Antinoos and Hadrian

by R G Berube

  The following two days were filled with various ordained services performed by the Archon to commemorate specific historical events that had become a part of the whole, throughout the centuries. They were, in part, social and political.

  The 19th of September marked the beginning of the Great Procession to Eleusis. Pilgrims set out from the Eleusinion, considered connected to the Sanctuary at Eleusis and sacred, it stood on the east side of the stone-paved Panathenaic Way between the rocks below the Propylaea of the Acropolis. From this point the long procession was led by the image of the god Iacchus, carried on the backs of penitents. Everyone was made to wear a wreath of myrtle and to each was given a rod made of woven branches which symbolized the Mysteries.

  There were many stops at sanctuaries along the Sacred Way and at each, the initiates sang hymns. When they reached Lake Koumoundouros, not far from the intended destination, each initiate had his left foot and right hand bound with a heavy, yellow woolen thread in the belief that this would cause all infections to disappear.

  At the place where a Roman bridge crossed the river Kephissus, we were accosted as tradition imposed, by Eleusians draped in sheets. This even had deep significance. The purpose of the imposed insults was to

  instill a sense of humility to those who wrought themselves important, and to allow opportunity to reveal certain truths about each initiate that nobody would dare to mention at any other time. No retribution could be taken by any of the insulted. Even kings and lords, if partaking of the rites, were no beyond reproach.

  I had been prepared for this by Hadrian, who had warned me that in spite of the fact that he was, for the most part, admired by the Greeks, still there would be some who would use the opportunity to show their disapproval.

  "Keep your head held high, Antinoos! Look ahead and show no anger. They will be especially hard on you, I think."

  "But are they allowed to say these things to the Emperor?"

  "Especially to the Emperor! The Eleusians have had this privilege for longer than anyone can recall. It is one thought to be good. Great men have suffered their insults and jokes without being the worse for it. As a public figure you must become accustomed to hearing much that may hurt you."

  The bridge was narrow and we had to cross one by one, thereby isolating each initiate to direct abuse. Hadrian escaped with a few innuendos questioning his masculinity and especially his proclivity for sweet youths. I did not escape so lightly. My accosters were youths who had apparently taken objection to my relationship, seeing themselves less accorded perhaps, certainly feeling some resentments for their lowered status. Although I had not given any cause to the Greeks to me as pompous. They called out my name and added to it the Greek appendage that signified the female gender. Some mimicked girlish ways, drawing loud laughs of approval. One lad had himself painted like a Persian, with tinted lips and rouged cheeks. His hair, obviously a wig, was curled and piled high atop his head to resemble a lowly courtesan. I was called by a number of names that stung me deeply, and wondered how this form of abuse could be honored in such a solemn event.

  My face blistered with rage and my tongue ached to respond. I had to hold my hand at one point, to avoid striking out at one lad who had leaned close, his face almost touching mine as he spat obscenities. The ritual had gone beyond the realm of jest and play! With will I slowly moved through them, not showing anxiety or fear.

  "You did yourself proud, Antinoos," Hadrian smiled at me as we passed beyond the bridge. "They purposely intensified their insults with intention of seeing the kind of mettle of which you are made."

  "This was not just jest," I said, not believing the words I had heard as being anything other than revelation of what they thought of me.

  "Am I what they think I am?"

  He gazed at me with compassionate eyes. "You are what you believe yourself to be! Look at your heart and listen to your inner voice, Antinoos. Only then will you know yourself and no other man can make you less!"

  Easy for you to say, I thought. You have come to know your own power and worth! I held my tongue and took his offered hand.

  Night had fallen and in torch-light we reached the sacred city of Eleusis. Collecting together at the well where legend has the goddess Demeter refreshing herself at the end of her long wanderings, Eleusian maidens performed a lovely dance that spoke of the lonely souls seeking succor from the gods as they wandered about the world; unable to find peace or rest until they came to understand that those reliefs lay hidden in their own beings. A pantomime of movement told of the need, in each of us, to release our worldly attachments in order to experience a death of liberation. I was moved deeply by the dancers and the theme.

