Ancient History & Civilisation

Notes

PROLOGUE

1 Rakob 1984, 8. Such was the pace of redevelopment that street levels rose almost to the height of houses’ floors, so that if the city had not been destroyed in 146 BC some kind of drastic remodelling would have been required (Rakob 1984, 238).

2 Ibid., 8–10; 1989, 156.

3 Hurst & Stager 1978 on the activities at Carthage’s commercial port.

4 Hurst 1994, 33–52, on Carthage’s war harbour.

5 Docter et al. 2006, 66–7 on garbage collection in Carthage.

6 Lancel 1988, 85–6 1995, 426. These pits may have also contained the remains of those killed during the final Roman assault.

7 The German archaeologist Friedrich Rakob has tentatively identified this temple (probably the home of the Carthaginian god Reshef, but associated by the Greeks with their own deity Apollo) with a religious sanctuary destroyed by fire that he uncovered near to the ports area (Rakob 1995, 420ff., 432 ff.).

8 Rakob 1984, 3ff.

9 This description of the fall of Carthage is primarily based on the version provided by the Greek historian Appian (8.19.127–31), who had himself extensively used the no-longer-extant eyewitness account of Polybius.

INTRODUCTION

1 Silius Italicus Pun. 2.395–456.

2 Starks 1999, 257–60; Prandi 1979. Although a number of scholars have pointed out that the shield scenes pose uncomfortable questions about faithlessness for both Carthaginians and Romans–Hannibal is shown breaking his treaty with Rome, while Aeneas callously deserts his lover Dido in order to go off to Italy where his ancestors will eventually found Rome –the fact is that the whole question of fides (faithfulness) was a Roman obsession which is here imposed upon the Carthaginians. For further reading on Hannibal’s armour see Vessey 1975, Campus 2003a.

3 Huss 1985, 53–5; Dubuisson 1983; Isaac 2004, 325–35.

4 Pliny NH 18.22.

5 Timaeus of Tauromenium: see pages 14–15 below for a discussion of this historian.

6 Sallust Hist. 1.9; Velleius Paterculus 2.1; Orosius 4.23, 5.8.

7 R. Miles 2003.

8 Velleius Paterculus 2.19.4; Plutarch Mar. 40.4.

9 Franko 1994, 154.

10 Brecht 1951.

11 Schmidt 1953, 604—9.

12 As proof of the pervasiveness of the epithet, see W. McGurn, Perfidious Albion: The Abandonment of Hong Kong (Washington DC, 1991).

13 The Jeffersonian Encyclopaedia 1900, 305; reproduced in Schmidt 1953, 611 n. 35.

14 Bernal 1987, 350—52.

15 Schmidt 1953, 610–11; Bernal 1987, 352–5.

16 Lancel 1995, 441–4.

17 See Green 1982 for a useful contextualization of Salammbô.

18 Sainte-Beuve 1971, 437.

19 Cullingford 1996, 225–7, 234; Lennon 2004, 84–5.

20 Byron, Don Juan, 8.23.3–7.

21 See for instance Seamus Heaney’s North, published in 1975 (Cullingford 1996, 228–30), Brian Friel’s Translations (1980) or Frank McGuinness’s Carthaginians 1988 (Van Weyenberg 2003).

22 For instance: Emanuel Omoh Esiemokhai, Iraq the New Carthage: International Law and Diplomacy in the Iraq Crisis (Ife-Ife, 2003); Richard Gwyn, ‘An iron-fisted foreign policy: Bush’s hard line on Iraq serves notice that no Carthage will be allowed to rise to challenge today’s Rome’ (Toronto Star, 18 September 2002). Even works such as Alan Wilkins’s play Carthage Must be Destroyed (London, 2007) that made no explicit reference to the Iraq war attracted reviews that made that connection.

23 Schurmann 1998.

24 In this context it is interesting to note the Tunisian journalist Mezri Haddad’s book Non Delenda Carthago: Carthage ne sera pas détruite (Monaco, 2002), which attacks the criticism directed at his country by the French press.

25 For the dangers of viewing the Carthaginians as merely passive victims of Roman aggression see Eckstein 2006, 158–76.

26 Rakob 1995, 420ff., 432 ff.

27 Hidden texts = Plutarch Mor. 942C; Krings 1991, 654–6. Recently a Carthaginian ‘strongbox’ was found by excavators, although it contained ritual vessels and ochre rather than traces of religious texts (Docter et al. 2006, 67–75). Punic histories = Servius Aen. 1.343, 1.738. Roman claims to have used Punic texts = Sallust Jug. 17.7. For modern speculation about an official history of Carthage see Huss 1985, 505. One particular Punic inscription (CIS i.5510) has been interpreted as a brief historical description of the conclusion of a Carthaginian military campaign against the Greek Sicilian city of Acragas in the winter of 406 BC. For a discussion of this inscription see Schmitz 1994.

28 Pliny, NH 18.22. Two Greek translations were also independently made of the text (Devillers & Krings 1994, 492).

29 Devillers & Krings 1994, 490.

30 Heurgon 1976.

31 He also wrote a history of the war between Pyrrhus, king of Epirus, and the Romans. For a full study of Timaeus see Vattuone 1991.

32 Pearson 1975, 172–8.

33 Pearson 1987, 157–63, 238, 245–50.

34 Diodorus 13.43.6.

35 Ibid. 11.1.4.

36 Ibid. 12.26a–b.

37 Ibid. 20.14.1–7, 13.86.3, 20.65.1.

38 Ibid. 13.3.4.

39 Ibid. 13.57.4–5, 13.86.2–3.

40 Ibid. 13.90.1–6.

41 Hoyos 2003, 212—22; Lancel 1999, 25—8.

42 Livy (21.38.3) had also read the work of Cincius Alimentus, who had actually been a prisoner of Hannibal during the Second Punic War.

43 For studies of Polybius’ Histories see Champion 2004, Walbank 1957–79.

44 Walbank 1985, 262–79.

45 Ibid., 272, although one of the accusations that Polybius levelled at Timaeus was his own contemptuous treatment of other historians.

46 Walbank 1957—79, I: 63–130; 1985, 77–98; Scuderi 2002, 277–84.

47 Plutarch Pomp. 11.3–4.

48 Harden 1939, 12. For other archaeological evidence of the burning down of the city see Docter et al. 2006, 75–6.

49 Lancel 1995, 199–204.

50 Huss 1985, 481—3.

51 Lipiński 1988b, 169–74.

52 Ibid.

53 Dubuisson 1983; Starks 1999, 259–60.

54 Bernal 1987, 352, 355.

55 Like many Punic monuments, the monument has been extensively damaged by earthquakes and later urban development, but enough of it has survived for the building to be painstakingly re-created by archaeologists. The problem that any student of Punic architecture faces is the same as that of the literary scholar: a lack of material. Later Roman urban development and deliberate destruction have left little behind. The few remaining examples that have survived not only ancient but also modern vandalism tend to be located in North Africa on the eastern and western fringes of the Carthaginian territory. For the ongoing controversy over the origins of Leptis Magna, Oea and Sabratha see Longerstay 1995, 828–33. Nor was the Sabratha monument a one-off. A similar structure was excavated a mere 100 metres away from it in Sabratha, and another mausoleum has been found near Oran in western Algeria.

56 Di Vita 1976.

57 For instance the Aeolic style of capital with its scrolled volutes that resembled ram’s horns with a palm leaf in between, which had been long unfavoured in the Greek world, was from the fourth century BC very popular in Punic architecture (Lancel 1995, 311).

58 Clothes = Maes 1989. Language = Thuillier 1982; Lancel 1995, 275–6. Literature = Cornelius Nepos Hann. 23.13.2; Dio 13.54.3. Philosophy = Diogenes Laertius Herillus 7.1.37.3.165; Iamblichus Pythagorean Life 27, 36.

59 For a study of archaic Greece’s debt to Near Eastern cultures see Burkert 1992.

CHAPTER 1 : FEEDING THE BEAST: THE PHOENICIANS AND THE DISCOVERY OF THE WEST

1 Grayson 1991, 193—223. (Tr. in Melville et al. 2006, 288—9.)

2 The Assyrian king Tiglathpileser I (r. 1114–1076 BC) had marched into Phoenicia and received a vast amount of tribute from the rulers of the city states there (Moscati 1968, 10).

3 Kuhrt 1995, 483—7.

4 Ibid., 473–8 on Assyrian annals and other historiographical sources. Liverani 1979, 297–317 and Reade 1979 on ideology and propaganda in Assyrian art. Kuhrt 1985, 501–23 on Assyrian imperial ideology and empire. Oded 1979 on the extensive use of deportation by Assyrian monarchs.

5 Documents exist from as early as the fifteenth century BC recording how the Egyptian pharaoh Tuthmosis III, conscious of the lack of large trees in his homeland, marched his troops into Phoenicia and set about organizing annual wood shipments back to Egypt (Markoe 2000, 15).

6 Aubet 2001, 6–13; Huss 1985, 5ff.; Gubel 2006, 86–7. It is likely that for the Greeks ‘Phoenicians’ meant the people not just of the Levantine coast but also of the states of northern Syria (Röllig 1992, 93). For recent attempts to distinguish between northern-Phoenician/Syrian and southern-Phoenician enterprises see Fletcher 2004; 2006, 187–92; Peckham 1998. I accept that the coastal cities of northern Syria were also involved in many of the same overseas enterprises as the Levantine states, so I have included them under the Phoenicians’ aegis.

7 Aubet 2001, 144–58; Moscati 1968, 27—9. Some experts have argued that the dialect written and spoken in the northern cities of Byblos and Arvad was noticeably different from the Tyro-Sidonian dialect that predominated in the southern coastal region (Krahmalkov 2001, 7–9).

8 Liverani 1990.

9 Horden & Purcell 2000, 10–11. Harris (2005, 15) doubts the ubiquity of this name in the Near East.

10 Ezekiel 27:4.

11 Frankenstein 1979, 264.

12 Kochavi 1992, 8—13.

13 Aubet 2001, 105–14; Frankenstein 1979, 264–8.

14 Isaiah 23:8; Ezekiel 26:16. Aubet 2001, 145–7.

15 Kochavi 1992, 13–15.

16 For a general study of Phoenician material culture see Markoe 2000, 143–66.

17 Against whom spells dated to the seventh century BC have been found written in Phoenician (Clifford 1990, 58).

18 Aubet 2001, 6–9.

19 Moscati 1968, 83—4; Markoe 2000, 163–4.

20 Aubet 2001, 39–43.

21 2 Samuel, 5:10–11.

22 Josephus JA 8.50–60.

23 Ibid. 8. 58—60.

24 Ibid. 8. 76—83.

25 Josephus (ibid. 8.57) mentions grain, oil and wine.

26 Frankenstein 1979, 268.

27 Aubet 2001, 43—6.

28 Handy 1994, 3.

29 L’Heureux 1979, 69–79; Handy 1994, 65–102.

30 Clifford 1990, 59–61. She is also known as Rabbat (RBT), ‘The Lady’ or ‘The Mother’ (Krahmalkov 2000, 441).

31 In the Old Testament, the Tyrian king unsurprisingly earns himself a stern rebuke for attempting to elide the temporal and celestial worlds (Ezekiel 28:1–10).

32 Josephus JA 8.144–6, citing Menander of Ephesus.

33 Aubet 2001, 150–58; Lipiński 1970. Sacred prostitutes in the temple of Astarte also enacted the ceremony with their clients.

34 Clifford 1990, 61.

35 Ibid., 57.

36 Herodotus 2.44.

37 Nonnus Dion. 40.429–68.

38 Ibid., 40.469–534. Other Greek authors also allude to a Tyrian myth that told of how the temple was built at the same time as the city was founded 2,300 years before (Herodotus 2.44).

39 Herodotus 2.44. The emerald pillar is also mentioned in Pliny NH 37.75. Evidence from Tyre and Tyrian colonies across the Mediterranean strongly suggests that the twin pillars in the temple represented the olive tree and the eternal flames which appear in Nonnus’ foundation tale. Certainly the temple of Melqart at the Tyrian colony of Gades (Cadiz) housed a sacred fire which always burnt and a golden olive tree. It has been argued that the emerald column may have acted as a lighthouse (Katzenstein 1973, 87). However, evidence from other sites suggests that the columns were actually located inside the temple complex.

40 Another Greek myth also attributed the discovery of Tyre’s greatest export, purple dye, to the god. It was said that while the god had been strolling along the shell-strewn seashore with his lover, the nymph Tyros, his dog had bitten into one of these molluscs. Quickly realizing the potential of his pet’s stained canines, Melqart had a robe dyed to a deep purple and presented it to Tyros as a gift. Another version of the same story had the dog brought before Phoenix, the legendary king of Tyre, who decreed that this purple dye should be manufactured and used as a badge of his royal office. Later Tyrians, shrewd businessmen that they were, would do much to market this story by putting a image of the murex and the purple-toothed dog on their coinage (Aubet 2001, 6–9).

41 Cross 1972a, 36–42.

42 Hiram and then Ithobaal would also take the title of ‘king of the Sidonians’ (CIS 56).

43 Gras, Rouillard & Teixidor 1991, 136.

44 Aubet 2001, 166–75.

45 Ibid., 123–126. Much of this information comes from the Book of Ezekiel, a work written at a considerably later date in the sixth century BC, a period when Tyre no longer ruled the waves. There are sections of the text which many scholars now believe are part of an older document dating to the ninth and eighth centuries BC (Ezekiel 27:9–25; see Aubet 2001, 121–2 for these arguments).

46 Aubet 2001, 50–51.

47 Markoe 1992. Boardman (2004, 154—5) thinks that the perfume enterprise on Rhodes is more likely to be Greek, although he does not take enough account of the Levantine shape of the perfume flasks.

48 Shaw & Shaw 2000; Boardman 1980, 57ff. The considerable quantity of Levantine pottery discovered at the site suggests a great deal of trading activity between Kommos and Phoenicia.

49 Coldstream 2003, 358–66. Röllig 1992, 95 for the idea that these were Phoenicians and other people from the Near East at Athens and Crete, fleeing the conquest of the Assyrian king Sargon II. Burkert 1992, 21–4 for the suggestion that these craftsmen probably travelled over with merchants. On different aspects of the orientalizing phenomenon in the archaic Mediterranean world see the assortment of essays in Riva & Vella (eds.) 2006.

50 Copper ingots as well as considerable quantities of pottery from Cyprus were being exported to the Levantine coast from the fourteenth and thirteenth centuries BC. Cypriots are also listed as residents of the merchant quarters of Ugarit from this period (Kochavi 1992, 10–13).

51 Aubet 2001, 147. An inscription records a Tyrian governor of ‘Carthage’ on Cyprus (CIS 56). However, it is as yet unclear whether Kition was in fact this Carthage or another, as yet undiscovered, site.

52 Josephus JA 8.146. An early-ninth-century Cypriot inscription has been interpreted by one translator as a memorial to a Tyrian commander who boasts how his troops devastated the island (KAI 30, ll. 1–3). An even earlier inscription, from the twelfth century BC, found near Ghaza proclaims that the god Baal had devastated Cyprus and has been interpreted as showing a history of violent Phoenician intervention on the island (Cross 1980, 2—3).

53 Karageorghis 1998.

54 Aubet 2001, 155.

55 Frankenstein 1979, 269.

56 Postgate 1974.

57 Postgate 1969; 1979, 200–214.

58 Kuhrt 1995, 518–19.

59 Russell 1991.

60 Postgate 1979, 218; Aubet 2001, 90–92; Frankenstein 1979, 272—3.

61 Frankenstein 1979, 286.

62 Aubet 2001, 90–92.

63 Frankenstein 1979, 273.

64 Recent excavations in the south-western Spanish port of Huelva appear to provide strong evidence of Phoenician commercial activity in the ninth century (González de Canales, Serrano & Llompart 2006). For this view see Gubel 2006, 87; Fletcher 2006, 191. For scepticism towards precolonizing Phoenician activity in the central and western Mediterranean see Aubet 2001, 200–211; Van Dommelen 1998, 71—5.

65 Giardino 1992; Van Dommelen 1998, 75—6.

66 Van Dommelen 1998, 76—80.

67 Stos-Gale & Gale 1992, 317–37.

68 Fletcher’s (2004 & 2006) interesting thesis that such cooperation and incorporation into indigenous communities was the work of Sidonian merchants who would eventually be superseded by Tyrian colonizers is attractive but at the moment unproven.

69 Ridgway 1992, 120.

70 D’Oriano & Oggiano 2005. The settlement seems to have been abandoned in the late sixth century BC.

71 Rendeli 2005, 92–7; Ridgway 2004, 16–19. There has been a long and increasingly rancorous debate over the exact nature of Euboean and Phoenician colonization, trade and interactions in the Mediterranean. For a sample of it see Snodgrass 1994; Papadopoulos 1997; S. Morris 1998; Ridgway 1994; 2000, 183–5; 2004, 22–8; Boardman 2005.

72 Tandy 1997, 66–70.

73 Niemeyer 1990.

74 Nijboer 2005.

75 Markoe 1992, 62—73. In contrast to the enormous appetite for silver in the Near East and Etruria, in Greece there is almost a complete absence of decorated silver work in the seventh century BC. Bronze would remain the precious metal most used for offerings at important Greek sanctuaries. A good deal of orientalizing silver work was produced in Etruria during this time, introducing Near Eastern designs and motifs as well as very particular smithing skills such as granulation, punch-work and filigree, which suggest the presence of Phoenician artisans in central Italy. An orientalizing tradition would become important in areas of Etruscan art (ibid., 78).

76 Malkin 2002.

77 Snodgrass 1971, 304–13; Chadwick 1976, 188–93.

78 Popham, Sackett & Themelis (eds.) 1979. Many of the artefacts display clear Egyptian influences. There is no recorded Greek contact with Egypt until the seventh century BC. Another important factor is the lack of Euboean staging posts on the long and arduous journey across the open sea to the Levant.

79 Niemeyer 1984, 19.

80 Coldstream 1982; Hudson 1992, 138–9.

81 Coldstream 1988. Considerable quantities of ninth-century-BC Euboean pottery have been discovered at Tyre (Bikai 1978).

82 Strøm 1992, 48–9, 57–60. Particularly popular in Greece were large bronze cauldrons decorated with winged siren and bull-head attachments, many of which originally hailed from northern Syria (Muscarella 1992, 40–43). Others think that they are more likely to have been offerings from Levantine visitors. There is also some suggestion that these cauldrons may have been transported overland through Asia Minor rather than by sea (Röllig 1992, 97–102).

83 There have been many attempts to prove that Al Mina was an Euboeancontrolled settlement (e.g. Boardman 2002 & 2005). However, although it is certainly the case that a large quantity of Greek pottery was found at Al Mina, the fact is that a far greater amount of Levantine material was also discovered there–although it never received the same attention as the Greek material, since archaeologists were excited by the possibility of having found evidence of one of the first Hellenic colonies in the Near East. Furthermore, the Greek pottery that has been found covers far too narrow a range to be evidence of a functioning Greek colony. The vast majority of the ceramics is made up of drinking vessels, which suggests that Al Mina was actually a centre for the import and export of luxury rather than subsistence goods (Tandy 1997, 65). There is a distinct possibility that at least some of the pots attributed to mainland Greece were the products of Phoeniciandominated Cyprus, where such ‘Greek’ styles were already being turned out. Clay analysis suggests that they may have been manufactured in eastern Cyprus. This would also explain the marked difference in quality between real Euboean skyphoi–deep drinking-cups with two handles and a low foot—and those from Al Mina. There is also a question over whether this particular form of skyphos was being produced during this period on the Greek mainland. There is every reason, therefore, to conclude that these were Near Eastern imitations of Greek pottery (Kearsley 1989). Thus, as we have seen in the West, Al Mina may actually show the real strength of an increasingly independent Phoenician Cyprus. Kearsley’s interpretation of the dating of the ‘Euboean skyphoi’ from Al Mina has been criticized by Popham & Lemos (1992, 154–5), who argue that many of them should be given a much earlier dating, putting the Euboeans at Al Mina by 800 BC. However, as Snodgrass (1994, 4—5) has pointed out, the vast majority of the so-called Euboean skyphoi from Al Mina are dated to after the mid eighth century BC. In fact the first evidence for Greek settlements in the Levant comes from Tell Sukas and Ras el-Bassit in the sixth century BC, but even that evidence is far from convincing (Waldbaum 1997). Furthermore, Al Mina contains none of the particular architectural characteristics associated with the Euboeans, such as thin-wood supported walls, tiled roofs and the apsidal plan (Luke 2003, 23–4). Even more tellingly, there is no evidence of Greek funerary practice in the settlement, or of Greek being spoken there. Only one potsherd has been found with a (poorly executed) Greek inscription upon it. Scholars who have recently studied it point out that the incompetence of the style suggests that the writer was inscribing a non-Greek name or phrase in unfamiliar letters. Analysis of the clay used in the potsherd also suggests that the vessel was not made in Al Mina (ibid., 12, 24). For a convincing set of arguments that Al Mina has to be understood within a north-Syrian context while more generally pointing out the dangers of seeing mercantile activity in the eastern Mediterranean as a bipolar division between Greeks and Phoenicians, see Hodos 2006, 25–88.

84 S. Morris & Papadopoulos 1998.

85 Kopcke 1992, 103–13. Burkert 1992 is the classic study on the relationship between Near Eastern and Greek culture. For the great influence that the Near East had on Greek art see S. Morris 1992. The influence was particularly great on the development of Greek religion in the archaic period. Although a number of the major Greek deities can be traced back to the Mycenaean period, aspects of devotional ritual appear to have hailed directly from the Near East. These included hepatoscopy (the gleaning of omens from the livers of sacrificial victims), purification through blood sacrifice, ecstatic divination where the divinity spoke directly through the mouth of the priest or priestess, and the practice of attempting to soothe the spirits of the dead through gifts and offerings and sometimes invoking them to do others harm through magic spells (Burkert 1992, 46—82). Other fundamental aspects of Greek religious ritual also hailed from the Near East, including the tradition of banqueting at sanctuaries, the use of large altars for the incineration of offerings, and even the building of temples to house the gods and the representation of gods as cult statues (Strøm 1992, 55—6; Burkert 1992, 19–21). In regard to the temples, Kopcke (1992, 110—12) has made the important point that it was the idea of temples rather than the exact architectural/liturgical blueprint that the Greeks received from the Levant. They also adopted the practice of placing offerings in the foundations of religious buildings, which was popular among the Assyrians (Burkert 1992, 53–5). Outside the cultural sphere, some scholars have even speculated that some of the new city states that sprang up around Greece borrowed their political systems from the Phoenicians. Certainly the very particular constitutional set-up at Sparta appears to have been very similar to the governmental systems of the Phoenician cities (Drews 1979).

