TOLD TO THE CHILDREN SERIES
EDITED BY LOUEY CHISHOLM
STORIES
FROM THE ILIAD
NOTE
I have to acknowledge my indebtedness to Mr. Ernest Myers, Mr. Walter
Leaf, and Mr. Andrew Lang for their translation of The Iliad, of which
free use has been made in this little book.
J. L. L.
[Illustration: Into the sleeping heart of Helen there came remembrance
(page 33)]
STORIES FROM
THE ILIAD
OR
The Siege of Troy
TOLD TO THE CHILDREN BY
JEANIE LANG
WITH PICTURES BY
W. HEATH ROBINSON
LONDON: T. C. & E. C. JACK
NEW YORK: E. P. DUTTON & CO.
TO
HUGO MEYNELL CYRIL IONIDES
AND
INGRAM AMYAS IONIDES
ABOUT THIS BOOK
For two Greek boys have I made this little book, which tells them in
English some of the stories that they soon will read for themselves in
the tongue of their forefathers.
But the stories are not only for boys whose fatherland lies near the
sunny sea through which ships, red-prowed and black, fared in the
long-ago days.
Of such great deeds, by such brave men, do they tell, that they must
make the hearts of all English boys, and of boys of every nation under
the sun, grow big within them.
And when, in the gallant-sounding music of the Greek tongue in which
the tales first were told, these boys read the story of the Siege of
Troy, they must surely long to fight as fought the Greeks in days
of old, and long to be heroes such as those who fought and who died
without fear for the land that they loved.
JEANIE LANG.
CONTENTS
Page
The Story of what led to the Siege of Troy, 1
Chap.
I. How Achilles and Agamemnon fell out, 6
II. The Council, 17
III. The Fight between Paris and Menelaus, 28
IV. How Menelaus was wounded; and the Brave
Deeds of Diomedes, 39
V. Hector and Andromache, 53
VI. The Fight between Hector and Ajax, 61
VII. The Burning of the Dead; and the Battle of
the Plain, 67
VIII. The Message to Achilles, 79
IX. The White Horses of Rhesus, 86
X. The Fighting on the Plain, 97
XI. How Patroclus Fought and Died, 103
XII. The Rousing of Achilles, 111
LIST OF PICTURES
Into the sleeping heart of Helen there came remembrance,
_Frontispiece_
At page
Many were the heroes who sailed away from Greece, 4
Achilles, fleetest of foot and bravest of all Greek
heroes, 8
Mars, like a thunder-cloud, swept upwards through the
sky to Olympus, 52
Agamemnon heard the sound of pipe and flute and
laughter of men, as the Trojans feasted and made
merry, 86
The point of the spear flew over the left shoulder of
Patroclus, 108
The making of the arms of Achilles, 112
The shadow of Death came down upon Hector, 116
THE STORY OF WHAT LED TO THE SIEGE OF TROY
In the deep forest that clothes Mount Ida, not far from the strong city
of Troy, Paris, son of King Priam, watched his father’s flocks by night.
Suddenly through the dim woods he saw a light, as if the golden sun and
silver moon shone both together.
And, lo! in the radiance of this light there stood before him the
three fairest of the goddesses--queenly Hera, wise Athene, and lovely
Aphrodite.
Like music stealing through the trees came the soft voice of Hera:
‘Of all mortal men art thou the most beautiful, Paris, and to thee do
we come for judgment. Tell us which of us is the fairest of all, and to
that one whom thou so deemest, give this golden apple.’
So spake Hera, and placed in the hand of Paris an apple of purest gold.
Again she spake: ‘If to me, Hera, queen of goddesses, and wife of
mighty Zeus, king of all the gods, thou dost grant the prize of
loveliness, Power immeasurable shall be thine. King shalt thou be of
the lands where the grey dawn rises, and king even to where the red sun
goes down. A hundred peoples shall call thee lord.’
She was silent, and the voice of Athene, fair and pure as a silver
moonbeam, broke the stillness of the starless night.
‘To me award the prize,’ she said, ‘and wise as the gods shalt thou be.
