Thursday, January 29, 2026

Saintly Deities

Around December every year neo-pagans delight in posting on social media that “Christmas is a pagan festival” derived from the Roman celebration of Saturnalia. For the record, it is not. Christmas is very definitely a Christian festival whose name literally means “a mass for Christ”. Yet, perhaps because of the proximity of the dates, the popularity of Saturnalia did survive into the third and fourth centuries AD, and then later as a secular celebration long after it was removed from the official calendar (Salzman, 2007, 121.). As the Roman Empire became Christianised, some of the “pagan” customs influenced the seasonal celebrations surrounding Christmas and the New Year (Beard, North and Price, 1998, 124). As William Warde Fowler [1] wrote: “[Saturnalia] has left its traces and found its parallels in great numbers of medieval and modern customs, occurring about the time of the winter solstice” (Fowler, 1908, 271). Indeed, many western European Christians continued the traditional Saturnalia customs such as feasting and gift-giving while also celebrating Christmas and its associated holidays. Afterall, midwinter was a time to eat, drink, and be merry.

The [superficial] similarities between Saturnalia customs and those that continued and still contribute to Christmas festivities today piqued Tastes Of History’s curiosity about other related connections. As the ancient pantheon of deities gave way to the One God of the “Abrahamic religions”, what happened to all those gods and goddesses? Did they wake one morning only to discover they were out of a job? Did they simply fade into obscurity as fewer people revered them or even remembered them? Or have they survived, albeit in a revised form, in much the same manner as our very ancient midwinter festivities have been absorbed or accepted as part of the modern Christmas?

It is fairly evident that Christianity, and especially the Catholic Church, has very deep roots in the ancient Roman world. This should not be surprising as the early church was undoubtedly influenced by the institutions around it and would have wanted to feel familiar to converts to the fledgling religion. Thus, the Catholic Church’s structure, traditions and even vestments have clear antecedents in Roman religion. If one needed an example, the term pontiff is still used to refer to the head of the Roman Catholic church. In ancient Rome, however, a pontiff (Latin: pontifex; “high priest” from a root meaning “bridge-maker”) was a member of the most illustrious college of priests in Roman religion, namely the College of Pontiffs. As Christianity was embraced in Rome, and later across its empire, “pontiff” was the title given to the bishops of the early Church. While it remains accurate to call any Catholic bishop a pontiff, most Catholics today reserve the word for the Bishop of Rome, otherwise known as the Pope [2]. Even with so many shared roots, Christianity is obviously distinct from the earlier “pagan”, polytheistic Roman beliefs.

Threesome

Principal amongst all the deities worshipped by the Romans was the Capitoline Triad. This trio consisted of Jupiter, the supreme god of the Roman pantheon and head of the triad, and two goddesses, namely Juno his consort and Minerva his daughter. Like many things Roman, the triad was probably adopted from the Etruscans whom the Romans had largely conquered by 264 BC; the last Etruscan cities being formally absorbed into Rome by 27 BC. The supreme triad of gods in the Etruscan pantheon consisted of Tinia, Uni, and Menrva, who clearly matched Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva (their Greek counterparts are Zeus, Hera, and Athena). The Capitoline Triad occupied an important place in the public religion of Rome, and temples dedicated to them were built in various parts of the Roman world. The grouping of three gods, usually by importance or similar roles, has parallels in many religious contexts. Triads of three closely associated deities are commonly found throughout history, especially in the religious traditions of ancient Greece and Egypt but also in Norse mythology (Odin, Thor and Freyr), Hinduism (for example Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva (Trimurti) in Puranic Hinduism or Mitra, Aryaman, and Varuna in early Vedic Hinduism), Buddhism (the Sahā Triad of Shakyamuni, Avalokitesvara and Ksitigarbha), and many more. In most cases a triad of gods were usually not considered to be one in the same being or different aspects of a single deity such as in a Trinity or Triple deity. The Christian doctrine of the Trinity (Latin: Trinitas, lit. ”triad”, from Latin: trinus “threefold”) differs in this respect defining God as one being existing in three co-equal, co-eternal, consubstantial persons: God the Father, God the Son (Jesus Christ) and God the Holy Spirit. For Christians these three distinct persons share one essence. Within Christianity, therefore, an omnipotent Trinity meant there was no need to retain the numerous gods and goddesses of earlier times.

