The Vibenna Brothers And Macstrna—Possibly Forgotten Tyrants (Or Kings) Of Ancient Rome

According to the traditional story laid down by Livy and other ancient Roman historians, there were only seven kings who ruled Rome during the city-state’s regal period: Romulus, Numa Pompilius, Tullus Hostilius, Ancus Marcius, Tarquinius Priscus, Servius Tullius, and Tarquinius Superbus. These seven men, at least in the traditional scheme of things, were the sole rulers of Rome for the span of about 244 years (753-509 BCE)—an average of about 35 years per king. Given that even the most stable monarchies of the ancient and medieval world all hovered at average reigns of about 20 years or less, the timeline and list of kings presented by Roman tradition has long been viewed with skepticism. In such a militarily- and politically-tumultuous region as ancient Italy, many historians are inclined to believe that numerous unknown Roman kings and tyrants existed in pre-Republic Rome, but were forgotten by the later Romans, who only began publishing their own histories around 200 BCE.

A certain Etruscan adventurer known as Macstrna is one of those possibly lost kings or tyrants of pre-Republic Rome. He was a follower of the Vibenna brothers (Caeles and Aulus), a pair of twins from Vulci, Italy, who were powerful Etruscan chieftains living around the time of the regal period in Rome. The Vibenna brothers and Macstrna were mentioned by ancient antiquarians (Varro, Verrius Flaccus) and historians (Tacitus, Dionysius of Halicarnassus, Claudius), and archeologists have found several objects bearing their images or names, some of which date back as far as the 6th century BCE. From these sources, a framework of their lives—albeit a vague and incomplete one—can be constructed to bring these figures partially out of obscurity.

Caeles and Aulus Vibenna were both powerful chieftains and can probably be classified as condottieri—warlords with enough power to operate independently of their homeland’s government. Macstrna was their most prestigious follower, and he became the right-hand man of Caeles. When the powerful brothers and Macstrna ran afoul of their own people, they apparently chose Rome as a place of exile, where they were often known as ‘Caelius’, ‘Olus’, and ‘Mastarna’. Some Romans also called the brothers by the name ‘Vivenna’ instead of Vibenna. According to ancient antiquarians and historians, Aulus and Caeles each influenced Rome their in own way. Caeles, in particular, was reportedly so helpful to the Romans that he was given an estate on one of the Seven Hills of Rome. Yet, that pales in comparison to what Aulus may have achieved—the fascinating Chronography of 354, in its Chronicle of the City of Rome, claims that Olus (as the Romans called Aulus) became a king of Rome. It must be said, however, that no other ancient historian, antiquarian, or piece of archaeology yet found has corroborated the claim of the Chronography of 354. Aulus/Olus, be he a king or a rich refugee, was said to have been eventually murdered in Rome and his remains rested on a certain Roman hill. According to tradition, when the head (caput) of Olus was later found on that hill, the Romans began calling the site the Capitoline Hill.

Caeles, Aulus and Macstrna, however, were not always friendly with Rome. One reported episode where the Vibenna brothers and their trusty champion, Macstrna, were enemies of Rome was painted in detail on a tomb wall in Vulci around the 4th century BCE—this wall was rediscovered in 1857 at a location called the François Tomb. The paintings (which were unfortunately hauled away to a private villa) showed an interesting scene that depicted the Vibenna brothers and four companions (including Macstrna) in an armed struggle against four enemies. Along with each painted figure was a written name that identified each person in the scene. Interestingly, among the men fighting the Vibenna brothers was a man labeled by the original painter as ‘Cneve Tarchunies Rumach,’ which can be Latinized to Gnaeus Tarquinius of Rome. The Tarquin family, according to Roman tradition, produced two kings of Rome (Lucius Tarquinius Priscus and Lucius Tarquinius Superbus)—nevertheless, it must be said that no Gnaeus Tarquinius was ever mentioned in the traditional Tarquin family trees provided by ancient historians.

