BOOK III.

CHAPTER IV.
MARRIAGE CEREMONIES.

When marriage was determined on, whether love or interest prompted to it, the business part of the transaction, which in all countries is exceedingly unromantic, was delegated, as in China, to a female matchmaker,[[1]] whose professional duties appear to have been considered important. She carried the lovers proposals to the family of his mistress, or rather, perhaps, broke the ice and paved the way for him. In the earlier ages men, no doubt, performed this delicate office themselves, or entrusted it to their parents; as in Homer we find Achilles declaring, that his father Peleus shall choose a wife for him. Earlier still, if we may credit certain prevalent traditions, men dispensed altogether with such preliminaries and lived “more pecudum” with the first females who came in their way; a state of barbarism from which it is said they were reclaimed by Cecrops.[[2]] But, to whomsoever this fable may trace its origin, it is evidently unworthy of the slightest credit. Of times sunk in such an abyss of ignorance no record could remain, or even of many succeeding revolutions of manners touching close upon the orbit of civilisation. If, however, the tradition arose originally out of any real innovation in manners, it may refer to the partial abolition of polygamy, which, whether made by Cecrops or not, was an important step in the progress of the Greeks towards polished life.

But if Cecrops ever lived, and should not be regarded as a mere mythological creation, we must still reject the comparatively modern tradition which fetches him from Egypt. Coming from the East, he would more probably have instituted polygamy than the contrary. In every point of view the tradition is absurd; for it at once represents the people of Attica as savages, and as having made considerable advances in the science of civil government. They have already emerged from the state of patriarchal rule, not by any means the lowest, and have arrived at the monarchical period in the history of society—for Cecrops marries the daughter of king Actæos—yet have not made the first step in refinement,[[3]] have not passed the barrier dividing the rudest savage from even the barbarian,—had not made the discovery that, for the preservation of society, children must be cared for and maintained, which is impossible until they have other fathers than the community. We must, therefore, reject this Cecropian legend, and acknowledge that, from the earliest times of which any record remains, the people of Hellas married and were given in marriage.

Whatever the original practice of the Greeks may have been, traces of polygamy long continued discernible in their manners. Heracles maintained a seraglio worthy of an Ottoman sultan. His wives, indeed, like those of a wandering Brahmin, were scattered at convenient points over the country, that, whithersoever he roamed, he might find lodging and entertainment; but, as rumours of his different establishments travelled about, the jealousy of the ladies was at last excited and proved fatal to him. Ægeus, too, and his brother Pallas, old Priam, Agamemnon, Theseus, and nearly every public man in the heroic times, are represented as possessing a harem. Indeed, to judge by the practice of princes, it would seem as if polygamy were the law of every land; so habitual is it with them to transgress, in this point, against public opinion. A report, still current among certain writers, represents Socrates with two wives, the gentle nature of Xantippe encouraging him, perhaps, to venture on a second! But even that diligent retailer of scandal, Athenæus,[[4]] rejects this story, which, no doubt, originated with some sophist, who owed the philosopher a grudge. If not in the son of Sophroniscos, however, at least in Philip of Macedon, the kings of heroic times found an exact imitator. This Pellæan fox, though he did not, like the Persian monarch, lead about with him an army of concubines in his military expeditions, yet, from policy or other motives, contracted numerous marriages, as many, perhaps, as Heracles. Satyros has bequeathed to us a curious account of his majesty’s matrimonial exploits. During his long reign, of from twenty to four-and-twenty years, the dishes of one nuptial feast had scarcely time to cool before a new one was in preparation. It was nothing but truffles and rich soup from June till June. I am unable to furnish a list of all the ladies who claimed, through Philip’s diffusive love, to be queens of Macedon; but it may be proper to name a few, to show how the morals of his subjects must have been improved by his example. The first lady whose landed attractions won Philip’s heart was Andatè, an Illyrian, by whom he had a daughter, called Cynna. To her succeeded Phila, sister of Derda and Macatè. His next wives were two Thessalian women, Pherè of Nikesipolis, mother of Thessalonia, and Philinna of Larissa, mother of Aridæos. Had he sought merely the women these might have sufficed; but Philip had other views, and, finding marriage a still more expeditious method of extending his dominions even than conquest, he forthwith added to the list Olympias, who brought him the kingdom of Molossia in dowry, and, as every one knows, was mother of Alexander. Had the crafty prince stopped here, posterity, overlooking his immorality, might have applauded his prudence. But, elated by success, he proceeded to augment the number of his queens. To Olympias succeeded Meda, daughter of Cithalas, king of Thrace; and, lastly, Cleopatra, sister of Hippostratos, and niece of Attalos. By this time he was somewhat advanced in years, for Alexander, son of Olympias, approached manhood. At the feast given in honour of this new marriage, when the wine had circulated, as was customary among Macedonians, Attalos, who had probably drunk deep, observed, “At length we shall have legitimate princes, not bastards!” Alexander, who was present, in resentment of the affront, threw his goblet in the face of Attalos, who saluted him in the same way. Upon this, perceiving how matters were likely to proceed, Olympias fled to Molossia, Alexander into Illyria. Philip lived to have by Cleopatra one daughter, Europa; but, shortly afterwards, at the instigation, it is supposed of Olympias and Alexander, was murdered by Pausanias.[[5]]

Ordinary individuals, however, were restrained from the commission of such immoralities by the laws, more particularly at Athens, where marriage was contemplated with all the reverence due to the great palladium of civilisation. As a necessary consequence, celibacy could be no other than disreputable, so that, to a man ambitious of public honour, the possession of a wife and children was no less indispensable than the means of living.[[6]] Among the Spartans, bachelors were delivered over to the tender mercies of the women, and subjected to very heavy penalties. During the celebration of certain festivals they were seized by a crowd of petulant viragoes, each able to strangle an ox,[[7]] and dragged in derision round the altars of the gods, receiving from the fists of their gentle tormentors such blows as the regular practice of boxing had taught the young ladies to inflict.[[8]]

“And ladies sometimes hit exceeding hard.”

But we shall be the less inclined to judge uncharitably of this somewhat unfeminine custom, if we consider that, in the ancient world, no less than in the modern, unmarried and childless women were held but in slight esteem. And this feeling, which never for a moment slumbers in society, teaches better than the cant of a thousand sentimentalists what the true origin of love is.

Of the impediments to marriage arising, among ancient nations, from relationship or consanguinity, very little is with certainty known. In the heroic ages, all unions excepting those of parents with their children appear to have been lawful; for, in the Odyssey, we find the six sons of Æolos joined in marriage with their six sisters, the manners of the olden times, abandoned on earth, still lingering among the gods.

Iphidamos has to wife his mother’s sister,[[9]] and Alcinoös, by no means a profligate or immoral prince, is united with his brother’s daughter;[[10]] Deiphobos, after Paris’s death, takes possession of Helen,[[11]] and Helenos, the seer, is united in wedlock with Andromache, the widow of his brother Hector.[[12]] But without alleging any further examples, we may, from the practice imputed to the gods, among whom scarcely any degree of relationship was a bar to marriage, infer that, in very early ages, few scruples were entertained upon the subject. Later mythologists have even imputed to Zeus an illicit amour with his daughter Aphrodite,[[13]] but libellously, and in contradiction to the best ancient authorities.[[14]] Nature, indeed, has so peremptorily prohibited the union of parents with their own children, that positive laws forbidding connexions so nefarious, have in all ages been nearly unnecessary, though the superstition of the Magi[[15]] in ancient, and the profligacy of popes and princes in modern times, have been accused of transgressing these natural boundaries.

Could we credit the sophist of Naucratis, there was likewise one distinguished person[[16]] among the Athenians who coveted the reputation of equal guilt.

The marriage of brothers with their own sisters was, in later ages, considered illegal; not so with respect to half sisters by the fathers’s side, whom no law forbade men to marry.[[17]] Still the recorded examples of those who availed themselves of this privilege are few; but among them we find the great Cimon, son of Miltiades, who, from affection, observes Cornelius Nepos, and in perfect conformity with the manners of his country, took to wife his sister Elpinice.[[18]] Plutarch, too, speaks of the union as public and legal, but Athenæus[[19]] characteristically insinuates that Elpinice was merely her brother’s mistress. The Spartan law took a different view of what constitutes sisterhood. Here the father was everything, and therefore with an uterine sister, as no near relation, marriage might be contracted.[[20]] All connexions in the direct line of ascent or descent were prohibited; but the prohibition extended not to the collateral branches,[[21]] uncles being permitted to take to wife their nieces, and nephews their aunts.

The precise age at which an Athenian citizen might legally take upon him the burden of a family, is said, without proof, though not altogether without probability, to have been determined by Solon; for such matters were in those ages supposed to come within the legitimate scope of legislation.[[22]] They attributed to the season of youth a much greater duration than comports with our notions. It was, in fact, thought to extend to the age of thirty-five or thirty-seven, more or less: when entering upon the less flowery domain of manhood, men would need the aid and consolation of a helpmate. But if there ever existed such a law it was often broken,[[23]] for early marriages, though less common perhaps than in modern times, are constantly alluded to both by historians and poets. Apprehensions of the too great increase of population already led philosophers, even in those early ages, vainly to apply themselves to the discovery of checks, which the irresistible impulses of nature always render nugatory; and viewing in that light the regulation attributed to Solon,[[24]] they, with some variation, adopt it in their political works. Plato,[[25]] in accordance with Hesiod’s notion, fixes for the male, the marriageable age at thirty; but Aristotle, who chose on most points to differ from his master, allows his citizens seven years more of liberty. For women the proper age, he thought, is about eighteen. His reasons are, that the husband and wife will thus flourish and decay together; and, their offspring inheriting the bloom and highest vigour of their parents, be at once[[26]] healthy in body and energetic in mind.

Winter, more particularly the month of January, thence called Gamelion, or the “Nuptial Month,” was regarded as the fittest season[[27]] of the year for the celebration of marriage; and if the north wind happened to blow, as at that time of the year it often does, the circumstance was supposed to be peculiarly auspicious. For this notion several physiological reasons are assigned; as that, during the prevalence of that wind, the human frame is peculiarly nervous and full of energy; that the spirits are consequently light, and the temper and disposition sweet, cheerful, and flexible. Lingering sparks of ancient superstition may also have had their share in establishing this persuasion: towards that quarter of the heavens, as towards an universal Kebleh, all the civilised nations of antiquity turned as the home of their gods; in that direction point all the openings of the Egyptian pyramids; thither to the present moment turn the Chinese and Brahmins when they pray, and in the holy tabernacle of the Jews the Table of Shewbread[[28]] likewise faced the north. Attention, too, was paid to the lunar influences; for, no other circumstance preventing it, it was usual to fix on the full of the moon, when the festival denominated Theogamia, or “Nuptials of the Gods” was celebrated, in order that religion itself, by its august and venerable ceremonies, might appear to sanctify the union of mortals effected under its auspices.

To this practice there are several allusions in ancient writers. Agamemnon, in Euripides, when questioned by his wife respecting the time of Iphigenia’s marriage, replies, that it shall take place

“When the blest moon its silvery circle fills.”[[29]]

And Themis, adjudging Thetis to Peleus, to terminate the contentions of the gods, selects the same season for the solemnization of the nuptial rites.

“But when next that solemn eve

Duly doth the moon divide,

For the chieftain let her leave

Her lovely virgin zone aside.”[[30]]

Most ancient nations, as the Hebrews, Indians, Thracians, Germans, and Gauls, regarded women as a marketable commodity; and, in this respect, the Greeks of early times perfectly agreed with them, buying and selling their females like cattle.[[31]] But, by degrees, as manners grew more polished, this barbarous custom was discontinued, though, in remembrance of it, presents were still made both to the father and the bride, even in the most civilised periods. We must, nevertheless, beware that we infer not too much from these gifts; for equally primitive and prevalent was the custom imposing upon fathers the necessity of dowrying their daughters.[[32]] In the case, too, of the husband’s death this matrimonial portion devolved to the children, so that if the widow chose,—as widows sometimes will,[[33]]—to embark a second time on the connubial sea, her father was called upon to furnish a fresh outfit. But, if the husband grew tired of his better half, and would insist on a divorce, or if, after his death, the sons were sufficiently unnatural to chase their mother from the paternal roof, the right over the entire dowry reverted to her.[[34]]

Parties were usually betrothed before marriage by their parents. And young women, whose parents no longer survived, were settled in marriage by their brothers, grandfathers, or guardians. Husbands on their deathbeds sometimes disposed of the hands of their wives, as in the case of Demosthenes’ father, who bequeathed Cleobula to Aphobos, whom he likewise appointed guardian of his children. In this instance, the widow had better have chosen for herself. Aphobos possessed himself of the dowry, and consented to fulfil the office of guardian, that he might plunder the children; but the marriage he declined. Another example occurs in the case of Phormio who, having been slave[[35]] to an opulent citizen, and conducted himself with zeal and fidelity, received at once his freedom and the widow of his master. In all serious matters the Athenians were a very methodical people, and conducted everything, even to the betrothing or marrying of a wife, with an attention to form worthy the quaintest citizen of our own great city.

Potter observes, with great naïveté, that, before men married, it was customary to provide themselves with a house to live in. The custom was a good one, and the thrifty old poet of Ascra, undertaking to enlighten his countrymen in economics, is explicit on the point—

“First build your house and let the wife succeed:”[[36]]

which, no doubt, is better advice than if he had said “first marry a wife and next consider where you shall put her.” And we find that, even among pastoral, young ladies who, in modern poets, make their meat and drink of love, and hang up a rag or two of it to preserve them from the elements, in antiquity posed their lovers with interrogations about comforts. “You are very pressing, my dear Daphnis, and swear you love me; but that is not just now the question. Have you a house and harem to take me to?”[[37]]

But prudent as they may be considered, the Athenians were still more pious than thrifty. Before the virgin quitted her childhood’s home, and passed from the state she had tried, and in most cases, perhaps, found happy, to enter into one altogether unknown to her, custom demanded the performance, on the day before the marriage, of several religious ceremonies eminently significant and beautiful. Hitherto, in the poetical recesses of their thalamoi, they had been reckoned as so many nymphs attached to the train of the virgin goddess of the woods. About to become members of a noviciate more conformable to nature than that of the Catholic church, they deemed it incumbent on them to implore their Divinity’s permission to transfer their worship from her to Hymen; and, the more readily to obtain it, they approached her, in the simplicity of their hearts, with baskets full of offerings such as it became them to present and her to receive.[[38]] Nor was Artemis the only deity sought, on this occasion, to be rendered auspicious by sacrifice and prayer. Offerings were likewise made to the Nymphs, those lovely creations with which the fancy of the Greeks peopled the streams and fountains of their native land.[[39]] These rites performed, the future bride was conducted in pomp to the citadel, where solemn sacrifice was offered up to Athena, the tutelar goddess of the state, with prayers for happiness, peculiarly the gift of supreme wisdom.[[40]] To Hera, also, and the Fates,[[41]] as to the goddesses that watched over the connubial state and rigidly punished those who transgressed its sacred laws, were gifts presented, and vows preferred; and on one or all of their several altars did the maiden deposit a lock of her own hair, in remoter ages, perhaps, the whole of it, to intimate that, having obtained a husband, she must preserve him by other means than beauty, and the arts of the toilette.[[42]] At Megara the young women devoted their severed locks to Iphinoë. Those of Delos to Hecaerga and Ops,[[43]] while, like the Athenians, the maidens of Argos performed this rite in honour of Athena.[[44]]

Having, by the performance of the above rites and others of similar significance, discharged their instant duties to the gods, and impressed on their own minds a deep sense of the sacred engagements they were about to contract, they proceeded to perform the nuptial ceremonies themselves, still intermingling the offices of religion with every portion of the transaction. An auspicious day having been fixed upon, the relations and friends of both parties assembled in magnificent apparel, at the house of the bride’s father, where all the ladies of the family were busily engaged in the recitation of prayers and presentation of offerings. These domestic ceremonies concluded, the bride, accompanied by her paranymph or bridesmaid, was led forth into the street by the bridegroom and one of his most intimate friends,[[45]] who placed her between them in an open carriage.[[46]] Their dresses, as was fitting, were of the richest and most splendid kind. Those of the bridegroom full, flowing, and of the gayest and brightest colours,[[47]] glittered with golden ornaments, and diffused around, as he moved, a cloud of perfume. The bride herself, gifted with that unerring taste which distinguished her nation, appeared in a costume at once simple and magnificent—simple in its contour, its masses, its folds, magnificent from the brilliance of its hues and the superb and costly style of its ornaments. She was not, like some modern court dame, a blaze of precious stones tastelessly heaped upon each other; but through the snowy gauze of her veil flashed the jewelled fillet and coronet-like sphendone which, with a chaplet of flowers,[[48]] adorned her dark tresses; and between the folds of her robe of gold-embroidered purple, appeared her gloveless fingers, with many rings glittering with gems. Strings of Red Sea pearls encircled her neck and arms; pendants, variously wrought and dropped with Indian jewels, twinkled in her ears; and her feet, partly concealed by the falling robe, displayed a portion of the golden thonged sandal, crusted with emeralds, rubies, or pearls. But all these ornaments often failed to distract the eye from those which she owed to nature. Her luxuriant hair, which in Eastern women often reaches the ground:

