Welcome to Brook's Scroll. As promised we have a LOT going on this month, as I prepare to launch Antonius: Soldier of Fate, the final book in the Antonius Trilogy.

BOOK NO FURTHER, a local bookstore in Roanoke, Virginia will be teaming with me in a Virtual Book Launch on Thursday, October 16 from 6-7:30 Eastern Standard Time. This will be a fabulous event and for my European readers, consider taking a nap and staying up late to join us for at least a few minutes. I would LOVE to meet some of you face to face. This event does require you to sign up. So click HERE to do so. Space is limited, so be sure to sign up TODAY!

Also, remember to be sure you're subscribed to my website, because on October 30th, I'll be GIVING FIVE BOOKS away. Winners may choose whichever of the Trilogy they'd like to have.​

When Bly returned on September 22, Cockerill had his answer. He wanted Bly to fake her way into an insane asylum for women on Blackwell’s Island (above), a slim strip of land in the East River that was home to the city’s misfits and malcontents. She was to remain for ten days and report upon what she found when she returned.
 
For a woman who was just twenty-three, Bly had already shown a remarkable predisposition to grasp whatever opportunities that came her way and think about the risks later. Cockerill, for his part, was just the sort to dish them out without compunction. He was also, of course, testing Bly. Did she really have the nerve to execute such a bold feat?
 
He left all the planning to her. She’d have to figure out on her own how to convince nurses and doctors (and a judge and a few police officers as it turned out) that she was mad. All Cockerill promised was that, in ten days’ time, a representative of the paper would come get her out.
 
Bly accepted. 

Why the Blackwell’s Insane Asylum? For one, the island itself was just the sort of vulgar backdrop that would pique the interest of the World’s legion of readers. The island had long been known as a place of misery. A ferry ride over was often a one-way trip to hell.
 
It was home to a penitentiary for the criminal, a charity hospital for the poor and infirmed, an almshouse for the poor and disabled, and a workhouse for minor criminals, vagrants and the able-bodied poor. The women’s asylum housed the lunatic poor, where 1600 female inmates lived in a space originally built to accommodate just 850.
 
The asylum had a long history of mismanagement but in the summer of 1887, just months before Bly showed up in Cockerill’s office, some interesting tidbits had surfaced in the papers. The Times reported that two young nurses had filed charges against doctors that brought the doctors’ characters into question (a veiled Victorian reference, no doubt, of unwanted, ungentlemanly behavior toward them). Both the nurses and the two doctors were later suspended.
 
Additionally, the World alleged in two editorials that on Ward’s Island (which housed the city’s lunatic males), gross mistreatment of the inmates had taken place. Two attendants at the Ward’s asylum were indicted for manslaughter for the killing of an inmate.
 
These stories, and others, triggered the papers to call for an overhaul of the men’s and women’s facilities. However, further investigation by the press was thwarted. Those who ruled at Blackwell’s and Ward’s apparently wanted to keep their goings-on under wraps.
 
Bly’s assignment couldn’t have come at a better time.

The path to Blackwell’s required commitment from a doctor at Bellevue Hospital, about 2 ½ miles southwest of the island on the river. Bly and 4 other women soon found themselves taking the Bellevue ferry up river to their fate.
 
Two of these women were around Bly’s age and it was they whom Bly got to know the best. One of them was Anne Neville, a girl who had been let go from her position as a domestic maid when she became too ill to work. The other, Tillie Maynard, had also lost her position due to recent illness. Sick and without work, they had fallen victim to sudden poverty, a situation Bly soon realized applied to many of the women she would encounter.
 
But not all of them. There were others, kept in separate areas of the asylum, who had their own dark stories.


---
Tonya Mitchell is the author of A Feigned Madness, the tale of pioneering journalist Nellie Bly and her ten-day undercover ordeal in an insane asylum in 1887. It will be published by Cynren Press in October 2020 but is available for pre-order here. Tonya’s short fiction has appeared in The Copperfield Review, Words Undone, and The Front Porch Review, as well as various anthologies, including Furtive Dalliance, Welcome to Elsewhere, and Glimmer and Other Stories and Poems for which she won the Cinnamon Press award in fiction. She is a self-professed Anglophile and is obsessed with all things relating to the Victorian period. She is a member of the Historical Novel Society North America and resides in Cincinnati, OH with her husband and three wildly energetic sons.

Find her on social media:
Website: https://www.tonyamitchellauthor.com/
Twitter @tremmitchell
Instragram @tmitchell.2012
Facebook @TonyaMitchellAuthor
Email: tremitchell.2012@gmail.com

Before each blog, I always tend to take care of any business, and this week's business is FUN! I will be holding a GIVEAWAY for anyone subscribed to my website for a FREE BOOK! Though I'm celebrating the upcoming launch of Antonius: Soldier of Fate, winners will get to choose from any of my three books. I will hold the random drawing on Friday, October 30. Five winners will be notified by email. Winners must respond to my email to receive their free book. So let your friends know about the Antonius Trilogy so they can subscribe and participate, too!

This week, I'm introducing a superpower in the East that rivaled Rome in greatness and mystique. The Parthian Empire lay beyond the Tigris and Euphrates Rivers in what is now Iraq and Iran. I'll begin this tale in 53 BC with the wealthy Marcus Licinius Crassus, who was a part of the First Triumvirate at the time, along with Julius Caesar, and Pompeius Magnus. 

Despite his wealth, Crassus lacked what both his colleagues possessed--military prowess. Since the Parthians were causing trouble along Rome's newly conquered Syrian borders, the Senate agreed that Crassus would be the man to lead legionary force into Parthia to subdue them, once and for all. Crassus was delighted at his appointment, for now he'd get his chance at flexing military muscle. His son, Marcus Licinius the Younger was notified immediately, as Dad wanted him to join his campaign. Crassus the Younger was serving with Caesar at the time in Gaul, and was considered a capable officer. However, Caesar released him from command to join his father.

Crassus's campaign was disastrous, ending at a stronghold called Carrhae. Parthians used cavalry in their method of warfare. These horsemen, known as cataphracts--were armored and could fire arrows from both in front and behind their mounts. They were incredible riders, and their skill was known throughout the Roman world as being formidable. Though the stele above at the right shows a cataphract wielding a spear instead of bows and arrows, his horsemanship is obvious. He's using both hands to manage his weapon while riding and confronting the lion, controlling his horse with leg cues. Pretty phenomenal!

