{"collection":"myth-cosmogony","full_text_available":true,"graph_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/api/page/gutenberg_17190/graph","html_url":"https://unchartedknowledge.5gfusion.net/v2/page/gutenberg_17190","id":"gutenberg_17190","license":"Public Domain (US)","rights_basis":"gutenberg_metadata_copyright_false","source":"gutenberg","source_url":"https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/17190","summary":null,"tags":["Category: History - Ancient","Category: Mythology, Legends & Folklore","Ghosts"],"text":"E-text prepared by Suzanne Lybarger, Janet Blenkinship, Brian Janes, and\nthe Project Gutenberg Online Distributed Proofreading Team\n(https://www.pgdp.net/)\n\n\n\nGREEK AND ROMAN GHOST STORIES\n\nby\n\nLACY COLLISON-MORLEY\n\nFormerly Scholar of St. John's College, Oxford\n\nAuthor of \"Giuseppe Baretti and His Friends,\" \"Modern Italian\nLiterature\"\n\n\n\n\n\n\n\nOxford\nB. H. Blackwell, Broad Street\nLondon\nSimpkin, Marshall & Co., Limited\n\nMCMXII\n\n\n\n\nThis collection was originally begun at the suggestion of Mr. Marion\nCrawford, whose wide and continual reading of the classics supplied more\nthan one of the stories. They were put together during a number of years\nof casual browsing among the classics, and will perhaps interest others\nwho indulge in similar amusements.\n\n\n\n\n       CONTENTS\n\n                                                   PAGE\n\n    I. THE POWER OF THE DEAD TO RETURN TO EARTH      1\n\n   II. THE BELIEF IN GHOSTS IN GREECE AND ROME      13\n\n  III. STORIES OF HAUNTING                          19\n\n   IV. NECROMANCY                                   33\n\n    V. VISIONS OF THE DEAD IN SLEEP                 45\n\n   VI. APPARITIONS OF THE DEAD                      54\n\n  VII. WARNING APPARITIONS                          72\n\n\n\n\nI\n\nTHE POWER OF THE DEAD TO RETURN TO EARTH\n\n\nThough there is no period at which the ancients do not seem to have\nbelieved in a future life, continual confusion prevails when they come\nto picture the existence led by man in the other world, as we see from\nthe sixth book of the _AEneid_. Combined with the elaborate mythology of\nGreece, we are confronted with the primitive belief of Italy, and\ndoubtless of Greece too--a belief supported by all the religious rites\nin connection with the dead--that the spirits of the departed lived on\nin the tomb with the body. As cremation gradually superseded burial, the\nidea took shape that the soul might have an existence of its own,\naltogether independent of the body, and a place of abode was assigned to\nit in a hole in the centre of the earth, where it lived on in eternity\nwith other souls.\n\nThis latter view seems to have become the official theory, at least in\nItaly, in classical days. In the gloomy, horrible Etruscan religion, the\nshades were supposed to be in charge of the Conductor of the Dead--a\nrepulsive figure, always represented with wings and long, matted hair\nand a hammer, whose appearance was afterwards imitated in the dress of\nthe man who removed the dead from the arena. Surely something may be\nsaid for Gaston Boissier's suggestion that Dante's Tuscan blood may\naccount to some extent for the gruesome imagery of the _Inferno_.\n\nCicero[1] tells us that it was generally believed that the dead lived on\nbeneath the earth, and special provision was made for them in every\nLatin town in the \"mundus,\" a deep trench which was dug before the\n\"pomerium\" was traced, and regarded as the particular entrance to the\nlower world for the dead of the town in question. The trench was vaulted\nover, so that it might correspond more or less with the sky, a gap being\nleft in the vault which was closed with the stone of the departed--the\n\"lapis manalis.\" Corn was thrown into the trench, which was filled up\nwith earth, and an altar erected over it. On three solemn days in the\nyear--August 25, October 5, and November 8--the trench was opened and\nthe stone removed, the dead thus once more having free access to the\nworld above, where the usual offerings were made to them.[2]\n\nThese provisions clearly show an official belief that death did not\ncreate an impassable barrier between the dead and the living. The\nspirits of the departed still belonged to the city of their birth, and\ntook an interest in their old home. They could even return to it on the\ndays when \"the trench of the gods of gloom lies open and the very jaws\nof hell yawn wide.\"[3] Their rights must be respected, if evil was to be\naverted from the State. In fact, the dead were gods with altars of their\nown,[4] and Cornelia, the mother of the Gracchi, could write to her\nsons, \"You will make offerings to me and invoke your parent as a\ngod.\"[5] Their cult was closely connected with that of the Lares--the\ngods of the hearth, which symbolized a fixed abode in contrast with the\nearly nomad life. Indeed, there is practically no distinction between\nthe Lares and the Manes, the souls of the good dead. But the dead had\ntheir own festival, the \"Dies Parentales,\" held from the 13th to the\n21st of February, in Rome;[6] and in Greece the \"Genesia,\" celebrated on\nthe 5th of Boedromion, towards the end of September, about which we\nknow very little.[7]\n\nThere is nothing more characteristic of paganism than the passionate\nlonging of the average man to perpetuate his memory after death in the\nworld round which all his hopes and aspirations clung. Cicero uses it as\nan argument for immortality.[8]\n\nMany men left large sums to found colleges to celebrate their memories\nand feast at their tombs on stated occasions.[9] Lucian laughs at this\ncustom when he represents the soul of the ordinary man in the next world\nas a mere bodiless shade that vanishes at a touch like smoke. It\nsubsists on the libations and offerings it receives from the living, and\nthose who have no friends or relatives on earth are starving and\nfamished.[10] Violators of tombs were threatened with the curse of dying\nthe last of their race--a curse which Macaulay, with his intense family\naffection, considered the most awful that could be devised by man; and\nthe fact that the tombs were built by the high road, so that the dead\nmight be cheered by the greeting of the passer-by, lends an additional\ntouch of sadness to a walk among the crumbling ruins that line the Latin\nor the Appian Way outside Rome to-day.\n\nNo one of the moderns has caught the pagan feeling towards death better\nthan Giosue Carducci, a true spiritual descendant of the great Romans of\nold, if ever there was one. He tells how, one glorious June day, he was\nsitting in school, listening to the priest outraging the verb \"amo,\"\nwhen his eyes wandered to the window and lighted on a cherry-tree, red\nwith fruit, and then strayed away to the hills and the sky and the\ndistant curve of the sea-shore. All Nature was teeming with life, and he\nfelt an answering thrill, when suddenly, as if from the very fountains\nof being within him, there welled up a consciousness of death, and with\nit the formless nothing, and a vision of himself lying cold, motionless,\ndumb in the black earth, while above him the birds sang, the trees\nrustled in the wind, the rivers ran on in their course, and the living\nrevelled in the warm sun, bathed in its divine light. This first vision\nof death often haunted him in later years;[11] and one realizes that\nsuch must often have been the feelings of the Romans, and still more\noften of the Greeks, for the joy of the Greek in life was far greater\nthan that of the Roman. Peace was the only boon that death could bring\nto a pagan, and \"Pax tecum aeterna\" is among the commonest of the\ninscriptions. The life beyond the grave was at best an unreal and\njoyless copy of an earthly existence, and Achilles told Odysseus that he\nwould rather be the serf of a poor man upon earth than Achilles among\nthe shades.\n\nWhen we come to inquire into the appearance of ghosts revisiting the\nglimpses of the moon, we find, as we should expect, that they are a\nvague, unsubstantial copy of their former selves on earth. In Homer[12]\nthe shade of Patroclus, which visited Achilles in a vision as he slept\nby the sea-shore, looks exactly as Patroclus had looked on earth, even\ndown to the clothes. Hadrian's famous \"animula vagula blandula\" gives\nthe same idea, and it would be difficult to imagine a disembodied spirit\nwhich retains its personality and returns to earth again except as a\nkind of immaterial likeness of its earthly self. We often hear of the\nextreme pallor of ghosts, which was doubtless due to their being\nbloodless and to the pallor of death itself. Propertius conceived of\nthem as skeletons;[13] but the unsubstantial, shadowy aspect is by far\nthe commonest, and best harmonizes with the life they were supposed to\nlead.\n\nHitherto we have been dealing with the spirits of the dead who have been\nduly buried and are at rest, making their appearance among men only at\nstated intervals, regulated by the religion of the State. The lot of the\ndead who have not been vouchsafed the trifling boon of a handful of\nearth cast upon their bones was very different. They had not yet been\nadmitted to the world below, and were forced to wander for a hundred\nyears before they might enter Charon's boat. AEneas beheld them on the\nbanks of the Styx, stretching out their hands \"ripae ulterioris amore.\"\nThe shade of Patroclus describes its hapless state to Achilles, as does\nthat of Elpenor to Odysseus, when they meet in the lower world. It is\nnot surprising that the ancients attached the highest importance to the\nduty of burying the dead, and that Pausanias blames Lysander for not\nburying the bodies of Philocles and the four thousand slain at\nAEgospotami, seeing that the Athenians even buried the Persian dead after\nMarathon.[14]\n\nThe spirits of the unburied were usually held to be bound, more or less,\nto the spot where their bodies lay, and to be able to enter into\ncommunication with the living with comparative ease, even if they did\nnot actually haunt them. They were, in fact, evil spirits which had to\nbe propitiated and honoured in special rites. Their appearances among\nthe living were not regulated by religion. They wandered at will over\nthe earth, belonging neither to this world nor to the next, restless and\nmalignant, unable to escape from the trammels of mortal life, in the\njoys of which they had no part. Thus, in the _Phaedo_[15] we read of\nsouls \"prowling about tombs and sepulchres, near which, as they tell us,\nare seen certain ghostly apparitions of souls which have not departed\npure ... These must be the souls, not of the good, but of the evil,\nwhich are compelled to wander about such places in payment of the\npenalty of their former evil way of life.\"\n\nApuleius[16] classifies the spirits of the departed for us. The Manes\nare the good people, not to be feared so long as their rites are duly\nperformed, as we have already seen; Lemures are disembodied spirits;\nwhile Larvae are the ghosts that haunt houses. Apuleius, however, is\nwholly uncritical, and the distinction between Larvae and Lemures is\ncertainly not borne out by facts.\n\nThe Larvae had distinct attributes, and were thought to cause epilepsy or\nmadness. They were generally treated more or less as a joke,[17] and are\nspoken of much as we speak of a bogey. They appear to have been\nentrusted with the torturing of the dead, as we see from the saying,\n\"Only the Larvae war with the dead.\"[18] In Seneca's _Apocolocyntosis_,[19]\nwhen the question of the deification of the late Emperor Claudius\nis laid before a meeting of the gods, Father Janus gives it as his\nopinion that no more mortals should be treated in this way, and that\n\"anyone who, contrary to this decree, shall hereafter be made,\naddressed, or painted as a god, should be delivered over to the\nLarvae\" and flogged at the next games.\n\nLarva also means a skeleton, and Trimalchio, following the Egyptian\ncustom, has one brought in and placed on the table during his famous\nfeast. It is, as one would expect, of silver, and the millionaire\nfreedman points the usual moral--\"Let us eat, drink, and be merry, for\nto-morrow we die.\"[20]\n\nThe Larvae were regular characters in the Atellane farces at Rome, where\nthey performed various \"danses macabres.\" Can these possibly be the\nprototypes of the Dances of Death so popular in the Middle Ages? We find\nsomething very similar on the well-known silver cups discovered at Bosco\nReale, though Death itself does not seem to have been represented in\nthis way. Some of the designs in the medieval series would certainly\nhave appealed to the average bourgeois Roman of the Trimalchio\ntype--e.g., \"Les Trois Vifs et les Trois Morts,\" the three men riding\ngaily out hunting and meeting their own skeletons. Such crude contrasts\nare just what one would expect to find at Pompeii.\n\nLemures and Larvae are often confused, but Lemures is the regular word\nfor the dead not at rest--the \"Lemuri,\" or spirits of the churchyard, of\nsome parts of modern Italy. They were evil spirits, propitiated in early\ndays with blood. Hence the first gladiatorial games were given in\nconnection with funerals. Both in Greece and in Rome there were special\nfestivals for appeasing these restless spirits. Originally they were of\na public character, for murder was common in primitive times, and such\nspirits would be numerous, as is proved by the festival lasting three\ndays.\n\nIn Athens the Nemesia were held during Anthesterion (February-March). As\nin Rome, the days were unlucky. Temples were closed and business was\nsuspended, for the dead were abroad. In the morning the doors were\nsmeared with pitch, and those in the house chewed whitethorn to keep off\nthe evil spirits. On the last day of the festival offerings were made\nto Hermes, and the dead were formally bidden to depart.[21]\n\nOvid describes the Lemuria or Lemuralia.[22] They took place in May,\nwhich was consequently regarded as an unlucky month for marriages, and\nis still so regarded almost as universally in England to-day as it was\nin Rome during the principate of Augustus. The name of the festival Ovid\nderives from Remus, as the ghost of his murdered brother was said to\nhave appeared to Romulus in his sleep and to have demanded burial. Hence\nthe institution of the Lemuria.