The Great Illyrian Revolt

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by Jason R Abdale


  The Last Rebel Stronghold: The Fall of Arduba

  As soon as Tiberius began negotiating with Bato, Germanicus left, taking a portion of the army with him to go and hunt down and destroy the last surviving remnants of the rebellion.39 At last, he and his men came to a place called Arduba, where the bulk of the surviving rebels had decided to make their futile last stand and had barricaded themselves within. Germanicus’ troops outnumbered the fort’s defenders, yet even so, he realized that he could not attack Arduba without suffering a large number of casualties. This late in the war, with the fighting all but over, he did not want to squander his men’s lives unnecessarily.

  It has been hypothesized that Arduba is the same as modern-day Vranduk, Bosnia, although there is not enough proof for this claim.40 I am inclined to reject the idea that Arduba and Vranduk are the same place because the written records do not mention any place established on this spot before the medieval period and no artefacts have been recovered from this site that are dated to ancient times. So the site of the last battle of the Great Illyrian Revolt must lie elsewhere.

  All was not well within Arduba’s walls. Many of the rebels within were deserters from Bato’s army who had regained their patriotic courage and had become determined to carry out the war to the bitter end, regardless of the fact that it was clear to everybody that it was already lost. The men of the town, knowing that the Roman troops that were encamped outside would force their way in sooner or later, and fearing that they would be slaughtered and the town destroyed, desired to make peace with Germanicus before he unleashed the fury of his legions upon them. They believed that if they surrendered now, before the battle began, they might be shown mercy. By contrast, the women of the town sided with the warriors, likely reminding their menfolk of what would happen to them and their families if the Romans prevailed. This argument between the rebel warriors and the people of Arduba turned violent, and they actually began brawling with each other within the town. During this ‘battle’, a fire broke out. The rebels were overwhelmed by the townsmen; many of them surrendered and a few escaped. The women of Arduba had a much greater love of their people’s independence than their men, vowing that they would rather die than live under Roman rule. Thus, taking their children in their arms, they either deliberately hurled themselves into the fire to be burned alive or else they jumped off the cliffs that guarded the town and drowned themselves in the winding river below.41 Images of the American attack on Saipan during the Second World War spring to mind when reading of these events.

  The Roman soldiers, who were encamped only a short distance away, must have seen all that was going on. Germanicus was content to sit by and wait, watching the Illyrians attacking and killing each other, and beheld the whole of the mountaintop stronghold of Arduba roaring with flames like an Illyrian Mount Etna. When it was all over and when the fires had burned themselves out, Germanicus ordered his soldiers forward and seized possession of the ruined town. It is highly likely that Germanicus and his men did not do any actual fighting by this stage. As soon as Arduba was taken, other nearby places voluntarily submitted to Germanicus. After this was done, he and a group of his men rejoined Tiberius, leaving Vibius Postumus to complete the subjugation of the area.42

  By the time that Arduba (or what was left of it) was taken, Tiberius had concluded his negotiations with the rebel leader. Germanicus likely returned to Tiberius’ side just in time for the news to be relayed to him that Bato had surrendered. Germanicus would have then told his uncle that the last surviving remnants of Bato’s rebel army had been defeated. Finally, it was over. The Great Illyrian Revolt was done.43

  Chapter Seven

  The Aftermath

  Too Shameful to Remember, Too Painful to Forget

  The Great Illyrian Revolt had begun, in all likelihood, in early March of the year 6 AD. Now, three and a half years later in September of 9 AD, it was over. The reason why we can be pretty confident in terms of dating when the rebellion ended is because it states in the ancient records that the Great Illyrian Revolt ended soon before Arminius led his own rebellion in Germania. Since it has been established through both history and forensic archaeology that the famed Battle of Teutoburg occurred in late September 9 AD, we can be certain that the Illyrian uprising ended sometime during that month, either in early or mid-September.

  By any standards, the Great Illyrian Revolt was an immense and intense conflict. Surprisingly, the Romans don’t appear to have taken much pride in this war. Ancient accounts about this uprising are few, and those that do write about it are mostly sparse. It is almost as if the Romans didn’t want to talk about it. The ancient Romans usually gloried in their victories, writing down everything in the most minute detail about how they crushed their opponents. The fact that the Great Illyrian Revolt is not treated in such a manner makes me think that the Romans felt that this was not something to be remembered in the hallowed halls of their history. For three and a half years, the Romans and Illyrians slogged it out almost non-stop in an all-or-nothing war of attrition and annihilation. It is shocking to read the considerably long list of battles and sieges. Many times the Romans lost, and they lost badly. Body counts are not provided, but the death tolls in these engagements must have been unimaginable. There were blood-soaked defeats and even bloodier victories. There are certain scenes mentioned in some engagements that allude to the stuff of nightmares. The sheer scale of the war must have been at once awesome and terrifying. This was total war at its worst.

  According to Suetonius, the Great Illyrian Revolt ‘carried on for three years with fifteen legions and a corresponding force of auxiliaries, amid great difficulties of every kind and the utmost scarcity of supplies.’1 Fifteen legions? That’s a full strength of 75,000 men! Added to that was a sizeable number of auxiliaries and support troops, as well as the men from Rome’s Thracian allies, all of whose numbers are unknown. In total, the Roman force that fought during the war may have numbered as high as 100,000 men, at least in theory.

