Roman religion

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The World of Sincerity is a Goddess – Part VII – Doctors in the Roman Empire

Salvete Readers and Romanophiles!

Welcome back to The World of Sincerity is a Goddess, the blog series in which we delve into the research that went into the dramatic and romantic comedy of ancient Rome, Sincerity is a Goddess.

If you missed Part VI on the theatre and healing sanctuary of ancient Epidaurus, you can read that by clicking HERE.

Today, in Part VII of this blog series, we’re going to be sticking with the healing theme, only this time from the Roman perspective rather than from the Greek one, though they are related.

In this post, we’re going to be taking a look at doctors in the Roman Empire, as well as that famed centre of healing in the heart of ancient Rome, Tiber Island.

A doctor making a house call.

Going to the doctor’s office is never something one looks forward to.

For most, myself included, it gets the heart rate and stress levels up to step into a building that’s full of ‘sick people’. With our modern plague, I’m sure many of us are feeling that.

Sitting around in a waiting room with a group of scared, nervous, fidgety folks, is enough to drive you mad, and the sight of a white coat and stethoscope makes one want to run screaming from the building.

In a way, it was probably the same for our ancient Greek and Roman ancestors. Most civilians would have been loath to visit with a physician. It might not have been someone you wanted around, unless absolutely necessary.

When it comes to physicians in the Roman Empire, it has to be said that many, if not most, were Greek, and that’s because Greece was where western medicine was born. Indeed, the ancient Greeks had patron gods of health and healing in the form of Asklepios, Igeia, and sometimes Apollo.

Artist rendering of the Asklepion of Kos

The greatest medical school of the ancient world was in fact on the Aegean island of Cos, where students came from all over the Mediterranean world to learn at the great Asklepion. Hippocrates, the 5th century B.C. ‘father of medicine’, was from Cos and said to be a descendant of the god Asklepios himself.

When it comes to Roman medicine, much of it is owed to what discoveries and theories the Greeks had developed before, but with a definite Roman twist.

Hippocrates

The fusion of Greek and Roman medicine in the Roman Empire consisted of two parts: the scientific, and the religious/magical.

The more scientific thinking behind ancient medical practices is a legacy owed to the Greeks, who separated scientific learning from religion. The religious, or rather superstitious, aspects of medicine in the Roman Empire were a Roman introduction.

Because of this fusion of ideas and beliefs, you could sometimes end up with an odd assortment of treatments being prescribed.

A Roman physician blood letting (by Robert Thom, c. 1958)

To alleviate your anxiety over your new business venture, you should take three drops of this tincture before you sleep. You should also sacrifice a white goat to Janus as soon as possible.

Many Roman deities had some form of healing power so it depended on one’s patron gods, and the nature of the problem, as to which god would receive prayers or votive offerings over another. Amulets and other magical incantations would have been employed as well.

Roman surgical instruments

Romans had a god for everything, and soldiers were especially superstitious.

Much of Greek medical thought opted for practicality in the treatment of wounds, and injuries; cleaning and bandaging wounds would have been more logical than putting another talisman about the neck. That said, let us not forget the aspect if divine intervention when it came to some aspects of healing in such places as Epidaurus.

All the gods were to be honoured, but in the Greek physician’s mind they had much better things to look after than the stab wound a man received in a tavern brawl.

Battlefield medics treating wounded soldiers on Trajan’s Column

For the battlefield medicus, things must have been much simpler than for the physician who was trying to diagnose mysterious ailments for someone in the heart of Rome. They were faced mostly with physical wounds and employed all manner of surgical instruments such as probes, hooks, forceps, needles and scalpels.

Removing a barbed arrowhead from a warrior’s thigh must have required a little digging.

Of course, in the Roman world, there was no anaesthetic, so successful surgeons would have had to have been not only dexterous and accurate, but also very fast and strong. Luckily, sedatives such as opium and henbane would have helped.

Medic helping a warrior tend a wound

When it came to the treatment of wounds, a medicus would have used wine, vinegar, pitch, and turpentine as antiseptics. However, infection and gangrene would have meant amputation. The latter was probably terrifyingly frequent for soldiers, many of whom would end up begging on the streets of Rome.

It is interesting to note that medicine was one of the few professions that were open to women in the Roman Empire. Female doctors, or medicae, would also have been mainly of Greek origin, and either working with male doctors, or as midwives specializing in childbirth and women’s diseases and disorders. When it came to the army however, most doctors would have been male.

Ancient surgical instruments, including forceps

Army surgeons played a key role in spreading and improving Roman medical practice, especially in the treatment of wounds and other injuries. They also helped to gather new treatments from all over the Empire, and disseminated medical knowledge wherever the legions marched. Many of the herbs and drugs that were used in the Empire were acquired by medics who were on campaign in foreign lands.

Early on, physicians did not enjoy high status. There was no standardized training and many were Greek slaves or freedmen. This began to improve, however, when in 46 B.C. Julius Caesar granted citizenship to all those doctors who were working in the city of Rome.

This last point really hits home when it has become common knowledge that foreign doctors who come to our own countries today find themselves driving taxis or buses because they are not allowed to practice.

Modern governments, take your cue from Caesar!

Galen

One of the most famous physicians of the Roman Empire is Galen of Pergamon (A.D. 129-c.199). Galen was a Greek physician and writer who was educated at the sanctuary of Asklepios at Pergamon in Asia Minor.

After working in various cities around the Empire, Galen returned to his home town to become the doctor at the local ludus, or gladiatorial school. He grew tired of that work and moved to Rome in A.D. 162 where he gained a reputation among the elite. He subsequently became the personal physician of the Emperors Marcus Aurelius, Commodus, and for a short time, Septimius Severus.

Galen’s work and writings provided the basis of medical teaching and practice on into the seventeenth century. No doubt many an army medicus referred to Galen’s work at one point or another.

Galen is also an important character in A Dragon among the Eagles, the prequel in the Eagles and Dragon series. In the book, Galen, an old friend and colleague of Lucius Metellus’ late tutor, presents Lucius with a choice that could well change the direction of Lucius’ life. In fact and fiction, Galen is a fascinating person of history.

Re-created ancient surgical instruments

There was, of course, a difference between medical procedures that were frequently carried out on civilians in Rome versus what was needed on the battlefields of the Empire.

I’m not an expert in ancient medical history, but I do know that the level of injury on an ancient battlefield would have been staggering. The sight or sound of your unit’s medicus would have been something sent from the gods themselves.

Imagine a clash of armies – thousands of men wielding swords, spears and daggers at close quarters. Then lob some volleys of arrows into the chaos. Perhaps a charge of heavy cavalry? How about heavy artillery bolts or boulders slamming into massed ranks of men?

Roman Legionaries (illustrated by Peter Dennis)

It would have been one big, bloody, savage mess.

Apart from the usual cuts, slashes, and puncture wounds, the warriors would have suffered shattered bones, fractured skulls, lost limbs, severed arteries, sword, spear and arrow shafts that pushed through armour on into organs.

If you weren’t dead right away, you most likely would have been a short time later.

This is where the ancient field medic could have made the difference for an army. He would have been going through numerous patients in a short period of time. He would have had to decide who was a lost cause, who could no longer fight, and who could be patched up before being sent back out onto the field of slaughter.

The medicus of a Roman legion was an unsung hero whose skill was a product of accumulated centuries of knowledge, study, and experience.

Model showing Tiber Island

When it came to ancient Rome, the centre of health and healing was Tiber Island, and its foundation has a most fascinating story…

Tiber Island is a boat-shaped mass in the middle of the River Tiber where it runs through Rome. It was connected to the Field of Mars by the Pons Fabricius, and to the right bank, where modern Trastevere is, by the Pons Cestius.

The legend goes that the island was formed when, after the fall of the Etruscan tyrant, Tarquinius Superbus, in 510 B.C., the angry Romans threw his body into the Tiber where silt subsequently formed around it.

Another legend is that after the same tyrant died, the people hated him so much that they took all of his grain stores and threw it all into the river where it became the island.

