1. INTRODUCTION: THE ROMAN KINGS IN LATE ANTIQUITY AND OROSIUS’ HISTORIAE Footnote 1
We are ruled by judges whom we know, we enjoy the benefits | Of peace and war, as if the warrior Quirinus, | As if peaceful Numa were governing (Claud. IV Cons. Hon. 491–3).Footnote 2
With these words the poet Claudian lauds the Emperor Honorius on the occasion of his fourth consulship in 398 by comparing him to Rome's deified founder, Romulus-Quirinus, and to Numa Pompilius, its second king, who was proverbial for wisdom and piety.Footnote 3 Claudian's panegyric stands in a long literary tradition in which the legendary Roman kings were depicted as models of statesmanship.Footnote 4 This exemplary tradition left its mark on a broad array of late antique works, including historical compendia such as the pseudo-Aurelian De uiris illustribus, which narrates the kings’ deeds as soldiers and statesmen, and the writings of antiquarians such as Macrobius and Servius, who collected information on the kings’ invention of cults and calendars.Footnote 5 Servius’ interest in the kings implies that they featured in the teaching provided by other late antique grammatici as well, and thus that most literate Latin-speakers would have had some knowledge of their deeds.Footnote 6 Advanced education in rhetoric likewise drew on Virgil and other school texts for historical exempla including Romulus and Numa, who appear in panegyrics and in brief histories, such as Eutropius’ Breviary, that probably served as reference texts for the political elite.Footnote 7 The kings thus loomed large in Roman perceptions of the founding of their empire, which began with the heroic Romulus, was strengthened by Numa's establishment of the Roman cultic system, and was secured by the later kings’ political and military successes.
However, as the unusually developed pre-Romulean history of the pseudo-Aurelian Origo gentis Romanae shows, there was no one standard version of Rome's foundational period in late Imperial literature.Footnote 8 Christian writers took full advantage of the continued malleability of the regal period, reinterpreting the kings in their attacks on the pagan Roman past. The apologists, inverting the tropes of panegyric, accused Romulus of violence and perfidy, and charged Numa, the father of Roman religion, with deception and superstition.Footnote 9 The swift rise of Christian power and prestige over the course of the fourth century opened up new approaches to the regal period. Emboldened by Christianity's apparent victory over pagan cult, the poet Prudentius imagined the martyr Lawrence predicting the (figurative) conversion of the two most exemplary kings in his dying prayer: ‘Grant, O Christ, to your Romans that their city be Christian … Let Romulus join the faith, and Numa himself now believe.’Footnote 10 This bold request has been fulfilled, Prudentius implies, in his own day, when even pontifices are converted ‘and the Vestal, Claudia, enters your shrine, O Lawrence’ (Perist. 2.525–8).Footnote 11
The sack of Rome in 410 subjected such triumphalist assessments of the trajectory of Roman history to enormous pressure.Footnote 12 Until this point, Latin Christian writers had only dealt with the regal period piecemeal. Now Augustine, stirred by the challenges of those who blamed Christ for the fall of the City, used an extensive reappraisal of regal and Republican history to show what evils Rome and its empire had ‘endured before the advent of Christ’, and so prove that traditional cult had not secured the temporal goods for the loss of which pagans blamed Christ and his followers.Footnote 13 Augustine's account, which shows none of his own prior confidence in the Christianization of the empire,Footnote 14 is far more thorough in its treatment of the regal period than the brief jabs of his apologetic predecessors.Footnote 15 In order to destabilize pagan confidence in the power and goodwill of their gods, Augustine paints a systematically negative picture of Rome's foundational period. He treats all seven of the kings, but pays particular attention to the parallels between Virgil's Troy and early Rome, to Romulus’ murder of Remus and rape of the Sabines, to Numa's religious innovations and to Tullus Hostilius’ wars with Rome's mother city, Alba Longa (De civ. D. 3.3–6, 3.9–15). However, despite its thoroughness, Augustine's discussion of the kings is both explicitly theological in intent and set in a narrative that is intentionally limited to the early pre-Imperial phases of Roman history. Augustine neither showed how the Roman kings fit into the grand sweep of world history nor traced the succession of events down to the contemporary disasters that had shaken his readers’ minds, and so Christian revision of Roman history remained incomplete.
