Cfce Jti&targ Of t|>« (Kntoewitg of iQortb Carolina CnHotorD bp h Da *cJ2[ J* ^ Q J6 6^ a s ff D (< B.C. 1500.] Cadmus's Letters. 57 Explanation of the figures. express the name Cleopatra, a very common name for princesses of the royal line in Egypt during the dynasty of the Ptolemy's. We mark the various figures forming the inscrip- tion, with the letters which modern interpre- ters have assigned to them. It will be seen that they all spell, rudely indeed, but yet tol- erably distinctly, the name C leopatra. By a careful examination of these speci mens, it will be seen that the order of placing the letters, if such hieroglyphical characters can be so called, is not regular, and the let- ter #, which is denoted by a bird in some of the specimens, is represented differently in others. There are also two characters at the close of each inscription which are not repre- sented by any letter, the one being of the form of an egg, and the other a semicircle. These last are supposed to denote the sex of the sovereign whose name they are connected with, as they are found in many cases in in- scriptions commemorative of princesses and queens. They are accordingly specimens of symbolic characters, while all the others in the name are phonetic. It seems therefore not improbable that the principle of forming a written language by 58 Romulus. [B.C. 1500. Moses in Egypt. Importance of the art of writing. means of characters representing the sounds of which the words of the spoken language are composed, was of Egyptian origin ; and that it was carried in very early times to the countries on the eastern shore of the Mediter- ranean sea, and there improved upon by the adoption of a class of characters more simple than the hieroglyphics of Egypt, and of a form more convenient for a regular linear ar- rangement in writing. Moses, who spent his early life in Egypt, and who was said to be learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, may have acquired the art of writing there. However this may be, and whatever may be the uncertainty which hangs over the early history of this art, one thing is certain, and that is, that the discovery of the art of writ- ing, including that of printing, which is only the consummation and perfection of it, — the art by which man can record language, and give life and power to the record to speak to the eye permanently and forever — to go to every nation — to address itself simultaneously to millions of minds, and to endure through all time, is by far the greatest discovery, in respect to the enlargement which it makes of human powers, that has ever been made. B.C. 1200.] Story of ^Eneas. 59 Story of ^Eneas remained long unwritten. Chapter II. The Story of ^Eneas. BESIDES the intrinsic interest and impor- tance of the facts stated in the last chap- ter, to the student of history, there was a special reason for calling the attention of the reader to them here, that he might know in what light the story of the destruction of Troy, and of the wanderings of JEneas, the great ancestor of Romulus, which we now proceed to relate, is properly to be regarded. The events connected with the destruction of Troy, took place, if they ever occurred at all, about the year twelve hundred before Christ. Ho- mer is supposed to have lived and composed his poems about the year nine hundred ; and the art of writing is thought to have been first employed for the purpose of recording contin- uous compositions, about the year six hundred. The story of JSneas then, so far as it has any claims to historical truth, is a tale which was handed down by oral tradition, among story- tellers for three hundred years, and then was 60 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. Mother of ^Eneas. Her origin. clothed in verse, and handed down in that form orally by the memory of the reciters of it, in generations successive for three hundred years more, before it was recorded ; and dur- ing the whole period of this transmission, the interest felt in it was not the desire for ascer- taining and communicating historic truth, but simply for entertaining companies of listeners with the details of a romantic story. The story, therefore, can not be relied upon as his- torically true ; but it is no less important on that account, that all well-informed persons should know what it is. The mother of ^Eneas (as the story goes), was a celebrated goddess. Her name was Aphrodite ;* though among the Romans she afterward received the name of Yenus. Aph- rodite was not born of a mother, like ordinary mortals, but sprang mysteriously and super- naturally from a foam which gathered on a certain occasion upon the surface of the sea. At the commencement of her existence she crept out upon the shores of an island that was near, — the island of Cythera, — which lies south of the Peloponnesus. * Pronounced in four syllables, Aph-ro-di-te. B.C. 1200.] Story of JEneas. 61 Early history of Venus. Her magical powers. OBIGIN OP VENUS. She was the goddess of love, of beauty, and of fruitfulness ; and so extraordinary were the magical powers which were inherent from the beginning, in her very nature, that as she walked along upon the sands of the shore, when she first emerged from the sea, plants and flowers of the richest verdure and beauty sprang up at her feet wherever she stepped. She was, besides, in her own person, inexpres- sibly beautiful ; and in addition to the natu- ral influence of her charms, she was endued with the supernatural power of inspiring the sentiment of love in all who beheld her. From Cythera the goddess made her way over by sea to Cyprus, where she remained for some time, amid the gorgeous and magnificent scenery of that enchanting island. Here she 62 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. Her children Eros ai>d Anteros. She goes to Olympus. had two children, beautiful boys. Their names were Eros and Anteros. Each of these chil- dren remained perpetually a child, and Eros, in later times called Cupid, became the god of "love bestowed," while Anteros was the God of "love returned." After this the mother and the boys roamed about the world, — now in the heavenly regions above, and now among mortals on the plains and in the valleys below : they sometimes appeared openly, in their true forms, sometimes they assumed disguises, and sometimes they were wholly invisible ; but whether seen or unseen, they were always busy in performing their functions — the mother inspiring everywhere, in the minds both of gods and men, the ten-, derest sentiments of beauty and desire, — while Eros, awakened love in the heart of one person for another, and Anteros made it his duty to tease and punish those who thus be- came objects of affection, if they did not re- turn the love. After some time, Aphrodite and her boys found their way to the heavenly regions of Mount Olympus, where the great divinities resided,-' and there they soon produced great * See Map, page 61. B.C. 1200.] Story of Jneas. 63 Aphrodite's love for Anchises. The golden apple. trouble, by enkindling the names of love in the hearts of the divinities themselves, caus- ing them, by her magic power, to fall in love not only with one another, but also with mortal men and women on the earth below. In re- taliation upon Aphrodite for this mischief, Jupiter, by his supreme power, inspired Aph- rodite herself with a sentiment of love. The object of her affection was Anchises, a hand- some youth, of the royal family of Troy, who lived among the mountains of Ida, not far from the city. The way in which it happened that the af- fection of Aphrodite turned toward an inhab- itant of Mount Ida was this. There had been at one time a marriage among the divinities, and a certain goddess who had not been in- vited to the wedding, conceived the design of avenging herself for the neglect, by pro- voking a quarrel among those who were there. She, accordingly, caused a beautiful golden apple to be made, with an inscription marked upon it, "For the most beautiful." This apple she threw in among the guests assem- bled at the wedding. The goddesses all claimed the prize, and a very earnest dispute arose among them in respect to it. Jupiter 64 Romulus. [B.C. 1200 The award of Paris. Venus's residence at Bit. Ida. sent the several claimants, under the charge of a special messenger, to Mount Ida, to a handsome and accomplished young shepherd there, named Paris — who was, in fact, a prince in disguise — that they might exhibit them- selves to him, and submit the question of the right to the apple to his award. The contend- ing goddesses appeared accordingly before Paris, and each attempted to bribe him to de- cide in her favor, by offering him some pe- culiar and tempting reward. Paris gave the apple to Aphrodite, and she was so pleased with the result, that she took Paris under her special protection, and made the solitudes of Mount Ida one of her favorite retreats. Here she saw and became acquainted with Anchises, who was, as has already been said, a noble, or prince, by descent, though he had for some time been dwelling away from the city, and among the mountains, rearing flocks and herds. Here Aphrodite saw him, and when Jupiter inspired her with a sudden sus- ceptibility to the power of love, the shepherd Anchises was the object toward which her affections turned. She accordingly went to Mount Ida, and giving herself up to him, she lived with him for some time among the B.C. 1200.] StDbt of Jneas. 