This new edition is the perfect gift for the history-lover and fan of Ancient Rome on your list!
It features a beautiful dust jacket with a Gorgon head and acanthus borders on an ancient, Roman plaster background. Underneath the jacket, the hardcover case features a stunning, red fresco from the ruins of Pompeii, giving the book an added feel of antiquity for the holidays.
If you’re looking for a wonderful book for the history lover your life, this is it!
The Saturnalia, Special Edition Hardcover (as well as the ebook, audiobook, and paperback editions) is available from all major bookstore chains, independent shops, and all major on-line stores. Get the ISBN# for the edition of your choice by CLICKING HERE.
Order yours now so that you get it in time for the holidays!
Step into the world of Saturnalia for a Roman Holiday you will never forget!
*PLEASE NOTE:if you are shopping on Amazon, the cover images for the new Special Edition Hardcover are not showing. However, if you order the hardcover, the images above show you what it is like. It’s absolutely beautiful!
If you missed the first post on drama and theatres in ancient Athens, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.
In Part II, we’re going to be taking a brief look at travel and transportation in the Roman Empire. As we shall see, this is something the Romans did really well!
We hope you enjoy!
Map of the Roman Empire at its greatest extent (Oxford Research Encyclopedias)
The Etrurian Players – the tumultuous theatre troupe of our story – regularly travel the Mediterranean Sea to get to the location of their next performance, be it in the cities of Iberia, the great polis of Alexandria or, as is the case in this story, the city of Athens where theatre was born.
But how easy is it for The Etrurian Players to get from one place to another while on tour? How did ancient Romans, and Etrurians for that matter, get about?
Travel is something that we take for granted today. We decide we need to get somewhere, and we just go, be it nearby, or over a great distance across oceans and continents. We often take it for granted in fiction too. Characters often need to get from point A to point B, and it happens.
But in the ancient world, travel wasn’t so easy. It required planning, and it took time.
There were also many factors involved such as destination, budget (not unlike today), mode of transportation, and time of year. Unless one was a soldier, or merchant, or someone wealthy, chances are that you might never have left your community or indeed your Etrurian latifundium!
So, when people did travel in the Roman Empire, how and why did they do so?
Ptolemy’s world map, reconstituted from Ptolemy’s Geography, circa AD 150, in the 15th century, indicating Sinae, China, at the extreme right. (Wikimedia Commons)
First off, we should probably discuss maps. We use maps today, and the Romans had maps. Geography was important, especially if you were planning a large scale invasion or military campaign, or even surveying for a new settlement. Not many maps from the Roman period survive, but copies of maps were made from originals. Sometimes they were even rendered in paintings or mosaics.
Maps, geography and cartography are mentioned by some ancient authors such as Strabo, Polybius, Pliny the Elder, and Ptolemy. We also know that large wall maps of the world were commissioned by Julius Caesar, and then by Agrippa, during the reign of Augustus.
Much of our knowledge of place names and geography from the Roman world comes from what are called ittinerarium pictum which were travel itineraries accompanied by paintings. Perhaps the most well-known of these is Ptolemy’s Geography which included six books of place names with coordinates from around the empire, including faraway places such as Ireland and Africa.
Another source is the Ravenna Cosmography. This was a compilation of documents by a cleric at Ravenna around 700 C.E. This particular source gives lists of stations, river names and some topographical details as far away as India.
Details of a map based on the 11th century Ravenna Cosmography (Wikimedia Commons)
The Notitia Dignitatum is a late Roman collection of administrative information which included lists of civilian and military office holders, military units and forts. The maps that accompanied this were medieval, but it is believed that they were derived from Roman originals of the fourth and fifth centuries C.E.
Perhaps the most important surviving example of an itinerary, however, is the Itinerarium Antoninianum, the ‘Antonine Itinerary’, which was a collection of journeys compiled over seventy-five years or more and assembled in the late 3rd century. It describes 225 routes and gives the distances between places that are mentioned. Some believe it was probably used for travel by emperors or troops. This particular source also included a maritime section with sea routes entitled Imperatoris Antonini Augusti itinerarium maritimum. The longest route in this itinerary appears to represent Emperor Caracalla’s trip from Rome to Egypt in about 214-215 C.E, about ten years after An Altar of Indignities takes place.
Map of Roman Britain based on the Antonine Itinerary, plotted by William Stukeley in the 1700s using the Itinerary as its source. (University of Kent)
Next, one cannot discuss travel in the Roman Empire without talking about roads.
There is a reason the expression ‘All roads lead to Rome’ exists. It was true, at least for a time. This is believed to have originally referred to the milliarium aureum, the ‘golden milestone’ near the temple of Saturn in the Forum Romanum, from which all distances were measured. It is believed that distances to specific cities or settlements were written upon it.
Part of the Via Egnatia near Kavala, Greece
When it comes to roads, Rome was the best. In fact, Roman roads forever altered the empire and travel itself. Not only did Roman roads make troop movements much easier – with the troops building the roads themselves! – but they also opened up parts of the empire to trade and further settlement. They spread out from Rome like a titanic spider web connecting the eternal city to the farthest outposts.
There were also various types of road too, not just the broad, paved roads upon which vehicles and legions could travel. There were also small tracks, causeways, narrow streets, embanked roads or strata, lanes and more. Whether you were crossing the world, or crossing a settlement, roads of all types were useful.
The Roman empire in the time of Hadrian, showing the network of main Roman roads. (Wikimedia Commons)
Of course, with Roman roads, came Roman bridges over rivers that might have added days to a journey in order to reach a suitable crossing point. Travel was shortened in many ways by using Roman roads.
Now that we know how important roads were to the Roman Empire, how did people travel upon them?
When it came to the legions, marching was the order of the day for most troopers, and the average Roman soldier, fully laden, could travel up to 25 Roman miles in one day. For the average person living within the bounds of the empire, walking was also the norm. This mode of travel was slower, to be sure, though roads made it much easier.
Apart from walking, there were of course other, faster modes of transportation such as by horse, pack animal, two-wheeled cart, and four-wheeled wagon. Obviously, these required one to have the funds to own or rent such animals and vehicles, but they did greatly cut back on the travel time.
A Roman relief showing a four-wheeled, covered wagon (photo – Penn Museum)
The time of year and the weather were obvious factors when it came to travel upon roads, but also when it came to water routes open to travellers such as by river, open sea, and coastal sea travel.
When it comes to seafaring, the Romans had no such tradition until after the wars with Carthage which forced them to come to terms with the need for a navy. With the creation of that navy, Roman troops could be moved more quickly from Rome to Africa, for instance.
The other reason for travelling by sea or waterway was, perhaps more importantly, trade. The Roman Empire at its peak was vast and varied, and there was an enormous trade network that ensured raw materials such as lead and marble made it to construction sites as far away as Britannia, or from there to Rome itself. Perhaps the officers on Hadrian’s wall missed their favourite garum produced in Hispania, or wine from their family’s Etrurian estate?
A Roman cargo ship, or ‘corbita’ (image: naval-encyclopedia.com)
To transport large amounts of goods where they needed to be at the farthest reaches of the empire, or to the heart of Rome, sea transport was the way to go, and massive ports such as those at Ostia, Carthage, Alexandria, and Piraeus were constantly alive with trade.
There were various types of ships, both commercial and military, but despite the efficiency of this mode of transport, it was even more restricted by the seasons and weather than travel over land. Sea travel could be absolutely treacherous, and the number of ancient shipwrecks that dot the coasts of the former Roman Empire are a testament to this.
The wreck of a 110-foot (35-meter) Roman ship, along with its cargo of 6,000 amphorae, discovered at a depth of around 60m (197 feet) off the coast of Kefalonia. (Photo: CNN)
As mentioned before, we often take travel for granted in the modern world, but it cannot be overstated how important travel was in the Roman Empire, nor how much Roman road and ship building opened up the world and the economy of Europe at the time. Yet another thing the Romans did for us!
Modern aerial view of the three harbours of the port of Piraeus, the port of Athens
We hope you’ve enjoyed this brief post about travel and transportation in the Roman Empire.
If you’re interested in taking a look, one particular tool that was especially useful when researching and writing An Altar of Indignities was Orbis: The Stanford Geospatial Network Model of the Roman World. This special GIS tool uses ancient and modern source information to accurately create itineraries for travel between destinations in the Roman Empire, taking into account mode of transport, time of year, and whether travelling by land or sea. You can check that out HERE.
Stay tuned for Part III in The World of An Altar of Indignities in which we will be taking a look at the Roman monuments of ancient Athens.
Thank you for reading.
There are more posts coming in The World of An Altar or Indignities, so make sure that you are subscribed to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing Newsletter so that you don’t miss any of them. When you subscribe you get the first prequel book in our #1 best-selling Eagles and Dragons series for FREE!
In celebration of drama in the ancient world, be sure to check out our ‘Ancient Theatre’ Collection in the Eagles and Dragons Publishing AGORA on Etsy which features a range of ancient theatre-themed clothing, glassware and more! CLICK HERE to browse.
We know that many of you are fans of these blog series connected with each of our book releases and we hope that you enjoy this one as much as those that have gone before.
