On a day pretty close to Valentine's day us Hellenists honor a beautiful festival of love and social stability: the Theogamia, also known as the Gamelia. This festival celebrates the anniversary of the marriage (gamos,  γάμος) of Zeus Teleios (Τελειος, Of the Marriage Rites) and Hera Teleia (Τέλεια, same). Zeus Teleios and Hera Teleia were considered the patron Theoi of marriage, although we are unsure if They were given sacrifice to when a man and women wed in ancient Hellas.

I have described the ancient Hellenic idea of marriage before: marriage in ancient Hellas was a family affair. The father of the son--who was often in his thirties by the time he got married--opened negotiations with the family of a bride in her teens. The two families came to an agreement about dowry, a contract was signed by the father of the groom and the father of the bride in front of witnesses, and the groom met his new wife--often for the first time--before taking her to bed.

In another previous blog post I wrote about Zeus and how He returns to His wife Hera every night despite his affairs. In the Odyssey, Odysseus's entire journey is aimed at going home to his wife Penelope. Marriage provides you with a stable foundation; it's family. Even if you are not close to your own ancestors, you can find and/or create love and shared DNA. It is this bond that we celebrate in the Theogamia.

We know very little about the actual festival. In ancient sources it's sometimes called 'hieros gamos', the sacred marriage, and was referred to as a domestic festival. A day to spend at home, with your wedded partner. Hera Teleia was the primary deity of the festival, with Zeus Teleios being of secondary importance. It was celebrated for sure in Athens, and most likely also in city-states around Athens. It included a shared dinner, and presumably lovemaking, between husband and wife. Unmarried men were most likely free of religious obligations, and were free to dine out.

There seems to be a suggestion that the gamos of Zeus and Hera was enacted as part of the rituals of a hieros gamos festival, but there is no concrete evidence for this. The closest we get to a Hellenic 'Great Rite' is a ritual performed near Knossos in Krete, but the details are so very vague that we can't be sure about anything.

It doesn't take much imagination to fill in how to best celebrate this festival. If you are married or have a partner, have a nice dinner together, have some romance, spent the night together and bond. Think about ways in which you will help, honor and love your partner in the year to come. This day--or this month--is of course the best to get married! Appropriate hymns are the Orphic Hymns 15 to Zeus, and 16 to Hera as well as the Homeric Hymn 12 to Hera. I want to leave you with a quote from the Ilias, that has nothing to do with the Theogamia itself, but does describe the eternal love between Zeus and Hera so very beautifully. Enjoy the Theoigamia, everyone!

“Zeus, the Cloud-Driver, saw her, and instantly his sharp mind was overwhelmed by longing, as in the days when they first found love, sleeping together without their dear parents’ knowledge. [...] ‘Hera, [...] let us taste the joys of love; for never has such desire for goddess or mortal woman so gripped and overwhelmed my heart, not even when I was seized by love for Ixion’s wife, who gave birth to Peirithous the gods’ rival in wisdom; or for Acrisius’ daughter, slim-ankled Danaë, who bore Perseus, greatest of warriors; or for the far-famed daughter of Phoenix, who gave me Minos and godlike Rhadamanthus; or for Semele mother of Dionysus, who brings men joy; or for Alcmene at Thebes, whose son was lion-hearted Heracles; or for Demeter of the lovely tresses; or for glorious Leto; or even for you yourself, as this love and sweet desire for you grips me now.’” (Iliad XIV)
A long time ago, I wrote down the basics of miasma and katharmos; ritual pollution and cleaning. I commented then, that there were more way in which katharmos was practiced, including the pinning up of hair by women. I was going to come back to that, but I absolutely forgot until now. As you can see in the videos I have made about Hellenismos, I wear my hair up during religious ceremony, as did many women in ancient Hellas.

Hair has long had an important role in society and religion. During the classical period female citizens wore their hair long except when they were in mourning during which they cut their hair short. Before the fifth century BC women's hair was allowed to fall over the shoulders and back, but it was often fastened by a headband or diadem, and the front section of the hair was restrained. After that, hair was often restrained.  Female citizens, especially, wore their hair long, and after their marriage--usually at a very early age--they wore their hair up in elaborate styles. Typically, only their immediate family and servants saw Hellenic women with their hair undone.

