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Φοινιξ Phoinix Phoenix Of Phoenicia ?
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Phoenix, Aberdeen Bestiary manuscript

c. 1200, Aberdeen University Library

THE PHOINIX (or Phoenix) was a fabulous golden-red feathered bird whose body
emitted rays of pure sunlight. The creature lived for at least five hundred years
and roamed the lands of Arabia feeding upon oils of balsalm and frankinsense.
At its time of death a new-born Phoinix emerged fully-grown from its body and
straightaway encased its parent in an egg of myrrh and conveyed it to the great
Egyptian temple of the Sun in Heliopolis.
The Phoenix was a popular creature in Greek and Roman literature, and later
occurs in Medieval bestiaries.

PARENTS

THE PHOINIX (Herodotus 2.73, Ovid Metamorphoses 15.385, Apollonius of Tyana 1.38,
Claudian Phoenix)

OFFSPRING

THE PHOINIX (ibid)

ENCYCLOPEDIA
PHOENIX (Phoinix). A fabulous bird Phoenix, who, according to a belief which
Herodotus (ii. 73) heard at Heliopolis in Egypt, visited that place once in every
five hundred years, on his father's death, and buried him in the sanctuary of
Helios. For this purpose Phoenix was believed to come fror Arabia, and to make
lan egg of myrrh as large as possible; this egg he then hollowved out and put
into it his father, closing it up carefully, and the egg was believed then to be of
exactly the same weight as before. This bird was represented resembling an
eagle, with feathers partly red and partly golden. (Comp. Achill. Tat. iii. 25.) Of
this bird it is further related, thai when his life drew to a close, he built a nest
for himself in Arabia, to which he imparted the power of generation, so that
after his death a new phoenix rose out of it. As soon as the latter was grown
up, he, like his predecessor, proceeded to Heliopolis in Egypt, and burned and
buried his father in the temple of Helios. (Tac. Ann. vi. 28.) According to a story
which has gained more currency in modern times, Phoenix, when he arrived at
a very old age (some say 500 and others 1461 years), committed himself to the
flames. (Lucian, De Mort. Per. 27; Philostr. Vit. Apollon. iii. 49.) Others, again,
state that only one Phoenix lived at a time, and that when he died a worm crept
forth from his body, and was developed into a new Phoenix by the heat of the
sun. His death, further, took place in Egypt after a life of 7006 years. (Tzetz.
Chil. v. 397, &c.; Plin. H. N. x. 2; Ov. Met. xv. 392, &c.) Another modification of
the same story relates, that when Phoenix arrived at the age of 500 years, he
built for himself a funeral pile, consisting of spices, settled upon it, and died.
Out of the decomposing body he then rose again, and having grown up, he
wrapped the remains of his old body up in myrrh, carried them to Heliopolis,
and burnt them there. (Pompon. Mela, iii. 8, in fin.; Stat. Silv. ii. 4. 36.) Similar
stories of marvellous birds occur in many parts of the East, as in Persia, the
legend of the bird Simorg, and in India of the bird Semendar.
Source: Dictionary of Greek and Roman Biography and Mythology.

Hesiod, Precepts of Chiron Fragment 3 (from Plutarch de Orac. defectu 2.415C)

