Archive for the ‘Roman History’ Category

Thoughts on the decline and fall of the Roman Republic

Thursday, February 9th, 2012

I think the decline of the Roman Republic began in the 3rd century B.C. as the city extended its sphere of control beyond the Italian peninsula and particularly with the Punic Wars. In the Italian peninsula these trends devastated the plebeian farmers who had made up the citizen legions of earlier wars, many of whom were forced of their small farms into the city of Rome. That amounted to a huge transfer of wealth from plebeians to the patricians who operated huge latifundiae using slave labor. The displaced plebs in the cities were politically destabilizing in a system designed to favor the patricians. The republic faced problems with populist leaders such as Tiberius Sempronius Gracchus, his younger brother Gaius, and Gaius Marius.

The extension of wars beyond the Italian peninsula also resulted in the transformation of the citizen legions into professional legions that were dependent on and loyal to their wealthy generals. This resulted in the domination of the Roman government by wealthy military men such as Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus, Marcus Licinius Crassus, and Gaius Julius Caesar. That ended up with a Civil War between Pompey and Caesar, only to be followed by the “second” Triumvirate of Marcus Aemilius Lepidus, Marcus Antonius, and Gaius Octavius Thurinus and yet another Civil War that was the final nail in the coffin of the Senatus Populusque Romanus and the Roman Republic.

Also, it should be noted that the limited scope of republican government during this period was simply too small to govern the growing empire of the Republic; it was mostly drawn from the 300 members of the Roman Senate. The lands controlled by the Senate were simply too complex for such a small administration. One of the features of the transformation of Roman government by Caesar Augustus was a vastly increased Roman bureaucracy.

In the earliest days of the Roman Republic, wars were fought in Italy. There was also a “war season”–in the summer. The Roman legions were comprised of male citizens of suitable age divided up according to their financial ability to provide suitable arms and armor. (An elite class that could afford a horse was “equestrian” (sometimes called “knights” in modern histories) that made up cavalry; the equestrian class existed long after they had anything to do with cavalry, which in Imperial Rome was generally non-Roman auxiliaries). Citizen farmers operating small family farms made up the bulk of the legionary light infantry. This worked reasonably well because they could work their farms in planting season, go off to war in the war season leaving the farm to the care of children too young and elders too old for military duty and women. Then they could return after the war season in the fall for the heavy work of harvesting.

But when wars spread far afield from Italy, and particularly with the prolonged warfare of the Punic Wars, this system broke down in two ways. First, it meant that the family farmer/citizen legionary was away from the farm for extended periods–even years at a time. As a result the farm became less productive and the farmer and his family fell in to serious debt. And eventually the farm would be abandoned or seized by creditors. These farms then became latifundiae of wealthy absentee landowners in Rome operated by slaves. We have records of instances of this very early in the republican period, but it became a major problem in the third century B.C. and after.

Second, the early republican army was largely financed directly by those citizen soldiers, be they light infantry, heavy cavalry, senatorial commanders, or consular generals. The wars weren’t financed by “the government.” The “pay” that the Roman army received was any booty they could get if victorious–and that was distributed pretty much by rank by the generals. But the Punic Wars required full time soldiers whose substances and arms were provided by the legion–i.e., the general. That came partly from the general’s wealth but mostly from the spoils of war. But the point was that it came from men like Publius Cornelius Scipio Africanus, the great hero of the last of the Punic Wars, not from the Senatus Populusque Romanus. So the loyalty of the legion was to the general not to the Roman Republic. And that meant that the likes of Gaius Marius, his nephew Gaius Julius Caesar, and his grandnephew Gaius Octavius Thurinus (aka Gaius Julius Ceasar Octavianus and to history as Augustus Caesar) could use the legions they commanded against the Senatus Populusque Romanus. And while Marius and Caesar both commanded legions under authority from the Roman Senate, both Marcus Licinius Crassus and the young Octavianus commanded legions bought and paid for entirely from their own fortunes without any authority from the Roman Senate. (Tthe young Caesar before he held any magistracy, raised a navy to capture the pirates who had captured him and an army to put down a provincial revolt–again out of his own fortune and some funds he borrowed, probably from Crassius).

