Lombard Ancient Psychological Warfare

According to early Lombard tradition and ancient Roman scholarly observations, the Lombards were few in number compared to many of their neighbors in Germania. The Romans apparently attributed the survival of the vulnerable Lombards to sheer aggression. Tacitus (c. 56-117+) wrote that the Lombard population was “distinguished by the fewness of their numbers. Ringed round as they are by many mighty peoples, they find safety not in obsequiousness, but in battle and its perils” (Germania, section 40). When the Lombards began writing down their own history, they agreed with the Romans that their tribe had originally been small in manpower, but aggressive in foreign policy. The Lombard sources, however, also claimed that they had a talent that helped them survive in their early days—psychological warfare.

The Lombard people, according to their tradition, migrated from Scandinavia to the Elbe River sometime before Roman scholars took interest in Germania. When the Lombards entered their new homeland, powerful tribes in the region reportedly attempted to extort tribute from the newcomers. Aggression and war, as the Romans observed, was the usual Lombard response to such foreign threats. Yet, as the Lombards were at a disadvantage in numbers, they had to be smart in planning how they fought.

According to the Origo Gentis Langobardorum and Paul the Deacon’s History of the Lombards, the tribe resorted to trickery and illusion in their very first conflict with a more populous neighbor on the Elbe. In the mythology-infused tale, the Lombard army was saved from certain defeat when they heeded the advice of the Norse-Germanic goddess, Freyja, who insisted that Lombard women accompany their men into battle. The women reportedly arranged their hair around their chins to look like long beards, and their appearance in the army made the force look much more populous. In the tale, the god, Odin, was greatly shocked by these “Long-beards” (supposedly the origin of the Lombard name), and if the All-Father of the Norse-Germanic pantheon was amazed, there is no knowing how disheartened the foes of the Lombards became when the disguised women marched into battle. Whether from divine favor or through the psychological effect of the women joining the army, the Lombards were said to have emerged victorious in that battle.

Later, when the Lombards were roaming toward a different section of the Elbe, a tribe reportedly called the Assipitti was said to have mobilized its forces to stop the migrants. As in the earlier conflict, the Lombards were again outnumbered and would need to be clever in order to survive. They resorted once again to psychological warfare, this time focusing on spreading disinformation and causing fear. As before, one step of the plan was to make the enemy think that the Lombard forces were much more numerous than was actually true. To do this, the Lombards reportedly spread out their tents wider than usual and also kindled a great number of cooking fires in their camp. Next, information was fed to the Assipitti that the Lombards had monstrous dog-headed creatures fighting on their side. Paul the Deacon described this interesting scheme:

“They pretend that they have in their camps Cynocephali, that is, men with dogs’ heads. They spread the rumor among the enemy that these men wage war obstinately, drink human blood and quaff their own gore if they cannot reach the foe” (History of the Lombards, Book I, chapter 11).

As the story goes, the Assipitti hesitated after hearing rumors about the monstrous dog-men and seeing the Lombard camp with its many fires. In the end, the numerically-superior Assipitti reportedly decided to avoid the Lombard forces, and let them pass by unobstructed. This early Lombard talent of overcoming powerful foes through persistence and clever tricks no doubt helped them survive until they could strengthen themselves by growing their own numbers, making allies, and absorbing conquered tribes.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (14th-century image of Cynocephali from the Kievan Psalter, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Agricola and Germania by Tacitus and translated by Harold Mattingly and revised by J. B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.
• History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.  

The Battle of Mons Graupius

Julius Agricola arrived in Britannia in the year 77 and took up the office of governor. He had a decorated résumé, as he previously served as governor of Aquitania from 74-76 and held the office of suffect consul of Rome in 76 before being sent to govern Britannia. Agricola also had plenty of prior military experience in Britain; he had served with Governor Suetonius Paulinus during the devastating revolt of Boudicca in 60 or 61, and Emperor Vespasian appointed Agricola to command the Twentieth Legion in Britannia from 69 to 73. With such administrative experience, as well as his knowledge of Britain’s geography and people, he was an ideal pick for the job of running Roman operations in Britannia.

