Posts Tagged With: Slaves

E is for Epidius

The letter E has been a bit of a dilemma for me – there aren’t many gentilicium that begin with this letter – but there are two that are considered to be families of distinction. What is somewhat remarkable about both of them – the Epidii and the Eumachii  – is that they have a reputation for importance in Pompeian scholarship, yet the evidence is actually somewhat scarce, but in different ways. The Eumachii are known almost entirely because of one person, whereas the Epidii are known primarily from a single place – the family burial plot. The idiosyncratic nature of the evidence for the evidence thus made me decide to derive from form and write about both.

The Epidii are one of the families of what are typically termed ‘indigenous’ Pompeians – that is – their presence in Pompeii pre-dates the time of Roman colonisation in 80 BC. There is some connection between the family name and a god of the river Sarnus. Members of the family are attested in the Sabellian period in some Oscan inscriptions. Castrén claims, somewhat dubiously, twenty-nine individuals that belong to the gens Epidia. (A number of these names are only partially recorded in the witness lists of the tablets of Iucundus, and thus there could be some duplication in Castrén’s prosopography). The most well known member of the family is Marcus Epidius Sabinus, who was a magistrate in the Flavian period. There are numerous dipinti supporting his campaigns for both aedile (which he won) and later for duovir. What is noteworthy about his electoral programmata is the inclusion of an endorsement of an agent of the emperor Vespasian in six of his notices.

CIL IV 768 = ILS 6438d
M(arcum) Epidium Sabinum d(uumvirum) i(ure) dic(undo) o(ro) v(os) f(aciatis) dig(nus) est / defensorem coloniae ex sententia Suedi Clementis sancti iudicis / consensu ordinis ob merita eius et probitatem dignum rei publicae faciat / Sabinus dissignator cum Plausu facit.
‘I beg you to elect Marcus Epidius Sabinus duovir with judicial powers, he is worthy. May you elect one who is a protector of the colony according to the opinion of Suedius Clemens, the worshipful judge, and by agreement of the council on account of his merits and his honesty, worthy of public office. Sabinus, the theatre official, elects him with applause.’

There are at least ten different freedmen whose names appear in the wax tablets of Iucundus that belong to the gens Epidia. This in itself is a testament to the apparent size of the family: the tablets are dated to a decade from the 50s to 60s AD, so document a fairly short period of time in which there were ten or more male freedmen of sufficient status to serve as witnesses to financial transactions. None of these men are attested anywhere else in the epigraphic record except Marcus Epidius Hymenaeus, who also appears in electoral notices as a rogator (CIL IV 7509, 7692) and has recorded his name on the walls of the city (CIL IV 9517, 9518.1-5).

What is particularly striking about this family, however, is their funerary evidence. In the early twentieth century, an area was found approximately five hundred meters from the Porta di Stabia, which upon excavation, revealed the burials of more than one hundred and sixty individuals, believed to all be members of the Epidii family. Known as Fondo Azzolini, this four hundred square meter area features two types of burial: inhumation and cremation. Forty-four of the burials are relatively simple interments of corpses in stone lined graves, following the tradition of pre-Roman burial typical of the Samnite period. The remainder consist of burial of urns containing cremated remains, the use of terracotta libations tubes, and grave markers in the form of columellae. Made primarily of tufa and limestone, they are fairly rough in design in comparison to the marble variants found in the city, and many of them are inscribed. In his publication on the original excavation, Matteo Della Corte (NSA 1916: 287-309) recorded funerary epitaphs on thirty-two of the Roman era burials.

image004

Like so many of those whose name appear as witnesses on the wax tablets, those recorded in the funerary inscriptions are unattested elsewhere in Pompeii. However, based on the nomenclature, the majority appear to belong to slaves, women, and freedmen, so it probably is little surprise that these individuals are otherwise unknown. What this does, though, is clearly illustrate the extended nature of the Roman family. Many also record their ages, which is not unusual in practice, particularly for those who die young, but is nevertheless disproportionately high in occurrence in comparison to other burial areas in Pompeii. Some examples:

NSA 1916: 302.4
M(arcus) Epidius / Monimus / vix(it) ann(is) XXX.
‘Marcus Epidius Monimus lived thirty years.’

NSA 1916: 302.7b
Livia Calliope / v(ixit) ann(is) XXX.
‘Livia Calliope lived thirty years.’

NSA 1916: 303.23
Liberalis / vixit XVII / annis.
‘Liberalis lived seventeen years.’

NSA 1916: 303.66
M(arcus) Epidius / Dioscorus.
‘Marcus Epidius Dioscourus.’

NSA 1916: 303.110
Epidiae / Veneriae.
‘To Epidia Veneria.’

Ultimately, what I find fascinating about the Epidii, is that unlike many of the other prominent families of Pompeii, far more epigraphic evidence survives for the freedmen and slaves of the family than for the men who would have served as owners and patrons. Because so many are to be found in the family’s burial area, it begs the question whether the more elite members of the family were also interred therein, or have the monumental tomb that would be expected of those of their status elsewhere. The fact that Marcus Epidius Sabinus, when running for office, is the sole evidence of support coming from an external magistrate, much less one in the employ of the emperor, suggests that this was a family to be reckoned with. That they had power and prestige is clear, as is the wealth they must have possessed as demonstrated by the number of slaves and freedmen attested. That they are so unobtrusive in the epigraphic record is an anomaly in comparison to other magisterial families.  I, of course, want to know why. Short of finding another tomb or burial area (hang on, I’ll get my trowel!) I’m afraid we’ll never know.

