"The gods have granted thee high rank and rule, but thou hast no
fortitude. Return if thou desirest. Still enough long-haired Achaians will
remain to take the city. If they desire to go as well, at least Sthenelus
and I will remain until Troy is ours. We have the gods with us."
At the suggestion of Nestor a banquet was spread, and after the hunger of
all was appeased, the peril of the Greeks was discussed in the Council of
the Elders. Here Nestor showed Agamemnon that the trouble began at the
hour when he drove Achilles from their ranks by appropriating Briseis.
Ill fortune had humbled the haughty Agamemnon, and he confessed that he
had done wrong. "For this wrong, however," said he, "I am ready to make
ample amends. Priceless gifts I will send to Achilles: seven tripods, six
talents of pure gold, twenty shining caldrons, twelve steeds, seven
damsels, among them Briseis; not only this, when Priam's citadel falls, he
shall be the first to load his galley down with gold and silver and with
Trojan maidens. Better yet, I will unite him to me by the ties of
marriage. I will give him my daughter for a wife, and with her for a dower
will go seven cities near the sea, rich in flocks and herds. Then let him
yield, and join us in taking Troy."
Joyfully the messengers--Ajax, Ulysses, and the aged Phoenix, carefully
instructed by Nestor--set forth on their embassy. As they neared the tents
of the Myrmidons their ears were struck by the notes of a silver harp
touched by Achilles to solace him in his loneliness. His friend Patroclus
sat beside him in silence. Achilles and Patroclus greeted the messengers
warmly, mingled the pure wine, and spread a feast for them. This over,
Ulysses, at a nod from Ajax, drank to Achilles' health, and then told him
of the sore need of the Greeks, pressed by the Trojans. If he did not come
to their aid, he whose very name frightened the enemy, the time would
surely come when he would greatly lament his idleness.
Achilles' passion, the greater for its fifteen days' repression, burst
forth in his reply: "I will say what I have in my heart," he cried, "since
concealment is hateful to me. What thanks does the victor in countless
battles gain? He and the idler are equally honored, and die the same
death. Many nights' slumber have I lost on the battle field; many cities
have I conquered, abroad and here upon the Trojan coast, and of the spoil,
the greater part has gone to Agamemnon, who sat idle in his fleet; yet
from me, who suffered much in fighting, he took my prize, my dearly loved
Briseis; now let him keep her. Let him learn for himself how to conquer
Hector,--this Hector, who, when I went out against him, was afraid to
leave the shelter of the Scaean gates. To-morrow, if you but watch, you
will see my galleys sailing upon the Hellespont on our return to Phthia.
Evil was the hour in which I left its fertile coasts for this barren
shore, where my mother Thetis foretold I should win deathless renown but
bitter death.
"Tell Agamemnon that I will never wed a child of his. On my return to
Phthia my father will select a bride for me with whom, on his broad
fields, I can live the life I have dreamed of."
The entreaties of the aged Phoenix, who had helped to rear Achilles, and
his arguments against his mercilessness, were of no avail; neither were
the words of Ajax. However, he at last sent the message that he would
remain by the sea watching the course of the war, and that he would
encounter Hector whenever he approached to set fire to the galleys of the
Myrmidons.
That night sleep did not visit the eyes of Agamemnon. Long he reflected on
the reply of Achilles, and wondered at the watch fires on the plain before
Troy. The other chiefs were likewise full of anxiety, and when Nestor
offered a reward to any one who would go as a spy to the Trojan camp,
Diomed quickly volunteered. Selecting the wary Ulysses as his companion,
he stole forth to where the Trojans sat around their camp fires. The pair
intercepted and slew Dolon the spy, and finding Rhesus and his Thracian
band wrapped in slumber, slew the king with twelve of his chiefs, and
carried away his chariot and horses.
Encouraged by this bold deed, the Greeks went forth to battle the next
morning. Fortune still favored the Trojans, however, and many Greeks fell
by the hand of Hector, until he was checked by Ulysses and Diomed. In the
fight, Agamemnon was wounded, and Diomed, Ulysses, and Machaon. And when
Achilles from his tent saw the physician borne back from battle wounded,
in the chariot of Nestor, he sent Patroclus to inquire of his injury.