The most basic hair style was a bun on the back of the head, with about half of the woman's hair. The hair in the front was left unbound, pinned up, or wrapped around a rope like the video of the hairstyle of the Vestal Virgins shows. This was seen as either an alternative, or an additive, to veiling. While I veil on rare occasions in ritual, wearing my hair up has become a staple of my life and I rarely--if ever--go out with my hair completely unbound. During Hellenic times, women often waved and curled their hair, but parts of it were still restrained.

Short haircuts were functional for servants and slaves who had to work during the day, making long hair the privilege of wealthy citizens. Female warriors and athletes, especially in Sparta, cut their hair short as well, and within Spartan wedding ceremonies, brides had their heads shaved. During funeral rites, women wore their hair down, and tore at it to show their grief. As a sign of grief, the hair was then sometimes cut.

Hellenic women often had dark brown or black hair, but the beauty standard was blond. Both men and women bleached their hair, as well as drying it in the sun to reach a lighter color. In the Odysseia, Odysseus is described as being gifted blond hair by Athena:

"And when he had washed all over, and rubbed himself with oil, and put on the clothes the virgin girl had given him, Athene, daughter of Zeus, made him seem taller and stronger, and made the locks of his hair spring up thickly like hyacinth petals. As a clever craftsman, taught his art by Hēphaistos and Pallas Athene, overlays silver with gold to produce a graceful finish, so the goddess graced his head and shoulders. Then he went some way off and sat on the shore, alight with that grace and beauty: and the girl gazed at him admiringly"

Young boys cut hair short--to about chin-length--when they reached adolescence, and kept it that way until they became older and more distinguished. After that, men tended to keep their hair long in Athens. In Sparta, young boys' heads were shaven, and the men kept their hair short. For a long time, ancient Hellenic men wore beards. It was Alexander the Great who ordered his soldiers to cut off their beards, so the enemy couldn't grab on to it in battle. After that, the beard became a scholar's prerogative. Most men who were not in the army indeed had beards; they were a mark of distinction and virility.

There were several popular ancient Hellenic hairstyles: with a krobylon the hair is gathered, tied and pinned over the forehead; the kepos is a bowl-cut used for youths and slaves; the theseid is a sort of proto-mullet which was short in front and long in the back; and with the hectorean, the hair was combed back into curls.

Within a religious framework, hair was done up as well, unless otherwise specified. Many Dionysian rites, for example, encouraged women to literally 'let their hair down', and join in the revelry. For (married) women, it was extremely uncommon to wear their hair down outside of the oikos, and to do so must have helped them get out of their comfort zone. For other religious ceremonies, wearing the hair up was a way to apply katharmos, and prevent miasma from entering the ritual setting. This is a practice is still applied today, by yours truly included.

Interestingly enough, this is one of the ways in which the outside world can see my transformation into Hellenismos; before, I almost always wore my hair loose. I'd been experimenting with a shorter hairdo prior to my progression. Now, I'm growing my hair long again, and only wear it down inside the home. Yesterday, a visitor came to the door just after I'd showered and dressed; my hair was still down. I felt physically uncomfortable that a stranger saw me with my hair down, and put it up in a loose knot as soon as I could. It's a sign of devotion and purity for me, plus, there is something beautiful about only letting your partner see your hair undone.
I have noticed that Hellenismos has its own, very specific, cleaning problems. As you have seen, my altar stands on carpet, and the longer I practice, the more wine stains appear on it. The bowl I use to give burnt offerings is stained with soot, and I'm sure that if it stood near a wall, that would be blackened as well. On top of that, the copper bowl I use to keep my daily khernips in, stains due to the water, and the salt in it. On days of purification as well as on the Deipnon, I spent some time cleaning these items. Today, I wanted to share with you some natural ways to clean these tools. Note that there are chemical cleaning tools available for all these stains--so if you're desperate to have a stain removed, that is always a possibility--but I prefer the natural way.

