Did the Julii Have Ties to Picenum? Evidence, Coincidence, and Possibility

 by Mary Harrsch © 2025

A fair-complexioned dictator, a conquered Adriatic people, and a Roman family myth invite a closer look

I was reading an article about the ancient Piceni people of the Italian peninsula that noted they may have had relatively light hair and eyes, reflecting the broad range of physical variation attested among Iron Age populations in central Italy. (https://greekreporter.com/.../dna-analysis-piceni-people.../) Julius Caesar himself is described by ancient biographers as fair-complexioned, which prompted me to explore—cautiously—the possibility that some branch of the gens Julia may have had connections to Picenum.

Detail of the Battle of Tullus Hostilius against the Veientes and Fidenates that occurred in one of Rome's early expansionist wars as portrayed between 1597-1601 by Giuseppe Cesari aka Cavalier d'Arpino that I photographed at the Capitoline Museum in Rome.

Plutarch, in his Life of Caesar, describes Caesar as λευκός (leukos), a term commonly translated as “fair” or “pale,” likely referring to his complexion and health rather than implying ethnic origin. Suetonius likewise describes Caesar as candidus. These descriptors are consistent but imprecise, and on their own they tell us little about ancestry. Still, they serve as a reminder that physical variation across ancient Italy was considerable and not confined to rigid regional or ethnic boundaries.

The Piceni were a distinct Italic people who inhabited the Adriatic coast of central Italy in a region known as Picenum (modern Marche and northern Abruzzo). Archaeological and genetic studies indicate that they shared a broadly similar genetic history with other Central Italian Iron Age populations, rather than representing a discrete migration from northern Europe. At the same time, Picenum occupied a strategically important position within Rome’s expanding sphere of influence, and its incorporation into the Roman state in the third century BCE created new opportunities for integration, alliance, and elite mobility.

The Julii were among the oldest patrician families at Rome. Their securely attested prominence begins in the late third century BCE during the Second Punic War, when Sextus Julius Caesar served as praetor in 208 BCE. His father is generally identified as Lucius Julius, who apparently did not yet use the cognomen Caesar, and his grandfather is thought to have been Lucius Julius Libo, consul in 267 BCE. Later Julian tradition famously claimed descent from Alba Longa and the goddess Venus—an origin story best understood as ideological and political rather than historical, particularly given its usefulness in the late Republic.

It is chronologically noteworthy that Lucius Julius Libo’s consulship follows relatively soon after Rome’s annexation of Picenum, completed after the capture of Asculum by Publius Sempronius Sophus. While there is no evidence that the Julii originated in Picenum, Roman expansion into central Italy often involved complex patterns of patronage, marriage alliances, land acquisition, and the incorporation of regional elites. Any such connections—especially those transmitted through maternal lines or client relationships—would be unlikely to appear in later, streamlined patrician genealogies.

The scholarly connection between Libo and Gaius Julius Caesar remains speculative, but it is interesting that the cognomen Libo is commonly interpreted as referring to a “sprinkler” or libation-pourer, probably derived from ritual functions associated with sacrifice. Generations later, Gaius Julius Caesar was appointed flamen dialis, high priest of Jupiter, whose primary duties centered on daily sacrifices and libations to maintain the favor of the chief god. While this parallel cannot be treated as evidence of hereditary priesthood or continuous ritual identity, it may reflect a long-standing familial association with religious prestige. Roman priestly offices were not hereditary in a strict sense, but they were often associated with particular patrician lineages over time.

Taken together, these observations do not establish a Picene origin for the Julii. However, they do suggest that limited or indirect connections to Picenum—through alliances, property, or regional networks formed during Rome’s consolidation of Italy—are historically plausible. Roman aristocratic identity was shaped as much by selective memory and myth-making as by lived social reality, and later origin narratives often obscured earlier regional entanglements. In that context, the absence of explicit evidence should caution against firm conclusions in either direction, leaving room for hypotheses that acknowledge both the constraints of our sources and the complexity of elite mobility in Republican Italy.

