by Gary M Burge
He chose Tullus.
For many days Tullus accompanied Appius as he attended meetings with provincial officials. It was vital, they argued, that incoming Romans understand difficulties that were native to the province. It was called Judea because its largest tribal population called themselves Jews. The Jews cared little for Caesarea—this city had been built only to serve Rome’s purposes—but they could be explosively protective of Jerusalem, their sacred city. Uprisings were not uncommon. And to watch things carefully, Rome had refurbished an old fortress that overlooked the Jewish temple in Jerusalem. Troops regularly rotated in and out of the city, watching for any sign of dissent or disturbance.
None of this was news to Appius. Jews lived throughout Syria. Raphana had its own Jewish community, which had a house of gathering for its weekly meetings. Jews were one of the largest minorities even in Rome.
But here, his advisers warned, small tensions could easily become inflamed and burn out of control. This was an explosive province on the fringe of the empire. And while thousands of legionnaires had effectively quieted Syria, Judea had more freedom than it deserved. One day, they said, an inevitable war would arise, and then the empire would need to remove that freedom.
Judea
Judea was an imperial province that enjoyed its own local rule under Rome until Herod the Great’s sons failed to carry on their father’s legacy of good (though severe) management and fealty to the empire. Two sons successfully ruled the north of the country (Herod Antipas, Herod Philip), but another named Archelaus failed miserably in the south. In A.D. 6 the Romans removed him and installed Roman governors.
This meant that during the lifetime of Jesus, Tiberius was Rome’s emperor; Herod’s son Antipas was ruling western Galilee, which Jesus called home; and a Roman governor ruled the center of the country, which included Jerusalem. The governor likely remained in Caesarea for much of the time. But occasionally he traveled to Jerusalem to see the Jewish leadership. There he may have stayed either at Herod the Great’s old palace (on the city’s west side, just south of the modern Jaffa Gate) or in the Antonia Fortress, built on the temple court’s northwest corner (remains can be found on the modern Via Dolorosa in the Sisters of Zion Convent).
Judea was compliant under Rome’s rule until A.D. 66, when conflict began and then escalated into a devastating war. Four years later (A.D. 70), Jerusalem was sacked and burned by Roman legions.
There were idle days, too, when Tullus and Appius had little to do. Appius was a soldier waiting for an assignment that had not yet been invented. Gallica had sent many soldiers in service to the province, and they had worked with honor. Appius was hopeful that his work would materialize soon and that it would be important.
Caesarea had many distractions. There were athletic games and gladiatorial contests that were the finest at this far east end of the empire. There was a huge theater, where audiences enjoyed the greatest dramas of the empire. Seated in sculpted seats beneath expansive awnings facing the ocean, they were entertained by singers and actors. Just to the south there was a new horse-racing track, where chariots and skilled horsemen competed for money before cheering crowds. There were markets where anything, indeed anything, could be bought, from Ethiopian slaves to Spanish jewelry to spices from India. Each day, as he took in more of the city, Tullus felt as if his eyes could barely absorb another spectacle.
Appius seemed to enjoy showing Tullus the delights of the Roman way, the Via Romana, he called it. It was a life carefully built around values of honor, strength and discipline. For Tullus it seemed beautiful, so organized, so intentional, so dramatically different from the rural town of his childhood. He had thought he knew the Romans in Emesa. He now learned he did not. He had thought he knew them in Raphana. This was only a shadow of the real thing he now witnessed in Caesarea. No wonder the Romans ruled the world.
One afternoon Appius approached Tullus with an exuberance that Tullus had not seen before. Tullus was intrigued. Appius, he thought, was coming back to life.
“An arena has been built outside the walls. And we are going.”
“An arena? For what purpose? We already have arenas for games, for theater and for horses.”
“This is something you have not seen. Nor have I seen it for years. Gladiators have come by sea. They are from Carthage and have recently arrived from Alexandria. Everyone says that they are without parallel anywhere in the empire.”
