The Pagan Heart
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April 2004 Issue
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Inspiration Speaks The Story of Romulus and Remus
Long, long ago a king named Amulius ruled the city of Alba Longa. To become king, he stole the throne from his brother, Numitor, and tried to kill him. But Numitor managed to escape just in time, and fled to a far away country. His daughter, Rhea Silvia, was caught by Amulius before she could follow her father. Forced by her uncle to become a priestess, Rhea Silvia worshipped Vesta - and became a Vestal Virgin, which meant she could never marry or have children. Mars, the god of war, was flying over Alba Longa one day and heard the sound of someone singing. Like a lark, the voice lifted up and lingered in the air - so beautiful, he had to find the singer. He came down and wandered through the town until he arrived at the steps to the Temple of Vesta. Seated on a small bench off to one side sat Rhea Silvia, singing a hymn to Vesta as she spun wool to make a robe for the cult statue. Her thick black hair shimmered in the air - like the mane of a fine horse, it hung smooth and silky. Delicate fingers twirlded the spindle with skill. Her head bent over her work, he could only see part of her face - clear olive skin, an arched brow, and one sea-shell ear. She heard him as he shifted in place, and glanced up, an enquiry upon her lips. Mars felt his heart stumble when he saw her - he, the god of war, could barely move from wonder at her beauty. She recognised him and sprang to her feet, a look of awe in her brilliant eyes. Mars and Rhea fell in love. Every day he came to visit her. Sometimes they walked through the orchards behind the city, others they sat on that small bench and talked. Each day they grew closer, until the time came when Mars did not want to leave. Faint fear sent a shiver through Rhea as she asked him to stay - the Vestal Virgins were sworn to remain untouched by man so they might serve Vesta with all their devotion. But she knew those vows long broken by the love she felt for Mars. That evening, instead of returning to her quarters, she walked out to the sacred grove of Mars - there none would see or hear what happened. Mars awaited her, eager hope in his face. Together, they lay beneath the sheltering trees.
Mars and Rhea spent many nights together in this fashion, and eventually she became pregnant. At first her long flowing dress hid this, but eventually people noticed. For a Vestal Virgin, pregnancy confirmed that she had broken her oath to Vesta and the punishment was death. Usually, the priestess would be led down into a small pit and left there with a jug of water, some bread and no light. The pit would be covered over and she would be left to die - unharmed by human hand as she was still protected by Vesta. But in Rhea's case, Vesta intervened. She understood the love of her cousin for this mortal woman and decided to help the lovers. She came to King Amulius in a dream, seemingly crazed and insane with anger. Eyes red and glowing, black hair writhing about her like a nest of snakes, she demanded vengeance. "Throw the woman into the Tiber. I wish her to suffer for this betrayal. Wait until she gives birth, and then throw her into the river. Let her grieve for her children as she drowns!" The king, being evil, of course thought this a wonderful idea. Telling no one about his dream, he insisted that the Vestal Virgins care for his niece until she had her baby. For three weeks Rhea waited and then one evening she felt labour starting. The priestesses gathered close and one went to collect the local midwife. Urgency filled the air as everyone waited to see the baby. No one knew of Vesta's plan - except Mars and Rhea - so the Vestal Virgins were filled with sorrow, thinking that soon their friend and her child would be killed. Instead of joy, Rhea's son, Remus, was born to tears. Imagine the surprise when the midwife told Rhea that there was another child waiting to be born? Romulus soon followed his brother and Rhea held her sons for the first, and last time. Of course, soon everyone was crying - two beautiful sons born, and the mother about to be carried off and killed. Rhea knew she would live - Vesta and Mars had plans - but her soul sank as she realised her sons would face the king along. This was something she failed to plan for. They had all thought Amulius would try and kill her before the children were born. Mars and Vesta were away in Olympius, and she lay there, alone amidst the people. How could she leave her babies? Amulius would murder them - Rhea could think of nothing else, and her