Gregorovius, sort of

I’ve been remiss about posting here; I’ll try to do better this year. I’ve added all kinds of things that haven’t been reported here, the most important of which are Cicero’s De Finibus, ps‑Aristotle’s Mechanica, Asclepiodotus and the much more interesting Onasander in English translations; Manetho in both English and Greek.

But a few weeks ago, my friend Susan Rhoads (she of Elfinspell, known to many who will be reading this as one of the richer sites on medieval Italy and 19c American literature) sent me a nice Christmas gift: so by last night, just in time for Christmas, I’m sharing it rather than hogging it for myself. The complete book, Latian Summers, by Dorothea Roberts, is now online. It’s her translation of about ⅕ of Gregorovius’ Wanderjahre in Italien: as her title indicates, the Lazio parts, although not absolutely complete. The translation is flawed, but nothing that can’t be corrected; I’ve also added about a hundred notes of my own, especially to her last chapter, which is an excursion Gregorovius made thru Umbria, a region I know well. I’ve also added 9 GoogleMaps and three photographs, the most handsome of which is one taken by Jona in the Museo di Villa Borghese. Enjoy!

Improved Beyond Repair

I always felt that physical fitness was something to avoid.

Bagacum (Bavay)

The Basilica

I visited Bavay in northern France several years ago, returning from Saulzoir, where Julius Caesar had once defeated the Nervii. The ruins of Bavay were something of a bonus after a day that had been very well-spent, and we were not in a particular hurry. So, we were too late to see the exhibition, but could take some photos of the forum and the basilica. They were impressive, which comes as no surprise, as Bagacum, as it was called, was some kind of showcase of Roman power.

Although I still hope to see the exhibition, some information is already available here.

Mikulov, Regional Museum

Tile with stamp of X Gemina from Mušov.

Mikulov is just north of the Austrian-Czech border. It is dominated by a beautiful castle on a mountain, in which you will find several museums, one of them dedicated to the archaeological evidence for the presence of Romans and Germans in southern Moravia. It is not a very large exhibition – in fact, it consists of only three rooms.

Still, it is worth a brief detour. Situated some seventy kilometer north of the Danube, this region never belonged to the Roman Empire, but it is undeniable that the people living here were dominated by their powerful southern neighbor. So, the numismatic display contains coins of almost every emperor, proving that trade between the Marcomanni and the Romans was very important.

Occasionally, the Germanic tribes living in Bohemia, the Marcomanni and the Quadi, attacked the Roman Empire. The emperor Marcus Aurelius was even forced to retaliate, and fought a long war in this area. The base of the Tenth Legion Gemina has been found near Mušov. There has been some debate about the question whether the Romans intended to create provinces north of the Danube, but the fact that locally made roof tiles have been found is, in my view, conclusive evidence that the Romans were not just having their winter quarters north of the river, but were building permanent barracks.

Mušov is also the place where a local Germanic chieftain was buried. In his tomb, a large treasure was found, which is now shown in the last room of the Mikulov museum. The objects themselves are not extremely special, but there are very many of them, proving that this man was really important.

I was glad to have visited the museum. Next to the castle is Mikulov’s central square, where we had lunch. After that, we went to the Oberleiserberg, a Celtic oppidum in northern Austria that was later reused by the Bavarians, and returned to Vienna. It had been a nice day.

J.D. Grainger, The Syrian Wars

If you read this review to see whether a book is sufficiently good to buy it, read no further: John Grainger’s The Syrian Wars is a good book. It is even an important book, and if I will appear to be very critical, this is because it is worth criticizing.

The nine Syrian Wars, waged between the Seleucid and Ptolemaic Empires over the possession of Coele Syria, are a neglected subject. There were few battles to attract the historians’ attention, but more importantly: Rome was at the same time uniting the Mediterranean, a process that was to have more lasting consequences than the eastern wars. Grainger, however, succeeds in showing that the Syrian Wars deserve more attention. He stresses that the conflict was central to the growth of the governmental system of two Hellenistic states, which he calls ‘competitive development’.

On which foundation does he build his thesis? On written sources and coins, of course, which he treats with great care. However, this also means that The Syrian Wars is essentially a N=1 study, which might be refuted easily. As Grainger indicates, any part of his reconstruction can be challenged by the discovery of new texts. If this happens several times, it will be fatal to his thesis.

When empirical foundations are weak, students of most disciplines invoke comparisons. When they do not have sufficient evidence to build a firm structure, it is useful to tie it to more solid objects. This is why historians of Antiquity are inevitably forced to compare their reconstructions to reconstructions of comparable processes in other pre-industrial societies.

Fortunately, the necessary parallels exist. Competitive development is hardly unique; historians and sociologists have often shown that state formation is usually a consequence of a prolonged military conflict. Tilly’s Coercion, Capital, and European States (1990) is a modern classic. If Grainger had referred to it, his book would have been more convincing, because its thesis would be based on more than one example. N=10 is better than N=1.

The need for comparisons is even greater, because Grainger appears to be unaware of a lot of recent literature. The new sources that might challenge parts of his reconstruction, have in fact already been published. For instance, Grainger’s dates of the Second Diadoch War are based on Manni’s ‘low chronology’ (1949), not on Tom Boiy’s little gem Between High and Low (2007). The relevant new sources are ostraca and cuneiform texts.

Occasionally, Grainger is unaware of new readings of well-known texts. It is strange to see how he antedates the Antigonid invasions of Babylonia to 311, and presents Ptolemy’s naval expedition to the Aegean in 309 as a trick to lure Antigonus away from the eastern theater of war. This leaves the reader with a sense of confusion, because one would expect the two operations to be more or less simultaneous. Fortunately, the problem is only apparent: the Chronicle of the Diadochs (= Babylonian Chronicle 10) dates the Babylonian War to 310/309. Grainger knows the source, but ignores recent scholarship.