Sic semper tyrannis, as the Romans would say…

Tarquinius Superbus

Whatever the reason for the creation of Tiber Island, it seems that it was, early on, a place to be avoided as it was where criminals and the terminally ill were sent.

The story gets very interesting in 293 B.C. when a great plague hit Rome.

When the plague arrived, the Senate consulted the Sibyl, the Oracle of Apollo at Cumae, who told the Romans that they should build a temple to Aesculapius (Asklepios in Greek) in the city of Rome.

A delegation of Romans was sent to Epidaurus where Aesculapius’ most famous sanctuary was located, so that they could obtain a statue of the god for the proposed temple.

The delegation also obtained one of the sacred snakes from Epidaurus.

Aesculapian Snake – zemenis longissimus (Wikimedia Commons)

The story goes that as soon as the delegation returned to their ship with the statue and sacred serpent, the snake immediately curled itself about the main mast for the return journey to Rome. They took this as a good omen.

When the ship sailed down the Tiber and entered the city of Rome, the snake moved, slithered off of the ship into the water, and swam to Tiber Island where it settled itself.

The Romans took it as a sign that this was where they should build the temple of Aesculapius.

Since that time, Tiber Island has been identified with that ship, and even modelled to resemble it with travertine facing forming it to look like a ship’s prow and stern in the first century B.C., and an enormous obelisk erected to represent the mast of the ship that brought the statue and sacred serpent to Rome from Greece.

One can still see the carving of Aesculapius’ rod and serpent on the ship’s prow to this day!

Carving of the serpent and rod on the ‘prow’ of Tiber Island

In time, other shrines were built on Tiber Island such as to Jupiter Jurarius (Guarantor of Oaths), Semo Sancus Dius Fidius (Witness of Oaths), Faunus (the spirit of Boundaries), Vediovis (God of Healing), Tiberinus (the River God), and to Bellona (Goddess of War).

There was also a festival of Aesculapius and Vediovis every year on the first of January.

Just as it is today, good health was important to the Romans!

Statue of Aesculapius (Asklepios)

With the establishment of the sanctuary of Aesculapius on Tiber Island, the healing practices of Epidaurus were brought to Rome, including the use of the sacred snakes which were, it is believed, the species known as zemenis longissimus, a non-venomous serpent that could grow up to two meters in length.

The doctors also employed the use of sacred dogs whose licks were said to be healing for some patients. It is not surprising, I suppose, considering that some dogs can sniff out cancer, or restore circulation to injured limbs through licking.

Do the practices of the doctors of Tiber Island actually work in the story of Sincerity is a Goddess? Well, you have to read the book to find out. There is, we can say with certainty, a bit with a dog, a doctor with some interesting prescriptions, healing dreams, votive offerings, and a connection between Rome and ancient Epidaurus that is certainly felt on a deep level.

Votive fingurine of a ‘healing dog’ (Museum of Wales)

I’ve but barely scratched the vast surface on this topic.

For some, there is this assumption that ancient medicine was somehow false, crude and barbaric. But modern western medicine owes much to the Greeks and Romans, civilian and military, who travelled the Empire caring for their troops and gathering what knowledge and knowhow they could.

The fusion of science, religious practice, and magic provides for a fascinating mix. In truth, medical practices in medieval Europe were more barbaric than in the ancient world.

We owe much to the followers of Aesculapius and the traditions that flowed from ancient Epidaurus to the heart of Rome where there is still a working hospital on Tiber Island.

Thank you for reading.

Sincerity is a Goddess is now available in hardcover, paperback, and ebook from all major online retailers, independent bookstores, brick and mortal chains, and your local public library.

CLICK HERE to buy a copy and get ISBN#s information for the edition of your choice.

 

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Ancient Everyday: Celebrating Birthdays in Ancient Rome

Salvete Romanophiles!

After a long hiatus from this blog series, we’re finally back with a new Ancient Everyday post!

As my own birthday approaches, I thought it would be fun to explore this topic on the blog. So, we’re going to be taking a brief look at how they celebrated birthdays in ancient Rome!

Let’s party!

Roman dinner party

The celebration of birthdays was different in ancient Greece compared to the world of Rome. In ancient Greece, the individual’s birthday was not celebrated so much as the monthly birthday of the various gods the Greeks worshipped. Even today in Greece, the celebration of ‘name days’, that is, the saints’ days, is more widespread.

People may forget a birthday, but everyone remembers a name day!

However, apart from the religious connection, the celebration of birthdays in ancient Rome was quite different to that in ancient Greece.

So, what about birthdays in ancient Rome? Did they celebrate them?

The short answer is, ‘yes’, they did.

Birthdays, or dies natales, were indeed important celebrations.

But how did they celebrate? What did they do to celebrate? Did they give gifts?

The Roman Forum (by Becchetti)

In ancient Rome there were, in fact, two types of birthday celebrations: public and private.

Public birthdays were celebrations in honour of particular gods or the founding of temples or cults dedicated to those gods. There were also celebrations of the birthdays of cities.

For the present, though I believe everything finds its way to you in the letters of your friends, or even by messengers and rumour, yet I will write briefly what I think you would like to learn from my letters above all others. On the 4th of August I started from Dyrrachium, the very day on which the law about me was carried. I arrived at Brundisium on the 5th of August. There my dear Tulliola met me on what was her own birthday, which happened also to be the name-day of the colony of Brundisium and of the temple of Salus, near your house. This coincidence was noticed and celebrated with warm congratulations by the citizens of Brundisium.

(Cicero, Letter LXXXIX (a iv,1) To Atticus) 

The above quote from Cicero’s letter to his friend, Atticus, is said to be one of the earliest known mentions of the natales of cities and temples, in this case the celebration of the Roman temple of Salus, the Goddess of Safety and Welfare, and the city of Brundisium, both of which are celebrated on the exact same day as his own daughter’s birthday.

We will talk about private birthdays shortly, but it is important to note that because Roman religion had so many deities, genii and numina (spirits) etc. to be honoured, it was common to have one’s private birthday on the same days as those public birthdays.

Some examples of major public birthdays included the Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, the birthday of the Unconquerable Sun, around December the 25th, and the Dies Natalis Urbis Romae, the birthday of the founding of the city of Rome, on April the 21st, an event which is still celebrated today as the Natale di Roma with a parade, games and other events.

Natale di Roma parade (photo: Giampiero Giustarini)

In 2022, Rome will be celebrating its 2775th birthday. Happy Birthday Roma!

During the Principate, or the imperial period, another form of public birthday was the annual celebration of the birthdays of emperors and imperial family members, past and present. During these celebrations, the public made offerings and carried out rituals to commemorate their imperial overlords, or the days of their accession to the throne. The latter celebrations were known as the natales imperii.

Relief of Emperor Hadrian being greeted by the Goddess Roma and Genii of the Senate

Come, let pious Rome mark the birthday of eloquent Restitutus: Let every tongue be reverent; let all prayers be favourable. We are performing birthday rites; let litigation cease.

(Martial, Epigrams 10.87.1-4)

Unlike today, it seems that religion and birthdays were inevitably linked in the world of ancient Rome. Individuals, and their celebrants, commemorated the anniversary of the religious cult or genius with which their birthday was associated.

Good Genius, take the incense willingly, and willingly grant his prayers, so long as he burns when he thinks of me. But if by any chance he now sighs over another love, then, holy one, desert the faithless altar, I pray.

(Albius Tibullus,  4.5.9-12)

It really was an interesting commingling of religion and celebration.

But what about private birthday celebrations? Were they very different from today?

In some ways yes, and in other ways not so much.

Obviously, for most people today, religious rituals, such as those described above, are absent from the average birthday celebration.

However, when it came to the private birthday celebrations of men and women, family members and friends, there are some things which we have in common with the Romans.

