Part 5

This is a survival of an old popular festival, as is clearly seen from Ovid’s account of it; but the absence of any mention of it in the rustic calendars or in those of Philocalus and Silvius leads us to suppose that it had died out in the early Empire. This may be accounted for by the fact that the people came to be more and more attracted by spectacles and games; and also by the ever-increasing cosmopolitanism of the city populace, which would be continually losing interest in old Roman customs which it could not understand.

On this day, Ovid tells us[126], the ‘plebs’ streamed out to the ‘festum geniale’ of Anna Perenna, and taking up a position in the Campus Martius, not far from the Tiber[127], and lying about on the grass in pairs of men and women, passed the day in revelry and drinking[128]. Some lay in the open; some pitched tents and some constructed rude huts of stakes and branches, stretching their togas over them for shelter. As they drank they prayed for as many years of life as they can swallow cups of wine; meanwhile singing snatches of song with much gesticulation and dancing. The result of these performances was naturally that they returned to the city in a state of intoxication. Ovid tells us that he had seen this spectacle himself[129].

Whether there was any sacrificial rite in immediate connexion with these revels we do not know. Macrobius indeed tells us[130] that sacrifice was offered in the month of March to Anna Perenna ‘ut annare perannareque commode liceat’[131]; and Lydus, that on the Ides there were εὐχαὶ δημόσιαι ὑπὲρ τοῦ ὑγιεινὸν γενέσθαι τὸν ἐνιαυτόν; but we do not know what was the relation between these and the scene described by Ovid.

Who was the Anna Perenna in whose honour these revels, sacrifices, and prayers took place, whatever their relation to each other? Ovid and Silius Italicus[132] tell legends about her which are hardly genuine Italian, and in which Anna Perenna is confused with the other Anna whom they knew, the sister of Dido. Hidden under such stories may sometimes be found traces of a belief or a cult of which we have no other knowledge; but in this poetical medley there seems to be only one feature that calls on us to pause. After her wanderings Anna disappears in the waters of the river Numicius:

Corniger hanc cupidis rapuisse Numicius undis Creditur, et stagnis occuluisse suis.

Her companions traced her footsteps to the bank: she seemed to tell them

Placidi sum nympha Numici, Amne perenne latens Anna Perenna vocor.

This tale led Klausen[133] into some very strange fancies about the goddess, whom he regarded as a water-nymph, thinking that all her other characteristics (e.g. the year) might be explained symbolically; the running water representing the flow of time, &c. But it is probable that she only came into connexion with the river Numicius because Aeneas was there already. If Aeneas, as Jupiter Indiges, was buried on its banks[134], what could be more natural than that another figure of the Dido legend should be brought there too? There does not indeed seem to be any reason for connecting the real Anna Perenna with water[135]. All genuine Roman tradition seems to represent her, as we shall see directly, as an old woman; and when she appears in another shape, she must have become mixed up with other ideas and stories. It may perhaps be just possible that on this day some kind of an image of her may have been thrown into the Tiber, as was the case with the straw puppets (Argei) on May 15, and that the ceremony dropped out of practice, but just survived in the Numicius legend[136]. But this is simply hypothesis.

The fact is that, whatever else Anna Perenna may have been, all that we can confidently say of her is that she represented in some way the circle or ring of the year. This is indicated not only by the name, which can hardly be anything but a feminine form of _annus_, but by the time at which her festival took place, the first full moon of the new year. The one legend preserved about her which is of undoubted Italian origin is thought to point in the same direction. Ovid, wishing to explain ‘cur cantent obscena puellae’ in that revel of the ‘plebs’ on the Tiber-bank, tells us[137] how Mars, once in love with Minerva[138], came to Anna and asked her aid. It was at length granted, and Mars had the nuptial couch prepared: thither a bride was led, but not the desired one; it was old Anna with her face veiled like a bride who was playing the passionate god such a trick as we may suppose not uncommon in the rude country life of old Latium.

