Age of Fable or Beauties of Mythology

by Thomas Bulfinch

  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