Divine Arianrhod, Beloved Goddess.Your truth is an inspiration to all living beings.As you weave the light and the dark so do you scatter.Joy is in …
Praise Arianrhod by Diane Finkle Perazzo
Praise Arianrhod by Diane Finkle Perazzo
Celtic Goddess Branwen: A Path to Empathy by Judith Shaw
From the mists of Welsh mythology Celtic Goddess Branwen provides important wisdom for our modern world. Themes of the destructiveness caused by …
Celtic Goddess Branwen: A Path to Empathy by Judith Shaw
Gay Frogs Are Everywhere & I lost faith in humanity
So I’m sick. And I have been given penicillin. Problem is it’s in powder form. And supposed to be taken with the proper amount of water measured by the pharmacist. Because if I don’t, I could accidentally overdose if the water measurement is off.
So I tried doing a little research on the matter to find the proper amount I might need. Yeah I know I’m not supposed to do that. But I feel like fucking shit. Sue me. So……..tried to figure out the measurement right?
I’m doing an internet search. And I haven’t finished typing what I was searching for when this shit came out,
For those who don’t know, this is a thing among Republicans. The idea that Obama was responsible for putting chemicals in the water that make people gay. And that frogs were going gay because of the Pentagon created a “gay bomb”. It’s actually one of the funniest self created memes ever.
The problem is, so many people believe it. And from what I can see even typing in something about water, brings this out in the search bar. Alex Jones is the one who “reported” on this on his insane show on 2015. I have to say, the man is one of the greatest accidental comedians in history.
you can’t make this shit up folks, well actually you can, cause he’s making it up
And now I give you a musical tribute to insanity, cause why the fuck not? I’ve already lost my faith in humanity.
Yep, no faith left in humanity,
– M
Polar Bear Moon
Pacing the night sky, polar bear moon mother frets mouthing face and neck.
Polar Bear Moon
On this Virgo Full Moon, let us never forget Erigone the Virgin and her loved ones (The story of Virgo)
Erigone was the daughter of the shepard Icarius. Who hanged herself over her father’s grave. You see there were two people in Ancient Greece named Icarius. One was the guy who flew too close to the sun. But the other one was a loyal worshipper of Dionysus, this simple shepard.
A man whose humility and love won over his God, Dionysus.
He was friends with Dionysus. And so Dionysus gave him the gift of wine. Which he shared with his friends. But the other shepards got drunk. They had never felt an intoxication like this before.
And then later they got sexually aroused.
So they assumed Icarius poisoned them. They found and murdered him. His poor child, the maiden Erigone found his body while she was with her dog Maerus. And in grief she hanged herself over her father’s body. To make it worse even her dog Maerus died.
Maerus threw himself into a well and drowned.
Dionysus was so angry with this injustice that he cast a powerful curse upon all of Athens. All the unmarried women would hang themselves. Just like Erigone. The plague only stopped when the priests gave titles of honor to Icarius and Erigone. Making them heroes, which is the Greek and Roman versions of saints.
It’s said that soon after, Zeus or Dionysus raised one or both of them to the stars.
And they became the constellation Boötes. And so now you know the story of Virgo the Virgin. Don’t forget to light candles in her memory. And in memory of that faithful shepard and faithful hound. Three who are so beloved amongst the Gods.
Maelvus
Dionysus, Erigone, and Icarius courtesy of
Greek Mythology Blog
– M
The Greek Anthesteria Day 3 : Chytroi and the Roman Caristia & Terminalia
Hearthe Moon Rising
Sorry I took this long to finish. All of this actually ended on Thursday. But I was so busy with the rituals. Plus spending time with my family which is what the Caristia is about. Then of course watching Avatar the Last Airbender on Netflix.
Then of course there is the ongoing mass murder of Palestinian families which has me horrified. And that opens up a whole other can of worms. Since DeSantis is trying to stop any and all protests here. But imagine this is Thursday. Because I am writing all of this to finish the Anthesteria and Parentalia series.
This is the final day of the Anthesteria, and like the Roman Feralia of the other day, this is the day to send the dead packing. The shades of the dead are adjured to depart with one final offering. An offering to Hermes Chthonios. The pots mentioned here were literal pots. That were filled with cooked food for Hermes.
And would be left in crossroads. The dead would follow in tow, and he would share the dish with them. When they finished eating, Hermes Chthonios would escort them back to their own realm. Until the next festival of the dead took place. Until this was done, there would still be a few shades of the dead wandering around.
And you had to be careful none of them stayed behind. You wouldn’t want them to stay in your house. Remember the dead are still roaming the Earth. This isn’t the time to let your guard down. If anything it’s time to double down on your ward in and cleansing.
Now there seems to be a really weird controversy. Some people think it’s okay to eat the food in the panspermia (pot). It’s only when you put it at the crossroads that it becomes the final offering for the dead. So some Hellenists are doing that now. Others refrain.
I say hell to the no. Are you crazy? You wanna get possessed by a shade? In the end it’s a matter of faith. But I’m sticking with what we have always believed. I am not touching what’s in those pots. It’s cooked just for them.
Not for us. I won’t even let my animals eat what’s there. The dead can possess any number of wild animals in the crossroads. But the mainstream academic traditions have always said No. That the Greeks never touched the food in those pots.
But I leave it to all of you. It’s said that the moment you leave the panspermia at the crossroads the negativity is lifted. For Hermes and the dead will absorb all of it out of your house. So you can go uncover your shrines. It’s said that when before you give the offerings to Hermes at the crossroads, you open your front door and say,
“Out the door Keres! Anthesteria is over!”
Signaling to the spirits of death to take their leave. And take the ghosts with them. It’s a funny footnote in history, but this also became a popular saying. Whenever someone constantly asked for favors in Ancient Greece, people would say that to them. Likening them to the Keres or the ghosts that were harassing people.
Games and celebrations continued to this day as in the previous two days. The only difference is that there were no performances in theaters.
Rehearsals were allowed though.
” Cooked fruit of all kinds was offered to Mercury, in his capacity of a god of the lower world; rejoicings and games were held; and though no tragedy was allowed to be performed in the theatre, there was yet a sort of rehearsal, at which the players for the ensuing dramatic festival were selected, “
Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition/Anthesteria
Eggs, leeks, and garlic also work according to Baring the Aegis. The Brittanica website says they were “pots of seed or bran”. Some say that the food was cooked legumes. Also the “pots” were actually pots. They were large vases such as the ones you have been seeing in the images lately.
And they were usually filled with wine. But in this case they were filled with the food offerings mentioned above.
” Chytroi or stamnoiwere placed at the Marshes among the springs, and filled with wine and fresh cold water, and the hangovers from the day before were soon cured. Then the worshipers set out through the streets, singing or shouting in praise of Dionysos, “
Encyclopedia.com | Anthesteria
So I was right, there really were marshes they went to. The people went to the Acropolis. Which was a sort of high place and citadel over the city. And there many people were entertained by singers and dancers called ithyphalloi, who acted like drunken fools. They had singing and dance competitions.
They rode into the city with a large wooden pole made to look like an erect penis. In honor of Dionysus. These revelers of Dionysus became the origin of many actors on stage even today. Now all of this is the attic version of the Anthesteria. The one celebrated in Athens.
Even after Greece was merged under one rule (a bad idea if you ask me) every city continued their own traditions. Women and young girls also took babies to the countryside. And spoiled them rotten. Gave them everything. Cuddled them.
Mothers even breast fed them. This was a form of fertility magic. People always associate sex with fertility. But fertility is way more than that. Fertility is the mother and child bonded together for nine months.
The umbilical chord, which symbolizes the physio-spiritual link between humanity and our Mother Earth. The life force in our very veins. And in our very breath. The flowers blooming from the nutrients and vitamins in the soil. Warmed, fed, and nurtured by the light of the sun.
That is fertility. And when these women cared for their children in the woods and the wilds it was magic. A sympathetic magic. If they cared for the child and fed it milk, so too would the withered trees and vines be fed. They would come back to life.
This is based on how the nymphs cared for Dionysus as a baby in the woods. The thing is, he’s torn to pieces by the nymphs and killed. Which leads to him coming back to life again. He is after all, a God. This is probably why he’s such a wild God to begin with.
