The Tale of Troy

by Roger Green

  ‘Now then, fair ladies!’ he cried. ‘Come and take your choice! There are gifts for all of you – a poor return for all King Lycomedes's kindness to us merchants.’

  The maidens gathered round, and began fingering and trying on the brooches and jewelled belts, snoods and other trifles. But the maiden Pyrrha lighted upon a sword which was somehow mixed up with all the feminine gewgaws and trumperies, and fingered it longingly. Suddenly a martial trumpet sounded just outside the door, and there was a cry from Diomedes and a clash of weapons. The maidens screamed, and turned to fly, but Pyrrha snatched up the sword, flung off cloak and robe and stood forth to do battle – Achilles revealed in all his young strength and daring.

  ‘Ah-ha!’ cried Odysseus. ‘Up, son of mighty Peleus and come with us to Troy. No more can guileful Thetis conceal you here; come, and show your metal, and bring honour to your father who in olden days stood beside Heracles, the greatest of heroes!’

  So Achilles made haste to collect his troops, and left behind him Princess Deidamia whom he had married in secret, and their young son Neoptolemus. Soon he and his Myrmidons arrived at Aulis; and with him came his cousin Patroclus, some years older than he was, but already his dearest friend.

  Now everything seemed ready for the expedition to set out, and Calchas offered up a great sacrifice to the Immortals. While all the chiefs were gathered together round the altar, a blue snake with red markings darted suddenly from beneath the stone, climbed to the top-most branch of a plane-tree which stood close by and there devoured eight baby sparrows in their nest, finishing off by eating the mother-sparrow also. Having done this, the snake was turned immediately into stone.

  ‘An omen!’ cried Calchas. ‘An omen from Zeus! He has shown us this sign, late come, of late fulfilment, the fame of which shall never perish. For even as the snake swallowed the eight baby sparrows and then the parent bird, so shall we war against Troy for nine years: but in the tenth year we shall take that wide-wayed city.’

  Then the great fleet set sail, with Agamemnon in command of the whole army, and Odysseus, Diomedes and Palamedes as seconds in command, while Achilles was admiral of the fleet. Nestor, the old hero of Pylos, was Agamemnon's chief adviser; and he took heed of his words even more readily than those of the wise Odysseus.

  Achilles did not prove a very satisfactory Admiral, for he led the fleet so badly that they landed in Mysia, several hundred miles south of Troy. Then, thinking that they had reached their journey's end, they set to work to ravage the country and burn down the villages, at which Telephus, King of Mysia, who was a son of Heracles, gathered his army together and chased the Greeks back to their ships. Unfortunately for himself, he tripped over a vine and was wounded in the thigh by Achilles.

  The Greeks, realizing their mistake, set sail again: but a fearful storm broke upon them, and drove them back towards Greece, scattering the fleet far and wide.

  When at length he came to land, Agamemnon found that he and a large portion of the fleet had been driven to his own homeland of Argolis so he returned to Mycenae while his ships were repaired, and sent messengers bidding the other heroes assemble once more at Aulis the following spring.

  Meanwhile King Telephus was suffering so sorely from his wound, which showed no sign of healing, that he consulted an oracle, and was told ‘Only the wounder can heal!’ Accordingly he set out for Greece, disguised as a beggar, and came to Mycenae where many of the leaders were assembled. Clytemnestra hospitably offered him a place by the fireside, and there he suddenly seized Orestes, the baby son of the King and Queen of Mycenae, from his cradle, and cried:

  ‘I am Telephus, King of Mysia, whom you wronged! If you will cure me of my wound, and swear that no harm shall befall me, I will guide your fleet to Troy. But if you attempt to kill me, I will slay this young prince.’

  Then Agamemnon swore the required oath, and Achilles cured Telephus of his wound with the aid of the magic spear which had inflicted it.

  Now, with a trustworthy pilot assured, the Greeks assembled once more at Aulis and made ready for the invasion of Troy. But a dead calm lay over all the sea for day after day, and sail they could not. At last the prophet Calchas arose and said:

  ‘King Agamemnon, the Immortal Artemis has caused this calm, to punish you for boasting that you were a better shot than she is. And you will never sail to Troy until you sacrifice to her your daughter Iphigenia.’

