Greek Mythology, page 3
Orpheus
Orpheus was born near Dion in Pimpleia, a village with which he kept close ties throughout his life. His mother was Calliope, the eldest of the Muses. Some said his father was Apollo, others that it was King Oeagrus, the son of Pieros (whose daughters were punished by the Muses). Orpheus’ musicianship was legendary. The fifth-century BC poet Timotheus tells that he introduced the lyre to Pieria, where his playing was so fine and his voice so sweet that (in Euripides’ words): ‘Deep in the deep forest folds of Olympus, Orpheus magicked the trees with his music, magicked the wild forest beasts with his music.’ Everything that heard him followed him: trees, boulders, animals. Even mountain streams changed their course so they could listen to his singing; and in the Thracian land of the Cicones the wood nymph Eurydice (‘Wide Justice’) fell in love with him. Enraptured, the two married. But soon disaster struck. While Eurydice was picking flowers and weaving garlands with her fellow nymphs, she disturbed a sleeping snake. It bit her on the ankle and within moments she was dead. Grief stricken, Orpheus sang such heart-rending laments that all nature mourned with him. At last, when they could bear his anguish no longer, the Muses suggested to Orpheus that he should travel to the Underworld and beg Haides to return Eurydice to life.
Setting fear aside, Orpheus descended deep beneath the earth until he met the savage guard-dog of Hades, the three-headed Cerberus. Softly Orpheus soothed it with a gentle lullaby; and soon he was standing in the presence of King Haides. Here he sang his tearful elegy, pouring out his love for his lost wife, begging Haides to restore her to life – she had been so young. His music touched the hardest heart. The ghosts of criminals condemned to everlasting tortures swooned to hear it; the icy hearts of savage Furies melted; and even Haides was moved to compassion. He agreed to Orpheus’ request. On one condition – that on the way home he must go ahead, not looking round until both reached the upper earth. As Orpheus walked on, he heard Eurydice’s light footsteps close behind him. At last faint sunlight could be seen. But now Orpheus stopped and listened. Nothing. How could he be certain that Eurydice was following? Impulsively, he looked round. And there she was, a sad smile on her lips, as (true to Haides’ orders) she turned and left him. And the darkness engulfed her.
For Orpheus life was meaningless. All he could do was sing of his lost Eurydice. But still his music was irresistible. Everywhere he went, women fell in love with him. At last at Dion – crazed with desire – they clawed and tore at him hysterically, until their passion faded and they found that they had ripped him limb from limb. Some said that Orpheus was rent apart not from desire, but because he worshipped Apollo and neglected Dionysus. So, Dionysus jealously unleashed his maenads (his female followers), who attacked Orpheus at sunrise on a mountaintop. Still others told that Orpheus was killed by Zeus’ thunderbolt.
The Muses collected his remains and performed the last rites over them at Dion. A few miles from the city on the road towards Olympus, Pausanias saw a pillar topped by a stone urn, which (locals said) contained Orpheus’ bones. Pausanias wrote, too, that at Dion the women who killed Orpheus ran to the River Helicon to wash off his blood. But as they neared, the river in revulsion sank into the ground so that it might not be complicit in the murder. Today, where it sank, there is a small idyllic lake. Only Orpheus’ head survived his mutilation. Still singing, it was carried by the waves to Lesbos, where it was buried with great veneration. The Muses took Orpheus’ lyre to Mount Olympus, where the gods transformed it into a constellation.
Still clutching his lyre, Orpheus is attacked by frenzied female devotees, one wielding a spit, the other a rock. (Attic red figure vase, c. 640 BC.)
In antiquity, a collection of hymns and teachings attributed to Orpheus formed the basis of a mystic religion (Orphism), whose adherents believed in the survival and transmigration of the soul after death.
Dion & Olympus in History & Today
Imbued with great sanctity, the peaks of Olympus were probably taboo throughout antiquity. We hear of no attempts to scale them. As for Dion, as one of the most sacred sites in the kingdom of Macedonia, it rose to prominence under its ruler Archelaus I in the late fifth century BC. A century before, to compete at the Olympic Games, Alexander I of Macedon had been forced to prove his Greek credentials by claiming descent from Heracles and the kings of Argos. Now, Archelaus turned Dion into a sanctuary as fine as any in the Greek world. He erected a temple to Zeus, a stadium and a theatre, and established the ‘Olympia’, a festival of athletics and drama sacred to Zeus and the Muses. Here may have been performed the (lost) Archelaus by Euripides (who as an old man joined the king’s court). His Bacchae and Iphigenia in Aulis were perhaps intended for Dion’s theatre, too.
