BULFINCH’S MYTHOLOGY

THE AGE OF FABLE

OR STORIES OF GODS AND HEROES

by Thomas Bulfinch

[1855]

CHAPTER XVII

THE GOLDEN FLEECE – MEDEA

THE GOLDEN FLEECE

IN very ancient times there lived in Thessaly a king and queen
name Athamas and Nephele. They had two children, a boy and a girl.
After a time Athamas grew indifferent to his wife, put her away, and
took another. Nephele suspected danger to her children from the
influence of the step-mother, and took measures to send them out of
her reach. Mercury assisted her, and gave her a ram with a golden
fleece, on which she set the two children, trusting that the ram would
convey them to a place of safety. The ram vaulted into the air with
the children on his back, taking his course to the East, till when
crossing the strait that divides Europe and Asia, the girl, whose name
was Helle, fell from his back into the sea, which from her was
called the Hellespont,- now the Dardanelles. The ram continued his
career till he reached the kingdom of Colchis, on the eastern shore of
the Black Sea, where he safely landed the boy Phryxus, who was
hospitably received by AEetes, king of the country. Phryxus sacrificed
the ram to Jupiter, and gave the Golden Fleece to AEetes, who placed
it in a consecrated rove, under the care of a sleepless dragon.

There was another kingdom in Thessaly near to that of Athamas, and
ruled over by a relative of his. The king AEson, being tired of the
cares of government, surrendered his crown to his brother Pelias on
condition that he should hold it only during the minority of Jason,
the son of AEson. When Jason was grown up and came to demand the crown
from his uncle, Pelias pretended to be willing to yield it, but at the
same time suggested to the young man the glorious adventure of going
in quest of the Golden Fleece, which it was well known was in the
kingdom of Colchis, and was, as Pelias pretended, the rightful
property of their family. Jason was pleased, with the thought and
forthwith made preparations for the expedition. At that time the
only species of navigation known to the Greeks consisted of small
boats or canoes hollowed out from trunks of trees, so that when
Jason employed Argus to build him a vessel capable of containing fifty
men, it was considered a gigantic undertaking. It was accomplished,
however, and the vessel named “Argo,” from the name of the builder.
Jason sent his invitation to all the adventurous young men of
Greece, and soon found himself at the head of a band of bold youths,
many of whom afterwards were renowned among the heroes and demigods of
Greece. Hercules, Theseus, Orpheus, and Nestor were among them. They
are called the Argonauts, from the name of their vessel.

The “Argo” with her crew of heroes of Thessaly and having touched at
the Island of Lemnos, thence crossed to Mysia and thence to Thrace.
Here they found the sage Phineus, and from him received instruction as
to their future course. It seems the entrance of the Euxine Sea was
impeded by two small rocky islands, which floated on the surface,
and in their tossings and heavings occasionally came together,
crushing and grinding to atoms any object that might be caught between
them. They were called the Symplegades, or Clashing Islands. Phineus
instructed the Argonauts how to pass this dangerous strait. When
they reached the islands they let go a dove, which took her way
between the rocks, and passed in safety, only losing some feathers
of her tail. Jason and his men seized the favourable moment of the
rebound, plied their oars with vigour, and passed safe through, though
the islands closed behind them, and actually grazed their stern.
They now rowed along the shore till they arrived at the eastern end of
the sea, and landed at the kingdom of Colchis.

Jason made known his message to the Colchian king, AEetes, who
consented to give tip the golden fleece if Jason would yoke to the
plough two fire-breathing bulls with brazen feet, and sow the teeth of
the dragon which Cadmus had slain, and from which it was well known
that a crop of armed men would spring up, who would turn their weapons
against their producer. Jason accepted the conditions, and a time
was set for making the experiment. Previously, however, he found means
to plead his cause to Medea, daughter of the king. He promised her
marriage, and as they stood before the altar of Hecate, called the
goddess to witness his oath. Medea yielded, and by her aid, for she
was a potent sorceress, he was furnished with a charm, by which he
could encounter safely the breath of the fire-breathing bulls and
the weapons of the armed men.

At the time appointed, the people assembled at the grove of Mars,
and the king assumed his royal seat, while the multitude covered the
hill-sides. The brazen-footed bulls rushed in, breathing fire from
their nostrils that burned up the herbage as they passed. The sound
was like the roar of a furnace, and the smoke like that of water
upon quick-lime. Jason advanced boldly to meet them. His friends,
the chosen heroes of Greece, trembled to behold him. Regardless of the
burning breath, he soothed their rage with his voice, patted their
necks with fearless hand, and adroitly slipped over them the yoke, and
compelled them to drag the plough. The Colchians were amazed; the
Greeks shouted for joy. Jason next proceeded to sow the dragon’s teeth
and plough them in. And soon the crop of armed men sprang up, and,
wonderful to relate! no sooner had they reached the surface than
they began to brandish their weapons and rush upon Jason. The Greeks
trembled for their hero, and even she who had provided him a way of
safety and taught him how to use it, Medea herself, grew pale with
fear. Jason for a time kept his assailants at bay with his sword and
shield, till, finding their numbers overwhelming, he resorted to the
charm which Medea had taught him, seized a stone and threw it in the
midst of his foes. They immediately turned their arms against one
another, and soon there was not one of the dragon’s brood left
alive. The Greeks embraced their hero, and Medea, if she dared,
would have embraced him too.