Wine stains:
Especially red wine leaves hard to remove stains on carpet, clothes and even even your hands. Luckily, there are some cleaning tips for all of these, and although they won't remove the stain completely, they make the stains less obvious. All in all, it is easiest to remove red wine when it is still wet. Dried wine stains are harder to remove. Some tips for fresh (red) wine stains:
  • blot--but never rub the stain--to remove as much of the moisture as possible
  • work from the outside of the stain towards the center to keep the stain from spreading
  • blot the stain with white wine and/or club soda and/or vinegar to try to get as much out as possible
  • rinse the fabric with cold water
  • pour milk over it and let soak
  • rinse again
  • if the stain remains, blot the fabric, then pour salt on it; salt absorbs the wine (baking soda or talcum should also work)
  • vacuum up the salt after a few hours
Whatever remains of the stain after this, is most likely there to stay. You can try hand washing the cloth in cold water, just to see if you can get more out of it, but no guarantees. As soon as you apply heat to it--either in the washing machine or the drier--the stain will set and you'll need chemicals to remove it. If your stain is old and dried, you can try the following:
  • apply a paste of cream of tartan and water
  • let set for a few minutes and then rinse by blotting with a clean towel
  • if this does not work, you could also try applying white/whitening (!) toothpaste to the stain to see if that drains the color from it somewhat
  • avoid hot water when cleaning off the toothpaste or cream!

Soot:
Even though I scrub my offering bowl with steel wool, even before applying soap and hot water, the kitchen towel is still stained black afterwards--and trust me, I take my time cleaning it. What are some handy tips to remove this type of staining?
  • Soot is essentially black carbon, and when mixed with water, it stains everything it touches: use dry techniques first!
  • remove as much loose soot with a wire brush, steel wool, or other handy tool
  • remember to use swishing motions, and never rub, else the soot becomes smeared and even harder to remove
  • tip out the loosened soot, or vacuum it out
  • apply salt or baking soda to the soot stains--in bowls, scrub with your fingers t apply the salt, and let it absorb it; in fabric, apply and rub gently, then wait a while
  • vacuum out the salt
  • wash in hot water--with or without soap--and scrub until most (if not all) of the sooth is gone

  • soot stains on your brick walls can generally be removed by wire brush or steel wool, and a vacuum
  • soot stains on painted or wallpaper are best brushed and/or vacuumed, then apply a mixture of vinegar and water--or use pure vinegar--with a dry cloth (lemon juice works as well, and best on paint)
  • rub gently while applying a clean part of the cloth every time the cloth stains
  • it might take a while, but the stain will fade

  • to remove soot stains from fabric, create a mixture of vinegar and salt, or lemon juice and salt
  • rub the stain gently, until the stain fades
  • rinse out

Water stains on copper:
Copper has long been used to create cups, bowls and other household paraphernalia, dating back as far as 9000 BC. Over time, copper has a tendency to oxidize and change color to a blue-green called patina. Personally, I'm not a fan, and prefer my copper bowls shiny. Here are a few household ways to clean copper:
  • make a paste of equal parts salt, vinegar and flour; apply the paste to the stain and allow it to sit for fifteen minutes to an hour, then wash the paste away with warm soapy water
  • alternatively, rub salt into the stain with a soft, clean, cloth
  • another method is to apply ketchup to the stain and let sit for a while, then rub the stain with soft, clean, cloth until the stain is gone, and rinse
  • rub the stains with half a lemon, sprinkled in salt until the stain disappears, rinse afterwards
  • make a paste of lemon juice and cream of tartar, apply for two to three hours, then wash with soapy water
Do you have other handy tips and tricks for stain removal? The comment section is open.
Remember when I told you about a re-trial of the Socrates case as a fundraiser by the National Hellenic Museum in Chicago? Dan Webb and Robert A. Clifford, who represented Socrates, were unable to successfully defend their long deceased client, but had Socrated had these men by his side 2412 years ago, he would have gotten off with a fine--then again, if Socrates had kept his mouth shut at his actual trial, he would have gotten off with a fine as well.


“May it please the court, members of the jury, make no mistake about it: Socrates is guilty. Socrates is guilty of disrespecting the Gods, by doing so he has endangered the people of Athens. Socrates is guilty of corrupting the youth, and by doing so he has endangered the existence of Athens. Socrates is guilty, period.

