BOOK XII

The Storming of the Wall

While valiant Patroclus was tending the stricken Eurypylus

There in the shelter, the Argives and Trojans were clashing

In furious melee, nor were die Danaan ditch

And the wide wall behind it long destined to keep off the foe.

They had built the wall and trenched all along it to keep

In safety their swift-sailing ships and enormous spoils,

But they had neglected to sacrifice glorious hecatombs

To the immortals. Hence it was built without

The good will of the gods, and so could not long endure.

So long as life lasted in Hector and wrath in Achilles,

And royal Priam’s city remained unsacked,

The Achaeans’ great wall stood firm. But when all the best

Of the Trojans were dead and many of the Argives too—

Though some of their bravest survived—and the city of Priam

Was sacked in the tenth long year, and the Argives had left

In their ships for their own dear country, then Poseidon

In counsel with lord Apollo decided to wreck

The great wall by bringing against it the united force

Of all the rivers that flow from the range of Ida

Seaward—the waters of Rhesus, Caresus, Heptaporus,

Rhodius, Granicus, Aesepus, along with the streams

Of sacred Scamander and Simoeis, by whose banks

Many a bull‘s-hide shield and helmet had splashed

In the mud along with many a half-divine mortal

Of that renowned generation—all of these rivers

Apollo made to flow out at one mouth and drove

For nine days their churning torrent against the great wall,

While Zeus continued to rain, that he might all the sooner

Flood the wall with salt sea. And Poseidon, creator

Of earthquakes, holding his trident, directed the onrush

Of waters and washed out to sea the log and stone

Foundations laid by the laboring Achaeans, then smoothly

Leveled all beside the strong Hellespont stream.

When the wall was demolished, again he covered the wide beach

With sand and turned the rivers back into the channels

Where they before had poured their bright-flowing streams.¹

These things Poseidon and Apollo were someday to do.

But now a roaring battle blazed at the well-built

Wall, and the wooden beams of the towers resounded

Beneath the missiles, as the Argives were cowed by the lash

Of Zeus and penned up and held by the hollow ships.

There they huddled in terror of Hector, that mighty

Master of rout, who raged like a howling gale.

As a wild boar or lion, exulting in strength, wheels

On hounds and hunters, who form a wall against him

And rain their javelins down, while onward his stout heart

Comes, unafraid and persistent until his own courage

Kills him—again and again he wheels about

And tries the line of spearmen, and wherever he charges

The line gives way—so Hector raged through the throng

Urging his comrades to cross the Achaean trench.

But the quick-hoofed horses balked there, frightened and shrilly

Neighing on the very lip of the trench, for it

Was too wide to leap or easily drive across,

Since the banks overhung on either side, and along

The top toward the wall the sons of Achaeans had planted

A row of sharp stakes, close-set and tall, to keep off

The foe. No horse could easily drag a car,

However well-rolling, through those defenses. The footmen,

Though, were eager to try them, and Polydamas came up

To daring Hector and spoke to him and the others:²

“O leaders of Trojans and Trojan allies, any

Attempt to drive our fast horses across this deep ditch

Would surely be senseless. The crossing would be indeed hard,

For the ditch is bristling with sharp-pointed stakes and not far

Beyond them looms the Achaean wall. That space

Over there is so narrow that horsemen could wage no war

Without great hurt to themselves. But if high-crashing Zeus

Is really determined to aid the Trojans and ruin

Our foes in his wrath, then I too of course would like

Nothing more than that the Achaeans, unsung and nameless,

Might perish here far from Argos. But if they should rally

And drive us back from the ships and into the ditch,

Then not one of us would ever get out alive,

Not even a man to tell our story in Troy.

But come, let all of us do as I say. Let us leave

Our horses here at the trench with our squires, while we

In full armor cross over on foot with Hector before us.

Then the Achaeans will not be able to stem

Our advance, if they are truly bound fast in the fatal

Bonds of destruction.”

Such was the prudent advice

Of Polydamas, a plan well pleasing to Hector, who clad

In his bronze leaped down at once from his car to the ground.

