explain. Like Fortuna, Juno Lucina, Bona Dea, and others, she was a
special object of the worship of women; she assisted the married woman
at childbirth[845]; and on this day the Roman women made a special point
of washing their heads[846]—an unusual performance, perhaps, which has
been explained by reference to the sanctity of the head among primitive
peoples[847]. But Diana, like Silvanus, with whom she is found in
connexion[848], was no doubt originally a spirit of holy trees and
woods, i. e. of wild life generally, who became gradually reclaimed and
brought into friendly and useful relations with the Italian farmer, his
wife, and his cattle[849].
This was also the _dies natalis_ of another temple on the Aventine, that
of Vortumnus, which was dedicated in B.C. 264 by the consul M. Fulvius
Flaccus[850]. About the character of this god there is fortunately no
doubt. Literature here comes to our aid, as it too rarely does:
Propertius[851] describes him elaborately as presiding over gardens and
fruit, and Ovid[852] tells a picturesque story of his love for Pomona
the fruit-goddess, whose antiquity at Rome is proved by the fact that
she had a flamen of her own[853]. The date, August 13, when the fruit
would be ripe, suits well enough with all we know of Vortumnus.
The god had a bronze statue in the Vicus Tuscus, and perhaps for that
reason was believed to have come to Rome from Etruria[854]. But his
name, like Picumnus, is beyond doubt Latin, and may be supposed to
indicate the turn or change in the year at the fruit-season[855]; and if
he really was an immigrant, which is possible, his original cult in
Etruria was not Etruscan proper, but old Italian.
Three other dedications are mentioned in the calendars as occurring on
Aug. 13: to Hercules invictus ad portam trigeminam; to Castor and Pollax
in circo Flaminio; and to Flora ad circum maximum. Of these cults
nothing of special interest is known, and the deities are treated of in
other parts of this work.
XVI KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 17). NP.
PORT[UNALIA]. (MAFF. AMIT. VALL.)
TIBERINALIA. (PHILOC.)
FERIAE PORTUNO. (AMIT. ANT.)
PORTUNO AD PONTEM AEMILIUM. (AMIT. VALL. ALLIF.)
IANO AD THEATRUM MARCELLI. (VALL. ALLIF.)
Who was Portunus, and why was his festival in August? Why was it at the
Pons Aemilius, and where was that bridge? Can any connexion be found
between this and the other August rites? These questions cannot be
answered satisfactorily; the scraps of evidence are too few and too
doubtful. We have here to do with another ancient deity, who survives in
the calendars only, and in the solitary record that he had a special
flamen. This flamen might be a plebeian[856], which seems to suit with
the character of other cults in the district by the Tiber, and may
perhaps point to a somewhat later origin than that of the most ancient
city worships.
There are but two or three texts which help us to make an uncertain
guess at the nature of Portunus. Varro[857] wrote ‘Portunalia et
Portuno, quoi eo die aedes in portu Tiberino facta et feriae
institutae.’ Mommsen takes the _portus_ here as meaning Ostia at the
mouth of the Tiber, and imagines a yearly procession thither from Rome
on this day[858]. This of course is pure hypothesis; but if, as he
insists, _portus_ is rarely or never used for a city wharf on a river
such as that at Rome, we may perhaps accept it provisionally; but in
doing so we have to yield another point to Mommsen, viz. the identity of
Portunus and Tiberinus. In the very late calendar of Philocalus this day
is called Tiberinalia, and from this Mommsen infers the identity of the
two deities[859].
But it may be that the original Portunus had no immediate connexion
either with river or harbour. We find a curious but mutilated note in
the Veronese commentary on Virgil[860]: ‘Portunus, ut Varro ait, deus
port[uum porta]rumque praeses. Quare huius dies festus Portunalia, qua
apud veteres claves in focum add ... mare institutum.’ Huschke[861] here
conjectured ‘addere et infumare,’ and inferred that we should see in
Portunus the god of the gates and keys which secured the stock of corn,
&c., in storehouses. Wild as this writer’s conjectures usually are, in
this case it seems to me possible that he has hit the mark. If the words
‘claves in focum’ are genuine, as they seem to be, we can hardly avoid
the conclusion that something was done to keys on this day; perhaps the
old keys of very hard wood were held in the fire to harden them
afresh[862]. It is worth noting that according to Verrius[863] Portunus
was supposed ‘clavim manu tenere et deus esse portarum.’ This would suit
very well with harvest-time, when barns and storehouses would be
repaired and their gates and fastenings looked to—more especially as it
is not unlikely that the word _portus_ originally meant a safe place of
any kind, and only as civilization advanced became specially
appropriated to harbours[864]. This appropriation may have come about
through the medium of storehouses near the Tiber; and it was long ago
suggested by Jordan that these were under the particular care of
Portunus[865].
