A curious ghost story about a haunted Athenian mansion had spread its way by word of mouth around the Roman Empire by the 1st century. It was not simply a scary fable told around camp fires by the common folk, for this particular spectral tale also became a topic of discussion between members of the intellectual circles in Roman society. Pliny the Younger (c. 61/62-113), a wealthy Roman lawyer, government official, and general statesman, described the ghost story to his peer, Licinius Sura, in a letter which was prefaced by the statement, “I should very much like to known whether you think that ghosts exist, and have a form of their own and some sort of supernatural power, or whether they lack substance and reality and take shape only from our fears” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 7.27). Pliny, who apparently was in the camp of ghost believers, used the tale of the haunted Athenian mansion as an example of ghosts potentially having a semblance of shape, sentience and supernatural power.
As the legend goes, a magnificent mansion with many rooms and a private courtyard held a reputation of infamy in Athens. Despite the spaciousness and grandeur of the rich abode, the unfortunate dwelling was considered haunted to such an extent that living in the home was considered to be detrimental to one’s health. Owners of the haunted mansion gave up on living in the property and no buyers would knowingly purchase the infamous property. Courageous renters gave it a shot from time to time, but they rarely lasted long against the audible and visible signs of the haunting.
Due to the frightening observations of the owners and renters, a common impression began to formulate about what one might expect to hear and see while staying at the haunted mansion. As told by Pliny the Younger, “At dead of night the clanking of iron, and if you listened carefully, the rattle of chains could be heard, some way off at first, and then close at hand. Then there appeared the spectre of an old man, emaciated and filthy, with a long flowing beard and hair on end, wearing fetters on his legs and shaking the chains on his wrists” (Letters, 7.27). Curiously, the ghost was said to have never caused any direct harm to the inhabitants of the mansion. Most of the problems for occupants, it seems, were due to lack of sleep caused by the incessant sounds of metallic rattling and clinking, supposedly emanating from the ghost as it navigated through the mansion at night. Nevertheless, this lack of sleep and the utter dread of having a spectral housemate reportedly inflicted such stress on residents that they were prone to falling sick with fatal illnesses.
Understandably, the terrible reputation of the mansion began driving most renters away, causing the property to be largely abandoned except for brief visits by the occasional brave thrill-seeker or the unfortunate ignoramus. As the story goes, one of the daredevils who knowingly and willingly entered the haunted mansion was a philosopher named Athenodorus (presumably Athenodorus Cananites (c. 74 BCE-7 CE), a mentor of Augustus). He came to the residence to investigate and study the spirit, and for this expedition he brought along a team of servants to aid him during his stay in the haunted home. Athenodorus reportedly camped out somewhere in the front section of the mansion, preparing a couch, a lamp, and some writing supplies at a location that would serve as his headquarters for the investigation. As night approached, Athenodorus kept himself busy at the couch by writing down notes, and he dispatched his servants to patrol the rooms of the mansion. It did not take long for the night to take a strange turn. Pliny described what allegedly occurred during those dark hours:
“At first there was nothing but the general silence of night; then came the clanking of iron and dragging of chains. He [Athenodorus] did not look up nor stop writing, but steeled his mind to shut out the sounds. Then the noise grew louder, came nearer, was heard in the doorway, and then inside the room. He looked round, saw and recognized the ghost described to him. It stood and beckoned, as if summoning him. Athenodorus in his turn signed to it to wait a little, and again bent over his notes and pen, while it stood rattling its chains over his head as he wrote. He looked round again and saw it beckoning as before, so without further delay he picked up his lamp and followed. It moved slowly, as if weighed down with chains, and when it turned off into the courtyard of the house it suddenly vanished…” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 7.27).
Athenodorus, after supposedly watching the ghost disappear into the ground of the courtyard, made sure to use nearby debris to mark the spot where the spirit sank into the ground. The next day, the philosopher and his servants excavated the earth under the marked spot, where they found skeletal remains that were bound with chains. As the story goes, the discovered remains were given a respectful public burial. This, it seems, caused the restless spirit to end its hauntings, for the mansion allegedly never experienced any further hauntings after the funeral ceremony. For anyone curious about whether or not this spiritual cleansing of the property helped the mansion’s chances on the housing market, Pliny the Younger, unfortunately, remained silent on the matter and spoke no more on the formerly-haunted mansion’s future.
Written by C. Keith Hansley
Picture Attribution: (Aeneas sees the ghost of Hector, made by Henri Fantin-Latour in 1888, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the Rijksmuseum).
Sources:
- The Letters of Pliny the Younger, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1963, 1969.
