AUTHORS OF GREECE
By the Reverend T. W. LUMB, M.A.
With an Introduction by
The Reverend CYRIL ALINGTON, D.D.
AUTHOR'S PREFACE
Greek literature is more modern in its tone than Latin or Medieval or
Elizabethan. It is the expression of a society living in an environment
singularly like our own, mainly democratic, filled with a spirit of
free inquiry, troubled by obstinate feuds and still more obstinate
problems. Militarism, nationalism, socialism and communism were well
known, the preachers of some of these doctrines being loud, ignorant
and popular. The defence of a maritime empire against a military
oligarchy was twice attempted by the most quick-witted people in history,
who failed to save themselves on both occasions. Antecedently then we
might expect to find some lessons of value in the record of a people
whose experiences were like our own.
Further, human thought as expressed in literature is not an
unconnected series of phases; it is one and indivisible. Neglect of
either ancient or modern culture cannot but be a maiming of that great
body of knowledge to which every human being has free access. No man
can be anything but ridiculous who claims to judge European literature
while he knows nothing of the foundations on which it is built.
Neither is it true to say that the ancient world was different from
ours. Human nature at any rate was the same then as it is now, and
human character ought to be the primary object of study. The strange
belief that we have somehow changed for the better has been strong
enough to survive the most devilish war in history, but few hold it
who are familiar with the classics.
Yet in spite of its obvious value Greek literature has been damned and
banned in our enlightened age by some whose sole qualification for the
office of critic often turns out to be a mental darkness about it so
deep that, like that of Egypt, it can be felt. Only those who know
Greek literature have any right to talk about its powers of survival.
The following pages try to show that it is not dead yet, for it has a
distinct message to deliver. The skill with which these neglected
liberators of the human mind united depth of thought with perfection
of form entitles them at least to be heard with patience.
CONTENTS
AUTHOR'S PREFACE.
HOMER
AESCHYLUS
SOPHOCLES
EURIPIDES
ARISTOPHANES
HERODOTUS
THUCYDIDES
PLATO
DEMOSTHENES
INTRODUCTION
I count it an honour to have been asked to write a short introduction
to this book. My only claim to do so is a profound belief in the
doctrine which it advocates, that Greek literature can never die and
that it has a clear and obvious message for us to-day. Those who sat,
as I did, on the recent Committee appointed by Mr. Lloyd George when
Prime Minister to report on the position of the classics in this
country, saw good reason to hope that the prejudice against Greek to
which the author alludes in his preface was passing away: it is a
strange piece of irony that it should ever have been encouraged in the
name of Science which owes to the Greeks so incalculable a debt. We
found that, though there are many parts of the country in which it is
almost impossible for a boy, however great his literary promise, to be
taught Greek, there is a growing readiness to recognise this state of
affairs as a scandal, and wherever Greek was taught, whether to girls
or boys, we found a growing recognition of its supreme literary value.
There were some at least of us who saw with pleasure that where only
one classical language can be studied there is an increasing readiness
to regard Greek as a possible alternative to Latin.
On this last point, no doubt, classical scholars will continue to
differ, but as to the supreme excellence of the Greek contribution to
literature there can be no difference of opinion. Those to whom the
names of this volume recall some of the happiest hours they have spent
in literary study will be grateful to Mr. Lumb for helping others to
share the pleasures which they have so richly enjoyed; he writes with
an enthusiasm which is infectious, and those to whom his book comes as
a first introduction to the great writers of Greece will be moved to
try to learn more of men whose works after so many centuries inspire
so genuine an affection and teach lessons so modern. They need have no
fear that they will be disappointed, for Mr. Lumb's zeal is based on
knowledge. I hope that this book will be the means of leading many to
appreciate what has been done for the world by the most amazing of all
its cities, and some at least to determine that they will investigate
its treasures for themselves. They will find like the Queen of Sheba
that, though much has been told them, the half remains untold.