Augustine left the writing of a more comprehensive historical apology to his associate, a Spanish priest named Orosius. In response to Augustine's request, Orosius penned seven volumes of Historiae aduersum paganos.Footnote 16 Introduced by a worldwide geographical survey, Orosius’ work is an ambitious bid to recast the grand sweep of human history in Christian terms, and so put the present troubles of the Roman empire into proper historical and theological perspective.Footnote 17 As Orosius declares at the opening of the first book, his intention is to trace the record of human suffering and misfortune ‘from the foundation of the world to the foundation of the City, and then to the Principate of Caesar and the nativity of Christ, after which the rule of the world remained under the power of the City, and even to our day’ (1.1.14).Footnote 18 For Orosius, Christ's birth and the founding of the Roman empire by Augustus are the turning points in a history of human woe that began with the fall of Adam (1 prol. 9–16, 1.3.1–2).Footnote 19 ‘Death had reigned, greedy for blood’, before the revelation of the ‘true religion’, but, when Christ was born, the gates of Janus were closed ‘by God's ordaining’ and peace, Christ's ‘servant’, was established in a world subjected by the will of God to Roman dominion (1 prol. 14, 6.1.5–9, 6.22.5). Thus, though human suffering still continues, ‘Christian times’ are ‘nevertheless distinguished on account of the more fully present grace of Christ from the confusion of unbelief’ that went before (7.43.19).Footnote 20 The rise of Christianity is not to be blamed for Rome's plight but thanked for the leniency of the judgement that God has, in his ‘manifest mercy’, brought on the City's sins (2.3.5–10).
Embedded in Orosius’ Romanocentric world history are three distinct discussions of Rome's founding period, at 2.2, 2.4 and 6.1. These are briefer than Augustine's equally comprehensive narrative, yet Orosius’ treatment is no mere supplement to De ciuitate Dei: it is a distinctive and in some places highly original reconfiguration of the regal period. Whereas Augustine's narrative had hinged on the theological ramifications of the kings’ misdeeds, Orosius separates an explicit theological discussion of early Roman history (the focus of 2.2 and 6.1) from his main historical account in 2.4, where he focusses single-mindedly on the disastrous and immoral violence of Romulus and his successors. The kings, in Orosius’ hands, have become characters within an intentionally Christian reinterpretation of the history of the Roman world.
Despite the uniqueness of Orosius’ account of the regal period, it has, with much of his later narrative, been largely neglected.Footnote 21 Orosius’ Historiae, which survives in some 275 manuscripts from the sixth to the seventeenth centuries, exercised a profound influence over Latin late antique and mediaeval approaches to history.Footnote 22 In the fifth century he was praised by Quodvultdeus of Carthage for his historical learning, and was ranked by Sidonius Apollinaris among the ‘sacrosanct fathers’ whose literary authority could be invoked alongside the classical canon (Quodvultdeus, Liber promissionum 2.34.74, Sid. Apoll. Epist. 4.3.7). Modern judgements have not been so kind. To contemporary scholars, Orosius’ account has often seemed inadequate as history and theologically inferior to Augustine's magnum opus.Footnote 23 As Robert Markus put it, ‘Even [Augustine's] own disciple, Orosius, … had wholly failed to understand his master's mind.’Footnote 24 However, as Peter Van Nuffelen has recently demonstrated, Orosius should be viewed not as a failed imitator of Augustine but instead as an active contributor to the Greco-Roman historiographical tradition.Footnote 25 Van Nuffelen's monograph invites further attention to Orosius’ narrative, as well as his theology,Footnote 26 and has thus, in concert with other recent studies of Orosius as historian and Christian thinker, cleared the path for closer analysis of the Historiae in all its complexity and originality.Footnote 27
