ACHILLES AND AJAX
Legend has little to tell of the next few years of the war against Troy. The Argives were not idle, but since the Trojans husbanded their strength and seldom attacked, they turned their attention to the region surrounding Troy. In the course of time Achilles destroyed and looted twelve towns with his ships and conquered eleven on land. In a marauding expedition to Mysia he carried off Chryseis, the lovely daughter of Chryses, a priest of Apollo. When he invaded Lyrnessus he took the palace of Briseus, the king and priest of the city, who hanged himself with a rope. Briseis, his beautiful daughter, who was also called Hippodamia, fell into the hands of Achilles and he took her with him as his favorite among the captives. The island of Lesbos and Thebe in Cilicia, a city founded at the foot of Mount Placus, were also forced to yield to him.
The king of this city was Eetion, a son-in-law of Priam, since his daughter Andromache had wedded Hector, the greatest among the heroes of Troy. Seven sons, in the flower of youth, were still in their father’s palace. But Achilles stormed the high gates and slew the king with all seven of them. When Eetion’s body lay upon its bier in forbidding majesty, young Achilles Was shaken with dread and dared not strip the dead king of his arms and vaunt them as his spoils. He had the corpse burned, clad in the full glory of armor artfully wrought of shining metals, and heaped for Eetion a mighty burial mound which for many years adorned the region. It loomed high under the shadow of stately elms. But he carried off Eetion’s wife as a slave. Later he released her for a large ransom. She returned home, where an arrow launched by Artemis killed her as she sat weaving at the loom. Out of the king’s stables Achilles took Pedasus, his slender-ankled horse, which, though born and bred on earth, equalled his own immortal steeds in strength and speed and vied with them in running at the chariot. And from the armory of King Eetion he carried off splendid spoils, among them an iron discus so huge that it would have yielded enough metal to make all the field implements a peasant needed for five years.
After Achilles, the tallest and bravest of the heroes was Ajax, son of Telamon. He too did not waste his time in idle waiting but took his ships toward the Thracian Chersonesus, where Polymnestor had his palace. To this king, Priam of Troy had sent his youngest son Polydorus, whom Laothoe, a concubine, had borne him, for he wanted him reared in Thrace, safe from war. He had given gold and treasure to Polymnestor to pay for the care and upbringing of the child. But when Ajax invaded his country and besieged his citadel, the faithless barbarian used both the funds and the boy entrusted to him to buy peace from the Argives. He betrayed King Priam, heaped him with imprecations, and divided the money and grain he had received for the nurture of Polydorus among the Achaean fighters. To Ajax himself he gave the gold and treasure of his ally and finally the boy as well.
Ajax did not immediately return to the Argive fleet with his spoils but made for the coast of Phrygia. There he attacked the realm of Teuthras, slew the king, who met him at the head of his warriors, and took captive his daughter, queenly Tecmessa. Her great beauty and noble spirit commanded his esteem and won his love. He honored her as his wife and would have married her, had Argive custom permitted him to wed a barbarian.
Returning from their successful marauding expeditions, the son of Peleus and the son of Telamon arrived at the camp before Troy at the same time, their ships laden with spoils. The Danai went to the shore to meet them and broke into loud cheers. Heroes thronged around Ajax and Achilles who stood in the midst of the gathering and received the prize of victory: the olive wreath, set on their heads with joyful acclaim. After this ceremony a council was held for the distribution of the spoils which were considered common property among the Achaeans. And now the captive women were shown and all marvelled at their beauty. Achilles was given the daughter of Briseus and Ajax was confirmed in the possession of queenly Tecmessa. The son of Peleus was, moreover, permitted to keep Diomedea, the playmate of his beloved, who had refused to be parted from the friend she had grown up with in the house of Briseus. When she was brought before the heroes, she threw herself at the feet of Achilles, imploring him with tears not to part her from her young mistress. Chryseis, the daughter of Chryses, the priest, was given to Agamemnon, the leader of the entire host, as a mark of honor to his kingship, and Achilles granted her willingly. The other spoils of war—captives and provisions—were divided equally among the warriors. At the request of Odysseus and Diomedes, Ajax had the treasure of King Polymnestor unloaded from his ships. Of this also Agamemnon was awarded an ample share of silver and gold.
POLYDORUS
And now the heroes took counsel about the most precious part of their spoils, the boy Polydorus, son of the king of Troy. After a brief discussion, they decided that Odysseus and Diomedes should be sent to Priam to offer him his young son in exchange for Helen. Menelaus, Helen’s husband, was appointed a third envoy, and the three set out with young Polydorus. The Trojans admitted them to their city without demurring, for envoys were held sacred according to the laws which governed the intercourse between nations.
