Among the many institutions which contributed to that polished civilization which was the glory of ancient Greece, none were higher in aspirations, or more prolific in results, than the Tragedies and Comedies which were at certain intervals presented in the Theatre at Athens. The Athenians were by this agency, brought to a cultivated discrimination in music and poetry, and as we shall see later, the choruses being chosen from the body of the people, and demanding an amount of musical ability in the members, caused the study of music to become almost a necessity to all.[47]
In its early days the Drama, (if it be worthy of the name,) must have been a mere masquerading on any raised platform. It had its origin in the festivities of Dionysius (Bacchus), for at the earliest Dionysian festivals, the populace smeared their faces in wine lees, and thus disguised, sang choruses in honor of this god of mirth.
In later times, linen masks were substituted, but only in the days of Thespis, did the art assume some regular shape.
Comedy may be said to have arisen about 562 B. C., when Susarion and Dolon travelled around, caricaturing the vices and follies of their time, from a rude scaffold.
The first Tragedy was acted in Athens, by Thespis, from a wagon, in the year 535 B. C. In the same year Thespis received a goat as reward for playing “Alcestis” at Athens. Goats were frequently given as rewards for this kind of composition, and the word Tragedy is derived by some, from the words Tragos, a goat, Odé, a song, literally a “goat-song.”
The earliest attempt at dramatic action, with a plot, or incident to give it connection, was the representation of the gift of the grape to mankind, by Dionysius; this required three dramatis personae, therefore Thespis changed his linen mask three times.
Solon was not well pleased with the new art; striking his stick upon the ground he said: “If this sort of thing were allowed and praised, it would soon be found in the market-place;” and to Thespis who was singing a recitation in the character which he was acting, he said: “Are you not ashamed to lie so?”
Solon had probably forgotten that when he aroused the Athenians to the reconquest of Salamis, he had assumed the character of a herald from the island. Solon had predicted right however, the drama became the most cherished institution of Greece; even in its earliest stages, the state fostered it, and it always attracted the peons for it was both a religious, and popular enjoyment.
The sons of Pisistratus did much in these days to encourage and stimulate it. They arranged contests, rewards, etc., with profusion.
The tragedies of Thespis which he both wrote and acted himself, had but one performer, who, rapidly changing his mask, assumed various different characters in the play. The monotony was soon felt, and in order that dialogues might be used, a chorus was introduced, and then much of the action consisted of duets between the solitary performer, or protagonist, and the chorus.
Phrynicus, a few years later, allowed this single actor to take both male and female characters; but the first thorough representation of tragedy, with its properties carefully attended to, is due to the great tragic poet Æschylus, who instructed the actor and the chorus carefully, and gave attention to thoroughness in its every department so far as then known.
The platform and auditorium were still uncouth wooden structures, until a poetical contest took place between Phrynicus and others, when the benches were so crowded that the whole structure gave way and many were injured; after this the theatres were built of stone.
The performances were still regarded as belonging to religious rites; the seats were at first built in a semi-circle around the altar of Dionysius, and the theatre never became, as with us, an every-day matter, but was only used at certain Dionysian festivals, which occurred about three times each year. Æschylus aimed very much at the terrible in his tragedies, and the poets of this era never sought to “hold the mirror up to nature,” but rather to represent something awe-inspiring and supernatural; therefore the actors had to prepare themselves in many peculiar ways for the stage.
The characters of tragedy were represented as much larger than human beings; to effect this the tragedian wore a kind of stilt-shoes with very high heels, called cothurne, padded out his body in proportion to his height, lengthened his arms by adding an artificial hand, and wore a mask of large size, over his face. The stage upon which he appeared, was also elevated above that on which the chorus stood, and the latter not being artificially enlarged, must have appeared as pigmies, beside these gigantic heroes.
