slavery

by

Ambition in the Roman Republic – A guest post by A. David Singh

Salvete Romanophiles!

We have a special guest post on Writing the Past this week!

Author, A David Singh is here to talk to us about the idea of ambition in Roman society. We may not be surprised by the fact that Romans were ambitious – one doesn’t build an empire without ambition – but ambition took different forms for people at all levels of Roman society. David has done an excellent job of outlining this, so be sure to keep reading!

If you haven’t read David’s previous guest post about slavery in ancient Rome, then you should also read that by clicking HERE.

For now, it’s time to learn all about Roman ambition!

Ambition in the Roman Republic

By A. David Singh

As some of history’s pre-eminent over-achievers, ancient Romans championed a quality that transformed their city-state to the foremost civilization of antiquity: ambition!   

At its core lay the desire for wealth, power, and prestige. In that respect it was no different from ambition as seen in today’s world. 

Let’s start by looking at this need to create a better life among those at the lowest rung of the Roman strata.

Slaves

Slaves were not citizens of Rome. Not only were they denied statehood, they were also stripped of personhood. Roman society considered them as mere objects or possessions—with no more agency than a piece of furniture or cattle.

Given these circumstances, one might be tempted to imagine slaves as men and women devoid of ambition, with no hope for rising above their lot in life. But that was hardly the case.

Most slaves harboured one viable ambition—to break free from the shackles of slavery and become Roman citizens. 

The Slave Market – oil painting by Gustave Boulanger, 1886 (Wikimedia Commons)

If a slave showed the “right” attitude toward his servitude and discharged his duties satisfactorily—these attributes being open to interpretation by the masters—the slave could be set free by appearing before a magistrate. Once the magistrate had confirmed that the slave was a freedman, the master would slap the slave as a final insult before he started his new life.

Quite often, masters bequeathed freedom to their slaves in their wills. Rarely, slaves could earn their own freedom if they were able to raise enough coin to buy themselves out of slavery. 

The process of becoming freedmen and freedwomen was called manumission.

Because house slaves worked in direct contact with their masters, they could endear themselves to those who held power over them. As a result, house slaves had a better chance of getting manumitted compared to those working on country estates and in mines.

Once manumitted, the slaves transitioned into freedmen/freedwomen, and became citizens of the great city of Rome. Now they were deemed human, and not objects anymore—a significant upgrade in their station.

Freedmen and freedwomen

As citizens, freedmen and freedwomen were entitled to all the civil rights in Rome. However, they were not entirely free of their former masters. Those masters exercised some degree of hold over them by becoming their patrons. 

As patrons, the former masters helped them make strides within the Roman society—by opening doors and helping them both financially and professionally. In return, the clients (freedmen and freedwomen) had to provide services to their patrons, most of which involved either making the patrons wealthier, or by extending their patrons’ prestige further into Roman society. 

Freedmen could not hold political office. So they endeavoured to make a better life for themselves through other means. The easiest avenue was to acquire wealth from business ventures.  

Rome was filled with waves of such newly manumitted freedmen eager to make their mark. Blacksmiths, butchers, barbers, cloth-merchants, and tradesmen dotted the over-populated city, with a singular goal in their minds: make more coin! 

Some even amassed their own slaves—the more slaves a man had, the more prestigious he was considered. This was their way to prove their “equality” to the society that had once enslaved them.

Over time, rich freedmen started marrying into traditional but impoverished Roman families. This became a cultural norm, as it proved to be of mutual benefit—the old Roman families became richer, thanks to the nouveau riche, while the freedmen elevated their prestige and circle of influence.

Even though the freedmen and freedwomen (or children born to them before manumission) could not hold political office, that was not the case for children born to them after they’d gained freedom. Many freedmen and freedwomen encouraged these children to hold political office, thereby vicariously fulfilling their own ambition through their children.

