Professional Documents
Culture Documents
MEMORY
Author(s): Fanny Dolansky
Source: Phoenix , Vol. 65, No. 1/2 (Spring-Summer/printemps-été 2011), pp. 125-157
Published by: Classical Association of Canada
Stable URL: https://www.jstor.org/stable/10.7834/phoenix.65.1-2.0125
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to Phoenix
Fanny Dolansky
This study develops from and expands upon part of my doctoral dissertation on the socio-cultural
and historical significance of sacra familiae. There I advance some of the same claims as I do
here, but situate the festival differently, specifically within the context of the family’s religious
program and its connections to other domestic rites. The present contribution is intended to be
self-contained and establish the Parentalia’s relevance in a broader social and historical context. I am
grateful to Keith Bradley, Jonathan Edmondson, and Phil Venticinque for many helpful suggestions
and encouragement on earlier drafts, and to the anonymous readers for Phoenix for their generous
feedback, all of which has greatly improved the final version; any errors that remain are my own.
Additional research for this study was funded by a Brock SSHRC Institutional Grant and completed
at the University of Chicago, where the Department of Classical Languages and Literatures not only
nurtured my research at earlier stages, but continues to provide a supportive environment during my
return visits.
1
Praef. A.5: carorum meorum obitus; praef. B.1: nomina carorum. Cf. praef. B.15: fata meorum. It
is worth noting Ausonius’ use of mei to indicate family and the absence still in the fourth century of
a specific word that equates to English “family.” The designations praef. A and B for the prose and
verse preface respectively follow Green 1991; similarly, I adopt his abbreviations for Epicedion in
Patrem (Epiced.) and Commemoratio professorum Burdigalensium (Prof.) which differ from those listed
in OCD3. Translations of Ausonius, based on the text of Green 1991, are my own, though I have
been influenced by Evelyn White (1919, Loeb Classical Library) and Lolli (1997). Translations of
Ovid’s Fasti are from Boyle and Woodard 2000. All others are my own unless otherwise noted.
2
Green (1991: 273, 279) suggests the epicedion appeared soon after Julius Ausonius’ death in
377 or 378, and argues that he may have actually died in 377 rather than 378 as Etienne (1985:
13–14) and Lolli (1997: 61) maintain. Par. 1.4 records his death after twenty-two Olympiads
or eighty-eight years. As Green (1991: 281) notes, both eighty-eight and ninety could be round
numbers demanded by the metre.
3
Children: Par. 10, 11, 28, 29. Youth: 13, 14, 17, 19, 20, 23 (bis), 24, 25 (perhaps), 27. One
might also include Ausonius’ wife Sabina who died at 27 and whose death he clearly regarded as a
funus acerbum (Par. 9).
125
PHOENIX, VOL. 65 (2011) 1–2.
The Parentalia was only one ritual among many concerned with relations
between the living and the dead, for worship of the dead assumed a wide variety
of forms and differed across time and space.6 Yet this diversity in ritual practices
does not detract from the fundamental role the Parentalia played in Roman
society and its paramount importance to the family in particular. My hope
is that by uncovering the rich texture of this observance and demonstrating
its enduring significance, this article will afford not only specialists of Roman
religion and historians of the Roman family, but also scholars broadly interested
in Roman culture and society and the institutions central to both, a greater
understanding.
Although I will concentrate primarily on a period much earlier than that of
Ausonius, I have begun with his collection for several reasons. The Parentalia
is a rich source for the festival and a unique resource for the history of domestic
life in late-antique Gaul. His poetic munera provide rare glimpses of personal
sentiments and of the impact of death upon kinship ties for one member of
the Gallo-Roman elite and for a particular form of the late Roman family.7
Surprisingly, the Parentalia has not figured prominently in discussions of the
late Roman family, and has been almost completely overlooked in studies of
the festival itself.8 Though the poems are of limited use for reconstructing
ritual procedures in the fourth century or earlier, Ausonius’ reflections on loss
and on the importance of performing annual rites are helpful for establishing a
sentimental or emotional context for the festival, for the poems go beyond social
practice to reveal a psychological dimension to the ritual that is often difficult
to recover.9 The Parentalia also raises questions about the survival of traditional
6
There were other death-related observances throughout the year including the Lemuria in May
and the Rosalia in May/June, not to mention a multiplicity of beliefs concerning the lares, manes,
and “ghosts,” and their relationship to the dead.
7
For munera as offerings or tributes given out of a sense of duty to the dead (see OLD munus
1d and 3), see, for example, Par. 8.17 (pia munera solvo, “I pay these pious tributes”) and cf. praef.
B.6, Par. 4.32, 7.14, and 17.16. We need not assume it was routine to commemorate as many
family members individually and with as much specificity as Ausonius does, yet his Parentalia is at
least suggestive of the range of possible remembrances a fourth-century elite male might have had,
even if they cannot be deemed representative for Roman society.
8
For example, Nathan (2000: 162–164) devotes only a few pages, while Bettini (1991: 76)
claims the Parentalia offers “invaluable evidence” for family relations and “deserves better” than
it has received, yet spends scarcely a half-page on the entire collection. The poems make rare
appearances in studies of the festival by historians of religion (e.g., Schilling 1964; Scullard 1981:
74–76; Scheid 1984; King 1998: 420–428) or the Roman family (Dixon 1992a: 136–138), and the
festival is absent from Harmon’s (1978) study of domestic rites.
9
Ausonius offers details about ritual practice only twice: Par. 24.4 and 30.11. Even if the poems
are regarded as somewhat artificial or purely literary constructions, the emotions they express had to
have been consistent with a Roman audience’s expectations for the festival. This is not to suggest
there would have been universal approval of his tone or of such strong displays of emotion, but
rather that Ausonius’ emotionality would have seemed plausible to his audience as one possibility
along a spectrum of responses. Cf. Dixon 1991: 111 on the sentimental ideal of Roman family
Roman religious practices and the extent of continuity and change over both
time and space. Ausonius’ collection thus serves as a useful point of departure
for investigating this festival for the family dead.10
life: “the collection and circulation of stories illustrating exemplary marital behaviour and sad cases
of parental loss imply the existence of an audience presumed to have sentimental interest in these
topics.”
10
I return to the poems in greater detail in section iii for their valuable insights into the motives
that underlay the celebration, and in section iv address how Ausonius negotiated his Christian faith
with pagan cultural and religious practices.
11
Although ludi in honour of Magna Mater and Ceres spanned periods of seven and eight days
respectively, Augusto-Tiberian calendar entries indicate a single, specific festal day for each (see
Scullard 1981: 263 and 259–266 in general for festivals listed in extant calendars). Most festivals
varied in length between one and three days, though three-day festivals were few in number.
flecting elite and not merely “popular” usage.16 Indeed Ausonius, a contempo-
rary of Jerome, commenting on the double commemoration of his uncle Arbo-
rius first in Parentalia and later in Professores, specifically calls him parens (Prof.
16.5–6) in a context that suggests that “relative” rather than “parent” should be
understood.17
Despite evidence for the wider application of parens/parentes, some scholars
have classified the Parentalia and its recipients in narrow and misleading terms.
