A sideboard was piled up with silver and gold plate. In addition in a corner stood a round table with three feet; on which were laid napkins neatly tied up with blue and red bands. These napkins contained trinkets, rings, brooches, comfits, mottoes, and were to be given to the guests along with the dessert. Our presentation of Christmas crackers is a reminiscence of the old Roman custom of making presents to the guests at the close of a banquet.
The males lay at table on couches, with their legs extended behind them, their left elbows reposed on pillows. It was against ancient Roman custom for ladies to recline, but recently some empresses had broken through the rule, and when they set the example of lounging, others followed. Duilia, however, was a stickler in some things, and she somewhat affected archaic usages, as a mark of distinction, as a token of the antiquity of the family, whose customs had acquired an almost sacred sanction. Ladies sat on stools.
The couches and seats were sumptuous, inlaid with mother-of-pearl, tortoise-shell and silver, and were covered with Oriental carpets.
Every guest was attended by a slave, bearing an ewer and napkin, so that he might cleanse his fingers directly they became greasy – a necessity of constant recurrence, on account of the absence of proper forks.
A baldachin of embroidered silk was stretched above the table, and the heads of the banqueters. This was done for the purpose of cutting off the draught, as immediately above, in the ceiling, was the lacunar, an opening through which the steam and savor of dinner might escape, and through which, when the canopy was not spread, rose-leaves, violets, a spray of scent, even garlands were scattered over the revellers.
A Roman dinner began, like one in Russia at the present day, with a gustus, a snack of something calculated to stimulate the appetite or to help digestion.
Then came in soft-boiled eggs, the invariable first dish, just as invariably, the meal closed with apples.
With the eggs were served salads and sauer-kraut, cabbage shredded in vinegar, Brussels sprouts boiled with saltpetre to enhance their green, turnips and carrots in mustard and vinegar. Melons were eaten with pepper, salt, and vinegar; artichokes were consumed raw, with oil; mallows and sorrel, olives, mushrooms and truffles were favorite vegetables, and were eaten along with large snails, oysters, sardines, and chopped lizards.
All this was preparatory.
Now entered the repository, groaning under meats and fish. At the same moment a slave produced and handed round a menu card. But before eating, a benediction was pronounced, the household gods were invoked and promised a share of the good things from the table.
It is unnecessary to catalogue the solids and entrées sent up at such a supper. Pork was a favorite dish, and there were fifty ways in which a pig could be served up. Octopus was much relished, as it is to this day in Italy. Wild fowl was stuffed with garlic, mutton with asafœtida, and some meats were not considered in condition till decomposition had begun.
The strong savor produced by those dishes was dissipated by servants holding large fans, and counteracted by the diffusion of aromatic smoke, and the sprinkling of guests and table with essences.
A supper consisted of several courses, but a considerable interval elapsed between each, which interval was filled in with conversation, or enlivened with the antics of buffoons, or with music, or the recitation of poetry.
Nothing in the smallest degree unseemly was allowed in the house of Longa Duilia, at such entertainments.
We read a good deal, in the ancient authors, of the license allowed at such times, but this was not general, certainly was not suffered except in very “fast” houses, and such were attended by none who respected themselves.
The widow knew how to make herself agreeable. Flavius Sabinus, the præfect, was a great talker, and there was a little rivalry between the two as to which should lead the conversation. Domitia hardly spoke, but the guests generally entertained themselves heartily.
Lamia was there, and near his betrothed, but found it difficult to carry on conversation with her. Since the questioning of Ishtar in the Temple at Gabii, she had been haunted by the visions presented to her inner sight, and she was unable to shake off the oppression of spirits and distress of mind, they had caused.
When supper was ended, previous to the dessert, all rose, a grace was said, and again the household gods were invoked.
All were thus standing, in solemn hush, whilst a portion for the deities was being taken away, when the curtain before the door was roughly drawn aside, and a young man ran in – then halted, bewildered by the lights and the company, and hesitated before advancing further.
A faint cry escaped the breast of Domitia; and she staggered back, and caught Lamia convulsively by the wrist.
Then Flavius Sabinus said apologetically to his hostess:
“This youth is my nephew, Titus Flavius Domitianus, the younger son of my brother Vespasian. Pardon his lack of breeding, lady – I bade him find me here, if matters of importance demanded my attention. Excuse me, I pray, if I retire with him and hear what news of weight he bears.”
Duilia bowed, and the præfect, leaving his place, went to meet his nephew.
Lamia felt that Domitia was trembling. He looked in her face and it alarmed him. With wide eyes she was staring at the intruder; her lips were slightly parted, every trace of color had deserted them; and between them gleamed her teeth.
Not till the curtain had fallen, and hidden the form of the young man, as he left with his uncle, did she breathe freer.
Then she heaved a long sigh, and said in a faint voice:
“It is he – the eighth crowned head – the fifth come again – the new Nero. O Lamia! Terrible is Fate!”
CHAPTER XV.
