This claim seems to be widely made online. But is it true? Does anyone know, and how do we know?
Category: Ancient world
Choricius of Gaza, the Suda on the “brumalia”
One of the authors mentioned in yesterday’s post about evidence for the winter festival of the Brumalia was Choricius of Gaza. Apparently he records the magnificent celebration of this festival in the first consulship of the emperor Justinian. If you’re like me, this is an author about whom you know very little. He seems to be an author of the 6th century, whose declamations have come down to us, at least in part.
Unfortunately the 1929 edition by Richard Förster and Eberhard Richtsteig, Choricii Gazaei opera, does not seem to be online. The Wikipedia article lists an English translation by Robert J. Penella, made in this very year, but of course none of us plebs have access to that.
I would like to pin down the portion that deals with the brumalia, and quote it. There is an 1846 edition online here. Unfortunately the only reference to the brumalia is in a footnote on p.305.
The introduction to the Penella volume appears here on this site, discussing the “twelve declamations” and gives the following reference:
…on the occasion of Justinian’s Brumalia, the sophist [Choricius] compares the emperor to Zeus, but makes no reference to his Christianity (Dialex. 7 [XIII]).
The excerpt on the site gives a very clear idea that Penella’s volume is a good solid piece of work, which I wish I had access to.
Moving on, the 10th century lexicon the Suda is online. The entry (beta, 556) for “Brumalia” reads:
This was devised by Romus, since he and his brother Remus, having been born as a result of fornication, were exposed and reared by a woman. It was [considered] disgraceful among the Romans to eat someone else’s food. At drinking parties each guest would bring his own food and drink in order not to gain the reputation of being feeders-off-others. On account of this Romus invented the Brumalia, having declared that it was necessary for the king to feed his senate in the winter, when they enjoyed respite from war, starting with the alpha up to the omega, and he ordered the senate likewise to invite the soldiers. And when the soldiers were ready to leave, they used to play pipes starting in the evening so they would know where they would find their meal. And Romus devised this in atonement for his own outrage, giving the meal the name “Brumalium”, which is ‘to feed off another’s goods’ in the Roman language.
This gives no indication of when the brumalia was held beyond “winter”.
UPDATE (22 Dec. 2016): A translation of the oration in question by Choricius, and a wonderful summary of information on Bruma and Brumalia, has been made by Roberta Mazza, and is online here.[1]
- [1]Roberta Mazza, “Choricius of Gaza Oration XIII: Religion and State in the Age of Justinian”, in: E. Digeser, R.M. Frakes, J. Stephens (eds.), The Rhetoric of Power in Late Antiquity: Religion and Politics in Byzantium, Europe and the early Islamic World, Tauris Academic Studies: London-New York 2010, 172-93.↩
On “bruma” and “brumalia” in ancient Rome, as found in the OLD
There is a certain amount of wild talk around online about a festival of bruma, or the brumalia, connected with Christmas. It would be interesting to find out what is truly known and discoverable from ancient sources about the nature and date of this event. So I reached for the OLD!
According to the Oxford Latin Dictionary (p.243), the word bruma is the superlative of brevis (=short), i.e. breui-ma which became breu-ma. Three meanings are listed.
1. The shortest day, the winter solstice or the period during which this occurs, mid-winter; also (astronomical) the position of the sun at the winter solstice.
References are given for this:
ubi solstitium fuerit ad brumam Cato, Agr. 17.1; Varro L. 6.8. eas (litteras) mihi post brumam reddiderunt Cicero ad fam. 3.7.3; dies continuos xxx sub bruma esse noctem Caesar, Gallic war 5.13.3; Vitruvius 9.3.3; Livy 43.18.1; Ovid fasti 1.163; Manilius 2.404; Columella Arb. 24; Pliny the Elder, NH 18.231; Terence Ph. 709; Cicero Div. 2.52; solis accessus discessusque solstitiis brumisque cognosci N.D. (?) 2.19. (A couple more references to the latter meaning are also given)
2. Winter.
References are given for this, and also for a third meaning expressing “a winter” as a period of time.
The adjective brumalis is also listed, meaning “connected with the winter solstice”, the tropic of capricorn, or merely “wintry”. For the first meaning it gives
Cicero Arat. 295 (61), de orat. 3.178, Div. 2.33; Lucretius 5.616; Ovid Pont. 2.4.25.