This paper will provide a case study in Orosius’ historical method through analysis of one particularly important classical theme: the Roman regal period. Van Nuffelen has emphasized the rhetorical quality of Orosius’ Historiae and shown, for several key passages, how his apologetic history adapts classical historiographical techniques to new Christian purposes.Footnote 28 As I aim to show, Orosius’ treatment of the kings reveals a particularly strong interplay between Christian literary aims and classicizing historical method. Each of Orosius’ three contrasting depictions of the regal period advances, in a different rhetorical and narrative context, his fundamental apologetic claim: that the predestining power of the one God is the cause both of Rome's rise and of its sack by the Goths. Orosius’ free adaptation of the myth of Romulus has a thoroughly classical precedent in Cicero's repeated revisions of regal history, yet his apologetic aims lead him to adapt his account of the kings in highly innovative unclassical directions. Thus, he not only highlights the evils of past times—his stated intention (1 prol. 9–16, 2.3.9–10)—but also brings unprecedented, apparently invented features into his account, deviating so far from classical norms that he omits Numa from his main narrative altogether. Even in his rethinking of the regal period, therefore, in which he fits into a recognizably classical mould, Orosius remains, first and foremost, a religious polemicist, whose apologetic aims determine not only the language but also the content of his history.
2. STATESMANSHIP AND PARRICIDE: THE REGAL PERIOD IN CLASSICAL AND EARLY CHRISTIAN LITERATURE
Orosius’ narrative interacts with a long tradition of literary and historical depictions of the Roman kings.Footnote 29 Romulus was an especially important (and especially malleable) figure, but the other kings also had an important exemplary role. At least as early as Cicero's De re publica, Roman authors depicted the kings as models of military virtue and statesmanship, downplaying their more unsavoury deeds. The first two kings, Romulus and Numa, served as complementary exempla of warlike and peaceful rulership. Like Livy after him, Cicero's protagonist, the younger Scipio, praises Romulus for his exploits as general and statesman, and suggests (though only equivocally) that he became a god (Cic. Rep. 2.4–22, 6.28; Livy 1.4–16). In both Cicero and Livy, Numa's pacific reign contrasts sharply with the bellicosity of his predecessor, while his establishment of numerous religious cults continues the march toward a fully developed Roman polity (Cic. Rep. 2.25–7, Livy 1.18–21). Livy sums up well: ‘Thus the two kings in turn enlarged the body-politic … the first by war, the second by peace’ (Livy 1.21.6). Cicero's dialogue, true to its title, focusses largely on the later kings’ contributions to Rome's civic and military institutions, but acknowledges their successes in warfare as well, to which Livy's history gives greater scope.Footnote 30 Virgil's Aeneid and Florus’ Epitome, Orosius’ main sources for the regal period, take a similar approach.Footnote 31 Virgil, despite his frank recognition of the violence of the regal period, underscores the harmony between Romulus and Remus, omits Remus’ death just as Cicero's Scipio had, and, like Livy, depicts Rome's foundation and rise to universal power as divinely fated. Florus, in turn, calls Romulus rex sapientissimus and praises even Tarquinius Superbus’ tyranny because it led to the establishment of the Republic.Footnote 32
As I have already indicated, the kings continued to feature as cultural heroes in a broad array of late antique works, including antiquarian literature like Macrobius’ Saturnalia, philosophical texts like the same author's commentary on Cicero's Somnium Scipionis, and historical compendia aimed at the new political elite.Footnote 33 On all of these the influence of the Ciceronian vision of the kings as model statesmen is clearly visible. Thus, Macrobius narrates how the kings developed the Roman calendar and praises Numa for uniting philosophy with the practical virtue that Romulus had displayed, while panegyrists such as Claudian and Themistius compare emperors to Rome's founder.Footnote 34 Historians, too, emphasized the kings’ civilizing statesmanship: Eutropius, to name one prominent example, uses both Numa and Romulus as political exempla for his addressee, the Emperor Valens, comparing them to Antoninus Pius and Trajan respectively, and stressing Romulus’ cooperation with the Senate.Footnote 35 Many late Imperial historians, Eutropius among them, also omit Remus’ death, even as Cicero and Virgil did, or give accounts less embarrassing to Romulus.Footnote 36 Thus, the average literate late antique Roman, educated on Virgilian commentary and perhaps exposed to the exemplary tradition through panegyrics or historical compendia, would have learned to view the first six kings as paragons of civic virtue, whose state was founded and raised to supreme power by fate, the Romans’ own military prowess and the favour of the gods.Footnote 37
