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Alexander The Great On His Sickbed, By Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg (c. 1783 – 1853)

This painting, by the Danish artist Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg (c. 1783 – 1853), depicts a specific tale about Alexander the Great that was said to have occurred around the year 333 BCE. As the story goes, Alexander fell terribly ill that year and his life rested in the hands of his physicians. Among the healers in the king’s entourage, an honorable man named Philip of Acarnania was bold enough to develop a medicine that he swore would heal Alexander of his illness. While the sickly king deliberated whether or not to take the mysterious potion, a letter from one of his generals arrived, warning Alexander the Great that the healer’s medicine might be poisoned. This event, and what happened next, was recorded by the Greek-Roman historian Arrian (c. 90-173):

“About this time Alexander had a bout of sickness. The cause of it, according to Aristobulus’ account, was exhaustion, but others say that he plunged into the river Cydnus for a swim…the result was that Alexander was seized by a convulsion, followed by high fever and sleepless nights. All his doctors but one despaired of his life; but Philip of Acarnania, who attended him and was not only a trusted physician but a good soldier as well, proposed to give him purgative. Alexander consented to take it, and just as Philip was preparing the draught, Alexander was handed a note from Parmenio. ‘Beware of Philip,’ the note read; ‘I am informed that he has been bribed by Darius to poison you.’ Alexander read the warning, and with the paper still in his hand took the cup of medicine and then passed the note to Philip. Philip read it, and while he was reading Alexander swallowed the dose. It was immediately clear that there was nothing wrong with Philip’s medicine” (Anabasis of Alexander, 2.4).

The consequential life-and-death scene of Alexander choosing to trust his own instincts about Philip instead of listening to the dubious intelligence report mailed in by Parmenio is what Christoffer Wilhelm Eckersberg re-creates in the painting. Philip of Acarnania can be seen beginning to read the general’s warning as Alexander looks over his cup of medicine to gauge the doctor’s reaction for signs of innocence or guilt. Satisfied with the physician’s demeanor, Alexander took the medicine and his instincts were validated by a subsequent quick recovery. Philip of Acarnania and his medical techniques were said to have elevated Alexander the Great to a functioning state within three days, at which point the king was able to resume leading his military in the field.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Sources:

Alexander Hamilton

Alexander Hamilton (c. 1755/1757-1804)

“Nothing could be more ill-judged than that intolerant spirit which has, at all times, characterized political parties.”

  • From The Federalist No. 1, by Alexander Hamilton, in The Federalist Papers. Republished by the Henry Regnery Company (Chicago, Illinois, 1948).

The Tale Of Herfemar’s Standoff Against King Liutprand’s Palace Guards

In the early 8th century, a warrior named Herfemar served as a high-ranking advisor to Pemmo, a Lombard Duke of the Friuli region of Italy. For most of his time at the duke’s court, Herfemar likely thought that Duke Pemmo’s court was a politically safe place to be. Pemmo had a decades-long reign, beginning in the days of King Aripert II of the Lombards (r. 701-712). At the start, Duke Pemmo was evidently not one who would impede or scheme against the monarchy. Instead, he mainly seemed to focus on rebuilding and strengthening his region’s military capabilities, which had been weakened and depleted during the war-torn reigns of previous dukes of Friuli, who had suffered from clashes with hostile Slavic raiders. Duke Pemmo, in contrast to his predecessors, succeeded in whipping his local forces back into fighting shape and managed to contain the threat of Slavic incursions. Herfemar would have probably been with Pemmo in Friuli at that time, but his deeds during those border skirmishes were not recorded. Despite the lack of information, one can imagine that Herfemar fought well during the battles and gained the respect of the duke. Whatever the case, he was a great fighter and eventually was invited to be a part of Duke Pemmo’s inner circle of advisors.

