Crucifixion

 Note: Crucifixion, although not invented by the Romans, was enthusiastically adopted by them as their preferred form of execution of slaves. It is hard to imagine a more gruesome of shameful death than to be nailed alive and naked to a cross and allowed to die a slow, painful death. Imagine the victim’s terror as he deals with the “agony of the cross” while he is subjected to the jeers and taunts of passers-by, as he is tormented by flesh-eating insects, and watches as the carrion birds circle overhead while packs of opportunistic, mongrel dogs wait for their chance to feast on him. 

The following is an extract from my story, “Glaucus of Korinthos”. It is told through the person of the Tribune, Flaccus Marcus Bruscius who serves with General Lucius Mummius in the destruction of Korinthos and the enslavement of her citizens. 

Flaccus has i\recently acquired property in Sicilia; a place where he intends to live once his military service is complete. Sicilia was a part of Carthage but is now a Roman province governed by authoritarian governors appointed by Rome which resulted in a slave rebellion long before the one instigated by Spartacus on mainland Italia. 

Although I try to keep my stories as historically accurate as possible, I do, at times, resort to “writer’s license” as I have done here.

 

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 Flaccus Marcus Bruscius:

 Tauromenium surprised me on my first sighting of the town. Although founded as a Greek colony several centuries ago, I’d expected it to be more provincial than it is. I had expected it to be uncultured and inhabited by coarse, uneducated peasants. Imagine my surprise therefore when I discovered a vibrant cultural community centred on the magnificent Greek Theatre perched high on a rocky crag towering above the town and the sparkling blue waters of the Ionian Sea which also laps at the shores of Southern Italia and stretches all the way to far distant Graecia. 

I was entranced by the Theatre and its location. If the Greek gods on mythical Olympus had given themselves the task of creating a location for Tauromenium’s theatre then they have excelled themselves for nowhere else in my wide travels have I seen a more idyllic spot? 

And within a stone’s throw of the theatre, I discovered a deserted villa that is to become my town residence. Obviously abandoned in a hurry, it has been ransacked over the years by the poorer townspeople and roving bands of lawless slaves. Stripped of all its furnishings it is just a shell of its former grandeur. 

I’d inquired about it and its former owner and discovered it had belonged to a rich pro-Carthaginian merchant who’d fled the island for the safety of Carthage.  Given that Carthage is now under siege and inevitably doomed to fall to Scipio Africanus, there is irony in that. The merchant won’t find safety within the crumbling walls of Carthage. The best he can hope for is a quick death by the sword thrust of a vengeful Roman soldier or, at the very worst, to be carried off into slavery. 

The local magistrate was a friend of my father’s and he enthusiastically welcomed my plans to settle at Tauromenium. He’d told me I was the type of young, entrepreneurial Roman settler that Sicilia needed and he’d given me the empty villa as an incentive to stay. And of course, he’d used his gubernatorial connections to assist me in buying my farms, the quarry and the tract of virgin forest for the proverbial song. 

I stayed in Tauromenium for several weeks while I finalised my business dealings and the magistrate had used my army experience in restoring a measure of law and order to the region. In recent times, the area had been terrorised by gangs of rampaging, rebellious slaves, who freely roamed the countryside killing and plundering at will. 

Indeed, some of my first images upon my arrival at Tauromenium were of a terrified citizenry and burnt-out homesteads. And it has to be said even the magistrate considered it unwise to venture too far from the safety of the city.  

But gangs of disorganised slaves are no match for the might and precision of the Roman army and even though the number of troops at my disposal was small we soon rooted them out from their boltholes and subjected them to Rome’s righteous punishment. 

Being slaves – and runaways at that – negated any claims to mercy they might have hoped for. The mandatory sentence for a slave, who commits the offences of which they were guilty, is death by crucifixion. And this unhappy task fell to me. All up I crucified one hundred and thirty-seven male slaves. And an almost equal number of female camp-followers were returned to slavery. 

I am ambivalent about crucifixion as a means of execution. Its description as the ‘extreme and ultimate punishment of slaves’ is most apt. On the one hand, I do see that the manner of execution should serve as a warning to other slaves to behave and submit themselves to their owners. And crucifixion serves that purpose admirably for there is no more degrading or so painful a death than for a slave to hang naked on a cross waiting for Mors to cut the thread that binds him to this life. Yet I’d always hated working on crucifixion detachments as a soldier. Put simply, it is hard work to crucify a criminal or a slave. 

