Part 2

If a person died at sea, all the people on board the ship assembled at sunset, and cried out three times the name of the departed, who was usually thrown overboard. In the morning they repeated these calls, and so forth until the ship entered port. This was done in order to recall the names of the deceased, or at any rate to keep them propitious.

When an illustrious person died in Greece, the ceremonies were on a most elaborate scale, and even accompanied by games, which lasted for many days. Readers of Homer's "Iliad" will remember his magnificent description of the death and funeral of Patroclus.

Among the Romans the men were not obliged to wear mourning, but it was the fashion for women to do so. Very wisely, children under three years of age were not forced to put on black, even for their parents, and after that age, only for as many months as they had lived years.

The Roman ladies only wore mourning for their parents for one year. Men were expected to wear it for the same period in the case of the death of a father, mother, wife, sister, or brother. Numa fixed the period of wearing deep mourning for the nearest of kin as ten months. People, however, were not obliged to wear mourning for any of their relatives who had been in prison, were bankrupt, or in any way outlawed. Numa published a minute series of laws regulating the mourning of his people. A very odd item in these included an order that women should not scratch their faces, or make an exceptional fuss at a public funeral. This was possibly decreed to put some stop to abuses which the hired mourners had occasioned: scratching their faces, for instance, so as to injure themselves, and making an over-dismal wail which was offensive to the genuine mourners.

For freedmen and slaves among the Romans, the greatest mark of respect was the erection of a monument or inscription in the tomb reserved for the family they had served. Thousands of these inscriptions to slaves and faithful servants still exist, and lead us to hope that the hardships of slavery in ancient Rome were often softened by mutual kindness and respect. One of the most touching of these is in a tomb on the Appian Road, which is supposed to have belonged to the attendants of Livia, the illustrious consort of Augustus. It runs:--

"To my beloved Julia, my slave-woman, whose last illness I have watched and attended as if it had been that of my own mother."

Tombs of slaves who were martyrs to the Christian religion are very frequent, and their inscriptions are usually of a most pathetic description.

The ashes of the dead, after the solemn burning of the body, were carefully gathered together and placed in an often very beautifully painted urn, and taken to the family tomb on the Appian Way, where an appropriate inscription was affixed to the wall under the niche containing the vase or urn. Little glass bottles, said to be filled with the tears of the nearest relations, were likewise enclosed in the urn, or else hung up beside it. Thousands of these, brilliant, after ages, with iridescent colours, are still found in the Roman tombs.

It was not imperative for a man in old Rome to wear mourning at all; but it was considered very bad taste for a male not to show some external sign of respect for his dead. With women, on the other hand, it was obligatory.

On great occasions, such as the death of an Emperor or a defeat of the army in foreign parts, the Senate, the Knights, and the whole Roman people assumed mourning; and the same ceremony was observed when any general of the Roman army was slain in battle. When Manlius was precipitated from the Tarpeian rock, half the people put on mourning. The defeat at Cannæ, the conspiracy of Catilina, and the death of Julius Cæsar were also events celebrated in Rome with public mourning; but during the whole period of the Republic it was not compulsory for people to notice death, either publicly or privately.

The first public mourning recorded as being observed throughout the entire Roman Empire was that for Augustus. It lasted for fifty days for the men, and the whole year for women. The next public event which called forth a decree commanding that the entire people of Rome and the Empire should wear mourning, was the death of Livia, mother of Tiberius. The same thing occurred at the death of Drusus; and Caligula followed the example, and ordered general mourning on the death of Drusilla.

Private mourning, which was among the Romans, as we have already intimated, not at all compulsory, could be broken by events such as the birth of a son or daughter, the marriage of a child, and the return of a prisoner of war. Men wore lighter mourning than women, but were expected to absent themselves from places of public amusement.

The usual colour adopted by women for mourning, under the Roman Empire, was a peculiar blue-black serge, and an absolutely black veil. As with us, occasionally, the wearing of mourning brought forth some sharp remarks from the satirical poets. Thus, Macrobius tells us, in his Saturnalia, that Croesus on one occasion went to the Senate wearing the deepest mourning for the largest lamprey in his tank, which had died.

Women were not allowed to remarry within the year of their husband's death. Imperial permission, however, might smooth this difficulty.