Perhaps it is from reliance on etymological and legal definitions, which subsume
more remote generations under the category parentes, that the Parentalia has
been characterized as “a festival of ancestors” and a celebration “honouring the
cult of ancestors.”18 To insist, however, on a very limited meaning of parentes
that ignores these definitions and makes the festival an observance for “the cult
of parents” is no less problematic.19
From the evidence for the festival in practice, it is clear that the Parentalia
concerned a spectrum of kin, and honoured both vertical and horizontal bonds.
The rites commemorated relatives who had departed long ago—grandparents
and great-grandparents, who could legitimately be called ancestors (maiores)—
but also those who had died more recently, such as siblings, spouses, and fre-
quently children and youths, as Ausonius’ tributes to over a dozen funera acerba
demonstrate. Moreover, the parentes with whom one associated the festival seem
to have largely been contingent upon the juridical and socio-economic statuses
both of the recipients and of the performers of the rites. Literary sources such
as Ovid and Ausonius, whose family lines extended vertically and horizontally
at some distance, connect the Parentalia with the domus or the gens and several
16
For example, Quintus Curtius 6.10.30 of a father and two brothers; SHA Gord. 23.6 for a
relative by marriage.
17
Wilkinson (1964) lists the examples included in n. 16, but not Auson. Prof. 16.5–6: bis
meritum duplici celebremus honore parentem / Arborium, Arborio patre et avo Arigicio. Evelyn White
(1919) translates: “As doubly earned, let me pay this double meed of praise to my father Arborius,
son of Arborius, and grandson of Argicius.” He refers to Par. 3.1–2, 8 in support of rendering
parens “father” since there Ausonius makes it clear that his uncle was like a parent to him, even
calling him pater et genetrix at line 8. But in Prof. 16.5–6, I suggest the wider meaning of parens
simply as “relative” makes better sense, for in this instance Ausonius is celebrating Arborius not
among the spirits of his departed kin (inter cognatos manes, 1), but among rhetoricians of Bordeaux
(inter rhetoricos nunc memorandus eris, 2). It is thus important to acknowledge that Arborius is a
family relation, but that is secondary to his fama as a rhetorician (14).
18
Davies 1999: 145; Stirling 2004: 431. Cf. Hope 2003: 117: “Events such as the Parentalia
were focused on the ancestors.” Rives’s description (2007: 117) of “the traditional time for Roman
families to pay cult to their forebears” also seems potentially misleading. For difficulties in applying
the term “ancestor worship” to various Roman rites for the dead, see King 1998: 260–267. Wissowa
(1912: 232) held that the Parentalia was for di parentum, but neither literary nor epigraphic references
emphasize the divinity of the honorands.
19
Lindsay 1998: 75. Rose (1948: 48) called the Parentalia “festival of parents, and so ancestors
generally” but elsewhere (81) commented that “rites are due to a departed father or mother, and
so to dead kin generally.” Pariente (1976: 304), who insists on the generative meaning of parens,
similarly regards it as a festival for parents and ancestors.
generations of kin, while the epigraphic record indicates that among the non-
elite, some of whom had tenuous ancestral lines at best, there was a tendency to
concentrate instead on the nuclear family and the conjugal unit in particular.20
For example, in Brixia, L. Vettius Ursinianus set up a dedication to his wife
Clodia Achilles that specified how she was to be remembered at the Parentalia
once he was no longer alive to perform the rites himself (CIL V 4410). Similarly
Valeria Ursa, also from Brixia, made arrangements before her death in the hopes
of guaranteeing that she and her husband would be commemorated each year
hence on the Parentalia (CIL V 4489).21
Inscriptions such as these offer some insights into what rites on the Parentalia
entailed, but it is from Ovid’s entry for the Feralia that a more complete picture
emerges.22 Ovid begins by exhorting his fellow Romans (Fast. 2.533–542):
animas placare paternas,
parvaque in exstructas munera ferre pyras.
535 parva petunt manes: pietas pro divite grata est
munere; non avidos Styx habet ima deos.
tegula porrectis satis est velata coronis
et sparsae fruges parcaque mica salis,
inque mero mollita Ceres violaeque solutae:
540 haec habeat media testa relicta via.
nec maiora veto, sed et his placabilis umbra est:
adde preces positis et sua verba focis.
Placate your fathers’ souls,
Bring tiny tributes to the erected pyres.
535 The dead desire little. They want piety,
Not rich gifts; deep Styx has no greedy gods.
A tile covered and arranged with wreaths is enough,
Sprinkled corn and a thrifty grain of salt,
20
See below (section iii) for further discussion of implications of juridical status for the observance
of the festival. I have deliberately used the vague term “non-elite” because, although all these
individuals appear to have had some means, and several seem to have been relatively prosperous
within their own towns, they nevertheless fall somewhere along a socio-economic spectrum that has
indigent and affluent at its extremes, so it is difficult to assign them more precisely.
21
Cf. CIL V 4871 from Brixia which, though fragmentary, also concerns the commemoration
of a spouse on the Parentalia. None of these inscriptions have been securely dated and indeed only
about one third of Parentalia inscriptions can be. See below, 134 and 148–150, for reliance on
non-kin groups such as collegia for future performance of the rites.
22
Ovid perhaps reserved his treatment of the commemorative period for February 21 rather than
its start on February 13 because he had already assigned that date to the anniversary of the slaughter
of the 306 Fabii by the Veientines in 477 b.c.e (though Livy 6.1.11 dates it to July 18). In this way,
he concludes a period that featured two other occasions associated with death: the anniversary of
the Fabii and the Quirinalia on February 17, which marked the death and apotheosis of Romulus.
Littlewood (2001: 918, n. 6) also includes the Lupercalia among February festivals associated with
death, but it is unclear why unless it is simply by the mutual connection with februa (means of
purification or expiation).
The offerings he suggests are simple, yet their symbolic value may have been
rather complex. Wine and purple flowers are reminiscent of Aeneas’ offerings at
Anchises’ tomb (Virg. Aen. 5.77–79), and perhaps were intended to resemble the
blood of animal sacrifice, which was rare for the Parentalia but not unattested.23
Corn sprinkled with salt and garlands are typical sacrifices within the home to
the Lares and Penates. Through these common sacrificial elements, ritual and
spatial links may have been forged between distinct components of the family’s
religious program.24 These similarities also linked the present with the past and
the living with the dead, for all family members participated at one time in sacra
before the household gods as they participated, in one capacity or another, in
rites before family tombs.25
Ovid instructs participants to leave their offerings on potsherds in the mid-
dle of the road (haec habeat media testa relicta via, 2.540) and later explains
(2.565–566) that people envisioned the spirits of the dead wandering around and
consuming the food left for them.26 He assures celebrants that parva munera
(534) will generally suffice, and this is confirmed by epigraphic prescriptions
that specify libations, garlands, and loose flowers, especially roses, as typical
Parentalia offerings. For Clodia Achilles, mentioned above, her husband gave
money to the local seviri Augustales to ensure a libation was poured in her hon-
our on the Parentalia as well as the Rosalia.27 Similarly, in honour of Ursilia
23
Lucretius (DRN 3.51–53) and Festus (75L) intimate that some familial celebrations included
animal sacrifice. These passages contradict the claim of Scheid (1984: 134), who maintains that
there are no instances of blood victims except in parentationes publiques. A second-century c.e.
inscription from Petelia in southern Italy (ILS 6468) is also suggestive. It documents the provisions
for sacrificial victims (hostiae) on the Parentalia and the funds the testator entrusted to the Augustales
and his fellow municipes for the rites. This does not technically constitute a familial celebration as
no family members are mentioned, but it is hardly a parentatio publique either.