He’s a strange God of shamanism and shape shifting. A God of necromancy and animancy. A God who is both dead and alive. Heavenly and of the underworld. Of nature.
He’s everything.
As with most festivals, there were public rituals and mystery rituals. But the women would also run and howl like animals. This was an animal mystery of Dionysus. They would take a rod and “festoon” it. Decorate it with ivy and pinecones. This rod, known as the Thyrsos, would symbolized new growth.
But given what we know of Dionysus, it probably represented, you guessed it, a penis. Plus the part about “beating” the ground which normally nature is seen as a woman. Well, I think we all get the symbolism right? “Beating it” to revitalize nature.
Caristia
(Cari Parentes, Cara Cognatio)
The day of the living parents.
For many Romans, this was the real final day of the Parentalia. The Feralia ended the somber, chthonic associations with the ancestors. But the Caristia was a festival of the all the family. Living and dead.
With an emphasis on the living. Ancestors did get offerings. But it was because they were part of the family. The Lares, the twin children of Mercury and Dea Tacita, and other household Gods were worshipped. So initial offerings were given to them and the ancestors.
Then the parties began.
While the Greeks had fun during their Anthesteria for three days, the Romans had nine days of serious devotion. Devotion to the ancestors. And warding themselves from evil. They also shut down businesses and government buildings like the Greeks. And like them, also covered their images of the Gods.
They did have familial reunions. Most of which were at the tombs. Where they spent time having picnics with the dead as I mentioned before. So the Caristia was their day to let loose. To relax again.
To purify from all the negative energy of death.
Caristia was when families threw big parties at their houses. They didn’t have to be fancy. What was important was that the family was all together. That they shared meals with each other. Perhaps even stayed home to rest under one roof.
The holiday was observed February 22nd. The day after the Feralia. There were huge banquets for the family. It was supposed to be a day where any animosity in the family was set aside. But the ancients, like us, had those annoying family members who always cause trouble.
So this was better said than done. As family gatherings tended to be rowdy. Because everyone was getting drunk. Especially at family gatherings. Kind of like today.
They had family dinners, bread and wine, and exchanges of gifts. Unfortunately the poor slaves were forced to go back to work. To weight on their masters hand and foot. And on that, I’m sorry but I am about to go on a rant right now. Feel free to skip ahead if you don’t want to read it.
The Slaves & Corrupt Society
But just watching these bastards laugh it up and drink themselves into oblivion like this. It does something to me. They don’t even acknowledge that this poor man exists. Every time I hear someone justify that with “those were different times” I want to smack them in the head. There is no justification for this at any time,
This poor man, hunched over and being worked half to death. While this asshole is harassing him for more wine. And all while the vessel for wine is right in front of him. He could easily do it himself. This is a reminder to all of us worshippers of the old religions.
That the societies of old were not perfect. They may have had some good things. But not everything was good. They were not these perfect utopian societies. Our religions and our societies were two different things.
And of course in some cases, the old governments and societies perverted our religions. Used them as a tool of oppression against the people. That’s why everyone should remember :
What the conservative far right Christians of today are doing, is what many old religions of old were doing. Not because the Gods ordered it done. But because humans, specifically wealthy and powerful humans, did it in their names. So remember that Christianity isn’t the true enemy. Our common enemy are the wealthy elites of the world.
Whenever they read the room, and realize they need to change tactics and rhetoric, to change to what’s more popular. In the old years they were openly corrupt and reactionary. Today they hide behind liberalism and identity politics to be “hip” with the new generation. I’m sorry to get side tracked, but it needs to be pointed out. Because too many believers of the ancient faiths romanticize those times.
Sex with a slave wasn’t even considered sex. It was considered the same as masturbation. Because the slave was nothing but an extension of his or her master. That’s a disgusting way to view another human being. And we’re headed for the same thing in our own society pretty soon.
This is a reminder of why those societies collapsed. No it wasn’t because they were Pagan. No it wasn’t because they legalized homosexuality as many Christians assert. It’s because they were a crooked slave and classist society. Never forget that.
The Celebrations
Trying to move on with the rest of the accounts, food and incense was offered to the Lares. It’s similar to what we Santeros do. We often place food offerings in sealed bags or plates for our Orishas. Or for our dead. And incense is always a good offering.
It’s amazing how some things transcend cultures.
Essential to the Caristia is the concept of Concordia or concord. Absolutely no one is supposed to bring up any past disagreements. Or argue. But this was hard to do. Because there were dysfunctional families.
There were even jokes, that certain family members would be excluded from the celebrations. In order to make sure the spirit of concordia would be respected. According to Valerius Maximus, some people were even given the job of peacemaker. To act as intermediaries between angry family members. To make sure everyone would bury the hatchet for the sake of the family.
Ovid also says that the ‘dis generis ‘or deified ancestors were given libations. Whether these are the same as the Lares, or a different type of God is a mystery to me. I have to do more research. But it is possible these were normal human ancestors that became God or Demi Gods in the afterlife. But take my word with a grain of salt.
Eventually this feast was absorbed by the (Nicean) Catholic Church. A corrupt form of the original Catholic Church, controlled by the Emperor Constantine. And as I mentioned before, religion was used as a tool to oppress the people. They changed this holiday to suit their needs. This was part of their work to forcibly convert believers of the old faith.
” The Christian calendar of Polemius Silvius, from the middle of the fifth century, mentions the feast with the name of Cara Cognatio and superimposes it with that of the burial of St. Peter and St. Paul. Finally, in the sixth century, the songs, dances and libations that accompanied this feast aroused accusations of paganism until, in 567, the Council of Tours condemned these practices with the accusation of desecrating St. Peter’s Day, “
La Cronaca di Roma (The Chronicles of Rome) | Caristia
The Terminalia
Now I personally consider this to be the true end of the Parentalia. It is dedicated to Jupiter Terminalis. Also known as Jupiter Terminus. Or simply Terminus. He was the God of boundaries.
Often protecting people from both the natural and the supernatural.
The pictures always show Terminus as a pole with a bust of him on top. Usually the pictures of the markers with the busts of Terminus have a saying : Concedo nvlli or concedo nulli. This means “I yield to no one”. But more often than not these were just regular wood or stone posts. Markers for the boundaries of roads and fields.
Or at least that’s what I assumed at first, that they would always be made out of wood. But the ancient Roman gromaticus (land surveyor) named Siculus Flaccus says something different. In his work De condicionibus agrorum (agricultural land conditions) he says,
” All those things that we have mentioned above relate to stone borders, whether they are required to submit signs, whether they are characters or letters or numbers, should all be looked at as much as possible according to the custom of the regions: nevertheless, these novelties also ought to have faith in what is understood to be the energy and fitness of its owners. But if the wooden stakes are arranged as boundaries, or the accumulation of stones accumulated, which scorpions call ‘scorpions’, or in the form of partitions called ‘mattresses’, or the tops of tankers marked with natural rocks, or anything else that will seem to be observed in place of the landmark should be taken as examples from the customs of the region and from neighboring countries, “
De condicionibus agrorum (agricultural land conditions) | Siculus Flaccus
So he actually describes several different forms of terminus or boundary markers. And apparently they came in different styles. Even being rock piles. So they weren’t always made out of wood. Or even posts.
So the terminus (boundary markers) could have been anything that was used to mark the boundaries. Even a tree or a large stone. They could be natural boundaries. Perhaps even a River could have been used in some cases. So the representation of the Terminus spirit or God could take any form.
And was virtually impossible to always identify.
Offerings were brought to these posts to sanctify them in Terminus’ name. It can be argued that this is an animistic form of Jupiter. When people think of Gods, they normally think of human or animal shaped Gods. But not everyone stops to think a God could appear as a stone, a tree, or even a place. But remember that even the (main) Hebrew God appeared as a burning bush to Moshe (Moses).
In fact “terminus” was the Latin word for a boundary stone. So this was Jupiter taking the form of a boundary marker. Although it’s also possible Terminus is a separate God altogether.
