos animos Tarentinorum fieri.). On Hannibal’s march to Tarentum in the year 213 see also Kukofka (1990) 28–29; Rawlings (2016) 230; Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 320.

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terestingly, added, that “if anyone should write his name on the quarters of a Roman citizen […] he would regard such a man as an enemy”.42 What this passage indicates is, firstly, Hannibal’s awareness of the necessity of a careful approach towards the cities of Southern Italy, which reduced the prospect of plunder needed to supply his army. Secondly, it indicates a conflict about the distribution of spoils between the Carthaginians and their allies. The existence of such a conflict is thoroughly comprehensible, since, as mentioned above, Hannibal’s army was still dependent on income in the form of spoils to finance a long war of attrition in Italy.43 However, not only Hannibal but also the Romans faced the problem of controlling the looting of conquered territories and cities, especially with regard to the actions of subordinate officers and allies. On the Roman side, the Senate and the magistrates in the field also experienced difficulties in controlling and regulating plunder in the south-Italian theatre of war, as is vividly demonstrated by the so-called Pleminius affair. According to Livy, in the year 205, P. Cornelius Scipio, when he was on Sicily in order to prepare the invasion of the Carthaginian homelands, seized an opportunity to capture the city of Locri, which had fallen to Carthage soon after the Battle of Cannae.44 After the successful conclusion of the operation, Scipio returned to Syracuse and left a certain Q. Pleminius in charge of the garrison in Locri to act as his legate. Apparently, Pleminius and his men soon began to terrorize the people of Locri and to loot not only their houses but even the famous temple of Proserpina. Pleminius, it is said, also instigated the murder of two military tribunes, who had tried to stop the plundering of the city. Only when a group of envoys from Locri arrived in Rome and pleaded with the senators for help, the Senate sent a commission to Locri in order to investigate Pleminius’ actions.45 Eventually, the praetor and the commission send Pleminius back to Rome in chains, where he was to await his trial, and took measures to return their possessions to the inhabitants of Locri. Furthermore, they brought back the treasuries which Pleminius had stolen from the temple of Proserpina.46 The compensation and the punishing of Pleminius were made more complicated by the fact that it had been Scipio who had put Pleminius in charge and allegedly defended him against accusations. However, according to Livy, the Locrians preferred not to accuse Scipio of any

Liv. 25.10.8–10 (9: si quis in hospitio civis Romani – vacuas autem tenebant domos – nomen inscripsisset, eum se pro hoste habiturum.). See also Plb. 8.25.1–2; 8.31.4–6, and cf. Kukofka (1990) 38–55. 43 This is also indicated in a number of passages in the accounts of Polybius and Livy. See e. g. Plb. 3.69; Liv. 21.33.11; 21.48.9, and also 22.32.2–3 (although the last passage seems to be of dubious credibility. Cf. Erdkamp (1992) 129–136; Levene (2010) 197, n. 73). 44 Liv. 29.6.4–29.8.5. Cf. Lazenby (1998) 199; Kukofka (1990) 135–138; Seibert (1993a) 417–418; Beck (2005a) 347; Fronda (2010) 276–277. 45 Livy’s account of the Pleminius affair in: Liv. 29.8.5–29.9.11; 29.16.4–29.21.13. Cf. Kukofka (1990) 138–146; Beck (2005a) 347–349; Wells (2010) 233–235; Köster (2014); Lentzsch (2022) 137–138. 46 Liv. 29.21.1–13. 42

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mistake, since they thought of him as “such a man as they would prefer to have as their friend rather than as an enemy”.47 Certainly, the Pleminius affair was a special case, which owes its prominence in the sources to a large degree to the involvement of Scipio and to the rivalries between Scipio and other members of the nobility.48 However, the affair also shows the complex situation in Southern Italy that the Romans had to deal with, with the Senate and leading magistrates aiming, on the one hand, to punish disloyal allies but, on the other, also to reintegrate them into the Roman commonwealth in post-war Italy. Moreover, individuals such as Pleminius and his soldiers were focused primarily on opportunities for personal enrichment by looting the towns which they had conquered – a practice which Roman and Carthaginian generals had demonstrated to their men on several occasions in the years before and which had often been regarded as necessary to finance and support armies in Italy and abroad.49 V Dividing the Spoils Although Rome’s alliances with the people of Italy primarily had a military function, in some respects, the Roman conquest of Southern Italy in the decades before Hannibal’s invasion had had a pacifying effect on the local communities and cities. After their subjugation to Rome, they were no longer able to engage in raiding and fighting their neighbours, since they were all now part of the same alliance with Rome.50 However, the Roman loss of control over large parts of Central and Southern Italy and the often-diverging aims and interests of the various parties involved seem to have contributed to a relapse into earlier models of a kind of anarchic interstate warfare in Southern Italy in the Second Punic War. Although Livy does not focus on this development, several passages in the books that describe the first years of the war indicate how warfare and strategy changed in these years and how plundering became a crucial element of this phase of the war.51 It even seems that in the later stages of the conflict, the demand for plunder determined the whole nature of the operations in certain are47 Liv. 29.21.10. 48 Cf. Beck (2005a) 348. 49 Cf. Rawlings (2016) 208 on the situation on Sicily in the year 210. 50 Kukofka (1990) 3. On Rome’s control of its allies at the eve of the Punic Wars see e. g. Cornell (1995) 364–368. On the pacifying effect of “a structure of hierarchy” (here Rome’s hegemony in ­Italy) on an interstate system see Eckstein (2006) 14–16, here esp. 16 (“where the ordering principle is hierarchy (tending toward unipolarity or universal empire […] competition decreases, and the distribution of power across the units tends to stabilize in favor of one unit”). See also Eckstein’s analysis of political and military conflicts in fourth- and third-century Italy in Eckstein (2006) 118–180. 51 Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 309 (“Thus, the unstable and shifting conditions opened the door to a kind of regional warlordism”), 317.

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as. For instance, regarding events in the year 205, Livy notes that in Bruttium there was, after years of fighting, “only brigandage” (latrocinium), rather than a real war.52 Presumably, many such raids were carried out on a rather small scale and, therefore, as mentioned above, escaped the notion of our sources. Nevertheless, the accounts of the war in Italy provide several descriptions and short notices of raids by different sides which were obviously conducted to capture resources, especially grain and cattle, but also horses, which could be directly reinvested in the supply of the troops.53 As mentioned above, not only Romans and Carthaginians, but also the allies of both sides engaged in such endeavours. The Bruttian capture of Croton has already been mentioned. In this case, the Bruttians clearly acted on their own initiative and won a whole city. Another example of raids which allies (in this case of the Romans) conducted apparently on their own initiative, is reported by Livy for the year 212. Here, he notes that Italian forces under the command of a certain T. Pomponius, praefectus sociorum, who had been able to lead a number of successful raids into territories of Carthagian allies, until he was defeated by the troops of Hanno, one of Hannibal’s officers.54 Although these operations were conducted on a minor scale, they could nevertheless affect plans and campaigns on both sides.55 Provision camps, which especially the Romans had constructed at various places all over Italy, were lucrative targets for such attacks.56 The capture of a strategically

Liv. 29.6.2 (Latrociniis magis quam iusto bello in Bruttiis gerebantur res, principio ab Numidis facto et Bruttiis non societate magis Punica quam suopte ingenio congruentibus in eum morem; postremo Roma­ ni quoque milites iam contagione quadam rapto gaudentes, quantum per duces licebat, excursiones in hostium agros facere.). See Rawlings (2016) 206–208, who points out that while Livy sees these operations as a sign of “erosion of military conduct and the perceived standards of bellum iustum” and, consequently, as “banditry”, one could also “understand [these operations] as irregular warfare”, which had played a more important role in the conflict between Romans and Carthaginians than sometimes assumed (206–207). 53 See e. g. Liv. 22.3.2–6; 22.4.1; 22.9.3; 22.12.6; 22.13.1; 22.13.10–11; 23.44.6; 23.48.1–2; 24.20.3–6; 24.20.16; 27.1.1–2. According to Polybius (Plb. 10.19.1–2), P. Cornelius Scipio used 600 talents that his soldiers found in Carthago Nova to finance the continuation of his campaign on the Iberian Peninsula. See also Fronda (2010) 262 on operations by Romans and Tarentines in 210, when both sides were trying to forage the surrounding countryside of Tarentum or to capture supply ships of the enemy. Cf. Cornell (1996) 103; Shean (1996), esp. 175–185; Rawlings (2011) 304–305; Rawlings (2016) 208–211, 222 (with further references). For a general assessment see Bleckmann (2016) 84 (“during the age of the Punic Wars, [war spoils] constituted a considerable portion of Rome’s income”) and 85, where he rightly points out that “only exceptionally do we glimpse at the numerous raids made by marauding soldiers on their own initiative, who neither surrendered their plunder to the aerarium nor made it available for the provisioning of the troops”. 54 Liv. 25.1.3–4. Cf. Rawlings (2016) 209. 55 Rawlings (2016) 211. 56 See Plb. 3.100.1–4 (the Carthaginians capture Geronium); 3.107.1–4 (capture of Roman provision camp at Cannae); Liv. 21.48.9 (Hannibal’s troops capture Clastidium in northern Italy). Cf. Fronda (2010) 250; Erdkamp (1998) 163–164; (2011) 73. On the Roman system of provision camps in Italy see Erdkamp (1998) 46–52; (2011) 69. See for the importance of these depots for Roman strategy in the war against Hannibal’s armies Rawlings (2011) 304–306. 52

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important supply base often was a serious strike against the enemy. The Carthaginian defenders of the city of Capua, for example, expected supplies from a camp near Beneventum, but it was taken by a Roman army under the command of Q. Fulvius Flaccus. According to the Livian account, this operation was an important element in the Roman efforts of taking back control in Campania and the eventual recapture of Capua by Rome.57 As already mentioned above, of course, the resources which the soldiers of both sides were able to capture in such operations could be used for the direct supply of the own troops. Moreover, if Livy is to be trusted, these provisions were important for both sides in order to finance the continuation of the war. Certainly, this situation affected not only operations in Italy, but also on other theatres, especially in Spain. In fact, on the Iberian Peninsula, Rome might have had even more trouble to finance and organize the supply of its armies. According to Livy, for instance, in the year 215, the Roman commanders in Spain, P. and C. Cornelius Scipio, wrote to the Senate for help because money, grain, and clothes were lacking. The Scipios assured the Senate that “if the treasury was empty, they would find some method of getting it from the ­Spaniards”, but that they also required support from Italy. Since the aerarium was empty, the Senate had to fall back on the help of private individuals who organized the supply for the Spanish troops. However, they did so only after the Senate had offered them highly attractive conditions.58 Even ten years later, when the tide had turned in favour of the Roman side, the mutiny of soldiers of Scipio’s army at Sucro in 206 apparently arose not least from the fact that the soldiers had not received their pay for months. After severely punishing the ringleaders, Scipio hurried to ‘collect’ money from surrounding Spanish cities, which probably should be seen as a kind of looting.59 Another kind of more ‘movable plunder’ which seems to have played an important role in the Second Punic War, were prisoners of war, who were often sold into slavery (while release against a ransom was also possible). According to our sources, Romans

57

58

59

Liv. 25.13.10–25.14.12. Seibert (1993a) 291, with n. 26, doubts the historicity of this passage, but see also Lazenby (1998) 112–113; Fronda (2010) 248, and Rawlings (2011) 306, who accept Livy’s account. The details of the battle description are most probably an invention by Livy or an earlier author. However, this does not rule out the historicity of the Roman success in general. On Capua in the Second Punic War see Von Ungern-Sternberg (1975); Fronda (2007); (2010) 103–126; Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 314–315 (all with further references). Liv. 23.48.4–49. Since this passage contains the first mention of the publicani as entrepreneurs of war, it is a highly debated one. See e. g. Lazenby (1998) 98–99; Seibert (1993a) 229; Badian (1997) 9–14 for the authenticity of the events. Erdkamp (1998) 114–117 believes the passages to be a later invention. Cf. further Rawlings (2016) 224, who emphasizes that “Massinissa’s operations against the Elder Scipio’s forces in Spain caused physical inconveniences of supply and movement for the Romans, who appeared to have become more or less confined to camp”. Plb. 11.25.8–9. Cf. Liv. 28.25.6.

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and Carthaginians sold thousands of prisoners into slavery.60 In the Italian theatre of war, the selling of prisoners into slavery was certainly also an instrument to induce terror among former allies which had now defected to the enemy and to warn other cities not to follow the example of these unfortunate communities. Of course, the deportation of these people could also help the Romans in the longer-term process of weakening Hannibal’s position in Italy.61 It may be that the capture of slaves for sale was one motive behind a considerable number of military operations. Furthermore, the capture and sale of thousands of people during the war hints at the existence of some sort of logistics of slave trade, although our sources are relatively silent on this matter.62 Raids could also be profitable when no prisoners were captured. This was the case, for instance, when Cn. Servilius Geminus in the year 217 accepted ten talents of silver, “which the people of Cercina gave him, to induce him not to burn and pillage their territory”.63 However, the advantages which the Romans gained in such operations may have been rather small compared to the enormous strategic and material profit which followed the victories over Carthage’s most powerful and useful allies, namely Capua, Syracuse and Tarentum, or the capture of Carthago Nova in Spain by P. Cornelius Scipio.64 Furthermore, these victories provided new opportunities for the acquisition and distribution of spoils, which would not have been possible if those communities had stayed loyal to Rome. For one thing, the spoils from the capture of cities such as Tarentum, Syracuse or Capua, but also from numerous raids and small-scale plundering expeditions, aimed to gain financial and material resources, which were necessary for the continuation of the war. For another, these victories against former allies seem to 60 Romans capture prisoners and sell them into slavery, see e. g. Plb. 10.19.8; Liv. 21.51.2; 23.37.12–13; 24.47.14; 26.14.1–12; 27.1.2; 27.15.4; 27.16.7; 27.49.6. See also Plb. 10.17.6–14, where Polybius reports how Scipio could make good use of the prisoners his soldiers captured at Carthago Nova (workmen had to work as public slaves for the Romans until the end of the war, other prisoners had to serve on the fleet). See Erdkamp (1998) 285 and Welwei (2000) 88–117, 121–130 for a critical evaluation of these passages, and the contribution of García Morcillo in this volume. 61 On Roman motives behind these operations see, with further references, Kukofka (1990) 30; Welwei (2000) 93–94. 62 However, see Liv. 29.31.11, where Livy describes raids in the Carthaginian hinterland by the troops of Masinissa. Apparently they brought their “spoils down to the sea” and sold it “to traders who put in with their vessels for that very purpose” (Iamque adeo licenter eludebant ut ad mare devectam praedam venderent mercatoribus appellentibus naves ad id ipsum, pluresque quam iusto saepe in bello Carthaginienses caderent caperenturque.). Cf. Welwei (2000) 123: “Es wird deutlich, dass jedenfalls gegen Ende des zweiten Punischen Krieges der Sklavenhandel gut organisiert war und zwischen den Sklavenhändlern und ihren ‚Zulieferern‘ auch unter ungünstigsten Bedingungen eine bestens funktionierende Kommunikation bestand.” 63 Liv. 22.31.2 (Menige insula vastata et ab incolentibus Cercinam, ne et ipsorum ureretur diripereturque ager, decem talentis argenti acceptis). 64 Cf. Bleckmann (2016) 95: “The introduction of the denarius after a phase of extreme scarcity of precious metal shows that the capture of Capua, Syracuse, and Tarentum vastly improved the liquidity of the Roman state.”

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have contributed to a change in the political landscape in Southern-Italy and on Sicily in other ways, since this situation gave the Romans the opportunity to reward loyal allies and former officers of Hannibal’s army who, in the course of the war, had defected to Rome. The Romans, for example, rewarded a certain Sosis from Syracuse and a Spaniard called Moericus for their services – or, from the Carthaginian perspective, their treachery – during the operations on Sicily not only with Roman citizenship but also with five hundred iugera of land. Sosis received land “in the territory of Syracuse, land which had either belonged to the king [Hieron II respectively Hieronymus] or to enemies of the Roman people, and a house at Syracuse, to be chosen by him from those owned by men whom they had punished by the law of war”. To “Moericus and the Spaniards who had changed sides with him a city and land in Sicily were ordered to be given, chosen from among those who had revolted from the Roman people”. In the same region, four hundred iugera of land were voted to a certain “Belligenes, by whom Moericus had been induced to change sides”.65 Apparently, similar rewards were given to loyal allies or deserters in other recaptured cities or territories as well, while disloyal members of the elites in these cities were driven out or even executed.66 VI Conclusion In conclusion, we have seen that the acquisition and distribution of spoils as well as the prospect of gaining them played a significant role in the theatre of war in Southern Italy. For both sides, Romans and Carthaginians, spoils were an always appreciated, often necessary revenue of great relevance, which was needed to supply troops and allies.67 It even seems that at least for some periods and regions the support of military operations strongly relied on the acquisition of spoils, which is indicated, for instance, by the reports of the capture of supply camps which seems to have been an important strategic aim. Furthermore, for some of Rome’s allies in the region the opportunity to acquire resources through military endeavors was a main reason for their decision to join Hannibal’s side. But also some of those people who still stood on Rome’s side tried to take advantage of the new political landscape which, without the control of one hegemonial power, seems to have relapsed into an earlier state of, in the words of Arthur E ­ ckstein, 65 Liv. 26.21.9–14. 66 See e. g. Liv. 29.8.1–11 (P. Cornelius Scipio rewards loyal members of the local elite of Locri); 30.21.3–5. For more examples, see Rawlings (2011) 309, and, more detailed Von Ungern-Sternberg (1975) 77–122; Welwei (2000) 96–97 (on the recapture of Capua); Kukofka (1990) 99–111 (Tarentum). 67 Cf. Ñaco del Hoyo (2011) 381, who states in a more general sense that “war booty and the indemnities exacted after formal surrender (deditio) formed a revenue of great relevance for the state in the aggregate of its finances”.

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“anarchic interstate system”, in which raiding and looting neighboring territories was a common experience.68 When in the later stages of the war, Rome was able to reconquer lost ground and to subdue their disloyal allies, the acquisition of enormous amounts of spoils through the capture of cities such as Syracuse, Tarentum, Capua, or, in Spain, Carthago Nova, brought desperately needed resources at a time when the public treasury was empty. Finally, the long-term effects of such distributions of spoils of war should not be underestimated. Not only in Capua, but also in many other cities and communities, especially in Central and Southern Italy and on Sicily, the effects of these measures considerably changed the political landscape, which also meant a further step towards the unification of Italy under Roman rule.69 It seems likely that Rome would never have initiated, or even thought of these measures, had not the defection of former allies to the Carthaginians and the consequent reappearance of “interstate anarchy” created a large enemy territory within Italy, with the concomitant potential for spoils of war, which were taken and distributed in numerous ways during the Roman reconquest of Southern Italy. When the long war of attrition on Italian soil was over, not only Hieron II, if he had risen from the lower world, would have wondered how much the face of his and many other Italian cities had changed because the territories of Rome’s former allies had become spoils of war. Simon Lentzsch University of Fribourg [email protected]

68 69

Eckstein (2006). See Fronda & Gauthier (2018) 322: “Rome’s position after the war was even more unassailable than it was before the war: the Romans confiscated more territory and founded several new colonies, ruling classes in rebellious cities were punished severely, […]. At this point we can more legitimately talk about the Roman hegemony or even empire in Italy. One might argue that the situation after 200 BCE was an early stage of state formation – the first steps in the creation of a unitary Roman-Italian state.” See also Lomas (2011) 352–354.

Spoils, Infrastructure and Politics in Rome and Italy* John R. Patterson I Introduction “Previously … Rome was filled with barbarian arms and bloody spoils, and wreathed around with memorials and trophies of triumphs”, as Plutarch observes, discussing the art treasures which M. Claudius Marcellus brought to Rome after he sacked the city of Syracuse in 212 BCE, and eventually displayed in the Temples of Honos and Virtus outside the Porta Capena, “in the forecourt of the city”.1 Exhibition of the spoils themselves – arms and armour seized from Rome’s defeated enemies – in both private and public contexts was normal practice in the Republican city of Rome, but despoliation of Rome’s opponents had an indirect impact on the city too, as resources obtained through conquest were used to finance the construction of temples, and also – in the second century BCE in particular – other monuments, such as arches and porticoes, where spoils or artworks appropriated from the enemy might themselves be displayed.2 In a few cases the building of temples was explicitly recorded as having been financed from a general’s manubiae, such as the temple to Fors Fortuna vowed in 293 BCE by Sp. Carvilius following his triumph over the Samnites and the Etruscans (Liv. 10.46.14).3 According to Plutarch, Claudius Marcellus’ own Temples of Honos and Virtus, which had been vowed at the battle of Clastidium against Gallic invaders in 222 BCE, and eventually dedicated after his death by his son, were financed from his spoils.4 *

I am very grateful to Marian Helm and Saskia Roselaar for the invitation to take part in the project, and to the participants at the Bochum meeting in September 2018 for their valuable comments. 1 Plut. Marc. 21.2; Liv. 25.40.1–3. For the formulation ‘forecourt of the city’ (in vestibulo urbis) see Liv. 26.32.4. 2 See the papers in this volume by (in particular) Armstrong, Beck, Hölkeskamp, and Lentzsch. Davies (2017) esp. 61–65, 110–130, is an important recent overview of public building in Republican Rome, with particular emphasis on ‘spoils and the city’, introduced at p. 3–5; similarly, Steinby (2012) for a list of public works financed by manubiae at p. 111–112. 3 Orlin (1997) 122–139 discusses this issue and provides a list of manubial temples at p. 130–131. See also Aberson (1994). 4 Liv. 27.25.7–9; Plut. Marc. 28.1, where the biographer may, however, have confused the display of spoils with their use to pay for the temple: see Orlin (1997) 131–132.

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Some commanders distributed spoils to colonies and allied communities whose soldiers had taken part in their campaigns: Livy tells us that L. Papirius Cursor, after having defeated the Samnites alongside Sp. Carvilius in 293, not only displayed spoils in the Forum Romanum and at the newly dedicated Temple of Quirinus, but “[distributed them] among the allies and nearby colonies for the decoration of their temples and public places” (10.46.7–8). This practice continued into later times, with victorious generals such as P. Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus and L. Mummius distributing captured pieces of statuary to other communities in Italy, as we know from the survival of inscribed bases for some of these statues.5 Spoils of war were thus of fundamental importance to the physical environment of Rome and of the cities of Italy, as generals used them, directly or indirectly, to remind their contemporaries, and posterity, of their achievements. The specific concern of this paper, however, is with the large-scale public infrastructure projects which were undertaken by the Romans between the fourth and second centuries BCE – roads and aqueducts in particular. It explores how far, and in what ways, these major initiatives were related to the acquisition of spoils, but also what the broader political and economic consequences might have been for Rome and the parts of Italy affected by these initiatives. At the outset it is worth underlining that there is, interestingly but perhaps surprisingly, little evidence which explicitly links manubiae and road- and aqueduct-building initiatives, but what information we do have tends to point to the scale and importance of such projects, the political sensitivity of this expenditure, and the significance of their impact at a local level. II Road-Building Projects From the late fourth century onwards, a series of major road-building projects came to connect Rome with the territories in central and southern Italy into which the Romans were in the process of expanding and consolidating their authority (Fig. 1).6 The best known of these are the following: the Via Appia between Rome and C ­ apua, initiated in 312 BCE during the censorship of App. Claudius Caecus, and the first road to take the name of its builder;7 the Via Valeria, which extended the Via Tiburtina beyond Tibur into the territories of the Aequi and the Marsi, apparently at the initiative

5 6

7

Oakley (2005b) 450–451 collects examples; see also Yarrow (2006), and Fronda in this volume. The bibliography on the roads of Roman Italy is very extensive, and is summarized (up to 1999) in the various articles on viae in LTUR (1993–2000). For a valuable recent discussion of Republican road-building, see Carlà-Uhink (2017) 70–95. Wiseman (1970) remains a classic study, and the overview of Quilici (1990a) is also very useful, especially for the hinterland of Rome, as is Laurence (1999). See in particular Quilici Gigli (1990); Della Portella (2004); Carbonara et al. (2004).

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Fig. 1: Roman roads in central Italy. From Wiseman (1970) p. 132, figure 2. Used with permission.

of M. Valerius Maximus, censor in 306;8 the Via Aurelia, running along the coast of Etruria in the general direction of Pisa, which has been linked by historians with various members of the Aurelius family, but is traditionally, and most plausibly, connected with C. Aurelius Cotta, censor in 241 BCE;9 and the Via Flaminia, laid out across the Apennines by C. Flaminius, most likely as censor in 220 BCE, to connect Rome with Ariminum on the Adriatic coast.10 Other major long-distance roads were also constructed, or consolidated, around this time, notably the Via Latina, which connected Rome to Campania by way of the valleys of the Sacco and the Liri,11 and the Via Salaria, which took its name from the salt-pans at the mouth of the river Tiber, and linked Rome with Sabine territory.12 We also know of a number of other roads which connect-

8 9 10 11 12

For the archaeological remains of the Via Valeria, see Van Essen (1957); for the Tiburtina, Bjur & Santillo Frizell (2009) esp. 39–59. Fentress (1984); Coarelli (1988) 42–48. Messineo & Carbonara (1993). Coarelli (1988) 39–41. Catani & Paci (2000).

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ed Rome with nearby centres: some took their names from the Roman magistrate responsible for the original building of the road, who is not always now identifiable (e. g. the Via Cassia between Rome and Arretium, and the Via Clodia between Rome and Tuscana),13 or from their destination (such as the Via Amerina, which came to connect the Via Cassia with Nepi, Falerii Novi, and Ameria in Umbria).14 As with any investigation into mid-Republican Rome, we need to be particularly aware of the implications for our understanding of the gaps in Livy’s text between 293 and 218 BCE, and then after 167 BCE,15 and indeed the dates of several of these roads appear to fall neatly into these gaps. A number of surviving milestones appear to relate to Republican road-building projects, but dating these is often not easy, and there are controversies about the dates of building, and the routes taken, by many of these roads. Multiple dates have been put forward, for example, for the building of the Via Aurelia – 241 BCE, 200 BCE, 144 BCE, and 119 BCE have all been suggested – and there are also serious doubts about the original destination of the road, whether this was Cosa, Populonia or Vada.16 In the same way, there has been continuing debate about the date, and even the name, of the road, built in the mid or late second century BCE, to connect Capua and Rhegium, which is attested by an inscription discovered at Polla in what in antiquity was Lucania.17 The archaeology of roads is similarly problematic, given that their systematic paving appears to have been a phenomenon largely of the third and second centuries BC: only occasionally has the evidence of the earliest roads been examined, as for example on the Via Appia at Ponte della Schiazza, where a gravel roadbed delimited by kerbs on each side has been identified.18 The most substantial body of evidence for a Republican road-building project relates to Appius Claudius’ censorship in 312. Appius’ activities were clearly very controversial, both for contemporaries and for posterity, which makes it difficult to establish clearly the sequence of events in the censorship and the motivations which lay behind them.19 A copy displayed at Arretium of the elogium set up in his honour in the Forum of Augustus at Rome highlights among Appius’ main achievements the construction of the Via Appia and the provision of a water-supply for the city (for which see further below).20 The two key literary sources are Livy and Diodorus. Livy comments that Ap-

13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20

Quilici (1990a) 78–83. See Carlà-Uhink (2017) 75–76 for a list. Coarelli (1977) 2–3. See n. 9. See recently Adamo (2016); Carlà-Uhink (2017) 82–85. Quilici (1990b) 60; (1992) esp. 27–30; Humm (1996) 704–709. See discussion at Oakley (2005a) 350–384, and the bibliography cited by him at 350–351, in particular MacBain (1980), Humm (1996) and (2005); more recently (on both the road and on Appius’ aqueduct) Davies (2017) 66–70, and Bernard (2018a) 128–136. CIL 11.1827 = ILS 54 = I. I. 13.3.79; for some fragments surviving from the original text in the Forum of Augustus, see CIL 6.40943.

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pius, because of his building of the road and aqueduct, “had a happier memory with posterity” than his colleague C. Plautius, with whom he had fallen out over a review of the membership of the Senate. Plautius resigned his censorship, he says, leaving Appius to complete the building projects alone (Liv. 9.29.5–8). Introducing his account with the observation that “since [Appius] was doing what was popular with the people, he paid no account to the Senate” (20.36.1), and mentioning the aqueduct briefly, Diodorus (Diod. Sic. 20.36.2) then explains how the road was built: He paved with solid stone the greater part of the Appian Way, which was named after him, from Rome to Capua, the distance being more than a thousand stades. And since he dug through hills and levelled gullies and hollows with remarkable embankments, he used up the entire public revenue but left behind him an immortal monument to himself, having displayed ambition for the common good.

The historian then goes on to discuss how Appius alienated the nobility with his various other initiatives, especially recruiting the sons of freedmen into the Senate and seeking to reform the allocations to the voting tribes and census classes. Unfortunately, we hear much less about the circumstances of the building of the other key roads. In relation to M. Valerius Maximus  – who, it is worth noting, was the holder of the next censorship after that of Appius – Livy just says that he and his colleague C. Iunius Bubulcus (in 306 BCE) “built roads throughout the countryside at public expense (publica impensa)”, a passage which is generally taken to refer to the Via Valeria.21 We lack literary accounts of the establishment of the Via Aurelia, while all we can glean from the ancient texts about the Via Flaminia (which likewise falls into the ‘gap’ in Livy) was that it was built by C. Flaminius as censor.22 It is worth emphasising here that none of these narratives makes any explicit reference to spoils. Appius himself never celebrated a triumph, so had no manubiae at his personal disposal in 312; although his elogium records that he achieved victories against the Samnites, Sabines, and Etruscans, these took place at a later stage, when Appius was consul in 296.23 Rather, all this expenditure must have been authorised by the Senate, and public funds used for the road, as Livy specifically records in relation to Valerius’ activities in 306. This also seems to have been the case for subsequent road-building projects, on the model outlined by Polybius, who explains how in his time the Senate assigned funds to the censors for the repair and construction of public buildings.24

21 Liv. 9.43.25 with Oakley (2005a) ad loc. 22 Liv. Per. 20; Plut. Quaest. Rom. 66. Festus (79L) by contrast says that the road was built by Flami­ nius as consul (in 223), and Strabo (5.1.11) that it was built in 187. 23 Oakley (2005a) 355. 24 Plb. 6.13.3 with Wiseman (1970) 144–147; Astin (1990) 22–24; Steinby (2012) 79–80.

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An emphasis in our sources, and in modern discussions, on the individual initiators of road-building schemes tends to obscure the fact that road-building involved not only vast costs, but was during the Republic an ongoing, long-term process. Although we cannot reconstruct the mechanism by which this happened, or any precise timescale, in the absence of specific individuals after whom the roads were named, the building of the Via Latina and Via Salaria, plausibly linked to the expansion of Roman control into Latium and Campania, and the Sabine territory respectively, must have consumed quite as much in the way of resources as the Appia and the Valeria. The Appia itself was eventually extended to run beyond Capua, first to Beneventum and then, at a later stage, to Brundisium, initiatives to be linked to the foundation of Latin colonies in those two locations in 268 and ca. 244 respectively.25 Even in the vicinity of Rome, Appius Claudius’ project was not completed by the end of his censorship, which was believed by some ancient commentators to have been extended contrary to tradition (Liv. 9.33.4 and below). Diodorus concedes that only “the greater part” of the road was paved (20.36.2), and we know that the aediles used money from fines firstly to provide a paved footpath from the Porta Capena to the Temple of Mars in 296, and then to resurface the road from the Temple of Mars to Bovillae in silex (hard volcanic stone), three years later. Similar operations must presumably have been a regular requirement all along the route of the Appia: in 189 BCE, for example, the silex of the initial stage of the road had to be replaced, this time by the censors.26 In the same way, numerous milestones attest the activity of various consuls and other magistrates in building new roads and enhancing old ones during the second century in particular: Sp. Postumius Albinus, consul in 148 BCE, for example, built a road which took his name across the Apennines between Genua and Cremona.27 L. Cornelius Cinna, consul in 127 BCE, was involved in work on the Via Latina during or after that year, and other examples could be cited.28 An inscription from Rome, generally dated to the Sullan period, records the use of public funds for a contract to repair the Via Caecilia, which apparently left the Via Salaria at Interocrium north of Reate, and then led via Amiternum across the Apennines to Hadria.29 The wealth brought into the treasury by spoils would have formed part of the resources expended on road-building projects, but only alongside the combination of tributum, customs-dues (portoria) and tolls, rents from public land, and other sources of funds 25 26 27 28 29

Uggeri (1990) 22–24. Liv. 10.23.13; 10.47.4; 38.28.3 with Briscoe (2008) 103; Piacentin (2018) esp. 116–117. Via Postumia: ILLRP 452 = ILS 5806 = CIL 5. 8045 = 12 624, with Sena Chiesa & Lavizzari Pedraz­ zi­ni (1998); Cera (2000). Via Latina: ILLRP 457 = ILS 5809 = CIL 10. 6905 = 12 654, with Coarelli (1988) 39–41. See also Pina Polo (2011) 136–142; Steinby (2012) 40, n. 114. ILLRP 465 = ILS 5799 = CIL 6.31603 = 12 808; CIL 6. 40904a with discussion ad loc. For the route of the Via Caecilia, see Wiseman (1970) 134–136; Guidobaldi (1995) 293–314; (2000); Barbetta (2000); Carlà-Uhink (2017) 72–73, n. 311 for a summary.