C. A. ALINGTON.
HOMER
Greek literature opens with a problem of the first magnitude. Two
splendid Epics have been preserved which are ascribed to "Homer", yet
few would agree that Homer wrote them both. Many authorities have
denied altogether that such a person ever existed; it seems certain
that he could not have been the author of both the _Iliad_ and the
_Odyssey_, for the latter describes a far more advanced state of
society; it is still an undecided question whether the _Iliad_ was
written in Europe or in Asia, but the probability is that the
_Odyssey_ is of European origin; the date of the poems it is very
difficult to gauge, though the best authorities place it somewhere in
the eighth century B.C. Fortunately these difficulties do not
interfere with our enjoyment of the two poems; if there were two
Homers, we may be grateful to Nature for bestowing her favours so
liberally upon us; if Homer never existed at all, but is a mere
nickname for a class of singer, the literary fraud that has been
perpetrated is no more serious than that which has assigned
Apocalyptic visions of different ages to Daniel. Perhaps the Homeric
poems are the growth of many generations, like the English parish
churches; they resemble them as being examples of the exquisite
effects which may be produced when the loving care and the reverence
of a whole people blend together in different ages pieces of artistic
work whose authors have been content to remain unnamed.
It is of some importance to remember that the Iliad is not the story
of the whole Trojan war, but only of a very small episode which was
worked out in four days. The real theme is the Wrath of Achilles. In
the tenth year of the siege the Greeks had captured a town called
Chryse. Among the captives were two maidens, one Chryseis, the
daughter of Chryses, a priest of Apollo, the other Briseis; the former
had fallen to the lot of Agamemnon, the King of the Greek host, the
latter to Achilles his bravest follower. Chryses, father of Chryseis,
went to Agamemnon to ransom his daughter, but was treated with
contumely; accordingly he prayed to the god to avenge him and was
answered, for Apollo sent a pestilence upon the Greeks which raged for
nine days, destroying man and beast. On the tenth day the chieftains
held a counsel to discover the cause of the malady. At it Chalcas the
seer before revealing the truth obtained the promise of Achilles'
protection; when Agamemnon learned that he was to ransom his captive,
his anger burst out against the seer and he demanded another prize in
return. Achilles upbraided his greed, begging him to wait till Troy
was taken, when he would be rewarded fourfold. Agamemnon in reply
threatened to take Achilles' captive Briseis, at the same time
describing his follower's character. "Thou art the most hateful to me
of all Kings sprung of Zeus, for thou lovest alway strife and wars and
battles. Mighty though thou art, thy might is the gift of some god.
Briseis I will take, that thou mayest know how far stronger I am than
thou, and that another may shrink from deeming himself my equal,
rivalling me to my face." At this insult Achilles half drew his sword
to slay the King, but was checked by Pallas Athena, who bade him
confine his resentment to taunts, for the time would come when
Agamemnon would offer him splendid gifts to atone for the wrong.
Obeying the goddess Achilles reviled his foe, swearing a solemn oath
that he would not help the Greeks when Hector swept them away. In vain
did Nestor, the wise old counsellor who had seen two generations of
heroes, try to make up the quarrel, beseeching Agamemnon not to
outrage his best warrior and Achilles not to contend with his leader.
The meeting broke up; Achilles departed to his huts, whence the
heralds in obedience to Agamemnon speedily carried away Briseis.
Going down to the sea-shore Achilles called upon Thetis his mother to
whom he told the story of his ill-treatment. In deep pity for his fate
(for he was born to a life of a short span), she promised that she
would appeal to Zeus to help him to his revenge; she had saved Zeus
from destruction by summoning the hundred-armed Briareus to check a
revolt among the gods against Zeus' authority. For the moment the king
of the gods was absent in Aethiopia; when he returned to Olympus on
the twelfth day she would win him over. Ascending to heaven, she
obtained the promise of Zeus' assistance, not without raising the
suspicions of Zeus' jealous consort Hera; a quarrel between them was
averted by their son Hephaestus, whose ungainly performance of the
duties of cupbearer to the Immortals made them forget all resentments
in laughter unquenchable.
True to his promise Zeus sent a dream to Agamemnon to assure him that
he would at last take Troy. The latter determined to summon an
Assembly of the host. In it the changeable temper of the Greeks is
vividly pictured. First Agamemnon told how he had the promise of
immediate triumph; when the army eagerly called for battle, he spoke
yet again describing their long years of toil and advising them to
break up the siege and fly home, for Troy was not to be taken. This
speech was welcomed with even greater enthusiasm than the other, the
warriors rushing down to the shore to launch away. Aghast at the
coming failure of the enterprise Athena stirred up Odysseus to check
the mad impulse. Taking from Agamemnon his royal sceptre as the sign
of authority, he pleaded with chieftains and their warriors, telling
them that it was not for them to know the counsel in the hearts of
Kings.