65 Aphrodite's assumed character. She leaves Anchises. mountains as his bride. ^Eneas was their son. Aphrodite did not, however, appear to An- chises in her true character, but assumed, instead, the form and the disguise of a Phry- gian princess. Phrygia was a kingdom of Asia Minor, not very far from Troy. She con- tinued this disguise as long as she remained with Anchises at Mount Ida ; at length, how- ever, she concluded to leave him, and to return to Olympus, and at her parting she made herself known. She, however, charged Anchises never to reveal to any person who she was, declaring that JEneas, whom she was going to leave with his father when she went away, would be destroyed by a stroke of lightning from heaven, if the real truth in respect to his mother were ever revealed. "When Aphrodite had gone, Anchises, hav- ing now no longer any one at home to attend to the rearing of the child, send him to Dar- danus, a city to the northward of Troy, where he was brought up in the house of his sister, the daughter of Anchises, who was married and settled there. His having a sister old enough to be married, would seem to show that youth was not one of the attractions of E 66 KoMiTLus. [B.C. 1200. Childhood of iEneas. The Trojan war. Achilles. Anchises in Aphrodite's eyes. ^Eneas re- mained with his sister until he was old enough to be of service in the care of flocks and herds, and then returned again to his former resi- dence among the pasturages of the mountains. His mother, though she had left him, did not forget her child ; but watched over him con- tinually, and interposed directly to aid or to protect him, whenever her aid was required by the occurrence of any emergency of diffi- culty or danger. At length the Trojan war -broke out. For a time, however, ^Eneas took no part in it. He was jealous of the attentions which Priam, the king of Troy, paid to other young men, and fancied that he himself was overlooked, and that the services that he might render were undervalued. He remained, therefore, at his home among the mountains, occupying himself with his flocks and herds ; and he might, perhaps, have continued in these peace- ful avocations to the end of the war, had it not been that Achilles, one of the most formi- dable of the Grecian leaders, in one of his forays in the country around Troy, in search of provisions, came upon JEneas's territory, and attacked him while tending his flocks B.C. 1200.] Stoey of Jneas. 69 .(Eneas engages in the war. Story of Pandarus. upon the mountain side. Achilles seized the nocks and herds, and drove iEneas and his fellow-herdsmen away. They would, in fact, all have been killed, had not Aphrodite in- terposed to protect her son and save his life. The loss of his flocks and herds, and the injury which he himself had received, aroused iEneas's indignation and anger against the Greeks. He immediately raised an armed force of Dardanians, and thenceforth took an active part in the war. He became one of the most distinguished among the combatants, for his prowess and his bravery ; and being always assisted by his mother in his conflicts, and rescued by her when in danger, he per- formed prodigies of strength and valor. At one time he pressed forward into the thickest of the battle to rescue a Trojan leader named Pandarus, who was beset by his foes and brought into very imminent danger. ^Eneas did not succeed in saving his friend. Pandarus was killed. JEneas, however, flew to the spot, and by means of the most extra- ordinary feats of strength and valor he drove the Greeks away from the body. They at- tacked it on every side, but JEneas, wheeling around it, and fighting now on this side and 70 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. ^Eneas rescued by bis mother. Her magic vail. now on that, drove them all away. They re- tired to a little distance and then began to throw in a shower of spears and darts and ar- rows upon him. ./Eneas defended himself and the body of his friend from these missiles for a time, with his shield. At length, how- ever, he was struck in the thigh with a pon- derous stone which one of the Greek warriors hurled at him, — a stone so heavy that two men of ordinary strength would have been required to lift it. JEneas was felled to the ground by the blow. He sank down, resting upon his arm, faint and dizzy, and being thus made helpless would have immediately been overpowered and killed by his assailants had not his mother interposed. She came imme- diately to rescue him. She spread her vail over him, which had the magic power of ren- dering harmless all blows which were aimed at what was covered by it, and then taking him up in her arms she bore him off through the midst of his enemies unharmed. The swords, S23ears, and javelins which were aimed at him were rendered powerless by the magic vail. Aphrodite, however, flying thus with her wounded son, mother-like, left herself exposed B.C. 1200.] Story of JJneas. 71 Venus is wounded. Iris conveys her away. in her anxiety to protect him. Diomedes, the chief of the pursuers, following headlong on, aimed a lance at Yenus herself. The lance struck Yenus in the hand, and inflicted a very severe and painful wound. It did not, how- ever, stop her night. She pressed swiftly on, while Diomedes, satisfied with his revenge, gave up the pursuit, but called out to Aphro- dite as she disappeared from view, bidding her learn from the lesson which he had given her that it would be best for her thenceforth to remain in her own appropriate sphere, and not come down to the earth and interfere in the contests of mortal' men. Aphrodite, after conveying ^Eneas to a place of safety, fled, herself, faint and bleeding, to the mountains, where, after ascending to the region of mists and clouds, Iris, the beautiful goddess of the rainbow, came to her aid. Iris found her faint and pale from the loss of blood ; she did all in her power to soothe and comfort the wounded goddess, and then led her far- ther still among the mountains to a place where they found Mars, the god of war, stand- ing with his chariot. Mars was Aphrodite's brother. He took compassion upon his sister in her distress, and lent Iris his chariot and 72 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. Single combat between ^Eneas and Achillea. horses, to convey Aphrodite home. Aphro- dite ascended into the chariot, and Iris took the reins ; and thus they rode through the air to the mountains of Olympus. Here the gods and goddesses of heaven gathered around their unhappy sister, bound up her wound, and expressed great sympathy for her in her sufferings, uttering at the same time many piteous complaints against the merciless vio- lence and inhumanity of men. Such is the ancient tale of ^Eneas and his mother. At a later period in the history of the war, iEneas had a grand combat with Achilles, who was the most terrible of all the Grecian warriors, and was regarded as the grand champion of their cause. The two armies were drawn up in battle array. A vast open space was left between them on the open plain. Into this space the two combatants advanced, JEneas on the one side and Achilles on the other, in full view of all the troops, and of the throngs of spectators assembled to witness the proceedings. A very strong and an universal interest was felt in the approaching combat. ^Eneas, be- sides the prodigious strength and bravery for which he was renowned, was to be divinely B.C. 1200.] Story of ^Eneas. 73 The charmed life of Achilles. His shield. aided, it was known, by the protection of his mother, who was always at hand to guide and support him in the conflict, and to succor him in danger. Achilles, on the other hand, pos- sessed a charmed life. He had been dipped by his mother Thetis, when an infant, in the river Styx, to render him invulnerable and immortal ; and the immersion produced the effect intended in respect to all those parts of the body which the water laved. As, how- ever, Thetis held the cliild by the ankles when she plunged him in, the ankles remained un- affected by the magic influence of the water. All the other parts of the body were rendered incapable of receiving a wound. Achilles had a very beautiful and costly shield which his mother had caused to be made for him. It was formed of five plates of metal. The outermost plates on each side were of brass ; in the centre was a plate of gold ; and between the central plate of gold and the outer ones of brass were two other plates, one on each side, made of some third metal. The workmanship of this shield was of the most elaborate and beautiful character. The mother of Achilles had given this weapon to her son when he left home to join the 74 Komulus. [B.C. 1200. The meeting of ^Eneas and Achilles on the field. Greeks in the Trojan war, not trusting entirely it seems to his magical invulnerability. The armies looked on with great interest as these two champions advanced to meet each other, while all the gods and goddesses sur- veyed the scene with almost equal interest, from their abodes above. Some joined Yenus in the sympathy which she felt for her son, while others espoused the cause of Achilles. "When the two combatants had approached each other, they paused before commencing the conflict, as is usual in such cases, and sur- veyed each other with looks of anger and de- fiance. At length Achilles spoke. He began to upbraid ^Eneas for his infatuation and folly in engaging in the war, and especially for coming forward to put his life at hazard by encountering such a champion as was now before him. "What can you gain," said he, " even if you conquer in this warfare ? You can never be king, even if you succeed in saving the city. I know you claim to be descended from the royal line ; but Priam has sons who are the direct and immediate heirs, and your claims can never be allowed. Then, besides, what folly to attempt to contend with me ! Me, the strongest, bravest, and mosl B.C. 1200.] Stoey op Jneas. 