24
Corn with salt as an offering to the Penates: Boyle and Woodard 2000 ad 2.535–542. Typical
offerings to the Lares: Juv. 9.137–138; Hor. Carm. 3.23.3–4; Tib. 1.10.21–24.
25
Attending and observing a religious ritual are integral aspects of participation since many rituals
require both actors (those actually performing the rite, in this instance a sacrifice) and an audience.
Similarly, we should regard involvement in the preparation of offerings as a form of participation.
26
However, tomb offerings were sometimes misappropriated: for example, Tib. 1.5.53–54 and
Catull. 59. Hope (2000: 125) notes that cemeteries were frequented by beggars, thieves, and
prostitutes, which increased the possibility that offerings might go astray.
27
The Rosalia, which appears in several inscriptions with the Parentalia, was an unofficial cel-
ebration in May and June, when roses were especially in bloom. The Violaria, which fell in late
April, involved violets and was also paired (though less frequently) with the February rites. On
the nexus of these commemorative occasions, which were sometimes linked with birthdays as well,
Champlin (1991: 164–165) insists on the importance of timing for perpetuating the memory of
the deceased: “Directly or indirectly, the emphasis is firmly on the donor and participants in the
Not surprisingly, however, such small tokens were not always deemed suffi-
cient, a possibility Ovid acknowledges (nec maiora veto, sed et his placabilis umbra
est, Fast. 2.541). Testamentary and dedicatory inscriptions allow us to expand
considerably on Ovid’s statement as they lend insights into the scope of com-
memorative practices and mentalités that accompanied them, and reveal the im-
portance some attached to presentation and ostentation in celebrating the rites.
Evidence for the performance of more lavish rites primarily concerns freedmen
and women from Italy and Cisalpine Gaul who established funerary foundations
whereby they entrusted to non-kin groups such as collegia the perpetuation of
their memories through various displays—and proudly advertised the prescribed
expenditures on lasting memorials. Several examples illustrate the range of of-
ferings and financial outlays for these purposes.32
In Ostia in the late first or early second century c.e., a woman named Iunia
Libertas bequeathed a property to her dependants and their descendants. She
seems to have assumed they would see to her commemorative rites, but specified
that if no member of her familia survived, then the property should be transferred
to the people of Ostia and 100 sesterces from the interest be directed annually
for sacrifices and the decoration of her tomb on the Parentalia, with equal sums
for rites on the Violaria and Rosalia as well (AE 1940.94.10–18).33 In a more
straightforward example, L. Veturius Nepos, a resident of Feltria, left 4000
sesterces to a group called the Herclanenses for sacrifices on the Parentalia and
an identical sum to a group of women to adorn his tomb with roses, presumably
on the same occasion (CIL V 2072). The type of sacrifice is not specified
in either instance, as is often the case. Manius Megonius, the author of a
second-century c.e. testamentary inscription from Petelia (ILS 6468), however,
indicates clearly that he wants sacrificial victims (hostiae), a rare instance of
animal sacrifice at the festival for the family dead. Moreover, a sum greater
than the 50 denarii allotted for his commemorative dinner (cena parentalicia)
should be used to procure them.
Special dinners were also components of more grandiose celebrations. While
Megonius most likely chose to feast his family or friends, one couple from
32
Some figures may be helpful to put the expenditures in context and establish the socio-economic
status of the individuals who set up these foundations. The dedicators constitute members of what
Duncan-Jones (1982: 131) calls the “economically privileged classes.” Of the known foundations
that concern the Parentalia, the capital values range from HS 400 to 1200 with annual interest
payouts of HS 24 to 720. An adult free male likely earned HS 500 to 1000 per annum (Jongman
2007: 601); slightly farther along the scale, a legionary in the second century c.e. typically earned
an annual salary of HS 1200 while the minimum property qualification of a town councilor in some
Italian towns was HS 100000 (Duncan-Jones 1982: 10–12).
33
AE 1940.94.10–18: si nemo ex familia superaverit | tunc eos hortos cum aedificis et tabernis | ita uti
macerie clusi sunt finibus suis | proprietatis iurisque esse volo | colonorum coloniae reipublicae Ostiensiu[m]
| ex quorum reditu ab repulica (sic) Ostiensium | inpendi volo in ornationem sepulchri | et sacrifices die
parentaliorum | HS C violae HS C rosae HS C. For discussion of the inscription, see de Visscher 1963:
239–251 and Dixon 1992b: 162–174.
Comum required a lectisternium or banquet for the gods at a cost of 200 denarii
(CIL V 5272). Commemorative dinners such as these provided opportunities
for self-promotion and display, whether in the amount made available for dining
expenses or in the provisions for the number of participants. The latter scenario
is evinced by the bequest of Gaius Attius Ianuarius, who stipulated to the college
of centonarii in Umbrian Mevania that no fewer than twelve men should attend
an annual meal at his tomb (CIL XI 5047).34
Perhaps it was because of these sorts of displays that Tertullian, writing early
in the third century c.e., accused pagan Romans of worshipping their dead “with
excessive show of devotion” (impensissimo officio, Resurr. 1).35 He also charged
that they brought offerings of food to their dead but came home drunk on
the wine meant for libations (De anima 4).36 Tertullian may have exaggerated
the excesses that attended the rites, yet his remarks are nevertheless important
because they suggest that a less somber side to the festival than the solemn
tone Ausonius’ dirges and some epigraphic prescriptions convey. Tertullian’s
comments also point to the custom of families and friends gathering at tombs to
share food and drink as part of the commemorative rites. Hopkins (1983: 233)
maintained that “[w]e have to imagine Roman families picnicking al fresco at the
family tomb, where, according to Christian critics, they often got boisterously
drunk, with their dead relatives around them.” After all, these were opportunities
for people to unite to perform religious ceremonies, but also to share meals and
each other’s company in the presence of their dearly departed.
To facilitate these activities, necropoleis might have communal kitchens and
shared water supplies, while some individual tombs were equipped with their
own wells or cisterns, kitchens, ovens, dining rooms, and means for storage—
amenities that could greatly enhance the social facets of the Parentalia and other
commemorative occasions.37 Toynbee lists a variety of rooms or buildings asso-
ciated with tombs for the purpose of eating and socializing, including cenacula
34
Dunbabin (2003: 128) proposes twelve as the maximum a tomb triclinium could accommodate.