Upon analyzing the painting further, scholars discovered clues that led them to make an interesting theory about the meaning of the scene. In the painting, Macstrna can be seen cutting binding rope from the hands of his friend, Caeles Vibenna. Additionally, all but one of the Vibenna party was painted in the nude, whereas all of the opposing faction was depicted with some sort of clothing. Scholars have interpreted these clues to mean that the Vibenna brothers and their associates had been captured and imprisoned by Gnaeus Tarquinius of Rome. The single clothed Vibenna supporter, scholars theorize, then orchestrated a successful prison break, allowing the naked (but now armed) escapees to overcome their captors.

Little is known of the death of Caeles Vibenna, but when the powerful Etruscan chieftain did eventually die, it seems that his lieutenant, Macstrna, took command of the leaderless group and became a chieftain in his own right. Like the Vibenna brothers, Macstrna, too, was said to have run afoul of his Etruscan homeland and traveled to Rome. The emperor and historian, Claudius (r. 41-54), included some information about Macstrna in a speech he delivered in 48 CE, and a copy of the speech has survived on a bronze tablet found at Lyons. Claudius stated, “If we follow Etruscan sources, he [Macstrna] was once the faithful companion of Caelius Vivenna and took part in all his adventures. Subsequently, driven out by a change of fortune, he left Etruria with all the remnants of Caelius’ army and occupied the Caelian hill, naming it thus after his former leader” (Table of Lyons, ILS 212.I.8-27). The Roman historian, Tacitus (c. 56-117+), agreed with Claudius that the Caelian hill was named after Caeles/Caelius: ““the [Caelian] hill was originally called Oak Hill because of its dense growth of oak trees, and was later named ‘Caelian’ after Caeles Vibenna, an Etruscan chief who, for helping Rome, had been granted the hill as a residence by Tarquinius Priscus—or another king” (The Annals of Imperial Rome, Book IV, section 65).

After Macstrna took up residence in the late Caeles Vibenna’s estate on the Caelian hill, he apparently delved into Roman politics. According to Emperor Claudius, Macstrna ultimately became a king. The emperor offered an intriguing (but unverified) theory that linked Macstrna to one of the more popular Roman monarchs: “Servius [Tullius] changed his name (for in Etruscan his name was Mastarna), and was called by the name I have used, and he obtained the throne to the greatest advantage of the state” (Table of Lyons, ILS 212.I.8-27). As of now, however, there is still no evidence to truly link Macstrna to the Roman king, Servius Tullius, and until further evidence is found, the traditional stories of these two figures are too different to satisfactorily mesh them together. Yet, many historians do find it plausible that, instead of being another name for Servius Tullius, Macstrna could have simply been an entirely separate and unknown king or tyrant of Rome. Some theorize (again without definitive evidence) that ‘Macstrna’ is not a name, but a corrupted variant of the title, magister, which, when lengthened to magister populi, becomes an alternative title for dictator. Unfortunately, with the scant amount of information we currently have, the truth about the extent of power wielded by the Vibenna brothers and Macstrna will remain clouded in mystery.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (A scene of ancient Rome painted by Vincenzo Camuccini (1771–1844), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
• The Annals of Imperial Rome by Tacitus, translated by Michael Grant. New York: Penguin Classics, 1996. 
• The Beginnings of Rome by T. J. Cornell. New York: Routledge, 1995. 
• https://referenceworks.brillonline.com/entries/brill-s-new-pauly/caput-oli-e226900 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Rome#ref387601 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Seven-Hills-of-Rome 
• https://www.ancientworldmagazine.com/articles/brothers-vibenna/ 
• http://www.tertullian.org/fathers/chronography_of_354_16_chronicle_of_the_city_of_rome.htm
• https://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-6788
  
  
   

The Disturbing Myth Of The Horatii And The Curiatii

According to tradition, the kingdom of Rome began in the mid 8th century BCE. Despite its centuries of existence, Greek scholars did not start taking serious interest in Rome until the 4th and especially the 3rd century BCE, by which time Rome had become the undisputed dominant power in Italy and began clashing with its Mediterranean rival, Carthage. The Romans, themselves, apparently never produced a historian until around 200 BCE, around which time Senator Quintus Fabius Pictor began writing the first official native Roman historical works. Unfortunately, by the time Pictor began writing, much of Rome’s written records were likely destroyed in the Gallic sack of Rome in the early 4th century BCE, and the surviving oral history about Rome’s founding would have been incredibly corrupted after untold generations of retellings. Therefore, when a Roman scholar such as Livy (c. 59 BCE-17 CE) set out to tell the story of the founding of Rome, he had to work with dubious documentation, such as historic names without historical context, and folkloric tales that were often adapted to the structure of preexistent stories of Greek mythology.