Before he knew it, Tullus was swept up by crowds making their way to the outskirts of Caesarea. And there he saw it. An arena with a tented wall filling with hundreds—no, thousands—of excited spectators. Appius paid a considerable sum for both of them so they might have the best seats, overlooking the center of the oval ring. Roman dignitaries, both men and women, were seated around them, and Tullus thought he caught his first glimpse of the provincial governor. It was all noise and crowds and hawkers selling food and mementos from the day. Tullus saw small boys running about with short wooden swords, copies of the favorite weapon of gladiators.
Suddenly drummers, seated at the end of the arena, silenced the crowd with an ominous, pulsating beat. Horn blowers sounded an alarm that everyone must move behind a strongly built fence that separated the arena from the crowds. Men with swords were stationed every fifty feet.
Two men stepped from a gate tucked between the arena seating. They were enormous men. And while they wore no uniform, they carried weapons Tullus had seen in the legion: short-swords and knives, and small, round shields. They met the cheering crowds with waves and threw their shields to the ground as if they were an encumbrance. The drums began beating again. The crowd went silent, and quickly six slaves ran into the arena, armed only with knives. The gladiators faced them as the slaves spread out and began to circle them. But the gladiators would not be entrapped. They attacked and quickly cut them down. Tullus had not seen blood sport before, and it made him want to retch as six men fell in an instant to the expert skill of these two fighters. A wagon pulled by horses rushed across the sand, and the bodies were heaved into it in a pile. As the wagon pulled away, Tullus saw a heavy stream of blood flowing from its bed.
Blood Sport
Gladiator games emerged in the Hellenistic period between 150 and 250 years before Christ. Initially they were simple “spectacles” provided by a ruler to thank a city for its support or solicit its interest for future times. Captured slaves or animals usually provided the source of entertainment as skilled men re-created combat with them to show Roman prowess. On occasion the spectacle was a re-creation of some battle where Roman victory could be celebrated.
Figure 4.3. Two female gladiators, Amazon and Achilia
But soon they evolved into something more complex. The gladiator became a professional fighter, skilled in “blood sport,” who could make an enormous name for himself and become quite rich. Gladiator spectacles were very expensive, since the cost of the fighters themselves was high, as were the costs of the victims of the fight: slaves, animals and so forth.
It was rare to see women in the arena, but we know it took place. In a famous passage from Suetonius, the historian describes one emperor and his spectacles: “Domitian presented many extravagant entertainments in the coliseum and the circus. Besides the usual two-horse chariot races he staged a couple of battles, one for infantry, the other for cavalry; a sea-fight in the amphitheater; wild-beast hunts; gladiatorial shows by torchlight in which women as well as men took part.”a
aSee the Perseus Project for the text of C. Suetonius Tranquillus, “The Lives of the Twelve Caesars,” Domitian 4:1 (perseus.tufts.edu).
The crowd was on its feet, cheering. The gladiators raised their blood-stained gladius swords into the air in response. And then the drums began again. Now entered two barbarian slaves, armored and obviously skilled. Tullus thought they were Parthians—he wished they were, but he couldn’t be sure. They showed little fear and moved confidently toward the gladiators, who now quickly collected their shields. This would be a real fight, and
the crowd knew it. At once the men were engaged in combat, and the outcome seemed uncertain. Tullus could barely make out who was winning amid all the dust and confusion while the crowds were screaming all around him. And then the crowd gasped—Tullus quickly looked back to the arena—one of the barbarians had been impaled by a gladiator and was falling backward. The gladiator shoved him off and then turned on the other slave, whom he dispatched with a single slash. And it was over. Again the Romans had been victorious.
Scene after scene unfolded as Tullus watched. In one instance, a gladiator met a bear single-handed. The bear would not fall after being stabbed. Its claws cut through the air fruitlessly when at last the gladiator’s weapon met its mark and the animal crumpled into the sand. Each successive spectacle was more intense than the next. Five Scythian horsemen entered the arena and proudly rode before the crowd, waving their long-swords. They were known for their fine horses and cavalry combat. They knew no gladiator could stand against them. Two men entered the arena and stood ready to face the Scythians, who laughed and rode around them in circles, taunting them, promising to deliver a quick kill. But as they made their charge, archers stepped from the margin, and before the horsemen could attack, arrows flew at their horses and their riders. Horses and horsemen fell in a heap, and the gladiators finished off any who were alive. It was another Roman victory.
