The Historians of Late Antiquity

by David Rohrbacher

  Conclusion

  Ancient historians are not an ideal source for information about the administration and economy of the late antique state, but they do often reveal the opinions and attitudes held by the educated elite about these institutions. In general, late antique historians attempt to combine, sometimes uneasily, ancient and traditional beliefs about society with more contemporary ideas. Thus, the civil and republican ideals of imperial presentation collide with more elevated visions of imperial dominance. The idealized vision of the relationship between emperor and subject often harkens back to a bygone era no longer commensurate with the reality of the larger and more intrusive late antique administration. While ideals of justice remained unchanged, the reality of punishment became harsher. Economic issues were personalized, and complaints about taxation, for example, generally reveal more about the historian’s view on the emperor and the times than on the historian’s grasp of imperial fiscal policy.

  15

  THE ROMAN PAST

  For historians writing in the fourth and fifth centuries, the period of the late republic stood at roughly the same distance as does the age of Columbus for modern historians. The earlier republic was as ancient then as the Norman conquest is today. Nevertheless, given the Roman respect for the past, it is not surprising that many historians reflect upon the earliest history of Rome. A few late antique historians directly treat the regal and republican periods, but even those who are only chroniclers of their own time often find opportunities to refer to people and events of the distant past. Such reflections shed light, both explicitly and implicitly, on the historian’s understanding of the meaning and purpose of the broad sweep of human history. The omission of republican material by some late antique historians is itself a reflection of the historian’s attitude toward his work and the expectations of his audience.

  Of late antique histories, Ammianus’ Res Gestae most deliberately adapted the style of the classical historians, and so not surprisingly it contains numerous allusions to Rome’s distant past. Ammianus provides us with an elaborate schema of Roman history, which recognizes the changes in government from antiquity to his day but at the same time expresses a belief in the unity and progression of the Roman state (Matthews 1986). In a familiar ancient image, Rome is depicted as a man passing through the stages of life. From “cradle” to “childhood,” the Romans fought around their walls, and in “adulthood” waged war across the seas. In Ammianus’ time, the city, having retired, had wisely entrusted its patrimony to the emperors, who skillfully manage this inheritance (14.6.3–6). The image creates a direct link between the earliest history of Rome and the fourth-century empire. Roman history has come full circle with the return of the tranquillity of the time of King Numa. While Tacitus had worried about the prospects for liberty in an imperial world, Ammianus suggests that the fourth-century empire, the product of a pact of eternal peace between Virtue and Fortune, had transcended the conflicts of the earlier empire.

  The Res Gestae makes frequent reference to figures from the republic. In the surviving books, famous figures of the republic appear more often than the emperors who ruled in the first, second, or third centuries. In this respect, Ammianus is similar to other fourth-century Latin writers, such as Claudian or the panegyricists, who depend almost entirely on republican exempla, to the exclusion of imperial ones (Stertz 1980: 491). For example, Ammianus supports his contention that the earlier inhabitants of Rome were superior in modesty to their decadent successors with a quote from Cato the Elder (14.6.8), and he demonstrates the fickleness of Fortune by references to Pompey, Regulus, and other republican military leaders (14.11.32). Ammianus’ frequent recourse to such references is less a reflection of his opinion of the republic than an assertion of his belief in the continuity and centrality of Romanitas over so many centuries. His traditionally educated audience would have appreciated his references, which establish Ammianus’ link with the classical historiography of the past.

  Ammianus often reaches for republican exempla when passing judgement upon military events. The ability of Rome to recover after Cannae (31.13.19) and the Gallic invasions (31.5.12) suggests that Rome has the potential to recover from the massacre at Adrianople, if only Roman moral standards can return to those of their republican antecedents. Ammianus treats with scorn the cession of Nisibis to the Persians by Jovian in 363, adding a reminder that earlier peace treaties signed under duress, such as the one following Rome’s ignominious defeat at the Caudine Forks, were readily abandoned (25.9.11).