In the fourth century BC Philip II staged magnificent ceremonies at Dion in celebration of victory. His own relationship with the gods was complex. In 336 BC, during his marriage celebrations, he caused statues of the twelve Olympians to be paraded in the theatre at nearby Aegae – joined by a thirteenth: of himself. It was an act other Greeks would have regarded as hubris. So they would not have been surprised when moments later Philip was assassinated.
In 334 BC, before his invasion of Persia, Philip’s son Alexander held a lavish festival with games and sacrifices at Dion. Near the theatre he erected a magnificent tent housing a hundred banqueting couches, where he entertained his generals. Later that year after victory at Granicus he ordered a bronze statue group by Lysippus to be installed at Dion to commemorate the twenty-five cavalrymen who had fallen in battle. In 332/331 BC, Alexander claimed to have learned from the oracle at Siwah in Egypt that he was the son of Zeus – and thus the half-brother of Dionysus and Heracles. In subsequent campaigns he caused the Olympian gods to be worshipped as far away as India. On the banks of the Hyphasis he erected twelve tall altars – one for each god – but wisely none for himself.
In 220 BC, Aetolian Greeks allied to Rome ransacked Dion, but it was soon rebuilt by King Philip V. It was from Dion that this Philip marched south to his defeat at the hands of the Romans at Cynoscephalae in 197 BC and that, in 168 BC, King Perseus marched north to be defeated by Rome’s Lucius Aemilius Paulus at Pydna. In Rome itself the Olympians quickly became identified and syncretized with Roman gods, preserving (if subtly altering) Greek religion and mythology, which then spread north and west as far as Britain.
In 31 BC Dion became a Roman colony, growing into an important and thriving town. By AD 346 it was the seat of a bishop, but in AD 393 the Christian emperor Theodosius’ decree banning pagan religion dealt a heavy blow – followed three years later by Dion’s sack by Alaric the Goth. Earthquakes and floods did much further damage, and soon Dion was abandoned.
In 1806 the site was discovered by the Englishman William Leake, but only in 1928 was the first real investigation undertaken. One of the most significant discoveries (made in 1992) forges an exciting link with Dion’s association with the Muses. In the Roman ‘Villa of Dionysus’ the pipes from a first-century BC hydraulis (water organ) were found, part of the world’s oldest surviving keyboard instrument.
Dion
SOME IMPORTANT DATES & REMAINS
c. 500 BC
Evidence of worship in Dion’s ‘megaron-type’ temples.
c. 413 BC
Dion becomes a major sanctuary and walled city under Archelaus I.
? c. 407 BC
Euripides’ Archelaus performed in Dion’s theatre?
348 BC
Philip II’s celebrations for victory over Olynthus.
338 BC
Philip II’s celebrations for victory at Chaeronea.
334 BC
Alexander the Great sacrifices before invading Persia.
220 BC
Dion sacked by Aeolian Greeks, but soon rebuilt.
31 BC
Dion becomes a Roman colony.
AD 396
Alaric the Goth sacks Dion.
AD 1806
Dion ‘discovered’ by William Leake.
Dion lies just off the E75 motorway south of Katerini in northeast Greece. A pleasant road passes through vineyards in the lee of Mount Olympus, which towers to a height of 2,919 m (9,576 ft).
The beautifully laid out archaeological park lies close to the modern village. From the ticket office the path leads past the sacred lake (right) to crossroads. Ahead are ‘megaron-type’ sanctuaries of Demeter. The right fork leads first to the (heavily reconstructed) theatre, then across the meadow (where Alexander pitched his tent) towards (right) the Sanctuary of Olympian Zeus with remains of its 22-m (72-ft) long limestone altar, the site of ancient hecatombs (sacrifices of 100 oxen). Nearby are remains of a Roman odeon. Partially retracing one’s steps but continuing straight on, one comes first to the Sanctuary of Zeus Hypsistos (Zeus the Highest), with its altar and temple, originally approached through an avenue of columns topped with marble eagles. Nearby across the river is the partially submerged Sanctuary of Isis. From here the path leads across the modern road and through the city walls into the (partially excavated) city itself. Working clockwise, it leads past Public Baths and an Early Christian Basilica before crossing the impressive ‘Main Avenue’ (site of a fine Roman façade bearing carvings of shields and breastplates) to the remains of large villas, including the Villa of Dionysus.
