Category: Italy

Posted on

The Raven, the Palladium and the White Hill of London February 18th

Shows a photo of a missing Raven at the Tower of London
The Independent January 2021 The Raven the Palladium of Britain

The Raven – the Palladium of Britain

Corvus corax is hatching. An early nesting bird, the Raven is the biggest of the Corvids. They were pushed to the west and north by farmers and game keepers but are making a comeback. They are finding towns convenient for their scavenging habits. So they, again, cover most of the UK except the eastern areas.

Their habits, and their black plumage has made them harbingers of death. In poetry, Ravens glut on blood like the warriors whose emblem they are. Here is a very famous quotation from Y Gododdin, a medieval poem but thought to derive from a poem by the great poet Aneirin from the 7th Century.

‘He glutted black ravens on the rampart of the stronghold, though he was no Arthur.’

Aneirin

This is one of the much argued-about references to King Arthur in the ‘Was he a real person’ argument. The point being, it doesn’t make sense if there wasn’t an Arthur. The story at the Tower of London is that the Ravens kept in the Tower, with clipped wings, keep Britain safe from Invasion.

A Palladium is something that keeps a city or country safe, They are named after a wooden statue of Pallas Athene, which protected Troy. Perceiving this, Odysseus and Diomedes stole the Palladium from Troy shortly before the Trojan Horse episode. The palladium then went to Italy (I’m guessing with Diomedes who is said to have founded several cities in Italy), and ended up in Rome.

The Romans claimed to be descendants of Trojan exiles led by Aeneas. So it was back with its rightful owners. It protected Rome until it was transferred to the new Roman capital at Constantinople, and then disappeared, presumably allowing the Ottoman Turks to conquer the City of Caesar.

Bran’s Head – the original Palladium of Britain?

The Raven was also the symbol of the God-King Bran. Bran was one of the legendary Kings of Britain. His sister, Branwen, was married to the King of Ireland. To cut a long story short, Branwen was exiled by her Irish husband to the scullery. She trained a starling to smuggle a message to her brother, to tell of her abuse.

So Bran took an army over the Irish Sea to restore her to her rightful state. But the ships were becalmed. Mighty Bran blew the boats across the sea – he was that much a hero.

Bran was mortality wounded in the battle that followed. This was a problem because he had given away his cauldron of immortality.  He gave it to the Irish King in recompense for the insults given to the Irish by Bran’s brother, who hated anyone not British.

So, the dying Bran, told his companions to cut off his own head and take it back to the White Hill in London. His head was as good a companion on the way back as it was on the way out, and the journey home took 90 years.

At last, they got to London where he told his men to bury his head on the White Hill. As long as it stays here, he said, Britain would be safe from foreign invasion.

This was one of the Three Fortunate Concealments and is found in ‘the Triads of the Island of Britain.’

A raven landing with a brown background
By Sonny Mauricio from Unsplash

But many years later, King Arthur saw no need for anybody or anything other than himself to protect the realm. So he had the head dug up. Calamity followed in the shapes of Sir Lancelot and Mordred which led to the end of the golden age of Camelot and conquest of Britain by the Saxons.This was one of the Three Unfortunate Disclosures.

The White Hill is said to be Tower Hill with its summit at Trinity Gardens, although Primrose Hill is sometimes offered as an alternative. If we want a rational explanation for the story, there is evidence that Celtic cultures venerated the skull, and palladiums play a part in Celtic Tales.

So what was Arthur doing destroying the palladium that kept Britain safe? Vanity is the answer the story gives. But, perhaps, it’s a memory of Christian rites taking over from pagan rituals. God, Arthur might have thought, would prefer to protect his people himself rather than Christians having to rely on a pagan cult object.

The story of Bran’s head is inevitably linked to the Ravens in the Tower who, it is still said, keep us safe from invasion.  As you can see from the photo are the top we still get in a tiz when one goes missing.

Sadly, and I am probably sadder about this than most others, the link between the Tower, Bran and the Ravens cannot be substantiated. Geoffrey Parnell, who is a friend of mine, told me that while working at the Tower of London he searched the records assiduously for the story of the ravens.  He found no evidence of the Raven myth & the Tower before the 19th Century and concluded that it was most likely a Victorian invention.

The Welsh Triads give a total of three palladiums for Britain.

Three Fortunate Concealments of the Island of Britain;

The Head of Bran the Blessed, son of Llyr, which was concealed in the White Hill in London, with its face towards France. And as long as it was in the position in which it was put there, no Saxon Oppression would ever come to this Island;
The second Fortunate Concealment: the Dragons in Dinas Emrys, which llud son of Beli concealed;
And the third: the Bones of Gwerthefyr the Blessed, in the Chief Ports of this Island. And as long as they remained in that concealment, no Saxon Oppression would ever come to this Island.

All good but then came the three unfortunate disclosures:

And there were the Three Unfortunate Disclosures when these were disclosed.
And Gwrtheyrn the Thin disclosed the bones of Gwerthefyr the Blessed for the love of a woman: that was Ronnwen the pagan woman;
And it was he who disclosed the Dragons;
And Arthur disclosed the head of Bran the Blessed from the White Hill, because it did not seem right to him that this Island should be defended by the strength of anyone, but by his own.

Gwrtheyrn is Vortigen, the leader of the Britons after the fall of the Roman Empire in Britain, one or two leaders before Arthur. Vortigern, which means something like strong leader in Welsh was a real person in so far as he, unlike Arthur, is mentioned by Gildas a near contemporary source.

