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Flavian feathers: expressing dynasty and divinity through peacocks

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Veröffentlicht/Copyright: 15. Januar 2025
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Abstract

In 82/3 CE the peacock was introduced on Roman imperial coins. It appeared on the reverse of precious-metal coins struck for Domitia Longina, and reappeared in 88/9 for the same empress and for Julia Titi. This article contextualizes these coins in both the iconographic tradition and the contemporary politics of Domitian’s Rome. It shows that the appearance of the peacock served a twofold purpose: on the one hand, it was part of a programmatic depiction of the imperial couple as Jupiter and Juno; on the other hand, it belonged to a new way of visualizing the divine triad worshipped in the Capitolium as restored by Domitian. The article illustrates how the peacock was embedded in a concerted program that simultaneously highlighted the Flavian dynasty, the apotheosis of its deceased members (both men and women), the divine association of those alive, and the dynasty’s care for the cityscape. In doing so, the coins stood at the beginning of an imperial tradition in which all of these elements became part of imperial (self-)display.

In 82/3 (Fig. 1) and 88/9 CE (Fig. 2) the Roman mint issued aurei that depicted on the obverse the busts of Titus’ daughter, Julia (also known and henceforth referred to as Julia Titi), and Domitian’s wife, Domitia Longina, respectively, with a peacock on the reverses of both coins. Despite being the first Roman coins to depict a peacock, the sacred animal of the goddess Juno, these aurei have only appeared as a side note in scholarly literature, usually to support a conclusion that offers a better or more complete understanding of Domitian’s reign as a whole.[1] They have not yet been examined in their own right. In this contribution, instead of using these coins as an instrumental footnote to an overarching narrative, as has been the case so far, we will put these coins at the center of our analysis by taking into account the iconographic precedents and parallels of the coins, as well as their contemporary context, all of which add to our understanding of these aurei. In what follows, we assess the novelty of the peacock coins in their respective historical, numismatic and iconographic contexts. To that end, before we can turn to the analysis of the coinage of 82/3 and 88/9, we discuss the imperial practice of associating women with the divine during the preceding decennia and, secondly, map the iconographic tradition of the peacock on the Italian peninsula (and beyond). We argue that iconographic precedents and historical context both paved the way for the inclusion of the peacock on the coinage of Domitia Longina and need to be taken into account in order to evaluate to what extent the inclusion of the peacock in the official visual language of the Flavians was self-explanatory. To put it briefly, would the coins’ audiences have understood the message(s) the imagery evoked? After all, a peacock had never appeared on imperial coins, as we will demonstrate. Could a numismatic program be successful if it was too novel, or were there enough anchor points for the coins’ target audiences to make sense of the visual language?

Fig. 1 
        Peacock aureus of 82/3 with Domitia Longina on the obverse (RIC II.1 Domitian 150). Source: American Numismatic Society, 1967.153.132.
Fig. 1

Peacock aureus of 82/3 with Domitia Longina on the obverse (RIC II.1 Domitian 150). Source: American Numismatic Society, 1967.153.132.

Several questions will help us determine this:

  1. To what extent did the Domitianic coins follow or differ from the visual language established in the past Julio-Claudian decades to represent imperial women?

  2. How do the peacock coins relate to other, past as well as contemporary, numismatic developments?

  3. Which ideological messages did the peacock coins – individually and as part of a series – evoke and how does this further our understanding of the role of Domitia Longina and Julia Titi in expressions of Flavian ideology?

Fig. 2 
        Left: Peacock aureus of 88/9 with Domitia Longina on the obverse (RIC II.1 Domitian 678, cf. nos. 679–681). Right: Peacock aureus of 88/9 with Julia Titi on the obverse (RIC II.1 Domitian 683, cf. no. 684). Source: Bibliothèque nationale de France.
Fig. 2

Left: Peacock aureus of 88/9 with Domitia Longina on the obverse (RIC II.1 Domitian 678, cf. nos. 679–681). Right: Peacock aureus of 88/9 with Julia Titi on the obverse (RIC II.1 Domitian 683, cf. no. 684). Source: Bibliothèque nationale de France.