Religion was an essential part of daily life in ancient Rome. It helped Romans make sense of things both good and bad. Natural disasters or lost battles were believed to be evidence that the gods were unhappy. When things went well, then the opposite was true and the gods clearly favoured Rome. So, what follows is a list of the most frequently encountered ancient Roman deities together with their realm(s) of influence. Some gods and goddesses may be familiar because the Romans appropriated them from Greek mythology, so their Greek counterparts are in parentheses. Certain deities, however, are peculiar to the Romans having no Greek equivalent. For example, Volturnus the Roman god of water is represented in Greek mythology by several gods and goddesses. In most cases the deity’s name was changed when rendered in Latin, Apollo being one exception, while some names vary slightly in spelling (Ouranos to Uranus, Herakles to Hercules). Furthermore, in the two mythologies the gods may possess or represent different traits. It is not an exhaustive list by any means as there were many more minor deities and spirits venerated or worshipped by the highly superstitious Romans. One example were the household lemures who were malevolent spirits the Romans believed to be the restless souls of the dead who had not receive proper burial rites and were feared for their potential to harm the living.

Alongside the Graeco-Roman deity’s name and sphere of influence is a third column suggesting a corresponding Catholic saint who, on the surface at least, seems to perpetuate a most ancient practice. It is notable that with six entries, Saint Francis of Assissi is doing a lot of the heavy lifting. Others of mention are Saint George and Saint Michael the Archangel with four entries each, and Saints Ignatius of Loyola and Gerard Majella both with three. So, where one can no longer call on Fortuna to bring good luck, then perhaps an entreaty to Saint Cajetan might do the trick. Similarly, caring for or watching over children might be assisted with prayers to the man who inspired Santa Claus himself, Saint Nicholas of Myra, and every February Saint Valentine could be called upon to ensure love is in the air. All of which is not to belittle belief in the saints or make fun of someone’s religious convictions. It is, however, intriguing that human nature seems hard-wired not to forsake the old ways but rather to assimilate them into new beliefs and practices. Perhaps we do prefer continuity to change.

Hopefully this comparative exercise has been of some interest. We cannot stress enough that no offence is intended. We were simply intrigued by the apparent parallels, and what this might say about us and our enduring beliefs. Bon appétit!

References:

Beard, M., North, J.A. and Price, S.R.F. (1998), “Religions of Rome: A Sourcebook” vol. 2, Cambridge University Press.

Fowler, W.W., (1908), “The Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic”, London, p. 271.

Salzman, M.R., (2007), “Religious Koine and Religious Dissent”, in “A Companion to Roman Religion”, Blackwell, p. 121.

Endnotes:

1. William Warde Fowler (May 16th, 1847 - June 15th, 1921) was an English historian and ornithologist, and tutor at Lincoln College, Oxford. He was best known for his influential works on ancient Roman religion, specifically “The Roman Festivals of the Period of the Republic” (1899).

2. The word pope derives from Ancient Greek πάππας (páppas) meaning “father”. In the early centuries of Christianity, the title was applied, especially in the East, to all bishops and other senior clergy. Later in the West, during the reign of Pope Leo I (AD 440 to AD 461), it became reserved for the Bishop of Rome. This distinction was made official in the 11th-century.

