Myths and Legends of Ancient Greece and Rome 10

Myths and Legends of Ancient Greece and Rome 10

HERMES (MERCURY).

 

Hermes was the swift-footed messenger, and trusted ambassador of all the

gods, and conductor of shades to Hades. He presided over the rearing and

education of {118} the young, and encouraged gymnastic exercises and

athletic pursuits, for which reason, all gymnasiums and wrestling schools

throughout Greece were adorned with his statues. He is said to have

invented the alphabet, and to have taught the art of interpreting foreign

languages, and his versatility, sagacity, and cunning were so

extraordinary, that Zeus invariably chose him as his attendant, when,

disguised as a mortal, he journeyed on earth.

 

Hermes was worshipped as god of eloquence, most probably from the fact

that, in his office as ambassador, this faculty was indispensable to the

successful issue of the negotiations with which he was intrusted. He was

regarded as the god who granted increase and prosperity to flocks and

herds, and, on this account, was worshipped with special veneration by

herdsmen.

 

In ancient times, trade was conducted chiefly by means of the exchange of

cattle. Hermes, therefore, as god of herdsmen, came to be regarded as the

protector of merchants, and, as ready wit and adroitness are valuable

qualities both in buying and selling, he was also looked upon as the patron

of artifice and cunning. Indeed, so deeply was this notion rooted in the

minds of the Greek people, that he was popularly believed to be also god of

thieves, and of all persons who live by their wits.

 

[Illustration]

 

As the patron of commerce, Hermes was naturally supposed to be the promoter

of intercourse among nations; hence, he is essentially the god of

travellers, over whose safety he presided, and he severely punished those

who refused assistance to the lost or weary wayfarer. He was also guardian

of streets and roads, and his statues, called Hermæ (which were pillars of

stone surmounted by a head of Hermes), were placed at cross-roads, and

frequently in streets and public squares.

 

Being the god of all undertakings in which gain was a feature, he was

worshipped as the giver of wealth and {119} good luck, and any unexpected

stroke of fortune was attributed to his influence. He also presided over

the game of dice, in which he is said to have been instructed by Apollo.

 

Hermes was the son of Zeus and Maia, the eldest and most beautiful of the

seven Pleiades (daughters of Atlas), and was born in a cave of Mount

Cyllene in Arcadia. As a mere babe, he exhibited an extraordinary faculty

for cunning and dissimulation; in fact, he was a thief from his cradle,

for, not many hours after his birth, we find him creeping stealthily out of

the cave in which he was born, in order to steal some oxen belonging to his

brother Apollo, who was at this time feeding the flocks of Admetus. But he

had not proceeded very far on his expedition before he found a tortoise,

which he killed, and, stretching seven strings across the empty shell,

invented a lyre, upon which he at once began to play with exquisite skill.

When he had sufficiently amused himself with the instrument, he placed it

in his cradle, and then resumed his journey to Pieria, where the cattle of

Admetus were grazing. Arriving at sunset at his destination, he succeeded

in separating fifty oxen from his brother's herd, which he now drove before

him, taking the precaution to cover his feet with sandals made of twigs of

myrtle, in order to escape detection. But the little rogue was not

unobserved, for the theft had been witnessed by an old shepherd named

Battus, who was tending the flocks of Neleus, king of Pylos (father of

Nestor). Hermes, frightened at being discovered, bribed him with the finest

cow in the herd not to betray him, and Battus promised to keep the secret.

But Hermes, astute as he was dishonest, determined to test the shepherd's

integrity. Feigning to go away, he assumed the form of Admetus, and then

returning to the spot offered the old man two of his best oxen if he would

disclose the author of the theft. The ruse succeeded, for the avaricious

shepherd, unable to resist the tempting bait, gave the desired information,

upon which Hermes, exerting his divine power, changed him into a lump of

touchstone, as a {120} punishment for his treachery and avarice. Hermes now

killed two of the oxen, which he sacrificed to himself and the other gods,

concealing the remainder in the cave. He then carefully extinguished the

fire, and, after throwing his twig shoes into the river Alpheus, returned

to Cyllene.

