A Day in Ancient Rome [December 23, 176 AD]

Transcript
· Another day
0:08 · The tenth day before the kalends of January. The consulship of Pollio and Aper, 929 ab
0:16 · urbe condita December 23, A. D. 176
0:23 · Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus – victorious in Armenia, Parthia, and Germania; Pontifex
0:30 · Maximus, Pater Patriae– was cold. He was always cold at night now, no matter how many
0:37 · sheepskins he piled on his couch.
0:41 · His eyelids cracked open. The room was dark, save for a smoldering brazier in one corner.
0:47 · Dawn was hours away. But he knew he would sleep no longer, despite the opium in last
0:54 · night's wine. He called for light, and a chamberlain rushed through the door, kindling
0:59 · lamps. By the time his feet touched the marble floor, the room was bright as day.
· Petitions
1:06 · As the chamberlain vanished, his morning secretary appeared: a gray man in a gray tunic, hands
1:12 · splotched with ink. Wordlessly, the secretary seated himself on one side of a table. Marcus
1:19 · sat opposite. The ivory surface between them was awash in scrolls, each bearing a petition
1:25 · – more or less urgent – for help that only the emperor of Rome could give.
1:32 · Marcus picked up the nearest scroll. It had been sent months earlier, just before storms
1:38 · closed the sea, by the citizens of a village in Egypt. They claimed to be unable to pay
1:44 · their taxes, since a gang of bandits known as "the cowboys" had stolen their livestock.
1:50 · To make matters worse, the plague had returned, killing many families.
1:55 · The plague again. He remembered its arrival in Rome, a decade past, when the reek of mass
2:02 · cremations filled the air and priests walked the streets with censers of purifying incense.
2:09 · Just last year, it had resurfaced in a neighborhood not far from the palace, killed hundreds,
2:15 · and vanished.
2:17 · He dictated a reply to the villagers – their taxes would be remitted for three years – and
2:22 · sealed it with the ring of Augustus. Then, as the secretary removed a fresh sheet of
2:28 · papyrus from his carrying case, he turned to the next petition.
2:33 · Once, reading had been his greatest pleasure. In the summers, when his mother retired to
2:39 · her Campanian villa, he would bring armloads of books from the palace library and study
2:44 · them beside a fountain, the musty aroma of old papyrus suffusing every breath.
2:51 · As emperor, he seemed to read nothing but petitions. It was his duty to read them, just
2:57 · as it was his subjects' duty to send them. But there were times when duty palled. Deliberately,
3:04 · painstakingly, he worked through a few dozen scrolls, granting aid, clarifying laws, playing
3:10 · emperor.
3:11 · When his voice began to fail, he called for breakfast. It arrived promptly: a small loaf
· Breakfast
3:18 · of warm bread, a dish of olive oil, and a cup of wine. He dipped a bit of bread in the
3:24 · olive oil, then sipped the wine. It was very good – Falernian, he thought, laid up by
3:30 · Verus before he died.
3:32 · A slave spirited away the remains of his meal. Outside, beyond the cypresses and winter-bare
3:39 · oaks, the sky was going gray. Most days, he would soon have made his way to the reception
3:45 · hall, with its gilded ceiling and dripping water clock, to hear cases. But not now.
· The Triumph
3:51 · Today, he would triumph. It had been a decade since the last time, when he and Verus had
3:58 · ridden together, two of his sons in the golden chariot between them, all Rome applauding
4:03 · the defeat of the Parthians. Today's triumph had been harder to win – eight years of
4:10 · raids and counter-raids, sucking bogs and windswept hills, barbarians who melted into
4:16 · mists and emerged howling from the trees.
4:20 · Preparations for the triumph had begun months ago. Armor had been polished, horses groomed,
4:26 · garlands hung. Even now, thousands of soldiers were filing toward their places. Soon, a slave
4:33 · would wind a gold-embroidered toga around his shoulders and paint his face red. Then
4:39 · he would mount the triumphal chariot, and the procession would begin.