Wednesday, January 21, 2026

About History: Othismos and the ancient Greek phalanx

By the 7th-century BC the Greek city-states had adopted the phalanx (pl. phalanxes) as their fighting formation. Armoured hoplites (Greek: ὁπλῖται, hoplitai; sing. ὁπλίτης hoplitēs) formed up in close-order, shoulder-to-shoulder, their shields locked together. The first few ranks of men would project their spears beyond the first rank of shields. The phalanxes advanced towards each other usually at walking pace to maintain cohesion. If the formation was lost, the phalanx would be weakened or rendered useless. It is possible, however, that the hoplites picked up the pace, perhaps breaking into a run during the last few metres. The additional speed needed to be sufficient to gain momentum against the enemy in the initial collision. The famous charge of Athenian hoplites at the Battle of Marathon (490 BC), however, was probably precipitated by a desire to minimize their losses to Persian archery.

Orthodoxy  According to the orthodox view of othismos (“pushing”), the opposing phalanxes would collide, possibly breaking many of the front rank’s spears while attempting to maim or kill the opposing front rank. If one side did not collapse because of this clash, then the men in the succeeding ranks pressed their large round shields (Greek: ἀσπίς, aspis; pl. ἀσπίδες, aspides) against the backs of the men in front and pushed them forward. The combined physical onslaught of one densely packed mass of men was opposed by the counterthrust of the enemy phalanx, shield against shield. Eventually, one side was forced back and its formation disrupted, the hoplites perhaps being literally knocked over and trampled. There was little or no actual fighting after the initial, very brief clash of spears and the struggle essentially became a decisive pushing match (Hanson, 1989, 169). Indeed, Thucydides described hoplite warfare as othismos aspidon or “the push of shields”. As a rule, with few recorded exceptions, the deeper phalanx would almost always win. The orthodox model of collision and push (othimos) has been likened to a scrum in rugby or the scrimmage in American football. This is the view championed by V.D. Hanson in his detailed examination of hoplite warfare.

Evidence?  Yet, no ancient Greek historian explicitly tells us that othismos involved all ranks packing together in a united push to drive their enemy physically backward. Despite this omission, we know hoplite phalanxes were deployed with a series of ranks behind the first. It seems very rare for a phalanx to be less than eight ranks deep from the available evidence, and much deeper formations were not uncommon. Most hoplites in the phalanx, therefore, were unable to reach the enemy with their spears (Greek: δόρυ, dory or doru). They might have been able to finish off fallen enemies with their spear’s butt spike (Greek: σαυρωτήρ, sarouter) and certainly gave moral support to the front rank men doing the actual fighting, but they cannot have inflicted any significant damage upon the enemy. If the othismos was a massed shove, then it would seem to explain the presence of these, otherwise largely superfluous, men on the battlefield. This is the basic tenet of the traditional view of “massed shoving” to explain the role of the rear ranks of a phalanx. Yet if this was the only purpose of successive ranks, then the larger phalanx would always win.

The literary evidence supporting the collision and pushing match is far from extensive, however. Tyrtaeus’ poetry contains a description of two opposing sides clashing “shield against round shield” as does Aristophanes’ comedic play “Peace”. Neither author names a specific battle but the use of the concept in poetry and theatre suggests audiences were familiar with battles fought this way. Beyond the arts, historical accounts of hoplite engagements refer to a press of shields. At the Battle of Delium in 424 BC, Thucydides describes how the two sides collided at the run and fought with a “pushing of shields”. Likewise, during the Battle of Mantinea (418 BC) he also described how the Spartans “advanced” and “pressed” the opposing Argive and Arcadian hoplites routing them, yet it is unclear whether this was shield-to-shield (Thucydides, “History of the Peloponnesian War”, 5.73). In his account Hellenica, Xenophon states that during the later stages of the Battle of Coronea in 394 BC, the Theban and Spartan phalanxes collided head-on at the run and were similarly pressed “shield against shield” (Matthews, 2009, 397). Yet Xenophon and others also use a variation of the term “shield pressed against shield” to describe a close-order shield wall. In these instances, it is clear the phalanxes were not engaged with an enemy, merely waiting to receive an attack. 

