Greek Mythology, page 16
The two were taken to the mountain. But before the sacrifice could be performed, their mother Nephele intervened. She sent a winged ram with a golden fleece to rescue them. The siblings climbed on to its back and it launched into the air. As it soared east across the Aegean, Helle grew tired, her grip slackened and she plunged into the sea. In her memory the Greeks called the strait where she fell the Hellespont (Helle’s Sea, the modern Dardanelles). Still carrying Phrixus, the ram reached the Black Sea’s furthest shores. Here, on lush plains watered by the River Phasis and bordered to the north by the snowy Caucasus mountains, King Aeëtes, son of Helios and brother of the enchantress Circe, ruled Colchis (modern Georgia). Hospitably he welcomed Phrixus, and together they sacrificed the ram and hung its golden fleece high in a tree, setting a sleepless serpent to guard over it.
Back in Greece, Hera drove Athamas and Ino mad. Believing his son Learches to be a white stag, Athamas shot him. And in a vain attempt to save Melicertes, Ino leapt into the sea with him, where she was transformed into Leucothea (the White Goddess), who helped sailors in times of trouble. Homer describes her beautiful ankles.
The Voyage of the Argo Begins
To sail to Colchis, Jason commissioned a ship, the Argo, named after its builder, Argus, who constructed it from pine trees felled on Pelion, while Athene fitted to its prow a talking plank, cut from the sacred oak at Dodona. For his crew (the Argonauts, ‘Argo Sailors’) Jason assembled the bravest heroes of his age. Most sources agree that they included Castor and Polydeuces from Sparta, Meleager from Calydon, Zetes and Calaïs, sons of the North Wind, Iphitus, the brother of Tiryns’ King Eurystheus, Pelias’ son Acastus, Orpheus, and Heracles, who – although the bravest of them all – conceded the captaincy to Jason.
The Argo first called at Lemnos, where it was greeted by a hostile army. Tensions were diffused when its leader, Queen Hypsipyle (‘High Gates’), revealed the reason for her nervousness. The Lemnians had neglected their wives, complaining of their body odour, and conducted affairs with mainland girls. In consequence, Hypsipyle said, the women drove them into exile (in fact they murdered them). Finding their hostesses distinctly aromatic, the Argonauts enthusiastically embraced them, and in time Lemnos resounded to the mewls of newborn babies. Even Jason was reluctant to depart, but at last Heracles dragged the crew back to the Argo.
Through the Hellespont they sailed to the southern shores of the Propontis Sea, where the king of Cyzicus welcomed them to his wedding feast. Then resuming their journey, the Argonauts rounded a broad headland, before a storm forced them in to land. In the darkness they were attacked, and a bloody battle left many of their assailants dead. When the weather cleared they discovered the truth. Cyzicus was built on an isthmus, and they had been driven on to its far shore; the attackers were their friends of days before and the newly married king was among the fallen. In grief his young bride hanged herself. Mourning their error, the Argonauts returned to their rowing benches and continued east.
A Boxing King, Harpies & the Clashing Rocks
Not all the Argonauts were destined to reach Colchis. When Heracles’ oar snapped, they put ashore to let him uproot a tree and make another. But when it was time to sail they discovered that Heracles’ friend (or lover) Hylas had not returned from fetching water. Heracles set out to find him, but despite scouring the countryside he failed. Loath to sacrifice the breeze, but with Heracles refusing to abandon Hylas, the Argonauts set off without them. Hylas was never found – a lovesick nymph had drawn him down into her pool, where she kept him to herself forever.
Despite Heracles’ absence, the Argonauts managed to defeat a savage king, Amycus, who challenged all comers to a brutal boxing match. Leaving him for dead, they sailed safely through the treacherous Bosphorus, before landing at Salmydessus on the east coast of the Black Sea (modern Kıyıköy, called in medieval times ‘Medea’). Here lived Phineas, originally a Theban prophet, whom the gods punished for revealing more than was permitted. Not only was he blind, but he was plagued by Harpies – loathsome creatures, half-bird, half-woman. Whenever Phineas tried to eat, they plunged from the sky, screeching and flapping their huge wings, snatching his food and defecating prodigiously over anything they failed to grab.
