by Roger Green
So Achilles retired to his tents and hung up his armour and his cousin Patroclus did likewise, and so did all the host of the Myrmidons. But Agamemnon sent Chryseis back to her father, and took Briseis from Achilles with further insulting words.
Then Achilles called to the sea-nymph Thetis, his mother, and she came to him out of the waves, and he told her all that had happened and begged her aid.
‘I will go at once to Olympus,’ said Thetis, ‘and pray mighty Zeus to help us. Surely he will bring it to pass that the Trojans may gain such a victory over the Greeks that Agamemnon will be forced to humble himself before you and beg your help on his knees!’
Thetis did even as she had said, and Zeus was gracious to her, and that very night he sent a deceitful dream to Agamemnon. And that dream took the shape of old Nestor, wisest of the Greeks, whose advice Agamemnon was always ready to take.
‘Rise, King of Men,’ cried the Dream, disguised in the likeness of King Nestor, ‘I come as a messenger from Zeus himself. The Immortals have been swayed by the counsel of Queen Hera, and if you lead the Greeks in full force against Troy this day, you will take the city and level its walls with the ground… Keep this in your heart and forget not my words when you awake – for they are words of truth!’
Agamemnon woke rejoicing, called together the leaders of the Greeks and told them of his dream. They believed it also, and, arming themselves, marched out to do battle with the Trojans.
Meanwhile the news of Agamemnon's quarrel with Achilles had been brought to Troy, and the Trojans themselves decided to march out and scatter the Greeks while their most mighty warrior was sulking in his tent.
So the two armies met on the level plain outside Troy; and Paris, seized with unexpected boldness, offered to meet Menelaus in single combat.
‘If I slay you,’ he said, ‘then the Greeks must swear to return home without Helen. But if I fall, Helen shall be returned, and a great treasure besides.’
The Greeks, who were heartily sick of the war, agreed eagerly to this, and both sides swore to keep the truce and to abide by the outcome of the battle between Menelaus and Paris.
When she heard of what was about to happen, Helen came hastening to the wall above the scene of the single combat. And Priam, who was there to see it also, exclaimed at the sight of her amazing beauty:
‘Small wonder is it that Trojans and Greeks should endure long hardships and battles for such a woman – for indeed she is marvellously like to one of the Immortals in her very loveliness!’
But Helen sighed, and made answer: ‘Would that sore death had come to me before ever your son Paris led me away from happy Sparta and my dear daughter Hermione. Alas, my lord Menelaus must think me the most shameful of all women!’
Menelaus, however, was preparing to do battle for Helen as if she had been as perfect a bride as Alcestis was to Admetus; and Paris was doing the same, as if she had been his lawfully wedded wife, and as though there were no deserted wood-nymph Oenone pining in tears on lonely Ida.
First each of the heroes set the greaves upon his legs, beautifully fashioned and fastened with silver ankle-clasps; next upon his chest each fastened the moulded corselet of beaten bronze; and over his shoulder cast the baldric which held his brazen sword with the silver-studded handle. And on his mighty head each set a cunningly wrought helmet with a great crest of horse-hair that nodded terribly, and took in his hand a strong ashen spear with a point of bronze.
So, when they had armed themselves, they stood forth between the ranks of Trojans and Greeks, who sat in their long lines to watch the battle.
First Paris hurled his spear and smote Menelaus on the shield, but the point was turned and did not pierce it. Then Menelaus, uttering a prayer to Zeus, threw his weapon. It smote the round shield of Paris, and passed through it – so mightily did he cast in his anger. It pierced the wrought breast-plate also, and Paris would have died then and there had he not managed to twist away so that the blade did but graze his side.
Menelaus flung down his shield with a cry of triumph, and leaping forward seized Paris by his horse-hair crest, and swinging him round, dragged him by the head towards the Grecian lines. And Paris would have been strangled like Cycnus by the straps of his own helmet, if Aphrodite had not come to his aid. But she snapped the straps suddenly, so that Menelaus rolled over backwards, holding the empty helmet in his hands, and when he leapt to his feet – Paris was gone. For Paris was no longer the brave young herdsman of Ida: rather than feats of strength and daring, he preferred to dally away the hours with his unwilling bride. Now, shielded by Aphrodite, he fled swiftly back to Troy, and hid himself in Helen's bower.
