CHAPTER XXVII.
The Trojan War
Minerva was the goddess of wisdom, but on one occasion she did a
very foolish thing; she entered into competition with Juno and
Venus for the prize of beauty. It happened thus: At the nuptials
of Peleus and Thetis all the gods were invited with the
exception of Eris, or Discord. Enraged at her exclusion, the
goddess threw a golden apple among the guests, with the
inscription, "For the fairest." Thereupon
Juno,
Venus, and
Minerva each claimed the apple.
Jupiter, not willing to decide
in so delicate a matter, sent the goddesses to Mount Ida, where
the beautiful shepherd Paris was tending his flocks, and to him
was committed the decision. The goddesses accordingly appeared
before him. Juno promised him power and riches, Minerva glory
and renown in war, and Venus the fairest of women for his wife,
each attempting to bias his decision in her own favour. Paris
decided in favour of Venus and gave her the golden apple, thus
making the two other goddesses his enemies. Under the protection
of Venus, Paris sailed to Greece, and was hospitably received by
Menelaus, king of Sparta. Now
Helen, the wife of Menelaus, was
the very woman whom Venus had destined for Paris, the fairest of
her sex. She had been sought as a bride by numerous suitors, and
before her decision was made known, they all, at the suggestion
of
Ulyssess, one of their number, took an oath that they would
defend her from all injury and avenge her cause if necessary.
She chose Menelaus, and was living with him happily when
Paris
became their guest. Paris, aided by Venus, persuaded her to
elope with him, and carried her to Troy, whence arose the famous
Trojan war, the theme of the greatest poems of antiquity, those
of Homer and Virgil.
Menelaus called upon his brother chieftains of Greece to
fulfil their pledge, and join him in his efforts to recover his
wife. They generally came forward, but Ulysses, who had married
Penelope, and was very happy in his wife and child, had no
disposition to embark in such a troublesome affair. He therefore
hung back and Palamedes was sent to urge him. When Palamedes
arrived at Ithaca Ulysses pretended to be mad. He yoked an ass
and an ox together to the plough and began to sow salt.
Palamedes, to try him, placed the infant Telemachus before the
plough, whereupon the father turned the plough aside, showing
plainly that he was no madman, and after that could no longer
refuse to fulfil his promise. Being now himself gained for the
undertaking, he lent his aid to bring in other reluctant chiefs,
especially Achilles. This hero was the son of that Thetis at
whose marriage the apple of Discord had been thrown among the
goddesses. Thetis was herself one of the immortals, a sea-nymph,
and knowing that her son was fated to perish before Troy if he
went on the expedition, she endeavoured to prevent his going.
She sent him away to the court of King Lycomedes, and induced
him to conceal himself in the disguise of a maiden among the
daughters of the king. Ulysses, hearing he was there, went
disguised as a merchant to the palace and offered for sale
female ornaments, among which he had placed some arms. While the
king's daughters were engrossed with the other contents of the
merchant's pack, Achilles handled the weapons and thereby
betrayed himself to the keen eye of Ulysses, who found no great
difficulty in persuading him to disregard his mother's prudent
counsels and join his countrymen in the war.
Priam was king of Troy, and Paris, the shepherd and seducer
of Helen, was his son. Paris had been brought up in obscurity,
because there were certain ominous forebodings connected with
him from his infancy that he would be the ruin of the state.
These forebodings seemed at length likely to be realized, for
the Grecian armament now in preparation was the greatest that
had ever been fitted out.
Agamemnon, king of Mycenae, and
brother of the injured Menelaus, was chosen commander-in-chief.
Achilles was their most illustrious warrior. After him ranked
Ajax, gigantic in size and of great courage, but dull of
intellect; Diomede, second only to
Achilles in all the qualities
of a hero; Ulysses, famous for his sagacity; and Nestor, the
oldest of the Grecian chiefs, and one to whom they all looked up
for counsel. But Troy was no feeble enemy. Priam, the king, was
now old, but he had been a wise prince and had strengthened his
state by good government at home and numerous alliances with his
neighbours. But the principal stay and support of his throne was
his own Hector, one of the noblest characters painted by heathen
antiquity. He felt, from the first, a presentiment of the fall
of his country, but still persevered in his heroic resistance,
yet by no means justified the wrong which brought this danger
upon her. He was united in marriage with Andromache, and as a
husband and father his character was not less admirable than as
a warrior. The principal leaders on the side of the Trojans,
besides Hector, were AEneas and Deiphobus, Glaucus and Sarpedon.
