What do Chaucer and werewolves have to do with Valentines Day? After reading this, you may reconsider your feelings toward this holiday, or at the very least, discover some reasons it may not be such a bad thing to be without a Valentine this year.
We can begin tracking the origins of Valentines Day, vaguely, in ancient Egypt. Men and women of the lower classes determined their marital partners by the drawing of lots. This happened in mid-February, though its association with the holiday we know now is possibly no more than coincidental. This does add a bit more solemnity to the phrase “luck of the draw,” however.
And now, on to werewolves:
In prehistoric societies, the wolf charmer was a fellow who had a particular affinity for communicating with wolves. A wolf whisperer, one could say. As these ancient tribes developed agriculture and settled in small villages, it became necessary to have a person skilled in singing with the wolves in order to convince them not to attack the villages’ domesticated animals. The wolf charmer had the ability to howl with the wolves and lead them away from the livestock pens. In some stories, the wolf charmer also had the power to transform himself into a wolf if he so desired.
These beliefs continued through history to our arrival in the times of the ancient Greeks and Romans, amongst whom the wolf charmer was called the Lupicinus.
Lupus, meaning wolf, is not an original Latin word, but was borrowed from the Sabine dialect. The Sabines were a nearby people, and in the very early days of Rome, when they found their male population far too heavily outnumbered their female, they raided the Sabines for their young women, who they then took back to Rome and married off to Roman citizens.
Luperca, the she-wolf who suckled Romulus and Remus, legendary founders of Rome, was represented in a bronze statue, possibly of Etruscan origin, called the Capitoline Wolf, the presence of which was noted by such scholars as Livy, Pliny the Elder, and Cicero.
The significance of this wolf in the founding of Rome gave rise to secret fraternities known as the Luperci, who sacrificed goats at the entrances to their “wolves’ dens.” Well, now that I’ve written this, they’re not so secret anymore, are they? Difficult to hide a pile of smelly dead goats, so they were bound to be discovered at some point.
The Lupercalia festival, one of the most ancient of Roman holidays, occurred annually from February 13-15. It was a perpetuation of the ancient blooding rites of the hunter, wherein the initiate is smeared with the blood of his first kill. The sacrificial slaying of a goat represented the flocks that nourished early humans in their efforts to establish permanent dwelling places. This was followed by the sacrifice of a dog, in honor of the watchful protector of a flock that would be the first one killed by attacking wolves.
The blood of the goat and the dog were mixed, and a knife was dipped into the blood and drawn across the foreheads of two noble-born children, possibly representative of Romulus and Remus. Once the children had been “blooded,” their faces were washed in goat milk. As the children were being cleansed, they were expected to laugh, thereby demonstrating their lack of fear of blood and their acknowledgment that they had received the magic of protection against wolves and wolfmen.
The god Lupercus, represented by a wolf, inspired men to behave as werewolves during the festival. Early in history, these werewolves chased down innocent victims and ate them, tearing off bites of the flesh with their teeth. In later years, as the Romans and their practices gained sophistication, their bloodlust was satisfied in a slightly more acceptable fashion. The men were drunk, and naked, and young women would line up for the men to flog them with leather thongs cut from the animals they had just slain. They believed this would make them fertile. This idea stemmed from earlier practices of beating the fields to encourage crop success.
The festival also included a matchmaking lottery, similar to that of ancient Egypt, in which young men drew the names of women from a jar. The man and woman would then be coupled up for the duration of the festival — or longer, if the match was right. So, ladies, if you fancy being publicly flogged by a naked drunk guy, who then draws your name from a jar, thus winning your sexual services for the weekend…perhaps this is indeed your kind of holiday.
Moving forward a bit in time to the third century; the Roman Empire was ruled by Emperor Claudius II Gothicus. He was nicknamed Claudius the Cruel for his merciless tactics, which must have been considerable for him to stand out in the crowd amongst Roman rulers. The Roman Empire was, in this period, experiencing massive turmoil. The Empire was divided into three competing factions, and the threat of invasion came from all sides, and
Claudius was struggling to fill his military ranks. He decided that recruitment was down because Roman soldiers were unwilling to leave their wives and families for such long periods. His solution was to outlaw marriage in Rome. You can imagine how well this went over amongst the citizens.
Hope arrived in the name of a Christian priest called Valentine. Recognizing the injustice of Claudius’ decree, Valentine began conducting secret marriages for Roman soldiers. When Claudius discovered the secret ceremonies, he ordered Valentine’s execution. As Valentine was awaiting execution, tradition has it that he fell in love with the jailer’s daughter. It was unfortunately a short romance, as in 269 Valentine was clubbed to death and then beheaded by Roman executioners. Father Valentine, champion of sweethearts, was named a martyr by the Church, because he gave up his life to perform the sacrament of marriage. When the Church gained power in the Roman Empire, the Holy See quickly made him a saint.
Lupercalia survived the initial rise of Christianity in the Roman Empire, but was outlawed—as it was deemed “un-Christian”–at the end of the 5th century. This was the same era in which Pope Gelasius I, in declaring February 14 St. Valentine’s Day, combined it with the celebration of Lupercalia, in order to replace pagan ritual with Christian, as had been done with such holidays as Easter and Christmas.