Nestor sent word that Ulysses, Agamemnon, Diomed, Machaon, and Eurypylus
were wounded; perhaps these tidings would induce Achilles to forget his
grievances, and once more go forth to battle. If not, he urged Patroclus
to beseech Achilles to permit him, Patroclus, to go forth with the
Myrmidons, clad in Achilles' armor, and strike terror to the hearts of the
Trojans.
The Trojans, encouraged by their success, pushed forward to the trench
which the Greeks had dug around the wall thrown up before the ships, and,
leaving their chariots on the brink, went on foot to the gates. After a
long struggle,--because the Trojans could not break down the wall and the
Greeks could not drive back the Trojans,--Hector seized a mighty stone, so
large that two men could scarcely lift it, and bearing it in one hand,
battered the bolted gates until they gave way with a crash; and the
Trojans sprang within, pursuing the affrighted Greeks to the ships.
From the heights of Olympus the gods kept a strict watch on the battle;
and as soon as Neptune discovered that Jove, secure in the belief that no
deity would interfere with the successful Trojans, had turned away his
eyes, he went to the aid of the Greeks. Juno, also, furious at the sight
of the Greeks who had fallen before the mighty Hector, determined to turn
the attention of Jove until Neptune had had an opportunity to assist the
Greeks. Jove sat upon the peaks of Mount Ida, and thither went Juno, after
rendering herself irresistible by borrowing the cestus of Venus. Jove,
delighted with the appearance of his wife, and still further won by her
tender words and caresses, thought no longer of the armies fighting at the
Grecian wall.
Great was his anger when, after a time, he again looked towards Troy and
saw that Neptune had employed his time in aiding the Greeks, and that
Hector had been wounded by Ajax. By his orders Neptune was quickly
recalled, Hector was healed by Apollo, and the Trojans, strengthened again
by Jupiter, drove back the Greeks to the ships, and attempted to set fire
to the fleet.
Seeing the Greeks in such desperate straits, Achilles at last gave his
consent that Patroclus should put on his armor, take his Myrmidons, and
drive the Trojans from the ships, stipulating, however, that he should
return when this was done, and not follow the Trojans in their flight to
Troy.
The appearance of the supposed Achilles struck fear to the hearts of the
Trojans, and Patroclus succeeded in driving them from the fleet and in
slaying Sarpedon. Intoxicated by his success, he forgot Achilles' warning,
and pursued the fleeing Trojans to the walls of Troy. The strength of the
Trojans was not sufficient to cope with that of Patroclus; and Troy would
have been taken had not Apollo stood upon a tower to thrust him down each
time he attempted to scale the walls. At last Hector and Patroclus
encountered each other, and fought furiously. Seeing the peril of Hector,
Apollo smote Patroclus's helmet off, broke his spear, and loosed his
buckler. Still undaunted, the hero fought until he fell, and died with the
boasting words of Hector in his ears.
Speedily the swift-footed Antilochus conveyed to Achilles the tidings of
his friend's death. Enveloped in "a black cloud of sorrow," Achilles
rolled in the dust and lamented for his friend until warned by Iris that
the enemy were about to secure Patroclus's body. Then, without armor,--for
Hector had secured that of Patroclus and put it on,--he hastened to the
trench, apart from the other Greeks, and shouted thrice, until the men of
Troy, panic-stricken, fell back in disorder, and the body of his friend
was carried away by the triumphant Greeks.
Through the long night the Achaians wept over Patroclus; but deeper than
their grief was the sorrow of Achilles, for he had promised Menoetius to
bring back his son in honor, laden with spoils, and now the barren coast
of Troy would hold the ashes of both. Then Achilles made a solemn vow not
to celebrate the funeral rites of Patroclus until he brought to him the
head and arms of Hector, and had captured on the field twelve Trojan
youths to slaughter on his funeral pile. The hated Hector slain and
Patroclus's funeral rites celebrated, he cared not for the future. The
fate his mother had foretold did not daunt him. Since, by his own folly,
his dearest friend had been taken from him, the sooner their ashes rested
together the better. If he was not to see the rich fields of Phthia, his
was to be, at least, a deathless renown.
To take the place of the arms which Hector had taken from Patroclus,
Vulcan, at Thetis's request, had fashioned for Achilles the most beautiful
armor ever worn by man. Brass, tin, silver, and gold composed the bright
corselet, the solid helm, and the wondrous shield, adorned with such
pictures as no mortal artist ever wrought.