  Daytime hours of the 20th and 21st were given over to quiet and deep meditation. Little movement could be seen in the streets of Eleusis, save the inn-keepers and other tradesmen who took the opportunity to restock stores. No food was taken until the hour after sunset, and then only a light repast eaten on the evening of the 20th, when the initiates were called to the sacrifice of the Great Bull, by the Archon.

  There, a young man of the goddess' guard of honor offered the animal and there also, we were offered pieces of bread broken from large loaves. From a special cup, the cymbus, we drank a sacred potion and took communion all together.

  There followed the event held in the spacious and mystical Telesterion, a cave-like structure that held a large number of initiates. We entered slowly, passing singularly through the portal and I immediately felt the acute atmosphere of the place.

  "Hold steady, Antinoos."

  Hadrian touched my arm reassuringly. "Remember, no matter what you see here, no matter what you hear, keep your mind focused entirely on the far wall. You will see an emblem near the ceiling. Do not take your eyes from it no matter how much you may believe yourself to be in another place!"

  His words breathed fear and muscles tightened to a knot in my stomach.

  There is no more that I may disclose. All that happened that fateful night can be summed in a singular word. Liberation. My body and spirit became one with the forces I did not understand but to which I fully gave myself. Of a sudden there was truth and nothing else was of significance. I came to understand that my existence was simultaneous on many levels. I was totally without boundary of time or body. The goddess herself spoke to those who listened.

  After this experience I remained alone for a full day, deep in prayer and contemplation. Hadrian made no effort to intrude. He understood my need, having taken this mystery the year before. Hadrian had accompanied me as my sponsor and guide. I felt such a complete connection to him that the very feeling caused me unbelievable peace.

  The Emperor took the third and most sacred mystery without me, on the next eve. This could only be taken, without exception, one year after the second mystery. I believed I would follow his suite when we returned the following February, as I had made him promise that we would do so. But there would be no need.

  Chapter Thirty One

  The Oracle of Delphi, March 129 A.D.

  I became even more thoughtful and preoccupied with introspection as a result of the experience at Eleusis. Hadrian understood the impact , but did not think I would withdraw so completely. He misunderstood my meditation as depression, an aspect of my nature that often came between us. His own fluctuations of moods would conflict with mine. I would take myself to task for my difficult behavior, as I knew it did little to lighten his spirit.

  So much of his attention was demanded by his position! His state of health slowly declined. I saw him more often plagued with doubt about his mortality as he drove himself to accomplish the dreams he had set for the empire. The overwork and excess taxed his body. Soon after Eleusis my own mind was immersed in the remarkable revelations given to me by Demeter, distracting me from his worsening condition.

  Shortly before departing for the northern regions of Attica and to Delphi, Hadrian experienced another attack of bleeding. Too many hours in the sun consulting with his enginee
rs and architects, and too many late nights in drink with Atticus left him little time for rest. He had become pale and weary.

  Hadrian had returned from his usual morning routine of overseeing the work at the Temple of Olympian Zeus and this time he did not invite me to break bread with him, but went directly to his bed. He could barely stand as dizziness overtook him. Hadrian refused to see his physician when I suggested it. He lay quiet, his face ashen, the spittle at his lips, pink with blood.

  I spoke cautiously of my concern for him, not wanting to add to the persistent urging from his physician to take better care of himself. Hadrian disliked any reference to his illness or to the fact that he seemed to be less capable than he had once been. An acknowledgment of his limitations was an acquiescence to age, and brought into question his supposed divinity. I had no doubt that it was for these reasons he wanted to consult the Pythia at Delphi.

  "I give this two days to pass," he said, as though he were willing his own body back to health.