"We are not all Kings to bear rule here. 'Tis not good to have many
Lords; let there be one Lord, one King, to whom the crooked-counselling
son of Cronos hath given the rule."
Thus did Odysseus stop the flight, bringing to reason all save
Thersites, "whose heart was full of much unseemly wit, who talked
rashly and unruly, striving with Kings, saying what he deemed would
make the Achaeans smile".
He continued his chatter, bidding the Greeks persist in their homeward
flight. Knowing that argument with such an one was vain, Odysseus laid
his sceptre across his back with such heartiness that a fiery weal
started up beneath the stroke. The host praised the act, the best of
the many good deeds that Odysseus had done before Troy.
When the Assembly was stilled, Odysseus and Nestor and Agamemnon told
the plan of action; the dream bade them arm for a mighty conflict, for
the end could not be far off, the ten years' siege that had been
prophesied being all but completed. The names of the various
chieftains and the numbers of their ships are found in the famous
catalogue, a document which the Greeks treasured as evidence of united
action against a common foe. With equal eagerness the Trojans poured
from their town commanded by Hector; their host too has received from
Homer the glory of an everlasting memory in a detailed catalogue.
Literary skill of a high order has brought upon the scene as quickly
as possible the chief figures of the poem. When the armies were about
to meet, Paris, seeing Menelaus whom he had wronged, shrank from the
combat. On being upbraided by Hector who called him "a joy to his foes
and a disgrace to himself", Paris was stung to an act of courage.
Hector's heart was as unwearied as an axe, his spirit knew not fear;
yet beauty too was a gift of the gods, not to be cast away. Let him be
set to fight Menelaus in single combat for Helen and her wealth; let
an oath be made between the two armies to abide by the result of the
fight, that both peoples might end the war and live in peace.
Overjoyed, Hector called to the Greeks telling them of Paris' offer,
which Menelaus accepted. The armies sat down to witness the fight,
while Hector sent to Troy to fetch Priam to ratify the treaty.
In Troy the elders were seated on the wall to watch the conflict,
Priam among them. Warned by Iris, Helen came forth to witness the
single combat. As she moved among them the elders bore their testimony
to her beauty; its nature is suggested but not described, for the poet
felt he was unable to paint her as she was.
"Little wonder," they exclaimed, "that the Trojans and Achaeans
should suffer woe for many a year for such a woman. She is marvellous
like the goddesses to behold; yet albeit she is so fair let her depart
in the ships, leaving us and our little ones no trouble to come."
Seeing her, Priam bade her sit by him and tell the names of the Greek
leaders as they passed before his eyes. Agamemnon she knew by his
royal bearing, Odysseus who moved along the ranks like a ram she
marked out as the master of craft and deep counsel. Hearing her words,
Antenor bore his witness to their truth, for once Odysseus had come
with Menelaus to Troy on an embassy.
"When they stood up Menelaus was taller, when they sat down Odysseus
was more stately. But when they spake, Menelaus' words were fluent,
clear but few; Odysseus when he spoke, fixed his eyes on the ground,
turning his sceptre neither backwards nor forward, standing still
like a man devoid of wit; one would have deemed him a churl and a very
fool; yet when he sent forth his mighty voice from his breast in words
as many as the snowflakes, no other man could compare with him."
Helen pointed out Ajax and Idomeneus and others, yet could not see her
two brothers, Castor and Pollux; either they had not come from her
home in Sparta, or they had refused to fight, fearing the shame and
reproach of her name. "So she spake, yet the life-giving earth covered
them there, even in Sparta, their native land."
When the news came to Priam of the combat arranged between Paris and
Menelaus, the old King shuddered for his son, yet he went out to
confirm the compact. Feeling he could not look upon the fight, he
returned to the city. Meanwhile Hector had cast lots to decide which
of the two should first hurl his spear. Paris failed to wound his
enemy, but Menelaus' dart pierced Paris' armour; he followed it up
with a blow of his sword which shivered to pieces in his hand. He then
caught Paris' helmet and dragged him off towards the Greek army; but
Aphrodite saved her favourite, for she loosed the chin-strap and bore
Paris back to Helen in Troy. Menelaus in vain looked for him among the
Trojans who were fain to see an end of him, "and would not have hidden
him if they had seen him". Agamemnon then declared his brother the
victor and demanded the fulfilment of the treaty.