The voice was pitched in a style corresponding to the magnitude of the body; it has been suggested[48] that the large tragic mask may have concealed some contrivance for strengthening the voice; however this may be, it is certain that the voice of the tragedian needed to be metallic, solemn and majestic, and that this, though partly a natural gift, had to be strengthened by long and severe practice, and a vast amount of physical strength was also required to move about naturally when so extremely bundled up.
Lucian in his “De saltatione,” ridicules the tragic actor’s equipment. He says: “What a ridiculous thing it is, to see a fellow stalking around upon a pair of high heeled boots, with a terrible mask on, and a wide gaping mouth, as if he intended to swallow the audience,[49] not to mention the unseemly thickness of breast and body, all of which is done to hide the disproportion between his extravagant height, and his meagre body. Bawling aloud, and writhing his body in a thousand odd gestures;” and then he alludes to the better singing and acting of previous time, “but all sense of fitness is lost,” he concludes, “when Hercules enters singing a mournful ditty, without either lion’s skin or club.”
With regard to the immovable mask, Ottfried Müller supposes that the picture is overdrawn, for facial expression had far less to do with the action of the drama of that day than we imagine; the character had not so many changing emotions to depict, as in modern plays; he says[50] “we can imagine an Orestes, or a Medea, with a set countenance, but never a Hamlet or Tasso.”
We must also remember that the vast extent of the Athenian Theatre, made it next to impossible to distinguish much play of feature, and that the same masks were not worn throughout the play, but changed at any great change of emotion. Oedipus in the tragedy by Sophocles, after misfortunes came upon him, wore a different mask from the one worn in his days of prosperity.
The first plays represented were relative to the history of the gods, and demi-gods, but Phrynicus made a bold innovation by representing contemporaneous events upon the stage. He once ventured to represent the conquest of Miletus, from the Athenians; the effect, according to Herodotus, was startling, the whole audience burst into tears, and the Athenian government forbade any further plays on that subject, prohibited the piece from ever being represented again, and fined the poet heavily.
The contests between rival writers, by simultaneous production of their pieces was a fruitful source of jealousy. Æchylus upon being vanquished in one of these by Sophocles, took his defeat so much to heart, that he left Athens for some years, and took up his residence in Sicily.
In the plays of Thespis and Phrynicus, one actor only was employed; Æchylus enriched his works by adding a second performer, called the Deuteragonist. Sophocles went beyond by adding the third, or Tritagonist, and desired even more, for in his Oedipus in Colonus, he found that four players were a necessity, and wrote the tragedy for that number, but dared not publicly make the innovation, and therefore this great work remained unperformed until after his death.
The above mentioned three performers, had their distinct lines of duty, as we to-day have upon the stage, actors for each kind of character, but the distinction was carried to great height on the ancient stage, for the first actor always came on the stage from the right entrance, the second from the left, and the third from the centre.
The stage of the Athenian theatre was very wide but not deep, and the scenery was very simple; sometimes the house of the chief character was represented, sometimes the tent of a hero, but oftenest the entrance of a palace, before which the entire action of some dramas could take place. They were always exterior views, and no scenes of the interior parts of a dwelling were ever used. The whole active life of the Greek was passed in the open air, so that it seemed more natural to him to represent his characters as living similarly. The female characters were often personated by boys.
There were many expedients to make the following of the action of the play easier to the spectators, in such a vast space; programmes they had not, opera glasses did not exist, so certain formulae took the place of both; when standing on the stage of the Athenian theatre, and facing the audience, the harbor and city of Athens were on the left hand, and Attica on the right; a person entering from the right hand, was therefore presumed to be a stranger who had come over land; and from the left as coming from the city.
The stage also possessed some mechanical effects, such as chariots descending from the skies, birds or even immense beetles soaring aloft carrying persons with them, forms arising from the deep, thunder, lightning, etc. The chorus was an immense help to the audience in following the events of the piece, and we must now describe this characteristic part of Greek tragedy.
The dramatic chorus probably appeared first as Satyrs, the natural attendants of the jolly god Dionysius, in the plays of Thespis, and were then numerous and ill disciplined.
