Pax Romana

by Adrian Goldsworthy

  IV

  TRADERS AND SETTLERS

  ‘Poor men of humble birth sail across the seas to shores they have never seen before, where they find themselves among strangers, and cannot always have with them acquaintances to vouch for them. Yet such trust have they in the single fact of their citizenship, that they count on being safe, not only where they find our magistrates . . . and not only among their own countrymen . . . : no, wherever they find themselves, they are confident that this one fact will be their defence . . . to cry “I am a Roman citizen” . . .’ – Cicero, 70 BC.1

  CIVIS ROMANUS SUM – ROMANS ABROAD

  The campaigns in Gaul made Julius Caesar immensely wealthy and gave him glory on a grand scale. His victories were dazzling, skilfully advertised and resulted in the proclamation of unprecedented numbers of days of public thanksgiving at Rome. By the middle of the first century BC, the careers of men like Marius, Sulla, Pompey and Caesar were making it ever harder to achieve something more spectacular than the victories of the past. Yet the Romans were always especially excited by the news that their legions had marched into new territories and that previously unknown peoples and rulers had submitted to them. Caesar and nostri – ‘our men’, as he described his legionaries – had reached the far north-west coast of Gaul, twice bridged the Rhine to attack the homelands of the Germanic tribes and, most dramatic of all, in 55 and 54 BC landed on the mysterious island of Britain. It did not matter that the expeditions achieved little, that he narrowly avoided disaster, or that he left no garrison behind. Even men who did not care much for Caesar thrilled at the thought of a Roman army crossing the great ocean encircling the three known continents.2

  Generals won fame by being the first to overrun a region, but in truth they were rarely the first Romans to reach an area, and almost always the trader preceded the soldier. Julius Caesar found merchants or mercatores in many of the oppida of Gaul, such as the men whose stories fed the panic in his army at Vesontio. One of the two envoys he sent to Ariovistus was a certain Marcus Mettius, chosen because in the past the man had received the hospitality of the German leader. While he may well have been involved in the diplomatic exchanges which led to the king’s formal recognition by Rome in 59 BC, Mettius was almost certainly a trader doing business in the area, who had arrived months or probably years earlier.3

  As we have seen, huge quantities of Italian wine were being sent north into Gaul, and the profits of this trade intensified rivalries in the tribal aristocracies and the great contest for power between the Aedui and Sequani. Roman merchants went at least some of the way with their goods, and it is hard to tell when and how often local middlemen took over. Caesar says that merchants went ‘least often’ to the lands of the Belgic tribes, and were banned from the territory of one of these peoples, the Nervii. The Germanic tribes on the other side of the Rhine were said to let traders come to them, but were keener to sell the spoils of their raiding than to buy anything. Caesar notes that they had no interest in the big draught horses bred in Gaul, in spite of their obvious superiority to their own small animals. We need to be a little cautious about some of this, for he expressly says that luxuries from the Mediterranean world corrupted a society, invoking a well-established tradition of the purity of simple cultures – a variation on the enduring image of the noble savage. In this case this was not for any sentimental reason. The Belgic and Germanic tribes were less effeminate and so far more dangerous enemies than other peoples in Gaul, which justified Caesar’s interventions in these regions and his uncompromising attitude to them.4

  Caesar does not specify the nationality of the traders who reached – or tried to reach – these tribes, although he does single out imported wine as a corrupting influence. Before his first expedition to Britain he sought information about the island from traders, who were the only people to go there without a very good cause. Merchants were summoned to his camp, but the Roman commander learned very little from them. It does look as if much of the trade with Britain was controlled by the Veneti, a tribe living in the area of modern Brittany, who sailed to trading ports like the one at Hengistbury Head in Dorset. They were famous sailors, but in 56 BC Caesar shattered the tribe, executing many of its leaders and capturing their fleet in a naval battle. Survivors were doubtless unwilling to volunteer information to their conquerors, and the merchants told Caesar only a little about the coastal areas of the south-east, nearest to Gaul. It is possible that some of these men were Roman and carried on small-scale trade with the peoples of that area. Whoever the men were, some of them told the Britons of his plans. Since this prompted several leaders to send envoys promising to provide hostages and submit to the imperium of the Roman people, Caesar may well have wanted the news to reach the island, hoping as usual to secure allies before he arrived there.5

  It is probable that there were Romans doing business in the far north of Gaul, and a few crossing to Britain, even if the Veneti dominated trade across the Channel until their catastrophic defeat at the hands of Caesar. In the years that followed there was a clear shift in trade so that most goods from the Continent went to the south-east of Britain, and sites further to the west, such as the trading post at Hengistbury Head, went into rapid decline. Another consequence of Caesar’s campaigns in Gaul was the opening-up of the trade routes to Britain to many more Roman merchants. The quantity of goods shipped there significantly increased, and it also looks as if this produced power struggles among local leaders and kingdoms very similar to those between the Aedui and Sequani.6