Lastly, the option to join the Roman legions was readily available. Rome was an ever-expanding war machine, eager to recruit men younger than forty-five years. As a legionary, a young freedman could travel the Roman world, earn coin, and even rise to become a centurion. All in all, that was a good plan, unless one was unlucky enough to feel the pointy end of a barbarian’s sword.

The Roman legions

Legionaries—or the foot-soldiers—were the lowest rank in the Roman legion. They fell into several categories, although these categories did not have official standing. 

If a legionary held a modicum of ambition, he’d aspire to become an immunis—or a legionary with special skills, like carpentry or weapon-making. It was even better if he could read and write. He could then become a clerk and be responsible for communications and record-keeping. 

Becoming an immunis allowed one to leave the common herd behind, along with all the menial tasks like latrine duty and heavy-lifting. Though this was only a minor step-up in prestige, it was not an unattractive one by any standard. 

A legionary with no aptitude for special skills aspired to become a principalis. Examples include a tesserarius, who was responsible for sentry duty, and an optio—who was the second-in-command of a century.

Though the salary of a legionary did not increase with these step-ups, any legionary mindful of his dignity and prestige aimed to climb this unofficial hierarchy. His reputation and influence within the legion played a critical role in his ascent. 

Roman legionaries marching in uniform, re-enactment (courtesy Pixabay)

The first official non-legionary rank was a centurion. Principales stood the best chance of becoming centurions. 

Centurions were the backbone of the legion. They were responsible for the day-to-day activities of their legionaries, escorting prisoners, and conducting diplomatic missions. During battle, centurions led the charge alongside their men.

Interestingly enough, not all centurions in a legion were equal (or, to borrow from Animal Farm, some were more equal than others). The centurion of the 1st century, 1st cohort (Primus Pilus) was the senior-most, while the centurion of the 6th century, 10th cohort ranked the lowest. Among other privileges, this gradation determined who got the best seat in a tavern, and who was the last to conduct a fatigue party in the rain. 

That’s prestige on raw display, isn’t it?

The annual salary of a legionary was 1,200 sesterces, and a centurion’s was 20,000 sesterces. The Primus Pilus commanded a whopping 100,000 sesterces (during the 1st & 2nd centuries CE).

While a legionary—upon becoming a centurion—might feel satisfied with his progress up the ladder, that was likely to be the last stop in his career. The ranks above a centurion were populated by men of senatorial classes.

The only exception was the Camp Prefect, or Praefectus castrorum, who outranked the military tribunes (we’ll meet them shortly). The camp prefect was chosen from long-standing centurions of a legion, and would have likely been a Primus Pilus in the past. As the third senior-most officer in a legion—outranked only by the Legatus and Tribunus laticlavius—he was responsible for training and equipment, and held the command of his legion in his superiors’ absence.

And that brings us to the senatorial classes.

Senators and the Path of Honours

During the early republican period, senators were a group of unelected men who advised the magistrates. From the 3rd century BCE onwards, the senate increased its power, and virtually functioned as the government of Rome by exercising control over the assemblies and the magistrates.

Education in rhetoric and experience in law were considered essential preparations for political life. And boys from prominent families were groomed from an early age in these disciplines.

Young men harbouring senatorial aspirations might even join the legions as military tribunes. They were responsible for the administrative duties of their legions. Military tribunes outranked the centurions, but were below the camp prefect.

Their military competence varied (some may have had prior experience in auxiliary units), but what remained constant was their shark-like determination to ascend the Path of Honours.

The Path of Honours (Cursus Honorum) as in the time of Julius Caesar – 1st century BCE (courtesy C. K. Ruppelt – Wikimedia Commons)

Elected officials in the republic were called magistrates. Once a man was elected to his first magistracy, he was automatically admitted to the Senate. 

Quaestores were the lowest magistrates, responsible for the state and military treasuries. They were stationed in Rome and its provinces, and were also embedded in the legions. 