In this newest series, we’ll be publishing a new article every two weeks or so on a wide range of relevant topics such as theatre, ancient Athens, festivals, religion, playwrights, customs and more.
And now, without further ado, let’s step into The World of An Altar of Indignities!
The Theatre of Epidaurus
In this first post, we’re going to be taking a brief look at drama and theatres in ancient Athens.
But this book is set during the Roman era, isn’t it? you might ask.
That is true, but the Romans were the inheritors and adopters of Greek theatrical traditions and, as the book is set in Roman Athens, we thought it would be good to start with a look at the birth of drama in ancient Greece.
Tragedy is an imitation of an action that is serious, complete, and of a certain magnitude…through pity and fear effecting the proper purgation of these emotions.
(Aristotle, Poetics)
In the West, we owe a great deal to the ancient Greeks, particularly the Athenians. Out of ancient Greece came epic poetry, and lyric poetry sung to music. There was elegiac poetry that expressed personal sentiments of love, lamentation, and military exhortations. Epigrams memorialized the dead in inscriptions across the Greek world. Iambic poetry relayed often satyrical ideas as close to natural speech as possible, and bucolic poetry in hexameter told stories of the lives of ordinary country people rather than of heroes.
There is much more to it, but you get the idea. Basically, all of our western literary traditions came out of Ancient Greece.
Not least among these genres was drama.
Relief of Maenads in ritualistic, frenzied dance honouring Dionysus.
The first thing we should look at is how the artform of ‘Drama’ came about as a form of entertainment.
Similar to gladiatorial combat in Ancient Rome, which began as a religious ritual for the dead, drama in Ancient Greece was born out of religious practices, in particular, rituals honouring the god, Dionysus.
Early worship to Dionysus involved a darker side with ecstatic worship by female followers – the maenads of mythology – who were said to partake in frenzied dances and tear into animal, and sometimes human, flesh. In the sixth century B.C.E the worship of Dionysus involved obscene play, extreme emotion, singing, and dancing.
This was the genesis of Greek drama.
It was the tyrant Peisistratos (c. 600-527 B.C.E) who founded the city Dionysia of Athens, the great festival in honour of Dionysus, which involved a chorus of men singing and dancing for the god. Later, there were also rural Dionysia about Attica, with similar rituals. These early choruses could be as large as fifty people, but most were believed to consist of twelve to fifteen members.
In the sixth century (c. 535 B.C.E), when a man named Thespis added himself to the ritual to deliver a prologue and interact with the Dionysian chorus, he is said to have become the very first actor, or ‘thespian’.
The addition of this one person to interact with the chorus is thought to be the beginning of true drama, the transition from religious ritual to dramatic performance for an audience.
Later, the playwright Aeschylus added a second actor and, after him, Sophocles added a third, and this became the standard number of actors for a while, in addition to the members of the chorus.
Roman bronze from Herculaneum thought to represent Thespis, the first actor.
In early drama, Greek comedies and tragedies were, more or less, musical productions. This was due to drama’s origins in dance and song for Dionysus. The members of the chorus played groups of people like the citizens of a city, dancing and singing.
These new dramas or plays, until the Hellenistic age, were performed in competitions as part of religious festivals like the Dionysia, the Lenaea (a winter festival to Dionysus), and the Panathenaea (to Athena Parthenos) at Athens. These theatre festivals were organized by the state.
For festivals, usually three poets were selected to have their work performed, and they were assigned an actor, or actors. The playwrights who participated wrote either tragedy or comedy, but not both. They usually submitted three tragedies on different themes and a satyr play, a short comedic piece (ex. Euripides’ Cyclops).
The winner of these competitions received a wreath. From about 499 B.C.E, the best actor also received a prize. All actors, even those playing female roles, were men. Oftentimes, the poets also acted in their own plays.
At Athens, when the Dionysia was in its infancy, the admission to watch the dramas was, apparently, about two obols. However, when Pericles was leading the way through Athens’ Golden Age, the state began to pay for admission to the theatre. In addition to male citizens, this sometimes also included non-citizens, or metics, as well as women and children who were, of course, accompanied by well-respected male citizens.
But before we get into the role that theatre played in Greek society, let’s first take a look at the types of drama that were performed, mainly Tragedy and Comedy.
It should be said at this point that, unfortunately, very little ancient drama has survived the centuries, and when it comes to tragedy, only Attic tragedies have survived.
Tragic dramas or plays from Ancient Greece seem to have originated in the mid-sixth century B.C.E in Attica or the Peloponnese, and the earliest surviving one we have is Aeschylus’ Persians (c. 472. B.C.E).
Ah! Miserable Fate! Black Fortune!
Black, unbearable, unexpected disaster!
A savage single-minded Fate has ravished the Persian race!
What troubles are still in store for me?
All strength has abandoned my body… my limbs… there is none left to face these elders.
Ah, Zeus! Why has this evil Fate not buried me, as well, send me to the underworld, among all my men?
(Aeschylus, Persians)
Tragedies were the first dramas and they were almost all based on mythological tales of gods, goddesses and heroes. They also had a standard format that comprised a prologos, sometimes presented by the chorus, and sometimes by an actor. Then there was a monologue or introduction. There was a parados, which was a song sung by the chorus as it entered. After that, there were various epeisodia, scenes with actors and the chorus, and during these epeisodia, stasima (songs) were performed. The play usually closed out with the exodos, the final scene or ‘exit’.
So, the first dramatic performances were tragedies and the genre gave rise to some of the most famous playwrights of the ancient world, including Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. However, tragedy began to decline by the end of the fourth century B.C.E in favour of comedy.
Melpomene – The Muse of Tragedy
The word comedy is derived from the Greek komoidia which comes from komos, a procession of singing and dancing revellers.
It is believed that comedy dates to the sixth century B.C.E and that it may have its roots in Sicilian or Megarian drama.
As with the tragedies, only Attic comedies survive to this day, and the earliest surviving one we have is Aristophanes’ Acharnians (c. 425 B.C.E). There were earlier comic poets such as Cratinus, Crates, Pherecrates, Eupolis and Plato (different to the famous philosopher), but none of their works survive.
Oh! by Bacchus! what a bouquet! It has the aroma of nectar and ambrosia; this does not say to us, “Provision yourselves for three days.” But it lisps the gentle numbers, “Go whither you will.” I accept it, ratify it, drink it at one draught and consign the Acharnians to limbo. Freed from the war and its ills, I shall keep the Dionysia in the country.
(Aristophanes, Acharnians)
Ancient Greek comedy can be separated into three different types: Old Comedy, Middle Comedy, and New Comedy.
Comedies were humorous and uninhibited with many jokes about sex and excretions. They ridiculed and parodied contemporary characters, and an excellent example of this is Aristophanes’ ridiculing of Socrates in Clouds:
A bold rascal, a fine speaker, impudent, shameless, a braggart, and adept at stringing lies, and an old stager at quibbles, a complete table of laws, a thorough rattle, a fox to slip through any hole, supple as a leather strap, slippery as an eel, an artful fellow, a blusterer, a villain, a knave with one hundred faces, cunning, intolerable, a gluttonous dog.
(Aristophanes, Clouds)
Comedies also made fun of contemporary issues as well as gods, myths, and even religious ceremonies, making it a sort of acceptable outlet for mocking things that were otherwise sacred. This was a form of ‘free speech’ at work in the new Democracy of Athens.
All performances were staged during the city Dionysia and the Lenaea in Athens.
Old Comedy consisted of choral songs alternating with dialogue but it had less of a pattern than tragedy did. The chorus consisted of about twenty-four men and extras, and they often played animals. The actors wore grotesque costumes and masks.
Old comedies began with a prologos, and then the entrance of the chorus which proceeded to sing a parados, a song. Then there was the main event, the agon, a struggle, which was a debate or physical fight between two of the actors. There were songs during the action and subsequent scenes or epeisodia. The chorus also uttered a parabasis, which was a blessing on the audience. As with tragedy, comedies also ended with the final scene, or exodos.
Second century C.E. mosaic depicting dramatic masks for Tragedy and Comedy
Middle Comedy in Ancient Greece was basically Athenian comedy from about 400-323 B.C.E. It developed after the Peloponnesian War and was more experimental with different styles beginning to emerge. Apparently it became quite popular and experienced a revival in Sicily and Magna Graecia.
Comic choruses began to play less of a role, and the parabasis was no longer used. Interestingly, the more grotesque costumes and phalluses were not as popular either.
Comedic plots based on mythology and political satire began to give way to less harsh humour and a focus on ordinary lives and issues.
Sadly, no complete plays from Middle Comedy survive, but some of the authors we know of were Antiphanes, Tubules, Anaxandrides, Timocles, and Alexis. Some might also class Aristophanes as one of the earliest poets of Greek Middle Comedy.
Thalia – The Muse of Comedy
Lastly, New Comedy is generally considered to be Athenian comedy from the death of Alexander the Great in 323 B.C.E to about 263 B.C.E.
In New Comedy performances, plays were five acts long and were interspersed with unrelated choral or musical interludes. They were generally set in Athens or Attica, and the actors wore masks, but now dressed in regular everyday clothes.
Though new comedies were Athenian, writers came from around the broader Greek world to Athens to write, and to see the plays.
