The chthonian aspect of the Aphrodite cult appears in the legend of the death of Adonis with all its details of funeral lamentations and ceremonies and the great hope of his resurrection. Istar herself descends to the underworld, as we shall see further down (see pp. 85-95), and we know at least that in Cyprus a tomb of Aphrodite has been shown.[12]
One special function of the mother goddess was leadership in war. It was a custom among the Arabians until recent times that the warriors of a tribe were led in battle by a girl riding at their head with breast exposed, inspiring them in their attack to the display of irresistible courage; and if it was a common practice in prehistoric times, we may assume that this function of womanhood established the character of Istar as the goddess of war, later on differentiated as the Greek Pallas Athene and the Roman Bellona.
[Illustration: VENUS VICTRIX.[*] After Hirt, _Bilderbuch_, Plate VII, 11.]
[*] Engraving on a gem representing the statue of Venus Erycina on the Capitoline. This interpretation does not exclude other possibilities. Certainly the attitude of little Eros is artistic and pleasing.]
We may be sure that the character of Aphrodite as Venus Victrix is by no means a late Roman invention of the days of Cæsar but dates back to the most ancient days of Babylonian tradition. She was from the start of history the great _Magna Mater_, the All-Mother and Queen to whom the people appealed in all their needs, especially in war. In Greece she is frequently addressed as νικηφόρος, bringer of victory.
A penitential psalm on the destruction of the ancient city of Erech has been preserved in a fragment which in Theodore G. Pinches’s translation reads thus:[13]
“How long, my Lady, shall the strong enemy hold thy sanctuary? There is want in Erech, thy principal city; Blood is flowing like water in E-ulbar, the house of thine oracle; He, the enemy, has kindled and poured out fire like hailstones on all thy lands. My Lady, sorely am I fettered by misfortune; My Lady, thou hast surrounded me, and brought me to grief. The mighty enemy has smitten me down like a single reed. Not wise myself, I cannot take counsel;[14] I mourn day and night like the fields. I, thy servant, pray to thee.”