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THE WORLD OF JUBA II AND
KLEOPATRA SELENE
THE WORLD OF JUBA II
AND KLEOPATRA SELENE
Royal scholarship on Rome’s African frontier
Duane W. Roller
First published 2003
by Routledge
29 West 35th Street, New York, NY 10001
Simultaneously published in the UK
by Routledge
11 New Fetter Lane, London EC4P 4EE
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group
This edition published in the Taylor & Francis e-Library, 2004.
© 2003 Duane W. Roller
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced
or utilized in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means,
now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording,
or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in
writing from the publishers.
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
A catalog record for this book has been requested
British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data
A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 0-203-32192-8 Master e-book ISBN
Introduction 1
2 Mauretania 39
4 Kleopatra Selene 76
8 Libyka 183
10 On Arabia 227
v
CONTENTS
Epilogue 257
Appendix 1: The published works of Juba II 261
Appendix 2: Stemmata 264
Appendix 3: Client kingship 267
Bibliography 276
List of passages cited 310
Index 319
vi
ILLUSTRATIONS
Figures
1 The Numidian marble quarries at Chemtou (Tunisia) 13
2 The site of Zama, looking southwest from Kbor Klib 37
3 Tarraco (modern Tarragona), where Juba II was named king 99
4 Caesarea: theater 122
5 Caesarea: site of forum 124
6 Caesarea: view of offshore island, with site of palace in
foreground 125
7 Caesarea: site of palace and view south across city 126
8 The Oued Bellah aqueduct bridge, east of Caesarea 128
9 The Mauretanian Royal Mausoleum 129
10 Volubilis: view of site from the east 131
11 Sala: view northeast across forum 134
12 Lixos: view south across center of site 134
13 Garum factory on the Atlantic coast of Mauretania, at the site
said to be Cotta 135
14 Tingis and the view northeast across to Spain 136
15 Portrait bust of Juba I, from Cherchel 140
16 Gilded silver dish from Boscoreale, perhaps representing
Kleopatra Selene 141
17 Petubastes IV, from Cherchel 143
18 Cuirass statue, probably of Augustus, from Cherchel 145
19 Portrait bust of Juba II, from Rome 147
20 Ptolemaios of Mauretania, from Cherchel 149
21 The “Purple Islands” at Mogador (Essaouira) 185
22 The Canary Islands: ancient Ninguaria (modern Tenerife) 186
23 The High Atlas 186
24 The canyon of the Ziz River, perhaps Juba’s “upper Nile” 195
25 Numidian and Mauretanian coins 245
a Bilingual bronze coin of Juba I with temple on the reverse
b Reverse of above
vii
ILLUSTRATIONS
Maps
1 Northwest Africa, 146–46 BC 40
2 Northwest Africa, 25 BC–AD 41 101
3 Caesarea at the time of the client monarchy 120
4 The southern half of the known world in the Augustan period 184
viii
PREFACE
ix
PREFACE
What follows is not only the first examination of their lives and careers in
English but the first analytical critique of the king both as an implementer of
the Augustan program and as a notable scholar in his own right. Indeed,
within half a century of his death he was commemorated as one whose schol-
arship was more significant than his kingship. But his writings have largely
been ignored – beyond the collecting of the fragments of his works – and he
has been considered as little more than yet another ancient author whose
output has not survived. Likewise, his role as king, however inferior to his
impact as historian, explorer, and geographer, has tended to be analyzed in a
colonialist context, the defender of Roman civilization against the barbarians,
rather than as a crucial factor in the multiculturalism that was the Roman
Empire. Juba was a romanized Numidian married to a wife who was half
Greek and half Roman, and this background remains a significant part of his
outlook. This is especially apparent in the cultural richness of the court at
Mauretanian Caesarea, whose diversity exceeded that of the more restricted
ethnic milieus of the other client kingdoms. It is becoming increasingly
obvious today that ethnic interaction was one of the most powerful cultural
factors in ancient society: this has been dramatically demonstrated by Nikos
Kokkinos in his recent study of the Herodian family.1
It was Glen Bowersock who many years ago introduced the present author
to Juba and Kleopatra Selene. Interest further developed from study of Herod
the Great and awareness of the complexity of his world, leading to the com-
prehension that the Augustan era was one of rich and diverse cultural factors
running far beyond the traditional understanding of this period. Even the
fragmentary authors of Greco-Roman antiquity deserve analysis, and it
became clear that Juban studies needed to move beyond the colonialist per-
spectives of the first half of the twentieth century. Juba was both scholar and
king, and any study of his career must attend to both of these roles. Kleopatra
Selene was queen and her mother’s heir, and in many ways an implementer of
Juba’s kingship and scholarship. But what follows is not a biography: rather,
it is a cultural analysis of personalities and the world that produced them and
upon which they had impact. Individuals cannot be separated from their
environment, and truly to understand creativity one must attempt to absorb
what the creative individual was thinking, saw, and experienced, during both
the crucially formative years of adolescence and the time of productivity. The
friends of his youth, his teachers and colleagues, the books in his library, the
intellectual background of his spouse, and indeed the view from his study are
all components of Juba’s intellectual processes and collectively determined
the ideas he thought and the words he set down.
1 Kokkinos, Herodian Dynasty. Even as early as the fifth century BC, questions were being raised as to
the meaning of ethnicity. Herodotos (1.146–7) was well aware that claims of ethnic purity or
superiority could be manipulated to create a false impression. See, further, for a good discussion of
modern scholarship and its attitude toward ethnicity, Jeremy McInerney, The Folds of Parnassos:
Land and Ethnicity in Ancient Phokis (Austin: University of Texas Press, 1999), pp. 8–39.
x
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The author would like to thank the Harvard College Library, the Stanford Uni-
versity Library, the Blegan Library of the University of Cincinnati, the Library
of the University of California at Berkeley, the Library of the University of
Michigan at Ann Arbor, and the Library of the Ohio State University, at which
much of the research for this project was completed. Special thanks are due to
the Trustees of the British Museum, especially the Department of Coins and
Medals. The project was supported by a Fellowship for University Teachers
from the National Endowment for the Humanities. Several research grants
from the Ohio State University were also of great assistance. Although not
originally intended for this purpose, a Fulbright Senior Lecturing Award to
India in 1995 helped the author in understanding the relationships between
that region and the Mediterranean, an essential part of Juba’s environment.
Extended visits to Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia, as well as the Levant, were
valuable in comprehending the physical world of the Mauretanian client
kingdom: particular appreciation is due to all those who assisted in the May
2001 trip to Mauretanian Caesarea and its environs, especially Nacèra Bensed-
dik. David C. Braund, Charles L. Babcock, John Eadie, David Potter, and
A. E. K. Vail graciously read the manuscript in its entirety and made many
valuable suggestions. For supplying photographs and the permission to use
them, the author would like to thank M. Chuzeville, P. Chuzeville, and Ch.
Larrieu (Musée du Louvre), Christa Landwehr, the Ny Carlsberg Glyptotek,
Yamouna Rebahi (Musée de Cherchel), E. Kleinefenn (Paris), the Agence
Nationale d’Archéologie (Algiers), the British Museum, and the late Duane
H. D. Roller. Among the many others who were of aid in bringing the project
to completion were Neil Adams, Andrew Meadows, Judith Swaddling, and
Susan Walker of the British Museum; Sally-Ann Ashton; Glen Bowersock;
Deborah Burks; Donna Distel; Lakhdar Drias, Director of the National
Museum of Antiquities, Algiers; Elizabeth Fentress; Sabah Ferdi; Klaus
Fittschen; Nikos Kokkinos; Philippe Leveau; Wolf-R. Megow; Krzysztof
Nawotka; Letitia K. Roller; Kathy Stedke; Richard Stoneman and many others
at Routledge; Kate Toll; Susan Treggiari; the late Jerry Vardaman; and Wendy
Watkins and the Ohio State University Center for Epigraphical Studies.
xi
ABBREVIATIONS
xii
ABBREVIATIONS
xiii
ABBREVIATIONS
xiv
ABBREVIATIONS
Numider: Die Numider: Reiter und Könige nördlich der Sahara, ed. Heinz Günter
Horn and Christoph B. Rüger (Cologne 1979)
OCD: Oxford Classical Dictionary, third edition (Oxford 1997)
OGIS: Orientis Graeci inscriptiones selectae
OJA: Oxford Journal of Archaeology
OLD: Oxford Latin Dictionary (Oxford 1982)
OxyPap: The Oxyrhynchus Papyri, ed. Bernard P. Grenfell and Arthur S. Hunt
(London 1898–)
PACA: Proceedings of the African Classical Associations
PBSR: Papers of the British School at Rome
PCG: Poetae Comici Graeci, ed. R. Kassel and C. Austin (Berlin 1983–)
PCPS: Proceedings of the Cambridge Philological Society
PECS: The Princeton Encyclopedia of Classical Sites
PEQ: Palestine Exploration Quarterly
PIR: Prosopographia imperii romani
PP: La parola del passato
QS: Quaderni di Storia (Bari)
RA: Revue archéologique
RAfr: Revue africaine
RAssyr: Revue d’assyriologie et d’archéologie orientale
RE: Pauly-Wissowa, Real-Encyclopädie der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft
RÉA: Revue des études anciennes
RÉG: Revue des études grecques
RÉL: Revue des études latines
RGM: Revue de géographie du Maroc
RHCM: Revue d’histoire et de civilisation du Maghreb
RHist: Revue historique
RIDA: Revue international des droits de l’antiquité
Ritter, Rom: Hans Werner Ritter, Rom und Numidien: Untersuchungen zur
rechtlichen Stellung abhängiger Könige (Lüneburg 1987)
RM: Mitteilungen des Deutschen Archäologischen Instituts, Römische Abteilung
RN: Revue numismatique
Roller, Herod: Duane W. Roller, The Building Program of Herod the Great
(Berkeley, Calif., 1998)
Romanelli, Storia: Pietro Romanelli, Storia delle province romane dell’Africa,
Studi pubblicati dall’Istituto Italiano per la Storia Antica 14 (Rome
1959)
SchwMbll: Schweizer Münzblätter
SEG: Supplementum epigraphicum graecum
SIG: Sylloge inscriptionum graecarum (Leipzig 1883–)
StMagr: Studi Magrebini
Sullivan, Near Eastern Royalty: Richard D. Sullivan, Near Eastern Royalty and
Rome, 100–30 BC, Phoenix Supplementary Volume 24 (Toronto 1990)
SymbOslo: Symbolae Osloenses
xv
ABBREVIATIONS
xvi
INTRODUCTION
Juba II1 was born about 48 BC, the son of King Juba I of Numidia, the terri-
tory south and west of Carthage. Within two years he was an orphan and
had been removed to Rome as a captive, displayed in the African triumph of
Julius Caesar in 46 BC. Why this happened is connected with the convoluted
and lengthy history of the Roman relationship with Africa and the impact of
the Roman civil wars. The royalty of Numidia had been involved in Roman
affairs for over 150 years. Juba’s great-great-great-grandfather, the erudite
warrior king Massinissa, was a follower of Scipio Africanus and lived to the
age of 90, surviving both the Second and the Third Punic Wars and presid-
ing over a notable and cultured court. Massinissa’s grandson – Juba’s great-
great-uncle – was the famous Jugurtha, who had his own complex
relationship with Rome. Juba’s grandfather Hiempsal was a historian, and
his father, Juba I, had come to Rome on a Numidian embassy in the 80s BC,
only to be insulted and assaulted by the young Julius Caesar, which meant
that when Juba I became king he naturally gravitated toward the faction of
Gaius Pompeius.
