BULFINCH’S MYTHOLOGY

THE AGE OF FABLE

OR STORIES OF GODS AND HEROES

by Thomas Bulfinch

[1855]

CHAPTER XIX

HERCULES – HEBE AND GANYMEDE

HERCULES

HERCULES was the son of Jupiter and Alcmena. As Juno was always
hostile to the offspring of her husband by mortal mothers, she
declared war against Hercules from his birth. She sent two serpents to
destroy him as he lay in his cradle, but the precocious infant
strangled them with his own hands. He was, however, by the arts of
Juno rendered subject to Eurystheus and compelled to perform all his
commands. Eurystheus enjoined upon him a succession of desperate
adventures, which are called the “Twelve Labours of Hercules.” The
first was the fight with the Nemean lion. The valley of Nemea was
infested by a terrible lion. Eurystheus ordered Hercules to bring
him the skin of this monster. After using in vain his club and
arrows against the lion, Hercules strangled the animal with his hands.
He returned carrying the dead lion on his shoulders; but Eurystheus
was so frightened at the sight of it and at this proof of the
prodigious strength of the hero, that he ordered him to deliver the
account of his exploits in future outside the town.

His next labour was the slaughter of the Hydra. This monster ravaged
the country of Argos, and dwelt in a swamp near the well of Amymone.
This well had been discovered by Amymone when the country was
suffering from drought, and the story was that Neptune, who loved her,
had permitted her to touch the rock with his trident, and a spring
of three outlets burst forth. Here the Hydra took up his position, and
Hercules was sent to destroy him. The Hydra had nine heads, of which
the middle one was immortal. Hercules struck off its heads with his
club, but in the place of the head knocked off, two new ones grew
forth each time. At length with the assistance of his faithful servant
Iolaus, he burned away the heads of the Hydra, and buried the ninth or
immortal one under a huge rock.

Another labour was the cleaning of the Augean stables. Augeas,
king of Elis, had a herd of three thousand oxen, whose stalls had
not been cleansed for thirty years. Hercules brought the rivers
Alpheus and Peneus through them, and cleansed them thoroughly in one
day.

His next labour was of a more delicate kind. Admeta, the daughter of
Eurystheus, longed to obtain the girdle of the queen of the Amazons,
and Eurystheus ordered Hercules to go and get it. The Amazons were a
nation of women. They were very warlike and held several flourishing
cities. It was their custom to bring up only the female children;
the boys were either sent away to the neighbouring nations or put to
death. Hercules was accompanied by a number of volunteers, and after
various adventures at last reached the country of the Amazons.
Hippolyta, the queen, received him kindly, and consented to yield
him her girdle, but Juno, taking the form of an Amazon, went and
persuaded the rest that the strangers were carrying off their queen.
They instantly armed and came in great numbers down to the ship.
Hercules, thinking that Hippolyta, had acted treacherously, slew
her, and taking her girdle made sail homewards.

Another task enjoined him was to bring to Eurystheus the oxen of
Geryon, a monster with three bodies, who dwelt in the island of
Erytheia (the red), so called because it lay at the west, under the
rays of the setting sun. This description is thought to apply to
Spain, of which Geryon was king. After traversing various countries,
Hercules reached at length the frontiers of Libya and Europe, where he
raised the two mountains of Calpe and Abyla, as monuments of his
progress, or, according to another account, rent one mountain into two
and left half on each side, forming the straits of Gibraltar, the
two mountains being called the Pillars of Hercules. The oxen were
guarded by the giant Eurytion and his two-headed dog, but Hercules
killed the giant and his dog and brought away the oxen in safety to
Eurystheus.

The most difficult labour of all was getting the golden apples of
the Hesperides, for Hercules did not know where to find them. These
were the apples which Juno had received at her wedding from the
goddess of the Earth, and which she had intrusted to the keeping of
the daughters of Hesperus, assisted by a watchful dragon. After
various adventures Hercules arrived at Mount Atlas in Africa. Atlas
was one of the Titans who had warred against the gods, and after
they were subdued, Atlas was condemned to bear on his shoulders the
weight of the heavens. He was the father of the Hesperides, and
Hercules thought might, if any one could, find the apples and bring
them to him. But how to send Atlas away from his post, or bear up
the heavens while he was gone? Hercules took the burden on his own
shoulders, and sent Atlas to seek the apples. He returned with them,
and though somewhat reluctantly, took his burden upon his shoulders
again, and let Hercules return with the apples to Eurystheus.

