XVIII. THE SUCCESSION TO THE KINGDOM IN ANCIENT LATIUM…

XVIII. THE SUCCESSION TO THE KINGDOM IN ANCIENT LATIUM

[Sidenote: The Vestal fire and the great priesthoods appear to have been institutions common to the whole Latin race.] Thus it appears that a variety of considerations combined to uphold, if not to originate, the custom of maintaining a perpetual fire. The sanctity of the wood which fed it, the belief in the generative virtue of the process by which it was kindled, the supposed efficacy of fire in repelling the powers of evil, the association of the hearth with the spirits of the dead and with the majesty or even the life of the king all worked together to invest the simple old custom with a halo of mystery and romance. If this was so at Rome we may assume that matters were not very different in the other Latin towns which kept up a Vestal fire. These too had their kings of the Sacred Rites, their flamens, and their pontiffs, as well as their Vestal Virgins.[866] All the great priesthoods of Rome appear, in fact, to have had their doubles in the other ancient cities of Latium; all were probably primitive institutions common to the whole Latin race.[867]

[Sidenote: Priestly or divine functions of the Roman kings, including the maintenance of the Vestal fire.] Accordingly, whatever is true or probable of the Roman priesthoods, about which we know most, may reasonably be regarded as true or probable of the corresponding priesthoods elsewhere in Latium, about which for the most part we know nothing more than the names. Now in regard to the Roman king, whose priestly functions were inherited by his successor the king of the Sacred Rites, the foregoing discussion has led us to the following conclusions. He represented and indeed personated Jupiter, the great god of the oak, the sky, and the thunder, and in that character made rain, thunder, and lightning for the good of his subjects, like many more kings of the weather in other parts of the world. Further, he not only mimicked the oak-god by wearing an oak wreath and other insignia of divinity, but he was married to an oak-nymph Egeria, who appears to have been merely a local form of Diana in her character of a goddess of woods, of waters, and of childbirth. Moreover, he was descended from the oak, since he was born of a virgin who conceived by contact with a fire of sacred oak-wood. Hence he had to guard the ancestral fire and keep it constantly burning, inasmuch as on its maintenance depended the continuance of the royal family. Only on certain stated occasions was it lawful and even necessary to extinguish the old fire in order to revive it in a purer and more vigorous form by the friction of the sacred wood. This was done once a year on the first of March,[868] and we may conjecture that it was also done by the new king on his accession to power; for, as we have seen, it has been customary in [Sidenote: But the fire was formally extinguished and rekindled on certain occasions, perhaps on the death of the king.] various places to extinguish the king’s fire at his death.[869] Among the ancient Persians the perpetual sacred fire was put out on the death of a king and remained unlit until after his funeral.[870] It is a common practice to extinguish the fire in any house where a death has taken place,[871] apparently from a fear that the ghost may scorch or singe himself at it, like a moth at the flame of a candle; and the custom of putting out the king’s fire at his decease may in its origin have been nothing more than this. But when the fire on the king’s hearth came to be viewed as bound up in a mysterious fashion with his life, it would naturally be extinguished at his death, not to spare his fluttering ghost the risk and pain of falling into it, but because, as a sort of life-token or external soul, it too must die at his death and be born again from the holy tree. At all events, it seems probable that whenever and from whatever cause it became necessary to rekindle the royal and sacred fire by the friction of wood, the operation was performed jointly by the king and the Vestals, one or more of whom may have been his daughters or the daughters of his predecessor. Regarded as impersonations of Mother Vesta herself, these priestesses would be the chosen vessels, not only to bring to birth the seed of fire in working the fire-drill, but also to receive the seed of the fire-god in their chaste wombs, and so to become the mothers of fire-begotten kings.

[Sidenote: What is true of the Roman kings is probably true of the Latin kings in general.] All these conclusions, which we have reached mainly by a consideration of the Roman evidence, may with great probability be applied to the other Latin communities. They too probably had of old their divine or priestly kings, who transmitted their religious functions, without their civil powers, to their successors the kings of the Sacred Rites.

[Sidenote: What was the rule of succession to the Latin kingship?] But we have still to ask, What was the rule of succession to the kingdom among the old Latin tribes? We possess two lists of Latin kings both professedly complete. One is the list of the kings of Alba, the other is the list of the [Sidenote: The list of the Alban kings seems to imply that the kingship was hereditary in the male line.] kings of Rome. If we accept as authentic the list of the Alban kings, we can only conclude that the kingdom was hereditary in the male line, the son regularly succeeding his father on the throne.[872] But this list, if it is not, as Niebuhr held, a late and clumsy fabrication, has somewhat the appearance of an elastic cord which ancient historians stretched in order to link Aeneas to Romulus.[873] Yet it would be rash to set these names wholly aside as a chronological stop-gap deliberately foisted in by later annalists. In early monarchies, before the invention of writing, tradition is remarkably retentive of the names of kings. The Baganda of Central Africa, for example, remember the names of more than thirty of their kings in an unbroken chain of twenty-two generations.[874] Even the occurrence of foreign names among the Alban kings is not of itself sufficient to condemn the list as a forgery; for, as I shall shew presently, this feature is explicable by a rule of descent which appears to have prevailed in many ancient monarchies, including that of Rome. Perhaps the most we can say for the history of the Alban kings is that their names may well be genuine, and that some general features of the monarchy, together with a few events which happened to strike the popular imagination, may have survived in the memory of the people till they found their way into written history. But no dependence can be placed either on the alleged years of their reigns, or on the hereditary principle which is assumed to have connected each king with his predecessor.

When we come to the list of the Roman kings we are on much firmer, though still slippery ground. According to tradition there were in all eight kings of Rome,[875] and with regard to the five last of them, at all events, we can hardly doubt that they actually sat on the throne, and that the traditional history of their reigns is, in its main outlines, correct.[876] Now it is very remarkable that though the first king of Rome, Romulus, is said to have been descended from the royal house of Alba, in which the kingship is represented as hereditary in the male line, not one of the [Sidenote: On the other hand none of the Roman kings was immediately succeeded by his son, but three were succeeded by their sons-in-law, who were foreigners.] Roman kings was immediately succeeded by his son on the throne. Yet several left sons or grandsons behind them.[877] On the other hand, one of them was descended from a former king through his mother, not through his father,[878] and three of the kings, namely Tatius, the elder Tarquin, and Servius Tullius, were succeeded by their sons-in-law,[879] who were all either foreigners or of foreign descent.[880] This [Sidenote: This suggests that the kingship was transmitted in the female line and was held by foreigners who married the royal princesses.] suggests that the right to the kingship was transmitted in the female line, and was actually exercised by foreigners who married the royal princesses. To put it in technical language, the succession to the kingship at Rome and probably in Latium generally would seem to have been determined by certain rules which have moulded early society in many parts of the world, namely exogamy, beena marriage, and female kinship or mother-kin. Exogamy is the rule which obliges a man to marry a woman of a different clan from his own; beena marriage is the rule that he must leave the home of his birth and live with his wife’s people;[881] and female kinship or mother-kin is the system of tracing relationship and transmitting the family name through women instead of through men.[882] If these principles regulated descent of the kingship among the ancient Latins, the state of things in this respect would be somewhat as follows. The political and religious centre of each community would be the perpetual fire on the king’s hearth tended by Vestal Virgins of the royal clan. The king would be a man of another clan, perhaps of another town or even of another race, who had married a daughter of his predecessor and received the kingdom with her. The children whom he had by her would inherit their mother’s name, not his; the daughters would remain at home; the sons, when they grew up, would go away into the world, marry, and settle in their wives’ country, whether as kings or commoners. Of the daughters who stayed at home, some or all would be dedicated as Vestal Virgins for a longer or shorter time to the service of the fire on the hearth, and one of them would in time become the consort of her father’s successor.

[Sidenote: This hypothesis explains some obscure features in the traditional history of the Latin kings, such as the stories of their miraculous birth.] This hypothesis has the advantage of explaining in a simple and natural way some obscure features in the traditional history of the Latin kingship. Thus the legends which tell how Latin kings were born of virgin mothers and divine fathers become at least more intelligible. For, stripped of their fabulous element, tales of this sort mean no more than that a woman has been gotten with child by a man unknown; and this uncertainty as to fatherhood is more easily compatible with a system of kinship which ignores paternity than with one which makes it all-important. If at the birth of the Latin kings their fathers were really unknown,[883] the fact points either to a general looseness of life in the royal family or to a special relaxation [Sidenote: The Latin kings perhaps begotten at a Saturnalia.] of moral rules on certain occasions, when men and women reverted for a season to the licence of an earlier age. Such Saturnalias are not uncommon at some stages of social evolution. In our own country traces of them long survived in the practices of May Day and Whitsuntide, if not of Christmas. Children born of the more or less promiscuous intercourse which characterises festivals of this kind would naturally be fathered on the god to whom the particular festival was dedicated.

[Sidenote: The Roman festival of Midsummer was a kind of Saturnalia, and was specially associated with the fire-born King Servius Tullius.] In this connexion it may not be without significance that a festival of jollity and drunkenness was celebrated by the plebeians and slaves at Rome on Midsummer Day, and that the festival was specially associated with the fire-born King Servius Tullius, being held in honour of Fortuna, the goddess who loved Servius as Egeria loved Numa. The popular merrymakings at this season included foot-races and boat-races; the Tiber was gay with flower-wreathed boats, in which young folk sat quaffing wine.[884] The festival appears to have been a sort of Midsummer Saturnalia answering to the real Saturnalia which fell at Midwinter. In modern Europe, as we shall learn later on, the great Midsummer festival has been above all a festival of lovers and of fire; one of its principal features is the pairing of sweethearts, who leap over the bonfires hand in hand or throw flowers across the flames to each other. And many omens of love and marriage are drawn from the flowers which bloom at this mystic season.[885] It is the time of the roses and of love. Yet the innocence and beauty of such festivals in modern times ought not to blind us to the likelihood that in earlier days they were marked by coarser features, which were probably of the essence of the rites. Indeed, among the rude Esthonian peasantry these features seem to have lingered down to our own generation, if not to the present day. One other feature in the Roman celebration of Midsummer deserves to be specially noticed. The custom of rowing in flower-decked boats on the river on this day proves that it was to some extent a water festival; and, as we shall learn later on, water has always, down to modern times, played a conspicuous part in the rites of Midsummer Day, which explains why the Church, in throwing its cloak over the old heathen festival, chose to dedicate it to St. John the Baptist.[886]

[Sidenote: But the uncertainty as to the paternity of the Roman kings may only mean that in later times the names of their fathers were forgotten.] The hypothesis that the Latin kings may have been begotten at an annual festival of love is necessarily a mere conjecture, though the traditional birth of Numa on the festival of the Parilia, when shepherds leaped across the spring bonfires,[887] as lovers leap across the Midsummer fires, may perhaps be thought to lend it a faint colour of probability. But it is quite possible that the uncertainty as to their fathers may not have arisen till long after the death of the kings, when their figures began to melt away into the cloudland of fable, assuming fantastic shapes and gorgeous colouring as they passed from earth to heaven. If they were alien immigrants, strangers and pilgrims in the land they ruled over, it would be natural enough that the people should forget their lineage, and forgetting it should provide them with another, which made up in lustre what it lacked in truth. The final apotheosis, which represented the kings as not merely sprung from gods but as themselves deities incarnate, would be much facilitated if in their lifetime, as we have seen reason to think, they had actually laid claim to divinity.

[Sidenote: Where descent is traced through women only, girls of the highest rank may be married to men of humble birth, even to aliens and slaves.] If among the Latins the women of royal blood always stayed at home and received as their consorts men of another stock, and often of another country, who reigned as kings in virtue of their marriage with a native princess, we can understand not only why foreigners wore the crown at Rome, but also why foreign names occur in the list of the Alban kings. In a state of society where nobility is reckoned only through women—in other words, where descent through the mother is everything, and descent through the father is nothing—no objection will be felt to uniting girls of the highest rank to men of humble birth, even to aliens or slaves, provided that in themselves the men appear to be suitable mates. What really matters is that the royal stock, on which the prosperity and even the existence of the people is supposed to depend, should be perpetuated in a vigorous and efficient form, and for this purpose it is necessary that the women of the royal family should bear children to men who are physically and mentally fit, according to the standard of early society, to discharge the important duty of procreation. Thus the personal qualities of the kings at this stage of social evolution are deemed of vital importance. If they, like their consorts, are of royal and divine descent, so much the better; but it is not essential that they should be so.

[Sidenote: In Ashantee, where the kingdom descends through women, the rank of the king’s father is not regarded.] The hypothesis which we have been led to frame of the rule of succession to the Latin kingship will be confirmed by analogy if we can shew that elsewhere, under a system of female kinship, the paternity of the kings is a matter of indifference—nay, that men who are born slaves may, like Servius Tullius, marry royal princesses and be raised to the throne. Now this is true of the Tshi-speaking peoples of the Gold Coast in West Africa. Thus in Ashantee, where the kingdom descends in the female line to the king’s brothers and afterwards to the sons of his sister in preference to his own sons, the sisters of the reigning monarch are free to marry or intrigue with whom they please, provided only that their husband or lover be a very strong and handsome man, in order that the kings whom he begets may be men of finer presence than their subjects. It matters not how low may be the rank and position of the king’s father. If the king’s sisters, however, have no sons, the throne will pass to the king’s own son, and failing a son, to the chief vassal or the chief slave. But in the Fantee country the principal slave succeeds to the exclusion of the son. So little regard is paid by these people to the lineage, especially the paternal lineage, of their kings.[888] Yet Ashantee has attained a barbaric civilisation as high perhaps as that of any negro state, and probably not at all inferior to that of the petty Latin kingdoms at the dawn of history.

[Sidenote: Traces of a similar state of things in Uganda.] A trace of a similar state of things appears to survive in Uganda, another great African monarchy. For there the queen dowager and the queen sister are, or were, allowed to have as many husbands as they choose, without going through any marriage ceremony. “Of these two women it is commonly said all Uganda is their husband; they appear to be fond of change, only living with a man for a few days and then inviting some one else to take his place.” We are reminded of the legends of the lustful queen Semiramis, and the likeness may be more than superficial. Yet these women are not allowed, under pain of death, to bear children; hence they practise abortion.[889] Both the licence and the prohibition may be explained if we suppose that formerly the kingdom descended, as it still does in Ashantee, first to the king’s brothers and next to the sons of his sisters. For in that case the next heirs to the throne would be the sons of the king’s mother and of his sisters, and these women might accordingly be allowed, as the king’s sisters still are allowed in Ashantee, to mate with any handsome men who took their fancy, in order that their offspring might be of regal part. But when the line of descent was changed from the female to the male line, in other words, when the kings were succeeded by their sons instead of by their brothers or their sisters’ sons, then the king’s mother and his sisters would be forbidden to bear children lest the descent of the crown to the king’s own children should be endangered by the existence of rivals who, according to the old law of the kingdom, had a better right to the throne. We may surmise that the practice of putting the king’s brothers to death at the beginning of his reign, which survived till Uganda passed under English protection,[890] was instituted at the same time as the prohibition of child-bearing laid on the king’s mother and sisters. The one custom got rid of existing rivals; the other prevented them from being born. That the kingship in Uganda was formerly transmitted in the female line is strongly indicated by the rule that the kings and the rest of the royal family take their totems from their mothers, whereas all the other people of the country get their totems from their fathers.[891]

[Sidenote: In Loango also, where the blood royal is traced in the female line, the princesses are free to cohabit with whom they please, and their consorts are practically their slaves.] In Loango the blood royal is traced in the female line, and here also the princesses are free to choose and divorce their husbands at pleasure, and to cohabit at the same time with other men. These husbands are nearly always plebeians, for princes and princesses, who are very numerous and form a ruling caste in the country, may not marry each other. The lot of a prince consort is not a happy one, for he is rather the slave and prisoner than the mate of his imperious princess. In marrying her he engages never more to look at a woman during the whole time he cohabits with his royal spouse. When he goes out he is preceded by guards who drive away all females from the road where he is to pass. If in spite of these precautions he should by ill-luck cast his eyes on a woman, the princess may have his head chopped off, and commonly exercises, or used to exercise, the right. This sort of libertinism, sustained by power, often carries the princesses to the greatest excesses, and nothing is so much dreaded as their anger. No wonder that commoners in general avoid the honour of a royal alliance. Only poor and embarrassed men seek it as a protection against their creditors and enemies. All the children of such a man by such a wife are princes and princesses, and any one of the princes may in time be chosen king; for in Loango the crown is not hereditary but elective.[892] Thus it would seem that the father of the King of Loango is nearly always a plebeian, and often little better than a slave.

[Sidenote: Similar rights enjoyed by queens in Central Africa.] Near the Chambezi river, which falls into Lake Bengweolo in Central Africa, there is a small state governed by a queen who belongs to the reigning family of Ubemba. She bears the title of Mamfumer or Mother of Kings. “The privileges attached to this dignity are numerous. The most singular is that the queens may choose for themselves their husband among the common people. The chosen man becomes prince-consort without sharing in the administration of affairs. He is bound to leave everything to follow his royal and often but little accommodating spouse. To shew that in these households the rights are inverted and that a man may be changed into a woman, the queen takes the title of Monsieur and her husband that of Madame.”[893]

[Sidenote: Traces of female descent of the kingship in ancient Greece.] At Athens, as at Rome, we find traces of succession to the throne by marriage with a royal princess; for two of the most ancient kings of Athens, namely Cecrops and Amphictyon, are said to have married the daughters of their predecessors.[894] This tradition is confirmed by the evidence, which I shall adduce presently, that at Athens male kinship was preceded by female kinship.

[Sidenote: With this rule of descent of the kingship males rule over different kingdoms in successive generations.] Further, if I am right in supposing that in ancient Latium the royal families kept their daughters at home and sent forth their sons to marry princesses and reign among their wives’ people, it will follow that the male descendants would reign in successive generations over different kingdoms. Now this seems to have happened both in ancient Greece and in ancient Sweden; from which we may legitimately infer that it was a custom practised by more than one branch of the Aryan stock in Europe. Take, for instance, the great house of Aeacus, the grandfather of Achilles and Ajax. Aeacus himself reigned in Aegina, but his descendants, as has been justly observed, “from the beginning went forth to other lands.”[895] His son Telamon migrated to the [Sidenote: Migrations of the male descendants of Aeacus.] island of Salamis, married the king’s daughter, and reigned over the country.[896] Telamon’s son Teucer, in his turn, migrated to Cyprus, wedded the king’s daughter, and succeeded his father-in-law on the throne.[897] Again, Peleus, another son of Aeacus, quitted his native land and went away to Phthia in Thessaly, where he received the hand of the king’s daughter, and with her a third of the kingdom.[898] Of Achilles, the son of Peleus, we are told that in his youth he was sent to the court of Lycomedes, King of Scyros, where he got one of the princesses with child.[899] The tradition seems to shew that Achilles followed the custom of his family in seeking his fortune in a foreign land. His son Neoptolemus, after him, went away to Epirus, where he settled and became the ancestor of the kings of the country.[900]

[Sidenote: Migrations of the male descendants of Tydeus and Pelops.] Again, Tydeus was a son of Oeneus, the King of Calydon in Aetolia, but he went to Argos and married the king’s daughter.[901] His son Diomede migrated to Daunia in Italy, where he helped the king in a war with his enemies, receiving as his reward the king’s daughter in marriage and part of the kingdom.[902] As another example we may take the family of the Pelopidae, whose tragic fortunes the Greek poets never wearied of celebrating. Their ancestor was Tantalus, King of Sipylus in Asia Minor. But his son Pelops passed into Greece, won Hippodamia, the daughter of the King of Pisa, in the famous chariot-race, and succeeded his father-in-law on the throne.[903] His son Atreus did not remain in Pisa, but migrated to Mycenae, of which he became king;[904] and in the next generation Menelaus, son of Atreus, went to Sparta, where he married Helen, the king’s daughter, and himself reigned over the country.[905] Further, it is very notable that, according to the old lyric poets, Agamemnon himself, the elder brother of Menelaus, reigned not at Mycenae but in Lacedaemon, the native land of his wife Clytaemnestra, and that he was buried at Amyclae, the ancient capital of the country.[906]

[Sidenote: These migrations not understood in later times.] Various reasons are assigned by ancient Greek writers for these migrations of the princes. A common one is that the king’s son had been banished for murder. This would explain very well why he fled his own land, but it is no reason at all why he should become king of another. We may suspect that such reasons are afterthoughts devised by writers who, accustomed to the rule that a son should succeed to his father’s property and kingdom, were hard put to it to account for so many traditions of kings’ sons who quitted the land of their birth to reign over a foreign kingdom.

[Sidenote: Traces of similar migrations in Scandinavian tradition.] In Scandinavian tradition we meet with traces of similar customs. For we read of daughters’ husbands who received a share of the kingdoms of their royal fathers-in-law, even when these fathers-in-law had sons of their own; in particular, during the five generations which preceded Harold the Fair-haired, male members of the Ynglingar family, which is said to have come from Sweden, are reported in the Heimskringla or Sagas of the Norwegian Kings to have obtained at least six provinces in Norway by marriage with the daughters of the local kings.[907]

[Sidenote: A reminiscence of the transmission of the kingship through women is preserved in popular tales.] Thus it would seem that among some Aryan peoples, at a certain stage of their social evolution, it has been customary to regard women and not men as the channels in which royal blood flows, and to bestow the kingdom in each successive generation on a man of another family, and often of another country, who marries one of the princesses and reigns over his wife’s people. A common type of popular tale, which relates how an adventurer, coming to a strange land, wins the hand of the king’s daughter and with her the half or the whole of the kingdom, may well be a reminiscence of a real custom.[908]

[Sidenote: Where such customs prevail, the kingship is an appanage of marriage with a princess.] Where usages and ideas of this sort prevail, it is obvious that the kingship is merely an appanage of marriage with a woman of the blood royal. The old Danish historian Saxo Grammaticus puts this view of the kingship very clearly in the mouth of Hermutrude, a legendary queen of Scotland, and her statement is all the more significant because, as we shall see presently, it reflects the actual practice of the Pictish kings. “Indeed she was a queen,” says Hermutrude, “and but that her sex gainsaid it, might be deemed a king; nay (and this is yet truer), whomsoever she thought worthy of her bed was at once a king, and she yielded her kingdom with herself. Thus her sceptre and her hand went together.”[909] Wherever a custom of this sort is observed, a man may clearly acquire the kingdom just as well by marrying the widow as the daughter of his predecessor. This is what Aegisthus did at Mycenae, and what Hamlet’s uncle Feng and Hamlet’s successor Wiglet did in Denmark; all three slew their predecessors, married their widows, and then sat peacefully on the throne.[910] The tame submission of the people to their rule would be intelligible, if they regarded the assassins, in spite of their crime, as the lawful occupants of the throne by reason of their marriage with the widowed queens. Similarly, Gyges murdered Candaules, King of Lydia, [Sidenote: The Lydian kingship apparently transmitted through women.] married his queen, and reigned over the country.[911] Nor was this the only instance of such a succession in the history of Lydia. The wife of King Cadys conspired against his life with her paramour Spermus, and though her husband recovered from the dose of poison which she administered to him, he died soon afterwards, and the adulterer married his leman and succeeded to the throne.[912] These cases excite a suspicion that in the royal house of Lydia descent was traced in the female line, and the suspicion is strengthened by the legendary character of Omphale, the ancestress of the dynasty. For she is represented as a masculine but dissolute queen of the Semiramis type, who wore male attire and put all her favoured lovers to death, while on the other hand her consort Hercules was her purchased slave, was treated with indignity, and went about dressed as a woman.[913] This plainly implies that the queen was a far more powerful and important personage than the king, as would naturally happen wherever it is the queen who confers royalty on her consort at marriage instead of receiving it from him. The story that she prostituted the daughters of the Lydians to their male slaves[914] is of a piece with the tradition that she herself married her slave Hercules. It may mean little more than that the Lydians were indifferent to paternity, and that the children of freewomen by slaves ranked as free. Such an indifference to fatherhood, coupled with the ancient accounts of the loose morals of the Lydian girls, who were accustomed to earn a dowry by prostitution,[915] is a mark of the system of female kinship. Hence we may conjecture that Herodotus was wrong in saying that from Hercules to Candaules the crown of Lydia had descended for twenty-two generations from father to son.[916] The old mode of transmitting the crown of Lydia through women probably did not end with Candaules. At least we are told that his murderer and successor Gyges, like Hercules, the mythical founder of the dynasty, gave himself and his kingdom into the hands of the woman he loved, and that when she died he collected all the slaves from the country round about and raised in her memory a mound so lofty that it could be seen from every part of the Lydian plain, and for centuries after was known as the Harlot’s Tomb.[917]

[Sidenote: Marriage of Canute with the widow of his predecessor.] When Canute the Dane had been acknowledged King of England, he married Emma, the widow of his predecessor Ethelred, whose throne he had overturned and whose children he had driven into exile. The marriage has not unnaturally puzzled the historians, for Emma was much older than her second husband, she was then living in Normandy, and it is very doubtful whether Canute had ever seen her before she became his bride. All, however, becomes plain if, as the cases of Feng and Wiglet seem to shew, it was an old Danish custom that marriage with a king’s widow carried the kingdom with it as a matter of right. In that case the young but prudent Canute married the mature widow merely out of policy in order to clinch, according to Danish notions, by a legal measure his claim to that crown which he had already won for himself by the sword.[918] Among the Saxons and their near kinsmen the Varini it appears to have been a regular custom for the new king to marry his stepmother. Thus Hermegisclus, King of the Varini, on his deathbed enjoined his son Radigis to wed his stepmother in accordance with their ancestral practice, and his injunction was obeyed.[919] Edbald, King of Kent, married his stepmother after the death of his father Ethelbert;[920] and as late as the ninth century Ethelbald, King of the West Saxons, wedded Judith, the widow of his father Ethelwulf.[921] Such marriages are intelligible if we suppose that old Saxon as well as old Danish law gave the kingdom to him who married the late king’s widow.

