Herakles, the Hero of Thebes, and Other Heroes of the Myth

A narrow pass between the hills admits you into a flowery meadow. It was here that Persephone played when a child. There are two salt lakes in the plain in which only priests were allowed to fish in the olden times. There, too, is a well where you stop for a cup of water as people have done through the long ages.

The plain of Eleusis is separated from Attica by a range of low hills clad with fields of wheat and barley. At the foot of the acropolis is the sickly little village of Eleusis, but the Island of Salamis rises across the blue waters of the bay like a fairyland shining through a delicate atmosphere of violet tint. This was the kingdom of Keleos and his son Triptolemos, the Hero of Agriculture, and it was the scene of the story of Demeter and Persephone, the story which brings us to the Hero of Eleusis.

It is said that Kronos and Rhea were the father and mother of the greatest of the gods, Zeus, Poseidon, and Hades or (Pluto) and their sister Demeter, the mother of fertility. Though men might plough the fields and the rain moisten the swelling seed-grains, it was Demeter who gave the vital touch which caused the new life to spring up.

Demeter had one beloved daughter, Persephone, on whom she bestowed all the tenderness of her divine mother-heart. One day Persephone went out into the blooming meadows to play with her companions. The fields were gay with roses, violets, and lilies. The yellow crocus, the asphodel, and the purple and pink narcissus made bank and by-path seem like a soft carpet and filled the air with sweet fragrance.

Persephone stooped to pluck a flower of unusual beauty, when the earth suddenly opened and Hades appeared with a splendid chariot drawn by fiery black horses. He seized Persephone, and placing her on his chariot, drove away to his kingdom under the earth. Persephone uttered piercing cries, praying to the gods and imploring men to come to her rescue. But all in vain. Zeus looked on with approval, for he knew that his good brother ought not to be condemned to reign alone in the dread realms of darkness.

Now there was a goddess of the night, a torch-bearer who lived in a dark cave. Her name was Hekate and she knew the secrets of lonely forests and cross-roads and the gloomy underground world. She heard the shrieks of the maiden when Hades seized her; and Helios, too, the sun-god who sees everything, saw him bear her away.

The mother, Demeter, also, heard the cries of her daughter, and an unspeakable grief took possession of her. She wandered from place to place, taking neither food nor sleep, beseeching everyone to tell her where she could find her child. But no one could give her any information. She yoked her winged snakes to her car and drove with lighted torch through every country. Wherever she went she was received gladly by the people, for she stopped to teach them something of agriculture and left her blessing with them when she departed.

CHAPTER XXX

DEMETER’S GRIEF

On the tenth day of her wanderings she met Hekate, who said: “Lovable Demeter, who hath robbed thee of thy daughter and plunged thee into sorrow? I heard her cries when she was carried off, but I could not see who it was that took her. There is one, however, who sees everything, Helios, and he may tell thee where thy daughter is concealed.”

Demeter gladly took the hint, and with Hekate she set out to find Helios, and when they saw his horses and chariot they stationed themselves where they could speak to him. The venerable goddess said to him: “If ever, oh, Helios, I have pleased thee in word or deed, I pray thee look down from the heavens and tell me truly whether it is a god or a mortal that hath stolen my daughter.”

“Honored Queen,” replied Helios, “I willingly tell thee all I know. Hades hath taken thy daughter and led her into the gloomy kingdom below. But Zeus is the author of this deed, for he gave his permission to Hades to make Persephone his wife. Yet thou hast no need to grieve, for Hades is a loving husband and hath given thy daughter an honorable place as queen of his realm.”

When Demeter heard this her grief was unbounded and her anger terrible. She left the abode of the gods on Mount Olympos and went down to earth, where she assumed the form of a mortal woman. In her travels on the earth she reached Eleusis, and sat down on a stone near a spring, from which the people drew water.

As she sat there two beautiful maidens, daughters of Keleos, the King of Eleusis, came to the spring to fill their bronze pitchers with water. They saw the stately woman in garments of mourning, and, approaching her, asked with sympathy whence she came and why she sat alone so far from the city instead of coming to the houses, where the women would gladly show her every kindness in word and deed.

