Near the city of Troy, on a high mountain named Ida, there lived a young shepherd, Paris. No one but the gods knew the secret of Paris' royal birth. He had been left on Mount Ida when he was only a child because it had been told to his parents in prophecy that he would be the destruction of the kingdom and the ruin of his family. So Paris, all unknowing that he was a prince, had grown up among his flocks, as good to look upon as a young god and greatly beloved by all the hamadryads and nymphs of the woods and streams. It was at last decided that the shepherd Paris should be the judge as to which of the three goddesses, Juno, Minerva or Venus merited the apple of gold, and they descended in clouds of glory to Mount Ida and stood before him for his judgment.
They seemed to have forgotten their heavenly birth in their jealousy, for each offered the young shepherd a bribe if he would declare her the most fair. Juno offered Paris great wealth and one of the kingdoms of the earth. Minerva said that she would grant Paris as her boon a share of her wisdom and invincible power in war. But Venus, her unmatched beauty dazzling the youth as the bright rays of the noontide sun, and wearing her enchanted girdle, a spell that no one had ever been able to resist, laid her hand that was as light as sea-foam on Paris' fast beating heart.
"I will give you the loveliest woman in the world to be your wife," she said.
At Venus' words, Paris pronounced his judgment, which has never been forgotten through all the ages, ringing from singer to singer and from nation to nation in the great strife which it started. He put the apple of gold into the outstretched hands of Venus, not noticing that the cloud which carried the angry Juno and Minerva back to the sky was as black as when Jupiter was preparing to throw his thunderbolts.
Paris saw little after that except his own desires and ambitions, and Venus began at once feeding his vanity. She told him of his royal birth.
He was the son of King Priam of Troy. So Paris set out for his father's kingdom to find his fortune, and his flocks never saw him again.
Just at that time King Priam declared a contest of wrestling among the princes of his court and those of the neighboring kingdoms. On his way to Troy, Paris heard of this, and he also saw the prize being led toward Troy by one of the king's herdsmen. It was the finest bull to be found on all the grazing plains of Mount Ida, and Paris decided to enter the contest and see if he could not win it for himself. So Paris presented himself to the court at Troy and wrestled in the sight of the king and his brothers and his sister, Cassandra, who did not know him. And he threw all his opponents, and was proclaimed the victor.
He was greeted with joy, as King Priam recognized him, and was crowned with laurel. Only Cassandra, that sorrowful princess to whom the gods had given the fatal power of seeing coming events, wept as Paris was welcomed at the throne of his father. For Cassandra saw Paris as the destruction of Troy, and her gift of prophecy was her sadness, because she was doomed never to be believed.
Then Venus told Paris to demand a ship of King Priam and set sail for Sparta, in Greece, that her promise to him might be fulfilled. Paris set out, a wondrous appearing youth and a glorious victor, and he was well received by King Menelaus and his fair wife, Helen.
If Venus' beauty cast a spell among the gods, so did the loveliness of Helen blind the eyes of men to everything save her lovely face. There was a story told that Helen was the child of an enchanted swan and that this was the reason for the enchantment which she wrought in the hearts of the heroes. All the great princes of Greece had sued for Helen's hand, and when she left her home to be the wife of Menelaus, her father made the heroes bind themselves by oath to go to the aid of Menelaus if it should chance that she was ever stolen away from him. Helen's father was fearful for her peace, because of the perilous gift of charm which was hers. In all of Greece, and indeed in the entire world there was nothing so beautiful as Helen's fair face.
For a long time Paris remained at the court of Sparta treated with a courtesy and respect which he did not deserve, because during all that time Venus was enchanting Helen until she was able to think of no one save the comely youth, Paris. After awhile King Menelaus was obliged to take a long journey and in his absence Paris persuaded Helen to forsake Sparta and set sail with him for Troy.
When these two were discovered in their treachery, the heroes were fired with anger and remembered their pledge to go to King Menelaus' aid if any deep wrong was done to him. Their wrath was not so much directed against Helen, whom they believed to be under the dread spell which Venus had cast upon her, as against Paris who had so violated their hospitality. It was decided that preparations for war must be immediately begun and men were pressed into service everywhere gathering supplies and building ships. Agamemnon, who was a brother of King Menelaus and mighty in battle, was appointed to be the leader of the Greek army, and then began the work of finding the best men to help him in carrying on the great enterprise that was to be directed against Troy.