A Cake for an Emperor!
(This is an actual cake created by talented Athenian artist Anne Maria Papadeli. Check out her work on Instagram @anne_marie_papadeli )

In ancient Rome, especially among the wealthy, those for whom we have sources, banquets were held and gifts were given. The Roman playwright, Terence, even describes how costly gift-giving could be! The servant, Davus, speaks:

Geta, my very good friend and fellow-townsman, came to me yesterday. There had been for some time a trifling balance of money of his in my hands upon a small account; he asked me to make it up. I have done so, and am carrying it to him. But I hear that his master’s son has taken a wife; this, I suppose, is scraped together as a present for her. How unfair a custom!—that those who have the least should always be giving something to the more wealthy! That which the poor wretch has with difficulty spared, ounce by ounce, out of his allowance, defrauding himself of every indulgence, the whole of it will she carry off, without thinking with how much labor it has been acquired. And then besides, Geta will be struck for another present when his mistress is brought to bed; and then again for another present, when the child’s birthday comes; when they initiate him, too: all this the mother will carry off; the child will only be the pretext for the present.

(Terence, Phormio, Act I, Scene I)

There were likely a wide range of gifts, depending on the class and financial status of the individuals in question. This would have been a similar situation to Saturnalia and the giving of sigillaria during those ‘best of days’ in the Roman calendar.

Private birthdays in ancient Rome, it seems, could be quite as important to individuals, and those who cared for them, as they are today. Perhaps even more so because of the religious connection. The Gods were watching!

Here is a wonderful quote from the poet, Sextus Propertius, who wrote a love poem describing his hopes for the birthday of the object of his love and affection, Cynthia:

I wondered what the Muses had sent me, at dawn, standing by my bed in the reddening sunlight. They sent a sign it was my girl’s birthday, and clapped their hands three times for luck. Let this day pass without a cloud, let winds still in the air, threatening waves fall gently on dry land. Let me see no one sad today: let Niobe’s rock itself suppress its tears. Let the halcyons’ cries be silent, leaving off their sighing, and Itys’s mother not call out his loss.

And oh, you, my dearest girl, born to happy auguries, rise, and pray to the gods who require their dues. First wash sleep away with pure water, and dress your shining hair with deft fingers. Then wear those clothes that first charmed Propertius’ eyes, and never let your brow be free of flowers.

And ask that the beauty that is your power may always be yours, and your command over my person might last forever. Then when you’ve worshipped with incense at wreathed altars, and their happy flames have lit the whole house, think of a feast, and let the night fly by with wine, and let the perfumed onyx anoint my nostril with oil of saffron. Submit the strident flute to nocturnal dancing, and let your wantonness be free with words, and let sweet banqueting stave off unwelcome sleep, and the common breeze of the neighbouring street be full of the sound.

And let fate reveal to us, in the falling dice, those whom the Boy strikes with his heavy wings. When the hours have gone with many a glass, and Venus appoints the sacred rites that wait on night, let’s fulfil the year’s solemnities in our room, and so complete the journey of your natal day.

(Sextus Propertius, Elegies, Book III.10:1-32, Cynthia’s Birthday, trans. A.S. Kline)

Was Cynthia amused?

In fact, birthday poems, such as Propertius’ above, was a particular genre that emerged. Here is another example by Martial that speaks to the giving of gifts:

Let the hunter bring the hare, the farmer a young goat, the fisherman the spoils of the sea. if each one sends what he has, Restitutus, what do you think a poet with send to you?

(Martial, Epigrams, 10.87.17-20)

When it came to private birthdays, people celebrated with family and friends, and lovers.

They also celebrated the birthdays of their patrons, if they had any, and one such example comes to light in the form of a small ‘book’ that was given by the grammarian, Censorinus, to his patron, Quintus Caerellius, on the day of his birthday, c. A.D. 238.

But while other men honour only their own birthdays, yet I am bound every year by a double duty as regards this religious observance; for since it is from you and your friendship that I receive esteem, position, honour, and assistance, and in fact all the rewards of life, I consider it a sin if I celebrate your day, which brought you forth into this world for me, any less carefully than my own. For my own birthday gave me life, but yours has brought me the enjoyment and the rewards of life.

(Censorinus, De Die Natali 3.5-6)

It seems that one gave what one could, or was expert at, as birthday gifts.

However, though we know quite clearly that Romans celebrated birthdays, little is known of the actual practices on birthdays. What we do know is that birthdays were celebrated, gifts were given, and religious offerings were made in the household and at temples and shrines.

A sacrifice portrayed on a lararium, or family shrine, in Pompeii

Banquets or parties were also held. The same as today, various foods, cakes, and wine were also consumed as part of birthday celebrations.

Perhaps one of the most wonderful examples we have of a birthday celebration is from one of the Vindolanda tablets, found along Hadrian’s Wall, which is actually a most sincere birthday party invitation from one woman to another:

Vindolanda Tablet. 291. Birthday Invitation of Sulpicia Lepidina, (romaninscriptionsofbritain.org)

Claudia Severa to her Lepidina greetings. On 11 September, sister, for the day of the celebration of my birthday, I give you a warm invitation to make sure that you come to us, to make the day more enjoyable for me by your arrival, if you are present. Give my greetings to your Cerialis. My Aelius and my little son send him their greetings. I shall expect you, sister. Farewell, sister, my dearest soul, as I hope to prosper, and hail.

(Vindolanda tablet #291, Birthday Invitation of Sulpicia Lepidina)

This artifact gives us a tantalizing and intimate look at the the role of birthdays in ancient Rome, or in this case, at the very edge of the Empire.

Perhaps the most interesting aspect of birthdays in ancient Rome, however, is the almost symbiotic relationship between religion and the celebration of birthdays.

The following is a beautiful quote from Ovid in which the poet describes his own birthday celebration with the pious offering of cakes and prayers.

Thou awaitest, I suppose, thine honour in its wonted guise: a white robe hanging from my shoulders, a smoking altar garlanded with chaplets, the grains of incense snapping in the holy fire, and myself offering the cakes that mark my birthday and framing kindly petitions with pious lips.

(Ovid, Tristia 3.13)

In the world of ancient Rome, celebrating one’s own, or someone else’s birthday was not just about receiving visitors and gifts, or giving gifts and partying with friends at an excellent convivium.

To celebrate one’s birthday, or the birthday of someone else, was also the undertaking of a religious obligation that was to be expressed every year, through rituals and offerings.

Birthday rituals emphasized piety and sincerity, acknowledged the genius or god of that day, and they affirmed the bond between the person whose birthday it was, and those who cared for them.

That was a beautiful thing.

Thank you for reading.

 

*If you would like to read more posts in our very popular Ancient Everyday blog series, CLICK HERE for a list!

**For a more in depth article on the subject check out Birthday Rituals: Friends and Patrons in Roman Poetry and Cult by Kathryn Argetsinger.

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Religious Rites in Ancient Rome

As some of you may know, I find Roman religion utterly fascinating. I find the customizable nature of Roman religious beliefs very interesting in that people were not bound to a particular god or goddess. Indeed, there was a different god or goddess for almost every aspect of life, and as Rome conquered new lands, new deities and traditions were added into the mix.

In some ways, Roman religion was as diverse as Roman society.

In the last blog post, we took a look at the various types of spirits, or numina, that existed in Roman religion. If you missed that post, you can read it by CLICKING HERE.

We know that there were many kinds of spirits, and various gods and goddesses that were worshiped by Romans, but what form did that worship take? Were there different ways of honouring and conversing with the gods?

In this post, we’re going to be taking a look at the various religious rites in Roman religion.

Artist impression of temple of Mars Ultor (the ‘Avenger’)

Roman religion itself was more cult-based. It involved the worship of a god, goddess or hero with specific rituals that were observed in order to win the gods’ favour.

This was more of a symbiont relationship, as it was believed that not only did mortals need the gods, but also that the gods needed mortal acknowledgment. 

As mostly spirits of natural forces (ex. lighting, or the sea), the gods needed to be propitiated, kept friendly toward their mortal worshippers. This was done more through observing the proper rites than through piety or good behaviour.

The cult ceremonies performed by mortals to honour gods, goddesses, or heroes were a sort of ‘contract’ between mortal and immortal.

Let’s take a brief look at the various types of religious rites or ceremonies that were carried out by ancient Romans.

The Council of the Gods by Raphael, c.1517, Villa Farnesina, Rome

The first type of rite is one that is common to all religions, and that is prayer.

