To us, gladiators seem to encapsulate the essence of ‘Ancient Rome’, sadism, decadence, absurd theatricality and so on. On the face of it they embody a corrupt political system, enabling criminal narcissists (Roman emperors) to lord it over a deluded populace by offering violent games where hated outsiders are put to death. And of course, gladiator shows are fundamentally repellent, but their reality was much more complex than the stereotype suggests, fascinating both in its own right and in what it reveals of wider Roman culture.
The usual route to becoming a gladiator was through capture in war, criminal penalty or servitude. The Colosseum’s opening games, for example, saw individuals forced to fight who were captives from the Judaean wars of Vespasian and Titus. Some also volunteered to become gladiators, drawn by a taste for risk, perhaps, or potential popularity or financial reward. However, if a Roman senator fought in the arena he risked bringing his class into disrepute, since he made himself a spectacle for the masses to enjoy. The same applied to emperors, who could safely be fans – paying close attention showed they had the common touch – but risked disgrace by actually performing. One such imperial performer was Commodus (played by Joaquin Phoenix in Gladiator), fighting other gladiators and killing animals by the hundreds, in arena appearances ridiculed by our hostile witness, the senator Cassius Dio.
Gladiator battles were particularly popular in the second century CE. Its opening years saw the largest attested games at Rome, 10,000 gladiators fighting in victory celebrations lasting 123 days, put on by the emperor Trajan. This represented a massive expansion from the earliest combats of the 3rd century BCE, where a few pairs of fighters would honour the dead at funerals. By the time Gladiator and its sequel is set (late 2nd – early 3rd centuries CE), gladiatorial shows had been seen across the empire to its outermost margins, from Caerleon to Crimea. But by then the system was under strain - games givers were protesting about the expense, indicating either that gladiatorial recruits were in short supply or that lanistae (trainers) were squeezing sponsors of shows by increasing hire costs (gladiators were often rented rather than purchased).
Unlike in Gladiator II, there is no evidence for rhino-riding gladiators but rhinoceroses did feature in the shows, as animals were pitted to fight against one another. The first time a rhino appeared was at the opening games for the Colosseum, this being a coup de théâtre to titillate a crowd by then used to exotic animals. The ecological impact of the demand for animals for games, both apex predators like big cats as well as massive herbivores (rhinos, hippos, elephants etc.), is a developing research area.
Modern representations contribute their own myths to gladiatorial shows. The signal from the crowd to reprieve or kill a defeated combatant - thumbs up or thumbs down - owes its hold on our imagination thanks largely to a 19th century painting. The notion that gladiator sweat was bottled for sale as an aphrodisiac is also a recent invention. However the British Museum displays a lovely Roman glass scent bottle from Cologne in the form of a gladiator's helmeted head - early eau de Cologne, perhaps, but not parfum gladiateur.
Despite playing fast and loose with historical reality, films like Gladiator command attention as sheer spectacle. The questions they then raise in viewers’ minds, was it really like this, how do we know, why did violent spectacles appeal so strongly to Roman audiences, who benefitted from them, who performed, who watched and why, are the compelling challenges which always draw people in to study the reality behind the cinematic representations.
Box Office figures for Gladiator II will show whether we are as entertained by the film version of gladiators as Romans were with them in real life.
Fanatics can visit Gladiators of Britain, a British Museum Partnership Exhibition featuring Dr Pearce’s work.