BULFINCH’S MYTHOLOGY

THE AGE OF FABLE

OR STORIES OF GODS AND HEROES

by Thomas Bulfinch

[1855]

CHAPTER XXIX

ADVENTURES OF ULYSSES – THE LOTUS EATERS – CYCLOPSE – CIRCE – SIRENS – SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS
– CALYPSO

RETURN OF ULYSSES

THE romantic poem of the Odyssey is now to engage our attention.
It narrates the wanderings of Ulysses (Odysseus in the Greek language)
in his return from Troy to his own kingdom Ithaca.

From Troy the vessels first made land at Ismarus, city of the
Ciconians, where, in a skirmish with the inhabitants, Ulysses lost six
men from each ship. Sailing thence, they were overtaken by a storm
which drove them for nine days along the sea till they reached the
country of the Lotus-eaters. Here, after watering, Ulysses sent
three of his men to discover who the inhabitants were. These men on
coming among the Lotus-eaters were kindly entertained by them, and
were given some of their own food, the lotus-plant, to eat. The effect
of this food was such that those who partook of it lost all thoughts
of home and wished to remain in that country. It was by main force
that Ulysses dragged these men away, and he was even obliged to tie
them under the benches of his ships.*

* Tennyson in the “Lotos-eaters,” has charmingly expressed the
dreamy languid feeling which the lotus food is said to have produced.

“How sweet it were, hearing the downward stream
With half-shut eyes ever to seem
Falling asleep in a half-dream!
To dream and dream, like yonder amber light
Which will not leave the myrrh-bush on the height;
To hear each other’s whispered speech;
Eating the Lotos, day by day,
To watch the crisping ripples on the beach,
And tender curving lines of creamy spray:
To lend our hearts and spirits wholly
To the influence of mild-minded melancholy;
To muse and brood and live again in memory,
With those old faces of our infancy
Heaped over with a mound of grass,
Two handfuls of white dust, shut in an urn of brass.”

They next arrived at the country of the Cyclopses. The Cyclopses
were giants, who inhabited an island of which they were the only
possessors. The name means “round eye,” and these giants were so
called because they had but one eye, and that placed in the middle
of the forehead. They dwelt in caves and fed on the wild productions
of the island and on what their flocks yielded, for they were
shepherds. Ulysses left the main body of his ships at anchor, and with
one vessel went to the Cyclopses’ island to explore for supplies. He
landed with his companions, carrying with them a jar of wine for a
present, and coming to a large cave they entered it, and finding no
one within examined its contents. They found it stored with the
richest of the flock, quantities of cheese, pails and bowls of milk,
lambs and kids in their pens, all in nice order. Presently arrived the
master of the cave, Polyphemus, bearing an immense bundle of firewood,
which he threw down before the cavern’s mouth. He then drove into
the cave the sheep and goats to be milked, and, entering, rolled to
the cave’s mouth an enormous rock, that twenty oxen could not draw.
Next he sat down and milked his ewes, preparing a part for cheese, and
setting the rest aside for his customary drink. Then, turning round
his great eye, he discerned the strangers, and growled out to them,
demanding who they were, and where from. Ulysses replied most
humbly, stating that they were Greeks, from the great expedition
that had lately won so much glory in the conquest of Troy; that they
were now on their way home, and finished by imploring his
hospitality in the name of the gods. Polyphemus deigned no answer, but
reaching out his hand seized two of the Greeks, whom he hurled against
the side of the cave, and dashed out their brains. He proceeded to
devour them with great relish, and having made a hearty meal,
stretched himself out on the floor to sleep. Ulysses was tempted to
seize the opportunity and plunge his sword into him as be slept, but
recollected that it would only expose them all to certain destruction,
as the rock with which the giant had closed up the door was far beyond
their power to remove, and they would therefore be in hopeless
imprisonment. Next morning the giant seized two more of the Greeks,
and despatched them in the same manner as their companions, feasting
on their flesh till no fragment was left. He then moved away the
rock from the door, drove out his flocks, and went out, carefully
replacing the barrier after him. When he was gone Ulysses planned
how he might take vengeance for his murdered friends, and effect his
escape with his surviving companions. He made his men prepare a
massive bar of wood cut by the Cyclops for a staff, which they found
in the cave. They sharpened the end of it, and seasoned it in the
fire, and hid it under the straw on the cavern floor. Then four of the
boldest were selected, with whom Ulysses joined himself as a fifth.
The Cyclops came home at evening, rolled away the stone and drove in
his flock as usual. After milking them and making his arrangements
as before, he seized two more of Ulysses’ companions and dashed
their brains out, and made his evening meal upon them as he had on the
others. After he had supped, Ulysses approaching him handed him a bowl
of wine, saying, “Cyclops, this is wine; taste and drink after thy
meal of men’s flesh.” He took and drank it, and was hugely delighted
with it, and called for more. Ulysses supplied him once again, which
pleased the giant so much that he promised him as a favour that he
should be the last of the party devoured. He asked his name, to
which Ulysses replied, “My name is Noman.”