Æchylus lessened the part of the chorus in his tragedies, and they no longer sang an unceasing duet with the Protagonist, for the addition of a second actor, made dialogues possible without their assistance.
The number of Choryeutes (chorus players) in Æchylus’s tragedies was twelve; Sophocles, and Euripides had usually fifteen.
In the tragedy of the “Eumenides” there was a special chorus of fifty members; these were apparelled as the hideous furies of that name, all in black, with angry countenances, snakes twining in their hair, and blood dripping from their eyes; and suddenly these frightful apparitions appeared on the stage: the effect was terrible, women shrieked, and fell in convulsions, and several children died of fright. This event proves that the stage effects were rather realistic in those days.
The chorus was felt as an inconvenience by Euripides, who yet could not break the shackles of custom sufficiently to do away with it.
The arrangement of the chorus was changed when it was transplanted from lyric to dramatic use. The dithyrambic chorus stood around an altar singing hymns, and was wholly occupied with its music: the dramatic chorus stood in the shape of a square, the director taking good care to place the best dressed and handsomest choryeutes in front.
The songs were accompanied with well regulated movements, usually of a stately and dignified character, such as befitted the characters which they were representing, the parts which they performed usually being those of Matrons or Patriarchs, who were best suited to give counsel, comfort, or admonition to the acting characters of the drama.
The formation of choruses, was a matter of legislation. The archon of the city, gave the task of forming the choruses, to some of the wealthy citizens, who had the title of Choregus. This person was not the chorus leader, but the founder of it. He had authority from the archon to receive and select able singers; when he had the organization formed, he engaged a choryphaeus or director, to instruct the members in singing and dancing; he engaged flute-players[51] to accompany them, and paid a regular salary to them all, that of the flute-players being higher than that of the singers. He had to board and lodge them; to supply them with good beverages during rehearsals; to see that they received nutritious food, and such as was good for their voices; to supply them with masks, and costumes for their parts, and other duties all tending to the well being of the chorus. The choregus received no pay for this, but if in a dramatic contest his chorus was adjudged to be the best, he received a wreath as a reward.
Expensive as this honor was, yet it was sought after by all the richer class of Athens, as it was an ostentatious manner of showing their munificence, for the tragic choruses vied with each other in the splendor of their attire, their costumes being superb mantles of gold, and purple. So costly was it that the saying became a well known jest, that the way to ruin a man, was to get him appointed choregus.
The costume of the actors was also rich, without much reference to the part they were playing. Hercules came on the stage in purple and gold instead of with a lion’s skin.
The poet who had just completed a tragedy, and succeeded in obtaining a hearing for it, applied to the Archon for a chorus; that functionary, if he had confidence in the applicant, would assign him one of the choruses which had already been formed and on receiving the permission from the choregus, the composer would set to work, drilling them in their various songs, attitudes, and movements. The director did not use a stick for this purpose, as in modern days, but beat the time with a heavy pair of iron shoes which he put on for the purpose.[52] The chorus of comedy was a less expensive and smaller affair. The music which it sang was also less difficult and grand.
The comedy chorus consisted of twenty-four members, who came on the stage in detachments of six each.
The comedy costumes of both actors and chorus were something like what we are accustomed to see in farce or pantomime; there was something comical and exaggerated about them, which occasioned mirth of itself. The masks were decidedly comic, and usually caricatured the countenance of some public person well known to the audience. The comedy, especially in the older days that of Aristophanes sought to teach the people by holding up to ridicule, all such persons or measures as seemed to the poet worthy of censure; therefore it dealt almost exclusively with the events of the day, and such characters as Alcibiades, Socrates, Cleon, etc., are constantly appearing, and in the most mirth-provoking manner.
It is a matter of regret, however, that Aristophanes wielded so much influence, for he brought it to bear against Socrates, whom he was narrow-minded enough to take as the representative of Sophistry, and raised a popular feeling against him by his comedy of “The Clouds,” in which he attributed the most interested motives to that grand philosopher.