When Jason sought his advice, Phineas announced that he would help only if the Argonauts chased off the Harpies. So they laid out a mouth-watering banquet. At once the Harpies swooped down. Swiftly, Calaïs and Zetes, sons of the North Wind, drew their swords and soared into the sky, slicing and lunging. Terrified, the Harpies fled squawking west, with Calaïs and Zetes flying in hot pursuit, until they came to the Ionian Sea. Here the brothers left them, turned (so giving the nearby islands their name, ‘Strophades’, ‘Turning Place’) and flew back to the Argo.
The delighted Phineas first feasted, then gave Jason good advice: the Symplegades (‘Clashing Rocks’) were high cliffs on each side of a narrow strait through which the Argo must sail. Not anchored to the earth, at any ship’s approach they crashed together like a pair of cymbals, smashing the vessel and killing its crew. Phineas recommended that they send a dove ahead between the rocks and see how it fared. If it survived, so would the Argo.
As they approached the Symplegades, dull blue in morning mist, they released the bird. At once the cliffs slammed tight together in a spume of icy water – but, with just a few trapped tail feathers, the dove soared free. Immediately the crew strained at their oars, and the ship sped forward. Soon the wet crags loomed above them, motionless at first, but then with increasing momentum rushing relentlessly towards them. With a sickening crunch they slammed together – too late to harm the Argo. Apart from a few stern planks, the ship was safe thanks to the crew’s efforts and Athene’s aid, for the goddess had pledged to help Jason whenever he was in danger. The Symplegades now stayed rooted to the spot, never to move again, and the Argo sped on to Colchis.
At last the Argo nosed into the broad estuary of the Phasis. Next morning, as Apollonius of Rhodes describes, Jason and a few companions set off for the palace:
They left the river and the ship, where it was hidden among tall reeds, stepped on to the shore and made their way on to the plain, which is named the Plain of Circe. Here are planted many rows of osiers and willow trees, and tied with ropes on to their topmost branches corpses hang suspended.
Met by Aeëtes and his family at the palace, they explained why they had come. Aeëtes was furious, and only just stopped himself from leaping up and killing them. Instead, he struck a bargain, setting Jason a task which he was confident the Greek would not survive.
Aeëtes possessed two bronze-hoofed, fire-breathing bulls. Each morning he yoked them and ploughed a four-acre field, then sowed it with dragon’s teeth – and when angry armed men rose from the furrows he fought against this earth-born army until by evening all the warriors were dead. If Jason took his place and proved his worth, Aeëtes would give him the fleece. Fearing that to do so would mean his death, Jason accepted the challenge.
Jason & Medea
But Aphrodite was on Jason’s side, and already she had worked her magic. Aeëtes’ daughter Medea was a witch with the power to destroy her enemies. But now she was consumed by love. Hesiod says she was ‘bashful-eyed’ as she gazed at Jason; Apollonius describes her ‘lifting her veil to look at Jason with her slanting eyes, her heart on fire with suffering, and, as he left, her spirit slunk from her and fluttered after him, as if it were a dream’; while in a passage recalling real Greek magic Pindar has Aphrodite teaching Jason occult spells to woo Medea:
The queen of the most deadly arrows, Cyprus-born Aphrodite, bound a wryneck woodpecker fast to a four-spoked wheel (the first time that mankind had seen the maddening bird) and taught the clever Jason charms and incantations, to coax Medea to forget her parents and burn with desire for Greece, lashed by Persuasion’s goad.
Torn between respecting her parents and saving Jason, Medea crept out to the temple of Hecate, goddess of the dead, to mix a magic salve. Here, guided by the gods, Jason met her. Hurriedly Medea told him what to do: he must sacrifice a sheep to Hecate at midnight before smearing the salve over his body and his weapons to render him invulnerable. When the armed men sprang from the furrows, he should throw a boulder into their midst to make them fight not Jason but each other.
As he listened to Medea’s words, Jason fell in love with her. If he survived, he promised he would take her back to Iolcus and marry her, so she would be the envy of all Greece, a goddess among women. Medea ardently accepted, and, in Pindar’s coy words, ‘they willingly agreed to join with one another in sweet union’.
Encouraged by Athene an oddly puny Jason steals the golden fleece while the serpent hisses fiercely. (Attic red figure vase, possibly c. 470–460 BC.)
