Myths and Marvels of Astronomy
again seems likely, nothing short of a miracle could have prevented the
rainbow from making its appearance before the flood. The wildest theory
that can be invented to explain the story of the deluge cannot be
wilder than the supposition that the rays of sunlight shining on falling
raindrops could have ever failed to show the prismatic colours. The
theory I have suggested above, without going so far as strongly to
advocate it, far less insist upon it, is free at any rate from objection
on this particular score, which cannot be said of the ordinary theory. I
am not yet able, however, to say that 'I cannot entertain the smallest
doubt' about my theory.
We may feel tolerably sure that the period when the old southern
constellations were formed must have been between 2400 and 2000 years
before the present era, a period, by the way, including the date usually
assigned to the deluge,--which, however, must really occupy our
attention no further. In fact, let us leave the watery constellations
lying below the equator of those remote times and seek at once the
highest heavens above them.
Here, at the northern pole of these days, we find the great Dragon,
which in any astrological temple of the time must have formed the
highest or crowning constellation, surrounding the very key-stone of the
dome. He has fallen away from that proud position since. In fact, even
4000 years ago he only held to the pole, so to speak, by his tail, and
we have to travel back 2000 years or so to find the pole situate in a
portion of the length of the Dragon which can be regarded as central.
One might almost, if fancifully disposed, recognise the gradual
displacement of the Dragon from his old place of honour, in certain
traditions of the downfall of the great Dragon whose 'tail drew the
third part of the stars of heaven.'
The central position of the Dragon, for even when the pole-star had
drawn near to the Dragon's tail the constellation was still central,
will remind the classical reader of Homer's description of the Shield of
Hercules--
The scaly horror of a dragon, coil'd
Full in the central field, unspeakable,
With eyes oblique retorted, that ascant
Shot gleaming fire. (_Elton's translation._)
I say Homer's description, for I cannot understand how any one who
compares together the description of the Shield of Achilles in the Iliad
and that of the Shield of Hercules in the fragmentary form in which we
have it, can doubt for a moment that both descriptions came from the
same hand. (The theory that Hesiod composed the latter poem can scarcely
be entertained by any scholar.) As I long since pointed out in my essay
'A New Theory of Achilles' Shield' ('Light Science,' first series), no
poet so inferior as actually to borrow Homer's words in part of the
description of the Shield of Hercules could have written the other parts
not found in the Shield of Achilles. 'I cannot for my own part entertain
the slightest doubt'--that is to say, I think it altogether
probable--that Homer composed the lines supposed to describe the Shield
of Hercules long before he introduced the description, pruned and
strengthened, into that particular part of the Iliad where it served his
purpose best. And I have as little doubt that the original description,
of which we only get fragments in either poem, related to something far
more important than a shield. The constellations are not suitable
adornments for the shield of fighting man, even though he was under the
special care of a celestial mother and had armour made for him by a
celestial smith. Yet we learn that Achilles' shield displayed--
The starry lights that heav'n's high convex crown'd
The Pleiads, Hyads, and the northern beam,
And great Orion's more refulgent beam,--
To which, around the cycle of the sky,
The bear revolving, points his golden eye,--
Still shines exalted.
And so forth. The Shield of Hercules displayed at its centre the polar
constellation the Dragon. We read also that--
There was the knight of fair-hair'd Danae born,
Perseus.
Orion is not specially mentioned, but Orion, Lepus, and the Dogs seem
referred to:--
Men of chase
Were taking the fleet hares; two keen-toothed dogs
Bounded beside.
Homer would find no difficulty in pluralising the mighty Hunter and the
hare into huntsmen and hares when utilising a description originally
referring to the constellation.
I conceive that the original description related to one of those zodiac
temples whose remains are still found in Egypt, though the Egyptian
temples of this kind were probably only copies of more ancient Chaldaean
temples. We know from Assyrian sculptures that representations of the
constellations (and especially the zodiacal constellations) were common
among the Babylonians; and, as I point out in the essay above referred
to, 'it seems probable that in a country where Sabaeanism or star-worship
was the prevailing form of religion, yet more imposing proportions would
be given to zodiac temples than in Egypt.' My theory, then, respecting
the two famous 'Shields' is that Homer in his eastern travels visited
imposing temples devoted to astronomical observation and star-worship,
and that nearly every line in both descriptions is borrowed from a poem
in which he described a temple of this sort, its domed zodiac, and those
illustrations of the labours of different seasons and of military or
judicial procedures which the astrological proclivities of
star-worshippers led them to associate with the different
constellations. For the arguments on which this theory is based I have
not here space. They are dealt with in the essay from which I have
quoted.