Donahue (2004: 128–129), who surveys evidence for feasting within collegia including annual feasts
on the Parentalia (128–136), remarks of the preference for bequeathed meals such as Ianuarius’ over
one-time offerings that the former provided “a greater opportunity for the benefactor to perpetuate
his memory.” On CIL XI 5047, see infra, 149.
35
et tamen defunctis parentat, et quidem impensissimo officio pro moribus eorum, pro temporibus
esculentorum, ut quos negant sentire quidquam etiam desiderare praesumant.
36
quando extra portam cum obsoniis et matteis tibi potius parentans ad busta recedes, aut a bustis dilutior
redis. Such allegations, however, were not restricted to pagan practices. See, for instance, August.
Conf. 6.2 for problems associated with similar Christian rituals and section iv below.
37
Communal kitchens and water supplies: Carroll 2006: 71 and Tirelli 2001: 251–252 with
references. Toynbee (1971: 97 and 300, nn. 324–336) lists inscriptional evidence for a range of
tomb amenities primarily from Rome, Ostia, and Isola Sacra. Archaeological and epigraphic evidence
from North Africa reveals similar provisions such as masonry tables and couches, as Stirling (2004:
432–433) discusses. Since some testators expected several visits to their tomb within a single month,
a certain amount of storage space may have been necessary. One inscription from Rome (CIL VI
10248) prescribes offerings at the tomb on thirty-nine separate days in addition to the Parentalia.
38
Toynbee 1971: 97, with references on 300, nn. 324, 325, 327, 328. See CIL VI 15593 for
tricliae and CIL VI 10876 for the five-room suite of diaetae.
39
Though not necessarily paradigmatic or typical, Isola Sacra nevertheless handsomely illustrates
the sorts of amenities tombs might offer. Much of what makes the site a good source of exempla is
its remarkable state of preservation and accessibility in comparison with other sites.
40
Baldassarre et al. 1996: 89–92.
41
Baldassarre et al. 1996: 128–135.
42
Stirling (2007: 117) lists several sites at which floral and vegetal decorations on cupulae have
been recorded.
green, red, and blue flowers on the platform of one cupula whose barrel was
decorated with cupids frolicking in a field of flowers.43
Representations of fruit and flowers inside tombs or on their outer surfaces
sometimes reflected the immediate external environs, and one is reminded of
Trimalchio’s wish to have “all kinds of fruit and plenty of vines” growing about
his massive, 100 square foot tomb (omne genus poma . . . vinearum largiter, Petron.
Sat. 71.7). Sepulchral gardens, orchards, and vineyards could form part of an
elaborate tomb complex such as the one Trimalchio envisions, and contribute to
the experiences of the living not only aesthetically but also practically.44 Toyn-
bee (1971: 97) proposed that the produce from cepotaphia could be used to
provide the means for celebrating the Parentalia and other commemorative oc-
casions. In the town of Ambarri in Gallia Lugdunensis, a half-acre of vineyards
was designated specifically “for the purpose of celebrating the Parentalia” (ad
Parentalia celebranda, CIL XIII 2465), and presumably either use of the wine
produced there or profits from its sale were intended.45 As Purcell (1996: 125)
suggests, cepotaphia were multi-purpose plots of land that “with or without the
funerary function . . . were fragmented into tiny intensively farmed lots which
also fulfilled the needs of amoenitas.”
43
Stirling 2007: 134 (on the tree-lined road) and 117 (for the cupula tomb).
44
Purcell (1996: 125) cites the example of CIL XI 3895, a lot in Capena approximately 0.25
hectares in total, that included a rose garden, small vineyard, fish tank, and reservoirs.
45
The bequest of Claudia Corneliana of Brixia (IIt X 5.817 = AE 2001.1067), though it does
not concern a cepotaphium, achieved a similar purpose. She left a valley to the inhabitants of a
neighbourhood of the colony so that rites could be celebrated for her on the Parentalia, Rosalia,
and Vindemiae (presumably a vintage festival).
46
For emphasis on the spatial dimension of the rites, see Ov. Fast. 2.33 (placatis tempora sunt
sepulchris); Varro Ling. 6.13 (ferunt tum epulas ad sepulcrum); and the entry in Polemius Silvius’
calendar of 448 c.e. (parentatio tumulorum).
47
Garlands: Ov. Fast. 5.2.537 (unspecified); CIL V 5272 (myrtle); CIL V 5907 (roses). For
cleaning monuments and statues for special occasions, see CIL V 4016, 7906, and AE 2000.344b.16–
17.
48
My treatment of the spectacular quality of the Parentalia has been informed to an extent by the
work of cultural anthropologist John J. MacAloon (1984). Analyses of individual religious rites and
general treatments of Roman religion tend not to mention the spectacular quality of Roman rituals
(cf., however, Bodel 1999 and Flower 1996: 91–127 on aristocratic funerals). The spectacular,
however, seems to be inherent in both civic and domestic celebrations. It is particularly apparent in
festivals that have ludi as a component (e.g., the Floralia), and is an essential feature of the triumph
(on which see Brilliant 1999; Beard 2003; and Bell 2004: 151–198).
49
By “corporate identity” I mean the shared values, attitudes, and sense of belonging that comes
from membership in a family.
50
Carroll (2006: 50) discusses the close proximity of tombs to residential and commercial
properties.
51
Elsner and Rutherford (2005: 1–38) discuss the challenges of defining pilgrimage with re-
spect to the ancient world. They cite (11, n. 39) six types distinguished by Morinis in his 1992
work, Sacred Journeys: The Anthropology of Pilgrimage (4–5), of which two seem most applicable to
the Parentalia: the devotional pilgrimage, where the goal is to encounter and honour a shrine’s
divinity, personage, or symbol (note that tombs were legally loci religiosi), and the normative pil-
grimage which occurs as part of a ritual cycle and may relate to the life cycle or annual calendrical
celebrations.
52
For costly libations, see below, 140–142, on the rites for Q. Cominius Abascantus.
53
For viewers—and readers—of tombs, see Koortbojian 1996. As Carroll (2006: 50–58) dis-
cusses, stone benches along the “streets of tombs” at Pompeii and Ostia were intended for passersby,
while epitaphs that required one to stop, read, and say something aloud also invited people to ap-
proach the tombs. She also draws attention (1 and 48) to the fact that tombs faced the road, thereby
encouraging further interaction.
Much could be said about the event Abascantus envisions, but I draw attention
only to a few points to help establish further the exceptional nature of these
rites.