4:43 · [sponsor transcript omitted]
5:33 · Back to our topic, and to Marcus Aurelius. Evening had fallen by the time the triumph
· Artifacts of the wars
5:40 · reached the Forum. The procession had begun, as usual, in the Campus Martius, and made
5:46 · its stately way through the city's heart. In the Circus Maximus, where multitudes had
5:51 · gathered to watch, the whole length of the parade had been visible: the gleaming spoils,
5:57 · the sacrificial animals, the prisoners of war, and – just in front of the senators
6:02 · – the dioramas.
6:04 · These paintings showed scenes from the wars. A legion, trapped for days on a waterless
6:09 · plateau, cutting through the enemy ranks under the sheltering arms of a storm god. A Roman
6:15 · cavalry officer dealing a fatal blow to a German king. A line of Sarmatians – horses
6:20 · and men alike sheathed in silvery scale armor – galloping over the frozen Danube.
6:26 · Marcus' golden chariot, drawn by a quartet of white horses, followed the senators. Behind
6:33 · marched the soldiers, singing about the pleasures of beer and barbarian women. It had been a
6:40 · bright day, with a breeze that made the banners flutter. But the wind had fallen with the
6:45 · sun, and a settling chill promised frost.
6:48 · Drawing his cloak closer, Marcus glanced toward Commodus. The prince stood beside him in the
6:54 · chariot, waving to the crowd. He was fifteen now, and newly appointed consul. But he was
7:00 · still irresponsible; just yesterday, he had been found shooting his bow at a target held
7:06 · up by a slave in the palace gardens…
7:08 · "Remember, Caesar: you are mortal"
· Caesar, you are mortal
7:11 · The slave who spoke the traditional warning stood at his left shoulder. Marcus needed
7:17 · no reminders of mortality. His aching body already proclaimed it. So did the row of fresh
7:24 · bronze statues in Trajan's Forum, each commemorating a general killed in the wars.
7:29 · They were following the Via Sacra, the narrow street that plunged through the marble mountains
7:35 · and colonnaded forests of the Forum. On one side was the Temple of Venus and Rome built
7:41 · by his grandfather Hadrian. On the other, farther down, was the temple of his father
7:46 · Antoninus, who had taught him so much.
7:50 · He had been fortunate. Not in wealth or glory, which were nothing. Not in being emperor,
7:56 · which was Fate. No, he had been fortunate in his teachers and his family. From them
8:02 · he had learned to live in accordance with nature. Through them he had come to understand
8:07 · the freedom that philosophy taught – the wisdom past sorrow, the joy beyond pain.
8:14 · "Remember, Caesar: you are mortal"
8:18 · A few months before, on the way back to Rome, he and Commodus had gone to Eleusis. Within
8:25 · the marble walls of the sanctuary, they had stood with the other pilgrims – shoulder
8:29 · to shoulder, Roman, Greek, and Barbarian – and watched the rite of rebirth. There, just for
8:37 · a moment, he had glimpsed the brotherhood of mankind, the philosophers' universal
8:42 · city.
8:43 · On the Capitoline, the light of the setting sun rippled along the gilded roof of Jupiter's
8:49 · temple. Torches blazed in the shadows between, marking the processional way. But his gaze
8:55 · drifted upward, beyond the temple and the wheeling birds, into the depths of a darkening
9:01 · sky, where the first stars beaconed the quiet benevolence of the gods.
9:09 · My new book – Insane Emperors, Sunken Cities, and Earthquake Machines – is now available
9:15 · as a paperback, e-book, and audiobook. You can buy your copy through Amazon, Barnes & Noble,
9:22 · or your local bookstore.
9:25 · For more toldinstone content, check out my channels Toldinstone Footnotes and Scenic
9:29 · Routes to the Past, which are linked in the description.
9:34 · Please consider joining other viewers in supporting toldinstone on Patreon. Thanks for watching.

