Turn Left to Triumph: The Meta Sudans of Rome

The Meta Sudans is one of the oddest monuments in the city of Rome. I’ll bet most have never heard of it. It’s hard to think what purpose it served. The word /meta/ can mean finishing-point, goalpost, turning point and similar terms. It’s connected with the Greek word ‘meta’ (μετά) where it has the sense of being the end-point of something. But the Greek is a bound morpheme, usually used as prefix, where the Latin is a simple noun. There is some indication that the Etruscans had metae before the Romans, and, as they had an orientalising culture, the connotation of the word may have shifted somewhat, from abstract to concrete.

The Meta Sudans – the sweating cone – stood in Region IV ‘Templum Pacis’, the Temple of Peace. This was a mixture of monumental architecture and down-at -heel housing. It included the ancient Temple of Jupiter Stator and the Subura, one of those areas referred to today as ‘bustling and colourful’ when they mean ‘dangerous’. The district also included the Colossal Statue, but not the  Flavian Amphitheatre (amphitheatrum qui capit loca LXXXVII), which is in Region III ‘Isis et Serapis’, so the boundary of the two regions of the city must have been between the two locations. Quite probably the Meta Sudans was used as a boundary stone.

Topper and Ashby’s Topographical Dictionary of Ancient Rome (1929) suggests it was the common marker for Regions I, (Porta Capena) II, (Caelemontium) III, IV and X (Palatium). There are many places in England where several counties conjoin, and there are ten ‘three shire stones’, so it may have served a similar function. Indeed, it may have served a number of functions; we can imagine the senior vicomagister of each city district affected by a Triumph meeting here to plan the events. There may have been other metae in Rome, for it to need an adjective to determine it.

We can see it newly built in a coin of Titus (r. AD79-81), just to the left of the Flavian Amphitheatre (the Colosseum to you and me).  On the coin, it is spurting water rather than sweating or oozing it. By AD354, when the Chronographer itemised the things to be seen in Rome, it certainly had the name (metam sudantem, in the Accusative case).

Sestertius of Titus, showing the Meta Sudans, left

The term ‘meta sudans’ existed before it was built under the Flavians, since as Bill Thayer points out in his as always first rate Lacus Curtius site, it’s referred to in a letter from Seneca to his friend Luculius (aut hunc qui ad Metam Sudantem tubulas experitur et tibias, nec cantat sed exclamat; Seneca Epistulae Morales 4.56) with regard to one at Baiae. This does not mean that the one in Rome was created with that name, as it might have inherited it when it changed to a slighter flow later in antiquity.

There not being such a monument during the life of Seneca (and thus of Nero), yet it was already functioning during the brief reign of Titus, suggests that it was constructed during the decade of Vespasian’s reign. Perhaps it can be related to the Domus Aurea of Nero, which included an artificial lake, created by the engineers Celer and Severus to create a delightful rus in urbe; we could not rule out a purely functional purpose, to regulate hydraulic pressure for Nero’s lake. As that was rapidly dismantled, perhaps the Meta Sudans as we had it until 1936 was prettified and made to be part of a monumental assemblage, because it could not be removed without flooding the area.

The Cloaca Maxima in 1814, oil painting by CW Eckersberg

We can see from nineteenth and early twentieth century photographs than there wasn’t much left. The coin of Titus suggests a high-pressure flow, which did not exist in later centuries, and which was heavily reduced in antiquity. One possibility was that it was used as a safety valve for the water flows from the nearby hills; with heavy rains and rising groundwater flowing off, it could be opened to produce the column of water seen on the coin.

Colourised (perhaps hand-tinted) scene in 1890; maybe a postcard

Victorian photograph of a distant Meta Sudans by the Arch of Titus

Meta Sudans seen through the 250 years later Arch of Constantine

Any large city depends utterly on water flowing, and this was as true for Rome as it was for Los Angeles in the film Chinatown. Rulers, to be seen as benefactors, will want to mark their munificence by a flow of water beyond the level of need. It may have been intended primarily to impress people, in the manner of the Emperor Fountain at Chatsworth House in Derbyshire. This was created by constructing a lake in the Peaks seen behind the house, generating enough water pressure for the fountain to reach nearly 300 feet on demand.