Her hair in hyacinthine flow,

When left to roll its folds below,

As ’midst her maidens in the ball

She stood superior to them all,

Hath swept the marble, where her feet

Gleamed whiter than the mountain sleet,

Ere from the cloud that gave it birth

It fell and caught one stain of earth;

her hair, I say, perfumed with delicate unguents,[[49]] such as nard from Tarsos, œranthe from Cypros, essence of roses from Cyrene, of lilies from Ægina or Cilicia, fell loosely in a profusion of ringlets over her shoulders, while in front it was confined by the fillet and grasshoppers of gold.[[50]] More perishable ornaments, in the shape of crowns of myrtle, wild thyme,[[51]] poppy, white sesame, with other flowers and plants sacred to Aphrodite, adorned the heads of both bride and bridegroom.[[52]]

The relations and friends followed, forming, in most cases, a long and stately procession, which, in the midst of crowds of spectators, moved slowly towards the temple, thousands strewing flowers or scattering perfume in their path, and in loud exclamations comparing the happy pair to the most impassioned and beautiful of their nymphs and gods.[[53]] Meanwhile, a number of the bride’s friends, scattered among the multitude, were looking out anxiously for favourable omens, and desirous, in conjunction with every person present, to avert all such as superstition taught them to consider inauspicious. A crow appearing singly was supposed to betoken sorrow or separation, whereas, a couple of crows,[[54]] issuing from the proper quarter of the heavens, presaged perfect union and happiness. A pair of turtle doves, of all omens, was esteemed the best.[[55]]

On reaching the temple, the bride and bridegroom were received at the door by a priest, who presented them with a small branch of ivy, as an emblem of the close ties by which they were about to be united for ever. They were then conducted to the altar,[[56]] where the ceremonies commenced with the sacrifice of a heifer,[[57]] after which Artemis, Athena, and other virgin goddesses, were solemnly invoked. Prayers were then addressed to Zeus and his consort, the supreme divinities of Olympos;[[58]] nor, on this occasion, would they overlook the ancient gods, Ouranos and Gaia, whose union produces fertility and abundance,[[59]]—the Graces, whose smile shed upon life its sweetest charm, and the Fates, who shorten or extend it at their pleasure, were next in order adored; and, lastly, Aphrodite, the mother of Love, and of all the host of Heaven, the most beautiful and beneficent to mortals.[[60]] The victim having been opened, the gall was taken out and significantly cast behind the altar.[[61]] Soothsayers skilled in divination then inspected the entrails, and if their appearance was alarming the nuptials were broken off, or deferred. When favourable, the rites proceeded as if hallowed by the smile of the gods. The bride now cut off one of her tresses, which, twisting round a spindle, she placed as an offering on the altar of Athena, while, in imitation of Theseus, the bridegroom made a similar oblation to Apollo, bound, as an emblem of his out-door life, round a handful of grass or herbs.[[62]] All the other gods, protectors of marriage, were then, by the parents or friends, invoked in succession, and the rites thus completed, the virgin’s father, placing the hand of the bridegroom in that of the bride, said, “I bestow on thee my daughter, that thine eyes may be gladdened by legitimate offspring.”[[63]] The oath of inviolable fidelity was now taken by both, and the ceremony concluded with fresh sacrifices.

The performance of rites so numerous generally consumed the whole day, so that the shades of evening were falling before the bride could be conducted to her future home. This hour, indeed, according to some, was chosen to conceal the blushes of the youthful wife.[[64]] And now commenced the secular portion of the ceremony. Numerous attendants, bearing lighted torches,[[65]] ran in front of the procession, while bands of merry youths dancing, singing, or playing on musical instruments, surrounded the nuptial car. Similar in this respect was the practice throughout Greece, even so early as the time of Homer, who thus, in his description of the Shield, calls up before our imagination the lively picture of an heroic nuptial procession:

“Here sacred pomp and genial feasts delight,

And solemn dance and Hymeneal rite.

Along the streets the new-made brides are led,

With torches flaming, to the nuptial bed.

The youthful dancers in a circle bound

To the soft flute and cittern’s silver sound.[[66]]

Through the fair streets the matrons, in a row,

Stand in their porches and enjoy the show.”[[67]]

The song on this occasion sung received the name of the “Carriage Melody,” from the carriage in which the married pair rode while it was chaunted.[[68]]

The house of the bridegroom, diligently prepared for their reception, was decorated profusely with garlands, and brilliantly lighted up. When, among the Bœotians, the lady, accompanied by her husband, had descended from the carriage, its axletree was burnt, to intimate that having found a home she would have no further use for it.[[69]] The celebration of nuptial rites generally puts people in good temper, at least for the first day; and new-married women at Athens stood in full need of all they could muster to assist them through the crowd of ceremonies which beset the entrances to the houses of their husbands. Symbols of domestic labours, pestles, sieves,[[70]] and so on, met the young wife’s eye on all sides. She herself, in all her pomp of dress, bore in her hands an earthen barley-parcher.[[71]] But, to comfort her, very nice cakes of sesamum,[[72]] with wine and fruit and other dainties innumerable, accompanied by gleeful and welcoming faces, appeared in the background beyond the sieves and pestles. The hymeneal lay,[[73]] with sundry other songs, all redolent of “joy and youth,” resounded through halls now her own. Mirth and delight ushered her into the banqueting-room, where appeared a boy covered with thorn branches, and oaken boughs laden with acorns, who, when the epithalamium chaunters had ceased, recited an ancient hymn beginning with the words, “I have escaped the worse and found the better.”[[74]] This hymn, constituting a portion of the divine service performed by the Athenians during a festival instituted in commemoration of the discovery of corn, by which men were delivered from acorn-eating, they introduced among the nuptial ceremonies to intimate, that wedlock is as much superior to celibacy as wheat is to mast. At the close of the recitation, there entered a troop of dancing girls crowned with myrtle-wreaths, and habited in light tunics reaching very little below the knee, just as we still behold them on antique gems and vases, who, by their varied, free, and somewhat wanton, movements, vividly represented all the warmth and energy of passion.

The feast which now ensued was, at Athens, to prevent useless extravagance, made liable to the inspection of certain magistrates. Both sexes partook of it; but, in conformity with the general spirit of their manners and institutions, the ladies, as in Egypt, sat at separate tables.[[75]] At these entertainments we may infer that, among other good things, great quantities of sweetmeats were consumed, since the woman employed in kneading and preparing them, and in officiating at the nuptial sacrifices, was deemed of sufficient importance to possess a distinct appellation, (δημιουργὸς,)[[76]] while the bride-cake, which doubtless was the crowning achievement of her art, received the name of Gamelios. The general arrangement of the banquet, however, they entrusted to the care of a sort of major-domo, who received the appellation of Trapezopoios.[[77]]

Among the princes and grandees of Macedonia the nuptial banquet differed very widely, as might be expected, from the frugal entertainments of the Athenians; but as it may assist us in comprehending the changes introduced into Hellenic manners by the conquests of Alexander and his successors, I shall crave the reader’s permission to lay before him a description, bequeathed to us by antiquity, of the magnificent banquet[[78]] given at the marriage of Caranos.

The guests, twenty in number, immediately on entering the mansion of the bridegroom, were crowned by his order with golden stlengides,[[79]] each valued at five pieces of gold. They were then introduced into the banqueting-hall, where the first article set before them on taking their places at the board was, no doubt, exceedingly agreeable, consisting of a silver beaker presented to each as a gift, which, when they had drained off, they delivered to their attendant slaves, who, according to the custom of the country, stood behind their seats with large baskets intended to contain the presents to be bestowed on them by the master of the feast.[[80]] There was then placed before every member of the company a bronze salver, of Corinthian workmanship, completely covered by a cake, on which were piled roast fowls and ducks and woodcocks, and a goose, together with other dainties in great abundance. These, likewise, followed the beakers into the corbels of the slaves, and were succeeded by numerous dishes, of which the guests were expected to partake on the spot. Next was brought in a capacious silver tray, also covered by a cake, whereon were heaped up geese, hares, kids, other cakes curiously wrought, pigeons, turtle-doves, partridges, with a variety of similar game, which, likewise, after they had been tasted, I presume, were handed to the servants.[[81]]

When the rage of hunger had been appeased, as it must soon have been, they washed their hands, after which crowns, wreathed from every kind of flower, were brought in, and along with them other golden stlengides, equal in weight to the former, were placed, for form’s sake, on the heads of the company, before they found their way to the baskets in the rear.

While they were still in a sort of delirium of joy, occasioned by the munificence of the bridegroom, there entered to them a troop of female flute players, singers, and Rhodian performers on the Sambukè,[[82]] naked in the opinion of some, though others reported them to have worn a slight tunic. When these performers had given them a sufficient taste of their art, they retired to make way for other female slaves, bearing each a pair of perfume vases, containing the measure of a cotyla, the one of gold, the other of silver, and bound together by a golden thong. Of these every guest received a pair. In fact, the princely bridegroom, in order, as we suppose, that his friends might share with him the joy of his nuptials, bestowed upon every one of them a fortune instead of a supper; for immediately upon the heels of the gift above described came a number of silver dishes, each of sufficient dimensions to contain a large roast pig, laid upon its back, with its paunch thrown open, and stuffed with all sorts of delicacies which had been roasted with it, such as thrushes, metræ, and becaficoes, with the yolk of eggs poured around them, and oysters and cockles. Of these dishes every person present received one, with its contents, and, immediately afterwards, such another dish containing a kid hissing hot. Upon this, Caranos observing that their corbils were crammed, caused to be presented to them wicker panniers, and elegant bread-baskets, plaited with slips of ivory.[[83]] Delighted by his generosity, the company loudly applauded the bridegroom, testifying their approbation by clapping their hands. Then followed other gifts, and perfume vases of gold and silver, presented to the company in pairs as before. The bustle having subsided, there suddenly rushed in a troop of performers worthy to have figured in the feast of the Chytræ,[[84]] at Athens, and along with them ithyphalli, jugglers, and naked female wonder-workers, who danced upon their heads in circles of swords, and spouted fire from their mouths. These performances ended, they set themselves more earnestly and hotly to drink, from capacious golden goblets, their wines, now less mixed than before, being the Thasian, the Mendian, and the Lesbian. A glass dish, three feet in diameter, was next brought in upon a silver stand, on which were piled all kinds of fried fish. This was accompanied by silver bread-baskets, filled with Cappadocian rolls, some of which they ate, and delivered the rest to their slaves. They then washed their hands, and were crowned with golden crowns, double the weight of the former, and presented with a third pair of gold and silver vases filled with perfume. They by this time had become quite delirious with wine, and began a truly Macedonian contest, in which the winner was he who swallowed most; Proteas, grandson of him who was boon companion to Alexander the Great, drinking upwards of a gallon at a draught, and exclaiming—

“Most joy is in his soul

Who drains the largest bowl.”

The immense goblet was then given him by Caranos, who declared, that every man should reckon as his own property the bowl whose contents he could despatch. Upon this, nine valiant bacchanals started up at once, and sought each to empty the goblet before the others, while one unhappy wight among the company, envying them their good fortune, sat down and burst into tears because he should go cupless away. The master of the house, however, unwilling that any should be dissatisfied, presented him with an empty bowl.[[85]]

A chorus of a hundred men now entered to chaunt the epithalamium; and after them dancing girls, dressed in the character of nymphs and nereids.

The drinking still proceeding, and the darkness of evening coming on, the circle of the hall appeared suddenly to dilate, a succession of white curtains, which had extended all round, and disguised its dimensions, being drawn up, while from numerous recesses in the wall, thrown open by concealed machinery, a blaze of torches flashed upon the guests, seeming to be borne by a troop of gods and goddesses, Hermes, Pan, Artemis, and the Loves, with numerous other divinities, each holding a flambeau and administering light to the assembled mortals.

While every person was expressing his admiration of this contrivance, wild boars of true Erymanthean dimensions, transfixed with silver javelins, were brought in on square trays with golden rims, one of which was presented to each of the company. To the bon vivants themselves nothing appeared so worthy of commendation, as that, when anything wonderful was exhibited, they should all have been able to get upon their legs, and preserve the perpendicular, notwithstanding they were so top-heavy with wine.

“Our slaves,” says one of the guests, “piled all the gifts we had received in our baskets; and the trumpet, according to the custom of the Macedonians, at length announced the termination of the repast.” Caranos next began that part of the potations in which small cups alone figured, and commanded the slaves to circulate the wine briskly; what they drank in this second bout being regarded as an antidote against that which they had swallowed before.

They were now, as might be supposed, in the right trim to be amused, and there entered to them the buffoon Mandrogenes, a descendant, it was said, of Strato the Athenian. This professional gentleman for a long time shook their sides with laughter, and terminated his performances by dancing with his wife, an old woman, upwards of eighty.[[86]] This fit of merriment would appear to have restored the edge of their appetites, and made them ready for those supplementary dainties which closed the achievements of the day. These consisted of a variety of sweetmeats, rendered more tempting by the little ivory-plaited corbels in which they nestled, delicate cakes from Crete, and Samos, and Attica, in the boxes in which they were imported.

Hippolochos, to whose enthusiasm for descriptions of good cheer, the reader is indebted for the above picturesque details, concludes his important narrative by observing, that, when they rose to depart, their anxiety respecting the wealth they had acquired sobered them completely. He then adds, addressing himself to his correspondent Lynceus, “Meanwhile you, my friend, remaining all alone at Athens, enjoy the lectures of Theophrastus with your thyme, rocket and delicate twists, mingling in the revels of the Linnean and Chytrean festivals. For our own part we are looking out, some for houses, others for estates, others for slaves, to be purchased by the riches which dropped into our baskets at the supper of Caranos.”

The marriage feast having been thus concluded, the bride was conducted to the harem by the light of flambeaux, round one of which, pre-eminently denominated the “Hymeneal Torch,” her mother, who was principal among the torch-bearers, twisted her hair-lace,[[87]] unbound at the moment from her head. On retiring to the nuptial chamber the bride, in obedience to the laws, ate a quince, together with the bridegroom, to signify, we are told, that their first conversation should be full of sweetness and harmony.[[88]] The guests continued their revels with music, dancing, and song, until far in the night.[[89]]

At daybreak on the following morning their friends re-assembled and saluted them with a new epithalamium, exhorting them to descend from their bower to enjoy the beauties of the dawn,[[90]] which in that warm and genial climate are even in January equal to those of a May morning with us. On appearing in the presence of their congratulators, the wife, as a mark of affection, presented her husband with a rich woollen cloak,[[91]] in part, at least, the production of her own fair hands. On the same occasion the father of the bride sent a number of costly gifts to the house of his son-in-law, consisting of cups, goblets, or vases of alabaster or gold, beds, couches, candelabra, or boxes for perfumes or cosmetics, combs, jewel-cases, costly sandals, or other articles of use or luxury. And, that so striking an instance of his wealth and generosity might not escape public observation, the whole was conveyed to the bridegroom’s house in great pomp by female slaves, before whom marched a boy clothed in white, and bearing a torch in his hand, accompanied by a youthful basket-bearer habited like a canephora in the sacred processions.[[92]] Customs in spirit exactly similar still survive among the primitive mountaineers of Wales, where the newly-married couple, in the middle and lower ranks of life, have their houses completely furnished by the free-will offerings, not only of their parents but of their friends. It is, however, incumbent on the recipients to make proof in their turn of equal generosity when any member of the donor’s family ventures on the hazards of housekeeping.


[1]. Προμνηστρία. Aristoph. Nub. 41. et Schol. Poll. iii. 41.

[2]. Athen. xiii. 2. Mr. Mitford defers too much to “the traditions received in the polished ages” when, upon the authority of such traditions and of such writers as Justin (ii. 6.), he appears to conclude that, before the time of Cecrops, the people of Attica were in knowledge and civilisation inferior to the wildest savages. Hist, of Greece, i. 58. Upon legends and authors of this description no reliance can be placed. If society existed, everything “indispensable” to society also existed; therefore, if marriage be so, it could not be unknown. Besides, how happens it that this same Cecrops who instituted marriage did not likewise teach them to sow corn, which, if Egypt was, when he left it, a civilised country, must have been as familiar to him as matrimony? This most necessary acquisition, however, they were left to make many ages afterwards, during the reign of Erechtheus. Justin, ii. 6.