The themes of these new plays were more human and relatable and dealt with things such as family relationships, love, mistaken identities (a throw-over from Middle Comedy), the intrigues of slaves, and long-lost children.
There were also stock characters that emerged such as pimps and courtesans, soldiers, young men in love, genial old men, and angry old men.
The themes and characters of Greek New Comedy greatly influenced Roman drama and which became so popular for the Roman theatre crowd.
Menander (c. 343–291 B.C.E)
Sadly, little survives in the form of Greek New Comedy, but much Roman comedy such as plays by Plautus and Terence, were based on those Greek plays, particularly Menander (c. 341-290 B.C.E). Other authors included Diphilus and Philemon.
It is a true tragedy that so much comedy does not survive. Menander alone is thought to have written over one hundred plays, and yet only a small fragment of a single one of his plays survives.
Thankfully, Roman playwrights such as Plautus and Terence used Menander’s plays as blueprints for their own and, as a result of that New Comedy format and formula, they gave rise to the western comedic tradition we are familiar with to this day through Shakespeare, Moliere, and others.
Now that we have briefly touched on the history of drama and plays, let’s take a look at where these plays were actually performed.
The Theatre of Dionysus, Athens
The word ‘theatre’ comes from the Greek word theatron which literally means ‘a place for watching’.
Theatres were built from the sixth century B.C.E onward. Most religious sites had a theatre and, as previously mentioned, they were used to celebrate festivals in honour of Dionysus.
Greek drama grew out of these religious festivals.
Early theatres could be temporary wooden structures, or a sort of scaffolding, but this practice was ceased after a deadly collapse in the Agora of Athens in about 497 B.C.E. After that, performances in Athens moved to the hillside where the theatre of Dionysus was built on the south slope of the Acropolis.
It became common practice to build theatres into the slopes or hillsides of natural hollows or, alternatively, into man-made embankments which supported tiers of seats on the hillside. Beginning in the fourth century B.C.E, theatre seating was built in marble. Theatres were generally D-shaped or on half-circle plans.
Ground Plan of the Ionian Greek theatre at Iassos.
All theatres where drama was performed were ‘open-air’ and had several common components: the koilon (the seating area) where the seats in the front row were reserved for priests and officials, the orkestra (the circular performance space), and the skene (a building for storage and changing rooms for actors). Later, the skene became a stage with a backdrop called the proskenion (in Latin, the scaena frons). The addition of this stage (pulpitum in Latin) expanded the performance area.
The other common performance space that was similar to theatres in Ancient Greece was the odeon (plur. odeia). These were usually roofed structures for listening to musical recitals and contests, poetry readings and other similar performances. Odeia were basically small theatres with a roof.
The first odeon of ancient Athens is thought to be that built by Pericles in the fifth century B.C.E. It was located directly beside the theatre of Dionysus and was a pyramidal structure made of wood with the roof supported by many columns. Some believe it was designed to resemble the tent of the defeated King of Persia.
Other odeia of ancient Athens included the Odeon of Agrippa in the Athenian Agora, and the stunning Odeon of Herodes Atticus on the southwestern slope of the Acropolis which is still used for performances to this day and which is featured in An Altar of Indignities.
Acropolis of Athens with the Odeon of Herodes Atticus before it on the left.
Today, theatre and dramatic performance is seen as more of a luxury in western society, something for the privileged few.
This was not the case in ancient Athens.
Though drama had religious beginnings, it evolved into an important way for Greeks as a society (albeit mostly for male citizens) to investigate the world in which they lived and what it meant to be human.
Aristotle believed that drama, tragedy in particular, had a way of cleansing the heart through pity and terror. It could purge men of their petty concerns and worries and, with this noble ‘suffering’, they underwent a sort of catharsis.
With the advent of philosophical thought, theatre and drama became the vehicle that encouraged average Greeks to become more ‘moral’ by helping them to process the issues of the day through both Tragedy and Comedy.
Rather than being a leisure activity for the elites, as it is perceived today, attending the theatre in ancient Athens was an important form of civic engagement after exercising one’s rights and performing one’s duties for the community (such as voting). Watching and experiencing tragedies and comedies with one’s fellow citizens became an important activity in the new Democracy of the day.
Not only did the drama and theatres of ancient Athens inspire their Roman successors, they also helped to shape the artistic traditions of western civilization.
For that, we should all be grateful.
Thank you for reading.
An array of Greek theatre masks
We hope that you’ve enjoyed this short post on drama and theatres in ancient Athens. There is a lot more to learn on this subject. We highly recommend the documentary series by Professor Michael Scott, Ancient Greece: The Greatest Show on Earth. You can watch the first episode HERE.
There are a lot more posts coming in The World of An Altar or Indignities, so make sure that you are subscribed to the Eagles and Dragons Publishing Newsletter so that you don’t miss any of them. When you subscribe you get the first book in our #1 best-selling Eagles and Dragons series for FREE!
In celebration of drama in the ancient world, be sure to check out our ‘Ancient Theatre’ Collection in the Eagles and Dragons Publishing AGORA on Etsy which features a range of ancient theatre-themed clothing, glassware and more! CLICK HERE to browse.
Stay tuned for the next post in this blog series in which we’ll be looking at travel and transportation in the Roman Empire.
Eagles and Dragons Publishing is thrilled to announce the release of Book II in The Etrurian Players series!
The title is An Altar of Indignities: A Dramatic and Romantic Comedy of Ancient Rome and Athens and it is an embarrassing and touching story of family and friendship, creativity, and the discomfort that humans experience as life inevitably changes.
The story takes place in the Roman Empire in the year 205 CE…
Brace yourselves! The Etrurian Players are back!
The Gods are well aware that mortals have a habit of taking themselves far too seriously. This is especially true of The Etrurian Players, the greatest theatrical troupe in the Roman Empire.
Basking in the glories of their resounding success in Rome, Felix Modestus and his players find themselves on the sacred island of Delos when Apollo decides it is time to check Felix’s growing hubris with a new and potentially deadly mission: he must show the people of Athens that Romans are just as capable of theatrical greatness as the Greeks!
Faced with this titanic task, Felix once again enlists the help of his oldest friends, Rufio and Clara, who travel from their farm in Etruria to Athens for the great Panathenaic festival when the precarious production is destined to take place.
As the company attempts to prepare for the performance, their efforts are constantly hampered by haughty critics, a rival theatre troupe, wailing children, wild animals, and the pleasures of Athena’s polis.
Will The Etrurian Players overcome distraction to win over the people of Athens? Will they survive the trials and judgement of Apollo? Or will they succumb to the humiliation and self-doubt that lurks around every creative corner?
Only by believing in themselves and helping each other can they survive and prove once again that The Etrurian Players are worthy of praise and the Gods’ favour.
If you like dramatic and comic stories about wild artists, persistent shades, and unbelievable episodes with goats, monkeys, and dogs, then you will howl and cry at An Altar of Indignities!
Read this book today for a theatrical misadventure in Roman Athens that will leave you asking the Gods ‘What were they thinking?’.
If you are feeling down about the world at the moment, The Etrurian Players series is just the ticket you need to feel good and know that there is indeed hope for us all!
An Altar of Indignities is now available in ebook, paperback and deluxe hardcover editions from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortar chains, and your local public library.
CLICK HERE to buy a copy or get ISBN# information for the edition of your choice.
You can also purchase the ebook directly from Eagles and Dragons Publishing by clicking HERE.
We’re so excited to share this dramatic and romantic comedy with the world, and we’re thrilled that you’re joining us on the adventure!
This October, Eagles and Dragons Publishing is thrilled to announce the release of our complete historical horror trilogy, The Carpathian Interlude, in a new, deluxe hardcover edition!
We’re really proud of the hardcover books we design here at Eagles and Dragons Publishing, and with this latest one we’ve exceeded our expectations!
In addition to the sturdy hardcover case and jacket that will see this book pass safely through many readers’ hands – especially in a public library setting – there are also fun design details like the carved image of the ‘Taurauctony’ of the god, Mithras, as well as the haunting image of the Kalkriese mask from the Teutoberg Forest massacre.
If you don’t know why those are relevant to the story, then you’ll need to read the book!
Here’s a peek at the full hardcover jacket, case, and the story synopsis…
Hardcover Dust Jacket
The Hardcover Case beneath the jacket
The Carpathian Interlude
Only when fear is at its most intense can true heroism come into the light.
For ages, an ancient evil has been hiding in the heart of the Carpathian Mountains, an enemy of the god Mithras, Lord of Light.
In A.D. 9, when three of the Emperor Augustus’ legions are slaughtered in the forests of Germania, it becomes evident to a small group of experienced veterans that something more sinister than the rebellious German tribes is responsible for the massacre.
It falls to Gaius Justus Vitalis and a few warriors favoured by Mithras to hunt down and destroy the forces of undead spurred on by this ancient evil. Summoning all of their courage, they must wade through horror and rivers of blood to bring Mithras’ light into the darkness, or else see the destruction of Rome, the Empire, and all they hold dear.
The adventure begins with the appearance of a young refugee beneath the walls of a distant legionary base…
The Carpathian Interlude is the perfect read for fans of Roman historical fiction and horror. Read it for Halloween, during the dark days of Winter, or any time you’re craving adventure.