The story of the dragons is supposedly from the pre-roman Iron Age.  Every May Day, they made a terrible noise, causing miscarriages and other misfortunes. So, King Ludd, whom legends says gave his name to London (Ludd’s Dun or Ludd’s walled City), drugged the dragons.  He had them buried in a cavern at Dinas Emrys in Eryri (Snowdonia). The Dragons represented the Britons and the Saxons.

Hundreds of years later, after the Romans have come and gone.  Vortigern is trying to build a castle in Eryri at Dinas Emrys.  But the walls keep falling down. You need the blood of a boy born not of man, his necromancers say.  They find a boy called Ambrosius aka Merlin whose mother has lain with an incubus.  Merlin accuses the necromancers of ignorance and explains the wall collapse is caused by two dragons.  They let the dragons go.  The walls now stand undisturbed. But the Welsh Red Dragon and the Saxon White Dragon can not be at peace, and the Britons are defeated by the Saxons.

Gwerthefyr is Vortimer, the son of Vortigern, who was better than his dad and was fighting to keep the Saxons out, but his father betrayed his own people for the lust of Rowena the daughter of Hengist, the Saxon.

After Vortimer’s death his bones were buried at the chief ports on the South Coast and they kept the country safe.  But they were moved to Billingsgate. This allowed the Saxons to land safely on the Kent coast and consolidate their increasing hold over Britain and turning it into England.

Written in February 21 revised in February 18th 23, 24, 25

Posted on

The Festival of Fools, Fornacalia and Fornication February 17th

Mosaic of a man taking a loaf of bread out of a bread oven
Mosaic of Roman Bread Oven France

Fornacalia was a corn festival that took place around February 7th to the 17th. Romans were assigned days to celebrate (see below) but the last day, today, was reserved for those fools who did not know their proper day.

Pliny the Elder says it was King Numa Pompilius (753-673 BC), who established Fornacalia, The Feast of Ovens. Fornacalia celebrated Fornax who was the Goddess of the Oven – specifically the grain oven for drying grain. The word for oven is also Fornax, from which we probably derive our word furnace.

The Annona

Rome had a population of one million people, and keeping them fed was a difficult task. So the celebration of Fornacalia was an important feast designed to protect Rome’s all important grain supply. The Imperial Government took on the responsibility of providing the grain in a system called the Annona. and provided the Citizens with free bread. The Italian Annona brought much of its grain from Egypt.

Londinium & the Annona

Dominic Perring in his recent book on Roman London (Londinium in the Roman Empire) speculates that the fluctuating fortunes of London was dependent upon the routing of a northern Annona through Londinium. When the Emperor was engaged with the North Western Empire London thrived, when he wasn’t interested it declined.

Organising the Fornaclia and the Curio Maximus

The Festivals in Rome were organised by the Curio Maximus who was a priest who supervised the curiae. In Rome the citizens were arranged, originally, into the 3 ancient tribes of Rome (founded in the 8th Century BC). The Tribes were supposed to represent the ancient ethnic groups. These were the Ramnes the Latin population, the Tities the Sabines, and the Luceres the Etruscans. The tribes were then divided into 10 curiae each. So there were 30 curiae.

Each Roman was supposed to be assigned to one of the curiae, which had a religious, social and voting function. The name may come from ‘co-viria – a gathering of men’. The members of the curiae were known as curiales. Each curiae had their own priest, or curio, and assistant priest ‘flamen curialis‘. And they organised the religious ceremonies of the curiae. They met in a meeting place called the curia.

So the Curio Maximus would declare when a festival was to be held, and get the curiae to organise the celebrations at the curia. I hope you are still with me! They would choose a date, for example for the Fornacalia, between about the 7th Feb and the 17th of February. And the citizens would go to their curia where there would be a ceremonial roasting of the grain, and baking into bread which would be in honour of the Goddess Fornax.

Ovid & the Feast of Fools

Ovid, who wrote his almanac poem on the Roman festivals (Fasti), reveals many of these details. He points out that many people didn’t know which curiae they were in. So they would celebrate on the last day of the Festival, which, therefore, became known as the Feast of Fools.

Learn too why this day is called the Feast of Fools.
The reason for it is trivial but fitting.
The earth of old was farmed by ignorant men:
Fierce wars weakened their powerful bodies.
There was more glory in the sword than the plough:
And the neglected farm brought its owner little return.
Yet the ancients sowed corn, corn they reaped,
Offering the first fruits of the corn harvest to Ceres.
Taught by practice they parched it in the flames,
And incurred many losses through their own mistakes.
Sometimes they’d sweep up burnt ash and not corn,
Sometimes the flames took their huts themselves:
The oven was made a goddess, Fornax: the farmers
Pleased with her, prayed she’d regulate the grain’s heat.
Now the Curio Maximus, in a set form of words, declares
The shifting date of the Fornacalia, the Feast of Ovens:
And round the Forum hang many tablets,
On which every ward displays its particular sign.
Foolish people don’t know which is their ward,
So they hold the feast on the last possible day.

Book II: February 17 From: Fasti, Book 2. Translated by A.S Kline and available here

For more information: www.vindolanda.com/blog/celebrating-the-fornacalia wikipedia.org/wiki/Fornacalia

Fornication

Someone told me that the Roman word for the person who looked after a furnace was the fornicator. And as heat was a ’cause’ of lust, fornicators well, they fornicated.