[3]. Cf. Goguet, Origine des Lois. iv. 394, where the learned author contends most chivalrously for the received theory. Apollodorus, however, represents Cecrops as an Autochthon, συμφύες ἔχων σῶμα ἀνδρὸς καὶ δράκοντος. iii. 14. 1.—The reason why he was thus said to partake of two natures—half-man and half-snake—has been very variously and very fantastically explained. Diodorus Siculus, (i. p. 17,) derives his title to be considered half a man and half a beast, from his being, by choice a Greek, by nature a barbarian. Yet he conceives that it was the beast that civilised the man. Others explain διφυὴς somewhat differently to mean that he was of gigantic stature and understood two languages: διὰ μῆκος σώματος οὑτω καλούμενος, ὅς φήσιν ὁ Φιλόχορος, ἢ ὅτι Αἰγυπτίων τὰς δύο γλώσσας ἠπίστατο.—Euseb. No. 460.—Eustathius, familiar with the fables of the mythology, turns the tables upon Cecrops, and conceives that he may have civilised himself, not the Athenians, by settling in Attica. He supposes him ἀπὸ ὄφεως εἰς ἀνθρωπὸν ἐλθειν, ἐπειδὴ ἐκεῖνος ἐλθὼν εἰς Ἑλλάδα καὶ τὸν βάρβαρον Αἰγυπτιασμὸν ἀφεις, χρηστοὺς ἀναλάβετο τρόπους πολιτικοὺς.—In Dionys. Peneg. p. 56.

[4]. Deipnosoph. xiii. 2.—Compare the account in Diogenes Laertius, ii. 5. 10.—The conduct of Socrates, who married Xantippe to prove the goodness of his temper, was imitated, we are told, by a Christian lady, who “desired of St. Athanasius to procure for her, out of the widows fed from the ecclesiastical corban, an old woman morose, peevish, and impatient, that she might by the society of so ungentle a person have often occasion to exercise her patience, her forgiveness, and charity.”—Jeremy Taylor’s Life of Christ, i. 384.

[5]. Athen. xiii. 5.

[6]. Dinarch. in Demosth. § 11. Cf. Poll. viii. 40. Comm. p. 644.

[7]. Aristoph. Lysistrat. 78, seq.

[8]. Athen. xiii. 2.

[9]. Hom. Il. λ. 221, seq.

[10]. Hom. Odyss. η. 55, seq.

[11]. Keightley, Mythology, p. 490.

[12]. Serv. ad Virg. Æn. iii. 297.

[13]. Virg. Cir. 133.

Sed malus ille puer, quem nec sua flectere mater,

Iratum potuit, quem nec pater, atque avus idem

Jupiter.

[14]. For Valckernaer’s correction of Eurip. Hippol. 536, where for ὁ Δίος παῖς, he reads ὄλιγος παῖς, should, I think, be adopted. Diatrib. in Eurip. Perd. Dram. xv. p. 159, c. His whole defence of Zeus on this count is triumphant. Still the notes of Monk, Beck, Musgrave, and the Classical Journal, vi. 80, should be compared.

[15]. Diog. Laert. Proœm. § 6. To this practice Euripides probably alludes in the Andromache, v. 173, sqq., where Hermione describes, with scorn, the profligate manners of the barbarians. Catullus, inveighing against the impious depravity of a contemporary, observes—

“Nam Magus ex matre et gnato gignatur oportet,

Si vera est Persarum impia religio.”

Epig. lxxxiii. 3, seq. Pope Alexander VI. and the Emperor Shah Jehan have, in modern times, been accused of similar crimes. Bayle, Dict. Hist. et Crit. Art. Alexandre VI. and Bernier, Voyages, t. i. On the prohibited degrees of consanguinity, see Sepulveda, de Ritu Nupt. et Dispens. i. § 20, where he says, that the Pope could authorize all unions, save those between parents and children. “Et ideo hodiè non ligant, nisi quatenus ab ecclesia sunt assumptæ; ac propterea Papa dispensare potest cum omnibus personis, nisi cum matre et patre, ut matrimonium contrahant.” Card. Cajetan. ap. Sepulved. ub. sup.

[16]. Alcibiades. Athen. xii. 48. xiii. 34. Lysias, fr. p. 640.

[17]. Sch. Aristoph. Nub. 1353.

[18]. Corn. Nep. Vit. Cim. i. Plut. Cim. § 4, where we find this lady accused of an amour with the painter Polygnotos, who introduced her portrait among the Trojan ladies in the Stoa Pœcile.

[19]. Deipnosophist. xiii. 56. Muretus, Var. Lect. vii. i. discusses the question, but without throwing much new light upon it.—Andocides cont. Alcibiad. § 9, assigns Cimon’s amour with Elpinice as the cause of his banishment. We find, however, Archeptolis, son of Themistocles, marrying his half-sister Mnesiptolema. Plut. Themistocl. § 32.

[20]. Meurs. Themis Attica. i. 14. Philo. De Leg. Spec. ii. Eurip. Orest. 545. sqq.

[21]. Cf. Herod. v. 39. Pausan. iii. 3, 9.

[22]. Censor. de Die Natal. 14.

[23]. Thus Mantitheos, in Demosthenes, marries at the age of eighteen, in obedience to his father’s wishes.—Contr. Bœot. ii. § 1.

[24]. Aristot. Polit. ii. 7. vii. 14. Gœttling.—Cf. Malthus on Population, i. 9, 10.

[25]. Repub. v. t. vi. p. 237. De Legg. vi. t. vii. p. 452. Hesiod, Opp. et Dies, 696. Gœttling.

[26]. Polit. vii. 16. Hist. Anim. vii. 5, 6. Cf. Tac. de Mor. Germ. 20. Just. Instit. t. x. Brisson. de Jur. Nupt. p. 99.

[27]. Olympiod. in Meteor. c. 6. Meurs. Grec. Fer. v. 240.

[28]. Exod. xl. 22.

[29]. Iphigen. in Aul. 717.

[30]. Pindar, Isth. Od. viii. 41, seq. Dissen.—Rev. H. F. Cary’s translation, admirable for its closeness and spirit, p. 212.

[31]. Aristot. Polit. ii. 6. Tacit. de Mor. Germ. 18. Heracl. Pont. v. Θρακων. Leg. Salic. Art. 46. Hist. Gen. des Voy. vi. 144. Cf. Goguet, Orig. des Loix, i. 53.

[32]. In cases where the fathers were unable to dowry them, we find daughters growing old in the paternal mansion. Demosth. in Steph. i. § 20. Dowries were frequently considerable, amounting sometimes to a hundred minæ. § 18.

[33]. On their anxiety to discover the designs of the Fates in this respect, see Schol. Aristoph. Lysist. 597.

[34]. Goguet, Orig. des Loix, iii. 127, sqq.

[35]. Demosth. pro Phorm. § 8–10.

[36]. Opera et Dies, 405.

[37]. Theocrit. Eidyll. xxvii. 36.

[38]. Theocrit. Eidyll. ii. 66, ibique Schol.

[39]. Schol. Pind. Pyth. iv. ap. Meurs. Græc. Fer. p. 238.

[40]. Suid. v. προτέλεια. t. ii. p. 629. v. Æschyl. Eumen. 799. Cf. Cœl. Rhodig. xxviii. 24.

[41]. Poll. iii. 38. Schol. Pind. Pyth. x. 31. Aristoph. Thesmoph. 982. Kust.

[42]. Poll. iii. 38. ibique Comm. p. 529, seq. Cf. Spanh. Observ. in Callim. 149, 507. The youth usually cut off their hair on reaching the age of puberty. Athen. xiii. 83.

[43]. Pausan. i. 43. 4. Callim. in Del. 292. Spanh. Observat. t. ii. p. 503, sqq.

[44]. Stat. Theb. ii. 255, with the ancient commentary of Lutatius.

[45]. Πάροχος. Suid. v. Ζεῦγος ἡμιονικὸν. t. i. p. 1123, b. Eurip. Helen. 722, sqq.

[46]. This was the usual practice. When the bride was led home on foot she was called χαμαίπους a term of disrespect not far removed in meaning from our word tramper. Poll. iii. 40.

[47]. Aristoph. Plut. 529, et Schol. Suid. v. βαπτά. t. i. p. 533, b.

[48]. Eurip. Iphig. in Aul. 905. This chaplet was placed on the bride’s head by her mother. Hopfn. in loc.—In Locrensibus usu erat, ut matronæ ex lectis floribus nectant coronas. Nam emptagestare serta, vitio dabatur. Alex. ab Alexand. p. 58. b.

[49]. Aristoph. Plut. 529. id. Pac. 862.

[50]. Thucyd. i. 60.

[51]. Σισυμβρία. Dioscor. ii. 155.

[52]. Schol. Aristoph. Av. 160. In Bœotia the bride was crowned with a reed of wild asparagus, a prickly but sweet plant. Plut. Conjug. Præcept. 2. Bion. Epitaph. Adon. 88. On Nuptial Crowns vide Paschal. De Coronis, lib. ii. c. 16. p. 126, sqq.

[53]. Charit. Char. et Callir. Amor. iii. 44.

[54]. Orus Apollo Hieroglyph. viii. p. 6. b.

[55]. Meziriac sur les Epitres d’Ovide, p. 190, sqq. Ælian de Animal. Nat. iii. 9. Alex. ab Alexand. ii. 5, p. 57, b.

[56]. Theod. Prodrom. de Rhodanth. et Dosicl. Amor. ix.

[57]. Eurip. Iphig. in Aul. 1113.

[58]. Poll. iii. 38.

[59]. Procl. in Tim. t. v, Meziriac. p. 155.

[60]. Etym. Mag. 220, 53. sqq. Cf. Plut. Conj. Præcept. proœm. t. i. p. 321. Tauchnitz.

[61]. Plut. Conj. Precept. 27. Cœl. Rhodig. xxviii. 21.

[62]. Meurs. Lect. Att. iii. 6, 106, sqq. Herod. iv. 34.

[63]. Menand. ap. Clem. Alexand. Stromat. ii. p. 421, a. Heins.

[64]. Potter, Arch. Græc. ii. 281.

[65]. Eurip. Helen. 722. Hesiod, Scut. Heracl. 275, seq. where the torches are said to be borne by Dmoës.

[66]. In Hesiod a troop of blooming virgins, playing on the phorminx, lead the procession. αἱ δ᾽ ὑπὸ φορμίγγων ἄναγον χορὸν ἱμερόεντα. A band of youths follow, playing on the syrinx. See the note of Gœttling on Scut. Heracl. 274, p. 117, sqq.

[67]. Iliad, σ. 490, sqq. Pope’s Translation.

[68]. Ἁρμάτειον μέλος. Leisner, in his notes on Bos (Antiq. Græc. Pars. iv. c. ii. § 4.), observes, that in Suidas, Hesychius, and Eustathius (ad Il. χ. p. 1380. 5), these words have a different meaning from that which, with Bos and Potter (Antiq. Græc. ii. 282), I have adopted. But in the passage quoted by Henri de Valois (ad Harpocrat. p. 222), they would seem to bear the signification above given them.

[69]. Plut. Quæst. Roman. xx. 19. Valckenaer ad Herodot. iv. 114.

[70]. Poll. iii. 37.

[71]. Poll. i. 246.

[72]. Schol. Aristoph. Pac. 834.

[73]. Athen. xiv. 10. Anac. Od. xviii. Schol. Hom. Il. σ. 493. Pind. Pyth. iii. 17. Dissen. Schol. ad v. 27.

[74]. Suid. v. ἔφυγον κακὸν. t. i. p. 1113, d.

[75]. Luc. Conviv. § 8. In the sepulchral grottoes of Eilithyia, in the Thebaid, we find a rough fresco representing a marriage-feast, at which the men and women sit as described in the text.

[76]. Schol. Aristoph. Pac. 421. Poll. iii. 41. The water of the bath used on this occasion by the bride was, according to ancient custom, brought from the fountain of Enneakrounos. Etym. Mag. 568, 57, seq.

[77]. Poll. iv. 41.

[78]. Athen. iv. 2, seq.

[79]. Cf. Schol. Aristoph. Eq. 578. Ἔστι τι στλεγγὶς, δέρμα κεχρυσωμένον, ὁ περὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν φοροῦσι.—Poll. vii. 179.

[80]. When the host happened to be less rich or generous, people sometimes, in the corruption of later ages, endeavoured to steal what they could not obtain as a gift. Thus the sophist Dionysodoros is detected in Lucian with a cup stuffed into the breast of his mantle.—Conviv. seu Lapith. § 46.

[81]. This singular kind of liberality continued in fashion down to a very late period:—καὶ ἃμα εἰς ἐκικόμιστο ἡμῖν τὸ ἐντελὲς ὀνομαζόμενον δεῖπνον, μία ὄρνις ἑκάστω, καὶ κρέας ὑὸς, καὶ λαγῶα, καὶ ἰχθὺς ἐν ταγήνου, καὶ σησαμοῦντες, καὶ ὅσα ἐν τραγεῖν, καὶ ἐζῆν ἀποφέρεσθαι ταῦτα. Luc. Conviv. § 38.

[82]. The Sambukè was a stringed instrument of triangular form, invented by the poet Ibycos. It was sometimes called Iambukè, because used by chaunters of Iambic verse.—Suid. in v. t. ii. p. 709, c. d. Poll. iv. 59.

[83]. Casaubon is particular in his explanation of this passage, lest any one should fall into the singular mistake of supposing these nuptial bread-baskets to have been made with plaited thongs of elephant’s hide: “Lora elephantina fortasse aliquis capiat de corio elephanti: sed ἱμάντας arbitror appellare Hippolochum virgas subtiles ex ebore, quibus ceu vimine utebantur in contexendis panariis istis.”—Animadv. in Athen. t. vii. p. 392.

[84]. Vid. Animadv. in Athen. t. vii. p. 393. Meurs. Græcia Feriata. i. p. 30, seq.

[85]. In like manner, Alexander, son of Philip, when he entertained nine thousand persons at a marriage feast at Susa, presented each of them with a golden goblet, and paid all their debts, amounting to nearly ten thousand talents.—Plut. Alexand. § 70.

[86]. If octogenarian dancers were held in admiration in England, it would, according to Lord Bacon, be easy to form an army of them; since “there is, he says, scarce a village with us, if it be any whit populous, but it affords some man or woman of fourscore years of age; nay, a few years since there was, in the county of Hereford, a May-game, or morrice-dance, consisting of eight men, whose age computed together, made up eight hundred years, inasmuch as what some of them wanted of an hundred, others exceeded as much.” History of Life and Death, p. 20.

[87]. Senec. Thebais, Act. iv. 2, 505.

[88]. Plut. Conjug. Præcept. i. t. i. p. 321. Meurs. Them. Att. i. 14, p. 39. Petit. Legg. Att. vi. i. p. 449.

[89]. See Douglas, Essay on certain points of resemblance between the ancient and modern Greeks, p. 114, and Chandler, Travels, ii. 152.

[90]. Theocrit, Eidyll. xviii. 9.

[91]. Ἀπαυλιστηρία. Poll. iii. 40.

[92]. Etymol. Mag. 354. 1. sqq. Suid. v. ἐπαυλία, t. i. p. 964, e. sqq.


CHAPTER V.
CONDITION OF MARRIED WOMEN.

From the spirit pervading the foregoing ceremonies it will be seen, that married women enjoyed at Athens numerous external tokens of respect. We must now enter the harem, and observe how they lived there. Most, perhaps, of the misapprehensions which prevail on this subject arise out of one very obvious omission,—a neglect to distinguish between the exaggeration and satire of the comic poets, much of which, in all countries, has been levelled at women, and the sober truth of history, less startling, and therefore, less palatable. To comprehend the Athenians, however, we must be content to view them as they were, with many virtues and many vices, often sinning against their women, but never as a general rule treating them harshly. Indeed, according to no despicable testimony, their errors when they erred would appear to have lain in the contrary direction.[[93]]

Certainly the mistress of a family at Athens was not placed above the necessity of extending her solicitude to the government of her household, though too many even there neglected it, degenerating into the resemblance of those mawkish, insipid, useless things, without heart or head, who often in our times fill fashionable drawing-rooms, and have their reputations translated to Doctors’ Commons. Of female education I have already spoken, together with the several acts and ceremonies, which conducted an Athenian woman to the highest and most honourable station her sex can fill on earth. In this new relation she shares with her husband that domestic patriarchal sovereignty, pictures of which abound in the Scriptures. How great soever might be the establishment, she was queen of every thing within doors. All the slaves, male and female, came under her control.[[94]] To every one she distributed his task, and issued her commands; and when there were no children who required her care, she might often be seen sitting in the recesses of the harem, at the loom, encircled, like an Homeric princess, by her maids,[[95]] laughing, chatting, or, along with them, exercising her sweet voice in songs,[[96]] those natural bursts of melody which came spontaneously to the lips of a people whose every-day speech resembled the music of the nightingale.

Xenophon, in that interesting work, the Œconomics, introduces an Athenian gentleman laying open to Socrates the internal regulations of his family. In this picture, the wife occupies an important position in the foreground. She is, indeed, the principal figure around which the various circumstances of the composition are grouped with infinite delicacy and effect. Young and beautiful she comes forth hesitating and blushing at being detected in some slight economical blunders. The husband takes her by the hand; they converse in our presence, and while the interior arrangements of a Greek house are unreservedly laid open, we discover the exact footing on which husband and wife lived at Athens, and a state of more complete confidence, of greater mutual affection, of more considerate tenderness on the one side, or feminine reliance and love on the other, it would be difficult to conceive.