Such an end to the siege did not content Hera, whose anger against the
Trojans was such that she could have "devoured raw Priam and his
sons". With Zeus' consent she sent down Pallas Athena to confound the
treaty. Descending like some brilliant and baleful star the goddess
assumed the shape of Laodocus and sought out the archer Pandarus. Him
she tempted to shoot privily at Menelaus to gain the favour of Paris.
While his companions held their shields in front of him the archer
launched a shaft at his victim, but Athena turned it aside so that it
merely grazed his body, drawing blood. Seeing his brother wounded
Agamemnon ran to him, to prophesy the certain doom of the treaty
breakers.
"Not in vain did we shed the blood of compact and offer the pledges
of a treaty. Though Zeus hath not fulfilled it now, yet he will at
last and they will pay dear with their lives, they, their wives and
children. Well I know in my heart that the day will come when sacred
Troy will perish and Priam and his folk; Zeus himself throned on high
dwelling in the clear sky will shake against them all his dark aegis
in anger for this deceit."
While the leeches drew out the arrow from the wound, Agamemnon went
round the host with words of encouragement or chiding to stir them up
to the righteous conflict. They rushed on to battle to be met by the
Trojans whose host
"knew not one voice or one speech; their language was mixed, for they
were men called from many lands."
In the fight Diomedes, though at first wounded by Pandarus, speedily
returned refreshed and strengthened by Athena. His great deeds drew
upon him Pandarus and Aeneas, the son of Aphrodite and the future
founder of Rome's greatness. Diomedes quickly slew Pandarus and when
Aeneas bestrode his friend's body, hurled at him a mighty stone which
laid him low. Afraid of her son Aphrodite cast her arms about him and
shrouded him in her robe. Knowing that she was but a weak goddess
Diomedes attacked her, wounding her in the hand. Dropping her son, she
fled to Ares who was watching the battle and besought him to lend her
his chariot, wherein she fled back to Olympus. There her mother Dione
comforted her with the story of the woes which other gods had suffered
from mortals.
"But this man hath been set upon thee by Athena. Foolish one, he
knoweth not in his heart that no man liveth long who fighteth with
the gods; no children lisp 'father' at his knees when he returneth
from war and dread conflict. Therefore, albeit he is so mighty, let
him take heed lest a better than thou meet him, for one day his
prudent wife shall wail in her sleep awaking all her house, bereft
of her lord, the best man of the Achaeans."
But Athena in irony deemed that Aphrodite had been scratched by some
Greek woman whom she caressed to tempt her to forsake her husband and
follow one of the Trojans she loved.
Aeneas when dropped by his mother had been picked up by Apollo; when
Diomedes attacked the god, he was warned that battle with an immortal
was not like man's warfare. Stirred by Apollo, Ares himself came to
the aid of the Trojans, inspiring Sarpedon the Lycian to hearten his
comrades, who were shortly gladdened by the return of Aeneas whom
Apollo had healed. At the sight of Ares and Apollo fighting for Troy
Hera and Athena came down to battle for the Greeks; they found
Diomedes on the skirts of the host, cooling the wound Pandarus had
inflicted. Entering his chariot by his side, Athena fired him to meet
Ares and drive him wounded back to Olympus, where he found but little
compassion from Zeus. The two goddesses then left the mortals to fight
it out.
At this moment Helenus, the prophetic brother of Hector, bade him go
to Troy to try to appease the anger of Athena by an offering, in the
hope that Diomedes' progress might be stayed. In his absence Diomedes
met in the battle Glaucus, a Lycian prince.
"Who art thou?" he asked. "I have never seen thee before in battle,
yet now thou hast gone far beyond all others in hardihood, for thou
hast awaited my onset, and they are hapless whose sons meet my
strength. If thou art a god, I will not fight with thee; but if thou
art one of those who eat the fruit of the earth, come near, that
thou mayest the quicker get thee to the gates of death."