Tyrtaeus’ suggestion that hoplites “reach forth and strike the foe” evokes the idea that hoplite combat being conducted at spear’s length from the enemy. Descriptions of battles, for example those of Plataea (479 BC), Sphacteria (425 BC) and Piraeus (404 BC), all record one side being “pushed” or “pressed back” but in a figurative sense. Xenophon employs this sense in his work Hellenica where he describes how the Thebans “pressed” the Spartans at the Battle of Leuctra fought on July 6th, 371 BC (Xenophon, Hellenica, 6.4.14). In these instances, the phalanxes need not have been shield-to-shield, rather the overwhelmed side may simply have been forced backward at the spearpoints of their opponents. Alternatively, as on the island of Sphacteria, when the Athenians engaged the Spartans at range with skirmishers and peltasts [1], the heavily armoured Spartans were pinned in place and could not close to hand-to-hand fighting (Matthews, 2009, 399). The earlier Battle of Thermopylae (480 BC) had ended in a similar manner for the 300 Spartan, 700 Thespian and 400 Theban hoplites defending the famous pass. On the third day, as the Persian Immortals approached, the Greeks withdrew and took a stand on a hill behind the Phocian wall that defended the narrowest part of the pass. Herodotus says:

“In that place they defended themselves with swords, if they still had them, and with hands and teeth. The barbarians buried them with missiles, some attacking from the front and throwing down the defensive wall, others surrounding them on all sides.” (Herodotus, Histories, 7.225.3)

Tearing down part of the wall, Xerxes ordered the hill surrounded before the Persians rained down arrows until every hoplite was dead.

As an aside, the orthodox view that phalanx warfare centred on othismos seems very akin to the “push of pike” that used to accompany re-enactments of English Civil War battles some years ago (pictured right). At that time two opposing blocks of pikemen would advance on each other with pikes levelled to threaten the “enemy”. A few metres before contact the pikes would be angled upward, and the two blocks would then crash to together in a pushing contest [2]. While this sounds very much like the description of othismos, the tactic was not historically accurate but based on health and safety concerns to limit injury to individual re-enactors while still creating a spectacle for audiences. Historically such pike blocks would have advanced to contact whereupon the leading ranks would fence with their pikes to spear their opponents - the equivalent of ancient Greek doratismos (see below).

What to do with the spear?  The hoplite phalanx dominated warfare among the Greek City States from the 7th- into the 4th-century BC. If we have interpreted phalanx warfare correctly, and it is far from clear that we have, then othismos being a shield against shield pushing match seems only half the story. The hoplite panoply, specifically the degree of protection it provides, is far better suited to fighting with spears. During this period the men equipped themselves with a large round shield (aspis) and a 2.1 m to 2.7 m (7–9 ft) long spear (doru or dory) with a sharpened iron blade (aichme) and bronze butt-spike (sauroter). Practical experimentation based on contemporary representations has determined the most likely manner in which hoplites fought. Within the phalanx each man stood at an angle, their left shoulder braced into the dished bowl of their shield while refusing the other shoulder to protect the vulnerable right side of the body while maintaining the ability to deliver spear thrusts (van Wees, 2000, 128-30). This fighting stance positions the feet and legs in a strong attacking platform but also means the hoplite is braced in defence to resist a clash of shields. The latter fits well with the orthodox view of othismos which sees successive hoplites pushing their shields against the right shoulder or back of the man in front. Yet, with his opponent’s shield pressed against his own, the hoplite would be pinned between his comrades and his enemies, vulnerable and unable to strike with his spear. This lack of manoeuvrability among those in close contact is rather neatly captured in the attempt by modern re-enactors to perform othismos pictured below. The image also shows how the cohesiveness of both front ranks might quickly dissolve and how striking with a spear becomes almost hopeless.