 

 

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Ianuarius the First

Today marks the first day not only of the new year, but also of a new month. January, thought to be named for the Roman god Ianus (or more commonly in English, Janus), was the god of transitions, beginnings and endings, and thus was worshiped at the start or end of new years, new months, wars, harvests, marriages, and other times when a change occurred. He was depicted with two faces, one facing towards the past, and one the future.

janus_viennaRepublican coin depicting Ianus, c. 225-212 BC
(Kunsthistorisches Museum, Wien)

Although there is some confusion about how exactly he was worshiped and how this evolved over time, Ianus was an important deity in the Roman pantheon. Whilst he had his own temple in Rome (the doors of which were closed during times of peace and open during war), there is little evidence for his worship in Pompeii. However, the name itself, Ianuarius (and of course, the feminine version Ianuaria), is found in abundance in both lapidary and non-lapidary inscriptions.  As per usual, many of the graffiti contain nothing more than a single name, so it is impossible to glean much information about either the status of the individual or the family he or she belongs to. But a number of the more formal texts, a few examples of which are contained herein, are more telling.

CIL X 1063 = ILS 5724
Thermae / M(arci) Crassi Frugi / aqua marina et baln(ea) / aqua dulci Ianuarius l(ibertus).
Baths of Marcus Crassus Frugus with seawater and baths with freshwater. Ianuarius, freedman.

These private baths have never been positively identified archaeologically, but the information in the re-used inscription found elsewhere in the city does indicate the baths were managed by the owner’s freedman, and due to the use of seawater, has been posited to be close to the coastline.

CIL X 1027  = ILS 6379
N(umerio) Istacidio Heleno / pag(ano) pag(i) Aug(usti) / N(umerio) Istacidio Ianuario / Mesoniae Satullae. In agro / pedes XV in fronte <p>edes XV.
To Numerius Istacidius Helenus, member of the pagus Augustus, to Numerius Istacidius Ianuarius, to Mesonia Satulla. Depth fifteen feet, fifteen feet in front.

This funerary epitaph, located on a relatively modest tomb outside of the Porta di Ercolano (21S), is believed to have belonged to a group of freedmen of the Istacidii family, who had their own, considerably more elaborate, tomb closer to the city gate (4AS). Although none of the individuals named here, including our eponymous Ianuarius, provide filiation, the membership in the pagus Augustus is one that is exclusively found for other former slaves in Pompeii.

Near another tomb (39AN), on the opposite side of the road, a columella was discovered which bore the following inscription:

CIL X 1022
Lucceia Ianuaria.
Lucceia Ianuaria.

 This tomb is typically identified as belonging to a man named Lucius Ceius Labeoni. If we follow Roman naming conventions for women, the name should be a feminised version of Ceius. What we have instead, in addition to the name Ianuaria, seems a conjunction of the names Lucius and Ceius. This in itself is rather odd, and combined with Ianuaria, may suggest she too is a freedwoman.

In the necropolis at the Porta di Nocera, a very young slave boy is found, both in the titular epitaph of the tomb of Lucius Barbidius Communis (15ES) and on a columella within:

D’Ambrosio and De Caro 1983: 15ES
L(ucius) Barbidius L(uci) l(iberti) / Communis mag(ister) / Pag(i) Aug(usti) Fel(icis) Suburb(ani), sibi et / Pithiae P(ubli) l(ibertae) Rufillae uxori, / Vitali et Ianuario l(iberis).
Lucius Barbidius Communis, freedman of Lucius, magistrate of the pagus Augustus Felix Suburbanus, [made this] for himself and Pithia Rufilla, freedwoman of Publius, his wife, [as well as] Vitalius and Ianuarius, children.

 D’Ambrosio and De Caro 1983: 15ES, n. 11
Ianuarius / v(ixit) a(nnis) II.
Ianuarius lived two years.

There is some disagreement amongst scholars as to whether or not the ‘l’ in the last line of the initial text should be expand as I have it here as liberis or liberti, meaning freedman. However, as both these are in fact children (Vitalius died at the age of three), and have only a single name, it is perfectly clear that they were still in fact slaves at the time of their deaths. There is one further columella of a slave, found some distance from the city, in the Fondo Santilli area.

NSA 1916: 303
Ianuarius / vix(it) an(nos) XXXV.
Ianuarius lived thirty five years.

 Again, we have a single name, indicating the enslaved status of the deceased. There is one final example, from a columella found in the same burial area, which seemingly negates the idea that this is a name used by those of servile origins.

ILS 7663 = AE 1894: 147
Laturnia / Ianuaria Calcaria / vix(it) ann(os) XXXXV.
Laturnia Ianuaria Calcaria lived forty five years.

Whilst it is not unheard of for a woman to have three names, it is a bit unusual in the time from which these burials seem to date and in Pompeii as a whole. One clue may come in the description of the lettering on this columella, which is described as ‘careless’. As there is no evidence for Ianuarius as a gens, it would appear that this text either contains a mistake, or this woman, likely a freedwoman, was given two names when she was a slave.

What I find interesting is that, save the one somewhat suspect example, those who have this name are either slaves or of servile origin, and whilst it certainly is not unusual to find a specific name that is associated with a particular group, I am curious as to what it was exactly about the god Ianus that was attractive as a slave name. It has been claimed that the name Ianuarius was simply given to children born in the first month of the year (in which case, with a birthday in the next few weeks, I am much relieved my parents didn’t adopt that convention), but it would seem odd that only slaves are born that month. What I am wondering, though it is unlikely to be provable, is if some slaves were born with their fate already decided. Was a name derived from the god of transitions and new beginnings assigned to those who their owner one day intended to free?

This may assume far more forethought regarding manumission and slavery than the Romans should be credited with, but it is an idea I find quite attractive at the start of a new year, facing my own transitions, and setting off on a different path. It is sentimental, I admit, but somehow reassuring to think that as you moved through life, you knew, simply from having the name Ianuarius, that someday, you would be given the chance to start anew.

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