It is unfortunate for Cleon that the caricature of Aristophanes was accepted as a portrait, and he has come down to us only as the noisy impudent demagogue, as portrayed in “The Knights;” yet Cleon must have been a rough and sturdy leader of the populace, to have attained so much power.[53]
Aristophanes was aristocratic in his tendencies, and could not forgive the tanner, for having risen from his humble sphere.
It required much courage however to attack the leader of the democracy, with such boldness. Even the mask makers refused to make the comic mask of Cleon; and when the mask was obtained no actor dared to play the character, so that Aristophanes was obliged to act it himself. Cleon embroiled Aristophanes in three lawsuits in consequence of his audacity.
The choruses of these comedies had sometimes to assume very odd parts, as in the two comedies of the “Birds,” and the “Wasps,” where they represented those creatures. The masks were made to correspond to the character assumed, and in “The Wasps” each man had a short spear or sting, which they sometimes thrust out, or drew in, and the whole chorus would sometimes move about quickly with a buzzing noise. The wasps were a satire upon the swarm of Athenian magistrates.[54]
One is forcibly reminded in these plays of the recent inventions of the French Opera Bouffe.
In the later comedies, private intrigues began to form the plot, and there was no great difference between these and the plays of modern times.
The dances of Greece were of considerable variety, and seem to have been both refined and coarse in their character. The earliest were probable merely military manœuvres, which were performed to songs, or to accompaniment of flute or kithara: or festival dances at the Bacchanalian or Dionysian revels. The chief dances may be classed as the Pyrrhic, the Cordax, and the Emmeleia.
The chorus itself, in very early times, was, in some parts of Greece only used to heighten the effect of a solo song, by its pantomimic dancing.
In Crete, youths and maidens joined hands and danced in a circle; in the centre of such a circle sat the musician, who sang to the accompaniment of a kithara, while the chorus expressed by their actions, not by singing, the various emotions which he chanted.
The Pyrrhic, or war dance, was the pride of all Greece, and all young men studied it.
In Sparta there was a law that all parents should send their sons, above the age of five years, to the public place, to have them instructed in the armed dance; on these occasions they were led by the teachers who made them sing hymns, etc., as they danced. The Pyrrhic was in fact, a mock battle, in four parts, representing the pursuit, overtaking, combat, and capture of the enemy, and was used as drill, to make young men proficient in the use of their weapons; it was accompanied by flute, which instrument was the one which the Greeks thought aroused the energies most.
The origin of the Pyrrhic is given as follows,—When Zeus, (Jupiter) was born, his father Kronos, (Saturn) knowing that he should be dethroned by him sought his life; he was hidden by the Corybantes, who on Kronos’ coming near, fearing that the child would be discovered by its crying, began to dance about, and clashed their swords and shields, thus drowning its voice and saving its life.
Dancing was equal, and often combined, with singing, and was held in the highest estimation by the upper classes, and even the philosophers of ancient Greece; though of course only in its higher branches, the lower being usually abandoned to paid performers, as we to-day draw a wide distinction between a fashionable ball-room dance, and a ballet, though both are called dancing.
Skill in dancing, was a most envied accomplishment, for it meant both grace, and the talent of expressing all emotions without words.
Lucian[55] says the real art of the dance is to express an action, and gives a long list of mythological and historical deeds which were suited to representation. “The dancer” he says “must understand history, mythology, rhetoric,” etc.
One person performed the whole dance, no matter how many characters were included in the action, and therefore he had to change his dress sometimes with much rapidity. The Proteus of the fables, is imagined to have been only a dancer skilled in sudden changes.
The philosophers not only praised, but practised the art. Plato led a chorus of dancing boys; and considered those to be rough, uncouth churls who disliked so pleasant a gift of the gods.[56]
Alcibiades danced in public, arrayed in great splendor. Sophocles was a celebrated dancer, and leader of dancing; while yet a boy, after the Greek victory at Salamis, he is said to have danced (according to some, naked) before the trophies.