Thanks to Medea’s potion and advice Jason completed Aeëtes’ challenges unscathed, but the king refused to honour his bargain and plotted the Argonauts’ destruction. Medea discovered his intentions. Apollonius vividly describes her running from the palace, barefoot, down narrow alleyways, with one hand keeping her veil close to her face lest anyone recognize her, and lifting up her dress with the other so she could run faster. Reaching the Argo, she urged the crew to row with all speed to the sacred grove and steal the fleece.
Jason and Medea jumped ashore and made for the oak tree, where they saw the fleece already glowing in the light of the rising sun. But they saw too the sleepless serpent’s yellow eyes. And now it was upon them, rearing its head, drool dripping from its fangs. Undeterred, Medea sang a soft enchanting lullaby and sprinkled a soporific drug on the monster’s head. Its heavy eyelids closed; its neck drooped to the ground; it slept. Clutching the fleece, Jason and Medea fled back to the Argo. The crew cast off and, as dawn broke, they bent keenly to their oars and the ship sped out across the glassy calm of the Black Sea.
Brother-Killing & the Voyage Home
Alerted, Aeëtes ran to the shore, ordering his men to launch his fleet in pursuit of the pirates who had stolen his daughter and the fleece. At last, near the Black Sea’s western shores the distance between them grew so narrow that it seemed the Colchians would overtake the Argo. In desperation Medea seized her brother, Apsyrtus (whom she had smuggled aboard), killed him, cut up his body and scattered the pieces into the sea. When Aeëtes saw the fingers, feet, chopped arms and head bobbing on the waves, he commanded his men to stop and collect the remains. He buried them on the shore and founded a city, naming it Tomi (‘temno’ means ‘I cut’) in his dismembered son’s memory.
The Argonauts’ route home excited much debate among ancient authors. Some traced a passage north up the Danube, then south down the River Rhone, and far to the west and lands associated with death. Their adventures paralleled some of Odysseus’ on his journey home to Ithaca. Thus the Argonauts visited Circe, who purified them of Apsyrtus’ murder; the Sirens’ rock, where Orpheus saved the crew by singing more sweetly than the enchantresses; and Crete, where they defeated the bronze giant Talos by removing a pin from his ankle so that blood-like molten lead drained out and Talos crashed dying to the shore.
Returning to Iolcus, Jason presented Pelias with the golden fleece (which harboured Phrixus’ ghost). But Pelias refused to hand over the throne. Again Medea intervened. Some say that Aeson was already dead – persuaded by Pelias that Jason’s mission had failed, he had drunk bull’s blood and killed himself. Others maintain he was still alive, the frailest of old men, and that Medea restored him to youth. Chanting spells, she first slit Aeson’s throat, then placed his body in a boiling cauldron, into which she poured a magic brew. Out stepped a comely youth: Aeson, robust once more and in the springtime of his life. Those who claim that Aeson was already dead say that Medea achieved the same results with an old ram.
Pelias’ daughters, eager to make their father young again, begged Medea’s help. She promised that if they slit Pelias’ throat, she would perform the magic. The girls did as commanded, but Medea, triumphant, would not fulfil her promise. The people blamed the foreign princess for their king’s death, rising as one to exile Jason and Medea. Far away in Corinth their love affair ended in violence. In Iolcus, Pelias’ son Acastus (himself an Argonaut) claimed the throne.
The Wedding of Peleus & Thetis
Peleus, a prince from Phthia, further south on the Gulf of Pagasae, was another of the Argonauts. Acastus’ wife, Cretheis, fell in love with him and, when he rebuffed her, accused him of rape. Rather than executing him, Acastus took Peleus hunting on Mount Pelion, hoping to find an excuse to kill him. In fierce competition, the two bagged a prodigious haul, but at sunset, to provoke a fight, Acastus claimed all Peleus’ trophies as his own. Peleus protested. He had cut out all his victims’ tongues and now exhibited them as evidence. After an uneasy banquet, Peleus fell asleep. When he awoke Acastus had disappeared, taking Peleus’ weapons, and now a herd of Centaurs was surrounding him, hungry for revenge for the carnage of the day before. Only just in time Cheiron galloped up and diffused the situation.
