From Good Goddess to Vestal Virgins: Sex and Category in Roman Religion (8 page)

But carrying logic to its extreme in this instance will seriously undermine the plausibility of this analysis. Nowhere in the ancient

sources do we find the slightest hint that the cult of Hercules at the
Ara Maxima,
much less male cultic space, occupied a marginal posi- tion in the cultic universe. And yet, the evidence of the aetiological myths, especially with respect to chronology, appears to support a case for the hypothesis. Both in the case of Bona Dea and of Her- cules, a fact that is stressed repeatedly is the antiquity of the cult. The
Ara Maxima,
as we saw, derived a large part of its cultic impor- tance from its perceived antiquity.
96
But the cult of Bona Dea was even older. It was believed to have been in existence when Hercules arrived on the scene. Both our sources for the Hercules-Bona Dea myth imply that the cult was well established before Hercules
’
arrival.
97
According to the mythological account Hercules was refused entry to the women
’
s rites first, and his exclusion of them from his was done in retaliation. So according to the logic of the myth, at any rate, not only did women exist within the cultic uni- verse, but they were there first, and what is more they made the rules. This is almost an inversion of the Mithraic scenario. How- ever, cultic practice does not appear to have reflected the mythic logic, and nowhere is the cult of the Bona Dea accorded a status superior to that of Hercules. Myth and cult appear to have been in conflict on this issue although the conflict would, I suspect, be more of an issue to the modern analyst than to the ancient. No such con- flict is apparent in the sources, nor are the logical consequences of the myth as I have delineated them ever discussed.

If there is no evidence that male cultic space occupied a marginal position, the same can be said for female cultic space. The cult of the Bona Dea was unquestionably perceived to have been of great importance to the welfare of the Roman state. Cicero repeatedly refers to the ceremony as being performed
pro populo
or
pro salute populi Romani
.
98
Moreover, the furious row that Clodius caused can only partly be put down to political exploitation of the event. The rites had certainly been polluted. We are told that the
pontifices
pronounced them polluted in response to a question by the senate.
99
We cannot ignore the possibility that this could have been a politi- cally expedient decision, and that they would just as easily have decided otherwise if that had been politically more desirable. How- ever, it appears that the pontiffs
’
decision was in this instance merely an endorsement of one taken much earlier. The Vestal Virgins had almost immediately repeated the ceremony,
100
which would imply that it was they who had taken the decision that the rite was polluted and had acted on it. Thus the college of pontiffs was merely endors-

ing a decision already made. They had no room to manoeuvre politi- cally and their decision appears to have been a mere formality, an expression of conventional religious wisdom that they had to present formally to the senate so that it could proceed to take action in the matter. Furthermore I suggest that the level of the fuss gener- ated by the event could only have been sustained if Clodius
’
crime had been perceived as heinous. Nowhere is it suggested that it all could have been dismissed as a youthful escapade. The gravity of his conduct was never disputed. Indeed Clodius was forced to go to improbable lengths to
‘
prove
’
his innocence. The elaborate fiction that he had not even been in Rome at the time of the incident
101
was not meant, I suggest, simply to convince the jury, who had been heavily bribed and were guaranteed in any case to acquit him,
102
but also to influence the general perception of the incident. This was no marginal rite that had been violated, but one which occupied an important niche in the civic system.

The cult of Bona Dea is a study in paradox. Nowhere is this more evident than in the secret December rites that Clodius made notori- ous.
‘
One of the characteristic devices of the non-traditional reli- gions of the Graeco-Roman world was secrecy,
’
writes Richard Gordon, in his opening remarks in an article on the mysteries of Mithras.
‘
Secrecy contrasted with the public character of the domi- nant civic cults intimately associated with the cultural and political power of the elite
’
(Gordon 1988:45). Of the Adonia, Marcel Deti- enne writes,
‘
the Adonia, an exotic festival tolerated by the Athe- nian city on the periphery of the official cults and public ceremonies were a private affair
’
. One mark of this marginal status of the Ado- nia was the fact that it took place not in a sanctuary or other public place, but in the house of a private individual (Detienne 1977:65). In 186 BC when the consul Postumius was investigating the exposure of the secret rites of Bacchus in Rome, one of the more sinister devel- opments of the cult was seen to be the fact that what had started out as a daytime ceremony had been changed by the Campanian priest- ess into a nocturnal one.
103
Nocturnal ceremonies conducted by women were a source of potential danger to the well ordered state and Cicero would have none in his ideal state, with one exception:
nocturna mulierum sacrificia ne sunto praeter olla, quae pro populo

rite fient
—‘
Let there be no nocturnal sacrifices by women, with one exception: that which is performed for the welfare of the people
’
.
104
Sacrificia pro populo
referred to the rites of Bona Dea.
105