  Ammianus often compares Julian to the glorious heroes of the republic. The emperor’s battle exhortation recalls the example of Sulla (16.12.41), his habit of writing while on campaign recalls Caesar (25.2.3), the unfair attacks upon him are like those directed against Scipio Aemilianus and Pompey (17.11.3), and his victory at Strasbourg surpasses the Punic Wars in excellence (17.1.14). The exhortation to the troops which Ammianus attributes to Julian before the invasion of Persia (23.5.16–23) contains several instances of Ammianus’ use of republican history. First is the utility of the republic as a source for providing historical lessons which still resonate in the present day. To demonstrate that his proposed expedition is in no way a novelty, Julian points out that, contrary to the muttering of some critics, the Romans had often been successful in past campaigns against Persia under such figures as Lucullus, Pompey, and Ventidius. Ammianus has Julian claim that the expedition seeks the complete destruction of the Persian empire, and he draws upon the examples of cities such as Carthage and Fidenae to prove that Romans have eradicated their rivals in the past. Second, the history of the republic offers moral exempla for the behavior of a Roman general. Julian is willing to follow the example of the Curtii, the Mucii, and the Decii, and give his life in return for Roman victory. Both the magnitude of Julian’s expedition and the greatness of his character are emphasized through his references to republican precedents. Ammianus thus frames Julian’s achievements as evidence of the continuing power of the classical republican spirit.

  Aurelius Victor aimed to take the pedestrian Kaisergeschichte and present a rhetorically and morally improved version. This rewriting entailed the addition of both republican exempla and of a broader meditation on historical change. The meaning of the transition from republic to empire for Victor is evident in his first sentence, where he states that under Octavian the Romans began to “obey one man alone.” The assassination of Caligula provided an opportunity for the restoration of the republic, but the Romans had been corrupted by the transfer of their historical duty of military service to foreign mercenaries (3.14–15). For Victor, the republic was dependent upon Romans who remained virtuous through continued military service. Victor’s derogatory attitude toward the army throughout his history makes it clear that he felt the shift to a professional army was a mistake (Bird 1984: 41–52). (The third-century historian Dio Cassius, too, had seen a professional soldiery as a key to the shift from republic to empire, although he supported the change (52.14).)

  Republican figures are ubiquitous in Victor’s work. He often demonstrates the wisdom or goodness of an imperial figure through a comparison with an ancient one. Hadrian’s attention to religion, for example, is praised through comparison to the similar attention paid by Numa (14.2). Because of his learning, morality, and frugality, Pertinax is likened to the Curii and Fabricii (18.1). The military valor of Claudius II, culminating in the sacrifice of his life for the state, is hailed as a return of the long-lost tradition of the similarly selfless Decii (34.2). Constantius’ installation of a king on the Sarmatian throne is praised as an action unmatched since the eastern conquests of Pompey (42.22). Such comparisons imply not only that Victor believes in the excellence of the republican period, but also that he believed it possible for later figures to rival the accomplishments of the ancients.

  When Victor presents observations or theories, as he is wont to do, he sometimes includes republican exempla which help universalize his points. His contention that Rome has of
ten been aided by the contributions of foreigners receives confirmation both in his depiction of the Cretan emperor Nerva and in a reference to the Etruscan Tarquinius Priscus (11.12). He supports his assertion that Probus was a good general by explaining his similarity to Hannibal: both emphasized rigorous training and prevented the soldiers from becoming idle by engaging them in the planting of trees (37.2–3). Victor’s theory that men of low birth are more likely to act tyrannically when they receive power is demonstrated by the example of the republican Marius as well as that of the late imperial Diocletian (39.6).

  Eutropius, who unlike Victor begins his history from the founding of Rome, presents a view of early history designed to emphasize the continuity of one institution in particular, the Roman senate. Eclipsed in the third century by the rise of military rule, the senate began to regain its importance and power in the post-Constantinian empire (Arnheim 1972). Senatorial prestige received a temporary boost under Julian, but the rise to power of the Pannonian generals Valentinian and Valens produced strained relations between the court and the senate (Matthews 1975: 32–56). Eutropius, himself a senator as well as an administrator for Valens, is particularly concerned with emphasizing the importance of the ancient senate. Of sixteen mentions of the senate in his account of republican history, only one is negative (Bird 1992: xxvii–xxx).

