By Genn McMenemy of Ancient History Fangirls
This is the story of Paculla Annia. She wasn’t a queen – well, not in the typical sense – but she wielded the power of a god. Paculla Annia was a high priestess of the god Dionysus and in 186 BC she made the Roman Senate shake in their togas!
The Greek god Dionysus was the god of wine, theatre, revelry, orgies, religious ecstasy, underdogs and revolutions (editor’s note: our kind of god). He came to Rome following the path of the ancient wine trade in the Mediterranean, carried by Greek immigrants and enslaved people. In Rome, Dionysus came to be known as the Roman god Bacchus, and his religion was referred to as “the Bacchic mysteries.”
In 186 BC the Roman Senate was so afraid of the Bacchic mysteries that they outlawed gatherings of Bacchic worshippers greater than 5 or more people. They disbanded the state-run cult of Bacchus and refused to allow the religion a treasury. Every god in ancient Rome had their own treasury, so to strip all funding for the worship of Bacchus was a huge dick move. The worship of Bacchus was a big deal and it gave the Senate and the upper echelons of Rome a lot to fear.
The ancient Roman Senate were particularly terrified of this religion because it gave an awful lot of power to women. To be initiated into the Bacchic rites, you had to be a woman. Once a year, Bacchic priestesses and their followers—the Maenads—snuck off into the woods, carrying torches and communing with Bacchus through a heady mix of wine, dancing, cymbal-clashing, noise, probably recreational drugs and definitely orgies (editors note: seriously, how do we join this religion?).
Here’s what these ribald celebrations would have looked like back in ancient times, according to A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities by William Smith (drawing from Livy and Plato):
‘At first only women were initiated, and the orgies were celebrated every year for three days. Matrons alternately performed the functions of priests.,,. dressed as Bacchae, with dishevelled hair and burning torches in their hands, [they] ran down to the Tiber and plunged their torches into the water; the torches, however, containing sulphur and chalk, were not extinguished. Men who refused to take part in the crimes of these orgies were frequently thrown into dark caverns and despatched, while the perpetrators declared that they had been carried off by the gods. Among the number of the members of these mysteries, were, at the time when they were suppressed, persons of all classes; and during the last two years, nobody had been initiated who was above the age of twenty years, as this age was thought most fit for seduction and sensual pleasure.’
Traditionally, the cult of Dionysus was open only to women. But at some point prior to 186 BC, a new high priestess came into power: Paculla Annia. We don’t know a lot about her, but we do know that she had control over the biggest Bacchic celebrations in Rome at this time and may have determined how the religion was carried out throughout the Roman peninsula and beyond.
Paculla Annia ushered in some changes. One of those changes was to allow men into the Bacchic orgies. But not just any men. By 184 BC, only young, attractive men were being inducted into the cult. These men could be from any level of society, from enslaved people to Senators’ sons.
But remember, women ran this cult—they were the priestesses. Frequently these were older women—say, over the age of 20. And they could also be from any level of society. Part of the worship of Bacchus involved orgies, and the older women inducted these younger men into those rites as well.
So younger men, including Senators’ sons, were being led by, taught by, and “sexually corrupted” (as the Roman patriarchs would have seen it) by older Roman women, including those from lower classes of society. These women were able to exert control and influence over these young men. They had power over how they worshipped their god. It’s a real reversal from the strict patriarchy of ancient Rome.
Paculla Annia also introduced other changes that made the Bacchic religion more visible in Roman society, and possibly more violent. For instance, she determined that instead of just once a year, the Bacchic rites would be held five days in every month—and at night, rather than during the day, which made the rituals seem more mysterious and ominous to ruling Roman men (who weren’t allowed to participate). According to the ancient sources, she made “wine-fuelled violence and sexual promiscuity mandatory for all initiates.”
