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Anna Komnene’s Curious 11th And 12th Century Stereotypes About Other Peoples And Groups That Came In Contact With The Imperial City Of Constantinople

Anna Komnene (c. 1083-1153) was a princess from the dwindling realm of the Eastern Roman Empire (also known at this stage of history as the Byzantine Empire), centering around Greece and the imperial capital of Constantinople. Anna was the daughter of the successful usurper and competent emperor, Alexios Komnenos (r. 1081–1118), who led the struggling realm against Norman incursions from the west and nomadic attacks from the north, while also defending against Islamic forces encroaching from the south and east. Around the same time, he was also negotiating with rowdy armies of international crusaders marching through his lands. Anna Komnene watched all of these events transpire from the safety of Constantinople, protected by its famous walls. The princess did not squander her regal position and privilege, with all of the resources and educational access that it provided—instead, she became a well-educated woman, keeping herself up to date with history, current events, philosophy and theology, as well as pseudo-sciences such as astrology and divination. Her intellectual pursuits culminated in The Alexiad, a biography and history that Anna Komnene wrote about the reign of her father, Emperor Alexios. The Alexiad is an admirable historical text and a great amount of valuable information can be gleaned from its enjoyable pages. Yet, for the purpose of this article, we are going to take a look at instances when Anna Komnene unleashed her inner Roman princess, letting slip curious remarks about foreign peoples and groups that interacted with the empire of Constantinople. Many of these comments were written in the formula of “such is the way of [insert group of people],” followed by an often-amusing stereotype or generalization about whoever Anna was describing.

Perhaps Anna Komene’s comments about crusaders would be a decent place to start. To this, we can also add groups of people that the Roman princess loosely described as Latins and Kelts, referring to Normans, Italians, French and other peoples who were involved in the First Crusade. Incredible numbers of these armed pilgrims marched through Anna Komnene’s homeland, and the spectacle left a great impression on the princess. She wrote, “Full of enthusiasm and ardour they thronged every highway, and with these warriors came a host of civilians, outnumbering the sand of the seashore or the stars of heaven, carrying palms and bearing crosses on their shoulders. There were women and children, too, who had left their own countries. Like tributaries joining a river from all directions they streamed toward us in full force, mostly through Dacia” (Anna Komnene, The Alexiad, X.5). As the leadership figures from among the crusaders made contact with Emperor Alexios’ court, Anna Komnene was able to become acquainted with a large number of European noblemen, but she evidently had trouble pronouncing and remembering the names of many of these foreigners. She did make note of and record the names of the most famous leading lords commanding the crusader armies, but she gave up on trying to remember the names of lower officers. The exasperated princess wrote, “For all my desire to name their leaders, I prefer not to do so. The words fail me, partly through my inability to make the unpronounceable barbaric sounds and partly because I am put off by just how many of them there were. In any case, why should I try to list the names of so enormous a multitude, when even their contemporaries became indifferent at the sight of them?” (Anna Komnene, The Alexiad, X.10).

As was said earlier, Anna Komnene labeled many of the crusaders as Latins or Kelts. Although the princess often used these designations interchangeably, she seemed to use the word “Latins” more often, usually referring to the forces and allies of the Norman lords, Robert Guiscard and Bohemond, who launched attacks against Emperor Alexios’ realm from Italy. On these so-called Latins, Anna Komnene wrote, “As I have said before, the Latin race at all times is unusually greedy for wealth, but when it plans to invade a country, neither reason nor force can restrain it” (The Alexiad, X.6). Additionally, as there was a rivalry between the popes of Rome and Constantinople’s own ecclesiastical patriarch, it naturally followed that Anna Komnene was biased against the religious beliefs of the so-called Latins. The pro-Constantinople princess wrote, “The Latin customs with regard to priests differ from ours. We are bidden by canon law and the teaching of the Gospel, ‘Touch not, grumble not, attack not—for thou art consecrated.’ But the barbarian Latin will at the same time handle sacred objects, fasten a shield to his left arm and grasp a spear in his right…Thus this barbarian race is no less devoted to religion than to war” (Anna Komnene, The Alexiad, X.8). As for Anna Komnene’s label of Kelts, she did not lambast or stereotype this group as often as the Latins. Nevertheless, she did write one of her longest generalizing descriptions while discussing “Keltic” crusaders. She wrote:

“The truth is that the Keltic race, among other characteristics, combines an independent spirit and imprudence, not to mention an absolute refusal to cultivate a disciplined art of warfare; when fighting and warfare are imminent, inspired by passion they are irresistible, evident not only in the rank and file, but in their leaders too, charging into the midst of the enemy’s line with overwhelming abandon—provided that the opposition everywhere gives ground; but if their foes chance to lay ambushes with soldier-like skill and if they meet them in a systematic manner, all their boldness vanishes. Generally speaking, Kelts are indomitable in the opening cavalry charge, but afterwards, because of the weight of their armour and their own passionate nature and recklessness, it is actually very easy to defeat them” (Anna Komnene, The Alexiad, XI.6).

Readers may have noticed in some of Anna Komnene’s previous quotes that she had a habit of referring to foreigners as barbaric or barbarians. There are many more quotes from Anna’s text in which she whips out the barbarian label while talking about various peoples and groups that interacted with her father’s realm. By today’s standards, her dialogue concerning “barbarians” is inconsiderate and insensitive, yet these statements are also some of her more amusing comments. A few choice examples are as follows. For one, Anna Komnene wrote, “That is the way of all the barbarians: their mouths gape wide for gifts and money, but they have no intention whatever of doing the things for which the money is offered” (The Alexiad, XIV.2). She also claimed, “barbarians are arrogant by nature, with their heads almost in the clouds” (Anna Komnene, The Alexiad, XV.6). Speaking of violence, the Roman princess wrote, “Such is every barbarian—constantly lusting after massacre and war” (The Alexiad, IX.3). Lastly, in one final jab, Anna Komnene wrote: “The truth is, all barbarians are usually fickle and by nature are unable to keep their pledges” (The Alexiad, VII.6).

In addition to the crusaders, Latins, Kelts and barbarians, Anna Komnene also took time to critique mankind, in general. Speaking of medieval slavery and serfdom, Anna Komnene commented, “It is a fact that slaves are in any case by nature hostile to their masters, but if they cannot strike at them, they seize the chance to become intolerable to one another” (The Alexiad, II.4). She had more to say about the flip-flopping ways of the masses and the carousel of ambitious individuals vying for power. Concerning the changing whims of mankind, Anna Komnene wrote, “weak-minded folk are quite unstable, moving with the current, first one way, then another, like Euripos” (The Alexiad, II.3). Expanding on this belief, the Roman princess later wrote, “Such is the way of men—today they cheer, escort, treat with honour, but once they see the fortunes of life reversed, they act in the opposite manner, without a blush” (Anna Komnene, The Alexiad, IX.9). On the potential leaders (in this case a so-called Kelt) trying to sway the impressionable masses, Anna wrote, “That is typical of the Kelts: they are inconsistent, changing to opposite extremes in the twinkling of an eye. You can see one and the same man boasting that he will shake the world and the very next minute cringing prostrate in the dust—and this is even more likely to happen when they meet stronger characters” (The Alexiad, XIII.10). Curiously, that quote addressing a supposed Kelt was actually about the Norman nobleman, Bohemond, and his chaotic back-and-forth relationship with Emperor Alexios.

It should be pointed out that all of the quotes listed above have been cherrypicked for entertainment value; they do not represent Anna Komnene’s views, as a whole, but only represent one small aspect of the Roman princess’ tone and character, devoid of fifteen chapters-worth of context from her complete text. The awkward quotes about fickle and greedy barbarians are outnumbered and outweighed by Anna Komnene’s many passages containing sage advice and wisdom that is still applicable to this day. That aside, at least by this writer’s judgment, there is still some entertainment to be found in reading a Roman princess’ critiques of supposed barbarians.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Pedestal of the Obelisk of Tuthmosis III in Constantinople, by Melchior Lorck (c. 1526 – 1583), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Statens Museum for Kunst).