This positive view of the regal period was not, however, the only one available to late antique authors or the classical predecessors upon whom they drew.Footnote 38 Even in De re publica 2, Cicero portrays Romulus’ reign from two different angles, each of which is designed to highlight a different aspect of regal statesmanship. Romulus first appears as a model of political prudence, whose most dubious action, the rape of the Sabines, was occasioned by the same foresight and concern for his citizens that determined his locating of the city and governed his conduct in war (Rep. 2.4–20, especially 12). Soon afterward, however, Cicero emphasizes the warlike ardour of the Romulean Romans, whose potentially deleterious effects he had thus far overlooked, and so accentuates the advantages brought by Numa's peacefulness (Rep. 2.25–7). The readers of De re publica thus receive in quick succession two subtly different, though complementary, pictures of Romulus, the first of which emphasizes his excellence as a statesman, the second the partial superiority of his successor.Footnote 39 This slight shift in Cicero's portrayal of Romulus hints at the sharper transformations that Rome's first king could undergo, as he does, several years later, in Cicero's De officiis. Here, Romulus appears in starkly altered guise: not as a wise statesman but as a parricide, whose crime remains whether he is considered to have been a man or—as Cicero's Scipio had implied—a god (Off. 3.41 peccauit igitur, pace uel Quirini uel Romuli dixerim; Rep. 6.28).
Cicero's initial glorification of Romulus was bound up with his experiments in the deification of statesmen,Footnote 40 while his eventual condemnation of the legendary first king appears to have been driven by Caesar's attempts to claim Romulus for his own political project.Footnote 41 Yet, neither vision of Romulus died with Cicero. Even after the passing of the Republic, Romulus continued to be used not only by panegyrists of the Roman past but also by those who called into question the praiseworthiness of Rome's political or religious traditions. Horace, writing some years after Cicero's death, condemned Romulus’ murder of Remus as a precursor to the civil strife with which the contemporary Roman world was convulsed (Epod. 7.17–20). Historians put similar criticisms in the mouths of non-Romans: thus, Justin's Epitome of Pompeius Trogus, one of Orosius’ key sources, has Aetolian ambassadors accuse the Romans of theft, rape and fratricide, echoing the charge advanced by Sallust's Mithridates (Just. Epit. 28.2.8–10, Sall. Hist. 4.69.17).Footnote 42
Christian apologists from Tertullian onward gladly adapted these polemics to their own purposes, adding to them a religious note distinct from that evoked by Cicero: not only was Rome's founder a fratricidal rapist who was fraudulently made a god by the Senate after his murder, but, more importantly, Rome's blood-stained beginning proves that the Romans owe their empire to chance or divine providence, not pagan cults.Footnote 43 The apologists, mirroring the typical focus of other users of royal exempla, also included Numa in their religiously motivated critiques of early Rome. Augustine developed these arguments with characteristic incisiveness, attacking Romulus’ dubious conception (a deed morally indistinguishable, he says, from Paris’ adultery with Helen or Venus’ with Anchises), his fratricide and the rape of the Sabines, and demystifying the peacefulness of Numa's reign, which he credits to the favourable attitude of the Romans’ neighbours rather than to Numa's religious innovations (De civ. D. 3.3–6, 3.9–13). He also dwells at length on the violent deeds of Numa's successors, to which his predecessors had paid less attention: Tullus Hostilius’ overthrow of Alba Longa, with the battle of the Triplets and the murder of Horatia by her victorious brother, and the crimes of Tarquinius Superbus, which proved (so Augustine says) that the gods’ sole aim was not to help the Romans but rather to ‘seduce them with vain victories and grind them down in the most serious wars’ (De civ. D. 3.14–15). The ultimate target of Augustine's polemical subversion of Roman historical triumphalism is thus the worship of the gods, whom he casts as demonic agitators unable and unwilling to bring their worshippers true victory or peace.