The heroes were as true and of as high courage then as they are to-day, but the adventure of the war was to be directed against a foreign shore and certain of the Greeks found that it tore their hearts to leave their own country, and in the cause of a wilful youth and a fair woman. One among these was Ulysses, the king of Ithaca.
Ulysses was content and happy in his peaceful kingdom and the love of his industrious queen, Penelope, and his baby son, Telemachus. We must not commit Ulysses to the sin of cowardice because he did not want to enlist for the Trojan war. There have been heroes like him in all time, destined to be the greatest warriors of all, when they overcame their fears and took swords in their hands in the cause of right. But at first Ulysses pretended that he had lost his reason. He borrowed a plough from a farmer and drove it up and down the seashore, sowing salt in the furrows that he made. Ulysses was pursuing this mad occupation when a messenger of Agamemnon came to demand his services in the army of the Greeks. The messenger could not believe his eyes, and to test Ulysses he grasped the king's little son and laid him on the sand in the direct path of the plough-share. Ulysses dropped the plough handles and lifted the baby Telemachus to his heart, so his game of madness was over. He bade his kingdom and Penelope farewell, and set out to join the heroes.
He was to be one of the bravest of them all, and doomed not to see his own land again for twenty years.
There was also a hero, a wonder of strength, who was detained from the war because of the very great love that his mother had for him. This was Achilles, who was destined to be the noblest hero of Greece in the contest with the Trojans. When he was a baby, Achilles' mother had taken him to the river Styx and, holding him by one little heel, had plunged him in its sacred waters. This made him safe from any harm that might come to him in battle, although she forgot the heel which she had covered with her hand. Then the mother of Achilles sent him to friends in a far kingdom in the dress of a girl and he was brought up there among women so that he could not be called to arms.
At this time, when the Greeks were polishing their shields and fastening on their swords for the advance upon Troy, news of Achilles' cowardly hiding came to Ulysses. He who had overcome his own fear could not bear to have any other hero fall a victim of cowardice. So Ulysses disguised himself as a vendor of fine wares, scents and embroidered silks, carved ivory ornaments and jewels, and he went to the kingdom where Achilles, now a youth, sojourned in the disguise of a maiden. The women of the court seized with the greatest delight the fine fabrics and necklaces from Ulysses' store, but Achilles delved in the packet of goods until his eyes lighted upon some strange and beautifully wrought weapons which Ulysses had brought also. These alone pleased him. So the destiny of Achilles was disclosed and he put on armor and went with Ulysses to join the army.
In the meantime King Priam had welcomed the erring Paris and Helen, so great was the charm that her fair face wrought everywhere, and had given them the shelter of his court. It was a sore trial to the heroes of Troy that this should have happened, for they were as bold and upright men in their way as the Greeks were, and had not deserved this shame that had come upon them. But they, too, were banded together to protect their king and so they made all the needful preparations to meet the forces of the enemy when the Greeks should cross the sea.
Since this great war had begun in the jealousy of the gods, the gods themselves took part in the struggle. Neptune carried the ships of the Greeks safely over to the plains of Troy where Ulysses accompanied King Menelaus into the city to demand the return of Helen. When King Priam refused, Venus endeavored to keep Helen in her power and she enlisted Mars on the side of the Trojans. Juno favored the Greeks, as did also Minerva, the goddess of just warfare, and Apollo and Jupiter watched over the fate of those of the heroes whom they loved, no matter on which side they fought.
So the Trojan war began, but how it ended is a story of a strange horse made all of wood.
HOW A WOODEN HORSE WON A CITY.
Ten years the siege of Troy lasted, that mighty struggle that had been kindled by the flame of jealousy of gods and men, and ten years the Trojans resisted the Greeks. On both sides the brave fell in battle and the plain outside of the city of Troy became a waste place, full of dread and death.
The hero Achilles, while offering up a sacrifice in the temple of Apollo, was treacherously slain by a poisoned arrow from Paris' bow that pierced his heel. The Greeks made use of the arrows of Hercules in their struggle, but even these proved useless against the strong fortifications of the Trojans. There was a statue of Minerva in the city of Troy called the Palladium. It was said to have fallen from heaven and that as long as it remained in the city Troy could not be taken. So the hero, Ulysses, with a few men, entered Troy in disguise and captured this statute at the risk of their lives, carrying it back to the camp of the Greeks, but Troy still held out and the tenth year of the war drew near a close full of wretchedness and famine.
