Showing posts with label Peloponnese. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Peloponnese. Show all posts

Wednesday, 11 July 2012

The Exiled King

Speak today of eugenics and we think of Nazi Germany. Speak today of unwavering loyalty to honour and we think of feudal Japan. Speak today of absolute rejection of wealth and we dream of a more noble tomorrow. But all are far older than many of us would think. It has been done. There was a civilisation once which bound all three into one of the most controversial, admired, and feared states that ever existed. This was the formidable city state of Sparta, the deeds of whose citizens inspire awe and disbelief in equal measure. Here is the story of the man who had the courage to change everything.


Greece in the Classical Era
Map created by the author
Nearly three thousand years ago, in the most archaic times of Greece, there was no Greece. Greece has existed in its present form only since 1830. About five hundred years after the Trojan War, in the Greek Dark Ages, the land was filled with independent city states, each united by a common language, religion and culture, but fiercely divided by their relentless struggle for supremacy over the others. This rivalry, which never truly faded, would one day spell their doom. Around this time, many of the Greek cities were crippled by the squabbles of the rich and the toils of the poor. Whilst the fields of Attica and Boetia were a battleground between Athens and Thebes, two of the most powerful Greek cities, the peninsula to the south lay largely ignored by their high-minded neighbours. But a new power was rising in the Peloponnese (for the story which gave this land its name, please click here). For the tiny city of Sparta, in the eastern lands of Laconia, thrived. Marvelling at its recent conquest of the neighbouring city of Messenia, the Spartans rejoiced, though their city was in a wretched state.

Uniquely, Sparta was ruled by not one, but two Kings, one borne of the Agiad royal line, and his co-ruler hailing from the Eurypontid royal house, who both could claim descent from Heracles and his progeny who had first conquered Laconia in the distant mists of time. For three generations after the days of Heracles (whose own story begins here), Argeia, Queen to the afflicted Spartan King Aristodemus, gave birth to twin boys. Aristodemus lived just long enought to see his sons, dying tragically of illness within days. As was the law, the Spartans declared that the elder son should be hailed as King. But never before had twin boys been born to the royal bloodline. Who is the elder of twins? Both boys were identical, in size and form, and the succession became a crisis. The Spartans asked the Queen which had been born first, but Argeia replied that she was no more able to tell them apart now than they could. In secret, the Queen knew precisely which was which, though she could not bear to favour one over the other. Desperate now, as constitutional crisis meant the crippling of the state, the Spartans sent an urgent envoy to consult the Oracle of Delphi. Employing the arcane wisdom and ambiguity at which she was so adept, the Oracle answered. “May both be crowned as Kings of Sparta, yet to the elder grant the highest of honour”. The Spartans obeyed, but were still at a loss as to who was the elder. Just then, as hope seemed lost, a wise man from Messenia suggested they secretly watch the mother as she washed and fed her twin boys. If she always attended to the same child first, then that must surely be the elder. Seeing a grain of logic in his words, the Spartans obeyed. As they watched, they saw that the Queen did indeed always care for the same one first. The elder boy was named Eurysthenes, and he was crowned the High King, and his brother Procles his fellow King. So was founded the Agiad and Eurypontid royal houses of Sparta, named for their grandsons Agis and Eurypon, which ruled Sparta for near a thousand years. Some of their Kings ruled by oppressive force, and others through total lack of force. Eurypon was the first King to rule as a true man of the people, relaxing his more autocratic powers. Great was his popularity, but within generations, soon all Sparta was wracked by anarchy and strife, and it seemed as though it would become just another Athens. So grave were matters that, in a violent brawl in the streets, the Eurypontid King Eunomus was slain whilst trying to break up a fight. His throne passed to his oldest son, Polydectes, who died himself not long after. It was to Polydectes’ younger brother, Lycurgus, that the future greatness of Sparta owed its glory.



Sparta today, before Mount Taygetus
Photograph taken by Κούμαρης Νικόλαος
Lycurgus, an honourable and austere man, ruled well, but soon came a revelation which troubled the elders. Not long after the death of Polydectes, it became apparent that his widow was bearing a child. Magnanimous as ever he was, Lycurgus decreed that the throne was rightfully the child’s if it turned out to be a boy, and that he would rule as a guardian until the boy was ready. When, some months later, the widow gave birth to a boy, Charilaus, Lycurgus honoured his pledge, declaring the boy the rightful heir to the Eurypontid throne. The Spartan people rejoiced, and praised Lycurgus for his fair and noble character. But, ever ready to lay waste to the best of people is the shadow of envy. Charilaus’ relatives grew wary of Lycurgus, resenting his popularity. Soon suspicion turned to paranoia, and rumours began to spread that Lycurgus desired the throne alone. When at last Lycurgus, resigned to being the target of false charges, heard these fears he decided to leave Sparta until Charilaus was old enough to be crowned, and thus put an end to the false rumours. Forced into exile by his own city, the resourceful Lycurgus decided to travel the world, and see its nations with his own eyes.

