Introduction
‘Jupiter Tanarus is thus half Roman and half Celtic, the fruit of that syncretism which, all over the Empire, identified the local deities with those of the Roman pantheon and worshipped at once the gods of the conquerors and the gods of the conquered.’Footnote 1
The altar of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus, discovered at Chester in 1653 and now owned by Oxford’s Ashmolean Museum, is one of the most interesting religious inscriptions from Roman Britain.Footnote 2 It appears to be a classic example of interpretatio: the process through which ‘Roman soldiers identified Celtic and Eastern gods with their own deities, and native Britons saw Roman gods as manifestations of indigenous Celto-Germanic cults.’Footnote 3 Traditionally, religion in Roman Britain has been analysed through the lens of the ‘Romanisation paradigm’ structured by the perennial polemic of ‘Roman’ versus ‘Native’.Footnote 4 This is stimulated in scholarship on Roman Britain because a large amount of our epigraphic and archaeological evidence comes from Roman forts: assumed to be culturally Roman, and therefore a ‘Romanising’ force, due to their ‘official pantheon’ and universal religious calendar — Henig even calls them ‘an image of Rome in microcosm’.Footnote 5 A central problem with this approach is that it treats gods with the same name(s) as manifestations of the same cult, representing either Roman or native culture, allowing for region- or province-wide analysis on the prevalence of different cults and Roman culture. However, was a Jupiter in one fort the same as a Jupiter in another?
Häussler has outlined a ‘glocalisation’ paradigm to understand how a global religious discourse became particularised in localities: ‘the way in which local people adopted and adapted, interpreted and reinterpreted those alien cults’ through epithets, cult-pairings, divine hierarchies, iconographic variation and geographical connections, shaping the specific roles the gods played in cities, towns and villages.Footnote 6 Using the case-study of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus, this article will advance a theory of micro-pantheons: that the religious environment of any particular locality was unique and that individuals moving into localities could both bring cultural elements which influenced the local religious culture and themselves be influenced by that local religious culture. First, a brief description of Roman Chester will be provided followed by an analysis of traditional interpretations of the cult of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus and a suggestion of a different interpretation focused on headhunting. This interpretation will be solidified by a comparison with the tombstone of Aurelius Lucius and an argument will be made for the localisation of Aurelius into a cult of headhunting at Chester.
Roman Chester (Deva)
Chester was one of three legionary fortresses — alongside York and Caerleon — in Britain, located on the River Dee. It was constructed in the 70s a.d. by Legio II Adiutrix and garrisoned by Legio XX Valeria Victrix from the 80s until the late fourth century, although it was thinly manned when many cohorts of Legio XX were seconded for the building of Hadrian’s Wall and the Antonine Wall.Footnote 7 The fortress was quite extensive with an amphitheatre, a number of bathhouses both inside and outside the walls,Footnote 8 a port and the foundations of a perplexing ‘elliptical building’.Footnote 9 Chester was a cultural melting pot: soldiers, merchants, veterans, natives, women and children from a variety of backgrounds mixed together in the fortress and its surrounding settlements: the canabae legionis, the vicus of Heronbridge, two smaller settlements at Saltney and Boughton, and a pottery facility at Holt.Footnote 10 There are 18 religious inscriptions from the fortress and surrounding area, excluding three dedications to the emperor — consistent with other fortresses in Britain but insignificant compared to the legionary bases on the Rhine such as Bonn or Xanten.
Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus
The altar dedicated to Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus was inscribed as follows (RIB 452):
I(ovi) O(ptimo) M(aximo) Tanaro | Ḷ(ucius) [Elufrius] Galer(ia) (tribu) | Praesens [Cl]unia | pri(nceps) leg(ionis) XX V(aleriae) V(ictricis) | Commodo et | Laterano co(n)s(ulibus) | v(otum) s(olvit) l(ibens) m(erito)
To Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus, Lucius Elufrius Praesens of the Galerian voting-tribe from Clunia, princeps of the 20th Legion Valeria Victrix, in the consulship of Commodus and Lateranus, fulfilled his vow freely and deservedly.