  "Then we leave for Delphi! See that everything is made ready Antinoos. Then return to me. Too many days have passed since we have spoken. We have need to come closer. I have had much to do and we have drifted apart these past weeks. That was not my intention in coming to Greece. We shall ride to Delphi with as few in attendance as possible. We will have some time alone. Come, embrace me and then be off, so you may sooner return!"

  Athens had begun awakening to a new Spring. Flowered hillsides and fields heralded the change of season. The river flowed swiftly with the force of melted snows from the north. The land was once again responding to the favor of the gods who took away and then gave again the grain and wine of life. I experienced a deep-felt connection with this force found myself seeking every piece of evidence that asserted the process of death and rebirth, for it was much on my mind.

  Hadrian became thoughtful, along the way. I suppressed an urge to engage him in idle talk, believing he was preparing himself for the meeting with the Oracle. Much of the journey was made in silence. We rode side by side and I relied on the Praetorian Guard who led the way to guide us to Delphi.

  It was late in the mid-afternoon when we arrived at the sacred shrine, having taken almost two hours to climb the steep slope of Mount Parnassus. As we neared the site, I was awed by what I saw. For miles we had passed through deserted countryside and through many villages whose sole means of support was the raising of goats and sheep. Farms were scarce and buildings were fashioned from the rough stones that littered the hillsides and fields, making the land inhospitable. Yet beyond this sparseness rose a spectacle that could only have been inspired by the Gods. Zeus, himself, had touched this sacred place when he had released two doves from Olympus to fly in opposite directions to search for the center of the world. They had reunited at Delphi. There, I touched the sacred stone placed by Zeus, that marked the spot said to be the navel of the earth.

  Parnassus rises above a verdant but rocky terrain that slopes to the shores of the Gulf of Corinthus. It is mountainous land not easily traveled. For this reason amazement gave way to respect for what had been achieved at Delphi. Masses of stone had been transported along miles of treacherously steep roads to the rocky ledge where, with sheer human determination, temples, arcades, monuments, arches, and a theater and stadium had been constructed with a splendor that was unmatched.

  Along the Sacred Way we passed the treasuries of all the Greek states, built to hold the offerings given in supplication and gratitude for favors sought and battles won. To my mind even Rome could not compare with this miniature city of another time, another place, another ethos. Here it was easy to forget the present and allow the mind to slip into mystical visions. There permeated everywhere a deep sense of timelessness. I stood with Hadrian at the foot of the colossal statue of Apollo, guarding the entrance to this deity's temple. We looked to the south.

  "Beyond lies Corinth," he said. "It has been almost five months since we first arrived there."

  "How little I knew then!"

  "How much more you can see now, Antinoos!"

  "So much seems to have changed, Lord. I think back but to a few weeks, a few months, a few years, and realize how each day had altered my thoughts and notions of who I thought I was. I am humbled by how little I knew, thinking I knew more!

  "How many times you must have thought me foolish with my childish manners. You said little, yet allowed me to grow in my own way."

  Hadrian turned and faced me. Standing before him, I saw that we were almost equal in height. It had not been so long ago when I had looked up at him. Now we were nearly matched in size, and I had recently taken to wearing some of his clothing and even enjoyed stealing his discarded undergarments. He discovered this activity while we were staying at Salvus' villa, and had humorously chided me for my alleged "perversion"; having enjoyed the incident.

  "Antinoos, from the moment that fate brought you to me that afternoon, I knew without doubt you were someone extraordinary. From the beginning I trusted your intellect and judgment. It has not always been easy to keep my silence when I wanted to offer advice. Knowing experience to be the best teacher, I allowed you to follow your own path. You have done yourself proud and have given me much reason for delight.

  "Now here you stand, having seen the dark side where so few men venture. Your mind and soul have penetrated the depths of human knowledge with the wisdom of Demeter. You are filled with the wonder of growth and expansion."

  I took his hand and led him up two steps, walking to the side of the temple that overlooked the valley to the south.

