Stories from the Iliad

by H. L. Havell

The Attack on the Grecian Camp

The Greeks were now driven back upon their defences, and a furious struggle ensued for the possession of the walls. The battle was no longer a succession of duels, such as we have witnessed hitherto, but a desperate contest for life and death, in which high and low, nobles and commons, had to take their share. As before, Hector took the lead, and tried to force his way across the moat, and up the steep slope on the other side, which was topped by a wall of stone, and a stiff fence of palisades. Again and again he rushed at the yawning moat in his car, but each time his horses refused the leap, and stood neighing and trembling, with their hoofs planted at the brink.

At last, perceiving that he was wasting his strength to no purpose, he changed his method of attack, and leaving his car in charge of a squire prepared to lead the assault on foot. Some time was lost while he was collecting a picked body of men to follow him, and instructing them how to proceed; and while he was taking his measures, Asius, a captain of the allies, made a bold attempt to carry the Greek position at a single blow. Disregarding Hector's orders, he remained in his chariot, called to his troop to keep close behind him, and drove rapidly round the line of the wall, looking for a weak point where he might hope to force an entrance. He succeeded beyond his hopes; for on the extreme left of the camp he found a gate which was still open to admit any stragglers who might have been left behind in the flight of the Greeks. With a shout of triumph he drove straight at the open gateway, with all his company following pell-mell. But just as he was about to cross the portals he found himself confronted by a pair of gigantic brothers, who stood like two mighty oaks deep-rooted on a mountain top, ready to dispute the way. They were well supported by the defenders who lined the walls, and a hail of stones and javelins rattled down on the shields of Asius and his men, who were driven back with loss and compelled to retire out of range. The gates were then closed and barred, and for this time the camp was saved.

Meanwhile the Trojans under Hector's command were still hesitating on the brink of the moat. For a strange portent had occurred, which gave them pause, just as they were rushing to the assault. On the left hand of the army they saw an eagle soaring high in the air, holding a huge serpent in his talons, which writhed and struggled to escape. And indeed the eagle had met his match, for suddenly the serpent drew back his head, and darting forward bit his captor in the breast. The eagle gave a scream of pain, and dropping the serpent, which fell in the midst of the Trojans, flew swiftly away.

All stood amazed, and doubt and fear crept into their hearts when they saw the monster writhing at their feet. At last Polydamas, a warrior who was famed for his skill in augury, turned to Hector, and said: "My prince, the sign is against us; and as the eagle was stricken, when he strove to carry the dappled snake to his young, so shall we also be stricken, if we persist in our assault on the Grecian stronghold. Let us draw off our men, lest we be found fighting against the gods, and bring upon ourselves rout and disaster."

"Polydamas," answered Hector, with bended brows, "if thou hast no better counsel than this thou hadst better hold thy peace, for the gods have marred thy wit. Vain man! knowest thou not that we came hither under a sure promise from Zeus? Are we to obey his voice, or shall we be cowed by the flapping of a wing? What care I for any fowl that flies east or west, while I stand under the favour of heaven's high lord? To the patriot all omens are good, when his country summons him to her defence. A truce to thine idle prate! Thou hast naught to fear, whether we fight or fly, for thou art never seen on the perilous edge of battle. But keep thy cold counsels for thine own coward heart, or I will find means to lock thy lips for ever."

Thereupon he sprang forward towards the wall, and all his men followed, raising a deafening shout. And from the glens of Ida there came a rushing mighty wind, which bore a blinding cloud of dust into the faces of the Greeks, and hindered them in the work of defence. The Trojans had now crossed the moat, and were striving with all their force to break down the wall. Some tugged at the battlements, and tried to pull them down, while others brought levers to overthrow the projecting buttresses. On the other side the Greeks fought stubbornly, making a fence with their shields along the line of the wall, and keeping up a shower of javelins and stones.

Foremost in the defence were the greater and lesser Ajax, who hurried up and down the battlements, encouraging, rebuking, and threatening. "Stand fast!" they cried. "This is no time for flinching. Let every man do his part, whether he be weak or strong. Your lives are in your own hands."