86 Coldstream 1982, 269–72; Isserlin 1991; Einarson 1967.

87 Hence the Greek words for their letters (alpha, beta, gamma, delta etc.) are also of Semitic origin (Burkert 1992, 28—9).

88 It is generally agreed that the Greek alphabet came into existence in the early eighth century BC. However, some have tried to push this as far back as the fourteenth century BC (Bernal 1990). There is a wide collection of studies on the introduction of the alphabet into Greece in Baurain, Bonnet & Krings (eds.) 1991, 277–371. Greek letters appear at Athens, the Greek island of Naxos and Pithecusa by the mid eighth century BC (Burkert 1992, 26). However, there are some scholars who argue that in fact the Greek alphabet was formulated in the eleventh century BC from proto-Canaanite, the written language from which Phoenician was derived (Naveh 1980). As yet there is no evidence of any Greek writing before the eighth century BC. It was generally accepted by later Greeks that their alphabet had been derived from the Phoenician one, hence the name given to it:Phoinikeia grammata (‘Phoenician letters’).

89 Burkert 1992, 33–40; Lancel 1995, 351–3.

90 Hudson 1992, 134–5. For weights and measures, see Lydus Liber de Mensibus 1.9.

91 Lloyd 1975, 54.

92 As well as Thucydides (1.13) there was Diodorus (14.42.1–3) and Pliny NH 7.207. However, according to Clement of Alexandria (Stromateis 1.16.76), it was the Phoenicians who invented the trireme, and Pliny the Elder (NH 7.208) contended that Aristotle believed the Carthaginians to be responsible for the quadrireme. Lloyd is certainly right to contend that it is dangerous to mine Christian polemic for empirical facts, but goes too far in arguing that Clement’s claim that the Phoenicians invented the trireme is ‘historically worthless’ (Lloyd 1975, 49–51; 1980, 197). Some of Clement’s claims are certainly correct.

93 That is when Polycrates, ruler of Samos, sent forty triremes to take part in the Persian naval expedition to Egypt (Herodotus 3.44). The arguments of Lloyd (1975, 52–4) that there is good evidence for the trireme being developed by the Corinthians in the seventh century BC rely on a fragmentary source writing during the reign of the Roman emperor Augustus, supported by the somewhat tenuous use of modern precedents to explain why the Greeks take advantage of this technology earlier than the Phoenicians. Furthermore, Thucydides never made the claim that it was the Corinthians who had invented the trireme: merely that they had been the first Greeks to build one before its designer, a certain Ameinocles, went to Samos, where he built a further four of these vessels (1.13).

94 Despite the ingenuous efforts of Lloyd 1975, 55—7. Lloyd’s (1980, 196–7) questioning of Phoenician involvement in the Memphite dockyard of Prwnfr during this period does not undermine this wider point. For the Phoenicians supplying timber to Egypt see Basch 1969, 231ff.

95 Basch 1977, 1–8; 1980, 199.

96 There were clearly differences between the Phoenician and the Greek craft. According to Herodotus (8.118–19), the Phoenician triremes had a continuous deck. Plutarch (Them. 14.2) also drew a clear distinction between the light, low Greek ships and their taller ‘barbarian’ counterparts with higher poops and decks. The Phoenician trireme also appears to have had a slightly different design of stern, carried shields along the gunwale, and had a differently shaped ram (Lloyd 1975, 48).

97 Plato Phaed. 109B.

98 Abulafia 2005, 64–9. For a wide-ranging study of the ancient and medieval Mediterranean that explores these ideas see Horden & Purcell 2000, as well as a collection of well-considered responses to the book in Harris 2005.

99 Homer Iliad 23.740–45, 6.286–96.

100 Homer Odyssey 15.415–16. Capomacchia 1991.

101 Homer Odyssey 15.498–615, 14.287–300.

102 Winter 1995.

103 Van Dommelen 1998, 80—81, 111.

104 Trump 1992, 198–203; Bonzani 1992, 210—20. This transformation of the Nuragic landscape is perhaps best reflected in the change in design and function of the nuraghi. In the first millennium BC, some classic nuraghi –usually consisting of a fortified single tower whose existence appears to have been very much concerned with status and ownership within the community—developed into more complex structures. Extra towers and connecting walls were now added, which suggests that these particular nuraghi had become primarily military fortresses. Often these complexes seem to have developed villages around them, suggesting that the population were now living within a complex, socially stratified community (Ugas 1992, 229—30).

105 See the arguments of Rendeli 2005 for an initial considerable Euboean presence in Sulcis.

106 Giardino 1992, 304.

107 González de Canales, Serrano & Llompart 2006.

108 Lipiński 2004, 234–47. There is no consensus on the meaning of the Nora Stone. Peckham (1972) argued that the stele described Milkaton’s ship(s) being blown away from Spain in a storm and safely landing in Sardinia. Cross (1972b) favoured interpreting it as describing a military expedition to Sardinia and ‘Tarshish’ as a settlement on the island which Milkaton and his troops had captured before the establishment of a truce with the indigenous people of the island. Cross also translated Pmy (-yton) as Pygmalion, the ninth-century-BC king of Tyre, who had authorized Milkaton’s expedition, rather than as the god Pummay. Cross (1987) takes another very fragmentary inscription found at Nora as evidence for Phoenician activity on Sardinia in the eleventh century BC, but this is rather tenuous.

109 Diodorus 5.35.4–5.

110 Frankenstein 1979, 288.

111 Niemeyer 1990, 471—2.

112 Nijboer & Van de Plicht 2006. Phoenician pottery from that period has been found at the port of Huelva.

113 Aubet 2001, 281–3.

114 Strabo 3.5.5.

115 Diodorus 5.20.3.

116 Aubet 2001, 186–91.

117 Herodotus 4.152; Aubet 2001, 279–80, for the ore equivalence.

118 Aubet 2006, 96–105; Van Dommelen 2006, 124–6.

119 Aubet 2006, 106.

120 In some Near Eastern states such as the north-Syrian state of Ugarit, the head of the merchants’ guild and some of its members had actually received a regular salary from the royal palace. In return the merchants sometimes acted as the king’s envoys (Kochavi 1992, 13–14).

121 Aubet 2001, 116–19.

122 Strabo 3.5.5; Philostratus Apollon. 5.4.

123 Strabo 3.5.7. When discussing the spring, Strabo cites Polybius. It is interesting to note that Nonnus also makes much of supposed springs in his Tyrian foundation myth.

124 Aubet 2006, 106.

125 A third-century-AD visitor to the sanctuary, Apollonius of Tyana, asked the temple priests about the meaning of these strange inscriptions, but they could offer no explanation. Apollonius would come up with his own explanation that ‘These pillars bind Earth and Heaven together, and he [the creator] inscribed them himself in the house of the Fates, to ensure that there was no strife between the elements, and that they should not neglect the affection that they feel for each other’ (Philostratus Apollon. 5.4–5).

126 Justin 44.5.2.

127 Silius Italicus (Pun. 3.14–44), although writing a rather blowsy and overblown epic for a Roman audience in the second century AD, gives a useful account of the temple of Melqart at Gades. The doors of the sanctuary on to which, according to Silius, the labours of Heracles were etched must have been a later development or even a product of his extremely lively imagination. For other mentions of sacrificial rites at the sanctuary see Diodorus 5.20.2.

128 In a clear reference to the egersis of Melqart, Philostratus stated that the people of Gades were ‘the only people to celebrate Death’ (Apollon. 5.4).

129 Pausanias 10.4.6.

130 Aubet 2001, 273–9.

131 Aubet 2001, 55—7.

132 Moscati 1968, 19–21; Aubet 2001, 57—9.

133 Aubet 2001, 57.

CHAPTER 2: NEW CITY: THE RISE OF CARTHAGE

1 Justin (18.4) calls the exiles ‘princes’, which may suggest that they were part of that elite group the Tyrian ‘merchant princes’.

2 Baurain 1988, 21–2; Scheid & Svenbro 1985, 329, 338.

3 Scheid & Svenbro 1985, 334–8.

4 Bunnens 1986, 124–5, for the parallel with American Thanksgiving.

5 Scheid & Svenbro 1985, 329, 338.

6 Krahmalkov 1981.

7 For the general problem of marrying the literary testimony with the archaeological record see Bunnens 1979, 299–320.

8 New radio-carbon analysis might push this back to around 800 BC (Docter et al. 2006, 39).

9 For convincing arguments against treating Philo of Byblos as a reliable source for the early Phoenician world see Barr 1974 and Edwards 1991.

10 Philistus Fr. 47, FGH, IIIB: 564; Appian 8.1.1 (in which ‘Azoros’ had become ‘Zoros’); Lancel 1995, 20–22.

11 Huss 1985, 405—6.

12 Aubet 2001, 227; Bordreuil & Ferjaoui 1988.

13 The linguistic footprint of Punic shows that it was an amalgam of a number of different Phoenician dialects. Certain religious practices such as the use of red ochre in Punic funerary rituals point to a strong native Libyan element (Benichou-Safar 1982, 265–6; Lancel 1995, 53; Docter et al. 2006, 35).

14 Unfortunately, as with the vast majority of public structures in Punic Carthage, no traces of the temples of these deities have been found. However, several smaller temples have been discovered in Carthage as well as at important religious centres in other areas of the Punic West. Melqart temple inscription = CIS i.4894, 5575. Astarte as the consort of Melqart = CIS i.250, 2785, 4839, 4850, 5657. The temple of Eshmoun situated on the summit of the Byrsa hill was the most famous temple in Carthage.

15 Diodorus 20.14.2; Polybius 31.12; Arrian Anabasis 2.24.5; Quintus Curtius Rufus 4.2.10; Aubet 2001, 157. Some scholars have argued that the potential links with Cyprus revealed in the foundation myth reflect the reality of a strong Cypriot element among the city’s early population (Kourou 2002, 102–5). However, the material evidence for an early Cypriot involvement with Carthage is not particularly strong compared with that for other areas of the Greek world (ibid., 90–92; Bisi 1988, 31).

16 Niemeyer 1990, 487.

17 Bunnens (1979) has speculated that Carthage started not as a deliberate colonial venture but as a trading post with a resident group of merchants like the other western Phoenician settlements, and that it was only later that the Carthaginians reinvented their past as an exceptional colonial establishment. There is little doubt that a process of rebranding did take place as Carthage became more powerful, but part of this success was based on the particularity of its circumstances as a planned colonial establishment. Baurain (1988) has ingeniously suggested that this myth may in fact be the result of a misappropriation of a foundation myth relating instead to the city of Carthage on the island of Cyprus. However, this thesis is founded on the mistaken belief that the literary accounts and archaeological evidence need to correlate with each other. There is little reason not to believe that the myth does relate to African Carthage.

18 Kourou 2002, 92–7.

19 Niemeyer & Docter 1993; Vegas 1999; Kourou 2002, 92–6.

20 Docter 2000b.

21 Briese & Docter 1992; Kourou 2002, 101–2. However, Boardman’s (2006, 199) suggestion that Carthage may well have been originally a ‘multi-national comptoir’ exaggerates the Euboean influence on the early settlement.

22 Niemeyer & Docter 1993, 213–14.

23 Van Zeist, Bottema & Van de Veen 2001.

24 Van Wijngaarden-Bakker 2007, 846–8.

25 Bechtold 2008, 75–6; Fentress & Docter 2008, 2–3.

26 Docter et al. 2006, 39–43.

27 Ibid., 39–45.

28 For the possible existence of an older, eighth-century-BC, cemetery in Carthage see Docter et al. 2003, 46–8; 2006, 43–5.

29 Lancel 1995, 51–5.

30 Benichou-Safar 1982, 262, 272–85; Tore 1995; Debergh 1973, 241–2; Gsell 1924, 457—8.

31 Fantar 1979, 12–15; Dussaud 1935, 270; Gsell 1924, 457.

32 Virolleaud 1931, 355; Dussaud 1935, 269; Díes Cusí 1995, 413–14.

33 Aubet 2001, 219; Lancel 1995, 45; Docter et al. 2006, 39–40.

34 Lancel 1995, 60–76. The continued strong Levantine influence can also be ascertained by the wide-scale production at Carthage of decorated ostrich eggs, which were exported throughout the western Phoenician world and were often part of grave-good assemblages. The significance of ostrich eggs appears to have been their association with the existence in Phoenician religious thought of a great ‘cosmic egg’ which when split in two represented the primordial separation between the heavens and the earth. Carthage’s location in Africa must have ensured a steady supply of these eggs (Ribichini 1995, 338).

35 Van Dommelen 1998, 81–84; 2006, 127–30. This might also explain Phoenician burials on Sardinia which contained ingots of metal among the grave assemblages (Fletcher 2006, 179–80).

36 Fentress & Docter 2008, 3. In Carthage, archaeologists have discovered considerable numbers of Nuragic amphorae that were used for the transport of food and other raw materials. At the Phoenician settlement of Sant’ Imbenia the remains of a metal-workshop store have been found containing 20 kilograms of copper bars, which suggests that this may have been a centre for processing metal ore.

37 Ibid.

38 The most intricate of the tombs that have been discovered consist of a burial chamber with the body housed in a stone sarcophagus or in a niche cut into the walls. Stone slabs formed a kind of pitched roof over the chamber. The frontage of the chamber was usually closed off by a blocked wall. The richest of these tombs were further embellished with fine white plaster on the internal walls and scented-wood panelling on the ceiling. However, most early Carthaginians were buried more simply, in excavated rectangular pits, boxed in by stone slabs (Lancel 1995, 46–51).

39 Herodotus 7.165–6; Diodorus 13.43.5, 14.34.5.

40 Aubet 2001, 229; Huss 1985, 496–7.

41 Sznycer 1978, 567—70.

42 Lancel 1995, 210—11. At the temple of Baal Saphon there were five different price categories: adult cattle, calves, adult sheep, lambs and, lastly, birds. For the less well-off, cheaper offerings of pastries, oil, milk and flour could also be made.

43 In several inscriptions from Carthage the title ‘Resurrector of the Divine husband of Astarte’ or ‘Awakener of the Dead God with the scent of Astronoeˉ’ (depending on the translation) appears (CIS i.227, 260–62, 377; i.5510). Most scholars agree that these are references to priests of Melqart (Lipiński 1970, 30–58; Krahmalkov 2000, 308–9; Lancel 1995, 204–7).

44 Lancel 1995, 199–204. She was often addressed on inscriptions as Rabbat (‘The Lady’ or ‘The Mother’) or Rabbatenû (‘Our Lady’).

45 Le Glay 1966, 440; Lancel 1995, 194–9. Very few examples of any iconography for Baal Hammon have been discovered, however, a fragment of a stele dating to the fifth century BC and found at a coastal settlement some 160 kilometres from Carthage shows a bearded god wearing a conical headdress and a long robe. In one hand he holds a spear, and he appears to be giving a blessing with the other.

46 Exodus 22:29. Sacrifice of kings’ sons = 2 Kings 16:3, 21:6. For studies of molk sacrifice in the Old Testament see Heider 1985. For backlash, see Deuteronomy 12:31, 18:10; Jeremiah 7:31, 19:5, 32:35; Ezekiel 20:31. For other examples of the sacrifice of sons and daughters in the Old Testament see Aubet 2001, 246–8.

47 Eusebius Evang. Praep. 1.10.44. This information was purported to have originally come from the work of Sanchuniathon, a Phoenician who lived in Berytus (modern Beirut) around 1000 BC.

48 Gianto 1987. In addition, a fire temple discovered at Amman in Jordan has produced a large number of human bones which some archaeologists have connected to sacrifice (Ottoson 1980, 101–4).

49 For the fullest studies of child sacrifice in Carthage and the Punic world see Shelby Brown 1991, Benichou-Safar 2004, Stager 1982 and Stager & Wolff 1984. In terms of ancient testament, a fragment of the fifth-century-BC Athenian dramatist Sophocles’ playAndromeda alludes to ‘foreigners’ who perform human sacrifice in honour of the god Cronus. The reason why scholars have presumed that this is a reference to the Punic world is that Cronus was the Greek equivalent of Baal Hammon, chief deity of Carthage. However, the first specific mention of child sacrifice in Carthage hails from the fourth century BC (Plato Minos 315B—C). The influential Greek philosopher Theophrastus (c.371—287 BC) also alleged that human sacrifice was a current Carthaginian practice (Fr. 13.22–6; Porphyry On Abstinence 2.27.2). The Sicilian Greek author Diodorus (13.86.3) would claim that a Carthaginian commander had sacrificed a child to Cronus as his forces besieged a city in order to elicit the support of the god. A later Roman author would claim that such was the Carthaginians’ barbarity that even the Persians, hardly known for their mildness, ordered that they cease this foul tradition (Justin 19.1.10).

50 Diodorus 20.14.4–7.

51 Cleitarchus Scholia 377A. For a similar observation see Plato Minos 315B—C.

52 Plutarch Mor. 171C—D.

53 Cintas’ chapel, which the excavator believed to be the levelling for the first Phoenician structure on the tophet, is most probably just the remains of a number of disturbed urns (Gras, Rouillard & Teixidor 1995, 273).

54 Lancel 1995, 249–50.

55 Aubet 2001, 251–2; Lancel 1995, 248–9.

56 CIS i.5507.

57 Aubet 2001, 247.

58 Several of the inscriptions from the Carthage tophet contain the formula ‘by the decree of the people of Carthage’ (Aubet 2001, 254).

59 Van Dommelen 1998, 116.

60 Van Dommelen 2006, 122—3 for the different settlement models in the far West and the central Mediterranean.

61 Evidence of Carthage’s heavy involvement in maintaining the old trading links with Greece and the Levant comes from Malta and its sister island of Gozo, key stopping-off points on the trans-Mediterranean shipping lanes, where there is clear archaeological evidence for a Carthaginian presence on the islands by the late sixth century BC (Sagona 2002, 25–53).

62 Huss 1985, 57–74.

63 Bunnens (1979) in particular presents an imperialist Carthage and erroneously pushes the idea of the Phoenicians themselves as imperialist colonizers rather than traders.

64 Schulten 1922. Most recently Braun (2004, 302) has argued as a likely guess that Carthage destroyed Tartessus around 500 BC and took over its trade.

65 Justin 44.5.1–3. This is not the only story told of tensions between the indigenous Spanish and Gades. Macrobius, a Roman author of the fifth century AD, tells the story of a certain King Theron who attacked the city (Sat. 1.20.12). See also Vitruvius 10.1–3. This much later Roman military text asserts that the battering ram had been first been used by the Carthaginians at this siege. Although no date for the incident is given by Vitruvius, he goes on to say that it was before Philip of Macedon’s siege of Byzantium of 340–339 BC, where Philip copied the same technique. The story is also mentioned by another treatise written in the earlier period (Athenaeus 4.9.3: Krings 1998, 229–60; Barcelo 1988, 1–22, 38–42).

66 Justin 18.7.1–2.

67 Ibid. 19.1.1–6; Pausanias 10.17.9

68 Van Dommelen 1998, 123–4; Tronchetti 1995, 728–9.

69 There is also clear evidence that during this period the Nuragic people were going through a period of profound social and political transformation (Webster 1996, 179–94).

70 Bechtold 2008, 75; Fentress & Docter 2008, 104.

71 Van Dommelen 2002, 130—37; 1998, 124–5.

72 Barcelo 1988, 46—7.

73 For southern Spain (Toscanos), see Wagner 1989, 150–51. For Ibiza, see Gómez Bellard 1990, 178—83. Supposedly the first Carthaginian colony was Ebusus, founded in 654 BC. However, many scholars now believe that it may initially have been a secondary foundation, possibly set up by settlers from a Phoenician settlement on the Spanish mainland, which came under Carthaginian influence only in the later decades of the sixth century BC, when the region was troubled by the collapse of the Tyrian–Iberian trading route. This change is typified by the introduction of rock-cut burial chambers, steles and statuettes.

74 Whittaker 1978.

75 Ibid., 59.

76 Fruits, cereals and vegetables = Hurst & Stager 1978, 338–40. Analysis of wood used to burn sacrificial pyres also shows evidence that from the fourth century onwards almonds, peaches, apricots and plums were being cultivated in or near Carthage (Stager 1982). Meat and fish = Van Wijngaarden-Bakker 2007, 841, 848. Dogs make up only around 3 per cent of the bone sample, but often show signs of having been butchered.

77 Bechtold 2008, 40—43; Morel 2004, 14; Lancel 1995, 257–302.

78 For evidence from field surveys in Carthage’s hinterland see Greene 1983.

79 Diodorus 20.8.3–4. One and a half centuries later, when another invading force tramped its way to Carthage, exactly the same fecundity was there to be witnessed by the awestruck troops (Appian 8.18.117).

80 Kerkouane has often been presented as an anomaly (Van Dommelen 1998, 122), but the lack of evidence for a major Punic presence in other parts of Cap Bon probably has more to do with the limited number of field surveys conducted in the region.

81 For the fullest study of Kerkouane see Fantar 1984. For a short description, Lancel 1995, 280–88.

82 There is also evidence that a number of female deities were worshipped here, including Astarte, Tanit (the mother of Sid) and Demeter.

83 Mezzolani 1999.

84 For a good study of the local Libyan populations in Iron Age North Africa see Hodos 2006, 158–99.

85 Huss 1985, 70–74. In a Greek maritime text dated to the third/second century BC, the influence that the Carthaginians possessed over large swathes of North Africa is made clear in emphatic terms. ‘As many townships or emporia as have been written about in Libya, from the Syrtis by Hesperides as far as the Pillars of Heracles in Libya, are all of the Carthaginians’ (Pseudo-Scylax 111).

86 It was in this region that the Carthaginians planted huge numbers of olive trees, the crop for which its farmland is still famous for today.

87 Bechtold 2008, 47–48, 75.

88 Greene 1986, 109–16; Fentress & Docter 2008, 105.

89 Fantar 1984.

90 Pliny NH 18.22. Fantar 1998, 118. Mago is in fact cited on 66 occasions by Greek and Roman writers (Devillers & Krings 1994, 490–92). Selection and care of cattle = Columella Agr. 6.1.3; Varro Agr. 2.5.18. On fruit trees = Pliny NH 17.63—4, 131. The Roman writer Pliny the Elder intimated that Mago was not just an agricultural specialist but had also held a generalship, which has led some to speculate that he was indeed the individual whom a Greek source said had ‘transformed the Carthaginians from the Tyrians that they had been into Libyans’ (Pliny NH 18.22). For the dating of Mago to the fifth century BC see Fantar 1998, 114–15; Lancel 1995, 257–9.