Both Crassus and his son were killed at Carrhae, as was most of his army, leaving very few survivors. It is believed that prisoners were taken into Media and held at Phraaspa, along with Crassus's captured legionary standards--a big hit to Roman pride. Julius Caesar planned on taking up Crassus's campaign after he finished off the last of his civil wars. However, only days from his departure to head East on what may have been another Caesarian victory, history intervened upon the Ides of March.

Thus, it was Marcus Antonius who picked up the torch to vanquish the Parthians. Before he even began his campaign, Parthians and their allies began more incursions along the Syrian and Armenian borders. This strife caught Antonius at a difficult time--during more civil strife in Italy that involved both his wife Fulvia and his brother, Lucius Antonius. Needless to say, it added much fuel to the fire in his quest to conquer the Parthians.

It was vital that Antonius have loyal allies at his back. He was far from Rome and his dealings with Octavian by this time had been shaded with bitter rivalry. He couldn't expect much support from him. For several years now, Antonian constituents had courted the favors of Artavasdes II of Armenia (see coin at left). This king had an artistic flair for play-writing and some of his works were popular throughout the Hellenized East. In his account on Antonius's life, Plutarch states that Artavasdes gave to Antonius "... six thousand horse and seven thousand foot..." However, while passing through Media, Artavasdes betrayed Antonius, resulting in a dreadful massacre.

For his part, Antonius did make it farther into Media than Crassus did. This was probably due to his route, as he had access to Caesar's original plans, which it is commonly believed he used. However, due to insurmountable problems, partly due to Artavasdes's betrayal, he was forced to turn back after making it as far as Phraaspa, the heart of Media, which (at that point) was 100% loyal to Parthia.  furnished six thousand horse and seven thousand foot" 

​Unfortunately for Antonius, this is where things went south. Though the mercurial King Phraates of Media (coin at right) assured the Romans that they'd be allowed to leave without pursuit, his assurance was nothing but lie. Median and Parthian cataphracts pursued the Romans on a daily basis, hounding them like the Furies.

Antonius's "escape" from Parthia will be a highlight in Antonius: Soldier of Fate, and both of these royal despots will make appearances in my story.

To close, I'm sharing a map (below) which will be featured in my third book, designed by Cathie Helms of Avalon Graphics. It shows the route both in and out of Parthia that Antonius is believed to have taken. Imagine traversing this distance as a Roman legionary--on foot--carrying a kit of 50-60 pounds, and being harassed night and day by mounted archers. In closing, I'll add that Rome never did "best" Parthia with their military. Eventually, it was Augustus's negotiations that finally returned the lost standards to Rome, not military might. 

Be sure to share my Giveaway details with friends. Encourage them to join the Antonius adventure online and subscribe to my website, here at brookallenauthor.com. There will be FIVE WINNERS!!!
​

Before launching into this week's blog, I want to be sure everybody is aware that the Kindle edition of my upcoming book, Antonius: Soldier of Fate is now available for PRE-ORDER on Amazon. For those readers interested in print copies, I will let everyone know when they are available for pre-order, as well. Hopefully in a few weeks. 

This week, I'm delighted to introduce the antagonist of my story: Gaius Octavian Caesar Augustus. This humble-looking bust at right is Octavian at a very young age--probably around the time of Julius Caesar's assassination and Octavian's ascension into the world of politics. He would have been nineteen or twenty years old. I've always loved seeing this work, found at the Capitoline Museum, for it captures Octavian at his most vulnerable--before he assumed absolute power. It's also much more veristic, unlike the Augustan art following his principate, which is idealistic--more like Classical Greek sculpture. Unfortunately, this one is a difficult piece to photograph, for it's high up on a shelf about four feet above my own height, and whenever I'm there and attempt a picture, I wind up wishing for a ladder!

In my story, it's never easy to reveal Octavian's pleasing traits, since he was Antonius's enemy, and my books are all from Antonius's point of view. So this blog is an opportunity to sing Octavian's praises, for my story reveals some of his ruthless cruelty all too well.

​The stunning aureus at left was minted by some of Antonius's constituents in 41 BC. This was right after the Battle of Philippi and the fall of Brutus and Cassius, when Antonius chose the East and Octavian chose to remain in the West. Again, this beautiful coin depicts Octavian when he was extremely young--still getting his feet wet in the political scene.

Octavian's father died in his early youth and his mother, Atia, remarried Lucius Marcius Philippus. Young Octavian maintained close ties to his stepfather, but when Philippus encouraged him to reject his inheritance from Julius Caesar, Octavian refused to do so.

As great nephew to Caesar, it's unclear how close he was to the Dictator. However, Caesar obviously valued him. Around the time of his Triumphs in 45 BC, Caesar either visited Octavian in his ill health or sent trusted colleagues in his place. Yes,Octavian suffered a great deal of his life from un-named maladies. Whether they were severe allergies, asthma, or maybe malaria, the young man just wasn't healthy. As a result, he never excelled at the same physical training as most men of his social status. Perhaps it was due to this that he befriended a young man of his own age, who would serve him faithfully and remain close to him through middle age--Marcus Vipsanius Agrippa--a man who did have the martial skills needed to help Octavian rise to prominence. 

Allow me to apologize for the poor photo at right. However, I wanted to include it because it helped me immensely in my own portrayal of Octavian. Taken from primary sources, Anthony Everitt, in his fabulous Augustus: The Life of Rome's First Emperor, describes the future emperor: 

"He was not very tall, perhaps only five feet, six inches, but, writes Suetonius, 'with body and limbs so beautifully proportioned, one did not realize how small a man he was, unless someone tall stood close to him.' He had near-blond curly hair, small teeth, and clear, bright eyes."

Inside the phenomenal collection at the Vatican Museum, resides a statue that Classicists visit as though it was Mecca. The Prima-Porta Augustus is one of the sublime examples of Augustan art--for indeed, it was crafted during the years when Octavian--having been named Augustus (exalted one) by the Senate, was at the height of his power. It found a home inside a villa at Prima Porta, Italy, where his wife, the Empress Livia, had a villa. One can still see the spot where historians believe it once rested. Among the many artistic analyses the Prima Porta Augustus has endured, one was especially fascinating. It's no secret that ancient statuary were painted--sometimes garishly. The Prima Porta Augustus was no different from any other statue, and fortunately, enough tiny flakes of pigment remained for art historians to determine what the statue's colors were like in ancient times. Though Everitt's description, based upon Suetonius, described him as "blond", I chose to give my Octavian strawberry-blond hair, based upon this recreation.