75 The harangues of the combatants. terrible of the Greeks, and the special favorite of many deities." With this introduction Achilles went on to set forth the greatness of his pedigree, and the loftiness of his preten- sions to superiority over all others in personal prowess and valor, in a manner very eloquent indeed, and in a style which it seems was very much admired in those days as evincing only a proper spirit and energy, — though in our times such a harangue would be very apt to be regarded as only a vainglorious and empty boasting. uEneas replied, — retorting with vauntings on his side no less spirited and energetic than those which Achilles had expressed. He gave a long account of his pedigree, and of his various claims to lofty consideration. He, however, said, in conclusion, that it was idle and useless for them to waste their time in such a war of words, and so he hurled his spear at Achilles with all his force, as a token of the commencement of the battle. The spear struck the shield of Achilles, and impinged upon it with such force that it pen- etrated through two of the plates of metal which composed the shield, and reached the central plate of gold, where the force with 76 Komulus. [B.C. 1200. The battle begun. Narrow escape. which it had been thrown being spent, it was arrested and fell to the ground. Achilles then exerting his utmost strength threw his spear in return. ./Eneas crouched down to avoid the shock of the weapon, holding his shield at the same time above his head, and bracing himself with all his force against the approaching concussion. The spear struck the shield near the upper edge of it, as it was held in ^Eneas's hands. It passed directly through the plates of which the shield was composed, and then continuing its course, it glided down just over JEneas's back, and planted itself deep in the ground behind him, and stood there quivering. JEneas crept out from beneath it with a look of horror. Immediately after throwing his spear, and perceiving that it had failed of its intended effect, Achilles drew his sword and rushed forward to engage -ZEneas, hand to hand. JSneas himself recovering in an instant from the consternation which his narrow escape from impalement had awakened, seized an enormous stone, heavier, as Homer represents it, than any two ordinary men could lift, and was about to hurl it at his advancing foe, when suddenly the whole combat was termi- B.C. 1200.] Story of ^E^eas. 77 Sudden termination of the combat. nated by a very unexpected interposition. It seems that the various gods and goddesses, from their celestial abodes among the sum- mits of Olympus, had assembled in invisible forms to witness this combat — some sympa- thizing with and upholding one of the comba- tants, and some the other. Neptune was on iEneas's side ; and accordingly when he saw how imminent the danger was which threat- ened iEneas, when Achilles came rushing upon him with his uplifted sword, he at once resolved to interfere. He immediately rushed, himself, between the combatants. He brought a sudden and supernatural mist over the scene, such as the God of the Sea has always at his command ; and this mist at once con- cealed ^Eneas from Achilles's view. Nep- tune drew the spear out of the ground, and released it too from the shield which remained still pinned down by it ; and then threw the spear down at Achilles's feet. He next seized iEneas, and lifting him high above the ground he bore him away in an invisible form over the heads of soldiers and horsemen that had been drawn up in long lines around the field of combat. When the mist passed away Achilles saw his spear lying at his feet, and 78 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. The tales of the iEneid. on looking around him found that his enemy was gone. Such are the marvelous tales which were told by the ancient narrators, of the prowess and exploits of ^Eneas under the walls of Troy, and of the interpositions which were put forth to save him in moments of desperate danger, by beings supernatural and divine. These tales were in those days believed as sober history. That which was marvelous and philosophically incredible in them, was sacredly sheltered from question by mingling itself with the prevailing principles of reli- gious faith. The tales were thus believed, and handed down traditionally from genera- tion to generation, and admired and loved by all who heard and repeated them, partly on account of their romantic and poetical beauty, and partly on account of the sublime and sa- cred revelations which they contained, in respect to the divinities of the spiritual world. B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 79 Termination of the siege of Troy. Chapter IY. The Destruction of Troy. AFTER the final conquest and destruction of Troy, ^Eneas, in the course of his wanderings, stopped, it was said, at Car- thage, on his way to Italy, and there, accord- ing to ancient story, he gave the following account of the circumstances attending the capture and the sacking of the city, and his own escape from the scene. One day, after the war had been continued with various success for a long period of time, the sentinels on the walls and towers of the city began to observe extraordinary move- ments in the camp of the besiegers, which seemed to indicate preparations for breaking up the camp and going away. Tents were struck. Men were busy passing to and fro, arranging arms and military stores, as if for transportation. A fleet of ships was drawn up along the shore, which was not far distant, and a great scene of activity manifested itself upon the bank, indicating an approaching 80 K o m u l u s. [B.C. 1200. Appearances observed by the besieged. embarkation. In a word, the tidings soon spread throughout the city, that the Greeks had at length become weary of the protracted contest, and were making preparations to withdraw from the field. These proceedings were watched, of course, with great interest from the walls of the city, and at length the inhabitants, to their inexpressible joy, found their anticipations and hopes, as they thought, fully realized. The camp of the Greeks was gradually broken up, and at last entirely abandoned. The various bodies of troops were drawn off one by one to the shore, where they were embarked on board the ships, and then sailed away. As soon as this result was made sure, the Trojans threw open the gates of the city, and came out in throngs, — soldiers and citizens, men, women and children togeth- er, — to explore the abandoned encampment? and to rejoice over the departure of their ter- rible enemies. The first thing which attracted their atten- tion was an immense wooden horse, which stood upon the ground that the Greek en- campment had occupied. The Trojans im- mediately gathered, one and all, around the monster, full of wonder and curiosity. JEneas, B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 81 The wooden horse. Its probable size. in narrating the story, says that the image was as large as a mountain ; but, as he after- ward relates that the people drew it on wheels within the walls of the city, and espe- cially as he represents them as attaching the ropes for this purpose to the neck of the im- age, instead of to its fore-legs, which would have furnished the only proper points of at- tachment if the e&igj had been of any very extraordinary size, he must have had a very small mountain in mind in making the com- parison. Or, which is perhaps more proba- ble, he used the term only in a vague meta- phorical sense, as we do now when we speak of the waves of the ocean as running moun- tain high, when it is well ascertained that the crests of the billows, even in the most violent and most protracted storms, never rise more than twenty feet above the general level. At all events, the image was large enough to excite the wonder of all the beholders. The Trojan people gathered around it, wholly unable