161 - The rape of a joyful sabine

The Rape of the Sabine Women is an episode in the legendary history of Rome in which the first generation of Roman men acquired wives for themselves from the neighboring Sabine families. The English word "rape" is a conventional translation of Latin raptio, which in this context means "abduction" rather than its prevalent modern meaning of sexual violation. Recounted by Livy and Plutarch (Parallel Lives II, 15 and 19), it provided a subject for Renaissance and post-Renaissance works of art that combined a suitably inspiring example of the hardihood and courage of ancient Romans with the opportunity to depict multiple figures, including heroically semi-nude figures, in intensely passionate struggle. Comparable themes from Classical Antiquity are the Battle of the Lapiths and Centaurs and the theme of Amazonomachy, the battle of Theseus with the Amazons. A comparable opportunity drawn from Christian legend was afforded by the theme of the Massacre of the Innocents.
The Rape is supposed to have occurred in the early history of Rome, shortly after its founding by Romulus and his mostly male followers. Seeking wives in order to found families, the Romans negotiated unsuccessfully with the Sabines, who populated the area. Fearing the emergence of a rival society, the Sabines refused to allow their women to marry the Romans. Consequently, the Romans planned to abduct Sabine women. Romulus devised a festival of Neptune Equester and proclaimed the festival among Rome's neighbours. According to Livy, many people from Rome's neighbours attended, including folk from the Caeninenses, Crustumini, and Antemnates, and many of the Sabines. At the festival Romulus gave a signal, at which the Romans grabbed the Sabine women and fought off the Sabine men. The indignant abductees were soon implored by Romulus to accept Roman husbands.
Livy is clear that no sexual assault took place. On the contrary, Romulus offered them free choice and promised civic and property rights to women. According to Livy, Romulus spoke to them each in person, "and pointed out to them that it was all owing to the pride of their parents in denying the right of intermarriage to their neighbours. They would live in honourable wedlock, and share all their property and civil rights, and—dearest of all to human nature—would be the mothers of free men."
War with the Sabines and other tribes
Outraged at the occurrence, the king of the Caeninenses entered upon Roman territory with his army. Romulus and the Romans met the Caeninenses in battle, killed their king, and routed their army. Romulus later attacked Caenina and took it upon the first assault. Returning to Rome, Romulus dedicated a temple to Jupiter Feretrius (according to Livy, the first temple dedicated in Rome) and offered the spoils of the enemy king as spolia opima. According to the Fasti Triumphales, Romulus celebrated a triumph over the Caeninenses on 1 March 752 BC.
At the same time, the army of the Antemnates invaded Roman territory. The Romans retaliated, and the Antemnates were defeated in battle and their town conquered. According to the Fasti Triumphales, Romulus celebrated a second triumph in 752 BC over the Antemnates.
The Crustumini also started a war, but their town too was captured by the Romans.
Roman colonists subsequently were sent to Antemnae and Crustumerium by Romulus, and many citizens of those towns also migrated to Rome (particularly the families of the captured women).
The Sabines also went to war with the Romans, led by their king, Titus Tatius. When Tatius attacked Rome, he almost succeeded in capturing the city because of the treason of Tarpeia, daughter of Spurius Tarpeius, governor of the citadel on the Capitoline Hill. She opened the city gates for the Sabines in return for "what they bore on their arms;" she believed that she would receive their golden bracelets. Instead, the Sabines crushed her to death with their shields, and she was thrown from the rock, which since has borne her name, the Tarpeian Rock.
The Roman forces attacked the Sabines, who were now in possession of the citadel. The Roman advance was led by Hostus Hostilius, and the Sabine front by Mettus Curtius. When Hostus fell, the Roman line gave way, and they retreated to the gate of the Palatium. There Romulus gathered his men and, promising to build a temple to Jupiter Stator on that site, led the Romans back into battle.
The battle continued. Mettus Curtius was unhorsed and fled the battle, and the Romans gained the upper hand.