Agricola’s two predecessors as governor of Britannia had been considered successful military leaders. Governor Petulius Cerialis (r. 71-73) led significant campaigns against the powerful Brigantes, while Julius Frontinus (r. 73-77) conquered the Silures of southern Wales. When Julius Agricola took the reins of government in Britannia around year 77, he quickly set to work showing that he was equal, nay superior, to his lauded predecessors. In his very first year in office, Agricola spread Roman influence into northern Wales, and even conquered the troublesome island of Mona (now Anglesey). Over the next several years, Agricola turned his attention to the north. By the year 79, he was campaigning by the Forth-Clyde Isthmus and the River Tay. Agricola started pushing toward the Highlands around 82, invading what the Romans called Caledonia, by land and sea. The highlight of the campaign—and the most famous moment of Agricola’s career—was the Battle of Mons Graupius, fought between the Romans and the Caledonians (or more likely a coalition of Pict tribes) in the year 83.

According to the historian Tacitus (Agricola’s son-in-law), the Roman fleet in Britannia was sent out to pillage and cause confusion during the days leading up to the confrontation at Mons Graupius. While the ships were causing terror and worry, Agricola marched his army to Mons Graupius, where a large number of hostile warriors were gathering under a leader whom the Romans called Calgacus. The location of the battle unfortunately remains disputed, but from the name Mons Graupius (‘Graupian Mountain’), the terrain was obviously mountainous or hilly. There were also thick patches of woods within running distance of the site, which would eventually play a part in the battle.

When the Roman army arrived at Mons Graupius, Agricola’s scouts reported that more than 30,000 enemy warriors were present. The Roman legionnaires, although reportedly assisted by 8,000 auxiliary infantry and 3,000 cavalry, were said to have been significantly outnumbered by the Caledonians. Agricola’s arrival at Mons Graupius apparently did not immediately cause a battle to erupt—the Romans had time to build a walled camp at the foot of the hill or mountain. The tense peace, however, would not last, as, according to Tacitus, the Caledonian war-leader, Calgacus, soon sent a portion of his army down the slope to challenge the Roman camp.

Agricola chose to meet the incoming warriors in the field instead of behind his camp walls. He put his auxiliary troops and cavalry on the front line, and positioned his legions in reserve, backed against the walls of the camp. When the two armies came into range of each other, the battle opened up with back-and-forth volleys of missiles. Yet, what was most frightening to the Romans were the numerous chariots rolling out in front of the Caledonian forces. Agricola sent a large portion of his cavalry against the chariots, doing so presumably around the same time as the projectile exchange, for the deadly vehicles were apparently lured away from the front lines and were detained during the opening stages of the battle.

When the first wave of Caledonians had marched down to level ground, Agricola sent forward six Germanic auxiliary cohorts to meet the incoming warriors with swords and shields. These six cohorts were reportedly not chosen arbitrarily, but picked because their fighting style gave them a significant advantage against the Caledonians. The auxiliary forces reached their opponents without any harassment from the chariots, and began battling with the opposing infantry line. Agricola’s choice of the Germanic cohorts apparently paid off, as the warriors from Germania began pushing the first wave of Caledonians back toward the slope of Mons Graupius. When the frontline of the battle began to slowly creep up to higher ground, giving an increasing advantage to the Caledonians, Agricola sent more infantry from his reserves to reinforce the auxiliary cohorts. Around this time, the chariots were also completely defeated by the Roman cavalry, so the horsemen could refocus their efforts on other sections of the battle. Agricola kept some of the horsemen in reserve, but others were sent to crash into the flanks of the Caledonian infantry.

Calgacus and the rest of the uncommitted warriors on Mons Graupius, noticing that Agricola had sent more infantry and cavalry into the fray, finally made the decision to advance with the rest of the Caledonian forces into battle. These fresh warriors charged down the slope and began to envelop the Roman forces who were fighting on the frontline. Agricola countered this move by sending in the rest of the Roman cavalry, which had been held in reserve. Now it was the Caledonian side that was enveloped.

The hammer-and-anvil strikes of the Roman cavalry reportedly won the day. Unable to withstand the flanking attacks of Agricola’s horsemen, Calgacus’ warriors began retreating to the nearby forests. The Caledonians were evidently still organized when they withdrew into the woods, for they set up an ambush against the pursuing Romans. Yet, Agricola thwarted the ambush by ringing his infantry carefully around the woods like hunters, and sent his cavalry charging into the least brushy regions of the forest. These maneuvers reportedly ended any hope for a Caledonian ambush, and Calgacus’ formerly focused troops now began truly fleeing from the battlefield. According to Tacitus, Agricola’s army pursued the Caledonians until nightfall, and by the end of the day, around 10,000 of Calgacus’ warriors were slain.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Calgacus at Mons Graupius, in Pictorial History of Scotland A.D. 79-1646, 2 vols, vol. I, (London, 1859), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Agricola and Germania by Tacitus and translated by Harold Mattingly and revised by J. B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Gnaeus-Julius-Agricola 
• https://www.ancient.eu/article/776/tacitus-account-of-the-battle-of-mons-graupius/ 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Caledonia-ancient-region-Britain 
• https://penelope.uchicago.edu/~grout/encyclopaedia_romana/britannia/monsgraupius/monsgraupius.html  
• http://www.battlefieldsofbritain.co.uk/battle_mons_graupius_ad83.html  