THE LECTISTERNIUM
“My dear child,” said Duilia, “I never did a better stroke of policy than that supper a few evenings ago. It went off quite charmingly, without a hitch. I allowed that good Flavius Sabinus to talk; and he is just one of those men who enjoys himself best where he is given full flow for his twaddle. A good, worthy, commonplace man. I doubt if he has push in him, but he is just so situated now that he must go ahead. The news is most encouraging. Mucianus is on his way to Italy at the head of an army. Primus, with his legions, is approaching; he has beaten the troops sent against him, and has sacked Cremona; there are positively none who hold by Vitellius except his brother in Campania, and his German bodyguard. Domitia,” the widow dropped her voice, “we can do better than with that milksop Ælius Lamia.”
“Mother, I will have no other.”
“Then we must push him up into position. But come, my dear, we must show ourselves at the Lectisternia. It will be expected of us, and be setting a good example, and all that sort of thing, and it is positively wicked to mope indoors when we ought to be seen in the streets and the forum. So there, make yourself ready. I am going instantly. I have ordered round the palanquins, and, as you may perceive, I am dressed and my hair done to go out. That supper was quite a success.”
The time was now that of the Saturnalia, lasting seven days, beginning on the 17th December with a strange institution, a banquet of the gods. Usually the several gods had their feasts in their own temples and invited others to them, but on certain solemn occasions all banqueted together in public. The distress, the butcheries, the general confusion caused by the setting up and casting down of emperors – three in ten months – and now, eight months after, a fourth tottering; and every change involving massacre, plunder, disturbance of order; – this had moved the priests to decree a solemn lectisternium and supplication for the restoration of tranquillity and the cessation of civil broil.
The banquet was to take place in the forum.
“You shall come in the lectica (palanquin) with me,” said Duilia. “It will have quite a pathetic aspect – the widow and the orphan together. Besides, I want some one to talk to. What do you think of Flavius Domitianus? A modest lad, to my mind.”
“Shy and clumsy,” observed Domitia. “The sight of him is a horror to me.”
“My dear child, only a fool will take sprats when he can have whitebait. Look out to better yourself.”
“Oh, mother! – what is that?”
“A god going to supper,” said the lady. “We shall see plenty of them presently.”
That which had attracted her daughter’s attention was a bier supported on the shoulders of priests, on which lay a figure dressed handsomely, in the attitude of a man at table, raised on his left elbow that was buried in a pillow, the head erect and the right arm extended, balanced in the air. The body was probably of wood under the drooping drapery, but the face and hands and feet were of wax. In jolting over the pavement, the sleeve had become disarranged, and showed the wooden prop that sustained the waxen right hand. The face was colored, the eyes were of glass, and real hair was affixed to the head; the lower jaw, hung on wires, opened and shut with the jostling. The staring figure swaying on the shoulders of the bearers, had a sufficiently startling effect, sweeping round a corner, wagging its beard, and past the palanquin in which were the ladies.
“A thing like that can’t eat,” said Domitia.
“Oh, my dear child, no. The gods only sniff at the food. After it has been set before them, it is carried away, and the people scramble for it.”
“They are naught but wax and woodwork,” said the girl contemptuously.
“My child, how often have I not had to quote to you that text, ‘It is not well to be overwise about the gods?’ Here we are! What a crowd!”
The forum of Rome, that wondrous basin towered over on one side by the Capitol, inclosed on another by the Palatine, and on the third by the densely packed blocks of houses in the Suburra below the Quirinal, Viminal and Esquiline Hills, was itself crowded with temples and basilicas, yet not then as dense with monuments as later, when the open spaces were further encroached upon by the Antonines.
“Domitia,” said Longa Duilia, in her ear, “all things are working out excellently. Vitellius is aware that he has no chance, and has been consulting with our cousin in the Temple of Concord yonder, and they have nearly settled between them that Vespasian is to assume the purple without further opposition. Vitellius will retire to some country villa on a handsome annuity. That will prevent more bloodshed and confiscation, and all that sort of thing. It is always advisable to avoid unpleasantnesses if possible. There, child, there are quite a bevy of gods already at table. See that dear old doll, Summanus, without a head – you know it was struck off by lightning in the time of Pyrrhus. It was of clay, and rolled all the way to the Tiber and plopped in. Since then he has been without a head, the darling!”
“How can he either smell or eat, mother?”
“My child, I don’t ask. It is not well to be overwise about the gods. There go the Arval Brothers with the image of Aca Larentia seated – of course not lying. You will see some venerable curiosities, who put in an appearance on days like this so as not to be wholly forgotten.”
The sight presented by the forum was indeed strange. A space had been cleared and shut off from the intrusion of the crowd, and there lay and sat the images at tables that were spread with viands. All were either life-size or larger. Some were skilfully modelled, and wore gorgeous clothing, but others were of the rudest moulding in terra cotta, or carved wood, and evidently of very ancient date, of Etruscan workmanship little influenced by Greek art.
Domitia looked on in astonishment. The populace laughed and commented on the images, without the least reverence; and the priests and their assistants laid the dishes before the puppets, then whisked them off and carried them without the barriers. Thereupon ensued a struggle who should get hold of the savory morsels that were being conveyed from the table of the gods; even the vessels used for the viands and for the wine were snatched at and carried away, and the priests offered no resistance.