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which, together with indemnities in the aftermath of the First Punic War and in the first half of the second century BCE, enabled Rome to spend lavishly on public building.30 III Water Supply When we turn to water supply,31 the key episodes to note are the building of Rome’s first aqueduct, known as the Aqua Appia (though the elogium to its builder in the Forum of Augustus simply called it ‘Aqua’), like the Via Appia begun in 312 BCE by App. Claudius Caecus and his colleague;32 the Anio Vetus, begun in 272 BCE by the censor M’. Curius Dentatus;33 and the Aqua Marcia of 144 BCE34 and the Aqua Tepula of 125 BCE (Fig. 2).35

Fig. 2: Extra-urban routes of the ancient aqueducts, based on Peter Aicher’s Guide to the Aqueducts of Ancient Rome (1995), with permission of Bolchazy-Carducci Publishers, Inc. From Rodgers (2004), p. 347, map 1. Reproduced with permission of The Licensor through PLSclear. 30 31 32 33 34 35

Astin (1990) 25–27; Tan (2017) xix, and 31–32 on indemnities; Tan (2020) on tributum. For general discussion of aqueduct-building in this period, see the overview by Hodge (2013) 292– 293; also Evans (1994) 65–103; De Kleijn (2001) 10–19. Faletti (2010) looks at the Aqua Appia and Anio Vetus alongside Appius’ career. Mucci (1993). Mari (1993). Cattalini (1993a). Cattalini (1993b).

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The same issues about evidence, dating, and historical contextualisation arise for aqueducts as for roads in this period. For the aqueducts we do, however, have Frontinus’ treatise On aqueducts, which provides a narrative of aqueduct building at Rome, complementing the fragmentary references provided by literary historians. The author held the post of curator aquarum at Rome in 97 CE and discusses the topic with authority, presumably drawing on official documentation, even though the overall purpose of the work, and its intended audience, is unclear.36 The archaeological evidence for the early aqueducts is, however, particularly problematic because their channels ran almost entirely below ground (Aq. 1.18). Turning first to Appius’ aqueduct project in 312, Livy briefly links this with the “happier memory” of his censorship (9.29.6), while Diodorus, as with Appius’ road-building, stresses the controversy associated with the project: “Firstly, he brought the socalled Aqua Appia from a distance of 80 stades into Rome, and spent a large amount of public money on its construction without a decree from the Senate” (20.36.1). To these accounts, Frontinus adds the dubious observation that Appius’ colleague C. Plautius acquired the cognomen Venox for having sought out the sources of water (venae) for the aqueduct (in fact the name is attested for an earlier member of the Plautius family),37 and then tells us that Appius manoeuvred after Plautius’ resignation to have his censorship extended beyond the usual eighteen-month stint to enable the completion of the work both on the road and on the aqueduct, which brought water into the city from the area around the 8th milestone of the Via Praenestina (Aq. 1.5).38 The next aqueduct building project, of the Anio Novus, is equally interesting, and here at last we return to manubiae. Frontinus gives an extensive account, which is worth quoting at length: Forty years after the Aqua Appia was brought in, in the four hundred and eighty-first year after the founding of the City (i. e. 272 BCE), Manius Curius Dentatus, who held the censorship with Lucius Papirius Cursor, contracted to have the waters of what is now called the Anio Vetus brought into the City, using the spoils (manubiae) captured from Pyrrhus, when Spurius Carvilius and Lucius Papirius were consuls for the second time. Then two years later the question of completing the aqueduct was discussed in the Senate […] By decree of the Senate, Curius, who had let the original contract, and Fulvius Flaccus were appointed as duumviri to bring in the water. Within five days of being appointed duumvir, Curius died; thus the distinction of bringing in the water was achieved by Flaccus (Aq. 1.6).

36 Frontin. Aq. 1.4–8 deals with the examples under discussion here. For commentary, see Rodgers (2004), with discussion at p. 12–14 on the overall purpose of the work; on the text more broadly, DeLaine (1996). 37 Steinby (2012). 38 On the question of the extension of Appius’ censorship, see Oakley (2005a) 376–379.

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The background here is the victory in 275 BCE, close to the site of the future colony of Beneventum, of a Roman army under the command of the consul M’. Curius Dentatus over King Pyrrhus of Epirus. Pyrrhus had entered Italy five years previously in support of the city of Tarentum, campaigned in Sicily, and after his defeat by the Romans returned to his homeland.39 Florus reports that Curius’ triumph was particularly spectacular: “such spoils from so many wealthy races were collected that Rome itself could not contain its own victory … if you looked at the procession, you would see gold, purple, statues, pictures and luxuries from Tarentum” (Flor. 1.13.27), though the historian may in part be confusing this triumph with that of L. Papirius Cursor and Sp.  Carvilius Maximus over the Tarentines and others three years later, following the capture of that city. The intake of the new aqueduct was some way above Tibur; although the total length of the aqueduct is unclear (the text of Frontinus is problematic at this point), it seems likely to have been over 40 miles, which would have made it more than four times longer than the Aqua Appia.40 Livy tells us that a project of the censors of 179 BCE to build an aqueduct was abandoned because of the objections of a landowner through whose property it was to run.41 The city’s third aqueduct, the Aqua Marcia, was therefore built only in 144 BCE, “when the channels of the Appia and the Anio Vetus had been weakened by age”, says Frontinus. A further problem was that private individuals were drawing the water illegally; furthermore, “since the growth of the City was seen to require a more substantial supply of water”, Q. Marcius Rex, at the time serving as urban praetor, was (unusually – the building of aqueducts was normally assigned to censors) given by the Senate the twin tasks of restoring the old aqueducts and bringing in an additional supply, which then took his name (Aq. 1.7, with Plin. HN 36.121). Frontinus quotes the early imperial historian Fenestella as saying that 180,000,000 sesterces were assigned to Marcius for these projects – a colossal sum – and records that Marcius’ praetorship was extended for a second year to enable them to be completed.42 The intake of the new aqueduct was at the 36th milestone of the Via Valeria, like the source of the Anio Vetus in the hills above Tibur. The Marcia was known for the high quality of its water (Plin. HN 31.41) and was the first of Rome’s aqueducts to run for a significant distance on arcades (Frontin. Aq. 1.7). Finally, the Aqua Tepula, apparently named after its unpalatably tepid water, was in 125 BCE brought into Rome by the censors Cn. Servilius Caepio and L. Cassius Longinus, from its intake at the tenth milestone of the Via Latina, not far from Tusculum (Frontin. Aq. 1.8).

39 Plut. Pyrrh. 25.2 with Lévêque (1957) 509–529; Kent (2020) 112–116. 40 On the textual issues, see Rodgers (2004) 156–158. 41 Liv. 40.51.7 with Morgan (1978) esp. 35–43. 42 Cornell (2013) 3.578.

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What, then, are the links between spoils and aqueduct-building? It seems obvious that at some level there must be a connection between the 180 million sesterces reportedly spent on the Aqua Marcia and on refurbishing the two other aqueducts in 144 BCE, and the conquest of both Carthage and Corinth two years previously. Pliny claims that only a modest amount of silver (4370 lbs) was seized from Carthage, at least by comparison with the ten thousand pounds in the personal possession of M. Livius Drusus only fifty years later (HN 33.141–142); but his main concern in this passage is to point out rising levels of luxury in the last century of the Roman Republic. Appian by contrast alludes to the large quantities of gold seized by the Roman victors at Carthage, and displayed in Scipio’s triumph.43 On the other hand, the only one of these initiatives for which spoils are explicitly mentioned is Curius Dentatus’ building of the Anio Vetus. The key question then is why manubiae were specifically emphasised in this case. We can hypothesise a series of connections between Curius’ acquisition of spoils, his handing of these to the treasury, his election as censor, and the building of the Anio Vetus. It is significant that Curius’ censorship was in 272 BCE, while the previous censors had held office in 275, and we would ordinarily have expected the next pair of censors to take office in 270. Curius, who had already served as consul in 290, defeating the Sabines and Samnites, was well known to posterity as an exceptional exemplum of frugality: he was supposedly found by some Samnite envoys eating out of a wooden bowl but refused their offers of gold. In the same vein he was commended by Valerius Maximus for his refusal to take the spoils of Pyrrhus for himself, with the exception of a beechwood flask for use in sacrifices. He declined, too, to accept any land beyond the allocation with which his soldiers had been rewarded.44 It may therefore be that Curius assigned the spoils to the treasury, in the understanding and expectation that he would be elected censor and acquire the responsibility of dealing with the aqueduct, but with characteristic modesty refused to have his own name associated with it.45 It seems entirely plausible that the population of Rome was increasing significantly in both the early third century and the mid-second century, when the Anio Vetus and the Aqua Marcia were being constructed: indeed population increase is explicitly mentioned as a factor by Frontinus in the latter case.46 But as well as the city’s needs, the availability of funds in suitable quantities must have been a key consideration in the Senate’s mind in determining when such a major infrastructure project could take place. The windfall obtained by Curius Dentatus must presumably be the consequence of the Romans liberating spoils which had themselves been appropriated by Pyrrhus

43 App. Pun. 133, 135. 44 Val. Max. 4.3.5a-b; Plin. HN 16.185; 18.18; Frontin. Strat. 4.3.12; Flor. 1.13.22. 45 Aberson (1994) 193–199. 46 Morgan (1978); Cornell (2000a) 46–47; Bernard (2018a) 163–167.

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from the affluent Greek cities of Sicily and southern Italy,47 in the same way as Marcius Rex’s project was made possible by the defeats of Carthage and Corinth in 146. It is striking that both Curius and Marcius were appointed to their respective offices out of the normal sequence, suggesting a concern on the part of the Senate to deploy the funds which had become available for a specific purpose; in both cases special measures were also taken to extend the term of involvement of the magistrates concerned, as indeed had happened also in the case of Appius. In fact, a distinction may be drawn here between road-building, which could without very serious consequences be carried out, and completed, over the long term, and aqueduct-building, which would be completely useless if the project was not completed as planned. The building of an aqueduct required a more concentrated work-schedule – and all the funds to be at hand before work started. IV Colonisation, Infrastructure and Politics The overall aims of the road-building projects of the mid Republic have been a particular focus of discussion in recent years. Given the close chronological relationship between the establishment of colonies in some areas of Italy, and the construction of roads in those areas, it seems clear that road-building and colonisation were closely linked; indeed, roads and colonies have together been seen by some scholars as manifestations of an overall strategy of expansion and consolidation.48 However, just as scholarship has tended to move away from the traditional view which sees Latin colonies in this period as standardised ‘miniature Romes’, and increasingly stresses patterns of diversity within the practice of colonisation, in terms of the character of the sites chosen, the urban layout of the colonies, and the nature of their relationships with the local indigenous populations, so it seems plausible that road-building and colonisation might be deployed within a range of geo-political strategies, rather than having a single over-arching objective.49 We might reasonably accept, for example, that the extension of the Via Latina to Campania was connected with the establishment of Latin colonies at Cales in 334, Fregellae in 328, and Interamna in 312.50 However, the precise date of the laying out of the Via Latina as a long-distance route is unclear, as is the exact nature of the chronological relationship between the colonies and the road. While the construction of the Via

47 App. Sam. 12; Franke (1989) 471–472. 48 E. g. Salmon (1969) 83–84, Coarelli (1988), and Uggeri (1990), with the discussion at Bradley (2014) 66–69. 49 See e. g. Bispham (2006) and the papers in Stek & Pelgrom (2014). Stek (2018b) provides an up-todate overview. 50 Coarelli (1988) 39–41.

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­ aleria evidently pre-dates the Roman defeat of the Aequi in 304 – the road-building V may even have provoked their hostility – and the foundation of the colonies of Alba Fucens (302) and Carseoli (298), the situation as regards the Via Appia is more complex. A citizen colony was established at Tarracina in 329 and a Latin colony at Suessa Aurunca in 313, ahead of the road itself being built, but we also know that further colonies were established along the Via Appia after its construction: the citizen colonies of Sinuessa and Minturnae in northern Campania were both founded in 296, assuming the road to have reached this point by then. Livy (7.39.16) records that in 342 BCE some soldiers who had rebelled against Rome approached the city by the route “which is now the Appia”, and there are various other indications of significant Roman activity in the Pontine area before the building of Appius’ road in the years after 312.51 The Via Appia apparently followed, rather than preceding, various measures taken to reclaim the Pontine plain; in particular, on its approach to Tarracina, between the 45th and 57th milestones, the line of the road crosses at a 45-degree angle an area of land division, which can thus be dated to before the road.52 This and other initiatives are to be connected with the distribution of land in the former territory of Privernum to Roman citizens, who were later, in 318 BCE, assigned to the tribus Oufentina.53 In this area, at least – other areas of Italy may, of course, have been treated in a different way – we should be thinking of a series of Roman-influenced transformations of the landscape taking place over a number of years, with the building of the road, and related strategic considerations, being only one element in that process. Archaeological field survey suggests a significant upsurge in settlement in this area in the late fourth century, reflecting the impact of these initiatives.54 The various narratives of Appius Claudius’ career relate his building of the Via Appia and the Aqua Appia to his populist political agenda: according to Diodorus, Appius “established as a force against the hostility of the nobility the goodwill of the masses” (20.36.4). Some scholars have drawn analogies with the public works of the monarchs of the Hellenistic world.55 The negative tone of the literary accounts reflects in part at least the conventional treatment in the annalistic tradition of the Claudian family, whose members were thought to be notoriously prone to arrogance.56 The building of the Via Flaminia, too, can be seen as a manifestation of the broader populism of C. Fla-

51 52 53 54 55 56

See Bertrand in this volume. Laurence (2013) 300 with Cancellieri (1985); (1990) 66; Quilici Gigli (1992); Attema (1993) 236; Coarelli (2005) 185–189. For expressions of caution about the chronology of the land division, see De Haas (2011) 211. Liv. 8.11.13 (on the distribution) with Oakley (1998) ad loc.; 9.20.6 with Taylor (2013) 55–56 and Oakley (2005a) ad loc. De Haas (2011) 222. E. g. Humm (1996) 734–746. See e. g. Suetonius’ account of the family at the beginning of his Life of Tiberius (Tib. 2), with Wiseman (1979) 57–139; Oakley (2005a) 357–366.

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minius, who as tribune of the plebs distributed land on the Adriatic coast of northern Italy, and was, like Appius, the object of a hostile literary tradition.57 A further theme of these narratives is the tensions exacerbated within the political elite as a result of these building projects: who should take on the weighty task of building a road or aqueduct, and after whom, if anyone, should it be named? M’. Curius Dentatus behaved with exemplary virtue in this respect, since he did not name the Aqua Anio Vetus after himself; one possible reading of the events of 144 BCE is that Q. Marcius Rex was given the responsibility of building the new aqueduct, and restoring the existing ones, in order to avoid even greater prestige attaching itself to Mummius and to Scipio Aemilianus, or (perhaps) concern about further encouraging rivalry between the pair.58 On the other hand, despite the numerous references in the literary texts to Appius’ supposed disregard for the Senate and his alleged excessive expenditure (for example), it is clear that the Senate in fact remained in overall control of building strategy.59 We can contextualise these narratives within the broader pattern of conflict between rival individuals, and between individuals and the aristocracy as a whole in this period. One fundamental element in these conflicts was securing political support both in the city and in the countryside. Clearly the enhancement of the water supply for the city can be seen as beneficial for its urban population as a whole: the Aqua Appia terminated at the Forum Boarium, while the Anio Vetus terminated on the Esquiline. Appius Claudius is explicitly depicted by the sources as seeking in particular the support of the urban plebs: Livy talks about his efforts on behalf of “poor city-dwellers” which encouraged the support of the “forum crowd”.60 In some cases, too, communities outside of Rome may also have benefited from the provision of the water-supply to the city: Frontinus records that, in his time at least, the Anio Vetus was used to supply the town of Tibur, while we know that by 144 BCE some of the water of the Appia and Anio Vetus was being illegally diverted.61 The construction of roads also had potentially significant implications for the general population, because of the extensive labour requirements of these projects. It appears that, by contrast to the building (or re-building) of Rome’s city walls two generations previously, the roads were not built with the compulsory labour of Rome’s citizens: more slaves were now available, and the contract-model which was developing at this time meant that the freeborn element in the workforce needed to be paid.62 In fact, it has been suggested that Roman silver coinage may have been developed precisely

57 58 59 60 61 62

Plb. 2.21; see Laurence (1999) 21–23. Davies (2017) 143–144. Steinby (2012) 34. Liv. 9.46.11–14 with Bernard (2018a) 137–139. Aq. 1.6–7 with Evans (1993) 452–453; Wilson (1999) 315–317. Cornell (1995) 331–333; Bernard (2018a) 108–114, 159–192.

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in order to pay for the building of the Via Appia.63 This proposition has been extensively discussed, and the most recent contributions to the debate tend to suggest that silver coinage may have been introduced at the beginning of the third century rather than late in the fourth.64 Regardless of this, however, the massive scale of the multiple road-building schemes of the period required a very substantial workforce, may have provoked significant movements of population in search of work, and inevitably had a significant effect on the economies of the areas affected. Aqueduct building would also have required many workers, though given that the channels ran largely underground, a more specialist workforce may well have been needed. Bernard argues that local expertise in the use of polygonal masonry, characteristic of central and southern Italy, may have been employed in laying out the kerbs of the Via Appia, emphasising that the impact of the project would have been felt in Italian communities along the road, as well as at Rome.65 The road-building schemes, and to a lesser extent the aqueducts, had further implications, especially in political terms, for Italian communities through whose territories they passed: in the case of the Via Appia, an increasing number of these were now composed of Roman citizens, registered in voting tribes such as the Oufentina and the Falerna, the latter also created in 318, but in northern Campania.66 Obtaining and maintaining their support was a significant concern for Roman politicians, who were also keen to develop connections with their counterparts in Latin colonies and non-citizen communities. We know, for example, that the Plautii, a family which itself had strong connections with southern Latium, had a long-standing interest in the area around Privernum, with family members repeatedly involved in Rome’s military operations against that city;67 the involvement of C. Plautius Venox in the construction of the Via Appia, which ran through the former territory of Privernum, is therefore of particular interest. The relationship between Plautius and Appius may, then, have been more collaborative than Livy’s account suggests, unless the tensions between the two resulted from Appius stealing Plautius’ clients.68 The Claudii, for their part, continued to maintain links with the territories connected to Rome by the Via Appia, even after Appius Claudius’ death. Suetonius reports that a ‘Claudius Drusus’ (probably App. Claudius Russus, Appius’ eldest son and himself consul in 268 BCE, is meant) set up a statue of himself wearing a ‘diadem’ (perhaps to be interpreted as triumphal dress) at Forum Appii, a community established in the Pontine plain on the new road, and “attempted to seize control of Italy through his

63 64 65 66 67 68

Crawford (1985) 29, followed by Humm (1996) 733–734. Mattingly (2004) 100–129; Bernard (2018a) 148–153; Bernard (2018b) 4, 9; Termeer in this volume. Bernard (2018a) 130–131. MacBain (1980) 362. Terrenato (2014) 47–53; (2019) 174–181. MacBain (1980) 371; Bernard (2018a) 127.

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clients”.69 Similarly, a milestone dated to the mid-third century BCE, found a few miles away in the vicinity of Posta di Mesa, records the activity on the road of P. Claudius, to be identified as another son of Appius, together with his fellow aedile C. Furius, in the mid-250s BCE.70 In the same way a milestone at Vulci reveals another C. Aurelius Cotta, who probably served as consul in 144 or 119 BCE, engaged in building activity on one of the subsidiary routes of the Via Aurelia;71 while L. Caecilius Metellus Diadematus, consul in 117 BCE, engaged in building works on the route of the Via Caecilia, originally laid out, it seems, by an ancestor of his, L. Caecilius Metellus Denter, consul in 284.72 We know that road-building in Italy by Gaius Gracchus, in a later and better-attested period, “put a crowd of contractors and artisans under obligation to him, ready to do whatever he wanted them to” when construction was under way, and the same was no doubt true in the fourth and third centuries BCE.73 But just as the establishment of a colony might lead to an ongoing relationship between the community and its founder’s family,74 so the establishment of a road might also create a long-term source of political support for the family responsible. Terrenato’s recent re-examination of the expansion of Roman power in Italy in this period has laid emphasis on connections between Roman and Italian elites in the course of the process traditionally characterised as the ‘conquest’ of the peninsula. In this analysis the building of roads, and the enhanced communications with Rome that these brought, can be seen as initiatives which benefited the local elites of Italy as much as the Roman state.75 We might note that later in the Republic, leading men from areas with good road connections with Rome became involved in Roman public life at an earlier stage than aristocrats from less ‘connected’ areas, as these links potentially brought them into close contact with their Roman counterparts, and might be further consolidated by marriage ties and bonds of hospitium.76 Furthermore, there are indications that most Roman campaigning in the fourth and third centuries took place in less ‘connected’ areas, and that these were similarly more likely to rebel from Rome at the time of the Social War than more ‘connected’ ones.77 All in all, it makes sense not only to consider the construction of the road-network in broad strategic terms, but to think about the economic and political implications at a local level as well, in ways which can only be sketched out briefly here.

69 Suet. Tib. 2.2 with Wiseman (1994) 39–44. 70 CIL 12 21= ILLRP 448 = ILS 5801 with Coarelli (1988) 37; Humm (1996) 726–727; (2005) 139–144. 71 CIL 12 2391 = ILLRP 1288 with Wiseman (1970) 133–134. 72 Wiseman (1970) 134–136; Guidobaldi (2000). 73 App. BC 1.23 with Wiseman (1970) 150; Laurence (1999) 40. 74 Badian (1958) 162–163. 75 Terrenato (2019) 230–236. 76 Wiseman (1971) 28–30; Patterson (2016). 77 Laurence (2013) 299; Terrenato (2019) 233. See Fronda in this volume.

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V Conclusion To return to the ‘forecourt of the city’, where we began. The construction of the Via Appia did not just bring about the practical and military benefits of a new road, and distinction for the builder; the elite of the city of Rome also acquired a new location for aristocratic competition, outside the Porta Capena, where the road entered the city. If we are right to think the arcades which allowed the water supply to pass from the Caelian Hill to the Aventine were an original feature of the Aqua Appia, the aqueduct was visible here too.78 Noble families – the Metelli, the Servilii and the Atilii, as well as the Cornelii, who already had a burial plot nearby – began to establish their tombs here, and victory temples too: L. Cornelius Scipio’s Temple of the Tempestates, as well as Claudius Marcellus’ Temples of Honos and Virtus.79 For the urban plebs and for the peoples of Italy, the building of roads and aqueducts, whether directly or indirectly financed by spoils, had significant political and economic consequences: the roads, and – in so far as they were visible – the aqueducts served to structure the Italian peninsula according to Roman schemes. This was particularly apparent in the hinterland of the city: Frontinus uses the road-network of the suburbium to identify the routes of aqueducts, for example.80 In particular by providing sources of employment, the construction of the roads and aqueducts also served as a means of distributing the wealth derived from Rome’s conquests to the citizens and allies who had helped contribute to those victories – or, rather, to some of those citizens and allies. The benefits were mediated through the patronage networks of the Roman elite, which encouraged the beneficiaries to engage even more closely with the Roman imperial project. John R. Patterson Cambridge University [email protected]

78 Frontin. Aq. 1.5 with Evans (1994) 66–67; Rodgers (2004) 148–149. 79 Patterson (2000) 97–99. 80 Purcell (1990); Carlà-Uhink (2017) 94–95.

The Human Spoils of the Roman Republic* Katharine P. D. Huemoeller I Introduction The spoils that Republican Rome acquired in war took both nonhuman and human form. In this chapter, I focus on the latter: on how the people seized in military action were exploited by the Roman state. It is almost certainly the institution of slavery that first comes to mind – and for good reason. Defeated men, women and children were regularly sold into slavery and the proceeds from these sales were deposited into the treasury alongside the material spoils. Ancient writers tell us little about the mechanics of these sales, and still less about the experiences of the individuals that were trafficked, but what they do report, the numbers of people sold, are staggering: 25,000 at Agrigentum in 261; 150,000 at Epirus in 167; 9,500 from various Lusitanian cities in 142; the list goes on.1 These figures, reported especially frequently in Livy, have long dominated any discussion of the profits that Rome derived from captives.2

*

1 2

My research assistants Emma Ramsden and Jaymie Orchard made many thoughtful contributions to this chapter, for which I am most grateful. I also received useful feedback on parts of this material from the participants in the 2019 Langford Colloquium at Florida State University and the 2019 annual meeting of the Association of Ancient Historians. Finally, I extend my thanks to the editors of this volume for their invitation to participate and their helpful feedback. Diod. Sic. 23.9.1 (Agrigentum), Liv. 45.34.5 (Epirus), App. Hisp. 68 (Lusitanian cities). All dates BCE unless otherwise noted. As demonstrated by the existence of many tables listing the year, place and number of people captured or enslaved (the difference is not always noted) in a given period, e. g. Harris (1979) 59 n. 4; Ziółkowski (1986) 74, n. 36–37; Oakley (1993) 25; Welwei (2000) 159–160; Scheidel (2011) 295; Wickham (2014) 210–217. The only monograph on the topic of captives in the Republic, Welwei (2000), is focused on the accuracy of tallies of prisoners of war from literary sources through the Second Punic War. Wickham (2014) examines enslavement in war as a source of slaves down to 146. Boese (1973) 37–40; 72–88 and Volkmann (1990) also compile the evidence for mass enslavements through war. This interest in quantifying the number of slaves taken in conquest is due, in part, to the particular research questions driving much of this scholarship: the size of the slave population in Roman Italy and the relative importance of the various sources of slaves. For a summary of the long-standing debate over the slave supply, see Scheidel (2011).

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As high as these counts are, they should be regarded as only a starting point for quantifying the value derived from captives as spoils of war. I say this not because tallies of captives sold are reported in ancient sources sporadically (though they are) or because they are suspiciously round and repetitive (though, again, they are), but for a different reason entirely: sale was only one means by which the people acquired through conquest were turned into assets.3 Besides being treated as commodities, captives were also used as skilled laborers, rewards for allies, sources for intelligence and for many other purposes.4 We cannot, therefore, quantify the value of captives in terms of how much wealth their sale generated. Their productive, political and tactical ­value – to use the examples above – might be equally significant. Moreover, the tallies in ancient sources frequently understate even the monetary value of captives, since some prisoners, especially non-combatants, drop out of the historical record altogether. By focusing on all modes of exploitation and all individuals exploited, we can draw a more nuanced picture of the human assets acquired through conquest. II A Case Study at Satricum Close analysis of one conflict will serve to demonstrate what is gained by taking a ­wider view, as well as the difficulties inherent in doing so. In 346 the city of Satricum, just south of Rome, capitulated to the Roman army at its gates.5 Some three hundred years later, Livy described the city’s fate: Satricum was burned, its spoils given to the Roman soldiers and 4,000 of its inhabitants paraded in the consul’s triumph before being auctioned off. It is tempting to treat the figure of 4,000 people sold as being at least roughly indicative of the human spoils acquired in this conquest. Indeed, if Livy had

3

4

5

Most historians agree that the tallies, like any numbers given by ancient sources, are not reliable. Scheidel (2011) 295, for example, notes that our sources do not give counts for certain theatres of war. For an in-depth critical assessment of the tallies down to the end of the Second Punic War, see Welwei (2000). Welwei (2000) comments throughout on the imprecision of our sources regarding the fate of captives. Wickham (2014), though centred around conquest as a source for slaves, carefully considers other possibilities besides sale. Notably, in his table of references to capture in war (210–217), he includes a column for ‘outcome’ in order to distinguish between capture, enslavement, release, etc., though he does not differentiate between enslavement and sale. Other works that take a more comprehensive approach to captives include Ducrey (1968) for Greek warfare into the Roman period and Bradley (2004) especially 306, 309, 315 for the Principate. Bradley (2004) shows, for example, that there was a “range of possibilities for enslaved captives, their sale and distribution into the slave economy being one” (315). Rome experienced problems at Satricum throughout the mid-fourth century. For the historical context, see Armstrong (2016a) 252. For the reliability of historical records for warfare in this period, see Armstrong (2016a) 18–46.

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access to any accurate information about this conflict, it might have been a description of the resulting triumph and the number of captives that marched in it.6 Livy’s own reconstruction of the events, however, suggests that this figure tells only part of the story. As he reports it, the 4,000 captives in the triumph were not the only people taken from Satricum as spoils of war, nor was sale the only means of their exploitation (Liv. 7.27.7–9): [When Satricum was surrounded] 4,000 soldiers in addition to a mass of non-combatants surrendered. The city was destroyed and burned … All of the spoils were given to the [Roman] soldiers. The 4,000 [soldiers] that capitulated were counted as separate from the spoils, and these men the consul drove in chains before his chariot in his triumph. Then, selling them, he brought in a great sum to the treasury.7

In Livy’s initial description of the city, he identifies other people within the walls of Satricum besides the 4,000 soldiers: non-combatants. He fails, though, to explain what happens to this group, who presumably consisted of enslaved people and free women, children and elderly people. A literal reading would suggest that they were subsumed within the larger category of spoils, since Livy notes that only the 4,000 destined for Rome were counted as extra praedam (distinct from the spoils). These spoils, human and non-human, went to the Roman soldiers, who would then have had the choice to either keep their new possessions or sell them for profit. In either case then, ­whether held by a soldier or sold, the non-combatants would have become (or remained) slaves, just like the 4,000 soldiers. In contrast to the soldiers, however, Livy’s account treats them as an anonymous mass that becomes merged with the material spoils of war, not individuals to be counted. If we were to treat the 4,000 captives sold as the profit generated by this conflict, we would miss not only the full body of people seized in conquest, but also the full range of ways in which these people were utilized. The captives taken at Satricum acted as more than goods for sale. The civilian population, for one, served as a reward for the Roman soldiers. Some of them may have ended up trafficked, like the 4,000, but they came to the market through different means and with different parties as the beneficiaries of their sale. Similarly, those 4,000 that were eventually auctioned were set aside for a very specific purpose: through their transfer to the city of Rome and display in triumph, they became a means of propaganda for the commander.8 Just as Livy’s account prioritizes certain individuals by counting them (4,000 soldiers), so it prior-

6 7 8

See Armstrong in this volume for the specificity of spoils associated with triumphs in the fourth and fifth centuries. … quattuor milia militum praeter multitudinem imbellem sese dedidere. Oppidum dirutum atque incensum … Praeda omnis militi data. Extra praedam quattuor milia deditorum habita; eos vinctos consul ante currum triumphans egit; venditis deinde magnam pecuniam in aerarium redegit. See Fronda in this volume.

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itizes certain outcomes (money for the public treasury). In focusing on those that were counted, we risk replicating Livy’s attitude – and perhaps the attitude of his sources, too – that not all human spoils were equally significant. A qualitative approach, rather than a quantitative one, can help to counteract the bias of our sources, but we are still confronted with a significant problem. I have based my analysis on a close reading of Livy’s language, but his description of the conflict at Satricum may reflect the practices of his own day rather than the fourth century. In fact, Livy admits to some uncertainty about the details of his account. After reporting the version of the story that I have just analysed, he goes on to note that there is a dispute over the identity of the 4,000 men auctioned after the triumph: “Some think that this group of captives consisted of slaves, and this is more likely than that the [free soldiers] that had surrendered were sold” (sunt qui hanc multitudinem captivam servorum fuisse scribant, ­idque magis veri simile est quam deditos venisse) (7.27.9). Livy and his sources regard the commander’s behaviour as unduly harsh – probably by the standards of their own time – so they rationalize that the story must be incorrect. The people that the commander sold, they propose, were more disposable: they were those that already held slave status. The ambiguity over the identity of the captives sold at Satricum surely stems, in part, from the centuries that had elapsed between this event and Livy’s lifetime.9 In this case, as in others we will examine, it is difficult to associate certain practices with certain periods of the Republic. But what Livy’s uncertainty also exposes is significant variability in practice. There was no established, consistent way in which the people captured in conflict were commuted into resources. Instead, we will see that commanders had a great deal of autonomy and choice in how they exploited their captives. I turn now to laying out these options, starting first with the most familiar, sale. III Sale of Prisoners of War When the Roman army took a city, camp or countryside or defeated an enemy in open battle, the people left standing – male or female, combatant or civilian, of whatever age and legal standing (enslaved, non-citizen, etc.)  – could be taken captive. There were expectations, as expressed by Livy in the case of Satricum, that surrender or, for example, a community’s past relationship with Rome might bring more favourable treatment in the aftermath of a conflict, but these expectations were not always met.10

9 10

On this passage, Forsythe (1999) 68, notes that it was far more likely that early Romans did sell the 4,000 combatants but that Livy “reinterpreted the harsh reality to fit their notion that Rome’s actions were always honorable or at least justified.” Deditio, a ritual in which a community surrendered unconditionally to Rome, sometimes induced a commander to be merciful. For the debate over the extent to which this ritual exerted pressure on the commander, see Eckstein (1995) and Burton (2009).