With me as thy friend and guide, all things will be possible to thee.’
Last of all, standing in a rosy light, as of the dawning sunlight in
the spring, spoke Aphrodite.
‘What are Power and Wisdom, fair Paris?’ she pled. ‘Wisdom and Power
bring no joy at last. I will give thee Love, and for thy wife thou
shalt have the fairest woman in all the world.’
And Paris, the melody of her voice still in his ears, as he gazed
spellbound on her face of wondrous beauty, handed to Aphrodite the
golden prize.
So was it that the wrath of the gods came upon Paris, son of Priam. For
Hera and Athene, filled with rage, vowed to be revenged upon Paris and
all his race, and made all the gods pledge themselves to aid them in
their vengeance.
Across far seas sailed Paris, with Aphrodite as his guide, to Sparta,
where Menelaus was king.
A brave king was Menelaus, and happily he lived in his kingdom with
Helen, his queen, fairest of all women. One child they had, a little
maid, Hermione.
When to Sparta there came Paris, with eyes blue as the sea, and hair
that gleamed like gold on his purple robe, gallant and brave, and more
beautiful than any mortal man, glad was the welcome that he had from
Menelaus.
And when Paris gazed on Helen’s face, he knew that in all the world
there was no woman half so fair as the wife of Menelaus.
Then did Aphrodite cast her magic upon Helen.
No longer did she love her husband, nor did she remember little
Hermione, her own dear child.
When Paris spoke to her words of love, and begged her to flee with him,
and to be his wife, she knew only that she loved Paris more than all
else. Gladly she went with him, and in his red-prowed ship together
they sailed across the green waves to Troyland, where Mount Ida showed
her snowy crown high above the forests.
An angry man was Menelaus when he found that Paris had stolen from him
the fair wife who was to him as his own heart.
To his elder brother Agamemnon, overlord of all the Greeks, he went and
told his grievous tale.
And from far and wide did the Greek hosts gather, until a hundred
thousand men and eleven hundred fourscore and six ships were ready to
cross the seas to Troyland.
[Illustration: Many were the heroes who sailed away from Greece (page
5)]
Many were the heroes who sailed away from Greece to punish Paris and
his kin, and to bring back fair Helen to her own land.
Few there were who came home, for ten long years of woe and of spilling
of blood came to the men of Greece and of Troy from the fatal beauty of
Helen the queen.
CHAPTER I
HOW ACHILLES AND AGAMEMNON FELL OUT
Before the walls of Troy the Greeks set their camp, and day by day and
night by night did they besiege it.
One day would the Greeks win the fight, and the next day the Trojans
would be victors in the battle.
And so passed nine long years away. To the city of Chryse one day went
part of the Greek host, sacked it, and brought back to their camp rich
spoils and many prisoners.
Among the prisoners was a beautiful maiden, Chryseïs, daughter of the
old priest of the Temple of Apollo. Her did Agamemnon choose as his
part of the spoil, to be his slave.
From Chryse, seeking his daughter, came the old priest. With him he
brought a rich ransom to buy the freedom of Chryseïs, and in his hands
he bore a golden staff wrapped round with the garland worn by Apollo,
to show that the god whose priest he was, was with him in craving a
boon from Agamemnon, overlord of the Greeks.
‘Take this ransom, I pray you, and set ye my dear child free,’ pled
Chryses, ‘and the gods will grant you to lay waste the city of Troy,
and to fare happily homeward.’
Then the Greeks gladly agreed that Chryseïs should go home with her
father, and that the goodly ransom should be theirs. But Agamemnon, in
great wrath, drove the old man away.
‘Let me not find thee, old man, lingering here beside the ships, lest
the golden staff and garland of the god help thee naught!’ he cried.
‘Your daughter shall grow old as my slave, and never more return to thy
land. Get ye gone!’
Silently along the shore of the sounding sea walked Chryses the priest.
Alone he knelt down and prayed to Apollo, his god.