1 PIR2 I65. The name is inevitably “Iuba” in Latin, whether in literature or on inscriptions or coins. In
Greek, 'IÒbaj is the usual form (occasionally 'IÒba), but Strabo and Dio used 'IoÚbaj. Inscriptions
are not consistent: IG 31.555, 936 and 2–32.3436 have 'IoÚbaj but OGIS 198 has 'IÒbaj; yet all are
from Athens and roughly contemporary with the king himself. Despite the general prevalence of
'IÒbaj in Greek, two sources in personal contact with Juba, Strabo and the commissioners of IG
2–32.3436, used 'IoÚbaj. This is more in conformity with the Latin and may have been the form
actually preferred by the king. His father’s Punic coin legends have the equivalent of “Iobai” (Figure
25b, p. 245; Mazard #84–93), perhaps closer to the common Greek 'IÒbaj, and all Greek sources
have this form for Juba I. The spelling 'IoÚbaj used by Strabo, Dio, and the Athenians for Juba II
may have been transliterated from Latin.
It is possible that Juba was not the name given to the son of Juba I by his parents. Unlike many of
the Greek dynasties, the Numidian royal family did not tend to use the same name. In the ten
known generations (nearly thirty individuals), names repeat only on two occasions other than Juba I
and II: the two Hiempsals and the two Massinissas (Appendix 2, Stemma B). In both cases the rela-
tionship is not close: the former were cousins (thus Hiempsal II was not a direct descendant of
Hiempsal I) and the latter five generations apart, Massinissa II being a petty chieftain who probably
took the name of his illustrious ancestor. Thus it is probable that Juba II, his actual name unknown,
was given his father’s name by the Romans.
1
INTRODUCTION
Juba I had great plans for a North African empire, but these collapsed
after the death of Pompeius, and he was defeated by Caesar at Thapsus and
committed suicide: hence his infant son appeared in the triumph in the
summer of 46 BC. Although some of those in the triumph were executed, a
decision was made to spare young Juba, for reasons that are not clear. By the
time of Caesar’s death two years later, Juba was handed over to one of
Caesar’s relatives and eventually ended up in the household of his grandniece
Octavia. Here he grew up along with the other children of the emergent
imperial family, being particularly close to Marcellus and Tiberius, who
were near his age. Although as a barbarian Juba did not have the status that
the Roman children had, Augustus strongly believed that foreign children
within his extended family were to be treated as natural-born ones, and at
some time Juba was given Roman citizenship.
As a young man growing up in an aristocratic Roman household, Juba
received the best contemporary education, specializing in linguistics, Roman
history, natural history, and the arts. It seems likely that he had contact
with scholars such as Varro and Dionysios of Halikarnassos. Strabo of
Amaseia seems to have been a particularly close teacher or fellow student.
Juba also learned about his own ancestral heritage through the Numidian
exile communities in Rome. African culture of another sort became available
after 30 BC when the children of Marcus Antonius and Kleopatra VII became
part of Octavia’s family, bringing with them a substantial entourage and
much information about the world of the Ptolemies.
By this time Juba would have been nearly 20, and although it is not clear
what life was being planned for him, his talents as a scholar were being
recognized as he published his first works. His literary career probably began
with the Roman Archaeology, perhaps reflecting the influence of Dionysios of
Halikarnassos. Its two books covered the vast range from the mythological
foundation of Italy to at least the Spanish wars of the second century BC, but
it seems to have emphasized elements that were of particular relevance to the
Augustan era, such as the ancient cults that were being rejuvenated, and the
relationship between Rome and Africa. Although the subject of Roman
origins was a common one for the period, Juba’s version gained respect for
reliability, especially in his handling of early material.
Another youthful work is the Omoiotetes (Resemblances or Equivalences), a
linguistic composition whose goal was to prove the Greek origin of the Latin
language, another topical concern in Augustan Rome. It too seems to have
focused on early cultic matters, especially terminology. Fifteen books are
known, an incredible length contrasted with the scantiness of the
Archaeology. It is thus possible that there has been a confusion of titles
and that both are the same lengthy work on Roman history, cult, and
linguistics.
Juba also wrote On Painting, a derivative critique of works visible in
contemporary Rome, and a Theatrical History, whose emphasis seems to have
2
INTRODUCTION
3
INTRODUCTION
of Antonius, she was too dangerous either to execute or to keep in Rome, and
Augustus must have felt that the ideal solution to this problem was to send
her to Mauretania as Juba’s wife. She brought her rich Ptolemaic heritage to
the kingdom, and, presumably, her mother’s skill and determination. She
married Juba late in 25 BC; Krinagoras of Mytilene wrote an epigram for the
occasion. The royal couple then departed for Iol, Bocchus’ old capital, which,
in the emerging fashion of the era, was promptly renamed Caesarea.
The monarchs ruled together for the next twenty years, and Juba alone for
nearly thirty more, controlling a vast territory from Roman Africa to the
Atlantic, the largest and probably the most amorphous of the client king-
doms. Much of the time was spent in defending the frontier, not always suc-
cessfully. Barbarian incursions were a constant threat, part of the
never-ending conflicts between populations with different cultures and out-
looks; Roman military assistance became an early and constant feature of
the reign. But Juba and Kleopatra Selene were also assiduous in bringing
Mauretania into the imperial economic sphere: the kingdom produced vast
amounts of grain, fish, garum, purple dye, and timber for export to Italy. A
long series of cornucopia coins shows that Juba saw the kingdom as one of
the economic mainstays of the empire. He fostered close relationships with
Spain and was even appointed city magistrate at two Spanish cities.
At Caesarea, Juba and Kleopatra Selene developed a rich court that com-
bined Roman, Ptolemaic, and indigenous African elements. Saturn, the frugifer
deus, seems to have been a chief divinity, along with Herakles (whose last labor
was localized in Mauretania and who was said to have been an ancestor of both
the monarchs), and of course the imperial cult. Building on his acquisition of
the Carthaginian state library from the heirs of the historian Sallust, Juba
created one of the best royal libraries and attracted scholars and artists:
although the few extant names are obscure, they include the court tragedian
Leonteus of Argos, the botanist and physician Euphorbos, the historians
Asarubas and Cornelius Bocchus, and the gemcutter Gnaios. Kleopatra Selene
brought her own entourage, refugees from her mother’s court, which would
further have heightened the multiculturalism of Caesarea. There was continu-
ing contact with Augustan Rome and with the developing Augustan intellec-
tual circle: Juba was constantly sending information to Marcus Agrippa for his
map of the Roman world. Caesarea was probably a richer, more diverse
environment than any of the eastern courts.
Scholar that he was, Juba immediately set out to explore and study his
territory. Expeditions were sent into the High Atlas, the Sahara, and the
Atlantic. His commentary on Hanno had already interested him in the west
coast of Africa, and he became familiar with other explorations, such as the
Carthaginian circumnavigation of the continent, and those of Eudoxos of
Kyzikos, who had had good reason to believe that India could be reached
from West Africa. Juba’s explorations resulted in the two most enduring
legacies of his scholarship. In the High Atlas he discovered a type of spurge
4
INTRODUCTION
that he named euphorbion after his physician, writing a treatise on it, the
basis for the modern botanical family Euphorbiaceae and genus Euphorbia.
He also explored islands in the Atlantic noted for their large dogs, which he
named in Greek but which are known today from Pliny’s Latin as the
Canaries.
Juba also began work on a major treatise titled Libyka that would
examine all of North Africa outside Lower Egypt. It outlined not only the
history, geography, and natural history of his territories but also other issues
of increasing concern to the king, such as direct access to East Africa and
India from Mauretania. Building on Ptolemaic explorations of the upper
Nile, he concluded that the river originated in Mauretania, to Juba a politic-
ally correct idea, and one that lasted well into the nineteenth century. The
surviving fragments of Libyka include a diversity of subjects, but one of
special importance is the discussion of the North African elephant, the
major source of information for this now extinct animal.
Libyka was probably published around 5 BC. Augustus was impressed
enough to include Juba as geographical adviser on the eastern expedition of
his grandson Gaius Caesar, which set forth in 2 BC. The king was one of
several distinguished staff members: his decision to go was made easier by
the fact that he had recently become a widower. He traveled with Gaius
from Antioch to Gaza and inland to Petra and the fringes of Arabia, and
then back to Antioch, all the time gathering material for his next work, On
Arabia. He had left the expedition before Gaius fatally encountered the
Armenians, instead joining his fellow client king Archelaos of Kappadokia
at his court city of Elaioussa-Sebaste and completing On Arabia in its
library. On Arabia extended the concept of Libyka to the east, and together
the two works were an examination of the southern half of the known world,
from the Atlantic to India. Although much of the treatise is concerned with
Arabia, especially the commercial and trade exports of the peninsula –
information obtained in the markets of Gaza and Petra – emphasis is on a
related Augustan concern, the routes to India and their economic potential.
Juba had long been interested in this topic, both in his search for the
Atlantic route to India and in his decision extend the scope of Libyka into
East Africa, a region even today frequented by Indian merchants. But
Augustus’ interest in reopening Indian trade had not been paralleled by
recent scholarly examination, and there had been little material added since
the time of Alexander the Great. Indian trade had flourished under the
Ptolemies but had collapsed with the fall of that dynasty, and Juba, with his
Ptolemaic contacts, his published knowledge of East Africa, and his general
expertise in trade and exploration, was the natural scholar to research the
topic.
While he was in residence at the court of Archelaos, Juba’s personal life
took an unexpected turn. Here he met and married Glaphyra, Archelaos’
daughter, another dynamic eastern princess, and recently widowed from a
5
INTRODUCTION
son of Herod the Great. Clearly Archelaos and Juba had grandiose dynastic
plans for linking East and West, but for some reason the marriage did not
last. Despite Augustus’ regular favor of intermarriages between royal famil-
ies, he might well have disapproved of this sudden connection between the
two most powerful client kings, and when major barbarian incursions at
home caused Juba to rush back to Mauretania, he divorced Glaphyra and
went alone.
When Juba returned home, perhaps around AD 3, he began to show the
signs of age, writing no more and embarking on no more expeditions.
Approaching 60, he handed over many affairs of state to his son Ptolemaios,
the last royal bearer of that illustrious name, who appears on coins from AD 5
and seems to have been raised to virtually equal rule sometime after AD 11.
