by Homer
‘We ought not to advance and fight the enemy around his ships. I know exactly what will happen, if that bird of omen does not lie. Just as we were going to move forward, an eagle flew high across the front of the army from right to left with a (220) blood-red snake in its talons. The snake was alive, and the bird dropped it before its reached its nest – it failed to get it home and give it to its young. In the same way, even if by a great effort we succeed in breaking down the Greek gate and wall and the enemy give way, we will not be able to make an orderly withdrawal from the ships over the same ground. We will have to leave many Trojans behind, and the Greeks, fighting in defence of their ships, will slaughter them. That is how a prophet who really understood such omens and had the army’s confidence would interpret this sign.’
(230) Hector of the flashing helmet gave him a black look and said:
Hector rejects interpretation of omen
‘Polydamas, that was an unusually ill-disposed speech of yours. You know you could have thought of something better. But if you really do mean what you say, then the gods themselves must have scrambled your brains. Loud-thundering Zeus himself made and confirmed to me certain promises. These you tell me to forget; and instead you would have me base my actions on long-winged birds, who do not interest me at all. In fact I don’t care whether they fly to the right towards the morning sun or to the left into (240) the western gloom. Let’s pin our faith in the will of great Zeus, who governs all mankind and the gods as well.
‘Fight for your country – that is the best and only omen. But why should you fear war and its ravages? Even if the rest of us are slaughtered wholesale by the Greek ships, you need have no fear for your own safety – you aren’t the man to stand and fight it out. That said, if you personally shrink from the fighting or (250) dissuade any of the others from battle, you will lose your life – and it will be my spear that ends it.’
With these words Hector led off, and his men came after him with a mighty roar. From the mountains of Ida Zeus who delights in thunder unleashed a hurricane that raised the dust and blew it straight at the ships, bewildering the Greeks and glorifying Hector and the Trojans.
Trusting in this sign of divine favour and their own strength, they now made determined efforts to breach the great Greek wall, tearing away the parapets, pulling down the battlements (260) and levering up the projecting buttresses that the Greeks had sunk into the ground outside to support the wall. By undermining these they hoped to bring down the wall itself. But the Greeks would not give way. They closed up gaps in the battlements with their oxhide shields and from there pelted the enemy as they came up beneath the wall.
The Ajaxes hearten Greek defenders
The two Ajaxes ranged everywhere along the walls, issuing orders and putting fresh heart into their men. Some they encouraged but others, who had abandoned all resistance, they harshly rebuked: ‘Friends, it takes all sorts to make an army – the good, the (270) bad and the indifferent – and today there is work for every man of you. But you know this well enough yourselves. You have your leaders’ orders: no one must turn back to the ships. Forward instead, straight at the enemy, urging each other on and trusting that Olympian Zeus, lord of the lightning-flash, will let us counter this attack and chase the enemy back to their town.’
So the two Ajaxes, cheering the troops on, inspired the Greeks for battle.
As snowflakes fall thick and fast on a winter day when Zeus (280) wise in counsel starts the snow falling and shows his missiles to men: he puts the winds to sleep, and it snows without ceasing till he has covered the high mountain tops and the bold headlands of the coast and the clover meadows and the farmers’ fields; till even the shores and inlets of the grey sea are under snow, and the waves cannot resist it as they come rolling in; everything is blanketed by the blizzard sent by Zeus – so the stones flew thick and fast in both directions as the Greeks pelted the Trojans and the Trojans the Greeks. The whole length of the wall thundered to volleys of rocks.