The Sacrifice
The way the ritual for sanctification was done is like this. Ovid says in his Fasti, says that,
” When the night had passed, see to it that the God who marks the boundaries of the tilled lands receives his wonted honour. O Terminus, whether thou art a stone or stump buried in the field, thou too hast been Deified from days of yore. Thou art crowned by two owners on opposite sides; they bring thee two garlands and two cakes. An altar is built. Hither the husbandman’s rustic wife brings with her own hands on a potsherd the fire which she has taken from the warm hearth.
The old man chops wood, and deftly piles up the billets, and strives to fix the branches in the solid earth. Then he nurses the kindling flames with dry bark, the boy stands by and holds the broad basket in his hands. When from the basket he had thrice thrown corn into the midst of the fire, the little daughter presents the cut honeycombs. Others hold vessels of wine. A portion of each is cast into the flames.
The company dressed in white look on and hold their peace. Terminus himself, at the meeting of the bounds, is sprinkled with the blood of a slaughtered lamb, and grumbles not when a suckling pig is given him. The simple neighbours meet and hold a feast, and sing thy praises, holy Terminus:
‘ Thou dost set bounds to peoples and cities and vast kingdoms; without thee every field would be a root of wrangling. Thou courtest no favour thou art bribed by no gold: the lands entrusted to thee thou dost guard in loyal good faith. If thou of old hadst marked the bounds of the Thyrean land, three hundred men had not been done to death, nor had the name of Othryades been read on the piled arms,’ ”
Fasti | Ovid | XII. KAL. 23rd
What’s interesting here is that Ovid says, “thou too hast been deified from days of yore,” which makes me think. Perhaps originally, Terminus was the spirit of the boundaries. Not Jupiter himself. He became deified.
And then afterwords was conflated with Jupiter. Or likewise, Jupiter could have created a new avatar or incarnation of himself. Becoming himself the God of the boundaries. So he became Jupiter Terminalis. That’s just what I suspect.
Another line I didn’t include that comes from the same section says Terminus was honored “alongside Jupiter”. So maybe on the Terminalia we have two beings being honored. That I leave to you. For me, there is Terminus (Jupiter) and another God which is the living embodiment of all boundary markers. It does seem that others believed Terminus was a separate deity from Jupiter.
Specifically that Terminus is a Sabine God. Many claim it was the Sabine successor of Romulus, Numa Pompilius, who brought the cult of Terminus to Rome. It was said that this was as a way for him to stop violence. And settle disputes over whose land was whose. Terminus in this way functions as a law giver.
The sacrifice is also done using a small campfire and tossing the offerings inside. So this is a type of Roman burnt offering. It mentions covering his image or boundary stone in the blood of a piglet. So the piglet was probably killed with a knife. And it’s blood is sprinkled on the image.
And the rest of the offerings were tossed in fire. Honeycombs, wine, and some of whatever crops they were growing. Terminus and Jupiter Terminus. Then Siculus Flaccus also adds that the sacrifice also included the bones and ash of the sacrificed animal. When the fire was put out, the remains of the offerings were placed into a hole.
On the boundary that divided two or more estates. And then the terminus or marker, as an idol of the Terminus spirit or Jupiter Terminalis, was laid on top. This was how the spirit and God ate. There’s not enough information to say for sure that they’re separate entities. It could just be Jupiter himself as the living embodiment of boundaries.
Since he was the Supreme God, the law was under his control. So he would naturally be the boundary marker itself. Animal sacrifices may also have not originally been a part of Terminus’ cult. Plutarch said that blood sacrifices weren’t a part of Terminus’ early worship. Because Terminus is a God of peace.
” 15 1 Why is it that they were wont to sacrifice no living creature to Terminus,23 in whose honour they held the Terminalia, although they regard him as a god?
p. 29 Is it that Romulus placed no boundary-stones for his country, so that Romans might go forth, seize land, and regard all as theirs, as the Spartan said,
24 which their spears could reach; whereas Numa Pompilius, 25 a just man and a statesman, who had become versed in philosophy, marked out the boundaries between Rome and her neighbours, and,
when on the boundary-stones he had formally installed Terminus as overseer and guardian of friendship and peace, he thought that Terminus should be kept pure and undefiled from blood and gore? “
Plutarch, Moralia | Roman Questions
At the end of this, a familial feast was done for the honor of Terminus. Maybe even neighbors gathered together in praise of him. They would also decorate each side of the marker with garlands.
Public Rituals
There was also a more public version of the ritual done by the Roman government. Where a sheep was killed for the terminus marker on the Via Laurentina (Laurentine way). As well as another celebration in the temple of Jupiter Optimus Maximus. Where the temple had a hole in the roof for Terminus. Because the God demands to be outside.
So if you have his idol inside you need some kind of opening for it to “breathe”.
Well, that’s it my friends. May Terminus and all the Gods and spirits of Rome bless and protect you!
– M
Sources :
1) Anthesteria: Ancient Festival of Dionysus, the Wine God
3) Anthesteria (Greek festival)
4) Celebrating the Anthesteria – Baring the Aegis
5) The Greek Day of the Dead: the Anthesteria of Dionysus
6) Libations And The Ancient History Of Pouring One Out
8) Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition/Anthesteria
9) Everyone Was Drinking! Inside an Ancient 3-Day Festival of Wine
10) Anthesteria: A 3-Day Festival of Wine in Ancient Greece
12) CARISTIA – Latin Y Roma (Spanish website)
14) Fasti – Ovid
15) De condicionibus agrorum (agricultural land conditions) | Siculus Flaccus
The Greek Anthesteria Day 2 : Choës (The Pouring) & the Roman Feralia : The End of the Anthesteria
Sorry for being so late in writing this post. It’s been a crazy day of celebrating. So this is the second day of the Parentalia and the eve of the last day of the Anthesteria.
First the Anthesteria.
Choës
The Choës was the main day of the Anthesteria. Most of the rituals for this holiday were conducted today. All temples were closed, except Dionysus’ temple. Even the shrines at home were covered. The only shrines not covered were chthonic shrines to the ancestors.
And of course, Dionysus. The revelers were dressed as nature spirits. Men were Satyrs, and women Maenads. Only Dionysus worshippers wore their regular clothing. And of course they all wore garlands.
It was said that uncovered idols would get tainted with miasma. I can tell you that’s true. Because I forgot to cover my damn shrine this year.
This day is similar to yesterday. Everyone parties including the slaves. The drinking cups were replaced with wine-jugs or Choës. The people have silent drinking contests. Visiting the tombs of the dead to pour libations of red wine is also done.
In the old days, Tombs had built in holes that led down to the grave of the dead person. These holes had tubes that connected to the graves, they acted as mouthes for the dead. So they could drink the offering.
Atlas Obscura
Worshippers took this day so seriously. They actually carried their own jars of wine mixed with water. This was an ancient practice done by many people back then, the mixing of wine with water. The drinking contest was done with pure unmixed wine however. People would also go door to door to visit friends and family.
So they could all drink and make merry. Other times there were actual drinking clubs to organize the parties and contests. And whoever won the contest, would be given the prize of a free wineskin. The Archōn Basileus oversaw this event.
“Listen-up, people! In accordance with the ways of our ancestors, drink the chous on the sound of the trumpet! And he who downs it first will take away a wineskin…” – Aristophanes, Acharnians, 1000-1002
The Unknown Rite
There was also a type of politico-religious ritual conducted in the senate house. There would be a ceremonial marriage. The wife of the chief magistrate of Athens, would be named the Basilinna or Basilissa. She would be the priestess queen. She would be married in the ritual to the Archōn Basileus.
The priest king.
The chief magistrate himself would assume the role of Dionysus. So he would ritually represent the God. While his wife represented Ariadne. The Gerarai or Geraerae, were fourteen matrons of Athens, were chosen by the magistrate to act as assistants for the rituals. The matrons were chosen in secret by the priest king.
At the end of day the people would take the garlands they wore for Dionysus’ honor, and wrap them around the wine jugs. These jugs would be taken to the priestess. Who in turn would take it to the Limnaios (marshes). There was also a secret ritual to Dionysus. We don’t really know anything about it.
Except that the state organized it.