It took me three visits to Rome before I finally stood before Octavian's Prima Porta presence. The first two trips (frustrated me!) left me behind barriers within the Vatican Museum that had been closed off to guests. Last year, was my best shot at it of any, as it had finally been opened and I got to view it within its original niche in the building. The photo I took bears testimony to what a spectacular piece it is. 

Octavian was big on symbolism in his rule. He gave tax-breaks to Romans who married and had multiple children, frowned on extra-marital affairs (even though he had them himself, and so did members of his family), and he glorified the god Apollo and the deity's many symbols, for he believed Apollo bestowed upon him the right to lead the Roman state. 

I have spent years analyzing this unique, gifted, yet cold and calculating man, who had oft-times been near death in his early years. Octavian struggled for supremacy against Antonius, and finally lived on to lead Rome through her Pax Romana--the great Augustan peace, I found that his most powerful advantage had been his dearest motto: "festina lente"-- "hasten slowly". But another of his assets was that Octavian was the original spin-doctor. His greatest power over people was his willingness to use rhetoric (and often lies) in the Senate to turn the tables on his enemies--and his greatest enemy was Antonius. Whether it was manipulating the Roman Senate to his favor, or using a declaration of war to appear as the savior of his country, Octavian was truly a prince of propaganda. 

​One of my favorite museums in Rome is the Palazzo Massimo--a museum of ancient Roman civilization. Inside is another likeness of Octavian--the Pious Augustus. This statue captures Octavian Augustus at worship to the Roman gods. If the hands had not been broken, perhaps they would have held a small plate of offerings. One clue as to what he was doing is that his head was covered. Ancient Romans often covered their heads in worship or grief. And Octavian liked to appear as the "traditional" Roman against Antonius's free thinking.

In 14 AD, following a good forty years of successful rule of Rome's Empire, which virtually paved the way for western civilization, Octavian Augustus took ill at Capri. He and Livia returned to Neapolis (Naples) and there, it is believed that Livia poisoned some figs, which he ate. Most likely, she did this so that her own son, Tiberius, could become the next "Caesar". And he did, beginning more tumultuous years of terror and violence which would ever haunt the Julio-Claudian dynasty.

Octavian Augustus died, just inside from the garden where a fig-tree stood, the fruit of which had been poisoned by his wife. Truly, he'd brought Rome out of the horror of one-hundred years of civil war. However, Rome was to be ruled by one man for the rest of her preeminence as a super-power in the Mediterranean. Buried in the tumulus he had started building while Antonius was still his rival, the Tomb of Augustus is still standing today, and has been undergoing recent renovations in anticipation of a celebration in the Emperor's honor. I look forward to going there upon my next visit. 

Rome's first emperor was titled "princeps", meaning "first citizen". Despite his many building projects, level-headed governance, and his claim that "I found Rome built of clay: but I leave it in marble," Octavian's earlier years had been drenched in the blood of those who he had conquered, many of them innocent souls.

As I begin this week's blog, I'd like to thank my incredible web-designer, Michelle Gill. Last week, my homepage got a much-needed updating and as always, Michelle did a phenomenal job. I send her my appreciation and I know readers will be drawn in by her professional and detailed designing.

I know a lot of people have been awaiting this week's blog post. Not a century that has passed without artists, dramatists, and writers being captivated by Cleopatra VII. It's incredible really, how one woman has held court from the grave and commanded such mystery, commentary, argument, and creativity about her life's history.

At right, is a bust, believed to be of Cleopatra. Indeed it resembles coin images. There are many misconceptions about her, and perhaps the most common, is that she was Egyptian, for she was not. After the death of Alexander the Great in 323 BC, one of his generals--Ptolemy--won the right (in 321 BC) to bury Alexander in Egypt--in a city the deceased Macedonian founded--Alexandria. So on the northern coast along the Mediterranean Sea, Ptolemy I, by then called Soter (savior), built a magnificent tomb for Alexander's mummified remains, called the Soma. It has never been found, and probably remains hidden beneath Alexandria's tall modern-day buildings.  

Cleopatra, born some three-hundred years later in 69 BC, was Ptolemy Soter's descendant and fated to be the last reigning Pharaoh of Egypt. Her father was Ptolemy XII, Auletes--the flute-player. He wasn't a very impressive king, and when his people rebelled in favor of his daughter, Berenice (Cleo's older sibling), he fled to Rome, pleading for help. He was known for his love of music, art, and flute-playing. Apparently, he fared better in the arts than in ruling his country! 

During this time, his famous daughter, Cleopatra, was an adolescent and probably afraid for her life. She remained in peril, either by her sisters or younger brother (another Ptolemy) along with his advisors, until Julius Caesar visited Egypt shortly after his victory over Gnaeus Pompeius Magnus. Whatever ever else happened between them, two things are certain. Cleopatra became pregnant AND gained the throne of Egypt with Caesar's backing. Her brother, unwilling to take her as his Queen (Ptolemies had continued the nasty habit of incest), fought Caesar and lost on an epic scale.

A great deal of what we know about Cleopatra VII comes to us from a man who lived over one-hundred years after she did. His name was Plutarch, and he wrote a huge compilation of biographies that classicists cling to, since they delve into the personal histories of ancient Roman men such as Antonius, Caesar, Cicero, Sertorius, Brutus... I could go on and on. If you've never read Plutarch's Lives, this collection is fairly easy-reading and very eye-opening. It's a great way to begin interest in Classics. The bulk of Cleopatra's story is told in the Life of Antonius. And it's interesting that Plutarch says this: 

"For her actual beauty, it is said, was not in itself so remarkable that none could be compared with her, or that no one could see her without being struck by it, but the contact of her presence, if you lived with her, was irresistible, the attraction of her person, joining with the charm of her conversation, and the character that attended all she said or did, was something bewitching. It was a pleasure merely to hear the sound of her voice, with which, like an instrument of many strings, she could pass from one language to another..." Life of Antonius, Plutarch.

​At left is Cleopatra portrayed as an Egyptian queen. If one looks at her coinage or many of the other busts which historians believe to be her likeness, you won't find very "Egyptian-looking" portrayals. We must remember that by the time of her reign, the Greco-Roman world was far more influential than that of Egypt. Her everyday attire probably reflected more of a Greek look, though archaeologists in Alexandria are finding that much architecture, art, and religious beliefs in Ptolemaic Egypt were blendings of styles. Alexandria and Rome were "global" communities as are New York, London, and other large cities today. However, there were obviously times when it was important for the Queen to "play the part" of an Egyptian in both custom, ceremony, and attire. There are a number of statues and busts, similar to this one, portraying her as truly Egyptian. 