[Sidenote: Traces of the system of female kinship among the Aryans.] To the view that the right to the Latin kingship was derived from women and not from men, it may be objected that the system of female kinship or mother-kin is unknown among the Aryans,[922] and that even if faint traces of it may be met with elsewhere, the last place in the world where we should look for it would be Rome, the stronghold of the patriarchal family. To meet this objection it is necessary to point to some facts which appear to be undoubted survivals among Aryan peoples of a custom of tracing descent through the mother only.

[Sidenote: Female kinship among the Athenians, the Epizephyrian Locrians, the Cantabrians, and the Germans.] In Attica tradition ran that of old the women were the common property of the men, who coupled with them like beasts, so that while every one knew his mother, nobody knew who his father was. This system of sexual communism was abolished by Cecrops, the first King of Athens, who introduced individual marriage in its place.[923] Little weight could be attached to this tradition, if it were not supported to a certain extent by the Attic usage which always allowed a man to marry his half-sister by the same father but not his half-sister by the same mother.[924] Such a rule seems clearly to be a relic of a time when kinship was counted only through women. Again, the Epizephyrian Locrians in Italy traced all ancestral distinction in the female, not the male line. Among them the nobles were the members of the hundred houses from whom were chosen by lot the maidens to be sent to Troy.[925] For in order, it is said, to expiate the sacrilege committed by the Locrian Ajax when he violated Cassandra in the sanctuary of Athena at Troy, the cities of Locris used annually to send to the Trojan goddess two maidens, whom the Trojans slew, and, burning their bodies on the wood of certain trees which bore no fruit, threw the ashes into the sea. If the maidens contrived to escape they took refuge in the sanctuary of Athena, which they thenceforth swept and washed, never quitting it except at night, and always going barefoot, shorn, and clad in a single garment. The custom is said to have been observed for a thousand years down to the fourth century before our era.[926] Among the Locrians, as elsewhere, the system of female kinship would seem to have gone hand in hand with dissolute morals; for there is reason to think that of old the Locrians, like the Lydians and Armenians, had been wont to prostitute their daughters before marriage, though in later times the custom fell into abeyance.[927] The Cantabrians of Spain seem also to have had mother-kin; for among them it was the daughters who inherited property and who portioned out their brothers in marriage.[928] Again, the ancient Germans deemed the tie between a man and his sister’s children as close as that between a father and his children; indeed some regarded the bond as even closer and more sacred, and therefore in exacting hostages they chose the children of a man’s sister rather than his own children, believing that this gave them a firmer hold on the family.[929] The superiority thus assigned to the maternal uncle over the father is an infallible mark of mother-kin, either present or past, as may be observed, for instance, in very many African tribes to this day, among whom both property and political power pass, not from father to son, but from the maternal uncle to his nephews.[930] Similarly, in Melanesia the close relation of the mother’s brother to his nephew is maintained even where the system of relationship has become patriarchal.[931] Amongst the Germans in the time of Tacitus, it is true, a man’s heirs were his own children,[932] but the mother’s brother could never have attained the position he held except under a system of maternal descent. Another vestige of mother-kin among a Teutonic people appears to be found in the Salic law. For it was a custom with the Salian Franks that when a widow married again, a price had to be paid to her family, and in laying down the order in which her kinsmen were entitled to receive this payment the law gave a decided preference to the female over the male line; thus the first person entitled to claim the money was the eldest son of the widow’s sister.[933]

[Sidenote: Among the Picts the kingship was transmitted through women.] It is a moot point whether the Picts of Scotland belonged to the Aryan family or not;[934] but among them the kingdom was certainly transmitted through women. Bede tells us that down to his own time, in the early part of the eighth century, whenever a doubt arose as to the succession, the Picts chose their king from the female rather than the male line.[935] The statement is amply confirmed by historical evidence. For we possess a list of the Pictish kings and their fathers which was drawn up in the reign of Cenaed, King of the Scots, towards the end of the tenth century; and for the period from the year 583 to the year 840 the register is authenticated by the Irish Annals of Tigernach and Ulster. Now, it is significant that in this list the fathers of the kings are never themselves kings; in other words, no king was succeeded on the throne by his son. Further, if we may judge by their names, the fathers of the Pictish kings were not Picts but foreigners—men of Irish, Cymric, or English race. The inference from these facts seems to be that among the Picts the royal family was exogamous, and that the crown descended in the female line; in other words, that the princesses married men of another clan or even of another race, and that their issue by these strangers sat on the throne, whether they succeeded in a prescribed order according to birth, or whether they were elected from among the sons of princesses, as the words of Bede might be taken to imply.[936]

[Sidenote: Female kinship among the Etruscans.] Another European, though apparently not Aryan, people among whom the system of female kinship appears to have prevailed were the Etruscans. For in Etruscan sepulchral inscriptions the name of the mother of the deceased is regularly recorded along with or even without the name of the father; and where the names of both father and mother are mentioned, greater prominence is given to the mother’s name by writing it in full, whereas the father’s name is, in accordance with Roman usage, merely indicated by an initial.[937] The statement of Theopompus that among the Etruscans sexual communism was a recognised practice, and that paternity was unknown,[938] may be only an exaggerated way of saying that they traced their descent through their mothers and not through their fathers. Yet apparently in Etruria, as elsewhere, this system of relationship was combined with a real indifference to fatherhood and with the dissolute morals which that indifference implies; for Etruscan girls were wont to earn a dowry by prostitution.[939] In these customs the Etruscans resembled the Lydians, and the similarity confirms the common opinion of antiquity, which modern historians have too lightly set aside, that the Etruscans were of Lydian origin.[940] However that may be, in considering the vestiges of mother-kin among the Latins, we shall do well to bear in mind that the same archaic mode of tracing descent appears to have prevailed among the neighbouring Etruscans, who not only exercised a powerful influence on Rome, but gave her two, if not three, of her kings.[941]

[Sidenote: Mother-kin may survive in the royal family after it has been exchanged for father-kin in all others.] It would be neither unnatural nor surprising if among the ancient Latins mother-kin survived in the royal family after it had been exchanged for father-kin in all others. For royalty, like religion, is essentially conservative; it clings to old forms and old customs which have long vanished from ordinary life. Thus in Uganda persons of royal blood still inherit their totems from their mothers, while other people inherit them from their fathers. So in Denmark and Scandinavia, as we have seen, the kingdom would appear to have been transmitted through women long after the family name and property had become hereditary in the male line among the people. Sometimes the difference in custom between kings and commoners is probably based rather on a distinction of race than on varying degrees of social progress; for a dynasty is often a family of alien origin who have imposed their rule on their subjects by force of arms, as the Normans did on the Saxons, and the Manchus on the Chinese. More rarely, perhaps, it may have happened that from motives of policy or superstition a [Sidenote: Sometimes a conquering race may have left a nominal kingship to members of the old royal house.] conquering tribe has left a nominal kingship to the members of the old royal house. Such a concession would be most likely to be made where the functions of the king were rather religious than civil, and where the prosperity of the country was supposed to depend on the maintenance of the established relations between the people and the gods of the land. In that case the new-comers, knowing not how to appease and conciliate these strange deities, might be glad to let the priestly kings of the conquered race perform the quaint rites and mumble the venerable spells, which had been found to answer their purpose time out of mind.[942] In a commonwealth like the Roman, formed by the union of different stocks, the royal family might thus belong either to the conquerors or to the conquered; in other words, either to the [Sidenote: This perhaps happened at Rome, where many of the kings seem to have been plebeians.] patricians or to the plebeians. But if we leave out of account Romulus and Tatius, who are more or less legendary figures, and the two Tarquins, who came of a noble Etruscan house, all the other Roman kings appear from their names to have been men of plebeian, not patrician, families.[943] Hence it seems probable that they belonged to the indigenous race, who may have retained mother-kin, at least in the royal succession, after they had submitted to invaders who knew father-kin only.

[Sidenote: The abolition of the monarchy at Rome may have been a revolution whereby the patricians wrested the shadow of sovereignty from the plebeians and transferred it to themselves, who already wielded the substance.] If that was so, it confirms the view that the old Roman kingship was essentially a religious office; for the conquerors would be much more ready to leave an office of this sort in the hands of the conquered than a kingship of the type with which we are familiar. “Let these puppets,” they might think, “render to the gods their dues, while we rule the people in peace and lead them in war.” Of such priestly kings Numa was the type. But not all of his successors were willing to model themselves on his saintly figure and, rejecting the pomps and vanities of earth, to devote themselves to communion with heaven. Some were men of strong will and warlike temper, who could not brook the dull routine of the cloister. They longed to exchange the stillness and gloom of the temple or the sacred grove for the sunshine, the dust, and the tumult of the battlefield. Such men broke bounds, and when they threatened to get completely out of hand and turn the tables on the patricians, it was time that they should go. This, we may conjecture, was the real meaning of the abolition of the kingship at Rome. It put an end to the solemn pretence that the state was still ruled by the ancient owners of the soil: it took the shadow of power from them and gave it to those who had long possessed the substance. The ghost of the monarchy had begun to walk and grow troublesome: the revolution laid it for centuries.

[Sidenote: At first the intention seems to have been to leave the annual kingship or consulship to the old royal family.] But though the effect of the revolution was to substitute the real rule of the patricians for the nominal rule of the plebeians, the break with the past was at the outset less complete than it seems. For the first two consuls were both men of the royal blood. One of them, L. Junius Brutus, was sister’s son of the expelled King Tarquin the Proud.[944] As such he would have been the heir to the throne under a strict system of mother-kin. The other consul, L. Tarquinius Collatinus, was a son of the late king’s cousin Egerius.[945] These facts suggest that the first intention of the revolutionaries was neither to abolish the kingship nor to wrest it from the royal family, but, merely retaining the hereditary monarchy, to restrict its powers. To achieve this object they limited the tenure of office to a year and doubled the number of the kings, who might thus be expected to check and balance each other. But it is not impossible that both restrictions were merely the revival of old rules which the growing power of the kings had contrived for a time to set aside in practice. The legends of Romulus and Remus, and afterwards of Romulus and Tatius, may be real reminiscences of a double kingship like that of Sparta;[946] and in the yearly ceremony of the Regifugium or Flight of the King we seem to detect a trace of an annual, not a life-long, tenure of office.[947] The same thing may perhaps be true of the parallel change which took place at Athens when the people deprived the Medontids of their regal powers and reduced them from kings to responsible magistrates, who held office at first for life, but afterwards only for periods of ten years.[948] Here, too, the limitation of the tenure of the kingship may have been merely the reinforcement of an old custom which had fallen into abeyance. At Rome, however, the attempt to maintain the hereditary principle, if it was made at all, was almost immediately abandoned, and the patricians openly transferred to themselves the double kingship, which thenceforth was purely elective, and was afterwards known as the consulship.[949]

[Sidenote: The abolition of the monarchy at Rome seems to have been hastened by an attempt of the last king to shift the succession from the female to the male line.] The history of the last king of Rome, Tarquin the Proud, leads us to suspect that the offence which he gave by his ambitious and domineering character was heightened by an attempt to shift the succession of the kingship from the female to the male line. He himself united both rights in his own person; for he had married the daughter of his predecessor, Servius Tullius, and he was the son or grandson of Tarquin the Elder,[950] who preceded Servius Tullius on the throne. But in asserting his right to the crown, if we can trust Roman history on this point, Tarquin the Proud entirely ignored his claim to it through women as the son-in-law of his predecessor, and insisted only on his claim in the male line as the son or grandson of a former king.[951] And he evidently intended to bequeath the kingdom to one of his sons; for he put out of the way two of the men who, if the succession had been through women in the way I have indicated, would have been entitled to sit on the throne before his own sons, and even before himself. One of these was his sister’s husband, the other was her elder son. Her younger son, the famous Lucius Junius Brutus, only escaped the fate of his father and elder brother by feigning, like Hamlet, imbecility, and thus deluding his wicked uncle into the belief that he had nothing to fear from such a simpleton.[952] This design of Tarquin to alter the line of succession from the female to the male side of the house may have been the last drop which filled his cup of high-handed tyranny to overflowing. At least it is a strange coincidence, if it is nothing more, that he was deposed by the man who, under a system of female kinship, was the rightful heir, and who in a sense actually sat on the throne from which he pushed his uncle. For the curule chair of the consul was little less than the king’s throne under a limited tenure.

[Sidenote: The hereditary principle does not necessarily exclude the elective in the succession to a monarchy; many African chieftainships or kingships are both hereditary and elective.] It has often been asked whether the Roman monarchy was hereditary or elective. The question implies an opposition between the two modes of succession which by no means necessarily exists. As a matter of fact, in many African tribes at the present day the succession to the kingdom or the chieftainship is determined by a combination of the hereditary and the elective principle, that is, the kings or chiefs are chosen by the people or by a body of electors from among the members of the royal family. And as the chiefs have commonly several wives and many children by them, the number of possible candidates may be not inconsiderable. For example, we are told that “the government of the Banyai is rather peculiar, being a sort of feudal republicanism. The chief is elected, and they choose the son of the deceased chief’s sister in preference to his own offspring. When dissatisfied with one candidate, they even go to a distant tribe for a successor, who is usually of the family of the late chief, a brother, or a sister’s son, but never his own son or daughter. When first spoken to on the subject, he answers as if he thought himself unequal to the task and unworthy of the honour, but, having accepted it, all the wives, goods, and children of his predecessor belong to him, and he takes care to keep them in a dependent position.” Among these people “the children of the chief have fewer privileges than common free men. They may not be sold, but, rather than choose any one of them for a chief at any future time, the free men would prefer to elect one of themselves who bore only a very distant relationship to the family.”[953]

[Sidenote: Chiefs and kings in Africa elected from several families in rotation.] Sometimes the field of choice is extended still further by a rule that the chief may or must be chosen from one of several families in a certain order. Thus among the Bangalas of the Cassange Valley in Angola the chief is elected from three families in rotation.[954] And Diagara, a country bordering on Senegambia, is ruled by an absolute monarch who is chosen alternately from two families, one of which lives in Diapina and the other in Badumar.[955] In the Winamwanga tribe, to the south of Lake Tanganyika, “the first male child born to a chief after he succeeds to the chieftainship is the natural heir, but many years ago there were two claimants to the throne, whose supporters were about equal, and to avoid a civil war the following arrangement was made. One of them was allowed to reign, but the other claimant or his son was to succeed him. This was carried out, so that now there are continually alternate dynasties.”[956] So in the Matse tribe of Togoland in West Africa, there are two royal families descended from two women, which supply a king alternately. Hence the palm forest which belongs to the crown is divided into two parts; the reigning king has the right to one part, and the representative of the other royal house has a right to the other part.[957] Among the Yorubas in western Africa the sovereign chief is always taken from one or more families which have the hereditary right of furnishing the community with rulers. In many cases the succession passes regularly from one to a second family alternately; but in one instance, apparently unique, the right of succession to the sovereignty seems to be possessed by four princely families, from each of which the head chief is elected in rotation. The principle of primogeniture is not necessarily followed in the election, but the choice of the electors must always fall on one who is related to a former chief in the male line. For paternal descent alone is recognised in Yorubaland, where even the greatest chief may take to wife a woman of the lowest rank. Sometimes the choice of the ruling chief is made by divine authority, intimated to the people through the high priest of the principal god of the district.[958] Among the Igaras, on the lower Niger, the royal family is divided into four branches, each of which provides a king in turn. The capital and its district, both of which bear the name of Idah, are always occupied by the reigning branch of the royal family, while the three other branches, not being allowed to live there, retreat into the interior. Hence at the death of a king a double change takes place. On the one hand the late reigning family, with all their dependants, have to leave the homes in which many of them have been born and brought up, and to migrate to towns in the forest, which they know only by name. On the other hand, the new reigning family come into the capital, and their people settle in the houses occupied by their forefathers four reigns ago. The king is generally elected by the leading men of his branch of the royal family; they choose the richest and most powerful of their number.[959]

[Sidenote: Among the Khasis of Assam, also, the succession to the kingdom is partly hereditary and partly elective.] Again, among the Khasis of Assam we meet with the same combination of the hereditary with the elective principle in the succession to the kingdom. Indeed, in this people the kingship presents several features of resemblance to the old Latin kingship as it appears to have existed at the dawn of history. For a Khasi king is the religious as well as the secular head of the state; along with the sooth-sayers he consults the auspices for the public good, and sometimes he has priestly duties to perform. Succession to the kingship always runs in the female line, for the Khasis have a regular system of mother-kin as opposed to father-kin; hence it is not the king’s sons, but his uterine brothers and the sons of his uterine sisters who succeed him on the throne in order of birth. But this hereditary principle is controlled by a body of electors, who have the right of rejecting unsuitable claimants to the throne. Generally the electors are a small body composed of the heads of certain priestly clans; but in some Khasi states the number of the electors has been greatly increased by the inclusion of representative headmen of certain important lay clans, or even by the inclusion of village headmen or of the chief superintendents of the village markets. Nay, in the Langrim state all the adult males regularly vote at the election of a monarch; and here the royal family is divided into two branches, a Black and a White, from either of which, apparently, the electors are free to choose a king. Similarly, in the Nobosohpoh state there are two royal houses, a Black and a White, and the people may select the heir to the throne from either of them.[960]

[Sidenote: Thus the Roman monarchy may have combined the hereditary with the elective principle.] Thus the mere circumstance that all the Roman kings, with the exception of the two Tarquins, appear to have belonged to different families, is not of itself conclusive against the view that heredity was one of the elements which determined the succession. The number of families from whom the king might be elected may have been large. And even if, as is possible, the electors were free to chose a king without any regard to his birth, the hereditary principle would still be maintained if, as we have seen reason to conjecture, it was essential that the chosen candidate should marry a woman of the royal house, who would generally be either the daughter or the widow of his predecessor. In this way the apparently disparate principles of unfettered election and strict heredity would be combined; the marriage of the elected king with the hereditary princess would furnish the link between the two. Under such a system, to put it otherwise, the kings are elective and the queens hereditary. This is just the converse of what happens under a system of male kinship, where the kings are hereditary and the queens elective.

In the later times of Rome it was held that the custom had been for the people to elect the kings and for the senate to ratify the election.[961] But we may suspect, with Mommsen, that this was no more than an inference from the mode of electing the consuls. The magistrates who, under the republic, represented the kings most closely were the dictator and the King of the Sacred Rites, and neither of these was elected by the people. Both were nominated, the dictator by the consul, and the King of the Sacred Rites by the chief pontiff.[962] Accordingly it seems probable that under [Sidenote: The king was probably nominated either by his predecessor or by an interim king.] the monarchy the king was nominated either by his predecessor or, failing that, by an interim king (interrex) chosen from the senate.[963] Now if, as we have been led to think, an essential claim to the throne was constituted by marriage with a princess of the royal house, nothing could be more natural than that the king should choose his successor, who would commonly be also his son-in-law. If he had several sons-in-law and had omitted to designate the one who was to reign after him, the election would be made by his substitute, the interim king.

