Late Roman African Urbanism: Continuity and Transformation in the City 9781407331720, 9781407301310

Table of contents :
Blank Page
Front Cover
Title Page
Copyright
ABSTRACT
TABLE OF CONTENTS
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
LIST OF TABLES
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION
CHAPTER 2 THE HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS CONTEXT
CHAPTER 3 NORTH AFRICA IN CONTEXT: MEDITERRANEAN URBANISM IN THE LATE ROMAN PERIOD
CHAPTER 4 CASE STUDIES
CHAPTER 5 DISCUSSION
CHAPTER 6 DECLINE, CONTINUITY OR TRANSFORMATION?
ABBREVIATIONS
BIBLIOGRAPHY
ILLUSTRATIONS

Citation preview

BAR S1693 2007

Late Roman African Urbanism Continuity and transformation in the city

SEARS LATE ROMAN AFRICAN URBANISM

B A R

Gareth Sears

BAR International Series 1693 2007

Late Roman African Urbanism Continuity and transformation in the city

Gareth Sears

BAR International Series 1693 2007

ISBN 9781407301310 paperback ISBN 9781407331720 e-format DOI https://doi.org/10.30861/9781407301310 A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

BAR

PUBLISHING

ABSTRACT

This book examines the transformations occurring in the cities of Latin North Africa in the Roman Empire in the course of the late third, fourth and early fifth centuries AD. These developments have been assessed through a series of case studies of North African cities using archaeological, epigraphical and literary, source material. This book examines the continued vitality of municipal life in Africa by examining the evidence for the maintenance and construction of judicial, religious, defensive and entertainment structures in the late Roman period. The book also tackles the nature of the Christianisation of the North African cities within the wider urban context. It considers the appropriation of elements of the classical urban heritage for Christian use and the construction of new Christian buildings. It reassesses the nature of the Donatist and Catholic Churches, examines their differing ideologies and indicates how these could impact upon the built environment. It hypothesises that the vast amount of Christian construction during the period and the examples of temple conversion can be linked to the Catholic/Donatist controversy; the inter-denominational rivalry between the Christian churches could have greatly accelerated the process compared to other regions of the Empire. In terms of Christianisation, it also demonstrates where North African Christians erected their churches and when. This book will also consider the effect of the changes in the urban area on the population and movement within the city. Finally the book demonstrates the distinctive nature of late Roman North African urbanism and sets it in an Empire-wide context. The book concludes that North African city-life was generally flourishing in this period but that a set of processes were producing a new, African cityscape.

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TABLE OF CONTENTS

ABSTRACT .............................................................................................................................................i TABLE OF CONTENTS .......................................................................................................................ii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS................................................................................................................iv LIST OF TABLES.................................................................................................................................vi ACKNOWLEDGMENTS....................................................................................................................vii INTRODUCTION ..................................................................................................................................1 THE DEBATE......................................................................................................................................1 THE EXISTING SCHOLARSHIP.......................................................................................................1 FOCUS AND STRUCTURE ...............................................................................................................2 THE EVIDENCE .................................................................................................................................3 CONCLUSION ....................................................................................................................................5 THE HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS CONTEXT .........................................................................6 INTRODUCTION................................................................................................................................6 THE POLITICAL BACKGROUND....................................................................................................6 RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY...........................................................................................................8 DONATISM: A NATIONAL OR SOCIAL REVOLT? ....................................................................13 CONCLUSION ..................................................................................................................................16 NORTH AFRICA IN CONTEXT: MEDITERRANEAN URBANISM IN THE LATE ROMAN PERIOD ................................................................................................................................................17 INTRODUCTION..............................................................................................................................17 CHRISTIANISATION OF THE CITY..............................................................................................17 CONSTRUCTION OF WALL CIRCUITS........................................................................................21 THE ‘EPIGRAPHIC HABIT’ ............................................................................................................23 PROCESSES IN THE WESTERN EUROPEAN PROVINCES .......................................................23 Urban Shrinkage.............................................................................................................................23 Public euergetism ...........................................................................................................................24 A change in priorities .....................................................................................................................25 PROCESSES IN THE EASTERN ROMAN PROVINCES...............................................................26 Urban maintenance and transformation..........................................................................................26 Vitality of trade routes....................................................................................................................28 CONCLUSION ..................................................................................................................................29 CASE STUDIES ...................................................................................................................................30 WAYS OF EXAMINING THE CASE STUDIES .............................................................................30 DEFINING SECTARIAN CHURCHES............................................................................................34 CASE STUDIES ................................................................................................................................37 Carthage (Karthago) .......................................................................................................................37 Ammaedara (Haïdra) ......................................................................................................................45 Thuburbo Maius (Henchir Khasbat) ...............................................................................................47 Theveste (Tébessa) .........................................................................................................................50 Sufetula (Sbeitla) ............................................................................................................................52 Cuicul (Djemila) .............................................................................................................................55 Thamugadi (Timgad) .....................................................................................................................58 Sitifis (Sitifis) .................................................................................................................................63 Tipasa (Tifech) ...............................................................................................................................66

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Lepcis Magna (Lebda)....................................................................................................................70 Sabratha ..........................................................................................................................................74 DISCUSSION........................................................................................................................................78 INTRODUCTION..............................................................................................................................78 CONTINUATION OF EUERGETISM?............................................................................................78 THE FUNDING OF CONSTRUCTION AND RECONSTRUCTION .............................................83 THE CONSTRUCTION OF WALL CIRCUITS ...............................................................................84 WATER PROVISION IN LATE ROMAN NORTH AFRICA .........................................................85 False Water.....................................................................................................................................85 Fountains and Nymphaea................................................................................................................86 The maintenance and construction of baths....................................................................................86 THE CONSTRUCTION AND MAINTENANCE OF ENTERTAINMENT FACILITIES ..............88 DOMESTIC STRUCTURES .............................................................................................................91 CONTRACTION AND EXPANSION OF THE URBAN AREA.....................................................91 TEMPLES AND PAGANISM ...........................................................................................................92 Conversion of temples ....................................................................................................................93 CONSTRUCTION OF CHURCHES .................................................................................................99 Christian basilicas in the forum ....................................................................................................100 Basilicas in the rest of the urban area ...........................................................................................102 Basilicas on the periphery of the urban area.................................................................................104 Basilicas in the cemeteries............................................................................................................105 The placing of churches................................................................................................................106 Dating the Christianisation of the city ..........................................................................................108 RESULTS OF THE TRANSFORMATION OF SPACE.................................................................110 CONCLUSION ................................................................................................................................116 DECLINE, CONTINUITY OR TRANSFORMATION? ...............................................................117 INTRODUCTION............................................................................................................................117 DEVELOPMENTS IN NORTH AFRICA .......................................................................................117 Occupation of the urban area........................................................................................................117 Erection of inscriptions and construction of buildings .................................................................118 Wall circuits..................................................................................................................................120 Religion and the North African cities ...........................................................................................120 AFRICAN URBANISM IN CONTEXT..........................................................................................123 URBAN TOPOGRAPHY IN NORTH AFRICA AND THE WIDER DEBATE ............................126 ENVOI..............................................................................................................................................127 ABBREVIATIONS.............................................................................................................................129 Ancient Sources................................................................................................................................129 Books, Journals and Corpuses ..........................................................................................................130 BIBLIOGRAPHY...............................................................................................................................131 Ancient Sources................................................................................................................................131 Modern Authors................................................................................................................................132 ILLUSTRATIONS .............................................................................................................................144

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

The illustrations in this book were drawn by myself and Mr Henry Buglass based on the following source material. The hatched areas mark cemeteries whilst the wadis are marked by block, black lines. MAP 1 – AFRICA IN RELATION TO THE REST OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE (AFTER: BURN, L. 1991)........................................................................................................................................ 144 MAP 2 – NORTH AFRICAN CITIES AND VILLAGES MENTIONED IN THE TEXT (AFTER: LEPELLEY 1981: MAPS 1-5 AND FREND 1952: Fig. 2-3) ............................................... 145 MAP 3 – NORTH AFRICAN CITIES AND VILLAGES MENTIONED IN THE TEXT (AFTER: LEPELLEY 1981: MAPS 1-5 AND FREND 1952: Fig. 2-3) ............................................... 146 FIGURE 1 – DRAWING OF CARTHAGE (AFTER: ENNABLI 1997: p.6) ................................. 147 FIGURE 2 – THE CENTRE OF CARTHAGE (AFTER: ENNABLI 1997: p.6) ............................. 148 FIGURE 3 – AMMAEDARA (HAÏDRA) IN THE CHRISTIAN PERIOD (AFTER: DUVAL 1982b: Fig. 2) ...................................................................................................................................... 149 FIGURE 4 – THUBURBO MAIUS IN THE LATE THIRD CENTURY (AFTER: ALEXANDER, BEN ABED-BEN KHADER, BESROUR, MANSOUR, AND SOREN 1980: Plan 34) ...... 150 FIGURE 5 – THUBURBO MAIUS IN THE EARLY FIFTH CENTURY (AFTER: ALEXANDER, BEN ABED-BEN KHADER, BESROUR, MANSOUR, AND SOREN 1980: Plan 34) ...... 151 FIGURE 6 – THE CENTRE OF THUBURBO MAIUS (AFTER: ALEXANDER, BEN ABED-BEN KHADER, BESROUR, MANSOUR, AND SOREN 1980: Plan 34) .................................... 152 FIGURE 7 – DISTRIBUTION OF ARTISANAL WORKSHOPS AT THUBURBO MAIUS (AFTER: ALEXANDER, BEN ABED-BEN KHADER, BESROUR, MANSOUR, AND SOREN 1980: Plan 34) ................................................................................................................................... 153 FIGURE 8 – THEVESTE (TÉBESSA) IN THE ROMAN PERIOD (AFTER: DE ROCH 1952: Fig. 2) ................................................................................................................................................. 154 FIGURE 9 – SUFETULA (SBEITLA) BEFORE THE FOURTH CENTURY (AFTER: DUVAL 1982: Fig. 2) ...................................................................................................................................... 155 FIGURE 10 – SUFETULA (SBEITLA); EARLY FIFTH CENTURY (AFTER: DUVAL 1982a: Fig. 2) ................................................................................................................................................. 156 FIGURE 11 – CUICUL (DJEMILA) BEFORE THE FOURTH CENTURY (AFTER: FÉVRIER 1964: Fig. 8) ...................................................................................................................................... 157 FIGURE 12 – CUICUL (DJEMILA); THE EARLY FIFTH CENTURY (AFTER: FÉVRIER 1964: Fig. 8) ...................................................................................................................................... 158 FIGURE 13 – THAMUGADI (TIMGAD) BEFORE THE FOURTH CENTURY (AFTER: BALLU 1911 PLATE PRIOR TO PAGE 1 AND COURTOIS 1961: Fig. 1) ..................................... 159

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FIGURE 14 – THE CENTRE OF THAMUGADI IN THE ROMAN PERIOD (AFTER: BALLU 1911 PLATE PRIOR TO PAGE 1 AND COURTOIS 1961: Fig. 1) .............................................. 160 FIGURE 15 – THAMUGADI (TIMGAD) IN THE LATER FOURTH/EARLY FIFTH CENTURY (AFTER: BALLU 1911 PLATE PRIOR TO PAGE 1 AND COURTOIS 1961: Fig. 1) ....... 161 FIGURE 16 – SITIFIS (SÉTIF) IN THE ROMAN PERIOD (AFTER: FÉVRIER 1964: Fig. 14) .. 162 FIGURE 17 – TIPASA AT THE BEGINNING OF THE FOURTH CENTURY (AFTER: LANCEL 1982: Fig. 17) ......................................................................................................................... 163 FIGURE 18 – TIPASA IN THE LATER FOURTH/EARLY FIFTH CENTURIES (AFTER: LANCEL 1982: Fig. 17) ......................................................................................................................... 164 FIGURE 19 – LEPCIS MAGNA IN THE LATE THIRD CENTURY (AFTER: MATTINGLY 1993: p.117 AND DI VITA, DI VITA-EVRARD, AND BACCHIELLI 1999: p.47) ..................... 165 FIGURE 20 – LEPCIS MAGNA IN THE FOURTH AND EARLY FIFTH CENTURIES (AFTER: MATTINGLY 1993: p.117 AND DI VITA, DI VITA-EVRARD, AND BACCHIELLI 1999: p.47) ........................................................................................................................................ 166 FIGURE 21 – THE FORUM VETUS AT LEPCIS MAGNA (AFTER: DI VITA, DI VITA-EVRARD, AND BACCHIELLI 1999: p.77) ........................................................................................... 167 FIGURE 22 – SABRATHA AT THE BEGINNING OF THE FOURTH CENTURY (AFTER: KENRICK 1986: Fig. 122) ..................................................................................................... 168 FIGURE 23 – SABRATHA IN THE LATER FOURTH AND EARLY FIFTH CENTURIES (AFTER: KENRICK 1986: Fig. 122) ..................................................................................................... 169 FIGURE 24 – RESTORATION/CONSTRUCTION INSCRIPTIONS IN NORTH AFRICA ......... 170 FIGURE 25 – DEDICATIONS TO EMPERORS AND OFFICIALS IN AFRICA ......................... 170 FIGURE 26 – TOTAL NUMBER OF DEDICATORY INSCRIPTIONS IN NORTH AFRICA ..... 171 FIGURE 27 – DEDICATION INSCRIPTIONS FOR ENTERTAINMENT BUILDINGS .............. 171

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LIST OF TABLES

TABLE 1 – CONSTRUCTION AND RECONSTRUCTION INSCRIPTIONS IN AFRICA................... 80 TABLE 2 – EXPECTED DISTRIBUTION OF INSCRIPTIONS IN AFRICA ........................................ 80 TABLE 3 – LATE THIRD TO EARLY FIFTH CENTURY BUILDING WORK ................................... 80 TABLE 4 – BATHS IN THE FOURTH AND FIFTH CENTURY AD. ................................................... 87 TABLE 5 – THEATRES, AMPHITHEATRES AND CIRCUSES IN THE FOURTH CENTURY AD. . 89 TABLE 6 – TEMPLE BUILDING AND RECONSTRUCTION .............................................................. 93 TABLE 7 – TEMPLE CONVERSIONS/DESTRUCTIONS ..................................................................... 97 TABLE 8 – BASILICAS AROUND THE FORUM/JUDICIAL BASILICA COMPLEX...................... 101 TABLE 9 – BASILICAS WITHIN THE URBAN AREA....................................................................... 101 TABLE 10 – BASILICAS ON THE PERIPHERY OF THE URBAN AREA ........................................ 104 TABLE 11 – BASILICAS IN THE CEMETERIES ................................................................................ 104

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ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

This book evolved out of my 2003 PhD thesis at the University of Birmingham and I cannot thank my PhD supervisor, Dr Simon Esmonde Cleary, enough for his help over several years both in reading through my work and suggesting changes and improvements to it but also in suggesting books and articles that I might read to develop my scholarship. I also owe a great debt of thanks to Mr Henry Buglass who gave me training and advice in preparing the figures for my thesis and his immeasurably professionalised them for this book. I would also like to thank my PhD examiners, Professor Chris Wickham and Dr Lisa Fentress for their helpful comments, and Dr Mary Harlow, Dr Niall McKeown, Mr Dan Lines, Dr Luke Lavan and Professor Anand Menon who read through parts of the work or associated papers and made suggestions about how it might be improved. My colleagues in the Institute of Archaeology and Antiquity, University of Birmingham have had to suffer through several papers arising from my thesis over the years or have patiently listened to me talk about my work and their comments have been particularly helpful. The errors and omissions contained within my thesis remain, however, my own. I would also like to thank my family and a list of friends too numerous to mention individually for all of their help and advice. There are several people who need an individual mention: Amelia, for all of your care, help and love since we met; and my brother David and parents, Brenda and Neil, for giving me unstinting support in so many ways over so many years; this book would not exist without you.

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CHAPTER 1 INTRODUCTION

province have been examined in isolation.5 Thus Février’s work on Djemila (Cuicul) and Sétif (Sitifis), Duval’s on Haïdra (Ammaedara) and Sbeitla (Sufetula) or Mattingly’s on Tripolitania, although excellent, do not provide an overarching examination of the entirety of the diocese of North Africa during this period.6 Lepelley’s book, Les cités de l’Afrique Romaine au Bas-Empire, is obviously an exception to this rule. It is both a survey and an analysis of the inscriptions, relating to building works and municipal dignitaries of the diocese of North Africa from the late Roman period, which demonstrated the continued existence of the curia and the generosity of individual patrons until at least the end of Roman North Africa. Nevertheless, this work does not utilise archaeological evidence to elucidate developmental issues nor does it examine the Christianisation of the urban environment. Likewise Jouffroy’s examination of North African and Italian building patterns across the Imperial period does not evaluate Christianity and its effect on the city’s topography.7

THE DEBATE The state of Roman North African civilisation immediately prior to the Vandal conquest has always been a matter for debate. Victor of Vita claimed, in the course of his fulmination against Vandal hegemony and persecution in North Africa, that the provinces on the eve of the invasion had been peaceful and prosperous.1 Frend challenged this statement during his evaluation of the Donatist Church in 1952. He alleged that a deep social malaise amongst the lower classes, which was symptomatic of a decline in the conditions in late Roman North Africa as a whole, sustained the Donatist Christian movement.2 Frend also claimed that the cities of North Africa never recovered from the suppression of the revolt of the Gordians in 238.3 It has, however, been recognised for some time that there were cities thriving in some parts of Africa as late as the third quarter of the fourth century.4 This book will examine the processes that were in train during the late third, fourth and early-fifth century cities in order to appraise the extent of continuity and change, development, ‘decline’ and transformation present in the urban topography in this period.

In addition to these problems much of the work on the North African cities has been in the context of ‘archéologie chrétienne’. This type of study, of which works by Bérthier, Leschi and Duval are good examples, has tended to privilege the structures of Christianity as an area for study in their own right. This then led to their decontextualisation from the rest of urban development and transformation in this period.8 This book will examine churches firmly within their wider context and will demonstrate the way in which their construction could have a profound effect upon the general urban topography and the population that moved through it.

THE EXISTING SCHOLARSHIP Previous work has examined the cities of late Roman North Africa but, with a few exceptions, has largely adopted an approach whereby individual cities, a pair of cities or at most a

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Victor Vitensis, Historia persecutionis Africanae Provinciae, I.3, supported by Salvian, Gub. Dei, VI.12. 2 Frend 1952, 49. Frend claims that the cities of North Africa never recovered from the suppression of the revolt of the Gordians in 238. This is an overly fatalistic approach to the history of North African urbanism. The Gordians’ revolt was limited in scope and reprisals were meted out only to their supporters, a narrow political and social class. Additionally there were two hundred years between this event and the seizure of the region by the Vandals more than enough time for renewal and urban expansion. Likewise his claim on page 60 that the main process of urban transformation in the fourth century was decline cannot be accepted for reasons that will be discussed in this thesis. 3 Frend 1952, 49. 4 Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1970, 407. ‘One sees that in this part of Roman Africa urban civilisation was a vigorous growth.’

There has been some work on the relationship of the ecclesiastical debate between the Donatist and Catholic Churches to the development of the 5

See Maps 1, 2 and 3 for sites mentioned in the text. Duval 1968, 221-244; Duval 1969, 409-436; Duval 1971b; Duval 1982a, 596-632; Duval 1982b, 633-671; Duval 1990, 495-535. Février 1964, 651-697; Mattingly 1993. 7 Jouffroy 1986. 8 Berthier 1942; Leschi 1936, 27-42; Leschi 1940, 5-29 and note 5 above. 6

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North African cityscape, but this has been rather limited.9 The focus, with regard to the North African sects, has generally been upon their social and ethnic composition, their theology, rhetoric and history. Rather less has been done on the implications of the existence of the two sects and their rival ideologies for the urban topography. This thesis will seek to remedy this omission and will place the sects firmly within their built environment.

order to analyse the developments in the urban topography. As this is the case it will be necessary to examine the wider Mediterranean milieu in terms of the development and transformation of the urban topography in other regions throughout this period. This discussion will unavoidably be dealing with generalities because of the constraints of space. It will also recognise the disparity between over-arching patterns of urban modification across huge regions and the actual experiences of individual cities. This discussion will be crucial, as it will provide models for the transformation of the cityscape during the later Roman Empire that can be used as comparative material for those processes evident in North Africa. After examining the developments within North Africa it will be necessary to assess how the developments within the region fit with the other patterns produced by other regions.

FOCUS AND STRUCTURE This book will examine developments within the provinces of the diocese of Africa; that is the Latin speaking provinces of the continent minus Mauretania Tingitania, which for reasons of organisation and communication was attached to the diocese of Spain from the reign of Diocletian onwards. Therefore examples and case studies will be drawn from the provinces of Africa Proconsularis, Byzacena, Tripolitania, Mauretania Caesarensis and Mauretania Sitifensis.10 Rather than examining all North African cities, this thesis will analyse a series of cities of different sizes, with diverse origins and with divergent fourth and fifth century histories in order to create a balanced picture across the entirety of diocesan North Africa with areas that were prospering and those that were struggling represented. The cities have also been chosen because of the necessities of evidential constraints and because they demonstrate relatively sound or prolific data.

A key area for examination in this work will be the specific circumstances and tensions within North African Christianity during this period. As part of this study it will be essential to examine the relationship between the Donatist and Catholic Churches, and that between the branches of Christianity and paganism, as these dynamics obviously impacted on fourth and fifth century urbanism in the region. Any study of these processes will need to examine competition between the sects, the rhetoric of the sects and the conversion of existing structures for Christian use. It will also be necessary to briefly assess how scholars attribute a sect to individual church buildings in North Africa.

The nature of the transformation of the Roman city will be at the heart of the examination of the case studies. Maintenance and change within the urban area and the motivations behind these processes will all be explored. Obviously a vital facet of this will be the development of the ‘Christian’ city. The sections relating to Christianisation will consider how it developed in North Africa both in terms of the cannibalisation of the earlier, pagan/secular building traditions and in terms of the synergy of the late Roman city, wherein Christian structures were only one aspect. It will also be important to analyse whether there is any evidence from the case studies of a deliberately constructed sectarian topography.

Competition as a driver to change was not just a consequence of Christianisation and the changes that it wrought. It can also be seen in elite provision of monuments, buildings and services in the North African cities. As a vital aspect of life in the classical city the maintenance of this tradition is clearly an important area of study as one of the processes that impacted upon the development of the North African city in the late Roman period. The final area for examination will be the coherence of a ‘classical’ urban ideology until late into the fourth century and beyond. In examining continuity in the urban tradition the apparent innate conservatism of the African aristocracy in the way that they approached the maintenance of the city will therefore be a matter for some discussion. In many ways the dichotomy of competition (whether between Christian sects or aristocrats) and conservatism seem to be the driving forces in the development of the North African urban landscape in the

It will be important to place this study within the region’s wider historical and societal contexts in 9 For instance Frend 1952, 52-53, on the ‘unnecessary basilicas’ of Optatus of Milevis. Optatus, De Schismate Donatistarum, III.4 afterwards referred to as Optatus. 10 Throughout this book I will refer to Proconsularis rather than Africa or Zeugitania to avoid confusion. See Map 3.

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fourth and fifth centuries and will provide much of the narrative for this book.

useful counterweight to the works of various Christian priests and bishops.

The first chapter will seek to put the study of the cities into its proper North African context by addressing the social, political and religious situation in North Africa during the period of study. Chapter three will move on to examine the wider Mediterranean context in order to demonstrate processes general to the Roman World, which are likely to have parallels in North Africa, but also to indicate some of the possible models for urban development in this period. This comparison is crucial, as the region obviously did not exist in its own cultural bubble and it is necessary to provide potential models for urban transformation and experience in the fourth and fifth centuries. Chapter four contains the case studies and will form a central part of this book providing the material on which chapter five, the discussion, will build. The case studies will also be important as studies of the individual cities in the late Roman period in their own right. As has been stated chapter five will draw together the evidence from the case studies to produce a model of North African urban life. In particular it will address changes in religious adherence, the maintenance of the city and its institutions, the construction of baths and expansion/contraction in the urban area. Finally, chapter six will tackle the similarities and differences between North African developments and those in other regions in order to link the discussion back to the wider Mediterranean. This last chapter will also tackle future research priorities in the area.

Works such as Optatus of Milevis’ Against the Donatists or Augustine’s tracts such as Against Parmenian, Against Petilian or Against Gaudentius are polemical and designed to refute the ideas of Donatists or pagans. All of these sources contain the expected omissions, where the writers fail to deal with what modern historians would consider important societal issues or processes, but the rhetorical, polemical, and biased nature of much of the Christian and pagan writings also causes problems. Can modern authors believe anything that Augustine, a Catholic prelate and apologist, tell us about his Donatist enemies? Likewise, when Salvian writes about the corruption of Carthage and the laxity of the Christian communities to what extent do his words reflect reality and to what extent are they enhanced by rhetorical exaggeration? The purpose of each piece of writing needs to be considered carefully when it is used. Many of the treatises of fourth and fifth-century Africa need to be examined cautiously but despite these inherent anti-Donatist positions it is often possible to reconstruct Donatist works that are no longer extant or pagan thought from the Catholic texts, albeit this is viewed opaquely through the filter of Augustine or Optatus. Augustine’s inclusion of the text that he wished to argumentatively destroy clearly facilitates this process and any revelation of non-Catholic thought from the period is crucial for our understanding of late Roman society in North Africa. The same sorts of issues that complicates tracts also make the use of hagiographies, letters and sermons problematic while the conventions of letter writing in the ancient world or the fact that hagiographies tend to create an idealised martyr with only limited attention to society add further difficulties. Despite this Augustine’s letters do, sometimes, elucidate more than the religious debates of a theological elite. They do provide insights into the destruction of pagan holy places and idols, the relationship between Donatist and Catholic, between Christian and pagan and between citizen and government. Even with their deficiencies they are an exceptional cache of material for the study of late fourth and early fifth century Africa.

THE EVIDENCE It is important to briefly assess the different types of source material for the development of North African urbanism in this period. These sources can be split into literary, epigraphic and archaeological sources; each of which have their own inherent limitations. There are a variety of literary sources that can be employed in the study of North Africa in this period. The important histories of this period such as the New History of Zosimus or the work of Ammianus Marcellinus rarely touch on events in North Africa due to the region’s peripheral nature in the late Roman period. The digressions on the region tend to be short and lacking in both understanding and detail on questions that an academic studying the development of the late Roman city might wish to ask. They do, however, provide some information and are a

In terms of epigraphy this work will make use of inscriptions commemorating building or reconstruction work in the region, which is also limited by its preservation in the archaeological record and its recovery by excavators. Of course, inscriptions are not prone to the levels of bias and distortion that literary works are, but neither

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are they a perfect, pristine form of information; they are often fragmentary in nature and even when they are not, do not give anything approaching complete details about the process surrounding the construction of buildings. They do not, for example, tell the reader about the ‘planning process’ that had been gone through and rarely about the cost of the project or any future provisions for repair. A final problem with inscriptions is that throughout the Empire during the third, fourth and fifth centuries they had, to some extent, gone out of fashion (the so-called decline of the ‘epigraphic habit’). The relative dearth of inscriptions in this period means that the dating of many constructions is even more reliant on pure archaeological evidence.

because of questions of cost. An extraordinary proportion of Thamugadi has been revealed demonstrating the relationship between different structures to each other. This type of excavation can be a great aid for the study of urban topography but there are even problems with these plans as they are incomplete because of the dating evidence and excavators often publish composite plans that do not distinguish between different chronological periods. The destruction and poor recording of archaeological material, detailed above, usually outweigh any benefits. Such issues will obviously have a profound affect on this study. Another problem for the archaeologist stems from the specific conditions of the majority of the coastal cities, which of course were the largest Roman settlements. Most of these have been continuously occupied since the Roman period and the archaeology lies beneath modern cities that allow for relatively little scientific exploration. Roman cities that were located in the interior of the provinces of North Africa are sometimes more easily investigated and many were examined in the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. However, the expense and difficulty of modern excavations has led to relatively few major explorations of entire cities. Geopolitical and religious problems within modern North Africa have also hampered the work of archaeologists; the prolonged Islamicist insurrection in Algeria rendered foreign archaeological excavation in that country virtually impossible while the long-standing isolation of Libya made work there difficult, although several European missions continued to work there throughout the period of UN sanctions.

When examining the archaeological legacy of Roman North Africa there are serious difficulties. Specific issues for each case study will be dealt with during that section but it is important to note here some general points about some of the archaeological data that will be used. One of the main problems is that many excavations were undertaken in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, when standards were not as high as those that modern archaeologists aspire to.11 Much of the archaeological work from these periods can be characterised as clearance excavations that understandably fail to come close to modern standards. It would be anachronistic to criticise the excavators for this approach but it does have deleterious effects upon modern research. Excavations at cities such as Thamugadi, Thuburbo Maius and parts of Carthage demonstrate this type of approach to the material remains. Late Roman and late antique layers suffer badly from this type of excavation as the excavators often privileged mosaic floors and standing buildings rather than later, less spectacular levels. This has especially impacted upon the dating evidence for many buildings and, consequently, our understanding of the development of the cities in the later Roman Empire.

The mosaics of North Africa are a particularly useful form of archaeological evidence due to their ubiquitous nature in the diocese’s cities. They are also often the only dating evidence for a building, and even this is usually only on stylistic grounds, because of the problems with the archaeology. In the past the relative, stylistic dating has not been perfect and there has been a tendency to not date mosaics to certain periods, such as the mid-third century and the Vandal occupation because of historical perceptions of those eras among both contemporaries and modern historians.12 The tradition of viewing these periods as times of crisis has undoubtedly led to third century mosaics being either pushed back in time to the Severan period or forward to the tetrarchic ‘recovery’. In the same vein we may suspect that many early Vandalic mosaics

Although the nature of much archaeological work in North Africa creates problems for this study in terms of dating, the approach of early twentieth century archaeologists does have some benefits for a topographical analysis of the city. Excavations from the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, and here Thamugadi is a particularly fine example, do produce a city ground plan in a way which would be impossible today because of the vast amount of data that current archaeological techniques record and 11

Cf. the introductions to each of the case studies in Chapter 4 and Février 1964, 651-3.

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Février 1982b, 829; Dunbabin 1978, 30-37.

have been regarded as late Roman and later mosaics have been interpreted as being Justinianic. More recent analyses of the mosaics of particular cities or more globally for North Africa as a whole, for instance that of Dunbabin or the Corpus des Mosaiques de Tunisie, have been more reliable and dating has been more secure while more competent excavation techniques have allowed other more prescriptive evidence from the foundation fabric of pavements such as ceramic or numismatic material to be used to date mosaics.

archaeological and literary evidence to provide a comprehensive answer to our questions and their combination may cause us further problems. While that is the case there is a plethora of written, inscribed, and archaeological evidence that can be used in such an examination making this work both possible and potentially very rewarding. CONCLUSION From the outset it needs to be stated that North Africa was a dynamic region in the late Roman Empire and a region well worthy of study because of the wealth of primary material but also because of the importance of the region in the context of the wider Empire. This is a fruitful area for research because of the wide variety and considerable extent of data that can be employed and because of the lack of comprehensive works that examine all facets of late Roman cities across the entire diocese. This study then will examine, through a series of case studies, the processes that were altering the urban fabric in the course of the fourth century in the region. In doing this the Christianisation of the North African cities, including the effects of interdenominational rivalry, will be examined in their proper urban context. This work will serve to demonstrate not only the vigorous nature of North African urbanism in this era but also the links with processes underway elsewhere in the Roman Empire.

The inherently ambiguous nature of much archaeological material allows for interpretation but reliable assessments are sometimes difficult to make. For instance many marginal Christian communities, designated by more powerful groups as heretics, may have continued to use house-churches well into the Christian era. In such cases if only non-liturgical Christian artefacts are found, can we tell the difference between a house-church and a house used by Christians? This may be a specific question but highlights the difficulty of using archaeological evidence. The difficulties produced by the conduct of excavations at a city, the state and extent of the remains and the general problems apparent throughout archaeological practice impact upon the state of the city plans, which are crucial for this thesis. As Février has noted in an astute passage the plans, which have been produced in the past, are amalgams of various different phases of a town’s history, creating a hybrid map.13 The maps produced by nineteenth and early twentieth century scholars, although useful as starting points, often contain features that did not and could not exist at the same period as well as modern features overlaying and obscuring ancient topographical details. It is this difficulty that the current work has attempted to address in part by the creation of new city plans that remove modern features, indicating where development has taken place and remedying anachronisms innate to many, although not all, older works. Accurate and clear city maps will be of great use when examining developments within the urban topography. There are many different problems associated with the use of source material in conducting an analysis of the cities of North Africa and the processes that were being manifested in them in this period; not least the potential for contradictory information being garnered from different sources. We should not expect 13

Février 1964, 653.

5

CHAPTER 2 THE HISTORICAL AND RELIGIOUS CONTEXT

a considerable renaissance during the tetrarchic and Valentinianic periods but the entire late Roman period in North Africa exhibits a dynamic society with thriving cities and a complex interplay between different forms of Christianity and the city.

INTRODUCTION This chapter will provide the historical and religious background to the development of the urban centres during the late third, fourth and early fifth centuries AD. It will assess macrohistorical factors that affected the entire region as well as more discrete historical events that impacted only on a limited area. It will also consider the development of Christianity in the third and early fourth centuries and, importantly, the development of the schism in the North African Church between the Catholics and Donatists.

With the exception of some minor rebellions and disturbances North Africa is generally ignored by the sources after the Gordians’ revolt until the tetrarchic era.4 This was partly because the limited military forces in the region, and the relatively minor Libyan incursions from beyond the frontiers, made the area a backwater in terms of the great episodes of military and political history but also because the attention of the emperors and therefore their biographers was rarely focussed on the region. Under the tetrarchs Maximian successfully led armies against the Quinquegentani on the Mauretanian frontier in 289 and 297.5 The detail of these campaigns are not really known but its importance for the tetrarchs can be seen in the triumphal arches from this period at cities such as Sufetula and Thugga.6

THE POLITICAL BACKGROUND It could be asserted that the late Roman period in North Africa began in 238 when Capellianus, the governor and legate of Numidia and a loyal supporter of the Emperor Maximinus, crushed the revolt of the Gordians.1 Certainly Frend in his seminal 1952 work The Donatist Church: a movement of protest in Roman North Africa believed that this event was a catastrophe for the cities of North Africa and that they began a long slow decline from this point onwards; presumably because he felt that the elite were not able to recover from the slaughter and destruction of estates.2 It is true that Capellianus not only destroyed the revolt but he also killed prominent citizens that had escaped the battle and was alleged to have devastated the territories of other cities that had declared against Maximinus.3 However, this is an overly pessimistic approach to the history of North African urbanism given the unreliable and hyperbolic nature of the sources and the geographically limited nature of the Gordians’ revolt and the reprisals meted out to their supporters. Moreover, some two hundred years passed between this event and the seizure of the region by the Vandals and, as this book will demonstrate, not only did the region undergo

Under the second tetrarchy the usurper, Domitius Alexander, was raised at Carthage in 307 with the apparent support of much of the regional aristocracy but was crushed by the Italian emperor, Maxentius, the following year. Maxentius’ reprisals against the aristocracy in Carthage made such an impression on contemporaries that on his defeat by Constantine I his head was conveyed to the Carthaginians.7 It is notable that these disturbances were the last to convulse the region for over fifty years; North Africa apparently benefited from the relative stability that the House of Constantine generally brought to the Empire and avoided any fall-out 4 There was, for instance, a minor rebellion under Gordian III soon after he came to the throne SHA. Gord. XXIII.4 and possibly another under Gallienus (SHA. Tyr. trig., XXIX.1), although the Scriptores Historia Augusta is the only source for the rebellion and all of the individuals named in it. 5 Aur. Vict. Caes. 39. 6 See page 51; Lepelley 1981, 309 C., 11326 and p. 220, C., 15516 a and b; C., 15517. 7 Aur. Vict. Caes., 40.17-19; Epit. de Caes. 40, 2 and 6; Zos. Nova Historia, II.12 and 14; Pan. IX.16, X.32. Nazarius, Panegyricus Constantino Aug. 32.

1

SHA. Gord. I – XVIII.4 and Herodian, VII.4-9. Zosimus’ description of the events completely fails to mention devastation in North Africa but appears to be highly unreliable. Zos. Nova Historia, I.11-13. 2 Frend 1952, 1. 3 Herodian, Book VII.4-9; Aur. Vict. Caes., 40.

6

from the squabbles between members of the family.

land, they could rely on tribal support, and they held regular Roman military and provincial commands that gave them access to Roman troops.16 The historical tradition is generally hostile to them as the sources were either written under emperors who were inimical to the brothers or because they themselves had their own religious reasons for disliking them.17 The rebellions are often played down as native uprisings, which may have done damage to individual cities that fell into their hands but were limited in their scope and ambition. This argument, followed by the sources in their characterisation of the revolts and their leaders, if not always in their detailed description of them, ignores their continued influence under a succession of emperors and that one of Firmus’ nieces married into the imperial family even after his rebellion.18

The peace was eventually broken on what was, in terms of the problems of other provinces, a relatively small scale by incursions into Tripolitania by the Libyan tribe of the Austoriani.8 These invasions seem to have taken place throughout the 360s although that recorded by Ammianus took place in 363. The consequences of these raids for individual cities will be discussed in the case studies but they clearly impacted upon society in the province with destruction to life and property being severe, although apparently limited in space and time.9 The situation in Tripolitania was not improved by Romanus, the comes of Africa, who refused to defend the region and was accused of extortion from the cities.10 His own power and bribery kept him safe from punishment at the hands of the emperor Valentinian and managed to get his accusers from the province condemned and executed on false charges.11

In Africa itself Firmus’ brother Gildo, who had taken part in Theodosius’ expedition, was obviously considered trustworthy and important enough to be made comes of North Africa by 385. Originally loyal to the Houses of Valentinian and Theodosius he appears to have held himself aloof from the wars between Theodosius and the usurpers Magnus Maximus and Eugenius but kept his position under Theodosius and his successor Honorius. However, he became over-confident and his downfall came when he attempted to transfer the suzerainty of Africa to the eastern court of Arcadius; he appears to have assumed that the grip of Constantinople would be less secure than that of Ravenna due to the distances involved giving him increased autonomy.19 This was not a situation that Stilicho, Honorius’ guardian, could tolerate as North Africa was a key supplier of grain to Italy and he dispatched Mascezel, another brother of Gildo, to eliminate the traitor.20 Gildo, surprised and defeated in battle by Mascezel’s limited forces, committed suicide

Romanus’ greed also triggered the first serious rebellion against central authority in this period. In 373 a Mauretanian native chief, Firmus, whose family had served the Empire for at least two generations was declared emperor due to provincial discontent in the Mauretanias over the vigorous enforcement of taxation by Romanus.12 Zosimus informs us that Firmus was given a purple cloak by his supporters so clearly his rebellion was conceived of as an attempt to gain the Imperial throne rather than the native rebellion that Ammianus attempts to portray it as.13 Cities within reach of Firmus’ army unsurprisingly recognised him as emperor.14 Despite initial successes including the sacking of Iol Caesarea, the capital of Mauretania Caesarensis, Firmus was turned back from his siege of Tipasa by the miraculous intervention of Saint Salsa and was defeated by forces dispatched from the Danube by Valentinian I under the comes Theodosius, father of the later emperor Theodosius I in 375.15

16

The brothers Firmus and Gildo were sons of Nubel of the tribe of the Jubaleni. Fratricide seems to have been common in this large family. Firmus killed his brother Sammac, whose estate is known from the valley of the Oued Sahel, while Gildo massacred his brother Mascezel’s children. 17 The sources are Ammianus Marcellinus, Zosimus, Augustine, Orosius and the Passion of St Salsa for the rebellion of Firmus and Claudian, Zosimus and Augustine for the rebellion of Gildo. Passio Salsae, 13; Amm. Marc. Book XXIX.5; August. Ep. 108; Oros. adv. pag., VII.36; Zos. Nova Historia, IV.16 (Firmus) and V.140 (Gildo); Claudian, de Bello Gildonico, Book 1; August. c. litt. Pet., I.18.20; 24.26; II.39.92-94; 84.184. 18 Gildo’s daughter, Salvina, was married to Nebridius a cousin of Honorius and Arcadius. Jerome’s Ep. 79 is addressed to her. Nebridius’ mother was the sister of Theodosius’ wife Aelia Flaccila. 19 Oros. adv. pag., VII.36. 20 Claudian, de Bello Gildonico, Book 1.

Firmus’ family were clearly powerful and prominent in the region. They held vast tracts of 8 Ammianus Marcellinus, Res Gestae, XXVIII.6 Henceforth referred to as Amm. Marc. 9 Cf. pages 71-75, 77, 85, 96. 10 Amm. Marc. XXVIII.6.5-6. 11 Amm. Marc. XXVIII.6.17-30 12 Zos. Nova Historia, IV.16. Peña hypothesises that there may have been some disruption to the state oil collection system because of the revolt Peña 1998, 207. 13 Zos. Nova Historia, IV.16. 14 E.g. Calama CIL VIII 5338. 15 Claudian, de Bello Gildonico, I.330-5; Amm. Marc. XXIX. 5.1-56; Passio Salsae, 13.

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rather than risk capture. Stilicho promptly had Mascezel drowned in a river rather then risk creating another native potentate in the area and had the family’s property confiscated.21 After 397 the provinces were relatively untroubled by major tribal incursions or political instability until the very end of the province. The rebellion of the comes Heraclian (413) was a brief interruption in central rule; he was dealt with quickly after a failed attack on Italy.22 A further outbreak of Libyan tribal insurgency occurred in 427/8, but in the following year the Vandals invaded and Roman Africa began its rapid slide into oblivion.23 By 430 the Vandal army was sieging Hippo Regius and a subsequent deal with Valentinian III allowed them to occupy Numidia, while Mauretania was returned to the Empire. This deal ended in 439 when the Vandals seized Carthage and the provinces passed out of Roman control entirely.

consequence, are known as Catholics. The Donatists never conceded the term Catholic to their opponents and complained that: “Those people who were already fawning on him (the Devil) and were deserted by God came to be called ‘Catholics’. By prejudice in favour of the name, those who refused to communicate with them were called ‘heretics’”.24 Despite reservations about applying ‘Catholic’ to one side or another when such a usage prejudices the argument, for the sake of convention and clarity I will use the traditional labels of Donatist and Catholic.25 The third century had been a period of steady growth and peace for the North African Church punctuated by episodes of persecution as the emperors Decius and Valerian attempted to restore the traditional observance of religious cult across their empire without success.26 These persecutions of Christians may not have had immense practical consequences as the numbers killed were small, but psychologically they were a huge shock to the Christian community and ideologies of resistance to the pagan Empire and the importance of martyrdom were forged in this era; Donatists and Catholics both drew inspiration from third century writers such as Tertullian and Cyprian seeing themselves as their true theological and intellectual heirs. It is during the later third century that the North African peasantry is alleged to have converted en masse to Christianity. This is on the spurious grounds that the halt to the erection of stelae in the rural sanctuaries of Saturn, principal god of Roman North Africa, coupled with the fact that the Christian sources of a century later are only writing about Christians and not pagans in the countryside, demonstrates the abandonment of the god in favour of Christ. This conversion was allegedly aided by apparent similarities between the harsh, judgemental nature of the African Saturn and one aspect of the Christian god.27 However, this argument ignores the possibility that it was just the form of devotion that was

Despite the problems documented above it is clear that North Africa was generally spared the levels of destruction and upheaval experienced by much of the European empire in this period. The large-scale invasions across the Rhine and the Danube that plagued the Empire in the late third and late fourth centuries and the usurpations that were triggered by these had little direct impact in the region. When examining the processes that were underway in its cities it will be important to bear this fundamental difference between North Africa and other regions of the Empire in mind. Would the absence of the great ruptures in life that some regions of the Empire had to tolerate in the period have led to greater continuity with the urban life of the early Empire in North Africa than elsewhere? Or would a more peaceful evolution of society influence the development of the urban topography in its own characteristic way? RELIGIOUS CONTROVERSY Before examining the schism between Donatists and Catholics in fourth century North Africa it is important to note that using the designations of Donatist and Catholic automatically put us in the mind-set of the Catholic. The Catholics ‘won’ because they convinced the Church outside of Africa and a succession of emperors that they were the legitimate African Church and, in

24

Sermo de passione sanctorum Donati et Advocati, 3. Brent Shaw (Shaw 1995, 7-9, 22-3) argues that the Donatists should be referred to as the ‘African’ Church because they closely followed the harsh attitude towards the lapsed and penance found in the earlier African Church but the use of such a term when the sources all refer to ‘Donatist’ would introduce an element of confusion to an already complex dispute. 26 The persecution of Decius took place between 250 and 251 while the persecution of Valerian occurred between 257 and 260. 27 This aspect can be seen as particularly popular in North Africa; Tertullian, (Tert. De cultu feminarum, II.2), Lactantius (Lactant. de mort. pers. 33 for Galerius’ death) and Augustine (August. Conf. I.5) all emphasise the fear of God and divine punishment in their writings. 25

21

Oros. adv. pag. VII.36; Notitia Dignitatum, XII.5; CTh., VII.8.7 and IX.42.16. 22 Oros. adv. pag. VII.42; Zos., Nova Historia, V.37, VI.9-11. Cf. Jerome, Ep. 130.7 for the alleged treatment of the rich by Heraclian. 23 August. Ep. 220.

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undermine him.30 Optatus also stresses that there were elders within the Carthaginian Christian community that had embezzled Church funds and who were to be compelled by Caecilian to return this money, something that they had hoped to avoid by being ordained themselves.31 This highly coloured account of the start of the schism is, of course, a Catholic one and the complex tapestry of a rich, insulted woman and corrupt individuals scheming together against legitimate authority would not have been the interpretation that the Donatists would have adhered to. The limited evidence in the Donatist passions always emphasises betrayal and persecution by Caecilian and others as the touchstones of the dispute and puts the most weight on the circumstances surrounding his consecration as bishop.32

going out of fashion at a time when other traditional forms of commemoration across the Empire were also ceasing to be used, while the use of later Christian sources to provide comparative evidence is not only anachronistic but ignores the nature of the source material. The process of conversion is likely to have taken substantially longer and it seems wrong to use these stelae to date the conversion when the majority of churches across rural North Africa are of the late fourth century or early fifth century. The fourth century opened with persecution by the tetrarchs which, in its aftermath, left the Church thoroughly divided. The emperors’ requirement that everyone sacrifice to the gods on pain of death led to apostasy and martyrdom in the Church in North Africa, which led to disputes between those who wished to adopt a hard line towards the apostates and those who wished to be more lenient. As in many other splits within the Church in the Roman Empire questions regarding the treatment of the martyrs and confessors by members of the clergy and the apostasy or betrayal of other priests and bishops were crucial to the start of the schism.

We are told by Optatus that the offences of Caecilian and the ambitions of others in the Church created a party who opposed his ordination by a selection of Proconsularian and Byzacenan bishops. They quickly found support among Numidian bishops who were used to consecrating the Bishop of Carthage and on this occasion had been sidelined.33 The opposition accused one of Caecilian’s consecrators, Felix of Abthungi, of being a traditor, that is a person who had sacrificed to the gods or had given up sacred books to be burnt, something that the Catholics vehemently denied.34 Whatever the truth of the matter Caecilian’s ordination was judged to be false by the Numidian and Carthaginian opposition who ordained Majorinus, a servant of Lucilla, and then the eponymous Donatus to the bishopric of Carthage against Caecilian.35 This created a situation where there were two bishops of Carthage each supported not only by groups of the Carthaginian clergy and laity but also by groups of Christians across North Africa. Despite the intervention of Constantine at the Council of Arles, who sided with the Catholics but also tried to achieve unity within the North African Church, the schism snowballed into life as killings and persecution solidified support for the two groups among their core constituencies (although there always appears to have been a floating Christian population who vacillated between the two Churches) and ruined any chance of rapprochement for many years.36

Mensurius, Bishop of Carthage, and his successor and then priest Caecilian made enemies during the persecution over the treatment of the martyrs, as the Donatist version of The Acts of the Abitinian Martyrs makes clear.28 Under the instructions of Mensurius, Caecilian had prevented members of the congregation from taking food to imprisoned confessors, probably in an attempt to prevent these people from also being arrested and executed as the law demanded.29 There was, however, a fight between Caecilian’s men and the congregation during which some of the latter were beaten, an act for which Caecilian was never forgiven by much of the Carthaginian Christian community. Caecilian was also alleged, prior to the persecution, to have upset a rich Christian woman named Lucilla when he rebuked her for kissing a martyr’s bone in a pagan fashion; the humiliated Lucilla nursed a hatred for Caecilian and used her status to The picture of Caecilian produced in The Acts of Saturninus (otherwise known as the Acts of the Abitinian Martyrs) cannot be trusted given that it was written by implacable opponents of the Bishop of Carthage, nevertheless it seems that Caecilian was skilled at making enemies. Dearn postulated that the Acts may be entirely pseudo-historical but these arguments are not entirely convincing given the patchiness of the historical record. Dearn 2004, 1-18. The dating of the start of the schism is also a matter for debate. Barnes 1975, 13-22; Frend and Clancy 1977, 104-9. 29 Acta Saturnini, 20.

28

30

Optatus, I.16. Optatus, I.18. Optatus, I.18; 27 and App. II 33 Optatus, I.14-15 and 18. 34 Optatus, App. II 35 Optatus, I.20 and App. II. Alexander 1980: 540-7. 36 Optatus, App. IV For Donatist violence against Catholics see Optatus, II.17; August. and c. litt. Pet. I.24.26 31 32

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Constans, following his father’s policy of favouring the Catholics, attempted to end the schism between 346 and 348 by exiling the Donatist leadership and by persecuting the rest of their Church but this attempt at unification was only half-heartedly undertaken and Julian allowed Christian exiles across the Empire to return to their home in 361.37 Optatus writes that the returnees immediately opened up a new campaign of violence against the Catholic community and the Donatists quickly reasserted their position in North Africa.38 Firmus’ rebellion led to further problems between the religious communities. The Donatists lent their backing to a new emperor who might support their religious pre-eminence but although Catholic texts describe him negatively we are not provided with any evidence that Catholics suffered persecution indeed Augustus was forced to quote persecution of the Rogatists by the usurper to demonstrate his point that the schismatics made use of secular power against their adversaries.39 Following Firmus’ fall anti-Donatist legislation was promulgated, although it seems to have been sparsely implemented.40 The Donatists had again chosen the wrong emperor to lavish praise on. Julian and the rebel Firmus were hardly examples that the non-African Church would have cited as exemplars of ‘good’ emperors and such strategic mistakes would not have done the Donatists panMediterranean image much good.

for all under the comes Marcellinus. This council found in favour of the Catholics and laws were enacted to outlaw Donatism but even then the split within the Church was not healed. Some Donatist communities and bishops undoubtedly converted but it is clear that it continued well into the Vandal and Byzantine periods; as late as 596 Pope Gregory the Great may have been dealing with active Donatists.42 Laws may have been issued, enforced and conversion occurred but elements of the Donatist community were resilient and held fast to their beliefs. To the Catholics and modern scholars this split is a schism, a divide within the Church over a point of ecclesiastical discipline without theological connotations, but to the Donatists this was a split based not only on the heresy and apostasy of their opponents, who used Imperial soldiery to enforce their will, but also on the fact that the sins of their first opponents were passed down from bishop to bishop and priest to priest in every generation of that Church. The sacraments of the apostates were invalid to the Donatists and Catholics were re-baptised if they wished to reenter the ‘true’ Church. This divide in the way that the two parties viewed the split is fundamental to the continuation of the mutual antipathy throughout this period. Whereas the Catholics, and modern scholars who slavishly follow the arguments of their Catholic sources, could not or would not understand the depth of feeling among the Donatists, the Donatists were unable to understand why the avowedly Christian Imperial power and Mediterranean Church would back heretics and traditores against them. This attitude towards the Catholics is crucial in understanding why the Donatists approached splits within their own communion in a rather different fashion to the way in which they dealt with the Catholic ‘heretics’. Other North African sects such as the Rogatists, Maximianists and Claudianists might be schismatics who had removed themselves from the one communion but they were not heretics and would be welcomed back into the fold with open arms.43

It was Gildo’s fall in 397 that brought about vigorous, renewed anti-Donatist repression and a re-establishment of Catholic superiority. The Donatists had allowed themselves to become too close to a usurper because of the influence and potential for enforcing adherence to Donatism that it had given them. Bishop Optatus of Thamugadi, one of late fourth century Donatism’s most prominent individuals and immensely powerful in his own right was executed as a rebel after Gildo’s death.41 New imperial officials were put in place who allowed Catholics to prosecute Donatists under legislation that had been designed against heretics and in 411 a great Council of Carthage, which amassed as many Catholic and Donatist bishops as possible, was called to settle the schism once and

The fear of ritual contagion also seems to have conditioned the Donatist emphasis on separation from the impure, secular world on which the Catholics relied.44 Two statements are key to this

37

Optatus, II.16. Optatus, II.17. August. c. ep. Parm. I.10.16 and c. litt. Pet. II.184.84. Passio Sanctae Salsae 40 CTh XVI.6.1 41 Cf. page 15, 36, 60-62, 79, 111. August. c. litt. Pet., II.23.53. ‘He (Optatus) oppressed widows, evicted orphans, distributed other people’s estates, broke apart other’s marriages, took charge of the sale of innocent’s properties and took a share of the sale whilst the owners mourned.’ My translation. 38 39

42

Gregory, Ep. 6.34 The Rogatists (split circa 364), Claudianists (split pre 392) and the Maximianists (split 392-7) split from the main body of the Donatists. 44 The Donatists labelled themselves as saints; August. c. litt. Pet. III.8.9. The leaders of the Circumcellions described themselves as the ‘Leaders of the Saints’; Optatus, III.4. There are several church inscriptions that mention the {footnote continues} 43

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proposition. In 347, Donatus, in confronting the commissioners of Constans who had decided against him raged: “What has the Church to do with the emperor,” while half a century later the Donatist Bishop Petilian of Constantine wrote to Augustine: “But what do you have to do with the kings of the world, in whom Christianity has never found anything save envy towards her?”45 To the Donatists, a persecuted community adhering to African tradition and apostolic precepts, the Christian Empire was a trick practised upon the righteous by the Devil. As such Church and State had to be separated from each other; Constantine’s reign had changed nothing. This rhetoric of separation did not lead to a nationalistic separatist movement but it demonstrated the illegitimacy of the Catholic Church, in the eyes of the Donatists, as it relied on the backing of the State against the true Church. The undermining of the State’s position in regard to the exercise of faith also strengthened the Donatist bishops’ hand in their arguments with the Imperial authorities and the Catholic hierarchy.

with it; the latter complains that the Donatists justified their separation by appealing to biblical texts such as 1 Corinthians 5, 11: ‘…. you should not associate with a person who calls himself a brother but is immoral or greedy or worships idols or is a slanderer or a drunkard or a thief. Don’t even sit down to eat with such a person.’48 Some of the measures that individual Donatist congregations took against their Catholic opponents would have been effective in distinguishing between the two groups while others may have broken the will of some Catholics in largely Donatist areas to remain separated from the Donatist Church. For instance, the restrictions on Catholics being buried in Donatist cemeteries recorded by Augustine limited Donatist and Catholic contact at important ritual occasions and may even have impacted upon Catholic visits to Donatist held martyr shrines.49 Augustine also records Donatist interdictions on intermarriage between the two groups and on Donatist bakers supplying bread to Catholics both of which would have caused even greater separation between the two congregations while the latter may have forced individuals to convert or face starvation.50

So there was an anti-imperial rhetoric practised by some among the hierarchy of the Donatist Church but this leadership clearly chose when to approach the Imperial power and when to condemn it. This pragmatic attitude led to the Donatist hierarchy appealing to Constantine, Constans and Julian for judgements in their favour as well as more locally to imperial authorities.46 However, this anti-imperial rhetoric of separation was expanded to the Catholics and although martyr stories were polemical works there is evidence some Donatists did avoid contact with the ‘heretics’. There are two, complementary, reasons for this sectarianism. First there was the desire to avoid ritual pollution that the ‘sons of the traditores’ might pass on to the elect, and second there was the desire to break the opposing community’s will through the exercise of power, in other words creating unity through force.47

However, the effect of these measures should not be over-emphasised. Obviously there were periods when these embargos and insults damaged relations between the two communities but there is plenty of evidence that there were periods when the Donatist and Catholic hierarchies and lay people were on good terms and had greater enemies in the pagans and Manichees.51 Given that some Donatists attended Augustine’s services to hear him preach or to ask him to mediate in their disputes, that before he embarked upon his ecclesiastical career he was close to Vincentius the future Rogatist bishop of Cartenna and that members of his family were Donatist, it would be unwise for us to assume that all members of the sect followed the hardline of the Donatist polemicists too closely.52 48 Also 2 John 16 and 2 Timothy 2,17, Optatus conflates these texts to produce: “Do not even take meals with these people, do not say hello to them, for their speech creeps like a cancer.” Optatus, IV.5. See Edwards 1997, 88 n. 24. 49 August. Enarratio in Ps. 54, 20. 50 August. Serm. 46.7.15 and c. litt. Pet. II.84.184. The Catholics also enforced measures to prevent the sons of their clergy from marrying pagans and heretics, to prevent the ordination of clergy whose households contained nonCatholics and to prevent bishops appointing heretics or pagans as their heirs. Council of Carthage, Canons 21, 38, 81 (419). 51 For instance both Donatists and Catholics prompted Augustine to take on Manichean preachers in debate. Poss. V. Aug. 6. 52 Poss. V. Aug. 7. August. Ep. 33.5; 93.1 and 52.2. Augustine and his Donatist opposite number, Macrobius of Hippo, seem {footnote continues}

Both Augustine and Optatus record this separation and the casual insults that went along concepts of the ‘Just’, ‘Sanctity’ and the ‘Saints’ (not including of course references to actual saints); for instance, at Henchir el-Guesseria there is the inscription ‘h(a)ec porta Domi(n)i. justi intrabunt’, such a text could hardly have been placed on a Catholic Church with their concept of a church embracing both the wheat and the tares. Monceaux 1912, 454-5. 45 Optatus, III, 3. August. c. litt. Pet., II.93.202-213 and Io. ev. tr. VI.25-26. 46 For the appeal to Julian see August. c. litt. Pet., II.93.203, although this is something of a biased version of events. 47 Frend 1952, 191-2, n. 7.

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‘worshippers’ and Catholic anti-idolatry ‘reformers’ is an unreal, sloppy acceptance of propaganda. Reality was more nuanced than the picture produced by individuals and stereotypes.

Traditional observance and the conditioning produced by persecution also affected the way that the two Churches approached martyrdom and the martyrs. In discussing this it must be noted that the evidence, especially in respect of martyrdom, is problematic as both Catholic and Donatist writings on the martyrs often amount to biased invective against their opponents. However, the evidence of Augustine and Optatus has led Frend and Monceaux to accept that the Donatists had a greater obsession with martyrdom than did the Catholics.53 However, these sources were clearly prejudiced in nature and cannot be trusted, an obsession with martyrdom could, after all, be made to look like idolatry. For instance, Augustine’s Letter 52 claim that his opponents ‘worshipped’ earth from the East cannot be other than anti-Donatist abuse, while Petilian’s comment that the Catholics did not reverence the martyrs was clearly antiCatholic invective as there is plenty of evidence that Catholics held the martyrs in high regard.54 Both communities had demonstrated their fidelity to the martyrs through the eucharists that they celebrated at the tombs of the dead but in the Augustinian era the Catholic prelates tried to crack down on their congregations taking part as the feasts and their accompanying inebriation was suspiciously ‘pagan’. Augustine records the riotous celebrations that Christians held at the feast of Leontius, a martyr from Hippo Regius, but he prevented his people from taking part.55 Indeed Augustine’s mother Monnica had to be stopped from celebrating feasts at the tombs of the saints in Milan.56 The importance of the martyrs and the concept of persecution and martyrdom to all North African Christians can be demonstrated by examining the way that Augustine spent much of his work against Petilian refuting the accusations of persecution against the Catholic Church and showing the Donatists’ hypocrisy as they attacked Catholics for their faith.57 The duality of Donatist martyr

Martyrdom itself does seem to have played a crucial part in the psyche of many Donatists. It gave them an ideology to retreat too once the Christian Empire began to persecute the schismatic Church and created a group identity based upon the veneration of their martyrs. In the words of the Donatist bishops at the Council of Carthage, they were the Church: ‘that suffers persecution but does not persecute’, moreover the importance of martyrdom to their Church can be seen by the fact that the majority of the extant Donatist literature are passion stories.58 Indeed, even in Augustine’s criticisms of the works of Parmenian, Petilian and Cresconius, the ideal of martyrdom in the Donatist Church shines through.59 Martyrdom was so important to the Donatist Church that it was considered sacrilege that ‘traditores’ could be in the same Church as the martyrs.60 Donatist Circumcellions were also devotees of martyr cult as they attended the rural shrines and were honoured, even in the mid fourth century, with burial inside churches by Donatist priests at a time when such burial was reserved for the saints.61 Canon 83 of the Catholic Council of Carthage in 419 would later make provision for the destruction of shrines and mensae (offering tables) that contained the relics of false martyrs. Some Donatist fanatics, it was alleged, were so appalled at being thwarted in their desire for martyrdom by the advent of the Christian Empire that they threw themselves to their deaths or forced others to kill them.62 The concepts of persecution and martyrdom were all58 Bishop Habetdeus read out a letter at the Council in 411, it opens (my translation): “… Januarius and the other bishops of the catholic truth that suffers persecution but which does not commit it …” Gesta Coll. Carth. III.258. The Donatist martyr stories are: The Donatist Passion of Saint Cyprian; The Acts of Saint Felix, bishop and martyr; The Passion of Saints Maxima, Donatilla and Secunda; The Acts of Saturninus/The Acts of the Abitinian Martyrs; A Sermon Given on the Passion of Saints Donatus and Advocatus; The Passion of Maximian and Isaac and The Martyrdom of Marculus, all of these are included in Tilley 1996. 59 Augustine’s works mentioned above, Against Petilian, Against Parmenian and Against Cresconius. 60 Acta Saturninus, 2, and August. c. litt. Pet. II.39.92. 61 Optatus, III.4. Optatus claimed that there was disagreement within Donatism with the hierarchy making a priest, Clarus, disinter some Circumcellions that he had buried as martyrs. 62 August. c. ep. Parm. I.10.16, c. Gaud., I.28.32 and Ep. 185.3.12. Logeart 1940, 30-35 and Leschi 1940, 5-29 both record Christian epitaphs, which have been interpreted as those of voluntary suicides over the precipices of the Djebel. Optatus, II.3.4; August. c. litt. Pet. I.24.26; II.20.44-46 and c. Gaud. I.22.25; I.27.30; I.28.32.

to have had mutual respect for each other judging by Augustine’s letters to him and Catholics and Donatists even managed to live in the same house. August. Ep. 35, 2 and 33, 5. 53 Frend 1988b, 160 and Monceaux 1912, 462. 54 August. c. litt. Pet., II.159. The statement is patently false, as the list of miracles produced by the saints and martyrs in the City of God makes clear. August. Conf. VI.2 and Ep. 39.2. At the festival of Leontius Augustine substituted hymn singing for getting drunk and he also created the epitaph for the Catholic deacon Nabor, murdered by the Donatists, who he elevated to the rank of martyr. Quaesten 1940, 253-264. Frend 1952, 232. 55 Compare the feasts of Leontius with those of the god Draco at Tipasa. August. Ep. 29. Cf. pages 68-69. 56 August. Conf. VI.2.2 57 August. c. litt. Pet., I.18.20; 24.26; II, 14.31-3; 19.42-3; 20.44-6; 39.92-4; 89.194-5 etc.

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important to the Donatists as fidelity to the martyrs of the Great Persecution and Christian history gave the schism its legitimacy and spiritual fire during the fourth century but they did not have a monopoly on martyr cult and devotion to their celebrations of martyrs’ feasts.

bishoprics in such locations in an attempt to solidify support.66 For example, by appointing a bishop to the previously Donatist castella of Fussala, Augustine was able to cement the loyalty of its inhabitants to Catholicism despite the fact that the bishop, Antoninus, was corrupt and stole from his flock.67

DONATISM: A NATIONAL OR SOCIAL REVOLT?