However, others derive the word from the word Fornix, which is an arch. And arches, it was said, was where the Brothels were, hence fornicator. Not sure I’m going with that idea that Brothels were always under arches. But have a look at the online etymology dictionary’s definition which might help you make up your mind:

from Late Latin fornicationem (nominative fornicatio), noun of action from past-participle stem of fornicari “to fornicate,” from Latin fornix (genitive fornicis) “brothel” (Juvenal, Horace), originally “arch, vaulted chamber, a vaulted opening, a covered way,” probably an extension, based on appearance, from a source akin to fornus “brick oven of arched or domed shape” (from PIE root *gwher- “to heat, warm”). Strictly, “voluntary sex between an unmarried man and an unmarried woman;” extended in the Bible to adultery. The sense extension in Latin is perhaps because Roman prostitutes commonly solicited from under the arches of certain buildings.

As you can see it’s a big old mix-up of arches, brothels, brick ovens, all quite unconvincing, so I’m sticking with my over-heated stoker theory.

To find out more about Ovid and his Almanac look at my post here.

First published February 2023 and revised and republished 17th February 2024, 2025

Posted on

Lupercalia, Parentalia and Februarius February 15th

Romulus and remus suckling from a wolf
Romulus and Remus suckling from a wolf

Lupercalia was a Roman feast of purification. It was dedicated to the she-wolf who saved Romulus and Remus, the traditional founders of the City of Rome. The centre of the festivities in Rome was a cave called the Lupercal. This was, supposedly, where the wolf suckled the twin brothers until they were rescued by Faustulus, a shepherd.

The Lupercalia was also called dies Februatus. The word seems to be derived from proto-italic word februum for purification by making an offering. The purification instruments were called februa. This is the basis for the Roman month named Februarius and our February.

The deity of the month was Neptune.

Parentalia

We are also in the middle of the Parentalia, which began on the 13th February and lasted nine days. It honoured parents and family ancestors. People would visit the family tombs found along the roadsides outside of the City. Here they would honour the ancestors by making offerings.

Goddesses of the Family Heath

There would be a family banquet and offerings made to the Lares – the household deities.  Romans had a household altar for their worship. The Greek Goddess Hestia was the Goddess of the Hearth – the centre of any household, and Vestal was the Roman equivalent. Dickens borrowed the concept of the Household Gods in his Christmas book ‘the Chimes’.

According to Wikipedia the Codex-Calendar of 354, shows that 13 February had become the holiday Virgo Vestalis parentat. This was a public holiday which by then appears to have replaced the older Parentalia.

For more on Roman Burials and the Festivals of the dead look at my post here:

The Day that Christ overcame the devil is a day off work

In the Laws of King Alfred the Great, February 15th, the day Christ overcame the devil, was a day off for freemen.  I think this is the day Jesus overcame temptation in the Desert – normally the first day in Lent. Lent of course varies with the date of Easter, but the law code says the 15th is the day off.  I delve more into Days off in the Anglo Saxon Calender on August 15th.

Posted on

Daffodils & Narcissus, the Fabulous Boy February 11th

Daffodils & Narcissus. Dr. Otto Wilhelm Thomé; Flora von Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz Flora von Deutschland, Österreich und der Schweiz — in Wort und Bild für Schule und Haus

In 2023, I saw my first Daffodil in Hackney in a Council Estate on 12 January. My first daffodil in 2024 was outside my first floor window in early February. In 2025, I can see the shoots of Daffodils in my garden but nothing blooming. However, there are the first daffodils in my area by the side of a different Council Estate. They bring such joy and hope for the return of the Sun.

12 Jan 2023. Hackney, London, the first Daffodil.

Narcissus the Flower

Their formal name is Narcissus. The Roman natural historian, Pliny tells us that the plant was:

‘named Narcissus from narkē not from the fabulous boy.’

Narkē is the Greek word from which we derive the word narcotic. It is a reference to the narcotic properties of the narcissus. An extract of the bulb applied to open wounds produced numbness of the whole nervous system and paralysis of the heart. The flowers are also slightly poisonous. So, they were used as an emetic. They brought on vomiting when it was felt necessary that the stomach be emptied. It was used to treat hysteria and epilepsy. They treated children with bronchial catarrh or epidemic dysentery. Among Arabian doctors, it was used to cure baldness and as an aphrodisiac. (Source: A Modern Herbal by Mrs M Grieve.) Please remember these are not recommendations for use medicinally, but are historic uses and may be dangerous.

Daffodils & Narcissus the Fabulous Boy

The fabulous boy, mentioned by Pliny, was Narcissus. He, according to the Roman Poet Ovid, met the nymph Echo, and she fell in love with the beautiful boy. He spurned her, and she faded until all that remained of her was her voice – the echo we hear.

Nemesis, the Goddess of Revenge (the one with the fiery sword) decided on revenge upon the handsome boy. She lured the thirsty youth to a fountain, where he saw an image of a breathtakingly handsome boy. He fell instantly in love with such beauty. But it was an image of himself. Realising he would never meet anyone as fabulous as himself, he faded from life. He eventually metamorphised into a white and yellow flower, which was named after him.

Nemesis from the painting on the Staircase at Hampton Court by Antonio Verrio, Photo K Flude

Daffodils & Shakespeare

Daffodils are mentioned in a list of Spring Flowers by Shakespeare in the pastoral play The Winter’s Tale:

(Please note that as you read Shakespeare’s words below that Prosperpina is the wife of Pluto, the God of the Underworld, Dis, is another name for him, Cytherea is the Goddess of Beauty and Love. Phoebus is the Sun God. And the Spring Flowers are Daffodils, violets, primroses, oxlips(primula), Crown Imperial (Fritillaria imperialis), Lilies, flower-De-luce (Iris)