(trans. Evelyn-White) (Greek epic C8th or C7th B.C.) :
"A chattering crow lives out nine generations of aged men, but a stag's life is four
times a crow's and a raven's life makes three stags old, while the Phoinix outlives
nine raves, but we, the rich-haired Nymphai, daughters of Zeus the aegis-holder,
outlive ten Phoinixes."
Herodotus, Histories 2. 73 (trans. Godley) (Greek historian C5th B.C.) :
"There is another sacred bird, too, whose name is Phoinix. I myself have never
seen it, only pictures of it; for the bird seldom comes into Egypt: once in five
hundred years, as the people of Heliopolis say. It is said that the Phoinix comes
when his father dies. If the picture truly shows his size and appearance, his
plumage is partly golden and partly red. He is most like an eagle in shape and
size. What they say this bird manages to do is incredible to me. Flying from
Arabia to the temple of the Helios (the Sun), they say, he conveys his father
encased in myrrh and buries him at the temple of Helios (the Sun). This is how
he conveys him: he first molds an egg of myrrh as heavy as he can carry, then
tries lifting it, and when he has tried it, he then hollows out the egg and puts his
father into it, and plasters over with more myrrh the hollow of the egg into which
he has put his father, which is the same in weight with his father lying in it, and
he conveys him encased to the temple of the Sun in Egypt. This is what they say
this bird does."
Aelian, On Animals 6. 58 (trans. Scholfield) (Greek natural history C2nd A.D.) :
"The Phoinix knows how to reckon five hundred years without the aid of
arithmetic, for it is a pupil of all-wise nature, so that it has no need of fingers or
anything else to aid it in the understanding of numbers. The purpose of this
knowledge and the need for it are matters of common report. But hardly a soul
among the Aigyptoi (Egyptians) knows when the five-hundred-year period is
completed; only a very few know, and they belong to the priestly order. But in
fact the priests have difficulty in agreeing on these points, and banter one
another and maintain that it is not now but at some date later than when it was
due that the divine bird will arrive. Meantime while they are vainly squabbling,
the bird miraculously guesses the period by signs and appears. And the priests
are obliged to give way and confess that thy devote their time ‘to putting the sun
to rest with their talk’; but they do not know as much as birds. But, in God’s
name, is it not wise to know where Aigyptos is situated, where Heliopolis whither
the bird is destined to come, and where it must bury its father and in what kind
of coffin?"
Philostratus, Life of Apollonius of Tyana 3. 49 (trans. Conybeare) (Greek
biography C1st to C2nd A.D.) :
"And the Phoinix,’ he [the C1st AD Indian sage Iarkhas] said, ’is the bird which
visits Aigyptos (Egypt) every five hundred years, but the rest of that time it flies
about in India; and it is unique in that it gives out rays of sunlight and shines
with gold, in size and appearance like an eagle; and it sits upon the nest; which
is made by it at the springs of the Nile out of spices. The story of the Aigyptoi
about it, that it comes to Aigyptos, is testified to by the Indians also, but the
latter add this touch to the story, that the Phoinix which is being consumed in its
nest sings funeral strains for itself. And this is also done by the swans according
to the account of those who have the wit to hear them."
Ovid, Metamorphoses 15. 385 ff (trans. Melville) (Roman epic C1st B.C. to C1st
A.D.) :
"These creatures [other races of birds] all derive their first beginnings from
others of their kind. But one alone, a bird, renews and re-begets itself--the
Phoenix of Assyria, which feeds not upon seeds or verdure but the oils of balsam
and the tears of frankincense. This bird, when five long centuries of life have
passed, with claws and beak unsullied, builds a nest high on a lofty swaying
palm; and lines the nest with cassia and spikenard and golden myrrh and shreds
of cinnamon, and settled there at ease and, so embowered in spicy perfumes,
ends his life’s long span. Then from his father’s body is reborn a little Phoenix, so
they say, to live the same long years. When time has built his strength with
power to raise the weight, he lifts the nest--the nest his cradle and his father’s
tomb--as love and duty prompt, from that tall palm and carries it across the sky
to reach the Sun’s great city [Heliopolis in Egypt], and before the doors of the
Sun’s holy temple lays it down."
Statius, Silvae 3. 2. 101 (trans. Mozley) (Roman poet C1st A.D.) :
"Altars [in Egypt] the long-lived Phoenix prepares for his own death."
Claudian, The Phoenix (trans. Platnaeur) (Roman poet C4th A.D.) :
"There is a leafy wood fringed by Ocean’s farthest marge beyond the Indes and
the East where Dawn’s panting coursers first seek entrance; it hears the lash
close by, what time the watery threshold echoes to the dewy car; and hence
comes forth the rosy morn while night, illumined by those far-shining wheels of
fire, casts off her sable cloak and broods less darkly. This is the kingdom of the
blessèd bird of the sun where it dwells in solitude defended b the inhospitable
nature of the land and immune from the ills that befall other living creatures; nor
does it suffer infection from the world of men. Equal to the gods is that bird
whose life rivals the stars and whose renascent limbs weary the passing
centuries. It needs no food to satisfy hunger nor any drink to quench thirst; the
sun’s clear beam is its food, the sea’s rare spray its drink--exhalations such as
these form its simple nourishment. A mysterious fire flashes from its eyes, and a
flaming aureole enriches its head. Its crest shines with the sun’s own light and
shatters the darkness with its calm brilliance. Its legs are of Tyrian purple;