Secret, nocturnal, conducted by women in a private house, yet far from being a threat to the state, the festival ensured its well-being. What is to be made of this enigmatic cult? I turn now to the rituals connected with the cult
—
specifically the rituals connected with the December festival. Bona Dea had a temple on the Aventine built by the senate and dedicated by a Vestal Virgin.
106
Ovid describes it as a temple which
‘
abhors the eyes of males
’
.
107
This is the only reference to a temple for the goddess that we have for this period.
108
Ovid
’
s dramatic description has, reasonably enough, been taken to mean that men were excluded from the temple.
109
Yet Ovid himself, this time in the
Ars Amatoria,
appears to suggest that this exclusion may not have been all-encompassing.
‘
The Good Goddess repels from the temple the eyes of men
except such as she bids come there her- self
.
’
110
Who were these men who were allowed into the temple? Dedicatory inscriptions to Bona Dea found in Rome indicate that both men and women worshipped her.
111
Moreover she was believed to possess powers of healing, and in this capacity was iden- tified with the Greek Medea by some ancient exegetists.
112
It is a reasonable surmise that men as well as women benefited from the healing arts of her priestesses and visited the temple to avail them- selves of it. Bona Dea was also a prophetic deity
113
and here again men might well have had recourse to her talents. But none of this satisfactorily explains Ovid
’
s claim:
fuget a templum oculos Bona Diva virorum,/praeterquam siquos illa venire iubet.
114
This seems to suggest some sort of male official of the cult rather than an ordi- nary worshipper. But we have no way of knowing for sure, and not enough evidence even to make an informed guess. However Ovid
’
s testimony is important in that it allows us to say with confidence that the exclusion of males was not as strict as we have been led to think by the large quantity of writing in contemporary and later ages of the Clodius affair. I am not suggesting that the general claim, from Cicero down to the Christian apologists, that the rites Clodius violated were strictly confined to women was in any way adventi- tious. But I am suggesting that the insistence on that aspect of the cult may have clouded our perception of the overall picture. It is entirely possible that selected males may have had a role to play in some of her rites, although not in the December festival.

Our knowledge of what actually went on in the temple of Bona

Dea and the ritual that was conducted in conjunction with the tem- ple on the Kalends of May is very slender indeed.
115
But thanks to Clodius we have a slightly better idea of what took place early in December. The most striking feature of this rite was that it did not take place in the temple of the goddess but in a private house
—
the house of a consul or a praetor for the year in question.
116
We have references to two separate occasions on which the rites were con- ducted. In 63 BC the festival was held in Cicero
’
s house
117
and in the following year in Caesar
’
s,
118
when they were consul and praetor respectively. This poses a very interesting problem: here was a cult perceived to have been strictly confined to women; it was sacrilege for a man to even know what went on; yet the performance of its rituals was mediated by male status. What is more, this status was politically defined. It was not confined to a member of a particular class, for example, the senatorial class. If that had been the case, it would have been harder to argue for male mediation for the venue of the rites, for women too were defined by class, even if that defini- tion was derived from their relationship with men.
119
But political status unequivocally excluded women. At the same time it anchored a cult, full of avowedly dangerous elements, firmly in the nexus of state-sponsored rituals. A deliberate choice was made to hold the rites in a private house, for the Bona Dea did possess at least one temple in Rome. The reason for holding them in the house of a mag- istrate, I suggest, was to provide a symbolic if not physical presence of men at the rite.

The symbolic presence of men in the rites of the Bona Dea was not limited to the venue of the festival. The wife of the magistrate in question appeared to play a leading part in the business of the evening although it is impossible to know what exactly her duties entailed, or how far her authority extended over the activities involved. The Vestal Virgins were present, and it appears that it was they who actually performed the rites.
120
In 62 BC when a man
—
Clodius
—
was discovered in the house, it was not the Vestals but Aurelia, Caesar
’
s mother, presumably taking the initiative from her disgraced daughter-in-law, who ordered that the rites be stopped immediately.
121
The Vestal Virgins later repeated them. During the rites celebrated the previous year, when flames leaping out of a dead fire signalled a prodigy, it was interpreted as a divine message for the presiding matron for that year, Cicero
’
s wife, Terentia. It was a sig- nal from the goddess that the course of action Cicero was contem- plating
—
i.e. summary execution of the Catilinarian conspirators
—

had divine endorsement, and it was his wife who was sent to tell him
so.
122

The self-conscious and ostentatious way in which the exclusion of males from the house was effected also served to emphasize their
‘
presence
’
within it. For one thing the men
—
and a wealthy Roman household contained a sizeable number of them
—
had to find alter- native accommodation for the night. This could hardly have been effected unobtrusively.
123
Second, all traces of previous male pres- ence had to be masked. Even pictures of males, we are told, had to be covered up
—
not removed, but covered up.
124
Those draped objects, present throughout the proceedings, could not have failed to serve as reminders of what lurked beneath the drapery
—
symbolic representations of men. Not only that, but in the house of a senior magistrate, portraits and busts of men would have included those of distinguished ancestors, and would thus have largely been represen- tative of those who had held positions of power in the state. Absent males, dead and alive, representing the continuous power of the Roman state, dominated with a symbolic presence a rite ostensibly restricted to females.
125

What exactly did these women do all night? Cicero writes of elab- orate ceremonial
(Sacrificium
…
fit incredibili caerimonia)
.
126
Juve- nal paints a lurid picture of a drunken orgy.
127
Clodius disguised himself as a female musician in order to infiltrate the ceremony of 62 BC.
128
There may well have been music, even dancing, but Versnel
’
s hypothesis that the festival of Bona Dea provided a ritual setting for the licentious behaviour of women is not supported by the evi- dence.
129
Such a hypothesis could only have been based on Juvenal
’
s description, for nowhere else do we find a suggestion of debauchery in connection with the rites. But quite apart from the literary context

—
the infamous sixth satire
—
which in itself would be sufficient to challenge an uncritical acceptance of its contents as historical evi- dence, Juvenal makes it quite clear that what he is describing is not the prescribed practice of the rites but a deplorable lapse from the strict standards of the past.
‘
O would that our ancient practices, or at least our public rites were not polluted by scenes like these.
’
130