It seemed as if the spell of Helen's beauty, as she leaned from one of the towers of King Priam's castle to cheer the Trojans or descended to pass among their ranks, was their safety. No one, looking on her fair face, remembered hardship or felt fear, although the fated Cassandra wept alone, and was deemed mad because she saw, in her prophetic vision, the fall of the strong battlements of Troy.
At last the Greeks despaired of ever subduing Troy by force and they asked Ulysses if any plan occurred to him by which they could subdue the Trojans through strategy. Ulysses unfolded a plan to the generals, and what it was and how it succeeded is one of the strangest stories of all warfare. Acting upon his advice, the Greeks made preparation to abandon the war. Their ships that had waited with folded sails in the harbor, now drew anchor and sailed swiftly away, taking refuge behind a neighboring island. And the Trojans, seeing the encampment before their walls broken for the first time in so many years, and the plain that the enemy's tents had whitened clear, broke into joy and merrymaking such as they had not known for so long. They forgot caution and opened the gates through which the men and women and children flocked out to the plain to make merry and exult over the defeat of the Greeks.
There they saw an astounding thing. In the centre of the plain stood a great wooden image of a horse, like an idol, more prodigious than any which the Trojans had ever seen. It was so closely fitted and carved from its mammoth hoofs to its head that no one could detect the joining.
A hundred men could have ridden the horse with room for more, but they would never have been able to climb up to its back. At first the people of Troy, gathering around the wooden horse, were afraid of it. Then they made up their minds about it.
"This is a trophy of war!" they exclaimed, and they were for moving it into the city to exhibit in the public square as a sign of their victory over the Greeks.
There was among them, though, a man named Laocoon, a priest of Neptune, who objected to this plan.
"Beware, men of Troy!" Laocoon warned them. "You have fought for ten years with the Greeks and know that they do not give up a fight as easily as this. How do you know but that this is a piece of trickery on the part of their dauntless leader, Ulysses? I fear the Greeks, even when they bring us gifts."
As Laocoon uttered these prophetic words, he threw his lance at the side of the wooden horse and it rebounded with a hollow sound. At that, perhaps the Trojans might have taken his advice and destroyed the horse there where it stood, but suddenly a man, who appeared to be a prisoner and a Greek, was dragged out from the crowd.
He said that he was a Greek, Sinon by name, who had brought upon himself the malice of Ulysses and so had been left behind by the Greeks. He feigned terror, and the Trojans, falling into the trap, reassured Sinon, the spy, and told him that his life would be spared if he would disclose to the chiefs of Troy the secret of the wooden horse.
"It is an offering to Minerva," Sinon explained. "The Greeks made it so huge in order that you would never be able to carry it inside the gates of Troy."
Sinon's words turned the tides of the people's feelings. They were just planning how they might best start the work of moving the giant horse when something happened which completely reassured them. Two immense serpents appeared advancing directly toward them over the sea. Side by side they moved toward the shore, their great heads erect, their burning eyes full of blood and fire and licking their hissing mouths with their quivering tongues. And these serpents came directly to the spot where Laocoon stood with his two sons.
They attacked the boys first, winding round their bodies and breathing their poisonous breath into their faces. Laocoon, trying to rescue his sons, was drawn into the serpent's coils and all three were strangled.
Then the creatures moved on, threatening to glide into the city of Troy.
"It is an omen of the displeasure of the gods with us for having even doubted the sacred character of the wooden horse," the Trojans said.
"Laocoon has been punished for his lack of reverence in despising it."
So they gave themselves up again to wild joy and reckless merrymaking.
They wreathed the horse with garlands of flowers and dragged it, all lending a hand, across the plain and close to the gates of the city so that they could widen them in the morning and push it through; and they went home with great shouts like those of a victoriously returning army.
That night a door, cunningly set and concealed in the side of the wooden horse, was opened by Sinon, the spy. Out of the door came the hero Ulysses, King Menelaus, and a band of picked Greek generals, for the Greeks had made the wooden horse hollow so that a hundred men might be hidden inside for a long time with their arms and provisions and come to no harm. These men opened the gates of Troy, a city sunk in darkness and sleep, and through the gates went the Grecian army which had returned in the ships and crossed the plain silently in the cover of the night.