But Menelaus, failing to find him, marched proudly up and down between the armies, shouting:
‘Harken to me, Trojans and Greeks! Paris has fled, and the victory is mine! Therefore Helen is mine! Give her back to me, and we will sail away and trouble Troy no more!’
All the Greeks and Trojans agreed with this, and a cry of joy went up from either side, for the war was over, and they could go home in peace!
CHAPTER 6
THE ADVENTURE OF RHESUS
*
What eyes, what ears hath sweet Andromache,
Save for her Hector's form and step; as tear
On tear made salt the warm last kiss he gave?
He goes. Cassandra's words beat heavily
Like crows above his crest, and at his ear
Ring hollow in the shield that shall not save.
ROSSETTI
Cassandra
6
This would indeed have been the end of the War, had it not been for the treachery of the Trojan Pandarus. For when he saw Menelaus striding boastfully up and down and taunting Paris for running away, he fitted a sharp arrow to his polished bow of ibex horn, and loosed a shaft which wounded Menelaus in the side, just where he had wounded Paris with his spear.
At this cries of rage and scorn rose from the Greeks: ‘Now we will smite the Trojans!’ they cried. ‘For they have broken the truce, and Zeus will surely be on our side!’
They armed in haste, and the Trojans did the same, and both sides rushed together and engaged in the hottest battle there had been since the very beginning when the Greeks first landed on Trojan soil and brave Protesilaus was slain. The noise of shield meeting shield was like the roar of a mountain torrent at mid-winter; and when a man fell he was stripped of his armour and trodden underfoot.
Many deeds were done in that battle of which the minstrels sang in after days. They told how Menelaus slew fierce Scamandrius, the mighty hunter; how Diomedes fought with Aeneas and would have slain him had not Aphrodite come to her son's aid, and suffered a wound herself, Immortal though she was. They told also of the mighty doings of Odysseus who ranged through the cowering Trojans like a wolf in a sheep-fold.
While this great battle was raging, and the Trojans were getting the worst of it, their great champion Hector was in Troy, searching angrily for Paris. He found him at last in Helen's room, and she was weeping and calling him a coward:
‘Would that the winds had wafted me away, and that the waves had drowned me before ever I came to Troy with such a one as you!’ she cried.
Paris hung his head, and made excuses, and at last consented to re-arm and go down into the battle.
Then, leaving his cowardly brother reluctantly buckling on his armour, Hector strode away to his own house; and there he found his beloved wife Andromache, nursing their little golden-haired son Astyanax, beautiful as a star.
‘My dear lord,’ said Andromache, weeping softly, ‘do not go out to battle this day, for I fear greatly lest you should be slain. My father was killed by Achilles in the beginning of this dreadful war, and if you fall, Troy will fall also. So do not go to the battle, but stay here with us; for if Troy falls, I shall be sold into slavery – and our son they will surely slay, child though he be, lest he grow up to avenge your death upon their children.’
But Hector made answer: ‘Indeed I think of
all these things, dearest wife, but if I held back from the battle I would never again be able to hold up my head before the men and women of Troy. I fear that Troy is indeed doomed, and that it will soon be laid low and its people slain or sold into slavery. But let me fall honourably in battle – for death is better than shame, and how could I endure to see you led away captive.’
So spoke Hector, and stretched out his arms to Astyanax. But the child shrank away crying, afraid of the great nodding crest on his father's helmet. Then Hector laughed, and Andromache also, and he took off his helmet and laid it on the ground, and lifted the child and dandled him in his arms, saying:
‘Now I pray to Zeus, and to all the Immortals, that my son may grow up to be as valiant as I am, and a mighty king of Troy. May people say, when they see him return victorious from battle, “Far greater is he than ever his father was!” And may he live long to gladden your heart when I am no more.’
So saying he placed the child in its mother's arms, and kissed and comforted her: ‘Dearest, do not sorrow over much,’ he said, ‘no man may escape his fate, be he coward or hero.’