It is worth pointing out from the outset that the main focus of this contribution is to shed light on processes of tradition and innovation during the Flavian dynasty. We aim to explain to what extent these peacock coins stood at the beginning of a tradition in which the peacock was explicitly linked to the realm of apotheosis. Although an even more holistic approach in which the iconography of the Flavian age is analyzed in detail vis-à-vis the ancient literature, some of which with a strong laudatory character that seems to play into the existing iconography, would help us understand the representation of the imperial family even further, such a detailed examination is beyond the scope of this contribution.

I Imperial women and divine association

By the time Domitia Longina’s first peacock coins appeared, the appearance of the emperor’s wives and female relatives on imperial coinage was a 45-year-old phenomenon. Caligula’s reign was a transformational period in the development of imperial women’s inclusion as key figures in imperial ideology and its dissemination through visual communication. In 37, the Roman mint introduced an important innovation when it produced the first coin type that depicted living women of the Domus Augusta and identifying them by name.[2] In doing so, Rome appropriated practices that were already common in the Greek provinces of the Roman Empire since the reigns of Augustus and Tiberius.[3]Sestertii and dupondii were issued with the portrait of the emperor on the obverse and three standing female figures on the reverse, carrying divine attributes (a cornucopia, patera and rudder), accompanied by the names AGRIPPINA, DRUSILLA and IULIA.[4] Through the coins’ visual design, Caligula’s sisters were assimilated to the abstract concepts of Security, Harmony and Good Fortune. This coin type was an important step towards the creation of the so-called ‘empress coin’, a coin type on which an imperial woman’s isolated profile – as was customary for the emperor – appears on the obverse.[5] The peacock coins of Domitia Longina and Julia Titi in 82/3 and 88/9 discussed in this contribution are such ‘empress coins’. One of the most common design strategies in this type of coinage is to pair the imperial woman’s portrait on the obverse with an image that clearly refers to a goddess or an imperial or personified virtue on the reverse. This suggests a close connection between the divine and the imperial woman in particular, and the entire Domus Augusta by extension.[6] By the time of Domitian’s reign, however, this was far from systematized.

Fig. 3 
          
            Aureus with Antonia Augusta wearing corn-ears on the obverse and Constantia Augusti on the reverse (RIC2I Claudius 65). Source: American Numismatic Society, 1956.184.19.
Fig. 3

Aureus with Antonia Augusta wearing corn-ears on the obverse and Constantia Augusti on the reverse (RIC2I Claudius 65). Source: American Numismatic Society, 1956.184.19.

Though both living and deceased imperial women began to appear, undisputedly identified by name, in imperial coinage from Caligula’s reign onwards, they were initially rarely paired with deities or abstractions. Instead, their portrait appeared on the reverse in combination with the isolated profile of the emperor on the obverse to emphasize family connections. Alternatively, they were visually connected to the religious sphere in general and the imperial cult in particular either through a depiction of the special funeral rites that were granted to them after their death or by representing them as Diva or as a flaminica.[7] There are two notable exceptions to this pattern. During Claudius’ reign, both his deceased mother Antonia and his wife, Agrippina Minor, appeared on coins: they wear Ceres’ crown of grain-ears and have their hair in a long plait behind.[8] Their portraits are almost identical. Yet, whereas Agrippina is paired with either the reigning emperor Claudius or her son Nero, thus following the general pattern set during Caligula’s reign, Antonia is paired with an image of Constantia Augusta on the reverse (Fig. 3). In doing so, as others have pointed out, Claudius’ reverence towards his mother and the care of the grain supply are emphasized.[9]