 

Apollo, by means of his all-seeing power, soon discovered who it was that

had robbed him, and hastening to Cyllene, demanded restitution of his

property. On his complaining to Maia of her son's conduct, she pointed to

the innocent babe then lying, apparently fast asleep, in his cradle,

whereupon, Apollo angrily aroused the pretended sleeper, and charged him

with the theft; but the child stoutly denied all knowledge of it, and so

cleverly did he play his part, that he even inquired in the most naive

manner what sort of animals cows were. Apollo threatened to throw him into

Tartarus if he would not confess the truth, but all to no purpose. At last,

he seized the babe in his arms, and brought him into the presence of his

august father, who was seated in the council chamber of the gods. Zeus

listened to the charge made by Apollo, and then sternly desired Hermes to

say where he had hidden the cattle. The child, who was still in

swaddling-clothes, looked up bravely into his father's face and said, "Now,

do I look capable of driving away a herd of cattle; I, who was only born

yesterday, and whose feet are much too soft and tender to tread in rough

places? Until this moment, I lay in sweet sleep on my mother's bosom, and

have never even crossed the threshold of our dwelling. You know well that I

am not guilty; but, if you wish, I will affirm it by the most solemn

oaths." As the child stood before him, looking the picture of innocence,

Zeus could not refrain from smiling at his cleverness and cunning, but,

being perfectly aware of his guilt, he commanded him to conduct Apollo to

the cave where he had concealed the herd, and Hermes, seeing that further

subterfuge was useless, unhesitatingly obeyed. But when the divine shepherd

was about to drive his cattle back into Pieria, Hermes, as though by

chance, touched the chords of his {121} lyre. Hitherto Apollo had heard

nothing but the music of his own three-stringed lyre and the syrinx, or

Pan's pipe, and, as he listened entranced to the delightful strains of this

new instrument, his longing to possess it became so great, that he gladly

offered the oxen in exchange, promising at the same time, to give Hermes

full dominion over flocks and herds, as well as over horses, and all the

wild animals of the woods and forests. The offer was accepted, and, a

reconciliation being thus effected between the brothers, Hermes became

henceforth god of herdsmen, whilst Apollo devoted himself enthusiastically

to the art of music.

 

[Illustration]

 

They now proceeded together to Olympus, where Apollo introduced Hermes as

his chosen friend and companion, and, having made him swear by the Styx,

that he would never steal his lyre or bow, nor invade his sanctuary at

Delphi, he presented him with the Caduceus, or golden wand. This wand was

surmounted by wings, and on presenting it to Hermes, Apollo informed him

that it possessed the faculty of uniting in love, all beings divided by

hate. Wishing to prove the truth of this assertion, Hermes threw it down

between two snakes which were fighting, whereupon the angry combatants

clasped each other in a loving embrace, and curling round the staff,

remained ever after permanently attached to it. The wand itself typified

power; the serpents, wisdom; and the wings, despatch--all qualities

characteristic of a trustworthy ambassador.

 

The young god was now presented by his father with a winged silver cap

(Petasus), and also with silver wings for his feet (Talaria), and was

forthwith appointed herald of the gods, and conductor of shades to Hades,

which office had hitherto been filled by Aïdes.

 

As messenger of the gods, we find him employed on all occasions requiring

special skill, tact, or despatch. Thus he conducts Hera, Athene, and

Aphrodite to Paris, leads Priam to Achilles to demand the body of Hector,

{122} binds Prometheus to Mount Caucasus, secures Ixion to the eternally

revolving wheel, destroys Argus, the hundred-eyed guardian of Io, &c. &c.

 

As conductor of shades, Hermes was always invoked by the dying to grant

them a safe and speedy passage across the Styx. He also possessed the power

of bringing back departed spirits to the upper world, and was, therefore,

the mediator between the living and the dead.

 

The poets relate many amusing stories of the youthful tricks played by this

mischief-loving god upon the other immortals. For instance, he had the

audacity to extract the Medusa's head from the shield of Athene, which he

playfully attached to the back of Hephæstus; he also stole the girdle of

Aphrodite; deprived Artemis of her arrows, and Ares of his spear, but these

acts were always performed with such graceful dexterity, combined with such

perfect good humour, that even the gods and goddesses he thus provoked,

were fain to pardon him, and he became a universal favourite with them all.