After two years of preparation the Greek fleet and army
assembled in the port of Aulis in Boeotia. Here Agamemnon in
hunting killed a stag which was sacred to
Diana, and the goddess
in return visited the army with pestilence, and produced a calm
which prevented the ships from leaving the port. Calchas, the
soothsayer, thereupon announced that the wrath of the virgin
goddess could only be appeased by the sacrifice of a virgin on
her altar, and that none other but the daughter of the offender
would be acceptable. Agamemnon, however reluctant, yielded his
consent, and the maiden Iphigenia was sent for under the
pretence that she was to be married to Achilles. When she was
about to be sacrificed the goddess relented and snatched her
away, leaving a hind in her place, and Iphigenia, enveloped in a
cloud, was carried to Tauris, where Diana made her priestess of
her temple.
Tennyson, in his "Dream of Fair Women," makes Iphigenia thus
describe her feelings at the moment of sacrifice:
"I was cut off from hope in that sad place,
Which yet to name my spirit loathes and fears;
My father held his hand upon his face;
I, blinded by my tears,
"Still strove to speak; my voice was thick with sighs,
As in a dream. Dimly I could descry
The stern black-bearded kings, with wolfish eyes,
Waiting to see me die.
"The tall masts quivered as they lay afloat,
The temples and the people and the shore;
One drew a shark knife through my tender throat
Slowly,- and- nothing more."
The wind now proving fair the fleet made sail and brought the
forces to the coast of Troy. The Trojans came to oppose their
landing, and at the first onset Protesilaus fell by the hand of
Hector. Protesilaus had left at home his wife, Laodamia, who was
most tenderly attached to him. When the news of his death
reached her she implored the gods to be allowed to converse with
him only three hours. The request was granted.
Mercury led
Protesilaus back to the upper world, and when he died a second
time Laodamia died with him. There was a story that the nymphs
planted elm trees round his grave which grew very well till they
were high enough to command a view of Troy, and then withered
away, while fresh branches sprang from the roots.
Wordsworth has taken the story of Protesilaus and Laodamia
for the subject of a poem. It seems the oracle had declared that
victory should be the lot of that party from which should fall
the first victim to the war. The poet represents Protesilaus, on
his brief return to earth, as relating to Laodamia the story of
his fate:
"'The wished-for wind was given; I then revolved
The oracle, upon the silent sea;
And if no worthier led the way, resolved
That of a thousand vessels mine should be
The foremost prow impressing to the strand,-
Mine the first blood that tinged the Trojan sand.
"'Yet bitter, ofttimes bitter was the pang
When of thy loss I thought, beloved wife!
On thee too fondly did my memory hang,
And on the joys we shared in mortal life,
The paths which we had trod,- these fountains, flowers;
My new planned cities and unfinished towers.
"'But should suspense permit the foe to cry,
"Behold they tremble! haughty their array,
Yet of their number no one dares to die?"
In soul I swept the indignity away:
Old frailties then recurred: but lofty thought
In act embodied my deliverance wrought.'
. . . . . . .
"...upon the side
Of Hellespont (such faith was entertained)
A knot of spiry trees for ages grew
From out the tomb of him for whom she died;
And ever when such stature they had gained
That Ilium's walls were subject to their view,
The trees' tall summits withered at the sight,
A constant interchange of growth and blight!"
"THE ILIAD".
Jacques-Lois
David Achilles and Agamemnon.
The war continued without decisive results for nine years.
