THOSE ABOUT TO DIE
DANIEL P.MANNIX
THE FULL STORY OF THE ROMAN GAMES
TWO ARMIES OF 5,000 MEN FOUGHT TO THE DEATH
THE SHOW WAS LIT AT NIGHT BY HUMAN TORCHES
THEEMPEROR MARCUS SPENTNEARLYA MILLION POUNDS A YEAR ON GLADIATORS
THE COSTLIEST, CRUELLIST SPECTACLE OF ALL TIME
DANIEL P MANNIX
THOSE ABOUT TO DIE
A PANTHER BOOK
THOSE ABOUT TO DIE
A Panther Book
First published in Great Britain by Panther Books Limited 1960
reprinted 1960 (three times),
1961, 1962 (twice), 1963 (twice),
1965 (twice), April 1966
© Copyright 1958 by Daniel P. Mannix
This book shall not?without the written consent of the Publishers first given, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise disposed of by way of trade in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published.
Printed in England by C. Nicholls & Company Ltd.,
The Philips Park Press, Manchester, and published by Panther Books Ltd., 108 Brompton Road, London, S.W.3
THOSE ABOUT TO DIE
CHAPTER ONE
Nero was Emperor and for two weeks the mob had been rioting uncontrolled in the streets of Rome. The economy of the greatest empire that the world had ever seen was coming apart like an unravelling sweater. The cost of maintaining Rome's gigantic armed forces, equipped with the latest catapults, ballistae, and fast war galleys, was bleeding the nation white and in addition there were the heavy subsidies that had to be paid to the satellite nations dependent on Rome for support. The impoverished government had neither the funds nor the power to stop the riots.
In this crisis, the Captain of the Shipping hurried by chariot to consult with the first tribune.
"The merchant fleet is in Egypt awaiting loading,” he announced. "The ships can be loaded either with corn for the starving people or with the special sand used on the track for the chariot races. Which shall itbe?”
"Are you mad?" screamed the tribune. "The situation here has got out of control. The emperor's a lunatic, the army's on the edge of mutiny and the people are dying of hunger. For the gods' sake, get the sand! We have to get their minds off their troubles!"
Soon special announcement was made by heralds that the finest chariot races on record would be held at the Circus Maximus. Three hundred pairs of gladiators would fight to the death and twelve hundred condemned criminals would be eaten by lions. Fights between elephants and rhinos, buffaloes and tigers, and leopards and wild boars would be staged. As a special feature, twenty beautiful young girls would be raped by jackasses. Admission to the rear seats, free. Small charge for the first thirty-six tiers of seats.
Everything else was promptly forgotten. The gigantic stadium, seating 385,000 people, was jammed to capacity. For two weeks the games went on while the crowd cheered, made bets and got drunk. Once again the government had a breathing space to try to find some way out of its difficulties.
The games—as these incredible spectacles were politely called—were a national institution. Millions of people were dependent on them for a living: animal trappers, gladiator trainers, horse breeders, shippers, contractors, armourers, stadium attendants, promoters and businessmen of all kinds. To have abolished the games would have thrown so many people out of work that the national economy would have collapsed. In addition, the games were the narcotic that kept the Roman mob doped up so the government could operate. A performer named Pylades contemptuously told Augustus Caesar, "Your position depends on how we keep the mob amused." Juvenal wrote bitterly, "The people who have conquered the world now have only two interests—bread and circuses."
In a sense, the people were trapped. Rome had over-extended herself. She had become, as much by accident as design, the dominant nation of the world. The cost of maintaining the "Pax Romana"—the Peace of Rome—over most of the known world was proving too great even for the enormous resources of the mighty empire. But Rome did not dare to abandon her allies or pull back her legions who were holding the barbarian tribes in a line extending from the Rhine in Germany to the Persian Gulf. Every time that a frontier post was relinquished, the wild hordes would sweep in, overrun the area and move just that much closer to the nerve centres of Roman trade.
So the Roman government was constantly threatened by bankruptcy and no statesman could find a way out of the difficulty. The cost of its gigantic military programme was only one of Rome's headaches. To encourage industry in her various satellite nations, Rome attempted a policy of unrestricted trade, but the Roman working-man was unable to compete with the cheap foreign labour and demanded high tariffs. When the tariffs were passed, the satellite nations were unable to sell their goods to the only nation that had any money. To break the deadlock, the government was finally forced to subsidize the Roman working-class to make up the difference between their "real wages" (the actual value of what they were producing) and the wages required to keep up their relatively high standard of living. As a result, thousands of workmen lived on this subsidy and did nothing whatever, sacrificing their standard of living for a life of ease.
The wealthy class of Rome, living in palaces and eating banquets composed of such delicacies as thrushes' tongues in wild honey and sow's udders stuffed with tried baby mice, owed their riches to great factories where slave labourers produced enormous masses of goods by what we now call assembly-line methods. The dispossessed farmers and unemployed workmen had one great cry: "Let the rich pay!" The government responded by increasing taxes year after year on the plutocrats, but there was a point beyond which they dared not go. After all, it was the taxes paid by these rich men that kept the whole system going and the government did not dare to ruin them. Attempts were made to abolish slave labour in the factories, but the free workmen's demand for short hours and high wages had grown so great that only slaves could be used economically. Also, the big factory owners were politically powerful and fought every effort to break up their holdings by bribing senators, hiring lobbyists, and securing the support of unscrupulous labour leaders. A Roman factory owner found it far more profitable to spend thousands of sesterces in such practices rather than lose his slaves. And the Roman freeman would far rather have his dole and games than work for a living.
