RHEA SILVIA.
B.C. 800
Rhea Silvia.--The order of vestal virgins.--The ancient
focus.--Arrangement for fire.--Nature of the ceremonies instituted in
honor of Vesta.--Her vestal virgins.--Their duties.--Terrible punishment
for those who violated their vows.--Similar observances in modern
times.--Influence of the vestal institution.--Ceremonies.--Qualifications
of the candidate.--Term of service.--The sacred fire.--Punishment for
neglect of duty.--Question in regard to the succession.--Origin of the
name Silvius.--History of Ascanius.--His war with Mezentius.--The
Trojans victorious.--Settlement of the kingdom.--Lavinia recalled.--The
building of Alba Longa.--Situation of Alba Longa.--The name.--Successor
to Ascanius.--Perplexing question.--Settlement of the
question.--Tiberinus.--The story of Alladius and his thunder.--Death of
Alladius.--Superstitions.--Numitor and Amulius.--Their respective
characters.--Division of their father's possessions.--Policy of
Numitor.--Death of Egestus.--Rhea enters upon her duties as a vestal
virgin.--Unexpected events announced.
Rhea Silvia, the mother of Romulus, was a vestal virgin, who lived in
the kingdom of Latium about four hundred years after the death of
AEneas. A vestal virgin was a sort of priestess, who was required, like
the nuns of modern times, to live in seclusion from the rest of the
world, and devote their time wholly and without reserve to the
services of religion. They were, like nuns, especially prohibited from
all association and intercourse with men.
AEneas himself is said to have founded the order of vestal virgins, and
to have instituted the rites and services which were committed to
their charge. These rites and services were in honor of Vesta, who was
the goddess of Home. The fireside has been, in all ages and countries,
the center and the symbol of home, and the worship of Vesta consisted,
accordingly, of ceremonies designed to dignify and exalt the fireside
in the estimation of the people. Instead of the images and altars
which were used in the worship of the other deities, a representation
of a _fire-stand_ was made, such as were used in the houses of those
days; and upon this sacred stand a fire was kept continually burning,
and various rites and ceremonies were performed in connection with it,
in honor of the domestic virtues and enjoyments, of which it was the
type and symbol.
These fire-stands, as used by the ancients, were very different from
the fire-places of modern times, which are recesses in chimneys with
flues above for the passage of the smoke. The household fires of the
ancients were placed in the center of the apartment, on a hearth or
supporter called the _focus_. This hearth was made sometimes of stone
or brick, and sometimes of bronze. The smoke escaped above, through
openings in the roof. This would seem, according to the ideas of the
present day, a very comfortless arrangement; but it must be remembered
that the climate in those countries was mild, and there was
accordingly but little occasion for fire; and then, besides, such were
the habits of the people at this period of the world, that not only
their pursuits and avocations, but far the greater portion of their
pleasures, called them into the open air. Still, the fire-place was,
with them as with us, the type and emblem of domestic life; and
accordingly, in paying divine honors to Vesta, the goddess of Home,
they set up a _focus_, or fire-place, in her temple, instead of an
altar, and in the place of sacrifices they simply kept burning upon it
a perpetual fire.
The priestesses who had charge of the fire were selected for this
purpose when they were children. It was required that they should be
from six to ten years of age. When chosen they were consecrated to the
service of Vesta by the most solemn ceremonies, and as virgins, were
bound under awful penalties, to spotless purity of life. As the
perpetual fire in the temple of Vesta represented the fire of the
domestic hearth, so these vestal virgins represented the maidens by
whom the domestic service of a household is performed; and the life of
seclusion and celibacy which was required of them was the emblem of
the innocence and purity which the institution of the family is
expressly intended to guard. The duties of the vestals were analogous
to those of domestic maidens. They were to watch the fire, and never
to allow it to go out. They were to perform various rites and
ceremonies connected with the worship of Vesta and to keep the
interior of the temple and the shrines pure and clean, and the sacred
vessels and utensils arranged, as in a well-ordered household. In a
word, they were to be, in purity, in industry, in neatness, in order,
and in patience and vigilance, the perfect impersonation of maidenly
virtue as exhibited in its own proper field of duty at home.
The most awful penalties were visited upon the head of any vestal
virgin who was guilty of violating her vows. There is no direct
evidence what these penalties were at this early period, but in
subsequent years, at Rome, where the vestal virgins resided, the man
who was guilty of enticing one of them away from her duty was publicly
scourged to death in the Roman forum. For the vestal herself, thus led
away, a cell was dug beneath the ground, and vaulted over. A pit led
down to this subterranean dungeon, entering it by one side. In the
dungeon itself there was placed a table, a lamp, and a little food.