On the next rung were aediles, who supervised public works—repair of temples, streets, sewers, public buildings, and aqueducts. They were in charge of markets (weights and measures, and distribution of grain). Lastly, the aediles organized festivals and public games. Ambitious aediles spent prodigious amounts of coin to attract publicity and vote-catching, to advance their political careers even further.

Tribune of the Plebs: This office was formed in the early republican days to protect plebeians from patricians, when patricians held all public offices. As the title suggests, only plebeians could hold this office. Though technically not magistrates, they functioned very much like the magistrates of the Roman state; they could propose legislation and summon the senate. An important function of the plebeian tribunes was to veto decisions by the consuls and other magistrates, thus protecting the interests of the plebeians.

Praetors were magistrates responsible for the Roman judiciary. They acted as chief judges and at times as deputies to the Consuls. By 80 BCE, Sulla increased the number of Praetors to eight: two were responsible for civil matters, and six for criminal.

Two consuls were elected each year. They were the joint heads of the Roman state and commanders-in-chief of the legions. Consuls presided over Senate meetings and implemented its decisions. Both plebeians (from 367 BCE onwards) and patricians could become consuls. Interestingly, years were named after the Consuls, e.g. what we call 63 BCE was known as the “Year of the Consulship of Cicero and Hybrida”.

In times of crisis, a Dictator could be appointed. His term could be no longer than six months. But during his time in office, he possessed supreme military and judicial authority. An exception was Julius Caesar, who was proclaimed Dictator for life.

Partial view of the Roman Forum. The Curia Julia (or Senate House) is seen in the centre (courtesy Pixabay).

Governors of the Roman Provinces were selected from former praetors and consuls. Accordingly, they were named pro-praetors, or pro-consuls. They also held military command when directed by the Senate.

Governorship of the provinces gave these men free rein over the provinces, and this position was vastly abused to accumulate enormous amounts of wealth. However, most governors considered this their right, since they were not paid a salary during their decades as senators.

The ascent from military tribune to consul (and beyond) brought incremental prestige and influence to the men. No wonder, the senatorial classes aggressively engaged in the pursuit of political power for themselves, and for their family and friends. 

Volatile alliances, political factions, bribery, corruption, one-upmanship, and even marriages and divorces formed the backdrop against which the lives of senators unfolded.

In the Roman republic, senatorship and the Path of Honours remained the sole domain of men. Women could not vote, become senators, or hold any political office. 

So, what did women do to quench their ambition in a male-dominated Rome?

Women and ambition

Roman women lived under the guardianship of the primary male member of their family—the paterfamilias. Fathers played this role during their childhood, and the responsibility was handed over to husbands at marriage. Thus, the social identity of women was defined by being someone’s daughter, and later, by being someone’s wife.

Although there was no shortage of loving marriages in Rome, by today’s standards those women lived in relative submission and obscurity. Therefore, their avenues of ambition have to be understood within the context of their societal limitations.

Trades were open to free born women and freedwomen—both married and unmarried. Plebeians took on vocations like midwifery, hair-dressing, basket-weaving, and cooking, among others. Even patrician women were expected to sew and weave.

On the home front, wives of prominent families would co-host banquets with their husbands and preside over religious activities of the household. Many were well read in Greek and Latin literature.

The last decades of the republic saw the emergence of independent women—especially among the patrician families—who were unwilling to live within the sphere of traditional female virtues like modesty, devotion, and frugality. 

Although women could not vote in elections or hold office, the political milieu of the 1st century BCE was not impervious to women’s influence. 

Graffiti found on the walls in Pompeii indicate that women frequently endorsed candidates for political office. It is quite likely that women attended rallies and canvassed for their candidates.

Some even played a robust role in Roman politics, e.g. Servilia, who—because of her proximity to Julius Caesar—was a figure to reckon with.

Rome was steeped in religion. Priesthood conferred prestige and special privileges upon women, that others did not enjoy. 