\n\nThe head of the family walked through the house with bare feet at dead\nof night, making the mystic sign with his first and fourth fingers\nextended, the other fingers being turned inwards and the thumb crossed\nover them, in case he might run against an unsubstantial spirit as he\nmoved noiselessly along. This is the sign of \"le corna,\" held to be\ninfallible against the Evil Eye in modern Italy. After solemnly washing\nhis hands, he places black beans in his mouth, and throws others over\nhis shoulders, saying, \"With these beans do I redeem me and mine.\" He\nrepeats this ceremony nine times without looking round, and the spirits\nare thought to follow unseen and pick up the beans. Then he purifies\nhimself once more and clashes brass, and bids the demons\nleave his house. When he has repeated nine times \"Manes exite paterni,\"\nhe looks round, and the ceremony is over, and the restless ghosts have\nbeen duly laid for a year.\n\nLamiae haunted rooms, which had to be fumigated with sulphur, while some\nmystic rites were performed with eggs before they could be expelled.\n\nThe dead not yet at rest were divided into three classes--those who had\ndied before their time, the [Greek: aoroi], who had to wander till the\nspan of their natural life was completed;[23] those who had met with\nviolent deaths, the [Greek: biaiothanatoi]; and the unburied, the\n[Greek: ataphoi]. In the Hymn to Hecate, to whom they were especially\nattached, they are represented as following in her train and taking part\nin her nightly revels in human shape. The lot of the murdered is no\nbetter, and executed criminals belong to the same class.\n\nSpirits of this kind were supposed to haunt the place where their bodies\nlay. Hence they were regarded as demons, and were frequently entrusted\nwith the carrying out of the strange curses, which have been found in\ntheir tombs, or in wells where a man had been drowned, or even in the\nsea, written on leaden tablets, often from right to left, or in queer\ncharacters, so as to be illegible, with another tablet fastened over\nthem by means of a nail, symbolizing the binding effect it was hoped\nthey would have--the \"Defixiones,\" to give them their Latin name, which\nare very numerous among the inscriptions. So real was the belief in\nthese curses that the elder Pliny says that everyone is afraid of being\nplaced under evil spells;[24] and they are frequently referred to in\nantiquity.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 1: _Tusc. Disp._, i. 16.]\n\n[Footnote 2: Ov., _Fast._, iv. 821; Fowler, _Roman Festivals_, p. 211.]\n\n[Footnote 3: Macrob., _Sat._, i. 16.]\n\n[Footnote 4: Cic., _De Leg._, ii. 22.]\n\n[Footnote 5: \"Deum parentem\" (Corn. Nep., _Fragm._, 12).]\n\n[Footnote 6: Cp. Fowler, _Rom._ _Fest._]\n\n[Footnote 7: Rohde, _Psyche_, p. 216. Cp. Herod., iv. 26.]\n\n[Footnote 8: _Tusc._ _Disp._, i. 12, 27.]\n\n[Footnote 9: Dill, _Roman Society from Nero to Marcus Aurelius_, p. 259\n_ff._]\n\n[Footnote 10: _De Luctu_, 9.]\n\n[Footnote 11: Carducci, \"Rimembranze di Scuola,\" in _Rime Nuove_.]\n\n[Footnote 12: _Il._, 23. 64.]\n\n[Footnote 13: \"Turpia ossa,\" 4. 5. 4.]\n\n[Footnote 14: Paus., 9. 32.]\n\n[Footnote 15: 81 D.]\n\n[Footnote 16: _De Genio Socratis_, 15.]\n\n[Footnote 17: Cp. Plautus, _Cas._, iii. 4. 2; _Amphitr._, ii. 2. 145;\n_Rudens_, v. 3. 67, etc.; and the use of the word \"larvatus.\"]\n\n[Footnote 18: Pliny, _N.H._, 1, Proef. 31: \"Cum mortuis non nisi\nLarvas luctari.\"]\n\n[Footnote 19: Seneca, _Apocol._, 9. At the risk of irrelevance, I cannot\nrefrain from pointing out the enduring nature of proverbs as exemplified\nin this section. Hercules grows more and more anxious at the turn the\ndebate is taking, and hastens from one god to another, saying: \"Don't\ngrudge me this favour; the case concerns me closely. I shan't forget you\nwhen the time comes. One good turn deserves another\" (Manus manum\nlavat). This is exactly the Neapolitan proverb, \"One hand washes the\nother, and both together wash the face.\" \"Una mano lava l'altra e tutt'e\ndue si lavano la faccia,\" is more or less the modern version. In chapter\nvii. we have also \"gallum in suo sterquilino plurimum posse,\" which\ncorresponds to our own, \"Every cock crows best on its own dunghill.\"]\n\n[Footnote 20: Petr., _Sat._, 34.]\n\n[Footnote 21: [Greek: thhyraze, keres, oukhet Anthesteria.] Cp. Rohde,\n_Psyche_, 217.]\n\n[Footnote 22: _Fast._, v. 419 _ff._]\n\n[Footnote 23: Tertull., _De An._, 56.]\n\n[Footnote 24: _N.H._, 28. 2. 19.]\n\n\n\n\nII\n\nTHE BELIEF IN GHOSTS IN GREECE AND ROME\n\n\nGhost stories play a very subordinate part in classical literature, as\nis only to be expected. The religion of the hard-headed, practical Roman\nwas essentially formal, and consisted largely in the exact performance\nof an elaborate ritual. His relations with the dead were regulated with\na care that might satisfy the most litigious of ghosts, and once a man\nhad carried out his part of the bargain, he did not trouble his head\nfurther about his deceased ancestors, so long as he felt that they, in\ntheir turn, were not neglecting his interests. Yet the average man in\nRome was glad to free himself from burdensome and expensive duties\ntowards the dead that had come down to him from past generations, and\nthe ingenuity of the lawyers soon devised a system of sham sales by\nwhich this could be successfully and honourably accomplished.[25]\n\nGreek religion, it is true, found expression to a large extent in\nmythology; but the sanity of the Greek genius in its best days kept it\nfree from excessive superstition. Not till the invasion of the\nWest by the cults of the East do we find ghosts and spirits at all\ncommon in literature.\n\nThe belief in apparitions existed, however, at all times, even among\neducated people. The younger Pliny, for instance, writes to ask his\nfriend Sura for his opinion as to whether ghosts have a real existence,\nwith a form of their own, and are of divine origin, or whether they are\nmerely empty air, owing their definite shape to our superstitious fears.\n\nWe must not forget that Suetonius, whose superstition has become\nproverbial, was a friend of Pliny, and wrote to him on one occasion,\nbegging him to procure the postponement of a case in which he was\nengaged, as he had been frightened by a dream. Though Pliny certainly\ndid not possess his friend's amazing credulity, he takes the request\nwith becoming seriousness, and promises to do his best; but he adds that\nthe real question is whether Suetonius's dreams are usually true or not.\nHe then relates how he himself once had a vision of his mother-in-law,\nof all people, appearing to him and begging him to abandon a case he had\nundertaken. In spite of this awful warning he persevered, however, and\nit was well that he did so, for the case proved the beginning of his\nsuccessful career at the Bar.[26] His uncle, the elder Pliny, seems to\nhave placed more faith in his dreams, and wrote his account of the\nGerman wars entirely because he dreamt that Drusus appeared to him and\nimplored him to preserve his name from oblivion.[27]\n\nThe Plinies were undoubtedly two of the ablest and most enlightened men\nof their time; and the belief in the value of dreams is certainly not\nextinct among us yet. If we possess Artemidorus's book on the subject\nfor the ancient world, we have also the \"Smorfia\" of to-day, so dear to\nthe heart of the lotto-playing Neapolitan, which assigns a special\nnumber to every conceivable subject that can possibly occur in a\ndream--not excluding \"u murtu che parl'\" (the dead man that speaks)--for\nthe guidance of the believing gambler in selecting the numbers he is to\nplay for the week.\n\nPlutarch placed great faith in ghosts and visions. In his Life of\nDion[28] he notes the singular fact that both Dion and Brutus were\nwarned of their approaching deaths by a frightful spectre. \"It has been\nmaintained,\" he adds, \"that no man in his senses ever saw a ghost: that\nthese are the delusive visions of women and children, or of men whose\nintellects are impaired by some physical infirmity, and who believe that\ntheir diseased imaginations are of divine origin. But if Dion and\nBrutus, men of strong and philosophic minds, whose understandings were\nnot affected by any constitutional infirmity--if such men could place so\nmuch faith in the appearance of spectres as to give an account of them\nto their friends, I see no reason why we should depart from the opinion\nof the ancients that men had their evil genii, who disturbed them with\nfears and distressed their virtues ...\"\n\nIn the opening of the _Philopseudus_, Lucian asks what it is that makes\nmen so fond of a lie, and comments on their delight in romancing\nthemselves, which is only equalled by the earnest attention with which\nthey receive other people's efforts in the same direction. Tychiades\ngoes on to describe his visit to Eucrates, a distinguished philosopher,\nwho was ill in bed. With him were a Stoic, a Peripatetic, a Pythagorean,\na Platonist, and a doctor, who began to tell stories so absurd and\nabounding in such monstrous superstition that he ended by leaving them\nin disgust. None of us have, of course, ever been present at similar\ngatherings, where, after starting with the inevitable Glamis mystery,\neverybody in the room has set to work to outdo his neighbour in\nmarvellous yarns, drawing on his imagination for additional material,\nand, like Eucrates, being ready to stake the lives of his children on\nhis veracity.\n\nAnother scoffer was Democritus of Abdera, who was so firmly convinced of\nthe non-existence of ghosts that he took up his abode in a tomb and\nlived there night and day for a long time. Classical ghosts seem to have\naffected black rather than white as their favourite colour. Among the\nfeatures of the gruesome entertainments with which Domitian loved to\nterrify his Senators were handsome boys, who appeared naked with their\nbodies painted black, like ghosts, and performed a wild dance.[29] On\nthe following day one of them was generally sent as a present to each\nSenator. Some boys in the neighbourhood wished to shake Democritus's\nunbelief, so they dressed themselves in black with masks like skulls\nupon their heads and danced round the tomb where he lived. But, to their\nannoyance, he only put his head out and told them to go away and stop\nplaying the fool.\n\nThe Greek and Roman stories hardly come up to the standards required by\nthe Society for Psychical Research. They are purely popular, and the\nghost is regarded as the deceased person, permitted or condemned by the\npowers of the lower world to hold communication with survivors on earth.\nNaturally, they were never submitted to critical inquiry, and there is\nno foreshadowing of any of the modern theories, that the phenomenon, if\ncaused by the deceased, is not necessarily the deceased, though it may\nbe an indication that \"some kind of force is being exercised after death\nwhich is in some way connected with a person previously known on earth,\"\nor that the apparitions may be purely local, or due entirely to\nsubjective hallucination on the part of the person beholding them.\nStrangely enough, we rarely find any of those interesting cases,\neverywhere so well attested, of people appearing just about the time of\ntheir death to friends or relatives to whom they are particularly\nattached, or with whom they have made a compact that they will appear,\nshould they die first, if it is possible. The classical instance of this\nis the well-known story of Lord Brougham who, while taking a warm bath\nin Sweden, saw a school friend whom he had not met for many years, but\nwith whom he had long ago \"committed the folly of drawing up an\nagreement written with our blood, to the effect that whichever of us\ndied first should appear to the other, and thus solve any doubts we had\nentertained of the life after death.\" There are, however, a number of\nstories of the passing of souls, which are curiously like some of those\ncollected by the Society for Psychical Research, in the Fourth Book of\nGregory the Great's Dialogues.\n\nAnother noticeable difference is that apparitions in most\nwell-authenticated modern ghost stories are of a comforting character,\nwhereas those in the ancient world are nearly all the reverse. This\ndifference we may attribute to the entire change in the aspect of the\nfuture life which we owe to modern Christianity. As we have seen, there\nwas little that was comforting in the life after death as conceived by\nthe old pagan religions, while in medieval times the horrors of hell\nwere painted in the most lurid colours, and were emphasized more than\nthe joys of heaven.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 25: Cic., _Murena_, 27.]\n\n[Footnote 26: _Ep._, i. 18.]\n\n[Footnote 27: _Ibid._, 3. 5. 4.]\n\n[Footnote 28: Chap. II]\n\n[Footnote 29: Dio Cass., _Domitian_, 9.]\n\n\n\n\nIII\n\nSTORIES OF HAUNTING\n\n\nIn a letter to Sura[30] the younger Pliny gives us what may be taken as\na prototype of all later haunted-house stories. At one time in Athens\nthere was a roomy old house where nobody could be induced to live. In\nthe dead of night the sound of clanking chains would be heard, distant\nat first, proceeding doubtless from the garden behind or the inner court\nof the house, then gradually drawing nearer and nearer, till at last\nthere appeared the figure of an old man with a long beard, thin and\nemaciated, with chains on his hands and feet. The house was finally\nabandoned, and advertised to be let or sold at an absurdly low price.\nThe philosopher Athenodorus read the notice on his arrival in Athens,\nbut the smallness of the sum asked aroused his suspicions. However, as\nsoon as he heard the story he took the house. He had his bed placed in\nthe front court, close to the main door, dismissed his slaves, and\nprepared to pass the night there, reading and writing, in order to\nprevent his thoughts from wandering to the ghost. He worked on for some\ntime without anything happening; but at last the clanking of chains was\nheard in the distance. Athenodorus did not raise his eyes or stop his\nwork, but kept his attention fixed and listened. The sounds gradually\ndrew nearer, and finally entered the room where he was sitting. Then he\nturned round and saw the apparition. It beckoned him to follow, but he\nsigned to it to wait and went on with his work. Not till it came and\nclanked its chains over his very head would he take up a lamp and follow\nit. The figure moved slowly forward, seemingly weighed down with its\nheavy chains, until it reached an open space in the courtyard. There it\nvanished. Athenodorus marked the spot with leaves and grass, and on the\nnext day the ground was dug up in the presence of a magistrate, when the\nskeleton of a man with some rusty chains was discovered. The remains\nwere buried with all ceremony, and the apparition was no more seen.