But one of the side effects of all of this is that the city of Rome came to be populated by large numbers of impoverished citizens who had been dispossessed of their farms and bankrupted by war, not only because of the system of manning the legions, but the depredations of the armies of Hannibal in Italy as well. These citizens could vote in the popular assembly for laws and magistrates–including the consuls. They could be swayed by appeals for reform and outright bribes. And, if necessary, they could be excited to become outright mobs–something done by both the populares and the optimates. The authors of the U.S. Constitution were quite aware of this and were concerned to avoid this because they had read their Roman history and were aware that it would lead to tyranny.

Students of history frequently seek cause and effect relationships in the past—as I have done here. The tendency is among those mentioned in David Hackett Fischer’s Historians’ Fallacies: Toward a Logic of Historical Thought, especially chapter VI, “Fallacies of Causation.” (See also, Histories and Fallacies: Problems Faced in the Writing of History by Carl R. Trueman.)

The temptation is to draw questionable parallels between history and current conditions in a predictive ways. An example of this is H. J. Haskell’s The New Deal in Old Rome: How Government in the Ancient World Tried to Deal with Modern ProblemsA more recent example would be Are We Rome?: The Fall of an Empire and the Fate of America by Cullen Murphy. I may look at this later. Murphy focuses on Imperial Rome in the second century A.D., but I think the decline and fall of the Roman Republic is perhaps more apt. I our Founding Fathers wished to emulate anything it was republican Rome, not imperial Rome.

Historical events are always unique and unrepeatable, whatever similarities exist between them. While there may be similarities between an event in the past and its presumed causes, there are always significant differences. Among those, it might be noted, is simply the later knowledge of the earlier events and the causal relationships assumed which can later the more modern event. We may, for example, note the extreme disparities of wealth and power in ancient Rome, 18th century France and 19th century Russia and perhaps rightly conclude that they contributed to the “decline and fall” of the respective regimes. We may further note similar disparities in the United States in the 21st century. Whether or not the modern disparity will lead to the ultimate decline and fall of the United States depends in part on how we apply our knowledge of the past to the issues of today.

 

Does the Constitution Establish a Republic or a Democracy?

Thursday, September 8th, 2011

There are some who bray “We are a Republic, not a Democracy!” That is nonsense.

The opening words of the Constitution of the United States are a clear statement of democracy: “We the People of the United States … do ordain and establish this Constitution for the United States of America.” That is about as succinct a statement of democracy as is possible to make.

The Latin word respublica, from res publica, literally “public thing” doesn’t really refer to any particular form of government. For Plato, δημοκρατία, translated into Latin as respublica and hence into English as “The Republic,” the form of government is monarchy. I’m pretty sure that our Founding Fathers did not get that from Plato.

What the authors of the Constitution did get from the Respublica Romana was primarily the idea of “checks and balances”–i.e., two consuls with equal power to check each other’s actions and tribunes of the plebs to check consular actions. (The consuls were actually what the Romans had substituted for monarchy when the Respublica Romana was created after the overthrow of Lucius Tarquinius Superbus in 509 BC. Unfortunately many Americans today are far more ignorant of ancient history and authors than were many of the men at the Philadelphia Convention of 1787.)

In political science the term “republic” has tended to mean a representative form of government, in which some constituency elects government representatives. Thus, for example, the old Soviet government was known as the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics because the governing soviets were elected–whatever we may think about those elections. (The usual American objection, by the way, was specifically that the Soviet elections were not Democratic!)

The Respublica Romana was “democratic” in the sense that the consuls, tributes and magistrates were democratically elected by the populum Romanum, although that was limited to male citizens; freedmen, slaves and women need not apply. The electoral procedures were also rigged in such a way as to make some citizens more equal than others, generally insuring that all the elected magistrates were either patricians or equestrians.

The men who gathered in Philadelphia in 1787 to write the Constitution did borrow to some extent the notion of a Senate, which in the Respublica Romana was restricted to patricians, but whose “constitutional” powers were advisory–i.e., they advised and consented to consular decrees and ratified treaties. In the American version, this Senate served as a check on the excesses of the House of Representatives.

The history of the United States of America has been over the 235 years of its existence to move from an limited democracy to the notion of Thomas Jefferson that “all men are created equal” and later of Abraham Lincoln that our government was “of the people, for the people and by the people.” We, the people, have over those years modified the Constitution through amendments to make the republic more democratic in the sense that all participate equally and share in the election of our representatives. Thus the 15th amendment extends the franchise to persons of color and former slaves, the 17th amendment provides for the direct election of Senators, the 19th extends the franchise to women, the 23rd extends the frachise to citizens living in the District of Columbia, the 24th eliminates the poll tax and the 26th to all citizens 18 year old and older.