 

Sources:

  • The Alexiad by Anna Komnene, translated by E. R. A. Sewter. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.

Latona And Peasants, By An Unknown 16th Century Artist

This artwork, created between 1585 and 1590 by an unknown artist influenced by Annibale Carracci (1560–1609), was inspired by a mythological tale concerning the divine family of Latona (known as Leto to the Greeks). She was the mother of the twin deities, Apollo and Diana (aka Artemis), who are depicted as newborns in the painting. The father of the children was the mighty arch-god, Jupiter (or Zeus), but as he was already married to the wrathful queen goddess Juno (or Hera), Leto decided to go into hiding with her newborns to keep them away from Jupiter’s jealous wife. This brings us to Latona’s encounter with the Lycian peasants. As the story goes, wearied Latona reached a certain small marshy lake in Lycia not long after she gave birth to her twins. She was understandably tired and irritable at this point, and she desperately wanted to drink a handful or two of water from the pond. Nevertheless, local farmers—the so-called Lycian peasants—did not react kindly to the appearance of the mysterious woman with her twin babies. When Latona began trying to drink some of the water, the locals started to heckle her and some went so far as to stomp and splash in the water, making it too muddy to drink. Prior to this rude display from the locals, Latona had evidently been concealing her divine nature (she and her children were in hiding, after all), but the behavior of the Lycian peasants ultimately caused the goddess to lash out with her godly powers. As narrated by the Roman poet, Ovid (43 BCE-17 CE):

“[The Lycian peasants] even disturbed the water itself
with their hands and feet, and spitefully stirred the soft and swirling
mud right up from the bottom by jumping wildly about.
Latona’s anger made her forget her thirst for the moment.
She refused to humble herself any longer before these louts
or to plead any more for kindness in such an ungoddesslike manner.
She raised her hands to the heavens and cried, ‘May you live in your filthy
pool for ever!’ Her prayer was answered.

[E]ven today they continue to wag
their tongues in loud and unseemly arguments; shameless as ever,
although they are under the water, they’ll try to indulge in abuse.
Their voices too have gone hoarse; their throats are inflated and swollen;
their noisy quarrels have stretched their jaws to a hideous width.
Their shoulders rise to their heads as their necks appear to have vanished;
their backs are green, while their huge protruding bellies are white.
They leap about in the muddy pool transmuted to frogs.’”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, book 6, approximately lines 363-381)

It is this ancient tale of Latona being confronted by the Lycian peasants that the artwork re-creates. Latona and her children can be seen by a tree at the water’s edge, where several rude men block the goddess’ access to the pond. The artwork must depict the myth at the beginning of the story, as the peasants have not yet been transformed into frogs by the annoyed deity. Ironically for the Lycian peasants, although being turned into frogs is not a pleasant fate, they might also be counted as lucky that they got off with such a light punishment after slighting Latona. Especially after Apollo and Diana grew up, Latona and her children proved to be an incredibly wrathful and brutal trio.

 

Written by C. Keith Hansley

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Aeschylus

Aeschylus (c. 525-456 BCE)

“[R]adiant dreams are passing in the night,
the memories throb with sorrow, joy with pain…
it is pain to dream and see desires
slip through the arms,
a vision lost for ever
winging down the moving drifts of sleep.”

  • From Aeschylus’ Agamemnon (approximately lines 420-425), translated by Robert Fagles. New York: Penguin Classics, 1979.

Pliny The Younger’s Speak-For-Itself Speech Advice

A man named Vettenius Severus was elected as a consul of Rome around the time that Emperor Trajan (r. 98-117) completed his campaign against Dacia in the year 106. As Vettenius Severus was expected to give a victory speech after becoming consul-elect, he decided to reach out to the prominent lawyer and statesman, Pliny the Younger (c. 61/62-113), who had previously served as consul back in the year 100. Vettenius Severus, in particular, wanted advice on how emperor-centered his election victory speech should be, specifically on the question of how much, or little, praise to Emperor Trajan would be proper in such a speech.