[Sidenote: Personal qualities which commended a man for marriage with a princess and succession to the throne.] The personal qualities which recommended a man for a royal alliance and succession to the throne would naturally vary according to the popular ideas of the time and the character of the king or his substitute, but it is reasonable to suppose that among them in early society physical strength and beauty would hold a prominent place.[964] We have seen that in Ashantee the husbands or paramours of the princesses must always be men of fine presence, because they are to be the fathers of future kings. Among the Ethiopians in antiquity, as among the Ashantees and many other African tribes to this day, the crown passed in the female line to the son of the king’s sister, but if there was no such heir they chose the handsomest and most valiant man to reign over them.[965] We are told that the Gordioi [Sidenote: Fat kings.] elected the fattest man to the kingship,[966] nor is this incredible when we remember that in Africa corpulence is still regarded as a great distinction and beauty, and that both the chiefs and their wives are sometimes so fat that they can hardly walk. Thus among the Caffres chiefs and rich men attain to an enormous bulk, and the queens fatten themselves on beef and porridge, of which they partake freely in the intervals of slumber. To be fat is with them a mark of riches, and therefore of high rank; common folk cannot afford to eat and drink and lounge as much as they would like to do.[967] The Syrakoi in antiquity are reported to have bestowed the crown on the tallest man or on the man with [Sidenote: Long-headed kings and chiefs.] the longest head in the literal, not the figurative, sense of the word.[968] They seem to have been a Sarmatian people to the north of the Caucasus,[969] and are probably the same with the long-headed people described by Hippocrates, who says that among them the men with the longest heads were esteemed the noblest, and that they applied bandages and other instruments to the heads of their children in infancy for the sake of moulding them into the shape which they admired.[970] Such reports are probably by no means fabulous, for among the Monbuttu or Mang-bettou of Central Africa down to this day “when the children of chiefs are young, string is wound round their heads, which are gradually compressed into a shape that will allow of the longest head-dress. The skull thus treated in childhood takes the appearance of an elongated egg.”[971] Similarly [Sidenote: Heads artificially moulded as a mark of high rank.] some of the Indian tribes on the north-west coast of America artificially mould the heads of their children into the shape of a wedge or a sugar-loaf by compressing them between boards; some of them regard such heads as a personal beauty, others as a mark of high birth.[972] For instance, “the practice among some of the Salish seems to have had a definite social, as well as aesthetic, significance. There appear to have been recognised degrees of contortion marking the social status of the individual. For example slaves, of which the Salish kept considerable numbers, were prohibited from deforming the heads of their children at all, consequently a normal, undeformed head was the sign and badge of servitude. And in the case of the base-born of the tribes the heads of their children were customarily but slightly deformed, while the heads of the children born of wealthy or noble persons, and particularly those of chiefs, were severely and excessively deformed.”[973]

[Sidenote: Among the Bororos the best singers are the chiefs.] Among the Bororos of Brazil at the present day the title to chieftaincy is neither corpulence nor an egg-shaped head, but the possession of a fine musical ear and a rich baritone, bass, or tenor voice. The best singer, in fact, becomes the chief. There is no other way to supreme power but this. Hence in the education of the Bororo youth the main thing is to train, not their minds, but their voices, for the best of the tuneful quire will certainly be chief. In this tribe, accordingly, there is no such thing as hereditary chieftainship; for if the son of a chief has an indifferent ear or a poor voice, he will be a commoner to the end of his days. When two rival songsters are found in the same village, they sing against each other, and he who is judged to have acquitted himself best in the musical contest mounts the throne. His defeated rival sometimes retires in a huff with his admirers and founds a new village. Once seated in the place of power, the melodious singer is not only highly honoured and respected, but can exact unconditional obedience from all, and he gives his orders, like an operatic king or hero, in a musical recitativo. It is especially at eventide, when the sun has set and the labours of the day are over, that he pours out his soul in harmony. At that witching hour he takes up his post in front of the men’s club-house, and while his subjects are hushed in attention he bursts into sacred song, passing from that to lighter themes, and concluding the oratorio by chanting his commands to each individual for the next day.[974] When Addison ridiculed the new fashion of the Italian opera, in which generals sang the word of command, ladies delivered their messages in music, and lovers chanted their billet-doux, he little suspected that among the backwoods of Brazil a tribe of savages in all seriousness observed a custom which he thought absurd even on the stage.[975]

[Sidenote: Succession to the throne determined by a race.] Sometimes apparently the right to the hand of the princess and to the throne has been determined by a race. The Alitemnian Libyans awarded the kingdom to the fleetest runner.[976] Amongst the old Prussians, candidates for nobility raced on horseback to the king, and the one who reached him first was ennobled.[977] According to tradition the earliest games at Olympia were held by Endymion, who set his sons to run a race for the kingdom. His tomb was said to be at the point of the racecourse from which the runners started.[978] The famous story of Pelops and Hippodamia [Sidenote: Greek traditions of princesses whose hands were won in a race.] is perhaps only another version of the legend that the first races at Olympia were run for no less a prize than a kingdom. For Oenomaus was king of Pisa, a town close to Olympia; and having been warned by an oracle that he would die by the hand of the man who married his daughter Hippodamia, he resolved to keep her a maid. So when any one came a-wooing her, the king made the suitor drive away in a chariot with Hippodamia, while he himself pursued the pair in another car drawn by fleet horses, and, overtaking the unlucky wight, slew him. In this way he killed twelve suitors and nailed their heads to his house, the ruins of which were shewn at Olympia down to the second century of our era. The bodies of the suitors were buried under a lofty mound, and it is said that in former days sacrifices were offered to them yearly. When Pelops came to win the hand of Hippodamia, he bribed the charioteer of Oenomaus not to put the pins into the wheels of the king’s chariot. So Oenomaus was thrown from the car and dragged by his horses to death. But some say he was despatched by Pelops according to the oracle. Anyhow, he died, and Pelops married Hippodamia and succeeded to the kingdom.[979] The grave of Oenomaus was shown at Olympia; it was a mound of earth enclosed with stones.[980] Here, too, precincts were dedicated to Pelops and Hippodamia, in which sacrifices were offered to them annually; the victim presented to Pelops was a black ram, whose blood was poured into a pit.[981] Other traditions were current in antiquity of princesses who were offered in marriage to the fleetest runner and won by the victor in the race. Thus Icarius at Sparta set the wooers of his daughter Penelope to run a race; Ulysses won and wedded her. His father-in-law is said to have tried to induce him to take up his abode in Sparta; which seems to shew that if Ulysses had accepted the invitation he would have inherited the kingdom through his wife.[982] So, too, the Libyan King Antaeus placed his beautiful daughter Barce or Alceis at the end of the racecourse; her many noble suitors, both Libyans and foreigners, ran to her as the goal, and Alcidamus, who touched her first, gained her in marriage.[983] Danaus, also, at Argos is said to have stationed his many daughters at the goal, and the runner who reached them first had first choice of the maidens.[984] Somewhat different from these traditions is the story of Atalante, for in it the wooers are said to have contended, not with each other, but with the coy maiden herself in a foot-race. She slew her vanquished suitors and hung up their heads in the racecourse, till Hippomenes gained the race and her hand by throwing down the golden apples which she stooped to pick up.[985]

[Sidenote: Custom of racing for a bride among the Kirghiz and Calmucks.] These traditions may very well reflect a real custom of racing for a bride, for such a custom appears to have prevailed among various peoples, though in practice it has degenerated into a mere form or pretence. Thus “there is one race, called the ‘Love Chase,’ which may be considered a part of the form of marriage among the Kirghiz. In this the bride, armed with a formidable whip, mounts a fleet horse, and is pursued by all the young men who make any pretensions to her hand. She will be given as a prize to the one who catches her, but she has the right, besides urging on her horse to the utmost, to use her whip, often with no mean force, to keep off those lovers who are unwelcome to her, and she will probably favour the one whom she has already chosen in her heart. As, however, by Kirghiz custom, a suitor to the hand of a maiden is obliged to give a certain kalym, or purchase-money, and an agreement must be made with the father for the amount of dowry which he gives his daughter, the ‘Love Chase’ is a mere matter of form.”[986] Similarly “the ceremony of marriage among the Calmucks is performed on horseback. A girl is first mounted, who rides off in full speed. Her lover pursues; and if he overtakes her, she becomes his wife, and the marriage is consummated on the spot, after which she returns with him to his tent. But it sometimes happens that the woman does not wish to marry the person by whom she is pursued, in which case she will not suffer him to overtake her; and we were assured that no instance occurs of a Calmuck girl being thus caught unless she has a partiality for her pursuer. If she dislikes him she rides, to use the language of English sportsmen, ‘neck or nothing,’ until she has completely escaped, or until the pursuer’s horse is tired out, leaving her at liberty to return, to be afterwards chased by some more favoured admirer.”[987] The race for the bride is found also among the Koryaks of north-eastern Asia. It takes place in a large tent, round which many separate compartments called pologs are arranged in a continuous circle. The girl gets a start and is clear of the marriage if she can run through all the compartments without being caught by the bridegroom. The women of the encampment place every obstacle in the man’s way, tripping him up, belabouring him with switches, and so forth, so that he has little chance of succeeding unless the girl wishes it and waits for him.[988] Among some of the rude indigenous tribes of the Malay Peninsula “marriage is preceded by a singular ceremony. An old man presents the future couple to the assembled guests, and, followed by their families, he leads them to a great circle, round which the girl sets off to run as fast as she can. If the young man succeeds in overtaking her, she becomes his mate; otherwise he loses all rights, which happens especially when he is not so fortunate as to please his bride.”[989] Another writer tells us that among these savages, when there is a river at hand, the race takes place on the water, the bride paddling away in one canoe and pursued by the bridegroom in another.[990] Before the wedding procession starts for the [Sidenote: Caffre race for bride.] bridegroom’s hut, a Caffre bride is allowed to make one last bid for freedom, and a young man is told off to catch her. Should he fail to do so, she is theoretically allowed to return to her father, and the whole performance has to be repeated; but the flight of the bride is usually a pretence.[991]

[Sidenote: The bride-race among Teutonic peoples, and its traces in modern Europe.] Similar customs appear to have been practised by all the Teutonic peoples; for the German, Anglo-Saxon, and Norse languages possess in common a word for marriage which means simply bride-race.[992] Moreover, traces of the custom survived into modern times. Thus in the Mark of Brandenburg, down to the first half of the nineteenth century at least, it was the practice for bride and bridegroom to run a race on their wedding day in presence of all the guests. Two sturdy men took the bride between them and set off. The bridegroom gave them a start and then followed hot-foot. At the end of the course stood two or three young married women, who took from the bride her maiden’s crown and replaced it by the matron’s cap. If the bridegroom failed to overtake his bride, he was much ridiculed.[993] In other parts of Germany races are still held at marriage, but the competitors are no longer the bride and bridegroom. Thus in Hesse at the wedding of a well-to-do farmer his friends race on horseback to the house of the bride, and her friends similarly race on horseback to the house of the bridegroom. The prize hangs over the gate of the farmyard or the door of the house. It consists of a silken or woollen handkerchief, which the winner winds round his head or fastens to his breast. The victors have also the right to escort the marriage procession.[994] In Upper Bavaria, down at least to some fifty years ago, a regular feature of a rustic wedding used to be what was called the “bride-race” or the “key-race.” It generally took place when the bridal party was proceeding from the church to the alehouse. A course was marked out and two goals, consisting of heaps of straw, were set up at distances of three and four hundred yards respectively. The strongest and fleetest of the young fellows raced barefoot, clad only in shirt and trousers. He who first reached the further goal received the first prize; this was regularly a key of gilt wood, which the winner fastened to his hat. Often, as in some of the Greek legends, the bride herself was the goal of the race. The writers who record the custom suggest that the race was originally for the key of the bridechamber, and that the bridegroom ran with the rest.[995] In Scotland also the guests at a rustic wedding used to ride on horseback for a prize, which sometimes consisted of the bride’s cake set up on a pole in front of the bridegroom’s house. The race was known as the broose.[996] At Weitensfeld, in Carinthia, a festival called the Bride-race is still held every year. It is popularly supposed to commemorate a time when a plague had swept away the whole people except a girl and three young men. These three, it is said, raced with each other in order that the winner might get the maiden to wife, and so repeople the land. The race is now held on horseback. The winner receives as the prize a garland of flowers called the Bride-wreath, and the man who comes in last gets a wreath of ribbons and pig’s bristles.[997] It seems not impossible that this custom is a relic of a fair at which the marriageable maidens of the year were assigned in order of merit to the young men who distinguished themselves by their feats of strength and agility. A practice of this sort appears to have prevailed [Sidenote: Assignment of brides to picked young men among the Samnites.] among the ancient Samnites. Every year the youths and maidens were tested publicly, and the young man who was adjudged best had first choice of the girls; the second best had the next choice, and so on with the rest.[998] “They say,” writes Strabo, “that the Samnites have a beautiful custom which incites to virtue. For they may not give their daughters in marriage to whom they please, but every year the ten best maidens and the ten best youths are picked out, and the best of the ten maidens is given to the best of the ten youths, and the second to the second, and so on. But if the man who wins one of these prizes should afterwards turn out a knave, they disgrace him and take the girl from him.”[999] The nature of the test to which the young men and women were subjected is not mentioned, but we may conjecture that it was mainly athletic.

[Sidenote: Contests for a bride other than races.] The contests for a bride may be designed to try the skill, strength, and courage of the suitors as well as their horsemanship and speed of foot. Speaking of King’s County, Ireland, in the latter part of the eighteenth century, Arthur Young says: “There is a very ancient custom here, for a number of country neighbours among the poor people, to fix upon some young woman that ought, as they think, to be married; they also agree upon a young fellow as a proper husband for her; this determined, they send to the fair one’s cabin to inform her that on the Sunday following ‘she is to be horsed,’ that is, carried on men’s backs. She must then provide whisky and cyder for a treat, as all will pay her a visit after mass for a hurling match. As soon as she is horsed, the hurling begins, in which the young fellow appointed for her husband has the eyes of all the company fixed on him: if he comes off conqueror, he is certainly married to the girl; but if another is victorious, he as certainly loses her, for she is the prize of the victor. These trials are not always finished in one Sunday, they take sometimes two or three, and the common expression when they are over is, that ‘such a girl was goal’d.’ Sometimes one barony hurls against another, but a marriageable girl is always the prize. Hurling is a sort of cricket, but instead of throwing the ball in order to knock down a wicket, the aim is to pass it through a bent stick, the ends stuck in the ground.”[1000] In the great Indian epic the Mahabharata it is [Sidenote: The Indian Svayamvara.] related that the hand of the lovely Princess Draupadi or Krishna, daughter of the King of the Panchalas, was only to be won by him who could bend a certain mighty bow and shoot five arrows through a revolving wheel so as to hit the target beyond. After many noble wooers had essayed the task in vain, the disguised Arjun was successful, and carried off the princess to be the wife of himself and his four brothers.[1001] This was an instance of the ancient Indian practice of Svayamvara, in accordance with which a maiden of high rank either chose her husband from among her assembled suitors or was offered as the prize to the conqueror in a trial of skill. The custom was occasionally observed among the Rajputs down to a late time.[1002] The Tartar king Caidu, the cousin and opponent of Cublay Khan, is said to have had a beautiful daughter named Aijaruc, or “the Bright Moon,” who was so tall and brawny that she outdid all men in her father’s realm in feats of strength. She vowed she would never marry till she found a man who could vanquish her in wrestling. Many noble suitors came and tried a fall with her, but she threw them all; and from every one whom she had overcome she exacted a hundred horses. In this way she collected an immense stud.[1003] In the Nibelungenlied the fair Brunhild, Queen of Iceland, was only to be won in marriage by him who could beat her in three trials of strength, and the unsuccessful wooers forfeited their heads. Many had thus perished, but at last Gunther, King of the Burgundians, vanquished and married her.[1004] It is said that Sithon, King of the Odomanti in Thrace, had a lovely daughter, Pallene, and that many [Sidenote: Hippoclides at Sicyon, and how he danced away his marriage.] men came a-wooing her not only from Thrace but from Illyria and the country of the Don. But her father said that he who would wed his daughter must first fight himself and pay with his life the penalty of defeat. Thus he slew many young men. But when he was grown old and his strength had failed, he set two of the wooers, by name Dryas and Clitus, to fight each other for the kingdom and the hand of the princess. The combat was to take place in chariots, but the princess, being in love with Clitus, bribed his rival’s charioteer to put no pins in the wheels of his chariot; so Dryas came to the ground, and Clitus slew him and married the king’s daughter.[1005] The tale agrees closely with that of Pelops and Hippodamia. Both stories probably contain, in a legendary form, reminiscences of a real custom. Within historical times Clisthenes, tyrant of Sicyon, made public proclamation at the Olympian games that he would give his daughter Agariste in marriage to that suitor who, during a year’s trial, should prove himself the best. So many young men who prided themselves on their persons and on their lineage assembled at Sicyon from all parts of the Greek world. The tyrant had a racecourse and a wrestling school made on purpose for them, and there he put them through their paces. Of all the suitors none pleased him so much as Hippoclides, the handsomest and richest man of Athens, a scion of the old princely house of Cypselus. And when the year was up and the day had come on which the award was to be made, the tyrant sacrificed a hundred oxen and entertained the suitors and all the people of Sicyon at a splendid banquet. Dinner being over, the wine went round and the suitors fell to wrangling as to their accomplishments and their wit. In this feast of reason the gay Hippoclides outshone himself and them all until, flushed with triumph and liquor, he jumped on a table, danced to music, and then, as a finishing touch, stood on his head and sawed the air with his legs. This was too much. The tyrant in disgust told him he had danced away his marriage.[1006]

[Sidenote: The annual flight of the king (regifugium) at Rome may have been a relic of his contest for the kingdom and for the hand of the princess.] Thus it appears that the right to marry a girl, and especially a princess, has often been conferred as a prize in an athletic contest. There would be no reason, therefore, for surprise if the Roman kings, before bestowing their daughters in marriage, should have resorted to this ancient mode of testing the personal qualities of their future sons-in-law and successors. If my theory is correct, the Roman king and queen personated Jupiter and his divine consort, and in the character of these divinities went through the annual ceremony of a sacred marriage for the purpose of causing the crops to grow and men and cattle to be fruitful and multiply. Thus they did what in more northern lands we may suppose the King and Queen of May were believed to do in days of old. Now we have seen that the right to play the part of the King of May and to wed the Queen of May has sometimes been determined by an athletic contest, particularly by a race.[1007] This may have been a relic of an old marriage custom of the sort we have examined, a custom designed to test the fitness of a candidate for matrimony. Such a test might reasonably be applied with peculiar rigour to the king in order to ensure that no personal defect should incapacitate him for the performance of those sacred rites and ceremonies on which, even more than on the despatch of his civil and military duties, the safety and prosperity of the community were believed to depend. And it would be natural to require of him that from time to time he should submit himself afresh to the same ordeal for the sake of publicly demonstrating that he was still equal to the discharge of his high calling. A relic of that test perhaps survived in the ceremony known as the Flight of the King (regifugium), continued to be annually observed at Rome down to imperial times. On the twenty-fourth day of February a sacrifice used to be offered in the Comitium, and when it was over the King of the Sacred Rites fled from the Forum.[1008] We may conjecture that the Flight of the King was originally a race for an annual kingship, which may have been awarded as a prize to the fleetest runner. At the end of the year the king might run again for a second term of office; and so on, until he was defeated and deposed or perhaps slain. In this way what had once been a race would tend to assume the character of a flight and a pursuit. The king would be given a start; he ran and his competitors ran after him, and if he were overtaken he had to yield the crown and perhaps his life to the lightest of foot among them. In time a man of masterful character might succeed in seating himself permanently on the throne and reducing the annual race or flight to the empty form which it seems always to have been within historical times.[1009] The rite was sometimes interpreted as a commemoration of the expulsion of the kings from Rome; but this appears to have been a mere afterthought devised to explain a ceremony of which the old meaning was forgotten. It is far more likely that in acting thus the King of the Sacred Rites was merely keeping up an ancient custom which in the regal period had been annually observed by his predecessors the kings. What the original intention of the rite may have been must probably always remain more or less a matter of conjecture. The present explanation is suggested with a full sense of the difficulty and obscurity in which the subject is involved.

[Sidenote: The theory is confirmed by the evidence that at the Saturnalia a man used to personate the god Saturn and to be put to death in that character.] Thus, if my theory is correct, the yearly flight of the Roman king was a relic of a time when the kingship was an annual office awarded, along with the hand of a princess, to the victorious athlete or gladiator, who thereafter figured along with his bride as a god and goddess at a sacred marriage designed to ensure the fertility of the earth by homoeopathic magic. Now this theory is to a certain extent remarkably confirmed by an ancient account of the Saturnalia which was discovered and published some years ago by a learned Belgian scholar, Professor Franz Cumont of Ghent. From that account we learn that down to the beginning of the fourth century of our era, that is, down nearly to the establishment of Christianity by Constantine, the Roman soldiers stationed on the Danube were wont to celebrate the Saturnalia in a barbarous fashion which must certainly have dated from a very remote antiquity. Thirty days before the festival they chose by lot from among themselves a young and handsome man, who was dressed in royal robes to resemble the god Saturn. In that character he was allowed to indulge all his passions to the fullest extent; but when his brief reign of thirty days was over, and the festival of Saturn was come, he had to cut his own throat on the altar of the god he personated.[1010] We can hardly doubt that this tragic figure, whom a fatal lot doomed to masquerade for a short time as a deity and to die as such a violent death, was the true original of the merry monarch or King of the Saturnalia, as he was called, whom a happier lot invested with the playful dignity of Master of the Winter Revels.[1011] In all probability the grim predecessor of the frolicsome King of the Saturnalia belonged to that class of puppets who in some countries have been suffered to reign nominally for a few days each year merely for the sake of discharging a burdensome or fatal obligation which otherwise must have fallen on the real king.[1012] If that is so, we may infer that the part of the god Saturn, who was commonly spoken of as a king,[1013] was formerly played at the Saturnalia by the Roman king himself. And a trace of the Sacred Marriage may perhaps be detected in the licence accorded to the human representatives of Saturn, a licence which, if I am right, is strictly analogous to the old orgies of May Day and other similar festivals. It is to be observed that Saturn was [Sidenote: Saturn the god of seed, and the Saturnalia a festival of sowing.] the god of the seed, and the Saturnalia the festival of sowing held in December,[1014] when the autumn sowing was over and the husbandman gave himself up to a season of jollity after the long labours of summer and autumn.[1015] On the principles of homoeopathic magic nothing could be more natural than that, when the last seeds had been committed to the earth, the marriage of the powers of vegetation should be simulated by their human representatives for the purpose of sympathetically quickening the seed. In short, no time could be more suitable for the celebration of the Sacred Marriage. We have seen as a matter of fact that the sowing of the seed has often been accompanied by sexual orgies with the express intention of thereby promoting the growth of the crops. At all events the view that the King’s Flight at Rome was a mitigation of an old custom of putting him to death at the end of a year’s tenure of office, is confirmed by the practice of annually slaying a human representative of the divine king Saturn, which survived in some parts of the Roman empire, though not at Rome itself, down to Christian times.

[Sidenote: If the Latin kings were begotten at the licentious festival of the Saturnalia, we could understand why their paternity was sometimes uncertain, and why they might be of servile parentage.] This theory would throw light on some dark passages in the legends of the Roman kingship, such as the obscure and humble births of certain kings and their mysterious ends. For if the sacred marriage took place at a licentious festival like the Saturnalia, when slaves were temporarily granted the privileges of freemen,[1016] it might well be that the paternity of the children begotten at this time, including those of the royal family, was a matter of uncertainty; nay, it might be known that the king or queen had offspring by a slave. Such offspring of a royal father and a slave mother, or of a royal mother and a slave father, would rank as princes and princesses according as male or female kinship prevailed. Under a system of male kinship the union of the king with a slave woman would give birth to a Servius Tullius, and, according to one tradition, to a Romulus. If female kinship prevailed in the royal family, as we have seen reason to suppose, it is possible that the stories of the birth of Romulus and Servius from slave mothers is a later inversion of the facts, and that what really happened was that some of the old Latin kings were begotten by slave fathers on royal princesses at the festival of the Saturnalia. The disappearance of female kinship would suffice to account for the warping of the tradition. All that was distinctly remembered would be that some of the kings had had a slave for one of their parents; and people living under a system of paternal descent would naturally conclude that the slave parent of a king could only be the mother, since according to their ideas no son of a slave father could be of royal blood and sit on the throne.[1017]

[Sidenote: The violent ends of the Roman kings.] Again, if I am right in supposing that in very early times the old Latin kings personated a god and were regularly put to death in that character, we can better understand the mysterious or violent ends to which so many of them are said to have come. Too much stress should not, however, be laid on such legends, for in a turbulent state of society kings, like commoners, are apt to be knocked on the head for much sounder reasons than a claim to divinity. Still, it is worth while to note that Romulus is said to have vanished mysteriously like Aeneas, or to have been cut to pieces by the patricians whom he had offended,[1018] [Sidenote: Death of Romulus on the seventh of July, the Nonae Caprotinae, at a festival resembling the Saturnalia.] and that the seventh of July, the day on which he perished, was a festival which bore some resemblance to the Saturnalia. For on that day the female slaves were allowed to take certain remarkable liberties. They dressed up as free women in the attire of matrons and maids, and in this guise they went forth from the city, scoffed and jeered at all whom they met, and engaged among themselves in a fight, striking and throwing stones at each other. Moreover, they feasted under a wild fig-tree, made use of a rod cut from the tree for a certain purpose, perhaps to beat each other with, and offered the milky juice of the tree in sacrifice to Juno Caprotina, whose name appears to mean either the goddess of the goat (caper) or the goddess of the wild fig-tree, for [Sidenote: The Nonae Caprotinae seems to have been the festival of the fertilisation of the fig.] the Romans called a wild fig-tree a goat-fig (caprificus). Hence the day was called the Nonae Caprotinae after the animal or the tree. The festival was not peculiar to Rome, but was held by women throughout Latium.[1019] It can hardly be dissociated from a custom which was observed by ancient husbandmen at this season. They sought to fertilise the fig-trees or ripen the figs by hanging strings of fruit from a wild fig-tree among the boughs. The practice appears to be very old. It has been employed in Greece both in ancient and modern times, and Roman writers often refer to it. Palladius recommends the solstice in June, that is Midsummer Day, as the best time for the operation; Columella prefers July.[1020] In Sicily at the present day the operation is performed either on Midsummer Day (the festival of St. John the Baptist) or in the early days of July;[1021] in Morocco and North Africa generally it takes place on Midsummer Day.[1022] The wild fig-tree is a male and the cultivated fig-tree is a female, and the fertilisation is effected by insects, which are engendered in the fruit of the male tree and convey the pollen to the blossom of the female.[1023] Thus the placing of wild figs, laden with pollen and insects, among the boughs of the cultivated fig-tree is, like the artificial fertilisation of the date-palm,[1024] a real marriage of the trees, and it may well have been regarded as such by the peasants of antiquity long before the true theory of the process was discovered. Now the fig is an [Sidenote: Importance of the fig as an article of diet.] important article of diet in countries bordering on the Mediterranean. In Palestine, for example, the fruit is not, as with us, merely an agreeable luxury, but is eaten daily and forms indeed one of the staple productions of the country. “To sit every man under his vine, and under his fig tree” was the regular Jewish expression for the peaceable possession of the Holy Land; and in the fable of Jotham the fig-tree is invited by the other trees, next after the olive, to come and reign over them.[1025] When Sandanis the Lydian attempted to dissuade Croesus from marching against the Persians, he represented to him that there was nothing to be gained by conquering the inhabitants of a barren country who neither drank wine nor ate figs.[1026] An Arab commentator on the Koran observes that “God swears by these two trees, the fig and the olive, because among fruit-trees they surpass all the rest. They relate that a basket of figs was offered to the prophet Mohammed, and when he had eaten one he bade his comrades do the same, saying, ‘Truly, if I were to say that any fruit had come down from Paradise, I would say it of the fig.’”[1027] Hence it would be natural that a process supposed to be essential to the ripening of so favourite a fruit should be the occasion of a popular festival. We may suspect that the license allowed to slave women on this day formed part of an ancient Saturnalia, at which the loose behaviour of men and women was supposed to secure the fertilisation of the fig-trees by homoeopathetic magic.