Vestal priestesses belonging to the cult of goddess Vesta were considered fundamental to the continuance and security of Rome. 

They could free slaves and criminals by touching them; they had a reserved place of honour to watch games and spectacles; they could own property, and give evidence without anyone doubting their word, and were even entrusted with the safe-keeping of important wills and state documents. 

Vestal priestesses fulfilled their duties for a period of thirty years, after which they would command marital alliances in prestigious Roman families. 

Although Roman ambition came in many flavours, the core drive was to excel and elevate as a collective whole. That ancient model still shines a light for today’s world, nudging us to strive for a better tomorrow. Thank you for your kind attention.    

Marcus Tullius Cicero (106-43 BCE) – Roman senator, lawyer, scholar, and consul (63 BCE) (courtesy Pixabay).

Author Bio

A neurosurgeon by profession, A. David Singh operated on brains invaded by tumors, aneurysms, and other vile maladies. Funnily, after turning a couple (or more) gray hairs, a rather strange affliction invaded his own brain. Characters from a parallel universe besieged his brain cells and refused to leave, unless David transcribed their lives onto paper. At first, he resisted the assault on his cerebral faculties, but these denizens of the Magical Rome Universe kept prodding his gray cells with their antics, forcing him to write their story.

You can enter the Magical Rome Universe through the novel Dead Boy’s Game and the Broken Vow. 

In Magical Rome, three Romans strive to become senators—each to satisfy their unique and diverse ambitions. Villius is a senator’s apprentice, Julius is a victorious centurion, and Calpurnia…well, Calpurnia is a woman living in a man’s world.

To read this story, please visit   https://MagicalRome.com 

I’d like to thank David for writing such an interesting post about ambition. It’s fascinating how ambition plays a part at every level of society. 

Be sure to check out David’s website and his new book in the Magical Rome Universe.

And if you have any questions about ambition in Roman society, be sure to ask your questions in the comments below so that David can answer them.

Thank you again to A. David Singh, and thank you to all of you for reading!

 

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

Slavery in ancient Rome – A guest post by A. David Singh

 Salvete readers and Romanophiles!

This week on Writing the Past, I’d like to welcome fellow author, A. David Singh, who has written a fantastic piece for us about slavery in ancient Rome.

You probably know that slavery was widespread in the Roman world, but what you might not know are the ins and outs of slaves’ lives.

Check out David’s post below for a brilliant introduction to this topic…

Slaves serving at a banquet – mosaic floor. Found in Dougga, Tunisia, 3rd century A.D. (Dennis Jarvis_Flickr)

In the first century A.D., over a million people lived in Rome — and a third of them were slaves.

Ancient Romans considered their households to be a microcosm of the state of Rome, and slaves were an integral part of their households. Slavery was such a key foundation of their society that if an ancient Roman were to time-travel to the present day, he would be surprised to see a society function just fine without slaves.

In addition to cooking, cleaning, and carrying loads within their master’s household or country estate, slaves served another important function — that of elevating the social status of their masters. This is much the same prestige that a champion race-horse confers upon its owner.

How did one become a slave?

Being born into slavery was the commonest way. Children born to a women slave automatically became slaves to her master.

Another way was by capturing enemies. As Rome waged wars far beyond its borders — in Europe, Asia and northern Africa — a steady supply of prisoners of war poured in, who, in lieu of their lives being spared, were sold to the slave-traders. During his Gallic campaigns, Julius Caesar is rumored to have captured over a million prisoners of war in Gaul and sold them into slavery.

Criminals too could be enslaved, but their masters had to be careful about their violent streak. Unwanted babies who were thrown into rubbish dumps outside the city, though technically free, could be picked up by slave dealers or surrogate parents who would sell them into slavery. A similar fate awaited children kidnapped by pirates and other shady elements of society.

Finally, free Roman citizens, if deep in debt, could be forced into slavery. Some of them voluntarily chose to become slaves to repay their debt. However, Roman citizens submitting to slavery was considered illegal.

