October 13, 2018 by AdamAH

Ancient Everyday – Marriage and Divorce in Ancient Rome

Salvete, history-lovers!

Are you married? Are you divorced? Do you have children? Have you remarried?

These questions are normal enough today, as they were in ancient Rome. Marriage and divorce were common in the ancient world. We’ve inherited them from our ancient ancestors, but with some tweaks to how they are perceived, their sanctity, and the laws surrounding them.

As ever, the Romans did things a little differently than we do today.

On this edition of Ancient Everyday, we’re going to take a brief look at marriage and divorce in ancient Rome.

Marriage scene from a 4th century sarcophagus

With respect to character or soul one should expect that it be habituated to self-control and justice, and in a word, naturally disposed to virtue. These qualities should be present in both man and wife. For without sympathy of mind and character between husband and wife, what marriage can be good, what partnership advantageous? How could two human beings who are base have sympathy of spirit one with the other? Or how could one that is good be in harmony with one that is bad? (Gaius Musonius Rufus)

When it comes to ancient Rome, more is known to us about the families of the upper classes regarding marriage and divorce.

Marriage was central to Roman life, and at the heart of Roman virtues. At one point, as we’ll see, it was even a legal duty!

As in ancient Greece, Roman marriages were always monogamous. That’s not to say Roman men did not have mistresses, slaves or prostitutes, but they were only permitted one wife.

Also, a full Roman marriage was possible only if both parties were Roman citizens, or if they had been granted a conubium, permission to marry.

Officially, men were permitted to marry from fourteen years of age, and women from the age of twelve. This seems inconceivable to us, and it may also have been so for Romans since in actual practice, marriage did not usually take place until after twenty years of age.

Fresco of a husband and new bride c. 19 B.C.

Before a marriage could take place, there was a formal betrothal known as a sponsalia. This could take place, especially among the upper classes, when the children were young, and was arranged by the father of each family, the paterfamilias. To read more about the paterfamilias in ancient Rome, CLICK HERE.

Before about 445 B.C. Patricians were not permitted to marry Plebeians, and a free person could not marry a freedman or freedwoman, although this last point was altered by the legal changes instituted by Emperor Augustus – except for senators! More on the changes Augustus made shortly.

When we think of marriage in ancient Rome, we often have a perception of marriage only for political reasons or some other gain. This was certainly true among the nobles of Rome.

However, marriage was in fact a private act most of the time. It required the following: the consent of bother partners (though still dictated by the paterfamilias of each family), the living together of the man and woman with the intention of forming a lasting union, and sometimes a dos, or dowry.

Whereas today, when a man and woman get married, they sign a registry along with their witnesses, there was no prescribed formula or written contract in Roman weddings, except in the instance where a dowry was offered.

Furthermore, the marriage ceremonies had no legal status. They only indicated that a marriage now existed, the same as a dowry. Both were moral, rather than legal, requirements.

When a woman got married in the early days of Rome, she was supposed to go from her father’s house, under his control, to her husband’s house and control, in manu mariti. However, by the end of the Roman Republic, a woman, though married, remained in the control of her father, sine manu, for as long as her father lived.

A Roman woman was not absorbed into a husband’s family.

Changes were certainly afoot in ancient Rome when it came to marriage, and by the reign of Augustus and the beginning of the Empire, marriage became unpopular and birth rates dropped.

This crisis of the Roman population is what led Augustus to create reforms around marriage laws.

Augustus decreed that all men between the ages 25 and 60, and women between 20 and 50, had to marry and have children.

The emperor also instituted the ius trium liberorum, the right of three children, which instituted privileges for parents of three or more children. Some of these privileges included being excused from some civil duties, or being permitted to receive inheritances intended for their children.

Augustus as Pontifex Maximus

So what did a Roman wedding look like?

Weddings were more religious than legal in ancient Rome. They had to take place on an auspicious day, and not on the Kalends, Nones, or Ides of any month, nor during the months of May and February. June was the preferred month for marriages.

A conferatiowedding ceremony was the most serious, oldest, and most solemn of Roman weddings. It was attended by the Flamen Dialis (High Priest of Jupiter), and the Pontifex Maxiums (High Priest of the College of Pontifs), and during the ceremony the sacred panis farreus, or spelt bread, was shared. It was nearly impossible to become divorced if you were married in conferatio.

But the average Roman wedding ceremony was of a less severe nature.

At the average Roman wedding, the auspices were taken to ensure it could proceed with the gods’ blessing. There was a sacrifice of an animal, such as a pig, and then there was a banquet, or convivium. Afterward, the bride and groom might exchange gifts.