The first item on Abascantus’ list is a wrestling contest. Ludi and munera
gladiatoria are not uncommon in Italian funerary foundations, but no other
testator is known to have specified a wrestling match, and I am aware only of
one instance of ludi associated with the Parentalia at all, those in honour of
M. Nonius Balbus cited above. The second item concerns Abascantus’ request
which formally records Nymphidia’s commemoration of her husband with a statue, and Text B,
which records a chapter of Abascantus’ will, are most relevant here. With respect to exceptional
celebrations, I leave aside a very fragmentary inscription from Ghirza in Libya, dated to the first
half of the fourth century c.e., part of which records sacrificia [p]arentaliorum in the form of 51
bulls and 38 goats (AE 1957.243.11–17). Mattingly (1994: 207) does not regard it as evidence
for the Parentalia as I have described it here and as it was known in various parts of the empire,
including North Africa. He suggests it may relate to a Libyan ancestor cult that has been iden-
tified with what appeared to be its nearest Roman equivalent. Smith (1985: 237) is somewhat
more positive, although he comments that “[i]t seems most remarkable that this ancient Roman
festival should have been known and celebrated in so remote a place on the southern fringe of the
Romanized world.”
62
Abascantus does not specify when these ministrations should take place (AE 2000.344b.16–18).
Presumably it is in the course of the Parentalia since eleven of the remaining twelve expenditures
pertain to the festival.
63
Tr. D’Arms 2000: 140. AE 2000.344b.18–26: et ad cepotafium meum quod annis die parentalio-
rum |luctatorib(us) paribus decem in eo loco victoribus sing(ulis) IIS VIII | superatis sing(ulis) IIS IIII
n(ummos), oleum IIS XVI n(ummos), vernis IIS LX n(ummos), conducto- |ri harenae IIS VIII n(ummos),
sepulcro exornando viola IIS XVI item ro- |sa IIS XVI n(ummos), et super reliquias meas nardum p(ondo)
libra IIS XXIIII [ef ] |fundi, et epulari volo magistratus qui tunc erunt ea die in |triclin<i>o quod est super
sepulcrum, et curatores Augustali- |um qui tunc erunt inpendique IIS C n(ummos) et ea die sacrificio |mihi
faciundo IIS LX n(ummos).
for nard-oil (nardum), one of the costliest aromatic unguents. Finally, there is
the feast which Abascantus clearly intended to be a restricted affair. By D’Arms’s
estimation, the dinner was for six guests who were to be feasted at a rate of just
over 16 sesterces per person. Although this fell considerably short of the highest
per capita rate attested for similar dinners, which was nearly double, Abascantus’
dinner was nevertheless a lavish and exclusive affair.64
Through these grand displays, Abascantus, in cooperation with his wife and
fellow Augustales, sought to ensure the survival of his memory as a man of con-
siderable means whose acts of philanthropy benefited the entire town. D’Arms
(2000: 129) maintained that “it is the aspirations of a single Augustalis, to be
perceived and remembered as a man of wealth and high repute, that consti-
tute the driving forces behind these texts.” Yet from these texts another pic-
ture of Abascantus emerges: a man who was a beloved husband and devoted
colleague, who respected Roman traditions and placed a high premium on re-
ligious practice. We can see similar motives behind the other spectacular cele-
brations examined above. While it would be foolish to deny the emphasis on
economic standing that emanates from these inscriptions, it is important to bear
in mind the context of such advertisements. These individuals specifically chose
the Parentalia to proclaim their stature through their insistence upon particular
ritual components, whether costly libations, gymnastic contests, or commem-
orative feasts. In doing so, they presented themselves to contemporaries and
later generations as men of means and as individuals who respected religious
traditions and valued the families and friends upon whom they relied to preserve
and perpetuate their memories for years to come.
64
D’Arms 2000: 138–139. CIL XI 6117 (from Forum Sempronii, modern Fossombrone) records
a dinner for decurions at 30 sesterces apiece, on which see Duncan-Jones 1982: 201, no. 1079b.
however, Ovid and Ausonius, suggest that the sense of obligation was mitigated
by honour and affection.65
Throughout his description in the Fasti, Ovid calls attention to the aspect
of pious duty inherent in performing the rites. The opening lines set the tone
with their emphases on honor, pietas, and munera (2.533–536):
est honor et tumulis, animas placare paternas,
parvaque in exstructas munera ferre pyras.
535 parva petunt manes: pietas pro divite grata est
munere.
Tombs also are honoured. Placate your fathers’ souls,
Bring tiny tributes to the erected pyres.
535 The dead desire little. They want piety,
Not rich gifts.
As he progresses to the origins of the festival, the stress on pietas and honor
remain. It was Aeneas—“that fitting patron of piety” (pietatis idoneus auctor,
543)—who introduced the Parentalia to Italy, for it was from his offering of
annual/solemn gifts (sollemnia dona, 545) to his father’s spirit that the people
learned these pious rites (hinc populi ritus edidicere pios, 546).66 After its inception,
celebrating the festival continued to be of the utmost importance, although Ovid
does caution his readers that there was one moment at a remote and indefinite
point in the past when neglect of the Parentalia did occur (at quondam, dum longa
gerunt pugnacibus armis / bella, Parentales deseruere dies, “But once, while armed
for battle and waging long wars, they abandoned the Parentalia,” 547–548).
The consequences were dire: ancestral spirits left their tombs to wander fields
and streets, filling them with shapeless souls. To avoid such monstrosities in
the future, Romans resumed celebrating the Parentalia and tombs regained the
respect or honor they were due (praeteriti tumulis redduntur honores, 555).67 Ovid
carries the theme of duty and devotion to the conclusion of the passage, where
65
Fowler (1911: 387) conflated pietas with officium, which is not altogether surprising since some
ancient sources define one by the other (e.g., Cicero [Inv. 2.161] defines pietas as benivolum officium,
“well-meaning duty”).
66
In contrast, Ausonius attributes the institution of the Feralia, if not the entire commemorative
period, to Numa (Par. praef. B.7; cf. Ecl. 9.2 and 10.3–4). For allusions to Virg. Aen. 5.43–101,
see Miller 2002: 179–180 and Barchiesi 1997: 67–68, who interprets Ovid’s repetition of parva as
an attempt to scale down the “epic” sacrifices of the Aeneid. Littlewood (2001: 921) notes Ovid’s
attention to pietas in these verses and remarks generally of his description of the Feralia (917) that
it “represents wholesome duty, pietas, towards Roman ancestors duly practised by decent Roman
families.” Yet the emphasis on wholesomeness stands out in a book that has so much dark content
with tales of rapes, mutilation, attempted murder, and death. Drossard (1972, cited by Newlands
1995: 155, n. 24) considers purification the unifying theme of the book; the latter half of the proem
(2.19–46) also seems to encourage this.