Pliny the Younger, for his part, seemed to advise against hollow flattery. In his return letter to Vettenius Severus, Pliny wrote that Trajan was not the kind of man who expected or would appreciate flattery in a consul’s election speech. Quite the opposite, gratuitous adulation seemed to be out of fashion due to the recent memory of imperial tyrants—such as Caligula, Nero and Domitian—who had been overly-flattered in their lifetime, only to have their reputations demolished after their deaths. Less was more, according to Pliny, and although Emperor Trajan was an impressive and virtuous figure on his own, his character could be left to speak for itself, without flattery. On this speech advice, Pliny wrote:

“You ask me to consider what tribute you should pay the Emperor in your speech as consul-elect. His virtues provide abundant material, so that it is easy enough to think of subjects but not so easy to choose between them. However, I will write and send you my opinion…I am wondering whether I ought to advise you to do as I did when I was consul-elect. I made a point of avoiding anything which looked like flattery, even if not intended as such, acting not on any principle of independence but on my knowledge of our Emperor. I realized the highest praise I could offer him was to show that I said nothing because it was expected of me. I also had in my mind the many tributes paid to the worst of his predecessors, and I felt that nothing could distinguish our noble Emperor from them so well as a different type of speech” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 6.27).

Such were the words of wisdom that Pliny the Younger sent to his colleague. After giving that advice, Pliny did concede that years had passed since he, personally, had given his own consul-elect speech to the emperor, and times and the emperor’s mentality had changed since then. Therefore, in conclusion, Pliny advised it would not harm Vettenius Severus to praise the virtue and recent military achievements of Emperor Trajan in the upcoming speech, as long as the comments were not gratuitous in their flattery.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (The Catilinarian conspirators before the Senate, illustrated by Ferdinand Max Bredt (c. 1860-1921), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the NYPL).

 

Sources:

  • The Letters of Pliny the Younger, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1963, 1969.

Study Of Composition From Roman History, By Milan Thomka Mitrovský (c. 1875–1943)

This artwork, vaguely labeled “Round Study of Composition from Roman History” and created by Milan Thomka Mitrovský (c. 1875–1943), seems to have been inspired by the ancient tale of Picus, a man of myth or legend who was said to have ruled a kingdom in Italy. Picus allegedly was one of the most handsome men of his age, and he had countless lustful admirers from both the mortal and immortal communities. Yet, of these willing women, Picus devoted himself only to one—a nymph named Cánens—and to her Picus remained steadfastly faithful.

Unfortunately for Picus, the magically-masterful goddess, Circe, was one of the many unsuccessful suitors that sought his attention. Since Picus was the handsomest man in the land, the sight of him naturally filled Circe with desire and she decided to have a go at seducing him. Calling on all of her magical knowledge and power, Circe conjured an illusory animal to lure King Picus away from any guards and attendants. She similarly summoned darkness and mist to blind Picus’ kingdom while she tried to charm the king. Nevertheless, all of Circe’s magic and planning was for naught; when the goddess revealed herself to Picus and tried to seduce him, the faithful king rejected her advances. Circe, of course, was irate after her desires were thwarted, and in her wrath, she decided to use her characteristic transformation magic to punish King Picus. The Roman poet, Ovid (c. 43 BCE-17 CE), described what happened next:

“[Circe shouted] ‘You’ll learn what a woman in love who is injured
can do; and Circe is surely an injured woman in love!’
The sorceress then turned twice to the west and twice to the east;
she struck the young king with her wand three times, and she spoke three spells.
Picus took to his heels but soon was surprised to discover
himself running faster than usual. Wings had sprung from his body!
A new type of bird had suddenly joined the forests of Latium”
(Ovid, Metamorphoses, 14.384-390)