There were roughly three stages to the ceremony. First, there would be a ceremony in the home of the bride. Then, there would be a procession of both families to the home of the groom where a banquet would be served at the husband’s expense.

The Roman Wedding – Emilio Vasarri

Marriage was all well and good for the Romans, but what happened when things soured? How did they deal with divorce?

Well, as it turns out, the Romans had a much more relaxed view when it came to divorce than we do today. We actually know a bit more about Roman divorce than we do about marriage.

Unlike certain faiths today, especially since the Middle Ages, there was no religious ban on divorce in ancient Rome.

Perhaps more importantly, there was no social stigma attached to it, or to a divorced spouse.

In the early days of the Republic, a man could divorce his wife on the grounds of adultery, but the same did not go for the woman. In ancient Rome, it was accepted that men would have mistresses, concubines, and frequent the brothel, or lupanar.

A man could also divorce his wife if she was thought to be infertile. This was obviously long before thinking around lazy sperm or sterility in men!

However, the women of Rome must have rejoiced in part when, during the late Republic, men and women could initiate divorce without having to give a reason!

Men who do not like to see their wives eat in their company are thus teaching them to stuff themselves when alone. So those who are not cheerful in the company of their wives, nor join with them in sportiveness and laughter, are thus teaching them to seek their own pleasures apart from their husbands. (Plutarch)

In ancient Rome, divorce was actually common, especially among the upper classes who often used marriage as a way to solidify political alliances, depending on which way the wind was blowing.

It is estimated that 1 in 6 Roman marriages ended in divorce in the first ten years, and that 1 in 6 marriages ended through the death of a spouse.

The good news for Roman women was that upon divorce, a woman’s dowry was to be returned.

But what happened after divorce?

Well, as often happens today, people did remarry. It was a frequent occurrence, but sadly, it appears to have been more socially acceptable for men who could remarry with ease, whereas it was more difficult for a woman to remarry after a divorce.

If one was a widow, it was actually made law by Augustus’ reforms that you were required to remarry!

Mourners beside a Roman funeral couch

We’ve only really scratched the surface of marriage and divorce in ancient Rome here, but I hope it has given you an idea of that part of the ancient everyday lives of Romans.

We’ve focussed more on the ceremonial and standard practices around weddings, as well as the laws around marriage and divorce. However, one thing we have not looked at is the human element.

It’s all fine and good to have the laws or rules for such things jotted down on a piece of papyrus, or upon the surface of a wax tablet, but at the end of the day, the strengths and weaknesses, personalities and passions, of the individuals involved would have made marriage and divorce in ancient Rome as vast, varied and confusing as it is today. Perhaps more so?

This was just another look at how the everyday life of Romans was similar, but at the same time, different, to our own.

Thank you for reading.

October 14, 2017 by AdamAH

The World of the Carpathian Interlude – Part IV : Rome’s Nightmare – The Varus Disaster

Have you ever wondered why forests are so often the setting for nightmares?

Think about it. It’s true.

Ready for a fight – a scene from the movie, Centurion

I remember a recurring nightmare that I had when I was a child: I’m in a dark forest, walking by myself. My feet crunch on a carpet of dead leaves in a slow, steady rhythm. Then a second set of footsteps, comes into my hearing, only they’re faster. They’re pursuing me. I begin to panic, and run. I yell but the woods devour my cries. I believe someone is chasing me, and my heart is close to bursting… And then I wake up.

That might not seem scary now, but when you are 6 it’s another story.

Nightmares are fascinating and curious. As a child I didn’t know that the quickening steps of my forest pursuer were really the sound of the blood pulsing in my ear as it pressed into my pillow. Those woods were terrifying to me.

The Forests of Germania

Think about the woods again. How many of you have read or heard scary stories that take place in a forest? For ages, the woods or any kind of forest, have been shadow realms of the unknown, places of magic and nightmare, of beasts and death.

But there is a reason why forests have become such monsters in and of themselves. Not all tales of horror in the woods are fabricated by active, childish minds.

The Carpathian Interlude series revolves around a particular event in Roman history known as the Varus Disaster. It took place in A.D. 9, during the reign of Emperor Augustus, and it was truly the stuff of nightmares.

Public Quinctilius Varus was a patrician Roman general and member of the imperial circle who had been put in charge of the administration of Germania, which had only recently been tentatively subdued by Rome. Varus had previously had success governing provinces in Africa, Syria, and Judea, so it was believed he would be more than capable of handling Germania.