Step into the world of The Carpathian Interlude today for an epic and visceral adventure in the Roman Empire that you will never forget!
The Carpathian Interlude: The Complete Trilogy is available in ebook, paperback and hardcover from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortal chains, and your local public library.
CLICK HERE to buy a copy or get ISBN# information for the edition of your choice.
We’re thrilled to announce that Adam and Sincerity is a Goddess have made it to the Finals of the Chanticleer International Book Awards’ Chaucer Award for Early Historical Fiction!
This is very exciting news and we can’t wait to see if Fortuna favours them with a First Place or Grand Prize win this coming April.
Thank you to all of our wonderful readers around the world for the amazing support for Adam and Sincerity is a Goddess!
Visit the link below to see the full press release:
When one thinks of the great cities of the ancient world the first that most often comes to mind is Athens. It is a beacon of light, learning, and invention in the far-distant past that continues to inspire and influence us to this day.
It is also my second home, for I have been fortunate enough to return to Athens many times over the years to visit family, and to acquaint myself with the countless historical monuments that still stand, from the Parthenon and Kerameikos, to the often overlooked shrines along the Ilissos River which runs beneath the city.
When I find my way around the city of Athens, I do so by way of its ancient monuments. They have always been my guides, my markers for navigating the warren of streets and alleyways of the city of the Goddess Athena.
Athens, Greece – Monastiraki Square and ancient Acropolis with rainbow
But Athens is not just a place for those fascinated by mythological and Classical Greece. There is also a great deal for the most ardent of Romanophiles to see, for ancient Athens was loved and admired by a few Roman emperors, foremost among them being Hadrian (A.D. 117-138).
This past summer, while on vacation in Greece, I returned to the historic centre of this ancient city to do some research for the forthcoming second novel in The Etrurian Players series. One of the monuments I was most interested in re-visiting was the Roman Agora of Athens.
Before we get into my visit to the site, we should talk a bit about its history and what there is to see…
Plan of the Roman Agora
The agora of an ancient Greek city was the central public gathering place. It was the political, social, business, athletic, and religious heart of the city. The agora was where anything of import happened or was decided.
And the city of Athens was fortunate enough to have two of them.
The first agora of Athens was, of course, the ancient one located at the northwest corner of the Acropolis and covering the area between it, the Areopagus, and the massive Dipylon Gate of the city. And the great route of the Panathenaic Way ran through it, all the way to the entrance to the Acropolis.
The ancient agora was filled stoas and temples and monuments to heroes and to the Gods. There were fountains, a library, a mint, offices, altars, sanctuaries and more. And in around 14 B.C., the Roman general, Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa built an odeon in the middle of the ancient agora which had an auditorium for about one thousand spectators.
The Roman Agora from the eastern propylon
Just prior to the time that General Agrippa built his odeon, another building project began to take place in the city of Athens, this time sponsored by Emperor Augustus in fulfillment of a promise previously made by Gaius Julius Caesar. This new project was the Roman Agora, also known as the ‘Roman Forum’ of Athens. It was begun in 19 B.C. and finally finished in 11 B.C.
It is said that the reason for this new building project was because the ancient agora had become so full of monuments and buildings that there was no longer a wide open, public gathering place. As we shall see, the new Roman Agora would serve other purposes.
Gate of Athena Archegetis
The new agora, built by Caesar (posthumously) and Augustus, became the commercial centre of Roman Athens and the main oil market of the city. It was the beating heart of Roman Athens.
The monumental western entrance to the agora at the Gate of Athena Archegetis confirms who sponsored the building of the gate and agora with the following inscription:
The People of Athens from the donations offered by Gaius Julius Caesar the God and the Reverend Emperor son of God To Athena Archegetis, on behalf of the soldiers of Eukles from Marathon, who curated it on behalf of his father Herod and who was also an ambassador under the archon Nicias, son of Sarapion, from the demos of Athmonon
Of course, it was dedicated to Athena as the patron goddess of the city, and because it was Athena who had given Athens the olive tree, and hence the all-important olive oil which was sold in the agora.
The importance of the Roman agora as Athens’ main oil market during the Roman period is also reinforced by the inscription bearing Hadrian’s olive oil law on the doorway of the agora which outlined taxes and fines for false declarations of the production, export, or sale of olive oil there.
Atop the Gate of Athena Archegetis was an equestrian statue of Lucius Caesar, the grandson of Emperor Augustus.
The Roman Agora of Athens consisted of a large paved, open-air courtyard that was surrounded by colonnades of white and grey marble from Penteli and Hymettos. The colonnades were covered and had spaces for shops and merchants selling various goods, storerooms, the offices of the market, and a fountain.
There were two propylaea, including the Gate of Athena Archegetis at the west end, and another propylon at the east end. Both entrances aligned with the ancient roads at either side.
The ‘South Colonnade’ with the remains of the fountains and agora offices on the left
Today, about a third of the north side of the Roman Agora lies beneath the modern streets and buildings, but the south colonnade remains largely intact. Remains, including inscriptions on columns, show that parts of the colonnade were set aside for specific merchants such as oil merchants or butchers. In some of the surviving stylobates, there are also round cavities of varying sizes in the marble that are supposed to have been used to measure out goods.
In the middle of the south colonnade, there was also a fountain with two cisterns at different levels. This was fed from springs on the north slope of the Acropolis just to the south. Also in this location were the market offices where citizens and merchants could pay taxes and take care of other business.
When there was heavy rain, the large court of the agora had an open air drain which allowed for runoff to be carried underground and diverted to the Eridanos River.
Tower of the Winds behind the eastern propylon of the agora
The Roman Agora today is, perhaps, most famous for what is known as the ‘Tower of the Winds’.
This octagonal structure, located just outside the eastern wall of the Roman Agora, contained the horologion built by the astronomer, Andronikos Kyrestes, in the mid 1st century B.C.
The Roman architect, Vitruvius, wrote about the tower in his work De Architectura…
…those who have inquired more diligently lay down that there are eight (winds): especially indeed Andronikos of Kyrrhos, who also, as an example, built at Athens an octagonal marble tower, and, on the several sides of the octagon, had representations of the winds carved to face their currents. And above that tower he caused to be made a marble upright, and above it he placed a bronze Triton holding a rod in his right hand. He so contrived that it was driven round by the wind, and always faced the current of air, and held the rod as indicator above the representation of the wind blowing.
(Vitruvius, De Architectura, c. 20s B.C.)
The Tower of the Winds is said to be the oldest meteorological station in the world with sundials on the exterior, a hydraulic clock inside, and its bronze weather vane on top indicating the eight winds which is thought to have allowed merchants in the agora to know the winds and estimate the arrival of shipments coming from the port of Piraeus.
Lastly, a few steps from the Tower of the Winds, also just outside the main precinct of the Roman Agora was a large public latrine, or vespasianae, with openings on four sides with a small court for ventilation.
The Roman Agora and the large precinct of the great Library of Hadrian beside it made this area the main administrative centre of the city of Athens, supplanting the classical agora in this role, especially after the Herulian invasion of Athens in A.D. 267.
Adam exploring the Roman Agora
As stated, this was not my first time visiting the Roman Agora of Athens. The site has also appeared in the #1 bestselling Eagles and Dragons series prequel novel, A Dragon Among the Eagles. However, each time I go, it is with a different purpose and perspective. This time, it was to research it as a setting in the next Etrurian Players book.
We left our home in Pangrati early so as to try and beat the heat, and because archaeological sites were closing from 11 a.m. – 4 p.m. during the heatwave. Nevertheless, when we arrived it was a scorching 45 degrees Celsius with no intact colonnades to hide beneath as they would have had when the agora was whole.
After making our way through the crammed alleyways of Plaka and Monastiraki, we purchased our tickets at the office across the street and made our way in beside the Gate of Athena Archegetis.
Remains on-site
Once you enter, you are struck by the expanse of the open courtyard of the agora, even though a large portion of it is covered by the streets and buildings to your left. From there, you make your way along the remains of the south colonnade. Here, there are numerous column capitals, a sarcophagus, and other artifacts lying in the parched grass beneath palms where the resident cats and lizards doze and scurry.
As I walked, I could almost hear the crowds of the market around me, the sounds of the merchants selling their wares. I could imagine the tang of the olive oil in my nostrils. The marble courtyard must have been blinding in the midday sun, but one has to imagine that most of the shops would have closed by the sixth hour of daylight for the afternoon rest, as the Greeks and Romans were wont to do.
Site of fountain in the Roman Agora
We walked past the fountain and the remains of offices in the middle of the south colonnade and, at the end, found the carved hollows in the stylobate where merchants measured (fairly, one hopes!) out products such as grain or beans.
From there, the small forest of columns and a staircase indicate that you have reached the eastern propylon, the monumental entrance on the other side of the agora. As you walk up the stairs, you are keenly aware of the presence of what is the focal point of the archaeological site: The Tower of the Winds.
The Tower of the Winds – the oldest meteorological station in the world
The Tower of the Winds is a mesmerizing monument, as simple as it is. But one cannot take one’s eyes off of the images of the winds portrayed about the top. The smooth, white marble surface is beautiful, the lines of the sundials faintly visible.
