The Trojan War lasted ten years. Its object was to punish Paris, son
of the King of Troy, for eloping with Helen, the wife of Menelaus,
King of Sparta, and taking away a shipload of treasures to boot. The
subject of Homer's _Iliad_ is popularly supposed to be this Trojan
War; in reality, however, it covers less than two months (fifty-two
days) of those ten years, and its theme, as the first lines indicate,
is the wrath of Achilles--the ruinous wrath, which in the tenth year,
brought on the other Greek warriors woes innumerable. Achilles had
spent much of the intervening time in ravaging twelve cities of Asia
Minor, carrying away treasures and captive women, after the piratical
Greek custom. One of these captives was Briseis, a high priest's
daughter, whose husband and three brothers he had slain with his own
hand, and who became his favorite concubine. King Agamemnon, the chief
commander of the Greek forces, also had for his favorite concubine a
high priest's daughter, named Chryseis. Her father came to ransom the
captive girl, but Agamemnon refused to give her up because, as he
confessed with brutal frankness, he preferred her to his wife.[295]
For this refusal Apollo brings a pestilence on the Greek army, which
can be abated only by restoring Chryseis to her father. Agamemnon at
last consents, on condition that some other prize of honor be given to
him--though, as Thersites taunts him (II, 226-228), his tents are
already full of captive women, among whom he always has had first
choice. Achilles, too, informs him that he shall have all the women he
wants when Troy is taken; but what really hurts Agamemnon's feelings
is not so much the loss of his favorite as the thought that the hated
Achilles should enjoy Briseis, while his prize, Chryseis, must be
returned to her father. So he threatens to retaliate on Achilles by
taking Briseis from his tent and keeping her for himself. "I would
deserve the name of coward," retorts Achilles
"were I to yield to you in everything.... But this let me
say--Never shall I lift my arm to strive for the girl either
with you or any other man; you gave her, you can take her.
But of all else, by the dark ship, that belongs to me,
thereof you shall not take anything against my will. Do that
and all shall see your black blood trickle down my spear."
Having made this "uncowardly," chivalrous, and romantic distinction
between his two kinds of property--yielding Briseis, but threatening
murder if aught else belonging to him be touched--Achilles goes and
orders his friend Patroclus to take the young woman from the tent and
give her to the king. She leaves her paramour--her husband's and
brothers' murderer--unwillingly, and he sits down and weeps--why?
because, as he tells his mother, he has been insulted by Agamemnon,
who has taken away his prize of honor. From that moment Achilles
refuses to join the assemblies, or take a part in the battles, thus
bringing "woes innumerable" on his countrymen. He refuses to yield
even after Agamemnon, alarmed by his reverses, seeks to conciliate him
by offering him gold and horses and women in abundance; telling him he
shall have back his Briseis, whom the king swears he has never
touched, and, besides her, seven Lesbian women of more than human
beauty; also, the choice of twenty Trojan women as soon as the city
capitulates; and, in addition to these, one of the three princesses,
his own daughters--twenty-nine women in all!
Must not a hero who so stubbornly and wrathfully resented the seizure
of his concubine have been deeply in love with her? He himself remarks
to Odysseus, who comes to attempt a reconciliation (IX., 340-44):
"Do the sons of Atreus alone of mortal men love their
bedfellows? Every man who is good and sensible loves his
concubine and cares for her as I too love mine with all my
heart, though but the captive of my spear."
Gladstone here translates the word [Greek: alochos] "wife," though, as
far as Achilles is concerned, it means concubine. Of course it would
have been awkward for England's Prime Minister to make Achilles say
that "every man must love his concubine, if he has sense and virtue;"
so he arbitrarily changes the meaning of the word and then begs us to
notice the moral beauty of this sentiment and the "dignity" of the
relation between Achilles and Briseis! Yet no one seems to have
denounced him for this transgression against ethics, philology, and
common sense. On the contrary, a host of translators and commentators
have done the same thing, to the obscuration of the truth.
Nor is this all. When we examine what the Achilles of Homer means by
the fine phrase "every man loves his bedfellow as I love mine," we
come across a grotesque parody even of sensual infatuation, not to
speak of romantic love. If Achilles had been animated by the strong
individual preference which sometimes results even from animal
passion, he would not have told Agamemnon, "take Briseis, but don't
you dare to touch any of my other property or I will smash your
skull." If he had been what _we_ understand by a lover, he would not
have been represented by the poet, after Briseis was taken away from
him, as having "his heart consumed by grief" because "he yearned for
_the battle_." He would, instead, have yearned for the girl. And when
Agamemnon offered to give her back untouched, Achilles, had he been a
real lover, would have thrown pride and wrath to the winds and
accepted the offer with eagerness and alacrity.
But the most amazing part of the story is reached when we ask what
Achilles means when he says that every good and sensible man [Greek:
phileei kai kaedetai]--loves and cherishes--his concubine, as he
professes to love his own. _How_ does he love Briseis? Patroclus had
promised her (XIX., 297-99), probably for reasons of his own (she is
represented as being extremely fond of him), to see to it that
Achilles would ultimately make her his legitimate wife, but Achilles
himself never dreams of such a thing, as we see in lines 393-400, book
IX. After refusing the offer of one of Agamemnon's daughters, he goes
on to remark:
"If the gods preserve me and I return to my home, Peleus
himself will seek a wife for me. There are many Achaian
maidens in Hellas and Phthia, daughters of city-protecting
princes. Among these I shall select the one I desire to be
my dear wife. Very often is my manly heart moved with
longing to be there to take a wedded wife [Greek: mnaestaen
alochon], and enjoy the possessions Peleus has gathered."
And if any further detail were needed to prove how utterly shallow,
selfish, and sensual was his "love" of Briseis, we should find it a
few lines later (663) where the poet naïvely tells us, as a matter of
course, that
"Achilles slept in the innermost part of the tent and
by his side lay a beautiful-cheeked woman, whom he had
brought from Lesbos. On the other side lay Patroclus
with the fair Isis by his side, the gift of Achilles."
Obviously even individual preference was not a strong ingredient in
the "love" of these "heroes," and we may well share the significant
surprise of Ajax (638) that Achilles should persist in his wrath when
seven girls were offered him for one. Evidently the tent of Achilles,
like that of Agamemnon, was full of women (in line 366 he especially
refers to his assortment of "fair-girdled women" whom he expects to
take home when the war is over); yet Gladstone had the audacity to
write that though concubinage prevailed in the camp before Troy, it
was "only single concubinage." In his larger treatise he goes so far
as to apologize for these ruffians--who captured and traded off women
as they would horses or cows--on the ground that they were away from
their wives and were indulging in the "mildest and least licentious"
of all forms of adultery! Yet Gladstone was personally one of the
purest and noblest of men. Strange what somersaults a hobby ridden too
hard may induce a man to make in his ethical attitude!