VB series. Victoriatus, uncertain mint circa 211-208, AR 3.34 g. Laureate head of Jupiter r. Rev. Victory crowning trophy; in lower field, VB ligate and in exergue, ROMA. Sydenham 113. Crawford 95/1a. NAC 61 (05/10/2011) lot 396 .
So I love maps and I was just adding a beautiful map from Fronda’ Between Carthage and Rome to yesterday’s post when I notice a place called Vibinum. I’ll happily admit its not a topographical location whose historical significance I’ve ever considered, although modern Bovino is quite pretty indeed. Here’s Fronda on its possible position during the 2nd Punic War (2010: 86 n. 152):
It occurs to me that of the VB series whose mint is usually listed as unknown is found in large numbers in the Canosa hoard. Anyway. VB is probably just some junior official. No coins of Vibinum are known or much else about it for that matter! Just thought I’d share the wild speculation for kicks. (And because the specimen above is just so beautiful!)
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When Mommsen attributed this type to Vibo Valentia, he did not have the benefit of any strong dating evidence. Vibo was not founded until 192 (planned 194; Livy 34.53 and 35.39) and once it was founded it used Valentia on its coins not Vibo.
To my mind one of the most interesting aspects of the secondary marks on the early denarius, victoriatus and related issues is when they begin to experiment with different types of secondary symbols. Most of the secondary symbols that appear on the coinage of the Hannibal War had already been in use as control marks on the didrachm series with Roma and Victory (RRC 22): cornucopia, crescent, caduceus, anchor, rudder, dolphin, star, pentagram, club, corn-ear, wreath, and so on…. These are relatively common symbols into which its dangerous to read too much particular meaning. Other issues are signed by the responsible magistrates, most certainly on Sardinia (RRC 63-65) and Sicily (RRC 74–75). I particularly like how we can see the development towards longer abbreviations on Sardinia. The praetor of 211 BC just uses the first letter of his nomen, ‘C’ for L. Cornelius Lentulus (RRC 63). The praetor of 210 uses two letters, ‘MA’ for P. Manlius Vulso (RRC 64). And finally in 209, the praetor C. Aurunculeius uses three letters ‘AVR’ (RRC 65). We don’t know the position or identity of the Sicilian magistrates, C.VAR and C.AL, but c. 209-208 they choose to use their praenomen initial, as well as an abbreviation of their nomen. This type of signing of issues by junior officials will become standard at Rome in the future. We can look to the signed Egadi rams for a possible comparable phenomenon. On other issues the letters seem to be used to designate the place of issue rather than a magistrate, such as at Luceria, Canusiumand Corcyra (RRC 97-98A, 100, 101). The place names and magistrates names may simply be thought of as functional elements for the purposes of identifying the source and/or authority behind the issue. We need not read them as acts of self-aggrandizement.
Then there are the other abbreviations the resolution of which is more controversial: are they indicating magistrates or places? (e.g. RRC 92-95). We can easily find places to match the abbreviations, but then fitting those places as possible mints into the historical narrative of the Hannibalic War becomes very problematic. I’m not proposing to resolve these difficulties here.
It has long been recognized that the wheat-ear functions as symbol of Sicily on certain issues. More interesting are some of the more ‘creative’ symbols used by the Sicilian mint, one’s we’re not absolutely positive about their identification. A possible bit-drill (so Hersh for RRC 77) and measuring stick (RRC 78) and the pick-ax that might be a canting pun (RRC 73), but also isn’t that different from the ceremonial hammer found on coins from central Italy (RRC 59). Then there is also the very odd serrated issue of denarii with a wheel (RRC 79). Did the Sicilian mint have a fashion for practical tools as symbols? Why?
On to the meat of the matter:
The Sicilian symbols help us see that there was room for experimentation with the range of symbols. The introduction of three new symbols onto the coinage stand out in particular: the torque, the falcata, and the carnyx and shield. None of these elements are typical elements in Hellenistic art, but are instead identifying attributes of Roman enemies, especially elements that the Roman troops actually encountered on the battlefield. Both the torque and the carnyx appear frequently enought on the republican series and other media to make them familiar symbols to numismatists and art historians alike. That said, their first appearance on the coinage is noteworthy. These issues borrow a symbol of the enemy and display it on the coinage like a trophy of war, the appropriation of the symbol representing the defeat of the fearsome aggressor. The torque victoriatus is very rare (RRC 91/1a; two in the BM and one in trade). Frankly, if we didn’t have a preconceived idea of what a torque looked like it would be a difficult symbol to decode, looking rather like an omega. The carnyx and Gallic shield is far more common and the iconography beyond dispute (RRC 128; examples in trade, ANS specimens). The falcata is called a knife by Crawford, but as one independent scholar has recognized, the republican coins are clearly representing the typical Iberian weapon.