to understand for what purpose the Greeks could have constructed such a mon- ster, to leave behind them on their departure from Troy. After the first emotions of aston- ishment and wonder which the spectacle awa- F 82 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. Various opinions in respect to the disposal of it. kened, had somewhat subsided, there followed a consultation in respect to the disposal which was to be made of the prodigy. The opinions on this point were very various. One com- mander was disposed to consider the image a sacred prize, and recommended that they should convey it into the city, and deposit it in the citadel, as a trophy of victory. An- other, dissenting decidedly from this counsel, said that he strongly suspected some latent treachery, and he proposed to build a fire under the body of the monster, and burn the image itself and all contrivances for mischief which might be contained in it, together. A third recommended that they should hew it open, and see for themselves what there might be within. One of the Trojan leaders named Laocoon, who, just at this juncture, came to the sj)ot, remonstrated loudly and earnestly against having any thing to do with so mys- terious and suspicious a prize, and, by way of expressing the strong animosity which he felt toward it, he hurled his spear with all his force against the monster's side. The spear stood trembling in the wood, producing a deep hollow sound by the concussion. "What the decision would have been in re- B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 83 Sudden appearance of a captive. His wretched condition. spect to the disposal of the horse, if this con- sultation and debate had gone on, it is impos- sible to say, as the farther consideration of the subject was all at once interrupted, by new occurrences which here suddenly inter- vened, and which, after engrossing for a time the whole attention of the company assembled, finally controlled the decision of the question. A crowd of peasants and shepherds were seen coming from the mountains, with much ex- citement, and loud shouts and outcries, bring- ing with them a captive Greek whom they had secured and bound. As the peasants came up with their prisoner, the Trojans gath- ered eagerly round them, full of excitement and threats of violence, all thirsting, appa- rently, for their victim's blood. He, on his part, filled the air with the most piteous lam- entations and cries for mercy. His distress and wretchedness, and the earnest entreaties which he uttered, seemed at length to soften the hearts of his enemies, and finally, the violence of the crowd around the captive became somewhat appeased, and was succeeded by a disposition to question him, and hear what he had to say. The Greek told them, in answer to their interro- 84 Ro mulls. [B.C. 1200. Sinon's account of the departure of the Greeks. gations, that his name was Sinon, and that he was a fugitive from his own countrymen the Greeks, who had been intending to kill him. He said that the Greek leaders had long been desirous of abandoning the siege of Troy, and that they had made many attempts to embark their troops and sail away, but that the winds and seas had risen against them on every such attempt, and defeated their de- sign. They then sent to consult the oracle of Apollo, to learn what was the cause of the displeasure and hostility thus manifested against them by the god of the sea. The ora- cle replied, that they could not depart from Troy, till they had first made an atoning and propitiatory offering by the sacrifice of a man, such an one as Apollo himself might desig- nate. "When this answer was returned, the whole army, as Sinon said, was thrown into a state of consternation. No one knew but that the fatal designation might fall on him. The leaders were, however, earnestly determined on carrying the measure into effect. Ulysses called upon Calchas, the priest of Apollo, to point out the man who was to die. Calcha3 waited day after day, for ten days, before the divine intimation was made to him in respect B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 85 His story of the proposed sacrifice. His escape. to the individual who was to suffer. At length he said that Sinon was the destined victim. His comrades, Sinon said, rejoicing in their own escape from so terrible a doom, eagerly assented to the priest's decision, and immediately made preparations for the cere mony. The altar was reared. The victim was adorned for the sacrifice, and the gar- lands, according to the accustomed usage, were bound upon his temples. He contrived, however, he said, at the last moment, to make his escape. He broke the bands with which he had been bound, and fled into a morass near the shore, where he remained concealed in inaccessible thickets until the Greeks had sailed away. He then came forth and was at length seized and bound by the shepherds of the mountains, who found him wandering about, in extreme destitution and misery. Si- non concluded his tale by the most piteous lamentations, on his wretched lot. The Tro- jans, he supposed, would kill him, and the Greeks, on their return to his native land, in their anger against him for having made his escape from them, would destroy his wife and children. The air and manner with which Sinon told 86 R 0MULU8. [B.C. 1200. Priam's address to him. Sinon's account of the hor9e. this story seemed so sincere, and so natural and unaffected were the expressions of wretch- edness and despair with which he ended his narrative, that the Trojan leaders had no sus- picion that it was not true. Their compassion was moved for the wretched fugitive, and they determined to spare his life. Priam, the aged king, who was present at the scene, in the midst of the Trojan generals, ordered the cords with which the peasants had bound the captive to be sundered, that he might stand before them free. The king spoke to him, too, in a kind and encouraging manner. " For- get your countrymen," said he. " They are gone. Henceforth you shall be one of us. We will take care of you." " And now," he continued, " tell us what this monstrous image means. "Why did the Greeks make it, and why have they left it here ?" Sinon, as if grateful for the generosity with which his life had been spared, professed him- self ready to give his benefactors the fullest information. He told them that the wooden horse had been built by the Greeks to replace a certain image of Pallas which they had previously taken and borne away from Troy. It was to replace this image, Sinon said, that B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 87 Effect produced by Siuon's story. the Greeks had built the wooden horse ; and their purpose in making the image of this monstrous size was to prevent the possibility of the Trojans taking it into the city, and thus appropriating to themselves the benefit of its protecting efficacy and virtue. The Trojans listened with breathless inter- est to all that Sinon said, and readily believ- ed his story ; so admirably well did he coun- terfeit, by his words and his demeanor, all the marks and tokens of honest sincerity in what he said of others, as well of grief and despair in respect to his own unhappy lot. The cur- rent of opinion which had begun before to set strongly in favor of destroying the horse, was wholly turned, and all began at once to look upon the colossal image as an object of sacred veneration, and to begin to form plans for transporting it within the limits of the city. Whatever remaining doubts any of them might have felt on the subject were dispelled by the occurrence of a most extraordinary phenomenon just at this stage of the affair, which was understood by all to be a divine judgment upon Laocoon for his sacreligious temerity in striking his spear into the horse's side. It had been determined to offer a sacri- Komulub. [B.C. 1200. The serpents and Laocoon. flee to Neptune. Lots were drawn to deter- mine who should perform the rite. The lot fell upon Laocoon. He began to make prep- arations to perform the duty, assisted by his two young sons, when suddenly two immense serpents appeared, coming up from the sea. They came swimming over the surface of the water, with their heads elevated above the waves, until they reached the shore, and then gliding swiftly along, they advanced across the plain, their bodies brilliantly spotted and glittering in the sun, their eyes flashing, and their forked and venomous tongues darting threats and defiance as they came. The people fled in dismay. The serpents, disregarding all others, made their way directly toward the affrighted children of Laocoon, and twin- ing around them they soon held the writhing and struggling limbs of their shrieking victims hopelessly entangled in their deadly convo- lutions. Laocoon, who was himself at a little distance from the spot, when the serpents came, as soon as he saw the danger and heard the agonizing cries of his boys, seized a weapon and ran to rescue them. Instead, however, of being able to save his children, he only involved himself B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Teot. 