So the prophecy of Laocoon and of the sad Cassandra was proved true, for there was not a Trojan on guard. King Priam and his noblest warriors were killed, Cassandra was taken captive, and the city was set on fire with torches and burned to the ground.
Then the Greeks set sail for their own country which they had not seen for so many years, and they took the beautiful Helen with them, awakened at last from the spell which Venus had cast upon her, and sorrowing for all the suffering she had caused.
But the glory of the old Trojan days was gone forever. Men search to-day the ruins of ancient Troy that lie hidden like bright jewels in the depths of the ancient mountains. There is little left but the memory of the apple of Discord that caused the destruction of the city and the heroes and the citadel of Troy's old power.
THE CYCLOPS.
The hero Ulysses was about to sail home to Greece, after the great city of Troy had been taken, having wandered farthest and suffered most of all in the long Trojan war.
He was well-nigh the last to sail, for he had tarried many days to do homage to Agamemnon, lord of all the Greeks. Twelve ships he had with him, twelve that he had brought to Troy, and in each there were some fifty men, being scarce half of those that had sailed with them in the old days, so many valiant heroes slept the last sleep on the plain and on the seashore, slain in battle or by the shafts of Apollo.
So first Ulysses sailed to the Thracian coast where he and his men filled their ships with foodstuffs and oxen and jars of fragrant juices of the grape. Scarcely had he set out again when the wind began to blow fiercely, and seeing a smooth sandy beach, they drove the ships to shore, dragged them out of reach of the waves, and waited there until the storm should abate. And the third morning, being fair, they sailed again, and journeyed prosperously. On the tenth day they came to the land where the lotus grows, a wonderful fruit which whoever eats cares not to see country, home, or children again.
Now the Lotus eaters, for so they call the people of the land, were a kindly folk and gave of the fruit to some of the sailors, not meaning any harm, but thinking it to be the best that they had to give. These men, when they had eaten, said that they would not sail any more over the sea. Which when the wise Ulysses heard, he bade their comrades bind them and carry them, sadly complaining, to the ships.
Then, the wind having abated, they took to their oars and rowed for many days until they came to the country where the Cyclops lived. A mile or so from the shore there was an island, very fair and fertile, but no man dwelled there or tilled the soil, and in the island there was a harbor where a ship might be safe from all winds and at the head of the harbor was a stream falling from the rock with whispering alders all about it.
Into this the ships passed safely and were hauled upon the beach and the crews slept by them, waiting for morning.
But in the morning Ulysses, who was always fond of adventure and would know of every land to which he came what manner of men it sheltered, took one of his twelve ships and bade the sailors row to land. There was a great hill sloping to the shore, and there rose up, here and there, a smoke from the caves where the Cyclopes lived apart, holding no converse with men. They were a rude and savage folk, each ruling his own household without taking thought of his neighbor.
Very close to the shore was one of these caves, very huge and deep, with a hedge of laurel hiding the opening and a wall of rough stone shaded by tall oaks and pines. Ulysses selected the twelve bravest men from his crew and bade the rest remain behind to guard the ship while he went to see what manner of dwelling it was and who abode there. He had his sword by his side and on his shoulder a mighty skin of the juice of grapes, sweet smelling and strong, with which he might win the heart of some fierce savage, should he chance to meet such.
So they entered the cave, and judged that it was the dwelling of some rich and skilful shepherd, for within there were pens for young sheep and goats, divided according to their age, and there were baskets full of cheeses, and full milk pails ranged along the wall. But the Cyclops, himself, was away in the pastures. Then the companions of Ulysses besought him to depart, but he would not, for he wished to see what manner of host this strange shepherd might be. And truly he saw to his cost!
It was evening when the Cyclops came home, a mighty giant, twenty feet or more tall. He carried a vast bundle of pine logs on his back for his fire, and threw them down outside the cave with a great crash. He drove the flocks inside and closed the entrance with a huge rock which twenty wagons and more could not have borne. Then he milked the ewes and goats, and half of the milk he curdled for cheese and half he set ready for himself when he should be hungry. Last, he kindled a fire with the pine logs and the flame lighted up all the cave, showing him Ulysses and his comrades.
"Who are you?" cried the Cyclops. "Are you traders, or pirates?"
"We are no pirates, mighty sir, but Greeks, sailing back from Troy. And we beg hospitality of you in the name of Jupiter who rewards or punishes the host according as he is hospitable or not."