Frend and others have also used the Donatist Church’s links to the Circumcellions to demonstrate a radical, social revolutionary aspect to Donatism.68 There is a substantial debate about the exact character of the Circumcellions and even about the derivation of their name. It has been argued that they were a class of people engaged in the harvest of crops in the south of Roman North Africa, some of whom were involved in violence against the enemies of the Donatist Church, but it is far more likely that they were religious itinerants who moved from Christian shrine to Christian shrine and were involved in the religious disputes of the day.69 The initial outbreak of Circumcellion violence occurred during the 340s and was led by the ‘Captains of the Saints’ Axido and Fasir, men with native Libyan names but who were not Donatist clergy. So severe was the violence and so powerless were the Donatist Church to control

It was suggested by Frend that the survival of the movement was due to its links to nationalistic sentiment and social discontent indeed he writes that: ‘Donatism was not merely a schism, it was part of a revolution’.63 He also suggested that the Donatist hierarchy and its clergy encouraged these sentiments or at the least supported sedition against the ‘Roman’ land and slave owning, Catholic hierarchy. If this was the case it might be expected that this would have an effect upon how the Donatists related to urban society in general being as it was the seat of the Roman civilisation. These theories do not really stand up to scrutiny. While the sources make clear that there was a Donatist majority in provinces such as Numidia and Mauretania as opposed to Catholic domination in Byzacena and Proconsularis this does not, in itself, imply Donatist superiority in rural areas because of any philosophies about equality and poverty.64 The argument implies that Donatist strongholds were substantially less urban and were poorer than other regions of North Africa, which given the plethora of cities across Numidia, seems to be a forced dichotomy. As Février’s work has shown, through a survey of bishoprics named at the Council of Carthage, the predominance of Donatism in Numidia in terms of the numbers of bishops is a fallacy with relatively few Donatist sees in these areas being unopposed. Both Alypius of Thagaste and the Donatist Petilian of Constantine undermine the picture of a rural Donatism opposing an urban Catholicism.65 At the Council of Carthage both bishops stated that their rivals had rural sees in villages, native castella and on estates and it is clear that there was a tendency to found

66 Gesta Coll. Carth. I.181-182 ‘181. Alypius, bishop of the Catholic Chuch, said … “ all those there have been ordained bishops in the villages or on the estates, not in the cities” … 182. The bishop Petilian said: “ of the same manner, you have many dispersed throughout all of the fields. Indeed, frequently where you have them in quantity, you have them without a community”.’ My trans. 67 August. Ep. 20* and 209. 68 See Saumange 1934, 351-364; Frend 1952; Brisson 1958; Frend 1969, 542-4; Frend 1979, 21-38 9; Frend 1988b, 154167; Rubin 1994, 129-187. Others see no element of social or national revolt in their programme – Gaddis 2005, 103-130 and 127; Shaw 2004, 227-258. Tilley 1996, 14 takes a more nuanced view of the problem: “Social history illuminates but cannot independently explain all facets of this disagreement”. 69 Frend 1969, 543. Frend believes that their name reflects their sacred associations with circum cellas refers to the martyr’s shrines of North Africa around which the Circumcellions were said to have moved. Other scholars interpret cellae as being short for cellae rusticanae or oleariae, a reading that more closely reflects their perceived agricultural role. Cf. August. Ep. 185; c. Cresc., III.42.46 and Ad Catholicos contra Donatistas Epistola, 19.50 and 20.54. Optatus, III.4. That they were the lowest free class rather than mere bandits has been taken from the Theodosian Code, Book XVI.5.52, 30/01/412 where in a list of fines to be levied for being Donatists the Circumcellions are included a grouping alongside senators, decurions, tradesmen, plebeians, slaves, coloni etc. Unlike slaves and coloni they were to be fined rather than being punished physically. Optatus, III, 4 and the Theodosian Code, Book XVI.5.54, have been used to show that the Circumcellions were workers on the estates of North Africa, itinerant labourers who made their living from the various harvests of different agricultural products. Such inferences may be reading too much into problematic texts, certainly they do not appear as agricultural workers in Augustine or Optatus. Shaw 2004, 244-248 has argued against them being seen as quasi-monks.

63 Frend 1952, 336. Other key books and articles in this area are: Saumange 1934, 351-364; Brisson 1958; Jones 1959, 308-329; Mandouze 1960, 61-107; Tengstrom 1964; Février 1966a, 699-711. 64 Gesta Coll. Carth. I.165 and August., Ad Catholicos contra Donatistas Epistola, XIX.51, Frend 1952, 49-50. It is also clear that there were many cities in Numidia of a substantial size suggesting that the opposition between a rural Numidia and a heavily urbanised Africa Proconsularis is false. 65 Février 1966a, 699-711. Only thirteen Donatist sees had no rival in the south of Numidia, two were in this situation in Sitifensis and five in the north of Numidia.

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them that they called in the comes, Taurinus, to suppress them.70 This violence was alleged by Optatus to have been directed against the wealthy but in later periods of their activity the attacks seem to have been aimed at Catholicism per se, and Catholic converts in particular rather than the rich; in these circumstances the Donatist clergy frequently led them. The Circumcellion attacks on the wealthy, when they occurred, are given prominence by Augustine and Optatus because of the shock they engendered in an elite that was used to being treated with respect. Indeed, given the lack of detail or concrete examples of such violence, and the litany of named clergy who were attacked, it might even be possible to view the descriptions of the attacks on the wealthy as a rhetorical assault on Donatist motives more generally, an attempt to separate the ‘schismatics’ from wealthy supporters inside North Africa and the Church and Imperial authorities outside the region.71 It may also be that for Donatist Circumcellions, who were apparently near the bottom of the social tree whether or not they were actually a class of people, an attack on a wealthy Catholic was a more profitable act of violence than an attack on a Catholic peasant but this does not mean that the violence was not primarily religious.

Finally, it is obvious that appealing to the poor was a tactic that both Churches used rather than being the sole preserve of Donatists. It must be remembered that Christianity as a whole spoke for the lower classes. The clergy acted as intermediaries between the poor and their social betters and the faith as a whole appealed to all sections of the community. In this way we can explain Augustine’s psalmum contra pars donati, a simple acrostic psalm that could appeal to those without formal education or, given that there were ‘Punic’ speakers, a particularly good grasp of Latin.75 Augustine wrote this psalm in response to the hymns of Parmenian that appealed to common Donatists and Circumcellions. This was a battle for numbers rather than a battle of ideology between a Donatist Church aiming its message at the poor and a Catholic Church pitching to the rich.76 It seems unlikely that Donatism had a specific appeal for the mass of the North African population, due to its attitudes to social justice, any more than Catholicism did. Frend’s suggestion that the Donatist Church was supported by and expressed, however subconsciously, the separatist desires of the ‘Berber’ peoples of the region also seems unlikely.77 The first point to make here is that ‘Berber’ is an anachronistic term for the Libyan peoples of North Africa and, in consequence, will not be used in this book.78 The argument that Donatism articulated Libyan separatism is difficult to prove because of the difficulties of defining discrete ethnic groups in a land that had known periods of both Phoenician and Roman colonisation. Over the centuries of Carthaginian and Roman rule and cultural influence there would clearly have been much interaction between the native peoples and their rulers at all levels of society as many of the people that were introduced into the provinces were poor or veterans.79 The poor of any class would have had much in common with each other despite language differences, as the rhythm of their lives would have been so similar. Gradual

A further point against Donatism being a socially revolutionary Church is the fact that it was, in itself, very prosperous. The size of its church at Thamugadi demonstrates power, prestige and a lot of available money and over the century of its existence the Donatist Church would have gathered land and money to itself through wills and gifts from its members despite the attempts of the Imperial authorities to prevent ‘heretics’ from creating legacies.72 Its members could also be very wealthy; the fifth century laws against Donatism in the Theodosian Code suggest that Donatists came from all levels of society from slaves to spectabiles while the works of Augustine and Optatus demonstrate that the Donatists had many brilliant, well-educated clerics and laymen among their number; the senator Celer, the comes Flavian, the vicarius Seranus and many of its bishops and theologians were clearly not rustics used to the harsh life of the Circumcellions or coloni.73 One, Tyconius, was respected enough to be quoted by Augustine on his keys to understanding scripture.74

75

Van der Meer 1961, 104. MacMullen 1967, 236. August. Ep. 247. 77 Frend 1952, 56-59. Frend 1948-9, 492-3. Frend 1942b, 342-352. Against Frend: Jones 1959, 308-329; Brown 1961, 83-101. Février 1966a, 228-240. 78 Obviously the term Berber refers to a modern ethnolinguistic group that may be the descendant of Libyans but as there have been other ethnic and linguistic contributions to this group over the last two thousand years it would be wrong to classify Libyan peoples of the fourth century as being Berbers. Ancient writers identify the tribes of the south Byzacenan littoral and the Tripolitanian pre-desert as Libyans. 79 Fentress 1983, 161-175. 76

70

Optatus, III.4 August. Ep. 56 and 58 involve the conversion of rich Donatists. 72 CTh. XVI.5.40. 22/02/407. 73 Frend 1952, 200 and 220. 74 August. Ep. 93 and doctr. chr. III.92-93, for example. Beatus of Libana also used Tyconius in the same way. Chadwick 1988, 49-55 71

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Donatist.87 It is unlikely that only Donatists used this geometric style as such art types were very popular throughout the late Empire.88 The evidence does not support a connection between Donatism and the revival of Libyan art as part of a wider anti-Roman movement in the region.

acculturation, intermarriage and the spread of the Punic and Latin languages over centuries of rule would have created more bonds between different groups although the exact nature of these is a matter of debate.80 So to speak of the rural dwellers as being Libyan as opposed to the Romanised city population of the coast is inaccurate; multiple ethnic and linguistic allegiances might exist in the same person let alone across the vast expenses of Roman North Africa.81 To believe in a homogenous Libyan group that would support the Donatist Church rather than the Catholic is surely wrong on a number of counts; there was no Libyan bloc.

From epigraphic and literary evidence it is clear that ‘native’ peoples could be found in both the Donatist and Catholic churches. For instance we have a catalogue of names of martyrs who are unknown from Catholic martyrologies from churches in central Numidia while from Ala Milaria we have the tomb of Robba, a Donatist martyr.89 On the other hand Augustine defended the solemnity of martyrs with non-Roman names in Letter 17, specifically mentioning Migin, a saint recorded in one of those central Numidian churches. There are clearly people identified as Catholics that have native names such as the Nabor, for whom Augustine wrote an epitaph after his murder by Donatists, or the Donatist deacon Mutugenna who had previously been a Catholic.90 On the other hand it is also clear that both churches had trouble-recruiting clergy who could speak anything other than Latin and that this was a cause for concern.91 So, Macrobius, Donatist Bishop of Hippo, had to use a translator in order to make himself clear to a band of Circumcellions that he was attempting to calm while Augustine demanded a hearing with Crispinus of Calama following the latter’s forcible rebaptism of Catholic coloni on an estate he had just bought, the results of which were to be written down into ‘Punic’ for the natives.92 Augustine even flouted ecclesiastical law to get native-speaking clergy into sees where they were needed.93

One of the main pieces of evidence for the antiClassicism, Libyan is the appearance of a ‘native art form’ in the provinces of North Africa during the late Empire.82 Frend draws parallels between the geometric designs and the pre-Roman art forms of the region, claiming that they owe nothing to the creations of the Greco-Roman civilisation.83 For Frend the use of this style suggests that the natives had taken a supreme dislike to the Roman Empire and anything associated with it.84 Some of the churches in the south of Numidia where the bulk of the native art appears, such as at Henchir Tentila and Mascula, also have Donatist deo laudes inscriptions.85 Perhaps the most stunning example of this is in the baptistery in the Church of Optatus at Thamugadi where the font is covered in polychrome geometric designs and shows no small degree of craftsmanship.86 Frend argues that the prevalence of this art in the basilicas of southern Numidia demonstrates the hegemony of the Donatist Church in the region because of his theory that Donatism was a native religion and his belief that Donatism was overwhelmingly dominant in the province. However, it has already been demonstrated that the Catholics did maintain bishoprics and priests in areas that Frend has asserted were almost entirely

87

See above page 13. Cf. the volumes of the Corpus des mosaiques de Tunisie, which lists many examples of geometric, fourth century mosaics at various North African cities. 89 Frend 1988c, 265. Leschi 1936, 34. Courcelle 1936, 166197. Berthier 1942, 211. Monceaux 1912, 479-480. 90 A list of such martyrs names can be produced, Dacunis, Migin, Baricus, (B)erect(h), Baclinis, Dason, Diaucis, Misac.., Sa(ga)ris, and (Pa)nfila. Miggin is spelt with two g’s in the letters of Augustine, but with one on the inscription from Rouis; they were probably the same person. August. Ep. 23. Carcopino 1952, 431-3. 91 August. Ep. 34 and 84. Macrobius, Donatist Bishop of Hippo, had to use a translator in order to make himself clear to a band of Circumcellions that he was attempting to calm. 92 August. Ep. 108. There is an extensive debate as to whether Augustine’s references to Punic actually mean a Libyan native language or Punic but for this work it is enough to know that he was speaking of a rural population who appear to have had trouble communicating, or at least reading, in Latin. Cf. Frend 1942a, 188-191. Frend 1952. Courtois 1950, 259-282. MacMullen 1966, 1-17. 93 August. Ep. 93. 88

80

Fentress 1979; Fentress 1983, 161-175; Cherry 1998 and Shaw 1983, 133-159. 81 There is a considerable debate about what Augustine means by ‘Punic’ with Frend favouring ‘Berber’ and others such as MacMullen favouring Punic. August. Ep. 209.2-5. Frend 1942a, 188-191 and Frend 1952, 57-8. Millar 1968, 126-153. MacMullen 1966, 1-17. 82 Frend 1942b, 345-6. Duval 1989, 348. Duval writes against this art form as being specifically linked to Donatism. 83 Frend 1942b, 345. 84 Frend 1942b, 345. Frend explains the destruction of a Roman funerary monument at Henchir Tentila as the deliberate targeting of the cultural expressions of an alien oppressor state but the defacing could have taken place in any era and some interpretations of Islam are antipathetic to the figural representation of human beings; the destruction of the Buddhas of Bamiyan being a case in point. 85 See pages 35-6 for Donatist inscriptions. Frend 1942b, 351. 86 Frend 1978, 410-489.

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population supposedly resented.95 Donatism was not just a religion of the native rural landscape, its organisation was centred on the towns, and at Carthage the mass was important in the origin of the schism.96

Finally the hypothesis of an alliance between a small number of rich, educated Donatists and the rural, native population is further undermined by the persistence and permeation of Latin culture throughout that Church as a whole. The leadership of the Donatist Church, as has been shown above, were clearly highly educated Latin speakers who spoke and wrote in Latin even while producing their passions, which were specifically aimed at the mass of their congregations. There is no indication that the Donatist hierarchy had any interest in producing literature that a native Libyan-speaking population would understand; in terms of their social and cultural background these men had more in common with the Catholic leadership than they did with many of their own congregations. 94

CONCLUSION This chapter has dealt with several important aspects of North African history and religion in this period. It is important to note that the region was generally on the periphery of the major political tumults of the period. In consequence the upheavals within society that were experienced by other parts of the Empire were unlikely to have occurred there in the same way. We might therefore expect to see a greater degree of continuity in some aspects of city life. At the same time the vibrant religious debate in the region and the polarisation between powerful Churches is likely to have played a role in shaping the cityscape in this period even if the evidence does not point to the Donatist Church being the ecclesiastical vehicle of a downtrodden, ‘Berber’ peasant revolt against a capitalistic, exploitative, pro-Roman aristocracy who supported the Catholic Church. The attitudes of the Churches towards the martyrs and ‘secular’ society will also have impacted upon the way that the churches related to the city. These aspects will all need to be borne in mind when examining the cities in the case studies and evaluating the trends and developments that they demonstrate.

Latin was also used in the liturgy of the Donatist Church and all inscriptions in North African churches were in that language even in southern Numidia, which was supposedly the stronghold of the native peoples. The most damning piece of evidence comes in the Circumcellion war cry of deo laudes: if the Circumcellions were bent on any form of African independence or were intensely anti-Roman why did they choose a Latin phrase as their battle cry? Indeed, the prestige of the bishop, in the eyes of the entire population, may have come as much from the fact that their base was located within a Romanised city, the heart of power within its territory, with Latin inscriptions in their basilica and with a multitude of clergy preaching in Latin, as it did from the support of the Circumcellions or the native princes Gildo and Firmus who had themselves ‘bought in to’ Roman powerstructures. So the dichotomy that is produced of a largely Romano-Catholic axis in the towns and a largely Libyan-Donatist axis in the fields is generally false. Despite the ties between the Circumcellions and the Donatist Church, it would be wrong to visualise this as either a social or national revolution propagated by the schismatic leadership. The Donatist hierarchy was based on the cities rather than the villages, estates or the tribal region of the Aurès Mountains, the major figures of the schism had their sees in Carthage, Timgad, Caesarea and Cirta-Constantine and spoke and wrote in Latin. Most Donatist and Catholic bishoprics were based in urban foundations, places that were the centres of a Latin culture that the native 94 Some of the native population could clearly read in ‘Punic’ as otherwise the documentation that Augustine suggested in his debate with Crispinus would have been pointless.

95 96

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Brown 1968, 92. Optatus, I.15-19.

CHAPTER 3 NORTH AFRICA IN CONTEXT: MEDITERRANEAN URBANISM IN THE LATE ROMAN PERIOD

debasement of the classical ideal. More modern views of the development of urbanism in late antiquity suggest that these changes were a simple evolution in the urban forms and living patterns of the elite and the poor as a consequence of changes in ideology, religion and priorities of the population. Even now the debate over the term goes on with some scholars seeing it as the only reasonable word to use when confronted with late Roman and late antique cities with dwindling populations, large-scale abandonment and landscapes denuded of monumental buildings.2

INTRODUCTION During late antiquity there were a series of transformations occurring in the cities of the Roman Empire. Some of these changes were common to all cities within the Empire while others can be described as being largely confined to more discrete regions such as the northwestern European provinces, the Balkans, the Eastern provinces or Italy. It is also necessary to produce a disclaimer here, the comments that follow on these large regions are, by their very nature, heavily generalised. Even on a provincial level there were cities and areas that thrived, constructing or maintaining their public structures, while others cities in the same province atrophied and became ‘fields of ruins’ but the framework that is produced works well for the large regions as a whole. This chapter will seek to address the general processes that were occurring in the various regions of the Empire in order to create potential models for the development of North Africa in this period.

CHRISTIANISATION OF THE CITY Some of the most important changes to the late Roman cityscape were processes that were general to the entire Empire and can therefore be dealt with before regional issues are examined. The most noticeable and perhaps most revolutionary of these processes as well as being, for some, one of the prime indicators of a classical society degenerating into a premedieval morass is that of Christianisation. In this context Christianisation means the process whereby the structures of Christianity came to dominate the urban topography and the gradual conversion of the urban population. Linked to this is the Christianisation of time by the provision of Christian festivals that came to supplant earlier pagan celebrations within the cities. There are several facets to the assimilation of the physical, urban landscape by Christians in the fourth and fifth centuries when buildings were demolished, converted and constructed to suit Christian purposes. Each of these developments had its own set of ideologies and practicalities associated with it. Taking these three parts of the Christianisation of the city in order, this section will examine how these proceeded in the fourth and fifth centuries.

It was the case in the so-called ‘Old Orthodoxy’ that the changes that occurred in the later Empire demonstrated the ‘decline’ of the classical city to a more rudimentary form of urbanism.1 The changes in late antique cities that used to be considered to be demonstrative of the decline and decay of the classical city include: the shrinkage of the inhabited urban area; the construction of walls around reduced areas; a decline in the population both in the cities and the countryside; a decline in aristocratic euergetism and a concomitant movement of the elite from the cities to their rural domains; the abandonment or destruction of earlier monuments; the adaptation of some of these buildings and of the general urban topography for Christian uses and finally a decline in economic vitality including longdistance trade. Some of these processes occurred in the Western half of the Empire, some occurred in the East and some throughout the Empire as a whole. What can be debated, however, is the concept that these changes demonstrate the

2

Liebescheutz 2001 is just one recent book that uses ‘decline’ as the key characteristic of late Roman cities. Other recent works that emphasise the catastrophic nature of the collapse of the Western Roman Empire are Ward-Perkins, B. 2005 and Heather 2005.

1 By the term ‘Old Orthodoxy’ I mean the way in which the way in which the changes during the late Empire were viewed in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century.

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The laws against paganism, promulgated by the imperial authorities during the fourth century, were primarily aimed at destroying the ritual of sacrifice to the gods and to the ancestors. However they also had the effect that the entirety of pagan worship was undermined and Christian radicals in many different regions of the Empire felt that there was an opportunity to destroy the physical integrity of pagan cult and through that the backbone of pagan cult as a whole. From the time of Constantine onwards certain pagan temples were demolished, although during his reign these destructions were related to specific circumstances such as the presence of ritual prostitution or sexual activity at a temple, a situation that was particularly offensive to Christian mores, or so that new basilicas could be built at Christian holy sites.3 Examples of this process include Constantine’s destruction of the Temple of Venus at Jerusalem in order that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre could be built on its site.4 This created the precedent of destroying temples that later Christian communities and Holy Men could look back on as they practised their own despoliations against the ‘sanctuaries of the demons’ either because of righteous indignation at the existence of these places or because the Christian community was prosecuting a religious war against its enemies. In this vein Sulpicius Severus represents St. Martin of Tours as being responsible for the destruction of temples in the late fourth century, which were then replaced by churches, as he attempted to convert the countryside around his see.5 At the other end of the Empire Theophilus, the Bishop of Alexandria, arranged for the destruction of a Mithraeum and the Serapeum in 391, the former so that his congregation could use its premises, and he had the head of the idol of Serapis carried through the streets.6

the greater concentration of Christians and, in particular, monks who were known to be among the most militant of the Christian community in that half of the Empire, but it could also reflect Eastern sources being more comprehensive and pre-occupied with temple destruction than those of the West.8 The destruction of a temple was a dangerous business in itself as the pagan population could act with understandably violent fury as they did during Theophilus’ crusade against the Serapeum.9 Perhaps the Christians in the West, where they were in a minority, were more circumspect due to a fear of similar retribution. Spoliations such as these can be considered to be different from the actual conversion of temples for Christian use as there the building, rather than dismantled architectural elements, was utilised. Again it seems that there were more pagan temples converted for Christian use in the East of the Empire at this period than in the European provinces, but these can hardly be considered to be numerous until the late fifth and the sixth centuries onwards.10 This difference may have been due to the strength of Christianity in the East relative to most of Europe in this era but it may also be the result of continued urban vitality in the East at this juncture; if the cities were thriving the Christian community would have found it difficult to implant large basilicas into an urban context. However, the presence of an Imperial will that desired some, and eventually all, temples closed meant that the Christians could place large structures into the cities by converting the remains of the temples if they had enough support within the city or externally in the shape of powerful individuals who could exert influence over decision making. The process of conversion from secular or pagan use had more than antiquarian motivations. The adaptation of temples must have been conditioned by one or more specific ideological or practical conditions and these will be considered at length in Chapter 5.11 It is important to note here the possible reasons for conversion. The total destruction of temples

It seems that the catalogue of pagan temples destroyed in the Eastern provinces during this period is far larger than any that could be produced for the West.7 This is perhaps due to 3 Euseb. Vit. Const., III.55 and 58 for the Temples of Aphrodite (Salambô and Adonis/Tammuz) at Aphaca and Heliopolis in Phoenicia respectively. Also Jerome, Ep. 58, 3. 4 Euseb. Vit. Const. III.25-40 5 Sulpicius Severus, Vita Sancti Martini, XIII-XV 6 Socrates, Hist. Eccl., V.16-17; Theodoret, HE. V.22.5; Eunap. VS, 472 (numbering is to the pages in Boissonade’s edition); John of Nikiu, Chron., LXXVIII.45; Caillet 1996, 195-196. 7 A large number of examples of temples being destroyed in this period could be quoted but only a few examples are listed here. In the west Jerome records the prefect of the city of Rome destroying a Mithraeum in 376/77 Jerome, Ep. 107.2; at Ostia the Baths of Mithras with their underground Mithraeum were converted to receive a Christian basilica and a cult statue of Mithras slaying the Bull was deliberately {footnote continues}

smashed into pieces and another Mithraea there was destroyed by fire Meiggs 1960, 397 and 401. Cynegius, the virulently anti-pagan praetorian prefect of the East, closed the Egyptian temples in 384 (Theodoret, HE. V.22.3-6); and Marcellus, bishop of Apamea, was killed whilst attempting to dismantle the temple at Aulon after having destroyed the Temple of Zeus in Apamea (Sozom. HE. VII.15.11-15). 8 Libanius blames monks for some of the vandalism against temples Lib. Or. XXX.8-21. Also Eunap. VS, 472 Harmless 2004, 446-7, 466-7. 9 For instance at Alexandria when Bishop George and his followers violated the sanctity of the Mithraeum, Socrates, HE. III.2. For the destruction of other Mithraea see Winter 2000, 103-115. 10 Niederer 1953, 176; Bayliss 2004, 56-57; Caillet 1996, 194-202 11 See pages 93-99.

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before the construction of churches on their sites that occurred during the Constantinian period was partly due to Constantine and Christian communities making ideological points about the strength and importance of Christianity but it also seems that the sites were being ritually cleansed for Christian use by removing the foundations and even earth from the site.12 Ritual pollution, especially at a site of crucial historical and ideological importance such as at the site of the Holy Sepulchre, was to be avoided at all costs.13 This policy was not uniformly adopted everywhere. In Egypt the Church of Saint John the Baptist was placed near Alexandria’s destroyed Serapeum rather than in it, the relics of Cyrus and John were placed into a shrine at Canopus built over the Temple of Isis Medica in 414. Other temples, including the former Temple of Augustus at Alexandria converted into the Kaisareion in the mid-fourth century, seem to have been converted rather than being raised to the ground and their sites used (although the language and therefore the conversion process is not always entirely clear).14 It is possible that the exact treatment of former temples depended on the vitality of their cult before their conversion and whether the shrine had been abandoned for some time. In the case of the Kaisareion the fact that the building had been gifted to Bishop Gregory the Cappadocian as part of Constantius’ pro-Arian policies may have made a difference in the list of priorities that Gregory had to consider when using the site.

paganism by taking over their rivals’ property. Alternatively the Christian hierarchy may have been demonstrating their dominance over city life rather than over paganism per se as many of the transformations took place in the central areas of towns; they may have been demonstrating the centrality of Christianity to the life of the Empire. A final reason for converting a pagan building into a church may have been entirely pragmatic. In a classical city crammed with large public monuments and housing, there may have been no room for a large cathedral or church and their attendant annexes. It is noticeable that the majority of conversions during the later Roman Empire occurred in the East presumably because of a more pressing need for churches there because of a generally higher Christian population. In transforming these temple sites and by taking over areas within the towns the Church was partly responsible for the preservation of the urban topography, especially in the NorthWestern European provinces, at a time of dislocation and urban contraction.15 This was due to an ideological design within the upper echelons of the Church, expressed at the Council of Arles in 314, to situate bishoprics within cities and only within cities and to place a bishopric in every city. This had the effect that churches were inserted into the urban topography of the late Empire and of course confounds the old argument that Christianity in its actions entirely degraded the classical ideal. Was this deliberate? The work of Ward-Perkins on Rome has made it clear that while there was considerable spoliation of the pagan structures there were official attempts under Majorian and Theodoric to limit the destruction of the architectural legacy while it is also clear that into Byzantine times the papacy and other clergy had to get Imperial permission for the transformation or despoliation of temples such as the Pantheon.16 However, it is highly unlikely that the Church set out deliberately to preserve the reminders of the pagan past out of purely antiquarian motives.17 In any case Rome

Certainly concern over the polluting affect of the shrines of ‘demons’ appears to have lessened over time as paganism’s strength waned. During the fifth century the great temple to Aphrodite at Aphrodisias and, probably, the Parthenon were converted into cathedrals. In terms of ideology the Christian communities may have wished to emphasise their victory over the forces of 12

Euseb. Vit. Const. III.25-40 See Ward-Perkins, B. 1984; Hanson 1985, 347-349; WardPerkins, B. 1999, 234-6; Castren 1999, 220. 14 McKenzie, Gibson and Reyes 2004, 107-9; Haas 1997, 209-11, 309; Turcan 1996, 126-8. Bishop Alexander took over a Temple of Kronos sometime after 324 with St Michael put into his place. Kronos’ statue was broken up and the torso was carved into a cross (Sa’id ibn al-Batriq (Eutychius), Annales, 433-35). The Kaisareion was in 339-46 by Gregory the Cappadocian but it was still not completed under Athanasius, Festal Index 37-38; Athanasius, Apologia ad Constantium, XIV-XV; Historia Arianorum, LV-LVI. Athanasius is said to have converted the Temple of Bendis (Synesius, Ep. 4 refer to it as a Temple of Poseidon) into a church in 369 Festal Index 41-42. In none of these case is it clear precisely how these temples were ‘converted’. In June 414 Cyril placed the relics of Cyrus and John into their shrine at Canopus built over the Temple of Isis Medica. Socrates, HE. III.18; Sozom., HE., V.19-20; Theodoret, HE. , III.6; Eunap., VS, 472 (numbering is to the pages in Boissonade’s edition). 13

15

See pages 23-24. Ward Perkins 1999, 237-9; CTh. XVI.10.8 (30th November 381 Gratian, Valentinian and Theodosius) says that temples can be kept open to show off works of art; XVI.10.18 (399 Arcadius and Honorius) bans the destruction of temples empty of illicit things; XVI.10.15 (399 Arcadius and Honorius) states that public works will be preserved; XVI.10.19 (407/8 Arcadius and Honorius) transfers temples to other public use. The Theodosian Code (CTh. XVI.10.16 399 Arcadius and Honorius) commands that rural temples should be torn down. 17 Ward-Perkins, B. 1984, 89-91 and 203-206; Salzman 1999, 123-134; Krautheimer 1980, 72. Laws in the Theodosian Code demonstrate an attempt to protect smaller cities from spoliation for the benefit of larger urban centres (CTh XV.1.1, 14; NTh 15.1-2). There is a debate over {footnote continues} 16

19

was always special and it is unlikely that other cities were quite so well protected by the authorities. The Empire was vast and the Imperial Court could not really stop a Christian governor from arbitrarily converting or demolishing temples in a small, out of the way community in Gaul and perhaps did not even wish to do so despite laws banning such activities.18

positive attitude towards the Church anyway and they may not have approved of Christian buildings being erected in their town centre; this situation may have ameliorated for the Church during the course of the fourth century as the aristocracy gradually converted. During this period the Christian leaders themselves may also have anticipated hostility to any attempt on their part to situate basilicas in central regions of a town and accordingly placed their churches into the town’s periphery where they would not cause offence to the pagan majority. The archetypal example of a Christian paying attention to pagan sensibilities in placing basilicas into a city is that of Constantine constructing the Lateran and St. Peter’s on the periphery of Rome while, within the centre of Rome, he restricted his expenditure on monumental architecture to the religiously neutral Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine, the baths of Constantine and his eponymous Arch which was erected by the senate.21 Finally, another ideological consideration behind the construction of churches on the periphery of the cities may have been that Christians wished to create their own topography that was not contaminated by the ‘world’ and owed nothing to it. It may have placed its structures into and emphasised those areas that were considered to be peripheral by the city at large, creating a specifically Christian topography within the town in opposition to the traditional topography of the classical city. It is likely that the Christian communities were not able to conceive of a substantially different concept of status from that of the pagan world.22

The fact that non-religious buildings were also turned into churches at sites where there were temples that could have been converted suggests that the conversion or replacement of sacred pagan religious space with a Christian one was not always the prime consideration of the Christian communities. The conversion of judicial basilicas was presumably popular, partly due to the fact that the shape of basilicas was particularly appropriate to Christian use. Basilicas allowed for assemblies with a focus at the apsidal end where the altar was located and from which a bishop or priest could dictate proceedings. There would also have been important ideological and religious overtones behind the adaptation of secular basilicas and the adoption of this building type for newly built Christian places of worship, which will be expanded on in Chapter 5.19 Some parts of baths were also converted into churches but given the negative connotations associated with baths and bathing this seems to be more an opportunistic use of a solid, un-used, structure rather than an ideological statement. The impact of Christianity upon the urban topography was, of course, not confined to the adaptation of earlier structures but also encompassed the construction of new churches within the city. Throughout the Empire cities had Christian structures built into and/or around them. When they first appear the churches seem to have been placed into peripheral areas of the town and it is important to ask why important Christian structures were placed into areas of, conventionally, lesser status. Practical and ideological factors will again have played their part. In terms of practicality if the centre was fully occupied by secular and pagan structures already, which would still have been in use in the early fourth century and later, it is likely that there would be no room for a church.20 It would also be the case that pagan dominated municipal authorities are unlikely to have had a particularly

At a later date, when space became available, there was often a translocation of the cathedral into the monumental centre of the Roman townscape. It may have been that by this later date conceptions of what conferred status upon a building had changed for the Christian community and centrality in the heart of the old urban centre had become the order of the day. Christians, after the fifth century, no longer seem to have associated the monumental or central area of a town or city with paganism and the pagan population was no longer strong enough to stop the seizure or purchase of such lands by the Christian community. Christians may also have wished to emphasise their victory over paganism by placing its churches into monumental centres of paganism; this was an expression of religious triumph in simple architectural terms. Alternatively the Christian community may have been demonstrating their dominance over the life of the town, the cathedral was placed into the centre, as Christianity was at the heart of many

whether laws were re-issued because of their ineffectiveness or because it was thought that new laws were more efficacious than old ones. Harries 1999, 82-3. 18 Indeed the CTh. XVI.10.16 (399 Arcadius and Honorius) commands that rural temples should be torn down. 19 See pages 110-116. 20 See 106-8.

21 22

20

Krautheimer 1980, 21-31; Curran 2000, 71-115. Loseby 1996, 61.

people’s lives. Finally, in terms of practicalities, the town centre was often surrounded by a wallcircuit and it was where the administrative buildings were generally situated, in a generally troubled era defence could be a crucial factor.

in particular Egypt or Syria. The importance of the monks is linked to their activities within neighbouring communities and as a repository of patronal power within an area or city. As has been mentioned above militant monks could have a devastating effect upon the urban landscape in their militancy by assaulting pagan processions, idols and temples in the East in a way that upper class monastic communities at Ligugé and Hippo usually did not; it would not be surprising that the Circumcellions and other Christian religious fanatics could have had the same effect in North Africa. Christianisation was then an Empire-wide process, admittedly with different effects in different cities, provinces, sub-regions and regions within the Empire. It was constructive and preservative as well as destructive and it clearly had long-term and substantial impacts upon the late Roman urban topography. How Christianisation proceeded in North Africa will be a major area for consideration in later chapters but it was not the only major process occurring throughout the Empire during the third, fourth and fifth-centuries.

Christianity was also responsible for another change in the structuring of attitudes to urban life. Towards the end of the period there was a change in the way in which the sacred boundary of the town was viewed. Roman law, even into the late fourth century, prohibited the burial of the dead within the city as this ritually polluted the living and the city.23 Under classical ideology the bodies of the dead were interred outside of the town whilst, for reasons of show and status, they tended to be buried as close to the major routes into the town as possible as this allowed people approaching the city to view the wealth of the illustrious dead in the tombs that had been created for them. However, among the Christian dead there was the special category of the saints that transgressed the spiritual barrier between living and dead and eventually came to transgress the physical boundary between living and dead and led to a general collapse of this frontier.

CONSTRUCTION OF WALL CIRCUITS The process whereby this occurred is relatively simple. Despite the re-invocation of the ancient laws against the burial of the dead within the city, saints were buried within churches intra muros by the time of Ambrose.24 Saints’ resting places had been favoured areas for burial for the community at large for a long time, in an attempt to get close to the hallowed body even after death, in the belief that this would help the deceased enter heaven.25 This had in itself made the cemetery churches foci of pilgrimage and burial from an early period but it also meant that when saints’ remains were moved into the interior of the towns, the bodies of the ‘lesser’ dead were bound to, and did eventually follow them creating a substantial shift in the attitudes and practices of late antiquity compared to the classical period.

Many cities demonstrate the construction of wall circuits in the late Empire. There may have been several reasons for this and they will be briefly discussed in this section but it also clear that they rose over very different towns in various parts of the Empire, that they had different impacts upon the cities and that they encompassed cities of very different sizes and vitalities. In the northern and western European provinces the late Roman walls generally encompassed much smaller areas than those built in the first and second-centuries AD had done, indeed even where cities had earlier wall circuits in this period new sets were often erected encircling smaller amounts of land. On the other hand city walls in the East of the Empire were often merely strengthened versions of Hellenistic or early Roman structures enclosing the same amount, or even more land, than they had when they were originally constructed. Even in Spain cities such as León, Zaragossa and Barcelona re-used earlier defences.26 Although there were differences between Europe and the eastern provinces this does not actually prevent the catalyst for the construction or maintenance of wall circuits throughout the Empire being a very small group of practical, psychological and ideological considerations.

In terms of the Christianisation of the city there may have been significant differences between regions due to the difference in size between the Christian populations but also because of the presence of large bodies of monks in the East and 23

This was true even as late as 26th February 386 when the law of the Theodosian Code, IX.17.7, was promulgated that banned the transfer of bodies from one site to another and a Novel of Valentinian III of the 13th March 447 legislated against such practices. See Bodel 2000, 128-151 and Lindsay 2000, 152-173. 24 Ambrose, Ep. 22.1-3. In 386 Ambrose arranged the translation of the bones of Sts. Gervasius and Protasius to the Catholic basilica in Milan from a cemetery. 25 Duval, Y. 1982, 698

26

21

Johnson 1983, 125 and 127-8.

The most obvious reason for building a set of walls is their defensive value. This has been seen as the prime reason behind the construction of defences throughout Gaul, Germany and northern Spain in the late Empire. It was part of the ‘Old Orthodoxy’, stemming from ideas developed in the aftermath of the Franco-Prussian war, that the late Roman defences were erected in the wake of the massive Germanic invasions of the 270s for purely protectionist purposes in case of further invasions. So the Gallic cities were mainly thought to have had their wall circuits constructed under the Gallic emperors and the Emperor Probus who was said in various writings to have restored the civitates of Gaul.27 However an approach based purely on historical sources is flawed, although many of the fortifications were built in the third century following the major invasions between 258 and 280, many were constructed in quieter periods in the fourth century.28 Even if archaeological evidence is used it is clear that the third century phase of construction was completed only in the tetrarchic era a quarter of a century or more after the start of the Germanic incursions. It is also clear that cities on the Aegean and Mediterranean coasts of Asia Minor, hundreds of miles from the Persian and Danubian borders, also demonstrate work upon their wall circuits.29 Defensive considerations cannot entirely explain the vast upswing in wall construction in the late Roman period but the problems of the era may have acted as a trigger to the construction of some circuits. That, in turn, created a fashion for walls leading to their spread to many cities across the Roman world.

walls together in a haphazard fashion, rather they carefully designed them so as to present an aura of sophistication to the world. In Gaul, for instance, St. Bertrand-de-Comminges with its straight stone courses, the small u-shaped patterns in the walls at Carcassonne and polychromatic designs on the towers and walls of Le Mans gave the walls a striking visual impact and demonstrate the pride of the benefactors in the construction of the walls admirably.31 The late antique city seems to have needed a set of walls to enhance its status and confirm that it was actually a city, and it seems that all selfrespecting cities in the European and eastern provinces had them. Wall circuits were a way of displaying status and wealth and in much of the Empire a settlement could not really be thought of as a proper city if it did not have its own wall circuit. Urban areas were defined as cities or towns by the presence of walls around them, as much as by the establishment of an episcopal seat there or by the presence of civitas or city magistrates. Pictorial and literary evidence demonstrate that cities, by the fourth century at least, had come to be identified as a settlement that was enclosed by a set of walls; for instance Procopius linked Ostia’s ‘decline’ to its lack of an effective wall circuit.32 The city walls of the late Roman period, might not be as indicative of status in the same way as those of the early Empire because of their ubiquity and, in the West their reduced scale, but they were monumental constructions in their own right of the same order as the fora, theatres and baths.33 Wall circuits in Europe often excluded many of the city’s earlier monuments and indicate that if the inhabited, late antique city was only that area that lay inside the walls then it had shrunk significantly. This was not true of the East where circuits were rarely contracted until the seventh century, probably because these cities tended to be thriving and even expanding in late antiquity. So there is a slightly different process occurring with the cities of the fourth and fifth century than had occurred in the first two centuries AD; later wall circuits had an element of practicality that many earlier walls did not have. Indeed the fact that these walls were actually built to be of use during a siege sometimes meant that even those

Johnson has rejected the idea that late Roman defences were indicative of status: ‘defences in the late Roman period were no longer symbolic either of the status of a town or of the pretensions to which it aspired’.30 This interpretation is based on the fact that there were many more cities with walls in the late Roman period than in the High Imperial era when the honour of erecting walls was restricted to colonies and few others. However, the supposition that defence was not the only motivation behind the construction of walls is supported by the fact that the builders, while often making use of earlier architectural elements and in particular tombs, did not put the

31 Esmonde Cleary, Jones and Wood 1998, 346-7; Johnson 1983, 38. 32 Procop., Goth., I.26.8. La Rocca 1992, 165 citing Cassiodorus, Variae, XII.15.5. Cassiodorus expresses surprise that the latter town did not have a wall-circuit despite having a flourishing economy. The cities depicted in the Notitia Dignitatum have walls as do most of the cities on the Madaba map. 33 Pietri 1983. Tours’ wall circuit only enclosed an area of around eight hectares part of which was created using the structure of the earlier amphitheatre. Johnson 1983, 116.

27

Zos., Nova Historia, I.67 and Julian, Caesares, 314B. Scriptores Historiae Augustae, Postumus, III.4 and Lollianus, V.4-6. Johnson 1983, 72-76. 28 For example at Dax where a coin of Magnentius (350-3) was (possibly) found in its stonework; Tours (mid to late fourth century material associated with wall construction); and Auxerre where a coin of Constantine was found in a mortar layer near the wall. 29 Foss 1996, 1-37; Foss 1996, 1-52; Foss 1996, 1-62. 30 Johnson 1983, 114.

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cities that had a set of defences constructed during the early Empire had totally new or partially reduced sets in the late period. In the provinces to the north and west of the Mediterranean walls must be considered to be a civic monument rather than an indication of the ‘decline’ of the classical city. They are a construction that was appropriate to the lives of the inhabitants of the cities of late antique Western Europe.

constructed, but their erection was no longer being commemorated in the age-old manner. PROCESSES IN THE EUROPEAN PROVINCES

WESTERN

Urban Shrinkage The Western European provinces seem to demonstrate a substantial quantitative decline in the inhabited urban area in the late Empire. Even if the inhabited area of towns was not solely within the areas encompassed by wall circuits, the abandonment of at least some areas outside the walls and the penetration of cemeteries into previously inhabited areas can be demonstrated at many sites throughout Gaul, Germany and Spain. While this is true this does not necessarily mean that the population of the cities had reduced in line with the reduction in occupied area. Existing housing within occupied zones may have been sub-divided or alternatively towns may now have had more new smaller, poorer habitations.36 Either solution would have offset the declining size of the cityscape with a greater density of occupation but it is likely that most cities in Western Europe did not house as large populations as they had done at their height in the second century. Despite this there were regions such as Britain that display continuity, and indeed growth, in their cities throughout the third century and the first half of the fourth.37

THE ‘EPIGRAPHIC HABIT’ Many of the Empire’s cities (or more specifically the people who commissioned the works) did not continue to erect inscriptions in order to promote themselves in the traditional manner during the late Roman Empire.34 This change was not just due to ‘decline’ in urban civilisation as both thriving and struggling cities exhibit a drop off in the number of inscriptions during the period. The loss of the epigraphic habit can be mainly attributed to a gradual change in fashion in the third and fourth centuries when the elite decided that, although it might be in their interest to erect or repair structures, it was no longer in their interest to commemorate these actions in epigraphic form. That the transformation in fashion was as profound in the East as in the West is surprising given the relative lack of changes to the cityscape in many of the urban centres of the Orient. It seems then that, just as many decurions throughout the Empire attempted to avoid performing curial duties, so they and their social superiors also abandoned the traditional means of self-glorification.35 This must be due to the diminishing status to be gleaned from the erection of an inscription, at least in comparison to that to be gained from the lavish attention paid to the rural domains of the elite, the construction of city walls, purchase of gold dinner sets, expenditure on mosaics at home or the provision of sumptuous meals for elite guests. Even in regions where the urban centres were continuing to flourish at least part of the population (namely the part that counted in terms of the erection of inscriptions) no longer viewed this milieu as a suitable arena for display. The use of epigraphy in the late Empire seems then to have been constrained by fashion rather than expense, as buildings were often still being

It used to be postulated that this process of reduction in city size was entirely a result of Germanic invasions with any destruction layer being connected directly to the breaching of the Rhine. More recent research has demonstrated that, on the contrary, there is a multiplicity of dates for this process. This suggests that, although some of the destruction could have been caused by the invasions, much is likely to have been due to the age old problems of fire in a society without modern fire-fighting services.38 In any case what caused the destruction or abandonment of regions of Western European cities is, in some ways, less important than why they were not re-occupied. Clearly the deaths of some of the population in either hostile or 36

There are many examples of poorer quality housing being placed on formerly public spaces throughout the Empire. Arles in the late fourth and early fifth centuries, whilst showing contraction from the richer suburbs, had small houses being built on the outsides of monumental buildings such as the circus. Loseby 1996, 52-4. 37 Esmonde Cleary 1989, 41-130. 38 At Arles for example various sites were abandoned between 250 and the end of the third century. The destruction is likely, in part, to be due to accidental firing. Sintes 1992, 143. Heijmans 2004, 23-31 argues against Sintes’ interpretation of the evidence and for the effect of barbarian invasion.

34 MacMullen 1988, 3-7. MacMullen’s study of the measures of ‘decline’ for a civilization is a salutary reminder of the pitfalls of taking the opinions of ancient authors or indeed archaeological evidence at face value. 35 CTh. XII.1. Many of the laws in this section of the code cover problems in specific cities or are replies to questions posed by particular officials but whose coverage was meant to be universal.

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accidental conflagrations would have reduced the population’s ability or indeed need to keep the former area of the city occupied. However another abandonment, where a catastrophe cannot be implicated, may have been simply due to the fact that the population of cities were not static. Although the potential for mobility was nowhere near as great as in a modern society it is clear from third and fourth century legislation that, even though emperors attempted to prevent the movement of people from various occupations such as bakers or coloni, many people were leaving their ‘stations’ for better opportunities elsewhere.39 Relocation from the cities could have been caused by various factors external or internal to the society. ‘Barbarian’ destruction could have caused some dislocation of the population but then people may have chosen not to move back to the damaged area due to better opportunities in terms of occupation, building material, or safety lying elsewhere. On the other hand the reason for a change in the circumstances of a specific city could lie within the immediate vicinity of the city, with these not affecting other cities within the region or even its closest neighbours. For instance the silting up of a harbour could have catastrophic implications for the economic vitality of that city, and therefore its population, but might have little effect beyond its immediate locality if there was another convenient neighbouring port available for the import and export of goods. There are various ways in which an individual city could find its space and population levels altered by specific events or developments as well as by regional or Empire-wide trends. The variety and complexity of the reasons for urban transformation will have to be considered when the specific circumstances of North African cities are examined.40

days and the continual focus on the saints as local heroes who were intercessors with God.41 This process could have quite a profound effect upon the layout of a town in the late period. Xanten, for example, demonstrates substantial settlement shift with the Roman town being gradually abandoned in favour of a smaller ‘town’ developing around a martyr church to its south. Such a drastic shift in urban structures might be exceptional but it is an example of a progressive change towards a new way of doing things using a new settlement structure that was useful for the population of Xanten. Finally the contraction of the urban landscape also led burial areas beyond the early Roman suburbs to contract towards, and then into, the original city area.42 This seems to indicate that there had been a change in attitude towards the sacred boundaries of the city. This can plausibly be linked to the Christianisation of society and the city discussed above.43 Public euergetism Whilst walls were being constructed in the late antique period it has been considered that the general disappearance of aristocratic euergetism and of the construction of other buildings was another element of the traditional view of late Roman urban ‘decline’. The lack of datable acts of euergetism may be linked to the general quantitative decline in the epigraphic habit described above, but the archaeology also leaves no doubt that public euergetism was, in most cases, no longer affordable or fashionable. In the late Roman Empire the only consistent euergetism seems to stem from the Imperial fisc or the governors of the provinces as the rulers sought to maintain the cities and their buildings in a suitable manner. The erection of traditional honours for the local elites also appears to have stopped as they decided to spend their money on other things than prominent statues in their city’s forum. Even when local elites constructed or reconstructed monuments in this period it often seems to be the case that they did so at the behest of the emperors or their representatives.

These population movements, coupled with the Christianisation of the city, would have had a profound effect upon the urban topography. One of these developments in the organisation of the townscape can be seen in the way in the appearance of bi-focality in some cities. As some cities contracted in the third century onwards, greater distances between the cemeteries and their churches and the inhabited town could appear leading to divisions in focus between the classical centre and the increasingly important centres of martyr cult. Ironically, at a time of urban contraction, it was this symptom of the ‘collapse’ of the Roman ideal that helped to maintain the abandoned areas of the town as part of the urban whole via processions on saints’

By way of a few examples of this process it is noticeable that at Tarraco the only construction 41

At Arles the Trinquetaille suburb was apparently abandoned from the late third century onwards. The presence there of the church of St. Genesius in its cemetery would have kept the suburb within the conceptual geography of the city for the population of Arles even if it were no longer within the occupied urban area. Loseby 1996, 59-60. 42 E.g. at Arles and Tarraco. At Tarraco the municipal forum was destroyed by fire a short time after the 360s, it was then used for occasional burials just as the early Christian extramural cemetery was coming into its own. Keay 1996, 59-60. 43 See page 17-21.

39

Laws such as the CTh.Book V.17.1, CJ, XI.51.1, 52.1,1 and 53.1. 40 Pages 69-77; Chapter 5.

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or restoration of the town’s monuments from the third century was at the instigation of the Emperor Elagabalus while in Gaul, at Arles and Trier, bath buildings were built and Trier received a palace under the auspices of the imperial house.44 Admittedly the latter two were imperial capitals, in the fourth and fifth centuries respectively, but the lack of any other works by local aristocrats is conspicuous when set against large building projects of the emperors. Even at the end of the fourth century Rome demonstrates some private euergetism but then Rome, as always, was a special case when it came to building projects and even there the major structures built during the third and fourth centuries were the Baths of Diocletian, the Basilica of Maxentius and Constantine and the Baths of Constantine.45 However, this should not be a surprise as the emperors had jealously guarded their prerogative to construct structures in the Eternal City, as an assertion of their traditional role as pater patriae, since the days of Augustus. This also applies to other imperial residences such as Trier and Arles.

Second, in part as a result of this loss of confidence in the emperors, and perhaps because of the realisation that contribution to municipal life no longer brought the status that it had done in earlier periods, there was a gradual and increasing emphasis on private rather than public demonstrations of wealth during the late Empire. The desire among the aristocracy to concentrate on their homes and villa retreats continued beyond the tetrarchy and the Constantinian dynasty to find its expression in the construction of magnificent villa complexes such as Piazza Armerina in Sicily, Valentine in Southern Gaul or the rural stronghold belonging to Sammac in Africa.46 It mattered more to the provincial and senatorial aristocracy to create a display of wealth to each other and select groups of clients than to the urban plebs. This need not be seen as a ‘flight to the countryside’ however. Lavishing wealth on rural domains such as that pictured on the famous mosaic from Tabarka in Africa did not mean that urban society had been or could be abandoned. As a centre of political and social gravity that held the attention of the elite even if they did not spend their money on improving the urban infrastructure.47 It was, after all, dangerous to absent yourself from the curia of your hometown as you might find yourself responsible for taxation or another financial burden if you did.

There are several possible reasons for this change. First, the profusion of usurpations and short-lived emperors throughout the third century may have irrevocably altered the attitudes of the provincial aristocracy to the person of the emperor. In a situation where the emperors changed so regularly, the expression of loyalty to the imperial system by the construction of ‘Roman monuments’ can no longer have been important. After all who would the aristocracy be expressing loyalty to beyond the nebulous and under threat concept of the ‘Empire’ rather than a specific emperor? It could be argued that these more or less continual usurpations were the result of the aristocracy of a particular area wanting their own emperor who could cater to their needs and be leant upon to grant favours. This is a possibility and it would certainly explain the phenomenon of the Gallic Empire, the success of Zenobia, or the elevation of Carausius in Britain but a regional aristocracy faced with usurpers from different regions and incapable of maintaining their own candidates on the throne for long would surely have become disenchanted with the systems that did not provide what they wanted; namely security, influence and status. The only response of an aristocracy faced with the removal of their own man or a lack of interest from the reigning emperor would have been to re-start the cycle and elevate their own emperor plunging the Empire back into chaos.

Even if decurions were not abandoning urban society there are suggestions in the law-codes and literary sources that they were attempting to escape the heavy burdens of municipal life. These documents show that laws were repeatedly issued throughout the fourth century in an attempt to prevent decurions moving into the clergy, the imperial bureaucracy or the military, without finding replacements to undertake their municipal duties. They probably also indicate that these laws were flagrantly ignored by those who could escape; the imperial hierarchy was incapable of halting this flow.48 It is important to note, however, that this ‘flight of the decurions’ also occurred in the East of the Empire and there the reduction in public euergetism was nowhere near as pronounced. As we shall see this was undoubtedly because of the greater vitality of urban life as a whole in the late Roman period in that region. A change in priorities Not only was there a drop-off in the amount of documented euergetism in the late Empire but there was also a realisation that the traditional building types were no longer appropriate to

44

46

45

47

Keay 1996, 18-44. Heijmans 2004, 157-160 Ward-Perkins, B. 1999, 233 and Krautheimer 1980, 35. La Rocca 1992, 161-180.

Février 1982b, 59. Wickham 2005, 603 48 Jones 1964, 740-6; Harries 1999, 83.

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fourth and fifth century life; in many ways this was linked to the rise of the new religion and its relationship to the activities of the Christian community has been dealt with above. In this period many buildings were despoiled for their stone and marble, unfortunately it is not a particularly well-documented process due to the fact that our literary sources were generally not interested in it. As was mentioned in the context of the preservation of the closed temples there is some evidence from Italy that the late Roman and Ostrogothic authorities did try to prevent this from occurring at Rome and other cities in the province but it is doubtful that this concern for un-used buildings persisted outside of the capital. Even in Rome the Senate could sanction the spoliation of previous constructions in order to produce the Arch of Constantine, which stressed Constantine’s greatness and fidelity to tradition.49 In creating new buildings and structures, older constructions and mausolea that were judged to be surplus to requirements to the needs of the fourth and fifth century populations were often destroyed and re-used in wall circuits, basilicas and churches. The number of instances of this are too numerous to catalogue here.50 This process has been seen as a degradation of classical tradition but it can be regarded in a positive light. Spoliation can be regarded as a process whereby structures that were useless to the population were made useful by their dismantlement and incorporation into new buildings. It may have been a paradigm shift in the attitudes of the urban population to their surroundings but it was more a transformation than degeneration in ideology or society.

contrary picture of urban development in the late Roman and early Byzantine periods can be gleaned from the archaeological and literary evidence with many regions of the East flourishing well after the destruction of the Western Roman Empire. There is still an ongoing debate as to whether this prosperity began to ebb before or only at the time of the Persian Wars in the early to mid-seventh century but this question does not impact upon the assessment of Eastern urbanism for the current work.51 Some developments into the sixth century will be mentioned here as, although they do not fit temporally with the examination of the African cities, they may provide some insight into urban development in the late antique world. It was the late Roman era when many cities in the East reached their greatest extent. These cities were often considerably different entities from those of the classical period and while many cities were thriving there were others that faced considerable problems in the third, fourth and fifth centuries. The nature of urban development differs from city to city during this period with a range of transformations occurring even within individual regions. At one end of the developmental scale there was the evolution of new towns from smaller settlements or totally new ex nihilio creations, presumably as a result of population increase or movement to make use of new resources or the trade networks that extended out from Constantinople. At the other end of the scale were those towns that merely saw some minor developments around their peripheries. There was also a range of sizes involved in these processes from the very small towns of the Negev desert and the limestone hills to the majesty and splendour of Constantinople.

PROCESSES IN THE EASTERN ROMAN PROVINCES

Some of the most obvious development occurred in cities and towns on the coasts of Asia Minor, in provinces such as Lycia and Pamphylia, where many settlements appear to have grown, supported by the sea that provided food and trade. These towns were relatively small in comparison to the grand old cities of the Aegean coasts such as Ephesus and Miletus and were of a rather different nature from these metropoleis. Many of these new and expanded settlements appear to have been thoroughly Christianised with the church being the most common late antique public building with warehouses being virtually the only other large constructions. At Dolichiste, for example, the entire eight-

Urban maintenance and transformation There were clear differences between the Western European and the oriental provinces during the course of the fourth and fifth centuries. As such the East will provide a useful alternative set of comparisons to those from the North-Western Mediterranean region and beyond. It must however be recognised that the East was an area even more massive and diverse than that of the European provinces and that these generalisations do not apply to every city or even province. While there were often dramatic changes in the size of cities in Western Europe in this period it should not be thought that this was the case throughout the entire Roman Empire. Quite a 49 50

51 Foss blames the Persian Wars for the eventual end of prosperity in Asia Minor although Liebescheutz believes that the evidence points to the flourishing of late antique Anatolian cities ending at least fifty years before the wars. Foss 1993, 1-37. Foss 1994, 1-52. Liebescheutz 2001, 43-54.

Ward-Perkins, B. 1984, 233. Johnson 1983, 33.

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kilometre long island was covered with late antique houses and churches.52 This type of expansion, based upon the house and the church, also appears to have occurred in other areas such as on the limestone hills in Northern Syria or the Negev desert where large villages (they were not officially cities) continued to flourish into the sixth century.53 This settlement pattern suggests certain things about the population of these cities; they were Christianised and living on the back of a flourishing economy. The absence of many non-Christian public buildings suggest that the inhabitants of these settlements had rather different priorities from their ancestors and even from some of those who lived in the larger, longer established cities in the same regions.

general stability (outside of the northern Balkans) in this period and continued wealth among its inhabitants allowed the elite to indulge their desire to maintain, alter and improve their cities to fulfil their and the populations needs and expectations. Some Eastern cities did suffer from difficulties in this period and even in regions such as Asia Minor, that generally seem to have done reasonably well in late antiquity, there were cities that were considerably reduced in size and vigour; even Pergamum, one of antiquity’s greatest cities had its monumental Hellenistic and Roman complex on the acropolis abandoned in the fourth century.55 Some suffered due to their association with pagan ritual. The Letoon settlement and complex of temples near Xanthos, for example, shows gradual abandonment following the advent of Christianity and was generally used as a quarry for the village established on its site rather than being destroyed for ideological reasons.56 It is unsurprising that such a settlement was deserted in the religious environment of the late fourth and early fifth centuries but others too had their own difficulties. Even in the inland areas of Lycia and Pamphylia where, as we have seen many coastal cities were thriving, some cities were struggling to maintain their buildings and urban integrity. The trade routes that benefited the coastal cities in these regions did not aid those inland but a schema of the coasts doing well and the interior suffering should not be extrapolated from one or two regions; inland cities as far apart as Aphrodisias and Bostra were still thriving.57 Further east from Pamphylia the problems that afflicted the fabric of the cities in Isauria seems to have been largely caused by the revolts and their suppression of the late fifth century.58

Larger, older, settlements also seem to have maintained their size and their monumental constructions during this period. Along the southern Mediterranean coast of Asia Minor in particular but also along the Levantine coast and inland into Southern Syria cities of pedigree and some size clearly retained key facets of their classical urban topography into the fourth and fifth centuries and beyond.54 Any number of cities could be taken to demonstrate this point and it is not particularly useful to list them here but in general it is fair to say that the populace continued to maintain and improve their domestic structures, entertainment facilities, bath houses and, as we have seen, their wall circuits. Clearly the populace of these cities felt that it was important to continue to protect elements of the classical heritage even as Christian structures began to alter the physical topography and the way that the city and its relationship to the supernatural powers were perceived. The differences between the two types of settlement described in these last two paragraphs are slightly artificial as there were numerous shades of size and development between Ephesus and Antioch at one end and Dolichiste at the other; however to suggest that both new and ancient settlements developed along the Mediterranean and Aegean coast at this time is relevant and key to what was occurring to urban civilisation in the East of the Empire. Given the range of settlements that were expanding in the East in this period and the scope of the building work undertaken there, it could perhaps be maintained that the continued strength of the Eastern cities led to a concomitant desire within their populations to erect or repair buildings for their own, and their settlement’s, glory. Perhaps more importantly the region’s

The cities in the Danubian provinces were also geographically in the east of the Empire but their development in the late Roman period has much in common with that of the Gallic or German provinces. Many cities in the region struggled during the third, fourth and fifth centuries not only to maintain their size but also to erect buildings that were not paid for by the imperial authorities. These difficulties were partly a consequence of the uncertainty and permeability of the trans-Danubian frontier but probably were also partly due to the problems that were general to the continental Western European provinces as described above.59 Without an urban structure

52

55

53

56

Foss 1994, 12-13. Foss 1995, 213-234; Foss 1994, 1-52; Foss 1993, 1-37; Foss 1996, 1-62; 54 Foss 1995, 213-234; Foss 1994, 1-52; Foss 1993, 1-37; Liebescheutz 2001, 54-62.

Liebescheutz 2001, 39. Foss 1996, 21. Foss 1994, 12-13. 57 Liebescheutz 2001, 36-37 and 54-62. 58 Liebescheutz 2001, 42. 59 Poulter 1992, 99-135.

27

certain that this would have affected the way in which different cities, provinces and regions responded to the challenges, demands and possibilities of the late Empire. The relative stability of the East certainly favoured the maintenance of trade networks during this period. The creation of Constantinople also benefited many cities throughout the Eastern Empire. The important grain route between Egypt and Constantinople on which other goods would have piggybacked were created in order to feed the populace of the new capital. The diversion of the grain route from Egypt to Rome strengthened the trade routes along the Levantine coast and around Asia Minor and the provinces along this route garnered revenue from the servicing of this trade.60 This process would have contributed to the prosperity of cities on the route, and possibly in the hinterland beyond the littoral, as the benefits of trade permeated beyond the ports. The trade routes between the Black Sea and the Mediterranean had always passed by Byzantium and would have probably been warped to service Constantinople more directly than its predecessor had ever needed and the growth in its status would have benefited cities along the networks more than ever. Rome or Constantinople, the wealth of trade on these systems would have benefited the ports on the route.

established for many hundreds of years, with a fragile economy and a far from substantial decurionate it is perhaps not surprising that under pressure from the Germanic tribes that repeatedly overran the area from the later fourth century onwards many struggled to maintain the extent of the urban area or its classical form and did not replace it with a substantial Christianised city. It is noticeable that those Danubian cities that did thrive in the late Roman period had support from the Imperial House or were linked into maritime trade routes across the Black Sea and south to Constantinople. This again evokes the wealth of the coastal cities of Asia Minor at this period and it may suggest a reason for the success of so many cities in the East surviving the transformation from the classical to the postRoman world so well. It will be important to consider the effect of the economy on the maintenance of urban frameworks in North Africa but the very local circumstances of cities will also have determined the fate of individual cities in the region; it is not enough to state that a region was doing well, during a detailed survey specific circumstances have to be examined as well. A site that demonstrates a total transformation of the urban landscape during the fourth century is, of course, Constantinople. There is no reason to go into great depth here about its construction as not even a large city like Carthage was directly comparable with the Eastern capital but it does demonstrate the way in which cities could be altered or developed in the late Empire, even if under unique circumstances, if there was enough (Imperial) will to make the changes. It may well be the case that there were cities in North Africa that benefited from Imperial largesse in the third, fourth and fifth centuries, even if to nowhere near the degree of the New Rome. In any case Lepcis and Carthage were provincial capitals with their own high Imperial functionaries who acted in place of the emperors. In those circumstances a different set of realities and motivations alter the fate of the city with organic change and development based on simple economics and the security of life being constrained and controlled by elements that had the power to override such petty considerations if it was deemed desirable or necessary.

The extent to which the interiors of these provinces would have benefited is open for debate. It is intrinsically possible that those individuals, rather than coastal communities as a whole, that did well from this continuing vitality may also have contributed to the economy of the interior as well. Some of the money and profit to be had on such trade routes was made by what could be termed corruption; namely officials creaming off a percentage of the goods or profits that were to be had.61 As these people were usually local or provincial aristocrats it is inherently possible that this money was then used to beautify their villas or build churches in the hinterland of the city or in areas further removed from the coast. Expenditure of money in these areas and the money that trade routes brought into the coastal cities would have stimulated local economies, as this would have helped to create a demand for other goods from the interior of the provinces. Certainly the specific event of the creation of Constantinople would have altered the economics of a much larger region demonstrating

Vitality of trade routes A brief perusal of the historical evidence for the third, fourth and fifth centuries clearly demonstrate that the Eastern half of the Empire, with the exception of the Danubian and Balkan provinces was significantly less troubled by the great invasions than was that of the West. It is

60 Cf. Foss 1996, 20-21 and 25; Foss 1996, 18-19, 24, 29 and 48. Some fifth and sixth century coastal settlements, such as Dolichiste, seem to be entirely built upon trade and fishing. 61 MacMullen 1988, 122-137.

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the vagaries of the ancient trade system but also the way in which particular powerful individuals could have a profound effect upon the world around them. There are a few analogous examples to the changes that Constantine wrought through the construction of Constantinople; the Imperial capitals of Nicomedia and Antioch in the East and Trier in the West all demonstrate, in a less extreme fashion than Constantinople, the effect that emperors could have on a city and its infrastructure. The continued vitality of the trade networks in the Eastern Mediterranean, and indeed from the East to the West, was surely one of the reasons behind the continued wealth of many of the Eastern cities in the period under consideration.

CONCLUSION Perhaps the most important aspect to note from this chapter is the range of reactions in the urban landscape to the challenges created by the difficulties of the third, fourth and fifth centuries and to continued prosperity in some parts of the Empire. As this is the case it would be foolish to presume that there will be one single model that can be created that will apply to all of the cities of North Africa. Some of the region’s cities may have flourished, others floundered and others stagnated. It is important to note that there are many measures that can be used to judge the progress, or otherwise, of the urban topography. A city that channelled all of its resources into the construction of churches may be said to be progressing or displaying dynamism in its relationship towards the new spiritual and temporal realities but in doing so it may have seriously neglected facets of the classical urban landscape, which its inhabitants may now have regarded as surplus to requirements. In order to examine how the processes detailed above apply to North Africa it will be necessary to examine some of its cities in a series of case studies, this will allow trends and Africa wide developments as well as specific city or provincial developments to be examined thoroughly in Chapter 5.