I need to look these up and tabulate them here.
A google search revealed remarkably little of substance, but apparently there is something in John Lydus, De mensibus (which we have met before!). However doing the same search via an anonymising proxy reveals more.
John Malalas in his Chronicle 7.7 gives an account of the origins of the festival. This tells us it was in the winter, and instituted by Romulus (or “Romus” as Malalas calls him).
Because of this Romus devised what is known as the Brumalia, declaring, it is said, that the emperor of the time must entertain his entire senate and officials and all who serve in the palace, since they are persons of consequence, during the winter when there is a respite from righting. He began by inviting and entertaining first those whose names began with alpha, and so on, right to the last letter; he ordered his senate to entertain in the same way. They too entertained the whole army, and those they wanted. . . . This custom of the Brumalia has persisted in the Roman state to the present day. — [The Chronicle of John Malalas, trans. E. Jeffreys et al. (Byzantina Australiensia 4, Melbourne, 1986), p. 95]
John the Lydian in his de Mensibus book IV discusses the Brumalia. According to that secondary source it was celebrated between November 24 and December 17. Apparently John says that the people all call it the festival of Cronos (i.e. Saturn). Unfortunately I can’t see the references in that text.
Lydus’ description of the Brumalia, however, hints that the situation was not in fact quite so simple. This popular holiday, celebrated between November 24 and December 17, was a time of dinner parties and wishing one’s friends “vives annos.” It had an extremely long history connected with the celebration of the winter solstice, and Lydus gives many details of the pagan rites associated with it in antiquity. The holiday continued to be celebrated in Lydus’ time, for he notes that “to greet someone by name during the Brumalia is a rather recent development,” and more pointedly, “the truth of the matter is that people call this the festival of Cronos; consequently the Church shrinks away from this affair.” He goes on to tell about Cronos and the association of chthonic demons with the festival. If it were not for the mention of ecclesiastical disapproval, we would not know that the festival had any contemporary dimension at all. This is all the stranger because Agathias reported without censure of any sort that the Brumalia was being celebrated by the citizens of Constantinople at the time of a great earthquake in 577. Malalas also described the contemporary imperial celebration without flinching. We know that Justinian celebrated the Brumalia on a lavish scale with banquets and spectacles throughout the empire, as Choricius of Gaza’s Oration attests. In 521 Justinian had inaugurated his first consulship with magnificent entertainments during the Brumalia (on the day that began with the first letter of his name). As spelled out in Novel 105 some years later, this was in accordance with his attitude about the ceremonial responsibilities of the consulship to provide parades, games, and theatrical productions for the populace. The pious emperor felt no impropriety in celebrating the Brumalia together with the consulship. In another law concerning pagan worship, Justinian reiterated the idea that ancient festivals might be celebrated by his subjects – as long as no pagan sacrifices were performed. We see here the grounds on which he was prepared to celebrate time-honored festivals. He was no more concerned about the “paganism” of the Brumalia than he was about that of the consulship. Both were simply part of the secular ceremonial of everyday late-antique life, as far as the palace and the public were concerned. On one level de Mensibus can be seen as a simple expression of this interest and of the acceptance of certain civic celebrations.
Lydus’ comment on ecclesiastical disapproval, however, suggests a more complicated situation and requires that we look to a later period. Such ceremonial did not forever remain immune from charges of religious impropriety. By the end of the next century, attitudes would change considerably. The Quinisextum Council (“in Trullo” ) held in Constantinople in 692 proscribed in its sixty-second canon celebrations of the kalends, Vota, Brumalia, and Panegyris, festivals going on in Lydus’ Constantinople and all described in de Mensibus as they existed in Roman antiquity. Pagan associations that the church found merely objectionable in Lydus’ day assumed greater significance in the seventh century. Why did Lydus make a point of the church’s censure when the Brumalia was being celebrated without comment by the emperor and devout Christians? He evidently recognized its pagan (as opposed to merely antique) history, but did not wish to elaborate further. Perhaps the antiquarian material had not been completely neutralized after all. [Michael Maas, John Lydus and the Roman past, 1992, p.64-6]
Just as an aside, every time I read a passage of Maas’ excellent book, it makes my fingers itch to commission someone to translate the 111 pages of book 4 of de Mensibus! Or even just the 8 pages on December! It looks as if the passage is on p.174 (PDF p.276) of the 1903 edition which is online. But back to the brumalia.