  Eutropius’ pro-senatorial bias is particularly clear in his account of the conflict between Marius and Sulla. Marius is directly blamed for the war (5.4), which Eutropius attributes to his spurned desire to lead the campaign against Mithridates. Sulla’s campaigns in the east are described as a stunning success (5.6), and his return to Rome is portrayed as the result of a senatorial delegation begging him to restore order after the massacre of nobles perpetrated by Marius (5.7.4). Sulla’s own proscriptions are passed over with the phrase “the restoration of order to the state” (6.1). This pro-senatorial stance is presumably also the explanation for Eutropius’ complete omission of the revolutionary Gracchi (Bird 1986).

  Eutropius condemns Julius Caesar for his refusal to lawfully run for senatorial office (6.25), and also omits mention of Caesar’s posthumous apotheosis (den Boer 1972: 156). Eutropius’ negative treatment of Caesar based on his poor relations with the senate is echoed in the imperial section of the history, where the historian judges emperors largely on their behavior toward the senate. Nero’s evil is demonstrated by the fact that he executed a vast number of senators and was “an enemy of all good men” (7.14.1), while Vespasian, on the other hand, was “friendly to the senate, the people, and, finally, to everyone” (7.20.2).

  While Eutropius’ emphasis on the senate provides continuity from republic to empire in his account of Roman history, Festus focuses on the continuity of the Roman military. Festus’ introduction presents the traditional separation of Roman history into regal, republican, and imperial periods (2), but he frequently elides these distinctions in the early sections of the work, which are arranged geographically rather than in strict temporal order. In describing Roman foreign policy in the east, Festus provides a story of expansion which moves smoothly from Sulla and Pompey to Augustus and Trajan without reference to the political discontinuity between republic and empire.

  Unlike Eutropius, Festus does not refrain from dwelling upon failure. A disproportionately large amount of the history is devoted to the gruesome demise of Crassus (17). While Eutropius had blamed the disaster on Crassus’ failure to heed certain omens (6.18), Festus blames the failure of Crassus on his refusal to accept a proffered peace and on his reliance on a treacherous deserter. These historians’ views of the defeat of Crassus may have been influenced by their attitudes toward the more recent failure of Roman armies under Julian. Festus’ account of Julian is, like his account of Crassus, more critical than that of Eutropius (10.16). Festus’ Julian rejected a chance for peace (28) and foolishly continued the Persian invasion until he was killed, while Eutropius’ Julian, victorious, died merely by chance on his triumphant return to Roman territory (10.16.2). Both historians also have kind words for Lucius Cassius, the quaestor of Crassus. Cassius’ success in preserving the defeated army and even in gaining some victories over the Parthians after the death of Crassus is perhaps meant to contrast with the failure of Jovian (Fest. 29; Eut. 10.17) after the death of Julian.

  The nature of our evidence makes impossible a definitive judgement on the treatment of the republic in the fragmentary historians Eunapius, Olympiodorus, and Priscus. It seems likely that comparisons of contemporary historical events and figures with those of the classical period would generally have been extraneous to the main thread of the narrative, and would thus be particularly likely to have been suppressed in the summaries by Photius, Zosimus, or the Byzantine excerptors.

  Eunapius is a more devoted traditionalist than is Olympiodorus or Priscus, and perhaps for this reason he seems to have been more drawn to exempla. His exempla, however, are derived largely from the Greek rather than the Roman past. As a successor to Dexippus and Dio, his historical pedigree ultimately stems from Herodotus, Thucydides, and classical Athens. In his extant Lives of the Sophists, there are no references to early Roman history, but there are several passing references to Greek figures like Nicias (479), Pericles (498), and Peisistratus (488). The History suggests a similar interest in the Greek past. In his preface, he uses “the wisdom of Socrates” and “the acuity of Themistocles” as examples of virtues which histories describe (fr. 1). Alexander the Great receives several mentions (frs. 28.5, 34.10), and Zosimus’ comparison of Julian’s victory in Gaul with that of Alexander over Darius (3.3.3) may derive ultimately from Eunapius.