While Duke Pemmo and Herfemar were busy defending Friuli and trying to bring the region’s conflicts with Slavic invaders to an end, they would have been watching with interest as a civil war broke out in the rest of the Lombard Kingdom. King Aripert II died during a war against a returned exile named Ansprand, who launched a Bavarian-backed invasion of Lombard Italy in 711 or 712. Although King Ansprand won the war and claimed the kingdom, he died of illness only three months after becoming king. Ansprand was succeeded by his son, King Liutprand (r. 712-744), and it was this king that Duke Pemmo of Friuli would eventually anger, thereby putting Herfemar and other advisors of the duke in danger.

Duke Pemmo, despite still ostensibly continuing to play the role of a duke who was adequately loyal to his liege, was not able to maintain good relations with King Liutprand. Pemmo, like other vassals of the Lombard king, evidently had a hard time deciding how to act during Liutprand’s reign. To some extent, this was because the king was a talented geo-political schemer, who expanded his realm by quickly and unpredictably pivoting between war and peace with his rivals in Italy. This fluidity of policy gave Liutprand an advantage when he was scheming on the global stage. Yet, Liutprand’s own vassals, too, were caught off guard by their king’s quickly-shifting designations of friend and foe. King Liutprand’s dukes had to time their own independent actions cautiously and precisely, so that their machinations against institutions or nearby regions did not undermine their king’s obscured plans for the overall kingdom. Duke Pemmo, despite not having any clashes with the previous kings, was not as lucky with Liutprand.

Duke Pemmo’s downfall ultimately came after meddling in a local religious rivalry. It was a dispute of religious jurisdiction and housing between men identified as Bishop Amator and Patriarch Calixtus. As the story goes, Patriarch Calixtus evicted Amator from the home that the bishop inhabited in Friuli and drove him away from the region. This event initially occurred without any obstruction from the duke. Nevertheless, after the bishop was driven away and once Patriarch Calixtus moved in, Duke Pemmo soon changed his mind and had Calixtus arrested and imprisoned. This arrest, however, was what angered King Liutprand.

Liutprand, when he heard the news, decided to remove Pemmo as Duke of Friuli. The maneuver could have been a bloody affair, as Pemmo had a powerful military and he had also worked to cultivate a possible alliance with his Slavic neighbors after negotiating a truce with them in years prior to the religious incident. Talented King Liutprand, however, was able to avoid a civil war by enticing one of Pemmo’s sons, Ratchis, into arranging for the duke to peacefully surrender to the crown. Convinced by Ratchis, Duke Pemmo and his council of advisors (including Herfemar) willingly made their way to have an audience with King Liutprand, presumably at the king’s palace at Ticinum (later Pavia). In exchange for ushering his father to face the king’s judgment, Ratchis was promised the role of being Friuli’s next duke and King Liutprand also divulged that Pemmo and the rest of the family would be pardoned. Pemmo’s inner circle of non-family advisors, unfortunately, were not part of the deal. On this incident, a Friuli native and historian named Paul the Deacon (c. 720-799) wrote, “the king, sitting in judgement, pardoned for Ratchis’ sake Pemmo and his [other] two sons, Ratchait and Aistulf, and ordered them to stand behind his chair. The king, however, in a loud voice ordered that all those who had adhered to Pemmo, naming them, should be seized…” (Paul the Deacon, History of the Lombards, 6.51).

Herfemar and the other advisors were caught off guard by the king’s order. Curiously, these men had apparently been able to arrive armed for their meeting with the king, and as they had their weapons at hand, many of the advisors decided to not go down without a fight. Herfemar, a talented swordsman, was one such man who reportedly drew his blade and decided to battle his way out of the throne room. As the story goes, Herfemar impressively was able to fend off the incoming palace guards and make a run for it. He (along with other fleeing advisors who followed him) reportedly retreated to a nearby church, where the sanctuary was barricaded and fortified in preparation for a final stand. At that point, either due to the sacrilegious prospect of assaulting a church or possibly due to Herfemar’s own prowess with a sword, King Liutprand ultimately decided to pardon the warrior. This bold escape, along with the general arrest of Duke Pemmo’s advisors, was recorded by the aforementioned Paul the Deacon, who wrote, “when these Langobards [Lombards] were seized in this manner, Herfemar, who had been one of them, drew his sword, and followed by many, defended himself manfully and fled to the church of the blessed Michael and then by the favor of the king he alone secured impunity while the others were for a long time tormented in bonds” (History of the Lombards, 6.51). Unfortunately, little is known about what happened to Herfemar after he left the church besides that he did not share the same fate as the other advisers of Duke Pemmo.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Battle of Etampes from BL Royal 16 G VI, f. 81 (Chroniques de France ou de St Denis), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons, Europeana and The British Library).