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Transcript
	·	Another day
0:08	·	The tenth day before the kalends of January. The consulship of Pollio and Aper, 929 ab
0:16	·	urbe condita December 23, A. D. 176
0:23	·	Marcus Aurelius Antoninus Augustus – victorious in Armenia, Parthia, and Germania; Pontifex
0:30	·	Maximus, Pater Patriae– was cold. He was always cold at night now, no matter how many
0:37	·	sheepskins he piled on his couch.
0:41	·	His eyelids cracked open. The room was dark, save for a smoldering brazier in one corner.
0:47	·	Dawn was hours away. But he knew he would sleep no longer, despite the opium in last
0:54	·	night's wine. He called for light, and a chamberlain rushed through the door, kindling
0:59	·	lamps. By the time his feet touched the marble floor, the room was bright as day.
	·	Petitions
1:06	·	As the chamberlain vanished, his morning secretary appeared: a gray man in a gray tunic, hands
1:12	·	splotched with ink. Wordlessly, the secretary seated himself on one side of a table. Marcus
1:19	·	sat opposite. The ivory surface between them was awash in scrolls, each bearing a petition
1:25	·	– more or less urgent – for help that only the emperor of Rome could give.
1:32	·	Marcus picked up the nearest scroll. It had been sent months earlier, just before storms
1:38	·	closed the sea, by the citizens of a village in Egypt. They claimed to be unable to pay
1:44	·	their taxes, since a gang of bandits known as "the cowboys" had stolen their livestock.
1:50	·	To make matters worse, the plague had returned, killing many families.
1:55	·	The plague again. He remembered its arrival in Rome, a decade past, when the reek of mass
2:02	·	cremations filled the air and priests walked the streets with censers of purifying incense.
2:09	·	Just last year, it had resurfaced in a neighborhood not far from the palace, killed hundreds,
2:15	·	and vanished.
2:17	·	He dictated a reply to the villagers – their taxes would be remitted for three years – and
2:22	·	sealed it with the ring of Augustus. Then, as the secretary removed a fresh sheet of
2:28	·	papyrus from his carrying case, he turned to the next petition.
2:33	·	Once, reading had been his greatest pleasure. In the summers, when his mother retired to
2:39	·	her Campanian villa, he would bring armloads of books from the palace library and study
2:44	·	them beside a fountain, the musty aroma of old papyrus suffusing every breath.
2:51	·	As emperor, he seemed to read nothing but petitions. It was his duty to read them, just
2:57	·	as it was his subjects' duty to send them. But there were times when duty palled. Deliberately,
3:04	·	painstakingly, he worked through a few dozen scrolls, granting aid, clarifying laws, playing
3:10	·	emperor.
3:11	·	When his voice began to fail, he called for breakfast. It arrived promptly: a small loaf
	·	Breakfast
3:18	·	of warm bread, a dish of olive oil, and a cup of wine. He dipped a bit of bread in the
3:24	·	olive oil, then sipped the wine. It was very good – Falernian, he thought, laid up by
3:30	·	Verus before he died.
3:32	·	A slave spirited away the remains of his meal. Outside, beyond the cypresses and winter-bare
3:39	·	oaks, the sky was going gray. Most days, he would soon have made his way to the reception
3:45	·	hall, with its gilded ceiling and dripping water clock, to hear cases. But not now.
	·	The Triumph
3:51	·	Today, he would triumph. It had been a decade since the last time, when he and Verus had
3:58	·	ridden together, two of his sons in the golden chariot between them, all Rome applauding
4:03	·	the defeat of the Parthians. Today's triumph had been harder to win – eight years of
4:10	·	raids and counter-raids, sucking bogs and windswept hills, barbarians who melted into
4:16	·	mists and emerged howling from the trees.
4:20	·	Preparations for the triumph had begun months ago. Armor had been polished, horses groomed,
4:26	·	garlands hung. Even now, thousands of soldiers were filing toward their places. Soon, a slave
4:33	·	would wind a gold-embroidered toga around his shoulders and paint his face red. Then
4:39	·	he would mount the triumphal chariot, and the procession would begin.