After his supper the giant lay down to repose, and was soon found
asleep. Then Ulysses with his four select friends thrust the end of
the stake into the fire till it was all one burning coal, then poising
it exactly above the giant’s only eye, they buried it deeply into
the socket, twirling it round as a carpenter does his auger. The
howling monster with his outcry filled the cavern, and Ulysses with
his aids nimbly got out of his way and concealed themselves in the
cave. He, bellowing, called aloud on all the Cyclopses dwelling in the
caves around him, far and near. They on his cry flocked round the den,
and inquired what grievous hurt had caused him to sound such an
alarm and break their slumbers. He replied, “O friends, I die, and
Noman gives the blow.” They answered, “If no man hurts thee it is
the stroke of Jove, and thou must bear it.” So saying, they left him
groaning.

Next morning the Cyclops rolled away the stone to let his flock
out to pasture, but planted himself in the door of the cave to feel of
all as they went out, that Ulysses and his men should not escape
with them. But Ulysses had made his men harness the rams of the
flock three abreast, with osiers which they found on the floor of
the cave. To the middle ram of the three one of the Greeks suspended
himself, so protected by the exterior rams on either side. As they
passed, the giant felt of the animals’ backs and sides, but never
thought of their bellies; so the men all passed safe, Ulysses
himself being on the last one that passed. When they had got a few
paces from the cavern, Ulysses and his friends released themselves
from their rams, and drove a good part of the flock down to the
shore to their boat. They put them aboard with all haste, then
pushed off from the shore, and when at a safe distance Ulysses shouted
out, “Cyclops, the gods have well requited thee for thy atrocious
deeds. Know it is Ulysses to whom thou owest thy shameful loss of
sight.” The Cyclops, hearing this, seized a rock that projected from
the side of the mountain, and rending it from its bed he lifted it
high in the air, then exerting all his force, hurled it in the
direction of the voice. Down came the mass, just clearing the vessel’s
stern. The ocean, at the plunge of the huge rock, heaved the ship
towards the land, so that it barely escaped being swamped by the
waves. When they had with the utmost difficulty pulled off shore,
Ulysses was about to hail the giant again, but his friends besought
him not to do so. He could not forbear, however, letting the giant
know that they had escaped his missile, but waited till they had
reached a safer distance than before. The giant answered them with
curses, but Ulysses and his friends plied their oars vigorously, and
soon regained their companions.

Ulysses next arrived at the island of Aeolus. To this monarch
Jupiter had intrusted the government of the winds, to send them
forth or retain them at his will. He treated Ulysses hospitably, and
at his departure gave him, tied up in a leathern bag with a silver
string, such winds as might be hurtful and dangerous, commanding
fair winds to blow the barks towards their country. Nine days they
sped before the wind, and all that time Ulysses had stood at the helm,
without sleep. At last quite exhausted he lay down to sleep. While
he slept, the crew conferred together about the mysterious bag, and
concluded it must contain treasures given by the hospitable King
Aeolus to their commander. Tempted to secure some portion for
themselves, they loosed the string, when immediately the winds
rushed forth. The ships were driven far from their course, and back
again to the island they had just left. Aeolus was so indignant at
their folly that he refused to assist them further, and they were
obliged to labour over their course once more by means of their oars.

THE LAESTRYGONIANS

Their next adventure was with the barbarous tribe of Laestrygonians.
The vessels all pushed into the harbour, tempted by the secure
appearance of the cove, completely land-locked; only Ulysses moored
his vessel without. As soon as the Laestrygonians found the ships
completely in their power they attacked them, heaving huge stones
which broke and overturned them, and with their spears despatched
the seamen as they struggled in the water. All the vessels with
their crews were destroyed, except Ulysses’ own ship, which had
remained outside, and finding no safety but in flight, he exhorted his
men to ply their oars vigorously, and they escaped.

With grief for their slain companions mixed with joy at their own
escape, they pursued their way till they arrived at the Aeaean isle,
where Circe dwelt, the daughter of the sun. Landing here, Ulysses
climbed a hill, and gazing round saw no signs of habitation except
in one spot at the centre of the island, where he perceived a palace
embowered with trees. He sent forward one-half of his crew, under
the command of Eurylochus, to see what prospect of hospitality they
might find. As they approached the palace, they found themselves
surrounded by lions, tigers, and wolves, not fierce, but tamed by
Circe’s art, for she was a powerful magician. All these animals had
once been men, but had been changed by Circe’s enchantments into the
forms of beasts. The sounds of soft music were heard from within,
and a sweet female voice singing. Eurylochus called aloud and the
goddess came forth and invited them in; they all gladly entered except
Eurylochus, who suspected danger. The goddess conducted her guests
to a seat, and had them served with wine and other delicacies. When
they had feasted heartily, she touched them one by one with her
wand, and they became immediately changed into swine, in “head,
body, voice, and bristles,” yet with their intellects as before. She
shut them in her sties and supplied them with acorns and such other
things as swine love.

