Sunday, November 27

Roman Gladiators: Part 2 - Who are They?

Surprisingly, the prospect of being ripped to shreds by people or animals in front of a cheering crowd of thousands didn't bring in many applicants. So how did they manage to find all these gladiators to participate? Considering the nature of the work, they would have to hire a lot of new people. The gladiator industry has a high turnover. 

To fill the ranks they would grab people from all over the Roman Empire. A large number of them were slaves and others were defeated warriors that refused to capitulate to Roman rule. The gladiators tended to be the lowest of the low in the Roman world; people to look down upon and not feel for when they're being gutted in the arena. Yes, a man may be getting killed in a violent, terrible fashion in front of you, but... he's a bad man, so it's at least moderately OK. At the very least, it allowed those at the bottom to work their way back - albeit rarely and with great difficulty. The pay was exceedingly low, but you could develop a modest living and free yourself from the title of slave if you win enough matches. You may not be considered a person in good standing, but people like their winners, and you would no longer be the bottom rung. 

A grossly misshapen man (left) lightly strokes his opponent on the back.
A soon-to-be-victor (right) utilizes the ramp that was recently
installed to get an advantage on his adversary. (Background) A
model flexes his hot bod.
Oddly enough, the thoughts of higher-ups on gladiators was mixed. While most looked down upon them as the scum of the empire, many looked at their bravery in the face of death as admirable. Since Romans valued strength and combat prowess so heavily, it was sometimes hard not to look at a gladiator and feel they did have some redeemable characteristics. 

Eventually as time passed it wasn't only these lower people anyway. A few went willingly, thinking they could have a shot at fame and fortune that the rest of life couldn't provide. A few were wealthy members of the upper class that for one reason or another upset the emperor. For the aristocrats it wasn't just a risk to life and limb, but a means to shame and degrade them, putting them in the realm of those that are well below their station. (Personally, I'd be more worried about death.) 

Regardless of where you came from, you would first sign an oath. It would be a pledge to the god of the underworld, accepting death in the arena, and saying you will train to fight as a gladiator. Naturally, most of these were signed under duress, save for those that decided that this veritable death sentence sounded like a reasonable business venture. Once you've signed, it wasn't like you were just tossed into the arena right away; the gladiators were an industry, and you would be shipped off to a lanista, a man who would house, train, buy and sell gladiators as a commodity. 

From that point on all the gladiators would do was train, eat and sleep. To be fair, they were typically pretty well taken care of. Purchasing gladiators didn't come cheap, and if the purchaser spent good money on them they would want to assure that they survived. That meant training them well, feeding them a large amount of food to make up for the excess of training that would surely burn up plenty of energy, and keep them medically fit and capable of fighting. Winning gladiators cost more and would be around the next time they were needed, assuming they won. It was a delicate game; a lanista would want them to battle difficult opponents, as that was where the money was. However, a loss meant the possible annihilation of one of your prized fighters. It was a game of having them shoot as high as they could but still win the fights, which was a difficult level to hit. As for the gladiators? They would keep about 25% of the winnings. 

A retiarius on the left fights a man sporting
his finest battle-diaper.
As for the training itself, it wasn't simply getting in top physical condition. They would learn how to fight in one of a number of different styles, typically based on what weapons they held. While in the early days of gladiators every fighter would have a spear and shield, other styles came through to bring a variety to the battles (seeing someone stabbed with a spear became old hat, so now it was time to see someone stabbed with a sword!). A laquearius, for example, used a lasso. A retiarius, a net to ensnare their foe and a trident to stab them. Others simply had a sword and shield, or, if you're going for looking cool rather than practicality, two swords. Usually these brackets wouldn't fight each other, as some styles were superior to others and wouldn't make for fair fights. (I can't picture the lasso guy would have won very many.) Their armour was typically pretty light; a helmet, leg and knee protection, but little on their chest for the dual purpose of showing off their masculinity as well as showing submission to the emperor through a bare, unprotected chest. 

It was a different time. I don't get it either.

The fighting tactic of lying facedown in the dirt
was quickly abandoned after poor performance.
Obviously, with all the weapons and nature of the fights and regardless of how carefully a lanista would plan, gladiators would die. Talking strictly numbers, you would have about a 10% chance of death upon entering the arena. Later, it rose to about 33% when bloodthirsty fans became more ravenous. The reason why it's not 50/50 is because there were a number of ways it could go: the first is simple, in that you go and win; the second is you're killed; the third is you surrender defeated and are subsequently killed anyways, for not putting up a fight that was deemed entertaining enough for survival; the fourth was you were shown mercy and survive, typically for fighting hard and bravely but just not having what it took; the final is a draw, where both sides leave battered but alive. Obviously it's a painful survival rate, but all things considered I expected lower. The average fighter would fall somewhere between 5-35 fights in his lifetime, probably a few a year. One man, Asteropaeus, won no fewer than 107. 