History got it wrong. History has been unfair to my client, Athens, the dialogue he [Plato] wrote was really a monologue; he only quoted his friend. Put aside what history tells you, to be fair to the Athenians... a just culture, the first democracy, egalitarian. When you don’t have a full transcript, give them the benefit of the doubt.

You had the right to speak, you had no right to disrespect God. We have to put ourselves back in Athens in 399 [B.C.] when the world was different... If any one person in society disrespected God, the wrath came down on everybody. They believed if somebody in society wronged God, they all paid the price. The price was not a lightning bolt. It was a plague. If you’re an Athenian, you’ve seen the plague wiping out your city state. You lost a war because of this plague. Your vaunted navy is reduced to mere nothing. The walls of the city are torn down. In the last ten years before the trial, democracy has been overthrown twice by oligarchs and tyrants, people that Socrates taught.”

This quote was part of the opening speech of former U.S. Attorney Patrick Fitzgerald, who prosecuted the case--alongside Patrick M. Collins--as representatives of the city state of ancient Athens. It set the stage well for the gathered public, who would ultimately cast their votes in true ancient Athenian democratic fashion. It's also very much in line with the views of the ancient Athenians--this is how they viewed wrongdoings against the Theoi, and because of this view, it was very important Socrates was punished for his blasphemous vision.

The Chicago Sun-Times reports how the voting eventually went down:

"The dozen official jurors split. The audience voted by dropping colored discs in bags for Guilty or Not Guilty. When the discs were poured onto literal scales of justice, they tipped toward guilt. Add to Patrick Fitzgerald’s resume of success, of putting away mobsters and terrorists, that he could convince most Chicagoans at a Greek museum function to condemn the greatest Greek ever. During the penalty phase, several dozen audience members even called for death, but Socrates got off with a fine."

The entire article is a great read: to my great surprise it shows that several of the visitors were visibly upset about Socrates' renewed sentencing. The writer doesn't go into detail why these visitors were so upset, but I get the feeling it has to do with a discrepancy between the modern views on ancient Hellas, and the views of ancient Hellas itself. As a Hellenist, I have found that it's difficult for non-Hellenists and those without a keen interest in ancient Hellenic history to fully grasp the ancient hellenic mindset. Heck, sometimes I even struggle with that. Not even a passionate statement of one of Chicago's top litigators can change that.

Another very interesting fact is that the--apparently--slightly astounded Hellenic Museum sold 900 tickets at $100, and had to move the trial from their building to the Palmer House ballroom. The overflow crowd spilled into the upper balconies, and hundreds more had to be turned away. This is, of course, in large part because of the famous and very capable lawyers, as well as the presiding judge, who took on the trial, but a little part of me hopes this event was visited so well because those who were interested in Socrates, ancient Hellas and the Theoi, saw an opportunity to visit the event of a lifetime and took it without reservation.

Personally, I'm glad Socrates was still found guilty. As Fitzgerald said, Socrates endangered not only himself but the whole of Hellas with his impious sermons. While stifling the voice of the subversive is not a very modern thing to do, in ancient Hellas it was the most social thing to do, and I think this case reflected that wonderfully.

Image: Patrick J. Fitzgerald, left, and Patrick M. Collins, acting as counsel for the City of Athens, participate in a mock trial of Socrates, with federal judge Richard A. Posner presiding at the Palmer House Hilton on Thursday, January 31, 2013. | Richard A. Chapman~Sun-Times
Today, I want to tell you a little about ancient Hellenic clothing, and show you how to fashion it. Hellenic clothing in general was created out of a single, rectangular, piece of cloth, and there are two styles of garments and two styles of cloaks that have survived through pottery, statues and literary descriptions. These are the chiton and peplos for garments, and the himation, and chlamys for cloaks.

In the video below, I'll share some basic tips and tricks for fastening these garments, but don't assume that way is the only way. The ancient Hellenes liked to spruce it up. Also, despite what the popular media says, ancient hellenic clothing was often made with brightly colored fabrics and beautiful trimmings; white most certainly wasn't the only color, nor the most preferred.