In answer, Glaucus said:
"Why askest thou my lineage? As is the life of leaves, so is that of
men. The leaves are scattered some of them to the earth by the wind,
others the wood putteth forth when it is in bloom, and they come on
in the season of spring. Even so of men one generation groweth,
another ceaseth."
He then told how he was a family friend of Diomedes and made with him
a compact that if they met in battle they should avoid each the other;
this they sealed by the exchange of armour, wherein the Greek had the
better, getting gold weapons for bronze, the worth of a hundred oxen
for the value of nine.
Coming to Troy Hector bade his mother offer Athena the finest robe she
had; yet all in vain, for the goddess rejected it. Passing to the
house of Paris, he found him polishing his armour, Helen at his side.
Again rebuking him, he had from him a promise that he would be ready
to re-enter the fight when Hector had been to his own house to see his
wife Andromache. Hector's heart foreboded that it was the last time he
would speak with her. She had with her their little son Astyanax.
Weeping she besought him to spare himself for her sake.
"For me there will be no other comfort if thou meetest thy doom, but
sorrow. Father and mother have I none, for Achilles hath slain them
and my seven brothers. Hector, thou art my father and my lady mother
and my brother and thou art my wedded husband. Nay, come, pity me and
abide on the wall, lest thou make thy son an orphan and thy wife a
widow."
He answered, his heart heavy with a sense of coming death:
"The day will come when Troy shall fall, yet I grieve not for father
or mother or brethren so much as for thee, when some Achaean leads
thee captive, robbing thee of thy day of freedom. Thou shalt weave at
the loom in Argos or perchance fetch water, for heavy necessity shall
be laid upon thee. Then shall many a one say when he sees thee shedding
tears: 'Lo, this is the wife of Hector who was the best warrior of the
Trojans when they fought for their town.' Thus will they speak and thou
shalt have new sorrow for lack of such a man to drive away the day of
slavery."
He stretched out his arms to his little son who was affrighted at the
sight of the helmet as it nodded its plumes dreadfully from its tall
top. Hector and Andromache laughed when they saw the child's terror;
then Hector took off his helmet and prayed that the boy might grow to
a royal manhood and gladden his mother's heart. Smiling through her
tears, Andromache took the child from Hector, while he comforted her
with brave words.
"Lady, grieve not overmuch, I beseech thee, for no man shall thrust me
to death beyond my fate. Methinks none can avoid his destiny, be he
brave or a coward, when once he hath been born. Nay, go to the house,
ply thy tasks and bid the maids be busy, but war is the business of
the men who are born in Troy and mine most of all."
Thus she parted from him, looking back many a time, shedding plenteous
tears. So did they mourn for Hector even before his doom, for they
said he would never escape his foes and come back in safety.
Finding Paris waiting for him, Hector passed out to the battlefield.
Aided by Glaucus he wrought great havoc, so much that Athena and
Apollo stirred him to challenge the bravest of the Greeks. The victor
was to take the spoils of the vanquished but to return the body for
burial. At first the Greeks were silent when they heard his challenge,
ashamed to decline it and afraid to take it up. At last eight of their
bravest cast lots, the choice falling upon Ajax. A great combat ended
in the somewhat doubtful victory of Ajax, the two parting in
friendship after an exchange of presents. The result of the fighting
had discouraged both sides; the Greeks accordingly decided to throw up
a mound in front of their ships, protected by a deep trench. This
tacit confession of weakness in the absence of Achilles leads up to
the heavy defeat which was to follow. On the other side the Trojans
held a council to deliver up Helen. When Paris refused to surrender
her but offered to restore her treasures, a deputation was sent to
inform the Greeks of his decision. The latter refused to accept either
Helen or the treasure, feeling that the end was not far off. That
night Zeus sent mighty thunderings to terrify the besiegers.
So far the main plot of the _Iliad_ has been undeveloped; now that the
chief characters on both sides have played a part in the war, the poem
begins to show how the wrath of Achilles works itself out under Zeus'
direction. First the king of the gods warned the deities that he would
allow none to intervene on either side and would punish any offender
with his thunders. Holding up the scales of doom, he placed in them
the lot of Trojans and of Greeks; as the latter sank down, he hurled
at their host his lightnings, driving all the warriors in flight to
the great mound they had built. For a time Teucer the archer brother
of Ajax held them back, but when he was smitten by a mighty stone
hurled of Hector all resistance was broken. A vain attempt was made by
Hera and Athena to help the Greeks, but the goddesses quailed before
the punishment wherewith Zeus threatened them. When night came the
Trojans encamped on the open plain, their camp-fires gleaming like the
stars which appear on some night of stillness.