And there is plenty of evidence that, unlike many of her forbears in the Ptolemaic Dynasty, Cleopatra was anxious to show the Egyptian people in Upper Egypt--the country's real natives--that she cared for them deeply. She was the only Ptolemaic ruler to learn the ancient Egyptian tongue and speak it fluently. It was just another language, as she was particularly astute in languages--speaking at least seven! 

​Though Octavian Augustus tried to suppress it, the Egypto-mania that resulted in the Roman world after the Augustan Age began was NOT part of his plan. Cleopatra's reign, her influence, and religious beliefs (the cult of Isis had an enormous following in Rome, despite its initial banning) became so popular that it bled into Roman art. 

This wall-painting from a wealthy home in Pompeii is believed to be Cleopatra. It resembles some of her busts and coins, along with Cleopatra-esque jewelry and the hairstyle that she made famous during her lifetime. The painting's subject is also wearing a white diadem on her head, indicative of Eastern royalty of the period.

Other art proving Egypt's popularity among the Romans included Nilotic scenes, capturing reed marshes, very much like Lake Mareotis near Alexandria. Such works would always incorporate ibis, crocodiles, and other fauna that suggest Egypt.

It's poignant that Cleopatra became such a fascination to the Romans AFTER her death, for she was much hated by them during her lifetime. One of the nails in Julius Caesar's coffin was allegedly the likeness of her he installed in his brand new Temple of Venus Genetrix. He actually had the cult-statue of the Temple modeled off of Cleopatra herself during her visit to Rome! It wasn't long after the Temple's dedication that Brutus and Cassius started putting their heads together to plan the Ides of March.

When I visited Egypt back in 2008, I spent nearly a full week in Alexandria, and seeing some of the actual places where Antonius and Cleopatra went--not to mention Caesar and Cleopatra, too, was sensational. At left is a photo I snapped of Lake Mareotis (Lake Mariout), where Plutarch records Cleopatra taking Antonius fishing. Today, Lake Mareotis has become infested with a lot of plant-life, which wasn't the case two-thousand years ago. It was much larger in ancient times--more open and grandiose-looking, but still a real thrill for this author to be able to see.

 








For my last image, I happened on this brilliant sketch by A.M. Faulkner who was an illustrator for publications in the Edwardian Age. I thought the detail was stunning, and was struck by how much "blending" there was between the Egyptian and Greco-Roman styles here. The Queen's throne looks Imperial Roman, but one can clearly see hieroglyphics on the palace walls behind it. Her guards at the top of the stairs wear armor that looks like something between Egyptian and Hellenism. I felt Faulkner NAILED it!

Here, Cleopatra is welcoming Antonius to her court, which I simply couldn't resist. 

Below, I'm sharing something else extra-special. My cover-designer, Jenny Quinlan has out-done herself on my next book's cover and I'm mighty pleased with it. Antonius: Soldier of Fate will launch on Friday, October 16th! Pre-orders should begin in the next few weeks, so I will let everyone know once they're available. 

​In the meantime, READ ON!

​At last: the Antonius Trilogy’s riveting conclusion…                             
 
Antonius: Soldier of Fate
 
Marcus Antonius has it all—power, prestige, a heroic military reputation among his countrymen, and the love of Queen Cleopatra. But as master of Rome’s eastern provinces and kingdoms, he must maintain peace, and in so doing, sacrifices his own happiness, yoked within a loveless marriage and an eroding alliance. As his colleague Octavian’s star rises, Marcus must compete with his rival’s success, though it leads to an embittered struggle threatening to end their unity.
 
Once Marcus finally takes matters into his own hands, his fate becomes tied to the east—far from Rome and his seat of power, to a horrific campaign that will forever alter him. He is a man torn between two countries and two families, and ultimately—a soldier fated to be the catalyst transforming Rome from Republic to Empire.

​Welcome to Brook's Scroll this week! 

First, I have a thrilling announcement. This week, my debut novel, Antonius: Son of Rome was awarded a SILVER MEDAL in the international Readers' Favorite Book Reviewers Awards for 2020. This award was in the sub-genre of Biographical Historical Fiction, and I'm humbled and honored, as thousands of authors entered this competition. 

Now, let's get to the blog!!!

Because I have two very important ladies to cover, I'm going to address both Octavia and Cleopatra one at a time. Today is Octavia's day. To the left, you'll see a bust of her that probably dates from around the time of her marriage with Antonius. 

Octavia was born in Nola, Italy in 67 BC. Within the gens Julii, she was known as Octavia Minora (the Younger), for she had an older sister by the same name. (Roman names are horrible things for authors to wrestle with!) 

Octavian was her full brother and their mother's name was Atia. And here, I must add that if ever a woman's character was maligned by a series depiction on television, HBO's series ROME treated Atia of the Julii horrendously! But I digress... Octavia's father died, and Atia remarried Lucius Marcius Philippus. 

Sometime around 52 BC, Octavia married Gaius Claudius Marcellus. She was to give him two daughters and a son, posthumously. There must have been some pretty tense family dynamics going on, because Marcellus was fiercely anti-Caesarian. He opposed Julius Caesar staunchly and Philippus was inclined to side with him politically, too. So it's rather intriguing that Julius Caesar remained so very fond of this side of his family. At one point, Caesar made a long-distance offer to Pompeius Magnus of marriage to Octavia, with one small obstacle in the way. She was already married to Marcellus. Marcellus haughtily refused Caesar's plan, refusing to divorce here, and there was probably a juicy scandal, quickly smoothed over by Pompeius, who promptly married another lady, Cornelia.

I find this particular Octavia bust striking, because it shows how much she resembled her brother, Octavian (below at right). ​She was six years his senior and it makes me wonder how awkward it would have been for her once Marcellus died and suddenly she came under her brother's umbrella of control. 

I can't imagine she was pleased to marry Marcus Antonius. First of all, at the time of their betrothal, she was still in mourning, and so was he. Fulvia had recently died, leaving him widowed. Their marriage was signed and sealed when Antonius returned to Italy after his first fling with Cleopatra (more on her NEXT week!). 