\n\nLucian tells the same story in the _Philopseudus_, with some ridiculous\nadditions, thoroughly in keeping with the surroundings.\n\nAn almost exactly similar story has been preserved by Robert Wodrow, the\nindefatigable collector, in a notebook which he appears to have intended\nto be the foundation of a scientific collection of marvellous tales.\nWodrow died early in the eighteenth century. Gilbert Rule, the founder\nand first Principal of Edinburgh University, once reached a desolate inn\nin a lonely spot on the Grampians. The inn was full, and they were\nobliged to make him up a bed in a house near-by that had been vacant for\nthirty years. \"He walked some time in the room,\" says Wodrow,[31] \"and\ncommitted himself to God's protection, and went to bed. There were two\ncandles left on the table, and these he put out. There was a large\nbright fire remaining. He had not been long in bed till the room door is\nopened and an apparition in shape of a country tradesman came in, and\nopened the curtains without speaking a word. Mr. Rule was resolved to do\nnothing till it should speak or attack him, but lay still with full\ncomposure, committing himself to the Divine protection and conduct. The\napparition went to the table, lighted the two candles, brought them to\nthe bedside, and made some steps toward the door, looking still to the\nbed, as if he would have Mr. Rule rising and following. Mr. Rule still\nlay still, till he should see his way further cleared. Then the\napparition, who the whole time spoke none, took an effectual way to\nraise the doctor. He carried back the candles to the table and went to\nthe fire, and with the tongs took down the kindled coals, and laid them\non the deal chamber floor. The doctor then thought it time to rise and\nput on his clothes, in the time of which the spectre laid up the coals\nagain in the chimney, and, going to the table, lifted the candles and\nwent to the door, opened it, still looking to the Principal, as he would\nhave him following the candles, which he now, thinking there was\nsomething extraordinary in the case, after looking to God for direction,\ninclined to do. The apparition went down some steps with the candles,\nand carried them into a long trance, at the end of which there was a\nstair which carried down to a low room. This the spectre went down, and\nstooped, and set down the lights on the lowest step of the stair, and\nstraight disappears.\"\n\n\"The learned Principal,\" continues Burton, \"whose courage and coolness\ndeserve the highest commendation, lighted himself back to bed with the\ncandles, and took the remainder of his rest undisturbed. Being a man of\ngreat sagacity, on ruminating over his adventure, he informed the\nSheriff of the county 'that he was much of the mind there was murder in\nthe case.' The stone whereon the candles were placed was raised, and\nthere 'the plain remains of a human body were found, and bones, to the\nconviction of all.' It was supposed to be an old affair, however, and no\ntraces could be got of the murderer. Rule undertook the functions of the\ndetective, and pressed into the service the influence of his own\nprofession. He preached a great sermon on the occasion, to which all the\nneighbouring people were summoned; and behold in the time of his sermon,\nan old man near eighty years was awakened, and fell a-weeping, and\nbefore the whole company acknowledged that at the building of that\nhouse, he was the murderer.\"\n\nThe main features of the story have changed very little in the course of\nages, except in the important point of the conviction of the murderer,\nwhich would have been effected in a very different way in a Greek story.\nDoubtless a similar tale could be found in the folk-lore of almost any\nnation.\n\nPlutarch[32] relates how, in his native city of Chaeronaea, a certain\nDamon had been murdered in some baths. Ghosts continued to haunt the\nspot ever afterwards, and mysterious groans were heard, so that at last\nthe doors were walled up. \"And to this very day,\" he continues, \"those\nwho live in the neighbourhood imagine that they see strange sights and\nare terrified with cries of sorrow.\"\n\nIt is quite clear from Plautus that ghost stories, even if not taken\nvery seriously, aroused a wide-spread interest in the average Roman of\nhis day, just as they do in the average Briton of our own. They were\ndoubtless discussed in a half-joking way. The apparitions were generally\nbelieved to frighten people, just as they are at present, though the\nwell-authenticated stories of such occurrences would seem to show that\ngenuine ghosts, or whatever one likes to call them, have the power of\nparalyzing fear.\n\nIn the _Mostellaria_,[33] Plautus uses a ghost as a recognized piece of\nsupernatural machinery. The regulation father of Roman comedy has gone\naway on a journey, and in the meantime the son has, as usual, almost\nreached the end of his father's fortune. The father comes back\nunexpectedly, and the son turns in despair to his faithful slave,\nTranio, for help. Tranio is equal to the occasion, and undertakes to\nfrighten the inconvenient parent away again. He gives an account of an\napparition that has been seen, and has announced that it is the ghost of\na stranger from over-seas, who has been dead for six years.\n\n\"Here must I dwell,\" it had declared, \"for the gods of the lower world\nwill not receive me, seeing that I died before my time. My host murdered\nme, his guest, villain that he was, for the gold that I carried, and\nsecretly buried me, without funeral rites, in this house. Be gone hence,\ntherefore, for it is accursed and unholy ground.\" This story is enough\nfor the father. He takes the advice, and does not return till Tranio and\nhis dutiful son are quite ready for him.\n\nGreat battlefields are everywhere believed to be haunted. Tacitus[34]\nrelates how, when Titus was besieging Jerusalem, armies were seen\nfighting in the sky; and at a much later date, after a great battle\nagainst Attila and the Huns, under the walls of Rome, the ghosts of the\ndead fought for three days and three nights, and the clash of their arms\nwas distinctly heard.[35] Marathon is no exception to the rule.\nPausanias[36] says that any night you may hear horses neighing and men\nfighting there. To go on purpose to see the sight never brought good to\nany man; but with him who unwittingly lights upon it the spirits are not\nangry. He adds that the people of Marathon worship the men who fell in\nthe battle as heroes; and who could be more worthy of such honour than\nthey? The battle itself was not without its marvellous side. Epizelus,\nthe Athenian, used to relate how a huge hoplite, whose beard\nover-shadowed all his shield, stood over against him in the thick of the\nfight. The apparition passed him by and killed the man next him, but\nEpizelus came out of the battle blind, and remained so for the rest of\nhis life.[37] Plutarch[38] also relates of a place in Boeotia where a\nbattle had been fought, that there is a stream running by, and that\npeople imagine that they hear panting horses in the roaring waters.\n\nBut the strangest account of the habitual haunting of great battlefields\nis to be found in Philostratus's _Heroica_, which represents the spirits\nof the Homeric heroes as still closely connected with Troy and its\nneighbourhood. How far the stories are based on local tradition it is\nimpossible to say; they are told by a vine-dresser, who declares that he\nlives under the protection of Protesilaus. At one time he was in danger\nof being violently ousted from all his property, when the ghost of\nProtesilaus appeared to the would-be despoiler in a vision, and struck\nhim blind. The great man was so terrified at this event that he carried\nhis depredations no further; and the vine-dresser has since continued to\ncultivate what remained of his property under the protection of the\nhero, with whom he lives on most intimate terms. Protesilaus often\nappears to him while he is at work and has long talks with him, and he\nkeeps off wild beasts and disease from the land.\n\nNot only Protesilaus, but also his men, and, in fact, virtually all of\nthe \"giants of the mighty bone and bold emprise\" who fought round Troy,\ncan be seen on the plain at night, clad like warriors, with nodding\nplumes. The inhabitants are keenly interested in these apparitions, and\nwell they may be, as so much depends upon them. If the heroes are\ncovered with dust, a drought is impending; if with sweat, they\nforeshadow rain. Blood upon their arms means a plague; but if they show\nthemselves without any distinguishing mark, all will be well.\n\nThough the heroes are dead, they cannot be insulted with impunity. Ajax\nwas popularly believed, owing to the form taken by his madness, to be\nespecially responsible for any misfortune that might befall flocks and\nherds. On one occasion some shepherds, who had had bad luck with their\ncattle, surrounded his tomb and abused him, bringing up all the weak\npoints in his earthly career recorded by Homer. At last they went too\nfar for his patience, and a terrible voice was heard in the tomb and the\nclash of armour. The offenders fled in terror, but came to no harm.\n\nOn another occasion some strangers were playing at draughts near his\nshrine, when Ajax appeared and begged them to stop, as the game reminded\nhim of Palamedes.\n\nHector was a far more dangerous person. Maximus of Tyre[39] says that\nthe people of Ilium often see him bounding over the plain at dead of\nnight in flashing armour--a truly Homeric picture. Maximus cannot,\nindeed, boast of having seen Hector, though he also has had his visions\nvouchsafed him. He had seen Castor and Pollux, like twin stars, above\nhis ship, steering it through a storm. AEsculapius also he has\nseen--not in a dream, by Hercules, but with his waking eyes. But to\nreturn to Hector. Philostratus says that one day an unfortunate boy\ninsulted him in the same way in which the shepherds had treated Ajax.\nHomer, however, did not satisfy this boy, and as a parting shaft he\ndeclared that the statue in Ilium did not really represent Hector, but\nAchilles. Nothing happened immediately, but not long afterwards, while\nthe boy was driving a team of ponies, Hector appeared in the form of a\nwarrior in a brook which was, as a rule, so small as not even to have a\nname. He was heard shouting in a foreign tongue as he pursued the boy in\nthe stream, finally overtaking and drowning him with his ponies. The\nbodies were never afterwards recovered.\n\nPhilostratus gives us a quantity of details about the Homeric heroes,\nwhich the vine-dresser has picked up in his talks with Protesilaus. Most\nof the heroes can be easily recognized. Achilles, for instance, enters\ninto conversation with various people, and goes out hunting. He can be\nrecognized by his height and his beauty and his bright armour; and as he\nrushes past he is usually accompanied by a whirlwind--[Greek: podarkes,\ndios], even after death.\n\nThen we hear the story of the White Isle. Helen and Achilles fell in\nlove with one another, though they had never met--the one hidden in\nEgypt, the other fighting before Troy. There was no place near Troy\nsuited for their eternal life together, so Thetis appealed to Poseidon\nto give them an island home of their own. Poseidon consented, and the\nWhite Isle rose up in the Black Sea, near the mouth of the Danube. There\nAchilles and Helen, the manliest of men and the most feminine of women,\nfirst met and first embraced; and Poseidon himself, and Amphitrite, and\nall the Nereids, and as many river gods and spirits as dwell near the\nEuxine and Maeotis, came to the wedding. The island is thickly covered\nwith white trees and with elms, which grow in regular order round the\nshrine; and on it there dwell certain white birds, fragrant of the salt\nsea, which Achilles is said to have tamed to his will, so that they keep\nthe glades cool, fanning them with their wings and scattering spray as\nthey fly along the ground, scarce rising above it. To men sailing over\nthe broad bosom of the sea the island is holy when they disembark, for\nit lies like a hospitable home to their ships. But neither those who\nsail thither, nor the Greeks and barbarians living round the Black Sea,\nmay build a house upon it; and all who anchor and sacrifice there must\ngo on board at sunset. No man may pass the night upon the isle, and no\nwoman may even land there. If the wind is favourable, ships must sail\naway; if not, they must put out and anchor in the bay and sleep on\nboard. For at night men say that Achilles and Helen drink together, and\nsing of each other's love, and of the war, and of Homer. Now that his\nbattles are over, Achilles cultivates the gift of song he had received\nfrom Calliope. Their voices ring out clear and godlike over the water,\nand the sailors sit trembling with emotion as they listen. Those who\nhad anchored there declared that they had heard the neighing of horses,\nand the clash of arms, and shouts such as are raised in battle.\n\nMaximus of Tyre[40] also describes the island, and tells how sailors\nhave often seen a fair-haired youth dancing a war-dance in golden armour\nupon it; and how once, when one of them unwittingly slept there,\nAchilles woke him, and took him to his tent and entertained him.\nPatroclus poured the wine and Achilles played the lyre, while Thetis\nherself is said to have been present with a choir of other deities.\n\nIf they anchor to the north or the south of the island, and a breeze\nsprings up that makes the harbours dangerous, Achilles warns them, and\nbids them change their anchorage and avoid the wind. Sailors relate how,\n\"when they first behold the island, they embrace each other and burst\ninto tears of joy. Then they put in and kiss the land, and go to the\ntemple to pray and to sacrifice to Achilles.