Prayers in ancient Roman religion did not always have a set text that had to be spoken, such as the Lord’s Prayer or a Hail Mary in Christianity. A Roman prayer really depended on the person offering it, and what that person needed. 

As part of prayers, a worshipper offered to give something to the god, or to do something for the god (ex. build an altar). This was done with no expectation. It was a gift.

Prayers tried to cover eventualities.

A sacrifice portrayed on a lararium, or family shrine, in Pompeii

Vows were similar to prayers in that the worshipper offered to do or give something to a god, but in this instance, it was only in return for something from the immortal.

Not only did individuals make vows, but the state could also make a vow, such as if the gods helped to avert a crisis or disaster. It was common for vows to be recorded on votive tablets and left in temples as a record of the vow. With vows, there was a sort of two-way accountability. 

The fulfillment of a vow often involved setting up an altar, or leaving a gift at a temple or shrine.

The vow was referred to as a nuncupatio and the fulfillment as the solutio. For the particular gift that was created or offered, it was referred to as ex voto, that is ‘in fulfillment of a vow’.

Altar to Jupiter dating to 2nd–3rd century AD. – Inscription: Dedicated by L. Lollius Clarus for himself and his family (Wikiwand)

When it comes to Roman religious rites, the one that most people today probably think of is the sacrifice.

Sacrifices were a gift to the gods, heroes, and to the dead. They were carried out publicly or privately, and there were many different ways of performing them.

Sometimes, food and drink were shared between mortals and immortals at a feast. However, sometimes, in sacrifice, all the food was burned on the fire for the gods. These types of sacrifices could consist of cakes, wine, incense, oil, honey and various animals (blood sacrifices).

There is little evidence for human sacrifice in Roman religion except in an extreme example after the battle of Cannae (216 B.C.), when Rome experienced one of her worst military defeats ever during the second Punic War against Hannibal. The sacrifice that took place after the battle involved the burying of two Greeks and two Gauls in the forum Boarium in Rome.

There were a few categories of sacrifice in Roman religion, with various motives for each. These are evidenced mostly by inscriptions on altars. The motive could be the fulfillment of a vow (perhaps the most common), a thank offering, or the expectation of a favour from the gods. Other motives could included the result of some sort of divination, an anniversary (such as the founding of Rome on April 21), or a dedication.

Some sacrifices were considered to be instigated by the gods because of a dream or some other portent.

You can read more about the specifics of sacrifice, and how they were carried out in ancient Rome, by CLICKING HERE.

Relief of a Suovetaurilia ceremony

Another form of offering that was a part of Roman religious rites was the libation.

Libations were liquid offerings (also considered a sacrifice) to the gods that were poured on the ground. The most common was undiluted wine, but libations could also include milk, honey and even water. These were also offered to the dead at burials and later in ceremonies at the tombs of the deceased.

Another rite was the devotio. This was when a suppliant tried to gain the favour of the gods by offering their own life. This was, of course, less common.

The devotio was performed in times of desperation, such as by a general who was about to loose a battle, and so would offer his life during the battle if his forces should be victorious and avert disaster and shame. This was a ritual that was often performed for Tellus, the Earth Goddess, or the manes, the ‘spirits of the divine dead’.

The Goddess Tellus on the Ara Pacis in Rome

The rite known as the ver sacrum was performed at a time of great crisis. This usually involved the dedication of everything born in the Spring to a god, often to Jupiter himself.

As part of the ver sacrum, all such animals were sacrificed, but children born in the Spring were expelled from the country at the age of twenty to form a new community elsewhere. This rite was performed in 217 B.C. during the second Punic War.

German print of Hannibal, victorious against Rome at Cannae

A lustratio was another important rite in Roman religion. It was a sort of purification ceremony to protect against evil and give good luck. It involved a procession, an animal sacrifice, prayers and other sacrifices such as of food and incense.

An example of this was when a newborn child reached nine days of age and received his or her name. In this sense, the lustratio was similar to the Christian rite of baptism.

Those of you who have read the novel, Killing the Hydra, will remember the chapter in which a lustratio ceremony takes place at the legionary fortress of Lambaesis in Numidia.

Relief of Emperor Marcus Aurelius performing a sacrifice

Divination rites were also a major part of Roman religion.

These involved the reading of signs and omens to reveal the will of the gods. It was a way of predicting the future through things such as thunder, lightning, bird signs and other phenomena.

There were two types of divination. The first was natural divination which involved dream interpretation (such as when a sick person was made to sleep in the temple of Asclepius), or oracular prophecy by someone possessed by a god. In natural divination, the gods spoke directly to mortals.

Artificial divination, however, was based on the observance of plants and animals. It could involve augury, which was the art of reading bird signs, reading the entrails of a sacrifice, or even reading the throwing of dice or drawing of lots.

Specialized training was required to carry out these rites of divination, much of which was handed down by the Etruscans to the Romans.

Etruscan bronze liver that may have served as an instructional model for a haruspex (Wikimedia Commons)

Oracles were an important part form of natural divination, and though they were more popular in the world of ancient Greece, they did play a role in Roman religion.

The most famous oracles were the Pythia at Delphi, still consulted in Roman times, and the Cumaean Sibyl (whose cave is visited in the book Children of Apollo. The god Apollo, worshipped by both the Greeks and Romans, spoke through both of these important oracles. However, there were other gods who spoke to the Romans through oracles, such as Carmentis, a water goddess who was also a prophetic goddess of protection in childbirth, and Faunus, the Roman equivalent to Pan, who was a hunter and agricultural god. In his oracular nature, Faunus spoke to mortals in dreams and through sacred groves.

The Roman state consulted oracles less frequently than, say, the ancient Athenians or Spartans. However, the prophecies of the Cumaean Sibyl that were known as the Sibylline Books, were consulted in ancient Rome. These important prophecies were destroyed in a fire that consumed the temple of Jupiter where they were kept, and so a new compendium of the Sibylline Books was transferred to the temple of Apollo on the Palatine Hill, which was built by Augustus.

Oracles were tricky though, and because they became increasingly popular among the people of Rome in the early Empire, there was a growing sense of panic. For this reason, Augustus is said to have burned two thousand books of prophecies. Perhaps the emperor had a good point? Some of you may remember the Mayan Calendar and the Y2K panic? I wonder if Nostradamus’ prophecies said anything about our current COVID crisis? And what about Voldemort and his obsession with a prophecy in the Harry Potter series!

Let’s not think about it. Oracles, it seems, were a double-edged gladius.

Apollo and the Pythia who uttered his prophecies to mortals

The final sort of religious rite we’re going to take a look at is one that is still popular today.

Astrology came to Rome in the second century B.C. from Babylon and Egypt. At the time, it was very popular, and it was thought to be compatible with religion because the stars foretold the future, and that that future was the gods’ will.

At first, even Christians and Jews accepted astrology and the predictability of the planets and stars.

Most famously, Emperor Septimius Severus and Empress Julia Domna were big believers in the art of astrology, and they used astrologers on a regular basis. This part of their beliefs, and how it affected their rule, is explored in the Eagles and Dragons series. 

Looking to the to the stars for guidance…

I hope you’ve enjoyed this brief look at religious rites in ancient Rome. There are, of course, more aspects to the intricacies of Roman religious observance, and anyone with an interest in this subject is encouraged to read more, but also to look closely at the archaeological record, mainly the remains of altars and votive inscriptions, to learn more about the people who carried out these rites or commissioned them.

These rites were not only a way of honouring gods, goddesses, and heroes by the Romans. They were also a way to communicated directly with them, to interact with them, to be closer to them.

Thank you for reading.

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Numina Romana – Spirits in Roman Religion

In all of the many years I’ve been researching and writing about the world of ancient Rome, the topic of Roman religion has been a constant source of fascination for me as an author and historian. Many of my readers have echoed this sentiment too, pointed out that they love the inclusion of that aspect of Roman life.

You can read more about writing Roman religion HERE.

But what is it that fascinates us about Roman religious beliefs and practices?