And the other Trojans, seeing Prince Hector afoot,

Broke their chariot ranks and likewise leaped down.

Then each of them ordered his driver to hold back the horses

Quietly there at the trench, but they themselves

Split up and formed five ordered battalions, marshaled

Behind their chieftains.

The largest and bravest battalion

Fell in behind Hector and peerless Polydamas, all men

Most eager to breach the wall and fight their way

To the hollow ships, and with them Cebriones went

As third in command, for Hector had left with his car

A less able man. The second battalion was led

By Paris along with Agenor and Alcathous,

And the third by two sons of Priam, Helenus and godlike

Deïphobus, with the warrior Asius third in command—

Asius, Hyrtacus’ son, whom his glossy huge horses

Had drawn from Arisbe where flows the river Selleïs.

And leading the fourth battalion was the valorous son

Of Anchises, Aeneas himself, and with him served

Two versatile fighting men, Antenor’s sons Acamas

And Archelochus. And Troy’s renowned allies were led

By Sarpedon, who chose as his captains Glaucus and battle-fierce

Asteropaeus, whom next to himself he deemed

The best men, for he was the finest soldier among them.

When all had been marshaled with shield touching bull’s-hide shield,

They ferociously made for the Danaan troops, nor did

They feel that they could be kept from hurling themselves

Upon the black ships.

Then all the Trojans and all

Their far-famed allies adopted the plan of peerless

Polydamas—all but Asius, Hyrtacus’ son.

That leader of men had no intention of leaving

His horses there with his rein-holding squire. But still

In his chariot he approached the swift ships, childish

Fool that he was! for never would he escape

The dire fates and go back from the ships to windy Troy

Triumphant, exulting in horses and car. Instead,

Cursed fate enshrouded the man by the spear of lordly

Idomeneus, son of Deucalion. On he drove

Toward the long left flank of the ships, heading his horses

And car for a bridge over which the Achaeans were accustomed

To drive as they returned from the plain. Asius

Got across and found that the doors were not shut

Nor the long bar yet in its place. The Achaeans were holding

Them open, hoping to save some comrade of theirs

Who might still be fleeing from battle and trying to make

The ships. Right over the bridge he drove with his screaming

Squadron behind him, nor did they feel that Achaeans

Could keep them from hurling themselves upon the black ships—

Fools one and all! For there at the gates they found

Two men of superlative prowess, spirited sons

Of spear-hurling Lapithae, Peirithous’ son Polypoetes

The strong and Leonteus, the peer of man-maiming Ares.

These two were planted in front of the gaping high gate

As firmly fixed in their stance as a couple of oaks

In the mountains, high-crested giants with ground-gripping roots

Great and long, abiding both wind and rain throughout

Innumerable days. So now these two, with faith

In their powerful arms, awaited, firm and unflinching,

The fierce onslaught of mighty Asius. And on

He came with his followers straight for the well-built gate,

All of them screaming their terrible war-cries and raising

Their hard leather shields about their leaders—King Asius,

Iamenus and Orestes, and Adamas, Asius’ son,

And Thoön and Oenomaus. The Lapithae inside the wall

Had been urging the well-greaved Achaeans to fight in defense

Of the ships, but when they saw troops charging down on the wall

And the panicking Danaans fleeing with screams of terror,

These two rushed out in front of the gate like a pair

Of wild boars in the mountains, ferocious beasts that await

The clamorous onset of men and dogs, charging out

To either side, crushing and rooting up saplings

And vines with a gnashing and clashing and grinding of tusks,

Till finally spears deprive them of spirit. Even so

The bright bronze grated and clanged on the breasts of these two

As they were struck hard glancing blows while facing the foe

And keenly contending, trusting their strength and the army

Of comrades above them. For men on the well-built ramparts

Kept hurling down stones in defense of their lives, their shelters,

And fast-faring ships. And the stones came down like flakes

Of snow when a blizzard wind buffets the lowering clouds

And drifts the snow deep on the all-feeding earth, the huge stones

Hurtling through air from the powerful hands of Achaeans

And Trojans too, and harsh was the grating and clanging

As rocks big as millstones struck helmets and studded shields.

