In its lengthy history, Rome arguably did not suffer a military catastrophe greater than that at Cannae during the Second Punic War in 216 BC and at Adrianople during the Gothic War in 378 AD. Yet not only did Rome recover from both these defeats to win their respective wars, if Rome’s rise and fall were to be captured as a bell-curve, the two defeats would also be interestingly positioned on opposing sides of one another. This thesis will therefore assess the extent to which Rome’s recovery from military disasters can serve as a proxy to the “health” of the Roman Empire. In the process, the differences in Rome’s political unity, social enthusiasm and good fortune between the two cases will be highlighted and discussed.

The Second Punic War, fought between the Romans and Carthaginians, lasted for seventeen years. During this time the Carthaginians inflicted several devastating defeats upon Roman armies. In addition to the cost in human lives, these defeats left a legacy of shame which the Romans were anxious to extirpate. An important part of this process lay in the public perception of these events, and the ones most responsible for shaping this perception were the historians who recorded and wrote about them. Historiography in Rome was in its infancy as the Second Punic War drew to an end, and none of the accounts written by men who lived through the war have survived intact. The fullest and most detailed account of these years is that of Livy who, writing two centuries later, inherited the fruits of two centuries of historiography on the subject. Yet contrary to the belief that has persisted too long, Livy was not merely a collator and copyist, but a moralist and an artist with a vision of his own. For Livy, the period of the Second Punic War represents the Romans at their greatest, before the evils of foreign immorality and luxury took root and led eventually to the excessive greed and intense rivalry which tore the state apart. Thus it is not only patriotism, but also nostalgia, that colours Livy’s memorable presentation of these events and the people involved. Nobody denies Livy’s literary artistry, but it is the choices he has made in his interpretation of people and events that are of more interest to me. It was Livy’s cherished belief that the Romans of old, exemplars of courage and strict morality, were well nigh unbeatable in a fair fight, which makes the presentation of episodes of defeat and disgrace so much more challenging for him. A close examination of the ancient evidence, and in some cases a re-evaluation of modern perceptions concerning episodes of defeat and disgrace and the people involved, has allowed me to better grasp the extent of Livy’s artistic licence and reinterpretation. The evidence and opinions of Polybius have played a crucial role in this process, not only because of his closer proximity to the events in question, but because Livy is known to have read and used his work. Polybius’ influence on Livy’s later decades concerning Rome’s involvement with Greek states is undeniable, but although Polybius wrote about the Second Punic War also, Livy has remained remarkably independent of Polybius’ account. A comparison of these accounts reveals the difference in the choices made by each author and serves to illuminate what makes Livy’s history his own.

The Second Punic War, fought between the Romans and Carthaginians, lasted for seventeen years. During this time the Carthaginians inflicted several devastating defeats upon Roman armies. In addition to the cost in human lives, these defeats left a legacy of shame which the Romans were anxious to extirpate. An important part of this process lay in the public perception of these events, and the ones most responsible for shaping this perception were the historians who recorded and wrote about them. Historiography in Rome was in its infancy as the Second Punic War drew to an end, and none of the accounts written by men who lived through the war have survived intact. The fullest and most detailed account of these years is that of Livy who, writing two centuries later, inherited the fruits of two centuries of historiography on the subject. Yet contrary to the belief that has persisted too long, Livy was not merely a collator and copyist, but a moralist and an artist with a vision of his own. For Livy, the period of the Second Punic War represents the Romans at their greatest, before the evils of foreign immorality and luxury took root and led eventually to the excessive greed and intense rivalry which tore the state apart. Thus it is not only patriotism, but also nostalgia, that colours Livy’s memorable presentation of these events and the people involved. Nobody denies Livy’s literary artistry, but it is the choices he has made in his interpretation of people and events that are of more interest to me. It was Livy’s cherished belief that the Romans of old, exemplars of courage and strict morality, were well nigh unbeatable in a fair fight, which makes the presentation of episodes of defeat and disgrace so much more challenging for him. A close examination of the ancient evidence, and in some cases a re-evaluation of modern perceptions concerning episodes of defeat and disgrace and the people involved, has allowed me to better grasp the extent of Livy’s artistic licence and reinterpretation. The evidence and opinions of Polybius have played a crucial role in this process, not only because of his closer proximity to the events in question, but because Livy is known to have read and used his work. Polybius’ influence on Livy’s later decades concerning Rome’s involvement with Greek states is undeniable, but although Polybius wrote about the Second Punic War also, Livy has remained remarkably independent of Polybius’ account. A comparison of these accounts reveals the difference in the choices made by each author and serves to illuminate what makes Livy’s history his own.