For me, it is the openness and flexibility of Roman religion. Mortals had a closer, perhaps more symbiont, relationship with their gods. The religion was highly customizable.

But, like any other religion, there was a sort of evolution over time. Most religions today believe in a spirit realm, that spirits are present, and often they are menacing.

It was a little different in Roman religion. We are all familiar with the gods of the Roman pantheon – Jupiter, Juno, Minerva etc. – but what you may not know is that sprits of various kinds played a central role in Roman religious beliefs and practices.

In this short post, we’re going to be taking a look at the various kinds of spirits that Romans believed in.

In the world of ancient Rome, spirits were known as numina (sing. numen). These were divine spirits or powers that were present everywhere in life, people, and places. They were not anthropomorphic at first.

Originally, Romans may have believed that a numen was a place itself, such as a wood, river, spring, or cave etc., and that that place was supernatural or divine.

Gradually, however, with the influence of Greek religion, Romans came to believe that these places were inhabited or protected by these numina or spirits. Eventually, these numina were given names and traits. In many instances they began to take form.

Illustration of a statue of Sancus found in the Sabine’s shrine on the Quirinal (Wikimedia Commons)

Numina were present in material things such as crops, but also in actions such as travel.

These spirits could also inhabit more abstract ideas such as Discipline (the Goddess Disciplina), Virtue (the Goddess Pietas), or Trust and Honesty (the God Sancus). Even the living emperor, his role as such, had a numen that was worshipped by the people.

Truth be told, there are myriad numina in Roman religion, and most of them were nameless. Most Romans honoured the numen or numina that were related to their home or occupation.

But what were the various types of spirits or numina whom Romans believed in?

Let us go through the most prominent ones…

Bronze genius depicted as paterfamilias (1st century AD) Wikimedia Commons

In addition to the main gods, goddesses and heroes who were worshipped in ancient Rome, there were many types of numina:

The Genii (sing. Genius) literally mean the ‘begetter’. Early on, this was a man’s guardian spirit who helped him to beget children. This spirit was honoured on the birthday of the paterfamilias, the man in whom it lived.

The genius was symbolized by the snake which was a protective symbol of household protectors.

Over time, people and places came to have genii. For example, the spirit of a place was the genius loci, and if one was in a place where one did not know whom to worship or make offerings to, one would pray to the genius loci of that particular place.

Lararium in the House of the Vettii, Pompeii. It depicts the ancestral genius (upper centre) flanked by the Lares, with a serpent below. (Wikimedia Commons)

The next group of spirits we’re going to look at are the Lares (sing. Lar).

These were very important numina in the world of ancient Rome. The Lares were ancient and mysterious spirits whose original character is unknown. It is thought that early on, they were guardians of farmland.

The Lares evolved into protective household gods. Every household, however grand or simple, had them. They were worshipped at what was called a lararium, a shrine dedicated to them, and prayers to the Lares were led by the paterfamilias.

These numina were worshipped on the Kalends (first day), the Nones (ninth day), and the Ides (fifteenth day) of every month.

There were also Lares of other less personal places such as neighbourhoods (Lares Compitales), and cities (Lares Publici or Lares Praestites). In Rome, the Lares Praestites had a temple at the beginning of the Via Sacra. 

The Lares Compitales were worshipped on the festival of Compitalia, a Roman agricultural festival, perhaps alluding to their rural roots. The Lares in general had their festival at Rome on December 22.

Offerings of food to the Penates were burned on the domus hearth fire

Another group of spirits who went hand in hand with the Lares were known as Di Penates. These were also protective spirits of the household, but more specifically the pantry.

At every meal, a portion of the food was set aside for the Penates, and this was offered to them on the hearth fire. Salt and fruit was always left on the table for them.

The festival of the Penates was held on October 14.

Di Penates were also not limited to a household, the same as the Lares. The Penates Publici were attached to the Roman state and were worshipped alongside Vesta, Goddess of the Hearth, in her temple.

Honouring dead family members

Now we move into the realm of the remembrance and honouring of the spirits of the dead.

The Manes, the Roman spirits of the divine dead, were a group that Romans took very seriously.

The dead were to be respected, remembered and honoured in ancient Rome, and there were several festivals at which this was done: Feralia, Parentalia, and Lemuria.

The belief was that every dead person, no matter the age or gender, had its own spirit, and that spirit was known as a manes (yes, plural and singular forms are the same here).

The Manes were mainly honoured as the Manes Familiae, or more commonly as Di Parentes, the ‘Dead of the Family’.

“To the spirits of the dead: For Cornelia Frontina, who lived 16 years and 7 months, her father, Marcus Ulpius Callistus, freedman of the emperor, overseer in the armory of the Ludus Magnus, and Flavia Nice, his most virtuous wife, set up this [monument] for themselves, their freedmen and freedwomen, and their descendants.”

Graves were also important, and to be respected, as is evidenced by the many memorials and monuments that line the roads leading into Rome, or that dot the grounds of many ancient necropoli. Graves were considered dis manibus sacrum, ‘sacred to the divine dead’, and this was inscribed on monuments. Later, individuals were named in grave dedications that sometimes told their stories.

Ancestor worship was a part of honouring the Manes, and they were remembered in households by the imagines which were wax masks or busts of the deceased. It is believed this was the case because the Romans believed that the life source was in the head, and not the heart.

Imagines later became works of art to decorate homes, but the old religious significance never really disappeared.

Romulus and Remus upon an altar dedicated to Mars and Venus (from Ostia)

The spirits of the dead were not always entities whose remembrance gave comfort to the living. There was another group of spirits who were to be dreaded and propitiated: Lemures.

Lemures were spirits of the dead of a household, or place, who haunted the domus or location, those who had been violently murdered or met an untimely end. These numina were hostile, and often the Lemures of children were feared the most.

They were of a very different character to the Manes Familiae.

The poet Ovid, in his Fasti, relates a story on the origins of Lemures and the festival of Lemuria:

Why the day was called Lemuria, and what is the origin of the name, escapes me; it is for some god to discover it. Son of the Pleiad, thou reverend master of the puissant wand, inform me: oft hast thou seen the palace of the Stygian Jove. At my prayer the Bearer of the Herald’s Staff (Caducifer) was come. Learn the cause of the name; the god himself made it known. When Romulus had buried his brother’s ghost in the grave, and the obsequies had been paid to the too nimble Remus, unhappy Faustulus and Acca, with streaming hair, sprinkled the burnt bones with their tears. Then at twilight’s fall they sadly took the homeward way, and flung themselves on their hard couch, just as it was. The gory ghost of Remus seemed to stand at the bedside and to speak these words in a faint murmur: “Look on me, who shared the half, the full half of your tender care, behold what I am come to, and what I was of late! A little while ago I might have been the foremost of my people, if but the birds had assigned the throne to me. Now I am an empty wraith, escaped from the flames of the pyre; that is all that remains of the once great Remus. Alas, where is my father Mars? If only you spoke the truth, and it was he who sent the wild beast’s dugs to suckle the abandoned babes. A citizen’s rash hand undid him whom the she-wolf saved; O how far more merciful was she! Ferocious Celer, mayest thou yield up thy cruel soul through wounds, and pass like me all bloody underneath the earth! My brother willed not this: his love’s a match for mine: he let fall upon my death – ‘twas all he could – his tears. Pray him by your tears, by your fosterage, that he would celebrate a day by signal honour done to me.” As the ghost gave this charge, they yearned to embrace him and stretched forth their arms; the slippery shade escaped the clasping hands. When the vision fled and carried slumber with it, the pair reported to the king his brother’s words. Romulus complied, and gave the name Remuria to the day on which due worship is paid to buried ancestors. In the course of ages the rough letter, which stood at the beginning of the name, was changed into the smooth; and soon the souls of the silent multitude were also called Lemures: that is the meaning of the word, that is the force of the expression. But the ancients shut the temples on these days, as even now you see them closed at the season sacred to the dead. The times are unsuitable for the marriage both of a widow and a maid: she who marries then, will not live long. For the same reason, if you give weight to proverbs, the people say bad women wed in May. But these three festivals fall about the same time, though not on three consecutive days.