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Harnessing AI in Humanities Research: Ensuring Authentic Insight Despite Fabricated Citations and Model Bias

by Mary Harrsch © 2025

As artificial intelligence becomes increasingly embedded in scholarly practice, its role within the humanities requires both methodological clarity and critical scrutiny. This paper presents a practical, multi-agent workflow for integrating generative AI into historical research while maintaining rigorous academic standards. Drawing on the author’s use of DeepSeek for factual retrieval, ChatGPT for dialogic interpretation and narrative synthesis, and ClaudeAI for structural review, the study demonstrates how different models can function as complementary counterparts—mirroring the distributed expertise of peer review.

AI-generated image of the Roman general Belisarius battling a Vandal Warrior in North Africa created with Adobe Firefly. The original image was then verified for historical accuracy using Anthropic's ClaudeAI. Corrections were made using Photoshop and its Generative Fill feature.

Through case studies—including the development of a quantitative framework for assessing household wealth in Pompeii, the reconstruction of post-catastrophe cultural cycles in Mesoamerica, and the reinterpretation of ancient Mediterranean artifacts—the paper illustrates how iterative questioning enables AI to operate as an intellectual partner rather than a passive search tool. The analysis also highlights the risks inherent in relying on opaque training models, such as citation fabrication, semantic drift, and uncritical reinforcement of user assumptions.

To mitigate these challenges, the paper outlines verification protocols grounded in cross-checking with authoritative databases such as WorldCat, Google Scholar, and JSTOR, and discusses the use of generative image tools (Adobe Firefly, DALL·E) to create historically informed visualizations while maintaining ethical and evidentiary standards. Ultimately, the study argues that AI can significantly amplify humanistic inquiry—expanding interdisciplinary reach, accelerating interpretive insight, and supporting the construction of deeper historical understanding—provided scholars remain vigilant stewards of evidence, provenance, and context.

You can view and/or download the full text here:

https://zenodo.org/records/18089948

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Shimmering Spirits of an Emerging Empire: Goldwork from the Rise of the Achaemenids

 by Mary Harrsch ©2025

I photographed this extraordinary gold pendant—now in the collections of the Princeton University Art Museum but on loan to The Field Museum in Chicago—and was immediately struck by its intricate, world of animals and sacred symbols. The pendant's surface is alive with detail: a radiant bird spreads its wings at the top, while two powerful goats rear up on either side of a stylized tree of life. Even the lower register is packed with sinuous forms, ending in delicate dangling leaf-like elements that would have shimmered with every movement.

Gold pendant with goats, bird, and apotropaic mask, late 7th to early 6th century, Western Iran (?), Princeton University Art Museum. Photographed by the author.

Dated to the late 7th–early 6th century BCE, this piece has no recorded find spot, but its imagery speaks volumes. The pairing of a sacred tree with flanking goats is a deeply rooted symbol in Western Iranian and early Achaemenid art, appearing on seals, metalwork, and elite ornaments from the region during the rise of the Persian Empire. The bird above—part guardian, part emblem of divine presence—echoes motifs used by artisans working in the orbit of Median and early Achaemenid courts.

The Tree of Life and Master of Animals motifs, which would later become powerful symbols of Achaemenid imperial authority, are not Persian inventions but inheritances from far older civilizations.

The Tree of Life, first appearing in Mesopotamian art of the 4th millennium BCE during the Uruk period, symbolized fertility, eternal life, and a cosmic link between heaven and earth, often depicted with flanking animals.

The Master of Animals motif, with a probable Neolithic precursor at Çatalhöyük around 6000 BCE, was standardized in Mesopotamia as a heroic figure subduing beasts, representing the triumph of order over chaos and elite dominion over nature.