The tragic and disturbing tale of the Horatii and the Curiatii is one of the myths that Rome created as an explanation as to how Rome expanded its influence over the nearby community of Alba Longa. Historically, Alba Longa is believed to have been in existence well before 1,000 BCE and was a powerful city in Italy until the 7th century BCE, when it was presumably challenged by Rome and ultimately destroyed around 600 BCE. While we will never know specific details of the conflict between Rome and Alba Longa, writers such as Livy preserved the conflict, albeit in a dramatic and embellished fashion, within their works on the folklore of early Rome.

In his History of Rome, Livy alleged that the war between Rome and Alba Longa began because of a cattle dispute. As the story goes, both cities were stealing the livestock of the other and neither side wanted to return the stolen property. War was eventually declared to settle the issue, but before battle commenced, the leaders of the cities agreed to an odd solution—the war would be settled with a duel between chosen champions of each city. Oddly enough, both Rome and Alba Longa chose as their champions trios of triplet brothers—the Horatiii and the Curiatii. According to Livy, there was some debate as to which set of brother belonged to which city, but most accounts of the tale placed the Horatii in the Roman camp.

The match-up between the Horatii and the Curiatii was unfortunate, for the Roman triplets were all set to be brothers-in-law of one of the Alban triplets, as a sister of the Roman Horatii had been recently engaged to marry one of the Curiatii brothers. Nevertheless, one of the themes of Livy’s tale was that the city is more important than love and family, so, naturally, the Horatii and Curiatii all agreed to fight to the death on behalf of their homelands. The soon-to-be-married brother from Alba Longa, however, did not shed all his emotion—when he arrived for the duel, he was proudly wearing a cloak that had been lovingly made for him by his betrothed. The six warriors entered a list, or arena, set up by the two armies, and the duel began to the sounds of trumpets and cheers.

Livy painted the scene of the duel with great attention to drama. To the horror of the Romans, their Horatii triplets fought terribly. The Roman brothers fell in quick succession until only one, Publius Horatius, was left alone to face all three Curiatii siblings. Staring down the three warriors, Horatius could think of only one strategy—to run. The Romans looked on with dismay as the three Alban warriors chased the lone champion from Rome around the arena. Yet, Horatius was sprinting around the battlefield for a reason. As the Alban champions were chasing their prey, they fell into a single-file line. Seeing an opportunity, Horatius suddenly stopped and began his attack. Using good footwork and well-placed blows, the lone Roman sliced through his three pursuers, dropping one after the other as they raced toward him individually. The Romans cheered as Horatius killed the first Curiatii and then the second. For his final opponent, Publius Horatius faced the man who would have been his brother-in-law if war had been avoided. Showing no mercy, the Roman killed his foe and even looted from his body the cloak that was handmade by Horatius’ sister.

With the duel over, the Albans were said to have made momentary peace with Rome. Noncombatants waiting with anticipation in Rome for news of the duel could see the Roman army celebrating on the road as it returned home. At the forefront of the Roman troops was Publius Horatius, proudly wearing the plundered bloodstained cloak that had been made by his sister. While the population of Rome cheered for the army’s valiant return, one woman at the Capena gate could only cry.

According to Livy, the betrothal between Horatius’ sister and the slain Curiatii warrior was not a coldly arranged marriage for politics or wealth, but actually a union of genuine love and affection. Therefore, when the sister saw her brother wearing the bloodied cloak that she had given to her beloved, she could not suppress her grief and bawled for all of Rome to hear. Publius Horatius, enjoying all of the cheers and praise, soon heard someone killing the triumphal mood with wails and sobs. The sound of someone not appreciating his victory annoyed him and his anger did not abate even after discovering it was his own sister who was crying.