Cheiron knew that Zeus wished Peleus to marry the sea-nymph, Thetis. (The only reason Zeus had not slept with her himself was that Thetis’ son was destined to be stronger than his father.) But Thetis was unwilling to mate with a mere mortal, and when Peleus found her basking in a cave she did her utmost to resist him, turning herself first into fire, then water, a serpent, a lion and a cuttlefish. Peleus clung to her until Thetis conceded defeat.
Their marriage was celebrated near Cheiron’s cave. It was a lavish ceremony. The Muses sang, the Nereids danced and the Centaurs watched in wonder. But as the festivities reached their peak, an icy chill descended. Dressed all in black a figure stalked into the glade. It was Eris, goddess of strife, whom Peleus had forgotten to invite. Now she exacted vengeance. Taking a golden apple from beneath her cloak, she rolled it across the dancing floor. Then, wordlessly, she turned and strode away.
The battle between the Centaurs and Lapiths formed the subject matter for metopes on the south side of the fifth-century BC Parthenon at Athens.
The apple bore an inscription: ‘for the most beautiful’. Now every woman, nymph or goddess claimed it for her own and the feast degenerated into acrimony. Only after many years would the apple find an owner, when Zeus commanded Paris to make a judgment on Mount Ida, the consequence of which would be the fall of Troy.
The Battle of the Centaurs & Lapiths
Another wedding in a cave on Mount Pelion had dire repercussions for the Centaurs, when Peirithous (son of Zeus and Ixion’s wife Dia), ruler of the Lapiths, married Hippodameia (‘Horse-Breaker’). Peirithous was a friend of Theseus, the king of Athens, and shared many of his adventures, including the Calydonian boar hunt. So it was natural for Theseus to be Peirithous’ best man. Most of the gods attended, as well as local dignitaries and many of Peirithous’ Centaur cousins.
Wine flowed freely – which, for the normally abstemious Centaurs, was a disaster. Quickly drunk, they behaved like beasts. One tried to abduct Hippodameia; others assaulted wives of other guests. Theseus and the Lapiths sprang to Peirithous’ aid; Centaurs tore up trees as weapons or hurled boulders at their hosts. It was a ghastly brawl leaving many dead, but the Lapiths were victorious.
Afterwards the Centaurs, alienated from their neighbours, left Pelion forever. Some wandered west to the high Pindus mountains; others, including Cheiron, trekked south to the Peloponnese, where a sad remnant again suffered the dire consequences of drink when Pholus entertained Heracles with a vintage skin of wine. Driven wild by its bouquet, the Centaurs stampeded, and Heracles was forced to protect himself by shooting them with his poisoned arrows. Not one Centaur survived.
Alcestis
Marriages made at or near Iolcus seemed doomed to disaster. Years earlier Admetus, the king of Pherae a few miles inland, had sought the hand of Pelias’ daughter, Alcestis. Pelias set the suitor a seemingly impossible test: to yoke a lion and boar to his chariot and drive it round the hippodrome in Iolcus. Helped by Apollo and Heracles, Admetus succeeded, but in his rush he forgot to sacrifice to Artemis. When he approached his marriage bed he found that it contained a nest of serpents. Terrified, he prayed to Apollo to avert Artemis’ anger, and it was a mark of the god’s love that he succeeded. Moreover, Apollo agreed that, when the time came for Admetus to die, he would be spared if one of his family sacrificed themselves on his behalf.
Soon afterwards Hermes, who conveys dead souls to Hades, arrived at Pherae to announce Admetus’ death. Frantically Admetus tried to find a surrogate to die instead of him, but only Alcestis agreed. Amidst bitter lamentations, the queen took her own life, while, left lonely and alive, Admetus was racked with self-blame. Euripides’ Alcestis tells how Heracles agreed to help. At the funeral, Heracles confronts Death, rescues Alcestis and leads her, veiled, back to Admetus; without revealing her identity, he bids him take her as his wife. Admetus is indignant, but at last the truth is revealed. Death has returned Alcestis; love has triumphed; and one myth at least has a happy ending.