Demeter replied: “May the Olympian gods bestow all good gifts upon you, my daughters. Have pity on me and lead me to the house of some chief, where I may be a servant, doing such work as an old woman can perform. I can take care of a new-born babe, guard the house, tend the beds, and teach serving-women housework.”

“Venerable lady,” answered one of the daughters, “I thank thee for thy good wishes, and I will tell thee the names of the foremost men of the city. There are several chiefs of note in Eleusis, but our father is the king and he will give thee royal welcome. Let us take thee to our mother, Metaneira, and she will not let thee go into a strange house. She has a little son, and if thou wilt bring him up well she will give thee rich gifts.”

Demeter consented to go, and the girls, after filling their jugs, hastened home, where they told the queen, their mother, what they had seen and heard. The beautiful Metaneira sent them to call in the aged woman, and they ran back to the spot where they had left her. They took her by the hand and led her to their home, where they presented her to their mother.

Metaneira had her baby in her arms and received Demeter kindly. “Welcome, my dear woman,” she said, “thou hast come in good time. But I cannot treat thee as a servant, for thou dost appear like a princess.

“The gods often visit us with misfortunes, which we must bear as best we can. Let this home be thine and I will trust this babe of mine to thee, that thou mayst rear him. We had no hope of his living when he was born, but the gods had pity on me and let him live. For this reason he is much dearer to me. Care for him most lovingly and I will give thee a fitting reward.”

“My greeting I give to thee, too, dear lady,” answered Demeter. “May the gods give thee all thy desires. I will tend thy child with affection as if he were my own.”

Demeter made herself at home in the large hall of Keleos and undertook the bringing up of the boy. She gave him no other food but ambrosia, that he might never grow feeble with old age. The child throve wonderfully and was a joy to everybody. The father and mother were astonished at his rapid growth and handsome face.

But one night Metaneira wished to see how her son was getting along, and, going into the room where Demeter was tending him, saw a strange sight, for the supposed old woman held him over a fire like a brand. Metaneira, terribly frightened, cried out, “Oh, my child, the stranger is burning thee!”

But the goddess grew angry, took the child out of the fire, and setting it down on the ground, made reply: “Surely mortals are blind and incapable of telling good from evil. I vow to thee by the waters of the Styx that I have rendered thy beloved son immortal. I put him on the fire that it should render his mortal flesh impervious to the ills of men. For thee it is an eternal honor that I have lived in thy house and let thee sit in my presence.”

At that instant Demeter threw off her disguise as an old woman and appeared in all her glory as a goddess. Her face shone like the sun, and a heavenly odor was shed from her robe, and her golden hair glittered as it fell over her shoulders.

“Know that I am the goddess Demeter,” she said, “who am honored by mortals and immortals. Thou shalt hasten to bid the whole populace of Eleusis to build me a great temple above the spring on the mountain.”

Metaneira was speechless with astonishment at what she had heard and seen. She began to tremble and did not even take heed of her child, who sat on the floor looking at them with wonder. She went at once to her husband and told him all that had happened. King Keleos called his people together in a general assembly and ordered a beautiful temple to be built on the acropolis in honor of Demeter.

The people loved their king and believed his words, and they went to work at once to build the temple. They set about it with such zeal that it was finished in one day, for the goddess gave them divine strength and directed the work. Demeter took up her abode in the temple and remained away from the other gods, still mourning over the loss of her daughter.

CHAPTER XXXI

DEMETER’S JOY

Persephone did not return, and the angry goddess grew more angry. She determined to punish the gods, even though it brought suffering to mankind. Indeed there was no other way to punish them. So she forbade the earth to bring forth any more fruit, and there was a great famine. In vain did the oxen pull the plough through the field. In vain did the farmer sow the grain. The land was covered with stubble. No flower sprang up on the parched earth; the starving people had no sacrifice to offer to the gods, and their altars were left without the incense arising from sacred offerings.

Now the gods loved the praises of men, and the incense from their altars was most precious to them. They complained to Zeus because they were deprived of their incense, and Zeus saw the cause of it. He sent the rainbow-winged Iris to call Demeter back to Mount Olympos.

The beautiful messenger flew like a sunbeam through the space between heaven and earth, and soon reached Eleusis. She found Demeter in her temple and said to her, “Dear Mother, I bring a message to thee from the great god Zeus. He commands thee to return to the abode of the immortal gods, and his command no one dares to disobey.”