 

It is said that Hermes was one day flying over Athens, when, looking down

into the city, he beheld a number of maidens returning in solemn procession

from the temple of Pallas-Athene. Foremost among them was Herse, the

beautiful daughter of king Cecrops, and Hermes was so struck with her

exceeding loveliness that he determined to seek an interview with her. He

accordingly presented himself at the royal palace, and begged her sister

Agraulos to favour his suit; but, being of an avaricious turn of mind, she

refused to do so without the payment of an enormous sum of money. It did

not take the messenger of the gods long to obtain the means of fulfilling

this condition, and he soon returned with a well-filled purse. But

meanwhile Athene, to punish the cupidity of Agraulos, had caused the demon

of envy to take possession of her, and the consequence was, that, being

unable to contemplate the happiness of her sister, she sat down before the

door, and resolutely refused to allow Hermes to enter. He tried every

persuasion and blandishment in his power, but she still remained obstinate.

At last, his patience {123} being exhausted, he changed her into a mass of

black stone, and, the obstacle to his wishes being removed, he succeeded in

persuading Herse to become his wife.

 

[Illustration]

 

In his statues, Hermes is represented as a beardless youth, with broad

chest and graceful but muscular limbs; the face is handsome and

intelligent, and a genial smile of kindly benevolence plays round the

delicately chiselled lips.

 

As messenger of the gods he wears the Petasus and Talaria, and bears in his

hand the Caduceus or herald's staff.

 

As god of eloquence, he is often represented with chains of gold hanging

from his lips, whilst, as the patron of merchants, he bears a purse in his

hand.

 

The wonderful excavations in Olympia, to which allusion has already been

made, have brought to light an exquisite marble group of Hermes and the

infant Bacchus, by Praxiteles. In this great work of art, Hermes is

represented as a young and handsome man, who is looking down kindly and

affectionately at the child resting on his arm, but unfortunately nothing

remains of the infant save the right hand, which is laid lovingly on the

shoulder of his protector.

 

The sacrifices to Hermes consisted of incense, honey, cakes, pigs, and

especially lambs and young goats. As god of eloquence, the tongues of

animals were sacrificed to him.

 

MERCURY.

 

Mercury was the Roman god of commerce and gain. We find mention of a temple

having been erected to him {124} near the Circus Maximus as early as B.C.

495; and he had also a temple and a sacred fount near the Porta Capena.

Magic powers were ascribed to the latter, and on the festival of Mercury,

which took place on the 25th of May, it was the custom for merchants to

sprinkle themselves and their merchandise with this holy water, in order to

insure large profits from their wares.

 

The Fetiales (Roman priests whose duty it was to act as guardians of the

public faith) refused to recognize the identity of Mercury with Hermes, and

ordered him to be represented with a sacred branch as the emblem of peace,

instead of the Caduceus. In later times, however, he was completely

identified with the Greek Hermes.

 

DIONYSUS (BACCHUS).

 

Dionysus, also called Bacchus (from _bacca_, berry), was the god of wine,

and the personification of the blessings of Nature in general.

 

[Illustration]

 

The worship of this divinity, which is supposed to have been introduced

into Greece from Asia (in all probability from India), first took root in

Thrace, whence it gradually spread into other parts of Greece.

 

Dionysus was the son of Zeus and Semele, and was snatched by Zeus from the

devouring flames in which his mother perished, when he appeared to her in

all the splendour of his divine glory. The motherless child was intrusted

to the charge of Hermes, who conveyed him to Semele's sister, Ino. But

Hera, still implacable in her vengeance, visited Athamas, the husband of

Ino, with madness, {125} and the child's life being no longer safe, he was

transferred to the fostering care of the nymphs of Mount Nysa. An aged

satyr named Silenus, the son of Pan, took upon himself the office of

guardian and preceptor to the young god, who, in his turn, became much

attached to his kind tutor; hence we see Silenus always figuring as one of

the chief personages in the various expeditions of the wine-god.

 

Dionysus passed an innocent and uneventful childhood, roaming through the

woods and forests, surrounded by nymphs, satyrs, and shepherds. During one

of these rambles, he found a fruit growing wild, of a most refreshing and

cooling nature. This was the vine, from which he subsequently learnt to

extract a juice which formed a most exhilarating beverage. After his

companions had partaken freely of it, they felt their whole being pervaded

by an unwonted sense of pleasurable excitement, and gave full vent to their

overflowing exuberance, by shouting, singing, and dancing. Their numbers

were soon swelled by a crowd, eager to taste a beverage productive of such

extraordinary results, and anxious to join in the worship of a divinity to

whom they were indebted for this new enjoyment. Dionysus, on his part,

seeing how agreeably his discovery had affected his immediate followers,

resolved to extend the boon to mankind in general. He saw that wine, used

in moderation, would enable man to enjoy a happier, and more sociable

existence, and that, under its invigorating influence, the sorrowful might,

for a while, forget their grief and the sick their pain. He accordingly

gathered round him his zealous followers, and they set forth on their

travels, planting the vine and teaching its cultivation wherever they went.