(Ovid, Fasti, Book V; trans. James G. Frazer)

It is quite a moving beginning the tradition. As relayed by Ovid, the festival of Lemuria did not fall on three consecutive days, but was celebrated on May 9th, 11th, and 13th.

Les Parques (The Parcae, ca. 1885) by Alfred Agache

There were other numina or spirits that took on a more divine nature in Roman religion.

The Fata (Fates) or the Parcae, were the powers of Destiny, and they were known by the names Nona, Decima and Morta.

Originally, the Parcae, believed to have been influenced by a triad of Celtic goddesses, may have been birth goddesses, but this role evolved into something more all-encompassing.

One could not escape the Parcae, or rather, Fate.

Similarly, one could also not escape the Furies.

The Remorse of Orestes, where he is surrounded by the Erinyes, by William-Adolphe Bouguereau, 1862

Influenced by Greek beliefs, the Furiae were goddesses of terror to the Romans, similar to the Greek Erinyes.

The Furiae were female spirits who carried out the vengeance of the Gods on mortals. If you’ve read Saturnalia, these anima will be familiar to you.

These numina carried out their duties on Earth as well as in the Underworld. They were everywhere and could not be escaped from. Traditionally, there were three Furiae: Tisiphone, Megara, and Alecto. Roman tradition also sometimes included two more: Adrasta and of course, Nemesis.

Whoever you were, and whatever you had done, the Furiae were to be respected and feared.

Hylas and the Nymphs by Waterhouse (1896)

Lastly, we come to perhaps one of the most well-known groups of numina in Greek and Roman religion: the Nymphs.

The Nymphs were female nature spirits of objects or places such as trees, springs, rivers, mountains etc.

They were everywhere and were usually young and beautiful, and loved music and dancing.

The Nymphs were not immortal as some might think, but they lived much longer than humans.

The cult of the Nymphs was popular in Roman religion, perhaps not only because they were young and beautiful and not menacing, but perhaps also because they were everywhere.

And like other Roman divinities and numina, they were more relatable to humans than the gods of later, ‘revealed’ religions.

Nymphaeum, or shrine dedicated to the Nymphs (Jerash, Jordan)

Those are the primary numina of Roman religion. I hope that you have learned something new in this short post.

While it is true that the belief in spirits spans most world religions, the Roman beliefs, to me, are utterly fascinating for they are a mixture of the divine and departed, of nurture and menace, of fear and inspiration.

Just as Romans lived with and honoured their Gods on a daily basis, so too did the spirits of their world roam alongside them.

Thank you for reading.

If you would like to learn all about Sacrifices in Roman religion, CLICK HERE to carry on reading.

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Ancient Everyday: Janus – The Faces of a Roman God

Salvete Readers and History-lovers!

Happy New Year to all of you, and may this new decade bring you much love, joy, good health, and prosperity in all you do!

I’ve been off for a couple of weeks after a full autumn of blogging, right up to threshold of 2020, but now it’s time to get back down to work and bring you all more history and historical fiction!

I thought it would be nice to start the year off right with a new Ancient Everyday post about one of the most important gods in ancient Rome: Janus.

Janus, the two-faced god. Give him a thought as we step from one year into another.

See Janus comes…the herald of a lucky year to thee, and in my song takes precedence. Two-headed Janus, opener of the softly gliding year, thou who alone of the celestials dost behold thy back, O come propitious to the chiefs whose toil ensures peace to the fruitful earth, peace to the sea. And come propitious to thy senators and to the people of Quirinus, and by thy nod unbar the temples white. A happy morning dawns. Fair speech, fair thoughts I crave! Now must good words be spoken on a good day.

(Ovid, Fasti, Book I, Kalends, Ianuarius)

Unlike many other gods, there was no equivalent to Janus in Greek myth. He was a uniquely Roman god.

In Roman mythology, Janus was said to be the first king of Latium. He pursued caught up with the virgin nymph, Carna (who usually escaped her suitors), and in return he gave her power over door hinges and a branch of hawthorn to keep evil spirits away from thresholds and doorways.

Janus was also the father of Tiberinus, who gave his name to the River Tiber, and of the nymph Canens, by Venilia, who married Picus, the son of Saturn, both of whom were tortured by the jealous enchantress, Circe.

While the fates guard Canens, Janus’s daughter, for me [Picus], I will not harm our bond of affection by an alien love. Repeating her entreaties, time and again, in vain, Circe cried: ‘You will not go unpunished, or return to your Canens, and you will learn the truth of what the wounded; a lover; a woman, can do: and Circe is a lover; is wounded; is a woman!’

(Ovid, Metamorphoses, XIV:320-396)

Circe Changing Picus into a Bird (Circes concubitum detestatur Picus), from Ovid’s ‘Metamorphoses’ (Wikimedia Commons)

The mythology around Janus is fascinating enough, but even more so are the aspects of this Roman god.

Janus is one of those gods who permeated many aspects of Roman life, but one who is sometimes glossed over when looking at ancient Rome today.

Janus was really everywhere. Right now, we find ourselves in the month of Janus, or Ianuarius, as the Romans said. That’s January to all of us. Why is the month of January named after this archaic Roman god?

Among the many aspects of Janus, he was the Roman god of new beginnings, as well as endings. Not only was January dedicated to Janus, but also the kalends (the first day) of every month were as well.

When Romans wanted to bless the beginning of anything new – a month, a year, a journey, a business venture etc. – Janus was the first god they prayed to. As the god of beginnings, Janus was always the first god to be named on any list of the gods, or honoured in any ceremony, no matter for which god the ceremony was dedicated. He was also the first god to receive a portion of the sacrifice.

But Janus was not just a god of new beginnings. There was much more to this fascinating, most-ancient god of the Roman pantheon.

Remains of the Temple of Janus in Rome (Wikimedia Commons)

Janus was also a god of gates and doorways, and this is one reason for which he is often depicted as having two faces. Janus ‘Bifrons’ guarded over transitionary places such as gates and doorways, or even the crossing point of one year to the other, his two faces simultaneously looking forward and backward, seeing all.

As the god who oversaw passageways and doorways, Janus was the god who allowed mortals to communicate with the other gods, and so his invocation at the outset of a religious ceremony was crucial.

But there are even more aspects to Janus.

Janus ‘Patulcius’ was the god who actually opened doors, and Janus ‘Clusivus’ was the god who closed doors. 

Janus ‘Consivius’, was a god of change and of time who was also invoked at important events such as marriage, or death, or at harvest and planting times of year.

Janus ‘Quirinus’ was the god of the all-important Roman passage from war to peace, from soldier to citizen.

In ancient Rome, however, Janus was probably most worshiped as Janus ‘Pater’, Janus the Father who was a god of creation, or a primal creator in the form of Chaos.

Definitely a god you want to have on your side.

A print from Bernard de Montfaucon’s L’antiquité expliquée et représentée en figures with different images of Janus. (Wikimedia Commons)

The ancients called me Chaos, for a being from of old am I; observe the long, long ages of which my song shall tell. Yon lucid air and the three others bodies, fire, water, earth, were huddled all in one. When once, through the discord of its elements, the mass parted, dissolved, and went in diverse ways to seek new homes, flame sought the height, air filled the nearer space, while earth and sea sank in the middle deep. ‘Twas then that I, till that time a mere ball, a shapeless lump, assumed the face and members of a god. And even now, small index of my erst chaotic state, my front and back look just the same. Now hear the other reason for the shape you ask about, that you may know it and my office too. Whate’er you see anywhere – sky, sea, clouds, earth – all things are closed and opened by my hand. The guardianship of this vast universe is in my hands alone, and none but me may rule the wheeling pole. When I choose to send forth peace from tranquil halls, she freely walks the ways unhindered. But with blood and slaughter the whole world would welter, did not the bars unbending hold the barricadoed wars. I sit at heaven’s gate with the gentle Hours; my office regulates the goings and the comings of Jupiter himself. Hence Janus is my name; but when the priest offers me a barley cake and spelt mingled with salt, you would laugh to hear the names he gives me, for on his sacrificial lips I’m now Patulcius and now Clusius called. Thus rude antiquity made shift to work my changing functions with the change of name. My business I have told. Now learn the reason for my shape, though already you perceive it in part. Every door has two fronts, this way and that, whereof one faces the people and the other the house-god; and just as your human porter, seated at the threshold of the house-door, sees who goes out and in, so I, the porter of the heavenly court, behold at once both East and West. 

