Lindsay Powell's Blog - Posts Tagged "ancient-rome"
The Ultimate Homicide Case of Ancient Rome
Americans have been in a reflective mood for much of November 2013. The events of fifty years ago on 22 November in Dallas, Texas have come echoing down to the present day. I too have been absorbed in the succession of many excellent TV documentaries and newspaper articles about that fateful day. What struck me was that there were parallels, even similarities, with a much older case of a V.I.P's death that has long been thought of as one of the great murder mysteries of the ancient world.
I am referring to Germanicus Julius Caesar (16 BC-AD 19) about whom I have just published a new biography (1). Germanicus was the famous and well educated grandson of Caesar Augustus. When Augustus adopted Germanicus' uncle Tiberius, who in turn adopted his nephew, he was marked out to be the third emperor of Rome.
Like John Fitzgerald Kennedy, he was wildly popular during his lifetime. Poised, handsome and descended from one of the nation's great families, Germanicus married the emperor's beautiful but strong-willed granddaughter, Agrippina the Elder. As John and Jackie Kennedy were to the twentieth century, Germanicus and his wife were the glamorous couple of the first. They were feted by crowds wherever they went and he enthralled them with his oratory. He was an effective courtroom advocate in Rome, but it was as a successful general in the forests of Germania where he beat the famous rebel Arminius (a.k.a 'Hermann the German') that he made his name and forged his reputation.
For his victories across the Rhine River, in AD 17 the new Emperor Tiberius sent his adopted son to Syria as governor general to bring order to the eastern provinces. It was a fateful promotion. On 10 October AD 19 ancient Rome suffered its own 'JFK moment'. Germanicus Caesar died mysteriously in Antioch, aged 34. His demise shook the very foundations of the Roman state. Initially people did not believe the reports, but once confirmed, shock gave way to tears, then rage. There were riots in the streets of Rome, which lasted months. The walls of public buildings were daubed with the words REDDE GERMANICUM – “Give us back Germanicus!”
The cause of his death has vexed historians for centuries. Hardly had Germanicus' body gone cold when many already suspected murder. Just as a recent Associated Press-GfK poll (2) found that the majority of Americans still believe several gunmen were involved in the murder of the President of the United States in Dallas, the ancient Romans suspected that the death of their war hero and emperor-to-be was the victim of a political conspiracy and a cover-up. The earliest account we have was written by Josephus, who writes some seventy years after Germanicus' death that the accepted view in his day was that he had been poisoned.
Just as Jackie Kennedy stoically nursed the heartbreak of her husband's public death in 1963 and took his body to the nation's capital, almost 2,000 years ago Agrippina mourned her own tragic loss. Having overseen the funeral rites in the marketplace in Antioch, she carried the urn containing his ashes herself back to Rome for burial. When she reached Italy people lined the docksides at Brindisi and the roadsides all the way to Rome out of respect. The American painter Benjamin West captured the moment of her arrival in his famous painting of 1768, which now hangs at Yale University Art Gallery (3); and J.M.W. Turner created a visual fantasy of the same moment in his painting of 1839, now in The Tate, London (4).
Agrippina insisted that her husband's death was murder. Fingers pointed at the governor of Syria, Calpurnius Piso, and, as a deputy of the emperor, even at Tiberius himself. A year after Germanicus' death Piso was put on trial by his fellow senators on charges of murder and treason. It met behind the closed bronze doors of the Senate House as the ordinary men and women of Rome outside loudly demanded justice. Before the process ended Piso was found dead, which only added to the mystery and suspicion. Piso was found guilty of treason, but the Senate rejected the notion of a conspiracy in Germanicus' death. Its verdict – delivered on 10 December AD 20 – was accepted by most, but rejected by many, much like the Warren Commission Report of 1964. Significantly the Roman Senate itself was not convinced poison was the cause.
It may have been an accidental death, caused by a natural disease, perhaps made fatal by his medication, which in those days could be toxic if poorly prepared or taken in the wrong dosage. Germanicus had just returned from a long trip to Egypt to Syria. In the first century the East was a dangerous place for diplomats visiting from Rome. Particularly striking to me is that it is a matter of historical fact that in the 100 years following Germanicus' death twenty-five high ranking Roman officials met their accidental ends in Syria, which they used as their headquarters for their missions in the eastern part of the empire (5). One of them was Emperor Trajan (AD 98-117), who was succeeded by Hadrian. They could not all have died by a conspirator's hand.