The descent was by a ladder which passed down through the pit. The
place of this terrible preparation for punishment was near one of the
gates of the city, and when all was ready the unhappy vestal was
brought forth, at the head of a great public procession,--she herself
being attended by her friends and relatives, all mourning and
lamenting her fate by the way. The ceremony, in a word, was in all
respects a funeral, except that the person who was to be buried was
still alive. On arriving at the spot, the wretched criminal was
conducted down the ladder and placed upon the couch in the cell. The
assistants who performed this service then returned; the ladder was
drawn up; earth was thrown in until the pit was filled; and the erring
girl was left to her fate, which was, when her lamp had burned out,
and her food was expended, to starve by slow degrees, and die at last
in darkness and despair.
If we would do full justice to the ancient founders of civilization
and empire, we should probably consider their enshrinement of Vesta,
and the contriving of the ceremonies and observances which were
instituted in honor of her, not as the setting up of an idol or false
god, for worship, in the sense in which Christian nations worship the
spiritual and eternal Jehovah--but rather as the embodiment of an
idea,--a principle,--as the best means, in those rude ages, of
attracting to it the general regard.
Even in our own days, and in Christian lands, men erect a pole in
honor of liberty, and surmount it with the image of a cap. And if,
instead of the cap, they were to place a carved effigy of liberty
above, and to assemble for periodical celebrations below, with games,
and music, and banners, we should not probably call them idolaters. So
Christian poets write odes and invocations to Peace, to
Disappointment, to Spring, to Beauty, in which they impersonate an
idea, or a principle, and address it in the language of adoration, as
if it were a sentient being, possessing magical and mysterious powers.
In the same manner, the rites and celebrations of ancient times are
not necessarily all to be considered as idolatry, and denounced as
inexcusably wicked and absurd. Our fathers set up an image in honor of
liberty, to strengthen the influence of the love of liberty on the
popular mind. It is possible that AEneas looked upon the subject in the
same light, in erecting a public fireside in honor of domestic peace
and happiness, and in designating maidens to guard it with constant
vigilance and with spotless purity. At all events, the institution
exercised a vast and an incalculable power, in impressing the minds of
men, in those rude ages, with a sense of the sacredness of the
domestic tie, and in keeping before their minds a high standard, in
theory at least, of domestic honor and purity. We must remember that
they had not then the word of God, nor any means of communicating to
the minds of the people any general enlightenment and instruction.
They were obliged, therefore, to resort to the next best method which
their ingenuity could devise.
There were a great many very extraordinary rites and ceremonies
connected with the service of the vestal altar, and many singular
regulations for the conduct of it, the origin and design of which it
would now be very difficult to ascertain. As has already been
remarked, the virgins were chosen when very young, being, when
designated to the office, not under six nor over ten years of age.
They were chosen by the king, and it was necessary that the candidate,
besides the above-named requisite in regard to age, should be in a
perfect condition of soundness and health in respect to all her bodily
limbs and members, and also to the faculties of her mind. It was
required too that she should be the daughter of free and freeborn
parents, who had never been in slavery, and had never followed any
menial or degrading occupation; and also that both her parents should
be living. To be an orphan was considered, it seems, in some sense an
imperfection.
The service of the vestal virgins continued for thirty years; and when
this period had expired, the maidens were discharged from their vows,
and were allowed, if they chose, to lay aside their vestal robes, and
the other emblems of their office, and return to the world, with the
privilege even of marrying, if they chose to do so. Though the laws
however permitted this, there was a public sentiment against it, and
it was seldom that any of the vestal priestesses availed themselves of
the privilege. They generally remained after their term of service had
expired, in attendance at the temple, and died as they had lived in
the service of the goddess.
One of the chief functions of the virgins, in their service in the
temple, was to keep the sacred fire perpetually burning. This fire was
never to go out, and if, by any neglect on the part of the vestal in
attendance, this was allowed to occur, the guilty maiden was punished
terribly by scourging. The punishment was inflicted by the hands of
the highest pontifical officer of the state. The laws of the
institution however evinced their high regard for the purity and
modesty of the vestal maidens by requiring that the blows should be
administered in the dark, the sufferer having been previously prepared
to receive them by being partially undressed by her female attendants.
The extinguished fire was then rekindled with many solemn ceremonies.
Rhea Silvia, the mother of Romulus, was, we repeat, a vestal virgin.