It remained to lull to sleep the dragon that guarded the fleece, and
this was done by scattering over him a few drops of a preparation
which Medea had supplied. At the smell he relaxed his rage, stood
for a moment motionless, then shut those great round eyes, that had
never been known to shut before, and turned over on his side, fast
asleep. Jason seized the fleece and with his friends and Medea
accompanying, hastened to their vessel before AEetes the king could
arrest their departure, and made the best of their way back to
Thessaly, where they arrived safe, and Jason delivered the fleece to
Pelias, and dedicated the “Argo” to Neptune. What became of the fleece
afterwards we do not know, but perhaps it was found after all, like
many other golden prizes, not worth the trouble it had cost to procure
it.

This is one of those mythological tales, says a late writer, in
which there is reason to believe that a substratum of truth exists,
though overlaid by a mass of fiction. It probably was the first
important maritime expedition, and like the first attempts of the kind
of all nations, as we know from history, was probably of a
half-piratical character. If rich spoils were the result it was enough
to give rise to the idea of the golden fleece.

Another suggestion of a learned mythologist, Bryant, is that it is a
corrupt tradition of the story of Noah and the ark. The name “Argo”
seems to countenance this, and the incident of the dove is another
confirmation.

Pope, in his “Ode on St. Cecilia’s Day,” thus celebrates the
launching of the ship “Argo,” and the power of the music of Orpheus,
whom he calls the Thracian:

“So when the first bold vessel dared the seas,
High on the stern the Thracian raised his strain,
While Argo saw her kindred trees
Descend from Pelion to the main.
Transported demigods stood round,
And men grew heroes at the sound.”

In Dyer’s poem of “The Fleece” there is an account of the ship
“Argo” and her crew, which gives a good picture of this primitive
maritime adventure:

“From every region of AEgea’s shore
The brave assembled; those illustrious twins
Castor and Pollux; Orpheus, tuneful bard;
Zetes and Calais, as the wind in speed;
Strong Hercules and many a chief renowned.
On deep Ioclos’ sandy shore they thronged,
Gleaming in armour, ardent of exploits;
And soon, the laurel cord and the huge stone
Uplifting to the deck, unmoored the bark;
Whose keel of wondrous length the skilful hand
Of Argus fashioned for the proud attempt;
And in the extended keel a lofty mast
Upraised, and sails full swelling; to the chiefs
Unwonted objects. Now first, now they learned
Their bolder steerage over ocean wave,
Led by the golden stars, as Chiron’s art
Had marked the sphere celestial,” etc.

Hercules left the expedition at Mysia, for Hylas, a youth beloved by
him, having gone for water, was laid hold of and kept by the nymphs of
the spring, who were fascinated by his beauty. Hercules went in
quest of the lad, and while he was absent the “Argo” put to sea and
left him. Moore, in one of his songs, makes a beautiful allusion to
this incident:

“When Hylas was sent with his urn to the fount,
Through fields of light and with heart full of play,
Light rambled the boy over meadow and mount,
And neglected his task for the flowers in the way.

“Thus many like me, who in youth should have tasted
The fountain that runs by Philosophy’s shrine,
Their time with the flowers on the margin have wasted,
And left their light urns all as empty as mine.”

MEDEA AND AESON

Amid the rejoicings for the recovery of the Golden Fleece, Jason
felt that one thing was wanting, the presence of AEson, his father,
who was prevented by his age and infirmities from taking part in them.
Jason said to Medea, “My spouse, would that your arts, whose power I
have seen so mighty for my aid, could do me one further service,
take some years from my life and add them to my father’s.” Medea
replied, “Not at such a cost shall it be done, but if my art avails
me, his life shall be lengthened without abridging yours.” The next
full moon she issued forth alone, while all creatures slept; not a
breath stirred the foliage, and all was still, To the stars she
addressed her incantations, and to the moon; to Hecate,* the goddess
of the under-world, and to Tellus the goddess of the earth, by whose
power plants potent for enchantment are produced. She invoked the gods
of the woods and caverns, of mountains and valleys, of lakes and
rivers, of winds and vapours. While she spoke the stars shone
brighter, and presently a chariot descended through the air, drawn
by flying serpents. She ascended it, and borne aloft made her way to
distant regions, where potent plants grew which she knew how to select
for her purpose. Nine nights she employed in her search, and during
that time came not within the doors of her palace nor under any
roof, and shunned all intercourse with mortals.

* Hecate was a mysterious divinity sometimes identified with Diana
and sometimes with Proserpine. As Diana represents the moonlight
splendour of night, so Hecate represents its darkness and terrors. She
was the goddess of sorcery and witchcraft, and was believed to
wander by night along the earth, seen only by the dogs, whose
barking told her approach.