Marching through the Teutoburg Forest

Varus is said to have also had a reputation for being a tyrant who inflicted brutal punishment on the people he was governing and squeezing taxes out of.

It’s safe to say that Varus thought he was quite secure in his position. He was a skilled administrator by Roman standards, had a proven track record, the bloodline to back it up, and a staff of trusted advisors.

Among the people on Varus’ staff was a man named Arminius. Does that name ring a bell?

Arminius was the son of Segimerus, the chieftain of the Cherusci, a Germanic tribe that had bent the knee to Rome. As surety for their father’s good behaviour, Arminius and his younger brother Flavus were sent to Rome when they were just boys. We’ll focus on Arminius.

Arminius grew up in Rome, learned the ways of Roman life, and politics, and martial prowess. He began to make a name for himself and was admitted to the Equestrian order to become a cavalry officer.

When Varus was assigned to Germania, Arminius went with him as one of his most trusted advisors and skilled officers. In fact, it’s said that Varus and Arminius regularly dined together; no doubt Varus valued Arminius’ advice in governing the lands of his former people.

This is the seed of the nightmare of which I spoke earlier.

Map used for research and writing of The Carpathian Interlude

In the late summer of A.D. 9, Publius Quinctilius Varus led three legions (the XVII, XVIII, and XIX Legions) deep into Germania to collect taxes and tribute. Varus also had with him six auxiliary cohorts, three cavalry alae, slaves, and camp followers consisting of women, children, merchants and tradesmen. This was a large, slow-moving army. Because they were in a dense forest, the line of march was thin, and stretched over 15-20 kilometres.

But Varus felt he had little to worry about and was so confident that he didn’t event send scouts ahead.

Then Arminius brought word of an uprising to Varus who sent the former to take care of it. Varus was warned against Arminius by another German advisor, Segestes, who was actually a relative of Arminius. But Varus ignored Segestes’ warnings not to trust Arminius and so the nightmare really began.

Rather than supressing the uprising, Arminius instead disappeared into the forest to rally the allied Germanic tribes and attack the Roman forces.

The mountains had an uneven surface broken by ravines, and the trees grew close together and very high. Hence the Romans, even before the enemy assailed them, were having a hard time of it felling trees, building roads, and bridging places that required it. They had with them many wagons and many beasts of burden as in time of peace; moreover, not a few women and children and a large retinue of servants were following them… For the Romans were not proceeding in any regular order, but were mixed-in helter-skelter with the wagons and the unarmed, and so, being unable to form readily anywhere in a body, and being fewer at every point than their assailants, they suffered greatly and could offer no resistance at all. (Cassius Dio, The Roman History 20)

I thought my nightmare in the forest was horrifying.

Artist impression of the Battle of the Teutoburg Forest

For three days the Romans were ambushed by the Germanic tribesmen. Three days in the tangle of the Teutoburg Forest, the bogs and brambles, the rivers, and marshes, violent storms and…the dark.

Varus, the legions, and the camp followers had no chance. Arminius had learned how Romans fought, how to weaken them, and how to defeat them. He had laid his plans well, and after three days of desperate fighting, the Romans may have made their last stand at a place known today as Kalkriese.

In the end, Varus and some of the other officers took their own lives rather than fall into the enemy’s hands. Perhaps, as well as fear, it was Varus’ shame that let him to do such a thing. The total number of Roman dead? – about 20,000.

… three legions were cut to pieces with their general, his lieutenants, and all the auxiliaries… they say that he [Augustus] was so greatly affected that for several months in succession he cut neither his beard nor his hair, and sometimes he would dash his head against a door, crying: “Quinctilius Varus, give me back my legions!” And he observed the day of the disaster each year as one of sorrow and mourning… (Suetonius; Life of Augustus 23)

There is no mistaking that this was indeed a real-life nightmare for Rome, and this crushing defeat struck fear into the hearts of everyone from the lowest Suburan sewer rat right the way up to Augustus himself.

Kalkriese – the possible site of the Legions’ last stand

Years later, when Germanicus went into Germania to find the remains of the fallen legions, he came to the site of the struggle.