67
In her examination of the theme of the founder legend in Book 2 of the Fasti, Littlewood
(2001: 921) suggests that Romans would have related abandonment of the Parentalia after a long
period of war to neglect of cults and temples during the civil wars, and thus be reminded of Augustus’
he reiterates that the Feralia is so-named because people bring proper offerings
for the dead—iusta (569), the term regularly used for funeral rites that conveys
the meaning of what is right or due.68
Ovid assumes an authoritative persona with his ritual directives and reminders
of what the Parentalia ought to entail. Unlike Ovid, Ausonius is interested not
in displaying his erudition through ritual detail but in exploring the sentimental
context of the celebration. He identifies a wide range of family members related
by blood and marriage. His choice of commemorands is not arbitrary but “as
the impact of death and the proximity of the relationship require” (ut gradus
aut mortis postulat aut generis, praef. B.8).69 Selecting relatives by these criteria,
however, appears to be closely connected to the concepts of pietas and officium
that recur throughout the collection. Both are concepts of considerable antiquity,
so it is significant that they are still meaningful for Ausonius and his audience in
the late fourth century c.e., though their presence in the poems is not surprising
since these important virtues characterized many familial relationships.70
Ausonius presents commemoration as an act of respect, but also a duty and
responsibility to one’s kin. It is pia cura (“dutiful concern,” 5.1) that prompts
him to sing of his maternal grandmother and offer her shade pious prayers (pia
verba, 5.11). Aemilia Hilaria, a maternal aunt who was like a second mother to
him, “deserves to be remembered with the respectful affection of a son” (affectu
nati commemoranda pio, 6.2), while for another maternal aunt he must discharge
the maestum officium or “sad duty” (25.11–12) of honouring her memory. Finally,
there is his tribute to Paulinus, his niece’s husband and a close contemporary, for
whom he invites anyone who “reveres loyalty along with sacred devotion” (fidem
sancta cum pietate colit, 24.2–4) to join him with annual offerings of sacrificial
cakes.71
subsequent restoration, adding to his image as alter conditor. This is possible, but I am inclined
to situate this episode much farther in the past, as McDonough (2004: 360) similarly does in
translating 2.547–548, “But once, when waging a long war with fighting weapons, they [the early
Romans] forgot the Parentalia” (his insertion).
68
Cf. Ausonius’ offering (Par. 30) of a poem to his daughter’s mother-in-law as her annua iusta.
69
Noting the difficulty of the line, Green (1991: 301) translates it “as the order of death and the
proximity of the relationship require.” Lolli (1997: 51) similarly proposes “la successione cronologica
delle morti” for gradus mortis. In this instance, however, gradus more likely means “impact” or
“importance” (see OLD gradus 9), as Peter White has suggested to me. The impact of the loss as
one criterion helps to account for the organization of the collection which does not reflect the order
of death: the poems do not follow any discernible chronological pattern, as they neither begin with
the most recent deaths and progress to the most distant nor vice versa. The idea of the impact or
weight of the loss also helps explain the attention to funera acerba highlighted above.
70
Moreover, as King (1998: 278–285) demonstrates, pietas was understood to be an important
factor motivating worship of the dead, whether on the Parentalia or at the performance of funerary
rites. The notion that pietas was “a reciprocal relationship, compounded of reciprocal sentiments,
ties and duties” (Fortes 1970: 177) resonates in Ausonius’ tributes. On pietas and the Roman family,
see Saller 1994: 105–114.
71
For other examples of pietas and pius in the Parentalia, see 3.1, 4.1, 8.17, 9.2, 18.6, 19.13,
25.4, and 28.6. Note, too, the distinction made in Prof. 16.3–4 (for his uncle Arborius) where pietas
In Ausonius’ poems, there is also a sense that familial duty should be respected
despite the obstacles posed by limited acquaintance, geographical distance, even
death. In the case of his sister-in-law and her husband, though he admits he
scarcely knew her and had never even met him, neither these facts nor their burial
some distance from Bordeaux would prevent him from issuing proper tributes.72
For his sister, Aemilia Melania, who predeceased him as an infant, he would
not accept death as an impediment to duty and enjoined her to venerate their
parents’ spirits in death as he would in life (manesque venere parentum, 29.7).
Both Ovid and Ausonius emphasize the roles duty and devotion played in
honouring familial bonds. We have seen in Ausonius’ tributes and in funer-
ary dedications the commemoration of close relations and possibly recent losses
such as parents, children, and siblings. But the Parentalia also concerned more
distant relatives who had died long ago. Ovid sings of ancestral spirits (animas
paternas, Fast. 2.533) and enumerating generations (generis dinumerare gradus,
2.622), suggesting the bonds of familial obligation and devotion could extend
far back in time. This sense of familial continuity, of the family line stretching
unbroken from the past to the present—and beyond—was advertised in senato-
rial houses by the prominent display of ancestral masks (imagines) in the atrium,
where they would serve to remind family members and visitors alike that the
ancestors were “an integral part of life in the house.”73 In the houses of the elite,
primarily but perhaps not exclusively of the senatorial class, family histories were
presented in painted genealogical trees (stemmata) that perhaps adorned the en-
trance way (vestibulum) leading into the atrium or the atrium itself.74 For sen-
atorial families, family history and the distant past merited celebration as well
as commemoration. But for others, whose family histories were more obscure,
the focus may have had to remain on the more recent past. Among the upper
classes, Ausonius’ Parentalia illustrates this possibility, since he looks no farther
back than his father among paternal relatives while commemorating both ma-
ternal grandparents.75
is identified as the driving force behind the composition of Parentalia, but devotion to his patria
motivates Professores (illud opus pietas, istud reverenda virorum | nomina pro patriae religione habeant).
Ausonius also makes good use of the gerundive to express further the sense of duty or obligation
that attends these tributes: see Par. 6.2, 9.4, and 16.10.
72
Par. 21. Cf. Lucr. DRN 3.48–54.
73
Flower 1996: 186.
74
See Flower 1996: 211 and 213 for the possible location of stemmata in Petronius’ description
(Sat. 29) of Trimalchio’s pictorial life history. Cf. Sen. De Ben. 3.28.2, which is suggestive of the
vestibulum, though Suet. Galb. 2 and Mart. 4.40.1 place them in the atrium specifically. It is logical
to interpret Pliny’s (HN 35.6) reference to stemmata as concerning only senatorial houses, since it
immediately follows mention of the imagines in the atrium, yet the practice could have extended to
other orders among the elite.
75
Ausonius was conscious of his limited ancestry which he acknowledges in his speech of thanks-
giving to the emperor Gratian (Grat. Act. 8.1). Hopkins (1961: 241) noted that Ausonius was “rather
reticent” about his father’s background and does not provide a portrait of any paternal relative farther
back than his father. He proposed that Ausonius’ paternal grandfather might have been a freedman
from the east which could account for his silence. This is possible, but perhaps Ausonius’ reticence
lay in another aspect of his past since at least one other literary figure, Horace, was not shy about
the fact that his father was a freedman.
76
Patterson (1992: 23) states that families and collegia must have worked together to provide
burial and Liu (2004: 392–393) concurs. They may have worked together to ensure rites on the
Parentalia as well, but there is no explicit evidence for their cooperation in this regard.
77
Andreau (1977) has critiqued Bruck and others regarding the composition and motives of these
foundations, in particular distinguishing between reflexive foundations for commemorative purposes
and non-reflexive ones for social ends, but Champlin (1991: 161) rightly insists such a separation
does not obtain.
78
For example, CIL VI 9626, V 4489, XI 1436, XI 5047.