Eurylochus hurried back to the ship and told the tale. Ulysses
thereupon determined to go himself, and try if by any means he might
deliver his companions. As he strode onward alone, he met a youth
who addressed him familiarly, appearing to be acquainted with his
adventures. He announced himself as Mercury, and informed Ulysses of
the arts of Circe, and of the danger of approaching her. As Ulysses
was not to be dissuaded from his attempt, Mercury provided him with
a sprig of the plant Moly, of wonderful power to resist sorceries, and
instructed him how to act. Ulysses proceeded, and reaching the
palace was courteously received by Circe, who entertained him as she
had done his companions, and after he had eaten and drank, touched him
with her wand, saying, “Hence, seek the sty and wallow with thy
friends.” But he, instead of obeying, drew his sword and rushed upon
her with fury in his countenance. She fell on her knees and begged for
mercy. He dictated a solemn oath that she would release his companions
and practise no further harm against him or them; and she repeated it,
at the same time promising to dismiss them all in safety after
hospitably entertaining them. She was as good as her word. The men
were restored to their shapes, the rest of the crew summoned from
the shore, and the whole magnificently entertained day after day, till
Ulysses seemed to have forgotten his native land, and to have
reconciled himself to an inglorious life of ease and pleasure.

At length his companions recalled him to nobler sentiments, and he
received their admonition gratefully. Circe aided their departure, and
instructed them how to pass safely by the coast of the Sirens. The
Sirens were sea-nymphs who had the power of charming by their song all
who heard them, so that the unhappy mariners were irresistibly
impelled to cast themselves into the sea to their destruction. Circe
directed Ulysses to fill the ears of his seamen with wax, so that they
should not hear the strain; and to cause himself to be bound to the
mast, and his people to be strictly enjoined, whatever he might say or
do, by no means to release him till they should have passed the
Sirens’ island. Ulysses obeyed these directions. He filled the ears of
his people with wax, and suffered them to bind him with cords firmly
to the mast. As they approached the Sirens’ island, the sea was
calm, and over the waters came the notes of music so ravishing and
attractive that Ulysses struggled to get loose, and by cries and signs
to his people begged to be released; but they, obedient to his
previous orders, sprang forward and bound him still faster. They
held on their course, and the music grew fainter till it ceased to
be heard, when with joy Ulysses gave his companions the signal to
unseal their ears, and they relieved him from his bonds.

The imagination of a modern poet, Keats, has discovered for us the
thoughts that passed through the brains of the victims of Circe, after
their transformation. In his “Endymion” he represents one of them, a
monarch in the guise of an elephant, addressing the sorceress in human
language, thus:

“I sue not for my happy crown again;
I sue not for my phalanx on the plain;
I sue not for my lone, my widowed wife;
I sue not for my ruddy drops of life,
My children fair, my lovely girls and boys;
I will forget them; I will pass these joys,
Ask nought so heavenward; so too- too high;
Only I pray, as fairest boon, to die;
To be delivered from this cumbrous flesh,
From this gross, detestable, filthy mesh,
And merely given to the cold, bleak air.
Have mercy, goddess! Circe, feel my prayer!”

SCYLLA AND CHARYBDIS

Ulysses had been warned by Circe of the two monsters Scylla and
Charybdis. We have already met with Scylla in the story of Glaucus,
and remember that she was once a beautiful maiden and was changed into
a snaky monster by Circe. She dwelt in a cave high up on the cliff,
from whence she was accustomed to thrust forth her long necks (for she
had six heads), and in each of her mouths seize one of the crew of
every vessel passing within reach. The other terror, Charybdis, was
a gulf, nearly on a level with the water. Thrice each day the water
rushed into a frightful chasm, and thrice was disgorged. Any vessel
coming near the whirlpool when the tide was rushing in must inevitably
be ingulfed; not Neptune himself could save it.

On approaching the haunt of the dread monsters, Ulysses kept
strict watch to discover them. The roar of the waters as Charybdis
ingulfed them, gave warning at a distance, but Scylla could nowhere be
discerned. While Ulysses and his men watched with anxious eyes the
dreadful whirlpool, they were not equally on their guard from the
attack of Scylla, and the monster, darting forth her snaky heads,
caught six of his men, and bore them away, shrieking, to her den. It
was the saddest sight Ulysses had yet seen; to behold his friends thus
sacrificed and hear their cries, unable to afford them any assistance.