Perdita to Camillo

Out, alas!
You’d be so lean that blasts of January
Would blow you through and through.
(To Florizel)
I would I had some flowers o’th’ spring, that might
Become your time of day –
(to the Shepherdesses)
That wear upon your virgin branches yet
Your maidenheads growing. O Proserpina,
For the flowers now that, frighted, thou let’st fall
From Dis’s waggon! Daffodils,
That come before the swallow dares, and take
The winds of March with beauty; violets, dim,
But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes
Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses,
That die unmarried ere they can behold
Bright Phoebus in his strength – a malady
Most incident to maids; bold oxlips and
The crown imperial; lilies of all kinds,
The flower-de-luce being one: O, these I lack
To make you garlands of, and my sweet friend
To strew him o’er and o’er!WT IV.iv.110.2

The reference to Daffodils suggests that for Shakespeare they are around to withstand the March Winds before the Swallows arrive in April. With selective breeding, early flowering species have been developed. Now February and even January are within the scope of the glorious bulb. (here is a post on winter flowering varieties)

Below is the text of Ovid’s Echo and NarcissusTranslated by Brookes Moore

NARCISSUS AND ECHO, THE HOUSE OF CADMUS

Once a noisy Nymph, (who never held her tongue when others spoke, who never spoke till others had begun) mocking Echo, spied him as he drove, in his delusive nets, some timid stags.—For Echo was a Nymph, in olden time,—and, more than vapid sound,—possessed a form: and she was then deprived the use of speech, except to babble and repeat the words, once spoken, over and over. Juno confused her silly tongue, because she often held that glorious goddess with her endless tales, till many a hapless Nymph, from Jove’s embrace, had made escape adown a mountain. But for this, the goddess might have caught them. Thus the glorious Juno, when she knew her guile; “Your tongue, so freely wagged at my expense, shall be of little use; your endless voice, much shorter than your tongue.” At once the Nymph was stricken as the goddess had decreed;—and, ever since, she only mocks the sounds of others’ voices, or, perchance, returns their final words.

One day, when she observed Narcissus wandering in the pathless woods, she loved him and she followed him, with soft and stealthy tread.—The more she followed him the hotter did she burn, as when the flame flares upward from the sulphur on the torch. Oh, how she longed to make her passion known! To plead in soft entreaty! to implore his love! But now, till others have begun, a mute of Nature she must be. She cannot choose but wait the moment when his voice may give to her an answer. Presently the youth, by chance divided from his trusted friends, cries loudly, “Who is here?” and Echo, “Here!” Replies. Amazed, he casts his eyes around, and calls with louder voice, “Come here!” “Come here!” She calls the youth who calls.—He turns to see who calls him and, beholding naught exclaims, “Avoid me not!” “Avoid me not!” returns. He tries again, again, and is deceived by this alternate voice, and calls aloud; “Oh let us come together!” Echo cries, “Oh let us come together!” Never sound seemed sweeter to the Nymph, and from the woods she hastens in accordance with her words, and strives to wind her arms around his neck. He flies from her and as he leaves her says, “Take off your hands! you shall not fold your arms around me. Better death than such a one should ever caress me!” Naught she answers save, “Caress me!” Thus rejected she lies hid in the deep woods, hiding her blushing face with the green leaves; and ever after lives concealed in lonely caverns in the hills. But her great love increases with neglect; her miserable body wastes away, wakeful with sorrows; leanness shrivels up her skin, and all her lovely features melt, as if dissolved upon the wafting winds—nothing remains except her bones and voice—her voice continues, in the wilderness; her bones have turned to stone. She lies concealed in the wild woods, nor is she ever seen on lonely mountain range; for, though we hear her calling in the hills, ’tis but a voice, a voice that lives, that lives among the hills.

Thus he deceived the Nymph and many more, sprung from the mountains or the sparkling waves; and thus he slighted many an amorous youth.—and therefore, some one whom he once despised, lifting his hands to Heaven, implored the Gods, “If he should love deny him what he loves!” and as the prayer was uttered it was heard by Nemesis, who granted her assent.

There was a fountain silver-clear and bright, which neither shepherds nor the wild she-goats, that range the hills, nor any cattle’s mouth had touched—its waters were unsullied—birds disturbed it not; nor animals, nor boughs that fall so often from the trees. Around sweet grasses nourished by the stream grew; trees that shaded from the sun let balmy airs temper its waters. Here Narcissus, tired of hunting and the heated noon, lay down, attracted by the peaceful solitudes and by the glassy spring. There as he stooped to quench his thirst another thirst increased. While he is drinking he beholds himself reflected in the mirrored pool—and loves; loves an imagined body which contains no substance, for he deems the mirrored shade a thing of life to love. He cannot move, for so he marvels at himself, and lies with countenance unchanged, as if indeed a statue carved of Parian marble. Long, supine upon the bank, his gaze is fixed on his own eyes, twin stars; his fingers shaped as Bacchus might desire, his flowing hair as glorious as Apollo’s, and his cheeks youthful and smooth; his ivory neck, his mouth dreaming in sweetness, his complexion fair and blushing as the rose in snow-drift white. All that is lovely in himself he loves, and in his witless way he wants himself:—he who approves is equally approved; he seeks, is sought, he burns and he is burnt. And how he kisses the deceitful fount; and how he thrusts his arms to catch the neck that’s pictured in the middle of the stream! Yet never may he wreathe his arms around that image of himself. He knows not what he there beholds, but what he sees inflames his longing, and the error that deceives allures his eyes. But why, O foolish boy, so vainly catching at this flitting form? The cheat that you are seeking has no place. Avert your gaze and you will lose your love, for this that holds your eyes is nothing save the image of yourself reflected back to you. It comes and waits with you; it has no life; it will depart if you will only go.