3. OROSIUS’ THREE ACCOUNTS OF THE KINGS
Both pagan and Christian authors provided Orosius with fruitful models for polemical engagement with the regal period of Roman history. Nevertheless, Orosius’ discussions of the regal period follow a methodology which he self-consciously distinguishes from that of his predecessors. As he declares in the preface to his third book, he describes not simply the bella of previous histories but bellorum miseriae and other disasters, reporting the same res but pointing to different causae, namely the human wickedness and divine punishments that have marred world history.Footnote 44 Orosius’ history is thus apologetic in intent, yet, unlike earlier apologetic works, it aims not to refute pagan religion comprehensively but instead to prove from history that Christianity has helped, not harmed, the world.Footnote 45 In order to construct a pro-Christian account of regal Roman history, Orosius not only borrows elements from Virgil and pagan historians but also modifies both the events themselves and the historical framework in which they appear, in order to accentuate the miseries of Rome's founding. In the course of the Historiae, he, like Cicero long before him, repeatedly revisits the events of early Roman history, recasting them in noticeably different form each time, in order to demonstrate that Christianity has benefitted Rome. Orosius’ account is thus neither purely classical nor entirely a Christian polemical innovation, but combines new elements of his own with established tropes and techniques drawn from apologetic and classical literature.
Orosius begins his reshaping of Rome's past in Book 1, where he reports a few select incidents of Roman prehistory: the fall of Troy, to which he contrasts Alaric's sack of Rome; Aeneas’ wars in Italy, which he dismisses in a single sentence; and the impiety of the Latin king Aremulus, which he links, in an apologetic aside, to the cruelty of Phalaris of Agrigentum (1.17.1–18.1, 1.20.5–6). The events of Roman prehistory as enshrined in Livy and Virgil thus become additional disasters that struck ab orbe condito usque ad Vrbem conditam (1.1.14), rather than the first steps towards Rome's fated glory. Roman prehistory, rather than initiating a glorious and seemingly predetermined path leading to the foundation and rise of Rome, is simply another, even more vivid proof of the corruption and brutality of the pre-Christian world, in which God's protection of his people and vindication of their mistreatment were already manifest.Footnote 46
Orosius builds upon this attack on Roman historical pride at the beginning of Book 2, where he argues that the four great empires (Babylon, Macedon, Carthage and Rome) received their power from God (2.1–3). Similar lists of empires appear in other works, including Daniel and Justin's Epitome, but Orosius deploys the argument in a novel way, constructing a complex series of chronological coincidences among the four kingdoms.Footnote 47 He uses this scheme to foreground Christianity's role in the preservation of Rome, which was sacked, so he claims, exactly as many years after its founding as passed between Babylon's founding and its fall.Footnote 48
Orosius can only argue this, however, by measuring Rome's beginning from ‘Procas, father of Amulius and Numitor but grandfather of Rhea Silvia, who was Romulus’ mother’, with whom, he claims, ‘all Roman histories begin’ (2.2.3–4).Footnote 49 Although most of Orosius’ sources begin with Aeneas or Romulus, this assertion is exaggeration rather than sheer invention.Footnote 50 Orosius has already discussed Aeneas and Aremulus, using the fall of Troy and the evils of ancient Italian existence to highlight the benefits of contemporary life; here, he foregrounds Procas in order to show, with the help of his chronological calculus, that Rome came to power by God's providential ordaining, ‘not by human strength or chance accidents’ (2.2.4).