After having feasted his eyes on this beautiful armor, whose clanking
struck terror even to the hearts of the Myrmidons, Achilles sought out the
Greeks and Agamemnon, and in the assembly acknowledged his fault. "Let
these things belong to the dead past," said he. "My wrath is done. Let us
now stir the long-haired Greeks to war."
"Fate, not I, was the cause of our trouble," replied Agamemnon. "The
goddess of discord created the dissension, that Até who troubled even the
gods on Olympus until expelled by Jupiter. But I will make amends with
liberal gifts."
Peace having been made between the chiefs, Achilles returned to his tent
without partaking of the banquet spread by Agamemnon, as he had vowed not
to break his fast until he had avenged his friend. Agamemnon's gifts were
carried to the tents of Achilles by the Myrmidons, and with them went
Briseis, who, when she saw the body of Patroclus, threw herself upon it
and wept long for the one whose kindness to her--whose lot had been sorrow
upon sorrow--she could never forget. All the women mourned, seemingly for
Patroclus, really for their own griefs. Achilles likewise wept, until,
strengthened by Pallas, he hastened to put his armor on and urge the
Greeks to battle.
As he mounted his chariot he spoke thus to his fleet steeds, Xanthus and
Balius: "Bring me back when the battle is over, I charge you, my noble
steeds. Leave me not on the field, as you left Patroclus."
Then Xanthus, with the long-flowing mane, endowed with power of speech by
Juno, thus spake: "This day, at least, we will bring thee home, Achilles;
but the hour of thy death is nigh, and, since the fates have decreed it,
we could not save thee, were we swift as the winged winds. Nor was it
through fault of ours that Patroclus fell."
Angry at the reminder of his doom, Achilles drove hurriedly to the field,
determined to fight until he had made the Trojans sick of war.
Knowing that the war was drawing rapidly to a close, Jupiter gave
permission to the gods to take part in it, and a terrible combat ensued.
Juno, Pallas, Neptune, Hermes, and Vulcan went to the fleet of the Greeks,
while Mars, Apollo, Diana, Latona, Venus, and Xanthus arrayed themselves
with the Trojans. When the gods joined in the combat and Neptune shook the
earth and Jupiter thundered from above, there was such tumult in the air
that even the dark god of the underworld was terrified. In the battle of
the gods, Apollo encountered Neptune, Pallas fought against Mars, Diana
and Juno opposed each other, Hermes was pitted against Latona, and Xanthus
or Scamander, the river god, strove against Vulcan. It was not long before
Jupiter's fear was realized, and the mortals needed the aid of the gods.
Æneas, encouraged by Apollo to confront Achilles, was rescued only by the
intervention of Neptune, who, remembering that it was the will of fate
that Æneas should be spared to perpetuate the Dardan race, snatched him
away in a cloud, although he was himself aiding the Greeks.
Mad with rage and spattered with blood, Achilles pursued the flying
Trojans about the plain, sparing none except the twelve youths who were to
be butchered on the funeral pile of Patroclus. He stood in the river,
filling it with slaughtered bodies until, indignant at the insults offered
him, the river god Scamander caused his waters to rush after Achilles so
that he fled for his life. Far across the plain it chased him, and was
only stopped by the fires of Vulcan, summoned by Juno.
By an artifice of Apollo, Achilles was decoyed away from the gates of Troy
long enough to allow the Trojans to enter. Hector, however, stayed
without, unmoved by the prayers of Priam and Hecuba. Too late he saw his
error in not heeding the advice of Polydamas to keep within the walls
after the re-appearance of Achilles; he feared the reproaches of the
Trojan warriors and dames, and determined to meet his fate, whatever it
might be. Even death at the hands of Achilles would be preferable to the
insults and reproaches that might await him within the walls.
When he saw Achilles approach in his god-given armor, fear seized the
noble Hector, and he fled from his enemy. Thrice around the walls he fled,
Achilles pursuing, and the gods looked down from heaven in sorrow, for,
according to the decrees of fate, Hector must fall this day by the hand of
Achilles. To hasten the combat, Pallas assumed the form of Hector's
brother Deiphobus, and stood by his side, encouraging him to turn and meet
his foe.