swifter than those of the Zephyrs are its wings of flower-like blue dappled with
rich gold.
Never was this bird conceived nor springs it from any mortal seed, itself is alike
its own father and son, and with none to recreate it, it renews its outworn limbs
with a rejuvenation of death, and at each decease wins a fresh lease of life. For
when a thousand summers have passed far away, a thousand winters gone by, a
thousand springs in their course given to the husbandmen that shade2 of which
autumn robbed them, then at last, fordone by the number of its years, it falls a
victim to the burden of age; as a tall pine on the summit of Caucasus, wearied
with storms, heels over with its weight and threatens at last to crash in ruin; one
portion falls by reason of the unceasing winds, another breaks away rotted by
the rain, another consumed by the decay of years.
Now the Phoenix’s bright eye grows dim and the pupil becomes palsied by the
frost of years, like the moon when she is shrouded in clouds and her horn beings
to vanish in the mist. Now his wings, wont to cleave the clouds of heaven, can
scarce raise them from the earth. Then, realizing that his span of life is at an end
and in preparation for a renewal of his splendour, he gathers dry herbs from the
sun-warmed hills, and making an interwoven heap of the branches of the
precious tree of Saba he builds that pyre which shall be at once his tomb and his
cradle.
On this he takes his seat and as he grows weaker greets the Sun with his sweet
voice; offering up prayers and supplications he begs that those fires will give him
renewal of strength. Phoebus, on seeing him afar, checks his reins and staying
his course consoles his loving child with these words : `Thou who art about to
leave thy years behind upon yon pyre, who, by this pretence of death, art
destined to rediscover life; thou whose decease means but the renewal of
existence and who by self-destruction regainest thy lost youth, receive back thy
life, quit the body that must die, and by a change of form come forth more
beauteous than ever.'
So speaks he, and shaking his head casts one of his golden hairs and smites
willing Phoenix with its life-giving effulgence. Now, to ensure his rebirth, he
suffers himself to be burned and in his eagerness to be born again meets death
with joy. Stricken with the heavenly flame the fragrant pile catches fire and burns
the aged body. The moon in amaze checks her milk-white heifers and heaven
halts his revolving spheres, while the pyre conceives the new life; Nature takes
care that the deathless bird perish not, and calls upon the sun, mindful of his
promise, to restore its immortal glory to the world.
Straightway the life spirit surges through his scattered limbs; the renovated
blood floods his veins. The ashes show signs of life; they begin to move though
there is none to move them, and feathers clothe the mass of cinders. He who
was but now the sire comes forth from the pyre the son and successor; between
life and life lay but that brief space wherein the pyre burned.
His first delight is to consecrate his father’s spirit by the banks of the Nile and to
carry to the land of Egypt the burned mass from which he was born. With all
speed he wings his way to that foreign strand, carrying the remains in a covering
of grass. Birds innumerable accompany him, and whole flocks thereof throng in
airy flight. Their mighty host shuts out the sky where’er it passes. But from
among so vast an assemblage none dares outstrip the leader; all follow
respectfully in the balmy wake of their king. Neither the fierce hawk nor the
eagle, Jove’s own armour-bearer, fall to fighting; in honour of their common
master a truce is observed by all. Thus the Parthian monarch leads his barbarous
hosts by yellow Tigris’ banks, all glorious with jewels and rich ornament and
decks his tiara with royal garlands; his horse’s bridle is of gold, Assyrian
embroidery embellishes his scarlet robes, and proud with sovereignty he lords it
o’er his numberless slaves.
There is in Egypt a well-known city celebrated for its pious sacrifices and
dedicated to the worship of the Sun. Its temples rest on a hundred columns hewn
from the quarries of Thebes. Here, as the story tells, the Phoenix is wont to store
his father’s ashes and, adoring the image of the god, his master, to entrust his
precious burden to the flames. He places on the altar that from which he is
sprung and that which remains of himself. Bright shines the wondrous threshold;
the fragrant shrine is filled with the holy smoke of the altar and the odour of
Indian incense, penetrating even as far as the Pelusiac marshes, fills the nostrils
of men, flooding them with its kindly influence and with a scent sweeter than
that of nectar perfumes the seven mouths of the dark Nile.
Happy bird, heir to thine own self! Death which proves our undoing restores thy
strength. Thine ashes give thee life and though thou perish not thine old age
dies. Thou hast beheld all that has been, hast witnessed the passing of the ages.
Thou knowest when it was that the waves of the sea rose and o’erflowed the
rocks, what year it was that Phaëthon’s error devoted to the flames. Yet did no
destruction overwhelm thee; sole survivor thou livest to see the earth subdued;
against thee the Fates gather not up their threads, powerless to do thee harm."

Sources:
○ Hesiod, Fragments - Greek Epic C8th-7th B.C.

○ Herodotus, Histories - Greek History C5th B.C.

○ Aelian, On Animals - Greek Natural History C2nd - C3rd A.D.

○ Philostratus, Life of Apollonius of Tyana - Greek Biography C2nd A.D.

○ Ovid, Metamorphoses - Latin Epic C1st BC - C1st A.D.

○ Statius, Silvae - Latin Poetry C1st A.D.

○ Claudian, Phoenix - Latin Poetry C4th A.D.

Other references not currently quoted here: Antiphron 175; Pseudo-Lactanius "Phoenix"

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