But there was more. Not only was Octavia in mourning--she was PREGNANT with Marcellus's child and her delivery was imminent. Undoubtedly, she was coerced into marrying Antonius. And it's likely that he had little choice in the matter, as he was responsible, along with Octavian, for preserving peace, and this was Octavian's demand to seal their alliance at the Treaty of Brundisium. 

Plutarch's account, of course, is festive and full of joyful celebration, probably much like the Roman people felt at the time: 

"Everybody concurred in promoting this new alliance, fully expecting that with the beauty, honor, and prudence of Octavia, when her company should, as it was certain it would, have engaged his (Antonius's) affections, all would be kept in the safe and happy course of friendship. So, both parties being agreed, they went to Rome to celebrate the nuptials; the senate dispensing with the law by which a widow was not permitted to marry till ten months after the death of her husband."  
​     Plutarch, Life of Antony

I love coins! My father was a numismatist, so I think my affinity for them is genetic. Anyway, I love this coin, featuring Antonius and Octavia after they were wed. Look at her likeness for a moment, then scroll back up to the bust at the top of the page. She's wearing the same flipped back hairstyle and I think bears many of the similar features as in the marble. 

The coin here mentions that Antonius was both Imperator and Consul. Being hailed "Imperator" by one's legions was the highest accolade a Roman general could achieve on the field. And the consular title was the highest office in Rome, though by this time, the Republic was no longer holding regular elections. The powers that be--in this case, the Second Triumvirate--of which Antonius was a senior member at the time, gave him the "right" to declare the consulship.

Octavia and Marcus Antonius spent a good three years together. For about a year and a half, they lived in Rome proper, but then Antonius had to head east again to prepare for his invasion of Parthia (modern day Iran/Iraq). His operations at that time were located in Athens, and the Greek people loved Octavia and ancient sources state that the couple spent a very happy, but short interlude there. Sometime before they left Rome or shortly after arriving in Greece, Octavia bore Antonius the first of their two daughters. Both were named Antonia (more confusion for this author to differentiate in her story!). 

There were plenty of tense moments in Octavia's is marriage for alliance--not so much between Octavia and Antonius, but between Antonius and her brother. Things began to unravel shortly after their sojourn in Athens, when Antonius headed back to the East again, Octavia returned to Rome with the children, who included his two sons by Fulvia, Fulvia's children by Clodius, and Octavia's children by Marcellus, along with the two Antonias. This turned out to be the marriage's "fork in the road" and where I shall end Octavia's story, in the hope that you'll want to continue it in my next book. 

So what do we have left of Octavia besides a few coins or busts? Believe it or not, there is a ruin in Rome that Octavian built in her honor, the remnants of which can still be seen today. 

​This is the Portico of Octavia (red brick arch at right), which Octavian built in honor of his sister sometime after 27 BC. There was a lovely colonnade behind the Portico, connecting existing Temples to Jupiter and Juno, along with the magnificent Theater of Marcellus (also still standing). Marcellus, if you recall, was Octavia's son by her first husband, and he completed the theater which had been started by Julius Caesar before his assassination. Sadly, Marcellus died prematurely and suspiciously, too. In her grief, it's believed that Octavia built the library in memory of her son.

Octavia will be an integral character in my upcoming book!

I'm so excited about the next few weeks of blogging! I have some amazing guests with fascinating material and upcoming books to share. Also, I'll be sharing more about my own book--Antonius: Soldier of Fate, which launches on Friday, October 16th! Next week, we're headed for Alexandria, Egypt for an intimate look at HER MAJESTY, Cleopatra VII Philopater! See you then and READ ON!

Hello, readers!

I'm delighted to begin a series of blogs which will support content in my next book, Antonius: Soldier of Fate--the final book in the Antonius Trilogy. Today, I'll be sharing a little about Marcus Antonius's first three wives: Fadia, Antonia, and Fulvia Bambula.

Not much is known about Fadia--wife #1. She has certainly proven herself to be a favorite character in Son of Rome, though. Every reader loves her! Cicero is the only primary source that mentions Fadia, and it was in an assault against Antonius, in one of  fourteen speeches, known as the Philippics. So what do we know about her? First, she was the daughter of a freedman, Quintus Fadius. Whether or not she was actually a slave within the domus Antonii is unknown. Some Classicists suggest that perhaps Fadius was a man of great wealth and that Antonius chose the marriage to assist in his great debt. However, that cannot be proven, so it was delightful coming up with my own material concerning her.

Fadia and Antonius may have been parents, as Cicero mentions it, but if so, both mother and children were dead by the end of 44 BC. It is not impossible that she may have been a slave in the domus Antonii, as was the case in my novel, Son of Rome. 

High-born ladies, such as Julia Antonia, Antonius's mother, would indeed have had slave women to dress them, do their hair, make-up, and even accompany them shopping, the baths, or to cater to their needs at dinner-parties. As depicted in Sir Lawrence Alma-tadema's rich painting at right, "The Frigidarium", personal slaves, attached to wealthy nobles would have been at their disposal night and day.

Many question why Antonius would have married Fadia, since he was of a noble family and she was the daughter of a former slave. We'll probably never know his motives, so it was a fun thing upon which to build my story. Did they love one another? Were there children? Was there an awful tragedy as I wrote into my story in Son of Rome? Some scholars don't believe they were married at all and that Fadia may have simply been Antonius's first great love-affair.

​It is well-known that Antonia Hybrida (daughter of Marcus Antonius's uncle, Gaius Antonius Hybrida) was Antonius's first marriage to a noble lady. Antonia was also his first cousin. Though we consider such marriages incestuous in our culture today, Romans in the 1st century BC allowed the practice. However, they frowned upon unions to any closer blood relatives than that. 

Antonius's marriage to his cousin probably took place after his first adventures in the East as a cavalry officer under Gabinius. They remained married at least until after Caesar's victory at Alesia (52 BC). Alledgedly, Antonia formed a romantic relationship with Publius Dolabella. He and Antonius probably endured a rather stormy relationship, since Dolabella was married to Tullia, the daughter of Cicero, who was already at odds with the Antonii by that time. It's unclear exactly when, but once Antonius learned of the affair, he promptly divorced his cousin. Together, Antonius and Antonia had a daughter--another Antonia! (I swear the ancient Romans had ZERO imagination whatsoever when it came to names!)

At right, is a coin bearing the likeness of Fulvia Bambula, the 3rd wife of Marcus Antonius. Interestinly enough, it is the first coin bearing the profile of a mortal woman in Roman coinage. I say "mortal", as it was common practice to place representations of female deities on coinage.