Then an event occurred which seemed likely to be fatal to the
cause of the Greeks, and that was a quarrel between
Achilles and
Agamemnon. It is at this point that the great poem of Homer,
"The Iliad," begins. The Greeks, though unsuccessful against
Troy, had taken the neighbouring and allied cities, and in the
division of the spoil a female captive, by name Chryseis,
daughter of Chryses, priest of
Apollo, had fallen to the share
of Agamemnon. Chryses came bearing the sacred emblems of his
office, and begged the release of his daughter. Agamemnon
refused. Thereupon Chryses implored Apollo to afflict the Greeks
till they should be forced to yield their prey. Apollo granted
the prayer of his priest, and sent pestilence into the Grecian
camp. Then a council was called to deliberate how to allay the
wrath of the gods and avert the plague. Achilles boldly charged
their misfortunes upon Agamemnon as caused by his withholding
Chryseis. Agamemnon, enraged, consented to relinquish his
captive, but demanded that Achilles should yield to him in her
stead Briseis, a maiden who had fallen to Achilles' share in the
division of the spoil. Achilles submitted, but forthwith
declared that he would take no further part in the war. He
withdrew his forces from the general camp and openly avowed his
intention of returning home to Greece.
The gods and goddesses interested themselves as much in this
famous war as the parties themselves. It was well known to them
that fate had decreed that Troy should fall, at last, if her
enemies should persevere and not voluntarily abandon the
enterprise. Yet there was room enough left for chance to excite
by turns the hopes and fears of the powers above who took part
with either side.
Juno and
Minerva, in consequence of the slight
put upon their charms by
Paris, were hostile to the Trojans;
Venus for the opposite cause favoured them.
Venus enlisted her
admirer Mars on the same side, but
Neptune favoured the Greeks.
Apollo was neutral, sometimes taking one side, sometimes the
other, and Jove himself, though he loved the good King Priam,
yet exercised a degree of impartiality; not, however, without
exceptions.
Thetis, the mother of
Achilles, warmly resented the injury
done to her son. She repaired immediately to Jove's palace and
besought him to make the Greeks repent of their injustice to
Achilles by granting success to the Trojan arms.
Jupiter
consented, and in the battle which ensued the Trojans were
completely successful. The Greeks were driven from the field and
took refuge in their ships.
Then Agamemnon called a council of his wisest and bravest
chiefs. Nestor advised that an embassy should be sent to
Achilles to persuade him to return to the field; that
Agamemnon
should yield the maiden, the cause of the dispute, with ample
gifts to atone for the wrong he had done. Agamemnon consented,
and
Ulyssess, Ajax and Phoenix were sent to carry to Achilles the
penitent message. They performed that duty, but Achilles was
deaf to their entreaties. He positively refused to return to the
field, and persisted in his resolution to embark for Greece
without delay.
The Greeks had constructed a rampart around their ships, and
now instead of besieging Troy they were in a manner besieged
themselves, within their rampart. The next day after the
unsuccessful embassy to Achilles, a battle was fought, and the
Trojans, favoured by Jove, were successful, and succeeded in
forcing a passage through the Grecian rampart, and were about to
set fire to the ships. Neptune, seeing the Greeks so pressed,
came to their rescue. He appeared in the form of Calchas the
prophet, encouraged the warriors with his shouts, and appealed
to each individually till he raised their ardour to such a pitch
that they forced the Trojans to give way. Ajax performed
prodigies of valour, and at length encountered Hector. Ajax
shouted defiance, to which Hector replied, and hurled his lance
at the huge warrior. It was well aimed and struck Ajax, where
the belts that bore his sword and shield crossed each other on
the breast. The double guard prevented its penetrating and it
fell harmless. Then Ajax, seizing a huge stone, one of those
that served to prop the ships, hurled it at Hector. It struck
him in the neck and stretched him on the plain. His followers
instantly seized him and bore him off, stunned an wounded.
While
Neptune was thus aiding the Greeks and driving back the
Trojans,
Jupiter saw nothing of what was going on, for his
attention had been drawn from the field by the wiles of
Juno.
That goddess had arrayed herself in all her charms, and to crown
all had borrowed of Venus her girdle, called "Cestus," which had
the effect to heighten the wearer's charms to such a degree that
they were quite irresistible. So prepared, Juno went to Join her
husband, who sat on Olympus watching the battle. When he beheld
her she looked so charming that the fondness of his early love
revived, and, forgetting the contending armies and all other
affairs of state, he thought only of her and let the battle go
as it would.
But this absorption did not continue long, and when, upon
turning his eyes downward, he beheld Hector stretched on the
plain almost lifeless from pain and bruises, he dismissed Juno
in a rage, commanding her to send Iris and
Apollo to him. When
Iris came he sent her with a stern message to Neptune, ordering
him instantly to quit the field. Apollo was despatched to heal
Hector's bruises and to inspirit his heart. These orders were
obeyed with such speed that, while the battle still raged,
Hector returned to the field and Neptune betook himself to his
own dominions.