We know that Dionysus had some kind of secret sanctuary “in the marshes”. Except Athens doesn’t have marshes in it or around it. At least not that’s close by. I have a personal theory. I think they made a small pilgrimage.
And went to the marshes far from the city for the completion of this ritual. And there, they celebrated all sorts of secret ceremonies. Ceremonies that were known only to those initiated into Dionysus’ mysteries. Others seem to think the sanctuary of Dionysus was in the Lenaeum. Which was a theatre company.
But this online encyclopedia actually states that it was an actual marsh. With Dionysus’ sanctuary being located in an area of springs beside the river Ilissos. Which lends credence to my theory that they actually left the city to go to a real marsh. That this was a place in nature that was sacred to Dionysus. These rites were also important kinship rituals for both men and women.
Young boys for example as young as three, were given little wine jugs. Obviously, there was no wine on those jugs. At least not that’s mentioned anywhere. They were instead symbols of the sacred masculine through Dionysus. It meant that the boy was taken in by the father’s social group as part of the Kin.
An initiation for his children. The Anthesteria was an important event for children. Which is why there are so many depictions of kids on the wine jugs. Likewise, young girls would also do special rites. They would swing from trees.
And decorate them to remember the death of Erigone.
Heroes of the Festival
Erigone was the daughter of Icarius. Who hanged herself over her father’s body. You see there were two people in Ancient Greece named Icarius. One was the guy who flew too close to the sun. But the other was a shepard.
He was friends with Dionysus. And so Dionysus gave him and Erigone the gift of wine. Which he shared with his friends. But the other shepards got drunk. They had never felt an intoxication like this before.
And then they got sexually aroused.
So they assumed Icarius poisoned them. So they murdered Icarius. His poor daughter, the maiden Erigone found his body while she was with her dog Maerus. And in grief she hanged herself over his body. To make it worse even her dog Maerus died.
Maerus threw himself into a well and drowned.
Dionysus was so angry that he cast a powerful curse upon all of Athens. All the unmarried women would hang themselves. Just like Erigone. The plague only stopped when the priests gave titles of honor to Icarius and Erigone. Making them heroes, which is the Greek and Roman versions of saints.
It’s said that soon after, Zeus or Dionysus raised one or both of them to the stars.
And they became the constellation Boötes.
Then we also have Orestes, whose mother killed his father Agamemnon. Now if you ever read the story of the Trojan war, you know that Agamemnon was a monster. Who burnt Troy to the ground. And he raped the then Princess Clytemnestra. Then forced her to become his Queen.
Despite the rape and forced marriage, she originally resigned herself to her fate. Until Agamemnon sacrificed their daughter Iphigenia to Artemis. In order to make the winds favorable for the ships to sail to Troy for war. That’s when she decided she would finally free herself from her slavery to this man and avenge her child. So she conspired with Agamemnon’s cousin, Aegisthus.
They became lovers, and plotted his death at the conclusion of the Trojan war. Aegisthus’ father was murdered by Atreus, Agamemnon’s father. So Aegisthus wanted some pay back against that side of the family. Clytemnestra waited till he was in the bath. And then tossed a cloth net over him to keep him immobilized.
Right before stabbing him to death. Orestes, Clytemnestra and Agamemnon’s son, swore vengeance for his father. And killed his mother and her lover. But in doing so he brought his own heartbreak. And was polluted by her death.
It’s even said that the Furies persecuted him. They chased him across the land until he found sanctuary in Athens.
To escape the Furies, he made his way to Athens. A city state where sanctuary was granted to anyone no matter what. But when he got there, nobody wanted to grant him hospitality. Because when a person loses a loved one, or commits any kind of killing, that person is contaminated.
And they need to be decontaminated. Sometimes such contamination is even contagious. But the people felt bad for him. So they arranged for a tavern to have dozens of individual cups that anyone could take. That way he could eat and drink until his contamination passed.
So many of these rituals are still somber because of the deaths of these people. In fact in the case of Orestes, his rite became an official part of the religion while he was still alive.
“I hear that my misfortunes have become a religious rite in Athens, And that they still maintain this custom, And that the people of Pallas honour the cup of the Feast of Pitchers [in reference to the chous and the Anthesteria].” Orestes words recorded, Euripides, Iphigenia in Tauris, 958-960
The Roaming Dead
It was also believed that now the dead were more active than they were on the previous day. Actually walking upon the Earth.
Offerings to Hermes Khthonios was done at the tombs as a way to pacify them. Possibly it was the libation of wine. Though food could also have been offered as a supper.
The Ferālia
The End of the Parentalia
This happened yesterday but I figured I would write about it today.
The Feralia happened on the very last day at midnight. February 21. Magic would be formed at around this time by the elders. Specifically a witch called an Anus Ebria or drunken woman, would cast the magical spells. She was probably intoxicated.
Which again makes me wonder about the Roman and Greek connections to each other. Because as far as I know only in Dionysian rites, are the priests or sorcerers ever drunk. But I have no evidence to back that up. So the ritual formula is as follows. The old woman puts three pieces of incense in a place at the hearth where a dead mouse is buried.
Apparently no one else except her or some of the attendants were meant to know that. The incense had to be placed there with only three of her fingers. More on that later. She has to do this while she rolls seven black beans in her mouth. And then impales a fish head with a bronze needle.
And roasts the ghastly thing in the fire of the hearth. Then out loud she says,
“Hostiles linguas inimicaque uinximus ora,”
(I have gagged spiteful tongues and muzzled unfriendly mouths)
There is such a thing as the evil tongue. Which is sort of like the evil eye. And it goes hand in hand with each other. It’s possible that this was a protection ritual against harmful gossip being spoken about the women in the house. Especially young girls.
The fish on the stick is clearly a fetish. A magical charm that’s alive. And that’s usually supposed to represent a person or thing. Like a totem. And the ritual itself is seems to be both an exorcism and a curse.
Remember an exorcism isn’t always driving out spirits. It’s also breaking curses or averting harmful influences. I suspect the little mouse was a totem being appealed to for the spell. Or he was being used to represent death and silence for Dea Tacita. So the three incense sticks were probably for her.
Or it could have been for him too. Who knows. The number three has been used in numerology to open or close doors. Or to summon or banish. And black beans were used by Romans and other cultures for exorcisms.
It seems the number as well as the beans and the burning of the makeshift of the fetish were to drive away nasty people. A good banishing ritual. Some accounts say the mouse would make a path under a door. So incense lumps were out there. And the mouse would eventually die. Which would lend itself to this magic.
It seems this ritual may also have been used to guide and banish the dead back to there tombs. To properly end all of the rites.
We should also talk about Mercury’s relationship with Dea Tacita. The reason she is the Goddess of silence and the dead, is because Jupiter ripped out her tongue. Then ordered Mercury to banish her to the underworld to become a Nymph of the dead. This is because Jupiter tried to force another nymph named Juturna to be with him. And he asked all the other nymphs to block her escape.
But Larunda did not remain silent. And warned Juturna to escape. On their way to the underworld, Mercury is attracted to Larunda. They made love, and their twin children become the very first Lares. Gods and Guardians of the dead and the crossroads.
And she is ascended to a position even higher than a mere Nymph : a Goddess. Being renamed Dea Tacita. So the Greeks and Romans dear friends, are masters are turning tragedy into triumph. And everyone loves a success story. That’s all my friends.
A merry Feralia to you all.
– M
Sources :
1) Anthesteria: Ancient Festival of Dionysus, the Wine God
3) Anthesteria (Greek festival)
4) Celebrating the Anthesteria – Baring the Aegis
5) The Greek Day of the Dead: the Anthesteria of Dionysus
6) Libations And The Ancient History Of Pouring One Out
8) Encyclopædia Britannica, Ninth Edition/Anthesteria
9) Everyone Was Drinking! Inside an Ancient 3-Day Festival of Wine
The Greek Anthesteria Day 1 : Pithogia (Opening of the Jars)
I consider this to be a companion to the Parentalia. Even though it’s a Greek Holiday. Because while both pantheons are different, they are also inextricably linked to each other. There are even some like me, who worship both Gods and work with them together. Nemesis and Fortuna work especially well with one another.
