In the last few days, I have come across a lot of questions about the lunisolar calendar of the ancient Hellenes, most often in relation to celebrating the solstices and equinoxes, like the ancient Celts used to do, or like modern Pagan practitioners do when celebrating the Wheel of the Year. I have spoken about the calendar before, both about the sacred Hellenic month (or the 'Mên kata Theion'), and the lunar calendar itself, as well as a post on how to read the lunar calendar in relation to the solar calendar--also known as the tropical one, named so after the Greek 'tropikos' meaning 'turning'. Especially the latter one contains a summary of the coming post, so you can always go back to that one for the TL;DR version. Today, I will be looking at one question: how did the ancient Hellenes fit the lunar calendar into the solar calendar?


To answer this question, we must first look at why the ancient Hellenic calendar was 'lunisolar', meaning based on both the Sun and the Moon. From the civic calendar which has synodic months ('synodic' meaning lunar, from the ancient Greek 'σὺν ὁδῴ', or 'sun hodō', meaning 'with the way [of the Sun]'), we know that the basic calendar was lunar. There is an issue with the lunar calendar, however: The Moon revolves around the Earth faster than the Earth revolves around the Sun. In the time it takes the Earth to circle the sun once, the Moon has circled the Earth 12.36827 times (so between 12 and 13 times). The fact that the two do not match up completely means that the tropical year is 365.25 days, and the lunar year (based on twelve cycles of the 29.53 day synodic month) is 354.36 days. As such, the ancient Hellenes would have 'lost' 10.89 days every tropical year.

The festival year is based upon the lunar calendar. If 10.89 days are lost every tropical year, it will only take a few years for the festival calendar to lag behind the tropical year in such a way that harvest festivals would be celebrated while the seeds are just going into the ground. To prevent this from happening, the ancient Hellenes devised a schedule where an extra month was inserted every few years. We will get to the calculations of that in a little bit. This extra month allowed the lunar calendar to be 'reset' in such a way that the festivals always roughly matched the events they were celebrating. To do this, the ancient Hellenes looked to the Sun, and marked four points in the year where the lunar calendar had to match up roughly with our cycle around it: the solstices and equinoxes.

A solstice is an astronomical event that occurs twice each year (around 21 June and 21 December) as the Sun reaches its highest or lowest excursion relative to the celestial equator on the celestial sphere. An equinox occurs twice a year as well (around 20 March and 22 September), when the plane of the Earth's equator passes the center of the Sun. At this time the tilt of the Earth's axis is inclined neither away from nor towards the Sun. In essence, during an equinox, the period of time the sun is down (night time) and the sun is up (daytime) is roughly the same. The ancient Hellenes observed these four points in the year, and because of that, the ancient Hellenic calendar is partly solar: the solstices and equinoxes are anchor points for the otherwise lunar calendar.

Depending on the city-state, one of these four points was picked for the start of the new year. Athens and Delphi had the summer solstice, Boeotia had the winter solstice, and Milet started out with the autumnal equinox, but moved the new year to the spring equinox around the end of the 4th century BC. This anchor point was the most important; the rest were used to check the accuracy of the calculations.

I addressed the extra month that was inserted to match up the lunar calendar with the tropical one a few paragraphs back. In general--at least from what little evidence survives--we can tell that the extra month was usually inserted roughly half way throughout the year. In Athens, for example, it was usually the month of Poseideon that was repeated. The month became known as 'Second Poseideon', and would have most likely repeated the Mên kata Theion, but not the festivals of Poseideon.

In classical Hellas, an eight-year cycle called ‘oktaeteris’ was known. History seems to indicate that this calendar started off at 776 BC, at the start of the Olympic Games. It approximated the length of the tropical year with (365.25 days) and the lunar year (i.e. 12 synodic months = 354.36 days) with each other by multiplying both by eight. The tropical cycle then had 2922 days, the lunar cycle 2832. The difference between those two lengths is a well-measured 90 days, or three 30-day lunar months. So in a period of eight years, a 30-day month would have to be intercalated three times to reconcile the lengths of lunar and tropical year. In general, this was done in the third, the fifth, and the eighth year of the cycle. Doing this would lead to a calendar of 2923.5 days, or 99 synodic months. Later, the ancient Hellenes measured the oktaeteris as two four-year periods, one of 49 months and one of 50 months, and they called these four year periods 'Olympiads', to accommodate the cycle of the Panhellenic Games.

