CHAPTER XV.
THE LECTISTERNIUM.
"My dear child," said Duilia, "I never did a better stroke of policy thanthat supper a few evenings ago. It went off quite charmingly, without ahitch. I allowed that good Flavius Sabinus to talk; and he is just one ofthose men who enjoys himself best where he is given full flow for histwaddle. A good, worthy, commonplace man. I doubt if he has push in him,but he is just so situated now that he must go ahead. The news is mostencouraging. Mucianus is on his way to Italy at the head of an army.Primus, with his legions, is approaching; he has beaten the troops sentagainst him, and has sacked Cremona; there are positively none who hold byVitellius except his brother in Campania, and his German bodyguard.Domitia," the widow dropped her voice, "we can do better than with thatmilksop AElius Lamia."
"Mother, I will have no other."
"Then we must push him up into position. But come, my dear, we must showourselves at the Lectisternia. It will be expected of us, and be setting agood example, and all that sort of thing, and it is positively wicked tomope indoors when we ought to be seen in the streets and the forum. Sothere, make yourself ready. I am going instantly. I have ordered round thepalanquins, and, as you may perceive, I am dressed and my hair done to goout. That supper was _quite_ a success."
The time was now that of the Saturnalia, lasting seven days, beginning onthe 17th December with a strange institution, a banquet of the gods.Usually the several gods had their feasts in their own temples and invitedothers to them, but on certain solemn occasions all banqueted together inpublic. The distress, the butcheries, the general confusion caused by thesetting up and casting down of emperors--three in ten months--and now, eightmonths after, a fourth tottering; and every change involving massacre,plunder, disturbance of order;--this had moved the priests to decree asolemn lectisternium and supplication for the restoration of tranquillityand the cessation of civil broil.
The banquet was to take place in the forum.
"You shall come in the _lectica_ (palanquin) with me," said Duilia. "Itwill have quite a pathetic aspect--the widow and the orphan together.Besides, I want some one to talk to. What do you think of FlaviusDomitianus? A modest lad, to my mind."
"Shy and clumsy," observed Domitia. "The sight of him is a horror to me."
"My dear child, only a fool will take sprats when he can have whitebait.Look out to better yourself."
"Oh, mother!--what is that?"
"A god going to supper," said the lady. "We shall see plenty of thempresently."
That which had attracted her daughter's attention was a bier supported onthe shoulders of priests, on which lay a figure dressed handsomely, in theattitude of a man at table, raised on his left elbow that was buried in apillow, the head erect and the right arm extended, balanced in the air.The body was probably of wood under the drooping drapery, but the face andhands and feet were of wax. In jolting over the pavement, the sleeve hadbecome disarranged, and showed the wooden prop that sustained the waxenright hand. The face was colored, the eyes were of glass, and real hairwas affixed to the head; the lower jaw, hung on wires, opened and shutwith the jostling. The staring figure swaying on the shoulders of thebearers, had a sufficiently startling effect, sweeping round a corner,wagging its beard, and past the palanquin in which were the ladies.
"A thing like that can't eat," said Domitia.
"Oh, my dear child, no. The gods only sniff at the food. After it has beenset before them, it is carried away, and the people scramble for it."
"They are naught but wax and woodwork," said the girl contemptuously.
"My child, how often have I not had to quote to you that text, 'It is notwell to be overwise about the gods?' Here we are! What a crowd!"
The forum of Rome, that wondrous basin towered over on one side by theCapitol, inclosed on another by the Palatine, and on the third by thedensely packed blocks of houses in the Suburra below the Quirinal, Viminaland Esquiline Hills, was itself crowded with temples and basilicas, yetnot then as dense with monuments as later, when the open spaces werefurther encroached upon by the Antonines.
"Domitia," said Longa Duilia, in her ear, "all things are working outexcellently. Vitellius is aware that he has no chance, and has beenconsulting with our cousin in the Temple of Concord yonder, and they havenearly settled between them that Vespasian is to assume the purple withoutfurther opposition. Vitellius will retire to some country villa on ahandsome annuity. That will prevent more bloodshed and confiscation, andall that sort of thing. It is always advisable to avoid unpleasantnessesif possible. There, child, there are quite a bevy of gods already attable. See that dear old doll, Summanus, without a head--you know it wasstruck off by lightning in the time of Pyrrhus. It was of clay, and rolledall the way to the Tiber and plopped in. Since then he has been without ahead, the darling!"
"How can he either smell or eat, mother?"
"My child, I don't ask. It is not well to be overwise about the gods.There go the Arval Brothers with the image of Aca Larentia seated--ofcourse not lying. You will see some venerable curiosities, who put in anappearance on days like this so as not to be wholly forgotten."
The sight presented by the forum was indeed strange. A space had beencleared and shut off from the intrusion of the crowd, and there lay andsat the images at tables that were spread with viands. All were eitherlife-size or larger. Some were skilfully modelled, and wore gorgeousclothing, but others were of the rudest moulding in terra cotta, or carvedwood, and evidently of very ancient date, of Etruscan workmanship littleinfluenced by Greek art.
Domitia looked on in astonishment. The populace laughed and commented onthe images, without the least reverence; and the priests and theirassistants laid the dishes before the puppets, then whisked them off andcarried them without the barriers. Thereupon ensued a struggle who shouldget hold of the savory morsels that were being conveyed from the table ofthe gods; even the vessels used for the viands and for the wine weresnatched at and carried away, and the priests offered no resistance.
Domitia was completely transported out of herself by astonishment at thesight. Every now and then the hum of voices spluttered into a burst oflaughter at some ribald joke, and then roared up into a hubbub of soundover the trays of meats and wine that were being fought for.