There is no need to be startled at the rude handling of the gods in this story, which seems so unlike the stately and orderly ideas of Roman theology. It must be borne in mind that folk-tales like this need not originally have been applied to the gods at all. They are probably only ancient country stories of human beings, based on some rude marriage custom—stories such as delighted the lower farm folk and slaves on holiday evenings; and they have survived simply because they became in course of time attached to the persons of the gods, as the conception of divinities grew to be more anthropomorphic. Granted that Anna or Perenna[139] was the old woman of the _past_ year, that Mars was the god of the first month, and that the story as applied to human beings was a favourite one, we can easily understand how it came to attach itself to the persons of the gods[140].

Yet another story is told by Ovid of an Anna[141], in writing of whom he does not add the name Perenna. The Plebs had seceded to the Mons Sacer, and were beginning to suffer from starvation, when an old woman from Bovillae, named Anna, came to the rescue with a daily supply of _rustica liba_. This myth seems to me to have grown out of the custom, to be described directly, of old women[142] selling _liba_ on the 17th (Liberalia), the custom having been transferred to that day through an etymological confusion between _liba_ and _Liberalia_. Usener, however, saw here a connexion between Anna and Annona[143]; and recently it has been suggested that a certain Egyptian Anna, who is said by Plutarch to have invented a mould for bread-baking, may have found her way to Rome through Greek channels[144].

XVI KAL. APR. (MARCH 17). NP.

LIB[ERALIA]. (MAFF. FARN. RUST.) LIB. AG[ONIA]. LIBERO LIB. (CAER.) AG[ONIA]. (VAT.) LIBERO IN CA[PITOLIO]. (FARN.)

This is one of the four days marked AG. or AGON. in the Fasti (Jan. 9, May 21, Dec. 11)[145]. It is curious that on this day two of the old calendars should mark the Liberalia only, and one the Agonia only, and one both. The day was generally known as Liberalia[146]; the other name seems to have been known to the priests only, and more especially to the Salii Collini or Agonenses[147], who must have had charge of the sacrifice. Wissowa seems to be right in thinking (_de Feriis_ xii) that the conjunction of Liberalia and Agonia is purely accidental, and that the day took its common name from the former simply because, as the latter occurred four times in the year, confusion would be likely to arise.

Liber is beyond doubt an old Italian deity, whose true nature, like that of so many others, came to be overgrown with Greek ideas and rites. There is no sign of any connexion between this festival and the cult of Dionysus; hence we infer that there was an old Latin Liber before the arrival of the Greek god in Italy. What this god was, however, can hardly be inferred from his cult, of which we only know a single feature, recorded by Ovid[148]. He tells us that old women, _sacerdotes Liberi_, sat crowned with ivy all about the streets on this day with cakes of oil and honey (_liba_), and a small portable altar (_foculus_), on which to sacrifice for the benefit of the buyer of these cakes. This tells us nothing substantial, and we have to fall back on the name—always an uncertain method. The best authorities seem now agreed in regarding the word Liber (whatever be its etymology) as having something of the same meaning as _genius_, forming an adjective _liberalis_ as _genius_ forms _genialis_, and meaning a creative, productive spirit, full of blessing, and so generous, free, &c.[149] If this were so it would not be unnatural that the characteristics and rites of Dionysus should find here a stem on which to engraft themselves, or that Liber should become the object of obscene ceremonies which need not be detailed here, and also the god of the Italian vine-growers.

It is possible that Liber may have been an ancient cult-title of Jupiter; we do in fact find a Jupiter Liber in inscriptions, though the combination is uncommon[150]. In that case Liber may have been an emanation or off-shoot from Jupiter, as Silvanus probably was from Mars[151]. But I am disposed to think that the characteristics of Liber, so far as we know them, are not in keeping with those of Jupiter; and that the process was rather of the opposite kind, that is, the cult of Liber in its later form became attached to that of Jupiter, who was always the presiding deity of vineyards and wine-making[152].

This was also the usual day on which boys assumed the toga virilis (toga recta, pura, _libera_):

Restat ut inveniam quare toga libera detur Lucifero pueris, candide Bacche, tuo.