The Eastern Empire produces a series of possible models for the fate of the urban topography in this period with the transformation, maintenance or collapse of the individual city framework being heavily dependent upon a range of factors including Imperial preference, economic growth, internal stability and the security and proximity of the nearest frontier. Taking into account the examination of the fate of the cityscape in the Western European provinces there are numerous examples and frameworks that can provide comparative material for the transformations occurring in the North African city in the late Roman period in order to better understand the developments within the urban topography.

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CHAPTER 4 CASE STUDIES

WAYS OF STUDIES

EXAMINING

THE

continuation of traditional euergetism; the construction of Christian basilicas and other places of worship; the erection of wall-circuits; the persistence of municipal offices into the late period; the decline or growth in the population and the spoliation or destruction of earlier monuments. An examination of these features allows conclusions to be drawn as to whether the North African cities were developing along a different path from the cities in the East and those of the northwestern provinces. A key facet of North African society, and one that differentiates it from the rest of the Empire, is the presence of a dynamic and powerful Church in the form of Donatism in addition to part of the Empire-wide Catholic Church. How this major split within North African Christianity affected the progress of urban developments relating to Christianity will be an important issue for this chapter and the next. As the two churches had their own different philosophies about the nature of the relationship between the Church and the World and that between each other it is possible that they may have had differing ideas about how their buildings should relate to the city. It is clear that when it suited the Donatists their rhetoric could be vibrantly anti-imperial and antiauthoritarian in character but whether the opposition to the persecuting society was carried through to its logical conclusion with their churches built in opposition to the cities, the most obvious manifestations of Roman civilisation, remains to be seen and will be discussed following the case studies.1 What will certainly be the case is that the placing of Catholic and Donatist basilicas in the towns and cities of North Africa will have been determined by several factors such as ideology; the activities of the opposing sect; the availability of space within the urban area; and the extent to which the city maintained its vitality.

CASE

The case studies will be the key part of this book as they will provide profiles of a variety of North African cities during the late Empire and will also be invaluable in the more general discussion of the transformations within the North African cityscape in the following chapter. Several of the cities to be considered have Catholic or Donatist remains in a reasonably well-studied city with an accurately produced plan, which is important for examining how the implantation of Christian buildings into a city affected its existing fabric. Others have epigraphical texts that detail euergetistic acts or the continuance of municipal offices, while others show, in their archaeological remains, the development of the late antique cityscape. These may allow us to come to some conclusions concerning the way in which the two Churches impacted upon the urban topography and general trends of urban development in the North African cities. Before examining the case studies it is necessary to briefly address how to approach the study of urban development but also how churches are defined as being either Donatist or Catholic. It is important to examine here all of the evidence for the urban area and developments within it during the late fourth/early fifth century horizon. Literary works, inscriptions and archaeological material are all useful areas for consideration but of course are subject to the vagaries of the respective types of evidence detailed in the introduction. For the purposes of this chapter the main difficulty is that even where all remains have been excavated and recorded thoroughly there are often problems in establishing secure dates; there are a few dedications on public buildings but often no studies of the pottery, mosaics and plans to give dates for the majority of the remains. This leads to problems of assessing the developments of a city, in particular urban expansion, and placing the construction of new buildings, especially churches, into their proper context.

1

Internally the Donatist Church seems to have been authoritarian with dissenters such as Tyconius being removed from communion. However, the frequent schisms and violence within the Donatist Church reflect a strong antiauthoritarian streak. This, and the desire for theological and moral purity, led to repeated splits in the Church demonstrating the inability of the Donatists to compromise with internal or external opponents. Cf. Chapter 2: Religious Controversy.

The archaeological, epigraphical and literary material will, at least, provide information on the

30

Before embarking on an examination of individual cities it is important to analyse the structure of towns and the way that they are composed in the ancient world and how we define churches as being either Catholic or Donatist. Modern preconceptions about suburbs and inner cities may not be useful when examining Roman urban layouts. The standard modern organisation of towns with different zones radiating out from a central shopping and administration area, with inner city housing and manufacturing around that centre, more affluent housing in the suburbs and heavier industry beyond that, may not be applicable in our study area and period. There are several examples of cities that have been studied in detail from the Roman period that can provide comparative material for the study of the North African cities in the way that they develop over time. Perhaps the most important detailed analysis of a town from the Roman period could be considered to be that on Pompeii but other well-known examples such as Ostia, Cosa and Dura-Europos can contribute to this study.2 The results that these produce will need to be considered as comprehensive examinations of a Roman urban area. Of course as the comparative examples quoted were either not late Roman townscapes, were located in different geographic or sociological constructs or had different evolutions the results may not be directly applicable but will still be important to consider. What makes other examples important are not the conclusions that can be drawn from them but rather the methodologies that have been applied to reach these conclusions. It is these methods of examining Roman towns that can contribute to the study of late Roman North African cities.

development of the city, what buildings it contained, and what services it provided. There were other types of city that would have developed differently. Tipasa, Theveste, Sabratha, Thuburbo and Lepcis were originally Phoenician/Punic or native foundations. Even cities such as Thamugadi or Sufetula expanded and developed in a seemingly haphazard fashion. In these cases, although the initial city was set out on an orthogonal plan, there was considerable later development around it as the original structure of the city broke down perhaps because later monuments were too big or oddly-shaped to fit into the insula pattern or because the concept of an ordered street plan was not as important to the inhabitants of the African cities as it had been to the Roman engineers and their masters who ordered their creation. Indeed when we examine a city that had developed out of a native foundation such as Thuburbo Maius the city’s layout is far more organic and ‘disordered’, as such it cannot be regarded as much of a surprise that once the Roman town-planners had left the African population reverted to developing the cities along traditional lines. The analysis of Laurence of the structure of Pompeii has shown that, unsurprisingly, there was a considerable difference between how modern, Western cities and towns are organised and how this Campanian town was structured.4 At Pompeii, as in a modern town the city did cluster around its central business district, made up of the forum, its associated buildings and the streets that radiated from it to the city gates. Of course the city also included several public monuments, many of which were concentrated around or near the forum but others, including temples, the theatres and the amphitheatre, were dispersed throughout the entire urban area. It is possible to look at these monuments as reflecting the attitudes of several different entities. First they can be said to reflect the social structure of the town with monuments and buildings being used to reaffirm how society was ordered in that location. Second and perhaps more importantly, monuments demonstrate the personal aspirations of the people who had them erected and who attended them. In erecting a building a Roman aristocrat was demonstrating his love of his patria and his affection for its people but was also demonstrating his wealth and importance to the towns inhabitants generally, whose support he might need in election to magistracies, but in particular to members of his own class with whom he was in constant competition. A monument would also speak to, even it was not actually directed at, visitors to the town as they

It is necessary here to remark on the different origins of many of the cities that are under consideration as these beginnings impinged on the development of these urban areas. Some cities, such as Carthage, Sufetula, Ammaedara, Thamugadi and Cuicul, were creations of the Roman era as they were founded under emperors such as Nerva and Trajan, and had veterans as the core of the population.3 Carthage had been a Phoenician city but had been destroyed at the end of the third Punic War and was re-built on Roman principles as a Roman colonia on a strict gridiron street plan in the Julian/Augustan period. These cities were bounded by wall-circuits that necessarily limited and changed the way in which the cities developed while the fact that these cities were at least partly populated by veterans to begin with would have had some effect on the 2 Laurence 1996; Zanker 1998; Meiggs 1960; Fentress 2000, 14-20; Welles 1967; Brown, F. E. 1980. 3 Février 1964, 651-697. Lepelley 1981, 444-445.

4

31

Laurence 1996, 12-19.

would be able to see that the town they were in was ‘Roman’, cultured and wealthy but also who the principal men or families of the town were. Third, the monuments of a town could also be said to reflect the civic aspirations of the population generally or the elite more specifically as they present the way that they wished their town to be seen by outsiders. However, as the monuments were put up by individuals, it seems more likely that they actually reflect the individual aspirations of those who had them erected than the town as a whole.

generally placed at the edge of the urban environment or in slum areas due to the olfactory drawbacks of some of their ingredients, or the potential for disaster caused by their use of fire, may provide a marker for those areas that were generally avoided by all but the poorest members of society. Furthermore the distribution of businesses throughout a city may also provide a model for the way in which churches are distributed throughout a city. At Pompeii for instance there are definitely concentrations of businesses in different parts of the city. Bakeries are generally on through-routes with those without mills being in the central area and workshops as a whole tended to avoid the residential Regio 6 and 8.7 Although these examples show that no strictly defined locality can be considered to be a business district, the tendency of businesses to avoid certain areas or to cling to other areas demonstrates that there were areas deemed suitable for different occupations in a Roman town. It will be interesting to analyse whether churches are distributed randomly throughout the urban area in North Africa or whether they too cling to certain localities.

Given the discussion above it may be that in some cases the basilicas of the Church need to be examined in the same way as other structures; so as buildings demonstrating a community’s status or a physical manifestation of that status, as well as structures fulfilling the spiritual needs of the congregations. Changes to this monumental, central area in late antiquity due to Christianisation, abandonment of buildings, spoliation, new monumental construction or the construction of housing over it will be important indicators of alterations in the attitudes of the urban population with regard to their city or town. In particular, evidence of the abandonment of shops or factories within this area, or anywhere else within the town for that matter, would be interesting as this might indicate a decline in the economic vitality of the town.

In Roman society there were establishments that were considered to be socially taboo, these buildings had their own distribution patterns; the brothels, for example, were placed to the east of the forum and in Regio 9 in Pompeii.8 These morally corrupt establishments were often placed in side streets and streets with no entrances to the large atrium houses; although they could be structurally near or part of the houses of the rich, the rich did not have to walk past a brothel to get into their house.9 The presence of churches within morally suspect areas would lead to interesting questions as to what the Christian sect responsible was doing. If such structures turn up in such socially marginal areas it could either be because of ideology or a lack of available space elsewhere. In terms of ideology it may be that the sect could be identifying itself with saving the poor and sinners as Christ had done. However, we should not necessarily expect this see this on the ground. The Donatists may have wished to have identified themselves with the destitute as there is some indication from what remains of their writings that they regarded the poor as blessed, although they did not just appeal to this social group, but a Church of the Pure is unlikely to have wished to be seen consorting with the

It is also important to remember that towns are not just monolithic entities; they often have their own smaller, discrete localities within them. Laurence suggests that, at Pompeii, the street shrines and fountains show the discrete neighbourhoods or vici of a town.5 The fountains, obstructing passage in the streets, were not just about the provision of water but also were to do with local identity. He suggests that the vici were based on population rather than spatial size and that the density of fountains or street shrines reflect the density of people. The positioning of churches or even secular monuments or buildings may reflect the servicing of local areas within a city, they may not be placed in a monumental zone, a poor or a rich area but serving a neighbourhood, which had been previously defined. Certainly Carthage had specific ecclesiastical regions by the late fourth century, in imitation of Rome.6 The presence of industrial structures could help demonstrate that churches were placed into socially marginal areas if these businesses were also, as a matter of course, placed into such areas. Those manufacturing processes that were 5 6

7

Laurence 1996, 55-67. Laurence 1996, 71-87. Bars were also considered to be establishments with the taint of immorality and even sedition by both pagan and Christian elites and series of laws confirm the moral marginality of prostitutes, pimps and even bar workers. Cf. Hermansen 1981, 196-203. McGinn 1998 9 Laurence 1996, 75-87. 8

Laurence 1996, 36-50. Frend 1977, 21-40.

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morally suspect.10 Likewise the Catholic Church neither appears to have made a specific appeal to either the ‘morally corrupt’ or towards the poor more generally, beyond the use of acrostic psalms and the use of Punic-speaking clergy. It would be surprising then if it sited some of its churches in locations specifically to cater for such people, but this may in part be because of the nature of our sources.

between elite and non-elite areas the evidence of Rome would suggest that the very rich would not live in slum areas during the Imperial period. On the other hand it is also clear from examples such as Cosa that the hierarchical nature of society could be hard-wired into the physical structure of the town. At this Republican foundation some houses built at the city’s inception were on a larger scale and in a more prominent position than other dwelling-places, reflecting the differences in social standing of the colonists.12 More than one model could be used in order to approach the way that elite and non-elite space could be structured at different sites. In all cases the circumstances of foundation and evolution are key. For instance Pompeii was an ‘organic’ native development that later came to have Roman settlers inserted into an already well established urban environment while Cosa was created as a Roman colony ex nihilo with Roman presumptions about social differentiation explicit within the bricks and mortar of the town as well as in the social relationships of its inhabitants. The fact that there are different models that can be used for cities with different origins provides interesting comparative material for the cities of North Africa. However it also means that to establish the sort of area that a Christian basilica was placed into may be problematic and will obviously relate to the specific structure and development of the city under consideration as well as the nature of the archaeological excavation.

It is theoretically possible that Christian basilicas were situated in socially and geographically marginal areas because the Christians themselves were, originally, a socially marginal group but it seems unlikely to have been the case in most cities. The evidence of the case studies will be assessed in Chapter 5 to see whether there are is any evidence of this. By the late fourth/early fifth centuries the Church had gathered significant power and prestige to itself and could be presumed to be able to place its structures in whatever regions it wanted. However, some cities in North Africa were clearly pagan dominated and their elites and general population may have opposed Christian construction in central areas. In Chapter 5 the extent to which the Church would have wished to dominate central areas will be discussed but it is clear that there are multiple factors to take into account when examining where the Christian Church placed its churches. In modern cities there is a tendency for more affluent houses to be located together, either in suburbs or in groups within the city separated from the less salubrious accommodation, this was not always the case in the ancient world. In the Roman Empire the houses of the elite were not always separated from those of the less privileged by being placed in a suburb or around the monumental area. At Pompeii, for instance, there was no spatial division between the elite and the poor, instead the rich protected themselves from having to expose themselves to the poor by having houses that centred on an internal courtyard with very small windows, if any at all, on the ground floor.11 Away from Pompeii we can tell the difference between the houses of the rich and those of the poor, what we cannot always do is define one region of a town as being an area for the rich and another as being an area for the poor. Of course the extent to which these decisions can be made depend largely on the city under consideration. While Pompeii does not demonstrate separation

The city structure can be analysed through the relationship of its different elements and how its inhabitants may have experienced life in, and movement through, the city. MacDonald’s work on the armatures and foci of the Roman city points to the way in which movement through the city could be channelled by the architectural structure.13 Alternatively Lynch’s seminal work on the cities of the 1950s US points to different ways in which elements of the city’s built environment and space related to each other, and how the population perceived them.14 Lynch’s urban structure comprised of: paths, edges, nodes, landmarks and districts, suggests ways in which the city could be organised in order to channel movement and to enrich the experience of the city for residents and visitors alike. These approaches contribute to an understanding of the cityscape, the interaction between its elements and the effect of the built environment on the population who moved through it. When examining the positioning of the Christian churches and other late Roman elements in the

10 Still, Augustine informs us that the Donatist bishop Cyprian of Thubursicum Bure was caught in a brothel with a woman. Whether he was merely ministering to her spiritual needs is unclear. August. c. litt. Pet., III.34.40. 11 Laurence 1996, 75 and Scobie 1986, 399-443.

12

Fentress 2000, 14-20. MacDonald 1982; MacDonald 1986. 14 Lynch 1960: 46-83 13

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case studies such concepts will be important as a way of engaging with the effect that radically altering the physical environment could have on its inhabitants.

martyr cult within or adjoining them; those basilicas which may form part of a Christian quarter; and finally those identified by comparison of inscriptions within them and historical documents, or on the basis of historical documents themselves. Before commencing this short critique of the different methods, it is necessary to say what is meant when the excavator or historian declares a church to have been a Donatist or Catholic structure. Clearly it is impossible for one inscription or the decoration of the church to show the alignment of the basilica throughout its lifespan. Basilicas often changed hands during the fourth and fifth centuries. The Theoprepia at Carthage fell into the hands of the schismatics soon after the outbreak of the schism and may have remained that way until the confiscation of Donatist basilicas in the aftermath of the Council of Carthage in 411, while in 317 two or three Donatist Basilicas at Carthage were confiscated.17 The congregation in another Donatist basilica was also allegedly slaughtered but the basilica was not taken.18 It is impossible to say with any degree of accuracy what happened to them in the course of the fourth century as there were alternating Catholic and Donatist periods of ascendancy when the basilica may have changed hands. Constant squabbling between Catholics and Donatists, as well as the splinter sects of the Maximianists and Rogatists, led to basilicas frequently changing hands whether by the force of the Circumcellions or the due processes of the law.19 Such a confusing picture means that whatever method of identification the historian uses, the basilica can only be said to have been Donatist or Catholic at the time when an identifying inscription or decorative style was placed within the basilica.

Examining the state of the housing, and in particular the alterations and additions to it, during the late period in any city might provide information about the wealth of that city and the continuance of urban life. Evidence such as the installation of new mosaics might well provide this sort of detail, beyond showing the private wealth of individuals or families it would also suggest the persistence of either a local school of mosaic-makers or access to a wider range of provincial or diocesan services.15 The dating of houses may also allow us to show the development of the urban area with its expansions and contractions. The construction of both churches and secular monuments would also indicate the continued wealth of the community and the will to create new practical or beautifying constructions to improve the city and the lives of the community. The elements discussed above will all have to be born in mind by the population at large when examining the actual cities that make up the case studies. DEFINING SECTARIAN CHURCHES One aspect of research into North Africa’s ‘archéologie chrétienne’ has been an attempt to differentiate between Catholic and Donatist basilicas in African cities and villages. This work has not been tied to an examination of urban topography and the location of the churches within it, although individual churches in the case studies have been marked out as being either Catholic or Donatist. It is important to very briefly examine methodologies by which this has been done, as whether we can actually define Catholic and Donatist churches will have an impact on the study of urban developments in North Africa. Monceaux’s Histoire Littéraire de l'Afrique Chrétienne is a key text in this examination as it was he who first set out some of the criteria but Delehaye’s review of Monceaux’s earlier work is also important.16

‘Negative’ identification of Catholic or Donatist churches occurs when a church of one sect or another, has been discovered at a city. This discovery has led scholars to suggest that the only other large church near the city centre or with a baptistery is the opposing sect’s cathedral or principal church. This method makes several assumptions about the city and given the frequent lack of reliable dating evidence is an extremely dangerous way of assigning sect; it will not be used in this book. It has been the fate of the Northwestern Monastery at Thamugadi and

The methods that historians and epigraphers have employed to define the sectarian leanings of a particular church break down into five types: those basilicas identified through their epigraphic texts; those attributed to a sect through the art style within them; those with certain types of

17 Monceaux 1912, 140; Courcelle 1912, 35; and Ennabli 1997, 20 Also Optatus, App. X, this shows the failure of the authorities to regain the Constantinian basilica at CirtaConstantine back from the Donatists who had seized it. Cf. August. Ep. 185.18.29, Euseb., HE., V.15. 18 Sermo de passione sanctorum Donati et Advocati 6-8. 19 August. Ep. 29 and c. Cresc. IV.4.4

15 While that is the case the comments about the fallibility of archaeological evidence, made in Chapter 1, must be born in mind. 16 Monceaux 1912, 438-480; Delehaye 1910, 467-8.

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Basilica III at Sufetula that such identification has been used on them in the past.20

suffering; appeals to ‘sanctity’ and ‘purity’; and finally separation from the world. The first two of these concepts are thought to indicate a Catholic Church; ‘Catholicism’, martyrdom and suffering might indicate either Church depending on the date of the inscription, where it was located and the political situation of that time and place; and the final two concepts are suggestive of Donatist ideology. On the whole these terms are far too difficult to pin down to allocate a sect to a particular church solely on the evidence of one of these concepts. For instance, attempts to create unity within the North African Church or within the Church as a whole can be attributed to either sect even if it seems more likely that the Catholics would have used this ideology, while both sides reverenced the martyrs and suffered at the hands of their enemies at different times in the fourth century.24 As this is the case it seems unhelpful to employ these terms to demonstrate the ownership of a basilica by one sect unless there is supporting evidence.

In terms of more positive methods of identification it is possible to view some groups of inscriptions as being diagnostic of Catholic or Donatist basilicas. These inscriptions are those that contain the war cries of the sects, identified by Augustine as deo laudes for the Donatists and deo gratias for the Catholics.21 Theoretically if these terms were widely used by the two sides, as Augustine appears to imply they were, it would be difficult to conceive of the opposing sect using the terminology of its enemy within its sacred sites and many authors have used the inscriptions in this way. Many inscriptions from central Numidia and Tripolitania have been found that preserve one or other of these war cries but none of these sites, which are generally rural, feature in the case studies.22 Delehaye disagrees with this use of the deo gratias and deo laudes inscriptions and demonstrated almost a century ago that there may be problems with this thesis. 23 Augustine in The City of God records that his congregation, after the occurrence of a miracle at Hippo, shouted out ‘deo gratias, deo laudes’ without commentating that this was an unexpected or unusual statement (Augustine, The City of God, XXII.8). This apparent paradox could be reconciled by the fact that there was religious ‘acculturation’ between the two communities and also by the observation that this was a non-sectarian moment. In such circumstances perhaps this statement could be made as a spontaneous cry of faith without it having the Donatist overtones that a war cry or deliberate inscription could have. It is then possible to argue for deo gratias and deo laudes definitely demonstrating the sect of a church despite Delehaye’s reservations but it cannot be viewed as a definite and exclusive link between a term and a Christian sect.

There are occasions when an examination of specific martyria and their inscriptions can demonstrate the sect of their occupants. For example, that of Marculus at Ksar-el-Kelb is almost certainly the burial place of the Donatist bishop lauded in the Passion of Marculus and in the Donatist Church at Ain Ghorab a fenestella confessionis was found for giving access to a martyr’s tomb.25 A further example in North Africa was explicitly Donatist in origin; Robba, the sister of the Donatist bishop Honoratus, who had died in AD 434 at the hands of Catholics, had her tomb in the church of Ala Miliaria (Benian).26 There are few such examples of clear-cut allegiances, and in the main it is impossible to label the mass of martyr churches throughout Africa as being either Donatist or Catholic. Only those that are found with other corroborative evidence can be assigned to a particular sect. Frend has created a specific argument for the memoriae apostolorum of Paul and Peter in North Africa being Donatist in origin.27 His arguments are not particularly persuasive as they rely too heavily on unknowns such as Donatist attitudes to the two apostles and his thesis is undermined by the fact that many of

There are several ideologies that appear in church inscriptions that Monceaux and Frend considered demonstrated an affiliation to one sect or another. These ideologies are those of: ‘unity’; ‘peace’; ‘Catholicism’; motifs of martyrdom and 20

24 ‘Unity’: August., Serm., 252, Ep. 49, 52, 93, c. litt. Pet., II.109.247. Cf. Optatus, II.3.4 for Catholic appeals to Church unity and the Sermo de passione sanctorum Donati et Advocati, 3 for criticisms of Catholic appeals to unity (“Christ”, he (the Devil) said, “is the lover of unity”). However the Donatists had a skill for making hypocritical statements and Donatus, after the death of Caecilian, and Parmenian both seem to have attempted to establish Church unity on their own terms. Frend 1952, 177 and 237. 25 Leschi 1936, 33. 26 Gsell 1901, Vol. 2. 175-9. 27 Frend 1940, 32-49. For a persuasive argument against this identification see Février 1966b, 9-10.

Duval 1989, 345-399. August. Ep. 108.5.14. 22 Examples of deo laudes in Numidia: Henchir Bou Said on a pilaster; at Ksar-el-Kelb in conjunction to a memoria to the Donatist martyr Marculus; at Bir es-Sed, where a lintel had deo laudes dicamus inscribed on it. In Tripolitania, at Henchir Taglissi, a fortified building had religious texts and deo laudes inscribed on its lintels. Cf. Monceaux 1912, 441; Courcelle 1936, 166-197; Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 39-43; Leschi 1936, 31-32. Examples of deo gratias: Bagai, Sillegue, Dalaa and Ain Mtirschu. Monceaux 1912, 442. 23 Monceaux 1910, 467-8. 21

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the memoriae come from regions that Frend himself believes were dominated by the Catholics. Indeed, Février also makes the point that the greater concentration in Numidia (seven out of eighteen memoriae apostolorum are found there) is probably due to proportionally more excavation being undertaken there than in other regions and the better preservation of the remains found due to a lack of continuous occupation on many of those sites.28

A new method of approaching the question may be to examine the positioning of the churches on the site plans of a city. Considering the rhetoric of separation that the Donatists employed in their dealings with the Catholics and the world it would come as no surprise if they went further than rhetoric and physically split themselves away from the rest of North African society.33 It could be hypothesised that churches and Christian quarters that were separated from the rest of the city in North Africa were Donatist, this hypothesis would be supported by the evidence provided by Thamugadi where the ‘Donatist’ Cathedral was indeed some distance from the original colony and related structures.34 So, using this method, it could be hypothesised that the martyr enclosure outside of the walls at Tipasa, with its emphasis on the honoured dead, could be a Donatist church.35 It is true that those basilicas that have been identified as Catholic are principally in the centre of cities, for instance the complex I and II at Sufetula and Basilica I at Ammaedara were in the city centre, although of course that suggested as the Catholic Cathedral at Thamugadi was outside of the original city.36 However, apart from the church at Thamugadi, no other church that can be definitively labelled Donatist can be said to exist in its own quarter in North Africa. So while the rhetoric in the sources suggests that this would be a possible way of defining the sources there are not enough examples on which to judge it.

Combining literary evidence with archaeological remains has led to some basilicas becoming attributed to a sect, several of these will appear in the case studies. Comparing the names of bishops found in a site’s epigraphy with those known from written evidence to have had their see there has been a particularly popular method of doing this. Thus the ‘Donatist Cathedral’ at Thamugadi is described as such because of a reference to an Optatus ordering the laying of a mosaic in the complex. The only bishop Optatus at Thamugadi that we know of was Donatist, so historians feel justified in labelling it as a Donatist establishment.29 In this case this is probably a valid assumption as it is unlikely, although by no means impossible, that there were two bishops of the city with the name in the late fourth century. Certainly Optatus presided over vast meetings of his supporters and allies in his church suggesting a large building like the ‘Donatist Cathedral’ at Thamugadi.30 However, some attempts to use the historical evidence to shed light on an excavated Church are dubious. For instance, Frend states that the large basilica at Theveste: ‘may well have been the scene of the Donatist triumph’, with little evidence to substantiate this.31 The only potential evidence that it was even a Donatist Church is if an epitaph in the atrium, Laudes in excelsis, is taken as being a variant of Deo Laudes.32 As such it could demonstrate that a Donatist was buried there, albeit baring in mind the reservations expressed above, but not necessarily that it was a Donatist church. Additionally even it were a Donatist church at some stage of its existence, this need not have been a long occupation nor does it indicate that it was a Donatist Church in the 380s. So, great care must be used when amalgamating literary and archaeological evidence to make certain that the latter is not manipulated to fit with the former.

The final method of attributing a sect to a particular basilica may be to examine its interior decoration and architecture. The evidence for this has already largely been dealt with and need not be reiterated here beyond stating that it seems clear that as native did not necessarily equal Donatist, and ‘native’ art styles from within and beyond the Empire were in fashion during the later Empire, it seems unlikely that these art styles can be used to demonstrate a church as being Donatist. These then are the various ways of defining the sect that built a basilica, each of them has its own problems associated with it, but while some methods are fairly reliable and provide a secure process of identification others are based on hypotheses that can quickly become untenable. It 33

Sermo de Passione Donati is a tractate against the secular authorities. Optatus, III.3 shows that Donatus’ attitude was insular when it suited him. Petilian justifies separation as the Catholics are the sons of Macarius and they pollute the rite of baptism and Augustine states that Faustinus, Donatist Bishop of Hippo, led a boycott of the Catholics, c. litt. Pet., II.39.924; II.89.184. 34 See figure 15. 35 See figures 18. 36 See figures 3, 10 and 15.

28

Fevrier 1966b, 14-15. Albertini 1939, 100-101. It reads haec iubente sacerdote dei optatus peregi – “I have accomplished this work on the order of the bishop of God Optatus” according to Albertini’s reading of the text. 30 August. c. ep. Parm. II.3.7 31 Frend 1952, 190. 32 Monceaux 1912, 478. 29

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is important that the better methods of attributing sect to a basilica, which are described above, are used as any research work and conclusions based upon identification methods will not be worthwhile if the processes used to give the results are of doubtful value. It seems that the evidence of the war cries can be best trusted when searching for Donatist and Catholic basilicas as, despite the problems with the evidence detailed above, it seems unlikely that either sect would have wished to place the rallying call of the opposition in their church. Multiple semi-diagnostic inscriptions or other identifying features would make classification of a church’s sect more secure than a single deo laudes scratched onto a column.

century onwards. Of course the excavations vary widely in the quality of their work and their recording techniques. Certainly in the first fifty years of excavation at the city archaeological exploration was conducted in a haphazard manner and personal interest determined what remains were felt to be worth exploring as Lancel makes clear (writing of 1921): ‘When, notably in Carthage, archaeological research was a somewhat marginal activity, in the pursuit of which scientific curiosity and the enrichment of personal collections often went hand in hand.’38 Of course the work done in the last half century has been of greatly improved quality including that undertaken by the various missions during the international Save Carthage Campaign, but despite this there is still much that is unknown about the city. In particular the central area is badly understood and neither of the cathedrals nor the major temples, nor other buildings such as the forum are definitively located. Despite this epigraphic and archaeological material can be used to provide a picture of Carthage in the fourth and fifth centuries.39

Whilst criticising many of the techniques employed to give sectarian labels to basilicas this section has still left open the possibility of identifying a Donatist or Catholic church even if certainty is difficult to achieve. This is not an attempt to deconstruct the basis for the identification of sectarian churches in North Africa but an attempt to put the work on a firmer footing in preparation for the following chapters. Some of the methods for defining the sect of a basilica seem more reliable than others. In the light of the Donatist preoccupation with persecution in their tracts, which we see in Augustine’s replies, the Donatists may well have expressed their suffering and endurance on their church walls. The combination of epigraphical and literary evidence is also a useful method of assessing the sect of a church, for instance at Sufetula and Thamugadi. Clearly as has been demonstrated above this has to be used with caution. It can in no way be stated on the present evidence that the excavated basilica at Hippo was the original one of Saint Augustine despite the wishful thinking of some scholars.37 Based on the evidence already presented these techniques should allow several basilicas to be attributed to one sect or the other but it also eliminates the identification of many basilicas that have been declared to be Donatist or Catholic in the past.

Although Carthage’s origins reach back into the second half of the eighth century B.C. the Punic city was destroyed in 146 BC and the city as it stands was a product of the Augustan period and later.40 During the four hundred and sixty eight years of Roman occupation Carthage received the full gamut of Roman buildings and it appears that the fourth century AD was one of the busiest periods of construction and redevelopment in its history. Indeed Ausonius, albeit writing from a western perspective, places the city behind Rome, only a small step behind Constantinople and on a par with Antioch and Alexandria in precedence within the Empire.41 Under the Vandals the poet Florentius described the city in grandiloquent terms that were obsequiously sycophantic towards King Thrasamund and his dynasty, but they also potentially echo the status of the city even in the late fifth century.42 In terms of ‘secular’ developments in Carthage there is much that can be said about the late Roman period despite the archaeological problems. It appears that there was a presumption in favour of keeping the pagan and secular buildings in a state appropriate to the city’s status. At the beginning of the period there was a

CASE STUDIES Carthage (Karthago) The capital city of Africa seems to be the best place to start the case studies although, given the vast array of data on the city in the literary sources and the archaeological record, it is no easy to task to produce a brief synthetic history of the city in the late Roman period. Carthage has been extensively excavated from the nineteenth 37

38

Lancel 1999, 229 See figures 1 and 2 for the layout of Carthage in the late Roman period. 40 The city was established as the colonia Iulia Karthago in 29 BC. Lepelley 1981, 11. 41 Ausonius, Ordo no. urb., II, III. Cf. also the Expositio totius mundi et gentium, LXI. 42 Anth. Lat. Florentius, 376. Florentius described a Carthage that was a centre of learning and culture. 39

Marrou 1960, 146-7

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major trauma point for the city in 311 when Maxentius crushed the usurpation of Domitius Alexander. Zosimus states that putting the revolt down cost six thousand lives, which even for Carthage would amount to a substantial percentage of the population although the usual caveats must be cited here about the problems of using figures in ancient sources.43 Aurelius Victor, an African historian who detested Maxentius, alleged that the emperor had ravaged and burnt the city.44 Given Aurelius Victor’s origins this can probably be taken as authoritative account of the damage inflicted on the city. Picard believed that virtually all of the Carthaginian edifices were reconstructed during the fourth century, which may tie in to the damage of 311.45

Flavius Dardanius; while between 388 and 392, in the proconsulate of Junorinus Polemius, the large Antonine baths were restored.48 The small villa baths to the north of the Byrsa excavated by the Swedish Mission between 1979 and 1983 had its largest phase constructed during the late fourth century and on the Odeon Hill a private baths were built at the end of the fourth or beginning of the fifth century.49 The last potential evidence of construction on hydraulics at the city was found at Tunis but probably came from Carthage.50 The inscription commemorates work done on a fountain or reservoir during the reign of Julian under the proconsul Q. Clodius Hermogenianus Olybrius.51 Despite all of the work on bathing facilities in the course of the fourth and fifth centuries the Antonine Baths seem to have been deteriorating from the early fifth century onwards although the main destruction took place after 425 (a coin of Johannes was found in the destruction layer).52 Wilson has suggested that the destruction could be the result of the Vandal occupation and the date could fit well with the demolition of the theatre, Odeon and Aedes Memoriae (see below).53 Victor of Vita’s failure to add the baths to his list of Vandal depredations could argue against linking the archaeological evidence to the invasion. It would seem unlikely that given another opportunity to castigate the Vandals he would have ignored it. A severe accidental fire, failure to maintain the structure properly or an earthquake could equally have resulted in partial collapse. If the destruction was connected to the Vandal seizure of the city it could conceivably date to the last years of Roman Carthage. The fourth century also saw the abandonment of a suburban baths to the north west of the amphitheatre. Unlike other sites on the fringes of Carthage this abandonment and colonisation of the site by tombs cannot be connected to the creation of the Theodosian Wall.54

Most reconstructive work that can be identified through the epigraphy was undertaken under the auspices of the imperial bureaucracy. This was probably due in part to the status of the city, it was important to both the governors and other high officials that worked there that the city stood up to scrutiny against other important cities in the Empire, while the emperors may have contributed to beautifying the settlement in order to gain popularity in Carthage. This process is demonstrated by a text of 324, inscribed on the orders of Maecilius Hilarianus the proconsul, it states that Constantine had restored all of the public buildings.46 Given that Carthage had suffered so badly at the hands of Maxentius it was in the interest of Constantine to demonstrate his care for the city and the region to win its support. There are several buildings that were constructed or reconstructed in this period at Carthage and these will be examined thematically. Key to the provision of water to the whole city the Zaghouan aqueduct was still functioning until the end of the Vandal period and this seems to be the case with the major cisterns as well.47 It should not be a surprise that these major structures were maintained until the end of Roman occupation. Without them proper Roman urban life could not have continued at the city. The same would also have been true of bath complexes and there is copious evidence of work done on them. Under Aco Catullinus in 317-18 a baths were built and decorated; Lepelley suggests that between 340 and 350 work was undertaken on a baths by

48

Lepelley 1981, 14. CIL VIII., 24582; Lepelley 1981, 15. I.L. Tun., 1093. The inscription merely reads ---rdanius thermis proco---. Lepelley’s dating is based on an inscription from near Furnos Maius. The proconsul in that inscription, Flavius Dardanius, served under Constans and Constantius II. The identification is likely but is far from certain; Lepelley 1981: 16. A.E., 1949, 28. 49 Gerner-Hansen 2002, 116-7. Wells 1992, 120 and Neuru 1992, 185-6. Garrison, Foss, and Wells 1993, 251-260. Wells and Garrison 1999, 316. 50 Lepelley 1981, 15 51 A.E., 1955, 55 = B.C.T.H. 1951-52, p. 215-216. Lepelley 1981, 15 52 Clover 1982, 9 and Lezine, Picard, and Picard 1956, 426428. 53 Wilson 1998, 93. 54 Rossiter 1998, 112-113. Audollent 1901, 191 incorrectly assessed the building as a villa with attached baths.

43 Zos. Nova Historia, II.14.3-4. Given that the population of Carthage is generally estimated to have been around 250,000 people 6000 deaths would amount to around 2.4% of the total population. 44 Aur. Vict. Caes., 40 45 Lepelley 1981, 12. 46 Lepelley 1981, 14. Inscription: CIL VIII 12524 47 Procop., Vand., II.1.2. Wilson 1998: 93.

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Games and spectacles also continued during this era with a variety of evidence showing the continued importance of the theatre, amphitheatre and circus to the Carthaginian population. It is important to note that these were still arenas for displays of euergetism to the Carthaginian populace. The famous orator Symmachus, when he was proconsul of Africa in 373-74, erected statues in the amphitheatre while another proconsul Virius Audentius Aemilianus, in office between 379 and 383, re-established statues in the theatre.55 Obviously even into the late fourth century these venues were still seen as important not just as places for entertainment but also as places to demonstrate personal wealth and status. Indeed the games and spectacles of Carthage appear to have been internationally famous given their entry in the Expositio totius mundi et gentium.56 A range of evidence demonstrates that the circus was extremely popular at Carthage into the late Roman period. There is, for instance, a mosaic in the ‘palace’ at the foot of the Hill of Juno that shows a circus and depicts ‘blue’ and ‘red’ horses; a fourth century inscription mentioning ‘populus Veneti’; and a plethora of poems from the Latin Anthology that relate to the circus. The poems stem from the Vandal period but do show continuity of interest into the late period.57

construction but then the remains are very poorly preserved).60 Quodvultdeus also deplored the way in which the population still packed into the theatre when the majority of the province was under the Vandal yoke and Salvian recorded that the ‘Christian’ population of Carthage still attended the circus and theatre even as they were being besieged by the Vandal army.61 Much of this statement may be rhetoric, as Salvian was trying to make a point that the Roman people were worse than the ‘barbarians’, but it seems likely that the theatres and circuses were still in operation in order for him to use this example as a way of denigrating the people of Carthage. Indeed it was not until the Vandal period that the theatre was rendered unusable and the Odeon had its decoration destroyed, allegedly because the Vandals feared their use as fortresses by elements opposed to them within the city.62 Even with the destruction of these structures the entertainments that used to take place within them probably continued elsewhere, possibly in the amphitheatre or private homes, as Victor of Vita mentions an archimimus and the poet Luxorius mentions a female dwarf pantomimist.63 Carthage’s wall-circuit was constructed in 425 at the express command of Theodosius II, according to the Chronica Gallica.64 It seems most likely that this was due to the concept that important cities should have a wall circuit rather than any question of defence but it is possible that for once a Roman emperor was planning ahead rather than responding after a threat was already imminent. It is also notable that it was Theodosius II that ordered the construction of the land walls at Constantinople, perhaps the construction of the walls of Carthage can be linked to what appears to be a determination on the part of Theodosius to give the principal cities of the Empire appropriate status symbols or defensive circuits. This again demonstrates the relationship between this important city and the imperial bureaucracy and also differentiates the process here from that at other sites in the West.

Virius Audentius Aemilianus may have replaced the statues because of major damage to the theatre as at some stage after the mid-fourth century, but before the Vandal invasion, major structural repairs to the theatre were undertaken.58 The replacing of statues and the repair work may relate to a major, unexplained, episode of destruction that needed remedying. Augustine himself once wished to enter a poetry competition in the theatre at Carthage and enjoyed the plays before his conversion although he later railed against them in the Expositions on the Psalms, possibly because it was the venue for shows where scantily clad individuals of both sexes took part in spectacles that evoked the behaviour of nymphs.59 One of these sermons given at Carthage explicitly states that the theatre was going to be flooded the next day (although there is no evidence from the Carthaginian theatre that hydraulic concrete was used in its

In terms of the area surrounding, and cut through by, the Theodosian Wall there was a substantial 60

August. Enarratio in Ps. 80.23. Ros 1996, 471. Quodvultdeus, Sermo de tempore barbarico, I.1. Salvian, Gub. Dei., VI.12 and VII.17. 62 Victor Vitensis, Historia persecutionis Africanae Provinciae, I.8. Victor claimed that they were destroyed to their foundations. While this was not quite true the devastation would have prevented their use. Cf. Picard and Baillon 1992, 13-15 63 Victor Vitensis, Historia persecutionis Africanae Provinciae, 1.47 and Luxorius, 24. Rosenblum 1961, 194-5. 64 Text reproduced in Audollent 1901, 788. The Chronica Gallica is dated to 452.

55

61

CIL VIII, 24584; 24588 and 24589; Sear 2006, 277-8 56 Expositio totius mundi et gentium, 61 57 Clover 1982, 9; Picard 1964, 101-118. I. L. Afr. 385 cited in Cameron 1976; Humphrey 1986, 305; Rosenblum 1961. There is also the bird-circus mosaic from a building between the Hill of Juno and the Byrsa Hill (late fourth to early fifthcentury date) but this is slightly different being a fantastical composition. Hanoune 1969, 219-256. 58 Ros 1996, 456 and 482 59 August. Conf., III.2.2 and IV.2.3; Enarratio in Ps., 40.9; 62.6; 80.23; 81.16; 85.12; 86.15; 94.15; 100.9; 147.18; 149.7

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amount of excavation and survey work undertaken by several of the international teams that took part in the Save Carthage Campaign.65 Their work has emphasised the amount of destruction that had to be undertaken in the suburbs of Carthage to build the wall. Clearly there was the space needed for the actual wall and its foundations, but substantial fields of fire had to be cleared to enable the structure to exist as a defensive fortification as well as a monumental display piece. The lack of a corresponding number of new gates being placed into the wall to make up for the number of decumani that came out of the centre into this area would also have changed the movement around the area as accessibility was deliberately and substantially compromised.66 This change in the urban dynamic seems to have led to a degradation of previously flourishing areas outside the new line of the wall; the construction of the wall impacted adversely upon the size of the city. Changes to the urban fabric can also be seen in the occupation of some public land by private structures in the late fourth century. Both the vicinity of the Antonine basilica and the cardo maximus indicate that encroachment was taken place.67

The old view, espoused by Saumange and Lantier, was that the north of Carthage was a zone of uninhabited ruins dotted with Christian basilicas during the late Empire.69 To some extent this view was informed by the concept of the late Empire being a time of crisis but excavations during the Save Carthage Campaign have shown that the outskirts of the city flourished at least up until the insertion of the Theodosian Wall into the urban fabric. Two of those houses that were abandoned subsequent to its construction, situated on the south side of decumanus VI between cardines II and III, were very large and have been dated to the end of the fourth/beginning of the fifth century in their latest form.70 Situated nearby were a private baths of a similar date.71 It is difficult to know whether the baths continued in use subsequent to the construction of the wall although the excavators postulate that they were only abandoned in the sixth century when material was dumped in the building.72 Westwards from this sector, the fourth and early fifth centuries saw the expansion of another suburb which lay beyond, and did not conform to, the earlier Augustan street grid-plan but which did align along the earlier rural centuriation.73 The excavations on the intersections of cardines VI and V west with decumanus V and that of cardo IV with decumanus VI demonstrates the regularisation and expansion of the northeastern suburbs of the town in the course of the late Roman period. The former excavation shows that insulae were constructed at the beginning of the fourth century and that in the late fourth century the roads were repaired.74 By the early Vandal period at the latest this northeastern region, and a villa to the northeast of the city, had been abandoned. The early to mid fifth century saw great changes on the fringes of the urban area.75 The Theodosian Wall seems to be the main catalyst for change here rather than devastation occasioned by the Vandal siege, as these buildings seem to have been deserted rather than destroyed.

Many of the houses of the wealthy have mosaics datable to this period. The prosperous obviously felt that it was worthwhile to rebuild any damage that had occurred in 311 and to continue the beautification of their city. For example the Maison des Chevaux at the foot of the Hill of Juno displays hunt scenes and circus horses; a mosaic in the House of Master Julius shows the owner’s life on his rural domain; and the House of the Greek Charioteers, located in a wealthy quarter in the south of the city, has a fourth century circus themed mosaic.68 These sort of mosaics and imagery demonstrate that the fourth century Carthaginian aristocracy was willing to put money into their urban homes and that they had the same preoccupations as their counterparts to the north of the Mediterranean. 65 Cf. Ennabli 1992. This draws together several excavation reports produced by a variety of the teams involved. 66 Corippus states that there were nine gates in the wall in the early Byzantine period Corippus, Iohannis, 6.60. 67 Carrié Carrié 1979, 153 and Gros 1985, 153. 68 Lepelley 1981, 12; Dunbabin 1978, 53; Humphrey 1976, 216; There are plenty of other examples of hunting, rural, amphitheatre and circus mosaics at Carthage. Cf. Dunbabin 1978: 53 for the Dermech hunt mosaic (fourth century); p. 57 for the Offering of the Crane mosaic from the Khéreddine suburb (late fourth-/early fifth-century); p. 59 for the Amazon and leopard mosaic from the Maison de la Cachette de Statues (very late fourth-century or early fifth century); p. 120 for the Gifts of the Seasons in Salammbo (early fourthcentury); p. 142 Preparations for a Banquet (late Constantinian?) may show a cult meal under way, demonstrating continued pagan feeling during the fourth century.

At the other extreme of the city, southern Carthage also displays continued integrity, and indeed growth, of the urban area during the 69

Duval 1997, 323. Wells 1992, 118. Work on the Maison de la Rotunde echoes this pattern of late fourth/beginning of the fifth century building, Balmelle et al. 2003, 155-162. 71 Wells 1992, 120 and Neuru 1992, 185-6. Wells and Garrison 1999, 316. 72 Garrison, Foss and Wells 1993, 260. 73 Anselmino 1992, 127. 74 Anselmino 1992, 128. 75 Dietz 1992, 147. 70

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them.81 All of these individuals and their staff would have had salaries paid to them, which would have re-distributed funds drawn in from across the Empire into the city of Carthage. The presence of these offices then would have been extremely beneficial for the city. The impact on building in the city has already been seen, the proconsuls were associated with construction at the city across the fourth century whether or not they were actually responsible for paying for it. The decoration of official residences would also have helped to preserve skill sets within the city in the production of mosaics, wall paintings etc. Presumably too the Latin poets in the Vandal period such as Dracontius, Luxorius and Florentius had their antecedents in the late Roman period. The poems in honour of the Vandal kings may have replaced works praising Roman officials. Although the local aristocracy must have been put into the shade by the presence of such important men the benefits that it would have brought to Carthage would have far out weighed the disadvantages.

fourth and early fifth centuries. Hurst has postulated the presence of Carthage’s state cloth factory (gynaeceum) at the circular harbour but whether or not this is correct it is clear that the harbour-front demonstrated development on an almost unprecedented scale in the late fourth century.76 Large warehouses appear to have been constructed or reconstructed between ca. 360 and 380 and hypothetically this could have been due to the continued and growing importance of the North African grain trade during the fourth century.77 Augustine also confirms the vitality of trade in the city in his narration of the woes of Alypius who was accused of theft by the silversmiths near the forum.78 The traders whipped up a crowd to catch the thief and seized Alypius instead. The maintenance of the commercial framework and its installations can also be seen in the apparently continued use of the canals between the Lac de Tunis and the Mediterranean. An inscription recording ferry costs on the canals can be dated to late antiquity by the prices being listed in folles.79 Plainly the southern part of Carthage and the zone extending south along the coast, with its various harbours, was important for the continued wealth of the city and, given the general prosperity evinced in this section, it should not be surprising that this area was being maintained and developed in this period. Other areas of southern Carthage also demonstrate development with a general intensifying of activity in this area of the city. As with the north of Carthage several inhabited areas were cut off from the rest of the city, and presumably destroyed to provide a clear field of fire, by the construction of the Theodosian Wall.80

In terms of religion there is little epigraphic evidence of work on pagan sanctuaries in this period beyond the restoration of the temple of Cybele and Attis, on the northeast corner of the Byrsa hill, between 331 and 333 under the proconsul L. Aradius Valerius Proculus.82 There may be archaeological indications of maintenance of the fabric of the temples even into the early fifth century. The mosaic of the seasons at the Tophet site in southern Carthage seems to date from the late fourth century at the earliest and seems to be within a sacred context, possibly next to a cult building of Venus-Astarte within a sacred area relating to Caelestis and her associated gods.83 If this dating were correct this representation of female nude deities on a sacred site would indicate the maintenance of pagan ritual even after the closure of the temples in 391. Augustine’s evidence demonstrates that the festivals in honour of Caelestis were still underway at Carthage during his stay there between 371 and 383 and that crowds gathered to watch them, the revelation of the goddess’ image and the sacred plays that were associated with them.84

Carthage’s wealth in the fourth and fifth centuries is almost certainly partly the result of the city being the Metropolis of Africa; wealth would naturally be concentrated around members of the Imperial bureaucracy and the aristocracy that lived in the city. Three very important officials were resident in the city. The vicar of the African diocese (vicarius Africae), the governor of Africa (proconsul Africae) and the prefect of the African state oil and grain distribution system (praefectus annonae Africae), had substantial official staff associated with

Evidence for Christian activity at Carthage comes from as early as the 180s when the Scillitan martyrs were executed there.85 The following two and a half centuries provided the

76

Hurst 1994, 64-70, 92-98. Cloth working was certainly important at the site and there was a cloth factory at Carthage but it is not clear that they are the same structure. Notitia Dignitatum, Occ. XI. The Procurator gynaecii Carthagiensis, Africae. 77 Eadie and Humphrey 1977, 12. 78 Confessions VI.9.14 79 CIL VIII 24512. Eadie and Humphrey 1977, 18. The functioning of the oil collection system for transport to Rome is also demonstrated by the ostraca dated to 373-4. Peña 1998. 80 Eadie and Humphrey 1977, 16.

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Notitia Dignitatum, Occ. XX Lepelley, 1981; CIL VIII 24521 83 Hurst 2002, 61-66; 91-7. Quodvultdeus, Liber de Promissionibus et Praedictionibus Dei, III.38.44. 84 August. de civ. dei, II.4 and 26; 85 Acta Martyrum Scillitanorum 82

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Carthaginian Churches with a rich heritage of martyrs and a sacred topography rivalled by few cities in the Empire.86 However, as Duval rightly states the fact that we do not have a full list of the regions of Carthage or itineraries of pilgrimages to Carthage means that we do not have a full picture of the urban ecclesiastical topography.87 To make matters worse the problematic state of the archaeology of the city’s central zone precludes the production of either accurate plans or the provision of any details of Christian basilicas in that area. There is, however, a plethora of excavated churches and other Christian monuments within the city and its suburbs and because of Carthage’s pre-eminence in North African religious affairs we do have some literary evidence for the Christian communities at the city as well.88

There are several other churches mentioned by name that seem to relate to the urban area. The basilicae Gratiani, Theodosiana and Honoriana along with the Tertullianist basilica are all named in works of Augustine.91 This last may have been in existence for some time as that sect dated to the beginning of the third century. The other three are likely to date in or perhaps slightly after the reigns of the emperors whose name they preserve, although whether they were donated by those emperors or erected in their name by a local aristocrat or the governor is unknowable. Of course, to make matters more complicated still, some of these churches may be known by other names in the literary corpus. It is possible to say something about the nature of Christianisation in the area intra muros, although not much about the centre of the city. The cache of statues hidden in an underground room near the Bordj-Djedid cistern seems to demonstrate a pagan retreat under Christian pressure.92 The sacred idols were hidden away in the late fourth century, on the basis of the mosaic floor placed above the room, so that they could not be further damaged.93 Several of the statues demonstrate deliberate mutilation and it is likely to date to after the closure of the temples. It is theoretically possible that the defacement and translocation of the statues date to the destruction of temples and images that occurred in 399 at the instigation of the imperial officials Gaudentius and Jovius but this can only be a conjecture based on a potential conjunction of dates.94 In the latter case it may be that the officials were attempting to enforce the measures of the Theodosian Code XVI.10.18 that called for the removal of idols but just as the linking of the Bordj-Djedid cache and the Augustine’s writings may be an illegitimate association of disparate evidence types, the legal pronouncement and literary evidence may not have been directly associated.

The locations of the Donatist and Catholic cathedrals may not be known but their names, the Theoprepia and the Restituta respectively, are.89 The Theoprepia has a Greek name, which allows us to surmise that it was a very old foundation but beyond that we can say little and the Restituta had clearly been restored to the Catholic community but whether from the Donatists or pre-Constantinian pagan control is unclear.90 It is certain that they stood in the centre of the city and were probably substantial buildings and that profoundly affected the urban landscape. Movement around the city would have changed to take into account their presence as centres of worship. That they were both inside the city proper might suggest that both communities felt that it was important to be part of the true urban landscape, although it may have been simply an accident of strength, power or history that led to specific basilicas being held by a particular sect.

86 The Scillitan martyrs, Saint Perpetua and her companions and Saint Cyprian were key North African martyrs for all Christian sects; they all had honoured burial places within the city. The Abitinian martyrs and those killed in the basilica maiorum during the Constantinian crackdown against the Donatists were all honoured by the Donatists. 87 Duval 1997, 313. 88 Augustine’s letters, sermons and tractates against the Donatists (Against the Letter of Parmenian, Three books Against Petilian) Optatus and Quodvultdeus’ Book of the Promises and Predictions of God all contain information that help us reconstruct events relating to the Christian topography of Carthage. 89 Ennabli 1997a, 29-30 and 31. The basilica restituta is mentioned in Gesta Coll. Carth., III.4; August., Enarratio in Ps., 14; and Victor Vitensis, Historia persecutionis Africanae Provinciae, I.15. The Theoprepia is attested in Gesta Coll. Carth. III.5; August., Enarratio in Ps., 80; and August., Ep. 139.1. 90 Ennabli 1997a, 31. Theoprepia means Divine Magnificence; the name may stem from the second and third centuries when prior to Cyprian the bishops of the city tended to be Greek.

The cult of Caelestis may have been functioning in part into the late fourth century but we have some indication that there was an act of 91

Basilica Gratiani – August. Serm., 156; Basilica Theodosiana – August., Serm., 26; Basilica Honoriana – August., Serm., 163; Tertullianist Basilica – August., haer., 86. 92 The recovered material included: a Venus on a dolphin; a sitting Jupiter with an eagle; a Bacchus giving a drink to a panther; a sitting young man dressed in a chlamys; a head of Love; a mask of Silenus; a head of a lion in the form of a gargoyle; a statue of Carthaginian Isis and two of her priestesses; a veiled goddess; a statue of Mithras with the head of a bull; a statue of Mithras; the lower part of a statuette with a bust of the horse of Carthage; the masque of a diademed goddess; a large slab in white marble bearing the inscription: Jovi Hammoni Barbaro Sylvano 93 Gaukler 1899, 156-165. 94 August. De civ. d., XVIII.54

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been placed there.99 An explanation could be if a church was placed into the area of the temple but not in the temple itself, Ursus could have then destroyed non-Christian sanctuaries in the area of the Temple of Caelestis. If the Temple of Caelestis lay in the Tophet zone, a hypothesis that envisages the creation of a church might be supported by the fact that the city wall, built four years after Ursus destroyed the sanctuaries, seems to have been constructed in order to incorporate the area.100 This might be because it was easier to go around the remains of the temples but it could indicate that there was something that needed to be preserved there. It is difficult to come to a conclusion because of the limited nature of the archaeological and literary evidence but it seems unlikely that Quodvultdeus would not have explicitly mentioned the existence of a church. Even if we are not seeing a formal Christianisation of the urban topography with this act it highlights an ideological war occurring in the city that must have had an affect on Christians and pagans alike.

Christianisation at her temple by Bishop Aurelius in 399-400. The temple had clearly been unused for some time as Quodvultdeus states that the Christian community had to clear debris from the enclosure while the pagans had threatened them with snakes and scorpions that had come to inhabit the place.95 Presumably it had been closed in 391 along with the other temples. Allowing for rhetorical exaggeration on Quodvultdeus’ part nine years could have allowed for some colonisation of the site by wild animals and vegetation, so this would not contradict Augustine’s evidence about the cult thriving during his stay there. It is more difficult to marry this evidence with the apparent creation of a new, seemingly pagan, mosaic pavement in the early fifth century at the site of the Tophet temples, but it does not seem to have been part of the Caelestis temple and Hurst suggests that it might have been for a dining association attached the cult area and so would not have come under attack.96 Alternatively the mosaic may have been laid after Aurelius’ actions and before the destruction of the temples by the tribune Ursus in 421. Indeed if the area was still being used that might indicate why he decided to destroy the complex.

There are several known churches within the walls of the city. The basilica and ecclesiastical complex in the Carthagenna district had its origins either in the later fourth century or in the first quarter of the fifth century.101 The chronology and structure of the building, as well as the mosaics, suggest that the building was a church at that date.102 Elsewhere Dermech I had fifth-century pavements below the main Byzantine phases that relate to an earlier church, and the Rotunda and its associated basilica near the theatre had been constructed in the fourth century.103 The effect of these churches on the surrounding urban area must have been substantial due to the changes that they would have imposed, at the very least on movement patterns on view-sheds and spatial arrangement

Returning to Quodvultdeus’ text we are told that the bishop had placed his cathedra in the place of the idol of Caelestis in front of a large and curious crowd.97 This act may have been a formal occupation of the temple for Christian activities but it seems more likely, in view of the temple’s later destruction in 421, that it was a symbolic gesture. Aurelius may have been making the ideological point that Christianity had triumphed over the pagan deities by setting up his chair in the temple. The occupation may not have been a permanent transformation and the chair itself may have been portable. Ennabli seems to believe that a church had been set up in the temple but if this was the case why would Constantius III’s Christian tribune Ursus have had the temple destroyed?98 Furthermore Quodvultdeus seems to be excessively pleased about the destruction of the temple area including the remains of the Temple of Caelestis, which would be unlikely if a church had ever really

99 Quodvultdeus, Liber de Promissionibus et Praedictionibus Dei, III.38.44. The Vandals completed the destruction of the sacred way at some date before Quodvultdeus wrote in the mid to late fifth century. The testimony of Victor of Vita suggests that the destruction took place soon after they seized the city in 439. Victor Vitensis, Historia persecutionis Africanae Provinciae, I.8 100 Hurst 2002, 81-3. 101 Humphrey 1977, 4-5; Ellis 1980; Ennabli 1997b, 291-311. Duval questions the idea that Carthagenna (he even criticises the name) was a church in the pre-Byzantine period. It is true that there is no known emplacement for an altar but a heavy wooden one would not necessarily leave traces while his statement that the plan and entrance are odd is neither here nor there; North Africa demonstrates enough diversions from the typical basilica with an entrance at the opposite end to the apse that we need hardly believe that that is grounds for ruling it out as a church. Duval 1997, 320. See, for example, the southern cemetery church at Thamugadi. See Figure 14. 102 Ennabli 2000, 34-38. 103 Senay 1985: 512; Alexander, Ben Abed-Ben Khader and Metraux 1996, 364-6; Ennabli 1997a, 77; Ennabli 1997b, 291-311; Ben Abed-Ben Khader 1999, 102-8, 121-3.

95 Quodvultdeus, Liber de Promissionibus et Praedictionibus Dei, III.38.44. 96 Hurst 2002, 70. 97 Quodvultdeus, Liber de Promissionibus et Praedictionibus Dei, III.38.44. 98 Ennabli 1997a, 36. Duval 1997, 317 suggests that there is a possibility that the church could have been placed inside the temple court and the rest of the temple destroyed around it but why do that when the porticoes and the cella could have been made use of in new Christian contexts as they were elsewhere in North Africa?

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within the city centre. The Rotunda, placed as it was on a hill, would have been a dominating feature, possibly recognisable as a landmark out at sea. If that were the case, to the mariner the Rotunda and its attendant basilica may have become part of the conceptual whole of Carthage and something that would be looked upon as representing the city. Indeed churches in general seen out at sea must in late antiquity have come to be defining characteristics of a cityscape for the traveller. Thus although the centre of the city is too badly known for in-depth spatial analysis there are things that we can say about the effects of Christianisation upon the urban topography.

although not certainly, the basilica maiorum, which seems to have been the basilica perpetua restituta.105 These two, Cyprian and Perpetua, were the pre-eminent African martyrs and were honoured throughout the Church. Both Donatists and Catholics appealed to Cyprian’s theology and ecclesiology to such a degree that there were both Catholic and Donatist recensions of his Passion. So important was Cyprian that Augustine regularly preached at his natalis on the 14th September in one or other of the Carthaginian basilicas dedicated to him.106 Bir el Knissia I, situated to the south of the Theodosian Wall, may have been Roman. The phases currently excavated are Vandal and Byzantine but there is a possibility that there was some activity at the site before the late fifth/early sixth century phases.107 Interestingly, the church is close to what appears to be a raised path through a modern field aligned with a gate in the Theodosian Wall on cardo V (east).108 Even if this was not a Roman structure it does indicate that, along with the placing of the Damous elKarita, there is some link between the route of roads exiting Carthage and the placing of basilicas in antiquity.

We are on safer ground when discussing the Christianisation of the suburbs. The city was ringed by extra-mural cemeteries and consequently by Christian structures designed to meet the needs of the faith with regard to the dead and the martyrs. Outside the city’s urban area, where the dead resided, there were substantial numbers of vast basilicas many with their own ancillary buildings, which dominated the burial grounds and the approaches to the city. The extra muros basilicas would not perhaps have substantially changed the urban topography of Carthage as they were implanted within areas that were only inhabited by the dead, but psychologically there may have been an effect as pagans and Christians alike will have been daily reminded of the triumph of Christianity and their presence may have changed movement patterns around the city, this will be dealt with in greater depth in the next chapter.

Without the actual locations of the cathedrals there is nothing that can be said with regard to their effect on the urban topography and how they related to various areas within the city. Ennabli has suggested that the close proximity of Dermech I and II demonstrate the close opposition that we might expect from sectarian strife but there is nothing that actually proves this.109 The literary sources do provide us with the picture of two strong communities, which for the most part appear relatively well disposed towards each other but which occasionally suffered outbreaks of inter-communal violence. It is also clear from the sources that Carthage was the location of much dispute within the Donatist Church as it was here that the split between the

The Damous el-Karita basilica and associated buildings, sited one hundred metres to the north of the Theodosian Wall near to the cardo maximus, is perhaps the most spectacular of the late Roman constructions. Built during the fifth century, relatively close to the road north out of Carthage, it is massive and spectacular even in its ruined state. The basilica itself is sixty-five metres long by forty-five metres wide, including its vast semi-circular atrium, trefoil chapel, baptistery and associated buildings the entire complex is over two hundred metres long.104 That it would have made an impression upon those who worshiped in it cannot be doubted, indeed as a martyr church pilgrimage may have made it a focus of activity for people from further afield. Also to the north of Carthage the basilica at Mcidfa and the basilica of Saint Monica, both of which were fourth/fifth century in origin, may have been linked to the cult of Saint Cyprian. The basilica at Mcidfa was also related to Saint Perpetua and her companions and is likely, 104

105

Duval 1997, 341. Duval, Y. 1982, 678. Augustine preached the following sermons on around the natalis in Carthage. Sermon Denis 11 and 12 (13th and 14th September 397); Sermon Denis 14 and 15 (14th September 401); Sermon Monn. Guelf. 26 (14th September 403); Enarratio in Ps., 32, II 1 and 2 (13th and 16th September 403); Serm. 311 (14th September 405); Enarratio in Ps. 85, 86 and 142 (13th, 14th and 15th September 416); Serm. 312 (14th September 417); Serm. 313 (14th September date unknown). In 410 he celebrated the natalis at an unknown place but on the 8th September he preached Sermon Frangipane 5 at the basilica mensa cypriani. In 411 he preached Enarratio in Ps. 80 at the same basilica at the start of September while in another unknown year he preached Enarratio in Ps. 88 on the 13th September. 107 Stevens 1993, 13 and Ennabli 1993,13. 108 Hurst and Roskams 1984, 37 109 Ennabli 1989, 1099-1100. Indeed it is unclear whether Dermech II had a late Roman phase at all. 106

Duval 1972, 121-127.

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Maximianists and Claudianists and the main body of the Church occurred.110

habit, even if it was principally by the governors. On the eve of the Vandal invasion and after Carthage’s very vitality was such that some deplored it.117 Augustine’s writings, the epigraphic record and archaeological excavation present a city of great variety and exuberance. Its aristocracy was wealthy, self-assured and powerful. The Churches were embroiled in extremely lively debates on the nature of the true Church and its people continued to pack into the spectacles.