The festival was proscribed by the Quinsext synod (“in Trullo”) in 692.
Tertullian apparently also mentions the festival (De idololatria 14).
Suggestions are welcome as to where else we might look!
UPDATE: Cato, Agricultura 17.1:
Robus materies, item ridica, ubi solstitium fuerit ad brumam semper tempestiva est. Cetera materies quae semen habet, cum semen maturum habet, tum tempestiva est.
Oak wood and also wood for vine props, is always ripe for cutting at the time of the winter solstice. Other species which bear seed are ripe when the seeds are mature, while those which are seedless are ripe when they shed bark.
Here brumam is used to mean “winter”, as an adjective for solstitium. Or possibly “shortest solstice”?
Varro, De Lingua Latina 6.8:
Alter motus solis est, aliter ac caeli, quod movetur a bruma ad solstitium. Dicta bruma, quod brevissimus tunc dies est; solstitium, quod sol eo die sistere videbatur, quo ad nos versum proximus est. Sol cum venit in medium spatium inter brumam et solstitium, quod dies aequus fit ac nox, aequinoctium dictum. Tempus a bruma ad brumam dum sol redit, vocatur annus, quod ut parvi circuli anuli, sic magni dicebantur circites ani, unde annus.
8. There is a second motion of the sun, differing from that of the sky, in that the motion is from bruma ‘winter’s day’ to solstitium ‘solstice.’ Bruma is so named, because then the day is brevissimus ‘shortest’: the solstitium, because on that day the sol ‘sun’ seems sistere ‘to halt,’ on which it is nearest to us. When the sun has arrived midway between the bruma and the solstitium, it is called the aequinoctium ‘equinox,’ because the day becomes aequus ‘equal’ to the nox ‘night.’ The time from the bruma until the sun returns to the bruma, is called an annus ‘year,’ because just as little circles are anuli ‘rings,’ so big circuits were called ani, whence comes annus ‘year.’
This tells us that the bruma and the solstice are not the same.
Note: thanks to Bill Thayer for spotting the mistyping of De mensibus as De mensuribus! Oops!
More on the Septizodium
The fragmentary map of ancient Rome does show a portion of the Septizodium, an expensive facade designed to impress people arriving at the foot of the Palatine hill up the Appian Way. Here is the fragment.
The photo has East at the top. To the right is one end of the Circus Maximus. The Palatine hill is at the bottom. The Septizodium is the two semi-circles, with pillars in front of them, to the left of the Circus Maximus.
What I do not quite understand, tho, is why people say that this records the form of the name “Septizodium” rather than “Septizonium”. Surely the crucial letter is lost?
Images of the Septizonium from the renaissance
When I was scanning the Chronography of 354, one part of the book was The fourteen regions of Rome. This listed all sorts of monuments, and I was reminded today of a mysterious monument named the Septizonium. It appears on the fragments of the ancient marble map of Rome that I was talking about earlier.
The septizodium stood on a corner of the Palatine hill in Rome, adjacent to the Circus Maximus and overlooking the Via Appia. It was erected by Septimius Severus, according to the Augustan History. It was just a facade, rather like the buildings on a classsical stage. The idea was to put an impressive frontage onto the imperial palace on that side. It had no architectural purpose other than appearance.
At the renaissance some quite impressive remains still stood. Pope Sextus V knocked them down for stone, as the humanists of that period tended to do.
The notes on the university website mentioned that images of it existed in renaissance prints; and I wondered if there were any online. And there are! Here’s one that I found online via Google images, although I was quite unable to locate the source webpage that it was embedded in. Thank you, tho, whoever scanned it.
Another excellent image is here, image url here, which gives a real sense of what the ruin must have looked like, complete with its ceilings.
I wish… I wish we could see these buildings today, even as they stood in 1500.
UPDATE: Bill Thayer has a scanned article on the building here. The Historia Augusta chapter on Severus tells us about the building of it.