If Portunus were really a god of keys and doors and storehouses, it
would be natural to look for some close relation between him and Janus.
But what can be adduced in favour of such a relation does not amount to
much[866]; and it may have been merely by accident that this was the
dedication-day of a temple of Janus ‘ad theatrum Marcelli’[867].
XIV KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 19). FP. (MAFF. AMIT.) F.
(ANT. ALLIF.) NP. (VALL.[868])
VIN[ALIA]. (MAFF. VALL. AMIT. ETC.)
FERIAE IOVI. (ALLIF.)
VENERI AD CIRCUM MAXIMUM. (VALL.)
The ‘Aedes Veneris ad Circum Maximum’ alluded to in the _Fasti
Vallenses_ was dedicated in 295 B.C., and the building was begun at the
expense of certain matrons who were fined for adultery[869]. As has been
already explained, no early connexion can be proved between Venus and
wine or the vintage[870]; though both August 19 and April 23, the days
of the two Vinalia, were dedication-days of temples of the goddess.
The difficult question of the two festivals called Vinalia has been
touched upon under April 23. The one in August was known as Vinalia
Rustica[871], and might naturally be supposed to be concerned with the
ripening grapes. It has been conjectured[872] that it was on this day,
which one calendar marks as a festival of Jupiter, that the Flamen
Dialis performed the _auspicatio vindemiae_, i. e. plucked the first
grapes, and prayed and sacrificed for the safety of the whole crop[873].
If it be argued that August 23 was too early a date for such a rite,
since the vintage was never earlier than the middle of September, we may
remember that the Vestal Virgins plucked the first ears of corn as early
as the first half of May for the purpose of making sacred cakes, some
weeks before the actual harvest[874].
But it is certainly possible that both Vinalia have to do with wine, and
not with the vintage. Festus says that this day was a festival because
the new wine was then first brought into the city[875]; and this does
not conflict with Varro[876], who tells us that on this day _fiunt
feriati olitores_—for it would naturally be a day of rejoicing for the
growers. Mommsen, with some reason, refers these passages to the later
custom of not opening the wine of the last vintage for a year[877], in
which case the year must be understood roughly as from October to
August. He would, in fact, explain this second Vinalia as instituted
when this later and more luxurious custom arose, the old rule of a six
months’ period surviving in the April ceremony. If we ask why the August
Vinalia are called Rustica, Mommsen answers that the country growers
were now at liberty to bring in their wine.
It is difficult to decide between these conflicting views. When an
authority like Mommsen bids us beware of connecting the Vinalia Rustica
with the _auspicatio vindemiae_, we feel that it is at our peril that we
differ from him. He is evidently quite unable to look upon such a date
as August 19 as in any way associated with the vintage which followed
some weeks later. Yet I cannot help thinking, that this association is
by no means impossible; for the grapes would by this time be fully
formed on the vines, and the next few weeks would be an anxious time for
the growers[878]. Ceremonies like that of the Auspicatio, intended to
avert from crops the perils of storm or disease, are known sometimes to
take place when the crops are still unripe. I have already alluded to
the proceedings of the Vestals in May. Mr. Frazer, in an Appendix to his
_Golden Bough_[879], gives a curious instance of this kind from Tonga in
the Pacific Ocean, where what we may call the auspicatio of the Yam-crop
took place before the whole crop was fit for gathering. It was
celebrated ‘just before the yams in general are arrived at a state of
maturity; those which are used in this ceremony being planted sooner
than others, and consequently they are the firstfruits of the yam
season. The object of this offering is to ensure the protection of the
gods, that their favour may be extended to the welfare of the nation
generally and in particular to the productions of the earth, of which
yams are the most important.’
XII KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 21). NP.
CONS[UALIA]. (PINC. MAFF. VALL. ETC.)
CONSO IN AVENTINO SACRIFICIUM. (VALL.)