Ptolemaios’ regnal years began around AD 17–21; in the former year, the
great rebellion of Tacfarinas broke out. This went on for over six years and
required major Roman intervention; although Roman Africa was more
threatened than Mauretania, Juba and Ptolemaios were also heavily
involved. In the midst of the uprising, in AD 23 or 24, Juba died, in his early
seventies. Ptolemaios helped bring the rebellion to conclusion and was vali-
dated as king by the Roman senate.
Little is known about Ptolemaios’ reign, although he clearly did not have
the stature and intellect of his father. He may have been educated in Athens
and was honored at the Gymnasion of Ptolemaios there, which had been
built by an ancestor. But as a grandson of Antonius he fell victim to the
power politics within the imperial family. He seems to have lacked his
father’s diplomacy and incautiously flaunted his power and independence.
Eventually his cousin, the emperor Gaius Caligula, summoned him to Rome
for an explanation. What happened next is obscure, but the situation deteri-
orated and Ptolemaios was suddenly executed. At worst, it was another
example of the emperor’s hostile treatment of his relatives; at best, his
erratic reaction to Ptolemaios’ seemingly inappropriate behavior as a client
king. In any case, this meant the end of the kingdom, as Ptolemaios had no
heir, and the territory was provincialized by Claudius.
2 The major inscriptions are collected in Coltelloni-Trannoy, pp. 218–19. Most important is CIL
2.3417 (⫽ILS 840), from Carthago Nova in Spain, where Juba held a magistracy, which provides
details of his ancestry. Others include CIL 3.8927, 9257, 9342; IG 31.549, 555, 936; and IG
2–32.3436.
6
INTRODUCTION
eastern campaign of Gaius Caesar to Arabia in which he and Juba took part,
but did not mention Juba.3 Strabo of Amaseia, a friend and schoolmate of the
king, made several casual references, probably written just after Juba’s death,
but did not seem to have access to his scholarly output.4 The bulk of the
material about the king’s life and career comes from standard sources for the
Augustan period, especially Appian, Dio, Josephus, Plutarch, and Tacitus,5
which are enough to construct the basic outline of his life, but all are brief and
scattered, and few mention Kleopatra Selene. Another contemporary source is
the art and architecture of the royal city of Caesarea and other sites in the
Mauretanian kingdom. Further, there is the large number of coins that both
Juba and Kleopatra Selene issued, separately and jointly. Kleopatra Selene had
autonomous powers of coinage, and occasionally even honored her mother on
her coins. These are especially useful in providing contemporary visual por-
traits of the sovereigns and elements of the material culture of their kingdom,
particularly their architecture and royal symbols.6
The earliest extant authors to quote Juba’s works were Dioskourides and
perhaps Pomponius Mela, both in the middle of the first century AC (after
Christ).7 Over 100 fragments of the king’s writings survive, some quite
lengthy, which also provide a certain amount of information about his life.8
Nearly half are found in the Natural History of Pliny the Elder, written forty
to fifty years after Juba’s death; much of Pliny’s material on northwestern
Africa, the upper Nile, the Red Sea, and Arabia originates with Juba.9 Many
of the remaining fragments come from two additional authors: Plutarch,
who used Juba’s Roman Archaeology as a source for early Roman history, and
Athenaios, whose interests were in drama, the theater, and linguistics.10
Other sources for the works of Juba include Aelian, Ammianus Marcellinus,
Lucius Ampelius, Avienus, Galen, Harpokration, Philostratos, Photios,
3 Velleius 2.101–4.
4 Strabo 6.4.2; 17.3.7, 12, 25.
5 Appian, Civil War 2.101; Dio 51.15.6, 53.26.2, 55.28.3–4; Josephus, Jewish Antiquities 17.349–50;
Jewish Wars 2.115; Plutarch, Antonius 87; Caesar 55.1–2; Sulla 16.8; Sertorius 9.5; Tacitus, Annals 4.5.
6 Much has been written about the coinage, and many of the relevant articles are cited in the following
text. The most thorough publication is Jean Mazard, Corpus Nummorum Numidiae Mauretaniaeque
(Paris: Arts et Métiers Graphiques, 1955); see also Jacques Alexandropoulos, Les Monnaies de l’Afrique
Antique, 400 av. J.-C. – 40 ap. J.-C. (Toulouse: Presses Universitaires du Mirail, 2000), pp. 213–44,
413–35.
7 Dioskourides 3.82; Pomponius Mela 1.30. The recent suggestion that Vitruvius quoted Juba’s
Libyka is implausible: see further, infra, p. 183, note 2).
8 These are collected as FGrHist #275. Because of Felix Jacoby’s policy of considering as a fragment
only those citations that actually name the author (on this, see FGrHist 4a1, pp. xii–xiii), it is prob-
able that the surviving fragments of Juba’s works, especially in Books 5 and 6 of Pliny’s Natural
History and Book 4 of the Deipnosophistai of Athenaios, are far more extensive than the occasional
point at which the king is mentioned.
9 Juba, fr. 1–3, 28–44, 54, 57–60, 62–9, 72–9.
10 The major citations are Plutarch, Romulus 14, 15, 17; Numa 7, 13; Roman Questions 4, 24, 59, 78, 89;
and Athenaios 1.15, 3.83, 98, 4.170, 175–85, 8.343, 14.660.
7
INTRODUCTION
Quintilian, and Tatian.11 Athenaios and Aelian, both active around AD 200,
seem to be the last to have quoted Juba directly and at length. His actual
writings were probably lost shortly after that time, and later citations in
various Byzantine lexica are derivative.
Modern interest began in the mid-nineteenth century with Konrad
Müller’s identification and publication of ninety-one fragments of Juba’s
writings12 and the appearance of a number of German dissertations,13 more
collations of the fragments than critiques. A slightly more critical attitude
was displayed by Hermann Peter in the 1870s,14 and in 1883 the first
French study of Juba appeared.15 Yet throughout the century, more
emphasis was placed on Juba as a fragmentary author than as a cultural
figure, although he was early recognized as significant in the history of geo-
graphy.16
When the French colonial presence was established in northern Africa
late in the century, interest turned toward the physical remnants of Juba’s
territories. A museum had been founded at Cherchel in Algeria, Juba’s Cae-
sarea, as early as 1856, and rudimentary excavations began in 1876.17 Much
of the early explorations were directed toward the physical evidence for early
Christianity, but nonetheless this resulted in the discovery of numerous
inscriptions that illuminated the world of Juba II and Kleopatra Selene.
Although excavations have continued until recent times, physical remnants
of the Roman client kingdom continue to be scant and disputed. A similar
situation exists at Volubilis in Morocco, the monarchs’ western capital,
where excavations have continued since 1884, but where most of the visible
remains are from the late flourishing of the city, particularly the Severan
period.18
Nevertheless, the early years of the twentieth century saw an increasing
awareness of Juba in both France and Germany. Felix Jacoby published the
first detailed study of the king in 1916.19 Although still within a narrowly
historical context, this approached Juba as more than merely a fragmentary
11 Aelian, On the Characteristics of Animals 7.23; 9.58; 15.8; Ammianus Marcellius 22.15.8; Lucius
Ampelius, Liber memorialis 38.1.4; Avienus, Ora maritima 275–83; Galen 13.271 (Kühn); Harpokra-
tion, “Parrhasios,” “Polygnotos”; Philostratos, Life of Apollonios 2.13, 16; Photios 161.103a, 104b;
Quintilian 6.3.90; Tatian, Oration to the Greeks 36.
12 FHG 3.465–84.
13 In particular, Wenceslaus Plagge, De Juba II rege Mauretaniae (Münster, F. Regensburg, 1849); and L.
Keller, De Juba Appiani Cassiique Dionis auctore (Marburg: N. G. Elwert, 1872).
14 Hermann Peter, Ueber den Werth der historichen Schriftstellerei von König Juba II von Mauretanien ( Jahres-
bericht über die Fürsten- und Landesschule Meissen 1878–9, pp. 1–14).
15 Maria-Renatus de la Blanchère, De rege Juba regis Jubae filio (Paris: E. Thorin, 1883).
16 E. H. Bunbury, A History of Ancient Geography (second edition, London: John Murray, 1883), vol. 2,
pp. 174–6.
17 Leveau, Caesarea, pp. 1–3.
18 Jodin, Volubilis, pp. 10–12.
19 RE 9, 1916, 2384–95.
8
INTRODUCTION
20 FGrHist #275. It is Jacoby’s fragment numbering that is used throughout the present work.
21 See the review of vols. 7–8 (the period after the fall of Carthage) by Jérôme Carcapino, “L’Afrique au
dernier siècle de la république romaine,” RHist 162, 1929, 86–95.
22 On the problems of colonialist interpretations of the history of this region and the attempts to move
beyond them, see David J. Mattingly, “From One Colonialism to Another: Imperialism and the
Maghreb,” in Roman Imperialism: Post-colonial Perspectives, ed. Jane Webster and Nicolas J. Cooper,
Leicester Archaeological Monographs 3, 1996, pp. 49–69.
23 See, for example, Ronald Syme, The Roman Revolution, paperback edition (Oxford: Oxford University
Press, 1960), pp. 300, 365–6, which, although written before the Second World War, reflects the
attitudes in place in the immediate postwar years.
24 A good recent study of the issues of romanization in the postcolonial context of modern scholarship is
Greg Woolf, “Beyond Romans and Natives,” WA 28, 1996–7, 339–50; see also Jane Webster, “Cre-
olizing the Roman Provinces,” AJA 105, 2001, 209–25.
25 For example, the work of David Braund, especially his Rome and the Friendly King.
26 Roller, Herod, p. 252. Michèle Coltelloni-Trannoy’s Le Royaume de Maurétanie sous Juba II et Ptolémée
(Paris: CNRS, 1997), while a significant addition to Juban studies and the most complete treatment
since that of Gsell, is narrowly focused on the king within his kingdom, paying no attention to his
impact as scholar and explorer. On other limitations (which do not diminish its value), see the review
by Brent D. Shaw, Gnomon 72, 2000, 422–5. See also the recent examination of Juba’s kingdom by
Ramsay MacMullen, Romanization in the Time of Augustus (New Haven, Conn.: Yale University Press,
2000), pp. 42–4, which, although brief, is an incisive and precise summary.
9
INTRODUCTION
Dependency on extant sources means that the actual form of the personal
name used by its owner may be unfamiliar or even unknown. Nonetheless,
proper names are generally transliterated directly from Greek or Latin into
English except for a few that have common English forms (e.g. Athens,
Egypt). “Ptolemy” is used for the geographer but the more accurate “Ptole-
maios” for royal personages, and “Alexander” for Alexander the Great but
“Alexandros” for all others. The names of the indigenous royalty of North
Africa have been presented in their Greek or Latin forms, since often they
are known only through classical sources.
Juba’s reign began in the second half of the year,27 so his dated coins refer
to a regnal year that, roughly, runs from autumn to autumn: e.g. Year 1 is
from autumn 25 to autumn 24 BC and Juba’s death in regnal Year 48
occurred between autumn AD 23 and autumn AD 24. For convenience, only
the calendar year in effect at the beginning of the regnal year is used herein.
