12 February 2026

Death from a Roman Perspective

Mercury by Caraglio (1526)
Ancient Romans tended towards to a wide array of afterlife possibilities, as to which see Roman Beliefs Regarding the Afterlife. For an exploration of the major Roman deities of death see Dis Pater and Proserpina, Hecate in the Roman Tradition – Trivia of the Crossroads and The Nature of Mercury. Localised deities of death include:
  • Benevolent spirits The Di Manes are protecting, or at least friendly, spirits of the dead. Suitable offerings to Di Manes include salted grain/wheat, bread/wheat soaked in wine and violets, incense and wine. Some Di Manes may be ancestral spirits, in which case they may be known as Di Parentes and worshipped as such. Alternately, offerings for their well being in the after-life may be made. “The Roman house itself was the centre of family and private religion. In richer and middle-ranking houses a common feature was a shrine of the household gods – now conventionally known as a lararium … these shrines contained paintings or statuettes of household gods and other deities; they might also include (in a wealthier house) commemoration of the family’s ancestors”: Beard et al at 4.12. Between 13 February and 21 February ancient Romans traditionally honoured their dead, especially the ancestral dead; this was the Parentalia. On the final day ritual offerings were made at family tombs. See Ovid’s Fasti, especially the entry for 21 February, for more. Ancestor veneration can extend to Gods as well, for example, the family of the Julii claimed divine descent from Venus and so worshipped her as a divine ancestor.
  • Lares and Penates According to one school of thought the Lares (protecting spirits of place), and/or the Penates (protecting the household provisions or stores-cupboard), are also protective ancestral spirits. On the other hand, it may be that the Lares (and the Penates) are without ancestral connection, but are instead animistic spirits of the land (and in the case of the Penates, the food stores) on which the household of a family rests. Ancient Roman sources suggest conflicting ideas about the original nature of the Lares and the Penates (as regards whether or not they are ancestral spirits), but attributing ancestry to the Lares and/or Penates may make sense if a family has lived and died on the same land for generations. In Germanic polytheism we know that people buried in burial mounds were thought to become spirits connected with the land, and it is possible that ancient Romans shared a similar view of their own dead, in which case the Lares could be both ancestral spirits and spirits of place. Whether or not these ancestral spirits of the land are capable of being ritually moved to lands unconnected with where they once lived is open to interpretation. On the other hand, the famous story of Aeneas fleeing Troy with statues of the Penates suggests that the family Penates, if not the Lares, can be moved from one region to another.
  • Malevolent spirits The Di Manes stand in contrast to Lemures, also called Larvae, who are malevolent spirits of the dead. Suitable offerings to propitiate Lemures (and ritually ask them to leave your residence) include black beans. See Ovid’s Fasti (9 May) for more on expelling unfriendly ghosts from a property.
Roman funerary customs
Much of what we know about ancient Roman funerary customs relate to the aristocratic dead. Lying in state and elaborate funeral processions are more than most of us can expect. For ordinary Romans we know that their bodies would typically be either buried or cremated outside the walls of the city, alongside personal items such as jewellery, eating and drinking vessels, pottery, dice, toys, etc. Where they were wealthy enough to have tombstones it was not uncommon for the information inscribed thereon to include information about the deceased that would be offbeat by today’s standards. A husband might praise his wife’s virtues and list them, or a child’s personality would be described, or the reader might be encouraged to live life to the full (“do not refrain from the pleasures of love”), or the deceased might proclaim his or her belief in the philosophical teachings of Epicurus (“I didn’t exist, I did exist, I don’t exist, I have no cares”). It was important to many Romans that they be afforded proper funeral rites, and we know that even people of modest wealth, including slaves, joined funeral clubs to ensure a decent funeral (yet many others died impecunious and were either buried in a mass grave or burnt at a public crematorium). This was not just about ensuring dignity after death, appropriate funeral rites were thought to improve one’s prospects in the afterlife, including minimising the chance of departed spirits becoming lemures – malevolent spirits of the dead.