AMONG the early Christians the sincerest respect for the memory of their dead was paid; for most of them, in the first centuries of the Church, were either martyrs or near connections of such as had suffered for the faith. The Catacombs are covered with inscriptions recording the deaths of martyrs; and many of these memorials are exceedingly pathetic, testifying to the fortitude with which the first Christians endured any manner of torture rather than deny the new faith which had been imparted to them by Divine revelation. The remains of the martyrs, however mangled they might be, were gathered together with the greatest reverence, and their blood placed in little phials of glass, which were considered relics of a most precious nature. The Catacombs, which served the first Christians as churches as well as places of burial, are called after the most distinguished martyrs who were buried therein. In that of St. Calixtus, for instance--where that early and martyred Pope was interred--about two centuries ago was found the body of Saint Cecilia, "the sweet patroness of music." With such precaution had her remains been transported to their place of interment, that Bernini, the most eminent sculptor of the 17th Century, was able to take a cast of them, which he subsequently worked into a lovely statue, representing the saint in the graceful and modest attitude in which it is said her body was found after the lapse of a thousand years. This exquisite work of art is to be seen in the church which bears Saint Cecilia's name, in the Trastevere; and a fine replica of it is in the chapel of St. Cecilia, in the Oratory, Brompton.

The Catacombs are subterraneous chambers and passages usually formed in the rock, which is soft and easily excavated, and are to be found in almost every country in which such rocks exist. In most cases, probably, they originated in mere quarries, which afterwards came to be used either as places of sepulchre for the dead, or as hiding-places for the persecuted living. The most celebrated Catacombs in existence are those on the Via Appia, at a short distance from Rome. To these dreary crypts the early Christians were in the habit of retiring, in order to celebrate Divine worship in times of persecution, and in them were buried many of the saints, the early Popes, and martyrs. They consist of long narrow galleries, usually about eight feet high and five wide, which twist and turn in all directions. The graves were constructed by hollowing out a portion of the rock, at the side of the gallery, large enough to contain the body. The entrance was then built up with stones, on which usually the letters D. M. (Deo Maximo), or [CHR], the first two letters of the Greek name of Christ, were inscribed. Though latterly devoted to purposes of Christian interment exclusively, it is believed that the Catacombs were at one time used as burying-places for Pagans also, and there are one or two which were evidently entirely devoted to the Jews. At irregular intervals, these galleries expand into wide and lofty vaulted chambers, in which the service of the Church was no doubt celebrated, and which still have the appearance of chapels. The original extent of the Catacombs is uncertain, the guides maintaining that they have a length of twenty miles, whereas about six only can now be ascertained to exist, and of these, many portions have either fallen in or become dangerous. When Rome was besieged by the Lombards in the 8th Century, several of the Catacombs were destroyed, and the Popes afterwards caused the remains of many of the saints and martyrs to be removed and buried in the churches. The Catacombs at Naples, cut into the Capo di Monte, resemble those at Rome, and evidently were used for the same purposes, being partially covered with remarkable Christian symbols. At Palermo and Syracuse, there are similar Catacombs, and they are also to be found in Greece, Asia Minor, Syria, Persia, and Egypt. At Milo, one of the Cyclades, there is a hill which is honeycombed with a labyrinth of tombs running in every direction. In these, bassorilievi and figures in terra-cotta have been found, which prove them to be long anterior to the Christian era. In Peru and other parts of South America, ancient Catacombs still exist. The Catacombs of Paris are a species of charnel-house, into which the contents of such burying-places as were found to be pestilential, and the bodies of some of the victims of the Revolution, were cast by a decree of the Government. The skulls are arranged in curious forms, and a visit to these weird galleries is one of the sights of Paris, which few strangers, however, are privileged to study. The Capuchin monks have frequently attached to their monasteries, a cloister filled with earth brought from the Holy Land. In this the monks are buried for a time, until their bones are quite fleshless, when they are arranged in surprising groups in the long corridors of a series of galleries, and produce sometimes the reverse of a solemn effect.