Socrates often entertained his guests with dancing, and studied it himself at an advanced age.[57]
Exact information respecting the dance is lacking, some commentators deeming it to have been very like our modern ballet, others maintaining that there was a vast difference; Czerwinski and Wieland hold the former opinion, and to all appearance justly. Some erudite writers have endeavored to give the most circumstantial accounts of the ancient manner of dancing.
Meibomius, one of the earliest writers on this subject, endeavored to dance an ancient Greek dance to an ancient Greek tune, before the court of Sweden, and Scaliger in the sixteenth century danced the Pyrrhic dance fully armed, before the Emperor Maximilian;[58] both assumed far too much knowledge in the matter.
There were undoubtedly numerous dancing schools, and possibly also some set figures prescribed in certain dances, but these figures had no names attached to them, and cannot be determined with certainty. The time was marked as in chorus, by a leader, tapping on the floor with heavy iron shoes. There are indications that a dance similar to the Virginia reel, and other contra dances were known to them; also a dance which resembled the game of “follow-my-leader,” where all imitated the postures and gestures of a leader.
Many variations were allowed; Cleisthenes having promised the hand of his daughter to the most successful dancer among her lovers, Hippoclides, of Athens, tried an innovation on the usual style; having danced the Emmeleia, or tragic dance successfully, he ordered the attendants to bring him a table, upon which he sprang, and standing on his head gesticulated with his legs. Cleisthenes indignant at this new departure, exclaimed “Oh son of Tisander you have undanced your marriage;” Cleisthenes caring more for his skill than for his marriage, replied “that is perfectly immaterial to me.”
The Emmeleia, was the stately dance belonging to tragedy, and was the one most practised by the poets of that time, as they were often obliged to teach it to the chorus, thus adding the business of dancing master, to their already numerous duties.
The Sicinis was a dance of demi-gods, and was suited to the immense figure of the heroes of tragedy, already described. There was also a dance representing Theseus wandering about in the labyrinth, the figures of which must have been very twisted and irregular.
There was a species of dancing at banquets and revels, by paid female performers, at which the shape and form of the dancer were as lavishly displayed as in the modern ballet.[59]
The Cordax, or comic dance was throughout vulgar and unseemly, and no Athenian could dance it unmasked, without bringing down upon himself the reproach of the greatest impudence and immodesty. It was so outrageous that the comic poets often tried to do without it. Aristophanes, in “The Clouds” prides himself that he does not use it in that comedy. The cordax was a dance wherein the utmost vulgarity was not only allowed but demanded.[60]
Lucian in his treatise “de Saltatione” intimates the existence of various other dances which in his day had fallen into desuetude, as the dance of the Cranes; also the Phrygian dance, which was only to be danced when the performers were drunk, and jumped about, with uncouth irregular leaps to the music of the flute.
Lucian also gives a specimen of the raillery of the people, when the dancer was not suited to the part; when a small person undertook to act Hector, they would call out, “we want Hector, not Astyanax.” To a fat dancer, on making a leap they called “be careful, you’ll break the stage;” and to a lean, sickly looking dancer they cried “go home, and nurse yourself, never mind dancing.” Such little remarks are not unsuited to the gamins of the New York or London theatres.
We have dwelt rather long upon Greek Music, Theatre Chorus, and Dancing, but the subject has more than usual interest, as in the Greek art, of all descriptions, we find the seeds from whence has sprung our own.
Art-love was not a distinguishing characteristic of the ancient Romans, and we are not astonished therefore, to find them borrowing music from Etruria, Greece, and Egypt; originating nothing, and (although the study was pursued by the Emperors) never finding anything higher in its practice than a sensuous gratification.
In the earliest days of Rome, the inhabitants were exclusively farmers, or warriors, and their first temples were raised to Ceres, or to Mars.
The priests of Ceres came originally from Asia Minor, and were called the Arval Brotherhood; flute-playing was a prominent feature in their rites, and they were all proficient upon that instrument. Their number was limited to twelve.
