Saronia / A Romance of Ancient Ephesus

by Richard Short

'Now, inasmuch as these sacred honours are not observed in the holy city, the nurse of its own, the Ephesian goddess; the people of Ephesus deem it proper that the whole month called by her name be sacred and set apart for the goddess; and have determined by this decree that the observation of it by them be improved.

'Therefore, it is enacted that in the whole month Artemision the days be holy, and nothing be attended to in them but the yearly feastings, the Artemisial panegyrics and the hieromenia, the entire month being sacred to the goddess; for, from this improvement in her worship, her cities shall receive additional lustre and be permanent in their prosperity for ever.'

Little crowds coming up from Smyrna and Thyatira, Sardis and Laodicea, from Militus on the coast and Samos on the sea, gathered around and read this proclamation. The people of Ephesus felt themselves honoured by their city being the Temple-home of the great goddess, and all gave themselves up to rejoicing. And the day wore on.

From the great theatre, all the way through the city gate to the finest, largest, and richest Temple ever reared, thousands of people in holiday attire awaited with ardent desire for the great procession which was heralded as it left the Temple.

And now it moves in all its magnificence and music, and symbols of the ceremonies. First came choirs of the most beautiful youths and lovely maidens clothed in white robes, singing responsively the praises of their protecting deity. The procession moved along regularly. Some carried the holy utensils, others torches, others, again, baskets of flowers which were strewn in the way. Perfumes were scattered amongst the people until the air was redolent with sweet odours. Next followed the horses, hounds, and hunting accoutrements, as well for attack as defence; after this came a train of virgins led by a lovely girl dressed in a purple robe. The skin of a fawn girded it round, on which hung a quiver and arrows. She symbolized Diana the Huntress, and was followed by her faithful hounds.

Then came choirs of youths and maidens singing the sacred chants, one choir answering the other, and then unitedly sending forth a peal in unison.

After them a multitude of Ephesian children. Then, with flying feet and swinging, voluptuous forms, the dancing-girls of Ionia.

Now rose on the perfumed air the sound of instruments, from the sweet, low tones of the flute and golden notes of the magadis, to the resounding clang of the cymbals and the beat of the timbrels, playing the 'March of Hell.' Whoever has heard such notes may never forget them—music set to the shrieks of the lost in Tartarus—the wild imploring of the forsaken pleading for forgiveness, as the songs from the dwellers in the Elysian fields break on their sinking souls like a ray of golden hope, too soon to be drowned by the cries of the Furies.

And thus did the Ephesians play the 'March of the Goddess Hecate,' and the sound of the queenly tread of the Infernal Goddess seemed to follow the ranks of her devotees, ranks of priests and priestesses dressed in black raiment bestud with stars of gold, a crescent moon on every brow. They held their hands towards the earth. Now came banners waving in the air, and standards of silver and gold bestud with precious stones. The Temple way blazed out with gorgeous colouring and glittering sheen.

Then rose to view the golden statue of the goddess, with many symbols of earth and sky and sea, supported by bars of gold and borne on the shoulders of stalwart men, all priests of the Temple, followed by a train of virgin priestesses with heads erect, wearing fillets of gold and myrtle-blossoms, each carrying the insignia of her office. These were followed by priests and choirs of singers, and others carrying smaller images of the goddess and silver shrines set with diamonds and emeralds. A company of lovely girls played music like the Dawn of Love.