Those who become fans of Those About to Die, a recent television series about gladiators directed by Roland Emmerich and starring Anthony Hopkins as Vespasian, will notice that among the main characters there is one who leads a rather wild life: the charioteer. This character is based on a real person who indeed lived during the time of the Flavians—about fifteen years later than depicted—and who has gone down in history for having won thousands of races without ever being defeated: the Hispanic Flavius Scorpus.
It is unknown where in the Iberian Peninsula he was born or the exact year, but it is estimated to be around 68 AD because Martial dedicated a couple of elegies to him, one of which mentions that the deceased was twenty-seven years old at the time of his death. Considering that the poet wrote those verses for his book Epigrams, which we know was composed between 95 and 98 AD, this approximate birth date can be inferred. By the way, the stanza reads as follows:
Oh Rome, I am Scorpus, the glory of your noisy circus, the object of your applause, your fleeting favorite. Envious Lachesis, when she cut my thread at twenty-seven years, deemed me old, judging by the number of my victories.
It should be clarified that Lachesis was the second of the three Fates in Greek mythology (her Roman equivalent was the Parca Decima), the one who determined people’s futures by deciding the length of the thread of their lives. What is clear is that Scorpus was a slave, as that was the status of those who pursued his profession, much like the gladiators; at least until they earned enough money and fame to buy their freedom, although this rarely happened because the constant risk they lived under usually resulted in their death beforehand.
Scorpus was still a child, around ten years old, when he was purchased by a former charioteer and trained for that job. He was probably a slender child, not heavy and not very strong, since, unlike gladiators, this was the ideal profile for driving a chariot to reduce the strain on the horses.
Additionally, it was believed that this build provided greater agility, a desirable quality because it was often necessary to jump from the chariot at high speed and cut the reins that were wrapped around the waist to avoid being dragged.
From what we have just explained, it is clear how spectacular the races were and why they fascinated the Romans, who adopted them from the Etruscans, who in turn took them from the Greeks. Although the conquest of Greece by the legions in 146 B.C. likely reinforced the influence, they already appear in the foundational myth of Rome, as Romulus organized one to distract the Sabines and abduct their women. However, there were differences with the Hellenic races, as in the latter, the charioteers held the reins normally, without wrapping them around their bodies, and did not wear protective gear (helmet, breastplate, and leather greaves).
If the Colosseum was the grand stage for the ludi gladiatorum (gladiator combats), venationes (animal hunts), bestiarii (fights against wild beasts), and even naumachiae (naval battles), the Circus Maximus was reserved for biga races (chariots drawn by two horses) and quadrigae (by four), with the difference that they were held daily (a hundred races during the time of the Flavians!). As mentioned earlier, these races fascinated the public more than the gladiators, which is why the Circus Maximus tripled the seating capacity of the Colosseum, accommodating more than one hundred fifty thousand spectators. It is worth noting that the Circus Maximus was sometimes used for other spectacles, such as venationes.
Anyone visiting Rome today can see the remains of this stadium, which had an elliptical shape, with a length of six hundred twenty-one meters and a width of one hundred eighteen meters. In the center, there was a spina or euripus, an architectural structure around which the track was laid out. The chariots, usually a dozen, started from one end, where they waited in wooden boxes called carceres, which opened simultaneously when the emperor dropped a mappa (handkerchief) to signal the start.
Once the race began, seven laps had to be completed (the Greeks did twelve), which Domitian reduced to five so that the daily program could finish before nightfall. The number of laps remaining was indicated by dropping decorative eggs into a water channel, which were replaced in the 1st century B.C. by rotating bronze dolphins, one for each lap. The metae (posts) placed at the curves marked the point where the turn had to be made to start the next straightaway. This was where most of the accidents occurred, which, after all, were the real thrill for the spectators.