Where were slaves sold in Rome?

The slave market was commonly held behind the temple of Castor and Pollux, and also near the Pantheon. Men, women and children were displayed on raised platforms, just like fruit stands in a bazaar. They wore dejected looks, being resigned to their fates.

The slave trader adorned them with signboards around their necks with information like place of birth and other personal characteristics. It was a common spectacle to see signs like: Gaul, cook, specializes in making spicy fish and the use of Garum or Greek, ideal for teaching philosophy and reciting verses during parties.

Those who came to buy slaves found it in their interest to ensure that the slaves had no physical or mental defects. So, a thorough examination of their bodies was a common occurrence, and putting them on raised platforms helped to do just that.

A young male, 15 to 40 years old, cost 1,000 sesterces, while a female was priced at 800 sesterces. Much younger slaves or those older than 40 years went cheaper. Of course, prices would have been higher for slaves with special skills like reading and accounting.

The slave market had different days allocated for selling different types of slaves. There was a day for selling strong, muscular slaves meant for heavy labor. Another day for those specializing in trades like bakers, dancers and cooks. Boys and girls meant to work in houses and for banquets had their own day of sale, as did those with physical deformities.

What happened afterwards?

Once they started their lives of servitude, not all slaves had the same luck. The best deal that a slave could hope for was becoming a house slave to a kind master — even better, if the master was an important man in Rome. Moreover, there was also the possibility of being freed one day.

Then there was a class of slaves who worked in shops, under the command of an ex-slave. In addition to lugging heavy loads, they had to contend with the emotional baggage of their boss’ recently concluded life as a slave.

Those less fortunate were sold into miserable hovels of brothels, used pitilessly till they broke down or became useless. But a worse fate awaited those slaves who worked in country estates and mines. They lived in pathetic conditions with little food, frequent beatings, and were even locked in filthy prisons at night. It’s no wonder that they had very short life expectancies.

Wealthy Romans were not the only people to own slaves. The state of Rome had its own collection. These slaves were of another class — public slaves. They worked in public baths, food warehouses, or constructed roads and bridges, or worked in public administration offices. They helped in running the economy of Rome. Life was probably kinder to them than to their counterparts who worked in the mines and country estates.

The conditions for slaves were extreme during the Roman Republic. But it is believed that they eased later on. During the Empire, slaves could earn money, get married (informally) and have children. Killing of slaves was banned.

The Slave Market – oil painting by Gustave Boulanger, 1886 (Wikimedia Commons)

What were master-slave relationships like?

In rigid households, slaves were considered nothing more than objects that could talk and walk. They could be sold, rented, or replaced, just the way we do nowadays to our inanimate possessions. The master always decided the level of relationship permitted to their slaves. They could be friendly, or exploit their slaves, or in extreme circumstances even kill them.

On the other hand, if a slave killed his master, then all the other slaves in the household were slaughtered under the charge that they failed to protect their master from the rogue slave.

However, many masters considered slaves as human beings, worthy of moral behavior, and hence treated them with a degree of respect.

Each master had to balance how he treated slaves with the need to keep them working. Brutal treatments were rare because they would wear out the slaves.

Home-born slaves were most likely to remain loyal to their masters, considering him like their own father (which, in many cases he really was). However, barbarians captured from distant lands took some time to be broken into their new, reduced station in life.

Most often, masters incentivized slaves to work hard and stay loyal. Firstly, they rewarded hard work with generous rations of food and clothing. At times, even allowing them to have children, and occasionally organized sacrifices and holidays for them. Such acts of generosity went a long way in ensuring their slaves’ loyalty.

Secondly, slaves had clearly defined job roles, suitable to the their mental and physical attributes, like cooks, door-keepers, or food-servers. This division of labor generated accountability, as the slaves knew that they could be punished only for jobs that they were responsible for, and not for duties outside their job descriptions.