The Olympic Games were a moveable festival which combines the lunar and solar calendars. The date for celebrating the Olympics was determined as the eighth full Moon following the first full Moon after the winter solstice, as Elis--the city-state where the Olympic Games were hosted--started the year with the winter solstice. The calculation is as follows: start with the first full moon after the winter solstice, then count forward eight more full moons. With this calculation, the first Olympics occurred in (what is now called) August, 776 BC. From this date, count 49 more full moons to July, 772 BC, for the next Olympics, and then count 50 more full moons to July, 768 BC for the third Olympics. This completes the cycle of 2923.5 days, or 99 synodic months every eight tropical years.

By the 5th century BC, the ancient Hellenes realized that 99 lunar months was not a totally accurate equivalent of eight solar years, and that a longer cycle of 19 years would work even better because it was nearly equal to 235 lunar cycles. 19 years x 365.25 days = 6939.75 days, and 235 synodic months x 29.53 days = 6939.55 days. This more precise cycle is attributed to Hellenic astronomer, mathematician and engineer Meton (Μέτων). Meton's cycle assumes 19 tropical years to have 6940 days, as well as 235 synodic months. Seven years of the 19-year cycle would have to have 13 months, the other years 12 months. Where the eighth year cycle ended up off by two days at the end, the cycle of Meton was only off by about half an hour at the end. It was still not completely accurate, though, so Hellenic astronomer and mathematician Kallipos (Κάλλιπος) multiplied the Metonic cycle by four and removed one day so that 76 years had 27759 days. His calculations led him to a cycle that matched up so well, there was only a 22 second difference in favor of the tropical calendar. Interestingly, these new cycles never seemed to have been used for the civil calendars in ancient Hellas, perhaps because they took a boatload of calculations, and were not easy to fit into the now established four-year cycle of the Panhellenic Games.

This concludes the math session for today. Hopefully, this post has cleared up some of the confusion about the importance of solstices and equinoxes. In short: they mattered a great deal for the festival calendar, but they were not celebrated as festivals themselves. All they did was help anchor the lunar calendar to the solar one; an important feat, but not a religious one. Understanding the calendar of the ancient Hellenes matters; it helps bring perspective on the seasonal cycles the ancient Hellenes observed, and helps you realize how in tune with nature they actually lived while always striving to push their society forward by trying to comprehend and work with the natural cycles. They did not take them for granted: they considered how the world worked, and their understanding of the way the Moon revolves around the Earth and the way the Earth revolves around the Sun is a prime example of that.
Seven months ago, I wrote a blog post about ancient Hellenic hairstyles. As part of that post, I shared my personal choice in how I wear my hair, and why. In short: I always wear my hair tied up in some way, unless I am home alone with my partner. I am also growing my hair out. I veil during major religious rites, but only as a form of decoration for my hair. I don't veil outside the house, and rarely do it for my daily household worship, unless the mood strikes me. While I addressed this in part in that blog post, the seven months that followed have brought some more clarity to the practice and when I was asked to explain why I bind my hair last night, I figured I would share the message with you.

Me in preparation for the Elaion PAT ritual for the Kourotrophos on 23 August:
hair tied up, veiled and wreathed.
 
When I started out in Hellenism, I used to pin up my hair solely for ritual, as wearing the hair down was considered either a part of funerary rites in ancient Hellas, or as part of a rite to the Underworld deities, at last for women. In the Eleusinian Mysteries, unbound female hair was miasmic, and the practice carried on outside of the walls of Eleusis as well. My current practice was largely fueled by these practices and wearing my hair bound almost full time to avoid miasma was logical for me. Whenever I am outside of the house, or inside the house with anyone other than my significant other, I keep my hair bound, and usually up. This is a religious thing, but not so much a devotional thing.
 