The Remarkably Unlucky Mutiny Of The Usipi Cohort In Roman Britannia

In the year 82, during the governorship of Julius Agricola, an auxiliary cohort of German Usipi warriors launched an ill-fated mutiny against their Roman supervisors in Britannia. The harrowing event was documented by two historians, Tacitus (who happened to be the son-in-law of Agricola) and Cassius Dio. It was mentioned only in passing in Cassius Dio’s Roman History, but Tacitus described the horrors of the mutiny with gruesome detail in the pages of his Agricola.

In section twenty-eight of the Agricola, Tacitus claimed that an auxiliary cohort of Usipi warriors (approximately 500 men) rebelled against the Romans who oversaw the unit. Many Roman officers were reportedly murdered in the mutiny, including all the centurions assigned to the cohort (there were usually 6), a military tribune, and any other trainers, disciplinarians or average Roman legionaries who had the misfortune of being present at the time. Following the purge of the Romans in their ranks, the rogue Usipi cohort rushed to a nearby harbor and commandeered three Liburnian warships, which are small and quick vessels.

The captains of the commandeered ships were largely uncooperative, so the Usipi mutineers had to make do with their own knowledge of navigation. Perhaps in consequence of this, the progress of the rebels was tortuously slow and, whether or not they actually intended the feat, the mutineers were said to have circumnavigated the island. During their long journey, the rebels eventually ran out whatever supplies they had stockpiled onto their ships. The parched and starving warriors were forced to begin raiding coastal towns of the Britons for food and water. Yet, according to Tacitus’ sources, the Britons were able to fend off many of the attacks launched by the weakening Usipi crews. The little amount of supplies that the mutineers managed to steal from the Britons was apparently not enough to feed the whole group—they reportedly had to resort to cannibalism toward the end of their hellish experience.

After their circumnavigation of Britain, the fate of the mutineers became more vague. As a result of all their raiding, the mutinous Usipi crews apparently gained reputations as pirates, yet their seamanship was subpar. In an ambiguous statement, Tacitus claimed that the Usibi rebels eventually ran their ships aground or were shipwrecked, possibly back on the coast of the European mainland, somewhere around the Netherlands region. Although they had made it back to Germania, the mutineers were not met with a warm welcome by the local tribes, presumably because of reputation for piracy that the rebels had accrued during their journey. Tacitus wrote, “Having lost their ships through poor seamanship, they were taken for pirates and cut off first by the Suebi and then by the Frisii. Some of them were sold as slaves and passed from hand to hand till they reached our bank of the Rhine, where they gained notoriety from the tale of their great adventure” (Agricola, section 28).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Art from Trajan's Column (plate XCIX, scene CXXXIV), attributed to Apollodoro di Damasco (50–130), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Agricola and Germania by Tacitus and translated by Harold Mattingly and revised by J. B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Roman/Texts/Cassius_Dio/66*.html  

The Trial Of Rusticus And Senecio

In the year 69, Emperor Vespasian and his Flavian Dynasty came to power after a year of civil war between powerful generals, a period known as the Year of the Four Emperors (Galba, Otho, Vitellius and, finally, Vespasian). After coming to power through such chaotic means, the Flavian Dynasty understandably shed some of the carefully crafted façade of the earlier Roman Principate, and decided to rule more openly as a military dictatorship. Therefore, treason trials were resumed and more restraining measures were put in place against possible threats to the imperial family, especially during the reign of the last Flavian Emperor, Domitian (r. 81-96). Although many people were sentenced to death during the reign of the Flavian Emperors, two executed men named Arulenus Rusticus and Herennius Senecio particularly stood out to contemporary scholars of the age.