  It is not recorded how many people were killed during the Great Illyrian Revolt, but it surely must be in the tens and perhaps even hundreds of thousands. I should state that casualty estimates are seldom recorded for ancient battles or wars, so it shouldn’t be surprising that there isn’t a butcher’s bill for this conflict. With such a large number, it can be very difficult to put any names to numeric statistics and the further back in time, the less likely you will find anything. Amazingly, we know of one person by name that was killed in this conflict: Aulus Licinius Nerva Silianus. He was the son of the eminent Publius Silius, and he had a very high opinion of himself. Bluntly speaking, he was a haughty arrogant snob, and his nature made people shun him; Paterculus comments that he was not well-praised. Only his best friend (who is not named) stated that ‘there were no qualities which he did not possess in the highest degree, whether as an excellent citizen or as an honest commander.’2 He was an associate of Caesar Augustus, but ‘his untimely death failed not only to reap the fruit of his close friendship with the emperor but also to realize that lofty conception of his powers which had been inspired by his father’s eminence.’3 The precise circumstances of Aulus Silianus’ death are not recorded. He may have been killed in battle or he might have simply died from contagious camp diseases like dysentery or typhus, as did many soldiers in those days.

  For the Illyrians, the Great Illyrian Revolt shattered their power in the region forever. This mass uprising was the last chance for the natives of the western Balkans to regain their ancient freedom. For the Romans, the Great Illyrian Revolt solved the problem of trying to control this volatile region. For more than two-hundred years, the Romans and Illyrians had fought each other. Now this would settle things permanently. The Great Illyrian Revolt was the last time that the Illyrians engaged in open hostility against the Romans. The native inhabitants would never challenge Rome’s authority over them again.

  With so much at stake in this war and with so many people involved in it, in the end what we
re the Romans able to show for it? Apparently, not much. Cassius Dio sums up his record of the war by stating depressingly that this revolt was a costly war for the Romans, both in men and money, and that it was a war in which much was lost and little was gained.4 No wonder the Great Illyrian Revolt left a bad taste in Rome’s mouth.

  Bato’s Fate

  For three years, a man named Bato from the Daesidiate tribe had carried on one of the best-executed and bloodiest native resistance movements in Roman history. In terms of sheer fighting power and tenacity, this man ranks very high up on the scale. Unlike other native commanders like Vercingetorix and Arminius, Bato the Daesidiate won several battlefield victories during his rebellion, not just one or two, and he frequently gave the Romans a shocking and unexpected sucker-punch to the guts. Now he was in chains.

  Bato had surrendered to the commander-in-chief of Rome’s military in the area, Tiberius Claudius Nero, just before the end of the war. I can imagine what Bato thought his fate was going to be. Routinely, whenever the ringleaders of enemy forces were captured, they were executed but Bato was an exception. Rather than have him ceremonially killed, as Julius Caesar had done with Vercingetorix, Bato was exiled. Tiberius, who was never a very hard-line ‘kill ’em all, boys!’ sort of general, sent the Illyrian resistance fighter to the Italian port-city of Ravenna, located on the Adriatic Sea, along with a hefty supply of rich presents to keep him content. This highly uncharacteristic display of mercy (and some Romans might say ‘softness’, especially for a commander who appeared to be getting softer and less willing to fight with every passing year) by a Roman general to his defeated foe must have surprised and shocked many people, not the least of them being Bato himself, who probably expected to have his head cut off or be strangled to death. The Roman historian Suetonius explains that Tiberius did this out of gratitude because Bato had once allowed Tiberius to escape when he was trapped in a dangerous place. During that event, Bato had the opportunity to kill Tiberius but chose not to. Tiberius, though getting on in years and becoming less and less inclined to the martial life, realized that he owed this rebel leader his life and also probably recognized Bato as a worthy and challenging opponent. Noble adversaries were due a certain degree of honourable treatment. So Bato was released from his chains and would spend the rest of his life in Ravenna.5

  During the early years of the first century AD, Ravenna seems to have been the unofficial ‘retirement centre’ of former Roman adversaries. Several years after the war ended in Illyricum, Thusnelda, the wife of the Germanic rebel leader Arminius, was captured and her son Thumelicus was raised in Ravenna; perhaps she lived there as well.6 A couple of years later, King Maroboduus of the Marcomanni tribe was granted permission to live in Ravenna after he had been ousted from power by Arminius.7 One wonders if the three of them – Bato, Thusnelda and Maroboduus – saw each other, talked and even ate meals together, reminiscing about the good old times when they were independent and free, and when battle and honour were everything. We hear nothing of Bato the Daesidiate after his banishment to Ravenna. The date and circumstances of his death are not recorded.