When this celebration begins, I use it as the beginning of the end of the Parentalia. Like the Parentalia, the dead roam the streets. But, they have something else to add. In the Greek Anthesteria, it’s believed that not only are the dead walking.
They believe that the Guardians of the dead, those spirits and Gods that cross them over, are also among us. Particularly the Keres. The Keres are children of the Goddess Nyx, the Goddess of Night. And Erebus, the God and personification of darkness. Especially the night mist.
image from Malvus
This festival is very fun to do. Like the Parentalia, they honored their ancestors. But unlike Parentalia, chthonic Gods could be honored. Dionysus has many underworld characteristics. People often overlook that aspect of him.
But the original Dionysus was called Zagreus. And he was the child of Persephone and Zeus her father. Since Hades couldn’t sire a child, being the embodiment of death and all. He was eventually killed by the Titans in the underworld. Only to be reincarnated as a child of Zeus and Hera.
Dionysus in his cthonic aspect rules this day. And he demands merriment rather than mourning.
Opening of the jars of Wine
Mythcrafts
On this, the first day of the Anthesteria, we observe the Pithoigia or “the opening of the jars”. Last year’s jars of wine are ceremonially opened. The people ward their doors from evil by smothering tar on the door ways. They chew hawthorn and buckthorn leaves to protect themselves from the shades of the dead. Then, they party.
Everyone, including the slaves, have fun.
Businesses as usual is suspended as in the Parentalia. Everything is topsy turvy. Libations are sacrificed to Dionysus. Spring Flowers decorate the rooms of the home. To invite the spirit of spring.
I also personally think that the flowers are a type or cleansing. Flowers and plants are natural cleansers. Not just medically but spiritually as well. I have been shown floral cleansing rituals. Where a faith healer will arrange a bouquet of roses or other flowers in a home.
The purpose is for the flowers to absorb the bad energy. And release the good natural energy of the earth into the home. This provides both a cleansing and a blessing.
image from Dreamstime
The flowers would decorate all drinking vessels. As well as children older than three years of age. The first and last day of the festival were both considered bad luck. Hence all the apotropaic rituals. Expiation rituals were also done.
For those who don’t know, expiation is a type of ritual, sometimes involving a sacrifice. It’s where a person will do a ritual to remove sins. Or sometimes bad luck or bad energy in general. Particularly it’s for the redeeming of sins. In Roman rituals I would say it’s sort of the removal of both bad luck and bad energy.
So by offering to Dionysus and the ancestors as well, we’re in effect protecting ourselves from harm. Other than that, this day is just about relaxing. Having fun. And being with friends and family. A perfect companion to the Parentalia.
Cheers everyone,
Olympian Series
Sources :
1) Anthesteria: Ancient Festival of Dionysus, the Wine God
3) Anthesteria (Greek festival)
4) Celebrating the Anthesteria – Baring the Aegis
Haunted Houses, Guardian Gods, and Hair Cutting Ghosts: Ancient Accounts by Pliny the Younger, in the 1st Century AD
Originally, I read this expecting to only read about one paranormal account. But it seems that Pliny recorded many. Even the experience of a Roman soldier turned governor in Africa. This man saw an African Goddess (or at least the guardian spirit of Africa) as a tall and unusually beautiful woman. The way she’s described makes me think she’s a Goddess. Because throughout cultures and especially in Greece and Rome, Gods are described as being unusually tall people in human form.
And many times so perfect in their appearance, that they’re more beautiful than words can describe. I have to say this caught me by surprise. And on this, the Parentalia, I wanted to share it with you. Now on the account of the haunted house in Athens. This is the most interesting account of Hauntings I have ever read.
I’m just going to copy and paste the story with a few videos. Along with articles and my commentary. So with that said, here are the stories. From his letter To Sura, the first story I have labeled
The Guardian of Africa
” THE PRESENT recess from business we are now enjoying affords you leisure to give, and me to receive, instruction. I am extremely desirous therefore to know whether you believe in the existence of ghosts, and that they have a real form, and are a sort of divinities, or only the visionary impressions of a terrified imagination. What particularly inclines me to believe in their existence is a story which I heard of Curtius Rufus. When he was in low circumstances and unknown in the world, he attended the governor of Africa into that province. One evening, as he was walking in the public portico, there appeared to him the figure of a woman, of unusual size and of beauty more than human. And as he stood there, terrified and astonished, she told him she was the tutelary (guardian) power that presided over Africa, and was come to inform him of the future events of his life: that he should go back to Rome, to enjoy high honours there, and return to that province invested with the proconsular dignity, and there should die,”
(Now pay attention to what is said next)
” Every circumstance of this prediction actually came to pass. It is said farther that upon his arrival at Carthage, as he was coming out of the ship, the same figure met him upon the shore. It is certain, at least, that being seized with a fit of illness, though there were no symptoms in his case that led those about him to despair, he instantly gave up all hope of recovery; judging, apparently, of the truth of the future part of the prediction by what had already been fulfilled, and of the approaching misfortune from his former prosperity,”
Breno Loeser
It’s claimed he really did die from that mysterious illness. So this Goddess actually followed him to his homeland. Her prophesy came to pass right down to the letter. I know that they can do that. Almost any spirit can follow you across the seas and continents.
But how many people can say that a Deity or a higher power of some sort was following them unbidden to another country? Not many people would be considered that important. She must have seen something in him to consider him worthy.
The House in Athens
” Now the following story, which I am going to tell you just as I heard it, is it not more terrible than the former, while quite as wonderful? There was at Athens a large and roomy house, which had a bad name, so that no one could live there.
In the dead of the night a noise, resembling the clashing of iron, was frequently heard, which, if you listened more attentively, sounded like the rattling of chains, distant at first, but approaching nearer by degrees: immediately afterwards a spectre appeared in the form of an old man, of extremely emaciated and squalid appearance, with a long beard and dishevelled, hair, rattling the chains on his feet and hands.
The GHOST FILES:
THE HAUNTING TRUTH
THE NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN ARCHIVES
OF THE SECRET GHOST SOCIETY
by Mary Kuryla and Eugene Yelchin
The distressed occupants meanwhile passed their wakeful nights under the most dreadful terrors imaginable. This, as it broke their rest, ruined their health, and brought on distempers, their terror grew upon them, and death ensued. Even in the daytime, though the spirit did not appear, yet the impression remained so strong upon their imaginations that it still seemed before their eyes, and kept them in perpetual alarm.
Consequently the house was at length deserted, as being deemed absolutely uninhabitable; so that it was now entirely abandoned to the ghost. However, in hopes that some tenant might be found who was ignorant of this very alarming circumstance, a bill was put up, giving notice that it was either to be let or sold.
Image from,
Brom Bones Books.
They’re version of the image is better but I didn’t want to steal it
It happened that Athenodorus the philosopher came to Athens at this time, and, reading the bill, enquired the price. The extraordinary cheapness raised his suspicion;
Take notes people, even in ancient time, haunted houses were always cheap or barely had tenants. Looks like not much has changed in thousands of years. In Japan, such houses are called Jiko Bukken or “stigmatized houses”. Because murders or suicides happened there. And people believe them to be haunted.
Or even cursed. Most people wouldn’t buy or rent those properties. So Japanese millennials who are poor (like us in America) have taken to seeking out stigmatized houses to live in. Because the rent is so cheap. Here’s a guide to how you can do that too.
“Nevertheless, when he heard the whole story, he was so far from being discouraged that he was more strongly inclined to hire it, and, in short, actually did so. When it grew towards evening, he ordered a couch to be prepared for him in the front part of the house, and, after calling for a light, together with his pencil and tablets, directed all his people to retire. But that his mind might not, for want of employment, be open to the vain terrors of imaginary noises and spirits, he applied himself to writing with the utmost attention. The first part of the night passed in entire silence, as usual; at length a clanking of iron and rattling of chains was heard: however, he neither lifted up his eyes nor laid down his pen, but, in order to keep calm and collected, tried to pass the sounds off to himself as something else.