She lived four hundred years after the death of AEneas. During these
four centuries, the kingdom had been governed by the descendants of
AEneas, generally in a peaceful and prosperous manner, although some
difficulties occurred in the establishment of the succession
immediately after AEneas's death. It will be remembered that AEneas was
drowned during the continuance of the war. He left one son, and
perhaps others. The one who figured most conspicuously in the
subsequent history of the kingdom, was Ascanius, the son who had
accompanied AEneas from Troy, and who had now attained to years of
maturity. He, of course, on his father's death, immediately succeeded
him.
There was some question, however, whether, after all, Lavinia herself
was not entitled to the kingdom. It was doubtful, according to the
laws and usages of those days, whether AEneas held the realm in his own
right, or as the husband of Lavinia, who was the daughter and heir of
Latinus, the ancient and legitimate king. Lavinia, however, seemed to
have no disposition to assert her claim. She was of a mild and gentle
spirit; and, besides, her health was at that time such as to lead her
to wish for retirement and repose. She even had some fears for her
personal safety, not knowing but that Ascanius would be suspicious and
jealous of her on account of her claims to the throne, and that he
might be tempted to do her some injury. Her husband had been her only
protector among the Trojans, and now, since he was no more, and
another, who was in some sense her rival, had risen to power, she
naturally felt insecure. She accordingly took the first opportunity to
retire from Lavinium. She went away into the forests in the interior
of the country, with a very few attendants and friends, and concealed
herself there in a safe retreat. The family that received and
sheltered her was that of Tyrrheus, the chief of her father's
shepherds, whose children's stag Ascanius had formerly killed. Here,
in a short time, she had a son. She determined to name him from his
father; and in order to commemorate his having been born in the midst
of the wild forest scenes which surrounded her at the time of his
birth, she called him in full, AEneas of the woods, or, as it was
expressed in the language which was then used in Latium, AEneas
Silvius. The boy, when he grew up, was always known by this name in
subsequent history.
And not only did he himself retain the name, but he transmitted it to
his posterity, for all the kings that afterward descended from him,
extending in a long line through a period of four hundred years, had
the word Silvius affixed to their names, in perpetual commemoration of
the romantic birth of their ancestor. Rhea, the mother of Romulus, of
whom we have already spoken, and of whom we shall presently have
occasion to speak still more, was Rhea _Silvia_, by reason of her
having been by birth a princess of this royal line.
Ascanius, in the mean time, on the death of his father, was for a time
so engrossed in the prosecution of the war, that he paid but little
attention to the departure of Lavinia. The name of the king of the
Rutulians who fought against him was Mezentius. Mezentius had a son
named Lausus, and both father and son were personally serving in the
army by which Ascanius was besieged in Lavinium. Mezentius had command
in the camp, at the head-quarters of the army, which was at some
distance from the city. Lausus headed an advanced guard, which had
established itself strongly at a post which they had taken near the
gates. In this state of things, Ascanius, one dark and stormy night,
planned a sortie. He organized a desperate body of followers, and
after watching the flashes of lightning for a time, to find omens from
them indicating success, he gave the signal. The gates were opened and
the column of armed men sallied forth, creeping noiselessly forward
in the darkness and gloom, until they came to the encampment of
Lausus. They fell upon this camp with an irresistible rush, and with
terrific shouts and outcries. The whole detachment were taken entirely
by surprise, and great numbers were made prisoners or slain. Lausus
himself was killed.
Excited by their victory, the Trojan soldiers, headed by Ascanius, now
turned their course toward the main body of the Rutulian army.
Mezentius had, however, in the mean time, obtained warning of their
approach, and when they reached his camp he was ready to retreat. He
fled with all his forces toward the mountains. Ascanius and the
Trojans followed him. Mezentius halted and attempted to fortify
himself on a hill. Ascanius surrounded the hill, and soon compelled
his enemies to come to terms. A treaty was made, and Mezentius and his
forces soon after withdrew from the country, leaving Ascanius and
Latium in peace.
Ascanius then, after having in some degree settled his affairs, began
to think of Lavinia. In fact, the Latin portion of his subjects
seemed disposed to murmur and complain, at her having been compelled
to withdraw from her own paternal kingdom, in order to leave the
throne to the occupancy of the son of a stranger. Some even feared
that she had come to some harm, or that Ascanius might in the end put
her to death when time had been allowed for the recollection of her to
pass in some degree from the minds of men. So the public began
generally to call for Lavinia's return.