At this point, the tale takes an incredibly dark turn. Instead of consoling his distraught sister, Horatius did the unthinkable. He grabbed a sword, angrily marched over to his sobbing sibling and plunged the blade deep into her chest, piercing her heart. As she bled to death, Horatius growled abuse over his sister’s body: “’Take your girl’s love,’ he shouted, ‘and give it to your lover in hell. What is Rome to such as you, or your brothers, living or dead? So perish all Roman women who mourn for an enemy!’” (History of Rome, Book I, section 26).

To Rome’s credit, the myth states that the Romans immediately arrested Horatius and put him on trial for murder. Yet, the murdered sister was not given justice by the court. The Roman populace cried out for Horatius to be spared, and even the father of the Horatii (who had lost two sons and one daughter that day) spoke in defense of his son. The only way for the father to save his last living child was to besmear the memory of his own daughter. Livy wrote, “In the course of the hearing the decisive factor was the statement of Horatius’ father, to the effect that his daughter deserved her death” (History of Rome, Book I, section 26). With such pleas on his behalf, Horatius was said to have been acquitted with almost no punishment. Livy traced the origin of a mysterious wooden gateway, the Tigillum Sororium (Sister’s Beam), to this myth. He alleged that members of Horatius’ family had to regularly pass under the Sister’s Beam gate as a sort of penance for the murder.

Ironically, the Curiatii triplets, the two Horatii brothers and their tragically slain sister all died for nothing. According to the tale, the Albans resumed their hostilities against Rome after the duel. In response, Rome once again went to war and this time destroyed the city of Alba Longa. In the end, their deaths only served to convey the theme that the city of Rome was more important than individual Romans, the bonds of family and the cherished emotion of love.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Picture Attribution: (Painting depicting the myth of the Horatii and the Curiatii, by Giuseppe Cesari (1568–1640), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons).

Sources:

• The History of Rome by Livy, translated by Aubrey de Sélincourt. New York: Penguin Classics, 2002.
• https://www.britannica.com/topic/Horatii-and-Curiatii 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/ancient-Rome 
• https://www.britannica.com/place/Alba-Longa 
• https://www.britannica.com/biography/Quintus-Fabius-Pictor 
• http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/E/Gazetteer/Places/Europe/Italy/Lazio/Roma/Rome/_Texts/PLATOP*/Tigillum_Sororium.html
• https://www.encyclopedia.com/literature-and-arts/classical-literature-mythology-and-folklore/folklore-and-mythology/alba-longa  
• http://oxfordre.com/classics/view/10.1093/acrefore/9780199381135.001.0001/acrefore-9780199381135-e-240 

Emperor Nero Had His Own Mother Killed

Lucius Domitius Ahenobarbus, the future Emperor Nero, was the son of Agrippina the Younger and Cnaeus Domitius Ahenobarbus. As the great-nephew of the reigning emperor, Claudius (r. 41-54), the young man was royalty, but not very high on the list of imperial succession. This was especially true since Claudius had a son named Britannicus. Yet, Britannicus’ mother, Messalina, was executed after having an affair. At the time when Claudius became single, Agrippina the younger was a widow and, despite being the emperor’s niece, she caught Claudius’ eye. The two married in the year 49 and Claudius adopted her son, giving him the named Nero.

The Numidian Chief, Tacfarinas, And His Persistent Wars Against Rome

In the first two decades of the 1st century, a peculiar military leader named Tacfarinas asserted himself as a constant thorn in the side of the Roman Empire by unrelentingly threatening their interests in North Africa. Thankfully for us, the Roman historian and statesman, Tacitus (c. 56-117), kept fairly detailed records of Tacfarinas’ campaigns within his book, The Annals of Imperial Rome. Even though The Annals focused on the actions of the imperial family, especially Emperor Tiberius (r. 14-37), Tacfarinas’ name made numerous appearances in the pages, popping up each time he launched another invasion of Rome, which seemingly occurred every other year. So, even though Tacitus often sidelined describing Tacfarinas’ reign of terror in favor of discussing political maneuverings in Rome, a decent sketch of Tacfarinas’ life can be drawn from The Annals of Imperial Rome.

