by Pliny the Younger (61 – c. 113 CE), Epistula 7.27
Today, for Halloween, we are simply presenting the most famous ghost story from classical antiquity: Pliny the Younger’s tale of a haunted house in Athens. Pliny includes this story in a letter (epistula) to his friend Sura, saying that he heard the tale, found it interesting, and is now wondering whether his friend believes in ghosts (Pliny himself is not entirely sure what to think). This tale, from 2,000 years ago, contains all the basic elements of a typical haunted house story.
In Athens there was a large and roomy house, but it had a bad reputation and an unhealthy air. Through the silence of the night you could hear the sound of metal clashing and, if you listened more closely, you could make out the clanking of chains, first from far off, then from close by. Soon there appeared a phantom: an old man, emaciated and filthy, with a long beard and unkempt hair. He wore shackles on his legs and chains on his wrists, shaking them as he walked. And so the inhabitants of this house spent many dreadful nights lying awake in fear. Illness and eventually death overtook them through lack of sleep and their increasing dread. For even when the ghost was absent, the memory of that horrible apparition preyed on their minds, and their fear itself lasted longer than the initial cause of that fear. Eventually the house was deserted and condemned to solitude, left entirely to the ghost. But the house was advertised, in case someone unaware of the evil should wish to buy or rent it.
Then the philosopher Athenodorus came to Athens. He read the advertisement, and when he heard the low price was suspicious and made some inquiries. He soon learned the whole story and, far from being deterred, was that much more interested in renting the place. At dusk, he requested a bed for himself to be set up in the front of the house, and asked for some small writing tablets, a stylus, and a lamp. He sent all his servants to the back of the house and then concentrated on his writing, lest an unoccupied mind produce foolish fears and cause him to imagine he saw the ghost he had already heard so much about.
At first, as usual, there was only the night silence. Then came the sound of iron clashing, of chains clanking; yet Athenodorus did not raise his eyes or stop writing. Instead he concentrated his attention on his work. Then the din grew even louder: now it was at the threshold—now it was inside the room with him! Athenodorus turned, saw, and recognized the ghost. It was standing there, beckoning to him with its finger as if calling to him. Rather than answering the summons, he motioned with his hand that the ghost should wait a while, and he turned back to his writing (!). The ghost continued rattling its chains right over the philosopher’s head. Athenodorus looked around again: sure enough, the ghost was still there, beckoning as before.
With no further delay, the philosopher picked up his lamp and followed the phantom. The specter walked very slowly, as if weighted down by the chains. Then it walked to the courtyard of the house and suddenly vanished, abandoning its comrade. Athenodorus, now alone, plucked some grass and leaves to mark the spot where the ghost had disappeared. In the morning he went to the local magistrates and advised that they order the spot to be excavated, which they did. Bones were found, entwined with chains—bones that the body, rotted by time and earth, had left bare and corroded by the iron.
These bones were gathered and given a public burial. After these rites had been performed, the house was no longer troubled by spirits.
What do you think of this story—its plot, its ghost, and Athenodorus? What elements from 2,000 years ago are still common in modern haunted house stories? Would you like to read more ghost stories from ancient Greece and Rome? There are quite a lot—stories of ghosts, witches, werewolves, and more. We just decide to post our absolute favorite.