The most remarkable deviation from the pattern, however, appeared in the reign of Titus and already points towards a tendency to give a prominent place to the women of the Flavian dynasty in the visual communication in the capital. In 80/1, a series of denarii and dupondii appeared on which the isolated profile of the emperor’s daughter, Julia Titi, was paired with the figures of Salus Augusta, Venus Augusta, Vesta, Concordia Augusta, Pax Augusta and Ceres Augusta (RIC II.1 Titus 385–398). Julia herself did not carry divine attributes. On the types where she was pictured with her hair in a long plait, she also wore a diadem, an attribute that was already used in Julio-Claudian sculpture for different imperial women but had not been introduced in imperial coinage.[10] On the types where Julia adapted the new ‘Flavian’ hairstyle with the hair bundled high in front and knotted in back, the diadem was left out.[11] These series illustrate that one did not shy away to introduce new elements to what appeared to have been an established Julio-Claudian pattern. On the one hand, the coin designers introduced iconographic innovations such as the diadem, the hairstyle and the association between a living imperial woman and the realm of the divine, not in one individual coin type such as during the reigns of Caligula and Claudius, but in a series of six types that appeared simultaneously. On the other hand, by emphasizing imperial virtues and deities such as Concordia, Pax or Vesta, for the first time, an imperial woman was used to illustrate the well-being and continuity of the imperial dynasty and – by extension the Roman Empire – now and in the future. Although the repertoire of divinities was elaborate, the goddess Juno, whose peacock was used on Domitia Longina and Julia Titi’s empress coins, was not included in Titus’ coinage.

We have sketched the preceding history of what we call the Flavian peacock empress coins in detail in order to demonstrate that there were no direct parallels to these coins. In a numismatic context, evoking this direct association between an imperial woman and Juno on a central level was a novelty. At the same time, modern scholars have argued that associating the empress with Juno was an established ‘Roman imperial tradition’.[12] However, it is rarely explained what is meant by ‘tradition’, nor is it made explicit in which (visual or otherwise) media this tradition was rooted. This might seem nit-picking or asking for a clarification of something that is deemed obvious or common knowledge. Nevertheless, putting something under the umbrella of tradition without trying to clarify who is involved in creating it and in which historical contexts this tradition came about obscures the processes by which a tradition is established and maintained. To use the words of Osborne: “To ignore tradition, or indeed to mistake tradition for habitus or merely for a trend, is to write the individual responsible for the cultural product in question out of the story.”[13] Could we assume that when one or more precedents exist, a ‘tradition’ is established? And, how many precedents do we need, how many different agents need to be involved, and to what extent do these precedents need to occur cross-regionally to be able to talk about an established imperial tradition? This is worth pointing out as it forces us to reassess the character of the Flavians’ politics of representation. It forces us to address the decisions that were consciously made, the actors who made them, their awareness of the past, and the extent to which these decisions lasted in a world of change. It helps us to understand whether the different aspects in their politics of representation were traditional or innovative.

A first question that needs to be addressed with regard to the peacock coins, therefore, or any coins for that matter, is who was involved in creating these images. Unfortunately, there rarely is any evidence that helps us determine who played an active role in the choice of the imagery. Some scholars assume that the emperor was the main decision-maker; others take a more cautious approach and feel that the emperor would at the very least have been consulted on the imagery of coins before they were issued; still others think it more likely that mint workers were behind the design with the emperor as one of the audience members at whom the visual language was targeted.[14] So far there is no way of determining for certain which of these scenarios applies to the Flavian period. The decision-making processes might also have varied according to the circumstances and the people involved: strong personalities potentially had more impact on the decision-making process, which could trigger changes in the execution processes of an issue. As there is no direct evidence as to whether the peacock coins during Domitian’s reign were the result of a top-down or a bottom-up decision, we refrain from taking an explicit stand. The least we can say is that the imagery will have been in line with what the emperor stood for or aimed to stand for. It is inconceivable that anyone involved in the process will have deliberately wanted to harm or insult the imperial dynasty with ill-chosen imagery.