UPDATE 2: According to Michael Grant, the remains were demolished by Domenico Fontana in 1588/9. Archaeology confirms that it consisted of three recesses, with a wing on either end. Somewhere along it were seven niches, each containing the statue of a planetary deity (which is probably the origin of the name). A fountain was also involved. Raffaello Fabretti’s 17th century De aquis refers to “the Septizodium, the remains of which used to be visible in the memory of our fathers between the Caelian and the Palatine”. Some references to pictures of the monument are here.
I’ve also found references online to “demolition records” extant today which specify what sort of materials it was made of. These were compiled by Fontana.
Here is a reconstruction of the plan and appearance of the building.
UPDATE: Christopher Ecclestone has drawn my attention to a splendid article on the whole subject, with images and bibliography, exists by Susann L. Lusnia, Urban planning and sculptural display in Severan Rome: reconstructing the Septizodium and its role in dynastic politics. American Journal of Archaeology 108 (2004) p.517-544. This contains all this and more and is highly recommended.
The marble map of Rome
Some notes on Jupiter Dolichenus
In the ruined Roman city of Leptis Magna in Libya there is an impressive set of temple steps leading up to what is now merely a foundation. This was the local temple of a deity little known today, named Jupiter Dolichenus. Jona Lendering has some notes on this site here, and the following image is at his site. Despite visiting Leptis twice, I never quite got as far as the temple, as I never walked around the bottom edge of the silted-up port.
But who is Jupiter Dolichenus?
We shall look in vain for literary mentions; Robin Birley here tells us that there are none. All we have is images with incriptions underneath, and whatever we can deduce from these, from their distribution over the empire, and from the period to which they date. An altar was recently found at Hadrian’s wall, for instance.
An article by C.S.Sanders in an old issue of the Journal of the American Oriental Society (23), p.85 f. gives more details. It seems there is a literary reference, in Stephanus of Byzantium (who?) who tells us that Jupiter Dolichenus came from Doliche, a little town in Commagene in what is now Turkey.
The images are all of the same kind. The god is depicted holding an axe and a thunderbolt, and stood on a bull or ox. The inscriptions are largely from the Severan period, and disappear thereafter.
A temporary god, then; one favoured during the period in the 2-3rd centuries when the filth of the Orontes flooded into the Tiber (Juvenal) and which vanished when times changed.
UPDATE: I have finally located online an image of the deity identified clearly by an inscription. Here it is:
The inscription is from Rome itself and reads:
Iovi Optimo Maximo Dolicheno ex iusso ipsius d(onum) d(edit) / L(ucius) Vibius Felix cum Fulvia Tertia coniuge sua / su<b=P> sacerdot{a}e Aquila Barhadados / dedic(ata) Kal(endis) Mart(iis) Imp(eratore) Commodo Aug(usto) IIII et Auf(idio) Victorino II co(n)s(ulibus)
To Jupiter (Jove) Optimus Maximus Dolichenus, by his own order, gives the gift / Lucius Vibius Felix, with Fulvia Tertia his wife / under the priest Aquila Barhadad. / Dedicated on the kalends of March, the emperor Commodus Augustus for the 4th time and Aufidius Victorinus for the 2nd time being consuls.
The fourth consulate of Commodus dates this to 183 AD, on the 1st of March. The priest Aquila Bar-Hadad has a very biblical name! A Flavius Barhadadi appears in an inscription from Alba Iulia.
Mithras, “protector of the empire”
The silly season is well underway, and daft stories about Christian origins being really pagan — all told with glee — are circulated uncritically and believed unquestioningly by those so inclined. We might reasonably wonder, however, just why every major Christian holiday is subjected to this ritual of debunking, with the evident approval of those in power.
Today’s fairy-story is that in 307 AD the emperor Diocletian proclaimed Mithras as the official protector of the empire. Those of us who know that Mithras was a mystery cult will rub their eyes at this a bit; was Diocletian really adding Mithras to the state cults?
A general google search reveals much hearsay, and suggests that the source of all this is an inscription at Carnutum on the Danube, where Mithras is apparently described as fautor imperii sui. I find a reference to this as C.I.L. III, nr. 4413.
Off to Google books, where some scholarly books might be found. And the magic name “Cumont” starts to appear. Oh blast! Off to Textes et monumentes, and there it is, in vol. 2, page 146, item 367, with a link to 227. Curiously Cumont lists the monument and its inscription separately. Here’s the details.