tears fell like a storm. Desperate, she clutched the babies to her breasts, feeling aching pain inside as they drank her milk blissfully unaware that soon they would be dead. One of the priestesses smoothed back her hair, trying to soothe her. Rhea felt her hair catch on something - the necklace she wore at all times, hidden beneath her robes. She tugged it out and looked at it. From a thin leather strap hung two small lockets of gold. The profiles carved into them showed her own face and that of her father - one bulla was hers, the other's Numitor's. Special charms worn by children until they reached adulthood, the bulla protected the wearer from evil. Struggling to remove it without disturbing her sons, Rhea bit the leather strap in two and tied one bulla about each child's neck. "May the spirits of our family know you and protect you," she whispered. As soon as Amulius heard of their birth he sent guards to collect the boys and Rhea. Screaming, Rhea fought the men as they dragged her from the bed, trying to keep hold of her children. But the soldiers were too strong and soon she lay bound hand and foot with rope. They carried her through town to the river's edge and tossed her into the dark waters. She sank swiftly, and all thought her dead. Meanwhile other guards hurried the babies to the castle. After examining them, Amulius shoved them at one of his servants and ordered the man to kill them. Horrified, the servant hid his fear and bowed low before scurrying away. But instead of killing the twins, he wrapped them up warmly and placed them in a wicker basket which he carried down to the river. Before setting the basket adrift, the servant prayed to Tiberinus, the god of the river, begging him to watch over the boys and keep them safe. Then he gently pushed it out into the water. Tiberinus, busy caring for Rhea who he had just finished plucking from the river, did not know the boys were hers. She lay in his arms, and too worried over her chilly, unconscious state, he sent water nymphs to look after the boys. The nymphs playful, flighty creatures, guided the basket downstream to a shallow beach. After pushing it ashore, they darted away, and soon forgot about the whole thing. Within moments a female wolf came to the river to drink. Hearing the wails of the boys, she sniffed at the basket and quickly discovered the babies. After first giving them her teats to suckle at, she licked them clean and then dragged the basket up the slope to an old fig tree. Beneath its sheltering branches she lay with the babies, keeping them warm and letting them drink her milk. By now, Mars and Vesta had seen Rhea and knew the twins were missing. With Tiberinus, Mars scoured the river seeking his sons while Vesta tended to Rhea. The babies, content and well-fed, slumbered beneath the fig-tree. Mars saw only the curled form of the wolf, and passed by, unaware she sheltered his sons. The boys grew quickly - the divine blood of their father showing through - withinin days they could crawl about. It did not take long before their laughter and cries were overheard by a local shepherd. He found the children sleeping, nestled up within the protective embrace of the she-wolf. Faustulus took the boys home to his wife and the two peasants raised Remus and Romulus as if they were their own children. As they grew the boys showed signs of great strength and physical ability, seeming older than their actual age. They became shepherds, like Faustulus, but were little suited to the task. Remus especially had difficulty tending the sheep. He preferred to engage in imaginary wars, seeking out companions for his battles. One day he attacked a group of six boys tending the flocks of a local king. They, unaware of his game, responded violently, and soon he found himself fighting in earnest. Despite their greater numbers, Remus defeated them. As he pranced about, waving his staff in the air and crowing his victory, the fathers arrived on the scene. They managed to overpower him and dragged him off to their employer's villa for punishment. As the noble sat in judgement over Remus, the two stared at each other - in Remus, the man recognised a certain look. The wayward spring of hair across his forehead, the arched eyebrows, the smooth olive skin stretched across fine cheekbones. This boy looks like my lost child, the boble thought, and images of Rhea filled his mind. For this was Numitor. Remus, meanwhile, stared at the man's strong resemblence to his brother, puzzled. Numitor asked about Remus's family, intending to fine them for the boy's troublemaking. "I live with my foster father and foster mother," offered Remus. "They have little