79
For example, CIL V 4448 details instructions to a college of smiths to perform annual rites
on the Parentalia for a couple whose young son predeceased them. Similar concerns seem to
apply in CIL V 5907 for Ursilia Ingenua whose parents turned to a youth organization for future
observance of the Parentalia. This may also be the case for spousal commemorations in which a
collegium is entrusted with ritual activities after one partner has died (see, e.g., CIL V 4410 for
Clodia Achilles, who predeceased her husband, perhaps prompting him to leave money to the seviri
Augustales).
80
Hopkins’s argument (1983: 211–217) that a combination of demographic pressures (i.e., burial
for a “mass society”) and costs prompted the rise in cooperative burial clubs has been fairly crit-
icized by Purcell (1987: 34–35), van Nijf (1997: 33 and 44–49), and most recently Verboven
(2007: 14).
81
Champlin 1991: 28.
82
As one reader has suggested to me, the Parentalia’s absence from the Digest may simply show
that jurists were not interested in writing about it or that the sixth-century compilers did not think
it worthwhile to excerpt earlier authors on the subject.
83
Two Italian menologia rustica (farmers’ almanacs) may offer additional glimpses into the religious
practices of lower social strata. These inscribed bronze cubes, which probably date to the first century
c.e. (see Degrassi 1963: 284 and Salzman 1990: 170 n. a for more precise dating), list weather
conditions, agricultural tasks appropriate to the season, and religious observances for each month.
For February, they include four festivals (the Lupercalia, Parentalia, Caristia, and Terminalia) but
omit others. It is intriguing that the Parentalia was granted a place in these calendars especially
since the festival is absent from the writings of the agronomists.
84
Suo more could also mean “after proper or due custom,” referring to adherence to traditional
practice instead. See OLD suus 12 and cf. Boyle and Woodard’s translation of sua verba (Ov. Fast.
2.542) as “ritual words.”
85
I list here the inscriptions for which civic status is clear. Municipia: AE 1976.144 (Hercula-
neum), 2000.344a–c (Misenum); CIL V 2072 (Feltria), V 5272 (Comum), XI 4593 (Carsulae), XI
5047 (Mevania); ILS 6468 (Petelia). Coloniae: AE 1940.94 (Ostia); CIL V 4410, 4440, 4489 and
IIt X 5.817 (= AE 2001.1067) all from Brixia; CIL V Suppl. Ital. 181 (Aquileia); CIL XI 1436
(Pisa). In certain cases, the status of the community is not evident (e.g., CIL V 4016 from Arilica)
or, because the status changed over time but the inscription cannot be dated with any precision, it
is impossible to assign it to one category or another (e.g., CIL V 5907 from Mediolanum).
86
Keppie 1983: 193–195.
87
For an overview, see Beard et al. 1998: 328–336.
glimpses of the festival, but it did become part of Gallo-Roman practices some
time before Ausonius composed his tributes in Bordeaux. At Ambarri in Gallia
Lugdunensis an inscription reserves a half-acre of vineyards ad Parentalia cele-
branda (CIL XIII 2465), while at the Roman colony of Arelate (Arles) in Nar-
bonensis, it seems likely that some corpora and collegia were active in performing
Parentalia rites as they were elsewhere in towns in Italy and Cisalpine Gaul.88
For North Africa, we lack explicit literary and epigraphic testimony, of the
sort surveyed above, to establish firmly the presence of the Parentalia. Never-
theless, the evidence certainly suggests that the rites were being performed and
with enough regularity by the beginning of the third century to engage Christian
detractors.89 Writing in Carthage in the early 200s, Tertullian appears to be well
acquainted with the Parentalia when he derides pagan attitudes toward death. In
De anima, he uses the verb parentare in reference to offering food at the tombs of
deceased relatives (cum obsoniis et matteis parentans, 4), and criticizes this practice
given pagan claims that the dead were free from this-worldly concerns. He then
charges that pagans misappropriate the offerings and return drunk, presumably
from the wine intended for libations or enjoyed during feasting at the tombs. In
the opening of De resurrectione carnis (1), he draws attention to what he regards
as pagan hypocrisy. He insists people offer sacrifices to the deceased (defunctis
parentat) in lavish fashion and continually supply them with edible offerings
yet deny the dead are sensate and have needs. Two centuries later, Augustine
(Conf. 6.2) similarly displays familiarity with the Parentalia when he describes
his mother Monica’s habit of bringing food and wine to the shrines of North
African martyrs. Typically she would partake of some of the offerings and leave
the remainder for the poor. When she was in Milan, however, the bishop Am-
brose forbade these practices. Augustine boasts that she immediately repented
her ways and explains Ambrose’s twofold rationale: first, there was a fear of
drunkenness since people drank the wine instead of pouring it as a libation;
second, these practices “bore so close a resemblance to the superstitious rites
which the pagans held in honour of their dead” (illa quasi parentalia superstitioni
gentilium essent simillima) that they had to be curbed. Clearly Parentalia rites
had continued to flourish in North Africa long after Tertullian’s condemnation
and retained their appeal for some Christians who adapted the practices to suit
their own purposes.90
88
CIL XII 731 records L. Iulius Secundus’ bequest to two corpora of river personnel at Arelate to
use the interest omnibus annis sacrificio ei parentetur, “every year for a sacrifice in honour of the dead
for him.” Although the verb parentetur is not equivalent to the festival, it does show an awareness of
the practice of offering devotions to the dead and is suggestive of the possibility that the Parentalia
may have been celebrated there.
89
A fragmentary inscription from Lambaesis (CIL VIII 3284), seemingly of a soldier from legio
III Augusta, directs funds for sacrifices in honour of the deceased ([p]arentarent). Similar arguments
hold in this case as they do for the inscription from Arelate (above, n. 88).
90
Tr. R. S. Pine-Coffin. Stone and Stirling (2007b: 24) note that, unlike Monica, other North
Africans did not abandon these customs so quickly, citing a sermon by Augustine (Serm. Guelf.
[After] my death [in order that] they keep my [tomb?] lit with lamps on the Parentalia.
And if they do not keep [it] lit, let them pay a fine of 200 denarii to the Kerdozeis (?).92
28.5), who criticized Donatists for getting drunk at the tombs and for other behaviour that was
incompatible with Christianity. For further discussion of the practice and perceived problems of
bringing food offerings to martyrs’ tombs, see Quasten 1940.
91
The inscription was first published by Perdrizet (1900: 321) in a study of the Rosalia at
Philippi, then republished with emendations by Salač (1923: 50–51). Both editors interpret it to
be the Roman Parentalia, as does Pilhofer (2000: 641–642, no. 636), though none comment on it
substantially. I am grateful to Ari Bryen for first drawing my attention to this inscription, and to
Bill Bubelis for additional discussion. The second half of a Latin inscription from Philippi written
in Greek script may also relate to the Parentalia. The text here follows Pilhofer (2000: no. 048,
lines 4 through 8), who provides the inscription in both Greek and Roman scripts: Sekouw Furmi
| feilia relikut bikani- | bouw Satrikhniw X rm« | out m i dekimou Ka- | landaw parenöt÷htor.