Milan Thomka Mitrovský’s artwork likely depicts Circe after she was rejected by King Picus. In the scene, the goddess can be seen holding up a wand, which she would use in her efforts to transform Picus into a bird. Once the spell had run its course, the king would be completely metamorphosized into a woodpecker. Most shocking to the avian monarch was the new addition of a beak on his face. So the story goes, it was his hatred of (or confusion over) this new body feature that caused the kingly woodpecker to begin pecking on tree trunks.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

Lucan

Lucan (c. 39-65)

“[W]hat did their children
or their grandchildren do to deserve to be born
under a despot? Were we the cowards in battle?
Did we hide our throats? For the fear of others
the penalty sits on our necks. If you were planning
to give a master to those born after the battle.
Fortune, you should have also given them a war.”

  • From Lucan’s Civil War (Book 7, approximately line 645), translated by Matthew Fox (Penguin Classics, 2012).

Emperor Constans II’s Voyage To Sicily And The Story Of The Sicilian Colony Expedition To Damascus

In the 660s, Emperor Constans II of Constantinople (r. 641-668) relocated himself, along with a large military force, to Italy in hopes of retaking the region from Lombard and rebel control. Constans II also wanted to use Italy, especially the island of Sicily, as a new base of operations in Constantinople’s ongoing struggle against Arab expansion. Therefore, to keep an eye on both the Lombard front in the Italian Peninsula, as well as nearby Arab activity on the North African coast, Emperor Constans II decided to situate himself centrally between the two threats and place his headquarters at the Sicilian city of Syracuse. From his Syracusan base, the emperor expanded his influence outward over the island, making efforts to solidify his control over his new island stronghold before moving on to other objectives.

While overseeing this Sicilian campaign, Constans II was reportedly ruthless and tyrannical. The Lombard historian, Paul the Deacon (c. 720-799) wrote, “having entered Sicily during the seventh indiction, he dwelt in Syracuse and put such afflictions upon the people—the inhabitants and landowners of Calabria, Sicily, Africa, and Sardinia—as were never heard of before, so that even wives were separated from their husbands and children from their parents” (Paul the Deacon, History of the Lombards, 5.11). A chronicler named Theophanes (c. 750s-818) gave an alternative account of Emperor Constans’ time in Italy. Although Theophanes was a scholar from Constantinople, his descriptions of the emperor’s actions in Sicily were incredibly brief compared to Paul the Deacon’s account. Theophanes was more focused on clashes between imperial defenders and Arab invasions in the Middle East, describing these events in long detail. Between lengthy in-depth stories about the Middle-Eastern front, Theophanes would sometimes include brief updates about the emperor, such as “In this year the Emperor abandoned Constantinople and moved to Sicilian Syracuse; he wanted to transfer the capital to Rome” (Chronographia, entry for Annus Mundi 6153 [660-661 CE]) and “In this year part of Sicily was captured and, at their wish, its inhabitants were settled at Damascus” (entry for Annus Mundi 6155 [663-664 CE]).

Theophanes, unfortunately, gave no further information or contexts about the mysterious people in Sicily who were captured and sent, reportedly by their own choice, to the curious destination of Damascus. The choice of Damascus was especially intriguing, as it had been under Muslim control since the 630s and was the city used as a principal residence and administrative center by the powerful Umayyad Dynasty leader, Mu’awiya (r. 661-680). Perhaps, some of the people who decided to settle near Damascus were the individuals, mentioned by Paul the Deacon, who had been separated from their families. Whatever the case, in Theophanes’ account, Emperor Constans II was not mentioned again in the chronicle until the entry for 668, when the emperor was assassinated by dissidents at Syracuse.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Portraits of Emperor Constantine III and his son Constans II, made by Joos Gietleughen between 1557 and 1559, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Rijksmuseum).

 

Sources:

  • Theophanes, The Chronicle of Theophanes, translated by Harry Turtledove. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 1982.
  • History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.
  • The Oxford Dictionary of Late Antiquity, edited by Oliver Nicholson. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2018.