The excavated churches date, at the earliest, to the late fourth century.111 Such a late date is partly due to the archaeological problems involved with the centre of the city and the lack of archaeological exploration beyond upper levels at many sites.112 It seems impossible that the capital of North Africa, with a large Christian community from before the time of the Great Persecution, did not build churches before the late fourth century; especially given their presence at Cirta-Constantine but the Church may have continued to use earlier pre-basilical meeting places for some time.113 Certainly, as would be expected, the pre-Constantinian literary evidence of Tertullian and Cyprian makes it clear that there were Christian assembly places at Carthage during the third century; unfortunately they are not known archaeologically and the detail the Church Fathers provide is limited.114

Ammaedara (Haïdra) Much of the excavation of Ammaedara was done in the early years of the twentieth century by various archaeologists and of course the usual warnings about problems of methodology, recording and preservation of finds have to be borne in mind.118 Ammaedara has not been examined in anything like the detail of Carthage, Cuicul, Thuburbo Maius or Thamugadi and its evolution and its public buildings are not as well known. The examination of the late antique city is also not helped by the presence of a large Byzantine fort and its associated structures over its centre. These last two points demonstrate that although we know something of the city’s layout, the relationship of the churches to this, and the persistence of the urban form into the late period, our knowledge is far from comprehensive. The churches, however, have been well documented by Noël Duval in a series of articles in CRAI.119 These allow us to make in depth examinations of the city’s Christian communities. Ammaedara had its origins as the winter camp of the Third Legion in the reign of Augustus and it remained as such until the movement of the legion to Theveste under Vespasian. It appears that it was at this juncture that the town was turned into the Colonia Flavia Augusta Emerita Ammaedara with its first citizens being veterans, it was an important town on a crossroads among the Moorish tribes and its monuments reflect this status.120

In terms of the suburban martyr basilicas it seems likely that we can identify the sectarian nature of one of the churches. The basilica maiorum/basilica perpetua restituta seems to have been a Donatist martyr church at the start of the schism but the Catholics apparently seized it around 390.115 This suggests that its position was not dictated by the concerns of Catholic or Donatist sectarian ideology. The position of the basilica would have been dictated by the preexistence of an area sacred to Perpetua’s memory, probably her burial place. Its presence out in the suburbs could be described as opposing the ‘city’ and its paganism and may have been thought of as such but this was the consequence of its history as a cemetery basilica.116 The capital of Africa was a thriving city in the late period with monumental buildings that were kept in good order, massive construction projects on churches and the walls that must have kept many people of the artisan and labouring classes at work and a continuance of the epigraphic

There are several monumental, early imperial constructions in the city: the temple across the road from Basilica I appears to have been the city’s Capitol; the horrea and le bâtiment des fenêtres, which may have been a judicial basilica, were also nearby.121 Elsewhere within the town were a theatre, several baths, and two arches: one on the southern edge of the town beyond the

110

See The Letter of the Council of Cebarsussa for some of the details of this split. 111 Ennabli 1997a, 148. 112 Duval 1997, 313. Duval criticises Ennabli for making the statement that there was an absence of basilicas at Carthage until the end of the fourth century (1997, 148) while also stating (1997, 17) that most of the sanctuaries already existed in more modest form. It is likely that Ennabli meant that the known basilicas only existed from the end of the fourth century. The main literary sources for churches at Carthage are Augustine, the Acts of the Council of Carthage in 411 and Victor of Vita, none of which are earlier than the 380’s. 113 White 1990, 23 114 Cyprian and Tertullian provide little detail of the Carthaginian churches and their layout. 115 Ennabli 1997, 19-20 116 CTh., IX.17.5-7.

117

Salvian, Gub. Dei., VII.17. See figure 3 for the layout of the city in the late Roman period. 119 Cf. Duval 1968, 221-244; Duval 1969, 409-436; Duval 1982b, 633-671; Duval and Golvin 1972, 133-172. 120 Lepelley 1981, 64-65. CIL VIII 308. 121 Duval 1982b: 646. See figure 3. 118

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Oued Ammaedara and another, of Severus, on the western extremity of the town.122 Unfortunately, from the point of view of the late Romanist, the large Byzantine fort masks a large part of the centre of the town. Large necropoleis surround the town and contain not only Basilica II but also several large mausolea (including the so-called hexagonal, tetrastyle and square mausolea). Beyond these necropoleis was a Temple of Saturn. Some houses are known, but unfortunately not in great detail, and present evidence does not demonstrate when they were constructed and for how long they were in use. There is also no evidence of either a circus or an amphitheatre, which suggests that the city was not among those of the first rank. It is also noteworthy that Ammaedara did not have a wall circuit during the late Roman period; perhaps its elite did not feel that the city required such a monument or alternatively the city may just neither had the funds, the private benefactors, nor the will to construct walls.

sacerdotalis provinciae Africae that relate to the Vandal period.125 It is interesting that these people hold pagan titles but that these are framed alongside an alpha and omega as well as a monogrammatic cross. Such a mix of religious imagery may demonstrates that by this period at least the status of flamen and other religious titles had lost much of their original religious significance and were used as honours.126 The troughed building with its vast associated court was the only building that was constructed in the Roman period, which was not a church. Even this building, especially given its proximity to the ‘Vandal’ chapel, could have had some sort of religious function as a distribution point for alms or as a feeding point for pilgrims but there is an inconclusive debate about this type of structure.127 We have scant information about events within the Christian community at Ammaedara beyond the fact that at the Council of Carthage, both Speratus and Crescentianus, the Catholic and Donatist bishops of the city were present.128 Moving to the Christian building tradition, when a plan of the site is examined it becomes clear that Basilica I is at the heart of the city in the monumental area, it is a large church of thirtytwo by fourteen and a half metres, with a forecourt and groups of annexes to the north and south.129 As with many churches in North Africa its date is not secure. Coin finds point to the fourth century or later and it was clearly built before an epitaph of a Vandal bishop of 560. Gsell interprets the evidence as suggesting a late fourth or early fifth century date, Saladin suggests the fourth century and Poinssot suggests a Byzantine date; on the basis of the evidence Duval believes that it is substantially earlier than the late epitaph but it is impossible to say how much earlier.130 The church is placed on top of earlier constructions one of which appears to have been a public structure, the basilica follows the alignment of these earlier buildings and the road in front of its facade. Given the presence of the bishop’s epitaph, its central location and its relatively large size it is likely that it was the city’s cathedral from at least the Vandal period. Duval suggests that it was the Catholic Cathedral although the absence of any diagnostic

These monuments tell us little about developments at Ammaedara in the late period. The fact that the Arch of Severus demarcates the western edge of the town suggests that by the first third of the third century the town had expanded as far as it would in that direction. It is a shame that we do not know the date of the arch to the south of the town as this might tell us the date of the extension beyond the river. There is, besides this, little evidence of whether there was any shrinkage of the urban area during this period or if any structures had been allowed to fall into ruin. There is little evidence for the continued upkeep of the old classical city in terms of epigraphy and archaeology at Ammaedara. In 299 the porticoes of the theatre were restored at the expense of the city itself while in the times of the tetrarchy other works were done on its orchestra and balustrades.123 A wealthy local appears to have underwritten the cost of the operation and offered games to the citizens. There is some indication that while there may not be any documented development of the city during the fourth century there was some persistence of old urban forms in the maintenance of the old civic forms and titles of officials at Ammaedara. It is known that elsewhere in North Africa the title of flamen was particularly popular even in the Vandal period and masses of inscriptions commemorate or were erected by individuals that were of the rank of municipal priest.124 The ‘Vandal’ chapel contains epitaphs of two perpetual flamines and a

125

Lepelley 1981, 66-67. CIL VIII 450 = 11523 = I.L.C.V., 126; CIL VIII 10516 = I.L.C.V., 388; 126 Indeed the Council of Elvira demonstrates that it was possible to hold the flaminate but not sacrifice at the end of the third century. Canons of the Council of Elvira, 2, 3, 4 and 55. 127 Duval and Golvin 1972, 133-172. 128 Gesta Coll. Carth., I.126.131. 129 See figure 3. 130 Duval 1968, 244.

122

Duval 1982b: 649. Lepelley 1981, 65. CIL VIII 11532 = 309 124 Lepelley 1981, 66-67. 123

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information makes the exact reason for this impossible to see. It was the case that Catholicism was the dominant sect in Proconsularis and, given the structures large size and its proximity to secular power, it might be expected to have been a Catholic building but it is not impossible that a Donatist group could have been dominant in the city and have taken possession of this site.131

stems from the mid second through to the early third centuries when the native settlement was expanded and received traditional Roman amenities.134 It may be that there had been some ‘Romanisation’ of the settlement during the first century but, as with many of the other cities of North Africa, this had disappeared beneath second-century replacements and changes. Whether the second-century buildings mask an earlier Roman tradition or not it was these constructions that defined the city into the fifth century. It is perhaps not a surprise that the settlement was not centrally planned as it developed in an irregular manner from its preRoman origins. This has an impact on how we view the development of the city, in contrast to cities that show evidence of gridiron planning such as Lepcis Magna, Thamugadi or Sufetula. It is difficult to see expansion of the inhabited area at Thuburbo simply by examining the town plan and where dated buildings lie within it. It is therefore necessary to consider closely the indicators as to when structures were built or developed.

Ammaedara also demonstrates the process whereby a cemetery church was placed into a necropolis of the city. Basilica II in its present form is a Byzantine structure but it was constructed around a larger, earlier church that was of the fourth or fifth centuries; unfortunately the early phases have not been examined but it is likely to have been for the servicing of the Christian dead who were buried nearby as well as serving as a martyr basilica dedicated to martyrs of the Diocletianic persecution.132 The other Christian implantations within Ammaedara are less useful in terms of what they show about the Christianisation of the urban landscape; Basilicas III and V are Byzantine while Basilica IV is in an area that has not been thoroughly excavated.133

Documented construction at Thuburbo only appears sometime after the promotion of the city to the rank of municipium under Hadrian.135 The Capitol was dedicated in AD 168, and the Temple of Mercury; Markets of the Peristyle and of the Boutiques; the Baths of the Labyrinth were all constructed before 211 and the Baths of the Capitol had mosaics of the second half of the second century in its first phase.136 Building at the city may have helped to persuade the authorities to elevate the city to a colony under Commodus.137 Towards the end of the second century or early in the third there appears to have been a new phase of construction at the town. The Baths of the Capitol entered their second phase at this period with a new mosaic series being installed while the Summer Baths, Winter Baths, and the Baths of the Stars appear, on architectural and archaeological grounds, to have begun their long lives at this time.138 The city’s religious life also appears to have benefited from this spate of activity as the mosaic pavements of the East Temple overlay a deposit containing late second/early third century potsherds.139 The city continued to be developed in the first third of the

The evidence for the fourth and fifth century town at Ammaedara is hardly comprehensive due to the fact that much of the town, including the centre, remains to be excavated, a fact that obviously impinges upon what we can say about the city. Despite the general lack of evidence as to whether the city prospered or declined in this period it is clear that there were at least some aspects of continuity with the past and some developments in the vein of what was occurring in other North African cities. As has been shown above, Ammaedara demonstrates the insertion of Christian and other structures into the classical landscape, some continuance of the tradition of the benefactor and municipal titles and perhaps some continuing classical ideology in the lack of a city wall. Thuburbo Maius (Henchir Khasbat) Much of the work on this well-preserved Roman city was undertaken after the mid twentieth century. Several analyses of the mosaics by a joint American and Tunisian team, incorporating other details about the town, were undertaken during the 1980s. These are extremely useful in providing a picture of all aspects of life in the city at this period. The visible city development

134

See figures 4, 6 and 7 for the city layout in this period. I.L. Afr. 244 = I.L. Tun. 699. Alexander, et al. 1980: 1, 2, 5, 9, 13, 23-5 and 79. 137 I.L. Afr. 281, which is the first inscription to mention the new status, honours the former consul and proconsul of Africa C. Vettius Sabinianus Iulius Hospes. Gascou (1982a, 204) argues that this inscription may be in thanks for the exconsul’s efforts to secure the new status. 138 Alexander, et al. 1980, 79 ; Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985: 1-6 and 61-66; Alexander et al. 1994, 13-18. 139 Alexander, et al. 1994, 1. 135 136

131

Duval 1982b, 654-655. The inscription of the illustris Marcellus in the internal martyrium (ILTun 470 c and d) refers to more than 30 victims of Diocletian and Maximian’s persecution. 133 Duval 1969 132

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third century as several temples were constructed and the Summer Baths were developed by the addition of the Peristyle of the Petronii in 225 and a set of mosaic pavements.140

inscription in the curia mentions the erection of a statue to the aedile (Gab?)inius Salvianus, a principalis of Carthage who had been generous in restoring the thermae hiemales.144 This inscription also indicates that the curia was still considered a suitable location for the placing of such a document indicating, perhaps, that the institution had not atrophied away at Thuburbo. These baths were also the subject of restorative works at an unknown date in the late Empire by the flamen perpetuus G. Optatianus.145

There appears then to have been fairly continuous development of the city throughout the second and early third centuries. However, evidence for building work in the city during the mid to late third century is sparse with only dedications to Gordian III and Carus filling in this lacuna.141 The suggestion that the development of the city really did slacken in the middle of the century must be debated however. As Février has noted and as was discussed in Chapter 1, there is a tendency to place third century mosaics and changes at the beginning or the end of the century,142 in other words either during the Severan ‘boom period’ or the tetrarchic ‘recovery’. The chances are that this reflects the assumptions of the archaeologist rather more than the actual facts. How many of those mosaics simply labelled as early or late third century really show continuity of activity throughout the century? Although it is not really the function of this thesis to examine third century developments and changes it is important to note these questions as otherwise proper evaluation of the fourth century can not be undertaken as we will have no firm points of comparison. The lack of inscriptions at Thuburbo in this period cannot be disputed and is likely to have been due to the changes in attitude towards epigraphy and euergetism during the third century.

Work on bath buildings during the fourth and fifth centuries is also demonstrated by several phases of mosaic floors that were placed into the structures. The second phase of pavements in the Summer Baths, which are mainly geometric and floral in character are dated to the first half of the fourth century.146 A third group of pavements may relate to the inscription of 361 and work done on the baths, these works may have taken some time as the pavement in room XVa is similar to a mosaic from the first half of the fifth century in the Winter Baths.147 This seems to demonstrate that works on the baths were ongoing for large portions of the fourth century. The Winter Baths show a phase of reconstruction occurring in the late fourth/early fifth century that plausibly relate to the inscription mentioned above, a set of mosaic floors of the first half of the fifth century may also be part of this process.148 The continuity of use and a desire for the continuance of some aspects of the classical lifestyle is also demonstrated by the fact that towards the end of the fifth or during the sixth century a final phase of mosaic pavements was put in place.149 The Baths of the Labyrinth also appear to have functioned until a fairly late date. Although an artisan complex was inserted into its southwest corner during the fifth-century mosaics of the late third to early fourth century, two fifth-century pavements and a coin of 410439 in the blocking of the caldarium demonstrate that these baths were still in operation until the early fifth century at the earliest.150 The large amount of work done on bath-houses between their construction in the late second to mid third centuries and the end of antiquity demonstrates that at this city at least the baths were considered a building vital to people’s lifestyle right through this period. The following chapter will examine why baths continued to be built or repaired when other constructions were not.

Whether there had actually been a decline in the course of the third century in the rate of building or not the confidence of the population was such, in the fourth and early fifth centuries at least, that the beautification of private homes and public structures either restarted in earnest or simply continued on. The resumption of activity in these spheres is attested by the presence of seven inscriptions relating to building activity during the fourth century, many of which deal with work undertaken at the baths. In 361 the Summer Baths were restored under the curator and flamen perpetuus, Annius Namptoius, with the approval of the senate and of the people and it is likely that another un-dated, inscription located at the city also refers to work done in these baths.143 The Winter Baths were also restored and an 140 Specifically the Temples of Balaat, Caelestis and that close to the Baths of the Stars; Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 47-51. For the Summer Baths and the Peristyle of the Petronii see Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 4. 141 Lepelley 1981, 199. CIL VIII 848; I.L. Tun., 719. 142 Février 1996, 829. 143 Lepelley 1981, 200 and 202. I.L. Afr., 273 A and B; I.L. Afr., 286

144

Lepelley 1981, 201. I.L. Afr., 276 Lepelley 1981, 202. I.L. Afr., 285 146 Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 4-6. 147 Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 4 and 7. 148 Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 61 and 66. 149 Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 66. 150 Alexander, et al. 1980, 23. 145

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The baths were not the only structures that have inscriptions relating to their (re)construction during the period. In the time of the proconsul Paulus Constantius (374-5) an unknown building, probably in the forum, had work done upon it while in 376-7 under his successor, Decimius Hilarianus Hesperius, the portico of the forum was restored at the expense of the curator G(ab?)inius Be(nig?)nus and the ordo.151 Finally, dedications to Constantine II in the amphitheatre suggest that it had work done on it and, indeed, the structure seems to have been completely rebuilt at this time.152

terms of renovation, reconstruction and beautification. It is unnecessary to list every occurrence of this process at Thuburbo as a few examples will suffice. Many of the houses in the city had pools, basins and fountains installed or redecorated in the late third or fourth centuries, the House of Neptune had a marine scene placed into its basin while House 13 had its basin paved in the fourth century.157 These and the many marine scenes in mosaics at Thuburbo perhaps indicate a desire to create a fresh atmosphere or a perception of a fresh atmosphere in houses. Other mosaics erected during the fourth century demonstrate the preoccupations of the elite that commissioned them, they display images of the countryside, the hunt and wild animals in general that may have evoked both the hunt and the amphitheatre in their minds. In this way we see the mosaic displaying twenty-one wild and domestic animals in circles and curved hexagons in the House of the Protomes and a hunt scene from the House of the Chariot of Venus.158

Beyond the improvement of public buildings during this period there is evidence for substantial commercial and industrial activity at the site in the fourth century and later (see Figure 5 for their distribution); several olive oil and cloth production facilities were inserted into earlier structures. The oil-works, of the late third century at the earliest, had decanting basins with poor quality mosaics in them suggesting the creation of new oil production facilities at the period when supposedly there was a great expansion in the cultivation of olives throughout Africa.153 These works are hardly major industrial facilities often encompassing no more than three small decanting basins.154 At least six oil works were established in what appear to have been either purpose-built facilities or earlier housing while elsewhere in the city, during the fifth century, oil basins were placed into the basement of the Capitol.155 Fullers are also apparent at the city with what appears to be a concentration of them in the western quarter at least before the fifth century when structures of this type, if not use, were also inserted into the House of Neptune and the Baths of the Labyrinth.156

With regard to Christianity, a bishopric is attested from an early date and it is likely that the Turbitan and Turbo referred to in the Passion of Saints Maxima, Donatilla and Secunda is this city.159 Secunda appears to have been the only native of the town among this group of martyrs executed in the amphitheatre but their deaths would have provided indigenous martyrs for reverence, promoted through the early dissemination of their passion, as well as several locations connected to their story; Secunda’s house, the amphitheatre and, presumably, their burial place. This would have had an impact upon the town’s sacred geography and would have contributed to a new Christian view of the town’s relationship to the supernatural. By the time of the Council of Carthage in 411 there were two bishops in the city, Cyprianus representing the Catholics and Rufinus representing the Donatists.160 This may indicate that there was a strong Christian community at Thuburbo but it is difficult to see the strength of this tradition in the physical remains at the city. Only two churches are known, both of which are inserted into former temples, namely that of Caelestis and that known as the temple-church. The date of the transformation of the former into a church is not certain while the latter appears to

Private housing also demonstrates continuity of activity into the fourth and fifth centuries in 151 Lepelley 1981: 201. I.L. Afr., 274; I.L. Afr., 275. Jouffroy, 1986, 289 - I.L. Afr., 286 may refer to late fourth century work undertaken in the forum or Summer baths. 152 Lepelley 1981, 202. CIL VIII 23894 = 12368 = 852. An honorary inscription from Henchir Sliman near Thuburbo Maius is not included here following M. Le Glay’s suggestion that it should be dated earlier than the study period (Cahiers de Tunisie, XXIX, 1981 p. 447; Le Glay 1984-5: 65). 153 This assertion is supported by the huge expansion in African amphorae being exported to Rome in this period. MacMullen 1988, 11 154 These basins are generally less than a metre in length and are around half that in width. 155 Alexander, et al. 1980, xxiii. Six of the oil-works at the city had mosaics in their basins and as such appear in the detailed Corpus des Mosaiques de Tunisie, from the site plan there do appear to be others however and that inserted into the Capitol for example is not detailed in this work. 156 Ben Abed-Ben Khader 1987, 129-133. Alexander, et al. 1980, 23.

157

Alexander, et al. 1980, 143; Alexander, et al. 1994, 5-6. Ben Abed-Ben Khader, A. 1987, 17-23, 68-69, and Dunbabin 1978, 53. The hunt scene is probably dated after 360 on the basis of a set of coins. The animal mosaic dates to the second half of the fourth century by a sherd of ARSW found under the mosaic. 159 Passio Sanctae Maximae Donatillae et Secundae, 3 and 4. Turbitan is short for Civitatem Turbitanem. 160 Gesta Coll. Carth. I.135.139. 158

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period at Thuburbo Maius.163 This undoubtedly demonstrates that the wealth of the community was undiminished and that there was a presumption in favour of spending it in established patterns. It is unfortunate that we do not know more about the Christian community at the city as that might provide information on whether it reflected the general pattern of wealth.

have undergone its change in the late fourth century.161 It could perhaps be hypothesised on the basis of other temple transformations in North Africa that the change from the temple of Caelestis to a church took place in the late fourth century or the early fifth century.162 If temples were not converted for Christian use at this period it is likely that by the time of the next wave of building conversions, in the Byzantine period, the temples would have already been put either to other uses or utilised for their building materials elsewhere on the site. This is particularly likely given the proliferation of artisanal and oil-producing facilities inserted into earlier buildings in the town at this period.

Theveste (Tébessa) The excavation of Theveste was undertaken from the mid nineteenth to early twentieth centuries. Alongside the problems of early excavation the examination of this city is further hampered by the constant occupation of the site since antiquity, which generally prevents modern exploration of the centre of Theveste.164 The city may have been the town of Hecatompylos that the Carthaginian general Hanno seized in 247 BC but this cannot be seen as certain.165 In the Imperial period the city was the location of the Third Legion after its arrival from Ammaedara during the reign of Titus and, following the removal of the legion to Lambaesis under Trajan, the town may have become a veteran colony; it appears that it was in this epoch that the city reached the height of its prosperity which was founded upon olive growing.166 During the Roman period Theveste erected buildings of the type that one would expect to find in any selfrespecting Roman city such as an amphitheatre, a circus, a theatre and temples.

It seems likely that there were other churches at Thuburbo besides the excavated ones, as the Christian community would have needed meeting places long before the end of the fourth century. There are no known martyr, or funerary churches, from the Roman period and as the location of two opposed bishoprics there would have been a need for at least two baptisteries at the city before the sixth century baptistery in the cella of the temple-church came into use. It can be presumed then that there are more churches still to be found at the city and that concerted archaeological exploration would enable the historian to better appreciate the development of Christianity at Thuburbo. It is interesting that at the end of the fourth century the known churches were located in decommissioned temples. Does the fact that the churches were inserted into disused temples indicate that the city was still so vibrant that this was the only way that the Christian community could place its religious buildings anywhere near the centre? Alternatively does it indicate that the Christian community at Thuburbo was not wealthy enough to put up its own structures and had to make do with the conversion of those of its religious enemies or, third, were they were making ideological statements? Certainly the building works suggest that the city was not substantially poorer than in the preceding period. This would suggest that conversion here was not an expression of poverty and it could in fact be an indication of the city’s wealth but without the evidence of other Christian structures at the city it is impossible to say.

Throughout the late third and fourth centuries some public buildings were kept up to standard by the process of restoration. Under the tetrarchy works were executed in the proscaenium of the theatre at the expense of the city.167 During the reign of Constantius II and Julian the Triumphal Arch was restored after the intervention of the proconsul, Q. Clodius Hermogenianus Olybrius, who was a patron of the colony and further works were undertaken on it between 367 and 392 after the intervention of the consular of

163 Courtois suggests that tribes based on Mount Zaghouan destroyed Thuburbo Maius during the fifth century but there is nothing in the archaeological record to accord with this Courtois 1955, 123. Lepelley observes the Zaghouan range was far too small to support Libyan tribes capable of defying Roman and then Vandal authority. Lepelley 1981, 41. 164 This lack of knowledge is demonstrated in figure 8 where there are very few labelled structures. 165 Lancel 1999, 259 believed that Hecatompylos ‘must’ be Theveste. Desanges only believes that they were: ‘probablement’ the same town (Desanges 1978, 187). The evidence is, at best, vague. Diodorus Siculus IV.18.1 and XXIV.10.2; Polybius I.73.1. Neither of these two sources ever link Hecatompylos to Theveste. 166 Lepelley 1981, 185-186; Gascou 1982a, 173 167 Lepelley 1981, 186. I.L. Alg., I, 3051 = CIL VIII 1862.

This case study has clearly demonstrated considerable continuity of attitude towards public building and the expression of wealth through the beautification of town houses into the late Roman 161 162

Duval 1973a, 265-296. See the Sbeitla and Tipasa case studies.

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Numidia.168 At some period during the late Empire an inscription was erected to commemorate the restoration of a baths; early fourth-century mosaics were laid in the Great Baths; and an excavation on the amphitheatre in the 1960s suggests that this was restored during the late third or fourth century.169 Three other fragmentary inscriptions relating to restorations of public buildings are also known from the period.170 Taken together these seven inscriptions and two excavations suggest that the Thevestan population were keeping the monuments of the city up to scratch.

while a terminus ante quem is provided by the tomb of a young boy in the chapel of 508.176 The architectural style of the majority of the basilica, chapel and the principal buildings links this church to the Church of Cresconius at Cuicul, described below, and dated to the late fourth/early fifth century and the Church of Benian dated between 434 and 439.177 Finally, the mosaics in the Theveste church seem to parallel those of Church II at Sufetula and that of Orléansville suggesting a date of the fifth century.178 Frend has suggested that this complex was the Donatist Episcopal group for the town but the evidence for this, which has been discussed earlier, shows that this identification is fragile.179 Indeed Duval is not even sure that it is possible to say that it was an episcopal group at all.180 It is certainly the case that the presence of a baptistery does not necessarily point to a bishop’s residence and given the lack of monasticism in North Africa it seems most likely that this was a martyr church, possibly with additional episcopal features. The trefoil chapel and its martyr inscription, which mentions the Saints Heraclius, Donatus, Zebboc, Secundianus, Victorianus, Publicia and Meggen, are indicative of a martyr church while the cells that lined the external wall could have functioned as accommodation for pilgrims.181 The Christian community at Theveste had at least two of their own martyrs that could have been honoured in the monument: Maximilian, a new recruit to the III Augusta martyred in 295 but buried in Carthage and Crispina, a lady from the town of Thacora (modern Toura), executed in 304 along with her companions.182 Février has pointed out that some of the names of her companions in the Calendars are similar to those on the mosaic and in his Approches du Maghreb Romain he asserts that the church was dedicated to Crispina.183 This hypothesis could be supported by Crispina’s status as she appears not just to be a local martyr but appears to have had a wider significance to the African Church as Augustine preached at least two sermons in her honour. Such a martyr and her companions might attract pilgrims justifying such a large structure.184 Despite this Février may be showing too much confidence in

The Christian Church was established early at the city and had a presence there from at least the third until the sixth centuries. The Donatists and the Catholics were both represented at the Council of Carthage in 411, the former by Perseverantius and the latter by Urbicus.171 Christians in the city were further split by the fact that the Donatist bishop of Theveste was the only Numidian episcopus to join the Maximianist party at the outbreak of that schism in 393; he was then officially deposed with the others in 394 and a new Donatist bishop was consecrated against him.172 The importance of Christianity in the city is demonstrated, in Figure 8, by the presence of a massive Christian complex on the outskirts of the city. The basilica was forty-six by twenty-two metres and had a trefoil chapel; a baptistery; an atrium; a monumental stairway leading down to a porticoed avenue with a monumental gate at either end; a vast porticoed square associated with a large building on its western side; and a Byzantine chapel.173 Around the outside of the basilica were numerous small rooms of unknown use and a large wall, which had towers built into it, surrounded the entire complex.174 This was a huge construction that must have cost an enormous amount of money over a considerable period of time. Gsell suggests at least three late Roman phases.175 Certainly a terminus post quem is provided by a coin of 388, found in what appears to have been a foundation deposit in the basilica, and coins of Arcadius, from the area of the martyr chapel, 168 Lepelley 1981, 186. I.L. Alg., I, 3052 = CIL VIII 16505 = 1860; A.E., 1930, 56. 169 Lepelley 1981, 188. I.L. Alg., I, 3056 = CIL VIII 16538. According to Dunbabin the early fourth century is the most likely date for the Mosaic of the Games and the Triumph of the Marine Venus. Dunbabin 1978, 74. 170 Lepelley 1981, 187. I.L. Alg., I, 3054 = CIL VIII 1895. I.L. Alg., I, 3053 = CIL VIII 16540. I.L. Alg., I, 3055 = CIL VIII 27849. 171 Gesta Coll. Carth., I.135.139 172 Cf. the Letter of the Council of Cebarsussa. 173 Gsell 1901, 265-290 174 Gsell 1901, 280, 283-4; Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 311316. 175 Gsell 1901, 265-288.

176

Gsell 1901, 273; Février 1968, 172; Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 311-316. 177 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 315-316. 178 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 315-316. 179 See the discussion on defining sectarian churches. Frend 1952, 190. 180 Duval 1989a, 355 and 364 181 Duval, Y. 1982, 123-128; 695. 182 Acta Maximiliani, 1.1 and 3.4 Acta Sanctae Crispina, 1.1. 183 Monceaux 1912, III 159-160. Février 1990, 29 and Duval, Y. 1982, II 694-5 support the link with Crispina. 184 August. Serm.., 286.2 and 354.5

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the evidence and his earlier statement that the link of the basilica with Crispina remains a hypothesis is probably closer to the truth.185

both continuity of urban lifestyle and transformation of religious adherence in this period.

Whatever the function of the church its effect upon the city would have been dramatic. It was simply so huge that it must have created a focus of Christian worship and pride that would have stood starkly in opposition to the old monumental heart of the city. This would have been the case whether the church was placed at the edge of the old town for that purpose or not, clearly it could have been established on the town’s periphery for reasons of size alone. If it were a martyr church, especially being on such a scale, its presence at the city would have almost certainly meant that pilgrims would have attended it and indeed the plethora of small rooms around the perimeter of the complex could well have been used for housing pilgrims to the church. Pilgrimage would undoubtedly have benefited the city economically as an influx of Christians would have meant that the business of baths-houses, hostelries, inns and food shops increased.

Sufetula (Sbeitla) Sufetula is similar to Ammaedara in the extent and nature of both its excavation and the present knowledge about its buildings and their relationships to each other. In the case of Sufetula more buildings are known in detail as is demonstrated by the site plan in Figure 9 and 11. Duval has produced a series of articles and books in the last forty years that examine the churches and development of the city over time producing much chronological information and detail on the relationship between buildings; these will greatly facilitate the present study.188 The city of Sufetula appears, in its regular grid plan and the complete lack of pre-Roman remains, to have been a creation ex nihilo although its date is unknown. It may have been founded as municipium under the Flavians, as many Flauii are known from epitaphs and there are no pre-Flavian inscriptions from the city.189 It was certainly an honorary colony by the time of Alexander Severus.190 During the early Empire an amphitheatre, a theatre, more than one set of baths; a forum with three temples which probably constituted the Capitol, and at least two other temples were constructed; this monumental ensemble demonstrates that the town was wealthy and quite populous during the early Empire. Sufetula’s urban area certainly expanded during the third century. These expansions can be roughly dated by the presence of a Severan Arch at the extreme edge of the northwestern suburb and the Tetrarchic Arch at the edge of the southeastern suburb and fourth to sixth century houses in the suburbs.191

No other Christian structure at Theveste is securely but identified Gsell thought that the temple near the Arch of Caracalla had been converted into a church in the Byzantine period on the basis that Christian tombs were found behind the enclosure wall and possibly that a chapel had been placed into the western baths.186 Renier also reported seeing two other churches in the interior of the Byzantine fortress that sat over the centre of the town on the site of the later French settlement.187 Given the lack of secure data on these conversions it is impossible to say much about the Christianisation of the Thevestan urban landscape, although it would not be a surprise if there were buildings being converted for Christian use. There must have been other churches at Theveste apart from the northern complex as the Donatists, Catholics, and Maximianists all had a bishop at the city at one stage or another during the late fourth century.

Not only was the city expanding into the late period but Sufetula also demonstrates the presumption among at least some of the aristocracy of the town in favour of the continuance of Classical ideology by the construction and restoration of several monuments. Such a presumption would have an ideological imperative to spend the money in this way and it may have been partly due to innate North African conservatism, which will be

Although Theveste has only been sporadically excavated with very partial results there are some conclusions that can be drawn. Throughout the fourth and early fifth centuries Theveste displays considerable spending on various projects, which must demonstrate considerable wealth in the city. Furthermore the dedication of at least a substantial portion of its populace to Christianity can be deduced from the massive Christian site on the city’s periphery. The city, then, evinces

188

Duval 1971a; Duval 1971b; Duval 1973a, 265-296. Duval 1982a, 596-632. Duval 1990, 495-535. 189 CIL VIII 23220 to 23225 and I.L.Afr. 136. The Quirina dominated at the city and that was the tribe that Vespasian assigned to his municipia. Broughton 1929, 102; Gascou 1982a, 162 and 1982b, 304-5. 190 Lepelley 1981, 308. 191 Duval 1982a, 613-614. See Figure 10 for changes to Sbeitla’s topography in the Late Roman period.

185

Février 1968, 189-190. Gsell 1901, I.137 and II.291-2. 187 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 311; Gsell 1901, 291. 186

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discussed at length in the following chapter. The large baths in the west of the city were remodelled at this period, a process that included the restoration of the large swimming pool, but the reconstruction cannot be securely dated.192 The triumphal arch in honour of the tetrarchs was probably built in honour of Maximian’s victory over the Quinquegentani and at least one fountain was built between 364 and 367 although, on the basis of construction techniques, two others are likely to have been built at this time too.193 The theatre was either constructed, or in all probability restored, during the fourth century probably before 354-5 if Lepelley’s identification of the Volusianus mentioned in the inscription is indeed C. Ceionius Rufus Volusianus.194 There are three other fragments of late Roman inscriptions that suggest public works, one under Gratian, but what they relate to is impossible to know.195

of the urban area is the first of these two temple conversions, although this is more assumption than established fact due to the almost total destruction of the earlier remains, but it was certainly built over an earlier porticoed building. In its latest, Byzantine, phase prior to its destruction it was a double church linked by a baptistery with a set of baths and ancillary buildings to its north that were undoubtedly part of the complex. Basilica I (or the Church of Bellator) was constructed during the late fourth century judging by the coins found in its interior stratigraphy.197 It had a long subsequent history demonstrating its central importance to Sufetula’s Christian community with phases of the late fifth to the early sixth century, of the late sixth century and a later phase than that.198 Associated with Basilica I is the so-called Chapel of Jucundus, which is actually a baptistery and also dates to the late fourth century. The presence of this structure seems to confirm that this was indeed the cathedral. The epitaph of Jucundus, alongside that of other bishops, in the baptistery confirms that it was a Catholic church as Jucundus was Catholic bishop of Sufetula at councils in 411 and 419.199

As with Ammaedara, there was no wall-circuit at the city, again in the synthesis on the North African cities it will be important to consider quite why, when a set of walls was such a characteristic of the late Roman city, these settlements did not construct them. Despite the evidence of late Roman constructions there is little evidence at Sufetula of the municipal institutions and whether they continued into the fourth century and beyond. The two examples of inscriptions that might demonstrate the continuance of the municipal administration late into the Roman era are a duoviralicius mentioned on an inscription from a door lintel alongside a Christian citation that appears to be of the fourth or fifth centuries and an early fourth century statue base dedicated to the town’s patron M. Ael[ius?] Candidianus, a governor of a province, by a local flamen perpetuus who had become a curator reipublicae.196

Basilica II (or the Church of Vitalis) appears to be contemporary with the second phase of Basilica I and with a new mosaic for Jucundus’ epitaph. There are certainly links between Basilica II phase one mosaics and those of Basilica I state two.200 Clearly at some stage in the Vandal occupation or slightly later a Christian community, and for that period we have the added complication of Vandal Arians, had the power and the wealth to expand the church at the expense of adjacent buildings and, if the building was still in use at that period, whatever activities it housed.

It is noticeable that the monuments that are reconstructed or built in this period do not include specifically pagan monuments such as temples. For whatever reason the Sufetulan population were not refurbishing their built religious heritage. Certainly the most obvious trend involving temples in this period is their conversion into Christian structures with at least one and possibly two pagan temples becoming churches in the course of the fourth and fifth centuries. The Basilica I/II complex at the heart

Jucundus’ evidence at the Council of Carthage where he stated that his Donatist competitor was an invention could be taken as proof that the Donatist’s were too weak in the city to build such a complex. This may be true but given some of the insults that were flying around at the Council we should not necessarily take a Catholic bishop’s word for it.201 The church is in a central area of the town, which Figure 10 clearly shows is part of the original grid of the town and is on a through-road from the northwest suburb into the

192 Duval 1982a, 613. Lepelley 1981, 310. I.L. Afr., 141; CIL VIII 11334 = 242 + I.L. Afr., 116. 193 CIL VIII 11329, Lepelley 1981, 310 194 Lepelley, 310. CIL VIII 11329 = 234 + A.E., 1958, 158. Although Duval 1982a, 613 proposes that it took place under a Diocletianic governor. 195 I.L. Afr. 133 CIL VIII 242, 11330 Lepelley 1981, 310-11 196 Duval 1990, 512. Lepelley 1981, 310 A.E., 1954, 59.

197

Duval 1971b, 85. Duval 1971b, 87. 199 Duval 1971b, 133. 200 Duval 1971b, 293-294. 201 Duval 1971b, 294. Gesta Coll. Carth. Jucundus’ competitor was Titianus. 198

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city centre. The complex, which was eventually quite substantial, would have been an impressive sight for visitors to the town who wished to walk into the forum area or to the main baths or theatre from that suburb. The fact that to create this complex an earlier porticoed building had to be removed suggests that this monumental aspect of the complex was a major part of the church’s positioning whether or not the earlier building had been a temple.

community could have built their cathedral on a central location following a natural disaster but there is no particular need to postulate such a cause; they could simply have used a building that had been abandoned for more prosaic reasons of upkeep costs or one that was no longer needed in its current form. The other main basilica in the centre of Sufetula, church III, was situated within a temple and its court close to the forum. The temple was converted for Christian use at the end of the fourth century when a basilica was placed into its court.205 The cella was not utilised for the main part of the church, its small size (under a hundred square metres) meant that this was impractical, but it did have a baptistery inserted into it at some stage of its history.206 This change in use was dramatic both in form and ideology but similar processes also took place at African cities such as Thuburbo Maius, Timgad and Tipasa.207 This large basilica with a baptistery and associated rooms might be considered to be the Donatist Cathedral due to the identification of the Catholic one, the presence of a baptistery and the structure’s size (although if we bear in mind what Jucundus had to say about the Donatists at Sufetula this might be a reason against proposing that hypothesis). Another reason why we might be tempted to make this identification is that the Donatists were renowned for their direct action against pagan cult and the appropriation of a temple might be seen as a manifestation of that.208 However this use of a temple, especially if it was already damaged or abandoned, may reflect the secular administration, populace or Church’s wish to continue the use of a monument in the city centre even if it was for a different purpose. If this was the case then it was just as likely to have been Catholic as Donatist. In the end Jucundus’ testimony at the Council of Carthage, although heavily biased, is the best evidence for the state of the Donatist sect at Sufetula and perhaps would suggest that Donatism was not strong enough in the town to secure so important a structure as the Temple/Church for their own use.

The porticoed structure had been destroyed and demolished prior to the site’s conversion for Christian use as also happened with other Christian constructions within the town, Duval connects this destruction with the earthquake and tsunami of the 21 July 365 that is alleged to have caused much damage in the eastern Mediterranean basin.202 This explanation seems highly unlikely. Although some scholars, such as Di Vita, have argued for widespread destruction in Africa caused by the earthquake on the 21st July 365 Jacques, Bousquet and Lepelley have convincingly detached much damage in Africa, which is known to have occurred in the mid fourth century, from that quake.203 Lepelley and Kelly have rightly also recently cautioned against using the historical texts to demonstrate a Mediterranean wide seismic crisis in 365.204 Given that this debate is less important for Sufetula than cities such as Sabratha and Lepcis I will only make specific points about the porticoed structure and the earthquake here and expand upon its implications for Sabratha and Lepcis later. The distance between Africa and the earthquake’s Cretan epicentre means that any earthquake originating in that region that could destroy buildings in Sufetula, around fourteen hundred kilometres away, would have been an unprecedented catastrophe that would have levelled areas closer to it and would have made an even greater impression on contemporary literary sources than it did. It is more likely that Sufetula could have suffered earthquake damage if there was an extended period of seismic activity around the Mediterranean basin around 365 of which that of the 21 July 365 was a part. A more localised disaster could have hit Sufetula and destroyed the porticoed building but left no mark in the sources in a way that a massive single destructive episode across North Africa would have done. However, this debate is largely hypothetical for Sufetula. The Christian

Basilica IV is the third of the ecclesiastical structures that was inserted into the remains of an earlier building, probably a judicial basilica, during the later fourth century. As we have described above and will develop in detail later with specific regard to North Africa, the development of a secular basilica into a Christian

202

Duval 1982a, 596-632. See also the Lepcis Magna and Sabratha case studies. Kenrick 1986; Jacques and Bousquet 1984, 423-461; Lepelley 1984, 463-91; Ambraseys, 1994, 10-12. The earthquake is frequently cited as a potential cause of destruction in Africa – e.g. in a discussion of Carthage’s Antonine basilica Gros 1985, 113. 204 Kelly 2004, 141-167; Lepelley 2001, 203-214. 203

205

Figure 10. Giordani 2002, 2059-2066 Duval 1973a, 265-296. 207 See the relevant case studies, Duval 1973a, 265-296, Teichner 1996, 58-60; and Caillet 1996, 198. 208 See below pp. 99-100. 206

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one was a relatively common change and had its own set of ideological factors associated with it.209 Its position in the very centre of the town certainly emphasises the dominance of Christianity at Sufetula from at least the late fourth century onwards. It is impossible to say much about the towns other basilicas. They are situated on the outskirts of the urban area, but as martyr and cemetery churches this is what we might expect. Certainly we cannot make any points about Christian or municipal philosophy from them.

much to consider. The churches’ location in terms of their relationship to the rest of the town and pagan monuments must have been carefully weighed up and may reflect the philosophy of the Christian community with regard to the world at large as discussed above. Cuicul (Djemila) Cuicul was excavated in the early twentieth century, which again impacts on the reliability of the results and interpretations based upon them. Additionally the only city plan that we have is of the city’s incarnation in the fifth century. Furthermore, there has been little archaeological work done on the city since Algerian independence due to the unpredictable nature of the political situation there. More modern research on previous archaeological results from Cuicul does demonstrate change in the city over time, for instance Blanchard-Lemeé’s work on the city’s mosaics shows the change in use of the temples, the evolution of domestic architecture and the creation of baths during the course of the fourth and fifth centuries.210

Sufetula was certainly a wealthy city during this period. Its population contributed to the erection of an episcopal group and two other urban churches, three cemetery churches, three fountains, an arch, the remodelling of the main baths and either the construction or reconstruction of the theatre. In the space of a century this is a considerable outlay, especially considering that much of the city has yet to be archaeologically explored. It indicates several important ideological expressions on the part of those who contributed money to these projects, for the secular structures individual benefactors and for the churches the entire Christian community or, again, private donors. First, whatever the type of building was, the people who constructed it must have thought that it was a worthwhile endeavour; such a decision is not an unconscious one it is a pre-planned, well thought out project. Certainly the new constructions would have required architects, specialised craftsmen and labourers as well as a source of material to accomplish them; the organisation of these varied groups in a premodern age without the benefit of modern communications was a substantial project in itself. Even the remodelling of the theatre or baths would have required much forethought. This effort would only have occurred in the case of the secular constructions if the tradition of euergetism was still felt to confer status upon the donor, this in itself implies that the city was a viable concept; it indicates vitality of city life among a section of the upper classes at least.

Cuicul is an example of a Roman town that was implanted onto a virgin territory, something that no doubt helped to condition the way that it developed. The evidence points to the city being a foundation of Nerva or Trajan and was probably a colony of veterans.211 This no doubt affected the ethnic make-up of the town and the relationship of the population with that of its rural hinterland possibly even into the fourth and fifth centuries. The city’s development would also have been affected by its position at the northern end of a spur between the Oued Guergour and the Oued Betame.212 Its logical development then was southwards from the initial site and it gradually expanded in that direction over the course of several centuries, this spatial layout created a long narrow town shape as Figures 11 and 12 clearly show. The initial Roman city was walled as befitted its status as a colonia, although the effectiveness of the wall circuit was ruined somewhat in the late period when a civil basilica cut through it. This damage to the city wall, in both its monumental and its defensive aspects, again demonstrates a difference in tradition between those areas to the north of the Mediterranean and some cities of North Africa in terms of wall building and maintenance in the late Roman period.

For the Christian community at Sufetula the inclination to build places of worship was simpler, they were simply necessary in order to have somewhere to congregate and fulfil the various aspects of the Christian religion. The basilical format was already the established church type throughout the Empire so in terms of contemplating its construction technique there was little thought necessary but in terms of dimensions, orientation and location there was

210

Blanchard-Lemeé 1975 It had decurions by 107 (CIL VIII 8315) Lepelley 1981, 402. Gascou 1982a, 177. 212 Février 1964, 4. 211

209

Duval 1982a, 618.

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complex in the south of the city.217 The southern section of these baths was abandoned at some stage but its mosaics were restored in the course of the fourth century.218 There is then another gap in the epigraphic record until the governor, Publilius Caeionius Caecina Albinus, dedicated the judicial basilica in the Severan forum between 364 and 367. It subsequently gained its tribunal and a statue of Victory in 367.219 Again in 364-7 the town received a basilica vestiaria courtesy of the clarissimus, Rutilius Saturninus, while between 367 and 375 the governor of Numidia dedicated another basilica in the town, although its location is unknown.220 The theatre was restored or developed at the time of Valentinian I, Valens and Gratian (367-375), which not only confirms the continuation of acts of euergetism but it also indicates that theatrical performances were still continuing late into the fourth century.221 Finally an un-identified building was dedicated between 383-392.222 It is interesting to note that the city’s epigraphy demonstrates that one of the town’s principal families, the Rutilii, despite being elevated to the level of honorati, continued with their municipal duties and generous euergetism.

The city does demonstrate an expanding urban area throughout the Roman era. The oldest part of the town, enclosed by its city walls, was constructed during the late first/second century. The oldest inscription from the town was found in the forum and dates to AD 157. In the years around 150-70 the basilica, forum and market were erected, sometime before 205 the curia was also constructed, and at some time during this period an arch was constructed over the cardo and the Temple to Venus Genetrix was built.213 Also, during the second century, houses were constructed around the walls on the hill flanks; a theatre was constructed; and to the southeast a triumphal arch was dedicated to the emperor, Fortune and Mars. Finally, in the reign of Commodus a large baths were built two hundred metres to the south of the wall circuit but whether the baths and the second century House of Bacchus in this region remained isolated for a long time is currently unknown.214 Certainly their distance to the south seems odd if there were no housing between the wall and the baths but later developments seem to indicate that this was the case. Under the Severans a huge, irregular semiporticoed forum was constructed immediately outside of the early wall-circuit as was an Arch of Caracalla, dated to 216, and a temple adjacent to the square that were constructed in 229.215 Of course, the whole could be a pre-planned complex of monuments that took several years to complete. The presence of this forum and associated buildings right outside the walls of the old town does suggest that it had been empty of buildings before this period. Indeed there is, at present, no archaeological evidence that would suggest that the area had been built on prior to the construction of the Severan forum. This would suggest that apart from the baths and a few other buildings around it the advance south was later than the early third century. Of course that leaves around two centuries until the construction of an ecclesiastical complex in the early fifth century in the southern part of the town; whether this area was built on gradually or in spurts is not known.216

Monumental buildings were not only constructed during this period but were also destroyed and sometimes replaced by new structures. During the late Empire the House of the Donkey encroached upon the precinct of the Temple of Venus Genetrix.223 The house itself had its large hall and baths extended in the period demonstrating expansion and regeneration in the fourth century and later at the expense of unnecessary and out-of-date structures. As Blanchard-Lemée points out this means that not only was the temple not in use but the laws against damaging a sanctuary were no longer respected.224 Elsewhere in the town the Temple of Frugifer (Saturn) was in ruins when the judicial basilica, mentioned above, and the House of Hylas were placed over it between 364 and 367; stele from the temple were then reemployed in paving the road between the old city 217

Fevrier 1968b, 70-1. Lepelley 1981, 404 citing B.C.T.H., 1911, 110 and A.E., 1920, 15. 218 Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 233-4. 219 Albertini 1943, 376-393; Février 1982a, 371; Février 1964, 14-26. A.E., 1946, 107 and 108. 220 Lepelley 1981, 404, citing I.L.S., 5535 and 5536; Février 1964, 13. 221 Lepelley 1981, 408, CIL VIII 20157 = 10896; Février 1964, 29-33. 222 Jouffroy 1986, 292; A.E., 1913, 23. The building was dedicated under the auspices of Caecina Decius Albinus Iunior and the curator Rutilio Urbano (?). 223 Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 46 and 60. See Figure 12. 224 Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 46; Albertini 1943, 377-380; several inscriptions from the temple are incorporated into the structure of the basilica.

Following the construction of the Severan Temple in 229 there is a lacuna in non-miliary inscriptions until 281, when a portico in the forum was rebuilt, and 295, when the tetrarchic fountain was placed against the large bath 213

Février 1964, 9 Février 1964, 8-9. 215 Février 1964, 10. 216 A Temple of Tellus may have sat on the hill that later housed the ecclesiastical complex but its date is unknown and what impact that has on the dating of the city’s expansion is unknown. Blanchard-Lemeé 1975, 46. 214

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and the small baths.225 The Temple of Tellus, situated on the hill of the Christian quarter was out of use before three large blocks containing its dedication were used in constructing the north basilica, the cornices of the Capitol were reused in the monumental gate of the Christian quarter (although this could have occurred in the Byzantine period) and the temple to the south of the House of the Donkey was raised and few architectural elements remain.226 Out of the purely religious sphere stele from the forum were moved to new locations before the middle of the fourth century.227

baths, again in the late fourth century, also seems to demonstrate the continued desire amongst the elite for comfortable town houses. The bath conversion also shows that at Cuicul the encroachment onto public property was not limited to pagan structures in the late fourth century.231 When put alongside the destruction and re-use of various temples, and the construction of new baths this example manifests a complex process of urban evolution in the city in the second half of the fourth century. Cuicul also demonstrates economic and official continuity into this period. The construction of the basilica vestiaria clearly demonstrates that there was a need for a special clothes market in the city in the fourth century either because there was not enough room for the clothes stalls in their previous home or perhaps an earlier structure needed replacing. Whatever the cause of the construction of the basilica vestiaria its presence shows that economic life at Cuicul was still strong in this period and needed to be catered for. At the same time the city demonstrates the persistence of official titles into the late period where five donors with the title of flamen supervised the construction of the judicial basilica over earlier remains; Tullius Maximus, the restorer of the porticoed construct in the Severan forum, was a Roman knight and perpetual flamen; and M. Rutilius Felix Felicianus an eques, pontifex, and curator restored the public fountains.232 The maintenance of the municipal tradition in the late Empire at Cuicul is also witnessed to by the inscriptions in the mosaic of the north basilica, which include dedications by four imperial functionaries, two uiri honesti and a sacerdotalis.233 So not only was there the maintenance of tradition in the creation or repair of civic buildings but also by the continued use of official titles.

Along with the construction or reconstruction of some municipal monuments and the destruction of others, several houses within the town were restored or altered in the fourth and fifth centuries. The mosaic of Venus in the House of the Donkey was laid sometime after the midfourth century while the mosaic of Asinus Nica in the frigidarium of the house may have been constructed after the Vandal invasion but prior to the Byzantine re-conquest. The House of Amphitrite had a mosaic very similar in its decoration to one in the apse of the House of the Donkey for which we have a terminus post quem of AD 350. The House of Europa in the old town has fourth century pavements; and the large House of Bacchus in the new quarter was also altered in the late fourth to mid-fifth century gaining a hunt mosaic in its multi-apsidal hall.228 Finally, the House of Europa, the House of the Ass and the House of Castorius all had new bathsuites constructed during the fourth century, which seems to demonstrate that while there was a desire to improve the civic landscape the town’s aristocracy also wished to live luxurious, comfortable and above all private lives.229 Impressing ones friends and clients in an intimate setting was just as important as impressing the general populace, certainly the baths in the House of Europa had entrances into the house onto the street implying use by clients and friends as well as the family.230 There is little doubt then that the wealthy members of the population of Cuicul, up to and past the end of the Roman period, were investing money in their town houses. The conversion of the small baths near the Severan forum into a house and private 225

The topography of the city was substantially altered by the advent of Christianity. The most obvious edifice of the Christian epoch is the large episcopal complex at the southern edge of the town also known as the Church of Cresconius (Cresconius being the Catholic bishop of the city in 411).234 Figure 12 illustrates that this series of structures, constructed during the late fourth or 231

Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 172. Allais 1953, 64 See Figure

Allais 1953, 62-64. The conversion is dated to the late fourth century for several reasons. First, the coin series in the baths ends with Valens; second, capitals of the fourth century were found in the complex; third, a new exit associated with the phase of re-use was contemporaneous with the re-paving of the street to the north of the baths, which made use of votive stele from the Temple of Saturn. 232 Lepelley 1981, 404. 233 Lepelley 1981, 404-405 and 411-412. 234 Gesta Coll. Carth., I.121.16. ‘Cresconius bishop of the Cuiculitanian church … said “I had a bishop against me; he has died (left his body)”’ (my trans.).

12. 226 Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 46. 227 Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 128, 93 228 Blanchard-Lemée 1975, 46 and 60. Blanchard-Lemée dates the mosaic of Asinus Nica to the Byzantine period but this appears to be solely due to the fairly pervasive ‘Vandals as uncultured destroyers of all civilisation’ attitude. Blanchard-Lemée 1984, 131; Dunbabin 1978, 62. 229 Blanchard-Lemée 1984, 29-32, 58-9, 85-100, 140-151, 161-6; Thébert 2003, 199-202; Allais, 1939, 35-44. 230 Fentress 1989, 335-6.

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early fifth centuries, would have dominated its quarter providing a focus for the Christian community of the city and perhaps a sense of a multi-focal site involving the old and new forums and this religious complex. The construction of the monumental gate and processional way, the bishop’s palace, two churches, a chapel, a baptistery and a baths were a substantial undertaking that must have had a profound effect on what the town’s population viewed as being key to the urban fabric and must also have had a psychological impact on both Christians and pagans. Its implantation into the south of the town certainly had a direct effect on a temple, possibly of Tellus, which was removed to make way for the churches although for how long the temple had been out of use prior to that is unknown.235 The complex could be seen as being in direct competition with the existing urban topography due to its location in its own quarter to the south of the old city. The multi-focal aspect of the site could give this impression but the fact that those who paid for the construction of the north basilica were in fact members of the town’s aristocracy, and apparently relatives of people who had constructed earlier municipal monuments, suggests that the population of the town had simply moved into constructing impressive Christian monuments in the early fifth century rather than secular ones. So although there may have been a competition for funds the concept of diametrically opposed secular and Christian centres within the town maybe an exaggeration.236

Indeed little can be said about the dating of the church as a whole, the construction of the martyrium seems to be similar to the apse of the basilica in the new forum but beyond dating it to some time after the early fourth century, and that repairs were undertaken in the seventh century, we can say little more.238 The final basilica lay three hundred metres to the east of the episcopal group and was built sometime before 452 when an epitaph of a clarissima femina, Ponponia Rusticula, was erected. Apart from attesting to the wealth of the Christian community at Cuicul who, between the late fourth and early fifth centuries AD, could afford the construction of five churches and their associated structures this epitaph also demonstrates that there were still people of senatorial rank in this region of Africa even after the Vandal conquest.239 There were then several simultaneous processes occurring at Cuicul during the late Empire. Some buildings were repaired and others were constructed. Some of these buildings had work done on them as they were necessary for the continued economic and civic life of the town. Religious motives also led the Cuiculitanian population to build five churches and associated structures, but to allow the destruction or steady dilapidation of the town’s temples. The construction of church complexes would obviously have had a major religious impact on the city also contributed to the economic life of the town as a wide variety of artisans and labourers would have been needed in their construction. Cuicul also demonstrates that, unlike the provinces north of the Mediterranean, there was a substantial population of wealthy individuals during the fourth century and later who were prepared to invest money in their urban properties, to pay for the construction of new structures, serve as municipal dignitaries and proudly display their titles on their dedications. This small town was flourishing, but also developing into something different from its classical origins, in this period. Its topography was Christianised to some extent although to what extent this process in the physical world was echoed in the psyche of the city’s inhabitants is impossible to judge.

Elsewhere in the town a Christian basilica was placed just inside the southwestern corner of the old walls.237 Tombs were present around and inside the basilica and its dependencies, although it is not clear whether this was true from the beginning of the group’s life. The presence of tombs within the city’s walls suggests substantial changes in the psychology of the town’s population, as this was not an act permitted by Roman law. The date of this change in ideology cannot be ascertained from the tombs however. 235

Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 92-3. Lepelley 1981, 404 and 412. The seven donors of the mosaic were Pomponius Rusticus, Flavius Veclus, Tullius Adeodatus, Flavius Felix, Flavius Paulus, Flavius Uranius and Flavius Rusticanus. It is possible, as Lepelley suggests, that a couple of these individuals come from Cuiculitanian families that are attested elsewhere in the epigraphy. Pomponius Rusticus may be related to Pomponius Pudentianus and Domitius Rusticus who helped construct the judicial basilica between 364 and 367; to Flavius Rusticanus and to Ponponia Rusticula the young girl mentioned above. Tullius Adeodatus may be related to Tullius Prestantius another who contributed to the judicial basilica. These inscriptions show the continuity of families as well as the urban topography in the fourth and fifth centuries. 237 See Figure 12. 236

Thamugadi (Timgad) Thamugadi is perhaps the most extensively excavated site in the African provinces with the exception of Carthage. Excavated during the late nineteenth to early twentieth centuries a cursory 238 239

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Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 100-1. Lepelley 1981, 414.

examination of the excavations shows that in much less than twenty years virtually the entire city was uncovered. Of course this means, as previously discussed, that the dating material was generally ignored and that the exposure of the buildings was the prime consideration of the archaeologists.240 Unlike many other cities in North Africa, principally in Tunisia, there has not been much modern work on the city. Because of the lack of trustworthy datable remains beyond the indications given by the inscriptions it is difficult to reconstruct the developmental processes within the town except in vague and generalised terms.

The Severan era saw further civic expansion. The so-called ‘Arch of Trajan’, the Market of Sertius, the Capitol and the monumental sanctuary around the source of Aqua Septimiana Felix were all constructed at this time; the first three of which abutted the original colony.245 At this period several large houses also appear to have been constructed such as that to the north of the ‘Catholic’ cathedral. Sometime after the Severan period the library was constructed. Lepelley is probably correct in arguing for a construction date before the reign of Gallienus as the dedicatory inscription made reference to sestertii.246

The Colonia Marciana Traiana Thamugadi was a veteran colony established by Trajan in AD 100, apparently ex nihilo, although the toponym of Thamugadi is pre-Roman.241 The original foundation was based on a geometrical plan of circa 355 metres on each side with regular insulae in the interior of the Trajanic wall as Figures 13 and 14 clearly demonstrate. The problem with the plan produced by Ballu is that it only reveals the city as it stood in the fifth century with some Byzantine additions. While this may be useful in demonstrating the state of the city towards its end it makes it more difficult to examine the city’s evolution. Figures 13 and 15 are reconstructions of the city in the late third and early fifth centuries respectively. Obviously the initial plan was Trajanic and the city developed out from there during the course of the second and third centuries. Fentress hypothesises that the insulae of the city were divided differently with the bulk being divided into eight units, some divided into four and others remaining undivided.242 Such a differentiation would reflect the varied statuses of veterans established in the city and indicates that as at Cosa rank and social hierarchy could be expressed in the built environment. Under Marcus Aurelius and Lucius Verus, between 166 and 169, two monumental gates were constructed on the roads to Lambaesis and Mascula three hundred and two hundred metres out from the city respectively.243 Lepelley states that this implies a doubling in the urban space in the space of little over half a century in the east-west dimension but this expansion can only have occurred along the main roads and even there later buildings went right up to the earlier colonia.244

It seems that the greatest expansion of the urban area occurred during the fourth and fifth centuries and Figure 15 reflects this. Many of the churches built during this period were constructed at the edges of Thamugadi suggesting that at the end of the late fourth century the town had reached its greatest extent. Perhaps the largest expansion of the urban area occurred in the direction of the ‘Donatist Cathedral’ where the town almost doubled in size. Not only was there a general expansion in the urban fabric with the building of new houses but new monumental constructions were also erected during the late Empire. Between 290 and 293 a Roman eques and augur, C. Statulenius Vitalis Aquilinus built a platea and restored a bridge over one of the wadis, while later during the tetrarchy a Temple of Mercury and its porticoes were restored.247 These two examples echo inscriptions throughout Africa during the tetrarchy as large numbers of structures were restored or built. At Thamugadi there is then a lacuna in the datable inscriptions until the joint reign of Valentinian I and Valens when the four sides of the portico around the Capitol were restored at the expense of four municipal dignitaries.248 Finally, at some stage in the late Empire the Large Southern Baths were restored by the work of the ordo.249 It is clear that there were some difficulties during the fourth century with municipal life at Thamugadi. The Theodosian Code VI.22.2, issued on the 27th November 338, demonstrates that some decurions had been avoiding the munera and municipal honours by pretending to have become honorati.250 The imperial court ordered these people to fulfil their duties with a 245

Lepelley 1981, 445. Germain 1973 argued for a third or fourth century date; Lassus 1969, 26-28 believed that it was built in the fourth century; Lepelley 1981, 445. 247 Lepelley 1981, 446. B.C.T.H., 1907, p. 274. 248 Lepelley 1981, 447. CIL VIII 2388 = I.L.S., 5554 249 Lepelley 1981, 447. CIL VIII 2342. 250 CTh., VI.22.2. 246

240

Cf. the section on ‘Evidence’ in the introduction. CIL VIII 17842 and 17843. 242 Fentress 1979, 130-2 243 Lepelley 1981, 445. 244 Lepelley 1981, 445, n. 6. 241

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heavy fine as the penalty. Although there had been problems earlier in the century the Municipal Album of Thamugadi shows that during the reign of Julian there were at least two hundred and sixty seven members of the curia. The album mentions ten clarissimi, two (viri) perfectissimi, two sacerdotales, a curator, duoviri, thirty-nine flamines perpetui, pontifices and augures and two aediles, as well as clerics and soldiers.251 Clearly at this date the ordo was not only functioning but still contained many members and had recently been bolstered by the forced addition of several wealthy Christian clergy. This document, when set alongside literary and archaeological evidence helps to create a picture of Christians and the Christian community in the city of Thamugadi. The impact of Christianity is also demonstrated by the bronze tablet honouring Aelius Julianus on his nomination as the patron of the colony, inscribed upon the tablet were an α and an ω.252 On the Municipal Album, which appears to be earlier than this inscription, Aelius Julianus was honoured as a perpetual flamen and he had also taken part in the restoration of the porticoes around the Capitol; a Christian was prepared to hold pagan religious titles and to restore a pagan monument. 253 It is clear that religious titles of the pagan past were often secularised and used as ways of honouring the aristocracy, while some pagan monuments were viewed by some people as being worthy of repair due to their intrinsic value.

construction dedications for a generation before this date.255 Even if the epigraphical evidence does not demonstrate continuity of life into the late fourth century the archaeological material does. As has already been mentioned the city seems to have expanded throughout the fourth century and domestic improvements are widespread at Thamugadi during the fourth century as the aristocracy beautified and extended their homes. The House of Sertius, the large house to the north of the Capitol, the large house near the Baths of the Philadelphi and the House with the Baths in insula 61 all contain mosaics of, or developments during, the fourth or fifth centuries.256 The House of Corfidius Crementius also displays an inscription of the late Empire that suggests that he had had an important municipal career and commemorates his apparent restoration of the previously ruined house.257 It has been suggested that several of Thamugadi’s baths were constructed in the ‘late’ period. The dating evidence on which this is based is more secure for some bathhouses than for others. Certainly the available evidence for the Small Northern Baths seems to suggest the fourth century as the date for their construction, or at the very least repair, and the Northwest Baths may also be of the fourth century or later.258 Ballu suggests that the Small Eastern Baths are late, at least in their final phase, because of the reused inscriptions in their walls but what does this mean in North Africa?259 Inscriptions were still being erected into the midfourth century so late could mean after that; it was certainly rebuilt after the reign of Caracalla.260 The Small Northeastern Baths had encroached onto the main street that allowed circulation around the old ‘colony’ area, a fact that Ballu took to mean they were late, past the point of the breakdown of municipal authority.261 However, the fact that the walls of the colony had been pulled down by the late second century to make way for housing demonstrates that substantial changes could be made to the city’s topography with the approval of the council even if those changes might appear detrimental to modern eyes. Nielsen is probably on firmer

After 368 there are no securely dated inscriptions or even statue bases of Gratian, Valentinian II, Theodosius, Arcadius or Honorius despite the presence of fifteen dedications to emperors from Carus to Valentinian I and Valens at the city. This suggested to Lepelley that the city was experiencing major problems in the mid-fourth century, he connected this with the depredations of Optatus between 387 and 397 and the alleged failure of the authorities to contain him.254 Was the apparent decline of the municipal authorities due to his exactions and seizure of quasi-judicial powers? It is possible but it seems unlikely that over two hundred and fifty members of the curia were ruined in the space of ten years, although some decline in the ordo during the second half of the fourth century cannot be ruled out. Lepelley’s alternative explanation that the decline relates to measures taken against supporters of Gildo in 397 also has its weaknesses in that there is an absence of

255

Lepelley 1981, 108. Germain 1973, 25-6, 81 citing Ballu who identifies the children as being Christian, he does not say why. It may be that date or the presence of identifying mark on the tombs convinced him that these were Christians. 257 Lepelley 1981, 455-456. 258 Germain 1973, 11-12; Nielsen 1990, II 31. 259 Ballu 1903, 49-53; Germain 1973, 45-46; Nielsen 1990, II 30. 260 Ballu 1903, 53. 261 Ballu 1911, 111. 256

251

CIL VIII 17903; Lepelley 1981, 461-462. A.E., 1913, 25 = B.C.T.H., 1912 p. 63; Lepelley 1981: 452-455. 253 Lepelley 1981, 461-2. CIL VIII 2388 = I.L.S., 5554 254 Lepelley 1981, 471-472. 252

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ground when he points out that the capitals seem Byzantine.262 Finally the dating of the Small Central Baths, the Baths of the Capitol and the Small Southern Baths is not secure but a pavement in the former cannot really be dated until the late third century at the earliest, although it is possible that it was not part of the original phase of construction.263 The Small Southern Baths were still apparently in use at a ‘very late period’, which probably, considering their proximity to the fortress means Byzantine.264

the Lambaesis Gate, was of a date prior to the Vandal conquest and had several burials within its courtyard.268 Basilica I also had a sarcophagus within a trough in the centre of its nave containing bones, which is likely to be a reliquary.269 These cemetery churches would have been a focus of the attention of the faithful when they buried their loved ones but Basilica I, at least, is likely to have been associated with martyr or saint cult. There are two small churches within the middle of the western extension of the city. These are very loosely dated to ‘a very late period’ due to the mass of reemployed material that they contain.270 It is difficult to say much about them and their function because of this vague dating. If they are late Roman, rather than Byzantine, they may well have been regional churches serving the general religious needs of the population. If they were Byzantine it is rather more difficult to anticipate what exactly their specific use was as archaeologists are unsure as to the level of occupation within the town following the Vandal conquest. Found close to one of these was a sandstone vase bearing a chi-rho monogram and the formula bb, for bonis bene, which may well have been a Donatist slogan.271 This may imply that Basilica V was a Donatist structure. If it was, the mass of reemployed material within the church could have been due to the power of Optatus during the period 387-397 in the area and could mean that it was built in the late Roman period. It seems that, in the light of continued building at Thamugadi into the midfourth century, it could really only be in the late fourth century or later that pagan and secular monuments started to be re-used on a large scale.