Ascanius seems to have been well disposed to do justice in the case,
for he not only sought out Lavinia and induced her to return to the
capital with her little son, but he finally concluded to give up
Lavinium to her entirely, as her own rightful dominion, while he went
away and founded a new city for himself. He accordingly explored the
country around for a favorable site, and at length decided upon a spot
nearly north of Lavinium, and not many miles distant from it. The
place which he marked out for the walls of the city was at the foot of
a mountain, on a tract of somewhat elevated ground, which formed one
of the lower declivities of it. The mountain, rising abruptly on one
side, formed a sure defense on that side: on the other side was a
small lake, of clear and pellucid water. In front, and somewhat
below, there were extended plains of fertile land. Ascanius, after
having determined on this place as the site of his intended city, set
his men at work to make the necessary constructions. Some built the
walls of the city, and laid out streets and erected houses within.
Others were employed in forming the declivity of the mountain above
into terraces, for the cultivation of the vine. The slopes which they
thus graded had a southern exposure, and the grapes which subsequently
grew there were luxurious and delicious in flavor. From the little
lake channels were cut leading over the plains below, and by this
means a constant supply of water could be conveyed to the fields of
grain which were to be sown there, for purposes of irrigation. Thus
the place which Ascanius chose furnished all possible facilities both
for maintaining, and also for defending the people who were to make it
their abode. The town was called Alba Longa, that is long Alba. It was
called _long_ to distinguish it from another Alba. It was really long
in its form, as the buildings extended for a considerable distance
along the border of the lake.
Ascanius reigned over thirty years at Alba Longa, while Lavinia
reigned at Lavinium, each friendly to the other and governing the
country at large, together, in peace and harmony. In process of time
both died. Ascanius left a son whose name was Iulus, while AEneas
Silvius was Lavinia's heir.
There was, of course, great diversity of opinion throughout the nation
in regard to the comparative claims of these two princes,
respectively. Some maintained that AEneas the Trojan became, by
conquest, the rightful sovereign of Latium, irrespective of any rights
that he acquired through his marriage with Lavinia, and that Iulus, as
the son of his eldest son, rightfully succeeded him. Others contended
that Lavinia represented the ancient and the truly legitimate royal
line, and that AEneas Silvius, as her son and heir, ought to be placed
upon the throne. And there were those who proposed to compromise the
question, by dividing Latium into two separate kingdoms, giving up one
part to Iulus, with Alba Longa for its capital, and the other, with
Lavinium for its capital, to AEneas Silvius, Lavinia's heir. This
proposition was, however, overruled. The two kingdoms, thus formed
would be small and feeble, it was thought, and unable to defend
themselves against the other Italian nations in case of war. The
question was finally settled by a different sort of compromise. It was
agreed that Latium should retain its integrity, and that AEneas
Silvius, being the son both of AEneas and Lavinia, and thus
representing both branches of the reigning power, should be the king,
while Iulus and his descendants forever, should occupy the position,
scarcely less inferior, of sovereign power in matters of religion.
AEneas Silvius, therefore, and his descendants, became _kings_, and as
such commanded the armies and directed the affairs of state, while
Iulus and his family were exalted, in connection with them, to the
highest pontifical dignities.
This state of things, once established, continued age after age, and
century after century, for about four hundred years. No records, and
very few traditions in respect to what occurred during this period
remain. One circumstance, however, took place which caused itself to
be remembered. There was one king in the line of the Silvii, whose
name was Tiberinus. In one of his battles with the armies of the
nation adjoining him on the northern side, he attempted to swim across
the river that formed the frontier. He was forced down by the current,
and was seen no more. By the accident, however, he gave the name of
Tiber to the stream, and thus perpetuated his own memory through the
subsequent renown of the river in which he was drowned. Before this
time the river was called the Albula.
Another incident is related, which is somewhat curious, as
illustrating the ideas and customs of the times. One of this Silvian
line of sovereigns was named Alladius. This Alladius conceived the
idea of making the people believe that he was a god, and in order to
accomplish this end he resorted to the contrivance of imitating, by
artificial means, the sound of the rumbling of thunder and the flashes
of lightning at night from his palace on the banks of the lake at Alba
Longa. He employed, probably, for this purpose some means similar to
those resorted to for the same end in theatrical spectacles at the
present day. The people, however were not deceived by this imposture,
though they soon after fell into an error nearly as absurd as
believing in this false thunder would have been; for, on an occasion
which occurred not long afterward, probably that of a great storm
accompanied with torrents of rain upon the mountains around, the lake
rose so high as to produce an inundation, in which the water broke
into the palace, and the pretended thunderer was drowned. The people
considered that he was destroyed thus by the special interposition of
heaven, to punish him for his impiety in daring to assume what was
then considered the peculiar attribute and prerogative of supreme
divinity. In fact, the rumor circulated, and one historian has
recorded it as true, that Alladius was struck by the lightning which
accompanied the storm, and thus killed at once by the terrible agency
which he had presumed to counterfeit, before the inundation of the
palace came on. If he met his death in any sudden and unusual manner,
it is not at all surprising that his fate should have been attributed
to the judgment of God, for thunder was regarded in those days with an
extreme and superstitious veneration and awe. All this is, however,
now changed. Men have learned to understand thunder, and to protect
themselves from its power; and now, since Franklin and Morse have
commenced the work of subduing the potent and mysterious agent in
which it originates, to the human will, the presumption is not very
strong against the supposition that the time may come when human
science may actually produce it in the sky--as it is now produced, in
effect, upon the lecturer's table.
