Mars and Vulcan
I
The three children of Jupiter and Juno were Hebe, Mars, and Vulcan.
Hebe, goddess of youth, was cupbearer at the feasts of Olympus and
poured from golden flagons the sparkling, ruby-tinted nectar. Many
times were the brimming cups emptied and filled again, for the gods
loved long draughts of the life-giving nectar that kept off all
sickness and decay. No wine of earth's yielding ever appeared at these
royal banquets, nor were there seen here the heaped-up platters of food
such as mortals crave; for the gods ate only of the divine ambrosia
which insured to them eternal youth and beauty.
For so long a time had fair-haired Hebe served at the feasts of Olympus
that the gods never thought that she could be deprived of her office;
but once, as she was handing Jupiter a well-filled cup, she stumbled
and fell, and the ruler of gods and men was so angry that he vowed that
she should never again be cupbearer. Since no one among the gods was
willing to fill this humble position, Jupiter was obliged to seek over
the earth for some mortal to take the place of poor disgraced Hebe.
To make the journey as speedily as possible he assumed the form of an
eagle, and spent many days soaring over the land before he found the
youth whose slender grace made him feel assured that its possessor
would be able to serve the gods less awkwardly than Hebe. On the sunny
slopes of Mount Ida he saw a group of youths playing games, and among
them was one whom Jupiter determined to bear away at once to Olympus.
This was Ganymede, a prince of Troy; and the fact that he was no common
mortal, but a king's son, did not deter Jupiter from swooping down upon
the astonished youth, and carrying him aloft on his wings. Whether
Ganymede was happy in Olympus we do not know; but the story goes that
he remained forever at Jupiter's side, and the city of Troy never saw
him again, nor did the king his father ever know the reason for his
strange disappearance.
II
Mars[31] was the god of war; and though he was the least loved of
all the deities in Olympus, he was the one most feared by the people
of every land. As he was always a hater of peace, and would stir
up strife among men for the mere delight of fighting and bloodshed,
the poet Homer calls him "the slayer of men, one steeped in blood,
the destroyer of walled towns." His shrines were never wreathed with
flowers, nor were children often found among the people grouped
about his altars. Instead of the yearling ox with gilded horns, men
sacrificed a savage bull to the god who took no pleasure in the tame
shedding of blood. Sometimes Bellona, goddess of war, accompanied Mars
in his chariot to watch over his safety; and since she was equally
eager to urge men on to bloody fighting, their appearance together
on the battle-field brought terror to the bravest heart. Seldom were
prayers addressed to these two deities, except those of vengeance upon
enemies; and there was little hope of peace for the nation when men
thronged the temples where Mars and Bellona were jointly worshiped. The
fiercest passions were kindled at their shrines, and their altars were
the only ones that were ever defiled by human sacrifices.
Though so fierce in warfare, Mars was as susceptible to love as were
all the immortals; for he was not only the chosen one of golden-haired
Venus, but was also the devoted lover of the vestal Rhea Silvia.[32]
This maiden, being dedicated to the goddess Vesta, did not dare to
listen to any words of love until her time of service in the temple
was over; for the penalty of breaking her solemn vows would be the
terrible one of being buried alive. But Mars was not to be denied; so
at last the vestal yielded, but kept her marriage secret and continued
to live in the temple until the birth of her twin sons Romulus and
Remus. When her parents learned that she had failed to keep the sacred
promise made at the altar fire of Vesta, they demanded that she should
suffer the prescribed punishment. She was therefore taken at night into
an underground room of the temple and inclosed in the wall which had
been built to allow for just such a tragic event. As her children were
declared outcasts, they were taken into the forest and left to perish
by the teeth of wild beasts. Romulus and Remus did not die, however;
for a she-wolf carried them to her lair and reared them with her own
cubs. Later on they were found by a kindly shepherd who took care of
them until they grew to manhood. Then they left him, and went out into
the world to seek adventures, which soon ended in Romulus killing his
brother Remus and himself becoming the founder of Rome.