The Achaemenid Empire (c. 550–330 BCE) masterfully adopted and adapted these ancient, widespread symbols. They reinterpreted the Tree of Life, frequently using the date palm or cedar, to signify royal power and divine favor bestowed upon the king. Simultaneously, they depicted their monarchs in the classic "Master" pose on seals and reliefs, visually asserting the Persian king's role as the central, divinely-sanctioned controller of all worldly forces, thus embedding their new dynasty within a timeless, Near Eastern tradition of sacred kingship.

At the bottom of the pendant, a frontal, mask-like face gazes outward. Its large staring eyes and flowing tendrils give it a Medusa-like presence, but it does not depict a Greek Gorgon Instead, it belongs to a shared ancient Near Eastern tradition of apotropaic masks. These guardian visages were meant to ward off danger—functionally much like the gorgoneia of Greek art—even though they arose from different mythologies.

The pendant's breathtaking craftsmanship displays the inclusion of fine granulation and beaded filigree, tiny gold spheres and wires arranged with astonishing precision. It reflects a technical mastery typical of luxury workshops active in western Iran during this transitional era, just as Achaemenid visual language was beginning to crystallize.

Although its original owner remains unknown, this pendant captures the spirit of a developing cosmology—where sacred creatures, royal symbols, protective spirits, and shimmering gold announced status, belief, and connection to emerging imperial power.

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From Rhodes to Vulci: The Unlikely Journey of an Aryballos Depicting the Egyptian Dwarf-God Bes

by Mary Harrsch © 2025

This small pot of perfumed oil had a more adventurous life than most people in the ancient world...

An increase in the production of perfume vessels (aryballoi and alabastra) depicting dwarves and other Egyptian motifs in the 6th century BCE was the result of intensified trade and cultural contact between Greece and Egypt, specifically facilitated by the Greek trading colony of Naukratis in the Nile Delta.

Greek aryballos depicting the Egyptian god Bes produced in Rhodes between 610-550 BCE and found in the Etruscan context of Vulci. Photographed at the British Museum by the author.

Greek merchants (primarily from Ionian cities like Miletus, Samos, and Rhodes) were exposed to Egyptian art and religion and exchanged these motifs with ceramic production centers in Rhodes, Corinth, and East Greece. The 7th–6th centuries BCE in Greece are known as the Orientalizing period, when Greek art moved away from abstract Geometric patterns and eagerly adopted motifs, themes, and techniques from the East—primarily Anatolia, the Levant, and, crucially, Egypt. Egyptian figures like Bes (a dwarf deity) and Pataikos (a dwarf-like protective god) were visually striking and became desirable “exotic” motifs.

As a protector of the household—particularly women, children, and childbirth—Bes, a god of music, dance, and warfare, was particularly popular on items such as aryballoi. Perfume and oil were not just cosmetics; they were used in ritual, athletics, and as luxury goods dedicated to gods. Placing the image of a powerful Egyptian protective deity on a perfume vessel added a layer of apotropaic (evil-averting) magic and exotic prestige. A buyer wasn’t just getting perfume; they were getting protection and a token of a sophisticated foreign culture.

The British Museum identifies the figure as a Gorgon, but ClaudeAI disagreed, saying: “Gorgons (like Medusa) were typically depicted as terrifying, with snakes for hair, wide staring eyes, a protruding tongue, and fangs—meant to be apotropaic through fear. This face is grinning and almost jovial, not terrifying.”

Modern scholarship supports this ambiguity. G. Petrie, C. Picard, and Beazley all noted that Greek artisans often merged Bes and Gorgon traits because both were apotropaic and were understood (by Greeks) as “protective monstrous faces,” and this may be the case here. While Egyptian Bes usually has lion-like features, Greek interpretations often exaggerate the teeth into fangs—especially on Rhodian faience and terracotta vessels.

The hair or headdress here shows none of the characteristic snaky locks of a Gorgon, but instead a thick, lion-like mane typical of Bes. The tongue on this aryballos is small, rounded, and almost playful, not the great hanging slab seen on archaic Gorgoneia.

While Gorgons could appear on protective objects, the cheerful quality of this figure doesn’t fit. The broad grin is exactly right for Bes. The squat, rounded vessel form echoes Bes’s dwarfish body, and Bes was extremely popular on perfume and cosmetic containers.