At last, toward the close of the four hundred years during which the
dynasty of the Silvii continued to reign over Latium, a certain
monarch of the series died, leaving two children, Numitor and Amulius.
Numitor was the eldest son, and as such entitled to succeed his
father. But he was of a quiet and somewhat inefficient disposition,
while his younger brother was ardent and ambitious, and very likely to
aspire to the possession of power. The father, it seems, anticipated
the possibility of dissension between his sons after his death, and in
order to do all in his power to guard against it, he endeavored to
arrange and settle the succession before he died. In the course of the
negotiations which ensued, Amulius proposed that his father's
possessions should be divided into two portions, the kingdom to
constitute one, and the wealth and treasures the other, and that
Numitor should choose which portion he would have. This proposal
seemed to have the appearance, at least, of reasonableness and
impartiality; and it would have been really very reasonable, if the
right to the inheritance thus disposed of, had belonged equally to the
younger and to the elder son. But it did not. And thus the offer of
Amulius was, in effect, a proposition to divide with himself that
which really belonged wholly to his brother.
Numitor, however, who, it seems, was little disposed to contend for
his rights, agreed to this proposal. He, however, chose the kingdom,
and left the wealth for his brother; and the inheritance was
accordingly thus divided on the death of the father. But Amulius, as
soon as he came into possession of his treasures, began to employ them
as a means of making powerful friends, and strengthening his political
influence. In due time he usurped the throne, and Numitor, giving up
the contest with very little attempt to resist the usurpation, fled
and concealed himself in some obscure place of retreat. He had,
however, two children, a son and a daughter, which he left behind him
in his flight. Amulius feared that these children might, at some
future time, give him trouble, by advancing claims as their father's
heirs. He did not dare to kill them openly, for fear of exciting the
popular odium against himself. He was obliged, therefore, to resort to
stratagem.
The son, whose name was Egestus, he caused to be slain at a hunting
party, by employing remorseless and desperate men to shoot him, in the
heat of the chase, with arrows, or thrust him through with a spear,
watching their opportunity for doing this at a moment when they were
not observed, or when it might appear to be an accident. The daughter,
whose name was Rhea--the Rhea Silvia named at the commencement of this
chapter--he could not well actually destroy, without being known to be
her murderer; and perhaps too, he had enough remaining humanity to be
unwilling to shed the blood of a helpless and beautiful maiden, the
daughter, too, of his own brother. Then, besides, he had a daughter of
his own named Antho, who was the playmate and companion of Rhea, and
with whose affection for her cousin he must have felt some sympathy.
He would not, therefore, destroy the child, but contented himself
with determining to make her a vestal virgin. By this means she would
be solemnly set apart to a religious service, which would incapacitate
her from aspiring to the throne; and by being cut off, by her vestal
vows, from all possibility of forming any domestic ties, she could
never, he thought, have any offspring to dispute his claim to the
throne.
There was nothing very extraordinary in this consecration of his
niece, princess as she was, to the service of the vestal fire; for it
had been customary for children of the highest rank to be designated
to this office. The little Rhea, for she was yet a child when her
uncle took this determination in respect to her, made, as would
appear, no objection to what she perhaps considered a distinguished
honor. The ceremonies, therefore, of her consecration were duly
performed; she took the vows, and bound herself by the most awful
sanctions--unconscious, however, perhaps, herself of what she was
doing--to lead thenceforth a life of absolute celibacy and seclusion.
She was then received into the temple of Vesta, and there, with the
other maidens who had been consecrated before her, she devoted
herself to the discharge of the duties of her office, without
reproach, for several years. At length, however, certain circumstances
occurred, which suddenly terminated Rhea's career as a vestal virgin,
and led to results of the most momentous character. What these
circumstances were, will be explained in the next chapter.