by R G Berube
This was the way of life in Hellas, but not so in other parts of the world. I came to understand that Rome was not one of the understanding nations. Under the conditions of the times it was as natural for this practice to happen as it seems natural in your own age, for women to have a hand in your politics and to have a claim to family wealth; considered as outrageous in our age. Utter condemnation would have been leveled at anyone who may have proposed such absurd notions! So, the understanding of any era is only achieved by the knowledge of its culture. It seemed insane for us to think that there were people who believed heavenly powers to be in sole domination of one god! It seems utterly ridiculous in your age, that Greeks would have accepted polytheism as an obvious truism, as evidenced by the multi-facets of nature and of the world around us. But, I stray from my discourse once again!
The paedagogium was an age-old establishment, one in which Romans took much pride. Unlike similar houses in Hellas, the Imperial Paedagogium focused its energy in the training of pages for the court. This is not to say that boys who caught the attention of various members of the Senate or other dignitaries could not become attached to these benefactors. But this practice was secondary to the paedagogium's primary purpose; to school its boys to perform domestic duties in the household while young, and to graduate into civil servants when age dictated.
Throughout our travels from Bithynia to Rome, Critoneo remained near. He told me the Emperor had continued to other cities, and would not return to Rome with us. He would, Critoneo was sure, seek me out upon his return.
I was soon aware that, unlike the other boys also traveling to the same destination; I was being accorded special privileges. One evening, fourteen from Rome, somewhere past the straight separating Italia from Scicilia, Critoneo found me by the rail of the ship, deep in thought. He stood away from me. When he saw that I had noticed his presence, he came near. We had spoken before but with little familiarity. I suspect that he had taken notice of my sullen mood.
For some days I had been experiencing a deep depression resulting from the detachment from my home and land. In this, I was not alone. So many of the youths on board were of such an age that they were little more than children, unaccustomed to lengths of separation from their mother's bosoms. These were the concern of Critoneo and his staff, as there was a genuine effort to soothe and succor with special foods or playthings.
Many of the other boys noticed there was a difference in the way I was treated. They took objection. I felt even more of an outcast. It took great effort to control my tears but in the darkness and away from everyone, I allowed them. Critoneo, silent, placed his arm around my shoulder. I suppose there was something of a yearning in me for a father. Mine had seldom held me in the manner Critoneo now took to soothe me. I buried my face in the folds of his cloak and my muffled sobs went unnoticed by any who might have stood near.
It was Critoneo's presence and his warmth that made the coming weeks bearable. Although he could look stern and did so most of the time, thereby creating the sense that he was a cold and uncaring soul, he was kind to me and his age made me feel comfortable; to a child, a man of forty appears ancient. Critoneo looked older than his years because his hair had already begun to grow thin and his face showed a well-fed fullness of someone who has few worries about where the next meal will come from. His mouth was small, with full lips. His eyes bulged a little, giving his the appearance of looking forever surprised or amazed and above them arched bushy brows that made me think of thick and hairy caterpillars walking across his face.
Boys of the paedagogium took fun in mimicking him behind his back. He was stern with his commands, demanding in his expectations, but fair and just in his treatment of those boys placed under his care. I learned that in the past, others who had held his post had shamefully abused their position and had taken advantage of the pretty boys, and made the lives of those not gifted with good looks, a terrible ordeal. We were lucky! If it were not for Critoneo and Alexamenos, another lad from Bithynia, I think my early days in Rome would have been most painful!
It was on the last leg of this voyage that I made the acquaintance of Alexamenos. He had remained detached from the others throughout most of the journey. I wondered why the bullies who had emerged amongst the boys being brought to Rome from all over the empire (the recruitment had begun long before Hadrian had arrived in Bithynia,) did not harass him as they did me. Early one morning while still on high seas, my question was answered.
We had been brought on deck for a breath of fresh air after a long night in the depths of the ship. The air of the hold was afoul with the excess of bodies and smell of vomit. It had been unusually stormy the previous night. One of the older and bigger boys from Cappadocia made a snide remark about how good Alexamenos looked. Alexamenos turned and without a word and with three rapid movements which seemed but blur to our eyes, laid the abusive youth to the deck and proceeded to twist the boy's arm until we all believed it would come from the socket. With the disabled ruffian in this position, Alexamenos extracted a promise that his continuous taunting of the smaller and weaker boys would cease. Along with the others, I cheered when the words were spoken and the promise, made. Alexamenos finally released the bigger boy. There were no further problems from that individual during the remaining journey. This is not to say that others did not try to take his place, but all in turn were quickly confronted by Alexamenos. He came to be regarded as the undisputed leader, and no one dared challenge him. The remarkable thing was that Alexamenos did not, unlike all the other boys, abuse his power. When some of the more aggressive boys tried to befriend him, he spurned them and remained aloof. It was I to whom he chose to speak and allow something akin to bonding to occur.