Shrewd and charming, Lycurgus earned the respect of all who crossed his path with his insight and sagacity. By leaving behind his own country for the first time, his eyes were opened to the world, and he began to think what he, and his city, could learn from its peoples. His travels carried him further along the road to enlightenment, and further from home. First he landed upon the shores of verdant Crete, and marvelled at the close knit camaraderie of the locals, their fair songs and lyrical poems. The exiled King befriended many prominent Cretans, studying their way of life intently, admiring their ready obedience to the state. If only things were so in Sparta! Then to Asia did wise Lycurgus venture, and horror and disgust was his. For while it was here that he first heard the stories of Troy and the poetry of Homer, he was appalled at the unbridled extravagance and worship of money around every corner of the Ionian cities. Corruption stalked the land with a festering presence, and men fought tooth and nail to swell their fortunes and shatter those of their rivals. The people groaned under the towering burden of the rich, and the wealthy indulged in the most grotesque revelry, utterly oblivious to the ruin of the poor. Lycurgus, shuddering with anger, eagerly scribbled down all that he saw. South then, to Egypt and the land of the Pharaohs. Most awed was the Spartan King, as he saw the efficiency of this realm. Each man and woman scurried about on his or her errand like bees in the hive, all knowing their place and what to do. The soldiers fought, the priests prayed and the builders built. Such division of labour caught Lycurgus’ eager eye. Some say the wise man’s travels even brought him to the courts of India, the sands of Libya and the pillars of Spain.


Lycurgus
One of twenty three portraits of famous lawgivers
to adorn the Chamber of the United States
 House of Representatives
After many years on stranger tides, word reached Lycurgus’ ear, a plea to return from his city of old. Energised by what he had seen in exile like never before, eagerly did he return to the city which bore him. The people of Sparta hailed Lycurgus as a man who was truly a King in heart, though others may wear the crown. Seeing an opportunity to bring all he had learned to bear, Lycurgus seized the chance. Seeing that modifying one law or making some pedantic amendment would be utterly useless, he swept aside the entire constitution, and built a state from the ground up. One of his most dramatic reforms was the abolition of wealth, and the pursuit of it. All gold and silver was seized and melted down, coinage was rendered invalid, and the new system of currency was henceforth to be in iron bars. Lycurgus assigned a tiny value to even a huge weight of iron, such that even a small sum needed substantial storage space and a wagon to carry it. The surface of each bar was doused with vinegar, making it fragile and brittle, rendering the metal useless for anything else. Overnight, almost all crime vanished from Sparta. “For who would set out to steal, or accept as a bribe, or rob, or plunder something which could not be hidden, excited no envy when possessed, and could not even be profitably chopped up?”. Since no other nation would accept such currency, Sparta became completely self-sufficient. No foreign goods flooded the streets, and luxury disappeared. The desire for more money than was necessary became a stigma of the greatest disgrace.


Lycurgus divided all the land of Laconia equally between the Spartan citizens, each part providing just enough farmland to provide for his family. With possessions beyond this prohibited, what was the point of desiring wealth, when there was nothing to spend it on? Recalling the extravagant banquets in Asia, Lycurgus henceforth decreed that all men would live and dine together in common messes. Even the King would dine alongside the citizens in the mess, and each man would bring his share of food from his land. If any man had been out hunting, he would bring along his catch to the mess to share with his comrades. Excessive drinking, which Lycurgus saw as destructive to the mind and the body, was stopped. Lycurgus saw in many other nations, the young and the old mistrusted each other, and never mixed. Here in Sparta, young and old lived and dined together. The young listened in reverence to the stories and wisdom of the old, and the old had the joy of sharing their experiences and inspiring the young. Power at Sparta was now in the hands of the newly created Great Council, consisting of the two Kings and twenty eight elected elders, for whom the age of sixty was a minimum requirement. That way, Lycurgus reasoned, men would be motivated to lead virtuous lives for all of their years, not just a few, and their help of the young in the messes might be rewarded by a place on the council. The Elders could champion the people should the Kings fall to tyranny, or side with the Kings should democracy need to be resisted.