\" Victims stand ready of\ntheir own accord at the altar, according to the size of the ship and the\nnumber of those on board.\n\nPausanias also mentions the White Isle.[41] On one occasion, Leonymus,\nwhile leading the people of Croton against the Italian Locrians,\nattacked the spot where he was informed that Ajax Oileus, on whom the\npeople of Locris had called for help, was posted in the van. According\nto Conon,[42] who, by the way, calls the hero Autoleon, when the people\nof Croton went to war, they also left a vacant space for Ajax in the\nforefront of their line. However this may be, Leonymus was wounded in\nthe breast, and as the wound refused to heal and weakened him\nconsiderably, he applied to Delphi for advice. The god told him to sail\nto the White Isle, where Ajax would heal him of his wound. Thither,\ntherefore, he went, and was duly healed. On his return he described what\nhe had seen--how that Achilles was now married to Helen; and it was\nLeonymus who told Stesichorus that his blindness was due to Helen's\nwrath, and thus induced him to write the _Palinode_.\n\nAchilles himself is once said to have appeared to a trader who\nfrequently visited the island. They talked of Troy, and then the hero\ngave him wine, and bade him sail away and fetch him a certain Trojan\nmaiden who was the slave of a citizen of Ilium. The trader was surprised\nat the request, and ventured to ask why he wanted a Trojan slave.\nAchilles replied that it was because she was of the same race as Hector\nand his ancestors, and of the blood of the sons of Priam and Dardanus.\nThe trader thought that Achilles was in love with the girl, whom he duly\nbrought with him on his next visit to the island. Achilles thanked him,\nand bade him keep her on board the ship, doubtless because women were\nnot allowed to land. In the evening he was entertained by Achilles and\nHelen, and his host gave him a large sum of money, promising to make\nhim his guest-friend and to bring luck to his ship and his business. At\ndaybreak Achilles dismissed him, telling him to leave the girl on the\nshore. When they had gone about a furlong from the island, a horrible\ncry from the maiden reached their ears, and they saw Achilles tearing\nher to pieces, rending her limb from limb.\n\nIn this brutal savage it is impossible to recognize Homer's chivalrous\nhero, who sacrificed the success of a ten years' war, fought originally\nfor the recovery of one woman, to his grief at the loss of another, and\nhas thus made it possible to describe the _Iliad_ as the greatest\nlove-poem ever written. One cannot help feeling that Pindar's Isle of\nthe Blest, whither he was brought by Thetis, whose mother's prayer had\nmoved the Heart of Zeus, to dwell with Cadmus and Peleus, is Achilles'\ntrue home; or the isle of the heroes of all time, described by Carducci,\nwhere King Lear sits telling OEdipus of his sufferings, and Cordelia\ncalls to Antigone, \"Come, my Greek sister! We will sing of peace to our\nfathers.\" Helen and Iseult, silent and thoughtful, roam under the shade\nof the myrtles, while the setting sun kisses their golden hair with its\nreddening rays. Helen gazes across the sea, but King Mark opens his arms\nto Iseult, and the fair head sinks on the mighty beard. Clytemnestra\nstands by the shore with the Queen of Scots. They bathe their white arms\nin the waves, but the waves recoil swollen with red blood, while the\nwailing of the hapless women echoes along the rocky strand. Among these\nheroic souls Shelley alone of modern poets--that Titan spirit in a\nmaiden's form--may find a place, according to Carducci, caught up by\nSophocles from the living embrace of Thetis.[43]\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 30: _Ep._, vii. 27.]\n\n[Footnote 31: Burton's _The Book-Hunter: Robert Wodrow_.]\n\n[Footnote 32: _Cimon_, i.]\n\n[Footnote 33: II. 5. 67.]\n\n[Footnote 34: _Hist._, v. 13.]\n\n[Footnote 35: Damascius, _Vita Isidori_, 63.]\n\n[Footnote 36: I. 32. 4.]\n\n[Footnote 37: Herod., vi. 117.]\n\n[Footnote 38: _Parallel_, 7.]\n\n[Footnote 39: _Dissert._, 15. 7.]\n\n[Footnote 40: _Dissert._, 15. 7.]\n\n[Footnote 41: 3. 19. 12.]\n\n[Footnote 42: _Narr._, 18.]\n\n[Footnote 43: G. Carducci, \"Presso l'urna di P.B. Shelley,\" in the _Odi\nBarbare_.]\n\n\n\n\nIV\n\nNECROMANCY\n\n\nThe belief that it was possible to call up the souls of the dead by\nmeans of spells was almost universal in antiquity. We know that even\nSaul, who had himself cut off those that had familiar spirits and the\nwizards out of the land, disguised himself and went with two others to\nconsult the witch of En-dor; that she called up the spirit of Samuel at\nhis request; that Samuel asked Saul, \"Why hast thou disquieted me, to\nbring me up?\" and then prophesied his ruin and death at the hands of the\nPhilistines at Mount Gilboa. We find frequent references to the practice\nin classical literature. The elder Pliny[44] gives us the interesting\ninformation that spirits refuse to obey people afflicted with freckles.\n\nThere were always certain spots hallowed by tradition as particularly\nfavourable to intercourse with the dead, or even as being actual\nentrances to the lower world. For instance, at Heraclea in Pontus there\nwas a famous [Greek: psychomanteion], or place where the souls of the\ndead could be conjured up and consulted, as Hercules was believed to\nhave dragged Cerberus up to earth here. Other places supposed to be\nconnected with this myth had a similar legend attached to them, as also\ndid all places where Pluto was thought to have carried off Persephone.\nThus we hear of entrances to Hades at Eleusis,[45] at Colonus,[46] at\nEnna in Sicily,[47] and finally at the lovely pool of Cyane, up the\nAnapus River, near Syracuse, one of the few streams in which the papyrus\nstill flourishes.[48] Lakes and seas also were frequently believed to be\nentrances to Hades.[49]\n\nThe existence of sulphurous fumes easily gave rise to a belief that\ncertain places were in direct communication with the lower world. This\nwas the case at Cumae where AEneas consulted the Sybil, and at Colonus;\nwhile at Hierapolis in Phrygia there was a famous \"Plutonium,\" which\ncould only be safely approached by the priests of Cybele.[50] It was\nsituated under a temple of Apollo, a real entrance to Hades; and it is\ndoubtless to this that Cicero refers when he speaks of the deadly\n\"Plutonia\" he had seen in Asia.[51] These \"Plutonia\" or \"Charonia\" are,\nin fact, places where mephitic vapours exist, like the Grotto del Cane\nand other spots in the neighbourhood of Naples and Pozzuoli. The priests\nmust either have become used to the fumes, or have learnt some means of\ncounteracting them; otherwise their lives can hardly have been more\npleasant than that of the unfortunate dog which used to be exhibited in\nthe Naples grotto, though the control of these very realistic entrances\nto the kingdom of Pluto must have been a very profitable business, well\nworth a little personal inconvenience. Others are mentioned by Strabo at\nMagnesia and Myus,[52] and there was one at Cyllene, in Arcadia.\n\nIn addition to these there were numerous special temples or places where\nthe souls of the dead, which were universally thought to possess a\nknowledge of the future, could be called up and consulted--e.g., the\ntemple at Phigalia, in Arcadia, used by Pausanias, the Spartan\ncommander;[53] or the [Greek: nekyomanteion], the oracle of the dead, by\nthe River Acheron, in Threspotia, to which Periander, the famous tyrant\nof Corinth, had recourse;[54] and it was here, according to Pausanias,\nthat Orpheus went down to the lower world in search of Eurydice.\n\nLucian[55] tells us that it was only with Pluto's permission that the\ndead could return to life, and they were invariably accompanied by\nMercury. Consequently, both these gods were regularly invoked in the\nprayers and spells used on such occasions. Only the souls of those\nrecently dead were, as a rule, called up, for it was naturally held that\nthey would feel greater interest in the world they had just left, and in\nthe friends and relations still alive, to whom they were really\nattached. Not that it was impossible to evoke the ghosts of those long\ndead, if it was desired. Even Orpheus and Cecrops were not beyond reach\nof call, and Apollonius of Tyana claimed to have raised the shade of\nAchilles.[56]\n\nAll oracles were originally sacred to Persephone and Pluto, and relied\nlargely on necromancy, a snake being the emblem of prophetic power.\nHence, when Apollo, the god of light, claimed possession of the oracles\nas the conqueror of darkness, the snake was twined round his tripod as\nan emblem, and his priestess was called Pythia. When Alexander set up\nhis famous oracle, as described by Lucian, the first step taken in\nestablishing its reputation was the finding of a live snake in an egg in\na lake. The find had, of course, been previously arranged by Alexander\nand his confederates.\n\nWe still possess accounts of the working of these oracles of the dead,\nespecially of the one connected with the Lake of Avernus, near Naples.\nCicero[57] describes how, from this lake, \"shades, the spirits of the\ndead, are summoned in the dense gloom of the mouth of Acheron with salt\nblood\"; and Strabo quotes the early Greek historian Ephorus as relating\nhow, even in his day, \"the priests that raise the dead from Avernus live\nin underground dwellings, communicating with each other by subterranean\npassages, through which they led those who wished to consult the oracle\nhidden in the bowels of the earth.\" \"Not far from the lake of Avernus,\"\nsays Maximus of Tyre, \"was an oracular cave, which took its name from\nthe calling up of the dead. Those who came to consult the oracle, after\nrepeating the sacred formula and offering libations and slaying victims,\ncalled upon the spirit of the friend or relation they wished to consult.\nThen it appeared, an unsubstantial shade, difficult both to see and to\nrecognize, yet endowed with a human voice and skilled in prophecy. When\nit had answered the questions put to it, it vanished.\" One is at once\nstruck with the similarity of this account to those of the\nspiritualistic seances of the famous Eusapia in the same part of the\nworld, not so very long ago. In most cases those consulting the oracle\nwould probably be satisfied with hearing the voice of the dead man, or\nwith a vision of him in sleep, so that some knowledge of ventriloquism\nor power of hypnotism or suggestion would often be ample stock-in-trade\nfor those in charge.\n\nThis consulting of the dead must have been very common in antiquity.\nBoth Plato[58] and Euripides[59] mention it; and the belief that the\ndead have a knowledge of the future, which seems to be ingrained in\nhuman nature, gave these oracles great power. Thus, Cicero tells[60] us\nthat Appius often consulted \"soul-oracles\" (psychomantia), and also\nmentions a man having recourse to one when his son was seriously\nill.[61] The poets have, of course, made free use of this supposed\nprophetic power of the dead. The shade of Polydorus, for instance,\nspeaks the prologue of the Hecuba, while the appearance of the dead\nCreusa in the _AEneid_ is known to everyone. In the _Persae_, AEschylus\nmakes the shade of Darius ignorant of all that has happened since his\ndeath, and is thus able to introduce his famous description of the\nbattle of Salamis; but Darius, nevertheless, possesses a knowledge of\nthe future, and can therefore give us an equally vivid account of the\nbattle of Plataea, which had not yet taken place. The shade of\nClytemnestra in the _Eumenides_, however, does not prophesy.\n\nPliny mentions the belief that the dead had prophetic powers, but\ndeclares that they could not always be relied on, as the following\ninstance proves.[62] During the Sicilian war, Gabienus, the bravest man\nin Caesar's fleet, was captured by Sextus Pompeius, and beheaded by his\norders. For a whole day the corpse lay upon the shore, the head almost\nsevered from the body. Then, towards evening, a large crowd assembled,\nattracted by his groans and prayers; and he begged Sextus Pompeius\neither to come to him himself or to send some of his friends; for he had\nreturned from the dead, and had something to tell him. Pompeius sent\nfriends, and Gabienus informed them that Pompeius's cause found favour\nwith the gods below, and was the right cause, and that he was bidden to\nannounce that all would end as he wished. To prove the truth of what he\nsaid, he announced that he would die immediately, as he actually did.\n\nThis knowledge of the future by the dead is to be found in more than one\nwell-authenticated modern ghost story, where the apparition would seem\nto have manifested itself for the express purpose of warning those whom\nit has loved on earth of approaching danger. We may take, for instance,\nthe story[63] where a wife, who is lying in bed with her husband,\nsuddenly sees a gentleman dressed in full naval uniform sitting on the\nbed. She was too astonished for fear, and waked her husband, who \"for a\nsecond or two lay looking in intense astonishment at the intruder; then,\nlifting himself a little, he shouted: 'What on earth are you doing here,\nsir?' Meanwhile the form, slowly drawing himself into an upright\nposition, now said in a commanding, yet reproachful voice, 'Willie!\nWillie!' and then vanished.\" Her husband got up, unlocked the door, and\nsearched the house, but found nothing. On his return he informed his\nwife that the form was that of his father, whom she had never seen. He\nhad left the navy before this son was born, and the son had, therefore,\nonly seen his father in uniform a very few times. It afterwards came out\nthat her husband was about to engage in some speculations which, had he\ndone so, would have proved his ruin; but, fortunately, this vision of\nhis father made such an impression on him that he abandoned the idea\naltogether.