Despite the inevitability of his fate, the naked victim fights furiously right up to the moment the spikes are driven through his wrists and ankles. And having to listen to the vain pleas for mercy and the heartrending sobs of the crucified can be emotionally taxing. They only fall silent as the cross is raised skywards when all their energies are then spent in extending their lives by raising their sagging bodies to avoid drowning as their lungs fill with their blood. 

It always amazes me how, even when nailed to a cross and suffering indescribable agony, a victim will struggle to stay alive until his very last gasp. It would seem that life, even to a crucified slave, is a precious commodity not to be abandoned without a fight. Depending on his physical endurance, a crucified slave’s determination not to “give up the ghost” can last for a few hours or even days. 

I have heard stories of slaves surviving for almost ten days hanging on the cross. Popular myth has it that these slaves were regularly given water and kept alive by enterprising officials who invite bets from gamblers as to when the slave would finally succumb. Personally, I very much doubt the truth of the longevity of these lotteries of death. It is hard to imagine even the strongest slave having the will or the endurance to survive the horrors of crucifixion over such a protracted period. 

The crucified victim’s writhing on his cross can be hard to watch even for the battle-hardened soldier and I derived no pleasure from such cruel suffering. Alternatively, the victim will draw on his diminishing strength and use his legs as levers to raise his body to drain the bodily fluids from his lungs become succumbing once more to the intolerable stress placed on his tortured body and slumping forward. 

The macabre death dance on the crucifix is indeed horrible to watch! 

Whenever, I was in charge of a crucifixion, I’d usually take compassion on the condemned and after a short period of suffering – to satisfy the dictates of the law - I would break both his lower legs to hasten his death. 

But in this instance, I couldn’t extend such mercy. These slaves were guilty of the most heinous crimes and must pay the full penalty for their offences. Some would succumb quickly; others would linger for days but all would die in excruciating agony. Their suffering was to serve as a warning to all other of Sicilia’s slaves to conform or suffer the dire consequences of their rebellion against Rome’s authority. 

Nor could I save them from the traditional scourging before crucifixion. The magistrate was most insistent that the slaves be flogged with the three-thronged, leather flagrum. However, rather than the cruel ‘scorpion’, with its knotted pieces of bone and with the sharp hooks at the end of each thong capable tearing flesh and muscle from the backs of its unhappy victims, I used a simple knotted scourge. 

Even after death, there is no dignity for the crucified. Rome never buries the victims of the ‘unhappy tree’ and their sun-blackened, bloated bodies become feeding grounds for flesh-eating insects, carrion birds and scavenging wild dogs and are left hanging as a reminder of her intolerance of slave insurrections. 

Bearing in mind that the Sessorium or Rome’s crucifixion ground was outside the city walls beyond the Esquiline Gate, I’d chosen my crucifixion site well away from the town – so that the stench of the decaying bodies didn’t impact on Tauromenium or her citizens – but in an area where I knew other slaves were hiding. I’d prevailed upon the magistrate to offer a thirty days’ amnesty to these remnant bands of runaway slaves conditional on them not having murdered a free person. If they surrendered within that time their lives would be spared and if their former owners couldn’t be found then they would be sold to new owners at a special magistrate’s auction. 

Most of these rebellious slaves were aware that order had been restored and they left their hideaways deep in the forests and the rock-strewn mountains and surrendered to the magistrate. Few, if any, were returned to their missing masters and all were sold to new owners for give-away prices. 

Needless to say, I took advantage of this and bought some slaves notable only for their brute strength and put them to work clearing away the debris of neglect from my farms and preparing my marble quarry for re-opening. And if they prove satisfactory, I will appoint these same slaves to be my overseers on the farms and in the quarry. 

By the time I left Sicilia to return to Rome, I’d restored law and order to Tauromenium and its surrounding areas. This was greatly appreciated by the magistrate who wrote glowing reports of my exploits and forwarded these to Rome and within the wider community my reputation stood high in public esteem. Upon my return as a permanent resident of Tauromenium I will be elevated to the position of their magistrate to replace my father’s friend when he returns to Rome.  

When I returned to Rome from Sicilia the “Pax Romana” reigned once more over Tauromenium. I’d acquired my properties and appointed a steward who worked under the direction of the magistrate to manage my affairs and to begin the restoration of my newly acquired villa. 

 was sorry to leave Sicilia – and I eagerly looked forward to my return. However, my foremost duty is to Rome and her interests and today these see me serving in Korinthos. 

But Fortuna continues to smile upon me and despite the carnage raging all around me I have turned this to my advantage. 

My farm will require many fit slaves to toil in my fields. Similarly, my quarry and the forest will require strong slaves to hew the marble and to fell the trees. 

And Korinthos’ young men will make fine slaves!