Jacques-Lois
David Paris and Helen.
An arrow from
Paris's bow wounded Machaon, son of
AEsculapius, who inherited his father's art of healing, and was
therefore of great value to the Greeks as their surgeon, besides
being one of their bravest warriors. Nestor took Machaon in his
chariot and conveyed him from the field. As they passed the
ships of Achilles, that hero, looking out over the field, saw
the chariot of Nestor and recognized the old chief, but could
not discern who the wounded chief was. So calling Patroclus, his
companion and dearest friend, he sent him to Nestor's tent to
inquire.
Patroclus, arriving at Nestor's tent, saw Machaon wounded,
and having told the cause of his coming would have hastened
away, but Nestor detained him, to tell him the extent of the
Grecian calamities. He reminded him also how, at the time of
departing for Troy,
Achilles and himself had been charged by
their respective fathers with different advice: Achilles to
aspire to the highest pitch of glory, Patroclus, as the elder,
to keep watch over his friend, and to guide his inexperience.
"Now," said Nestor, "is the time for such influence. If the gods
so please, thou mayest win him back to the common cause; but if
not let him at least send his soldiers to the field, and come
thou, Patroclus, clad in his armour, and perhaps the very sight
of it may drive back the Trojans."
Patroclus was strongly moved with this address, and hastened
back to Achilles, revolving in his mind all he had seen and
heard. He told the prince the sad condition of affairs at the
camp of their late associates: Diomede,
Ulyssess,
Agamemnon,
Machaon, all wounded, the rampart broken down, the enemy among
the ships preparing to burn them, and thus to cut off all means
of return to Greece. While they spoke the flames burst forth
from one of the ships. Achilles, at the sight, relented so far
as to grant Patroclus his request to lead the Myrmidons (for so
were Achilles' soldiers called) to the field, and to lend him
his armour, that he might thereby strike more terror into the
minds of the Trojans. Without delay the soldiers were
marshalled, Patroclus put on the radiant armour and mounted the
chariot of Achilles, and led forth the men ardent for battle.
But before he went, Achilles strictly charged him that he should
be content with repelling the foe. "Seek not," said he, "to
press the Trojans without me, lest thou add still more to the
disgrace already mine." Then exhorting the troops to do their
best he dismissed them full of ardour to the fight.
Patroclus and his Myrmidons at once plunged into the contest
where it raged hottest; at the sight of which the joyful
Grecians shouted and the ships re-echoed the acclaim. The
Trojans, at the sight of the well-known armour, struck with
terror, looked everywhere for refuge. First those who had got
possession of the ship and set it on fire left and allowed the
Grecians to retake it and extinguish the flames. Then the rest
of the Trojans fled in dismay. Ajax, Menelaus, and the two sons
of Nestor performed prodigies of valour. Hector was forced to
turn his horses' heads and retire from the enclosure, leaving
his men entangled in the fosse to escape as they could.
Patroclus drove them before him, slaying many, none daring to
make a stand against him.
At last Sarpedon, son of Jove, ventured to oppose himself in
fight to Patroclus.
Jupiter looked down upon him and would have
snatched him from the fate which awaited him, but
Juno hinted
that if he did so it would induce all others of the inhabitants
of heaven to interpose in like manner whenever any of their
offspring were endangered; to which reason Jove yielded.
Sarpedon threw his spear, but missed Patroclus, but Patroclus
threw his with better success. It pierced Sarpedon's breast and
he fell, and, calling to his friends to save his body from the
foe, expired. Then a furious contest arose for the possession of
the corpse. The Greeks succeeded and stripped Sarpedon of his
armour; but Jove would not allow the remains of his son to be
dishonoured, and by his command Apollo snatched from the midst
of the combatants the body of Sarpedon and committed it to the
care of the twin brothers Death and Sleep, by whom it was
transported to Lycia, the native land of Sarpedon, where it
received due funeral rites.
