The death of the bravest of the Greeks was followed by an unhappy quarrel between Ajax and Odysseus respecting his arms. Ajax, on account of his near relationship to the deceased hero, and the great services he had rendered to the cause of the Greeks, seemed to have the best claim; but Agamemnon, by the advice of Athene, adjudged them to Odysseus. Ajax was so mortified at this decision that he became insane, and put an end to his own life. An entire tragedy of Sophocles, treating of the mournful fate of the son of Telamon, has come down to us.

After Ajax had quitted the scene, Odysseus became decidedly the chief personage among the Greeks. It was he who captured the Trojan seer Helenus, and extorted from him the secret that Ilium could not be taken without the arrows of Heracles. Hereupon Philoctetes, who was still lying sick at Lemnos, was fetched, and his wound healed by Machaon. Paris soon afterwards fell by his hand. It was Odysseus, moreover, who, in company with Diomedes, undertook the perilous task of entering Troy in disguise and stealing the Palladium, on which the safety of the city depended. It was he who fetched Neoptolemus, the young son of Achilles, from Scyros to the Trojan camp, it having been decreed that his presence was necessary to the success of the Greeks. Lastly—and this was his greatest service—it was Odysseus who devised the celebrated wooden horse, and the stratagem which led to the final capture of the city. In the belly of the horse, which was built by Epeüs, one hundred chosen warriors of the Greeks concealed themselves. The rest of the Greeks set fire to their camp, and sailed away to Tenedos; whereupon the Trojans, deceived by the assurances of Sinon, dragged the fatal horse, amid cries of joy, into the city. In vain did the Trojan priest of Apollo, Laocoön, seek to divert them from their folly. None would give heed to his warnings; and when, soon afterwards, both he and his sons, whilst sacrificing to Poseidon on the sea-shore, were strangled by two serpents that came up out of the sea, the Trojans regarded this as a punishment sent by the gods for his evil counsel, and were the more confirmed in their purpose.

The death of Laocoön and his sons forms the subject of one of the most splendid of the creations of Greek art that have come down to us from antiquity. The group was found, in the year 1506, by a Roman citizen in his vineyard, close to the former Thermæ of Titus, and was made over by him, for a considerable annuity, to Pope Julius II., who then placed it in the Vatican collection. The right arm of Laocoön, which was wanting, has, unfortunately, been incorrectly restored. This is attested by a copy of the group which was subsequently discovered in Naples. We give an engraving of the group in its original form (Fig. 61).

It treats really of three distinct incidents, which have been skilfully incorporated, by the artists to whom we owe the work (the Rhodians Agesander, Athenodorus, and Polydorus), into one harmonious group. The eldest son is as yet unhurt, and appears to be so loosely held by the coils of the serpent that he might easily escape his impending fate, if he were not more effectually restrained by his loving sympathy with his noble father, on whom he gazes with piteous looks. Laocoön himself, who naturally forms the centre of the group, is depicted at the moment in which, mortally wounded by the serpent, he sinks on the altar, to rise from which he vainly exerts his last remaining strength. With his left arm he still mechanically seeks to repel the serpents. His hitherto energetic resistance has begun to fail, and his noble head is raised in mournful resignation to heaven, as though to ask the gods why they had condemned him to so terrible a fate. The dignified and resolute aspect of his countenance forms a beautiful contrast to that of his body, which is manifestly quivering in the keenest agony. The younger son on his right is already in the last agonies of death, and though his left hand grasps instinctively the head of the snake, he is evidently incapable of further resistance. He is drooping like a plucked flower, and in one more moment will have breathed his last.

On the night succeeding Laocoön’s horrible end, and the rejoicings of the Trojans at the apparent departure of the Greeks, the Greek fleet returned in silence at a signal given by Sinon. The heroes who were hidden in the wooden horse then descended and opened the gates to the Greek host, who rushed into the doomed city. A terrible scene of plunder and carnage ensued, the Trojans, in their dismay and confusion, offering no resistance. The fate of the sacred city was fulfilled; Priam perished before the altar of Zeus by the hand of Neoptolemus, and with him the glory of Troy was laid in the dust. The men were put to death, the women and children, together with the rich booty, were carried off, the former being destined to the hard lot of slavery. Among them was the aged queen Hecuba, with all her daughters and daughters-in-law. Helen—the cause of all this misfortune—was found in the house of Deïphobus, whom she had married after the death of his brother Paris.

The city was burnt to the ground, and, long after, other cities rose on its site. Still the tradition of the siege remained among the inhabitants, though, even in Roman times, learned men had begun to declare that Old Troy must have had another site. And now when the last Ilium had been no more for many centuries, and the very existence of Homer’s Troy had been declared a fable, the palace and the traces of the conflagration have been found. Dr. Schliemann has excavated the legendary site, and we know now that Athene was worshipped in the city, and that it perished by fire. We can hardly tell at present the full importance of these discoveries, nor of those at Mycenæ, where the traditional tombs of the Grecian leaders have been examined, and their long-buried wealth brought to light.

Yet this, too, the greatest of all the Grecian legend series, dissolves into the phenomena of nature. That there was a Trojan war, and that we have some historical facts about it, we can hardly doubt; but so many myths have crystallised round it, that to us it must be merely legend. The very names of Achilles, and Paris, and Helen, upon whom the whole story turns, have been recognised in Indian legend. Point after point in their history is found in the legend history of every nation of the Aryan family. The only conclusion that we can draw is, that such stories must have come into being before the separation of the Aryan family, and cannot therefore contain the later history of any one branch.