  "Before we enter...," I said, wanting to savor these few moments alone before going into the sanctuary where the temple priests and others awaited his arrival. "Speak to me of what I saw in the Telesterion. I cannot believe it, yet my eyes witnessed the sight!"

  Hadrian studied his hands, rubbing red knuckles with a thumb and then moving a finger over several brown spots on the skin that he seemed to be trying to rub away. He looked at me and I saw a brief glimpse of what seemed fear pass across his face. In an instant the expression changed and he once again regained his Imperial composure.

  "Each who sees and is touched by Eleusis must come to his own understanding. It would be futile and unjust for me to offer you my own truths. You must consider all that you experienced. Make no hasty judgments. Take no course of action and make no commitment to beliefs until Demeter has been given opportunity to speak to the deepest regions of your being, Antinoos. The Goddess has fated you to her. I know you witnessed something that moved you in a most profound way."

  My vow of silence compels me to great discretion. Even in the telling of these events, centuries removed from them, my words are selected with utmost caution! Yet I must tell something of the vision given to me in that cavernous hall at Eleusis.

  The multitudes drank of the communal cup. With only a few torches to give faint light, chanting filled the air and the rhythmic movement of a swaying crowd lulled me into a form of trance wherein the boundaries of reality were torn to reveal another world. Keeping my eyes on the symbol etched on the wall where Hadrian had advised me to look, I saw the emblem disappear and in its place a light appeared that drew me in and I felt myself rise and pass above the heads of all assembled. I became transfixed by the brightness! What followed must be told as impressions. For I cannot relate the incident in words. They do not do it justice.

  My body and soul seemed to be in unison, yet distinct from each other and each shared the knowledge of the other. In a duality of movement I was taken through several scenes simultaneously, each having distinction. All interrelated to a whole. It was like looking at a fine cloth, seeing the whole and yet also seeing each thread in the weave. My life appeared as a continuum with no beginning or end. My purpose for being was symbolized by an intricate pattern in the cloth, apparent only from a distance. When all was done I felt a peace in my exhaustion and knew myself anew. I felt contentment. I knew I no longer feared death.

  Had the hallucination be
en induced by either herbs or vapors? Hadrian declined to speak of what he had seen and felt. He urged me to give myself time for understanding, saying that all would make itself known when I was ready. His voice took on a distant sound and he spoke almost inaudibly.

  "Knowledge can be costly Antinoos. I know you feel a sense of liberation, but this too will have a price. Take care with how you interpret what you have seen and what you will come to know. There is much that will perplex you as we journey in the months ahead."

  Hadrian passed his fingers through my hair, and smiled.

  "You give me much," he said. "Your presence and your caring are more valuable than jewels or kingdoms. I worry when I see you troubled. I know you look to me for answers and I will give all those I can. But there will be many that you will need to discover alone.

  "Do you know how much I love you?"

  "If I judge your love by the depth of my own feelings for you," I said touching his cheek, "Then I know you love me without equal."

  "We have duties waiting," Hadrian said, standing and leading the way to the entrance of the temple. "Let us be done with them so we can get to the business for which we came."

  Hadrian placed a large sum of money with the priests as offering. These men held much influence and were the direct contacts with the Pythia. I was told that she spoke to no one directly but would respond in her own fashion and in her own time. Ambiguity was her style.

  In the early morning before the sun had begun to breach the mountains to the east, I followed Hadrian along a dimly lit path leading from our evening shelter. The beautiful Temple of Apollo, its marble awash with subtle hues and shadows, stood majestically independent from its surroundings. Looking to the heavens, I saw an eagle swooping above our heads and then fade into the darkness of an overhanging cliff. One of its feathers fell slowly and landed at Hadrian's feet. He stood riveted to the spot for a moment then stooped to retrieve the feather and clasped it tightly, searching the distant cliff for sign of the bird. Hadrian was shaken, his face darkened with foreboding. I began to speak but he silenced me.