91 Hurst & Stager 1978, 338—40.

92 For evidence of the start of winemaking in Punic North Africa see Greene 2000.

93 Lancel 1995, 269–79.

94 Pytheas supposedly sailed up through the Pillars of Hercules, up the Atlantic coast of France, along the English Channel and up to Scandinavia, the Baltic region, the mouth of the river Don and even the Orkneys, before exploring the Atlantic coast all the way down to Gades. See Dion 1977, 175–222, for a full discussion of the voyage. There is, however, no evidence to back up Dion’s assertion (175–6) that the expedition had been commissioned by Alexander the Great. Dion seems to have been heavily influenced by the Hellenocentric claims of Arrian (Anabasis 5.26.1–6) that, after his conquest of Asia, Alexander intended to turn to the West.

95 Pliny NH 2.169 for the idea that they were contemporaneous and sanctioned by the Carthaginian state.

96 Bello Jiménez 2005, 17–34.

97 Festus Rufus Avienus 114–29, 380—89, 404—15. See Picard & Picard 1961, 236–7, for arguments about the veracity of Avienus’ claims. Pliny the Elder in his Natural History (2.169) also mentions Himilco’s voyage ‘to explore the outer coasts of Europe’.

98 Picard & Picard (1961, 239) argue that these monsters were probably whales, although such sea monsters are a common cliché in Greek and Roman descriptions of northern lands, and acted as a cipher for general wildness and otherness.

99 Herodotus 3.115; Diodorus 5.21.30; Strabo 2.5.15, 3.2.9, 3.5.11, 6.2.5; Pliny NH 4.119, 7.197, 34.156–8.

100 Hanno 1; Blomqvist 1979, 5. The voyage of Hanno has been variously dated by scholars to the first half of the fifth century BC (Demerliac & Meirat 1983, 9) or the first half of the sixth century BC (Lacroix 1998, 345). For the single manuscript from which thePeriplus has been dated to the tenth century AD see Lacroix 1998, 343.

101 Hanno 1—8. The two fullest attempts to track Hanno’s voyage are Demerliac & Meirat 1983 and Lacroix 1998.

102 Hanno 9–12. Others have suggested that the site of these mountains was the area around Monrovia, the capital of Liberia.

103 Hanno 13–14.

104 Lacroix 1998, 375–80.

105 Pliny NH 6.200.

106 Hanno 15–18. Some have speculated that the premature return of Hanno’s mission was a smokescreen for the fact that the Carthaginian fleet secretly carried on their journey and circumnavigated Africa (Lacroix 1998, 380–84). This relies solely on Pliny’s assertion that Hanno had successfully sailed from Gades to Arabia by circumnavigating Africa (NH 2.169). However, all other sources attest to the fact that Hanno did indeed turn back owing to lack of water, burning heat, and rivers of fire flowing into the sea (Arrian Indike 43.11—12; Pomponius Mela 3.89).

107 Bello Jiménez 2005, 56–67, 82–6. Demerliac & Meirat (1983, 64–7) suggest the more realistic number of 5,000 people.

108 J. Taylor 1982; Bello Jiménez 2005, 85–6. The suggestion that this was in fact a secret mission to break the Arab trading monopoly by bringing gold from the mines of the Zimbabwe/Transvaal region of southern Africa via the Strait of Gibraltar is extremely far-fetched (Lacroix 1998, 276—342).

109 Demerliac & Meirat 1983, 49—55.

110 Demerliac & Meirat 1983.

111 Ibid., 46–55, for a possible model of how this North Atlantic trading operation might have worked. The Carthaginians may also have been seeking regular sources of amber and copper from the Baltic and Scandinavia.

112 For the lack of archaeological evidence, Bello Jiménez 2005, 104–5.

113 Lancel (1995, 102–9) argues that the descriptions of the early stages of the voyage in terra cognita along what is now the Moroccan coast were based on historical events, but that accounts of the latter stages that describe voyaging along the coast of western sub-Saharan Africa were literary fabrications.

114 Desanges 1978, 85. ‘On ne peut au Périple arracher son revêtement grec, sans en estomper les détours jusqu’à l’inanité’ (tr. Lancel 1995, 108).

115 Lonis 1978, 147—50; Blomqvist 1979, 11. Lancel’s (1995, 106) argument against Lonis’s thesis is a qualification but not a refutation.

116 Bello Jiménez 2005, 71–81. The Canary Islands are mentioned by the Numidian king Juba II (25 BC—AD 25), who acquired much of his geographical knowledge from Punic sources (Pliny NH 6.37).

117 Herodotus 4.42; Demerliac & Meirat 1983, 30–37. Herodotus (4.43) also mentions a later, unsuccessful, attempt at circumnavigating Africa by a Persian noblemen, Sataspes. Pliny (NH 5.8) actually states that the object of the mission was the circumnavigation of Africa. This is also mentioned as the main aim of the expedition by Pomponius Mela (3.93).

118 Herodotus 4.196.

119 All black Africans were usually collectively described by the Greeks and Romans as ‘Ethiopians’.

120 Pseudo-Scylax 112.

121 This is Lancel’s (1995, 108) position, although he is sceptical of whether the latter parts of the voyage took place at all.

122 Zimmerman Munn 2003.

123 Aristotle Pol. 6.3.5.

124 Van Dommelen 1998, 115; Campus 2006.

125 Van Dommelen 1998, 124.

126 For instance, at the old Phoenician colony of Motya, in Sicily, the tophet was greatly enlarged and monumentalized with its own wall and sanctuary.

127 This was particularly the case on Sardinia, with the quantity of Attic pottery found on the island quadrupling from the first half to the second half of the fifth century BC (Tronchetti 1992, 364–77).

128 Bondì 1995b, 352.

129 Huss 1985, 498–9. Others have suggested that it may in fact have been a sign of aristocratic privilege. Bordreuil & Ferjaoui (1988, 137–42) discuss an inscription found in Tyre which mentions a ‘Son of Carthage’, and a number found in Carthage that refer to ‘Sons of Tyre’. They see these as merely an admission of the individual’s heritage rather than a legal status. Some of the outsiders appear to have been able to hold certain rights in Carthage on account of their citizenship of other Punic and Phoenician city states, with Carthaginians enjoying reciprocal privileges.

130 Peserico 1999. This was particularly true of amphorae, which by the end of the seventh century BC had become very regionally diverse across the western Phoenician world. For a good discussion of one such Phoenician grave collection found in Sardinia, see Fletcher 2006, 175–85.

131 Moscati 1986, 61–71. The steles produced in some western Phoenician cities, such as Motya and Tharros, do show clear stylistic parallels with Carthage, all displaying a strong preference for simple designs of motifs portrayed symbolically rather than representationally, such as the betyl (sacred stone) and altars and bottle shapes. Architecturally, these cities also stand out for the strong Egyptian architectural influence and the use of cippi, throne-shaped votive monuments (ibid., 74–7). These designs are very much in contrast to those at Sulcis and Monte Sirai, where the steles were decorated with motifs mainly portrayed in a realistic way. However, it is not clear whether the Sardinian and Sicilian cities had been influenced by Carthage or vice versa. There are also stylistic connections between Motya and Tharros, such as the popularity of the motif of a feminine figure clutching a religious sign or artefact to her chest, which is not found in Carthage (Moscati 1986, 78–9). It is also clear from epigraphic evidence that Phoenicians in northern Sardinia had a close relationship with the Phoenician city of Kition on Cyprus, perhaps through colonization. The oldest Phoenician inscription found in the western Mediterranean mentioned that Kition was the mother city of the Sardinian town of Nora (Krahmalkov 2001, 5).

132 Cicero Scaur. 42. There are references to ethnic groups created by the intermixing of Phoenician and Punic incomers with indigenous populations in Africa, Spain and Sardinia. On cultural hybridization in the Punic world see Van Dommelen 2006.

133 Van Dommelen 2006, 134.

134 Van Dommelen 1998, 153.

135 This idea was first formulated by Richard White in his study of the interactions between Western settlers and indigenous populations in the Great Lakes region of North America from the late seventeenth to the early nineteenth century (White, 1991). This model has been used extensively by the ancient historian Irad Malkin in relation to the archaic Mediterranean (Malkin 2002, 151–3; 2005, 238–9).

136 Some have assumed that Sid was the founder deity of Sidon (Bernardini 2005, 131), but there is no evidence to support this.

137 Barreca 1969.

138 For the votive inscriptions that they left behind see Fantar 1969.

139 Antas was by no means unique in the Punic world in this respect. The sanctuary to the goddess Astarte at Tas Silg on the island of Malta also clearly witnessed a similar symbiosis with an indigenous female deity.

140 It has been argued that one particularly famous statuette usually identified as Sid is actually of Baal Hammon; however, enough other depictions of Sid exist showing him as a warrior/hunter deity (Amadasi Guzzo 1969, 99).

141 Barreca 1979, 140.

142 De Angelis 2003, 116–18.

143 Thucydides 6.2.6.

144 Ibid. 6.2.2–6.

145 De Angelis 2003, 122—4.

146 Thucydides 6.2.6; Falsone 1995, 674.

147 Despite maintaining trade networks and establishing some new settlements and bolstering some old ones in the region, keeping the Greeks out of southern Spain was not a priority for Carthage. Indeed, the commercial vacuum created by the abandonment of Phoenician trading stations in southern Spain was increasingly filled by Greeks from Phocaea, on the Aegean coast of Asia Minor, who had established a colony at Ampurias in north-eastern Spain on what is now the Costa Brava (Dominguez 2002, 72–4).

148 Isserlin & Du Plat Taylor 1974, 50–68; De Angelis 2003, 118–20.

149 De Angelis 2003, 110–11. In less exalted indigenous communities there were also signs of growing prosperity and the adoption of some facets of Greek culture. At Monte Iato, another Greek-influenced temple was built during this period. At Segesta, an indigenous city in the western area of the island, the sixth century was a time of rapid aggrandizement and expansion. During this period the elite indigenous families began to take control of centralized institutions in their cities, while also collecting revenues and directing labour. The strong commercial and cultural contacts that the Segestan elite had with the Hellenic world are further underlined by the vast amount of Greek pottery (with some 2,300 shards with Greek writing) that has been found in the city. Yet at other indigenous settlements Greek cultural influence seems to have been strictly limited. At Monte Polizzo, in the rugged interior of western Sicily, a settlement sprang up that at its height was home to up to 1,000 people. Here, while there is some evidence of Greek influence in domestic architecture and pottery styles, this is strictly limited in scope (Morris et al. 2001, 2002, 2003; De Angelis 2003, 107–10). However, the adoption of particular aspects of Phoenician or Greek culture varied markedly from one indigenous community to another (Hodos 2006, 89–157).

150 Pausanias 10.11.3–4. Diodorus (5.9) makes no mention of the Phoenician–Elymian force, but relates that the Cnidian colonists had got themselves involved in an internecine conflict between the Segestans and Selinuntines. Krings (1998, 1—32) points to a number of elements in both texts that suggest doubt as to whether this episode really was one of the starting points for tensions between Phoenician/Punic and Greek populations. However, despite the usefulness of many of these qualifications, they do not prove that Pausanias’ account of a joint Phoenician–Elymian force is incorrect.

151 De Angelis 2003, 128–45.

152 Rocco 1970, 27–33.

153 For archaeological evidence of Carthaginian–Etruscan trade see Macintosh-Turfa 1975. Although only limited amounts of Punic material have been found in Etruscan contexts, it appears that even in the seventh century BC Carthage was supplying luxury goods to Etruria. Etruscanbucchero — a type of black pottery—was exported to Carthage in greater numbers. The importation of Etruscan bronze metals and utensils continued to the third century BC. There is little evidence for the scholarly tradition that it was the Greeks who acted as the middlemen in the trade of Etruscan and Carthaginian artefacts. It is also important to note that Etruria was not politically united. It seems clear that Carthage had diplomatic relations with at least the larger kingdoms of Tarquinii and Caere. For Tyrrhenian trade in the archaic period see Gras 1985.

154 Macintosh-Turfa 1975, 176–7.

155 It may have either served as a business card or as a label for commercial stock (Lancel 1995, 85–6; Macintosh-Turfa 1975, 177).

156 Heurgon 1966; Ferron 1972. Some scholars have argued that the dialect used on the third tablet is not Punic but Cypriot Phoenician, and that the architectural decoration in the temple itself also shows strong parallels with Phoenician Cyprus, so that the most likely scenario is that this was actually a grant of a place of worship in an already existing Etruscan temple for a community of Phoenician traders who had originally come from Cyprus (Gibson 1982, 152–3; Verzár 1980). For a summary of the academic debate surrounding the tablets see Amadasi Guzzo (1995, 670—73). However, with our limited knowledge of Phoenician or Punic, and given the close links that existed particularly between Carthage and Phoenician Cyprus, as well as the political alliances between Carthage and the Etruscan kingdoms in this period, the evidence still points towards Punic merchants, although it might very well be both.

157 Aristotle (Pol. 3.5.10–11) referred to ‘agreements about imports, and engagements that they will do each other no wrong and written articles of alliance’ between the Carthaginians and the Etruscans.

158 Aristotle Rhet. 1.12.18.

159 Herodotus 1.165–7. Krings’ (1998, 159–60) warning about viewing Alalia as part of a wider Mediterranean clash between Carthage and Greeks is, however, surely well founded.

160 Palmer 1997, 23–4. It has been plausibly suggested that this treaty may also have helped regulate Roman purchases of corn from the Punic sector of Sicily when Rome was faced with food shortages in the fifth century BC.

161 For Rome in the sixth century BC see Cornell 1995, 198–214.

162 We are once again indebted to the diligent sleuthing of Polybius, who found the bronze tablets detailing this treaty and two subsequent accords with Carthage in the Treasury of the Aediles at Rome (3.22.3). Polybius even complained of the difficulty of understanding such archaic Latin (3.22–3). For a cogent study of the treaties between Carthage and Rome see Serrati 2006.

163 Polybius 3.22.

164 Cornell 1995, 215–41.

CHAPTER 3: THE REALM OF HERACLES–MELQART: GREEKS AND CARTHAGINIANS IN THE CENTRAL MEDITERRANEAN

1 Dion 1977, 3–82; Malkin 1998, 156–257.

2 Malkin 1998, 156–77; 2002.

3 Particularly in regard to the murder of their leaders. This was true of the southern Italian towns of Croton and Locris (Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 280–81). To spare embarrassment on either side, this was usually explained as being a terrible accident in which the victim had been killed by a mistake while trying to restrain a father-in-law or some other relative who was intent on fighting Heracles or stealing his cattle.

4 Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 311. It was said that the Celts were descended from Heracles after he had slept with the daughter of the king of Galicia and produced a son variously called Galates, Keltus or Kelta, and it was also claimed that he had sired a number of children in Spain and Gaul who had gone on to be kings of various regions there. Such was the popularity of Heracles across Italy that one first-century-BC Greek historian of early Rome wrote, ‘In many other places also in Italy precincts are dedicated to this god [Heracles] and altars erected to him, both in cities and along the highways; and one could scarcely find any place in Italy in which the god is not honoured’ (Dionysius 1.40.6).

5 Jourdain-Annequin 1992, 35; Malkin 1994, 207.

6 Fabre 1981, 274–95.

7 Malkin 2005, 238–9; 2002, 157–8.

8 Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 273–4.

9 In fact a version of the Geryon story certainly existed in Greece by the eighth and seventh centuries BC. Heracles and Geryon both appear in the work of the eighth-century-BC Greek poet Hesiod (Theogony 279.979), and by the seventh century BC a version of the tale was well known enough for vase painters on the island of Samos to use it as a subject. Geryon is portrayed on pottery and texts in a number of different terrifying forms. Stesichorus described him as winged, with six hands and six feet (Stesichorus,Geryoneis Fr. S87). Apollodorus (2.107) describes him as having ‘the bodies of three men joined into one at the belly, but splitting into three again from the flanks and thighs down’.

10 Malkin 1994, 210.

11 For a detailed account of the development of the Heraclean Way, see Knapp 1986. For Heracles as an ever-evolving phenomenon in the West see Fabre 1981, 274–95; Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 221–300.

12 Dionysius 1.35.2–3; Diodorus 4.22.6, 23.1; Pausanias 3.16.4–5. For the links between Stesichorus and Heracles’ Sicilian jaunt, see Malkin 1994, 206–11. The travels of Heracles in Sicily reflected the myriad different experiences and challenges faced by the Greeks who settled on that island. Some scholars even think that the stories of Heracles in Sicily probably contain distant memories of the Bronze Age, when Mycenaean incomers clashed with the local population (Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 282–97). Many of the local leaders whom Heracles fought with could be local indigenous gods. For other possible links between the route of Heracles and the Bronze Age see Martin 1979, who points out that Heracles’ journey through mid and southern Italy mirrors the supposed migration route of the Sicels to the island of Sicily.

13 Herodotus 5.43; Diodorus 4.23.2–3; Pausanias 4.36.3.

14 Malkin 1994, 207–8.

15 Herodotus 5.42.

16 Malkin 1994, 192–203; Krings 1998, 189–95.

17 Herodotus 5.43–6; Diodorus 4.23; Pausanias 3.16. 4–5; Krings 1998, 161–215.

18 Malkin 1994, 212. Krings (1998, 202–4) expresses doubts about any self-conscious links between the two expeditions.

19 Krings 1998, 93–160.

20 Malkin 1994, 181–7.

21 Ibid., 186–7. In this case reality self-consciously followed legend (Diodorus 4.17.4–5; Pliny NH 5.35). Fifth-century Cyrenean coinage shows Heracles with a Hesperid maiden. Others would argue that in fact the garden of the Hesperides was located much further west, around the mountains of Mauritania. Heracles was also said to have founded a city called Hecatompylon, which had gone on to achieve great success and prosperity until the Carthaginians captured it (Diodorus 4.18.1–4).

22 Asheri 1988, 755.

23 De Angelis (2003, 135–6) thinks that the temple could be a temple of Apollo. For other connections between Motya and Selinus there is the wonderful tufa statue of two lions bringing down a bull at Motya. Some scholars have speculated that it may have formed part of the decoration for the gates of the fortifications. Stylistically it bears such a close resemblance to the metope of the goddess Artemis and Acteon on the famous Temple E at Selinus that many have thought that they must have been created by the same craftsmen.

24 Moscati 1986, 57–8. Their popularity was such that these figurines were soon being manufactured in large numbers in Sardinia and North Africa.

25 Acquaro 1988, 17; Moscati 1986, 51, for the two sarcophagi found at Cannita near the city of Solus and thought to have been made locally sometime in the sixth or fifth century BC. At Cannita a seated goddess flanked by sphinxes was also discovered. Thought to date to the sixth century BC, it too displays clear Greek stylistic influence.

26 Moscati 1986, 72.

27 For Punic attitudes to the nude form see Maes 1989, 22. This interpretation would certainly fit much better with what we definitely know about the statue, namely that it was found in a Punic city. For a discussion of some of the lively scholarly debate surrounding the Motya ephebe, see Lancel 1995, 322–5.

28 Herodotus 2.44.

29 Ibid. Although no archaeological evidence has been found for the Phoenician occupation of the temple of Heracles on Thasos, other Greek authors state that the worship of the hero/god on the island had Phoenician precedents. Indeed, a later Greek travel writer, Pausanias, suggests that the Thasians openly alluded to their own and Heracles’ Phoenician origins: ‘The Thasians who are Phoenicians by descent, and sailed from Tyre and from Phoenicia generally . . . dedicated at Olympia a Heracles, the pedestal as well as the image being of bronze. The height of the image is ten cubits and he holds a club in his right hand and a bow in his left. They told me that they used to worship the same Heracles as the Tyrians but that afterwards, when they were included among the Greeks, they adopted the worship of Heracles the son of Amphitryon’ (5.25.12). Heracles was not the only Greek deity claimed to have had Near Eastern precedents. Pausanias (1.14.6–7) alleged that the worship of Aphrodite was started by the Assyrians, the Paphians of Cyprus and the Phoenicians. Pausanias, an apparently open-minded man, was well aware of the close links between Greek and Phoenician religion (e.g. 7.23.7–8).

30 Pausanias 7.5.5–8. There was a certainly a strong sense of the duality of Heracles/Melqart in later periods. The third-century-AD Greek writer Philostratus (Apollon. 2.33.2) wrote about a gold shield which Heracles had lost while campaigning in India, which ‘shows that it was the Egyptian rather than Theban Heracles that reached Gadeira and was the surveyor of the earth’.

31 Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 133–45; Karageorghis 1998, 65–159, contra Yon 1986, 147–9, who suggests that in Cyprus the major associations during this period on the island may well have been between Heracles and the Phoenician warrior gods Reshef and Eshmoun (the latter of whom in the Greek world would come to be identified with Asclepius, the god of healing), as well as the Egyptian deity Bes. This clear symbiosis between Heracles and Melqart might explain the strident alacrity with which some later Greek writers aggressively dismissed Herodotus’ explanation of the Tyrian origins of the cult of Heracles as nothing more than the perverse prejudices of a writer who had spent too much time with and studying barbarians–in essence, any person who was not a Greek. Yet the fact that these writers felt that they had to address these issues so forcefully hints at grave disquiet over the ambiguous origins of Greater Greece’s favourite hero. For instance, see the extraordinary attack on Herodotus by the later Greek writer Plutarch (De Herodoti malignitate 13–14), who accused him of ‘philobarbarism’–of being a lover of barbarians and a self-hating Greek.

32 Malkin 2005, 246–7.

33 KAI 47. Amadasi Guzzo 2005b, 47–8.

34 Malkin 2005, 245.

35 Amadasi Guzzo 2005b, 50.

36 Pausanias 10.17.2.

37 Bonnet 2005, 23–5; Bernardini 2005, 130–33.

38 CIS i.256; Bonnet 2005, 25.

39 Grottanelli 1973.

40 Amadasi Guzzo 2005b, 49–50, for arguments which relate the epithet not to Tyre but rather to the outcrop on which the temple at Antas was built. However, this still does not detract from the likelihood that it was a reference to the Tyrian heritage of the god.

41 Bonnet 1986, 210–12.

42 Lipiński 1989, 67–70. Bernardini 2005, 125–6, for arguments that this Carthage was in fact either Tharros or another Punic Sardinian city, Neapolis. However, the case for the North African metropolis is still the most convincing.