So, we have a number of hyper-manly men fighting it out for glory and honour, but where are all the chicks, right?! Well, they did exist, but it was few and far between. Many didn't like the prospect of it as it was an insult to masculinity, but sometimes they were trotted out to fight as comic relief. It wasn't a very... progressive time, so to speak. They probably didn't even allow members of the LGBTQ community to participate either. Ugh. Disgusting.

Monday, November 14

Roman Gladiators: Part 1 - From Private to Public

There are plenty of the "cool" parts of history that don't live up to the hype, usually due to entertainment media that skews how the facts were to liven it up a little. Typically those things become associated with the actual history, waiting around until some jerk who hates fun pipes up and says "well, actually, that isn't how it is". Vikings are a good example; they weren't massive people with horned helmets, but rather average sized, and had helmets that were most definitely not pointy. However, muscle-bound warriors yelling and helmet-stabbing is far more entertaining, and that's the image we have of them. See: the Minnesota Vikings. As for stunningly large moustaches, that may only be associated with that logo. For more examples, look to 90% of movies that have "based on a true story" at the beginning. People take liberties. That's not necessarily a problem, but it does make learning the real history a downer more often than not.

There are, however, a number of historical ones that most definitely live up to the hype. The historical concept of gladiators not only reaches it, but exceeds it. We're not talking one-on-one battles between a few guys, which is personally how I pictured gladiator fights (although that did, of course, happen) but we're also talking massive pitched battles, occurring only for entertainment; animals from all over the empire brought in incredible numbers to fight against both man and each other; emperors going into the ring to show they're as tough as anyone else; and, for the ladies (or for those gentlemen that were more focussed on Gerard Butler's abs during 300 rather than his killing ability), we're talking men that were such perfect physical specimens that they would wear armour around most of their bodies but their torso, just to show how jacked they were. A gladiator fight as they're seen in the public imagination would be tiresome and mundane compared to the real thing.
I'm sorry ancient pottery makers,  but your depiction
of gladiators standing and idly having a chat
is not helping my "gladiator fights were crazy over
the top" argument.

To be fair, that's how they were at their peak. Their beginnings were much more humble, an idea stolen from other civilizations than the Romans - which is why we know little of how it started, as they wouldn't want to admit it - that was all about a few people fighting to the death at funerals. They believed the blood of prisoners would help ease the passage into death for more important or wealthy folk. Back then, at a funeral, everyone was apparently wishing for more death.

Having a gladiator match at your funeral meant you were somewhat of a big deal, similar to having a large, expensive funeral would be now. Replace "number of flower bouquets" with "number of slaughtered prisoners" and you're on the right track. It was a social symbol, a means to show that the deceased had money, lived a good life, and the people who had the dead's legacy passed to them would show that by throwing a big gladiator party, so to speak. The more gladiators there were, the more popular the person; the real big-wigs at the time would have hundreds of gladiators fighting to the death at their funerals, presumably making it so their spirits would float to the afterlife on a sea of cries of pain and a river of blood: a most pleasant passing. I can see why that was so popular.

"Pardon me, gentlemen, but were we allowed to wear armour?
Oh, woe is me, I don't think I'm getting out of this one", said the
man second from the right.
Around the third or fourth century B.C., the Romans decided that they liked these fights so much that they should start making it a public event. After Julius Caesar's assassination (who personally held a gladiator match with as many as 320 fighters to honour his father during his reign), they used gladiator fights to appease a public that may not have been overly pleased with the assassination of their leader. Suddenly, watching two prisoners battle to the death for the amusement of those watching was no longer just for high society.

One of, if not the only, pre-1900s painting that
doesn't instantly bore me to tears.
All the blood and guts turned out to be a massive success. The games became so popular that amphitheatres were in almost every decently sized town, and visited by people from all walks of life. The emperor would put on the games as a show of solidarity with the people (well, save for those that were killed, I guess) as well as to demonstrate his control not only over the people of Rome but over the animals in the empire.

 In the largest cities the fights would typically be run by the emperor himself, but in smaller ones a wealthy man would take the reins and hold a show. It had to be in the smaller towns because if the fights grew too large, you may be falling out of the emperor's favour; the people who held gladiator fights tended to be rather popular, and growing too popular was taken as a threat. That meant that the largest, most grand fights were held typically in Rome and always on behalf of whomever was the emperor at the time. Under Augustus' rule, his show was said to have had ten thousand fight each other, and 3500 animals killed as well. With the eventual building of the colosseum, 50,000 would come to watch the fights.

So, who was fighting? What kind of fights did they have? Was that loser from the Spartacus television show who fought with a net a real thing? Tune in next time.