Disheartened at his defeat, Agamemnon freely acknowledged his fault
and suggested flight homewards. Nestor advised him to call an Assembly
and depute some of the leading men to make up the quarrel with
Achilles. The King listened to him, offering to give Achilles his own
daughter in wedlock, together with cities and much spoil of war. Three
ambassadors were chosen, Phoenix, Ajax and Odysseus. Reaching
Achilles' tent, they found him singing lays of heroes, Patroclus his
friend by his side. When he saw the ambassadors, he gave them a
courtly welcome. Odysseus laid the King's proposals before him, to
which Achilles answered with dignity.
"I hate as sore as the gates of Death a man who hideth one thing in
his heart and sayeth its opposite. Do the sons of Atreus alone of
men love their wives? Methinks all the wealth which Troy contained
before the Greeks came upon it, yea all the wealth which Apollo holds
in rocky Pytho, is not the worth of life itself. Cattle and horses
and brazen ware can be got by plunder, but a man's life cannot be
taken by spoil nor recovered when once it passeth the barrier of his
teeth. Nay, go back to the elders and bid them find a better plan
than this. Let Phoenix abide by me here that he may return with me
to-morrow in my ships if he will, for I will not constrain him by
force."
Phoenix had been Achilles' tutor. In terror for the safety of the
Greek fleet, he appealed to his friend to relent.
"How can I be left alone here without thee, dear child? Thy father
sent me to teach thee to be a speaker of words and a doer of deeds.
In thy childhood I tended thee, for I knew that I should never have a
son and I looked to thee to save me from ruin. Tame thy great spirit.
Even the gods know how to change, whose honour is greater, and their
power. Men in prayer turn them by sacrifice when any hath sinned and
transgressed. For Prayers are the daughters of great Zeus; they are
halt and wrinkled and their eyes look askance. Their task it is to go
after Ruin; for Ruin is strong and sound of foot, wherefore she far
outrunneth them all and getteth before them in harming men over all the
world. But they come after; whosoever honoureth the daughters of Zeus
when they come nigh, him they greatly benefit and hear his entreaties,
but whoso denieth them and stubbornly refuseth, they go to Zeus and ask
that Ruin may dog him, that he may be requited with mischief. Therefore,
Achilles, bring it to pass that honour follow the daughters of Zeus,
even that honour which bendeth the heart of others as noble as thou."
When this appeal also failed, Ajax, a man of deeds rather than words,
deemed it best to return at once, begging Achilles to bear them no
ill-will and to remember the rights of hospitality which protected
them from his resentment. When Achilles assured them of his regard for
them and maintained his quarrel with Agamemnon alone, they departed
and brought the heavy news to their anxious friends. On hearing it
Diomedes briefly bade them get ready for the battle and fight without
Achilles' help.
When the Trojan host had taken up its quarters on the plain, Nestor
suggested that the Greeks should send one of their number to find out
what Hector intended to do on the morrow. Diomedes offered to
undertake the office of a spy, selecting Odysseus as his comrade.
After a prayer to Athena to aid them, they went silently towards the
bivouac. It chanced that Hector too had thought of a similar plan and
that Dolon had offered to reconnoitre the Greek position. He was a
wealthy man, ill-favoured to look upon, but swift of foot, and had
asked that his reward should be the horses and the chariot of
Achilles.
Hearing the sound of Dolon's feet as he ran, Diomedes and Odysseus
parted to let him pass between them; then cutting off his retreat they
closed on him and captured him. They learned how the Trojan host was
quartered; at the extremity of it was Rhesus, the newly arrived
Thracian King, whose white horses were a marvel of beauty and
swiftness. In return for his information Dolon begged them to spare
his life, but Diomedes deemed it safer to slay him. The two Greeks
penetrated the Thracian encampment, where they slew many warriors and
escaped with the horses back to the Greek armament.