43 Bonnet 1988, 399–415.

44 Bonnet 1986, 214–15.

45 M. Miles 1998/9, 1–2, 21–5.

46 Bonnet 1988, 272; Krings 1998, 200.

47 Moscati 1986, 101–5; Galinsky 1969, 70–73.

48 On the association of Melqart and Astarte, see Giangiulio 1983. Long after it had become the Roman cult of Venus Erycina, the cult would maintain much of its Punic character through the continuation of the practice of sacred prostitution and sacrificial rites on an open-air altar in a sacred enclosure (Aelian On Animals 10.50; Galinsky 1969, 70–73). Indeed, the site itself had a special connection with another mountain-top sanctuary to Astarte, at Sicca, a Carthaginian-held town in Numidia, where the same religious rites and sacred prostitution took place (Valerius Maximus 2.6.15; Solinus 27.8). It was said that each year the goddess left her sanctuary and travelled to Sicca with the doves that were sacred to her, before returning to Eryx after an interval of nine days (Aelian On Animals 4.2; Schilling 1954, 234–9). The same conflation between Heracles and Melqart is found in the work of the sixth-century-BC Greek geographer Hecataeus of Miletus, who wrote that, on his return with the herd of Geryon, Heracles killed Solous, the eponymous king of the Sicilian Punic city of Solus, and received the assistance of a maiden named Motya in getting his stolen cattle back (Hecataeus of Miletus Frs. 71–2, FGH, I: 18–19; Malkin 1994, 210–11). In the fifth and fourth centuries BC Solus, which was said by the Greek historian Thucydides (6.2–6) to be a Phoenician foundation, minted a considerable number of coins on which Heracles featured (Bonnet 1988, 272–3).

49 Herodotus 4.8. A number of later Greek writers reported that the tomb of Geryon could be seen at Gades, while others maintained that two trees which dripped blood grew out of the tomb (Philostratus Apollon. 5.4). Strabo (3.5.10), citing the second-century-BC Greek polymath Poseidonius, also mentions a tree at Gades which ‘if a root is cut, a red liquid oozes forth’ (Pausanias 1.35.7). Another stop-off, Abdera, on the eastern coast of Andalusia, was also not Greek but a Phoenician settlement (Apollodorus 2.5.10.)

50 For the merging of Melqart and Heracles in the West, and the earlier syncretism between the hero and the Near Eastern god/heroes Gilgamesh and Sandon, see Fabre 1981, 274–6. There is also some suggestion that the great sanctuary to Venus Frutis at the Latin town of Lavinium may have been connected to the sanctuary at Eryx (Solinus 2.14; Strabo 5.3.5). In two of the manuscripts in which Solinus’ work is recorded the designation is not ‘Frutis’ but ‘Ericis’, ‘of Eryx’. Some have simply put this down to a copying error, but the fact is that, whereas Frutis is an unknown, Aphrodite/Astarte of Eryx is well attested (Galinsky 1969, 115–18). A further example of the cultural syncretism that defined archaic Sicily can be found in the final episode of the Dorieus tale. Euryleon, the sole survivor of the ill-fated expedition, had taken refuge at the nearby town of Heracleia Minoa. One might assume, especially with the Heraclean undertones of the tale, that the town’s name was derived from the Greek hero, whereas in fact the Punic name for Minoa was Makara, which simply meant ‘City of Melqart’ (Malkin 1994, 215–16; 2005, 252–3).

51 Hellanicus of Lesbos Fr. 111, FGH, I: 134; Hecataeus of Miletus Frs. 76–7, FGH, I: 19; Pearson 1975, 188.

52 It is certainly the case that the vast majority of the later recountings of the activities of Heracles in Rome emphasize the positive and friendly nature of his relationship with the indigenous locals (Fabre 1981, 287). The one dissenting voice is that of Plutarch, who recounts that in fact Heracles had killed Faunus.

53 Dionysius 1.40.1. There has been considerable debate over the provenance of the Cacus myth. It is generally agreed that it owes much to Greek mythology, particularly the story of Hermes’ theft of the cattle of Apollo recounted in the Fourth Homeric Hymn and dramatized in the fifth century BC by the Athenian playwright Sophocles in Ichneutae. It has also been linked to the story of the theft by Sisyphus of the horses of Diomedes, when Heracles was driving them back to Eurystheus, the king of Mycenae, after the successful completion of his eighth labour (Apollodorus 2.5.8). Dana Sutton (1977) has argued that its most likely source of entry into the Roman mythological canon was through satyr plays written in the early first century BC. However, it is well known that Dionysius heavily used western-Greek Hellenistic-era writers. Taking into account the Greek provenance of the story, one of these authors was surely a more likely source.

54 Bradley 2005, 138–40.

55 Most recently, ibid., 141–143. For the original hypothesis of the Greek roots of Italian, Etruscan and Latin Hercules/Hercle, see Bayet 1926.

56 In other parts of central Italy Heracles was also assimilated with various deities (Bradley 2005, 132).

57 The earliest representation of Cacus is on an Etruscan mirror dated to the fourth century BC.

58 Ritter 1995, 18–23; Bonnet 1988, 296–302.

59 Clear links between the Sant’ Omobono temple and Etruria exist through an ivory plaque inscribed with the Etruscan name Araz Silqietanas Spurianas, which was found among the archaeological deposits from the temple (Forsythe 2005, 90). For an overview of the archaeological evidence for temples and sanctuaries in archaic Rome see Smith 1996, 158–65.

60 Forsythe 2005, 90–91.

61 Jourdain-Annequin 1989, 635–6. The identification of the goddess figure has been controversial, with scholars putting forward a number of different deities (on Juno/Hera, see Coarelli 1988, 301–28; on Athena/Minerva, see Colonna 1987). Some have argued that these probable representations of Heracles and Athena, which would have sat on the roof of the temple, were the work of one of the Roman kings who, following the lead of autocratic rulers in mainland Greece, wanted to represent his rule as being divinely sanctioned. They point to a statue in Athens showing the Athenian autocrat Pisistratus as Heracles being introduced to Olympus by Athena, the patron deity of his city, thereby suggesting that he enjoyed divine favour. This might explain the existence of a similar set of statues at the southern Etruscan town of Veii. The later Roman writers Martial (14.178) and Pliny (NH 35.157) both record that Vulca, a sculptor from Veii, was commissioned to produce a sculpture of Hercules by the last Roman king, Tarquinius Superbus (Cornell 1995, 148; Bradley 2005, 130; Ritter 1995, 21 for the connection with Veii). Useful parallels exist between these stories and the sanctuary at Pyrgi, where, within the temple complex where the famous tablets were discovered, archaeologists have pinpointed a specific subterranean space which may have housed the underground tomb of Melqart, before he was brought back to life in the ceremony of the egersis. An inscription was found there dedicated to Uni and Tenia, the chief Etruscan deities. As in the context of this temple Uni was associated with Astarte, who was the consort of Melqart, it seems likely that the same kind of religious syncretism was at play here between Melqart and Tenia (Casquero 2002, 89–90).

62 Holloway 1994, 166–7.

63 Van Berchem 1967, 1959–60. There are other similarities, such as the absolute exclusivity of the god in his temple, and the long robes and the crowns of laurels worn on the uncovered heads of the priests (although parallels for these traditions can also be found in the Greek world). It has also been suggested that the Potitii, one of the aristocratic families who were to oversee the cult, were in fact a caste of priests in the Near Eastern tradition (Van Berchem 1967, 311–15). Bonnet (1988, 278–304) is sceptical of the connections between Melqart and Rome. However, her qualifications, although useful, do not discount the appropriation of some of the rites and iconography associated with the god in the archaic city.

64 Torelli 1989, 49–51.

65 Casquero 2002, 86–91.

66 Février 1965.

67 Casquero 2002, 69.

68 At Gravisca, the port of the important Etruscan city of Tarquinii, inscriptions found at a sixth-century-BC temple dedicated to the Greek goddesses Aphrodite, Hera and Demeter show a strong eastern-Greek element (particularly from Samos, Miletus and Ephesus) among its worshippers (Torelli 1989, 48–9; Smith 1996, 146–7). The lack of Phoenician pottery in archaic Roman contexts might argue against the hypothesis of a large Phoenician mercantile presence in Rome (Casquero 2002, 101–2). However, the discovery of large quantities of eighth-century-BC Greek pottery in a deposit underneath the shrine at Sant’ Omobono proves very little, as the Phoenicians were often involved in the transportation of Greek goods (Cornell 1995, 68–9).

69 This model for the introduction of Melqart and Astarte into Italy is preferable to the Bonnet thesis (1986, 29) that sees it as the work of the Carthaginians who brought the cult to Etruria. See Smith 1996, 159–62, for an overview of the general issues and how they relate to the Sant’ Omobono temple.

CHAPTER 4: THE ECONOMY OF WAR: CARTHAGE AND SYRACUSE

1 For Ibiza, see Gómez Bellard 1990. For Sardinia, Van Dommelen 1998, 125–9. For the idea that Carthage increasingly looked overseas for food and land for its growing population see Ameling 1993, 250 ff.

2 Van Dommelen 1998, 125–9; 2002, 130–3.

3 Mastino, Spanu & Zucca 2005, 103–4; Bechtold 2008, 51–6, 76.

4 Pseudo-Aristotle Mirab. Ausc. 100. It is also noteworthy that ears of grain were a common motif on Punic coins minted in Sardinia.

5 Barnett & Mendleson (eds.) 1987, 41–6, for grave goods in Tharros.

6 Barreca 1987, 24–6.

7 Van Dommelen 1998, 127.

8 Bernardini 1993, 173–7.

9 Garbini 1983, 158–60.

10 Van Dommelen 1998, 127–8, must be right in disputing Barreca’s claim (1986, 88–9) of a Carthaginian border-defence system across the island, but he in turn does not take enough account of the fortified nature of many of these sites.

11 Gharbi 2004.

12 Bonzani 1992, 215–16.

13 Herodotus 7.165; Brizzi 1995, 308.

14 Polyaenus 1.27.2.

15 Herodotus 7.167.

16 Diodorus, 11.24.4.

17 Ibid. 11.26.1–3.

18 Ibid. 11.25.1–5.

19 Asheri 1988, 776–8.

20 Aristotle Pol. 2.8.1–2. Although the actual date of the introduction of the suffeture is vague, Krahmalkov (1976, 153–7) makes the important observation that there is no reference to the suffeture (for an explanation of which see p. 130) in Punic epigraphy before the fifth century BC. Although the suffeture is also recorded in Tyre in the fifth century (Sznycer 1978, 571), there is no evidence that the office hailed from the Levant.

21 Aristotle Pol. 2.8.5–6, 2.8.8–9.

22 At Tharros an inscription dated to the third century BC mentions suffetes. However, the inclusion of the ancestral antecedents of the office-holders suggests that the suffeture had existed as a political office in Tharros before this period (Barreca 1987, 26). In addition, suffetes still existed in the first century BC in a number of the old Carthaginian/Phoenician colonies such as Eryx, Bithia, Sulcis, Malta, Gades and perhaps Caralis. Popular Assemblies are recorded at Leptis Magna, Malta, Bithia and Olbia. At a more junior level, many of these colonies also appear to have had officials (who are also attested to in Carthage) whose duties involved administrative matters including the collection of taxes. An inscription (CIS i.154.) found in Tharros and dated to the third century BC was originally thought to refer to a Carthaginian official, but it is now thought that he was in fact a local market official.

23 Aristotle Pol. 2.8.4, 2.8.8.

24 Herodotus 7.167.

25 It is thought that the temple of Nike, the Greek goddess of victory, at Himera may be one of the two temples. A third clause, that Carthage had to agree to cease the practice of human sacrifice, is thought to be fraudulent.

26 Carthage had resisted other tempting opportunities to reinvolve itself in Sicilian affairs. It had even turned down a call for assistance from the Elymian city of Segesta–locked, as usual, in conflict with its Greek neighbour –and from Carthage’s erstwhile ally Selinus (Diodorus 12.82.7). The Carthaginians were perhaps mindful that the Athenians, when matters had been going well for them, had thought more than once about making Carthage their next victim (Aristophanes Knights 1302–4; Plutarch Per. 20.4).

27 Lancel 1995, 140–41.

28 Ibid., 134–42.

29 Hall 1989.

30 Herodotus 7.163–4.

31 Krings 1998, 276–84.

32 However, there is good evidence for previous friendly relations between Greek and Phoenician people on Cyprus (Snodgrass 1988, 19–20). For the Phoenician kings of Kition see Yon 1992.

33 Pindar, Pythi. Ode 1.71–5. For the Deinomenid reinvention of Himera see Krings 1998, 261–5.

34 Herodotus 7.166; Diodorus 11.1.5, 11.20.1.

35 Aristotle Pol. 7.2.10; Plato Laws 1.637D–E.

36 Aristotle Poet. 1459a 24–8: Krings 1998, 284–8.

37 Isaac 2004, 283–98.

38 Aristotle Pol. 2.8.1.

39 Ibid. However, later in the Politics (5.6.2) Aristotle does make reference to the failed coup of Hanno that marked the end of Magonid political dominance in Carthage.

40 Plato Laws 2.674B–C. However, there is plentiful evidence for Carthaginians making, trading and consuming wine (Lancel 1995, 274–6).

41 Morel 1980 & 1983.

42 Athenaeus 1.27e–1.28a (Fr. 63, PCG).

43 Bechtold 2007, 65–7.

44 At the city of Thebes someone with the Carthaginian name Nobas (whose real name was probably Annobas) is attested as being granted the status of proxenos, an honorary citizenship bestowed on foreigners for the good service that they had rendered. In Athens around 330 BC two resident Carthaginians are mentioned, and the inventories from the temples of Apollo and Artemis on the island of Delos mention gifts from Punic people (Manganaro 2000, 258).

45 On Antiochus see Luraghi 2002, and on Philistus see Bearzot 2002.

46 Diodorus 13.43.4–5.

47 The successors of Gelon had lacked both his charisma and his ruthlessness, and had been overthrown by the Syracusans, who had grown tired of their excesses. The democratic government that replaced them was no more successful in achieving consensus, for social cohesion had been greatly undermined by the violence and mass deportations that had been such keystones of Gelon’s political strategy (Lomas 2006, 102).

48 Whittaker 1978, 66–7.

49 Large quantities of goods from both Italy and Greece were imported into Carthage throughout this period (Bechtold 2007, 54–8, 65–7). For the political independence of the Punic cities in Sicily during this period see Bondì 1999, 39–42.

50 Di Stefano et al. 1998, 88.

51 Diodorus 13.81.5.

52 Whittaker 1978, 81–2.

53 Diodorus 13.43.5.

54 Ibid. 13.43.6–7.

55 Ibid. 13.44.1–6.

56 This was clearly a very sizeable force. However, the figures for its size–either 200,000 foot and 4,000 horse or over 100,000 men–are obviously grossly exaggerated (Diodorus 13.54.5).

57 Ibid. 13.54.6–13.59.3.

58 Ibid. 13.59.4–13.62.6.

59 Jenkins 1971, 29–33. On the mercenaries in Carthage’s Sicilian armies see Brizzi 1995, 308–11; Ameling 1993, 212–15.

60 Ameling 1993, 265–6; Visonà 1998, 4.

61 Mildenberg 1989, 7–8; Visonà 1998, 5.

62 On men and supplies, see Fariselli 1999, 59–61; on coinage, Jenkins 1974, 23–6. Wherever the mint was actually physically located, Carthage was certainly the issuing authority (Manfredi 1999, 70).

63 Diodorus 13.63.4–5.

64 Ibid. 13.80.1.

65 Meritt 1940.

66 Diodorus 13.80.1–5.

67 Ibid. 13.80.5–7.

68 Ibid. 13.85.1–13.86.3. Himilcar was also said to have sacrificed a large number of cattle to a sea god by drowning.

69 Ibid. 13.86.4–13.89.4.

70 Ibid. 13.86.90.1–5.

71 Schmitz 1994, 11–13.

72 Diodorus 14.7.1.

73 Ibid. 13.91.1–13.96.4.

74 Ibid. 14.41.1–14.43.4.

75 Ibid. 14.45.2–14.46.5.

76 Ibid. 14.47.5–7.

77 Ibid. 14.52.1–2.

78 Ibid. 14.53.1–5.

79 Ibid. 14.48.1–14.53.4.

80 Ibid. 14.54.2–4.

81 Ibid. 14.54.5–14.63.4.

82 Ibid. 14.71.1–4, 14.63.1–2, 14.70.4–6.

83 Ibid. 14.71.3–4.

84 Ibid. 14.71.1.

85 Ibid. 14.75.2–3. Diodorus/Timaeus also suggested that it was not only greed that lay behind Dionysius’ decision, but also the fear that his own citizens might try to oust him if the Carthaginian menace were removed.

86 Ibid. 14.72.1–14.75.3.

87 Ibid. 14.76.3–4; Justin 19.3.1–11. The account of Justin (19.3.12) has Himilco locking himself in his house and committing suicide.

88 Justin 21.4.1.

89 Aristotle Pol. 2.11.3; Bondì 1995a, 296–7.

90 The suffetes may have been in existence for some time (Sznycer 1978, 567–70). Prefect of bureau of public works = KAI 62.4 k36. Tax collectors = CIS i.5547.⅘. Administrators = KAI 119.2/3; Aristotle Pol. 2.11.3–6; Bondì 1995a, 296.

91 Aristotle Pol. 2.11.3–70; Huss 1985, 460–61; Bondì 1995a, 296.

92 Diodorus 14.95.1–14.96.4.

93 Ibid. 15.15.1–2.

94 Ibid. 15.15.3–15.16.3.

95 Ibid. 15.17.5. There were additional clauses such as Selinus and Acragas returning to Carthage’s sphere of influence, and Dionysius agreeing to pay Carthage 1,000 talents in reparations.

96 Ibid. 15.24.1–3. The city was in such a state of panic that men were seen to rush out of their houses in full armour and attack their fellow citizens because they imagined that Carthage had come under attack.

97 Ibid. 15.74.2–3.

98 Justin 21.4.1–7.

99 Ibid. 21.4.8ff.

100 Whittaker 1978, 62; Diodorus 13.81.1; Polybius 1.15.10, 1.17.1, 3.24.8, 3.24.12.

101 Panormus, Solus, Thermae Himerae and Eryx were all producing their own coinage in the second half of the fourth century (Jenkins 1971, 53–75).

102 Diodorus 14.16.4; Strabo 6.2.15; Schimtz 1994, 11. Halaisa may have been set up as a base for the recent expeditionary force. On Thermae Himerae, see Diodorus 13.79.8. The population of the city was made up not just of Punic settlers, but also of Greeks from Sicily and southern Italy (ibid. 19.2.2).

103 For a study of Punic Lilybaeum see Di Stefano 1993.

104 Tusa 1984, 36–7, 49–55, 69–71.

105 Ibid., 35.

106 Caruso 2003; Tusa 1984, 24–35; Moscati 1986, 101–5.

107 Tusa 1984, 21–3; Purpura 1981.

108 Jenkins 1977, 8–33.

109 Diodorus 13.59.3; Moscati 1986, 123–9; Tusa 1984, 36–7.

110 Moscati 1986, 127.

111 Ibid., 47.

112 Ibid., 127. Yet, despite the obvious Punic influences, the religious usage of the sanctuary of Malaphorus in the fourth century BC shows clear signs of a reaffirmation of an important indigenous cult which appears to have been held in high esteem by both Greek and Punic populations.

113 Acquaro 1988, 38–9.

114 Moscati 1986, 130–55; Acquaro 1988, 41–3.

115 Morris et al. 2001–2004.

116 Lysias Olympiacus 33.3; Plutarch Tim. 1.1–2.

117 Cornelius Nepos Tim. 3.1.

118 Archaeologists have come to this conclusion as a result of the large number of military coins from the Carthage mint and of Carthaginian transport amphorae found there. For a study of Monte Adranone see Fiorentini 1995.

119 The finds included Carthaginian bronze coins, gaming dice, and large quantities of both wine amphorae and imported Greek pottery (Morris et al. 2001–2002).

120 Anello 1986, 170–72.

121 Fariselli 1999, 62–5. Some have even wished to see this as evidence of the establishment of a kind of ‘economic protectorate’ whereby mercenary troops were settled on territory under Carthaginian suzerainty and then required to protect it. However, the discernible difference in the material culture of these new sites–where much larger numbers of amphorae from North Africa are found–compared with the old Punic cities of western Sicily, where the vast majority of the amphorae are of local manufacture, appears to show that these new settlements were not part of the thriving local economy (Bechtold 2007, 54–8).

122 Whittaker 1978, 60, 88–90.

123 Bechtold 2007, 65–7; 2008, 56–74, 76.

124 Bechtold 2007, 54–8.

125 Bechtold 2008, 57–8.

126 Docter et al. 2006, 54.

127 Chelbi 1992, 18–20.

128 Bechtold 2008, 49–50.

129 Large numbers of Sardinian ‘sack’- and ‘torpedo’-shaped amphorae used for the transportation of foodstuffs are found in Punic Sicily during the fifth and fourth centuries BC (Mastino, Spanu & Zucca 2005, 103–4). These amphorae key in with the assertions of Diodorus that the Carthaginian army was fed on Sardinian corn (Diodorus 14.77.6; Fariselli 1999, 59–63).

130 Crawford 1985, 104.

131 Diodorus 16.65.1–9.

132 Ibid. 16.66.5–6, 16.67.1–16.68.8.

133 Ibid. 16.69.3–6, 16.70.4–6, 16.72.2–16.73.3.

134 Ibid. 16.73.3, 16.77.4, 20.10.6.

135 Ibid. 16.79.5–16.81.4; Plutarch Tim. 27.2–28.6.

136 Diodorus 16.82.3.

137 In cities, such as Messana, substantial numbers of Campanian and southern-Italian mercenaries had been settled there by Dionysius (Lomas 2006, 112–14).

138 Mildenberg 1989, 6–12.

139 Visonà 1998, 6–7.

CHAPTER 5: IN THE SHADOW OF ALEXANDER THE GREAT: CARTHAGE AND AGATHOCLES

1 Arrian Anabasis 2.16.7–2.24.5; Plutarch Alex. 24.3–4; Quintus Curtius Rufus 4.2.2–4.4.19.

2 Arrian Anabasis 2.24.6.

3 Quintus Curtius Rufus 4.3.19; Arrian Anabasis 2.24.5. This visit probably fitted in with the celebration of the egersis in February/March. The Tyrians had also sent their women and children to Carthage for safety once the siege had started (Diodorus 17.41.1, 17.46.4; Quintus Curtius Rufus 4.3.20).

4 Justin 21.6.

5 Isaac 2004, 283–303.

6 Diodorus 13.108.3–5.

7 Diodorus 17.2. Arrian (Anabasis 2.16.4–7) also states that it was ‘not the Argive Heracles, son of Alcmena’ but ‘Tyrian Heracles’.