Satisfied that politics had been cured of its maladies, Lycurgus turned to his most legendary reforms. After all, he thought, why just change a state when you can change its people too? Seeing that all the evils that afflict nations stem from the evils of individuals, Lycurgus embarked on an unprecendented revolution. But this would be no mere toppling of a tyrant, only to be replaced by a greater one, such as those which have characterised almost every revolution in history. This time it would run far deeper, changing forever the way that people lived their very lives, and creating a new nation which would be feared and respected even two and half thousand years later...



                                          To be continued...


United Kingdom

On Sparta:
On Sparta (Penguin Classics)
(A unique insight into the stories, customs and founding of the Spartan state, written in ancient times)

United States

On Sparta:
On Sparta (Penguin Classics)
(A unique insight into the stories, customs and founding of the Spartan state, written in ancient times)

Wednesday, 28 September 2011

The Son of Tantalus

The struggles between men and gods often bring out the very best, and the very worst in both in the legends of the ancient world. The lowliest peasant could be raised to the divine, and the mightiest king could fall to the most humiliating ruin. For there existed a delicate balance between the mortal world and the immortal plain, a balance which held bound within it dire consequences for those who sought to violate the laws of nature. For every man blessed with Paradise in the golden, sun drenched Elysian fields, many more were cursed to hideous retribution in the fires of Tartarus. One such malign soul was Tantalus.


The Tantalisation of Tantalus
Painting by Giocchano Assereto
The son of Zeus, the thunder god himself, and the sea nymph Plouto, Tantalus was of an exalted line. King of the mighty realm of Phrygia too, he was a powerful man indeed. The bounty of the Earth, the reverence of man and the lineage of gods, however, had made Tantalus a proud man. Soon, he began to to question the omnipotence of the Olympians. However, his cruel leanings as yet unknown, one day Tantalus was invited to the dine at a banquet with the gods themselves, high on Mount Olympus (just as Ixion had been too, for this story, please click here). Far from being honoured at this request from on high, Tantalus decided to use this opportunity to put the gods to the test. Legend spoke of a magical substance that was the food of gods, a divine material borne to Olympus by doves shining white as the burning sun. This substance was ambrosia, which sustained the ageless life of the immortals, and granted invulnerability to whomsoever should seek sustenance from it. At the table of Olympus, the gods honoured Tantalus by allowing him to taste Ambrosia, and nectar, the drink which sustained the immortals. Through sleight of hand, Tantalus slipped a portion below the table, with an eye to sharing this majestic food with mortal men, out of spite for the gods. The King of gods and men was unmoved, though he saw Tantalus' ploy, such envy was to be expected from mortals, who so frequently believed their own plight to be greater than that of all others. The worst, however, was yet to come.


The Fall of Tantalus
Engraving by Hendrick Goltzius
Tantalus invited the gods to try a dish of his own making, as gratitude for the warm hospitality they had granted him. Happily, they agreed. Resolved to testing their so called omiscience, Tantalus decided upon a grisly trial. Cruel and heartless to the bone, Tantalus murdered his own son, Pelops, and boiled his flesh. Slicing the corpse up, Tantalus crafted a fine dish, one which veiled its gruesome secret from mortal eyes. Returning to the banquet hall, Tantalus served up the evil dish to the assembled gods. At once, the enraged gods were made aware of Tantalus' fell designs, as all things are laid bare before their eyes. All that is, except for Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, who absent mindedly began to chew on one of Pelop's shoulders, distracted by grief as she was at the loss of her daughter Persephone (whose story will be told in a future post). The fury of the Thunderer was a terror to behold, for the slaughter of one's own kin was the gravest of crimes, the most vile of corruptions and most heinous of sins a man could commit. Zeus banished Tantalus to Tartarus, the deepest, darkest and most grim depths of the Underworld. In this cruel land, the most evil men and women met their fates, and it was here too that the Titans were bound in their infernal prison (for this story, please click here). Like Sisyphus before him, Tantalus was doomed to an eternity of vain struggling (for the damnation of Sisyphus, please click here). Tantalus was ordered to stand in a pool of water, deep in unholy Tartarus. Zeus imbued within him an agonising thirst, yet whenever Tantalus should try to drink from the pool, the Thunderer commanded the waters to recede before his very eyes, so that his thirst should never be quenched. Furthermore, Zeus imposed another ordeal:


           " Trees spread their foliage high over the pool and dangled fruits above
              his head - pear trees and pomegranates, apple trees with their glossy
              burden, sweet figs and luxuriant olives. But whenever the old man made
              to grasp them in his hands, the wind would toss them up towards the clouds "
                                                           - THE PUNISHMENT OF TANTALUS