Ischomachos, I admit, is to be regarded as a favourable specimen; he unites in his character the qualities of an enterprising and enlightened country gentleman, with those of a politician and orator of no mean order, and his probity as a citizen infuses an air of mingled grandeur and sweetness into his domestic manners. Describing a conversation which, soon after their marriage, took place between him and his youthful wife, he observes:—“When we had together taken a view of our possessions I remarked to her that, without her constant care and superintendence, nothing of all she had seen would greatly profit us. And taking my illustration from the science of politics, I showed that, in well-regulated states, it is not deemed sufficient that good laws are enacted, but that proper persons are chosen to be guardians of those laws, who not only reward with praise such as yield them due obedience, but visit also their infraction with punishment. Now, my love,” said I, “you must consider yourself the guardian of our domestic commonwealth, and dispose of all its resources as the commander of a garrison disposes of the soldiers under his orders. With you it entirely rests to determine respecting the conduct of every individual in the household, and, like a queen, to bestow praise and reward on the dutiful and obedient, while you keep in check the refractory by punishment and reproof. Nor should this high charge appear burdensome to you; for though the duties of your station may seem to involve deeper solicitude and necessity for greater exertion than we require even from a domestic, these greater cares are rewarded by greater enjoyments; since, whatever ability they may display in the improving or protecting of their master’s property, the measure of their advantages still depends upon his will, while you, as its joint owner, enjoy the right of applying it to whatever use you please. It follows, therefore, that as the person most interested in its preservation you should cheerfully encounter superior difficulties.”

Having listened attentively to the somewhat quaint discourse of the Economist, Socrates felt anxious, as well he might, to learn the result; for the lady, expected thus wisely “to queen it,” was as yet but fifteen. His faith, however, in womanhood was great; and Xenophon, who but reflects from a less brilliant mirror the Socratic wisdom, delivers, under the mask of Ischomachos, the mingled convictions both of the master and the pupil. The moral beauty of the dialogue, and its truth to nature, would have been lost had the lady at all shrunk from the duties of her high office. But her ambition was at once awakened. The obscurity to which, in the time of Pericles, women were, by the manners of the country, condemned, now no longer seemed desirable, and the love of fame was urged upon her as a motive to extraordinary exertions.[[97]] Her reply is highly characteristic. Running, with the unerring tact of her sex, even in advance of her husband, she desired him to believe that he would have formed an extremely erroneous opinion of her character, had he for a moment supposed that the care of their common property could ever have proved burdensome to her: on the contrary, the really grievous thing would have been to require her to be neglectful of it!

Men always conceive they are complimenting a woman when they attribute to her a masculine understanding, and they thus, in fact, do place her on the highest intellectual level known to them. Socrates adopted this style of compliment in speaking of the wife of Ischomachos. And I may here remark, that we need no other proof of how differently the Athenians felt on the subject of women from the Orientals with whom they have been compared, than the mere circumstance of their conversing openly with strangers respecting their wives. In the East, a greater affront could scarcely be offered a man than to inquire about his female establishment. The most an old friend does is to say, “Is your house well?”—whereas at Athens, women formed a never-failing theme in all companies; which proves them to have been there contemplated in a different light. In fact, the sentiments of Ischomachos, every way worthy the most chivalrous people of antiquity, could only have sprung up in a society where just and exalted notions of female virtue prevailed; for, under the word “high-mindedness,” we find him grouping every refined and estimable quality which a gentlewoman can possess.

But, perhaps, the reader will not be displeased if we introduce dramatically upon the scene an Athenian married pair discussing in his presence a question closely connected with domestic happiness. There is little risk of exaggeration. The picture is by Xenophon, a writer whose subdued and sober colouring is calculated rather to diminish than otherwise the poetical features of his subject.

By Heaven! exclaimed Socrates, according to this account, your wife’s understanding must be of a highly masculine character.

Nay, but suffer me, answered the husband, to place before you a convincing proof of her high-mindedness, by showing how, on a single representation, she yielded to me on a subject extremely important.

Proceed, cried the philosopher, (who had not found Xantippe thus manageable,) proceed; for, believe me, friend, I experience much greater delight in contemplating the active virtues of a living woman, than the most exquisite female form by the pencil of Zeuxis would afford me.

Observing, said Ischomachos, that my wife sought by cosmetics[[98]] and other arts of the toilette to render herself fairer and ruddier than she had issued from the hands of Nature, and that she wore high-heeled shoes in order to add to her stature,—Tell me, wife,[[99]] I began, would you now esteem me to be a worthy participator of your fortunes if, concealing the true state of my affairs, I aimed at appearing richer than I am, by exhibiting to you heaps of false money, necklaces of gilded wood for gold, and wardrobes of spurious for genuine purple?

Nay, exclaimed my wife, interrupting me, put not the injurious supposition: it is what you could not be guilty of. For, were such your character I could never love you from my soul.

Well, by entering together into the bonds of marriage are we not mutually invested with a property in each other’s persons?

People say so.

They say truly: and since this is the case shall I not more sincerely evince my esteem for you by watching sedulously over my own health and well-being, and displaying to your gaze the natural hues of a manly complexion, than if, neglecting these, I presented myself with rouged cheeks, eyes encircled by paint, and my whole exterior false and hollow?

Indeed, she replied, I prefer the native colour of your cheeks to any artificial bloom, and could never gaze with so much delight into any eyes as into yours—bright and sparkling with health.

Then believe no less of me, said I; but be well persuaded that, in my judgment, there are no tints so beautiful as those with which nature has adorned your cheeks. The same rule indeed holds universally. For, even in the inferior creation, every living thing delights most in individuals of its own species. And so it is with man whom nothing so truly pleases as to behold the image of his own nature mirrored in another and a fairer form of humanity. Besides, false beauties, though they may deceive the incurious glance of strangers,[[100]] must inevitably be detected by persons living always together. Women necessarily appear undisguised when first rising in the morning, before they have undergone the renovation of the toilette; and perspiration, or tears, or the waters of the bath, will even at other times float away their artificial complexions.

And what, in the name of all the gods, did she say to that? inquired Socrates.

What? replied the husband. Why, that for the future she would abjure all meretricious ornaments, and consent to appear decked with that simple grace and beauty which she owed to nature.

At Sparta married persons, as in France, occupied separate beds; but among the Athenians and in other parts of Greece a different custom prevailed. The same remark may be applied to the Heroic Ages. Odysseus and Penelope, Alcinoös and Arete, Paris and Helen, occupy the same chamber and the same couch. The women in the Lysistrata of Aristophanes appealed to this circumstance in justification of their late appearance at the female assembly held before day, and Euphiletos in the oration of Lysias on Eratosthenes’ murder, who admits us freely into the recesses of the harem, confirms this fact, except, that when the mother suckled her own child she usually slept with it in a separate bed. At Byzantium also the same practice prevailed, as we learn from a very amusing anecdote. Python an orator of that city who, like Falstaff, seems to have been somewhere about two yards in the waist, once quelled an insurrection by a jocular allusion to this part of domestic economy. “My dear fellow-citizens,” cried he to the enraged multitude, “you see how fat I am. Well! my wife is still fatter than I, yet when we agree one small bed will contain us both; but, if we once begin to quarrel, the whole house is too little to hold us.”[[101]]

We have seen above how absolute was the authority of women over their household, and this authority likewise extended to their children. The father no doubt could exercise, when he chose, considerable influence; but as most of his time was spent abroad, in business or politics, the chief charge of their early education, the first training of their intellect, the first rooting of their morals and shaping of their principles devolved upon the mother.[[102]] There have been writers, indeed, to whom this has seemed a circumstance to be lamented. But their judgment probably was warped by theory. In the original discipline of the mind, great attainments and experience of the world are less needed than tact to discern, and patience to apply, those minute incentives to action which women discover with a truer sagacity than we do. In this task, ever pleasing to a true mother, the aid of nurses, however, was usually obtained; nor are we, as Cramer observes, on this account to blame the Athenian ladies, so long as they did not, as in after times was too much the fashion, consider their whole duty performed when they had delivered their children to the nurse.

It will be evident from what has been said, that an Athenian lady who conscientiously discharged her duties was very little exposed to ennui. She arose in the morning with the lark, roused her slaves, distributed to all their tasks,[[103]] superintended the operations of the nursery, and, on days frequently recurring, went abroad in the performance of rites specially allotted to her sex. But, one effect of democracy is to confer undue influence upon women.[[104]] And this influence, where by education or otherwise they happen to be luxurious or vain, must infallibly prove pernicious to the state. At Athens, the number of this class of women, extremely limited in the beginning, augmented rapidly during the decline of the republic, and the comic poets substituting a part for the whole, invest their countrywomen generally with the qualities belonging exclusively to these.—But, the success of such writers depending generally on ingenious extravagance and exaggeration, we must be on our guard against their insinuations. Their faith in the existence of virtue, male or female, has, in all ages, if we are to judge by their works, been very lanksided. In their view, if there has been one good woman since the world began, it is as much as there has. Accordingly when these lively caricaturists describe the female demos as addicted extravagantly to wine[[105]] and pawning their wardrobe to purchase it—as compelling the men by their intemperance to keep their cellars under lock and key, and still defeating them by manufacturing false ones—as forming illicit connexions, and having recourse to the boldest stratagems in furtherance of their intrigues, we must necessarily suppose them to have amused themselves at the expense of truth; though that, among the Athenians, there were examples enough of women of whom all this might be said, it would be absurd to deny.

We know that where the minds of married dames are fixed chiefly upon dress and show their anxiety has often very little reference to their husbands. And if it be their object to excite admiration out of doors, it is simply as a means to an end, which end, in too many cases, is intrigue. Proofs exist that among the Athenian ladies there were numbers whose idle lives and luxurious habits produced their natural results—loose principles and dissolute manners. The beauty of Alcibiades drew them after him in crowds,[[106]] though we do not read that, like another very handsome personage in a modern republic, the son of Cleinias found it necessary to carry about a club to defend himself from their importunities. They went abroad elaborately habited and adorned merely to attract the gaze of men,[[107]] and having thus sown the first seeds of intrigue, they took care to cultivate and bring them to maturity. The felicitous invention of Falstaff’s friends, which got him safe out of Ford’s house in a buck-basket, was not so new as Shakspeare, perhaps, imagined. His predecessors on the Athenian stage had already discovered stratagems equally happy among their countrywomen, whose lovers we find made their way into the harem wrapped up in straw, like carp—or crept through holes made purposely by fair hands in the eaves—or scaled the envious walls by the help of those vulgar contrivances called ladders.[[108]]

The laws of Athens, however, were more modest than its women. For, from the very interference of the laws, it is evident, that the example of the Spartan ladies, who enjoyed the privilege of exposing themselves indecently, found numerous imitators among the female democracy. To repress this unbecoming taste, it was enacted, that any woman detected in the streets in indecorous deshabille[[109]] should be fined a thousand drachmæ, and, to add disgrace to pecuniary considerations, the name of the offender, with the amount of the fine, was inscribed on a tablet and suspended on a certain platane tree in the Cerameicos. However, what constituted indecorous deshabille in the opinion of Philippides, who procured the enactment of the law, it might be difficult to determine. Possibly it may have consisted in the too great exposure of the bosom, for the covering of which ladies in remoter ages appear to have depended very much on their veils. Thus in the interview of Helen with Aphrodite she saw, says the poet, her beautiful neck, desire-inflaming bosom, and eyes bright with liquid splendour. Her garments concealed the rest.[[110]] Now, as it was customary for ladies to appear veiled in public, the object of the law of Philippides may simply have been to enforce the observance of this ancient practice. The magistrates who presided over this very delicate part of Athenian police were denominated “Regulators of the women,”[[111]] an office which Sultan Mahmood in our day took upon himself. They were chosen by the twenty from among the wealthiest and most virtuous of the citizens, and in their office resembled the Roman Censors and similar magistrates in several other states.[[112]]

The evil influence of women of this description,[[113]] who, as Milton expresses it, would fain at any rate ride in their coach and six, was perceived and lamented by the philosophers. To their vain and frivolous notions might be traced, in part at least, the love of power, of trifling distinctions, of unmanly pleasures, which infected the Athenians towards the decline of their republic. By them the springs of education were poisoned, and the seeds sown of those inordinate artificial desires which convulse and overthrow states. In vain did philosophers inculcate temperance and moderation, while the youth were imbued with different opinions by their mothers. The lessons of the Academy were overgrown and checked in the harem. Such dames no doubt would grieve to find their husbands content with little[[114]] (as was the case with Xantippe) and not numbered with the rulers, since their consequence among their own sex was thus lessened. They would have had them keen worshipers of Mammon, eagerly squabbling and wrangling in the law-courts or the ecclesiæ, not cultivators of domestic habits or philosophical tranquillity and content: and in conversing with their sons would be careful to recommend maxims the reverse of the father’s, with all the cant familiar to women of their character.[[115]]

Our review of female society at Athens would be incomplete were we to overlook the Hetairæ who exerted so powerful an influence over the morals and destinies of the state. They occupied much the same position which the same class of females still do in modern communities, cultivated in mind, polished and elegant in manners, but scarcely deserving as a body to be viewed in the light in which a very distinguished historian has placed them.[[116]] Their position, however, was anomalous, resembling rather that of kings’ mistresses in modern times, whose vices are tolerated on account of their rank, than that of plebeian sinners whose deficiencies in birth and fortune exclude them from good society. There is much difficulty in rightly apprehending the notions of the ancients on the subject of these women. At first sight we are shocked to find that, during one festival, they were permitted to enter the temples in company with modest ladies. But in what Christian country are they excluded from church?[[117]] Again, behold in our theatres the matron and the courtezan in the same box, while at Athens even foreign women were not suffered to approach the space set apart for the female citizens. Nevertheless, though on this point so rigid, they were in their own houses permitted occasionally to visit them[[118]] and receive instructions from their lips, as in Turkish harems ladies do from the Almè.

It is not permitted here to lift the curtain from the manners of these ladies. But their position, pregnant with evil to the state through its contaminating influences on the minds of youth, must be comprehensively explained before a correct idea can be formed of the internal structure of the Athenian commonwealth, of the germs of dissolution which it concealed within its own bosom, or the premature blight which an unspiritual system of morals was mainly instrumental in producing. No doubt the question whether the existence of such a class of persons should be tolerated at all, is environed by difficulties almost insurmountable. They have always existed and therefore, perhaps, it is allowable to infer that they always will exist; but this does not seem to justify Solon for sanctioning, by legislative enactments, a modification of moral turpitude debasing to the individual, and consequently detrimental to the state. To do evil that good may come, is as much a solecism in politics as in ethics. On this point I miss the habitual wisdom of the Athenian legislator. Lycurgus himself could have enacted nothing more at variance with just principles, or more subversive of heroic sentiments.

The Hetairæ,[[119]] recognised by law and scarcely proscribed by public opinion, may be said to have constituted a sort of monarchical leaven in the very heart of the republic; they shared with the sophists, whom I have already depicted, the affections of the lax ambitious youths, panting at once for pleasure and distinction, fostered expensive tastes and luxurious habits, increased consequently their aptitude to indulge in peculation, shared with the unprincipled the spoils of the state, and vigorously paved the way for the battle of Chæronea. But if their existence was hurtful to the community, so was it often full of bitterness to themselves. In youth, no doubt, when beauty breathed its spell around them, they were puffed up and intoxicated with the incense of flattery[[120]]—their conversation at once sprightly and learned seemed full of charms—their houses spacious as palaces and splendidly adorned were the resort of the gay, the witty, the powerful, nay, even of the wise—for Socrates did not disdain to converse with Theodota or to imbibe the maxims of eloquence from Aspasia. But when old age came on, what were they? It then appeared, that the lively repartees and grotesque extravagancies which had pleased when proceeding from beautiful lips, seemed vapid and poor from an old woman. The wrinkles which deformed their features were equally fatal to their wisdom that flitted from their dwellings, and became domiciliated with the last beautiful importation from Ionia. Thus deserted, the most celebrated Hetairæ became a butt for the satire even of the most clownish. The wit wont to set the table in a roar scarcely served to defend them against the jests of the agora.

“How do you sell your beef?” said Laïs to a young butcher in the flesh-market.

“Three obels the Hag,” answered the coxcomb.

“And how dare you, said the faded beauty, here in Athens pretend to make use of barbarian weights?”

The word in the original signifying an old woman and a Carian weight, it suited her purpose to understand him in the latter sense.[[121]]

Worshiped and slighted alternately they adopted narrow and interested principles in self-defence. Besides, generally barbarians by birth, they brought along with them from their original homes the creed best suited to their calling—“Let us eat and drink for to-morrow we die.” They were often the lumber of Asia and hence known under the appellation of “strange women,” though it is very certain, that many female citizens were from time to time enrolled among their ranks, some through the pressure of adversity, others from a preference for that kind of life. Their education it must be conceded, however, was far more masculine than that of other women. They cultivated all the sciences but that of morals, and concealed their lack of modesty by the dazzling splendour of their wit. Hence among a people with whom intellect was almost everything their company was much sought after and highly valued, not habitually perhaps by statesmen, but by wits, poets, sophists, and young men of fashion.

