Did Rome’s first kings really rule? This episode of Ancient Mysteries weighs the historicity of Romulus, Numa, and the Tarquins against what the ground reveals. We pair the legends with the archaic layers of the Roman Forum—the Lapis Niger altar, the Vulcanal precinct, Regia foundations, hut floors on the Palatine, and early megaprojects like the Cloaca Maxima and the first Temple of Jupiter Capitolinus. We also explain how 21 April 753 BCE was derived. No verdict—just the evidence, and the mystery.
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You know, if you've ever walked in the
Roman Forum, you've probably felt that
strange tug of time. Just out of sight,
you hear modern traffic, but there
you're walking on imperial marble as so
many ancient Romans did. And there are
moments when you're no longer in the
modern world.
Have you ever wondered how far back this
forum really goes? There are parts of
that place that precede the time of the
emperors by a long time. Underneath the
tumbled columns lies an ancient shrine
called the Lapis Nigar, built during the
late republic. Peel the black pavement
beneath it away and you reach an altar
from around 570 years before the
Christian era, the time of the Roman
kings. Not too far away, the broken
walls of the vulcanal shrine. Maybe even
earlier, the tough foundations of the
Reggia, traditional headquarters of
Rome's kings, date to roughly the same
archaic horizon. And archaeologists have
traced beaten earth paving in the
commitium that could nudge the record
back into the mid7th century. Guides may
tell you tales of seven kings who ruled
during those shadowy centuries,
beginning with Romulus, son of Mars, and
ending with Tarquin Lraoud, whose fall
supposedly birthed the Republic. But how
much of the early history of Rome is
factually correct? Did any of those
kings actually exist? Or did the later
Romans retcon them into history in order
to fill the gaps? Well, right now we're
going to make an effort to sift the myth
from the masonry.
Our oldest source on the Roman kings is
Cicero who lived in the later republic
the 1st century B.CE. In the times of
the later republic, primary sources,
records from the actual time of the
kings were already largely non-existent.
Cicero probably was drawing from Fabius
Pictor, Rome's earliest historian, who
lived during the late 3rd century B.C.E.
His work no longer exists. Pictor had to
align Rome's past events within Greek
chronological frameworks as best as he
could to estimate a date for Rome's
birth. Now the traditional date for the
founding of Rome by Romulus is the 21st
of April 753 B.CE. The day comes from
Libby a Roman historian writing in
Emperor Augustus time. He says Ramulus
began work during the Perilia a spring
right when herders purified their
flocks. The year comes from the scholar
Marcus Torrentius Varro. In his
calculations, Varro began with 509 or
what we call 509, the year the Romans
believe they expelled their last king.
Added up the legendary reign lengths of
the seven kings about 244 years and
subtracted that arithmetic lands on 753.
He placed the foundation in the third
year of the sixth Greek Olympiad, a
point which matched neatly with
genealogical calculations, especially
counting backward through generations of
Roman kings. Later writers helped to
popularize Varro's date. But the
important thing to note here is that
Rome's birthday is an estimate by later
Roman writers. Careful, but hardly
eyewitness. At the site of the Roman
forum, pre- Roman Iron Age graves there
vanish around 750. Almost overnight, a
burial ground morphed into a meeting
place. Communal hearths first, then
pebble paving, then clay, signs of a
space turning public. A century and a
half later, Rome was tackling mega
projects, a stonelined drainage canal we
still call the cloaka maxima, and the
colossal tough podium of the temple of
Jupiter capital. Both anchor firmly in
the late 6th century, precisely the era
tradition assigns to the last kings. A
fragmentaryary curse cut in archaic
Latin under black marble beside the
curia mentions a rex and forbids
disturbance of a sacred spot. Rex means
king. Letter forms date it to the end of
the sixth century when kingship or at
least recent memory of kingship was
still alive.
Here are the seven legendary kings.
Romulus. Archaeologists like Andrea
Carandini have done excavations on the
Palatine, the hill on which, according
to legend, Ramulus and his brother Remis
founded the Roman city. Beneath the
imperial palaces, they uncovered oval
hut floors and hearth ash dated by
pottery and radiocarbon to the middle of
the 8th century B.C.E., right on time.
Carandini even traced a stone-packed
trench he cheekily named Ramulus's wall.
Some call it a fortification, others a
humble retaining line, but its age seems
to be right. From the early 7th century,
they found stone-faced terraces
supporting what may be a princely
residence on the Palatine Hill. Numa
Pompilius, he is celebrated as Rome's
lawgiving priest king who established
the orders of the priesthood and founded
the temple of Janus, Yanos. Immediately
after Ramulus era, soil layers reveal
uniform ritual pits filled with animal
bones and tiny vote of cups, evidence of
rules suddenly governing sacrifice. Were
those rules Numa's handiwork or did
later Romans imagine a pious monarch to
explain the tidy debris? The ground
stays silent on that point. Tulis
Hostilius. As you can tell from his
name, he was considered a great warrior
who expanded Rome's territory. And Ankus
Marius also was known for his conquest
as well as for setting the legal
precedents for war and diplomacy.