‘Hear me, god of the silver bow!’ he cried. ‘If I have built thee a
temple that is fair in thine eyes, and have offered unto thee there
the flesh of bulls and goats, hear me! Let the Greeks be paid by thine
arrows for my tears!’
High up amongst the peaks of Olympus Apollo heard the prayer of his
priest, and great anger filled his heart.
As dark night falls upon the earth, so did the god come to where
Agamemnon and his armies lay. A little apart from the ships he sat
down, and drew back with a dreadful clang the string of his silver bow.
Mules and dogs fell at first before his arrows of death. Then he smote
men.
For nine days did the Greeks fall dead at the will of the avenging god.
For nine days did the black smoke from the funeral pyres of the Greek
warriors roll out to sea.
On the tenth day Achilles, son of a mortal warrior and a goddess,
fleetest of foot and bravest of all Greek heroes, called an assembly of
the Greeks.
[Illustration: Achilles, fleetest of foot, and bravest of all Greek
heroes (page 8)]
‘War and pestilence ravage us,’ he said. ‘Surely it is time to inquire
of a priest or soothsayer why it is that Apollo is so wroth.’
Then Chalcas, wisest of soothsayers, arose and spoke.
‘These woes have come upon us,’ said he, ‘for the wrong that Agamemnon
hath done to Chryses, priest of Apollo. With his arrows of pestilence
Apollo will not cease to slay until we have given the bright-eyed
Chryseïs back to her father, unbought and unransomed, and have taken
a hundred beasts and offered them up at Chryse as a sacrifice to the
angry god.’
So spake Chalcas, and sate him down.
There uprose then from his seat the great Agamemnon, black anger in his
heart, and with eyes flashing fire.
‘Ill prophet art thou indeed, Chalcas!’ he cried. ‘Naught but evil
hast thou ever foretold to me! I would not take a goodly ransom for
Chryseïs, because I love her even more than I love my own wedded wife.
Yet will I give her back, rather than that my people should perish.
But another prize must I have! Why should I alone, of all the Greeks,
have my prize taken from me? It is not seemly that it should be so.’
‘Nay, nay! most noble Agamemnon,’ said Achilles. ‘Too greedy art thou
for gain. We have no common store of treasure with which to repay thee
for that thou hast lost. What spoil we got from the cities we have
taken hath already been divided. Nay, give back Chryseïs to her father,
and when next we sack a city, thine shall be the richest spoil of all.’
‘Dost seek to cheat me, Achilles?’ answered the angry Agamemnon.
‘Wouldst thou rob me of my prize and give me naught instead? If thou
wilt not give me the reward my honour seeks, then will I seize it for
myself--be it thine, or that of Odysseus, or the spoil of any other;
wroth will be he to whomsoever I come. But of this hereafter. Now let
us launch a black ship on the sea, and in it embark Chryseïs of the
fair cheeks, and with her send an offering of beasts, that Apollo the
Far-Darter may have his sacrifice.’
Then Achilles, with black brows, looked at Agamemnon.
‘Shameless art thou!’ he cried, ‘shameless and crafty. For thy sake and
that of Menelaus thy brother left I my home and fared across the seas
to fight in Troyland. And now thou, dog-face! dost threaten to steal
from me the spoil that I have won for myself by weary toil and by hard
fighting. Home will I go, for I have no mind to fight for one who is
greedy for riches and wealth, and cares not if I am dishonoured.’
‘Flee, then, if thou wilt,’ answered Agamemnon. ‘Others I have as
brave as thee, and ready to do me honour. Most hateful art thou to me,
Achilles. Ever thou lovest strife and wars and fightings. I care not
for thee and thy wrath; and this I tell thee: to thy hut I myself will
go and take from thee Briseis, fairest of all thy slaves, that thou
may’st know that I, Agamemnon, am thy lord and ruler.’
Mad with anger was Achilles at these words. His hand gripped his sword,
and he would have slain Agamemnon, had not the goddess Athene stayed
his hand.
‘Why art thou come hither?’ angrily asked Achilles, as he looked round
and beheld the goddess at his side. ‘Art thou come to see the insolence
of Agamemnon? Yea, I tell thee, through pride shall he lose his life.’