But the most important incentive for slaves to work honestly and with diligence was the possibility of gaining their freedom and becoming Roman citizens.

Manumission

Unlike the Greeks, the Romans took a liberal view of slavery, regularly incorporating slaves into their own society. Thus slavery was viewed as a temporary state, after which, if the slave had shown the right attitude, they could be set free and become a Roman citizen.

This process of leaving the shackles of slavery and becoming free men and women was called ‘manumission’.

If a master was happy with a slave’s services and felt him worthy of being free, the slave could be set free by appearing before a magistrate. Once the magistrate had confirmed that the slave was a free man, the master would often slap the slave, as a final insult, before he started his new life.

Often, a master would bequeath his slaves’ freedom in his will. This is how most slaves got their freedom. In rare cases, slaves could also buy their freedom, if they could raise enough coin — or get another freedman to buy their freedom.

Manumission was generally practiced in urban regions, where it was possible for slaves to form meaningful relationships with their masters and be in their good books. Those working in country estates or mines did not have direct contact with their masters, and were usually worked to death.

Relief showing manumission of a slave. Marble, 1st century B.C. Musèe Royal de Mariemont (Ad Meskens_Wikimedia Commons)

Those slaves who gained freedom became citizens of Rome, enjoying all civil rights. But this freedom came at a cost: they were obligated to their former masters, who now became their patrons, and the slaves became their clients. As clients, the former slaves had to provide ongoing services, stipulated by their patrons before manumission.

In return for their services, the freedmen received patronage from their former masters in the form of helping them set up businesses, giving them financial assistance, and providing them with contacts, or opening doors in the Roman society.

However, freedmen, though Roman citizens, were ineligible to hold political offices. This rule did not apply to any children born to them after manumission. Such children were freeborn citizens and hence could hold political office.

Sadly, any children born before manumission were not so fortunate, because they remained as slaves in their former master’s household — but as was often the case, the parents bought their freedom once they were rich enough.

Even though freedmen moved out of their former masters’ house, they were still considered part of the household. Some patrons even allowed their former slaves — now clients — to share in their family’s tomb.

In essence, manumission was truly the lifeblood of Rome. It provided generations of new citizens hungry to make their way up in society. Since they could not hold political office, the only way to fulfill their ambitions was by acquiring wealth.

Later, it became a cultural norm that rich freedmen married into traditional, but impoverished, Roman families. This proved to be of mutual benefit — the old Roman families became richer, thanks to the nouveau riche, while the freedmen improved their social standing and circle of influence.

In today’s world, the concept of slavery is outrageous because of the prevalent traditions of civilized society. However, in ancient Rome, slavery was a well established institution. In fact, Rome would have collapsed had there not been any slaves because the Romans did not have complex machinery, like we do, to replace human muscle.

The notion of slavery in ancient Rome should, therefore, be viewed within the context of a different era, where society was entrenched in another set of values.

What practices in our current times, do you think, will be considered outrageous, even barbaric, by future generations? Tell us your thoughts in the comments below.

Author Bio

A neurosurgeon by profession, A. David Singh operated on brains invaded by tumors, aneurysms, and other vile maladies. Funnily, after turning a couple (or more) gray hairs, a rather strange affliction invaded his own brain. Characters from a parallel universe besieged his brain cells and refused to leave, unless David transcribed their lives onto paper. At first, he resisted the assault on his cerebral faculties, but these denizens of the Magical Rome Universe kept prodding his gray cells with their antics, forcing him to write their story.

I’d like to thank David for taking the time to write this fascinating post for us. More often than not, writers focus on the great people of the Roman world, but just as the legions were the backbone of Rome’s military might, so were slaves that of Roman society.

Even though the thought of slavery is definitely unsavory, we can’t forget that it was a major part of the Roman world. Thanks to David for reminding us of that.