It was, in fact, permitted to push rivals against the spina or the outer wall. When a chariot crashed—what was termed naufragia—the axle holding the horses usually broke, and the charioteer was thrown out and dragged by them, as the reins were tied around his waist. His life then depended on how quickly and skillfully he could cut them with a knife, though the difficulty of doing so at that speed and in those conditions meant that most of the time, he ended up badly injured or even dead; even if he succeeded, he could be run over by other chariots.
The winner received a laurel wreath and a cash prize, which, if he won enough times, could allow him to buy his freedom. This was advisable, as his life expectancy, as we mentioned, was very low. But in the meantime, he could become a true star, idolized by fans. It’s important to note that people divided their support among factiones (teams), which were identified by a color name, and the passion they aroused often led to fights in the stands—often fueled by bets—as happened in 6th-century A.D. Constantinople.
The teams were the Reds, the Blues, the Greens, and the Whites, each of which represented something, according to Tertullian: respectively, Mars, the Anemoi (Greek wind deities), Mother Earth (or spring), and the Sky or the Sea (or autumn). During Domitian’s time, the Purples and the Golds were added, although they disappeared after his death. Charioteers could switch teams, signed in the same way athletes are today. Scorpus belonged to the Greens, who, along with the Blues, would be the only significant teams left when a trend toward polarization began in the 3rd century.
Emperors also had their favorite factiones and sometimes even ordered the assassination of rival charioteers. Domitian—the last of the Flavian dynasty, son of Vespasian and brother of Titus—not only wanted to meet Scorpus personally but also hired him for the imperial stables. The invincible charioteer achieved victory after victory, accumulating so much prize money—along with the coins thrown at him by his enthusiastic fans from the stands—that he was finally able to pay to leave his status as a slave and become a freedman, acquiring the nomen Flavius from his patron.
With each laurel, he earned fifteen bags of gold, says Martial with a somewhat complaining tone because he only earned fifteen bags of lead. Considering that 2,048 victorious races are attributed to him—all of them, remember, as he was never defeated—one must conclude that Scorpus’s earnings far surpassed those of any current sports star: some estimate, adjusted for inflation, around fifteen billion dollars. It’s no wonder he was a massive idol, despite the social disdain for charioteers and gladiators.
We don’t know if that streak of invincibility was accompanied by a life of unrestrained pleasures, as depicted in the TV series, but it didn’t last long because, as we mentioned, his profession involved great risks, and those who practiced it didn’t last long (including the horses): Fusco, Mollicio, Crescens, Polynices, Musclosus, Calpurnianus, Helenus, Eutychus… almost none reached the age of thirty except for the Lusitanian Diocles, who was able to retire at forty-two with a colossal fortune of thirty-five million sesterces—even greater than that of Scorpus—amassed in more than four thousand races.
Scorpus died around 95 A.D., although we don’t know exactly how, but it seems likely that he died in a naufragium during a race. Martial doesn’t clarify it in the elegy we reproduced earlier, nor in this other equally emotional one, which serves as our conclusion:
Oh! Sad misfortune that you, Scorpus, were cut down in the prime of your youth and were called so prematurely to harness the dark horses of Pluto. The chariot race always shortened because of your fast driving; but, oh, why did your own race have to be run so quickly?
This article was first published on our Spanish Edition on August 13, 2024: Flavio Escorpo, el auriga hispano que ganó 2048 carreras y no perdió ninguna
SOURCES
Marcial, Epigramas
Jerome Carcopino, La vida cotidiana en el apogeo del Imperio
Harold Arthur Harris, Sport in Greece and Rome
Eckart Köhne, Cornelia Ewigleben y Ralph Jackson, Gladiators and caesars: the power of spectacle in ancient Rome
John H. Humphrey, Roman Circuses: Arenas for Chariot Racing
Dirk Bennett, Chariot Racing in the Ancient World
Óscar González Camaño, Los que van a morir, una miniserie de gladiadores para nuestra época
Wikipedia, Scorpus
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