\n\nLucan[64] describes how Sextus Pompeius went to consult Erichtho, one of\nthe famous Thessalian witches, as to the prospects of his father's\nsuccess against Caesar, during the campaign that ended in the disastrous\ndefeat at Pharsalia. It is decided that a dead man must be called back\nto life, and Erichtho goes out to where a recent skirmish has taken\nplace, and chooses the body of a man whose throat had been cut, which\nwas lying there unburied. She drags it back to her cave, and fills its\nbreast with warm blood. She has chosen a man recently dead, because his\nwords are more likely to be clear and distinct, which might not be the\ncase with one long accustomed to the world below. She then washes it,\nuses various magic herbs and potions, and prays to the gods of the lower\nworld. At last she sees the shade of the man, whose lifeless body lies\nstretched before her, standing close by and gazing upon the limbs it had\nleft and the hated bonds of its former prison. Furious at the delay and\nthe slow working of her spells, she seizes a live serpent and lashes the\ncorpse with it. Even the last boon of death, the power of dying, is\ndenied the poor wretch. Slowly the life returns to the body, and\nErichtho promises that if the man speaks the truth she will bury him so\neffectually that no spells will ever be able to call him back to life\nagain. He is weak and faint, like a dying man, but finally tells her all\nshe wishes to know, and dies once again. She fulfills her promise and\nburns the body, using every kind of magic spell to make it impossible\nfor anyone to trouble the shade again. Indeed, it seems to have been\nunusual to summon a shade from the lower world more than once, except\nin the case of very famous persons. This kind of magic was nearly always\ncarried on at night. Statius[65] has also given us a long and\ncharacteristically elaborate account of the calling up of the shade of\nLaius by Eteocles and Tiresias.\n\nApuleius,[66] in his truly astounding account of Thessaly in his day,\ngives a detailed description of the process of calling back a corpse to\nlife. \"The prophet then took a certain herb and laid it thrice upon the\nmouth of the dead man, placing another upon the breast. Then, turning\nhimself to the east with a silent prayer for the help of the holy sun,\nhe drew the attention of the audience to the great miracle he was\nperforming. Gradually the breast of the corpse began to swell in the act\nof breathing, the arteries to pulsate, and the body to be filled with\nlife. Finally the dead man sat up and asked why he had been brought back\nto life and not left in peace.\"\n\nOne is reminded of the dead man being carried out to burial who meets\nDionysus in Hades, in Aristophanes' _Frogs_, and expresses the wish that\nhe may be struck alive again if he does what is requested of him. If\nghosts are often represented as \"all loath to leave the body that they\nlove,\" they are generally quite as loath to return to it, when once they\nhave left it, though whether it is the process of returning or the\ncontinuance of a life which they have left that is distasteful to them\nis not very clear. The painfulness of the process of restoration to life\nafter drowning seems to favour the former explanation.\n\nThese cases of resurrection are, of course, quite different from\nordinary necromancy--the summoning of the shade of a dead man from the\nworld below, in order to ask its advice with the help of a professional\ndiviner. As religious faith decayed and the superstitions of the East\nand the belief in magic gained ground, necromancy became more and more\ncommon. Even Cicero charges Vatinius[67] with evoking the souls of the\ndead, and with being in the habit of sacrificing the entrails of boys to\nthe Manes. Tacitus mentions a young man trying to raise the dead by\nmeans of incantations,[68] while Pliny[69] speaks of necromancy as a\nrecognized branch of magic, and Origen classes it among the crimes of\nthe magicians in his own day.\n\nAfter murdering his mother, Nero often declared that he was troubled by\nher spirit and by the lashes and blazing torches of the Furies.[70] One\nwould imagine that the similarity of his crime and his punishment to\nthose of Orestes would have been singularly gratifying to a man of\nNero's theatrical temperament; yet we are informed that he often tried\nto call up her ghost and lay it with the help of magic rites. Nero,\nhowever, took particular pleasure in raising the spirits of the dead,\naccording to the Elder Pliny,[71] who adds that not even the charms of\nhis own singing and acting had greater attractions for him.\n\nCaracalla, besides his bodily illnesses, was obviously insane and often\ntroubled with delusions, imagining that he was being driven out by his\nfather and also by his brother Geta, whom he had murdered in his\nmother's arms, and that they pursued him with drawn swords in their\nhands. At last, as a desperate resource, he endeavoured to find a cure\nby means of necromancy, and called up, among others, the shade of his\nfather, Septimius Severus, as well as that of Commodus. But they all\nrefused to speak to him, with the exception of Commodus; and it was even\nrumoured that the shade of Severus was accompanied by that of the\nmurdered Geta, though it had not been evoked by Caracalla. Nor had\nCommodus any comfort for him. He only terrified the suffering Emperor\nthe more by his ominous words.[72]\n\nPhilostratus[73] has described for us a famous interview which\nApollonius of Tyana maintained that he had had with the shade of\nAchilles. The philosopher related that it was not by digging a trench\nnor by shedding the blood of rams, like Odysseus, that he raised the\nghost of Achilles; but by prayers such as the Indians are said to make\nto their heroes. In his prayer to Achilles he said that, unlike most\nmen, he did not believe that the great warrior was dead, any more than\nhis master Pythagoras had done; and he begged him to show himself. Then\nthere was a slight earthquake shock, and a beautiful youth stood before\nhim, nine feet in height, wearing a Thessalian cloak. He did not look\nlike a boaster, as some men had thought him, and his expression, if\ngrim, was not unpleasant. No words could describe his beauty, which\nsurpassed anything imaginable. Meanwhile he had grown to be twenty feet\nhigh, and his beauty increased in proportion. His hair he had never cut.\nApollonius was allowed to ask him five questions, and accordingly asked\nfor information on five of the most knotty points in the history of the\nTrojan War--whether Helen was really in Troy, why Homer never mentions\nPalamedes, etc. Achilles answered him fully and correctly in each\ninstance. Then suddenly the cock crew, and, like Hamlet's father, he\nvanished from Apollonius's sight.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 44: _N.H._, 30. 1. 16.]\n\n[Footnote 45: _Hymn. Orph._, 18. 15.]\n\n[Footnote 46: Soph., _O.C._, 1590.]\n\n[Footnote 47: Cic., _Verr._, iv. 107.]\n\n[Footnote 48: Diodor., v. 4. 2.]\n\n[Footnote 49: Cp. Gruppe, _Griechische Mythologie und\nReligionsgeschichte_, p. 815, where the whole question is discussed in\ngreat detail.]\n\n[Footnote 50: Strabo, 13. 29, 30; Pliny, _N.H._, 2. 208.]\n\n[Footnote 51: _De Div._, i. 79.]\n\n[Footnote 52: Strabo, 14, 636; 12, 579.]\n\n[Footnote 53: Paus., 3. 17, 19.]\n\n[Footnote 54: Herod., v. 92.]\n\n[Footnote 55: _Dial. Deor._, 7. 4.]\n\n[Footnote 56: Philostr., _Apoll. Tyan._, 4. 16.]\n\n[Footnote 57: _Tusc. Disp._, 1. 16.]\n\n[Footnote 58: _Leg._, x. 909B.]\n\n[Footnote 59: _Alc._, 1128.]\n\n[Footnote 60: _De Div._, 1. 58.]\n\n[Footnote 61: _Tusc._, 1. 48.]\n\n[Footnote 62: Pliny, _N.H._, 7. 52, 178.]\n\n[Footnote 63: Myers, _Human Personality_, ii. 328, 329.]\n\n[Footnote 64: _Pharsal._, vi. _ad fin._]\n\n[Footnote 65: _Theb._, 4. 405 _ff._]\n\n[Footnote 66: _Met._, ii. 28.]\n\n[Footnote 67: _In Vat._, 6.]\n\n[Footnote 68: _An._, ii. 28.]\n\n[Footnote 69: _N.H._, 30. 5.]\n\n[Footnote 70: Suet., _Nero_, 34.]\n\n[Footnote 71: _N.H._, 30. 5]\n\n[Footnote 72: Dio Cassius, 77. 15.]\n\n[Footnote 73: _Apollon. Tyan._, 4. 16.]\n\n\n\n\nV\n\nVISIONS OF THE DEAD IN SLEEP\n\n\nIn most of the Greek and Roman stories that survive, the wraiths of the\ndead are represented as revisiting their friends on earth in sleep.\nThese instances I have not, as a rule, troubled to collect, for they\ncannot strictly be classed as ghost stories; but since the influence of\nthe dead was generally considered to be exercised in this way, I shall\ngive a few stories which seem particularly striking. That it was widely\nbelieved that the dead could return at night to those whom they loved is\nproved by the touching inscription in which a wife begs that her husband\nmay sometimes be allowed to revisit her in sleep, and that she may soon\njoin him.\n\nThe most interesting passage that has come down to us, dealing with the\nwhole question of the power of the dead to appear to those whom they\nlove in dreams, is undoubtedly Quintilian's Tenth Declamation. The fact\nthat the greatest teacher of rhetoric of his day actually chose it as a\nsubject for one of his model speeches shows how important a part it must\nhave played in the feelings of educated Romans of the time. The story is\nas follows.\n\nA mother was plunged in grief at the loss of her favourite son, when,\non the night of the funeral, which had been long delayed at her earnest\nrequest, the boy appeared to her in a vision, and remained with her all\nnight, kissing her and fondling her as if he were alive. He did not\nleave her till daybreak. \"All that survives of a son,\" says Quintilian,\n\"will remain in close communion with his mother when he dies.\" In her\nunselfishness, she begs her son not to withhold the comfort which he has\nbrought to her from his father. But the father, when he hears the story,\ndoes not at all relish the idea of a visit from his son's ghost, and is,\nin fact, terrified at the prospect. He says nothing to the mother, who\nhad moved the gods of the world above no less than those of the world\nbelow by the violence of her grief and the importunity of her prayers,\nbut at once sends for a sorcerer. As soon as he arrives, the sorcerer is\ntaken to the family tomb, which has its place in the city of the dead\nthat stretches along the highway from the town gate. The magic spell is\nwound about the grave, and the urn is finally sealed with the dread\nwords, until at last the hapless boy has become, in very truth, a\nlifeless shade. Finally, we are told, the sorcerer threw himself upon\nthe urn itself and breathed his spells into the very bones and ashes.\nThis at least he admitted, as he looked up: \"The spirit resists. Spells\nare not enough. We must close the grave completely and bind the stones\ntogether with iron.\" His suggestions are carried out, and at last he\ndeclares that all has been accomplished successfully. \"Now he is really\ndead. He cannot appear or come out. This night will prove the truth of\nmy words.\" The boy never afterwards appeared, either to his mother or to\nanyone else.\n\nThe mother is beside herself with grief. Her son's spirit, which had\nsuccessfully baffled the gods of the lower world in its desire to visit\nher, is now, thanks to these foreign spells, dashing itself against the\ntop of the grave, unable to understand the weight that has been placed\nupon it to keep it from escaping. Not only do the spells shut the boy\nin--he might possibly have broken through these--but the iron bands and\nsolid fastenings have once again brought him face to face with death.\nThis very realistic, if rather material, picture of a human soul mewed\nup for ever in the grave gives us a clear idea of the popular belief in\nRome about the future life, and enables us to realize the full meaning\nof the inscription, \"Sit tibi terra levis\" (May the earth press lightly\nupon thee), which is so common upon Roman tombs as often to be\nabbreviated to \"S.T.T.L.\"\n\nThe speech is supposed to be delivered in an action for cruelty[74]\nbrought by the wife against her husband, and in the course of it the\nfather is spoken of as a parricide for what he has done. He defends\nhimself by saying that he took the steps which are the cause of the\naction for his wife's peace of mind. To this plea it is answered that\nthe ghost of a son could never frighten a mother, though other spirits,\nif unknown to her, might conceivably do so.\n\nIn the course of the speech we are told that the spirit, when freed\nfrom the body, bathes itself in fire and makes for its home among the\nstars, where other fates await it. Then it remembers the body in which\nit once dwelt. Hence the dead return to visit those who once were dear\nto them on earth, and become oracles, and give us timely warnings, and\nare conscious of the victims we offer them, and welcome the honours paid\nthem at their tombs.\n\nThe Declamation ends, like most Roman speeches, with an appeal: in this\ncase to the sorcerer and the husband to remove the spells; especially to\nthe sorcerer, who has power to torture the gods above and the spirits of\nthe dead; who, by the terror of his midnight cries, can move the deepest\ncaves, can shake the very foundations of the earth. \"You are able both\nto call up the spirits that serve you and to act as their cruel and\nruthless gaoler. Listen for once to a mother's prayers, and let them\nsoften your heart.\"\n\nThen we have the story of Thrasyllus, as told by Apuleius,[75] which is\nthoroughly modern in its romantic tone. He was in love with the wife of\nhis friend, Tlepolemus, whom he treacherously murdered while out\nhunting. His crime is not discovered, and he begins to press his suit\nfor her hand to her parents almost immediately. The widow's grief is\nheart-rending. She refuses food and altogether neglects herself, hoping\nthat the gods will hear her prayer and allow her to rejoin her husband.\nAt last, however, she is persuaded by her parents, at Thrasyllus's\ninstance, to give ordinary care to her own health. But she passes her\ndays before the likeness of the deceased, which she has had made in the\nimage of that of the god Liber, paying it divine honours and finding her\none comfort in thus fomenting her own sufferings.\n\nWhen she hears of Thrasyllus's suit, she rejects it with scorn and\nhorror; and then at night her dead husband appears to her and describes\nexactly what happened, and begs her to avenge him. She requires no\nurging, and almost immediately decides on the course that her vengeance\nshall take. She has Thrasyllus informed that she cannot come to any\ndefinite decision till her year of mourning is over. Meanwhile, however,\nshe consents to receive his visits at night, and promises to arrange for\nher old nurse to let him in. Overjoyed at his success, Thrasyllus comes\nat the hour appointed, and is duly admitted by the old nurse. The house\nis in complete darkness, but he is given a cup of wine and left to\nhimself. The wine has been drugged, however, and he sinks into a deep\nslumber. Then Tlepolemus's widow comes and triumphs over her enemy, who\nhas fallen so easily into her hands. She will not kill him as he killed\nher husband. \"Neither the peace of death nor the joy of life shall be\nyours,\" she exclaims. \"You shall wander like a restless shade between\nOrcus and the light of day.... The blood of your eyes I shall offer up\nat the tomb of my beloved Tlepolemus, and with them I shall propitiate\nhis blessed spirit.