 

We now behold Dionysus at the head of a large army composed of men, women,

fauns, and satyrs, all bearing in their hands the Thyrsus (a staff entwined

with vine-branches surmounted by a fir-cone), and clashing together cymbals

and other musical instruments. Seated in a chariot drawn by panthers, and

accompanied by thousands of enthusiastic followers, Dionysus made a

triumphal {126} progress through Syria, Egypt, Arabia, India, &c.,

conquering all before him, founding cities, and establishing on every side

a more civilized and sociable mode of life among the inhabitants of the

various countries through which he passed.

 

When Dionysus returned to Greece from his Eastern expedition, he

encountered great opposition from Lycurgus, king of Thrace, and Pentheus,

king of Thebes. The former, highly disapproving of the wild revels which

attended the worship of the wine-god, drove away his attendants, the nymphs

of Nysa, from that sacred mountain, and so effectually intimidated

Dionysus, that he precipitated himself into the sea, where he was received

into the arms of the ocean-nymph, Thetis. But the impious king bitterly

expiated his sacrilegious conduct. He was punished with the loss of his

reason, and, during one of his mad paroxysms, killed his own son Dryas,

whom he mistook for a vine.

 

Pentheus, king of Thebes, seeing his subjects so completely infatuated by

the riotous worship of this new divinity, and fearing the demoralizing

effects of the unseemly nocturnal orgies held in honour of the wine-god,

strictly prohibited his people from taking any part in the wild

Bacchanalian revels. Anxious to save him from the consequences of his

impiety, Dionysus appeared to him under the form of a youth in the king's

train, and earnestly warned him to desist from his denunciations. But the

well-meant admonition failed in its purpose, for Pentheus only became more

incensed at this interference, and, commanding Dionysus to be cast into

prison, caused the most cruel preparations to be made for his immediate

execution. But the god soon freed himself from his ignoble confinement, for

scarcely had his jailers departed, ere the prison-doors opened of

themselves, and, bursting asunder his iron chains, he escaped to rejoin his

devoted followers.

 

Meanwhile, the mother of the king and her sisters, inspired with

Bacchanalian fury, had repaired to Mount Cithæron, in order to join the

worshippers of the {127} wine-god in those dreadful orgies which were

solemnized exclusively by women, and at which no man was allowed to be

present. Enraged at finding his commands thus openly disregarded by the

members of his own family, Pentheus resolved to witness for himself the

excesses of which he had heard such terrible reports, and for this purpose,

concealed himself behind a tree on Mount Cithæron; but his hiding-place

being discovered, he was dragged out by the half-maddened crew of

Bacchantes and, horrible to relate, he was torn in pieces by his own mother

Agave and her two sisters.

 