Everybody, be sure to sign-up to his mailing list and get the Free books he is offering. It’s always good to have more ‘Ancient Rome’!

As ever, thank you for reading…

Facebooktwitterpinterest
by

The World of Killing the Hydra – Part II – Prostitution in the Roman Empire

The World of Killing the Hydra

We’re going to a different sort of place in this instalment of The World of Killing the Hydra.

In Part I, we explored the beauty of Leptis Magna which is where the book begins, and which was also the home of Emperor Septimius Severus.

But the Roman Empire was not all about beautiful monuments, lavish banquets, and the adoration of the people for the ruler of the time.

In fact, the Roman Empire had its own maze of back streets and alleyways where life was seedier, and more visceral. It wasn’t all polished marble, but rather slick brick and stinking cells.

WARNING: This post is not suitable for readers under 18 years of age. Also, if you are easily offended, some of the pictures of Pompeian frescoes in this post might be a bit too saucy for you. Just a word of warning for the innocent-minded.

eroticpair

We’re going to take a very brief look today at prostitutes and brothels in the Roman Empire.

Now, if you’re suddenly hoping that Killing the Hydra is my attempt at historical erotica, well, you’re looking in the wrong place. The book is not an orgy extravaganza. If you want that, check out the film Caligula with Malcolm McDowell in the title role.

However, you can’t really write about the Roman world without touching on the long-standing role that prostitution and brothels had to play in society.

They existed, and they most certainly flourished. People of all classes, mostly men, made it a normal practice to visit their favourite brothel from time to time.

If you liked the HBO show ROME, you might have an image of Titus Pullo whoring his way through the Subura with his jug of wine in hand. Certainly, this sort of behaviour was not uncommon, especially for troops fresh back from the wars and looking for a good time.

The flip side might be the richer, upper class nobility who may have believed visiting prostitutes was fine, as long as it was done in moderation and didn’t cause a scandal.

The prostitution scene in the Empire was as large and varied as the workers and clients who kept it running. There was something for everyone!

But let’s look at things a bit more closely.

The She-Wolf, or 'lupa', suckling Romulus and Remus

The She-Wolf, or ‘lupa’, suckling Romulus and Remus

 One could say that prostitution has ties to the founding of Rome itself.

You may have read about Romulus and Remus, the brothers who founded Rome and were suckled by the She Wolf, or Lupa.

We have heard of lost children being raised by wolves before, but in the instance of Romulus and Remus, many believe that they were actually raised by a prostitute who found them on the banks of the Tiber. The slang word for prostitute in Latin was lupa.

Nude_couple_in_bed__Roman_fresco_from_the_Casa_del_ristorante__room_f__western_wall__in_Pompeii__c__62-79_AD

And the word for brothel was in fact lupanar or lupanarium.

Clients were drawn in by the sexual allure of displayed ‘wares’, sometimes lined up naked on the curbside, and the various experiences to be had within. The latter were sometimes illustrated in frescoes or mosaics on the walls of the lupanar. These were intended to add to the atmosphere, or were a sort of menu of pleasures to be had.

There were of course ‘high-class’ prostitutes who catered to wealthy and powerful patrons, women who were skilled at conversation, music and poetry. These high end lupae provided an escape, or a feast with friends, in lavish surroundings coupled with a sort of blissful oblivion. Some might have been purchased by their wealthy clients to keep for themselves, and if that was the case they might have ‘enjoyed’ a relatively easy life compared to the alternative.

A lupa's 'office' - a cement bed

A lupa’s ‘office’ – a cement bed

The truth for most, however, was that they were slaves. And slaves in ancient Rome, as we all know, were objects, property to be used and disposed of on a whim.

Prostitutes – women, men, boys, girls, eunuchs etc. – were at the bottom of the social scale, along with actors and gladiators. They could be adored by clients one moment, and shunned the next. And if a lupa was no longer profitable, the leno (pimp), or the lena (madam) might sell them off as a liability, sending them to a life that was possibly even worse.