89 Ancient statue of Laocoon. Its history. in their dreadful fate. The serpents seized him as soon as he came within their reach, and taking two turns around his neck and two around his body, and binding in a re- morseless gripe the forms of the fainting and dying boys with other convolutions, they raised their heads high above the group of victims which they thus enfolded, and hissed and darted out their forked tongues in token of defiance and victory. When at length their work was done, they glided away and took refuge in a temple that was near, and coiled themselves up for repose beneath the feet of the statue of a goddess that stood in the shrine. The story of Laocoon has become celebrated among all mankind in modern times by means of a statue representing the catastrophe, which was found two or three centuries ago among the ruins of an ancient edifice at Rome. This statue Was mentioned by an old Roman writer, Pliny, who gave an account of it while it yet stood in its place in the ancient city. He said that it was the work of three artists, a father and two sons, who combined their in- dustry and skill to carve in one group, and with immense labor and care, the representa- tion of Laocoon himself, the two boys, and Romulus. [B.C. 1200. The statue now deposited in the Vatican. Description of it. the two serpents, making five living beings intertwined intricately together, and all carved from one single block of marble. On the de- cline and fall of Rome this statue was lost among the ruins of the city, and for many centuries it was known to mankind only through the description of Pliny. At length it was brought to light again, having been discovered about three centuries ago, under the ruins of the very edifice in which Pliny had described it as standing. It immediately became the object of great interest and atten- tion to the whole world. It was deposited in the Vatican ; a great reward was paid to the owner of the ground on which it was discov- ered ; drawings and casts of it, without num- ber, have been made ; and the original stands in the Vatican now, an object of universal in- terest, as one of the most celebrated sculp- tures of ancient or modern times. Laocoon himself forms the center of the group, with the serpents twined around him, while he struggles, with a fearful expression of terror and anguish in his countenance, in the vain attempt to release himself from their hold. One of the serpents has bitten one of the boys in the side, and the wounded child B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 91 Effect produced upon the Trojans by Laocoon's fate. sinks under the effects of the poison. The other boy, in an agony of terror, is struggling, hopelessly, to release his foot from the convo- lutions with which one of the serpents has en- circled it. The expression of the whole group is exciting and painful, and yet notwith- standing this, there is combined with it a cer- tain mysterious grace and beauty which charms every eye, and makes the composition the wonder of mankind. But to return to the story. The people un- derstood this awful visitation to be the judg- ment of heaven against Laocoon for his sacri- legious presumption in daring to thrust his spear into the side of the image before them, and which they were now very sure they were to consider as something supernatural and divine. They determined with one accord to take it into the city. They immediately began to make prepara- tions for the transportation of it. They raised it from the ground, and fitted to the feet some sort of machinery of wheels or rollers, suitable to the nature of the ground, and strong enough to bear the weight of the colossal mass. The} attached long ropes to the neck of the image, and extended them forward upon the ground ; Romulus. [B.C. 1200 The Trojans draw the horse into the city. and then brought up large companies of citi- zens and soldiers to man them. They arranged a procession, consisting of the generals of the army, and of the great civil dignitaries of the state ; and in addition to these were groups of singing boys and girls, adorned with wreaths and garlands, who were appointed to chant sacred hymns to solemnize the occasion. They widened the access to the city, too, by tearing down a portion of the wall so as to open a sufficient space to enable the monster to get in. "When all was ready the ropes were manned, the signal was given, the ponderous mass began to move, and though it encoun- tered in its progress many difficulties, obstruc- tions, and delays, in due time it was safely deposited in the court of a great public edifice within the city. The wall was then repaired, the day passed away, the night came on, the gates were shut, and the curiosity and wonder of the people within being gradually satisfied, they at length dispersed to their several homes and retired to rest. At midnight the uncon- scious effigy stood silent and alone where its worshipers had left it, while the whole pop- ulation of the city were sunk in slumber, ex- cept the sentinels who had been stationed as B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 93 The Greeks admitted to the city. usual to keep guard at the gates, or to watch upon the towers and battlements above them. In the mean time the Greek fleet, which had sailed away under pretense of finally aban- doning the country, had proceeded only to the island of Tenedos, which was about a league from the shore, and there they had concealed themselves during the day. As soon as night came on they returned to the main land, and disembarking with the utmost silence and se- crecy, they made their way back again under cover of the darkness, as near as they dared to come to the gates of the city. In the mean time Sinon had arisen stealthily from the sleep which he had feigned to deceive those to whose charge he had been committed, and creeping cautiously through the streets he repaired to the place where the wooden horse had been deposited, and there opened a secret door in the side of the image, and liberated a band of armed and desperate men who had been concealed within. These men, as soon as they had descended to the ground and had adjusted their armor, rushed to the city walls, surprised and killed the sentinels and watch- men, threw open the gates, and gave the whole body of their comrades that were lurking 94 Komulus. [B.C. 1200. iEneas awakened by the din. Hia meeting with Pantheus. outside the walls, in the silence and darkness of the night, an unobstructed admission. JEneas was asleep in his house while these things were transpiring. The house where he lived was in a retired and quiet situation, but he was awakened from his sleep by distant outcries and din, and springing from his couch, and hastily resuming his dress, he as- cended to the roof of the house to ascertain the cause of the alarm. He saw flames as- cending from various edifices in the quarter of the city where the Greeks had come in. He listened. He could distinctly hear the shouts of men, and the notes of trumpets sounding the alarm. He immediately seized his armor and rushed forth into the streets, arousing the inhabitants around him from their slumbers by his shouts, and calling upon them to arm themselves and follow him. In the midst of this excitement, there sud- denly appeared before him, coming from the scene of the conflict, a Trojan friend, named Pantheus, who was hastening away from the danger, perfectly bewildered with excitement and agitation. He was leading with him his little son, who was likewise pale w T ith terror. -^Eneas asked Pantheus what had happened. B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Tkoy. 95 His surprise and terror. Pantheus in reply explained to him in hurried and broken words, that armed men, treacher- ously concealed within the wooden horse, had issued forth from their concealment, and had opened the gates of the city, and let the whole horde of their ferocious and desperate enemies in; that the sentinels and guards who had been stationed at the gates had been killed ; and that the Greek troops had full possession of the city, and were barricading the streets and setting fire to the buildings on every side. "All is lost," said he, " our cause is ruined, and Troy is no more." The announcing of these tidings filled ^Eneas and those who had joined him with a species of phrensy. They resolved to press forward into the combat, and there, if they must perish themselves, to carry down as many as possible of their enemies with them to destruction. They pressed on, therefore, through the gloomy streets, guiding their way toward the scene of action by the glare of the fires upon the sky, and by the sounds of the distant tumult and din. They soon found themselves in the midst of scenes of dreadful terror and confusion, — the scenes, in fact, which are usually exhib- 96 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. Adventures of ^Eneaa and Pantheua. The tortoise. ited in the midnight sacking of a city. They met with various adventures during the time that they continued their desperate but hope- less resistance. They