Priam and his sons, remote from the city in their palace on the acropolis, had not even heard what was happening below, when the envoys arrived in the market place of Troy. Surrounded by throngs of Trojans, Menelaus addressed his audience, complaining bitterly of the grave breach of hospitality Paris had committed by carrying off his most prized possession—Helen, his wife. He spoke so eloquently and with such ardor that the crowd, among them the elders and leaders of Troy, were moved by his words. They wept tears of pity for his plight and agreed that his claims were just. When Odysseus observed which way the wind was blowing, he too began to speak. “Elders and citizens of Troy,” he said, “I think you should know that the Argives are not a people to embark lightly on any enterprise, and that it has always been their custom to look for glory in all they undertake. Even after the outrage we suffered when Paris, the son of your king, carried off Helen, an Argive princess, we sent peaceful envoys to you to settle this matter in friendly fashion before we prepared to take to arms. It was only when our embassy failed that war began, and it began with an attack of your men against ours! Even now that you have felt our strength, now that cities allied or subject to you lie in ruins and you yourselves have suffered the hardship long siege brings with it, a happy issue from our quarrel is still within your power. Give up to us what was taken from us, and we shall instantly break camp, board our ships, weigh anchor, and forever leave your coast with the fleet that has already done you so much harm. Nor do we make this offer empty-handed. We are bringing your king a treasure which should be far dearer to him than the stranger your city has been forced to shelter to his disadvantage and yours. We bring Polydorus, his youngest son, whom Ajax took from King Polymnestor, and who now stands bound before you, waiting your decision and that of the king. This very day give us Helen, and we shall loose the bonds of the boy and return him to his father’s house. If you refuse, your city will be destroyed, and before that your king will have to look on what he would give his life not to see.”
When Odysseus had ended, deep silence prevailed among the Trojans. At last Antenor, aged and wise, answered: “You Argives, who were once my dear guests! All that you say we know ourselves and in our hearts we agree with you. But though we have the will to mend this matter, we lack the power. We live in a state in which the king is all-powerful. The laws of our realm, the faith we have inherited from our fathers, and the conscience of our people deter us from revolt against his commands. Only if the king summons us to council are we permitted to speak on public affairs, and when we have spoken, he is still free to do as he wishes. But that you may know what the best among our people think concerning your claim, our elders will assemble and speak their mind in your presence. This is all we can do, and even the king cannot deny us this right.”
And so it was done. Antenor called a council of the elders and the envoys attended it with him. One by one he asked the foremost among his people what they thought of high-handed Paris, and one
by one they declared his action insolent and lawless. Only Antimachus, a man full of malice and eager for battle, defended the rape of the Argive princess. Paris had bribed him with many gifts so that he might take his part whenever occasion demanded and speak against the return of Helen to her people. Now too he worked toward this end and behind the backs of the elders he counselled the Trojans to kill the three brave and wise heroes whom the Achaeans had sent as envoys. When they refused he advised them to hold prisoner Odysseus, Diomedes, and Menelaus, at least until they had yielded up their captive, Polydorus, without ransom or any talk of exchange. This counsel was also rejected, and since Antimachus would not stop mocking at the Argive heroes, even in public assembly, his fellow citizens drove him from their midst with sharp words, to show the envoys that they disapproved of his advice and his unprincipled behavior.
Angrily Antimachus hastened to the acropolis and told the king what had taken place. And now Priam and his sons held council, and noble Panthous, his trusted friend, was with them. For a long time they argued the matter, some saying one thing, some another. At last Panthous turned to Hector, the bravest and the most just and virtuous of Priam’s sons, and begged him to yield to the counsel of the best among the Trojans and surrender the cause of this war—Helen, who had brought nothing but disaster to her hosts. “Paris,” he said, “has now had many years in which to enjoy the possession he acquired so unfairly, and also to suffer for his delight. The cities which were our allies are destroyed, and their fall forewarns us of our own fate. Add to this that the Argives have your little brother in their power and that we do not know what will become of him if we refuse to give them Helen!”
Hector reddened with shame and tears welled up in his eyes when he thought of the infamous act of Paris. Nevertheless he did not speak in favor of delivering up the stolen princess. “She is one who sought protection in our house,” he answered Panthous. “We must not forget that. As such we received her. Had we thought otherwise, we should not have permitted her to cross the threshold of the palace. Not only did we let her enter, we even built her and Paris a palace of their own where they have lived in luxury and pleasure for many years, and none of you opened his mouth against it, though you knew that war was inevitable. Why should we drive her from us now?”
“I did speak out,” Panthous replied. “My conscience is clear. I told you of my father’s prophecy. I warned you. And I warn you again! Come what will, I shall faithfully help you defend the king and the city, even if you do not do as I say.” And with these words he left the council of the princes.
At Hector’s suggestion they at last came to the decision that they would not give up Helen, but would replace with gifts of equal value everything which had been carried off along with her. In her stead they would offer Menelaus one of the daughters of King Priam in wedlock—wise Cassandra or flower-like Polyxena, and with her a royal dowry. When the Argive envoys were brought before the king and faced with this proposal Menelaus grew very angry. “Things have, indeed, come to a pretty pass,” he said, “if after years of doing without the woman of my choice I must let my enemies select a wife for me! Keep your barbarian daughters and return to me her whom I wedded when I was young.”