"Then," said the giant, "it is idle to talk to me of Jupiter and the gods. We Cyclops take no account of gods, holding ourselves to be much better and stronger than they." Without more ado, he caught up two of the men, and devoured them with huge draughts of milk between, leaving not even a morsel or one of their bones. And when the giant had ended his meal, he lay down among his sheep and fell asleep.
Ulysses would have liked to slay the Cyclops where he lay, but he remembered that, were he to do this, his comrades would perish miserably. How could he move away the great rock that lay against the door of the cave? So they waited until morning. And the monster rose, seized two more men and devoured them for his meal. Then he went to the pastures, but put a great rock on the mouth of the cave just as a man puts down the lid on his quiver of arrows.
All that day the wise Ulysses was thinking what he might best do to save himself and his companions, and the end of his thinking was this.
There was a mighty pole in the cave, green wood of an olive tree as big as a ship's mast, which the giant proposed to use as a walking staff.
Ulysses broke off a fathom's length of this and his companions pointed it and hardened it in the fire. Then they hid it away.
At evening the giant came back, drove his flocks into the cave, fastened the door and made his cruel feast as before. Then Ulysses came forward with the skin of crushed grapes in his hand and said:
"Drink, Cyclops, now that you have feasted. Drink and see what a strange draught we had in our ship."
So the Cyclops drank, and was greatly pleased.
"Give me more," he demanded. "In good truth this is a strange draught.
We, too, have vines but they do not yield any juices like this, which indeed must be such as the gods drink."
Then Ulysses gave him the skin again and he drank from it. Three times he gave it to him and three times the giant drank, not knowing how it would work on his brain. At last he fell into a deep slumber. Ulysses told his men to be of good courage for the time of their deliverance was come.
They thrust the olive stick into the fire until, green as it was, it was ready to burst into flame and they thrust it into the monster's eye, for he had but one eye set in the middle of his great forehead, and made him sightless.
Then the Cyclops leaped up and bore away the stake and cried aloud so that all the Cyclopes who lived on the mountain side heard him and came down, crowding about the entrance to his cave. The Cyclops rolled away the great stone from the door of the cave and came out in the midst of the other giants stretching out his hands to try and gather his sheep together. And Ulysses wondered how he and his men would be able to escape.
At last he lighted on a good device. The Cyclops had driven the rams with the other ship into the cave and they were huge and strong. Ulysses fastened his comrades underneath the rams, tying them with osier twigs of which the giant made his bed. There was one mighty ram, far larger than all the others, and to this Ulysses clung, grasping the fleece tight with both hands. So they waited in the recesses of the cave for morning. And when the morning came, the rams rushed out to pasture as the giant sat in the door, feeling the back of each as it went by, but never touching the man who was bound underneath each. With them Ulysses escaped.
When they were out of reach of the giant, Ulysses loosed his hold of the rams and then unbound his comrades. They hastened to their ship, climbed in, and smote the sea with their oars, laying to right lustily that they might the sooner escape from this accursed land. But when they had rowed a hundred yards or so, the Cyclops heard them. He broke off the top of a great hill, a mighty rock, and hurled it where he heard the sound of the oars. It fell right in front of the ship's bow and washed the ship back to the shore again. But Ulysses seized a long pole with both hands and pushed the ship from the land and bade his comrades ply their oars softly, nodding with his head, for he was too wise to speak, lest the Cyclops should know where they were. Then they rowed with all their might and main.
They had gone twice as far as before, when Ulysses' pride became so great that he could no longer contain himself. He stood up in the boat and called out.
"Hear, Cyclops. If any man asks who destroyed your power for evil, say it was the warrior Ulysses, dwelling in Ithaca."
The giant heard and he lifted up his hands and spoke to Neptune, the god of the sea, who was the father of the Cyclopes. "Hear me, Neptune, if I am indeed your son and you are my father. May this Ulysses never reach his home; or, if the Fates have ordered that he shall reach it, may he come alone, with all his comrades lost."
And as the Cyclops ended this wicked prayer, he hurled another mighty rock which almost lighted on the rudder's end, yet missed it as if by a hair's breadth. So Ulysses escaped and all his comrades with him, and they came to the island of the wild goats where they found the rest of their men who had waited long for them in sore fear lest they had perished. And they went home in triumph to Greece.