encountered a party of Greeks, and overpowered and slew them, and then, seizing the armor which their fallen ene- mies had worn, they disguised themselves in it, in hopes to deceive the main body of the Greeks by this means, so as to mingle among them unobserved, and thus attack and de- stroy such small parties as they might meet without being themselves attacked by the rest. They saw the princess Cassandra, the young daughter of king Priam, dragged away by Greek soldiers from a temple where she had sought refuge. They immediately un- dertook to rescue her, and were at once at- tacked both by the Greek party who had the princess in charge, and also by the Trojan soldiers, who shot arrows and darts down upon them from the roofs above, supposing, from the armor and the plumes which they wore, that they were enemies. They saw the royal palace besieged, and the tortoise formed for scaling the walls of it. The tu- mult and din, and the frightful glare of lurid flames by which the city was illuminated. B.C.1200.] Destruction of Troy. 99 The position of ^Eneas. The tower. formed a scene of inconceivable confusion and terror. ^Eneas watched the progress of the assault upon the palace from the top of certain lofty roofs, to which he ascended for the purpose. Here there was a slender tower, which bad been built for a watch-tower, and had been carried up to such a height that, from the summit of it, the watchmen stationed there could survey all the environs of the city, and on one side look off to some distance over the sea. This tower iEneas and the Trojans who were with him contrived to cut off at its base, and throw over upon the throngs of Grecians that were thundering at the palace gates be- below. Great numbers were killed by the falling ruins, and the tortoise was broken down. The Greeks, however, soon formed an- other tortoise, by means of which some of the soldiers scaled the walls, while others broke down the gates with battering rams and en- gines ; and thus the palace, the sacred and last remaining stronghold of the city, was thrown open to the ferocious and frantic horde of its assailants. The sacking of the palace presented an awful spectacle to the view of ^Eneas and his 100 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. The sacking of the palace. Priatn. companions, as they looked down upon it from the roofs and battlements around. As the walls, one after another, fell in under the resistless blows dealt by the engines that were brought against them, the interior halls, and the most retired and private apartments, were thrown open to view — all illuminated by the glare of the surrounding conflagrations. Shrieks and wailing, and every other species of outcry that comes from grief, terror, and despair, arose from within ; and such sj)ecta- tors as had the heart to look continuously upon the spectacle, could see wretched men running to and fro, and virgins clinging to altars for protection, and frantic mothers vainly endeavoring to find hiding-places for themselves and their helpless children. Priam the king, who was at this time old and infirm, was aroused from his slumbers by the dreadful din, and immediately began to seize his armor, and to prepare himself for rushing into the fight. His wife, however, Hecuba, begged and entreated him to desist. She saw that all was lost, and that any far- ther attempts at resistance would only exas- perate their enemies, and render their own destruction the more inevitable. She per- B.C. 1200.] Destruction of Troy. 101 Priam and Hecuba at the altar. 6uaded the king, therefore, to give up his weapons and go with her to an altar, in one of the courts of the palace, — a place which it would be sacrilege for their enemies to violate — and there patiently and submissively to await the end. Priam yielded to the queen's solicitations, and went with her to the place of refuge which she had chosen; — and the plan which they thus adopted, might very probably have been successful in saving their lives, had it not been for an unex- pected occurrence which suddenly inter- vened, and which led to a fatal result. While they were seated by the altar, in attitudes of submission and suppliance, they were sud- denly aroused by the rushing toward them of one of their sons, who came in, wounded and bleeding from some scene of combat, and pur- sued by angry and ferocious foes. The spent and fainting warrior sank down at the feet of his father and mother, and lay there dying and weltering in the blood which flowed from his wounds. ' The aged king was aroused to madness at this spectacle. He leaped to his feet, seized a javelin, and thundering out at the same time the most loud and bitter impre- cations against the murderers of his son, he 102 Komulus. [B.C. 1200 The death of Priam. The despair of the Trojans. hurled the weapon toward them as they ad- vanced. The javelin struck the shield of the leader of the assailants, and rebounded from it without producing any other effect than to enrage still more the furious spirit which it was meant to destroy. The assailant rushed forward, seized the aged father by the hair, dragged him slipping, as he went, in the blood of his son, up to the altar, and there plunged a sword into his body, burying it to the hilt, — and then threw him down, convulsed and dying, upon the body of his dying child. Thus Priam fell, and with him the last hope of the people of Troy. The city in full possession of their enemies, the palace and citadel sacked and destroyed, and the king slain, they saw that there was nothing now left for which they had any wish to contend. B.C. 1200.] Flight of JIneas. 103 iEneas's reflections. He determines to go home. Chapter Y. The Flight of jEjteas. /TINEAS, from his station upon the battle- j.3-^A ments of a neighboring edifice, wit- nessed the taking of the palace and the death of Priam. He immediately gave up all for lost, and turned his thoughts at once to the sole question of the means of saving himself and his family from impending destruction. He thought of his father, Anchises, who at this time lived with him in the city, and was nearly of the same age as Priam the king, whom he had just seen so cruelly slain. He thought of his wife too, whom he had left at home, and of his little son Ascanius, and he began now to be overwhelmed with the ap- prehension, that the besiegers had found their way to his dwelling, and were, perhaps, at that very moment plundering and destroying it, and perpetrating cruel deeds of violence and outrage upon his wife and family. He determined immediately to hasten home. He looked around to see who of his com- 104 Eomulus. [B.C. 1200. ^Eneas ia left at last alone. He goea away. pan ions remained with him. There was not one. They had all gone and left him alone. Some had leaped down from the battlements and made their escape to other parts of the city. Some had fallen in the attempt to leap, and had perished in the flames that were burning among the buildings beneath them. Others still had been reached by darts and arrows from below, and had tumbled head- long from their lofty height into the street be- neath them. The Greeks, too, had left that part of the city. When the destruction of the palace had been effected, there was no longer any motive to remain, and they had gone away, one band after another, with loud shouts of exultation and defiance, to seek new combats in other quarters of the city. ^Eneas listened to the sounds of their voices, as they gradually died away upon his ear. Thus, in one way and another, all had gone, and vEneas found himself alone. iEneas contrived to find his way back safely to the street, and then stealthily choosing his way, and vigilantly watching against the dan- gers that surrounded him, he advanced cau- tiously among the ruins of the palace, in the direction toward his own home. He had not B.C. 1200.] Flight of ^Eneas. 105 He sees the princess Helen. Stnry of Helen. proceeded far before he saw a female figure lurking in the shadow of an altar near which he had to pass. It proved to be the princess Helen Helen was a Grecian princess, formerly the wife of Menelaus, king of Sparta, but she had eloped from Greece some years before, with Paris, the son of Priam, king of Troy, and this elopement had been the whole cause of the Trojan war. In the first instance, Mene- 106 Bomulus. [B.C. 1200. ^Eneaa determines to destroy her. His reflections. laus, accompanied by another Grecian chief- tain, went to Troy and demanded that Helen should be given up again to her proper hus- band. Paris refused to surrender her. Mene- laus then returned to Greece and organized a grand expedition to proceed to Troy and re- capture the queen. This was the origin of the war. The people, therefore, looked upon Helen as the cause, whether innocent or guilty, of all their calamities. iVhen ^Eneas, therefore, who was, as may well be supposed, in no very amiable or gentle temper, as he hurried along away from the smoking ruins of the palace toward his home, saw Helen endeavoring to screen herself from the destruction which she had been the means of bringing upon all that he held dear, he was aroused to a phrensy of anger against her, and determined to avenge the wrongs of his coun- try by her destruction. "I will kill her," said he to himself, as he rushed forward toward the spot where she was concealed. " There is no great glory it is true in wreaking ven- geance on a woman, or in bringing her to the punishment which her crimes deserve. Still I will kill her, and I shall be commended for the deed. She shall not, after bringing B.C. 1200.] Flight of Jneas. 