27 Infra, p. 100.
10
1
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
Juba II was descended from a long line of distinguished ancestors who had
been involved in Roman politics for nearly two hundred years prior to his
accession to the throne of Mauretania. The family tree can be constructed for
at least seven generations before Juba,1 starting with the tribal chieftain
Zilalsan, born perhaps around 300 BC.2 The family was famous and talented,
producing a variety of scholars and political and cultural leaders, attached
first to Carthaginian interests and then to Roman, with an increasing
amount of Hellenism. This impressive ancestry was certainly a factor in
Caesar’s decision to save young Juba, and that of Augustus to make him
king of Mauretania.
Juba’s ancestors were kings of Numidia, the territory south and west of
Carthage. Originally nomadic herdsmen, by the fourth century BC they
became identifiable as a number of tribal groups, which seem to have begun
to coalesce into a single ethnic unit late in the following century.3 This
process was said to have been largely due to the efforts of Massinissa, the
first of the Numidian kings to appear prominently in the historical record.
His grandfather Zilalsan (the first member of the dynasty whose name is
known with certainty) held the title of suffete, indicating the Carthaginian
1 One may contrast the Herodians, who cannot be traced beyond the great-grandfather of Herod the
Great: see Kokkinos, Herodian Dynasty, p. 109.
2 See Appendix 2. Nevertheless, Juba was the upstart within his immediate family. His wife Kleopa-
tra Selene, and thus their children, could trace their ancestry back to Lagos, the father of the first
Ptolemaios, born perhaps around 400 BC, and even further through the Antonii into the fifth century
BC.
3 Maria R.-Alföldi, “Die Geschichte des numidisichen Königreiches und seiner Nachfolger,” in
Numider, pp. 43–51. On the early history, see Elizabeth W. B. Fentress, Numidia and the Roman
Army: Social, Military and Economic Aspects of the Frontier Zone, BAR-IS 53, 1979, pp. 43–60; François
Decret and Mhamed Fantar, L’Afrique du Nord dans l’antiquité (Paris: Payot, 1981), pp. 1–67; and
Robert Morstein-Marx, “The Myth of Numidian Origins in Sallust’s African Excursus (Iugurtha
17.7–18.13),” AJP 122, 2001, 179–200.
11
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
influence existing by the early third century BC.4 His son, Gaia or Gala, was
the first to carry the title “king,” but presumably was king only of his tribal
group, the Maesyli.5 Gaia came to Roman notice during the Second Punic
War because he opposed another Numidian chieftain, Syphax, who had
revolted from the Carthaginians and sided with Rome, a crucial event of the
latter years of the war.6 For the first time, the Romans began to incorporate
the Numidian tribes into their strategic designs against Carthage. Gaia’s son
Massinissa, who turned 20 the year the war began, fought at the side of his
father for Carthage and against Syphax and Rome.
Gaia died in Spain near the end of the war,7 but Massinissa did not
inherit the kingship because custom caused it to revert to his uncle Oezal-
ces, brother-in-law of the famous Hannibal. Oezalces died shortly thereafter
and was succeeded by his son Capussa, who was promptly killed by a rela-
tive, Mazaetullus, who had married Oezalces’ widow and thus had acquired
the status appropriate for the brother-in-law of Hannibal. This Numidian
civil war now involved three tribal groups, those of Syphax, the brothers
Gaia and Oezalces, and Mazaetullus. Moreover, Roman and Carthaginian
interests were already polarizing in their support of these families. The way
was clear for the rise of Massinissa.
Massinissa was the most famous and notable of the ancestors of Juba II,
his great-great-great-grandfather.8 During his long reign, which extended
from the Second Punic War into the Third, he prospered despite being
caught between Rome and Carthage, eventually siding with the former and
playing a decisive role in the destruction of the latter. Learned and erudite,
he presided over a court that attracted both Greeks and Romans, and thus
became one of the best early examples of the king allied to Rome and an
ideal role model for his descendant.
4 On the predecessors of Massinissa, see J.-B. Chabot, Recueil des inscriptions libyques (Paris: Imprimerie
Nationale, 1940), #2, a bilingual (Libyan and Punic) inscription from Thugga recording the erec-
tion of a temple to Massinissa in the tenth year of his son Micipsa (139 BC); Fentress (supra note 3),
pp. 50–2; Coltelloni-Trannoy, p. 107; Gabriel Camps, Massinissa (LibAE 8.1, 1960), pp. 159–83;
P. G. Walsh, “Massinissa,” JRS 55, 1965, 150. Zilalsan may have been a descendant – perhaps
grandson – of Ailymas, “king of Libya,” an ally of Agathokles of Syracuse (Diodoros 20.17–18). See
Gabriel Camps, “Origines du royaume massyle,” RHCM 3, July 1967, 32–3.
5 The name is Gala in Greco-Roman sources, but the Thugga inscription (Chabot, supra note 4) has
GII, indicating that “Gaia” may be a better transliteration. See also F. Stähelin, “Gaia” (#4), RE
Supp. 3, 1918, 534–8; Gsell, vol. 3, pp. 177–83. Livy (27.19.9) called him “rex Numidarum,” but
this seems anachronistic.
6 John Briscoe, “The Second Punic War,” CAH2 8, 1989, 57–9. The wide and complex issues of the
Second Punic War are not the primary concern here. On this, see, most recently, B. D. Hoyos,
Unplanned Wars: The Origins of the First and Second Punic Wars, Untersuchungen zur antiken Literatur
und Geschichte 50 (Berlin 1998).
7 Livy 29.29.6; Gsell, vol. 3, p. 189.
8 The ancient sources are primarily Polybios 14, Livy 25–42, and Appian, Libyka. For modern sources,
see Camps, LibAE (supra note 4); Walsh (supra note 4), pp. 149–60; W. Schur, “Massinissa,” RE 14,
1930, 2154–65; Gsell, vol. 3, pp. 189–364 (passim); R.-Alföldi (supra note 3), pp. 51–7, and the
recent study by Elfrieda Storm, Massinissa: Numidien in Aufbruch (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner, 2001).
12
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
13
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
12 Livy 29.23–32; see also Appian, Iberika 37; L. A. Thompson, “Carthage and the Massylian Coup
d’État of 206 BC,” Historia 30, 1981, 120–6. Massinissa also solicited aid from Baga, king of the
Mauri: this is the earliest reference (in terms of context) to Mauretania in Roman literature. On
Baga, see infra, p. 46.
13 Livy 29.34; Polybios 14.3–8; Appian, Libyka 26. Syphax was sent into exile in Italy, and died two
years later at Tibur or Alba, receiving a state funeral (Livy 30.45.4–5; Zonaras 9.23 [from Dio 17]).
His son Vermina, who had been in Italy with his father, seems to have been restored to his father’s
territory and thus ruled on terms agreeable to Rome as petty king over a small district, but nothing
is known about him after the Second Punic War and it is probable that he did not survive long (Livy
31.19.4–6; Zonaras 9.13 [from Dio 17]; Mazard #13–16).
14 Livy 29.30.10–13. The personal combat between Massinissa and Hannibal recorded by Zonaras
(9.14, from Dio 17) is probably apocryphal.
15 Livy 30.15.9–14. He seems to have begun his regnal years sometime in 205 BC: see Werner Huss,
“Die Datierung nach numidischen Königsjahren,” AntAfr 26, 1990, 39–42. On some of the prob-
lems with the veracity of Scipio’s addressing Massinissa as king, see E. Badian, Foreign Clientelae
(264–70 B.C.) (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1958), pp. 125–6, 295.
16 Livy 30.17.7–14; Appian, Libyka 32. On this as one of the first instances of the Roman process for
recognition of the client king, of which Massinissa was an outstanding early example, see Braund,
Friendly King, p. 24; see also Erich S. Gruen, The Hellenistic World and the Coming of Rome, first paper-
back printing (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986), pp. 159–64, for some of the dif-
ficulties with this view.
17 IDélos 442a, line 101; Polybios 36.16; Appian, Libyka 106; Strabo 17.3.15; Jehan Desanges,
“L’Afrique romaine et libyco-berbère,” in Rome et la conquête du monde méditerranéen, 264–27 avant
J.-C., ed. Claude Nicolet, Nouvelle Clio 8bis (Paris: Presses Universitaires de France, 1978), pp.
651–2; Walsh (supra note 4), pp. 152–6 (who diminished the extent of the Numidian agricultural
wealth).
14
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
Polybios and King Ptolemaios VIII, who was impressed with its Greco-
Roman character.19 Massinissa’s coinage shows Greek qualities in the
bearded bust of the king, with royal diadem, and includes the elephant, an
early numismatic representation of this ubiquitous symbol of North African
royalty.20 It was perhaps also Massinissa who began to exploit the Numidian
marble that was soon to be exported to Rome,21 and to build in Hellenistic
fashion, especially the monumental funerary architecture still conspicuous
today.22 He involved himself in the politics of the eastern Mediterranean,
assisting Rome in the Makedonian Wars, and eventually sending his son
Misagetes with a substantial force and supplies to Greece.23 Later he shipped
grain to Delos and was honored by that island,24 and was on friendly terms
with eastern royalty, especially Nikomedes II of Bithynia.25 His sons were
sent to Greece, probably Athens, to be educated.26
Meanwhile, in order to insure his own survival at home, he initiated a
18 Coltelloni-Trannoy, p. 143.
19 Polybios 9.25; Ptolemaios VIII (FGrHist #234) fr. 7–8. The contacts between Ptolemaios VIII and
Massinissa are discussed by Tadeusz Kotula, “Orientalia Africana. Réflexions sur les contacts Afrique
du Nord romaine – Orient hellénistique,” FolOr 24, 1987, 120–1.
20 Mazard #17; Hans R. Baldus, “Die Münzprägung der Numidischen Königreiche,” in Numider,
pp. 191–4.
21 The marble, yellow with red veins and known today as giallo antico, came from the vicinity of Simit-
thu (modern Chemtou) in the upper Bagradas (modern Mejerda) valley, in what is now northwestern
Tunisia, where quarries and workshops are still visible in an impressive setting (Figure 1, p. 12). See
Heinz Günter Horn, “Die antiken Steinbrüche von Chemtou/Simitthus,” in Numider, pp. 173–80;
Mustapha Khanoussi, “Les officiales marmorum numidicorum,” AfrRom 12, 1998, 997–8. It was first
exported to Egypt and Greece and then to Rome, one of the earliest foreign stones to arrive in the
city, where it was used in the Temple of Concord and Forum of Augustus, among other structures.
See NH 36.49; Hazel Dodge, “Decorative Stones for Architecture in the Roman Empire,” OJA 7,
1988, 66; Marble in Antiquity: Collected Papers of J. B. Ward-Perkins, Archaeological Monographs of
the British School at Rome 6, ed. Hazel Dodge and Bryan Ward-Perkins (1992), pp. 15, 24, 116,
157.
22 Infra, p. 130.
23 Livy 36.4.5–8, 42.29.8–9, 43.6.11–14, 45.13.12–17. On the problems and paradoxes this created,
see Braund, Friendly King, p. 184.