Emperor Fountain (1844) with the South Face of Chatsworth House, the Derbshire home of the Cavendish family, Dukes of Devonshire

The valley in which the Meta Sudans is (or was) located was the original thoroughfare of Rome, the via sacra. The various communities which made up early Rome used that road for processions, notably for funerals; Polybius comments on how important those were. By the time the Meta Sudans was built, processions along the via sacra would have passed underneath the Arch of Titus and then turned left past the Colossus (which the Chronographer notes as ’The colossal statue, 102 feet high. On its head are 7 rays each 22 feet long’.  This was a crowded, low-lying poor area area, which in AD354 had 2,757 insulae and only 88 houses. The water pressure had to process 75 bath houses, 78 cisterns and the Baths of Daphne; the latter may be associated with the statue of Apollo (Apollinem sandaliarum) in that district; Daphne was a water nymph pursued by Apollo, and is one of the first myths Ovid recites in his Metamorphoses.

Computer Reconstruction of the Meta Sudans (see the coin of Titus)

Sadly, the Meta Sudans was demolished at the orders of Mussolini in 1936; by then, as can be seen in these illustrations, it had collapsed into a small stump. There is no sign then of cultural protests like those against ISIS for attacking Palmyra today.

Commagene, Crossroads of Empire

Commagene in southern Anatolia was a Roman province from AD79 onwards, something which may have slipped the attention of many, since it occurred at the same moment that Vesuvius was destroying Pompeii.

It had originated as a Hurrian kingdom called Kummukh, speaking a variety of the language which became Armenian. There is a discussion of its early 9^th century BC inscriptions in The Boyepinari Inscription of Panamuwatis of Commagene by Gabriel Soultanian. This was a literate state at least 150 years before Homer enlightened the Greeks.

In the wake of Alexander’s invasion, Commagene rapidly developed a Hellenistic royal culture, and for some time avoided domination by Europeans and Persians alike.

This is best seen at Mount Nemrut (Nemrud Dagi in Turkish), a religious site which illustrates the interplay of Greek and Persian religions. There, colossal statues were carved, which can be seen there to this day. A full description can be read in Herman Brijder’s book Nemrud Dagi: Recent Archaeological Research and Preservation and Restoration Activities in the Tomb Sanctuary on Mount Nemrud (Walter de Gruyter GmbH, 2014).

The Nemrut statues syncretise a number of gods from eastern and western traditions. They were erected for King Antiochus I Theos in 62BC. Of course, Theos means ‘god’ and the Commagenean kings were considered living gods, something that was not going to please the Romans. The imperial cult of the Romans never worshipped the living emperor, only dead ones and then only a minority of them.

Antiochus I Theos was in turn following a similar cult centre (called a hierothesion) of his father Mithridates I Callinicus (r. 109BC-70BC). Groups of seated statues of gods and the god king sat in rows; their heads were later removed by Christians and ritually defaced, as can be seen in these photos.

Head of Zeus-Aramazd, Mount Nemrut

Head of Apollo-Mithra-Helios, Mount Nemrud

Head of Vahagn-Herakles, Mount Nemrut; note the nose damaged by Christians

 It is interesting to note in passing that in the Greek world, it is possible for a living person to be a saint, but in the west sainthood is always post mortem; I think this must echo attitudes in prior religions.

In classical Armenian religion, all the gods had once been living people, notably Vahagn, syncretised with Heracles, Aramazd, the Armenian form of the Persian Ahura Mazda, syncretised with Zeus, Astghik with Aphrodite/Ishtar. This relates to Persian cultural conquest of Armenia and neighbouring areas in the 7^th century BC, after the era of Panamuwatis, where Khaldi was the chief god and formed a trinity with his sons Telspas and Shivini.

What we can see from this is an Anatolian culture which readily adopted and modified gods according to the winds of politics; rarely strong enough to assert itself, Commagene defeated its enemies by rolling with the punches. That is why Armenia was the first country in the world to adopt Christianity as its state religion, and why eventually Islam took over the area so easily.

Antiochus’ son, Epiphanes, fought alongside Titus at the Siege of Jerusalem in 70AD, and met Flavius Josephus, who describes him as one of the richest tributary kings. The conversion of Commagene from independent, but neutralised, kingdom to Roman province came about in the 70s AD, when the Roman governor of Syria, Caesennius Paetus, wrote to Vespasian to tell him that the king of Commagene, Antiochus IV and his son Prince Epiphanes planned to revolt against Roman overlordship and ally instead with the Parthians. According to Josephus (Bel Jud 7.7) this was malicious and Antiochus was very loyal. Vespasian allowed Caesennius Paetus to invade the country’s capital Samosata with legio VI Ferrata from Syria and annexe Commagene to that province.

The whole deal turned odd when Antiochus and his sons left for Parthia, but then returned under imperial protection as honoured guests, received imperial honours and enough money to run a royal household (M. Speidel 2000, Early Roman Rule in Commagene). The sons were recognised as legitimate royals, and in AD109, Epiphanes’ son, known to us as Philopappos (literally ‘grandfather lover’) who had earlier been made a senator was elevated to Cos. Suffectus by Trajan.