One can imagine the citizens of ancient Athens walking up to it to check the time, the same as some do today with modern clock towers on some city halls. But this was the heart of Roman Athens, and so this meteorological monument was a fitting addition to this ancient gathering place.
Interior floor of the Tower of the Winds which held the mechanism of the water clock of the horologion
After exploring the area around the Tower of the Winds, including the vespasianae, the public latrine, we walked back across the open space of the great courtyard, taking time to pause.
I imagined this vast, ancient market place bustling with life, filled with people, with myriad things for sale, and the scenes of my novel that I was searching for began to take shape. I could see a beautiful comedic chaos unfolding!
For a writer of historical fiction, the city of Athens is a dream come true, for the bones of the ancient world are still there to see, to feel, and to inspire.
As the heat reached a literal fever pitch, I was finished with my research for the day and sought the nearest taverna for a cold drink in the shade, something which the Greeks and Romans would gladly have done at that time of day.
Thank you for reading.
Be sure to check out the video of our tour of The Roman Agora of Athens in order to experience this site for yourself. You can view it below, or visit the Eagles and Dragons Publishing YouTube channel by CLICKING HERE.
For some excellent digital recreations of the Roman Agora of Athens, check out the very skilled work of the folks at Ancient Athens 3D HERE.
Is this statement of Aristotle’s correct? Perhaps it was in ancient Greece when the Persians were invading the lands of the Hellenes, murdering and enslaving them. It might even have been true in the smaller world of the Greek homeland when one neighbouring city-state overstepped and boundaries for the relationship needed to be re-established.
This is a very simplistic way of looking at it. War was part of life in the ancient world and a good city-state, and its citizens, were prepared for war if the need should arise.
Perhaps the better question to ask ourselves in regard to Aristotle’s words above is this:
Is this still true today?
Do we still make war that we may live in peace? Or do we make war for other reasons? And who is the ‘We’ in all of this?
As November 11th approaches and we rightly honour the sacrifices of our men and women in uniform, past and present, on Remembrance Day and Veterans Day, questions of war are front of mind for many of us.
I’ve been thinking about writing a post like this for some time now. Let’s face it, it’s not an easy topic, and many are divided. This is more of a thought process post in which we will take a brief look at what ancient democracies and republics did when it came to the decision to go to war, and whether we can learn anything from them today.
Sadly, I can’t recall a time when there wasn’t some terrible conflict choking the screens of our televisions, or drowning the feeds of our social media platforms. Tragically,it seems that our world is at a terrible tipping point.
It seems like ‘we’ are addicted to war.
Again, I ask, who is the ‘We’ in that statement? Here is another statement from Aristotle for us to consider as we wade through the weedy terrain of this topic:
We are what we repeatedly do.
Aristotle
Ancient Greek Hoplites in Battle
The history of ancient democracies is marked by a fascinating interplay between citizen participation and the conduct of foreign affairs, particularly in matters of war. These early democratic societies grappled with the ethical and practical complexities of deciding whether to go to war against their enemies. The concept of “war by the people, for the people” was not only a foundational principle but also a challenging moral and strategic puzzle.
Let’s explore briefly the decision-making processes and the moral considerations that ancient democratic civilizations such as Athens and the Roman Republic confronted when deciding whether to wage war.
View of the Acropolis of Athens from the Pnyx, site of the Athenian Assembly
The Athenian Democracy
The Athenian democracy, which emerged in the 5th century BCE, is often hailed as a pioneering model of citizen participation in governance. At the heart of Athenian democracy was the Ekklesia, an assembly of free male citizens who could propose and vote on laws, including decisions related to war and peace. Thucydides, the ancient historian, captures the essence of Athenian democracy in his account of the Peloponnesian War:
Pericles… declared that a man who took no interest in public affairs was not a quiet, unoffending citizen, but a useless one. In one word, he conceived that they were born to serve the state, not only in matters great and high, but in the least and lowest also.
(Thucydides – History of the Peloponnesian War)
It is interesting to note that in ancient Greece, the word idiota referred to someone who refrained from participation in public life, who chose not to take part in the decisions that affected the democracy itself.
In ancient Athens, male citizens were expected serve the state, not only by serving the requiredminimum of two years in the military, but also by voting and putting forth an opinion on matters great and small, including the decision to go to war.
Are citizens’ voices and opinions held in such high regard today?
Let’s leave that particular question hanging for the moment.
Artist impression of a meeting of the Athenian Assembly on the Pnyx
In the Ekklesia of ancient Athens, the moral dilemma of whether to undertake a certain action or policy, including whether or not to go to war, was expected to be strongly considered by the citizens of the assembly, the citizens of Athens.
However, this empowerment of citizens in the decision-making process came with its own dilemma. Athens faced a delicate balance between the pursuit of its interests and the ethical considerations of war. As Thucydides continues:
…a reason for attacking a neighbour; they thought it equitable to keep what they held and weak to give up anything, and it was more disgraceful to lose anything once possessed than not to have gained at all.
(Thucydides – History of the Peloponnesian War)
This statement will, of course, sting when it comes to the conflicts currently happening in parts of the world, as it should. However, when it comes to imperialistic tendencies, the moral dilemma behind this statement stings all the more.
If a country has what it has always had, if it has not been attacked, should it still go to war?
There is was definite tension between self-interest and moral principles in Athenian democracy. The Ekklesia had the power to decide on war, but it was not always clear whether the decision was driven by strategic necessity or imperial ambition.
Most citizens of the Greek city-states agreed that the war against Persia had to be waged. It was about survival, about ‘freedom or death’, a phrase that is ingrained in the Greek psyche to this day. Could the same be said of the Peloponnesian conflict?
Pericles’ funeral oration for Athenian dead of Peloponnesian War.
Wars have dire consequences on both sides of the conflict, so why do ‘we’ seem to be so willing to engage in them?
In ancient Athens, the people had a voice, or at least they were supposed to. Here are some specific examples of confrontations in ancient Athens in which the decision to go to war was hotly debated by the citizenry:
The Peloponnesian War (431-404 BCE) – Athens vs. Sparta
The outbreak of the Peloponnesian War between Athens and Sparta was met with significant debate in the Athenian Ekklesia. The statesman Pericles argued in favour of a defensive strategy, urging the Athenians to retreat behind the city’s walls and rely on their navy which was the strongest in the world at the time. However, there was public opposition to this strategy, with some advocating for a more aggressive stance.
Ultimately, the Athenian assembly decided to follow Pericles’ strategy, leading to the construction of the Long Walls that connected Athens to its port, Piraeus. Still, at various points during the Peloponnesian War, there were instances of public opposition to the conflict, particularly in Athens. The war’s prolonged nature and the suffering of the Athenian population led to widespread dissatisfaction.
The war, marked by several debates and shifts in strategies, eventually ended with the defeat of Athens in 404 BCE.
The Sicilian Expedition (415-413 BCE) – Athens vs. Syracuse
The Sicilian Expedition was a controversial military campaign proposed by the Athenian general Alcibiades not only against Sparta, but this time also against Corinth and Syracuse. Many Athenians were initially opposed to it due to its immense cost and risks.
Again, there was much debate in the Ekklesia of Athens with the young, arrogant Alcibiades pushing for war. In opposition to him, the commander, Nicias, debated that Athens should not go to war in Sicily, that they would be leaving powerful enemies at their backs as the war still raged in Greece. Nicias also tried to warn the assembly that Alcibiades and his proponents wanted to lead Athens into war for their own ends.
Despite public opposition and concerns, the Athenian assembly eventually approved the expedition. Unfortunately for Nicias, and for Athens, two hundred ships and thousands of soldiers were sent to Sicily, and they were all lost. Athens had spread itself too thinly and its, (and Alcibiades’) ‘imperial hubris’ were the death stroke for Athens.
The Sicilian Expedition ended in a catastrophic failure, with the Athenian fleet and forces suffering heavy losses, which significantly weakened Athens in the Peloponnesian War.
The Peloponnesian War and the Sicilian Expedition both had severe, negative impacts on both Athens and Sparta. Athens experienced a devastating plague that decimated its population, and the conflict drained its treasury. In Sparta, the prolonged war created economic hardships, and the agricultural land was ravaged. Ultimately, the war resulted in the eventual defeat and decline of Athens, but left both city-states significantly weakened.
In these prolonged conflicts one could say that both sides ‘lost’, for the winner and the loser both paid heavy prices.
Was the Athenian citizenry swayed by false promises and flowery rhetoric? Probably.
Painting depicting Cicero speaking out in the Senate
The Roman Republic
In the Roman Republic, a different form of democratic governance emerged. Power was divided between the Senate, an aristocratic body of elders, and various popular assemblies in which Roman citizens could vote on key matters. The Roman Republic’s decision to go to war was often a complex interplay between the Senate and the Popular Assemblies.
This form of government is more akin to our modern democracies than that of ancient Athens where citizens had the opportunity to speak for themselves in the assembly and to vote directly on decisions.
When it came to debates in the Roman Senate about decisions to go to war, few could argue so eloquently as the Roman statesman and philosopher, Cicero. He grappled with the ethical dimensions of war in his writings. In his work De Officiis (On Duties), he discusses the moral principles that should guide leaders in deciding whether to wage war:
[W]e must consider not only the honesty and justice of going to war, but also the ways and means of conducting it… Above all, nothing is more disgraceful than to be eager to make war, but without taking proper precautions.