This can also be said of his treatment of the reign of Antiochus IV. Fortunately, his treatment resembles Mittag’s beautiful Antiochos IV (2006). Both authors show that the king pursued a policy that is far more rational than the authors of the ancient sources are willing to admit.

Another omission is the set of twenty texts known as the Babylonian Chronicles of the Hellenistic Period. The evidence was known for some time already (seven of these texts were already included in Grayson’s Assyrian and Babylonian Chronicles, 1975). Several statements of Grainger’s are directly contradicted by BCHP. For example, Grayson says that we do not know where crown prince Antiochus was when his father Seleucus Nicator was assassinated. He settles for Ecbatana, but Chronicles BCHP 5, 6, and 7 suggest that the crown prince often resided in Babylon. (Disclosure: I am involved in the publication, preparing the online editions that scholars use to discuss these chronicles.)

Grainger’s discussion of the Third Syrian War ignores BCHP 11, a chronicle that not only proves that the Egyptians captured Babylon, but also offers interesting details about the fights. After an unsuccessful siege of Seleucia-on-the-Euphrates, Ptolemaic heavy infantry (‘ironclad Macedonians who are not scared of the gods’, according to the chronicler) attacked Babylon, which held out twelve days until it fell on January 20. The citadel remained in the hands of its Seleucid garrison, however, and early in February, the commander of Seleucia tried to lift the blockade. He was defeated and the Seleucid troops who had remained in Seleucia, were massacred. We do not know what happened next, but this is important information. Grainger, unaware of this first-rate source, concludes ‘that Ptolemy crossed the Euphrates but did not reach Babylon’.

The real problem, however, is not that Grainger ignores useful comparisons and recent scholarship. The study of ancient societies is complex, no one can know everything, and scholars cannot even establish what they do not know. Ancient history is the discipline of the unknown unknowns. To fill the lacunas in the knowledge of their writers, publishers have boards of editors. If Grainger is unaware of the existence of BCHP – which is, like so many cuneiform resources, only available online – it is the editors’ task to help. This time, however, the board has been sleeping, which may also explain the unusually great number of typos and the unusually poor maps.

All this should not distract us, however, from the simple fact that Grainger has written an important book that no student of Hellenistic institutions or military history can afford to ignore. With a more energetic board of editors, it might have been a good book, but still, Grainger has achieved his aim: to prove that the continuing conflict forced two Hellenistic states ‘to undertake measures to strengthen themselves internally, financially, militarily, politically, by alliances, and by recruiting manpower, so that they could face yet another war which both sides came to anticipate’.

[Originally published in Ancient Warfare]

Velsen

There’s no particular reason to put online this drawing by Graham Sumner, except for the best reason of all: that I like it. What you see is the Roman naval base at Velsen, just west of Amsterdam, which was in use during the reign of the emperor Tiberius. It is almost certainly identical to the fort named Flevum mentioned by Tacitus. You can read more about it here, or in Edge of Empire.

Viminacium

Explaining the gate of the legionary base

The ancient city of Viminacium is situated at the place where the river Mlava empties itself into the Danube. This means that here, three important roads came together: the road upstream along the Danube to Pannonia and the Adriatic Sea, the road downstream to Moesia and the Black Sea, and the road along the Mlava to Naissus and the Aegean Sea.

It comes as no surprise that in Roman times, a legion, VII Claudia, occupied the city, while subunits of IIII Flavia and V Macedonica must have been stationed here as well. It would seem that Trajan used this place as his headquarters for the invasion of Dacia.

Today, there’s a big quarry, which is slowly “eating” the ruins. As is customary, the organization that destroys an archaeological site, has to pay for the excavation, and this means that Viminacium is now being excavated at a truly grand scale. It measures 450 hectares. A necropolis has already been investigated: there were no less than 13,000 tombs.

If you visit the place today, you can see the remains of an amphitheater (currently excavated with some American help), the northern gate of the legionary base, a bathhouse, and a mausoleum. Now this was really something! The pretty large tomb was the final resting place of a young man, and an older woman has been buried close to him, in a separate tomb within the enclosure. It has been assumed that these were the tombs of one of the sons of Decius, Herennius, and of Herennia Etruscilla. If this identification is correct, it’s the first time that archaeologists have found the actual physical remains of a Roman emperor.

The so-called “Mona Lisa”

If you visit the place, a guide can show two underground tombs, both Christian, with very special paintings. You must not be claustrophobic, because the very low corridor is deep underground. Nevertheless, this visit is certainly recommended, if only because here you can see a beautiful portrait of a woman, called the Mona Lisa.

Viminacium is, from Belgrade, an easy drive to the east. It takes about an hour an a half. There are many road signs and you cannot possibly miss the place. The finds from the necropolis, and other finds as well, are now in the three room museum of nearby Požarevac. We found it closed, perhaps because it was lunch time, but when we stayed in the garden to admire the nice tombs, someone arrived and opened the door. (If there’s one thing I learned during my visit to Serbia, it’s how very kind the Serbians are.)

Generally speaking, I think Viminacium is going to be a very, very important site, comparable to Xanten, Carnuntum, or Aquincum. There’s already a hotel for visiting scholars and scientists, and I expect this to become a real meeting place for visitors from all countries. I am really looking forward to returning to Viminacium every now and then, every time seeing how new things have been excavated.

The official website is here, my webpage is there.