Tales of Troy: Ulysses the Sacker of Cities

A >> Andrew Lang >> Tales of Troy: Ulysses the Sacker of Cities


Now in the next battle Paris was shooting down the Greeks with his
arrows, when Philoctetes saw him, and cried: "Dog, you are proud of your
archery and of the arrow that slew the great Achilles. But, behold, I am
a better bowman than you, by far, and the bow in my hands was borne by
the strong man Heracles!" So he cried and drew the bowstring to his
breast and the poisoned arrowhead to the bow, and the bowstring rang, and
the arrow flew, and did but graze the hand of Paris. Then the bitter
pain of the poison came upon him, and the Trojans carried him into their
city, where the physicians tended him all night. But he never slept, and
lay tossing in agony till dawn, when he said: "There is but one hope.
Take me to OEnone, the nymph of Mount Ida!"

Then his friends laid Paris on a litter, and bore him up the steep path
to Mount Ida. Often had he climbed it swiftly, when he was young, and
went to see the nymph who loved him; but for many a day he had not trod
the path where he was now carried in great pain and fear, for the poison
turned his blood to fire. Little hope he had, for he knew how cruelly he
had deserted OEnone, and he saw that all the birds which were disturbed
in the wood flew away to the left hand, an omen of evil.

At last the bearers reached the cave where the nymph OEnone lived, and
they smelled the sweet fragrance of the cedar fire that burned on the
floor of the cave, and they heard the nymph singing a melancholy song.
Then Paris called to her in the voice which she had once loved to hear,
and she grew very pale, and rose up, saying to herself, "The day has come
for which I have prayed. He is sore hurt, and has come to bid me heal
his wound." So she came and stood in the doorway of the dark cave, white
against the darkness, and the bearers laid Paris on the litter at the
feet of OEnone, and he stretched forth his hands to touch her knees, as
was the manner of suppliants. But she drew back and gathered her robe
about her, that he might not touch it with his hands.

Then he said: "Lady, despise me not, and hate me not, for my pain is more
than I can bear. Truly it was by no will of mine that I left you lonely
here, for the Fates that no man may escape led me to Helen. Would that I
had died in your arms before I saw her face! But now I beseech you in
the name of the Gods, and for the memory of our love, that you will have
pity on me and heal my hurt, and not refuse your grace and let me die
here at your feet."

Then OEnone answered scornfully: "Why have you come here to me? Surely
for years you have not come this way, where the path was once worn with
your feet. But long ago you left me lonely and lamenting, for the love
of Helen of the fair hands. Surely she is much more beautiful than the
love of your youth, and far more able to help you, for men say that she
can never know old age and death. Go home to Helen and let her take away
your pain."

Thus OEnone spoke, and went within the cave, where she threw herself down
among the ashes of the hearth and sobbed for anger and sorrow. In a
little while she rose and went to the door of the cave, thinking that
Paris had not been borne away back to Troy, but she found him not; for
his bearers had carried him by another path, till he died beneath the
boughs of the oak trees. Then his bearers carried him swiftly down to
Troy, where his mother bewailed him, and Helen sang over him as she had
sung over Hector, remembering many things, and fearing to think of what
her own end might be. But the Trojans hastily built a great pile of dry
wood, and thereon laid the body of Paris and set fire to it, and the
flame went up through the darkness, for now night had fallen.

But OEnone was roaming in the dark woods, crying and calling after Paris,
like a lioness whose cubs the hunters have carried away. The moon rose
to give her light, and the flame of the funeral fire shone against the
sky, and then OEnone knew that Paris had died--beautiful Paris--and that
the Trojans were burning his body on the plain at the foot of Mount Ida.
Then she cried that now Paris was all her own, and that Helen had no more
hold on him: "And though when he was living he left me, in death we shall
not be divided," she said, and she sped down the hill, and through the
thickets where the wood nymphs were wailing for Paris, and she reached
the plain, and, covering her head with her veil like a bride, she rushed
through the throng of Trojans. She leaped upon the burning pile of wood,
she clasped the body of Paris in her arms, and the flame of fire consumed
the bridegroom and the bride, and their ashes mingled. No man could
divide them any more, and the ashes were placed in a golden cup, within a
chamber of stone, and the earth was mounded above them. On that grave
the wood nymphs planted two rose trees, and their branches met and
plaited together.