The Peloponnese
Photograph taken by Ulrich Tichy
Condemned to an eternal fate of thirst and hunger, the fate of Tantalus was sealed, bound in the abyss. Stunned by Tantalus inhumanity, Zeus ordered Clotho, one of the Three Fates, to restore Pelops to life. Realising that Pelops had a peculiar stance due to his mangled shoulder, Hephaestus, the god of the forge, crafted a new shoulder from the finest ivory, and granted it to the young prince. Aphrodite, goddess of sensuality bestowed the gift of extraordinary beauty upon Pelops, taking pity upon the prince too. Poseidon, the god of the oceans and the Lord of Horses, gave Pelops a winged chariot which could ride the surface of the seas. Setting forth from Olympus lofty heights, Pelops travelled the lands of Greece, the legends of his grace and prowess spreading before him. Even the lands he travelled through took their name from him, and it is indeed after Pelops that the Peloponnese is named.

Word soon spread throughout the lands of Greece however, of the proclamation of King Oinomaos of Elis, that to the best of men he would give the hand of his daughter, Hippodaemia, in marriage. Any man was welcome to try, but should he fail, he would die. For the challenge was a chariot race, whereby the suitor would attempt to reach the Isthmus of Corinth. Oinomaos would set off in immediate pursuit, in full armour, and if he caught up, he would slay the man. Twelve men had so far accepted the King's deadly challenge, and twelve lay slain, their heads now hanging from the Royal Palace. For the King, unbeknownst to the suitors, possessed the horses and arms of Ares, the god of war, and no human mercy. The stakes were high indeed, when Pelops arrived at the court of Oinomaos.


The Land of Elis
Photograph taken by the author
Entering the throne room, Pelops came before the King to accept the lethal challenge. Lurking nearby, however, was Hippodameia herself, and she was immediately struck by the dart of Eros, stunned by the handsome form of Pelops, blessed by the gods as he was. That night, before the race began, Hippodameia made a secret visit to the quarters of Myrtilos, the King's charioteer. Begging him to help her and come to Pelops' aid in the race, she won Myrtilos over, who agreed, harbouring secret desires for the princess himself. Dawn arrived and rose into the sky, as the line was set and the chariots were made ready. Careful to avoid being seen, however, Myrtilos approached the King's chariot and removed the axle pin from the wheels, replacing it with one made of wax. Pelops soared off the line, racing along the coast of the land which bore his name. With a shout, King Oinomaos set off in pursuit, spear raised and primed for blood once more. However, the sun beat down, and the stresses of the race soon took their course, and the wax began to melt. The King's chariot began to fall apart, and Oinomaos, entangled in the reins was thrown to the sand, dragging helplessly through the ground. Battered, broken and dying, Oinomaos realised Myrtilos' treachery, and with his last words cursed the charioteer to die by Pelops' hand.

Triumphant with victory, Pelops returned to claim Hippodameia's hand, stopping on the road to collect some water. On his return to his new princess he saw Myrtilos attempting to steal away with his new bride, maddened as the charioteer was with passion. Enraged, Pelops seized Myrtilos and hurled him from Cape Geraistos, fulfilling the prophecy of King Oinomaos. Myrtilos however, seething with injustice, proclaimed a terrible curse upon the House of Pelops and his progeny, that it should be forever hounded by strife, and afflicted by death, its descendants doomed to die before their time...

The tale of the treachery of Tantalus, and the adventures of Pelops, is a legendary one in the lore of the ancient Greeks. The cursed line of Pelops would continue to shape the course of history for generations, and the curse would inflict its terrible price for years to come. Not even mighty Agamemnon, King of Mycenae, and grandson of Pelops through his father Atreus, would escape it. But the legacy of Pelops that lives on today is the land of Southern Greece, a land of magnificent beauty, among whose illustrious sons can be counted the formidable Spartans, the greatest warriors ever born. What of Tantalus? Well, his legacy is found within our very language. For even today in English, if a person is tantalised, they are victim to temptation...


United Kingdom

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A vast collection of stories from old Greece, written and compiled in ancient times)

The Odyssey:
The Odyssey (Penguin Classics)
(One of the greatest pieces of world literature, which recounts the punishment of Tantalus)

The Metamorphoses:
Metamorphoses: A New Verse Translation (Penguin Classics)
(A Roman epic poem, which recounts the plight of Pelops, and many other heroes)

United States

The Library of Greek Mythology:
The Library of Greek Mythology (Oxford World's Classics)
(A vast collection of stories from old Greece, written and compiled in ancient times)

The Odyssey:
The Odyssey (Penguin Classics)
(One of the greatest pieces of world literature, which recounts the punishment of Tantalus)

The Metamorphoses:
Metamorphoses (Penguin Classics)
(A Roman epic poem, which recounts the plight of Pelops, and many other heroes)