The Men Named Epaphroditus by L.J. Trafford

Large stone inscription found on the Esquiline Hill. The name Epaphroditus is visible

Roman names are annoying. All those Gaiuses, Luciuses and Marcuses. Gaius Octavius calling his son Gaius Octavius. Mark Antony calling his two daughters Antonia and err Antonia. Every second female in Augustus’ massive clan being a Julia.
It can make it difficult to ascertain whether you have the right Gaius or Julia.

With slaves this is even harder. They have only one name and then on freedom add to it the name (s) of their master or mistress. Their lives are not as well documented as the Roman elite . And they too have popular names that crop up again and again. The most popular name for slaves is Felix, meaning happy (an ironic use given their slave status? Or wishful thinking?) Second to this is Epaphroditus, meaning charming.

I want to take this second name, Epaphroditus, and have a look at a few notable Epaphrodituses who all lived in the same period, the first century AD, querying whether they were in actuality the same man.


The Emperor’s Secretary

Nero, Epaphroditus' master

Our first Epaphroditus is fully known as Tiberius Claudius Epaphroditus and he was an Imperial freedman, that is an ex slave of the Emperor. In this case he was freed by Nero.

TC Epaphroditus appears at three precise moments in the historical record. Firstly in 65AD when a man named Milchus brings him word of a huge conspiracy against Nero. This was the Piso conspiracy that brought down a praetorian prefect, the poet Lucan, Nero’s party planner Petronius and his own tutor Seneca.

That Epaphroditus is the man who Milchus approaches and is able to put the matter before Nero shows that TC Epaphroditus enjoyed a good position in the Imperial bureaucracy. It was about to get better. Nero rewarded him heavily for his role in uncovering the Piso conspiracy. He was advanced into the equestrian rank and bestowed with titles. We even know what these titles were for a whopping big stone was uncovered on the Esquiline Hill in Rome (seen at the top of this post). That Epaphroditus commissioned such a monument to himself shows, I would say, a certain pride in his accomplishments.

The next mention of TC Epaphroditus is in 68AD. A rebellion was threatening Nero. Another emperor, Galba had been declared by the legions. Deserted by his own Guard Nero fled Rome. He took with him three men: the eunuch Sporus (the subject of a previous History Girls post of mine), a freedman named Phaon and Epaphroditus.

That Epaphroditus accompanied Nero on this final journey demonstrates how close and how trusted he was by the Emperor.

It was Epaphroditus who performed the greatest of favours for his master. “Then with the help of his secretary Epaphroditus he stabbed himself in the throat.” Suetonius

However this assistance to Nero would come back to haunt him. The reign of Domitian (81-96AD ) slowly descended into paranoia. Fearful of plots against him from within his own household, Domitian set to make an example. “To remind his staff that even the best of intentions could never justify a freedman’s complicity in his master’s murder, he executed his secretary Epaphroditus who had reputedly helped Nero to commit suicide.” Suetonius


This probably occurred in 95AD. A year or so after he was initially exiled. He was most likely over 70 by this point.


The Philosopher’s Master.

Our second Epaphroditus is linked to the Stoic philosopher Epictetus. Epictetus ran a thriving philosophy school in the Greek city of Nicopolis in the early 2nd century. He was born around 55AD into slavery and brought to Rome. He himself tells us the name of his master, Epaphroditus - Nero’s freedman.
For a long time this was thought to be the same Epaphroditus who helped Nero commit suicide. My own copy of Epictetus states this as fact. However a paper by PRC Weaver comprehensively unpicks this and casts doubt that they are the same man.

The key passage that Weaver quotes is this tale:

“Epaphroditus once owned a slave, a shoemaker, who he sold because he was no good. As chance would have it he was brought by one of the Imperial household and became shoemaker to Caesar. You should have seen Epaphroditus flatter him then! 

“And how is my friend Felicio today?” Whenever one of us asked. “Where is the master?” he would be told, “He is in conference with Felicio.” 

This doesn’t not sound like a freedman who was in such high standing he was one of only three people Nero took with him during his desperate flight from Rome. The man who gained so many titles after uncovering the Piso conspiracy surely had no need to flatter a cobbler to gain Imperial favour.

Epictetus’ Epaphroditus sounds more like a petty courtier rather than a trusted Imperial favourite.


The Literary Patron.

Bust of Josephus

Our third Epaphoditus is connected to the Jewish Historian Titus Flavius Josephus.  Captured in Judaea in 67AD Josephus defected to the Romans, acting as an advisor/translator to the future emperor Titus. He was later taken to Rome where he wrote several important works including one on the Jewish War.
This work was dedicated to an Epaphroditus. Of whom he says:

“Epaphroditus, a man who is a lover of all kind of learning; but is principally delighted with the knowledge of history; and this on account of his having been himself concerned in great affairs, and many turns of fortune; and having shewn a wonderful vigor of an excellent nature, and an immoveable virtuous resolution in them all. I yielded to this man’s persuasions; who always excites such as have abilities in what is useful and acceptable, to join their endeavours with his.” 