To the Roman mob—caught in an economic tangle it could not comprehend and was unable to break—the circus was the only panacea for its troubles. The great amphitheatres became the ordinary man's temple, home, place of assembly, and ideal. As the games were ostensibly pious ceremonies given in honour of the gods, they gratified his religious sense. He was able for a few hours at least to inhabit an edifice more magnificent than the Golden Palace of Nero instead of a miserable, overcrowded tenement. Here he was able to meet with other freemen, feel a sense of unity as he sat with his faction cheering a certain chariot team, and impose his wishes on the emperor himself for, as the Romans' themselves said, "In the circus alone are the people rulers." The Romans worshipped courage and every Roman liked to picture himself as a rough, tough fighter. In Rome, the "little guy" could identify himself with a successful gladiator as a modern fight fan can identify himself with a famous prize fighter.
There were other attractions. Betting ran so high that fortunes were won or lost in the circus within a few minutes, and only by betting could the ordinary freeman obtain wealth. Also, no matter how badly off a Roman might be, he had the satisfaction of knowing that he was superior to the poor wretches in the arena. Although few Romans cared for the low pay and rigid discipline of the army, they could still consider themselves real fighting men as they shouted advice and insults to the struggling gladiators below. Nothing delighted the Roman mob more than to have some visiting dignitary from a satellite nation get sick during the games and have to rush from the amphitheatre. The freeman would say with great satisfaction, "Those effeminate Greeks, they can't take the sight of blood like us Romans!" and turn to the next event with renewed relish.
The games—which eventually came to cost one-third of the total income of the empire and used up thousands of animals and humans every month—started out as festivals no more bloodthirsty than the average county fair. The first games in 238 b.c. featured exhibitions of trick riding, acrobats, wire walkers, trained animals, chariot racing and athletic events. There was boxing with soft leather straps over the knuckles that took the place of gloves. The militia staged a sham battle, and the crack cavalry corps, composed of rich young men mounted on thoroughbred horses and dressed in gold and silver armour, went through a drill. There were also horse races in which the riders had to jump from one horse to another in full gallop. Occasionally a pageant was held, such as the Siege of Troy, in which the wooden mock-up representing Troy was attacked by militiamen dressed as Greek soldiers and finally burned amid much blowing of trumpets and loud applause. An admission fee was charged by whoever was producing the show.
Later this sort of exhibition got much too tame for the Romans. The only one of the events to last was the chariot racing, which, like modern horse racing, was a perfect sport for betting. However, even the chariot racing completely changed its character. Instead of being simply a race it became bloody and exciting enough to hold popular interest.
The Circus Maximus, the oldest amphitheatre in Rome, was especially designed for chariot racing. Although in the early days the games were held in any open field convenient to the city, and the chariots simply raced along a course marked off on the ground, I'll describe the Circus Maximus races in about 50 a.d. to give an idea of the sport at its height.
Originally built about 530 b.c., the Circus Maximus measured 1,800 feet long by 600 feet wide—more than twice the size of the Yankee Stadium. It was shaped like a long U. At the open end of the U were the stalls for the chariots, with doors that could all be thrown open at the same instant as in
AA. Starting gates E. Alba linea.
B. Porta Pompae: FF. Metae. central door for processions. CC. Lines of seats. G Spina (Spine) set a little diagonally
DD. Towers of the oppidum. H. Tribunal Judicum; umpires' seats.
PLAN OF THE CIRCUS MAXIMUS
the start of modern horse races. Down the centre of the amphitheatre ran a long barricade, called the Spine, and the chariots had to circle the Spine seven times—a total distance of about four miles.
The Spine was the show spot of the whole circus. There were statues on columns, fountains spurting perfumed water, altars to the gods, and even a small temple dedicated to the Venus of the Sea, the special patron goddess of charioteers. The charioteers always burned incense to this Venus before beginning a race. In the centre of the Spine there was an obelisk, imported from Egypt, surmounted by a golden ball. This ball gleamed brilliantly in the sun and was the most noticeable object in the circus. The obelisk, minus the ball, now stands in the centre of Saint Peter's Square in Rome, before the cathedral.
Near the ends of the Spine were two columns, each surmounted by a crossbar of marble. On one crossbar was mounted a line of marble eggs. There was a line of dolphins on the other. The eggs were the symbol of Castor and Pollux, the heavenly twins who were the patron saints of Rome, and the dolphins were sacred to Neptune, the patron of horses. Every time the chariots circled the course, an egg and a dolphin were removed so the crowd could tell how many laps had been run. At the extreme ends of the Spine were set three cones some twenty feet high and ornamented with bas-reliefs. These cones (called metae) acted as bumpers to keep the elegant Spine from being damaged by the chariots on the turns. Pliny says the metae looked like cypress trees.
The racing was managed by a number of big corporations that were regarded as the most important money-making enterprises in the Roman world and had thousands of stockholders. Stock in these companies was so valuable that it was carefully passed on from father to son as a priceless possession. These corporations maintained huge offices in the heart of the business districts in all main cities as well as in Rome itself. In addition to these offices, the companies owned great blocks of buildings near the various circuses (there was a circus of some sort in virtually every town in the empire) and these buildings served as barracks and stables. The buildings were usually set around a track for exercising the teams. The companies also owned countless stud farms and even maintained fleets of ships with built-in stalls for transporting horses from one circus to another. The size of the stud farms may be imagined by the remark of a government agent who, in 550 a.d. when it was finally necessary to abolish the racing, was sent around to break up the farms. He said of one place: "It was already so reduced that the owner has only four hundred horses left, so I decided that it was not worth bothering about"