367. Carnuntum, CIL, III, 4413. Voyez le monument n° 227.
D(eo) S(oli) i(nvicto) M(ithrae) | fautori imperii sui | Iovii et Herculii | religiosissimi
| Augusti et Caesares | sacrarium | restituerunt.Iovii imperatores sunt Diocletianus et liberi eius, sc. lege adoptionis Galerius, Maximinus, Licinii pater et filius, Herculii Maximianus et filius eius Constantius, nec minus Constantii liberi ius eius nominis fuisse patet, etsi Constantinus propter dissensionem cum Galerio et factione eius eo abstinuit. Pertinet autem titulus hic omnino ad a p. C.307 quo caeso a Maxentio Severo altera Augusto Galerius Aug. die Nov. 11 Carnunti praesentibus duobus Augustis senioribus Diocletiano et Maximiano Licinium patrem Augustum creavit [Euseb. ad h. a.; Idat ad h. a.; Auct. de mort. persec. c. 29; Zosim II 10 qui male confudit cum Carnunto Carnutum Galliae]. Fuerunt eo tempore Iovii Augusti tres Diocletianus senior Augustus, Galerius, Licinius,Caesar unus Maximinus ; Herculii Augustus unus Maximianus senior, Caesar item, unus Constantinus quem quamquam exercitus iam a 308 Augustum proclamaverat, tamen Galerius adhuc pro Caesare habuit, ut mittamus hostem communem Maxentium. [Tillemont IV 103 sqq.] E quibus quos affuisse constat Carnunti quattuor Augusti videntur Mithrae votum solvisse et pro se et pro absentibus Caesaribus duobus. [Mommsen.]
Always nice to get a chunk of Latin as explanation.
Monument 227 is on p. 331-2, where there is a picture of the monument (fig. 205). It’s an altar, with a picture of Cautes on one side.
227. — Grand autel [H. 1.45m, L. 0.92 m] au xviii” siècle à Petronell dans la cour du château du comte Traun. Aujourd’hui au musée des antiques de Vienne.
Décrit : Hormayr, l. c, n° 229 ; Labus, Ara Antica di Hainburgo, 1830, p. 9; Arneth, Beschreibung der zum K. K. Miïnz- und Antikencabinet gehorigen Meilensteine, etc., n” 15; cf. CIL, III, 4413. — Reproduit : fig. 205, d’après un croquis.
Sur la face antérieure on lit l’inscription n° 367. Sur le côté gauche, un dadophore dans le costume oriental ordinaire tient de la main droite une torche élevée et de la gauche trois épis. Sur le côté droit, un porte-flambeau semblable abaisse seulement sa torche.
So, we’re dealing with an altar inscription. Consulting Manfred Clauss, The Roman cult of Mithras, I find the following:
We may mention first of all the dedication by the Tetrarchs dating to the year AD 308 (V 1698). On the occasion of their meeting at Carnuntum in Pannonia Superior, Diocletian, now in retirement, together with the ruling emperors, the Iovii et Herculii religiosissimi Augusti et Caesares, dedicated an altar to Mithras as fautor imperii sui, as protector of their empire, and thereby gave expression to an understanding of the god already shared by Mithraists for centuries. Concomitantly, the Tetrarchs had part of Mithraeum III at Carnuntum repaired.
The reference to ‘V 1698’ is to the collection of monuments by Vermaseren, making this CIMRM 1698.
The inscription is thus:
Deo Soli invicto Mithrae, fautori imperii sui; Iovii et Herculii religiosissimi Augusti et Caesares, sacrarium restituerunt.To the unconquered sun-god Mithras, patron/protector/supporter of their imperium; the Joves and Hercules’s, the most religious Augustuses and Caesars, have restored the shrine.
Not quite the same as an official edict creating Mithras the protector of the empire, is it?
As an afterthought, I look in the Clauss-Slaby database. This reveals only 6 inscriptions which use the term fautori, always as “protector”. But… great news, the database people have included a photograph! The link won’t embed in the blog software, so I’ve had to copy the image. The original is here, although that link doesn’t look very permanent. Enjoy it, and think kindly of those chaps in Eichstatt who put it online.