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Conceptually, prisoners of war occupied the same position as household furnishings, arms, precious metals and whatever else the soldiers had confiscated. They were Roman property to be disposed of as the commander saw fit.11 The way a commander chose to handle captives, though – whether they were sold on the spot, distributed or held for other purposes – might be distinct from the way that he handled other types of spoils, because human spoils presented both unique challenges and unique opportunities for gain. First, the challenges: captives consumed more resources than other spoils, both in terms of supplies like food and water, and in terms of the manpower needed to guard them.12 For this reason, commanders frequently sought to dispose of captives as quickly as possible. There are multiple references to the mass sale of prisoners “on the next day” following a conflict and commanders sometimes even urged soldiers to sell the individual captives they had acquired before the army set out again.13 The longer captives were held and the farther they were moved, the more resources were consumed, so sale was a logical choice, especially since slave traders followed the army in anticipation of such a decision.14 The problem with immediate sale, however, was that it was not the most lucrative way to dispose of captives. It did not allow commander, in other words, to benefit from the unique opportunities presented by captives, as compared to other spoils.15 Some prisoners, such as those who were literate or in prime physical condition, might command a particularly high price on the slave market if sold individually rather than auctioned as a group. Even more importantly, some prisoners could be exploited for non-monetary returns. When a commander performed a wholesale auction, he chose to forgo these other possibilities. Such a decision made sense in certain circumstances, if, for example, the army needed to move quickly or if punishment was the primary concern. When Julius Caesar auctioned an entire city during the Gallic Wars, for example, it was clearly retribution, rather than profit, that drove the sale. The city had

11

Given limitations of space, I will not delve into the legal standing of these individuals, for which see Wickham (2014) 14–23. My working assumption throughout is that commanders had the authority to dispose of captives in the immediate aftermath of conflict. There is little evidence for consultation of the Senate or intervention by it, not surprising given the speed at which decisions seem to have been made. Wickham (2014) 23–27, collects the relevant sources for senatorial involvement. Churchill (1999) breaks down the precise type of authority that magistrates had over spoils, distinguishing between custody and ownership. See Rosenstein (2011) for magistrates’ profits from war. 12 Rosenstein (2011) 147–148, discusses the logistical issues involved in holding captives. 13 App. Mith. 38, Caes. BGall. 2.33, Liv. 4.34.4, 5.22.1. Suspiciously, we do not hear of sale on the second or third day, but the overall message is clear: the sale was carried out quickly. 14 See García Morcillo in this volume for an in-depth discussion of the immediate liquidation of both human and non-human spoils immediately following a conflict. 15 Especially given that, as Rosenstein (2011) 146–147 argues, a glut of captives on the market would depress prices.

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angered him by feigning surrender. His indifference towards material gain is demonstrated by his failure to even count the captives he put up for sale, much less assess their particular value. It was the buyers that reported back to him that there were 53,000 people auctioned.16 Caesar’s disinterest in differentiating among his captives was not the norm. Commanders frequently sought to maximize their profit, monetary and otherwise, by dividing their captives into different groups with different fates – by aligning, in other words, the treatment of captives with their perceived value. A clear pattern emerges: particularly dangerous or valuable prisoners were separated out for special treatment and then those that were left over, the “remainder” (τὰ λοιπὰ) as they are sometimes called, were put up for sale.17 To cite just a few examples: senators might be picked out and the rest sold, citizens picked out and the rest sold, or a certain ethnic group picked out and the rest sold.18 This use of sale as the fallback option is expressed most explicitly by an early Roman senator in Dionysius of Halicarnassus’ Roman Antiquities. During a debate over how to respond to the Latins’ violation of their treaty with Rome in the early Republic, the senator proposed razing their cities and taking their territory. As for the inhabitants, he advised a three-part distinction: [1] Make citizens of those who had shown goodwill towards them [the Romans], allowing them to keep their property; [2] kill those responsible for the revolt, by whom the treaty had been broken; and [3] make slaves of the poor, the lazy and the useless.19

In his formulation the conquered people should not all be subject to the same treatment, because they did not all present the same advantages and disadvantages. The most valuable were to be incorporated as citizens, the most dangerous killed and the remainder, “the lazy, poor and useless” (πτωχὸν καὶ ἀργὸν καὶ ἄχρηστον), sold. In what follows, I consider what could make a captive “useful”, to use Dionysius’ language – how, in other words, a captive’s labour, wealth and other resources could be harnessed for Rome’s benefit.20

16 Caes. BGall. 2.33. 17 As in Diod. Sic. 23.18.5, Plb. 10.19.8. For a similar construction in Latin, see Liv. 4.34.4, 26.16.6. 18 As just three examples, Liv. 4.29.4–5 (senators), Plut. Vit. Marc. 19.2 (citizens) and Liv. 9.42.7–10 (ethnic group). 19 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 6.20.5: τῶν δ᾿ ἀνθρώπων τοὺς μὲν εὔνοιάν τινα πρὸς αὐτοὺς ἀποδειξαμένους ἔχον­τας τὰ σφέτερα πολίτας ποιήσασθαι, τοὺς δ᾿ αἰτίους τῆς ἀποστάσεως, ὑφ᾿ ὧν αἱ σπονδαὶ διελύ­ θησαν, ὡς προδότας ἀποκτεῖναι· ὅσον δὲ τοῦ δήμου πτωχὸν καὶ ἀργὸν καὶ ἄχρηστον, ἐν ἀνδραπόδων ποιήσασθαι λόγῳ. 20 Josephus’ description of the treatment of the captives seized in Jerusalem in AD 70 is very similar (BJ 6.415–9). He reports that the elderly men were killed, while those who were in the prime of life and useful (χρήσιμοι) were kept alive for various purposes. It was only those under seventeen years of age, and perhaps female captives, who are not mentioned again, who were sold. For further analysis of this passage, see Bradley (2004) 308–311.

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IV Releasing Captives Auction was one way to commute captives into coin to bring back to the treasury; ransom was another. Commanders sometimes released individual prisoners in return for a payment, a process akin to sale but within a closed market of family and friends.21 Since discrete transactions were cumbersome given the quantity of captives in many conflicts, however, it was also common for the two sides to negotiate a set price for release. In 295, for example, when the Roman consul Q. Fabius Maximus Rullianus put down a revolt at Perusia, he killed 4,500 people and took another 1,740 captive (Liv. 10.31.3). The captives were ransomed at 310 asses per head, with the remaining spoils going to the soldiers. If all of the survivors paid up, the consul would have returned to Rome with 539,400 asses for the treasury without selling any captives. We should wonder, though, if all members of the community had the individual resources to pay or the standing to compel the community to pay on their behalf. It is possible that some of the people seized – the enslaved or non-citizens, for example – were subsumed into the larger category of spoils given to the soldiers. Livy’s narrative here, as at Satricum, may obscure the multiple possible outcomes for captives. We can only hypothesize about the Perusine captives, but in other cases, we know for certain that, whether they were offered it or not, some captives could not afford to pay for their release. Only half of the residents of Panormus, for example, paid the ransom that their envoys had negotiated when the city was besieged in 254 during the First Punic War. The 14,000 that could make the payment were freed, while the remainder, 13,000 people, were sold alongside the household goods (Diod. Sic. 23.18.5).22 From the perspective of the captives, the ability to pay ransom was enormously significant: it was the difference between freedom and enslavement. For the commander, on the other hand, the ransom of some captives and the sale of others had a similar result: both transactions proffered a monetary return for every captive. The release of certain captives also had indirect benefits for commanders, who freed select prisoners without payment (sine pretio) on multiple occasions. When Sulla took Athens in 86, for example, he sold the enslaved prisoners but offered release to the few surviving free people (App. Mith. 38). A similar pattern is recorded in Marcellus’ sack of Syracuse (Plut. Vit. Marc. 19.2), where the slaves were taken and citizens spared, and in the capture of Asculum, in which, as Orosius records, Pompey Strabo beheaded the leading men, sold the enslaved at auction, and “ordered the remaining people to depart, free, but stripped and destitute” (reliquos liberos quidem sed nudos et egentes abire

21

22

For example, Liv. 29.6.4–7. As noted by Wickham (2014) 56, though there are not many specific references to the ransom of individuals, the fact that ancient authors frequently note when people are released without ransom suggests that ransom was, in fact, common practice. See Collas-Hedde­ land (2009) on this topic. See Rosenstein (2011) 146, on the prices for ransom.

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praecepit) (5.18.26). In these cases, the commander was willing to forgo financial gain from certain captives, but not, importantly, from all. It was the enslaved in the captured community who were utilized as commodities for the market, while captives of free standing were released.23 The fates of these two groups were linked: in taking the enslaved, the commander appropriated the property of the free, so that they were left, to quote Orosius, “free, but stripped and destitute”. The free and citizen populations in these places experienced property loss and the devastation of their city, but they did not suffer the worse fates of death and enslavement that they witnessed others in their community undergo. This differential treatment of captives was a strategy. Those that experienced comparatively favourable treatment – often the free or citizens – were supposed to be indebted to the commander who had made the choice (and it was a choice) to spare them.24 The political benefits of releasing certain captives are described most explicitly in Polybius’ account of Scipio Africanus’ sack of New Carthage in 209.25 Polybius reports that Scipio released the male citizen captives, along with their wives and children (10.17.6), with Livy adding the further detail that he “restored their city and everything which the war had left behind for them” (urbemque et sua omnia quae reliqua eis bellum fecerat restituit) (26.47.1). There was probably little that remained; the city had been burned and looted. The promise of property though – in addition to release – clearly demarcated these individuals as the favoured ones. And the process by which they were assigned this fate only served to emphasize their privilege. Scipio had first collected all the prisoners in one place, before dividing them into groups with different futures, which, at New Carthage, included release, public slavery and sale. In this way, all of the captives came face-to-face with the distinctions made between them. Such a method must have made his exhortation to the citizens “to be favourable to the Romans and remember the kindness [shown]” (εὐνοεῖν Ῥωμαίοις καὶ μνημονεύειν τῆς εὐεργεσίας) (Polyb. 10.17.8) all the more effective. Indeed, Polybius claims that Scipio’s actions had the desired effect: before the citizens departed home, they made obeisance (προσκυνέω) to Scipio (10.17.9). By this treatment of the citizen captives, Polybius

23 24

25

For the treatment of enslaved prisoners of war, see Huemoeller (2021). For the political advantages of releasing prisoners of war and a comparison between Roman and Greek practice, see Collas-Heddeland (2009). High-status individuals from a defeated community might also become hostages, that is, persons held by the Roman state as security. I will not address this topic, but it is worth noting that there is some conceptual overlap between prisoners of war and hostages, for example in triumph, as shown by Östenberg (2009) 166. For hostages in general, see Elbern (1990) and Allen (2006). I refer to Scipio’s treatment of the captives at New Carthage throughout this chapter, because Scipio was unusually strategic with his use of prisoners and because there is more detail than usual about their treatment. The level of detail may be due to the particular interest of Polybius in this topic, given his personal history. At the same time, we should be cautious about generalizing from this exceptional incident, as Ziółkowski (1993) shows with regard to Polybius’ description of the sack of the city.

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­ oted, Scipio generated “affection and loyalty” (εὔνοιαν καὶ πίστιν) (10.17.15) to himself n and Rome. Polybius’ interpretation is overly positive – submission is probably a more accurate word than affection – but it does reflect the expectation that a commander’s treatment of prisoners could be used to elicit desired behaviour from them, both for Rome and the commander himself.26 The obedience of select members of the citizen or free community was useful for the commander because it was these individuals that continued to inhabit the city – the others were trafficked on the slave market and dispersed throughout the Mediterranean. Released prisoners could offer longer term political gain or be utilized immediately for the war effort. During his campaign against Philip V, for example, the consul P. Sulpicius Galba seized a city strategically located on the border with Macedonia. Since he wanted to use the city as a base for future raids, he made decisions about the inhabitants with such a goal in mind: he chose to take the enslaved captives as plunder and release the freeborn sine pretio (without ransom) (Liv. 31.40.5). By differentiating among the captives, he managed to effect both material gain, through the enslaved captives, and the strategic advantage of a city populated with inhabitants obedient to him and his troops. V Captive Labour There were also other, more tangible ways that commanders used captives to support their immediate needs. Scipio Africanus, for example, made direct use of captive labour for military purposes. During the aforementioned sack of New Carthage, after releasing the citizens, Scipio then separated out the skilled labourers from the larger mass of captives.27 These people he made into public slaves, confining them to arsenals where they were ordered to produce weapons for the Roman army.28 They would be freed after the war, Scipio promised, if they worked diligently. Captives also performed unskilled manual labour for Scipio. From the captives left over at New Carthage – the non-citizens, non-artisans – he next picked out the most physically fit men to serve as rowers in the navy. These men were again incentivized to work for the opposing side by

26

27 28

Marcellus and the Syracusans can serve as one very convoluted example of the ongoing relationship between commander and released prisoners. Although Marcellus released the free Syracusans, their city was left in such a terrible state that they appealed to the Senate to complain about their treatment (Liv. 26.32.6–8). When the Senate confirmed Marcellus’ action, the Syracusans appealed to Marcellus himself, who became their patron, a role he passed down to his descendants. See Pfuntner in this volume for analysis of these events. Liv. 26.47.2; Plb. 10.17.9. Liv. 27.17.7, 29.35.8. A similar detail is found in Diodorus Siculus’ account of the First Sicilian Slave War. Eunus, the leader of the rebel army, orders that all captives from Enna be killed except those skilled in the manufacture of weapons (34/35.2.15).

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the promise of manumission.29 The artisans and rowers were enslaved, then, but perhaps only temporarily. In comparison, the remainder (τὰ λοιπὰ) of the captives – made up of the non-citizen, non-artisan, young or elderly male captives and the non-citizen female captives – were handed over to the tribunes for sale and a return of cash (Plb. 10.19.8). Scipio used the institution of slavery to dispose of all of his non-citizen captives, then, but in highly particularized ways that extracted the most value from them as individuals. Besides their physical capabilities, captives possessed local knowledge and language skills that could be beneficial. In the Third Punic War, Scipio Aemilianus used captives strategically in a mission to rescue his colleague Mancinus.30 Aemilianus was in Utica when he learned that his colleague Mancinus was under attack in nearby Carthage. Unable to reach him to offer assistance until morning, Aemilianus decided to use some of his Carthaginian prisoners to broadcast his impending arrival. Before setting sail, he released a few of the captives in the hope that they would manage to communicate Aemilianus’ movements to their kinsmen. His strategy worked. The Carthaginians, informed of his plan by the freed captives, immediately fell back when his ships came into view the next morning. More frequently, captives served as sources of information on enemy plans. Julius Caesar’s army, in particular, routinely interrogated prisoners of war for intelligence on everything from the location of the enemy’s supplies to the best place to set up camp.31 This practice was not merely opportunistic. Prisoners were caught for the express purpose of interrogation. Captive soldiers could disclose enemy strategy, while non-combatants, like the farmers captured and interrogated by Caesar’s legates (Caes. BGall. 6.30.1), could offer key topographical, linguistic or cultural information. Caesar’s use of captive intelligence was systematized. The information gleaned was checked against that provided by other prisoners, deserters or scouts, and, once verified, used for plan-

29

Liv. 26.47.3; Plb. 10.17.12. For the use of galley slaves in the Second Punic War see Libourel (1973) 118, who observes that, while this use of captives is not attested elsewhere, none of our sources treat Scipio’s actions as worthy of comment. 30 App. Pun. 114; Zonar. 9.29. 31 For just a few examples, see Caes. BGall. 1.22.1, 2.16.1, 5.18. For many more instances and further analysis of Caesar’s use of captives as sources of information, see Austin & Rankov (2002) 67–73 and Sheldon (2004) 123–124. This use of captives is also attested in Liv. 27.5.10 and App. Hann. 42 and Hisp. 95. In an examination of Roman intelligence practices, Sheldon (2004) 19, takes it as a given that captives would be interrogated, but notes that we have very few specific references to such a practice outside of Caesar’s commentaries. I suspect that the practice is frequently attested in Caesar’s commentaries not because Caesar was doing something unique, but because the commentaries are a unique source. Riggsby (2006) 205, for example, notes that tallies of captives appear only occasionally in the De Bello Gallico because such details belong to a triumphal narrative rather than a battle narrative. The use of captives as a source for intelligence, on the other hand, is the kind of information that appears in this style of narrative to characterize Caesar as a general. In particular, it serves to highlight Caesar’s foresight (206).

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ning future moves and, retrospectively, assessing the success of past ones.32 Intelligence was, for Caesar, an important, primary function of captives. It was not, however, a permanent function. Once the desired information was extracted, the individual was probably sold. For commanders, then, captives with specialized knowledge presented a two-for-one value: they could be exploited first for their strategic value and then for a monetary return. VI Captives as Gifts So far, we have discussed ways that captives were utilized on direct behalf of the state or commander, but their value might also be transferred to other parties: soldiers, allies, the Roman public or even the defeated themselves. As a particularly valuable type of spoil, they were ideal for currying favour with or appeasing these various interest groups. Soldiers are the most frequently attested beneficiaries of captives. Sometimes they were granted the entire population of captives taken in a particular engagement – as when Caesar’s men were permitted to keep the people and livestock that they had seized from the territory of the Nervii (Caes. BGall. 6.3.2) – while at other times soldiers received only a portion. The same pattern that we have seen elsewhere applied here: the mass of captives could be divided up and allocated to different purposes. The portion that went to the soldiers was usually composed of the captives assessed as lower in value. After the Battle of Alesia, for example, Caesar set aside captives from particular tribes for diplomatic purposes before distributing the rest among the soldiers (Caes. BGall. 7.89.5). Each soldier received one captive, with the remainder, presumably, sold. A similar strategy is attested in the early Republic. When the Roman army plundered the Volscian camp in 385, Livy claims that the soldiers were given “all of the spoils except the free people” (praedaque omnis praeter libera corpora).33 Just as Caesar separated captives by ethnicity, the commander in this engagement is represented as dividing them by status. The enslaved captives were used to compensate the army, while the free prisoners were transferred to Rome to be interrogated by the Senate. The primary function of captives in both cases was diplomatic, while the internal political work of appeasing the soldiers came second.

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For an example of this retrospective intelligence, see Caes. BGall. 5.8.6. Again, these references to what Caesar later learned through captives have a narrative function. By breaking the “rigid chronological sequence of the text”, Caesar gives himself special powers of foresight, as noted by Riggsby (2006) 193. Liv. 6.13.6. As in the case of Satricum above and Fidenae below, Livy may be reflecting contemporary rather than historical practice.

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Decisions about which soldiers received which prisoners were based not only on the perceived value of the prisoner, but also the merit of the soldier. Livy reports that after the capture of Fidenae in 426, it was only the cavalry and centurions that were honoured with gifts of captives. Even among this group, though, distinctions were made. Those who had demonstrated “conspicuous bravery” (eximia virtus) were given two captives each, while everyone else received one (Liv. 4.34.4). The remaining captives were, as usual, sold. In this case captives served not simply to reward soldiers, but as a means to distinguish particularly worthy behaviour. Captives could also be used to appease, or create, allies. The Roman commander during the Galatian War, Cn. Manlius Vulso, may have employed such a strategy in response to an unusual set of circumstances. In 189 Vulso attacked a large contingent of Galatians taking refuge on Mount Olympus. The total number of prisoners, according to Livy and Appian, reached 40,000 because the Galatian camp included both soliders and civilians. The entire Galatian population had fled there “like a people migrating rather than one setting out to war” (demigrantium magis quam in bellum euntium modo) (Liv. 38.23.9). Vulso seems to have had more spoils, human and otherwise, than he knew what to do with. While Livy and Appian agree that he disposed of the arms taken by burning them, they disagree over how he managed the prisoners. Livy reports that he sold some and gave others to the soldiers, while Appian writes that he handed them all over to the neighbouring tribes (Syr. 42). The discrepancy suggests that the isolation of his location and the large numbers of prisoners encouraged him to employ a range of strategies. By handing over some of the captives to the tribes nearby, he might have hoped to buy their favour and future cooperation.34 Another, more distant interest group that commanders sought to gratify was the populace back home in Italy.35 Captives were employed in this case, too, albeit in less direct ways than those we have examined so far. Italians did not receive captives as gifts, but they did benefit from the low slave prices produced by the influx of prisoners on the market. Since many captives were sold on site, some wound up in Italy via the slave market, while others were transported to Rome for the commander’s triumph and then, subsequently, for sale. The importance of prisoners in triumph has long been recognized, but the public sale following the parade must have been equally important as a second opportunity to draw attention to the wealth generated by conquest and its benefits for the Roman people. In the early Republic, commanders were reported to have brought to the city larges masses of captives to be sold as slaves. These numbers may have dwindled in the middle and late Republic as wars grew more distant and

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See Roselaar (2012b) for captives distributed to Latin and Italian allies in the middle Republic. In this case the prisoners were primarily a burden to the allies, since they were supposed to guard them as state prisoners. Coudry (2009b) examines the Roman public as a beneficiary of spoils of war, including but not limited to captives.

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commanders became more selective about how many prisoners they brought back, but it is difficult to be sure, because the sources are focused on the identity of high-status captives rather than the quantity of prisoners overall.36 While large groups of captives were usually sold after a triumph, those of higher status were typically executed or interned.37 In rare cases, however, the prisoners paraded in triumph were neither killed, held or sold, but instead returned to their homeland, functioning as a reward for their own people or communities. After his triumph of 61 Pompey went against custom by choosing not to execute his prisoners. Instead, he sent all of the captives except the kings back home at public expense (App. Mith. 117) in a strategic move intended to emphasize Pompey’s generosity towards the people of the East. The granting of captives to their home community is attested outside of the triumphal context in the early Republic. In 459 the Senate decided to compensate the Latins for their loyalty by giving them back the nearly 6,000 Latin prisoners of war held in the city. These captives were first clothed as free men and then returned to their people without ransom, as a gift (δωρεά) (Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 6.25.4). In response, the Latins sent an envoy to Rome with a golden crown. The party was accompanied by the released captives themselves who dispersed to the homes in which they had been enslaved to thank their former masters for their release (Liv. 2.22.6–7). Here, importantly, we see that these captives had not been held by the state, but distributed or sold as slaves to individual households. The grant was, thus, from the Roman perspective a financial one: rather than rewarding the Latins with material goods, they rewarded them with their own people. VII Conclusion Recent work has called into question the long-held assumption that Roman conquest was profitable. Based on the available hard data – the triumphs and indemnities reported by our literary sources – war may have served to drain the state coffers for much of the Republic.38 Given such conclusions, it becomes all the more important that we look beyond the number of coins in the treasury to reconsider what profit looked like. This chapter has argued that the value derived from the people taken captive in Rome’s conflicts has been underestimated. Prisoners of war were a particularly adaptable type of spoil: they could be immediately commuted into coin or they could be utilized in myriad other ways instead of, or simply before, being sold. Commanders did not fol36 37 38

Östenberg (2009) 128–129. For the execution of captives after triumph, see Östenberg (2009) 160–163 and Beard (2009) 128– 132. As discussed in Rosenstein (2011; 2016a); Taylor (2017); and Rich and Rosenstein in this volume.

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low one consistent practice, but instead modulated their use of captives in response to both their particular needs and their calculation of these individuals’ inherent value, as products on the marketplace, as bodies to compel to hard labour and as political entities. By paying attention to these variable modes of extracting profit from captives, we acquire a more comprehensive view of the benefits Rome reaped in war, not all of which were material. Even more importantly, we gain a better understanding of the experience of Roman conquest. In conquered communities, all people – the free and the enslaved, citizen and non-citizen, elite and non-elite, soldiers and non-combatants – might be exploited as human spoils of war, but not, importantly, in the same way. Katharine Huemoeller The University of British Columbia [email protected]

Plunder, Common Soldiers, and Military Service in the Third and Second Centuries BCE François Gauthier I Introduction The financial attractiveness of military service is the main argument brought forward by most ancient historians to explain why Roman citizens systematically accepted to serve in the long and hard wars of the Republic.1 This is part of a much broader discussion about the nature of Roman imperialism in the Republic, that is still ongoing. In this chapter I wish to focus on the amount of plunder that soldiers could expect in a campaign. I will argue that soldiers did not always profit from war as much and as regularly as it is often assumed. If there was anyone who profited from conquest it was the ruling elite as well as the aerarium, much more so than the common soldiery. However, the aim of this chapter is not to deny that warfare could be profitable for soldiers; it rather wishes to nuance this claim. What part of the plunder could the soldiers normally expect? The sources do not allow us to give a simple answer to that question.2 In modern research the debate on spoils has often followed a legalistic approach, focusing on the precise meaning of words such as spolia, manubiae, and praeda. More recent contributions have, however, shown the limits of such a methodology.3 The goal of this chapter is therefore not to focus on definitions, but to try to find out what kind of trend existed, if any, pertaining to the allocation of plunder to common soldiers during the middle Republic.

1 2 3

For example Harris (1979); Rosenstein (2004). Tarpin (2000) 368: “Aucun texte portant sur la répartition du butin ne nous est parvenu, et il est plus que probable qu’il n’y en eut pas.” Vogel (1948) 394–422; Bona (1958) 237–268; (1959) 309–370; (1960) 105–175; Shatzman (1972) 177– 205; Gonzalez Roman (1980) 139–150; Liou-Gille (1992) 155–172; Churchill (1999) 85–116; Wolters (2008) 228–245; Coudry (2009b) 21–79; Tarpin (2009) 81–102; Rosillo-López (2010) 981–999; Rosenstein (2011) 131–158.

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II Polybius’ Model Polybius, in a famous passage depicting the capture of Carthago Nova in 209, describes the way the Romans ‘normally’ sacked cities. His account provides a picture of a perfectly ordered process in which certain units were assigned to plunder while others secured the town and suppressed any resistance left. The captured loot was then divided equally between all the soldiers. According to Polybius this preserved discipline and ensured the safety of the army.4 This passage seems to fit well with Polybius’ narrative of Rome’s military and political institutions in Book 6, where everything seems to be well organized and structured. However, not only is Polybius’ model not corroborated by other sources, his depiction of a ‘rationalized’ sack is also contradicted by other accounts. First, generals were sometimes unable to stop their troops from plundering when they wanted to do so. For instance, in 190, after the surrender of Phocaea, which had sided with Antiochus, Roman soldiers started pillaging the town despite the praetor’s orders claiming that “cities were pillaged after an assault, not after a surrender and that in any case it was the general and not the soldiers who decided”.5 In 189, the officer commanding a body of the army under the command of the consul Cn. Manlius Vulso operating against the Galatians could not keep his men from plundering the enemy camp. Similarly, a different part of the same army, after successfully defeating another Galatian tribe, remained in the enemy camp to plunder it, instead of pursuing its opponents.6 Polybius’ model of looting implies that Roman officers would always be able to force thousands of armed men still bloodied and under the adrenaline rush of recent combat to share their plunder with others. The examples cited show that this was not always the case. Additionally, the idea of an equal share of plunder for everybody assumes that the Romans did not know cupidity and that no soldier ever had the thought of stealing something without declaring it.7 It is more likely that the way a sack was conducted greatly varied according to the harshness of the fighting, the attitude of the commander, the mood of the troops and the wealth of the city sacked. Polybius’ picture of the way the Romans looted cities is thus most likely an idealized version of real-

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Plb. 10.15–16. Walbank (1967) 217, argues that the distribution of plunder to the soldiers in situ seemed to have been the most common way of disposing of it. However, he admits that sharing the spoils in an equitable fashion must have been awkward. Liv. 37.32.11–13: “With such shouts, as if they had received a signal from the praetor, they rushed off in every direction to plunder the city. Aemilius at first opposed and tried to recall them, saying that captured, not surrendered, cities were plundered and that even so in these cases the decision rested with the commander, not the soldiers.” (Ab hac uoce, uelut signo a praetore dato, ad diripiendam urbem passim discurrunt. Aemilius primo resistere et reuocare, dicendo captas, non deditas, diripi urbes, et in iis tamen imperatoris, non militum, arbitrium esse). Liv. 38.23.2–4, 38.27.3–5. Ziółkowski (1993) 87–90.

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ity. The evidence suggests that in some cases, it was a matter of first come, first served. Perhaps Polybius wanted to emphasize the organized character of the sack of Carthago Nova in order to further idealize Scipio, just like his depiction as a virtuous man when he refused to accept an attractive young woman offered to him by his men.8 So, if Polybius gives an idealized picture of looting in which everyone obtains an equal share of plunder, what trends can we discern from an analysis of the other available sources? III Plunder: Precious Metal, Weapons, Prisoners and Cash Distributions As demonstrated by the thorough study of Coudry, the Romans had some regular habits concerning the allocation of certain categories of plunder. First of all, precious metal was usually taken over by the state. For example, after a victory over the Umbrians and Etruscans in 310, the consul ordered all gold and silver to be brought to him.9 Roman generals seem to have followed this rule whenever important state treasuries, deposits of money or exquisite works of art were known to exist, which is attested by several careful precautions to keep the soldiers away from them. For example, in 212, shortly after the Romans entered Syracuse, the commander Marcellus sounded the recall and sent his quaestor with a carefully selected unit to prevent the royal treasures from being plundered by the soldiers.10 The following year, Capuan senators were ordered to bring their gold and silver to the quaestor after the capture of their city.11 Similarly, in 168 ­Aemilius Paullus gave orders for the Macedonian royal treasure to be handed directly to his quaestors.12 Furthermore, before letting his soldiers pillage Epirus in 167, he had all the gold and silver removed from the targeted cities.13 Scipio Aemilianus, after the fall of Carthage, let his soldiers pillage for some days all that was not gold, silver and offerings.14 The fact that generals often took personal control of treasuries and comparable items of great value implies that their soldiers had to be content with common goods and direct plunder, some of which could nevertheless be valuable. Two other important sources of profit resulting from war were captives and captured weaponry. Prisoners of war were most often sold into slavery for the benefit of the aerarium.15 For instance, when the camp of Hanno was taken after the battle of Beneventum in 214, prisoners were not given to the soldiers and were thus presumably sold by the 8 Plb. 10.19.6. 9 Liv. 9.37.10. 10 Liv. 25.30.12, 31. 8–9; Plut. Marc. 19.7. 11 Liv. 26.14.8. 12 Plb. 18.35.4–5; Liv. 44.46.6; Plut. Aem. 28.10.11. 13 Liv. 45.34.2–4; Plut. Aem. 29.2.5. 14 App. Pun. 133. See also, Liv. 9.37.10, 26.49.9–10; Plb. 10.15.19; App. Hisp. 23; Plut. Fab. 22.4–6. 15 Coudry (2009b) 23–25, esp. 24: “Les textes relatifs aux captifs indiquent toujours clairement qu’ils sont distingués du butin matériel […]”. Also: Plaut. Bacch. 1070–1075.

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state for the benefit of the public treasury.16 In 208 Scipio had the Africans captured at the battle of Baecula in Spain sold as slaves by his quaestor.17 In 204, during the siege of Utica, he distributed some of the plunder to his men, but sent the most valuable spoils to Rome.18 In 210, after capturing Agrigentum, Laevinus enslaved the inhabitants, sold the plunder and sent all the money to Rome.19 The selling of prisoners could be quite lucrative: those captured after the battle of the Metaurus were sold for a total sum of 300 talents, that was deposited in the public treasury.20 The weaponry collected from the defeated party was usually either burned or sent to Rome. For example, the arms and armour taken from the Gauls at Telamon in 225 were sent to Rome. After the battle of Pydna, Aemilius Paullus sent the most valuable weapons to Rome and burned the rest. Scipio Aemilianus did the same after the capture of Carthage.21 That being said, there are some cases in which the sale of prisoners could benefit the soldiers.22 Additionally, a passage from Aulus Gellius states that, along with precious metal, during the Republican period expensive objects were supposed to be brought to the general or his deputy.23 Furthermore, during the Third Punic War, Scipio Aemilianus had to intervene to put an end to unauthorized plunder expeditions. He also expelled camp followers and forced them to sell the plunder they had acquired. This was over16 17 18 19 20

Liv. 24.16.5. Plb. 10.39.9; 40.1; Liv. 27.19.2. Plb. 14.7.2–3. Liv. 26.40.13. Liv. 27.19.2, 24.16.5; Plb. 11.3.2. Same practice: Plaut. Bacch. 1075; Capt. 110–111; Liv. 10.20.15–16, 10.31.3–4, 23.37.13, 27.49.6; App. Hisp. 68; 98; Sall. Iug. 91.7; Zon. 8.11. See also the exhaustive table in Coudry (2009b) 65–71. 21 Plb. 2.31.3–5; Liv. 45.33.1–2; App. Pun. 133. 22 Liv. 38.23.10; App. Syr. 42; Inscr. Ital. 13.3.69, line 17. 23 Gell. NA 16.4.2: “Also in the fifth book of the same Cincius On Military Science we read the following: “When a levy was made in ancient times and soldiers were enrolled, the tribune of the soldiers compelled them to take an oath in the following words dictated by the magistrate: ‘In the army of the consuls Gaius Laelius, son of Gaius, and Lucius Cornelius, son of Publius, and for ten miles around it, you will not with malice aforethought commit a theft, either alone or with others, of more than the value of a silver sesterce in any one day. And except for one spear, a spear shaft, wood, fruit, fodder, a bladder, a purse and a torch, if you find or carry off anything there which is not your own and is worth more than one silver sesterce, you will bring it to the consul Gaius Laelius, son of Gaius, or to the consul Lucius Cornelius, son of Publius, or to whomsoever either of them shall appoint, or you will make known within the next three days whatever you have found or wrongfully carried off, or you will restore it to him whom you suppose to be its rightful owner, as you wish to do what is right’.” (Item in libro eiusdem Cincii De Re Militari quinto ita scriptum est: Cum dilectus antiquitus fieret et milites scriberentur, iusiurandum eos tribunus militaris adigebat in verba haec (magistratus verba): ‘C. Laelii C. fili consulis, L. Cornelii P. fili consulis in exercitu, decemque milia passuum prope, furtum non facies dolo malo solus neque cum pluribus pluris nummi argentei in dies singulos; extraque hastam, hastile, ligna, poma, pabulum, utrem, follem, faculam si quid ibi inveneris sustulerisve quod tuum non erit, quod pluris nummi argentei erit, uti tu ad C. Laelium C. filium consulem Luciumve Cornelium P. filium sive quem ad tuter eorum iusserit proferes, aut profitebere in triduo proximo quidquid inveneris sustulerisve dolo malo, aut domino suo, cuium id censebis esse, reddes, uti quod rectum factum esse voles).