Iolcus in History & Today
The Mycenaean site at Dimini near Volos was first excavated at the end of the twentieth century. As a town and palace – the only Mycenaean palace in Thessaly – served by major roads, its importance soon became apparent. Finds of high-status imports from Syria and Asia Minor confirmed Dimini’s strong trading links, allowing archaeologists to identify it as mythological Iolcus. Dimini’s history stretches back much further. In the early fifth millennium BC a thriving Late Neolithic city was built on the hilltop above what was then an inlet on the north coast of the Gulf of Pagasae. The settlement shows signs of contact with Sesklo, an even earlier agricultural town a few miles to the west, founded around 6500 BC, at its height supporting around 3,000 people. Dimini was perhaps a coastal colony of Sesklo. For four hundred years the two were occupied simultaneously, until Sesklo was abandoned around 4400 BC.
Back in Greece, Hera drove Athamas and Ino mad. Believing his son Learches to be a white stag, Athamas shot him. And in a vain attempt to save Melicertes, Ino leapt into the sea with him, where she was transformed into Leucothea (the White Goddess), who helped sailors in times of trouble. Homer describes her beautiful ankles.
The Voyage of the Argo Begins
To sail to Colchis, Jason commissioned a ship, the Argo, named after its builder, Argus, who constructed it from pine trees felled on Pelion, while Athene fitted to its prow a talking plank, cut from the sacred oak at Dodona. For his crew (the Argonauts, ‘Argo Sailors’) Jason assembled the bravest heroes of his age. Most sources agree that they included Castor and Polydeuces from Sparta, Meleager from Calydon, Zetes and Calaïs, sons of the North Wind, Iphitus, the brother of Tiryns’ King Eurystheus, Pelias’ son Acastus, Orpheus, and Heracles, who – although the bravest of them all – conceded the captaincy to Jason.
The Argo first called at Lemnos, where it was greeted by a hostile army. Tensions were diffused when its leader, Queen Hypsipyle (‘High Gates’), revealed the reason for her nervousness. The Lemnians had neglected their wives, complaining of their body odour, and conducted affairs with mainland girls. In consequence, Hypsipyle said, the women drove them into exile (in fact they murdered them). Finding their hostesses distinctly aromatic, the Argonauts enthusiastically embraced them, and in time Lemnos resounded to the mewls of newborn babies. Even Jason was reluctant to depart, but at last Heracles dragged the crew back to the Argo.
Through the Hellespont they sailed to the southern shores of the Propontis Sea, where the king of Cyzicus welcomed them to his wedding feast. Then resuming their journey, the Argonauts rounded a broad headland, before a storm forced them in to land. In the darkness they were attacked, and a bloody battle left many of their assailants dead. When the weather cleared they discovered the truth. Cyzicus was built on an isthmus, and they had been driven on to its far shore; the attackers were their friends of days before and the newly married king was among the fallen. In grief his young bride hanged herself. Mourning their error, the Argonauts returned to their rowing benches and continued east.
A Boxing King, Harpies & the Clashing Rocks
Not all the Argonauts were destined to reach Colchis. When Heracles’ oar snapped, they put ashore to let him uproot a tree and make another. But when it was time to sail they discovered that Heracles’ friend (or lover) Hylas had not returned from fetching water. Heracles set out to find him, but despite scouring the countryside he failed. Loath to sacrifice the breeze, but with Heracles refusing to abandon Hylas, the Argonauts set off without them. Hylas was never found – a lovesick nymph had drawn him down into her pool, where she kept him to herself forever.
Despite Heracles’ absence, the Argonauts managed to defeat a savage king, Amycus, who challenged all comers to a brutal boxing match. Leaving him for dead, they sailed safely through the treacherous Bosphorus, before landing at Salmydessus on the east coast of the Black Sea (modern Kıyıköy, called in medieval times ‘Medea’). Here lived Phineas, originally a Theban prophet, whom the gods punished for revealing more than was permitted. Not only was he blind, but he was plagued by Harpies – loathsome creatures, half-bird, half-woman. Whenever Phineas tried to eat, they plunged from the sky, screeching and flapping their huge wings, snatching his food and defecating prodigiously over anything they failed to grab.
When Jason sought his advice, Phineas announced that he would help only if the Argonauts chased off the Harpies. So they laid out a mouth-watering banquet. At once the Harpies swooped down. Swiftly, Calaïs and Zetes, sons of the North Wind, drew their swords and soared into the sky, slicing and lunging. Terrified, the Harpies fled squawking west, with Calaïs and Zetes flying in hot pursuit, until they came to the Ionian Sea. Here the brothers left them, turned (so giving the nearby islands their name, ‘Strophades’, ‘Turning Place’) and flew back to the Argo.