  Caesar was an avid collector of objets d’art, and some said that he went to Britain in the belief that he would find a rich source of high-quality pearls. If the story is true, then it was merely an additional attraction to the glory of carrying Roman arms to such an exotic place, and his hope was disappointed. Cicero commented that the profits to be made from Britain were far less than expected – ‘not a scrap of silver in the Island, nor hope of plunder except slaves, but I doubt we’ll find any scribes or musicians amongst them’ – and although he was talking mainly about the plunder from the expeditions it is likely that he was also thinking of longer-term prospects for trade had the island proved rich in anything worth having. In the second century BC the famous general Scipio Aemilianus – the man who destroyed Carthage and took Numantia – questioned merchants in Transalpine Gaul about the routes to Britain. They told him very little, which is probably once again a reflection of how far this traffic was monopolised by the tribes of Gaul’s Atlantic coast. Thus some Roman governors showed an interest in trade with lands beyond the provinces, but there is no evidence that this was ever a primary concern in decisions to expand into new territory. Rome does not seem to have fought wars to open up new markets to Roman businessmen, even if this was usually a consequence of the Republic’s expansion.7

  It was as individuals in the hope of profit and not as representatives of state interests that some Romans travelled far outside the provinces of the Republic. Around the middle of the second century BC rich and readily accessible gold deposits were discovered by the Taurisci, a people living in Noricum – the region centred around the modern Tyrol in Austria. Large numbers of Italians, presumably including many Romans, flocked to the area to work alongside the locals. As far as we can tell they did not bring expertise, only an enthusiastic willingness to work in an effort to become rich, making them more like the ‘Forty-niners’ than technical supervisors. Polybius says that in just two months the price of gold in Italy plummeted by a third as the market was flooded. This prompted the Taurisci to expel the Italians and work the deposits on their own – whether to control the sheer quantities being extracted or simply to keep the profit to themselves is unclear.8

  The expulsion was not seen as a hostile act, and there are signs that plenty of Romans and Italians continued to go to Noricum to do business. Diplomatic relations were good. In 113 BC the king of Noricum was clearly an ally, enjoying ties of hospitality with Rome, prompting a governor to lead a Roman army to aid him ag
ainst the migrating Cimbri – unsuccessfully as it turned out. The tombstone of a man with the curious name of Pompaius Senator was found in the East Tyrol and has been dated to around 100 BC. The probability is that he was there on business.

  Excavations revealed an entire Roman trading settlement outside the Norican hilltop town at the Magdalensberg. Established early in the first century BC, this covered an area some 330 feet by 179 (114 by 55 metres), with shops and houses around a central courtyard. The first buildings were of timber, but later they were rebuilt in stone with cellars for storing merchandise. By the second half of the first century some had plastered walls decorated with good-quality wall paintings showing images of gods, goddesses and figures from myth. The Magdalensberg was probably the seat of the king of Noricum, and the Romans brought in wine and oil in amphorae, functional items such as tools and pots, as well as decorated lamps and expensive black pottery from Etruria. In return the Romans traded for local produce, most of all iron, which was mined and smelted in great quantities there. This trading post gives an indication of the sort of communities set up beyond the provinces, for the area did not come under Roman rule until the end of the century.9

  There were Roman traders dotted around the world, some as individuals and others congregating in communities, but it is impossible to gauge their numbers. What is certain is that they were never the only merchants at work, for there were always local men, and rarely would the Romans have been the only foreigners. Long-distance trade did not begin with the Romans, but had developed during the Bronze Age and in a few cases even earlier. Massilia (modern Marseilles) was founded by Greeks from Asia Minor in the sixth century BC and soon developed extensive trade links with the tribes on its borders. Although far more successful than most, this was simply one colony among many in a long process that saw Greek settlement all around the shores of the Mediterranean and Black Sea. Some of the colonies were small and primarily farming communities, but most engaged in trade to a greater or lesser extent.10

  The Phoenicians were the great sailors of the ancient world, and early in the last millennium BC their ships often visited Spain – the Tarshish of the Old Testament – and even went to south-west Britain for tin, which was highly prized because it permitted the making of bronze. Phoenician colonies were established in Spain and North Africa, one of the latter being Carthage, founded perhaps in the eighth century BC. Over time the city outgrew its origins and became an empire and coloniser in its own right. In 509 BC the new Roman Republic signed a treaty with Carthage, which included clauses restricting the Romans and their allies from trading – or raiding, since the two were often linked – beyond Cap Bon in North Africa. Any ships blown off-course beyond this promontory were forbidden to buy anything save what was needed ‘for the repair of his ship or for sacrifice, and must depart within five days’. Roman merchants were permitted to go to other areas, but were only to conduct business in the presence of a local official.11

  Later treaties restricted the Romans and their allies from other specific territories, clearly assuming that otherwise merchants would try their luck there. Some markets and sources of material were jealously guarded, and for a long time only the Carthaginians knew how to reach the north-west coast of Spain, a region rich in mineral resources. On one occasion a ship from the Punic colony of Gades (modern Cadiz) was followed by Roman vessels eager to discover the route. The Carthaginian captain lured them onto a shoal by deliberately running his own ship aground. Escaping on a piece of wreckage, he was rewarded by his city with money equivalent to his losses on the voyage. It looks as if the sailors of Gades kept the secret for some time after they became part of the Roman province, and it was only in the early first century BC that a governor secured all merchants access to the mines in the north-west.12