An incident which occurred to Dionysus on one of his travels has been a

favourite subject with the classic poets. One day, as some Tyrrhenian

pirates approached the shores of Greece, they beheld Dionysus, in the form

of a beautiful youth, attired in radiant garments. Thinking to secure a

rich prize, they seized him, bound him, and conveyed him on board their

vessel, resolved to carry him with them to Asia and there sell him as a

slave. But the fetters dropped from his limbs, and the pilot, who was the

first to perceive the miracle, called upon his companions to restore the

youth carefully to the spot whence they had taken him, assuring them that

he was a god, and that adverse winds and storms would, in all probability,

result from their impious conduct. But, refusing to part with their

prisoner, they set sail for the open sea. Suddenly, to the alarm of all on

board, the ship stood still, masts and sails were covered with clustering

vines and wreaths of ivy-leaves, streams of fragrant wine inundated the

vessel, and heavenly strains of music were heard around. The terrified

crew, too late repentant, crowded round the pilot for protection, and

entreated him to steer for the shore. But the hour of retribution had

arrived. Dionysus assumed the form of a lion, whilst beside him appeared a

bear, which, with a terrific roar, rushed upon the captain and tore him in

pieces; the sailors, in an agony of terror, leaped overboard, and were

changed into dolphins. The discreet and pious steersman was alone permitted

to escape the fate of his companions, {128} and to him Dionysus, who had

resumed his true form, addressed words of kind and affectionate

encouragement, and announced his name and dignity. They now set sail, and

Dionysus desired the pilot to land him at the island of Naxos, where he

found the lovely Ariadne, daughter of Minos, king of Crete. She had been

abandoned by Theseus on this lonely spot, and, when Dionysus now beheld

her, was lying fast asleep on a rock, worn out with sorrow and weeping.

Wrapt in admiration, the god stood gazing at the beautiful vision before

him, and when she at length unclosed her eyes, he revealed himself to her,

and, in gentle tones, sought to banish her grief. Grateful for his kind

sympathy, coming as it did at a moment when she had deemed herself forsaken

and friendless, she gradually regained her former serenity, and, yielding

to his entreaties, consented to become his wife.

 

Dionysus, having established his worship in various parts of the world,

descended to the realm of shades in search of his ill-fated mother, whom he

conducted to Olympus, where, under the name of Thyone, she was admitted

into the assembly of the immortal gods.

 

Among the most noted worshippers of Dionysus was Midas,[46] the wealthy

king of Phrygia, the same who, as already related, gave judgment against

Apollo. Upon one occasion Silenus, the preceptor and friend of Dionysus,

being in an intoxicated condition, strayed into the rose-gardens of this

monarch, where he was found by some of the king's attendants, who bound him

with roses and conducted him to the presence of their royal master. Midas

treated the aged satyr with the greatest consideration, and, after

entertaining him hospitably for ten days, led him back to Dionysus, who was

so grateful for the kind attention shown to his old friend, that he offered

to grant Midas any favour he chose to demand; whereupon the avaricious

monarch, not content with his boundless wealth, and still thirsting for

more, desired that everything he touched might turn to gold. The request

was {129} complied with in so literal a sense, that the now wretched Midas

bitterly repented his folly and cupidity, for, when the pangs of hunger

assailed him, and he essayed to appease his cravings, the food became gold

ere he could swallow it; as he raised the cup of wine to his parched lips,

the sparkling draught was changed into the metal he had so coveted, and

when at length, wearied and faint, he stretched his aching frame on his

hitherto luxurious couch, this also was transformed into the substance

which had now become the curse of his existence. The despairing king at

last implored the god to take back the fatal gift, and Dionysus, pitying

his unhappy plight, desired him to bathe in the river Pactolus, a small

stream in Lydia, in order to lose the power which had become the bane of

his life. Midas joyfully obeying the injunction, was at once freed from the

consequences of his avaricious demand, and from this time forth the sands

of the river Pactolus have ever contained grains of gold.

 

Representations of Dionysus are of two kinds. According to the earliest

conceptions, he appears as a grave and dignified man in the prime of life;

his countenance is earnest, thoughtful, and benevolent; he wears a full

beard, and is draped from head to foot in the garb of an Eastern monarch.

But the sculptors of a later period represent him as a youth of singular

beauty, though of somewhat effeminate appearance; the __EXPRESSION__ of the

countenance is gentle and winning; the limbs are supple and gracefully

moulded; and the hair, which is adorned by a wreath of vine or ivy leaves,

falls over the shoulders in long curls. In one hand he bears the Thyrsus,

and in the other a drinking-cup with two handles, these being his

distinguishing attributes. He is often represented riding on a panther, or

seated in a chariot drawn by lions, tigers, panthers, or lynxes.

 

Being the god of wine, which is calculated to promote sociability, he

rarely appears alone, but is usually accompanied by Bacchantes, satyrs, and

mountain-nymphs.

 

The finest modern representation of Ariadne is that by Danneker, at

Frankfort-on-the-Maine. In this statue she {130} appears riding on a

panther; the beautiful upturned face inclines slightly over the left

shoulder; the features are regular and finely cut, and a wreath of

ivy-leaves encircles the well-shaped head. With her right hand she

gracefully clasps the folds of drapery which fall away negligently from her

rounded form, whilst the other rests lightly and caressingly on the head of the animal.