Thus far Patroclus had succeeded to his utmost wish in
repelling the Trojans and relieving his countrymen, but now came
a change of fortune. Hector, borne in his chariot, confronted
him. Patroclus threw a vast stone at Hector, which missed its
aim, but smote Cebriones, the charioteer, and knocked him from
the car. Hector leaped from the chariot to rescue his friend,
and Patroclus also descended to complete his victory. Thus the
two heroes met face to face. At this decisive moment the poet,
as if reluctant to give Hector the glory, records that Phoebus
took part against Patroclus. He struck the helmet from his head
and the lance from his hand. At the same moment an obscure
Trojan wounded him in the back, and Hector, pressing forward,
pierced him with his spear. He fell mortally wounded.
Then arose a tremendous conflict for the body of Patroclus,
but his armour was at once taken possession of by Hector, who
retiring a short distance divested himself of his own armour and
put on that of
Achilles, then returned to the fight. Ajax and
Menelaus defended the body, and Hector and his bravest warriors
struggled to capture it. The battle raged with equal fortunes,
when Jove enveloped the whole face of heaven with a dark cloud.
The lightning flashed, the thunder roared, and Ajax, looking
round for some one whom he might despatch to Achilles to tell
him of the death of his friend, and of the imminent danger that
his remains would fall into the hands of the enemy, could see no
suitable messenger. It was then that he exclaimed in those
famous lines so often quoted,
"Father of heaven and earth! deliver thou
Achaia's host from darkness; clear the skies;
Give day; and, since thy sovereign will is such,
Destruction with it; but, O, give us day."
Cowper.
Or, as rendered by Pope,
"...Lord of earth and air!
O king! O father! hear my humble prayer!
Dispel this cloud, the light of heaven restore;
Give me to see and Ajax asks no more;
If Greece must perish we thy will obey,
But let us perish in the face of day."
Jupiter heard the prayer and dispersed the clouds. Then Ajax
sent Antilochus to
Achilles with the intelligence of Patroclus's
death, and of the conflict raging for his remains. The Greeks at
last succeeded in bearing off the body to the ships, closely
pursued by Hector and AEneas and the rest of the Trojans.
Achilles heard the fate of his friend with such distress that
Antilochus feared for a while that he would destroy himself. His
groans reached the ears of his mother, Thetis, far down in the
deeps of ocean where she abode, and she hastened to him to
inquire the cause. She found him overwhelmed with self-reproach
that he had indulged his resentment so far, and suffered his
friend to fall a victim to it. But his only consolation was the
hope of revenge. He would fly instantly in search of Hector. But
his mother reminded him that he was now without armour, and
promised him, if he would but wait till the morrow, she would
procure for him a suit of armour from
Vulcan more than equal to
that he had lost. He consented, and Thetis immediately repaired
to Vulcan's palace. She found him busy at his forge making
tripods for his own use, so artfully constructed that they moved
forward of their own accord when wanted, and retired again when
dismissed. On hearing the request of Thetis, Vulcan immediately
laid aside his work and hastened to comply with her wishes. He
fabricated a splendid suit of armour for Achilles, first a
shield adorned with elaborate devices, then a helmet crested
with gold, then a corselet and greaves of impenetrable temper,
all perfectly adapted to his form, and of consummate
workmanship. It was all done in one night, and Thetis, receiving
it, descended with it to earth and laid it down at Achilles'
feet at the dawn of day.
The first glow of pleasure that Achilles had felt since the
death of Patroclus was at the sight of this splendid armour. And
now, arrayed in it, he went forth into the camp, calling all the
chiefs to council. When they were all assembled he addressed
them. Renouncing his displeasure against
Agamemnon and bitterly
lamenting the miseries that had resulted from it, he called on
them to proceed at once to the field. Agamemnon made a suitable
reply, laying all the blame on Ate, the goddess of discord; and
thereupon complete reconcilement took place between the heroes.