The worship of Mars was conducted by the Salian priests, whom Numa summoned to Rome, from Etruria. These also used the flute as an accessory to their sacrificial rites. In these primitive days of Rome, much was borrowed from the Etruscans, in style and instruments of music.
The earliest songs of Rome were in praise of Romulus, and told the story of the twin brothers, and the divine origin of the city. They were sung by choruses of boys. Similar songs were sung during meals by the elders, with an accompaniment of flutes; these latter songs being especially directed to the young men and inciting them to be worthy of the deeds of their ancestors.[61]
Under the rule of the Emperors, all these worthy compositions went to decay, and were replaced by a much more degrading school of music. At no time, however, was music considered a necessary part of the education of Roman youth.
There existed in the later days of ancient Rome, some music schools, but the study was far less universally pursued, than in Greece, at the same epoch. The musical course, has been given by Quintilian, as follows,—
Which makes a rather formidable array, even to modern eyes.
Among the Roman musical instruments, the flute was the most popular, and essentially national. We have already stated, that it was used in the worship of their two chief deities; it was in secular use to a yet greater extent.
This flute (Tibia) was hooped with brass bands, and had an immense resonance. It was used by both sexes, but in public, and on most religious occasions, was played by men.
The frequency with which it was used, made the art of playing it, a most remunerative one, and the flute-players soon formed themselves into a guild, or protective society. This guild had many privileges accorded to it, and existed for a period of some centuries. The “Guild of Dionysian Artists” was a society of later date, and was a Musical Conservatory, Academy, and Agency all in one. It flourished greatly under the patronage of various Roman Emperors, and for a long time supplied singers and actors to the Roman world.
Valerius Maximus[62] has given an anecdote which shows how powerful, and exacting the Guild of flute-players could afford to be.
They were one day excluded from the Temple of Jupiter, where they had been allowed, by ancient custom, to take their meals; upon which the entire Guild left Rome, and went to the village of Tibur near by. This caused great embarrassment, no religious services could be held, and scarce any state ceremony properly conducted. The senate thereupon sent an embassy to induce them to return; in vain, the angry musicians were inflexible. The wily embassadors then called the inhabitants of Tibur to their aid, and these pretended to give a great feast, to welcome the flute-players. At this feast, the musicians were all made very drunk, and while asleep from the effects of their liquor, they were bundled into chariots and driven back to Rome, where all their old privileges were restored, and newer, and greater ones added.
They received the right to give public representations, and spectacles, in Rome; but at these they were always masked, the reason given, being their shame at the manner of their inglorious return to the city.
Flutes were used at funerals, and it appears that at one time the luxury and pomp of Roman obsequies grew so excessive that a law was passed limiting the number of flute-players on such occasions to ten.
Only at one time did the flute disappear from any public worship, and that was when the worship of Bacchus was introduced into Rome. To this rite the kithara was used; but this worship which was somewhat refined, though jovial, among the Greeks, became among the Romans so debauched and uxorious, that it was soon prohibited by law.
The flute was used in combination with other instruments at times. Apuleius speaks of a concert of flutes, kitharas and chorus, and mentioned its deliciously sweet effect. It was also used as a pitch pipe, to give orators a guide in modulating their voices when addressing an assembly; thus Caius Gracchus always on such occasions, had a slave behind him, whose duty it was to aid him to commence his orations in a proper pitch, and when his voice sank too low, or became too shrill, to call him to better intonation by the sounds of the flute.
Although the flute was the favorite Roman instrument, it was by no means the only one. Trumpets were used to a great extent. A one-toned trumpet of very loud voice, was used for battle signals. These were of very large size, usually of brass, and their sound is described as “terrible.” There was also a smaller, shepherd’s trumpet of mellower tone.