One point only I need touch upon here, besides those I have mentioned
already. It may be objected that the description of a zodiac temple has
nothing to connect it with the subject of the Iliad. This is certainly
true; but no one who is familiar with Homer's manner can doubt that he
would work in, if he saw the opportunity, a poem on some subject outside
that of the Iliad, so modifying the language that the description would
correspond with the subject in hand. There are many passages, though
none of such length, in both the Iliad and the Odyssey, which seem thus
to have been brought into the poem; and other passages not exactly of
this kind yet show that Homer was not insensible to the advantage of
occasionally using memory instead of invention.
Any one who considers attentively the aspect of the constellation Draco
in the heavens, will perceive that the drawing of the head in the maps
is not correct; the head is no longer pictured as it must have been
conceived by those who first formed the constellation. The two bright
stars Beta and Gamma are now placed on a head in profile. Formerly they
marked the two eyes. I would not lay stress on the description of the
Dragon in the Shield of Hercules, 'with eyes oblique retorted, that
askant shot gleaming fire;' for all readers may not be prepared to
accept my opinion that that description related to the constellation
Draco. But the description of the constellation itself by Aratus
suffices to show that the two bright stars I have named marked the eyes
of the imagined monster--in fact, Aratus's account singularly resembles
that given in the Shield of Hercules. 'Swol'n is his neck,' says Aratus
of the Dragon--
... Eyes charg'd with sparkling fire
His crested head illume. As if in ire,
To Helice he turns his foaming jaw,
And darts his tongue, barb'd with a blazing star.
And the dragon's head with sparkling eyes can be recognised to this day,
so soon as this change is made in its configuration, whereas no one can
recognise the remotest resemblance to a dragon's head in profile. The
star barbing the Dragon's tongue would be Xi of the Dragon according to
Aratus's account, for so only would the eyes be turned towards Helice
the Bear. But when Aratus wrote, the practice of separating the
constellations from each other had been adopted; in fact, he derived his
knowledge of them chiefly from Eudoxus, the astronomer and
mathematician, who certainly would not have allowed the constellations
to be intermixed. In the beginning, there are reasons for believing it
was different, and if a group of stars resembled any known object it
would be called after that object, even though some of the stars
necessary to make up the figure belonged already to some other figure.
This being remembered, we can have no difficulty in retorting the
Dragon's head more naturally--not to the star Xi of the Dragon, but to
the star Iota of Hercules. The four stars are situated thus,
[Illustration] the larger ones representing the eyes; and so far as the
head is concerned it is a matter of indifference whether the lower or
the upper small star be taken to represent the tongue. But, as any one
will see who looks at these stars when the Dragon is best placed for
ordinary (non-telescopic) observation, the attitude of the animal is far
more natural when the star Iota of Hercules marks the tongue, for then
the creature is situated like a winged serpent hovering above the
horizon and looking downwards, whereas when the star Xi marks the
tongue, the hovering Dragon is looking upwards and is in an unnaturally
constrained position. (I would not, indeed, claim to understand
perfectly all the ways of dragons; still it may be assumed that a dragon
hovering above the horizon would rather look downwards in a natural
position than upwards in an awkward one.)
The star Iota of Hercules marks the heel of this giant, called the
Kneeler (Engonasin) from time immemorial. He must have been an important
figure on the old zodiac temples, and not improbably his presence there
as one of the largest and highest of the human figures may have caused a
zodiac-dome to be named after Hercules. The Dome of Hercules would come
near enough to the title, 'The Shield of Hercules,' borne by the
fragmentary poem dealt with above. The foot of the kneeling man was
represented on the head of the dragon, the dragon having hold of the
heel. And here, again, some imagine that a sculptured representation of
these imagined figures in the heavens may have been interpreted and
expanded into the narrative of a contest between the man and the old
serpent the dragon, Ophiuchus the serpent-bearer being supposed to
typify the eventual defeat of the dragon. This fancy might be followed
out like that relating to the deluge; but the present place would be
unsuitable for further inquiries in that particular direction.
Some interest attaches to the constellation Ophiuchus, to my mind, in
the evidence it affords respecting the way in which the constellations
were at first intermixed. I have mentioned one instance in which, as I
think, the later astronomers separated two constellations which had once
been conjoined. Many others can be recognised when we compare the actual
star-groups with the constellation-figures as at present depicted. No
one can recognise the poop of a ship in the group of stars now assigned
to the stern of Argo, but if we include the stars of the Greater Dog,
and others close by, a well-shaped poop can be clearly seen. The head
of the Lion of our maps is as the head of a dog, so far as stars are
concerned; but if stars from the Crab on one side and from Virgo on the
other be included in the figure, and especially Berenice's hair to form
the tuft of the lion's tail, a very fine lion with waving mane can be
discerned, with a slight effort of the imagination. So with Bootes the
herdsman. He was of old 'a fine figure of a man,' waving aloft his arms,
and, as his name implies, shouting lustily at the retreating bear. Now,
and from some time certainly preceding that of Eudoxus, one arm has been