Secus Firmi | filia reliquit vicani- | bus Satricenis X CXL | ut m(anibus) i(nferis) decimo ka- |
landas paren[t]etur. The temporal reference in lines 7 and 8 makes identification as an instance
of the Parentalia problematic. Some earlier commentators interpreted m i as an abbreviation for
m(ensis) I (unii) which would yield a date of May 23 for the tenth day (before) the kalends, thus
the time of the Rosalia, but Pilhofer offers sound reasons to reject that and proposes that m i
represents m(anibus) i(nferis) instead. Could it be that the author intended us to understand the
tenth day before the kalends of March, thereby placing her request in the middle of the dies
Parentales?
92
Though Pilhofer (2000: 642) takes parakaœsvsin simply as “make offerings” (“sollen sie mir
opfern”), Collart’s study of the phrase in Rosalia inscriptions suggests that it can have the particular
sense of illuminating a tomb with lamps (1931: 65, n. 5, with Latin comparanda). The Kerdozeis
seem to be the inhabitants of a vicus in the territory of Philippi: see Papazoglou 1982: 105.
it bears directly on the Parentalia’s survival in the fourth and fifth centuries
c.e.—and possibly beyond.93 When Ausonius wrote his Parentalia in the 380s,
he was certainly a Christian, yet performing the rites does not appear to have
been incompatible with his Christianity.94 He provides almost no detail about
procedure so we cannot know what the Parentalia actually entailed for him
as a ritual or how closely it might have resembled what Ovid or inscriptions
prescribed in earlier periods. It is clear, however, that the festival was meaningful
for him. Sivan (1993: 110) has proposed that Ausonius can be considered a
“nominal pagan,” a term that indicates “belief in a certain code of behavior and
in a literary culture that was deeply rooted in classical paganism.” For Ausonius,
the Parentalia represented important values embodied in the concepts of pietas
and officium that permeate his commemorative poems.
Christians and pagans had long shared similar burial customs and religious
rituals such as funerary feasts and food offerings for the dead, many of which
continued well into the fourth century. Salzman (2007: 114–116) has argued
that these similarities constituted parts of a shared religiosity she labels the
“religious koine” of the fourth century. Yet when differing attitudes toward
the dead could no longer be reconciled, especially when the cult of the saints
developed late in the century, common ground could not be maintained.95 In
this light, Ausonius’ observance of the Parentalia is surprising, since it is precisely
at this time, in the 380s and 390s, that we hear of Ambrose’s prohibition of food
offerings at tombs in Milan (August. Conf. 6.2) and Augustine’s opposition to
feasting at family tombs and the graves of Christian martyrs in Hippo (August.
Epist. 29.9). Brown (1981: 35), however, cautions that attitudes varied from
region to region. Thus as the fourth century drew to a close and the Parentalia
was being attacked by clergy in Italy and North Africa, in Gaul Ausonius was
celebrating and a half-century later the festival seems to have still met with
93
There is a hint of the festival’s survival well into the sixth century. In 567, the Council of
Tours (Canon 23 = CCSL 148A.191) deplored rites for a celebration called cathedra domini Petri (the
festival of St Peter’s Chair), held on February 22 and understood by some to be a transformation
of the Caristia (e.g., Bömer 1957/58 ad Ov. Fast. 2.617; Février 1977; and MacMullen 1997: 40,
182, n. 25). Yet the practices seem to have incorporated elements of the Feralia as well. According
to the Council, people were accustomed to bring food offerings to the dead then return home after
mass where they consumed a meal. The problem lay in the fact that after taking communion, they
then received “foods from demons” (sacratas daemoni escas). Bringing offerings to the dead resembles
the Feralia, while eating a family meal at home points to the Caristia, which suggests some survival
of the Parentalia at this late date.
94
Green (1991: xxvii) submits that Ausonius was definitely a Christian by the 370s while Etienne
(1985: 69) considers him to have been a Christian all his life. Opinions vary on the date of
composition of Parentalia. Green (1991: 298) contends that Ausonius had written most of it before
turning to Professores which can be dated to the mid-380s or possibly somewhat later; Etienne (1985:
25), however, seems to envisage Ausonius only starting Parentalia in 384. For my present purposes,
precise chronology is not critical.
95
Brown (1981: 1–49) traces the rise in the cult of the saints and tensions related to different
beliefs concerning the care of the dead. MacMullen (1997: 110–118) also treats festivities that
comprised the cult.
96
The calendar, which Salzman (1990: 242) calls “avowedly Christian,” is the latest definitive
testimony of the festival anywhere in the Roman world. It seems noteworthy that Silvius includes
the Parentalia while omitting other long-standing and popular festivals such as the Liberalia and
Isidis navigium. Salzman, however, suggests that Silvius was simply inconsistent, and these latter
festivals might no longer have been celebrated in the fifth century.
97
For accessible surveys of the similarities in customs and rituals, see MacMullen 1997: 109–118
and Salzman 2007: 114–116.
family tombs (ius ibi parentare, Ling. 6.13). Ovid described it as a matter of honor
(Fast. 2.533, 555), with the weightiness of the obligation mitigated to an extent
by pietas (2.535). The emphasis on duty and devotion is even more striking
in Ausonius’ poems, which capture the author’s personal sentiments concerning
responsibilities owed to the dead. Celebrating his maternal grandfather is a pium
munus (“pious tribute,” Par. 4.1) while honouring an aunt means discharging a
sad duty (maestum officium, Par. 25.10–11). Ausonius’ repeated use of pietas
and officium illustrates his ability as a Christian to embrace these venerable
concepts, which were integral to family life and to adherence to Roman religio.
His appreciation of their validity as guiding moral principles appropriate to a
Christian way of life may be reflective of how other Christians felt and behaved.
Ausonius focused only on the solemnity of the rites and overlooked the social
components that emerge as important aspects from other sources. The festival
was an opportunity to perform meaningful service on behalf of the deceased,
then to celebrate them further by feasting at tombs designed to facilitate com-
mensality. The social features of the festival were attractive to participants, par-
ticularly the sharing of food and drink in the company of loved ones, both living
and dead. As a facet of commemorative activity, the practice of dining with the
dead had distinct appeal. Tertullian criticized its excesses yet centuries later it
still persisted. Not only did pagans continue to feast at the tombs, but Chris-
tians favoured the custom too, and although Augustine’s mother abandoned the
practice after Ambrose’s reproach, others did not.
For more than half a millennium and across a vast geographical expanse, the
Parentalia was a vital part of Roman life. Whether it was tradition or obligation,
a high valuation of the dead, the promise of social engagement, or a mixture of
factors that motivated participants, the Parentalia was a fixture in the ritual lives
of Romans of various social strata throughout the Latin west. During the “days
for the dead,” families and friends united to celebrate the ties that linked the
living to the dead, to honour vertical and horizontal bonds, and to perpetuate
the memories of the ones they loved. Observing the Parentalia, an occasion
marked by ceremony and spectacle, was both a duty and an act of devotion that
not even the vicissitudes of life could deny.
Department of Classics
Brock University
500 Glenridge Avenue
St Catharines, Ontario
L2S 3A1 fdolansky@brocku.ca
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