Despite his importance for Orosius’ chronological scheme, Procas plays no part in his narrative of Rome's founding. Orosius’ aim, now that he has demonstrated the supposed connection between Babylon's sack and Rome's founding—and thus between the rise of Christianity and Rome's survival in 410—is to prove to his pagan opponents that ‘their ancestors’ times’ were full of wars, misery and criminality (2.3.9). The traditional Livian version of the Romulus legend could have provided Orosius with material for polemic, but Orosius does no more, for now, than nod at this version in his genealogy of Romulus in 2.2. Instead, he chooses to focus on the evils of Romulus’ own reign. He therefore starts his account directly with the city's establishment ‘by Romulus and Remus, twin founders’, and further brackets his narrative off from what precedes by the introduction of a new chronological framework. In this scheme, Rome's foundation is tied not to the fall of Babylon, as in 2.1–3, but instead to the Greek system of dating by Olympiads and, more pointedly, to the fall of Troy (2.4.1).Footnote 51 Orosius thus adopts an obscure version of the Roman foundation myth in order to advance his argument for the providential ordering of Roman history; however, once that version has played its purpose, he abandons it so as to focus on the wickedness of Romulus, even eliminating material, such as the rape of Rhea Silvia, that Augustine, for example, had found suitable for polemic (De civ. D. 3.3–5).Footnote 52
Orosius’ revision of the events of Romulus’ reign goes deeper than simple selectivity, however. ‘Romulus immediately stained [Rome's] kingdom’, he asserts, ‘with parricide’ and ‘dowered “the Sabine women, snatched contrary to custom” … with the blood of their husbands and fathers’ (2.4.2).Footnote 53 Moreover, he ‘dedicated the kingdom with his grandfather's blood, its walls with his brother's, its temple with his father-in-law's’ (2.4.3).Footnote 54 Here Orosius does not limit himself to reinterpreting the facts of Roman history as found in Virgil and Florus, whom he quotes at 2.4.2 and 2.4.7, but introduces the unprecedented assertion that Romulus killed his grandfather, Numitor. Romulus is often said to have killed his great-uncle Amulius (whom Orosius will also term a ‘grandfather’ in 6.1.14) in restoring Numitor to the Alban throne, and some scholars have therefore suggested that Orosius simply made a clumsy mistake.Footnote 55 However, the alteration is unlikely to be an error, as it adds to Orosius’ case: by depriving Romulus of any praise for restoring Numitor, Orosius is able to reduce Romulus’ rise to power and founding of Rome, which was already subject to criticism because of Remus’ death and the rape of the Sabines, to an impious bloodbath.Footnote 56
Nor does that bloodbath stop with the deaths of Numitor and Remus. Augustine had accused the Romans of killing their fathers-in-law;Footnote 57 Orosius takes this one step further and accuses Romulus himself of that crime.Footnote 58 Furthermore, he omits from his account details Augustine had retained from Florus, including Romulus’ prayer to Jupiter and the women's intercession.Footnote 59 Instead, he states that Romulus fought his first battle in the forum, which presaged unending wars, both foreign and civil, to come (2.4.4). Orosius immediately begins to recount those wars, telling how Romulus killed the pious old Sabine leader, Titus Tatius, because he wanted no co-ruler; here he stands with Augustine against the rest of the Latin historiographical tradition in imputing Tatius’ death to Romulus himself.Footnote 60
Absent from Orosius’ account is any trace of the rex sapientissimus who, according to Florus, had organized the Sabines and the Romans into tribes and had conscripted the Senate (Flor. 1.1.1.15). Instead, Orosius focusses entirely on Romulus’ most violent and disreputable actions, adding a few incidents that he has apparently invented. Thus, he turns Romulus, a traditional exemplum of statesmanship, into a paradigm not only for Rome's bellicosity toward foreigners but also for her internecine struggles, which Florus had found so shameful (Flor. 1.47.1–3). His choice to omit Numa, whose closing of the gates of Janus he mentions at 3.8.2 and 4.12.4, and instead to describe the ‘endless strife’ of the later kings is, therefore, part of a broader pattern of omission, which parallels and inverts pagan authors’ frequent omission of Remus