he also erected statues from his plunder in temples on the island of
Samothrace and at Lindos on Rhodes, while Livy points again to the
collection in the Temple of Honor and Virtue, as well as offering a nice
example of the plunderer receiving a taste of his own medicine.
Marcellus’ dedications in his temple were once of such high distinction
that they were a tourist attraction for foreigners; but by the time Livy
was writing, the majority were lost, presumed stolen.16
Some of the categories of booty mentioned in Livy’s catalogue are
found commonly in accounts of earlier celebrations. The display of cap-
tured weapons is a recurrent theme in narratives of triumph as far back
as the fifth century bce.17 Elephants too were part of the literary tradi-
tion of earlier celebrations. In fact, both Manius Curius Dentatus in 275
bce and Lucius Caecilius Metellus in 250 were credited as the first to dis-
play these terrifying live war machines as part of their captured spoils.18
But more significantly, the “menu” of booty in the procession of 211 bce
looks forward to the series of increasingly rich and elaborate triumphs of
the succeeding centuries—or at least richly and elaborately written up.
Th e
R o m a n Tr i u m p h
1 5 0
We can almost use Livy’s admittedly skeletal register of Marcellus’ booty
as a basic template for some of the extravagant occasions that followed,
the “classic triumphs” of the surviving literary record.
Appian’s account of Scipio Africanus’ triumphal display in 201, for ex-
ample, divides into similar categories, including models of captured
towns and paintings showing the events of the war, the precious metals
(whether as coin, bullion, or art work), and the captured elephants,
while adding the “gold crowns” presented, willingly or not, to the victo-
rious general by “allies or the army itself ” and put on show in the pro-
cession along with the booty.19 In Livy’s description of the triumph of
Flamininus over the Macedonians in 194, no captured animals are listed,
but many of the other types of booty are highlighted, in enormous
quantity and sometimes specific detail. There were “arms and weapons”
(Plutarch notes precisely “Greek helmets and Macedonian shields and
pikes”), plus statues of marble and bronze, possibly including a statue of
Zeus that Cicero claims Flamininus took from Macedonia and dedi-
cated on the Capitol in Rome. Bronze and silver was on show in all
shapes and sizes, including 43,270 pounds of silver bullion alone, ten sil-
ver shields, and 84,000 Athenian coins known as tetradrachms. In addi-
tion, the gold amounted to 3,714 pounds of bullion, one solid gold
shield, 14,514 Macedonian gold coins, and 114 gifts of golden crowns.
The quantity was such that it took three days to process through the
streets of the city—the first three-day triumph.20
Even more vivid, extravagant, and exotic are the descriptions of two
later celebrations, which almost rival those of Pompey’s triumph. The
first is the procession, again over three days, celebrating the victory of
Aemilius Paullus against King Perseus in 167 bce—whose overflowing
booty, lovingly detailed by Plutarch among others, serves as a piquant
contrast with the personal tragedy and “impoverishment,” in another
sense, of the triumphing general himself. The first day of the show,
he writes, “was hardly sufficient for the captive figures, paintings, and
colossal statues, carried along in 250 carts.” The second day saw im-
pressive wagonloads of enemy weapons, newly polished: masses of hel-
mets, breastplates, greaves, Cretan shields, Thracian body armor, quiv-
The Art of Representation
151
ers, swords, and bridles, “artfully arranged to look exactly as if they had
been piled up indiscriminately, as they fell.” They made a horrible
sound as they clanked along; and, Plutarch insists, the sight of them was
enough to inspire terror, even though they belonged to an enemy who
had been conquered.
Behind the weapons came the silver coins, “carried by 3,000 men, in
750 vessels” (each holding some 75 kilos), plus a considerable array of sil-
ver bowls, drinking horns, cups, and so on. The gold was not, according
to this account, brought out until the final day. This featured 77 further
vessels full of gold coins, a vast golden libation bowl inlaid with gems
and weighing in at some 250 kilos, which Paullus himself had commis-
sioned from the bullion, some distinctively eastern Mediterranean table-
ware (bowls known as Antigonids, Seleucids, and Thericleians, the first
two named after Hellenistic kings, the third after a Corinthian artist), as
well as all the golden vessels from the Macedonian royal dining service.
These were followed by Perseus’ own chariot, which carried the king’s
weapons and his royal diadem laid on top. This part, at least, is strongly
reminiscent of Livy’s brief reference to the “trappings that come with
royal luxury.”21
Other aspects of the story of Flamininus’ triumph are echoed in
Josephus’ account of the procession of booty at the parade of Vespasian
and Titus in 71 ce. It was, he trumpets, “impossible to give an adequate
description of the extent of those spectacles and their magnificence in
every conceivable way—whether as works of art, riches of all sorts, or as
rarities of nature. For almost everything that people of good fortune
have ever acquired piecemeal, wonderful treasures of diverse origin, all
these were on display together on that day and demonstrated the great-
ness of the Roman Empire.” His self-confessed “inadequate” description
lists silver, gold, and ivory “flowing like a river”; tapestries and gems (so
many that you realized you had been wrong to think them rare); and
enormous, precious statues of the Roman gods.
But even these wonders were overshadowed by the moving “floats” or
“stages” (the Greek word pÃgmata means literally any structure “fitted to-
gether”), three or four stories high, covered in tapestries around a frame-
Th e
R o m a n Tr i u m p h
1 5 2
work of gold and ivory. Each one depicted an episode from the war—
from the devastation of the land of Judaea or the demolition of the Jew-
ish fortifications to the deluge of blood and rivers flowing through a
country that was still in flames. It was here that the Jewish generals were
stationed, acting out the moment of their capture. The rest of the spoils
(“heaps” of them) are passed over quickly, with not even a mention of
the “balsam tree” that Pliny implies was one of the notable spectacles of
the procession—except for what had been taken from the temple itself.22
Just as the hostile accounts of Marcellus’ ovation emphasize his parade
of the sacred images of the enemy, here Josephus, the Jewish turncoat, in
a disconcertingly deadpan fashion and offering careful explanations for
his non-Jewish readers, lists the sacred objects plundered and on display
in the procession: the golden Shewbread Table, the menorah (“a lamp
stand made quite differently from that in general use”), and last of all
the Jewish Law. His description matches closely the sculptured panel of
just this scene on the Arch of Titus (see Fig. 9).23
Josephus carefully notes the destination of these objects after the tri-
umph. The majority of the spoils, sacred and other, were in due course
transferred to Vespasian’s new Temple of Peace (completed in 75 ce and