Skip to main content

Writing a Family: The Temple of Isis and Numerius Popidius Celsinus

72 CE: a massive earthquake shakes Pompeii. A temple to an exotic goddess crumbles to its foundations. But from the rubble a new temple is built. It is above the doorway that the name of this benevolent civic patron is written for all to see: Numerius Popidius Celsinus, now the only six-year-old boy given a place in the local senate.
Scale model of the rebuilt Temple of Isis in Pompeii in the Museo Archiologioco Nazionale di Napoli. Photo by Jack Hase.

Let's rewind. Under the empire in the 1st century CE the Popidius family was active in local Pompeiian politics. This was a leading family in the community that participated in common aspects of Roman aristocratic life, including the owning and freeing of slaves. One of these freedman slaves was named Numerius Popidius Ampliatus; the fact that he bared the name of his previous master's family was a sign of his freedman status while 'Ampliatus' is related to the Latin word denoting increasing wealth. This name was appropriate.

Many houses in Pompeii were damaged in the earthquake along side the Temple of Isis. Here is an example of a small but finely decorated Pompeiian home, the Casa Della Venere in Conchiglia. Photo by Jack Hase in Pompeii.

Ampliatus, like many freedmen that sources speak of (and complain about) in the early Empire, was able to work his way up the economic ranks in service of his patron in order to amass a significant amount of wealth and status in Pompeii. However, as he was not born free, he was unable to hold political office himself, the task of any good Roman aristocrat. So, when the earthquake came, he set his plan into motion. He payed for the reconstruction of the Temple of Isis and placed the following inscription above the door:
The inscription from above the door of the rebuilt Temple of Isis; above from the model and below the original. Photos by Jack Hase in the Museo Archiologioco Nazionale di Napoli.
Numerius Popidius Celsinus, son of Numerius, restored from its foundations the Temple of Isis, collapsed from the earthquake. On account of his generosity the decurions adlected him to their order without further fee when he was six-years-old (CIL X.846)
As stated here, by giving his young son credit for the building he was able to both ensure a prestigious place in politics for his heirs and give himself political power on behalf of his son until he was of age. While this may seem like a sneaky manouver, it is likely that Ampliatus' wealth had him already running in the circles of the other local senators and would have been friendly with such a rich man already. Either way the powers that be accepted the youth into their ranks and the exchange was solid; as the inscription testifies, the family gained a new socio-political standing in the city. (This victory was, of course, short lived as the fateful eruption of Vesuvius was but 7 years away.)
A model showing the ruins of Pompeii and the Temple of Isis immediately behind the semi-circular theatre. Photo by Jack Hase in the Museo Archiologioco Nazionale di Napoli.

While this may seem like a funny story of how a six-year-old boy got into Pompeiian politics, it can in fact tell us much about how public writing functioned in the city. First of all, the fact that the restorer is named above the temple door in larger print than the name of the goddess herself speaks to the importance of civic patronage in the city; this is similar to the amphitheatre in the previous post. Going further, however, this inscription even better demonstrates how public writing could act as a social contract. Here, for example, the inscription takes great effort to both define the social standing of Ampliatus, the space itself demonstrates his vast wealth, and then the inscription again describes how his social status is altered via his young son. If this was a simple building title or construction information these points would not need to be emphasized in this way, but the socio-political aspects of the situation surrounding the building are highlighted more than the building itself due to the text's contractual nature. Thus it both defines the space and acts as a sort of public record that could be witnessed by passers-by in order that the community knew of this ex-slave's newfound status.

Again, the text and the space act in concord to affect and engage the community that surrounds it.
And again again, until next time, Valete.

Bibliography:

Bedoyere, Guy de la. Cities of Roman Italy: Pompeii, Herculanium and Ostia. London: Bristol, 2010.

Corbier, Mirelle. "Writing in Roman Public Space." In Written Space in the Latin West, 200 BC to AD 300, edited by Gareth Sears, Peter Keegan, and Ray Laurence. London: Bloomsbury, 2003.

Franklin, James L. jr. Pompeis Difficile Est: Studies in the Political Life of Imperial Pompeii. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 2001.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Writing an Audience, Part 1: Capitals, Repetition, and Formulas

This blog has already touched on different ways public writing functioned in the Roman world. It could be a vehicle of power, it could contextualize spaces, and it could record and solidify social agreements. However, one question still needs to be addressed: how could inscriptions be so important in a world where most people were not fully 'literate'? The answer is surprisingly simple. Romans made inscriptions as easy to read as possible. They achieved this by using a number of different approaches which all acted to lessen the gap between the written Latin carved in stone and the spoken Latin the general public could understand. These approaches include: 1) The use of CAPITAL LETTERS. Have you ever noticed how you never see lower case letters in Roman inscriptions? We know Romans had cursive letters from various graffiti and some rare letters, but on monuments constantly use the same font of capital letters. This is because a consistent and clear font made reading eas

Writing an Audience, Part 3: The Pantheon

I want you to just look at the following picture for a few seconds. This is the Pantheon. What you see was built around 125 CE by the emperor Hadrian after fire destroyed the previous iteration. In its day the building was in the heart of a high traffic area; porticoes, basilicas, baths and other temples surrounded it. While its own function as a atypical temple is up for debate, its grandeur tells us it was an important site. Look up at the inscription. The letters are the same height as the people walking below. These words were meant to be read. The Pantheon in Rome. Photo by Jack Hase. Here, in part 3 of this series, we will look at the the readability of the inscription adorning the front of the Pantheon. As with the previous post, three aspects of this inscription made it easily readable to a broad 'less-literate' audience. The inscription reads: M. AGRIPPA. L. F. COS. TERTIVM. FECIT (Marcus Agrippa, Son of Lucius, Built This in his Third Consulship) [Transl