10T The apparition of Aphrodite. Her words. ruin upon us, escape herself, and go back to Greece in safety and be a queen there again." As ^Eneas said these words, rushing for- ward at the same time, sword in hand, he was suddenly intercepted and brought to a stand by the apparition of his mother, the goddess Aphrodite, who all at once stood in the way before him. She stopped him, took him by the hand, urged him to restrain his useless anger, and calmed and quieted him with soothing words. " It is not Helen," said she, " that has caused the destruction of Troy. It is through the irresistible and irrevocable de- crees of the gods that the city has fallen. It is useless for you to struggle against inevita- ble destiny, or to attempt to take vengeance on mere human means and instrumentalities. Think no more of Helen. Think of your fam- ily. Your aged father, your helpless wife, your little son, — where are they ? Even now while you are wasting time here in vain at- tempts to take vengeance on Helen for what the gods have done, all that are near and dear to you are surrounded by ferocious enemies thirsting for their blood. My to them and save them. I shall accompany you, though 108 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. His mother's magical protection. He reaches his home. unseen, and will protect you and them from every impending danger." As soon as Aphrodite had spoken these words she disappeared from view. ^Eneas, following her injunctions, went directly to- ward his home ; and he found as he passed along the streets that the way was opened for him, by mysterious movements among the armed bands which were passing in every di- rection about the city, in such a manner as to convince him that his mother was really ac- companying him, and protecting his way by her supernatural powers. When he reached home the first person whom he saw was Anchises his father. He told Anchises that all was lost, and that noth- ing now remained for them but to seek safety for themselves by flying to the moun- tains behind the city. But Anchises refused to go. " You who are young," said he, " and who have enough of life before you to be worth preserving, may fly. As for me I will not attempt to save the little remnant that re- mains to me, to be spent, if saved, in misera- ble exile. If the powers of heaven had in- tended that I should have lived any longer, they would have spared my native city, — my B.C. 1200.] Flight of JEneas. 109 The determination of Anchises. Creusa's entreaties. only home. You may go yourselves, but leave me here to die." In saying these words Anchises turned away in great despondency, firmly fixed, apparently, in his determination to remain and share the fate of the city. iEneas and Creusa his wife joined their entreaties in urg- ing him to go away. But he would not be persuaded. iEneas then declared that he would not go and leave his father. If one was to die they would all die, he said, togeth- er. He called for his armor and began to put it on, resolving to go out again into the streets of the city and die, since he must die, in the act of destroying his destroyers. He was, however, prevented from carrying this determination into effect, by Creusa's in- tervention, who fell down before him at the threshold of the door, almost frantic with ex- citement and terror, and holding her little son Ascanius with one arm, and clasping her husband's knees with the other, she begged him not to leave them. "Stay and save us," said she ; " do not go and throw your life away. Or, if you will go, take us with you that we may all die together." The conflict of impulses and passions in this 110 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. The plan formed for the escape of the family. unhappy family continued for some time longer, but it ended at last in the yielding of Anchises to the wishes of the rest, and they all resolved to fly. In the mean time, the noise and uproar in the streets of the city, were drawing nearer and nearer, and the light of the burning buildings breaking out continu- ally at new points in the progress of the con- flagration, indicated that no time was to be lost. ^Eneas hastily formed his plan. His father was too old and infirm to go himself through the city. ^Eneas determined there- fore to carry him upon his shoulders. Little Ascanius was to walk along by his side. Creusa was to follow, keeping as close as pos- sible to her husband lest she should lose him in the darkness of the night, or in the scenes of uproar and confusion through which they would have to pass on the way. The domes- tics of the family were to escape from the city by different routes, each choosing his own, in order to avoid attracting the attention of their enemies ; and when once without the gates they were all to rendezvous again at a cer- tain rising ground, not far from the city, which JSneas designated to them by means of an old deserted temple which marked the B.C. 1200.] Flight of ./Eneas. Ill The lion's skin. The household gods. Creusa. spot, and a venerable cypress which grew there. This plan being formed the party imme- diately proceeded to put it in execution. iEneas spread a lion's skin over his shoulders to make the resting-place more easy for his father, or perhaps to lighten the pressure of the heavy burden upon his own limbs. An- chises took what were called the household gods, in his hands. These were sacred images which it was customary to keep, in those days, in every dwelling, as the symbol and embodi- ment of divine protection. To save these images, when every thing else was given up for lost, was always the object of the last des- perate effort of the husband and father. ^Eneas in this case asked his father to take these images, as it would have been an impi- ety for him, having come fresh from scenes of battle and bloodshed, to have put his hand upon them, without previously performing some ceremony of purification. Ascanius took hold of his father's hand. Creusa fol- lowed behind. Thus arranged they sallied forth from the house into the streets — all dark and gloomy, except so far as they received a partial and inconstant light from the flames 112 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. The whole party proceed towards the gate9. of the distant conflagrations, which glared in the sky, and flashed sometimes upon battle- ments and towers, and upon the tops of lofty dwellings. ^Eneas pressed steadily on, though in a state continually of the highest excitement and apprehension. He kept stealthily along wherever he could find the deepest shadows, under walls, and through the most obscure and the narrowest streets. He was in con- stant fear lest some stray dart or arrow should strike Anchises or Creusa, or lest some band of Greeks should come suddenly upon them, in which case he knew well that they would all be cut down without mercy, for, loaded down as he was with his burden, he would be entirely unable to do any thing to de- fend either himself or them. The party, how- ever, for a time seemed to escape all these dangers, but at length, just as they were ap- proaching the gate of the city, and began to think that they were safe, they were suddenly alarmed by a loud uproar, and by a rush of men which came in toward them from some streets in that quarter of the city, and threat- ened to overwhelm them. Anchises was greatly alarmed. He saw the gleaming B.C. 1200.] Flight of ^Eneas. 