Discovered in 1867 in Almedinilla (Province of Córdoba, Andalusia, Spain). Now in the National Archaeological Museum of Spain.
The falcata is depicted in Iberian funerary art as well (Blázquez 1988: 506; cf. Osuna relief). It’s two occurrences on Roman coins should be seen as akin to depictions of carnyx, i.e. as appropriated symbols of the defeated enemy.
Reverse of RRC 120/1. ANS 1988.82.15.Reverse of RRC 109/1. ANS 1991.7.3.
All of this is important because, taken together, these three types represent a critical development in the ‘money as monument’ phenomenon at Rome. Just as actual torques, carnyces, shields, and falcatae were displayed in Rome as the spoils of war –dedicated in temples and hung on the houses of the generals as lasting testimony to the victories — so too the alien symbols on the coinage testify to the defeat of a specific formidable foe.
This is perhaps a natural evolution from, say, the display of enemy ship rams on war monuments and their appearance on the coins.
It makes me really irritated I couldn’t get MS Word to make the whole table into a picture only a half at a time.
Yesterday I wanted to add something to chapter 6 about the coins of the mid 80s, that irritating in-between-time where the coins are full of strange gods we can’t quite identify. As I looked at them, I realized that I just did’t have a big picture regarding countermarks on coinage in my head. [That’s not for lack of opportunity. I’ve supervised a masters thesis die study of a countermarked issue and chaired academic panels with papers on the subject.] Taking a no-time-like-the-present approach, I did a down and dirty survey of RRC, taking notes as I went. The picture above is the result of those notes. There are much better charts and analyses in many publications, but if I didn’t do one myself no matter how crude I’d never get the material stuck in my head properly. I’m sure there are inaccuracies and missing elements, but I hope it captures the overall trends. Pink are were Crawford thought countermarks were die specific. Blue where they are not. Light pink is for apparent attempts to be die specific with known inaccuracies. Hashed pink is where some sub types are die specific, but others are not. Dark pink is where countermarks indicate die pairs. Dark blue are for where die pairs are present, but the pairs are represented by multiple dies. Grey is for too little information. The dates defer to Mattingly and Hollstein’s adjustment of Crawford’s chronology.
The use does not perfectly map onto the use of serrated edges BUT it does follow the same trend. Early isolated experimentation in Sicily. A little recurrence in the mid/late 2nd century, and then a much more serious adoption around 104/103 BC. The difference is that countermarks stay in use almost continuously. They taper off a bit in the mid 90s, are steady in 80s with a HUGE effort to use them right over the 83-79 period, and then they tale off in the 70s with a revival at the very end of the 60s early 50s.
Serrating each flan is a huge amount of effort and is likely to have drastically slowed production. Countermarks, especially per die or coordinated applications, also require significant efforts, but are more logistically challenging, rather than man-power challenging. What the chart above doesn’t capture are trends in types of systems: letters, numbers, symbols, combinations thereof, variations with dots and Greek letters, or double letters, or consonants with vowels. No one system is dominant. The hope has been that die studies of countermarked issues can tell us more about the operations of the Roman mint. Many such studies have producing tantalizing insights and likely hypotheses. All the different systems mean that countermarks can’t have served a single administrative function. Like the serrati their popularity and also the experimentation with new systems and revivals of old systems may be about inspiring confidence in the money supply — to be seen to be producing GOOD coin. 45 out of 66 issuers who used them managed some degree of die-countermark coordination.
As a historian I’m most interested in what caused the 104/103 adoption. The intensity during the time of the Sullan return and dicatorship is not unexpected, if it is about creating confidence in the money supply, but certainly not worth that such systems are applied even to camp coinages presumably made in less than ideal conditions under serious pressure. Similarly the tail end. Why the revivals? Why the complete cessation? More of a whimper than a bang…
I am also curious about its application to some quinarii. The quinarii is never serrate. And it is usually associated with particular applications and especially associated with Cisalpine Gaul…
Liv Mariah Yarrow 