Sive quod es Liber, vestis quoque libera per te Sumitur et vitae liberioris iter[153].

We know indeed that in the late Republic and Empire other days were used for this ceremony: Virgil took his toga on Oct. 15, Octavian on Oct. 18, Tiberius on April 24, Nero on July 7[154]; but it is likely that this day was in earlier times the regular one, in spite of the inconvenience of a disparity of age thence resulting amongst the tirones. For whether or no the _toga libera_ has any real connexion with the Liberalia, this was the time when the army was called out for the year, and when the tirones would be required to present themselves[155]. Ovid tells us that on this day the rustic population flocked into the city for the Liberalia, and the opportunity was doubtless taken to make known the list of tirones, as the boys were called when the toga was assumed and they were ready for military service.

They sacrificed, it appears, before leaving home and again on the Capitol, either to Pubertas or Liber, or both[156].

On this day also, according to Ovid, and also on the previous one, some kind of a procession ‘went to the Argei’[157]; by which word is meant, we may be almost sure, the Argeorum sacella. There were in various parts of the four regions of the Servian city a number of sacella or sacraria, which were called Argei, Argea, or Argeorum sacella. What these were we never shall know for certain; but we may be fairly sure that their number was twenty-four, six for each region; the same number as that of the rush puppets or simulacra also called Argei, which were thrown into the Tiber by the Vestal Virgins on May 15. The identity of the name and number leads to the belief that there was a connexion between these sacella and the simulacra; but the very difficult questions which arose about both must be postponed till we have before us the whole of the ceremonial, i. e. that of May 15 as well as that of March 17. About this last we know nothing and can at best attempt to infer its character from the ceremony in May, of which we fortunately have some particulars on which we can fully rely.

KAL. XIV APR. (MARCH 19). NP CAER. VAT. N. MAFF.

QUINQ[VATRUS]. (CAER. MAFF. PRAEN. VAT. FARN.) QUINQUATRIA. (RUST. PHIL. SILV.)

A note is appended in Praen., which is thus completed by Mommsen with the help of a Verrian gloss (Fest. 254).

[RECTIUS TAMEN ALII PUTARUNT DICTUM AB EO QUOD HIC DIES EST POST DIEM V IDUS. QUO]D IN LATIO POST [IDUS DIES SIMILI FERE RATIONE DECLI]NARENTUR.

FERIAE MARTI (VAT.)

[SALI] FACIUNT IN COMITIO SALTUS [ADSTANTIBUS PO]NTIFICIBUS ET TRIB[UNIS] CELER[UM]. Praen., in which we find yet another note: ARTIFICUM DIES [QUOD MINERVAE] AEDIS IN AVENTINO EO DIE EST [DEDICATA].

The original significance of this day is indicated by the note Feriae Marti in Vat., and also by that in Praen., which has been amplified with tolerable certainty. The Salii were active this day in the worship of Mars, and the scene of their activity was the _Comitium_. With this agrees, as Mommsen has pointed out, the statement of Varro[158] that the _Comitium_ was the scene of some of their performances, though he does not mention which. More light is thrown on the matter by the grammarian Charisius[159], who, in suggesting an explanation of the name Quinquatrus by which this day was generally known, remarks that it was derived from a verb _quinquare_, to purify, ‘quod eo die arma ancilia lustrari sint solita.’ His etymology is undoubtedly wrong, but the reason given for it is valuable[160]. The ancilia were purified on this day (perhaps by the Salii dancing around them), and thus it exactly answers to the Armilustrium on Oct. 19, just as the horse-races on the Ides of March, if that indeed were the original day, correspond to the ceremony of the ‘October horse’[161].