or of his murder (2.4.8).Footnote 61 Here comparison with Augustine is especially instructive. Both men attack contemporary nostalgia for the past, yet Augustine's account has an ulterior theological aim: to prove that the worship of the traditional Roman gods did not bring peace or prosperity to the Romans of the regal and Republican eras.Footnote 62 In order to prove his point, Augustine has to explain away the proverbial peacefulness of Numa's reign, which he does by contrasting it with the violence of later Roman history, in which the selfsame gods whose cults Numa had established were still being worshipped (De civ. D. 3.9).Footnote 63 Orosius’ focus is narrower: to show with clarity the unbroken misery of Rome's foundational period, and thus—but only indirectly—to encourage pagans, horrified by the sufferings of ‘their ancestors’ times’, to pray to God to avert such disasters ‘by his manifest mercy’ (2.3.9–10). Attacking the pagan gods head-on would only distract from his history of Roman suffering and iniquity, and so Orosius omits Numa's reign along with the civic and religious activities of the other kings. Instead, he summarizes the later kings’ dubious military exploits, devoting one sentence each in oratio obliqua to Tullus Hostilius, Hostilius’ enemy Mettus Fufetius, Ancus Marcius, Tarquinius Priscus, Servius Tullius and Tarquinius Superbus (2.4.9–11).
Orosius’ report is exceedingly brief. Although he describes the reign of Tullus Hostilius at greater length than the reigns of the next three kings, he omits from his account of the Alban War the destruction of Alba and the murder of Horatia, which Augustine had described in eloquent detail in De civ. D. 3.14. Instead, he withholds moral judgement until he arrives at Tarquinius Superbus, who ‘assumed the kingship’ by parricide, ‘retained it by his cruelty’, and ‘lost it’ because of the rape of Lucretia, ‘even amidst domestic vices and virtues that were conspicuous abroad’ (2.4.12).Footnote 64 The resemblance between Tarquinius, who gained, expanded and lost the kingdom because of his wickedness, and Romulus, who founded and strengthened it by parricide, is striking. So too is Orosius’ attribution of uirtutes to Tarquinius. He seems to be using the word ironically in its older sense of ‘acts of courage’;Footnote 65 nevertheless, Tarquinius is the only king Orosius so commends, and he has similar praise only for Titus Tatius, whose pietas he uses to highlight Romulus’ impiety. Only Rome's enemies, therefore, displayed pietas, that quintessential Roman virtue, at her founding, and the only king who displayed any sort of virtue became so hated that his subjects abolished the kingship itself (2.4.13–15).Footnote 66 Rome's sufferings did not end with the kings, however, for Brutus ‘the first consul … hastened … to outdo the first founder and king of Rome in parricide’, killing his own sons (2.5.1).Footnote 67 Thus, the consulship, rather than marking the beginning of new liberty for the Romans, only continued the criminality and bloodshed of the regal period.Footnote 68
Orosius’ aim in 2.4 is to convince his readers of the wickedness and misery of Rome's founding period; he thus attacks or omits traditional exempla such as Romulus, Numa and Brutus, and disparages the Romans by praising Tatius and Tarquinius. In so doing, he not only negates, omits or distorts the events of the narratives that he had received from Virgil, Florus and the Livian tradition but also departs from the account, centred on Procas, that he had used, immediately before, to tie Rome's founding into the providential order of history. In 6.1 he revisits Romulus’ reign yet again, reintroducing the events of the Livian birth story that he had acknowledged in 2.2 and suppressed in 2.4. His aim this time is more Augustinian: to refute the idea that pagan worship led to Rome's dominion. Who was it, he asks, whose worship won the gods’ favour for Romulus? ‘Was it his grandfather Amulius, who exposed him?’Footnote 69 ‘Was it his father, who was unknown?’ Was it his unchaste mother? What about the ‘Alban fathers’ and ‘all Italy’, who assailed his kingdom (6.1.13–14)? Perhaps it was the gods’ future, Roman worshippers on whose behalf they were acting, but, if so, they erred in failing to foresee the coming of Christ, who would dethrone them (6.1.15–27). God, who was preparing for the evangelization of the world, not the gods, elevated Rome to universal dominion (6.1.5–9).