…they [Germanicus and his men] visited the mournful scenes, with their horrible sights and associations. Varus’s first camp with its wide circumference and the measurements of its central space clearly indicated the handiwork of three legions. Further on, the partially fallen rampart and the shallow fosse suggested the inference that it was a shattered remnant of the army which had there taken up a position. In the centre of the field were the whitening bones of men, as they had fled, or stood their ground, strewn everywhere or piled in heaps. Near, lay fragments of weapons and limbs of horses, and also human heads, prominently nailed to trunks of trees. In the adjacent groves were the barbarous altars, on which they had immolated tribunes and first-rank centurions. Some survivors of the disaster who had escaped from the battle or from captivity, described how this was the spot where the officers fell, how yonder the eagles were captured, where Varus was pierced by his first wound, where too by the stroke of his own ill-starred hand he found for himself death. They pointed out too the raised ground from which Arminius had harangued his army, the number of gibbets for the captives, the pits for the living, and how in his exultation he insulted the standards and eagles. (Tacitus, Annals 1.61)

People must have thought that the gods had turned their backs on Rome.

So how does this fit with the Carpathian Interlude?

When I think of the nightmare of the Varus disaster, what it must have felt like for the troops and camp followers who knew that the barbarians would kill them at any moment, I feel terror for them. The shock, the surprise, the desperation as people were dying all around them in such horrible ways must have been truly overwhelming.

Death

I wanted to take the terror one step further. What if Arminius had more than just the element of surprise on his side? What if he had allied himself with a darker, more powerful enemy in his desperation to crush Rome and assume hegemony over the Germanic tribes?

This is the path I’ve taken in turning this historic event into historical horror.

Cassius Dio describes the omens that Rome witnessed in the aftermath of the disaster, the fearful belief of Augustus and others that the gods were indeed angry:

For a catastrophe so great and sudden as this, it seemed to him [Augustus], could have been due to nothing else than the wrath of some divinity; moreover, by reason of the portents which occurred both before the defeat and afterwards, he was strongly inclined to suspect some superhuman agency. (Cassius Dio, The Roman History 24)

The Kalkriese Mask – worn by one of Varus’ doomed troops

In the next part of The World of The Carpathian Interlude, we will explore the ancient beliefs that helped to shape the terrible beasts that are ally to the Germanic tribes in the story.

Thank you for reading…

June 25, 2017 by AdamAH

Ancient Everyday – The Days and the Weeks in Ancient Rome

Salve readers!

We’re back in the Roman world for the third part in this mini Ancient Everyday blog series about, you guessed it: Time.

In the last two posts, we looked at how Romans tracked the years, as well as the evolution of the calendar in ancient Rome.

Today, we’re going to take a brief look at the Roman days and weeks which, in addition to many things, are one of their legacies to us.

Portion of a Roman Calendar showing the Kalends, Nones, Ides, and some festivals etc.

The Roman days of the month were not numbered serially as they are today. They were numbered in relation to three specifically named days. It was from these three specific days that the other dates were counted retrospectively.

So, what were these special days, you might ask? They were the:

Kalendae

(the Kalends – first day of the month, and origin of our word ‘calendar’)

Nonae

(the Nones – the ninth day before the Ides, or the fifth day of the month; seventh in a 31-day month; originally, the Nonae corresponded with the first quarter moon of the lunar month)

and

Idus

(the Ides – the thirteenth day; or the fifteenth day in a 31-day month; the Ides originally corresponded with the full moon of the lunar month)

The Ides of March – the date of Caesar’s assassination

So, those are the ‘special’ days in the Roman month. But how did they count the rest?

This is where it gets complicated…

The day was numbered or named by its place so many days before (ante diem) the Kalends, the Nones, or the Ides of the month.

But! The day immediately before one of the three named days was called pridie.

If you ever try to read Roman dates, you will also notice that they are always abbreviated.

Fragment of the Fasti Praenestini for the month of Aprilis (Wikimedia Commons)

In ancient Rome, the official Calendar was drawn up by the pontiffs (priests) who ensured the inclusion of the dates for religious festivals – and in ancient Rome, there were many of those! These festivals would be indicated by a letter or abbreviation representing a particular celebration beside the date.

So, those are the days of the Roman calendar, but what of the weeks? Did they have the exact same weekdays that we do? Or rather, do we have the same ones as the Romans?

Not exactly.

A Roman market day

Early on, the Roman week was eight days long. The eighth day was a market day, or nundinae.

The market day was a day of rest from agricultural labour, a time to take the produce or livestock to market.

To confuse things a little more, the period of time between market days was known as a nundinum.

The eight-day week did not last however.

The seven day period that we are familiar with was used at first in the East, especially by Hellenistic astrologers.

In Rome, the earliest reference to a seven day week is supposedly from the time of Augustus (27 B.C. – A.D. 14). This was eventually officially adopted by Emperor Constantine in A.D. 321.