4:43	·	[sponsor transcript omitted]
5:33	·	Back to our topic, and to Marcus Aurelius. Evening had fallen by the time the triumph
	·	Artifacts of the wars
5:40	·	reached the Forum. The procession had begun, as usual, in the Campus Martius, and made
5:46	·	its stately way through the city's heart. In the Circus Maximus, where multitudes had
5:51	·	gathered to watch, the whole length of the parade had been visible: the gleaming spoils,
5:57	·	the sacrificial animals, the prisoners of war, and – just in front of the senators
6:02	·	– the dioramas.
6:04	·	These paintings showed scenes from the wars. A legion, trapped for days on a waterless
6:09	·	plateau, cutting through the enemy ranks under the sheltering arms of a storm god. A Roman
6:15	·	cavalry officer dealing a fatal blow to a German king. A line of Sarmatians – horses
6:20	·	and men alike sheathed in silvery scale armor – galloping over the frozen Danube.
6:26	·	Marcus' golden chariot, drawn by a quartet of white horses, followed the senators. Behind
6:33	·	marched the soldiers, singing about the pleasures of beer and barbarian women. It had been a
6:40	·	bright day, with a breeze that made the banners flutter. But the wind had fallen with the
6:45	·	sun, and a settling chill promised frost.
6:48	·	Drawing his cloak closer, Marcus glanced toward Commodus. The prince stood beside him in the
6:54	·	chariot, waving to the crowd. He was fifteen now, and newly appointed consul. But he was
7:00	·	still irresponsible; just yesterday, he had been found shooting his bow at a target held
7:06	·	up by a slave in the palace gardens…
7:08	·	"Remember, Caesar: you are mortal"
	·	Caesar, you are mortal
7:11	·	The slave who spoke the traditional warning stood at his left shoulder. Marcus needed
7:17	·	no reminders of mortality. His aching body already proclaimed it. So did the row of fresh
7:24	·	bronze statues in Trajan's Forum, each commemorating a general killed in the wars.
7:29	·	They were following the Via Sacra, the narrow street that plunged through the marble mountains
7:35	·	and colonnaded forests of the Forum. On one side was the Temple of Venus and Rome built
7:41	·	by his grandfather Hadrian. On the other, farther down, was the temple of his father
7:46	·	Antoninus, who had taught him so much.
7:50	·	He had been fortunate. Not in wealth or glory, which were nothing. Not in being emperor,
7:56	·	which was Fate. No, he had been fortunate in his teachers and his family. From them
8:02	·	he had learned to live in accordance with nature. Through them he had come to understand
8:07	·	the freedom that philosophy taught – the wisdom past sorrow, the joy beyond pain.
8:14	·	"Remember, Caesar: you are mortal"
8:18	·	A few months before, on the way back to Rome, he and Commodus had gone to Eleusis. Within
8:25	·	the marble walls of the sanctuary, they had stood with the other pilgrims – shoulder
8:29	·	to shoulder, Roman, Greek, and Barbarian – and watched the rite of rebirth. There, just for
8:37	·	a moment, he had glimpsed the brotherhood of mankind, the philosophers' universal
8:42	·	city.
8:43	·	On the Capitoline, the light of the setting sun rippled along the gilded roof of Jupiter's
8:49	·	temple. Torches blazed in the shadows between, marking the processional way. But his gaze
8:55	·	drifted upward, beyond the temple and the wheeling birds, into the depths of a darkening
9:01	·	sky, where the first stars beaconed the quiet benevolence of the gods.
9:09	·	My new book – Insane Emperors, Sunken Cities, and Earthquake Machines – is now available
9:15	·	as a paperback, e-book, and audiobook. You can buy your copy through Amazon, Barnes & Noble,
9:22	·	or your local bookstore.
9:25	·	For more toldinstone content, check out my channels Toldinstone Footnotes and Scenic
9:29	·	Routes to the Past, which are linked in the description.
9:34	·	Please consider joining other viewers in supporting toldinstone on Patreon. Thanks for watching.