Tullus had to look away. Is this Rome? Do I barely know Appius and the world he came from?
The bodies were piled on wagons, but by now the arena was thoroughly bloodstained. The drummers began a slow, rhythmic beat that alerted the audience that the final, climatic event was to come. Everyone watched in silence. What surprise was now in store? What new game could be left?
A gate opened. An official waved his hands upward to silence any murmuring. He was announcing two new gladiators, never seen in this part of the world before. Their names were Amazon and Maxilla. The audience gasped. Two women stepped into the arena. Their long hair flowed over their shoulders, and they marched provocatively before the crowds. They wore the combat gear of men and short tunics. In one hand they each carried a brass helmet, in the other a gladius and a circular shield. Tullus was transfixed. Women in an arena? Women fighting in blood sport? Women dressed like men?
The crowd stood in silence as a gate swung open. Dwarves! Four dwarves with light armor and knives. Tullus could hear the crowd laughing: Classic! What could be better?! I can’t believe we’re so lucky.
Amazon and Maxilla strapped on their helmets, their hair springing from under the rims and down their backs. They hoisted their round shields onto their left wrists and lowered their short-swords with their right hands. The dwarves approached cautiously. One threw his knife, which bounced off Amazon’s shield. And then the whole group of them began to run. The women pursued. Tullus could not watch. But from the laughing and cheering of the crowd he could tell that the deed was done.
But then more drumming. What’s this? More? Another gate swung open, and this time it was a panther. Black and quick, it had been tormented and starved into an angry killer. Entering the ring, it immediately smelled blood in the sand. It saw the feast of dwarves but then quickly spied the two women moving carefully nearby. They were foe. And the beast knew it.
The panther ran around them in a wide circle, looking for its best opportunity, while the women moved back to back, watching its every move. The panther was crazed and making horrid sounds, to the delight of the audience. The perimeter guards looked nervous and held their shields and swords carefully. This was an unpredictable scene, and anything could happen. The panther might even turn and jump the fence and attack the crowd. Its tail whipped from side to side as it stalked the women. Its eyes never seemed to move. It had one target.
Tullus was transfixed and could not look away. Secretly he prayed that the panther would win, that Roman blood would be spilled this day, that somehow this sport would end unexpectedly. As the panther circled, it closed, tightening its pattern around the women, who turned slowly, watching its eyes. The drummers began a slow, rhythmic beat while the women and the beast studied each other’s gestures.
Suddenly the panther sprang without warning. Explosively. And its front paws hit Maxilla’s shield directly. The woman flew to the ground on her back, and the beast clearly realized its advantage. Maxilla tried to hide under her shield while the panther was swiping at it, clawing to remove it and gain the target of her neck. The arena grew silent. Amazon flung herself onto the back of the animal and began stabbing at it desperately. In one turn, the panther swiped at her, cutting her arm deeply and throwing her into the sand. But she returned with greater ferocity. The two women and the cat were covered with dirt and blood. Amazon’s sword was swinging in the air. Maxilla’s screams could be heard by all in the stands. Tullus found it impossible to look away and held his breath.
Then all action stopped.
The crowd was speechless. Tullus did not blink. There were slow, careful movements in the heap of dirty, bloodied flesh. Amazon arose and looked down at the gnarled mess at her feet. Then Maxilla kicked the carcass of the dead beast from her body and stood on her feet. She was soaked in the cat’s blood. Pulling off her helmet, she raised her sword to the deafening cheers of a thousand Roman voices.