Emperor Augusts

Finally, what were the names of the days of the week in ancient Rome?

Well, they were named after the gods and planets, and to this day the names used in the various Romance Languages preserve the Roman tradition. Beginning with Monday, they are:

Dies Lunae (the day of the Moon)

Dies Martis (the day of Mars)

Dies Mercurii (the day of Mercury)

Dies Jovis (the day of Jupiter)

Dies Veneris (the day of Venus)

Dies Saturni (the day of Saturn)

Dies Solis (the day of the Sun)

There you have it, the Roman days and weeks!

The legacy of the Romans never ceases to amaze me.

Next week is the fourth and final part of this Ancient Everyday blog series in which we will be looking at how the Romans told the time of day.

Until then, thank you for reading!

October 24, 2014 by AdamAH

LYKOI Unleashed!

Today is Launch Day!

That’s right, LYKOI – Carpathian Interlude Part II is now available from Amazon, Kobo, and iTunes.

For just a few days, Eagles and Dragons Publishing is offering LYKOI for a special launch price of $.99 cents before it goes up.

So, if any of you have friends and family who like ancient history and historical fantasy/horror, please do spread the word!

I’ve really enjoyed writing this book and interlacing the supernatural themes and beliefs of LYKOI with the historical events of the Varus disaster. Also, getting deeper into the minds of the scarred characters has truly been a fascinating and melancholy experience.

I’m currently writing Carpathian Interlude Part III, the working title of which is ‘THANATOS’.

This story is going to get even darker and delve into some very ancient myths around Zoroastrianism and the origins of Mithras. We will also find out who this Carpathian Lord actually is – and you won’t expect it!

Most importantly, I’d like to thank many of you for your support, encouragement and comments, the many personal e-mails, and your help in spreading the word about the series across social media. It all means a great deal, and the series’ success would not be possible without you.

So, thank you once more, and Happy Reading!

October 2, 2014 by AdamAH

Historical Horror – The Carpathian Interlude Series

Summer is dead, it’s golden sun-splashed days relegated to the realm of distant memory.

I’ve been writing a lot, focussing on Eagles and Dragons Book III – Warriors of Epona. The first draft of that book is finished and, like idyllic, warm summer hours, it will now be set aside for a while.

October has arrived and, as is usual, my thoughts have turned dark. What else can you expect from the month in which the trees shed shrivelled leaves, the month in which our ancestors believed the dead walk among us?

It should come as no surprise then that I am now drawn back into the Carpathian Interlude.

Part II of the series is called LYKOI (pronounced ‘LEE-kee’), and it will soon be ready for release. LYKOI promises to take the reader to a dark, horror-filled place that would fill any Roman legionary with fear.

In the ancient world, men of war could be especially superstitious. When major disasters or defeats would occur, many would seek explanations that our modern minds might see as supernatural.

Fear of foreign gods and darker powers beyond the realm of their knowledge was not uncommon. When you control the greatest army the world has ever seen, and you experience a crushing defeat, you naturally look for an explanation.

It is precisely this fear and superstition that inspired me to write the Carpathian Interlude series which, from the larger perspective of the Empire, revolves around one particular event – the Varus Disaster. I’ll talk about that event next week.

Writing historical horror has allowed me to do something different with historical fantasy. It has allowed me to experiment a little, to explore different types of character trauma and beliefs. It’s a nice change of pace and an opportunity for me, as a writer, to dip into some darker themes.

In IMMORTUI, the first part of the Carpathian Interlude, Gaius Justus Vitalis and his men head into the Carpathian Mountains in search of their comrades who were on a patrol north of the Danube frontier. There they meet an enemy unlike any other they’ve ever met – Zombies.

In LYKOI, Gaius Justus Vitalis and his group of ‘broken’ warriors are ordered to investigate the massacre of thousands of Romans in Germania. But this time, it’s not the undead that Gaius and his men must face.

If you like Werewolves, this is a story you won’t want to miss.

So, when will LYKOI be released?

October 25^th, 2014 is the official launch day for this book – something new to add to the Halloween reading list!

For now, I’m very pleased to unveil the cover for LYKOI – Carpathian Interlude Part II…

Many thanks once again to Laura at LLPIX Photography for putting together a suitably-dark cover.

I hope you like it.

For my Newsletter subscribers, stay tuned for a separate e-mail soon with a special offer just for you. Thank you to all of you for your interest and support. You make the Eagles and Dragons Legion strong!

So, off we go on another journey into the past. Be sure to keep your faith and your gladius close, my friends. You’re going to need them.