Fulvia was first married to Publius Clodius, the politician and well-known riot-monger of Rome's late Republic. Cicero claimed in his Phillipics that Antonius was having an affair with Fulvia. (In my book Second in Command, she is the one who actually makes moves on him!) And there was a recorded altercation between Antonius and Clodius in the Forum Romanum (again mentioned in Cicero's Philippics.)


After Milo murdered Clodius, it wasn't long before Fulvia remarried another one of Antonius's colleagues--Gaius Scribonius Curio, the younger. When Antonius finally married her after Curio's death, he indeed had a wife of noble lineage, as Fulvia could boast descent from the famous Punic War hero Scipio Africanus. 

Like her heroic ancestor, Fulvia had no interest in household matters, though such was expected of women. She enjoyed being around men who wielded power, so as Antonius rose to prominence at Caesar's side she was undoubtedly involved in many aspects of his career. Possibly too much so, as was revealed while Antonius was in Egypt in 41-40 BC, when she and Antonius's brother Lucius Antonius were involved in the siege at Perusia. 

Fulvia was the mother of Marcus Antonius's Roman heir, named for his father but called "Antyllus". She also bore him a second son, Iullus Antonius. Iullus is mentioned in my final book, but his fate was as tragic as his father's. He fell into a romantic relationship with Octavian Augustus's daughter, Julia. When Augustus learned of this, he had Iullus imprisoned and the young man chose suicide. Fulvia's eventual fate was also tragic, and is an integral scene in my last book in the trilogy, Antonius: Soldier of Fate.

Next week, I'll be sharing about two very important ladies who share leading roles in Antonius's later life: Octavia and Cleopatra VII, Philopater. I hope you'll join me next week to learn a few fun-facts about both of them! In the meantime, READ ON and I'll be sharing my big cover reveal SOON!

It is hard to believe, but I've been an author for nearly a year and a half and it's been the most incredible experience. Researching, traveling WHILE researching, meeting new people, teaching workshops, brushing up on public speaking, seeing things from unique perspectives, and learning how to BE an author. Thank you for following me on this adventure, because that's truly what it is--a rip-roaring ADVENTURE!

In just two months, I will be done with the Antonius Trilogy. My final book (be sure to scroll all the way to the bottom for my first tiny portion of the cover reveal!) will launch on Friday, October 16th. And I CAN'T WAIT to share it with you! I will be announcing another giveaway soon, so be sure to keep an eye out on the website.

One of the most difficult things for me to embrace as an author is to stir up "buzz" about myself. I've never been very comfortable in that department. However, it's part of the game, and though I try to present blogs that are scholarly, interesting, and full of information about my books' period or characters, I feel I also need to share occasionally about myself.

Recently, a Twitter friend, contemporary romance author Elizabeth N. Harris from the UK, offered to interview me. I figured this was perfect timing, since I'd been needing to share a little more about "moi" on my blog in lieu of the upcoming book, so I accepted her kind offer. Here is my interview with her. I hope you'll get a few extra details from it about both my work and my background. 

Elizabeth: Hello! Welcome to the Author of the Week Page, where I interview Indie Authors, This week's Author of the Week is the interesting and wonderful Brook Allen. ​Hi Brook, welcome, let's start with what books you've written.​

Brook: The Antonius Trilogy: Antonius: Son of Rome & Antonius: Second in Command. My third and final book in this trilogy is due to launch on Friday, October 16th.​

Elizabeth: Tell me a little about yourself, see we're all nosy here!

Brook: First off, thanks so much for having me, Elizabeth. I’m a professional musician in my day-job and with rehearsals and performances, it takes up a lot of my time. Unfortunately, due to COVID-19, there haven’t been many concerts or music lessons lately. Hopefully, things will be back to normal soon. My husband and I live with our two black Labradors in a rural community in Virginia’s beautiful, Blue Ridge Mountains.​

Elizabeth: I had to look those up Brook, they are really beautiful. What got you into writing?

Brook: I’ve been writing off and on since high school. However, after I focused on Roman Studies while going to grad school, I started the Antonius Trilogy. It’s been a labour of love now for over fifteen years and it’s hard to believe I’ll be done by the end of October. That means new projects, though. I’m looking forward to that!​

Elizabeth: That sounds interesting, who is your favourite author, and why?
 
Brook: Margaret George is my favourite author. She is truly the grande-dame of historical fiction in the US, and her characters are so varied. What a career this lady has had, from reaching the acclaim of being a NYT Bestselling Author to appearing live on a celebration honouring Garth Brooks. Her book, The Memoirs of Cleopatra led me to write my Antonius Trilogy. Best of all, she’s been my mentor along the way.
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Elizabeth: She sounds like a wonderful mentor. Who encouraged you the most to write?
 
Brook: My parents encouraged me first. I won some awards in high school for my writing. Then came my husband who has slipped into their shoes of being my cheerleader. Lastly, Margaret George’s encouragement, advice, and endorsement have been a great honour and joy to have.
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Elizabeth: How wonderful you've had so much support, Brook. Are you as avid a reader as a writer?
 
Brook: I try to be. It’s been an easy role to slip into during these months of the pandemic. However, when I’m working full-time in my day-job, it’s pretty much impossible to both read a lot and WRITE novels. I look forward to retiring so I can focus on writing like I’ve been able to do during these months of the pandemic.

 
Welcome to this week's blog! We are going to finish up my series on Roman Music and starting next week, I'll be featuring tidbits of material which will be included in my last book in the Antonius Trilogy, which will hopefully launch on Friday, October 16th.

It's time to focus on ancient Roman brass instruments, which were popular in gladiatorial games and the military. 

First, let's talk about the bucina or cornu. I have to state that these terms may be used interchangeably, and it is unclear whether they were one and the same instrument or two separate ones. 

The relief at right is in Osuna, Spain and is actually a copy of an original housed in the National Archaeological Museum, Madrid. Though this bucinator (horn player) is not mounted, there is evidence from other funerary steles suggesting that by the late 1st century BC or early 1st century AD, the bucina was used in association with cavalry units. But they were also used in camp life, probably to signal wake-up calls or meal-times.

​During my visit with Walter Maioli of the ensemble, Synaulia, Maioli showed me a reconstructed bucina/cornu that his ensemble uses. Like with today's brass instruments, a player must have a very firm embouchure--taut muscles around one's lips which help produce the tone. The instrument itself was made of bronze, as Roman ones would have been, however, it was surprisingly light-weight. It's certainly easy to see where later instruments such as hunting horns and eventually the French horn got their overall appearance.