  Agamemnon was filled with grief, and at first wished to abandon the whole expedition. But presently he changed his mind and sent Odysseus to fetch Iphigenia.

  ‘Tell my wife, Queen Clytemnestra,’ he said, ‘that Iphigenia is to come here as a bride. Say that Achilles wishes to marry her, and will not set sail for Troy until after the wedding.’

  Believing this, Clytemnestra set out herself with her daughter and arrived at the Greek camp. Here she met Achilles, and greeted him as her future son-in-law: but he was amazed, for not only had he heard nothing of the matter, but was already married to Deidamia.

  Very soon Clytemnestra discovered Agamemnon's shameful trick and failing to turn him from his purpose, she begged Achilles to save Iphigenia. Full of indignation against Agamemnon, Achilles agreed to do so; but what was his consternation when he discovered that Calchas had spread abroad his prophecy, and all the army, including the Myrmidons themselves, were clamouring for the sacrifice to be carried out.

  To the reproaches of Clytemnestra and the terrified prayers of Iphigenia, Agamemnon answered sadly and bitterly:

  ‘I am no madman, nor have I ceased to love my children. This is a fearful thing, yet I must do it. Unless this sacrifice is made, so Calchas assures me, we can never reach Troy: and all the Greeks are burning to smite the foe. If Paris goes unpunished for the theft of Helen, they believe that the Trojans will come to Greece and steal more women – steal their wives – steal you and our daughters. I do not bow to the will of Menelaus: it is not merely to bring back Helen that we go. But I do bow to the will of all Greece, and bow I must whether I will it or not – for Greece is greater far than any personal sorrow. We live for her, to guard her freedom.’

  Clytemnestra would still have struggled against it, and Achilles offered to fight single-handed, but Iphigenia rose to the sacrifice:

  ‘I have chosen death,’ she said, ‘I choose honour. With me rests the freedom of our beloved land, the honour of our women through many years to come. My death will save them – and my name will be blessed as the name of one who freed Greece from fear and slavery.’

  So Iphigenia, hailed by the army as the true conqueror of Troy, went steadfastly to her death.

  But Immortal Artemis took pity on her youth and on her great courage. As the knife was actually falling and the fire was already kindled, she snatched her away and set a doe in her place.

  After that the wind rose strongly from the west, and that great armada set out joyfully in the direction of Troy.

  CHAPTER 5

  THE SIEGE OF TROY

  *

  Paint with threads of gold and scarlet, paint the battles fought for me,

  All the wars for Argive Helen; storm and sack by land and sea;

  All the tales of loves and sorrows that have been and are to be.

  Paint the storms of ships and chariots, rain of arrows flying far,

  Paint the waves of warfare leaping up at beauty like a star,

  Like a star that pale and trembling hangs above the waves of war.

  ANDREW LANG

  The World's Desire

  5

  The Greek fleet did not come to Troy without adventures on the way, even this time when the winds were favourable and the sea was calm. Before landing at Troy they put in to the little island of Tenedos a few miles from the coast, to wait while ambassadors were sent to King Priam, and as they came ashore there they had a brush with the inhabitants, and Achilles killed their chief, Tenes, who was the son of Apollo. Achilles knew then that he must expect the anger of that Immortal Archer, for Thetis had warned him what might
happen: but the only person to suffer at the time was Philoctetes, the man who had lit the funeral pyre of Heracles on Mount Oeta, and who still carried the bow and deadly arrows, dipped in the blood of the Hydra, which the dying Hero had given to him. Philoctetes was bitten in the ankle by a snake which crept out from under the altar when the kings were sacrificing to Apollo; and the sore did not heal, and grew so noisome that the other men could not endure the stench of it, nor the cries of the wretched sufferer. So Agamemnon ordered Odysseus to take Philoctetes to the desert island of Lemnos and maroon him there. And there Philoctetes remained nearly ten years, living on the birds and beasts which he managed to shoot with his bow and arrows.

  Menelaus and Odysseus then landed near Troy itself as ambassadors, and marched inland to the city which stood several miles from the shore.