Tacfarinas was born in Numidia, and like many of Rome’s greatest threats, he began his career in the Roman military as an auxiliary soldier serving in North Africa. He eventually deserted from the Roman military and started a new life as a bandit. His ambitions, however, were too broad for common thievery. He gathered a large band of marauders and began to teach them Roman military discipline and tactics. Once he had gathered enough resources, he even equipped an elite core of his forces in Roman-styled weaponry and armor. Finally, Tacfarinas somehow maneuvered himself into becoming chief of the Musulamian tribe, a strong Numidian people known for their great warriors. With his newfound power, Tacfarinas was able to strike up a secret alliance between his own troops and other anti-Rome factions in North Africa. Along with Tacfarinas’ own bandits and Musulamian soldiers, the Cinithii tribe and dissidents from the Roman-aligned kingdoms of Mauretania and Garamantes also joined the growing coalition.

The Light Of The Moon Suppressed A Roman Army Mutiny In Pannonia

Shortly after the death of Augustus in 14 CE, the civilian soldiers in the three Roman legions stationed in Pannonia were incited into mutiny. Most of the known information about this event was recorded by two statesmen-historians of the Roman Empire, Tacitus (c. 56/57 – 117) and Cassius Dio (c. 163-235). Tacitus, perhaps the greatest orator of his time, gave the lengthier and more detailed account of the mutiny, but he was also known to take artistic license with some of his historical descriptions. Nevertheless, both historians claimed that the goal of the mutiny was to bring about military reforms, specifically a restriction of military service to 16 years, as well as an increase in pay from one sesterce a day to one denarius (4 sesterce) per day. Without these changes, the mutineers claimed that the excessively long period of military service, combined with the harsh discipline and severe punishments in the Roman Army, were simply unfair.

The Strategy Of The Decoy Camp—Alexios Komnenos Versus Nikephoros Basilakios

In the autumn of 1078, a young general (and future emperor) of the Byzantine Empire by the name of Alexios Komnenos handed a freshly captured rebel leader named Nikephoros Bryennios the Elder over to an agent of Emperor Nikephoros III Botaneiates (r. 1078-1081). In exchange for the prisoner, the agent of the emperor delivered a message for Alexios containing a new task set to him by the crown. Around the same time that Bryennios’ rebellion was crushed, another rebellion had erupted in the city of Dyrrakhion (modern Durrës, Albania), led by Nikephoros Basilakios—Alexios’ task was to hunt down this third Nikephoros (whom we will simply refer to as Basilakios) and put a stop to the rebellion.

John Skylitzes’ Scandalous Libel Against The 9th-Century Patriarch Of Constantinople, John VII “The Grammarian”

Those who win victory can, and sometimes do, distort the memory of the factions that they triumphed over. This reality can be found in the Synopsis of Byzantine History by John Skylitzes, a historian who thrived during the reign of Emperor Alexios Komnenos (r. 1081-1118). In his synopsis of the history covering the reigns of emperors throughout the 9th, 10th and 11th centuries, Skylitzes gave little-to-no sympathy to the proponents of Iconoclasm—a Christian movement that condemned the use of ‘icons,’ such as images and sculptures, claiming that the veneration of these items constituted idolatry. Empress Irene almost eradicated the movement in 787, but Iconoclasm recovered and was only defeated decades later, on the instigation of Empress Theodora in 843. John Skylitzes, despite writing centuries after the fall of Iconoclasm, apparently still held a grudge against the last Iconoclast Patriarch (religious leader) of Constantinople—John VII “the Grammarian.” In his history, Skylitzes accused John the Grammarian of almost every horror imaginable.