Many of the bons mots uttered by those ladies have been preserved. One day at table Stilpo the philosopher accused Glycera of corrupting the manners of youth.

“My friend,” said she, “we are both to blame; for you, in your turn, corrupt their minds by innumerable forms of sophistry and error. And if men be rendered unhappy, what signifies it whether a philosopher or a courtezan be the cause?”

It is to her that a joke, somewhat hackneyed but seldom attributed to its real author, was originally due. A gentleman presenting her with a very small jar of wine sought to enhance its value by pretending it was sixteen years old. “Then,” replied she, “it is extremely little for its age.” Gnathena too, another member of the sisterhood, sprinkled her conversation with sparkling wit, but too redolent of the profession to be retailed. Some of her sayings, however, will bear transplantation, though they must suffer by it. To stop the mouth of a babbler who observed that he had just arrived from the Hellespont—“And yet,” she remarked, “it is clear to me that you know nothing of one of its principal cities!” “Which city is that?”—“Sigeion,”[[122]] (in which there appears to be a reference to the word Silence) answered Gnathena. Several noisy gallants, who being in her debt sought to terrify her by menaces, once saying they would pull her house down, and had pickaxes and mattocks ready, “I disbelieve it,” she replied, “for if you had, you would have pledged them to pay what you owe me.” A comic poet remarking to one of these ladies that the water of her cistern was delightfully cold—“It has always been so,” she replied, “since we have got into the habit of throwing your plays into it.” The repartee of Melitta to a conceited person who was said to have fled ignominiously from the field of battle is exceedingly keen. Happening to be eating of a hare which she seemed much to enjoy, our soldier, desirous of directing attention to her, inquired if she knew what was the fleetest animal in the world. “The runaway,” replied Melitta.

The same taste which induces many persons of rank in our own day to marry opera dancers and actresses, in antiquity favoured the ambition of the Hetairæ, many of whom rose from their state of humiliation to be the wives of satraps and princes. This was the case with Glycera, whom after the death of Pythionica, Harpalos sent for from Athens, and domiciliated within his royal palace at Tarsos. He required her to be saluted and considered as his queen, and refused to be crowned unless in conjunction with her. Nay, he had even the hardihood to erect in the city of Rossos, a brazen statue to her, beside his own.[[123]] Herpyllis, one of the same sisterhood, won the heart of Aristotle, and was the mother of Nicomachos. She survived the philosopher, and was carefully provided for by his will.[[124]] Even Plato, whose genius and virtue are still the admiration of mankind, succumbed to the charms of Archæanassa, an Hetaira of Colophon, whose beauty, which long survived her youth, he celebrated in an epigram still extant.[[125]]

Of all these ladies, however, not even excepting Phryne, or the Sicilian Laïs,[[126]] Aspasia[[127]] has obtained the most widely extended fame. This illustrious woman, endowed by nature with a mind still more beautiful than her beautiful form, exercised over the fortunes of Athens an influence beyond the reach of the greatest queen. Her genius, unobserved for some time, by degrees drew around her all those whom the love of letters or ambition induced to cultivate their minds. Her house became a sort of club-room, where eloquence, politics, philosophy, mixed with badinage, were daily discussed, and whither even ladies of the highest rank resorted to acquire from Aspasia those accomplishments which were already beginning to be in fashion. From her Socrates professed to have in part acquired his knowledge of rhetoric, and it is extremely probable that he could trace to the habit of conversing with one so gifted by nature, so polished by rare society, something of that exquisite facility and lightness of manner which characterize his familiar dialectics. No doubt, we may attribute something of the reputation she acquired to the desire to disparage Pericles. It was thought that by appropriating many of his harangues to her they could bring him down nearer their own level. She was, in influence and celebrity, the Madame Roland of Athens, though living in times somewhat less troubled.

The name of Phryne, though not so celebrated, is still familiar to every one, partly, perhaps, through the accusation brought against her in the court of Heliæa,[[128]] by Euthios. She was a native of Thespiæ, but established at Athens, and beloved by the orator Hyperides, who undertook her defence. His pleading, it may therefore be presumed, was eloquent. Perceiving, however, he could make but little impression on the judges, he had her called into court, and, as if by accident, bared her bosom,[[129]] the fairness and beauty of which heaving with anguish and terror—for it was a matter of life and death—so wrought upon the august judges that her acquittal immediately followed. The Heliasts, renowned for their upright decisions, were suspected on this occasion of undue commiseration, though the charge was probably grounded on some frivolous pretence of impiety; and, to prevent the recurrence of similar partiality in future, a decree was passed, rendering it illegal thus to extort the pity of the court, or, on any account, to introduce the accused, whether man or woman, into the presence of the judges. It was on her figure that Apelles chiefly relied in painting his Aphrodite rising from the sea, as Phryne herself rose before all Greece on the beach at Eleusis; and Praxiteles also wrought from the same model his Cnidean Aphrodite.[[130]] This sculptor, who was the rival of Hyperides, and, indeed, of all Athens, in the affections of Phryne, permitted her one day to make choice for herself from two statues of his own workmanship—the Eros and the Satyr. Discovering, by a stratagem, that he himself preferred the former, she was guided by his judgment, and dedicated the winged god in a temple of her native city. In admiration of her beauty, a number of gentlemen erected, by subscription, in her honour, a golden statue at Delphi. It was the work of Praxiteles, and stood on a pillar of white marble of Pentelicos, between the statues of Archidamos, king of Sparta, and Philip, son of Amyntas. The inscription ran simply thus:—

“Phryne, of Thespiæ, daughter of Epicles.”

On seeing this statue, Crates, the cynic, exclaimed, “Behold a trophy of Hellenic wantonness!”

It is not, of course, among women of this class, that we should expect to discover proofs of female truth or enduring attachment. But the human heart sometimes triumphs over adverse circumstances.[[131]] History has preserved the memory of more than one act of heroism performed by an Hetaira, to show that woman doth not always put off her other virtues, though habitually trampling on the one which constitutes for her the boundary between honour and infamy.

Ptolemy, son of Philadelphos, while commanding the garrison of Ephesos, had along with him the courtezan, Irene, who, when his Thracian mercenaries rose in revolt, fled along with him to the temple of Artemis, where they fell together, sprinkling the altar with their blood.[[132]] Alcibiades, too, of all his friends, found none adhere to him in his adversity but an Hetaira, who cheerfully exposed her life for his sake; and, when the assassins of Pharnabazos had achieved their task, performed, like another Antigone, the last duties over the ashes of the man she loved.[[133]] Other anecdotes might be added equally honourable to their feelings and fidelity, but these will sufficiently illustrate their character and the estimation in which they were generally held.


[93]. For example, public opinion regarded it as more atrocious to kill a woman than a man.—Arist. Prob. xxix. 11.

[94]. She wakes them in the morning.—Aristoph. Lysist. 18. This comic poet gives a concise sketch of an Athenian woman’s morning work, which rendered their going out difficult at such an hour:—Χαλεπή τε γυναικῶν ἔξοδος· ἠ μὲν γὰρ ἡμῶν περὶ τὸν ἀνδρ’ ἐκύπτασεν· ἠ δ᾽ οἰκέτην ἤγειρεν· ἡ δὲ παιδίον κατέκλινεν· ἡ δ᾽ ἐλουσεν· ἠ δ᾽ ἐψώμισεν.—Lysist. 16, sqq.

[95]. Precisely the same picture is presented in the interior of Jason’s palace at Pheræ, where we find the tyrant’s mother at work in the midst of her handmaidens.—Polyæn. Stratag. vi. i. 5.

[96]. Plat. de Legg. t. viii. p. 36.—Among the Thracians, and many other people, women were employed in agriculture, as they are in England and France, as herdswomen and shepherds, and every other laborious employment, like men.—Id. ib.

[97]. That this passion led women to interfere too frequently with politics may be inferred from the remark of Theophrastus, that to be versed in the science of domestic economy was more honourable to them.—Stob. 85. 7. Gaisf.

[98]. Xen. Œcon. x. ii. 60. Among the Orientals we find there existed a peculiar collyrium for the white of the eye. Bochart, Hieroz, Pt. ii. p. 120.

[99]. Γύναι, a term of greatest endearment among the Greeks, as with the French “ma femme.” On this point our language is more sophisticated. The practice reprehended by Ischomachos, in the text, was generally prevalent in Greece, where certain classes of the community, who could afford nothing better, used, when they had painted the rest of their skin white, to dye the cheeks with mulberry-juice, and paint the eyelids black at the edge. In hot weather, therefore, dusky streamlets sometimes flowed from the corners of their eyes; and the roses melted from their cheeks, and dropped into their bosoms. They imitated old age, too, by covering their hair with white powder. (Athen. xiii. 6.) It was likewise, at one time, the fashion to bring forward their curls so as to conceal the forehead, as was the practice in France and England during a part of the eighteenth century.—Lucian, Dial. Meret. i. t. iv. p. 123.

[100]. Cf. Lucian, Amor. § 42. Aristoph. Nub. 49.

[101]. Athen. xii. 74.

[102]. Xenoph. Œcon. vii. 12. 24. Cf. A. Cramer. de Educ. Puer. ap. Athen. 9. This writer acutely remarks, (p. 13,) that the words καὶ αὐτος ὁ πατὴρ in Plat. Protag. p. 325. d. show that it was seldom the father meddled with the matter. The mother, therefore, from early habit, was held in greater love and reverence than the father. Casaub. ad Theoph. Char. p. 187.

[103]. Aristoph. Lysist. 18. Plato, who admired the practice, requires his airy female citizens to go and do likewise. Καὶ δὴ καὶ δέσποιναν ἐν οἰκίᾳ ὑπὸ θεραπαινίδων ἐγείρεσθαί τινων καὶ μὴ πρώτην αὐτὴν ἐγείρειν τὰς ἄλλας, αἰσχρὸν λέγειν χρὴ πρὸς αὑτοὺς δοῦλον τε καὶ δούλην καὶ παῖδα, καὶ εἴ πως ἦν οἷον τε, ὅλην καὶ πᾶσαν τὴν οἰκίαν[οἰκίαν]. De Legg. vii. t. viii. p. 40. Bekk.

[104]. Cf. Plat. de Rep. t. vi. p. 102.

[105]. Arist. Lysist. 113, seq. 205.

[106]. Xenoph. Memor. i. 2. 24. Ἀλκιβιάδης δ᾽ αὖ διὰ μὲν κάλλος ὑπὸ πολλῶν καὶ σεμνῶν γυναικῶν θηρώμενος. κ. τ. λ.

[107]. Aristoph. Nub. 60. Married ladies occasionally rode out in carriages with their husbands. Demosth. cont. Mid. § 44. Even at Sparta we find young ladies possessed of their carriages called Canathra, resembling in form griffins, or goat-stags, in which they rode abroad during religious processions. Plut. Ages. § 19. Cf. Xenoph. Ages. p. 73. Hutchin. cum not. et add. p. 89. Athen. iv. 16, cum annot. p. 449. Scheffer, de Re Vehic. i. 7. p. 68. The same custom prevailed in Thessaly and elsewhere. Athen. xii. 37. Luxurious ladies at Athens used to perfume even the soles of their feet. Their lapdogs lived in great state, and slept on carpets of Miletos. Athen. xii. 78.

[108]. Xenarch. ap. Athen. xiii. 24.

[109]. Ἀκοσμοῦσαι. Harpocrat. v. ὅτι χίλιας. κ. τ. λ. Potter, Arch. Græc. ii. 309, understands his law to have meant, women who literally appeared laconically in the streets. “Undressed,” is his word. But will ἀκοσμοῦσαι which Meursius, Lect. Att. ii. 5, 62, renders by “inornatius,” bear such a signification? Κόσμος γυναικῶν does not, as Kühn observes, signify ornamentum mulierum, nor ἀκοσμοῦσαι inornatius prodeuntes feminæ; but κόσμος is εὐταξία and ἀκοσμοῦσαι means ἀτακτοῦσαι, that is, women who acted in any way whatever contrary to decorum and good manners, which persons appearing indecently dressed in public unquestionably do.—Ad. Poll. viii. 112. p. 763. On the manners of the Tyrrhenian women, Cf. Athen. xii. 14. sqq.

[110]. Il. γ. 396. sqq. Cf. 141.

[111]. Γυναικόσμοι. Poll. viii. 112.

[112]. Cf. Arist. Pol. iv. 15. 120.

[113]. On the luxurious manners of the Syracusan women see Athen. xii. 20. In such disorders may be discovered the first germs of the decay of states; on which account prudent statesmen even in oligarchies have sought to restrain the licentious manners of women. Thus Fra Paolo: “Let the women be kept chaste, and in order to that, let them live retired from the world; it being certain that all open lewedness has had its first rise from a salutation, from a smile.”—i. § 20. To this let us add the opinion of the female Pythagorician Phintys: ἴδια δὲ γυναικὸς, τὸ οἰκουρὲν, καὶ ἔνδον μένεν καὶ ἐκδέχεσθαι καὶ θεραπεύεν τὸν ἄνδρα. Stob. Florileg., 74. 61. Both the philosophical lady, however, and the Venetian monk have their views corroborated by the authority of Pericles: τῆς τε γὰρ ὑπαρχούσης φύσεως μὴ χείροσι γενέσθαι, ὑμῖν μεγάλη ἡ δόξα, καὶ οἷς ἂν ἐπ’ ἄρσεσι κλέος ᾖ. Thucyd. ii. 45. Besides leading a retired life, ladies were likewise expected to cultivate the virtue of silence. Soph. Ajax, 293. Hom. Il. ζ. 410.

[114]. Which, according to Plato, well-educated men generally are. De Repub. t. vi. p. 173.

[115]. Plat. De Repub. viii. 5. t. ii. p. 182. Stallb.

[116]. Mitford, Hist, of Greece, iii. 4. sqq. It appears not to have been common for these women to rear the children they bore, more particularly when they were girls. They flew to the practice of infanticide that they might remain at liberty. Lucian, Hetair. Diall. ii. 5. iv. 124.

[117]. Besides, from a passage in Lucian it appears that the ladies and the hetairæ frequented together the public baths.—Diall. Hetair. xii. 4.

[118]. Cf. Antiphon. Nec. Venef. § 5.

[119]. Vice is generally superstitious; and these ladies accordingly when they lost a lover, instead of attributing it to the superior beauty or accomplishments of their rivals, or the common love of novelty of mankind, always supposed that enchantments had been employed.—Luc. Diall. Hetair. i. t. iv. 124.

[120]. Statues, for example, were sometimes erected in their honour—Winkelm. iv. 3. 7. They were generally well educated, and there were none probably who could not read.—Drosè, in Lucian, complaining of the philosopher who kept away her lover, observes that his slave came in the evening bearing a note from his young master.—Diall. Hetair. x. 2. 3.

[121]. Athen. xiii. 43. where the word is κύβδα.—The Turkish practice of drowning female delinquents in sacks, is merely an imitation of what was performed by a tyrant of old, who disposed of wicked old women in this manner.—Idem. x. 60. In France likewise formerly it was customary to avoid the scandal of a public trial, for noblemen and gentlemen to be examined privately by the king who, when he could satisfy his conscience that they were guilty, ordered them to be “without any fashion of judgment put in a sack and in the night season, by the Marshall’s servants, hurled into a river and so drowned.” Fortescue, Laud, Legg. Angl. chap. 35. p. 82. b.

[122]. Athen. xiii. 47.

[123]. Athen. xiii. 50.

[124]. Athen. xiii. 56.—Diog. Laert. v. 12.

[125]. Diog. Laert. iii. 31.

[126]. She was a native of Hyccara, but taken prisoner in childhood, and carried to Corinth, whence that city has generally the honor of being regarded as her birthplace.—Athen. xiii. 54.—Cf. Thucyd. vi. 62. Sch. Aristoph. Lysist. 179.

[127]. Of the younger Aspasia, who had the reputation of being the loveliest woman of her time, we have the following sketch in Ælian:—“Her hair was auburn, and fell in slightly waving ringlets. She had large full eyes, a nose inclined to aquiline, (ἐπίγρυπος) and small delicate ears. Nothing could be softer than her skin, and her complexion was fresh as the rose; on which account the Phoceans called her Milto, or ‘the Blooming’. Her ruddy lips, opening, disclosed teeth whiter than snow. She, moreover, possessed the charm on which Homer so often dwells in his descriptions of beautiful women, of small, well-formed ankles. Her voice was so full of music and sweetness, that those to whom she spoke imagined they heard the songs of the Seirens. To crown all she was like Horace’s Pyrrha, simplex munditiis, abhorring superfluous pomp of ornament.”—Hist. Var. xii. 1. Some persons, however, would not have admired the nose of Milto:—thus, the youth in Terence (Heauton, v. 5. 17. seq.) “What? must I marry”

“Rufamne illam virginem

Cæsiam, sparso ore, adunco naso?

Non possum, pater.”

Aristotle (Rhet. i. 2) does not undervalue the slightly aquiline nose; and Plato appears rather to have admired it in men.—Repub. v. § 19. t. i. p. 392.—Stallb. where the philosopher calls it the Royal Nose.