Milton, in his “Comus,” makes the Hesperides the daughters of
Hesperus and niece of Atlas:

“…amidst the gardens fair
Of Hesperus and his daughters three,
That sing about the golden tree.”

The poets, led by the analogy of the lovely appearance of the
western sky at sunset, viewed the west as a region of brightness and
glory. Hence they placed in it the Isles of the Blest, the ruddy
Isle Erytheia, on which the bright oxen of Geryon were pastured, and
the Isle of the Hesperides. The apples are supposed by some to be
the oranges of Spain, of which the Greeks had heard some obscure
accounts.

A celebrated exploit of Hercules was his victory over Antaeus.
Antaeus, the son of Terra, the Earth, was a mighty giant and wrestler,
whose strength was invincible so long as he remained in contact with
his mother Earth. He compelled all strangers who came to his country
to wrestle with him, on condition that if conquered (as they all were)
they should be put to death. Hercules encountered him, and finding
that it was of no avail to throw him, for he always rose with
renewed strength from every fall, he lifted him up from the earth
and strangled him in the air.

Cacus was a huge giant, who inhabited a cave on Mount Aventine,
and plundered the surrounding country. When Hercules was driving
home the oxen of Geryon, Cacus stole part of the cattle, while the
hero slept. That their footprints might not serve to show where they
had been driven, be dragged them backward by their tails to his
cave; so their tracks all seemed to show that they had gone in the
opposite direction. Hercules was deceived by this stratagem, and would
have failed to find his oxen, if it had not happened that in driving
the remainder of the herd past the cave where the stolen ones were
concealed, those within began to low, and were thus discovered.
Cacus was slain by Hercules.

The last exploit we shall record was bringing Cerberus from the
lower world. Hercules descended into Hades, accompanied by Mercury and
Minerva. He obtained permission from Pluto to carry Cerberus to the
upper air, provided he could do it without the use of weapons; and
in spite of the monster’s struggling, he seized him, held him fast,
and carried him to Eurystheus, and afterwards brought him back
again. When he was in Hades he obtained the liberty of Theseus, his
admirer and imitator, who had been detained a prisoner there for an
unsuccessful attempt to carry off Proserpine.

Hercules in a fit of madness killed his friend Iphitus, and was
condemned for this offence to become the slave of Queen Omphale for
three years. While in this service the hero’s nature seemed changed.
He lived effeminately, wearing at times the dress of a woman, and
spinning wool with the hand-maidens of Omphale, while the queen wore
his lion’s skin. When this service was ended he married Dejanira and
lived in peace with her three years. On one occasion as he was
travelling with his wife, they came to a river, across which the
Centaur Nessus carried travellers for a stated fee. Hercules himself
forded the river, but gave Dejanira to Nessus to be carried across.
Nessus attempted to run away with her, but Hercules heard her cries
and shot an arrow into the heart of Nessus. The dying Centaur told
Dejanira to take a portion of his blood and keep it, as it might be
used as a charm to preserve the love of her husband.

Dejanira did so, and before long fancied she had occasion to use it.
Hercules in one of his conquests had taken prisoner a fair maiden,
named Iole, of whom he seemed more fond than Dejanira approved. When
Hercules was about to offer sacrifices to the gods in honour of his
victory, he sent to his wife for a white robe to use on the
occasion. Dejanira, thinking it a good opportunity to try her
love-spell, steeped the garment in the blood of Nessus. We are to
suppose she took care to wash out all traces of it, but the magic
power remained, and as soon as the garment became warm on the body
of Hercules the poison penetrated into all his limbs and caused him
the most intense agony. In his frenzy he seized Lichas, who had
brought him the fatal robe, and hurled him into the sea. He wrenched
off the garment, but it stuck to his flesh, and with it he tore away
whole pieces of his body. In this state he embarked on board a ship
and was conveyed home. Dejanira, on seeing what she had unwittingly
done, hung herself. Hercules, prepared to die, ascended Mount OEta,
where he built a funeral pile of trees, gave his bow and arrows to
Philoctetes, and laid himself down on the pile, his head resting on
his club, and his lion’s skin spread over him. With a countenance as
serene as if he were taking his place at a festal board he commanded
Philoctetes to apply the torch. The flames spread apace and soon
invested the whole mass.