8 Diodorus 11.1.4.

9 Ibid. 11.24.1.

10 Ibid. 11.23.2, 11.26.5.

11 Ibid. 20.13.1–3. Hence the Carthaginian general Hannibal who led the 410 expedition is labelled as ‘by nature . . . a hater of all Greeks’ (ibid. 13.43.6).

12 Plutarch Tim. 18.7.

13 Diodorus 13.57, 14.48–53, 14.63.1–3, 14.70.4, 14.73.5, 14.74.4; Athenaeus 12.541A–B.

14 For Greek mercenaries fighting on the Carthaginian side see Diodorus 20.38.6, 20.39.5. For Greeks living in Carthage see ibid. 14.77.4–5. During the Sicilian wars, Carthage had periodically supported Sicilian Greek dissidents who were seeking to bring about regime change in Syracuse (Plutarch Tim. 2.1–2; Diodorus 16.67.1–3). This support had also meant that the city had become a place of refuge for Sicilian Greeks who had been forced out of their own cities. Indeed, Polybius (7.2.3–4) mentions two brothers, Epicydes and Hippocrates, officers in the Carthaginian army, who had been brought up in the North African metropolis after their grandfather had been forced to flee Syracuse after being accused of assassinating one of the sons of Agathocles. For Greeks in Carthage during the third century BC see Galvagno 2006.

15 Diodorus 5.3.1–3; Pearson 1975, 186–7.

16 Diodorus 14.77.4–5.

17 See for instance a dedication in Carthage to ‘Lady Ammas [Demeter], the Lady Mistress of the Netherworld’ (KAI 83): Krahmalkov 2000, 177; Moscati 1986, 73.

18 Jenkins & Lewis 1963, Group III.

19 Moscati 1986, 47–8.

20 Van Dommelen 1988, 151–6.

21 Positioned underneath the god was often a lotus flower, the traditional Phoenician symbol of life and renaissance (Bonnet 1986, 182–6).

22 For instance a ritual razor has been discovered at Utica which shows Heracles fighting against the giant bull. This motif is heavily influenced by the coinage produced by the Greek Sicilian cities of Selinus and Solus (ibid., 195). Several perfume bottles have also been discovered showing Heracles, and in one case Heracles with Achilles.

23 Lancel 1995, 207.

24 Athenaeus 392d.

25 Bonnet 1986, 220–22.

26 Green 1990, 187.

27 Cf. Diodorus 19.2.1–19.9.7 for the early career and rise to autocratic power of Agathocles.

28 Cf. ibid. 17.23.2–3; Zambon 2006 for the association between Agathocles and Alexander.

29 Zambon 2006, 82–3.

30 Plautus Mostellaria 775–7.

31 Hoyos 1994, 255–6.

32 Isocrates Nicocles 24.

33 Until the third century BC, generals were selected from the political elite and had usually held the suffeture (Drews 1979, 55). Popular Assembly = Aristotle Pol. 2.8.9; Diodorus 25.8.

34 Diodorus 20.10.2–4.

35 Pearson 1987, 41.

36 Justin 22.2.

37 Diodorus 19.71.6–7.

38 Ibid. 19.72.1–2.

39 Justin 22.3; Diodorus 19.72.2.

40 Diodorus 19.106.1–4.

41 Ibid. 19.106.5–19.110.5.

42 Ibid. 19.106.5, 20.3.1–3.

43 Ibid. 20.3.3.

44 Ibid. 20.4.1–8.

45 Ibid. 20.5.1–20.7.5.

46 Ibid.

47 Justin 22.5.

48 Diodorus 20.8.1–7, 20.9.2–5.

49 Ibid. 20.10.1–2.

50 Ibid. 20.10.5–20.13.2.

51 Ibid. 20.14.1–7; Lactantius Div. Inst. 1.21.

52 CIS i.3914.

53 Diodorus 20.31.1–2.

54 Ibid. 20.29.2–20.30.2, 20.33.1–2.

55 Zambon 2006, 82–3.

56 Diodorus 20.33.2–8.

57 Ibid. 20.33.2–20.34.7.

58 Ibid. 20.40.1–20.42.5.

59 Ibid. 20.44.1–6.

60 Ibid. 20.54.1–20.55.5.

61 Ibid. 20.59.1–20.61.4.

62 Ibid. 20.64.1–20.69.3.

63 Justin 22.8.

64 Diodorus 20.69.3–5.

65 Mildenberg 1989, 10–12; Visonà 1998, 7.

66 Visonà 1992, 15; 1998, 9–11.

67 Jenkins 1978, 5–19. For a period these coins had been produced simultaneously at two different mints, before the mhsbm issues took over completely.

68 This change has been recognized as significant by a number of scholars. Manfredi (1999, 72) prefers to see it as ‘the outcome of the progressive normalization of Punic administration in Sicily which no longer needed any special legitimation’.

69 Jenkins & Lewis 1963, Groups IV to VII. Mildenberg 1989, 10, for these coins being produced from the end of the fourth century.

70 See Zambon 2006, 80–82, for the changes in the coinage of Agathocles, which reflect his new royal status; Diodorus 20.54.1.

71 Diodorus 21.16.4 attributes the disease to poison that was applied through a quill which Agathocles used to clean his teeth.

72 Ibid. 21.16.5. This was said to have been a divine punishment for seizing sacred offerings to the fire god Hephaestus some years previously (Ibid. 20. 101.1–3).

73 Plutarch Pyrrh. 14.5.

CHAPTER 6: CARTHAGE AND ROME

1 Eckstein 2006, 131–8.

2 Ibid., 138–47.

3 Harris 1979.

4 Eckstein 2006, 177. More generally, ibid., 118–80.

5 Dench 2003, 307; Lomas 2004, 207–13.

6 Eckstein 2006, 245–57.

7 Cornell 1995, 293–326, 345–68; Harris 1979, 58–67; Crawford 1993, 31–42; Lomas 2004, 201–6.

8 Livy 7.38.2.

9 Polybius 3.24; Livy 7.27.2; Diodorus 16.69.1.

10 Palmer 1997, 15–45.

11 Varro Lat. 5.145–59.

12 Palmer 1997, 73–9.

13 Ibid., 118–19.

14 Varro Lat. 5.146–7.

15 Palmer 1997, 115.

16 Di Mario 2005.

17 Bechtold 2007.

18 Diodorus 15.24.1.

19 For the strong cultural links between Sicily and Latium see Galinsky 1969, 63–140.

20 Diodorus 15.24.1.

21 Plutarch Pyrrh. 13.2–6.

22 Franke 1989, 456–61; Plutarch Pyrrh. 2.1–13.1.

23 Plutarch Pyrrh. 15.1–17.5.

24 Justin 18.2.1–3; Valerius Maximus 3.7.10.

25 Plutarch Pyrrh. 18.1–21.10.

26 Ibid. 22.1–6.

27 Polybius 3.25.1–5.

28 Plutarch Pyrrh. 22.4–6.

29 Ibid. 22.1–23.6.

30 Diodorus 22.7.5. Hoyos (1998, 14) argues that there were no Roman participants in this raid. However, the hypothesis put forward by Huss (1985, 212) that Romans were part of the expedition is more convincing, as it appears unlikely that the Romans would have been happy to let such an operation take place on the Italian mainland without their involvement.

31 Plutarch Pyrrh. 24.1.

32 Ibid. 25.1–26.1.

33 Zonaras 8.6; Plutarch Pyrrh. 34.2–4.

34 Diodorus 22.3; Dionysius 20.4–5.

35 Livy Epitome 14; Zonaras 8.8; Lazenby 1996, 34–5; Hoyos 1998, 15–16. One much later Christian writer, Orosius (4.3.1–2), actually described a sea battle between the Carthaginian and Roman fleets that is almost certainly fictitious, although his claim that the Romans sent an embassy to Carthage to complain may be true.

36 Harris 1979, 183–4.

37 Lancel 1995, 365. See Hoyos 1998, 20–21, for a critique of a possible Campanian conspiracy.

38 Bechtold 2007.

39 Livy Epitome 14; 21.10.8, Dio Fr. 43.1; Hoyos 1998, 15–16; Lazenby 1996, 38–9.

40 Hellanicus of Lesbos Frs. 31, 83, FGH, I: 115, 129 (Dionysius 1.72.13). For scepticism in regard to whether Hellanicus was the source of these claims see Gruen 1992, 17–18. However, see Solmsen’s (1986) convincing reiteration of Hellanicus’ authorship, which is backed up by Malkin (1998, 199–202). In fact the idea that some non-Greek peoples owed their existence to Greek heroes was not a new one. The claim that the Etruscan and Latin peoples had been ruled over by the sons of Odysseus had been circulating in Greek literary circles since at least the mid sixth century BC, and perhaps earlier. The Etruscans were themselves quite receptive to the idea that their origins were linked to the legendary Homeric wanderer (Malkin 1998 & 2002). These Greek-authored ethnographical studies also acted as powerful exclusionary devices, because, while underlining the ‘Greekness’ of some peoples, they also highlighted the alien nature of others. These ideas would soon have a significant impact in Italy, where they were enthusiastically adopted and adapted by non-Greek ethnic groups in order to define their superiority over their equally non-Greek neighbours (Dench 2003, 300).

41 Cornell 1995, 63–8. The story of Aeneas, although enormously embellished later, had its roots in Greek Homeric epic, and the first references to the Trojan prince travelling to the West are found in a Greek author, the sixth-century-BC Sicilian Greek Stesichorus (Gruen 1992, 13–14). The story of Aeneas in the West was also known in Etruria by the sixth century BC, as seen on decoration on imported Greek pottery and on locally made ware (Galinsky 1969, 105). However, Gruen (1992, 21–6) has convincingly argued that it was Latium that remained the centre of interest in Aeneas.

42 Gruen 1990, 33; 1992, 31.

43 Gruen 1992, 15–16. The Sicilian Greek writer Callias (Fr. 5A (Dionysius 1.72.5)) argued that Rome had been founded by the twins Romulus and Remus and an unnamed third brother, the offspring of Latinus (king of the Latin people) and Roma (a Trojan woman who had come to Italy with Aeneas, although she was not related to him). Alcimus, another Syracusan historian, produced a slightly different version of this story, which named Romus, son of Romulus and grandson of Aeneas, as the founder of the city (Vattoune 2002, 220). Indeed, such was Rome’s increasing profile that, by the fourth century, a number of Greek writers, from both the Aristotelian and Platonic schools, argued that the city was a purely Hellenic foundation (Dionysius 1.72.3–5; Plutarch Cam. 22.2). Vattuone (2002, 220) sees the insistence by many fourth- and third-century Syracusan writers that Rome was a Latin and/or Trojan rather than a Greek foundation as a sign that Rome, because of its alliance with the Carthaginians, was seen as an enemy of the western Greeks. However, the fact is that the Greek view of the Trojans was already more nuanced than that, and Timaeus, who clearly viewed Rome in a positive light, also insisted on Rome being a Trojan foundation.

44 The real power of these Greek ethnographical theories lay not only in the ideas themselves, but also in the authoritative rhetoric of scientific investigation in which they were couched. Bickerman 1952a; Momigliano 1975, 14–15; Cornell 1995, 60–63.

45 Strabo 5.3.5.

46 Ovid Fasti 2.237.

47 Certainly it has been argued that the Greek Arcadian king Evander, a key figure in the story, was introduced into the Roman mythological past only in that period (Bayet 1926; Cornell 1995, 68–9).

48 Fabre 1981, 287.

49 Franke 1989, 463–6.

50 Pausanias 1.12.1; Gruen 1990, 12.

51 Zonaras 8.9; Gruen 1990, 12–13; Galinsky 1969, 173.

52 Momigliano 1977, 53–8; Walbank 2002, 172–7. For the major influence that Timaeus’ views had on Roman perceptions of Carthage see Feeney 2007, 52–7.

53 Dionysius 1.74.1. For Timaeus and his use of synchronisms see Feeney 2007, 43–52.

54 Timaeus explained that the Festival of the October Horse at Rome, during which a horse was sacrificed, was related to the Greek capture of Troy (Polybius 12.4b.1–12.4c.1). He also stated that the Penates, sacred objects supposedly taken by Aeneas from Troy, were kept in the Latin town of Lavinium (Dionysius 1.67.3–4). For evidence of Timaeus’ research techniques see Festus Rufus Avienus 190 L. However, Timaeus’ claim to accuracy and emphasis on visiting places and interviewing its inhabitants were met with great scepticism and derision by Polybius (12.4d.1–2).

55 Vattuone 2002, 221–2. Pearson 1987, 255–9, for the paucity of surviving Timaean references to Pyrrhus.

56 Diodorus 4.21.6–7, 4.22.1–2; Pearson 1975, 188–92.

57 Ritter 1995, 27–9. The emblems also had personal connections for the victorious Roman generals, one of whom was a member of the Fabii. Both Gaius Fabius and the other consul, Quintus Ogulnius, could boast family associations with the image of Romulus and Remus too. The Fabii were supposedly descended from the group of shepherds who had been supporters of Remus (Ovid Fasti 2.361, 2.375). For Ogulnius, the wolf with the twins was an aide-memoire of one of his finest moments, when, nearly thirty years previously, he had successfully brought to trial several detested loansharks. A proportion of the fines had then been used to commission a group of statues, representing Romulus and Remus as infants being suckled by the she-wolf (Livy 10.23).

58 Polybius 1.10.1–2; Zonaras 8.6, 8.8; Diodorus 22.13.5–7; Lazenby 1996, 35–7.

59 Polybius 1.10.7–9.

60 Eckstein 1987, 76–7.

61 Polybius 1.10.3–1.11.4; Lazenby 1996, 37–41.

62 Polybius 1.11.4–5; Diodorus 23.1.3–4.; Zonaras 8.8–9; Lazenby 1996, 43–6.

63 Diodorus 23.1.2; Polybius 1.11.7.

64 Diodorus 23.1.4.

65 Zonaras 8.9; Frontinus Strat. 1.4.11; Lazenby 1996, 49.

66 Polybius 1.11.9, 1.20.15.

67 Lazenby 1996, 49–51.

68 Polybius 1.16; Diodorus 23.4; Lazenby 1996, 52–3.

69 Zonaras 8.8.2–3.

70 On Roman acquisitiveness as a cause of the First Punic War, Polybius 1.11.12; Florus 1.18.

71 Hoyos 1998, 51–7.

72 Harris 1979, 9–53. However, Rich (1993, 38–68) highlights the dangers of overplaying Roman bellicosity as the major motivation for Rome’s involvement in a significant number of wars during this period. Eckstein (2006, 181–243) questions how much more militarized, warlike and diplomatically aggressive Rome was compared with its rivals.

73 Eckstein 1987, 92.

74 Although the Roman historian Livy (Epitome 14; 21.10.8) alluded to such a treaty, as did the Vergilian scholar Servius (Aen. 4.628), Polybius (3.26) vehemently denied its existence. For arguments for there being no 306 treaty, see Lazenby 1996, 33; Eckstein 1987, 77–8. For arguments in favour of the Philinus treaty, see Huss 1985, 204–6; Lancel 1995, 362; Barceló 1988, 140–41; Serrati 2006, 120–29.

75 Lazenby 1996, 33.

76 Eckstein 1987, 93–101.

77 Hoyos 1998, 4–32.

78 Polybius 1.5.1, 39.8.4; Walbank 2002, 172–3.

CHAPTER 7: THE FIRST PUNIC WAR

1 Polybius 1.20.12.

2 Casson 1971, 100–122.

3 Morrison & Coates 1986, 259–60.

4 Goldsworthy 2000, 101–2.

5 Frost 1989, 127–35; Lancel 1995, 131–3.

6 Moscati 1986, 95–6.

7 Polybius 1.20.6–14.

8 Ibid. 1.17.4–1.19.15; Diodorus 23.7.1–23.9.1; Zonaras 8.10.

9 Diodorus 23.9.2.

10 Polybius 1.20.1–2.

11 Ibid. 1.21.2.

12 Ibid. 1.20.10–1.21.2; Lazenby 1996, 63–6.

13 Polybius 1.21.3–1.21.9.

14 Pliny NH 8.169; Lazenby 1996, 66–7.

15 Polybius 1.21.8–11.

16 Ibid. 1.23.3–10; Zonaras 8.11; Lazenby 1996, 70–72; Goldsworthy 2000, 106–9.

17 Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum 12.2.25.

18 Diodorus 23.10.1; Dio 11.18; Zonaras 8.11; Valerius Maximus 7.3.

19 Zonaras 8.12. In another version of this story he was stoned to death (Orosius 4.4.4). Polybius (1.24.5–7) merely states that Hannibal was punished for losing many ships and being blockaded in one of the harbours.

20 Polybius 1.24.3–4; Diodorus 23.9.4; Goldsworthy 2000, 82–4; Lazenby 1996, 74–6.

21 Polybius 1.25.4. Some sources suggested that the Carthaginian admiral, Hamilcar, had been tricked by the Romans, who had divided their ships (Zonaras 8.12), or concealed a number of their craft (Polyaenus 8.20). Lazenby 1996, 78–9.

22 Polybius 1.26.1–9. For a discussion of these numbers see Goldsworthy 2000, 110–11; Lazenby 1996, 81–4.

23 Frontinus Strat. 2.13.10, although Lazenby (1996, 96) has doubts about whether this incident really took place at Ecnomus.

24 Polybius 1.26.10–1.28.14; Goldsworthy 2000, 109–15; Lazenby 1996, 81–96.

25 Zonaras 8.12; Valerius Maximus 6.6.2.

26 Polybius 1.29.1–1.30.8; Zonaras 8.12; Goldsworthy 2000, 84–6; Lazenby 1996, 97–100.

27 Polybius 1.30.9–1.31.8; Diodorus 23.11–12; Zonaras 8.13; Livy Epitome 18; Orosius 4.9.1; Eutropius 2.21.4; Lazenby 1996, 100–102.

28 Polybius 1.36.2–4, contra other stories that told of his murder by the Carthaginians (Diodorus 23.16; Zonaras 8.13; Valerius Maximus 9.6; Silius Italicus Pun. 6.682; Appian 8.1.4); Lazenby 1996, 106.

29 Polybius 1.32.1–1.39.6; Diodorus 23.14.1–23.19; Zonaras 8.14; Appian 8.1.3; Orosius 4.9.3–8; Eutropius 2.21.4–2.22.3; Lazenby 1996, 102–12; Goldsworthy 2000, 88–92.

30 For the Carthaginians’ harsh pacification of the Numidians, see Orosius 4.9.9.

31 The Carthaginians had sent spies into the city, but they were supposedly uncovered by Metellus, who assembled all the citizens and asked them to take hold of all those whom they recognized (Zonaras 8.14). However, it should be said that Zonaras says that the same tactic was used by Mummius at the fall of Corinth in 146 BC.

32 Polybius 1.40.6–16.

33 Polybius 1.39.7–1.40.16; Diodorus 23.21; Zonaras 8.14; Eutropius 2.24; Orosius 4.9.15. The numbers of elephants cited vary from 10 (Polybius 1.40.15) to 142 (Pliny NH 8.16). Metellus was said to have offered freedom to any of the captured drivers who could control the elephants, and arranged their transport back to Italy on a series of enormous rafts (Diodorus 23.21). Zonaras (8.14), Pliny (NH 8.16) and Frontinus (Strat. 1.7.1) all give descriptions of the triumph–after which the elephants were killed. Lazenby 1996, 112–22; Goldsworthy 2000, 92–4.

34 Zonaras 8.14.

35 Polybius 1.41–47; Diodorus 24.1.

36 Polybius 1.49.1–1.54.8; Diodorus 24.3–4; Orosius 4.10.3; Eutropius 2.26.1; Livy Epitome 19; Suetonius Tib. 2.3; Aulus Gellius 10.6. Publius Claudius Pulcher would be described by the Roman poet Naevius as a man who ‘with pride and contempt ground down the legions’ (Naevius Fr. 42). Lazenby 1996, 132–41, Goldsworthy 2000, 119–22.

37 Crawford 1985, 106–7.

38 Visonà 1998, 11–12.

39 Jenkins & Lewis 1963, Groups VIII & IX; Baldus 1982; 1988, 171–6.

40 Baldus 1988, 178–82; Manfredi 1999, 72.

41 Jenkins & Lewis 1963, Group X; Baldus 1988, 176–9; Crawford 1985, 136; Visonà 1998, 14.

42 Appian 5.1.1.

43 Hoyos 2003, 11.

44 For an overly scathing view of Hamilcar’s talents as a general see Seibert 1993, 95–106.

45 Hoyos 2001b.

46 Polybius 1.56.1–1.58.6; Diodorus 24.5.1–24.9.2; Zonaras 8.16; Lazenby 1996, 143–50.

47 Goldsworthy 2000, 124.

48 Polybius 1.59–1.61; Diodorus 24.11.1–2; Lazenby 1996, 150–56; Goldsworthy 2000, 122–7.

49 Polybius 1.62.1–1.63.3; Lazenby 1996, 158.

50 Diodorus 24.10.2; Polybius 1.73.1, 1.74.7.

51 Hoyos 2007, 16–19.

52 Greene 1986; Hoyos (2007, 23–4) questions whether Hanno’s outlook was exclusively focused on expansion in Africa.

53 Bechtold 2007.

54 They had been illicitly dug up and sold to a private collector. At least one of the tablets (VII) has been exposed as a fake. The recent bibliography for the Entella tablets is understandably very large, and still growing. The clearest general survey is still Loomis 1994. Hoyos’s arguments (1998, 28–32) for a possible earlier-fourth-century date seem implausible.

CHAPTER 8: THE CAMP COMES TO CARTHAGE: THE MERCENARIES’ REVOLT

1 Polybius 1.62.3–6.

2 Ibid. 1.66.1; Diodorus 24.13.

3 Polybius 3.9.6–7; Livy 21.1.5.

4 Polybius 1.66.12; Appian 5.2.2–3. I have given Hoyos’s calculations (2007, 27–31) contra Loreto (1995, 48–9, 64–7), who, without any historical justification, argues that the arrears were no more than two months’ pay.

5 Polybius 1.66.1–1.67.12. For a detailed account of events at Sicca see Hoyos 2007, 40–50. Hoyos (2007, 46–7) must be correct in his argument (contra Loreto 1995, 57–61) that there was no offer from Hanno to reemploy the troops for a further military campaign in Africa.

6 Polybius 1.67.4.

7 Ibid. 1.67.8–11.

8 Hoyos (2007, 53–60) sees many of the mercenaries’ claims as being essentially legitimate, if exaggerated.

9 Polybius 1.68.1–1.69.3. Hoyos (2007, 26) is most probably correct in rejecting a story in Appian (5.2.3) that the Carthaginians massacred 3,000 Libyan deserters, who had been handed over to them by the Romans (contra Loreto 1995, 89).