It has been assumed to be self-evident that the appearance of the peacock in Domitian’s coinage intended to align Domitia Longina in 82/3, and both her and Julia Titi in 88/9 with Juno. In the eastern provinces during the Julio-Claudian period, several female relatives of reigning emperors had already been associated with Juno’s Greek counterpart, Hera, on coins as well as in papyri or inscriptions, to which we will return below.[15] Yet, when considering the complete absence of associations between women and Juno in the imperial visual communication on the Italian peninsula – and based on the surviving sources the same can be said for non-imperial imagery – the Roman appropriation of the peacock/Juno/empress association needs some explanation.[16]

II The peacock before the Flavian age

There is no way to establish a detailed chronology of what came first, nor to clearly define the extent to which socio-economic and religious phenomena influenced each other, but, as far as we can tell, the arrival of the peacock on the Italian peninsula and the peacock/Juno association occurred more or less simultaneously. Though peafowl were bred in different parts of the eastern Mediterranean from the fifth century BCE onwards, pavoniculture did not become part of Roman farming until the first century BCE, as the literary sources attest.[17] Peafowl were kept for profit: the peacock feathers were sold as luxury accessories to embellish dress, hairstyle or houses, and the eggs and flesh appeared on the dinner tables of wealthy elites.[18] In the first century CE, peacocks were a well-established commodity in Roman elite circles. Although there was a centuries-old tradition in the Greek Mediterranean that visualized Juno’s Greek counterpart Hera with the peacock, on the Italian peninsula the connection between the bird and Juno seems to be no older than the late first century BCE or early first century CE.

In the Greek Mediterranean, Hera was worshipped in the Heraion on the island of Samos, where, according to Menodotos of Samos, peacocks were bred and dispersed from there to other regions.[19] By 200 BCE the birds were clearly considered an identifying token of the goddess and her shrine, for Samos started minting coins that showed the portrait of Hera on the obverse, while her scepter and a peacock standing on a caduceus adorned the reverse.[20] During the imperial period, this numismatic practice continued but now Hera’s peacock was also paired with the obverse portrait of the emperor and in one instance, during Nero’s reign, with an imperial woman, Agrippina Minor.[21]

On the Italian peninsula, peacock imagery first appeared in the first century BCE without associating the bird with Juno. In her detailed iconographic study of the peacock motif in Mediterranean art, Tortel argues that the oldest images of the birds in houses on the Italian peninsula were meant to highlight the Dionysiac theme of its surroundings rather than evoking the goddess Juno.[22] The peacock appeared, in combination with other fauna and flora, as a celebration of human, animal and plant nature. Frescoes in the villa of Oplontis dated to the mid- or late first century BCE, for instance, show the peacock amidst theatre masks of tragedy, branches of myrtle, flower garlands, a garden fountain, dolphin and dove.[23] In less well-defined contexts, the peacock also made its entrance in various art forms of the western Mediterranean, featuring on oil-lamps, for example.[24]

To summarize briefly, in the two centuries leading up to the reign of Domitian, the peacock emerged as part of the iconography in the western Mediterranean, but unlike the eastern Mediterranean it was not yet explicitly linked with Juno. This does not mean of course that a viewer could nonetheless make this connection. The first clear instance in which the peacock is depicted as the Roman goddess’ totem animal occurs in Ovid’s Metamorphoses, dated to 8 CE. In Ovid’s tale, Juno had asked Argus to guard one of her husband’s paramours, the nymph Io, who was turned into a heifer by Zeus. Ovid explains how Argus’ task was facilitated by his one hundred eyes, with which he always kept watch. Zeus, taking pity on Io, sent Mercury to kill Argus and to free Io of her guardian. In two different passages, Ovid explains how Juno took the eyes of the beheaded Argus and put them on the feathers of her bird, the peacock.[25]