Then Asius, Hyrtacus’ son, smote his thighs

And spoke thus, painfully groaning in great consternation:

“So you, Father Zeus, have also become an utterly

Lie-loving god! For surely you led roe to think

The Achaeans would be no match for our mighty strength

And invincible hands. But they are like quick-waisted wasps

Or bees that build their nest in a hollow close by

A rocky path, and that stay and fight against hunters

In stubborn defense of their young. So now these men,

Though only two, will not give ground at the gate

Nor cease their slaying till they themselves be slain!”

He spoke, but his words left the mind of Zeus unchanged,

For still he willed to give the glory to Hector.

Meanwhile, others at other gates were battling,

And hard indeed it would be for me, even though

I were a god, to tell the tale of what happened,

For all along the great wall the god-inspired fire

Of stones kept up, as the sore-beset Argives were forced

To defend their ships. And all the gods who supported

The struggling Danaans deeply grieved in their hearts.

And the two Lapithae fought on in the blazing battle.

Strong Polypoetes, Peirithous’ son, let fly

His spear and struck the bronze-cheeked helmet of Damasus.

On through the bronze and bone beneath went the point

And spattered the helmet inside with the warrior’s brains,

Thus stopping Damasus’ furious charge. Then

Polypoetes went on to account for Pylon and Ormenus.

Meanwhile Leonteus, scion of Ares, aimed

His spear at Hippomachus, son of Antimachus, hurled it

And brought the man down, striking him full on the war-belt.

Next he drew his sharp sword from its sheath and sprang

Through the crowd to kill in close fight Antiphates, thrusting him

Back on the ground, after which Leonteus went on

To Iamenus, Menon, Orestes, all of whom

He stretched out on the bountiful earth.

While the Lapithae stripped

From the dead their glittering armor, the young men who followed

Polydamas and Hector, they who formed the largest

And bravest battalion and were most eager to breach

The wall and put their fire to the ships, these

Still stood in conflict and doubt at the brink of the trench.

For as they were going to cross, an ominous bird

Had appeared to them, a high-haunting eagle that flew

By the host on the left with a blood-crimson snake in his talons,

A monstrous serpent alive and writhing, with plenty

Of fight left in him. Doubling up he struck

At his captor’s breast and neck till the burning pangs

Forced the eagle to let the snake go, and it fell in the midst

Of the troops at the trench. Then with a scream the eagle

Flew down the wind and away, while the Trojans shuddered

At sight of the writhing snake, a glistening omen

From Zeus of the aegis. Then again Polydamas came up

To bold Hector and offered advice:

“Hector, somehow

You always rebuke me when I in assembly say

What I think, no matter how good my counsel may be,

Since never never should any man of the people

Contradict you in council or on the field,

Or do anything but uphold and increase your command.

But now once again I intend to speak my mind,

As it seems to me I should. Let us, then, not

Advance to fight for the Danaan ships. For now

I know what will happen to us, if this is a truly

Ominous bird, this high-haunting eagle that came

Just as we were eager to cross, flying by on the left

With a blood-crimson snake in his talons, a monstrous, writhing

Serpent that he let fall before he could reach

His own nest and ravenous young. Thus it shall happen

To us, though we do by our great strength break through

The Achaean gates and wall and force the foe back—

Even so we ourselves shall return from the ships, retracing

Our steps in no very orderly fashion, and leaving

Innumerable Trojans behind, killed by the bronze

Of Achaeans defending their ships. Such would any

Good soothsayer say who knew the truth about omens

And so had the people’s trust.”

With an angry scowl

Bright-helmeted Hector replied: “Polydamas, truly

This last speech of yours I do not find very pleasing.

You certainly know how to give better counsel than that.