Here’s how William Smith describes Paculla Annia’s reign in A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities:
‘It was from the time that these orgies were carried on after this new plan that, according to the statement of an eye-witness, licentiousness and crimes of every description were committed… The initiated . . . did not only indulge in feasting and drinking at their meetings, but when their minds were heated with wine, they indulged in the coarsest excesses and the most unnatural vices…But crimes did not remain confined to these meetings; for false witnesses, forgeries, false wills, and denunciations proceeded from this focus of crime. Poison and assassination were carried on under the cover of the society; and the voices of those who had been fraudulently drawn into these orgies would cry out against the shameless practices, were drowned by the shouts of the Bacchantes and the deafening sounds of drums and cymbals.‘
This quote largely demonstrates the deepest fears of Rome’s ruling class: that not only were people getting their fuck on at these festivals, they were also plotting assassinations and poisonings of prominent men—and forging wills as well.
Roman Senators feared that their own sons, servants, and enslaved workforce, influenced by these wild Bacchic priestesses, were changing the wills of their own fathers and masters, and plotting their deaths under the cover of clashing music and singing. They feared that these late-night orgies were just a cover for plotting to overthrow the patriarchy.
The Senate became so afraid of what was going on at these Bacchanalias that they saw shutting them down as a matter of utmost importance. But they couldn’t just cancel the cult—that would have caused an uprising. They needed a whistleblower to make all the things the Bacchic worshippers were doing public – drag it out into the light and expose the cult as a threat to the traditional Roman way of life.
They found their whistleblower in Hispala Faecenia, a sex worker and an ex-Maenad. She gave testimony that sent shockwaves throughout Roman society. We don’t know what the Roman Senators may have had over her to make her turn whistleblower. It is possible that her testimony might have been a convenient fabrication, it could have been legit, or it could have been as a result of blackmail. Sadly the ancient sources don’t elaborate for us – so all we can do is speculate.
Hispala Faecenia described all these violent, sexy, secret Bacchic rites in vivid detail. She spilled the dirt on the cult and gave the Senate the excuse they needed to bring the hammer down on Bacchus’ worshippers throughout Rome.
So, in 186 BC, the Roman Senate rounded up all the priests, priestesses and initiates of the Bacchic mysteries for trial. No one was allowed to leave Italy, but many fled anyway to avoid being caught up in the purge. Some who couldn’t escape committed suicide. The city emptied out quickly as over 7,000 people were put on trial. Many were executed, and some were turned over to their husbands for punishment. Things got real dark real fast.
Afterward, the cult of Bacchus was disbanded. But it wasn’t disbanded entirely. Bacchus was still a god, after all—and the Senate didn’t want to make him too angry. So they allowed the most ancient statues and temples of Bacchus to stand. And they allowed the cult to go on—with some significant changes.
For instance, Bacchus was still an important fertility god worshipped by farmers. Under the new rules, farmers were still allowed to hold Bacchic ceremonies for a good harvest. But they had to jump through a lot of hoops.
First they had to apply to a praetor, who would then ask a senate of 100 members to decide if they could go ahead with their worship. And then, assuming that they agreed to the request (or the farmer could afford to bribe them), a Bacchic ceremony could be held. But it couldn’t have more than five people attending—and no priestess or priest. The senate had outlawed priests and priestesses of Bacchus.
And you could see why. These priests and priestesses had a lot of power. The worship of Bacchus had to be carefully measured and guarded to keep women, enslaved people, and those from the lower ranks of society from overthrowing the patriarchal order.
But Bacchus—Dionysus—was the god of underdogs, and he would not be denied. People continued to worship him, underground and in secret—and enslaved people from other parts of the Mediterranean world carried him with them when they were brought to Rome.
So Dionysus continued to thrive—until over a century later, he inspired Spartacus and his followers to rise up and challenge the order of the Roman Republic.
Links:
Ancient History Fangirl: http://www.ancienthistoryfangirl.com/
Dionysus / Paculla Annia episode: http://www.ancienthistoryfangirl.com/2020/03/19/dionysus-religion-of-revolutions/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/AncientHistFan
Insta: https://www.instagram.com/ancienthistoryfangirl/?hl=en