What Motivated Soldiers to Be the First to Climb the Siege Ladder?
Being the first on the wall in a siege often meant certain death. It involved battling through to the wall, climbing an exposed ladder or siege tower through a hail of projectiles, only to meet a superior force of defenders upon reaching the top. Nevertheless, brave men in antiquity and the Middle Ages repeatedly took on this daunting challenge. They even competed against each other for the privilege, because everyone wanted to scale the defenses and face the enemy first.
In this video, we ask why the soldiers of ancient Rome were willing to face death to be the first on the wall.
Corona Muralis – The First Man on the Wall
In 209 BC, a Roman army under the general Scipio Africanus attacked New Carthage in Spain. The morning after their arrival, the Romans attempted to storm the city from the east and south, but they failed, and Scipio recalled his men. However, he didn’t give the defenders a break, ordering a second attack on the same day. The New Carthaginians were not prepared for this. They had used up most of their ammunition in the morning and could only keep the Romans, who were now trying to scale the city from three sides, at a distance by withdrawing all forces from the north side of the city.
This was precisely what Scipio had hoped for. He had 500 of his best men sneak across the lagoon north of New Carthage and climb over the wall unnoticed. When they succeeded in opening the east gate from the inside, the city’s fate was sealed. After the battle, two men claimed to have been the first to enter the wall: Quintus Trebellius, a centurion of the fourth legion, who had been with the 500 men on the north side, and Sextus Digitus, a marine who had fought on one of the galleys south of the city. The disagreement between the two erupted into an argument, almost leading to a violent clash between their units.
Shortly before words came to blows between the marines and the legionaries, Scipio appointed three arbiters who decided that both had entered the wall simultaneously and both should be honored with the corona muralis. The two men had good reason to argue, because the corona muralis, or mural crown, was one of ancient Rome’s most coveted military decorations. According to the Roman writer Aulus Gellius, it was a golden crown shaped like a city wall and decorated with crenelations.
This award was similar to modern medals of honor, such as the American Medal of Honor or the Bundeswehr Cross of Honour for Valour, but its impact was much greater. Whoever received it became a famous war hero, received a princely financial reward, and could use his military success as a political stepping stone.
The corona muralis was rarely awarded, as typically only one person could be the first on the wall. In ancient Rome, awards were generally not awarded posthumously, and many who made it onto the wall did not come back down alive. According to archaeologist Valerie A. Maxfield, the corona muralis was awarded without regard to rank or status—at least until the Imperial period. Our initial example underscores this point: if a simple marine could be decorated, then certainly legionaries could be too.
However, it was likely the centurions who most frequently received the corona muralis. This was because one man couldn’t conquer a wall alone. The centurions had men to watch their backs, shoot at the defenders, and secure the ladders, giving them the best chance of success. Of course, the legionaries also benefited, not only by sharing the glory as part of the team that had defeated the wall, but also because the recipient of the crown almost certainly shared his winnings with them.
It is no coincidence that the moment of overcoming the wall was rewarded. The assault on the wall was one of the most dangerous and costly phases of a siege. Anyone who made it to the city had to climb up a ladder virtually unprotected while arrows and stones rained down on him, the defenders tried to knock the ladder over, and several opponents struck at him from above. If he still managed to scale the wall, he faced an overwhelming number of defenders trying to kill him or force him off the wall.
The chances of success were slim, but if only a single man gained a foothold, a siege that would otherwise cost an incredible amount of time, money, and lives could be ended quickly. This is precisely why armies motivated their men to conquer the wall by offering a reward; days or even hours could be crucial in a siege. This was also the case with Scipio Africanus’ attack on New Carthage. The general knew that he had less than a week before Carthage’s army arrived to rescue the defenders. So, the performance of Quintus Trebellius and Sextus Digitus was decisive for the battle, which is possibly the reason why they were both awarded the corona muralis in the end.
According to the Roman historian Livy, Roman soldiers were prepared to go to extreme lengths to win the corona muralis. In his History of Rome, he writes, “the men dashed on in the face of wounds and missiles, and neither walls nor armed men standing on them can restrain them from vying with one another in the attempt to climb.” Clearly, the Roman soldiers were ready to give their lives for the corona muralis and the honor that came with it.
This may seem crazy today, but it made perfect sense back then. To understand why, we need to understand the importance of military success in Roman society. Roman society was characterized by military virtue to a degree almost unimaginable today. Political and military success were inextricably linked, which is best illustrated by the fact that politicians and high-ranking military officers were the same exclusive group of people.
Honor—virtus in Latin—had a very real impact on a man’s life and social standing. Virtus literally means “manliness” and stands for bravery, masculinity, excellence, and courage, all of which were considered masculine virtues. In Rome, an aspiring aristocrat had to demonstrate these virtues to win supporters and political backing. Military achievements were the primary means of recognition, and military decorations (so-called dona) like the corona muralis visibly showcased these accomplishments to all.
Therefore, awards like the corona muralis serviced as a sort of boost up the social and political ladder. In today’s world, this would be like someone winning the Medal of Honor, instantly gaining global fame, appearing in every media outlet, and becoming a prominent contender in the next presidential election. In addition, the entire family benefitted from the award. If a man received the corona muralis and perhaps even rose to a higher office as a result, this elevated the social status of the whole family.
The Gens Trebellia, the family of the centurion who won the mural crown in New Carthage, first appeared in the history books with his decoration but then produced several important men in the late Republic and early Imperial period. Marcus Trebellius Maximus was even elected consul in 55 A.D. Reaching the top of the wall first was risky, and death was a real possibility. But the prize that beckoned was even greater.
This did not end with the fall of the Western Roman Empire but continued into the Middle Ages. Then, the brave fighters who first stormed the wall were often rewarded with knighthood. Only in the early modern period, when group cohesion became more important, and discipline and order replaced courage and individual performance, were such feats of arms increasingly seen as dangerous solo efforts. In the times of pike and shot warfare, it was no longer worth risking one’s life for honor, and the courageous deeds of individuals were replaced by coordinated assaults.