Christianity certainly had a substantial effect upon the urban topography of the city with at least eleven basilicas having been built between the conversion of Constantine and the end of the Byzantine period. The multiplicity of churches must have had a major effect upon the psychology of the town’s population, the pagans would have felt under siege while Christians would have viewed their introduction as a triumph. Some of the churches would also have had a physical effect upon their environment as well, either because they were built over earlier structures, or because of their creation of new foci within the town and the effect that that would have had on patterns of life. In terms of the Catholic/Donatist struggle it is apparent that Thamugadi was one of the strongholds of the schismatics and that we may presume that a substantial number of the city’s churches were held by them. This status as a Donatist fortress is conveyed by the power of Optatus in the 380s and 90s, which has been mentioned above, but also by the intransigence of the Donatist bishop Gaudentius who threatened to burn his church and congregation rather than convert to Catholicism at the behest of the imperial commissioners.265

Only one basilica has been located within the original colony of Trajan. Basilica III, the socalled ‘Church of Januarius’, was a multi-period structure built over the remains of two earlier houses and a road. Contrary to Ballu’s belief that the basilica was not Roman, which was based largely on the fact that the church extended over the street, the basilica in its initial and largest form was pre-Vandal.272 Ballu incorrectly viewed degeneration in the urban plan, such as the construction of structures over streets, as a Byzantine phenomenon believing that the Romans would not have allowed it to happen. In this phase the church was certainly large enough to be a cathedral, as it was around thirty-three by

There is certainly a split between basilicas that were part of the urban fabric, even if they were on the town’s edge and those that lay beyond the town and were cemetery churches.266 There were at least two, late Roman, churches outside the urban area of Thamugadi.267 Basilica XI in the southern necropolis appears to have been of late Roman date while Basilica I on the road to Lambaesis, some three hundred metres outside of 262

Nielsen 1990, II 30. Germain 1973, 54, 120 and 137. 264 Germain 1973, 138. 265 August. c. litt. Pet. and c. Gaud. At the Council of Carthage in 411 Gaudentius’ competitor was Faustinianus, Gesta Coll. Carth. I.128.91. 266 The numbering of the churches follows that of Gui, Duval, and Caillet 1992. 267 Basilicas IV and X are also away from the core urban area but Basilica X is of late Byzantine date and therefore of no relevance to this discussion and Basilica IV has no evidence to date it. Gsell 1901, II, 315. 263

268 Ballu 1911, 135. Gui, Duval, and Caillet 1992, 263-5. Lassus 1969, 103. 269 Gui, Duval, and Caillet 1992, 265. 270 Ballu 1897, 234. Gui, Duval, and Caillet 1992, 271-4. Ballu 1897, 234 271 Ballu 1911, 143. 272 Gui, Duval, and Caillet 1992, 267-270. Ballu 1903, 26-30.

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twelve metres, had a court, a gallery, two sacristies, annex rooms and a baptistery. Duval feels that, during this period, a baptistery does not necessarily designate a Cathedral arguing that other clergy could baptise, meaning that churches other than those in an episcopal group might have a baptistery. 273 This argument, however, seems largely to be based on the number of baptisteries in rural areas, which Duval suggests could not have supported a bishopric. However this ignores the assertions of both Donatist and Catholic bishops, at the Council of Carthage in 411, which demonstrate the presence of bishop’s sees in sparsely populated fundi and castella.274 The size of the complex, the presence of a baptistery, and the location of the church within the old urban area could all suggest that this was one of Thamugadi’s episcopal complexes.

twenty-two metres, while perpendicular to that sat a chapel of twenty-six by seventeen metres. A house, described as the House of Optatus due to the presence of a mosaic in it mentioning that name, an atrium of twenty-two metres square, and a baptistery were all grouped around the main church.277 Surrounding these integral elements were various other structures, including a baths, which would have allowed the Christian community to function properly.278 This complex must have been extremely expensive and may reflect the power of Optatus of Thamugadi who, according to Augustine, built a large basilica in Thamugadi from which he held court.279 From the positioning of the complex it could be suggested that it was not intended to act as a public monument in the way that other basilicas that have been examined would do. If this was a Donatist establishment its peripheral position may be due to an ideology of separation from ‘The World’ as discussed in Chapter 2. The likelihood of the basilica being placed where it is due to a specifically Donatist ideology will be examined in the following chapter.

The church, as an insertion into the original colonia, had an immediate impact upon its environment. As the city and building plans show it clearly prevented movement along the earlier road and therefore must have altered patterns of movement around this part of the town. Inserted into an area that appears previously to have contained housing it must also have induced movement into the area on a regular basis by those who would otherwise have had no business there; this would be especially true if this was the cathedral. It would have dominated the quarter in which it was located by its size and use, however this was far from being a prominent area of the town and cannot be viewed as being a prestigious, monumental area. The ‘Church of Januarius’, although being located in the original colonia was not especially close to the forumtheatre monumental area.275

When it comes to the complex it would be useful if we knew the exact use of the rooms which surround the basilica as this might point towards its use and nature. The large set of rooms to the east of the main church may have been the bishop’s residence as it had the inscription referring to Optatus in it, but the function of the rest of the rooms is unclear. Were they houses for the clergy, storerooms, monastic cells or houses for Donatist laymen, in a Donatist quarter? Certainly the rooms around the complex’s exterior wall evoke the monastic cell but many of them are over sixteen metres square surely excessively large for monks unless of course there was more than one to a room, but they could be habitations within a quarter or storerooms. It is difficult to be sure that this was all one complex although there was an outer wall around the entire set of buildings which, at least according to the plan anyway, was only pierced in three locations. This suggests closely regulated entrance to the area, which may indicate a monastery, although it is possible that it was an episcopal group that had formal entrances and a set processional way. There are several definitions of what this complex could be then but the set of structures does appear to have been Donatist centre set on the city’s periphery.

The ‘Western Monastery’, as has previously been discussed, is regarded on reasonable although not conclusive grounds as the Donatist Cathedral.276 As Figure 15 demonstrates it lay several hundred metres to the west of the Capitol, which itself was an addition to the original city plan, beyond the rest of the buildings and in some ways it is not fully integrated into the city, (although this is also the case with the Temple of Aqua Septimiana Felix, which was some distance from the city towards the south). It was situated far from the main roads within the city and the through-routes into Thamugadi; this is despite the fact that there was plenty of room near the western triumphal arch into which it could have been placed. The complex was substantial with the central basilica itself being sixty-three by

The other large basilical complex at Thamugadi (Church II) is found in the northwestern

273

277 Courtois 1961; Albertini 1939, 100-110; Germain 1973 ; Ballu 1911. 278 Ballu 1911, 34. 279 August. c. ep. Parm, II.3.7

Duval 1989a, 364. Gesta Coll. Carth. I.181-182. Cf. Chapter 2. 275 See Figure 14. 276 See pages 34-37. 274

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extension from the original colonia.280 While not as large as the Donatist Cathedral it is a substantial series of buildings. It has been viewed as the Catholic Cathedral due to the knowledge that we have about the Donatist basilica. However it could be a monastery or even an earlier Donatist Cathedral rather than the Catholic Episcopal group. The structure is within an expansion from the original colonia, but is an integral part of the fourth and fifth century city. Despite this it does not seem to have been on a main route into Thamugadi. It was not in a main monumental area mainly due, no doubt, to the structure’s size as it was simply too large to have been implanted into a central area that was occupied in the fourth century. The complex was located on a road that led from the northwestern road into Thamugadi towards the large northern baths and as such may have been in a prominent position for people travelling from the northern and western suburbs to the baths. If this was the Catholic Cathedral it could leave a nice comparison between a Catholic basilica integrated into the city and a Donatist church complex on the periphery of city life.

leadership began to exert more power over more people and the urban fabric itself.282 Sitifis (Sitifis) Unlike the majority of the cities detailed in the case studies Sitifis was excavated in the middle of the last century and as a result stratigraphic considerations, the chronological use of ceramics and an interest in developments rather than plans and monuments, played an important role in the archaeological process allowing for firmer conclusions about dating, phasing and changes. This is important as Sitifis is a prime example of urban development occurring during the late Empire with several buildings constructed and expansion in its urban area. The city had its origins as a colony of veterans under Nerva with inscriptions naming it as the Colonia Nerviana Augusta Martialis Veteranorum Sitifensium.283 Relatively little is known about the original colony or where exactly it was located due to the fact that the centre of the town was covered by the French colony and now by the modern city. There were traces of second century occupation under the large temple next to the Byzantine citadel that is probably located over the earlier monumental centre but these were of poor quality.284 Later than the mid-second century the large temple close to the Byzantine fortress was constructed and judging by its plan and architectural style it may date to the Severan period. Two richly decorated baths dating to the early third century also attest to the wealth of the city at this date.285

The size and multiplicity of Christian structures at Thamugadi might explain why there are so few municipal inscriptions in the city from the second half of the fourth century. The populace of the town seems to have been overwhelmingly concerned with erecting monuments to the greater glory of God rather than honouring the emperors or repairing the secular or pagan landscape. The complexes at Thamugadi would have dominated the late Roman townscape wherever they were situated in the town. The ‘Donatist Cathedral’ was especially vast. The socalled ‘Catholic Cathedral’ and the Basilica of Januarius in its fourth century phase were also large and these complexes were augmented by the presence of cemetery churches and smaller chapels.281 This concentration on the religious life of the city contrasts with the town of Cuicul, which, while supplied with an ample number of Christian buildings, cannot compare in volume or scale of sacred construction. Cuicul of course also demonstrates continued secular and domestic building into the fifth century.

The key event in the city’s late Roman history was its elevation to the status of provincial capital under Diocletian when he created the province of Mauretania Sitifensis out of the western part of Mauretania Caesarensis. This proved the catalyst for urban development and renewal as the city gained the appropriate set of buildings that a city of its status needed. In the second half of the fourth century a substantial rampart of around five kilometres was constructed in large, good quality stonework with exterior, square towers every thirty metres.286 Unfortunately there is no available evidence as to who paid for this circuit. Presumably it was connected to Sitifis’s change in status but whether the imperial authorities paid for them,

In the middle of the fourth century the municipal life of Thamugadi appears to have been flourishing, statues were dedicated to the emperors, buildings were repaired and the populace were beautifying their own houses. This fell away in the latter part of the century and was replaced by church-building on a massive scale as priorities changed and as the Christian 280 281

282

Procopius states that the ‘Moors’ of the Aurès mountains destroyed the city during the Vandal period to discourage external intervention in their affairs. Procop., Vand., IV. 13.26. 283 E.g. AE, 1949, 42. 284 The paucity of knowledge about Sitifis’s city plan is indicated by the fairly basic drawing in Figure 16. 285 Mohamedi, et al. 1991, 28-55. 286 Février 1964, 683. Lepelley 1981, 498.

See Figure 15. Courtois 1961, 200.

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suggested to the local aristocracy that the city should erect them, or that members of the aristocracy, who knew what a provincial capital ought to have in the way of monumental structures, put them up, is unknown. In terms of examples of the walled provincial capital that could be used as a model for the circuit around Sitifis, both Iol Caesarea and Cirta-Constantine in the neighbouring provinces had been walled since the early Empire although Carthage of course did not have its walls until 425.

The introduction into the city of a new tier of externally paid bureaucracy in the fourth century would almost certainly have stimulated the economy of Sitifis. Wealthier people arriving at the city would have desired larger houses, a fact that would have meant money being redistributed to labourers, architects, and artists from the upper echelons of society. They will certainly have stimulated trade in local basic goods as well as specialist services such as the production of mosaics and fine wares. Fentress has suggested that there were two different economies involving the estates surrounding Sitifis during the early Empire. One was the local economy that aimed at self-sufficiency and dealt with agricultural surpluses from the wheat growing area of the plain to the north and pastoral products from the hills to the east, west and south.292 The other part of the economy was that which produced wheat for the greater Mediterranean market and was based upon the imperial estates that ringed the town.293 This trade may have previously by-passed the town altogether going straight to the coast from storage centres north of the town, the organisation of this trade may have been undertaken by estate managers who were based in the town. Estate managers may have had some disposable income, and along with local landowners may have stimulated the economy, but this would not have had the economic effect that would have occurred if the lands around Sitifis were in the hands of the municipal aristocracy. So apart from the surplus that the coloni on the imperial estates managed to accumulate and sell in the city much of the wealth produced by the hinterland of the colony would have gone elsewhere.

An amphitheatre was apparently constructed during the tetrarchy for which we have a dedicatory inscription of 297-298, when Maximian was in Africa.287 This would be an exceptionally late date for an amphitheatre to be constructed and, in the absence of a thorough excavation of the structure, the dedication might actually just commemorate the repair of the amphitheatre and that the benefactor had, in a not unknown fashion, claimed the entire construction as his own work. Independently of the imperial bureaucracy, individual benefactors constructed the temple to the Great Mother Cybele in 288 without reference even to the municipal authorities.288 The theatre was reconstructed at some undetermined date during the late Empire and the circus was constructed in the fourth century; it is likely, although not certain, that these works were connected to the provincial reorganisation.289 No inscription relates to the original construction of the governor’s residence, although the reconstruction of the porticoes of the palace is documented, but the entire complex would have been built during the years of the tetrarchy or shortly thereafter to give the new governor somewhere suitable to live.290 Most of the constructions at Sitifis appear to have been built under the tetrarchy but the amphitheatre was restored during the reign of Julian while under Valentinian II, Theodosius and Arcadius the curator and the city paid for the restorations on the buildings of the annona and in particular the bakeries.291 Presumably the restoration of the porticoes of the governor’s palace would have taken place around the middle of the fourth century or later, given its likely construction date, but again this cannot be proven.

There was further change in the economic life of Sitifis during the second half of the third century when barbarian raids led to a permanent military presence in the city. This created a new market for grain production in the immediate area and the imperial estates and, possibly, local producers would have provided the crop.294 If local producers did take up the servicing of some of the demand that would have brought more money into the local economy as would have the soldier’s pay. The massive increase in salaried officials at Sitifis in the reign of Diocletian would have contributed significantly to this process. The pottery found in archaeological deposits suggests that the pottery used at Sitifis was only produced locally and mosaic styles of the fourth century appear to have been of a local

287

Gsell 1901, 201; Lepelley 1981: 499. A.E., 1928, 39 and CIL VIII 8482 288 Lepelley 1981, 498 citing CIL VIII 8457. 289 Gsell 1901, 200; Lepelley 1981, 501. Humphrey is surely correct in linking it to the city’s new status; it was certainly later than the appearance of the first types of sigillata D. Humphrey 1986, 314. 290 Jouffroy 1986, 303, A.E., 1930, 46 291 Lepelley 1981, 499. A.E.., 1928, 39 and CIL VIII 8482 for the amphitheatre; CIL VIII 8480 for the bakeries.

292

Fentress 1990, 118. Fentress 1990, 119-120. 294 Fentress 1990, 122. 293

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school. Food consumption at the city also appears to have been fuelled by local sources, oil, grain and wine, which was apparently produced locally and transported in barrels due to the lack of amphorae. Evidence of long-distance trade is virtually absent, probably due to the cost of importing material overland.295 The stimulation of the local economy of Sitifis in the late Empire was due, to a large extent, to the Imperial bureaucracy’s creation of a new province centred on the city and the presence of troops.

housing, built to the north and west of the central area, which had never been formally integrated into the city plan.297 Some of these constructions were destroyed during the second half of the third century while others was abandoned at the start of the fourth. The destruction and abandonment of these buildings was then followed by a gap of under half a century until a regular road plan was laid out between 355 and 378.298 Following the creation of this new road system housing was constructed right up to the city wall, as were shops on the street fronts, and a small baths complex that includes a mosaic of Venus was built. The mosaic of Venus has been dated to the late fourth or early fifth centuries.299 Two Christian basilicas were also established in this region in the last decades of the fourth century. They have been dated to pre-389 in the case of the larger basilica and 378 in the case of the smaller.300

Despite the fact that much of the construction work at Sitifis was inspired by the Imperial government the restorations and constructions detailed above do indicate that there was some municipal effort put in to building these structures in terms of both organisation and funds. These developments were not simply an externally imposed process but it had some support from the local aristocracy, although the fact that many of these individuals would have held government positions means that they could easily have been pressured into contributing by the governor if they were not otherwise willing to do so. So then, although the amphitheatre seems to have been built with money provided by the aristocracy of the province and the curator of the town paid for the restoration of the annona buildings and individuals had the Temple of Cybele reconstructed, these cannot reasonably be separated from the members of the imperial bureaucracy who worked at the city.296

Apart from the northern complex the only other known church appears to have been a martyrium, although even this is not securely located. To the north of the city in a cemetery a couple of inscriptions seem to suggest the existence of the church in the vicinity but its location has not been found. One is the dedicatory inscription for a funeral chapel of Iustus and Decurius, who are otherwise unknown, and the other mentions Decurius and the thirty-six Centumaborenses a group of martyrs who may be the same as those commemorated at Tipasa.301 These martyrs are all otherwise unknown and the dating of these inscriptions is not secure.

While this above argument demonstrates that the embellishment and restoration of the city was not solely due to the euergetism of the imperial authorities, the fact that most of the constructions were built at the time the city was promoted suggests that the Imperial Will was the principal reason for the enrichment of the monumental ensemble at Sitifis. Was the relative lack of construction following the reign of Diocletian and his colleagues due to a lack of interest among the decurions in developing the city following the initial burst of activity? This is possible, alternatively the members of that class may not have been able to afford to pay for much more in the way of monumental construction if they had been contributing to the elevation of any of the set of constructions built under the tetrarchy.

So the only known Christian structures in the city were inserted into a new quarter in an area that was totally peripheral to the monumental centre.302 This marginal position is similar to other large Christian church groups at other North African cities but the state of research on Sitifis does not allow us to see whether these were the only churches within the contemporary city or whether others were placed into the monumental centre. The picture produced by the existing excavations would be radically altered if another were found in the city centre. The known church complex would certainly have had a dominating effect upon this new quarter, but with 297

Février 1964, 682-3. Février 1964, 682. This lay out is dated by the presence of a coin of Julian nobilis Caesar and a funerary epitaph of 378 in the smaller basilica. 299 Février 1964, 682, the mosaic of the House of Venus is similar to that of the epitaph in the large Christian basilica. 300 Février 1964, 679; Fentress 1990, 123; Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 84. 301 Duval, Y. 1982, 718. 302 Although there are some indications that there were other churches in the city (see the site plan) these two are the only ones that have been excavated and are currently extant. 298

Perhaps as a response to the economic development of the city the northwest quarter of the town underwent extensive remodelling and expansion during the late Empire. This development had been foreshadowed in the third century by dispersed structures and low quality 295 296

Fentress 1990, 123-124, for details of the local economy. Lepelley 1981, 498.

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such an incomplete picture of the Christian topography it is difficult to say more about the real effect that these churches had on the urban topography of the city. It may be that as a new quarter was established the Christian leadership in the city introduced churches there to service this area in order to serve the population. Alternatively the city’s expansion may have provided an opportunity for the Christian community to build an impressive modern complex on new land, but again motivation is not clear.303

Sitifis was a city that expanded in the fourth century. This was due to external factors created by the imperial government as well as presumably by more general economic and population changes. There was also a substantial building programme that was contributed to by the decurion class, even if the central authorities appear to have sponsored and motivated most of it. There also appear to be evidence for continuity of local trade and for a local school of mosaicists. A local school of mosaicists implies considerable amounts of work for them to do and a numerous elite to pay for the work so that a group of this type could be maintained. The Church also erected its structures Christianising, to some extent, the northwest quarter of the city by placing a pair of basilicas into it. The city was certainly a viable, living, entity in the late fourth century. This may, however, have depended too heavily on the imperial connection as following the Vandal invasion the periphery was quickly abandoned and low quality housing invaded a principal temple; although it could be suggested that, in the fifth century, the invasion of a temple by housing does not show decline but a useful conversion to ‘modern’ life.306

The dating of the quarter does establish that the development of Sitifis was not just an immediate reaction to the imperial influence that so altered the landscape of the city earlier in the century. The changes in the city’s status had a knock on effect throughout the fourth century. The increase in population and presumably economic vitality had been due, at least in part, to the appearance of an imperial bureaucracy at the city as detailed above. Whatever the extent of urban expansion during the late Empire this may not have been exclusively due to the imperial effect, after all there was great expansion at other sites in Africa during the third and fourth century. The effect of imperial largesse coupled with population growth throughout North Africa, based on increased wealth and agricultural production, would create a strong dynamic towards urban expansion at a city such as Sitifis that had been relatively unimportant until the tetrarchic period.

Tipasa Tipasa was originally a Phoenician city and was a fairly important town from the fifth century BC. In the Roman period the city lay on the coast road from Icosium to Iol Caesarea and an important route led from Tipasa back into the interior. Between the first century BC and the first century AD the town was limited to the hill situated to the west of the port within a small set of walls.307 The city gained Latin rights under Claudius and its forum and its basilica were built during the first century AD.308 In the second century, following its promotion to colonial status, the town was massively extended and a new set of walls were built in AD 147.309 The ‘settlement creep’ out beyond the original ramparts had begun before the Antonine period with axially organised peristyle houses.310 This expansion continued throughout the second century and either during the second half of that century or, at the latest, by the end of the Severan period a new focal point for the city was

Construction continued in Sitifis into the first quarter of the fifth century as one of the Severan baths was rebuilt, on a reduced scale, following a destructive episode and a period of abandonment.304 This disaster may well have been the earthquake known to have occurred at the city in 419 or earlier.305 The new set of baths was not as large as the third century structure but it does demonstrate some element of continuity in the way that people thought they should live in a Roman city. Given the fact that Augustine says that the city had experienced considerable damage in the earthquake rebuilding of any sort demonstrates the tenacity of urban life in North Africa in this period especially given the luxurious connotations of a baths complex. However, the reduced size of the baths may point to either funds no longer being available to return it to its former glory or that the population no longer needed as large a set.

306

Fentress 1990, 126. Bouchenaki 1975, 21 308 Pliny, N.H., 5.20. Gascou 1982b, 156-157. The forum is dated to the first century AD because the civil basilica, which definitely dated to that century, was built later than the forum steps. Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 27-9. Lepelley 1981, 543. 309 The city was a colony under Hadrian - AE, 1958, 128. For the walls AE, 1955, 130; Jouffroy 1986, 203; Gascou 1982a, 181. 310 Lancel 1982, 771. 307

303 The Christian community at Sitifis was represented at the Council of Carthage by the Donatist bishop Marcianus and the Catholic bishop Novatus. Gesta Coll. Carth., 1.143.4. 304 Fentress 1989, 321-337. Mohamedi, et al. 1991: 39. Lepelley, C. 1984, 473 305 August. Serm., 19.

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constructed. At the intersection of the cardo maximus and the decumanus maximus two new temples, an arch and a largo that gave on to the porticoes of the temples were created.311 This new complex at the heart of the city would undoubtedly have diminished the centrality of the forum area, and can be linked with the Severan fora and their associated constructions at Cuicul and Lepcis Magna and the grandiose Capitol and ‘Temple’ of Aqua Septimiana Felix at Thamugadi.312 Clearly as the cities of North Africa developed they required more than one monumental centre in order to house the variety of monuments, accommodate the burgeoning population and reflect the status of the city. Finally, in the same period, a theatre and the Great Baths appear to have been constructed. During the high imperial period then the city acquired the forum and its annexes, the theatre, at least three sets of baths, several temples, an aqueduct and associated cisterns and various rich houses. The building work undertaken in the early Empire undoubtedly beautified the town but created a situation where extensive amounts of money must have been needed to keep them in a suitable condition in late antiquity.313

with its related protection/service ideology. The lack of inscriptions at late Roman Tipasa and the fact that the only work commemorated involved the governor of the province is noteworthy. Could it be that the Tipasan aristocracy had lost the ‘epigraphic habit’ or was it simply that the inscriptions have not been located? These questions will be examined in more general terms in the final chapter. Other evidence of late Roman construction at Tipasa can be seen in the town’s nymphaeum, which was dated to the first half of the fourth century, to judge by the style of the columns, bases, capitals and the cornice.317 There has been some suggestion that the amphitheatre was a late construction due to the fact that it does not sit easily within the high-imperial city plan.318 This must be viewed with at least some scepticism because of the difficulties of adding such a large building into a pre-existing city plan although it is certainly possible that not all of the area intra muros was built up. This argument is subjective in that it seems to assume that early imperial architects would have attempted to align the structure correctly with the rest of the urban street plan and that later architects would neither cared nor had the ability to do so. In any case late-imperial Tipasa evinces the desire on the part of some within the community that the city should be provided with the luxuries that helped to provide diversions from the mundanity of everyday life.

There is relatively little evidence of the maintenance of this urban fabric during the late Empire partly because of the dearth of inscriptions from the period. The only inscription located at Tipasa that records a building project, is that of the governor of Mauretania Caesarensis, M. Valerius Victor, who inaugurated the reconstruction of the walls and new towers during the second tetrarchy.314 These walls were crucial for the later history of the town in that they helped to repel a siege during the revolt of Firmus.315 A bronze tablet of patronage discovered at Cordoba also impacts on the examination of Tipasa. It commemorates the ordo of Tipasa designating the clarissimus Flavius Hyginus, the count and governor of the province, as the city’s patron.316 This tablet is dated to the end of the fourth century by the governor’s titles. At the top of the inscription was a cross between an α and ω, potentially demonstrating that the authorities at Tipasa were quite prepared to use Christian symbolism on their official documentation and dedications, or perhaps merely indicating the sympathies of Hyginus and the aristocracy of Córdoba. This tablet does demonstrate the links that could develop between the Imperial elite and a city

There is more evidence for the pagan community at Tipasa than in most other North African towns during this period because of the detail provided in the Passion of Saint Salsa. Salsa was a young Christian girl who had received baptism and dedicated herself to God despite her parents being pagan.319 She was murdered after being forced to attend the festival of Draco and destroying the idol whilst everyone else was recovering. The writer of the Passion provides an extensive description of the cult of Draco and its festival day that Salsa was forced to attend by her pagan parents. The temple of Draco was placed on the rocky promontory of the ‘collis templensis’; a phrase that suggests several temples in the area. The redactor of the Passion writes that the idol was a gold-headed bronze statue with gem-encrusted eyes and on the days of the festival the temple was decorated with vegetation and tapestries. The priests wore sumptuous robes and incense was burnt on the altar while the celebrations included lascivious dances and chants accompanied by tambourines,

311

Lancel 1982, 771-3. Leschi 1947, 87-99. 313 See Figure 17 for a plan of the city before late antiquity. 314 Lepelley 1981, 544 citing AE, 1966, 600. 315 Amm. Marc. XXIX, 5, 15. Passio Salsae, 13. 316 Lepelley 1981, 544. CIL., II, 2210. 312

317

Aupert 1974, 73-79 Lancel 1982, 775 319 Passio Salsae, 2. 318

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trumpets, lyres and zithers. Following the ritual there was a banquet, heavy drinking and a siesta.320

made her extremely popular in Tipasa and her fame drew in pilgrims, creating a very dense field of burials surrounding her chapel in the eastern cemetery (see Figure 18). Despite this evident popularity her cult was not found away from the city and her name is not on the martyrological Calendar of Carthage leaving the city as the sole locus of her spiritual power.327 Pilgrimages to her tomb would undoubtedly have brought wealth into the city, as quite apart from the donations that the visitors would have offered at the shrine, these people would have needed to eat and have somewhere to stay. It is hard to imagine the devout pilgrim also attending the theatre or the amphitheatre but in view of what Salvian and Augustine had to say about the Carthaginian population’s attitude towards the spectacles it is not impossible that some pilgrims also spent money at these buildings too.328

Monceaux considers this description to be of great historical value as it: ‘Fournit des renseignements très précis …sur le dernier culte païen de Tipasa’.321 Unfortunately it is not really possible to take the detailed description at face value. By Monceaux’s own calculations Salsa was killed at a date between the latter part of Constantine’s reign and the middle of the fourth century, although given that Optatus says that there was a large Catholic population in Tipasa in 362 it seems likely that it dates from earlier in this period rather than later.322 Given that the Passion cannot have been written before the death of Firmus in 375 (and Monceaux believes that the Passion dates from the time of Augustine) there would be more than fifty years between the death of Salsa and its creation.323 Moreover the author tells us that the temple had been replaced, first by a synagogue and then by a church, which suggests that the cult had been defunct for a substantial passage of time.324 In such conditions can we really believe that the description of the cult of Draco at Tipasa were accurate? It seems more likely that, apart from key details, this was a generic description of pagan practices or more specifically a Christian interpretation of pagan practices rather than an actual description of the religion of the Draco. Nonetheless it does show what pagan cult was supposed to look like in the late fourth century. It is certainly interesting that a temple could be converted to a synagogue and that it in turn was turned into a church. It is unfortunate that neither the structure nor the dates of these transformations are known. A final point on pagan cult is the claim of the redactor that even in the time of St Salsa when ‘the faith was rare’ most of the Tipasan temples were already in ruins.325 It is hard to judge the veracity of that claim or even how the author could know that. It is more likely that the statement reflects reality in his own day when temples had begun to be converted for Christian use.

Because of Saint Salsa’s fame her large church in the eastern cemetery was in many ways the most important Christian structure in Tipasa. The basilica was a substantial structure in itself but it also had a chapel and other buildings in the complex including a niched structure to the south that may have been the original location for the relics. The sanctuary underwent as many as five phases of construction and enlargement between the fourth and fifth centuries. The maintenance and development of the Saint Salsa site was a priority for the Christian population at Tipasa; no doubt as the fame of the martyr and the number of pilgrims grew so did the community’s ability to expand the site. It could be considered that the Christian community at Tipasa, in expending vast amounts of funds on such a large building project, was making a sound investment for future prosperity although it is doubtful that they saw it in such mercenary terms. This hill with its religious importance would clearly have provided a different focus of Christian loyalty and devotion in the town to the cathedral, as well as providing opposition to the pagan centre of the town. Although the Christian population was not strong enough to prevent the lynching of Saint Salsa there is plenty of evidence for the Christianisation of Tipasa during the later fourth and fifth centuries.329 According to Optatus it had a large Catholic population and was the scene of sectarian warfare in 362 when the Donatist exiles were permitted to return.330 This, and the large

Salsa’s fame was also increased when Firmus’ entreaties to Salsa for aid against the city, which he was sieging, were rejected and he fell badly.326 The accident was taken as a bad omen and the siege failed. This and her Passion seems to have 320

Passio Salsae, 3-4 and 6. Monceaux 1905, 167 Optatus, II.18 323 Monceaux 1905, 165-6. 324 Passio Salsae, 3 for the description of the idol of Draco. 325 Passio Salsae, 3. 326 Passio Salsae, 13. For the revolt see Amm. Marc. XXIX.5.15. 321 322

327

Duval, Y. 1982, 698; Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 37-44. See the Carthage case study. 329 Monceaux 1905, 163-87. Passio Salsae, 1-14. 330 Lepelley 1981, 350. Optatus, II.18 for the carnage and sadism that marked the return of the Donatist hierarchy to North Africa. 328

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number of Christian churches that date from the end of the century, suggest a large Christian population in Tipasa during the later fourth century.331 Considering the apparent strength of the Christian community, in particular the Catholic Church (see Tipasa case study), it is strange that neither Donatists, if there was such a community at Tipasa, or Catholics were represented at the Council of Carthage. This may have been due to the distances involved in travelling to the North African metropolis; Tipasa was seven hundred kilometres to the west of Carthage.

templensis’ on the central hill but the positioning could result from this being the only available space in the town or the Christian group having been given a grant of land here.334 Rather than establishing a Christian area in the old city centre the community had created their own religious area in opposition to that of the old religion. The group was more than a church it was also an ideological statement. As was noted above the fourth or early fifth century saw at least two temple conversions as the ‘Temple of Draco’ was made into a church dedicated to Saint Salsa and the ‘New Temple’ in the centre of the city was also converted.335 The judicial basilica next to the forum was also made into a church at this time.336 The ‘Temple of Draco’ cannot be the same as the ‘New Temple’ (if we credit the redactor with providing accurate topographical information) as it is said to be on the rocky promontory while the ‘New Temple’ is part of the inland monumental complex near the amphitheatre.337 The basilica can no longer have been in use by the time of its conversion, which in itself suggests a change in the provision of justice at the town in the late antique period. The acquisition of the property by the Church may solely have been due to the convenience of only having to convert a ready shaped structure but given its central location there may well have been ideological considerations behind the adaptation of the structure; these will be explored in the following chapter.

Apart from Salsa’s church several others were built at Tipasa during this period both inside and outside the city walls. A large episcopal complex comprising a large church, baptistery, chapel, and a small baths suite, undoubtedly dominated the western part of the city after its construction on the western hill just inside the city walls. The episcopal complex was vast and would have dominated the western part of Tipasa despite its marginal position. The church was divided into nine naves by eight rows of columns a veritable forest of stone which, disrupting the lines of sight, illuminated by windows set high up in the galleries would have conveyed a sense of mystery and awe to the worshipper, emphasising the power and splendour of God and, by implication, his clergy. The composition would have made a spectacular impact upon the congregation or the visitor.332 The number of naves must be attributed to a desire on the part of the architects to show off either the power of God or, on a more base level, the power and wealth of the Christian community compared to that at other cities, to the pagans or their Donatist rivals.

Apart from the Church of Saint Salsa there were two further churches in the cemeteries. In the western cemetery the Chapel of Bishop Alexander contained the bodies of at least some of Tipasa’s bishops and it was surrounded by mensae of the martyrs.338 One of these, Victorinus, was killed on the 8th May 315 or 320 and seems to have been killed by either persecutors or schismatics.339 Given Saint Salsa’s fate they could have been pagans despite the peace of the Church but he may also have fallen victim to inter-Christian violence. Two other martyrs, Rogatus and Vitalis, were also commemorated in the arae but unfortunately their epitaph does not tell us about the

The complex was not placed in the most logical of positions for such an important building. The structure as a whole was placed too close to the city wall, which blocked access to the main entrance and did not provide a magnificent approach to the complex, while the apse, which was placed on a rocky outcrop, needed substantial underpinning to hold it up. These problems could have been avoided if the structure was placed somewhere on the flat ground either extra or intra muros.333 The position of the complex suggests other motivations for the structure’s orientation and location than considerations of magnificence and impression, as it was in an undeniably peripheral position. The group seems to have been deliberately set up in opposition to the ‘collis

334

Passio Salsae, 3. Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 21-4. Février 1982a, 321-397. 335 The date of the conversion of the temple is relatively secure. Gui and Duval dated it to the late fourth or early fifth century on stylistic grounds but the pottery evidence provided by Baradez confirms this, albeit without providing any specifics. Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 27; Baradez 1961, 221-223 336 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 25-29. Figure 18. 337 Passio Salsae, 3. 338 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 32-5. 339 Duval, Y. 1982, 720

331 Optatus refers to unnecessary churches in North Africa. Optatus, III.4. 332 Février 1982a, 321-397 and Gsell 1901, II.317-323. 333 See Figure 18.

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circumstances of their death.340 Gui, Duval and Caillet suggest a mid-third century date for the original cave crypt over which the church was constructed based upon the claim that the late fourth century bishop Alexander had nine predecessors in sarcophagi buried with him.341 It is extremely optimistic to make such a statement based on the very variable time-spans that bishops could spend on their cathedra but the crypt was certainly earlier than the construction of the basilica as the latter followed the line of the cave.342 The church at any rate seems to be dated by its mosaics to the late fourth/early fifth centuries.

Italian excavators published several volumes on their findings. After the war, under the British Military Administration, Ward-Perkins and others undertook architectural studies at the city.346 More recently the work of Mattingly on Tripolitania in the Roman period has provided in depth analysis of development and change in the province.347 Much of the standing remains of the city were reconstructed following excavation and are interpretations of the evidence, the accuracy of some of these works could be debated. There are several phases of expansion at the city with major phases occurring in the Augustan, Hadrianic/Antonine and Severan periods producing frequent extensions in the city grid and the construction of many monuments. This produced the city plan shown in Figure 19. It was a municipium, apparently maintaining its pre-Roman magistracies, by 77-78 and a colony under Trajan.348 Lepcis demonstrates some continuity into the late Empire as several buildings were reconstructed, there were attempts to build new secular constructions and at least one church was built. The community must have continued to possess substantial resources. This is despite the fact that the literary sources inform us that the Austoriani ravaged Lepcis’ territory under Jovian and Valentinian. Ammianus Marcellinus writes that the Austoriani encamped around the city for three days, ravaged the fertile districts around it, slew peasants who did not withdraw to local caves and captured a leading member of the Lepcitanian ordo.349 On several occasions following this initial attack the tribe raided the territory of both Lepcis and Oea, once unsuccessfully besieging Lepcis for eight days and killing several local officials. Ammianus’ account makes it clear that although the city was not taken the tribe did do severe damage to the surrounding territory. It is unfortunate that Ammianus does not enlighten us about any longterm damage to the territory but it is clear that many who were not able to escape either into the city or away from the invasion zone were killed and much ‘booty’ was removed. This may well have disrupted life in the area and impacted upon the city’s agricultural wealth for some time, after all if many peasants died or were driven away there may have been a shortfall in labour. The aftermath of the invasions was made worse by the city falling out with the Count of Africa, Romanus, who refused to lead an expedition against the Austoriani unless the city provided

The martyr inscription in the basilica of Saints Peter and Paul in the eastern cemetery seems to date to the late fourth/early fifth centuries, but this may relate to the church’s second phase.343 It has been suggested that the earlier church, which was probably destroyed in the mid to late fourth century, was ruined by the revolt of Firmus. This is a possibility but the difficulty of linking archaeological features to historical events is well known.344 Two final martyr inscriptions, the first mentioning Sperantius, Dativa and Eu… and the second commemorating the Oboritanians or the Centumaborenses (see the Sitifis study) have also been recovered from the city but while the former has fourth-century style lettering nothing else can be said about their cults.345 Tipasa was a great Christian centre in the late fourth/early fifth centuries. Wealth was diverted into constructing these monuments and, judging by the limited epigraphical material and archaeological remains, this meant that the secular urban fabric was not renewed and some of it was converted for new use. As Figures 17 and 18 demonstrate the Christian faith had clearly become the main feature of life in the city in this period although, judging by the presence of a new nymphaeum and the restored enceinte, the passion for the religion did not consume all available funds at the city; there were other priorities beyond the glorification of God and the succour of souls. Lepcis Magna (Lebda) The main phase of the excavation of Lepcis Magna took place from 1920 until the outbreak of the Second World War. This work was more methodical than earlier excavations and the 340

Duval, Y. 1982, 721 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 34-5. 342 Duval, Y. 1982, 459. 343 Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 35-7. 344 Zos. Historia Nova, IV.16; Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 35-7. 345 Duval, Y. 1982, 721. 341

346

Ward-Perkins, J.B. and Kenrick 1993, 1-3. Mattingly 1995 IRT. 342; 353 the Colonia Ulpia Traiana Lepcis. 349 Amm. Marc. XXVIII.6.4 347 348

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supplies and a considerable number of camels.350 For Ammianus Romanus was the villain of the episode but this fit in with one of Ammianus’ main themes – corruption of imperial bureaucrats – and Romanus may have been being sensibly cautious, following the raiders back to their homeland with an ill-equipped force would be courting disaster. Whoever was in the right the affair lasted for several years, led to several deaths among the Tripolitanian elite and undermined the relationship between the cities of Tripolitania and the Imperial court.

to Tripolitania, and one may mention the return of goods to the populace.354 If the damage was not as severe as the other problems that befell Lepcis it is possible that the erectors of the inscriptions ignored it. Set alongside the ravages of the Austoriani and the corruption of Romanus the earthquake may have paled into insignificance. The most telling point in favour of some earthquake damage to the city is that some of the damaged buildings such as the Flavian Temple, the Hadrianic Baths, the theatre and the Serapeum were well inside the late Roman wall.355 Given that Ammianus says that the walls held the Austoriani at bay this damage cannot have been caused by them; an earthquake in the mid-fourth century, possibly connected with that of 21 July 365, cannot be ruled out.

It has been alleged that Lepcis’ problems with the Austoriani were exacerbated by damage inflicted by an earthquake, either identical to or associated with that of 21 July 365.351 The date is possible as if Cyrenaica, as is widely accepted, could be damaged then it is not inconceivable that Tripolitania could be. However the distance from the epicentre to the south of Crete to Lepcis is still substantial and it would be surprising if it were the actual earthquake attested to by Ammianus, Jerome, and others.352 It is perhaps more likely that Lepcis could have been hit by an earthquake in this period as part of an ‘earthquake storm’ that seems to have hit the Mediterranean, and in particular the eastern half, in the early 360s. Lepelley is unconvinced that Tripolitania suffered any damage whatsoever from an earthquake in this era, pointing out that although Ammianus provides us with a great deal of information about the situation in the province in the 360s, and he uses the earthquake elsewhere in his work, he makes no mention of such damage in the context of Tripolitania.353 It could be argued that, in these passages, it was the actions and corruption of men that Ammianus was interested in and the catastrophe of the earthquake that elsewhere he uses to demonstrate the gods’ response to the death of Julian did not fit in with his schema here. Still, its absence from his narrative is noticeable. Lepelley also points out that it is strange that the series of inscriptions from statue bases in honour of the patrons of Lepcis, who helped restore the city following the 360s, did not mention an earthquake although they did mention the invasion, the ravages done

Damage to buildings outside the city walls, around this period, could have come from diverse sources. The diversion dam on the Wadi Lebda, the amphitheatre and the circus, could have suffered from the seismic event of 365, a more localised earthquake, or from the Austoriani who, during their two sieges of the city, are likely to have seen these as important targets. In particular the tribe may have recognised that the destruction of the dam would have made life appreciably worse for the inhabitants of the city as it would have led to flooding in the city centre in winter and possibly the acceleration of the silting up of the harbour that could, in time, seriously harm trade.356 A loss of trade would have caused problems with any rebuilding programme within the city or in its rural territorium, as it would have reduced the amount of money available for reconstruction. Damaging these structures, given their size, would have required considerable effort, not to mention considerable strategic planning, on the part of the tribe but this should not be ruled out. Prior to the crises of the mid-fourth century it seems that the city was largely still thriving as the curia and the governors undertook several works of restoration.357 The ‘schola’ at Lepcis demonstrates some repairs that Di Vita believed were subsequent to the 306-10 earthquake, while the Basilica Ulpia and the curia were both restored in the early fourth century and may also be post-earthquake repairs.358 A portico of a market and the basilica of the old forum were restored between 324 and 326 under the auspices of the governor, although the city paid for the works.359 Later under Constans and Constantius

350 Amm. Marc. XXVIII.6.5. The manuscript tradition of four thousand camels has been challenged by Courtois (1955, 100) and Shaw (1981, 695-6) on the basis that is ridiculously huge. It is possible that the manuscript was wrong as Courtois supposed, that Ammianus was wrong, or that Romanus did demand 4000 camels knowing that the Lepcitanians would be unable to produce them. If it were the latter then Romanus’ dereliction of duty was especially serious. 351 See Sufetula and Sabratha case studies. 352 Amm. Marc. XXVI.10.12-19, Jerome, Chron. a366 and Vita S. Hil. 40 and a range of near contemporary chronicles mention it; from the fifth century comes the evidence of Socrates HE IV.3-4 and Sozom. HE VI.3. Kelly 2004, 143-8. 353 Lepelley 1984, 475-7.

354

Lepelley 1984, 475-7. Mattingly 1995, 180-1. 356 Mattingly 1995, 181. 357 Di Vita 1990, 441-2. 358 Di Vita 1990, 449. IRT. 543 and IRT. 580. 359 Lepelley 1981, 337. IRT. 468 and 467. 355

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II (340-50) the theatre appears to have been restored and a statue to the governor of the province, Flavius Victor Calpurnius, was erected as recognition for his generosity in restoring public edifices and offering spectacles.360 In the years 355 to 360 the same honour was accorded to Flavius Archontius Nilus, the restorer of public monuments, and to Flavius Nepotianus for having repulsed the assaults of the ‘barbarians’, for having fortified the limes and for restoring the civitatium moenia.361 In the later third or in the fourth century there was an abortive attempt to construct an extremely large bath complex near the Severan forum, which demonstrates some initial wealth but perhaps a lack of long term will or funds.362 Given the problems that beset Lepcis in the fourth century this should not be a surprise.

the impracticality of defending massive lengths of wall. It does not necessarily imply that the city outside of the wall had ceased to be inhabited. After this period of maintenance the problems of the 360s appear to have had a major effect on the city. It has been hypothesised that the Hunting Baths, which lay outside the city walls, were abandoned at this time (although this is an assumption based on its position outside the city walls) and the deposition of early fifth century coin hoards in the market strongly suggest that it had ceased to function as a trading depot by that date.366 The Sanctuary of Serapis had been damaged in the early fourth century and seems to have been definitively out of use by the 360s.367 Finally Di Vita also claims that the amphitheatre went around the 360s and was converted into a fortification.368 It is notable that the datable works on public buildings, with the exception of the last restoration of the civitatium moenia, occurred before the ravages of the Austoriani and even that of Nepotianus occurred before the main recorded assault of 363. It could be that following these attacks, and the arguments with Romanus and the wrath of the Imperial Court, that the city could no longer afford to restore or construct public buildings. The ravages of the Austoriani would have damaged the agricultural basis of the elite as well as killing some of them, their tenants and coloni. This could have meant that the elite would have found it hard to repair constructions damaged in the raids or maintain other buildings in the future on top of the restoration of their villas and the replacement of the goods that they lost in 363. If earthquake damage did occur in the 360s, as seems likely, then this would have further exacerbated the problem. The combined death toll of an earthquake and the Austoriani’s raids could have contributed to the abandonment of large areas of the city to the sand, which occurred after the 360s.369

At some stage in the late Roman period a city wall, encircling an area of 130 hectares, was constructed.363 The walls may have replaced the large earth-works that enclosed 425 hectares (although less than half of that was inhabited at the city’s greatest extent) and which may have been a defensive circuit during the early Empire.364 The wall is not dated by an inscription but was obviously in place before 363 or the Austoriani could not have placed the city under siege.365 As Figure 20 demonstrates this was, by its huge size and importance in Lepcis’ history, the defining late Roman monument at the city. It was this wall that held the Austoriani at bay saving the city’s population from slaughter. Although the Roman walls were of good quality with towers bonded into the wall, and features such as a monumental arch of the later second century carefully incorporated into it, the construction was still pragmatic as it only encompassed the defensible city. Nevertheless, when it is considered that late Roman walls north of the Mediterranean often surrounded less than ten hectares, Lepcis’ walls demonstrate the ambition of the late Roman authorities and continued urban vitality in the first half of the fourth century. Furthermore, the exclusion of previously occupied areas may have been due to

These problems seem to have seriously affected the condition of the city but it struggled on and tried to maintain aspects of the classical tradition. Certainly the ordo continued functioning past the revolt of the Austoriani as it dedicated statues to Gratian, Valentinian II, Theodosius, Arcadius and Honorius and to five high imperial officials, who were patrons of the city and who apparently

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Lepelley 1981, 338. IRT. 470 and 569 Lepelley 1981, 339. IRT. 562 and 565; Goodchild 1976, 129-131; 362 Goodchild 1965, 15-27; Nielsen 1990, II 27. 363 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 47; Sjöström 1993, 134. Caputo (1951, 224) thought that the city walls could have been as early as the third century. 364 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins argue that these defences were built at the time of the threatened invasion of the Garamantes in AD 69. Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 47. The huge size of the work would have made them impractical for defensive purposes but that does not rule out their use as a monumental constructing delineating the boundaries of the city. There were also Byzantine walls at Lepcis. Constructed under Justinian they replaced the earlier circuit destroyed by the Vandals. 365 Haynes 1955, 72 361

366 Ward-Perkins, J.B. and Toynbee 1949, 166 and 191; Goodchild 1976, 116. 367 Brouquier-Reddé 1992, 105. 368 Di Vita 1990, 464-5 369 Mattingly 1995, 185. Of course, the earthquake might not have killed many people at all but it is fundamentally difficult to know.

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helped to stabilise its situation, after 363.370 This continued the tradition of dedicating statues to emperors, vicars, counts and governors as befitting the city’s status as a provincial capital.371 Furthermore, there is evidence that repairs continued in the forum vetus, the Severan Forum and the theatre until the early fifth century, probably due to their importance to city life. This demonstrates that there was still some wealth in the city and that the members of the ordo were not so impoverished that they could not honour their benefactors and rulers.

to the Byzantine re-conquest.375 In all likelihood, due to its architecture, it must be dated to the first half of the fifth century so either in the late years of Roman rule or the first years of Vandal control. The church appears to have been placed on the site of a late first or early second century temple and its location would have been a reminder to the population of Lepcis of the triumph of Christianity over the old pagan gods. Unfortunately the other churches in the city are either of Justinianic date or later (Church I, III and VI), or totally undated (IV and V), making it difficult to analyse closely the attitude of the Christians at Lepcis towards the urban area.376 By the Byzantine period public structures were being freely invaded by Christian buildings, for instance Church I was placed into the Severan basilica and Church VI was installed in a monumental exedra off the Severan colonnaded street.377 Church III, also installed off the Severan colonnaded street, displays the tendency in the late antique period to introduce burials intra muros.378

The evidence for private life in this period is extremely limited with the majority of the work concentrated on monumental structures.372 The peristyle house adjacent to the theatre, excavated between 1995 and 1997 by an Anglo-Libyan team, demonstrated that at least one dwelling (with its own lavatory that drained into the street) was reoccupied in the mid fourth century despite being abandoned in the early second century at the latest. Furthermore, in common with other cities in North Africa, there is some evidence of encroachment of private buildings on a former public monument. The Flavian Temple was converted into housing and pottery workshops at some stage after the 360s.373 This change of use does demonstrate the continuance of economic life in the city and the need for new housing is clear from the rebuilding of the peristyle house. The alterations are partly a function of changes in priority in the late Empire but in this particular case the change may have been speeded up by the damage sustained to the structure in the earthquake.

Lepcis does display continuity of urban life into the late antique period although the disasters that overtook the province in the 360s severely curtailed spending on public buildings and damaged the city’s architectural fabric. Up until the assaults of the Austoriani there is evidence that business was continuing as usual with several reconstructions or repairs undertaken on different buildings and structures, such as the walls and a set of baths, being built. Following the 360s there is considerably less evidence that the city continued to be served by its aristocracy or governors in the same manner. It was perhaps the case that available finances had been redirected to the reconstruction of the country estates and villas that apparently had suffered badly in 363 but the city appears to have struggled on. It is perhaps surprising that such an important city as Lepcis does not display more evidence of Christianity in the late Roman period. The single church that is fairly securely dated to the early fifth century cannot really have been the extent of Christianity’s presence, the other undated ones might be of this era or alternatively there may have been other churches that are yet to be discovered. Lepcis flourished at the beginning of this period and may have continued to do so if the assaults of the native tribes and the earthquake had not caused such damage.

It is impossible to say much about the quarrel between the two Christian sects with regard to Lepcis. We know that a Donatist Bishop, Salvianus, was at the Council of Carthage in 411 but that this was not mirrored by the attendance of a Catholic bishop.374 This is unlikely to mean that there was not a Catholic community at so important a city as Lepcis Magna; it may reflect the illness of a Catholic prelate or a temporary interregnum at the see. There was, however, at least one late Roman building constructed to service the Christian community of Lepcis. This was installed in the forum vetus in the heart of the old monumental complex at some time prior 370 Mattingly 1995, 342-344; Lepelley 1981, 342-4. Imperial dedications: IRT. 474, 476, 477, 478, 479. Dedications to officials: IRT. 526, 475, 570, 571, 480. 371 Lepelley 1981, 342-6. At least seventeen dedications to emperors and twenty to high imperial officials are known from the late Empire. 372 Walda 1996, 125-129; Walda, et al. 1997, 43-70; Walda 1998, 169-171. 373 Mattingly 1995, 185. 374 Gesta Coll. Carth. 1.207.170

375 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 27. See Figure 21 for the forum vetus area. 376 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 24-33 and 82. 377 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 23-24 and 82. 378 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 29-31.

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Sabrathan economy.386 Even at the end of the second century some projects were being abandoned. Indications of retrenchment in building activity and changes in attitudes to sacred loci are evidenced by the re-use of the open-air sanctuary to the east of the city as a burial ground and the possible abandonment of work in the East Forum Temple, probably during the course of the third century.387

Sabratha Sabratha was excavated in two periods. The first, between 1925 and 1942, led to around eight hectares in the centre of the city being cleared and restored by Italian archaeologists. This work mainly focused on revealing the buildings rather than demonstrating developments within the city over time.379 A British led team that aimed to examine the uncovered remains, with a view to creating a stratigraphic record, and to log some of the work of the unpublished Italian excavations undertook a second campaign between 1948 and 1951.380 It is the three seasons of work between 1948 and 1951 that provide us with our best evidence for changes at Sabratha in late antiquity.

There are some indications of prosperity at fourth-century Sabratha although the city seems to have suffered badly from the 360s onwards.388 Excavation has revealed two destruction levels that demonstrate burning in the period after Diocletian’s abdication in 305 and another in the 360s. Di Vita, followed by Kenrick, interpreted these as being due to earthquakes in the period 306-310 and in 365 while Lepelley has linked the second episode to the invasions of the Austoriani.389 The early period of destruction seems to have been minor in comparison with what happened later although it resulted in damage to a Temple of Liber Pater, which was repaired under Constans and Constantius II, and it seems possible that some work was also carried out on the Temple of Hercules during that reign.390 The former was repaired thanks to money provided by the city council, the work being carried out under the supervision of L. Ameilius Caelestinus a duumvir for the fifth time and a perpetual flamen.391 An inscription also makes it clear that the market was rebuilt between 364 and 367, presumably before a midfourth-century earthquake, as it explicitly states that it had been left in a bad state because of quarrels and division.392

Sabratha was already old by the time of the Roman occupation and it grew gradually from the Punic era into the Roman period. The earliest settlement lay between the later forum and harbour, pottery sherds date this to the late fifth century or early fourth century BC.381 During the next several hundred years stone housing was constructed, there were extensive rebuilding phases and a gradual expansion of the town southwards from the original site.382 In the first century AD the monumental complex at the heart of the Roman city began to develop with the construction of the Temple of Serapis, the Capitol, the East Forum Temple (probably a temple to Liber Pater), the forum and the Temple of Isis in the east of the town (its reconstruction was completed in 76-79).383 In the late first to mid-second century carefully planned expansion towards the east took place with regularly laid out insulae, as opposed to the more organic formations of the original town, being constructed.384 In the Antonine period the Office Baths, the Antonine and South Forum Temples, the amphitheatre and theatre were all built while the port was expanded and regularised.385 Unlike many other African cities Sabratha does not show much Severan building beyond the Severan monument and Dore interprets this as possibly demonstrating a reduction in the size of the

As noted above Lepelley has favoured human causation for the destruction of the 360s.393 However, as Lepelley recognises, Ammianus fails to mention the Austoriani’s raids touching Sabratha whatsoever; he explicitly states that it 386 Dore 1988, 84; Di Vita, Di Vita-Evrard and Bacchielli 1999, 158. 387 Brouquier-Reddé 1992, 29; Kenrick 1986, Dore 1988, 74. 388 See Figure 22 for the state of the city in the mid to late third century. Dore, et al. 1989, 103 389 Kenrick 1986, 5; Mattingly 1995, 180; Lepelley, 1981, 373. 390 The Temple of Liber Pater is also known as the East Forum Temple. There is a tendency to attribute any damage on the Tunisian and Libyan coasts in this period to either this earthquake or that of the 360s (see above). Cf. Foucher 1984, 91-95 who takes for granted Di Vita’s earthquake of 306-310, but he does not attribute all destruction and abandonment at Hadrumetum in the fourth century to it. Lepelley 1981, 374. IRT. 55. 391 Lepelley 1981, 374. IRT. 7. 392 Lepelley 1984: 478. P. Corbier – Z.P.E., 43, 1981, p. 8990. 393 Amm. Marc. XXVIII.6; Lepelley, 1981, 373 and Kenrick 1986, 315.

379

Kenrick 1986, 1-2. Kenrick 1986, 1. 381 Kenrick 1986, 312; Mattingly 1995, 125-7; Di Vita, Di Vita-Evrard and Bacchielli 1999, 146. 382 Kenrick 1986, 313. Specifically, the existing building in the Casa Brogan area was expanded and two PunicoHellenistic mausolea were built to the southwest of the central area. There may also be evidence of a new defensive wall in the east side of the ‘Casa Brogan’ insula at this date. 383 Kenrick 1986, 314; Dore, et al. 1989, 2; Di Vita, Di VitaEvrard and Bacchielli 1999, 152-3. 384 This expansion occurred sometime before 186-193 when the Temple of Hercules was remodelled. 385 Kenrick 1986, 315; Di Vita, Di Vita-Evrard and Bacchielli 1999, 152-8. The city may have been a colony by the end of the second century or start of the third. Gascou 1982b, 309. 380

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baths following a catastrophe.398 Three statues erected in the late fourth century also display continuity with the past. Valentinian I and Valens were honoured with statues by the Vicar of Africa, Antonius Dracontius, between 364 and 367, while between 383 and 388 a statue was elevated to L. Aemilius Quintus, a perpetual flamen, as a reward for ambassadorial duties at the imperial court.399 It is noticeable that a governor repaired the baths and that it was the Vicar of Africa that erected the statues to the emperors rather than the local aristocracy. These actions demonstrate the web of patronage, power and money that could link those in positions of high power with the cities and the municipal aristocracy to which class they may well have once belonged. It may also demonstrate that the travails that Sabratha had suffered mitigated against the involvement of the curia or local aristocrats in the provision of buildings and the erection of honorific statues towards the end of the fourth century.

was Lepcis and Oea that were affected by the tribesmen. If we argue that Ammianus is entirely reliable (effectively Lepelley’s argument against an earthquake in Tripolitania in the 360s) then it is strange that he would fail to mention the third of the Tripolitanian cities if the Austoriani had sacked it too. Given that Ammianus’ main point in relating this episode is not the actual raiding but Romanus’ misadministration and failure to restore the cities it would surely have been more forceful if he was able to say that all of the Tripolitanian cities had suffered due to his corruption. Sabratha also lies further to the west than the other cities and therefore further from the Austoriani’s bases making it more likely that the tribe did not attack the city. As Kenrick has noted the sheer scale of the devastation also makes it likely that the destruction was not caused by human agency.394 An earthquake, contemporary to that which caused destruction at Lepcis, which is unlikely to actually be that of 21 July 365, is the most likely source for the midfourth century destruction level at Sabratha.

Industry and commerce was clearly an important facet of life in the late Roman period. Wilson’s map of commercial activities in Sabratha is of some use in defining both the character of the city but also in examining what trades contributed to Sabratha’s economic vitality.400 He includes limited evidence of olive oil making facilities, a bakery, indications of purple dye production and vats that seem to indicate another industrial process, which Wilson postulates was fish salting and garum production.401 The problem with the vats is that the excavation methodology was not necessarily aimed at preserving the stratigraphy within them, leading to a lack of certainty as to their date and use, although Wilson suggests that construction may have occurred in the first or second centuries AD. The lack of dating evidence also makes it difficult to know how many were in operation at any one time and whether they continued in use in the late Roman period.402 Still, a plotting of the businesses can be used to show that they were, somewhat surprisingly in the case of the tanks and purple production, located within the central area, within close proximity to the forum and its associated temples. Presumably to the list of economic processes we may add the quarries to the southeast that provided much of the stone for the city.

Whatever the reason for the destruction of the 360s the extent of the abandonment and destruction makes it probable that the effect on the population was devastating. Given the damage to the city extensive loss of life is likely, which would have impacted on the inhabitants’ ability to repair the damage that had occurred. No doubt as a consequence of this loss of life and the overwhelming levels of destruction outlying zones, and some areas in the vicinity of the forum, were left to the elements. There was, however, some attempt at a recovery. The ‘Casa Brogan’ demonstrates later fourth century redevelopment and expansion.395 Fragments of the destroyed constructions were gathered from all over the town and stored in the vaults under the Capitolium. Some of this material was reused to repave the north portico of the forum and the curia was also rebuilt.396 The civil basilica was reconstructed with a new plan; interestingly this made very little use of the original construction and reemployed many columns from the Antonine and South Forum Temples. The east portico of the East Forum Temple also postdates the destruction but seems to have been built to close off the destroyed temple in order to shield the ruins from the forum.397 A statue to the governor Flavius Vivius Benedictus was erected in 378 by the ordo and the people in thanks for the restoration of a set of

The Acts of the Council of Carthage show that the Sabrathan Christian community was only 398

Lepelley 1981, 375. IRT. 103. Lepelley 1981, IRT. 57 and 58. 400 Wilson 1999, 29-52. 401 Wilson 1999, 40-48. 402 Wilson 2002, 431.

394

399

Lepelley 1981, 373 and Kenrick 1986, 4-5. 395 Kenrick 1986, 317. 396 Lepelley 1981, 375. 397 Kenrick 1986, 33; Brouquier-Reddé 1992, 44.

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represented by the Catholic bishop Nados at the council but this does not necessarily indicate that the city did not have a Donatist community.403 This Christian community was obviously wealthy in the late fourth century as, at this date, it could afford to construct two new churches in the east of Sabratha and to convert the rebuilt judicial basilica into a church. It is unclear exactly when the basilica was converted for Christian use except that it must have been sometime after 365 and it is unlikely to have been later than the mid fifth century, due to the collapse of the city during the Vandal period.404 The first church seems to have occupied the entire length of the judicial basilica.405 This conversion probably took very little effort except for the insertion of an altar into the nave and a baptistery into an apsidal room behind the main apse. The conversion of the basilica in itself must have meant that the judicial work that had taken place within the basilica must have either been displaced to another building or have previously halted. Some impact upon urban life by the alteration of the structure to Christian uses must have taken place.

attending these eastern churches they would have passed through parts of the city that were no longer inhabited, had the churches not been there they may not have regarded these parts of the city as actually still being part of the urban topography. Paganism, despite its loss of Imperial allegiance, apparently still thrived in the city prior to the problems of the 360s. As described above the temples of Hercules and Liber Pater were restored in the course of the 340s. As Lepelley points out it could be that, as Liber Pater and Hercules correspond to Shadrapa and Melqart, the pre-Roman religious traditions, classicised and altered in the period of Roman dominance retained their vigour for the population of the city.408 Following the earthquake there are limited signs of attempts to restore the sanctuaries but this was not universal and the basilica was rebuilt using columns stripped out of the Antonine and South Forum Temples. 409 It is noticeable that the temples of Liber Pater and Hercules were left alone. The old patron deities were protected from the despolation of their shrines. At some stage in late antiquity the Sanctuary of Isis, in the east of the city, went out of use as a defensive wall cut across it, but at what date is unknown.410 In the case of the South Forum Temple at least, there is evidence that the temple had habitations constructed over it in the late period and one of its fauissae had a cistern built in it at the end of the fourth century.411 Relatively shortly afterwards Christian structures appear in the city for the first time but it would be foolish to postulate that, in less than half a century, the city had become fully Christianised. Instead it is likely that the municipal authorities simply did not have the money to restore the temples, after all it was external officials who paid for the reconstruction of the baths and the elevation of statues to the emperors. Moreover, the Christianised imperial authorities can hardly have been expected to help the city reconstruct its temples. The Churches on the other hand did have the resources and, following the destruction in the city, the opportunity, to put up new buildings in previously occupied areas.

