It is not my intention to describe in detail the funeral rites of the ancient Romans, because a description of cremation as practiced by them may be met with in every encyclopædia. Moreover, a very good account of incineration, as customary among the Romans of old, may be found in Lord Bulwer Lytton’s “The Last Days of Pompeii.”
It was the fashion at Rome to pour fragrant oils and balsams over the corpse before the pyre was ignited, and to cover it with Cyprus boughs. Previous to cremation, the corpse was enveloped in asbestos, to keep the ashes of the body separate from those of the funeral pile. At times locks of hair were sacrificed to the deceased. At last one finger of the defunct was amputated, to make certain that death had taken place. Everything being ready, the nearest relative present unclosed the eyes of the deceased, and then lit the pyre with averted face. While the flames rose to heaven, the favorite animals of him who was now being consumed—dogs, doves, and even horses—were flung into the fire. Costly robes and arms of the dead were consigned to the same fate. During the early period of Roman history, prisoners of war were also committed to the flames.
The amount of spices, oils, and balsams destroyed at incinerations was enormous. Pliny reports that Nero used up more myrrh, incense, and other aromatics at the cremation of Poppsæa than could be produced by entire Arabia in one year.
While cremation was practiced in Rome, at the time of the empire, the mourning garments were white; but when incineration was displaced by interment, the raiment of the bereaved assumed a black hue, sombre as death itself.
The deceased poor of Rome (especially the women and slaves) were treated shamefully after death. Martial avers that invariably one pile had to serve for a large number. In times of pestilence, thousands were so disposed of. A cremation-ground was provided for the indigent in a wretched suburb upon the Esquiline Hill, which was inhabited by the outcasts of society, the lowest prostitutes, executioners, necromancers, and so forth. These localities were called culinæ by the people, the literal translation of which is “roast-places.” The attendants were police-slaves, whose hair had been shaved off, and who wore a brand on the bare pate. These, hurrying to and fro, placed the emaciated dead poor upon one of the many funeral piles; hardly singed by the fire, they were taken from it and thrown into a universal ditch. To every ten male corpses one female body was added, which facilitated the cineration by means of the great quantity of adipose tissue which it contained. The funerals of the poor were generally held at night.
The urns of the rich were of marble, bronze, and sometimes of gold or silver; those of the poor were of baked clay or glass. Glass urns, enclosed in others of lead, were discovered at Pompeii. The urns were generally deposited in a tomb at the roadside or placed in the pigeon-hole of a columbarium.
These columbaria, surrounded by beautiful gardens, were situated on the Via Appia, Aurelia, Flaminia, and Lavicana. The Appian Way was a favorite resort of the fashionable Roman world; here, daily, ever-changing life was seen; here the traveller took leave from the remains of his ancestors; here, too, lovers met and unfortunates took refuge.
These columbaria were subterranean chambers which served (as I have already explained) to hold the ashes of the deceased, the urns being deposited in arched recesses, hewn out in the rock for the purpose. These niches resembled pigeon-holes; hence the name, columbarium. The rare beauty of these columbaria, which may yet be seen in the Eternal City, led Nathaniel Hawthorne, our great romancer, to exclaim that he would not object to being decently pigeon-holed in a Roman tomb.
CREMATION IN SIAM.
The late queen and her little daughter on the pyre.