As a Hellenist, I draw a lot of inspiration from ancient Athens (as the most evidence of Hellenic life survived in that city), where no one outside of close family members and female serfs would ever see a woman's hair undone. Arguably the only male who ever saw the hair of an adult woman undone was her husband. I find a lot of beauty in this. My girlfriend is not religious, but we have talked about this practice of modesty so she is the only one who sees my hair loose, and we both find it adds something special to our relationship. Not only is part of me reserved just for her, for me personally, it is a way to show that I am solely hers. We are now at a point where my girlfriend sometimes offers tips on how to do my hair or does it for me, and I can see in her that seeing me with my hair undone is starting to be a noticeable event in our household.
 
Seven months ago, I was at a point where I got highly uncomfortable when caught with my hair undone by someone who was not supposed to see me like that. Now I am at a point where I actively make sure this never happens. Binding my hair--even sloppily--is one of the first things I do in the day, and there are 'emergency' hair ties everywhere around the house. As we live in an apartment building with a shared hall-space, housemates can simply knock on the door. We always call them in with a shout. My girlfriend now looks at me first to see if I still need a second to grab an emergency hair tie, or if my hair was already done up.
 
Having progressed into Hellenismos well over a year ago, a lot has changed for me, and by extension, for my girlfriend. I wrote before that, when I still practiced Eclectic Religious Witchcraft, it was easier to live around my religious practice. I never did my rituals when she was around, and I didn't have a very strict daily practice. It was an issue she could turn a blind eye to. 

My progression into Hellenismos has made turning a blind eye pretty much impossible. I have a strong daily practice, I read, research and write a lot about it, and I have most certainly changed since I started practicing. Letting go of many conventions from my Witchcraft days has freed me from a lot of shackles I was unaware I was opposing at the time. The transition has been fluid for me, but my girlfriend in an incurable theist, and she worries for me a lot. She worries that I am spending too much time on a construct--if you will--that does not exist. From her point of view, what I do must be nuts.
 
We have been more open to each other about this lately, with a couple of long talk--sometimes difficult ones--where we have managed to find some common ground to continue on from. I doubt she will ever fully understand my religious practices, but she is making her peace with it because she can see how much peace and joy my religion is giving me, and how I am letting go of so many struggles because of the clarity it brings me. It's good for me, and for that reason alone, she will support it.
 
The way I wear my hair--partly for her, partly for the Gods, in equal measure--has so far acted as a bridge. It helps her find beauty in something she inwardly opposes (i.e. religion), and it helps me show her that the household, the Theoi by extension, and she are the things in my life that matter most to me. Binding my hair has been acting like a glue lately, to show my girlfriend where she fits in with this dramatic change of devotional focus in my life. Binding my hair has helped us get closer, and that is very special to me. It's why I continue it when my scalp itches, when I am having a crappy day and do not want to bother with my hair, when I frantically look around for a hair tie when the doorbell rings. Binding my hair brings the two most important things in my life together, and I will not give that up.
Remember when I wrote about how construction workers in Thessaloniki happened upon a very well preserved 70-meter section of a Roman marble-paved road while building an underground train station? Do you also remember how the entire project was turned upside down to preserve the road? Yeah, not so much in Libya.

An excavator at work in late July [Credit: Areej Khattab]
 
Several reports have come in that local residents of the area surrounding the Kyrene necropolis recently destroyed part of the necropolis, an ancient Greek city in north-eastern Libya, to make way for houses and shops. Kyrene (Κυρήνη) dates back to about 700 BC and was the oldest and largest Greek colony in eastern Libya, a region now known as 'Cyrenaica'. Only the nearly ten square meter necropolis remains of the ancient city of Kyrene. The necropolis was in use between 600 and 400 BC, and includes 1,200 burial vaults dug into the bedrock and thousands of individual sarcophagi that lie on the ground. Kyrene was named UNESCO World Heritage Site in 1982.
 