But Demeter received the command with scorn, so Zeus sent all the gods, one after another, to entreat her to return, and he sent promises of beautiful gifts and courtly honors, but Demeter remained unmoved. “The earth shall yield no fruits,” she said, “nor will I return to the company of the gods until I behold with mine own eyes my beautiful daughter.”

Then Zeus sent Hermes to Hades to persuade him with sweet words to give up his wife and send her back to her mother since Demeter’s anger could not be appeased without her. Hermes went down to the under-world to the King of the Dead, and said to him: “Immortal Hades, father Zeus has charged me to take thy wife from this dark realm back to the light of day that her mother may see her, for the anger of the goddess cannot be appeased. In her wrath she is starving men and depriving the gods of the honors that mortals bestow on them. She hath left the home of the gods and will not abide with them. Neither will she speak to them, but lives alone in her temple at Eleusis.”

The grim king smiled and said to his wife, “Persephone, my queen, go to thy blue-robed mother and appease her wrath. The winter is over and thou must see the light of the sun. But first thou shalt eat with me of the pomegranate, the apple of love, for thou dost love me and this shall keep thee in remembrance of me.”

Then Persephone took from the king the pomegranate and ate it, for the grim Hades had made her truly a queen and had done honors to her. But she was glad to return to her mother and the blessed light of the day. She mounted the chariot. Hermes took the reins and the whip, and the horses flew over the stony road that led from Hades. On and on they went until they reached the Eleusinian plains and the temple of Demeter.

There they emerged from the cave close to the temple, and a fig-tree burst into budding as they came. Demeter stood with outstretched arms at the mouth of the cave to receive her daughter. Hermes helped her from the chariot and Persephone sprang into her mother’s arms as the flowers of May spring forth on the bosom of earth with the early showers.

No one can describe Demeter’s joy as she beheld once more her beloved child, and pressed her to her heart, covering her with kisses. The whole earth smiled and burst into verdant growth. The fields were covered with grain. The meadows bloomed with gay flowers. The birds sang and the people rejoiced.

Demeter drew her daughter into the holiest sanctuary of her great temple and they talked over all that had happened during Persephone’s long absence. She told her mother how Hades had stolen her away from the meadows while she gathered flowers, and how he had treated her while she stayed with him in the lower world. She had only words of love and honor for the dread King of the Dead.

A whole day mother and daughter passed in an affectionate embrace and in exchanging words of love, each pitying the other on account of the long separation. Then Zeus sent Rhea to bring Demeter and Persephone to Mount Olympos. And he told them that Persephone might remain with her mother until the winter months came back again.

To this Demeter seriously objected, for she dreaded the separation and the loneliness. But Zeus replied: “If thy daughter hath eaten of the pomegranate she is truly wedded to Hades the King of the Dead, and must go back to him to stay during the winter. For the pomegranate is the apple of love, and having shared it with him, he hath part in her affection and can claim her as his wife. But if she hath not eaten of the fruit she shall remain with thee and go no more to the gloomy realms below.”

Demeter was satisfied with these terms and promised that Persephone should return to her honored husband during the winter months, for Persephone had told her that she had eaten with him of the pomegranate and that she loved him in spite of his gloomy surroundings. Then Demeter forgave Zeus for his part in allowing the abduction of Persephone, and the mother and daughter descended once more to Eleusis to bestow blessings upon the inhabitants, and from that time on the earth was clad in flowers and foliage as long as Persephone stayed with her mother. But it was brown and barren when she returned to the regions of the Dead. And the good Hades warmed the earth from below by virtue of his divine power, helping it to produce more abundantly the precious grains and the fragrant flowers.

CHAPTER XXXII

TRIPTOLEMOS BECOMES A HERO. DEMETER’S GIFT

Demeter returned to her home among the gods on Mount Olympos. But before she went she called Triptolemos, an older son of King Keleos to her and gave him her car which was drawn by winged dragons. There is nothing more precious to the gods than open, benevolent hearts and generous hospitality. The poorest and meanest man may be god-like in generosity, sharing his goods with open hand, as sunshine is poured out from the heavens. King Keleos had shown himself a most royal-hearted man in his princely generosity toward the goddess when she came in the guise of a poor old woman, and Demeter resolved to bestow upon him and upon mankind, for his sake, a blessing proportionate to her power and rank.