10 Acquaro 1989, 137–8.

11 Polybius 1.69.4–1.70.6.

12 Ibid. 1.70.8–9, 1.72.1–5. Hoyos (2007, 93–4) thinks that it is possible that the rebels at the height of the conflict did have this number of troops. See Hoyos 2007, xiii, n. 2, for a list of previous Libyan insurrections and alliances with Carthage’s enemies. Loreto (1995, 87–113) makes too much of Libyan disaffection being at the heart of the conflict, while at the same time playing down the role of the mercenaries in the insurgency. Manfredi (2003, 378–404) argues that during the mid third century BC, the Carthaginians were engaged in a campaign of Punicization in the Libyan interior. However, the process of acculturation through a number of different channels, including army service, had probably been taking place over a much longer period.

13 Hoyos 2007, 84–5.

14 Polybius 1.67.7; Hoyos 2007, 6–10, on the ethnic make-up and conditions of service for these mercenaries.

15 Carradice & La Niece 1988; Acquaro 1989. For the various interpretations of the initials M, A and Z also found on the coins see Hoyos 2007, 141–2. The most plausible, but by no means secure, theory is that they stand for the initials of the rebel leaders Mathos, Autaritus and Zarzas. The theory of Manganaro (1992, 93–9) that these coins were minted much later, and based on Sicilian coinage dating to 214–211, is clearly incorrect.

16 There is no real evidence to support the claim, made by Loreto (1995, 112), that Mathos’ ambition was to establish a Libyan monarchical state.

17 Carradice & La Niece 1988, 51. The heads of the deities Zeus and (wearing a Corinthian helmet) Athena were both commonly used on Syracusan coinage. The horned bull was the most common emblem for the cities of Campania. The lion was a popular emblem in Punic Sicily. Manfredi (1999, 74) sees this coinage as an opportunity for the different ethnic elements within the rebel force to proclaim their known autonomy.

18 Carradice & La Niece 1988, 37.

19 There is no evidence to support Loreto’s argument (1995, 87–113) that this was essentially a Libyan rebellion, with the other mercenaries in the Libyans’ paid employ.

20 Polybius 1.65.6.

21 Carradice & La Niece 1988, 49–50.

22 Polybius 1.71.6–8.

23 Ibid. 1.74.6–7.

24 Ibid. 1.73.1–1.75.2.

25 For a detailed account of the battle see Hoyos 2007, 115–24.

26 For more on Naravas see Hoyos 2007, 146–50.

27 Polybius 1.75.1–1.78.9.

28 Ibid. 1.78.10–1.80.13.

29 Ibid. 1.81.1–1.82.10.

30 Ibid. 1.83.1–11.

31 Ibid. 1.83.6–8, 3.28.3–4; Appian 5.2.3, 8.12.86; Zonaras 8.18; Hoyos 1998, 123–6. Appian’s assertion that the Romans also sent mediators to North Africa is very unlikely to have been true (Hoyos 2007, 129). There is no evidence to support the contention of Hoyos (1998, 125) that the Romans agreed to lower or to postpone the indemnity that Carthage had to pay.

32 Crawford 1985, 41–3, 106–9; Polybius 1.58.7–1.59.1.

33 Hoyos 1998, 126.

34 For a study of this arsenical copper-alloy coinage see Carradice & La Niece 1998, 41–5.

35 Polybius 1.84.1–1.85.7. For a reconstruction of events at the Saw see Hoyos 2007, 197–218.

36 Polybius 1.86.1–6.

37 Ibid. 1.87.1–1.88.7.

38 Ibid. 1.79.1–7; Hoyos 2007, 154–9.

39 Polybius 1.79.9–10. Both African and Sardinian rebels used the motif of three ears of corn on their coins, which was not a design found on Carthaginian coins (Visonà 1992, 125–6; Carradice & La Niece 1988, 38–9), which suggests some contact between the two groups.

40 Polybius 1.88.8–12, 3.10.3–5.

41 Ibid. 3.28.1–2; Champion 2004, 119–20.

42 Zonaras 8.18; Appian 6.1.4, 8.1.5. Other later Roman historians would argue that Sardinia was merely ceded to Rome (Livy 21.40.5, 22.54.11). For the lack of evidence for a series of new confrontations between Rome and Carthage in the early 230s see Hoyos 1998, 134–5.

43 Harris 1979, 192–3; Huss 1985, 266–7, contra Hoyos (1998, 142), who sees it as a way of protecting Sicily and perhaps Italy.

44 Polybius 1.88.9.

45 Hoyos 1998, 142.

46 Ibid., 135.

47 Lancel 1999, 23.

48 Visonà 1998, 11.

49 Hoyos 1994, 264.

50 Livy 21.1.

51 Polybius 1.82.12.

52 Cornelius Nepos Ham. 3.2.

53 Appian 6.1.4. There has been some dispute over the correct dating of the attempted prosecution of Hamilcar Barca. Loreto (1995, 205–10) and Lancel (1999, 28) accept Appian’s date of 237, whereas Seibert (1993, 13–14) and Hoyos (2007, 20–21) insist on 241, when Hamilcar’s popularity and political power base were at a low ebb.

54 Polybius 6.51.6–8.

55 Aristotle Pol. 2.11.1–2.

56 Huss 1985, 496–7.

57 Although around 10 per cent of the votive dedications that have been found in the city were erected by females, it is striking that in most cases female supplicants were identified by their patrilineal descent or by the name of their husband (Amadasi Guzzo 1988, 144–7). Elite families also made joint sacrifices, with father and daughter offering male and female sacrificial victims respectively.

58 Huss 1985, 497–8. On some inscriptions, named individuals are referred to as ‘belonging to’ (š) another person (Amadasi Guzzo 1988, 143–4).

59 One inscription lists guilds of porters and packers, gold-smelters, smiths, vessel-blowers and even sandal-makers who had contributed to the construction of a new street.

60 Champion 2004, 173–234.

61 Diodorus 25.8.

62 Zambon 2006, 78–85.

63 Polybius 2.1.5; Diodorus 25.8.

64 Polybius 3.24.

65 Wagner 1989, 152. It has been suggested that a series of fortified compounds dating from the fifth to the third century located in eastern Andalusia may have been Carthaginian bases for controlling the mines.

66 Guerrero Ayuso 1989, 101–5.

67 Strabo 3.2.14.

68 Jenkins 1987, 215–16; Visonà 1998, 14–16.

69 Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 33–8.

CHAPTER 9: BARCID SPAIN

1 Although those who argue that that Barcid Spain operated as a kind of independent monarchy probably take this argument too far (Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 38ff.).

2 For Barcid political domination of Carthage during this period see Hoyos 1994, 259–64.

3 Lancel 1999, 29–30.

4 Appian 7.2, 6.5; Zonaras 8.17.

5 Appian 7.2, 6.5; Hoyos 1994, 270–72.

6 Polybius 2.1.6, contra Diodorus (25.10.1), who states that the army sailed from Carthage.

7 Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 28–9; Barcelo 1988, 37. There is certainly evidence of later tensions. During the Second Punic War the Carthaginian commander of Gades requisitioned all the valuables from the temple and the city and imposed a war tax on its inhabitants. The city council retaliated by secretly negotiating the handover of Gades to the Romans. Mago, the Carthaginian commander-in-chief, executed them for their treachery.

8 Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 33.

9 Diodorus 25.10.1–2.

10 Lancel 1999, 36.

11 Diodorus 5.35–8; Healy 1978, 68.

12 Polybius 34.9.8–11; Strabo 3.2.10; Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 33–4.

13 González de Canales, Serrano & Llompart 2006.

14 Diodorus 25.10.3; Lancel 1999, 36–7.

15 Diodorus 25.12.

16 Villaronga 1973, 95–107.

17 Ibid., 98–101. It is now believed that an issue of Carthaginian silver drachmas found in Spain date to well before the Barcid expedition (Villaronga 1992).

18 Villaronga 1973, 124–5. See Lehmler 2005, 60–96, for the coinage of Hiero II.

19 Warships also appear on the coins of Tyre and Sidon during this period (Villaronga 1973, 57).

20 Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 48.

21 Villaronga 1973, 61.

22 Ibid., 49–50; Chávez Tristán & Ceballos 1992, 173–5.

23 There is certainly a case for arguing that this design was chosen simply because the Alexander/Heracles tetradrachm was the most ubiquitous silver coinage in the Hellenistic world during that period, and would therefore have been attractive to the mercenary troops in Carthaginian employ. In fact it has been calculated that this same image was being produced on coinage by at least 51 different mints throughout the Mediterranean world and the East in the last quarter of the third century BC (Price 1991, 72–8). Its use may also have been a reaction to Agathocles, who had also put Heracles on his coinage. Just as the ‘portrait’ of Heracles on some of Alexander’s coinage minted after his demise was an idealized likeness of the Great King, there has been some suggestion that the ‘portrait’ of Heracles on these coins may have borne some idealized likeness to Agathocles (Dahmen 2007).

24 Piccaluga 1974, 111–22.

25 Polybius 2.1.7–8; Diodorus 25.10.3–4; Cornelius Nepos Ham. 22.4.2; Appian 6.1.5; Zonaras 8.19.

26 Livy 21.2.4.

27 Polybius 3.8.1–4; Cornelius Nepos Ham. 22.3.3. Hoyos (1994, 247–59; 1998, 150–52) argues that Barcid political support in Carthage itself was very secure, and that ‘from 237 the Carthaginian republic was in some ways a de facto military monarchy.’ My own view follows that of Schwarte (1983) and Huss (1985): that there was in fact a good deal of tension between pro-Barcid and anti-Barcid factions in Carthage.

28 Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 48–9. Cf. Crawford 1985, 87, for the lack of a real fiscal structure in Barcid Spain.

29 Diodorus 25.12.

30 Polybius 10.10.

31 For Barcid ambitions in Spain see Barcelo 1988, 145–51; Schwarte 1983, 37–74.

32 Visonà 1998, 15–16; Jenkins 1987, 215–16.

33 Rich 1996, 20; Errington 1970, 37–41, for possible Massilian involvement –an idea strongly disputed by Hoyos (1998, 171). The Massilians had a colonial presence in north-eastern Spain.

34 Dio Fr. 48. Errington (1970, 32–4) and Hoyos (1998, 147–9) both argue that the story was false; however, they have no really strong grounds for such an opinion.

35 Polybius 2.13.7, 3.27.10; Lancel 1999, 40–41. Hoyos (1998, 169–70) subscribes to the idea that Hasdrubal threatened either to ally himself with or to take advantage of the chaos caused by the much anticipated Gallic invasion of northern Italy. This idea had earlier been discounted by Rich (1996, 21–3).

36 Polybius 2.36.1; Livy 21.2.6.

37 Livy 21.3.3–8.

38 Ibid. 21.3.5. See also ibid. 21.4.2.

39 Villaronga (1973, 121) contends that this group of coins (III) were minted during the command of either Hamilcar or Hasdrubal. However Volk (2006), in a closely argued study, has recently put forward the suggestion that this series and the later series XI, which were previously associated by scholars with the Second Punic War, were in fact much closer together in time. As series XI is clearly dated to the correct period, this suggests that series III must be later than Villaronga’s dates.

40 There has been much scholarly debate about whether any of these coins portrayed the Barcids (Robinson 1953, 42–3; Villaronga 1973, 45–7).

41 Livy 24.41.7.

42 Polybius 3.13.5–3.14.10; Livy 21.5.1–17.

43 Polybius 3.30.1–2; Harris 1979, 201–2.

44 Polybius 3.15.7.

45 Ibid. 3.15. Livy (21.6) makes no mention of the ambassadors visiting either destination, but merely states that the Roman Senate had decided to send an embassy, but this did not have time to leave before events overtook it. See Rich 1996, 10–12, on why the Roman ultimatum and its rejection occurred long before Hannibal crossed the Hiberus.

46 Pliny NH 33.96–7; Blásquez Martinez & García-Gelabert Pérez 1991, 33–4; Villaronga 1973, 97–101.

47 Polybius 3.17.1–11; Livy 21.6–9. There is some debate over whether the Roman embassies mentioned by Polybius and Livy respectively before and during the siege of Saguntum may in fact have been the same incident (Lancel 1999, 50).

48 Livy 21.9.4.

49 See Rich 1996, 13, on opposition to the Barcids in Carthage.

50 Visonà 1998.

51 Greene 1986, 118–51; Bechtold 2007, 65.

52 Morel 1982; Chelbi 1992; Bechtold 2007, 53–4. This black-glaze pottery was so popular that Carthaginian potters began to imitate it.

53 This was certainly the position of the first Roman historian, Fabius Pictor, who, as a senator during this period, was party to the discussions and debates that went on (Polybius 3.8.1–3.9.5).

54 Schwarte 1983, 64–74.

55 Livy 21.10.2–13.

56 Ibid. 21.11.1.

57 Seibert (1993, 58–60) speculates that there may have been some kind of debate before the Carthaginian Council of Elders gave their support to Hannibal.

58 Dio 13.54.11.

59 Zonaras 8.22.2–3; Polybius 3.20.1–5. Rich (1996, 29–30) sees the delay as being for mechanistic and strategic reasons, rather than the result of a real division in opinion among the Roman Senate. Hoyos (1998, 226–232) sees the delay as being primarily caused by dissension within the Senate.

60 Livy 21.11.3–21.15.2.

61 The councillor probably had a valid case, as Hasdrubal’s agreement with Rome was a unilateral covenant, pledged by the general on campaign, but never validated later (Bickerman 1952b). For Polybius’ rather partisan view of Carthaginian fault in regard to Saguntum, see Serrati 2006, 130–34.

62 Livy 21.16.1–21.18.14; Polybius 3.20–21, 3.33.1–4.

63 Polybius 3.9.1–6, 3.12.7. Two exceptions were Bagnall 1999, 124, and Dorey & Dudley 1971.

64 Goldsworthy 2000, 148.

65 Huss 1985, 288–93.

66 Harris 1979, 200–205; Hoyos 1998, 264, for the idea that after the Carthaginian capture of Saguntum, the Romans ‘foresaw a straightforward and no doubt profitable war’.

67 Rich 1996, 31–2.

68 For the most lucid exposition of this argument see ibid., 14–18.

CHAPTER 10: DON’T LOOK BACK

1 Livy 21.21.10–13; Polybius 3.33.5–16.

2 Cornell, Rankov & Sabin (eds.) 1996, 52–3.

3 Polybius 6.52.3–4.

4 Daly 2002, 128.

5 Polybius 9.22.1–4, 9.24.5–9.25.6.

6 Livy 21.11.13.

7 For a detailed breakdown of the different ethnic components and their particular specializations see Daly 2002, 84–112; Lazenby 1978, 14–16; Lancel 1999, 60–61.

8 On Celtic warfare see Rawlings 1996, 86–8.

9 For the most recent research on Hannibal’s use of elephants in his campaigns see Rance 2009; Charles & Rhodan 2007. For a general study of the use of elephants in the Graeco-Roman world see Scullard 1974.

10 Lancel 1999, 62–4; Rance 2009, 106–7.

11 Daly 2002, 83.

12 Brizzi 1995, 312–15. On the make-up of Hannibal’s army more generally see Goldsworthy 2000, 32–6.

13 Sabin 1996.

14 Polybius 6.52.10–11.

15 Even in the mid second century BC, when Polybius gained his experience of the Roman army, there were still considerable tensions between the Romans and Italians, which eventually led to a terrible civil war.

16 At the Battle of the Trebia, there were 20,000 allied troops, compared with 16,000 Roman citizens.

17 Lazenby 1996, 11–12.

18 Lazenby 1978, 31–2.

19 Livy 21.20.6.

20 Polybius 3.16–19.

21 Polybius 3.20.8, 7.9.1; Walbank 1957–79, I: 334–5, II: 44–5.

22 For an example of the difficulties created by the imposition of a monolithic and modern model of ‘propaganda’ on the Greek and Roman worlds see P. Taylor 1995, 25–48.

23 Both Sosylus and Silenus wrote accounts of Hannibal’s campaigns which, although probably written after the Carthaginian general had eventually been forced to evacuate Italy, undoubtedly drew on earlier accounts. See Diodorus 26.4; Cornelius Nepos Ham. 23.13.3; Walbank 1985, 129–30.

24 Spencer 2002, 7–9.

25 Cornelius Nepos Ham. 23.13.3. For the debate over the origins of Silenus see Spada 2002, 238. A number of other Greek historians had also quickly realized that Hannibal had the necessary star quality for a major historical blockbuster, although only their names now survive–for example Eumachus of Neapolis, mentioned in Athenaeus 13.576. However, Hoyos (2001a) is surely correct in his assessment that there is no clear evidence that the papyrus fragment P. Rylands III.491, which appears to relate to the peace terms dictated to the Carthaginians in 203 BC and the following breakdown of that truce, should be viewed as a pro-Carthaginian account. Hoyos’s argument that the author was in fact the Roman historian Fabius Pictor is impossible to substantiate.

26 Walbank 1957–79, I: 316.

27 Cicero Div. 1.24.48.

28 Brizzi 1995, 309.

29 Cornelius Nepos Ham. 23.13.3. Those works reportedly included a study addressed to the people of the island of Rhodes on the Roman general Gnaeus Manlius Vulso’s subjugation of Asia Minor. The fact that an ancient forger wrote a fictitious letter in Greek from Hannibal to the Athenians shows that it was generally recognized in the ancient world that the Carthaginian general was a well-educated man (Brizzi 1991).

30 Dio 13.54.3.

31 Sosylus, Pap. Wurzburg, FGH, IIB: 903–6. Although scholars have long argued over the location of this defeat without any definite conclusions, it is widely believed that it is most likely to have been off the coast of Spain (Krings 1998, 217–60).

32 Krings 1998, 226. Recently it has been tentatively suggested that Sosylus may have been the original source of a small excerpt relating to Hannibal’s use of elephants now attributed to Diodorus Siculus (Rance 2009, 108–10).

33 Polybius 3.20.1–5.

34 Spada 2002, 239–40. Surviving excerpts of the work include a description of a garden used by Hieron, king of Syracuse, explanations for the name of a common herb on the island, and the source of the name of the Sicilian city of Palice. Walbank (1968–9, 487–97) perhaps underestimates their significance, although he is probably right that the Sicilia was not a conventional history, contra La Bua (1966, 277–9).

35 Cicero Letters to Friends. 9.25.1; Franke 1989, 456, n. 1.

36 Campus 2005.

37 Pausanias 12.3.4.

38 Picard 1983–4; Rawlings 2005, 164–71; Knapp 1986, 118–19.

39 Polybius 12.28, 3.48.

40 Polybius 14.1; Walbank 1957–79, I: 63–130; Scuderi 2002, 277–84; Hoyos 1998, 42–3, 55–6, 82–3, 95–8, 100–104. Polybius clearly respected Philinus’ didactic approach, which closely mirrored his own (Walbank 1985, 77–98). La Bua’s (1966) elaborate hypothesis (that Philinus was Polybius’ main source for his account of the First Punic War, and that Diodorus’ account from the death of Agathocles through to the First Punic War came from Philinus via the later western-Greek historian Silenus) is impossible to prove. It has also been suggested that Philinus was personally influenced by the harsh treatment that his home city received from the Romans on its capture in 261, and that he may have accompanied the Carthaginian army on campaign (Galvagno 2006, 254–6; Scuderi 2002, 275–7). Thus it has also been argued that Polybius’ detailed account of the siege of Lilybaeum in 250–249 (41.4ff.) came from Philinus’ eyewitness account (Lazenby 1996, 2).

41 Diodorus 23.1.4.

42 Walbank 1985, 90.

43 Broughton 1951–6, I: 229; Badian 1958, 36–43; Hoyos 1998, 122.

44 Polybius 3.28.1–2, 3.15.9–11.

45 Ibid. 7.4.1–2; Livy 24.6.4–8.

46 This can also be seen in the treaties that he later agreed with some Greek cities in Italy, which recognized their political freedoms (Hoyos 1998, 268).

47 De Angelis & Garstad 2006, 213–25; Malkin 2005.

48 Diodorus had extensively used Sicilian Greek authors such as Timaeus, and perhaps also Silenus (La Bua 1966, 249–52, 277–9; Vattoune 2002, 217–22; Pearson 1987, 11–12, 24–5).

49 Dionysius 1.41.1.

50 Fox 1993, 144–5; Rawlings 2005, 169–70.

51 Dionysius 1.41.1–2.

52 Ibid. 1.42.2–3.

53 Ibid. 1.42.4.

54 Twelve inscriptions have so far been found in the Oscan language spoken in these areas. In a recent essay, Guy Bradley (2005) has persuasively argued that many of the commonly assumed reasons for the popularity of Hercules in central Italy, such as Samnite bellicosity and local religious ‘beliefs’, are heavily influenced by later Roman and modern constructions of what these peoples were like.

55 Villaronga 1973, Series XI.

56 Onasander 10.26, tr. Daly 2002, 137.

57 Daly 2002, 135.

58 Athenaeus 6.246c–d. For Hannibal’s skills in motivating and controlling his Celtic warriors see Rawlings 1996, 88–9. For his use of Melqart, Heracles, Hercules and perhaps Gallic and Libyan deities to bring coherency to his ethnically diverse army see Brizzi 1984a, 150.

59 Dio 13.54.4.

60 Vegetius Pref. 3. Daly (2002, 88) must be correct in his assertion that there is no evidence of Sosylus fulfilling a military function for Hannibal.

61 Livy 21.21.9.

62 According to the later Greek geographer Strabo (2.145), who himself cited Polybius as the source of his information, the spring flowed inversely to the movement of the sea tide, falling with the flood and filling up at the ebb. Polybius had tried to furnish a scientific explanation for this strange phenomenon, developing a complex argument that revolved around the expulsion of air from the depth of the earth, but his ideas were not accepted by all. Silenus was reported as having his own theory about the workings of the spring, although Strabo fails to tell us what they were, preferring instead to dismiss Silenus as a layman who had no understanding of such complex matters. However, the fact that this spring was associated with Heracles–Melqart strongly suggests that this may have been the root of Silenus’ interest in it, and that his theory had some kind of association with the god/ hero (Briquel 2004). It is only in a much later fanciful Roman account, Silius Italicus’ Punica, that we are furnished with any details of Hannibal’s visit. It is likely that Silius, with a little poetic licence, was describing what the temple looked like in his own day, over 250 years after Hannibal’s visit. Yet it is striking how the Semitic aspects of the cult had survived. Silius describes how the timber from which the temple was built had never decayed and how neither women nor swine were allowed to cross its threshold. Its shaven-headed, barefoot priests wore long robes and headbands and took a vow of celibacy. In the temple itself the fires by the altar were kept permanently alight, and no statues or images of the gods were allowed.