Furthermore, its find spot at Vulci supports an identification with Bes. The Etruscans were enthusiastic consumers of eastern Greek luxury goods—especially perfume vessels—and they also maintained their own direct trade connections with Egypt. Exotic, ‘Orientalizing’ imagery was highly fashionable in Etruria during this period, and Egyptian protective deities like Bes were particularly appealing within their visual culture.

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A Matriarchal Society That Sacrificed Women? The Disturbing Truth About Britain’s Celtic Tribes

  By Mary Harrsch © 2025

I was surprised by this article I read in the New York Post by Ben Cost describing a recent archaeological find in an Iron Age cemetery of the Celtic Durotriges tribe in ancient Britain.

Teenaged female victim of Durotriges sacrifice found buried face down in a "deviant" burial Image courtesy of Bournemouth University

https://nypost.com/2025/10/30/science/scientists-crack-2000-year-old-murder-mystery-while-filming-tv-show/

I had read about the various Celtic tribes in Britain while studying Roman history and assumed the tribes considered matriarchal would not have engaged in ritual violence against women. Yet the discovery described in the Post article challenges the assumption that social systems centered around women were nonviolent or egalitarian.

Apparently, the team found the remains of a young female victim who had been bound and sustained injuries to her arms and upper body, indicating she had been brutalized before her death. She had then been buried facedown—a burial that would have been considered “deviant.”

I dug a little deeper and learned that the description of the Durotriges as a “matriarchal” society—where women owned land and men moved to their wives’ villages—is based on classical sources (like Roman historians) and some archaeological evidence (such as rich female burials). However, modern historians and archaeologists caution against seeing this as a true matriarchy in the sense of women holding all political power. A more accurate term might be matrilineal or matrifocal.

In a matrilineal culture, descent and inheritance are traced through the mother’s line. This would explain why land ownership was tied to women—it stayed within the mother’s clan. In a matrifocal culture, the family and household are centered around the mother. For example, a matrilineal society might trace inheritance through the mother’s kin group, while a matrifocal one—like some Mediterranean peasant communities—centers household authority on the mother even when property is nominally male-owned. In such a system, women could have high social and economic status, but it does not mean that all women were powerful or that violence against them was absent. Power was likely still concentrated within certain elite families, many ultimately controlled by males.

The key explanation for the violent sacrifice of a young female by the Durotriges is suggested by the lead archaeologist’s comment mentioned at the end of the article. He proposes that the victims “straddled the lower strata of society” and may have been “from elsewhere.”

Even in societies where elite women held power, there was still a social hierarchy. The victims of sacrifice might have been slaves or captives taken from other tribes, social outcasts including criminals or individuals who had broken sacred taboos, or simply the expendable—those from the lowest rungs of society whose lives were deemed necessary to offer to the gods for the community’s benefit (e.g., for a good harvest or to avert disaster).

Other examples of female ritual violence can be drawn from many other Celtic tribes in Britain as well. At Wetwang Slack, a young Parisi woman was found buried in a grain storage pit. She was placed on her side in a crouched position, which might seem respectful, but a large, sharp piece of bone (a goad) had been violently thrust through her body, piercing her lung and heart. This is strongly interpreted as a ritual killing—perhaps a dedicatory offering when the storage pit was first dug or last used.

Excavations at Danebury Hillfort, associated with the Atrebates, revealed burials of both sexes thrown into disused storage pits. The victims were bound, with no sign of traumatic injury, indicating the sacrificial nature of the deposit.

A pre-Catuvellauni sacrifice, dubbed the Goddess of Ivinghoe, was found at the bottom of a hillfort’s ritual shaft. She had been thrown in headfirst and was accompanied by ritually killed animals. Her death is interpreted as a foundation offering for the hillfort’s defenses.