When the fighting opened on the next day, Agamemnon distinguished
himself by deeds of great bravery, but retired at length wounded in
the hand. Zeus had warned Hector to wait for that very moment before
pushing home his attack. One after another the Greek leaders were
wounded, Diomedes, Odysseus, Machaon; Ajax alone held up the Trojan
onset, retiring slowly and stubbornly towards the sea. Achilles,
seeing the return of the wounded warrior Machaon, sent his friend
Patroclus to find out who he was. Nestor meeting Patroclus, told him
of the rout of the army, and advised him to beg Achilles at least to
allow the Myrmidons to sally forth under Patroclus' leadership, if he
would not fight in person. The importance of this episode is
emphasised in the poem. The dispatch of Patroclus is called "the
beginning of his undoing", it foreshadows the intervention which was
later to bring Achilles himself back into the conflict.
The Trojan host after an attempt to drive their horses over the trench
stormed it in five bodies. As they streamed towards the wall, an omen
of a doubtful nature filled Polydamas with some misgivings about the
wisdom of bursting through to the sea. It was possible that they might
be routed and that they would accordingly be caught in a trap, leaving
many of their dead behind them. His advice to remain content with the
success they had won roused the anger of Hector, whose headstrong
character is well portrayed in his speech.
"Thou biddest me consider long-winged birds, whereof I reck not nor
care for them whether they speed to right or left. Let us obey the
counsel of Zeus. One omen is the best, to fight for our country. Why
dost thou dread war and tumult? Even if all we others were slain at
the ships, there is no fear that thou wilt perish, for thy heart
cannot withstand the foe and is not warlike. But if thou holdest from
the fight or turnest another from war, straightway shalt thou lose
thy life under the blow of my spear."
Thus encouraged the army pressed forward, the walls being pierced by
the Lycian King Sarpedon, a son of Zeus. Taking up a mighty stone,
Hector broke open the gate and led his men forward to the final
onslaught on the ships.
For a brief space Zeus turned his eyes away from the conflict and
Poseidon used the opportunity to help the Greeks. Idomeneus the Cretan
and his henchman Meriones greatly distinguished themselves, the former
drawing a very vivid picture of the brave man.
"I know what courage is. Would that all the bravest of us were being
chosen for an ambush, wherein a man's bravery is most manifest. In
it the coward and the courageous man chiefliest appear. The colour of
the one changeth and his spirit cannot be schooled to remain stedfast,
but he shifteth his body, settling now on this foot now on that; his
heart beateth mightily, knocking against his breast as he bodeth death,
and his teeth chatter. But the good man's colour changeth not, nor is
he overmuch afraid when once he sitteth in his place of ambush; rather
he prayeth to join speedily in the dolorous battle."
Yet soon Idomeneus' strength left him; Hector hurried to the centre of
the attack, where he confronted Ajax.
At this point Hera determined to prolong the intervention of Poseidon
in favour of the Greeks. She persuaded Aphrodite to lend her all her
spells of beauty on the pretence that she wished to reconcile Ocean to
his wife Tethys. Armed with the goddess' girdle, she lulled Zeus to
sleep and then sent a message to Poseidon to give the Greeks his
heartiest assistance. Inspired by him the fugitives turned on their
pursuers; when Ajax smote down Hector with a stone the Trojans were
hurled in flight back through the gate and across the ramparts.
When Zeus awakened out of slumber and saw the rout of the Trojans, his
first impulse was to punish Hera for her deceit. He then restored the
situation, bidding Poseidon retire and sending Apollo to recover
Hector of his wound. The tide speedily turned again; the Trojans
rushed through the rampart and down to the outer line of the Greek
ships, where they found nobody to resist them except the giant Ajax
and his brother Teucer. After a desperate fight in which Ajax
single-handed saved the fleet, Hector succeeded in grasping the ship
of Protesilaus and called loud for fire. This was the greatest measure
of success vouchsafed him; from this point onwards the balance was
redressed in favour of the Greeks.
Achilles had been watching the anguish of Patroclus' spirit when this
disaster came upon their friends.
"Why weepest thou, Patroclus, like some prattling little child who
runneth to her mother and biddeth her take her up, catching at her
garment and checking her movement and gazing at her tearfully till
she lifteth her? Even so thou lettest fall the big tears."