Startling Saints—The Adventures of Saint Germanus of Auxerre

Saint Germanus (or Germain) of Auxerre lived in one of the most chaotic times in Roman history, under the reigns of some of the most incompetent Roman Emperors that ever existed. His life, as a Roman government official and then as a bishop, was notable and influential enough to ensure him a place in the history books, yet Germanus’ biographers and commentators also recorded the numerous miracles that were attributed to the saint. In this account, the miracles will be left in the narrative, so that readers can decide for themselves how much or how little credence to give the miraculous events reported to have occurred during St. Germanus’ life.

The Tragic Life Of The Roman Emperor, Julian The Apostate

When Constantine the Great became the ruler of the entire Roman Empire in 324 CE, most of his relatives probably thought they would be set for life in positions of power and luxury. Actually, when Constantine died in 337, only a few people in the royal family benefited. The large empire was divided between Constantine’s legitimate sons, Constantine II, Canstans I and Canstantius II. These three brothers each adopted the title of emperor and ruled their own domains. Unfortunately for all of the other relatives and cousins who were not direct, legitimate heirs of Constantine the Great, their fate was very different. Instead of being seen as allies and kin, the three new emperors saw most of their family as rivals and enemies.

The Chaotic Reigns Of The Sons Of Constantine The Great

Constantine the Great, emperor of the Western Roman Empire (c. 312-324 CE), and later the entire Roman Empire (c. 324-337), climbed to ultimate power after defeating a host of rivals in a long and bloody civil war. Despite experiencing firsthand the complications that come with dividing a single empire among multiple emperors, Constantine the Great groomed all three of his legitimate sons for rule and gave them each the title of caesar. When Constantine the Great died in 337, none of his sons were given primacy. All three of them, Constantine II, Constans I, and Constantius II all proclaimed themselves to be an augustus (or emperor), and divided the empire amongst themselves. Constantine II ruled Roman Britain, Gaul (France) and Spain. Constans I took Italy, North Africa (excluding Egypt) and some of the Balkans. Constantius II took the remainder of the Balkans, and the rest of the Roman lands, with land spanning around the Mediterranean from Greece to Egypt.

Although the empire fell in succession to Constantine’s sons, it was these sons, and these sons only, who controlled the Roman Empire—all other relatives were considered a threat. In a plan probably masterminded by Constantius II, the emperors purged the land of potential rivals, including many of their own cousins and even a half-brother of Constantine the Great, ironically also named Constantius. Two notable imperial cousins that survived the purge were Gallus and Julian, the former would be a future caesar and the latter a future emperor.

Virgil's Underworld: A Land Of Death...And Reincarnation

  (Dante and Virgil in Hell, by Crescenzio Onofri  (–1714) and Livio Mehus  (1630–1691), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

In The Aeneid, an epic poem written by the Roman poet, Virgil (70-19 BCE), the main character of the story (Aeneas) traveled into the underworld to meet his father. The scenes that Virgil painted about the realm of the dead in book six of his masterpiece are likely some of the most vivid and elaborate illustrations of the ancient Greco-Roman underworld.

Virgil’s description of the underworld was so compelling that it undoubtedly served as an inspiration for Dante Alighieri’s conception of Hell in his famous work, The Divine Comedy. Despite Virgil’s disquieting portrayal of the gloomy, depressing and gruesome side of the underworld, he also described a highly interesting system of reincarnation that occurred in the Fields of Elysium. Although Virgil was not the only person from ancient Greece and Rome to envision reincarnation—Pythagoras and his followers also believed in rebirth—it is, nonetheless very interesting to read about souls in Greco-Roman mythology participating in a system of reincarnation similar to what can be found in Buddhism and Hinduism.

Journeying to the Underworld

  (Aeneas and the Cumaean Sibyl, by François Perrier  (1594–1649), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

Aeneas’ adventure to the underworld began when he decided to break into the realm of the dead to speak with his father. He sought out a renowned Sibyl in Cumae to teach him how a living man could enter the realm of the dead. She directed him to a Stygian marsh, where he needed to obtain a golden bough that would be vital to them during their journey into the depths of the underworld.