So, if the tactic was for two opposing phalanxes to crash into each other and simply push shield-to-shield, then why carry a long spear? In such close-order fighting, the dory effectively becomes an incumbrance. Far better would be to ditch the spear in favour of a shorter weapon such as the sword (xiphos or kopis) by which the hoplite could strike at his opponent from behind his protective shield. This was clearly the favoured tactic of later Roman armies where it certainly proved decisive against the Macedonian phalanx at the Battle of Cynoscephalae in 197 BC.

The Roman model also raises questions about the density of phalanx formations if hoplites were to use their weapons effectively. Thucydides’ description of the Battle of Mantinea reveals that “fear makes each man do his best to shelter his unarmed side with the shield of the man next to him on the right, thinking that the closer the shields are locked together the better he will be protected” (Thucydides, 5.71). This has been the foundation of nearly all recreations of phalanx warfare but rather unfortunately it ignores the maxim that no plan survives contact with the enemy. It can be shown throughout ancient Greek history, including Homeric period warfare, that each battlefield situation dictated the density of a formation. So, while hoplites might have sought protection from their neighbour, they would still need space both to fight and defend themselves.

Peter Krentz argues that a lack of armour for the sarissae wielding “phalangites” [3] meant that Phillip II of Macedon’s phalanxes adopted much tighter formations for added morale and physical protection. The Macedonian king also devised the hedge of sarissae that later so frightened his enemies and, under the right conditions, prevented them from penetrating close enough to do damage with their shorter spears and swords. By contrast, the classical hoplite’s head-to-foot armour instilled confidence in their protection allowing their formations to open the spacing to three feet between men (Krentz, 1985, 52). Both Krentz and van Wees argue that each hoplite thus occupied a six foot space within which they could wield their weapons effectively while limiting an opponent’s opportunities to attack his vulnerable unshielded right side. Any man attempting such an attack would have to be mindful that they were within spear thrusting range from a neighbouring opposing hoplite (van Wees, 2004, 185-186; Krentz, 1985, 51-53).

On SoA Forums, Society member Patrick Waterson described five stages characterising a hoplite battle:

1.  Ephodos (the “charge”) as previously mentioned in Thucydides’ description of the Battle of Delium, Xenonphon’s account of the Battle of Coronea, and the famous charge of the Athenians at the Battle of Marathon.

2.  Doratismos (the “spearing”) evoked by Tyrtaeus’ portrayal of hoplites “reach[ing] forth and [striking] the foe”. Once the phalanxes have closed on one another, then the first contact involved spear fighting rather than a pushing match.

3.  En chersi (the “hand-to-hand”) as evidenced by Herodotus’ account of the Battle of Thermopylae in 480 BC. The hoplites defending the Pass fought with spears, until every spear was shattered, and then switched to xiphē (short swords).

4.  Othismos (the “pushing”) only appears after all other avenues aimed at defeating or overwhelming the enemy had been exhausted. It is notable that the close-order mêlée (en chersi) precedes the shield-to-shield pushing contest (othismos) suggesting that the latter was a means by which men in the rearward files lent their weight to an otherwise static melee once the front-rank men were exhausted and no longer capable of giving their best.

5.  Trope (the “collapse”) could occur very rapidly, even at or before first contact, as indicated by the accounts of battles such as First Mantinea (418 BC).

It would be a mistake to assume all hoplite battles rigidly adhered to these five stages. Circumstance may necessitate a stage being quickly concluded, or long and drawn out, or omitted all together. As Waterson says: “two fairly evenly balanced sides may well find themselves going through all the stages until during othismos it becomes a case of ‘One more push, men, and they will break!’” Regardless, a general pattern emerges whereupon the opposing phalanxes close with each other, perhaps at the run, followed by a mêlée at spearpoint or hand-to-hand with swords. Only when those men in the leading ranks are tired or wounded and unable to effectively continue the hand-to-hand fight might any form of “pushing” contest occur. At this point fatigue might dictate that the first phalanx to yield ground would be unlikely to recover. If, as the orthodox view implies, othismos occurred much earlier when both phalanxes were fresh and invigorated, then a pushing contest might not necessarily produce one side’s collapse.