\" At these words she takes a pin from her hair and\nblinds him. Then she rushes through the streets, with a sword in her\nhand to frighten anyone who might try to stop her, to her husband's\ntomb, where, after telling all her story, she slays herself.\n\nThither Thrasyllus followed her, declaring that he dedicated himself to\nthe Manes of his own free-will. He carefully shut the tomb upon himself,\nand starved himself to death.\n\nThis is by far the best of the stories in which we find a vision of the\ndead in sleep playing an important part; but there is also the\nwell-known tale of the Byzantine maiden Cleonice.[76] She was of high\nbirth, but had the misfortune to attract the attention of the Spartan\nPausanias, who was in command of the united Greek fleet at the\nHellespont after the battle of Plataea. Like many Spartans, when first\nbrought into contact with real luxury after his frugal upbringing at\nhome, he completely lost his mental balance, and grew intoxicated with\nthe splendour of his position, endeavouring to imitate the Persians in\ntheir manners, and even aspiring, it is said, to become tyrant of the\nwhole of Greece. Cleonice was brutally torn from her parents and brought\nto his room at night. He was asleep at the time, and being awakened by\nthe noise, he imagined that someone had broken into his room with the\nobject of murdering him, and snatched up a sword and killed her. After\nthis her ghost appeared to him every night, bidding him \"go to the fate\nwhich pride and lust prepare.\" He is said to have visited a temple at\nHeraclea, where he had her spirit called up and implored her pardon. She\nduly appeared, and told him that \"he would soon be delivered from all\nhis troubles after his return to Sparta\"--an ambiguous way of\nprophesying his death, which occurred soon afterwards. She was certainly\navenged in the manner of it.\n\nBefore leaving these stories of visions of the dead, we must not omit to\nmention that charming poem of Virgil's younger days, the _Culex_ (The\nGnat). Just as the first sketch of Macaulay's famous character of\nWilliam III. is said to be contained in a Cambridge prize essay on the\nsubject, so the _Culex_ contains the first draft of some of the greatest\npassages in Virgil's later works--the beautiful description of the\ncharms of country life in the _Georgics_, for instance, and the account\nof Tartarus in the sixth book of the _AEneid_. The story is slight, as\nwas usually the case in these little epics, where the purple patches are\nmore important than the plot. A shepherd falls asleep in the shade by a\ncool fountain, just as he would do in Southern Italy to-day, for his\nrest after the midday meal. Suddenly a snake, the horrors of which are\ndescribed with a vividness that is truly Virgilian, appears upon the\nscene and prepares to strike the shepherd. A passing gnat, the hero of\nthe poem, sees the danger, and wakes the shepherd by stinging him in the\neye. He springs up angrily, brushes it off with his hand, and dashes it\nlifeless to the ground. Then, to his horror, he sees the snake, and\npromptly kills it with the branch of a tree.\n\nWhile he lies asleep that night, the ghost of the gnat appears to him in\na dream, and bitterly reproaches him for the cruel death with which it\nhas been rewarded for its heroic services. Charon has now claimed it for\nhis own. It goes on to give a lurid description of the horrors of\nTartarus, and contrasts its hard lot with that of the shepherd. When he\nwakes, the shepherd is filled with remorse for his conduct and is also,\nperhaps, afraid of being continually haunted by the ghost of his tiny\nbenefactor. He therefore sets to work to raise a mound in honour of the\ngnat, facing it with marble. Round it he plants all kinds of flowers,\nespecially violets and roses, the flowers usually offered to the dead,\nand cuts on a marble slab the following inscription: \"Little gnat, the\nshepherd dedicates to thee thy meed of a tomb in return for the life\nthou gavest him.\"[77]\n\nThere is also an interesting story of Pindar, told by Pausanias.[78] In\nhis old age the great poet dreamt that Persephone appeared to him and\ntold him that she alone of all the goddesses had not been celebrated in\nsong by him, but that he should pay the debt when he came to her.\nShortly after this he died. There was, however, a relation of his, a\nwoman then far advanced in years, who had practised the singing of most\nof his hymns. To her Pindar appeared in a dream and sang the hymn to\nProserpine, which she wrote down from memory when she awoke.\n\nI have included one or two stories of apparitions in dreams among those\nin the next section, as they seemed to be more in place there.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 74: Malae tractationis.]\n\n[Footnote 75: _Met._, viii. 4.]\n\n[Footnote 76: Plutarch, _Cimon_, Chap. VI.]\n\n[Footnote 77:   \"Parve culex, pecudum custos tibi tale merenti\n                 Funeris officium vitae pro munere reddit.\"]\n\n[Footnote 78: 9. 21. 3.]\n\n\n\n\nVI\n\nAPPARITIONS OF THE DEAD\n\n\nAmong the tall stories in Lucian's _Philopseudus_[79] is an amusing\naccount of a man whose wife, whom he loved dearly, appeared to him after\nshe had been dead for twenty days. He had given her a splendid funeral,\nand had burnt everything she possessed with her. One day, as he was\nsitting quietly reading the Phaedo, she suddenly appeared to him, to the\nterror of his son. As soon as he saw her he embraced her tearfully, a\nfact which seems to show that she was of a more substantial build than\nthe large majority of ghosts of the ancient world; but she strictly\nforbade him to make any sound whatever. She then explained that she had\ncome to upbraid the unfortunate man for having neglected to burn one of\nher golden slippers with her at the funeral. It had fallen behind the\nchest, she explained, and had been forgotten and not placed upon the\npyre with the other. While they were talking, a confounded little\nMaltese puppy suddenly began to bark from under the bed, when she\nvanished. But the slipper was found exactly where she had described, and\nwas duly burnt on the following day. The story is refreshingly human.\n\nThis question of dress seems to have been a not infrequent source of\nanxiety to deceased ladies in the ancient world. Periander,[80] the\ntyrant of Corinth, on one occasion wished to consult his wife's spirit\nupon a very important matter; but she replied, as she had doubtless\noften done when alive, that she would not answer his questions till she\nhad some decent clothes to wear. Periander waited for a great festival,\nwhen he knew that all the women of Corinth would be assembled in their\nbest, and then gave orders that they should one and all strip\nthemselves. He burnt the clothes on a huge pyre in his wife's honour;\nand one can imagine his satisfaction at feeling that he had at last\nsettled the question for ever. He applied to his wife once more with a\nclear conscience, when she gave him an unmistakable sign that she was\nspeaking the truth, and answered his questions as he desired.\n\nThat small household matters may weigh heavily upon a woman's\nconscience, even nowadays, is shown by the following interesting story,\nwhich may well be compared with the foregoing.[81] In July, 1838, a\nCatholic priest, who had gone to Perth to take charge of a mission, was\ncalled upon by a Presbyterian woman. For many weeks past, she explained,\nshe had been anxious to see a priest. A woman, lately dead, whom she\nknew very slightly, had appeared to her during the night for several\nnights, urging her to go to a priest and ask him to pay three shillings\nand tenpence to a person not specified.\n\nThe priest made inquiries, and learnt that the deceased had acted as\nwasherwoman and followed the regiment. At last, after careful search, he\nfound a grocer with whom she had dealt, and, on being asked whether a\nfemale of the name owed him anything, the grocer turned up his books and\ninformed him that she owed him three shillings and tenpence. He paid the\nsum. Subsequently the Presbyterian woman came to him, saying that she\nwas no more troubled.\n\nThe spirits of the worst of the Roman Emperors were, as we should\nexpect, especially restless. Pliny[82] tells us how Fannius, who was\nengaged upon a Life of Nero, was warned by him of his approaching death.\nHe was lying on his couch at dead of night with a writing-desk in front\nof him, when Nero came and sat down by his side, took up the first book\nhe had written on his evil deeds, and read it through to the end; and so\non with the second and the third. Then he vanished. Fannius was\nterrified, for he thought the vision implied that he would never get\nbeyond the third book of his work, and this actually proved to be the\ncase.\n\nNero, in fact, had a romantic charm about him, in spite of, or perhaps\nbecause of, the wild recklessness of his life; and he possessed the\nredeeming feature of artistic taste. Like Francis I. of France, or our\nown Charles II., he was irresistible with the ladies, and must have been\nthe darling of all the housemaids of Rome. People long refused to\nbelieve in his death, and for many years it was confidently affirmed\nthat he would appear again. His ghost was long believed to walk in Rome,\nand the church of Santa Maria del Popolo is said to have been built as\nlate as 1099 by Pope Paschalis II. on the site of the tombs of the\nDomitii, where Nero was buried, near the modern Porta del Popolo, where\nthe Via Flaminia entered the city, in order to lay his restless shade.\n\nCaligula also appeared shortly after his death, and frequently disturbed\nthe keepers of the Lamian Gardens, for his body had been hastily buried\nthere without due ceremony. Not till his sisters, who really loved him,\nin spite of his many faults, had returned from exile were the funeral\nrites properly performed, after which his ghost gave no more\ntrouble.[83]\n\nOn the night of the day of Galba's murder, the Emperor Otho was heard\ngroaning in his room by his attendants. They rushed in, and found him\nlying in front of his bed, endeavouring to propitiate Galba's ghost, by\nwhom he declared that he saw himself being driven out and expelled.[84]\nOtho was a strange mixture of superstition and scepticism, for when he\nstarted on his last fatal expedition he treated the unfavourable omens\nwith contempt. By this time, however, he may have become desperate.\n\nMoreover, irreligious people are notoriously superstitious, and at this\nperiod it would be very difficult to say just where religion ended and\nsuperstition began.\n\nWe have one or two ghost stories connected with early Greek mythology.\nCillas, the charioteer of Pelops, though Troezenius gives his name as\nSphaerus, died on the way to Pisa, and appeared to Pelops by night,\nbegging that he might be duly buried. Pelops took pity on him and\nburnt[85] his body with all ceremony, raised a huge mound in his honour,\nand built a chapel to the Cillean Apollo near it. He also named a town\nafter him. Strabo even says that there was a mound in Cillas' honour at\nCrisa in the Troad. This dutiful attention did not go unrewarded. Cillas\nappeared to Pelops again, and thanked him for all he had done, and to\nCillas also he is said to have owed the information by which he was able\nto overthrow OEnomaus in the famous chariot race which won him the\nhand of Hippodamia. Pelops' shameless ingratitude to OEnomaus's\ncharioteer, Myrtilus, who had removed the pin of his master's chariot,\nand thus caused his defeat and death in order to help Pelops, on the\npromise of the half of the kingdom, is hardly in accordance with his\ntreatment of Cillas, though it is thoroughly Greek. However, on the\ntheory that a man who betrays one master will probably betray another,\nespecially if he is to be rewarded for his treachery with as much as\nhalf a kingdom, Pelops was right in considering that Myrtilus was best\nout of the way; and he can hardly have foreseen the curse that was to\nfall upon his family in consequence.\n\nWith this story we may compare the well-known tale of the poet\nSimonides, who found an unknown corpse on the shore, and honoured it\nwith burial.[86] Soon afterwards he happened to be on the point of\nstarting on a voyage, when the man whom he had buried appeared to him in\na dream, and warned him on no account to go by the ship he had chosen,\nas it would undoubtedly be wrecked. Impressed by the vision, the poet\nremained behind, and the ship went down soon afterwards, with all on\nboard. Simonides expressed his gratitude in a poem describing the event,\nand in several epigrams. Libanius even goes so far as to place the scene\nof the event at Tarentum, where he was preparing to take ship for\nSicily.\n\nThe tale is probably mythical. It belongs to a group of stories of the\ngrateful dead, which have been the subject of an interesting book\nrecently published by the Folk-Lore Society.[87] Mr. Gerould doubts\nwhether it really belongs to the cycle, as it is nearly two centuries\nearlier, even in Cicero's version, than any other yet discovered; but it\ncertainly inspired Chaucer in his Nun's Priest's Tale, and it may well\nhave influenced other later versions. The Jewish version is closer to\nthe Simonides story than any of the others, and I will quote it in Mr.\nGerould's words.[88]\n\n\"The son of a rich merchant of Jerusalem sets off after his father's\ndeath to see the world. At Stamboul he finds hanging in chains the body\nof a Jew, which the Sultan has commanded to be left there till his\nco-religionists shall have repaid the sum that the man is suspected of\nhaving stolen from his royal master. The hero pays this sum, and has the\ncorpse buried. Later, during a storm at sea he is saved by a stone, on\nwhich he is brought to land, whence he is carried by an eagle back to\nJerusalem. There a white-clad man appears to him, explaining that he is\nthe ghost of the dead, and that he has already appeared as stone and\neagle. The spirit further promises the hero a reward for his good deed\nin the present and in the future life.