To recap: the peplos (ὁ πέπλος) was a body-length garment established as typical attire for women in ancient Hellas. It was a tubular cloth folded inside-out from the top about halfway down to form an apoptygma. The garment was then gathered about the waist and the open top--at the fold--pinned over the shoulders. The top of the tube was then draped over the waist, providing the appearance of a second piece of clothing.

The chiton (khitōn, χιτών) came in two forms: the Doric chiton and the later Ionic chiton. The Doric style was open on one side, sleeveless and didn't have the apoptygma the peplos had, while the Ionic chiton was pinned or sewn from top to bottom, was made with a much wider piece of fabric, and had sleeves.

A himation was a type of cloak that was usually worn over a chiton. It wasn't fastened with pins, but instead was held up by the friction created between two layers of the garment, usually over one shoulder. The chlamys (χλαμύς) was normally pinned with a fibula at the right shoulder. It was worn by messengers and warriors, and could serve as a light shield.

The peplos and chiton were usually made out of linen, silk, or other light materials. They were often tastefully translucent. The cloaks were usually made of wool. Women almost always wore a peplos or chiton under their cloaks (usually himations), but men were allowed to solely wear either of the cloaks. Women almost always wore ankle length (or longer) garments, while men were allowed to wear both ankle length as knee length versions.

I hope this video has provided you with a few tips and tricks. Good luck with making your own and enjoy!
Exactly thirteen years ago, after a year and a day (plus about a month), I dedicated myself to Paganism. Back then, I dedicated myself to Brighid and Pallas Athena, as well as the search for knowledge and wisdom as granted by the Gods. I can still picture it vividly in my mind; in the evening, the lights off, my room at my parent's house lit by a multitude of candles. My parents were downstairs, unaware of the milestone their daughter was undertaking, and my heart was pounding in my throat, fumbling with books and papers to get everything down perfectly. I knocked over a candle, and had to restart my vows. Afterwards, still shaking with what I had just completed, I snuck into my parents' bedroom to find the iron and spent the rest of the evening ironing out the candle wax from the carpet before my parents would discover the stain. This was Imbolc 2000, and I was thirteen.

Like I have spoken about before, I grew up in a household where I had to grow up really fast. On top of that, I was always an inquisitive little girl. I felt a need to learn about things of interest to me. Lacking stable parents and being raised without religion, my interests soon took a turn for the religious. Even as a young girl, I had dreams about Brighid and Pallas Athena. Brighid was a mother to me, Pallas Athena, a protector, as well as a confidant. They drove me to satisfy the urge to discover my religious home. As such, I started looking into Christianity, Islam, as well as the religions of the ancient cultures. Through the latter, I came to realize you could still worship these Gods I felt so close too: it was called Paganism, and the God and Goddess were its avatars.

I was a duotheist for a little while, but I never quite understood how Odin and Lugh were the same God--or worse--how Odin and Loki were the same God. I became a hard polytheist long before I knew there was a difference between duotheism, soft polytheism and hard polytheism. Back then, I only knew of Paganism and monotheism, as represented by Christianity, Islam and the other big religions I had briefly studied and rejected.

My views developed with my body and mind. As I found stability within myself, I also found stability within my religion. My religious views grew up at the same pace I did. This year marks the first year that I can officially say I have been Pagan for half my life; I turn twenty-eight this year. It doesn't feel that long, honestly, but at the same time, it also feels like I have been Pagan all my life.

A few days back, a comment on one of my blog posts questioned the usefulness of the Pagan label. I realized then, that one of the reasons I cling to the 'Pagan' label, no matter what it comes to mean, or the amount of meaning it looses is that I have identified myself by it for half my life; it's as much a part of me as my nationality, my sexual orientation, and many other defining features.

I have thought long and hard about it, but this year--for the first time in thirteen years--I will not hold a dedication ceremony at Imbolc. I used to do it every year, noting down what I would work on in the year that followed, as well as my renewed vows. It was a big part of my practice, but I find it has no bearing on my Hellenistic one. So today, I feel a little off-kilter; saying goodbye to something so fundamental to my previous practice, as well as acknowledging the length of said practice.