money, but my brother and I could work for you instead." "Foster parents? Where are your flesh and blood then?" "I do not know. We were found on the banks of the Tiber in a basket. A she-wolf suckled us, and none knew out names. The only thing we have of our family is this�" Remus tugged out his bulla. As the small locket fell free of the boy's clothing, Numitor gasped. Battered and worn, the bulla was still familiar. His daughter's profile could be seen, and Numitor stumbled forward to grab the boy's arms. Within hours Numitor, Romulus and Remus had pieced most of the story - Numitor knew of the disgraced Vestal thrown into the Tiber twelve years earlier. Now he realised it was Rhea. Tears poured down his face as he mourned her loss. For all these years he had stayed away, fearing for her safety if he tried to reclaim his throne. Remus and Romulus were filled with rage. Their father's blood pounded in their veins and they demanded vengeance. Although a year still remained before they would be men, already they stood tall as men of twenty, broad and well-muscled. With Rhea dead, Numitor agreed, and they set out for Alba Longa. When the three men rode into the town people recognised Numitor, welcoming him with joy. Amulius was a hard ruler, unfair and vicious. By the time they reached the palace, a mob of thousands marched at their backs. The shouted call of "Amulius," rolled off the stone walls like thunder. Eventually the king appeared, dressed in armour and carrying a sword. Despite being unarmed, the two boys sprang at his, swift as wolves. They harried his every strike, dancing out of reach as he swung and then returning to pummel and grab at his arms. Before long, they weighed him down, and he fell to the ground. Romulus and Remus wrestled the sword from him and together they struck off his head. Numitor was returned to his throne, and the people rejoiced. Within days Numitor heard rumours of a wood-god living in the forrest nearby. The people called her Queen of the Forrest, or Rhea Silvia. Hopeful, the king left offerings to her at her altar, often lingering for a while. One night, as the full moon bathed the stone in silver, she came to him. His daughter, made a goddess of the forrest by Tiberinus and Vesta. Numitor's joy knew no bounds. For some years the boys stayed in Alba Longa, but soon they became bored - fierce and wild, they found the city too calm. They needed a challenge. Exasperated, Numitor told them to go and build their own city, so they did! They returned to Faustulus's home and decided to build a wonderful castle near where he'd found them. A monument to their mother. About it would rise a city to rival all others. Unfortunately, they could not agree where exactly to start - atop Palatine Hill or Capitoline Hill. Eventually they started building on both places. But it wasn't long before another fight broke out - this time Remus jeered at the height of Romulus's walls, claiming they were low enough for a babe to crawl over. Romulus, busy digging the foundations for the gate, dropped his pick axe and yelled insults back at Remus. The young men then started to fight - punches and kicks flew, but they were evenly matched. For hours they raged back and forth, neither gaining any ground. Finally, tired, they stopped, and turned away from each other. Still furious with his brother, Romulus grabbed his pick axe and stalked back towards his city. Remus, always one to get in the last word, tossed a final insult as he left. Without thinking, Romulus swung about and threw the pick axe at his brother. Horrified, he saw it fly through the air and strike Remus's forehead. Crying out, Romulus ran back and grabbed his brother's lifeless body, shaking it and calling out to him. But there was no answer. For two days Romulus sat there holding his brother. Finally, his tears dried, his grief heavy within his heart, he gathered up the body and carried Remus up to the top of Capitoline Hill. Mad with sorrow, he laid the body down and rampaged through the city, tearing it down. When all lay in ruins, Romulus collected up some rocks and created a huge cairn within which he entombed his brother. He then sat on the cairn and grieved. One night, as the sun set, Romulus heard a voice on the wind. "Those walls are still too short, you jackass." His brother was right. Spurred on, Romulus collected the stone lying scattered about and used it to strengthen the walls of the city he named Rome. Many people came to live in Rome, and Romulus became a great king. When he finally died Mars gathered up his soul and took him to Olympus and made him a god - Quirinus.
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