(Marcus Tullius Cicero, On Duties)
Cicero’s emphasis on the necessity of just cause and proportionality in warfare reflects the moral concerns that were at the heart of Roman deliberations. He wasn’t against war, but strongly emphasized careful consideration of what it meant, the cost to the Republic and its citizens, as well as proper preparation if the decision to go to war was taken.
In the history of Rome, there were numerous wars and conflicts that were hotly debated and pushed for by various factions in the Senate and Popular Assemblies. Here are a couple of examples…
The Roman Invasion of Carthage (149-146 BCE) – Roman Republic vs. Carthage
When it came to the third Punic War which followed the defeat of Hannibal in the second, the Roman Senate was divided over whether to fight Carthage once more. Prominent senators like Cato the Elder argued passionately for the destruction of Carthage, citing it as a long-term threat to Rome. He was so eager for the destruction of Carthage that it is said that he ended nearly every speech in the Senate with Carthago delenda est – “Carthage must be destroyed”.
However, others were more cautious, as Carthage posed no immediate danger, having been thoroughly trounced at the Battle of Zama.
Despite opposition to the war – for the Roman people had suffered greatly in the previous one with Hannibal arriving at the gates of Rome itself – the Roman Senate ultimately declared war on Carthage and the Third Punic War began. The conflict ended with the complete destruction of Carthage in 146 BCE, symbolized by the razing of the city, the apparent salting of the surrounding earth, and the enslavement of its population. Rome may have won that particular war, but at what cost to the Roman people?
The Roman Civil Wars (1st Century BCE) – Various Factions
The final years of the Roman Republic were marked by intense political and military conflicts among various factions, including the Populares and the Optimates. Key figures like Julius Caesar, Pompey, and Cicero were involved in debates over the course of action. Cicero, for instance, consistently advocated for the preservation of the Republic through peaceful means. He loved the Republic, and did not want to see it destroyed.
The aim of a ship’s captain is a successful voyage; a doctor’s, health; a general’s, victory. So the aim of our ideal statesman is the citizens’ happy life–that is, a life secure in wealth, rich in resources, abundant in renown, and honourable in its moral character. That is the task which I wish him to accomplish–the greatest and best that any man can have.
(Marcus Tullius Cicero, On the Republic / On the Laws)
Unfortunately for the Roman people, the prolonged civil war that came out of the debates brought about political instability, economic hardships, and military conscription, which took a toll on the Roman populace. The social fabric of Rome was torn asunder, and the eventual victory of Julius Caesar marked the end of the Republic and the beginning of the Roman Empire, with centralized imperial rule replacing the traditional republican system.
Cicero had been justified in his concern about the erosion of the Republic’s institutions.
In both the examples of the Third Punic War and the Civil Wars, the disregard for public opposition to war by political leaders had serious repercussions. These instances serve as cautionary tales, highlighting the consequences of leaders pursuing their agendas despite significant public resistance, ultimately leading to significant upheaval and societal change.
Civil War
This is a vastly complicated topic, and we have but scratched the surface of the armour here. We’ve only looked at a few examples out of many in the history of Greece and Rome.
Comparing the Athenian and Roman models of democracy reveals striking differences in their approaches to war. Athens embraced a more direct form of democracy, where the citizens themselves decided on matters of war. This often led to rapid and aggressive military actions. In contrast, the Roman Republic, with its complex system of checks and balances, tended to approach war with more caution, as reflected in Cicero’s moral reflections. Still, were the wishes of Rome’s citizens carefully considered? Was Cicero facing a tidal wave of opposition, or were the greedy motives of a few what brought war to the Roman people once again?
Both Athens and Rome grappled with moral considerations when deciding whether to wage war. Pericles’ assertion of civic duty in Athens and Cicero’s ethical principles in Rome demonstrate that moral discourse was intrinsic to these ancient democracies. However, both models were not infallible. One could say that the Athenian democratic and Roman Republican models allowed for debate, but were also prone to more impulsive decisions driven by self-interest.
Artist impression of the Second Macedonian War
Ancient democracies navigated the intricate path of deciding whether to wage war against their enemies. These societies, though distinct in their democratic structures, were united in their commitment to deliberating the ethical dimensions of warfare.
The tension between self-interest and moral principles was an enduring challenge, reflecting the enduring complexity of democratic decision-making.
As we reflect on these historical examples, we are reminded that the dilemma of whether to go to war or not remains a pressing concern in contemporary democracies. The lessons of the past offer valuable insights into the delicate balance between the will of the people and the moral and strategic imperatives that underpin the decision to wage war. Ancient democracies can serve as a source of inspiration and contemplation as we grapple with the challenges of our own time.
Modern politicians would do well to mind what history has taught us.
Public opposition and debates were common, reflecting the diversity of opinions within these societies. The outcomes varied, often with significant consequences for the states involved.
Certainly, there were instances in ancient Greece and Rome where the people were strongly opposed to going to war, but politicians ignored their concerns and pursued military campaigns regardless. These wars often had negative impacts on the populations involved, and this is not relegated to the distant past, but has indeed played out in the modern era.
Vietnam War
Here are some examples:
The Vietnam War (1955-1975) – This conflict had devastating consequences for both the United States and Vietnam. It resulted in a high death toll, significant economic expenditure, and a deeply divided American society. The war also led to environmental damage due to the widespread use of defoliants like Agent Orange.
In the case of the Vietnam War, American politicians faced widespread public opposition, with anti-war protests, draft dodging, and disillusionment among the youth. The negative impact of the war, both in terms of lives lost and economic burden, weighed heavily on subsequent administrations. The war’s unpopularity played a role in the electoral defeat of President Lyndon B. Johnson and influenced the 1972 presidential election.
The Iraq War (2003-2011) – This war had profound negative consequences. It destabilized the region, led to the loss of thousands of lives, and incurred substantial financial costs. The war’s aftermath saw the rise of extremist groups and sectarian violence, contributing to regional instability that persists to this day.
The Iraq War faced significant public opposition, and politicians who supported it faced criticism. The war’s costs, both in terms of lives and resources, contributed to declining public support and played a role in the 2008 presidential election, where the Iraq War was a key issue.
The Afghanistan War (2001-2021) – This was America’s longest conflict, and it had significant negative consequences. It resulted in a protracted and costly military engagement, with a high human toll. Despite initial objectives to combat terrorism, Afghanistan remained politically unstable, and the Taliban regained control following the U.S. withdrawal in 2021.
The Afghanistan War eroded public support over time and, one could say, the global good will toward the U.S. after 9/11 was ultimately squandered by the drawn out conflict. Politicians who advocated for continued military involvement often faced scrutiny, and the war’s unpopularity became a factor in subsequent elections.
American troops in Afghanistan
Again, these are just a few examples of wars, but it is worth asking: Are they worth the human, financial, and societal costs?
Perhaps modern politicians should listen more closely to public opinion, and take a more ‘Ciceronian’ approach to war when assessing the costs and consequences of going to war? There should be a robust debate. Should any one person make the decision to go to war? I would say there is too much at stake to allow that.
Citizens of modern democracies are led to believe that politicians encourage open and robust debates on matters of war and conflict. Do they?
Public discourse and debate can help weigh the pros and cons, ensuring that decisions are well-informed and scrutinized. Does that happen?
Do you think that diplomacy and conflict resolution should be prioritized whenever possible?
Do you believe that war should be a last resort, and politicians should exhaust all diplomatic avenues before considering military action?
Again, we come back to one of the questions asked at the outset: Are citizens’ voices and opinions on these matters held in such high regard today as they were, say, in ancient Athens?
In ancient democracies, the people had avenues to express their wishes in matters of war, but do we truly have that today? Do the people’s wishes truly matter? Are our politicians simply taking the ‘easy’ way out?
It is more difficult to organize a peace than to win a war; but the fruits of victorywill be lost if the peace is not organized.
Aristotle
The Voice of the People
I realize that our modern western democracies are enormous, covering continents in some instances. It is impossible for all citizens to gather in one place to debate, discuss, and vote as the Athenians did on the Pnyx in ancient Athens, or as the Roman people did on the Field of Mars or in the Forum Romanum.
Today, the people have their elected representatives speaking for them, be it in the House of Commons, or the in the Senate. The decisions taken in these bodies affect everyone.
The question now is, do you, as a citizen feel like your representatives in the Commons or Senate hear you and consider your own wishes and needs? When it comes to the deeply serious moral dilemma of whether or not our democracies should go to war, are the citizenry being listened to?
What would the world be like if all of our politicians were as thoughtful as Cicero, for example, when it came to matters of war and its consequences?
In some of the examples above, we’ve seen what happens when the citizenry is ignored. So today, we need to ask ourselves that if the will of the majority, of the people, is not being taken into account when it comes to the decisions that impact our way of life, our world, our very lives, is change required? Is the system of government broken? Have the elected representatives in our democracies lost sight of the true nature and purpose of those same democracies?
History seems to be repeating itself, and not in a good way.