Then he went swiftly to the battle, while Andromache wept and would not be comforted;
for she was certain that they had said their last farewell.
Down on the battle field Hector rallied the Trojan ranks with such good effect that presently it was the Greeks who were retreating. Then he cried aloud a challenge:
‘Come forth and do battle with me, man to man, who ever is bravest and most daring among the Greeks! I am not Paris, but Hector – and Hector will not run away!’
This challenge was meant for Achilles who was still sulking in his tent, but he would not come, even to show his strength against Hector. But many of the Greek leaders sprang forward as volunteers – Agamemnon among them, and Diomedes, Ajax and Odysseus, and more besides. Then at Nestor's suggestion they cast lots in a helmet, and that of Ajax first fell to the ground.
So Ajax stepped forward in his flashing bronze, the biggest man among all the Greeks, looking as fierce and as mighty as Ares the Immortal Warlord himself.
‘Now, Hector!’ cried he exultantly. ‘Come and fight me if you dare! I'll show you what men there are among the Greeks, even though Achilles is not with us today.’
The two champions attacked each other with spear and sword, and many were the blows dealt and guarded. But neither could win the advantage, and soon darkness began to fall, and the heralds cried a truce. As night came on, the warriors drew apart, and exchanged gifts – one worthy foeman with another.
That night the Greeks laboured without ceasing and made a wall and a ditch to protect themselves and the ships from the Trojans. In the morning the battle was resumed with even greater fury, and the Greeks were driven back behind their new wall.
As for the Trojans, they camped out in the plain and did not bother to return for safety to their city, but sat about their camp-fires singing and rejoicing in their victory, feeling certain that next day they would conquer the Greeks and burn all their ships. But in the Grecian camp the leaders sat in council together with long faces and troubled hearts.
And first Agamemnon spoke, saying:
‘My friends, leaders and captains of the host, surely Zeus has smitten us this day, and there can be only one meaning in what he has done, that we shall never conquer Troy. Therefore let us flee swiftly while yet the ships remain to us, and return home to our own land.’
‘Go if you like, coward king!’ cried Diomedes at this. ‘But I at least will stay and fight it out!’
The other kings applauded him, and Nestor advised that first of all a good watch should be kept along the wall lest the Trojans planned a night attack. So Diomedes, with five hundred men under Nestor's son Thrasymedes went to see to this important task, while Nestor went on:
‘Most noble Agamemnon, king of men, all this woe comes of your folly in robbing Achilles of the girl Briseis. You know well that without him we cannot conquer Hector nor take Troy. Therefore my counsel is that you swallow your pride and send to Achilles offering him back the girl, with many fair gifts, if only he will pardon the insult which you did him and return to the war.’
‘Wise Nestor,’ answered Agamemnon, ‘I was indeed a fool, and I readily admit my folly. I will send Odysseus and brave Ajax to Achilles with such a message as you suggest; and they must promise him Briseis, and twenty Trojan maidens, besides a ship load of gold and bronze. If these will not suffice, he shall have his choice of one of my daughters to be his wife, when we return from conquered Troy.’
Off went the two kings on this errand, but even the persuasive speech of Odysseus could not move Achilles, who only smiled grimly and answered:
‘My advice is for us all to return speedily to Greece. You cannot conquer Troy without my aid – and I am minded to withhold that aid, and so save the life which otherwise I am fated to lose. I sail home in the morning.’
When Agamemnon heard this, he wept and tore his hair. But Nestor strove to encourage him, Menelaus saying:
‘We must prepare for tomorrow's battle. Is there anyone who will dare to go secretly among the Trojans and spy out their camp – and perhaps overhear their counsel?’
‘That will I!’ cried Odysseus, and Diomedes volunteering to go with him, the two set out, wearing leather caps and no armour, but taking their swords.
Meanwhile the Trojans had hit upon the same idea, and a young man named Dolon had volunteered to spy for them if Priam would promise him the magic horses of Achilles – Poseidon's wedding-present to Peleus and Thetis – as a reward.
This was agreed and he went out into the night, wearing a grey wolf skin over his shoulders and carrying his bow in his hand.