But if you are really in earnest, then surely the gods

Have addled your brains, since now you bid us forget

The message of mightily-thundering Zeus, who made me

A promise which he confirmed with a nod of his head.^aj

But you would have us obey these long-winged birds,

About which I could not care less, regardless of whether

They fly to the right toward morning and sunrise, or

To the left toward the murky gloom of twilight. Let us

Obey the counsels of almighty God, of Zeus

Who is King over all, mortals and immortals too.

One omen only is best—to fight for one’s homeland!

But why are you so afraid of blazing battle

And warfare? For even if all the rest of us fell

At the ships of the Argives, still there would be no danger

Of death for you, since you have no battle-staunch heart

Or warlike spirit at all. However, if now

You hold back from the fiery struggle or try to persuade

Any other Trojan to do so, quickly you’ll die

Beneath the force of my spear!”

So saying, brave Hector

Led the advance and all his men followed, screaming

Their unearthly war-cries. And bolt-hurling Zeus stirred up

From the mountains of Ida a blasting hard wind that bore

The dust in billows straight at the ships. Thus

He confused the Achaeans still more, and guaranteed glory

To Trojans and Hector. Trusting in such signs from Zeus

And in their own might, they did their best to break

The Achaean’s great wall. They tore down towers and breastworks

And pried up beams that buttressed the battlements—all

In their efforts to breach the Achaean wall. But not

Even now did the Danaans give way before them, but quickly

They closed the gaps with barriers made of bull’s-hide

And threw from behind them at those who came at the wall.

The two Ajaxes ranged all along the ramparts

Arousing the strength of Achaeans and urging them on.

They harshly berated whomever they saw disposed

To give up and retreat, but others they cheered with words

Of encouragement, saying: “O friends, you Argive princes,

Officers, commoners, all are by no means equal

In war, but now there is plenty of work for all,

As surely you already know. Therefore let no man

Turn toward the ships away from the cries of the foe,

But keep facing forward and urging each other on,

That Olympian Zeus, lord and lover of lightning,

May give us the power to stem this assault and drive

Our foes back to the city.”

So shouted the two Ajaxes,

Arousing Achaean resistance. And as snowflakes fall thick

On a winter day when all-planning Zeus displays

His missiles to men, as he lulls every wind and continues

To snow until he has covered the high mountain peaks

And jutting lofty headlands, the clover fields

And fertile plowlands of men, and all the harbors

And shores of the gray sea are white, as the heavy snowstorm

From Zeus wraps all but the beating waves: even so

The stones from both sides flew thick, many falling on Trojans,

Many upon the Achaeans, and as they hurled

At each other, the screaming and thudding resounded all up

And down the great wall.

But not even now would the Trojans

And glorious Hector have broken through gate and long bar

If Zeus the contriver had not sent his son Sarpedon

Against the Argive troops, like a lion against

Fat cattle. Quickly he swung his round shield to the front—

His gorgeous buckler of beaten bronze that a smith

Had hammered out and backed with many a bull’s-hide,

All fastened together with stitches of golden wire

Running around the circumference. With this before him

And brandishing two long lances, he charged like a lion

Of the mountains, a meat-starved beast whose ferocious spirit

Sends him right into the close-barred fold for a try

At the sheep. And though he lands amid shepherds with spears

And dogs watching over the sheep, still he is loath

To leave the pens before he has made his attack,

And either he springs on the flock and seizes a victim,

Or he himself is struck mid the foremost defenders

By a spear from someone’s quick hand. Even so the spirit

Of godlike Sarpedon made him feel eager to charge

Full speed at the wall and break his way through the battlements.

Hence he spoke thus to Glaucus, son of Hippolochus:

“Glaucus, why is it that we above all are honored

With royal seats, choice cuts, and ever-full cups

In Lycia, and gazed on by all as though we were gods?³

And why do we hold and enjoy that huge estate

On the banks of Xanthus, those acres of excellent orchard

And fertile wheat-bearing fields? Surely it best

Becomes us to fight mid the foremost and throw ourselves

In the blaze of battle, that many a bronze-breasted Lycian

May say:

“‘Surely the lords of Lycia are no

Inglorious men, our Kings, who feast on fat sheep

And drink the choice mellow wine. But they are truly

Powerful warriors, men who always fight

Up front with the foremost champions of Lycia.’