(Ovid, Fasti, Book I, Kalends, Ianuarius)

Janus was honoured at many different times of year, and for various events, but his main festival was, oddly enough, held on the 17th of August. This was also the festival of Portunus, or Portunalia, which honoured the god who protected doors and harbours.

Rites dedicated to Janus at these various times of year, including the start and end of the military campaigning season (March and October) included offerings of spelt cakes and salt that were burned upon altars.

And on New Year’s Day – a very important beginning up to our own day – people gave gifts of dates, figs, honey, salt and coins.

One important tradition we still honour today is the offering of good wishes and cheerful words at New Year. All of these honoured Janus!

Interestingly, Janus did not have a specific priest in ancient Rome. The rites for him were performed by the Rex Sacrorum, the ‘King of the Sacred Rites’.

Janus had various shrines dedicated to him in Rome, but perhaps the most famous was the one built by King Numa Pompilius (c. 715-673 B.C.) the second king of Rome, after Romulus himself. Religion was important to King Numa.

The temple of Janus was built by Numa in the Forum Romanum, but this was no ordinary temple. It was more of an East-West passageway with doors at each end.

This temple represented the beginning and end of war or conflict, and the journey that entailed. During war, the doors of the temple of Janus were left open, but during peace time, the doors were closed.

Needless to say, in ancient Rome, as the Empire expanded, the doors were more often open than closed.

He [Janus] also has a temple at Rome with double doors, which they call the gates of war; for the temple always stands open in time of war, but is closed when peace has come. The latter was a difficult matter, and it rarely happened, since the realm was always engaged in some war, as its increasing size brought it into collision with the barbarous nations which encompassed it round about. But in the time of Augustus Caesar it was closed, after he had overthrown Antony; and before that, when Marcus Atilius and Titus Manlius were consuls, it was closed a short time; then war broke out again at once, and it was opened. During the reign of Numa, however, it was not seen open for a single day, but remained shut for the space of forty-three years together, so complete and universal was the cessation of war. For not only was the Roman people softened and charmed by the righteousness and mildness of their king, but also the cities round about, as if some cooling breeze or salubrious wind were wafted upon them from Rome, began to experience a change of temper, and all of them were filled with a longing desire to have good government, to be at peace, to till the earth, to rear their childrenin quiet, and to worship the gods.

(Plutarch, The Life of King Numa, XX)

Temple of Janus on a coin minted by Nero (54-68 A.D.) Note that the doors are closed.

It is often the case, especially in fiction and popular culture, that religion in ancient Rome is often ignored or glossed over.

But if you want an accurate picture of everyday life in ancient Rome, or if you want to get to know the Romans more completely, their religious beliefs and practices are an important part of that picture.

Many people today may not believe in gods, or a god, anymore, but to the ancient Romans, they played a central role in every aspect of life, and Janus, in all his many guises, was at the forefront of the Roman pantheon.

Thank you for reading, and a very Happy New Year to you all!

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Io Saturnalia! – Celebrating ‘The best of days’ in Ancient Rome

Happy Saturnalia, everyone! Or, as the Romans said, Io Saturnalia!

December 17th was the official start of Saturnalia in the Roman Empire, and for seven days the Roman world, and especially Rome itself, experienced what can only be described as a carnival atmosphere.

Just as Christmas is a time of year that many people look forward to, so too was Saturnalia for Romans, free and slave.

Today we’re going to take a brief look at some of the customs that surrounded this ‘the best of days,” as the poet Catullus called it.

The God Saturn

Saturnalia was basically a winter solstice festival in honour of the god Saturn, the chthonic (of the earth) Roman god of seed sowing, who was often equated with the Greek god Cronus. As an agricultural deity, his symbol was a scythe.

The primary temple for this Roman deity was at the foot of the Capitoline Hill, across from the Rostra, the Temple of Concord, and the arch of Septimius Severus.

The festival of Saturnalia was originally a single day, but eventually ran from December 17th to December 23rd, ending on the Dies Natalis Solis Invicti, or the birthday of the Unconquerable Sun. The three days from December 17th to the 19th were considered to be legal holidays on which no work was done. Schools, gymnasia and courts were closed, and no war was waged.

The Temple of Saturn (centre)in the Forum Romanum, Rome

Saturnalia was a sacred time of year in the Roman calendar, but oddly enough, there is no single, full description of the festival. What we know comes from various references in ancient sources, mainly Macrobius whose work on Roman religious lore is set during the festival.

So, what do we know about the festival of Saturnalia, and what traditions did people keep at that time of year?

A bit of public gambling during Saturnalia!

In ancient Rome, we know that the festivities began on December 17th with a sacrifice at the Temple of Saturn in the Forum, in which the priest performed the ceremony in the Greek fashion, ritus Graecus, with his head uncovered. In the temple, the feet of Saturn’s statue were normally bound up with wool, but for Saturnalia, the wool was removed, and some believe this symbolized the liberation that many felt during the festival.

After the sacrifice, which may have been a suckling pig, there followed a grand public banquet, or convivium publicum, which was paid for by the state. A statue of Saturn was placed upon a couch for this event so that the god could preside over the festivities.

Candles, or cerei were a big part of Saturnalia

As a festival of light, or the solstice, wax candles, or cerei, were lit everywhere and given as gifts. The light may also have been considered a symbol of the quest for knowledge and truth, something to go along with this season of hope for many in the dark days of winter.

Another symbol of the season was holly, which was considered sacred to Saturn. Sprigs of this were also given as token gifts. Many other gifts were given at this time of year, mainly on December 19th, which was the day of the sigillaria, the day of gift-giving.

Holly was sacred to Saturn

In addition to wax candles, gifts could include pottery, writing tablets, dice, knucklebones, combs, toothpicks, hats, knives, lamps, balls, perfumes, and toys for children. If you were among the rich, exotic animals or slaves might even be given!

Figurines were also a gift that was given, and these have something of an interesting history. One thought is that this particular gift stemmed from the giving of toys to children. However, another, darker possibility for the giving of figurines is that they were intended as substitutes for the human blood offerings that may have originally been offered to the earth god Saturn, in the early days of Rome, perhaps in the form of gladiatorial combat to the death.

Some sigillaria were similar to the gifts we get in Christmas crackers today, but they could be much more elaborate too.

In addition to the public celebrations of Saturnalia, the festivities continued at home.

On December 18th and 19th, domestic rituals of the family were observed, such as bathing, and the common sacrifice of a suckling pig to Saturn.

Gifts were given among the family on the day of the sigillaria, but also in the days to come.

One interesting tradition was that the usual clothes worn by Romans, such as the toga or plain tunica, were discarded during Saturnalia in favour of colourful clothes known as synthesis, which were a mish-mash of patterns and colours. They were the Roman party clothes of Saturnalia! Along with the synthesis, Roman men also wore a felt or leather conical cap known as a pileus.

The pileus was a conical felt or leather cap worn by men during Saturnalia

Saturnalia was a time of role reversal, a time when the opposite of normal was acceptable.

For instance, during Saturnalia gambling was permitted in public, with the stakes being either coins or, oddly enough, nuts!

Overeating and drunkenness were common, as was guising, which was the wearing of masks or costumes to take on another persona.

Thou knowest not what evening may bring.
(Macrobius. Saturnalia)

However, perhaps the most commonly known tradition of Saturnalia was the role reversal of masters and slaves. Traditionally, masters would serve their slaves a meal of the sort that they would usually enjoy, sigillaria would be given, and the slaves were even at liberty to insult their masters without fear of retribution.

Citizens or slaves might even be elected the ‘King of Saturnalia’ at the banquet at which time they could give absurd orders that had to be obeyed.