In the village, the Archaeological Museum houses finds from the site, including pipes from the hydraulis, mosaics, a sundial, and remains of a statue of Isis and the statue of Zeus Hypsistos.
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Sunium: Poseidon’s Cliff-Top Temple
With the great god Poseidon I start my song, who shakes both the earth and the barren sea, the sea-god, who rules Helicon and the broad expanse of Aegae. The gods have given you a double honour, great Earth-shaker: to tame horses and save ships. Greetings, Poseidon, dark-haired Earth-keeper! Come with kindness, Blessèd One, and save our sailors!
Homeric Hymn to Poseidon
A fifth-century BC bronze statue of Poseidon wielding his (now lost) trident was discovered in the sea north of Sunium.
High on the headland, serene in the sinking sun, the temple beckons like a siren to the sea. As the slanting light pours through the slender columns, their marble gleaming like fresh-churned butter, it diffuses in a creamy golden glow, while across the polished rock cool shadows elongate, their fingers stretching to caress the still warm stone. Only the sudden clattering and clucking of two partridges scurrying across the temple steps disturbs the calm – a calm made more hypnotic by the rhythm of the sea below, long rollers rubbing in against the rocks to flatline in a whisper of white spray. On the velvet of the sea the sun burns, its intense light dazzling in myriad refractions. And far on the horizon, islands arc like dolphins in the haze: the northern Cyclades, tantalizing with their promise of the open seas beyond. No wonder, then, that it was to the sea-god that the headland here at Sunium was sacred or that the temple was erected in his name: the master of horses, the shaker of the earth, Poseidon.
The Realm of Poseidon
In the division of spoils between the sons of Cronus, Poseidon received the sea. Just as Zeus could command the thunder clouds, sending lightning bolts to crash down to earth, so Poseidon could summon earthquakes, causing solid land to roll and ripple like the sea. Perhaps it was because he was associated with such bucking, undulating motion that Poseidon acquired his third sphere of influence: the horse.
Poseidon ruled the sea’s salt waters (though not Ocean, the freshwater river encircling the earth) from an underwater palace. Traditionally this was situated north of Sunium, between the mainland and the northwest Euboean town of Aegae, which in historical times boasted a temple to the god, and after which Strabo maintained that the Aegean Sea was named. Homer describes Poseidon’s palace:
Gold, gleaming, everlasting. Here Poseidon came and harnessed to his chariot his two swift bronze-hooved horses with long golden manes. Dressed all in gold, he took a golden whip, fine-crafted, in his hand and stepped into the chariot and left to drive across the sea-swell. From far and wide the creatures of the sea came from their lairs to frolic round the king they knew so well. In joy the sea parted as he went. So the horses sped lightly on their way, and the bronze axle was unwetted.
As they read this description, Greeks almost certainly imagined Poseidon wielding his trident, the three-pronged spear that some Mediterranean fishermen still use today, and by which he is invariably identified in Classical art.
The Loves & Cities of Poseidon
Poseidon married the sea-nymph Amphitrite, but their courtship was unconventional. Some say that Poseidon abducted Amphitrite when he saw her dancing with the Nereids near Naxos; others that the nymph, reluctant, fled east to seek sanctuary with Atlas. But Poseidon sent a dolphin to plead with her and such was its success that the gods created a constellation in its memory. Poseidon’s passion for his wife did not prevent him from straying, however, and his love-affairs were legion.
Among over a hundred lovers of both sexes, whose status ranged from gods to mortals and everything between, were Gaia (on whom he fathered the whirlpool Charybdis), and the Olympian goddesses Aphrodite and Demeter (his sister). Like many of Poseidon’s conquests, Demeter was unwilling to succumb to his advances, so she shape-shifted into a mare and hid among the herds of Oncius, king of Arcadia. Her disguise was ill thought out. The god of horses, Poseidon tracked her down, changed himself into a stallion and covered her. Thus Demeter was delivered of two children: a goddess-daughter, Despoina (‘Mistress’), who presided over rituals known as the Arcadian Mysteries, and an immortal black horse, Arion, swift as the wind and possessed of the power of speech.