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seen by Aemilianus himself and his quaestor, so the money was most likely reserved for the public treasury.24 This supports the general idea that plunder was normally supervised and that soldiers were not free to acquire whatever they wanted. Lastly, the expressions sub hasta and sub corona are sometimes used in relation to the sale of spoils. Sub hasta referred to the sale of plunder, sub corona generally meant the selling of prisoners, both for the benefit of the aerarium.25 There are however some instances when the soldiers received some money.26 We may conclude that soldiers were normally not allowed to profit from silver, gold, prisoners and weapons. The sources are vague and imprecise when it comes to the soldiers’ share of plunder and use expressions such as magna praeda, praeda ingens, tanta praeda, λάφυρα and λεία.27 The sources often only mention that plunder on the battlefield itself was left to the soldiers.28 However, in light of the frequent references to weapons and prisoners not given to the soldiers, I would argue that these two categories of war spoils were excluded from what was normally attributed to the soldiers on the battlefield. Of course, all of this does not mean that soldiers did not sometimes acquire some weapons for themselves. However, it is likely that in captured cities and camps as well as on battlefields, soldiers usually had to be content with various less valuable items, for example cooking utensils, farming implements, food, and so on.29 On campaign, soldiers would presumably prefer to sell their share of plunder to merchants rather than carry large and cumbersome objects. The presence of such traders following armies is frequently attested in the sources.30 However, an abundance of plunder could sometimes lead to a drop in local prices. This is what happened to Lucullus’ army in 74, when an ox could be purchased for a single drachma and other spoils had no value whatsoever.31 24 App. Pun. 115–116. 25 Welwei (2000) 12–14; Talamanca (1954) 35–251; see Fest. p. 72 Th. (hastae subiciebant ea, quae publice venundabant, quia signum praecipuum est hasta); sub hasta: Liv. 4.29.4, 4.53.10, 23.32.14–15, 23.37.13; sub corona: Liv. 5.22.1. 26 Liv. 5.16.7; see Jakab (1997) 39–40. See also the contribution of García Morcillo in this volume for the meaning of sub hasta and sub corona. 27 Coudry (2009b) 26: “Les textes qui évoquent l’affectation du butin aux soldats précisent rarement que la totalité du butin leur revient: doit-on supposer que lorsque cette précision ne figure pas, il en va autrement?”; 28: “Sur la part laissée aux soldats, les textes sont imprécis: non seulement comme on l’a vu plus haut ils ne détaillent pas la composition de ce butin, ce qui pourrait s’expliquer par sa nature nécessairement hétérogène, mais ils sont tout aussi vagues sur sa quantité; magna praeda, tanta praeda, et surtout praeda ingens sont les expressions couramment employées, cette dernière revenant avec une régularité frappante (plus de la moitié des occurrences).” 28 All the plunder left to the soldiers (whether this means prisoners as well is uncertain): Liv. 7.16.3–4, 7.24.9, 7.37.17, 8.29.14, 9.31.5, 9.42.5, 10.17.6–7, 10.17.8–9, 10.17.10, 10.19.22, 10.45.14, 24.39.7, 27.1.2, 30.7.2, 31.27.4, 40.16.9, 41.11.8; Plb. 3.76.13, 14.7.2; App. Hisp. 57. 29 Coudry (2009b) 35–6 with sources; 67–70. 30 Liv. 10.17.5–7; Plb. 14.7.2–3; App. Hisp. 85; Sall. Iug. 44.5; Caes. BGall. 1.39.1, 2.15, 4.3.3, 4.5, 4.20. On merchants following armies, see García Morcillo in this volume. 31 Plut. Luc. 14.1.

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It is possible to be more precise with regard to a procedure that is better documented: that of cash handouts after campaigns. There is indeed good evidence from the third century onwards for the practice of giving money to soldiers after victorious expeditions.32 There was no rule set in stone ordering generals to hand out a given proportion of what the campaign yielded; in fact, quarrels about the attribution of plunder are attested throughout the Republic. Although the amounts of cash handed out from year to year are irregular, most of these handouts do not exceed ca. 25 denarii (see Table 1). To be sure, certain campaigns could be very lucrative, such as the victory against King Perseus in the third Macedonian War when soldiers were presented with rewards several times superior to any previously attested.33 However, other campaigns proved quite unprofitable. For example, Scipio Aemilianus’ men received only seven denarii after the long and hard siege of Numantia.34 Similarly, the soldiers who campaigned in Gaul in 197 also received seven denarii (see Table 1).35 Table 1 Donatives 201–132, in denarii Year

Infantrymen

Centurions

Cavalrymen

Source and location

201

40

n/a

n/a

Livy 30.3 Africa

200

12

n/a

n/a

Livy 31.20.7 Spain

197

7

14

21

Livy 33.23.7 Gaul

196

8

24

24

Livy 33.37.11 Gaul

194

27

54

81

Livy 34.46.2 Spain

194

25

50

75

Livy 34.52.4 Macedon

191

12,5

25

37,5

Livy 36.40.12 Gaul

189

25

50

75

Livy 37.59.3 Asia

187

25

50

75

Livy 39.5.14 Greece

187

42

84

123

Livy 39.7.1 Asia (+ double stipendium)

181

30

n/a

n/a

Livy 40.34.7 Liguria

180

50

100

150

Livy 40.43.5 Spain

32

Tarpin (2000) 370: “Enfin, et c’est la solution la plus classique, les soldats reçoivent d’ordinaire une gratification à l’issue du triomphe. Importante lorsque le général tient à s’attacher ses troupes, elle est plus maigre lorsque le général est vertueux et intéressé au bien de l’État, ou vindicatif comme Paul-Émile, qui cumule les deux caractéristiques. L’importance de la solde est déterminée par le général. Mais le triomphe est justement un moment où l’on peut saisir à quel point les soldats sont éloignés des prises précieuses, puisque, dans le défilé, elles figurent à l’avant du cortège, alors qu’ils sont eux, placés derrière le triomphateur.” 33 Liv. 45.34.5, 45.40.5. 34 Plin. HN 33.141. 35 Liv. 33.23.7.

Plunder, Common Soldiers, and Military Service in the Third and Second Centuries BCE

Year

Infantrymen

Centurions

Cavalrymen

Source and location

179

30

60

90

Livy 40.59.2 Liguria

178

25

50

75

Livy 47.7.1 Spain

177

15

30

45

Livy 41.13.6 Liguria

167

200

n/a

400

Livy 45.34.5 Epirus

167

100

200

300

Livy 45.40.5 Macedon

167

45

90

135

Livy 45.43.7 Illyria

132

7

n/a

n/a

Plin. HN 33.141 Numantia

361

This irregularity in rewards reflects the various enemies the Romans fought who were not all as rich as Macedon. Not every victory at war brought huge amounts of money to the Roman treasury and to the soldiers. Indeed, as Rosenstein has shown, the Romans actually waged many wars that came at a net loss.36 What did a donative of, say, 25 denarii mean for a Roman soldier? How attractive was it in terms of the purchasing power it procured? Polybius mentions that in his own time a medimnos (52 litres) of wheat cost four obols (two thirds of a denarius) in Cisalpine Gaul and nine obols (one and a third of a denarius) in Lusitania. A gift of 25 denarii would thus be enough to buy about two tons of wheat, more than enough for the annual needs of a family. Polybius also gives the price of two obols (a third of a denarius) for a metretes (39 litres) of cheap wine in Cisalpine Gaul and a drachma (equal to a denarius) for the same amount of wine in Lusitania.37 Although this led Tarpin to write that a soldier could get spectacularly drunk without spending much of such a reward, I would like to add a few comments to that.38 First, these prices are from regions which Polybius labels as being exceptionally fertile. They would therefore presumably be lower than in less productive or more remote regions. Moreover, Cicero provides the figure of three or four sestertii for a modius of wheat (8.73 litres) in Sicily, a region notorious for the grain tithe it provided to Rome.39 At three sestertii for a modius, the price for a medimnos would rise to 4.5 denarii, much more expensive than that of Polybius. Of course, these are not standard prices applied everywhere in the Roman world, but they do give an idea of scale.

36 37 38 39

Rosenstein (2016a); see also Taylor (2017) 143–180. Plb. 2.15.1; 34.8.7–8. Tarpin (2013) 79: “Le soldat vainqueur pouvait donc s’offrir une cuite d’anthologie sans vraiment entamer son pécule …”. Cic. 2 Verr. 3.163, 188–189.

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IV Stipendium and Deductions Polybius records that soldiers were paid two obols a day. The simplest and most plausible explanation is that Polybius translated denarius by drachma for his Greek audience and that he meant a third of a denarius when he wrote two obols.40 This daily pay meant an annual total of about 120 denarii.41 Cicero claims that the maximum wage for manual labour in his time was twelve asses a day (1.2 denarius/drachma).42 An unskilled worker in Eleusis in 329 was paid one and a half drachma a day. For further comparison, during the Peloponnesian War Athenian hoplites and even rowers were paid one drachma a day.43 Most modern historians see the stipendium as quite low and argue that the pay in itself would only have been an incentive to join the army for very poor citizens. Rather, we should understand the stipendium as a contribution to the expenses of military service and not a salary for a trade.44 The stipendium of the soldiers was financed by the tributum, a contribution paid by all assidui according to their wealth and adjusted according to the size of the armies mobilized each year.45 The sources occasionally mention that payments of the stipendium were delayed, which could lead to unrest among soldiers.46 For example, in 206 some of Scipio’s men revolted because they did not receive their pay.47 Roman soldiers in the Republic were expected to provide their own equipment according to their census rating.48 The state could provide them with additional weapons if they needed them on campaign, but this was deducted from their already meagre stipendium, along with expenses for food and clothes.49 If Cicero’s figure of three to four sestertii per modius of wheat is applied to the rations given by Polybius, then deduc40 Thomsen (1973) 201; Nicolet (1976a) 157; Crawford (1985) 146; Rathbone (2007) 159. 41 Plb. 6.39.12. 42 Cic. Rosc. 10.28: “For those limbs could not earn by themselves more than twelve asses.” (illa membra merere per se non amplius poterant duodecim aeris). 43 Thuc. 3.17.3; 6.31.3. 44 Harmand (1967) 264; (1969) 63; Brunt (1971) 411; Gabba (1976) 7; Nicolet (1976a) 158–159: “Il est certain que la solde, au IIe et au Ier siècle, ne peut pas être considérée comme un attrait, ni même comme une compensation sérieuse pour un service prolongé”; Boren (1983) 445: “The stipendium militum alone was not a living wage. It seems to us surprising that the sources record no general demand for an increase in the stipendium. It reminds us that even yet the pay was intended to be minimal; the “fringe” benefits, along with land on discharge, constituted – or was expected to constitute – more in real pay than the stipendium”. See De Ligt (2004) 743; Scheidel (2007) 330, argues that the stipendium might have had greater purchasing power for food in peripheral regions, but this does not take into account the cost of weapons, which would be purchased beforehand. Cadiou (2008) 508: “Il est donc probable que le stipendium ne représentait pas en soi un attrait suffisant, ni même une compensation sérieuse à un service prolongé.” 45 Liv. 1.42. See Nicolet (1976b) 3–19. 46 Plb. 21.28.5; Liv. 28.29.2; Cic. ad Quint. fr. 1.1.5. 47 Liv. 24.8; Plb. 11.28.3; App. Iber. 7.34.137; Dio Cass. 16; Zonaras 9.10. 48 Plb. 6.22–23. Cosme (2007) 242–243. 49 Plb. 6.39.15: τοῖς δὲ Ῥωμαίοις τοῦ τε σίτου καὶ τῆς ἐσθῆτος, κἄν τινος ὅπλου προσδεηθῶσι, πάντων τούτων ὁ ταμίας τὴν τεταγμένην τιμὴν ἐκ τῶν ὀψωνίων ὑπολογίζεται. Also: Kromayer & Veith (1928) 329; Harmand (1967) 195.

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tions for food would amount to around 36 to 48 denarii.50 Moreover, Polybius provides no information concerning rations of other necessary foodstuffs, such as wine, meat and olive oil, that were more expansive than wheat.51 It is plausible that these were also provided against deductions on pay or bought by soldiers from merchants following the armies. Deductions for clothes are harder to assess because of the paucity of the sources. Cato the Elder claimed that his clothes and shoes cost him no more than 100 denarii.52 Cato’s alleged frugality is well known, but he was still an aristocrat; common people’s clothes were presumably much cheaper. The most expensive items a soldier needed were weapons. Unfortunately, the cost of Roman weapons is not attested for the middle Republic and it is quite difficult to try to propose an ‘average’ price for a legionary panoply. However, data from the Hellenistic world as well as the early empire tend to indicate that weapons and armour were not cheap.53 It is true that certain types of armour from the imperial period, such as segmented or scale armour, were more elaborate than the cheapest Republican armour such as the ‘heart protector’ described by Polybius.54 There was perhaps the possibility of borrowing weapons or acquiring a second-hand kit. The sources do not allow us to calculate with precision the sums deducted from the soldier’s stipendium for arms and armour, since we do not know how frequently items such as swords or shields had to be replaced. On the other hand, javelins probably needed to be replaced more frequently, since they could not always be recovered after being discharged. Thus, it is generally believed that deductions for food and clothing plus additional amounts for weapons damaged or lost would take up most of the stipendium.55 It is also probable that repairs to shields and other pieces of equipment were deducted from the salary, perhaps with a fixed instalment. I therefore think it reasonable to conclude that the soldiers of the Republic were to a large extent dependent on plunder and cash distributions for financial gain, rather than on their stipendium.56 50 Plb. 6.39.13. Four modii/month × 12 × 3 or 4 sestertii= 36 or 48 denarii per year. 51 On wine and oil: Frank (1933) 193, with sources. See also Taylor (2017) 150. 52 Plut. Cat. Ma. 4.4. 53 Pritchett (1956) 307, lists the following figures from I. G., XII, 5, 6474: Bow (toxon): 7 dr. (line 28); bow and quiver (pharetra): 15 dr. (line 28); spearhead (loche): 5 3’/3 ob. (line 30); staff pole (kontos): 2 dr. (line 31); shield: 20 dr. (line 31). For Roman imperial era weapons, see P.Gen.Lat. 1 = Fink (1971) 68. The interpretation of this papyrus is controversial. Inter alia the fact that both soldiers have the tria nomina raises the question as to whether they were citizens serving in an auxiliary unit or mounted legionaries. See the discussion in Fink (1971) 243–246 and in Boren (1983) 452–3; Grenfell et al. (1900) 105, col II, 18; CPL 189; P. Columbia inv. 325. 54 Plb. 6.23.14. On armour and weapons, see Feugère (1997); Bishop & Coulston (2006). 55 Nicolet (1976a) 158: “Mais il ne faut pas oublier que la solde n’est en rien assimilable à un salaire: dans l’armée censitaire, le citoyen doit, en somme, servir à ses dépens; il est supposé avoir un capi­ tal et de quoi vivre par ailleurs. La solde est une indemnité, destinée à couvrir sa subsistance et peut-être son équipement”; (1977) 439. 56 Schneider (1977) 53: “In den letzten zwei Jahrhunderten der römischen Republik war der Soldat von der Beute abhängig, d. h. von der Generosität der Feldherr, wollte er finanziell nicht zu sehr geschädigt aus dem Krieg zurückkehren.”

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V Plunder, Military Service and Roman Society The previous discussion stressed that while Polybius’ model of equal distribution of plunder was simplified and probably idealized, the Romans nonetheless followed certain procedures for the allocation of plunder. Generals were as careful as they could to secure treasuries and the most lucrative items for the benefit of the aerarium. This was done perhaps not only with the intention of enriching themselves or the public treasury, but also as a result of the high cost of war. This meant that generals probably felt some pressure to return significant sums to the aerarium to make up for war expenditure.57 Indeed, plunder brought back to the treasury was often the only way to recoup what the Roman state had spent for war, even if this was not always enough.58 I do not wish to reopen the debate on the meaning of spolia, manubiae and praeda, but I think it fair to suppose that any general causing the Republic to lose money because of excessive generosity towards the soldiers would have had a hard time trying to justify his conduct to the Senate. During the much-debated disputes between the Scipiones and their opponents concerning the settlement with Antiochus III, Scipio Asiaticus made the point that he should not have to answer about his handling of a specific amount of money, since he had brought in a lot more to the treasury.59 Although this case does not concern the allocation of plunder to soldiers, it emphasizes that a general’s duty should be to bring money to the aerarium.60 The pressure to return money to the treasury decreased temporarily after the victory over Macedon in 167 and the suspension of tributum, which meant that wars were no longer financed by the tax­payers’ money.61 However, the gains of 167 were quickly spent: in 157 the Roman treasury only held some 25 million denarii, despite Paullus’ deposit of 30 million denarii in 167.62 This means that generals most likely faced even more pressure than before to return loot to the treasury, since the tributum was not levied again until 43.63 In addition to the pressure of financing the war effort with loot after the suspension of tributum, Roman generals also had to preserve the socio-economic hierarchy of society. The fear that soldiers would become excessively rich if they had access to large sums of cash probably helps to explain why Roman generals tried to secure important treasuries without letting the soldiers access them. Since the Republic was a society where political participation and social prestige were measured by a property qualification, allowing thousands of men to take what they wanted could have altered the social order in society. Throughout the Republic, the Roman elite was concerned with the 57 Rosenstein (2011) 144. 58 Rosenstein (2016a); Taylor (2017) 143–180. 59 Plb. 23.14; Liv. 38.50–53, 59; Gell. NA 4.18; 6.19. 60 Coudry (2009b) 29–31. 61 Cic. Off. 2.76; Plin. HN 33.56; Val. Max. 4.3.8; Plut. Aem. 38.1. See Rosenstein (2011) 149. 62 Plin. HN 33.55; Liv. 45.40.1. See Rosenstein (2011) 149–150. 63 Cic. Fam. 12.30.

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cohesion of its class on a social, economic and political level.64 An influx of nouveaux riches was precisely the kind of phenomenon the nobility wanted to avoid, in order to ensure the socio-economic stability of its class and of Roman society.65 The supervision of plunder operations, the obligation to bring to the commander precious objects as well as the prohibition of personal plundering expeditions, can of course all be explained by reasons of military discipline and efficiency. However, this also makes clear that soldiers were not expected to loot as private individuals but rather as members of a community. Some objects could obviously be hidden for personal benefits by the soldiers and it was sometimes outright impossible to restrain them. Yet, I would argue that the aim of Roman looting practice was to ensure that the treasury would profit from war more than the soldiers, especially after 167. To be sure, soldiers could sometimes profit from warfare when rich enemies were defeated. However, spectacular triumphs such as those over Macedon or Carthage should not make us forget that soldiers rarely received rewards on the scale of those given on such occasions. Most campaigns only brought modest sums to the soldiers, often less than what was deducted from their pay for food, weapons et cetera. Moreover, soldiers had no way to predict if they would make money in any given war; deductions from their pay were predictable, what could be plundered was not. That being said, the system worked. Yet, I believe modern discussions on the willingness of Roman citizens to serve in the military have been dominated by the idea of material benefits at the expense of other, equally significant reasons.66 First, military service represented perhaps the most acclaimed way for citizens to express their virtus, as well as the most esteemed source of social prestige. Spoils taken from the enemy were notably displayed to celebrate one’s military achievements.67 Second, as demonstrated by Rosenstein, military service often removed unnecessary labour from small farms, at the same time providing sustenance and employment for unmarried young men.68 Third, since military glory was highly regarded in Roman society, trying to avoid service was considered shameful and also potentially dangerous. Recruits not answering the call to the levy risked facing charges of desertion, which was punished by the death penalty.69 Despite the fact that there was no state police, 64 65

66 67 68 69

On the establishment and evolution of the Roman nobility, see Hölkeskamp (1987); Beck (2005a). Liou-Gille (1992) 169–170: “Par ailleurs, la crainte avouée du patriciat, c’est que, si la répartition du butin n’est pas contrôlée, l’ordre social n’en soit affecté. En effet, la société romaine est une société censitaire, dont la hiérarchie repose sur l’évaluation de la fortune. Si les citoyens sont lâchés sans freins sur leur proie, ils peuvent s’enrichir brutalement et leur répartition dans les différentes ­classes en sera bouleversée; les conséquences de ces transformations sont imprévisibles, mais assurément très graves.” Although Liou-Gille refers to the patriciat of early Republican Rome and not to the later patrician-plebeian nobility, the argument is still valid for the middle Republic. Cadiou (2009b) 170. Plb. 6.39.10–11; Rawson (1990) 158–173; Cadiou (2018) 409–410. Rosenstein (2004) 26–106. Liv. 3.69.7; Plb. 1.17.11. On desertion in the Republic, see Wolff (2009).

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the combination of fear, the social importance attached to military service and the hope of plunder can explain the willingness of Roman citizens to serve throughout the Republican period. Additionally, those who voted for war in the popular assemblies were not the same people making up the legions. In reality, as is well known, the Roman citizens who could travel to Rome to vote represented a minority. Even among those who lived in Rome, only a small number had the time to be involved in politics.70 Moreover, the size of the venue where the comitia centuriata met on the Campus Martius only allowed for a limited number of citizens to assemble. Mouritsen calculated that about one percent of all Roman citizens could participate in popular assemblies.71 This small minority of citizens who attended these assemblies was mostly from Rome and therefore did not represent the citizens who would be levied in case of war, since it is widely acknowledged that levies among the population of Rome were rare.72 In other words, those who voted for war were not the same as those who went to fight it. It would thus be inaccurate to argue that the common citizen-soldiers voted for war because they systematically saw it as a source of profit. Besides, some wars were triggered without any popular consultation, even if the “people” theoretically had to be consulted before declaring war.73 Some generals even started wars on their own initiative. Some of these generals were prosecuted, but others avoided any charge, nor even caused unrest among the senate.74

70 71 72

73 74

Mouritsen (2001) 27–33; 36–7. MacMullen (1980) 454–457; Mouritsen (2001) 19–33. He argues that the comitium could only hold about 3,600 people. Brunt (1988) 253–5; Pina Polo (1996) 10–11: “Im Gegensatz zum demokratischen Athen wurde im republikanischen Rom die aktive Beteiligung der Bürger an der Politik nie gefördet. Nur die angesehensten Bürger waren in der Praxis befugt, Entscheidungen zu treffen, obwohl sich an ihnen theorisch alle beteiligen konnten. Nur die Inhaber von Ämtern, Mitglieder der Elite, waren befähigt, Gesetzeinitiativen einzubringen, und die römischen Bürger konnten in den comitia ledig­ lich mit Ja oder Nein auf Gesetzesvorschlag des Magistraten antworten, ohne eine Abänderung oder Ergänzung einer rogatio herbeiführen zu dürfen.” Mouritsen (2001) 16: “The small scale of the popular political institutions meant that they quite literally, represented the few rather than the many. There was a marked contrast between the “democratic” potential of these institutions and their limited format, which in reality excluded the masses they formally represented.” Morstein-Marx (2004) 120–121: “[…] orators speak to whatever contional audience has assembled before them as if it were identical to populus Romanus and thus rhetorically transform their continually changing, proportionally negligible, and, as we shall see, self-selected audiences into the citizen body of the Republic”. Plb. 6.14.10; Liv. 38.45.5–7, 41.7.7–8; Cic. Pis. 50; Sall. Cat. 29.2. Undisputed: Flamininus in Boeotia in 196: Liv. 33.29.8. Disputed: Liv. 41.7.7–8. The Galatian campaign of Cn. Manlius Vulso provoked some discontent (Liv. 38.45.6) despite the fact that the Senate had anticipated the matter: Liv. 37.51.10. See also: Rich (1976) 13–17; Eckstein (1987). Eckstein (1987) 319–322 argues that it was often expected of generals to make crucial decisions without informing the senate for reasons of time and efficiency, especially in remote areas.

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Finally, it is worth remembering that even though there was no widespread resistance to military service in the Republic, occasional outbreaks of unrest concerning the levy and service did occur.75 Despite its social importance and the occasional financial benefits it could bring, military service was still a constraining and demanding duty. Citizens therefore expressed their dissatisfaction concerning recruitment, rewards and the number of campaigns in which they served, when they thought they were being abused by magistrates.76 For example, Paullus’ soldiers famously complained about their general’s gifts after the systematic sack of Epirus.77 According to Livy, they received 200 denarii, plus another 100 denarii at the triumph, a reward far more lavish than any previously attested.78 However, according to Plutarch, the soldiers received a mere 11 denarii, causing much discontent in the army.79 Although Livy and Plutarch differ significantly on the amount of the reward, both accounts agree on the dissatisfaction caused by it. The different figures could of course be explained by an error in the manuscript tradition. Whatever the cause for the discrepancy, Plutarch’s figure of 11 denarii is hard to believe, given the magnitude of the loot captured in Macedon, Livy’s figure seems more preferable. In my view, Paullus probably tried to achieve the difficult balance of satisfying the soldiers and the officers with decent cash rewards, while also making his fellow senators happy by bringing substantial amounts of money to the treasury. It seems that despite the high value of the reward granted by Paullus to the army, in comparison to those attested earlier, the soldiers still thought it was not an adequate compensation in relation to all the wealth that had been captured. Indeed, the issue of plunder allocation continued to be a matter of debate throughout the Republic.80

75 Liv. 24.18.7–8, 27.11.14–15, 31.8.6, 32.3.2–7, 43.14.2–6, 43.15.1; Per. 48; Plb. 35.4, Oros. 4.21.1. 76 Cadiou (2002) 76–90; (2009a) 30. 77 Liv. 45.35.5–9, 45.47.1. 78 Liv. 45.34.5, 45.40.5. 79 Plut. Aem. 29.5: “And yet from all this destruction and utter ruin each soldier received no more than eleven drachmas as his share, and all men shuddered at the issue of the war, when the division of a whole nation’s substance resulted in so slight a gain and profit for each soldier” (γενέσθαι δ᾿ ἀπὸ τοσαύτης φθορᾶς καὶ πανωλεθρίας ἑκάστῳ στρατιώτῃ τὴν δόσιν οὐ μεῖζον ἕνδεκα δραχμῶν, φρῖξαι δὲ πάντας ἀνθρώπους τὸ τοῦ πολέμου τέλος, εἰς μικρὸν οὕτω τὸ καθ᾿ ἕκαστον λῆμμα καὶ κέρδος ἔθνους ὅλου κατακερματισθέντος). 80 Coudry (2009b) 50: “Tout au long de la République le partage du butin est demeuré un enjeu mettant aux prises trois destinataires concurrents, les soldats, le peuple romain, et le général. Jamais ne s’est établi un consensus sur la quotité revenant à chacun. On cherche en vain les indices d’une norme en la matière – tout comme on ne parvient pas à identifier avec certitude un “droit du triomphe”.”

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VI Conclusion In summary, this analysis shows that military service in the middle Republic was not as systematically financially profitable for Rome’s assidui as is sometimes claimed.81 Soldiers could often only plunder what was left after their general had handed over all the precious metal and other valuables to his quaestors. Moreover, nothing could guarantee the soldiers a specific sum in donatives, as the amount was left to the general’s discretion; in any case, even the most generous general could not give what he did not possess.82 Sometimes gifts of money made for decent benefits, as after the victory over Macedon, but they could also prove to be negligible. In certain campaigns, the soldiers gained almost nothing. In short, in most cases profits from war were unpredictable and inconstant for Roman soldiers.83 Nevertheless, material gain was not the only reason for showing up to the levy. For example, Polybius emphasizes the system of rewards and gifts designed to entice young men to show bravery. He also stresses the importance of military excellence in Roman society.84 Military service in the middle Republic was not a trade that one chose; it was a required duty that could bring material benefits, although this was not always the case. The motives that drove Rome and its citizens to go to war are complex and reducing them to greed is obviously too simplistic. A discussion on such motives needs to include other relevant factors, such as the importance attached to military service, the socio-economic organization of Roman society, as well as actual practice in the allocation of spoils. In my view, spoils were a welcome bonus for soldiers, but they alone do not explain why the Republican military system worked, otherwise we would hear of recruitment problems for campaigns against poorer enemies, an issue the Romans did not face. François Gauthier The University of British Columbia [email protected]

81 82 83 84

Even for the state, wars were not always profitable. Von Ungern-Sternberg (2009) 247–264, argues that it was only during Rome’s eastern expansion that wars became profitable. This was not always the case, see Rosenstein (2016a); Taylor (2017) 143–180. Brunt (1971) 412: “No recruit could foresee what his opportunities might be.” Between 201 and 173 large-scale distributions of land allowed many citizens to be settled in colonies in northern and southern Italy. However, these only accommodated a fraction of all the soldiers who served during that time period. On land distribution, see De Ligt (2012) 152–153, 168. Plb. 6.39.1–10.

Symbolic Dimension of Spoils

The Self-Fashioning of the New Elite Spoils as Representation of Victory* Karl-J. Hölkeskamp I The Politics of Demonstrative Display: Monuments and Memory The emergence of a new patrician-plebeian ruling class in the fourth and third centuries BCE was a complex process characterized by internal and external developments and their partly contingent, but inseparable interdependence. On the one hand, there was the internal integration by a step-by-step admission of plebeian ‘aristocrats’ to roles of power and prominence in the shape of magistracies – especially the consulship and the praetorship, but also the censorship, the development and differentiation of which, their functions and competences, were themselves part and parcel of this process. On the other hand, there was warfare in Italy and the dynamic expansion of Roman territory, which – in combination with the establishment of a complex repertoire of instruments to establish and consolidate hegemony – gained momentum in the seven decades from the Latin War to the outbreak of the First Punic War.1 It was during these wars that plebeian holders of imperium auspiciaque – by their victories on the battlefields all over peninsular Italy – had the chance to compensate for the lack of traditional sacral-legal legitimacy, on which patricians had based their claim to exclusive access to imperium auspiciaque. Achievement in politics and above all in war thus gradually became the one and only criterion of access to, and rank in,

*

1

The following contribution is an extended and annotated version of the paper given at the conference. I should like to thank the organizers and hosts Marian Helm and Saskia Roselaar for the invitation and their generous hospitality, all participants for inspiring discussions, and Sema Karataș, Simon Lentzsch and – as always last but not least – Elke Stein-Hölkeskamp for criticism and suggestions. – Another version was published in Hölkeskamp (2020) 97–113. – All dates are BCE, if not otherwise indicated. Hölkeskamp (1987/2011b) chapter IV 3 and VI; (1993/2004b) passim; Cornell (1989a; 1989b; 1995, chapters 12–15 passim); Staveley (1989) chapter 9; Forsythe (2005) chapters 9–10. Research on ‘Roma medio repubblicana’ has gained considerable momentum: see the relevant contributions in Cifarelli et al. (2019) and D’Alessio et al. (2021) and now Padilla Peralta & Bernard (2022).

