Called Pergamum, [he] said. [He] urged the people,
Who loved the name, to love their new-found hearths
And raise a citadel above the town.’
(Fitzgerald Aeneid Book 3, lines 184-88)
This is a perfect illustration of quite how much Aeneas is at the mercy of the prophecy; his own desires, and indeed decisions, are undermined by the ensuing omen of deadly plague which he is forced to heed, moving on once again. It is vital for Rome that these omens are obeyed, or their future would not have happened. A more concrete, albeit sinister, prophecy is given to Aeneas by the harpies living in the Strophades: that they will be driven by famine to eat their tables before being allowed to settle. The land in which this takes place, however, will be that promised to the wandering Trojans.
Upon discovering the ‘new Troy’ of Helenus and Andromache in Epirus, Aeneas hears further prophecy of his destined future. The knowledge that much suffering must still be undergone is reinforced: there is a long way left to travel and perils to overcome, not least of which are the wars predicted in Italy itself. Omens and internal prophecies are repeated throughout the poem. By ‘internal’ I mean that they have direct bearing on the immediate plot and act as necessary motivation for the ‘uncomprehending’ characters. Another instance might be the signs received by Latinus to persuade him that Aeneas should be his future son-in-law. These serve to ‘contribut[e]…to the unity of the work’ (Herschel Moore 4) and are important mainly within the poem in order that it reaches the correct conclusion.
Herschel Moore points out that
‘the prophecies all fix our attention on the two great themes of the poem.
‘The first of these themes…is provided by the toilsome efforts of the Trojan remnant to establish themselves in Italy, and the legendary material fills the whole compass of the epic; yet the greater theme is imperial Rome, whose history lies wholly outside the poem, but the story of whose course through the centuries is woven into the fabric of the Aeneid – and the method used is prophecy, not narration’ (41)
The Punic Wars, for example, are prophesied in Dido’s curse on Aeneas, that their countries will be at war, and this would have been an immediate connection to make for Virgil’s audience. Helenus talks about ‘the prophetess’ who will ‘consent to utter and chant her oracles’. He alludes to the Sibyl at Cumae, a prophetess of Apollo. This is a particularly important Sibyl because she is reported to have offered nine books to Tarquinius Superbus, Rome’s last king, containing prophecies about the course of the Roman Empire. He refused to buy them at the extortionate price she demanded, and so she burnt three and offered the remaining six at the original price. Again he refused and she burnt another three, until he acquiesced and paid the original price for the remaining three. The Sibylline verses in some form or another remained in the hands of Roman rulers for several generations, and were often consulted. There is a parallel to be drawn here between the fact that as Augustus might have been guided by the Sibyl’s words, so Aeneas has her as his guide in the Underworld. She is an important symbol of prophecy, and her words are heeded, unlike Apollo’s other famous priestess, the fated Cassandra. The significance of the Sibyl for ‘imperial Rome’ is bound up with the character of Apollo. Augustus held this god responsible for his famous victory at Actium: in the Introduction to Robert Fitzgerald’s translation of the Aeneid, Philip Hardie says that
‘The god who stands for wholeness of power in the Aeneid is Apollo. It is Apollo who brings victory at the battle of Actium; at his triumph Augustus reviews his subject peoples from the threshold of the newly built temple of Apollo on the Palatine.’ (ix)
It was in 29 BC that Augustus dedicated the temple on the Palatine to Apollo, and Virgil must have known his plans for reinstating the Ludi Saeculares , which would have fulfilled Aeneas’ promise to hold festos dies in nomine Phoebi. There were in fact already Ludi Apollinares, established in 212BC, but Virgil would have wanted to make these episodes proleptic – and approving – of Augustus’ own undertakings. Aeneas promises the Sibyl ‘a holy place…in [his] kingdom/ Where [he will] store [her] prophecies.’ (Virgil 6, 72). This refers to the plan Augustus later carried out to keep the verses in a gold coffer underneath the statue of Apollo in the temple. The idea of prophecy here is multi-layered but within the poem the Sibyl’s function is to help Aeneas into the Underworld so that he may undergo an important rite of passage, guided by the shade of his father Anchises. In the Elysian Fields Aeneas is shown the bigger picture: a pageant of his descendants, his future, although already the Roman past. This is a continuation of Jupiter’s prophecy in Book 1, where he consoles Venus that her son’s glory will continue into the future. In this prophecy Virgil is careful to emphasize the name of ‘Iulus’ to whom Augustus traced his bloodline. Jupiter echoes the Virgilian hope of ‘empire without end’.
Aeneas sees in the Underworld ‘famous children in [his] line…Souls of the future, living in [his] name.’ (Fitzgerald Aeneid 6, 1017-18). Anchises predicts the entire line up to the present day, although as Quinn notices, ‘eschews a chronological arrangement, in order to keep the Tableau of Augustus (791-805) distinct from that of the other participants in the civil war, Julius Caesar and Pompey.’ (172) Anchises tells Aeneas:
‘You are the only soul who shall restore
Our wounded state by waiting out the enemy...
…Roman, remember by your strength to rule ‘
Earth’s peoples – for your arts are to be these:
To pacify, to impose the rule of law,
To spare the conquered, battle down the proud.’