I love the Pagan label, and I am extremely happy in my religious practice. I feel more at home in Hellenismos than I have felt anywhere else. It was a long road to get here, though, and today, I remember that road. When I was fifteen, I finally found a pentagram ring to wear, and I have not taken it off for more than a few hours since that time. I'm debating myself about taking it off. It feels like it's time, but I've worn it for so many years. It's become a protective talisman, a symbol of my faith, and an identifying marker. Yet, more and more, I feel that it's a magickal talisman not linked to Hellenismos, a symbol for a faith not my own, and an identifying marker for the wrong faith. I would have loved to find another symbol to replace it with, even if it's a temporary one.

I think I'll go out to hunt for one of those symbols today before work, and make the transition. It seems fitting to do so on the day that my vows to my old religion officially end. These are big steps, and they make me a bit melancholiac. On the other hand, I can say 'new achievement unlocked: Pagan for half of my life', and that's pretty awesome.

Update:


Well, it's not exactly a dodecagram, but it has twelve 'tips', and it will do for now. I'm getting some funds together to commission a dodecagram pendant, but until I manage to swing that, I think I'll wear this. The ring is off, and the moment wasn't as scary as I thought. It feels very weird not to wear it, but I don't miss it.
I'm doing a combination post today: I'm combining a Pagan Blog Post, and a constellation series post. As such, I'll be talking about the mythical creatures as well as the constellation named after a few very famous examples of the species. Centaurs (kéntauros, kένταυρος) are depicted as half man, half horse; having the torso of a man extending where the neck of a horse should be. They were said to be wild, savage, and lustful, and in very old Hellenic artwork, they were often depicted as fully human, with a horse's end added to them. This shape for Centaurs remained in art for civilized Centaurs like Kheiron and Phôlus.



There are two stories of the birth of the centaur race: in the first, Ixion (Ἰξίων), king of the Lapiths (Λαπίθαι), and Nephele (Νεφέλη), a cloud nymph Zeus created in the image of Hera to trick Ixion to test his integrity after displaying his lust for Hera during a feast as a guest of Zeus, fathered the Centaurs with the nymph after failing said test. The Lapiths were a mythical, pre-Hellenic tribe whose home was in Thessaly, in the valley of the Peneus and on the mountain Pelion.

Because of the antiquity of the tribe, Ixion's parents are a little hard to determine; sources attest to Ares, Apollon, or Leonteus, or Antion and Perimele. In another version of the myth, Ixion and Nephele had only one son, Centaurus, who was deformed and hunched over. He took to the wilds his father loved, and eventually mated with the mares of a race of horses that lived in Magnesian. From this union came the Centaurs. In all versions of the myth, Ixion was expelled from Olympus and blasted with a thunderbolt for failing his test. Zeus then ordered Hermes to bind Ixion to a winged fiery wheel that was always spinning. Therefore, Ixion is bound to a burning solar wheel for all eternity, at first spinning across the heavens, then into Tartaros. From Pindar's Second Pythian Ode:

"To your benefactor return ever with kind dealing rendered. He learned that lesson well. By favor of the sons of Kronos, he was given a life of delight but could not abide blessedness long; in his delirious heart he loved Hera, dedicated to the high couch of Zeus. That outrage hurled him into conspicuous ruin. He was a man and endured beyond all others distress full merited. Two sins flowered to pain in his life: a hero, he first infected the mortal breed with kindred bloodshed, not with-out treachery; also, in the great secret chambers of Zeus he strove to ravish the Queen. A man should look at himself and learn well his own stature. 

The coupling unnatural brought accumulation of evil on him, even in success; it was a cloud he lay with, and he in his delusion was given the false loveliness. A phantom went in the guise of that highest daughter of Uranian Kronos; a deceit visited upon him by the hands of Zeus, a fair evil thing. Zeus likewise wrought the crucifixion on the wheel, Ixion's bane; and, spinning there, limbs fast to the ineluctable circle, he makes the message a thing that all may know. 