The early Church fathers were quite aware of the popularity of a vast number of heathen gods and goddesses, as well as the dates of observation of pagan festivals, so they made a point of replacing as many of the deities and the holidays as possible with ecclesiastical saints and feast days. Mid-February had an ancient history of being devoted to acts of love of a far more passionate and lusty nature than the Church was willing to bless, and the bishops moved as speedily as possible to claim mid-February as belonging to Saint Valentine. One can easily see why the early Church fathers much preferred the union of man and woman to be smiled upon by St. Valentine, rather than the leering wolf god Lupercus. St. Valentine’s Day was celebrating the same general concept: that of fertility and love, and so it became Lupercalia with its clothes put back on.
By the Middle Ages, Valentine was among the favorite saints in England and France, popular for his romantic and heroic story. Among the peasantry, the customs surrounding Saint Valentine appear to have roots in the traditions of ancient Egypt and Rome. On the evening before Valentine’s Day, young men and women would gather in the village and draw names by chance. The matches would be sweethearts for the year. Clearly, this residually Lupercalian method of celebrating St. Valentine led to circumstances that encouraged relationships of a more lasting nature, presided over by the local priest. Among the upper classes, where arranged marriages were of greater importance to the continued success of the landed gentry and aristocracy, this practice was a dangerous prospect. Instead, upper class families allowed their children to draw names at highly supervised holiday parties, and be chaperoned “sweethearts” for the length of the event, and no further, thus protecting the noble family lines and the future of the families.
Rarely does a day go by I don’t blame Chaucer for something, and this is no exception. Geoffrey Chaucer, medieval English poet, is known to have taken liberties with history, often placing his characters into fictionalized historical contexts, which he then presented to his readers as fact. There are no records of courtly, romantic celebrations on Valentine’s Day in the medieval era before Chaucer wrote a poem around the year 1382, in celebration of the engagement of King Richard II of England and Anne of Bohemia. In the poem, “Parliament of Fowles,” he makes the assertion that Valentine’s Day is a special day of romantic celebration for lovers, with the exchanging of notes and gifts. The poem refers to February 14 as the day birds and humans find their mates. It was only after this poem received widespread fame that Valentine’s Day became the holiday we recognize today. Yes, Chaucer invented Valentine’s Day. It’s his fault.
Side note: Here are links to the book of past posts from Chaucer’s blog and his current twitter for your perusal. Your love life may depend on it.
Valentine greetings, therefore, were popular as far back as the Middle Ages, though written valentines didn’t begin to appear until after 1400. The oldest known valentine still in existence today was a poem written in 1415 by Charles, Duke of Orleans, to his wife while he was imprisoned in the Tower of London. (It is now part of the manuscript collection of the British Library.) Several years later, it is believed that King Henry V hired a writer named John Lydgate to compose a valentine note to Catherine of Valois.
By the 1750s, it was common for friends and lovers of all social classes to exchange small tokens of affection or handwritten notes, and by the 1850s, Valentine’s Day cards were being manufactured and sold commercially in England, and the custom of observing the holiday with cards to one’s sweetheart became popular in the United States in the 1860s, around the time of the American Civil War.
By 1900, printed cards began to replace written letters due to improvements in printing technology. Cheaper postage rates also contributed to an increase in the popularity of sending Valentine’s Day greetings. Today, an estimated 1 billion Valentine’s Day cards are sent each year.
And finally, a few facts about the fellow who started the whole mess: Valentine. The saint we celebrate on Valentine’s Day is known officially as St. Valentine of Rome, in order to differentiate him from the dozen or so other Valentines on the list of saints. Because “Valentinus”—from the Latin word for worthy, strong or powerful—was a popular name between the second and eighth centuries, there were bound to be a few martyrs with that name, and indeed, there are about a dozen Valentines (or some variation thereof) on the official Roman Catholic roster of saints. There was even a Pope Valentine, though all we really know about him is that he served a mere 40 days around A.D. 827.
Saints don’t get to lounge about much in the afterlife, and Valentine is no exception. St. Valentine has a wide-ranging assortment of spiritual responsibilities, to include being the patron saint of beekeepers and travelers, and sufferers of epilepsy and the plague. All of this on top of his duties to look after engaged couples and happy marriages.
If you happen to be in need of his services, you can find Valentine’s skull on display in the Basilica of Santa Maria in Rome. (It’s cleverly displayed in a little gold television-shaped reliquary, with a sticky note on his forehead identifying him. I think he looks rather fetching.) Excavations in the early 1800s in a catacomb nearby unearthed his skeletal remains, and as is customary in the Catholic Church, bits and pieces of Saint Valentine have been shipped about to reliquaries around the world. You can find parts of Valentine in the Czech Republic, Ireland, Scotland, England, and France.
Today, of course, we have great commercial enterprises focused on St. Valentine’s Day, insisting that folks buy their sweethearts a box of candy, a dozen roses, a diamond ring or necklace, or at least a five-dollar card. This is all Chaucer’s doing, which makes me wonder why more florists aren’t named after him.
As you stand in line to buy your roses this February 14, remember that it all began with a deranged wolfman smeared in blood, chasing down women with a leather strap.
Feel free to celebrate that as you see fit.