[Sidenote: At the festival of the seventh of July women were probably thought to be fertilised by the fig as well as to fertilise it.] But it is possible and indeed probable that the fertilisation was believed to be mutual; in other words, it may have been imagined, that while the women caused the fig-tree to bear fruit, the tree in its turn caused them to bear children. This conjecture is confirmed by a remarkable African parallel. The Akikuyu of British East Africa attribute to the wild fig-tree [Sidenote: Supposed fertilisation of barren women by the wild fig-tree among the Akikuyu of British East Africa.] the power of fertilising barren women. For this purpose they apply the white sap or milk to various parts of the body of the would-be mother; then, having sacrificed a goat, they tie the woman to a wild fig-tree with long strips cut from the intestines of the sacrificial animal. “This seems,” writes Mr. C. W. Hobley, who reports the custom, “to be a case of the tree marriage of India. I fancy there is an idea of ceremonial marriage with the ancestral spirits which are said to inhabit certain of these fig-trees; in fact it supports the Kamba idea of the spiritual husbands.”[1028] The belief in spiritual husbands, [Sidenote: Belief of the Akamba that the spirits of the dead live in wild fig-trees.] to which Mr. Hobley here briefly refers, is as follows. The Akamba of British East Africa imagine that every married woman is at the same time the wife of a living man and also the wife of the spirit of some departed ancestor (aimu). They are firmly convinced that the fertility of a wife depends to a great extent on the attentions of her spiritual husband, and if she does not conceive within six months after marriage they take it as a sign that her spiritual husband is neglecting her; so they offer beer and kill a goat as a propitiatory sacrifice. If after that the woman still remains barren, they make a bigger feast and kill a bullock. On the other hand, if a wife is found to be with child soon after marriage, they are glad and consider it a proof that she has found favour in the eyes of her ghostly husband. Further, they believe that at death the human spirit quits the bodily frame and takes up its abode in a wild fig-tree (mumbo); hence they build miniature huts at the foot of those fig-trees which are thought to be haunted by the souls of the dead, and they periodically sacrifice to these spirits.[1029] Accordingly, we may conjecture, though we are not told, that amongst the Akamba, as among the Akikuyu, a barren woman sometimes resorts to a wild fig-tree in order to obtain a child, since she believes that her spiritual spouse has his abode in the tree. The Akikuyu clearly attribute a special power of fertilisation to the milky sap of the tree, since they apply it to various parts of the woman who desires to become a mother: perhaps they regard it as the seed of the fig. This may explain why the Roman slave-women offered the milky juice of the tree to Juno Caprotina; they may have intended thereby to add to the fecundity of the mother goddess. And we can scarcely doubt that the rods which they cut from the wild fig-tree, for the purpose apparently of beating each other, were supposed to communicate the generative virtue of the tree to the women who [Sidenote: Supposed fertilisation of women by the wild banana-tree among the Baganda.] were struck by them. The Baganda of Central Africa appear to ascribe to the wild banana-tree the same power of removing barrenness which the Akikuyu attribute to the wild fig-tree. For when a wife has no child, she and her husband will sometimes repair to a wild banana-tree and there, standing one on each side of the tree, partake of the male organs of a goat, the man eating the flesh and drinking the soup and the woman drinking the soup only. This is believed to ensure conception after the husband has gone in to his wife.[1030] Here again, as among the Akikuyu, we see that the fertilising virtue of the tree is reinforced by the fertilising virtue of the goat; and we can therefore better understand why the Romans called the male wild fig-tree “goat-fig,” and why the Messenians dubbed it simply “he-goat.”

[Sidenote: The Roman king may have celebrated a sacred marriage on the Nonae Caprotinae as a charm to make the fig-trees bear fruit.] The association of the death of Romulus with the festival of the wild fig-tree can hardly be accidental, especially as he and his twin-brother Remus were said to have been suckled by the she-wolf under a fig-tree, the famous ficus Ruminalis, which was shewn in the forum as one of the sacred objects of Rome and received offerings of milk down to late times.[1031] Indeed, some have gone so far both in ancient and modern times as to derive the names of Romulus and Rome itself from this fig-tree (ficus Ruminalis); if they are right, Romulus was “the fig-man” and Rome “the fig-town.”[1032] Be that as it may, the clue to the association of Romulus with the fig is probably furnished by the old belief that the king is responsible for the fruits of the earth and the rain from heaven. We may conjecture that on this principle the Roman king was expected to make the fig-trees blossom and bear figs, and that in order to do so he masqueraded as the god of the fig-tree and went through a form of sacred marriage, either with his queen or with a slave-woman, on the July day when the husbandmen resorted to a more efficacious means of producing the same result. The ceremony of the sacred marriage need not have been restricted to a single day in the year. It may well have been repeated for many different crops and fruits. If the Queen of Athens was annually married to the god of the vine, why should not the King of Rome have annually wedded the goddess of the fig?

[Sidenote: The marriage of the divine king or human god often followed by his death.] But, as we have seen, Romulus, the first king of Rome, is said to have perished on the day of this festival of the fig, which, if our hypothesis is correct, was also the day of his ceremonial marriage to the tree. That the real date of his death should have been preserved by tradition is very improbable; rather we may suppose that the reason for dating his death and his marriage on the same day was drawn from some ancient ritual in which the two events were actually associated. But we have still to ask, Why should the king’s wedding-day be also the day of his death? The answer must be deferred for the present. All we need say now is that elsewhere the marriage of the divine king or human god has been regularly followed at a brief interval by his violent end. For him, as for others, death often treads on the heels of love.[1033]

[Sidenote: Violent ends of Tatius, Tullus Hostilius, and other Roman kings.] Another Roman king who perished by violence was Tatius, the Sabine colleague of Romulus. It is said that he was at Lavinium offering a public sacrifice to the ancestral gods, when some men to whom he had given umbrage despatched him with the sacrificial knives and spits which they had snatched from the altar.[1034] The occasion and the manner of his death suggest that the slaughter may have been a sacrifice rather than an assassination. Again, Tullus Hostilius, the successor of Numa, was commonly said to have been killed by lightning, but many held that he was murdered at the instigation of Ancus Marcius, who reigned after him.[1035] Speaking of the more or less mythical Numa, the type of the priestly king, Plutarch observes that “his fame was enhanced by the fortunes of the later kings. For of the five who reigned after him the last was deposed and ended his life in exile, and of the remaining four not one died a natural death; for three of them were assassinated and Tullus Hostilius was consumed by thunderbolts.”[1036] This implies that King Ancus Marcius, as well as Tarquin the Elder and Servius Tullius, perished by the hand of an assassin. No other ancient historian, so far as I know, records this of Ancus Marcius, though one of them says that the king “was carried off by an untimely death.”[1037] Tarquin the Elder was slain by two murderers whom the sons of his predecessor, Ancus Marcius, had hired to do the deed.[1038] Lastly, Servius Tullius came by his end in circumstances which recall the combat for the priesthood of Diana at Nemi. He was attacked by his successor and killed by his orders, though not by his hand. Moreover, he lived among the oak groves of the Esquiline Hill at the head of the Slope of Virbius, and it was here, beside a sanctuary of Diana, that he was slain.[1039]

[Sidenote: The succession to the Latin kingshipmay sometimes have been decided by single combat.] These legends of the violent ends of the Roman kings suggest that the contest by which they gained the throne may sometimes have been a mortal combat rather than a race. If that were so, the analogy which we have traced between Rome and Nemi would be still closer. At both places the sacred kings, the living representatives of the godhead, would thus be liable to suffer deposition and death at the hand of any resolute man who could prove his divine right to the holy office by the strong arm and the sharp sword. It would not be surprising if among the early Latins the claim to the kingdom should often have been settled by single combat; for down to historical times the Umbrians regularly submitted their private disputes to the ordeal of battle, and he who cut his adversary’s throat was thought thereby to have proved the justice of his cause beyond the reach of cavil.[1040] “Any one who remembers how in the forests of Westphalia the Femgericht set the modern civil law at defiance down into the eighteenth century, and how in the mountains of Corsica and Sardinia blood-revenge has persisted and persists to our own days, will not wonder that hardly a century after the union of Italy the Roman legislation had not yet succeeded in putting down the last relics of this ancient Italian or rather Indo-European mode of doing justice in the nests of the Apennines.”[1041]

[Sidenote: Combats for the kingdom in Africa.] A parallel to what I conceive to have been the rule of the old Latin kingship is furnished by a West African custom of to-day. When the Maluango or king of Loango, who is deemed the representative of God on earth, has been elected, he has to take his stand at Nkumbi, a large tree near the entrance to his sacred ground. Here, encouraged by one of his ministers, he must fight all rivals who present themselves to dispute his right to the throne.[1042] This is one of the many instances in which the rites and legends of ancient Italy are illustrated by the practice of modern Africa. Similarly among the Banyoro of Central Africa, whose king had to take his life with his own hand whenever his health and strength began to fail, the succession to the throne was determined by a mortal combat among the claimants, who fought till only one of them was left alive.[1043] Even in England a relic of a similar custom survived till lately in the coronation ceremony, at which a champion used to throw down his glove and challenge to mortal combat all who disputed the king’s right to the crown. The ceremony was witnessed by Pepys at the coronation of Charles the Second.[1044]

[Sidenote: In Greece and Italy kings probably personated Cronus and Saturn, the god of the seed, before they personated Zeus and Jupiter, the god of the oak.] In the foregoing enquiry we have found reason to suppose that the Roman kings personated not only Jupiter the god of the oak, but Saturn the god of the seed and perhaps also the god of the fig-tree. The question naturally arises, Did they do so simultaneously or successively? In other words, did the same king regularly represent the oak-god at one season of the year, the seed-god at another, and the fig-god at a third? or were there separate dynasties of oak-kings, seed-kings, and fig-kings, who belonged perhaps to different stocks and reigned at different times? The evidence does not allow us to answer these questions definitely. But tradition certainly points to the conclusion that in Latium and perhaps in Italy generally the seed-god Saturn was an older deity than the oak-god Jupiter, just as in Greece Cronus appears to have preceded Zeus. Perhaps Saturn and Cronus were the gods of an old indigenous and agricultural people; while Jupiter and Zeus were the divinities of a ruder invading race, which swarmed down into Italy and Greece from the forests of central Europe, bringing their wild woodland deities to dwell in more fertile lands, under softer skies, side by side with the gods of the corn and the vine, the olive and the fig. If that was so, we may suppose that before the irruption of these northern barbarians the old kings of Greece and Italy personated the gods of the fat field and fruitful orchard, and that it was not till after the conquest that their successors learned to pose as the god of the verdant oak and the thundering sky. However, on questions so obscure we must be content to suspend our judgment. It is unlikely that the student’s search-light will ever pierce the mists that hang over these remote ages. All that we can do is to follow the lines of evidence backward as far as they can be traced, till, after growing fainter and fainter, they are lost altogether in the darkness.

Footnote 866:

J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 237, 321; C. Julian, in Daremberg et Saglio, Dictionnaire des antiquités grecques et romaines, ii. 1173. As to Vesta and the Vestals, see above, vol. i. pp. 13 sq.

Footnote 867:

C. Julian, l.c.

Footnote 868:

See above, p. 186 note 1.

Footnote 869:

Above, pp. 261-263.

Footnote 870:

Diodorus Siculus, xvii. 114.

Footnote 871:

Thus in some African tribes the household fire is put out after a death, and afterwards relit by the friction of sticks (Sir H. H. Johnston, British Central Africa, p. 439; L. Concradt, “Die Ngumbu in Südkamerun,” Globus, lxxxi, (1902) p. 352). In Laos the fire on the hearth is extinguished after a death and the ashes are scattered; afterwards a new fire is obtained from a neighbour (Tournier, Notice sur le Laos français, p. 68). A custom of the same sort is observed in Burma, but there the new fire must be bought (C. J. F. S. Forbes, British Burma, p. 94). Among the Miris of Assam the new fire is made by the widow or widower (W. H. Furness, in Journal of the Anthrop. Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 462). In Armenia it is made by flint and steel (M. Abeghian, Der armenische Volksglaube, p. 71). In Argos fire was extinguished after a death, and fresh fire obtained from a neighbour (Plutarch, Quaest. Graec. 24). In the Highlands of Scotland all fires were put out in a house where there was a corpse (Pennant’s “Tour in Scotland,” in Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels, iii. 49). Amongst the Bogos of East Africa no fire may be lit in a house after a death until the body has been carried out (W. Munzinger, Sitten und Recht der Bogos, p. 67). In the Pelew Islands, when a death has taken place, fire is transferred from the house to a shed erected beside it (J. S. Kubary, “Die Todtenbestattung auf den Pelau-Inseln,” Original-Mittheilungen aus der Ethnologischen Abtheilung der Königlichen Museen zu Berlin, i. 7). In the Marquesas Islands fires were extinguished after a death (Vincendon-Dumoulin et Desgraz, Iles Marquises, p. 251). Among the Indians of Peru and the Moors of Algiers no fire might be lighted for several days in a house where a death had occurred (Cieza de Leon, Travels, Markham’s translation, p. 366; Dapper, Description de l’Afrique, p. 176). The same custom is reported of the Mohammedans of India (Mandelsloe, in J. Harris’s Voyages and Travels, i. (London, 1744) p. 770). In the East Indian island of Wetter no fire may burn in a house for three days after a death, and according to Bastian the reason is the one given in the text, to wit, a fear that the ghost might fall into it and hurt himself (A. Bastian, Indonesien, ii. 60). For more evidence, see my article “On certain Burial Customs,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xv. (1886) p. 90.

Footnote 872:

For the list of the Alban kings see Livy, i. 3. 5-11; Ovid, Fasti, iv. 39-56; id., Metam. xiv. 609 sqq.; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquit. Rom. i. 70 sq.; Eusebius, Chronic. bk. i. vol. i. coll. 273, 275, 285, 287, 289, 291, ed. A. Schoene; Diodorus Siculus, vii. 3rd ed. L. Dindorf; Sextus Aurelius Victor, Origo gentis Romanae, 17-19; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 1.

Footnote 873:

See B. G. Niebuhr, History of Rome, i. 205-207; A. Schwegler, Römische Geschichte, i. 339, 342-345. However, Niebuhr admits that some of the names may have been taken from older legends.

Footnote 874:

H. M. Stanley, Through the Dark Continent (London, 1878), i. 380; C. T. Wilson and R. W. Felkin, Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan (London, 1882), i. 197; Fr. Stuhlman, Mit Emin Pascha ins Herz von Afrika (Berlin, 1894), pp. 192 sq.; J. Roscoe, “Farther Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 25, with plates i. and ii.; Sir Harry Johnston, The Uganda Protectorate, ii. 681 sq.

Footnote 875:

Romulus and Tatius reigned for a time together; after Romulus the kings were, in order of succession, Numa Pompilius, Tullus Hostilius, Ancus Marcius, the elder Tarquin, Servius Tullius, and Tarquin the Proud.

Footnote 876:

See A. Schwegler, Römische Geschichte, i. 579 sq.

Footnote 877:

According to one account, Romulus had a son and a daughter (Plutarch, Romulus, 14). Some held that Numa had four sons (Plutarch, Numa, 21). Ancus Marcius left two sons (Livy, i. 35. 1, i. 40; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. iii. 72 sq., iv. 34. 3). Tarquin the Elder left two sons or grandsons (Livy, i. 46; Dionysius Halic., Ant. Rom. iv. 6 sq. iv. 28).

Footnote 878:

Pompilia, the mother of Ancus Marcius, was a daughter of Numa. See Cicero, De re publica, ii. 18. 33; Livy, i. 32. 1; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. ii. 76. 5, iii. 35. 3, iii. 36. 2; Plutarch, Numa, 21.

Footnote 879:

Numa married Tatia, the daughter of Tatius (Plutarch, Numa, 3 and 21); Servius Tullius married the daughter of the elder Tarquin (Livy, i. 39. 4); and Tarquin the Proud married Tullia the daughter of Servius Tullius (Livy, i. 42. 1, i. 46. 5).

Footnote 880:

Numa was a Sabine from Cures (Livy, i. 18; Plutarch, Numa, 3; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. ii. 58); Servius Tullius, according to the common account, was the son of Ocrisia, a slave woman of Corniculum (Livy, i. 39. 5; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. iv. 1.), but according to another account he was an Etruscan (see above, p. 196 note); and Tarquin the Proud was a son of the elder Tarquin, who was an Etruscan from Tarquinii (Livy, i. 34; Cicero, De re publica, ii. 19 sq., §§ 34 sq.). The foreign birth of their kings naturally struck the Romans themselves. See the speech put by Livy (i. 35. 3), in the mouth of the elder Tarquin: “Se non rem novam petere, quippe qui non primus, quod quisquam indignari mirarive posset, sed tertius Romae peregrinus regnum adfectet; et Tatium non ex peregrino solum sed etiam ex hoste regem factum, et Numam ignarum urbis non petentem in regnum ultro accitum: se, ex quo sui potens fuerit, Romam cum conjuge ac fortunis omnibus commigrasse.” And see a passage in a speech actually spoken by the Emperor Claudius: “Quondam reges hanc tenuere urbem, nec tamen domesticis successoribus eam tradere contigit. Supervenere alieni et quidem externi, ut Numa Romulo successerit ex Sabinis veniens, vicinus quidem sed tunec externus,” etc. The speech is engraved on bronze tablets found at Lyons. See Tacitus, ed. Baiter and Orelli, i. 2nd Ed., p. 342.

Footnote 881:

“In Ceylon, where the higher and lower polyandry co-exist, marriage is of two sorts—Deega or Beena—according as the wife goes to live in the house and village of her husbands, or as the husband or husbands come to live with her in or near the house of her birth” (J. F. McLennan, Studies in Ancient History (London, 1886), p. 101).

Footnote 882:

The system of mother-kin, that is, of tracing descent through females instead of through males, is often called the matriarchate. But this term is inappropriate and misleading, as it implies that under the system in question the women govern the men. Even when the so-called matriarchate regulates the descent of the kingdom, this does not mean that the women of the royal family reign; it only means that they are the channel through which the kingship is transmitted to their husbands or sons.

Footnote 883:

Ancient writers repeatedly speak of the uncertainty as to the fathers of the Roman kings. See Livy, i. 4. 2; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. ii. 2. 3; Cicero, De re publica, ii. 18. 33; Seneca, Epist. cviii. 30; Aelian, Var. Hist. xiv. 36.

Footnote 884:

Ovid, Fasti, vi. 773-784; Varro, De lingua Latina, vi. 17. Compare L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., ii. 180 sq.

Footnote 885:

See The Golden Bough, Second Edition, iii. 266 sqq., 328 sqq.

Footnote 886:

See Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, pp. 203 sqq.; The Golden Bough, Second Edition, iii. 318 sq.

Footnote 887:

Plutarch, Numa, 3.

Footnote 888:

T. E. Bowdich, Mission from Cape Coast Castle to Ashantee, New Edition (London, 1873), pp. 185, 204 sq.; A. B. Ellis, The Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast, pp. 287, 297 sq.; id., The Yoruba-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast, p. 187.

Footnote 889:

J. Roscoe, “Further Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) pp. 36, 67. In Benin “the legitimate daughters of a king did not marry any one, but bestowed their favours as they pleased.” (Mr. C. Punch, in H. Ling Roth’s Great Benin (Halifax, England, 1903), p. 37).

Footnote 890:

C. T. Wilson and R. W. Felkin, Uganda and the Egyptian Soudan (London, 1882), i. 200; J. Roscoe, “Further Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Baganda,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxii. (1902) p. 67.

Footnote 891:

J. Roscoe, op. cit. pp. 27, 62. Mr. Roscoe says: “The royal family traces its pedigree through the maternal clan, but the nation through the paternal clan.” But he here refers to the descent of the totem only. That the throne descends from father to son is proved by the genealogical tables which he gives (Plates I. and II.).

Footnote 892:

Proyart’s “History of Loango,” in Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels, xvi. 570, 579 sq.; L. Degrandpré, Voyage à la côte occidentale d’Afrique (Paris, 1801), pp. 110-114; A. Bastian, Die deutsche Expedition an der Loango Küste, i. 197 sqq. Time seems not to have mitigated the lot of these unhappy prince consorts. See R. E. Dennett, At the Back of the Black Man’s Mind (London, 1906), pp. 36 sq., 134. Mr. Dennett says that the husband of a princess is virtually her slave and may be put to death by her. All the sisters of the King of Loango enjoy these arbitrary rights over their husbands, and the offspring of any of them may become king.

Footnote 893:

Father Guillemé, “Au Bengouéolo,” Missions Catholiques, xxxiv. (1902) p. 16. The writer visited the state and had an interview with the queen, a woman of gigantic stature, wearing many amulets.

Footnote 894:

Pausanias, i. 2. 6.

Footnote 895:

Pausanias, ii. 29. 4. I have to thank Mr. H. M. Chadwick for pointing out the following Greek and Swedish parallels to what I conceive to have been the Latin practice.

Footnote 896:

Diodorus Siculus, iv. 72. 7. According to Apollodorus (iii. 12. 7), Cychreus, King of Salamis, died childless, and bequeathed his kingdom to Telamon.

Footnote 897:

J. Tzetzes, Schol. on Lycophron, 450. Compare Pausanias, ii. 29. 4.

Footnote 898:

Apollodorus, iii. 13. 1. According to Diodorus Siculus (iv. 72. 6), the king of Phthia was childless, and bequeathed his kingdom to Peleus.

Footnote 899:

Apollodorus, iii. 13. 8; Hyginus, Fabulae, 96.

Footnote 900:

Pausanias, i. 11. 1 sq.; Justin, xvii. 3.

Footnote 901:

Apollodorus, i. 8. 5.

Footnote 902:

Antoninus Liberalis, Transform. 37; Ovid, Metam. xiv. 459 sq., 510 sq. Compare Virgil, Aen. xi. 243 sqq.

Footnote 903:

Diodorus, iv. 73; Hyginus, Fabulae, 82-84; Servius, on Virgil, Georg. iii. 7.

Footnote 904:

Thucydides, i. 9; Strabo, viii. 6. 19, p. 377.

Footnote 905:

Apollodorus, iii. 10. 8.

Footnote 906:

Schol. on Euripides, Orestes, 46; Pindar, Pyth. xi. 31 sq.; Pausanias, iii. 19. 6.

Footnote 907:

H. M. Chadwick, The Origin of the English Nation (Cambridge, 1907), pp. 332 sq. In treating of the succession to the kingdom in Scandinavia, the late K. Maurer, one of the highest authorities on old Norse law, also remarked that “some ancient authorities (Quellenberichte) profess to know of a certain right of succession accorded to women, in virtue of which under certain circumstances, though they could not themselves succeed to the kingdom, they nevertheless could convey it to their husbands.” And he cites a number of instances, how one king (Eysteinn Halfdanarson) succeeded his father-in-law (Eirikr Agnarsson) on the throne; how another (Gudrodr Halfdanarson) received with his wife Alfhildr a portion of her father’s kingdom; and so on. See K. Maurer, Vorlesungen über altnordische Rechtsgeschichte, i. (Leipsic, 1907) pp. 233 sq.