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the emerging patricio-plebeian ruling class  – a criterion which was embedded in a new ideology of service to the res publica, the populus Romanus as a whole. On the one hand, they based their status on their imperium and maiestas and the reciprocity of accomplishment and merit, which resulted in a claim to rewards in the shape of honos and honores, dignitas and auctoritas on the other. This ‘meritocratic’ ideology was represented and regularly affirmed by a typical set of strategies and media of public self-fashioning – by performative means such as spectacular triumphs, religious rituals, festivals and games, the unique ritual of the pompa funebris and the whole spectrum of ‘elite movements’ in and out of the city on the one hand2 and by temples, victory monuments, statues and their inscriptions and visual media of all kinds on the other.3 The use of spoils since the Italian wars was part and parcel of this repertoire  – spoils in the sense of spoils in the shape of armour and works of art taken from vanquished enemies and displayed in the politico-sacral landscape of the urbs Roma on the one hand4 as well as spoils in the shape of substantial profits and resources on the other. From the late fourth century onwards, such manubiae were invested in a dynamically differentiated language of power – especially in the shape of a conspicuous surge of monumental building, often combined with dedications of representative and telling pieces of spoils, honorific statues of the founder and other media of memorialization.5

2

3

4

5

See on processions and other ‘civic’ rituals as performative media of self-fashioning in general Hölkeskamp (1987/2011b) chapter V and pp. 318–329; (2004a/2010) 55–60, 123–24; (2006a); (2008/2017a); (2011a/2020); (2014); (2022a) 7–10; Sumi (2005) chapter 1; Flower (2009) 70–75 and Flower (2014); Pina Polo (2011) chapters 1, 2 and passim; Östenberg (2015); and other relevant contributions in Östenberg, Malmberg & Bjørnebye (2015); Latham (2016); Hölscher (2018) 35–40, 52–54, 68–78; Marco Simón (2022). See on the triumph Itgenshorst (2005); Hölkeskamp (2008/2017a) 209–218, 224–227; Hölscher (2006) 37–39; (2019) 241–249; Bastien (2007); Rich (2014), all with further references. On the pompa funebris, see Flower (1996); Hölkeskamp (2004a/2010) 112–115; (2008/2017a) 218–221; Flaig (2003) chapters 3–4; (2015); (2016). Cf. also Meadows & Williams (2001) 40–42, 48–49. Fundamental studies on ‘representative art’, display of spoils, temples, honorific statues etc., on which the following suggestions are based, include Hölscher (1978; 1990; 2001; 2003; 2006; 2015; 2018, 142–146; 2019, chapter III; Pietilä-Castrén (1987); Gruen (1992) chapter 3; Holliday (2002; 2022); Walter (2004) chapter 4; Humm (2009); Papini (2015) 101–111; Davies (2017) chapter 2 and passim, all with further references. Cf. also Hölscher’s important contributions to the theoretical basis and methodological approaches to these aspects of the republican political culture: (1992; 2004; 2015; 2018, 1–13 and passim. Cf. on “political”, public, “civic space(s)” Hölscher (2018) 50–61; (1998); Hölkeskamp (2001/2004) 142–163; (2004a/2010) 61–62, 71–75; (2006b/2020) 121–133; (2008/2017a) 215–218; (2017a/2017b) 95–101; (2022b). On spoils and Greek works of art as spoils, see Gruen (1992) 84–90; ­Galsterer (1994); Hölscher (1994); Davies (2017) 61–65 and passim, with further references. See on the meaning(s) of the concept spolia Biggs (2018) 47–49. Flower (2009) 73. See on honorific statues Hölscher (1978) 324–44; Sehlmeyer (1999; 2000); see also Hölkeskamp (2012/2017a; 2016a/2020; 2016b/2017a).

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The series of temples ex manubiis6 – by (patrician and above all plebeian) consuls and triumphatores (and censors) – apparently began with a sanctuary of Quirinus in Colle Quirinali, which was vowed by the most prominent commander of the First Samnite War, five times consul and credited with no less than three triumphs, L. Papirius Cursor, in his dictatorship in 325.7 This temple was dedicated considerably later, namely by his homonymous son – in the latter’s own first consulship in 293 after his own triumph de Samnitibus, which was later described to have been, by the standards of the time, of unprecedented splendour, particularly with respect to the armour taken from the conquered Samnites and put on display here. Its volume and magnificence was, according to Livy, compared to the spoils taken and displayed all over Rome by Papirius père after his triumph in 310. Moreover, Papirius fils had not only his father’s temple adorned with Samnite spoils, but allegedly also the Forum – which had already received a series of golden Samnite shields which hung at the tabernae novae. And there was enough left of these spoils that colonies and allies could also receive some for the adornment of their temples and public spaces.8 It was about the same time that a series of divinities representing central concepts of the emerging collective ethos of the new patrician-plebeian ruling class began to receive sanctuaries.9 The first temple of this new kind was dedicated to Salus (rei publicae), again in Colle Quirinali – vowed by C. Iunius Bubulcus, probably as plebeian consul for the third time in the year 311, and dedicated by himself as censor in 302.10 Several centuries later, the temple and its decoration were still famous for frescoes by a certain Fabius named Pictor – possibly representing scenes of the battle which earned the founder a triumph over the Samnites. The scenes of fighting, surrender and possibly deditio in fidem on the well-known multiregistered fresco in the tomb of other Fabii may well give us an impression of its contents and the “graphically sophisticated visual codes for intensely detailed narratives”.11 The series was continued during the third cen6

See in general Aberson (1994), Weigel (1998) and recently Russell (2016) 114–120; Davies (2017) 42–56. See also Ziółkowski (1992) 235–261, 307–318; 193–234 on the right to found and dedicate a temple; 265–306 on “topographical aspects”. Cf., however, Orlin (1997) 127–139. 7 Liv. 10.46.7–8 with Oakley (2005b) ad loc.; cf. Ziółkowski (1992) 139–144; Coarelli, in LTUR IV (1999) 185–187. See Itgenshorst (2005) nos. 74, 77, 82. On his distinguished career, see F. Münzer, in: RE 18.2.2 (1949) 1039–51 s. v. Papirius 52, with sources. 8 Liv. 9.40.15–17, 10.39.13–14 and 46.2–5 with Oakley (2005a; 2005b) ad loc.; Plin. HN 7. 213; cf. Itgenshorst (2005) no. 96; Humm (2009) 124; F. Münzer, in: RE 18.2.2 (1949) 1051–1056 s. v. Papirius 53. 9 Cic. Leg. 2.28; see Hölscher (1978) 349–350; Hölkeskamp (1987/2011b) 238–240; McDonnell (2006b) 209–212; Clark (2007) chapter 2 passim, especially 49–69. 10 Liv. 9.43.25, 10.1.9; Cic. Leg. 2.28; see Broughton, MRR on these years; Ziółkowski (1992) 144–148; Coarelli, in LTUR IV (1999) 229–230; Spannagel (2000); Clark (2007) 50–54. 11 Plin. HN 35.19; Val. Max. 8.14.6; Cic. Tusc. 1.4; Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 16.3(6).2. See Kuttner (2014) 365–366 (quotation); Coarelli (1990/1996) 21–31; Holliday (2002) 83–91; Davies (2017) 54–55, and for my interpretation of the fresco Hölkeskamp (2000/2004b) 123–124; (2018b) 723–725. It is unclear whether the painting of cavalrymen – (equites) ferentarii – in the temple of Aesculapius, mentioned by Var. Ling. 7.57, cf. Liv. 10.47.6–7; Val. Max. 1.8.2; Strab. 12.5.3 (C567); Vir. Ill. 22.1–3;

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tury and early second centuries by temples dedicated to Fides, Spes, Honos (extra Portam Collinam), Honos (et Virtus, ad Portam Capenam), Libertas (in Aventino), Mens and Pietas.12 The first couple – namely Fides (populi Romani or publica) in Capitolio and Spes (in Foro Holitorio) – was dedicated by A. Atilius Calatinus, consul 258 and 254, praetor 257, censor 247 and even “primus dictator extra Italiam exercitum duxit” in 249, one of the most successful and prominent plebeian nobiles in the First Punic War, as attested by an inscription on his tomb, which was still well-known by Cicero’s time: “hunc unum plurimae consentiunt gentes/populi primarium fuisse virum”.13 It was already during the 290s, in the Third Samnite War, when Rome’s hegemony in Italy was for the last time seriously challenged, that several temples to divinities guaranteeing fortune on the battlefield and victory followed suit – success in war acknowledged by a triumph had become the quintessential criterion of prominence and exalted rank within the new ruling class.14 The individual qualities of a commander as prerequisite of success on the battlefield, such as virtus and fortitudo, had become key concepts of the ideology of meritocracy, as witnessed, e. g., by the earliest Scipionic elogium on L. Cornelius Scipio ‘Barbatus’, consul 298 and possibly censor 280: “fortis vir sapiensque,/quoius forma virtutei parisuma fuit” and who boasted to have conquered “all of Lucania”.15 The same spirit informs the famous laudatio funebris on L. Caecilius Oros. 3.22.5, is to be dated in the early years of the third century, as Coarelli claims (1990/1996) 32; see Hölscher (1978) 345 with n. 151, and Walter (2004), who prefer a date about 210. See on this genre of paintings in general Hölscher (1978) 344–348, Coarelli (1990/1996) 21–34; Holliday (2002) 17–21, 83–91; Walter (2004) 148–154; Papini (2015) 102, 104–105, who suggests that the description of “mural paintings”, their “very accurate contour lines”, “pleasing mixture of colours” and “florid style” in Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom. 16.3(6).2 may refer to these early paintings and possibly the work of Pictor. 12 Fides: Cic. Nat. D. 2.61, 3.38; Leg. 2.28; see Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 38–44; Ziółkowski (1992) 28– 31; Reusser, in LTUR II (1995) 249–252. Spes: Cic. Leg. 2.28; Tac. Ann. 2.49.2; see Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 41–44; Ziółkowski (1992) 152–154; Coarelli, in LTUR IV (1999) 336–37; Clark (2007) 59– 64. Honos (extra Portam Collinam): Cic. Leg. 2.28; CIL I2 31 = VI 3692 = VI 30913 = ILS 3794 =­ ILLRP 157; see Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 48–51; Ziółkowski (1992) 57–58; Palombi, in LTUR III (1996) 30–31; Clark (2007) 64–66. Honos (et Virtus, ad Portam Capenam): Cic. Nat. D. 2.61, 3.38; Leg. 2.28; Liv. 27.25.7–9, 29.11.13 with 25.40.3; Val. Max. 1.1.8; Plut. Marc. 28.1–2; RGDA 11; see Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 55–58; Ziółkowski (1992) 58–60; Palombi, in LTUR III (1996) 31–33, cf. Spannagel (2000) 244–246; McDonnell (2006b) 212–228; Clark (2007) 67–69; Russell (2016) 130–139; Hölkeskamp (2018b) 721–723. Libertas (in Aventino): Liv. 24.16.19; Paul. Fest. 108 Lindsay s. v. Libertatis templum; see Andreussi, in LTUR III (1996) 144; Clark (2007) 58–59. Mens: Cic. Nat. D. 2.61, 3.38; Leg. 2.28; Liv. 22.9.7–11, 10.10, 23.31.9, 23.32.20; see Reusser, in LTUR III (1996) 240–241; Clark (2007) 66–67. Pietas: Liv. 40.34.4–6; Cic. Leg. 2.28; see Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 85–90; Clark (2007) 29–30. 13 Cic. Sen. 61; Fin. 2.116; cf. Tusc. 1.13 and Broughton, MRR on the individual years. See now Beck (2005a) 229–243, on the Atilii, with further references. 14 See Bastien (2007) chapter VI. 15 CIL I2 6.7 = VI 1284–1285 = ILS 1 = ILLRP 309 and the detailed discussion by Kruschwitz (2002) 32–57, with further references; see also Witzmann (2000) 77–81; McDonnell (2006b) 33–40; ­Etcheto (2012) 225–236. See on the tomb of the Scipios and its function as lieu de mémoire Coarelli (1972/1996) passim; Walter (2004) 112–118; Etcheto (2012) Annexe 4 (209–259); Hölkeskamp (2018a/2020) 200–208, with full references.

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Metellus, hailed as primarius bellator and fortissimus imperator, under whose auspices the greatest deeds were achieved.16 The elogia of the patrician Scipiones as well as the laudatio for the plebeian Metellus indicate the general ideological orientation of the by now established new ruling class and the consensus between patricians and plebeians about the central criterion of high rank and status: achievement in war. The series of sanctuaries revolving around this criterion began with a temple for the goddess of war, Bellona in Circo Flaminio, which was vowed by App. Claudius Caecus of censorial fame, as consul for the second time in 296, during a battle against Etruscans and Samnites and dedicated some years later.17 The temple of Iuppiter Victor in Colle Quirinali was vowed by Q. Fabius Maximus Rullianus, consul for the fifth time in 295 and one of the leading commanders of the war, during the battle at Sentinum, when his colleague P. Decius Mus had been killed after performing a devotio and the fight hung on a knife-edge.18 In yet another moment of duress during the battle of Luceria in 294, which was apparently not exactly a Roman success, the consul M. Atilius Regulus vowed a temple for Iuppiter Stator, that is “the Steadfast”, which was eventually built at the Porta Mugonia.19 In this year, the temple of Victoria in Palatio, which had been vowed by L. Postumius Megellus as aedile, was now dedicated by him as consul for the second time.20 A similar kind of ‘fortune’ was sort of acknowledged by L. Cornelius Scipio, son of Barbatus, consul 259 and censor 258: He celebrated a triumph de Poenis, Sardinia et Corsica and dedicated a temple to the Tempestates extra portam Capenam. He certainly had every reason to thank the ‘goddesses of stormy weather’, as his fleet was nearly destroyed in a storm off the coast of Corsica and the inept commander only got away by the skin of his teeth. Interestingly enough, this dedication was considered important enough to be explicitly mentioned alongside Scipio’s (exaggerated, if not rather dubious) feats in his campaign in Corsica in the inscription on his sarcophagus. Nevertheless this Scipio was – “as most people agree”, according to his epitaph – yet another optimus vir.21

16 17 18 19 20 21

Q. Caecilius L. f. Metellus, ORF4 6 frg. 2 = Plin. HN 7.139–140. Liv. 10.19.17; Ov. Fast. 6.201–204; CIL 6. 40943 (= 31606); 11.1827; Inscr. Ital. 13.3.12 and 79 = ILS 54; see Ziółkowski (1992) 18–19; Viscogliosi, in LTUR I (1993) 190–192; cf. Humm (2005) 43–60; 504–507; Russell (2016) 117–120; Roller (2018) 107–108, 113–115. Liv. 10.29.14; Ov. Fast. 4.621–2; see Broughton, MRR, on the year 295; Ziółkowski (1992) 91–94; Coarelli, in LTUR III (1996) 161. Liv. 10.36.11; Fabius Pictor, FRH 1 F25 = FRomHist 1 F18 (= Liv. 10.37.14); Cic. Leg. 2.28; see Ziółkowski (1992) 87–91; Coarelli, in LTUR III (1996) 155–157. Liv. 10.33.8–9 with Oakley (2005b) ad loc.; see Ziółkowski (1992) 172–179; Pensabene, in LTUR V (1999) 149–150; Clark (2007) 56–58. CIL I2 8.9 = VI 1286–1287 = ILS 2.3 = ILLRP 310; see Kruschwitz (2002) 58–70, with full discussion; Etcheto (2012) 160, 236–41. See on the temple Ov. Fast. 6.193–4; Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 35–38; Ziółkowski (1992) 162–64; idem, in: LTUR V (1999) 26–27, and on the strategies of self-fashioning of the Cornelii Scipiones in general Etcheto (2012) chapter III; Hölkeskamp (2018a/2020).

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Another deity which stood for chance and luck in battle was Fors Fortuna  – the temple located trans Tiberim was explicitly built ex manubiis, vowed and dedicated by Sp. Carvilius Maximus, consul for the first time in 293. However, that was not enough for this successful and self-confident homo novus – he had the bronze armour, breast plates, greaves and helmets, taken as spoils from the Samnites, melted down and commissioned a colossal statue of Jupiter made of this metal, which was put up on the Capi­tol. The statue was so gigantic that it could allegedly be seen from the temple of Jupiter Latiaris on the Alban mount, miles away from Rome – and that was still not enough for this plebeian newcomer: Carvilius had a statue of himself made out of the remnants of the material, put up ostentatiously at the feet of the colossal Jupiter.22 This is an early instance of the central role which the display of spoils came to play in a broadening spectrum of multimedia-based strategies of self-presentation of victorious generals through the perpetuation and immortalization of their triumphs. This fashion was, as it were, complemented by another innovation: the temple of Tellus in Carinis23 – vowed by P. Sempronius Sophus, consul 268, when an earthquake occurred in the thick of the fight in a battle against the Picentes – was adorned with a picta Italia, purposefully commissioned by the dedicator. It remains unclear whether this picta was a kind of map of Italy, now under the sway of Rome, or an allegorical representation. Perhaps it was a representation such as the monument which Ti. Sempronius Gracchus, consul for the first time in 177 and proconsul in 175, had put up in the temple of Mater Matuta in the wake of his triumph over Sardinia: this particular artefact seems to have been a sort of panel, which showed “the shape of the island”, including pictures of battles and sporting an inscription celebrating Gracchus’ victories.24 By this time, similar forms of ‘triumphal’ paintings had become a well-established fashion: Another Ti. Sempronius Graccus – consul in 215 and 213 and grandfather of the aforementioned Gracchus, had a painting of the festivities in Beneventum in the wake of his victory over Carthaginian troops under Hanno displayed in the temple of Libertas in Aventino, commissioned and dedicated by his father.25

22 Plin. HN 34.43; Liv. 10.46.13–15 with Oakley (2005b) ad loc. See on the temple Ziółkowski (1992) 38–39; Coarelli, in LTUR II (2004) 270–271; cf. Orlin (1997) 122–123, 135–136; Humm (2009) 128. 23 Flor. 1.14 (19).2, cf. Frontin. Strat. 1.12.3 (who gives a wrong name of the consul); cf. Broughton, MRR on these years; Ziółkowski (1992) 155–162; Coarelli, in LTUR V (1999) 24–25. 24 Var. RR 1.2.1; Liv. 41.28.8–10. See Hölscher (2006) 40. 25 Liv. 24.16.19; see Hölscher (1978) 344–45; Spannagel (2000) 243–244.

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II The Dynamics of Ostentation: Comparison and Competition But back to the early third century, when triumphs in general and the spoils displayed in the processions and later permanently displayed in or near temples erected ex manubiis seem to have assumed a new level of splendour and ostentation.26 Indeed, Florus’ vivid description of the spectacular triumph which M’. Curius Dentatus, yet another signally successful plebeian newcomer, celebrated over the Samnites and king Pyrrhus of Epirus (and Tarentum) in his second consulship 275 may well be to the point: “Scarcely ever did a fairer and more glorious triumph enter the city. Up to that time the only spoils which you could have seen were the cattle of the Volscians, the flocks of the Sabines, the wagons of the Gauls, the broken arms of the Samnites; now if you looked at captives, there were Molossians, Thessalians, Macedonians, Bruttians, Apulians and Lucanians; if you looked upon the procession, you saw gold, purple statues, pictures and all the luxury of Tarentum”.27 Well, not all of it: when Tarentum was conquered under the command of Q. Fabius Maximus Verrucosus, later of ‘Cunctator’ fame, there still was still much left to plunder to adorn his triumph. Even if Fabius allegedly ordered to leave several colossal statues of their “furious gods” to the Tarentines – among them a gigantic statue of Zeus by the famous Lysippus – he had another masterpiece by the same Lysippus removed to Rome and put up on the Capitol: a naked seated Herakles, five times lifesize; Fabius had his own equestrian statue placed in the immediate vicinity.28 The side effect or spin-off of this suggestive combination consisted in an implicit allusion to the myth of the origins of the gens Fabia, according to which it had been Herakles himself who fathered the first Fabius in a one-nighter with a nymph (or a daughter of Euander) in the foveae near the Tiber.29 This combination of dedicating a spectacular work of (Greek) art with putting up the dedicator’s own honorific statue in the immediate vicinity, especially when visible from a distance, was another innovative step in the spiral of increasing ostentation, which had taken on a new quality only a few years earlier.30 According to Plutarch’s vivid description, the great M. Claudius Marcellus – five times consul, conqueror of

26

Gruen (1992) chapter 3; see for spoils and other ‘representations’ in triumphal processions the detailed study by Östenberg (2009). 27 Flor. 1.13 (18).26–27 (translation E. Seymour Forster). See Hölscher (2006) 37 and (more sceptical) McDonnell (2006a) 73–74. 28 Plin. HN 34.40; Liv. 27.16.7–9; Plut. Fab. 22.8. See Broughton, MRR, Index of Careers; on his triumph Itgenshorst (2005) no. 160, and on his distinguished career F. Münzer, in: RE 6.2 (1909) 1814–1830 s. v. Fabius 116, and now Beck (2005a) 269–301. 29 Plut. Fab. 1.2; Paul.Fest. p. 77 Lindsay s. v. Fovi; Ov. Pont. 3.3.99–100; Fast. 2.237; Sil. Pun. 6.627–636; 7.35; 8.217; Iuv. 8.14; cf. F. Münzer, in: RE 6.2 (1909) 1739–1742 s. v. Fabius; cf. Hölkeskamp (2018b) 733–735 and passim on the strategies of self-fashioning of the Fabii in general, with references. 30 Pape (1975); Waurick (1975); Gruen (1992) 84–86; 94–103; Galsterer (1994) 859; Hölscher (1994) 876–877, and now Walther (2011) 74–76 and passim, with further references.

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Syracuse and Fabius’ formidable rival as leading general of the day31  – had “carried back with him the greater part and the most beautiful of the dedicatory offerings in Syracuse, that they might grace his triumph and adorn his city”. Before this spectacular display of “such elegant and exquisite productions”, “such graceful and subtle art” and “objects that had Hellenic grace, charm and fidelity”, Rome had only been “filled full of barbaric arms and bloody spoils” and “memorials and trophies of triumphs” – indeed, “one might at that time have called Rome, in the language of Pindar, ‘a temenos of much-warring Ares’”. It may or may not be accidental, by the way, that Plutarch quotes the Pythian Ode in which Pindar referred to Syracuse as megalopolis.32 The new and spectacular kind of spoils from Syracuse – among them the whole spectrum of “ornamenta urbis”, statues, artefacts of all kinds in silver and bronze, paintings and a “representation (simulacrum) of conquered Syracuse” as well as two celestial spheres (sphaerae) by Archimedes – was later permanently displayed at the temple of Honos et Virtus, vowed by Marcellus at his legendary victory at Clastidium and dedicated after his death by his homonymous son in 205.33 However, the conquest and thorough plundering of Syracuse, as well as the proud and self-confident Marcellus himself, who was said to have boasted “that he had taught the ignorant Romans to admire and honour the wonderful and beautiful productions of Greece”, seem to have sparked some controversy:34 first of all, Marcellus was denied a proper triumph, although the Senate had previously voted a supplicatio for his feats – and then he was only allowed a simple ovation. The indignant Marcellus therefore celebrated a triumphus in Monte Albano.35 Then he was denied the dedication of a temple by the pontifices, who ruled that a temple with only one cella could not house two deities. Therefore he commissioned a sanctuary of Virtus as a sort of annexe to the temple of Honos.36 Probably, it was not only the new type of spoils – Marcellus was apparently reproached for having “not only men, but even gods led about in his triumphal procession like captives”37 –, but also the sheer extravagance and splendour which For dates, references etc. see Broughton, MRR, Index of Careers, and still F. Münzer, in: RE 3.2 (1899) 2738–2755 s. v. Marcellus 220. Cf. on his extraordinary career now Beck (2005a) 302–327; Flower (2003) and McDonnell (2006b) chapter VII, on the complex tradition about Marcellus, and Hölkeskamp (2021) on his monuments and strategies of self-presentation. 32 Plut. Marc. 21.1–4 (translation B. Perrin, adapted); cf. Pind. Pyth. 2.1. See on Plutarch’s Life of Marcellus (and the synkrisis with Fabius Maximus) Beck (2002). 33 Cic. 2 Verr. 4.121; Nat. D. 2.61; Rep. 1.21; Liv. 25.31.11 and 40.1–3, 26.21.7–8, 29.11.13; Plut. Marc. 28.1; cf. Cic. Tusc. 1.63. 34 Plut. Marc. 21.7. Cf. on the controversy e. g. Liv. 26.26.5–9, 29.1–8, 32.1–3; Plut. Marc. 23.1–11 and already Plb. 9.10.1–13. Cf. Eckstein (1987) 169–177. 35 Liv. 26.21.1–6; Plut. Marc. 22.1–2; Vir. Ill. 45.6. See Itgenshorst (2005) nos. 158 and 159, with further references; McDonnell (2006b) 224–225. 36 Liv. 27.25.7–9; Plut. Marc. 28.2; Val. Max. 1.1.8. Cf. McDonnell (2006b) 219–223. 37 Plut. Marc. 21.6, cf. Liv. 25.40.2: … sacra profanaque omnia …; 26.30.9. Cf. also Liv. 26.34.12: in the case of statues and images, which were brought to Rome after Capua had been recaptured, it was the collegium pontificum which had to decide, what was sacra ac profana and accordingly dealt with. 31

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caused resentment, particularly among his peers in the Senate – including probably the influential Fabius Maximus – who were by the very nature of the fiercely competitive system his rivals for gloria, dignitas and auctoritas.38 Be that as it may, Marcellus and his Syracusan spoils set new standards39 and made the temple of Honos et Virtus a locus oculatissimus and a kind of family shrine as it were, canonized two generations later, when the once again homonymous grandson, consul for the third time in 152, himself praised for “summa virtus, pietas, gloria militaris”, had statues of his famous grandfather, his father and himself put up among the old Marcellus’ “monumenta” at the temple of Honos et Virtus:. These statues sported the proud inscription III MARCELLI NOVIES COS.40 However, the earliest examples of refined works of art, taken away as spoils from vanquished cities to Rome and displayed there as monuments, are dated considerably earlier.41 M. Fulvius Flaccus, consul 264, not only vowed and dedicated a temple of Vortumnus in Aventino after his destruction of Volsinii, in fulfilment of the evocatio of the patron god of the Etruscan League, who had had his fanum there.42 He also had no less than 2000 signa, bronze statues, taken to Rome and displayed at the aforementioned temple of Mater Matuta and Fortuna on a podium, on which inscriptions proudly reported his feat: “M. Folvio(s) Q. f. cosol dedet Volsinio capto”.43 And last but not least, Fulvius had his portrait in triumphal garb put up in ‘his’ temple  – it had just been few years earlier that the already mentioned L. Papirius Cursor, who, after dedicating his father’s temple of Quirinus, had vowed his own temple to Consus (in Aventino) and dedicated this in his second consulship in 272, after his triumph once again over Tarentum, had started this fashion.44 A few years later, the consul of 263 M’. Valerius Maximus Messala was the first, according to the elder Pliny, to have a painting of the victorious battle against the Carthaginians and Hieron of Syracuse displayed at the Curia Hostilia, after this painting had been sported at his triumph “de Poeneis et

However, already in 241, after the sack of Falerii, a statue of Janus with four faces was brought to Rome, where the god received another temple: Serv. Ad Aen. 7.607. 38 Liv. 26.32.4–5. See Gruen (1992) 94–103; Russell (2016) 133–139; Hölkeskamp (2018b) 713–718. Cf. on the rivalry “or, better, hostility” between Fabius and Marcellus: McDonnell (2006a) 79–81; (2006b) 223–228. 39 Liv. 25.40.2: … inde primum initium mirandi Graecarum atrium opera licentiaeque hinc sacra profanaque omnia volgo spoliandi factum est … See McDonnell (2006a) 82–85 and passim; (2006b) 228–235; Papini (2015) 106–107. 40 Cic. Pis. 44; Ascon. In Pis. p. 18 Stangl. See Broughton, MRR, Index of Careers, on these three Marcelli. Cf. McDonnell (2006b) 237; Hölkeskamp (2021). 41 Gruen (1992) 86–94; Galsterer (1994) 858–59. 42 Plin. HN 34.34; cf.  Itgenshorst (2005) No. 126; Ziółkowski (1992) 183–185; Aronen, in LTUR V (1999) 213–214. 43 CIL I2 2.4.2836, p. 861, see Witzmann (2000) 59–60; Humm (2009) 128–129. 44 Festus p. 228 Lindsay s. v. Picta. See Ziółkowski (1992) 24–25; Andreussi, in LTUR I (1993) 321–322; Holliday (2002) 30–33.

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rege Siculorum Hierone”.45 Some generations later, this strategy of self-presentation was complemented and amplified in a particularly extravagant and indeed provocative way. L. Cornelius Scipio Asiaticus not only followed suit and had a similar tabula victoriae suae put up in Capitolio46 after his spectacular triumph “ex Asia de rege Antiocho”, during which “representations” (simulacra) of conquered cities (just like the one in Marcellus’ ovatio, mentioned above) as well as luxury goods of hitherto unseen splendour such as chased silver objects, golden crowns and vases, “Attalic” garments with gold embroidery and bronzen dining couches were shown.47 On top of this, Asiaticus also had a statue of himself put up in this sacral area, in Greek dress and sandals.48 By the beginning of the third century, the upward spiral of ostentation had produced ever new variants. During his campaign in Sicily, Messala had also captured Catane and got hold of a new kind of spoils: a horologium, which Messala had put up on a column near the rostra.49 It was only a few years later, in 260, that the consul C. Duilius as commander of the fleet defeated the Carthaginians at Mylae and was awarded the first triumphus navalis. As had become custom by now, he vowed and dedicated a temple of Ianus on the Forum Holitorium.50 Moreover, he was honoured with a statue, probably placed on top of a column which was adorned with the rostra of conquered ships, on the base of which an inscription enumerated his achievements in a pedantic bookkeeping fashion: He was the first (primus) to perform an exploit at sea, the first to equip warships and train crews, and he captured enemy ships and crews, to wit: one septireme and 30 quinqueremes and triremes, and he sank 13 ships. Spoils included 3,600 (or more) pieces of gold, 100,000 pieces of silver, all in all 2,100,000 in Roman money. Above all, he was again the first to bestow naval spoils on the populus and the first to lead native Carthaginians in his triumph.51

45 Plin. HN 35.22; cf. Cic. Fam. 14.2.2; Vat. 21 and Schol. Bob. p. 147 Stangl. See on his triumph Itgenshorst (2005) no. 127. 46 Liv. 37.59.1–6; 38.59.3; Plin. HN 35.22. 47 Plb. 21.24.16–17; Cic. Prov. Cons. 18; Val. Max. 3.5.1a, 4.1.8, 5.3.2c, 8.1 damn.1; Gell. NA 6.19.3 and 7. See on the splendour of his triumph Plin. HN 33.148, 37.12, cf. 8.196. See Itgenshorst (2005) no. 178, with further references. 48 Cic. Rab. Post. 27; Val. Max. 3.6.2. 49 Varro apud ant. rer. hum. 15.3 Mirsch (= Plin. HN 7.213–214), who has doubts about an alternative version, according to which it had been the aforementioned Papirius Cursor fils who had donated the first horologium; Censorin. Nat. D. 23.7. See Humm (2009) 129. 50 Tac. Ann. 2.49.2. See Pietilä-Castrén (1987) 28–34; Ziółkowski (1992) 61–62; Coarelli, in LTUR III (1996) 90–91; Humm (2009) 125–126. 51 CIL I2 25 = VI 1300 and VI 8.3.1300 Add. = ILS 65 = ILLRP 319; cf. his elogium CIL I2, p. 193, no. XI = 6.31611 = ILS 55 = Inscr. It. 13.3.13; Cic. Sen. 44; Liv. Per. 17; Val. Max. 3.6.4; Plin. HN 34.20; Quint. Inst. 1.7.12; Sen. Brev. 13.3; Sil. Pun. 6.664–666; Eutr. 2.20; Vir. Ill. 38. See Hölscher (1978) 322–323; Wallace-Hadrill (1990) 172; Bleckmann (2002) 116–131; Kondratieff (2004) and especially Beck (2005a) 217–228, on his career. See also Roller (2009) 219–229; (2018) 134–162 on Duilius and his monuments between “exemplarity” and “innovation”, and now Biggs (2018).

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My last example is the temple of Ops Opifera in Capitolio  – probably vowed by L. Caecilius Metellus, whose laudatio was already mentioned above.52 Metellus had an extraordinary career and, just like Duillius, he was awarded special personal privileges, including an honorific statue on the Capitol. He was consul for the first time in 251 and proconsul 250, magister equitum to the dictator Atilius Calatinus 249, consul again in 247, dictator comitiorum habendorum causa 224 and pontifex maximus for more than 20 years until his death in 221. After he had defeated the Carthaginians at Panormus in western Sicily, he celebrated a spectacular triumph – however, the elephants in the procession were not an innovation: these ‘Lucanian oxen’ had already been led through the city in the triumph of Curius Dentatus mentioned above. However, back to the laudatio funebris, according to which he achieved decem maximas res optimasque. These “greatest and best things” included not only his qualities as commander, but also ‘civil’ and personal ones, as well as the rewards for his outstanding performance on all these fields: He was acclaimed optimus orator, proved summa sapientia, made a fortune bono modo, and left many (male) children – and therefore he was awarded maximus honos and acknowledged as summus senator and clarissimus in civitate. Moreover, he was the only man to achieve all this since the foundation of Rome.53 III ‘Intersignification’ and ‘Monu-Mentality’: Connectivity and Complexity The effusive and emphatic use of superlatives and of concepts of primacy and matchlessness, such as primus, primaries, optimus and maximus (like Jupiter?)54 amount to a rhetoric of competitive comparison by senators between or with their peers, which was directly mirrored in the dynamic spiral propelling the spectrum of spoils displayed in triumphs, dedicated to temples or put up in particularly prominent loci oculatissimi broadening, as it were, by leaps and bounds. The overall pattern in the use of spoils for representative purposes which emerges from this selection of examples may be described in general terms like this: The concrete vocabulary of the evolving visual and monumental language of competitive emulation – i. e. temples, dedications of armour and works of art, paintings of battle scenes and portraits of triumphatores as well as honorific statues – and its grammar – i. e. the patterns and combinations of donations by imperatores, as it were, the rules of the when and where of display – formed a Geert-

52 53 54

Liv. 39.22.4; Plin. HN 11.174; Cic. Leg. 2.28. See Ziółkowski (1992) 122–125; Aronen, in: LTUR III (1996) 362–364; Coarelli (1997) 227–233; Hölkeskamp (2016b/2017a) 296–297; Davies (2017) 49. Q. Caecilius L. f. Metellus, ORF4 6 frg. 2 = Plin. HN 7.139–140. See on the strategies of self-fashioning of the Caecilii Metelli in general Hölkeskamp (2016b/2017a), with full references. See on the “rhetoric of the primus” now Roller (2009) 225–229; (2018) 139–147; Biggs (2017), with further references.