Hector soon perceived the deception, but boldly faced Achilles, who sprang
at him, brandishing his awful spear. Quickly stooping, Hector avoided the
weapon and hurled his spear at Achilles. It was an unequal conflict. The
armor of Achilles was weapon proof, and Pallas stood at his elbow to
return to him his weapons. Achilles knew well the weak spots in his old
armor worn by Hector, and selecting a seam unguarded by the shield, he
gave Hector a mortal wound, and insulted him as he lay dying at his feet.
Tears and wailing filled the city as the Trojans watched the combat; and
despair fell upon them when they saw the body of Hector fastened to the
chariot of Achilles and dragged thrice around the Trojan walls. From her
chamber where she sat weaving, unaware of the mortal combat waged before
the walls, Andromache came forth to see great Hector fallen and his corpse
insulted by his enemy.
While Priam sat in his palace with dust strewn on his head, and the
wailings of the women filled the streets of Troy, the Greeks were
hastening to their camps to celebrate the funeral rites of Patroclus,
whose body had been saved from corruption by Thetis. A massive funeral
pile was constructed of wood brought from the forests on Mount Ida. The
chiefs in their chariots and thousands of men on foot followed the body of
Patroclus. The comrades of the dead warrior cut off their long hair and
strewed it on the dead, and Achilles sheared his yellow hair and placed
the locks in Patroclus's hands. He had suffered the flowing curls to grow
long because of a vow made by his father to the river Sperchius that he
would sacrifice these locks to him on his son's return home, a useless
vow, since now he was to lose his life by this dark blue sea.
Next the sacrifice was offered, many fatlings of the flock, and countless
oxen, noble steeds, dogs, jars of honey, and lastly the bodies of the
twelve Trojan youths were heaped upon the fire.
After the flames had consumed the pile, Achilles and his friends quenched
the ashes with red wine, and gathered the bones of Patroclus in a golden
vase which Achilles commanded his friends not to bury until he, too, fell
before Troy, that their ashes might be mingled and buried under one mound
by the remaining Greeks.
After the funeral rites were celebrated, the funeral games were held, in
which the warriors vied with each other in chariot racing, boxing,
wrestling, foot racing, throwing the spear, and archery.
So ended the funeral of Patroclus, and the gods, looking down from heaven,
sorrowed for Hector, whose corpse Achilles was treating with such
indignity, intending that the dogs should destroy it. The gods had kept
the body unstained, and now they determined to soften Achilles' heart,
that he might restore it to Priam.
Iris descended from heaven, and standing at the side of Priam as he sat
with dust-strewn head, in his palace halls, gave him Jove's command that
he should take gifts and visit Achilles, to ransom Hector's body. Heeding
not the prayers of Hecuba, Priam gathered together whatever was most
choice, talents of pure gold, beautiful goblets, handsome robes and
tunics, and seating himself in his polished car, drawn by strong-hoofed
mules, set forth unaccompanied save by an aged herald. Above him soared
Jove's eagle, in token of the god's protection.
Priam had not gone far when he met Mercury in the guise of a Greek youth,
who guided him unseen through the slumbering Greek lines to the tent of
Achilles.
The hero was just finishing his repast when the old king entered, fell on
his knees, kissed the cruel hands that had slain so many of his sons, and
prayed him to give up the body of his loved Hector in return for the
ransom he had brought with him. Achilles, recognizing the fact that Priam
had made his way there uninjured only by the assistance and protection of
some god, and touched by the thought of his own aged father, whom he
should never again gladden by his return to Phthia, granted the request,
and bade Priam seat himself at the table and banquet with him. He also
granted a twelve days' truce for the celebration of the funeral rites of
Hector, and then invited Priam to pass the night in his tent. Warned by
Mercury, Priam rose early in the morning, and, unseen by the Greeks,
conveyed Hector's body back to Troy.
When the polished car of Priam entered the city of Troy, great were the
lamentations and wailings over the body of Hector. Hecuba and Andromache
vied with each other in the bitterness of their grief, and Helen lamented
because the only friend she had in Troy had departed, and no one who
remained would be kind to her.
During the twelve days granted as a truce, wood was brought from Ida, and
the funeral rites of Hector were celebrated as befitted the son of a great
king.