The delighted Phineas first feasted, then gave Jason good advice: the Symplegades (‘Clashing Rocks’) were high cliffs on each side of a narrow strait through which the Argo must sail. Not anchored to the earth, at any ship’s approach they crashed together like a pair of cymbals, smashing the vessel and killing its crew. Phineas recommended that they send a dove ahead between the rocks and see how it fared. If it survived, so would the Argo.
As they approached the Symplegades, dull blue in morning mist, they released the bird. At once the cliffs slammed tight together in a spume of icy water – but, with just a few trapped tail feathers, the dove soared free. Immediately the crew strained at their oars, and the ship sped forward. Soon the wet crags loomed above them, motionless at first, but then with increasing momentum rushing relentlessly towards them. With a sickening crunch they slammed together – too late to harm the Argo. Apart from a few stern planks, the ship was safe thanks to the crew’s efforts and Athene’s aid, for the goddess had pledged to help Jason whenever he was in danger. The Symplegades now stayed rooted to the spot, never to move again, and the Argo sped on to Colchis.
At last the Argo nosed into the broad estuary of the Phasis. Next morning, as Apollonius of Rhodes describes, Jason and a few companions set off for the palace:
They left the river and the ship, where it was hidden among tall reeds, stepped on to the shore and made their way on to the plain, which is named the Plain of Circe. Here are planted many rows of osiers and willow trees, and tied with ropes on to their topmost branches corpses hang suspended.
Met by Aeëtes and his family at the palace, they explained why they had come. Aeëtes was furious, and only just stopped himself from leaping up and killing them. Instead, he struck a bargain, setting Jason a task which he was confident the Greek would not survive.
Aeëtes possessed two bronze-hoofed, fire-breathing bulls. Each morning he yoked them and ploughed a four-acre field, then sowed it with dragon’s teeth – and when angry armed men rose from the furrows he fought against this earth-born army until by evening all the warriors were dead. If Jason took his place and proved his worth, Aeëtes would give him the fleece. Fearing that to do so would mean his death, Jason accepted the challenge.
Jason & Medea
But Aphrodite was on Jason’s side, and already she had worked her magic. Aeëtes’ daughter Medea was a witch with the power to destroy her enemies. But now she was consumed by love. Hesiod says she was ‘bashful-eyed’ as she gazed at Jason; Apollonius describes her ‘lifting her veil to look at Jason with her slanting eyes, her heart on fire with suffering, and, as he left, her spirit slunk from her and fluttered after him, as if it were a dream’; while in a passage recalling real Greek magic Pindar has Aphrodite teaching Jason occult spells to woo Medea:
The queen of the most deadly arrows, Cyprus-born Aphrodite, bound a wryneck woodpecker fast to a four-spoked wheel (the first time that mankind had seen the maddening bird) and taught the clever Jason charms and incantations, to coax Medea to forget her parents and burn with desire for Greece, lashed by Persuasion’s goad.
Torn between respecting her parents and saving Jason, Medea crept out to the temple of Hecate, goddess of the dead, to mix a magic salve. Here, guided by the gods, Jason met her. Hurriedly Medea told him what to do: he must sacrifice a sheep to Hecate at midnight before smearing the salve over his body and his weapons to render him invulnerable. When the armed men sprang from the furrows, he should throw a boulder into their midst to make them fight not Jason but each other.
As he listened to Medea’s words, Jason fell in love with her. If he survived, he promised he would take her back to Iolcus and marry her, so she would be the envy of all Greece, a goddess among women. Medea ardently accepted, and, in Pindar’s coy words, ‘they willingly agreed to join with one another in sweet union’.
Encouraged by Athene an oddly puny Jason steals the golden fleece while the serpent hisses fiercely. (Attic red figure vase, possibly c. 470–460 BC.)
Thanks to Medea’s potion and advice Jason completed Aeëtes’ challenges unscathed, but the king refused to honour his bargain and plotted the Argonauts’ destruction. Medea discovered his intentions. Apollonius vividly describes her running from the palace, barefoot, down narrow alleyways, with one hand keeping her veil close to her face lest anyone recognize her, and lifting up her dress with the other so she could run faster. Reaching the Argo, she urged the crew to row with all speed to the sacred grove and steal the fleece.