 

Sources:

  • History of the Lombards by Paul the Deacon, translated by William Dudley Foulke (c. 1904). University of Pennsylvania Press, 1907, 1974, 2003.

The Birth Of Bacchus, By An 18th-Century Artist

This painting, by an unidentified 18th-century artist, strives to re-create the mythical birth scene of the ancient god, Bacchus—the Roman equivalent of the Greek Dionysus, a god of vegetation and wine. Despite the sense of peace and serenity displayed in the artwork above, Dionysus’ birth (as told in ancient myths) was anything but tranquil. There are two major birth myths attributed to Dionysus. Both myths share the same main godly figures, but they set the events differently. In both myths, Zeus is recognized as the father of Dionysus. Both myths also portray Hera as a character who wishes harm to be done against Dionysus and his mother. Additionally, Zeus saves his son in both of the stories, allowing the god of wine to be born again—which gave Dionysus the name, ‘Twice-born.”

In the normal origin myth, Dionysus was the son of Zeus and the Theban princess, Semele. For those not familiar with Greek and Roman mythology, Zeus was not married to Semele. No, he was already wed to another deity, the goddess Hera. By sleeping with Zeus, Semele brought upon herself the wrath of none other than the queen of the Olympian gods. Hera appeared to Semele and planted a terrible idea in the princess’ head. She convinced Semele that Zeus’ divinity needed to be proved, as Zeus had only met with the princess in a disguise. The next time Zeus visited Semele, the princess made the lightning god promise to reveal himself in all his godly radiance. When Zeus fulfilled the promise, Semele, who was pregnant with Dionysus, was either burnt to death by the incredible light, or she was struck dead by stray lightning. Dionysus was brought into the world by Zeus’ destructive power, but the young god was not yet fully developed. Zeus sewed Dionysus into his thigh until the god was old enough to be born again. The normal birth myth ends with Zeus tasking the messenger-god Hermes with the mission of delivering Dionysus to a group of nymphs, who would watch over him until adulthood.

The other Dionysus origin myth was attributed to the mythical singer Orpheus, for anonymous hymns and writings that were associated with Orpheus’ name eventually came to influence the cult of Dionysus. So-called Orphic hymns are believed to have been written in Imperial Rome, between the reigns of Augustus and Constantine. In the Orphic telling of the Dionysus origin myth, the wine god’s parents were Zeus and Persephone. In this myth, Hera let the young god be born and her wrath skipped Persephone to fall solely on the young Dionysus. To eliminate the unquestionable evidence of her husband’s infidelity, Hera hired the strongest possible killers available to assassinate Dionysus—the Titans. The infant Dionysus was lured away from the safety of his powerful father, and the titans ripped the boy-god into pieces and ate the scraps. A goddess (different accounts name Athena, Rhea or Demeter) was able to salvage Dionysus’ beating heart, which was then delivered to Zeus. The lightning god was then able to impregnate Semele with that heart, bringing Dionysus back to life.