The princeps was the second highest-ranking centurion in a legion and the consular dating allows us to place the altar in 154 a.d.Footnote 11 Just like Collingwood nearly a century ago, most scholars today see IOMT as an interpretatio.Footnote 12 Tanarus most likely derives from the Celtic taran, meaning ‘thunder’, and should be identified with (and as a misspelling of) the Celtic god Taranis, who appears in Lucan as well as several other inscriptions with slightly different spelling:Footnote 13 for example, at Bockingen, Godramstein, Orgon, Scardona, Bribir and Thauron.Footnote 14 Versions of Taranis appear alone on the altars in Bockingen, Godramstein and Orgon, and Lucan treats him as a single deity, suggesting that Taranis is not an epithet meaning ‘thunderer’ as some scholars have suggested.Footnote 15 He was a god who was paired with IOM or Jupiter in a select few local areas with specific circumstances that might have encouraged such a link.Footnote 16 The substantial iconographic variation on the Jupiter Columns in the Rhineland — Jupiter sitting on a throne, mounted and attired for battle, or fighting Giants — exemplifies the various roles of Jupiter in different places.Footnote 17 The association with Taranis at Chester drew out a particular aspect of IOM to the exclusion of other aspects of his multifaceted role as an all-powerful sky god.Footnote 18
Now Lucius Elufrius Praesens was from Clunia in Hispania Tarraconensis and like many of the soldiers at ChesterFootnote 19 — originating from Syria, Lusitania, Gallia Lugdunensis, Noricum, Gallia Narbonensis, northern Italy, Germania Inferior, Lower Moesia and TripoliFootnote 20 —would not have known Taranis from his hometown. Instead, it is likely that there was already a cult to Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus in Chester. Perhaps Taranis was worshipped by a contingent of Gallic cavalrymen in Chester and was slowly syncretised with Jupiter, who would have been worshipped by the Romans. Indeed, an earlier IOM altar at Chester had a goose — a symbol of Juno — engraved into the side-panel, possibly indicating that this Jupiter was originally understood to be connected to the Capitoline Triad.Footnote 21 This is made manifest in an altar at Maryport (IOM Capitolinus) and the Capitoline, Mars and Victory altar from Carlisle which must be linked to the 3 January festival prescribed in the Feriale Duranum.Footnote 22 The later IOMT altar is shed of such links with the Triad and the January festival. Therefore, IOMT was the product of the local conditions at Chester, which might not have been present elsewhere in Britain, and became the fortress’s premier deity by the mid-second century. In this sense, Lucius Elufrius Praesens was not Romanised or Celticised in making a dedication to IOMT, but rather localised.
Aldhouse-Green suggests that Taranis was a god of thunder, weather and storms, which might have overtones of battle.Footnote 23 Some have also suggested that the cult was represented by the wheel-symbol and was therefore common across Britain, despite the name only appearing at Chester.Footnote 24 But there is serious doubt about the association between the wheel-symbol and Jupiter or Taranis,Footnote 25 and there is no wheel on the IOMT altar, but a six-petalled flower and a wreath enclosing a rosette. It is possible that the concept of ‘thunder’ was linked to the din of battle and the parade-ground — the clashing of weapons on shields, the stamping of feet, the shouts of soldiers —Footnote 26 and it was in the parade-ground at Chester that the IOMT altar was discovered.Footnote 27 But it seems Taranis had deeper links with a particularly Celtic aspect of warfare: headhunting.
In his Pharsalia, Lucan wrote: et quibus inmitis placatur sanguine diro Teutates horrensque feris altaribus Esus et Taranis Scythicae non mitior ara Dianae (and those who propitiate with horrid victims ruthless Teutates, and Esus whose savage shrine makes men shudder, and Taranis, whose altar is no more benign than that of Scythian Diana).Footnote 28 The implication here is that human victims were sacrificed to these three Gallic gods: Teutates, Esus and Taranis. The comparison with the Scythian Diana is relevant here because she, too, was linked with human sacrifice.Footnote 29 There is further evidence of Taranis’ connection to headhunting specifically in the Bern scholiast: praesidem bellorum et caelestium deorum maximum Taranin Iovem, adsuetum olim humanis placari capitibus (the chief of wars and greatest of the celestial gods, Jupiter Taranis was once accustomed to being placated by human heads).Footnote 30 Duval argues that, given what we know of the Gallic practice of headhunting (see below), ‘on offrait à l’arbitre céleste des guerres soit des têtes prélevées sur des ennemis morts, soit des têtes de prisonniers décapités ou d’autres victimes spécialement désignées pour ce supplice.’Footnote 31 Is there any further evidence for this link between Taranis and headhunting? Interestingly, Aldhouse-Green suggested there might be some evidence for this in Britain based on a find in Staffordshire: ‘this is a stone from a temple-site at Wall, Staffordshire, carved on which is a naked figure holding a circular object (thought by the excavator to be a wheel) over an altar. Beneath this figure is a human severed head.’Footnote 32 There is another possibility found at Chester itself: the tombstone of Aurelius Lucius.