Jason and Medea jumped ashore and made for the oak tree, where they saw the fleece already glowing in the light of the rising sun. But they saw too the sleepless serpent’s yellow eyes. And now it was upon them, rearing its head, drool dripping from its fangs. Undeterred, Medea sang a soft enchanting lullaby and sprinkled a soporific drug on the monster’s head. Its heavy eyelids closed; its neck drooped to the ground; it slept. Clutching the fleece, Jason and Medea fled back to the Argo. The crew cast off and, as dawn broke, they bent keenly to their oars and the ship sped out across the glassy calm of the Black Sea.
Brother-Killing & the Voyage Home
Alerted, Aeëtes ran to the shore, ordering his men to launch his fleet in pursuit of the pirates who had stolen his daughter and the fleece. At last, near the Black Sea’s western shores the distance between them grew so narrow that it seemed the Colchians would overtake the Argo. In desperation Medea seized her brother, Apsyrtus (whom she had smuggled aboard), killed him, cut up his body and scattered the pieces into the sea. When Aeëtes saw the fingers, feet, chopped arms and head bobbing on the waves, he commanded his men to stop and collect the remains. He buried them on the shore and founded a city, naming it Tomi (‘temno’ means ‘I cut’) in his dismembered son’s memory.
The Argonauts’ route home excited much debate among ancient authors. Some traced a passage north up the Danube, then south down the River Rhone, and far to the west and lands associated with death. Their adventures paralleled some of Odysseus’ on his journey home to Ithaca. Thus the Argonauts visited Circe, who purified them of Apsyrtus’ murder; the Sirens’ rock, where Orpheus saved the crew by singing more sweetly than the enchantresses; and Crete, where they defeated the bronze giant Talos by removing a pin from his ankle so that blood-like molten lead drained out and Talos crashed dying to the shore.
Returning to Iolcus, Jason presented Pelias with the golden fleece (which harboured Phrixus’ ghost). But Pelias refused to hand over the throne. Again Medea intervened. Some say that Aeson was already dead – persuaded by Pelias that Jason’s mission had failed, he had drunk bull’s blood and killed himself. Others maintain he was still alive, the frailest of old men, and that Medea restored him to youth. Chanting spells, she first slit Aeson’s throat, then placed his body in a boiling cauldron, into which she poured a magic brew. Out stepped a comely youth: Aeson, robust once more and in the springtime of his life. Those who claim that Aeson was already dead say that Medea achieved the same results with an old ram.
Pelias’ daughters, eager to make their father young again, begged Medea’s help. She promised that if they slit Pelias’ throat, she would perform the magic. The girls did as commanded, but Medea, triumphant, would not fulfil her promise. The people blamed the foreign princess for their king’s death, rising as one to exile Jason and Medea. Far away in Corinth their love affair ended in violence. In Iolcus, Pelias’ son Acastus (himself an Argonaut) claimed the throne.
The Wedding of Peleus & Thetis
Peleus, a prince from Phthia, further south on the Gulf of Pagasae, was another of the Argonauts. Acastus’ wife, Cretheis, fell in love with him and, when he rebuffed her, accused him of rape. Rather than executing him, Acastus took Peleus hunting on Mount Pelion, hoping to find an excuse to kill him. In fierce competition, the two bagged a prodigious haul, but at sunset, to provoke a fight, Acastus claimed all Peleus’ trophies as his own. Peleus protested. He had cut out all his victims’ tongues and now exhibited them as evidence. After an uneasy banquet, Peleus fell asleep. When he awoke Acastus had disappeared, taking Peleus’ weapons, and now a herd of Centaurs was surrounding him, hungry for revenge for the carnage of the day before. Only just in time Cheiron galloped up and diffused the situation.
Cheiron knew that Zeus wished Peleus to marry the sea-nymph, Thetis. (The only reason Zeus had not slept with her himself was that Thetis’ son was destined to be stronger than his father.) But Thetis was unwilling to mate with a mere mortal, and when Peleus found her basking in a cave she did her utmost to resist him, turning herself first into fire, then water, a serpent, a lion and a cuttlefish. Peleus clung to her until Thetis conceded defeat.