These, then, are the grisly origin myths of Dionysus (or Bacchus) that inspired the artwork. Despite the painting being called “the Birth of Bacchus,” the artwork more likely shows the upbringing of the god. In particular, the image probably features the moments after Zeus tasked Hermes with taking Dionysus to be raised by nymphs.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources:

  • Marvin W. Meyer. The Ancient Mysteries: A Sourcebook of Sacred Texts. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 1987.
  • Euripides. The Bacchae in The Ancient Mysteries edited by Marvin W. Meyer. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 1987.
  • Livy. History of Rome in The Ancient Mysteries edited by Marvin W. Meyer. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 1987.
  • Rule of the Iobacchoi in The Ancient Mysteries edited by Marvin W. Meyer. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. 1987.
  • https://www.artic.edu/artworks/87637/the-birth-of-bacchus

Sophocles

Sophocles (c. 496-406/405 BCE)

“Of course you cannot know a man completely,
his character, his principles, sense of judgment,
not till he’s shown his colors, ruling the people,
making laws. Experience, there’s the test.”

  • From Sophocles’ Antigone, approximately between lines 170-180, translated by Robert Fagles (Penguin Classics, 1982, 1984, 2018).

Aristotle’s Philosophical View On The Origins Of Government

Many famous philosophers presented theories envisioning how primordial authority structure and ancient governments might have formed at the dawn of civilization. From absolute divine mandates of power, to carefully-negotiated social contracts between leaders and the masses, the philosophers had varying opinions on the origins and nature of governments and their right to rule. The famous Greek philosopher, Aristotle (384-322 BCE), fell into the social contract category, particularly the camp of social contract philosophers who believed that the earliest humans decided of their own volition to give power to a leader of their choice.

As was often the case in Aristotle’s philosophy, virtue played a major role. Envisioning the civilizations of primordial days, Aristotle postulated in his text, The Politics, that early peoples chose as their kings the most virtuous and talented people from among the community. When civilization evolved and kingdoms expanded, allowing multiple extraordinary people to coexist in a kingdom at the same time, the communities (according to Aristotle) now transitioned to a proto-democracy which was designed so that the wise people could be leaders together. On this, Aristotle wrote, “An especial function of good men is to confer benefits, and it was in recognition of the benefits that they had conferred that men were appointed to be kings. Then, when a large number of men of similar virtue became available, people no longer tolerated one-man rule but looked for something communal, and set up a constitution” (Aristotle, Politics, Bekker number 1286b). These proto-democracies that Aristotle imagined, however, did not remain harmonious for long.

According to Aristotle’s theory of government origin, the proto-democracies eventually became unbalanced as the members of the government began to turn away from virtue and instead became self-centeredly focused on enriching themselves. Honest and virtuous leaders still existed in the proto-democracy, but they were soon overpowered by the wealth and machinations of their corrupted peers. This victory of a greedy few over the preexisting assembly of virtuous leaders is what led, according to the philosopher, to the birth of oligarchies. Aristotle commented on this envisioned transition, writing, “the good men did not remain good: they began to make money out of that which was the common property of all. And to some such development we may plausibly ascribe the origin of oligarchies, since men made wealth a thing of honour” (Aristotle, Politics, Bekker number 1286b). With the triumph of wealth and power over virtue, the political struggle for ultimate control was just beginning.

In Aristotle’s philosophical model of government origin, the unstable oligarchies released a wave of intrigue and bloodshed that was caused by oligarchs trying to leverage their wealth and power in order to gain control over their fellow oligarchs. When a particular oligarch succeeded in subjugating his powerful peers, the government became a tyranny, led by a dictatorial tyrant. Yet, as oligarchs and tyrants battled among themselves, they reduced each other’s power and simultaneously stoked the ire of the masses, paving the way for the eventual resurgence of democracy. Aristotle wrote, “the next change was to tyrannies, and from tyrannies to democracy. For the struggle to get rich at all cost tended to reduce numbers, and so increased the power of the multitude, who rose up and formed democracies” (Aristotle, Politics, Bekker number 1286b). Such was Aristotle’s vision of civilization’s progress from tribes, to kingdoms, to proto-democracies, to oligarchies and tyrants, and finally back to democracy. It should be reiterated that Aristotle was a philosopher and that the Politics was a philosophical text. His outline of civilization’s progress was more of a social commentary than an attempt at history.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Oedipus Going Into Exile From Thebes, By Henri Augustin Gambard (c. 1819–1882), [Public Domain] via Creative Commons, Artvee, and the Detroit Institute of Arts).