Milton thus alludes to the frenzy of Hercules:

“As when Alcides* from OEchalia crowned
With conquest, felt the envenomed robe, and tore,
Through pain, up by the roots Thessalian pines
And Lichas from the top of OEta threw
Into the Euboic Sea.”

* Alcides. a name of Hercules.

The gods themselves felt troubled at seeing the champion of the
earth so brought to his end. But Jupiter with cheerful countenance
thus addressed them: “I am pleased to see your concern, my princes,
and am gratified to perceive that I am the ruler of a loyal people,
and that my son enjoys your favour. For although your interest in
him arises from his noble deeds, yet it is not the less gratifying
to me. But now I say to you, Fear not. He who conquered all else is
not to be conquered by those flames which you see blazing on Mount
OEta. Only his mother’s share in him can perish; what he derived
from me is immortal. I shall take him, dead to earth, to the
heavenly shores, and I require of you all to receive him kindly. If
any of you feel grieved at his attaining this honour, yet no one can
deny that he has deserved it.” The gods all gave their assent; Juno
only heard the closing words with some displeasure that she should
be so particularly pointed at, yet not enough to make her regret the
determination of her husband. So when the flames had consumed the
mother’s share of Hercules, the diviner part, instead of being injured
thereby, seemed to start forth with new vigour, to assume a more lofty
port and a more awful dignity. Jupiter enveloped him in a cloud, and
took him up in a four-horse chariot to dwell among the stars. As he
took his place in heaven, Atlas felt the added weight.

Juno, now reconciled to him, gave him her daughter Hebe in marriage.

The poet Schiller, in one of his pieces called the “Ideal and Life,”
illustrates the contrast between the practical and the imaginative
in some beautiful stanzas, of which the last two may be thus
translated:

“Deep degraded to a coward’s slave,
Endless contests bore Alcides brave,
Through the thorny path of suffering led;
Slew the Hydra, crushed the lion’s might,
Threw himself, to bring his friend to light,
Living, in the skiff that bears the dead.
All the torments, every toil of earth
Juno’s hatred on him could impose,
Well he bore them, from his fated birth
To life’s grandly mournful close.

“Till the god, the earthly part forsaken,
From the man in flames asunder taken,
Drank the heavenly ether’s purer breath.
Joyous in the new unwonted lightness,
Soared he upwards to celestial brightness,
Earth’s dark heavy burden lost in death.
High Olympus gives harmonious greeting
To the hall where reigns his sire adored;
Youth’s bright goddess, with a blush at meeting,
Gives the nectar to her lord.”

HEBE AND GANYMEDE

Hebe, the daughter of Juno, and goddess of youth, was cup-bearer
to the gods. The usual story is that she resigned her office on
becoming the wife of Hercules. But there is another statement which
our countryman Crawford, the sculptor, has adopted in his group of
Hebe and Ganymede, now in the Athenaeum gallery. According to this,
Hebe was dismissed from her office in consequence of a fall which
she met with one day when in attendance on the gods. Her successor was
Ganymede, a Trojan boy, whom Jupiter, in the disguise of an eagle,
seized and carried off from the midst of his play-fellows on Mount
Ida, bore up to heaven, and installed in the vacant place.

Tennyson, in his “Palace of Art,” describes among the decorations on
the walls a picture representing this legend:

“There, too, flushed Ganymede, his rosy thigh
Half buried in the eagle’s down,
Sole as a flying star shot through the sky
Above the pillared town.”

And in Shelley’s “Prometheus” Jupiter calls to his cup-bearer thus:

“Pour forth heaven’s wine, Idaean Ganymede,
And let it fill the Daedal cups like fire.”

The beautiful legend of the “Choice of Hercules” may be found in the
“Tatler,” No. 97.