The object and meaning of the lustratio in each case is not, however, quite clear. Since in March the season of war began, and ended, no doubt, originally in October[162], and as the Salii seem to be a kind of link between the religious and military sides of the state’s life, we are tempted to guess that the lustration of the ancilia represented in some way the lustration of the arms of the entire host, or perhaps that the latter were all lustrated so as to be ready for use, on this day, and once again on Oct. 19 before they were put away for the winter. In this latter case the Salii would be the leaders of, as well as sharers in, a general purifying process. And that this is the right view seems to be indicated by Verrius’ note in the Praenestine calendar, from which it is clear that the _tribuni celerum_ were present, and took some part in the ceremony. These tribuni were almost certainly the three leaders of the original cavalry force of the three ancient tribes, and they seem to have united both priestly and military characteristics[163]; and from their presence in the Comitium may perhaps also be inferred that of the leaders of the infantry _tribuni militum_. In the earliest times, therefore, the arms of the whole host may have been lustrated in the presence of its leaders, the Salii, so to speak, performing the service; but in later times the Salii alone were left, and their arms alone lustrated, though possibly individuals representing the ancient _tribuni celerum_ may have appeared as congregation.

But this day was generally known as Quinquatrus, simply because it was the fifth day after the Ides[164]; i.e. there was a space of three days between the Ides and the festival. Such intervals of three days, either between the Ides and the festival or between one festival and another, occur several times in the Roman calendar[165], though in this instance alone the day following the interval appears in the calendars as Quinquatrus. The term was no doubt a pontifical one, and the meaning was unknown to the common people; in any case it came to be misunderstood, and was in later times popularly applied to the four days following the festival as well as the festival itself; its first syllable being taken to indicate a five-day period instead of the fifth day after the Ides. This popular mistake led to still further confusion owing to a curious change in the religious character of these days, about the nature of which there can be no serious doubt.

The 19th came to be considered as sacred to Minerva[166], because a temple to that goddess was consecrated on this day, on the Caelian or the Aventine, or possibly both[167]. There is no obvious connexion between Mars and Minerva; and it is now thought probable that Minerva has here simply taken the place of another goddess, Nerio—one almost lost to sight in historical times, but of whose early connexion with Mars some faint traces are to be found. Thus where we find Minerva brought into close relation with Mars, as in the myth of Anna Perenna, it is thought that we should read Nerio instead of Minerva[168]. This conclusion is strengthened by a note of Porphyrion on Horace _Epist._ ii. 2. 209 ‘Maio mense religio est nubere, et etiam Martio, in quo de nuptiis habito certamine a Minerva Mars victus est: obtenta virginitate Neriene est appellata.’ As Neriene must = Nerio[169], this looks much like an attempt to explain the occurrence of two female names, Minerva and Nerio, in the same story; the original heroine, Nerio, having been supplanted by the later Minerva[170].

Of this Nerio much, perhaps too much, has been made in recent years by ingenious scholars. A complete love-story has been discovered, in which Mars, at first defeated in his wooing, as Porphyrion tells us in the passage just quoted, eventually becomes victorious; for Nerio is called wife of Mars in a fragment of an old comedy by Licinius Imbrex, in a passage of Plautus, and in a prayer put into the mouth of Hersilia by Gellius the annalist, when she asked for peace at the hand of T. Tatius[171]. And this story has been fitted on, without sufficient warrant, to the Mars-festivals of this month. Mars is supposed to have been born on the Kalends, to have grown wondrously between Kalends and Ides, to have fallen then in love with Nerio, to have been fooled as we saw by Anna Perenna, to have been rejected and defeated by his sweetheart, and finally to have won her as his wife on the 19th[172]. Are we to find here a fragment of real Italian mythology, or an elaborate example of the Graecizing anthropomorphic tendencies of the third and second centuries B.C.?