At this point, it is worth pointing out that the first instance in which a living woman is likened to the Roman deity Juno can also be attributed to Ovid. Contrary to the Greek provinces, of which the above-mentioned Samian coin with Agrippina Minor is a clear example, on the Italian peninsula and in the city of Rome, the association of imperial women with Juno was absent, with only one notable exception. In his exile poetry, Ovid depicts Livia as having the beauty of Venus and the character of Juno, thus making her a worthy consort for Augustus, whom Ovid associates with Jupiter.[26] Ovid is the first to represent the reigning emperor and his consort with their divine equivalents. No other surviving text, inscription or artwork repeats this association in such unambiguous terms until the time of Domitian, when the poet Statius echoes Ovid’s motif, to which we will return when discussing the coinage of 82/3 below.

III The coins of 82/3: the divine imperial couple and the restoration of the Capitolium

The peacock first appeared in Domitianic precious metal coinage in 82/3. It appeared walking right and surrounded by the legend CONCORDIA AVGVSTA on the reverse of aurei and denarii struck for Domitia Longina.[27] During the late Republic, the peacock had occasionally appeared as a control-mark, yet to have the bird fill the field of a coin was nothing short of a numismatic novelty.[28]

It is difficult to ascertain what had inspired the coin design. As mentioned, the first century CE had seen an increasing number of peacocks in western Mediterranean art. The designs we find on the aurei may very well have been inspired by these contemporary iconographic developments.[29] On the bronze coins from Samos (Fig. 3), for example, the peacocks that appeared were quite similar in composition to their Roman counterparts. Of course, a peacock facing right is a rather generic image, so the engravers of the imperial peacock coins did not necessarily require iconographic prototypes to come up with their own design of the bird. At the very least, however, the very existence of the Samian peacock coins would have increased the recognition of Domitia as the earthly manifestation of Juno at a local level, all the more so because the empress also appeared on the obverse of Samian bronzes with Juno and her peacock on the reverse (RPC II, no. 1134).

What probably strengthened the association between Juno, the peacock, and Domitia were coeval aurei and denarii on which the portrait of Domitian was paired with another sacred bird on the reverse: Jupiter’s eagle (RIC II.1 Domitian 143–144). The contemporaneity of their appearance suggests these coins were part of a programmatic attempt to associate the imperial couple with their divine counterpart. On a chalcedony cameo, we even find the peacock carrying the bust of Domitia, which may have been paired with the portrait of Domitian atop an eagle.[30] For both the coins and the cameo, the use of the birds may be interpreted as a subtle means of associating the imperial couple with the divine – as opposed to outright identifying them as such. Such subtleties were not new in imperial representation, as similar associations with the gods had been made on coins of Augustus and Nero, for example.[31] The symbolic equation between the imperial couple and the divine couple is also attested outside visual representation. In his poem on the eunuch Earinus, Statius explicitly casts Domitian and Domitia in a divine role as he speaks of how Earinus is favored by the ‘Ausonian Jupiter and the Roman Juno alike’ (Iuppiter Ausonius pariter Romanaque Iuno).[32] In the provinces, this association was also recognized, with a statue base from Stratonikeia, for example, speaking of Domitia as ‘the new Hera, wife of the emperor’ (Δομετίαν νέαν ῾´Ηραν τὴν γυναῆκα τοῦ Σεβαστοῦ).[33]