Is it time for the citizenry to reassert its voice? Should there be virtual referendums when it comes to the decision of going to war?
I, like many of you, have many questions and doubts. But I do know this: Democracy may not be a perfect or fool-proof system, but it is (or at least it should be) at its core, more honest and fair.
Maybe we just need more Ciceros.
Thank you for reading.
This Remembrance Day and Veterans Day, Eagles and Dragons Publishing is, as always, grateful to our men and women in uniform who risk their lives to keep us all safe at home and abroad. We are proud to have made contributions to the causes of the following charities: Royal Canadian Legion Poppy Campaign, War Child Canada, and Wounded Warriors Canada.
The Art Beneath our Feet – Remote Mosaic in Roman North Africa
Greetings history-lovers!
Today we have a bit of a different post for you.
I don’t know about you, but whenever I travel around the Mediterranean to visit museums and archaeological sites, one of the things that always draws my eye are mosaics.
I can’t get enough of them to be honest. They fascinate me endlessly and I’m always shocked by how thousands of tiny tesserae can be combined to make almost lifelike images.
In a way, mosaics are artifacts that we often take for granted today as we tour ancient sites, but the fact remains that mosaic making is an ancient art form that has been used to decorate floors, walls, and ceilings for centuries.
The art of mosaic making reached its zenith during the Roman Empire, and Greek and Roman mosaicists across the empire produced some of the most beautiful and intricate mosaics in the world from Rome to North Africa and Carthage to Zeugma along the Euphrates river where some of the most glorious mosaics of the Roman world were rescued.
In this post, we will explore the art of mosaic making in the Roman Empire, and the techniques, materials, and designs that made it so unique.
Mosaic wall in Mesopotamia – 3rd Millennium B.C.E. (source: Klink)
Mosaic making is an art form that dates back to ancient Mesopotamia, where it was used to decorate the floors and walls of temples and palaces in the third millennium B.C.E.
The art of mosaic making was also popular in ancient Greece, where it was used to decorate public buildings and homes. On the sacred island of Delos, the mythical birthplace of Apollo, some of the most beautiful mosaics of the ancient Greek world are still visible, open to the Delian sky. If you look around the edges of this very website, you’ll see one of them!
Mosaic at the House of the Dolphins on Delos.
However, it was during the Roman Empire that mosaic making reached the height of sophistication.
Roman mosaics were characterized by their intricate designs, complex patterns, and use of a wide variety of materials. They were used to decorate the floors, walls, and ceilings of public buildings, such as temples, palaces, and baths, as well as private homes.
The range and beauty of Roman mosaics, as well as the skills of Roman mosaicists, really hit me when I was visiting the Bardo Museum in Tunis (Carthage) some years ago when doing research for Children of Apollo. Room after room contained mosaics that seemed to move upon the very walls and floors. To read about my visit to the Bardo Museum just CLICK HERE.
Roman mosaic representation of the months from North Africa
When it came to creating these intricate masterpieces, the techniques used by Roman mosaicists were highly sophisticated and involved a great deal of skill and precision.
Mosaics were created by laying small pieces of coloured stone, glass, or ceramic tiles, called tesserae, onto a bed of wet plaster. The tesserae were arranged to create intricate designs and patterns, and the finished mosaic was polished to create a smooth, even surface.
Roman mosaicists used a wide variety of materials to create their mosaics. The most commonly used materials were marble, limestone, and glass, which were all readily available in the Roman Empire. The tesserae were cut into small square or rectangular pieces, and were often arranged in intricate patterns and design.
Some mosaicist tools and materials
Roman mosaics were famous for their intricate designs and patterns, which often depicted scenes from mythology, nature, and everyday life. We learn a lot about the latter from mosaics! The designs were created by arranging the tesserae in a specific pattern, and it is believed they may have used drawings as a guide.
Some of the most famous Roman mosaics are the ones that depict scenes from mythology, such as the four seasons or the twelve signs of the zodiac. These mosaics often featured elaborate designs and intricate patterns, and were highly prized by the wealthy and powerful.
Mosaic depicting Roman country life and activities.
Roman mosaicists were highly skilled craftsmen who were revered for their artistry and technical skill. It is believed that they worked in workshops, where they would create mosaics for public and private buildings. Despite the survival of countless mosaics around the Mediterranean world, the actual names of these skilled mosaicists do not survive.
One of the few mosaicist’s names that have come down to us from the Roman world is the Greek artist Sosus of Pergamon, who created the famous “unswept floor” and “doves drinking at a bowl” mosaics.
Some mosaicists did sign their works, leaving behind their names for posterity. The famous mosaicist, Dioscurides of Samos, signed his name on a mosaic in Pompeii, ensuring his reputation would endure. However, the majority of mosaicists remain anonymous, as the focus was primarily on the artwork itself rather than the individual artist.
‘Doves drinking at a bowl’ mosaic by Sosus of Pergamon
Though we do not know many of their names, it is believed that mosaicists were highly respected in Roman society, and were often commissioned to create mosaics for the wealthy and powerful. They were also highly skilled in the use of colour and texture, and were able to create mosaics that were both beautiful and durable.
Roman mosaicists worked in specialized workshops where they would design and create their mosaics. These workshops were bustling centres of artistic activity, employing skilled artisans and apprentices who specialized in various aspects and stages of mosaic making from design to completion.
The mosaicists, often working in collaboration with architects and patrons, would create detailed sketches of the desired mosaic design. These sketches served as blueprints, guiding the placement of tesserae and ensuring the overall composition and proportions were accurate.
Mosaic of street performers by Dioscurides of Samos (Wikimedia Commons)
Once the design was finalized, the mosaicists would begin the painstaking process of selecting and cutting tesserae. They had to carefully choose stones, marbles, and glass pieces of various colours and textures to achieve the desired effect. The tesserae were then meticulously cut into uniform shapes, usually square or rectangular, using tools such as hammers and chisels.
To create a mosaic, the mosaicists would first prepare a flat surface by applying a layer of lime or gypsum plaster. This layer, known as the “bedding,” provided a stable base for the tesserae. Working in small sections, the mosaicists would apply a layer of wet mortar onto the bedding and carefully press the tesserae into it, one by one. They would often use special tools, such as tongs or tweezers, to ensure precise placement and alignment.
After the tesserae were set, the mosaicists would let the mortar dry and harden. Once the mosaic was solid, they would clean the surface and remove any excess mortar. The final step involved polishing the mosaic to achieve a smooth and lustrous finish. This was done by rubbing the surface with stones, sand, or even pieces of polished metal.
Preparing a mosaic bed
Roman mosaics displayed a wide range of themes and subjects, reflecting the cultural, mythological, and social context of the time. Mosaics were often used to depict scenes from mythology and history, showcasing the Romans’ deep appreciation for their ancestral stories and legendary heroes.
Mythological scenes featuring gods, goddesses, and mythical creatures were particularly popular. These mosaics brought ancient myths to life and adorned the walls and floors of temples, villas, and public spaces. The stories of the gods and heroes provided moral and religious lessons and connected the viewers with the divine.
Mosaic depicting Odysseus in the Bardo Museum
In addition to mythology, Roman mosaics also depicted scenes from daily life, nature, and the world around them. Mosaics with intricate floral patterns, animals, landscapes, and still-life compositions were abundant. They celebrated the beauty of the natural world and brought elements of the outdoors into interior spaces.
The legacy of Roman mosaicists can be seen in the numerous surviving mosaics that have withstood the test of time. These mosaics, found in archaeological sites, museums, and private collections around the world, continue to captivate and inspire audiences with their beauty and craftsmanship.
The Lod Mosaic
While the Roman Empire may have come to an end, the art of mosaic making has not faded into history. It continues to thrive in the modern world, with artisans and enthusiasts carrying on the ancient tradition.
Today, mosaicists draw inspiration from the techniques and designs of their Roman predecessors while incorporating contemporary styles and materials. They explore new possibilities by combining traditional tesserae with elements such as glass beads, ceramic tiles, and even recycled materials. Modern technology has also enhanced the craft, allowing for precise cutting and shaping of tesserae and the creation of intricate designs with computer-aided programs.
Gaudi’s Trencadis Mosaics at Sagrada Familia (source: Sagrada Familia blog)
Mosaic making has found its place not only in the realm of traditional art but also in contemporary architecture and public installations. Mosaics grace the facades of buildings, embellish public spaces, and adorn urban landscapes, adding colour, vibrancy, and cultural richness to our surroundings.
There are even mosaic-making workshops and schools offer opportunities for aspiring artists to learn the ancient techniques and develop their skills. Courses and classes provide a platform for creativity and artistic expression, ensuring that the art of mosaic making will continue to evolve and flourish. CLICK HERE for some recommended Greek and Roman mosaic making classes you can take today! Who knows? Maybe your work will adorn the floor of your home or a public space!
The art of mosaic making reached its height of sophistication during the Roman Empire, and Greek and Roman mosaicists produced some of the most beautiful and intricate mosaics in the world, the legacy of which can still be felt to this day.
Their names may have been forgotten, but their artistic creations live on!
Thank you for reading.