Then up rose Aeneas, husband of Creusa and son-in-law of Priam, and harshly cried out to Prince Menelaus who had spoken with a scornful smile: “If it depended on me and on the word of all those who love Paris and hold high the honor of this ancient house of kings, you should have neither the one nor the other. The kingdom of Priam still has men who will protect it. And if the boy Polydorus, the son of his concubine, be lost to him, Priam has many other sons. Shall we encourage the Argives to carry off more women? But enough of talk! If you do not instantly leave with that fleet of yours, you shall feel the strength of the Trojans. We have countless young warriors thirsting to fight, and every day more and more great and powerful allies are joining us, even if those nearby weakened and were conquered.”
These words of Aeneas were greeted with tumultuous applause on the part of the Trojan princes, and had it not been for Hector, the envoys would have suffered rough treatment at their hands. These, ill suppressing their rage, left with Polydorus, whom King Priam had seen only from afar, and returned to their ships. When the news spread of the reception they had met with in Troy, news of the malice of Antimachus and the arrogance of Aeneas and all the sons of Priam except Hector, the Argives gathered in a riotous mob and angrily called for revenge. Without even consulting the princes, a disorderly and confused assembly resolved to visit the wrongs of Priam and his sons on luckless Polydorus, and they at once set about carrying out their verdict. The boy was taken within range of the walls of Troy and the moment King Priam and his sons appeared on the walls, called out by the great throngs and the loud clamor, the first moan of pain broke from the child’s lips. With their own eyes the Trojans were forced to witness the execution of the threat Odysseus had uttered. From all sides stones flew at the boy’s bare head and unprotected body, until, struck down by countless missiles, he died a cruel and miserable death. The Argive princes gave permission for the shattered corpse to be returned to Priam for honorable burial; soon the king’s servants, accompanied by Idaeus, a hero of Troy, came and with many tears laid the boy’s body in the wagon which was to take him to his unhappy father.
CHRYSES, APOLLO, AND THE WRATH OF ACHILLES
It was early in the tenth year of the war. Ajax had returned from various expeditions along the coast, laden with spoils. The killing of Polydorus had fanned the hatred between the two nations to greater fury, and now the gods openly took part in the conflict. Hera, Athene, Hermes, Poseidon, and Hephaestus sided with the Argives, while Ares and Aphrodite helped the Trojans, so that of this tenth and last year of the siege of Troy ten times more has been told and sung than of the nine years which went before. For it is at this point that Homer, the prince of poets, begins his tale of the wrath of Achilles and the many misfortunes which the anger of this greatest among their heroes brought upon the Argives.
The cause of Achilles’ anger was this. When their envoys returned from Troy, the Argives, mindful of the threats of the Trojans, set about preparing for decisive battle. While they were so engaged, Chryses, Apollo’s priest, whose daughter Achilles had carried off and given to Agamemnon, came into the camp holding the golden staff of peace twined with the laurel sacred to his god, and offered rich ransom for the return of his child. He made this request to the Atridae and the entire host, saying: “Sons of Atreus, heroes and men of Greece, may the gods on Olympus grant you victory over Troy and a safe homeward journey, if you give honor to Apollo the Far-Darter, whose priest I am, by returning my beloved daughter to me for the ransom I bring you.”
The host applauded his words and recommended that reverence be shown the priest and that the treasure he offered be accepted. But Agamemnon, unwilling to lose his fair prize, objected, saying: “Do not let me find you near the ships again, old man, either now or in the days to come. Your daughter is my servant and shall remain so. She will sit at the loom in my palace in Argos as long as she lives. Beware of provoking my wrath, and go while you can!”
Chryses was filled with fear and obeyed. Silently he hastened to the shore, but there he lifted his hands to the god he served and prayed to him: “Hear me, Apollo Smintheus, you who reign over Chryse, Cilia, and Tenedos! If ever I have adorned your altar to your liking and brought you offerings carefully chosen, avenge me on the Achaeans and loose your darts upon them!”
So he pleaded aloud, and Apollo heard his prayer. He slung across his shoulder his bow and quiver filled with clanging arrows and left Olympus. Sullen and threatening as night he sped toward the Argive ships and when he was near them, dart after dart whirred from his silver bow and the taut string twanged with an ominous sound. Whoever was struck by the invisible arrow died of the plague—a swift and sudden death. At first he shot only at the mules and dogs in the camp, but soon he aimed at the men as well, until one after another sank to the ground a
nd the flames of many funeral pyres flared day and night unceasingly.
For nine days the plague raged among the Argive host. On the tenth, Achilles, whom Hera, the patron goddess of the Achaeans, had so counselled, called an assembly and advised the people to ask a priest, a soothsayer, or one who unravels the meaning of dreams, what sacrifice would avert the wrath of Phoebus Apollo and turn disaster from the camp.
Then the wisest seer in the host arose, Calchas, who prophesied from the flight of birds and declared that he was ready to expound the reasons for the anger of the immortal archer, provided Achilles would protect him. The son of Peleus bade him be of good courage and Calchas spoke: “The god is not offended because of a broken vow or neglect of sacrifice. He is angry because of Agamemnon’s lack of respect for his priest, nor will he stay his hand from dealing us evil until the girl is returned to her father without ransom and sent back to Chryse with hundredfold offerings of atonement. This is the only way in which we can win back the favor of the god.”
Gods and Heroes of Ancient Greece Page 37