Neptune and the Sea-Gods
I
In the days when the Titans ruled the universe, Oceanus, with his wife
Tethys, controlled all the lakes, rivers, and seas; but when the Titans
were overthrown, Neptune took possession of this great kingdom, and
old Oceanus reluctantly gave up his dominion over the waters of the
earth. Though anxious to assert his supreme authority, Neptune allowed
some of the descendants of the Titans to keep their small kingdoms,
on condition that they own allegiance to him as their ruler. Among
these was Nereus, son of Oceanus, who was celebrated for his vast
knowledge, his gift of prophecy, and his love of truth and justice. He
and his wife Doris (also a child of Oceanus) had fifty daughters called
Nereids,[47] and they were so beautiful that Neptune chose one of them,
named Amphitrite, for his wife. There were two others of the Nereids
who became famous: Galatea, beloved by the Cyclops Polyphemus,[48]
and Thetis, the mother of Achilles; but none of them equaled Amphitrite
in beauty.
[Illustration: Fountain of Neptune]
When Neptune first went wooing the Nereid, she was frightened by
his formidable appearance, for he drove in a chariot drawn by huge
sea-horses with brazen hoofs and golden manes; and the god himself
carried his terrible trident, or three-pronged spear, with which he
shatters rocks, and commands the storms, and shakes the shores of
earth. None knew better than Amphitrite the extent of Neptune's power,
for she had often watched him, when a storm was at its height, raise
his all-compelling trident, and immediately the waves would cease
raging and there would be a great calm. Sometimes she saw a ship,
doomed by the sea-god to disaster, gliding confidently in quiet waters,
when all at once a fierce storm would break over its head; and the
hapless sailors, as they breasted the angry waves, would pray vainly to
Neptune for the help that would never come. Many a good ship had nearly
gained her port when
"He spake and round about him called the clouds
And roused the ocean--wielding in his hand
The trident--summoned all the hurricanes
Of all the winds, and covered earth and sky
At once with mists, while from above the night
Fell suddenly."
_Odyssey_, Book V, line 348, Bryant's trans.
When Amphitrite saw this imposing-looking god driving toward her, she
was frightened by so much splendor, though she could not help admiring
Neptune himself with his sea-green beard, and his long flowing hair
crowned with shells and seaweed. Since the enamored god could never
come near enough to plead his suit, he sent one of his dolphins to
do the wooing; and this was so successful that the fair Nereid was
persuaded to become Neptune's wife, and share his golden throne in the
heart of the sea. To reward the dolphin for its skill in having won
for him his much-desired bride, Neptune placed it in the sky, where it
forms a well-known constellation.
Though Neptune had undisputed control over all the waters of the earth,
and over all that moves through the paths of the sea, he once aspired
to greater power, and even plotted to dethrone Jupiter. But the ruler
of gods and men discovered his wicked plans, and to punish him deprived
him of his kingdom for some years, during which time he was obliged to
submit to the humiliation of serving Laomedon, king of Troy. It was
while he was in service here that he sought Apollo's help in building
the wall of Troy, whose stones fell into place under the spell of the
sun-god's music.[49] Laomedon had promised Neptune a large reward if
the wall was built within a certain time; but when it was finished, he
refused to pay the sum agreed upon. Though angered at this treachery,
Neptune had to endure the king's injustice until his years of service
were over; but as soon as he was restored to his former power, he
created a terrible sea-monster, which spread terror and death over all
the land. Not knowing how to meet this calamity, the Trojans consulted
an oracle, and were advised to sacrifice to the monster a beautiful
maiden each year; and so prevent the wrath of Neptune from overwhelming
the whole country in disaster.
Reluctantly the sorrowing people prepared to obey the oracle; and a
victim was chosen by lot, and led by the priest to a large rock on the
seashore, where she was securely chained. Then the hideous sea-beast
glided out of its cave in the slimy rocks and devoured her. Each year
this terrible ceremony was repeated, and at last the lot fell upon
Hesione, the king's only daughter. Laomedon tried in vain to save her,
but the lot was cast, and nothing could avert the appointed sacrifice.