Then
Achilles went forth to battle inspired with a rage and
thirst for vengeance that made him irresistible. The bravest
warriors fled before him or fell by his lance. Hector, cautioned
by Apollo, kept aloof; but the god, assuming the form of one of
Priam's sons, Lycaon, urged AEneas to encounter the terrible
warrior. AEneas, though he felt himself unequal, did not decline
the combat. He hurled his spear with all his force against the
shield, the work of Vulcan. It was formed of five metal plates;
two were of brass, two of tin, and one of gold. The spear
pierced two thicknesses, but was stopped in the third. Achilles
threw his with better success. It pierced through the shield of
AEneas, but glanced near his shoulder and made no wound. Then
AEneas seized a stone, such as two men of modern times could
hardly lift, and was about to throw it, and Achilles, with sword
drawn, was about to rush upon him, when
Neptune, who looked out
upon the contest, moved with pity for AEneas, who he saw would
surely fall a victim if not speedily rescued, spread a cloud
between the combatants, and lifting AEneas from the ground, bore
him over the heads of warriors and steeds to the rear of the
battle. Achilles, when the mist cleared away, looked round in
vain for his adversary, and acknowledging the prodigy, turned
his arms against other champions. But none dared stand before
him, and Priam looking down from the city walls beheld his whole
army in full flight towards the city. He gave command to open
wide the gates to receive the fugitives, and to shut them as
soon as the Trojans should have passed, lest the enemy should
enter likewise. But Achilles was so close in pursuit that that
would have been impossible if Apollo had not, in the form of
Agenor, Priam's son, encountered Achilles for a while, then
turned to fly, and taken the way apart from the city.
Achilles
pursued and had chased his supposed victim far from the walls,
when
Apollo disclosed himself, and Achilles, perceiving how he
had been deluded, gave up the chase.
But when the rest had escaped into the town Hector stood
without determined to await the combat. His old father called to
him from the walls and begged him to retire nor tempt the
encounter. His mother, Hecuba, also besought him to the same
effect, but all in vain. "How can I," said he to himself, "by
whose command the people went to this day's contest, where so
many have fallen, seek safety for myself against a single foe?
But what if I offer him to yield up Helen and all her treasures
and ample of our own beside? Ah, no! it is too late. He would
not even hear me through, but slay me while I spoke." While he
thus ruminated, Achilles approached, terrible as
Mars, his
armour flashing lightning as he moved. At that sight Hector's
heart failed him and he fled. Achilles swiftly pursued. They
ran, still keeping near the walls, till they had thrice
encircled the city. As often as Hector approached the walls
Achilles intercepted him and forced him to keep out in a wider
circle. But
Apollo sustained Hector's strength and would not let
him sink in weariness. Then Pallas, assuming the form of
Deiphobus, Hector's bravest brother, appeared suddenly at his
side. Hector saw him with delight, and thus strengthened stopped
his flight and turned to meet Achilles. Hector threw his spear,
which struck the shield of Achilles and bounded back. He. turned
to receive another from the hand of Deiphobus, but Deiphobus was
gone. Then Hector understood his doom and said, "Alas! it is
plain this is my hour to die! I thought Deiphobus at hand, but
Pallas deceived me, and he is still in Troy. But I will not fall
inglorious." So saying he drew his falchion from his side and
rushed at once to combat. Achilles, secure behind his shield,
waited the approach of Hector. When he came within reach of his
spear,
Achilles choosing with his eye a vulnerable part where
the armour leaves the neck uncovered, aimed his spear at that
part and Hector fell, death-wounded, and feebly said, "Spare my
body! Let my parents ransom it, and let me receive funeral rites
from the sons and daughters of Troy." To which Achilles replied,
"Dog, name not ransom nor pity to me, on whom you have brought
such dire distress. No! trust me, nought shall save thy carcass
from the dogs. Though twenty ransoms and thy weight in gold were
offered, I would refuse it all."
So saying he stripped the body of its armour, and fastening
cords to the feet tied them behind his chariot, leaving the body
to trail along the ground. Then mounting the chariot he lashed
the steeds and so dragged the body to and fro before the city.
What words can tell the grief of King Priam and Queen Hecuba at
this sight! His people could scarce restrain the old king from
rushing forth. He threw himself in the dust and besought them
each by name to give him way. Hecuba's distress was not less
violent. The citizens stood round them weeping. The sound of the
mourning reached the ears of Andromache, the wife of Hector, as
she sat among her maidens at work, and anticipating evil she
went forth to the wall. When she saw the sight there presented,
she would have thrown herself headlong from the wall, but
fainted and fell into the arms of her maidens. Recovering, she
bewailed her fate, picturing to herself her country ruined,
herself a captive, and her son dependent for his bread on the
charity of strangers.
Peter
Paul
Rubens Achill and Agamemnon.