(Fitzgerald Aeneid 6, 1143-1154)
Quinn says that
‘Anchises’ prophecy is less an injunction than a statement of fact, the conclusion pointed to by the pageant of soldiers and politicians Aeneas has witnessed: Rome’s peculiar culture will lie in her concern with government…to crown peace with a way of life…fair treatment of those she has defeated, but unrelenting war against those who arrogantly resist her mission to rule; Virgil’s contemporaries, looking back on several centuries of reasonably enlightened conquest could feel the boast backed up by history. But this is at the same time the policy Aeneas will follow in his war with the Italians, and, by implication, the policy Augustus followed when his uncle Julius…forced upon him a war that had to be fought to the bitter end.’ (173)
Again the parallel characters of Aeneas and Augustus are highlighted. Aeneas will set the standard in every way: what he begins, Augustus will continue. In this way they are connected through the ages.
We have the ekphrasis of Aeneas’ shield, similar to that of Achilles, yet Aeneas is once more ‘uncomprehending’: the events portrayed are unfamiliar to him. They chart the progress of the line of descendants he saw in the Underworld, with much emphasis given by its placement to the Battle of Actium and Octavian’s triumphs. Herschel Moore sees these as ‘passages…in which the poet by effective vaticination made deep appeal to the national sense of his audience, to their pride in their long past, and to their hopes which the new rule of peace and law inspired under Augustus.’ (42) He also feels that another important prophecy is overlooked: Jupiter’s prophecy at the very end when Juno has to accept the superiority and longevity of the Trojan race, yet requests that they may relinquish the name and language of Troy and become Latins. Her husband agrees that he will
‘…make them Latin, one in speech.
The race to come, mixed with Ausonian blood,
Will out do men and gods in its devotion,
You shall see – and no nation on earth
Will honor and worship you so faithfully.’
(Fitzgerald Aeneid 1136-40)
This is the ‘great moral of the epic’, (Herschel Moore 43) that in pietas this ruling race will surpass all other beings.
Yet in this glorious race, I believe Virgil sees evil too. There is no doubt that he is aware of the massive costs of empire: the moving scenes from Book 2, Dido’s suicide, the numerous horrible deaths in the Latin wars: these suggest that Virgil did not condone all the means employed in empire building. In prophecy he does not gloss over death and warfare, and the tragic figure of the ignored prophetess Cassandra is an antitype for the positive figures of prophets: she makes the same prophecies in essence, but her predictions underline the tragedy to come, not the glory. Virgil also uses Marcellus’ death to highlight ‘the fragility of the mortal emperor’s best-laid plans.’ (Hardie ix) (Marcellus was Augustus’ adopted son and heir: his early death was a bitter loss to the emperor.) It is also evident however that he invests great hope in the Pax Augusta: although in many ways this poem is propaganda, and occasionally sycophantic, I believe that the pathos in the telling of this fulfilment of destiny and the prophecies to the present day is demonstrative of Virgil’s hope for a less violent future. The larger, external prophecies end with the idea of peace, and Augustus as the bearer of that peace, as Aeneas finally brings the civil war to an end.
Herschel Moore identifies another function of prophecy – that of ‘arousing and maintaining suspense’. (4) This is arguable because it means that we know the end not only of the poem but past that. It is the destiny of Troy to fall, Aeneas to reach Italy, to fight and to kill Turnus, and for his descendants to establish an empire. However, it does in fact serve to create a huge sense of dramatic irony because often we the readers know what Virgil’s characters do not. Aeneas, until Book 6, does not really have a vision of what he is aiming for, why he must settle in Italy and what the importance of his bloodline is. ‘Aeneas toils in the service of gods and nation without the sort of knowledge of the function of that toil which would make it more easily supportable.’ (Lyne 209) His followers, too, are ‘uncomprehending’, and our sympathy must be aroused by their weariness and desperation to stop travelling. In Book 4, we know that Dido cannot keep Aeneas with her: he has an important destiny to fulfil, and it does not lie in Carthage. Again the characters are seen as ‘servants of the future’: their lives are not their own. There is a sense of foreboding from the very beginning of Book 4, when Juno and Venus, on opposing sides, plan together to bring about the love affair of Dido and Aeneas. The future dictates that it is doomed from the start, yet Dido is allowed to fall further and further in love with Aeneas and call it marriage. The suspense builds, because we know at some point a tragic parting will have to take place, as indeed it does.
Ostensibly a poem set to rival Homer’s and to assert the glory and predestination of the Roman Empire, the Aeneid has many responsibilities. Virgil makes use of prophecy to unify the text but also to make political statements. He shows that according to legend, the Roman race, especially the royal line, is descended from the gods and planned many generations in advance by the fates. The prophecy that Aeneas must follow ultimately justifies Augustus’ right to rule, and by the character of Aeneas, condones his actions and morals. Aeneas’ character is, of course, created retrospectively so that his heroic code is tailored to match the values of Rome and the emperor himself, but by presenting Aeneas’ future as the Roman past and present, he makes a hero out of Augustus.
Virgil manages too to express his own hope for the future by making an example of the past: it is after all important to note that history, memory and return are as much a part of the Aeneid as is the future. It is Virgil’s wish that there will not be another Troy to write about, no more wars, domestic or foreign. By means of prophecy within the context of the poem, he looks forward to a better future outside it for the Roman Empire.
Works Cited
Clifford Herschel Moore Prophecy in the Ancient Epic: Harvard Studies in Classical Philology Vol. 32 1921
Virgil Aeneid
Robert Fitzgerald translation Virgil: The Aeneid, Introduction by Philip Hardie Published Germany: Alfred A. Knopf, first published in Everyman’s Library 1992
Kenneth Quinn Virgil’s Aeneid: A Critical Description Published London, Routledge & Kegan Paul, 1968
R. O. A. M. Lyne Further Voices in Vergil’s Aeneid Published Oxford, Clarendon Press, 1987