Guising and the wearing of masks occurred during Saturnalia

If this seems like a hectic summary with myriad different traditions and goings on, you’d be right. Just as with Christmas today, everyone likely had their own unique take on the traditions of the season. Roman religion was highly customizable!

You’d also be correct in assuming that some of the traditions of Saturnalia feel very familiar. At Christmastime, people eat and drink more than is usual (if they are so fortunate), there are a couple of days off work, gifts are given, holly (and perhaps ivy) is hung, candles are lit, and more.

Around the winter solstice, it seems that many cultures and religions find cause to celebrate.

So, from December 17th this year and in the run-up to Christmas, spare a thought for the Romans who certainly knew how to throw a good party this time of year.

Thank you for reading, and Io Saturnalia!

Io Saturnalia!

For those of you who are fans of historical fantasy set in ancient Rome, you may want to check out one of Eagles and Dragons Publishing’s latest releases, Saturnalia: A Tale of Wickedness and Redemption in Ancient Rome.

Much of the research for this post was done for the writing of this new book, so if you would like to see many of these ancient traditions come to life, you’ll want to check it out by CLICKING HERE.

Lastly, and for a bit of fun at this festive time of year, check out this hilarious video and song by the Ashmolean Latin Inscriptions Project and members of Oxford’s Faculty of Classics:

 

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Sacrifice in the Roman World

Oftentimes, when we think of the world of ancient Rome, one of the images that springs to mind is that of the sacrifice, the image of a priest before an altar slashing the throat of some sort of animal, the blood of which oozes in grisly flow down the sides of a white marble altar.

It’s a dramatic image to be sure, but it does not provide us with the complete facts of sacrifice in Roman society.

Today, we are going to take a brief look at sacrifice in Roman religion, what it meant and what it could entail.

Roman altars, perhaps erected as votive offerings themselves

Basically, a sacrifice, or sacrificium, was a gift to the gods, heroes, emperors, or the dead. It was not simply a matter of the ritualistic killing of animals as is our modern perception of ancient sacrifice.

Not all sacrifices were blood sacrifices, and not all sacrifices were public displays either. There were also private sacrifices.

Whether public or private, the goal was to maintain one’s relationship with the gods, the dead, etc. and this was done in different ways.

Food offerings were not only of flesh, but could also be of fruit or grain, milk, honey or something similar.

Depending upon the nature of the offering and its intent, a food offering might be part of a sacrificial feast in which people shared with the gods, both receiving their portion to consume. Alternatively, the entirety of the sacrifice might be offered to the gods to be consumed in the flames.

Most of the evidence for sacrifices in the Roman world come to us from inscriptions on altars which were themselves considered sacrifices.

There could be various reasons for a sacrifice such as one made in expectation of a favour, or a sacrifice that was demanded by the gods through an oracle, omen, dream or some other such occurrence. Sacrifices were also made on anniversaries, such as the anniversary of a family member’s death or an historic event, or they could be made as part of a religious festival.

Roman religion was customizable in a sense, and so the types of gifts of sacrifices could vary. They might include cakes, incense, oils, wine, honey, milk, and perhaps sacred herbs or flowers. And yes, they could also include various blood sacrifices with certain types and colour of animals being more fitting for certain gods.

A bull being led to sacrifice, the ceremony accompanied by a tibicen, or flute player.

One of the most common forms of sacrifices were those made in fulfillment of a vow, meaning that if a particular god undertook a specific action on behalf of the mortal making the request, then that mortal would carry out the promised sacrifice. Perhaps that mortal would build an altar to that god if his political campaign was successful, or perhaps a general would sacrifice fifty bulls if he was victorious on the battlefield?

When it came to the slaughter of animals as part of a sacrifice, it seems that male animals were offered to male gods, and female animals to goddesses. They had to be free of blemishes and a suitable colour as well, for example, black for underworld gods. There were also times when the animal sacrificed was one that was considered unfit for human consumption, such as the sacrifice of dogs to Hecate.

A sacrifice portrayed on a lararium, or family shrine, in Pompeii

It does not appear to have been usual for a regular citizen to perform an animal sacrifice. It was more the case that the person who wanted to make the sacrifice made arrangements for the ceremony with the aedituus of a particular temple who hired a victimarius to perform the actual slaughter. There might also have been music provided by a flute player, or tibicen, in order to please the god but also to cover up any sounds of ill-omen from the victim.

For most sacrifices, a priest would have his head covered by the folds of a toga to guard against ill-omened sights and sounds, except at Saturnalia when things were the reverse of the usual and priests performed sacrifices with their heads uncovered.

Notice the covered head of the person performing the sacrifice, and the poleaxe carried by the victimarius leading the bull to slaughter.

One might think that it was an easy thing to slaughter an animal, but it seems that the opposite is the case. Aside from trying to avoid any ill-omened sights or sounds, the way in which an animal was slaughtered was very important to Romans.

The head of the animal was usually sprinkled with grains, wine, or sacred cake known as mola salsa before it was killed. It was then stunned with a blow to the head, perhaps with a ceremonial axe or cudgel, and then stabbed or its throat slit with a sacrificial knife. The blood was then caught in a special bowl and poured over the altar.

Once the sacred deed was done, the animal was skinned and cut up. It is at this point that a haruspex might examine the entrails for messages or omens from the gods.

The remains were roasted over the fire with the entrails consumed first. Bones wrapped in fat, the preferred portion of the gods, were then burned upon the sacred fire along with other offerings such as wine or oil. If it was part of a sacrificial feast, the remaining portions were then roasted for the mortal participants.

Relief of Emperor Marcus Aurelius performing a sacrifice

Blood sacrifices could be performed for different occasions that also included times of crisis, such as if Hannibal was at the gates of Rome, for the purposes of purification, or for the rites of the dead.

Chillingly, I only recently discovered that a holocaust was a sacrifice in which the victims were completely burned.

Another type of sacrifice that was well-known in ancient Rome was the suovetaurilia which involved the sacrifice of a pig, a sheep, and an ox. No doubt this particular sacrifice made for a good meal afterward for the participants.

Relief of a Suovetaurilia ceremony

But what about human sacrifice in the Roman world?

It is thought that early gladiatorial combat was a form of sacrifice, but there is little evidence for regular human sacrifice over time.

It was practiced only in exceptional circumstances such as after disasters in battle. One example is in 216. B.C., after the battle of Cannae when the Sibylline Books were consulted, a pair of Greeks and a pair of Gauls were sacrificed by being buried alive in the Forum Boarium of Rome. Titus Livius (Livy) recounts the latter here:

Since in the midst of so many misfortunes this pollution was, as happens at such times, converted into a portent, the decemvirs were commanded to consult the Books, and Quintus Fabius Pictor was dispatched to Delphi, to enquire of the oracle with what prayers and supplications they might propitiate the gods, and what would be the end of all their calamities. In the meantime, by the direction of the Books of Fate, some unusual sacrifices were offered; amongst others a Gaulish man and woman and a Greek man and woman were buried alive in the Cattle Market, in a place walled in with stone, which even before this time had been defiled with human victims, a sacrifice wholly alien to the Roman spirit.

(Livy; The History of Rome 22.57.6)

The Forum Boarium in Rome, the Cattle Market with the round Temple of Hercules on the left.

Human sacrifice was eventually outlawed by senatorial decree in 97 B.C., though the practice might have continued in some non-Roman cults for a time. It does seem that effigies or masks could have replaced actual human victims in some rites.

Whether they took place in a public forum, in one of the main temples of Rome, or in the lararium of a private domus, it seems evident that sacrifice was central to Roman religious practices.

The sacrificial offerings varied greatly from animal and human flesh, to wine, oil and incense, to other foods such as cakes, grains, flowers and more. Sacrifices could also include altars and the building of monuments.

What mattered was that the gods were propitiated and the dialogue between the earthly and divine realms was maintained and respected.

To me, Roman religion and sacrifice are crucial to our understanding of the ancient Roman world. It’s a fascinating subject that still holds many mysteries, and I hope that you have found this brief look interesting.

Thank you for reading.

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