Already the short winter day was closing in, and torches were beingbrought forth and stood beside the images. Then the tables were clearedand removed.
A trumpet blast sounded, and instantly the barriers were cast down, andthe second act of this extraordinary spectacle ensued. This was thesupplication. Instantly the temper of the mob changed from scepticism andmockery to enthusiastic devotion, and those pressed forward to kneel andtouch the cushions and drapery on which the gods reposed, and to entreattheir assistance, whose lips had but recently uttered a scoff.
Nothing so completely differentiates Christian worship from that of PaganRome as the congregational character of the former contrasted with theuncongregational nature of the latter. At the present day in Papal Romethe priests may be seen behind glass doors in little chapels annexed to S.Peter's and S. Maria Maggiore saying their offices, indifferent to therebeing no laity present, indeed, with no provision made that they shouldassist. This is a legacy of Pagan Rome. The sacrifices, the services inthe temples and other sanctuaries, were entirely independent of thepeople, some performed within closed doors. The only popular religiousservice was the _supplication_, which took place but occasionally. Thenthe public streamed to the images of the gods, uttering fervent prayer,chanting hymns, prostrating themselves before the couches, catching attheir bed-coverings, esteeming themselves blessed if they could lay theirhands on the sacred pillows. But there was no general consent as to whichof the gods and goddesses were most potent. Some cried out that MotherOrbona had helped them, others that Fortuna was a jade and promised butperformed nothing. One fanatic, in a transport, shrieked that these godswere good for naught, for his part he trusted only in Consus, whose t
emplewas in ruins, whose altar was buried in earth by the circus of Tarquin.But there were others who swept in a strong current towards the couch ofJupiter and of that of Venus. Another strong current, howling 'Io Saturne!Salve Mater Ops!' made for the images of the Old God of Time and hisdivine Mate.
Simultaneously came a cross current of vendors of cakes and toys from theSuburra, regardless of the devotion of the people, careful only to selltheir goods--for the Saturnalia was a period at which the children wereregaled with gingerbread, and treated to dolls of terra cotta, of ivoryand of wood. Hawkers selling pistachio nuts, the cones of the edible pine,men with baked chestnuts, others with trays of Pomponian pears and Mattianapples, vociferating and belauding their wares, increased the clamor.
Whilst this was at its height, down from the Palatine by the New Way camethe German Imperial Body-Guard, forcing a passage through the mob, theirshort swords drawn, bellowing imprecations, whirling their blades,striking with the flat of the steel, threatening to cut down such asimpeded their progress.
Some _vigiles_, or city police, came up. There was no love lost betweenthem and the pampered foreigners employed in the palace, and they opposedthe household troops. Remonstrances were employed and cast away. Then aGerman was struck in the face by a pine cone, another tripped, fell, and ahawker with a barrow-load of dolls, in his eagerness to escape, ran hisvehicle over the prostrate guardsman. At once the Germans' blood was up,they rushed upon the police, and a fray ensued in which now this side,then that, gained advantage. The populace, densely packed, came in forblows and wounds. When a guardsman fell, and they could lay hold of him,he was dragged away, and almost torn to pieces by eager hands strippinghim of his splendid uniform.
The Praefect, who was in the Forum, summoned three cohorts to his aid, todrive back the household troops, and in a moment the trough between thehills was converted into a scene of the wildest confusion, some womenscreaming that they had lost their children, others crying to the gods tohelp them. Boys had scrambled up the bases of the statues, and one urchinsat with folded legs on the shoulders of Julius Caesar, hallooing, andoccasionally pelting with nuts where they did not fear retaliation.
The vendors of cakes and toys cursed as their trays were upset, or theirbarrows clashed. Men fought each other, for no other reason than that thesoldiers were engaged, and they were unable to keep their itching handsoff each other.
Down a stair from the palace came the Emperor Vitellius, carried on theshoulders of soldiers, while slaves bore flambeaux before him.
He was seen to gesticulate, but in the uproar none heard what he said.
Meanwhile, the priests were endeavoring to remove the gods, and met withthe greatest difficulty. Some frantic women clung to the images andrefused to allow them to be taken away. Some of the figures had beenupset, and the servants of the temples to which they belonged made ringsabout them with interlaced arms, to protect them from being trampled underfoot. Jupiter Capitolinus had been injured and lost his nose.
A priest with the help of a torch, was melting the wax and fastening it onagain, whilst the guard of the temple kept off the rabble.
The currents of human beings, driven by diverse passions, jostled, brokeacross each other, resolved themselves into swirls of living men and womencarried off their feet.
The litter of the lady Duilia and her daughter tossed like a boat in awhirlpool, and the widow shrieked with terror.
Then two powerful arms were thrust within the curtains of the palanquin,and the slave Eboracus laid hold of Domitia, and said:--
"There is no safety here. Trust me. I will battle through with you. Comeon my arm. Fear not."
"Save me! Me, also!" screamed Duilia, "I shall be thrown out, troddenunder foot! O my wig! My wig!"
But Eboracus, regardless of the widow, holding his young mistress on hisleft arm, with the right armed with a cudgel, which he whirled like aflail, and with which, without compunction he broke down all opposition,drove, battered his way through the throng where most dense, across thecurrents most violent, and did not stay till he had reached acomparatively unobstructed spot, in one of the narrow lanes between theFish Market and the Hostilian Court.
"ARMED WITH A CUDGEL, WHICH HE WHIRLED LIKE A FLAIL." _Page 129._]