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zian “web of significance”, underlying this particular “ensemble of texts, themselves ensembles”.55 This ensemble was generated by what Matt Roller named “intersignification” in an important recent paper on monuments and memory. He defined this concept as a complement and indeed extension of the well-established concept of ‘intertextuality’, with which it stands “in a potentially productive relationship”. The new concept is meant to “broaden the range of the term ‘intertextuality’ to make it refer to iconographical and architectural phenomena as well as literary ones”. In even more concrete terms, ‘intersignification’ highlights the “dynamics of reference, inclusion, modification, and appropriation”, which underlies permanent “competition” via visual and especially “monumental forms” in the shape of, in this case, temples, dedications of spoils in the form of armour and works of art, triumphal paintings and honorific ­statues. As “a matter of competitive self-assertion of gloria by the individuals and families involved”, these monuments were erected, put on display and above all paid for by Roman aristocrats, “especially as magistrates and generals”, in order to commemorate and indeed eternalize their successes as well as “to maintain and expand the family’s monumental portfolio”. Beyond the omnipresent competition for positions, rank and reputation, prominence and precedence, these aristocrats and their families shared a fundamental characteristic, namely a culture-specific “monu-mentality”. Moreover, the concept focusses on the complex interrelations, on the one hand, between the “location” and the “form” or genre of these monuments, which their dedicators “tended to select” in order to generate a surplus of messages and meanings by creating “a studied contrast with pre-existing monuments”. They tried to achieve this objective by a variety of ways and means, including “strategies of incorporation and imitation”, by which new or ‘young’ monuments “might seek to appropriate their predecessors’ prestige, or alternatively, to modify, reposition, or supersede these predecessors, leaving them and their dedicators in the shadow of the later, and allegedly greater, achievement”. On the other hand, ‘intersignification’ is meant to conceptualize the interplay, “crossing or mixing” of different “genres” as “subsystems that are to some extent distinctive and durable within the overall sign system” of public monuments in general: for example, temples, spoils and ‘triumphal’ paintings, and even the representation of memorable men by equestrian statues and togati, may each constitute different ‘genres’ within the overarching “sign system of public monuments” – in other words: ‘intersignification’ includes another particular ‘web’ which we may call ‘intermediality’. Monuments of a specific genre and their intentional combination with those of other genres in artful “strategic assemblages of signs” were thus intended to

55

Geertz (1973) 5, 452, cf. chapter 1 and 8 on his “interpretive theory of culture” and on “ideology as a cultural system”; see also Geertz (1983) chapter 5 and 6 on “art as a cultural system” and “symbolics of power”; cf. Hölscher (1992) 464–465 and passim.

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produce “an implicit narrative that carries moral and political weight”.56 This narrative could only be read and understood against the backdrop of the collective ‘­meritocratic’ code of behaviour, the repertoire of shared value concepts of the Roman republican ruling class and a wealth of exempla of mythical-historical feats of famous “men of old”.57 Karl-J. Hölkeskamp Universität zu Köln [email protected]

Roller (2013) 119–120, 130 and passim; Meadows & Williams (2001) 41; Wallace-Hadrill (1990) 158 (quotations); Hölscher (2014) 256–262; (2019) 89–92; Hölkeskamp (2006b/2020) 127–129 on ‘monu-mentality’. See on ‘intermediality’ e. g. Rajewsky (2002) 1–27 and passim; (2005) with further references. 57 Enn. Ann. frg. 500 Vahlen = 156 Skutsch (= Cic. Rep. 5.1). See now on ‘exemplarity’ as a central figure of the Roman discourse on history, values etc. Roller (2009; 2018). 56

Sicily, Rome, and the Communicative Power of Spoils Laura Pfuntner I Introduction Sicily’s experience of Roman spoil-taking began early, with Rome’s first campaign on the island in 264 – a campaign that Polybius claims was significantly motivated by the potential for spoils (1.11). This chapter focuses on three key moments in Rome’s history in Sicily that centre around spoils, and in particular, the acquisition of portable works of art (or signa) from conquered communities: Marcus Claudius Marcellus’ conquest and plunder of Syracuse in 212 and its aftermath; Scipio Aemilianus’ return of statues to their Sicilian communities of origin after the capture of Carthage in 146; and Cicero’s presentation of both of these events (but particularly Scipio’s return of statues) in his second set of orations against Verres in 70 BCE.1 Six or seven decades separate each of these incidents, so they provide snapshots of the island in different stages of provincialisation. Each incident also highlights the symbolic power of spoils in interactions between the various participants in the growth of the Roman imperial Republic: the Roman armies and their commanders; conquered communities in Italy and the provinces; and the Roman Senate and populace. This discursive power of spoils, particularly as an instrument of diplomacy and political communication, is explored by other contributors to this volume, in the city of Rome itself (see Hölkeskamp) and amongst the allied communities of Italy (see Fronda); here I address it in an overseas provincial context. Through these incidents, we can recover something of the Sicilian perspective on Roman spoil-taking: in particular, the role that the spoils themselves (in the case of Marcellus, their loss; in the case of Scipio Aemilianus, their return) played in Sicilian interactions with the Roman Republic.2

1 2

The passages from Cicero that I discuss here have been examined recently, albeit briefly and with a somewhat different focus than my own, by Díaz Ariño (2021). In this respect, I depart from the tendency to interpret Roman spoil-taking in Sicily primarily through the lenses of competitive emulation amongst the Roman elite, and more broadly, Rome’s political and cultural relationship with the Hellenistic Eastern Mediterranean; e. g. Ferrary (1988) 576–588; Gruen (1992) 86–128; and more recently Kendall (2009).

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To better understand the significance of these episodes of Roman plunder and restitution to the Sicilian communities themselves, and to appreciate how these communities were uniquely well-positioned amongst provincial populations to deploy the symbolism of spoils in their political communications with Rome, it is necessary to take a long view of spoil-taking in Sicily. Many Sicilian communities had been subjected to extensive plundering of both human and material resources long before the First Punic War, particularly in the periodic warfare between Greeks and Carthaginians in the fifth and fourth centuries. To cite just one case that would resonate especially strongly in later interactions between Romans and Sicilians, the polis of Himera on the north coast was the site of a great Greek victory against the Carthaginians in 480 BCE that, according to Diodorus, enriched cities across the island with spoils.3 Just over seventy years later, however, Himera was sacked and plundered again by the Carthaginians; the urban site was subsequently abandoned, with the remaining residents resettling nearby at Thermae Himeraeae.4 Rome’s expeditions to Sicily in the First Punic War did, as promised, provide many opportunities for spoil-taking. Most notably, the capture of Akragas (Agrigentum) on the south-central coast yielded “many slaves and a quantity of spoils of every description”, according to Polybius (1.19). Diodorus puts the number of captured residents at 25,000.5 Sales of captured persons as spoils followed at Mazara, Mytistratus and Camarina (Diod. Sic. 23.9). After the Roman conquest of Panormus, Diodorus says, 14,000 inhabitants each paid two minas to secure their own freedom, while 13,000 more were sold as spoils, along with portable goods from the city (23.18). Although it is impossible to know the precise demographic effects of these mass captures, they do imply considerable movement, at least in the short term, of Sicilians away from their communities of origin. Rome also received formal payments to support its war effort: early on, in 263 Hieron II of Syracuse secured peace and autonomy over his own kingdom with 100 talents.6 Moreover, the treaty that concluded the war in 241 provided for the Carthaginian evacuation of Sicily and the payment of a 3,200-talent indemnity over the course of a decade.7

3 4 5 6 7

Diod. Sic. 11.21–26, highlighting the embellishment of Syracuse, Akragas and Himera itself from the human and material spoils taken from the Carthaginians. Diod. Sic. 13.59–62 for the sack of Himera; 13.75 and 79 for the settlement of Thermae, emphasizing the mixed Greco-Punic population of the new town. Diod. Sic. 23.9; Zonar. 8.10: representing the entire citizen body. Plb. 1.16: 100 talents; cp. Diod. Sic. 23.4: 150,000 drachmas = 25 talents (referring to the first instalment? This would explain the discrepancy with Polybius). Plb. 1.62–63. The first treaty negotiated between Rome and Carthage set the indemnity at 2,200 talents to be paid over twenty years. This treaty was rejected in Rome, and ten commissioners were sent to impose harsher terms on the Carthaginians, which included reducing the term of payment by half, and adding a thousand talents. See Bleckmann (2002) 218–224 on the Roman decision-making process.

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II The Impact of Roman Spoil-Taking on a Provincial Community: Marcellus and Syracuse After the departure of the Carthaginians, the Sicilian communities that lay outside the Syracusan kingdom of Hieron came under the authority of Rome. However, a formal system of Roman oversight and exploitation seems to have developed only gradually, and many details about the Roman military and administrative presence on the island in the decades between the First and Second Punic Wars remain obscure (for example, the regularity with which the island was assigned as a province).8 Yet it would seem that the distinctive features of the Roman administrative system that we know best from Cicero – namely, the annual or semiannual collection of a grain tithe from the majority of Sicilian communities, under the administration of a praetorial governor and two quaestors – had their origins in the closing decades of the third century, and particularly as Rome consolidated its control over the entirety of the island after the fall of Syracuse. The pivotal event in the Sicilian theatre of the Second Punic War, and central to any discussion of Roman spoils from Sicily, was Marcus Claudius Marcellus’ conquest of Syracuse in late 212 or early 211 after a long siege.9 Marcellus’ plunder of the city, and his subsequent display of its artistic treasures in Rome, was viewed in hindsight as a turning point in Rome’s cultural relationship with the Greek world.10 Consequently, it is the effect of the Syracusan spoils on the city of Rome – and particularly their political and cultural legacy – that has dominated scholarly discussion.11 What is less frequently considered, however, is how this act of removal may have affected Syracuse itself. An important point that is often lost in discussions of the conquest and plundering of the city is that Marcellus explicitly prohibited the taking of freeborn captives.12 By contrast, when two years later his successor Valerius Laevinus captured Akragas, the last anti-Roman holdout in Sicily, its residents were sold along with material spoils from the town (Liv. 26.40.1). The plunder of Syracuse unfolded in stages, with Marcellus’ land forces taking the outlying districts of Tyche and Neapolis first. Once Marcellus had received a delegation from those neighbourhoods 8 9 10

11 12

It is usually assumed that a praetor was sent regularly to Sicily after the creation of a third and fourth praetorship in 227 BCE (Liv. Per. 20), but the evidence is patchy; see Prag (2007) 72 and Brennan (2000) 91–95, 136–153. See Lentzsch in this volume for an extended discussion of Marcellus’ activities in Sicily and Southern Italy. As Flower puts it, Marcellus’ “rich booty of Greek art from Syracuse led to his becoming an icon in the culture wars of the second century BC” (2003: 41). Livy, for instance, famously claims that the removal of Syracuse’s art works to Rome initiated a long process of religious and moral decline (25.40.2). E. g. Ferrary (1988); Gruen (1992); McDonnell (2006a); Miles (2008); Östenberg (2009). Liv. 25.25.7, 28.3; Diod. Sic. 26.20.1; Plut. Marc. 19.2. For Marcellus’ interactions with the Syracusans during and after the siege, see Eckstein (1987) 156–177.

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and agreed to spare the free population, he allowed his troops to plunder them freely (Liv. 25.25.7–10). As Marcellus was poised to take the inner district of Achradina, he received a delegation of Sicilian troops with whom he agreed more or less lenient terms of surrender that, among other things, would have exempted the rest of the city from plunder (Liv. 25.28.3).13 However, in Livy’s telling, the overthrow of the Syracusan leaders who had supported the peace caused the agreement to collapse (25.28.4–29). Marcellus proceeded to take part of Achradina, leaving the Syracusans in a much weaker position, daring to ask Marcellus only for their lives to be spared (25.31.1–2). Once the rest of the city – namely, Achradina and the island of Ortygia, the site of Hieron’s palace – were under his control, Marcellus sent a quaestor and a party of soldiers to take over and guard the royal treasure (presumably the main source of the works of art he would later display in Rome). He also posted guards at the houses of the pro-Roman Syracusans under his protection before turning the city over to his troops to plunder (25.31.8). Here and in other Sicilian communities that surrendered to him, Marcellus seems to have followed a policy of rewarding pro-Roman elements and punishing anti-Roman ones (25.40.4). For example, Sosis, a Syracusan who had aided in the final betrayal of the city to the Romans, received Roman citizenship, 500 iugera of land in Syracusan territory that had belonged to the king or to opponents of Rome, and the choice of a house in Syracuse from those confiscated from the anti-Roman faction (26.21.10–12). Although Livy’s account does not linger long in Sicily after the fall of Syracuse, we gain some insight into the consequences of the Roman capture of Syracuse for the city’s residents from his narrative of the events that followed Marcellus’ controversial return to Rome. In early 210, when Marcellus was embarking on his fourth consulship, a delegation of Syracusans came to Rome at the instigation of his political enemies to protest Marcellus’ treatment of their city.14 Even before their audience with the Senate, the complaints the Syracusans made privately to senators had prompted Marcellus and his colleague Laevinus to switch their provinces, with Laevinus now responsible for Sicily and Marcellus to take on the war with Hannibal in Italy (Liv. 26.29). In Livy’s account, when brought before the Senate to make their case against Marcellus, the Syracusans complained that nothing was left in their city, since portable decorations and artworks had been removed from both houses and sanctuaries (26.30.9). The ­Syracusans also protested the confiscation of their land, and asked the Senate to restore to them at least the property that could be clearly identified.15 This request speaks to the difficul-

13 14 15

Similar terms had been on the table during negotiations before the siege got underway in 214 (Liv. 24.33.6). Livy indicates that other Sicilians also came to Rome (26.26–27, 29–32 passim), but details only the complaints of the Syracusans. See Plut. Marc. 23. Liv. 26.30.10 (orare se patres conscriptos, ut, si nequeant omnia, saltem quae compareant cognoscique possint, restitui dominis iubeant).

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ties faced by the Syracusans who were left free after Marcellus captured the city, but whose portable and (in some cases) landed possessions had not been exempted from confiscation.16 Indeed, Diodorus claims that these dire circumstances prompted many Syracusans to sell themselves into slavery after the capture of the city (26.20.2). After Marcellus spoke in his own defence, the Senate deliberated, and ended up with a judgment more or less favourable to Marcellus: his acts were confirmed, and the Senate agreed, in Livy’s telling, to attend to the city’s interests and to instruct the consul Laevinus to assist it as far as was possible (i. e., in the recovery of property) without detriment to Rome (26.32.6–7). Perhaps as a security measure, given the vagueness of the Senate’s assurances, the Syracusans then appealed to Marcellus personally for forgiveness. Marcellus agreed to this, and to their request for protection and patronage (fides and clientela, in Livy’s words) for themselves and for their city (26.32.8). Plutarch adds that in return, the Syracusans honoured Marcellus by passing a law providing that whenever he or any of his descendants landed in Sicily, they would wear garlands and offer sacrifices to the gods (Marc. 23.7). The annual Marcellia festival and the statue of Marcellus in the bouleuterion of Syracuse that Cicero mentions almost a century and a half later also honoured this patronage relationship.17 It has frequently been noted that this is the first attested instance of a Roman commander becoming a patron of a conquered community.18 But it is important to recognize that by all accounts, the initiative in establishing the relationship lay with the Syracusans themselves.19 By 210, after many seasons of intensive military campaigns in Sicily, making personal appeals to an imperator (and to Marcellus in particular) was a familiar mode of interaction with Roman authority for the Syracusans – certainly more so than speaking before the Senate. Although the honours for Marcellus and his family clearly drew on traditions of Hellenistic ruler cult, the hereditary nature of the patronage relationship reflected in the honours conferred on Marcellus’ descendants may stem from a familiarity with the customs of clientela, that resulted from the Syracusans’ many decades of diplomatic contacts with Romans on the island.20

16

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The Syracusan complaints also reflect the difficulties that the Roman side encountered in legitimizing the plunder of cities that, despite their recent ‘treachery’, had previously developed close ties with Rome – and hence, in legitimizing the spoils themselves. The concurrent embassy to the Senate of a small group of Capuans asking for leniency, and the specific provisions the Romans made in response (Liv. 26.33–34), shows that even when imposing a punishment on Capua intended to be exemplary in its severity (Liv. 26.14–16), the Romans could not condemn the city’s entire population without discrimination. I thank Marian Helm for this insight. Marcellia: 2 Verr. 2.51 (also honours C. Marcellus), 4.151; bronze statue in the bouleuterion: 2.50. E. g. by Badian (1958) 157. As noted by Gruen (1984) 164. As Rives (1993) has argued.

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Yet the Senate’s backing and Marcellus’ patronage seem to have yielded little immediate practical benefit to the Syracusans, particularly in resolving the economic and political turmoil precipitated by the capture and plunder of their city. Marcellus died on campaign in Italy without ever returning to Sicily. His consular colleague Laevinus was forced to deal with disorder in Syracuse when he arrived in Sicily later in 210 (Liv. 26.40.1), but his settlement seems not to have been complete.21 Roman efforts to induce Sicilians who had fled during the war to return by restoring their property to them – as seen in the proclamation made at the Olympic Festival in 208 (Liv. 27.35.3–4) – may have exacerbated economic and political instability in Syracuse and other communities. Publius Cornelius Scipio, the future Africanus, was forced to deal with continued instability three years later. According to Livy, it was only Scipio’s edict and judgements (edictum and iudicia) that enabled native Syracusans to recover their property from Italians who had taken possession of it after Marcellus’ capture of the city,22 and who had maintained their claims despite the Senate’s earlier assurances to the Syracusans and the efforts of Laevinus (29.1.15–18). The long-drawn-out aftermath of the Roman capture of Syracuse points to the uncertainty and complexity of the city’s transition from a friend of Rome under Hieron II to an adversary, and then to a subject. The Syracusan delegation’s critique of Marcellus’ rationale for taking the city by force (Liv. 26.30.1–8)  – even though it was not ultimately accepted by the Senate – raised the questions of who legitimately spoke for the divided city in negotiations with the Romans, and what Rome’s obligations to the city were beyond the immediate aftermath of its capture and plunder. What the Syracusans gained from their embassy to Rome in 210 – namely, the Senate’s confirmation of Marcellus’ acts and vague instructions to the consul Laevinus, as well as the personal protection and patronage of Marcellus – did not produce a clear and lasting resolution to the internal divisions that had been exacerbated by the seizure of Syracusan property. Scipio’s actions in Syracuse five years later also point to another long-term impact of the confiscation and alienation of Sicilian land: that is, the introduction of resident Romans and Italians as figures in the political and economic life of Sicilian cities.

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Livy’s reference (26.40.15–18), in the aftermath of the fall of Agrigentum, to Laevinus’ transfer across to Rhegium of 4,000 “exiles and debtors” (exsules, obaerati) who had gathered at Agathyrnum, may be another indication of the broader destabilizing impact of wartime population displacements and property confiscations on Sicilian communities. The identity of these Italians is obscure. They were certainly not formally settled colonists, and more likely were opportunistic merchants associated with the Roman armies campaigning on the island (see Liv. 29.1.16).

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III Restitution as Diplomacy: Scipio, Sicily, and the Spoils of Carthage Six and a half decades after Marcellus’ capture and plunder of Syracuse, in the aftermath of the capture of Carthage, comes a unique instance of the movement of a specific group of spoils into (rather than out of) Sicily: Scipio Aemilianus’ return of portable art works from Carthage to the Sicilian cities from which they had been taken in centuries past. As with Marcellus and Syracuse, Scipio’s right as the victorious general to dispose of the spoils of Carthage as he saw fit was not under question, though unlike Marcellus’ removal of Syracusan art works to Rome, Scipio’s decision to return the statues to their communities of origin is given a uniformly positive reception in its many retellings. Yet it is worth taking a closer look at these accounts (apart from Cicero’s, which is considered separately below) in order to consider how actively and directly involved Scipio was in the process of return. According to Appian’s summary of Polybius, after Carthage was taken, Scipio turned the city over to his soldiers to plunder, reserving the gold, silver and temple gifts, presumably as manubiae at his disposal.23 He then sent a message to Sicily that if the Sicilians came and identified the public offerings (anathemata koina) that the Carthaginians had plundered in war, they could take them back (Lib. 133). Diodorus elaborates on the process of return, saying that Scipio showed “the collected spoils to the envoys (presbeutai) who had arrived from Sicily, enjoined them to pick out whatever things had been carried off from their particular cities to Carthage in times past, and to take them home to Sicily. Many portraits of famous men were found, many statues of outstanding workmanship, and not a few striking dedications to the gods in gold and silver” (32.25).24 Similarly, Valerius Maximus claims that after the sack of Carthage, Scipio sent letters to the communities of Sicily instructing them to send envoys (legati) to recover the temple decorations that had been stolen by the Carthaginians and to replace them in their former locations (5.1.6).25 Although Scipio takes a more active role in some narratives than others, in all of them the initiative to identify and recover art works from Carthage lies with Sicilian communities themselves. There is no indication that Scipio preferred particular communities or played any role in the identification of particular works. We also get few hints of Scipio’s motivations, other than advertising his clemency and generosity. Although Sicily’s communities had long provided provisions, logistical support and ancillary manpower to Rome, particularly in preparation for campaigns in Africa, Scipio’s gesture was not necessarily intended as a reward for this assistance.26 The gesture

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Following the interpretation of Churchill (1999); see also Rosenstein (2011). F. R. Walton’s Loeb translation (1957), with my modifications. Other accounts of the event include [Plut.] Apophth. 200 (no. 6) and Eutr. 4.12. As Prag (2007) 78–80 notes, there is little evidence for Sicilian participation in Roman overseas expeditions, including the final campaign against Carthage. For Scipio’s motives, see Astin (1967)

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could, however, solidify Sicilian support – particularly for Scipio and his family – at relatively little expense to the commander himself or to the Roman treasury. The Scipiones had ties to the island going back more than half a century, and Scipio’s act of repatriation could serve as a rejoinder to Marcellus’ notorious removal of the art treasures of Syracuse to Rome 75 years earlier. The return of spoils from Carthage was essentially a diplomatic process, involving a Roman commander sending instructions to subject communities, and these communities sending envoys to meet him in the field. It is not clear exactly how Scipio’s instructions reached the various communities of Sicily, but presumably the Sicilians who got word had to act relatively quickly to claim their statues. Some communities, such as those on the coast, may have benefited from quicker access to Scipio’s instructions. It also appears that the Sicilian communities themselves were responsible for transport to and from Carthage, which would have further advantaged communities that were sufficiently wealthy and well-connected to make such arrangements. Sicily was not the only place outside Rome to receive spoils from Carthage.27 We learn from Pliny the Elder, for instance, that the senate gave the libraries from Carthage to African reguli after making provisions for Mago’s treatise on agriculture to be translated into Latin (HN 18.22). In addition to Rome itself, Scipio also dedicated spoils in Italian communities like Marruvium (discussed by Fronda in this volume). We can compare the base from Marruvium with two Greek inscriptions from Thermae Himeraeae (modern Termini Imerese) on the north-western coast of Sicily, which are probably imperial-era copies of the inscriptions that originally adorned the bases of statues returned to the city.28 Although many readings are uncertain, these Greek texts from Thermae, like the Latin inscription on the base from Marruvium (ILLRP 326 = ILS 67), clearly emphasize the personal role of Scipio: all three texts begin with his name, in the nominative case. Unlike the Marruvium base, however, the bases from Thermae distinguish the statues as repatriated objects rather than dedicated spoils, specifying that they had originally been taken by the Carthaginians from the polis of Himera.29

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77; Ferrary (1988) 581–587; Gruen (1992) 115–117; Purcell (1995); Miles (2008) 93–103; Kendall (2009); Rutledge (2012) 53–55. As Eutropius 4.12 hints: … ornamenta urbium civitatibus Siciliae, Italiae, Africae reddidit, quae sua recognoscebant, though he fails to distinguish between different types of spoils and modes of distribution. Brugnone (1974) no. 3 (= IG 14.315) and no. 4. Whereas the inscribed base from Marruvium identifies the dedication as spoils captured from Carthage (Carthagine capta), the Thermae bases indicate that the objects had been taken from Himera (ἐξ Ἱμέρας) and then restored to the Himeraeans (Ἱμεραίοις [Θερμιτανοῖς?]). Cicero (2 Verr. 4.97) notes that Scipio dedicated Corinthian bronze helmets, cuirasses and hydriae taken from Carthage at the sanctuary of Magna Mater in Engyion. Though these objects had presumably been taken by the Carthaginians from Sicily at some earlier date, it is not clear whether Scipio intended them as an offering or as a restitution to the sanctuary (Ferrary 1988, 579). Scipio may also

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The capture of Carthage was not the first instance in which Roman spoils were distributed to places other than Rome itself. We could recall, for instance, the spoils from the war in Spain that Scipio Africanus had sent to Delphi sixty years earlier (Liv.  28.45.12).30 The obvious, near-contemporary parallel to Aemilianus’ acts in the aftermath of the capture of Carthage is Mummius’ disposition of the spoils of Corinth to sanctuaries in mainland Greece, to Italian communities, and possibly even as far afield as Italica in Spain.31 Yet there is no other recorded instance of a Roman commander taking previously-plundered objects as spoils himself, then returning them to their communities of origin. So Scipio Aemilianus was both building upon a practice established in part by members of his own family, and setting a precedent, particularly regarding the benevolent treatment of subject communities. Scipio is usually given all the credit for this “unique and imaginative” gesture (in Astin’s wording),32 but its innovative power came from the willingness of Sicilian communities to participate, as well as from Sicily’s particular history of conflict and collaboration with the competing empires of Rome and Carthage. The return of the statues was predicated on Sicily’s long history of plunder by Carthage – a city that could now, at over sixty years’ remove from the final suppression of pro-Carthaginian sentiment on the island, be construed as the shared enemy of Rome and Sicily, and one whose formerly extensive hegemony had been completely dissolved and replaced by that of Rome.33 The return was also facilitated by the various mechanisms of communication and collaboration between the Roman authorities and the island’s communities – the sending of embassies, the supplying of ships, and so on – that had developed since the first two Punic wars. IV Cicero and the Communicative Power of Sicilian Spoils We can gain some insight into the legacies of Marcellus’ and Scipio’s acts, and particularly into how Sicilians and Romans could cooperatively interpret their meaning, from Cicero’s second set of speeches against Verres, composed about 75 years after the fall of Carthage. Sicily had seen some upheaval in the intervening decades – most notably, two slave revolts – but on the whole its communities seem to have experienced relative

30

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have been seeking to make his mark in a community that Marcellus had notably spared, despite its pro-Carthaginian stance (Plut. Marc. 20). An act with its own echo in Rome’s legendary history: a golden bowl funded by plunder from Veii was dedicated in the Massalian treasury in Delphi, in fulfilment of the vow of Camillus (Liv. 5.25.10, 5.28.1–6; Plut. Cam. 8; Diod. Sic. 14.93–5; see App. Ital. 8.3 for the loss of this offering in the Third Sacred War). I thank Marian Helm for pointing this out. Discussed in detail by Kendall (2009) and Díaz Ariño (2021). Astin (1967) 76. Purcell (1995).

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prosperity. An upswing in monumental building activity is visible in the last decades of the second century in communities across the island, including at least three of the communities that Cicero discusses (Segesta, Tyndaris and Agrigentum).34 This activity was probably encouraged by the generally peaceful conditions on the island, and was enabled by the beneficence of local elites who, along with resident Romans and Italians, prospered under the economic and political hegemony of Rome.35 The province of Sicily that Cicero saw during his quaestorship of 75, and on his reconnaissance trip while preparing his prosecution of Verres a few years later, was one where interand intra-community tensions still existed, and it remained vulnerable to the abuses of Roman magistrates. But its fiscal and administrative apparatus, when properly functioning, both required the collaboration of, and served the political and economic interests of, local elites.36 Both Marcellus’ and Scipio’s actions towards Sicily play key roles in Cicero’s presentation of Verres’ crimes, as he frequently contrasts the beneficence of Scipio and the supposed restraint of Marcellus with the greed, cruelty and rapaciousness of Verres. The link between Marcellus and Scipio and the communities supposedly plundered by Verres gives Cicero’s imagined Roman audience (and particularly the descendants of Marcellus and Scipio in it) a more direct stake in Verres’ thefts. Cicero also does the work of associating what other narratives and the Thermae inscriptions present as the individual act of Scipio with the broader will and interest of Rome, emphasizing early on that the monuments (monumenta) plundered by Verres bore the names of Marcellus and Scipio, but actually represented the populus Romanus (2 Verr. 1.11). This work of association continues in the individual cases of theft that Cicero describes, beginning with Thermae (see Table 1). When Verres presses the town’s leading citizen, Sthenius, to assist him in obtaining the statues, Cicero has Sthenius articulate in their defence their connection not only to Scipio, but to the Roman Empire itself: “these signa antiquissima, monumenta of Scipio Africanus, could not by any possibility be carried away from the town of Thermae so long as Thermae and the imperium populi Romani remained intact” (2.85).37 Starting with Thermae, Cicero uses descriptions of the statues returned to Sicilian cities in order to tell a particular version of Sicily’s history that will resonate with his Roman audience. Of the several bronze statues (complura signa ex aere) that were returned to Thermae, two of the three that Cicero describes – the female figure taken to be a personification of Himera, and a portrait of the poet Stesichorus, once a resident of Himera – highlight the Greekness of Thermae and its close connection to the ancient polis of Himera, the site of the famous Greek victory

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For this activity, see especially the chapters in Osanna & Torelli (2006). E. g. from participation in the collection of the annual tithe, as discussed by Prag (2003). See Pfuntner (2015) for this aspect of the Sicily presented by Cicero in his prosecution of Verres. Here and in the succeeding paragraphs, I follow L. H. G. Greenwood’s Loeb translation (1928, 1935), with modifications.

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over the Carthaginians. Cicero explains that after the destruction of Himera, its surviving citizens settled nearby at Thermae, and claims that as they saw their ancestral ornamenta being set up in the town, they felt themselves beginning to regain the prosperity and importance of their forefathers (2.86). And so, in Cicero’s telling, Scipio’s return of statues to Thermae enables the restoration of a city that symbolized the achievements of classical Greek Sicily as well as its enmity with Carthage. Cicero obscures the more than two and a half centuries that had elapsed between the Carthaginian sack of Himera and Scipio’s conquest of Carthage. This vast implied time gap between the removal of the statues and their return might prompt the question of how they were identified by the envoys from Thermae who answered Scipio’s call: did the statues have labels that the Carthaginians kept? Did some sort of record exist of the statues taken from Himera? Cicero provides a similarly detailed account of the statues returned to three other cities, Segesta, Agrigentum and Tyndaris, but in each case, he highlights different aspects of the community’s historical interactions with Rome. In introducing Verres’ theft from Segesta, a hilltop town of Elymian origin in the north-western interior, Cicero emphasizes its claim to common descent from Aeneas, and its ties of societas, amicitia and cognatio with Rome (4.72). The object of Verres’ predation was a statue of Diana (Artemis) that Scipio had returned from Carthage. Unlike the Thermae statues, which are not given any sacred associations, Cicero emphasizes the deep religious significance of the Diana of Segesta. His description of the Segestans’ treatment of the restored statue recalls the two inscriptions found at Thermae in its emphasis on the personal agency of Scipio. According to Cicero, the Segestans set the statue on a high pedestal, with the name of Africanus inscribed in large letters, with a statement of “how he had restored the statue after the capture of Carthage” (4.73). But Cicero’s Segestans, like Sthenius of Thermae, explicitly link Scipio’s return of their statue with the will of the Roman people. They defend themselves against Verres with “the name of Africanus, saying that the statue was the property of the Roman people, and that they had no authority to dispose of what an illustrious general, after capturing the enemy’s city, had intended to be a memorial of the Roman victory” (4.75). Unlike Segesta, Agrigentum could not claim to be an early and consistent friend and ally of Rome. Instead, Cicero uses the statues Scipio returned to the city to tell the story of its transformation from a powerful independent city-state ruled by tyrants to an enemy of Rome to a subject and ally. Cicero first describes the Bull of Phalaris, a hollow bronze statue within which the eponymous tyrant of the city would roast men alive.38 He claims that when returning this object to the people of Agrigentum, “Scipio is said to have recommended that they ask themselves whether it was better to be the

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Apart from Cicero, our knowledge of the notorious Bull of Phalaris comes primarily from fragments of Diodorus (9.18–19). It is also mentioned by Pindar (Pyth. 1.95).