Aeneas and Dido mosaic from Low Ham Roman Villa near Ilchester
If you are interested in a wonderful historical fantasy series based around mosaic making in ancient Byzantium, I highly recommend Guy Gavriel Kay’s The Sarantine Mosaic duology which you can check out HERE.
Also, for those who are interested, the video below shows the mission to rescue the incredible mosaics at the ancient city of Zeugma along the Euphrates river. These mosaics are some of the most wonderful works of art to come out of the ancient world and are well worth seeing!
Welcome to the final post in The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we are taking a look at some of the research that went into our latest novel set in ancient Rome.
If you missed Part VIII on the theatre of Pompey, you can read that by CLICKING HERE.
In Part IX, we’re going to take a brief look at the ancient playwright whose work is central to the story of Sincerity is a Goddess: Plautus.
We hope you enjoy…
In misfortune if you cultivate a cheerful disposition you will reap the advantage of it.
– Plautus
Sincerity is a Goddess was always intended to be a comedy that involved the production of a play, but in the initial stages of research, one of the very first questions I had to pose myself was “What play?”
A lot hinged on the choice. Of course, when one thinks of ancient playwrights, one inevitably thinks of the great Greek playwrights, Aeschylus, Aristophanes, Euripides and others. But I knew that I wanted to use a Roman playwright’s work for this dramatic and romantic comedy, and so the choice inevitably came down to one between Terence and Plautus, the great comic playwrights of Republican Rome whose work was based on Greek New Comedy and subjects dealing with ordinary family life, love, and hilarity.
Terence’s plays are full of feeling. They are tender.
However, Plautus’ plays tended to be more comic and raucous with lots of music, songs, and duets that keep the audience at a distance. One might say that, in his time, Plautus had more popular appeal with the Roman people.
Let’s take a brief look at the man and his origins.
Plautus, who later became the great Roman comedy writer we know of, was originally from Sarsina, a town in northern Italy in Emilia-Romagna.
Early in his life, he moved to Rome where it is believed he worked at a trade in the theatre, either as a stage carpenter or scene-shifter. He also made money at some form of business, perhaps to do with shipping, but that business went under. He also worked as a baker, apparently.
The second century A.D. writer, Gellius, gives us some hints about Plautus’ life before fame:
Now there are in circulation under the name of Plautus about one hundred and thirty comedies; but that most learned of men Lucius Aelius thought that only twenty-five of them were his. However, there is no doubt that those which do not appear to have been written by Plautus but are attached to his name, were the work of poets of old but were revised and touched up by him, and that is why they savour of the Plautine style. Now Varro and several others have recorded that the Saturio, the Addictus, and a third comedy, the name of which I do not now recall, were written by Plautus in a bakery, when, after losing in trade all the money which he had earned in employments connected with the stage, he had returned penniless to Rome, and to earn a livelihood had hired himself out to a baker, to turn a mill, of the kind which is called a “push-mill.”
(Aulus Gellius, Attic Nights)
Luckily, his exposure to theatre is what got hold of him, and it seems that he began to write…and write…and write. We may not know much about Plautus’ personal life, but we are very fortunate indeed that much of his catalogue of plays survived the ages.
Plautine manuscript from 1530
Plautus wrote verse comedies, or fabulae palliatae which were based on Greek New Comedy, and he achieved huge success.
The plays of Plautus are the first substantial surviving written works in Latin and, no doubt thanks to the fact that they were so popular, they were copied frequently.
We know little about the man himself. Some hypothesized that even his name was not his true name and that ‘Maccius’ was actually a corruption of ‘Maccus’ the clown character in the Atellan farces, and that ‘Plautus’ meant ‘flat-foot’, referring to a character in the mimes. However, how many artists use stage names or pseudonyms? Lots, I’d say.
Though Plautus the man may be a mystery, we do know much about his extensive catalogue of works. It is not known exactly how many plays he wrote, but 21 have survived in their entirety, and there are fragments or mentions of an additional 30. In the quote above, Gellius alludes to many more as a possibility.
The metres of Plautus’ verse combined Greek metrical patterns with the stress patterns of the Latin language when spoken. But he went beyond simple translation.
Plautus adapted plays from Greek instead. He added much more music and songs, or cantica, like opera arias, then was normal in New Comedy. The performances were perhaps more like modern musicals which, in turn, partially owe their existence to Plautus’ work. Just think of A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum, by Stephen Sondheim. That musical is basically a great homage to Plautus!
Plautus’ plays appealed to Roman audiences because they presented a Latinized glimpse of Greek sophistication and outrageous behaviour that was outside of the audience’s experience. After all, theatre should be an escape!
Not by age but by capacity is wisdom acquired.
– Plautus
Plautus’ plays lacked the characterization and refinement of Greek New Comedy. His humour was more about jokes, verbal tricks, puns and alliteration that delighted the audience. He mastered the use of vulgarity, humour, and incongruity.
His stock characters were influenced by the Attelan farces, and included slaves, concubines, soldiers, and doddery old men. He created the ‘clever slave’ which would, in time, come to be known as a ‘Plautine Slave’. Often, the slave was smarter than his master, and even compared to a hero.
The plays involved everything from love and misunderstanding, to ghosts, rogues, tricksters, and braggarts who get humiliated in the end. Plautus only wrote one play based on myth, his Amphitruo. The rest of his plays portray the lives of more everyday people who his audiences could, more or less, relate to.
The Menaechmi itself is a comedy of errors about twins separated in infancy, in a Greek setting with numerous Roman references.
Not only did Plautus adapt Greek plays, he expanded on them and modified them in such a way that he made Greek theatre Roman!
Because he was a man of the people, having experienced their same toils, Plautus’ plays touched a nerve that made them extremely popular. They were performed for centuries after his death, well into the Renaissance, and his work was extremely influential on such greats as William Shakespeare (Comedy of Errors) and Moliere, who made use of many Plautine elements.
Like many comedians to this day, however, Plautus was not immune to criticism. Playwrights have always been rebels. The more conservative elements in Rome accused him of disrespecting the gods because his characters were sometimes compared to the gods either in mockery or praise. Sometimes, his characters even scorned the gods!
Some believe that Plautus was simply reflecting the changing tide of Roman society. He may have been controversial, but not enough to ban or prosecute him. Roman politicians were always keenly aware of the mood of the mob.
Artist impression of the Second Macedonian War
Conquered, we conquer.
-Plautus
War is a subject that seems constant throughout history. We are certainly aware of it today (sadly), as were Plautus and the Roman people.
During Plautus’ lifetime, the Roman people endured three great wars: the Second Punic War against Hannibal, and the First and Second Macedonian Wars against Philip V and Greece.
With the Second Punic War, the Roman Republic and people were fighting for their lives with the enemy being literally at their gates at one point. When it finally ended, they were exhausted by war, tired of it.
When certain powers in Rome wished to wage a successive war on Greece and Philip V of Macedon, the Roman people were not as supportive, and Plautus reflected these popular, anti-war sentiments in his plays such as Miles Gloriosus, and Stichus.
Many Romans did not want another war, and Plautus championed them in a way by giving voice to their anti-war voices and touching on themes of economic hardship forced on the citizens by the wars.
Sounds strangely familiar to us today, doesn’t it?
One could say that the greatest contribution of Plautus’ work, his genius even, was to take up the cause of the average Roman through comedy.
He was saying that the state should take care of its suffering people at home before undertaking military actions abroad.
We should bear in mind too that at this time in Roman history, when the Roman Republic was expanding and gathering power, Roman theatre was still in its infancy.
Plautus broke new ground in Rome. He made the people laugh, but he also gave them an important voice.
Since he has passed to the grave, for Plautus Comedy sorrows;
Now is the stage deserted; and Play, and Jesting, and Laughter,
Dirges, though written in numbers yet numberless, join in lamenting.
– Epitaph for Plautus, attributed to Plautus by Gellius and Varro
We have but scratched the surface of Plautus’ life and plays. Little more is known of him personally but, as with any writer, we can perhaps discern something of the man from the stories he put into the world.
There can be no doubt that the Roman world mourned his death on some level, as is attested by the moving epitaph shared by his fellow writers.
In a sense though, because so much of his work has survived time, and continues to be performed, to influence other art, Plautus is perhaps one of the most immortal of Romans.
Renaissance representation of Plautus
The plays of Plautus are fun to read, even today, and I would encourage you to delve into them.
For my part, I truly enjoyed reading and re-reading the Menaechmi, and by incorporating it into Sincerity is a Goddess, by diving deep into the study of it, it has given me a new and wonderful insight into Roman theatre, and the man who was truly the playwright of the Roman people.
Thank you for reading.
Well, that is the end of The World of Sincerity is a Goddess. The curtain has fallen (or risen out of the ground, as was the case in Roman theatres!).
We hope you have enjoyed this blog series, and that you enjoy Sincerity is a Goddess if you read it. If you have read it, please leave a review on the Eagles and Dragons Publishing website or on the store where you purchased the book. Reviews are a wonderful way for new readers to find this dramatic and romantic comedy of ancient Rome!
If you missed any of the posts in this nine-part blog series, you can read all of them on one web page by CLICKING HERE.
Sincerity is a Goddess is available in hardcover, paperback, and ebook from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortar chains, and your local public library.
CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN#s for the edition of your choice.
The Gods are Smiling!
