Daniel Mannix - Those About to Die

The more intelligent Romans were perfectly conscious of this deadly trend but they were helpless to prevent it. Augus­tus tried to limit the games to two a year. He found it impos­sible. Marcus Aurelius, who defined the games as an "expen­sive bore," passed a law that the gladiators had to fight with blunted weapons. The popular opposition was such that he not only had to rescind the order but even ended by increasing the number of games from 87 to 230 a year. His annual bill for gladiators alone was about a million pounds. Vespasian, who was famous for being a tightwad and swore that he was going to put an end to this game nonsense, finished by building the Colosseum.

Curiously, the Roman philosophers were almost unanimous in their endorsement of the games. Cicero said, "It does the people good to see that even slaves can fight bravely. If a mere slave can show such courage, what then can a Roman do? Besides, the games harden a warrior people to sights of carnage and prepares them for battle." Tacitus couldn't understand why Tiberius didn't like the fights and quotes the emperor's habit of turning away from scenes of slaughter as a sign of weakness in his character. Pliny speaks of the games appro­vingly and so do many other serious thinkers.

Almost the only Roman philosopher who came out openly against the games was Seneca, who lived at the time of Nero. He records a conversation he had with a spectator at a show.

"But," my neighbour says to me, "that man whom you pity was a highway robber."

"Very well, then hang him, but why nail him to a cross and set wild beasts on him?"

"But he killed a man."

"Let him be condemned to death in his turn. He deserves it. But you, what have you done that you should be condemned to watch such a spectacle?"

Seneca was cordially disliked and finally committed suicide by order of Nero.

Originally only a few Criminals of the worst type were killed in the arena, but when it became obvious that the mob regarded these killings as the main attraction, holocausts of victims were arranged. Finding enough prisoners for these spectacles became increasingly difficult. Probably the persecution of the Christians eventually became only another way of getting fresh fodder for the arena.

The first of the Christian persecutions were under Nero. According to Roman historians, Nero dreamed of turning Rome from a rabbit warren of twisting streets and wooden slums into a city of marble. He also wanted to clear away a large section in the centre of the city where he could build a palace worthy of him—"The Golden House." Later, the Colo­sseum was built on the site of the Golden House as an apology to the people. Nero's agents fired the city, but popular resent­ment forced the emperor to find a scapegoat. He settled on the despised and suspected sect called Christians.

Tacitus tells us: "Nero had all admitted Christians seized. These informed on others who were also arrested, not so much for setting fire to the city as for their hatred of mankind.

Everything was done to make their deaths humiliating. They were dressed in animal skins and torn to pieces by dogs, crucified, or covered with pitch and used as torches to light the arena after dark. Although as Christians they deserved punishment, still people felt that they were being punished to satisfy the emperor's love of cruelty and not for the good of the nation."

Suetonius supplies some other details. Nero used to dress himself up as a lion or a leopard and attack the private parts of men and women tied to stakes in the arena. Afterwards, one of his freemen named Doryphorus would enter the arena dressed as a venador and pretend to kill the emperor. It was probably exhibitions like this that caused St. John to speak of the arena as the "mother of fornication . . . the church of sacred sanguinary." Nero also spent large sums trying to locate a legendary Egyptian ogre who was supposed to kill and eat people. Nero wanted to exhibit him in the arena. The ogre never turned up.

Some of the most terrible persecutions of the Christians took place under Marcus Aurelius in 166 a.d. Marcus Aurelius was one of the most enlightened emperors Rome ever had, but he didn't like Christians. As pacifists, Christians refused to serve in the legions at a critical period when the barbarian hordes were breaching the defences on all sides, they de­nounced wealth which made the Romans regard them as dangerous radicals, and they refused to sacrifice to the em­peror's genius—roughly equivalent today to refusing to salute the flag or repeat the oath of allegiance. Scratched on a wall in Rome there is a crude drawing showing a donkey nailed to a cross with the legend below: "All Christians are donkeys." Marcus Aurelius decided to stamp out this vicious cult and went about it systematically.

Records by the early church fathers tell us that Christians in the arena had red-hot plates of iron strapped to their bodies, their flesh was torn from their bones with hot pincers, they were chained in iron seats over fires, and roasted on spits. Eusebius tells of the death of Blandina, one of these martyrs. She was first forced to watch the death of her friends in the arena. When that didn't break her resolve, she was made to run the gauntlet between two lines of men armed with whips and iron bars. She was then hung from a pole as bait for starved hyenas and wolves. Half-dead, she was cut down and forced to watch her little brother flogged, burned over a fire and finally flung to wild beasts—constantly told that if she would recant, the child's life would be spared. As Blandina still stood firm, she was finally put in a net and swung from the scaffolding of the arena for wild bulls to gore.

We have an eye witness account of these martyrdoms left us by two brothers, Felix and Verus Macarius. The events described took place on October ii, 290 a.d. under the Emperor Maximus.

"The stadium was crowded; Maximus also attended. A number of wild beasts being let loose, many criminals were devoured. We Christians in the stands kept ourselves con­cealed and were awaiting with great fear to see the martyrs brought forth. The martyrs were Tharacus, Probus, and Andronicus. They were carried by other condemned people, having been tortured so they could not walk. They looked so pitiful that we wept, hiding our faces so the crowd would not notice. They were tossed like refuse on the sand. Many people murmured and Maximus shouted to the soldiers, 'Note those people. They'll be down with those Christians if they're so fond of them.'

"The wild beasts were let loose, especially a very frightful bear; then a lioness. Both roared fearfully at each other but did not attack the martyrs, much less devour them. The Master of the Games became enraged and commanded the spearmen to kill them. The bear was pierced through, but the lioness made her escape through a door left open by some of the bestiarii who ran away in terror. Then Maximus com­manded the Master of the Games to let the gladiators kill the Christians and afterwards fight to the death among them­selves. When this tragedy was over, Maximus before he left the podium ordered ten soldiers to mutilate both the martyrs and the gladiators so the Christians couldn't tell them apart"

It was usual for Christians to bribe the arena slaves for the bodies of the martyrs so that they could be given decent burial.

How many Christians were martyred we have no idea. Taci­tus only says that Nero "killed a great multitude of Christians." However, later we have a few statistics. During the persecu­tions under Maximus, nineteen hundred Christians were martyred in Sicily alone. Diocletian killed seventeen thousand in one month. Eusebius says that during one of the persecu­tions, ten thousand men (not counting women and children) were killed in Egypt. The executioners blunted their swords and had to work in relays. Of course, compared to Hitler, who killed 2,500,000 people in concentration camps within a few years, this is pretty small potatoes, but the Romans did their best.