Local whistleblower Ahmed Hussein, an archaeology professor at Bayda University in eastern Libya, has taken it upon himself to make the world aware about what is happening to the ancient site. In his own words:
 
"I have been trying everything to stop this disaster. I appealed, in vain, to the archaeological authorities as well as the local authorities. I contacted one of the brigades in charge of the city’s security, who informed me that they could intervene only if the authorities made an official request, but they haven’t made the slightest move to get involved… I even called the Culture Minister on his mobile phone. I left a message but I haven’t heard anything yet."

 
Ahmed Hussein inspecting tombs destroyed in July 2013 [Credit: Areej Khattab]
 
Hussein explains what is already lost, and what the local residents plan to do with the ground they have now claimed:
 
"About 200 vaults and tombs were destroyed, as well as a section of a viaduct that dates back to approximately 200 A.D. Ancient artifacts were thrown into a nearby river as if they were mere rubbish. They plan on selling the land in parcels of 500 square meters to real estate developers and private individuals. The latter will be able to build homes and shops. Since these tracts of land are sold without any official documents, they go for very cheap prices, such as 15,000 dinars [about 8,900 euros] per tract. However, it is well known that 500 square meter tracts in this area are valued at about 100,000 dinars [about 59,000 euros], at least when they are sold legally."
 
It appears that, in Libya, customs and practices tend to carry more weight than the written law. Custom say that this land traditionally belongs to families who live in nearby farms. There are no official documents to support the claim, yet their claims are not contested by the government. As such, the authorities have yet to respond to the destructions, or word of local building plans.
 
500 square meter tracts marked off in order to sell them [Credit: Areej Khattab]
 
Obviously, this is a great loss. According to myth, the nymph-huntress Kyrene (Κυρηνη) was spotted by Apollon while wrestling with and subsequently strangling a lion in the jungle. He immediately fell in love with the courageous heroin and seized the girl before carrying her off to the Hill of Myrtles (Myrtoessa) in Libyan North Africa where the Hellenes later founded the colony of Kyrene in her honor. The area itself seems to have been occupied already or prior to the arrival of the settlers, as even older archeological finds under the Classical buildings indicate. The archeological remnants by these civilizations is also threatened by the current destruction.
 
The city of Kyrene rose to greatness over the export of the Silphium plant, or silphion, a member of the giant fennel family], which once grew only in Kyrene. Classical physicians and herbalists recommended the plant as both contraceptive and abortive, as well as a remedy for coughs. The plant was heavily cultivated and became more valuable than its weight in silver. The plant went extinct by the second century AD, which meant a great loss of income for the city. Cut into a cliff faces overlooking the Green Mountain plateau and all around Kyrene are thousands of tombs and individual sarcophagi that were built and used from the 6th century BC onwards, first by the Hellenes, then added to by the Romans and Byzantines up to the 6th century AD. Some of the tombs still contain traces of their distinctive Hellenistic facades. The Necropolis of Kyrene was one of the most extensive cemeteries in the ancient world, and part of it is now lost.
 
There is no word yet about what is to be done now to see to it the necropolis is not further destroyed, and there is no word on punishing the perpetrators. With Libya's current regulations and unrest, I am sure the preservation of the necropolis is low on the agenda nationally--but perhaps internationally, some pressure can be put on the Libyan government. The site is, after all, an UNESCO World Heritage Site. For now, all we can do is spread the word. I will keep you updated on further developments.

Hello, there isn't a real post today--please come back tomorrow for one of those. You are welcome to skip this post, but I need to have a major nerd freak-out, because since August 21, I have my own tag on The Wild Hunt!


The Wild Hunt--for those unfamiliar with it--is, in their own words:

"[a] primary destination for those interested in following news relating and of interest to modern Pagan religions and other minority faiths. Founded by Jason Pitzl-Waters in 2004, The Wild Hunt has grown to become one of the most-visited and popular destinations exploring these topics. Recruited to Patheos.com in the Summer of 2011, The Wild Hunt decided to exist as an independent entity once more in the Summer of 2012. In addition, The Wild Hunt has now expanded into a media outlet with paid contributors and two paid staff members."