Sometimes the historical truth of a mystery is mundane. People die for all sorts of reasons, most without ever a hint of a crime having taken place. If the brutal assassination of Jack Kennedy is “the ultimate homicide case” of modern times (6), Germanicus' death is the unsolved mystery of the Roman world. Whether it is AD 19 or AD 1963, everyone loves an unsolved murder mystery.
One of the consistent conclusions of the many experts who have spoken of the killing of the thirty-fifth president is that it marked a pivot point in US History. Some have even called it “the day America lost its innocence” (7). For Romans too, the passing of Germanicus was a turning point. His premature death was a real setback. Tiberius' rule became gradually more despotic, aided by his pathalogical deputy Aelius Sejanus, and many innocents died as a result.
Time is said to be a great healer, but it also allows memories to be become distorted. Jack Kennedy's reputation has only gained with the passing of the years. Yet he ruled for only a thousand days and saw little of his political agenda realised – it would be left to his successor, the Texan Lyndon Baines Johnson, to achieve that. His near canonical status and enduring popularity are, in large part, because he died before he could disappoint. Centuries earlier, Germanicus never came to power himself, but for the same reason his name remained untarnished after his death and people looked back at him fondly – neither of which could said of Tiberius.
The deeper tragedy is that Germanicus would likely have made a truly great emperor. If he had lived the history of Europe and the world would have taken a very different turn. Instead of Germanicus, his youngest son, Caius, later succeeded Tiberius as Rome's third emperor. He is better known as Caligula.
References
1. http://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/German...
2. http://ap-gfkpoll.com/featured/five-d...
3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAr5YJ...
4. http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/t...
5. Ronald Syme, Governors Dying in Syria, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik, Bd. 41, (1981), pp. 125-144 (on JSTOR at http://www.jstor.org/stable/20186008)
6. http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/...
7. Examples: http://www.cbsnews.com/news/the-jfk-a..., http://nypost.com/2013/11/10/the-day-... and http://www.today.com/books/where-were...
I am referring to Germanicus Julius Caesar (16 BC-AD 19) about whom I have just published a new biography (1). Germanicus was the famous and well educated grandson of Caesar Augustus. When Augustus adopted Germanicus' uncle Tiberius, who in turn adopted his nephew, he was marked out to be the third emperor of Rome.
Like John Fitzgerald Kennedy, he was wildly popular during his lifetime. Poised, handsome and descended from one of the nation's great families, Germanicus married the emperor's beautiful but strong-willed granddaughter, Agrippina the Elder. As John and Jackie Kennedy were to the twentieth century, Germanicus and his wife were the glamorous couple of the first. They were feted by crowds wherever they went and he enthralled them with his oratory. He was an effective courtroom advocate in Rome, but it was as a successful general in the forests of Germania where he beat the famous rebel Arminius (a.k.a 'Hermann the German') that he made his name and forged his reputation.
For his victories across the Rhine River, in AD 17 the new Emperor Tiberius sent his adopted son to Syria as governor general to bring order to the eastern provinces. It was a fateful promotion. On 10 October AD 19 ancient Rome suffered its own 'JFK moment'. Germanicus Caesar died mysteriously in Antioch, aged 34. His demise shook the very foundations of the Roman state. Initially people did not believe the reports, but once confirmed, shock gave way to tears, then rage. There were riots in the streets of Rome, which lasted months. The walls of public buildings were daubed with the words REDDE GERMANICUM – “Give us back Germanicus!”
The cause of his death has vexed historians for centuries. Hardly had Germanicus' body gone cold when many already suspected murder. Just as a recent Associated Press-GfK poll (2) found that the majority of Americans still believe several gunmen were involved in the murder of the President of the United States in Dallas, the ancient Romans suspected that the death of their war hero and emperor-to-be was the victim of a political conspiracy and a cover-up. The earliest account we have was written by Josephus, who writes some seventy years after Germanicus' death that the accepted view in his day was that he had been poisoned.