“Ah,

My friend, if we had only to turn from this battle

To make ourselves deathless and ageless forever, neither

Would I myself fight mid the foremost, nor would I urge you

To take part in the man-enhancing struggle. But now,

Since countless fates of inescapable death surround us

Here and always, let us go forward and fight,

That we may give glory to someone, or win it ourselves.”

He spoke, and Glaucus did not turn heedless away,

But both of them charged straight onward, heading the great host

Of Lycians. At sight of them coming, Menestheus, son

Of Peteos, shuddered, for they were directing all

Their destruction at his high part of the wall. Hoping

To see some chief who might save his comrades from ruin,

Menestheus looked up and down the Achaean wall,

And not far off he saw the two Ajaxes,

Hungry for battle, and standing there with them, just back

From his lodge, was Teucer. But it was impossible now

For him to make himself heard, so great was the din

That went up to heaven of hard-beaten shields and helmets,

Crested with horsehair, and battered gates, for all

The doors had been closed and now the foe fought before them

To crash their way through and enter. Quickly Menestheus

Dispatched the herald Thoötes:

“Go, my noble

Thoötes, run call Telamonian Ajax, or rather

Call both Ajaxes, for that would be far best of all

In our present desperate condition. Here, bearing down

On us hard, come the fierce Lycian leaders, men who have always

Proved themselves mighty in battle. But if there too

The toil and tumult of war have arisen, at least

Let the brave Telamonian Ajax come, and with him

Teucer, the expert bowman.”

So he spoke,

And the listening herald did not disobey him, but went

At a run by the wall of the bronze-clad Achaeans till soon

He approached the two Ajaxes and thus delivered

His message: “O leaders of bronze-breasted Argives, Menestheus,

Fostered of Zeus, appeals for your help—though it be

But briefly given—to stem a terrible onslaught.

Both of you now would surely be far best of all

In our present desperate condition. There, bearing down

On them hard, come the fierce Lycian leaders, men who have always

Proved themselves mighty in battle. But if here too

The toil and tumult of war have arisen, at least

Let the brave Telamonian Ajax come, and with him

Teucer, the expert bowman.”

Thoötes spoke thus,

And huge Telamonian Ajax did not ignore him.

At once he spoke winged words to the son of Oïleus:

“Ajax, you and strong Lycomedes stand

Your ground firmly and urge the Danaans here to fight fiercely.

I will go and face the foe with Menestheus,

And come back here as soon as I’ve done what I can.”

With this Telamonian Ajax went on his way,

And with him his half-brother Teucer, both of them sons

Of one father, and with them Pandion carried the curved bow

Of Teucer. Rushing along within the wall,

They came to the bastion of great-souled Menestheus. To men

Under pressure they came, for the enemy now were swarming

Upon the battlements, warriors like a black whirlwind,

The powerful Lycian counselors and kings. They clashed

Head on in the tumult, and the screams of battle rose high.

Ajax, Telamon’s son, was first to kill

His man, the intrepid Epicles, a friend of Sarpedon,

Striking him down with a craggy huge rock that lay

On top of the wall within the battlements. Not

Without great effort could a man of our generation,

No matter how young or strong, so much as lift it

With both of his hands, but Ajax raised it up high

And hurled it down, smashing the four-horned helmet

And crushing the skull of Epicles, who pitched from the wall

Like a diver, as spirit took leave of his bones. And Teucer

Struck Glaucus, the stalwart son of Hippolochus, wounding

His uncovered arm with an arrow as hotly he rushed up

The ramparts and Teucer shot from the top. His shaft

Took the fight out of Glaucus, and furtively he leaped down

From the wall, that no Achaean might see he was wounded

And make a brag over him. But Sarpedon soon knew,

And great was his grief at the absence of Glaucus, though still

He fought hard as ever. With a well-aimed thrust he embedded

His spear in Alcmaon, son of Thestor, and when

He withdrew it Alcmaon came with it, falling face down

With a ringing of ornate bronze. Then Sarpedon laid hold

Of the breastwork with both of his powerful hands, and pulled,

And a long length of battlement fell. He thus bared the top

Of the Argive wall and made a passage for many.