(290) But even then glorious Hector and his Trojans would not have broken down the gate in the wall and the long bar, if Zeus wise in counsel had not launched his son Sarpedon against the Greeks, like a lion falling on cattle. Sarpedon held his fine round shield in front of him – made of beaten bronze, hammered out by the smith and backed with hide after hide, stitched together with gold wire running right round it. With this in front of him and brandishing two spears, Sarpedon set out like a mountain (300) lion who has long been in need of meat; impelled by his proud heart, he even assaults a strongly protected farmstead to make an attempt on the sheep; even if he finds herdsmen on the spot guarding the sheep with a ring of dogs and spears, he has no mind to be chased away without making an attempt on the fold, and either leaps in and seizes a sheep, or is himself struck down in the front ranks by a spear from a quick hand – so godlike Sarpedon’s courage impelled him to assault the wall and break through the battlements. At once he addressed Glaucus, Hippolochus’ son:
Sarpedon on heroism
(310) ‘Glaucus, why are we most of all singled out for honour at home in Lycia, with pride of place, the choicest meat and never empty cups? Why do they all look up to us as gods? And why do we cultivate a great estate on the banks of the River Xanthus, with lovely orchards and splendid fields of wheat? All this now obliges us to take our places in the front ranks of the Lycians and fling ourselves into the flames of battle. Only then will our Lycian men-at-arms say of us: ‘‘Well! These are no dishonourable lords of Lycia that rule over (320) us and eat fat sheep and drink the best sweet wine: they are indomitable and fight in the forefront of the Lycians.’’
‘My friend, if, after living through this war, we could be sure of becoming ageless and immortal, I should not fight in the front line nor send you out into the battle where men win glory. But the world is not like that. A thousand demons of death hover over us, and nobody can escape or avoid them. So in we go, whether we yield the victory to some other man, or he to us.’
So he spoke, and Glaucus did not turn back or disagree, and (330) the two went forward at the head of a great Lycian force.
Sarpedon and Glaucus attack the wall
When he saw them coming, Menestheus shuddered: it was against his sector of the Greek ramparts that the menace was directed. Looking along the wall for some commander who could save his contingent from disaster, he saw the two Ajaxes, those gluttons for battle, standing quite near, along with Teucer who had just come from his hut. But it was impossible to make himself heard by shouting. The noise was tremendous and the very sky was assaulted by the din as shields, crested helmets and gates were struck again (340) and again (the gates had all been closed by now and the Trojans were crowding round trying to break them down and force their way in) . At once Menestheus sent the herald Thoo¨tes with a message to Ajax son of Telamon:
‘Quick, godlike Thoo¨tes, run and call Ajax, or rather both Ajaxes. That would be best of all. Death is staring us in the face here. The Lycian leaders have thrown in an overwhelming force and so far they’ve proved powerful opposition in the heat of battle. But if our men have a battle on their hands over there too, let’s at least have brave Ajax son of Telamon, and tell him (350) to bring Teucer the expert bowman with him.’
So he spoke, and the herald heard, complied and set off at a run along the Greek wall. When he reached the two Ajaxes, he went up and spoke to them at once:
The two Ajaxes defend
‘You Ajaxes, leaders of the bronze-armoured Greeks, Menestheus tells you to come over, if only for a little while, and lend him a hand in his difficulties, preferably both of you. That would be best of all. Death is staring us in the face there. The Lycian leaders have thrown in
(360) an overwhelming force and so far they’ve proved powerful opposition in the heat of the battle. But if you have a battle on your hands over here too, at least let brave Ajax son of Telamon come, and bring Teucer the expert bowman with him.’
So he spoke, and great Ajax son of Telamon complied. H
e then spoke to Ajax son of Oïleus with winged words:
‘Ajax, you and powerful Lycomedes stay here and tell the Greeks to keep the enemy engaged, while I go and deal with the situation over there. I’ll soon be back when I have shored up their defence.’
(370) With these words Ajax son of Telamon set off and his half-brother Teucer went with him, with Pandion carrying Teucer’s curved bow. They went along behind the wall and so reached the sector commanded by great-hearted Menestheus, where the pressure was intense. Here the mighty Lycian rulers and leaders were climbing the battlements like a dark hurricane. They hurled themselves at the enemy, and the tumult of battle rose.
Epicles and Alcmaon killed; Glaucus wounded
Ajax son of Telamon was the first to kill his man, a comrade (380) of Sarpedon’s, great-hearted Epicles. He hit him with a jagged lump of rock that he picked up inside the wall from on top of a heap beside a battlement. Even the strongest young man of our generation would have found it difficult to lift with both hands, but Ajax heaved it above his head and flung it, crushing the helmet with its four plates and smashing the man’s skull to pieces. Epicles dropped like a diver from the high tower and the spirit left his bones.