  The Trojans received them coldly, but Prince Antenor, cousin of King Priam, made them welcome in his house. Next day, in the assembly of all the Trojan lords and princes, Menelaus and Odysseus asked for Helen to be restored, suitable fines to be paid and hostages given; and they said that if this were done, the Greeks would sail away in peace.

  The Trojans admired the broad shoulders and kingly aspect of Menelaus, and still more the wonderful voice and the persuasive words of Odysseus, though he was below medium height and made no flourishes with his hands when he spoke. But Antimachus, who had been bribed by Paris, urged the Trojans to keep Helen, and to kill both the envoys; and murdered they would have been, had not Antenor saved them, and got them quickly out of the city.

  When they returned to the fleet with their news, the Greeks were filled with rage at the insolence of the Trojans, and decided to land at once and teach them a sharp lesson.

  So the fleet drew in towards the beach, and the Trojans came rushing down in thousands to oppose their landing. Achilles was about to leap ashore to deal the first blow in the war, but Calchas held him back:

  ‘There is an oracle,’ he cried, ‘which says that the first to land is the first to be slain – and we cannot afford to lose you, son of Thetis!’

  Then, while the Greeks hesitated, brave Protesilaus, son of Iphiclus the Argonaut, cried:

  ‘Heroes of Hellas, follow me! To die in glory is to live for ever on the lips of men!’

  So saying, he leapt ashore, and after slaying many Trojans, fell at the hands of mighty Hector, bravest of the sons of Priam. Over the sides of their ships poured the rest of the Greeks, and a tremendous battle was fought that day in which many fell.

  For a time the Greeks were held at bay by Cycnus, the invulnerable son of Poseidon, who killed numbers of them. Achilles rushed to meet him, but found that even the spear which Chiron had cut for him could not pierce the unwoundable Cycnus. Then he slashed at him with his sword, but once more in vain.

  ‘No weapon can pierce me!’ laughed Cycnus. But even as he spoke Achilles dashed him in the face with his shield, made him give ground, and tripped him dextrously. Then he seized his fallen foe and exerting his great strength he strangled him with the straps of his own helmet. But Poseidon saw the fate of his son, and bearing his body swiftly away he turned him into a snow-white swan.

  When the Trojans knew that Cycnus was slain, they fled back into Troy town and barred the gates; nor would they venture out again for many along day.

  So the Greeks made their great encampment all round the city, and laid siege to it. But Troy was so large and the Trojans, both within its walls and in the country round about, were so strong, that the Greeks could not blockade it completely, and the Trojans never suffered the full hardships of a long siege. They had plenty of water: they could always get food, and from time to time reinforcements won their way into the city.

  Failing to take Troy by storm or siege, the Greeks enlivened their ten-year campaign by over-running the country round and sacking the other cities under Trojan rule or in league with them.

  The years dragged by in this way; city after city was besieged, attacked and finally destroyed, but few notable deeds were done of which any record survives.

  One event which has grown with the telling concerned one of Priam's sons called Troilus. It is said that he loved the daughter of the traitor-prophet Calchas who was still in Troy, and that their love prospered, thanks to the girl's uncle, Pandarus. But Calchas, being certain that Troy would fall, persuaded Agamemnon to exchange the girl for an important prisoner. Troilus was heart-broken, but consoled himself with the vows of eternal love and faith which he and his beloved had exchanged – until he discovered that, the moment she arrived in the Greek camp, the faithless girl transferred her affections to Diomedes.

  When Calchas announced that Troy would never fall if Troilus reached the age of twenty, determined efforts were made to kill him. Finally Achilles surprised him in the sanctuary of Apollo on Mount Ida, and slew him mercilessly.

  Not long after this Achilles marched against Aeneas who, although he had been with Paris when Helen was carried off, had taken no part in the war. Achilles attacked his stronghold on Mount Ida, after driving away all his cattle, and Aeneas only escaped by the help of Aphrodite, and so made his way into Troy.

  In the ninth year of the war, Palamedes met his end mysteriously. Though not much of a warrior, he had earned the gratitude of the Greek soldiers by inventing games for them to play during the long, weary siege – both draughts and dice were credited to his ingenious mind.