Their marriage was celebrated near Cheiron’s cave. It was a lavish ceremony. The Muses sang, the Nereids danced and the Centaurs watched in wonder. But as the festivities reached their peak, an icy chill descended. Dressed all in black a figure stalked into the glade. It was Eris, goddess of strife, whom Peleus had forgotten to invite. Now she exacted vengeance. Taking a golden apple from beneath her cloak, she rolled it across the dancing floor. Then, wordlessly, she turned and strode away.
The battle between the Centaurs and Lapiths formed the subject matter for metopes on the south side of the fifth-century BC Parthenon at Athens.
The apple bore an inscription: ‘for the most beautiful’. Now every woman, nymph or goddess claimed it for her own and the feast degenerated into acrimony. Only after many years would the apple find an owner, when Zeus commanded Paris to make a judgment on Mount Ida, the consequence of which would be the fall of Troy.
The Battle of the Centaurs & Lapiths
Another wedding in a cave on Mount Pelion had dire repercussions for the Centaurs, when Peirithous (son of Zeus and Ixion’s wife Dia), ruler of the Lapiths, married Hippodameia (‘Horse-Breaker’). Peirithous was a friend of Theseus, the king of Athens, and shared many of his adventures, including the Calydonian boar hunt. So it was natural for Theseus to be Peirithous’ best man. Most of the gods attended, as well as local dignitaries and many of Peirithous’ Centaur cousins.
Wine flowed freely – which, for the normally abstemious Centaurs, was a disaster. Quickly drunk, they behaved like beasts. One tried to abduct Hippodameia; others assaulted wives of other guests. Theseus and the Lapiths sprang to Peirithous’ aid; Centaurs tore up trees as weapons or hurled boulders at their hosts. It was a ghastly brawl leaving many dead, but the Lapiths were victorious.
Afterwards the Centaurs, alienated from their neighbours, left Pelion forever. Some wandered west to the high Pindus mountains; others, including Cheiron, trekked south to the Peloponnese, where a sad remnant again suffered the dire consequences of drink when Pholus entertained Heracles with a vintage skin of wine. Driven wild by its bouquet, the Centaurs stampeded, and Heracles was forced to protect himself by shooting them with his poisoned arrows. Not one Centaur survived.
Alcestis
Marriages made at or near Iolcus seemed doomed to disaster. Years earlier Admetus, the king of Pherae a few miles inland, had sought the hand of Pelias’ daughter, Alcestis. Pelias set the suitor a seemingly impossible test: to yoke a lion and boar to his chariot and drive it round the hippodrome in Iolcus. Helped by Apollo and Heracles, Admetus succeeded, but in his rush he forgot to sacrifice to Artemis. When he approached his marriage bed he found that it contained a nest of serpents. Terrified, he prayed to Apollo to avert Artemis’ anger, and it was a mark of the god’s love that he succeeded. Moreover, Apollo agreed that, when the time came for Admetus to die, he would be spared if one of his family sacrificed themselves on his behalf.
Soon afterwards Hermes, who conveys dead souls to Hades, arrived at Pherae to announce Admetus’ death. Frantically Admetus tried to find a surrogate to die instead of him, but only Alcestis agreed. Amidst bitter lamentations, the queen took her own life, while, left lonely and alive, Admetus was racked with self-blame. Euripides’ Alcestis tells how Heracles agreed to help. At the funeral, Heracles confronts Death, rescues Alcestis and leads her, veiled, back to Admetus; without revealing her identity, he bids him take her as his wife. Admetus is indignant, but at last the truth is revealed. Death has returned Alcestis; love has triumphed; and one myth at least has a happy ending.
Iolcus in History & Today
The Mycenaean site at Dimini near Volos was first excavated at the end of the twentieth century. As a town and palace – the only Mycenaean palace in Thessaly – served by major roads, its importance soon became apparent. Finds of high-status imports from Syria and Asia Minor confirmed Dimini’s strong trading links, allowing archaeologists to identify it as mythological Iolcus. Dimini’s history stretches back much further. In the early fifth millennium BC a thriving Late Neolithic city was built on the hilltop above what was then an inlet on the north coast of the Gulf of Pagasae. The settlement shows signs of contact with Sesklo, an even earlier agricultural town a few miles to the west, founded around 6500 BC, at its height supporting around 3,000 people. Dimini was perhaps a coastal colony of Sesklo. For four hundred years the two were occupied simultaneously, until Sesklo was abandoned around 4400 BC.