Josephus also dedicates his autobiography to him

“But to thee, O Epaphroditus, thou most excellent of men, do I dedicate all this treatise of our Antiquities” 

His work Against the Greeks is similarly dedicated to Epaphroditus.
This would suggest that Epaphroditus is a patron to Josephus’ works. It would make sense that Josephus’ patron was someone within the Imperial palace. It was standard for the literary inclined to seek influence with the emperor via the imperial freedmen. Martial writes several poems mentioning emperor Domitian’s chamberlain Parthienus and the gifts exchanged between them.
The timing is right too to connect with our first Epaphroditus. Josephus was in Rome from the 70s AD as was our secretary Epaphroditus.
However there is an issue with the publication dates of Josephus’ works, they coincide with the exile and later execution of TC Epaphroditus. It seems unlikely that Josephus would dedicate his works to a man banished from the city by the emperor. Or address a book in the present tense to a man who had been executed. 

The Christian
St Paul, early Christian and epic traveller, was facing some troubles.

“Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters,that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear throughout the whole palace guard[ and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ.  And because of my chains, most of the brothers and sisters have become confident in the Lord and dare all the more to proclaim the gospel without fear. "

Philippians

He’d been arrested after preaching in Jersaleum and upsetting the locals. He’d been dragged from a temple by a mob and only escaped a messy death by handing himself over to some Roman centurions.

He was transported to Rome in the 60s AD to live under house arrest whist he awaited a trial. From here he wrote letters to Christian communities he had visited. Including that of the Greek city of Philippi. The community had sent an emissary to Paul to assist him in any way during these troubles. His name was Epaphroditus and he had brought gifts from the Christians at Philippi. 

“But I have all, and abound: I am full, having received of Epaphroditus the things which were sent from you, an odour of a sweet smell, a sacrifice acceptable, wellpleasing to God” 

Epaphroditus took his role representing the Philippian church and assisting Paul extremely seriously. So seriously that it made him ill.

“ But I think it is necessary to send back to you Epaphroditus, my brother, co-worker and fellow soldier, who is also your messenger, whom you sent to take care of my needs. For he longs for all of you and is distressed because you heard he was ill. Indeed he was ill, and almost died. But God had mercy on him, and not on him only but also on me, to spare me sorrow upon sorrow. Therefore I am all the more eager to send him, so that when you see him again you may be glad and I may have less anxiety. So then, welcome him in the Lord with great joy, and honor people like him, because he almost died for the work of Christ. He risked his life to make up for the help you yourselves could not give me.” 

Presumably Epaphroditus returned to Philippi to recover. This is the last we hear of him in the new testament. St Paul was sadly killed during Nero’s persecution of the Christians after the Great Fire of Rome in 64AD


The Waiter
I have one final Epaphroditus to offer up as an example of the depth and variety of Epaphrodituses hanging about in the first century AD. It’s from Herculaneum and so we can date it to the 80s AD or the very late 70s if the city cleaners were lax with their wall cleaning.
It’s a piece of graffiti from outside a bar.

Two friends were here.  While they were, they had bad service in every way from a guy named Epaphroditus.  They threw him out and spent 105 and half sestertii most agreeably on whores. 

The Man Named Epaphroditus
OK I think it’s clear these are all different men who happened to live during the same time period in the same part of the world.
But isn’t it more fun to imagine it’s the same man.
The Imperial freedman subject to the whim of an emperor, so that one day he is his most trusted companion and the next day so far from favour as to be jealous of a cobbler.
A ‘charming’ man who was a friend to both a Jewish Historian and a Christian Preacher.
And who keeping it real and down with the folk, supplemented his secretary’s salary with a bit of part time bar work in Herculaneum.


What a guy!


L.J. Trafford is the author of a series of books that feature Nero's secretary Epaphroditus as a character.

Writing culture and religion into historical fiction, by Gillian Polack

The Jewish New Year is today, so I’m going to celebrate it with a post that contains things Jewish. And I’m going to put other things in it because I can. I was on four panels at a science fiction conference today – this makes me obstreperous.

One of my panels was on fairytales and folk culture. Someone asked me what the Jewish tradition said in relation to the concepts she knew from her popular culture. The example she gave was grouping things in threes. My first thought was “We’re both Australian, I do what she does on this. Why has she assumed I do something different?” I thought this was not a kind thing to ask, so I asked her what she meant by Jewish tradition. It came back, in the end, to the same thing. She thought there was one folk culture.

Judaism has many, many cultures. My culture is Australian Jewish or Jewish Australian (depending on the mood I’m in when I get out of bed in the morning) and my Jewish language is English. I am notorious for using threes in my fiction. In my novel about haunted Canberra, I have three friends for instance, at the heart of everything. I explained this, but I also asked her what her Christian tradition was. She instantly gave her branch of Christianity and worked within that. She had the power to reinterpret the question (after a few minutes thought) whereas I was expected to stick with a universal. That’s one reason I asked what she meant by “Jewish tradition” – she didn’t mean my personal background. She meant a universal. The bottom line is that there is an assumption underlying questions of certain minorities. I’m expected to answer for all Jews, but I’m a sadly limited human being and can only answer for the cultures I know.