During the fourth century, and probably after the destruction of 365, a sacred area was created in the northeastern part of the town.406 This involved the foundation of two churches, two baptisteries, an atrium, sacristies and a cistern. This was a substantial project and would have been a reasonably expensive attempt to provide space for worship. These churches were built over earlier structures, including an earlier baths, although it is possible that these were already abandoned by the time of their erection.407 Their insertion into the eastern area, which was peripheral to the nucleus of the post-catastrophe city, no doubt created a new focus for the citizens of Sabratha with an element of bi-focality between the central monumental area, which was rebuilt following the earthquake, and this new sacred site. Despite the creation of a new locus of worship there is no evidence that this created a new area of settlement around the churches later than the disaster, perhaps because the city did not survive long enough in any really viable form into the late Vandal period. The presence of the Christian complex in an area that was abandoned following the cataclysm in the mid-fourth century, may have kept alive the concept of Sabratha in its earlier totality in the minds of the city’s population. If the population did keep

As has been noted, there are indications from the early third century onwards that Sabratha was not flourishing as it had under the Antonines. Perhaps the lack of third century building could be attributed to the elite and the city having to cope with the demands placed upon them by the

403

Gesta Coll. Carth. I.133.304 See Figure 23. Lepelley 1981, 84. 405 Lepelley 1981, 83-4 and Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 7-10. The latter article defines the fourth-century church as occupying two-thirds of the judicial basilica. 406 See Figure 23. 407 Goodchild and Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1953, 15-19. 404

408

Lepelley 1981, 378. Kenrick 1986, 68. 410 Brouquier-Reddé 1992, 63. 411 Mattingly 1995, 185; Brouquier-Reddé 1992, 54. Figure 23 reflects these changes in the Late Roman period. 409

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comprehensively by Swanson and others.414 They argue that the evidence of such trade is extremely scanty while the evidence for an agricultural basis to the Tripolitanian city’s prosperity is plentiful and secure. In either case, and the former seems much more likely, the catalogue of problems that befell the city in the fourth century seem likely to have impacted severely on the economy, and therefore the potential for the Sabrathans to be able to reconstruct their Antonine heyday, even if they wished to. Instead late fourth century building was in the new Christian milieu.

construction programme of the late second century. By the early fourth century there are indications that some new works were being undertaken again, possibly suggesting a recovery in the civic finances, but these stopped in the mid-fourth century just after the earthquake. The concentration on civic buildings at the expense of the religious structures points to the city’s establishment making pragmatic decisions about the city’s priorities. Any decision on where to concentrate resources may have been informed by the hostility to pagan cult among some of the North African population and the Imperial hierarchy. To some extent it is a surprise that the city could not recover from the disaster more fully. An economy based on olive oil export to the Mediterranean World should have been able to withstand a temporary, even if catastrophic, set-back like an earthquake. If Dore is right about a down-turn in the Sabrathan economy by the third century, and Tripolitanian exports to Rome certainly seem to have been losing out to those of Proconsularis at this stage, then the disaster and the resultant loss of life may have crippled elements of a weakened economy when the city was least able to deal with it. Later tribal raids would not have helped the situation. The insurgency of the Austoriani during the early 360s and further attacks in the 380s when a joint embassy was sent from Gigthis, Lepcis and Sabratha to the imperial court, possibly to get military help in order to put down a new barbarian rebellion in the South, would not have improved the economic situation. Instability reaching the agricultural hinterland would have further weakened the region’s position in the Mediterranean economy.412 Alternatively it has been hypothesised that the city relied, to a large extent, on the trans-Saharan luxury trade as its viable territorium was too small to have created enough wealth for such a large and well-appointed city to exist.413 If this were the case then the seismic activity in the 360s would not have disturbed this trade pattern beyond the possible deaths of some of its practitioners at Sabratha. The insurgency of the Austoriani during the early 360s and possibly again in the 380s could have severely disrupted the trade. Any interruption in trans-Saharan trade at a time when the city was under severe stress may have hampered the town’s recovery. The hypothesis of an important trans-Saharan trade route to Lepcis and Sabratha has been attacked

412

This embassy was attested in the inscriptions that went with statues to L. Aemilius Quintus set up in the three cities. See Lepcis case study. 413 Kenrick 1986, 312 citing unpublished writings of J.B. Ward-Perkins.

414

Law 1967, 181-200; Bovill 1968, 40-44; Swanson 1975, 582-600.

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CHAPTER 5 DISCUSSION

INTRODUCTION

CONTINUATION OF EUERGETISM?

The case studies provided individual examples of the processes occurring in late Roman North African cities; these will now be discussed in a more general framework. These processes include: the continued upkeep of earlier buildings and the maintenance of municipal titles; the Christianisation of the urban topography; the extension of the urban area in the late third and fourth centuries; the provision and development of housing; the maintenance of trade; and the building of wall circuits. Changes in the urban fabric of the North African cities examined in the previous chapter will have had both ideological and practical concepts associated with them and this will affect how the developments are viewed. As that is the case it will be necessary to bear in mind that human action can express power within a society through its rituals including their setting, their frequency and the artefacts used within them.1 These artefacts, settings and times can therefore symbolise power as long as the viewer recognises the meaning of the structures and expressions of power and is willing to obey the rules that govern their expression.2 Buildings that are involved with the exercising of power gain an aura that can be maintained even when the specific form of power for which they are best known is not been being demonstrated within them. The bishop or priest who presided in his basilica took on some of the characteristics or qualities of the magistrate simply because they were encompassed by a space where symbolism would already have been familiar to a nonChristianised population. The clergy would not only have gained an aura of awe and respect but also some of the sense of judicial authority backed by sacred power that the magistrate had. This would reinforce the Christian concept of the bishop and priest as having specialised, if not exclusive, access to God and would have emphasised the power and authority of the priest both to a Christian, and indeed wider, population.3

There is a very definite continuation of the early imperial tradition of euergetism in the case studies, although it is on a smaller scale than during the earlier period. It has been suggested that the African aristocracy had an innate presumption in favour of conservatism and that the North African elite, while the wealthy of other provinces increasingly concentrated upon their private dwellings and estaes, but also maintained the fabric of the towns alongside the elaboration of their rural domains. Conservatism in itself, though, is not the same as inertia; it is a positive choice, a desire to maintain the old traditions (whilst their peers elsewhere made new decisions about where they wanted to spend their wealth). It was necessary for the elite to be able to justify the continued expenditure of large sums of money on building projects. Africa had generally been spared the turmoil that engulfed large areas of the western provinces during the third and fifth centuries. The traumas that Gaul and Italy had faced in the course of these centuries, when large-scale Germanic invasions and major civil wars raged across them, made the difficulties of Africa seem inconsequential in comparison.4 This may have created conditions where it was simply natural to continue in the rhythms of life as they had done for three hundred plus years. Without a major cataclysm or trauma point in African life then the conditions for a major re-assessment of priorities may have been avoided. The persistence of the classical tradition into the fifth century could have been due to the established order maintaining its status and right to dominate society by continuing the age-old way of doing things. Given the lack of major dislocation in African society until the Vandal invasion it is unlikely that it was a new and changing elite consciously harking back to past times in an attempt to legitimise themselves. The lack of a stimulus for change, and some important reasons in favour of continuity, would have made it less likely that changes would occur.

1

Giddens 1984, 2-14 and Grahame 1997, 52 Revell 1999, 53. Cyprian, Ep. 45.3 and 59.4 emphasises the status and power of priests with regard to their community. 2 3

4

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See Chapter 3.

There are certain indications of change at several North African cities but these appear to be linked to specific problems. Sitifis, Sufetula, Cuicul, Thuburbo, Theveste and Carthage demonstrate continuity of development and ideology throughout the entire fourth century, although there is a substantial drop-off in the number of inscriptions erected from the heights of the Antonine and Severan periods. Ammaedara and Tipasa show a decline in traditional building in the fourth century although the latter replaced this with the erection of large Christian structures. Lepcis and Thamugadi display a collapse in the provision of inscriptions at precise periods. At Lepcis this was following a stressful moment in its history, while the changes at Thamugadi are more difficult to understand.5 There was certainly a huge decline in inscriptions from the early to late Roman periods at Thamugadi, but Fentress has explained the massive number of inscriptions in the earlier era at the city as being due to what she terms as ‘epigraphomania’. She postulates that this was largely due to the desire of the frontier elite to demonstrate their romanitas. By the fourth century, with three centuries of Roman rule behind them and the cultural artefacts of Roman civilisation around them, the elite of Thamugadi may not have felt the need to so conspicuously declare their allegiance to Rome. So on this hypothesis there may not be a loss of ability to pay for inscriptions but the lack of a desire to do so. Alternatively the decline in documented work at the city could have been due to the exactions of Bishop Optatus. If he did confiscate property and take over the functions of the ordo the aristocracy may have retreated to their estates and private houses to avoid his ire. Sabratha, meanwhile, only partially recovered following widespread destruction in the mid-fourth century. It may be that these stresses convinced the local aristocracies that it was no longer worthwhile trying to maintain the existing urban landscape following specific problems. At Sabratha the job of restoring the city may have just been so intimidating, coupled with a possible decline in available wealth, that the aristocracy no longer had the means nor motive to restore the city. Thamugadi, Lepcis and Sabratha all demonstrate that external forces could act against the continuity of the urban ideology and infrastructure, strengthening the concept that continuity was a positive choice rather than inertia.

demonstrated in Table 1 and Fig. 24, which show the disposition through time of those datable inscriptions.6 A large proportion of the inscriptions found at one hundred and sixty-one sites throughout the African provinces of the late Empire correspond to the period after the demise of the Constantinian House in 363. No less than 34.69% of the total inscriptions and 40.83% from the case studies relate to this period, although in a smaller sample a few inscriptions can distort the figures wildly. It seems that in most cities there was no imperative to change the way of life that had persisted before the late Empire. Carthage appears to have suffered badly during the repression that followed Maxentius’ defeat of Domitius Alexander in 311. However at Carthage, unlike at other damaged cities, the emperor (in this case Constantine I) put Imperial money into repairing the city as inscriptions naming him as a new founder or a restitutor make clear.7 At Carthage then a continuation of civic life and euergetism later in the century may, to a large extent, have been due to the cushioning of the municipal aristocracy by the Imperial authorities during the reign of Constantine.8 What does the apportionment of the inscriptions throughout the fourth century show? There are evidently two important peaks in inscription numbers compared to what would be expected if there were an even distribution of inscriptions throughout the entire period.9 These can be seen during the reign of Diocletian, Maximian and the first tetrarchy and during the period from the death of Julian to the death of Valens. What can the reason be for this and why was there a slump during the regime of the House of Constantine? The tetrarchic period was clearly an era of regeneration and renewal after half a century of instability, so it is hardly surprising that all the provinces of Africa show renewed signs of municipal building.10 The plethora of victories

6 For the purposes of Table 1 and Fig. 24, inscriptions to Gratian as Augustus without further indications of date are considered to be later than 379 although it is recognised that they could be as early as 367, while those to Honorius or Arcadius Augustus are considered to be later than 395 although they could be as early as 383 or 393. It is also recognised that from 429 most of Africa was in Vandal hands, as was Carthage from 439 and that it was not until 442 that the western part of Numidia and the Mauretanian provinces were temporarily returned to the Empire. This meant that erecting statues to the emperor was impossible in certain areas in the last date bracket and even the reconstruction of buildings was very difficult in the troubled times. Nevertheless the date bracket was taken to 450 and the death of Theodosius II for ease and completeness. 7 Lepelley 1981, 14. 8 Cf. Carthage case study. 9 Table 1 and Table 2. 10 See Kotula 1985 for the ideologies demonstrated by these tetrarchic texts.

These problems at individual cities do not seem to be general to all the North African cities as is 5 Fentress 1984, 399-407 ‘If an inscription in Latin signifies a specific social connection to Rome and its civilization, a lack of this connection is signified by silence,’ p. 400.

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Table 1 – Construction, re-construction and honorific inscriptions in Africa. Date 282-285 284-305 305-313 313-337 337-363 363-379 379-395 395-450 Total

Number of municipal and euergetistic inscriptions from all African cities (% of total) 8 (1.6%) 130 (26.2%) 35 (7.1%) 81 (16.3%) 62 (12.5%) 98 (19.8%) 47 (9.5%) 35 (7.1%) 496

Number of municipal and euergetistic inscriptions from the case study cities (% of total) 4 (3.33%) 24 (20%) 8 (6.67%) 15 (12.50%) 18 (15%) 25 (20.83%) 14 (11.67%) 10 (8.33%) 120

Table 2 – Expected distribution of inscriptions in Africa. Date 282-285 284-305 305-313 313-337 337-363 363-379 379-395 395-450

Number of inscriptions expected (on average) if there was an even distribution throughout the period 8.86 62 23.61 70.85 76.76 47.23 47.23 162.38

Expected percentage of total inscriptions if there was an even distribution throughout the period 1.79% 12.5% 4.76% 14.28% 15.47% 9.52% 9.52% 32.73%

Table 3 – Late third to early fifth century building work. Date 282-285 284-305 305-313 313-337 337-363 363-379 379-395 395-450 Total

Proconsularis: reconstructions constructions 0 32 3 17 18 33 17 13 133

and

Byzacena: reconstructions constructions 0 13 0 3 2 2 1 0 21

and

Numidia: reconstructions constructions 1 15 1 2 1 24 9 3 56

and

in a new, settled period. In many ways the Antonine and Severan eras can be viewed as demonstrating considerable over-spend beyond the ‘normative’ level. The third century up to the tetrarchic period can be seen as a period of recovery and the late Empire demonstrates a return to more sustainable levels of expenditure. The considerable disbursement of funds during the second and early third centuries might also explain why much of the late imperial building projects were refurbishments of earlier structures. First, the costs of maintaining earlier structures may have demanded the bulk of the aristocracy’s funds leaving them little to spend on their own projects. Second, with cities possessing a full complement of structures, the elite and populace

that the emperors recorded also led to numerous arches and dedications being erected in their honour. In the conditions of a long stable reign cities and individuals may also have been more willing to spend their money on building projects, their confidence in the Empire would have been renewed and there would also have been an element of expressing loyalty to the new regime by starting to build again. Another reason for the decision to regenerate the urban area may be that the eighty years between the Severan expenditure and the tetrarchic spending may have given the aristocracy of North Africa chance to recoup their losses providing them with the money to begin building

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in general may not have felt the need to construct duplicates.11

particularly applies to the former, would have had to be hastily changed to reflect the new political reality.14

Lepelley attributes the decline in spending during the reigns of Constantine I, Constans and Constantius II to the financial measures under the dynasty that deprived the curiae of the municipal taxes that were previously often used to construct or repair public structures. It was not until 358 that Constantius II returned a proportion of these revenues to the councils to aid them in construction works.12 Such a confiscation would certainly have depressed some construction within the cities but this explanation does not satisfactorily account for the lack of building by individuals or groups of individuals as euergetistic acts. The decline in commemorated works in this period may correspond to the drop in inscriptions during the third century. The fact that building in the tetrarchic period was comparatively prolific after the figurative desert of the previous era, may have sated the building instincts of the curiae. Such a peak of activity could be almost guaranteed to end with the aristocracy being inclined to rest on their laurels. In many ways building within North Africa, and by extension, the Empire, can be seen as cyclical with natural peaks and troughs.

There may also be more than an element of confidence in the future displayed by the erection of buildings and dedications. Africa, with the exception of Tripolitania, had known half a century of relative peace with only the Donatist/Catholic schism and the corresponding violence causing problems. The destruction produced by the squabble, in particular the depredations of the Circumcellions, seems mainly to have been aimed at the Catholic clergy and congregations. The only period before 379 when this was conceivably not the case was in the early 340s, when according to Optatus the Circumcellions attacked landowners, creditors and slave-owners.15 Even this may be Catholic rhetoric about the opposition undermining the social order. It may be that by this period the creation of Constantinople, and Rome’s subsequent reliance on North Africa for foodstuffs, had created a rise in wealth within the provinces that needed some conduit and as the traditional outlet euergetism was the release for some of this wealth. The rise in population demonstrated at certain sites in North Africa such as Thamugadi and Sitifis may have been a response to the increase in wealth and a concomitant rise in standards of living. Certain provinces did particularly well during the early years of the House of Valentinian. Although North Africa as a whole saw by far its largest epigraphic peak occurring during the tetrarchic period this is not true of individual provinces. Proconsularis shows its peak of municipal inscriptions occurring during the period 363-379; this is echoed when only those inscriptions that demonstrate the construction or reconstruction of buildings are considered.16 Whilst Numidia echoes the general graph for Africa when all inscriptions are considered (40 inscriptions of the tetrarchic period compared to 31 for the period 363-379), the province demonstrates its principal peak in the later of the two date ranges when only constructions and reconstructions are considered.17 This can be satisfactorily explained when it is considered that cities often put up statues or dedications to all four of the tetrarchs, in the period 363-379 there were a maximum of three at any one time and often fewer. The peak in reconstructions and constructions in Numidia during the later period is in part related to one

The explanation of the peak during the reign of Valentinian I and Valens, and in particular between 364 and 367, is likely to be complex. Lepelley notes the upturn in the later years of Constantius II in the number of inscriptions, which suggests that a new trend towards building was under way before the joint reign, and the return of the rents from municipal land to the curiae under Julian.13 The return of civic finances would have been crucial for maintenance of buildings, as it would have allowed the cities to pay for work rather than having to rely on the generosity of individuals. Other factors would certainly have contributed to the peak in the brother’s reign. Municipal expenditure was supplemented by individual contributions from the elite, which after the break during the reign of the Constantinian dynasty may have either recovered from previous expenses and/or may have felt the need to demonstrate their personal magnificence and generosity on the urban stage again. The years 364 to 367 may also be explained by the abrupt changes of regime in 363-4; buildings that were started in these years and were due to be dedicated to Julian and Jovian, and this point

14 Pagan and possibly Donatist donators may have preferred to keep Julian’s name on them but they are unlikely to have risked the general opprobrium and suspicions of disloyalty that such an action would have brought on to them. 15 Optatus, III.4 16 Table 3, Figs. 24-26. 17 Lepelley 1979, 14.

11

Lepelley 1979, 65. Lepelley 1979, 70. 13 Lepelley 1979, 70, 98-106; Jones 1964, 732-734. For the return of rents: CTh. X.3.1, CJ XI.70.1; Amm. Marc. XXV.4.15. 12

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governor. Publilius Caeionius Caecina Albinus, who was in office between 364 and 367, appears to have been concerned about the maintenance of the urban fabric; his name is found on no less than fourteen inscriptions scattered throughout Numidia. The inscriptions relating to him demonstrate that usually he did not pay for or even direct the works, but he is often named as inaugurating them, which suggests that he told the municipal authorities to keep buildings in good condition on his tours throughout the province. The inscriptions relating to Albinus clearly demonstrate that although ancient history is often seen as a series of processes and developments independent of individuals, one person could have a substantial effect on the cities.

tentative. It is clear that Mauretanian urbanisation was comparatively feeble compared to the other provinces, there were fewer cities, which were spaced further apart, most revolts in the diocese occurred in the province and the lack of extensive plateaux or farmland limited agricultural development and therefore prosperity.21 Whilst some cities show a marked decline or a halt in the number of inscriptions commemorating the construction of buildings in the mid-fourth century others demonstrate a continued commitment to the preservation and beautification of the urban landscape in the late fourth century. Cuicul, Theveste, Sabratha, Carthage and Thuburbo all have preserved inscriptions that demonstrate the continuity of urban construction and regeneration into the late fourth century but other cities in the case studies may also have continued to build or repair without leaving inscriptions. After the reign of Valentinian and Valens there was some continuity into the reigns of Gratian, Valentinian II and Theodosius, but the burst of traditional building activity in the mid-360s was not repeated. If the cycle of ‘boom and bust’ in commemorated secular building work was to have continued the end of the fourth century should have demonstrated an upswing and it is in precisely this period that the bulk of Christian construction in the provinces occurs. African wealth was now diverted from theatres and temples towards churches. The Vandalic occupation only served to make this state of affairs permanent.

It is more difficult to say anything meaningful about the other provinces due to the fact that there are very few inscriptions from them. Both Tripolitania and Mauretania Sitifensis had few cities and many of the principal sites in Byzacena have sustained continuous occupation since the Roman period limiting the amount of useful archaeological research that can be done on them. Despite this it is noticeable that Byzacena demonstrates a very low level of datable constructions and reconstructions before and after the tetrarchic period. Of course it is possible that the systematic excavation of the forum and central area of a large city such as Hadrumetum might change the picture entirely.18 Tripolitania shows a peak of inscriptions in the period of 337363 and it is tempting to link the failure to find a peak in the period 363-379 to the catastrophes that befell the province in the years up to 365; by 419 the province could be characterised as being impoverished by the Council of Carthage.19 This is a plausible conclusion, Tripolitania only had five real urban centres and of these Sabratha, Lepcis and Oea were by the far largest. The problems faced by Sabratha and Lepcis in the early 360s and the concomitant decline in inscriptions impact heavily on the image of urban vitality. Additionally a law of the Theodosian Code of 393 demonstrates that by that date the cities of Tripolitania were finding it difficult to recruit enough decurions to undertake compulsory public duties; the law commands the governor Silvanus to enrol plebeians if they possessed the necessary property requirements when money and land was added together.20 The Mauretanias, Caesarensis and Sitifensis, follow the same pattern as that produced by Byzacena but again, the very small sample of datable inscriptions make conclusions based on this very

Seemingly the African provinces as a whole continued to use the traditional expressions of wealth, as well as paternalistic and patronal euergetism, into the later Empire. Indeed the very late third century and the first three quarters of the fourth century saw a dramatic increase in the number of inscriptions from what had immediately gone before. The period 282-285 saw an average of 2.67 inscriptions per year, which reflects earlier trends, whilst the period from the start of the reign of Diocletian to the end of that of Valens saw an average of 4.27 per year. All the provinces of Africa appear to have benefited from this increase but the trend was strongest in Proconsularis and Numidia, probably due to their agricultural wealth.22 In terms of 21 Lepelley 1979, 52, There was a revolt in the province under the tetrarchs between 289 and 298, which were crushed by Maximian, one between 353 and 362, and of course the revolt of Firmus between 371 and 375 that was suppressed by Count Theodosius and caused severe damage to Iol Caesarea. 22 This wealth is confirmed by the Expositio totius mundi et gentium, 60 and 61, which states of Numidia that it was a {footnote continues}

18

Table 3 Figs. 24-27 Council of Carthage, Canons 14 and 49. 20 CTh. XII.1.133 27/03/393 19

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inscriptions produced at each site, and therefore the strength of the epigraphic tradition, Tripolitania was the strongest province although this declined in later years and Numidia too was particularly strong. Proconsularis and Byzacena do surprisingly badly on the ratio of inscriptions to sites, but this is likely due to the fact that the coast of Byzacena and Proconsularis as a whole are today the most densely populated sector of the study area leading to problems of preservation and recovery of inscriptions. Excavation and un-datable inscriptions confirm the picture of continued euergetism provided by the accurately dated inscriptions. Carthage in its wall-circuit, Sitifis in its circus, amphitheatre, walls and governor’s residence, Ammaedara with its troughed building and associated constructions and Sufetula with its fountains, all demonstrate that building was occurring that either was not commemorated or the inscriptions have been lost. The case studies seem to demonstrate that the late imperial cities saw continuing wealth and as a result the continued means to erect and maintain buildings.

THE FUNDING OF CONSTRUCTION AND RECONSTRUCTION Who was paying for the continued maintenance and development of the public buildings during the late Empire? The simple answer of course was that the aristocracy was responsible, but which parts? The epigraphic evidence demonstrates that municipal aristocrats, senators, lower imperial functionaries, governors, and vicars all contributed to the process. It is difficult to assess the effect of the laws forbidding unnecessary building at the expense of repairing earlier structures. Like all late Roman laws its very existence implies that such activity was prolific enough to attract the scrutiny of the imperial bureaucracy but the repetition could be interpreted as demonstrating its inefficacy.23 To some extent there was overlapping between elite ‘classes’. A local aristocrat who escaped from his duties to the city by joining the imperial bureaucracy was still a local aristocrat who might be willing to make some donation to the upkeep of his native city, even if he was not prepared to fulfil his duties on a more general and regular basis. The case studies do demonstrate that there was considerable expenditure by the ordo, curators and individual aristocrats on the cities, not everything was being left to the governors or other imperial officials; decurions were still taking responsibility for their home towns and had enough money to do so. Even where a governor is mentioned in the text they often did little more than inaugurate the works or suggest that they be carried out, the town or its curator met the costs. At Cuicul for example where the governor Albinus instigated the construction of the basilica vestiaria but Rutilius Saturninus paid for its construction.24 The presence of governor’s names on many inscriptions for works that they did not financially contribute to demonstrates the importance of their patronage.

The process of the decline of the ‘epigraphic habit’ in the rest of the Empire has been described in Chapter 3. In terms of North Africa it is clear that, despite the fact that the cities do demonstrate some continuity in their inscriptions and archaeology, there had been a decline in the number of inscriptions in North African cities from the second-century height. This indicates that there had been some change in the way that the elite projected themselves in the public sphere but this decline had not been as profound in North Africa as elsewhere in the Empire in the fourth and early fifth centuries. This suggests that although change was occurring, the North African elite was more likely to maintain continuity with the past than other elites in the rest of the Empire. Reasons for this continuity have already been discussed but again the relative stability of North Africa in the period must be seen as a factor in the maintenance of the tradition while the collapse in the number of inscriptions in the period 395-450 could be explained by the uncertainties and chaos in the Empire as a whole multiplying and then overtaking North Africa in particular.

The money for the development of the cities undoubtedly came from various sources, from private resources but also via official government channels and non-official abuse of position or power; e.g. the diversion of parts of the grain shipments to Rome into private hands, the skimming-off of pay or supplies to the army or the use of one’s position to solicit bribes. The construction and re-construction of the cities of North Africa probably depended on a number of avenues of finance, not all of them being strictly ‘legitimate’. The money gained by what modern people would label corruption could, however, be positively damaging to the cities as imperial

province abundant in produce: ‘provincia fructibus abundans et sibi sufficiens’ and of Proconsularis that it was rich in all things: ‘Ab hoc provincia Africae regio dives in omnibus invenitur: omnibus bonis ornata est, fructibus quoque et jumentis, et paene ipsa omnibus gentibus usum olei praestat’.

23 24

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For instance CTh. XV.1.37 and 50. See the Cuicul case study above.

functionaries drained off resources from the provincials, some of which might be recycled by their benefactions but certainly not all. Indeed such profiteering and its subsequent results can be seen working in the corruption and rapacity of the Count Romanus in the province of Tripolitania and Mauretania, the latter acting as a catalyst in the rebellion of Firmus. Such episodes were clearly disastrous for the provincials and for the Empire as a whole when the loss of tax revenues, soldiers and allied native tribesmen are considered.25 THE CONSTRUCTION CIRCUITS

OF

Lepcis was walled at some stage during the late Empire and it is likely that Sabratha was too. It is possible that both sets of fortifications were a response to the restlessness of the Austoriani. Figures 19/20 and 22/23 demonstrate the topographical changes that this created at the two cities. The size and function of the ramparts at these cities clearly makes a definitive statement about what is inside and what is outside of the city. Buildings outside of the walls at these cities were often abandoned or destroyed in creating the fortifications, those within the enceintes were preserved and protected; as we shall see later the only large monuments that remained outside of the walls were extramural churches. Those who paid for and planned the walls made decisions about where they would go and these determinations affected the composition and functioning of the city.

WALL

The nature of wall circuits elsewhere in the Empire has been discussed above.26 North Africa does not seem to share in this tradition. Whilst Thamugadi and Cuicul were walled from their inceptions as coloniae they hardly display the requisite upkeep of their circuits if they were considered important monuments. Thamugadi appears to have its restrictive circuit around the original castrum removed sometime in the second century, as the city quickly expanded beyond its bounds (the walls were found principally beneath the remains of late secondcentury homes such as the House of Sertius).27 Given that the city was only constructed under Trajan the enceinte was kept for less than one hundred years or around three generations. The inhabitants of Cuicul, by the late Empire, no longer considered their wall-circuit to be necessary as a civil basilica was constructed over its line.28 Figure 12 shows the way that the apse of the basilica was cut through the wall; the entire circuit of the wall was compromised by a single decision of the community or builder as the basilica was far more important than the preservation of a secure walled town. Tipasa, while walled from 147, displayed the type of wall circuit that was found north of the Mediterranean at towns such as Nimes, namely an extensive circuit that did not have its entire interior built up. These walls, unlike those of Cuicul and Thamugadi, were maintained in the late Empire as new towers and gates were added between 305 and 306. Seemingly Thuburbo, Ammaedara, Theveste and Sufetula were never walled despite being substantial towns. These towns were not established with them and their inhabitants either made a conscious decision when they could have done or did not have the finances to do so.

In the case of Lepcis at least, as the capital of the province, the wall may have been constructed at the instigation of a governor. Imperial intervention, at some level, was certainly responsible for the construction of the circuits around Carthage and Sitifis. The walls of Sitifis were built in the second half of the fourth century as part of the response to the city’s elevation to the status of provincial capital.29 At Carthage the walls were built on the express instruction of Theodosius II in 425 at the very end of the period after the sack of Rome when conceivably the inhabitants, and this would be the traditional view of their construction, were beginning to become nervous as the Sueves and Vandals moved south through Spain.30 However, the walls of Carthage were extensive and their lack of defensive qualities was ably demonstrated by the Vandals when they quickly took the city in 439. It is more likely that they were erected because the Imperial government felt that such an important city ought to have its own walls. As with many of the other cities throughout the Empire the construction of walls at Carthage was as much to do with questions of status and what it meant to be a city as it was to do with the threat of Germanic invasions. Importantly, many of the towns and cities of the case studies, including those that did have walls in the late Empire, required the construction of new fortresses or strongholds or alternatively reduced wall circuits during the Byzantine reoccupation.31 This was the case at Carthage, Ammaedara, Sufetula, Thamugadi, Theveste, Sitifis and 29

Février 1964, 682. It is interesting that it was the Eastern emperor who ordered their construction presumably because Johannes, the Western emperor in 425, was considered to be an ‘usurper’ by the East and Africa. 31 Pringle 1981, 179-180, 208-209. 30

25

Zos. Historia Nova, IV.16. MacMullen 1988 Chapter 3. Février 1982a, 346. See Figures 13-15. 28 See the Cuicul case study. 26 27

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Lepcis. In terms of military practicalities the cities of North Africa did not measure up to Byzantine standards but ideological factors may have been at work during the Byzantine reoccupation.

WATER PROVISION IN LATE ROMAN NORTH AFRICA It is not surprising that the case studies demonstrate considerable expenditure on the provision of water in North Africa. The prolific and lavish use of water in such a hot, dry environment would have been even more of a demonstrator of wealth and status than in many other regions and provinces of the Roman Empire. Furthermore, the extravagant use of water could be seen not just as conspicuous consumption but also as a conquest over the harsh nature of a North African summer.34 This could have engendered strong feelings of pride in a community that was able to exploit a scarce natural resource in such a manner. This section will then show the ways in which those monuments that utilised water were maintained into the fourth-century and beyond.

This seems to indicate that on the whole viable wall-circuits were not generally considered a defining characteristic of a city in North Africa at this period. Lepelley attributes the lack of walls purely to the absence of a military threat in the central African provinces for around four centuries while cities in Tripolitania and the Mauretanias, which suffered revolts and invasion during Roman hegemony, had had walls from the second century onwards.32 Cuicul and Thamugadi were built with them at the start of the second century; a group in north-central Caesarensis date from the mid second century; a group in Tingitania date from the mid to late second century; and another set in southern Caesarensis were built under the later Severans through to Gordian III.33 Despite this, fortifications, as has been noted elsewhere for other parts of the Empire, were clearly not perceived to be merely for defence, indeed areas that had not previously suffered at the hands of Germanic or Persian invaders also gained circuits as they defined a city as a city. In the eastern African provinces, as we have seen, this seems not to have been the case despite the fact that to the west the Mauretanias were full of examples that could have provided a catalyst to a change in ideas. Perhaps these examples were too distant and not at important enough cities in the minds of the African aristocracy; this would certainly be true of the southern group of wall-circuits on the border of Caesarensis or those in Tingitania at the very ends of the Roman Empire. Surely, however, the African senatorial aristocracy was well aware of developments in other provinces from their travels and contacts abroad, why did they not feel that such defences were appropriate for North African cities? Perhaps in the absence of any particular motivation to build walls for defensive purposes the population of North Africa continued the classical tradition of having open cities on valley floors or on plateaux. Those circuits that were constructed seem, overwhelmingly, to indicate that it was people beyond the municipal North African aristocracy that believed that a city should have a wallcircuit and imposed their ideas onto the cities.

32 33

False Water The importance of water to the North African population can be seen in the way that the rich decorated their houses with mosaics depicting sea and water scenes.35 Numerous examples of this can be seen in the cities of North Africa throughout the Roman period (especially from the second century) and this is certainly true of the fourth century. Many mosaics that use the theme of water in the late period are associated with real water in the form of pools or basins. For instance the House of the Cascade at Thuburbo Maius had a marine scene placed underneath an inclined channel that led to a basin.36 In some way the ‘false’ water amplifies the real thing and this is especially the case with those scenes that also provide depictions of fish. They provide the owner with a construction or mosaic redolent of a sense of luxury, fertility and freshness. While it does not seem that there was any greater prevalence of water mosaics in the late Roman period than earlier in the Roman Empire it demonstrates continuity of a stylistic theme and the importance of water to North Africans in the late Empire.

34

For baths as a conquest over nature see Zajac 1999, 99-105. Not just in the case studies either. For example: Alexander and Ennaifer 1973, 4. Alexander, Saida and Ennaifer 1976, 21, 40-2, 44 (at Utica), 59 (at Uzalis) Alexander, et al. 1980, 143. Ben Abed-Ben Khader, et al. 1985, 41, 45, 62, 67, 82. On a related theme there are also many Venus mosaics in North Africa, which either show her at her bath or in a seachariot. At Sitifis, for instance, there is one example in the fifth century central baths and another in the late fourth/early fifth century baths in the northwest quarter. Mohamedi, et al. 1991, 71-81. 36 Alexander and Ennaifer 1973, 22 35

Lepelley 1979, 18 and 40. See Jouffroy 1982, 202-3 and 239-41.

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to ban it.39 In this, as in much else in the late Roman Empire, Christianity had little effect; there was no serious or coordinated attempt on the part of the Christian elite, whether clergy or lay followers, to eliminate bathing.40

Fountains and Nymphaea There are only two examples in the case studies of fountains or nymphaea being constructed in this period, at Sufetula and Tipasa, despite their obvious importance to North African cities in earlier periods. Given the importance of water, as demonstrated by the baths and mosaics, the fact that there are only two examples is something of a surprise. In the late Empire, North African aristocrats perhaps felt that maintaining existing monuments was expensive enough in terms of both water consumption and preservation without building any more of this sort of construction. Instead construction and maintenance of water using buildings was concentrated on the bathhouses.

Bath construction and reconstruction occurs at several of the towns and cities detailed above; Carthage, Sufetula, Cuicul, Thamugadi, Sitifis, Sabratha, Theveste, Tipasa, and Thuburbo all demonstrate the construction or reconstruction of bath buildings during the late Empire (see Table 4). Baths are often found attached to churches or episcopal groups probably both for the opportunities afforded by them for ritual cleansing and for the more prosaic reason of general washing by the clergy. With the sole exception of the Unfinished Baths at Lepcis Magna it is apparent that no large baths complexes were constructed during the fourth or fifth centuries in North Africa; although as has been shown above in the case studies, and is summarised in Table 4, these large bath complexes were often kept in a good state of repair, modified, and improved in this period.

The maintenance and construction of baths Baths continued to be maintained into the fourth and fifth centuries at most towns and into the sixth century at others. The cultural, recreational and economic value of these establishments to communities throughout North Africa is obvious in this maintenance and construction. The enduring popularity of these structures may also have been due in part to their neutral nature when it came to religious ideology. Unlike theatres, odeons, circuses, and amphitheatres, baths had few idolatrous overtones and could theoretically be enjoyed by all the city’s population whether pagan or Christian. While that is the case there was an open, and continuing, debate in the late Roman World about the appropriateness of public nudity as Christian mores impacted upon the traditional, laissez-faire, attitude still common into the fourth century. It is difficult to penetrate beyond the rhetoric of some of the bishops. In classical culture, the status of the elite prevented them from being sullied by their exposure to the gaze of lesser mortals and the poorer classes either did not, or could not, afford to care about nudity in public, but this was gradually changed by Christian attitudes to sexual desire and the levelling of society.37 This debate was ongoing and had not, by the end of the fourth century, resulted in all Christians accepting that public nudity was to be avoided. Indeed this is shown by the anti-nudity rhetoric of some of the Church Fathers; why else were they pontificating on this subject if their flocks were not visiting the baths and luxuriating in the social and leisure environment they provided?38 Moreover the main concern of most of the Church Fathers from Clement of Alexandria onwards seems not to have been nudity per se but mixed bathing and that appears to have never been regarded well with various with various emperors having tried 37 38

Those baths that were constructed during the late Empire, and there are several examples in the case studies, were much smaller than those huge structures mentioned above. At least three of these baths are associated with churches (the baths in the northwest quarter at Sitifis while close to the double church are unlikely to be in a group with them), while the others, at Cuicul and Sitifis, seem to have been private establishments.41 Outside of the case studies this was also the case at Henchir Safia close to Theveste where a fourth century baths were built in a villa.42 Is this because only Church and private baths received the necessary support at this period? Had the rich decided to stop financing the construction of public baths in favour of their own needs, if Christian, and their religious community due to a shift in the way in which public euergetism was viewed? Had concepts of prestige and status shifted away from 39

According to the Scriptores Historiae Augustae Hadrian, Marcus Aurelius and Alexander Severus had attempted to ban mixed bathing. SHA Hadr. XVIII.10, Marc. XXIII.8 and Alex. Sev. XXIV.2. Nielsen 1990, 147-8. 40 Nielsen 1990, 138, 141. 41 There are two small, late, sets of baths at Sufetula but one has Byzantine pavements and may date exclusively from that era. The other is too badly known for use in this discussion. Duval 1982, 596-632. Many other North African cities also seem to show an increase in private bath construction in this period, cf. Thébert 1992, 380. It is necessary to caution that these tend to be dated by their mosaics, which are often late because of the general North African fourth century renewal. The actual baths may have been earlier but if their original pavements had been removed the quality of some excavations may not have deduced the true date of construction. 42 Fentress 1989, 336.

Brown 1988, 315-316. Brown 1988, 317.

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Table 4 – Baths in the fourth and fifth century AD. City/Town

Epigraphic evidence for baths at the city.

Archaeological evidence for baths at the city.

Carthage

317-18, construction of a baths. 340-350 work undertaken on a baths? 388-392, restoration of the Antonine Baths.

Thuburbo

Summer Baths restored in 361, another un-dated inscription probably refers to work done at these too. Two inscriptions mention work done on the winter baths.

Theveste

Baths restored during the late Empire.

Sufetula

Inscription shows a late restoration of the large baths.

Bir el Jebbana baths abandoned in the course of the fourth century. The private baths in the north of the city were of late fourth/early fifth century date. The second phase of the baths to the northwest of the Byrsa dates to the late fourth century. Antonine Baths abandoned after 425. Several phases of mosaic flooring at the Summer Baths extend from the early fourth to the early fifth century. Work on the Winter Baths occurred from the early fourth century to the late fifth/sixth century. The Baths of the Labyrinth show mosaics of the late third/early fourth century and of the fifth century. Mosaic of the Marine Venus at the Great Baths. A set of baths is associated with the late fourth-century Basilica I. It is possible that the baths are of sixth century date. Bath suites in the Houses of Europa, the Ass and Castorius all date to the fourth century. The large southern bath complex was partially abandoned, possibly in the late Roman period, but some mosaics were restored in the fourth century. A baths complex relates to the late fourth/early fifth century Christian complex. The small baths near the Severan Forum appear to have been converted into a private baths and a house in the later fourth century. Small set of baths linked with the ‘Western monastery’. Late fourth century date. The Small Central Baths have a mosaic pavement of later than the third century. The Baths of the Capitol and the Small Southern Baths are of a date between the late third century and the Byzantine period. The Northwest Baths are of the fourth century or later. The Small North Eastern and the Small Eastern Baths are believed to be late. In the late fourth century the small baths near the Severan forum were converted into a house and a private set of baths. Third century central baths rebuilt in the fifth century. Baths in the northwest quarter are of late fourth/early fifth century date. Episcopal group (late fourth/early fifth century) has an associated set of baths. ‘Unfinished’ Baths started in the fourth century.

imperial

Cuicul

Thamugadi

Large Southern Baths restored in the late Empire.

Sitifis

Tipasa Lepcis Sabratha

Baths of Hadrian restored in the late Empire. Baths restored before 378 in the late Empire.

building public monuments? This is unlikely. It is not clear who would have been permitted to use Church baths, the clergy certainly, but also perhaps the laity of the church and pilgrims. It could be argued that uneasiness about whether public nudity was acceptable to God was having

A set of baths lies underneath the Christian complex in the northeast of the town.

an impact in the North African cities as episcopal baths would have been tightly controlled and mixed bathing is unlikely to have taken place in them while the private baths of the rich show a deliberate segregation between the welcome guest and the excluded population. However, the

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continued maintenance, if not construction, of large baths and the fact there was no general assault upon public bathing, would seem to counter that argument.

THE CONSTRUCTION AND MAINTENANCE OF ENTERTAINMENT FACILITIES Walls and Baths are not the only structures that were either constructed or continued in use in the fourth and fifth centuries. The evidence of Augustine, Salvian and Quodvultdeus regarding Carthage suggests that the population still enjoyed the old forms of entertainment (although Salvian’s rhetoric should not necessarily be taken at face value). The evidence of the inscriptions demonstrates continued work on theatres and amphitheatres throughout the fourth century with the Diocletianic and Valentinianic periods showing the most work.44

Finally it is likely that the cities simply had no need for more large baths at this period after two and a half centuries of construction; Thamugadi had at least seventeen sets of baths, public and private, and Thuburbo had at least five large sets. The expenditure undertaken on them in the Antonine and Severan periods had been considerable and had left the population with a plethora of bathing establishments and a large annual bill for their upkeep.43 The construction of any more sets of public baths would have been unnecessary on any level other than the personal glory that the aristocrat could expect. In many ways this holds true for other types of construction too. The Antonine and Severan eras can be viewed as demonstrating considerable over-spend beyond the ‘normative’ level, the third century up to the tetrarchic period can be seen as a period of recovery with the late Empire being a return to more sustainable levels of expenditure. Even then the surfeit of constructions of this type and the fact that building any more baths would entail a severe burden on the towns and cities would certainly have limited the glory to be gained from their creation. The commitment to public bathing is evidenced through elite financing of improvements to the existing baths.

The games, with the gruesome deaths that they brought, were always a target for Christian hostility, not least because many Christian martyrs perished in them. Some of the earliest Christian heroes in North Africa, Perpetua and her comrades, died in the arena and the earliest North African polemicist Tertullian lambasted the games and pointed out their brutality. Despite being the focus of Christian ire, so powerful was the cultural pull of the games that Christians still attended them and, judging by Tertullian’s ranting, in considerable numbers around AD 200.45 Christian’s were still attending games over two hundred years later and one hundred years after the triumph of the Church. Augustine’s oft quoted, powerful description of Alypius’ mania for the games can almost be seen as the perfect example of attitudes towards bloodshed in the Christianised Empire.46 The works undertaken on circuses, theatres and amphitheatres throughout the case studies are the physical manifestations of this lust for blood and thirst for entertainment even among some Christians.47 Ecclesiastical recognition that this could not be changed can be seen in the Council of Carthage’s decision to seek to have spectacles moved from Sundays and Holy Days to prevent them clashing with Church services rather than to attempt to get them banned outright.48 Outside the diocesan capital, Sitifis may have gained an amphitheatre for the first time in the fourth century that of Thuburbo Maius seems to have been completely rebuilt and

New private and religious baths were, however, wanted and would only be a burden on those who had constructed them. That the aristocracy still wanted to keep the public baths in working order is obvious from the reconstruction and beautification work done on them throughout the late Empire, listed in Table 5. Although this is based on a fairly small sample of cities and towns, the range of sizes of settlements suggest that this picture would be typical for North Africa as a whole. The continued construction and repair of baths throughout many of the cities of North Africa into the late fourth and early fifth centuries demonstrates a decent level of prosperity and a desire to maintain something of the classical lifestyle.

44

See Fig. 29. Tertullian’s, On the Spectacles (Tert. De spect.) is an attack on the games, see chapter III for an attack on Christians going to the games; see also Apol., XV.5 and Ad nat., I.10.47 against the brutality of the games. 46 August. Conf., VII.6.13 47 Salvian, Gub. Dei. VI.12. Quodvultdeus, Sermo de tempore barbarico, I.1. August. Enarratio in Ps., 80, 102, 103, 146 and 147. Council of Carthage, Canon 15 demands that the sons of bishops should not attend spectacles. Table 5 summarises the evidence from the case studies for these constructions. 48 Council of Carthage, Canon 61 45

43

The upkeep cost would largely have been due to the action of water, the cost of labour and fuel. The tiny sums paid by individuals going to the baths would just about cover the cost of the slaves. (Lepelley 1981, 65; Lane Fox 1986, 53). Cf. Blyth 1999, 87-98 and Nielsen 1990, 122-5 and 131-4. Although these generally relate to Italy where there were probably greater reserves of lumber than in Proconsularis and Byzacena for example (although not Mauretania Caesarensis or Numidia). The fact that private baths were operated for profit demonstrates that costs could be covered.

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Table 5 – Theatres, amphitheatres and circuses in the fourth century AD. City/Town. Carthage

Ammaedara Thuburbo

Epigraphic/Literary evidence for entertainment facilities at the city Salvian (The Governance of God, VI.12) writes that games were thriving immediately before the Vandal conquest. Victor of Vita (History of the Vandal Persecution, I.47) and Luxorius mentions pantomimes. Augustine mentions theatrical performances, chariot racing, beast-hunting and gladiatorial combat in a number of contexts. I. L. Afr. 385 mentioning ‘populus Veneti’ Symmachus, proconsul of Africa in 373-74, erected statues in the amphitheatre. CIL VIII, 24584 Virius Audentius Aemilianus, proconsul of Africa between 379 and 383 re-established statues in the theatre. CIL VIII, 24588 and 24589 In 299 the porticoes of the theatre were restored. Dedications to Constantine II in the amphitheatre seem to suggest that the amphitheatre had work done on it at this period.

Theveste

Sufetula Cuicul Sitifis

Archaeological evidence for entertainment facilities at the city Fourth-century mosaic in the ‘palace’ at the foot of the Hill of Juno (blue and red riders). Late-fourth/early-fifth-century bird-circus mosaic. Early fifth century mosaic of the Greek Charioteers from the House of the Greek Charioteers.

Archaeological evidence suggests that the amphitheatre was completely rebuilt at this time. The amphitheatre seems to have been restored during the late third or fourth century. Mosaic of the Games at Thevestan Great Baths.

The theatre was either constructed or in all probability restored during the mid fourth century. The theatre was restored or developed between 367-375. The amphitheatre was constructed or repaired between 297-298 and again in 361-363. An inscription shows that the theatre was reconstructed during the late Empire.

Tipasa

The circus was constructed in the fourth century.

On the basis of the grid plan it has been postulated that the amphitheatre was late. This is not convincing however. The amphitheatre was abandoned in the 360s.

Lepcis

Theveste’s amphitheatre appears to have been restored during the late third or fourth century. Lepcis appears to have abandoned its amphitheatre but that is possibly more to do with the disaster of the 360s than a loss of enthusiasm.

were staged in Antioch while in the 330s the same emperor permitted the city of Hispellum to hold its games.50 It was not until the reign of Honorius that the practice was outlawed.51 Despite the disapproval of the Church the games still took place and even when an individual city ceased to put on combats, theatre, mime and hunts could still be staged in the amphitheatres. Indeed hunts might be considered to be perfect for North African cities as the region was the source for many of the beasts that were shipped to other parts of the Empire.

Constantine’s legislation on gladiatorial combat in 326 had not ended the use of amphitheatres throughout the Empire. Indeed it is unlikely that it had ever been designed to universally ban the sport.49 Wiedemann suggests that Constantine’s law was only intended to deal with a loss of labour in the mines near Berytus. He points out that three years after Constantine’s decree games

50

Wiedemann 1992, 157 regarding Hispellum, ILS 705 = CIL 11.5265. See also CTh., XV.12.2, which demonstrates that under Constantius and Julian gladiatorial combat was occurring at Rome. 51 CTh., XV.12.4.

49

The law of Constantine is in the CTh., XV.12.1; Theodoret, HE. V.26.

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Theatres and actors were targets of North African Christian hostility from Tertullian onwards due to the immorality and aspects of pagan religion that were incorporated into the performances.52 Augustine attacked the theatre generally and actors more specifically throughout his works, probably demonstrating that Christians still flocked to see plays.53 Despite Christian opposition, theatres were repaired throughout the third and fourth centuries at some cities. In 299 Ammaedara’s theatre had its porticoes restored. Sitifis had its theatre reconstructed during the late Empire, which might be connected to the promotion of the city to provincial capital. Sufetula’s theatre was either constructed or restored during the mid-fourth century and Cuicul’s was restored or developed between 367 and 375. The maintenance of theatres is not as ubiquitous as that on baths in fourth century cities but when coupled with literary evidence it is clear that at least in some cities the theatre remained popular.

continuing with the provision of games and plays. Among the case studies only Thamugadi and Sabratha show no evidence of work on such buildings. It seems likely that the aristocracy still saw the giving of games as a worthwhile undertaking due to the status that it gave to them and perhaps as a way of keeping the population of their city and its rural hinterland happy. This would have allowed the elite to demonstrate their wealth and influence to other members of the elite, perhaps gaining them recognition and preferment from the Imperial bureaucracy, while maintaining the well-being of their landed hierarchical society. If the lower classes were unhappy, disruption and rioting could have seriously inconvenienced the wealthy as any pillaging would almost certainly have been aimed at them. That was allegedly the case during the Circumcellion revolt of the 340s.57 The upkeep and construction of those buildings used for entertainment points towards the continued vitality of classical life in the North African cities in terms of sheer financial output and the understanding of what was necessary to keep people happy. These building projects and the evidence of Salvian chimes with that from the Eastern Mediterranean and the larger cities in the West. There, spectacles were still the main outlet for the general population to vent their frustrations against the authorities or submerge their problems beneath the panacea of entertainment.58 The provision of games, like the construction of buildings, was a part of traditional life for the aristocracy in North Africa and, as with other elements of classical culture, did continue into the late Roman period. The North African aristocracy were making a positive choice to continue to put on spectacles at a time when their peers elsewhere were not. Again, this demonstrates the importance of such festivities to both the elite but also the poor in the city’s and their hinterlands.

Circuses were never a common monument in North Africa, probably because of their expense, and even fewer preserve evidence demonstrating work done on them in late antiquity.54 Carthage is the exception to this. As can be seen from the case study and Table 5 the city shows varied evidence for the importance of chariot racing and circus imagery in the lives of its inhabitants. Indeed so rich is the picture created of life in Proconsularis’ capital by this evidential range that Humphrey even postulates of the chariot races in North Africa that: ‘It was ... above all the fourth and early fifth centuries which saw the greatest popularity of the sport’.55 Away from Carthage there is relatively little evidence that attending the circus was a regular pastime for North Africans. Only Sitifis’ circus was either built or reconstructed in the period due to the city’s new status, the two other most recent documented works undertaken on circuses occurred during the Severan era.56

The epigraphic evidence for the re-development of entertainment structures dwindles after the mid-fourth century. This could theoretically reflect growing Christian opposition to the games and plays but the literary evidence from Carthage and Hippo rather suggests that they remained popular well into the fifth century. Perhaps the relative lack of late fourth and early fifth century work reflects the curtailment of the epigraphic habit rather than disinterest or hostility.

In general the works undertaken on monuments for entertainment suggest that not only was there a desire to maintain the urban fabric into the fourth century but that municipal life was 52 E.g. Tert. De spect. VIII; Minucius Felix, Octavius, XXXVII.11-12; Cyprian, De spect. IV; Arnobius, Adversus Nationes, VII.33. Cf. Power 1971, 36-50. 53 For instance: August. Enarratio in Ps., 40.9, 81.16, 85.12, 86.15, 94.15, 100.9, 103.10, 147.19, 149.7. 54 There is currently only archaeological evidence of ten circuses in Roman North Africa: Utica x2, Iol Caesarea, Carthage, Lepcis Magna, Hadrumetum, Thysdrus, Auzia, Thugga and Sitifis. 55 For instance: August. Enarratio in Ps., 40.9, 81.16, 103.10, 120.4, 149.7. Humphrey 1986, 296. 56 At Auzia CIL VIII 9065 = ILS 5661 and Thugga ILAfr., 527 and CIL VIII 26549, 26550.

57 58

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See Chapter 2 and Optatus, III.4. Humphrey 1986, 579-638.

DOMESTIC STRUCTURES The aristocracy clearly wished to live in some style in the cities as well as maintaining the urban landscape. This is not to say that the African aristocracy shunned the countryside and their villas, many mosaics across North Africa, such as that in the House of the Master Julius at Carthage, demonstrate an enthusiasm for the rural life.61 Just as in the classical period, the fourth century African aristocracy split their attention between the rural and urban life. In the end it is not surprising that, given the continued vitality of the cities, the North African elite wished to keep their urban residences up to the appropriate standard for their station.

The impression of general wealth and continued investment in the cities of North Africa is confirmed by an examination of the houses. Most of the case studies display improvements and extensions to their town houses. Ammaedara does not but this is probably more to do with a lack of investigation of domestic structures than any positive evidence that such improvement did not occur. An examination of domestic building at Tipasa also provides little evidence of domestic buildings being developed in the late third to the fifth centuries. This reflects other elements of urban development at Tipasa as, apart from the building of churches, little other work was underway in the city. These gaps in the archaeological evidence may reflect a lack of work on the cities’ houses for these periods rather than an actual absence of late Roman work on dwellings. The huge churches of Tipasa and Ammaedara and the refurbishment of other buildings indicate that there were substantial populations as well as wealth in the cities in this period. Although it is possible that the elites of these two cities lived solely in their villas in the fourth century the evidence of the other cities suggests that they would also have had urban homes.

CONTRACTION AND EXPANSION OF THE URBAN AREA It is easy to see developments in the living quarters of the rich; mosaics, baths and other large-scale projects demonstrate the improvements graphically. What is not so easy to observe are the developments in the houses of artisans or the urban poor, partly because of the ephemeral nature of some of the materials used and, additionally, excavators have concentrated on revealing the houses of the elite as the results are more spectacular. In consequence developments in this type of housing are most easily observed through an increase in quantity. The cities of North Africa appear to have either expanded or retained their earlier dimensions into the late Empire. Sufetula demonstrates the expansion of the inhabited area into the third century at least; Thamugadi seems to have continued to expand into the fourth century; Cuicul probably continued to do so into the fourth century; Sitifis into the late fourth century; and most of the other cities show the maintenance of the early imperial cityscape. Sabratha is the only city from the case studies that appears to demonstrate any shrinkage of the urban area in the fourth century and even there, there is evidence that some reconstruction and expansion of domestic structures took place; the main evidence of contraction comes from after the disaster that overtook the city in the 360s. Decline at Sabratha and Lepcis may be paralleled at Utica where the harbour seems to have silted up during the third century. Although this could have resulted in a population exodus of the type that often happens when a port’s raison d’étre disappears, the archaeological evidence seems to show old, large houses being divided up into

At Carthage it was apparently necessary to rebuild many of the houses of the rich after the suppression that followed the defeat of Domitius Alexander in 311.59 It could, therefore, be argued that this was an enforced period of improvement rather than part of an ongoing process of regeneration. However, as we have seen, similar disasters north of the Mediterranean often resulted in the abandonment of the town houses of the rich or resulted in low-level reoccupation, it did not result in the extensive rebuilding of town houses as occurred at Carthage. Other cities did not suffer from the same problems as Carthage yet they contained houses that were expanded and/or beautified during this period. The houses in the northwest quarter of Sitifis benefited from this development as they were new constructions, but Thamugadi, Thuburbo and Cuicul contain houses of the second and third centuries that were substantially modified or had new mosaics in the fourth century.60 As has already been discussed the houses of the elite also benefited from having baths inserted into them during the fourth century; the desire for comfort as well as beauty indicates the continued wealth in North African society. Urban living was certainly still luxurious for the privileged few during this period.

61 Cf. Dunbabin 1978, 63 and 112. Dunbabin demonstrates that the hunting motif, although evident, was rarer here than elsewhere in the Empire.

59

Cf. Carthage case study. 60 Cf. relevant case studies.

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multiple dwelling spaces.62 It may be that rich merchants switched their attention to better harbours leaving their old town houses behind. Certainly at Utica there are only two known inscriptions that document fourth century building work, both from the early part of the century, one of which shows work done at Constantine’s expense.63 In short, while many of the cities of North Africa continued to prosper in this period, there may have been those that, due to their own specific circumstances, found life difficult. Despite this the evidence suggests that there was no collapse in North African population during the late Empire.

been militant pagans.66 Albinus, the great-uncle of Melania the Younger, was a well-known pagan priest and appears as such in a variety of late Roman literary sources.67 As the restoration of the porticoes of the Capitol at Thamugadi between 364 and 367 demonstrate this feeling of loyalty to the old religion, and a willingness to pay for its maintenance, was still present a generation after the death of Constantine. There is also an inscription carrying a dedication to Mithras on an altar base from Thysdrus that must date to after 373.68 However, these examples are hardly numerous and, after 367, maintenance work on temples almost disappears. Pagan feeling in the cities certainly continued into Augustine’s day and beyond. Augustine attended or saw the processions and festivals in honour of Caelestis and other gods at Carthage when he was a student and along with much of the crowd thoroughly enjoyed them.69 This was hardly an isolated case of pagan feeling in North Africa. Augustine’s letters also demonstrate the vitality of the religious cults into the fifth century in several different cities.70 The picture is also muddied by the fact that there may have been considerable syncretism among the population. Individuals are alleged to have attended both church and pagan festivals and to have simultaneously believed in the power of Christ and the occult.71 Salvian condemned Christians who honoured both Christ and Caelestis, attending the temples before going home or even going to church.72 The problem with Salvian is that he was a polemicist making a point about the corruption of North Africans specifically and Roman society more generally; religious hypocrisy is part of his attack on that society. As such it is difficult to know how much accuracy there was to his claims. His words do reflect Terullian’s On Idolatry, which made similar points two centuries before Salvian, but again Tertullian was a polemicist who was motivated by disdain for much of the North African Church.73 They may well be exaggerating

TEMPLES AND PAGANISM While it has been demonstrated that certain elements of classical society continued almost unchanged into the late Empire this cannot be said to be true of the pagan religions. Although Africa-wide a substantial proportion of reconstructions in the tetrarchic period related to temples or altars this declined rapidly over time. Indeed Leglay has demonstrated that, even during the third century, temples of the cult of Saturn were abandoned with dedicatory steles becoming infrequent.64 The case studies provide evidence for this continued maintenance into the early and midfourth century. Carthage, Thamugadi, Sitifis and Sabratha all demonstrate that there were those in the cities of Africa who wished to maintain the worship of the gods and the material fabric of the temples. Table 6 indicates that Julian’s legacy may be demonstrated in an increase in the number of temples that were reconstructed or repaired immediately after his reign. Certainly his importance for North Africa’s pagans can be seen in inscriptions at Casae and Thibilis where Julian is described, respectively, as the: ‘restorer of liberty and of the Roman religion’ and ‘restorer of the sacred rites’, but no temples actually date from his reign.65 It is possible that several of those dedicated in the period 364-367 were actually started under Julian rather than the Christians, Valentinian and Valens, but it is important to note that five of the inscriptions are from Numidia and carry the name of the governors Publilius Caeionius Caecina Albinus or Ulpius Egnatius Faventinus who seem to have

66

The five are: the Temple of Mithras at Cirta, ILAlg. II, 541; a temple at Cirta ILAlg. II, 618; the Capitol at Lambaesis CIL VIII, 2735 = 18229; a Temple of Neptune restoration at Ain Drinn CIL VIII, 2656; the Capitol’s porticoes restored at Thamugadi, CIL VIII, 2388 67 Jerome, Ep. 107.1; Macrob. Sat., I.2.15. 68 This example is not counted in Table 6 because its date is not secure. Slim, 1988, 187. 69 August. Conf., III.2.2-4 and De civ. d., II.4 and 26. 70 August. Ep. 90 and 185. For a selection of pagan declarations of loyalty to the gods in municipal inscriptions see Lepelley 1979, 351-2. 71 Salvian, Gub. Dei., VIII.2. August. Serm. 2.4 and Enarratio in Ps., 88. There was also the problem of false conversion for secular ends. August. Sermon Morin I , cited in Lepelley 1979, 360. 72 Salvian, Gub. Dei., VIII.2 73 Tertullian, De idolatria, VII.1

62 See Lepelley 1981, 341-3 and Alexander and Ennaifer 1973, xix. 63 Lepelley 1981, 243-4. CIL VIII, 1179; CIL VIII, 1183. 64 Leglay 1966, 95-101 and 487-492. 65 CIL VIII 18529 (Casae – restitutor libe[r]t[at]is et Ro[manae] religion[is]); ILAlg II, 2.4647 (Thibilis – restitutor sacrorum). Lepelley 1979, 351.

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Table 6 – Temple building and reconstruction. Dates

North African reconstructions.

temple

280-285 284-305 305-313 313-337 337-363 363-379 379-395 395-450

2 14 0 1 4 6 (all come from 363-7). 1 0

and

altar

the number of Christians who attended the temples but it is hard to imagine that they do not reflect some reality within the Church and we might expect that there would be people around the periphery of core believers who honoured the old gods and Christ. Augustine suggested that many of the less educated believed that they were still worshipping Saturn. Confusion, and a ‘pick and mix’ attitude to religion, may have played a part in pagan-Christian syncretism.74 As late as the mid-sixth century Corippus and Procopius’ texts suggest that paganism was widespread in North Africa, although it is only tribesmen who are pagans in these early-Byzantine texts. Despite, or perhaps because of, the vivid description of rites and prayer, paganism can be considered to be a marker of the difference between Roman and native in these writings.75 From the same period the biographer of Fulgentius of Ruspe fails to mention paganism entirely, but this may be due more to the function and nature of the text rather than it being an accurate picture of late Vandal reality.76 It is possible then that by the sixth century paganism was confined to non-Romans but it is un-wise to argue that on the basis of these texts.

The percentage of all North African construction inscriptions that relate to temples etc. 28.6% 22.6% 4% 15.3% 9.8% 3.4% -

paganism still had its devoted adherents past the end of the Roman Empire in the West. Conversion of temples Despite the continued popularity of paganism into the fifth century, by the mid-fourth century not only were many cities in North Africa not maintaining the temples but they were also actively demolishing and converting them to new uses. How and why did this happen? On a basic level it happened because communities or sections of the community were making decision about the urban landscape in which they lived and through which they moved. These transformations are not an isolated process. They come out of general, gradual, changes in society. At the same time it is illegitimate to remove human agency from this shift, an amorphous body called the ‘Church’ did not just dictate what was going to happen to passive human beings, there was a dynamic and changing process of decision-making occurring. Giddens, in his structuration theory, theorised that a society or social structure does not have a life of its own, it is constructed, maintained and altered by its members who are self-aware and thus capable of realising that their actions can have an effect on the structure and organisation of society.77 These individual or group actions are constrained by the norms of the society in which the individuals live. There is then a dichotomy whereby both human nature and societal structure are products of the other aspect of the construct.78 Therefore people change the urban landscape around them but only with reference to the institutions and attitudes of at least part of the society that surrounds them. The transformations seem to have been inherently ad hoc they were occasioned by explosions of anti-pagan feeling, the calculating ambition of particular prelates, and decisions undertaken by the

This persistence of pagan religious feeling led to violence between communities including the burning of churches and the destruction of temples and idols. Although this in itself obviously altered the urban landscape by destroying parts of the physical culture that formed an integral part of the life of its inhabitants, it does also indicate the depth to which religious feeling could ignite trouble in the cities of the Empire as could chariot racing, taxes and grain shortages. For the population of the late Empire religion was an integral part of life and 74

August. cons. ev., I.21.29-30. Procop. Vand., I.8.15; 2.8.9 and Aed., VI.2.14-20 for paganism at the Oasis of Augila; VI.3.9-10 for the conversion to Christianity of Ghadames under Justinian; VI.4.12 for the conversion to Christianity of the Gadabitani under Justinian; Corippus, Iohannis, 2.100, 400; 5.495; 6.115, 145-170, 190-1, 560; 7.515; 7.255; 8.300-320 76 See also Brandt 2000, 59-68. 75

77 78

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Giddens 1984, 3-6. Giddens 1984, 19-26.

community regarding unused or theologically dubious structures rather than being the product of a concerted Church plan to absorb or replace the existing pagan topography.79

Christian Empire, might still explain the general lack of urban basilicas until the second half of the fourth century and the failure to convert pagan structures even after the closure of the temples. North Africa, as has been shown above, still had functioning curiae and demonstrated a greater degree of continuity with the past than is apparent in Gaul.

Changes to the urban landscape obviously involve a massive mental change but this is more of a paradigm shift than may often be apparent. In terms of the insertion of Christian structures into a previously pagan urban topography there will have been a fundamental change in what the city’s population, or at least part of the population, believed was an appropriate religious feature in the landscape. The development or alteration of the cityscape may have involved complex negotiations in order to get anything changed at all.80 With any proposition there will have been those who agreed with it and those who opposed it, neither side is likely to have got entirely their own way unless the proposals were backed or opposed by the Imperial House or its functionaries. Those decisions that were left up to the ordo of a city would have needed compromise and would probably have involved considerable debate.