This was the end of Paris and OEnone.




HOW ULYSSES INVENTED THE DEVICE OF THE HORSE OF TREE


After Paris died, Helen was not given back to Menelaus. We are often
told that only fear of the anger of Paris had prevented the Trojans from
surrendering Helen and making peace. Now Paris could not terrify them,
yet for all that the men of the town would not part with Helen, whether
because she was so beautiful, or because they thought it dishonourable to
yield her to the Greeks, who might put her to a cruel death. So Helen
was taken by Deiphobus, the brother of Paris, to live in his own house,
and Deiphobus was at this time the best warrior and the chief captain of
the men of Troy.

Meanwhile, the Greeks made an assault against the Trojan walls and fought
long and hardily; but, being safe behind the battlements, and shooting
through loopholes, the Trojans drove them back with loss of many of their
men. It was in vain that Philoctetes shot his poisoned arrows, they fell
back from the stone walls, or stuck in the palisades of wood above the
walls, and the Greeks who tried to climb over were speared, or crushed
with heavy stones. When night fell, they retreated to the ships and held
a council, and, as usual, they asked the advice of the prophet Calchas.
It was the business of Calchas to go about looking at birds, and taking
omens from what he saw them doing, a way of prophesying which the Romans
also used, and some savages do the same to this day. Calchas said that
yesterday he had seen a hawk pursuing a dove, which hid herself in a hole
in a rocky cliff. For a long while the hawk tried to find the hole, and
follow the dove into it, but he could not reach her. So he flew away for
a short distance and hid himself; then the dove fluttered out into the
sunlight, and the hawk swooped on her and killed her.

The Greeks, said Calchas, ought to learn a lesson from the hawk, and take
Troy by cunning, as by force they could do nothing. Then Ulysses stood
up and described a trick which it is not easy to understand. The Greeks,
he said, ought to make an enormous hollow horse of wood, and place the
bravest men in the horse. Then all the rest of the Greeks should embark
in their ships and sail to the Isle of Tenedos, and lie hidden behind the
island. The Trojans would then come out of the city, like the dove out
of her hole in the rock, and would wander about the Greek camp, and
wonder why the great horse of tree had been made, and why it had been
left behind. Lest they should set fire to the horse, when they would
soon have found out the warriors hidden in it, a cunning Greek, whom the
Trojans did not know by sight, should be left in the camp or near it. He
would tell the Trojans that the Greeks had given up all hope and gone
home, and he was to say that they feared the Goddess Pallas was angry
with them, because they had stolen her image that fell from heaven, and
was called the Luck of Troy. To soothe Pallas and prevent her from
sending great storms against the ships, the Trojans (so the man was to
say) had built this wooden horse as an offering to the Goddess. The
Trojans, believing this story, would drag the horse into Troy, and, in
the night, the princes would come out, set fire to the city, and open the
gates to the army, which would return from Tenedos as soon as darkness
came on.

The prophet was much pleased with the plan of Ulysses, and, as two birds
happened to fly away on the right hand, he declared that the stratagem
would certainly be lucky. Neoptolemus, on the other hand, voted for
taking Troy, without any trick, by sheer hard fighting. Ulysses replied
that if Achilles could not do that, it could not be done at all, and that
Epeius, a famous carpenter, had better set about making the horse at
once.

Next day half the army, with axes in their hands, were sent to cut down
trees on Mount Ida, and thousands of planks were cut from the trees by
Epeius and his workmen, and in three days he had finished the horse.
Ulysses then asked the best of the Greeks to come forward and go inside
the machine; while one, whom the Greeks did not know by sight, should
volunteer to stay behind in the camp and deceive the Trojans. Then a
young man called Sinon stood up and said that he would risk himself and
take the chance that the Trojans might disbelieve him, and burn him
alive. Certainly, none of the Greeks did anything more courageous, yet
Sinon had not been considered brave.

Had he fought in the front ranks, the Trojans would have known him; but
there were many brave fighters who would not have dared to do what Sinon
undertook.