Another much used instrument, of peculiar character, was the sumphonium which did not differ materially from the modern bag-pipe.[63]
Instruments of percussion, were few, and not indigenous to the Romans; such as were used came from the East, and were chiefly used in the worship of Eastern deities, at Rome. When the worship of Bacchus was prohibited, they passed away, with that licentious rite. The most complicated instrument of the ancient world, appeared in Rome during the first century of our era. It was an Organ, not as in the scriptural days a mere syrinx, or Pans-pipes, but an undoubted organ somewhat similar in its effect to our modern instrument.
The instrument is said to have been invented by Ctesebius of Alexandria, in Egypt, who lived about 250 B. C. They did not appear extensively in Rome however, until nearly 300 years later. This organ has given rise to much fruitless discussion. In the field of musical history especially, “a little knowledge” has proved “a dangerous thing,” for where slight descriptions exist of instruments or music, latitude is left for every writer to form his own theory, to fight for it, and denunciate those who differ from it.
We have seen what a battle was fought over the three little manuscripts of Greek music, what a host of differing opinions were held about the Scriptural word “Selah,” and now about this hydraulic organ, each writer mounts his hobby horse, and careers over the field of conjecture. Vitruvius, has given a full description of the instrument from personal inspection, but as his technical terms have lost all significance to modern readers, and have been translated in various ways, and as his work contained no diagrams, or illustrations of the various parts, it is useless.
Some writers[64] imagine the organ to have had seven or eight stops, that is, so many different kinds of tones, which would place them nearly on a par with our own. Others[65] think that they possessed seven or eight keys, that is so many tones only. It has been a point of dispute as to what function the water performed in working it. Vitruvius is rather hazy on this point, saying only that it is “suspended” in the instrument. The water, when the organ was played was in a state of agitation, as if boiling.
There are medals still in existence, which were awarded to victors in organ contests, on which this instrument is represented, with two boys blowing or pumping, but the representation is too small to clear up any doubtful points.
So much is certain, the organs were very powerful in tone, being therefore the instruments best adapted to the large amphitheatres of Rome, and were extremely popular, for it was complained that young men forsook their other studies to learn to play them. The only possibility yet remaining that their construction may be known to us, is in the chance of discovering one in Pompeii.[66]
The functions of music in Rome were similar, though in a less degree, to its uses in Greece. At the sacrifice, the banquet, the contest, and the theatre, music was always an important adjunct. Prophets sometimes inspired themselves by it, as in the east.
There were various games, public and private, at which competition in music took place. But it was not, as in Greece, an art of simplicity and feeling; the love of the extraordinary, the colossal and outre, the desire for the most vulgar modes and excess of obscenity, soon degraded the art from the rude simplicity it possessed in the days of the republic.[67]
This desire for colossal effects was apparent in the Roman games. Seneca says that in Nero’s time, the chorus was more numerous than formerly the whole audience. Hosts of trumpeters, flute-players, etc., crowded the stage. It is also well illustrated in the splendor of the Triumph.
Triumphs were of two kinds, the lesser of which was called Ovatio, and was decreed for unimportant or easily-gained victories.
The grand Triumph (for important victories) was the highest military honor that could be bestowed.
When it had been decreed by the Senate, the victorious General entered Rome by the triumphal gate, where he was met by a procession of the entire Senate; here he gave an oration in praise of the valor of his army, and entering his triumphal chariot, the procession began. The order was as follows:—
Musicians, singing and playing. These were chiefly trumpeters, and the singers chanted triumphal songs.
The Senate and Magistrates.
The animals for the sacrifice, usually oxen, with their horns gilt, and decked with garlands, accompanied by the priests.
Music, flute players, to assist at the sacrificial rites.
Wagons, filled with statues, plate, armor, ensigns, etc., the spoil captured from the enemy.
The tribute from various countries, usually golden crowns, or ornaments sent to grace the occasion.
The captive leaders, kings, or generals, with their wives, in chains.
Lictors with the fasces twined with laurel.
Musicians and dancers dressed as Satyrs, crowned with gold. In the midst of these was a mimic, dressed as a female, who by his performance and gestures, insulted and burlesqued the captives.