Renowned writers of the 1st century, such as Tacitus, Suetonius and Pliny the Younger, all wrote about the case of Rusticus and Senecio. One reason that these specific executions hit the scholars so hard was that they had been acquaintances of Rusticus and Senecio, and, in the case of Pliny, close friends. Additionally, Rusticus and Senecio were sentenced to death as a consequence of the literature that they wrote, and therefore the case directly affected the scholarly and literary community to which Tacitus, Suetonius and Pliny the Younger belonged.

Arulenus Rusticus and Herennius Senecio drew the suspicion of Emperor Domitian after they wrote admiring pieces that honored deceased rebellious senators. Rusticus chose as the subject of his text Senator Thrasea Paetus, who was executed in 66, after years of being a public critic of Emperor Nero. As for Senecio, the individual he idolized in his text was a bit more sensational for the days of the Flavian Dynasty. Herennius Senecio praised Senator Helvidius Priscus the Elder, who was executed in 75 for his outspoken resistance against Emperor Vespasian, the father of Domitian. Such glowing accounts of rebellious senators put Rusticus and Senecio at odds with the Flavian emperors, as well as pro-Flavian senators. Yet, for vague reasons, Emperor Domitian did not only question the loyalty of Rusticus and Senecio, but he also was suspicious of many people connected to the two controversial writers.

In the year 93, Arulenus Rusticus, Herennius Senecio, and even Helvidius Priscus the Younger (son of the senator executed by Vespasian) were all put on trial. Also tried was Fannia, the widow of the elder Priscus, and Fannia’s mother Arria, as well as Arulenus Rusticus’ brother (Mauricus) and wife (Gratilla). At the end of the trials, Rusticus, Senecio and Priscus the Younger were all executed. Everyone else mentioned above survived the trials, but they all were sent into exile and did not return to Rome until after Domitian’s assassination in 96.

For Tacitus, the tragedy was not so much the deaths of Rusticus and Senecio—they knew the risks of challenging an all-powerful regime—but instead the lack of Roman resistance against censorship in literature and oration. Following the execution of Rusticus and Senecio, the literary works that they wrote were gathered and burned by the government. Writing of the Rusticus and Senecio trial, as well of the subsequent burning of their books, Tacitus wrote: “We have indeed left an impressive example of subservience. Just as Rome of old explored the limits of freedom, so have we plumbed the depths of slavery, robbed by informers even of the interchange of speech” (Agricola, section 2).

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Archimedes before his death with the Roman soldier - copy of a Roman mosaic from the 2nd century, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• Agricola and Germania by Tacitus and translated by Harold Mattingly and revised by J. B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2009.
• The Twelve Caesars by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007. 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Publius-Clodius-Thrasea-Paetus 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Pliny-the-Younger 
• http://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-3002 
• http://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-3032  

Emperor Domitian Wrote A Manual On Hair Care

Domitian ruled the Roman Empire from after the death of his brother Titus in the year 81, until the year 96, when a group of fearful conspirators had him assassinated. Domitian’s character remains difficult to assess—his reign was undoubtedly filled with heightened authoritarianism and executions, yet the cause and effect is debatable. Did Domitian’s oppression of the Senate and further centralization of government cause Senators to conspire against him, or did corruption and plotting among the ruthless members of the Senate spur on Domitian to brutally rein in the Senatorial class? Whatever the case, Domitian and the Roman elites were at odds and it did not help his reputation that the great contemporary writers of his age, such as Tacitus and Pliny the Younger, were his bitter enemies. Interestingly, the most positive account of Domitian arguably came from the biographer, Suetonius, who usually had few good words for most of the emperors after Augustus.

In The Twelve Caesars, Suetonius ended the work with a section on Domitian—it was very critical of the emperor (unsurprisingly, as Suetonius was Pliny’s protégé), but he did praise a few of Domitian’s policies. The biographer looked in favor on Domitian’s efforts to rebuild Rome and to refill its libraries after the damage caused to the city during the fire of year 80. Suetonius also mentioned that the emperor prohibited barbaric practices such as castration, and actively sought to end corruption among magistrates and governors (likely a reason as to why the senators detested him).

Suetonius also commented on Domitian’s academic interests. During the reigns of his father (Vespasian) and brother (Titus), Domitian apparently was enthusiastic about literature and poetry. Yet, when he became emperor in 81, he seemed to have little time to devote to writing, or otherwise thought being an author was an unnecessary distraction. Nevertheless, he reportedly tried to revive interest in the arts during his reign by funding competitions of rhetoric and music.

