Scandal Makers of Rome: Clodius Pulcher

If TMZ existed in ancient Rome, there were certain individuals who would have made fairly regular appearances, but perhaps the most scandalous character of all was a young upstart named Publius Clodius Pulcher.

Born around 92 BC, Clodius was a member of the Claduii family, which traced its roots back through several generations of prominent Romans, and had quite a notorious reputation. Modern comparisons are always shaky, but perhaps they were something like part Kennedy and part Baldwin, with a little bit of Sheen mixed in. Clodius entered the world stage fairly early on, while serving in the Roman military underneath Lucullus, who happened to be his brother in law. But even though Clodius’ commanding officer was his sister’s husband, that didn’t stop him from fomenting a mutiny among his troops, and even allegedy having an incestuous affair with that sister. It was rumored that he was having affairs with not just one, but all three of his sisters, all of whom enjoyed celebrity-like status at the time because of their famed beauty and rumored promiscuity.

Dude Looks Like a Lady

Even these events are not what Clodius is most known for. In 61 BC he became involved in a scandal during the Bona Dea (Good Goddess) festival that captured the minds of the entire city and beyond. The Bona Dea festival was a religious festival exclusive to women. The wife of the pontifex maximus (high priest) would lead a secret ceremony only women could attend. As can be expected, the ceremony drew a certain amount of fascination from men, who entertained rumors that the festival was a haven for all sorts of suspicious activities, and an air of sexual mystique often hung over the event. Added to the fascination was the fact that the pontifex maximus at this time was none other than Julius Caesar himself, whose wife was therefore leading the ceremony.

The scandal came about when a female servant, during the festival, came across another woman wandering the halls of the Caesar household. When spoken to, the “woman” replied in a deep, manly voice, and was isntantly recognized as Clodius. The scandal-maker had dressed in drag to sneak into the sacred ceremony, allegedly to either begin or continue an affair with Caesar’s wife, who Plutarch described as “not unwilling.” This breach of conduct was a grevious religious offense and sent the city into an uproar. Caesar divorced his wife over the incident and Clodius was quickly placed on trial.

Drama in the Courtroom

The trial itself was as dramatic as the events they sought to punish. Clodius claimed he was not even in Rome that day, and thus could not be guilty. He perhaps counted on testimony from his many friends in the senate for support. However, one of his greatest allies at the time, the famed orator Cicero, stood up and shockingly testified against Clodius, claiming that the day of the incident, Clodius was indeed in town and had come to visit him. Clodius viewed this as a betrayal, and indeed it led to many years of escalating animosity between the two. However, Caesar quickly rose to testify, shockingly defending Clodius, and claiming that he knew nothing of the incident. When asked why he would divorce his wife if the thought Clodius was not guilty, Caesar replied that he did so because the wife of Caesar must be above even suspicion. Clodius was narrowly aquitted of all charges, largely due to bribery and manipulation of the jurors.

Clodius was not finished being a prominent public figure, nor was this the last religious upset he caused. After these events, Clodius began a political career, where he was an important player in the drama surrounding the fall of the republic. The details of his unique rise and fall will be explored in a future article.

Further Reading:

Tatum, Jeffrey W. The Patrician Tribune: Publius Clodius Pulcher.
A. W. Lintott, Violence in Republican Rome.
Erich S. Gruen, The Last Generation of the Roman Republic.
Plutarch, Life of Cicero and Life of Lucullus 34.
Cassius Dio, Roman History 36-39.

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This Is Spartacus

The story of Spartacus is an action-packed tale of a slave gladiator who rose to challenge the rulers of Rome. It’s no wonder that this enigmatic character has directly spawned a movie and TV series, and inspired countless similar tales of rebellious gladiators such as the famous Russell Crowe film Gladiator. But who was Spartacus really? And what did he actually do? The truth, as usual, is even more fantastic than the Hollywood version.

Fighting the System

The TV series is full of action and romance... and mostly made up.