In ancient Rome, prostitution was legal and licensed, and it was normal for men of any social rank to enjoy the range of pleasures that were on offer. Every budget and taste was catered to, and because of Rome’s conquests, and the length and breadth of the Roman Empire in the early 3rd century, there would have been slaves of every nationality and colour. Clients of the lupanar would have had their choice of Egyptians, Parthians and Numidians, Germans, Britons, slaves from the far East and anywhere else, including Italians.

However, even though prostitution was regulated, don’t kid yourselves. This was not a question of morality, or curbing venereal diseases. This was about maximizing profit – prostitution was also taxed!

In Pompeii, prostitution became a sort of tourist trade. On the street pavement you just had to follow the phalluses to find the nearest brothel! There were something like thirty-five brothels in the town, and that’s not counting the small curbside cells or niches where the cheapest lupae provided quickies to passers-by.

The Great Lupanar of Pompeii

The Great Lupanar of Pompeii

The biggest brothel in Pompeii however, was the ‘Great Lupanar’ located at a crossroads two blocks from the Forum. Many of the frescoes pictured here are from that building which had ten rooms, where most lupanars had just a few.

But we’ve only been looking at prostitution and brothels in Rome and Pompeii. What would they have been like on the fringes of the Empire?

In Killing the Hydra, Lucius finds himself alone and in trouble in the Numidian town of Thugga. This is where he meets one of the secondary characters of the book, Dido.

Dido is a Punic girl who has lost her family and is all alone in the world. She is beautiful, and kind-hearted. But in a world where people were desperate to survive, those who didn’t have protection had few choices. For a young beautiful Punic girl on the North Africa frontier, there would not have been many places that offered a roof, a bed, food and clothing.

Wall painting from Pompeii

Wall painting from Pompeii

Dido is a prostitute in the Thugga brothel known as the ‘House of the Cyclops’, and she spots Lucius, a young, good-looking Roman walking by – a sure bet in her eyes, and perhaps better than her usual clientele.

But she doesn’t know Lucius yet. He’s not the average man out for a good time. He has much more pressing issues on his mind as he walks the streets of Thugga.

The 'House of the Cyclops' in Thugga, modern Tunisia

The ‘House of the Cyclops’ in Thugga, modern Tunisia

When I was doing my research for Killing the Hydra in Thugga (in central Tunisia), Lucius and Dido’s meeting played out in my mind as if they were walking alongside me.

Without giving too much away, Lucius ends up needing this young lupa’s help because he has no one else he can trust.

Can he trust this unknown, Punic girl? Will he go into the lupanar and seek her behind the curtain of her tiny cubiculum?

You have to read the book to find that part out. It is funny how one can find help in the most unexpected places!

sexual_scene_on_pompeian_mural_4

One might think that the subject of this particular post was rather fun to write, that the images above are titillating. And sure, they are to an extent. I don’t mind a bit of risqué material on occasion. Why not?

But then, I can’t help thinking of the lives that these female and male prostitutes had to endure. Very few enjoyed the favour of kind wealthy clients, living in luxurious surroundings.

Prostitutes were slaves and most were probably pumped and beaten for a bronze coin or two before having to receive their next tormentor. These people were objects to the rest of the world, not human beings. They were people’s daughters and sons, mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers. In many cases they’d been taken from their homes on the other side of the world. Perhaps they were all that was left of their family?

For most prostitutes in the Roman Empire, life was a living Hades – just something to remember when looking at this aspect of the larger world of Killing the Hydra.

erotic_scene__c_1-50ad__venereum__private_building__pompeii__man__naples__pd

If you are interested in learning more about prostitution in the Roman Empire, the video below is an excellent documentary that will give you an inside look at the Great Lupanar of Pompeii.

Thank you for reading.

 

https://youtu.be/5uHuFYYO4go

Facebooktwitterpinterest