sent by the gods to torment a certain Phineus, whom Jupiter had deprived of his sight,
in punishment of his cruelty; and whenever a meal was placed before him, the Harpies
darted down from the air and carried it off. They were driven away from Phineus by
the heroes of the Argonautic expedition, and took refuge in the island where Aeneas
now found them.
When they entered the port the Trojans saw herds of cattle roaming over the
plain. They slew as many as they wished, and prepared for a feast. But no sooner
had they seated themselves at the table, than a horrible clamor was heard in the air,
and a flock of these odious harpies came rushing down upon them, seizing in their
talons the meat from the dishes, and flying away with it Aeneas and his companions
drew their swords and dealt vigorous blows among the monsters, but to no purpose,
for they were so nimble it was almost impossible to hit them, and their feathers were
like armor impenetrable to steel. One of them, perched on a neighboring cliff,
screamed out, "Is it thus, Trojans, you treat us innocent birds, first slaughter our cattle,
and then make war on ourselves?" She then predicted dire sufferings to them in their
future course, and having vented her wrath flew away. The Trojans made haste to
leave the country, and next found themselves coasting along the shore of Epirus.
Here they landed, and to their astonishment learned that certain Trojan exiles, who
had been carried there as prisoners, had become rulers of the country. Andromache,
the widow of Hector, became the wife of one of the victorious Grecian chiefs, to whom
she bore a son. Her husband dying, she was left regent of the country, as guardian of
her son, and had married a fellow-captive, Helenus, of the royal race of Troy. Helenus
and Andromache treated the exiles with the utmost hospitality, and dismissed them
loaded with gifts.
From hence Aeneas coasted along the shore of Sicily, and passed the country of
the Cyclopes. Here they were hailed from the shore by a miserable object, whom by
his garments, tattered as they were, they perceived to be a Greek. He told them he
was one of Ulysses's companions, left behind by that chief in his hurried departure.
He related the story of Ulysses's adventure with Polyphemus, and besought them to
take him off with them, as he had no means of sustaining his existence where he was,
but wild berries and roots, and lived in constant fear of the Cyclopes. While he spoke
Polyphemus made his appearance; a terrible monster, shapeless, vast, whose only
eye had been put out. ^* He walked with cautious steps, feeling his way with a staff,
down to the sea-side, to wash his eye-socket in the waves. When he reached the
water he waded out towards them, and his immense height enabled him to advance
far into the sea, so that the Trojans, in terror, took to their oars to get out of his way.
Hearing the oars, Polyphemus shouted after them, so that the shores resounded, and
at the noise the other Cyclopes came forth from their caves and woods, and lined the
shore, like a row of lofty pine trees. The Trojans plied their oars, and soon left them
out of sight.
[Footnote *: See Proverbial Expressions, page 478]
Aeneas had been cautioned by Helenus to avoid the strait guarded by the
monsters Scylla and Charybdis. There Ulysses, the reader will remember, had lost six
of his men, seized by Scylla, while the navigators were wholly intent upon avoiding
Charybdis. Aeneas following the advice of Helenus shunned the dangerous pass and
coasted along the island of Sicily.
Juno, seeing the Trojans speeding their way prosperously towards their destined
shore, felt her old grudge against them revive, for she could not forget the slight that
Paris had put upon her, in awarding the prize of beauty to another. In heavenly minds
can such resentments dwell! ^* Accordingly she hastened to Aeolus, the ruler of the
winds, - the same who supplied Ulysses with favoring gales, giving him the contrary
ones tied up in a bag. Aeolus obeyed the goddess and sent forth his sons, Boreas,
Typhon and the other winds, to toss the ocean. A terrible storm ensued, and the
Trojan ships were driven out of their course towards the coast of Africa. They were in
imminent danger of being wrecked, and were separated, so that Aeneas thought that
all were lost except his own.
[Footnote *: See Proverbial Expressions, page 478]
At this crisis, Neptune, hearing the storm raging, and knowing that he had given
no orders for one, raised his head above the waves, and saw the fleet of Aeneas
driving before the gale. Knowing the hostility of Juno, he was at no loss to account for
it, but his anger was not the less at this interference in his province. He called the
winds, and dismissed them with a severe reprimand. He then soothed the waves, and
brushed away the clouds from before the face of the sun. Some of the ships which
had got on the rocks, he pried off with his own trident, while Triton and a sea-nymph,
putting their shoulders under others, set them afloat again. The Trojans, when the sea
became calm, sought the nearest shore, which was the coast of Carthage, where
Aeneas was so happy as to find that one by one the ships all arrived safe, though
badly shaken.
Waller, in his Panegyric to the Lord Protector, (Cromwell,) alludes to this stilling
of the storm by Neptune: -
"Above the waves, as Neptune showed his face,
To chide the winds and save the Trojan race,
So has your Highness, raised above the rest,
Storms of ambition tossing us repressed."