Nor food nor rest can draw him thence—outstretched upon the overshadowed green, his eyes fixed on the mirrored image never may know their longings satisfied, and by their sight he is himself undone. Raising himself a moment, he extends his arms around, and, beckoning to the murmuring forest; “Oh, ye aisled wood was ever man in love more fatally than I? Your silent paths have sheltered many a one whose love was told, and ye have heard their voices. Ages vast have rolled away since your forgotten birth, but who is he through all those weary years that ever pined away as I? Alas, this fatal image wins my love, as I behold it. But I cannot press my arms around the form I see, the form that gives me joy. What strange mistake has intervened betwixt us and our love? It grieves me more that neither lands nor seas nor mountains, no, nor walls with closed gates deny our loves, but only a little water keeps us far asunder. Surely he desires my love and my embraces, for as oft I strive to kiss him, bending to the limpid stream my lips, so often does he hold his face fondly to me, and vainly struggles up. It seems that I could touch him. ‘Tis a strange delusion that is keeping us apart. Whoever thou art, Come up! Deceive me not! Oh, whither when I fain pursue art thou? Ah, surely I am young and fair, the Nymphs have loved me; and when I behold thy smiles I cannot tell thee what sweet hopes arise. When I extend my loving arms to thee thine also are extended me—thy smiles return my own. When I was weeping, I have seen thy tears, and every sign I make thou cost return; and often thy sweet lips have seemed to move, that, peradventure words, which I have never heard, thou hast returned. No more my shade deceives me, I perceive ‘Tis I in thee—I love myself—the flame arises in my breast and burns my heart—what shall I do? Shall I at once implore? Or should I linger till my love is sought? What is it I implore? The thing that I desire is mine—abundance makes me poor. Oh, I am tortured by a strange desire unknown to me before, for I would fain put off this mortal form; which only means I wish the object of my love away. Grief saps my strength, the sands of life are run, and in my early youth am I cut off; but death is not my bane—it ends my woe.—I would not death for this that is my love, as two united in a single soul would die as one.”

He spoke; and crazed with love, returned to view the same face in the pool; and as he grieved his tears disturbed the stream, and ripples on the surface, glassy clear, defaced his mirrored form. And thus the youth, when he beheld that lovely shadow go; “Ah whither cost thou fly? Oh, I entreat thee leave me not. Alas, thou cruel boy thus to forsake thy lover. Stay with me that I may see thy lovely form, for though I may not touch thee I shall feed my eyes and soothe my wretched pains.” And while he spoke he rent his garment from the upper edge, and beating on his naked breast, all white as marble, every stroke produced a tint as lovely as the apple streaked with red, or as the glowing grape when purple bloom touches the ripening clusters. When as glass again the rippling waters smoothed, and when such beauty in the stream the youth observed, no more could he endure. As in the flame the yellow wax, or as the hoar-frost melts in early morning ‘neath the genial sun; so did he pine away, by love consumed, and slowly wasted by a hidden flame. No vermeil bloom now mingled in the white of his complexion fair; no strength has he, no vigor, nor the comeliness that wrought for love so long: alas, that handsome form by Echo fondly loved may please no more.

But when she saw him in his hapless plight, though angry at his scorn, she only grieved. As often as the love-lore boy complained, “Alas!” “Alas!” her echoing voice returned; and as he struck his hands against his arms, she ever answered with her echoing sounds. And as he gazed upon the mirrored pool he said at last, “Ah, youth beloved in vain!” “In vain, in vain!” the spot returned his words; and when he breathed a sad “farewell!” “Farewell!” sighed Echo too. He laid his wearied head, and rested on the verdant grass; and those bright eyes, which had so loved to gaze, entranced, on their own master’s beauty, sad Night closed. And now although among the nether shades his sad sprite roams, he ever loves to gaze on his reflection in the Stygian wave. His Naiad sisters mourned, and having clipped their shining tresses laid them on his corpse: and all the Dryads mourned: and Echo made lament anew. And these would have upraised his funeral pyre, and waved the flaming torch, and made his bier; but as they turned their eyes where he had been, alas he was not there! And in his body’s place a sweet flower grew, golden and white, the white around the gold.

First published in February 2023, revise and republished in February 2024, 2025

Posted on

St Agatha, Ravenna and Motor Cycling in Inferno

Procession of female saints leaving Classis (bottom left) behind the Three Kings heading to the Virgin Mary (bottom right between four angels). Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo (pic. Wikipedia)

When I revised my Saint Agatha post (link see below), I felt I needed an early image of Agatha.  After all, her cult spread early on, and therefore, was likely to be genuine.

As I started to track down her image I was led, with some joy, to one of the most amazing Churches in the wonderful town of Ravenna. I visited the Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo with some wonderment when working as an archaeologist at Ferrara, in Emilia-Romagna. I found out that Agatha was one of 22 female Saints on one of the walls. I discovered a pretty comprehensive description of the Church. As I looked at it, I found the record was made by, or involved, Professor Bryan Ward-Perkins. He was the Director of the site my friends and I worked on in Ferrara!

Medieval Excavation in Ferrara. The author is in the centre of the photo,

Ravenna

I’m guessing Bryan suggested we visit Ravenna on one of our trips to the beach at nearby Rimini. Ravenna was so awesome because the City became the capital of the Roman Empire in the west. It took over when Rome fell, then it was part of the Ostrogothic Kingdom, then of the Byzantine Empire. It spanned the period of the Arian Heresy.

And so, it was provided with some of the great glories of 5th and 6th Century Architecture. These include the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, the Neronian Baptistery, the Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo, the Arian Baptistery, the Archiepiscopal Chapel, the Mausoleum of Theodoric, the Church of San Vitale and the Basilica of Sant’Apollinare in Classe.. Its hard to overestimate the impact on a young British archaeologist of seeing 5th Century buildings with roofs and astonishingly detailed mosaics still intact. Please visit!