The noise increased and advanced nearer, till it seemed at the door, and at last in the chamber. He looked up, saw, and recognized the ghost exactly as it had been described to him: it stood before him, beckoning with the finger, like a person who calls another. Athenodorus in reply made a sign with his hand that it should wait a little, and threw his eyes again upon his papers;
Imagine telling a ghost that he needed to wait. Because you’re busy writing. The Ancient people’s were a trip I tell you.
” The ghost then rattled its chains over the head of the philosopher, who looked up upon this, and seeing it beckoning as before, immediately arose, and, light in hand, followed it. The ghost slowly stalked along, as if encumbered with its chains, and, turning into the area of the house, suddenly vanished. Athenodorus, being thus deserted, made a mark with some grass and leaves on the spot where the spirit left him.
” The next day he gave information to the magistrates, and advised them to order that spot to be dug up. This was accordingly done,
that archeologists found,
from Romans Revealed
” And the skeleton of a man in chains was found there; for the body, having lain a considerable time in the ground, was putrefied and mouldered away from the fetters. The bones, being collected together, were publicly buried, and thus after the ghost was appeased by the proper ceremonies, the house was haunted no more,”
This matches a lot of modern paranormal research. It also matches legends every religion has, including Christian denominations. If a soul has not been given a proper burial, it becomes like the angry wandering dead. And in many cases, they remain bound to the areas where their bodies lie. But this death is very suspicious to me.
Slavery was common. And there was no law to my knowledge that said masters had to be good to their slaves. I imagine quite a few slave masters would toss the bodies of their slaves in paupers graves. But this man was buried on the property itself. Which is unusual.
And why did he have chains in the first place? Most slaves did errands for their masters. So they didn’t need chains. It wasn’t necessary. Let’s say someone did kill a slave. The questions are why leave the chains with them like that? Would a slave master really pay extra money for brand new chains? Especially when they could just use the old ones after the slave died.
Why was there no information on the slave? Slaves births and deaths were recorded meticulously. And why bury him on the property? Why not send the corpse away to a pauper’s grave? Or even have it cremated? So now let’s say,
“Okay, maybe the master was too cheap to buy a funerary plot for the slave,”
Fine I’ll concede that’s probably why he was buried in the ground. But again…..why is there no name or record of this man anywhere? It’s almost as if someone wanted to keep the death a secret. And why wouldn’t the original owners know? Maybe this would explain the chains. Maybe it was not a slave at all. But a regular citizen kept captive. Slaves also had slave collars in Rome.
from the article by Jennifer Trimble
No mention of a slave collar being found in that grave either. And no where in the story does Athenodorus or Pliny claim that this was a departed slave. Unless this was a more ancient murder that predates the owners or the house. And they somehow had the house built atop this man’s grave and didn’t realize it. Either way, there’s a lot of unanswered questions here.
Imagine the cops show up at your house right now. And discover a dead body buried in the backyard. It would be hard for the cops to believe that nobody knew this body was buried there. Even if it were true. I think the reason the original owners never came under suspicion is because they were members of the Patrician class.
A Plebeian probably would have attracted more attention from the Vigiles Urbani (Roman police and firefighters). But there’s no mention anywhere that any action was taken against them. I wonder if this was a murder victim. That would also explain the haunting. Even if the man were a slave, I wonder what would have caused this to happen.
Scissors
This last account certainly is bizarre. No wonder he saved it for last.
A children’s version of the Story
“ This story I believe upon the credit of others; what I am going to mention, I give you upon my own. I have a freedman named Marcus, who is by no means illiterate. One night, as he and his younger brother were lying together, he fancied he saw somebody upon his bed, who took out a pair of scissors, and cut off the hair from the top part of his own head, and in the morning, it appeared his hair was actually cut, and the clippings lay scattered about the floor. A short time after this, an event of a similar nature contributed to give credit to the former story. A young lad of my family was sleeping in his apartment with the rest of his companions, when two persons clad in white came in, as he says, through the windows, cut off his hair as he lay, and then returned the same way they entered.
The next morning it was found that this boy had been served just as the other, and there was the hair again, spread about the room. Nothing remarkable indeed followed these events, unless perhaps that I escaped a prosecution, in which, if Domitian (during whose reign this happened) had lived some time longer, I should certainly have been involved. For after the death of that emperor, articles of impeachment against me were found in his scrutore, which had been exhibited by Carus. It may therefore be conjectured, since it is customary for persons under any public accusation to let their hair grow, this cutting off the hair of my servants was a sign I should escape the imminent danger that threatened me.
Let me desire you then to give this question your mature consideration. The subject deserves your examination; as, I trust, I am not myself altogether unworthy a participation in the abundance of your superior knowledge. And though you should, as usual, balance between two opinions, yet I hope you will lean more on one side than on the other, lest, whilst I consult you in order to have my doubt settled, you should dismiss me in the same suspense and indecision that occasioned you the present application.
Farewell,”
It’s interesting he says that the scissor selectors actually saved him from legal trouble. And that he believes the cutting of the hair is what averted that fate. That sounds like a magical ritual. It reminds me of Atropos, the third sister of the Fates. She has golden shears that she uses to actually cut the chord of life.
Which leads to a person’s death.
Hair is also connected with the mind and thus the soul. It’s possible that this was some kind of Apotropaic ritual. But I wonder, were these actually spirits? Or witches in his community? Perhaps they were protecting him and his family. There’s nothing about the encounter that makes me think these were spirits. They could have been flesh and blood humans who practiced magic.
But it’s strange that this was kept a secret from him. Perhaps they thought he would object. It’s a strange story either way.
I have some YouTube videos and random articles I thought were cool that mention the ghost story. I wish there was more content on the African Goddess who visited Curtius Rufus. Or the mysterious barbers who visited these people. But here we go,
Athenodorus and the Ghost Who Waited – by Brom Bone Books
A two page comic book of the story
(👆This one is longer and better)
Apparitions and Paranormal Phenomena by Mystery Pile
Athenodorus, the World’s first Paranormal Investigator – by the Paranormal Pastor
best animation explaining everything
(👆I sincerely doubt this was the first or even the first recorded paranormal encounter)
How the Ghost got his rattle (the possible origin of why ghosts have chains in literature)
That’s all for now, enjoy!
– M
“Forget the Dead at your Peril” A Parentalia Ghost Story
The sun is setting outside right now. The rays of warmth leave for the night. And while it isn’t chilly in Florida right now, one can sense a feeling of foreboding if you pay attention. The shadows seem extra long this year. Is it a new influx of souls?
Maybe it’s from all the new dead we had from this year and last year already. It actually feels more like Halloween in this Parentalia than it did in October last year. So with that, I wanted to share with you a Roman Ghost Story. It was an event recorded by Ovid in his Fasti.
And allegedly it actually happened. This was one of those few times I was genuinely surprised with a new nugget of knowledge. I had never heard of this account before. This came from one of the articles I used to write my post on the Parentalia. It records an uprising by the dead in the festival due to neglect by the people.
Here’s the account, courtesy of Archeology Online,
I had never heard of this before. But it makes sense. Even good ghosts, can get pissed off. I was inspired to write my own ghost story. I wrote it as if were a legend.
And I call this story…….
~ The Mournful Wail ~
The people ran in fear. Even the drunkards and the homeless on the streets ran for shelter. Sealing themselves up in government buildings that had been shut closed for the festival of the parents. The screams of the Romans filled the night all over their city. The Ancestors rose from the tombs at nightfall.
Their anger were like waves of heat in the night. The air was filled with their angry voices. Can you imagine that? An endless throng of shades rising up to haunt the living? Some of them were the military dead.
Arisen to haunt their comrades for forgetting their votive offerings. Some were citizen dead. Most were spirits. Strange confusing creatures. Some were as fog in the night.
Others were spheres of light. Some were shadows. Others seemed to be like water and fire. And some still appeared as humanoid light without discernible features. They were able to float to the top of houses and wail to be let in.
But that wasn’t the worst of them. The roads were being blocked by legions of the angry dead. Some are even reanimated corpses. For then such things happened. What we once mocked in the taverns as silly stories, were now before our very eyes.
It was nothing to laugh about.