24 IG 11.4.1115 (⫽SIG4 652), 1116; IDélos 442A, 100–6; 1577bis. The Delians may have commis-
sioned the noted local sculptor Polianthes to erect a statue of the king. On the grain shipments,
perhaps an attempt to create an eastern market due to the decline of those in Italy, see Lionel
Casson, Ancient Trade and Society (Detroit: Wayne State University Press, 1984), pp. 76–7; Philippe
Gauthier, “Sur le don de grain numide à Délos: un pseudo-Rhodien dans les comptes de hiéropes,”
in Comptes et inventaires dans la cité grecque: Actes du colloque international d’épigraphie tenu à Neuchâtel du
23 au 26 septembre 1986 en l’honneur de Jacques Tréheux, ed. Denis Knoepfler (Neuchâtel: Faculté des
Lettres, Université de Neuchâtel, 1986), pp. 61–9. A delegation to Delos in the 170s BC may have
been led by Massinissa’s son Gulussa: see Marie-Françoise Baslez, “Un Monument de la famille
royale de Numidie à Délos,” RÉG 94, 1981, 160–5.
25 IDélos 1577; Arnaldo Momigliano, “I regni indigeni dell’Africa Romana (1),” in Africa Romana
(Milan: Hoepli, 1935), pp. 94–5.
26 Livy, Epitome 50; IG 22.2316.41–4.
15
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
16
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
the wife of his enemy Syphax, but Massinissa became enamored with her and
sent her poison so that she would not be captured alive by the Romans – an
episode as much from tragedy as history.34 Massinissa was a role model for
Juba to adopt: the ancestor who embodied all the best qualities of barbarian
integrity, Greco-Roman culture, and political astuteness, strongly attached
to a particular Roman family, turning from enemy to friend, spending his
life balancing the needs of his territory with those of Rome.35
Upon his death, Massinissa left his kingdom to three of his sons and
made P. Cornelius Scipio Aemilianus the executor of his will,36 one of the
earliest known cases of a royal inheritance involving Rome.37 Scipio had met
the king’s heirs and was the adopted grandson of his patron Scipio
Africanus. The will, whether oral or written, was executed in perilous times,
during the middle of the Third Punic War, in the context of long-standing
Carthaginian–Numidian animosity, when the Carthaginians might have
been expected to meddle in the succession. Scipio, well known in Numidia
and prestigious in Rome, was an obvious choice to supervise this touchy
issue. How much the eventual settlement was the work of Scipio and how
much was the testament of Massinissa is not certain: Appian, the primary
source, is ambiguous, stating only that the sons were to obey (pe…qesqai)
Scipio.38
34 The main source is Livy 30.12–15; see also Appian, Libyka 10, 27–8; Diodoros 27.7; Zonaras
9.11–13 (from Dio 17); U. Kahrstedt, “Sophoniba,” RE 2, ser. 3, 1927, 1099–100; T. A. Dorey,
“Masinissa, Syphax, and Sophoniba,” PACA 4, 1961, 1–2; R.-Alföldi (supra note 3), pp. 48–50. On
whether Juba discussed this tale, see infra, p. 181. Certain of the elements – especially in Appian’s
version – seem the details of a tragedy: the encounter between Massinissa and Sophoniba when he
brings the poison and tells her either to drink it or be captured, Sophoniba’s speech to the nurse
before she takes the poison, Massinissa’s showing of the body to the Romans, Scipio’s final speech to
Massinissa, the ironies of a possible former relationship between Massinissa and Sophoniba, and
Syphax’s subsequent death. The tale also became common in art: see German Hafner, “Das Bildnis
des Massinissa,” AA 1970, pp. 418–20; Karl Schefold, Die Wände Pompejis (Berlin: De Gruyter,
1957), pp. 46, 219; G. Bermond Montanari, “Sofonisba,” EAA 7, 1966, 398–90, figure 489 (a
painting from Pompeii showing her taking the poison); Numider, pl. 56.
35 Strabo (17.3.9) specifically connected Massinissa and Juba, probably influenced in this comparison by
Juba himself, who was acutely aware of his descent from the great king (CIL 2.3417 [⫽ILS 840]).
36 Appian, Libyka 105–7; Zonaras 9.27 (from Dio 21). Scipio had met Massinissa either in 151 BC
when on an elephant-gathering expedition (Appian, Libyka 71), or perhaps two years later (Cicero,
Republic 6.9), and thus was acquainted with his sons, who were to be the heirs.
37 It had been only seven years since the earliest, that of Massinissa’s associate Ptolemaios VIII of Egypt,
written in 155 BC when he was king of Kyrene (SEG 9.7). Although this will was never implemented,
because the circumstances under which it was written were no longer in force when the king died
nearly forty years later, Ptolemaios may have suggested to Massinissa that Roman supervision of his
inheritance was a good idea. See infra, Appendix 3; Braund, Friendly King, pp. 129–30. Whether
Massinissa had a written will, or just made an oral statement of intent, is not clear.
38 Braund, Friendly King, pp. 138–9; Charles Saumagne, La Numidie et Rome: Massinissa et Jugurtha (Paris
1966), pp. 100–4; see further, Badian (supra note 15), pp. 137–8. Yet emphasis on the legalities of suc-
cession can be futile, as often the rules are of no importance; this was to be demonstrated only a genera-
tion later with Jugurtha. For the whole issue of succession to ruling power, see the volume Succession to
High Office, ed. Jack Goody, Cambridge Papers in Social Anthropology 4, 1966, especially pp. 1–56.
17
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
18
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
19
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
Carthaginian territory. Nothing further is known about him until his death,
which occurred in 118 BC.57 He too adopted the triumviral method of inheri-
tance, leaving the kingdom to his two sons, Adherbal and Hiempsal (I), and,
unfortunately for them, to his nephew and adopted son Jugurtha.
The career of Jugurtha and the Roman war against him are well known.
The sharply focused character study by C. Sallustius Crispus, written
perhaps seventy years after Jugurtha’s death, not only hastened the loss of
the more traditional historical analyses by Livy, Dio, and Appian,58 but
created a portrait of Jugurtha formed by Sallust’s own era, the collapse of the
Republic, when he had served in Africa as Caesar’s appointee. Sallust made
his emphasis clear in the early chapters of his Jugurtha, outlining what was
perhaps his primary reason for writing: “This conflict totally mixed up
human and divine matters and advanced to such a frenzy that political
intensity resulted in war and the desolation of Italy.”59 This chaos and
destruction was a world Sallust knew well, as he was one of the players: a
protégé of Caesar who was constantly in ethical and legal troubles, especially
as a result of his actions as the first Roman governor of the provincialized
former Numidian kingdom. He was eventually prosecuted and forced into
retirement, leading him to seek (as he himself wrote) the higher goal of
becoming a historian,60 his researches being aided by the former Carthagin-
ian state library, which had passed from the Numidian kings into his hands.
Yet the result was a peculiar depiction of Jugurtha less as a Numidian
nationalist than as an instigator of the fall of the Republic.61
Because of Sallust, the career of Jugurtha is known in great detail.62
Sallust emphasized his physical and intellectual prowess as a young man,
which first impressed his uncle Micipsa but eventually led him to worry
20
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
about his ambition and potential as a rival.63 Micipsa thus decided to place
Jugurtha in command of a Numidian contingent sent to aid the Romans in
the Numantine War, allegedly hoping that he would be killed. But he had
underestimated his nephew, who caught the notice of the family patron,
Scipio Aemilianus, who made him part of his entourage. Scipio educated
Jugurtha in Roman ways and customs, and after the war sent him home
with a most enthusiastic letter of recommendation. This evidently encour-
aged Micipsa – his worries seemingly forgotten – to adopt him as joint heir
with his own sons Adherbal and Hiempsal (I) and to leave an oral testament
in which Jugurtha was put forth as the primary heir, not only because of his
ability but because he was older than Micipsa’s sons, who were enjoined to
defer to Jugurtha’s superior wisdom and virtue.64
This arrangement was an obvious prescription for disaster, and it is inter-
esting that there is no evidence of Roman supervision of the will.65 Micipsa
was allegedly out of his mind when he died in 118 BC, and the two Romans
most acquainted with the family, Scipio Aemilianus and C. Gracchus, were
already dead; the civil strife that had led to their deaths may have discour-
aged the Numidians from involving Rome in the succession. There appears
to have been enduring animosity among the three heirs. Jugurtha was sensi-
tive about the low status of his mother, and felt that his grandfather had
slighted him because of this. The sons of Micipsa lost no opportunity to
point this out. Because Jugurtha was the oldest, these insults were acutely
felt, especially when the issue erupted at the first meeting of the three after
Micipsa’s death. This council degenerated into bickering with no agreement
as to how to divide the kingdom. Before long, Jugurtha had Hiempsal mur-
dered and civil war erupted between the two survivors.66 Adherbal soon fled
to Rome.67 Jugurtha sent his own contingent to the city, loaded with pres-
ents to be used in lavish bribery of a number of senators, demonstrating the
power barbarian kings could wield by spreading their wealth through relat-
ively impoverished Rome.68 Both were invited to address the Senate.
Adherbal invoked his position as a grandson of Massinissa and the inheritor
of his friendship and alliance with Rome, emphasizing Jugurtha’s generally
violent and evil character, which had resulted in the murder of Adherbal’s
brother. Although Sallust’s account is anachronistic and chauvinistic in
many ways, as presented it is a powerful summary of the relationship
63 Sallust, Jugurtha 6. On the difficulties with Micipsa’s analysis of Jugurtha as a threat, see Paul (supra
note 30) 29.
64 Sallust, Jugurtha 7–10.
65 It has been assumed that the otherwise undocumented African command of M. Porcius Cato (consul
in 118 BC), recorded by Aulus Gellius (13.20.9–10) but not recognized by Broughton, was to deal
with the Numidian succession. See Gsell, vol. 7, pp. 21, 142; Paul (supra note 30), pp. 46–7.