\"\n\nThis is one of the simplest forms in which the story appears. It is\ngenerally found compounded with some other similar tale; but the main\nfacts are that a man buries a corpse found on the sea-shore from\nphilanthropic motives. \"Later he is met by the ghost of the dead man,\nwho in many cases promises him help on condition of receiving, in\nreturn, half of whatever he gets. The hero obtains a wife (or some other\nreward), and, when called upon, is ready to fulfil his bargain as to\nsharing his possessions,\"[89] not excepting the wife. Some of the\ncharacteristics of the tale are to be found in the story of Pelops and\nCillas, related above, which Mr. Gerould does not mention.\n\nPausanias[90] has a story of one of Ulysses' crew. Ulysses' ship was\ndriven about by the winds from one city to another in Sicily and Italy,\nand in the course of these wanderings it touched at Tecmessa. Here one\nof the sailors got drunk and ravished a maiden, and was stoned to death\nin consequence by the indignant people of the town. Ulysses did not\ntrouble about what had occurred, and sailed away. Soon, however, the\nghost of the murdered man became a source of serious annoyance to the\npeople of the place, killing the inhabitants of the town, regardless of\nage and sex. Finally, matters came to such a pass that the town was\nabandoned. But the Pythian priestess bade the people return to Tecmessa\nand appease the hero by building him a temple and precinct of his own,\nand giving him every year the fairest maiden of the town to wife. They\ntook this advice, and there was no more trouble from the ghost. It\nchanced, however, that Euthymus came to Tecmessa just when the people\nwere paying the dead sailor the annual honours. Learning how matters\nstood, he asked to be allowed to go into the temple and see the maiden.\nAt their meeting he was first touched with pity, and then immediately\nfell desperately in love with her. The girl swore to be his, if he would\nsave her. Euthymus put on his armour and awaited the attack of the\nmonster. He had the best of the fight, and the ghost, driven from its\nhome, plunged into the sea. The wedding was, of course, celebrated with\ngreat splendour, and nothing more was heard of the spirit of the drunken\nsailor. The story is obviously to be classed with that of Ariadne.\n\nThe god-fearing AElian seeks to show that Providence watches over a good\nman and brings his murderers to justice by a story taken from\nChrysippus.[91] A traveller put up at an inn in Megara, wearing a belt\nfull of gold. The innkeeper discovered that he had the money about him,\nand murdered him at night, having arranged to carry his body outside the\ngates in a dung-cart. But meanwhile the murdered man appeared to a\ncitizen of the town and told him what had happened. The man was\nimpressed by the vision. Investigations were made, and the murderer was\ncaught exactly where the ghost had indicated, and was duly punished.\n\nThis is one of the very few stories in which the apparition is seen at\nor near the moment of death, as is the case in the vast majority of the\nwell-authenticated cases collected during recent years.\n\nAristeas of Proconesus, a man of high birth, died quite suddenly in a\nfulling establishment in his native town.[92] The owner locked the\nbuilding and went to inform his relatives, when a man from Cyzicus,\nhearing the news, denied it, saying that Aristeas had met him on the way\nthither and talked to him; and when the relatives came, prepared to\nremove the body, they found no Aristeas, either alive or dead.\nAltogether, he seems to have been a remarkable person. He disappeared\nfor seven years, and then appeared in Proconesus and wrote an epic poem\ncalled _Arimispea_, which was well known in Herodotus's day. Two hundred\nand forty years later he was seen again, this time at Metapontum, and\nbade the citizens build a shrine to Apollo, and near it erect a statue\nto himself, as Apollo would come to them alone of the Italian Greeks,\nand he would be seen following in the form of a raven. The townsmen were\ntroubled at the apparition, and consulted the Delphic oracle, which\nconfirmed all that Aristeas had said; and Apollo received his temple and\nAristeas his statue in the market-place.\n\nApollonius[93] tells virtually the same story, except that in his\nversion Aristeas was seen giving a lesson in literature by a number of\npersons in Sicily at the very hour he died in Proconesus. He says that\nAristeas appeared at intervals for a number of years after his death.\nThe elder Pliny[94] also speaks of Aristeas, saying that at Proconesus\nhis soul was seen to leave his body in the form of a raven, though he\nregards the tale as in all probability a fabrication.\n\nThe doctor in Lucian's _Philopseudus_ (_c._ 26) declares that he knew a\nman who rose from the dead twenty days after he was buried, and that he\nattended him after his resurrection. But when asked how it was the body\ndid not decompose or the man die of hunger, he has no answer to give.\n\nDio Cassius[95] describes how, when Nero wished to cut a canal through\nthe Isthmus of Corinth, blood spurted up in front of those who first\ntouched the earth, groans and cries were heard, and a number of ghosts\nappeared. Not till Nero took a pickaxe and began to work himself, to\nencourage the men, was any real progress made.\n\nPliny[96] quotes an interesting account, from Hermotimus of Clazomenae,\nof a man whose soul was in the habit of leaving his body and wandering\nabroad, as was proved by the fact that he would often describe events\nwhich had happened at a distance, and could only be known to an actual\neyewitness. His body meanwhile lay like that of a man in a trance or\nhalf dead. One day, however, some enemies of his took the body while in\nthis state and burnt it, thus, to use Pliny's phrase, leaving the soul\nno sheath[97] to which it could return.\n\nNo one can help being struck by the bald and meagre character of these\nstories as a whole. They possess few of the qualities we expect to find\nin a good modern ghost story. None of them can equal in pathetic beauty\nmany of those to be found in Myers's _Human Personality_. Take, for\nexample, the story of the lady[98] who was waked in the night by the\nsound of moaning and sobbing, as of someone in great distress of mind.\nFinding nothing in her room, she went and looked out of the landing\nwindow, \"and there, on the grass, was a very beautiful young girl in a\nkneeling posture before a soldier, in a General's uniform, clasping her\nhands together and entreating for pardon; but, alas! he only waived her\naway from him.\"\n\nThe story proved to be true. The youngest daughter of the old and\ndistinguished family to which the house had belonged had had an\nillegitimate child. Her parents and relations refused to have anything\nmore to do with her, and she died broken-hearted. The lady who relates\nthe story saw the features so clearly on this occasion that she\nafterwards recognized the soldier's portrait some six months later, when\ncalling at a friend's house, and exclaimed: \"Why, look! There is the\nGeneral!\" as soon as she noticed it.\n\nOne really beautiful ghost story has, however, come down to us.[99]\nPhlegon of Tralles was a freedman of the Emperor Hadrian. His work is\nnot of great merit. The following is a favourable specimen of his\nstories. A monstrous child was born in AEtolia, after the death of its\nfather, Polycrates. At a public meeting, where it was proposed to do\naway with it, the father suddenly appeared, and begged that the child\nmight be given him. An attempt was made to seize the father, but he\nsnatched up the child, tore it to pieces, and devoured all but the head.\nWhen it was proposed to consult the Delphic oracle on the matter, the\nhead prophesied to the crowd from where it lay on the ground.\n\nThen comes the following story. The early part is missing, but Erwin\nRohde, in an interesting article,[100] has cleared up all the essential\ndetails. Proclus's treatises on Plato's Republic are complete only in\nthe Vatican manuscripts. Of these Mai only published fragments,[101] but\nan English theologian, Alexander Morus, took notes from the manuscript\nwhen it was in Florence, and quoted from it in a commentary on the\nEpistle to the Hebrews.[102] One of the treatises is called [Greek: pos\ndei noein eisienai kai exienai psuchen apo somatos]. The ending in\nPhlegon[103] proves that the story was given in the form of a letter,\nand we learn that the scene was laid at Amphipolis, on the Strymon, and\nthat the account was sent by Hipparchus in a letter to Arrhidaeus,\nhalf-brother of Alexander the Great, the events occurring during the\nreign of Philip II. of Macedon. Proclus says that his information is\nderived from letters, \"some written by Hipparchus, others by Arrhidaeus.\"\n\nPhilinnion was the daughter of Demostratus and Charito. She had been\nmarried to Craterus, Alexander's famous General, but had died six months\nafter her marriage. As we learn that she was desperately in love with\nMachates, a foreign friend from Pella who had come to see Demostratus,\nthe misery of her position may possibly have caused her death. But her\nlove conquered death itself, and she returned to life again six months\nafter she had died, and lived with Machates, visiting him for several\nnights. \"One day an old nurse went to the guest-chamber, and as the\nlamp was burning, she saw a woman sitting by Machates. Scarcely able to\ncontain herself at this extraordinary occurrence, she ran to the girl's\nmother, calling: 'Charito! Demostratus!' and bade them get up and go\nwith her to their daughter, for by the grace of the gods she had\nappeared alive, and was with the stranger in the guest-chamber.\n\n\"On hearing this extraordinary story, Charito was at first overcome by\nit and by the nurse's excitement; but she soon recovered herself, and\nburst into tears at the mention of her daughter, telling the old woman\nshe was out of her senses, and ordering her out of the room. The nurse\nwas indignant at this treatment, and boldly declared that she was not\nout of her senses, but that Charito was unwilling to see her daughter\nbecause she was afraid. At last Charito consented to go to the door of\nthe guest-chamber, but as it was now quite two hours since she had heard\nthe news, she arrived too late, and found them both asleep. The mother\nbent over the woman's figure, and thought she recognized her daughter's\nfeatures and clothes. Not feeling sure, as it was dark, she decided to\nkeep quiet for the present, meaning to get up early and catch the woman.\nIf she failed, she would ask Machates for a full explanation, as he\nwould never tell her a lie in a case so important. So she left the room\nwithout saying anything.\n\n\"But early on the following morning, either because the gods so willed\nit or because she was moved by some divine impulse, the woman went away\nwithout being observed. When she came to him, Charito was angry with the\nyoung man in consequence, and clung to his knees, and conjured him to\nspeak the truth and hide nothing from her. At first he was greatly\ndistressed, and could hardly be brought to admit that the girl's name\nwas Philinnion. Then he described her first coming and the violence of\nher passion, and told how she had said that she was there without her\nparents' knowledge. The better to establish the truth of his story, he\nopened a coffer and took out the things she had left behind her--a ring\nof gold which she had given him, and a belt which she had left on the\nprevious night. When Charito beheld all these convincing proofs, she\nuttered a piercing cry, and rent her clothes and her cloak, and tore her\ncoif from her head, and began to mourn for her daughter afresh in the\nmidst of her friends. Machates was deeply distressed on seeing what had\nhappened, and how they were all mourning, as if for her second funeral.\nHe begged them to be comforted, and promised them that they should see\nher if she appeared. Charito yielded, but bade him be careful how he\nfulfilled his promise.\n\n\"When night fell and the hour drew near at which Philinnion usually\nappeared, they were on the watch for her. She came, as was her custom,\nand sat down upon the bed. Machates made no pretence, for he was\ngenuinely anxious to sift the matter to the bottom, and secretly sent\nsome slaves to call her parents. He himself could hardly believe that\nthe woman who came to him so regularly at the same hour was really dead,\nand when she ate and drank with him, he began to suspect what had been\nsuggested to him--namely, that some grave-robbers had violated the tomb\nand sold the clothes and the gold ornaments to her father.\n\n\"Demostratus and Charito hastened to come at once, and when they saw\nher, they were at first speechless with amazement. Then, with cries of\njoy, they threw themselves upon their daughter. But Philinnion remained\ncold. 'Father and mother,' she said, 'cruel indeed have ye been in that\nye grudged my living with the stranger for three days in my father's\nhouse, for it brought harm to no one. But ye shall pay for your meddling\nwith sorrow. I must return to the place appointed for me, though I came\nnot hither without the will of Heaven.' With these words she fell down\ndead, and her body lay stretched upon the bed. Her parents threw\nthemselves upon her, and the house was filled with confusion and sorrow,\nfor the blow was heavy indeed; but the event was strange, and soon\nbecame known throughout the town, and finally reached my ears.