The people couldn’t go back to the temples. They were locked up for the Parentalia. Soldiers were trying to fend off the non-corporeal beings at first. Then upon seeing the ones that brought back their rotted bodies. And soiled themselves.
Families were locking their doors and sealing the windows. Maybe blocking all exists and entries. Preparing as if for an invading horde. And in a way it was. A horde of our own dead.
But now hearken to me. As I tell you the tale of those brave Romans who fought off the hordes. And saved their city.
Behold, there was once a well known family of farmers. In the countryside they tended to horses and other animals. And were well known to be hard workers. The father Claudius and his wife Aelia were well known for their charity. They even allowed the poor without homes to work in the fields for them for money.
With time their small farm became a mighty latifundium. And they shared all that they had. Not forgetting their humble beginnings. Not wearing fancy clothing as many of the higher classes did. Just the night before, they thought that their worst problem was the war.
And now they and they workers were sealing themselves up in their own home. Closing every single opening.
Why? Why did we waste so much time with war, They were thinking. Why didn’t we pay attention to the ancestors?
The workers and children could hear the animals screaming outside. They didn’t have enough room for all of them. The children began to cry. Claudius, Aelia, and their workers lit candles and torches. And began to illumine the darkened corners of their rooms.
When they were interrupted by a deep, sharp, knock on the front door. And what they heard was both terrifying and disheartening. A terrible wailing.
The terrified household hid behind Claudius. The Paterfamilias (father of the family). After all, the head of all families are the Priests of this festival. The Paterfamilias was putting on a strong face for his family. When another long, sharp, knock hit the door.
And a mournful voice spoke through the cracks. The household could tell someone, a woman, had been crying. Claudius spoke in a stern voice.
“Who dares disturb our rest this night?”
Aelia was not pleased that he spoke. The priests of the temple often warned of the dangers of speaking to strange spirits. Even speaking to your own ancestors could become dangerous if not done properly. He had not long to wait for the answer.
“Claudius, let me in my son. I am so cold. And so hungry,”
Claudius went pale as if all the blood had been spilled from his body. Everyone else in the house is stunned into silence. Even the animals outside can not bare to make noises now.
“Claudius,” she speaks again, “Why did you forget me this year? Why did you make no offerings of bread and wine? Was it too much for you to even visit?”
Claudius couldn’t believe what he was hearing. But it was real. The workers and his family can hear it too. It was his dead mother. He had not heard that voice for many years.
It was a voice he had missed for so long. A voice that once comforted him as a child. He tried to remember the lullabies that she taught him. The ancient magical spells she would sing to protect him. Why hadn’t he paid more attention to the customs?
All he had before was faith that such things could be. What he had behind that door now was truth. A truth more frightening and more terrible than any of the legends could describe.
“Claudius!”, now a deeper voice spoke. And a more aggressive knock assailed the door. “Open up boy!” The voice was far deeper. It was a man. A man who had a stone cold heart in life.
Unforgiving.
He had died when he was just 17. But even on his death bed, he never lost his spiteful tongue. His venom and contempt for life. His stern voice. A voice that demanded to be respected.
Or else. But his father’s old voice when he was alive, was gentle compared to this one. It was the voice of vocal chords that had long rotted past their use. The voice of something that should not have been able to speak. The voice of a spirit reunited with it’s dead body.
It suits him, Claudius thought. He was barely a human when he was alive.
It brought out the venom and bile of his soul more than his old voice did. He wondered how long it would take the Vigiles Urbani to come to their aid. Then he cursed at his own stupidity. The watchmen were probably busy dealing with their own angry ancestors. Another, louder knock hit the door,
“Boy, I have commanded you to open this door…. now,”
The children openly cried now. They no longer tried to be silent. They held onto their mother’s legs for support. And she began to hush them. And place her protective hands on their shoulders.
Aelia was frightened at first. But then she closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. And centered herself. She laid a gentle hand on her husband.
And calmed his tremors. Claudius hadn’t even realized he was shaking before. Or that his eyes had shed tears. She looked deeply into his eyes. He’d always been confident in all that he did.
Perhaps too confident sometimes. But right now the person standing before her seemed as a frightened child. Her heart sank at this. The voices outside kept wailing louder. The winds howled with their voices.
Then she gently squeezed his arm. “Claudius”, she said. That back into himself. As if by art of magic. He gazed into his wife’s loving eyes.
He knew without words what she was saying. She was saying, I believe in you Claudius, now believe in yourself. He smiled at her. He felt his inner strength returning.
“Daughter in law!”, the voice outside screamed. “Let us in Now! Your Paterfamilias commands it!”
Claudius who before was frightened, was now angry. Angry that his household was under attack. Angry at himself and all the other men of the city who had told their wives that they had to focus on the war effort. Rather than taking care of their ancestors. Angry that these people he had taken in from the streets, and now his own family, were in danger here.
And finally, angry that his father insulted both him and his wife. Screaming out commands as if he were still in charge and they were the children.
“ Silence! I am the Paterfamilias. Not you. You are nothing but a shade of the dead. With a sour tongue and empty threats. And I as Priest of this household, Adjure you by the Gods to be silent,”
The wailing and the wind stopped. The animals outside began to make their noises again. Silently, but calmly. Aelia was always a lot more spiritual than he was. She was the one who often stayed in the temples after every celebration.
Asking questions about the nature of life and death. And how to protect oneself from the spirits. If I survive this, I will strive to be as spiritual as she he said to himself. Something she had told him once stayed in his mind. That every believer is a priest in their own right.
And if you command the spirits, they must obey.
“My family,” he spoke addressing the workers as much as his own blood family, “We must treat them as if they were Larvae (evil ghosts). Go and get the pots and the pans. And begin banging them and making noises all night. Light the torches using carmen (spells). To make the fires holy.
And place them in every corner we can,”
“Where will you go?” Asked Aelia. “To fetch black beans for the rite of expiation,”
Aelia understood now. They performed this ritual in the month of Maius every year. Not the month of Februa. But right now they needed help. The men broke into two groups, one group began banging the pots and pans.
And screaming at the ghosts to leave now. The other, kept the doors and Windows sealed while the Paterfamilias did his work. Aelia began to light the torches. Using a carmen or charm over each of them. Consecrating them as best as she could.
She may not be the father of the family, but she’s still the mother. And she knows much from her priests. Then came Claudius. He studied the door frame. And he noticed a crack, large enough to throw things outside.
First he took salt and then seeds that he had blessed with prayers to Lupercus. And he said,
“Accept these offerings my Parentes, accept them and be comforted, and depart from us,”
He slowly threw the salt and seeds outside of his front door. Little by little he chanted the carmen. His living family made the house inhospitable to the spirits. This would serve a double function. He would comfort the shades and feed them.
But they would bless the inside of the estate and banish the spirits. So as not to encourage them to stay. Outside he heard a sickening sound. It was of long tongues, licking the salt and swallowing the seeds from the floor outside. The fetid stench of those long dead mouths filled the air.
And it crept through the same cracks in the door. Aelia wished she could burn the sacred herbs. But refrained from doing so. It was not proper to do this in the time of the dead. Claudius understood what his wife was thinking and said,
“Use lavandula infused lustral waters. And wash the floors in the name of Lupercus,”
Aelia smiled. That was the Claudius she knew. Always quick on his feet. She ran to the herbs, took lavandula, and broke them into pieces. She heated the water to strain their essence into it.
Lavandula as you know, is sacred to the people of Rome. It could break curses. And ward off evil spirits. But it was also a sweet smelling herb. It would serve the purpose of consecrating the floor to protect them.
And the smell would blot out the stench of the corpses outside their door. Albus and Alba, their children, looked at what they were doing and had an idea. They would would do the same thing.
“Go get a sprig of unbroken lavandula,” said Albus, “I’ll prepare the water,”
Alba made her own aspergillum. Like the priests. Except the priests use a stick with horsehair to cast aspersions of sacred water. This would have to do. They made their own lustral water.
Copying what their mother had done, Alba and Albus started flicking the waters at the animals outside. Like her father, she used the cracks in the back doors. Begging Lupercus who is lord over all animals, to protect their livestock. The animals started getting quieter. Calmer.