Detail showing the first four female saints behind the Three Kings. Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo wikipedia

Bryan Ward-Perkins description says ‘All the saints are haloed, bear crowns and are dressed in elaborate court dress. Unlike the men …., all have essentially the same youthful features. The only saint with a distinguishing attribute is Agnes, who is accompanied by a lamb ‘ St Agatha, the list says, is the Saint next to Agnes with her lamb; the third in precedent. You can see her above and in detail below.

St Agatha
Basilica of Sant’Apollinare Nuovo wikipedia

Motorcycling from Ravenna to Inferno

Enough of the sublime! Now for the ridiculous. Whether on this visit or another, we decided to have a day at the beach at Rimini. After the day on the beach, a collective decision to stay over was made. The reason was to go to one of the big clubs (did we still call them discos?) probably to dance to ‘Frankie Goes to Hollywood’.

Archaeologists, Italian and English, on the beach at Lido di Spina

However, the hotels were all full. So I decided, late at night to go back to Ferrara, on my own on my 175 cc Yamaha motor bike.

My Yamaha 175cc bike looked something like this but was red. A thing of underpowered beauty.

Thing was, I had started the day in Ferrara in the blazing Italian summer heat. So, I had and hopped onto my bike dressed in shorts and t-shirt. Ferrara was 77 miles away (says google). One hour into the trip back I was getting pretty cold, and really not enjoying driving through the lonely countryside. So I decided to pull off the main road to find a rural hostelry for what remained of the night.

Now, I remember this very vividly – the only likely road I could find was signposted to ‘Inferno’. I shrugged my shoulders, wondering what that was about, and drove towards it on a very deserted road. Eventually, I came to a sign which told me I was about to enter ‘Inferno’.

There was something very surreal about the situation. My courage failed me! I was not going to stay in a ‘motel’ in a place called ‘inferno’! I had seen too many horror films set in Motels and one in Inferno seemed madness. So, I turned round and continued my cold journey to Ferrara.

Inferno

Whenever I tell this story, I have some doubt about this story. Did I really drive into a place called ‘Inferno’? But I have, for the first time, checked Google. It tells me that the road off the Rimini to Ferrara road goes through somewhere called: Vicolo Inferno, 40026 Imola BO, Italy.

Below is yesterday’s post about St Agatha of Sicily who has a most interesting story.

St Agatha Feast Day February 5th

Written in 2023 and updated in 2024, 2025

Posted on

St Agatha Feast Day February 5th

Saint Agatha, detail from a painting of Francisco de Zurbarán FROM wikipedia
Saint Agatha, detail from a painting of Francisco de Zurbarán – she is carrying her severed breasts

She is a Sicilian Saint, who refused to sleep with a powerful Roman (Quintianus) in the third Century. St Agatha was imprisoned, tortured, had her breasts pincered off, and still refused to sleep with him and died in prison. She is remembered in Sicily by cakes shaped as breasts eaten on her feast day (I kid you not).

breast shaped cakes called Minne di Sant'Agata, a typical Sicilian sweet
Minne di Sant’Agata, Sicilian (Wikipedia)

She was martyred, at the age of 20 (231-251AD), in the last year of the reign of Emperor Decius (c. 201 AD – June 251 AD). Thus, she is an early martyr whose cult was established in antiquity. But many of the details of her life and death are, as usual, apocryphal and from later traditions.

St Agatha Patronage

‘She is also the patron saint of rape victims, breast cancer patients, martyrs, wet nurses, bell-founders, and bakers. She is invoked against fire, earthquakes, and eruptions of Mount Etna.’

(Wikipedia).
St Agatha's Church, Kingston on Thames black and white illustration
St Agatha’s Church, Kingston on Thames

Bell Founders and Bakers? So, the bakers and bell founders, it is suggested, may have mistaken the trays of breasts as bells or loaves? Unlikely in my opinion, as Google image search shows they look clearly like breasts. They are cakes, of course, so that can help explain the Bakers, but the Bell Founders?

Results of a search for images of St Agatha in Google

St Agatha and Etna

Detail of a Portrait of St Agatha by Cariana (Paintedin 1516-17). In the backgrouns is Catania

A year after her death, Mount Etna erupted. According to the story, the Christians of her home town of Catania lifted the Martyr’s veil towards the flowing lava. And the City was saved as the lava flow stopped. Hence, she protects against eruptions and by extension, earthquakes, and fire. This part of the story I got from my friend Derek who sent me the link to a piece written by Father Patrick van der Vorst. This also has the full image of the detail of painting by Cariani I show here.

For an explanation of gory matrydom’s please read my post on St Blaise.

For more on St Agatha, Ravenna, and a story about my motorcycling days please look at this post.

First published in 2024, and republished in 2025.

Posted on

Pax, the Concordia Peace Festival, Elagabalus, and Carausius January 29th

Photo from ebay sale of coin of Carausius, showing the reverse with image of the Roman Goddess Pax.

The Goddess Book of Days (Diane Stein) lists today as the birthday of Pax and her Greek equivalent Irene. She is the Goddess of Peace and the daughter of Jupiter and the Justitia, Goddess of Justice. This suggests that a lasting peace can only be assured by strength and justice. The usurping Emperor Carausius (whose coin you can see above) had good reason to use Pax on his coins. He took control of Britain and some of Gaul from the Roman Empire. But he seems hoped he might rule alongside the Tetrachy of Emperors set up by Diocletian.