The question is a difficult one, and lies rather outside the scope of this work. Those who have read Usener’s brilliant paper will find it hard to shake themselves free of the conviction that he has unearthed a real myth, unless they carefully study the chapter of Aulus Gellius which is its chief foundation. Such a study has brought me back to the conviction that Plautus and the others were writing in terms of the fashionable modes of thought of their day, and were not appealing to popular ideas of the relations of Italian deities to each other[173]. Aulus Gellius begins by quoting a _comprecatio_ from the book of the _Libri sacerdotum populi Romani_. ‘In his scriptum est: Luam Saturni, Salaciam Neptuni, Horam Quirini, Virites Quirini, Maiam Volcani, Heriem Iunonis, Moles Martis Nerienemque Martis.’ A glance at the names thus coupled together is enough to show that Mars is not here thought of as the husband of Neriene; the names Lua, Salacia, &c., seem rather to express some characteristic of the deity with whose name they are joined or some mode of his operation[174]; and Gellius himself, working on an etymology of Nerio which has generally been accepted as correct, explains the name thus: ‘Nerio igitur Martis vis et potentia et maiestas quaedam esse Martis demonstratur.’ In the latter part of his chapter, after quoting Plautus, he says that he has heard the poet blamed by an eminent critic for the strange and false notion that Nerio was the wife of Mars; but he is inclined to think that there was a real tradition to that effect, and cites his namesake the annalist and Licinius Imbrex in support of his view.

But neither annalist nor play-writer can stand against that passage from the sacred books with which he began his chapter; and if we give the latter its due weight, the value of the others is relatively diminished. It appears to me that the one represents the true primitive Italian idea of divine powers, which with its abundance of names offered excellent opportunities to anthropomorphic tendencies of the Graecizing school, while the others show those tendencies actually producing their results. Any conclusion on the point must be of the nature of a guess; but I am strongly disposed to think (1) that Nerio was not originally an independent deity, but a name attached to Mars expressive of some aspect of his power, (2) that the name gradually became endowed with personality, and (3) that out of the combination of Mars and Nerio the Graecizing school developed a myth of which the fragments have been taken by Usener and his followers as pure Roman.

Having once been displaced by Minerva, Nerio vanished from the calendar, and with her that special aspect of Mars—whatever it may have been—which the name was intended to express. The five days, 18th to 23rd, became permanently associated with Minerva. The 19th was the dedication-day of at least one of her temples, and counted as her birthday[175]: the 23rd was the Tubilustrium, with a sacrifice to ‘dea fortis,’ who seems to have been taken for Minerva, owing to an incorrect idea that the latter was specially the deity of trumpet-players[176]. She was no doubt an old Italian deity of artificers and trade-guilds; but the Tubilustrium was really a Mars-festival, and Minerva had no immediate connexion with it.

X KAL. APR. (MARCH 23). NP.

TUBILUST[RIUM]. (CAER. MAFF. VAT. FARN. MIN. III.) TUBILUSTRIUM. (PHILOC.)

Note in Praen.: [FERIAE] MARTI[177]. HIC DIES APPELLATUR ITA, QUOD IN ATRIO SUTORIO TUBI LUSTRANTUR, QUIBUS IN SACRIS UTUNTUR. LUTATIUS QUIDEM CLAVAM EAM AIT ESSE IN RUINIS PALA[TI I]NCENSI A GALLIS REPERTAM, QUA ROMULUS URBEM INAUGURAVERIT.

IX KAL. APR. (MARCH 24). NP.

Q. R. C. F. (VAT. CAER.)

Q. REX. C. F. (MAFF. PRAEN.)

Note in Praen.: HUNC DIEM PLERIQUE PERPERAM INTERPRETANTES PUTANT APPELLAR[I] QUOD EO DIE EX COMITIO FUGERIT [REX: N]AM NEQUE TARQUINIUS ABIIT EX COMITIO [URBIS], ET ALIO QUOQUE MENSE EADEM SUNT [IDEMQUE S]IGNIFICANT. QU[ARE COMITIIS PERACTIS IUDICI]A FIERI INDICA[RI IIS MAGIS PUTAMUS][178].

These two days must be taken in connexion with the 23rd and 24th of May, which are marked in the calendars in exactly the same way. The explanation suggested by Mommsen is simple and satisfactory[179]; the 24th of March and of May were the two fixed days on which the _comitia curiata_ met for the sanctioning of wills[180] under the presidency of the Rex. The 23rd in each month, called Tubilustrium, would be the day of the lustration of the _tubae_ or _tubi_ used in summoning the assembly. The letters Q. R. C. F. (quando rex comitiavit fas) mean that on the days so marked proceedings in the courts might only begin when the king had dissolved the Comitia.