In the numismatic cabinets of the mid-third century, the coinage of Gaius Vibius Afinius Gallus Veldumnianus Volusianus offers a poignant glimpse into a world that was rapidly coming apart at the seams. Ruling as co-emperor alongside his father, Trebonianus Gallus, from 251 to 253 CE, Volusianus is often dismissed as a mere footnote in the “Crisis of the Third Century.” However, as a collector, I find his silver-washed antoniniani to be deeply evocative. They depict a young man with tight, curly hair and a short, military beard, a prince who was thrust into the purple at a time when the Roman throne was less a seat of power and more a target for assassins. His reign was a brief, two-year struggle against the triple terrors of barbarian invasion, Persian aggression, and a pestilence that literally turned the Empire into a graveyard.
The Rise of the Veldumniani: From Caesar to Augustus
Volusianus was born around 230 CE into an ancient and respectable Italian family. His father, Trebonianus Gallus, was a seasoned senator and general who found himself at the helm of the Empire after the catastrophic defeat of Emperor Decius at the Battle of Abritus in June 251 CE. To stabilize the state, the elder Gallus initially adopted Decius’s surviving son, Hostilian, as his co-emperor. But the “Plague of Cyprian” was more ruthless than any Gothic sword; Hostilian succumbed to the disease within weeks.
In the wake of Hostilian’s death, Gallus moved quickly to secure his own bloodline. In July 251 CE, Volusianus was elevated to the rank of Caesar, and by the end of the year, he was raised to the full rank of Augustus. On their joint coinage, the father and son often appear as a united front, signaling to the restless legions that the “Veldumnian” dynasty was here to stay. Volusianus was made consul in 252 and 253 CE, performing the traditional rites of the Roman state even as the world outside the Senate walls grew increasingly dark.
The Three-Front War: Goths, Persians, and Pestilence
The reign of Volusianus was defined by a desperate, defensive posture. While his father negotiated a controversial and arguably “shameful” peace with the Goths—allowing them to return home with Roman prisoners and loot in exchange for a gold tribute—the rest of the world was in flames. In the East, the Sassanid King Shapur I was systematically dismantling Roman defenses in Syria and Mesopotamia. In the West, the Germanic tribes began to test the Rhine.
Through it all, the plague continued its grim work. It disrupted the very fabric of Roman life: trade ground to a halt, agriculture failed as workers died in the fields, and the silver content of the antoninianus plummeted as the emperors struggled to pay the troops. For the collector, the coins of Volusianus are often found in “poor” metallurgical condition, a tangible record of an empire that was literally losing its value.
The Shadow of Decius and a Ghostly Marriage
To further cement his legitimacy, it is believed that Volusianus may have married a daughter of the deified Decius, though her name remains lost to the mists of time. This was a classic Roman political move—marrying into the prestige of the past to mask the fragility of the present. Yet, no amount of dynastic maneuvering could protect them from the growing resentment of the Danube legions. The soldiers, disgusted by the tribute Gallus was paying to the Goths, began to look for a leader who would lead them with iron rather than gold.
The Betrayal at Interamna: A Final Sunset
The end for Volusianus came with the same sudden violence that had brought his father to power. In 253 CE, the general Aemilianus achieved a rare victory over the Goths and was promptly proclaimed emperor by his troops. He wasted no time, marching his veterans straight toward Italy. Gallus and Volusianus gathered what loyal forces they had and marched to meet him.
The two armies converged near Interamna (modern Terni), but the battle never truly began. The soldiers of the imperial army, realizing that Aemilianus offered a better hope for victory and loot, turned their weapons on their own leaders. In August 253 CE, Volusianus and his father were murdered by their own guards. Volusianus was likely only twenty-three years old when his life was cut short, ending a dynasty that had lasted less than eight hundred days.
The Legacy of a Minor Augustus
Volusianus left no great monuments, no epic histories, and no lasting reforms. He is remembered primarily through the coins that bear his name—small, silver-washed tokens of a young man who tried to be a Caesar in an age of giants and ghosts. For those of us who study his reign, he remains a poignant symbol of the “Crisis,” a reminder that during the third century, the purple robe was often a shroud in disguise. He was a prince of the plague, a ruler of a world on the brink, and a tragic testament to the brutal speed of Roman history.