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slaves of their own countrymen or to be obedient to Rome, now that they possessed this memorial both of their own country’s cruelty and of Roman kindness” (4.73). This anecdote alludes to Akragas’ history of tyranny and to its troubled history with Rome – it had, after all, been captured and plundered by the Romans twice in the First and Second Punic Wars. Cicero’s later description of the local reaction to Verres’ theft of the Apollo of Myron that Scipio had returned reveals that the people of Akragas had learned their lesson. In Cicero’s telling, the townspeople were distressed by the loss not only of “Scipio’s benefaction”, but also “their own sacred object, their city’s adornment, the record of our victory”, and “the evidence of their alliance with Rome (testimonium societatis)” (4.93). In describing Scipio’s return of statues to Thermae, Segesta and Agrigentum, Cicero emphasizes that Scipio’s gesture was aimed at all of the Sicilians (Siculi omnes) (2.86, 4.73), and this is in agreement with the other ancient descriptions of the return discussed above. Yet in summarizing the testimony of Tyndaris about Verres’ theft of the statue of Mercury that Scipio had returned to their city, Cicero indicates that the town interpreted the gesture as a sign of particular favour: “after the taking of Carthage, Scipio gave them this statue, as a memorial and marker not only of his own victory but their loyal conduct as allies” (4.84). Cicero reinforces this point again in his attack on Verres’ treatment of the Sicilian naval forces, this time placing Segesta alongside Tyndaris as communities that Scipio marked out for favour for their loyalty and service to Rome: “Scipio judged that these cities should be particularly honoured with the spoils of war (spolia hostium)” (5.124). In an apostrophe to Tyndaris, he explicitly ties Scipio’s act to the city’s service: “Once Scipio led your sailors against Carthage … Africanus shared with you the spoils of war and the rewards of the victor’s glory” (5.125). As with Segesta, the people of Tyndaris could represent the repatriation of the statue of Mercury as evidence of their long history of allegiance to Rome, whether or not the town had actually contributed materially to the campaign against Carthage to the extent that Cicero claims.39 V Conclusion Even though Cicero’s presentation of Scipio’s return of signa to the communities of Sicily emphasizes the personal agency of Scipio more than other accounts, this emphasis is not just rhetorical embellishment. Rather, Cicero’s account gives us some insight into how Scipio’s gesture was understood by the communities that claimed back objects, and about the ways they used the returned objects to frame their evolving 39

See Prag (2007) 78–82, for the participation of naval contingents from Tyndaris in campaigns against Carthage, and for the town as one of a group of seventeen cities (septemdecim populi) that was perhaps expected to contribute to Sicily’s defence (2 Verr. 5.124).

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relationships with Roman power. As with Scipio’s original act of return, the efficacy of Cicero’s argument about the signa comes from the active participation of the Sicilian communities in defending them and explaining their meaning. There are some constants – for example, that the returned statues commemorate the beneficence and achievements of Scipio on behalf of the Roman people – but communities could also use the statues to reflect on their individual histories of Roman power, whether friendly or adversarial. The statues were a tangible connection with Rome and one of its leading families, that communities could use as leverage with Roman magistrates. Cicero notes that the Diana was the first thing the people of Segesta took him to see when he visited the city as quaestor in 75 (4.74). We might imagine similar demonstrations being made to other visiting magistrates, in other cities where repatriated statues were on display, though in the case of Verres, the presentations seem to have had the opposite effect to the one intended. In Cicero’s telling, the repatriated statues on display in Sicilian towns thus have the potential to communicate in both directions: to the Romans, to emphasize the status and merit of individual Sicilian communities stemming from their (alleged) past service; and to the Sicilian communities, to remind them of the rewards brought by Rome, and potentially also of the penalties for disobeying Rome. Cicero also speaks of the honorific statues of notable Romans, and especially of the Marcelli, that had pride of place in many Sicilian communities.40 Yet the signa from Carthage were even more potent memorials of the relationship between Roman commander and subject community, because each one was both a benefaction (in the form of the returned statue itself) and a commemoration of the benefactor (in the form of the inscription on the statue base). Furthermore, even though it appears that Scipio did not target specific communities, the repatriated statues evoked the particular histories and identities of the communities that claimed them back. And so, even if not intended as such, communities like Tyndaris and Segesta could present Scipio’s act of return as a mark of special favour. The statues also supported stable civic identities in communities like Thermae, Gela and Agrigentum, that had undergone tremendous demographic upheaval in previous centuries, including at the hands of Rome itself: most notably, the population of Agrigentum had been sold as slaves after the Romans captured the city in the First and Second Punic Wars.41 The city’s instability in the aftermath of the Second Punic War seems to have prompted another Scipio to regulate admission to the council to accommodate both the old citizens of the town and the newer citizens brought in to supplement the population from elsewhere in Sicily (Cic. 2 Verr. 2.123).

40 41

Most notably, the statue of M. Marcellus in the bouleuterion of Syracuse (Cic. 2 Verr. 2.50); also the equestrian statues of Marcelli in the marketplace of Tyndaris (4.86). The capture of the city and enslavement of the population during the First Punic War: Plb. 1.19; Diod. Sic. 23.9; Zonar. 8.10; and during the Second Punic War: Liv. 26.40.13.

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That the statues retained a place of honour in Sicilian communities even after Cicero’s prosecution of Verres is hinted at by Diodorus, who mentions that the Bull of Phalaris was still in Agrigentum at the time he was writing his history, in the middle decades of the first century BCE (Diod. Sic. 13.90).42 Furthermore, if the Thermae inscriptions are indeed imperial-era copies, this implies that the statues stood in the city for decades, or perhaps even centuries, after it had undergone yet another transformation under Augustus, this time to a Roman colony.43 Laura Pfuntner Queen’s University Belfast [email protected]

42 43

For the history of scholarship on this passage, see Dudzinski (2013). For the establishment of colonies in Thermae and other Sicilian cities under Octavian/Augustus, see especially Wilson (1990) 33–45.

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Table 1. Sicilian communities that received statues from Carthage, according to Cicero Town

Statues returned from Carthage

Location of returned statues

Other sources

Notes

Thermae ­Himeraeae (2 Verr. 2.85–87)

• Clothed • “some ­ female figure public part of (personificati­Thermae” on of Himera) (in publico) • Elderly male (2.85) figure leaning on a staff (­Stesichorus) • she-goat

Inscriptions: IG 14.315; Brugnone (1974) no. 4 Coins(?): BM Coins, Sicily, p. 84 nos. 7–10

Himera destroyed by Carthaginians in 408, Thermae settled shortly after (Diod. Sic. 13.62, 79)

Segesta (4.72– 82; 5.124–5, 185)

• Diana/­ Artemis

• the original temple? (in suis antiquis sedibus)

Agrigentum (Akragas) (4.73, 93)

• Bull of ­Phalaris • Apollo of Myron

• Bull of Phalaris: not specified • Apollo: Temple of Asclepius

Diod. Sic. 9.18–19, 13.90

Bull of Phalaris taken by Carthaginians in 406; still in Agrigentum in Diodorus’ day

Tyndaris (4.84; 5.124–5, 185)

• Mercury/ Hermes

• not specified

Gela (4.73)

• Not specified

• not specified

Gela sacked and abandoned in early third century (Diod. Sic. 22.2); statues claimed by town of Phintias?

[Engyion (4.97, 5.186)]

• [­Corinthian bronze helmets, breastplates; large hydriae]

• [Sanctuary of Magna Mater]

An offering rather than a restitution? (Ferrary 1988, 579)

Praeda, Latini and Socii The Movement of Spoils in Italy in the Second Century BCE* Michael P. Fronda I Introduction In 225 BCE, the consul C. Atilius Regulus transferred his army from Sardinia to Pisa and then marched along the Tyrrhenian coast in the direction of Rome. At Telamon, just north of Vulci and the Latin colony Cosa, Atilius’ army encountered a large Gallic force, which was now trapped between Atilius’ army and the army of the other consul, L. Aemilius Papus. In the ensuing battle – a spectacular Roman victory – 40,000 Gauls were killed and another 10,000 were taken to prison. Aemilius gathered up battlefield spoils and sent them to Rome. However, plunder that the Gauls had previously captured and kept in their camp, including livestock, Aemilius returned to their original owners. He then crossed the Apennines into the territory of the Boii, where he allowed his troops to plunder at will, before finally returning to Rome, presumably along the future route of the Via Flaminia.1 According to Polybius (2.21.5–6),2 Aemilius adorned the Temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus with the torques that he had taken from the defeated Gauls, but he retained the captives and remainder of the spoils in order to amplify his entry into the city and triumphal procession, celebrated on 5 March 224 BCE.3 This episode gestures to several interwoven themes in this chapter. First, spoils moved. They were obtained on or near the battlefield in the province (in Italy or be-

*

1 2 3

I would like to thank Marian Helm, Saskia Roselaar, Marleen Termeer, John Rich, François Gauthier and Brahm Kleinman for their helpful suggestions on this chapter. I would like to add special thanks to the organizers and staff of the PR.INT Conference “Spoils in the Roman Republic” for their invitation to participate and exceptional hospitality. Plb. 2.27.1–3, 2.31.1–6; cf. Diod. Sic. 25.13; Zon. 8.20; Eutrop. 3.5; Oros. 4.13.5–10; Walbank (1957) 204–207; on the route taken by Aemilius, see pp. 206–207. Polybius’ account of the battle of Telamon derives ultimately from Fabius Pictor: Walbank (1957) 204. Fasti Triumphales (Degrassi 1954, 101): L. Aimilius Q. f. Cn. n. Papus co(n)s(ul) de Galleis III nonas Mart.

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yond); some were distributed immediately to soldiers, while the rest was either then transported to Rome or (occasionally) to other locations. Second, spoils were visible. Indeed, much of their value was bound up in their use as objects of display, or in funding displays that commemorated Rome’s victories and enhanced the status of the general. And third, I will argue that the second century witnessed a particular development in the display of spoils and their role in victory commemoration, namely that they were displayed not only in Rome but also more widely in Italy, and that “Italians” formed an increasingly significant constituency of the viewing audience, both in the city and beyond. II The sharing of spoils in the provinces: some preliminaries As is demonstrated in this volume, “spoils” encompassed a wide range of items that the Romans seized from their enemies after a successful battle or war. These included moveable spoils such war captives (slaves), weapons and armour, cash, bullion, jewellery, plates and other vessels, tripods, statues and works of art and so forth. It also included non-moveable spoils, mainly land. I will focus on moveable spoils. The Romans had several terms for these. One was praeda, a more generic term which in the context of the division of spoils refers mostly to such spoils that were seized by or apportioned to the soldiers. In theory, praeda was meant to be divided equally among soldiers. This is the clear implication of Polybius’ famous description of the Roman procedure for sacking a city (10.16.5–9), located in his narrative of Scipio Africanus’ sack of New Carthage. The highly organized, systematic and above all fair process that Polybius presents, with plunder shared equally among the troops who despoiled the city and those who remained behind for whatever reason, is an idealization. The process of despoiling the enemy was surely a messier affair, with each soldier out for himself. Roman soldiers frequently ignored their commander’s attempts to restrain their behaviour, and it must have been difficult if not impossible to recover plunder that soldiers had already taken.4 Nevertheless, the Roman ethos was clearly that all plunder (or at least a significant portion of it) should be shared evenly among the soldiers, including both Roman and allied soldiers. Indeed, the sources do not differentiate between the soldiers in a Roman army – Romans, Latins (Latini) or allies (socii) – in descriptions of sacking and despoiling. It appears, then, that both Roman and non-Roman soldiers could enrich themselves from praeda.

4

For example, see Liv. 38.23.2–4, 38.27.3–5. After the siege of Syracuse in 212, the city was given over to the soldiers for plunder, against the wishes of Marcellus and his officers: Liv. 25.31.8–11; Plut. Marc. 19. It is interesting to note that in all versions of the death of Archimedes, which Livy and Plutarch place in the context of the Roman soldiers’ unbridled despoiling of the city, the soldiers go without punishment or reprimand. See also Ziółkowski (1993) for discussion.

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The second category of spoils was manubiae, which refers to the share of the spoils that was set aside by the general and reserved under his authority. It is generally assumed that Roman generals profited greatly – and disproportionately – from this portion of spoils. Indeed, it was previously argued that the general was entitled to manubiae, which became effectively his private property, set aside for him and his own uses.5 More recently it has been argued that manubiae remained technically the property of the Roman people, and so a general could not enrich himself from its acquisition strictly speaking.6 Nevertheless, generals had great discretion over how to use manubiae (provided it served a public purpose) and for how long he might keep possession of it for future public benefit. Indeed, generals sometimes held onto manubiae for a very long time, even years. This kind of behaviour surely contributed to the mixing-up of the general’s personal wealth and those spoils that he possessed but technically belonged to the state. Polybius implies as much in another famous passage (18.35), where he commends L. Aemilius Paullus and P. Cornelius Scipio Africanus as extraordinary examples of Roman integrity because they did not enrich themselves from spoils or mix up plunder with their personal fortunes – the implicit assumption that self-enrichment was the norm. Yet even if the general carefully preserved all manubiae for the Roman people, he could still make use of these spoils in a variety of ways to commemorate his victory, earn the gratitude of the people, and build his political capital: he might display manubiae in his triumph and/or use it to adorn temples, buildings or victory monuments, or the spoils could be sold off to fund public works (such as temples) and other beneficia (such as games), or the general could donate a portion of the manubiae directly to the treasury. Manubiae could also be shared out to the soldiers. Most notably, it was customary for a general who was awarded a triumph to pay those soldiers who participated in the procession a donative; this was a second cash pay-out, separate from and in addition to the praeda that was collected by or shared out to the soldiers while on campaign. Similar to the distribution of praeda, triumphal donatives were paid to both Roman and allied Italian soldiers – and usually in equal amounts – at least in those instances when Italian soldiers participated along with Roman soldiers in a triumph.7 I will return to this point later in this chapter. When spoils comprised items other than cash or bullion – for example, works of art, livestock, or slaves – they were often sold off in the province and thus converted to cash soon after they had been captured. Considering just the years 200 to 100 BCE, literary sources attest to twenty-one examples of the management of spoils on the battle­field; in fourteen of these instances at least some of the spoils (usually captives)

5 6 7

For example, Shatzman (1972; 1975). Churchill (1999); see Rosenstein (2012) 250–251. See below, n. 41.

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were sold off in the field.8 In this period, generals were often operating far from Rome, including in theatres overseas. Thus, they may have been particularly concerned about the potential logistical challenges of transporting bulky items over long distances and so inclined to keep only representative spoils or objects of extraordinary value, preferring to liquidate the remainder. This was presumably the thinking of Scipio Aemilianus after he captured Numantia: according to Appian (Hisp. 98), he reserved fifty captives for his triumph and sold the rest. Large amounts of spoils captured in the middle of a campaign also could have threatened an army’s operational efficiency. It would have been difficult to march around with works of art or captives (who themselves also needed to be fed) in the middle of a campaign, unless such spoils could be left in a secure location, such as a city controlled by the Romans. Additionally, it would have been easier to divide and distribute spoils in cash than in kind. Thus, when Cn. Manlius Vulso captured 40,000 Galatians at the Battle of Mount Olympus, he sold them to neighbouring peoples so that, according to Livy (38.23.10), he could donate cash to the treasury and divide the remainder as equally as possible among his men. Appian (Syr. 42) adds another consideration: “it was impossible to take about with him so many captives while the war was continuing”. Indeed, spoils of lesser value, such as common weapons, or weapons which were too cumbersome to carry, were sometimes sacrificed to the gods by being heaped in a pile and set on fire: for example, Cn. Manlius Vulso burned the captured arms of the Galatians in 189 BCE (Liv. 38.23.10), L. Aemilius Paullus burned captured Greek arms except for bronze shields in 167 BCE (Liv. 45.33.1–2), and L. Mummius burned everything taken from the Lusitanians that his men could not carry in 153 BCE (App. Hisp. 57). III The Movement of Spoils to and through Italy Yet, as is well known, enormous spoils – including not only cash and precious metals but also bulky items like statues and works of art, and enslaved captives occasionally in very large numbers – were indeed brought back to Rome. Coudry counts sixty occurrences of spoils of any type conveyed to Rome in the Republican period reported explicitly in literary or epigraphic sources, of which thirty-seven instances are dated between 200 and 100 BCE.9 These explicit references surely represent only a fraction of the total number of movements of spoils from the provinces to Rome. The reports of spoils, especially those associated with triumphal notices, are often strikingly detailed and give the impression that the Romans were concerned with accurate and meticulous accounting – or at least with projecting this ideal.10 The sources are far less 8 9 10

Coudry (2009b) 68–70, with references. Coudry (2009b) 71–79, with references. Kleinman (2018) 72–80.

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interested, however, in detailing the actual process of transporting spoils from the field to Rome, an operation that (as will be discussed below) must have entailed the relatively frequent passage of spoils through Italy. Nevertheless, a few key examples are suggestive. In 194 BCE, the proconsul T. Quinctius Flamininus returned to Rome after conducting highly successful and lucrative wars against Philip V of Macedon and Nabis of Sparta. In fact, Flamininus amassed so many spoils that the triumph he was awarded required an unprecedented three days to celebrate.11 I would like to call attention to Livy’s narrative of the lead-up to this triumph: After he had conducted his review of Thessaly, Flamininus came through Epirus to Oricum, the point from which he was to make his crossing. From Oricum all his troops were transported to Brundisium. Then they came through the whole of Italy to the city, nearly marching in a triumphal procession, the line of captured goods before the general being no shorter than his own column of men. Arriving in Rome, Quinctius was granted an audience with the senate outside the city so he could give an account of his achievements, and after that he was readily accorded a truly deserved triumph by the well-pleased senators. [Loeb translation, modified]12

Thus, according to Livy, Flamininus crossed to Brundisium and then proceeded with his entire army overland to Rome, and he describes the movement in triumphal terms: the train of spoils was driven in front of the soldiers, who are described as nearly marching in triumph (prope triumphantes). Livy’s description implies that this extraordinary haul of spoils was displayed along the entire route. Whether or not Flamininus actually staged a triumph-like march through Italy from Brundisium to Rome is a matter of contention. I argue elsewhere that we should take Livy at his word, and that Flamininus orchestrated a carefully choreographed performance through Italy.13 Nevertheless, Flamininus’ movement of troops and spoils from Brundisium to Rome certainly reminded Livy (or his sources) of a triumphal procession. It probably struck onlookers the same way, for presumably Flamininus would have expected his return march through Italy to attract big crowds, and he may have designed the procession with that goal precisely in mind. Indeed, this was the response

11 12

13

Flamininus’ stunning triumph is widely commented on in ancient sources: Liv. 34.52.1–12; Plut. Flam. 13.5–14.2; see also Cic. 2 Verr. 4.129, Mur. 31, Pis. 61; Plut. Mor. 197B; Val. Max. 5.2.6; Oros. 4.20.2; Eutrop. 4.2.2; Just. 31.3.2; Euseb. Chron. 243; Fasti Triumphales (Degrassi 1954: 97). Liv. 34.52.1–3: Ita cum percensuisset Thessaliam, per Epirum Oricum, unde erat traiecturus, venit. ab Orico copiae omnes Brundisium transportatae; inde per totam Italiam ad urbem prope triumphantes non minore agmine rerum captarum quam suo prae se acto venerunt. postquam Romam ventum est, senatus extra urbem Quinctio ad res gestas edisserendas datus est, triumphusque meritus ab lubentibus decretus. Fronda (2020) 173–174.

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that P. Cornelius Scipio Africanus received in 201 BCE when he returned from Africa to Rome to celebrate a triumph: When peace had been secured by land and sea, Scipio embarked his army and crossed over to Lilybaeum in Sicily. Then after sending a large part of the army by sea, he himself, making his way through Italy, which was exulting in peace no less than in the victory, while not cities only poured out to do him honour, but crowds of rustics also were blocking the roads, reached Rome and rode into the city in the most distinguished of all triumphs. He brought into the treasury one hundred and twenty-three thousand pounds’ weight of silver. [Loeb translation]14

In this case, Scipio divided his army, sending the bulk of his force to Rome by ship while proceeding overland with a smaller body of troops. We do not know where Scipio landed. Livy’s per Italiam may be an exaggeration, and Scipio instead could have landed farther north – perhaps at Puteoli,15 before heading to Rome. A straightforward reading of Livy implies, however, that his passage through Italy was extensive, suggesting perhaps that he landed at Rhegium. In this case, Scipio would have travelled north following the line of the future road that connected Rhegium to Capua,16 and then along the Via Appia to Rome. It is clear that Scipio was accompanied by some of his army; less certain is whether Scipio also brought some spoils with him per Italiam, or if this was shipped to Rome directly with the majority of his army. Perhaps Scipio divided the spoils, reserving some items for display during his overland return march to amplify the performance. This seems to have been how L. Aemilius Paullus organized his spectacular return to Rome in 167 BCE. Paullus reportedly sponsored elaborate games in Amphipolis to celebrate his victories, which he advertised widely in Greece.17 The Greek audience was amazed not only at the games and other performances, however, but also by the enormous spoils taken from Macedon that Paullus put on display, before he loaded them onto the fleet under the command of Cn. Octavius for passage to Italy (Liv. 45.33.3–7). Paullus next oversaw the systematic sack of Epirus; these spoils were sold, and the profits distributed to his soldiers (Liv. 45.34.2–6). Then he transferred his army from Oricum to Brundisium, whence they travelled – presumably by land – to

14

15 16 17

Liv. 30.45.1–3: Pace terra marique parta, exercitu in naves inposito, in Siciliam Lilybaeum traiecit. Inde magna parte militum navibus missa ipse per laetam pace non minus quam victoria Italiam, effusis non urbibus modo ad habendos honores, sed agrestium etiam turba obsidente vias, Romam pervenit triumphoque omnium clarissimo urbem est invectus. Argenti tulit in aerarium pondo centum viginti tria milia. See also Plb. 16.23.1–7; App. Pun. 65–67. Suggested in the notes of Moore’s Loeb translation. The identity of this road, either the Via Popilia or Via Annia, is disputed: Wiseman (1970). Liv. 45.32.8–11; Diod. Sic. 31.8.9; Plut. Aem. 28.7.

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Rome.18 Paullus himself, meanwhile, sailed around Italy to Rome; at some point in the journey he boarded King Perseus’ flagship, which was decorated with spoils, such as captured Macedonian arms and royal tapestries. On his approach to Rome, Paullus sailed slowly up the Tiber River, a sight that amazed the onlooking crowds who poured out of the city and lined the riverbank to catch a glimpse of the passing spectacle.19 According to Livy (45.35.1–2), Paullus came to Rome a few days after the arrival of, first, the royal prisoners (the kings Perseus and Gentius and their children) and, second, the bulk of Macedonian captives. They had probably travelled overland along with Paullus’ army from Brundisium to Rome.20 The main train of spoils also probably came overland with the army. Diodorus Siculus (31.8.10–12) reports that Paullus’ triumph included more than 1,500 wagons of captured weapons and shields, in addition to hundreds of litters to carry gold and other items, which gives some idea of the potential length of the train of spoils that weaved its way across Italy, assuming it was shipped overland. It is possible, however, that some of the spoils were conveyed by ship, arriving either with Paullus or a few days later when Octavius and L. Anicius Gallus’ fleets showed up. In either case, it is clear that the return of the aspiring triumphator, his army, and the war spoils that he had in tow attracted and amazed crowds of spectators outside the city of Rome.21 Indeed, in terms reminiscent of Livy’s description of Flamininus’ march through Italy, Plutarch (Aem. 30.3) alludes to the triumphal character of Paullus’ return up the Tiber: “the Romans actually came in throngs from out the city, as it were to some spectacle of a triumphant procession whose pleasures they were enjoying in advance” [Loeb, modified]. It can be assumed that several as-

18 19 20

21

Liv. 45.34.7–8; Plut. Aem. 30.1; Diod. Sic. 31.11.1. For the army disembarking at Brundisium: Briscoe (2012) 724. Liv. 45.35.3; Plut. Aem. 30.2–3. According to Liv. 45.35.4, the legates Anicius and Octavius arrived with the fleet. Since the royal captives arrived at Rome first, ahead of both Paullus and Anicius and Octavius, they and their guards appear to have travelled separately and thus probably by land. Assuming that Paullus’ army disembarked at Brundisium, the most sensible reconstruction is that the royal hostages and the army, and probably most of the main train of spoils, travelled from Brundisium to Rome by land either together or in detachments. Meanwhile, Paullus first and then Anicius and Octavius sailed around Italy. Cato the Younger appears to have tried to imitate L. Aemilius Paullus’ triumphal performance, by approaching Rome on a royal ship sailing up the Tiber, with adoring crowds lining the shores to greet him (Plut. Cat. Min. 39.1–2). Interestingly, Plutarch indicates that Cato brought his entire haul to Rome by ship, going to extraordinary – even comical – lengths to minimize the risk of losing any plunder to shipwreck (Cat. Min. 38. 1–2). The anecdote is meant to demonstrate Cato’s scrupulousness, but it also underscores the dangers of shipping valuable cargo by sea. This suggests, perhaps, that generals may have preferred to off-load spoils as soon as possible upon crossing from Greece (e. g. in Brundisium), even though the overland transport would have been much more time-consuming. See also Vell. Pat. 1.13.4, reporting that L. Mummius contracted private merchants to transport plundered art from Corinth to Italy, threatening that they would have to replace any works that were lost in transit.

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pects of Paullus’ reditus, starting with the display of spoils in the province, were staged specifically to elicit such reaction.22 Taken together, these three examples point to the performative potential of a successful general’s return to Rome.23 All three generals orchestrated elaborate, procession-like approaches to Rome which attracted large crowds of spectators, including those living outside the city.24 In two of the cases (Flamininus and Paullus) we are told explicitly that spoils captured in the provinces were displayed en route through at least part of Italy, effectively functioning as triumph-like celebrations beyond the confines of Rome. We can speculate that Scipio, too, showed off at least some loot as he travelled through adoring crowds from Africa to Rome. To be sure, the spectacular reditus of Scipio, Flamininus and Paullus were particularly pompous. Nevertheless, any Roman army returning from a successful war would have presented a triumphal appearance, especially when laden with spoils. Such victorious armies passed through Italy with regularity during the second century.25 There were in total eighty-four triumphal celebrations in Rome between 200 and 100 BCE, including triumphs, ovations, naval triumphs and triumphs on the Alban Mount.26 This implies the return of as many as eighty-four triumphatores from the provinces to Rome, usually (though not always) accompanied by troops and usually (though not always) carrying spoils. This total does not include occasions when a successful general returned to Rome with spoils but was not awarded a triumph, such as Lucius Stertinius in 196 BCE, who funded a series of monumental victory arches (Liv. 33.27.3–4), or Lucius Cornelius Scipio in 191 BCE, whose spoils sponsored ten days of games (Liv. 36.36.1–2), or Marcus Claudius Marcellus, who deposited the equivalent of one million sesterces of silver and an additional sum of gold into the treasury in 168 BCE (Liv. 45.4.1). Keep in mind, too, that spoils may have been sent back to 22

23 24

25 26

The pageantry of both the departures and returns of Roman commanders is discussed by Sumi (2005) esp. 35–41, for an overview. For a brief survey of the theological significance of the victorious return or arrival of a Roman commander, especially in the late Republic, see Luke (2014) 14–27. The Republican triumphal return foreshadowed the imperial adventus ceremony, which celebrated an emperor’s formal arrival to a city, and which invoked triumphal imagery. The adventus ceremony continued into Late Antiquity: see McCormick (1986) 17–61. See Sumi (2005) 36–38. It is worth noting that four of the five known examples of triumphs celebrated in monte Albano occurred in roughly the same chronological period, in 231, 211, 197 and 172: C. Papirius Maso in 231: Val. Max. 3.6.5; Plin. HN 15.126. M. Claudius Marcellus in 211: Liv. 26.21.1–10. Q. Minucius Rufus in 197: Liv. 33.23.3, 8–9. C. Cicereius in 172: Liv. 42.21.6–7. While the Alban Mount triumphs are often interpreted as a sort of protest by generals, they nevertheless underscore the creativity of generals in this period in staging successful returns outside of the formal triumph in Rome, including displays in front of a non-Roman audience. The fifth Alban Mount triumph was celebrated by C. Julius Caesar in 44, in a very different context than discussed here. For triumphs on the Alban Mount, see Lange (2014); see also Lange (2015). This is especially true for the first third of the second century (200–166 BCE) when triumphs were celebrated at their highest frequency in the Republican period: Rich (2014) 207. Following Itgenshorst (2005).

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Rome in stages or partial shipments. For example, as we have seen, L. Aemilius Paullus arrived in Rome on Perseus’ captured flagship decked out with some spoils a few days after his royal captives (and presumably the main train of spoils) had arrived. Similarly, L. Aemilius Papus, discussed at the beginning of this chapter, conveyed spoils to Rome in at least three shipments. It is true that not every general returned to Rome in the second century with dazzling piles of loot: Flamininus’ and Paullus’ hauls were very much the exception rather than the rule, while a few triumphs were noted for their modesty.27 Yet the sources’ emphasis on their modesty suggests that more opulent triumphs with lots of spoils were the norm. If we consider broader patterns, the large number of triumphs characterized by the display of captives and spoils, plus additional cases of spoils not associated with triumphs that were donated to the treasury or used to fund projects, indicate that Roman armies drove trains of spoils through the peninsula with some frequency in the second century. All such armies would, I suggest, have presented a triumphal appearance, as onlookers could gaze at the columns of soldiers, carts and wagons loaded with plunder, as well as a train of captives destined for slavery,28 and it is easy to imagine, even a modestly successful army coming back to Rome might inspire triumphal connotations. The surviving list of triumphs and ovations in the second century allows us to speculate on the potential return routes and thus approximate the overall movement of spoils through Italy.29 Starting with Flamininus, there were twenty-three triumphs over enemies in the East (e. g. Macedon, Asia, Thrace, Dalmatia, Illyria). Subsequent generals probably followed Flamininus’ lead by landing in Brundisium and marching to Rome following the Via Appia, though they may have – like L. Aemilius Paullus – sailed with some or all of their troops and plunder around the peninsula, putting in at various ports along the way. There were five triumphs over peoples in North Africa or in Sicily. These armies probably followed Scipio’s example: landing at Rhegium or maybe Puteoli before continuing overland to Rome. Seven triumphs were celebrated 27

28

29

Examples of modest triumphs: L. Furius Purpureo deposited 320,000 asses of bronze and 5,000 silver coins in the treasury, but his triumphal procession featured no captives or spoils (Liv. 31.49.2–3); Gnaeus Octavius’ triumph lacked captives and spoils (Liv. 45.42.2–3); L. Anicius’ triumph over Gentius suffered by comparison to L. Aemilius Paullus’, celebrated only shortly before (Liv. 45.43.1–8). General discussion: Rich (2014) 230–231. For an excellent discussion of spoils in the triumphal procession and their significance, see Östenberg (2009). She notes how the ancient sources stress that captured arms and weapons displayed in a triumph were generally transported on wagons in “heaps seemingly at random” (p. 24) rather than organized neatly according to types. Plutarch (Aem. 32.5–8) famously describes how the Macedonian arms in L. Aemilius Paullus’ triumph were piled in such a way that they clashed against each other, and the sight and sound terrified the crowd. It is likely that such captured weapons were similarly transported to Rome, heaped on wagons and thus visible to onlookers and with comparable effect. The following calculations are based on the chronological list of triumphs in Itgenshorst (2005) 433–435. See also Rich in this volume.