  Despite his Hellenic bias, Eunapius occasionally made reference to figures of the Roman republic. The Excerpta de Sententiis preserves two such references. Marius (whom he calls “the Roman Marius”) used to say of Sulla that he was two beasts, a fox and a lion, and that he feared the fox more. Eunapius comments that Constantius was surrounded by no lions, but by many foxes (fr. 20.4). Another preserved quip concerns the Carthaginian general Phameas and his respect for Scipio Aemilianus (fr. 69.5). Blockley suggests that Eunapius had likened Fravitta to Scipio and Gainas to Phameas (1983: 148 n. 167). These mentions of republican figures were presumably derived from collections of sententiae rather than original research, but given the narrow, Greek-oriented world of sophistic exempla, they are still worthy of note (on sophistic historical exempla cf. Anderson 1993: 101–32).

  Two passages in Zosimus which survey early Roman history could conceivably be derived from Eunapius. In his critical account of Jovian’s surrender of Roman territory to the Persians after the disastrous defeat of Julian, Zosimus provides a quick survey of Roman–Persian relations, with reference to Lucullus, Pompey, Crassus, and Augustus (3.32). The comparison with republican figures who had never lost Roman territory ensures that particular opprobrium falls upon Jovian. Second, Gratian’s refusal to take up the ancient pagan title of pontifex maximus prompts Zosimus to sketch the history of the office, pointing to Numa as its originator and Augustus as the first emperor to hold the title (4.36.3). If these passages originated with Eunapius they would provide evidence for an attempt to systematically compare fourth-century Rome with an earlier period, but they could easily be additions by Zosimus, written to support his comprehensive theory of Roman decline.

  It is even more difficult to determine Olympiodorus’ use of the Roman past. His extant fragments contain no references to the republic or early empire. Olympiodorus was familiar with Latin and with contemporary Rome, and the digressive nature of his history might have provided opportunity to reflect upon the ancient past. But as a writer of “material for history” rather than proper, formal history, he probably omitted the lengthy, rhetorical comparisons of ancient and modern times which characterized the more traditionalist works of historians like Ammianus or Eunapius.

  Priscus’ fragments contain no references to early Roman history. Priscus’ work, like Olympiodorus’, focuses heavily on contemporary ev
ents. His emphasis on eastern rather than western events would have limited his opportunities to discuss the republic. The historian’s treatment of Rome in his debate with the Greek who became a Hun further suggests a lack of interest in the ancient history of Rome. His defense of Rome centers primarily upon the value of Roman law and the Roman constitution. The institutions which Priscus defends are those of the late Roman state. He gives no attention to the virtuous heroes of early Rome or to the republican constitution which earlier historians had seen as integral to the success of the Roman state.

  Orosius provides a vision of the Roman republic strikingly at odds with that of the pagan and classicizing historians. Under the influence of the Eusebian vision, he depicts a corrupt and bellicose republic which gave way, at the time of the coming of Christ, to a more benevolent and progressive empire. The Roman state, according to Orosius, was born in bloodshed and violence, as Romulus murdered his grandfather and brother, abducted the Sabine Women, and gathered together a band of criminals as the first citizens (2.4). But the regal period did not lead to a liberated republic. Instead, Orosius describes the regicide Brutus as the murderer of his sons and thus as even worse than Romulus. The horrors of the republic only ceased with the coming of Augustus. Augustus’ opening of the doors of the temple of Janus, which signifies the peace of the empire, is purposefully misdated by Orosius in order to link it directly with the Epiphany (6.20.3; Inglebert 1996: 543).

  Orosius aims to show that the disasters of the early fifth century, which some had blamed on the abandonment of traditional Roman religion, paled in comparison with the disasters of the Roman state prior to the coming of Christ and the establishment of Christianity. The Eusebian framework he adopts to explain Roman history suggested that the sole rule of Augustus over a world empire was the secular counterpart to the rule of one God over the world, and that the two threads, secular and divine, became united with the coming of Constantine, at once the worldly emperor and the head of the Christian church. Orosius does not clearly suggest that the troubles of the republic rested upon a flawed political system; in fact, he only occasionally recognizes any systemic difference between republic and empire. Instead, every kind of disturbance, whether in warfare, in domestic affairs, or in natural events such as pestilence and earthquake, is set forth as evidence of the corruption of the early Roman state.