Footnote 908:

G. W. Dasent, Popular Tales from the Norse, pp. 131 sqq.; S. Grundtvig, Dänische Volksmärchen, First Series (Leipsic, 1878), pp. 285 sqq. (Leo’s German translation); Cavallius und Stephens, Schwedische Volkssagen und Märchen, No. 4, pp. 62 sqq. (Oberleitner’s German translation); Grimm, Household Tales, No. 60; Kuhn und Schwartz, Norddeutsche Sagen, Märchen und Gebräuche, pp. 340 sqq.; J. W. Wolf, Deutsche Hausmärchen, pp. 372 sqq.; Philo vom Walde, Schlesien in Sage und Brauch, pp. 81 sqq.; I. V. Zingerle, Kinder- und Hausmärchen aus Tirol, No. 8, pp. 35 sqq. No. 35, pp. 178 sqq.; J. Haltrich, Deutsche Volksmärchen aus dem Sachsenlande in Siebenbürgen, 4th ed., No. 15, pp. 103 sqq.; J. F. Campbell, Popular Tales of the West Highlands, No. 4, vol. i. pp. 77 sqq.; A. Schleicher, Litauische Märchen, Sprichwörte, Rätsel und Lieder, pp. 57 sqq.; A. Leskien und K. Brugmann, Litauische Volkslieder und Märchen, No. 14, pp. 404 sqq.; Basile, Pentamerone, First day, seventh tale, vol. i. pp. 97 sqq. (Liebrecht’s German translation); E. Legrand, Contes populaires grecques, pp. 169 sqq.; J. G. von Hahn, Griechische und albanesische Märchen, No. 98, vol. ii. pp. 114 sq.; A. und A. Schott, Walachische Maehrchen, No. 10, pp. 140 sqq.; W. Webster, Basque Legends, pp. 36-38; A. Schiefner, Awarische Texte (St. Petersburg, 1873), No. 2, pp. 21 sqq.; J. Rivière, Contes populaires de la Kabylie, pp. 195-197.

Footnote 909:

Saxo Grammaticus, Historia Danica, bk. iv. p. 126 (Elton’s translation). The passage occurs on p. 158 of P. E. Müller’s edition of Saxo.

Footnote 910:

The story of Hamlet (Amleth) is told, in a striking form, by Saxo Grammaticus in the third and fourth books of his history. Mr. H. M. Chadwick tells me that Hamlet stands on the border-line between legend and history. Hence the main outlines of his story may be correct.

Footnote 911:

Herodotus, i. 7-13.

Footnote 912:

Nicolaus Damascenus, vi. frag. 49, in Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iii. 380.

Footnote 913:

Athenaeus, xii. 11, pp. 515 F-516 B; Apollodorus, ii. 6. 3; Diodorus Siculus, iv. 31; Joannes Lydus, De magistratibus, iii. 64; Lucian, Dialogi deorum, xiii. 2; Ovid, Heroides, ix. 55 sqq.; Statius, Theb. x. 646-649.

Footnote 914:

Athenaeus, l.c.

Footnote 915:

Herodotus, i. 93; Clearchus, quoted by Athenaeus, xii. 11, p. 516 A B. The Armenians also prostituted their daughters before marriage, dedicating them for a long time to the profligate worship of the goddess Anaitis (Strabo, xi. 14. 16, p. 532 sq.). The custom was probably practised as a charm to secure the fertility of the earth as well as of man and beast. See Adonis, Attis, Osiris, Second Edition, pp. 32 sqq.

Footnote 916:

Herodotus, i. 7.

Footnote 917:

Clearchus, quoted by Athenaeus, xiii. 31, p. 573 A B.

Footnote 918:

See E. A. Freeman, History of the Norman Conquest of England, i. 3rd Ed., 410-412, 733-737. I am indebted to my friend Mr. H. M. Chadwick both for the fact and its explanation.

Footnote 919:

Procopius, De bello Gothico, iv. 20 (vol. ii. p. 593, ed. J. Haury). This and the following cases of marriage with a stepmother are cited by K. Weinhold, Deutsche Frauen 2nd Ed., (Vienna, 1882), ii. 359 sq.

Footnote 920:

Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, ii. 5. 102; compare i. 27. 63.

Footnote 921:

Prudentius Trecensis, “Annales,” anno 858, in Pertz’s Monumenta Germaniae historica, i. 451; Ingulfus, Historia, quoted ibid.

Footnote 922:

This is in substance the view of Dr. W. E. Hearn (The Aryan House-hold, pp. 150-155) and of Prof. B. Delbrück (“Das Mutterrecht bei den Indogermanen,” Preussische Jahrbücher, lxxix. (1895) pp. 14-27).

Footnote 923:

Clearchus of Soli, quoted by Athenaeus, xiii. 2. p. 555 D; John of Antioch, in Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iv. 547; Charax of Pergamus ib. iii. 638; J. Tzetzes, Schol. on Lycophron, 111; id., Chiliades, v. 650-665; Suidas, s.v. Κέκροψ; Justin, ii. 6. 7.

Footnote 924:

Ὁ μὲν οὖν ἀθηναῖος Σόλων ὁμοπατρίους ἐφεὶς ἄγεσθαι, τὰς ὁμομητρίους ἐκώλυσεν, ὁ δὲ Λακεδαιμονίων νομοθέτης ἔμπαλιν, τὸν ἐπὶ ταῖς ὁμογαστρίοις γάμον ἐπιτρέψας, τὸν πρὸς τὰς ὁμοπατρίους ἀπεῖπεν, Philo Judaeus, De specialibus legibus, vol. ii. p. 303, ed. Th. Mangey. See also Plutarch, Themistocles, 32; Cornelius Nepos, Cimon, 1; Schol. on Aristophanes, Clouds, 1371; L. Beauchet, Histoire du droit privé de la République Athénienne, i. (Paris, 1897) pp. 165 sqq. Compare Minucius Felix, Octavius, 31.

Footnote 925:

Polybius, xii. 5.

Footnote 926:

Strabo, xiii. 1. 40, pp. 600 sq.; Plutarch, De sera numinis vindicta, 12; and especially Lycophron, Cassandra, 1141 sqq., with the scholia of J. Tzetzes, who refers to Timaeus and Callimachus as his authorities.

Footnote 927:

Justin, xxi. 3. 1-6.

Footnote 928:

Strabo, iii. 4. 18.

Footnote 929:

Tacitus, Germania, 20. Compare L. Dargun, Mutterrecht und Raubehe und ihre Reste im germanischen Recht und Leben (Breslau, 1883), pp. 21 sq.

Footnote 930:

A. Giraud-Teulon, Les Origines du mariage et de la famille, pp. 206 sqq.; A. H. Post, Afrikanische Jurisprudenz, i. 13 sqq.; Sir Harry H. Johnston, British Central Africa, p. 471; A. B. Ellis, The Tshi-speaking Peoples of the Gold Coast, pp. 297 sq.; id., The Ewe-speaking Peoples of the Slave Coast, pp. 207 sqq. Much more evidence will be found in my Totemism and Exogamy.

Footnote 931:

R. H. Codrington, The Melanesians, p. 50, note 2.

Footnote 932:

Tacitus, Germania, 20.

Footnote 933:

A. W. Howitt, Native Tribes of South-East Australia, pp. 286 sqq. The reipus or payment made on the remarriage of a widow is discussed by L. Dargun, op. cit. pp. 141-152.

Footnote 934:

W. F. Skene held that the Picts were Celts. See his Celtic Scotland, i. 194-227. On the other hand, H. Zimmer supposes them to have been the pre-Celtic inhabitants of the British Islands. See his paper “Das Mutterrecht der Pikten,” Zeitschrift der Savigny-Stiftung für Rechtsgeschichte, xv. (1894) Romanistische Abtheilung, pp. 209 sqq.

Footnote 935:

“Cumque uxores Picti non habentes peterent a Scottis, ea solum conditione dare consenserunt, ut ubi res perveniret in dubium, magis de feminea regum prosapia quam de masculina regem sibi eligerent; quod usque hodie apud Pictos constat esse servatum,” Bede, Historia ecclesiastica gentis Anglorum, ii. 1. 7.

Footnote 936:

W. F. Skene, Celtic Scotland, i. 232-235; J. F. McLennan, Studies in Ancient History (London, 1886), pp. 68-70; H. Zimmer, loc. cit.

Footnote 937:

K. O. Müller, Die Etrusker (Stuttgart, 1877), ii. 376 sq.; J. J. Bachofen, Die Sage von Tanaquil (Heidelberg, 1870), pp. 282-290.

Footnote 938:

Θεόπομπος δ’ ἐν τῇ τεσσαρακοστῇ τρίτῃ τῶν ἱστοριῶν καὶ νόμον εἶναί φησι παρὰ τοῖς Τυρρηνοῖς κοινὰς ὑπάρχειν τὰς γυναῖκας ... τρέφειν δὲ τοὺς Τυρρηνοὺς πάντα τὰ γινόμενα παιδία, οὐκ εἰδότας ὅτου πάτρος ἐστὶν ἕκαστον, Athenaeus, xii. 14, p. 517 D E.

Footnote 939:

“Non enim hic, ubi ex Tusco modo Tute tibi indigne dotem quaeras corpore” (Plautus, Cistellaria, ii. 3. 20 sq.).

Footnote 940:

Herodotus, i. 94; Strabo, v. 2. 2, p. 219; Tacitus, Annals, iv. 55; Timaeus, cited by Tertullian, De spectaculis, 5; Festus, s.v. “Turannos,” p. 355, ed. C. O. Müller; Plutarch, Romulus, 2; Velleius Paterculus, i. 1. 4; Justin, xx. 1. 7; Valerius Maximus, ii. 4. 4; Servius, on Virgil, Aen. i. 67. On the other hand, Dionysius of Halicarnassus held that the Etruscans were an indigenous Italian race, differing from all other known peoples in language and customs (Ant. Rom. i. 26-30). On this much-vexed question, see K. O. Müller, Die Etrusker (Stuttgart, 1877), i. 65 sqq.; G. Dennis, Cities and Cemeteries of Etruria, 3rd Ed., i. pp. xxxiii. sqq.; F. Hommel, Grundriss der Geographie und Geschichte des Alten Orients, 2nd Ed., pp. 63 sqq. (in Iwan von Müller’s Handbuch der klassischen Altertumswissenschaft, vol. iii.).

Footnote 941:

It is doubtful whether Servius Tullius was a Latin or an Etruscan. See above, p. 195, note 1.

Footnote 942:

“All over India the hedge-priest is very often an autochthon, his long residence in the land being supposed to confer upon him the knowledge of the character and peculiarities of the local gods, and to teach him the proper mode in which they may be conciliated. Thus the Doms preserve to the present day the animistic and demonistic beliefs of the aboriginal races, which the Khasiyas, who have succeeded them, temper with the worship of the village deities, the named and localised divine entities, with the occasional languid cult of the greater Hindu gods. The propitiation of the vague spirits of wood, or cliff, river or lake, they are satisfied to leave in charge of their serfs” (W. Crooke, Natives of Northern India, London, 1907, pp. 104 sq.). When the Israelites had been carried away captives into Assyria, the new settlers in the desolate land of Israel were attacked by lions, which they supposed to be sent against them by the god of the country because, as strangers, they did not know how to propitiate him. So they petitioned the king of Assyria and he sent them a native Israelitish priest, who taught them how to worship the God of Israel. See 2 Kings xvii. 24-28.

Footnote 943:

H. Jordan, Die Könige im alten Italien (Berlin, 1884), pp. 15-25.

Footnote 944:

Livy, i. 56. 7; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. iv. 68. 1.

Footnote 945:

Livy, i. 34. 2 sq., i. 38. 1, i. 57. 6; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. iv. 64.

Footnote 946:

I owe to Mr. A. B. Cook the interesting suggestion that the double consulship was a revival of a double kingship.

Footnote 947:

As to the Regifugium see below, pp. 308-310.

Footnote 948:

Pausanias, iv. 5. 10; G. Gilbert, Handbuch der griech. Staatsalterthümer, i. 2nd Ed., 122 sq.

Footnote 949:

The two supreme magistrates who replaced the kings were at first called praetors. See Livy, iii. 55. 12; B. G. Niebuhr, History of Rome, 3rd Ed., i. 520 sq.; Th. Mommsen, Römisches Staatsrecht, ii. 3rd Ed., 74 sqq. That the power of the first consuls was, with the limitations indicated in the text, that of the old kings is fully recognised by Livy (ii. 1. 7 sq.).

Footnote 950:

It was a disputed point whether Tarquin the Proud was the son or grandson of Tarquin the Elder. Most writers, and Livy (i. 46. 4) among them, held that he was a son. Dionysius of Halicarnassus, on the other hand, argued that he must have been a grandson; he insists strongly on the chronological difficulties to which the ordinary hypothesis is exposed if Servius Tullius reigned, as he is said to have reigned, forty-four years. See Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. iv. 6 sq.

Footnote 951:

Livy, i. 48. 2; Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. iv. 31 sq. and 46.

Footnote 952:

Livy, i. 56; Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. iv. 67-69, 77; Valerius Maximus, vii. 3. 2; Aurelius Victor, De viris illustribus, x. The murder of Brutus’s father and brother is recorded by Dionysius; the other writers mention the assassination of his brother only. The resemblance between Brutus and Hamlet has been pointed out before. See F. York Powell, in Elton’s translation of Saxo Grammaticus’s Danish History (London, 1894), pp. 405-410.

Footnote 953:

D. Livingstone, Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa, pp. 617 sq. Many more examples are given by A. H. Post, Afrikanische Jurisprudenz (Oldenburg and Leipsic), i. 134 sqq.

Footnote 954:

D. Livingstone, op. cit. p. 434.

Footnote 955:

H. Hecquard, Reise an die Küste und in das Innere von West-Afrika (Leipsic, 1854), p. 104. This and the preceding example are cited by A. H. Post, l.c.

Footnote 956:

J. A. Chisholm, “Notes on the Manners and Customs of the Winamwanga and Wiwa,” Journal of the African Society, No. 36 (July 1910), p. 384.

Footnote 957:

J. Spieth, Die Ewe-Stämme (Berlin, 1906), pp. 784 sq.

Footnote 958:

Sir William MacGregor, “Lagos, Abeokuta, and the Alake,” Journal of the African Society, No. 12 (July 1904), pp. 470 sq.

Footnote 959:

C. Partridge, “The Burial of the Atta of Igaraland, and the ‘Coronation’ of his Successor,” Blackwood’s Magazine, September 1904, pp. 329 sq. Mr. Partridge kindly gave me some details as to the election of the king in a letter dated 24th October 1904. He is Assistant District Commissioner in Southern Nigeria.

Footnote 960:

Major P. R. T. Gurdon, The Khasis (London, 1907), pp. 66-75.

Footnote 961:

Livy, i. 17; Cicero, De re publica, ii. 17. 31.

Footnote 962:

As to the nomination of the King of the Sacred Rites see Livy, xl. 42; Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. v. 1. 4. The latter writer says that the augurs co-operated with the pontiff in the nomination.

Footnote 963:

Th. Mommsen, Römisches Staatsrecht, ii. 3rd Ed., 6-8; A. H. J. Greenidge, Roman Public Life, pp. 45 sqq. Mr. Greenidge thinks that the king was regularly nominated by his predecessor and only occasionally by an interim king. Mommsen holds that he was always nominated by the latter.

Footnote 964:

Compare Lucretius, v. 1108 sqq.:

“_Condere coeperunt urbis arcemque locare Praesidium reges ipsi sibi perfugiumque, Et pecus atque agros divisere atque dedere Pro facie cujusque et viribus ingenioque; Nam facies multum valuit viresque vigentes._”

Footnote 965:

Nicolaus Damascenus, in Stobaeus, Florilegium, xliv. 41 (Frag. Histor. Graec. ed. C. Müller, iii. 463). Other writers say simply that the tallest, strongest, or handsomest man was chosen king. See Herodotus, iii. 20; Aristotle, Politics, iv. 4; Athenaeus, xiii. 20, p. 566 c.

Footnote 966:

Zenobius, Cent. v. 25.

Footnote 967:

J. Shooter, The Kafirs of Natal, pp. 4 sq. Compare D. Livingstone, Missionary Travels and Researches in South Africa, p. 186; W. Max Müller, Asien und Europa (Leipsic, 1893), p. 110.

Footnote 968:

Zenobius, Cent. v. 25.

Footnote 969:

Strabo, xi. 21, p. 492.

Footnote 970:

Hippocrates, De aere locis et aquis (vol. i. pp. 550 sq. ed. Kühn).

Footnote 971:

Captain Guy Burrows, The Land of the Pigmies (London, 1898), p. 95. Speaking of this tribe, Emin Pasha observes: “The most curious custom, however, and one which is particularly observed in the ruling families, is bandaging the heads of infants. By means of these bandages a lengthening of the head along its horizontal axis is produced; and whereas the ordinary Monbutto people have rather round heads, the form of the head in the better classes shows an extraordinary increase in length, which certainly very well suits their style of hair and of hats.” See Emin Pasha in Central Africa, being a Collection of Letters and Journals (London, 1888), p. 212.

Footnote 972:

Lewis and Clark, Expedition to the Sources of the Missouri, ch. 23, vol. ii. 327 sq. (reprinted at London, 1905); D. W. Harmon, quoted by Rev. J. Morse, Report to the Secretary of War of the United States on Indian Affairs (Newhaven, 1822), Appendix, p. 346; H. R. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, ii. 325 sq.; R. C. Mayne, Four Years in British Columbia, p. 277; G. M. Sproat, Scenes and Studies of Savage Life, pp. 28-30; H. H. Bancroft, Native Races of the Pacific States, i. 180.

Footnote 973:

C. Hill-Tout, The Far West, the Home of the Salish and Déné (London, 1907), p. 40. As to the custom in general among these tribes, see ibid. pp. 38-41. In Melanesia the practice of artificially lengthening the head into a cone by means of bandages applied in infancy is observed by the natives of Malikolo (Malekula) in the New Hebrides and also by the natives of the south coast of New Britain, from Cape Roebuck to Cape Bedder. See Beatrice Grimshaw, From Fiji to the Cannibal Islands (London, 1907), pp. 258-260; R. Parkinson, Dreissig Jahre in der Südsee (Stuttgart, 1907), pp. 204-206.

Footnote 974:

V. Fric and P. Radin, “Contributions to the Study of the Bororo Indians,” Journal of the Anthropological Institute, xxxvi. (1906) pp. 388 sq.

Footnote 975:

See The Spectator, Nos. 18 and 20.

Footnote 976:

Nicolaus Damascenus, in Stobaeus, Florilegium, xliv. 41 (Fragmenta Historic. Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iii. 463).

Footnote 977:

Simon Grunau, Preussische Chronik, Tract. ii. cap. iii. § 2, p. 66, ed. M. Perlbach. This passage was pointed out to me by Mr. H. M. Chadwick.

Footnote 978:

Pausanias, v. 1. 4, vi. 20. 9.

Footnote 979:

Apollodorus, Epitoma, ii. 4-9, ed. R. Wagner (Apollodorus, Bibliotheca, ed. R. Wagner, pp. 183 sq.); Diodorus Siculus, iv. 73; Pausanias, v. 1. 6 sq., v. 10. 6 sq., v. 14. 7, v. 17. 7 sq., v. 20. 6 sq., vi. 21. 7-11.

Footnote 980:

Pausanias, vi. 21. 3.

Footnote 981:

Pausanias, v. 13. 1-6, vi. 20. 7.

Footnote 982:

Pausanias, iii. 12. 1, 20. 10 sq.

Footnote 983:

Pindar, Pyth. ix. 181-220, with the Scholia.

Footnote 984:

Pindar, Pyth. ix. 195 sqq.; Pausanias, iii. 12. 2.

Footnote 985:

Apollodorus, iii. 9. 2; Hyginus, Fab. 185; Ovid, Metam. x. 560 sqq.

Footnote 986:

E. Schuyler, Turkistan (London, 1876), i. 42 sq. This and the four following examples of the bride-race have been already cited by J. F. McLennan, Studies in Ancient History (London, 1886), pp. 15 sq., 181-184. He supposes them to be relics of a custom of capturing women from another community.

Footnote 987:

E. D. Clarke, Travels in Various Countries, i. (London, 1810), p. 333. In the fourth octavo edition of Clarke’s Travels (vol. i., London, 1816), from which McLennan seems to have quoted, there are a few verbal changes.

Footnote 988:

J. McLennan, op. cit. pp. 183 sq., referring to Kennan’s Tent Life in Siberia (1870), which I have not seen. Compare W. Jochelson, “The Koryak” (Leyden and New York, 1908), p. 742 (Memoir of the American Museum of Natural History, The Jesup North Pacific Expedition, vol. vi.).

Footnote 989:

Letter of the missionary Bigandet, dated March 1847, in Annales de la Propagation de la Foi, xx. (1848) p. 431. A similar account of the ceremony is given by M. Bourien, “Wild Tribes of the Malay Peninsula,” Transactions of the Ethnological Society of London, N.S. iii. (1865) p. 81. See further W. W. Skeat and C.O. Blagden, Pagan Races of the Malay Peninsula (London, 1906), ii. 68, 77 sq., 79 sq., 82 sq.

Footnote 990:

J. Cameron, Our Tropical Possessions in Malayan India (London, 1865), pp. 116 sq.

Footnote 991:

Dudley Kidd, The Essential Kafir (London, 1904), p. 219.

Footnote 992:

Middle High German brûtlouf, modern German Brautlauf, Anglo-Saxon brydhléap, old Norse brudhlaup, modern Norse bryllup. See Grimm, Deutsches Wörterbuch, s.v. “Brautlauf”; K. Weinhold, Deutsche Frauen, 2nd Ed., i. 407. The latter writer supposes the word to refer merely to the procession from the house of the bride to the house of the bridegroom. But Grimm is most probably right in holding that originally it applied to a real race for the bride. This is the view also of K. Simrock (Deutsche Mythologie, 5th Ed. pp. 598 sq.). Another writer sees in it a trace of marriage by capture (L. Dargun, Mutterrecht und Raubehe (Breslau, 1883), p. 130). Compare K. Schmidt, Jus primae noctis (Freiburg i. B. 1881), p. 129.

Footnote 993:

A. Kuhn, Märkische Sagen und Märchen (Berlin, 1843), p. 358.

Footnote 994:

W. Kolbe, Hessische Volks-sitten und Gebräuche (Marburg, 1888), pp. 150 sq.

Footnote 995:

Lentner and Dahn, in Bavaria, Landes- und Volkskunde des Königreichs Bayern, i. (Munich, 1860) pp. 398 sq.

Footnote 996:

J. Brand, Popular Antiquities, ii. 153-155 (Bohn’s edition); J. Jamieson, Dictionary of the Scottish Language, s.v. “Broose.”

Footnote 997:

E. Herrmann, “Über Lieder und Bräuche bei Hochzeiten in Kärnten,” Archiv für Anthropologie, xix. (1891) p. 169.

Footnote 998:

Nicolaus Damascenus, quoted by Stobaeus, Florilegium, xliv. 41; Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iii. 457.

Footnote 999:

Strabo, v. 4. 12, p. 250.

Footnote 1000:

Arthur Young, “Tour in Ireland,” in Pinkerton’s Voyages and Travels, iii. 860.

Footnote 1001:

Mahabharata, condensed into English by Romesch Dutt (London, 1898), pp. 15 sqq.; J. C. Oman, The Great Indian Epics, pp. 109 sqq.

Footnote 1002:

J. D. Mayne, A Treatise on Hindu Law and Usage 3rd Ed., (Madras and London, 1883), p. 56; The Vikramânkadevacharita, edited by G. Bühler (Bombay, 1875), pp. 38-40; A. Holtzmann, Das Mahābharata und seine Theile, i. (Kiel, 1895), pp. 21 sq.; J. Jolly, Recht und Sitte, pp. 50 sq. (in G. Bühler’s Grundriss der indo-arischen Philologie).

Footnote 1003:

The Book of Ser Marco Polo., Yule’s translation, 2nd Ed., bk. iv. ch. 4, vol. ii. pp. 461-463.

Footnote 1004:

The Lay of the Nibelungs, translated by Alice Horton (London, 1898), Adventures vi. and vii.

Footnote 1005:

Parthenius, Narrat. Amat. vi. This passage was pointed out to me by Mr. A. B. Cook, who has himself discussed the contest for the kingship. See his article, “The European Sky-god,” Folk-lore, xv. (1904) pp. 376 sqq.

