Bulfinch's Mythology: The Age of Fable

Ch. 20: 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 most beautiful." 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 favor.

Paris decided in favor 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 s*x. She had been sought as a bride by

numerous suitors, and before her decision was made known, they

all, at the suggestion of Ulysses, 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 slope 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 endeavored 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,

Diomedes, 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 neighbors.

But the principal stay and support of his throne was his son

Hector, one of the noblest characters painted by heathen

antiquity. Hector 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, the moment

represented in our engraving:

"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 sharp 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

panted 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

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 neighboring 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 favored them. Venus enlisted her

admirer Mars on the same side, but Neptune favored 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 Ulysses, 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, favored 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 ardor to

such a pitch that they forced the Trojans to give way. Ajax

performed prodigies of valor, 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, seeing 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 and 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 dispatched 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.

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 hm at least send his soldiers to the field, and come thou,

Patroclus, clad in his armor, 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; Diomedes, Ulysses, 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

armor that he might thereby strike more terror into the minds of

the Trojans. Without delay the soldiers were marshalled,

Patroclus put on the radiant armor 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 ardor 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 reechoed the acclaim. The Trojans, at the

sight of the well-known armor, struck with terror, looked every

where 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 valor. 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

armor; but Jove would not allow the remains of his son to be

dishonored, 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 decended 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 armor was at once taken possession of by Hector, who,

retiring a short distance, divested himself of his own armor 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 fortune,

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 dispatch 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, oh, give us day."

Cowper.

Or, as rendered by Pope,

"Lord of earth and air!

Oh, king! Oh, 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 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 armor, and

promised him, if he would but wait till the morrow, she would

procure for him a suit of armor 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 armor for Achilles, first a shield

adorned with elaborate devices, then a helmet crested with gold,

then a corslet 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 Petroclus was at the sight of this splendid armor. 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 his 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 armor flashing

lighting 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, secured 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 armor 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 armor, 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.

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.

When 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 treasures 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 hy 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 neighbor chief oppresses him, and there is none at

hand to succor 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 has reached this place

conducted by some god, for without divine aid no mortal even in

the 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 honors Ilium to her hero paid,

And peaceful slept the mighty Hector's shade."

Pope's Homer