66 Sallust, Jugurtha 11–12.
67 Adherbal may have been in Rome previously: see Braund, Friendly King, p. 23; De viris illustribus 66.
68 Sallust, Jugurtha 13–15; Braund, Friendly King, pp. 58–9.
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Needless to say, there was outrage in Rome. Jugurtha felt that bribery
would settle the issue and sent ambassadors to the city, but they were told
to go home and only return with the king. Meanwhile, Roman forces had
moved into Numidia and attacked. Jugurtha seems to have been successful
in bribing the Roman commanders into an armistice, but it was repudiated
in Rome. He was finally persuaded to come to the city, but refused to reply
to the charges against him, although he was able to bring about the murder
of his cousin and potential rival Massiva, son of Gulussa, who was resident
in Rome. Jugurtha was then ordered to leave Italy, and even though ambiva-
lence persisted in Rome, full-scale war soon resulted.74
The details of the Jugurthine War need not be recounted here.75 It con-
tinued for seven years, mostly inconclusively, with a series of Roman com-
manders promising quick victory and failing to deliver. Jugurtha had
learned well his lessons in Spain and was quite capable in Roman tactics,
even able to organize the primitive Gaetulians in Roman fashion.76 The last
Roman commander was C. Marius, whose career had been steadily advanc-
ing since distinguished service in Numantia. He went to Numidia in 109 BC
as aide to Q. Caecilius Metellus (consul in 109 BC), but they soon quarreled,
and Marius returned to Rome and was elected consul for 107 BC, forcing
through legislation that would give him superior command, although he
was no more effective than his predecessors. But Jugurtha’s in-law Bocchus I
of Mauretania, playing a careful double game, eventually tilted toward
Rome and turned Jugurtha over to Marius’ quaestor L. Cornelius Sulla.77
Jugurtha was brought to Rome and appeared in Marius’ triumph on
1 January 105 BC, led before the imperial chariot in chains with his two sons.
Within a week he was dead, either by suicide or by execution. His sons
remained in Italy: the kingship of Numidia passed to his brother Gauda.78
As Massinissa had become a paradigm for the ideal barbarian king, his
grandson Jugurtha became the opposite model.79 He was the barbarian who
23
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
did not recognize the importance of good relations with Rome (in contrast
to his betrayer, Bocchus of Mauretania), who killed off his rivals and
involved Rome in a horrible and fruitless war that resulted in no obvious
benefits. It was necessary for the power of Rome totally to crush Jugurtha –
at great cost – and Jugurtha died miserable in a Roman prison. This war, it
was believed, began a cascading series of destabilizing events that was still
in process several generations later. The two Romans who were instrumental
in capturing Jugurtha, Marius and Sulla, would come to strenuous disagree-
ment over who was really responsible for ending the war, and this quarrel
would have ominous implications for the Republic. One can be certain that
Jugurtha’s great-great-nephew Juba II – an intimate of the family of Sallust
– was as aware of Jugurtha’s failings as he was of Massinissa’s virtues.80
Jugurtha had not only died intestate but had killed many of his potential
heirs. His sons were detained in Italy and not available. The only remaining
member of his generation was his brother Gauda,81 the great-grandfather of
Juba II, whom his uncle Micipsa had named a secondary heir but who seems
– unlike his cousins – to have survived the era of Jugurtha because he was in
poor health and perceived as having a weak mind. He remains the most
obscure of the Numidian kings.82 He joined the Roman side during the war
against Jugurtha and entered the entourage of Metellus in Utica, eventually
requesting royal honors, which were denied.83 Marius then enlisted Gauda’s
help by calling him by the title of king and promising that he would
become Jugurtha’s successor, especially if Marius were allowed to succeed
Metellus as commander. Marius then encouraged Gauda to write to friends
in Rome asking them to criticize Metellus and to have Marius replace him:
Roman equestrians in Utica were also part of this successful effort.84
Although Sallust implied that Marius was merely manipulating the weak-
minded Gauda, it is possible that like the emperor Claudius, Gauda used his
apparent infirmities as a survival tactic and that Marius was not totally self-
interested but recognized Gauda as the only possible successor to Jugurtha
80 Jugurtha had little time for the arts of civilization, and there is scant information about his reign
other than the intrigues and military events. Nevertheless, his coinage shows not only the standard
Numidian elephant, but also a clean-shaven portrait of the king, the first Numidian monarch to
adopt the Roman custom of shaving (Mazard #73–5). It is perhaps no coincidence that daily shaving
among Romans was said to have been instituted by the Roman patron of the Numidian royal
family, Scipio Aemilianus (NH 7.211).
81 The name is always Gauda in Latin. Dio, the only Greek literary source, mentioned him twice (fr.
89, from book 26), once as GaÚdaj and once as Gna‹oj, which, although a Roman name, is closer
to the G£oj or Gaàoj of Greek inscriptions. G£oj appears on an inscription from Rhodes erected in
honor of his son Hiempsal II, so is perhaps the extant rendering closest to the actual source. See
Vassa N. Kontorini, “Le Roi Hiempsal II de Numidie et Rhodes,” AntCl 64, 1975, 91.
82 Gsell, vol. 7, pp. 138, 220–1, 262–3, 275–6; Romanelli, Storia, pp. 81–5.
83 Sallust, Jugurtha 65; Dio, fr. 89 (book 26).
84 Plutarch’s version (Marius 7–8) makes no mention of Gauda’s involvement in the pressure cam-
paign.
24
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
85 Marius seems also to have given Gauda support by settling Gaetulian cavalry in his territory
(Lintott, “The Roman Empire” [supra note 62], p. 30).
86 Plutarch, Marius 40; Appian, Civil War 1.62; see Broughton, vol. 2, pp. 41–2.
87 Kontorini (supra note 81), pp. 95–8; Gabriel Camps, “Les Derniers Rois numides: Massinissa II et
Arabion,” BAC n.s. 17b1, 1984, 303–6; W. Huss, “Die westmassylischen Könige,” AntSoc, 20,
1989, 210–12. The inscription is from Syracuse, which raises the possibility of Masteabar’s relations
with that city.
88 See further, infra, pp. 92–3.
89 Cicero, De lege agraria 2.58. Official recognition may have been the work of Marius, if Cicero, Post
reditum ad Quirites 20, is to be taken literally (“quibus regna ipse dederat”). On Hiempsal II, see Th.
Lenschau, “Hiempsal,” RE 8, 1913, 1393–5.
90 Pietro Romanelli, “Chi fu il vincitore di Giugurta: Mario o Silla?” ArchStorTL 2, 1960, 171–3.
91 NH 37.9; Valerius Maximus 8.14.4; Plutarch, Sulla 3–4, Marius 10.5–6.
92 Plutarch, Sulla 6, Marius 32; on the monument, see Thomas Schäfer, “Das Siegesdenkmal vom
Kapitol,” in Numider, pp. 243–50.
25
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
his life before escaping.93 In this way, Numidian affairs came to be manipu-
lated by Roman political interests of the era.
The Greco-Roman sources, needless to say, give the impression that
Numidia was merely one of the theaters of the Roman civil war, and little
independent information is available, although a close reading demonstrates
that affairs in Numidia were far from stable and in a state of decline, some-
thing most obvious in the permanent splitting of the kingdom that
Massinissa had unified only a century previously. Moreover, Hiempsal II had
to face a revolt in his own region, led by a certain Hiarbas, who seems to
have seized control not long after Hiempsal became king.94 He attracted
strong Roman interest: Africa became the refuge of choice of many of Sulla’s
opponents in the 80s BC, beginning with Marius in 88 BC.95 Shortly there-
after Hiarbas emerged, and expelled Hiempsal from his throne.96 Where he
came from is a mystery. It is hard to relate him to the reigning family,
which had largely been killed or exiled at the time of Jugurtha. There is
some merit to the suggestion that he was Gaetulian, the Gaetulians being
the indigenous population that lived south of Numidia.97 Portions of them
were beginning a transition toward a sedentary way of life. Jugurtha had
organized them in Roman military fashion, and Marius had provided land
and recognized their independent status.98 It was a good time for a Gaetu-
lian to claim the throne of Numidia – knowledge of the instability in Rome
would only have made the opportunity seem more fortuitous – and this may
have been what happened sometime after 88 BC.99 Yet when Sulla became dic-
tator in 82 BC, the Numidian situation needed attention, both because its
legitimate king (whose rule had probably been ratified by Rome) had been
deposed, and because Sullan opponents were involved in the claims of the
usurper, since Cn. Domitius Ahenobarbus, who had fled to Africa after being
proscribed, had gathered a large force and allied himself with Hiarbas.100
Sulla selected a rising young man who had joined his cause the previous
year, Cn. Pompeius,101 who landed with his army at Utica and went to
Carthage. After a ludicrous episode when his troops became obsessed with
93 Plutarch, Marius 40; Appian, Civil War 1.62; Badian (supra note 15), pp. 237–8.
94 Appian, Civil War 1.80; Gsell, vol. 7, pp. 281–7.
95 Plutarch, Crassus 6; Sallust, Jugurtha 64.4; Badian (supra note 15), pp. 266–7.
96 Plutarch, Pompeius 12; Th. Lenschau, “Hiarbas” (#2), RE 8, 1913, 1388; Romanelli, Storia, pp. 93–5.
97 Fentress, Numidia and the Roman Army (supra note 3), p. 79.
98 Sallust, Jugurtha 80; De bello africo 32, 56.
99 A memory of the Gaetulian usurper Hiarbas may have been preserved by Vergil in his Gaetulian
Iarbas (Aeneid 4.36, 326).
100 Plutarch, Pompeius 11–12. He was one of the more obscure members of a family that would remain
prominent for the next century. See Broughton 2.560; F. Münzer, “Cn. Domitius Ahenobarbus” (#22),
RE 5, 1903, 1327–8; Robin Seager, Pompey: A Political Biography (Oxford: Blackwell, 1979), p. 10.
101 Plutarch, Pompeius 11–13; Appian, Civil War 1.80; Seager (supra note 100), pp. 10–12. On the
career of Pompeius in North Africa, see Mohamed Majdoub, “Pompeius Magnus et les rois maures,”
AfrRom 12, 1998, 1321–8.
26
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
recovering the lost treasures of Carthage and proceeded to dig up the ruins of
the city, Pompeius engaged Domitius and Hiarbas, defeating them so totally
in a forty-day campaign that he was saluted as imperator. Domitius was killed;
Hiarbas briefly escaped but was soon captured and also killed.102 During the
next year, Pompeius, in Plutarch’s revealing phrase, “arranged the affairs of
the kings.”103 Hiempsal was returned to the throne.104 The Gaetulians were,
officially at least, made his subjects,105 a policy that would cause much
trouble for the next century. There seems to have been some recognition of
the petty kingdom of Masteabar.106 Pompeius then returned to Italy to be
given a triumph, although still in his twenties and only an equestrian,
gaining the title “Magnus” that he would carry for the rest of his life. Like his
mentor Sulla, he first achieved fame by settling a Numidian war,107 but, in a
dramatic indication of how things had changed in the quarter-century since
the time of Jugurtha, this war had seen Romans die on both sides, with a
consul killed by a promagistrate. Ominous precedents were being set.108
Once he had been returned to his throne, Hiempsal was honored by the
Rhodians, probably for commercial reasons:109 Rhodes was near the end of its
independent identity and had long been in decline, and may have been looking
for wealthy allies. He still retained possession of the Carthaginian state library
and perhaps wrote on history himself.110 He appears on his coinage as clean-
shaven in the Roman style.111 But there are no other details about his reign for
twenty years after his restoration.112 Roman interests were elsewhere.
102 Livy, Epitome 89; according to Orosius (5.21), he escaped to Bulla Regia and perhaps was heading
toward Mauretania: because of this it has been suggested (Romanelli, Storia, p. 95) that Bulla Regia
was his power base. See also Coltelloni-Trannoy, p. 89.