I have followed The Wild Hunt for years, and got to know the voices of many Pagan authorities through their articles. It's one of those websites I visit once a week to read up, and when I did so yesterday evening, I came across this article, a 'Pagan Voices'-segment which quotes people in the Pagan community when they have something interesting to say about Paganism... and near the end, there is me, with my post on Facebook's then unwillingness to stand with its Pagan users. Please excuse me while I have a huge, nerdy, freak-out moment.

 
Okay, so, this isn't an ego-thing (well, maybe a little, but it's not mainly an ego thing). What this is, is a huge nerd thing, in the best sense of the words. This is finding your words wedged in between those of P. Sufenas Virius Lupus, whom I greatly respect, and HecateDemeter, whose blog I have been reading for years. Also, I have a tag on The Wild Hunt! I greatly dislike what Blogger does with the font when I use italics, but the moment warrants italics. This is me, Dutch girl me, on The Wild Hunt! That's like... camping outside the game store to pick up one of the first copies of Mass Effect 3, or visiting ComicCon. To me, that is that level of epic, glorious, nerdy, win. Why? No clue, but my day is made! Thank you, Jason, you have made me a very happy woman.
On the 20th of Metageitnon, the Attic demos of Erchia held a small sacrifice to Hera. The epithet described in the surviving material is listed as 'Thelkhinia' (Oελχινια), but it is the only mention made of that epithet anywhere--it also doesn't mean anything in the ancient Greek tongue. Most likely is that there was a spelling error, and the 'h' needs to be removed, leaving the more commonly used epithet 'Telkhinia' (Τελχινια). If this is the case, the epithet most likely refers to a place title: 'Of Telkhinia', located in Cyprus. Pausanias describes this epithet (and a temple to this epithet) for Athena in Boiotia. The description is from his 'Description of Greece':

"In Teumessos [in Boiotia] there is also a sanctuary of Athena Telkhinia, which contains no image. As to her surname, we may hazard the conjecture that a division of the Telkhinians who once dwelt in Kypros came to Boiotia and established a sanctuary of Athena Telkhinia (of Telkhinia)." [9. 19. 1]

Diodorus Siculus, in his 'Library of History', however, gives an extended account of the cult title--in this case it does not refer solely to Telkhinia, but to four mysterious magician-smiths and/or sea daimones native to the islands of Keos and Rhodes. There are others who describe these smiths as well, and they all describe them as excellently skilled, but that is where the similarities end. To some ancient writers, they are cultivators of the soil and ministers of the God, to others, sorcerers and envious daimones, and to others again, skilled artisans. Diodoros subscribes to the latter theory, and he makes mention of Hera Telkhinia:


"The island which is called Rhodes was first inhabited by the people who were known as Telkhines (Telchines); these were children of Thalatta (the Sea), as the mythic tradition tells us, and the myth relates that they, together with Kapheira (Capheira), the daughter of Okeanos (Oceanus), nurtured Poseidon, whom Rhea had committed as a babe to their care. And we are told that they were the discoverers of certain arts and that they introduced other things which are useful for the life of mankind. They were also the first, men say, to fashion statues of the gods, and some of the ancient images of gods have been named after them; so, for example, among the Lindians there is an ‘Apollon Telkhinios’, as it is called, among the Ialysians a Hera and Nymphai (Nymphs), both called ‘Telkhinian’ and among the Kameirans a ‘Hera Telkhinia’. And men say that the Telkhines were also wizards and could summon clouds and rain and hail at their will and likewise could even bring snow; these things, the accounts tell us, they could do even as could the Magi of Persia; and they could also change their natural shapes and were jealous of teaching their arts to others. Poseidon, the myth continues, when he had grown to manhood, became enamoured of Halia (Brine), the sister of the Telkhines, and lying with her he begat six male children and one daughter, called Rhodos, after whom the island was named. [...] At a later time, the myth continues, the Telkhines, perceiving in advance the flood that was going to come [Deukalion's flood], forsook the island and were scattered. Of their number Lykos (Lycus) went to Lykia (Lycia) and dedicated there beside the Xanthos River a temple of Apollon Lykios (Lycius). And when the flood came the rest of the inhabitants perished,--and since the waters, because of the abundant rains, overflowed the island." [5. 55. 1]