An interesting online colour image of Mithras killing the bull
I was experimenting with the new Microsoft Bing image search, which gave me quite different results to Google image search. One of these caught my eye, on a Dutch forum, here. A better version of the image, this time with real data attached, here. It looks as if both have been scanned from a book, the first not very well. According to the second link, this is a relief from Sterzing in Austria, CIMRM 1400. It says that the colours are modern restoration, based on coloured frescos from Italy.
The image is useful because it is a splendidly clear representation of the cult relief of Mithras, found in every Mithraeum. These depictions of Mithras killing the bull — the tauroctony — vary in the details. If you do a Google search on Mithras, you will find many images of the tauroctony, varying in what is included.
This one contains almost a full set of all the features.
Mithras kneels on the bull and pulls back its head while looking to his right toward the view. On either side stand the demi-god torchbearers, Cautes with torch held up, Cautopates with it down.
Below the bull the snake and the dog reach for the blood of the bull. There is a scorpion seizing the bull’s genitals.
The events take place in a cave; hence the roof above Mithras. At the top left appears Sol with his flaming crown. At the top right is Luna, with her horned moon.
Note the raven next to Sol, and the single extra-long ray of light reaching down from Sol into the cavern and onto Mithras.
At the top there are other animals, and a tabula ansata, or ‘box with a triangle at each end’ which probably had an inscription, now lost. A larger one, again with a lost inscription, is at the bottom.
On either side are panels, showing other elements from the cult myth. These are of great interest, since we have no literary description of them.
The left-hand column shows (from the top) Jupiter battling the giants; Mithras born from the rock; Mithras doing something unrecognisable; Mithras (or possibly Atlas) kneeling, and probably the bull.
The right-hand column shows at the bottom Mithras dragging the bull. Above it is Mithras plus two other figures. Then Mithras, with Sol kneeling before him; then Mithras and Sol shake hands; Mithras gets into the quadriga of the sun. At the top the feast of Sol and Mithras which in other reliefs involves consuming parts of the bull.
Details of the relief may be found here: M.J. Vermaseren, Corpus inscriptionum et monumentorum religionis Mithriacae II (1960) 148ff. No. 1400 Abb. 360; R. Merkelbach, Mithras (1984) 368f. Abb. 132.- R. Vollkommer, s.v. Mithras, LIMC VI (1992) Nr. 156 Abb.
It is interesting that initiation into the rites of Mithras did feature a hand shake, as shown here. Firmicus Maternus comments that they were “initiates of the theft of the bull, united by the handshake of the illustrious father (Pater).” (FM 5.2)
Last ancient reference to the temple of Sol
An article at Lacus Curtius on the temple of Sol Invictus in Rome contains the following interesting statement:
The last reference to it in antiquity is in the sixth century (Anon. de Antiq. Cpl. IV.66, ed. Banduri) when eight of the porphyry columns were sent to Constantinople for the church of S. Sophia…
These abbreviated references in older literature can be a bit of a pain. Who can guess precisely what “de Antiq. Cpl.” is?
Some Google searching reveals that it is Imperium Orientale sive Antiquitates Constantinopolitanae, edited by Anselmo Banduri and published in Paris in 1711. A copy is being sold at auction somewhere for doubtless significant money. A google book search reveals evidence of the book’s existence, but sadly no copies. I would have liked to see what the text actually said.
But a further search for a title of “imperium orientale” did bring up some interesting things:
-
Constantine Porphyrogenitus, De thematibus (1588): http://books.google.com/books?id=XeYPAAAAQAAJ, from the BNF in Paris.
-
Another copy: http://books.google.com/books?id=sB0PAAAAQAAJ
-
And a Kessinger reprint of it: http://books.google.com/books?id=TgY4QAAACAAJ
So not entirely wasted effort; but I would like to see all the data on the Temple of Sol Invictus tabulated, pictures of whatever remained at the renaissance — so much was destroyed during this period! — all on one web page.
It is remarkable how little Google images gives us, if you search for pictures online of classical topics. The same few scanty images of Mithras represent the vast body of sculpture; likewise with Sol. Someone ought to go down to a museum with a camera and just mass upload images! (Although I notice that if you add them to Picasa, Google images does not pick them up!)