If it can be generally accepted that urban forms are manipulated to resolve tensions within society, then it would appear that the discursive process within late antique cities was generally resolved in favour of the Christians. Pagans can hardly have been ecstatic at the reinforcement of Christianity’s intellectual and spiritual dominance within the Empire in material form close to their homes, businesses and places of worship. However, this apparent unconditional victory of Christianity could in part be because we cannot see where forces opposing the construction of a basilica were successful as it is impossible to argue from negative evidence. The pagan community may have been more successful in opposing the Christians wishes than we might think and, of course, many governors and decurions were still pagans and could restrict and balk plans to develop areas of the city by Christians. On the other hand, pagan success could be judged in similar terms to that of Christianity, until the enforced closure of the temples the construction of new places of pagan worship could be assessed as showing pagan success. The fact that there are so few examples of temples being constructed in this period could be taken as demonstrating the failure of paganism to have its needs fulfilled or the diminution of the pagan community, if such a thing can be said to exist. This would, however, be a rather simplistic viewpoint as many pagan communities may have felt that, given the large number of temples in North African cities, they did not need to construct new ones to demonstrate their allegiance to their supernatural protectors, but could merely keep their shrines in a good state of repair and make offerings to the gods. There are a number of unknowable factors in the interplay between Christian and pagan interests in the cities of Roman Africa but what can be stated with certainty is that the urban form, in late antiquity, was being manipulated to solve the spiritual demands of the newly dominant community. The power and development of Christianity is the dominant factor in the metamorphosis of the classical city in this period.

In terms of any Christian project some pagans in a city could be expected to oppose vociferously the imposition of a new church on to the old city map. This would be especially true of basilicas built on public land and in particular over the old temples. Even in the late fourth/early fifth centuries when such conversions may have started to take place there would have been opposition to such actions. As has been demonstrated above there was considerable pagan strength in the cities of North Africa. Whether this opposition would have articulated itself openly in the face of Christianity’s position at court and with the higher echelons of the imperial administration is open to question but, as the case studies have demonstrated, several imperial officials did dedicate temples and statues to the gods in the course of the fourth century and may have blocked Christian attacks on the pagan heritage.81 However, elsewhere in the Empire, Saint Martin appears to have undertaken significant campaigns against temples in the countryside around Tours in the mid-fourth century. Additionally the Altar of Victory affair seems to demonstrate that by the late fourth century attempts to halt the triumph of Christianity over physical structures, even when backed by members of the pagan senatorial elite, were unlikely to succeed.82 Opposition to Christianity, even after the triumph of the 79

Saradi-Mendelovici 1990, 49. Grahame 1984, 154. See the case studies. Conti 2006: 883-892. 82 Sulpicius Severus, Vita Sancti Martini, 12-15. 80 81

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It is obvious from the works of Augustine, Optatus, the Donatist Martyr stories and even the Theodosian Code that there were significant tensions within North African society that were, in part, produced by questions relating to the built landscape.83 At times there were: Donatist attacks on pagan processions that resulted in Donatist deaths;84 Donatist assaults on temples;85 Catholic attacks on idols;86 pagan attacks on Catholics;87 and intermittent Catholic/Donatist warfare.88 Indeed from the early fourth century, and the onslaught conducted against the Christian community under Diocletian, it seems that there was a sea change in Christian attitudes to the destruction of pagan structures and religious objects. It may well have been that with the assault against the Church, Christians lost respect for the state and sought to pay back those who had slain their brethren.89 The Catholic Church both in North Africa and elsewhere still continued to argue for the preservation of pagan religious objects unless their destruction was sanctioned by the state, but it is clear that these arguments were in response to militant Catholic action, especially on the part of monks, over which the hierarchy had lost control.90 So Christian action against pagan structures was occurring even if the Catholic hierarchy in some areas were against it.91 In such circumstances it is likely that these rivalries were expressed on the urban landscape in the construction or the prevention of the construction of churches.

the community, through their lands and money.92 Constantine’s scions issued further laws in 341 and 346, which ordained the closure of the temples and the banning of sacrifices.93 These were all repealed during the reign of Julian but Theodosius I, in 391, definitively banned pagan cult and sacrifices.94 The process of conversion is demonstrated at several cities including those of the case studies detailed in Table 7.95 The majority of the listed were physically converted, while at Carthage the Church demonstrated a Christian statement of victory over the remains of the defeated faith’s principal temple through symbolism. Many of the temple conversions have been dated to the late fourth or early fifth centuries. This is certainly the case for the New Temple at Tipasa, Basilicas I and III at Sufetula, The Church of Cresconius at Cuicul, Church II at Lepcis, Church I at Thamugadi and the assertion of Christianity’s power over Caelestis at Carthage.96 The problems with these dates have been mentioned in the case studies and will be dealt with below. Beyond the case studies other temple-churches have been discovered at Djebel-Oust, CirtaConstantine and two at Mactar; the temples from Mactar have been dated to this same fourth to fifth-century horizon.97 Picard provides no evidence to back up his assertion that ‘without doubt’ the Christian community at Mactar took control of the ‘Temple of the Museum’ towards the end of the fourth century.98 The Djebel-Oust and Cirtan examples are probably Byzantine, although these dates are hardly secure.99

The changes that took place to the temples were often tied up in changes in Imperial law. In 331 Constantine confiscated temple goods, impacting upon the magnificence of the structures but also upon the influence that they could wield both psychologically, through their opulence, and over

Only in very rare cases has the transformation of the temple been dated to before this nebulous late fourth century date (which probably means the last third or so of the century). Those few cases of conversions and

83 Optatus, App. 10 and Sermo de passione sanctorum Donati et Advocati, 6-10. 84 August. c. ep. Parm., I.10.16, c. Gaud., I.28.32 and Ep. 185.3.12. 85 Gesta apud Zenophilum, 16-17 in Optatus, App. 1. 86 Passio Salsae; August. Ep. 50; Gauckler 1899, 156-165. 87 August. Ep. 50, 90 and 91. 88 August. Ep. 232. Optatus, 2.17-18. 3.4. Gsell 1901, 177178. Beaver 1935, 123-133 produces a useful catalogue of such violence from the sources even if his interpretation of such a catalogue is rather simplistic. 89 Bonner 1984, 339-357. Thornton 1986, 121-9. 90 The Canons of the Council of Elvira, 60 state that any Christian who is killed by pagans after breaking idols would not be regarded as a martyr. Augustine was against the populace taking measures into their own hands, cf. Serm. 61, 11, (cited in Lepelley 1979, 353) it was up to the authorities to undertake destruction and c. Gaud. 1.28.51 and c. ep. Parm. 1.10.16 stating that Circumcellions could only have even a tenuous claim to be considered martyrs if they were killed whilst acting under Imperial command. Thornton 1986, 126. Chadwick 1985: 11 91 August. Serm., 62.

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CTh., V.13.3 and X.1.8, and for a pagan’s opinion on the laws and their evolution Lib. Or. XXX.6. Although this is the case, source material from the early Empire demonstrates that some temples were already abandoned then: Pliny, Ep. X.96.10. 93 Optatus, II.15 suggests that the laws were applied. 94 CTh. XVI.10.10-11, 10.2 and 10.4. 95 Table 7 uses the dating of site reports and surveys of the temples whatever the grounds on which those dates are based. 96 Possibly including damage to pagan statues Gauckler 1899, 156-165. 97 Djebel Oust: Duval 1973a, 290-2, Caillet 1996, 198; Temple of Hoter Miskar at Mactar: Picard, 1988, 17; ‘Temple of the Museum’ at Mactar: Picard 1984, 27, Duval 1989c: 139; Cirta-Constantine, Gui, Duval and Caillet, 1992, 205-7. 98 Picard 1984, 27 99 Duval 1973a, 292; Gui, Duval and Caillet, 1992, 206

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despoliations that might date to the mid-fourth century generally seem to relate to the problems that affected Sabratha and Lepcis Magna so badly. Changes to the urban landscape at Lepcis and Sabratha may not have taken place if it had not been for the earthquake and the raids of the Austoriani that probably rendered it virtually impossible to rebuild the city to its original state. It may be that if such damage had occurred elsewhere then those cities might also have evidenced earlier redevelopment or changes in use to the temples.

about the defeat of paganism, some pagan communities were still continuing with their cultic practices whatever the laws might say and zealous officials might enforce. Conversion was not a uniform process. The case studies may not provide detailed answers regarding the process of conversion but they seem to demonstrate the triumph of Christianity over paganism in physical form. There are several cases where temples are dated to the late fourth and early fifth centuries. The problem with making any definitive statement about conversion in this period is that none of the dating evidence is stratigraphically secure. The use of stylistic grounds for dating the transformations makes it difficult to be certain about the process of conversion in Africa. Indeed away from the region it was not until the late fifth century, almost a century after the closure of temples, that this process took place. The loathing of Christians for the abodes of demons seems to have prevented conversion for Christian use immediately after Theodosius’ laws against the temples. The fact that Augustine does not mention temples being converted for Christian use might also argue against a fourth century date for this process, it would surely have been in his interests to point to such instances as a physical symbol of Christianity’s triumph and Letter 232 would have been the perfect place to do it. This is possibly true, but Augustine may not have been aware of individual cases or may have wished to avoid linking Catholics to paganism, if they were responsible for these conversions, as the Manicheans would certainly not have approved and the Donatists may not have done. In any case it is difficult to argue one way or another from Augustine’s silence.

It is of course difficult to establish how long these temples had been out of commission before they were converted for a new use. Although there were laws against the use of temples from the 340s we do not know to what extent they were ignored, especially under pagan governors, and of course they were reopened during the reign of Julian. It is perhaps indicative of the limited nature of the Christianisation of the North African city in the majority of the fourth century that, at least among the decision-making elite, those temples which were definitely destroyed or converted in the mid-fourth century were not reused as churches but for domestic or secular use; although this could be due to ideological reasons that will be explored below.100 Augustine claimed that many temples had been converted, destroyed and abandoned by the early fifth century but actual examples of individual temples are not forthcoming.101 Without such information it is difficult to assess how widespread the phenomenon was. It is only possible to say that Augustine seems to have thought, or perhaps wanted his readership to think, that he believed that such conversions, abandonment and destruction were widespread at the time of his, unfortunately undated, Letter 232. Some opposition to Augustine’s broad statement comes from the evidence of the Council of Carthage of 419. Canons 58 and 84 ask the emperors, Honorius and Theodosius II, to do away with the remaining idols, temples and other sacred sites because error still persisted in many places. Even if Augustine was correct in asserting that the monumental pagan heritage was being converted in many places, and he was not just making a largely polemical statement

Could North Africa have actually been out of step with much of the rest of the Empire? Possibly. The fact that there was even more competition for space in North Africa than elsewhere, due to the presence of two powerful Churches that both needed cathedrals, martyr basilicas, regional churches, baptisteries, storage facilities, houses for clergy, and even bath buildings may have had an effect. When these buildings had to be inserted into cities stuffed with monuments and housing it is hardly surprising that some earlier structures would have to be converted in order to place Christian buildings into the centre of the city. Otherwise, in every city in North Africa, the buildings of the new religion would have had to be placed into the suburbs that, generally,

100

Other examples of conversion for non-Christian purposes are known: Madauros where the Temple of Fortune was put to use for commercial activities, I.L.Alg. I, 2103; at Thubursicum Bure between 371 and 373 a temple was put to other uses CIL VIII 1447 + 15256; and at Abthungi where the Capitol was used for non-religious meetings CIL VIII 11205 = 928. Lepelley 1979: 349. The movement of statues of deities to the Western Baths of Caesarea from destroyed temples (?) (translata de sordentibus locis) might also fit here. CIL VIII 20963, 20965, 21078. Lepelley 1979, 61-67 and Leveau 1984, 52-53. 101 August. Ep. 232

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Table 7 – Temple conversions/destructions City Name.

Name of the Temple.

Carthage

Temple of Caelestis Unknown Temples (?)

Thuburbo Maius

Temple of Caelestis Temple-Church Capitol

Theveste Sufetula

Cuicul

Temple near the Arch of Caracalla. Temple (?) to the north of the forum. Temple in a court to the east of the forum. Temple of Venus Genetrix Temple of Frugifer Temple of Tellus

Thamugadi Tipasa

Temple to the Thamugadi. ‘New’ Temple.

west

of

Temple of Draco Lepcis Magna

Flavian Temple. Temple in the Forum Vetus Temple of Jupiter Dolichenus Sanctuary of Serapis

Sabratha

Sabratha I Antonine Temple. South Forum Temple.

Date of temple conversion/destruction and how the Temple was replaced. Bishop Aurelius places his cathedra in the temple in 399/400. Temple destroyed in 421 by the tribune Ursus. Statues moved to a hidden room in the late fourth century Converted to a church at an unknown date. Byzantine? The temple was converted to a church in the late fourth century. During the fifth century oil basins were placed into the basement. ‘Probably’ converted to a church. In the Byzantine period? The basilica I/II complex was constructed in the late fourth century Basilica III was inserted into the temple’s court in the late fourth century. Encroached upon by housing in the late Empire. Destroyed before the construction of a secular basilica between 364-7. Destroyed before the building of the North Basilica of the episcopal group in the late fourth or early fifth centuries. Basilica I built over a temple before the Vandal period. Converted into a church in the late fourth or early fifth centuries. Converted into a synagogue and then a Church during the mid to late (?) fourth century Converted into housing and pottery workshops after the 360s. Converted into a church in the first half of the fifth century. Converted into a church in the late fourth century and baptistery placed onto steps. The sanctuary was partially destroyed in 306-10 and was definitively abandoned by 365. A necropolis of the third to fourth century was constructed over the temple Columns used for the construction of the civil basilica after 365. As for the Antonine Temple and it had houses constructed over it as well.

that many basilicas were unnecessary probably because of the duplicating effect of having both Catholics and Donatists in a city.102 The practical effect of this on a settlement can be seen at small rural sites in southern Numidia such as Oued R’zel, which had six basilicas, a number totally out of proportion to the size of the settlement.103 Sites throughout the entire diocese would have duplicated this picture again and again.

contained the majority of Christian structures. At a time when cities such as Thamugadi, Sitifis and Cuicul were expanding or remaining at their third-century size it is possible that only by converting disused pagan structures could the Christian community fulfil their religious obligations to its members who lived in the centre of the city. Until the dislocation of the municipal tradition and then urban life occurred, it would have been difficult for the Christian population to insert its churches into the urban area. The frequency and rapidity of conversion may have been exacerbated by the presence of two Christian sects in North Africa, partly due to the scale of building entered into for basic needs, but also because of sheer competition between the Churches. Competition, between settlements, sects or both, could be a driving factor in the construction of extra basilicas. Optatus stresses

It is theoretically possible that North Africa was ahead of the rest of the Mediterranean World in the process of temple conversion even if further archaeological work would be necessary to prove this one way or another. Whenever temple conversions occurred it is important to ask 102 103

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Optatus, III.1. Berthier 1942, 48-56

whether this evocation of victory was a deliberate policy. The appearance of Christian churches within the remains of earlier temples could have occurred for several different reasons. First, reasons unrelated to Christian ideologies. If temple conversion did start in the late fourth century it was only at this point that the temples had been totally closed and made available for conversion whatever Christian attitudes to that process. Certainly the pagan elite who constructed these temples and who were viewed as being critically important to the future of the Church might not have wished to have their, or their family’s, works of public euergetism to be re-used in this way if they were not Christians; the Church may simply have wished to avoid offending these important personages.104 As has been stated paganism was still a force in this period, both culturally and politically, and the opinions of its adherents could not be ignored or wantonly violated throughout much of the fourth century.105 If a later date is accepted for the conversion of North African temples then the problem disappears to some extent, the longer the time span the more chance that the aristocracy may have been Christianised and disconnected from their pagan forefathers. Additionally if the process started late enough then Vandal influence may have played a part. It does not seem likely that the Vandals would have been worried about the feelings of long dead Romans.

conversion. The latter is essentially unknowable but if excavation confirmed a late fifth century or later date for transformation then North Africa would fall in to line with the rest of the Empire and it could be accepted that North Africans felt much the same way as their co-religionists throughout the Mediterranean basin. If archaeology confirmed that some temples were converted in the late fourth century or shortly after then it could be theorised that North Africans were not as worried about pollution as other Christians, either because a flourishing urban environment necessitated compromise or because the ideological imperative to out compete opposing sects had an effect. Whenever conversion occurred a suite of motives would have played a part. First, Christians may have converted temples in the late fourth/early fifth centuries for purely practical reasons. There would have been savings to be made in terms of money, labour and acquisition of materials if temple sites were altered. The temples may also have been in locations that the Christians wished to use. A second possible reason for the conversion of temples is that they were framed in the mould of the triumphal actions of Aurelius at Carthage; a demonstration of the victory of the Church as Christ had triumphed over Satan on the cross. It is certainly possible that the Christian community wished to demonstrate the political and religious status quo in terms of the urban landscape; the conversion of temples may have echoed for them the elevation of Christians to the purple and the favouritism that Constantine and his successors had showered on the True Faith. It is likely that there was at least some element of idealism in the conversion of temples to Christianity even if practicality and the need for space within the centre of a city often played its part. The fact that the temples were not particularly suited to re-use as churches, the cellae were too small and the structures had to be re-ordered, also suggests that the ideological aspect of the conversion was pre-eminent in any discussion about the transformation of a temple by the Christian community.108

Whether or not a late fourth/early fifth century date is accepted, Christian loathing for the contamination produced by the idolatrous history of temple sites probably played a part in the delay between closure and conversion. Until the temples had been out of use for some time the ritual pollution produced by demons inhabiting pagan sites may have hung thickly around the structures for African Christians.106 Beyond that there may have been real fear that the statues of the gods actually contained reserves of demonic power or were themselves the dwelling places of demons. This fear is obvious in the East as statues and temples were destroyed and converted and has been suggested by Salzman to be one reason behind the lack of temple conversion at Rome into the sixth century.107 As to when this reticence to re-use temples ended that may depend on when they were actually abandoned and the feelings of African Christians in the late fourth and early fifth centuries. The former could be solved with more archaeological work, which might also confirm the date of

The conversion of temples may be seen both in terms of the utilisation of abandoned elements of the classical landscape for the needs of the urban community but also in terms of the religious ‘war’ between the old and the new. When considering who might have converted pagan structures for Christian use at the end of the fourth century the Donatists are obvious culprits. Their rabid anti-pagan rhetoric and the Circumcellions’ confrontational tactics suggest

104

Salzman 1999, 123-134. Saradi-Mendelovici 1990, 48 and MacMullen 1984, 135-6. 106 See pages 18-20. 107 Salzman 1999, 130; Mango 1963, 53-76; SaradiMendelovici 1990, 50. 105

108

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Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1994, 457.

that they would have been as proactive in the dissolution of the temples as they were in their robbing of them but there is little literary support for Donatist temple destruction.109 Purpurius of Limata launched the one-recorded Donatist attack against a temple.110 The attack against a Serapeum during the Great Persecution may explain Purpurius’ continued popularity despite his alleged murder of his nephews (if these allegations are not Catholic propaganda designed to prejudice the Roman authorities against the Donatists). Additionally there is no hard archaeological evidence of Donatist inspired conversion. It is easy to suggest that as at Sufetula where there is a known Catholic church but no Donatist one the temple that was converted into Church III had to have been the Donatist cathedral, but there is fundamentally no proof of this.111 Indeed it might be equally postulated that the Donatists, with their concerns about being polluted by pagans (including Catholics), might have been more likely to worry about the ritual pollution and demonic influence that was commonly thought to permeate former pagan structures than were Catholics, making them less likely to convert temples for their own use. As has already been mentioned if the date of temple conversion is later then 429 then Vandal Arians may have been involved. The most that can be said with certainty about this problem is that at least one of the Christian communities at these cities was converting temples to their own use during late antiquity.

between 364 and 367, the Temple of Frugifer had been demolished and a civil basilica and the House of Hylas were placed over its remains. Two other basilicas were built elsewhere at Cuicul after the destruction of the temple while at some stage during the century the House of the Donkey encroached upon the Temple of Venus Genetrix. At Cuicul basilicas were considered necessary structures for urban life while temples were not and, in consequence, the latter were replaced. At Sabratha, following the period of destruction when the civil basilica was substantially altered in its pre-Christian phase, columns from the Antonine and Southeast Forum Temples were used. Beyond the case studies there is general support for this theory. Table 6 demonstrates that after the tetrarchic period there was a steep decline in the number of temples being built while basilicas continued to be built later in the period. It was clearly not just Christian activists that were converting the temples, even if a late fourth century date is accepted for the temple-churches, many had ceased to be used and as a result were a target for builders of other structures. When the temples lay within the centre of the towns their removal meant that new buildings could be placed into prestigious areas in the urban landscape. The Theodosian Code, XV.1.36 also iterates that it was permissible for demolition materials from temples to be reused in the (re)construction of walls, aqueducts, roads and bridges.113 At least in some cities temples were being converted for non-religious use by the mid-fourth century. Whether Christians were also converting temples into churches remains to be seen. Further archaeological work needs to be done, but in a fevered atmosphere of religious dispute it is not impossible that at least some of the dating for temple conversions is correct and that churches were being erected on pagan sacred sites in the late fourth or early fifth centuries. Indeed even if this was not the case Christians could still have been wielding their influence against temples at a local level. Pagan sites of worship were increasingly under threat in the fourth century from both imperial and municipal officials.

The adaptation of the architectural legacy for the use of a new age was not limited to temples. The judicial basilicas of Sufetula, Tipasa and Sabratha were all converted for Christian use in the fourth or early fifth centuries as were houses at Thamugadi. Beyond the case studies bathhouses were also converted at Madauros and Mactar to fulfil the need for Christian places of worship.112 It is not surprising that the Christian community at these cities decided to convert basilicas for their own use as the structures had clear ideological overtones that have been explored above. It is perhaps surprising that relatively few basilicas, which were an inherently practical shape for Christian use, were converted in the late fourth to fifth centuries but that might indicate that basilicas were still in use in North Africa in this period.

CONSTRUCTION OF CHURCHES The absorption of the classical building tradition was a minor part of the Christianisation of the urban landscape. There appear to be far more purpose-built churches in the late Roman city than altered classical structures. The cities of the Roman world are often described as experiencing

It seems that, in some cases at least, temples went out of use prior to the civil basilicas. This is demonstrated by the example of Cuicul. There, 109

August. Ep. 188. Gesta apud Zenophilum, 16-17. Optatus, App. 1, See Sufetula case study. 112 Duval 1973b, 297-317. 110 111

113

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01/11/397

a progressive Christianisation, with the first churches seem to have been placed on their peripheries and only later displaying a movement by the Christian community to place their structures in the heart of the urban landscape. Was this the case in North Africa? In order to answer this it will be necessary to divide the cities into different areas into which Christian basilicas were placed. An examination of the dating of the various basilicas that fall within these areas will demonstrate whether there are phases in the Christianisation of the city. In order to demonstrate the evidence in a more convenient way Tables 8-11 arrange the basilicas in the case studies into the area in which they were placed and the date of their construction.

not, especially if they were out on their own. The importance of the forum at a number of levels, the fact that monuments often clustered around this complex and the concentration of dedicatory inscriptions and statues in the forum demonstrates their centrality to city life.116 Even before the Christian period some cities display an element of bi-focality. However, there is unlikely to have been any real opposition between those sets of constructions as they supported institutions that were clearly linked and culturally complementary to each other or were simply split between the foci. In order to deal with the problem of what constitutes a city centre I will divide the city into four areas: the forum/judicial basilica complex, the rest of the urban area, the periphery of the urban area and finally the cemeteries.117 This helps to deal with the problem as it demonstrates those basilicas that were placed into the centre of secular power, which was also the main focus of the town. Those basilicas that were placed into the town in general, including those which were placed into major temples or near large monuments, may still be situated near major foci such as large baths or monumental complexes but these areas are still likely to have been less prestigious than the forum. The importance of the cemeteries and the tombs of the honoured dead within Christian communities will complicate the situation. As has already been shown in Chapter 2, and will be discussed in more detail below with reference to the built environment, martyr cult was extremely important to Christian communities, the location of churches on the periphery of the cities in cemeteries does not preclude them being major late Roman urban foci.

This ordering of information and division of cities into discrete areas is in itself problematic, after all what really constitutes a central area? As was noted in Chapter 4, although the town centre is a reasonably clear practical and theoretical construct in modern society, with a central business district around and intermingling with an administrative area into which important religious structures are also set, this was not necessarily the case in ancient cities. Although the central administrative area is obvious in the forum/basilica/curia construct, which usually also contained the Capitol or other important temples, what else constituted the central area? Perhaps large temples or groups of temples away from the forum area could be thought of as central to the city without actually being in the city centre. At Thamugadi the Capitol was clearly a structure central to pagan religious life but it was not part of the forum complex while at Sufetula there was clearly a secondary monumental area comprising the Temple in a Court, the large baths and the theatre.114 Elsewhere in North Africa the dichotomy within the city produced by the presence of more than one forum can also be seen to complicate the examination of a city’s primary administrative focus and its relationship to Christian foci. At Lepcis, Cuicul and Carthage there was more than one forum and, at the first two at least, these were associated with basilicas and large temples. Large baths were often situated away from the forum, possibly due to spatial and developmental reasons but they still played an important part in the lives of the inhabitants. Could they then be considered to be central monuments within the town if they would have featured so strongly in the mental maps of the population?115 Probably

Christian basilicas in the forum Many churches were placed into the very heart of the urban area by the late fourth and early fifth centuries by inserting basilicas into fora and judicial basilicas.118 Table 8 demonstrates where this occurred in the case studies. Why did some Christian communities feel it was necessary to place structures into these areas that obviously had overtones of secular power and idolatry? It Hadrianic Baths complex was built far from the Forum Vetus; and at Sabratha the baths appear to have all been built away from the forum. 116 Condron 1998, 42-50 demonstrates the relative importance of the Forum Vetus, the Severan forum and the theatre for dedicatory inscriptions in the Roman era. 117 In Tables 8-11 Byzantine construction of churches are included as these may aid understanding of why earlier changes in the urban topography could have occurred. 118 See Potter (1995: 64-73) who empahsises those cities where this did not happen and information about Caesarea/Cherchel where it did (1985: 462-464; Benseddik 1985: 453; Potter 1995: 75-77).

114

See Figures 9 and 14. For instance at Thamugadi all of the main baths complexes are away from the forum; at Cuicul the Baths of Commodus were situated on the town’s periphery; at Lepcis Magna the {footnote continues} 115

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Table 8 – Basilicas around the Forum/Judicial Basilica complex City Carthage Ammaedara

Basilica name/number Church on the Byrsa hill. (Church of the Theotokos?) Basilica I

Sufetula

Basilica IV

Tipasa Lepcis Magna Sabratha

Date of basilica In the judicial basilica. Possibly Vandal but Justinianic at the latest. Built over an early fourth century baths. Late fourth/early fifth century. Not earlier than the end of the fourth century. Byzantine. Early fifth century. Justinianic. First half of the fifth century. Justinianic. Possibly not long after 400 but before 450. Justinianic.

Basilica VIII Basilica IV Basilica I Basilica II Basilica III Basilica I Basilica II

Table 9 – Basilicas within the urban area City Carthage

Ammaedara Thuburbo Maius Sufetula

Basilica name/number Carthagenna Bir Messaouda baptistery Dermech I Dermech II Dermech III Dermech IV (Chapel ‘Gauckler’) Bigua Rotunda Martyrium and basilica. ‘Monastery of St. Stephen’ Basilica III Basilica IV Basilica V Basilica I Basilica II Basilica I Basilica II Basilica III

Cuicul

Basilica IV

Thamugadi

Basilica II Basilica III. Basilica V Basilica VI Basilica A. Basilica B. Basilica III Basilica IV Basilica V Basilica VI Basilica III Basilica IV

Sitifis Tipasa Lepcis Magna Sabratha

may have been a matter of prestige. By late in the century the pagan overtone of the centres may have been fading for Christians and they may just have been the logical place to put the basilicas. After all, they were in the middle of the entire town allowing good access to them, they were close to the other buildings of power such as judicial basilicas (where these were not cannibalised by the Christian community), governors’ palaces and the forum. Indeed for

Date of basilica First quarter of the fifth century. Byzantine? First half of the fifth century. Second half of the fifth century to Byzantine Byzantine Fifth or sixth centuries Late fourth/early fifth century. Second half of the fourth century. Second quarter of the fifth century. Byzantine. Vandal or earlier. Byzantine. Late fourth century. Mid to late fourth century. End of the fifth/start of the sixth century. Late fourth/early fifth century. Built in fourth century. Christianised by the Byzantine period. Fourth century Pre-Vandal. ‘Very Late’ ‘Late’ Before 378. After 364. Late fourth/early fifth century. Late sixth century. Justinianic/late sixth century. 365 – 400. 365 – 400.

some Christians such as Augustine, who saw the Church as destined to subsume classical culture, the heart of the major organs of that culture, the city centre, was the perfect place to put a church. At the same time Christian leaders were becoming involved and concerned with the exercise of secular power in the cities of North Africa; the letters of Augustine display frequent attempts on his

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part to influence life in the cities of Africa.119 For some late fourth century Christians the monumental centre may have been a logical place to put a church if there was room for it. Churches are associated with the forum and judicial basilica at several of the case studies. Basilica I at Ammaedara, Basilica IV at Sufetula, Basilica IV at Tipasa, Basilica I at Sabratha, and Basilica II at Lepcis Magna all display this placing of the church into the centre of secular power during the late fourth and early fifth centuries.120 Of the five basilicas that were placed into a forum or a judicial basilica in the fourth or fifth centuries it is clear that, although this is not a particularly large sample, there is a distinct bias towards the very end of the fourth century, but even more so the early fifth century. It is also clear that several judicial basilicas were converted in the Byzantine period and in particular the reign of Justinian; presumably this relates to Justinian’s desire to build structures for the glory of God and as a celebration of his victory over the Vandals. Equally by the Byzantine period the Roman basilica and all that was tied up with it in terms of civic governance may not have remained relevant to the population.

provided by temples, baths, and other constructions and this would certainly have given status to the structures that were placed into them or over their remains. In this way Tipasa III, Cuicul IV, Sufetula III and Thuburbo I all would have gained status from their location even if they were not closely associated with the forum/basilica area. The importance and status given to Christian structures would not have been solely dependent on association with the forum area. They would have gained significance from their positioning within the city itself in relation to the major roads and routes within the city and in some cases from their status as conversions from earlier monuments. Several of the churches of Carthage, although not obviously placed into earlier important religious or ‘secular’ structures, were nonethe-less in important districts that contained monuments from earlier in the century or were on important through routes within the city. In this way the basilica of Carthagenna and the baptistery of Bir Messaouda, although not close to any of the remaining major monuments, were situated between the Byrsa hill and the ports and therefore may have been on an important route between the two. It is also possible that these two Christian structures were fairly close to the forum itself especially if it were on the Byrsa.123 Again the rotunda martyrium and its contiguous basilica, located on the Odeon hill, dominated the maritime plain, and were located near the cardo maximus. As such they were obviously important structures on the cityscape of Carthage and would have given a monumental profile to the Christian community and a constant reminder to the city as a whole of the newly achieved dominance of the New Religion.124 The relationship to the major roads of a city could be another main reason why basilicas are placed where they are. In a functioning Roman city that had shops and monuments along the cardo maximus and the decumanus maximus the location of a basilica on such streets would have given the Christian community prominence within the city and community both in terms of the physical environment and psychologically among the population. Perhaps the placement of Tipasa III, Thamugadi II with its associated structures and Sufetula I, II and III on, or near, the major roads of those two cities indicates the

Basilicas in the rest of the urban area From the fourth century onwards literary and archaeological evidence from the case studies demonstrates that basilicas were placed into the cities of North Africa outside of the forum/basilica complex.121 The Theoprepia and the Restituta at Carthage were installed into the ‘centre’ of the city at some stage during the fourth century possibly long before the life of Augustine.122 Obviously in order to do this they had to be placed over the remains of earlier structures but the majority of these did not incorporate the former building’s structure; the earlier construction was either purposefully destroyed or it had already been abandoned prior to the decision to construct the church. That does not mean that these churches did not use the status of other buildings. As the discussion on the conversion of the temples demonstrates, the Christian population could have been expropriating the monumental significance 119

Large numbers of Augustine’s letters could be referenced here. Some interesting examples are: August. Ep. 122 – an exhortation to the people of Hippo to provide clothing for the poor; 100 – to Donatus and 133 – to Count Marcellinus, asking that Donatists convicted of attacking Catholic clergy should not be executed; 220 – to Count Boniface, asking him to do something against the Vandals; 247 – to Romulus, outspoken criticism of the tax-farmer, Romulus, unjust practices. 120 Table 8. 121 Table 9. 122 See Carthage case study.

123

There is some debate as to how many fora there were in Carthage. There may have been two, one of which was located near the ports. Ennabli 1997, 82-3 Duval 1997, 322-323. 124 Ennabli 1987, 293-294.

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importance of these routes on an ideological level to these Christian communities. The insertion of these structures onto key armatures of the cities would have made the structures highly visible to the entire community as well as integrating them into urban framework. When churches that are placed onto the main roads are linked with those that are found in the forum/basilica complex it indicates that it was important for the Christian population to have their places of worship in socially strategic and highly visible areas of the urban topography. The Madaba map from Palestine demonstrates the importance of churches to a conceptual image of the city albeit from a sixth century, Palestinian, avowedly Christian context. Given the size and positioning of some of the North African churches it is hard to believe that they would not have become key landmarks within the city, places of reference for movement around the city and places that helped to symbolise the city. The assertion of Christianity’s dominance over these processions and pilgrimage routes will be dealt with later in this chapter.

Churches such as Cuicul IV, Sitifis A and B, Sabratha III and IV, Thamugadi VI (where ‘late’ might conceivably mean fifth-century) and Ammaedara IV are clearly well within the urban area and again demonstrate the fact that churches did not necessarily have to be placed into prominent areas within the town. These churches, along with those at Carthage, tend to be relatively small (with the exception of Thamugadi III) and the reason for their construction may not have had the ideological impetus that created monumental structures to rival and to replace the secular/pagan buildings of the high Empire. Some of these churches, especially in the larger cities and towns such as Carthage, Tipasa, Thamugadi and Lepcis may have been used as ‘regional’ churches that were not supposed to be massive monumental structures like the cathedrals and some cemetery churches. Carthage certainly had true ‘regional churches’, and in imitation of Rome it probably had seven ecclesiastical regions, although only six of these are known from literary or epigraphic material.126 Some of the smaller churches in Carthage may well have been the churches that went with these regions. The positioning of such churches may have not been due to any ideological preoccupations of the Church that possessed them, either in its conflict with paganism or Christian rivals or in imprinting its image on to the urban landscape. Servicing the religious needs of the community could have been a priority in and of itself. The building of such churches may have had more to do with practicality. Although they would have catered to the needs of the Christian community they would not have had their own set of ideologies associated with them (i.e. the Holy Dead or the power of the bishop). Location then may have been less central to their construction and they may have been inserted wherever there was room for them.

Not all basilicas within the urban area were placed into areas of importance. Certainly Thamugadi III, although an important church with a baptistery, was situated away from the main roads and all of the town’s monumental constructions, while those structures at Dermech, in Carthage were clearly within the urban area but away from the main monumental structures, the cardo maximus, and the decumanus maximus. It is unfortunate that the entrances to the city of Carthage are so poorly understood as they could demonstrate which roads were through-routes after the construction of the city wall. Few gates are known with any degree of certainty.125 The city wall in itself would have had an important effect upon the Christianisation of the urban environment. Clearly Christian structures could have been built on routes out of the city (and in an open-plan city there would have been many) that were subsequently closed off following the building of the city wall. Of course this depends on the number of gates that were established in the wall and that in turn depends on what the fortifications were built for. Were they purely for defence or were they were also for show? Without further exploration of the remains of the walls and the location of some of the gates we cannot know. Such a transformation of the city’s boundaries could have meant that previously prominent structures, which would have been passed by regularly by people entering or leaving the city may have become more peripheral or less noticeable to general traffic. 125

At what date were churches being inserted into the urban area? Table 9 suggests that the majority of those basilicas within the town, but not within the forum/basilica complex, were built before or around 400, although not all of these churches are securely dated. Nine churches out of the sixteen that date to the fourth and fifth centuries, the period under consideration, appear to have been put to Christian use in the second half of the fourth century while another three relate to the late fourth/early fifth century period. There does then appear to be an earlier movement into the

126

Hurst and Roskams 1984, 37.

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Frend 1977, 38-40.

Table 10 – Basilicas on the periphery of the urban area. City. Carthage Sufetula Cuicul Thamugadi Tipasa Lepcis Magna

Basilica name/number. Rotunda and Subterranean ‘baptistery’. Basilica V Basilica I Basilica II Basilica III Basilica VII Basilica VIII Basilica IX Basilica I Basilica II Basilica V

Date of basilica. Second half of the fifth century. Late fourth century. Fourth or fifth century. Fifth century. Late fourth/early fifth century. Late fourth/early fifth century. 539 – 540. Late fourth century. Byzantine. Late sixth century.

Table 11 – Basilicas in the cemeteries.

City. Carthage

Ammaedara Theveste Sufetula Cuicul Thamugadi

Sitifis Tipasa

Basilica name/number. Chapel of Redemtus. Chapel of Asterius. Bir el Knissia. Damous El-Karita. Basilica of Sayda/Saint Monica. Basilica Maiorum. Bir Ftouha. Basilica II Basilica I Basilica II Basilica VI Basilica VII Basilica V Basilica I Basilica IV Basilica X Basilica XI Chapel of Iustus and Decurius Basilica VI Basilica VII Basilica VIII

Date of basilica. Byzantine. Byzantine. Late fifth /early sixth century. Start of the fourth century. Late fourth century. Start of the fourth century. Late fifth/early sixth century? Fourth/fifth century. Ca. 388 – 420. Later than Basilica I. Late fourth/fifth martyrium. Byzantine church. Before 452. Pre-Vandal. 641 – 668. Late fourth/early fifth century, over a third century crypt. Before 371. First building in the early fourth century? First basilica in the fourth century.

Thamugadi VII, VIII and their quarter and the large complex at Theveste, were all positioned on the outer edges of their towns and cities. The placement of these basilicas may, in part, have been necessitated by their sheer size, moving the complexes of Theveste and Thamugadi closer into the centre would certainly have been difficult. The basilicas and their related structures at these two sites, as has been described elsewhere, were vast. The Theveste complex was about 200 by 110 metres at its widest points while the ‘Donatist Cathedral’ was around 163 by 115 metres and it would have been virtually impossible to insert these into the city. Of course these, Tipasa I and the episcopal complex at Cuicul, were not necessarily constructed at the edges of a city merely because of their size. After all we do not know, and indeed cannot know, on what grounds the initial decision to site a basilica on the periphery of a city was made. The primary decision may have been to site the church away

urban area as a whole than there was into the forum area. A fourth century date for the majority of these structures contrasts with the dating for those churches which were placed into the judicial basilicas or close to the forum, which were either constructed at the very end of the fourth century but often in the fifth. Why this might be so will be considered when all four areas of the town have been examined. Basilicas on the periphery of the urban area The Christian population did not place all of its churches into the centre of the urban area. Table 10 demonstrates those basilicas that were placed into the periphery of the towns throughout the Christian period. Many of the largest basilicas and/or large subsidiary complexes were of the late fourth and early fifth centuries and were situated on this fringe: Tipasa I, the Cuicul episcopal group, the monumental complex of

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the town there must have been good reasons for it. This could have been due to practicalities. Perhaps the Christian population could not place their basilicas on the roads due to an inability to purchase the land because of the continued maintenance of the old tombs; because the positions of the martyr churches were constrained by the location of martyrdom or burial or due to ideology; or because the Christian community wished to create its own monumental space away from the old classical structure of space.

from the city centre on the periphery for ideological reasons and the structures then could be built on such a scale because there was plenty of room at the chosen location. Tipasa I, for instance, appears to have been deliberately set up on a hill in opposition to the secular monumental area in the city centre. These ideas will be expanded further after the examination of the cemetery basilicas. Basilicas in the cemeteries The fourth group of churches that impacted upon the urban milieu were located in the cemeteries that ringed the towns and cities. Of the case studies only Sabratha, Lepcis Magna, Sitifis and Thuburbo Maius do not have recorded cemetery basilicas and this is probably more a consequence of the nature of the archaeological excavations than an actual reality. Most of these cemetery churches were also martyr churches in that they were dedicated to specific martyrs whose relics had been brought from abroad or to the various African martyrs from the Scillitans and Perpetua onwards. These churches were key to the ideology and faith of the African Christian community as they expressed the population’s link to their heroic, persecuted past and allowed them access to a resource of spiritual power to help them in both this life and the next.

So does the positioning of the cemetery basilicas relate to the routes of roads in North Africa? Part of the problem with evaluating this is the lack of knowledge regarding where many of the roads exited the cities due to a lack of exploration beyond the urban area. At Carthage, if the roads went straight out from the cardines to the north and south of the city, then many of the basilicas would have stood near these routes out of the city. Elsewhere the picture is also difficult. Ammaedara II, for instance, stands within fifty metres of the main road out to Carthage behind the mausolea that lined the road but whether another road led closer to it is not known. The street plan at Sufetula is too badly understood in the south of the city to know whether a road led out to near the martyrium that lay under the Byzantine Basilica VI. Tipasa, Theveste, and Thamugadi do show some evidence that cemetery basilicas lay on roads out of the city as theory and experience in Italy and the East suggests. Further excavation and a better understanding of the edge of the towns, and not just their centres, would improve knowledge of how often this was true in Africa.

As the cemetery basilicas were monumental structures in their own right, it could perhaps be expected that they would be located near the roads that led out of the cities into the necropoleis, as pagan mausolea had been before the advent of Christianity. Indeed, as the cemeteries were situated on the roads for ease of access some cemetery basilicas were almost forced to be near routes out of the city by their very function. This was certainly the case for the great cemetery basilicas around Rome where they were located on the roads that radiated out from it. This would have helped in terms of the sheer practicalities of access to large churches by large numbers of people; the closer the structures were to a road the easier it would be for the population to get to them. At the same time, if the basilicas were close to the roads, they would almost be taking over the ideology of display that had been behind the placing of the mausolea and other monuments paid for by the elite. Furthermore it could be suggested that the Church would have wished to have its cemetery churches near the roads or at least with impressive ways up to them for their processions and to evoke awe and an appreciation of the spiritual power of God and his Church. Alternatively if some cemetery churches were well away from the roads and the approaches to

Despite a lack of clarity on the relationship between basilicas and major roads the cemetery basilicas were clearly key structures in these zones. Their huge size, both in terms of height and floor plan, meant that they dominated a wide area around them and the perception of their monumentality would have been emphasised by the lack of comparable structures in the cemeteries. The Carthaginian examples in particular demonstrate this; the Damous el-Karita and the Basilica Maiorum were simply massive and on a par with the structures that surrounded Rome. Such monumentality might perhaps have been expected at the metropolis of Africa Proconsularis but the scale of these basilicas was matched elsewhere in North Africa. The Basilica of St. Salsa at Tipasa, the basilical complex at Theveste, Basilica II at Ammaedara and Basilica VI at Sufetula all echo the monumentality of the cemetery basilicas of Carthage and Rome.

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The construction of cemetery churches seems to have been an element of Christian monumental building that started to occur early in the fourth century at a number of sites. The Damous elKarita and Basilica Maiorum at Carthage appeared in their earliest phases at the start of the fourth century, presumably soon after the peace of Constantine, and are among the very earliest martyr churches in North Africa. Such early cases are few in number and most North African churches of any type date from after the mid fourth century. Several late fourth and early fifth century cemetery churches had earlier martyria or crypts associated with them or located at their core. At Tipasa, for instance, Basilica VI (the Chapel of Alexander) was close to a crypt that probably dated to the third century while Basilica VIII appears to have had a chapel that dated originally to the beginning of the fourth century. The archaeological and literary evidence are in unity here, the process of Christianising the cemeteries began before the reign of Constantine and before the start of the Christianisation of the rest of the urban landscape.

least as important as the secular or pagan constructions of the city to many Christians. This was also likely to be true of the large basilicas on the periphery of the urban area. The construction of churches in areas away from the forum may have created an element of bi-focality within the city. The Christian population would have split their time between the secular centre of power, commerce, and leisure around the forum and the centres of spiritual power on the periphery of the town while the pagan population would have concentrated on the forum area and the temples that generally, although not exclusively, lay in the town. There would then have been a change of emphasis on what was important in the urban topography for the Christian population, with the old secular/pagan centre becoming less important compared to the centres of their faith. Certainly there were differences between the relationships of the two religions to secular power. While Augustine saw the Christian ‘City of God’ as being a distinct entity from the secular city his correspondent, Nectarius, saw religious life as being inextricably linked to municipal life.128 As Lepelley puts it, the traditional religion acted as the guarantor of a social pact and in this period Christianity could not be substituted as the civic cement.129 While much of what Lepelley writes is true there is a presumption there that the Christians desired to simply replace paganism. In a way this is a transposition of the eventual result of Christianisation back into the past. The actual progress of the process in the fourth and fifth centuries suggests that it may not have been the aim of the Christian communities at this period.

The placing of churches The sanctified cemetery sites were foci of the Christian community long before the construction of the basilicas and would have had a special meaning for the Christian population as ancestral places of worship and the locae of the martyr heroes of the Church. The importance of the martyrs can perhaps be seen in the conflict between Donatists and Catholics over one of the Cyprianic basilicas at Carthage and the different Catholic and Donatist versions of North African martyr stories. It was important for the rival communities to lay claim to the supernatural patrons to gain privileged access to the intercessors with the divine and also status in the eyes of the floating Christian population of North Africa and therefore pilgrims to their site. Athanasius records similar competition between Catholics and Melitians in Egypt, where he accused the schismatics of digging up Catholic martyrs and carrying them off to their own churches because “they do not have the bodies of martyrs in their city” and in consequence drawing crowds including Catholics to their churches.127 Martyr churches would have been at

Was the concentration on other areas a deliberate ideological act as the occupation of the temples partly was? It is a possibility that the creation of a Christian sacred space away from the secular centre was a gesture evoking the independence of the Church from the existing social relationships and the dependence of the Faith on another source of power. This can be argued to have been the reason for the construction of the cathedral at Tipasa on the edge of the city in opposition to the ‘collis templensis’ and the same sort of motivation may have lain behind the positioning of basilicas at other cities.130 It may well have been the ideology of the setting that was the initial reason for the construction and their

127 Brakke 1998, 464-465 citing Athanasius, Festal Letter, 41. Cf. Brakke 1995, 3-6, 102 and Davis 1998, 322 for another example of competition for pilgrims in Egypt. The Melitians were a similar group to the Donatists, growing out of the Great Persecution and being a rigorist group who set themselves against the traditores in the clergy. They do not seem to have been as strong in Egypt as the Donatists were in North Africa partly because the Catholic community’s bishop during the persecution, Peter of Alexandria, died as a martyr. {footnote continues}

Many Melitians rejoined the Church following the Council of Nicaea in 325 but the community continued to prove to be an irritant to Athanasius Martin 1996, 303-319. 128 August. Ep. 103.2. 129 Lepelley 1979, 358. ‘A coup sûr, le christianisme ne parvenait pas, à cette époque, à se substituter comme ciment civique au paganisme déchu, et Nectarius savait qu’il avait, sur ce point précis, la partie belle.’ 130 See Tipasa case study.

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importance of the churches would have created multi-focal settlements where the civic centres, major temple complexes, entertainment structures, principal churches and cemetery basilicas competed for predominance in the mental map of the cities’ inhabitants. In itself such alterations in the way that the city was perceived was a significant change from the concept of what was important in the city from earlier periods when the forum and its associated constructions would have been the secular and religious hub of activity. The changes described here would have been a gradual process marked by sudden moments of change. The construction of churches in the urban centres was not merely a simple physical change where funds were diverted into an entirely new area of euergetism. The building programmes of a multiplicity of Christian communities across the region would also have involved conceptual and ideological changes about how urban space was perceived and what comprised the key structures in the city, at least among the Christian population.

peripheral location then allowed for huge structures rather than the desire to create huge structures led to their being built on the peripheries. Additionally in some cases it is clear that the large churches grew out of earlier, smaller cores. In such cases the potential for constructing monumental martyr complexes is unlikely to have been a motivation for the foundation of the structure. It could be postulated that it was the Donatists who were the most likely sect to set up their churches in opposition to the centre, in order to physically represent their opposition to the pagan world, but this cannot be demonstrated from the archaeological remains. If the ‘Donatist cathedral’ at Thamugadi was on the periphery so too was the presumably Catholic cathedral at Tipasa and the Catholic episcopal group at Cuicul and it is impossible to say what sect held the complex at Theveste. Whatever the reason for their construction in peripheral areas it does not seem to have been sectarian theology but general Christian ideology or practicality. It is unlikely that it had anything to do with not wanting to cause offence to the pagans by placing it within the heart of the secular and pagan religious area around the forum as there are plenty of examples of basilicas being placed into central areas of the town and possibly temples in the fifth century and, as has been shown, Christian violence against pagans was on the increase during Augustine’s lifetime. It is probable that there was not a general rule or theory that lay behind the location of basilicas on the edges of the cities beyond the placing of martyr churches into the cemeteries but as the siting of Christian structures within the secular basilicas, temples, and cemeteries were resonant with ideological concepts it seems likely that this was also partly the case for the large complexes on the edges of a town. Practicalities would certainly have been important at some stage in their creation but whether they were the driving force behind the positioning is a matter for debate.

Part of the reasoning behind the installation of churches into specific locations, may have been that they stressed the monumentality and power of the Church through the grand vistas that they overlooked or due to the fact that the spot was on a rise that could be seen beyond the town. In the latter case anyone approaching a town and seeing a large basilica or converted temple rising above the settlement or dominating a major road could not have failed to be impressed by their sheer majesty. This would in itself create a positive reaction to the religious group that controlled the structure both in terms of recognition of its power and in terms of respect (even if this was abrogated somewhat by opposition to Christianity among the audience). The desire to dominate the town’s line of sights may in fact be, in part at least, behind the insertion of churches into the temples of North Africa as these were often placed into areas that dominated the town’s perspectives. The ‘Donatist Cathedral’, situated above the town of Thamugadi would undoubtedly have dominated the city, as it was built on land that rose ten to twenty metres above the rest of the town. This may have been an important factor behind the construction of the cathedral in this zone as there was much more room for the structure to the west of the town, this area was, however, around forty metres lower than the hill on which it was actually placed and would not have dominated the town so efficiently. The placement of the structure above the town may have been an ideological statement about the strength and power of Donatism over the city as a whole and in comparison to its rival Christian sect and

The large non-cemetery Christian centres on the periphery such as those of Cuicul, Theveste, Thamugadi and Tipasa would certainly have created a Christian focus for the town, whether or not they were deliberately set up in opposition to the secular centre. The Christian population would have frequently assembled at the structures, not only for worship but also for the distribution of alms for the poor and to seek the aid of the bishop or priest in legal affairs. The congregations of the churches would have regarded the structures with at least the same amount of respect that they held for the fora and judicial basilicas of North Africa. The

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paganism. The sheer size of the complex would have made it visible from much of the town and perhaps just as importantly from the western approaches to Thamugadi. From such a dominating location the complex must have impinged on to the consciousness of every inhabitant of the city and all those who passed through it, whether pagan, Catholic or Donatist. Individual’s reactions to the complex would probably have differed depending on their religious allegiance but its sheer size would have made it impossible to ignore. The churches in the centre of Sufetula provide a different example of the way that Christian churches dominated the map of the city. Churches I, III and IV clustered around the forum and principal streets in the town centre. For the inhabitants of the city there could be no mistake as to which religion dominated the fifth century city; Sufetulan Christians were clearly within the ascendant in the town.

composition may have varied from place to place.132 Curran, arguing from Lactantius, suggests that the lack of archaeological evidence of prominent churches before the reign of Constantine does not mean that the ‘Christians who used them sought to conceal their identity’.133 The Roman authorities do frequently seem to have known exactly where Christian leaders were when they wanted to arrest them but while some churches would have been noticeable the latent menace of persecution would surely have militated against many overt demonstrations of the Christian communities’ wealth and status.134 It was one thing not to hide but another to actually be provocative for much of the pre-Constantinian period. The famous Nicomedean example of a large preConstantinian church was the product of fifty years of peace between Church and State and perhaps proximity to the imperial court.135 Such confidence may have been replicated elsewhere but while it is theoretically possible that there were large and recognisable churches in Africa by the late third century there is no evidence exactly comparable to that of Nicomedia. In the textual evidence it is clear that there were assembly places containing specialised rooms for different jobs by the mid to late third century but again specifics of location, size and visibility to the wider community are rarely addressed.136 The greatest detail comes from the Gesta Apud Zenophilum, which forms part of Optatus’ dossier against the Donatists. The Christian group in Cirta met in a house (domus), which did contain a book-room (bibliotheca) but no other specialised rooms or liturgical installations are mentioned.137 The texts say nothing about the

Dating the Christianisation of the city The third century Christian urban landscape in North Africa is invisible in the archaeological record, albeit that the extant churches, especially in the cemeteries, will preserve the imprint of the Christian landscape of death that started to appear from the martyrdom of Perpetua and her companions at the latest.131 The Christianisation of the urban topography in North Africa could be considered to have been under way at the beginning of the third century when Perpetua and her companions were buried at Carthage. However, although the cemetery would have been a key element of the town (in terms of honoured and sacred areas) for Christians, this effect would not have expanded into the community as a whole until these areas became more noticeable by the population at large. Although pagans would have known about these sanctuaries they may not have featured in their mental image of the town until after the construction of the major basilicas when they became the most obvious monumental constructions in the suburbs and cemeteries. So although the cemetery churches are mainly of the late fourth and early fifth centuries, as was the case for the basilicas on the periphery of the cities, many of the former may have had their origins in much earlier graves and martyria. There must also have been Christian meeting places within the cities of the third century and earlier, but until 312 the vast majority of these were probably unobtrusive, although their exact

132 The earliest and best-known house church is that of DuraEuropos, it was converted for Christian cultic use but from the outside it was indistinguishable from other houses. Welles 1967, 127-155. From papyri it is clear that there were obvious churches at Oxyrhynchus in the late third century. P.Oxy. I (1898), No. 43 verso, reprinted in White 1997, 164-6. There is also some evidence from Rome of late third century Christian structures underneath later churches, for instance the ‘titulus Byzantis’ White, 1997, 209-218. 133 Curran 2000, 3. 134 Gesta apud Zenophilium 3-4, Optatus App. I 135 Lactant. de mort. pers. 12. Ward-Perkins argues that the fact that the church at Nicomedia only took a few hours to raze suggests that the church was actually quite small but fundamentally it depends how many men were used and how hard they worked It is difficult to make any serious judgements about its size from Lactantius’ statements. WardPerkins, J.B. 1994, 457. 136 White (1997) conveniently assembles the literary evidence for churches in the third century or earlier. Most North African examples provide very little detail beyond mentioning a ‘church’. Cyprian, Ep. 39.5.2 mentions the tribunal of the church and in Ep. 59.18.1 mentions the altar. Tertullian (Apol. 39.5) does mention a ‘treasury’ (arca) but this need not be more than a cupboard or box. 137 Gesta apud Zenophilium 1-4, Optatus App. I

131 The basilica at Hippo was established over earlier housing but there is no evidence to suggest that the houses were used for Christian meetings. Marrou 1960, 146-7; White 1990, 23; Gui, Duval and Caillet 1992, 346-9.

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location of the churches within the city or the size and layout of the assembly room.

that Thamugadi III and the basilica of Carthagenna at Carthage were built over earlier housing as the Christian communities of the Empire had been meeting in house churches or converted buildings for three centuries by the mid to late fourth century. By this period space was also being made in the urban framework by the retreat of paganism from its monumental structures and by the redundancy of other constructions to the population of the cities. As has been stated above there were ideological as well as practical reasons behind siting Christian structures within pagan temples and why Christians may not have wished to build their basilicas in these structures until the late fourth century even if they were previously available for transformation.140 Metamorphoses in ideology or variations in opportunity allowed the insertion of a Christian urban topography into the existing city framework. At the same time the Churches of North Africa, principally the Donatist and Catholic but presumably the Rogatist too in Caesarensis and for a while the Maximianist in Proconsularis and Byzacena were becoming very wealthy allowing the construction of these basilicas within the town, those large basilicas on the periphery of the urban area, and extension and further construction of cemetery basilicas.

In the early fourth century there is some indication of churches and martyria being built in the cemeteries but these are few in number and the process of the Christianisation of the North African city is not really visible until the second half of the fourth century when basilicas began to be built within the city (but not in important forum/basilica complexes), until then the old, non-monumental meeting places may have been used.138 The construction of urban churches then continued up until the Vandal invasion and from the late fourth century large basilicas on the periphery and in the cemeteries started to be built. In the fifth century basilicas began to be constructed in and around the forum/judicial basilicas. There may then have been some progression in Christian building from the cemeteries into the urban area in general in the later fourth century. From the cemetery basilicas there was a development to creating larger structures on the periphery of the city and then finally the very heart of the cities’ monumental centres began to have churches placed into them. Of course this is a very general schema and the cities that have been examined display different trajectories. Why did Christianisation progress in this fashion? It undoubtedly reflects a series of interlocking pressures and desires both inside and outside of the Christian community. The initial desire to create a Christian space may have centred on those sites that had already played a significant part in the history of Christianity in North Africa, and which had long played a part in establishing Christian ideology and ritual. After beginning the beautification of the sites of the Holy Dead it would have been natural for the Christian community to do the same with its sacred space in the city or to create new ones where appropriate. There is some debate over the exact process through which Christians moved from meeting in houses to meeting in basilicas. An ad hoc process that was impacted on by growth in size and wealth of congregations and lengthy periods of peace led to the gradual evolution of Christian meeting places prior to the Peace of the Church.139 It is not surprising then

The progression and the rate of Christianisation can be explained by several interrelated factors: the continued vitality of the cities into the late fourth century; changes of ideology within the Christian community and among the Imperial elite at Rome that allowed for the closing of the temples; the evolution of Christian attitudes to the city and the placement of buildings; the growing wealth of the Church; and finally by the personal actions of individuals, whether bishops or donors, that created specific conditions in certain cities. How these factors interlocked at any given city would have dictated the way that Christianisation evolved. The final question to be considered is where were the basilicas located between 312 and the middle of the fourth century in the cities of North Africa? It is utterly impossible that churches were not present in numbers sufficient to serve a peristyle courtyard while others view the basilica as coming from the monumental vocabulary of the Roman State with Constantine’s intervention being important. The exact process is not crucial for this work but Edwards (1997, 164 n. 83) points out that the Gesta apud Zenophilum, 15 in Optatus, App. 1 mentions a basilica rather than a house-church as a meeting place at the time of the Great Persecution, it could however be an anachronistic appellation. Cf. Ward-Perkins, J.B. 1954, 69-90; Krautheimer 1977, 24-46; White 1990, 1225. 140 See pages 93-99.

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One of the few examples from the early fourth century dates from between 309-334 at Altava. There an inscription mentions a mensa and a basilica as well as a memoria and probably a confessio. Marcillet-Jaubert, J. (1968) Les inscriptions d’Altava, Aix-en-Provence, 32-5 (=no. 19) in White 1997, 240-1 139 There is some debate over the exact process by which the house-church evolved into a basilical form. Some scholars see gradual evolution with the basilica growing out of the {footnote continues}

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Christian population large enough to warrant several hundred bishops at the end of the third century. As that is the case it must be that the earlier churches have not been recognised; either due to the fact that they are located in truncated form beneath later Christian structures and have not been recognised by archaeologists; because the earlier churches have not as yet been excavated (although this seems unlikely to be the case for almost all of the cities of North Africa); or because the Christian communities were still using their house-churches in the early to mid fourth century.

networks centring on both the clergy and the worshippers. Had the church not been built then some social networks based on Christianity would not have existed at all while at the same time more intimate personal networks based around the house-church may have been destroyed by the increased size of the congregation. As Grahame suggests the architectural landscape itself can be used as a means of control excluding or including people depending on the function of the building under consideration.143 These structures are rigid and continually restrict movement but they can be changed to alter the way in which this dynamic is managed. The presence of churches at a city would automatically create internal boundaries that would restrict movement for the population. As with temples and municipal government buildings the churches had spaces reserved for an elite but in this case there were very many more ranks and a greater variety of spaces in the equation. Some ranks of clergy or laymen could penetrate only into certain areas within an ecclesiastical complex whilst others had access to the entire group. It was undoubtedly the case that the boundaries erected by the presence of a church excluded a good proportion of the population due to their religion. It would have been harder for pagans or Christians to penetrate into the precincts of another faith than to walk into the religious buildings of their own. The fact that people would not be able to move in some social circles that others could would have served to emphasise the separation of a populace into several religious groups; pagans and Christians, Manichees and Jews. This would also be true, although perhaps to a lesser extent because of more permeable theological barriers, between Donatists, Rogatists, Maximinists, Catholics and other Christian sects. Whilst there would have been some level of separation the syncretic approach to religion that many of the North African population seem to have adopted would have limited the severity of the boundaries between Catholics and pagans and Catholics and Donatists, but whether it would have kept some level of transference between Donatist and pagan religious communities going with the Donatists’ violent anti-pagan rhetoric may be doubted.144 Religious faith would have had more than just an effect on religious practice and philosophies of life it would also have had a great influence on the way in which people met each other and formed social links.

RESULTS OF THE TRANSFORMATION OF SPACE The actual transformation of the urban landscape in the fourth and fifth centuries has now been dealt with in some detail and it is clear that there were substantial changes in the relationship of Christianity to the built environment during this period. What effect might this have had in terms of personal relationships? Again an absence of evidence makes it difficult to analyse this problem. It is likely that changes in the built environment would have altered some societal bonds. Urbanism creates a specific form of society and in this case it created the links between and within the Christian and nonChristian population of the cities.141 The patronage links that bonded the clergy and the curial class of a city, which were created by the structure of Roman society, would be important links when the Church wished to insert its structures into the urban area. More generally the importance of the clergy’s influence to mediate the problems created by religious dispute can be seen in Augustine’s letters. The power of the Church and the power of the curia are clearly the mediums through which the urban landscape was transformed in this era.142 The members of the two institutions are affected by their own religious and social ideologies so that in certain cities the dynamic in the upper classes permitted the construction of Christian structures while in others it did not. Donatists or Catholics on the curia may have attempted to block their opponents’ buildings from being constructed, but any such arguments are lost. Obviously the erection of a church complex gave the Christian population a place to congregate but this in itself allowed for a greater development of social 141 Grahame 1997, 154. It would be wrong to suggest that the Christian and pagan communities were they were discrete populations that did not mix as this was patently not the case. For semi-Christians or paganised Christians see Bonner 1984, 348-354. 142 Grahame 1997, 155.

143

Grahame 1997, 155. Donatists, Catholics, and pagans all asked Augustine for help during his episcopal tenure.

144

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MacMullen would view the congregation of the churches as having proportionally more members of the elite than we would expect if a true crosssection of the population was attending sermons.145 He uses the language of John Chrysostom in particular, but also Augustine, Gregory of Nyssa and others to show that they were speaking to the elite and extrapolates the greater representation of the wealthy in the churches with the mass of the population only attending on certain days.146 This argument fails to fully take into account the potential for the polishing of sermons for publication, whose audience would have to have been educated, and the rhetoric of a speaker communicating to his most important constituency and ignoring the presence of others or flattering the entire population. John might have lectured to the elite over the heads of the majority and only occasionally deigned to speak to the rest of the population, which MacMullen admits he occasionally did.147 Augustine’s statement that he was not addressing the uncultivated cannot necessarily be seen as literal.148 The appointment of bishops to fundi and castella, Augustine’s concern to create acrostic psalms and his desire to get Punic clergy suggests rather greater participation by the mass of society in Christian worship than MacMullen would allow.149 In any case, for the argument of this section, the fact that the whole population was represented in church on at least certain holy days would have created new links within society even if the old dynamics of social deference still played a part.150

made him the city’s most powerful inhabitant in the late fourth century suggesting that at that time and place Donatists would have felt at their strongest and most secure. This suggests that any trigger for the creation of a ghetto there may have been due to an act of ideology rather than out of fear or a desire for greater security.151 The ghetto or quarter would therefore, in terms of Donatism, have been a means of fostering a sense of communal identity, of separating the righteous off from the ‘other’, the ‘servant of Satan’. It would also have been a means of control for the Donatist bishop as with his flock under his constant gaze their behaviour could be regulated all the more readily and their attitude to both their spiritual masters and their spiritual enemies could be developed to his satisfaction. Ghettos could also be created when one group corralled its enemies into a quarter as a means of segregation. Circumstances such as those at Hippo where the Donatists sought to prevent Catholics from buying bread from Donatist bakers can be seen as the first step along this path. On this reading ‘Christian quarters’ could be seen as the creation of hostile action by communities outside of that within the ‘ghetto’. The effect of force based ‘ghettoisation’ either under the direction of Donatist or Catholic leaders has been examined in a slightly different context by Maier with regard to Rome.152 There he demonstrates that the ‘topography of heresy and dissent’ in Rome during the late fourth century was often restricted to private space of the patrons of the heretical or schismatic community or to the shrines of the martyrs on the outskirts of the city. North African cities may not be directly comparable to Rome in this respect. It would have been far easier to push Cataphrygian or Pelagian groups onto the fringes of the sacred topography of Rome, where emperors were relatively close at hand in the late fourth century and where the dissenting churches were small, than it would have been for either Catholic or Donatist communities to force such a behavioural necessity onto their enemies. While that is the case it is clear that in certain periods, following the return of the Donatist exiles in 362 or after the Council of Carthage in 411 for example, or in certain places such as Thamugadi or Carthage, North African religious communities may have been forced to make use of the house church or martyr’s shrine once again. Indeed Maier reminds us that the Donatist community at Rome, which had been created to cater for African exiles’ needs and to prevent Catholic prelates from making too much of Donatism’s geographical isolation, met in out of the way

With regard to the boundaries that a structure, or set of structures, could create there is little evidence of the ghettoisation of Christian sectaries or the adherents of the traditional religions in North African cities. The militant Donatist opposition to Catholics and pagans has already been noted but there is little physical evidence to suggest that this ideology was carried through into the urban landscape. Thamugadi and its quarter surrounding the ‘Donatist’ basilica may be the exception to this. Optatus of Thamugadi’s activities in the surrounding area 145

MacMullen 1989, 503-511. MacMullen 1989, 506-507. MacMullen 1989, 506. John Chrysostom, In ep. I ad Cor. homil. 5.6 and Ad pop. Antioch. homil. 19.1 148 August. Serm. 123.5. MacMullen 1989, 509. 149 Gesta Coll. Carth. I.181-182; August. psalmum contra pars donati; August. Ep. 93. 150 The importance of social status can even be seen in monasticism. Jerome’s circle of female ascetics still had servants even after they had given everything else away and they controlled their own monastic communities. E.g. Jerome, Ep. 108.20 for Paula’s monastery where the virgins were divided into three groups based on social status; 108.28 for servants. 146 147

151 152

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Grahame 1997, 156. Maier 1995, 233-249.

places at the fringes of society.153 The power of one community could shape the religious topography of both its own meeting places and those of its enemies.

reasoning behind the conversion of temples and basilicas for Christian use whether this occurred at the beginning or end of the fifth century. The pagan and Christian populations of the cities would have reacted differently towards the insertion of churches into their cores but both groups would have understood, even if only at a sub-conscious level, that the building form expressed the power of the community and officials that used the structure. They had been conditioned by their society from birth to understand the symbolism and associations of the temple and basilical structures. All would have understood that power and patronage, both temporal and spiritual, emanated from these structures. The same sorts of considerations are equally applicable to the construction and reconstruction of secular or public buildings. Changes have to be discussed and thought over. Some changes, such as urgent repairs, would probably have been rather less disputed than the total removal of a temple, even a disused one, to make way for a secular basilica or for an expansion in housing. Even after the closure of the temples there must have been pagans in African curiae that would have opposed their demolition or occupation.