Undoubtedly this form of combat would have been both physically and mentally exhausting, so it is highly likely that natural pauses would have occurred during a prolonged battle. Such pauses would usefully allow both sides to catch their collective breath, redress their lines, recover the wounded and replace them with men drawn from the succeeding ranks. If the latter is correct, does this interpretation explain the depth of the phalanx? Rather than simply adding their weight to a pushing contest, the additional ranks might be viewed as tactical replacements.

A conclusion?  If doratismos and en chersi are correct, then having the space to wield their weapons means the pushing contest with opposing hoplites shield-to-shield, and pressed forward by their fellows in succeeding ranks, seems impractical. For othismos to occur necessitates the phalanx to transition into close-order which, for ordinary hoplites not particularly well drilled in such manoeuvres, might not be so easy to achieve especially in the press of battle. Is it, therefore, more reasonable to conclude that ancient historians used the term othismos in a more figurative sense. Indeed, Homer uses the word “othismos” in the Iliad even though most historians generally agree that Homeric warfare was fought in very loose formations (Homer, Illiad, 569, 655). Compare that style of fighting to the close-quarter, hand-to-hand mêlée of the 4th- and 5th-centuries and it strongly suggests othismos was a reference to the gradual gaining of ground by forcing - “pushing” - the enemy rearward. This may well have involved pressing forward shield-to-shield, but the primary sources never allude to one mass shove. Rather most describe how armies surged forward, step by measured step, to gain ground from an opposing force.

The evidence we have implies hoplite battles were determined by individual, hand-to-hand combats between hoplites armed with spears and subsequently swords. Once enough hoplites on one side had successfully resolved these individual contests, then they were able to coalesce and advance to “break the enemy’s ranks” before “pushing” them back until the enemy was overwhelmed and routed. Bon appétit!

References:

Hanson, V.D., (1989), “The Western Way of War”, University of California Press.

Godley, A.D. (ed.), “Herodotus: The Histories”, Perseus Digital Library, available online (accessed 9 January 2026).

Krentz, P., (1985), “The Nature of Hoplite Battle”, Classical Antiquity, Vol. 4, No. 1, University of California Press, pp. 50-61.

Matthew, C.A., (2009), “When Push Comes to Shove: What Was the ‘Othismos’ of Hoplite Combat?”, Historia: Zeitschrift Für Alte Geschichte, vol. 58, no. 4, pp. 395–415. available online (accessed 25 June 2025).

van Wees, H., (2000), “Greek warfare : myths and realities”, London: Duckworth.

Waterson, P., (2013), “Othismos - When Push Comes to Shove”, SoA Forums, available online (accessed 11 September 2025).

Endnotes:

1. A peltast (Ancient Greek: πελταστής, peltastēs) was a type of light infantry originating in Thrace and Paeonia and named after the crescent-shaped wicker shield they carried called a “pelte” (Ancient Greek πέλτη, peltē; Latin: pelta). Peltasts often served as skirmishers in Hellenistic armies.

2. This was the author’s first experience of a battle re-enactment where the pike blocks engaged in rugby-like scrummaging. In more recent times, regiments in the English Civil War Society (ECWS) now portray pikemen fencing with their pikes in more historically accurate manner.

3. Philip II of Macedon, equipped his Macedonian “phalangites” with a long spear or pike (Koine Greek: σάρισσα sarissa, pl. sarissae) about 5 m to 7 m (16 to 23 ft) in length. These longer spears improved the strength of the phalanx by extending the rows of overlapping weapons projecting towards the enemy which, in turn, kept the latter at a greater distance. After the conquests of Alexander the Great, sarissae became the mainstay during the Hellenistic era (4th– to 1st-centuries BC) by the armies of the successor states of Alexander's empire, as well as some of their rivals.