  One day the dead body of a Trojan spy was discovered and on it was a letter from Priam to Palamedes saying: ‘The gold which I have sent to you is the reward for betraying the Greeks to me.’

  Palamedes was brought before Agamemnon, and denied having received gold from Priam, or from anyone else. But when a search was made of his tent, treasure was discovered buried under it.

  That was the end of Palamedes: he was condemned to death, and was stoned or drowned when out fishing. When sentence was passed on him, he cried: ‘Truth, I mourn for you: I am about to die, but you have perished before me!’

  His brother Oeax believed that he was really innocent, and that Odysseus and Diomedes had forged the letter and hidden the gold, with the help of Agamemnon himself. So he sent a message to his father King Nauplius, accusing the Greek leaders of murdering Palamedes; and Nauplius, though unable to take vengeance while they were still at Troy, prepared for them an unpleasant welcome on their return to Greece.

  But meanwhile, in the beginning of the tenth year of the war, a great quarrel broke out among the Greek leaders themselves, due to the pride and insolence of King Agamemnon.

  Not long before, Achilles had captured two maidens named Chryseis and Briseis, the first of whom was the daughter of a priest of Apollo, and sacred to that Immortal. Agamemnon, as lord over the lesser kings of the Greek host, divided up all spoils of conquest – and usually kept the best for himself. On this occasion he gave Briseis to Achilles as a handmaiden, but kept Chryseis, and when her father came to beg him to give back the girl, drove him away with harsh and impious words.

  Apollo's priest prayed to Apollo for aid, and that Immortal Lord of the Silver Bow came down in anger from Olympus and discharged several of his deadly Arrows of Pestilence into the Greek camp.

  As usual when anything occurred which was obviously the work of some angered Immortal, Agamemnon and the other kings consulted Calchas, and he, having secured the protection of Achilles, turned on the ‘King of Men’, and declared:

  ‘Apollo has smitten us because you, King Agamemnon, did not harken to the prayer of his priest; and will not remove this loathsome pestilence from the Greeks until you return Chryseis to her father – with a great gift as compensation.’

  Agamemnon was furiously angry: ‘You vile seer!’ he cried. ‘Never yet have you told me anything pleasant: all your prophecies are of evil, and I am the one who has to suffer for them!’

  Nevertheless he was forced to give up Chryseis; but because Achilles had promised to protect Calchas from his rage, Agamemnon turned on him and took away Briseis to replace his own
lost handmaiden.

  Then it was Achilles who lost his temper: ‘You shameless, crafty, grasping wretch!’ he began. ‘You dog-faced cheat! Was it for this that we followed you from Greece and have obeyed you all these years? Well, I for one have had enough of it, and I am minded to sail away with all my men and ships before you rob me of the few spoils that are still mine.’

  ‘Flee if you like!’ shouted Agamemnon. ‘I will make no attempt to hinder you, nor to beg you to remain! There are many to stand by me and treat me with the honour which is my due. Go home, you coward, and lord it over your Myrmidons: I shall be well rid of you!’

  Mad with rage, Achilles set his hand to his sword, meaning to draw it and slay Agamemnon there and then. But Athena was watching, and she drew near quickly, invisible to all but Achilles, and caught him by his golden hair.

  ‘Achilles!’ she said, and her eyes shone terribly. ‘I come to you from the high place of the Immortals to stay your anger. Harken to me, for I am sent by Hera, the white-armed Queen of Olympus, who loves you both equally, and would not have the blood of either of you spilt in civil strife. Therefore fight only with words, if fight you must, and then retire to your tents: for I promise you that honour and good things are reserved for you in threefold measure.’

  Achilles bowed to the will of the wise Immortal; but he turned upon Agamemnon and said:

  ‘Listen, you drunken, dog-faced, deer-hearted coward, who has never once dared to lead the Greeks in battle, or to lie in ambush with the other princes of Hellas! I swear, by this staff which shall never more grow in the earth nor bring forth green leaves, that however much you may long for my aid when the Greeks fall before manslaying Hector, I will not raise a finger to help you, until my own ships are in danger!’