Then old Nestor was the first that volunteered to go into the horse; but
Neoptolemus said that, brave as he was, he was too old, and that he must
depart with the army to Tenedos. Neoptolemus himself would go into the
horse, for he would rather die than turn his back on Troy. So
Neoptolemus armed himself and climbed into the horse, as did Menelaus,
Ulysses, Diomede, Thrasymedes (Nestor's son), Idomeneus, Philoctetes,
Meriones, and all the best men except Agamemnon, while Epeius himself
entered last of all. Agamemnon was not allowed by the other Greeks to
share their adventure, as he was to command the army when they returned
from Tenedos. They meanwhile launched their ships and sailed away.

But first Menelaus had led Ulysses apart, and told him that if they took
Troy (and now they must either take it or die at the hands of the
Trojans), he would owe to Ulysses the glory. When they came back to
Greece, he wished to give Ulysses one of his own cities, that they might
always be near each other. Ulysses smiled and shook his head; he could
not leave Ithaca, his own rough island kingdom. "But if we both live
through the night that is coming," he said, "I may ask you for one gift,
and giving it will make you none the poorer." Then Menelaus swore by the
splendour of Zeus that Ulysses could ask him for no gift that he would
not gladly give; so they embraced, and both armed themselves and went up
into the horse. With them were all the chiefs except Nestor, whom they
would not allow to come, and Agamemnon, who, as chief general, had to
command the army. They swathed themselves and their arms in soft silks,
that they might not ring and clash, when the Trojans, if they were so
foolish, dragged the horse up into their town, and there they sat in the
dark waiting. Meanwhile, the army burned their huts and launched their
ships, and with oars and sails made their way to the back of the isle of
Tenedos.




THE END OF TROY AND THE SAVING OF HELEN


From the walls the Trojans saw the black smoke go up thick into the sky,
and the whole fleet of the Greeks sailing out to sea. Never were men so
glad, and they armed themselves for fear of an ambush, and went
cautiously, sending forth scouts in front of them, down to the seashore.
Here they found the huts burned down and the camp deserted, and some of
the scouts also caught Sinon, who had hid himself in a place where he was
likely to be found. They rushed on him with fierce cries, and bound his
hands with a rope, and kicked and dragged him along to the place where
Priam and the princes were wondering at the great horse of tree. Sinon
looked round upon them, while some were saying that he ought to be
tortured with fire to make him tell all the truth about the horse. The
chiefs in the horse must have trembled for fear lest torture should wring
the truth out of Sinon, for then the Trojans would simply burn the
machine and them within it.

But Sinon said: "Miserable man that I am, whom the Greeks hate and the
Trojans are eager to slay!" When the Trojans heard that the Greeks hated
him, they were curious, and asked who he was, and how he came to be
there. "I will tell you all, oh King!" he answered Priam. "I was a
friend and squire of an unhappy chief, Palamedes, whom the wicked Ulysses
hated and slew secretly one day, when he found him alone, fishing in the
sea. I was angry, and in my folly I did not hide my anger, and my words
came to the ears of Ulysses. From that hour he sought occasion to slay
me. Then Calchas--" here he stopped, saying: "But why tell a long tale?
If you hate all Greeks alike, then slay me; this is what Agamemnon and
Ulysses desire; Menelaus would thank you for my head."

The Trojans were now more curious than before. They bade him go on, and
he said that the Greeks had consulted an Oracle, which advised them to
sacrifice one of their army to appease the anger of the Gods and gain a
fair wind homewards. "But who was to be sacrificed? They asked Calchas,
who for fifteen days refused to speak. At last, being bribed by Ulysses,
he pointed to me, Sinon, and said that I must be the victim. I was bound
and kept in prison, while they built their great horse as a present for
Pallas Athene the Goddess. They made it so large that you Trojans might
never be able to drag it into your city; while, if you destroyed it, the
Goddess might turn her anger against you. And now they have gone home to
bring back the image that fell from heaven, which they had sent to
Greece, and to restore it to the Temple of Pallas Athene, when they have
taken your town, for the Goddess is angry with them for that theft of
Ulysses."