She next erected two altars, the one to Hecate, the other to Hebe,
the goddess of youth, and sacrificed a black sheep, pouring
libations of milk and wine. She implored Pluto and his stolen bride
that they would not hasten to take the old man’s life. Then she
directed that AEson should be led forth, and having thrown him into
a deep sleep by a charm, had him laid on a bed of herbs, like one
dead. Jason and all others were kept away from the place, that no
profane eyes might look upon her mysteries. Then, with streaming hair,
she thrice moved round the altars, dipped flaming twigs in the
blood, and laid them thereon to burn. Meanwhile the cauldron with
its contents was got ready. In it she put magic herbs, with seeds
and flowers of acrid juice, stones from the distant east, and sand
from the shore of all-surrounding ocean; hoar frost, gathered by
moonlight, a screech owl’s head and wings, and the entrails of a wolf.
She added fragments of the shells of tortoises, and the liver of
stags- animals tenacious of life- and the head and beak of a crow,
that outlives nine generations of men. These with many other things
“without a name” she boiled together for her purposed work, stirring
them up with a dry olive branch; and behold! the branch when taken out
instantly became green, and before long was covered with leaves and
a plentiful growth of young olives; and as the liquor boiled and
bubbled, and sometimes ran over, the grass wherever the sprinklings
fell shot forth with a verdure like that of spring.

Seeing that all was ready, Medea cut the throat of the old man and
let out all his blood, and poured into his mouth and into his wound
the juices of her cauldron. As soon as he had completely imbibed them,
his hair and beard laid by their whiteness and assumed the blackness
of youth; his paleness and emaciation were gone; his veins were full
of blood, his limbs of vigour and robustness. AEson is amazed at
himself, and remembers that such as he now is, he was in his
youthful days, forty years before.

Medea used her arts here for a good purpose, but not so in another
instance, where she made them the instruments of revenge. Pelias,
our readers will recollect, was the usurping uncle of Jason, and had
kept him out of his kingdom. Yet he must have had some good qualities,
for his daughters loved him, and when they saw what Medea had done for
AEson, they wished her to do the same for their father. Medea
pretended to consent, and prepared her cauldron as before. At her
request an old sheep was brought and plunged into the cauldron. Very
soon a bleating was heard in the kettle, and when the cover was
removed, a lamb jumped forth and ran frisking away into the meadow.
The daughters of Pelias saw the experiment with delight, and appointed
a time for their father to undergo the same operation. But Medea
prepared her cauldron for him in a very different way. She put in only
water and a few simple herbs. In the night she with the sisters
entered the bed chamber of the old king, while he and his guards slept
soundly under the influence of a spell cast upon them by Medea. The
daughters stood by the bedside with their weapons drawn, but hesitated
to strike, till Medea chid their irresolution. Then turning away their
faces, and giving random blows they smote him with their weapons.
He, starting from his sleep, cried out, “My daughters, what are you
doing? Will you kill your father?” Their hearts failed them and
their weapons fell from their hands, but Medea struck him a fatal
blow, and prevented his saying more.

Then they placed him in the cauldron, and Medea hastened to depart
in her serpent-drawn chariot before they discovered her treachery or
their vengeance would have been terrible. She escaped, however, but
had little enjoyment of the fruits of her crime. Jason, for whom she
had done so much, wishing to marry Creusa, princess of Corinth, put
away Medea. She, enraged at his ingratitude, called on the gods for
vengeance, sent a poisoned robe as a gift to the bride, and then
killing her own children, and setting fire to the palace, mounted
her serpent-drawn chariot and fled to Athens, where she married King
AEgeus, the father of Theseus, and we shall meet her again when we
come to the adventures of that hero.

The incantations of Medea will remind the reader of those of the
witches in “Macbeth.” The following lines are those which seem most
strikingly to recall the ancient model:

“Round about the cauldron go;
In the poisoned entrails throw.

Fillet of a fenny snake
In the cauldron boil and bake;
Eye of newt and toe of frog,
Wool of bat and tongue of dog,
Adder’s fork and blind-worm’s sting,
Lizard’s leg and howlet’s wing;

Maw of ravening salt-sea shark,
Root of hemlock digged in the dark,” etc.
Macbeth, Act IV. Scene I.

And again:

Macbeth.- What is’t you do?
Witches.- A deed without a name.

There is another story of Medea almost too revolting for record even
of a sorceress, a class of persons to whom both ancient and modern
poets have been accustomed to attribute every degree of atrocity. In
her flight from Colchis she had taken her young brother Absyrtus
with her. Finding the pursuing vessels of AEetes gaining upon the
Argonauts, she caused the lad to be killed and his limbs to be
strewn over the sea. AEetes on reaching the place found these
sorrowful traces of his murdered son; but while he tarried to
collect the scattered fragments and bestow upon them an honourable
interment, the Argonauts escaped.

In the poems of Campbell will be found a translation of one of the
choruses of the tragedy of “Medea,” where the poet Euripides has taken
advantage of the occasion to pay a glowing tribute to Athens, his
native city. It begins thus:

“O haggard queen! to Athens dost thou guide
Thy glowing chariot, steeped in kindred gore;
Or seek to hide thy damned parricide
Where peace and justice dwell for evermore?”