Where does history fit into this? Firstly, I wanted an excuse to give you a picture of Montpellier’s mikvah (ritual bath). I took the picture in 2011, and the research trip was helped by ArtsACT. The bath doesn’t appear in any of my fiction yet, but Montpellier itself is in Langue[dot]doc 1305. I happen to like this picture. 

Medieval Mikvah, Montpellier Picture (c) Gillian Polack, 2011.

This brings me to “where does history fit” #2. The Serious Answer.

I am a Medievalist. That’s why I have a picture of a mikvah on my computer. It’s possible to answer that set of questions for the Middle Ages. In fact, not only is it possible, it’s essential for writers to do so.

So often we say English vs French, when the English people can be from Cambridgeshire or Cornwall and have very little folklife in common and the French could be Normandy or Aquitaine. Some of the people might be Jewish. In the south of France, there were Moslem French people, and Cathars. There are books written on these cultural variations in the Middle Ages. We can find out quite a bit about them. They have their own identities. Many Cathars and Jews died protecting their cultural and religious identities.

It’s so important not to say “medieval people” as if they were all the same. There is no single “medieval person.” When we construct one for our fiction, we construct from a variety of sources and, ideally, create an individual who represents their place and their time and not the stereotype. There is a medieval notion of “Everyman” but this doesn’t make all people into that one theoretical being.

If there isn’t a single universal modern Jew, then there wasn’t a single universal medieval one. What’s more, medieval Jews and Christians shared a whole heap of culture, just as I do with the others on that panel. Three religions on that panel today, and we all wrote groups of three into our stories. What unites us is at least as important as what divides us. I’m not just talking about current events. This works for writing fiction as well. Let me explore a bit.

Just as my ‘Jewish language’ is English, in England and France in the Middle Ages, the chief Jewish language was Old French. There are accounts written in Old French in Hebrew characters and there are notes written in Old French on religious and legal texts. My favourite illustration of this is always (so I’ve overused it!) the word for divorce, which comes to us from Jewish sources. If we only had Christian texts from the Middle Age, we wouldn’t know that there was a word for it in Old French at all. The word is ‘akitement’, and it pretty much means ‘finishing the contract’ in my reading of it. Jewish marriage was (and is) a contract rather than a sacrament, and this explains why we have the word from Jewish sources. It’s interesting that the Hebrew had to be glossed with the Old French – Old French was the language people used, then, when they wanted to talk about these issues. For a historical romance, it means that there is the notion of divorce but not a simple way of achieving it for Christians. This is an amazing tension to add to a story about an unhappy marriage. “They can get out of misery without great sacrifice, but we can’t.”

Then there is the Jewish Arthur, who is Italian but written in Hebrew. A short, unfinished work exists from the thirteenth century called “King Arthur” (Melekh Artus). My other favourite Jewish Arthurian story is later. It’s “Widuwilt”, a variant of a German version of a French story about Gawain’s nephew. This demonstrates that culture can be shared across borders and across religions. People talk to each other. Very handy when you want characters to hold conversations, for there are certain subjects they share. A useful tool for writers, and it’s based on understanding that culture is complex.

When we ask “What is the tradition?” we need to allow for cultural crossings and border crossings; we need to look at how the owners of the culture see themselves and describe themselves; we need to get the historical contexts and the cultural contexts right. If we don’t, we have fewer tools to work with to create marvellous stories. If we don’t then we’re more liable to create hollow characters. Universal Jews, Universal Englishmen (who probably all eat roast beef, and if the French medieval tales are correct, who menstruate and have tails), Universal Frenchmen (who, if the English medieval tales are correct all eat horse and are cowardly).

Breaking stereotypes is important for living successfully in culturally mixed society. We hear this a lot. It applies just as much to writing fiction as to living in a complex society. The stereotypes are not the people. They’re a set of attitudes that have developed due to culturally important reasons, but they are not the people who are described. The historical fiction that sees the biases and shows the individuals and how they deal with being told they have tails or are cowardly has a far greater kick to it than fiction that merely repeats those stereotypes.

This small reflection of the emotions we feel when we are caught up in one of those moments enables us to feel understanding with people in other places, at other times. The tension between the way someone is described and the way someone is as a person is a powerful tool for fiction because it can contain such a very big emotional range.

So many people have told me we need to get past stereotypes and prejudices because it’s a worthy thing to do, but it’s important to say that it’s also a useful thing to do, technically. It makes for better reading. More interesting characters. Sympathetic plotlines. Readers will defend a character strenuously when they’re described in a negative way due to stereotyping. How could someone say that this character was lazy, when it’s obvious to the reader that they’re hardworking?

It’s not just stupid peasants or abusive lords then that we have to get past as writers. History is complex and the complexity helps us so much as writers.