In despair, the wretched father saw the fatal hour approaching; and
when the day drew near when Hesione was to be led down to the sea, he
forgot his avarice and proclaimed throughout the land that a great
reward would be given to any one who could slay the monster. Hercules
appeared just in time to save the doomed maiden, and killed the monster
with his oaken club as it was dragging Hesione into its cave. The
king was overjoyed at his daughter's rescue, and told Hercules that he
might claim the reward; but even when he saw the hero come with the
beast's head as a proof that he had slain it, he refused to part with
his much-loved gold. So Hercules returned home, but he did not forget
Laomedon's perfidy; and when later on he came again to Troy, he killed
the king and took his children captive to Greece.[50]
Neptune, like all the immortals, loved more than once; and among those
who shared his affections was a maiden named Theophane, who had so
many suitors that it kept the jealous sea-god in constant fear lest
she should prefer some earthly lover. So he took her to the island of
Crumissa, and there changed her into a sheep, while he carried on his
wooing in the form of a ram. The offspring of this marriage was the
famous golden-fleeced ram, whose pelt was the object of that ill-fated
expedition made by Jason and his fellow Argonauts.
Neptune also loved the goddess Ceres, and followed her during the
long time that she spent in search of her daughter Proserpina. Ceres
was angered by the sea-god's persistent wooing, and hoping to escape
from him, she took the form of a mare; but Neptune was not so easily
discouraged, for he changed himself into a horse and contentedly
trotted after her. The child of this strange pair was Arion,[51] a
wonderful winged steed that had the power of speech, and was of such
incredible swiftness that nothing could ever equal it in speed.
The most famous children of Neptune and Amphitrite were Triton and
Proteus. Triton was his father's trumpeter, and at Neptune's command
he blew upon his conch-shell to calm the restless sea. His body was
half man and half fish, and he gave the name of Tritons to all his
male descendants, who, with the Nereids and Oceanides (daughters of
Oceanus), followed the chariot of Neptune when he went abroad to view
his kingdom. Proteus had charge of the great flock of sea-calves which
fed on the soft seaweed and basked in the warm sands near his cave. He
was celebrated for his wisdom and for the truth of the answers that
he gave to those fortunate enough to make him speak. Homer calls him
"the Ancient of the Deep whose words are ever true"; but his knowledge
was not easy to obtain, for he had the extraordinary power of assuming
any shape he pleased, and only those mortals gained his advice who
persistently clung to him through his many bewildering changes.
"When the climbing sun has reached
The middle heaven, the Ancient of the Deep,
Who ne'er deceives, emerges from the waves,
And, covered with the dark scum of the sea,
Walks forth, and in a cavern vault lies down.
The sea-calves from the hoary ocean throng,
Rank with the bitter odor of the brine,
And slumber near him. Then ye must exert
Your utmost strength to hold him there, although
He strive and struggle to escape your hands;
For he will try all stratagems, and take
The form of every reptile on the earth,
And turn to water and to raging flame.
* * * * *
But hold him fast, until the aged seer
Is wearied out in spite of all his wiles,
Then question him."
--BRYANT'S Homer's _Odyssey_, Book IV, line 518.
II
Aristæus was the son of Apollo, and the water-nymph, Cyrene. Beside
tending his flocks and herds, he took care of the olive trees and
vineyards, and was a famous keeper of bees. He was very proud of his
hives, and the swarm of bees increased each year under the guidance of
his skillful hands; but one day he found hundreds of the bees lying
lifeless beside the hives, and on the morrow there were still more
among the dead. Not knowing how to account for this disaster, Aristæus
hurried to his mother to ask her help in saving the few bees that
remained. Cyrene lived under a mountain stream; and, hearing that
her son wished to speak to her, she commanded the river to divide and
form a wall on either side, so that Aristæus might walk in dry places.
When the youth told her of the tragedy befalling his hives, she could
not help him, but bade him go to old Proteus, for he alone could tell
what the trouble was and find a remedy. She warned Aristæus of the
difficulty in holding the Ancient of the Deep when he tried to bewilder
and terrify the stranger by rapidly assuming different forms; and she
bade him remember that he must keep the sea-god fast bound if he would
receive the wished-for answers. Then she led him to the cave of Proteus
and hid him there, exhorting him to be bold and fearless.