I do realize that we do have a minority in the United States who want to undo 223 years of American history and the Constitution of the United States of America to a form of government as they imagine it to have been before 1788 when that Constitution was ratified by the people in representative assemblies. Such people are not conservatives. They are radicals and subversive.

It should be noted that the Articles of Confederation failed miserably. That was why the Founding Fathers met in Philadelphia in 1787 to devise a new form of government–one which, with appropriate amendments made by we, the people, has endured for 223 years.

The Respublica Romana lasted about twice as long, but eventually gave way to a monarchy–even though under the emperors, the government was referred to as the Senatus Populusque Romanus (SPQR) and the government was Respublica Romana.

CANICVS EXERCITVS MODVS (AKA Eutychus the Scribe)

Jesus on Taxation

Friday, September 2nd, 2011

There is much discussion these days about what Jesus had to say about taxes. Actually, he only addressed the question of taxes on one occasion reported in the gospels.

Then the Pharisees went and took counsel how to entangle him in his talk. And they sent their disciples to him, along with the Herodians, saying, “Teacher, we know that you are true, and teach the way of God truthfully, and care for no man; for you do not regard the position of men. Tell us, then, what you think. Is it lawful to pay taxes to Caesar, or not?” But Jesus, aware of their malice, said, “Why put me to the test, you hypocrites? Show me the money for the tax.” And they brought him a coin. And Jesus said to them, “Whose likeness and inscription is this?” They said, “Caesar’s.” Then he said to them, “Render therefore to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.” (Mat 22:15-21 RSV)

Denarius of Tiberius Caesar

Many things can be said of the passage. First, there is a conspiracy to entrap Jesus. It is a trick question. If he says, “No,” the Herodians will report to Herod that Jesus is telling people not to pay their taxes. If he says, “Yes,” then he will anger those who resented paying taxes to Rome. So it is a “trick” answer to a “trick question.”

Exegetically, it should be noted  that there is something important being left unsaid. Jesus and the Pharisees surely knew of the passage in Genesis were we are told that man was created in the “image” and “likeness” of God. (Gen. 1:26-27) So there is an unspoken, but unavoidable parallel: “Whose likeness do you bear?” The coin is Caesar’s and must be rendered to Caesar; you are God’s are must be rendered to God. This, of course, does not give much comfort to those who insist that they and theirs “belong” to themselves alone.

But exegetical subtle aside, the inescapable words of Jesus are, “Yes, pay the tax!”

What about the rest of the argument? Is it “lawful,” according to Jesus to take from the rich by way of taxes to give to the poor. It is contended that Jesus never proposes such a use of taxes. That is true. On the other hand, Jesus never says that it is “unlawful” or “wrong” so to do. At best Jesus is silent when it comes to how tax money is to be used.

But there is more to be said. Specifically, that tax in the Matthew 22:15-21 pericope was used precisely to provide relief to the poor. No doubt the tax was regressive. But it went to Rome where, among other things, it provided free grain to feed the poor in the city of Rome. From time to time the Roman government provided rent subsidies to the poor. From time to time Rome bought land where the city’s poor might be relocated; sometimes the land was confiscated. In addition, that tax was used to build roads, bridges, markets, aqueducts,  baths, theaters, sports facilities public entertainment and even for temple improvements in Jerusalem. It was used to provide protection from thieves and pirates and to defend the borders from aggression. In other words the tax, which Jesus told folks to pay, was used precisely for the same sorts of things that tax revenues are used today–including relief for the poor.

Jesus said to pay the tax. What he did not criticize the way Caesar used those revenues. To somehow draw from this the notion that governments today must not tax in order to provide for the poor to comply with Jesus’ teaching totally misses the mark. Jesus does not say that. Nor does he fault the tax system which existed in his day for “confiscating” someone’s money in order to provide for poor relief and public works.

Literary License?

Sunday, May 29th, 2011

Recently I have been reading a lot of historical fiction with settings in the ancient Roman Empire. And I also have seen the television series Rome and I, Claudius (obviously based on a fictional account by a historian) on DVD.  But I now wonder what the limits of literary license might be. I realize that if one writes a historical novel or produces a television dramatization of some aspect of history the author must enjoy some liberty in “historical reconstruction” for purposes of the story. But when has liberty become license.