But now both Ajax and Teucer came at him at once.

Teucer glanced a shaft hard off the gleaming baldric

That crossed his chest and held his man-guarding shield,

As Zeus kept death from his son Sarpedon, that he

Might not fall by the sterns of the ships. And Ajax sprang

At him and lunged with his spear, but the point did not pierce

His shield, though he made him reel in his charge. And now

He fell back a bit from the top, but not altogether,

Since still his heart had hopes of glory. Turning,

He called to his godlike people:

“O Lycians, where now

Is your furious war-charge? No matter how strong I may be,

I can’t very well break through the wall all alone

And beat a path to the ships. After me, then,

And the more of you the better!”

He shouted, and they,

In fear of rebuke, pressed forward on either side

Of their brave King and giver of counsel, and the Argives

Opposite them reinforced their battalions behind

The great wall. And now a still hotter struggle ensued.

For the powerful Lycians could not break their way through

The Danaan wall and beat a path to the ships,

Nor could the Danaan spearmen thrust them back

From the wall once they had won a position upon it.

But as two men with measuring-rods in hand

Contend with each other from either side of a fence

Where their two fields come together, and bitterly fight

In a narrow space for a just allotment of land,

So now the battlements held them apart as over

The top they smote the bull’s-hide bucklers in front of

Their chests, the circular shields and fluttering targets.

And many were cut by thrusts of the ruthless bronze,

Not only when anyone turned his back in the fight,

But many were wounded clean through the shield itself.

All down the line the towers and battlements glistened

With flowing blood from men of both sides, Achaeans

And Trojans alike. But still the Achaeans staunchly

Held their ground. As a careful widow that wearily

Spins for a living balances weight and wool

In either pan of the scales, making them equal,

That she may earn some paltry support for her children,

So equally now their raging battle was drawn,

Till Zeus gave the higher glory to Priam’s son Hector,

The first man to plunge inside the Achaeans’ wide wall,

First shouting thus to the horde of Trojans behind him:

“On, you horse-taming Trojans, smash the wall

Of the Argives and hurl on the ships your god-blazing fire!”

Thus he urged all of them on, and they giving ear

Charged in one body straight at the wall and started

To climb the ramparts with sharp-pointed spears in their hands.

And Hector picked up a stone in front of the gate

And carried it with him, a broad-based, pointed boulder

That not even two of this generation’s strongest

Could manage to heave on a wagon. Yet Hector easily

Held it alone, since now crooked Cronos’ son Zeus

Made the stone light for him. As a shepherd lightly

Picks up with one hand and carries the fleece of a ram,

Scarcely aware of the weight, so Hector easily

Lifted the boulder and bore it straight on at the thick

And tight-fitting doors of the gate, high double-doors

With two crossbars inside well locked by a bolt

In the middle. Charging in close, he took a firm stance

And hurled the stone at the doors, planting his feet

Well apart to insure the force of his blow. And the stone

Crashed into the middle, broke off the hinges, and fell

Inside, as the great gate groaned and the bars gave way

And the doors flew apart beneath the force of the boulder.

Then glorious Hector sprang in, his stern face dark

As fast-falling night. But his bronze shone ghastly about him,

And in his hands he held two spears, nor could

Anyone but a god have held the man back, when once

He had plunged through the gate with his eyes so fiercely flaming.

Whirling about in the crowd, he called the Trojans

To scale the wall, and again they heeded his urging.

Quickly many climbed over the top while others

Poured in through the strongly wrought gate. And the Danaans fled

In fear mid the hollow ships, and the screams were unceasing.