Reclining Bacchus, By An Unknown 17th-Century Artist

This painting, by an unknown 17th-Century artist, depicts the ancient god of vegetation and wine, Bacchus (to the Romans) or Dionysus (to the Greeks). Bacchus/Dionysus was presented various ways by ancient artists, and this artwork opted for the common depiction of Bacchus or Dionysus as a handsome youth, which was Rome’s preferred way to portray the god. For artists re-creating mythical scenes, the Roman poet, Ovid (c. 43 BCE-17 CE), often was the go-to inspiration for their artworks. This is likely the case, too, for the artwork featured above and other similar artworks of Bacchus. Ovid’s description of Dionysus/Bacchus in his youthful state was as follows:

“Father of revels and cries ecstatic, Mystic Iácchus,
and all the other numberless names which Liber is known by
throughout the cities of Greece. For yours indeed is unperishing
youth and eternal boyhood. You have the comeliest form
of all the gods of Olympus, a face in your hornless epiphany
fair as a virgin girl’s.”
(Ovid, Metamorphosis, 4.15-20)

Such, then, is the ancient god and his youthful description that the artist strove to reproduce in his artwork. Again, it should be said that this youthful form was not the only persona that Bacchus adopted in his travels and adventures—he was also commonly displayed as an older pot-bellied and bearded man. Most painters, however—including the creator of the artwork featured above—opted for the more aesthetic picture of youth.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

James Madison

James Madison (c. 1751-1836)

“The instability, injustice, and confusion introduced into the public councils, have, in truth, been the mortal diseases under which popular governments have everywhere perished; as they continue to be the favorite and fruitful topics from which the adversaries to liberty derive their most specious declamations.”

  • From The Federalist No. 10, by James Madison, in The Federalist Papers. Republished by the Henry Regnery Company (Chicago, Illinois, 1948).

The War Between Rome And The Privernum-Fundi Alliance In 330-329 BCE

Italy was an interesting place in the 330s BCE. The major regional powers of Rome (in central Italy) and the Samnite Federation (more toward the heel of the peninsula) were engaging in a precarious diplomatic dance at that time, sometimes being allies, and other times being neutral to each other, while also remaining hostile enough to break out into constrained wars over conflicts involving their respective allies and protectorates. Adding to the tense atmosphere was a resurgence in Greek involvement in Italy led by King Alexander of Epirus. He arrived in Italy around 334 BCE to aid the Greek colonial city of Tarentum. He campaigned on multiple fronts, battling the Samnites, as well as other enemies of Tarentum, such as the Lucanians and Bruttians. Meanwhile, Rome was expanding its influence by conquest and diplomacy. Prior to Alexander of Epirus’ death in 331 BCE, Rome had successfully campaigned against the territories of the Ausones and the Sidicini. By 330 BCE, while the Samnites were recovering after their war with Alexander of Epirus, Rome added the cities of Fabrateria and Lucania to its growing list of protectorate or subject states. Rome’s continuing growth and the Samnite Federation’s recovery put other nearby city-states, such as Privernum and Fundi, into the situation of being between the proverbial rock and a hard place. Around 330 BCE, knowing that Rome or the Samnites could likely target them soon, Privernum and Fundi banded together and evidently decided to strike first and fight on their own terms.

As Privernum had long been a foe of Rome (wars were fought between them in the 350s and 340s BCE), it is not surprising that the Privernum-Fundi alliance ended up going to war against the Romans. The leader of the underdog alliance was reportedly a man named Vitruvius Vaccus, a wealthy and renowned individual who previously had good relations with the Romans. Vitruvius’ decision to lead the alliance came at a great financial cost, for he was said to have been the owner of a luxurious and treasure-filled home on Rome’s Palatine hill. This home, unless he emerged victorious against the Romans, would be forfeited as soon as Vitruvius Vaccus led the forces of Privernum and Fundi against Rome. Nevertheless, this was a sacrifice that Vitruvius was willing to make.

