How Did Gladiator Fights End (What Thumbs Up Meant)

The fights between gladiators in ancient Rome were brutal. It was not like a football game (American or otherwise) where it would be assumed that both sides would go home with just a couple of bruises. Death was a fairly common occurrence at a gladiatorial game, but that doesnt mean it was inevitable. One gladiator might be lying prone in the blood-absorbing sand of the arena, with the other gladiator holding a sword (or whichever weapon he was assigned) at his throat. Instead of simply plunging in the weapon and consigning his opponent to death, the winning gladiator would look for a signal to tell him what to do. The Editor Was in Charge of the Gladiator Fight The winning gladiator would get his signal—not from the crowd as illustrated in the famous 19th century painting by Jean-Là ©on Gà ©rà ´me (1824–1904)—but rather from the referee of the game, the editor (or editor muneris), who might also be a senator, emperor  or another politico. He was the one to make the final decisions about the fates of the gladiators in the arena. However, since the games were meant to curry public favor, the editor had to pay attention to the wishes of the audience. Much of the audience attended such brutal events for the single purpose of witnessing the bravery of a gladiator in the face of death. By the way, gladiators never said Morituri te salutant (Those who are about to die salute you). That was said once to Emperor Claudius (10 BC–54 CE) on the occasion of a staged naval battle, not gladiatorial combat. Ways to End a Fight Between Gladiators Gladiatorial contests were dangerous and potentially fatal, but not as often fatal as Hollywood would have us believe: Gladiators were rented from their training school (ludus) and a good gladiator was expensive to replace, so most battles did not end in death. There were only two ways that a gladiatorial battle could be ended—either one gladiator won or it was a draw—but it was the editor who had the final say on whether the loser died on the field or went on to fight another day.   The editor had three established ways to make his decision.   He might have established rules (lex) in advance of the game. If the fights sponsors wanted a fight to the death, they had to be willing to compensate the lanista (trainer) who had rented out the dead gladiator.  He could accept the surrender of one of the gladiators. After having lost or cast aside his weapons, the losing gladiator would fall to his knees and raise his index finger (ad digitatum).  Ã‚  He could listen to the audience. When a gladiator went down, cries of Habet, Hoc habet! (Hes had it!), and shouts of Mitte! (Let him go!) or Lugula! (Kill him!) could be heard. A game that ended in death was known as a sine remissione (without dismissal).  Ã‚   Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down, Thumbs Sideways But the editor didnt necessarily listen to any of them. In the end it was always the editor who decided whether a gladiator would die that day. Traditionally, the editor would communicate his decision  by turning his thumb up, down, or sideways (pollice verso)—although modes changed as did the rules of the gladiatorial arena over the length of the Roman empire. The problem is: the confusion over exactly what thumb direction meant what is one of a longstanding debate among modern classical and philological scholars. Thumbs Up, Thumbs Down, Thumbs Sideways for Romans Latin Phrase Meaning Signals from the Editor Pollices premere or presso pollice The "pressed thumb." The thumb and fingers are squeezed together, meaning "mercy" for a downed gladiator. Pollex infestus The "hostile thumb."The signaler's head is inclined to the right shoulder, their arm stretched out from the ear, and their hand extended with the hostile thumb. Scholars suggest the thumb pointed upward, but there is some debate; it meant death to the loser. Pollicem vertere or pollicem convertere "To turn the thumb." The signaler turned his thumb towards his own throat or breast: scholars debate about whether it was pointed up or down, with most picking "up." Death to the loser. Signals from the Crowd The audience could use the ones traditionally used by the editor, or one of these. Digitis medius Up-stretched middle finger "of scorn" for the losing gladiator. Mappae Handkerchief or napkin, waved to request mercy. Its complicated. But fear not, educators, the cultural icons in your elementary school classes of thumbs up, thumbs down, and thumbs sideways are perfectly clear to your students, regardless of what the Romans did. A wave of the mappae would be an acceptable response.  Ã‚   When a Gladiator Died Honor was crucial to the gladiatorial games and the audiences expected the loser to be valiant even in death. The honorable way to die was for the losing gladiator to grasp the thigh of the victor who would then hold the losers head or helmet and plunge a sword into his neck. Gladiator matches, like much else in Roman life, were connected with Roman religion. The gladiator component of Roman games (ludi) appears to have started at the start of the Punic Wars as part of a funeral celebration for an ex-consul. To make sure the loser wasnt pretending to be dead, an attendant dressed as Mercury, the Roman god who led the newly dead to their afterlife, would touch the apparently-dead gladiator with his hot iron wand. Another attendant, dressed as Charon, another Roman god associated with the Underworld, would hit him with a mallet. Sources and Further Reading Briggs, Thomas H. Thumbs Down—Thumbs Up. The Classical Outlook 16.4 (1939): 33–34.Carter, M. J. Gladiatorial Combat: The Rules of Engagement. The Classical Journal 102.2 (2006): 97–114.Corbeill, Anthony. Thumbs in Ancient Rome: Pollex as Index. Memoirs of the American Academy in Rome 42 (1997): 1–21.Post, Edwin. Pollice Verso. The American Journal of Philology 13.2 (1892): 213–25.Reid, Heather L. Was the Roman Gladiator an Athlete? Journal of the Philosophy of Sport 33.1 (2006): 37-49.

Claudette Colvin Martin Luther King Jr. And Rosa Parks

When many people think of the Civil Rights Movement and its leaders, the first names that comes to mind are Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks. However, there were so many people that were just as influential and deserving of recognition as Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks. One of these people, Claudette Colvin, was â€Å"Rosa Parks before Rosa Parks†. Claudette Colvin grew up in King Hill, Alabama- a close-knit community that was stuck between two white neighborhoods. She attended a one-room school, with one teacher teaching all six elementary grades. When she refused to give up her seat to a white woman on a Montgomery bus, she was only fifteen years old. Claudette was arrested, and seen as an outsider by her classmates. She suffered†¦show more content†¦Clearly, Claudette was an extremely courageous person. As well as being courageous, Claudette was also an upstander. â€Å"She went to rallies, wrote letters to him in prison, and collected money for his legal defense† (Hoose, 24). Jeremiah Reeves was a student that attended Claudette’s high school, and her neighbor. He was sixteen when he was convicted of raping a white housewife, and then later convicted of raping six white women after breaking into their homes. Jeremiah’s death sentence made Claudette realize the injustices blacks faced everywhere. She, among other students, became involved in helping him and fighting for his freedom. This shows how Claudette was an upstander, because she took a stand helped out an individual, and a group of people as a whole, when they were faced with injustice. â€Å"I wasn’t going to go to Alabama State College, where they teach school but didn’t teach you how to get your freedom† (Hoose, 28). Going to college is a huge opportunity, but she is devoted to ge tting freedom, not to learning maths or English in a classroom. Claudette has truly taken a stand, whether it is for herself, like on the bus, or for a classmate in need of justice. Although Claudette is not nearly as well-known as Martin Luther King Jr. or Rosa Parks, her influence was just as great. â€Å"With that, the bus protest ignited by Claudette’s arrest twenty-one months earlier came to an end† (Hoose, 109). Claudette’s act of refusing her seat to a white woman sparkedShow MoreRelatedWhat Is Rosa Parks Essay992 Words   |  4 PagesRosa Parks once said, â€Å"Each person must live their life as a model for others.† On December 1, 1955, Rosa Parks was a model for everyone. She is an important figure in American History, she showed everyone that she cares that the world is like this and that she would not be afraid to stand up for her rights. One day when Rosa Parks came back home from work on the Cleveland Avenue bus, she sat on the bus but sh e sat in the whites section, so Fred Blake, the bus driver, asked her and three otherRead MoreThe Montgomery Bus Boycott Part 11033 Words   |  5 PagesSouth, to become more involved in politics. This occurred with the help of Claudette Colvin, Rosa Parks, President Nixon, the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP) and especially with the influence of Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., inspired by Mahatma Gandhi. From King’s studies of nonviolence, he guided blacks peacefully through the boycott and taught the boycotters that violence is not the way. King and Gandhi There were several factors that caused the Montgomery Bus BoycottRead MoreShort Speech On Rosa Parks1003 Words   |  5 PagesRosa Parks was a Civil Rights Activist born February 4th in the year of 1913. Rosa Parks was the first born child of James and Leona Edwards McCauley. 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His number one inspirationRead MoreRosa Parks Essay950 Words   |  4 Pagesactive. Rosa Parks was the answer to the plague, also known as segregation, back when it was still active. She became one of the greatest legends in the history books because of it. Rosa Louise McCauley ‘Parks’ is an influential person because of her world changing life, her seamstress career, her role as a civil rights activist, and her success with the legendary boycott. Rosa Louise McCauley ‘Parks’ was a key role in changing human history, but she didn’t start out that way. Parks was bornRead MoreThe Civil Rights Movement And The American Civil Movement958 Words   |  4 PagesBlack, Unita Blackwell, Julian Bond, Amelia Boynton, Anne Braden, Carl Braden, Mary Fair Burks, Stokely Carmichael, Septima Clark, Albert Cleage, Charles E. Cobb, Jr., Annie Lee Cooper, Dorothy Cotton, Claudette Colvin, Jonathan Daniels, Annie Devine, Doris Derby, Marian Wright Edelman, Medgar Evers, Myrlie Evers-Williams, James L. 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Night World Huntress Chapter 18 Free Essays

string(43) " the Four were called to stand against it\." Jez heard herself scream, but only faintly. There was a roaring in her ears as if the BART train was coming at her again. And a pain that engulfed her whole body, sending agonized spasms through her limbs. We will write a custom essay sample on Night World : Huntress Chapter 18 or any similar topic only for you Order Now It centered in her chest, though, where something white-hot was lodged inside her, crushing her lung and dislodging her internal organs and burning right beside her heart. She’d been staked. What she had done so often to others had been done to her. She hadn’t realized anything could hurt like this. She was glad none of her victims had lived long to keep suffering. The wood of the stake was poisoning her heart, she knew. Even if it were removed, she would die. No vampire could survive contact between living wood and its undead heart. Still, she would live for a little while-in unimaginable agony as the poison ate through her. A voice was screaming in her mind. Jez-JezJezJez†¦ Over and over, incoherently. Morgead, she thought. And she hoped he wasn’t feeling any of what she was feeling through the silver cord that connected them. Hugh and Claire were sobbing. Jez wished they wouldn’t. They had to stay calm; to think of a way to save themselves. Because she couldn’t help them anymore. Over the sobbing she heard a shrill and angry voice. Lily. â€Å"What is wrong with you?† Lily was saying. â€Å"Don’t you see what’s happening to her? Don’t you want to save her?† Through the red haze that filled Jez’s vision, she felt dim approval. They were doing what she’d told them. Whichever of them was the Wild Power was suppressing it Good. That was what mattered. Although she couldn’t really remember why any longer†¦. Suddenly a face broke through the red haze. It was Lily, bending over her. â€Å"Don’t you understand?† Lily yelled. â€Å"You can stop this right now. Ill have him kill you cleanly-all the pain will be over. All you have to do is tell me who it is.† Jez smiled at her faintly. She couldn’t breathe to answer, and she didn’t want to try. Would you believe that I don’t know? she thought. No, I don’t think you would. †¦ The pain was getting less by itself. It was as if Jez was moving farther and farther away from it. â€Å"How can you be so stupid?† Lily was screaming. Her face was twisted, and to Jez’s vision, floating in a scarlet mist. She looked like a monster. Then she turned and seemed to be screaming at someone else. â€Å"All right. Get the other vampire down here, too. Morgead.† She was looking at Jez again. â€Å"We’ll just have to stake your friends one after another until the Wild Power decides to reveal itself.† No. No†¦ Suddenly everything was much clearer around Jez. She could see the room again, and she could feel her own body. There was still the roaring in her ears, but she could hear Claire’s sobs over it. No. Lily couldn’t mean it. This couldn’t be happening†¦. But it was. They were shoving Morgead down on the floor beside her, and Claire and Hugh beyond him. The thugs with spears were getting into position. No. No. This can’t happen. Jez wanted to scream at them, to tell the Wild Power to do something, because everything was lost now anyway. But she didn’t have air to scream. And she felt so adrift and confused anyway†¦. Her universe had become disjointed. Her thoughts seemed to be unraveling at all once, past memories combining with flashing sensory impressions from the present, and with strange new ideas†¦. If it was involuntary, why didn’t the Wild Power work magic more often? Unless there was some other requirement†¦. I can’t let this happen. The dampness of blood spreading around her heart. †¦ Claire’s nails digging into her arms. â€Å"When there’s no physical way to escape †¦Ã¢â‚¬  Power in the blood. Claire on the floor there. Screaming and screaming†¦ Something building inside her, hotter than the stake. Morgead beside her whispering, â€Å"Jez, I love you.† Pierce with the stake over him. Morgead looking up unafraid†¦. Hotter than the heart of a star. Hugh in the distance saying almost quietly, â€Å"Goddess of Life, receive us; guide us to the other world. . . .† Hotter than the sun and colder and bluer than the moon, like fire that burned and froze and crackled like lightning all at once. Something that filled her with an energy that was past rage and past love and past all controlling and that she recognized in her soul even though she’d never consciously felt it before. It was swelling Jez to bursting, a pure and terrible flame that was never meant to be unleashed like this†¦. â€Å"Do it!† Lily shouted. And Jez let it free. It came roaring out from her in a silent explosion. Blue fire that streamed from her body and blasted in all directions, but especially up. It came out and out and out, engulfing everything, flowing from her in a never ending torrent. Like a solar flare that didn’t stop. It was all she could see. Blue flames, streaked with blue-white lightning that crackled almost soundlessly. Just like the fire that had cocooned her on the BART tracks. Except that now she could tell where it was coming from, even if she couldn’t direct it. She knew how to let it out, now, but once out it did what it wanted. And it wasn’t meant to be used this way. That was the only thing she knew clearly about it. She’d been letting it slip out when she was desperately upset-when she was worried for someone’s life, and she knew that she couldn’t do anything else to save them. That was forgivable, because it had been unconscious. This wasn’t. She was probably violating some law of the universe or something. The blue fire was only meant to be used in the last battle, when the darkness came and the Four were called to stand against it. You read "Night World : Huntress Chapter 18" in category "Essay examples" I suppose that means I should try to stop now, Jez thought. She wasn’t sure how to do it. She guessed that she needed to call it back, somehow, to draw it down into her body again. Maybe if I sort of tug†¦. She did-something. A gathering-up with her mind. It was harder than letting the fire go had been, but it worked. She could feel it returning, flooding back inside her, as if she were sucking it in. †¦ And then it was gone, and Jez could see the world again. Could see what it had done. The house had disappeared. Or most of it, anyway. There was about a foot and a half of ragged wall left all around, with charred insulation spilling out. Blue energy like electricity ran along the edges here and there, fizzing. Other than that, no house. Not even chunks of wreckage lying around. There were fine bits of debris floating down, making the sunlight hazy, but that was all. It got†¦ vaporized, Jez thought, searching for the right word. No Lily. No Azarius. No Pierce. And none of the ugly thugs. Goddess, Jez thought. I didn’t mean to do that. I only wanted to stop them from hurting Morgead and Claire and Hugh. †¦ What about them? she thought in a sudden panic. She turned her head, painfully. They were there. And alive. They were even stirring. The cords they’d been tied with were lying on the carpet, sizzling with that same blue energy. It’s so weird to have a carpet without a house to go with it, Jez thought fuzzily. She was going away again. And that was too bad, but at least it didn’t hurt anymore. The pain was gone completely, replaced by a warm and sleepy feeling-and the sensation of gently floating outward. Her eyelids felt heavy. â€Å"Jez? Jez!† It was a husky whisper. Jez opened her eyes to see Morgead’s face. He was crying. Oh, dear, that was bad. Jez hadn’t seen him cry since†¦ when was it? Sometime when they’d been little kids†¦. Jez, can you hear me? Now he was talking in her mind. Jez blinked again, and tried to think of something comforting to say to him. â€Å"I feel warm,† she whispered. â€Å"No, you don’t!† He said it almost in a growl. Then he looked behind him, and Jez saw Hugh and Claire crawling up. They were all shining with golden light. â€Å"You’re so pretty,† she told them. â€Å"Like angels.† â€Å"This isn’t the time for your weird humor!† Morgead shouted. â€Å"Stop it! Don’t yell at her!† That was Claire. Claire was crying, too, lovely tears that shone as they fell. She reached out and took Jez’s hand, and that was nice, although Jez couldn’t exactly feel it. She could see it. â€Å"She’s going to be all right,† Morgead was snarling. â€Å"She’s lost blood, but she’ll be okay.† Someone was stroking Jez’s hair off her face. She felt that; it was pleasant. She frowned slowly at Morgead, because there was something important to tell him, and talking was difficult. â€Å"Tell Hugh†¦Ã¢â‚¬  she whispered. â€Å"Tell Hugh your freaking self! He’s right here! And you’re not going anywhere.† Jez blinked with the difficulty changing focus. Yes, there was Hugh. He was the one stroking her hair. â€Å"Hugh†¦ the prophecy. I figured out what the two eyes watching were. They’re the sun and the moon-get it? Two eyes†¦ for somebody who belongs to both worlds.† â€Å"The Day World and the Night World,† Hugh said softly. â€Å"You got it, Jez. That was so smart.† â€Å"And blood,† Jez whispered. ‘†Power in the blood’-that’s why I couldn’t do it anytime I wanted. Blood has to flow before you can let out the power. The first two times Claire was scratching me. And this time . . .† Her voice died off, but it wasn’t important. Everybody could see the blood this time, she knew. Hugh’s voice was thick. â€Å"That was smart, too, Jez. You figured it out. And you saved us. You did everything just right.† â€Å"No†¦ because there’s only going to be three Wild Powers now†¦.† â€Å"No, there aren’t,† Morgead raged. â€Å"Listen to me, Jez. There’s no reason for you to die-â€Å" Jez couldn’t manage a smile anymore, or a sentence. But she whispered gently, â€Å"Wood†¦ poison.† â€Å"No, it isn’t! Not to humans. And you’re half human, Jez. You’re vampire enough to survive something that would kill a human, but you’re human enough not to be poisoned by wood.† Jez knew better. She couldn’t see much anymore. Only Morgead, and he was getting indistinct. It wasn’t that the world was dimming, though-it was getting brighter. Everything was golden and shining. Four less one and darkness triumphs, Jez thought I’m so sorry about that. I hope they can manage it somehow. It would be so sad for everything human to be lost. There’s so much good in the world, and so much to love†¦. She couldn’t even see Morgead now. Only gold. But she could hear. She could hear Claire whispering to her in a voice broken by tears, and feel wetness dropping on her face. â€Å"I love you, Jez. You’re the best cousin anybody could ever have.† And Hugh. He was crying, too. â€Å"Jez, I’m so proud to be your friend†¦.† And then, through the mist and the gold and the warmth and peace, came a voice that wasn’t gentle at all. That was roaring in sheer outrage and fury. â€Å"DONT YOU DARE DIE ON ME, JEZEBEL! DON’T YOU DARE! Or I’ll follow you to the next world and KILL you.† Suddenly, in the pretty gold mist, she could see something else. The only thing in the universe that wasn’t golden. It was a silver cord. â€Å"You come back and you do it right now,† Morgead bellowed in her ears and in her mind. â€Å"Right now! Do you hear me?† The peace was shattered. Nothing seemed quite so warm and wonderful anymore, and she knew that once Morgead got into one of his Excited States, he wouldn’t stop yelling until he got what he wanted. And there was the cord right in front of her. It was strong, and she could feel that the other end was somewhere in. Morgead’s heart, and that he was trying to drag her back to him. All right. Maybe if I just grab on†¦. Somehow, she was holding on to it, and bit by bit, pulling herself back. And then the golden light was fading and she was inside a body that hurt and Morgead was holding her and kissing her and crying all at the same time. Claire’s voice came from beyond him. â€Å"She’s breathing again! She’s breathing!† â€Å"I love you, you stupid human,† Morgead gasped against Jez’s cheek. â€Å"I can’t live without you. Don’t you know that?† Jez whispered, â€Å"I told you never to call me Jezebel.† Then she fainted. â€Å"Time for a nice bath,† the nurse said. â€Å"And then we can have a visitor.† Jez eyed her narrowly. The woman was kind, but she had some mania for sponge baths, and she was always putting strange-smelling ingredients in the water. Which was actually not that surprising since she was a witch. â€Å"Skip the bath,† Jez said. â€Å"Let the visitor in.† â€Å"Now, now,† the witch said, shaking a finger and advancing with the sponge. Jez sighed. Being a Wild Power in a Circle Daybreak sanctuary meant that she could have pretty much anything she wanted-except that everyone was still treating her like a little kid. Especially the nurses, who spoiled her and flattered her, but talked to her as if she were about three. Still, she was glad to let the Circle take care of some things. Keeping her relatives safe, for instance. Although she was almost fully recovered, thanks to a strong constitution and a lot of healing spells from the witches, she wasn’t up to that yet. Uncle Bracken and the entire Goddard family needed constant protection, since Hunter Redfern and the Night World Council were all undoubtedly after them by now. The Circle had imported some experts from back East to take care of it. A rival vampire hunter, of all things, named Rashel something. Plus her soulmate, a vampire-turned-Daybreaker called Quinn. At least they were competent. They’d gotten Jez’s uncle Bracken, as well as the remnants of the gang out of San Francisco, a city that was going to be bad for their health for a while. Morgead was trying to get the gang to join Circle Daybreak for their own good, and he said that Raven, at least, was showing some interest. Val and Thistle were being stubborn, but that was hardly surprising. What was important was that they were alive. Pierce, on the other hand, was simply gone. No one had seen a trace of him or Lily or any of her people since Jez blasted them. Apparently they had truly been vaporized, and Jez couldn’t bring herself to feel too badly. â€Å"All done!† the nurse said brightly, straightening Jez’s pajama top. Which was just as well because at that moment a black head came poking in the door. â€Å"What is going on in here? You getting ready to go to the opera or something?† Jez raised her eyebrows at Morgead. â€Å"Maybe. Are you telling me I can’t?† He snorted and came in as the nurse went out â€Å"I wouldn’t dare tell you that. You’re the princess, right? You can have anything.† â€Å"Right,† Jez said, with huge satisfaction. â€Å"So how*re Hugh and Claire?† â€Å"Claire’s fine; she fits right in with the witches here. I think she’s trying to get them to put up a Web page. And Hugh’s just his same stupid self. He’s off saving chipmunks from toxic waste or something.† â€Å"And how about the kid?† â€Å"The kid,† Morgead said, â€Å"is living it up. The Day-breakers are crazy about her; something about one of the oldest Old Souls ever found:-I dunno. Anyway, they’re trying to talk her mom into letting her live here. She says thanks for saving her life and she’s drawing you a picture.† Jez nodded, pleased. It would be nice if Iona came to live at the sanctuary; it meant Jez could see her a lot. Not that Jez planned to live here all the time herself-she and Morgead needed their freedom. They couldn’t be penned in; they had to be able to come and go. She just hadn’t gotten around to telling the Daybreakers that yet. With the people she loved taken care of, she could turn her attention to other matters. â€Å"Is that chocolate?† â€Å"It’s the only reason you like to see me, isn’t it?† Morgead said, allowing her to take the box. He sat beside her, looking tragic. â€Å"Nah,† Jez said with her mouth full. She swallowed. â€Å"Everybody brings ’em.† Then she grinned. â€Å"I like to see you for a different reason.† He grinned wickedly back. â€Å"I can’t think what that could be.† â€Å"Hmm†¦ you’re right†¦ maybe there is no other reason.† â€Å"Watch it, Jezebel,† he growled and leaned forward menacingly. â€Å"Don’t call me that, idiot.† â€Å"You’re the idiot, idiot.† â€Å"And you’re-† But Jez never got to finish, because he stopped her mouth with a kiss. And then his arms were around her-so gently- and the silver cord was humming and everything was warm and there were only the two of them in the world. One from the land of kings long forgotten; One from the hearth which still holds the spark; One from the Day World where two eyes are watching; One from the twilight to be one with the dark. [The End] How to cite Night World : Huntress Chapter 18, Essay examples