 

Sources:

  • The Politics by Aristotle, translated by T. A. Sinclair and revised by T. J. Saunders. London: Penguin Classics, 1962, 1992.

The Shipwreck Of Agrippina, By Gustav Wertheimer (c. 1847-1902)

This artwork by the Austrian artist, Gustav Wertheimer (c. 1847-1902), was inspired by the elaborate tales of Nero’s plots to assassinate his own mother, Agrippina the Younger. As the great-nephew of the reigning Roman emperor, Claudius (r. 41-54), Nero always had been royalty, but was originally not very high on the list of imperial succession. This was especially true since Claudius had a son named Britannicus. Nevertheless, Britannicus’ mother, Messalina, was executed after having an affair, and at the time when Claudius became single, Agrippina (who was also a widow) caught Claudius’ eye. The two married in the year 49 and Claudius formally adopted Agrippina’s son, Nero. Under Agrippina’s influence, Claudius began to favor Nero as heir more than his own son, Britannicus, who was around four years younger than his stepbrother. When Emperor Claudius died in the year 54, after allegedly having been poisoned by Agrippina, the seventeen-year-old Nero (with the help of his mother) was able to ascend to the throne against very little resistance.

Even though mother and son had made a remarkable climb up the social ladder of ancient Rome, tensions quickly arose between Agrippina and Emperor Nero (r. 54-68). Most ancient sources described Agrippina the Younger as a domineering woman who wanted to control her son, or at least to play a role in his decision-making process. Nevertheless, Nero was at that age when teenagers can only think of rebelling against their parents. The first major breach in the relationship between Nero and Agrippina occurred in the year 55, when the young emperor decided to use one of his mother’s tricks in order to remove a potential rival. Unfortunately, this rival was Nero’s own stepbrother, Britannicus, who was only fourteen years old at the time. According to the Roman historian, Tacitus (c. 56/57-117), Nero had Britannicus poisoned while they were both feasting together with other noble youths in Rome. While Agrippina the Younger had been more than happy to knock Britannicus down a peg in the imperial succession, she was extremely displeased about the boy’s assassination and made her opinion publicly known. In response, Nero took away her guards and forced her to move to a different residence.

By the year 59, Nero, with the support of his friends and confidants, began reportedly scheming about ways to kill Agrippina. Ancient Roman historians, like Tacitus, Cassius Dio and Suetonius, alleged that Agrippina the Younger had long been paranoid about assassination, and had taken precautions to prevent such an outcome. She was said to have stocked up on antidotes and was diligent in hiring food-tasters, and, more importantly, she was a cautious and observant woman. Even so, a man in Nero’s entourage thought up a plan that was intricate enough to overcome Agrippina’s caution. According to the ancient sources, a certain Anicetus engineered and manufactured a beautiful ship that Nero luxuriously decorated and furnished. All of this was allegedly done to make Agrippina covet the ship.

In the month of March, after Agrippina had become accustomed to the ship’s presence, Nero invited his mother out to a place called Bauli, in the coastal region of Campania. While there, Nero convinced Agrippina to ride on the ship. At first, she was hesitant, yet her son was unfortunately able to talk her out of her fears. When Agrippina and at least two friends boarded the ship, little did they know that Nero’s companion, Anicetus, had rigged the vessel to have a catastrophic failure. According to Tacitus, the ship’s cabin imploded mid-way through the journey, crushing to death one of Agrippina’s friends and injuring the others. The next step of Nero’s plan was to sink the ship. Some accounts claimed that Anicetus had set up some way for the ship to take on water, while others wrote that accomplices among the crew threw their own weight against the sides of the ship in an attempt to make it tip over. In any event, some crewmen were apparently in on the plot, for Tacitus claimed that one woman was beaten to death with oars when she was mistakenly identified as Agrippina. Whatever the case, the ship was a deathtrap and it is this diabolical plot in action that Gustav Wertheimer brought to life in his artwork.

