The Cult
No temple of Pḗgasos is known, and no festival or priesthood bears his name — worship of the horse himself was a thin stream. What the record holds is emblem and spring. Corinth, whose silver coinage flew his winged profile for three centuries, treated him as the civic sign rather than a cult god; his watering place Peirene was a sanctuary of its own, the spring-nymph's fountain at the city's heart. On Helikṓn the hoof-struck spring Hippokrenē belonged to the Muses, and it was they, with the nymphs, who received the poet's libation — the horse was simply the hammer. His heaven was administrative: Hesiod already stations him in Zeús' stables, bearer of the thunder. The honest summary: cities stamped him, poets toasted the springs he opened, and the sky employed him — but the altars belonged to others.