All we know for sure is that at Erchia, the sacrifice was of an all-black, female, lamb that cost seven drachmas. The sacrifice was not a holókaustos, so the festival goers would have shared in the little meat the animal possessed. the cut for the Gods was not to be removed from the altar. Female victims were reserved for female Gods; all-black victims usually to khthonic deities. If that was the case, the belief could have been that thy were appeasing envious daimones rather than artisans. In this much later (5th century A.D.) account by Nonnus, in his 'Dionysiaca', the Telkhines are described as such:

"[When Rheia summoned gods to join Dionysos in his war against the Indians:] The spiteful Telkhines (Telchines) also came also to the Indian War, gathering out of the cavernous deeps of the sea. Lykos (Lycus) came, shaking with his long arm a very long spear; Skelmis (Scelmis) came, following Damnameneus, guiding the seachariot of his father Poseidon. These were wanderers who had left Tlepolemos's land [Rhodes] and taken to the sea, furious Daimones of the waters, who long ago had been cut off from their father's land [of Rhodes] by Thrinax with Makareus (Macareus) and glorious Auges sons of Helios (the Sun); driven from their nursing-mother they took up the water of Styx with their spiteful hands, and made barren the soil of fruitful Rhodes, by drenching the fields with water of Tartaros." [14. 36]

There is no mention of a daylight or nighttime sacrifice, but due to the lack of a holókaustos, I assume it would have been a daytime offering. The records make no note of a wineless sacrifice, so wine was most likely involved. There is much unknown about tomorrow's sacrifice, but perhaps this will give you an idea, regardless, to whom you are sacrificing.
The last I wrote of Hēraklēs, our hero had successfully navigated Eurystheus' scheme of getting him killed by help of Artemis. Hēraklēs completed another labour, made Artemis happy, and saved the day. All was well in the world of Hēraklēs. At this point, Hēraklēs is aware he still has eight labours ahead of him: he completed three successfully, but the labour with the Lernaean Hydra was disqualified because he had accepted the help of his nephew and lover Iolaus. It was most certainly an unfair ruling, but nothing can be done about it: Hēraklēs must continue with his quest in hopes of cleansing himself of his crime.

The fourth labour is to capture the Erymanthian Boar, which got his name from the mountainside and swamp it roamed on. It seems Eurystheus realized that capturing something can be a lot more deadly than killing something, especially when that something is bigger and badder than any of its peers. That said, Hyginus in his Fabulae describes that the task was not to capture the boar, but to kill it, which Hēraklēs accomplished. As far as I am aware, though, he is the only one. Pausanias mentions the boar in his 'Description of Greece', saying:

"There is also a legend that Heracles at the command of Eurystheus hunted by the side of the Erymanthus a boar that surpassed all others in size and in strength. The people of Cumae among the Opici say that the boar's tusks dedicated in their sanctuary of Apollo are those of the Erymanthian boar, but the saying is altogether improbable." [8.24.5]

All who write about the labour agree that it is a difficult one. A boar is a ferocious animal, and even modern day hunters take care when hunting boar. Diodorus explains why this labour might have been the hardest so far:

"This Command was thought to be exceedingly difficult, since it required of the man who fought such a beast that he possess such a superiority over it as to catch precisely the proper moment in the very heat of the encounter. For should he let it loose while it still retained its strength he would be in danger from its rushes, and should he attack it more violently than was proper, then he would have killed it and so the Labour would remain unfulfilled." [4.12.1]