Ovid, as we have seen, had already come up with the equation between the imperial couple and Jupiter/Juno as an expression of marital harmony for Augustus and Livia.[34] The legend CONCORDIA AVGVSTA suggests that our peacock aurei were meant to express a similar message for Domitian and Domitia.[35] But Roman coins often bore more than one message, and when seen in the light of the context of its production additional layers of significance may be distinguished.[36] The date of 82/3 makes it tempting to relate the aurei to Domitian’s efforts in restoring the cityscape, which he took over from Titus after his brother’s demise in 81. This had been prompted by a fire that struck the city in 80, which had ravaged much of its sacred landscape (Suet. Tit. 8.3–4; Jer. Chron. 2105). Not least significant of the buildings that were destroyed was the Capitolium, the temple sacred to the city’s protective triad: Jupiter, Juno and Minerva. Domitian’s responsibility for its restoration is well-attested in the literary sources.[37] On coins of imperial produce, however, explicit references to the Capitolium are lacking. The temple with the statues of its main deities nevertheless interestingly appears on cistophori surrounded by the legend CAPIT(olium) RESTIT(uit) (‘[he] restored the Capitolium’).[38]

To have the restored Capitolium appear on coins meant to circulate outside of Rome, but not on coins used in the city itself, seems somewhat peculiar. However, even if an explicit reference to the temple was lacking on imperial precious-metal coins of 82/3, we may see an allusion to its restoration in a more implicit way. In fact, Juno and Jupiter were not the only members of the Capitoline triad who made a numismatic appearance in 82/3, as the same was true for Minerva.[39]

Minerva’s appearance on Domitian’s coins is of course hardly revealing, given that the well-known association between the two had been made from the very moment Domitian had appeared on imperial coins.[40] In 82/3, the connection between the emperor and his patroness was further emphasized by having Minerva appear in bust form on some of the aurei (RIC II.1 Domitian 138–140). As Wallace-Hadrill has pointed out before, using images of a bust on both sides of a coin more commonly created a deliberate confusion among the coin’s audience as to who was to be considered its issuing authority.[41] On a medium for which a single bust was the norm, placing a bust on each side gave the viewer an idea that both busts were to be closely connected – whether it be for dynastic reasons or for associations with the divine.[42] On the aurei of 82/3 we see a combination of the two, as the double bust types were also used for Domitian/Domitia, Divus Vespasian/Diva Domitilla, and Divus Titus/Julia Titi.[43] Within the series, there was also room for Domitian’s progeny, as his deceased son appeared as DIVVS CAESAR IMP DOMITIANI F (‘the deified Caesar, son of Domitianus’) on the reverse of aurei bearing the obverse portrait of Domitia.[44] In their togetherness, the coins showed the Flavian dynasty in all its glory. The fact that each deceased member appeared as divus or diva, moreover, made sure that the surviving members could also expect apotheosis upon their demise.[45]

While still among the living, however, the Domitian/eagle and Domitia/peacock coins cast the imperial couple as the earthly representatives of Jupiter and Juno. Their double busts in the aurei series of 82/3 should therefore be seen in conjunction with the Domitian/Minerva aurei, as it effectively brought the Capitoline triad to coinage. Seen in this light, the CONCORDIA AVGVSTA around the peacock was not just speaking of the marital bliss of the imperial couple, as put forward by Wood, but perhaps also of the harmony of the trias Capitolina, which was (in the process of being) secured by the restoration of the Capitolium.[46] The simultaneity of these series of aurei and the CAPIT RESTIT cistophori, moreover, may well suggest a concerted effort to highlight the restoration of the Capitolium in Rome and Asia Minor alike.

In short, the peacock coins of 82/3 were rich in meaning and alluded to a variety of contexts. On its own their image and surrounding legend could be interpreted as a means to bring Domitia into the realm of Juno, so as to project her as the loyal wife of Jovian Domitian. As part of a series, on the other hand, the message was far-reaching. It belonged to a program that exalted the Flavian dynasty, with its deceased members having already become divine, and the living members being the gods’ representatives on earth in anticipation of deification. Corresponding apparently closely to Domitian’s restoration of the Capitolium, moreover, this message may even have received a sense of topicality that was strongly embedded in the Roman cityscape.

IV The coins of 88/9: Domitian’s two wives?