  For all the restrictions the treaties placed upon Roman traders, in areas such as Sicily these traded on the same footing as their Carthaginian counterparts. Until the First Punic War, relations were good between the two city-states. A community of Carthaginian merchants was well established at Rome itself, and although most left when war broke out, others returned at the end of each conflict. It is possible that some Romans were established in Carthage and any of the other communities where they were permitted. Numbers may well have been small, and for a long time the sheer scale of Punic trading dwarfed the operations of Roman and Italian merchants. Carthaginian trade was based on the highly organised cultivation of well-irrigated estates in North Africa. The agriculture of Roman Italy was less sophisticated and produced a far smaller surplus for export. Yet Rome continued to grow, so that its population outstripped that of any other state. As time went on, there were simply more and more Romans looking to make money overseas. As the Republic acquired provinces, such men found fresh markets.13

  MARKETS AND EXCHANGE

  Amphorae break, but the fragments are virtually indestructible, and both easy to recognise and very visible in the archaeological record. An ancient shipwreck is more likely to be found if the vessel had a hold full of such large pottery containers. This makes it much easier to find evidence for the traffic in any products carried in amphorae – hence the ease with which we can confirm the shipment of so much Roman wine into Gaul in the first century BC. Other goods – whether slaves, livestock or animal products, clothing and material, minerals or anything else worth transporting – are by their nature almost invisible archaeologically. Literary mentions of such things tend to be vague and of little use in judging the scale of this activity. Thus it is clear that so much Italian wine went into Gaul, but far less clear what went back the other way.

  It was said that Gallic leaders were willing to exchange a slave for an amphora of fine wine, although some scholars prefer to see this as the Romans misunderstanding the social obligation on a host to surpass in value any gift presented by a guest. If the estimate of at least 40,000,000 amphorae going into Gaul is remotely correct, then sheer numbers make it impossible that more than a tiny fraction were exchanged in this way, exploiting the cultural obligation of hospitality. We should also remember that Dumnorix of the Aedui based his position on controlling tolls levied on cargo going up the River Rhône. Both the quantity and the profits going to intermediaries indicate commercial transactions rather than exchange of gifts. Most tribes in Gaul – and those in southern Britain – minted coins matching first Greek and then later Roman standards of silver and bronze, so some of this wine may well have changed hands for money as well as goods the merchants wanted to take back with them.14

  We simply cannot trace much of the trading activity or the commodities sent in either direction, still less understand the scale of such activity. Ornate tableware from the Mediterranean, whether ceramic or more often in silver or other precious metals, is similarly prominent archaeologically in Iron Age Europe, for in the main it was only the rich and powerful who enjoyed items from so far afield. Such things may turn up as grave goods or ritual deposits and are spectacular, but it is harder to say how they reached these places. Some came to tribal rulers as diplomatic gifts. In 169 BC envoys came over the Alps to Rome from a Gallic king or chieftain – Livy, who tells us the story, notes that a century and a half later there was no longer any record of the man’s tribe. His name was Balanos, and he offered to help Rome in their current war with Macedonia. A grateful Senate sent in return gifts of ‘a golden torque two pounds in weight, a golden bowl weighing four pounds, a horse with decorated tack and a cavalryman’s weapons’. We do not know whether Balanos did subsequently aid the Romans’ war effort.15

  Prestigious gifts were a routine part of diplomatic exchanges. In some cases objects presented by Roman envoys may well later have been given by the recipient to cement alliances with other leaders and other tribes, and so travelled further and further away. Others might change hands through warfare as valuable spoils, and indeed in some cases first left the Mediterranean world as loot from raiding. Similar gifts could equally have come from merchants eager to win favour from local rulers
in an area where they hoped to operate. Some may even have travelled as goods for trade rather than gifts, but in each of these cases the discovery of the artefacts themselves in an Iron Age context is unlikely to make clear how they arrived.

  Diplomatic gifts explain the presence of some precious objects from the Greco-Roman world in lands far from Rome’s provinces, but do not alter a picture of large-scale long-distance trade continuing and growing in the last centuries BC. This is reinforced by the frequent and usually incidental mention of Roman and Italian merchants in many areas. In 229 BC ship owners complained to the Senate about the predatory attacks of pirates loyal to the Illyrian Queen Teuta. The merchants were primarily from southern Italy, whose Greek communities had long-established commercial and cultural links with the wider Greek world. This was not the first time they had complained of this ongoing piracy, but matters came to a head when a number of ships were plundered as they lay at anchor in a city stormed by the Illyrians. Some of the traders were killed and others taken prisoner. In 70 BC the orator Cicero claimed that on many occasions ‘our ancestors . . . fought great wars . . . because Roman citizens were said to be insulted, her merchant sailors imprisoned, her traders robbed’. No clear examples apart from the Illyrian war appear in our sources, and even this was a little more complicated. Yet in the same speech he also claims that outside the empire, a poor man who raised the cry ‘I am a Roman citizen!’ (civis Romanus sum) would not be harmed even by barbarians. So great was the fear of Rome’s power.16