Despite his eventual withdrawal from writing, Emperor Domitian is known to have produced one book—De cura capillorum, a manual on hair maintenance and care. It was an ironic book, because Domitian was reportedly bald, but a fragment that survives from the text—“Yet my hair will go the same way, and I am resigned to having an old man’s head before my time”— suggests he may have written the piece before he completely lost his hair (Suetonius, Domitian, section 18). Although Domitian reportedly was sensitive about his baldness, his book on hair was allegedly witty and humorous. Unfortunately, the text is lost except for its catchy title (Care of the Hair) and two small fragments that were preserved by Suetonius.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Painting of Emperor Domitian by Domenico Fetti  (1589–), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Twelve Caesars (Domitian, section 18) by Suetonius, translated by Robert Graves and edited by James B. Rives. New York: Penguin Classics, 2007.
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Domitian 
• https://www.ancient.eu/domitian/ 
• https://www.pbs.org/empires/romans/empire/titus_domitian.html 
• https://www.historytoday.com/rhys-griffiths/emperor-domitian-ad-51-96 
• https://britishschoolatrome.wordpress.com/tag/domitian/ 
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/639608?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents  

Ancient Romans Used Unnerving Family Loopholes To Gain Rewards During The Reign Of The Julio-Claudian Dynasty

During his reign, Augustus (r. 31 BCE-14 CE) instituted and amended several laws that encouraged marriage and the cultivation of large families in the Roman Empire. Most importantly, the Lex Papia Poppaea was enacted in 9 CE, which revised the preexisting Lex Julia laws. These pieces of legislation gave married men with large families certain exemptions from state obligations, and also gave fathers of many children preferential treatment in disputes over inheritance and even in promotions to state and military positions. Unmarried and childless Romans, on the other hand, received none of the aforementioned benefits, faced punitive fines, and were barred from certain celebrations.

The Lex Papia Poppaea did, however, give some leeway to certain groups, such as widows, bachelors and childless couples. Regarding the last two categories of people, the law declared that adopting children was a viable way to receive benefits from the state. For bachelors, too, the law stated that betrothals (contracts to marry at a later date) would amount to the same benefits as that of a full marriage.

Despite the state-sponsored drive for marriage and parenting, many ambitious Romans were not interested in marriage or child rearing. These determined Romans began using bizarre and unsettling loopholes to gain the benefits provided by the laws, while still not committing to a family life.

According to the historian, Cassius Dio (c. 163-235), betrothals were the first system that Romans exploited in order to bypass the marriage laws. Dio reported that men realized they could become betrothed to infant girls in order to attain the status of a married man in the eyes the law. They were given all of the state-sponsored benefits entitle to a married man in Rome, but did not have to worry about marrying their bride for many years to come. Augustus eventually regulated this loophole by decreeing that betrothals were only valid if the marriage was scheduled to occur within two years. Yet, even with this revision, girls as young as ten were still eligible to be betrothed.

Ambitious Romans who had no intention of having children also found loopholes to bypass the penalties against childlessness. While the Lex Papia Poppaea supported adoption, it did not penalize those who disowned the adopted. Therefore, according to the historian, Tacitus (c. 56-117+), childless people that ran for elected positions or governorships would often adopt children in order to receive the status and privilege granted to prolific fathers. Once they won their position, however, the adoptions were revoked. This practice persisted for decades, only ending in the reign of Nero (r. 54-68). By then, these fictitious adoptions, as Tacitus called them, came under criticism for not only being unethical (depending on the age of who was adopted), but also unfair to devoted parents who were spending time and money to authentically raise their children. Around the year 62, Nero and the Senate closed the loophole by decreeing that fake adoptions would no longer give any benefits or privileges to participants in inheritance disputes or elections to government offices.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Wall painting of a feast, c. 79 CE or earlier, located in Pompeii, photographed by Theodore H. Feder, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996. 
• The Roman History by Cassius Dio, translated by Ian Scott-Kilvert. New York: Penguin Classics, 1987. 
• http://www.csun.edu/~hcfll004/AugMarriage.html 
• https://www.jstor.org/stable/3292043?seq=1#page_scan_tab_contents  

The Omens Reported To Have Occurred Before The Assassination Of Emperor Claudius

Nearly all of the ancient sources agreed that Emperor Claudius died on October 13, in the year 54. The exact method of death and the number of accomplices in the conspiracy varied from source to source, but the emperor’s wife, Agrippina the Younger, was usually the prime suspect and poison was almost always proposed as her weapon of choice. According to the Roman historian and statesman, Tacitus (c. 56-117), there may have been several signs that could have alerted Claudius to the impending danger—there was allegedly a significant uptick in bizarre anomalies and omens leading up to the emperor’s assassination.