The peacock would not reappear on imperial coins until five years later, when the same reverse image and legend were again paired with the obverse portrait of Domitia Longina, now including a reference to Domitian’s new cognomen ex virtute Germanicus in the obverse legend (RIC II.1 Domitian 678–681). This time, however, the peacock would also appear on coins struck for Julia Titi (RIC II.1 Domitian 683–684). In its composition, Julia’s bird received a treatment that differed from the peacock moving to the right that appeared with Domitia’s effigy. Instead, it appeared frontally with its tail spread open, surrounded by the legend DIVI TITI FILIA.[47] Although such a depiction of the peacock had appeared in other art forms before the Flavian period, there was no numismatic precedent for this image.[48]

Domitia had received various reverse images in 82/3. On the aurei of 88/9, both her portrait and that of Julia Titi were only paired with the peacock reverse type. That both empresses received the same symbol of Juno may strike one as somewhat odd, if one recalls that in the case of Domitia the peacock had meant to signify marital harmony. This it probably continued to do in 88/9, since the legend CONCORDIA AVGVST(A) remained unchanged. The change of the legend around Julia Titi’s peacock and the bird’s different rendering notwithstanding, one may appreciate why we read in Suetonius and Dio of an alleged affair between the emperor and his niece (Suet. Dom. 22; Dio Cass. 67.3.2). Whatever the veracity of the rumors, the somewhat ambiguous coin iconography may have made matters worse in fueling them.

It is, of course, unthinkable that the aurei struck for Julia Titi tried to undermine the very marital harmony boasted on the coins struck for Domitia. The reappearance of the peacock for Domitia would have served to underline that all was still well between the emperor and his actual wife, perhaps prompted by the rumors of a certain friction. Rumor had it that she had an affair with the well-known pantomime actor Paris, which supposedly resulted in Domitian divorcing her. But because the Roman people demanded her return, so the sources tell us, he took her back and reinstalled her as empress of Rome.[49] To what extent these stories were based on truth remains impossible to tell. It is also not clear whether these rumors already circulated in Roman society during Domitian’s reign or whether they were invented afterwards because they fitted the image of Domitian. At the very least, we can say that in the minds of the ancient writers – and presumably in the minds of their respective audiences as well – it was conceived plausible that the presence of two Augustae, especially when it was debatable which one of them should (and could) provide an heir to the throne, could cause anxiety due to shifting allegiances and conflicting ambitions of everyone involved.

Considering these dynastic tensions and the risk of an audience’s ‘misreading’ of the messages on the imperial coins, one begs to wonder: why was it felt important in 88/9 to treat Julia Titi in an almost identical manner as Domitia Longina? After all, there can only be one empress, so why not just emphasize the return of the marital bliss in the imperial household? The strategic maneuver can be explained when one takes the age difference between the women into account. It could not be excluded that Domitia, at that time in her thirties or early forties, would still produce an heir. If not, there was always the possibility for Domitian to adopt one of Julia’s potential children, if she, in her twenties in 88/9, were to remarry and become a mother. A hypothetical untimely death of Domitia would also leave open the way for Domitian to marry his niece, which was not considered incestuous anymore since the emperor Claudius had legalized this marital bond so that he could marry his niece Agrippina Minor. There were enough scenarios to be conceived, in other words, that necessitated an almost equal social and public standing for the two Augustae in order to allow Domitian the largest possible elbow room to ensure dynastic continuity.[50]

For dynastic purposes, therefore, it was important for Julia Titi to become part of the imperial message. One may perhaps see in the alternative depiction of the peacock – i. e., moving to the right or with its tail spread open – a compositional means of distinguishing various significances of the bird. What this significance was, beyond the association with Juno and marital harmony, may be hard to uncover when only taking into account the other aurei struck in 88/9, which focused on Domitian’s Germanic campaigns and the ludi saeculares.[51] Other than the peacock coins, no aureus of 88/9 hinted at dynastic matters. For a better understanding, we would argue that Domitianic precedents need to be taken into account. It may be worth recalling the dynastic significance of the double bust types of the aurei of 82/3. On these coins, Julia Titi had solely been linked to the portrait of her deified father (RIC II.1 Domitian 147). As far as divine association was concerned, she had been left out the equation, as opposed to the other living members of the Flavian family that had appeared on the aurei – i. e., Domitian and Domitia. In 88/9, however, Julia Titi was made part of the equation. Much like Domitian and Domitia before her, the bird on the reverse strongly associated her with the divine. In addition, the legend DIVI TITI FILIA anticipated Julia’s apotheosis in a similar way as the series as a whole had done for Domitian and Domitia in 82/3.