Here, Romulus, far from being the horrible parricide of 2.4, is an illegitimate nobody, ‘a shepherd of the poorest estate’ who was beset by ‘evils even from birth’ (6.1.5, 6.1.13). Orosius does not even allude to Romulus’ personal wickedness, which he could have used to disqualify him from being a suitable worshipper of the gods. Instead, he reintroduces the traditional elements of the birth legend that he had omitted from 2.4, in order to attack not Romulus himself but rather the idea that he and his kingdom came to power through pagan piety. At the same time, however, he keeps the war-torn early history of Rome fresh in the reader's mind by referring to the wars between Rome and the Albans and the Italians. As in 2.4, Orosius’ aim is to tear down pagan perceptions of the Roman past; his target has shifted, however, from the Roman kings to Roman cult, and his narrative has changed accordingly. The book will end, fittingly, with the divinely ordained establishment of peace by Augustus Caesar and the birth of Christ as a citizen of Rome, a fact that proves that he, and no other, ‘advanced this city, which was enlarged and defended by his command, to the apex of human affairs’ (6.22.1–9).Footnote 70 The glory and peace of the Roman empire and the ‘Christian times’ that were then ‘beginning to bud’ stand in stark contrast to the ignominy and violence in which Romulus was born and his kingdom was founded, yet both display the providential control of God over the destiny of Rome and the world that it had come, by his ordaining, to rule.Footnote 71
Orosius, therefore, freely reshapes the stories of the kings, not only as they appear in his sources but even as he himself has developed them, in accordance with the apologetic demands of his history. His apologetic purpose remains paramount throughout and leads both, in 2.2 and 2.4, to his rapid and repeated reorientations of Roman history, and, in 6.1, to his inclusion of many traditional elements that he had previously suppressed. Thus Orosius, by selecting, modifying and occasionally inventing events from Roman prehistory, seeks to convince his readers not only that early Rome was more violent than the Roman empire of his own day but also that pagan cults had never benefitted the Romans. Only God, who by his providence elevated the ill-born insignificant Romulus to kingship and lifted Rome, which Romulus founded in wickedness and slaughter, to universal dominion, is therefore worthy of worship, and the neglect of his worship, not of pagan cults, has led to the city's sack (7.37.17, 7.38.6–7).
4. CONCLUSION: OROSIUS AS HISTORICAL APOLOGIST
Each of the three perspectives on the founding of Rome that Orosius depicts for his readers contributes to his comprehensive historical defence of Christianity. Each, moreover, is carefully shaped to fit into its precise context within his apologetic history. This approach has clear antecedents in earlier Roman literature. His repeated remoulding of Romulus, in particular, parallels Cicero's, while his selectiveness in presenting the events of the regal period is a negative mirror of the approach taken by historians such as Eutropius and Florus. However, Orosius engages in this reinvention precisely in order to subvert the triumphalist view of the Roman past and of Rome's place in the world that many of his predecessors—and, it would seem, many of his contemporaries—took for granted. His history of the kings is thus not simply an inverted reflection of more typical classical accounts but rather a substantial retelling of the events that he narrates, which he repeatedly alters in order to support his case for the corruption of the pre-Christian era and the divine control of history. Contrary to his programmatic claim at 3 praef. 1, his polemical aims, not the ‘facts’ of any prior historical tradition, are what finally determine the shape and content of his narrative of the kings. This recognition undercuts any straightforward characterization of Orosius as a classicizing historian, yet only highlights the literary independence and creativity of his pointedly polemical and deliberately Christian history. It is too simplistic, therefore, to characterize Orosius’ tendentious interpretation of the legends of the kings as falsification of an established ‘historical’ record:Footnote 72 Orosius, on the contrary, is making a novel contribution to a long tradition of polemical reinvention of Rome's early history.