Patroclus begged his friend to allow him to wear his armour and lead
the Myrmidons out to battle, not knowing that he was entreating for
his own ruin and death. After some reluctance Achilles gave him leave,
yet with the strictest orders not to pursue too far. Fresh and eager
for the battle the Myrmidons drove the Trojans back into the plain.
Patroclus' course was challenged by the Lycians, whose King Sarpedon
faced him in single combat. In great sorrow Zeus watched his son
Sarpedon go to his doom; in his agony he shed tear-drops of blood and
ordered Death and Sleep to carry the body back to Lycia for burial.
The great glory Patroclus had won tempted him to forget his promise to
Achilles. He pursued the Trojans back to the walls of the town,
slaying Cebriones the charioteer of Hector. In the fight which took
place over the body Patroclus was assailed by Hector and Euphorbus
under the guidance of Apollo. Hector administered the death-blow;
before he died Patroclus foretold a speedy vengeance to come from
Achilles.
A mighty struggle arose over his body. Menelaus slew Euphorbus, but
retreated at the approach of Hector, who seized the armour of Achilles
and put it on. A thick cloud settled over the combatants, heightening
the dread of battle. The gods came down to encourage their respective
warriors; the Greeks were thrust back over the plain, but the bravery
of Ajax and Menelaus enabled the latter to save Patroclus' body and
carry it from the dust of battle towards the ships.
When the news of his friend's death came to Achilles his grief was so
mighty that it seemed likely that he would have slain himself. He
burst into a lamentation so bitter that his mother heard him in her
sea-cave and came forth to learn what new sorrow had taken him. Too
late he learned the hard lesson that revenge may be sweet but is
always bought at the cost of some far greater thing.
"I could not bring salvation to Patroclus or my men, but sit at the
ships a useless burden upon the land, albeit I am such a man as no
other in war, though others excel me in speech. Perish strife from
among men and gods, and anger which inciteth even a prudent man to
take offence; far sweeter than dropping honey it groweth in a man's
heart like smoke, even now as Agamemnon hath roused me to a fury."
Being robbed of his armour he could not sally out to convey his
companion's body into the camp. Hera therefore sent Iris to him
bidding him merely show himself at the trenches and cry aloud. At the
sound of his thrice-repeated cry the Trojans shrank back in terror,
leaving the Greeks to carry in Patroclus' body unmolested; then Hera
bade the sun set at once into the ocean to end the great day of
battle.
Polydamas knew well what the appearance of Achilles portended to the
Trojans, for he was the one man among them who could look both before
and after; his advice was that they should retire into the town and
there shut themselves up. It was received with scorn by Hector. In the
Greek camp Achilles burst into a wild lament over Patroclus, swearing
that he would not bury him before he had brought in Hector dead and
twelve living captives to sacrifice before the pyre. That night his
mother went to Hephaestus and persuaded him to make divine armour for
her son, which the poet describes in detail.
On receiving the armour from his mother Achilles made haste to
reconcile himself with Agamemnon. His impatience for revenge and the
oath he had taken made it impossible for him to take any food. His
strength was maintained by Athena who supplied him with nectar. On
issuing forth to the fight he addressed his two horses:
"Xanthus and Balius, bethink you how ye may save your charioteer
when he hath done with the battle, and desert him not in death as
ye did Patroclus."
In reply they prophesied his coming end.
"For this we are not to blame, but the mighty god - and violent Fate.
We can run quick as the breath of the North wind, who men say is
the swiftest of all, but thy fate it is to die by the might of a
god and a man."
The Avenging Spirits forbade them to reveal more. The awe of the
climax of the poem is heightened by supernatural interventions. At
last the gods themselves received permission from Zeus to enter the
fray. They took sides, the shock of their meeting causing the nether
deity to start from his throne in fear that his realm should collapse
about him. Achilles met Aeneas and would have slain him had not
Poseidon saved him. Hector withdrew before him, warned by Apollo not
to meet him face to face. Disregarding the god's advice he attacked
Achilles, but for the moment was spirited away. Disappointed of his
prey Achilles sowed havoc among the lesser Trojans.
Choked by the numerous corpses the River-God Scamander begged him
cease his work of destruction. When the Hero disregarded him, he
assembled all his waters and would have overwhelmed him but for Athena