Aurelius the Headhunter
Discovered along the North Wall in 1887, the tombstone reads (RIB 522):Footnote 33
[D(is)] M(anibus) | Aureli Luci | equitis | h(eres) f(aciendum) c(uravit)
To the spirits of the deceased, of Aurelius Lucius, cavalryman, his heir had this made.
More important than the text itself is the image on the tombstone (Fig. 1). It shows a male figure, obviously Aurelius Lucius, reclining on a couch with armour on. Hope characterises this as a ‘totenmahl or funerary banquet’, but it deviates from other such scenes by having a very explicitly military overtone.Footnote 34 He holds a cup in his raised right hand and a scroll in his left hand. Above him, fixed to the wall, is a full-faced cavalry helmet with plume and a sword with large pommel, presumably a spatha. Aurelius Lucius was probably a member of the 120 equites legionis along with other cavalrymen who appear on tombstones at Chester.Footnote 35 The decision to mark his status in this way is surprising, given the usual iconography on the tombstone of a cavalryman was a warrior on horseback over a defeated enemy, normally with a spear.Footnote 36 Indeed, four are from Chester (RIB 499, 541, 550 and 551) and another (RIB 538) shows a slight variation of this scene. But most interesting of all, a small figure is displayed next to the couch holding a severed head by the hair. Now it has been known for a long time that headhunting by Celtic auxiliaries was practised in the Roman army of the imperial period, especially amongst the cavalry.Footnote 37 Headhunting had been an important feature of Gallic warfare, culture and religion centuries before the Roman conquest and was noted by numerous Roman sources.Footnote 38 Archaeological discoveries of decapitated heads in Roman Britain have been used to support this view, though the best evidence comes from southern France, such as the warrior statues from Entremont.Footnote 39 For Voisin, its practice in the Roman army of the Imperial period was simply a continuation of a Roman practice dating back to the regal period and early Republic;Footnote 40 but against this Petitjean has argued that by the Second Punic War such practice had fallen out of use. It was reintroduced by Celtic auxiliaries who continued their long-standing traditions which became accepted by imperial authorities and adapted to represent the domination of the empire.Footnote 41 Similarly, Fields has argued that Celts in the Roman army continued to practise headhunting as ‘an organised, coherent form of violence in which the severed head retained its specific ritual meaning’.Footnote 42 For Fields, Aurelius Lucius’ tombstone is thus, and one of the first pieces of evidence of, ‘a conscious exhibition of the traditional Celtic practice of headhunting’.Footnote 43
Tombstone of Aurelius Lucius, CHEGM 1999.6.65 (H: 137 cm; W: 71 cm) (Courtesy of West Cheshire Museums).

Within Britain there are a few other attestations of headhunting in the iconographic record, yet the evidence is limited.Footnote 44 One of the best pieces of evidence is the Lancaster horseman. The tombstone of Insus, son of Vodullus, shows the Treverian cavalryman with helmet, shield and sword atop his mount. Below him is the decapitated body of an enemy, still holding shield and sword, whilst his head is grasped by the hair in the right hand of Insus.Footnote 45 Without many other examples from Britain of headhunting it is hard to know how prominent this aspect of martial culture was. Yet it is probably fair to assume that in Chester there was a sizeable enough group engaging in the culture of headhunting for Aurelius (or rather more precisely his heir) to include a severed head on his tombstone which would have been visible to all. It could be countered that other cavalry tombstones from Chester (RIB 499, 541, 550 and 551) do not include references to headhunting. This is true; but, given three are highly fragmentary, it is dangerous to conclude that they would not have contained headhunting iconography. Furthermore, while the ‘rider-over-enemy’ was a stock iconography that ‘simply served to distinguish the skills of the cavalryman and to contrast his military role with that of the foot soldier’ or even presented ‘the deceased as the heroes of Rome, trampling the vanquished enemy’,Footnote 46 in the eyes of certain Roman soldiers in Britain, the iconography might well have been associated with headhunting, marking the moment before the act of decapitation of a defeated enemy just as Insus’ tombstone showed the moment after the act. Indeed, the Bridgeness Slab from the Antonine Wall depicts a rider scene on the left with four defeated enemies, one of whom has been decapitated.Footnote 47
Although it is impossible to establish any sure connection between the IOMT altar and the tombstone, it is striking that there was a cult to a god associated in Gallic culture with headhunting and a soldier wishing to commemorate his headhunting credentials on his tombstone in the same fort. Aurelius Lucius likely lived during the second century, though it is hard to be precise. Based on the depiction on the tombstone, Stewart argued that ‘his beard and vigorous hair, as well as his name, probably give an early Antonine terminus post quem … the use of the nomen Aurelius, and the very fact that this eques is a citizen might point beyond a.d. 211’.Footnote 48 However, earlier dating based on the lettering of the inscriptions on all the tombstones found in the lower portion of the North Wall suggests that they cannot be dated beyond c. 200 a.d.Footnote 49 Therefore, it seems that Aurelius Lucius could have lived during the century in the middle of which an altar was dedicated to IOMT at Chester and was a central aspect of the local pantheon at the fortress. It thus seems reasonable to connect the two together and see them as manifestations of a particular martial and religious culture within Chester that valued the practice of headhunting and the god Taranis connected with it.
