Celebration of Heroism in Death in the Ancient Roman Empire


Melissa Ueckert​​​​​​​
ARTH 1380
April 14, 2019


            When analyzing global history, it is not uncommon to see trends in the way different societies and their cultural beliefs are depicted through works of art. The precise application of brush or hand, or of paint or stone, can give extensive insight into what values and customs were held by different denominations of peoples. One such culture is that of the Roman Empire. From its inception, the Roman Empire placed a very high value upon its military prowess, as it was the successes of its militaristic endeavors that granted it its lauded Pax Romana, a time of stability and peace that Roman citizens openly welcomed after a lengthy period marked by unrest and civil war. The Roman people were guided to revere those who battled for their empire, even more so for warriors who perished on the battlefield. Artists began to receive orders for grandiose idealized depictions of great battlefield feats, giving rise to a noticeable presence of sculpture narrating the lives and deaths of great military leaders. From this sprouted a mythology of honor through war and even greater distinction upon loss of life during battle. This narrative often played out along the sides of monuments and tombs of slain warriors in masterful artistic detail. The incorporation of opulent decorative technique and historically significant subject matter depicted in The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston’s Sarcophagus Depicting a Battle Between Soldiers and Amazons (Warrior Women) serves as a successful representation of Ancient Rome’s reverence for militaristic victory and valiant death.
Generally considered to be one of the greatest cultural and political forces in the history of the western world, the Roman Empire was born of Octavian’s (63 BCE – 14 CE) valorous defeat of Mark Antony and Cleopatra’s naval forces at Actium in 31 BCE. For his bravery and skill on the battlefield, Octavian was granted the title of Augustus by the senate in Rome in 27 BCE and became the first to hold the official title of Emperor. Like his adoptive father Julius Caesar before him, Augustus was lauded as divine. He referred to himself as divi luli filius, the “son of the divine Julius,” after the death Julius Caesar, who came to be considered a God himself. (Sweet 48) Holding social, religious, political, and economic power, Augustus made certain that the Rome over which he ruled truly saw him as the son of God. One way in which he did so was the commissioning of numerous artistic depictions of his great military pursuits, which served as a form of propaganda to remind the Roman citizens of his benevolent yet firm style of rule. Under Augustus’ rule from 27 BCE – 14 CE artists and architects began to revive the Greek Classical style of statuary, in which the human form is depicted as having the proportions and anatomy of a realistic human while maintaining an idealized appearance adhering to the canon standard of the time. (Gardner 129, 178) Although not as revealing and intimate as true veristic stylization that would gain popularity later in Roman history, this reflection of the High Classical style allowed artists to create works that insinuated vitality and believably-lifelike narrative.
When evaluating the surviving tangible remnants of the Roman Empire, it becomes apparent that said culture placed great importance and veneration upon the successes of their military campaigns, as it was through these successes that the empire was able to expand and flourish. Romans loved to celebrate the concept of graphic conflict given its association with their own society’s victory. In fact, they were so enthralled with the idea of heroic combat that they enjoyed recreating the notion themselves through game and sport. “Warfare and games [were] often seen as analogous,” and dramatized recreations of heroism performed in coliseums, “tied the arena to Roman militarism and imperialism.” (Kyle 8) Attending and viewing these spectacles provided Romans with a certain comfort regarding the concept of death. It is recognized that “warfare familiarized Romans with violence, and violent spectacles …symbolized the territorial expansion of the empire.” (Kyle 8) However, one must recognize that death is always going to factor into the equation of battle, and on all sides of the altercation.  This reality, though, was not necessarily linked exclusively with loss, and examples of this philosophy can be found throughout surviving Roman art and literature. When giving a speech in 56 BCE, renowned orator and politician Cicero lauded, “[the] willingness to meet death in battle as a distinctly Roman characteristic,” and asserted that, “true manhood … lies in the readiness to die for one’s country.” (Edwards 20).   Considering that the circumstances allowing the foundation of the Roman Empire were achieved through contentious warfare, it is rather discernable why Romans would extol the victorious dead so fervently. It must be taken into consideration that, “ancient Rome was a highly militaristic society” and that, “likely, considerable energy [was] devoted to celebrating death on the field of battle.” (Edwards 21)
One exceptional example of this notion lives on through the life and death of Cato the Younger (95 BCE – 46 BCE). A man of strong moral fiber, he never bowed to the will of Julius Caesar as the time of the Roman Republic drew near its end. After Cato’s ally Pompey, a lauded military leader, lost to Julius Caesar’s forces in the Battle of Pharsalus, Cato elected to commit suicide by way of stabbing himself rather than acquiesce to a life under the rule of Caesar. When his attempt was not immediately successful, servants and a surgeon attempted to stitch his wound closed and therefore save his life. Adamant to die, Cato purposefully reopened his wound and succumbed. Upon his death, “versions of Cato’s death were written up and in circulation,” and “Cato’s death was rapidly taken as emblematic of Roman striving to place liberty above life – a death … which served as a testament to the value” that Romans placed on the relationship between