But she, graceless, spawned a child of violence. There was none like her, nor her son; no honor was his portion in the usage of god or man. Nursing him, she named him Kentauros, and he coupled with the Magnesian mares on the spurs of Pelion; and a weird breed was engendered in the favor of either parent: the mare's likeness in the parts below, and the manlike father above. "

The most famous myth concerning the Centaur race is focussed on the tribe of Centaurs, as well as the Lapiths. We call this event the Centauromachy. Scholars say that, like the Titanomancy, the Centauromancy represents a shift from barbarism to civility. The story is as follow, best--and most lengthy--described, I feel, by the Roman poet Ovid, but summarized as follows by Plutarch:

"After this, when Peirithous was about to marry Deidameia, he asked Theseus to come to the wedding, and see the country, and become acquainted with the Iapithae. Now he had invited the Centaurs also to the wedding feast. And when these were flown with insolence and wine, and laid hands upon the women, the Lapithae took vengeance upon them. Some of them they slew upon the spot, the rest they afterwards overcame in war and expelled from the country, Theseus fighting with them at the banquet and in the war. Herodorus, however, says that this was not how it happened, but that the war was already in progress when Theseus came to the aid of the Lapithae and that on his way thither he had his first sight of Heracles, having made it his business to seek him out at Trachis, where the hero was already resting from his wandering and labours; and he says the interview passed with mutual expressions of honor, friendliness, and generous praise."


Note that all Centaurs in the old writings were male. Female Centaurs entered Hellenic writings only as late as (roughly) 190 AD, through the writings of Philostratus of Lemnos. Kentaurides (or Centaurides), the female members of the Kentauroi, were depicted in Hellenic art before that time, though. From Philostratus' Imagine (2.3.):

"You used to think that the race of centaurs sprang from trees and rocks or, by Zeus, just from mares – the mares which, men say, the son of Ixion covered, the man by whom the centaurs though single creatures came to have their double nature. But after all they had, as we see, mothers of the same stock and wives next and colts as their offspring and a most delightful home; for I think you would not grow weary of Pelion and the life there and its wind-nurtured growth of ash which furnishes spear-shafts that are straight and at the same time do not break at the spearhead. And its caves are most beautiful and the springs and the female centaurs beside them, like Naïads if we overlook the horse part of them, or like Amazons if we consider them along with their horse bodies; for the delicacy of their female form gains in strength when the horse is seen in union with it. Of the baby centaurs here some lie wrapped in swaddling clothes, some have discarded their swaddling clothes, some seem to be crying, some are happy and smile as they suck flowing breasts, some gambol beneath their mothers while others embrace them when they kneel down, and one is throwing a stone at his mother, for already he grows wanton. The bodies of the infants have not yet taken on their definite shape, seeing that abundant milk is still their nourishment, but some that already are leaping about show a little shagginess, and have sprouted mane and hoofs, though these are still tender.

How beautiful the female centaurs are, even where they are horses; for some grow out of white mares, others are attached to chestnut mares, and the coat’s of others are dappled, but they glisten like those of horses that are well cared for. There is also a white female centaur that grows out of a black mare, and the very opposition of the colours helps to produce the united beauty of the whole."

It is said that the constellation Centaurus represents Centaurus himself; not because he did something heroic, but because Centaurus was the first person to group stars into constellations and taught others how to read them. The constellation might simply have been Centaurus putting a picture of his children (or, in some versions of the myth--where he is a Centaur--himself) in the sky, possibly to guide the Argonauts on their mission to secure the golden fleece.

There were many famous centaurs in Hellenic mythology, all of whom could be linked to the constellation Centaurus: Kheiron (Chiron, Χείρων), the wise and educated Centaur who taught heroes like Achilles, Theseus, Iásōn, and Hēraklēs, who--although looked like the Centaurs of mount Pelion--was sired much earlier, by KronosPholus, a friend of Hēraklēs, who died of the same poison that led Kheiron to give up his immortality; or Nessus (Νέσσος), the Centaur who carried Hēraklēs' third wife Deïaneira (Δῃάνειρα) over the river Evinos (Εύηνος), and was killed by Hēraklēs for attempting to abduct and rape her. Many of these, however, are linked to the constellation Sagittarius, not Centaurus, and as such, I'll get back to these when I reach this constellation. It seems only Centaurus may rightfully be linked to Centaurus.

The constellation of Centaurus is visible at latitudes between +25° and −90°, and best visible at 21:00 (9 p.m.) during the month of May.