So she gave to Triptolemos something far better than her magic car and serpent-steeds. She taught him how to make the plough of iron. Heretofore men had ploughed the fields with the crudest of ploughs – a pointed stick, or an iron bar. She taught him how to turn a furrow and put the seed into it, and cover it up so that the birds should not eat it.

And when summer came she showed him how to cut the grain, to bring it in wagons to the barn where he was to thrash it, and to store it away, keeping each kind separate.

Triptolemos, being carried on his wagon through the air, sowed the precious grain all over the inhabited world and turned many a barren waste into a cultivated field. He taught the people everywhere, as Demeter had taught him, how to cultivate the soil. Thus he became a great benefactor to all mankind and induced a better way of living. For when people had farms to take care of, they ceased to roam aimlessly about the world. They built homes and learned to be friendly, and from this sprang up the government which should protect the home and make men happy and comfortable.

Triptolemos received the honors of a god, and the people of Eleusis built a temple to him close to the acropolis, where some of the stones of the temple may still be seen. But his best monument is the cultivated fields of barley, rye, and oats, and all the grains which from Demeter (Ceres) we call cereals.

CHAPTER XXXIII

PROMETHEUS, THE CHAMPION OF MANKIND

Heaven and earth were created. The sea rolled its waves against the shore and played around the islands. The fishes sported in the waters in lively gambols. On the land the birds flew from tree to tree singing with sweetest voices; wild beasts were peaceable; flowers threw out delicious odors; nature beamed with loveliness.

But mankind could not notice the beauty of nature. Men walked as in a dream, for they were not awakened to delicate odors or sweet sounds or beautiful forms and colors. They were barbarous and rude; they did not know any of the arts of civilization; they were not even able to build homes; they lived in caves like wild beasts and fed on nuts and fruit.

The cultivation of the soil was unknown. Men made no difference between the blooming spring and fruitful summer and the cold winter. They did not know how to cut stone. Like the wild creatures they lived in constant fear, crawling about miserably.

Prometheus, the son of Japetos, was wise and good. He looked down from his comfortable abode and saw with pity how man was stupefied and enthralled by ignorance, and he wished to deliver him from his unhappy state. At that time Zeus reigned in the heavens; he was the lord of thunder and of fire. He stored the fire in the heavens and sent it down to earth in the form of lightning to terrify men but not to help them.

Without fire upon earth man’s condition was hopeless. He needed it for making tools, if ever he learned to forge metals, for baking clay with which to make bricks and dishes, for cooking his food, and protecting himself from the biting frosts of winter. But Zeus does not willingly part with his treasures, and he looked upon fire as property solely his own. No one could get it from him by open means, and man had not even dreamed that he needed it.

Prometheus made it a part of his own duty to teach man the use of fire and how to live better by knowing its secrets. So he went to Olympos, the home of Zeus himself, and took a few sparks of the heavenly fire, which he hid in a hollow reed so that it could not go out. He came down to earth, bringing it to men, and they made a great blaze and gave thanks to Prometheus from the depths of their hearts when they saw what it would do.

When it grew cold they sat around the big fire and warmed themselves. They began to cook their food, they melted iron and made spears and tools. They baked clay which they had moulded into dishes, and it led on to their inventing all those things that are made by the use of fire.

When Zeus looked down from the heavens and saw the light of the flames on the earth he at once became aware that Prometheus had stolen the fire from him and given it to mortals. Zeus was greatly alarmed to find his power shared by men, for the lightning had been his sceptre. He called Hephæstos to his aid, the Blacksmith of the Gods, and his powerful servants, Violence and Force, and bade them lead Prometheus far away and chain him to a lofty peak in the Caucasus, a wild mountain-range of Scythia.

Hephæstos loved Prometheus, but he could not disobey the command of Zeus. When they reached the Caucasus, Violence said to Hephæstos: “See! we have reached far off Scythia, a desert where no trace of man is ever found. Behold the Caucasus! Now is the time to perform the task with which thy father Zeus hath charged thee. Let us chain Prometheus to the highest rock with fetters which cannot be broken. Thus may he learn the will of Zeus and that he is subject to his rule. Thus, too, will he see where his love for wretched men has brought him.”