As on a winter day, when Zeus has lulled the winds to sleep, and all the air is thick with flying snowflakes, until mountain top and jutting promontory, green field and black ploughland, level shore and rocky bay, are all hidden under the same dazzling mantle, whose fringe touches the cold, grey sea—so thick flew the missiles on either side, rattling down uninterruptedly on battlement and helmet and shield.

Conspicuous among the allies of the Trojans were Glaucus and Sarpedon, the leaders of the Lycians. They were bosom friends, of one heart and one mind; and the night before they had discoursed earnestly together on the duties and privileges of their rank. The words of Sarpedon on this occasion are ever memorable. "I need not tell thee, Glaucus," he said, "why we twain are honoured above all the rest with the highest seats, the costliest fare, and cups ever full, and why a fair domain of corn-land and olive ground and vineyard was set apart for us on the banks of Xanthus. As we have received freely, so freely must we give, sparing not even our heart's blood in the service of those to whom we owe all we have. Let us be no sluggard kings, first in the feast and last in the fray, but, as we are foremost in privilege, so let us be foremost in peril. Man walketh as a vain shadow, and all his steps are encompassed by death; die he must, ere many days are passed—herein he hath no choice—but, unless he hath the soul of a slave, he will choose death with honour."

Acting in the spirit of these noble words, Sarpedon, with Glaucus at his side, and all the chivalry of Lycia at his back, now made a determined attack on the part of the wall where Menestheus, the captain of the Athenians, was directing the defence. Menestheus, feeling that he was ill provided to sustain the onset of these two famous captains, raised his voice to summon Ajax to his succour; but his cry was drowned by the tremendous din of the battle which was raging around him, and the thundering blows which the Trojans were now raining upon the gates. So he sent an urgent message by a herald, begging Ajax to come to his relief. Ajax responded promptly to the call, and joined the men under Menestheus, bringing with him Teucer, his half-brother, who was now sufficiently recovered from his wound to take part in the defence.

On came the storming party, with Sarpedon at their head, and they were already beginning to swarm up the battlements, when the arrival of Teucer and Ajax gave them a check. Lifting up a ponderous stone, which he found lying loose by the wall, Ajax dashed out the brains of a stout Lycian, whose knee was already on the rampart, and down he toppled, plunging headforemost, like a diver, into the moat; and at the same moment a lucky shot from Teucer's bow struck Glaucus in the arm. Incensed to see his comrade wounded, Sarpedon redoubled his efforts, and grasping one of the battlements with both hands he wrenched it from its place, and sent it crashing to the ground. But, being fiercely attacked by Ajax and Teucer together, he was compelled to draw back a little, and wait for support. "On, Lycians!" he shouted. "Why loiter ye behind? I cannot win the wall alone."

The Lycians rallied to the voice of their prince, and the battle was renewed with fresh fury on both sides. Up the steep bank they swarmed again, and strove with all their might to drive back the defenders from their battlements. But the Greeks would not yield an inch, and besiegers and besieged held their ground stubbornly in that grim controversy, like two farmers who stand, with measuring-lines in their hands, disputing hotly about a few inches of ground, on the boundaries of their fields—or like an honest labouring woman, who holds the scale in even balance, weighing the wool which she has spun to win a scanty wage wherewith to buy her children bread.[[1]] So in even balance hung the fray, and many were the wounds given and received in back or in breast, until the battlements ran with blood.

[[1]] The yarn is weighed to show that none of the raw wool has been stolen.

But the chief honour of the day was reserved for Hector, who was the first to set foot within the fortress of the Greeks. While the battle was still raging on the wall, he made his way to the main entrance of the camp, which was defended by stout oaken gates, fast closed with massy bolt and bar. In front of the gates lay a huge stone, such as two men could hardly lift in these less heroic days. Lifting the mighty boulder, he carried it, easily as a shepherd carries a fleece, close up to the gates. Then, planting his feet firmly, he heaved that ponderous mass above his head, and flung. Like a thunderbolt flew the enormous missile, dashing through panel and bolt and bar. The gates, torn from their hinges, fell inward, and over the ruins sprang Hector, with brow black as night, and death in his glance. Terribly gleamed his brazen armour as he leapt upon the foe, with a lance in each hand. None save the gods could have dared to face him in that hour of triumph and victory. The Trojans poured in behind him, or leapt down from the wall, now deserted by the panic-stricken Greeks, who fled with one accord to the shelter of their ships.