Let me begin with the TV series Rome which deals with the period from the conclusion of Caesar’s Gaullic campaign to the early years of the reign of Augustus. All of the expected historical characters are there: Julius Caesar, Cato, Cicero, Pompey, Crassus, Mark Anthony, Atia, Sevillia, Cleopatria. Even the two major characters, Lucius Verenus and Titus Pullo, are “historical,” albeit all we know about them is a one paragraph mention by Caesar in his Gallic Wars; and, for dramatic purposes, Centurian Titus Pullo has been demoted to an ordinary legionary soldier. There was obviously a great effort to attempt to provide a reasonably authentic view of late 1st century B.C. Rome and, for the most part, the portrayals of the major characters and events are reasonably consistent with ancient accounts. But there are, to be sure, significant rewrites. For example, in the opening serious the single, widowed Atia sends the child Octavius off to Gaul to deliver a gift horse to Caesar. What we do know is that Atia had remarried, that she and her husband had sent Octavius off to a country estate as a toddler because he would be safer there than in the city of Rome, and that she was extremely protective of the boy. Even as a man, she resisted his attempts to join the Roman legions. She would have never sent him as a child off to Gaul. Throughout the first season, Octavius is mostly in Rome; the evidence is that he was mostly not in Rome until some time after Caesar’s assassination. But let’s say all this rewriting of history is reasonable.

I have been reading another series of novels, Emperor by Conn Iggulden. The emperor being Julius Caesar. I’ve made it through the first two novels and part of the third. Now it seems a comedy–just how much liberty does a writer of “historical” fiction have with history. The first book deals with a young boy living on his father’s estate with a boy about the same age–Marcus, the son of a mysterious Roman woman of ill repute and an unknown father. The two boys are bullied by a slightly older boy living in the neighboring villa. Admittedly, any account of a Roman boy’s early life is going to be largely fictional. Very little was ever recorded of such and, to some extent an author writing such fiction is going to create using what is known generally about Roman children and something of the author’s impression of modern boys generally. And that is what this novel does.

But the second novel begins to be bizarre.  Marcus now earns the cognomen Brutus. This rides rather roughshod over the fact that Marcus Junius Brutus is a family name going back to the beginnings of the Roman Republic. The first century Marcus Junius Brutus inherited his name from a long line of patricians. And the “Brutus” (meaning “dull, stupid) cognomen was earned by that early ancestor  who feigned stupidity and thus survived possible assassination under the tyrannical last king of Rome. The “mysterious mother” turns out to be Sevillia, a courtesan and operator of a high class whore house. (In the third novel, she appears, opening a branch of her operation in Spain).

Another character appears–a Roman street brat named Octavian [sic], whose widowed mom takes in laundry to survive. While it is true that Octavius’ father had died when he was a toddler, Atia had remarried into a consular family and, as mentioned, Octavius had been farmed out to a grandmother in the country. The novel’s Octavian is taken in by his uncle Julius to get him away from the bad influence of Rome. Atia, apparently is left to take in laundry.

I’ve not finished the third novel, but the fiction grows ever more surreal. We now find Octavian in Spain advancing rapidly in the legion’s officer corps under the tutelage of Marcus Brutus. In Spain Julius Caesar meets up with Sevillia, who is opening a branch office of her whore house, and they fall in love. Yes, Caesar and Sevillia did have an affair–that is historically certain. Caesar is portrayed as a ruthless politician, which doubtless he was. Octavian is a dashing knight in shining armor, which by all accounts he was not. He actually had something of a reputation as a coward.

But all credibility disappears when Caesar, having returned to Rome and begun to campaign for consul, singlehandedly (albeit with the aid of his legion–the famous 10th–and Brutus and Octavian) exposes and suppresses the conspiracy of Cataline. What is really remarkable about this is that somehow Iggulden manages to describe this moment in Roman history without ever a mention of Marcus Tullius Cicero who, by all accounts was the one who by his oratory exposed and broke that conspiracy.

At what point does “historical fiction” cease to be “historical” and become entirely “fiction?”

Decline and Fall of the Roman Republic: Part 1

Saturday, February 12th, 2011

The last king of Rome was Lucius Tarquinius Superbus. He was an Etruscan and a hated tyrant. His son, SextusTarquinius, raped a respected woman, Lucretia which turned out to be the final straw for the Romans. In 508 BC; under the leadership of Lucius Junius Brutus the Romans revolted and exiled Tarquinius Superbus from the city.