103 Plutarch, Pompeius 12.5: diÇthse ta\ tîn basile/wn.
104 Aulus Gellius 9.12.14 (⫽Sallust, Histories 1.45 [ed. McGushin]).
105 De bello africo 56.
106 This, presumably, is the meaning of the phrase in De viris illustribus (77.2) that Pompeius took Numidia
from Hiarbas and gave it to Massinissa. This Massinissa may have been the son of Masteabar and father
of Arabion: see Camps, BAC (supra note 87), pp. 303–10; Huss (supra note 87), pp. 214–15.
107 The parallel was not lost on Sulla: Plutarch, Pompeius 13.
108 This was effectively stressed by Badian (supra note 15), pp. 271–2: “From Hiempsal and Hiarbas the
road leads straight to . . . Juba [I] and Cleopatra.”
109 Kontorini (supra note 81), pp. 89–99.
110 Sallust, Jugurtha 17; Paul (supra note 30), p. 74; Victor Matthews, “The libri Punici of King Hiemp-
sal,” AJP 93, 1972, 330–5; Coltelloni-Trannoy, pp. 137–8. Despite the contrary arguments of Syme
(supra note 60), p. 153, and Camps (LibAE, supra note 4), pp. 15–16, repeated in his “Hiempsal
[Iemsal],” EB 23, 2000, 3464), it seems unlikely that Sallust’s “libri punici . . . regis Hiempsalis”
refers to the short-lived Hiempsal I, who barely had time to be king before tangling fatally with
Jugurtha. See, further, Véronique Krings, “Les libri Punici de Salluste,” AfrRom 7, 1989, 109–17;
Morstein-Marx, AJP (supra note 3), pp. 195–7.
111 Mazard #75–83.
112 At some date the citizens of Thurburbo built a structure in his honor, but the inscription seems
imperial and may be from the time of Juba II or Ptolemaios, his grandson and great-grandson. See
Stéphane Gsell, Inscriptiones latines de l’Algérie 1 (Rome: L’Erma di Bretschneider, 1965), #1242;
Gsell, vol. 7, p. 290.
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JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
113 Cicero, De lege agraria 1, 2, 3; the few other sources are derivative.
114 For which see Erich S. Gruen, The Last Generation of the Roman Republic, first paperback edition
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995), pp. 389–94; G. V. Sumner, “Cicero, Pompeius, and
Rullus,” TAPA 97, 1966, 569–82; Ritter, Rom, pp. 122–4; E. J. Jonkers, Social and Economic
Commentary on Cicero’s De lege agraria orationes tres (Leiden: E. J. Brill, 1963).
115 Cicero, De lege agraria 1.10–11, 2.58; see Fentress, Numidia and the Roman Army (supra note 3),
pp. 53–4. Pompeius may have been behind the exemption since he had restored Hiempsal to his
throne: see Sumner (supra note 114), pp. 569–82; Seager (supra note 100), pp. 63–4.
116 Broughton, vol. 2, p. 96; Sallust, Histories 2.44 (McGushin); David C. Braund, “Cicero on Hiempsal
II and Juba: de leg. agr. 2.58–9,” LCM 8, 1983, 87–9.
117 Paul (supra note 30), pp. 261–3.
118 NH 7.117; Plutarch, Cicero 12; Cicero, Pro Sulla 65; Gruen, Last Generation (supra note 114), p. 394.
119 On this, see Fentress, Numidia and the Roman Army (supra note 3), pp. 53–4.
28
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
120 Suetonius, Julius 71; Ritter, Rom, pp. 124–5; Gsell, vol. 7, p. 294 (who suggested that “Masintha”
was a corruption of Massinissa, perhaps the ally of Caesar mentioned by Vitruvius [8.3.25]);
Romanelli, Storia, p. 100; Teutsch (supra note 72), pp. 52–3. Caesar’s status as the nephew of
Marius may have been the reason Masintha asked for his help, as Numidians were to do in Africa
fifteen years later (De bello africo 32), but there is no hint of this, despite Matthias Gelzer, Caesar:
Politician and Statesman, sixth edition, translated Peter Needham (Cambridge, Mass.: Harvard Uni-
versity Press, 1968), p. 45.
121 On Mastanesosus, see infra, p. 56.
122 Cicero, In Vatinium 12.
123 Caesar, Bellum Civile 2.25; Dio 41.41; Lucan, Pharsalia 4.689–94.
29
JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
124 On Juba I, see Th. Lenschau, “Iuba” (#1), RE 9, 1916, 2381–4; A. Charbonneaux, “Giuba I,” EAA
3, 1960, 917; Ritter, Rom, pp. 126–34.
125 Camps, BAC (supra note 87), pp. 303–11.
126 Cicero, De lege agraria 2.59: “Volitat enim ante oculos istorum Juba, regis filius, adulescens non
minus bene nummatus quam bene capillatus.”
127 The word was used by Ennius, Annals 520, but other citations are from the time of Cicero and later
(see OLD), so it came to be definitely associated with the African kings. On this see Braund, Friendly
King, p. 68; Braund, LCM (supra note 116), p. 89.
128 Especially Mazard #88. A portrait bust from Caesarea (Figure 15, p. 140), now in the Louvre (MA
1885), idealized, with full beard and exceedingly luxuriant hair, is generally identified as the king
and was probably commissioned by his son: see Gisela M. A. Richter, The Portraits of the Greeks
(London: Phaidon, 1965), p. 280, figures 2000–2. A stele from Chemtou in Numidia shows a horse-
man with rich beard and thick hair, carrying a royal diadem and riding on an elaborate saddle and
using a bridle. Because of these characteristics, it has also been suggested to be of the king. See
Theodor Kraus, “Reiterbild eines Numiderkönigs,” in Praestant Interna: Festschrift für Ulrich Haus-
mann, ed. Bettina von Freytag geb. Löringhoff et al. (Tübingen: E. Wasmuth, 1982), pp. 146–7;
François Bertrandy, “À propos du cavalier de Simitthus (Chemtou),” AntAfr 22, 1986, 57–71.
129 Suetonius, Julius 71.
130 In 49 BC Pompeius was unsuccessfully to move that he be made “socius and amicus” (Caesar, Bellum
civile 1.6), a motion blocked by the consul C. Claudius Marcellus, although Pompeius unilaterally
confirmed him as king later that year (Dio 41.42.7).
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JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
who were in a state of revolt, and if the source, Aelian (who recorded it for
natural historical, not political or military reasons), can be taken literally,
the campaign lasted a year.140 It is probable that the insurgents were the
Gaetulians, whom Pompeius had ill-advisedly placed under Numidian
control and who were resisting, as they were to do for the next century.141
Juba may also have seized some or all of the territory of Leptis, invited in by
a local faction.142 In attacking the ancient Phoenician city that would
become famous in imperial times as Leptis Magna, he had moved far around
the southern edge of the Roman province to the east, and into the independ-
ent district between Roman Africa and Kyrenaika, a venture perhaps not
unusual for one who had spent a year in the desert pursuing the Gaetulians,
but probably quite frightening to the Romans. The citizens of Leptis com-
plained to Rome, and the Senate appointed a commission that decided in
their favor and forced Juba to withdraw. The taking of Leptis, if nothing
else, would have resulted in serious questions in Rome about the future of
the Numidian kingdom. Moreover, as the polarization between Caesar and
Pompeius intensified, it was obvious that Juba would be on the side of Pom-
peius, who had restored his father to the throne, not that of Caesar, who had
publicly assaulted him in Rome.
It was in this context that a solution to the Numidian question was put
forth early in 50 BC by the ambitious tribune Q. Scribonius Curio, who pro-
posed that the kingdom be confiscated.143 Curio’s legislation was agrarian,
and the agricultural riches of North Africa had long been envied by Rome,
but the singling out of Juba and his kingdom also would have had a nar-
rower political focus. It came to nothing – for complex reasons, Curio even-
tually withdrew his entire legislative program – but nevertheless it would
have fatal consequences, as Juba now knew that certain factions in Rome
meant to destroy him.
Perhaps in part seeking to mitigate the damage done by Curio’s proposal,
and to build his own power base in the face of Caesar’s return from Gaul
early in 49 BC, Pompeius suggested that Juba be officially recognized as a
friend and ally of Rome.144 But the matter was indefinitely postponed, and
when Pompeius left Italy for the East, Juba made plans to support him mili-
140 Aelian, On Animals 7.23. His interest was an encounter with a lion, for which see infra, p. 204.
141 Gsell, vol. 7, pp. 292–3.
142 De bello africo 97; Caesar, Bellum civile 2.38. It seems without question that the object of Juba’s inter-
est was the future Leptis Magna, not Leptis in Africa, on the coast south of Carthage and later
known as Leptis Minor (modern Lamta), which was within Roman territory. An incursion here
would have resulted in a response stronger than a senatorial commission, and there would have been
no debate in Rome about the legality of Juba’s actions.
143 Caesar, Bellum civile 2.25; Dio 41.41; Lucan 4.689–95; Cicero, Ad familiares 8.11.3 (from M. Caelius
Rufus to Cicero, April 50 BC). On the character of Curio and his tribunate, see W. K. Lacey, “The
Tribunate of Curio,” Historia 10, 1961, 318–29; on the legislation and its fate, see Gruen, Last Gen-
eration (supra note 114), pp. 471–81.
144 Caesar, Bellum civile 1.6.
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JUBA’S NUMIDIAN ANCESTRY
tarily.145 This emerging alliance between Juba and Pompeius may have been
influential in Caesar’s decision to send his own troops into Numidia, select-
ing for command none other than Curio.146 The wisdom of choosing for this
endeavor the Roman whom Juba most hated is not immediately obvious.147
Curio’s primary objective was the Pompeian governor of Africa, P. Attius
Varus, who was encamped at Utica. Varus had been governor previously,
and since the position was vacant, he had returned and used his familiarity
with the district to create a power base that was a center of Pompeian
support. In Curio’s army was the future historian Asinius Pollio, who is the
major source (other than Caesar) for the events that followed.148
Curio landed in Africa and eventually took up a position near Utica. He
was initially successful in defeating both a Numidian cavalry force and
Varus. But Juba sent out his general Saburra to make camp south of the city
on the Bagradas (modern Mejerda) River: the king did not appear in force
for fear that Curio would merely abandon the expedition and put to sea,
implying that, for Juba, personal revenge was a major priority. Curio was
soon in serious difficulty: emboldened by Caesar’s recent successes in Spain,
he was rash and overconfident, ill-prepared for the heat of an African
summer. The scant water resources were diminished by local poisoning of
wells. But he felt that Saburra’s force was defeatable and was taken in by
Juba’s stratagem to appear to remain uninvolved: Juba even let it be known
that domestic problems prevented his appearance. Curio withdrew into the
hills, where his troops continued to suffer from the heat, and then attacked
Saburra’s force, only to find it supplemented by Juba’s troops. The unfortu-
nate Curio and his exhausted and demoralized troops were slaughtered,
except for Asinius Pollio’s detachment, which had retreated to protect
Utica.149
Pollio attempted to embark his troops on merchant ships, but this turned
into disaster and chaos, and those left on shore surrendered to Varus. Juba,
over his objections, had them killed, although Pollio escaped to write
145 De bello alexandrino 51; François Bertrandy, “L’Aide militaire de Juba Ier aux Pompeiens pendant la
guerre civile en Afrique du Nord (50–46 avant J.-C.),” in Histoire et archéologie de l’Afrique du Nord:
Actes du IV e Colloque International 2: L’Armeé et les affaires militaires (Paris: CTHS, 1991), pp. 289–97.