This labour became even harder to complete for Hēraklēs when he met the kéntauroi (or 'centaurs') on his way to the boar. Our hero went the long way to visit Phontus, a kéntaur who dwelt in a cave on Mount Pholoe, who was the son of Seilenus and the nymph Melia. Having heard of Hēraklēs, Phontus entertained him in his cave, and provided him with food. Hēraklēs, thirsty from the savory meat dish, asked for wine, but Phontus said he only had the wine that was communal to all the kéntauroi, and he did not dare touch it. Hēraklēs convinced him to do so, regardless, and the kéntauroi came galloping to the cave. Hēraklēs fought them, and many died. Phontus, inspecting one of Hēraklēs' arrows dipped in hydra poison, which the hero had used to kill one of the kéntauros, dropped it onto his foot and he died of the poison as well. Hēraklēs, grieving for the death of Phontus, buried him near his cave. There are many accounts of this, but the most beautiful--abide lengthy--description in my opinion is from Diodorus:

"About this time that Heracles was performing these Labours, there was a struggle between him and the Centaurs, as they are called, the reason being as follows. Pholus the Centaur, from whom the neighbouring mountain came to be called Pholoê, and receiving Heracles with the courtesies due to a guest he opened for him a jar of wine which had been buried in the earth. This jar, the writers of myths relate, had of old been left with a certain Centaur by Dionysus, who had given him orders only to open it when Heracles should come to that place. And so, four generation after that time, when Heracles was being entertained as a guest, Pholus recalled the orders of Dionysus.

Now when the jar had been opened and the sweet odour of the wine, because of its great age and strength, came to the Centaurs dwelling near there, it came to pass that they were driven mad; consequently they rushed in a body to the dwelling of Pholus and set about plundering him of the wine in a terrifying manner.

At this Pholus hid himself in fear, but Heracles, to their surprise, grappled with those who were employing such violence. He had indeed to struggle with beings who were gods on their mother’s side, who possessed the swiftness of horses, who had the strength of two bodies, and enjoyed in addition the experience and wisdom of men. The Centaurs advanced upon him, some with pine trees which they had plucked up together with the roots, others with great rocks, some with burning firebrands, and still others with axes such as are used to slaughter oxen.

But he withstood them without sign of fear and maintained a battle which was worthy of his former exploits. The Centaurs were aided in their struggle by their mother Nephelê, who sent down a heavy rain, by which she gave no trouble to those who had four legs, but for him who was supported upon two made the footing slippery. Despite all this Heracles maintained an astonishing struggle with those who enjoyed such advantages as these, slew the larger part of them, and forced the survivors to flee.

Of the Centaurs which were killed the most renowned were Daphnis, Argeius, Amphion, also Hippotion, Oreius, Isoples, Malanchaetes, and Thereus, Doupon, and Phrixus. As for those who escaped the peril by flight, every one of them later received a fitting punishment: Homadus, for instance, was killed in Arcadia when he was attempting to violate Alcyonê, the sister of Eurystheus. And for this feat it came to pass that Heracles was marveled at exceedingly; for though he had private grounds for hating his enemy, yet because he pitied her who was being outraged, he determined to be superior to others in humanity.

A peculiar thing also happened in the case of him who was called Pholus, the friend of Heracles. While he was burying the fallen Centaurs, since they were his kindred, and was extracting an arrow from one of them, he was wounded by the barb, and since the wound could not be healed he came to his death. Heracles gave him a magnificent funeral and buried him at the foot of the mountain, which serves better than a gravestone to preserve his glory; for Pholoê makes known the identity of the buried man by bearing his name and no inscription is needed." [4.12.3 - 4.12.8]

Apollodorus gives an extended account where the fight claims another casualty besides poor Pholus: the kéntauros Kheiron, teacher of heroes and kings:

"Thence they took refuge with Chiron, who, driven by the Lapiths from Mount Pelion, took up his abode at Malea. As the centaurs cowered about Chiron, Hercules shot an arrow at them, which, passing through the arm of Elatus, stuck in the knee of Chiron. Distressed at this, Hercules ran up to him, drew out the shaft, and applied a medicine which Chiron gave him. But the hurt proving incurable, Chiron retired to the cave and there he wished to die, but he could not, for he was immortal. However, Prometheus offered himself to Zeus to be immortal in his stead, and so Chiron died. The rest of the centaurs fled in different directions, and some came to Mount Malea, and Eurytion to Pholoe, and Nessus to the river Evenus. The rest of them Poseidon received at Eleusis and hid them in a mountain." [2.5.4]