I was able to locate some bucina sound samples, but you'll need to pare away some light percussion and tibiae (woodwinds) in the mix. The bucinae are surprisingly mellow--very much the way a well-played French Horn player sounds. However, keep in mind that there are no valves whatsoever, so it's the embouchure that firms up or loosens around the player's mouth to change the pitch. What you'll hear will have some intonation problems to the western ear, but one has to be impressed at the precision that might have been achieved on this ancient wind instrument: ​https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7RFHor-CP-0

Strangely, the funerary stele to the left is described as the Stele of the Bucinator, A. Surus. Maybe Surus forgot his bucina that day, or it's possible the inscription was simply incorrect, because he's portrayed holding a tuba--the ancient Roman trumpet. Please don't bother to ask why the modern tuba is named thus, because I have no idea how that came to be. But the tuba of ancient times was similar to a Medieval or Renaissance herald trumpet. It had no valves, and how any of these brass instruments were tuned, or whether they had standard sizes is all open to conjecture.

As was the bucina, the tuba was used in both gladiatorial games and in the military and was the preferred instrument for signaling large units of men on the battlefield. Along with their fellow bucinatores, tubicines (trumpet-players), eventually formed a collegium or guild. 

In my research, I was able to locate several references in ancient sources, in which the tuba was mentioned. One pertains to the moment in time when Sulla stormed Athens: 
     Upon entering Athens, Sulla used his tubicines to signal his army into the city, but, due to the nature of the text, it is obvious that there was an enormous intimidation factor involved if one considers all this noise taking place at midnight. The Athenians must have experienced mass panic.
     When they had thrown down the wall, and made all level betwixt the Piraic and Sacred Gate, about midnight, Sulla entered the breach, with all the terrors of trumpets and cornets sounding, with the triumphant shout and cry of an army let loose to spoil and slaughter, and scouring through the streets with swords drawn... Plutarch, Vit. Sull. 619.

The second reference will feature as part of the story in my next book, Antonius: Soldier of Fate. Following the Battle of Actium, Antonius sailed to the northern coast of Africa in Cyrene, attempting to gather more legionary support:
     "...he did not go thither, but proceeded against Gallus (in Cyrene), in the hope of winning over the troops without a struggle, if possible, inasmuch as they had been with him on campaigns and were fairly well disposed toward him, but otherwise of subduing them by force, since he was leading against them a large force both of ships and of infantry. Nevertheless, he was unable even to talk with them, although he approached their ramparts and raised a mighty shout; for Gallus ordered his trumpeters to sound their instruments all together and gave no one a chance to hear a word." Cassius Dio, 51.9.

​In Rome, another magnificent frieze bears testimony to the use of the tuba. This time, the instrument was used in Titus's military triumph over Judaea. In the photo at right, the long tubae are easy to make-out, decorously crossed in front of the menorah, pillaged from the Temple of Herod in Jerusalem.

I am providing another Synaulia recording so that you're able to hear the tuba--the Roman trumpet on recreated instruments, which Maioli built. This recording is called "Imperium" and also features several other instruments we've covered. Listen for the "oom-pahs" of the softer bucina, and the shrill voices of the tibicines which join in midway through. 
​     Imperium: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Eg5DKkDJ1X4 

Salvete, everyone! I hope you're enjoying the dog days of summer. This week I have the joy of introducing you to a very special friend of mine. Silvia Prosperi is a modern-day Roman! She was born and raised in the city and knows it like the back of her hand. She has assisted me with research, with seeing specific sites (I'll let her tell you more about that herself), and has given me much insight as to how the late Republican Forum was arranged. So hang on to your arm-chairs, because we're taking a virtual visit to Italy!
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One of the concepts I often find myself conveying to my guests during my tours in Rome (where I’ve  worked as a tour guide for 11 years) is that Rome today is just a city, but in the ancient times it was “an idea”.

Rome started as a city and extended well beyond its borders enlarging the idea itself of Rome. When a Roman citizen was in Spain or Syria, for instance, he was not feeling like a stranger and needed no “passport”, all these far Provinces were in fact still Rome to him.

The aspect of these cities and countries was in fact not too different from the capital he had left several weeks earlier: fora, baths, cobbled roads, aqueducts, theatres and amphitheatres, “tabernae” and the domus could be found everywhere, and also coins and languages were the same as he’d use at home. The first globalized world!

One weird consequence of this fact is that many “roman” emperors where in fact not born in Rome. Caludius for instance, was born in France, in modern Lyon, at the time called Lugdunum, while Trajan and Hadrian were from Spain. And what about Septimius Severus, who was from Leptis Magna, in current Libya, and consequently not white, but African? But they were not seen as “imposters”, they were Romans to all intents and purposes!
 
Another side effect of this globalized concept is that you do not find roman buildings only in Rome, but in many other countries. And obviously it is easy to “find Rome” just outside its walls, as I like to do with my guests when Rome is too crowded (though it’s not been a problem this summer of 2020—but usually it is!) 

Here is a list of my ten favorite spots, where we're headed, right now, for a quick virtual tour:
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​Appian Way: just outside the Aurelian Walls you’ll find seven miles of preserved ancient road surrounded by important Roman remains, above and underground. The stadium of Maxentius, the mausoleum of Caecilia Metella, Christian and Jewish catacombs are just some of the attractions of this open air museum, and I like to reach them by horse, totally forgetting about modernity.

​Park of the Aqueducts:  a little further on the way south of Rome you start seeing the arches of five ancient aqueducts scattered in the fields which is now a public park. It is amazing how runners and picnic sets live side by side, next to amazing structures of the first century BC and AD, one of the best legacies the Romans left us.

​“Castelli Romani”: the Appian way takes you straight into a series of hilly towns that ancient Romans liked for breezes during the summer. An ancient theatre in abandoned Tusculum (photo at right), the sanctuary dedicated to the goddess Diana on Lake Nemi, the castra and water tanks in Albano are all traces of the Roman past here.

​Hadrian’s Villa: on the eastern side of Rome you find the important town of Tivoli, famous for its travertine quarries still mined today (the blocks used to build the Colosseum came from here) and for the huge villa the emperor Hadrian built for himself to manage the Empire in a more relaxing environment.