AS the Church emerged from the Catacombs, and was enabled to take her position in the world, her funereal ceremonies became more elaborate and costly. Masses for the dead were offered up in the churches, to the accompaniment of music and singing; and the funereal ceremonies which attended the burial of the Empress Theodolinda, A.D. 595, the friend and correspondent of Pope St. Gregory the Great, lasted for over a week. The Cathedral of Monza, where she was buried, was hung with costly black stuff, and the body of the Empress was exhibited under a magnificent catafalque, surrounded with lights, and was visited by pilgrims from all parts of Lombardy. Many hundreds of masses were said for her in all the churches, and all day the great bells of the cathedral and of the various monastic establishments tolled dolefully. At the end of the week the body of the illustrious Empress was placed in the vault under the high altar, where it remains to this day; and above it was a shrine filled with extraordinary relics, many of which still subsist, as, for instance, her celebrated "Hen and Chickens"--a plateau or tray of silver gilt with some gold chickens with ruby eyes upon it--and the famous iron crown, which is, indeed, of gold, having one of the nails said to have been used at the Crucifixion beaten in a single band round the inside. Napoleon I. crowned himself, at Milan, King of Italy, with this singular relic.

Our Catholic ancestors spent large sums of money upon their funerals. The pious practice of praying for the dead, which they doubtless derived from the Hebrews, induced them to secure the future exertions of their friends, by building chanteries and special chapels in the churches, with a view of reminding the survivors of their demise. Guilds, which by the way, still exist, were created for the purpose of binding people together in a holy league of prayer for the souls of the faithful departed. We find in the laws established for the Guild of Abbotsbury, the following regulations:--"If any one belonging to the association chance to die, each member shall pay a penny for the good of the soul, before the body be laid in the grave. If he die in the neighbourhood, the steward (secretary) shall enquire when he is to be interred, and shall summon as many members as he can, to assemble and carry the corpse in as honourable a manner as possible to the grave or minster, and there pray devoutly for his soul's rest." With the same view, our ancestors were ever anxious to obtain a place of sepulchre in the most frequented churches. The monuments raised over their remains, whilst keeping them safe from profanation, recalled them to memory, and solicited on their behalf the charity of the faithful. The usual inscription on the earlier Christian tombs in this country was the pathetic "Of your charity, pray for me." In the Guild of All Souls, in London, when any member died, it was the custom of the survivors to give the poor a loaf for the good of the soul; and the writer can perfectly remember, that some thirty years since, in remote parts of Norfolk, when anybody died, it was the fashion to distribute loaves of bread in the church porch as a dole. The funeral of an Anglo-Saxon was thus conducted:--The body of the deceased was placed on a bier or in a hearse. On it lay the book of the gospels, the code of his or her belief, and the cross, the signal of hope. A pall of silk or linen was thrown over it till it reached the place of interment. The friends were summoned, and strangers deemed it a duty to join the funeral procession. The clergy walked before or on each side, bearing lighted tapers in their hands, and chanting a portion of the psalter. If it were in the evening, the night was passed in exercises of devotion. In the morning, mass was sung and the body deposited with solemnity in the grave, the sawlshot paid, and a liberal donation distributed to the poor. Before the Reformation, it was the excellent custom for all persons who met a funeral to uncover and stand reverentially still until it had passed. The pious turned back, and accompanied the mourners a part of the way to the grave. It is pleasant to notice that this essentially humane habit of taking off the hat and behaving gravely as a funeral goes by, which is universal upon the Continent, is at last becoming more and more general here. The homage of the living to the mortal remains of even the humblest is excellent, and one which should be earnestly encouraged, being far more beneficial in its results than the heaping of costly flowers upon a hearse, which no one notices as it passes, laden with its ephemeral offerings, to the cemetery.

The funeral of Edward the Confessor was exceedingly magnificent, and the shrine built over his relics, behind the high altar of the glorious abbey which he founded, is still an object of reverence with our Roman Catholic fellow-citizens, who, on St. Edward's Day, are permitted by a tolerant age to offer their devotions before the resting-place of the last of our Saxon Kings. But our first Norman King was buried with scant ceremony. He died 1087, at Hermentrude, a village near Rouen, having been taken suddenly ill on his way to England. No sooner was the illustrious king deceased, than his servants plundered the house and even the corpse, flinging it naked upon the floor. Herleadin, a peasant, undertook at last to convey the body to Caen, where it was to be buried in the Abbey of St. Stephen, Prince Henry and the monks being present. Scarcely, however, was the mass of requiem begun, when the church took fire, and everybody fled, leaving William the Conqueror's hearse neglected in the centre of the transept. At last the flames were extinguished, the interrupted service finished, and the funeral sermon preached. Just, however, as the coffin was about to be lowered into the vault, Anselm Fitz-Arthur, a Norman gentleman, stood forth and forbade the interment. "This spot," cried he, "is the site of my father's house, which this dead man burnt to ashes. On the ground it occupied I built this church, and William's body shall not desecrate it." After much ado, however, Fitz-Arthur was prevailed upon by Prince Henry to allow the body to be buried, on the payment of sixty shillings as the price of the grave. In the 17th Century the Calvinists ravaged the tomb and broke the monument. It was restored in 1642, but finally swept away, together with that of Queen Matilda, in the Revolution of 1793.