Moving on, Hēraklēs finally reached the Erymanthian Boar's territory, and unlike the Golden Hind of Artemis, he did not have to chase after the boar at all. At the first challenging shout, the beast charged him, and Hēraklēs frightened him off so he could pursue and capture him more easily. In the words of Apollodorus:

"And when he had chased the boar with shouts from a certain thicket, he drove the exhausted animal into deep snow, trapped it, and brought it to Mycenae." [4.12.2]

Apollodorius Rhodius, a Hellenic epic poet and scholar of the Library of Alexandria who flourished in the third century BC writes the ending even better in his 'Argonautica':

"...he [Hēraklēs] carried the boar alive that fed in the thickets of Lampeia, near the vast Erymanthian swamp, the boar bound with chains he put down from his huge shoulders at the entrance to the market-place of Mycenae" [122]

Another little tidbit by Diodorus, to which the image at the top of his post relates:

"...when it came to the struggle he kept so careful an eye on the proper balance that he brought back the boar alive to Eurystheus; and when the king saw him carrying the boar on his shoulders, he was terrified and hid himself in a bronze vessel." [4.12.2]

This labour was quite costly to Hēraklēs, who not only singlehandedly slew most of the kéntauroi, but also killed two good men--and all over a bottle of wine, I might add. Hēraklēs still has many labours ahead of him, and his adventure is far from over. For now, though, we will let our hero recover from this ordeal.


Image property: here.
Today is my birthday. At 6:40 AM, I turned 28. I don't celebrate my birthday, I haven't since I moved out of my parents' house. I made a lame attempt the first year, but I am not good at birthdays. To be honest, social gatherings without a specific purpose (like ritual, or work, or studying, etc.) are not part of my skill set. During birthdays (my own or otherwise) I end up cleaning dishes, getting drinks, and running around like a headless chicken. It takes me days to recover emotionally. So, I took the smart way out, and stopped celebrating my birthday. Now the day actually feels festive.

My girlfriend and I have found a really good way to deal with my birthday: the morning is ours, for private celebration and groceries. The afternoon is for my parents, my girlfriend's parents, and the few friends who really want to be there to wish me a happy birthday. Around five PM, everyone leaves, and in the evening, my girlfriend and I have a nice dinner out. This year, we're eating tapas.

The ancient Hellenes did not celebrate their birthdays either. Families celebrated the birth of a child, a coming-of-age feast, and feasts after death held on the anniversary of the day of birth (or death, depending on the scholar), but otherwise there were no annual birthday ceremonials. The birthdays of many of the Theoi were ritually acknowledged once a month, but the individual did not celebrate theirs. Herodotos notes this in his Histories, when he describes the birthday practices of the Persians.

"Of all the days in the year, the one which they celebrate most is their birthday. It is customary to have the board furnished on that day with an ampler supply than common. The richer Persians cause an ox, a horse, a camel, and an ass to be baked whole and so served up to them: the poorer classes use instead the smaller kinds of cattle. They eat little solid food but abundance of dessert, which is set on table a few dishes at a time; this it is which makes them say that "the Greeks, when they eat, leave off hungry, having nothing worth mention served up to them after the meats; whereas, if they had more put before them, they would not stop eating." They are very fond of wine, and drink it in large quantities. To vomit or obey natural calls in the presence of another is forbidden among them. Such are their customs in these matters." [133]

This, of course, changed with the Romans--especially the Emperors--but the ancient Hellenes found the birthdays of the Gods much more important.

I look forward to the day. I will enjoy the time spent with my girlfriend, and presents are always good. On my wish list? Lots of ancient Hellenic plays. Lets see if I find the time to read them in the coming year.