63 Cicero Div. 1.49 (Coelius Fr. 11).

64 Hannibal’s dream appears to have intrigued ancient Greek and Roman writers as much as it has modern scholars. There are three other surviving versions of the story: in Livy (21.22.5–9), in Silius Italicus (Pun. 3.163–213) and in Dio (13.56.9, copied in Zonaras 8.22). These other versions of the tale appear to have adapted the story to place it in a far more sinister and indeed more hostile light. Modern commentators have understandably focused on the differences between these versions in the context of the role that dreams played in Roman historiography. For Levene (1993, 45–6) the crucial transformation between the Ciceronian and Livian accounts is that, whereas in the former it is the dream that convinces Hannibal to undertake the invasion of Italy, Livy has it that he had already decided on this course of action, meaning that the Carthaginian general’s campaign may have been temporally supported by the gods, but was not divinely ordained. Pelling (1997, 202–4) sees the Livian account as clearly signposting divine ambivalence towards Hannibal and his cause (‘He must ask no more questions. He should allow destiny to remain in darkness’), with the reader, who already knows what fate has in store for Hannibal, being complicit in this. Stübler (1941, 95–6) takes this idea even further, describing Hannibal’s joy at what he is told as a form of blindness. See also Cipriani 1984.

65 Valerius Maximus, 1.7, ext. 1.

66 For the dream offering divine sanction to bolster the resolve of Hannibal’s troops see Seibert 1993, 186–7. For the identity of the guide see most recently the very persuasive arguments of Briquel (2004) contra the suggestion of Foulon (2003) that the divine messenger was in fact the god Mercury Aletes.

67 Rawlings 2005, 158–61.

68 D’Arco 2002, 160–1.

69 Polybius 3.47.7–9.

70 Livy 21.41.7.

71 More generally on the accusations of impiety levelled at Hannibal see Fucecchi 1990.

CHAPTER 11: IN THE FOOTSTEPS OF HERACLES

1 Polybius 3.34.3–6.

2 Ibid. 3.35; Livy 21.23.4–6.

3 Livy 21.24.2.

4 Ibid. 21.24.5.

5 Archaeological evidence for contemporary conflict and the destruction of native oppida (fortified hilltop settlements) in the region during this period may well be connected to the Carthaginian presence (Barruol 1976, 683). Seibert (1993, 110) has argued for the establishment of garrisons along the route, but Morel (1986, 43) has pointed out that the Carthaginian amphorae and other artefacts found at these sites by archaeologists probably owe more to the activities of Punic merchants in the region. Lancel (1999, 66) argues further that manning garrisons would have quickly depleted Hannibal’s troops.

6 I have taken Lancel’s excellent study as my guide for Hannibal’s route to Italy. For a detailed discussion of the multitude of different scholarly and unscholarly opinions on his itinerary see Lancel 1999, 57–80.

7 Polybius 3.42–3, 3.45–6; Livy 21.26.6–21.28.12.

8 Polybius 3.36.

9 Ibid. 3.48.

10 Polybius claims, by contrast, that it was a new generation of Gallic leaders who had not experienced their forebears’ bitter struggles with the Romans who provoked conflict in 225 BC. See Vishnia 1996, 17–18.

11 Polybius 2.13.6. See also Florus 1.19.2.

12 See Vishnia 1996, 13–25.

13 Indeed, it would not be until after the end of the Second Punic War that Rome managed partially to regain control of the region. For a full account of the Roman conquest of Cisalpine Gaul and Liguria see Toynbee 1965, 252–85.

14 For Graeco-Roman stereotyping of the Celtic peoples and other tribal peoples see Rawlings 1996, 84–5.

15 Rawlings 1996, 86–7 on Celtic warfare.

16 Polybius 2.19, 2.21. See Rawlings 1996, 82.

17 Dio 14.6b.

18 Polybius 25.16. For Hannibal’s disguises see ibid. 3.78; Zonaras 8.24; Livy 22.1.

19 Polybius 3.40.1–3.41.5; Livy 21.25.1–21.26.5.

20 Polybius 3.44.1–3.45.4; Livy 21.29.

21 Polybius 3.49.1–4; Livy 21.32.1–5.

22 Polybius 3.49.5–3.50.2; Livy 21.31.1–12.

23 Ammianus Marcellinus 15.10.4–6.

24 Polybius 3.50.3–3.53.8; Livy 21.32.6–21.35.3.

25 Livy 21.35.8–9.

26 Ibid. 21.36.7–8. Polybius (3.54.4–3.55.4) also gives an account of the terrible difficulties both men and beasts had with the icy conditions.

27 Livy 21.37.2–3. See Polybius 3.55.6–9 for a similar but far less exciting version of this story.

28 Ammianus Marcellinus 15.10.2.

29 I have once again followed Lancel’s sensible suggestions concerning Hannibal’s route over the Alps.

30 Ammianus Marcellinus 15.10.9–10.

31 Polybius 3.56.3–4; Livy 21.38.2–5.

32 Polybius 3.60.8–10; Livy 21.38.4.

33 Polybius 3.56.5–6; Livy 21.39.3.

34 Polybius 3.63. See also Livy 21.42.

35 Livy 21.43–4.

36 Ibid. 21.46.10; Polybius 3.65.1–8.

37 Polybius 3.66, 3.67.3; Livy 21.48.10.

38 For a detailed account of Hannibal’s tactics at the Trebia see Goldsworthy 2000, 173–81.

39 Polybius 3.68.11–3.75.3; Livy 21.52.1–21.56.8.

40 Polybius 3.77.4. For Hannibal’s other efforts, some unsuccessful, to persuade the Italians to desert the Romans see David 1996, 55–60.

41 Polybius 3.74.11. Livy’s (21.57–9) account of Hannibal campaigning in that winter is confused and nonsensical (Lancel 1999, 89; Goldsworthy 2000, 181).

42 Polybius 3.79; Livy 22.2.

43 Livy 22.4–6; Polybius 3.82.9–3.84.15. Goldsworthy 2000, 181–90.

44 Polybius 3.85.3–4; Livy 22.7.

45 Polybius 3.86.1–5; Livy 22.8.1–2.

46 Livy 22.1.10.

47 Ibid. 21.62. The celestial consort of Hercules, Juventas, was also invoked, and again a second time in 207 (Livy 36.36.5–6). See also Rawlings 2005, 162.

48 Polybius 3.86.8–3.87.5; Livy 22.9.1–6.

49 Livy 22.7.6–14 (quote = 22.7.9); Polybius 3.85.7–10.

50 Polybius 3.87.6–9; Livy 22.8.6–7.

51 Plutarch Fab. 5.1–2.

52 Polybius 3.88.1–3.92.7; Livy 22.11.1–22.13.11; Plutarch Fab. 5.3.

53 Polybius 3.90.6; Livy 22.14.

54 Livy 30.26.9.

55 Ibid. 22.23.2–8.

56 Plutarch Fab. 6.

57 Polybius 3.92.8–3.94.6; Livy 22.15.11–22.18.4.

58 Polybius 3.101.1–3.105.3; Livy 22.23.1–22.27.11.

59 ILLRP 118; Rawlings 2005, 161.

60 Livy 22.9.7–11.

61 Gruen 1992, 22–9; Galinsky 1969, 160–63.

62 Polybius 1.55.6.

63 Polybius 1.58.2, 1.58.7–8; Diodorus 24.8.

64 Schilling 1954, 243.

65 Ibid., 235–9.

66 The exploitation of Rome’s Trojan ‘heritage’ may also be seen in the priests’ injunction to construct a temple to Mens, a quality often associated with clear-headed calculation and composure–those qualities attributed by Greek authors to Aeneas himself. By constructing a temple to Mens, Fabius was thus perhaps attempting to convince the Roman public that his patient, unglamorous tactics were in fact deeply rooted in Roman tradition.

67 Plutarch Fab. 5.1.

68 Of particular significance in this regard was the goddess Juno, the consort of Jupiter, who was commonly associated with the Punic goddesses Astarte and Tanit, and to whom the Romans made a series of gifts to appease her with regard to both their own city and those in Latium during the terrible run of defeats of 218/217. See Livy 21.62.9, 22.1.

69 Ibid. 25.1.6–9.

70 Ibid. 25.1.10–11.

71 Ibid. 22.10.2–6.

72 Ibid. 22.36.1–5; Polybius 3.107.9–15.

73 Livy 22.38.6–22.41.3.

74 Polybius 3.110.1–3.112.9; Livy 22.41.1–22.45.4.

75 Livy 22.45.5–22.46.7; Polybius 3.113.1–3.114.8.

76 Livy 22.47.

77 Ibid. 22.47.1–22.49.18; Polybius 3.115.1–3.117.12. For detailed descriptions of the actual battle see Daly 2002; Lancel 1999, 103–8; Goldsworthy 2000, 198–214.

78 Livy 22.51.5–9.

79 Ibid. 22.49.16–17. For the escape of Varro see Polybius 3.116.13; Livy 22.49.14.

80 Livy 22.51.1–4.

81 Lancel 1999, 96–7; Lazenby 1978, 85–6. Lazenby (1996, 41) also points out that it would have taken Hannibal’s army much longer than the five days that Maharbal suggested to reach Rome.

82 Lazenby 1978, 41–6.

83 Livy 22.58.1–9.

84 Polybius 6.58.1–13; Livy 22.59.1–22.61.10.

85 Livy 22.58.3.

CHAPTER 12: THE ROAD TO NOWHERE

1 Livy 35.14.5–8.

2 Ibid. 35.14.9.

3 P. Green 1986, 231.

4 Livy 23.4.8.

5 Livy 23.6.1–3. Hannibal’s promise of freedom for the Italians is treated with scepticism by Erskine (1993), who argues that it was a Greek concept and probably therefore an invention of Polybius. For an analysis of the Capuans’ motivations for switching allegiance to Hannibal see Fronda 2007.

6 Livy 23.7.1–2.

7 Ibid. 23.7.3.

8 Ibid. 23.10.1–2.

9 Ibid. 23.8.1–23.9.13.

10 Ibid. 23.7.4–12, 23.10.3–10.

11 Crawford 1985, 62–4.

12 See Fronda 2007 for an in-depth discussion of Capua’s relationship with Hannibal. Quote = Fronda 2007, 104–5.

13 Livy 23.18.10–16.

14 Goldsworthy 2000, 222–6.

15 Livy 23.11.7–23.12.7.

16 Ibid. 23.12.13–17.

17 Ibid. 23.13.1–8.

18 Ibid. 24.4.1–9.

19 Polybius 7.2; Livy 24.5.7–8, 24.6.2–3.

20 Livy 24.21.1–24.27.5.

21 Ibid. 24.29.1–24.32.9.

22 Ibid. 24.33.1–24.34.16. For a good summary of events leading up to the siege see Eckstein 1987, 135–55.

23 Livy 24.35.3–24.39.13.

24 Sardinia = Livy 23.32.7–12, 23.34.10–17, 23.40.1–23.41.7.

25 Ibid. 23.26.1–3.

26 Ibid. 23.27.9–23.29.17.

27 Ibid. 23.49.5–14, 24.41.1–24.42.11.

28 Ibid. 25.32.1–5. For the Scipios’ campaigns in Spain between 218 and 211 see Eckstein 1987, 188–207.

29 Polybius 7.9; Bickerman 1944 (repr. 1985, 257–72).

30 Barré 1983, 38–64–contra Huss (1986, 228–30), who believes that in the front rank Zeus was identified with Baal Shamen and Hera with Astarte partly because the association between Baal Hammon and Tanit and child sacrifice was considered to be unacceptable by the ‘liberals’ in Carthage. In his interpretation Tanit is associated with Artemis and Baal Hammon with Cronus. However, I see no reason not to place Baal Hammon and Tanit in the front rank, as they were by this period the most prominent deities in Carthage and there is no evidence for a ‘liberal’ group there.

31 Barré 1983, 64–86. However, there is some controversy as to whether in fact Iolaos in the treaty text corresponded with the Punic god Sid rather than Eshmoun.

32 Ibid., 12–14, 100–101; Huss 1986, 238.

33 Contra Bickerman 1985, 391–4.

34 Lancel 1999, 117.

35 Visonà 1998, 16–19.

36 Crawford 1985, 62.

37 Lancel 1999, 122–3.

38 Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus would be consul in 215 and 213 and Marcus Claudius Marcellus in 214, 210 and 208, while Quintus Fulvius Flaccus was elected in 212 and 209. Furthermore, all these men held proconsular office throughout this period, meaning that they retained their military commands (Goldsworthy 2000, 226–8).

39 Livy 22.57.5–6, 23.11.1–6.

40 Ibid. 22.57.6.

41 Bellen 1985, 13–23.

42 Polybius 8.37; Livy 25.23.8–25.24.7; Plutarch Marc. 19.1.

43 Livy 25.26.1–15.

44 Ibid. 25.27.1–13.

45 Ibid. 25.28.1–25.30.12. For accounts of the siege of Syracuse see Lancel 1999, 124–7; Goldsworthy 2000, 260–68.

46 Eckstein 1987, 177–83.

47 Crawford 1985, 109–10; Visonà 1998, 19.

48 Walbank 1957–79, II: 100–101. It is thought that, whereas Polybius had read Silenus, Livy had taken his account from Coelius Antipater, who had read the original account (Lancel 1999, 128).

49 Polybius 8.24.1–8.34.13; Livy 25.7.10–25.11.20.

50 Two important Italian cities, Metapontum and Thurii, fell to the Carthaginians soon after (Livy 25.15.6–7), and then two heavy military defeats were inflicted on the Roman army: one at the hands of the Lucanian tribes, who had now defected to the Carthaginians, and another at Herdonea in Apulia (ibid. 25.15.20–25.16.24, 25.21.1–10).

51 Polybius 8.34.12; Livy 25.15.4–5.

52 Livy 26.1.2–4, 26.4.1–10.

53 Ibid. 26.5.1–26.7.10; Polybius 9.3.1–9.4.5.

54 Livy 26.9.1–13; Polybius 9.4.6–9.5.3.

55 Polybius 9.6.1–2.

56 Livy 26.10.5–8.

57 Ibid. 26.9.7–8. For a similar description, Polybius 9.6.3.

58 Livy 26.10.1–2.

59 Ibid. 26.10.3.

60 Polybius 9.6.6–9.7.1.

61 Livy 26.11.1–7.

62 Ibid. 26.9.10.

63 Solinus 1.14–15.

64 Dionysius 1.43; Briquel 2000, 126.

65 However, there was some divergence over whether the king or Heracles was his father.

66 Briquel 2000, 126–7. The Gauls were the only people who had sacked Rome, under their king Brennus in 387. Some time earlier a Gallic army under Bellovesus had been the first since Heracles’ supposed crossing to traverse the Alps to attack Italy.

67 Livy 26.10.3.

68 Livy’s stories, with their emphasis on divine intervention on the side of the Romans and the ownership of land in Latium where Hannibal was camped, perhaps acted as a reaction to this Carthaginian propaganda.

69 Pliny NH 34.40.

70 Livy 26.12.1–26.16.13.

71 See Cicero’s character assassination of Capua in his speech On the Agrarian Law (2.76–97).

72 Livy 27.1.3–15.

73 Ibid. 26.38.1–26.39.23, 27.12.1–27.16.9.

74 Plutarch Fab. 22.6.

75 Frier 1979, 268–79. For the structure of the work see ibid., 255–84.

76 Ibid., 266–7.

77 Ibid., 284.

78 This is disputed by Gruen (1992, 231), who views the Annales as being aimed exclusively at a Roman senatorial audience. Gruen argues that there is little evidence of its being read in Greece and little in the fragments that looks as if it was aimed at a Greek audience. These are strong statements to make when the fragments that we have are so limited. My own opinion is that it was also meant for a Greek audience, but one primarily in Italy and Sicily.

79 Frier 1979, 281; Badian 1958, 3.

80 Frier 1979, 236–46.

81 Polybius 1.14.1–3. On Fabius Pictor’s career see Frier 1979, 233–6.

82 Frier 1979, 284; Badian 1958, 6.

83 Gruen 1992, 32–3.

84 Fabius Pictor Fr. 1.

85 This is found in a short description of his and several other Hellenistic historians’ work found painted on a plastered wall of a gymnasium fittingly in Tauromenium, the home town of Timaeus (Manganaro 1974; Frier 1979, 230–31).

86 Livy 25.32.1–25.36.16.

87 Ibid. 26.17.1–26.19.9; Scullard 1970, 31.

88 I would argue more strongly than Walbank (1957–79, II: 135–6) does that Scipio encouraged these stories. It is, of course, impossible to ascertain whether he really believed them.

89 De Vir. Illust. 49. Birth = Aulus Gellius 6.1.6; Livy 26.19.7–8; Dio 16.57.39; Valerius Maximus 1.2.1. The temple visit = Livy 26.19.5. For a study of the association between Scipio and Alexander the Great see Tise 2002, 45–64.

90 An idea briefly considered by Walbank 1957–79, II: 55. For later Roman comparisons between Scipio and Hercules, see Ennius in Lactantius Div. Inst. 1.18; Cicero Rep. Fr. 3, Horace Ode 4.8.15. For a full discussion see Walbank 1957–79, II: 54–8.

91 Polybius 10.5.5.

92 Scullard 1970, 164–5.

93 Livy 26.19.8–9.

94 For a detailed discussion of this phenomenon see Scullard 1970, 53–7. For the theory that in fact the ebb was caused by the effects of localized wind see Walbank 1957–79, II: 65–6.

95 Livy 26.42.2–26.46.10; Polybius 10.8.1–10.15.11; Goldsworthy 2000, 271–7; Lazenby 1978, 134–40.

96 Polybius 10.2.12–13.

97 Ibid. 10.17.6–10.18.5. For the good relations that Scipio carefully developed with the Spanish tribal leadership see Eckstein 1987, 212–20.

98 Livy 26.47.1–10; Polybius 10.19.1–2.

99 Livy 27.17.1–27.19.1; Polybius 10.34.1–10.39.9; Goldsworthy 2000, 277–9.

100 Livy 27.19.3; Polybius 10.40.2–5.

101 Livy 27.19.4–5. See also Polybius 10.40.4–5.

102 Livy 27.19.1, 27.20.3–8.

103 Ibid. 28.12.13–28.15.16; Goldsworthy 2000, 279–85.

104 Polybius 11.20.1–11.24.11; Livy 28.16.10–13.

105 Livy 28.19.11–28.37.10; Polybius 11.25.1–11.33.7.

106 Livy 27.37.1–15.

107 For the development of Juno as an enemy of the Romans in early Roman epic see Feeney 1991, 116–17.

108 See Dumézil 1970, 680–82, for the Pyrgi inscription.

109 Huss 1985, 235–6.

110 Livy 27.26.7–27.27.14, 27.33.6–7.

111 Ibid. 27.28.1–13.

112 Ibid. 27.39.1–9; Polybius 11.2.1.

113 Livy 27.39.10–27.49.4; Polybius 11.1.1–11.2.2; Goldsworthy 2000, 238–43.

114 Livy 27.51.11–13.

115 Although he had minted currency for his army in Italy, now he had both the time and the necessity (there was little chance any more to acquire war booty) to produce considerable quantities of coinage for the general populace too–usually bearing the prancing horse and head of Tanit associated with Carthaginian coinage (Crawford 1985, 66–7).

116 Livy 28.38.1–11.

117 Ibid. 28.40.1–28.45.11.

118 Ibid. 28.45.13–28.46.1, 29.1.1–14.

119 Ibid. 28.46.7–13.

120 Polybius 15.1.10–11.

121 Livy 28.46.14.

122 Ibid. 28.5.1–28.8.14; Goldsworthy 2000, 253–60.

123 Livy 29.12.8–16.

124 Ibid. 28.45.12.

125 Ibid. 29.10.4–29.11.8, 29.14.5–14; Ovid Fasti 4.247–348.

126 Gruen 1990, 6–7.

127 Ibid., 17–19.

CHAPTER 13: THE LAST AGE OF HEROES

1 Livy 28.17.10–28.18.12; Appian 7.9.55.

2 Livy 29.23.2–29.24.2.

3 Ibid. 29.24.10–29.27.15.

4 Ibid. 29.28.1–29.29.3, 29.34.1–29.35.15.

5 Ibid. 30.3.1–30.12.4.

6 Ibid. 30.16.1–15; Eckstein 1987, 246–9.

7 Livy 30.22.2–3.

8 Polybius 15.1–4; Livy 30.22.1–30.23.8.

9 Livy 30.20.1–4.

10 Ibid. 30.19.

11 Ibid. 30.20.5–9; Appian 7.9.59.

12 Polybius 3.33; Livy 28.46.16. For Livy’s treatment of Hannibal’s association with the sanctuary at Cape Lacinium see Jaeger 2006.

13 Campus 2003b.

14 Livy 24.3.3–7, 28.46.16.

15 Cicero Div. 1.24.48. Cicero stated that his source was Coelius Antipater, who later he states used Silenus for his information on Hannibal.

16 For Livy’s selectiveness in using Coelius and other sources so that the moral schema of his work remained unchallenged see Levene 1993, 68; Jaeger 2006, 408–9.

17 Wardle in Cicero, Div. 1 (2006), 229.

18 Servius Aen. 3.552.

19 Brizzi 1983, 246–51; Lancel 1999, 155–6.

20 Livy 42.3.4.

21 Crawford 1985, 66.

22 Livy 30.24.5–30.25.8, 30.29.1. A papyrus fragment from Egypt (P. Rylands III 491) dated to sometime before 130 BC appears to give a very different account of the diplomatic wrangling that went on at this time. In particular it makes no mention of the seizure of the Roman cargo ships or the attempted ambush, and has therefore led to the suspicion that these events may have been exaggerated or even completely falsified by Polybius and perhaps other pro-Roman writers (Hoffman 1942). Eckstein (1987, 253–4) has nevertheless convincingly argued that on balance Polybius’ account, although perhaps embellished to portray Scipio in as positive a light as possible, is probably to be trusted. See Hoyos 2001a for the suggestion that the papyrus fragment may in fact have been part of an epitome of the Roman historian Fabius Pictor.

23 Livy 30.29.1–4.

24 Ibid. 30.29.5–30.31.9.

25 Lazenby 1978, 221–7.

26 Livy 30.32.4–30.35.3.

27 Ibid. 30.35.4–30.37.6.

28 Ibid. 30.37.7–11, 30.42.11–30.43.9.

29 Cornelius Nepos Hann. 7.1–4; Aurelius Victor De Caes. 37.3.

30 Livy 33.46.1–33.47.5.

31 Lancel 1995, 404.

32 Livy 33.45.6–8. For general historical accounts of Rome’s wars with Antiochus see Grainger 2002; Errington 1971, 156–83.