Dido.
Carthage, where the exiles had now arrived, was a spot on the coast of Africa
opposite Sicily, where at that time a Tyrian colony under Dido their queen, were laying
the foundations of a state destined in later ages to be the rival of Rome itself. Dido was
the daughter of Belus, king of Tyre, and sister of Pygmalion who succeeded his father on
the throne. Her husband was Sichaeus, a man of immense wealth, but Pygmalion, who
coveted his treasures, caused him to be put to death. Dido, with a numerous body of
friends and followers, both men and women, succeeded in effecting their escape from
Tyre, in several vessels, carrying with them the treasures of Sichaeus. On arriving at the
spot which they selected as the seat of their future home, they asked of the natives only
so much land as they could enclose with a bull's hide. When this was readily granted,
she caused the hide to be cut into strips, and with them enclosed a spot on which she
built a citadel, and called it Byrsa, (a hide.) Around this fort the city of Carthage rose, and
soon became a powerful and flourishing place.
Such was the state of affairs when Aeneas with his Trojans arrived there. Dido
received the illustrious exiles with friendliness and hospitality. "Not unacquainted with
distress," she said, "I have learned to succor the unfortunate." ^* The queen's hospitality
displayed itself in festivities at which games of strength and skill were exhibited. The
strangers contended for the palm with her own subjects, on equal terms, the queen
declaring that whether the victor were "Trojan or Tyrian should make no difference to
her."* At the feast which followed the games, Aeneas
gave at her request a recital of the
closing events of the Trojan history and his own adventures after the fall of the city. Dido
was charmed with his discourse and filled with admiration of his exploits. She conceived
an ardent passion for him, and he for his part seemed well content to accept the
fortunate chance which appeared to offer him at once a happy termination of his
wanderings, a home, a kingdom, and a bride. Months rolled away in the enjoyment of
pleasant intercourse, and it seemed as if Italy and the empire destined to be founded on
its shores were alike forgotten. Seeing which, Jupiter despatched Mercury with a
message to Aeneas recalling him to a sense of his high destiny, and commanding him to
resume his voyage.
[Footnote *: See Proverbial Expressions, pp. 478, 479.]
Aeneas parted from Dido, though she tried every allurement and persuasion to
detain him. The blow to her affection and her pride was too much for her to endure, and
when she found that he was gone, she mounted a funeral pile which she had caused to
be prepared, and having stabbed herself was consumed with the pile. The flames rising
over the city were seen by the departing Trojans, and though the cause was unknown,
gave to Aeneas some intimation of the fatal event.
The following epigram we find in Elegant Extracts: -
From the Latin.
"Unhappy, Dido, was thy fate
In first and second married state!
One husband caused thy flight by dying,
Thy death the other caused by flying."
Palinurus.
After touching at the island of Sicily, where Acestes, a prince of Trojan lineage,
bore sway, who gave them a hospitable reception, the Trojans reembarked, and held on
their course for Italy. Venus now interceded with Neptune to allow her son at last to
attain the wished-for goal and find an end of his perils on the deep. Neptune consented
stipulating only for one life as a ransom for the rest. The victim was Palinurus, the pilot.
As he sat watching the stars, with his hand on the helm, Somnus sent by Neptune
approached in the guise of Phorbas and said, "Palinurus, the breeze is fair, the water
smooth, and the ship sails steadily on her course. Lie down a while and take needful
rest. I will stand at the helm in your place." Palinurus replied, "Tell me not of smooth
seas or favoring winds, - me who have seen so much of their treachery. Shall I trust
Aeneas to the chances of the weather and the winds?" And he continued to grasp the
helm and to keep his eyes fixed on the stars. But Somnus waved over him a branch
moistened with Lethaean dew, and his eyes closed in spite of all his efforts. Then
Somnus pushed him overboard and he fell; but keeping his hold upon the helm, it came
away with him. Neptune was mindful of his promise and kept the ship on her track
without helm or pilot, till Aeneas discovered his loss, and sorrowing deeply for his faithful
steersman took charge of the ship himself.
There is a beautiful allusion to the story of Palinurus in Scott's Marmion,
Introduction to Canto I., where the poet, speaking of the recent death of William Pitt,
says, -
"O, think how, to his latest day,
When death just hovering claimed his prey,
With Palinure's unaltered mood,
Firm at his dangerous post he stood;
Each call for needful rest repelled,
With dying hand the rudder held,
Till in his fall, with fateful sway,
The steerage of the realm gave way."