Professor Toynbee writes:
“All Roman funerary practice was influenced by two basic notions – first, that death brought pollution and demanded from the survivors acts of purification … secondly, that to leave a corpse unburied had unpleasant repercussions on the fate of the departed soul … When death was imminent relations and close friends gathered round the dying person’s bed to comfort and support him or her … The nearest relative present … closed the departed’s eyes … The next act was to take the body … and to wash it and anoint it. Then followed the dressing of the corpse … the laying of a wreath on its head, particularly in the case of a person who had earned one in life, and the placing of a coin in the mouth to pay the deceased’s fare in Charon’s barque … the great majority of people in the Roman world were laid to rest in tombs of very varied types strung along the roads beyond the city gates [it was considered both sacrilegious and inauspicious to build a home and hence live near the place of the dead] … As regards inhumations, the poor were laid directly in the earth … the moderately well to do [were placed] in less elaborate sarcophagi … [As regards cremation, the] burning of the corpse, and of the couch on which it lay, took place either at the place in which the ashes were to be buried … or at a place specially reserved for cremations … The eyes of the corpse were opened when it was placed on the pyre, along with various gifts and some of the deceased’s personal possessions. Sometimes even pet animals were killed round the pyre to accompany the soul into the afterlife. The relatives and friends then called upon the dead by name for the last time: the pyre was kindled with torches; and after the corpse had been consumed the ashes were drenched with wine. The burnt bones and ashes of the body were collected by the relatives and placed in receptacles … According to their nature and the status of the dead whose remains they held, these receptacles could be either set up free standing inside … tombs, … or … placed in the niches and recesses in the walls of columbaria … or … they could be buried in the earth … [Toynbee at 43-50]”
Professor Scheid adds:
“In a ceremony observed by more or less all families, the bodies of the deceased were taken to a cemetery situated outside the city, stretching along the roads leading out of town and particularly clustering near the gates. At country houses, the cemetery was found at the boundary of the occupied land or at the side of a nearby road. The funeral rites were celebrated in the necropolis, in front of the tomb … After a period in archaic times when cremation was favoured, the prevailing fashion in the sixth century BC came to be burial. In the first century BC cremation again became widespread – before giving way to burial once more in the second half of the second century. These variations did not [seem to] depend on any particular shift in belief, but were somehow linked to developments within traditional practice … even in cases of cremation, it was still customary to bury what was left of the body, so that a tomb existed according to sacred law. All that changed was the destroying of the corpse … Sometimes that task was left to fire, sometimes to the earth … [The funeral ritual, which typically included the sacrifice of a pig or other animal victim, proclaimed the status of the dead as one of the Di Manes – protecting spirits of the dead] and the offerings made to the deceased and to his manes (wine, oil, perfumes) were burnt … on the pyre or in a fire next to the tomb. The relatives of the deceased did not share this meal, thereby marking the distance that now separated them from the dead … When the fire was extinguished, the bones and ashes were collected up, washed in wine, and placed in an urn, which was deposited in the tomb … During the period of mourning, the family of the dead person was considered ‘soiled’ (funestatus) and its members adopted a degraded and disheveled appearance. They wore dark clothes and stopped combing their hair and shaving … once funeral rites had been celebrated, the mourning family gradually returned to normal life … This set of rites varied from one period to another, and from one place to another … although the ritual was very similar for all families, particularly in the same period and the same region, it was never absolutely identical. Each paterfamilias decided for himself which customs to observe and, in doing so, would obey family traditions rather than prescriptions laid down by the priests … these rituals produced countless variants while remaining within the framework of a common tradition … [Scheid at 167-169]”
While ancient Romans practiced both burial and cremation, note that for people of especial note (such as emperors) cremation appears to have been an important element in the process of undergoing apotheosis. This seems to be because, along with the smoke from the funeral pyre, the spirit of the dead person was thought to rise to the celestial realm, where many of the greatest Gods reside. Cicero throws some light on this:
“... all those who have protected or assisted the fatherland, or increased its greatness, have a special place reserved for them in heaven, where they may enjoy perpetual happiness … it is from heaven that the rulers and preservers of the cities come, and it is to heaven that they eventually return [Cicero, cited in Beard et al at 220-221].”