But Hephæstos answered: “Force and Violence, do ye execute the order of Zeus, for I have not the heart to fetter a god who is of my own kin, to this wild mountain. It must be done, because it is the will of Zeus, and it is a dangerous thing to disobey him.”

Then, turning to Prometheus, he said: “High-minded son of Heaven, it is with a sorrowful heart and against my will that I let my servants bind thee with never-breaking bonds to this rock. There thou wilt never hear a human voice nor see a human form. Here wilt thou stay with no power to stir, and the burning sun will scorch thee. There is no place where thou canst rest thy weary limbs or thy sleepless head. This is thy reward for thy love to mankind. But I would rather bear thy punishment than be the tyrant to treat thee so unjustly.”

CHAPTER XXXIV

PROMETHEUS UNBOUND

Prometheus was securely bound with iron fetters and fastened to the solid rock. The servants of Hephæstos increased his tortures with their bitter speeches. But Prometheus bore his sufferings and their taunts with heroic indifference and courage. As long as they were near not a sound came from his lips. Only when Hephæstos and his servants were gone did he begin to bewail his unjust punishment.

The winds carried the sound of his moans far off to the shore of the sea. The sea maidens, daughters of old Ocean, heard them and were moved to tearful pity. They hastened on the wings of the salt breeze like a swarm of birds to comfort and cheer him. Nay, more, old Ocean himself came from afar, and rising up from his watery abode, stationed himself near Prometheus to speak to him.

“I am grieved to the heart, dear Prometheus,” he said, “for all that thou hast to suffer. I am thy kin, and it breaks my heart to see thee like this. Even apart from our kinship there is no one whom I honor as much as thee. Tell me, is there any way in which I can help thee?”

Prometheus, hearing what Okeanos said, made reply: “What do my eyes behold, friend Okeanos? Hast thou come to see me in my misery? I fear me I have only bitter words in exchange for thy kindly greeting. See in what manner Zeus treats me, his friend, who hath assisted him to gain possession of the throne of the world!”

Okeanos felt the truth of his words, but thought it better to try to persuade Prometheus to submit to Zeus, and so he answered pleadingly: “Curb such overbearing speeches, dear Prometheus, and I will myself try to appease the anger of Zeus.” But Prometheus quickly replied: “I have done no evil that I know of, and I will not bow to tyranny and injustice.

“My fault is this: I loved mankind too well to let them lie helpless in stupidity and ignorance. I found them in a pitiable plight. They had eyes but could not see. They had ears but could not hear. Not one thing did they know until I taught them. I told them to observe the rising and the setting of the sun, moon, and stars. I taught them how to count, and write, and remember.

“I taught them to yoke oxen to their ploughs instead of dragging them themselves. And I showed them how to harness horses to the chariots likewise. I helped them to make boats with oars for the rivers, and ships winged with white sails to traverse the seas. I taught them the healing power of plants to relieve them in their sickness. From me they learned how to mine for silver and copper, and how to work them. Indeed, friend Okeanos, thou mayst well say that all the arts men know how to apply they have learned from Prometheus.”

Zeus sat uneasily on his throne, angry when he saw that the spirit of Prometheus was unbroken. “He still defies me, but I will conquer yet,” said the Thunderer; and he sent a cruel vulture to tear and eat his vitals every day. At night they grew again and he was healed. But each morning the vulture came and renewed his terrible feast.

Two thousand years the large hearted, man-loving Prometheus passed in suffering in the Caucasus. At length Herakles came that way in his wanderings, when he was trying to find his way to the Garden of the Hesperides. He broke the iron bands like egg shells and set Prometheus free.

To tell the truth, Prometheus was too wise for Zeus to have him as an enemy forever, for he knew one thing which Zeus did not – he knew the future. Zeus was aware that there were many important secrets concerning the future which he could learn from no one else. It is supposed that Zeus may have hoped to force Prometheus to yield up his secrets by these punishments, and that on finding out his mistake he slyly connived at his victim’s liberation because he could not afford to be unreconciled to him any longer.