It is vague if Claudius would have listened to any such omens. On the one hand, he was said to have set up a board of soothsayers in the year 47, or at least put pressure on the Senate to make sure soothsayers were given monetary support. Imperial backing for divination, however, wavered in the year 52, when Lucius Arruntius Furius Scribonianus was exiled after allegedly contracting with astrologers to predict the emperor’s death. In the aftermath of the trial, the Senate imposed a decree that attempted to ban all astrologers from operating in Italy.

Despite the recent decree against astrology, Romans apparently continued to take note of the omens that they saw. Tacitus, like other Roman and Greek historians before and after him, decided to record these omens in his account of Claudius’ reign in the text, The Annals of Imperial Rome. Without further ado, here are the bizarre omens allegedly witnessed by ancient historians that foreshadowed the death of Emperor Claudius:

• A mysterious fire set several military tents and standards ablaze. The inferno, however, was no ordinary fire. The flames were said to have fallen from the sky. 
• A swarm of bees set up their hive in the Capitoline temple. 
• Among the livestock of Rome, a pig was born with the claws of a hawk. 
• Human births were also recorded as omens—some newborns reportedly had bodies that appeared to be half beast. 
• Finally, Tacitus claimed that virtually every government office in Rome suffered a death in the space of a few months. These suspicious deaths supposedly affected the offices of quaestor, aedile, tribune, praetor and consul. After not heeding the omens, the emperor, too, followed these other officials to the realm of the dead.

 

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Modified image based on a 1st century portrait/bust of Roman Emperor Claudius (r. 41-54), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Annals of Imperial Rome (Chapter 10) by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996.

 

The Scandalous Murder Of Pontia In Ancient Rome

Around the year 58, a dramatic crime of passion occurred in the city of Rome. The main source that recorded this crime was Tacitus. Even though he was only one or two years old at the time of the crime, the notoriety of the infamous murder must have lingered. After decades had passed, Tacitus preserved the crime in writing with a surprisingly detailed account of the killing in his Annals of Imperial Rome.

According to the historian, the victim of the murderous crime that occurred in the year 58 was a noblewoman named Pontia. Although she was a married woman, Pontia became engaged in a serious affair with a Roman tribune named Octavius Sagitta. The tribune was so enamored with Pontia that he offered her a fortune (of unknown quantity) in hopes that it would convince her to leave her husband. The tribune’s intention was to marry Pontia, and she apparently made similar promises. Pontia, indeed, took the money and even divorced her husband. Yet, she resisted the tribune’s offers of marriage. Tacitus claimed she was waiting to see if men of greater influence would take notice of her availability and the newfound fortune she possessed. While Pontia waited for other suitors, Octavius Sagitta’s reputation and status plummeted.

With his wealth gone and his name tarnished, Sagitta unsurprisingly became a bitter man. On an unfortunate night, the tribune invited his former lover to visit him one last time. Tacitus dramatically claimed that during this late night meeting, Pontia agreed to let Octavius Sagitta have his money’s worth of pleasure for the fortune that he had given her, on the condition that they would afterward part forever. Although this was the supposed plan, Sagitta had unfortunately not initiated this encounter for mere pleasure. At some point on that fateful evening, Octavius Sagitta viciously stabbed Pontia to death. His victim, however, had not traveled alone that night—Pontia’s maid frantically rushed into the room when she heard unnerving sounds. After stabbing the maid, too, the tribune fled the building and disappeared into the night.

Sometime after sunrise, the victims were discovered. Pontia was beyond help, but her maid was still alive, although she was in critical condition. Rumors about Pontia’s affairs had been rampant, so Octavius Sagitta was immediately a prime suspect. Instead of confessing, the tribune framed an ex-slave as the murderer, although Tacitus suggests this unnamed man may have volunteered to take the blame. Unbelievably, this scheme apparently worked and some people began to believe that the tribune was innocent. Nevertheless, the injured maid recovered and testified against Octavius Sagitta. Upon hearing the maid’s testimony, the Roman Senate found Sagitta guilty of murder.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture attribution: (Caesar Walking to his death, painted by Abel de Pujol  (1785–1861), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996.