Footnote 1006:

Herodotus, vi. 126-130. It is to be observed that in this and other of the examples cited above the succession to the kingdom did not pass with the hand of the princess.

Footnote 1007:

See above, pp. 69, 84, 90 sq. These customs were observed at Whitsuntide, not on May Day. But the Whitsuntide king and queen are obviously equivalent to the King and Queen of May. Hence I allow myself to use the latter and more familiar titles so as to include the former.

Footnote 1008:

Ovid, Fasti, ii. 685 sqq.; Plutarch, Quaest. Rom. 63; J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 323 sq.; W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic, pp. 327 sqq.

Footnote 1009:

Another proposed explanation of the regifugium is that the king fled because at the sacrifice he had incurred the guilt of slaying a sacred animal. See W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic, pp. 328 sqq. The best-known example of such a ritual flight is that of the men who slew the ox at the Athenian festival of the Bouphonia. See The Golden Bough, Second Edition, ii. 294. Amongst the Pawnees the four men who assisted at the sacrifice of a girl to Ti-ra’-wa used to run away very fast after the deed was done and wash themselves in the river. See G. B. Grinnell, Pawnee Hero Stories and Folk-Tales (New York, 1889), pp. 365 sq. Among the ancient Egyptians the man whose duty it was to slit open a corpse for the purpose of embalming it fled as soon as he had done his part, pursued by all the persons present, who pelted him with stones and cursed him, “turning as it were the pollution on him; for they suppose that any one who violates or wounds or does any harm to the person of a fellow-tribesman is hateful” (Diodorus Siculus, i. 91. 4). Similarly in the western islands of Torres Straits the man whose duty it was to decapitate a corpse for the purpose of preserving the skull was shot at with arrows by the relatives of the deceased as an expiation for the injury he had done to the corpse of their kinsman. See Reports of the Cambridge Anthropological Expedition to Torres Straits, v. (Cambridge, 1904) pp. 249, 251. This explanation of the regifugium certainly deserves to be considered. But on this as on so many other points of ancient ritual we can hardly hope ever to attain to certainty.

Footnote 1010:

F. Cumont, “Les Actes de S. Dasius,” Analecta Bollandiana, xvi. (1897) pp. 5-16. See further Messrs. Parmentier and Cumont, “Le Roi des Saturnales,” Revue de Philologie, xxi. (1897) pp. 143-153; The Golden Bough, Second Edition, iii. 138 sqq. The tomb of St. Dasius, a Christian soldier who was put to death at Durostorum in 303 A.D. after refusing to play the part of Saturn at the festival, has since been discovered at Ancona. A Greek inscription on the tomb records that the martyr’s remains were brought thither from Durostorum. See F. Cumont, “Le Tombeau de S. Dasius de Durostorum,” Analecta Bollandiana, xxvii. (1908) pp. 369-372. Professor A. Erhard of Strasburg, who has been engaged for years in preparing an edition of the Acta Martyrum for the Berlin Corpus of Greek Fathers, informed me in conversation at Cambridge in the summer of 1910 that he ranks the Acts of St. Dasius among the authentic documents of their class. The plain unvarnished narrative bears indeed the stamp of truth on its face.

Footnote 1011:

Tacitus, Annals, xiii. 15; Arrian, Epicteti dissert. i. 25. 8; Lucian, Saturnalia, 4.

Footnote 1012:

As to these temporary kings see The Golden Bough, Second Edition, ii. 24 sqq.

Footnote 1013:

Varro, Rerum rusticarum, iii. 1. 5; Virgil, Aen. viii. 324; Tibullus, i. 3. 35; Augustine, De civitate Dei, vii. 19. Compare Wissowa, in W. H. Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. und röm. Mythologie, iv. 433 sq.

Footnote 1014:

On Saturn as the god of sowing and the derivation of his name from a root meaning “to sow,” from which comes satus “sowing,” see Varro, De lingua Latina, v. 64; Festus, s.v. “Opima spolia,” p. 186, ed. C. O. Müller; Augustine, De civitate Dei, vii. 2, 3. 13, 15; Wissowa, in W. H. Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. und röm. Mythologie, iv. 428. The derivation is confirmed by the form Saeturnus which occurs in an inscription (Saeturni pocolom, H. Dessau, Inscript. Latinae selectae, No. 2966). As to the Saturnalia see L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., ii. 15 sqq.; J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung, 2nd Ed., pp. 586 sqq.; Dezobry, Rome au siècle d’Auguste, iii. 143 sqq.; W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic, pp. 268 sqq. The festival was held from the seventeenth to the twenty-third of December. I formerly argued that in the old days, when the Roman year began with March instead of with January, the Saturnalia may have been held from the seventeenth to the twenty-third of February, in which case the festival must have immediately preceded the Flight of the King, which fell on February the twenty-fourth. See The Golden Bough, Second Edition, iii. 144 sqq.; Lectures on the Early History of the Kingship, p. 266. But this attempt to bring the ancient Saturnalia into immediate juxtaposition to the King’s Flight breaks down when we observe, as my friend Mr. W. Warde Fowler has pointed out to me, that the Saturnalia fell in December under the Republic, long before Caesar, in his reform of the calendar, had shifted the commencement of the year from March to January. See Livy, xxii. 1. 19 sq.

Footnote 1015:

Roman farmers sowed wheat, spelt, and barley in December, flax up to the seventh of that month, and beans up to the eleventh (the festival of Septimontium). See Palladius, De re rustica, xiii. 1. In the lowlands of Sicily at the present day November and December are the months of sowing, but in the highlands August and September. See G. Pitrè, Usi e costumi, credenze e pregiudizi del popolo siciliano, iii. (Palermo, 1889) pp. 132 sqq. Hence we may suppose that in the Roman Campagna of old the last sowing of autumn was over before the middle of December, when the Saturnalia began.

Footnote 1016:

This temporary liberty accorded to slaves was one of the most remarkable features of the Saturnalia and kindred festivals in antiquity. See The Golden Bough, Second Edition, iii. 139 sqq.

Footnote 1017:

The learned Swiss scholar, J. J. Bachofen long ago drew out in minute detail the parallel between these birth legends of the Roman kings and licentious festivals like the Roman Saturnalia and the Babylonian Sacaea. See his book Die Sage von Tanaquil (Heidelberg, 1870), pp. 133 sqq. To be frank, I have not had the patience to read through his long dissertation.

Footnote 1018:

Livy, i. 16; Dionysius Halic. Ant. Rom. ii. 56; Plutarch, Romulus, 27; Florus, i. 1. 16 sq. See above, pp. 181 sq.

Footnote 1019:

Varro, De lingua Latina, vi. 18; Plutarch, Romulus, 29; id., Camillus, 33; Macrobius, Saturn. i. 11. 36-40. The analogy of this festival to the Babylonian Sacaea was long ago pointed out by J. J. Bachofen. See his book Die Sage von Tanaquil (Heidelberg, 1870), pp. 172 sqq.

Footnote 1020:

Aristotle, Hist. anim. v. 32, p. 557_b_, ed. Bekker; Theophrastus, Hist. Plant. ii. 8; id., De causis plantarum, ii. 9; Plutarch, Quaest. conviv. vii. 2. 2; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xv. 79-81, xvi. 114, xvii. 256; Palladius, iv. 10. 28, vii. 5. 2; Columella, xi. 2. 56; Geoponica, iii. 6, x. 48. As to the practice in modern Greece and the fig-growing districts of Asia Minor, see P. de Tournefort, Relation d’un voyage du Levant (Amsterdam, 1718), i. 130; W. R. Paton, “The Pharmakoi and the Story of the Fall,” Revue archéologique, IVème Série, ix. (1907) p. 51. For an elaborate examination of the process and its relation to the domestication and spread of the fig-tree, see Graf zu Solms-Laubach, “Die Herkunft, Domestication und Verbreitung des gewöhnlichen Feigenbaums (Ficus Carica, L.),” Abhandlungen der Königlichen Gesellschaft der Wissenschaften zu Göttingen, xxviii. (1882) pp. 1-106. This last writer thinks that the operation was not practised by Italian husbandmen, because it is not mentioned by Cato and Varro. But their silence can hardly outweigh the express mention and recommendation of it by Palladius and Columella. Theophrastus, it is true, says that the process was not in use in Italy (Hist. Plantarum, ii. 8. 1), but he can scarcely have had exact information on this subject. Caprificatio, as this artificial fertilisation of fig-trees is called, is still employed by the Neapolitan peasantry, though it seems to be unknown in northern Italy. Pliny’s account has no independent value, as he merely copies from Theophrastus. The name “goat-fig” (caprificus) applied to the wild fig-tree may be derived from the notion that the tree is a male who mounts the female as the he-goat mounts the she-goat. Similarly the Messenians called the tree simply “he-goat” (τράγος). See Pausanias, iv. 20. 1-3.

Footnote 1021:

G. Pitrè, Usi e costumi, credenze e pregiudizi del popolo siciliano, iii. 113.

Footnote 1022:

Budgett Meakin, The Moors (London, 1902), p. 258; E. Doutté, Magie et religion dans l’Afrique du Nord (Algiers, 1908), p. 568.

Footnote 1023:

A. Engler, in V. Hehn’s Kulturpflanzen und Hausthiere, 7th Ed., (Berlin, 1902), p. 99. Compare Graf zu Solms-Laubach, op. cit.; Encyclopaedia Biblica, s.v. “Fig-tree,” vol. iv. 1519. The ancients were well aware of the production of these insects in the wild fig-tree and their transference to the cultivated fig-tree. Sometimes instead of fertilising the trees by hand they contented themselves with planting wild fig-trees near cultivated fig-trees, so that the fertilisation was effected by the wind, which blew the insects from the male to the female trees. See Aristotle, l.c.; Theophrastus, De causis plantarum, ii. 9; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xv. 79-81; Palladius, iv. 10. 28. On subject of the fertilisation of the fig the late Professor H. Marshall Ward of Cambridge kindly furnished me with the following note, which will serve to supplement and correct the brief account in the text:—“The fig is a hollow case full of flowers. In the wild fig a small gall wasp (Cynips psenes) lays its eggs: this kind of fig is still called Caprificus. The eggs hatch in the female flowers at the base of the hollow fig: at the top, near the ostiole observable on any ripe fig, are the male flowers. When the eggs hatch, and the little insects creep through the ostiole, the male flowers dust the wasp with pollen, and the insect flies to another flower (to lay its eggs), and so fertilises many of the female flowers in return for the nursery afforded its eggs. Now, the cultivated fig is apt to be barren of male flowers. Hence the hanging of branches bearing wild figs enables the escaping wasps to do the trick. The ancients knew the fact that the propinquity of the Caprificus helped the fertility of the cultivated fig, but, of course, they did not know the details of the process. The further complexities are, chiefly, that the fig bears two kinds of female flowers: one especially fitted for the wasp’s convenience, the other not. The Caprificus figs are inedible. In Naples three crops of them are borne every year, viz. Mamme (in April), Profichi (in June), and Mammoni (in August). It is the June crop that bears most male flowers and is most useful.” The suggestion that the festival of the seventh of July was connected with this horticultural operation is due to L. Preller (Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 287).

Footnote 1024:

See above, pp. 24 sq.

Footnote 1025:

1 Kings iv. 25; 2 Kings xviii. 31; Isaiah xxxvi. 16; Micah iv. 4; Zechariah iii. 10; Judges ix. 10 sq.; H. B. Tristram, The Natural History of the Bible 9th Ed. (London, 1898), pp. 350 sqq.; Encyclopaedia Biblica, s.v. “Fig Tree,” vol. ii. 1519 sq.

Footnote 1026:

Herodotus, i. 71.

Footnote 1027:

Zamachschar, cited by Graf zu Solms-Laubach, op. cit. p. 82. For more evidence as to the fig in antiquity see V. Hehn, Kulturpflanzen und Hausthiere, 7th Ed., pp. 94 sqq.

Footnote 1028:

Letter of Mr. C. W. Hobley to me, dated Nairobi, British East Africa, July 27th, 1910. This interesting information was given spontaneously and not in answer to any questions of mine.

Footnote 1029:

C. W. Hobley, The Ethnology of A-Kamba and other East African Tribes (Cambridge, 1910), pp. 85, 89 sq. In British Central Africa “every village has its ‘prayer-tree,’ under which the sacrifices are offered. It stands (usually) in the bwalo, the open space which Mr. Macdonald calls the ‘forum,’ and is, sometimes, at any rate, a wild fig-tree.” “This is the principal tree used for making bark-cloth. Livingstone says, ‘It is a sacred tree all over Africa and India’; and I learn from M. Auguste Chevalier that it is found in every village of Senegal and French Guinea, and looked on as ‘a fetich-tree’” (Miss A. Werner, The Natives of British Central Africa, pp. 62 sq.).

Footnote 1030:

From the unpublished papers of the Rev. John Roscoe, which he has kindly placed at my disposal.

Footnote 1031:

Varro, De lingua Latina, v. 54; Livy, i. 4. 5; Ovid, Fasti, ii. 411 sq.; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xv. 77; Festus, pp. 266, 270, 271, ed. C. O. Müller; Tacitus, Annals, xiii. 58; Servius on Virgil, Aen. viii. 90; Plutarch, Romulus, 4; id., Quaestiones Romanae, 57; Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Antiquitates Romanae, iii. 71. 5. All the Roman writers speak of the tree as a cultivated fig (ficus), not a wild fig (caprificus), and Dionysius agrees with them. Plutarch alone (Romulus, 4) describes it as a wild fig-tree (ἐρινεός). See also above, p. 10.

Footnote 1032:

Festus, p. 266, ed. C. O. Müller; Ettore Pais, Ancient Legends of Roman History (London, 1906), pp. 55 sqq. Festus indeed treats the derivation as an absurdity, and many people will be inclined to agree with him.

Footnote 1033:

On the fifth of July a ceremony called the Flight of the People was performed at Rome. Some ancient writers thought that it commemorated the dispersal of the people after the disappearance of Romulus. But this is to confuse the dates; for, according to tradition, the death of Romulus took place on the seventh, not the fifth of July, and therefore after instead of before the Flight of the People. See Varro, De lingua Latina, vi. 18; Macrobius, Sat. iii. 2. 14; Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom. ii. 56. 5; Plutarch, Romulus, 29; id., Camillus, 33; W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic, pp. 174 sqq. Mr. Warde Fowler may be right in thinking that some connexion perhaps existed between the ceremonies of the two days, the fifth and the seventh; and I agree with his suggestion that “the story itself of the death of Romulus had grown out of some religious rite performed at this time of year.” I note as a curious coincidence, for it can hardly be more, that at Bodmin in Cornwall a festival was held on the seventh of July, when a Lord of Misrule was appointed, who tried people for imaginary crimes and sentenced them to be ducked in a quagmire called Halgaver, which is explained to mean “the goat’s moor.” See T. F. Thiselton Dyer, British Popular Customs, p. 339. The “goat’s moor” is an odd echo of the “goat’s marsh” at which Romulus disappeared on the same day of the year (Livy, i. 16. 1; Plutarch, Romulus, 29; id., Camillus, 33).

Footnote 1034:

Livy, i. 14. 1 sq.; Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom. ii. 52. 3; Plutarch, Romulus, 23.

Footnote 1035:

Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom. iii. 35; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 6. As to his reported death by lightning, see above, p. 181.

Footnote 1036:

Plutarch, Numa, 22. I have pruned the luxuriant periods in which Plutarch dwells, with edifying unction, on the righteous visitation of God which overtook that early agnostic Tullus Hostilius.

Footnote 1037:

Aurelius Victor, De viris illustribus, v. 5.

Footnote 1038:

Livy, i. 40; Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom. iii. 73.

Footnote 1039:

Livy, i. 48; Dionysius Halicarn. Ant. Rom. iv. 38 sq.; Solinus, i. 25. The reading Virbium clivum (“the slope of Virbius”) occurs only in the more recent manuscripts of Livy: the better-attested reading both of Livy and Solinus is Urbium. But the obscure Virbium would easily and naturally be altered into Urbium, whereas the reverse change is very improbable. See Mr. A. B. Cook, in Classical Review, xvi. (1902) p. 380, note 3. In this passage Mr. Cook was the first to call attention to the analogy between the murder of the slave-born king, Servius Tullius, and the slaughter of the slave-king by his successor at Nemi. As to the oak-woods of the Esquiline see above, p. 185.

Footnote 1040:

Nicolaus Damascenus, in Stobaeus, Florilegium, x. 70. Fragmenta Historicorum Graecorum, ed. C. Müller, iii. 457.

Footnote 1041:

H. Jordan, Die Könige im alten Italien (Berlin, 1887), pp. 44 sq. In this his last work Jordan argues that the Umbrian practice, combined with the rule of the Arician priesthood, throws light on the existence and nature of the kingship among the ancient Latins. On this subject I am happy to be at one with so learned and judicious a scholar.

Footnote 1042:

R. E. Dennett, At the Back of the Black Man’s Mind (London, 1906), pp. 11 sq., 111, 131 sq., 135. The word translated “sacred ground” (xibila, plural bibila) means properly “sacred grove.” Such “sacred groves” are common in this part of Africa, but in the “sacred grove” of the king of Loango the tree beside which the monarch takes post to fight for the crown appears to stand solitary in a grassy plain. See R. E. Dennett, op. cit. pp. 11 sq., 25, 96 sqq., 110 sqq. We have seen that the right of succession to the throne of Loango descends in the female line (above, pp. 276 sq.), which furnishes another point of resemblance between Loango and Rome, if my theory of the Roman kingship is correct.

Footnote 1043:

J. G. Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy, ii. 530. My authority is the Rev. John Roscoe, formerly of the Church Missionary Society in Uganda.

Footnote 1044:

Memoirs of Samuel Pepys, edited by Richard, Lord Braybrooke, Second Edition (London, 1828), i. 193 sq. (under April 23rd, 1661).

Spotted a typo or a problem in this chapter? Tell us

XIX. ST. GEORGE AND THE PARILIA

[Sidenote: The early Italians were as much a pastoral as an agricultural people, and their kings would be expected to ensure the safety and fecundity of the flocks and herds.] In the course of the preceding investigation we found reason to assume that the old Latin kings, like their brethren in many parts of the world, were charged with certain religious duties or magical functions, amongst which the maintenance of the fertility of the earth held a principal place. By this I do not mean that they had to see to it only that the rain fell, and that the corn grew and trees put forth their fruit in due season. In those early days it is probable that the Italians were quite as much a pastoral as an agricultural people, or, in other words, that they depended for their subsistence no less on their flocks and herds than on their fields and orchards. To provide their cattle with grass and water, to ensure their fecundity and the abundance of their milk, and to guard them from the depredations of wild beasts, would be objects of the first importance with the shepherds and herdsmen who, according to tradition, founded Rome;[1045] and the king, as the representative or embodiment of the deity, would be expected to do his part towards procuring these blessings for his people by the performance of sacred rites. The Greeks of the Homeric age, as we have seen, thought that the reign of a good king not only made the land to bear wheat and barley, but also caused the flocks to multiply and the sea to yield fish.[1046]

[Sidenote: Numa is said to have been born and Rome to have been founded on the shepherds’ festival of the Parilia, the twenty-first of April.] In this connexion, accordingly, it can be no mere accident that Rome is said to have been founded and the pious king Numa to have been born on the twenty-first of April, the day of the great shepherds’ festival of the Parilia.[1047] It is very unlikely that the real day either of the foundation of the city or of Numa’s birth should have been remembered, even if we suppose Numa to have been an historical personage rather than a mythical type; it is far more probable that both events were arbitrarily assigned to this date by the speculative antiquaries of a later age on the ground of some assumed fitness or propriety. In what did this fitness or propriety consist? The belief that the first Romans were shepherds and herdsmen would be reason enough for supposing that Rome was founded on the day of the shepherds’ festival, or even that the festival was instituted to commemorate the event.[1048] But why should Numa be thought to have been born on that day of all days? Perhaps it was because the old sacred kings, of whom he was the model, had to play an important part in the ceremonies of the day. The birthdays of the gods were celebrated by festivals;[1049] the kings were divine or semi-divine; it would be natural, therefore, that their birthdays should be identified with high feasts and holidays. Whether this was so or not, the festival of the Parilia presents so many points of resemblance to some of the popular customs discussed in these volumes that a brief examination of it may not be inappropriate in this place.[1050]

[Sidenote: The Parilia, a festival celebrated by shepherds and herdsmen in honour of Pales, for the safety and increase of their flocks and herds.] The spring festival of the twenty-first of April, known as the birthday of Rome,[1051] was deemed second in importance to none in the calendar.[1052] It was held by shepherds and herdsmen for the welfare and increase of their flocks and herds.[1053] The pastoral deity to whom they paid their devotions was Pales, as to whose sex the ancients themselves were not at one. In later times they commonly spoke of her as a goddess; but Varro regarded Pales as masculine,[1054] and we may follow his high authority. The day was celebrated with similar rites both in the town and the country, but in its origin it must have been a strictly rural festival. Indeed, it could hardly be carried out in full except among the sheepfolds and cattle-pens. At some time of the day, probably in the morning, the people repaired to the temple of Vesta, where they received from the Vestal Virgins ashes, blood, and bean-straw to be used in fumigating themselves and probably their beasts. The ashes were those of the unborn calves which had been torn from their mothers’ wombs on the fifteenth of April; the blood was that which had dripped from the tail of a horse sacrificed in October.[1055] Both were probably supposed to exercise a fertilising as well as a cleansing influence on the people and on the cattle;[1056] for apparently one effect of the ceremonies, in the popular opinion, was to quicken the wombs of women no less than of cows and ewes.[1057] At break of day the shepherd purified his sheep, after sprinkling and sweeping the ground. The fold was decked with leafy boughs, and a great wreath was hung on the door.[1058] The purification of the flocks apparently consisted in driving them over burning heaps of grass, pine-wood, laurel, and branches of the male olive-tree.[1059] Certainly at some time of [Sidenote: The flocks purified by being driven through fire.] the day the sheep were compelled to scamper over a fire.[1060] Moreover, the bleating flocks were touched with burning sulphur and fumigated with its blue smoke.[1061] Then the shepherd offered to Pales baskets of millet, cakes of millet, and pails of warm milk. Next he prayed to the god that he would guard the fold from the evil powers, including probably witchcraft;[1062] that the flocks, the men, and the dogs might be hale and free from disease; that the sheep might not fall a prey to wolves; that grass and leaves might abound; that water might be plentiful; that the udders of the dams might be full of milk; that the rams might be lusty, and the ewes prolific; that many lambs might be born; and that there might be much wool at shearing.[1063] This prayer the shepherd had to repeat four times, looking to the east; then he washed his hands in the morning dew. After that he drank a bowl of milk and wine, and, warmed with the liquor, leaped ever burning heaps of crackling straw. This practice of jumping over a straw fire would seem to have been a principal part of the ceremonies: at least it struck the ancients themselves, for they often refer to it.[1064]

[Sidenote: The shepherd’s prayer.] The shepherd’s prayer at the Parilia is instructive, because it gives us in short a view of the chief wants of [Sidenote: The shepherd has to propitiate the tree-spirits and water-spirits.] the pastoral life. The supplication for grass and leaves and water reminds us that the herdsman no less than the husbandman depends ultimately on vegetation and rain; so that the same divine powers which cover the fields of the one with yellow corn may be conceived to carpet the meadows of the other with green grass, and to diversify them with pools and rivers for the refreshment of the thirsty cattle. And it is to be borne in mind that in countries where grass is less plentiful than under the rainy skies of northern Europe, sheep, goats, and cattle still subsist in great measure on the leaves and juicy twigs of trees.[1065] Hence in these lands the pious shepherd and goatherd cannot afford to ignore or to offend the tree-spirits, on whose favour and bounty his flocks are dependent for much of their fodder. Indeed, at the Parilia the shepherd made elaborate excuses to these divine beings for any trespass he might unwittingly have committed on their hallowed domain by entering a sacred grove, sitting in the shadow of a holy tree, or lopping leafy branches from it with which to feed a sickly sheep.[1066] In like manner he craved pardon of the water-nymphs, if the hoofs of his cattle had stirred up the mud in their clear pools; and he implored Pales to intercede for him with the divinities of springs “and the gods dispersed through every woodland glade.”[1067]

[Sidenote: The Parilia was perhaps the time when the flocks and herds were turned out for the first time in spring to graze in the open.] The Parilia was generally considered to be the best time for coupling the rams and the ewes;[1068] and it has been suggested that it was also the season when the flocks and herds, after being folded and stalled throughout the winter, were turned out for the first time to pasture in spring.[1069] The occasion is an anxious one for the shepherd, especially in countries which are infested with wolves, as ancient Italy was.[1070] Accordingly the Italian shepherd propitiated Pales with a slaughtered victim before he drove his flocks afield in spring;[1071] but it is doubtful whether this sacrifice formed part of the Parilia. None of the ancient authors who expressly describe the Parilia mention the slaughter of a victim; and in Plutarch’s day a tradition ran that of old no blood was shed at the festival.[1072] But such a tradition seems to point to a contrary practice in after-times. In the absence of decisive evidence the question must be left open; but modern analogy, as we shall see, strongly supports the opinion that immediately at the close of the Parilia the flocks and herds were driven out to graze in the open pastures for the first time after their long winter confinement. On this view a special significance is seen to attach to some of the features of the festival, such as the prayer for protection against the wolf; for the brute could hardly do the sheep and kine much harm so long as they were safely pent within the walls of the sheepcote and the cattle-stall.