[128]. Poseidip. ap. Athen. xiii. 60.

[129]. Honest old Burton, whom few anecdotes of this description escaped, imagines this artifice to have been the only defence he made.—Anatomy of Melancholy, ii. 222.

[130]. Athen. xiii. 59. seq.

[131]. Athen. xiii. 59.—In the apprehension of Lucian, too, they were anything but mercenary; and stripped themselves cheerfully of all their personal ornaments to bestow them, like so many sisters, on the person they loved.—Diall. Hetair. vii. 1.

[132]. Athen. xiii. 64.

[133]. Plut. Alcib. § 39.


CHAPTER VI.
TOILETTE, DRESS, AND ORNAMENTS.

Having now described the condition and influence of women, it will be necessary to institute some inquiry into one of the principal means by which they achieved and maintained their empire. At first sight, perhaps, the disquisition may appear scarcely to deserve all the pains I have bestowed upon it; but, as the dress of the ancients is connected on the one hand with the progress of the useful arts, as spinning, weaving, dyeing, &c., and on the other with the forms and developement of sculpture, it can scarcely, when well considered, be reckoned among matters of trifling moment. Besides, the costume and ornaments of a people often afford important aid towards comprehending the national character, constituting, in fact, a sort of practical commentary on the mental habits, and tone and principles of morals, prevailing at any given period among them.

The raiment of the Grecian women, of which the public generally obtain some idea from the remaining monuments of ancient art, may be said to have been regulated by the same laws of taste which presided over the developement of the national genius in sculpture and painting. Every article of their habiliment appeared to harmonise exactly with the rest. Nothing of that grotesque extravagance which in some of the fleeting vagaries of fashion transforms our modern ladies, with their inflated balloon sleeves and painfully deformed waists, into so many whalebone and muslin hobgoblins, was ever allowed to disfigure the rich contour of a Greek woman. As she proceeded lovely from the hands of nature, her pride was to preserve that loveliness. Her garments, accordingly, were not fashioned with a view to disguise or conceal her form, but by graceful folds, flowing curves, ornaments rich and tastefully disposed, to afford as many indications of its matchless symmetry and perfection as might be compatible with her sex’s delicacy and the severity of public morals. Consequently the art of dress, like every other conversant with taste and beauty, reached in Greece its highest perfection. A woman draped according to the prevalent fashion in the best ages of the Athenian commonwealth, was an object not to be equalled for elegance or grace. From the snow white veil which probably shaded her countenance and ringlets of auburn or hyacinth, to the sandals of white satin and gold that ornamented her small ankle, the eye could detect nothing gaudy, affected, or out of keeping. There was magnificence without ostentation, brilliance of colours, but a brilliance that harmonised with whatever was brought in contact with it; the splendour of numerous jewels and trinkets of gold, but no appearance of display, or of a wish to dazzle. Everything appeared to stand where it did, because it was its proper place.

But in Sparta where there existed little tendency towards art or refinement,[[134]] a costume the antipodes of all this prevailed. That of the virgins differed in some respects from that of the matrons, and the difference arose out of a peculiar feature of manners, in which, if in nothing else, they resembled the English. In several Ionic countries, as at present on the continent, girls were previously to marriage guarded with much strictness. At Sparta, on the contrary, and among the Dorians generally,[[135]] they were permitted, as in England, to walk abroad in company with young men, and, of course, to form attachments at their own discretion. In this, too, as in their dress, they only preserved the customs of antiquity; for in Homer we find the Trojan ladies making anxious inquiries of Hector respecting their relations and friends in the field, and going forth from their houses attended only by their maids. The married women led more retired lives, and when they went abroad fashion required that they should be veiled, as we learn from the following apophthegm of Charillos, who being asked why the maidens went abroad uncovered while the matrons concealed their faces, replied: “Because it is incumbent on the former to find themselves husbands, on the latter only to keep those they have.”[[136]]

The principal, or, rather, the sole garment of the Dorian maidens was the chiton, or himation,[[137]] made of woollen stuff, and without sleeves, but fastened on either shoulder by a large clasp, and gathered on the breast by a kind of brooch. This sleeveless robe, which seldom reached more than half way to the knee, was moreover left open up to a certain point on both sides,[[138]] so that the skirts or wings, flying open as they walked, entirely exposed their limbs, closely resembling the shift of the Bedouin women,[[139]] slit up to the arm-pit, but gathered tight by a girdle about the waist. When the girdle was removed it reached to the calves of the legs,[[140]] and would then, but for the side-slits, have been quite as becoming as the blue chemise of the modern Egyptian women, which is open in front from the neck to the waist.[[141]] When dressed in this single robe, their whole form breathing health, and modesty in their countenance, there was no doubt a simple elegance in their appearance, little less attractive, perhaps, than the exquisite and elaborate mise of an Ionian or an Attic girl. In this costume Melissa, daughter of Procles, of Epidaurus, was habited when, as she poured out wine to her father’s labourers, Periander, the Corinthian,[[142]] beheld and loved her. The married women, however, did not make their appearance in public en chemise, but when going abroad donned a second garment which seems to have resembled pretty closely their husbands’ himatia.[[143]]

Of the simple wardrobe of a Doric lady, which in ancient times was that of all women of Hellenic race, exceedingly little can be said. It is altogether different with respect to that of the gentlewomen of Attica, where, though inferior in personal beauty to none, the women exhibited so much fertility in the matter of dress, that they appeared to depend on that alone for the establishment of their empire. For this reason it would be vain to pretend to describe all their vestments and ornaments, or the arts of the toilette by which they were adapted to their purposes. To do so properly would, in fact, require a volume. But all that can be crowded into one short chapter shall be given, since I am not deterred by any such scruples as formerly arrested the pen of a very learned writer, who apprehended that, if he proceeded, he might be supposed to have been rummaging the boudoir notes of an Athenian lady![[144]]

The primary garment,[[145]] answering to the chemise of the moderns, was a white tunic reaching to the ground,[[146]] in some instances sleeveless, and fastened on the shoulders with buttons, in others furnished with loose hanging sleeves descending to the wrist, and brought together at intervals upon the arm by silver or golden agraffes.[[147]] It was gathered into close folds under the bosom by a girdle,[[148]] or riband, sometimes fastened in front by a knot, sometimes by a clasp.[[149]] This inner robe, made in the earlier ages of fine linen,[[150]] manufactured in Attica, or imported from Tyre, Egypt, or Sidon, came, in after times, to be of muslin from Tarentum, or woven at home from Egyptian cotton. The use of linen, however, for this purpose was not wholly superseded. A very beautiful kind, from the island of Amorgos,[[151]] one of the Cyclades, was often substituted down to a very late period in place of the byssos, or fine muslin of Egypt; and this insular fabric,[[152]] whether snow-white or purple, would have rivalled the finest cambric, being of the most delicate texture and semi-transparent,[[153]] like the Tarentine and Coan vests of the Roman ladies, the sandyx-coloured Lydian robe, or the silken chemises of the Turkish sultanas, described by Lady Montague.[[154]] It is in a tunic of this linen that Lysistrata, in Aristophanes, advises the Athenian ladies to appear before their husbands in order to give full effect to the splendour of their charms.[[155]]

Because the Amorginean linen was often, perhaps commonly, dyed purple, it has been inferred, that none purely white was produced; but this, as Bochart[[156]] observes, is, probably, a mistake. At all events, it was of extraordinary fineness, superior, in the opinion of Suidas,[[157]] even to the byssos and carbasos, or lawn of Cyprus, and appears to have been of a thin, gauze-like texture, like the drapery of “woven air” which Petronius[[158]] throws around his female characters.

Over the chiton was worn a shorter robe not reaching below the knee, and confined above the loins by a broad riband. This also was, in some instances, furnished with sleeves, and of a rich purple or saffron colour, generally ornamented, like the chiton, with a broad border of variegated embroidery. To these, in order to complete the walking-dress, was added a magnificent mantle, generally purple, embroidered with gold, which, being thrown negligently over the shoulders,[[159]] floated airily about the person, discovering the under garments exquisitely disposed for the purpose of displaying all the contours of the form, particularly of the waist and bosom. The Athenian ladies being, like our own, peculiarly jealous of possessing the reputation of a fine figure, and nature sometimes failing them, had recourse to art, and wore what, among milliners, I believe, are called bustles.[[160]] I am sorry to be obliged to add, that there were, also, mothers at Athens who anticipated us in the absurdity of tight lacing, and invented corsets for the purpose of compressing the abdomen and otherwise reducing the figures of their daughters to some artificial standard which they had already begun to set up in defiance of nature.[[161]] Some women, too, when apprehensive of growing fat, would collect on fine wool a quantity of summer dew, which they afterwards squeezed out and drank, this liquid having been supposed to be possessed of deleterious qualities, more particularly the ascending dew.[[162]]

Like the eastern ladies of the present day, they seldom went abroad without their veil, which was a light fabric of transparent texture, white or purple, from Cos, or Laconia. It was thrown tastefully over the head, raised in front on the point of the sphendone,[[163]] as in modern Italy by the comb, and hung waving on the shoulders and down the back in glittering folds. But this was not the only covering they made use of for their head. Those modern writers who have so thought are mistaken, since it is clear, both from contemporary testimony and numerous works of art still remaining, that very frequently they wore caps or bonnets. Several examples occur in Mr. Hope’s work, on the Costumes of the Ancients;[[164]] and Mnesilochos, in Aristophanes, when putting on the disguise of a woman for the purpose of being present at the Festival of Demeter, like Clodius at that of the Bona Dea, desires to borrow from Agathon a net or mitre for the head. “Will you have my night-cap?” inquires the poet. “Exactly,” replies Euripides, “that is just what we want.”[[165]]

But we have hitherto scarcely entered upon the list of their wardrobe, in enumerating some of the articles of which, I must crave the reader’s permission to employ the original terms, our language, in most cases, furnishing us with no equivalent. And, first, following the order of Pollux, who observes no principle of classification, we have the Epomis, a robe with sleeves, opposed to the Exomis, which had none. The Diploïdion, an ample cloak, or mantle, capacious enough to be worn double. The Hemidiploïdion, a more scanty mantle; the Katastiktos, adorned with flowers or figures of animals, or richly marked with spots, the Katagogis, the Epiblema, or cloak, and the Peplos,[[166]] a word of very equivocal character, used to signify a veil or mantle, a sofa-carpet, or a covering for a chariot. Generally, it seems to have designated a garment of double the necessary size, that, at pleasure, it might be put on, or cast, like a cloak, over the whole body, as appears from the Peplos of Athena.[[167]] That the word sometimes was used to signify a tunic appears from Xenophon, who says “the peplos being rent above, the bosom appeared.”[[168]] He, however, considers it to have formed part of the male costume.

Another article of female dress was the Zoma, a short vest fitting close to the shape, and adorned at the bottom with fringe, as appears from a fragment of Æschylus in the Onomasticon. A character of Menander, too, exclaims,—“Don’t you perceive the nurse habited in her Zoma?”—for, adds Pollux, it was generally worn by old women. An elegant woollen dress, called Parapechu, white, but with purple sleeves, was imported from Corinth, and would appear to have been much worn by the Hetairæ.[[169]] Other garments seem to have been affected by the middle class of citizens, who, being unable to dress in purple,[[170]] the distinguishing colour of the wealthy and the noble, brought into fashion the Paruphes and Paralourges, robes adorned on either side with a purple stripe. As much dignity is supposed to belong to ample drapery, our citizen ladies took care not to be sparing of stuff, their dresses trailing to the ground, and displaying numerous folds, produced purposely at the extremity by a band passing round the edge. These garments were generally of linen; but when a lady, in Homer, is said to be wrapped in her shining mantle, the poet[[171]] is supposed to intend a fine, light, woollen cloak, like the white burnooses of the Tunisian and Egyptian ladies.[[172]]

Several sorts of dresses obtained their appellation from their colours; as the Crocotos, a saffron robe of ceremony, the Crocotion, a diminutive of the same; the Omphakinon, of the colour of unripe grapes, which, though prescriptively appropriated to women, was much affected by Alexander the Great. Modern ladies have delighted in flea-coloured dresses, and, in like manner, the ancients had theirs of asinine hue, called Killios, from a Doric name for the ass, and afterwards Onagrinos,[[173]] which, if they really resembled the wild ass in hue, must have been exceedingly beautiful. There was a scarlet robe, with the appellation of Coccobaphes, the Sisys, a thick heavy cloak, likewise called Hyphandron Himation, resembling the Amphimallos, which had a double warp, and was hairy on both sides.[[174]]

Not to extend this list of dresses beyond the patience of a milliner, we will now pass on to the principal ornaments for the head,[[175]] in which the Greek ladies evinced extraordinary taste and invention.[[176]] Among these one of the most elegant was the Ampyx, a fillet by which they confined their hair in front. It sometimes consisted of a piece of gold embroidery, the place of which was often supplied by a thin plate of pure gold, studded with jewels. Another Homeric ornament, the Kekruphalos,[[177]] can only be alluded to as a critical puzzle which has baffled all the commentators, in which predicament the Plekte anadesme[[178]] also stands; all that we know being, that it found its place in the female head-dress, though whether as a mitre or a diadem Apollonios is unable to determine. It may possibly have been, under another appellation, that graceful wreath or garland, consisting of fragrant flowers interwoven or bound together by their stems, described among female ornaments by Pollux.[[179]]

Another article of the same ambiguous character was the Pylæon, supposed to have derived its name from φύλον, a leaf. Athenæus,[[180]] on a subject of this kind, perhaps, one of the best authorities, describes it as the crown which, during certain festivals, the Spartans placed upon the head of Hera. Doubtless, however, the most tasteful and elegant of this class of female ornaments was the Kalyx, a golden syrinx or reed, passed like a ring over each several tress to keep it separate.[[181]] Eustathius describes it as a ring resembling a full-blown, but not expanded, rose; and this explanation will not be inconsistent with that of Hesychius, if we suppose the golden tubes to have terminated in the form of that flower. The Strophion was a band or fillet[[182]] with which women confined their hair, as we discover from many ancient statues. Parrhasios the artist, who used to bind his luxuriant locks with a white strophion, was therefore accused of effeminacy.[[183]] The name, however, appears to have been applied to any kind of band, even to the broad belt worn to support the bosom: “My strophion being untied the walnuts fell out,” says the girl in Aristophanes.[[184]] There was also an ornament of the same name worn by priests.[[185]]

The Opisthosphendone,[[186]] one of the female ornaments enumerated in a fragment of Aristophanes, was worn only on the stage. Its proper name sphendone it derived from its resemblance to a sling, being broad and elevated in front,[[187]] and terminating in narrow points at the back of the head where it was tied. On the comic stage it was sometimes worn for sport with the fore part behind.[[188]] The Anadesma[[189]] was a gilded fillet or diadem of gold, used like the strophion for encircling the forehead. What was the precise use or form of the Xanion, another golden ornament fashionable in remote antiquity, could not be ascertained in the age of Pollux, who says that many writers supposed it to have been a comb.[comb.] Of this number are Hesychius, Suidas,[[190]] and Phavorinus. But a learned modern conjectures with more probability, that it was some talismanic idol worn as a spell against the evil eye.[[191]] In fact it is expressly observed in the Etymologicon Magnum,[[192]] that the Hellenic women reckoned it among their phylacteries.