At the time, I was but a memory of a summer afternoon dalliance, in Hadrian's mind. No doubt that he had other more important issues concerning him than a boy met by chance in a garden. I was to find out later that the Emperor had not forgotten me, but in the two years that followed had watched me from afar taking note of my progress and admiring me from his distance. Unknowing of his purpose and interest in me at this time, I thought myself a lad thrown to the mercies of a strange city, encircled by other boys who openly showed their hostility. My natural tendency was to allow anyone who showed me affection, to come closer. I yearned for kindness!
It was by the function of protector and mentor that Critoneo gained my respect and confidence. However, I was initially perplexed by this association. I had assumed, when his attention to me seemed more than just a passing interest that Critoneo's purpose was to become my erastes. I availed myself of his protection, and still Critoneo made no more demands from me than directing my attention to my studies and helping me to develop a tolerance of the demanding and trying rigors of the Paedagogium.
Once more my thoughts have leapt ahead of my intended sequence. The element of time from which I now operate is too constrictive. From my perspective time is experienced not by a sequence of moments but by events, the chronology of which seems unimportant to the effect these events have had on shaping my destiny. Periodically I find the need to pull myself back to the awareness of this present century to fit all the wonder and madness of those seven years, into a context which must result in a clearer understanding of my part in that moment in time.
Chapter Three
The Paedagogium, 122 - 124 A.D.
The Imperial Paedagogium was a structure unmarked by any sign that would have distinguished it as such. Built atop a rise of land called the Caelian Hill, my new home was, at first, cold and foreboding. Rome was a city of stone and mortar. It is true that upon approaching it, the white marble facing most of the public buildings, and the magnificence of the Amphitheatrum Flavium marked this city as a superior place. It was a sight meant to awe all who saw it and predispose new arrivals to the city's elegance and power. It was not a place of warmth. There were too many streets and alley ways with too many people who spoke too many tongues. The stone of the city well represented its soul! My own ci
ty of Claudiopolis was constructed mostly of wood from the nearby forests, and was warmer in appearance and spirit. I longed for it all of my life.
We arrived in Rome in the height of the summer heat. The humidity made my clothing cling uncomfortably to my wet skin. The populace of Rome looked at us strangely as we passed. Streets were crowded and the din of the noises of commerce made my head ache. All manner of smells assaulted my nostrils and most were enough to make me ill. Garbage and other foul things were thrown to the street from upper-level windows of the insulas.
Everywhere laundry hung across buildings, and children ran amuck unsupervised. As we neared the city's center, congestion made movement more difficult. Heads turned and followed us as we pried our way through throngs of poor and rich. No distinction existed among the many, as all were forced to walk in shit and mud left by passing animals of the night before. Togas and robes were equally stained with the familiar color of the streets. It had been a dusty ride from the port of Ostia. We had gone from the cool sea breezes of that town into the stifling heat of Rome.
Subjected to the continuous jeering and rude noises of these supposed civilized people, it was clear that we were not held in high esteem. On two occasions Critoneo rescued us from savage attacks resulting from merchants' stalls built too close to the street and knocked to the ground by our passing. A gathering of vendors screamed profanities. This led to the provocation of a number of street-boys who, for the lack of anything better to do, took on the assault and focused their stones and other projectiles on us. Before Critoneo could calm us, the youths of our wagon and the two others following returned the fire with reclaimed missiles and a multitude of other items consisting of the rotten fruits and vegetables from past meals. Several ruffians attempted to climb onto the carts to engage in combat but were dissuaded by the accompanying guards.
Approaching the city's heart the detachment then swerved right following an avenue that rose beyond the grand colosseum. The Imperial Paedagogium was on a street called Caput Africanae, one filled with dwellings of questionable repute. As we made our way through the surrounding neighborhoods the inhabitants of the district were pressed with curiosity. They knew who we were and for what reasons we were brought. All thirty of us were driven in carts, each drawn by six horses bearing the sign of the Imperial House upon their foreheads. The same insignia was on the liveries of the slaves who accompanied the retinue. Critoneo and his attendants rode on chairs borne on the backs of slaves, at the head of the procession. Alexamenos had stood beside me as rode along the Via Apia and a casual conversation had developed. I had not taken the opportunity to make my feelings known to him regarding his admonishment of the Cappadocian. He had remained aloof and until now, had taken very little notice of me.
“You always look so sad...,” he said, not looking directly at me but all the time letting his eyes miss nothing of the events going on around him. “What better could we have had in Claudiopolis than what will be offered us in Rome?”
“You think so little of your home?” I asked.
“You think so much of yours?” His words mocked my mood of depression. Then he spit to emphasize his dislike for the life he had left.
“Only one thought makes me long for home..., my mother! Now she has only her own mouth to feed and it may be that I will learn enough to make her life more comfortable.”
“But can you gain more here?”
I wondered how he had come to be included in the group. Alexamenos spat again, this time looking at me in the face.
“What do I lose for leaving that forgotten city?
Like my father, who I did not know, I leave to find my fortune elsewhere. I'll fight or sell myself to get what I want. Critoneo saw me on the streets and liked my rough edges. He bought me for a night and I pleased him enough to make him like me. I pleaded to be taken along and promised to be of whatever service I could to him.”