Six Years of Chaos In Byzantium: The Cumans Vs. The Pechenegs Vs. The Byzantine Empire Vs. Çaka Bey of Smyrna

The Invasion

(The Pechenegs defeating the Rus, from the Skyllitzes Matritensis, fol. 173r, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

In 1087 CE, a horde of Pecheneg warriors (followed by their families) poured down from the steppes above the Black Sea and into territory controlled by the Byzantine Empire. The empire was ruled at that time by Emperor Alexios Komnenos, who had led the empire since 1081 CE. These tens of thousands of hostile warriors threw the empire into such a panic that memories of the old ‘barbarian’ enemies of the Roman Empire were revived to describe the new Pecheneg threat. Anna Komnene, daughter of Emperor Alexios, likened the invaders to the ancient Scythians, Sarmatians and Dacians in her history, The Alexiad. She estimated that the Pechenegs had crossed into imperial territory with as many as 80,000 warriors.

Emperor Commodus—History Is Better Than Fiction

The Real Emperor Commodus Was Much More Bizarre and Odd Than The Way He Is Portrayed In Film

  (Bust of Commodus photographed by Wolfgang Sauber in the Antiques Museum in the Royal Palace, Stockholm, via Creative Commons (CC 1.0))

Film Portrayal

After watching the 2016 Netflix miniseries-documentary hybrid about Commodus called Roman Empire: Reign of Blood, I began to think about the ways Emperor Commodus has been depicted in film. In the hit movie, Gladiator, released in 2000, Commodus was portrayed as an incestuous snob who murdered his father, the great philosopher-emperor Marcus Aurelius.  At the end of that movie, Commodus was killed in a gladiatorial battle with the masses of Rome in audience. It made great cinema, but it was hardly a factual depiction of Commodus’ reign.

Netflix’s Roman Empire: Reign of Blood was much more factual, but there were noticeable differences between what the historians featured on the show said, compared to how the filmmakers recreated the scenes. The information provided by the historians was spot-on, but the filmmakers could not help but make the scenes more elaborate. The two scenes that really stood out in this regard were Commodus fighting as a gladiator and the depiction of his assassination. In the show’s gladiatorial scenes, Commodus was shown to be in dramatic (mostly fair) fights, but historically, Commodus likely only fought the crippled, the injured or the incapacitated in the arena. If he actually fought against skilled opponents, he would win by forfeit without any real combat. As to Commodus’ assassination, Gladiator and Roman Empire: Reign of Blood, both set the scene up as a final hand-to-hand combat showdown between the emperor and a gladiator, while history claims that Commodus was strangled by his wrestling instructor while bathing.

Yet, criticism is not the aim of this article. In the following paragraphs, read about the life and reign of Commodus and determine for yourselves if the historical Commodus is more interesting and bizarre than the interpretations provided by filmmakers.

Robert Guiscard and Emperor Alexios In The Chaotic Battle of Dyrrakhion (1081 CE)

A Bloody Fight On Land And Sea Between An Emperor And An Adventurer

The Norman Invasion

Emperor Alexios I Komnenos of Constantinople(r. 1081-1118 CE from his seat of power in modern-day Istanbul) had the misfortune of his country being invaded by one of the Medieval Age’s greatest opportunists—Robert Guiscard. Norman warriors and mercenaries, like Guiscard, had found that there were plentiful lucrative opportunities among the warring counts and dukes of Italy. Guiscard became the Duke of Apulia (the heel of Itay) in 1059, and from there he expanded his influence into Calabria, Naples and Sicily. While he increased his own power, Guiscard was also undermining the authority of the emperors of Constantinople in southern Italy.

(Medieval illustration of Emperor Alexios Komnenos (r. 1081-1118), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons)

When Robert Guiscard took the region of Bari in 1071, he had expelled the imperial ambitions of Constantinople from its last foothold in Italy. As soon as Emperor Alexios Komnenos came to power in 1081, the Norman conqueror took advantage of the instability caused by the regime change to invade the Byzantine Empire. Guiscard claimed he invaded the empire to reinstate the deposed emperor, Michael VII (r. 1071-1078), whose son, Constantine, had married Robert’s daughter, Helen. Few inhabitants of the Byzantine Empire, however, actually believed that the Norman warlord would relinquish control of the empire if it fell into his hands.