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over Celtic groups in north-central Italy or around the Veneto, including the Insubres, Cenomani, Boii, Salassi, Carni and Iapudes, against whom C. Sempronius Tuditanus campaigned using Aquileia as a base. These armies likely returned to Rome by the same route as the later Via Aemilia to Bononia or Ariminum (if the campaigns were more in the central-northern area); if the campaigns were more to the north-east, they probably returned by way of the Via Annia to Bononia and then along the Via Cassia, or they may have continued down the coast to Ariminum and then proceeded to Rome by the Via Flaminia. A staggering forty-five triumphs were celebrated over peoples in Liguria, Transalpine Gaul or the Spanish provinces.30 These generals may have returned overland the entire way, or they may have travelled by ship until probably Pisa and then proceeded from Pisa to Rome by way of the coast (along what would become the Via Aurelia) or along the inland route (the line of the Via Cassia) – though again, it is possible that some may have continued onwards by ship directly to Ostia. In addition, there were five triumphs over Sardinia or Corsica; these armies also presumably landed in Italy north of Rome and followed the coastal path to the city. These routes are shown on Map 1: the thickness of the lines indicates the relative frequency of the movement of spoils along the respective overland routes. Important ports where fleets may have put in are also noted. It must be admitted that several of the roads mentioned in the foregoing paragraph and indicated on the map were not constructed until relatively late in the period that I am discussing.31 Yet surely Roman roads in the Republican period often followed the course of pre-existing roads, paths or natural lines of communication.32 Thus the routes indicated on the map, following the lines of later Roman roads, reflect more or less the overland routes available through Italy to returning armies. It must be stressed, too, that this map is largely impressionistic. I do not claim that the frequency indicated reflects absolute statistical precision. It is often difficult to determine, especially for campaigns fought against the Liguri30 31

32

A single triumph over the Balearic island peoples in 121 BCE is included among this total. Following Wiseman (1970): e. g. the Via Aemilia was extended from Ariminum to Placentia in 187 BCE, the Via Annia from Bononia to Padua and then Aquileia was built in 153 BCE, the second Via Annia (or second Via Popilia) from Rhegium to Capua was built in 132 BCE at the earliest, the Via Popilia (or first Via Popilia) from Ariminum along the coast to Aquileia was built in 131 BCE, and the Via Aurelia was extended as far as Pisa only in 107 BCE. On the confusion between the Via Annia (or Viae Anniae) and the Via Popilia (or Viae Popiliae), see Wiseman (1964) and Wiseman (1969). The actual names of the roads are not so important for my purposes here, only that roads were eventually constructed along these routes. For example, Wiseman (1970) 136–137, dates the construction of the southern portion of the Via Cassia between Arretium and Rome to 154 BCE, arguing that previously Roman armies could have used Etruscan roads for movements south of Arretium. Likewise, even if we accept a high date for the construction of the Via Aurelia between Rome and Cosa (as early as 241 BCE), the road likely did not reach Pisa until 107 BC: Wiseman (1970) 134. Yet there must have been some pre-existing coastal road between Pisa and Rome, since, as we saw with Polybius’ account of the movement of Roman troops before the battle of Telamon, the army travelled along the coast from Pisa to Telamon, in the vicinity of Cosa.

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Map 1: Routes of returning Roman armies and locations of Roman and Italian manubial construction and dedications. Map courtesy of the USMA, Department of History. Used with permission.

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ans and Gauls, where exactly the tribes were located, which impacts the likely return routes taken by the successful general and his army. Likewise, as already indicated, we do not know for certain whether returning generals travelled by land or by sea, or (if returning by sea) how far they remained on ships until disembarking. Given the great risks associated with sea transport, I suspect that many generals would have preferred to offload valuable cargo as soon as possible, though this cannot be proven.33 We do not know if an army’s return was fragmented and staggered as in the case of L. Aemilius Paullus’ reditus. Nevertheless, the geographic distribution of Roman campaigns and of the peoples over whom they celebrated triumphs allows us to consider in broad terms the relative importance of the main routes along which returning generals – and the armies and spoils – travelled through Italy to Rome. If my assumptions are correct, then second-century Italy was the backdrop for regular “processions” of soldiers and spoils that criss-crossed the peninsula following major lines of communications in Italy: the paths of actual or future Roman roads. These “processions” passed not only through Roman territory, but necessarily travelled through allied lands – through communities of socii (especially in the far north and south of the peninsula) and perhaps more importantly past Latin colonies. Lastly, these “processions” would have been viewed by large crowds; indeed, the conquering generals probably anticipated crowds and so took steps, such as displaying spoils, to awe them. The communities that were situated along these major routes – whether the inhabitants possessed Roman, Latin or allied status – would have provided the audiences for these de facto displays of spoils that were performed whenever a conquering Roman army returned from the field. IV Displays of Spoils in Rome and the Italian Audience War spoils were widely and prominently displayed throughout the city of Rome, whether adorning public spaces or decorating the outside of private homes.34 Roman inscriptions recording the dedication of spoils often conform to a formulaic pattern,

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See above, n. 21. It is striking that the sources preserve no reports – as far as I am aware – of spoils lost at sea. For the outside of Roman houses decorated with war spoils: Plb. 6.39.10; Liv. 10.7.9, 38.43.10; Plin. HN 35.7; see Rawson (1990). While it is usually stressed that aristocratic houses were decorated with war spoils, Polybius indicates that common soldiers, too, adorned their (presumably much humbler) houses with spoils. Pliny famously claims that spoils fixed to the outside of houses were not allowed to be removed even if the house was sold, so that the “houses triumphed forever although the owners had changed” (triumphabantque etiam dominis mutatis aeternae domus). Pliny’s striking language highlights the performative quality of the display of spoils on houses, which (in his view) re-enacted the triumphs associated with the spoils.

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suggesting a regularity of practice.35 Indirectly spoils were used to fund a variety of public works.36 The massive influx of war profits in the second century triggered a boom in “triumphal” construction, including temples, victory arches, and other public beneficia such as games and festivals.37 The display of spoils was also a critical component in the quintessential Roman martial celebration: the triumph. The main audience for these commemorations was Rome’s urban population, but it is worth noting that non-Romans likely often constituted part of the viewing audience even within the city. Considerable numbers of citizens of Latin communities had migrated to Rome and taken up residence there by the early second century, as the famous expulsions of Latins in 187 and 177 suggest.38 Besides those residing in Rome, other Latini would have been present in Rome on a shorter-term basis, and would have engaged with the spoils of war which the Roman armies brought home. For example, in 198 BCE, Rome was shaken by a major slave revolt in Latium.39 Carthaginian aristocratic hostages from the Second Punic War were being held in several towns in Latium. The hostages quartered in Setia stirred up a slave rebellion initially among the household slaves who attended them, but the rebellion spread also to rural slaves. The slave population in Setia, according to Livy (32.26.6) was swollen from a large number of captives from the recent war with Hannibal who had been purchased ex praeda. Some of them presumably had been brought to Rome by Scipio and formed part of his lavish triumphal parade in 201, after which they would have been auctioned. If so, then people from Setia and other nearby Latin communities probably came to Rome to take advantage of the sale. Some of them would have been present for the triumph, whether coincidentally or because they arrived purposefully to watch the celebration. Given the frequency of triumphs in the second century, this surely was not an unusual set of circumstances. People with Latin rights were also present at the triumph of C. Cornelius Cethegus in 197 BCE. Cethegus successfully defended the Latin colonies of Cremona and Placentia from a Gallic siege, and he also reportedly freed a number of colonists who

35

36 37 38

39

The general making the spoils dedication is usually given in the nominative followed by the place captured in the ablative and the verb cepi(t), giving the formula: “(the general) took (this spoil) from (that place.)”. For example: CIL I2 25, 608, 613, 615, 616, 622. The first is the Duilius inscription, dating to 260 BCE, though probably reinscribed under Augustus; the last five date between 211 and 167 BCE. In these cases, the inscriptions sometimes mention that the benefaction was paid for ex/de praeda/ manubiis/spoliis or a similar formula. For example: CIL I2 25, 35; CIL VI 40330, 40959, 41024; Liv. 41.28.8–9. Orlin (1997) 116–161, 199–202; Rosenstein (2012b) 246–247; Popkin (2016) 49–58, 187–195; Fronda (2020) 174–175; see also Davies (2017) 75–146, esp. 110–130. Expulsions: Liv. 39.3.4–6 (187 BCE), 41.9.9–12 (177 BCE); the two episodes are discussed at length by Coşkun (2009) 160–191. Broadhead (2002) esp. 33–43, argues that the occasional references in Livy and other literary sources most probably underrepresent the levels of internal migration (i. e. of populations within Italy) in the second century BCE. Liv. 32.26.4–18; Zon. 9.26.

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had been captured and enslaved by the Gauls (Liv. 32.23.1–2). Livy tells us that representatives from the Latin colonies Cremona and Placentia came to Rome to support Cethegus’ triumphal petition. In addition, a large number of colonists then marched in the triumphal procession, walking behind Cethegus’ chariot wearing a pileum (the soft cap traditionally worn by freedmen) in recognition of Cethegus’ role as their liberator (33.23.4–9).40 We can plausibly speculate that other Latins also formed part of the triumphal audience. We know, too, that Latin and allied soldiers (Latini et socii) sometimes marched in triumphal processions in Rome. Literary sources record six instances (all between 187 and 167 BCE) of triumphal generals distributing triumphal donatives or military awards to both Roman and allied troops in Rome, which implies that these allies took part in the subsequent triumphs.41 The case of C. Claudius Pulcher in 177 BCE is the most striking: when he distributed donatives to his soldiers, Pulcher infamously gave his allied troops only a half share compared to the full shares distributed to Roman soldiers. To show their displeasure the allied soldiers followed Pulcher’s triumphal chariot in silence and thus put a damper on the celebration, indicating clearly that these non-Roman soldiers marched in the procession (and also that they expected an equal share of the spoils). Indeed, in all other recorded instances, equal shares and honours were given to Roman and allied soldiers alike. When allied soldiers marched in a triumph, they not only witnessed, but also took part in this charged display of spoils. On these occasions, perhaps friends or relatives, too, turned out to see them march in the procession, especially if their hometowns were not very distant from Rome, thus augmenting the non-Roman audience. The triumph was an excellent venue for displaying war spoils to a wide audience. The evidence presented above hints at what I think must have been a fairly regular occurrence: that non-Romans were present in Rome when triumphs took place, whether in town on business, or intent on watching the spectacle, or to participate in some aspect of the celebration, and thus comprised part of the audience.42 I have argued elsewhere that allied soldiers began to be included in Roman triumphal processions only in the early second century (when the literary sources first attest the practice), or that their participation in the ritual increased in frequency and visibility at this time; either way, this was a distinct development that must be understood in 40

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Freed captives wearing the pileum were reported walking in the triumphs of Scipio Africanus (Liv. 30.45.5; 5.2.5; Plut. Mor. 196e; Cass. Dio fr. 57.86) and T. Quinctius Flamininus (Liv. 34.50.1–7, 34.52.12; Plut. Flam. 13.4–6, Mor. 197b; Val. Max. 5.2.6; Diod. Sic. 28.13); see also Weinstock (1971) 135–136. M. Fulvius Nobilior in 187 BCE (Liv. 39.5.13–17; Gell. NA 5.6.24–26), Q. Fulvius Flaccus in 180 BCE (Liv. 40.43.4–7), Tib. Sempronius Gracchus in 178 BCE (Liv. 41.7.1–3), L. Postumius Albinus in 178 BCE (Liv. 41.7.1–3), C. Claudius Pulcher in 177 BCE (Liv. 41.13.6–8) and L. Anicius in 167 BCE (Liv. 45.43.1–8). Also Broadhead (2002).

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the context of the increased intensity of Roman-Italian allied interactions in the generation following the war with Hannibal.43 The widening and deepening of personal, diplomatic, political, business and other connections in the second century between Roman and Italian communities – and between Roman and Italian elites on a personal level – presumably resulted in Italian visitors in Rome in a variety of capacities, providing frequent opportunities for them to gaze on the various victory monuments in public spaces in Rome, as well as on the spoils displayed on the exterior of Roman houses (as discussed above).44 Indeed, such interactions would have created opportunities for “private” displays of spoils within Roman aristocratic houses.45 Thus, even in Rome, the message(s) conveyed by the display of spoils – the link between Roman martial success and benefaction – would be communicated to a broader “Italian” audience. V Roman Displays of Spoils in Italian Spaces At the same time, in the early second century, we also see Roman aristocrats funding projects outside of Rome, not only in municipia in Latium or beyond, but also in Latin or allied communities throughout the peninsula. The evidence for this phenomenon is preserved in both the literary and epigraphic records. In 192 BCE, L. Quinctius Flamininus made a dedication in Praeneste of spoils that he had taken in Leucas when serving as legate under his brother in 197 BCE.46 In 189 BCE, Marcus Fulvius Nobilior dedicated spoils from Ambracia in Rome; he also dedicated spoils from Aetolia in Tusculum.47 According to Livy, M. Aemilius Lepidus (censor in 179 BCE) built a mole at Terracina, where he owned property (Liv. 40.51.1–2), and Aulus Postumius Albinus and Quintus Fulvius Flaccus (censors in 174 BCE) sponsored several public works: walls at Calatia and Auximum and shops around the forum of each town, temples of Jupiter at Pisaurum, Fundi, and (possibly) Potentia, an aqueduct at Potentia, and paved streets, sewers, a colonnade and statues at Pisaurum and Sinuessa (41.27.10–12).48 These censorial projects were likely funded from spoils captured during the censors’ successful campaigns during prior magistracies, and presum43

See Fronda (2020) 181–189. For increased Roman-Italian interactions in the second century, see also Fronda (2010) 316–320; Fronda (2011); Patterson (2006b; 2012); Roselaar (2012a); see also the various chapters in Hölkeskamp, Karataş & Roth (2019). 44 See n. 34. 45 Liv. 42.1.10 implies that Italian elites frequently visited Rome and lodged in the houses of their aristocrat hospites. For the use of spoils to adorn the inside of Roman aristocratic houses, see Welch (2006). 46 CIL I2 613: [L. Quinctius T. f. Le]ucado cepit | [eidem conso]l dedit. Inscribed on a column capital with abacus found at Praeneste. 47 CIL I2 615: M. Folvius M. f. | Ser. n. Nobilior | cos. Ambracia | cepit (Rome), CIL I2 616: M. Folvius M. f. | Ser. N. Nobilior | cos. Aetolia cepit (Tusculum). 48 On this difficult passage, see Briscoe (2012) 137–145.

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ably advertised their victories in some way through these constructions.49 M’. Acilius Glabrio set up statues in the Roman colony of Luna that he had taken as spoils from Heraklea and Skarphea during his consulship in 191 BCE; the dedications were made presumably in or near 177 BCE when the colony was founded.50 C. Lucretius Gallus, praetor in 170 BCE, used spoils to build an aqueduct and decorate a shrine to Asclepius in Antium.51 In 155 BCE, the consul M. Claudius Marcellus set up a dedication in the Latin colony of Luca, presumably to commemorate his successful defence of the colony against the Ligurians. We can surmise that this was financed out of spoils from the campaign. The dedicatory inscription was located on a base, which probably supported a statue, though it possibly could have been used to display war spoils.52 Various literary sources attest that Scipio Aemilianus took statues and other artwork from the sack of Carthage in 146 BCE, which he claimed the Carthaginians had previously looted from Sicilian cities, and restored them to the communities to which they purportedly once belonged.53 An inscription found at Marruvium in the territory of the Marsi indicates that Scipio also dedicated spoils in Italy outside of Rome.54 It is worth noting that Marruvium was an allied community, not a Latin colony or a Roman municipium. This perhaps hints at a wider distribution of Carthaginian spoils in Italy, also suggested by Eutropius’ claim (4.12) that Aemilianus restored spoils to cities (civitates) in Sicily, Italy and Africa. Aemilianus’ actions perhaps inspired his rival L. Mummius (consul in 146 BCE), whose own dedicatory program is the most spectacular known example of a Roman

49

See Roy (2017) 31–32, on these censors’ building programs in Rome and the likely triumphal associations. 50 One statue base found at Luna in 1952: M.’ Acilius C. f. | cos. | Scarpea cepi, see Inglieri (1952). In 1989 another statue base was found: M.’ Acilius C. f. | cos. | Heraclea cepi, see Angeli Bertinelli (1993) and Celani (1998) 52–53. It is sometimes assumed that Glabrio had died before 181 BCE, since Livy reports that in that year the temple of Pietas, which Glabrio had vowed, was dedicated by his son. Thus, it is argued that Glabrio’s dedications in Luna must have been made posthumously by his veterans: Inglieri (1952) 24; or that the dedications were made at an earlier date when the port of Pisa was being used by the Romans but before the colony was officially founded in 177 BC: Coarelli (1985–87) 25–27; (1997) 450; Angeli Bertinelli (1993) 22; see also Yarrow (2006) 68. However, Bloy (1998–99) argues that there is insufficient evidence to assume that Glabrio had died before 177 BCE, and thus it is most likely that he was personally responsible for the dedications. The long gap between the capture of the spoils in 191 BCE and its dedication in 177 BCE would not be unprecedented. 51 Liv. 43.4.6–8: the construction cost 130,000 asses, according to Livy – a relatively modest sum. 52 CIL I2 623: M Claudius M f Marcelus | consol iterum. Note that the inscription lacks the formulaic “cepit” found in spoils dedications, which may speak against the monument as a spoils display. 53 Cic. Leg. 2.51, 2 Verr. 1.11, 2.2.85–86; Liv. Per. 51, Diod. Sic. 13.90.5, 32.25; Vell. Pat. 1.12.5, 2.4.2–3, 1.38.2 (?); Val. Max. 5.1.6–7; Plut. Mor. 97D, 200B; App. Pun. 133; Eutrop. 4.12. See Pfuntner in this volume. 54 CIL I2 625 (CIL IX 6348 = ILLRP 326 = ILS 67): Corneli(us) | Scipio | Catha(gine) | capta. On the date of the inscription, see Patterson (2006b) 146.

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display of spoils outside of Rome.55 Literary sources report that Mummius took paintings and statues from the sack of Corinth and distributed them throughout Italy.56 This is confirmed by dedicatory inscriptions found in Rome, Parma, Nursia, Trebula Mutuesca, Cures (all municipia possessing Roman citizenship), Fregellae (a Latin colony) and Pompeii (an allied town),57 in addition to dedications found in the Greek East and (possibly) Spain.58 The Pompeian example is particularly interesting, since the dedicatory inscription was written in Oscan.59 Yarrow argues that Mummius’ dedications in Italy represent a striking, almost unprecedented action, albeit one that fits within a broader “noteworthy development” of the second century: “the initiative taken by commanders to forge positive reputations among allied communities.”60 I agree, in part. The willingness of Roman generals to advertise their victories through spoils dedications and other triumphal building reflects a salient development in Roman-Italian relations in the second century. Yet we should not underestimate the significance of the earlier precedents discussed above. In my view, this development started long before Mummius, though Mummius’ activity surely represents a much more fully realized manifestation.61 One last example fits this trajectory. In 129 BCE, the consul C. Sempronius Tuditanus commemorated his campaigns in the vicinity of Aquileia, recording his deeds on a stone pedestal found in the colony.62 The long dedicatory inscription mentions his

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The rivalry between Aemilianus and Mummius is implicit in the ancient sources: e. g. Vell. Pat. 1.13.2–5; Cass. Dio 22.76.1. For discussion of the rivalry, see now Kleinman (2018) 172–177; see also Yarrow (2006) 58–60; Cadario (2014) 93–94 (arguing that Mummius emulated Aemilianus). 56 Cic. 2 Verr. 1.55; Off. 2.76; Liv. Per. 52; Frontin. Strat. 4.3.15; Plin. HN 34.36; Vir. Ill. 63.3; see also Strab. 8.6.23; see Yarrow (2006) 61; Tarpin (2009) 92. 57 Mummius dedications in Italy: CIL I2 626, 627a, 627b, 628, 629, 630; Bizzarri (1973); Imag. It. Campania/Pompei 1. 58 Greece: IG IV 1183, V2 77, VII 433, 2478a, 1808, 2478; SEG XXV 541; Philipp & Koenigs (1979); Spain: CIL I2 630 (though the reading is contested). 59 l(úvkis). mummis. l(úvkieís). kúsúl (right to left). For discussion, see Pobjoy (2007) 54–55; Imag. It., pp. 615–616. 60 Yarrow (2006) 68. 61 For even earlier examples, if historical: Liv. 10.46.8 reports that the consul L. Papirius Cursor (293 BCE) distributed Samnite spoils to allies and neighboring colonies (sociis coloniisque finitimis), where they were used to adorn temples and public spaces; Suetonius (Tib. 2) mentions that Claudius Drusus, probably the consul in 268 BCE, had set up a statue of himself wearing a crown in Forum Appii (about 70 km southeast of Rome along the Via Appia), an obvious effort at self-promotion outside of Rome’s urban centre. Indeed, Suetonius claims that Claudius Drusus tried to take over Italy through his clients (per clientelas), hinting perhaps at a program by Drusus to build support from the rural population through acts of local munificence and self-promotion. On the early cooperation between Roman and “Italian” elites, see Terrenato (2019). Location of Forum Appii: Tol, De Haas, Armstrong & Attema (2014). 62 CIL I2 652: [C(aius) Sempronius C(ai) f(ilius) C(ai) n(epos) Tuditanus co(n)s(ul)] | – – – – – – | [descende]re et Tauriscos C[arnosque et Liburnos] | [ex montib]us coactos m[aritimas ad oras] | [diebus te]r quineis qua[ter ibei super]avit | [castreis] signeis consi[lieis prorut]os Tuditanus | [ita Roma]e egit triump(h)u[m aedem hic] dedit Timavo | [sacra pat]ria ei restitu[it et magist]reis tradit.

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gift of a temple to a local river god, Timavus, and the establishment of magistrates to oversee the cult, all surely paid for out of spoils from the campaigns mentioned in the dedication. Interestingly, the inscription also mentions Tuditanus’ triumph celebrated in Rome. This dedication, therefore, calls attention not only to the general’s local benefaction but also his metropolitan honour. Thus Tuditanus’ dedication fully integrates Rome and the distant colony as a single “theatre of power,” to use Hölkeskamp’s term.63 Beginning in the second century, it seems, spoils from Roman victories began to be used for manubial activities outside of Rome, whether to fund constructions or set up dedicatory and commemorative displays. This appears to have been most prominent in Roman and Latin communities, but it also occurred occasionally in allied cities, as the examples of Mummius’ dedication in Pompeii and Aemilianus’ in Marruvium both attest. The spatial distribution of these dedications is worth noting, as the known examples were located mostly along major lines of communication such as Roman roads (see Map 1). This is not surprising, as these communities had more frequent and closer connections – personal, economic, even political – to Rome. This also matches my previous discussion of the way spoils were displayed in “processions” along the major roadways of Italy. Taken together, these various activities and commemorations constituted a powerful geography, as such dedications (along with the very movement of plunder through Italy) commemorated Roman victories and communicated not only the individual glory of Roman aristocrats but also the corporate power of the Roman state to local Italian audiences. VI Conclusions: Italian Displays of Spoils To close, I would like to consider the use and display of spoils by the “Italians” themselves. As mentioned above, when allied soldiers marched in a Roman triumph, they usually received the same cash donative from the general as their Roman counterparts. References to triumphal donatives indicate that centurions typically received twice the amount and cavalrymen three times the amount that common soldiers received.64 Since Italian soldiers came to expect the same triumphal donatives as their Roman counterparts, presumably the same ratios held for Italian officers and cavalry troopers. More generally, allied soldiers appear to have had equal access to war spoils distributed in the field (which at least in theory were to be divided equally among all soldiers). We can speculate, however, that Italian elites such as members of the allied cavalry or those with close personal connections to the Roman commander or his staff, may have been able to leverage their access to gain additional war profits. Assuming that Italian and

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Hölkeskamp (2011). Coudry (2009b) 71–79 for references.

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Roman elites shared a similar martial ethos and therefore would have sought to commemorate their military achievements through triumphal building, the movement of spoils in many instances must have culminated in local Italian dedications and manubial-type constructions in their own communities, similar to (albeit on a smaller scale than) what occurred in Rome. Given the increased influx of war profits into Italy in the second century, we should expect to see a take-off of this sort of activity in Italy that mirrors the Roman context. Crawford has speculated that the Roman military was the primary mechanism for the distribution of Roman silver coinage throughout Italy in the second and into the first centuries BCE. In his brief study of Roman silver coin hoards in Italy with terminal dates between c. 150 and 90 BCE, Crawford suggests that the distribution of hoards maps onto those areas whose populations served more often in armies that fought for Rome (see Map 2).65 If Crawford’s speculation is correct, this widespread distribution of (largely second-­ century) Roman coinage, located most densely in central Italy, represents the movement of war spoils to Italian communities through cash pay-outs by Roman generals to socii et Latinii.66 At the same time, there was a massive boom in construction in Italy in the second century; this is attested not only by archaeological evidence but also by the robust epigraphical record, including many of the more than one thousand ­Oscan inscriptions in the three volumes of Imagines Italicae. Much of this archaeological and epi­graphic activity was, I speculate, fuelled by war spoils that moved from the ­provinces to Italian towns directly (i. e. brought back by Italian soldiers) or by way of Rome (i. e. distributed by triumphatores to allied soldiers, as cash gifts to local elites, or as donations to local communities to fund public works). One very famous late fourth-early third century inscription provides perhaps the most explicit evidence for this dynamic: a small bronze plate found in the Fucine Lake containing an inscription written in a hybrid of Latin and Marsic that records a dedication of spoils taken by the Marsic commander Caso Cantouio(s); the dedication was made on his behalf by his “allies” or “companions” (socie) who formed part of the Marsic levy (“legions,” lecionibus).67 The context is clearly martial, and the use of ceipet

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Crawford (1991). Socii et Latini did not receive the stipendium. If this silver coinage is to be linked to Roman military service, it must have been distributed as spoils in the provinces or as triumphal donatives or other cash gifts. CIL I2 5 (= ILLRP 5 = AE 1991 [1994] no. 567): Caso Cantouio | Aprufclano ce{i}- | p(et) apud finem | Calicom en ur-| bid Ca[1–2]ontoni / a | socieque dono- | m atolere Anctia | pro l[ecio]nibus Mar-| tses (written right to left/left to right in alternating lines). “Caso Cantouius of Aproficulum captured (this) by the finis Gallicus in the city of Caiontonia (?), and his socii brought it as a gift to Angitia on behalf of the Marsic legiones.” Reading and translation follow Crawford (unpublished manuscript). The inscription, now lost, is dated c. 300 BCE.

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Map 2: Hoards of Roman coins in peninsular Italy between 146 and 91 BCE; data based on Crawford (1991) 136 (Fig. 1). Map courtesy of the USMA, Department of History. Used with permission.

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(cepit, “he took [this]”) mirrors the formula used in Roman “praeda inscriptions” discussed above.68 For the second century, epigraphic evidence is more circumstantial. To be sure, many of the second-century Oscan inscriptions in Imagines Italicae are dedicatory in nature, which hints at the kinds of dedications and donations that are usually associated with Roman manubial activities. I will highlight a few particular examples that appear to have clearer potential connections to spoils dedications (located on Map 1). First, there is a small bronze tablet from the area of the Paeligni, inscribed in Oscan, dated c. 200–125 BCE. The tablet lists the names of several individuals and records their dedication to the Sons of Jupiter.69 The sons of Jupiter – the Dioscuri, Castor and Pollux – were martial deities who provided aid in battle. They were depicted riding horses and were thus associated with the cavalry.70 The tablet could, then, indicate a small dedication to the gods by a group of cavalrymen, possibly paid for by spoils. A second example comes from Paelignian territory: a pair of inscriptions on a stele that has tenons on the bottom for a base and on the top for a capital, dated to the middle of the second century BCE.71 The inscriptions were made by a father and son. The first (Text A) refers to a gift made to Hercules, the second (Text B) records a dedication to Hercules Victor. The latter text suggests a martial context; the missing capital presumably served as a platform on which the dedication (possibly spoils?) was displayed. The third example comes from Cumae: it is a limestone base with Oscan inscription tentatively dated to the early second century, that records the dedication of a statue to Jupiter by the meddix of the vereia on behalf of the vereia.72 The meaning of the term vereia is obscure and widely debated, though it probably has a military connotation, referring either to elites serving in the cavalry or possibly to a generic military institu-

68

69 70 71 72

Several fourth-century BCE tombs excavated in southern Campania and northern Lucania, concentrated in the vicinity of ancient Paestum, are decorated with paintings that depict the motif of a returning warrior on horseback being greeted by a woman (presumably his wife), and carrying war spoils: a tunic, belt or shield or some combination of the three items. The iconography suggests the importance of war spoils as a currency of martial valour and excellence for the peoples of these regions. Similarly, archaeological evidence from Pietrabbondante indicates the practice of displaying spoils in Samnium – namely weapons and armour, including many pieces with nail holes, presumably because the pieces had been displayed on a wall or post. See Burns (2003). Imag. It. Paeligni/Sulmo 2: st(atis). ponties | n(?). pontis | u. alpis | tr(ebis). apidis | iouiois | puclois ssta>ti>ens (“St. Pontius, N. Pontius, V. Alpius, Tr. Apidius set up (this) to the sons of Jupiter”) (now lost). See Scheer & Ley (2006). In Rome, the Dioscuri were linked to the transvectio, the annual parade of Roman equites that took place on 15 July. Imag. It. Paeligni/Superaequum 3: (Text A) sa(luio). seio. l. f | herclei. donom | ded(ed). brat(eis). datas. (“Sa. Seius son of L. gave as a gift to Hercules, for favor granted”). (text B) l[.] seio. sa(lui). f | herclei | victurei | vacat (L. Seius son of Sa. to Hercules Victor”). Imag. It. Campania/Cumae 4: [10–12 n]iú(msieís). m(eddís) v(?). ínim. m(?) X | v ekik: se[g] únúm: iúveí: flagiúí | v pr(u): vereiiad: duneís: dedens | vacat (“[-?-] son of N., meddix of the vereia (?) and the m. X, gave this statue to Jupiter Flagius by way of gift on behalf of the vereia”).

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tion.73 Thus, this may be a dedication by the meddix (presumably the commander) of the local cavalry – perhaps fulfilling a vow or in gratitude for a successful campaign. It is tempting to interpret these and other similar inscriptions as dedications made in a martial context and to link them to the influx of spoils in the second century and the importance of spoils either as objects of display or for the funding of manubial monuments. Furthermore, excavations at Fregellae have produced fragments friezes from three different houses, all showing martial themes: battles, shields, trophies, captives and Victory are all depicted. Coarelli has argued that the friezes date to the early second century BCE and are connected specifically to Rome’s war against Antiochus III,74 in which soldiers from Fregellae reportedly fought (Liv. 37.34.6). Regardless of the exact interpretation, the friezes do indicate that martial themes were utilized to decorate aristocratic houses in Fregellae – and presumably in other communities in Italy – in ways reminiscent of Roman practices. My argument in this section has been largely impressionistic to be sure, and these examples are not meant to be taken as necessarily representative. Nevertheless, the geographic distribution is suggestive, as the epigraphic and art historical evidence discussed above are located in areas where the Romans recruited heavily or were well connected to Rome along the main lines of communication discussed earlier in the chapter. In particular the peoples of the ancient Abruzzo – including the Marsi, ­Paeligni, Marrucini, and Vestini – were known as formidable fighters who appear in the sources displaying great martial virtue in service of Rome.75 It has been argued that military service represented an especially important economic activity for the Marsi, since significant Roman land confiscations in the late fourth century deprived them of key agricultural and pastoral resources.76 Thus, the disadvantageous conditions created by Roman conquest encouraged the Marsi, perhaps ironically, to fight more willingly for Rome in subsequent generations. In any case, more regular recruitment by Rome meant that peoples such as the Marsi would have had more frequent access to spoils, which could then be used for “local” martial dedications. At the same time, they may have been more receptive to the variety of martial displays considered in this chapter, such as participation in Roman triumphs, observing the movement of troops and spoils in triumph-like processions through their territory, and the setting-up of spoils as commemorations. The Oscan dedications as well as the Fregellan friezes look, therefore, like “Italian” martial displays that followed practices seen in Rome. I am not claiming that allied 73

74 75 76

For discussion and bibliography, see Imag. It. pp. 24–26. Of note is another vereia inscription: Imag. It. Lucania/Metapontum 1. It is a dedication in Greek alphabet inscribed on a bronze Chalcidean helmet in the name of the Metapontine vereia under the office of a meddix, dated c. 400–375 BCE. The helmet was surely war spoils that was dedicated by the vereia. Coarelli (1992b); see also Welch (2006) 108–112. For example, Liv. 33.36.10; Plut. Aem. 20; App. BC 1.46; Strab. 5.4.2. Schlange-Schöningen (2006).

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communities were simply copying what they saw the Romans doing – that would be an oversimplification conjuring up rather outmoded understandings of “Romanization.” Rather, such activities represent a “local” manifestation of a broader elite martial value system that expressed itself forcefully in the second century both in Rome and throughout the peninsula. Yet this value system was, by the second century, deeply bound up with Rome’s hegemony in Italy and beyond, and so, I suggest, these local expressions indicate on some level the internalizing of an ideology that assumed Roman military and political authority. That Tuditanus, for example, chose to advertise his triumph in Aquileia, says a great deal, I think, about Roman claims and Italian acceptance (willing or not) of Roman military and political supremacy throughout Italy. This has profound implications for our understanding of the formation of Roman Italy and the eventual integration of the peninsula, of which political integration (complete only after the Social War) was but one aspect. Michael P. Fronda McGill University [email protected]

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Warfare was a common occurrence in the Ancient World, and the Roman Republic was no exception in this regard. Rome was, however, exceptionally successful in its military endeavours, which led to the conquest of the Italian Peninsula and the historically unique creation of a Mediterranean empire. The origins and motifs for this were complex and many-faceted, but there can be little doubt that the material rewards of military aggression played a central role in driving and maintaining annual warfare. Scholarship tends to interpret spoils in the context of a positive-sum game that allowed for the diffusion of social

ISBN 978-3-515-13369-2

9

78 3 5 15 13 3 6 9 2

problems and the stabilisation of the Roman political system through the distribution of surplus resources. However, spoils regularly caused unrest and dissatisfaction, which suggests a more complex impact on Roman politics and society. This volume therefore investigates the socio-political, economic, and cultural impacts of spoils on the city of Rome and Roman Italy in order to gain a better understanding of the crucial role that externally acquired resources played in the context of Roman Republican expansion in the Mediterranean.

www.steiner-verlag.de Franz Steiner Verlag