Although classical culture was generally frowned upon by the Donatist hierarchy in their writings it is likely that there were communities such as at those of Thamugadi or Cirta-Constantine, where the Donatist community may have looked upon the city as theirs and the Catholics could have ended up marginalized.154 Even under Constantine’s rule the Catholic clergy were unable to regain control of the basilica donated by him at Cirta after the Donatists had seized it. In such cities the Donatists may have still been able to hold themselves separate from the classical culture and maintain their persecution complex despite forming majorities or powerful minorities. The Donatists at Thamugadi for instance may have been able to separate the notion of the temporally powerful Optatus from their general conception of the city as the seat of Roman, anti-Donatist power. This means that even at Thamugadi, where Donatists were more powerful than Catholics, the Donatist Cathedral could have been on the town’s outskirts because of the Donatists seeing themselves as a sect and wanting to create a specifically Donatist focus to the city opposed to the ‘pagan’ centre.

What would be the likely psychological effect of these changes on the pagan community? Certainly it would have been devastating, what greater psychological blow could have been administered to them than the conversion of their holy places to the religious use of an upstart religion. The Christian community may well have aimed at destroying the backbone of the pagan community through temple conversions by demonstrating the impotence of gods who were unable to protect their own temples. Even if the dating of temple conversions is incorrect the closure of temples and the construction of churches may have had a similar, if less overwhelming, impact. This assessment of Christian motives is largely hypothetical, not least regarding its date, but Aurelius of Carthage’s actions and attacks on pagan processions and communities detailed above are of this ilk. Furthermore there is a possibility that many uncommitted pagans who were simply ‘religious’ may have been drawn towards the Church simply because it held places of spiritual power within the town that could be associated with the town’s history. The concept of sacredness and therefore some religious loyalties may have been transferred from one hierarchy to another.

Obviously the construction of a Christian space changes the urban landscape significantly. One success in developing a space would have strengthened the community’s desire for further and greater successes where the need or will for more churches existed.155 The opposition to these changes, beyond the simple pagan opposition to the new religion, would have revolved around worry at the effect that the change might create in terms of potential damage to existing social structures and the weakening of pre-existing social networks. In terms of Christianity this might mean that the bishop, ensconced within his episcopal complex, could, due to the status that it would give him, gather significant patronal powers to himself, to the detriment of existing patrons within the city. The opposition to new Christian building may also have feared that the creation of an ecclesiastical space in the heart of their city would have led to inexorable pressure to allow further construction. Such creeping Christianisation may have led some pagans to question whether the town was still really their own. Power, and the usurpation of the symbols of power, was clearly part of the ideological

The transmission of power from the old pagan and secular constructions to the new churches has been discussed but the insertion of churches

153 Maier 1995, 247-248 citing the Roman Synod of 378, 580A,B and 585B,C (PL 13). 154 Constantine to the Numidian bishops in Optatus, App. 10. 155 Giddens 1984, 10-13.

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into temples may have heightened the sense of continuity into the Christian era for the population of the city. Although the theological, ecclesiastical and mental changes that took place to allow these developments were substantial, and the alteration could have created antagonism within the pagan community, the religious nature of the temple and its focus as a place of worship would have continued. As Bayliss suggests the transformed temple would still have held its place within the mental map of the city’s inhabitants as a place of worship and, as the population gradually became Christian, it would provide a comforting link with the past.156 This may have made it easier for much of the city’s population to accept the changing nature of religion in late antiquity; some elements were remaining constant. Bayliss also postulates that there may have been a subtle coercive effect in maintaining a temple as a Christian structure as individuals may have felt that the spiritual power of the structure had now been conferred on Christianity, leading to their conversion.157 While this is possible it suggests a lack of selfawareness among the pagan community and little in the way of emotional or spiritual connection to the age-old religion. This may have been true for some people, some evidence for syncretism has been discussed, but the exact mechanisms of conversion in North Africa are irrecoverable in all cases apart from those of Arnobius and Augustine and his friends. Additionally the date of temple conversion would be crucial here, the impact of the adaptation would have been lessened as time passed from the closure of the temples. If temples were not converted until the late fifth century or later then there may have been few pagans to convert by that date. In any case while the maintenance of the formerly pagan landscape within a Christian milieu is likely to have provided a sense of continuity for the pagan or newly converted Christian it is unlikely to have coerced committed pagans into converting, they were probably going to be far too angry at the usurpation of their structures for that, but it could, theoretically, be part of a complex of motivations behind conversion.

surroundings. In effect their mental map of the city had new, important features transcribed on to it as the result of the new developments. This, of course, would also have been the case when new secular structures were constructed or redeveloped in the late antique period. The way in which churches could become landmarks can be seen in a papyrus from the Egyptian city of Oxyrhynchus that lists two streets that were named after churches; the North-Church Street, and the South-Church Street.158 Clearly by the late third century at Oxyrhynchus churches were an important enough feature to characterise a street by their presence. Movement patterns around the city would have been affected in a number of ways by the creation of a Christian topography. People would obviously have been attending new churches that would have created new foci of activity. On feast days and saints days there would have been processions between the martyr churches on the cities’ peripheries and the principal churches that were more integrated within the urban framework.. Additionally, as Christianity became established there also evolved pilgrimage networks to the shrines of important martyrs and saints, bringing in numbers of people that had an expectation of a spiritual experience but also of being fed, housed and possibly entertained. These movements would also have changed the mental maps of many of the city’s inhabitants to include new areas of importance that drew large numbers of people to them. This would undoubtedly have been the case even for pagans, Manicheans and members of rival Christian sects, these cities were simply not big enough for the population not to notice the importance of the churches to everyday life. The construction of cemetery basilicas clearly created new attitudes to the burial areas. Whereas pagans regarded the necropoleis as ritually impure and external to the town, Christians viewed the Holy Dead buried and honoured within them as being still alive in some way as the change in terminology from necropolis to coemeterium, which reflects the shift in the conceptualisation as these zones from being cities of the dead to places of sleep prior to the Last Judgement, emphasises. The fact that the Very Special Dead (to use Peter Brown’s term) were being celebrated in textual milieus and venerated in the cemeteries, coupled with the lack of antipathy for the dead in general, altered the perception of the cemetery in the minds of Roman populations.159 So the distaste with which

The alteration of the urban landscape was due to profound changes in the way that people thought and the expression of ideology and practicalities in concrete, physical forms; this process had a significant effect on the way in which the city was perceived and they way in which it changed in its operation. The introduction of churches into the topography of the city would have changed movement patterns around the city and the way in which the inhabitants viewed their

158

P.Oxy. I (1898), No. 43 verso, reprinted in White 1997: 164-6. 159 Brown 1981, 76.

156

Bayliss 1999, 66 and 68. 157 Bayliss 1999, 68.

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the experience of the peoples of the Roman Empire.

the pagans viewed the burial areas was gradually replaced by Christian devotions in them. The change in status of the cemeteries was such that the city became protected not only by the walls that encircled the city but also by a ring of extramural churches that contained the sanctified remains of the martyrs. The efficacy of such power can be seen in Saint Salsa’s actions against Firmus at Tipasa. The reservoirs of spiritual power that existed in the cemeteries helped to draw the faithful to them, as others were drawn to the bishop or the wealthy individual for patronage in this life, helping to incorporate them into the Christian mental map of the city. This incorporation was aided by Christian processional ritual out to the churches in the necropoleis, which would have helped to bind these basilicas to the town in the minds of the population. The presence of the churches would also have impacted upon those individuals who had regular business outside of the city. They would have had to pass the cemetery churches and, whether they were Christians or not, the basilicas would have become imprinted upon their consciousness, becoming identified with the city in their minds. Likewise those burying their loved ones in the cemeteries on the outskirts of a city would not have been able to escape the all-pervading influence of Christianity.

The Christian processions competed with and then took the place of the pagan processions that had formed such an important point of public ritual during the Classical period; this created a ‘negative’ effect for the ritual, urban topography by suppressing existing processional routes. Pagan processions had tied various monuments including temples, the forum, theatres, and amphitheatres together in a symbolic and religious topographical construct.160 Sacred processions appear to have been organised in a strict hierarchical fashion with priests, local senators, city magistrates, decurions and the rest of the population progressing around the city in a fashion that reflected the organisation of the city itself. The information provided by Augustine in the City of God regarding Caelestis’festivals does not detail a stratified order but it does indicate the involvement of the whole of society.161 Actors and prostitutes were apparently an integral part of the celebrations of Caelestis at Carthage. The sacred rites of the pagan cults were very different from those of Christianity even if both had their own processions. Augustine was seemingly especially horrified by the meretricia pompa and, although this prostitute’s procession is the object of considerable scholarly debate as to its historicity, it would not be totally out of place with some goddess cults stemming from the LevantineSyrian region.162 The cult of Venus at Sicca Veneria was supposed to have ritual prostitutes and an inscription of the fourth century BC from the sanctuary of Astarte at Kition in Cyprus also mentions them. The pagan processions allowed the population to have a coherent mental map of the way in which their religion related to their city and therefore their place as worshippers within their religious structure and the city. As such they were clearly highly important to the pagan communities.163

The importance of the cemetery basilicas to the Christian community and the city as a whole was emphasised by their sheer size and dominating presence over the fourth-century cemeteries, but their importance to the Christian community went beyond their dimensions. The cemetery basilicas were linked physically with the city centre by processions out to them on relevant days and by services given in them. The processions would have emphasised to the pagan world that there had been a paradigm shift in the way in which North African society related to the supernatural powers and organised itself for religious occasions. With all the continuity of society, wealth and attitude towards the city that North Africa displays there would have been a very definite sense of change and evolution when it came to religious expression. However, the very presence of sacred festivals would have created a sense of stability even as the religious map of the city was irrevocably changed. Sacred processions engendered a concept of cyclical time in the psyche of the inhabitants of a city or town. If the processions continued in a form that was familiar to the pagan population then the level of psychological/theological disturbance is likely to have been more limited than if Christianity’s connection to the divine was physically articulated in a way that was beyond

Christian pageants initially appear, in the fourth century, to have borne little relation to the pagan processions of previous centuries. These 160

Yegül 2000, 133-153. August. de civ. dei, II.4 August. de civ. dei, II.26. Halsberghe feels that Augustine’s accusations were Christian exaggerations (1984, 2206-7) and while this theoretically could be correct the range of comparators suggests that he was telling the truth. Sicca Veneria: Val. Max. II.6.15; Rives 1994, 301-2 (Venus is a Romanised Astarte here); Kition: Bonnet and Xella 1995, 324 citing Amadasi Guzzo, M.G. and Karageorghis, V. (1977) Kition III. Inscriptions phéniciennes, Nicosia, C1; Aphaca, Temple of Aphrodite (Salambô and Adonis/Tammuz): Euseb. Vit. Const., III.55; Heliopolis, Temple of Aphrodite: Euseb. Vit. Const. III.58. 163 August. de civ. dei, II.4 and 26; Ep. 90 161 162

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Christian festivals generally moved from the suburban basilicas to the urban churches or vice versa rather than progressing round the town as pagan festivals had done.164 The concentration on the martyrs and saints drew the Christian populace’s attention to loci of spiritual power created by the sacrifices and acts of previous generations of Christian holy men and women such as Saint Salsa at Tipasa or Saint Leontius at Hippo. The importance of the festivals associated with Saint Cyprian can be seen by the frequency with which Augustine gave sermons in Carthage on those dates.165 The mental map of Christians at that period, in terms of the town’s spiritual geography, would have included the cemeteries and urban churches and the streets along which they processed and of these it was certainly those extra muros churches containing relics that registered large on the Christian psyche. It was only when relics began to be moved intra muros that great importance could be attached to internal churches and the actual route as relics were born along by those on the procession.166 When this occurred the urban topography clearly had a Christian conceptual layer placed over it, the route, churches and perhaps significant loci, such as the scenes of executions, would all have carried a religious significance for the city’s population.

or following a procession are more likely to have one than someone who is not.167 The architecture and layout of these sites and processional ways aided the adherent in approaching God, their monumentality would in themselves have reminded the Christian of the power of God and suggested to them that this was a holy place. In order to stress the importance of these sites the basilicas often had monumental approaches and entrances that would have functioned as the end point of processions. The complexes at Cuicul and Theveste clearly had impressive approaches; the former was via an enclosed way, through atria and past a chapel to get to the main basilica. The latter had to be accessed via a lengthy internal street, through monumental gateways, past a large porticoed courtyard, up a monumental stairway and through an atrium. Even the ‘Donatist Church’ at Thamugadi with its internal corridors, narrow passageways and atria can be seen to be an analogous structure and the large churches at Carthage with their atria and internal vistas being restricted with forests of columns. In such circumstances, as the pilgrim passed through corridors and gates that were undoubtedly adorned with symbols of the faith, there would have been a sense of both anticipation and belonging.168 Brown claims that the long processional way through the corridors of the Theveste complex: ‘…was a microcosm of the long journey of pilgrimage itself’, but more than that the group and individual experience of the journey, which undoubtedly were felt to be spiritually beneficial, would have increased loyalty to God, the Church, and the clergy, thus emphasising the importance of the faith and patronage links produced by it in the lives of its adherents.169

As with the pagan processions of the era, the Christian pageants were organised, internally, in a hierarchical fashion with the clergy at the front and the lay members of the community following them. The clergy would have progressed in a strictly structured order with the bishop followed by his priests and then the lesser clergy. This elite-emphasising structure would also have been evident among the general community with senators, decurions and the plebeians ordered according to rank and honour. So whilst Christianising the concept of the procession and indeed making it a key feature of ‘entertainment’ throughout the Roman world the Church also perpetuated certain elements of the established hierarchy and the notion of who respect and preference was due to in society, as that hierarchy was incorporated into a Christianised societal model.

The attention to martyr cult, and in particular the feasts and processions related to it, clearly had some element of continuity with the past as well as being a development in the process of Christianisation. To some observers the activities of the Catholics and Donatists at their shrines was very close to paganism’s libation pouring at the graves of the ancestors. These are charges that Faustus a Manichaean ‘elect’ levelled at Christians in a debate with Augustine, who took great care to refute them.170 Faustus specifically

The processions themselves had their own element of awe and spiritual expectation, which was fulfilled in the service that took place at the processions end coupled with the opportunity to get close to the Holy Dead. As Jackson suggests, those that are open to the concept of spiritual experience when approaching a pilgrimage site

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Jackson 1999, 72-85. A comparable example can be seen at the pilgrimage site of Abû Mînâ in Egypt where the colonnaded approach to the main basilica becomes gradually narrower as the pilgrim nears the object of veneration. As Grossmann observes this is a deliberate attempt to manipulate/stimulate the emotional response of the devotee in order to create a greater sense of spiritual awe before arriving at the martyrium. Grossmann 1998, 287. 169 Brown 1981, 87. 170 August. c. Faust. XX.4.20-23 168

164

Bayliss 1999, 63. See Carthage case study. 166 Bayliss 1999, 63. 165

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linked pagan sacrifice with agape meals and prayers to idols with prayers to the martyrs. Additionally the preservation of some festivals such as the calends and solstices was unacceptable to Manichees. Augustine argued that the differences between Christians and pagans were huge but he and Aurelius of Carthage went to great lengths, against much popular opposition, to stamp out the feasts at the martyrs tombs such as that of Leontius at Hippo, while the Donatists were criticised by Augustine for allowing the feasts to continue.171 Continuity could sometimes be an uncomfortable thing for the Church hierarchy.

economic expenditure on building projects but the effect that these had on their surroundings and the ideological and mental changes that the population had to go through to accommodate the new reality were also important. Of course these changes would have had the most effect on the Christians of the cities but they must have psychologically affected pagans too. This was a radical change in urban life but it does not mark a degeneration of the classical culture. Rather it shows a development in a culture that could embrace Christianity and use it as a new arena for euergetism and concepts of patronage. Even without the new factor of Christianisation there were changes in the way that euergetism was practised throughout the Empire during the third century. Society cannot be expected to be static and it is certain that the elites would have had to make choices about how they demonstrated their wealth and power whether or not there was a new milieu, the churches, in which to unveil them.

There were other aspects of continuity from the pre-Christian era that meant that the impact of the changes to the urban landscape were somewhat mitigated. As has been mentioned above, in some areas the Christianisation of the urban topography did provide some continuity with the old pagan city in the way that the cemetery churches can be seen to have bound the cemeteries and suburbs to the city following the abandonment of certain parts of the cities.172 In North Africa however there is no suggestion that the basilicas were important in keeping the suburbs as an integral part of the urban landscape as they did elsewhere. The suburbs of Africa were often still thriving or growing in this period and did not need to be bound to the town by these processions.173 It should also be emphasised that although there was an element of sites becoming bi- or multi-focal this process should not be over-stressed, cities were not decentralising into multiple non-urban centres in this period. This is probably because the cities were thriving and were built up to the peripheral centres such as the Basilica of Cresconius at Cuicul or the ‘Donatist’ Cathedral at Thamugadi. The vitality of the urban centres may also have precluded the formation of villages or hamlets around the martyr’s churches, or perhaps injunctions against the proximity of inhabited areas to the dwellings of the dead still had enough force in Africa prior to the Vandal invasion to prevent the formation of such communities.

CONCLUSION There were then a number of processes that were present in North Africa in the fourth and fifth centuries and formed a backdrop to the lives of the cities’ inhabitants. In Chapter 6 the processes and developments that have been detailed here will be examined to see whether this suggests ‘decline’, continuity or something else for the cities of North Africa during the late Empire. The pattern produced by the cities of North Africa in the late Empire will also be examined in conjunction with those for the rest of the West and the East to see which of these areas, if any, related the most closely in terms of its processes to what was occurring in the study area.

The rise of Christianity as both a religion of a large proportion of the North African population, and as a key internal power within the Empire as a whole, had a major effect on the cities of North Africa. There were changes in the physical and 171 These conflicts were not unique to Africa. For example, like Augustine, neither Athanasius nor Apa Shenoute were impressed with excessive feasting and drinking at the shrines and wrote (and preached) against such behaviour. Timbie 1998: 416. 172 Cf. Chapter 3. 173 Cf. Loseby 1996, 66-7.

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CHAPTER 6 DECLINE, CONTINUITY OR TRANSFORMATION?

INTRODUCTION

DEVELOPMENTS IN NORTH AFRICA

The final chapter of this book will examine concepts such as decline, transformation and continuity and their application to the cities of North Africa in order to draw conclusions about the relationship of the late Roman cityscape to that of the earlier Empire. This chapter will discuss whether the concept of ‘decline’ is applicable to the processes that were taking place in North Africa and, if it is a valid concept at all in the light of the discussion, in this thesis. It will also explore the relationship between the developments within North Africa and those patterns produced by the examination of the Western European provinces and those of the Eastern Empire in Chapter 3. In this way the contribution of this book to the general discussion on the fate of the cities of the Empire in the later Roman period can be assessed. This chapter will draw together the themes of change and continuity that have run throughout this work in relation to religious developments and the transformation of the city in the late Empire. What is meant by continuity in this context? When referring to the later Roman Empire the evocation of continuity is used to suggest the maintenance, in some manner, of an aspect of the early imperial city. For instance the pagan monumental heritage was often maintained although in a new Christian schema. However, while continuity with the past was clearly important there was an ongoing process of transformation of the cities of North Africa. This can be seen in the new Christian concentration on the cemeteries as a place where veneration and worship could occur.

Occupation of the urban area First, the concept of decline will be examined in terms of the occupation of the North African urban area. As was discussed in Chapter 3 the presence of a quantitative rise or decline in the population of a city is a difficult concept to address due to questions of population density and what the presence of a set of walls suggests. Chapter 4 and 5 demonstrated that there was a change in the inhabited area in the late imperial North African cities from what had gone before. There does seem to have been continued growth in population into the fourth century in most of the cities studied and in the case of Sitifis at least this continued into the second half of that century, while in some cities such as Lepcis and Sabratha, which were beset by particular problems, there was some retraction of the urban area. ‘Decline’ could therefore be used as a term to suggest contraction of population (or at least urban area) in the case of some cities that were doing especially badly in the fourth century. However, as there seems to have been little in the way of contraction in North Africa during the period under consideration it seems reasonable to conclude, in general at least, that there was strong continuity in terms of growth and maintenance of urban population into the fourth century and probably in many areas through into the Vandal occupation. Urbanism was still in favour in fourth and fifth century North Africa among the population at large in a way that does not seen to have been the case in Gaul, Germany, Italy and Britain. This could be due to several factors: first, there was substantially less disruption to the African provinces in the fourth and fifth centuries than elsewhere in the Western Empire. Even when the Vandals conquered the provinces the period of warfare was short and limited enough not to have caused much in the way of long-term disruption. Second, the fact that urbanisation had much deeper roots in North Africa than in much of the rest of the West may also have helped to maintain the city to largely the scale of the third century. After all unlike many areas of Gaul and Britain the majority of the North African cities

The comments that will be made with regard to the various areas of the Empire are by their very nature general as the three regions are huge but in order to examine the differences between the three main areas of the Empire this is necessary. For example there were obviously differences in the rate of Christianisation between Italy and Britain but both areas are discussed here under the heading of ‘The West’; even on a subprovincial level there were differences between the fates of groups or even individual cities in the late Empire.

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were not Imperial implantations into a preurbanised landscape but rather a reworking of the existing pattern. After all many foundations in the northwest were only of the first century AD and were, in many cases, less than two hundred years old when they suffered a down turn in their fortunes. Third, the maintenance of long distance trade networks connecting North Africa to the rest of the Mediterranean, and for the fourth and early fifth centuries in particular the growth in importance of the annona to Rome, meant that there was still available channels of huge wealth production in the region. As organisation and export of the agricultural surpluses would have concentrated on some cities this may have created enough wealth at these locations to make immigration into the city worthwhile.

also demonstrate this trend. While this is true this does not, as has been previously noted, mean that the cities in general had ceased to undertake works on their monuments. Not only was there a decrease in the number of inscriptions commemorating the construction or reconstruction of buildings in the late Empire, but there is also evidence that in some cities this work was itself ceasing. Lepcis in particular demonstrates the fact that in the fourth century there was a tendency for the previous generations of local worthies dedicating buildings and statues to their own glory, and sometimes to the emperor’s majesty, to give way to provincial governors dedicating monuments; although again Lepcis can be considered a special case in light of developments within Tripolitania in the 360s.2 Elsewhere in the case studies individuals continued the age-old tradition of the benefactor although the governor often was mentioned in an honorific fashion on the inscription, flattery went a long way towards advancement in the Empire of the fourth century. Furthermore there is evidence, for instance at Cuicul, that those of the status of decurion were starting to undertake euergetism within the new Christian schema instead.3

The concept of continuity appears to be a better way of approaching the study of the North African urban area in the fourth and fifth centuries than that of decline. Growth in occupied area demonstrates continuity of occupation in its own right but cannot be said to demonstrate continuity of lifestyle or continuity in urban ideology. The rest of this chapter will examine whether such concepts are evinced in the study of the North African cities.

The classical concept of beautifying your city for your own status and for the edification and pleasure of the masses was certainly not dead in North Africa as it seems to have been elsewhere in the West. This may have been due to both the persistence of the urban environment as a whole into the fifth century that encouraged the wealthy to continue using this forum as a means of display but also because of general conservatism among the aristocracy of the region. Such conservatism may have been supported by the persistence of the cities and because of a belief that the old way of demonstrating piety and filial loyalty to the city, as well as gaining glory both among their peers and in front of the mass of the citizenry, was important enough to continue erecting inscriptions commemorating the works that they had paid for. It may be that some works were undertaken in North Africa that were not documented by inscriptions because of the general loss of the epigraphic habit in the third and fourth centuries (although some of the archaeologically attested work may have had lost dedications). The North African, aristocracy although more faithful to the traditional means of commemoration than were their peers elsewhere in the Empire, were still open to adopting the new ways of establishing an impressive reputation which, as has been detailed in

Erection of inscriptions and construction of buildings Chapter 5 examined the extent of North African inscriptions commemorating the construction or re-construction of buildings in the late third, fourth and early fifth centuries. It highlighted those building types that were generally improved or built and which were most popular in the late Empire, it also examined those provinces that show the most continuity with the past. Although it is the case that there was a persistence of the tradition of erecting inscriptions commemorating works on public structures into the early fifth century it is true that there are far fewer examples of inscriptions within the late Empire than there had been up to the Severan period. At Lepcis, for example, while there are 236 non-funerary texts that can be related to specific buildings during the Roman era only 43 come from the period under consideration with possibly as few as four coming from the fifth century.1 Of course this is partly a symptom of the wealth of the city, in particular in the Antonine and Severan periods, and the great stress that it was under from the 360s onwards but other cities of North Africa 1 Condron 1998, 45. The first figure is worked out from Condron’s 291 securely located inscriptions minus the late antique funerary inscriptions and the mausolea, the second figure comes from an examination of Lepelley.

2 3

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Lepelley 1981, 337-339. See Cuicul case study.

could afford while the lacuna in construction work during the bulk of the third century could be considered to be a necessary corrective to the over expenditure of the previous period. The vast amount of money expended at Cuicul, Lepcis and other cities in the early third century cannot have been sustainable in the long term. For a start some of these projects were imperially backed and marked a level of interest in North Africa from natives of the region who had risen to the purple that never materialised again as long as the Empire lasted. When this is taken into account it must be appreciated that such huge construction projects as can be seen in the anomaly that is the Severan forum at Lepcis, the Severan building projects at Cuicul or other projects at a multiplicity of North African cities, were simply not going to happen in the fourth century. That being the case, the projects that were undertaken such as the construction of various city walls, the reconstruction of baths and the building of new basilicas, some of them huge, was quite impressive.

Chapters 4 and 5, revolved around the beautification of private residences and the villa. North Africa displays some continuity from the earlier period in the number of inscriptions that were erected in the fourth century and in who was commissioning them. There is certainly much more persistence in North Africa than most of the rest of the Western Empire in this regard, but there was a general decrease in the actual number of inscriptions. Such a contraction was a change in the ritual mechanism of display and personal glorification but this was not necessarily an indicator of either a qualitative or quantitative decline in euergetism from either individuals or the city itself. To sum up the changes in the late Empire with regard to the erection of commemorative inscriptions it can be stated that the ‘decline’ in the epigraphic habit demonstrates a change in ideology throughout the Empire rather than a decline. In North Africa the development of a negative attitude to inscriptions could be said to have been slower rather than there being less of a decline than elsewhere.

A further reason for any quantitative reduction in construction could be postulated. It is not surprising that the cities of North Africa did not continue constructing many more sets of baths, fora, judicial basilicas or amphitheatres in the fourth and fifth centuries after all there was very little need for yet another set of baths when the population was not that much larger. Perhaps the reconstruction work and ornamentation of individual structures can be seen as a response to the realisation that this was the case; refurbishment can be seen as a more appropriate use of funds. In a city well provided with sets of baths, for example, the construction of yet another could well have been an unnecessary burden. To take circuses and amphitheatres as an example, these entertainment venues were so expensive to construct that only a very few cities or groups of individuals could ever afford them. The larger cities had built such structures by the beginning of the third century and did not need to build them again so there were never going to be many new amphitheatres in the period, renovation and embellishment of existing structures was always more likely than the construction of new ones. Only two North African cities, Carthage and Thysdrus, are known to have built multiple amphitheatres in the early Roman period and at the former its second or third century amphitheatre merely replaced its Augustan one. So, just because cities were not constructing vast numbers of new buildings, does not mean that they were not thriving. This impacts considerably upon the consideration of the themes of decline and continuity. Elements of the ancient city can continue and thrive without

There was simply too much construction and reconstruction within the late Roman cityscape for the civilisation to be irreversibly ‘declining’. Archaeologically, epigraphically and textually it is possible to trace developments in individual buildings into the early fifth century or later, as has been demonstrated at length in the case studies and the discussion chapter. These developments were sometimes patchy repair work but it cannot be doubted that in many cases the quality of the work was up to, or indeed surpassed, the standards of the early Empire. For instance, the mosaicists of late Roman Africa were masters of the art. The mosaics of the baths at Thuburbo Maius or the mosaic of the Master Julius from Carthage are, by any subjective measure, excellent. In another sphere the vast Christian basilicas of Carthage, Tipasa and Theveste are usually larger and certainly just as intricate as any temple. The tradition of continued construction and repair is seen with baths in particular but also with fora, judicial and other basilicas, triumphal arches, temples up to the Diocletianic era at least and markets. In other words all of the building types of the early Empire are represented to some degree or another in the building traditions of North Africa in the late Roman era. The amount of building undertaken did not match the levels of the Antonine or Severan periods but this should not be considered as a symptom of decline. In fact it may be that the building work undertaken during the fourth and early fifth centuries was at the natural level that the cities

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aspects such as personal glorification through construction necessarily being a key facet of life in the late Empire.

buildings. There were also obvious developments in the way that Christianity came to be supported by the Imperial hierarchy and the structures that the Church established and constructed but to what extent can this be viewed as change or continuity? Many of the mechanics of change within this area have already been explored in chapter five but the extent to which they presage continuity or decline will be discussed here.

Wall circuits Some cities clearly continued to be un-walled in the late Roman period. Can this really be seen as a conscious decision in favour of continuity among the urban population? It could be argued that the population of those cities such as Ammaedara, Thuburbo, or Sufetula simply did not have the finances to construct new fortifications. However the fact that both Thamugadi and Cuicul had previously existing wall circuits rendered un-useable by the populace, the former in the early third century and the latter in the fourth century, suggests that other populaces in North African cities did not believe that wall circuits were a relevant component of the North African monumental vocabulary. This demonstrates an element of continuity of urban ideology and practice into the fourth century.

The marked reduction in the numbers of temples constructed or reconstructed after the reign of Diocletian has been discussed at length. Given the gradual Christianisation of Roman society and the laws against pagan cult practice this should not be surprising. This quantitative decline in documented temple building cannot be viewed as an isolated phenomenon when considering the concepts of ‘decline’ and continuity. Temples can be seen as more generally ‘religious’ structures and in that context placed alongside the churches that became one of the archetypal constructions for the late fourth century city. When this is done a new trend becomes evident, namely the growth in the construction of religious edifices in the period. Of course this is not because of a growth in religious devotion leading to the expansion in building, Christian communities were starting from a very low level of building and were driven, for both practical and ideological reasons, to create many churches in a relatively short space of time. There was a change in the divine entity that was being honoured but the new construction was still the result of a profound religious experience and as such there is a sense of one belief system supplanting and/or absorbing another in the late fourth century urban landscape.

While bearing in mind the concept of continuity, the lack of wall-circuits for many North African cities is still a striking omission from the monumental vocabulary of the region. Walls were not uniformly the most important image to be included in the pictorial representation of a city, indeed they could be missed out, but in many depictions a set of walls are all that is shown of a city. Such illustrations can be seen in documents including the Madaba map or the Peutinger Table.4 In such circumstances the walls can be seen to be the embodiment of what made a city a city. So then although ‘positive conservatism’ may explain the reluctance of the North African elite to construct city defences the conservative label should not mask the inherently radical departure from the Roman ‘norm’ that the decision not to build walls entailed. Religion and the North African cities The preceding chapters have demonstrated that, in general, the form of the ancient city was continuing in terms of the maintenance of the building tradition and in the apparent continued appreciation of the glory to be gained from erecting monuments. Concomitantly the religious framework of North Africa manifests profound developments. In terms of the continuity and change of the African cityscape during the period there were major alterations in the way in which religion related to the built environment with regard to both the construction and demolition of

There were developments in the way that religious structures were paid for in late Roman North Africa. The shift to funding the festivals and houses of the Christian God from those of the pagan deities indicates the importance of conversion and the underlying change in society’s bonds with religion. Clearly the North African elite had always contributed funds to pay for the construction of religious structures either as individuals or as members of the councils that governed the cities.5 In some cases there was now a shift to paying for the erection of Christian places of worship and, despite the fact that glory and self-aggrandisement were not supposed to be part of Christian giving, the benefactor would still have gained honour and glory from doing so. The Christian elite’s provision of funds would give them the sort of status that the erection of a

4

5

Bertelli 1999, 127-146.

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Cf. Chapters 4 and 5.

Temple to Caelestis had done. After all, temple construction was about honouring the gods but the euergete still placed their name on the entablature and gained fame for doing so. As glory came from making their contribution known, its acquisition would have been more sure in those cases where individuals or groups of individuals could pay for a whole church, or an identifiable mosaic.6 As this was the case the advent of Christianity did change things. Despite the documented expenditure of the wealthy on benefactions to the Christian community, on many occasions the gifts of elite Christians would have been subsumed into the general money of the Church, which was derived from donations, legacies and Church lands.7 Whole communities, directed by bishops, were now also involved in this process.8

Christian present there had been changes and such transformations would have been psychologically important for the rest of the community too. Whole congregations could now feel pride at their own contribution as churches were built. As structures such as the Damous elKarita competed for space with the monuments of the past so the populace could view the fruits of their own devotions Christianising their urban environment. In this sphere of building the actions of a community were now more important than the actions of an individual or family. Moving onto the religious topography of the North African cities, there were several different ways in which the pagan past linked into the Christian present. New churches were placed into all of the locations where temples had been established. The forum, the general urban area and even the suburbium (where many temples of Saturn had been located) all had Christian basilicas constructed in them. Even the use of the basilica for Christian buildings demonstrates continuity in building tradition albeit in a new milieu. If temples were being converted at the turn of the fifth century then the resulting Christian structures are likely to have retained some aspect of the shrine’s monumental importance, even if there was a new emphasis placed upon these buildings. If the temple conversions in the case studies are much later then continuity in urban form may have been less important. An extended gap between the temple being used and its re-consecration may have caused a rupture in traditions relating to the structure. Indeed the main argument as to why there was a long gap between temple closure and conversion relies on such a caesura being crucial to the Christian dedicants. The use of baths by the Christian elite for both ritual and leisure purposes also displays a continuity of purpose in both practical, and even ideological considerations, with the classical period, even though it was in a new religious framework. There was also, of course, some level of stability between the Christian processions and the pagan religious festivals of the past in terms of their structure if not their content or religious meaning.

On an ideological level the provision of buildings was now a much more egalitarian affair than it had been in pagan religion. This is not to say that in day-to-day life it was not obvious which members of the community were actually providing the majority of the funds for church building or alms to the poor, it is just often difficult to reconstruct. The experiences of Melania and Pinianus can be used to demonstrate the fame that could become attached to those who made donations to Christian communities. The couple sold their property in Africa, Numidia and Mauretania using the proceeds for the poor, ransoming captives, adorning churches and endowing monasteries with buildings and lands.9 Their largesse led to the determination of the congregation of Hippo to keep hold of such generous benefactors through the forced ordination of Pinianus, such compulsion is also evinced in Ambrose’s ascension to the bishop’s chair.10 Even if it were not the intention, or at least the stated intention, of the individuals involved to become famous through their gifts public offerings would still have had that effect. Rich Christians could and did break out of the confines of Church communality through the provision of inscriptions or in some cases the hagiographical tradition but that does not mean that they always did and most North African churches do not record that they were donated by specific individuals.

The built environment did have an effect on the way in which the population moved around the city, both in general terms and on the feast days of the saints. These Christian festivals demonstrated some continuity as they replaced and took over the pageantry and social cohesion provided pagan processional ritual. The works of Augustine also demonstrate that pagan processions continued into the late fourth century

Still, even with continuity of the same types of personnel expending their wealth on the 6

For instance see the ecclesiastical complex at Cuicul. Geront. V. Mel. 21. Melania and Pinianus paid for the adornment of Alypius’ church at Thagaste. 7 Geront. V. Mel. 20. 8 For Optatus directing construction at the Donatist Cathedral of Thamugadi see p. 37. 9 Geront. V. Mel. 20-22. 10 August. Ep. 125 and 126

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to the lack of demonstrable ‘heretical’ or ‘schismatic’ archaeology (see pages 34-7) the exact changes that the cities’ topographies underwent because of this are very difficult to observe.

creating a situation where competing pagan and Christian festivals could exist cheek by jowl in the cities of North Africa. In the same period there was a change in the way that the cemeteries related to the city and its populace with the burial zones becoming incorporated more fully into North Africans’ sacred experience. In Carthage or Tipasa, for example, the most important Christian structures were located in these areas and the key Christian celebrations took place in them. Again this demonstrates a shift in perception of the dead, brought about by the adoption of a different set of values, and heralds the beginning of a developmental process that eventually led to the burial of bodies within the urban area and the final, irrevocable breakdown in the barrier between the living and the dead. The consequence of this was that the classical ideal vanished but this cannot be viewed subjectively as an unwelcome transformation. Indeed in the adoption of the Holy Dead as standard bearers of the Faith, spirituality and purity the population of the town could be understood as gaining another group of ‘powers’ that could aid them in this world. A new spiritual resource no doubt had positive psychological effects for the general population as it would have provided them with another defence against the uncontrollable aspects of life that, in the premodern age, intruded in so many ways. Indeed the development of the concept of the Holy Dead and the associated building of vast basilical complexes could be viewed as a positive development in the lives of many of the North African population.

There were also major transformations in religious leadership. On one level this is obvious, the Christian bishop replaced the pagan priest, but the change is subtler than that. The Church was controlled and led by a new religious hierarchy; to some extent there was now a greater divorce between the ‘secular’ elite of the cities and the bishops who ruled the Church than there had been between pagan priests and the municipal elite. The pagan priesthood in most of the Roman Empire was effectively just a wing of the municipal tradition whereas the Church, and in North Africa the Donatist Church in particular, was much less controllable by the Imperial administration. On some level the differentiation between a secular elite and an ecclesiastical elite was little more than a veneer as, while few bishops were of the status of Ambrose of Milan, there were many men from the provincial aristocracy who became bishops through choice or enforced ordination. Even Augustine, who states that his family was not particularly wealthy in comparison with others of the decurion class, was very definitely of the provincial elite.11 This may have been the case but the continued refusal of the Donatist clerics to obey Imperial authority demonstrates that the hierarchy of the Church with their sacred position could afford to ignore the emperors in a way that a pagan priest could not and it is clear that many, if not most, priests and even bishops were not from the nobility.

As has been emphasised in Chapters 4 and 5 the development of building out in the cemeteries and a concomitant change in the perception of these areas ‘inhabited’ by the dead was also a major shift from what had gone before. So although churches were not different in their construction from that of a judicial basilica there were important ideological differences in the way that they related to the city. There is no continuity here.

Even beyond this traditional Church hierarchy and the traditional elite, the power wielded by the ‘Captains of the Saints’ can be seen to be outside the traditional loci of power within Roman society.12 Although the Donatist leadership were clearly keen to channel the aggressive power of the Circumcellions for their own ends. In some ways the power of the Circumcellions can be set alongside that exerted by lowborn men and women in the East who became ascetics. Spiritual power and influence could be gained and wielded through a process of material and physical degradation. Poverty or an ‘alternative’ lifestyle could create and legitimise power. The fourth century and the growth of Christianity created new power structures within urban society, and provincial life more generally, that could incorporate elements of the pre-Christian

The North African cityscape was also undoubtedly altered by the presence of a strong ‘heretical’ body (as Augustine and Optatus would have had it) within the greater Church. The competitive instincts of the RomanoChristian elite would no doubt have been honed in the vituperative atmosphere of North African ecclesiastical politics. This competition was transmogrified, during the Christian era, into the creation of buildings that rivalled those constructed by other communities. The urban landscape would have been affected by the politics within the Church but unfortunately due

11

August. Conf. II.3.5. Augustine’s father Patricius was unable to pay for Augustine’s Carthaginian education without the help of Romanianus, Thagaste’s protector. 12 See Chapter 2.

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elite but could also draw upon other reserves of power and influence.

quantitative or qualitative decline from an earlier standard.

The religious changes in North Africa and the concomitant developments in the built environment would have had a profound psychological effect on the population of the cities of North Africa as was discussed in chapter five. Again it is profoundly un-useful to view this in terms of decline, it is simply a symptom of a religious change. Psychological changes in the populace of the cities were simply a development or transformation due to internal changes in terms of individual’s faith and externally due to other people’s faith and the developments within the built environment.

The way to view the development of the city in North Africa, in the third, fourth and early fifth centuries, is to see a process of several intertwined transformations some of which relate to the change in religious allegiance by many North Africans but also others which do not. In many respects this book stresses continuity from the second and early third centuries but this should not be allowed to cloud the importance of the religious movement in favour of Christianity in this era. It is impossible to overlook the fact that there had been a tectonic shift in the areas of expenditure that money was spent on and the change in religious adherence. As has been discussed above the concept of decline does not really apply here and should not be used to differentiate those processes taking place in the late Empire to those occurring in the early Empire.

So, the people who were contributing to the construction of the buildings and the development of the new religious physical vocabulary were not always precisely the same individuals that had constructed temples. Different people were involved in constructing the churches, a different structure type had been appropriated for use by the Christian community than had been used in pagan religious architecture and the entire pagan community had not become Christianised. As could be expected there was not a simple transition from paganism to Christianity in terms of belief and community but in terms of the built environment there was; virtually all work on pagan temples had ceased by the time the Christian basilicas began to be constructed in the cities of North Africa. In the case studies only Thamugadi displays positive work on a temple after the 360s whereas the vast majority of the churches were built after this date.13

AFRICAN URBANISM IN CONTEXT So, transformation of religious faith and its material culture and continuity in terms of the general built environment and economic health seems to be the general pattern for North African cities in the fourth and the early fifth centuries. It is important to place North Africa back into its wider Mediterranean context in order to demonstrate the links between the North African evidence and the towns of the Empire in general. It is very clear that the cities of North Africa do not easily fit the pattern produced by the cities of Gaul, Germany and Britain and in many respects there is a better synergy between the processes occurring in the provinces of the Eastern Mediterranean and Africa. However, there were differences and similarities between North Africa and all other regions in the late Roman period and it is important to show how the continuity and transformation of the North African towns, between the late third and early fifth centuries, relates to those processes set out in Chapter 3 for the changes in the rest of the Western Empire and in the East.

As was discussed at the start of this chapter, in terms of a Gibbonian concept of decline and fall, the changes in the late Roman city were a collapse of pagan classical ideals as Christianity had a deleterious effect on the character of the Roman Empire, undermining its ideologies and political structures. These are not now seen as some sort of collapse in standards, they are not a symptom of decline but rather a shift in religious loyalties and, in consequence, in building tradition. Vast sums were, after all, being ploughed into the churches and their elaborate nature and massive size compared favourably with the temples, basilicas and sometimes even theatres of an earlier era. A change in religious faith and the linked change in religious structure are a transformation of conscious and unconscious belief rather than any sort of

13

As Chapters 3, 4 and 5 demonstrated there were substantial differences in the continuity of occupation of the urban area between much of Western Europe, the East and North Africa in the fourth and fifth century. Most North African cities clearly demonstrate expanding (or at least not shrinking) urban areas in this period with new houses and monumental structures being constructed. The Western European provinces, with the exception of Italy, had cities that were

See Thamugadi case study, Chapter 5 and Tables 7-10.

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apparently contracting even if they might not be experiencing the total collapse in population that the reduced wall-circuits might suggest. As a result, the expansion of the urban area at many North African sites throughout the third century and later, and the continued construction of housing in cities throughout the fourth century, does not match with what was occurring elsewhere in the West.14 At the same time cities in the East were maintaining both the classical urban tradition and those factors that made urban life possible and desirable to more than the administrators, nobles, ecclesiastics and the small population of service sector personnel that characterised the cities of parts of the West. These differences may, in part, have been due to the lack of serious and prolonged invasions in Latin North Africa, Asia and the African East on the scale of those from which the West suffered in the third and early fifth centuries. Although the provinces of North Africa suffered from limited Libyan tribal attacks on peripheral areas and the Vandalic invasions, these occurred within a very limited time scale with a minimal amount of warfare and with an apparent lack of large-scale slaughter and destruction. Much of the West and the European regions of the East had suffered from repeated waves of often mutually antagonistic invaders and usurpers. The third century depredations in Gaul were recovered from but urban physical structure at least seems to have been altered substantially after this date. In the East and North Africa these triggers to change had not occurred and so the fourth and fifth century cities survived in a more recognisably ‘classical’ form.

relationship between the aristocrat and urban life.15 The laws of the Theodosian Code, that deal with the avoidance of curial duties, demonstrate that North Africa was not immune from this problem but the actual practice of urban improvement suggests that the problem was not as severe as elsewhere.16 The cities, or more correctly the citizens of North Africa, were apparently retaining a presumption in favour of a strong urban life at a time when this was fading in other regions of the West. So while there was certainly a decline from the heights of classical euergetism everywhere within the Empire by the fourth century, this is not as dramatic in North Africa as in most of the West. The persistence of the city in some areas of the Empire may also have been aided by the presence of an urban environment many hundreds of years older than was the case for large areas of the West. The Carthaginian civilisation and those of the pre-Roman Eastern Mediterranean had perhaps produced a situation where there was, for the elites and the lower classes of these areas, no alternative to an urban civilisation. Areas such as Britain and Toxandria may not have been able to support an urban civilisation once Rome had disengaged from them and other provinces in the West suffered from a decline in urban vitality because there were other schemata, from the relatively recent past, that could be retreated to once urban life became difficult to maintain for whatever reason. It is important to note that in most of Gaul, if not in Britain and Germany, there was a presumption among men such as Sidonius Apollinaris in favour of the urban framework which no doubt helped it to survive when the peasantry no longer felt the economic need to migrate to the towns. The persistence of the city in North Africa and the East at this period at a level above that of the Western European urban framework may have been that there was a presumption in favour of the city from groups other than the elite and that there was enough economic incentive for this to be the case. This economic incentive may, in part, have come from the maintenance of longdistance trade routes within the Mediterranean basin. This would be the case because towns were naturally the centres of distribution and collection for imports and exports respectively. These Mediterranean networks continued long past the fall of the Western Empire and were generating the requisite wealth within towns that encouraged the maintenance of their population

The continued improvement or modification of many of the houses of the rich also suggests a substantial continuity of purpose, wealth and the ability to locate the specialists necessary to undertake such activities into the early fifth century and beyond. At a time when many cities in the north and centre of Gaul and Germany demonstrate substantial abandonment and lack of upkeep this is a noticeable indicator that there was a different process underway in the cities of the East and North Africa. The continued commitment to their townhouses, the building and repair of monuments (and their commemoration) and documents such as the municipal album of Thamugadi demonstrate the continued willingness of many decurions and senators to devote time and money to the city. In a period when the avoidance of public duty was apparently becoming commonplace throughout the Empire this is a very noticeable adherence to more traditional ideals concerning the 14

15 According, at least, to the traditional reading of the laws of the Theodosian Code that deal with the avoidance of curial duties. See above pages 20 and 25. 16 CTh., XII.7, 9, 15, 21, 24, 26-27, 29, 41, 44-6 and 64 are all on North Africa.

See Chapters 3, 4 and 5.

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In terms of the Christianisation of the city there are strong parallels throughout the Empire in the way that cities gained churches and where they were placed but there are also clear differences between the three regions. By the end of the fourth century, many of the cities of North Africa were heavily Christianised both in terms of their built environment but also, going by the sources, in terms of their population. The literature of the period, if not the archaeological record, demonstrates that there were churches in the cities of North Africa from soon after 314 if not before. For instance at Carthage the basilica mentioned in the Sermon on the Passion of Saints Donatus and Advocatus is dated to before 317321 while at Cirta-Constantine one of the pair of basilicas mentioned in Constantine’s letter belongs to pre-330 and another is to be built after this date.17 The basilica at Cirta was only built after Maxentius’ defeat in 312 and may have been related to the renaming of the city in Constantine’s honour. Many of the Eastern cities also had large Christian populations in the fourth century and had a correspondingly Christianised urban environment. This was not the case for most of the West.18 Most Gallic or British cities do not show any real level of Christianisation until long after the cities of North Africa if ever in the case of Britain. The majority of the churches at Tours for instance, although there was an episcopal group in the city by the end of the fourth century, were not constructed until the mid-fifth or the sixth centuries.19 Arles, an imperial city, also demonstrates Christianisation only really taking place from the fifth century and at slower pace than many African cities.20 These cities are typical of the rate of development of Christianity within the built environment in the West. The rate of Christianisation in North Africa is comparable to that of many regions of the East but appears to have run deeper than any other region of the West except for perhaps in Italy and major cities in Spain and Southern Gaul. The cities of North Africa certainly demonstrate more intra muros basilicas than most other cities of the West from an earlier date than in many places except for Rome.

by continued immigration from the countryside and prevented migration from the towns by its resident population. There was clearly a quantitative decline in the number of inscriptions dedicating buildings, repairs or statues throughout the Mediterranean basin and beyond but while there were very few inscriptions in Western Europe from the third century onwards, and there was an almost total collapse in the erection of inscriptions in the East after the reign of Diocletian (although there were of course exceptions to that rule), this is not the case for the North African provinces. Lepelley and the case studies have amply demonstrated that many cities have at least a scattering of commemorated benefactions during the fourth and early fifth centuries. Given the other processes documented above it is harder to explain the differences between the East and North Africa than that between North Africa and the West as, unlike the European provinces, the East was generally stable in the fourth and fifth centuries and did not have the impetus to change that the West did. Perhaps the difference is best explained by a deliberate, positive ‘conservatism’ in the North African provinces keeping part of the ideology of the earlier Empire in continuing to erect inscriptions. Elsewhere in North Africa and the East archaeological work has demonstrated that other un-commemorated works were undertaken on the public monuments; this clearly did not occur in many of the cities in Gaul, Italy and other northern regions apart from the building of churches and the spate of wall construction during the third and fourth centuries. The use of wall circuits in North Africa also differentiates the province from the West in general. With virtually all of the cities of the West having walls after the late third century the lack of walls at several sites in the case studies is very noticeable. The reasons for this have been discussed at length elsewhere in this book; here it is enough to note this difference in attitude and physical expression of ideology and insecurity. North Africa seems to demonstrate a greater incorporation of the classical tradition, rather than outright destruction, than most of the rest of the West because of the greater Christianisation of society and the presence of two strong churches leading to more construction and a need to absorb the earlier tradition. Positive decisions in favour of tradition and an ability to maintain the past in North Africa probably reflects greater wealth and stability in the province than in Gaul and Germany throughout the later fourth and first quarter of the fifth century.

The main differences in this rate can perhaps be attributed to two factors. First, the larger Christian population in the study area than most other areas of the West would have led to an 17

Sermo de passione sanctorum Donati et Advocati, 8. Optatus, App. 10. Krautheimer provides a useful catalogue of the construction of churches. It appears that the majority of churches in the early to mid fourth century at least were state sponsored. Krautheimer 1980, 33; Curran 2000, 93-114. 19 Pietri 1983, 351-420. 20 Loseby 1996, 58-61. 18

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acceleration of a process that eventually led to many basilicas being placed within the urban framework of early medieval European cities. Second, the presence of Donatism throughout the fourth and into the early fifth centuries probably led to an increased rate of multiplication of structures in comparison to the rest of the Empire.21 Although other regions had their splits and arguments, notably between the Arians and Catholics in the East and Italy, there were not really separate, organised province or regionwide churches until the later fifth century and the Chalcedonian/Monophysite split in the East.

within North African society, even as the religious landscape was transformed. Despite the differences in the rates of Christianisation of the populace and the urban landscape the process, whether in Gerasa, Tipasa or Tarraco, did progress in the same direction. Churches were constructed within the urban area and in the cemeteries. Monasteries were sometimes inserted into an urban milieu and episcopal groups were placed into those cities that had a bishop. The latter structures were often placed within the centre of the town but this ideal of the classical city with its focus upon the monumental centre should not always be viewed as the ideal of the Christian community. Sometimes the most important Christian churches could be located away from the former monumental centre. Furthermore the importance of the cemetery churches and the new focus upon the cemeteries was common to all areas of the Roman Empire so the differences between cities in various areas should not be overemphasised.

In terms of temple destruction and desecration there is evidence from throughout the Empire that this was occurring from the early fourth century onwards. There remains the possibility that there was a general trend to temple conversion, rather than destruction and replacement, from an earlier stage in North Africa than in the East, albeit that this is with the rather large proviso that the stylistic dating of temple transformations is correct. It is clear that with the Temple of Aphrodite at Jerusalem, the Temple of Baal at Baalbek, the Marneion at Gerasa and St Martin’s activity in the Touraine there was destruction and reuse of material in the fourth century but this hardly constitutes real conversion and in any case the examples are hardly numerous.22 The actual buildings do not appear to have been regularly reused outside North Africa until the later fifth, sixth and seventh centuries.23 Alexandria may be one of the few exceptions to this and it is notable that there was strong competition between Athanasius and his party and Imperial, Arian appointees or Melitians in the fourth century.24 Still, even there, it is noticeable that the deconsecration of the Serapeum did not lead to the construction of a Church using the standing remains of its temples and it may not even have been erected within its colonnaded court but nearby.25 In North Africa the examples quoted of a late fourth/early fifth century date are from across the region. Apart from the competition between the two sects that meant that more spaces were needed for churches that could not be found in the region’s thriving cities, the fundamentalist Donatist anti-pagan rhetoric could conceivably have played a part in this conversion process.26 There may even have been a desire to maintain the historical architectural legacy, again linked to conservatism

So the main point of similarity across the Empire was the adoption of Christianity, although even in this process the speed at which Christianisation progressed changes markedly across the two regions. Beyond religious developments much of the West and North Africa seem to have had little in common in terms of the persistence of city type in the later Roman Empire. The existence of many aspects of the city form, the euergetistic principal and even public activities such as the games seem to have been substantially curtailed in the West at a period when North Africa demonstrates continuity of occupation and life within its cities. Generally most of the East seems to be heading along a comparable path to North Africa in the late third, fourth and early fifth centuries. At the same time it is important to note that there were differences between the two regions in facets of urban life such as the continuance of the epigraphic tradition, the number of churches inserted into the urban area and the date of the transformation of pagan religious edifices for Christian use. URBAN TOPOGRAPHY IN NORTH AFRICA AND THE WIDER DEBATE Apart from the work on individual cities the examination of the development of the North African cityscape obviously feeds back into the general debate on the transformation of the classical city in the late Roman period. Clearly there are substantial differences in the way that individual North African cities, groups of cities

21

As discussed in Section 5.8.2 and 5.9.1. Caillet 1996, 191-211. Ward-Perkins, B. 1999, 233-235. Caillet 1996, 196. Sulpicius Severus, Vita Sancti Martini, XIII-XV. 23 Cf. pages 17-21. 24 Cf. pages 106. 25 McKenzie et al. 2004, 108-110. 26 Cf. pages 10-11. 22

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and later between Chalcedonians and Monophysites. In some ways then this book begins to approach a hierarchy of considerations that a Christian community might take into account when considering whether or not to take over the site of, or with more religious difficulties convert, a temple. While it is obvious that any problems in terms of religious conscience were clearly debated, it is impossible to see these discussions and arguments for and against conversion taking place.

and provinces performed in the period under consideration compared to apparently analogous cities in the East and European provinces. Concepts and difficulties that have been explored here will be of relevance to any discussion of examination of the development of late Roman cities. The examination of these specific cities demonstrates the relationship of classical ideals to the Christianisation of the city in the late Roman period. It demonstrates that in North Africa, although there were powerful dynamics creating change in the urban landscape, there was still a desire on the part of at least some parts of the elite to maintain elements of the classical city. The exploration of the case studies has also demonstrated which types of buildings the aristocracy of North Africa preferred to maintain into the second half of the fourth century and beyond; namely baths and basilicas. In terms of ideology this book has also demonstrated that although there were conflicts between philosophies in North Africa, namely between Christian and pagan, between Catholic and Donatist, and between puritan and permissive, these were resolved or concealed in the built landscape. In practise this meant that while North Africa was heavily Christianised, bath facilities were still constructed and maintained despite the growing dislike, at least among some of the Christian hierarchy, of the public nudity that participation in bath culture entailed. Clearly North Africa demonstrates that by the beginning of the fifth century, in many cities, the dialogue between pro and anti-bathing individuals was still being resolved in favour of the establishments. This may then be used in comparisons, in future, with processes occurring in individual cities within North Africa or elsewhere as well as the situation within individual provinces or regions.

The concept of ‘positive conservatism’ can certainly be examined with regard to certain cities in the East, such as Aphrodisias, where there is evidence that elements of the city were maintained into the late Roman period. Conservatism was, as has been stated, a deliberate choice to maintain the traditional ways of doing things and in Eastern cities it also seems to be an important factor in the continued maintenance of the cityscape. Examining why, in the face of so much change elsewhere in the Empire, the cities of some areas of the East continued to demonstrate the maintenance of the urban tradition, and whether this was for the same reasons as those of North Africa would be a useful area of research. ENVOI There were major differences between the three regions of the Empire in terms of the transformations that took place during the fourth and early fifth centuries. It is clear that the East and North Africa have much in common in terms of the persistence of the urban tradition and the speed of Christianisation, although there were specific differences between the two regions and many cities in both areas did not conform to the general pattern. It is obvious that the processes underway in the cities of North Africa and the East did not have much in common with the majority of those in the West beyond the gradual Christianisation of the urban landscape, although the East and North Africa seem to have been more thoroughly Christianised leading to substantially more churches being built. So the Christianisation of the cities of North Africa mirrors processes that were ongoing throughout the Empire in the fourth, fifth and sixth centuries; here it was simply more dynamic at an earlier date than in other regions of the West. North Africa, while following the general trend of the Empire in this regard, also had its own character that substantially affected the development of an urban Christian topography so while there is a general fit with the Eastern pattern in this sphere of investigation there are substantial temporal

The conflict between ideologies, as expressed in the rhetoric of the Catholic literature, and its resolution in the built landscape has also been examined with regard to the construction of North African churches and in particular the transformation of temples into Christian sacred space. The examination of this problem has demonstrated that where there are two powerful Christian sects there may be factors concerned with competition, glorification and even practical considerations, such as the difficulties of locating available space, that override any theological considerations regarding the ritual pollution surrounding temples. This then may impact upon the study of cities, particularly in the East but also in Italy, that had long-term schisms between Catholics and Arians, Catholics and Melitians

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and ideological differences that had an effect on the development of this process. Undoubtedly the different developmental trajectories of the North African cities and those of the rest of the Empire, in the late Roman period, were driven by two factors; the conservatism, in some respects, of the North African aristocracy and the strength of the two main churches in the process of Christianisation. The presence of Donatism may have affected the actual configuration of the Christian topography in North Africa if their anti-pagan, anti-world, rhetoric had impacted upon their decisions as to where to site their basilicas. This, as has been demonstrated, could be said to have an affect on the positioning of the ‘Donatist’ Cathedral at Thamugadi or the main basilica at Theveste but, in the main, the actual concrete impact of the rigorist Church can only be speculated upon beyond its contribution to the sense of competition detailed above. In general it can be said that many of the North African cities were still thriving, constructing or repairing Christian, secular or pagan buildings into the fifth century demonstrating continuity, albeit within a new Christian framework, into the late Roman period. In the end the picture painted by Victor of Vita of the African landscape at the time of the Vandal invasion may have been correct, despite his anti-Vandal polemical stance: ‘Then, discovering a province that was at peace and quiet, they hung over the whole beautiful and flowering land and on all sides, with their impious army, they devastated and laid it waste, destroying everything with fire and murders’.27 Victor’s picture of the Vandal invasion may have been unnecessarily bleak but the impression of the late Roman African provinces seems to be accurate.

27 Victor Vitensis, Historia persecutionis Africanae Provinciae, I.3. ‘Inuenientes igitur pacatam quietamque prouinciam, speciositatem totius terrae florentis quaquauersum impietatis agminibus impendebant, deuastando depopulabantur, incendio atque homicidiis totum exterminantes’. My trans.

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ABBREVIATIONS

John of Nikiu, Chronicle = Chron.

Ancient Sources Ambrose Epistulae = Ep.

Lactantius = Lactant. De mortibus persecutorum = de mort. pers.

Anth. Lat. = Anthologia Latina

Libanius = Lib. Orationes – Or.

Augustine of Hippo = August. Confessiones = Conf. De Civitate Dei = De civ. d. Contra Cresconium grammaticum et donatistam = c. Cresc. Contra epistulum Parmeniani libri tres = c. ep. Parm. Contra Gaudentium = c. Gaud. Contra litteras Petiliani libri tres = c.litt. Pet. Contra Faustam manichaeum = c. Faust. De Doctrina Christiana = doctr. Chr. Ennarratio in Psalmum = Enarratio in Ps. De consensu evangelistarum = cons. Evan. Epistulae = Ep. Tractatus in evangelium Iohannis = Io. v. tr. De haeresibus = haer. Sermo = Serm.

Macrobius = Macrob. Saturnalia = Sat. Optatus De Schismate Donatistarum = Optatus Orosius = Oros. Historia adversus paganos = adv. pag. Panegyricus = Pan. Possidius = Poss. Vita Augustini = V. Aug.

Aurelius Victor = Aur. Vict. Liber de Caesaribus = Caes.

Procopius = Procop. De Aedificis = Aed. Bellum Gothicum = Goth. Bellum Vandalicum = Vand.

Ausonius Ordo nobilium Urbium = Ordo no. urb.

Salvian De Gubernatione Dei = Gub. Dei.

Codex Theodosianus = CTh.

Scriptores Historiae Augustae = SHA De Vita Hadriani = Hadr. Marcus Antoninus Philosophus = Marc. Alexander Severus = Alex. Sev. Tres Gordiani = Gord. Tyranni Triginta = Tyr. trig.

Epitome de Caesaribus = Epit. de Caes. Eunapius = Eunap. Vitae sophistarum = VS Eusebius = Euseb. Historia Ecclesiastica. = HE. Vita Constantini = Vit. Const.

Socrates Scholasticus Historia Ecclesiastica. = HE. Sozomen = Sozom. Historia Ecclesiastica. = HE.

Gerontius = Geront. Vita Melania = V. Mel.

Tertullian = Tert. Apologia = Apol. Ad nationes = Ad nat. De Spectaculis = De Spect.

Gesta Collationis Carthago = Gesta Coll. Carth. Gregory the Great Epistulae = Ep.

Theodoret Historia Ecclesiastica. = HE.

Jerome Chronica = Chron. Vita Sancti Hilarionis = Vita S. Hil. Epistulae = Ep.

Valerius Maximus = Val. Max. Zosimus = Zos.

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Books, Journals and Corpuses I.L. Afr. – Inscriptions latines de l’Afrique AB – Analecta Bollandiana I.L. Alg. – Inscriptions latines de l’Algerie A.E. – L’Année Epigraphique I.L. Tun.– Inscriptions latines de la Tunisie AJA – American Journal of Archaeology IRT – Inscriptions of Roman Tripolitania AJP – American Journal of Philology JEH – Journal of Ecclesiastical History ANRW – Aufstieg und Niedergang der römischen Welt

JRA – Journal of Roman Archaeology

AnTard – Antiquité Tardive

JRS – Journal of Roman Studies

BAR – British Archaeological Reports

JThS – Journal of Theological Studies

BCTH – Bulletin archéologique du Comité des Travaux Historiques et Scientifiques

LS – Libyan Studies MEFR - Mélanges de l'École Française de Rome

CCSL – Corpus Christianorum Series Latina

MEFRA – Mélanges de l'École Française de Rome: antiquité

CIL – Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum CRAI – Comptes rendus de l’Académie des Inscriptions et Belles-Lettres

PG – Patrologia Graeca PL – Patrologia Latina

CSEL – Corpus Scriptorum Ecclesiasticorum Latinorum

RA – Revue Africaine

DOP – Dumbarton Oaks Papers

REA – Revue des études anciennes

HTR – Harvard Theological Review

TRAC – Theoretical Roman Archaeology Conference

I.L.C.V. – Inscriptiones Latinae Christianae Veteres

Z.P.E. – Zeitschrift für Papyrologie und Epigraphik

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