This is what Eutropius wrote:

Image of a quotation by Eutropius translation from 'Literary Sources for Roman Britain.' and from

He was murdered by Allectus his financial minister in 296AD. Text above taken from my book In Their Own Words where you can read the rest of Carausius’ story.

Concordia

The Goddess book also says this is the day of the Concordia Peace Festival in Rome. Concordia is the Goddess of agreement, in war, marriage and in civic society. Harmonia is the Greek equivalent. Ovid has special days to Concordia on January 17th and January 30th. I’m led to the idea that much of January was dedicated to Concordia and Pax. For more on Concordia, look at my January 17th post here.

Pax in Ovid

Pax had her festival on the 30th January. Ovid in Fasti writes:

Book I: January 30
My song has led to the altar of Peace itself.
This day is the second from the month’s end.
Come, Peace, your graceful tresses wreathed
With laurel of Actium: stay gently in this world.
While we lack enemies, or cause for triumphs:
You’ll be a greater glory to our leaders than war.
May the soldier be armed to defend against arms,
And the trumpet blare only for processions.
May the world far and near fear the sons of Aeneas,
And let any land that feared Rome too little, love her.
Priests, add incense to the peaceful flames,
Let a shining sacrifice fall, brow wet with wine,
And ask the gods who favour pious prayer
That the house that brings peace, may so endure.
Now the first part of my labour is complete,
And as its month ends, so does this book.

Translated by A. S. Kline 2004 (Tony has a lovely site here: where he makes his translations freely available.)

Concordia, Julia Aquilia Severa & Elagabalus

Roman coin, showing both sides, of the Goddess Concordia
A patera is a sacrificial bowl, and a cornucopia is a horn of plenty (Image from Wikipedia)

The coin above is of Julia Aquilia Severa. She was a vestal virgin, who married the Emperor Elagabalus (c. 204 – 11/12 March 222). She was his 2nd and 4th wife. Normally, a vestal virgin was buried alive, if she lost her virginity.

But I probably should say ‘her 2nd and 4th wife’ as some sources suggest Elgabalus wanted to be known as a woman. The Wikipedia page of his wife has Elagabalus with the pronoun, ‘Her’. While the Emperor’s own web page uses him throughout. He or she married several women and was said by some to be married to several men. They were also accused of prostituting themself in Taverns and Brothels. Clear? Confusing pronouns? Sorry to hedge my bets, but we don’t know what Elagabalus would want us to use? Wikipedia says:

‘In November 2023, the North Hertfordshire Museum in Hitchin, United Kingdom, announced that Elagabalus would be considered as transgender and hence referred to with female pronouns in its exhibits due to claims that the emperor had said “call me not Lord, for I am a Lady”‘

Elagabalus was born Sextus Varius Avitus Bassianus. He adopted the name of Elagabalus as he was a supporter of Syrian Sun God Elagabal. He, a Syrian, wanted to promote the God to the top of the Roman Pantheon of Gods. Varius rose to power partly because of his strong Grandmother, Julia Maesa. She was the sister of Julia Domna, the wife of African Emperor Septimus Severus (who lived for some time in York). Their children are the Emperors depicted in Gladiator II starring Paul Mescal.

Elagabalus’s reign was fairly chaotic. He lost power, when his Grandmother transferred support to his cousin, Alexander, and Elagabalus and his mother were assassinated.

Here, is a fascinating article in the Guardian about the Pax Romana. ‘Their heads were nailed to trees.’

Pax & Tagging

Posh boys in England, playing tagging games, used to shout ‘Pax’ to claim immunity or to call a temporary halt in the contest. I remember my childhood friends using the word ‘vainites’ as well as pax. But we were not by any means posh. There are many other ‘truce’ terms used in tagging games. They are listed in this fascinating. Wikipedia page. From which I discover that Vainites comes from the medieval period and means: ‘to make excuses, hang back or back out of battle’.

First Published in January 2024, and revised, expanded and retitled in January 2025

Posted on

Sementivae Dies—the Days of Sowing January 24–26

“Victoria and Albert Museum” by Nick Garrod, licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0. First V&A Director, Sir Henry Cole, to the left of the picture. Greek Deities in the roundells

Sementivae, was a festival dedicated to seed and to Ceres. Ceres is an Earth Goddess who gives her name to our word cereal. The festival was also called. Paganalia. The Mediterranean world had many names for the Earth Goddess. Tellus, Demeter, Cybele, Gaia, Rhea etc..

Ceres can be seen on the top left roundel resting on the Globe on the marvellous Ceramic Staircase at the V&A (photo above). And in my slightly out of focus photograph below. (To be honest, in real life, it looks a little more like my photo than the gorgeous photo above!)

Ceres represented Agriculture, Mercury Commerce, and Vulcan Industry. Old Photo by the Author. T
Ceres represented Agriculture, Mercury Commerce, and Vulcan Industry. Old Photo by the Author.

Sementivae Dies – a moveable feast.

To create life, we need earth and water to nurture and seeds for fertility. And so into the cold dead world of January the Romans created a festival of sowing. It had two parts, one presided over by Mother Earth (Tellus) and the other by Ceres, the Goddess of Corn. The actual day of the festival was chosen not by rote on a set day of the calendar but by the priests, in accordance with the weather. This seems very sensible, as there is no point sowing seeds in terrible weather conditions. I’m assuming the Priests took professional advice!

On the 24th-26th January Tellus prepared the soil, and in early February seeds were sown under the aegis of Ceres. Tellus Mater (also Terra Mater) was known as Gaia to the Greeks.