[Decoration]

PERHAPS the most curious funeral on record occurred just at the dawn of the Renaissance--that of the ill-fated Inez de Castro--"the Queen crowned after death"--who was murdered in the 14th Century by three assassins in her own apartment at Coimbra. "Being conveyed," says the Chronicle of Fray Jao das Reglas, "to the chapel of the neighbouring convent, her body was arrayed in spotless white and decked with roses. The nuns surrounded the bier, and the Queen-mother of Portugal, Brittes, sat in state--her crown upon her head and her royal robes flowing around her--as chief mourner, having given an order that the body should not be buried until after the return of her son Don Pedro. When he did come back, he was transported with grief and anger at the foul murder of his consort; and, throwing himself upon the corpse, clasped it to his heart, covered its pale lips, its hands, its feet with kisses, and, refusing all consolation, remained for thirty hours with the body clasped in his embrace! At last, being overcome with fatigue, the unhappy Prince was carried away senseless from the piteous remains of his most dear Inez, and they were consigned to the grave. It was his father who had instigated the murderers to commit their foul deed, and this determined Pedro to take up arms against him; and Portugal was desolated by civil war. Eventually the reasoning of the Queen (Brittes) prevailed, and peace was restored. Pedro, however, never spoke to his father again until the hour of his death, when he forgave the great wrong he had done him. He now ascended the throne, and his first act was to hunt down the three murderers, two of whom were put to death, with tortures too awful to describe, and the other escaped into France, where he died a beggar. After this retributive act, Don Pedro assembled the Cortes at Cantandes, and, in the presence of the Pope's Nuncio, solemnly swore that he had secretly married Inez de Castro at Braganza, in the presence of the bishop and of other witnesses." "Then occurred an event unique in history," continues this naive contemporary chronicle. "The body of Inez was lifted from the grave, placed on a magnificent throne, and crowned Queen of Portugal. The clergy, the nobility, and the people did homage to her corpse, and kissed the bones of her hands. There sat the dead Queen, with her yellow hair hanging like a veil round her ghastly form. One fleshless hand held the sceptre, and the other the orb of royalty. At night, after the coronation ceremony, a procession was formed of all the clergy and nobility, the religious orders and confraternities--which extended over many miles--each person holding a flaring torch in his hand, and thus walked from Coimbra to Alcobaça, escorting the crowned corpse to that royal abbey for interment. The dead Queen lay in her rich robes upon a chariot drawn by black mules and lighted up by hundreds of lights."

The scene must indeed have been a weird one. The sable costumes of the bishops and priests, the incense issuing from innumerable censers, the friars in their quaint garments, and the fantastically-attired members of the various hermandades, or brotherhoods--some of whom were dressed from head to foot entirely in scarlet, or blue, or black, or in white--with their countenances masked and their eyes glittering through small openings in their cowls; but above all, the spectre-like corpse of the Queen, on its car, and the grief-stricken King, who led the train--when seen by the flickering light of countless torches, with its solemn dirge music, passing through many a mile of open country in the midnight hours--was a vision so unreal that the chronicler describes it as "rather a phantasmagoria than a reality." In the magnificent abbey of Alcobaça the _requiem_ mass was sung, and the corpse finally laid to rest.

The monument still exists, with the statue, with its royal diadem and mantle, lying thereon. The tomb of Don Pedro is placed foot to foot with that of Inez, so--the legend runs--that at the Judgment Day they may rise together and stand face to face.

In 1810 the bodies of Don Pedro I. and Dona Inez de Castro were disturbed by the French, at the sack of Alcobaça. The skeleton of Inez was discovered to be in a singular state of preservation--the hair exceedingly long and glossy, and the head bound with a golden crown set with jewels of price. Singularly enough, this crown, although very valuable, was kicked about by the men as a toy and thrown behind the high altar, whence, as soon as the troops evacuated the monastery, it was carefully taken and laid aside by the Abbot. Shortly afterwards it again encircled the unhappy Queen's head, when, by order of the Duke of Wellington, the remains were once more replaced in the tomb, with military honours.