[Sidenote: The Roman kings had perhaps to discharge some important religious function at the Parilia.] As the Parilia is said to have been celebrated by Romulus, who sacrificed to the gods and caused the people to purify themselves by leaping over flames,[1073] some scholars have inferred that it was customary for the king, and afterwards for his successor, the chief pontiff, or the King of the Sacred Rites, to offer sacrifices for the people at the Parilia.[1074] The inference is reasonable and receives some confirmation, as we shall see presently, from the analogy of modern custom. Further, the tradition that Numa was born on the day of the Parilia may be thought to point in the same way, since it is most naturally explicable on the hypothesis that the king had to discharge some important function at the festival. Still, it must be confessed that the positive evidence for connecting the Roman kings with the celebration of the twenty-first of April is slight and dubious.

[Sidenote: The Parilia intended to ensure the welfare of the cattle and to guard them against witches and wolves.] On the whole the festival of the Parilia, which probably fell at or near the time of turning out the cattle to pasture in spring, was designed to ensure their welfare and increase, and to guard them from the insidious machinations or the open attacks of their various enemies, among whom witches and wolves were perhaps the most dreaded.

[Sidenote: A celebration of the same sort is still held in eastern Europe on the twenty-third of April, the festival of St. George, the patron saint of cattle, horses, and wolves.] Now it can hardly be a mere coincidence that down to modern times a great popular festival of this sort has been celebrated only two days later by the herdsmen and shepherds of eastern Europe, who still cherish a profound belief in witchcraft, and still fear, with far better reason, the raids of wolves on their flocks and herds. The festival falls on the twenty-third of April and is dedicated to St. George, the patron saint of cattle, horses, and wolves. The Esthonians say that on St. George’s morning the wolf gets a ring round his snout and a halter about his neck, whereby he is rendered less dangerous till Michaelmas. But if the day should chance to be a Friday at full moon, or if before the day came round any person should have been so rash as to thump the dirty linen in the wash-tub with two beetles, the cattle will run a serious risk of being devoured by wolves. Many are the precautions taken by the anxious Esthonians [Sidenote: Precautions taken by the Esthonians against wolves and witches on St. George’s Day.] on this day to guard their herds from the ravening beasts. Thus some people gather wolf’s dung on the preceding night, burn it, and fumigate the cattle with it in the morning. Or they collect bones from the pastures and burn them at a cross-road, which serves as a charm against sickness, sorcery, and demons quite as well as against wolves. Others smoke the cattle with asa foetida or sulphur to protect them against witchcraft and noxious exhalations. They think, too, that if you sew stitches on St. George’s morning the cubs of the wolves will be blind, no doubt because their eyes are sewed up by the needle and thread. In order to forecast the fate of their herds the peasants put eggs or a sharp weapon, such as an axe or a scythe, before the doors of the stalls, and the animal which crushes an egg or wounds itself will surely be rent by a wolf or will perish in some other fashion before the year is out. So certain is its fate that many a man prefers to slaughter the doomed beast out of hand for the sake of saving at least the beef.

[Sidenote: The Esthonians generally drive their cattle out to pasture for the first time on St. George’s Day.] As a rule the Esthonians drive their cattle out to pasture for the first time on St. George’s Day, and the herdsman’s duties begin from then. If, however, the herds should have been sent out to graze before that day, the boys who look after them must eat neither flesh nor butter while they are on duty; else the wolves will destroy many sheep, and the cream will not turn to butter in the churn. Further, the boys may not kindle a fire in the wood, or the wolf’s tooth would be fiery and he would bite viciously. By St. George’s Day, the twenty-third of April, there is commonly fresh grass in the meadows. But even if the spring should be late and the cattle should have to return to their stalls hungrier than they went forth, many Esthonian farmers insist on turning out the poor beasts on St. George’s Day in order that the saint may guard them against his creatures the wolves. On this morning the farmer treats the herdsman to a dram of brandy, and gives him two copper kopecks as “tail-money” for every cow in the herd. This money the giver first passes thrice round his head and then lays it on the dunghill; for if the herdsman took it from his hand, it would in some way injure the herd. Were this ceremony omitted, the wolves would prove very destructive, because they had not been appeased on St. George’s Day. After receiving the “tail-money” some herdsmen are wont to collect the herd on the village common. Here they set up their crook in the ground, place their hat on it, and walk thrice round the cattle, muttering spells or the Lord’s Prayer as they do so. The pastoral crook should be cut from the rowan or mountain-ash and consecrated by a wise man, who carves mystic signs on it. Sometimes the upper end of the crook is hollowed out and filled with quicksilver and asa foetida, the aperture being stopped up with resin. Some Esthonians cut a cross with a scythe under the door through which the herd is to be driven, and fill the furrows of the cross with salt to prevent certain evil beings from harming the cattle. Further, it is an almost universal custom in Esthonia not to hang bells on the necks of the kine till St. George’s Day; the few who can give a reason for the rule say that the chiming of the bells before that season would attract the wild beasts.[1075]

[Sidenote: Sacrifices for horses offered on St. George’s Day by the Esthonians of Dago.] In the island of Dago down to the early part of the nineteenth century there were certain holy trees from which no one dared to break a bough; in spite of the lack of wood in the island the fallen branches were allowed to rot in heaps on the ground. Under such trees the Esthonians used to offer sacrifices on St. George’s Day for the safety and welfare of their horses. The offerings, which consist of an egg, a piece of money, and a bunch of horse-hair tied up with a red thread, were buried in the earth.[1076] The custom is interesting because it exhibits St. George in the two-fold character of a patron of horses and of trees. In the latter capacity he has already met us more than once under the name of Green George.[1077]

[Sidenote: St. George as the patron of wolves and cattle in Russia; the herds are driven out to pasture for the first time on his day.] In Russia the saint is known as Yegory or Yury, and here, as in Esthonia, he is a patron of wolves as well as of flocks and herds. Many legends speak of the connexion which exists between St. George and the wolf. In Little Russia the beast is known as “St. George’s Dog,” and the carcases of sheep which wolves have killed are not eaten, it being held that they have been made over by divine command to the beasts of the field.[1078] The festival of St. George on the twenty-third of April has a national as well as an ecclesiastical character in Russia, and the mythical features of the songs which are devoted to the day prove that the saint has supplanted some old Slavonian deity who used to be honoured at this season in heathen times. It is not as a slayer of dragons and a champion of forlorn damsels that St. George figures in these songs, but as a patron of farmers and herdsmen who preserves cattle from harm, and on whose day accordingly the flocks and herds are driven out to browse the fresh pastures for the first time after their confinement through the long Russian winter. “What the wolf holds in its teeth, that Yegory has given,” is a proverb which shews how completely he is thought to rule over the fold and the stall. Here is one of the songs:—

“_We have gone around the field, We have called Yegory ... ‘O thou, our brave Yegory, Save our cattle, In the field, and beyond the field, In the forest, and beyond the forest, Under the bright moon, Under the red sun, From the rapacious wolf, From the cruel bear, From the cunning beast.’_”

A White-Russian song represents St. George as opening with golden keys, probably the sunbeams, the soil which has been frost-bound all the winter:—

“_Holy Jury, the divine envoy, Has gone to God, And having taken the golden keys, Has unlocked the moist earth, Having scattered the clinging dew Over White-Russia and all the world._”

In Moravia they “meet the Spring” with a song in which they ask Green Thursday, that is, the day before Good Friday, what he has done with the keys, and he answers: “I gave them to St. George. St. George arose and unlocked the earth, so that the grass grew—the green grass.” In White Russia it is customary on St. George’s Day to drive the cattle afield through the morning dew, and in Little Russia and Bulgaria young folk go out early and roll themselves in it.[1079] In the Smolensk Government on this day the cattle are driven out first to the rye-fields and then to the pastures. A religious service is held in the stalls before the departure of the herd and afterwards in the field, where the stool which supported the holy picture is allowed to stand for several weeks till the next procession with the pictures of the saints takes place. St. George’s Day in this government is the herdsmen’s festival, and it is the term from which their engagements are dated.[1080] And in the Smolensk Government, when the herds are being sent out to graze on St. George’s Day, the following spell is uttered:—

“Deaf man, deaf man, dost thou hear us?” “I hear not.” “God grant that the wolf may not hear our cattle!” “Cripple, cripple, canst thou catch us?” “I cannot catch.” “God grant that the wolf may not catch our cattle!” “Blind man, blind man, dost thou see us?” “I see not.” “God grant that the wolf may not see our cattle!”[1081]

[Sidenote: In Russia witches try to steal the milk of the cattle on the eve of St. George.] But in the opinion of the Russian peasant wolves are not the only foes of cattle at this season. On the eve of St. George’s Day, as well as on the night before Whitsunday and on Midsummer Eve, witches go out naked in the dark and cut chips from the doors and gates of farmyards. These they boil in a milk-pail, and thus charm away the milk from the farms. Hence careful housewives examine their doors and smear mud in any fresh gashes they may find in them, which frustrates the knavish tricks of the milk-stealing witch. Not to be baffled, however, the witches climb the wooden crosses by the wayside and chip splinters from them, or lay their hands on stray wooden wedges. These they stick into a post in the cattle-shed and squeeze them with their hands till milk flows from them as freely as from the dugs of a cow. At this time also wicked people turn themselves by magic art into dogs and black cats, and in that disguise they suck the milk of cows, mares, and ewes, while they slaughter the bulls, horses, and rams.[1082]

[Sidenote: St. George’s Day among the Ruthenians.] The Ruthenians of Bukowina and Galicia believe that at midnight before St. George’s Day (the twenty-third of April) the witches come in bands of twelve to the hills at the boundaries of the villages and there dance and play with fire. Moreover, they cull on the mountains the herbs they need for their infernal enchantments. Like the Esthonians and the Russians, the Ruthenians drive their cattle out to pasture for the first time on St. George’s Day; hence during the preceding night the witches are very busy casting their spells on the cows; and the farmer is at great pains to defeat their fell purpose. With this intent many people catch a snake, skin it, and fumigate the cows with the skin on the eve of the saint’s day. To rub the udders and horns of the cows with serpent’s fat is equally effective. Others strew meal about the animals, saying, “Not till thou hast gathered up this meal, shalt thou take the milk from my cow So-and-so.” Further, sods of turf, with thorn-branches stuck in them, are laid on the gate-posts; and crosses are painted with tar on the doors. These precautions keep the witches from the cows. If, however, a beast should after all be bewitched, the farmer’s wife drags a rope about in the dew on the morning of St. George’s Day. Then she chops it up small, mixes salt with it, and scatters the bits among the cow’s fodder. No sooner has the afflicted animal partaken of this compound than the spell is broken.[1083]

[Sidenote: St. George’s Day among the Huzuls of the Carpathians.] The Huzuls of the Carpathian Mountains believe that when a cow gives milk tinged with blood, or no milk at all, a witch is the cause of it. These maleficent beings play their pranks especially on the eve of St. George’s Day and on Midsummer Eve, but they are most dangerous at the former season, for that night they and the foul fiends hold their greatest gathering or sabbath. To steal the cows’ milk they resort to various devices. Sometimes they run about in the shape of dogs and smell the cows’ udders. Sometimes they rub the udders of their own cows with milk taken from a neighbour’s kine; then their own cows yield abundant milk, but the udders of the neighbour’s cows shrivel up or give only blood. Others again make a wooden cow on the spot where the real cows are generally milked, taking care to stick into the ground the knife they used in carving the image. Then the wooden cow yields the witch all the milk of the cattle which are commonly milked there, while the owner of the beasts gets nothing but blood from them.

[Sidenote: Precautions taken by the Huzuls against the witches who try to steal milk on the eve of St. George.] Hence the Huzuls take steps to guard their cows from the machinations of witches at this season. For this purpose they kindle a great fire before the house on the eve of St. George’s Day, using as fuel the dung which has accumulated during the winter. Also they place on the gate-posts clods in which are stuck the branches consecrated on Palm Sunday or boughs of the silver poplar, the wood of which is deemed especially efficacious in banning fiends. Moreover, they make crosses on the doors, sprinkle the cows with mud, and fumigate them with incense or the skin of a snake. To tie red woollen threads round the necks or tails of the animals is also a safeguard against witchcraft. And in June, when the snow has melted and the cattle are led to the high mountain pastures, the herds have no sooner reached their summer quarters than the herdsman makes “living fire” by the friction of wood and drives the animals over the ashes in order to protect them against witches and other powers of evil. The fire thus kindled is kept constantly burning in the herdsman’s hut till with the chill of autumn the time comes to drive the herds down the mountains again. If the fire went out in the interval, it would be an ill omen for the owner of the pastures.[1084]

[Sidenote: Sacrifice for horses in Silesia on St. George’s Day.] In some parts of Silesia the might of the witches is believed to be at the highest pitch on St. George’s Day. The people deem the saint very powerful in the matter of cattle-breeding and especially of horse-breeding. At the Polish village of Ostroppa, not far from Gleiwitz, a sacrifice for horses used to be offered at the little village church. It has been described by an eye-witness. Peasants on horseback streamed to the spot from all the neighbouring villages, not with the staid and solemn pace of pilgrims, but with the noise and clatter of merrymakers hastening to a revel. The sorry image of the saint, carved in wood and about an ell high, stood in the churchyard on a table covered with a white cloth. It represented him seated on horseback and spearing the dragon. Beside it were two vessels to receive offerings of money and eggs respectively. As each farmer galloped up, he dismounted, led his horse by the bridle, knelt before the image of the saint, and prayed. After that he made his offering of money or eggs, according to his means, in the name of his horse. Then he led the beast round the church and churchyard, tethered it, and went into the church to hear mass and a sermon. Having thus paid his devotions to the saint, every man leaped into the saddle and made for the nearest public-house as fast as his horse could lay legs to the ground.[1085]

[Sidenote: Festival of St. George, as the patron of horses, at Ertringen in Bavaria.] At Ertringen, in South Bavaria, there is a chapel of St. George, where a festival of the saint used to be held on April the twenty-fourth down to the beginning of the nineteenth century. From the whole neighbourhood people streamed thither on horseback and in waggons to take part in the ceremony. More than fourteen hundred riders are said to have been present on one occasion. The foundation of the chapel was attributed to the monastery of Holy Cross Vale (Heiligkreuztal), and the abbot and prior with their suite attended the festival in state mounted on white horses. A burgher of Ertringen had to ride as patron in the costume of St. George, whom he represented. He alone bestrode a fiery stallion. After the celebration of high mass the horses were blessed at the chapel. Then the procession of men on horseback moved round the common lands, winding up at the parish church, where it broke up.[1086] In many villages near Freiburg in Baden St. George is the patron of horses, and in some parts of Baden the saint’s day (April the twenty-third) is the season when cattle are driven out to pasture for the first time in spring.[1087]

[Sidenote: St. George’s Day among the Saxons and Roumanians of Transylvania.] The Saxons of Transylvania think that on the eve of St. George’s Day the witches ride on the backs of the cows into the farmyard, if branches of wild rosebushes or other thorny shrubs are not stuck over the gate of the yard to keep them out.[1088] Beliefs and practices of this sort are shared by the Roumanians of Transylvania. They hold that on St. George’s Day the witches keep their sabbath in sequestered spots, such as woodland glades, deserted farm-steadings, and the like. In Walachia green sods are laid on the window-sills and on the lintels of the doors to avert the uncanny crew. But in Transylvania the Roumanians, not content with setting a thorn-bush in the doorway of the house, keep watch and ward all night beside the cattle or elsewhere, to catch the witches who are at work stealing the milk from the cows. Here, as elsewhere, the day is above all the herdsman’s festival. It marks the beginning of spring; the shepherds are preparing to start for the distant pastures, and they listen with all their ears to some wiseacre who tells them how, if the milk should fail in the udders of the sheep, they have only to thrash the shepherd’s pouch, and every stroke will fall on the witch who is pumping the lost milk into her pails.[1089]

[Sidenote: St. George’s Day the herdsman’s festival among the Walachians.] The Walachians look on St. George’s Day as very holy; for they are mainly a pastoral folk, and St. George is the patron of herds and herdsmen. On that day also, as well as on the day before and the day after, the Walachian numbers his herd, beginning at one and counting continuously up to the total. This he never does at any other time of the year. On this day, too, he milks his sheep for the first time into vessels which have been carefully scoured and are wreathed with flowers. Then too a cake of white meal is baked in the shape of a ring, and is rolled on the ground in sight of the herd; and from the length of its course omens are drawn as to the good or bad luck of the cattle in their summer pastures. If the herd is owned by several men, they afterwards lay hold of the ring, and break it among them, and the one who gets the largest piece will have the best luck. The milk is made into a cheese which is divided; and the pieces of the cake are given to the shepherds. In like manner the wreaths of flowers which crowned the pails are thrown into the water, and from the way in which they float down-stream the shepherds presage good or evil fortune.[1090]

[Sidenote: St. George’s Day among the Bulgarians and South Slavs.] The Bulgarians seem to share the belief that cattle are especially exposed to the machinations of witches at this season, for it is a rule with them not to give away milk, butter, or cheese on the eve of St. George’s Day; to do so, they say, would be to give away the profit of the milch kine.[1091] They rise very early on the morning of this day, and wash themselves in the dew, that they may be healthy.[1092] It is said, too, that a regular sacrifice is still offered on St. George’s Day in Bulgaria. An old man kills a ram, while girls spread grass on which the blood is poured forth.[1093] The intention of the sacrifice may be to make the herbage grow abundantly in the pastures. Amongst the South Slavs the twenty-third of April, St. George’s Day, is the chief festival of the spring. The herdsman thinks that if his cattle are well on that day they will thrive throughout the year. As we have already seen,[1094] he crowns the horns of his cows with garlands of flowers to guard them against witchcraft, and in the evening the garlands are hung on the doors of the stalls, where they remain until the next St. George’s Day. Early in the morning of that day, when the herdsman drives the cows from the byres, the housewife takes salt in one hand and a potsherd with glowing coals in the other. She offers the salt to the cow, and the beast must step over the smouldering coals, on which various kinds of roses are smoking. This deprives the witches of all power to harm the cow. On the eve or the morning of the day old women cut thistles and fasten them to the doors and gates of the farm; and they make crosses with cow’s dung on the doors of the byres to ward off the witches. Many knock great nails into the doors, which is thought to be a surer preventive even than thistles. In certain districts the people cut thistles before sunrise and put some on each other’s heads, some on the fences, the windows, the doors, and some in the shape of wreaths round the necks of the cows, in order that the witches may be powerless to harm man and beast, house and homestead, throughout the year. If, nevertheless, a witch should contrive to steal through the garden fence and into the byre, it is all over with the cows. A good housewife will also go round her house and cattle-stalls early in the morning of the fateful day and sprinkle them with holy water. Another approved means of driving the witches away is furnished by the froth which is shot from the spokes of a revolving mill-wheel; for common-sense tells us that just as the froth flies from the wheel, so the witches will fly from our house, if only we apply the remedy in the right way. And the right way is this. On the eve of St. George’s Day you must send a child to fetch froth from the mill, three stones from three cross-roads, three twigs of a blackberry bush, three sprigs of beech, and three shoots of a wild vine. Then you insert the plants in a buttered roll, put the stones in the fire, boil the froth, toast the buttered roll over the glowing stones, and speak these words: “The blackberry twigs gather together, the beeches pull together, but the foam from the wheel shakes all evil away.” Do this, and you may take my word for it that no witch will be able to charm away the milk from your cows.[1095]

[Sidenote: Precautions of the same sort are taken against wolves and witches whenever the cattle are driven out to pasture for the first time in spring.] Thus on the whole the festival of St. George at the present day, like the Parilia of ancient Italy, is a ceremony intended to guard the cattle against their real and their imaginary foes, the wolves and the witches, at the critical season when the flocks and herds are driven out to pasture for the first time in spring. Precautions of the same sort are naturally taken by the superstitious herdsman whenever, the winter being over, he turns his herds out into the open for the first time, whether it be on St. George’s Day or not. Thus in Prussia and Lithuania, when the momentous morning broke, the herd-boy ran from house to house in the village, knocked at the windows, and cried: “Put out the fire, spin not, reel not, but drive the cattle out!” Meantime the herdsman had fetched sand from the church, which he strewed on the road by which the beasts must go from the farmyard. At the same time he laid a woodcutter’s axe in every doorway, with the sharp edge outwards, over which the cows had to step. Then he walked in front of them, speaking never a word, and paying no heed to the herd, which was kept together by the herd-boys alone. His thoughts were occupied by higher things, for he was busy making crosses, blessing the cattle, and murmuring prayers, till the pastures were reached. The axe in the doorway signified that the wolf should flee from the herd as from the sharp edge of the axe: the sand from the church betokened that the cattle should not disperse and wander in the meadows, but should keep as close together as people in church.[1096]

[Sidenote: Swedish observances at turning out the cattle to graze after their winter confinement.] In Sweden the cattle are confined almost wholly to their stalls during the long and dreary northern winter; and the first day in spring on which they are turned out into the forest to graze has been from time immemorial a great popular festival. The time of its celebration depends more or less on the mildness or severity of the season. For the most part it takes place about the middle of May. On the preceding evening bonfires are kindled everywhere in the forest, because so far as their flickering light extends the cattle will be safe from the attacks of wild beasts throughout the summer. For the same reason people go about the woods that night firing guns, blowing horns, and making all kinds of discordant noises. The mode of celebrating the festival, which in some places is called the feast of flowers, varies somewhat in different provinces. In Dalsland the cattle are driven home that day from pasture at noon instead of at evening. Early in the morning the herd-boy repairs with the herd to the forest, where he decks their horns with wreaths of flowers and provides himself with a wand of the rowan or mountain-ash. During his absence the girls pluck flowers, weave them into a garland, and hang it on the gate through which the cattle must pass on their return from the forest. When they come back, the herd-boy takes the garland from the gate, fastens it to the top of his wand, and marches with it at the head of his beasts to the hamlet. Afterwards the wand with the garland on it is set up on the muck-heap, where it remains all the summer. The intention of these ceremonies is not said, but on the analogy of the preceding customs we may conjecture that both the flowers and the rowan-wand are supposed to guard the cattle against witchcraft. A little later in the season, when the grass is well grown in the forest, most of the cattle are sent away to the säter, or summer pastures, of which every hamlet commonly has one or more. These are clearings in the woods, and may be many miles distant from the village. In Dalecarlia the departure usually takes place in the first week of June. It is a great event for the pastoral folk. An instinctive longing seems to awaken both in the people and the beasts. The preparations of the women are accompanied by the bleating of the sheep and goats and the lowing of the cattle, which make incessant efforts to break through the pens near the house where they are shut up. Two or more girls, according to the size of the herd, attend the cattle on their migration and stay with them all the summer. Every animal as it goes forth, whether cow, sheep, or goat, is marked on the brow with a cross by means of a tar-brush in order to protect it against evil spirits. But more dangerous foes lie in wait for the cattle in the distant pastures, where bears and wolves not uncommonly rush forth on them from the woods. On such occasions the herd-girls often display the utmost gallantry, belabouring the ferocious beasts with sticks, and risking their own lives in defence of the herds.[1097]

[Sidenote: These modern parallels throw light on some features of the Parilia.] The foregoing customs, practised down to modern times by shepherds and herdsmen with a full sense of their meaning, throw light on some features of the Parilia which might otherwise remain obscure. They seem to shew that when the Italian shepherd hung green boughs on his folds, and garlands on his doors, he did so in order to keep the witches from the ewes; and that in fumigating his flocks with sulphur and driving them over a fire of straw he sought to interpose a fiery barrier between them and the powers of evil, whether these were conceived as witches or mischievous spirits.