  Give Credit where Credit is Due

  Both Augustus and Tiberius were permitted to add the title imperator to their various other titles. Tiberius was granted a triumph and received various other honours. Although his nephew Germanicus was not awarded a triumph for his efforts during the war, he was nevertheless given the various ornaments bestowed during a triumph and was given the rank of praetor. Moreover, Germanicus was given the privileges of casting his vote immediately after the ex-consuls and having himself hold the consulship earlier than otherwise would have been allowed. Two triumphal arches were erected within Pannonia in commemoration of the victory over the Illyrian rebels, further driving home the message to the cowed Pannonian Illyrians that Rome was indeed their master.8

  In addition to this, some recommended that Tiberius should be given an honorific agnomen like his younger brother Drusus who, after such a valiant campaign in the wilderness of western Germania almost twenty years earlier, had been bestowed the honorific name Germanicus, a name that would be passed on to his children. Some recommended the agnomen Pannonicus, ‘Victor of Pannonia’, others Invictus ‘the Undefeated’ and others Pius ‘the Devout’. Caesar Augustus, however, flatly rejected awarding his stepson an agnomen, stating that Tiberius would be satisfied enough with receiving his stepfather’s surname when he died. In other words, Tiberius would be made the next emperor and he would take the name ‘Caesar’.9

  Some people didn’t get the credit that they should have. Aelius Lamia, an old commander who had fought in the war, ‘who always tempered his old-fashioned dignity by a spirit of kindliness, had performed splendid service in Germany and Illyricum, and was soon to do so in Africa, but failed to receive triumphal honours, not through any fault of his, but through lack of opportunity.’10

  However, the time for merriment and celebration would be cut short. Scarcely had victory over the Illyrian rebels been won when terrible news arrived from Germania. The 17th, 18th and 19th Legions had been massacred in the Teutoburg Forest, resulting in the deaths of at least 10,000 men, among them Governor Publius Quinctilius Varus. Tiberius’ triumph had already been scheduled, but he postponed it to deal with the German barbarians and their leader Arminius. A new war had begun.11

  While Cassius Dio goes into detail regarding the deeds of Drusus Claudius Nero Germanicus during the Great Illyrian Revolt, Gaius Paterculus speaks little of the conduct and achievements of Germanicus other than stating that he had been dispatched to Dalmatia by Tiberius to act as a vanguard and had performed admirably in the service of the former consul Gaius Vibius Postumus. This man is described as ‘the governor of Dalmatia’, but the province wasn’t split in half to create the provinces of Pannonia and Dalmatia until after the revolt was over, so this might be an historical error on Paterculus’ part.12

  Reconsolidation of Illyria

  Now that the Great Illyrian Revolt was over, the Romans had to ensure that Illyria remained peaceful, obedient and submissive, now and for all time. For the past two-hundred years, the Romans had tried in piecemeal ways to bring stability to this region and they had always failed. They could not afford to have another war like this happen ever again.

  Yet what could the Romans do? What method would work now when every other method that they used in the past hadn’t? Unfortunately, the empire could not focus its attention on how to stabilize Illyria after the revolt was concluded because now it had to worry about the German rebels in the north. So while Tiberius and Germanicus readied their forces following the shock of the massacre of three legions in the Teutoburg Forest, the Illyrians were left alone. As far as we know, the only thing that was done was to divide the province of Illyricum in half, at least into two zones of military administration. The southern half was known as ‘Illyricum Superius’ and the northern half was called ‘Illyricum Inferius’; for some reason, the Romans opted not to use the more well-known geographic names of Dalmatia and Pannonia. Each of these halves had a military commandant installed to oversee affairs within their respective area of operations.13

  One would think that this would have been a golden opportunity for the Illyrians to rise up against the Romans yet again, to attack them while they were distracted elsewhere. Indeed, in hindsight, the Romans were very grateful that the Illyrian uprising ended just before Arminius’ Germanic uprising began. Suetonius states that no one doubted that if the Great Illyrian Revolt had not been put down when it was, the Germanic barbarians surely would have joined forces with the Illyrian rebels and it would have been all the harder for the Romans to defeat the combined foe.14

  However, it seems that the Illyrians were in no mood to go on fighting. They were thoroughly exhausted after three and a half years of virtually non-stop bloodshed and destruction. Many of their towns and cities were in blackened charred ruins, their farms and pastures had been ravaged and stripped bare, and an incalculable number of people
had perished. Quite simply, they were worn out. Even if they wanted to reinitiate hostilities, what could they possibly do? The fighting force of the Illyrian people had been drastically reduced. Perhaps as much as a tenth of the region’s population had been destroyed, maybe even more. What could a few survivors do against the ever-mighty Roman legions? No, it would be better not to waste the effort on such a foolish endeavour. So the Illyrians remained quiet.

  Knowing this, or at least guessing it, Tiberius and other military commanders could afford to leave behind a small security force in Illyria to maintain order while the bulk of their men were speedily transferred to the north to attack the Germans in retribution for the disaster at Teutoburg. Three legions – the 8th Legion Augusta, the 9th Legion Hispania and the 11th Legion Apollinaris – were posted to Pannonia, and another two – the 7th Legion and the 11th Legion – were kept in Dalmatia. The gamble seems to have worked exactly the way that Tiberius and others guessed, because we hear no word of any disturbances in Illyria during this time.15

 

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