A republic was founded under the leadership of two consuls, Brutus and Lucius Tarquinius Collatinus. The consuls were, in effect the new kings of Rome. They were to govern jointly for one year, after which two new consuls would be elected. The fact that there were two and the short term of office ensured that they would be checks on each other and unable to exercise power very long. There was a Senate that served as an advisory body to the consuls. It was probably a royal council under the kings. The senate consisted of the men patrician families.

Rome was a typical city-state of the time. The city was primarily a market place and government center. Most of the citizens lived on farms outside of the city proper. They would come to the city to buy and sell goods, to engage in political activities and to worship the civic gods–that worship not being particularly distinct from the politics of the city. Most religious worship was focused on the home and the gods of the hearth. The civic gods were essentially an extension of the domestic gods.

The politics of the city primarily involved decisions about war. It was organized as an army. The consuls, originally elected by the people from the senate patricians, assumed the military generalship of the legions as the kings had done before them. The citizery was divided into classes depending on their ability to arm themselves for combat. This meant that the wealthiest people–those who could afford to outfit themselves with a horse and the appropriate armor and weapons were equites (horsemen or knights or cavalry).

Thumbs up?

Friday, February 4th, 2011

The study of Roman history confronts one with all sorts of contradictions. There was no middle class; there was a middle class. Gladiatorial fights always ended with someone getting killed. Thumbs up meant mercy; thumbs up meant death.

It seems that the “thumbs up” business is something that Hollywood got wrong. I have no idea why. But here is the historians’ take.

Thumbs up meant death; thumbs down meant life. Why?

Imagine yourself a gladiator. You have just disarmed your opponent and are waiting for a signal to kill or not to kill. In your right hand you hold a gladius by the hilt. The signal will either to let your opponent live or to kill your opponent. Pay close attention to your right thumb.

If the the signal is to let live, you will want to sheath the gladius. Notice your thumb as you do so; it is pointing down.

If the signal is to kill, you will need to kill your opponent. Now you could hack off an arm or leg, but that might not prove fatal. You could lop off his head, but that is actually a bit difficult. The most efficient way to kill with the gladius is to stab your opponent in the heart. And, with the gladius, the stomach is the way to the heart. That is, you will want to thrust the gladius into the opponent’s abdomen in an upward motion toward the chest cavity. Notice your thumb as you do this–it is pointing up.

Thus, Hollywood not withstanding, thumbs up means “kill” and thumbs down means “let live.”

Historians also tell us that the “thumbs up” was rather less common than “thumbs down.” That is to say, gladiatorial combat did not always end in death. Yes, it did for convicted criminals for whom this was the mode of execution. But when two “professional” gladiators met, it was the exception rather than the rule. Why? The reason was economic. Most gladiators were slaves and represented a substantial investment on the part of the owner–purchase price, training and maintenance. The gladiators would be hired by the sponsor of the games. But if a gladiator were killed, the sponsor would be required to pay the owner a premium over and above the hire which would cover the owner’s investment in the slave. So mercy was more common than death.

Decisive Battles of the Ancient World

Monday, January 31st, 2011

I’ve spent 6 hours watching the DVDs of the History Channel’s account of 13 “Decisive Battles of the Ancient World.” It uses game graphics to illustrate the battles. It is cheaper to do that than to hire thousands of actors, stuntmen and extras and outfitting them in ancient garb. Supposedly it gives one a better view of the battles than the generals had-probably true. I’m told the graphics are outdated; could be. Whoever did them seemed to like to show commanders on rearing horses.

The selection of battles ranging from Kadesh between Ramses II and Mursili III in 1253 to Catalaunian Plains between Theodoric I and Atilla the Hun in 451 AD is rather interesting. Most were “decisive” and had historical consequences. A few were a bit strange though. At least two-Cannae and Teutoburg Forest-were more military disasters than decisive of anything. I suppose Teutoburg Forest in 9 BC between the Germans (Arminius) and the Romans (Varus) could be argued as deciding forever whether or not the Roman Empire would ever include a provence of Germania. But Cannae in 53 BC (between the Romans commanded by Varus and the Carthaginians commanded by Hannibal) was simply a disaster for the Romans, but was a case where Hannibal won the battle, but eventually lost the war.

While supposedly, this shows us “how the ancients fought,” it left a lot out. It is, for example, mentioned that the typical Roman legion formation consisted of three rows (each row comprised of several ranks), the first being comprised of the youngest and least experienced legionaries, the second of more experienced veterans, and the third being grizzled veterans.