Stories cast them as conquerors who
pushed Rome down the Tyber and threw
bridges across it. From the late 7th
century, we indeed find earth ramparts
and fortified river crossings at the
city's edge. Tarquinius Prriscus and
Servius Tullus. These are the first two
Itruscan kings. In that sixth century
window, the Roman skyline sprouted
temples roofed in bright painted
terracotta and at Truscan trademark. Now
whether these roofs were commissioned by
actually Truscan kings or just by local
elites copying a fashionable neighbor
remains open. Recent mapping under the
Via Sakra in the forum shows a
monumental complex of the mid-ixth
century. The Servian wall itself
illustrates the caution required.
Literary tradition linked it to King
Servius. But tough typology and cut mark
analysis show the main circuit dates to
the early 4th century well into the
republic though minor earth and ramp
parts may underly it. Tarquinius
Superbus the last king supposedly
drained the valley with the cloaka
Maxima and laid the first giant podium
of the temple of Jupiter Capidolinus.
Core drillings through the capital line
podium confirm a massive tough
foundation begun in the sixth century
again in Tarquin territory and so vast
that Republican builders simply rebuilt
a top it after each fire. Running under
modern traffic is a tunnel once open
air, a channel lined in tough blocks no
later than the late 6th century. Its
profile and volcanic stone match other
regal period engineering. Engineering
studies date both the cloaka maxima and
the temple of Jupiter to his reign. But
early Republican repairs blur the
boundary between royal project and
post-royal renovation.
So each monarch seems to step out of
legend and plant a footprint in the
actual soil, but there's still not a
clear correlation between story and
strata. This is where our mystery lies.
Most scholars think that the final three
kings have a greater claim to
historicity than the earlier ones. Note
that these seven kings are assumed to
have reigned over a period of more than
200 years. This makes the length of
their reigns unusually long. Now, couple
that with the fact that seven was a
number of symbolic significance to the
Romans, and it makes one question if
there were really only these seven
kings. Enter the modern detectives and
the disagreement. British historian Tim
Cornell says the evidence stacks in lock
step with the king list. 8th century
huts, 7th century forum paving, sixth
century mega structures. No coincidence,
he argues. Tim Cornell reads the those
trenches and temples as a noisy but
coherent archaeological heartbeat that
pulses exactly where the written
timeline places the kings. The pattern
he sees is gradual state formation
anchored by real monarchs whose deeds
were later embroidered. French
archaeologist Alexandra Grandazi holds
an opposing opinion saying that the
earliest layers are fragmentaryary and
could be seasonal shelters. a true city,
he says, doesn't crystallize in the
archaeological record until about 625
B.CE. He points out that the evidence
for the 8th century is scant, that
Karandini's wall may be terracing for
later houses, and that genuine urban
complexity only solidified in the
seventh century. For him, early kings
are narrative placeholders, not persons.
Romulus as the classic founder, perhaps
named for the city rather than the other
way around. Numa Pompilius, Tullius
Hostilius, and Ankus Marquus fitting the
classic roles of priest, warrior, and
lawgiver so suspiciously neatly seems
like their legendary archetypes. Many
Roman scholars split the difference and
say that legends can fossilize civic
memories. Romulus could be a
shortorthhand for the messy fusion of
shepherd clans. Numa, the
personification of ritual
standardization. Servious, a compressed
echo of multiple reforming elites. They
remind us that legends can carry genuine
memories, but always filter it through
politics. Where archaeology converges
with legend, they keep an open mind as
to the possibility. And where the soil
goes silent, they let the silent speak.
So, I think we can boil this down to
three facts. First, the biographies of
the first four kings glitter with
fantasy. No doubt about that. Second,
although there were settlements in the
area of Rome prior to the 8th century
B.C.E., a more centralized society did
begin developing there around the date
Varro's math predicts. If you were to
visit Rome in the 8th century, you would
find substantial settlements of wood and
clay huts on several of its hills, which
shared civic and ritual spaces.
Third, two centuries later, royal scale
construction unmistakably transforms the
city, coinciding with the presumed
reigns of the Atruscan kings. Does that
confirm or refute the legends? Neither
really. It leaves us staring into a gap
of many possibilities. Perhaps Ramulus
was a real war leader whose name we
mispronounce today. Perhaps he's a
patchwork of forgotten chiefs given one
heroic face. Or perhaps he never existed
at all and early Romans told a violent
bedtime story to explain why they
themselves were so fierce. We can scrape
deeper using new scientific methods to
analyze what we've got. But the trail
still fades until and unless we find
something else underneath the earth. An
informative inscription, for example. It
doesn't look like this is a mystery we
can fully solve. And that, I think, is
what makes Rome's first kings a perfect
ancient mystery. It's unresolved. It's
compelling. And it forever invites us
back into the dirt to have another look.
Thank you for exploring with me. I'm
David Mo. Until next time, remember, the
distant past rarely hands us definitive
and incontrovertible answers, just
better questions. You might like my
little ebooklet, Why Ancient History
Matters. It's designed to persuade
people that the subject is important
even in the modern world. You might also
wish to use it to help spread the word.
So, feel free to share it with someone
you know. It's free for anyone who wants
it. I've left a link in the description
box below the video for you to grab a
copy. Catch you later.