Roman mourning traditions
After proper funeral rites had been observed the dead were thought to join the Di Manes (protecting spirits of the dead – usually ancestors) and as such offerings could be made to them thereafter at their tombs outside the city, especially during the important festival of the Parentalia (13-21 February). Usual offerings included wine, food and flowers, including wreaths. Amongst the wealthy a wax likeness of the dead might be made and placed in a wooden shrine in “the most conspicuous position of the house” (Polybius, cited in Warrior at 33). Until the time of the funeral, which was usually a week or so after the death, the bereaved family oftentimes deliberately did not wash or care for themselves; they wore dark clothes, did not shave or comb their hair and withdrew completely from public life (Scheid at 168-169). After the funeral the family went through a purification rite involving water and fire, and the sweeping of the house with a broom, but this did not signal the end of the mourning period altogether. There were longer designated mourning periods and those who failed to observe them were “placed in public disgrace” (Paulus, cited in Shelton at 94):
  • Parents and children over six were expected to be mourned for a year.
  • Children under six were expected to be mourned for a month (though it is very doubtful that such a death was recovered from so swiftly, even while infant mortality was so sadly common).
  • A husband was mourned for ten months. How long a late wife was mourned for is unclear but it appears that in general women (widowed or not) were expected to mourn more deeply and for longer than their menfolk, who were expected to be more stoic.
  • Close blood relations were expected to be mourned for eight months.
During these months of mourning people were expected to avoid parties, and the wearing of jewellery and luxurious items. What the mourning period was like (for some) is immortalised in this beautiful letter written by Cicero to his close friend around a month after the death of his adult daughter:
“I have isolated myself, in this lonely region, from all human conversation. In the morning I hide myself in the dense impenetrable forest and don’t emerge until nightfall. Next to you, solitude is my best friend. My only form of communication now is through books, but even my reading is interrupted by fits of weeping. I resist as best I can these urges to cry, but I am not yet strong enough [cited in Shelton at 123].”
Suggestions for mourning, after the funeral
There is clearly no particular way that anyone should or must mourn, but drawing from some of the above (and from personal experience) some or none of what follows may be helpful:
  • Give oneself permission and a distinct period of time to mourn. One way to do this might be to assign oneself a flexible time period for “deep mourning”. It may be that for those of us who must put on a stiff upper lip and go to work only weeks after our loss we segment our grief – at work we are in light mourning, while at other times we are in deep mourning. 
  • Buy and wear black or dark clothes, and avoid wearing bright colours.
  • Avoid parties and large celebratory gatherings for a period of time.
  • Set up a space dedicated to the lost loved one (in the home or elsewhere); this might be a place where you light a candle, or even make other offerings.
  • Think of ways to pay tribute to the life of a loved one – have a work of art made in their honour, or a beautiful tombstone created, or whatever you think will pay fitting homage.
Eventually, after months or years, the time comes when mourning must cease. It is said that in Hades the dead drink the waters of Lethe so that they forget their lives. They do this, some say, so they can move towards their next life without going mad. It can be the same for the living too. When mourning is a cathartic mixture agony and release it feels healthy, but constantly living in a world of ghosts and regret can become maddening, like a wound that won't heal because it is picked at too often, and so the suffering must be buried deep in the heart. 

Shadows of the Dying by Burden Man

Sources
This post is drawn from is largely derived from two pages from my other website, which recently became defunct due to sign-in problems. That content was in turn originally sourced from two blog entries: Pagan Funeral Rites and Western Mourning Traditions. These posts also cover Celtic, Germanic and traditional Christian customs. The books and websites I sourced from include:
  • Beard M, North J and Price S, Religions of Rome: Volume 2: A Sourcebook, Cambridge
  • Encyclopaedia Britannica
  • newworldencyclopedia.org
  • romanpagan.blogspot.com
  • Scheid J, An Introduction to Roman Religion, Indiana University Press
  • Shelton J, As the Romans Did: A Sourcebook in Roman Social History (2nd ed), Oxford
  • Smith, A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities, penelope.uchicago.edu
  • Toynbee J, Death and Burial in the Roman World, Cornell University Press
  • Warrior V, Roman Religion, Cambridge University Press
  • Warrior V, Roman Religion: A Sourcebook, Focus.


Written by M’ Sentia Figula (aka Freki). Find me at neo polytheist

No comments:

Post a Comment