Note there the subtle difference: not Consul Ordinaris, the ones who gave their names to the year, nor even suffect to the Consul Prior, but suffect to the Consul Posterior, and he didn’t even serve out the whole year, serving only from May to August. Hardly an honour at all. It seems like the former governor of Syria, Aulus Cornelius Palma Frontonianus (a member of the powerful Cornelius clan), who was Consul Prior at the start of AD109 and had the ear of Trajan, felt it would be politically useful to include Philopappos.

So who was Philopappos and how had the former royal family gone from enemies of Rome to the consulship in a generation? Aulus Gellius in his Attic Nights notes that Philopappos was always referred to as ‘king’ (basileus) and referred to himself as such. His actual name at birth was Gaius Julius Antiochus Epiphanes. There had to be something in it beyond just money. I suspect it was the ancestry of the Commagenian royal family, who were descended from the Seleucid rulers of Asia Minor and perhaps from the same family as Alexander the Great.

The Philopappos Monument, built in his honour by his sister after his death in AD116, gives him three distinct identities, as a Greek, a Roman and a Commagenian. The monument is on what was once the Mouseion Hill in Athens, close to the Acropolis. Pausanias, in his Guide to Greece (i.25.8), refers to this as ‘monument built for a Syrian man.’ This seems quite snotty, and we can assume Pausanias was looking for a way to denigrate Philopappos, who was not a Syrian, and whose mother was an Alexandrian Greek, Claudia Capitolina.

Philopappos Monument, Athens, detail

As a Roman, he was termed in Latin as ‘Caius Iulius Antiochus, son of Caius, of the Fabian tribe, consul and Arval brother, admitted to the praetorian rank by the emperor Caesar Nerva Trajan Optimus Augustus Germanicus Dacicus’, stressing his voting tribe, his membership of the Arval Brotherhood and his close links to Trajan.

As a citizen of Athens, he is noted on another part of the monument in Greek as ‘Philopappos, son of Epiphanes of the deme of the Besa’. Note how his Roman names are missing and his father has gone from being Caius (or Gaius as we would say) and kept his real name, and his imperial and Roman titles are ignored, with his deme to the fore.

In a third niche, now lost, was a further title ‘King Antiochus Philopappos, son of King Antiochus Epiphanes’, again in Greek.

Philopappos Monument, long view

The sister who dedicated the monument was named Julia Balbilla, who was born in Rome, and unusually she was a writer, and even more curiously, four of her poems have survived:

When the August Hadrian Heard Memnon



Memnon the Egyptian I learnt, when warned by the rays of the sun,
speaks from Theban stone.
When he saw Hadrian, the king of all, before rays of the sun,
he greeted him - as far as he was able.
But when the Titan driving through the heavens with his steeds of white,
brought into shadow the second measure of hours,
like ringing bronze Memnon again sent out his voice.
Sharp-toned, he sent out his greeting and for a third time a mighty roar.
The emperor Hadrian then himself bid welcome to
Memnon and left on stone for generations to come.
This inscription recounting all that he saw and all that he heard.
It was clear to all that the gods love him.

When with the August Sabina I Stood Before Memnon



Memnon, son of Aurors and holy Tithon,
seated before Thebes, city of Zeus,
or Amenoth, Egyptian King, as learned.
Priests recount from ancient stories,
greetings, and singing, welcome her kindly,
the August wife of the emperor Hadrian.
A barbarian man cut off your tongue and ears:
Impious Cambyses; but he paid the penalty,
with a wretched death struck by the same sword point
with which pitiless he slew the divine Apis.
But I do not believe that this statue of yours will perish,
I saved your immortal spirit forever with my mind.
For my parents were noble, and my grandfathers,
the wise Balbillus and Antiochus the king.

Demo



Son of Aurora, I greet you. For you addressed me kindly,
Memnon, for the sake of the Pierides, who care for me,
song-loving Demo. And bearing a pleasant gift,
my lyre will always sing of your strength, holy one.

(Untitled)

For pious were my parents and grandfathers:
Balbillus the Wise and King Antiochus;
Balbillus, the father of my mother of royal blood and King Antiochus, the father of my father. From their line I too draw my noble blood,
and these verses are mine, pious Balbilla.

These show a huge pride in Balbilla’s non-Roman ancestry, descended on her mother’s side from Balbillus, an Egyptian magician, and the ability for non-Romans to interact with the imperial family. Her mythological references marry Classical deities with Egyptian gods like Memnon and Apis, not syncretising them, but running each alongside the other.

Commagene found a way to negotiate a complex cultural identity without being swamped by any of it.