The Trojans were foolish enough to believe the story of Sinon, and they
pitied him and unbound his hands. Then they tied ropes to the wooden
horse, and laid rollers in front of it, like men launching a ship, and
they all took turns to drag the horse up to the Scaean gate. Children
and women put their hands to the ropes and hauled, and with shouts and
dances, and hymns they toiled, till about nightfall the horse stood in
the courtyard of the inmost castle.

Then all the people of Troy began to dance, and drink, and sing. Such
sentinels as were set at the gates got as drunk as all the rest, who
danced about the city till after midnight, and then they went to their
homes and slept heavily.

Meanwhile the Greek ships were returning from behind Tenedos as fast as
the oarsmen could row them.

One Trojan did not drink or sleep; this was Deiphobus, at whose house
Helen was now living. He bade her come with them, for he knew that she
was able to speak in the very voice of all men and women whom she had
ever seen, and he armed a few of his friends and went with them to the
citadel. Then he stood beside the horse, holding Helen's hand, and
whispered to her that she must call each of the chiefs in the voice of
his wife. She was obliged to obey, and she called Menelaus in her own
voice, and Diomede in the voice of his wife, and Ulysses in the very
voice of Penelope. Then Menelaus and Diomede were eager to answer, but
Ulysses grasped their hands and whispered the word "Echo!" Then they
remembered that this was a name of Helen, because she could speak in all
voices, and they were silent; but Anticlus was still eager to answer,
till Ulysses held his strong hand over his mouth. There was only
silence, and Deiphobus led Helen back to his house. When they had gone
away Epeius opened the side of the horse, and all the chiefs let
themselves down softly to the ground. Some rushed to the gate, to open
it, and they killed the sleeping sentinels and let in the Greeks. Others
sped with torches to burn the houses of the Trojan princes, and terrible
was the slaughter of men, unarmed and half awake, and loud were the cries
of the women. But Ulysses had slipped away at the first, none knew
where. Neoptolemus ran to the palace of Priam, who was sitting at the
altar in his courtyard, praying vainly to the Gods, for Neoptolemus slew
the old man cruelly, and his white hair was dabbled in his blood. All
through the city was fighting and slaying; but Menelaus went to the house
of Deiphobus, knowing that Helen was there.

In the doorway he found Deiphobus lying dead in all his armour, a spear
standing in his breast. There were footprints marked in blood, leading
through the portico and into the hall. There Menelaus went, and found
Ulysses leaning, wounded, against one of the central pillars of the great
chamber, the firelight shining on his armour.

"Why hast thou slain Deiphobus and robbed me of my revenge?" said
Menelaus. "You swore to give me a gift," said Ulysses, "and will you
keep your oath?" "Ask what you will," said Menelaus; "it is yours and my
oath cannot be broken." "I ask the life of Helen of the fair hands,"
said Ulysses "this is my own life-price that I pay back to her, for she
saved my life when I took the Luck of Troy, and I swore that hers should
be saved."

Then Helen stole, glimmering in white robes, from a recess in the dark
hall, and fell at the feet of Menelaus; her golden hair lay in the dust
of the hearth, and her hands moved to touch his knees. His drawn sword
fell from the hands of Menelaus, and pity and love came into his heart,
and he raised her from the dust and her white arms were round his neck,
and they both wept. That night Menelaus fought no more, but they tended
the wound of Ulysses, for the sword of Deiphobus had bitten through his
helmet.

When dawn came Troy lay in ashes, and the women were being driven with
spear shafts to the ships, and the men were left unburied, a prey to dogs
and all manner of birds. Thus the grey city fell, that had lorded it for
many centuries. All the gold and silver and rich embroideries, and ivory
and amber, the horses and chariots, were divided among the army; all but
a treasure of silver and gold, hidden in a chest within a hollow of the
wall, and this treasure was found, not very many years ago, by men
digging deep on the hill where Troy once stood. The women, too, were
given to the princes, and Neoptolemus took Andromache to his home in
Argos, to draw water from the well and to be the slave of a master, and
Agamemnon carried beautiful Cassandra, the daughter of Priam, to his
palace in Mycenae, where they were both slain in one night. Only Helen
was led with honour to the ship of Menelaus.

The story of all that happened to Ulysses on his way home from Troy is
told in another book, "Tales of the Greek Seas."