It all started in 73 B.C. when a group of cruelly treated gladiators in Capua, just south of Rome, decided to put their skills to work for themselves, and not the entertainment of others. Seventy-eight gladiators were led in revolt by Spartacus, a former soldier known for his keen intellect. They began arming themselves as they traveled, eventually establishing a base on Mount Vesuvius. As they plundered nearby towns, they were joined by other runaway slaves and free men from the countryside, until Spartacus found himself in command of about 70,000 troops. They ransacked the surrounding territory and won several defeats against Roman forces—in one battle Spartacus even managed to steal a Roman Praetor’s horse for himself. Moving to the southern end of Italy, they captured the town of Thurii. The Senate was now forced into action by this indignation. The fact that lowly gladiators had risen up and caused such problems for three straight years was seen as an embarrassment. But finding a leader to take on the slave revolt was a challenge in itself. There was little glory for a commander to be had in putting down a slave revolt, and failure could mean political death. It seemed no one wanted to rise to the challenge.

Spartacus’ Nemesis: Crassus

Marcus Licinius Crassus was known for his riches, and may have been chosen to lead because he could afford to raise an army out of his own pocket. He also quickly made himself known for his brutality. In early battles, some of his troops were disobedient, prompting Crassus to immediately “decimate” 500 of his troops, which meant executing ten percent of them, drawn by lot. This firmly established him as more dangerous than the enemy. Crassus managed to push Spartacus and his troops, who took heavy losses, to the coast, where they were betrayed by a group of pirates who had promised to take them to the island of Sicily, but were nowhere to be found. Setting up a tight siege that hemmed Spartacus in, cutoff from supplies, Crassus had Spartacus right where he wanted him, but he now faced another problem. The Senate, growing worried over how long this war was taking, had summoned Pompey back from Spain. Pompey was a young, popular leader and effective general who had a very quick and irregular rise to power. The last thing Crassus wanted was for Pompey, still riding the political wake of a great military success in Spain, to swoop in and take credit for Crassus’ hard work of putting down the revolt.

Epic Showdown

The Kirk Douglas film, directed by Kubrick, is slightly more accurate, but still not as epic as the real thing.

Pushed to desperation, Spartacus decided to make a stand. He rushed out with his forces in a brutal battle. The conflict that ensued was particularly bloody, involving thousands who refused to surrender. The Roman historian Appian paints a vivid picture of Spartacus’ final defiant moments. After taking a spear to his thigh, Spartacus fell to one knee, supporting himself with a shield while continuing to slaughter Romans who dared to try to finish him off until finally surrounded and killed. However, the battle was not over. A group of 5,000 had run from the battle, straight into the waiting blades of Pompey’s army. Not to be outdone, Crassus decided to make it clear to everyone that he alone was responsible for ending the revolt by taking 6,000 refugees from the battle and crucifying them along the main highway from Capua to Rome. He thus ensured that anyone traveling to the great city would remember his accomplishments in the upcoming consular elections, in what is perhaps the most brutal campaign ad ever.

Rebel Without a Cause?

Spartacus’ revolt took place during a turbulent time in Rome’s history, as the Republic was experiencing dramatic political and social changes. Only ten years after Sulla’s groundbreaking march on Rome, it would be only thirty more years until Caesar’s coup created the chaos that led to the rise of Octavian and the Principate, sometimes called the Age of Empire. In this sense, Spartacus’ revolt could be seen as symptomatic of the social and political strife of the times. Yet, Spartacus’ indecision points to a clear lack of any sort of program. Once given their freedom, Spartacus and his troops merely set about continual looting without seeking to accomplish anything lasting for themselves or others. While it is tempting to turn the rebellious gladiator into a hero, he did not seem to have any long term goals or plans for the people he led, thus sentencing them to the violent death that was becoming all to common for charismatic leaders in the late Republic.

Sources:

Plutarch, Life of Crassus.
Appian, The Civil Wars, XVI, 116-121.
Mary T. Boatwright, Daniel J. Gargola and Richard J.A. Talbert, The Romans: From Village to Empire (New York: Oxford University Press, 2004).

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