Meanwhile Teucer hit powerful Glaucus son of Hippolochus with an arrow as he charged at the high wall. Teucer saw his arm exposed and hit it, ending Glaucus’ interest in the fight. (390) Glaucus at once jumped unobtrusively down from the wall, so that the Greeks might not see he was wounded and gloat over him.
Sarpedon was horrified when he realized that Glaucus was gone. But it did not diminish his own will to fight. He stabbed at Alcmaon with his spear, hit him and dragged the weapon out. The man came with it, falling headlong from the wall, and his ornate bronze armour clattered about him.
The Ajaxes hold off Sarpedon
Then Sarpedon got his mighty hands on the battlement. He gave a pull, and a whole length of the breastwork came away, exposing the top of the wall. He had made a breach for the hordes.
(400) Ajax and Teucer now took him on together. Teucer hit him with an arrow on the gleaming shoulder-strap that ran across his chest and supported his man-covering shield. And though Zeus saved Sarpedon from destruction, not wishing that his son should meet his doom by the sterns of the ships, Ajax charged in and stabbed at his shield. The weapon failed to penetrate, but it stopped Sarpedon in his tracks, and he withdrew a little from the battlements. Even so he did not retreat completely. He was still filled with hopes of glory and, wheeling round, he shouted to his godlike Lycians:
‘Lycians, where is that old fighting spirit of yours? Strong as (410) I am, I can hardly breach the wall on my own and open up our way to the ships. Rally round! The more the better!’
So he spoke, and the Lycians, fearing their leader’s disapproval, attacked in greater numbers than ever around their leader. But the Greeks on their side reinforced the contingents behind the wall, and the struggle that ensued was desperate for both sides. The mighty Lycians could not break down the Greek wall and open up a way to the ships, nor were the Greek (420) spearmen able to force back the Lycians once they had gained a foothold by the wall.
As two men quarrel over the boundary-markers in a common field, each with measuring-sticks in their hands, fighting for their fair share in a narrow strip of ground: that was the distance they were kept apart by the battlements. Over the battlements, Trojans and Greeks hacked at each from behind their oxhide shields, great and small, that protected their chests. Many a warrior’s flesh felt the stab of the sharp bronze spear when they swung round and bared their backs, or when they were pierced (430) through the shield itself. All along, the towers and battlements were drenched with blood from both sides, Trojan and Greek.
And yet the Trojans were unable to set their enemies on the run. The Greeks held on, like a careful wool-worker who holds up her scales to balance the wool against the weights and check the accuracy of the meagre pittance she is earning for her children. The struggle was as tight and even as that, till the moment when Zeus gave the upper hand to Hector son of Priam, who was the first to leap inside the Greek wall. Hector sent his voice ringing out to the whole Trojan army:
(450) ’On with you, horse-taming Trojans! Smash the Greek wall and fire the ships!’
So he spoke, and there was no Trojan ear that did not catch his stirring call. Massing together, they charged at the wall and began to scale the parapet with sharp spears in their hands. But Hector seized and brought along a rock that was lying in front of the gate. Broad at the base and coming to a point, it would have taxed the strength of the two best men in any town of the present generation to lever it up from the ground on to a waggon. (450) But Hector handled it effortlessly on his own. Zeus, son of sickle-wielding Cronus, had made it light for him.
Hector smashes Greek gate
As a shepherd easily picks up a ram’s fleece in one hand, carries it off and scarcely feels the weight, so Hector lifted up the rock and brought it towards the planking that made up the high, strong, well-fitted double gates, which were held on the inside by two beams sliding in from either gate-post, locked by a single bolt. Hector went right up to them and bracing himself, legs well apart for maximum power, hurled the rock, hit the doors full in the middle and smashed it out of its pivots on either side. The force of the throw (460) propelled the rock through, and there was a great roar from the gate as the planks were smashed to splinters by the impact of the stone and the bars gave way.