Persons sprinkling perfumes.
The victorious general, dressed in purple and gold, crowned with laurel; he was seated in a circular chariot, drawn by four white horses. In his right hand he held a branch of laurel, in his left an ivory sceptre, surmounted by an eagle. His face was painted of a vermilion color, and a golden bulla hung from his neck.
Sometimes the chariot was drawn by elephants.
The children of the victor were allowed to ride with him, and he was attended by many relatives and citizens dressed in white. Behind him stood a slave carrying a richly gemmed crown, whose duty it was to admonish him constantly during the triumph, by whispering in his ear, “Remember that thou art a man.”
The Military Tribunes followed, and the procession closed with,—
The whole army, horse and foot, crowned with laurel, and carrying various ornaments which they had won in the war.
They sang as they marched, the praises of their general, and of their own bravery; but sometimes (for it was a day of license and carnival) they sang the coarsest ribaldry and jokes concerning their leader; thus the army of Julius Cæsar, sang some very personal and vulgar verses about him, at his triumph.
The procession moved from the Porta Triumphalis, along the Via Sacra to the capitol.
All the shops were closed, the temples all open. The buildings along the route were decorated. Stands and scaffoldings were erected for the convenience of spectators. Banquets were spread before every house, to which all comers were welcome. It was in short a perfect carnival, but far exceeding in its proportions that of modern Rome.
When the procession arrived at the Temple of Jupiter at the Capitol, several of the captive leaders were taken from the ranks, and put to death, for ancient Rome was cruel even in her rejoicings; the oxen were also sacrificed, and the wreaths, with which their horns were decorated, were thrown into the lap of Jupiter’s statue.
In the evening there was a grand banquet to the victorious General (Imperator), after which he was escorted to his home with music and song.
Nothing better illustrates the cruel, coarse, and sensual character of Roman music than that employed at such a triumph. Loud trumpet tones, a vile and ungenerous musical pantomime, the sacrificial music, and rude impromptu songs of the soldiery were the chief musical accessories of the greatest popular festival.
In Rome as in ancient Greece there was a school of music, which was devoted to the stage; but it was not held in such high esteem, nor was it the work of the poet to supply it.
In the French operas bouffes of our day we find the libretto and music to be the work of different persons, and in this respect the Roman comedies resembled them, save that while we rank the music above the text, the Romans valued the words far more than the music; but in other respects there was also much resemblance between the Roman tragedies and modern Opera Seria. They divided the music into parts, such as dialogues or duets, solos, and choruses.
Cicero says that a connoisseur could instantly determine by the style of the music alone, what tragedy was being performed; this would indicate an amount of tone-painting, which justifies our comparison of the Roman with the modern stage.
The theatres were, as usual, of immense size. The Emperor Trajan built an Odeum, or music hall, of which Apollodorus was the architect, which was capable of seating twelve thousand spectators. These structures were usually built of stone, and in the most thorough manner; there is however one notable exception to the rule. In the reign of Tiberius an amphitheatre erected by Atilius at Fidenæ, fell in during a gladiatorial contest, and twenty thousand persons lost their lives.[68]
The music of the stage, tended rather to virtuosity than to real beauty, the natural result being, that while Rome possessed many skillful performers, she had no musical composers of eminence.[69] The names of the composers of music to the comedies of Terence and Plautus are still extant, but they seem to have enjoyed no special renown.
Quintilian speaks of the weak and womanish music of the stage, and Martial in satirizing the Gaditanian female singers which were so much sought for in the later days of ancient Rome, says, that it was the surest sign of a fashionable dandy, to hear a young man trilling out the latest Gaditanian ditties.
Many of the theatrical performers and singers were slaves, who were bought for the purpose, and the most stringent and cruel measures were taken to prevent them from ruining their voices by any kind of debauchery. Theatrical factions also existed for this or that singer, in which at times many lives were lost.[70] Laws were afterwards enacted, to guard against such riots.