As the story goes, Agrippina survived the deadly ship. Wounded but still mobile, she had managed to dive into the water and swim for safety. The danger, however, was not over. Although Agrippina allegedly knew that her son was behind the ship’s collapse, she decided to play ignorant, and sent a message to Nero, telling him that she was ok and that he did not need to worry. When the messenger arrived, Nero was said to have placed a sword by the man’s feet and then had him arrested, pronouncing that he was an assassin sent by Agrippina. With that staged excuse, Nero sent Anicetus with a band of soldiers to surround Agrippina’s home and to finally finish the job. The soldiers found the emperor’s mother in her bedroom, recovering from wounds she suffered while on the imploding ship. This time, the assassins did not fail.

Written by C. Keith Hansley.

Sources:

Mark Twain

Mark Twain (c. 1835-1910)

“As soon as one is at rest, in this world, off he goes on something else to worry about.”

  • From chapter 5 of Mark Twain’s A Connecticut Yankee In King Arthur’s Court (Published in 1889). The edition used here is by Bantam/Random House (1981, 2005).

The Tale Of Sickly Zosimus The Bard

A man named Zosimus was a freedman who was employed as an entertainer by the Roman lawyer and statesman, Pliny the Younger (c. 61/62-113). Zosimus was an educated fellow with a talent for reading and reciting literature. He honed in himself the skills required for physically bringing literature to life, becoming a talented actor and a pleasant singer, as well as becoming an orator who could dynamically narrate poetry, books or speeches. These gifts were accompanied by great musical ability, as he could play musical instruments (his specialty being the lyre) to complement the literature that he presented. All in all, Zosimus was a talented performer who could dazzle any crowd. As described by his employer, Pliny the Younger, Zosimus was, “an honest fellow, obliging and educated, marked out by his talent for acting, where he has great success. His delivery is clear and intelligent, his acting correct and balanced, and he plays the lyre well, better than an actor need do. He also reads speeches, history, and poetry so well that it might be his sole accomplishment” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 5.19). Pliny had a great affection for the entertainer, not just for the man’s impressive abilities, but also on a personal level as a human being and a friend.

At some point during Zosimus’ employment with Pliny the Younger, the entertainer began to fall seriously ill. Zosimus, however, continued to push through his illness and performed despite his increasingly concerning symptoms. Ultimately, Zosimus was said to have been in the middle of a performance when he finally reached a breaking point that could no longer be ignored. As told by Pliny, “Some years ago he was exerting himself during a passionate performance when he began to spit blood. I then sent him to Egypt, and after a long stay there he recently returned with his health restored. Now after demanding too much of his voice for several days on end he has had a slight return of his cough as a reminder of the old trouble, and once again has brought up blood” (Pliny the Younger, Letters, 5.19). With the sudden and dramatic return of the performer’s symptoms, Pliny the Younger decided to send Zosimus off on another vacation for some rest and relaxation. Instead of sending the entertainer back to Egypt, this time Pliny sent Zosimus to the south of France (Gallia Narbonensis) to stay on the estate of a friend named Valerius Paulinus. The move likely did not improve Zosimus’ sickly condition, but Pliny and other friends kept the ailing performer well looked-after and presumably in good spirits until the end.

Written by C. Keith Hansley

Picture Attribution: (Musician from a terracotta amphora (jar), c. 490 BCE, attributed to the so-called Berlin Painter, [Public Domain] via Creative Commons and the MET.jpg).

 

Sources:

  • The Letters of Pliny the Younger, translated by Betty Radice. New York: Penguin Classics, 1963, 1969.

