The Colosseum: Lessons No One Ever Taught Us – Part II

This first section is a brief explanation of my Italy blog posts, which were inspired by my 2-week trip to Italy in May, 2025. Feel free to skip this section if you’ve read it before.

Dear Reader, If you read my Italy posts in the order in which they’ve come out, it may seem as though we hopped back and forth all over the country, but I have decided not to write these posts sequentially. I want to write about the things that interest me most, as the spirit moves me. For some topics, I may even combine cities. I hope that by doing so, you’ll find it a lot more interesting than if I just give you a tedious day by day description of our itinerary, as if I were your Aunt Mabel forcing you to sit down and watch all her Super 8 films of the family road trip to Niagara Falls from 1966.

If you have any questions, comments or suggestions about how I’m approaching this travelogue-within-a-blog, please let me know in the comments below!

This is the second in a 2-part series on all the misinformation we have been fed about the Colosseum throughout our lives. That may be due, in part, to the fact that we’re gathering more information with each passing day, and the more we know, the more we understand. Another factor is that sometimes misinformation is much more exciting than reality, and of course Hollywood takes that ball and runs with it every chance it gets. And, of course, some truths make people uncomfortable.

I think you’ll find that today’s reveals are even more eye-opening than those of the last post. Don’t think of this as a refresher course. Think of it more like a remedial course, because it would almost be easier to start from scratch, throwing out everything you’ve been taught before. You’ll be stunned.

You can read all about the gladiatorial games elsewhere, so I won’t get into much detail about those. But I will say that we have all been misinformed about the decision, at the end, regarding a gladiator’s life or death. First of all, it was not the decision of the emperor (or whoever happened to be producing the games). It was the crowds’. The crowd would choose by a thumbs up or thumbs down, true, but we now know that thumbs up actually meant death. Thumbs down was the gesture to drop your sword and allow them to live.

So, the guy is on the ground. The crowd decides, with thumb gestures, what his fate will be. The editor (the organizer of the show) then determines, based on the majority, whether to send the thumbs up or down to the producer/emperor. He then echoes it, and the standing warrior either (thumbs up) kills him, or (thumbs down) spares him.

↑Lesson #10: Our thumbs have been pointing in the wrong direction.

Isn’t it fascinating how misinformed we all have been? That’s why continuing research is so important. We learn so much that way. And buckle up. The biggest reveal is down below.

Aside from gladiator games, the next most popular spectacle was the hunting of wild beasts by professional hunters. Even long after the gladiatorial games no longer occurred, these hunts persisted. In fact, they went on for about 5 centuries. Along with the countless human beings who met their death on the arena floor were the rhinoceros, hippos, bulls, bison, bears, leopards, lions, elk, boars, wolves, aurochs, crocodiles, hyenas, panthers, elephants, tigers, gazelles, giraffes, ostriches, zebras, and apes.

At one major event, 11,000 creatures were killed. Granted, this was the extreme end of the slaughter spectrum, but still, multiplied over 500 years, that’s a heck of a lot of animals. In fact, by the early 6^th century, thanks to these hunts at the Colosseum, the hippos of Egypt, the North African forest elephants, the lions of Greece, the leopards of Turkey, and the tigers of Iran were all hunted nearly to extinction.

↑Lesson #11: The Colosseum had an impact on the ecosystems of other parts of the world.

Sometimes, though, it wasn’t the professional hunters who encountered the wild beasts. When people got bored with the execution of criminals, barbarians, prisoners of war and other unfortunates who were falsely accused, the emperors came up with a little more showmanship. The condemned were thrown into the arena to be slaughtered by fierce animals such as lions. Others were forced to act out stories from mythology. For example, one criminal was dressed up as Orpheus and forced to play a lyre amid wild animals, until a bear ripped him apart. Another was burned to death like Hercules was, before he became a god.

Here’s another interesting question: Where were all these animals housed when they weren’t “on the clock”? It seems that the ruminants were allowed to graze on the estates of emperors, but the predators? The fact is, no one knows for sure. And that is a question I would love to have answered.

At the end of each event, the arena meat (sans the condemned, and the less fortunate hunters, of course) would be barbecued and given to the people. That might have provided some much-needed incentive for attending, especially for those sitting on the lower levels, because these events could be quite dangerous. These wild animals were roaming free after all, and a tiger in the stands could do quite a bit of damage. Before each event, they’d line the arena with elephant tusks pointed inward, and there would be archers positioned at intervals, poised to kill any rogue animals, but your safety could never be guaranteed.

↑Lesson #12: Even the spectators were risking their lives in the Colosseum.

Another thing I never thought of is what people saw when standing in the Colosseum and looking outward. I’m sure there were pauses in these day-long events, to drag carcasses away and change props, for example, and people probably got up to get food and water and to use the latrines, and just socialize. So what did they see?

The answer to that, of course, depends on when you were there, but I’ll start by saying that the Colosseum’s real name is the Flavian Amphitheatre, and it was built to restore the Roman Empire to its former glory after the excesses of Nero. It was built on the grounds of his Domus Aurea to show the people that Rome belonged to the people, not to Nero. In order to emphasize that, they took the colossal bronze statue of Nero, altered it to resemble the Sun God instead, and placed it next to the building. Spectators would have seen that statue until the 4^th century. The statue was 98 feet tall. The Colosseum was 150 feet tall. Hence it’s name. The Colosseum was more colossal than the colossus that was once Nero.

Another thing they may have seen is the Arch of Constantine, which was built right next door in 312 AD, following his successful battle against Maxentius at the Battle of Milvian Bridge. Further away, you can still see the Temple of Venus and Rome which was built in 141 AD by Emperor Hadrian. It sits on the edge of the Roman Forum. And if you looked to the southeast of the Forum, one year after the Colosseum was completed, you could see the Arch of Titus, built by Emperor Domitian shortly after the death of his older brother Titus, to commemorate Titus’s official deification and the victory of Titus together with their father, Vespasian, over the Jewish rebellion in Judaea.

History is always written by the victors, isn’t it? A “fun fact” is that the Arch of Titus was built by skilled laborers, but the Jewish slaves depicted on the arch are the ones who built the Colosseum. But you don’t hear much about those people. Heavens no.

So, even if you weren’t into the gore, it would probably be worth going to the Colosseum for the spectacular views and the camaraderie, which would make you feel a part of a safe and solid empire. (And it would get you out of your cramped, unpleasant insula, which would very likely have been even worse than any tenement apartment we can imagine.)

↑Lesson #13: The year 80 was a great time to be an architect Rome. In contrast, some might say it has never been a great time to be a Jew in Rome. (Antisemitism is alive and well.) But hey, at least the views were spectacular.

Despite the atrocities that took place in the Colosseum, the Romans could be justifiably proud of this edifice. And you could tell they were from all the plaques they left, taking credit for various installations, additions and restorations. Still, I bet they’d be astounded to know that it is still standing after nearly 1,946 years.

And it has seen a lot in its lifetime. We always seem to focus on the time of the gladiators. We never think about the fact that it has been a building without gladiators for a lot longer than it has been a building with them. The gladiator era only lasted about 350 years. The animal hunts continued for about another century. Then, in the late 6^th century, the Colosseum was used for things most of us never knew about. In the late 6^th century, a small chapel was built in part of the stands. But at no point was the entire building considered a church.

If you do a deep dive into this subject, you’ll often read that the arena floor was turned into a graveyard. Since I was curious as to where all those bodies would have wound up, and if they were buried above or below ground or cremated, I did, indeed, dive deeply. And from what I can tell, the graveyard is yet another myth about the Colosseum. It’s often repeated, but never by any creditable source that I could find. Even Wikipedia’s footnote about it, when you click on it, leads you to a suspect website with other misinformation about the Colosseum.

↑Lesson #14: The arena floor was once a cemetery! Wait. No, it wasn’t! Critical thinking matters.

We do know, however, that eventually the arena itself was buried under as much as 40 feet of dirt and debris, and that was only cleared away during Mussolini’s revitalization of Rome’s historic city center. In fact, it had become so overgrown that scholarly studies had been done about the flora of the Colosseum. More than 400 different plants have been identified, some of which were unique to that site. Is it any wonder that this would be true, after centuries of exotic animal dung, blood from countless sources, ancient food debris, and carcasses?

We also know that over the years, the Colosseum became a place where people lived, planted vegetables, kept livestock, stored hay and dumped livestock dung. On the North side, you could find tiers of houses, complete with chimneys. In the passageways underneath the stands, you could find cobblers, blacksmiths, cart makers, priests, lime makers, glue makers and money-changers.

↑Lesson #15: The Colosseum had its own thriving community.

In the 12^th Century it became a fortress for the Frangipani family. By then, people had completely forgotten what the Colosseum had been originally used for. Rumor had it that it had been a former temple to the Sun God or to the Devil. They thought it had once been covered by a bronze or copper dome.

↑Lesson #16: If you think the game of telephone allows inaccuracies to creep in, throw about 1200 years into the mix and see what happens.

When the popes moved their headquarters to Avignon, France in 1309 and stayed there for the next 67 years, Rome was practically abandoned. The Colosseum became a den of thieves. The earthquake in 1349 caused the South side to collapse, and that’s when people really started to pick it apart for building material. The pope at the time finally leased it out as a quarry. In the 1400’s, although pillaging continued, it was occasionally used for religious processions and plays.

↑Lesson #17: Humans will always seize the opportunity to pick on the vulnerable.

Here’s where the biggest bit of misinformation about the Colosseum begins to rear its ugly head. As you’ll notice, I haven’t mentioned Christians in any way in this post so far. You’d think I would have done so by now, wouldn’t you? The martyrdom of the Christians in the Colosseum is one of the first things people think about when discussing this historic site. Here’s the problem with that:

Biggest lesson of all: There is no evidence that any Christians were martyred for their faith in the Colosseum. None at all.

Were Christians martyred in Rome? Absolutely. Especially in the Circus Maximus. Did Christians die in the Colosseum? Most likely. There were probably Christian gladiators, hunters, and criminals. But their faith was not why they were there.

Throughout history, the Colosseum was not considered a sacred site for any reason, including that of Christian martyrdom, despite the fact that various shrines, churches and sects came and went, as they did all over Rome. The entire Colosseum was never wholly a religious site. The popes, over time, had an active role in deciding what to do with it, but they often proposed secular uses, such as a quarry, stables, shops, etc. At a time when sacred sites were being venerated and restored throughout the city, the Colosseum was being torn to pieces in order to restore those sites, not for its own restoration. It wasn’t even listed as a place for pilgrims to visit.

That is, until Pope Pius V, who was pope from 1566-1572, decided to change all that. He recommended that the sand on the arena floor was soaked with the blood of Christian martyrs, and therefore would make a great souvenir for pilgrims. But even then, many of his contemporaries did not agree with him. (And besides, the sand that was placed on the arena floor to absorb blood during events was pushed out and replaced after every event, so any blood of martyrs, if it had been there, would be long gone.)

In the late 1580’s, Pope Sixtus V wanted the Colosseum to become a wool factory, to provide jobs and housing for prostitutes. But when he died in 1590, the plans fell through. The excuse was that it would be too expensive. Does that sound like it was considered a particularly sacred site at the time?

But these myths have a habit of never dying. In 1653, a man named Martinelli wrote a book that listed places that were sacred to martyrs, and he put the Colosseum at the very top of that list. And people slowly began to believe the story. (And Hollywood sure hasn’t done anything to set us straight.)

But not all people believed it yet. Not even the most religious ones. In 1671, Cardinal Altieri authorized the Colosseum’s use for bullfights. But the general populus had bought into the myth enough by then that there was a public outcry. How dare you disrespect this sacred site like that? For shame! That would be an act of desecration! (It wasn’t that they had a problem with bullfights. They just didn’t want them at that location.)

Finally, Pope Clement X had to step in and put a stop to the whole bullfight thing. And to make himself perfectly clear, he closed the whole Colosseum and declared it a sanctuary. And there you have it. Now it was official. The Colosseum was a religious building. And yet, oddly enough, the quarrying continued. The Colosseum became increasingly neglected, and the aforementioned flora took over.

But wait a second! This is a sacred site, isn’t it? Finally, Pope Benedict XIV (1740-1758) officially forbade the quarrying, and placed Stations of the Cross around the arena. They stayed in place until 1874.

There’s also a grey cross that was erected inside the Colosseum, just in front of where the Emperor’s box would have been. (If you zoom in, you can see it in the extreme right of the photo below. It has a plaque on it that says, “The amphitheater, one consecrated to triumphs, entertainments, and the impious worship of pagan gods, is now dedicated to the sufferings of the martyrs purified from impious superstitions.”

You can find other crosses around the arena, and on Good Friday each year, the pope leads a procession to the amphitheater. There are also signs over two of the entrances that have crosses above them. One says, when translated:

“The Flavian Amphitheatre, dedicated by impious worship to triumphal celebrations and spectacles, an honor to the gods of the people, has been expiated from impure superstition by the gore of martyrs; and, lest the memory of their fate should pass away, it has been established as a monument by Pope Clement X in the jubilee year of 1675, with the old ruined walls having been whitewashed, since what was depicted on them had been rubbed out by the injury of time;

“Pope Benedict XIV took pains that the marble should be returned, in the jubilee year of 1750, and the tenth year of his pontificate”

The second sign must have been installed later, because it says all of the above, but it adds the following:

“Pope Pius XI, since the middle portion was also in need of building up, took pains to do so, and restored its memory in the year 1852, the seventh year of his pontificate.”

Yes, it’s true that it was the popes who really stepped up to get restoration started. So I suppose, under the circumstances, it was the martyrdom myth, which the Catholics themselves created, that saved the Colosseum. I cannot say whether they sincerely believed it by that point, or if they had, in the forefront of their minds, the fact that the Colosseum draws tourists, and tourists bring in money. (In 2023, 12 million people visited the Colosseum. That same year, less than 7 million visited the Vatican Museums, which is a mere 9 metro stops away.)

So there I stood, inside the Colosseum, a place I had dreamed of being for as long as I can remember, and I could feel reality shifting. So much of what I had been taught was wrong. And there is still so much to learn. Unspeakably horrific things occurred in this place, and yet somehow there was also a discernible beauty.

As I looked down into the hypogeum and up into the stands, I tried to imagine what it must be like to be born and raised in Rome. Is it ever possible to take this place for granted? Can you drive past it without really seeing it? If so, how do you manage to pull that off?

As if to provide a juxtaposition to keep me grounded, there was a guy tuning a grand piano on the arena floor. Jan told us this was far from usual. Was there to be an event coming up? Would they be shooting a video of some sort? We never found out. But as I looked around at these formidable ruins and watched people take selfies and pawn their house pets off as emotional support animals (thus making it so hard for people who actually need them to be taken seriously), I felt the past and the present expanding and contracting, as if time itself were breathing deeply all around me, and would continue to do so long after I was gone. And it was fitting.

Here is a compilation of some short videos Dear Husband took during our visit. Enjoy!