Tiberius’ villa: going south you reach Sperlonga, where another emperor, Tiberius, prepared a wonderful residence directly on the Tyrrhenian sea. A summer triclinium (a banqueting hall) was created inside a grotto decorated with statues of Ulysses. Not far from Sperlonga, lies the town of Terracina dominated by the remains of the panoramic temple of Jupiter Anxur. The main piazza of the city is still the original marble pavement of the ancient forum and you can sit there at a table for gelato or a cup of coffee. 

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​Norba: this is a hidden jewel, a republican city destroyed during the civil war between Marius and Sulla and consequently abandoned. It dominates the valley over the Pontine Plain and a sense of archaic atmosphere surrounds you. 

​Subiaco: this town is more famous for its medieval history, since saint Benedict founded his order here and its first monastery. But you’ll also find the remains of a villa built by Nero and you can literally walk *inside* a Roman aqueduct, the Aqua Claudia. Amazing!

​Privernum: another town along the Appian Way, not very famous, but interesting because the excavations are still in progress and there’s an opportunity to take an active part in the archeological digging during certain times of the year. We call this project “archaeologist for a day” and we cooperate with the archeologists there to provide an incredible experience for our guests. 

Ventotene: the little island on the Pontine archipelago (near the more famous Ponza) is the site were Julia, the daughter of Octavian Augustus was confined in exile for five years. She was just the first of a series of “undesired” women of power: Scribonia, Agrippina Maiora, Octavia (the first wife of Nero). Of course, the prison was in fact a luxurious villa whose remains are still visible today. We often arrange sailing cruises lasting a few days, to explore this archipelago and enjoy this crystal clear sea at the same time.

Welcome to the blog this week, readers! It's great to have everyone back and there will still be one final installment on Roman Music in August. Before we dive into ancient woodwinds, I will be starting a longer series of blogs on my upcoming and final novel in the Antonius Trilogy starting in the third week of August. I'm looking forward to sharing more about my upcoming book and hope you'll join me in learning more regarding Marcus Antonius and the final years of his life--especially with Cleopatra!

So let's get started with ancient woodwinds! As a woodwind player, I've always had a passion for flutes and recorders. I'm a professional recorderist (there aren't many of us around!) and so Early Music is especially near and dear to my heart. 

First of all, there are several types of ancient woodwinds--and all of them were used in the Roman period, as well as before, in other cultures. However, some were more commonly used in Roman times, so we'll be addressing them. Transverse flutes, like the one in the picture at right, were held to the side. Sometimes, as on orchestral flutes today, one blew across a hole the way you would across the top of a bottle. On others, there may have been a small mouthpiece--again, as in the picture provided. This photo, by the way, is of Walter Maioli, founder of the musical group Synaulia. This week, I'm featuring some of their music as samples. For those who haven't yet read my first post in this series, Roman Music: Lost Melodies, be sure to do so, as you can learn more about Walter Maioli, who has recreated instruments from antiquity, learned to play them at a virtuoso level, and has spent years studying and learning more about the ancient world's music. 

 
​In my first week's installment, I mentioned that music in general was used in many ways in the Roman world. Religious rituals and ceremonies often featured music. In the lovely fresco from Herculaneum, an Isiac cult ceremony was being held. Use of sistra (rattles associated with the Egyptian goddess Isis) can be seen, held by priests at the top of the stairs to the Temple. At the bottom of the stairs, seated off to the right is a musician playing a flute. ​I've provided a close-up (bottom right) to take a closer look. The instrument appears to be played recorder-style, the mouthpiece being at the end. Though it's difficult to tell in the picture, the player's left hand could be manipulating cymbalum (finger-cymbals). If this is the case, then the single flute was likely a drone, which I'll be introducing momentarily when we begin discussing tibae. What's important to understand, is that there were already all sorts of flute-like instruments. This truly wonderful piece of art has been interpreted by some to have been a water ceremony, featuring actual water from the Nile River, considered to be sacred. Notice the movements of the worshippers... actually similar to Christians lifting their hands in praise. I love the birds strutting about in front of the altar--Egyptian ibses, of course--more Isiac symbolism.

The tibia impares (tibiae of two different lengths) are shown in the photo at right. Again, take another look at the Isiac musician. Though it's difficult to discern, he might be playing the drone of this instrument, or half of it--just the drone. Again, the tibia impares in this Synaulia recording is a double-reed flute, so that's what gives it a rather nasal sound. In fact in the sample, it sounds almost bagpipe-like: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=23iaAJAjBzs
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​Most of Maioli's "work" in the recording was done with his right hand on, which played most of the melody, while the left hand drones on the longer of the flutes. Oh, and by the way--there was an actual Latin term for a tibia player--a tibicin (pl. tibicines).

This next "woodwind" may surprise you. All woodwinds require a pipe or bore through which air passes. The size/shape of the pipe creates a certain pitch, either by its size or by covering holes drilled into a bore.

The ancient hydraulis (water organ) was a piped instrument, and yes, both water and air controlled its sound production, which, I might add, may have been more accurate than one can imagine. And based on size, the volume would have varied. 

The instrument to the left in the photo produced sound, but was but a replica of a small hydraulis discovered in eastern Europe that dated from around the 3rd century AD. And yes, that's my hand on the tiny keyboard, which worked exactly like a keyboard today, except that it was pitched according to Greek modes instead of the pentatonic or diatonic scale. 

Vitruvius tried his best to describe the mechanics of one of these babies, and even he struggled--a man trusted by Julius Caesar to construct his army's bridges: "I have striven to the best of my ability to describe clearly in writing a complicated machine. The task is not an easy one, nor accessible to the general understanding, except for those who have experience in matters of this kind. Yet if anyone grasps them imperfectly from my writings, a knowledge of the instrument will disclose the ingenuity and precision of its design." Vitruvius. De Arch.10.8.6.

It's a known fact that the hydraulis was used in gladiatorial games. Why were they used? Did people simply enjoy them playing tunes between matches, similar to organ music at baseball games today? If one of these instruments was large enough, it could have muffled "unsavory sounds such as screams of dying victims in gladiatorial games." Courtney, 2003. We may never know the draw, but Roman art testifies to the instrument's popularity during Roman games.

Next week, we have another guest blogger, who I'm excited to introduce to you. Silvia Prosperi, a native of Rome, will be sharing some of her favorite historical sites. So for those of you looking to travel once it's safe to do so, or simply interested in virtual travel, you'll love reading what she has prepared for us. In two weeks, I'll be preparing a special blog on brass instruments and music of the Roman military. Until then, I wish everybody a great week ahead. READ ON!!!