Gaia

Gaia was selected by James Lovelock & Lynn Margulis in the 1970s as the face of their Gaia hypothesis. To me, the importance of the idea is not the scientific principle that environments co-evolve with the organisms within them. But, rather in Gaia as a personification of our world as a complex living ecosystem. One that we have to care for. Gaia exists as a series of feedback loops. Lovelock hypotheses that she will spit us out unless we can live in balance with our alma mater.

Ovid and Sementivae

This is what the Roman Poet Ovid has to say in his poetic Almanac known as ‘Fasti’ (www.poetryintranslation.com)

Book I: January 24

I have searched the calendar three or four times,
But nowhere found the Day of Sowing:
Seeing this, the Muse said: That day is set by the priests,
Why are you looking for moveable days in the calendar?
Though the day of the feast ís uncertain, its time is known,
When the seed has been sown and the land ís productive.
You bullocks, crowned with garlands, stand at the full
trough,
Your labour will return with the warmth of spring.
Let the farmer hang the toil-worn plough on its post:
The wintry earth dreaded its every wound.

Steward, let the soil rest when the sowing is done,
And let the men who worked the soil rest too.
Let the village keep festival: farmers, purify the village,
And offer the yearly cakes on the village hearths.
Propitiate Earth and Ceres, the mothers of the crops,
With their own corn, and a pregnant sow ís entrails.
Ceres and Earth fulfil a common function:
One supplies the chance to bear, the other the soil.
Partners in toil, you who improved on ancient days
Replacing acorns with more useful foods,
Satisfy the eager farmers with full harvest,
So they reap a worthy prize from their efforts.
Grant the tender seeds perpetual fruitfulness,
Don’t let new shoots be scorched by cold snows.
When we sow, let the sky be clear with calm breezes,
Sprinkle the buried seed with heavenly rain.
Forbid the birds, that prey on cultivated land,
To ruin the cornfields in destructive crowds.
You too, spare the sown seed, you ants,
So you’ll win a greater prize from the harvest.

For more on Ovid look at my post on Ovid and Juno here. Or you can search for Ovid in the Search box.

First Published in January 2023, republished in January 2024, 2025


Posted on

Lambing January 18th

Hermes the ram-bearer near Roman 1st BCE copy of 5th Greek statue
Hermes the ram-bearer, Roman 1st BCE copy of 5th Greek statue

Lambing

If a lamb be born sick and weak, the Shepherd shall fold it in his cloak, blow into the mouth of it and then, drawing the Dam’s dog, shall squirt milk into the mouth of it. If an Ewe grow unnatural, and will not take her Lamb after she has yeaned it, you shall take a little of the Clean of the Ewe (which is the bed in which the Lamb lay) and force the Ewe to eat it, or at least chew it in her mouth and she will fall to love a Lamb naturally. But if an Ewe have cast her Lamb, and you would have her take to another Ewe’s Lamb, you shall take the Lamb which is dead, and with it rub and daub the live Lamb all over, and so put it to the Ewe, and she will take to it as naturally as if it were her own.

Gervase Markham, ‘Cheap and Good Husbandry’ 1613 (quoted in the Perpetual Almanac by Charles Kightly).

All about Lambing

Lambing can begin in the second part of Janauary in the south-west of the UK. But it gets progressively later as you travel north. Itinerant shearers, now often from New Zealand, travel the country shearing sheep. They will begin in the south and then progress north.

March and April are peak lambing time in the UK. But the season runs from February to April. Some farmers even lamb before Christmas (and it is not unknown to lamb in November). If ewes are tupped in October, they will lamb in March. www.nationalsheep.org.uk

The country expression is ‘in with a bang and out with the fool’ which suggests an ideal time to tup, is November 5th, on Fireworks Night. So that the lambs will be born, 5 months later, around the 1st of April.

A litter is normally one or two but occasionally more. Ewe’s get fed depending on how many lambs they will be having.

Thomas Hardy & the Reddle Man

In the ‘Return of the Native’, Thomas Hardy has a character called Diggory Venn, he is a reddle man. He travels the country in a little pony and trap selling reddle. This is a red ochre dye with which shepherds mark their flock. Part of the plot is about the reluctance of women to marry a man whose red, reddle-stained face, makes him look like a devil.

The reddle is used to mark sheep, particularly before lambing. The ram is given a collar or girdle with a marker full of reddle in it. When he mounts the ewe, she will have a red mark on her back. When she has been tupped twice, she will have two red marks on her back. She will then be taken out of the field, to encourage the ram to impregnate the others. Reddle and other dyes can be used to mark lambs chosen for slaughter, or dipping, or weighing etc

(Tup is a country verb: I tup. You tup. We are tupping etc., and means what happens when the ram ‘covers’ the ewe)..

For more on Thomas Hardy see my posts:

Hardy’s Henge
The End of Hardy;s Tree

And about the Mayor of Casterbridge:
Wife selling
Failed Weather Forecasting
And the most popular of all my posts: The Skimmity Ride

On This Day!

1779 – Peter Mark Roget, physician, scholar, thesaurus creator was born, brought into this world, popped out, brought forth, sprogged, engendered, begat

2025 – Wassail Day at the Village Orchard Dulwich

London Wildlife Trust Wassail Day Website landing page
London Wildlife Trust Wassail Day Website landing page

Run by the London Wild Life Trust. The web site says:

Celebrate Wassail Day with us on Saturday 18th January.

London Wildlife Trust welcomes the local community to awaken the apple trees to ensure a good harvest of fruit in autumn in a traditional Wassailing event.

Activities on the day will include apple inspired crafts, bird feeders, warming bread on the fire (weather permitting), pinning toast to trees (this apparently helps with a good harvest!) and more! 

First, published Jan 2023, republished Jan 2024, 2025