Vitruvius Vaccus and the Privernum-Fundi forces began their campaign boldly and with great ambition. On this initial phase of the campaign, the Roman historian, Livy (c. 59 BCE-17 CE), wrote, “He was effecting widespread destruction in the territory of Setia, Norba, and Cora when [the Roman consul] Lucius Papirius marched out against him and took up a position not far from his camp” (Livy, History of Rome, 8.19). It is vague whether or not Vitruvius was leading a multi-prong invasion or was simply roving with one army from one region to another, but in the end, his forces were eventually intercepted and blocked by Roman troops led by Lucius Papirius.

Vitruvius Vaccus and the Privernum-Fundi forces, despite their earlier boldness, evidently reassessed the situation at this point and concluded that they could not defeat the nearby Roman forces in pitched battle. Therefore, Vitruvius switched into a defensive posture and began an orderly retreat back to Privernum. Lucius Papirius and his personal command of Romans followed Vitruvius back to Privernum, besieging the city while the opposing army was within the walls. Lucius Plautius Venox, the other Roman consul at that time, meanwhile took a separate Roman army and marched against Fundi. That region had apparently lost its nerve once news had spread that Vitruvius had been pushed back to Privernum. As a result of this wariness, the leaders of Fundi sent diplomats to make peace with the Romans before any further battles were fought. Livy, in his account, claimed that the people and leader of Fundi were forgiven by Rome. Yet, Livy also acknowledged that there were other variants of the tale in which leadership figures from Fundi were said to have been executed. Whatever the case, the region of Fundi was no longer a threat to Rome and Plautius led his army to join with Lucius Papirius’s forces at the siege of Privernum.

By ancient standards, the siege of Privernum lasted a relatively long time. Roman troops remained camped outside the hostile city into the next year, overlapping with the Roman election process. In 329 BCE, the new Roman consuls, Lucius Aemilius Mamercinus and Gaius Plautius, took power and mobilized an additional fresh army. This newly mustered force was supposedly called up in response to reports of an incoming Gallic army. Nevertheless, no Gauls appeared and the army was instead rerouted to reinforce the siege of Privernum. Whether or not the Gallic scare was real or manufactured, the additional army seemed to be just what the siege of Privernum needed, and the city fell before the end of the year. Unfortunately, exactly how the war ended was not recorded clearly in history, and even the ancient Roman historian, Livy, did not attempt to pick a side in the varying stories. He wrote, “From this point the tradition is divided. Some say that the town was taken by storm and Vitruvius was taken prisoner alive; others that before the final assault the inhabitants came out bearing a herald’s staff and gave themselves up to the consul, and that Vitruvius was handed over by his own people” (Livy, History of Rome, 8.20). Differing details aside, all the storylines agreed that Privernum ultimately was defeated by Rome and that Vitruvius Vaccus was taken alive into custody.

After the war, the walls of Privernum were torn down and Vitruvius Vaccus was transported back to Rome, where triumphal parades were thrown in celebration of the Roman victory. Unfortunately for the captured commander of the defeated Privernum-Fundi forces, he and other identified leadership figures were scheduled to serve as one of the main attractions of the festivities. As told by Livy, “Vitruvius was to be held in prison until the consul’s arrival and then be flogged and executed…Plautius had held his triumph. After this Vitruvius was executed along with his partners in crime” (Livy, History of Rome, 8.20). As for Vitruvius’ property in Rome, the wealth from his home on the Palatine hill was confiscated and then the building was demolished. As the story goes, the site of his home became a park or shrine for the Sabine god, Semo Sangus (also known as Dius Fidius)—a deity overseeing oaths. Bronze goods from Vitruvius’ estate were used to furnish a preexisting shrine of Semo Sangus that was near the temple of Quirinus in Rome.  Vitruvius’ property on the Palatine hill eventually became known as the Meadows of Vaccus.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Illustration labeled Storming of a city, by Heinrich Leutemann (c. 1824-1905), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the NYPL).

 

Sources:

  • The History of Rome (Rome and Italy) by Livy, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1982.