33 Livy 33.48.9–33.49.8.

34 Ibid. 34.60.4–6. The plan to attack Italy was most probably designed to persuade Antiochus to buy into Hannibal’s grand strategy for a new war against Rome; see Grainger 2002, 143–5.

35 Grainger 2002, 143–5.

36 Livy 34.60.3–4.

37 See ibid. 36.7. The unrealistic nature of the proposals for attacking Italy has led some scholars to speculate that they were a later fabrication (Lancel 1999, 200; Grainger 2002, 223–4).

38 Grainger 2002, 270.

39 Livy 37.8.3, 37.23.7–37.24.13.

40 For Crete, see Cornelius Nepos Hann. 9.1; Justin 32.4.3–5. For Armenia see Strabo 11.14.6; Plutarch Luc. 31.4–5.

41 Livy 39.51.

42 Plutarch Flam. 21.5.

43 Ibid. 21.1.

44 De Beer 1969, 291.

45 Cornelius Nepos Hann. 13.2. For the outrages committed by the Romans, particularly against the Galatians, see Polybius 21.38; Livy 38.24.

46 Brizzi 1984b, 87–102; Momigliano 1977, 41.

47 For an account of the Scipios’ legal difficulties see Scullard 1970, 219–24.

48 See Levick 1982, 57–8, for the wider context of the tension between individual ambition and equality within the Roman Senate after the Second Punic War.

CHAPTER 14: THE DESOLATION OF CARTHAGE

1 Livy 36.4.8.

2 Greene 1986, 109–16.

3 Livy 31.19.2.

4 Ibid. 36.4.5–9.

5 Ibid. 43.6.11.

6 Morel 1982, 1986; Lancel 1995, 406–8; Bechtold 2007, 53–4.

7 Bechtold 2007, 53–4, 66–7; Lancel 1995, 408–9. This view of Carthaginian renewed prosperity as built on agriculture and trade is confirmed by Appian (8.10.67).

8 Crawford 1985, 72.

9 Visonà 1998, 20–22; Crawford 1985, 136–8. Crawford argues that Carthage’s last two issues of pure silver coinage were the result of its economic renaissance, whereas Visonà views them as the money that the Carthaginians had to mint to meet their war expenses at the outbreak of the Third Punic War.

10 Appian 8.14.96.

11 For an extensive study of this harbour see Hurst 1994, 15–51.

12 Lancel 1995, 181–2.

13 Ibid., 180.

14 Hurst & Stager 1978, 341–2.

15 Appian 8.10.68.

16 For the sanctuary at El Hofra, see Berthier & Charlier 1952–5, II.

17 Rakob 1979, 132–66. Others include the Medracen, the mausoleum of the Massylian royal dynasty, near Batna, and the funerary monument built for their Massaesylian counterparts at their capital of Siga.

18 However, it had to be heavily restored after being all but demolished during the nineteenth century by the British consul at Tunis, who was anxious to get his hands on the bilingual Libyan and Punic inscriptions (Lancel 1995, 307).

19 Ibid. 307–9.

20 Alexandropoulos 1992, 143–7; Visonà 1998, 22; Crawford 1985, 140.

21 Polybius 36.16.7–8; Appian 8.16.106.

22 Livy 43.3.5–7.

23 Leigh 2004, 28–37.

24 Arnott 1996, 284–7.

25 Franko 1996, 439–40, 442, 444. Many of the observations that follow are taken from this particular study.

26 Plautus Poen. 104–33.

27 Franko 1996, 429–30.

28 Plautus Poen. 975–81, 1008, 1121.

29 Gratwick 1971; Adams 2003, 204–5.

30 Plautus Poen. 1297–1306 (based on tr. Nixon, pp. 131–3).

31 Plautus Poen. 1312–14 (based on tr. Nixon, p. 133).

32 Franko 1996, 445.

33 Clark 2007, 96–7. For the same prejudices in Plautus’ broader canon see Leigh 2004, 23–56.

34 Errington 1971, 202–12 (quote = 210); Harris 1979, 227–33.

35 Errington 1971, 260–62.

36 Diodorus 32.4.4–5.

37 Ibid. 32.5.

38 Polybius 31.21; Livy 34.62. I agree with Lancel (1995, 411) that Polybius’ account and dating of this episode are to be favoured.

39 Polybius 31.21.7–8.

40 Livy 34.62.9–10.

41 Ibid. 34.62.11–14.

42 Lancel 1999, 178, for the ambiguity of the terms.

43 Appian 8.10.68–9.

44 For Cato’s hounding of the Scipios see Scullard 1970, 186–9, 210–24.

45 Plutarch Cat. Maj. 26.2.

46 Appian 8.10.69.

47 Livy Epitome 47.15.

48 Pliny NH 15.74–5; Thürlemann-Rappers 1974; Little 1934.

49 Plutarch Cat. Maj. 26.2–3.

50 Ibid. 27.1.

51 Baronowski 1995, 27–8; Lancel 1995, 277–8. See also the comments of Pliny (NH 15.76) on how Carthage ‘was destroyed by the testimony of one piece of fruit’.

52 Plutarch Cat. Maj. 26.2.

53 Diodorus 34/35.33.5.

54 Livy Epitome 48. For a discussion of the Scipio Nascia position see Vogel-Weidemann 1989, 83–4.

55 Polybius 36.2; Appian 8.10.69.

56 Appian 8.10.68.

57 Ibid. 8.10.70–73.

58 Baronowski 1995, 20–21; Diodorus 32.1; Livy Epitome 48; Zonaras 9.26.1–2.

59 Adcock 1946, 120.

60 Harris 1979, 54–104.

61 Plutarch Mor. 200.11.

62 Baronowski 1995, 28–9. For the attack on Carthage as related to the rise of Numidian power, and the forthcoming succession of Masinissa, see also Adcock 1946, 119; Vogel-Weidemann 1989, 85.

63 Appian 8.11.74.

64 Oratorum Romanorum Fragmenta 78–9.

65 Rhetorica ad Herennium 4.14.20; Quintilian Or. Ed. 9.3.31. See Baronowski 1995, 24–5, n. 22, for a discussion of its context.

66 See Cornell’s (1996) convincing thesis that Brunt (1971, 269–77) seriously underestimates the damage that the war inflicted in southern Italy.

67 Scheid & Svenbro 1985, 334–8; Cicero Nat. Gods 2.61. For the suspected influence of Timaeus on Cato see Astin 1978, 228–9.

68 Aulus Gellius 10.1.10.

69 Appian 8.11.76.

70 Ibid. 8.11.78–8.12.81.

71 Lancel 1995, 413.

72 Appian 8.12.81–5.

73 Ibid. 8.12.86–9.

74 Ibid. 8.13.90–93.

75 Visonà 1998, 22.

76 Lancel 1995, 156–72.

77 Mezzolani 1999, 108–16.

78 Lancel 1995, 158–9.

79 Ibid., 415–19.

80 Appian 8.13.94–8.16.110.

81 For the early career of Scipio Aemilianus see Astin 1967, 12–61.

82 Ibid., 62–9.

83 Appian 8.16.110–8.18.117.

84 Polybius 36.8.7; Livy Epitome 49; Diodorus 32.9a; Plutarch Cat. Maj. 27.6.

85 Appian 8.18.117–21.

86 Ibid. 8.18.122–3.

87 Ibid. 8.18.124–6.

88 Polybius 38.7.1–38.8.10.

89 Ibid. 38.8.13.

90 Ibid. 38.8.7, 38.8.11–12.

91 Appian 8.18.118.

92 For a succinct account of Polybius’ life see Champion 2004, 15–18.

93 Appian 8.19.132. For the Scipio quote, see Homer Iliad 6.448–9.

94 Harris 1979, 240–44, who sees it as yet another diplomatic incident largely provoked by the Roman Senate. Errington (1971, 236–40) lays much of the culpability on the inexperience and impetuosity of the new leadership of the Achaean League.

95 Eutropius 4.12.2; Diodorus 13.90; Cicero Verr. Or. 2.2.86–7, 2.4.72–83; Valerius Maximus 5.1.6.

96 Although there is no evidence of large-scale Roman appropriation of Carthaginian territory for over twenty years after the destruction of the city, it has been pointed out that an in-depth survey of the land began almost immediately: see Wightman 1980, 34–6.

97 Purcell 1995, 133.

98 The association is clearly made by later writers such as Cicero (Agr. 2.87), and Livy (26.34.9).

99 Purcell 1995, 134–5. For the half-heartedness of later Roman apologia for the fate of Carthage see ibid., 145–6.

100 Ibid., 143.

101 In many ways Cato would build on the historiographical foundations laid by Fabius Pictor. He would also follow the myth of Aeneas and the Trojan origins of the Romans (Gruen 1992, 33–4).

102 Astin 1978, 217.

103 Ibid., 227–31. Despite his legendary contempt for some aspects of Greek culture, Cato appears to have followed the model of Timaeus in this respect, although with one important difference. Whereas the Sicilian Greek had sought to place Italy and Rome within a wider central-Mediterranean context, Cato wished to highlight the centrality of Rome to Italy.

104 Astin 1978, 213–16.

105 Aulus Gellius 10.1.10.

106 Feeney 1991, 99.

107 Goldberg 1995, 52.

108 Gruen 1990, 92–106; Goldberg 1995, 32–6.

109 On the biographies and work of Naevius and Ennius see Gruen 1990, 106–22; Goldberg 1995, 114–22; Jocelyn 1972, 991–9.

110 Such is the intertwining of myth and recent events in the work of Naevius that it has been suggested that a famous section describing a battle between giants and heroes was in fact a description of a frieze on the eastern pediment of the temple of Zeus at Acragas in Sicily (Fraenkel 1954, 14–16; Feeney 1991, 118).

111 Wigodsky 1972, 29–34, for a discussion of what role Dido may have played in Naevius’ epic. The fiction of Rome as an established and venerable central-Mediterranean power was further aided by the historical conceit of transforming Romulus, the founder of Rome, into the grandson of Aeneas: see Goldberg 1995, 95–6.

112 Feeney 1991, 109–10.

113 In Ennius this is confirmed by the testimony of Servius Aen. 1.281 (Feeney 1991, 126–7), whereas in Naevius it is merely suspected (ibid., 116–17). Certainly, Rome’s increasing political and military involvement in Greece and the Hellenistic East during the late third and early decades of the second century BC had played its part, for the Roman senatorial elite sought to explain not only the extraordinary success that they had enjoyed, but also their relations with the wider Hellenic community (Gruen 1990, 121–3; Goldberg 1995, 56–7).

114 Feeney 1991, 109–10.

115 Goldberg 1995, 162, n. 5. Feeney (1991, 110 n. 58) also entertains the idea that Naevius wrote it after the end of the Second Punic War.

116 Jocelyn 1972, 997–9.

117 Ibid., 1006. Ennius, out of respect for Naevius, wrote very little about the First Punic War, even though he also appears to have been dismissive of Naevius’ literary talents (ibid., 1013–14).

118 Aulus Gellius 6.12.7 (E. Warmington 1935, 270: 98–9); Paulus 439.7 (E. Warmington 1935, 282: 104–5); Festus Rufus Avienus 324.15 (E. Warmington 1935, 237: 84–5). Later writers would recognize Ennius as being strongly partisan, particularly in downplaying the disasters that were suffered by the Romans (Cicero Pomp. 25).

119 Servius Aen. 1.20. For Naevius and prophecy see Feeney 1991, 111–13.

120 Macrobius Sat. 3.7–9.

CHAPTER 15: PUNIC FAITH

1 Appian 8.20.134; Orosius 4.23.5–7; Florus 4.12. Other sources claim that Scipio completely demolished the city (Velleius Paterculus 1.12; Eutropius 4.12; De Vir. Illustr. 58; Zonaras 9.26–30). However, archaeologists have discovered that some of Carthage was certainly still standing after the onslaught (Lancel 1995, 428–30). For Hasdrubal’s retirement see Eutropius 4.14.2; Zonaras 9.30; Orosius 4.23.7. For a general discussion of these references see Ridley 1986, 140–41.

2 Geus 1994, 150–53; Krings 1991, 665–6; Diogenes Laertius Clitomachus.

3 Appian 8.20.133. For other evidence of a form of curse being placed on the site to prevent its reoccupation see Cicero Agr. 1.2.5; Plutarch C. Gracch. 11; Appian CW 1.24; Tertullian De Pallio 1. On ploughing the ground and sowing it with salt see Modestinus, in Justinian Dig. 7.4.21; Stevens 1988, 39–40; Purcell 1995, 140–41. The surveying and reorganization of Carthage’s old territory = Wightman 1980, 34–6.

4 Appian 8.20.134.

5 Bellen 1985.

6 Polybius 6.9, 6.57; Champion 2004, 94–8. Walbank (2002, 206–8), while acknowledging the Polybian view that Rome’s decline was inevitable, in my view underplays the importance of this in Polybius’ general historical thesis. Indeed, Cato’s mention of Carthage’s mixed constitution in hisOrigines might well reflect that this was a position that he held (Servius Aen. 4.682). It was certainly a view held in Stoic philosophical circles a little later (Champion 2004, 96–7).

7 Polybius 6.51–2; Champion 2004, 117–21; Eckstein 1989.

8 Pliny NH 35.23.

9 Lintott 1972.

10 Appian CW 1.3.24; Plutarch C.Gracch. 11; Orosius 5.12; Livy Epitome 60. In 111 an agrarian law was passed that made provision for the North African public land but forbade any resettlement of the site of Carthage.

11 Appian CW 1.26.

12 Plutarch C. Gracch. 17; Clark 2007, 133–4. Unsurprisingly, this building would long remain a symbol of the fragility of Roman political cohesiveness. It was an association that a talented political operator such as Marcus Cicero knew how to use to his own advantage. When in 63 BC, as consul, he chose the temple as the venue for the trials of those who had been involved in an unsuccessful coup d’état, Cicero, clearly wishing to distance his own actions from the bloody events that had prompted the temple’s construction, was careful to emphasize that his own successful attempt to defend Roman concord had not ended in terrible bloodshed, a clear reference to Opimius’ own purge. See Clark 2007, 172–6; Cicero Cat. 3.21; Sallust Cat. 9.2. Cicero would also use the temple as a place to launch a vitriolic attack on Mark Antony and the hypocrisy of his speech on concord after the murder of Caesar (Cicero Phil. 3.31, 5.20).

13 Tertullian De Pallio 1.

14 Cicero Agr. 1.5. The cynical use of the curse story is highlighted by the fact that elsewhere Cicero actually appears to discount any threat of religious sanction (Agr. 2.51). Harrison (1984, 96–101) argues that, even if the tradition of the curse was true, its impact was very minimal in terms of subsequent Roman senatorial decisions made about Carthage. A restored Carthage a threat to Rome = Cicero Agr. 2.33.90.

15 See in particular the historian Sallust (Gaius Sallustianus), Cat. 10.1–3 and Jug. 41.2; Lintott 1972.

16 Wiedemann 1993, 54–6; Sallust Jug. 79.1. A later Christian writer, Orosius (4.23), described Carthage as the necessary whetstone on which Rome’s greatness could be kept sharp.

17 Piccaluga 1981; Freyburger 1986 for studies of fides during the Augustan period.

18 There is an extensive literature on the question of Augustan propaganda and the literary culture of the period. See Kennedy 1992; White 1991; Galinsky 1996 and more generally the essays in Woodman & West (eds.) 1984; A. Powell (ed.) 1992.

19 Clark 2007, 59. Atilius also vowed a temple to Spes (Hope).

20 Champion 2004, 163–6, 196–contra Walbank (1985, 168–73), who sees the ordering of the opinions as evidence of Polybius’ pro-Roman stance on this matter.

21 Polybius 36.9.9–11.

22 Livy Epitome 18; Eutropius 2.25; Florus 1.18.23–6; Orosius 4.10.1; Dio 11.26; Zonaras 8.15. A major pointer to the later invention of the tale is that it is not mentioned by Polybius.

23 Diodorus 24.12; Clark 2007, 61–2.

24 The story first appears in the work of the Roman historian Sempronius Tuditanus, who wrote in the last decades of the second century BC.

25 Horace Ode 3.5.41–52. For another hostile reference to the Punic threat and the challenge that it presented to traditional Roman virtue see Ovid Fasti 6.241–6.

26 Livy, who started writing his great history of Rome from its foundation to his own times in around 29 BC, was certainly not a slavish admirer of Augustus. However, he did recognize that the self-proclaimed restorer of the Roman Republic probably constituted Rome’s best chance of lifting itself out of the morass into which it had fallen. On Livy’s complex attitudes towards Augustus see Mineo 2006, 112–17, 134–5.

27 G. Miles 1995, 76–94.

28 Ibid., 78–9.

29 Mineo 2006, 293–335, 102–11. In fact Livy traced this decline back to Marcellus flooding Rome with the riches looted from Syracuse in 212.

30 The battle for universal hegemony = Livy 29.17.6.

31 Ibid. 21.4.9.

32 Ibid. 22.6.11–12.

33 Ibid. 30.30.27. The actual expression fides Punica occurs for the first time in surviving Latin literature in Sallust Jug. 108.3. However, as we have seen, Punic faithlessness was a very old trope that is found in both Greek and early Latin literature.

34 Livy 21.6.3–4, 21.19; Mineo 2006, 275.

35 Levene 1993, 43–7. For an example of Hannibal’s temporary piety see Livy 21.21.9. For the impiety of Hannibal’s attack on Saguntum see ibid. 21.40.11. Carthage’s final defeat as divine retribution = ibid. 30.31.5, 30.42.20–21.

36 Cornelius Nepos Hann. 3.4.

37 Gransden 1976, 16. It was also surely no coincidence that in 29 BC Augustus should choose as his consular colleague Potitus Valerius Messalla, supposedly an ancestor of Potitius, chief priest of the Ara Maxima, and mentioned by Vergil in his rendering of the Cacus episode (Aen. 8.269, 281). See Galinsky 1966, 22, for the argument that the reference in the Aeneid to a saviour arriving in Rome may have referred equally to Hercules or to Augustus. For a discussion of the use that Vergil later makes of the Hercules and Cacus incident to display the monstrosity of civil war see Morgan 1998, 175–85; Lyne 1987, 28–35.

38 Pliny NH 3.136–7.

39 Knapp 1986, 121–2.

40 Horace Ode 4.4. Part of this association was also clearly mediated through the young Augustus’ close connection with Alexander the Great. As well as the clear borrowings from the Alexandrian iconography–especially in the earlier Augustan portraiture–it was said that such was his fascination with the Macedonian king that he had the corpse of Alexander embalmed and had his portrait on his signet ring (Suetonius Aug. 18.1.50; Zanker 1988, 145).

41 Horace Ode 4.4.

42 Appian 8.20.136.

43 Carthaginians = Harrison 1984, 99. Veterans = Wightman 1980, 36. For Caesarian clemency see Clark 2007, 84–5. A temple to Clementia Caesaris had been built in Rome in 45 BC (Galinsky 1996, 82, 84).

44 Wightman (1980, 37–8) probably overstates the case for the progress made in terms of the Caesarian colony.

45 Certainly this was how some later Roman commentators perceived this initiative: see Dio 43.50.4–5.

46 Wightman 1980, 38–9.

47 Gros 1990.

48 Rakob 2000.

49 Hadrumetum in Africa was named ‘Concordia Iulia’, and Apamea in Bithynia ‘Colonia Iulia Concordia’ (Clark 2007, 251).

50 Although the late-antique literary commentator Servius would write that ‘the intention of Vergil is to imitate Homer and praise Augustus through his ancestors’ (Servius Aen. 1, proem), Vergil’s relationship with the regime that he wrote under was clearly more complex than that. For a critique of viewing Vergil as an Augustan propagandist see Thomas 2001, 25–54.

51 Morgan 1998, 181–2.

52 Vergil Aen. 1.12–19.

53 Feeney 1991, 131. The Punic wars are heavily alluded to but rarely directly mentioned in the Aeneid. One important exception is the procession of future Roman heroes which is pointed out to Aeneas in the underworld, which includes Cato, the Scipios, Fabius Cunctator and Marcellus (Vergil Aen. 6.841–859).

54 Vergil Aen. 4.96–9.

55 Ibid. 4.259–63.

56 Ibid. 4.230–36. Teucer, a legendary archer, fought alongside his more famous half-brother Ajax in the Trojan War. Ascanius, the son of Aeneas, was the first king of Alba Longa, the forerunner of Rome. Ausonia was a region of southern Italy

57 Ibid. 4.622–9.

58 Ibid. 12.826–8; Feeney 1991, 146–9.

59 Vergil Aen. 1.421–9.

60 Feeney 1991, 101–2; Harrison 1984, 96, for the dangers of seeing this piece as an accurate description of the Augustan settlement.

61 Vergil Aen. 4.305–10.

62 Starks 1999, 274–6.

63 Ibid. 267–71.

64 KAI 120; Adams 2003, 222; Birley 1988, 9–10. The same process can also be seen on the coinage that these cities produced during this period (Adams 2003, 207–9). For the same process in the Numidian city of Thugga see Rives 1995.

65 For the strong Punic influence on the region around Gades in the first and second centuries AD see Fear 1996, 225–50. On Sardinia see Van Dommelen 1998, 174–7. Africa = Millar 1968.

66 On Punic language see Jongeling & Kerr, 2005; Adams 2003, 209–30. On the suffetes see Lancel 1995, 430–31; Van Dommelen 1998, 174; Birley 1988, 16. Religious continuities = Lancel 1995, 432–6.

67 Van Dommelen 1998. It has even been recently argued that Pomponius Mela, the author of De Chorographia, a geographical work written in the first half of the first century BC, may have been of Hispano-Punic descent, and that his work was aimed at a population that was still heavily imbued with Punic culture, being designed as a reaction against the prevailing Romano-Greek mapping of the world (Batty 2000).

68 On the rise of Leptis Magna see Birley 1988, 8–22.

69 Silius Italicus Pun. 2.149–270, 4.4.72, 11.136ff., 2.475, 9.287–301; Rawlings 2005, 153–5.

70 Statius Silv. 4.6. See also Martial Epigr. 9.43 for similar speculations about Hannibal and the statuette.

71 Statius Silv. 4.5.45–6.

72 Birley 1988, 89–107.

73 Tzetzes Chil. 1.798–805; Birley 1988, 142.

74 R. Miles 2003.

75 ‘Hannibalianus 2’, in Jones, Martindale & Morris 1971, 407.

If you find an error please notify us in the comments. Thank you!