When Odysseus and Diomedes saw him coming, they lay down quickly among the dead, and pretended to be corpses also. But as soon as he had passed, they sprang up and seized hold of him from behind.
‘Do not kill me!’ begged Dolon, green with fear. ‘My father is very rich, and will pay a vast ransom for my life. Moreover, I will give you news of the Trojans – anything, if only you will spare me!’
‘Speak swiftly!’ said Odysseus, and the wretched youth began to tell them about the Trojans' plans for the morrow.
‘But what you should do,’ he babbled, ‘is to steal away the horses of King Rhesus. He arrived this evening from Thrace with all his men, and there is a prophecy that Troy will never fall if once his wonderful white horses have entered the city. Now send me, a prisoner to the ships, and if I have spoken truly, set me free and my father will pay ransom.’
‘Not so,’ answered Diomedes, ‘a spy and a traitor is not fit to live!’ And with that he smote off the wretched Dolon's head.
Then he and Odysseus stole on through the darkness, and soon came to the place where the newly arrived Thracians were camped. Here they slew several men in their sleep, including the unfortunate King Rhesus himself. Then they loosed the horses, tied them together, and Diomedes drove them carefully between the sleeping men, and away towards the Greek camp.
But presently a Thracian woke suddenly, and when he saw dead men lie bleeding on the ground and the white horses gone, he cried aloud, and his comrades leapt to their feet, snatching up their swords.
Then Diomedes leapt upon the back of the nearest horse and galloped away until he came to the tent of Agamemnon. But Odysseus remained among the Thracians, in deadly peril, and indeed he was soon surrounded by them.
‘Here's the man who killed our king!’ shouted a Thracian captain.
‘Fool!’ cried Odysseus in a voice of authority. ‘You'll suffer for this if you are not careful!’
‘Then give the watchword,’ persisted the Captain, ‘or I'll drive my spear into you!’
‘The watchword is “Phoebus”,’ answered Odysseus quietly, having had the foresight to learn it from Dolon.
‘Right!’ cried the Captain, letting go of him. ‘Do you know which way the murderer went?’
‘Of course I do,’ answered Odysseus angr
ily, ‘I was pursuing him when you were fool enough to stop me! Come along with me!’
With that he set off at his best speed and was soon back in the Greek camp, while the Thracians were receiving a warm welcome from Thrasymedes and his five hundred guards on the wall.
CHAPTER 7
THE DEATH OF HECTOR
*
But one that was my comfort and my joy,
Hector, the very pride and prop of Troy,
One that the bulwark of his brethren was,
Him hast thou slain, and I am left alone!
HOMER
The Iliad (Translated by Andrew Lang)
7
Dawning day brought a mass attack from the Trojans, furious at the death of King Rhesus and the theft of his white horses. The Greeks, encouraged by the exploits of Diomedes and Odysseus, met them fiercely, led by Ajax; and one of the greatest battles of the Trojan War began.
At first the Greeks had the better of it, as Hector was not fighting in the Trojan vanguard but marshalling his troops from behind. Agamemnon, putting from him his usual cowardice, led his army to such good effect that the Trojans at last broke and fled back towards their city. But near the gates Hector rallied them, and Agamemnon was wounded by the spear of a Thracian captain, and carried back to the ships in his chariot. Then Hector charged at the head of the Trojans, and the Greeks fled before him. Near the encampment Diomedes and Odysseus turned at bay, and held off the pursuers while the Greeks re-formed their ranks.
Then Hector led another charge, but Diomedes took good aim with his mighty spear and struck him on the helmet. The spear did not pierce it, but so heavy was the blow that Hector fell stunned to the earth, and was carried out of the battle in his chariot.
Diomedes was shot through the foot by Paris shortly after, so he was also out of the battle, leaving Odysseus to rally the front ranks. Long he fought there and slew many Trojans, but at last a spear pierced his shield and bit deep into his side. With a cry he plucked it out and with it slew the man who had wounded him: then, as he sank to the ground he called aloud to Ajax and Menelaus, who rushed forward to the rescue. Ajax with his great shield protected Odysseus while he climbed into a chariot, and then Menelaus drove him back to the ships to have his wound dressed.