I had not noticed Critoneo paying particular attention to him and said as much. Alexamenos shrugged.
“No matter,” he said. “I have what I want. Perhaps his taste is for the more refined.”
Alexamenos had leveled this remark at me as a challenge.
“I see he likes you more than any other, Antinoos. Has he had his way with you?”
“No,” I said, having wondered myself why he had not.
“Ah yes,” he smirked. “You are chosen for someone better. They say the Emperor requested you directly, is that true?”
I explained the circumstances of my meeting with Hadrian.
“The Emperor's own,” Alexamenos said ironically. “It seems I am in good company!”
By the time we arrived in Rome we were laughing and the others were watching us, wondering what had occurred to bring us together. The bond was cause for even more hatred from those who had grown to envy my preferred position. Critoneo had worried about my moods. When he saw Alexamenos and me happy, obviously liking each other, he assigned us to the same cubicle at the Imperial Paedagogium. It was assumed incorrectly by the others that I had agreed to submit myself to Alexamenos for his protection. Although we did make love in the following months; loneliness and a hostile environment often cause unlikely alliances, it was Alexamenos who was the submissive partner. To show my gratitude for his friendship I allowed the others to believe what they wished.
Alexamenos was not one to whom I would have normally have been drawn. His coarseness and lack of breeding made him appear as a boy of the streets. It was his rough appearance mediated by striking good looks that brought the attention of the procurer. Something in his face showed promise. Critoneo believed Alexamenos would blossom. His language was almost unintelligible and his manners were often a shock to me. Yet he drew me to him!
All soon fell into the routine imposed on those who came to be educated in the ways of the court. We were to be of use; each in our own way, to whatever skill and ability was discovered. Life was rigorous. Living spaces were small and plain; the only comfort was fresh running water provided to each cubicle by an ingenious system of pumps and conduits connected to an aqueduct that carried it from the distant Alban hills. In spite of this convenience the baths were still more preferred, where we were allowed to indulge in a number of services provided for our pleasure. There were cold-water pools and steam rooms, mineral springs and mud baths, and a massage room where one could be kneaded and stretched until the pains were almost too much to bear. There were exotic oils, available only to selected boys.
The degree of deference and quality of treatment was judged by a boy's status. Those who had already attained favor with some Senator or wealthy citizen, luxuriated in splendor. New arrivals were only allowed to bathe and be scraped dry with a strigil. Some of the older or stronger boys were selected to be brought routinely to the palaestra, where they were trained to wrestle and develop other athletic skills. It was to the palaestra that most boys aspired to go, for there a continuous flow of hopeful erastes pined away the hours waiting for some sign of recognition from a boy who may have been selected as a probable eromenos; one taken on as a charge and sometime-lover.
Day began before the first hour with a pounding on the door by the proctor. We were given ten minutes to waken and file out to the small piazza within the walls of the place. There, boys were divided into groups according to assigned details which were to be our toil for the next three hours before we were allowed to eat. Breakfast was a meager meal of oats or coarse bread with a soupy solution of lentils, and some vegetables. This was followed by five hours of studies, the focus of which, for new arrivals, was a history of Rome and her possessions throughout the world. Intermixed with this, were mathematics and Latin. After a mid-day meal of wine with cheese and fruits, we were ushered into a large auditorium and lectured on the ways of the Imperial Court.
We learned the etiquette of the Palace and Court, and the basic lessons preparing us for civil service. We were instructed to distinguish the classes within the honestiores. Senators and knights were otherwise known as th
e Equestrian Order in which were still further distinctions of rank; procurators, prefects and praetors. Then came freedmen and those who had obtained freedom
from slavery by manumission. The lowest order was the slaves. Also in our schooling was the care given to how foods were prepared and served. We were expected to learn without mistakes the many ways of setting tables for the various functions.
As pages we spent many hours practicing how to carry ourselves in public so that we were conspicuous yet did not draw unfavorable attention. It was considered important to be capable of enlightened conversation; therefore lessons in dialectics were a part of the curriculum.
A duty hated by everyone but experienced by all was being assigned to the pound to handle the hounds. The Imperial Pound was located some distance from the paedagogium and those who were assigned there remained day and night until the tour was complete. We slept and ate with the noisy and vicious beasts. Because of its location within that neighborhood, those who lived near hated the dogs and the boys assigned to them, never loosing an opportunity to harass either. We were jeered, stoned, and often accosted by street urchins with nothing better to do with their time. This necessitated a constant vigil of the animals less they be injured or killed. The silly beasts seemed unable to discern their keepers from their tormentors, for they took every advantage to try tearing us limb from limb. It was rumored that one boy had an entire arm bitten off. I tried my best to use gentleness and kindness as a way of demonstrating my intention not to harm them. By small measures they came to like me and trust me enough to allow me to enter the kennel without attack. But they never ceased snarling or bearing their teeth. It was one of the first tasks given to newcomers; a way of weeding out the faint of heart!