113 Escape from the city. Creusa is lost. weapons of the Greeks who were rushing to- ward them, and he called out to iEneas to fly faster, or to turn off some other way, in order to escape the impending danger. JEneas was terrified by the shouts and uproar which i he heard, and his mind was for a moment con- fused by the bewildering influences of the scene. He however hurried forward, running this way and that, wherever there seemed the best prospect of escape, and often embarrassed and retarded in his flight by the crowds of people who were moving confusedly in all directions. At length, however, he succeed- ed in finding egress from the city. He press- ed on, without stopping to look behind him till he reached the appointed place of rendez- vous on the hill, and then gently laying down his burden, he looked around for Creusa. She was nowhere to be seen. ./Eneas was in utter consternation, at find- ing that his wife was gone. He mourned and lamented this dreadful calamity with loud ex- clamations of grief and despair ; then reflect- ing that it was a time for action and not for idle grief, he hastened to conceal his father and Ascanius in a dark and winding valley be- hind the hill, and leaving them there under * H 114 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. iEneas goes back in search of Creusa. the charge of his domestics, he hastened back to the city to see if Creusa could be found. He armed himself completely before he went, being in his desperation determined to encounter every danger in his attempts to find and to recover his beloved wife. He went directly to the gate from which he had come out, and re-entering the city there, he began to retrace, as well as he could, the way that he had taken in coining out of the city — guiding himself as he went, by the light of the flames which rose up here and there from the burning buildings. He went on in this way in a desperate state of agitation and distress, searching everywhere but seeing nothing of Creusa. At length he thought it possible that she had concluded, when she found herself separated from him, to go back to the house, as the safest place of refuge for her, and he determined, accord- ingly, to go and seek her there. This was his last hope, and most cruelly was it disappointed when he came to the place of his dwelling. He found his house, when he arrived near the spot, all in flames. The surrounding buildings were burning too, and the streets in the neighborhood were piled up with furni- B.C. 1200.] Flight of JEneas. 115 He finds that his house has been burned. ture and goods which the wretched inmates of the dwellings had vainly endeavored to save. These inmates themselves were stand- ing around, distracted with grief and terror, and gazing hopelessly upon the scene of dev- astation before them. .^Eneas saw all these things at a glance, and immediately, in a frenzy of excitement, began to call out Crensa's name. He went to and fro among the groups surrounding the fire, calling for her in a frantic manner, and im- ploring all whom he saw to give him some tidings of her. All was, however, in vain. She could not be found. JEneas then went roaming about through other portions of the city, seeking her everywhere, and inquiring for her of every person whom he met that had the appearance of being a friend. His sus- pense, however, was terminated at last by his suddenly coming upon an apparition of the spirit of Creusa, which rose before him in a solitary part of the city, and arrested his pro- gress. The apparition was of preternatural size, and it stood before him in so ethereal and shadow-like a form, and the features beamed upon him with so calm and placid and benignant an expression, as convinced 116 Eomulus. [B.C. 1200. The apparition of Creusa. Her predictions. him that the vision was not of this world. ./Eneas saw at a glance that Creusa's earthly sorrows and sufferings were ended forever. At first he was shocked and terrified at the spectacle. Creusa, however, endeavored to calm and quiet him by soothing words. "My dearest husband," said she, " do not give way thus to anxiety and grief. The events which have befallen us, have not come by chance. They are all ordered by an overruling provi- dence that is omnipotent and divine. It was predetermined by the decrees of heaven that you were not to take me with you in your flight. I have learned what your future des- tiny is to be. There is a long period of weary wandering before you, over the ocean and on the land, and you will have many difficulties, dangers, and trials to incur. You will, how- ever, be conducted safely through them all, and will in the end find a peaceful and happy home on the banks of the Tiber. There you will found a new kingdom ; a princess is even now provided for you there, to become your bride. Cease then to mourn for me ; rather rejoice that I did not fall a captive into the hands of our enemies, to be carried away into Greece and made a slave. I am free, and you B.C. 1200.] Flight of JIneas. 117 Her farewell to her husband. Preparations for departure. must not lament my fate. Farewell. Love Ascanius for my sake, and watch over him and protect him as long as you live." Having spoken these words, the vision be- gan to disappear. JEneas endeavored to clasp the beloved image in his arms to retain it, but it was intangible and evanescent, and, before he could speak to it, it was gone, and he was left standing in the desolate and gloomy street alone. He turned at length slowly away ; and solitary, thoughtful and sad, he went back to the gate of the city, and thence out to the valley where he had con- cealed Anchises and his little son. He found them safe. The whole party then sought places of retreat among the glens and mountains, where they could remain concealed a few days, while iEneas and his companions could make arrangements for abandoning the country altogether. These arrangements were soon completed. As soon as the Greeks had retired, so that they could come out without danger from their place of retreat, ^Eneas employed his men in building a number of small vessels, fitting them, as was usual in those days, both with sails and oars. 118 Romulus. [B.C. 1200. iEneas's company increases. His fleet. The embarkation. During the j)rogress of these preparations, small parties of Trojans were coming in con- tinually, day by day, to join him ; being drawn successively from their hiding-places among the mountains, by hearing that the Greeks had gone away, and that ^Eneas was gradually assembling the remnant of the Tro- jans on the shore. The numbers thus col- lected at JEneas's encampment gradually in- creased, and as ^Eneas enlarged and extended his naval preparations to correspond with the augmenting numbers of his adherents, he found when he was ready to set sail, that he was at the head of a very respectable naval and military force. When the fleet at last was ready, he put a stock of provisions on board, and embarked his men, — taking, of course, Anchises and Ascanius with him. As soon as a favorable wind arose, the expedition set sail. As the vessels moved slowly away, the decks were covered with men and women, who gazed mournfully at the receding shores, conscious that they were bidding a final farewell to their native land. The nearest country within reach in leaving the Trojan coast, was Thrace— a country ly- B.C. 1200.1 Flight of JEneas. 119 Map of the wanderings of ^Eneas. ing north of the Egean sea, and of the Pro- pontis, being separated, in fact, in one part, from the Trojan territories, only by the Hel- WA.NDJiiBli3e»S OS .££:•; hi A lespont. iEneas turned his course northward toward this country, and, after a short voy age, landed there, and attempted to make a settlement. He was, however, prevented from remaining long, by a dreadful prodigy which he witnessed there, and which induced him 120 Komulus. [B.C. 1200. A dreadful prodigy. The bleeding myrtle. to leave those shores very precipitously. The prodigy was this : They had erected an altar on the shore, after they had landed, and were preparing to offer the sacrifices customary on such occa- sions, when iEneas, wishing to shade the altar with boughs, went to a myrtle bush which was growing near, and began to pull up the green shoots from the ground. To his aston- ishment and horror, he found that blood flowed from the roots whenever they were broken. Drops of what appeared to be hu- man blood would ooze from the ruptured part as he held the shoot in his hand, and fall slowly to the ground. He was greatly terri- fied at this spectacle, considering it as some omen of very dreadful import. He imme- diately and instinctively offered up a prayer to the presiding deities of the land, that they would avert from him the evil influences, •whatever they might be, which the omen seemed to portend, or that they would at least explain the meaning of the prodigy. After offering this prayer, he took hold of another stem of the myrtle, and attempted to draw it from the ground, in order to see whether any change in the appearances exhibited by the B.C. 1200.} Flight of JIneas. 121 Words of the myrtle. Story of Polydorus. prodigy liad been effected by bis prayer. At tbe instant, however, wben tbe roots began to give way, be beard a groan coming np from tbe ground below, as if from a person in suf- fering. Immediately afterward a voice, in a mournful and sepulchral accent, began to beg him to go away, and cease disturbing tbe re- pose of tbe dead. "What you are tearing and lacerating," said the voice, " is not a tree, but a man. I am Polydorus. I was killed by the king of Thrace, and instead of burial, have been turned into a myrtle growing on the shore." Polydorus was a Trojan prince. He was the youngest son of Priam, and had been sent some years before to Thrace, to be brought up in the court of the Thracian king. He had been provided with a large supply of money and treasure when he left Troy, in order that all his wants might be abundantly supplied, and that he might maintain, during his ab- sence from home, the position to which his rank as a Trojan prince entitled him. His treasures, however, which had been provided for him by bis father as his sure reliance for support and protection, became the occasion of his ruin — for the Thracian king, wben he found 122 E o m u l u s. [B.C. 1200. .