There was a second festival of Consus on Dec. 15; but the note ‘Conso in
Aventino’ there appears three days earlier, Dec. 12. The temple on the
Aventine was a comparatively late foundation[880]; but as the cult of
this old god became gradually obscured, it seems to have been confused
with the most ancient centre of Consus-worship, the underground altar in
the Circus maximus, ‘ad primas metas’[881]. It is with this latter that
we must connect the two Consualia. What the altar was like we do not
exactly know; it was only uncovered on the festival days. Dionysius
calls it a τέμενος, Servius a ‘templum sub tecto’; and Tertullian, who
explicitly says that it was ‘sub terra,’ asserts that there was engraved
on it the following inscription: ‘Consus consilio, Mars duello, Lares
coillo[882] potentes.’ Wissowa remarks that this statement ‘is not free
from suspicion’; and we may take it as pretty certain that if it was
really there it was not very ancient. The false etymology of Consus, and
the connexion of Mars with war, both show the hand of some comparatively
late interpreter of religion; and the form of the inscription,
nominative and descriptive, is most suspiciously abnormal.
For the true etymology of Consus we are, strange to say, hardly in
doubt; and it helps us to conjecture the real origin of this curious
altar. Consus is connected with ‘condere’[883], and may be interpreted
as the god of the stored-up harvest; the buried altar will thus be a
reminiscence of the very ancient practice—sometimes of late suggested as
worth reviving for hay—of storing the corn underground[884]. Or if this
practice cannot be proved of ancient Italy, we may aptly remember that
sacrifices to chthonic deities were sometimes buried; a practice which
may in earliest times have given rise to the connexion of such gods with
wealth—when agricultural produce rather than the precious metals was the
common form of wealth[885]. Or again we may combine the two
interpretations, and guess that the corn stored up underground was
conceived as in some sense sacrificed to the chthonic deities.
If these views of the altar are correct, we might naturally infer that
the Consualia in August was a harvest festival of some kind.
Plutarch[886] asks why at the Consualia horses and asses have a holiday
and are decked out with flowers; and such a custom would suit
excellently with harvest-home. Unluckily in the only trace of this
custom preserved in the calendars, it is attributed to the December
festival, and is so mutilated as to be useless for detail[887].
FERIAE CONSO EQUI ET [MULI FLORIBUS CORONANTUR].
QUOD IN EIUS TU[TELA SUNT].
[ITA]QUE REX EQUO [VECTUS].
The amplifications here are Mommsen’s, the first two based on Plutarch’s
statement. It is a difficulty, as regards the first, that the middle of
December would be a bad time for flowers: perhaps this did not occur to
the great scholar. I would suggest that either Verrius’ note is here
accidentally misplaced, or that the lacunae must be filled up
differently. In any case I do not think we need fear to refer Plutarch’s
passage to the Consualia of August, and therefore to harvest rejoicings
on that day.
The connexion of the Consus-cult with horses was so obvious as to give
rise eventually to the identification of the god with Poseidon Hippios.
It is certain that there were horse-races in the Circus maximus at one
of the two Consualia, and as Dionysius[888] connects them with the day
of the Rape of the Sabines, which Plutarch puts in August, we may be
fairly sure that they took place at the August festival. Mules also
raced—according to Festus[889], because they were said to be the most
ancient beasts of burden. This looks like a harvest festival, and may
carry us back to the most primitive agricultural society and explain the
origin of the Circus maximus; for the only other horse-races known to us
from the old calendar were those of Mars in the Campus Martius on Feb.
27 and March 13[890]. We may suppose that when the work of harvest was
done, the farmers and labourers enjoyed themselves in this way and laid
the foundation for a great Roman social institution[891].
Once more, it is not impossible that in the legendary connexion of the
Rape of the Sabine women with the Consualia[892] we may see a reflection
of the jollity and license which accompanies the completion of harvest
among so many peoples. Romulus was said to have attracted the Sabines by
the first celebration of the Consualia. Is it not possible that the
meeting of neighbouring communities on a festive occasion of this kind
may have been a favourable opportunity for capturing new wives[893]? The
sexual license common on such occasions has been abundantly illustrated
by Mr. Frazer in his _Golden Bough_[894].
Before leaving the Consualia we may just remark that Consus had no
flamen of his own, in spite of his undoubted antiquity; doubtless
because his altar was underground, and only opened once or perhaps twice
a year. On August 21 his sacrifice was performed, says Tertullian[895],
by the Flamen Quirinalis in the presence of the Vestals. This flamen
seems to have had a special relation to the corn-crops, for it was he
who also sacrificed a dog to Robigus on April 25[896], to avert the
mildew from them; and thus we get one more confirmation from the cult of
the view taken as to the agricultural origin of the Consualia.
X KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 23). NP.
VOLCANALIA. (PINC. MAFF. VALL. ETC.)