At noon the Wizard of the Deep came up out of the sea, followed by
his herd of sea-calves; and while they lay stretched out on the warm
sands, the god sought the retreat of his cave and soon was in a deep
slumber. When Aristæus saw Proteus fast asleep, he stepped cautiously
up to him and bound him with strong fetters. The god woke with a
start, and tried to shake himself free of his chains; but on finding
that he was a prisoner, he resorted to all the trickery that he could
command. He became a fire, a flood, a wild beast, a horrible serpent,
and many other forms calculated to terrify the beholder. But Aristæus
was not afraid, and soon the old wizard realized that he must submit;
so he assumed his own shape, and asked the youth what it was that he
wished to know. The son of Cyrene told him of the death of his bees,
and begged for some remedy. Then Proteus reminded him of how he had
been the real cause of Eurydice's death, by making her flee from him
in such haste that she did not see the snake at her feet.[52] The
wood-nymphs, who were Eurydice's companions, had therefore wished to
punish Aristæus, and had sent this destruction to his hives. It was
necessary to appease the wrath of the nymphs; and to do this Proteus
bade the youth build four altars, and sacrifice on them four bulls and
four cows of perfect form and size. This burnt-offering was to placate
the nymphs, and when it was made, he must pay funeral honors to Orpheus
and Eurydice to pacify their anger against him. At the end of nine days
he was to return to the grove where he had made the sacrifices.
Aristæus thanked the Ancient of the Deep for his wise words, and after
releasing him from the fetters, hurried away to do as Proteus had
advised. The sacrifices were made, and suitable honors paid to the
dead; and then, after waiting impatiently for nine days, Aristæus went
back to the grove. To his great joy he found that a swarm of bees had
taken possession of the carcasses, and that he was now the owner of a
much larger number than he had ever had before.
III
One of the many sea-gods who ruled under Neptune was Glaucus, who was
once a poor fisherman, and earned his living by selling the fish that
he caught each day. One morning he had an extra large haul; and when
he threw the fish on the ground beside him, he noticed that they were
eagerly nibbling the grass that grew very thickly in the spot where
he had flung his net. As he stood watching them, the fish suddenly
leaped up from the ground; and having flopped back into the water,
swam away. Curious to see whether it was the grass that gave them
this extraordinary power, Glaucus chewed a bit of it himself, and
immediately he felt an irresistible desire to plunge into the sea.
Fearlessly he dived beneath the waves, and soon found no difficulty in
keeping under water, for the ocean seemed now to be his native element.
He saw his beard turning a lovely sea-green; and he found that his
hair, grown suddenly long and green, was trailing out behind him. His
arms were azure-colored, and his legs became a fish's tail; but he felt
no regrets over losing his human form, and stayed contentedly in the
ocean. In time Neptune made him one of the lesser gods, and took him
into the friendly fraternity of the sea.
As Glaucus was swimming one day near the shore, he saw a beautiful
maiden named Scylla; and fell so much in love with her that he forgot
he was half fish, and begged her to be his wife. Scylla stared at
his green hair and blue skin, but this did not frighten her, nor did
she wonder at his fish's tail; for she had often played with the
sea-nymphs, and was accustomed to their strange appearance. Glaucus
felt encouraged by her behavior, and begged her to listen to the story
of his life. He told her how he had suffered a sea change, and now
occupied the lofty position of a god. The maiden was interested in
this recital, but she had no desire to marry a merman, even if he were
a god; so when Glaucus ventured to come nearer to her, she turned and
fled. Discouraged but still determined, the young god sought the aid
of the enchantress Circe, and begged her to give him some love-potion
by which he might win the unwilling Scylla. Circe was so well pleased
with the handsome sea-god that she urged him to accept her love, and
forget the maiden who scorned him; but Glaucus would not yield to the
persuasions of the enchantress, and kept pleading for the desired
love-potion.