A few years later, in May of 46 BC, Cicero lamented that the alliance between Pompeius and Juba
was a major reason that he had withdrawn from active participation in the war, as he did not want to
end up a refugee in Numidia (Ad familiares 7.3.3).
146 Caesar, Bellum civile 1.30–1. For the chronology, see Erik Wistrand, “The Date of Curio’s African
Campaign,” Eranos 61, 1963, 38–44.
147 Dio 41.41; Lucan 4.692–3.
148 The ancient sources are Caesar, Bellum civile 2.24–42; Livy, Epitome 110; Lucan, 4.666–787; Appian,
Civil War 2.44–6; Dio 41.41–2; Florus 2.13.26; Orosius 6.15. For an analysis of Lucan’s highly lit-
erary and allegorial treatment of the events, see Charles Saylor, “Curio and Antaeus: The African
Episode of Lucan Pharsalia IV,” TAPA 112, 1982, 169–77.
149 Over a century later, Frontinus considered Juba’s tactics worthy of recording in his Stratagems
(2.5.40).
33
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208. Vit. S. Comgalli, c. 44. Comgall is said in his life to have
visited Britain in the seventh year after the foundation of the
monastery of Bangor, and, as it was founded in the year 559, this
brings us to the year 565.
222. Et venit ad illos cum viiii. Magis induti vestibus albis cum
hoste magico.—Ib., Ap. p. xxxi.
224. Cormac’s Gloss., Ir. Ar. Socy., p. 94. The gloss adds ‘verbi
gratia, figura solis.’ Is it possible that this can refer to the cup-
markings on stones and rocks?
229. Misc. Irish Arch. Socy., p. 12. Dr. Todd, in his notes to the
Irish Nennius, p. 144, translates Sreod by ‘sneezing;’ and the last
line he renders ‘nor on the noise of clapping of hands.’—Life of S.
Pat., p. 122.
231. Leabhar Breac, Part i. p. 137; Part ii. p. 198. The old Irish
word for Druid is in the singular Drui; nom. plural, Druadh or
Druada; gen. plural, Druad. The modern form is Draoi, Draoite,
Draoit.
238. This Dr. John Stuart has most conclusively shown in the very
able papers in the appendix to his preface to the Sculptured Stones
of Scotland, vol. ii. It is to be regretted that these valuable essays
have not been given to the public in a more accessible shape.
240. Dr. John Hill Burton was the first to expose the utterly
fictitious basis on which the popular conceptions of the so-called
Druidical religion rests, and he has done it with much ability and
acuteness in an article in the Edinburgh Review for July 1863, and in
his History of Scotland, vol. i. chap. iv. But he undoubtedly carries
his scepticism too far when he seems disposed to deny the existence
among the pre-Christian inhabitants of Scotland and Ireland of a
class of persons termed Druids. Here he must find himself face to
face with a body of evidence which it is impossible, with any truth or
candour, to ignore.
248. These lines are quoted in the old Irish Life as giving the
retinue with which Columba went to Iona; but Dallan Forgaill’s poem
relates to the convention of Drumceatt.
Adamnan includes this among his miraculous gifts, and adds that to
those who were with him in the church his voice did not seem louder
than that of others; and yet, at the same time, persons more than a
mile away heard it so distinctly that they could mark each syllable of
the verses he was singing, for his voice sounded the same whether
far or near! He gives us another instance of it. Columba was
chanting the evening hymns with a few of his brethren, as usual,
near King Brude’s fortress, and outside the king’s fortifications, when
some ‘Magi,’ coming near to them, did all they could to prevent
God’s praises being sung in the midst of a pagan nation. On seeing
this, the saint began to sing the 44th Psalm; and, at the same
moment, so wonderfully loud, like pealing thunder, did his voice
become, that king and people were struck with terror and
amazement.[289] Another trait, which was ascribed to prophetic
power, was his remarkable observation of natural objects and skill in
interpreting the signs of the weather in these western regions.
Dallan Forgaill says: ‘Seasons and storms he perceived, that is, he
used to understand when calm and storm would come—he
harmonised the moon’s cocircle in regard to course—he perceived its
race with the branching sun—and sea course, that is, he was skilful
in the course of the sea—he would count the stars of heaven.’[290]
When Adamnan tells us that Baithene and Columban asked him to
obtain from the Lord a favourable wind on the next day, though they
were to sail in different directions, and how he promised a south
wind to Baithene next morning till he reached Tiree, and told
Columban to set out for Ireland at the third hour of the same day,
‘for the Lord will soon change the wind to the north,’[291] it required
no more than great skill in interpreting natural signs to foretell a
south wind in the morning and the return breeze three hours after.
The third quality was a remarkable sagacity in forecasting probable
events, and a keen insight into character and motives. How tales
handed down of the exercise of such qualities should by degrees
come to be held as proofs of miraculous and prophetic power, it is
not difficult to understand.
Primacy of Iona After Columba’s death, the monastery of Iona
and successors of appears to have been the acknowledged head of
St. Columba. all the monasteries and churches which his
mission had established in Scotland, as well as of those previously
founded by him in Ireland. To use the words of Bede, ‘This
monastery for a long time held the pre-eminence over most of those
of the northern Scots, and all those of the Picts, and had the
direction of their people,’[292] a position to which it was entitled, as
the mother church, from its possession of the body of the patron
saint.[293] Of the subsequent abbots of Iona who succeeded Columba
in this position of pre-eminency, Bede tells us that, ‘whatever kind of
person he was himself, this we know of him for certain, that he left
successors distinguished for their great charity, divine love and strict
attention to their rules of discipline; following, indeed, uncertain
cycles in their computation of the great festival (of Easter), because,
far away as they were out of the world, no one had supplied them
with the synodal decrees relating to the Paschal observance; yet
withal diligently observing such works of piety and charity as they
could find in the Prophetic, Evangelic and Apostolic writings.’[294]
A.D. 597-599. According to the law which regulated the
Baithene, son of succession to the abbacy in these Irish
Brendan. monasteries, it fell to the tribe of the patron saint
to provide a successor; and Baithene, the cousin and confidential
friend and associate of Columba, and superior of his monastery of
Maigh Lunge in Tiree, who was also of the northern Hy Neill, and a
descendant of Conall Gulban, became his successor, ‘for,’ says the
Martyrology of Donegal, ‘it was from the men of Erin the abbot of I
was chosen, and he was most frequently chosen from the men of
Cinel Conaill.’ He appears to have been designated by Columba
himself as his successor, and to have been at once acknowledged by
the other Columban monasteries; for Adamnan tells us that Finten,
the son of Tailchen, had resolved to leave Ireland and go to Columba
in Iona. ‘Burning with that desire,’ says Adamnan, ‘he went to an old
friend, the most prudent and venerable cleric in his country, who
was called in the Scotic tongue Columb Crag, to get some sound
advice from him. When he had laid open his mind to him, he
received the following answer: “As thy devout wish is, I feel, inspired
by God, who can presume to say that thou shouldst not cross the
sea to Saint Columba?” At the same moment two monks of Columba
happened to arrive; and when they remarked about their journey,
they replied, “We have lately come across from Britain, and to-day
we have come from Daire Calgaich,” or Derry. “Is he well,” says
Columb Crag, “your holy father Columba?” Then they burst into
tears, and answered, with great sorrow, “Our patron is indeed well,
for a few days ago he departed to Christ.” Hearing this, Finten and
Columb and all who were there present fell on their faces on the
ground and wept bitterly. Finten then asked, “Whom did he leave as
his successor?” “Baithene, his disciple,” they replied. And we all cried
out, “It is meet and right.” Columb said to Finten, “What wilt thou do
now, Finten?” He answered, “With God’s permission, I will sail over
to Baithene, that wise and holy man; and if he receive me, I will
take him as my abbot.”’[295] Baithene enjoyed the abbacy, however,
for two years only, and died in the year 599, on the same day of the
year as Saint Columba, on which day his festival was likewise held.
[296]
As the first missionary sent had been a priest, and the result of
Aidan’s interposition was that all declared him worthy of the
episcopate, there can be little doubt that, as we have already had
occasion to show, the distinction of the orders and the superiority of
the episcopal grade were fully recognised. By the custom of the
Scottish Church, only one bishop was necessary for the consecration
of another bishop. That there were bishops in the Columban Church
we know, for Bede tells us that ‘all the province, and even the
bishops, were subject to the abbot of Iona;’ and, as we have seen,
two of the monasteries subject to Iona—Lismore and Cinngaradh, or
Kingarth—had episcopal heads. There may have been an especial
reason why it should be better that Aidan should have episcopal
orders, which did not exist in the case of the Columban monasteries;
for, as the head of a remote church, he might have to ordain priests
from among his Anglic converts; while the Columban Church had
Ireland at its back as a great storehouse of clerics, both bishops and
priests. When, therefore, it is said that he received the episcopal
grade, no doubt a bishop had been called in to consecrate him. But
though he was thus enabled to exercise episcopal functions, in other
respects the organisation of the church thus introduced into
Northumbria, both with respect to jurisdiction and to its monastic
character, was the same as that of the Columban Church at home;
for, instead of fixing his episcopal seat at York, he followed the
custom of the monastic church by selecting a small island near the
Northumbrian coast, bearing the Celtic name of Inis Metcaud,[310] but
known to the Angles as Lindisfarne, as the site of his monastery,
which he was to rule as episcopal abbot. Bede tells us that, ‘on the
arrival of the bishop, the king appointed him his episcopal see in the
isle of Lindisfarne, as he himself desired; which place, as the tide
flows and ebbs, twice a day is enclosed by the waves of the sea like
an island, and again, twice in the day, when the shore is left dry,
becomes contiguous to the land,’—a very apt description of the
island, which is now called Holy Island; and Bede adds, in his Life of
Cudberct, ‘And let no man marvel that in this same island of
Lindisfarne, which is of very small extent, there should be, as we
mentioned above, the seat of a bishop, and, at the same time, as we
now state, the residence of an abbot and monks. For so it is, in
truth. For one and the same habitation of the servants of God
contains both at the same time. Yea, all whom it contains are
monks; for Aidan, who was the first bishop of this place, was a
monk, and was always wont to lead a monastic life, with all his
people. Hence, after him, all the bishops of that place until this day
exercise the episcopal functions in such sort, that, while the abbot,
who is chosen by the bishop with the consent of the brethren,
governs the monastery, all the priests, deacons, chanters, readers
and the other ecclesiastical orders, with the bishop himself, observe
in all things the monastic rule.’[311] This Northumbrian church was
therefore an exact counterpart of the monastic church of which Iona
was the head; and Bede bears a noble testimony to its efficiency as