[Sidenote: Green George a personification of a spirit of trees or of vegetation in general.] But St. George is more than a patron of cattle. The mummer who dresses up in green boughs on the saint’s day and goes by the name of Green George[1098] clearly personifies the saint himself, and such a disguise is appropriate only to a spirit of trees or of vegetation in general. As if to make this quite clear, the Slavs of Carinthia carry a tree decked with flowers in the procession in which Green George figures; and the ceremonies in which the leaf-clad masker takes a part plainly indicate that he is thought to stand in intimate connexion with rain as well as with cattle. This counterpart of our Jack in the Green is known in some parts of Russia, and the Slovenes call him Green George. Dressed in leaves and flowers, he appears in public on St. George’s Day carrying a lighted torch in one hand and a pie in the other. Thus arrayed he goes out to the cornfields, followed by girls, who sing appropriate songs. A circle of brushwood is then lighted, and the pie is set in the middle of it. All who share in the ceremony sit down around the fire, and the pie is divided among them. The observance has perhaps a bearing on the cattle as well as on the cornfields, for in some parts of Russia when the herds go out to graze for the first time in spring a pie baked in the form of a sheep is cut up by the chief herdsman, and the bits are kept as a cure for the ills to which sheep are subject.[1099]

[Sidenote: “Ringing out the grass” on St. George’s Day.] At Schwaz, an old Tyrolese town in the lower valley of the Inn, young lads assemble on St. George’s Day, which is here the twenty-fourth of April, and having provided themselves with bells, both large and small, they go in procession ringing them to the various farms of the neighbourhood, where they are welcomed and given milk to drink. These processions, which take place in other parts of the Tyrol also, go by the name of “ringing out the grass” (Grasausläuten), and it is believed that wherever the bell-ringers come, there the grass grows and the crops will be abundant. This beneficial effect appears to be ascribed to the power of the bells to disperse the evil spirits, which are thought to be rampant on St. George’s Day. For the same purpose of averting demoniac influence at this time, people in Salzburg and the neighbouring districts of Upper Austria go in procession round the fields and stick palm branches or small crosses in them; also they fasten branches of the Prunus Padus, L., at the windows of the houses and cattle-stalls.[1100] In some parts of Germany the farmer looks to the height of his corn on St. George’s Day, expecting that it should then be high enough to hide a crow.[1101]

[Sidenote: St. George supposed to get barren women with child.] Even when we have said that St. George of Eastern Europe represents an old heathen deity of sheep, cattle, horses, wolves, vegetation, and rain, we have not exhausted all the provinces over which he is supposed to bear sway. According to an opinion which appears to be widely spread, he has the power of blessing barren women with offspring. This belief is clearly at the root of the South Slavonian custom, described above, whereby a childless woman hopes to become a mother by wearing a shirt which has hung all night on a fruitful tree on St. George’s Eve.[1102] Similarly, a Bulgarian wife who desires to have a child will strike off a serpent’s head on St. George’s Day, put a bean in its mouth, and lay the head in a hollow tree or bury it in the earth at a spot so far from the village that the crowing of the cocks cannot be heard there. If the bean buds, her wishes will be granted.[1103]

[Sidenote: Love-charms practised among the Slavs on St. George’s Day.] It is natural to suppose that a saint who can bestow offspring can also bring fond lovers together. Hence among the Slavs, with whom St. George is so popular, his day is one of the seasons at which youths and maidens resort to charms and divination in order to win or discover the affections of the other sex. Thus, to take examples, a Bohemian way of gaining a girl’s love is as follows. You catch a frog on St. George’s Day, wrap it in a white cloth, and put it in an ant-hill after sunset or about midnight. The creature croaks terribly while the ants are gnawing the flesh from its bones. When silence reigns again, you will find nothing left of the frog but one little bone in the shape of a hook and another little bone in the shape of a shovel. Take the hook-shaped bone, go to the girl of your choice, and hook her dress with the bone, and she will fall over head and ears in love with you. If you afterwards tire of her, you have only to touch her with the shovel-shaped bone, and her affection will vanish as quickly as it came.[1104] Again, at Ceklinj, in Crnagora, maidens go at break of day on St. George’s morning to a well to draw water, and look down into its dark depth till tears fill their eyes and they fancy they see in the water the image of their future husband.[1105] At Krajina, in Servia, girls who would pry into the book of fate gather flowers in the meadows on the eve of St. George, make them up into nosegays, and give to the nosegays the names of the various lads whose hearts they would win. Late at night they place the flowers by stealth under the open sky, on the roof or elsewhere, and leave them there till daybreak. The lad on whose nosegay most dew has fallen will love the girl most truly throughout the year. Sometimes mischievous young men secretly watch these doings, and steal the bunches of flowers, which makes sore hearts among the girls.[1106] Once more, in wooded districts of Bohemia a Czech maiden will sometimes go out on St. George’s Eve into an oak or beech forest and catch a young wild pigeon. It may be a ring-dove or a wood-pigeon, but it must always be a male. She takes the bird home with her, and covers it with a sieve or shuts it up in a box that nobody may know what she is about. Having kept and fed it till it can fly, she rises very early in the morning, while the household is still asleep, and goes with the dove to the hearth. Here she presses the bird thrice to her bare breast, above her heart, and then lets it fly away up the chimney, while she says:—

“_Out of the chimney, dove, Fly, fly from here. Take me, dear Hans, my love, None, none so dear._

“_Fly to your rocks, fair dove, Fly to your lea. So may I get, my love, None, none but thee._”[1107]

[Sidenote: St. George in Syria esteemed a giver of offspring to childless women.] In the East, also, St. George is reputed to be a giver of offspring to barren women, and in this character he is revered by Moslems as well as Christians. His shrines may be found in all parts of Syria; more places are associated with him than with any other saint in the calendar. The most famous of his sanctuaries is at Kalat el Hosn, in Northern Syria. Childless women of all sects resort to it in order that the saint may remove their reproach. Some people shrug their shoulders when the shrine is mentioned in this connexion. Yet many Mohammedan women who desired offspring used to repair to it with the full consent of their husbands. Nowadays the true character of the place is beginning to be perceived, and many Moslems have forbidden their wives to visit it.[1108] Such beliefs and practices [Sidenote: The Syrian St. George may represent Tammuz.] lend some colour to the theory that in the East the saint has taken the place of Tammuz or Adonis.[1109]

[Sidenote: In Europe St. George seems to have displaced an old Aryan god of the spring, such as the Lithuanian Pergrubius.] But we cannot suppose that the worship of Tammuz has been transplanted to Europe and struck its roots deep among the Slavs and other peoples in the eastern part of our continent. Rather amongst them we must look for a native Aryan deity who now masquerades in the costume of the Cappadocian saint and martyr St. George. Perhaps we may find him in the Pergrubius of the Lithuanians, a people who retained their heathen religion later than any other branch of the Aryan stock in Europe. This Pergrubius is described as “the god of the spring,” as “he who makes leaves and grass to grow,” or more fully as “the god of flowers, plants, and all buds.” On St. George’s Day, the twenty-third of April, the heathen Prussians and Lithuanians offered a sacrifice to Pergrubius. A priest, who bore the title of Wurschait, held in his hand a mug of beer, while he thus addressed the deity: “Thou drivest away the winter; thou bringest back the pleasant spring. By thee the fields and gardens are green, by thee the groves and the woods put forth leaves.” According to another version, the prayer ran as follows: “Thou drivest the winter away, and givest in all lands leaves and grass. We pray thee that thou wouldst make our corn to grow and wouldst put down all weeds.” After praying thus, the priest drank the beer, holding the mug with his teeth, but not touching it with his hands. Then without handling it he threw the mug backward over his head. Afterwards it was picked up and filled again, and all present drank out of it. They also sang a hymn in praise of Pergrubius, and then spent the whole day in feasting and dancing.[1110] Thus it appears that Pergrubius was a Lithuanian god of the spring, who caused the grass and the corn to grow and the trees to burst into leaf. In this he resembles Green George, the embodiment of the fresh vegetation of spring, whose leaf-clad representative still plays his pranks on the very same day in some parts of Eastern Europe. Nothing, indeed, is said of the relation of Pergrubius to cattle, and so far the analogy between him and St. George breaks down. But our accounts of the old Lithuanian mythology are few and scanty; if we knew more about Pergrubius we might find that as a god or personification of spring he, like St. George, was believed to exert all the quickening powers of that genial season—in other words, that his beneficent activity was not confined to clothing the bare earth with verdure, but extended to the care of the teeming flocks and herds, as well as to the propagation of mankind. Certainly it is not easy to draw a sharp line of division between the god who attends to cattle and the god who provides the food on which they subsist.

[Sidenote: The Roman equivalent of St. George was Pales, who may have been personated by the king at the Parilia.] Thus Pergrubius may perhaps have been the northern equivalent of the pastoral god Pales, who was worshipped by the Romans only two days earlier at the spring festival of the Parilia. It will be remembered that the Roman shepherds prayed to Pales for grass and leaves, the very things which it was the part of Pergrubius to supply. Is it too bold to conjecture that in rural districts of Italy Pales may have been personated by a leaf-clad man, and that in the early age of Rome the duty of thus representing the god may have been one of the sacred functions of the king? The conjecture at least suggests a reason for the tradition that Numa, the typical priestly king of Rome, was born on the day of the Parilia.

Footnote 1045:

Varro, Rerum rusticarum, ii. 1. 9 sq. “Romanorum vero populum a pastoribus esse ortum quis non dicit?” etc. Amongst other arguments in favour of this view Varro refers to the Roman personal names derived from cattle, both large and small, such as Porcius, “pig-man,” Ovinius, “sheep-man,” Caprilius, “goat-man,” Equitius, “horse-man,” Taurius, “bull-man,” and so forth. On the importance of cattle and milk among the ancient Aryans see O. Schrader, Reallexikon der indogermanischen Altertumskunde (Strasburg, 1901), pp. 541 sq., 689 sqq., 913 sqq.

Footnote 1046:

Above, vol. i. p. 366.

Footnote 1047:

As to the foundation of Rome on this date see Varro, Rerum rusticarum, ii. 1. 9; Cicero, De divinatione, ii. 47. 98; Festus, s.v. “Parilibus,” p. 236, ed. C. O. Müller; Pliny, Nat. Hist. xviii. 247; Propertius, v. 4. 73 sq.; Ovid, Fasti, iv. 801-806; id., Metam. xiv. 774 sq.; Velleius Paterculus, i. 8. 4; Eutropius, i. 1; Solinus, i. 18; Censorinus, De die natali, xxi. 6; Probus on Virgil, Georg. iii. 1; Schol. Veronens. on Virgil, l.c.; Dionysius Halicarnas, Ant. Rom. i. 88; Plutarch, Romulus, 12; Dio Cassius, xliii. 42; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 3; Joannes Lydus, De mensibus, i. 14, iv. 50. As to the birth of Numa, see Plutarch, Numa, 3. The festival is variously called Parilia and Palilia by ancient writers, but the form Parilia seems to be the better attested of the two. See G. Wissowa, s.v. “Pales,” in W. H. Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. und röm. Mythologie, iii. 1278.

Footnote 1048:

Dionysius of Halicarnassus (Ant. Rom. i. 88) hesitates between these two views. With truer historical insight Plutarch (Romulus, 12) holds that the rustic festival was older than the foundation of Rome.

Footnote 1049:

See, for example, vol. i. above, p. 32.

Footnote 1050:

For modern discussions of the Parilia, see L. Preller, Römische Mythologie, 3rd Ed., i. 413 sqq.; J. Marquardt, Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 207 sq.; W. Mannhardt, Antike Wald- und Feldkulte, pp. 309-317; W. Warde Fowler, Roman Festivals, pp. 79-85; G. Wissowa, s.v. “Pales,” in W. H. Roscher’s Lexikon der griech. u. röm. Mythologie, iii. 1276-1280; id., Religion und Kultus der Römer, pp. 165 sq.

Footnote 1051:

Cicero, De divinatione, ii. 47. 98; Ovid, Fasti, iv. 806; Calendar of Philocalus, quoted by W. Warde Fowler, op. cit. p. 79; Probus on Virgil, Georg. iii. 1; Plutarch, Romulus, 12; Zonaras, Annales, vii. 3.

Footnote 1052:

Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. i. 88.

Footnote 1053:

Festus, s.v. “Pales,” p. 222, ed. C. O. Müller; Dionysius Halic. l.c.

Footnote 1054:

Servius on Virgil, Georg. iii. 1. See also Arnobius, Adversus nationes, iii. 40; Martianus Capella, i. 50.

Footnote 1055:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 637-640, 731-734; Propertius, v. 1. 19 sq.

Footnote 1056:

See above, p. 229. As to the sacrifice of the horse in October see The Golden Bough, Second Edition, ii. 315 sqq.

Footnote 1057:

Tibullus, ii. 5. 91 sq.:—

“_Et fetus matrona dabit, natusque parenti Oscula comprensis auribus cripict._”

Footnote 1058:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 735-738. In his account of the festival Ovid mentions only shepherds and sheep; but since Pales was a god of cattle as well as of sheep (Arnobius, Adversus nationes, iii. 23), we may suppose that herds and herdsmen equally participated in it. Dionysius (l.c.) speaks of four-footed beasts in general.

Footnote 1059:

So Mr. W. Warde Fowler understands Ovid, Fasti, iv. 735-742.

Footnote 1060:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 805 sq.

Footnote 1061:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 739 sq.

Footnote 1062:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 747 sq.:—

“Consule, dic, pecori pariter pecorisque magistris: Effugiat stabulis noxa repulsa meis.”

With this sense of noxa compare id. vi. 129 sq., where it is said that buckthorn or hawthorn “tristes pellere posset a foribus noxas.”

Footnote 1063:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 763-774. The prayer that the wolves may be kept far from the fold is mentioned also by Tibullus (ii. 5. 88).

Footnote 1064:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 779-782; Tibullus, ii. 5. 89 sq.; Propertius, v. 1. 19, v. 4. 77 sq.; Persius, i. 72; Probus on Virgil, Georg. iii. 1.

Footnote 1065:

I owe this observation to F. A. Paley, on Ovid, Fasti, iv. 754. He refers to Virgil, Georg. ii. 435, Ecl. x. 30; Theocritus, xi. 73 sq.; to which may be added Virgil, Georg. iii. 300 sq., 320 sq.; Horace, Epist. i. 14. 28; Cato, De re rustica, 30; Columella, De re rustica, vii. 3. 21, xi. 2. 83 and 99-101. From these passages of Cato and Columella we learn that the Italian farmer fed his cattle on the leaves of the elm, the ash, the poplar, the oak, the evergreen oak, the fig, and the laurel.

Footnote 1066:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 749-754.

Footnote 1067:

Ovid, Fasti, iv. 757-760.

Footnote 1068:

Columella, De re rustica, vii. 3. 11. In this respect the practice of ancient Italian farmers would seem to have differed from that of modern English breeders. In a letter (dated 8th February 1908) my friend Professor W. Somerville of Oxford writes: “It is against all modern custom to arrange matters so that lambs are born five months after April 21, say the end of September.” And, again, in another letter (dated 16th February 1908) he writes to me: “The matter of coupling ewes and rams in the end of April is very perplexing. In this country it is only the Dorset breed of sheep that will ‘take’ the ram at this time of the year. In the case of other breeds the ewe will only take the ram in autumn, say from July to November, so that the lambs are born from January to May. We consider that lambs born late in the season, say May or June, never thrive well.”

Footnote 1069:

The suggestion was made by C. G. Heyne in his commentary on Tibullus, i. 5. 88.

Footnote 1070:

O. Keller, Thiere des classischen Alterthums (Innsbruck, 1887), pp. 158 sqq.

Footnote 1071:

Calpurnius, Bucol. v. 16-28.

Footnote 1072:

Plutarch, Romulus, 12.

Footnote 1073:

Dionysius Halicarnasensis, Ant. Rom. 1. 88.

Footnote 1074:

This is the view of J. Marquardt (Römische Staatsverwaltung, iii. 2nd Ed., 207), and Mr. W. Warde Fowler (Roman Festivals, p. 83, note 1).

Footnote 1075:

Boecler-Kreutzwald, Der Ehsten abergläubische Gebräuche, Weisen und Gewohnheiten, pp. 82-84, 116-118; F. J. Wiedemann, Aus dem inneren und äusseren Leben der Ehsten, pp. 332, 356-361; Holzmayer, “Osiliana,” Verhandlungen der gelehrten Estnischen Gesellschaft zu Dorpat, vii. (1872) p. 61.

Footnote 1076:

F. J. Wiedemann, op. cit. p. 413.

Footnote 1077:

See above, pp. 75 sq.

Footnote 1078:

W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-tales, pp. 344, 345.

Footnote 1079:

W. R. S. Ralston, Songs of the Russian People, pp. 229-231. In the island of Rhodes also it is customary for people to roll themselves on the grass for good luck on St. George’s Day. See Mary Hamilton, Greek Saints and their Festivals (Edinburgh and London, 1910), p. 166.

Footnote 1080:

Olga Bartels, “Aus dem Leben der weissrussischen Landbevölkerung,” Zeitschrift für Ethnologie, xxxv. (1903) p. 659.

Footnote 1081:

W. R. S. Ralston, op. cit. p. 389. French peasants of the Vosges Mountains believe that St. George shuts the mouths of wild beasts and prevents them from attacking the flocks which are placed under his protection (L. F. Sauvé, Le Folk-lore des Hautes-Vosges, p. 127).

Footnote 1082:

W. R. S. Ralston, op. cit. pp. 319 sq.

Footnote 1083:

R. F. Kaindl, “Zauberglaube bei den Rutenen in der Bukowina und Galizien,” Globus, lxi. (1892) p. 280.

Footnote 1084:

R. F. Kaindl, Die Huzulen (Vienna, 1894), pp. 62 sq., 78, 88 sq.; id., “Zauberglaube bei den Huzulen,” Globus, lxxvi. (1899) p. 233.

Footnote 1085:

P. Drechsler, Sitte, Brauch und Volksglaube in Schlesien, i. (Leipsic, 1903) pp. 106 sq. The authority quoted for the sacrifice is Tiede, Merkwürdigkeiten Schlesiens (1804), pp. 123 sq. It is not expressly said, but we may assume, that the sacrifice was offered on St. George’s Day.

Footnote 1086:

A. Birlinger, Aus Schwaben (Wiesbaden, 1874), ii. 166. Compare id., Volksthümliches aus Schwaben, ii. 21 n. 1.

Footnote 1087:

E. H. Meyer, Badisches Volksleben im neunzehnten Jahrhundert (Strasburg, 1900), pp. 219, 408.

Footnote 1088:

J. Haltrich, Zur Volkskunde der Siebenbürger Sachsen (Vienna, 1885), p. 281.

Footnote 1089:

W. Schmidt, Das Jahr und seine Tage in Meinung und Brauch der Romänen Siebenbürgens (Hermannstadt, 1866), pp. 9, 11. Compare R. F. Kaindl, “Zur Volkskunde der Rumänen in der Bukowina,” Globus, xcii. (1907) p. 284. It does not appear whether the shepherd’s pouch (“Hirtentaschen”) in question is the real pouch or the plant of that name.

Footnote 1090:

A. und A. Schott, Walachische Maehrchen (Stuttgart and Tübingen, 1845), pp. 299 sq.

Footnote 1091:

A. Strausz, Die Bulgaren (Leipsic, 1898), p. 287.

Footnote 1092:

A. Strausz, op. cit. p. 337.

Footnote 1093:

W. R. S. Ralston, Songs of the Russian People, p. 230.

Footnote 1094:

Above, pp. 126 sq.

Footnote 1095:

F. S. Krauss, Volksglaube und religiöser Brauch der Südslaven, pp. 125-127; id., Kroatien und Slavonien (Vienna, 1889), pp. 105 sq.

Footnote 1096:

W. J. A. Tettau und J. D. H. Temme, Die Volkssagen Ostpreussens, Litthauens und Westpreussens (Berlin, 1837), p. 263.

Footnote 1097:

L. Lloyd, Peasant Life in Sweden, pp. 246-251; A. Kuhn, Herabkunft des Feuers, 2nd Ed., pp. 163 sq.

Footnote 1098:

See above, pp. 75 sq.

Footnote 1099:

W. R. S. Ralston, Russian Folk-tales, p. 345.

Footnote 1100:

Marie Andree-Eysn, Volkskundliches aus dem bayrisch-österreichischen Alpengebiet (Brunswick, 1910), pp. 180-182.

Footnote 1101:

E. H. Meyer, Badisches Volksleben im neunzehnten Jahrhundert (Strasburg, 1900), p. 423; K. Freiherr von Leoprechting, Aus dem Lechrain (Munich, 1855), p. 168.

Footnote 1102:

See above, pp. 56 sq.

Footnote 1103:

A. Strausz, Die Bulgaren, pp. 337, 385 sq. There seems to be a special connexion between St. George and serpents. In Bohemia and Moravia it is thought that up to the twenty-third of April serpents are innocuous, and only get their poison on the saint’s day. See J. V. Grohmann, Aberglauben und Gebräuche aus Böhmen und Mähren, §§ 326, 580, pp. 51, 81; W. Müller, Beiträge zur Volkskunde der Deutschen in Mähren, p. 323. Various other charms are effected by means of serpents on this day. Thus if you tear out the tongue of a live snake on St. George’s Day, put it in a ball of wax, and lay the ball under your tongue, you will be able to talk down anybody. See J. V. Grohmann, op. cit., §§ 576, 1169, pp. 81, 166.

Footnote 1104:

J. V. Grohmann, op. cit. § 1463, p. 210.

Footnote 1105:

F. S. Krauss, Sitte und Brauch der Südslaven, p. 175.

Footnote 1106:

F. S. Krauss, op. cit. pp. 175 sq.

Footnote 1107:

Reinsberg-Düringsfeld, Fest-Kalender aus Böhmen, pp. 194 sq.; J. V. Grohmann, op. cit., § 554, p. 77.

Footnote 1108:

S. J. Curtiss, Primitive Semitic Religion To-day, pp. 83 sq., 118 sq.

Footnote 1109:

S. Baring-Gould, Curious Myths of the Middle Ages, pp. 278 sqq. The authority for this identification is the nominal translator, but real author, of the work called The Agriculture of the Nabataeans. See D. A. Chwolson, Über Tammuz und die Menschenverehrung bei den alten Babyloniern (St. Petersburg, 1860), pp. 56 sq. Although The Agriculture of the Nabataeans appears to be a forgery (see above, p. 100, note 2), the identification of the oriental St. George with Tammuz may nevertheless be correct.

Footnote 1110:

J. Maeletius (Menecius), “De sacrificiis et idolatria veterum Borussorum Livonum aliarumque vicinarum gentium,” Mitteilungen der Litterarischen Gesellschaft Masovia, Heft 8 (Lötzen, 1902), pp. 185, 187, 200 sq.; id. in Scriptores rerum Livonicarum, ii. (Riga and Leipsic, 1848), pp. 389, 390; J. Lasicius, “De diis Samagitarum caeterorumque Sarmatarum,” ed. W. Mannhardt, in Magazin herausgegeben von der Lettisch-literärischen Gesellschaft, xiv. (1868) pp. 95 sq. The first form of the prayer to Pergrubius is from the Latin, the second from the German, version of Maeletius’s (Jan Malecki’s) work. The description of Pergrubius as “he who makes leaves and grass to grow” (“der lest wachssen laub unnd gras”) is also from the German. According to M. Praetorius, Pergrubius was a god of husbandry (Deliciae Prussicae, Berlin, 1871, p. 25).

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