VOLCANO IN CIRCO FLAMINIO. (VALL.)
VOLCANO. (PINC.)
(A mutilated fragment of the calendar of the Fratres Arvales gives
QUIR[INO] IN COLLE, VOLK[ANO] IN COMIT[IO]. OPI OPIFER[AE] IN ...,
[NYMP]HIS(?) IN CAMPO).
Of the cult of this day, apart from the extracts from the calendars, we
know nothing, except that the heads of Roman families threw into the
fire certain small fish with scales, which were to be had from the Tiber
fishermen at the ‘area Volcani’[897]. We cannot explain this; but it
reminds us of the fish called _maena_, with magical properties, which
the old woman offered to Tacita and the ghost-world at the
Parentalia[898]. Fish-sacrifices were rare; and if in one rite fish are
used to propitiate the inhabitants of the underworld, they seem not
inappropriate in another of which the object is apparently to propitiate
the fire-god, who in a volcanic country like that of Rome must surely be
a chthonic deity.
The antiquity of the cult of Volcanus is shown by the fact that there
was a Flamen Volcanalis[899], who on May 1 sacrificed to Maia, the
equivalent, as we saw, of Bona Dea, Terra, &c. With Volcanus we may
remember that Maia was coupled in the old prayer formula preserved by
Gellius (13.23)—_Maia Volcani_. From these faint indications
Preller[900] conjectured that the original notion of Volcanus was that
of a favouring nature-spirit, perhaps of the warmth and fertilizing
power of the earth. However this may be, in later times, under
influences which can only be guessed at, he became a hostile fire-god,
hard to keep under control. Of this aspect of him Wissowa has written
concisely at the conclusion of his little treatise _de Feriis_. He
suggests that the appearance of the nymphs[901] in the rites of this day
indicates the use of water in conflagrations, and that Ops Opifera was
perhaps invoked to protect her own storehouses. The name Volcanus became
a poetical word for devouring fire as early as the time of Ennius, and
is familiar to us in this sense in Virgil[902]. After the great fire at
Rome in Nero’s time a new altar was erected to Volcanus by Domitian, at
which (and at all Volcanalia) on this day a red calf and a boar were
offered for sacrifice[903]. At Ostia the cult became celebrated; there
was an ‘aedes’ and a ‘pontifex Volcani’ and a ‘praetor sacris Volcani
faciundis.’ In August the storehouses at Ostia would be full of new
grain arrived from Sicily, Africa, and Egypt, and in that hot month
would be especially in danger from fire; an elaborate cult of Volcanus
the fire-god was therefore at this place particularly desirable.
The aedes Volcani in circo Flaminio was dedicated before 215 B.C.; the
exact date is not known[904]. Its position was explained by
Vitruvius[905] as having the object of keeping conflagrations away from
the city. Mr. Jevons, in his Introduction to a translation of Plutarch’s
_Quaestiones Romanae_[906], has argued from this position, outside the
pomoerium, and from a doubtful etymology, that the cult of Volcanus was
a foreign introduction; but the position of the temple is no argument,
as has been well shown by Aust[907], and the chief area Volcani, or
Volcanal, was in the Comitium, in the heart of the city[908].
IX KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 24). MUNDUS PATET.
This does not appear in the calendars. We learn from Festus[909] that on
this day, on Oct. 5, and Nov. 8, the ‘mundus’ was open. This mundus was
a round pit on the Palatine, the centre of Roma quadrata[910]—the
concave hollow being perhaps supposed to correspond to the concave sky
above[911]. It was closed, so it was popularly believed, by a ‘lapis
manalis’ (Festus s. v.). When this was removed, on the three days there
was supposed to be free egress for the denizens of the underworld[912].
I am much inclined to see in this last idea a later Graeco-Etruscan
accretion upon a very simple original fact. O. Müller long ago
suggested this—pointing out that in Plutarch’s description of the
foundation of Roma quadrata the casting into the trench of
first-fruits of all necessaries of life gives us a clue to the
original meaning of the mundus. If we suppose that it was the _penus_
of the new city—a sacred place, of course—used for storing grain, we
can see why it should be open on Aug. 24[913]. Nor is it difficult to
understand why, when the original use and meaning had vanished, the
Graeco-Etruscan doctrine of the underworld should be engrafted on this
simple Roman stem. Dis and Proserpina claim the mundus: it is ‘ianua
Orci,’ ‘faux Plutonis’[914]—ideas familiar to Romans who had come
under the spell of Etruscan religious beliefs.
