On this, the most holy of the Hallmark Holidays, we celebrate the joy of love. But like most legends, the reality behind this differs from that of the press release and public-facing proclamation.

Many historians believe our February celebration derives from the ancient pagan festival of Lupercalia, which predates Christianity. This Roman festival didn’t involve candy, heart-shaped cards, or kisses, but it did involve red in the form of blood.

It was a more raucous event with blood, debauchery, and sacrifice.

One practice involved the sacrifice of a goat, which then had its bloody hide cut up into strips. Then priests (why does it always seem to include priests?) would go around slapping women (particularly newlyweds) with the strips.  This was allegedly a welcome act as it was believed to make women fertile for the coming year.

The highlight was sort of an early version of reality TV. On February 14 (or the equivalent at the time) the celebrants paid an erotic tribute to Juno Februata, the goddess of feverish love. Young men drew the names of maidens randomly, and the resultant couple became partners at the feast and even for life. (Although I suspect there was some escape clause for the males in case they drew someone esthetically challenged.)

With the rise of the Catholic Church in Rome, Pope Galasius, in the 5th century, sought to eradicate the popular pagan festivals and needed a replacement. He found a bishop who’d been martyred 200 years earlier, Valentine.

The story of Valentine is interesting as well. Legend had it that on the eve of his execution, the day before February 14th, he sent a passionate letter to his beloved (apparently celibacy was not quite established) and signed the letter, ‘your Valentine.’

The Bishop was imprisoned by the Roman Emperor Aurelius in 272 AD for marrying Roman soldiers in the Catholic Church, which was in opposition to a Royal Decree. The emperor wanted the soldiers to fight his wars, not be worried about their Honey-do list. 

Thus, the Bishop was executed.

It took the efforts of the Scottish poet Robert Burns to give birth to the idea of giving a rose to a lover. 

A Red, Red Rose
By Robert Burns

“O my Luve is like a red, red rose
   That’s newly sprung in June;
O my Luve is like the melody
   That’s sweetly played in tune.

So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
   So deep in luve am I;
And I will luve thee still, my dear,
   Till a’ the seas gang dry.

Till a’ the seas gang dry, my dear,
   And the rocks melt wi’ the sun;
I will love thee still, my dear,
   While the sands o’ life shall run.

And fare thee weel, my only luve!
   And fare thee weel awhile!
And I will come again, my luve,
   Though it were ten thousand mile.

He wasn’t talking about February 14th, but it found its way into legend.

So enjoy the day, leave the goats alone, and as Paul Harvey used to say, “now you know the rest of the story.”