Just as Jackie Kennedy stoically nursed the heartbreak of her husband's public death in 1963 and took his body to the nation's capital, almost 2,000 years ago Agrippina mourned her own tragic loss. Having overseen the funeral rites in the marketplace in Antioch, she carried the urn containing his ashes herself back to Rome for burial. When she reached Italy people lined the docksides at Brindisi and the roadsides all the way to Rome out of respect. The American painter Benjamin West captured the moment of her arrival in his famous painting of 1768, which now hangs at Yale University Art Gallery (3); and J.M.W. Turner created a visual fantasy of the same moment in his painting of 1839, now in The Tate, London (4).
Agrippina insisted that her husband's death was murder. Fingers pointed at the governor of Syria, Calpurnius Piso, and, as a deputy of the emperor, even at Tiberius himself. A year after Germanicus' death Piso was put on trial by his fellow senators on charges of murder and treason. It met behind the closed bronze doors of the Senate House as the ordinary men and women of Rome outside loudly demanded justice. Before the process ended Piso was found dead, which only added to the mystery and suspicion. Piso was found guilty of treason, but the Senate rejected the notion of a conspiracy in Germanicus' death. Its verdict – delivered on 10 December AD 20 – was accepted by most, but rejected by many, much like the Warren Commission Report of 1964. Significantly the Roman Senate itself was not convinced poison was the cause.
It may have been an accidental death, caused by a natural disease, perhaps made fatal by his medication, which in those days could be toxic if poorly prepared or taken in the wrong dosage. Germanicus had just returned from a long trip to Egypt to Syria. In the first century the East was a dangerous place for diplomats visiting from Rome. Particularly striking to me is that it is a matter of historical fact that in the 100 years following Germanicus' death twenty-five high ranking Roman officials met their accidental ends in Syria, which they used as their headquarters for their missions in the eastern part of the empire (5). One of them was Emperor Trajan (AD 98-117), who was succeeded by Hadrian. They could not all have died by a conspirator's hand.
Sometimes the historical truth of a mystery is mundane. People die for all sorts of reasons, most without ever a hint of a crime having taken place. If the brutal assassination of Jack Kennedy is “the ultimate homicide case” of modern times (6), Germanicus' death is the unsolved mystery of the Roman world. Whether it is AD 19 or AD 1963, everyone loves an unsolved murder mystery.
One of the consistent conclusions of the many experts who have spoken of the killing of the thirty-fifth president is that it marked a pivot point in US History. Some have even called it “the day America lost its innocence” (7). For Romans too, the passing of Germanicus was a turning point. His premature death was a real setback. Tiberius' rule became gradually more despotic, aided by his pathalogical deputy Aelius Sejanus, and many innocents died as a result.
Time is said to be a great healer, but it also allows memories to be become distorted. Jack Kennedy's reputation has only gained with the passing of the years. Yet he ruled for only a thousand days and saw little of his political agenda realised – it would be left to his successor, the Texan Lyndon Baines Johnson, to achieve that. His near canonical status and enduring popularity are, in large part, because he died before he could disappoint. Centuries earlier, Germanicus never came to power himself, but for the same reason his name remained untarnished after his death and people looked back at him fondly – neither of which could said of Tiberius.
The deeper tragedy is that Germanicus would likely have made a truly great emperor. If he had lived the history of Europe and the world would have taken a very different turn. Instead of Germanicus, his youngest son, Caius, later succeeded Tiberius as Rome's third emperor. He is better known as Caligula.
References
1. http://www.pen-and-sword.co.uk/German...
2. http://ap-gfkpoll.com/featured/five-d...
3. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qAr5YJ...
4. http://www.tate.org.uk/art/artworks/t...
5. Ronald Syme, Governors Dying in Syria, Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik, Bd. 41, (1981), pp. 125-144 (on JSTOR at http://www.jstor.org/stable/20186008)
6. http://usnews.nbcnews.com/_news/2013/...
7. Examples: http://www.cbsnews.com/news/the-jfk-a..., http://nypost.com/2013/11/10/the-day-... and http://www.today.com/books/where-were...
The ultimate homicide case of ancient Rome?
Mark Twain is supposed to have said: “History doesn't repeat itself, but it does rhyme.” I was intrigued by one of those apparent rhymes between ancient and modern times when writing my biography of Germanicus Caesar, who was Rome's most popular general, but died under mysterious circumstances. You can read my observations in this piece I wrote for the Ancient Warfare magazine blog here: http://www.karwansaraypublishers.com/...