Circe had warned him of another danger. After passing Scylla and
Charybdis the next land he would make was Thrinakia, an island whereon
were pastured the cattle of Hyperion, the Sun, tended by his daughters
Lampetia and Phaethusa. These flocks must not be violated, whatever
the wants of the voyagers might be. If this injunction were
transgressed destruction was sure to fall on the offenders.

Ulysses would willingly have passed the island of the Sun without
stopping, but his companions so urgently pleaded for the rest and
refreshment that would be derived from anchoring and passing the night
on shore, that Ulysses yielded. He bound them, however, with an oath
that they would not touch one of the animals of the sacred flocks
and herds, but content themselves with what provision they yet had
left of the supply which Circe had put on board. So long as this
supply lasted the people kept their oath, but contrary winds
detained them at the island for a month, and after consuming all their
stock of provisions, they were forced to rely upon the birds and
fishes they could catch. Famine pressed them, and at length one day,
in the absence of Ulysses, they slew some of the cattle, vainly
attempting to make amends for the deed by offering from them a portion
to the offended powers. Ulysses, on his return to the shore, was
horror-struck at perceiving what they had done, and the more so on
account of the portentous signs which followed. The skins crept on the
ground, and the joints of meat lowed on the spits while roasting.

The wind becoming fair they sailed from the island. They had not
gone far when the weather changed, and a storm of thunder and
lightning ensued. A stroke of lightning shattered their mast, which in
its fall killed the pilot. At last the vessel itself came to pieces.
The keel and mast floating side by side, Ulysses formed of them a
raft, to which he clung, and, the wind changing, the waves bore him to
Calypso’s island. All the rest of the crew perished.

The following allusion to the topics we have just been considering
is from Milton’s “Comus,” line 252:

“…I have often heard
My mother Circe and the Sirens three,
Amidst the flowery-kirtled Naiades,
Culling their potent herbs and baneful drugs,
Who as they sung would take the prisoned soul
And lap it in Elysium. Scylla wept,
And chid her barking waves into attention,
And fell Charybdis murmured soft applause.”

Scylla and Charybdis have become proverbial, to denote opposite
dangers which beset one’s course. See Proverbial Expressions, no. 8.

CALYPSO

Calypso was a sea-nymph, which name denotes a numerous class of
female divinities of lower rank, yet sharing many of the attributes of
the gods. Calypso received Ulysses hospitably, entertained him
magnificently, became enamoured of him, and wished to retain him for
ever, conferring on him immortality. But be persisted in his
resolution to return to his country and his wife and son. Calypso at
last received the command of Jove to dismiss him. Mercury brought
the message to her, and found her in her grotto, which is thus
described by Homer:

“A garden vine, luxuriant on all sides,
Mantled the spacious cavern, cluster-hung
Profuse; four fountains of serenest lymph,
Their sinuous course pursuing side by side,
Strayed all around, and everywhere appeared
Meadows of softest verdure, purpled o’er
With violets; it was a scene to fill
A god from heaven with wonder and delight.”

Calypso with much reluctance proceeded to obey the commands of
Jupiter. She supplied Ulysses with the means of constructing a raft,
provisioned it well for him, and gave him a favouring gale. He sped on
his course prosperously for many days, till at length, when in sight
of land, a storm arose that broke his mast, and threatened to rend the
raft asunder. In this crisis he was seen by a compassionate sea-nymph,
who in the form of a cormorant alighted on the raft, and presented him
a girdle, directing him to bind it beneath his breast, and if he
should be compelled to trust himself to the waves, it would buoy him
up and enable him by swimming to reach the land.

Fenelon, in his romance of “Telemachus,” has given us the adventures
of the son of Ulysses in search of his father. Among other places at
which he arrived, following on his father’s footsteps, was Calypso’s
isle, and, as in the former case, the goddess tried every art to
keep him with her, and offered to share her immortality with him.
But Minerva, who in the shape of Mentor accompanied him and governed
all his movements, made him repel her allurements, and when no other
means of escape could be found, the two friends leaped from a cliff
into the sea, and swam to a vessel which lay becalmed off shore. Byron
alludes to this leap of Telemachus and Mentor in the following stanza:

“But not in silence pass Calypso’s isles,
The sister tenants of the middle deep;
There for the weary still a haven smiles,
Though the fair goddess long has ceased to weep,
And o’er her cliffs a fruitless watch to keep
For him who dared prefer a mortal bride.
Here too his boy essayed the dreadful leap,
Stern Mentor urged from high to yonder tide;
While thus of both bereft the nymph-queen doubly sighed.”