In leapt glorious Hector, face dark as nightfall. He held two spears in his hands and the bronze of his body-armour gleamed with a baleful light. None but a god could have met and held him as he sprang through that gate. And now, with fire flashing from his eyes, he wheeled round to the crowd behind him and called on the Trojans to cross the wall. His men responded to his summons. Some swarmed over the wall; others poured in (470) through the gate itself. The panic-stricken Greeks fled back to their hollow ships, and all hell broke loose.
13
THE BATTLE AT THE SHIPS
1–9: ZEUS, confident that no god will interfere in the battle, looks elsewhere (cf. 8.10) .
10–205: POSEIDON takes advantage. He fills the two Ajaxes with renewed vigour and rallies the rest of the Greeks. Ajax drives off Hector.
206–539: POSEIDON encourages Idomeneus to take the lead. Ido- meneus meets Meriones: they exchange views on the meaning of bravery and make for the battle. Idomeneus enjoys success, and Deiphobus fights back.
540–672: General fighting ensues.
673–837: Hector finds many Trojans dead or wounded but leads the Trojans back to the attack. Ajax taunts Hector who, despite an omen, replies in kind. The Trojans charge, and general fighting breaks out.
When Zeus had brought Hector and the Trojans up to the Greek ships, he left both sides there to endure the unending struggle and tears and turned his shining eyes away into the distance, where he concentrated his gaze on the lands of the horse-breeding Thracians, the Mysians who fight hand to hand, the lordly Hippemolgi who drink mares’ milk and the Abii, the most civilized of men on earth. Not another glance of his bright eyes did he give to Troy. He did not expect that any of the immortals would come down to help either the Trojans or the Greeks.
(10) None of this had escaped the watchful eye of the earthshaker lord Poseidon. He too had sat down high on the topmost peak of wooded Samothrace and was watching the battle spellbound. (POSEIDON helps the Greeks) From here the whole of Mount Ida, as well as Priam’s town and the ships of the Greeks, could be seen. Sitting there after he had risen from the sea, he pitied the Greeks in their hour of defeat and was enraged with Zeus.
So now he strode at speed down the rocky slope. The high hills and forests shook under the immortal feet of the descending (20) god. He took three strides and with the fourth reached Aegae, his goal, where his impressive palace built of gleaming gold stands under the depths of the waters, and will stand for ever. There he harnessed to his chariot his two swift horses with their hooves of bronze and fl
owing manes of gold. He dressed himself in gold, picked up his splendid golden whip, mounted his chariot and drove out across the waves. The dolphins did not fail to recognize their master. On every side, they emerged from their caves and gambolled at his coming. The sea made way for (30) him in its delight, the chariot flew along and the bronze axle remained dry below as his bounding horses carried him towards the Greek ships.
Midway between Tenedos and rugged Imbros there is a large cavern down in the deep sea. Here Poseidon the earthshaker unyoked and left his horses. He put ambrosial fodder down beside them and tied their legs with golden hobbles which they could neither break nor shake off, to make sure they stayed there till their master’s return. Then he made his way to the Greek camp.
(40) Here, like a high wind or a conflagration, the massed Trojans were sweeping on with implacable determination in the wake of Hector son of Priam, shouting and yelling as one. They were now hopeful of capturing the ships and killing all the best of the Greeks beside them. But at this moment Poseidon, the earth-shaker who encircles the world, emerged from the depths of the sea to put fresh heart into the Greeks. Borrowing the form and tireless voice of Calchas, he first addressed the two Ajaxes, both already intent on combat:
POSEIDON inspires the Ajaxes
‘Ajaxes, you two can save the Greek army, if you fight with your old courage and entertain no cowardly thoughts of panic. (50) The Trojans have climbed the great wall in force, but for all their invincible tenacity, I have no fears for the rest of the front where the bronze-armoured Greeks will hold them all in check. It is here I dread disaster, where that rabid dog Hector, who boasts that his father was almighty Zeus, is leading their advance like a raging fire. If some god could only make you see that this is the place for you two to stand fast and rally the rest, you could still drive him off from your ships, for all his fury and the encouragement he gets from Olympian Zeus himself.’