Seeing that she could not gain his affections, Circe determined that
at least no one else should enjoy his love; so she refused to make the
potion, and sent Glaucus angrily away. When she saw him go sorrowfully
from her palace, she mixed a magic liquid, brewed from poisonous plants
and deadly weeds, and this she poured over the waters where Scylla was
wont to bathe. The maiden, suspecting no treachery, sought the ocean
at her accustomed hour, and as soon as the poisoned waves touched her
body she became a horrible monster with six heads--each having three
rows of sharp teeth. She saw all around her serpents and barking dogs
that were part of her own body, which had suddenly become rooted to the
spot where she stood. She never regained her human form, but stayed
in this place forever to terrify all mariners, and to devour the
hapless sailors that came within her reach. Opposite her was the den
of Charybdis, who three times a day swallowed the waters of the sea,
and three times threw them up again. On the rock above the den was an
immense fir-tree, and all ships that passed that way watched eagerly
for this signal of danger, and prayed that they might safely steer
between the double horrors of Scylla and Charybdis.
"There Scylla dwells,
And fills the air with fearful yells; her voice
The cry of whelps just littered, but herself
A frightful prodigy--a sight which none
Would care to look on, though he were a god.
Twelve feet are hers, all shapeless, six long necks,
A hideous head on each, and triple rows
Of teeth, close set and many, threatening death.
And forth from the dark gulf her heads are thrust,
To look abroad upon the rocks for prey,--
.... No mariner can boast
That he has passed by Scylla with a crew
Unharmed."
--BRYANT'S Homer's _Odyssey_, Book XII, line 100.
IV
Two other minor deities of the sea were Leucothea and Palæmon. They
were not born of the ocean-nymphs or any water-god, but were once
mortals, named Ino and Melicertes. Ino was the wife of King Athamas,
whom cruel Juno goaded into madness; and through fear of him Ino fled
from the palace with her little son, Melicertes, in her arms. She hoped
to reach some place of safety; but imagining herself pursued, in her
frenzy she plunged from a cliff's edge into the sea. Neither she nor
her son perished, however, for the gods, in pity for her sufferings,
changed them both into ocean deities under the names of Leucothea
and Palæmon. They were widely worshiped by all who had business in
great waters, and their protection was invoked against the danger
of shipwreck. A famous altar to Palæmon was built on the shores of
Corinth, and in his honor were instituted the celebrated Isthmian
games.[53]
V
Neptune was not only willing to befriend a goddess in distress, as
he did when he raised the island out of the sea for Latona, but was
equally ready to assist mortals--especially in their love affairs.
Once he lent his chariot to a youth named Idas when he wished to
elope with the maiden Marpessa, whose father had refused to allow
the lovers to wed. They were overjoyed at Neptune's kindly offer of
assistance; and on the day arranged for their flight, the happy pair
mounted the chariot, and the swift steeds carried them far out of reach
of Marpessa's angry father. When he discovered that his daughter had
eloped with her lover, he started in pursuit; but finding it impossible
to overtake Neptune's splendid horses, he flew into such a rage that
he flung himself into a river and drowned. (The river was afterwards
called by his name--Evenus.)
Knowing themselves out of reach of the irate father, the lovers
continued their journey very happily, and believed that no misfortune
could overtake them, when suddenly Apollo appeared before them, and,
declaring himself in love with Marpessa, offered to fight Idas then
and there for the possession of the maiden. Poor Idas felt that his
chances for happiness were indeed ended, for how could a mortal contend
with an omnipotent god? Suddenly a thunderbolt fell from the blue sky,
and a voice declared that Marpessa herself should choose between her
two suitors. The maiden looked at the glorious sun-god, and her heart
beat fast at the thought of being loved by one so beautiful and young;
but when she turned to Idas, she remembered that he was a mortal like
herself, who would grow old as she grew old, and would, therefore,
not cast her aside when her youthful charm was gone, as Apollo would
be sure to do as soon as her beauty waned. So she held out her hand
to Idas, and refused the sun-god's love. This choice was approved by
Jupiter, and the lovers, happy once more, urged Neptune's swift horses
over the mirror-like sea, which the kindly god had made calm as a
forest pool on the softest summer day. In time they reached a pleasant
land far from their native country, and here they lived happily ever
afterward. The chariot, no longer needed, was sent back to Neptune with
many thanks for his timely aid; and each year Idas and Marpessa burned
as sacrifices to their protector a white bull, a white ram, and a white
boar, which was the kind of offering most pleasing to Neptune.