When this new city was well established, Mars was made its patron deity
and protector; and before an army set out on any military campaign the
leader would first go into the temple where the sacred shield--the
Ancile--hung; and touching it fearfully would pray, "Oh, Mars, watch
over us." This shield was carefully guarded in Rome, for upon it
depended the safety of the city. It was a special token sent by the god
of war to show that the people of Rome were under his protection; for
once when a plague was raging among them and the dead were numbered
by thousands, the Romans fled to the temple of Mars and begged him to
help them. As they were praying, a shield fell from the skies into
their midst, and a voice told them that as long as this--the sacred
Ancile--was with them, no harm could come to Rome. That day the plague
ceased, and ever afterward the shield was jealously guarded. To insure
its safety, eleven other shields were made so like the Ancile that no
one but the Salii, the priests of the temple, knew which it was. These
were carried in the streets during the festivals in honor of Mars which
were held in March--the month that bears his name; and as the priests
bore aloft the shields they sang war-songs and performed rude war
dances. Sometimes the shields were displayed on the broad grounds where
the soldiers and youths of the city held their exercises. This place
was dedicated to the god of war, and was called the Campus Martius, or
Field of Mars.
During the war between the gods and giants, Mars was so eager to prove
his skill in warfare that he engaged in a fierce battle with Otus and
Ephialtes. These two giants were only nine years old; but they were
already of immense size, as they increased in height at the rate of
nine inches every month. The young giants were very proud of having
conquered the god of war, and carried him off the battle-field in
triumph. They bound Mars with iron chains, and kept a careful guard
over him so that none of the gods could set him free. Whenever Mars
attempted to escape at night, believing that the giants were asleep,
the rattle of the chains woke his guardians, and all hope of rescuing
him was over. In this disgraceful bondage the unhappy Mars lingered for
fifteen months until Mercury, the prince of thieves, unfastened the
chains and restored the god to freedom.
When Cadmus went on his search for his sister Europa, whom Jupiter, in
the form of a white bull, had carried off to a distant land,[33] the
devoted brother was at last bidden to give up his hopeless quest, to
settle in the country, later called Bœotia, and to found a city there.
Cadmus was glad to rest after his long march, and he sent some of his
men in search of a spring. When they did not come back, he sent others
to look for them, and when these did not return, he went himself to see
what had caused all this delay. He carried his sword in his hand, and
also a long spear, for he guessed that some disaster had overtaken his
men. He wandered some time before he discovered any trace of them, and
then at the edge of a forest he came upon the lifeless body of one of
those who had first set out to find the spring. As he went farther into
the forest he found others of his men, all of them lifeless, and soon
he came to a large cave, at the entrance of which bubbled a fountain of
purest water.
Not knowing that this was a grove sacred to Mars, and a fountain that
had never been polluted by mortal touch, Cadmus stooped to drink, when
suddenly, out of the deep shadows of the cave, rushed a huge dragon
with crested head and glittering scales and a triple tongue vibrating
between triple rows of teeth. This monster, twisting his body into a
huge coil, darted toward Cadmus with gleaming fangs; but the young
prince dealt his assailant a terrific blow that pierced the dragon in
a vital spot, and it rolled over dead upon the floor of the cave. Then
Cadmus heard a voice telling him to take out the dragon's teeth and
to sow them in the ground where he wished to build his future city of
Thebes. As soon as the teeth were sown, a crop of giants in glittering
armor sprang up out of the ground, and when they were about to turn
their spears upon Cadmus, he again heard the voice--this time bidding
him throw a stone into the midst of the armed men. This caused a
terrific battle to begin among the giants themselves, and soon they
were all killed except five who laid down their weapons and offered
their services to Cadmus.
As a punishment for the desecration of his grove and the slaying of
its sacred guardian, Mars compelled Cadmus to serve him for eight
years. At the end of this time the prince was made ruler of the new
city of Thebes, and Mars so far forgave the sacrilege of his grove
as to give Cadmus his daughter Harmonia in marriage. The career of
the new king was very prosperous at first, and Cadmus was supposed to
have contributed a great boon to his people by the invention of the
alphabet. Later on he incurred the wrath of the gods by forgetting to
offer them suitable sacrifices, and both he and his wife Harmonia were
changed into serpents.