\n\n\"During the night I kept back the crowds that gathered round the house,\ntaking care that there should be no disturbance as the news spread. At\nearly dawn the theatre was full. After a long discussion it was decided\nthat we should go and open the tomb, to see whether the body was still\non the bier, or whether we should find the place empty, for the woman\nhad hardly been dead six months. When we opened the vault where all her\nfamily was buried, the bodies were seen lying on the other biers; but on\nthe one where Philinnion had been placed, we found only the iron ring\nwhich had belonged to her lover and the gilt drinking-cup Machates had\ngiven her on the first day. In utter amazement, we went straight to\nDemostratus's house to see whether the body was still there. We beheld\nit lying on the ground, and then went in a large crowd to the place of\nassembly, for the whole event was of great importance and absolutely\npast belief. Great was the confusion, and no one could tell what to do,\nwhen Hyllus, who is not only considered the best diviner among us, but\nis also a great authority on the interpretation of the flight of birds,\nand is generally well versed in his art, got up and said that the woman\nmust be buried outside the boundaries of the city, for it was unlawful\nthat she should be laid to rest within them; and that Hermes Chthonius\nand the Eumenides should be propitiated, and that all pollution would\nthus be removed. He ordered the temples to be re-consecrated and the\nusual rites to be performed in honour of the gods below. As for the\nKing, in this affair, he privately told me to sacrifice to Hermes, and\nto Zeus Xenius, and to Ares, and to perform these duties with the utmost\ncare. We have done as he suggested.\n\n\"The stranger Machates, who was visited by the ghost, has committed\nsuicide in despair.\n\n\"Now, if you think it right that I should give the King an account of\nall this, let me know, and I will send some of those who gave me the\nvarious details.\"\n\nThe story is particularly interesting, as the source of Goethe's _Braut\nvon Korinth_. In Goethe's poem the girl is a Christian, while her lover\nis a pagan. Their parents are friends, and they have been betrothed in\ntheir youth. He comes to stay with her parents, knowing nothing of her\ndeath, when she appears to him. As in the Greek story, her body is\nmaterial, though cold and bloodless, and he thinks her still alive. He\ntakes her in his arms and kisses her back to life and love, breathing\nhis own passion into her. Then the mother surprises them, and the\ndaughter upbraids her for her cruelty, but begs that she and her lover\nmay be buried together, as he must pay for the life he has given her\nwith his own.\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 79: _Philops._, 27.]\n\n[Footnote 80: Herod., v. 92.]\n\n[Footnote 81: _Human Personality_, ii. 348.]\n\n[Footnote 82: _Ep._, v. 5.]\n\n[Footnote 83: Suet., _Gaius_, 59.]\n\n[Footnote 84: Suet., _Otho_, 7.]\n\n[Footnote 85: If that is the meaning of [Greek: exerruparou] in the\nHomeric Scholia of Theopompus.]\n\n[Footnote 86: Cic., _De Div._, i. 27, 56. Cp. Val. Max., i. 7; Libanius,\niv. 1101.]\n\n[Footnote 87: _The Grateful Dead_, by G.H. Gerould.]\n\n[Footnote 88: _The Grateful Dead_, p. 27.]\n\n[Footnote 89: _Ibid._, p. 10.]\n\n[Footnote 90: 6. 6. 7.]\n\n[Footnote 91: AElian, _Fragm._, 82.]\n\n[Footnote 92: Herod., iv. 14, 15.]\n\n[Footnote 93: _Hist. Mir._, 11.]\n\n[Footnote 94: _N.H._, 7. 52. 174.]\n\n[Footnote 95: 67. 16.]\n\n[Footnote 96: _N.H._, 7. 52. 174.]\n\n[Footnote 97: Vagina.]\n\n[Footnote 98: _Human Personality_, ii. 383.]\n\n[Footnote 99: Phlegon of Tralles, _De Rebus Mirabilibus_, _ad fin._]\n\n[Footnote 100: _Rhein. Mus._, vol. xxxii., p. 329.]\n\n[Footnote 101: Mai, _Script. Vet. Nov. Coll._, ii. 671.]\n\n[Footnote 102: London, 1616.]\n\n[Footnote 103: [Greek: errho]]\n\n\n\n\nVII\n\nWARNING APPARITIONS\n\n\nAs we should expect, there are a number of instances of warning\napparitions in antiquity; and it is interesting to note that the\nmajority of these are gigantic women endowed with a gift of prophecy.\n\nThus the younger Pliny[104] tells us how Quintus Curtius Rufus, who was\non the staff of the Governor of Africa, was walking one day in a\ncolonnade after sunset, when a gigantic woman appeared before him. She\nannounced that she was Africa, and was able to predict the future, and\ntold him that he would go to Rome, hold office there, return to the\nprovince with the highest authority, and there die. Her prophecy was\nfulfilled to the letter, and as he landed in Africa for the last time\nthe same figure is reported to have met him.\n\nSo, again, at the time of the conspiracy of Callippus, Dion was\nmeditating one evening before the porch of his house, when he turned\nround and saw a gigantic female figure, in the form of a Fury, at the\nend of the corridor, sweeping the floor with a broom. The vision\nterrified him, and soon afterwards his only son committed suicide and he\nhimself was murdered by the conspirators.[105]\n\nA similar dramatic story is related of Drusus during his German\ncampaigns.[106] While engaged in operations against the Alemanni, he was\npreparing to cross the Elbe, when a gigantic woman barred the way,\nexclaiming, \"Insatiate Drusus, whither wilt thou go? Thou art not fated\nto see all things. Depart hence, for the end of thy life and of thy\ndeeds is at hand.\" Drusus was much troubled by this warning, and\ninstantly obeyed the words of the apparition; but he died before\nreaching the Rhine.\n\nWe meet with the same phenomenon again in Dio Cassius, among the\nprodigies preceding the death of Macrinus, when \"a dreadful gigantic\nwoman, seen of several, declared that all that had happened was as\nnothing compared with what they were soon to endure\"--a prophecy which\nwas amply fulfilled by the reign of Heliogabalus.\n\nBut the most gigantic of all these gigantic women was, as we should only\nexpect from his marvellous power of seeing ghosts, the one who appeared\nto Eucrates in the _Philopseudus_.[107] Eucrates has seen over a\nthousand ghosts in his time, and is now quite used to them, though at\nfirst he found them rather upsetting; but he had been given a ring and a\ncharm by an Arab, which enabled him to deal with anything supernatural\nthat came in his way. The ring was made from the iron of a cross on\nwhich a criminal had been executed, and doubtless had the same value in\nEucrates' eyes that a piece of the rope with which a man has been hung\npossesses in the eyes of a gambler to-day. On this particular occasion\nhe had left his men at work in the vineyard, and was resting quietly at\nmidday, when his dog began to bark. At first he thought it was only a\nfavourite boy of his indulging in a little hunting with some friends;\nbut on looking up he saw in front of him a woman at least three hundred\nfeet high, with a sword thirty feet long. Her lower extremities were\nlike those of a dragon, and snakes were coiling round her neck and\nshoulders. Eucrates was not in the least alarmed, but turned the seal of\nhis ring, when a vast chasm opened in the earth, into which she\ndisappeared. This seems rather to have astonished Eucrates; but he\nplucked up courage, caught hold of a tree that stood near the edge, and\nlooked over, when he saw all the lower world lying spread before him,\nincluding the mead of asphodel, where the shades of the blessed were\nreclining at ease with their friends and relations, arranged according\nto clans and tribes. Among these he recognized his own father, dressed\nin the clothes in which he was buried; and it must have been comforting\nto the son to have such good evidence that his parent was safely\ninstalled in the Elysian Fields. In a few moments the chasm closed.\n\nDio Cassius[108] relates how Trajan was saved in the great earthquake\nthat destroyed nearly the whole of Antioch by a phantom, which appeared\nto him suddenly, and warned him to leave his house by the window. A\nsimilar story is told of the poet Simonides, who was warned by a spectre\nthat his house was going to fall, and thus enabled to make his escape in\ntime.\n\nI will include here a couple of stories which, if they cannot exactly be\nclassed as stories of warning apparitions, are interesting in\nthemselves, and may at least be considered as ghost stories. Pliny the\nYounger[109] tells us how a slave of his, named Marcus, imagined that he\nsaw someone cutting his hair during the night. When he awoke, the vision\nproved to have been a true one, for his hair lay all round him. Soon\nafterwards the same thing happened again. His brother, who slept with\nhim, saw nothing; but Marcus declared that two people came in by the\nwindows, dressed in white, and, after cutting his hair, disappeared.\n\"Nothing astonishing happened,\" adds Pliny, \"except that I was not\nprosecuted, as I undoubtedly should have been, had Domitian lived; for\nthis happened during his principate. Perhaps the cutting of my slave's\nhair was a sign of my approaching doom, for accused people cut their\nhair,\" as a sign of mourning. One may be allowed to wonder whether,\nafter all, a fondness for practical joking is not even older than the\nage of the younger Pliny.\n\nThis story, like nearly every other that we have come across, has a\nparallel in the _Philopseudus_. Indeed, Lucian seems to have covered\nalmost the whole field of the marvellous, as understood at that time, in\nhis determination to turn it into ridicule in that amusing dialogue. In\nthis case we are told of a little statue of AEsculapius, which stood in\nthe house of the narrator of the story, and at the feet of which a\nnumber of pence had been placed as offerings, while other coins, some of\nthem silver, were fastened to the thighs with wax. There were also\nsilver plates which had been vowed or offered by those who had been\ncured of fever by the god. The offerings and tablets are just such as\nmight be found in a Catholic church in the South of Europe to-day; but\nthe coins, in our more practical modern world, would have found their\nway into the coffers of the church. One would like to know what was the\nultimate destination of these particular coins--whether they were to be\nsent as contributions to one of the temples of AEsculapius, which were\nthe centre of the medical world at this period, and had elaborate\nhospitals attached to them, about which we learn so much from Aristides.\n\nIn this case they were merely a source of temptation to an unfortunate\nLibyan groom, who stole them one night, intending to make his escape.\nBut he had not studied the habits of the statue, which, we are told,\nhabitually got down from its pedestal every night; and in this case such\nwas the power of the god that he kept the man wandering about all night,\nunable to leave the court, where he was found with the money in the\nmorning, and soundly flogged. The god, however, considered that he had\nbeen let off much too easily; and he was mysteriously flogged every\nnight, as the weals upon him showed, till he ultimately died of the\npunishment.\n\nAElian[110] has a charming story of Philemon, the comic poet. He was\nstill, apparently, in the full vigour of his powers when he had a vision\nof nine maidens leaving his house in the Piraeus and bidding him\nfarewell. When he awoke, he told his slave the story, and set to work to\nfinish a play with which he was then busy. After completing it to his\nsatisfaction, he wrapped himself in his cloak and lay down upon his bed.\nHis slave came in, and, thinking he was asleep, went to wake him, when\nhe found that he was dead. AElian challenges the unbelieving Epicureans\nto deny that the nine maidens were the nine Muses, leaving a house which\nwas so soon to be polluted by death.\n\nMany stories naturally gather round the great struggle for the final\nmastery of the Roman world which ended in the overthrow of the Republic.\nShakespeare has made us familiar with the fate of the poet Cinna, who\nwas actually mistaken for one of the conspirators against Caesar and\nmurdered by the crowd. He dreamt, on the night before he met his death,\nthat Caesar invited him to supper, and when he refused the invitation,\ntook him by the hand and forced him down into a deep, dark abyss, which\nhe entered with the utmost horror.\n\nBut there is a story connected with the crossing of the Rubicon by Caesar\nthat certainly deserves to be better known than it is.[111] It is only\nfitting that an event fraught with such momentous consequences should\nhave a supernatural setting of some kind; and Suetonius relates that\nwhile Caesar was still hesitating whether he should declare himself an\nenemy of his country by crossing the little river that bounded his\nprovince at the head of an army, a man of heroic size and beauty\nsuddenly appeared, playing upon a reed-pipe. Some of the troops, several\ntrumpeters among them, ran up to listen, when the man seized a trumpet,\nblew a loud blast upon it, and began to cross the Rubicon. Caesar at once\ndecided to advance, and the men followed him with redoubled enthusiasm\nafter what they had just seen.\n\nIt is to Plutarch that we owe the famous story of the apparition that\nvisited Brutus in his tent the night before the battle of Philippi, and\nagain during the battle. Shakespeare represents it to be Caesar's ghost,\nbut has otherwise strictly followed Plutarch. It would be absurd to give\nthe scene in any other words than Shakespeare's.[112]\n\n  BRUTUS. How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here?\n       I think it is the weakness of mine eyes\n       That shapes this monstrous apparition.\n       It comes upon me. Art thou any thing?\n       Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,\n       That mak'st my blood cold, and my hair to stare?\n       Speak to me what thou art!\n\n  GHOST. Thy evil spirit, Brutus.\n\n  BRUTUS.                          Why com'st thou?\n\n  GHOST. To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.\n\n  BRUTUS. Well; then I shall see thee again?\n\n  GHOST.                                  Ay, at Philippi.\n\n  BRUTUS. Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.\n       Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:\n       Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.\n\nBut it had already disappeared, only to meet Brutus again on the fatal\nday that followed.\n\n\nFOOTNOTES:\n\n[Footnote 104: _Ep._, vii. 27.]\n\n[Footnote 105: Plutarch, _Dion_, ii. 55.]\n\n[Footnote 106: Dio Cassius, 55. 1. Cp. Suet., _Claud._, i.]\n\n[Footnote 107: Lucian, _Philops._, 20.]\n\n[Footnote 108: 68. 25.]\n\n[Footnote 109: _Ep._, vii. 27. 12.]\n\n[Footnote 110: _Fragm._, 84.]\n\n[Footnote 111: Suet., _Julius_, 32.]\n\n[Footnote 112: _Julius Caesar_, iv. 3.]\n\n\nTHE END\n\n\nBilling and Sons, Ltd., Printers, Guildford","title":"Greek and Roman Ghost Stories","tradition":"myth-cosmogony","translated_text":null,"word_count":19889}