But it isn’t explained how or why this worked so well. It meant that the attacking force had to do heavy hand to hand combat with that first row.

When the first row weakened or became exhausted, they would withdraw to rest and now the attackers faced a fresh force who were even more skilled than the first. And, should that force weaken or become exhausted, the attackers faced yet a third fresh and even more experienced force. This meant that the legions could wear down any attacker. This also meant that if either of the first two lines should dare attempt to run from the battle, they would encounter the veterans of the legion.

It was also mentioned that the legionary was equipped with a pilum which he threw at the enemy from about 15 yards out. This was an interesting spear. It consisted of a wooden pole about 4 feet in length to which a soft iron rod about 2.5 feet in length ending in a point. Why soft iron? It wasn’t because the Romans didn’t have hardened steel. If, in the worst case scenario, the pilum missed its target it would break, rendering it useless-so the enemy could not pick it up and throw it back. The pilum usually had a lead weight where the iron shaft was riveted to the wooden pole. That gave it additional force when it did hit a target. If it hit an enemy’s shield, it would partly pierce the shield and become stuck. This meant that the enemy soldier now had a shield with a four foot pole sticking out in front of it, effectively rendering the shield a nuisance. He couldn’t stop and extract the spear because by now that legionary who had thrown the pilum was now upon him with his gladius or Spanish sword.

The gladius was an interesting weapon. It was about 18-24 inches in length, relatively short. It was heavy and made of hardened steel-this was not something to break when used. It was sharply pointed at the end. Its primary use was for thrusting. It did have sharp edges along the length of the blade so it could be (and undoubtedly was) used for hacking off legs, arms and/or heads. But the real object was to thrust it into the enemy’s stomach upward. (As it is said, for the legionary the way to the enemy’s heart was through the stomach.) And, unlike most thrusting swords, it did not have groves. The idea of groves on a sword is that it makes it easier to extract the sword once thrust into a victim. The lack of those groves meant that, to withdraw the gladius, it was necessary to twist the sword, thus enlarging the wound. This use of the gladius is not really shown in the animations.

There was only one animation that showed the use of the testudo-the tortoise formation. In this formation the front rank is shielded by the legionaries shields, but the shields of the other ranks are raised overhead, so that the soldiers were protected from arrows and small stones. Incidentally, those shields were oblong, about 4 feet long and 3 wide, made of leather covered wood and quite heavy. Not only did they afford protection, they could also be used as lethal weapons. (In the HBO series, Rome, it shows a legionary shield being use to decapitate an opponent.)

Finally, I found that the series pretty much ignored the Greek and Roman war machines. In one battle the use of catapults is shown. The Greeks and Romans had and used catapults large and small. They were part of the artillery of the ancient army. They were capable of hurling stones up to around 150 pounds a couple of hundred yards or so. The could be and were used not only against walled cities, but against troops in the field.

Another artillery piece resembled a crossbow. Some of them were considerably larger than a crossbow, though. One form was known as the scorpion. All did more than sting. They shot metal tipped darts with great force that could penetrate ancient shields and armor.

Most of this is not shown-either by Hollywood or (with one exception noted) in this series. The Greeks and Romans had other war machines, such as the battering ram and siege towers. One might excuse no mention of these because, as far as I know, none of these machines were used in any of the depicted “decisive” battles.

The 13 “decisive battles” are:

  • 1253 BC Kadesh (Rameses II of Egypt versus Mursili III of the HittitesI)
  • 490 BC Marathon (Athenians versus Darius I of Persia)
  • 480 BC Thermopylae (Leonidas I of Sparta versus Xerxes of Persia)
  • 311 BC Gaugamela (Alexander the Great of Macedonia versus Darius III of Persia)
  • 216 BC Cannae (Varro of Rome versus Hannibal of Carthage)
  • 197 BC Cynoscephalae (Flaminius of Rome versus Philip V of Macedonia)
  • 71 BC Bruttium (Crassus of Rome versus Sparticus)
  • 53 BC Carrhae (Crassus of Rome versus Surena Persia)
  • 48 BC Pharsalus (Caesar versus Pompey)
  • AD 9 Teutoburg Forest (Varus of Rome versus Arminius–aka Herman–of Germany)
  • AD 60 Watling Street (Seutonius of Rome versus Boudicca of Britain)
  • AD 378 Adrianople (Valens of Rome versus Fritigern the Hun)
  • AD 451 Catalaunian Plains (Theodoric I of Rome versus Atilla)