At that point the women intervened in the battle to reconcile the warring parties:
[They] went boldly into the midst of the flying missiles with disheveled hair and rent garments. Running across the space between the two armies they tried to stop any further fighting and calm the excited passions by appealing to their fathers in the one army and their husbands in the other not to bring upon themselves a curse by staining their hands with the blood of a father-in-law or a son-in-law, nor upon their posterity the taint of parricide. "If," they cried, "you are weary of these ties of kindred, these marriage-bonds, then turn your anger upon us; it is we who are the cause of the war, it is we who have wounded and slain our husbands and fathers. Better for us to perish rather than live without one or the other of you, as widows or as orphans."
Following the reconciliation, the Sabines agreed to form one nation with the Romans and the Sabine king, Titus Tatius, jointly ruled Rome with Romulus until Tatius's death five years later.
The new Sabine residents of Rome lived on the Capitoline Hill. During the Renaissance the subject was popular as a story symbolising the central importance of marriage for the continuity of families and cultures. It was also a rare example of a battle subject, a highly popular genre, which allowed the artist to demonstrate his virtuosity in the depiction of female as well as male figures in extreme poses, with the added advantages of a titillating sexual theme. As such it was depicted regularly on 15th century Italian cassoni, and later in larger paintings. A comparable opportunity drawn from the New Testament was afforded by the theme of the Massacre of the Innocents. (Source = WIKIPEDIA)

ADDENDUM : This table has inspired Jean-Paul GAVARD-Perret - art critic, with the following untranslatable in English: Dixit J-P G.-P. = Rions un peu pour le commentaire. DIS L’HOMME : Je suis le père OK, le parfait incestueux, le levé tôt et le rentré de même, je suis ton porteur avec hallebarde, ton bâton de bergères, ton pédoncule, ton Méphisto fait d'aises. Je suis le mécréateur, le bout du bouc, le rogaton, le menu fretin au destin d'ablette, le sandwich tourneur. Bref celui qui ne se voit pas ne s'étant vu qu'en toi. J’appartiens à ton monde nocturne où ta lune ploie. Tu es ma charpie d’un seul bloc. Tes reins vont faire ce que les miens ne peuvent plus. Leurs angoisses sont notables et leur faiblesse générale. Je ne sais que faire de mon mou de ventre. Mais que mon bout ne te soit pas tabou. Ma bouche mâchurera tes miches et pour toi je serai en enfant de Plotin. Il faut que ma vieillesse se passe, s’enflamme de seins et de chatte. Te portant j’hume tes s ailes. Sexion hâte un, deux, en avant marche. Que je danser encore du museau qui traque la chapelle systite jusqu’à y mettre le feu avant la raie qu’on panse. Espérant que tu me lances « bourre ! bougre ! ». A dada sur ton papa sans qu’on en sorte fort marri. Gymnastique acrobatique. Vrombir, tartiner, gommer et dégommer. Toi chaude de reins et grasse de raie. Cavale terminée, à coup de seaux d'eau dégageant nos poils distincts. Avant de prier pour le pardon en criant au besoin. « Ne hurle pas Dieu n’est pas sourd» diras-tu. Pour le moment on colle aux quintes, tout devient rose rosse jusqu’à ce que verge vomie sa peau se mollassonne. Verge dégainée, fion giboyeux s’époussexe, se torche et se calibre. Jet du jonc dans le bénitier. Gland père, bite d’acier. Tentant tout ce que je peux. Bien dirait le fils commentant ce faux pas de papa. Bras, jambes, têtes en apesanteur. Marionnettes dans le vide, sans ficelle. Entre temps, entre toise supporter l'existence. Cancre las. Plus mouillé qu’hier et bien moins que demain. Témoignant de l’histoire qui n’a plus rien de sainte. Vrai diable donc et foutriquet de 68 ans au compteur. Gloire aux nuées, gares aux écailles. Y allant du croupion pour une énième ablumination. La caresse arrondit les anges. Jadis suceur de matrones, naguère moucheron et loustic et désormais Fregoli et Grüss. Il voudrait que ce soit déjà le soir et que tout soit passé. Avant que reprenne l’envie de recommencer.