honor and death. (Edwards 3) Whether or not he knew that the story of his demise would become a narrative spread throughout Rome, “Cato’s bravery and determination in taking his own life brought him immediate glory,” (Edwards 2) and was, “seen as the inspiration or point of comparison” for the ideal Roman death. (Edwards 1) After Cato met his end, death by suicide began to gain traction as a compelling method of virtuous escape from opposition. It must be noted, however, that suicide in ancient Roman times was much different than the understood definition in modern society. “There is no Roman term exactly equivalent to the modern notion of suicide” (Edwards 10) as the goals of the act are different for each society. Instead of trying to evade the horrors of life that seem unescapable, Romans who killed themselves were interested in, “reflecting … the preservation of an intact narrative of self-identity.” (Edwards 8) Cato, and unflappable Roman men who followed his example, such as Brutus the Younger (85 BCE – 42 BCE) and Gaius Cassius Longinus (85 BCE – 42 BCE), who committed suicide after their loss at the Battle of Philippi, asserted, “the importance of honor over agency” and that, “who carries out the killing is significantly less important than how the individual dies.” (Edwards 10) In this place and time in Roman history, regardless if an individual was killed or if they killed themselves, what mattered was that the killing and subsequent death was remembered as honorable.
Naturally, glorious memorials would be devoted to the courageous dead. “Great men and soldiers received statues of praise for their accomplishments,” (Rupley 21) and “monuments … about memories of the past” (Hope 39) were dedicated to these individuals in order to bolster the tale of their heroism. The most skillful Roman artists would be contracted to construct ornate monuments that captured the dead in scenes of their greatest and most lauded accomplishments. “Tombs were most often about remembering the dead as they had been alive rather than as dead and decaying entities or representing them as members of a new and separate afterlife” (Hope 39) and as such the commissioned sculptors spent great time and effort to capture the dead at the height of their prime, often shown in the midst of war. The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston’s Sarcophagus Depicting a Battle Between Soldiers and Amazons (Warrior Women) displays a masterful work of high relief depicting a fierce battle between Roman soldiers and mythological Amazon women, the term Amazon here meaning imposing and exotic. It is apparent that the Romans have the upper-hand during the clash, as several bodies of Amazon women lay motionless on the ground, and four Roman soldiers hold a woman captive along each corner of the sarcophagus. This scene was likely lifted straight from the life of the individual laid to rest inside, a testament to his crowning achievement in life. Whether the soldier died during the depicted battle or later on in life from some other cause is irrelevant by standards of the time in Rome, as “the glories of ancient civilization were seen through the evidence of their burials,” (Oliver 1) and not through the literal manner of death. Well-illustrated evidence of an individual’s great deeds upon their funerary memorials were needed to promote the story of said individual’s life and assure its passing to posterity. The necessity of a grandiose sarcophagus such as this reflects, “a concern with the preservation of an intact narrative of self-identity.” (Edwards 8) The sarcophagus itself as a work of art, even without the context of the specific scene it depicts, is magnificent. It is obvious that great precision and care was used in creating the work, and only the finest of marble was used. It is generally acknowledged that only Roman citizens of the highest regard would be afforded such luxury, so the combination of the artistic resplendency along with the fascinating chronicle depicted on the sarcophagus imply that the individual buried within possessed both great wealth and immeasurable renown.
More often than not, evidence of specific values and ideologies can be found when evaluating the legacies of ancient civilizations. Funerary remnants of the ancient Roman Empire indicate a great preoccupation and esteem for heroic warriors. Whether cut down in the midst of battle or declining into the hands of old age, it was the deeds of a soldier that defined them, not how they died. Military heroes of the Roman Empire were exalted as triumphal entities whose legacy deserved to be passed through the ages, giving rise to artistic renderings of their great deeds in war. The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston’s Sarcophagus Depicting a Battle Between Soldiers and Amazons (Warrior Women) illustrates this practice, with its adroit craftsmanship and naturalistic rendering of a battle scene shedding light on the individual residing inside. Ancient Rome was adept at celebrating its military victories and valiant heroes, which modern society has been able to observe through lasting cultural artifacts that portray this ideology.





Works Cited


Edwards, Catharine. Death in Ancient Rome. New Haven, CT: Yale UP, 2007. Print.
Gardner, Helen, and Fred S. Kleiner. Gardner's Art through the Ages: A Global History. 15th ed. Boston: Cengage Learning, 2016. Print.
Hope, Valerie M. Roman Death: The Dying and the Dead in Ancient Rome. London: Continuum, 2009. Print.
Kyle, Donald G. Spectacles of Death in Ancient Rome. Florence: Taylor and Francis, 2012. Print.
Oliver, Graham J. The Epigraphy of Death: Studies in the History and Society of Greece and Rome. Liverpool: Liverpool U, 2000. Print.
Rupley, Zachary Scott. "Augustus, Justinian, and the Artistic Transformation of the Roman Emperor." Thesis. East Tennessee State University, 2009. Electronic Theses and Dissertations. Web. <https://dc.etsu.edu/etd/1863/>.
Sarcophagus Depicting a Battle Between Soldiers and Amazons (Warrior Women). 140-170CE, Museum of Fine Arts, Houston, Houston.
Sweet, Louis Matthews. Roman Emperor Worship. N.p.: Hardpress, 2012. Print.

You may also like

Back to Top