Lesser goddesses and nymphs, too, attracted Poseidon’s eye, often with unhappy consequences. Two were daughters of a fellow sea-god, Phorcys. When Amphitrite learned of her husband’s dalliance with one, the lovely Scylla, she took vengeance by dissolving noxious herbs into the pool in which her rival habitually bathed. As Scylla sank into the water, she felt her body change. Though still a beautiful woman from the waist up, from her hips six dogs’ heads now protruded on long necks, their jaws bristling with triple rows of teeth, while beneath them twelve dogs’ legs dangled down beside a fishy tail. Devastated, Scylla took up residence in a cave above a narrow strait, where she devoted her existence to destroying sailors. (Other accounts blame Scylla’s transformation on the witch Circe, who was jealous of the lesser sea-god, Glaucus.)
Another of Phorcys’ daughters was the beautiful sea-nymph Medusa. When Poseidon raped her in a temple of Athene, Athene was outraged. Unable to vent her anger on Poseidon, she turned its full force on Medusa, transforming her into a gross monster with boar’s-tusk teeth and writhing snakes instead of hair – and piercing eyes, which turned all who looked at her to stone. In addition, Athene prevented Medusa from giving birth. It was only when she was decapitated by Perseus, the prince from Argos, that Medusa was at last delivered of Poseidon’s two children: a giant, Chrysaor, and the winged horse, Pegasus.
Cities, too, caused Poseidon and Athene to quarrel. They reluctantly shared the northeast Peloponnesian town of Troezen, but when Athens was awarded as a prize to Athene, Poseidon in pique flooded the nearby Thriasian Plain, and only Zeus’ intervention restored the situation.
Poseidon was equally unsuccessful – and consequently vengeful – in his dealings with other cities. Cheated of his rightful prize for building Troy, he sent a sea-monster to devour the daughter of its king, Laomedon; and when Argos was awarded to Hera, Poseidon, unpredictable as ever, caused its rivers, which once flowed throughout the year, to dry up in the summer (as they still do to this day). Contesting Corinth, he again failed to secure a total victory. He was forced to concede Acrocorinth to Helios, though he won the lower city and the port of Isthmia, where close to his temple the two-yearly Isthmian Games were held in his honour. In antiquity only two cities were named for Poseidon: Potidea in northern Greece and Poseidonia in southwest Italy, known today by its Roman name, Paestum.
Some say it was from Sunium’s cliffs that King Aegeus watched daily for Theseus’ ship to return from Knossos, hoping to see the white sail, the agreed sign that his son’s quest to kill the Minotaur had been successful. When, instead, he saw a black sail (left in place by a forgetful Theseus), the grief-stricken Aegeus threw himself into the sea, which ever since has borne his name, Aegean (a more common explanation than Strabo’s). Later, Sunium was the scene of another death. In the Odyssey, King Nestor of Pylos, tells how, as the Greek fleet returned from sacking Troy:
We came to holy Sunium, the headland of Athens. Here Phoebus Apollo with his gentle arrows slew Menelaus’ helmsman, as he gripped in his hands the steering-oar of his swift ship – Phrontis, the son of Onetor, who surpassed all tribes of men in steering when storm winds blew in fury. Despite his impatience to be on his way, Menelaus stayed there to conduct a funeral for his companion and perform the proper rites.
Sunium in History & Today
Because of its position at the southernmost tip of Attica, Cape Sunium was of great strategic and symbolic importance to the Athenians. Herodotus tells how, by the beginning of the fifth century BC (when a temple was being built on the headland), a four-yearly ceremony was held in which a sacred ship sailed round the coast from Athens to Sunium. We have no further details, and would know nothing of the celebrations had not the islanders of Aegina (in 490 BC) ‘lain in wait for the sacred ship and seized it with many of the leading men of Athens on board, whom they took and bound in chains’. Shortly afterwards, the Athenians took vengeance of a sort, when they allowed a boatload of Aeginetan exiles to settle at Sunium, from where they launched piratical raids on their native island.