Figure 1 Foundation sacrifices likely served multiple ritual purposes: propitiating chthonic deities, transferring life force to sanctify new constructions, and establishing supernatural protection for the community. The choice of victims—often young individuals of lower social status—and the careful ritual context of their deaths reflect the Iron Age Celtic worldview where human life could be offered to maintain cosmic and social order. Such practices, while disturbing to modern sensibilities, were integral to the religious landscape of pre-Roman Britain. Image generated using Adobe Firefly by the author.

In 2023, archaeologists uncovered the skeleton of a young woman who had been placed facedown in a ditch in the territory of the Cornovii tribe. Her spine showed signs of a severe, chronic joint disease that would have caused a hunched posture and significant pain. The theory is that her physical difference may have marked her as an outcast or someone with a special (perhaps sinister) connection to the spirit world, leading to her being killed and buried in a “deviant” manner to prevent her spirit from rising.

These cases reveal several patterns that help explain why women were victims of this type of violence. In the ancient world, foundation offerings have been found across cultures. Burying an individual (male or female) in a grain storage pit, under a house post, or in a hillfort’s rampart was likely seen as a way to consecrate the site and ensure its success and fertility. The Wetwang Slack woman is a prime example.

Individuals deemed “different,” whether through physical disability, illness, social status (such as foreign slaves), or behavior (accused of witchcraft or breaking taboos), became potent scapegoats or offerings because of their “otherness.” The Cornovii woman and the “expendable” Durotriges victims fit this pattern.

In a worldview where death and fertility were closely linked, the killing of an individual (representing a life force) could be an offering to the gods to ensure the cycle of life, a good harvest, or the turning of the seasons. It’s vital to note that men were also frequent victims of ritual violence, often in even greater numbers. The difference lies in the potential reasons. While male victims are often linked to warfare and warrior cults, female victims are more frequently interpreted in the context of fertility, earth deities, and domestic rituals (such as the dedication of a storage pit).

Evidence from ancient Gaul (modern France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and parts of Switzerland, Italy, and Germany) provides some of the most compelling and well-documented cases of ritual violence against women in the Celtic world. The classical sources on Gaul paint a picture of a staunchly patriarchal warrior society.

At Ribemont-sur-Ancre (Somme), a site often associated with the Ambiani tribe but likely used by a broader confederation of the Pictones or Santones, a vast open-air sanctuary was found containing the remains of hundreds of young warriors, arranged in a “bone house” where their corpses were left to be defleshed by the elements—a clear war trophy dedicated to a warrior god. Crucially, nearby, archaeologists found a separate enclosure containing the skeletons of at least six women. They showed no signs of battle trauma but had been executed, likely by strangulation or throat-cutting. Their bodies were then left exposed in the same manner as the warriors.

At the Arverni site of Gournay-sur-Aronde (Oise), another major nemeton (sacred sanctuary) similar to Ribemont, among the human remains, skeletons of women have also been found. While the emphasis was on male warriors, the presence of female victims indicates they were part of the ritual spectrum.

There was also a case of female ritual sacrifice discovered among the dynastic burials at Heuneburg (Germany). While technically in the area of the early La Tène culture that influenced Gaul, a stunning discovery was made in a lavish burial mound near the Heuneburg hillfort: a high-status princess buried on a bronze couch. However, in an adjacent chamber, the skeleton of a young girl (around six or seven years old) was found. She showed no signs of disease or trauma, leading to the strong conclusion that she was a retainer sacrifice, killed to accompany the princess into the afterlife.

Unlike some of the Celtic tribes of Iron Age Britain, inheritance and lineage in Gaul were traced through the father. While Celtic women in Gaul are noted to have had more freedom and legal rights than their Roman counterparts (they could own property and engage in trade), they did not hold systemic political power. The famous story of Boudica is from Britain, not Gaul, and was seen as an exception born of crisis. So, in the patriarchal context of Gaul, the ritual killing of women makes a different kind of sense, aligning with the themes of a warrior culture. Destroying the enemy’s warriors was one thing; but by also sacrificing their women, the victors were symbolically destroying the enemy’s future—their ability to reproduce and continue their lineage.