The ships at last reached the shores of Italy, and joyfully did the adventures leap
to land. While his people were employed in making their encampment Aeneas sought
the abode of the Sibyl. It was a cave connected with a temple and grove, sacred to
Apollo and Diana. While Aeneas contemplated the scene, the Sibyl accosted him. She
seemed to know his errand, and under the influence of the deity of the place, burst forth
in a prophetic strain, giving dark intimations of labors and perils through which he was
destined to make his way to final success. She closed with the encouraging words
which have become proverbial: - "Yield not to disasters, but press onward the more
bravely." ^* Aeneas replied that he had prepared himself for whatever might await him.
He had but one request to make. Having been directed in a dream to seek the abode of
the dead in order to confer with his father Anchises to receive from him a revelation of
his future fortunes and those of his race, he asked her assistance to enable him to
accomplish the task. The Sibyl replied, "The descent to Avernus is easy; the gate of
Pluto stands open night and day; but to retrace one's steps and return to the upper air,
that is the toil, that the difficulty.* She instructed him to seek in the forest a tree on which
grew a golden branch. This branch was to be plucked off and borne as a gift to
Proserpine, and if fate was propitious it would yield to the hand and quit its parent trunk,
but otherwise no force could rend it away. If torn away another would succeed.*
[Footnote *: See Proverbial Expressions, page 479.]
Aeneas followed the directions of the Sibyl. His mother Venus sent two of her
doves to fly before him and show him the way, and by their assistance he found the tree,
plucked the branch, and hastened back with it to the Sibyl.
Chapter XXXII: The Infernal Regions - The Sibyl
The Infernal Regions.
As at the commencement of our series we have given the pagan account of the
creation of the world, so as we approach its conclusion, we present a view of the
regions of the dead, depicted by one of their most enlightened poets, who drew his
doctrines from their most esteemed philosophers. The region where Virgil locates the
entrance into this abode, is perhaps the most strikingly adapted to excite ideas of the
terrific and preternatural of any on the face of the earth. It is the volcanic region near
Vesuvius, where the whole country is cleft with chasms from which sulphurous flames
arise, while the ground is shaken with pent-up vapors, and mysterious sounds issue
from the bowels of the earth. The lake Avernus is supposed to fill the crater of an
extinct volcano. It is circular, half a mile wide, and very deep, surrounded by high
banks, which in Virgil's time were covered with a gloomy forest. Mephitic vapors rise
from its waters, so that no life is found on its banks, and no birds fly over it. Here,
according to the poet, was the cave which afforded access to the infernal regions, and
here Aeneas offered sacrifices to the infernal deities, Proserpine, Hecate, and the
Furies. Then a roaring was heard in the earth, the woods on the hill-tops were shaken,
and the howling of dogs announced the approach of the deities. "Now," said the Sibyl,
"summon up your courage, for you will need it." She descended into the cave, and
Aeneas followed. Before the threshold of hell they passed through a group of beings
who are enumerated as Griefs and avenging Cares, pale Diseases and melancholy
Age, Fear and Hunger that tempt to crime, Toil, Poverty, and Death, forms horrible to
view. The Furies spread their couches there, and Discord, whose hair was of vipers
tied up with a bloody fillet. Here also were the monsters, Briareus with his hundred
arms, Hydras hissing, and Chim
aeras breathing fire. Aeneas shuddered at the sight,
drew his sword and would have struck, but the Sibyl restrained him. They then came
to the black river Cocytus, where they found the ferryman, Charon, old and squalid, but
strong and vigorous, who was receiving passengers of all kinds into his boat,
magnanimous heroes, boys and unmarried girls, as numerous as the leaves that fall at
autumn, or the flocks that fly southward at the approach of winter. They stood
pressing for a passage and longing to touch the opposite shore. But the stern
ferryman took in only such as he chose, driving the rest back. Aeneas, wondering at
the sight, asked the Sibyl, "Why this discrimination?" She answered, "Those who are
taken on board the bark are the souls of those who have received due burial rites; the
host of others who have remained unburied, are not permitted to pass the flood, but
wander a hundred years, and flit to and fro about the shore, till at last they are taken
over." Aeneas grieved at recollecting some of his own companions who had perished
in the storm. At that moment he beheld Palinurus, his pilot, who fell overboard and
was drowned. He addressed him and asked him the cause of his misfortune.
Palinurus replied that the rudder was carried away, and he clinging to it was swept
away with it. He besought Aeneas most urgently to extend to him his hand and take
him in company to the opposite shore. But the Sibyl rebuked him for the wish thus to
transgress the laws of Pluto; but consoled him by informing him that the people of the
shore where his body had been wafted by the waves, should be stirred up by prodigies
to give it due burial, and that the promontory should bear the name of Cape Palinurus,
which it does to this day. Leaving Palinurus consoled by these words, they
approached the boat. Charon, fixing his eyes sternly upon the advancing warrior,
demanded by what right he, living and armed, approached that shore. To which the
Sibyl replied that they would commit no violence, that Aeneas's only object was to see
Age of Fable or Beauties of Mythology Page 33