Given the unusual place of the peacock coins in the 88/9 aureus repertoire, we may therefore interpret the coins struck for Julia Titi as an extension of the dynastic series of aurei of 82/3. In the same way as had happened for Domitian and Domitia, she was not only presented as part of an exalted dynasty, but was through the association with both Juno and her deified father also portrayed as being closely related to the divine and expected to be deified upon her demise. This indeed happened only two years later, when the deceased Julia received aurei showing her as DIVA IVLIA AVGVSTA (RIC II.1 Domitian 718).

The introduction of the peacock to Roman coinage during the reign of Domitian marked the beginning of a systematization of an iconography that connected Juno and the peacock to the image of the empress. This divine association and its embeddedness in the visual program of the imperial family would eventually be exploited and expanded under Domitian’s successors. In this contribution, we have emphasized the chronology of peacock imagery, but also of a language – either through text or images – that connects the emperor’s wife with Juno, in order to plea for fastidiousness: it is tempting to project the omnipresence of the emperor/Jupiter/eagle and empress/Juno/peacock associations of later times retroactively to the reigns of Augustus and Livia or of Domitian and Domitia Longina, and thus consider them as a self-evident part of imperial tradition. However, eighty years separate Ovid’s Augustus/Jupiter and Livia/Juno from Statius’ Domitian/Jupiter and Domitia/Juno connection, and the peacock was never introduced in the imperial imagery during Augustus’ reign. What made the Domitianic peacock coins have an impact was offering his successors a visual instrument for self-display, their meaning stretching beyond the immediate evocation of marital harmony.

The peacock was embedded in a concerted program that at one and the same time highlighted the Flavian dynasty, the apotheosis of its deceased members, the divine association of those alive, and the dynasty’s care for the cityscape. These various layers of significance were all imbued into a single aureus type. The coin already had a clear meaning on its own, underlining the marital harmony for Domitia Longina and divine pedigree for Julia Titi, but it was especially in combination with other media that we witness a sophisticated ideological framework. Along with Domitian’s eagle, the association between the imperial couple and their divine parallel was showcased. Among the double-headed aurei, the divine prospects of this same couple was addressed. And, in the context of Domitian’s reconstructed cityscape, this association with the gods gained a great sense of topicality. In brief, then, the potential for coins to be interpreted and understood in relation to various media was exploited to the fullest degree.

The systematization of which the bird had been part made sure that the iconography of these Flavian feathers would be picked up under Domitian’s successors. First, having (part of) the Capitoline triad numismatically presented by the gods’ associative birds – the eagle, peacock and owl – became a trope in imperial coinage after the three of them appeared on bronzes of Hadrian (RIC II.3 Hadrian 2182, 2824–2826, 2925). On its own, the peacock would similarly reappear under Hadrian before appearing more regularly under Antoninus Pius and Marcus Aurelius, often in combination with Juno or her throne.[52] It was under the same emperors that the peacock would be explicitly linked to the realm of apotheosis, as attested by its appearance on the consecratio coins of the Antonine divae.[53] This all cannot be detached from a greater attention to dynasty that is characteristic to these reigns. The fact that in this dynastic repertoire the peacock reappeared in the same way as it had been depicted under Domitian can hardly have been coincidental.

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Published Online: 2025-01-15
Published in Print: 2025-05-27

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