Celtic societies in Britain, even with a notable capacity for women to hold power—especially as queens (e.g., Boudica of the Iceni, Cartimandua of the Brigantes)—were still generally patriarchal. A woman from a powerful royal family, with a combination of lineage and personal achievement, could inherit power and rule, much like a man. But for the most part, all were fundamentally patriarchal, where acts of ritual violence were part of a religious and social system controlled by a male-dominated elite.

The archaeological record reminds us that reverence and violence often coexisted in ancient ritual. Even societies that celebrated female fertility and lineage could sanction the ritual destruction of women’s bodies—offered as vessels of renewal or scapegoats of misfortune. The paradox is not unique to the Celts; it speaks to a deeper human tension between power and sacrifice.

References: Bournemouth University, Durotriges Project. (n.d.). Durotriges Project: Excavation summaries and genomic research. Bournemouth University. https://www.bournemouth.ac.uk/research/projects/durotriges-project

Brunaux, J.-L. (Ed.). (2006). Holy ground: Sanctuaries and sacred landscapes in ancient Gaul. Yale University Press.

Brunaux, J.-L., & colleagues. (1990s–ongoing). The sanctuary at Ribemont-sur-Ancre (Somme): Excavation history and site reports. French Ministry of Culture. https://archeologie.culture.gouv.fr

Cadoux, J.-L., Ferdière, A., & later teams. (1960s–present). Excavation reports for Ribemontsur-Ancre and synthesis publications. French Ministry of Culture. https://archeologie.culture.gouv.fr

Cassidy, L. M., et al. (2025). Continental influx and pervasive matrilocality in Iron Age southern Britain. Nature. Advance online publication.

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41586-024-08409-6

Clauzel, T., Richardin, P., Ricard, J., & Lécuyer, C. (2023). Geographic origin and social status of the Gallic warriors from Ribemont-sur-Ancre (France) studied through isotope systematics of bone remains. International Journal of Osteoarchaeology, 33(2). https://doi.org/10.1002/oa.3172

Cost, B. (2025, October 30). Archaeologists unravel heartbreaking 2,000-year-old teen ‘murder mystery’ while filming TV show. New York Post.

https://nypost.com/2025/10/30/science/scientists-crack-2000-year-old-murder-mystery-while-filming-tv-show/

Dent, J. S. (1984). Wetwang Slack: An Iron Age cemetery on the Yorkshire Wolds (Unpublished MPhil thesis). University of Sheffield.

Grant, A. (1989). Animals and ritual in early Britain: The visible evidence from Danebury and other hillforts. Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 55, 263–278.

Heuneburg publications. (19th–21st centuries). Studies on princely burials and retainer deposits at the Heuneburg. In And make some other man our king: Heuneburg funerary practice and Fürstensitz archaeology. Cambridge University Press.

Jay, M., Haselgrove, C., Hamilton, D., Hill, J. D., & Dent, J. S. (2012). Chariots and context: Radiocarbon dates from Wetwang Slack and the chronology of the East Yorkshire Iron Age burial tradition and brooch sequence. Oxford Journal of Archaeology, 31(2), 161–189. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1468-0092.2012.00384.x

Killgrove, K. (2025, October 29). 2,000-year-old Celtic teenager may have been sacrificed and considered ‘disposable’. Live Science. https://www.livescience.com/archaeology/2-000-year-old-celtic-teenager-may-have-been-sacrificed-and-considered-disposable

Knüsel, C. J., et al. (1992). Fragmentation, mutilation and dismemberment: An interpretation of human remains on Iron Age sites. Research Paper / Archaeological chapter.

Russell, M., Smith, M., Hambleton, E., Cheetham, P., & Tamminen, H. (2024). Brutalised, bound and bled: A case of later Iron Age human sacrifice from Winterborne Kingston, Dorset. The Antiquaries Journal. Advance online publication. https://doi.org/10.1017/S0003581524000143

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