Just above the city of Athens was a hill called the Areopagus (from the
Greek word meaning Mars Hill), which received its name from a famous
trial that took place there. Neptune's son had carried off the daughter
of Mars; and when the god of war learned of the abduction, he hurried
after the daring youth and killed him. Then Neptune demanded that Mars
should be punished for his deed of blood; and to decide the matter,
both were summoned to appear before a court of justice, which was held
on the hill above Athens. As it was the custom for all important cases
to be tried at night, so that the judges might not be prejudiced by
the favorable appearance of either party, the court assembled in the
darkness, and Mars told the story of his daughter's capture and his
own subsequent revenge. In spite of Neptune's objections to what he
considered an unfair verdict, the judges decided in favor of Mars, and
he was therefore acquitted. The hill was afterwards called by his name,
and the judges of the principal court of justice were always termed
_areopagitæ_.
III
Vulcan,[34] god of fire and the forge, was not often seen in the halls
of Olympus, for he knew that the gods despised him for his ungainly
appearance, and he preferred to stay in his own sooty workshop. He had
also no desire for the society of his divine parents, since his mother
had never shown anything but indifference toward him, and his father
had been the cause of his deformity. Jupiter was once so angry with
Juno for interfering in his love affairs that he fastened her to the
end of a strong chain, and hung her out of heaven. Vulcan, seeing his
mother in this sad plight, dragged at the chain and finally succeeded
in drawing Juno into safety. Full of wrath at this defiance of his
wishes, Jupiter kicked his son out of heaven; and as the distance of
the fall was so great, it was a whole day and night before Vulcan
reached the earth. Had he been a mortal, there would have been nothing
left to tell the story of his meteorlike descent; but being a god, he
still lived and had only a slight deformity and lameness as the result
of his fall. When he learned that Juno was so unconcerned over his fate
that she had never even inquired whether he was badly hurt, he would
not go back to Olympus, but shut himself up in the heart of Mount Etna,
where he established a mighty forge that poured out fire and smoke for
many years after.
Vulcan did not forget about his mother's heartless indifference; but
none of the gods suspected him of harboring any revenge, until one
day a beautiful golden throne arrived in Olympus as a present to Juno
from her son. The goddess admired the exquisite designs carved on
its polished surface, and seated herself in it proudly. Now Vulcan
had contrived to hide some springs in the interior of the throne,
and these were so skillfully arranged that the moment a person was
seated, the entire structure quickly contracted and held the occupant
prisoner. So in a moment proud Juno found herself securely caught, and
no assistance that the gods could render her was of the least avail.
Then Jupiter sent Mercury to the grimy abode of Vulcan to beg politely
that the god of fire would honor, with his presence, the feast that
was that day to be held in Olympus; but Vulcan was not to be moved
by any flattery, for he well knew why he was so much desired at this
particular time. So Mercury returned alone to Olympus, and Jupiter was
obliged to think of some other device for luring Vulcan from his forge.
This time he sent Bacchus, god of wine; and when the scowling deity
of Etna saw Bacchus's jolly red face and heard his hearty laugh, he
welcomed the jovial visitor and drank freely of the wine that Bacchus
poured. The roisterous god of revels, who dearly loved to see good
wine flowing, beguiled Vulcan into taking draught after draught of the
choice vintage that he had purposely brought, until the sullen master
of the forge was unable to tell what was happening, and allowed himself
to be led unresistingly to Olympus. Once there the gods persuaded him
to release the repentant Juno, and to allow himself to be reinstated in
Jupiter's favor.
Though Vulcan grudgingly complied with these requests, he would not
consent to live in Olympus, but returned to his workshop in Mount
Etna. There he made many things out of gold and precious stones and
gave them to the gods as an evidence that he no longer bore them any
ill will. Their golden thrones were made by Vulcan's crafty hands, and
the wonderful palaces, with all their costly furnishings, were the
best result of his skill. He also forged Jupiter's thunderbolts and
fashioned the weapons that the gods used in battle. He made Apollo's
marvelous sun-chariot, and even deigned to use his skill in shaping the
arrows that Cupid used in his golden bow.
When Jupiter decreed[35] that laughter-loving Venus should wed his
misshapen son, Vulcan took his reluctant wife to the smoky workshop in
Mount Etna, and for a while Venus was amused at the unusual sights and
sounds that greeted her in her new home; but she soon wearied of the
dirt and darkness, and left the society of her surly husband to return
to Olympus, where there was plenty to delight her pleasure-loving
soul.
[Illustration: The Abduction of Proserpina]