Therefore, the cult of IOMT was quite different to other Jupiter cults in Britain, and perhaps across the empire, through its association with Taranis and headhunting. Equally, this Taranis cult was quite different from other manifestations, for it had been linked with a central god within the Roman pantheon, giving it a centrality within a Roman fortress unachievable elsewhere. The cult of IOMT was thus local and unique. It is possible that originally the cult of Taranis was brought by Gallic cavalrymen who served at Chester and engaged in the culture of headhunting, within which Taranis was an important deity. It was then combined with the cult of Jupiter Optimus Maximus and so created local variation. Soldiers who then came to Chester and engaged in the cult, such as Lucius Elufrius Praesens who erected the altar which survives today, were thus integrated into a local religious manifestation. And this was likely the case with Aurelius too. There is little sign that he was Gallic. The name Aurelius Lucius was obviously Roman, and it is likely he was serving not in an auxiliary cavalry unit, but the equites legionis. It has been suggested that the brushed-back hair and presence of a moustache and beard signifies Aurelius’ Gallic origins.Footnote 50 Yet the hair is not spiked, nor is the facial hair any secure marker of identity. Perhaps most significantly, Aurelius chose not to have a rider scene depicted on his tombstone as was typical of Gallic cavalrymen in the Roman army. Aurelius wanted to depict ‘civilian and leisure attributes’; indeed, ‘the majority of British totenmahl stelae, however, commemorate women and/or children’.Footnote 51 And yet his identity as a cavalryman was important enough that he had a sword and helmet added to the background. Similarly, the cult of headhunting was so important to him that he wanted it explicitly included in a scene that it did not traditionally fit. It is possible that the cult of headhunting was so important an aspect of his identity not because of his ethnic origins, but because at Chester there was a particularly intense significance attached to headhunting because of the cult of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus that had developed there.
Conclusion
The case study of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus has demonstrated a plausible model in which a localised cult developed through the interaction between various different influences within a particular environment. The cult of Jupiter Optimus Maximus Tanarus at Chester and its associated cult of headhunting was possibly unique in Roman Britain. Although Gallic auxiliaries may have practised headhunting in Britain and across the Roman Empire, a cult of headhunting integrated into the central religious framework of a fort society and the cult of Rome’s central deity was a significant intensification of headhunting culture such that non-Gallic cavalrymen, such as Aurelius Lucius, could partake in the practice. The uniqueness of his tombstone, combining a civilian funerary banquet, the military display of arms and armour, and display of a severed head testifies to the cultural blends that could form within local fort-societies. It suggests that a deeper appreciation of the religious environment of those living in the Roman empire would be gained from studying the micro-pantheons that developed in different localities and the combination of local and global forces that constantly shaped them.
Acknowledgements
Thanks go to Nicholas Purcell and the reviewer for Britannia for their suggestions. I am also thankful to the Grosvenor Museum in Chester for use of their images. All mistakes remain my own. This research was supported by the Pharos Foundation.
Abbreviations
- AE
L’Année Épigraphique.
- CIL
Corpus Inscriptionum Latinarum.
- RIB
The Roman Inscriptions of Britain.