But whatever was out there began to moan in pain. They didn’t like the blessed waters. Whatever was back there scaring the livestock, started to leave. The adults smiled. Not bad for common worshippers.
They would make it through the night. But it would not be easy. The formless shades were flying near the top of the estate. Hovering above them. And creatures who had ensouled their corpus outside the door.
They could hear them outside. Hungrily devouring salt, and pieces of blessed seeds. Now accompanied by small pieces of bread. They long stopped wailing and speaking. The great mob of the dead grew larger.
He cursed under his breath in Latin. The offerings were attracting the other dead. But he couldn’t stop now. Suddenly, he heard a voice from one of the other houses.
“Claudius! Aelia! Can you hear me?”
It was their neighbor Marcellus.
“Marcellus, we hear you!”
He shouted from their door.
“The dead stopped assailing the rest of us. Why are they going to you?”
“Listen very carefully,” said Claudius. “I need you to write down these instructions. And pass it on to our other neighbors. Because I can not keep this going for long,” he stopped as the dead began to complain that he was taking too long.
“I the Paterfamilias adjure you, silence! Or I will cease my offerings,”
Now they all quieted. He began again slowly. And he told Marcellus what he and his family were doing. How they were both warding off the dead and feeding them. He told Marcellus they can keep it up for a longer period of time.
But he needed him to send instructions to the rest of his neighbors of how they could replicate this. Marcellus wrote everything down. And one by one he began to shout to the neighbors. Eventually making a hole in his roof and standing atop a ladder to shout it to everyone at once. He instructed them to also make holes and listen to him speak.
It was safe now, as the formless phantoms from above were at the Claudius and Aelia’s estate. Just one time he was able to give them all the instructions. One by one, each Paterfamilias and their households began to first bless and consecrate their homes as Claudius had done. And then prepare blessed offerings and carmens for the dead. Since Claudius had drawn all the attention to his land, they were able to open their doors and leave offerings on the roads instead.
They screamed to the dead that their offerings were there. In large groups all at once, they began to file out of Claudius’ door way. The Phantoms above too began to leave. Until only his parents and other ancestors were there. That was still too many.
But it was old Marinus who had the best idea. He instructed the Paterfamilias of each household to prepare a large bonfire away from the houses down the roads. They would have to work fast. And exit their homes via the posticum. And take whatever they could find to perform one mass carmen.
They would enchant the fires and command the shades to appear before the flames. And the holy flames would provide them with both warmth and sustenance. And when they had their fill, they would be adjured to depart from the living. Back to their tombs for the night. Because Marinus himself had come up with this idea, he was chosen as the “high priest” for the event.
The old man had no idea how he was going to do this himself.
“You can do it Marinus,” shouted his neighbor Livia. “I know you can,”
Suddenly, Marinus was filled with courage. And more ideas formed in his mind. He exited his own posticum first. Luckily, the old man had the bad habit of collecting things. Like sticks and old dried leaves.
They would be perfect for the fires. He had chanted a carmen over them. Then he was surrounded by the other men.
“Let us begin,” he said.
They began to pile up the wood. Each of them had offerings for the dead they would toss inside once the fire was started. One of them took a blessed torch from the inside of the house to light the bonfires. One by one they began to make sacred fires. Marinus told them,
“Build the fires. I will chant the carmens by myself at first,”
As each of them built other fires away from the neighboring houses, he began to call the dead.
“I call you di Parentes, of all Rome, congregate here before the flames and accept these offerings on behalf of all your people”
He hoped this carmen would be strong enough to attract all the dead everywhere. Vestal virgins were supposed to be doing a collective offering for all the dead. So he asked for just a single virgin to appear, someone young. And from one of the houses, a child of no more than thirteen came to assist him. To pray to Vesta to bless her even though she was not consecrated.
The girl swore in prayer to become a Vestal when all of this was over. If she would just help her now. As the old man summoned the dead, the girl spoke a carmen as she sacrificed the offerings into the fire.
“These old clothes we sacrifice to you. To clothe you in the afterlife. This fire be blessed by Vesta to feed you warmth. These pieces of food and wine we throw into the fire to bless the flame with substance for you,”
She continued drawing on divine inspiration to do this. As Marinus commanded more and more of the dead there. More bonfires were lit. “Come girl,” he said. “This fire is blessed enough for them.
Now we need to do the same for the others,”
They took the rest of the offerings to the second bonfire. And she repeated the ritual. Feeding the flame with blessed offerings for the dead. They did this until all the bonfires, were blessed. And she commanded that the fires should become a common sacrifice for all of Rome.
All of Claudius’ ancestors had now left. They were all by the bonfires. Drinking in the warmth as if it were food. Marinus and the girl had realized all they needed were small offerings to bless a fire. So they began to ration them out to each of the bonfires.
More fires were made. And Aelia had an idea.
“Claudius, join the other Paterfamilias in this work. Take the men with you. The children and I have work to do,”
Claudius raised a brow at this but did not press her for details. The men left. And Aelia, Albus, and Alba had knocked on every single door. And told the women and children, to prepare sprigs of lavandula and vessels of lustral water. The children would also take pots and pans to make noise.
And little by little they all began to make a large enough noise to frighten the dead away. They began to cast aspersions of lustral water everywhere. Blessing the roads and outside of each domūs to create a sanctum. Although the Paterfamilias usually did this next part, the women took bags of black beans. And then began to pellet the dead who tried to linger.
And cast the carmen together,
“Haec ego mitto; his redimo meque meosque fabis,”
(I send these; with these beans I redeem me and mine)
The Lemurian exorcism rite. Driving away the angry and dark dead. This made the spirits of the ancestors uncomfortable. When they had gained enough energy from the bonfires, they slowly left. Returning to their tombs.
They had to be careful. Some of the dead were tricky. They tried to stay behind. So the women and children began to investigate every dark corner, every crevice. And secured the areas.
But the formless dead still hovered in the air above their homes. Livia had an idea.
“Let us tie sprigs of lavandula to each place we have cleansed. To ensure the dead do not return to these places,”
Aelia thought the idea inspired. When they had finished warding all of their properties with fresh new carmens, they sent the children back to each domūs. And instructed them to continue making noises. And only to answer the doors if they saw that it was them. The children decided to have one child bang the pots in the house.
And another up a ladder through the holes in the roof. In order to keep watch. And communicate among themselves. Their mothers approved and they did this. Then the children atop the ladders asked for sprigs to be thrown to them.
And using them as scepters, they pointed to the shades above. One child invented a carmen for all of them to say.
“Lupercus, by these sprigs, cast away the shades, send them away!”
As the dead exited the streets, they thanked the living for their offerings. Claudius and Aelia decided to expand to the rest of the city. One by one they recruited whole families to join them. They gave bigger and bigger offerings. And as the hours of the night passed, the dead departed to their tombs again.
The shapeless entities began to screech. And one by one, they flew away. Made uncomfortable by the great carmen spoken by the children. It took long hours of the night before they reached the Vigiles Urbani. When the watchmen heard what they were doing, they quickly sprang to action.
They sent word to all the politicians. To the priests and high priests, and to the Legions. With their help they had finished before dawn. And then began to ward the inside and outside of the city with not just with lavandula or other herbs. But with special amulets blessings of lustral waters.
The entire city was warded now. The boundaries and other liminal spaces strengthened. Cleansings and blessings for Lupercus were given. The Luperci, Lupercus’ priests had apparently already done something similar to all of them. Chasing the dead away with aspersions of blessed waters.
by Ad Maiora Vertite
But they had not thought to do the offerings. They were going to wait till daylight. They were all exhausted. But none of them slept. Instead, all the families, even the children, went to the tombs outside the city.
And gave homage to their ancestors. As had all the families of Rome that day. And at nightfall, there was only peace. Never again sense, had anyone doubted the old ways. Not forgotten their dead kin.
– Finis –
I have dedicated this story to a friend. I won’t mention his name out of privacy. He’s a good man. A great writer. And above all, a brother.
Good night my friends, sleep tight. Don’t let the dead ones bite,
– M
Adventures of A Mage In Miami 