Tullus had never seen Appius so exultant. He was energized. He had come back to life. Blood sport had revived the spirit of the legionnaire. To be a centurion. To be a Roman. No one wanted to leave; they wanted the moment to continue forever. Together Tullus and Appius followed the crowds back into the city, sharing an exuberance Appius had only felt at the close of a battle. He asked Tullus again and again about his favorite spectacle. He wanted to relive every moment.
“And when the panther had the woman down in the sand—my god, I couldn’t believe it. One snap of his jaw and she would have been gone. And then what?” Appius was animated, excited, reveling in the risks taken so near where he had been standing. “It would have been the cat and the other woman alone. Just the two of them. And then what?”
“What then? I think the panther would have bested both of them,” Tullus offered.
“I think so too. Perhaps the arena is no place for a woman. But still, it was a sight I shall not soon forget.”
As they moved across the city, the crowd dispersed. But Appius had another idea. He wanted to end the day perfectly. To continue to show his young scribe how the Via Romana was truly lived. Near the theater he found a street studded with mosaics and sculptures that made clear he had found what he sought: the brothel district of Caesarea.
Figure 4.4. Remains of a single-room shop, or taberna, at Caesarea Maritima
Appius looked at Tullus in an invitation to join him. “I have money. And it will be a day’s perfect end.”
“But are you sure of this? We could just as easily return to the barracks.”
“And miss this? Some of the men told me to find a woman named Venus, who owns a guest house in this district. And that is what we shall do.”
Tullus saw the place first. Exotic and graphic sculptures clung to the wall above the door. Together they walked through an opening that led to an enclosed garden and fountain. Frescoes adorned every wall, mostly of nude men and women in scenes Tullus had never imagined. Soon a beautiful woman approached with two chalices of wine and invited them to sit on the fountain pool’s enclosure in the cool of the shade. She was enchanting. The wine was refreshing. And the scene was exotic, something Tullus had never imagined for himself. This must be Venus, he thought, the owner and overseer of the guest house. She was mature, elegant, self-assured.
Public Sexuality
Brothels like the one Appius visits with Tullus were common throughout the Roman Empire. They were a part of the “public sexuality” well known in both Greek and Roman culture. Temple participation involving sexual activity, public festivals displaying overt fertility cult items (such as the Bacchus Feasts), and dinner parties for men followed by sexual gameplay with hired women were not uncommon. Erotic
poetry, public erotic art, even pottery with erotic images were regular features of Roman life. The Romans felt few scruples about placing limits on male sexuality. Some poets extolled the values of male “explorations” in guesthouses for the sake of healthier families. However, women who belonged to a household were not free to do the same.
Brothels (or buildings devoted to prostitution) were common in virtually every city. They have been excavated in the Holy Land (Bet Sean, or Scythopolis, in southern Galilee provides good examples). But the best examples are without doubt preserved in Pompeii. There brothels have been found nearly intact: exterior advertising sculptures, detailed erotic frescoes and even back rooms complete with private beds.
Once they were settled, Venus disappeared quietly, and soon two new women joined them. One chatted gaily with Appius. Within minutes he was following her to the far side of the courtyard, where they disappeared behind a curtain. The other was young, about Tullus’s age, and she sat on the fountain wall next to him.
“So you are a stranger to this city?” The woman looked at him directly. She was clearly in charge but discreetly so. Her confidence was inviting, not intimidating. Tullus felt his pulse quicken.
“I am. We arrived just weeks ago.”
Figure 4.5. Carved stone bed in a Pompeii brothel
“From the west, I suspect? You look like a man who has traveled greatly. Your accent sounds Greek. Refined. Noble. Not like the men who usually visit us.” Tullus saw her look him over and noticed that she appeared to like what she saw.
Tullus blushed, not recognizing it as the practiced flattery that it was. He found himself intrigued, drawn, excited. The woman moved closer and poured more wine into his chalice from a pitcher that was cooling in the water of the fountain. She dipped her finger into his chalice, deep into the wine, drew it to her mouth slowly and laughed. She never broke her gaze. Tullus thought she smelled of flowers and liked it. Her long hair was carefully groomed, and he found himself entranced by every detail of her face. She was sitting close. Too close, he thought.