Achilles Mourning The Death Of Patroclus, By A Member Of The Circle Of Jacques-Louis David (c. 1748-1825)

This painting, produced by a member of the circle of Jacques-Louis David (c. 1748-1825), shows a pivotal scene from the storyline of the hero, Achilles, featured in Homer’s Trojan War epic poem, The Iliad. The artwork takes a snapshot of a specific event that occurred well into Homer’s war-torn plot, and before we comment further on the painting, a quick recap of The Iliad’s storyline may be helpful to bring context to the scene.

Achilles, while he served alongside the warriors of the Greek coalition during the Trojan War, had to grudgingly follow the lead of King Agamemnon (the commander-in-chief of the Greek forces for the duration of the Trojan War). Achilles’ obedience to the Greek leader was tested, however, when a chaotic dispute broke out over two women who had been captured by the Greeks during their siege of Troy. The women were named Chryseis and Briseis, the former being held by Agamemnon, and the latter being claimed by Achilles.

Chryseis, so the story goes, was the daughter of a priest of the god, Apollo. Her priestly father was greatly respected by the god that he served, and Apollo, in response to the imprisonment of his favored priest’s daughter, decided to ravage the Greek army with a terrible plague. In order to end the plague, the king needed only to return Chryseis to her father. Ultimately, Agamemnon agreed to let Chryseis go, but the king loathed to lose his spoils of war and decided to make up his losses by commandeering a captive from another leader in his army. To the dismay of the whole Greek coalition, Agamemnon decided that he wanted the other recently-captured woman, Briseis, whom Achilles had taken into custody. Although Achilles balked at the demand, King Agamemnon ultimately used his authority and status as leader of the Greek coalition to force Achilles to give up Briseis.

Agamemnon’s acquisition of Briseis came at a steep price. Although Achilles did indeed hand over the captive woman, the incident consequently angered the mighty Greek hero to the extent that he decided to cease his cooperation with the Greek war effort. At first, Achilles’ band of elite warriors—the Myrmidons—decided to join their leader in his protest. Yet, when the Greek forces at the siege of Troy began to struggle in the absence of their greatest fighters, certain members of Achilles’ warband felt the need to rejoin the battle, regardless of Achilles’ feud with Agamemnon. This brings us to the character, Patroclus—Achilles’s best friend and the man to whom the Greeks and other battle-eager Myrmidons turned when Achilles refused to fight.

Patroclus, unwilling to continue sitting out the war, decided to rejoin the battle. Hoping to boost the morale of the Greeks and to demoralize the Trojans, Patroclus decided to go to battle not in his own set of armor, but instead to show up for war in the famous gear of Achilles. When Patroclus did this, his actions, indeed, caught the eyes of the Trojans. In particular, it attracted the attention of Troy’s greatest hero, Hector, who engaged Patroclus in battle. Although Patroclus was a mighty warrior, he stood no match against Hector. In the end, Hector slew Patroclus in battle and looted the armor of Achilles that had been brought to the battlefield. News eventually trickled back to camp that Patroclus had died, and when Achilles learned of his best friend’s death, he flew into a rage. Achilles’ horrifying howls could be heard from the battlefield, flipping the momentum of the fray back into Greek favor. Patroclus’s body was recovered by Achilles, who decided to rejoin the war effort to seek revenge against Hector.

Yet, for Achilles to go back to battle, he would need a new set of armor, as his previous gear had been taken by Hector. This predicament was solved by Achilles’ mother, the influential nymph Thetis, who quickly traveled to the craftsman god Hephaestus and convinced the talented deity to fashion a new set of armor that was exponentially better than the last. It is approximately this point in the plot that is featured in the scene from the painting above—Achilles is displayed mourning over the body of Patroclus, presumably while Thetis is off fetching a new set of armor for her son. After Achilles accepted his new gear and ended his mourning, he rejoined the war and ultimately slew Hector in a famous duel. With Hector no longer manning the walls of Troy, the city was doomed to inevitably fall to the Greek siege. Yet, Troy’s last stand would also fatefully prove to be Achilles’ final battle.

 

Written by C. Keith Hansley

 

Sources: