It is difficult to say which part of these stories is mere charlatanism and what refers to real medical treatment by means of operation. It is but natural that the priests at first got information by questioning each patient about his illness. The sleep in the sanctuary, which was indispensable for healing, was probably not a natural one, but either a mesmeric sleep—since undoubtedly the ancients were acquainted with this—or else a half-sleep induced by some narcotic, during which the priests in the service of Aesculapius or their assistants appeared and performed slight surgical operations on the sick people. This hypothesis is the more probable, since all the cures mentioned in these inscriptions from Epidaurus (which, though dating from the time of Alexander the Great, are copies of older inscriptions, probably of the fifth century) deal only with external means and never with internal treatment; no medicine or healing drink is mentioned.
The cures which took place later on in the sanctuaries of Aesculapius by means of incubation, or temple sleep, which were customary even in the Roman period, were of a different nature. The invalids were not actually cured during their sleep, but they received in a dream an indication from the god of the manner in which they could be freed from their sufferings, directions sometimes in reference to dietetic measures, such as baths, fasting, etc., and sometimes to medicines. In these cases, too, we must suppose that the invalid fell into a state of half-sleep, during which a priest in the form of the god appeared, and gave the directions in question, for which a quantity of medical knowledge, gradually acquired by experience, stood the priests in good stead. Sometimes healing thermae, or springs, which were found near some of the sanctuaries, did good service, especially if the invalids remained there for some time. The Greek sanctuaries of Aesculapius were almost always situated on high ground, where the air was healthy and pure. There must always have been houses for the reception of sick people, especially those who came from a great distance. Thus the sanctuary of Aesculapius at Epidaurus was about four miles from the town, but, to prevent any pollution of the holy place, no children must be born there and no one must die there, and on this account pregnant women and dying people were mercilessly sent away. Of course the priests did not give their aid for nothing, but were repaid in money or offerings to the shrine, and we find many allusions to these offerings; indeed, the sanctuary at Epidaurus could vie in wealth with that at Delphi.
It was not only in the temples of Aesculapius that dream oracles existed. Many other gods or heroes took similar care for suffering humanity, just as at the present day the shrines which possess miraculous pictures of Madonnas or relics vie with one another. Thus sick people were received in the temple of Hades, situated between Tralles and Nysa, in Lydia, but here it was the priests and not the patients to whom the method of cure was revealed in sleep, and this was also the case in the temple of Amphiaraus at Oropus, on the borders of Attica and Boeotia.
Mention must also be made of quackery and sympathetic cures. The belief in the latter was very general in antiquity, and was shared even by unprejudiced men of considerable education. This was effected by amulets, supposed to ward off or heal diseases, and also by magic words which we should now describe as conjuring; laying on of hands, symbolical washing, etc. The sellers of drugs were specially occupied with quackery; besides rouge, paint, and other means of promoting beauty, they also sold medicines and offered their wares in mountebank fashion. Very often, when sick people had failed to obtain alleviation or cure from a regular physician, they gave him up and resorted to quackery instead.
There were a number of half symbolical, half superstitious, customs connected with death and burial, which were partly due to the belief that the soul would be more easily received and allowed to remain in the dark realm of shadows in consequence of this care of the body; but the ancients also regarded fitting burial and care for the grave as the fulfilment of a duty imposed by the gods, and likely also to bring blessing to the surviving members of the race. This duty was, therefore, only neglected in the very rarest cases. Criminals were buried without any ceremony, or were left to rot unburied; suicides, too, were refused the common honours of public burial, and were put away by night, a time which was not customary for funerals.
In order to gain some insight into these customs, let us turn once more to that house which we visited in order to be present at the birth and early life of an Athenian of the well-to-do class. Let us suppose that after spending a long and honourable life in the service of his country, he has lain down to take his last rest. Surrounded by the nearest members of his family, he has breathed his last breath, after having himself, with his dying hand, drawn one of the points of his garment over his face, in order to spare his friends the painful sight of the death struggle. One of the survivors now steps up to the bed, uncovers the face of the dead man, and softly closes his eyes and mouth. According to the curious ancient belief, not peculiar to the Greeks, that a human being is unclean immediately after entrance into life, and also on his departure from the world, and as this uncleanness is extended to the whole house and all who associate with it, immediately after the death a vessel of consecrated water, which must be brought from another house, is placed before the door, and everyone who leaves the dwelling sprinkles himself from it, in order to be once more pure and able to associate with others. The corpse is then washed by the women of the family, anointed with fine oil and sweet-scented essences, and clothed in pure white garments. These are the dress of common life—the chiton and the himation, but so put on that both arms are covered and only the head and feet seen. Youths were probably clad in the chlamys, and the Spartans preferred to clothe their dead in the scarlet military cloak, while at Athens coloured garments were sometimes used instead of white. On the dead man’s head they put a wreath of real flowers—whatever the season might supply—or else laurel, olive, or ivy. At burial, this was often replaced by an artificial wreath of beaten gold leaf, and numerous remains of these death-wreaths, which were often of very artistic workmanship, have been found in Greek graves. Relations and friends also sent fresh wreaths and garlands as a token of sympathy, and these were used for decking the bier and grave. In the dead man’s mouth they put a coin, as passage money for the ferryman who had to ferry the souls over the Styx; for after the belief in Charon, which was unknown in the Homeric period, had taken firm root among the Greeks, it was regarded as a pious duty to supply the dead man, as soon as possible, with this passage money, in order that the shade might not wander too long restlessly by the shore of Styx. The coin was put in his mouth, because in common life it was not unusual to put single coins in the hollow of the cheek, since pockets were unknown in ancient costume; large sums were seldom carried about, or else they were put in a bag. It was a similar superstition which made people in some places put a honey-cake by the side of the corpse to pacify the dog Cerberus, the fierce guardian of the lower regions. Previous to the funeral there was a solemn laying-out of the body, when friends and acquaintances came to see the departed for the last time, and the near relations took part in the funeral lament for the dead. This laying-out, or πρόθεσις, usually took place in the central hall of the house, but care was taken that the sun should not shine on the corpse, since even the Sun god must not pollute himself by the sight of a dead body. On a couch covered with cushions and hangings, adorned with flowers and branches, the dead man was laid, his feet turned towards the house door, through which he must take his last journey; round about him, at any rate at Athens, they placed large or small oil flasks (λήκυθοι), adorned with paintings, all depicting scenes dealing with death or graves, which were made in one of the Attic vase factories specially for this purpose, and were probably sent by sympathetic friends as funeral offerings. Besides the nearest relations, intimate friends also took part in the solemn funeral lament, and were sometimes specially invited for the purpose. The servants of the house also stood by the couch with the other mourners, and joined with them in the lament, in which men and women, standing apart, joined alternately. This lament was no wild, irregular wail, but a regular hymn of sorrow, and very often singers were specially hired in order to add to the beauty of the performance, and the hymn was sometimes broken from time to time by choruses sung either by the whole assembly or by semi-choruses. Many external marks of sorrow were also shown, such as are customary in the south, where the character of the people is more violent and excitable, viz., beating the breast, lacerating the cheeks, tearing out the hair, rending the garments; and sometimes cries of grief
Fig. 108.