VIII KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 25). NP.
OPIC[ONSIVIA]. (ALLIF. MAFF. VALL.)
OPICID. (PINC.) The last two letters must be a cutter’s error.
FERIAE OPI; OPI CONSIV. IN REGIA. (ARV.) The last four words seem to
belong to Aug. 26 (see Mommsen ad loc.).
This festival follows that of Consus after an interval of three days;
and Wissowa[915] has pointed out that in December the same interval
occurs between the Consualia (15th) and the Opalia (19th). This and the
epithet or cognomen Consiva, which is fully attested[916], led him to
fancy that Ops was the wife of Consus, and not the wife of Saturnus, as
has been generally supposed both in ancient and modern times[917]. We
may agree with him that there is no real evidence for any _primitive_
connexion of Saturnus and Ops of this kind; as far as we can tell the
idea was adopted from the relation of Cronos and Rhea. But there was no
need to find any husband for Ops; the name Consiva need imply no such
relation, any more than Lua Saturni, Moles Martis, Maia Volcani, and the
rest[918], or the Tursa Iovia of the Iguvian inscription so often
quoted. Both adjectival and genitive forms are in my view no more than
examples of the old Italian instinct for covering as much ground as
possible in invoking supernatural powers[919]; and this is again a
result of the indistinctness with which those powers were conceived, in
regard both to their nature and function. A distinct specialization of
function was, I am convinced, the later work of the pontifices. Ops and
Consus are obviously closely related; and Wissowa is probably right in
treating the one as a deity ‘messis condendae,’ and the other as
representing the ‘opima frugum copia quae horreis conditur.’ But when he
goes further than this, his arguments ring hollow[920].
Of the ritual of the Opiconsivia we know only what Varro tells us[921]:
‘Opeconsiva dies ab dea Ope Consiva, quoius in Regia sacrarium, quod
ideo actum (so MSS.) ut eo praeter Virgines Vestales et sacerdotem
publicum introeat nemo.’ Many conjectures have been made for the
correction of ‘quod ideo actum’[922]; but the real value of the passage
does not depend on these words. The Regia is the king’s house, and
represents that of the ancient head of the family: the sacrarium Opis
was surely then the sacred _penus_ of that house—the treasury of the
fruits of the earth on which the family subsisted. It suits admirably
with this view that, as Varro says, only the Vestals and a ‘publicus
sacerdos’ were allowed to enter it—i. e. the form was retained from
remote antiquity that the daughters of the house were in charge of
it[923]—the master of the house being here represented by the
sacerdos—the rex sacrorum or a pontifex. In this connexion it is worth
while to quote a passage of Columella[924] which seems to be derived
from some ancient practice of the rural household: ‘Ne contractentur
pocula vel _cibi_ nisi aut ab impube aut certe abstinentissimo rebus
venereis, quibus si fuerit operatus vel vir vel femina debere eos
flumine aut perenni aqua priusquam penora contingant ablui. Propter quod
his necessarium esse pueri vel virginis ministerium, per quos promantur
quae usus postulaverit.’
VI KAL. SEPT. (AUG. 27). NP.
VOLT[URNALIA]. (ALLIF. MAFF. VALL.)
FERIAE VOLTURNO. (ARV. INTER ADDITA POSTERIORA.)
VOLTURNO FLUMINI SACRIFICIUM. (VALL.)
Of this very ancient and perhaps obsolete rite nothing seems to have
been known to the later Latin scholars, or they did not think it worth
comment. Varro mentions a Flamen Volturnalis, but tells us nothing about
him. From the occurrence of the name for a river in Campania it may be
guessed that the god in this case was a river also; and if so, it must
be the Tiber. This is Mommsen’s conclusion, and the only difficulty he
finds in it is that (in his view) Portunus is also the Tiber[925]. Why
did he not see that the same river-god, even if bearing different names,
could hardly have two flamines? I am content to see in Volturnus an old
name for the Tiber, signifying the winding snake-like river[926], and in
Portunus a god of storehouses, as I have explained above.
Here, then, we perhaps have a trace of the lost cult of the Tiber, which
assuredly must have existed in the earliest times—and the _flamen_ is
the proof of its permanent importance. When the name was changed to
Tiber we do not know, nor whether ‘Albula’ marks an intermediate stage
between the two; but that this was the work of the pontifices seems
likely from Servius[927], who writes ‘Tiberinus ... a pontificibus
indigitari solet.’ Of a god Tiberinus there is no single early record.