Of the ear-rings worn by Grecian women the variety was very great. The most ancient kind were called Hermata, of which mention occurs both in the Iliad and the Odyssey.[[193]] They were usually adorned with three emerald drops,[[194]] for which reason they were by the Athenians denominated Triopia or Triopides,[[195]] and by the other Greeks Triopthalma or “the triple eye.” By this word, as an ancient grammarian informs us, some understood an animal like the beetle, supposed to have three eyes, whence a necklace with three hyaline or crystal eyes, depending from it in front, was likewise called by the same name. Pollux[[196]] supposed the earrings of Hera to have been adorned with three diminutive figures in precious stones, or gold, probably of goddesses. The Diopos seems to have been an earring with two drops. The Helix appears in Homer[[197]] rather to mean an earring than an armlet, and to have received its name from its circular shape or curvature; but the spiral gold rings round the walking-stick of Parrhasios are also called Helices by Athenæus.[[198]] Another name for this sort of earring was Heliktes.[[199]] In the Æolic dialect earrings were called Siglai, in the Doric Artiala. A particular kind denominated Enclastridia and Strobelia, by the comic poets, had gold drops in the form of a pine cone.[[200]] Two very curious kinds of earrings were the Caryatides, and the Hippocampia, the former representing in miniature the architectural figures, so called, the latter little horses with tails ending in a fish. There were earrings, likewise, with drops in the forms of centaurs and other fantastic creations.[[201]]

The names and figures of necklaces were scarcely less numerous.[[202]] A jewelled collar fitting tight to the throat formed, under the name of Peritrachelion, the principal of these ornaments, of which another was the Perideraion.[[203]] The Hypoderaion was as its name imports a necklace that hung low on the bosom, and the same was the case with the Hormos.[[204]] On the Tantheuristos Hormos little information can be obtained, for which reason the commentators would alter the text; but the most probable conjecture is, that it obtained its appellation from the flashing and glancing of the jewels depending from it upon the breast.[[205]] The Triopis was a species of necklace distinguished for having three stars or eye-like gems depending from it as drops. This being the most fashionable necklace was known under a variety of names, as the Kathema, and Katheter, and Mannos or Monnos, among the Dorians.[[206]]

Of armlets and bracelets there was likewise a great variety. Some worn above the elbow were denominated Brachionia, others called Pericarpia, or Echinoi encircled the wrists and were often in the form of twisted snakes of gold, which the woman-hater in Lucian would have converted into real serpents.[[207]] The Psellia or chain bracelets were much worn; the Clidones adorned the rich and luxurious only. As stockings were not in common use, and shoes and sandals frequently dispensed with when within doors, fashion required that the feet and ankles should not remain unadorned. Ancient writers, accordingly, enumerate several kinds of anklets, or bangles, all of gold, and varying only in form, the distinction between which I have been unable to discover. The Ægle,[Ægle,] the Pede and the Periscelides were so many ornaments for the instep or ankle.[[208]]

Among the ornaments for the bosom we find the Ægis, evidently like the ægis of Athena, a sort of rich covering with two hemispherical caps to receive the breasts, such as we find worn by the Bayadères of the Dekkan. Extending from this on either side, or passing over its lower edge was the Maschalister, a broad belt which covered the armpits, though in Herodotus the word merely signifies a sword-belt.[[209]]

Like all other delicate and luxurious women, the Grecian ladies displayed upon their fingers a profusion of rings, of which some were set with signets, others with jewels remarkable for their colour and brilliance. To each of these their copious language supplied a distinct name.[[210]] Other female ornaments are spoken of by the comic poets; but in their descriptions it is difficult to distinguish satire from information. Among these were the Leroi, golden drops attached to the tunic; the Ochthoiboi, which seem to have been a sort of rich tassels; the Helleboroi, ornaments shaped perhaps like the leaves or flowers of that plant; and the Pompholuges, which, though left unexplained by the commentators, probably signified a large clear kind of bead, as the word originally meant a “water-bubble,” which a transparent bead resembles.[[211]]

The Athenian ladies, likewise, displayed their taste for luxury and splendour in their shoes and sandals.[[212]] Like our own fashionable dames, they seldom contented themselves with articles of home manufacture, but imported whatever was considered most elegant or tasteful from the neighbouring countries. Sometimes, perhaps, the fashion only and the name were imported, as in the case of the Persian half-boot, fitting tight to the ankle.[[213]] The same thing may probably be said of the Sicyonian slipper. But there was an elegant sandal, ornamented with gold, which, down to a very late period, continued to be imported from Patara, in Lycia.[Lycia.][[214]] Snow-white slippers of fine linen, flowered with needlework, were occasionally worn; and from many ancient statues it would seem, that something very like stockings had been already introduced. Short women, desirous of adding, if not a cubit, at least a few inches to their stature, adopted the use of baukides with high cork heels, and soles of great thickness.[[215]]

An Athenian beauty usually spent the whole morning in the important business of the toilette.[[216]] The crowd of maids who attended on these occasions appears to have exceeded in number the assistants at similar rites in a modern dressing-room, the principle of the division of labour having been pushed to its greatest extent. Like Hera, who was said by mythologists to renew her virgin charms as often as she bathed in the fountain of Canathos,[[217]] the Attic lady appeared to undergo diurnal rejuvenescence under the hands of her maids.[[218]] Her lovely face grew tenfold more lovely by their arts. Clustering in interesting groups around her, some held the silver basin and ewer, others the boxes of tooth-powder, or black paint for the eyebrows, the rouge pots or the blanching varnish, the essence-bottles or the powder for the head, the jewel-cases or the mirrors.[[219]] But on nothing was so much care bestowed as on the hair.[[220]] Auburn, the colour of Aphrodite’s tresses[[221]] in Homer, being considered most beautiful,[[222]] drugs were invented in which the hair being dipped, and exposed to the noon-day sun, it acquired the coveted hue, and fell in golden curls over their shoulders.[[223]] Others, contented with their own black hair, exhausted their ingenuity in augmenting its rich gloss, steeping it in oils and essences, till all the fragrance of Arabia seemed to breathe around them. Those waving ringlets which we admire in their sculpture were often the creation of art, being produced by curling-irons heated in ashes;[[224]] after which, by the aid of jewelled fillets and golden pins, they were brought forward over the smooth white forehead,[[225]] which they sometimes shaded to the eyebrows, leaving a small ivory space in the centre, while behind they floated in shining profusion down the back. When decked in this manner, and dressed for the harem[[226]] in their light flowered sandals and semi-transparent robes already described, they were scarcely farther removed from the state of nature than the Spartan maids themselves.

Contrary to the fashion prevalent in modern times the bosom, however, was always closely covered, because being extremely full shaped it began very early to lose its firmness and beauty.[[227]] Earrings, set with Red-Sea pearls of great price, depended from their ears, and an orbicular crown studded with Indian jewels surmounted and contrasted strikingly with their dark locks. Add to these the jewelled throat bands, and costly and glittering necklaces. Their cheeks though sometimes pale by nature, blushed with rouge,[[228]] and they even possessed the art to superinduce over this artificial complexion that peach-like purple bloom which belongs to the very earliest, dewiest dawn of beauty. To the tint of the rose they could likewise add that of the lily. White paint was in common use,[[229]] not merely among unmarried women, and ladies of equivocal reputation, but with matrons the chastest and most prudent in Athens, for we find that pattern of an Attic gentlewoman, the wife of Ischomachos, practising after marriage every delusive art of the toilette.[[230]]

It by no means follows that all this attention[[231]] to dress had any other object than to please their husbands; for the Turkish Sultanas who pass their lives in the most rigid seclusion are no less sumptuous in their apparel; but we know that at Athens, as in London, much of this care was designed to excite admiration out of doors. For it is highly erroneous to transfer to Athens the ideas of female seclusion acquired from travellers in the East, where no such rigid seclusion was ever known. Husbands, indeed, who had cause, or supposed they had, to be jealous, might be put on the rack by beholding the crowds of admirers who flocked around their wives the moment they issued into the streets. But there was no remedy. The laws and customs of the country often forced the women abroad to assist at processions and perform their devotions at the shrines of various goddesses.[[232]]

The dress of men included many of the garments worn by women; for example, the chiton of which there were several kinds, some with and some without sleeves. Among the latter was the Exomis,[[233]] a short tunic worn by aged men and slaves, but the name was sometimes applied to a garment thrown loosely round the body, and to the chiton with one sleeve.[[234]] Over this in Homeric times was worn as a defence against the cold, the Chlaina[[235]] a cloak strongly resembling a highlander’s tartan, or the burnoose of the Bedouin Arab. It was, in fact, a square piece of cloth, occasionally with the corners rounded off, which, passing over the left shoulder, and under the right arm, was again thrown over the left shoulder, leaving the spear arm free.[[236]] This is what the poet means where he terms the Chlaina double. It was wrapped twice round the breast, and fastened over the left shoulder by a brooch.[[237]] Even this, however, was not deemed sufficient in very cold weather, and a cloak of skins sown together with thongs was wrapped about the body as a defence against the rain or snow. Some persons appear to have worn skin-cloaks all the year round, for we find Anaxagoras, in the midst of summer at Olympia, putting on his when he foresaw there would be rain.[[238]] Rustics also appear to have considered a tunic and skin-cloak necessary to complete their costume.[[239]]

The Dorian style of dress formed the point of transition from the simple elegance of the Homeric period to the elaborate splendour of the historic age at Athens. In this mode of clothing, a modern author remarks, a peculiar taste was displayed, an antique simplicity “equally removed from the splendour of Asiatics, and the uncleanliness of barbarians.”[[240]] They preserved the use of the Homeric chiton, or woollen shirt, and over this wore also the Chlaina or Himation, in the manner described above. To these was added the Chlamys, which, as the Spartan laws prohibited dyeing, was universally white, and denominated Hololeukos.[[241]]

It was of Thessalian or Macedonian origin, of an oblong form, the points meeting on the right shoulder, where they were fastened with a clasp. This garment was not in use in the heroic ages, and the earliest mention of it occurs in Sappho;[[242]] but when once introduced, it quickly grew fashionable, at first among the young men, afterwards as a military cloak. At Athens it was regarded as a mark of effeminacy, and was fastened with a gold or jewelled brooch on the breast.[[243]]

The men of Sparta, though less thinly clad than the women, still went abroad very scantily covered. Their Tribon, a variety of the himation,[[244]] like the cloak of the poor Spanish gentleman, was clipped so close that it would barely enclose their persons, like a case, but was thick and heavy, and calculated to last. Accordingly, the youth were allowed only one of these per annum, so that, in warm weather, it is probable that, with an eye to saving it for winter, they exchanged it for that more lasting coat with which nature had furnished them.[[245]] In the towns, however, and as often as they thought proper to put on the appearance of extreme modesty, the young Spartans drew close their cloaks around them so as to conceal their hands,[[246]] the exhibiting of which has always been regarded as a mark of vulgarity. Hence the use of gloves, and the affectation of soft white hands in modern times. The same notions prevail even among the Turks, who, like Laertes in Homer, wear long sleeves to their pelisses for the purpose of defending the hand, to have which white and well-shaped is among them a mark of noble blood.

The Spartans had the good taste to suffer their beards and hair to grow long, and were at much pains to render them glossy and shining. Even in the field, contrary to the practice at Athens, they preserved this natural ornament of their heads, and we find them busy in combing and putting it in order on the very eve of battle.[[247]] It was usually parted at the top, and was, in fact, the most becoming covering imaginable. But they set little value on cleanliness, and bathed and perfumed themselves seldom, being evidently of opinion,[[248]] that a brave man ought not to be too spruce. However, having no object to gain by aping the exterior of mendicants, they eschewed the wearing of ragged cloaks, which, indeed, was forbidden by law.

But the Athenians ran into the opposite extreme.[extreme.] Wealthy, and fond of show, they delighted in a style of dress in the highest degree curious and magnificent, appearing abroad in flowing robes of the finest linen, dyed with purple and other brilliant colours.[[249]] Beneath these they wore tunics of various kinds, which, though the fashion afterwards changed, were at first sleeveless, since we find the women, in Aristophanes, suffering the hair to grow under their arm-pits to avoid being discovered when, disguised as their husbands, they should hold up their hands to vote in the assembly.[[250]]

Like the women, they affected much variety and splendour in their rings, which were sometimes set with a stone with the portrait engraved thereon of some friend or benefactor, as Athenion wore on one of his the portrait of Mithridates.[[251]]

In his girdle and shoes,[[252]] too, the Athenian betrayed his love of splendour. The hair worn long like that of the ladies,[[253]] was curled or braided and built up in glossy masses on the crown of the head, or arranged artfully along the forehead by golden grasshoppers.[[254]] But as all this pile of ringlets could not be thrust into the helmet, it was customary in time of war to cut the hair short, which the fashionable young men reckoned among its most serious hardships. Hats[[255]] were not habitually worn, though on journeys or promenades undertaken during hot weather they formed a necessary part of the costume. Above all things the Athenian citizen affected extreme cleanliness and neatness in his person, and the same taste descended even to the slaves who in the streets could scarcely be distinguished by dress, hair, or ornaments, from their masters.[[256]]

Even the philosophers, after holding out a long time, yielded to the influence of fashion, and, lest their profession should suffer, became exquisites in its defence. Your truly wise man, says an unexceptionable witness in a matter of this kind, has his hair closely shaved, (this was an eastern innovation,) but suffers his magnificent beard to fall in wavy curls over his breast. His shoes, fitting tight as wax, are supported by a net-work of thongs, disposed at equal distances up the small of the leg. A chlamys puffed out effeminately at the breast conceals his figure, and like a foreigner he leans contemplatively upon his staff.[[257]]

But the art of dress appears to have received its greatest improvements in Ionia, where, according to Democritos, the Ephesian, both the garments, at one time in fashion, and the stuffs of which they consisted, were varied with a skill and fertility of invention worthy of a polished people. Some persons, he says, appeared in robes of a violet, others of a purple, others of a saffron colour, sprinkled with dusky lozenges. As at Athens, much attention was bestowed on the hair, which they adorned with small ornamental figures. Their vests were yellow, like a ripe quince, or purple, or crimson, or pure white. Even their tunics, imported from Corinth, were of the finest texture, and of the richest dyes, hyacinthine or violet, flame-coloured or deep sea-green. Others adopted the Persian calasiris,[[258]] of all tunics the most superb, and there were those among the opulent who even affected the Persian actœa, a shawl-mantle of the costliest and most gorgeous appearance. It was formed of a close-woven, but light stuff, bedropped with golden beads in the form of millet-seed, which were connected with the tissue by slender eyes passing through the stuff and fastened by a purple thread.[[259]]

Duris, on the authority of the poet Asios, draws a scarcely less extravagant picture of the luxury and magnificence of the Samians, who, on certain festivals, appeared in public adorned, like women, with glittering bracelets, their hair floating on their shoulders, skilfully braided into tresses. The words of Asios preserved in the Deipnosophist are as follow: “Thus proceed they to the fane of Hera, clothed in magnificent robes, with snowy pelisses, trailing behind them on the ground. Glistening ornaments of gold, like grasshoppers, surmount the crown of their heads, while their luxuriant tresses float behind in the wind, intermingled with golden chains. Bracelets of variegated workmanship adorn their arms, as the warrior is adorned by his shield thongs.”[[260]] This excess of effeminate luxury, attended as everywhere else by enervating vices, terminated in the ruin of Samos. Similar manners in the Colophonians drew upon them a similar fate, and so in every other Grecian community; for men never learn wisdom by the example of others, but hurry on in the career of indulgence as if in the hope that Providence might overlook them, or set aside, in their favour, its eternal laws.


[134]. Cf. Montaigne, Essais, t. iv. p. 214, seq.

[135]. See above, chapter ii.

[136]. Plut. Apophtheg. Lacon. Charill. 2. t. i. p. 161.

[137]. Herod. v. 87. Duris. ap. Schol. Eurip. Hecub. 922. Æl. Dionys. ap. Eustath. ad Il. p. 963. 17. ed. Basil. Æl. Var. Hist. i. 18. Cf. Spanh. Observ. in Hymn. in Apoll. 32. t. ii. p. 63. Schol. Pind. Nem. i. 74.

[138]. Poll. vii. 54. seq. Mus. Chiaramont. pl. 35. Antich. di Ercol. t. iv. tav. 24.

[139]. Castellan, Mœurs des Ottomans, vi. 47.

[140]. Schol. Eurip. Hecub. 922.

[141]. Suidas, however, supposes these garments to have been less becoming when the girdle was removed, and adds ἐν Σπαρτῇ δὲ καὶ τάς κόρας γυμνὰς φαίνεσθαι.—v. δωριάζειν. t. i. p. 772. Montaigne observes, that the ancient Gauls made little use of clothing; and that the same thing might be said of the Irish of his time, t. iv. p. 214.—The French ladies, also, of his own day, affected a costume in no respect less indelicate than that of the Spartan girls: “nos dames, ainsi molles et delicates qu’elles sont, elles s’en vont tantôt entre ouvertes jusques au nombril.”—Essais, II. xii. t. iv. p. 213.

[142]. Athen. xiii. 56.

[143]. Cf. Il. ε. 425.—In the life of Pyrrhus, the difference between the dress of married women and that of the virgins is distinctly pointed out:—ἀρχομένοις δὲ ταῦτα πράττειν, ἧκον αὐτοις τῶν παρθενῶν καὶ γυναικῶν, αἱ μὲν ἐν ἱματίοις, καταζωσάμεναι τοὺς χιτωνίσκους, αἱ δὲ μονοχίτωνες, συναργασόμεναι τοῖς πρεσβυτέροις. Plut. Pyrrh. § 27.

[144]. Taylor ad Demosth.

[145]. Athen. xii. 5. 29. Boeckh. i. 141. Aristoph. Lysist. 43. sqq.

[146]. Ἐκ δὲ λίνου, λινοῦς χιτὼν, ὃν Ἀθηναῖοι ἔφορουν ποδήρη.—Poll. vii. 71.

[147]. Ælian. V. H. i. 8.

[148]. On the ζῶνη, Cf. Il. ξ. 181. Odyss. τ. 231. Damm. 988. On the Cestus Il. ξ. 214. Aristoph. Lysist. 72. βαθυχζώνοι. Æschyl. Pers. 155. et Schol.—Bœttig. Les Furies, p. 34.

[149]. Achilles Tatius. ii. cap. xi. p. 33, seq. Jacobs.

[150]. Thucyd. i. 6.

[151]. Aristoph. Lysist. 150. 735, et Schol.

[152]. Poll. vii. 75.

[153]. Aristoph. Lysist. 48. Poll. vii. 57. 74.

[154]. Works, ii. 191.

[155]. Aristoph. Lysist. 48.

[156]. Chanaan. I. 14. p. 449.