Gently then did Athene speak to him.
‘To stay thine anger I came from far Olympus,’ said she. ‘Goodly gifts
shall come to thee hereafter, Achilles. Only stay thine hand and listen
to me.’
Then said Achilles:
‘Goddess, a man must needs listen to thee and do thy bidding, for the
man who obeys the immortal gods will also be heard of them.’
Therewith did he grip his sword by its silver hilt and thrust it back
into its sheath; yet again he spoke in wrath to Agamemnon.
‘Thou with face of a dog and heart of a deer,’ he said, ‘never hast
thou fought as men should fight for the spoil! Rather dost thou seize
the booty for which thy men have risked their lives. Surely these thy
warriors are weaklings, else this should have been thy last wrong. But
this I swear by my sceptre which was once a tree, but never more shall
put forth leaf or twig; as surely as that sceptre shall never again be
green, so surely shall the Greeks one day long for Achilles when they
fall in heaps dying before the manslaying Hector. Then shalt thou tear
thy heart for anger, for that thou didst not honour the bravest of thy
warriors.’
So spake Achilles, and dashed on earth his sceptre, studded with golden
nails, while near him sat Agamemnon, in furious anger.
With gentle words then spoke Nestor, an old warrior of a hundred years
and more, longing to make peace.
But of peace Agamemnon and Achilles would have none.
‘Ye may take back my slave, the fair Briseis,’ said Achilles. ‘The
Greeks gave her to me; let the Greeks take her from me again. Yet that
moment that thou dost dare to lay hand on aught else of mine, thy dark
blood shall gush about my spear.’
Then was the assembly at an end, and on a fleet ship Chryseïs of the
fair cheeks was placed, and with her were sent a hundred beasts for
a sacrifice to Apollo. With them went Odysseus and a goodly company,
and they sailed across the sea to Chryse, to bring back to Chryses the
priest his fair daughter, and to offer a worthy sacrifice to the angry
god.
Then did Agamemnon call his heralds to him.
‘Go ye to the tent of Achilles,’ said he, ‘and bring me Briseis, his
fair slave.’
Unwillingly they walked along the beach to where the tent of Achilles
was pitched. By it he sat, and well, and with a heavy heart, he knew
when he saw them what their errand was.
‘Welcome, ye heralds,’ he said. ‘Ye are not guilty in my sight. Guilty
only is Agamemnon who sent you to rob me of the fair Briseis. Lead her
away, yet be witnesses that when Agamemnon hath sore need of me to save
his host from shameful wreck, no help from me shall he have.’
Unwillingly Briseis was led away, and Achilles watched her go.
Then sitting alone on the beach of the grey sea, Achilles wept.
With eager gaze his eyes swept across the waste of water, and holding
out his hands in supplication he cried to his mother, Thetis the
silver-footed, daughter of the King of the Sea.
Like a mist Thetis rose from the depths of the green sea-waves, and
came to her sorrowing son.
Gently she stroked his hand, and spoke to him soothing words.
‘Why dost thou weep, my child?’ she said. ‘Tell me all the sorrow that
is in thy heart.’
To his goddess-mother Achilles told the tale of the grievous dishonour
that Agamemnon had done to him, and for rage and for grief Thetis wept
with her son.
‘Short is to be thy life, my son,’ she said. ‘Would that I had never
borne thee, rather than that it should also be full of grief.’
Then did she leave him, but at dawn next day she rose from the sea and
mounted up to Olympus.
‘Father Zeus,’ she said to the king of the gods, ‘if ever I have given
thee aid amid gods or men, fulfil now my desire. Do honour to my son,
whose life on earth is to be so short. Grant victory to the Trojans
while Achilles does not draw his sword. Grant that at last the Greeks
may do honour to him to whom Agamemnon hath brought such bitter shame.’
Then did Zeus bow his head and grant her prayer.
And Thetis the silver-footed darted like a diving bird down from
Olympus, and cleft the green waves as she went back to her father in
his kingdom under the sea.