When
Achilles and the Greeks had taken their revenge on the
killer of Patroclus they busied themselves in paying due funeral
rites to their friend. A pile was erected, and the body burned
with due solemnity; and then ensued games of strength and skill,
chariot races, wrestling, boxing and archery. Then the chiefs
sat down to the funeral banquet and after that retired to rest.
But Achilles neither partook of the feast nor of sleep. The
recollection of his lost friend kept him awake, remembering
their companionship in toil and dangers, in battle or on the
perilous deep. Before the earliest dawn he left his tent, and
joining to his chariot his swift steeds, he fastened Hector's
body to be dragged behind. Twice he dragged him round the tomb
of Patroclus, leaving him at length stretched in the dust. But
Apollo would not permit the body to be torn or disfigured with
all this abuse, but preserved it free from all taint or
defilement.
While Achilles indulged his wrath in thus disgracing brave
Hector, Jupiter in pity summoned Thetis to his presence. He told
her to go to her son and prevail on him to restore the body of
Hector to his friends. Then
Jupiter sent Iris to King Priam to
encourage him to go to Achilles and beg the body of his son.
Iris delivered her message, and Priam immediately prepared to
obey. He opened his treasuries and took out rich garments and
cloths, with ten talents in gold and two splendid tripods and a
golden cup of matchless workmanship. Then he called to his sons
and bade them draw forth his litter and place in it the various
articles designed for a ransom to
Achilles. When all was ready,
the old king with a single companion as aged as himself, the
herald Idaeus, drove forth from the gates, parting there with
Hecuba, his queen, and all his friends, who lamented him as
going to certain death.
But
Jupiter, beholding with compassion the venerable king,
sent Mercury to be his guide and protector. Mercury, assuming
the form of a young warrior, presented himself to the aged
couple, and while at the sight of him they hesitated whether to
fly or yield, the god approached, and grasping Priam's hand
offered to be their guide to Achilles' tent. Priam gladly
accepted his offered service, and he, mounting the carriage,
assumed the reins and soon conveyed them to the tent of
Achilles.
Mercury's wand put to sleep all the guards, and
without hindrance he introduced Priam into the tent where
Achilles sat, attended by two of his warriors. The old king
threw himself at the feet of Achilles, and kissed those terrible
hands which had destroyed so many of his sons. "Think, O
Achilles," he said, "of thy own father, full of days like me,
and trembling on the gloomy verge of life. Perhaps even now some
neighbour chief oppresses him and there is none at hand to
succour him in his distress. Yet doubtless knowing that
Achilles
lives he still rejoices, hoping that one day he shall see thy
face again. But no comfort cheers me, whose bravest sons, so
late the flower of Ilium, all have fallen. Yet one I had, one
more than all the rest the strength of my age, whom, fighting
for his country, thou hast slain. I come to redeem his body,
bringing inestimable ransom with me. Achilles! reverence the
gods! recollect thy father! for his sake show compassion to me!"
These words moved Achilles, and he wept remembering by turns his
absent father and his lost friend. Moved with pity of Priam's
silver locks and beard, he raised him from the earth, and thus
spake: "Priam, I know that thou hast reached this place
conducted by some god, for without aid divine no mortal even in
his prime of youth had dared the attempt. I grant thy request,
moved thereto by the evident will of Jove." So saying he arose,
and went forth with his two friends, and unloaded of its charge
the litter, leaving two mantles and a robe for the covering of
the body, which they placed on the litter, and spread the
garments over it, that not unveiled it should be borne back to
Troy. Then
Achilles dismissed the old king with his attendants,
having first pledged himself to allow a truce of twelve days for
the funeral solemnities.
As the litter approached the city and was descried from the
walls, the people poured forth to gaze once more on the face of
their hero. Foremost of all, the mother and the wife of Hector
came, and at the sight of the lifeless body renewed their
lamentations. The people all wept with them, and to the going
down of the sun there was no pause or abatement of their grief.
The next day preparations were made for the funeral
solemnities. For nine days the people brought wood and built the
pile, and on the tenth they placed the body on the summit and
applied the torch; while all Troy thronging forth encompassed
the pile. When it had completely burned, they quenched the
cinders with wine, collected the bones and placed them in a
golden urn, which they buried in the earth, and reared a pile of
stones over the spot.
"Such honours Ilium to her hero paid,
And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade."
Pope.