[157]. Corrected by Bochart, who reads ἔστι δὲ σφόδρα λεπτὸν ὑπὲρ τὴν βύσσον ἢ τὴν κάρπασον. Cf. Suid. v. Ἀμοργ. t. i. p. 204. c. Etym. Mag. 85. 15.

[158]. Satyricon. cap. 55. p. 273. Burmann.

[159]. We find, from ancient monuments, that persons likewise wore over their shoulders an article of dress exactly resembling the modern cape or tippet.—Mus. Cortonens. tab. 58.

[160]. Athen. xiii. 23. Alex. Frag. v. 13, seq.

[161]. Victor. Var. Lect. ii. 6. 32.

[162]. Plut. Quæst. Nat. § 6. t. v. p. 321.—Coray sur Hippocrate, t. II. p. 82, seq.

[163]. See an exact representation of it in the Mus. Chiaramont. pl. 8, where we likewise find an example of the sleeves closed with agraffes.—Cf. pl. 16.

[164]. Plates. Nos. 98. 108. 131. 162. 172.

[165]. Aristoph. Thesmoph. 256.

[166]. Poll. vii. 49, seq.—The peploma of Pindar (Pyth. ix. 219) is now paploma. Wordsworth, Athens and Attica, p. 32. Cf. Iliad. ε. 315.—The peplos was sometimes embroidered with figures.—Il. ζ. 289–295.

[167]. Sch. Aristoph. Eq. 564. Poll. vii. 50.

[168]. Poll. vii. 50. Cf. Cyrop. iii. 1. 13.-3. 67. In Homer, Iliad, γ. 385, &c. the word, ἑανὸς, signifying a richly-wrought vest or robe, is synonymous, as Pollux remarks, with πέπλος vii. 51. This is, likewise, the opinion of Buttmann, who, however, supposes it to mean a “flexibly soft garment.”—Lexil. Art. 41. Others draw a distinction between ἑανὸς and πέπλος, the former, they say, being employed to signify a veil unwrought and purely white, the latter, one which was variegated with colours and embroidery. Passow considers it to be a mere adjective signifying “clear, light,” and says, that εἷμα or ἱμάτιον is always understood with it.

[169]. Poll. vii. 53. Jam παράπηχυ λήδιον vel ἱμάτιον, collatis Hesychii et Pollucis interpretationibus, intelligi videtur dictam fuisse vestem albam cui manicæ adpositæ essent purpureæ.—Schweig. ad Athen. xiii. 45. t. xii. p. 146.

[170]. Athen. xiii. 45. Poll. ubi supra.

[171]. Iliad, γ. 141.

[172]. Poll. vii. 54.

[173]. Among the Dorians the ass (ὄνος) was called κίλλος, and an ass-driver (ὀνηλάτης) κιλλακτὴρ. Poll. vii. 56.

[174]. Poll. vii. 56, seq.

[175]. Cf. Winkelmann, iv. 2. 76. Alex. Pædag. ii. 12.

[176]. Theoc. Eidyll. i. 33. Æmil. Port. Lex. Dor. in voce.

[177]. Iliad. χ. 469. Heyne in loc. Pollux. v. 95, enumerates the ἄμπυξ among female ornaments, but without giving any description of it. Cf. Pind. Olymp. vii. 118. Dissen. Comm. ad v. 64. Bœttiger. Pictur. Vascul. i. 87.—The κεκρύφαλος, or κροκύφαντος,, which occurs once in the Iliad, was a female ornament for the head, unknown to the later Greeks. The scholiast describes it as κόσμος τὶς περὶ κεφαλήν; and Damm observes that, it was “redimiculam vel reticulam quo mulieres crines coërcent.”—1158. Heyne is equally unsatisfactory. The commentators on Pollux. v. 95, avoid the subject altogether. Cf. Foës. Œcon. Hippoc. p. 202.

[178]. Iliad, χ. 469. Πλεκτὴ ἀναδέσμη· οἱ μὲν διάδημα, says Apollonios, οἱ δὲ μίτραν. Πλὴν κοσμου εἶδος περὶ τὴν κεφαλὴν. This is the basis of Hesychius’ article. The Leyden scholia say:—ἀναδέσμη λέγεται, σειρὰ, ἥν περὶ τοὺς κροτάφους ἀναδοῦνται· καλεῖται δ᾽ ὑπ’ ἑνίων καλανδάκη. (In which Heyne imagines we may detect calantica, “a hood, hurlet, or coif.”) Κρήδεμνον δὲ πάλιν τὸ μαφόριον.

[179]. Poll. v. 96. Iliad. σ. 595. In Homer the epithet, however, is not πλεκτὴ but καλὴ. Hemsterhuis ad Poll. t. iv. p. 998.

[180]. Deipnosoph. xv. 22. Cf. Poll. v. 96.

[181]. Cœl. Rhodig. xxvii. 27, imagines it to mean a female head-dress, or a parasol. Jungermann. ad Poll. v. 96. Eustath. ad Iliad. β. 401.

[182]. On a mask, engraved among the Gemm. Antich. of Agostini, we find an exact representation of the modern feronet, pl. 24.

[183]. Athen. xii. 62. Pollux. v. 96.

[184]. Poll. vii. 67. 95.

[185]. Plut. Arat. § 58.

[186]. Clem. Alexand. Pædag. ii. 12. Winkelmann, Histoire de l’Art. iv. 2. 75. note 6, and i. 2. 18. See also Cabinet Pio Clement, t. i. pl. 2, with the observations of Visconti.

[187]. Cf. Mus. Chiaramont, pl. 20.

[188]. Poll. v. 96. vii. 95. Eustath. ad Dion. Perieg, v. 7. Comment. ad Poll. iv. 999. On the κάλαμος, named but not described by Pollux, v. 96, see Eustath. ad Il. τ. p. 1248. Phavor. et Hesych. in voce καλαμις. What the ἔντροπον was, Jungermann confesses he does not know; nor do I, though it appears probable that it may have been the golden or gilt ornament with which the hair when gathered on the top of the head was bound together.

[189]. Damm. 444. Aristoph. Plut. 589. Poll. v. 96.

[190]. This lexicographer speaks of it as follows:—κτένιον. ὁ φοροῦσιν αἱ γυναῖκες ἐν τοῖς ἀναδέμασιν, οἷς κόσμος χρυσοῦς ἐπὶ κεφαλῆς. t. ii. p. 252. b.

[191]. 612, 23, seq.

[192]. Hemsterhuis. ad Poll. t. iv. p. 1000.

[193]. Il. ξ. 182. Odys. σ. 296. Ælian. Var. Hist. i. 18.

[194]. Fabri. Thes. v. auris.

[195]. Damm. 2195, reads τριότταια, and τριοττίδες, in the passage of Eustathius, which forms the basis of my text; but Kuhn and Jungermann ad Poll. t. iv. p. 1003, correct as above.

[196]. Onomast. v. 97.

[197]. Il. σ. 401. Cf. Eustath. ad Odyss. ω. 49.

[198]. Deipnosoph. xii. 62.

[199]. Poll. v. 97.

[200]. Jungermann ad Poll. t. iv. 1001.

[201]. Poll. v. 95.

[202]. Odyss. σ. 290. Hymn, in Ven. ii. 11, seq. Necklaces of gilded wood. Xen. Œcon. x. 3. 61.

[203]. Plut. Mar. § 17. Bulenger, De Spoliis Bellicis, c. 12.

[204]. Sch. Aristoph. Vesp. 677.

[205]. Comment. ad Poll. v. 98 p. 1003.

[206]. Theocrit. xi. 41. Casaub. Lect. Theocrit. c. 13.

[207]. Amor. § 41.

[208]. Poll. v. 100. Golden periscelides are enumerated by Longus l. i. among the possessions of the young Lesbian girl; and Horace, Epist. i. xvii. 56, speaks of the periscelis being snatched away from a courtezan. Here Dr. Bentley understands the word to mean tibialia, and observes,—“delicatulæ fasciolis involvebant sibi crura et femora.” But Gesner ad Horat. p. 503, seq. rather supposes “compedes mulierum,” to be intended, and he is probably right. Cf. Petron. Sat. c. 67.

[209]. Cf. Mus. Chiaram. pl. 14. pl. 18.

[210]. Poll. v. 101. Rhodig. vi. 12.

[211]. Poll. v. 101. Cf. Schol. Aristoph. Ran. 249. Bergler ad loc. renders it by bulla, which, among the Romans, signified “a golden ornament worn about the neck, or at the breast of children, fashioned like a heart, and hollow within, which they wore until they were fourteen years old, and then hung up to the household gods.”—Porphyr. in Horat. vid. et Fab. Thes. in v.

[212]. Diog. Laert. ii. 37. c. Sch. Aristoph. Lysist. 417. Wooden shoes were worn in Thessaly. With these the women killed Lais in the temple of Aphrodite—Athen. xiii. 55. There was a species of shoes peculiar to female slaves called peribarides.—Poll. vii. 87. Aristoph. Lysist. 47.

[213]. Sch. Aristoph. Nub. 152. See in Antich. di Ercol. t. vi. p. 11, a representation of half-boots open in front.

[214]. Lucian, Diall. Meret. xiv. 3. ἐκ Πατάρων σανδάλια ἐπίχρυσα.

[215]. Athen. xiii. 23. Poll. vii. 94.

[216]. Their perfumes and essences were kept in alabaster boxes from Phœnicia, some of which cost no more than two drachmæ.—Lucian, Diall. Meret. xiv. 2.

[217]. Paus. ii. 37, 38.

[218]. Aristoph. Concion. 732, et Schol.

[219]. Pignor. de Serv. p. 195.

[220]. Cf. Suid. v. κομᾷ. t. i. p. 1489. b.

[221]. See Pashley, i. 247. Pignor. de Serv. 193.

[222]. “The beautiful colour we call auburn, and which the ancients expressed by the term golden, is the most common among the Greeks; and they have gilt wire and various other ornaments (among which might yet perhaps be recognised the Athenian grasshopper) in ringlets, which they allow to float over their shoulders, or bind their hair in long tresses that hang upon the back.”—Douglas, Essay, &c. p. 147, seq.

[223]. This is beautifully described by Lucian:—Γυναικὶ δὲ ἀεὶ πάσῃ ἡ τοῦ δαψιλεῖς μὲν ἀπὸ τῶν βοστρύχων τῆς κεφαλῆς ἕλικες, ὑακίνθοις τὸ καλὸν ἀνθοῦσιν ὅμοια πορφύροντες· οἱ μὲν, ἐπινώτιοι κέχυνται μεταφρένων κόσμος, οἱ δε παρ’ ὦτα καὶ κροτάφους, πολὺ τῶν ἐν λειμῶνι οὐλότερον σελίνων· τὸ δ᾽ ἄλλο σῶμα, μηδ᾽ ἀκαρῆ τριχὸς αὐταῖς ὑποφυομένης ἠλέκτρου, φάσιν, ἢ Σιδωνίας ὑέλου διαφεγγέστιρον ἀπαστραπται.—Amor. § 26.

[224]. Pignor. de Serv. 194, seq.

[225]. The young lady, in Lucian, describes thin hair drawn back so as to expose the forehead as a great deformity.—Diall. Meret. i.

[226]. A taste not greatly dissimilar presides over the in-door dress of the modern Greek women. “In the gynecæum,” says Chandler, “the girl, like Thetis, treading on a soft carpet, has her white and delicate feet naked; the nails tinged with red. Her trowsers, which in winter are of red cloth, and in summer of fine calico or thin gauze, descend from the hip to the ankle, hanging loosely about her limbs, the lower portion embroidered with flowers, and appearing beneath the shift, which has the sleeves wide and open, and the seams and edges curiously adorned with needlework. Her vest is of silk, exactly fitted to the form of the bosom and the shape of the body, which it rather covers than conceals, and is shorter than the shift. The sleeves button occasionally to the hand, and are lined with red or yellow satin. A rich zone encompasses her waist, and is fastened before by clasps of silver gilded, or of gold, set with precious stones. Over the vest is a robe, in summer lined with ermine, and in cold weather with fur. The head-dress is a skull-cap, red or green, with pearls; a stay under the chin, and a yellow fore-head cloth, She has bracelets of gold on her wrists; and, like Aurora, is rosy-fingered, the tips being stained. Her necklace is a string of zechins, a species of gold coin, or of the pieces called Byzantines. At her cheeks is a lock of hair made to curl toward the face; and down her back falls a profusion of tresses, spreading over her shoulders.”—ii. 140.

[227]. Lucian. Amor. § 41. Homer in numerous passages celebrates the deep bosoms of his country women, and Anacreon, also, touches more than once on the same topic.

[228]. Anchusa. Theoph. Hist. Plant. vii. 8. 3. Dion. Chrysost. i. 262. Poll. vii. 95. Aristoph. Lysist. 46. et Schol. Muret. Not. in Xen. Cyrop. p. 743, seq. Xen. Cyrop. i. 3. 2.

[229]. Poll. v. 101, vii. 95.

[230]. Xenoph. Œconom. x. 2, 60.

[231]. Cf. Xen. de Vect. iv. 8.

[232]. Luc. Amor. § 41, seq. Cf. Casaub. ad Theoph. Char. p. 339. Aristoph. Plut. 1015, et schol. Plut. Vit. x. Orat. Lycurg. In the country, too, women went often abroad, and evidently led a very comfortable life; their habits, in fact, greatly resembled those of English country ladies; the wives of men whose estates lay contiguous freely visiting and gossiping with each other. Thus in the action on the damage caused by the torrent, we find the wife of Tisias and the mother of Callicles discussing the spoiling of the barley and the barley meal, and meeting, evidently, as often as they thought proper. In fact, before the quarrel, the footpath across the field was clearly well worn.—Demosth. in Call. § 7.

[233]. Aristoph. Lysist. 662.

[234]. Poll. vii. 49.

[235]. If the appearance of a ghost can be regarded as good testimony, it may be concluded that the Thessalians wore the chlamys, since Achilles when called up by Apollonios of Tyana, presented himself in that garment.—Philost. Vit. Apoll. iv. 16.

[236]. Müll. Dor. ii. 283. Diog. Laert. ii. 47. Clothes were suspended in the house on pegs.—Odyss. α. 440.

[237]. Il. ω. 230. Poll. vii. 49.

[238]. Diog. Laert. ii. iii. 5. Cum not. Menag. t. ii. p. 49.

[239]. Dion, Chrysost. i. 231. Reiske. On the dress of the Arcadians, Polyæn. Stratagem. iv. 14.

[240]. Müller. Hist. Dor. ii. 277. See the picturesque description which Hesiod gives of the rustic winter costume of Bœotia. Opp. et Dies, 534, sqq. Goettl.

[241]. Poll. vii. 46.

[242]. Σαπφὼ πρώτη γὰρ μέμνηται τῆς χλαμύδος.—Ammonius, p. 147. Valcken.

[243]. Heliodor. i. and ii.

[244]. Sch. Aristoph. Nub. 415. Cf. Vesp. 116, 475.

[245]. Plut. Lyc. § 16. Inst. Lac. § 5.

[246]. Xenoph. de Rep. Laced. iii. 4. Of Phocion, an imitator of Spartan manners, the same thing is related.—Plut Phoc. § 4.

[247]. Herod. vii. 208, with the notes of Valckenaar and Wesseling.

[248]. Plut. Instit. Lacon. § 5.

[249]. Thucyd. i. 6. Plat. de Rep. t. vi. p. 167. Tim. Lex. 188. Aristoph. Eccles. 332. Sch. Aristoph. Eq. 879. Lucian. Amor. § 3.

[250]. Aristoph. Concion. 60, et Schol.

[251]. Athen. v. 49.—Even slaves were in the habit of wearing rings set with precious stones, sometimes of three colours, of which several specimens are found in the British Museum. Thus, in Lucian, we find Parmenon, the servant of Polemon, with a ring of this kind on his little finger.—Diall. Meret. ix. 2. Cf. Hemster. ad Poll. ix. 96. t. vi. p. 1193.

[252]. Poll. vii. 92, seq.

[253]. Casaub. ad Theoph. Char. p. 329.

[254]. Athen. xii. 5. Sch. Aristoph. Eq. 1328. Nub. 971.

[255]. It is very clear from a passage in Demosthenes (De Fals. Leg. § 72), that hats or caps were sometimes worn in the city. There are those indeed who suppose the word to mean a wig; but Brodæus disposes of this by inquiring whether sick persons would be likely to go to bed with their wigs on as men did with their πιλίδια. Miscell. i. 13. However, I must confess their wearing hats in bed is still less likely. The Bœotians appeared in winter with caps which covered the ears. Hesiod. Opp. et Dies, 545. On the form of which, see Theoph. Hist. Plant. iii. 9. 6, with the note of Schneid. t. iii. p. 191.

[256]. Xenoph. de Rep. Athen. i. 10.

[257]. Athen. xi. 120. On the gorgeous dress of the painter Parrhasios. xii. 62.

[258]. We find mention made of Persian dresses variegated with the figures of animals. Philost. Icon. ii. 32.

[259]. Athen. xii. 29.

[260]. Athen. xii. 30.