III. The Return.—The Greeks, after sacrificing Polyxena on the grave of Achilles at Sigeum, prepared to return to their country. Few, however, were destined to reach their homes without some misfortune, or, even when arrived there, to experience a kindly welcome. Of the two sons of Atreus, Agamemnon, after escaping a storm on the coast of Eubœa, landed safely on his native shores, but was soon after murdered by his wife and Ægisthus, who had, during his absence, returned to Argos and married Clytæmnestra. Cassandra, the Trojan prophetess, who, in the division of the spoils, had fallen to Agamemnon, shared his fate. She had continually predicted the unfortunate end of the war and the ultimate fate of the city, but had always been laughed to scorn by her incredulous countrymen. The fate of the commander of the Greeks, with its eventful consequences, was a favourite subject with the tragic poets. His murder did not go unavenged. Orestes, the only son of Agamemnon and Clytæmnestra, had been hastily removed from the scene by his sister Electra, and sent to his uncle, Strophius, king of Phocis. Strophius had him carefully educated with his own son Pylades, who was about the same age. A most intimate friendship soon sprang up between the two youths, which, from its faithfulness and constancy, has become proverbial. On reaching manhood, the sole thought of Orestes was to avenge his noble father’s treacherous death at the hands of the crafty Ægisthus and his mother Clytæmnestra. Accompanied by his friend Pylades, he returned, in the eighth year of his exile, to Mycenæ, and there slew both Ægisthus and Clytæmnestra. Although in so doing he had only fulfilled a duty, he yet incurred the deepest guilt by the murder of her who gave him birth, and at once found himself pursued by the avenging Furies. They dogged his steps, and ceased not to pursue him through all the countries of the earth, until he was at length directed by the oracle at Delphi to convey the statue of Artemis from Tauris to Attica. After he had, with the help of his newly-found sister, successfully achieved this task, he was purified by Apollo (see page 152). Of the numerous dramas that were written on the subject of the fortunes of the Pelopidæ, which we have here briefly touched on, the Agamemnon, Choëphoræ, and Eumenides of Æschylus, the Electra of Sophocles, and the Electra and Iphigenia in Tauris of Euripides, are still extant.

We must now turn to the fortunes of the other Greek leaders. Agamemnon’s brother Menelaus was overtaken, off Cape Malea, by a fearful storm, which carried him to Crete and Egypt, whence, after seven years of wandering, he returned to Sparta with Helen and his share of the spoils of Troy.

The Locrian Ajax experienced a still more unhappy fate. On the night of the destruction of Troy he had penetrated into the temple of Pallas, and had not only torn away the priestess Cassandra, who was clinging for safety to the altar and statue of the goddess, but had also overturned the statue of Pallas herself. As a punishment for this offence, his ship was wrecked on Cape Caphareus, He would still have been able to escape with his life—having succeeded in getting hold of a rock—if he had not given such offence to Poseidon by his impious boast that he needed not the help of the gods, that the god split the rock with his trident, whereupon Ajax fell into the sea and was drowned.

Diomedes, Philoctetes, and Idomeneus reached their homes in safety, but were all soon afterwards driven out, after which they all three emigrated to Italy. Here Diomedes founded many towns, and was long worshipped with heroic honours.

Teucer also succeeded in reaching Salamis in safety, but his father Telamon was so wroth because he had not better protected his brother Ajax, or at least avenged his death, that he refused to receive him. He was, therefore, likewise obliged to leave his country, and subsequently settled on the island of Cyprus.

But of all the Greek heroes Odysseus experienced the most reverses, while at home his faithful wife Penelope and his son Telemachus were hard pressed by the suitors. It was only in the tenth year after the fall of Troy, and after numerous wanderings and vicissitudes, that he was permitted to return to his native Ithaca and punish the shameless suitors who had wasted his substance and goods. The story of his adventures is so well known that we need not dwell on it here, further than to mention that, according to post-Homeric accounts, Odysseus was killed by the hand of Telegonus, his own son by Circe.

The events of the Trojan cycle have supplied not only the poet, but also the artist and the sculptor, with a large number of their most acceptable subjects. Single scenes, such as the judgment of Paris, have been continually selected, ever since the time of Raphael, as favourite subjects of representation. Of modern masters, Carstens, Thorwaldsen the great Danish sculptor, Cornelius, Genelli, and Preller (Landscapes of the Odyssey) have illustrated the story of Troy in a series of splendid compositions. We give an engraving of a relief by Thorwaldsen, representing Priam before Achilles (Fig. 62).

Of the more important extant works of antiquity, we may mention the wedding of Peleus and Thetis, depicted on the Français vase in the Naples Museum; the abduction of Helen, depicted on a marble relief in the former Campana collection, now in the Louvre (Fig. 63); the marble group in Rome, known by the name of “Pasquino,” which represents Menelaüs raising the corpse of Patroclus; and, lastly, the celebrated Ægina marbles in Munich. These last are the remains of a marble group from the gable of a temple of Pallas at Ægina, representing a battle between the Greeks and Trojans. They were discovered at Ægina in the year 1811; King Ludwig I. of Bavaria, who was a great patron of art, bought the Ægina marbles, and, after having them restored by Thorwaldsen, placed them in the Munich collection. The Laocoön, the most important of all the works relating to the Trojan cycle, has already been discussed.

We have already incidentally mentioned most of the seers of antiquity—Melampus, the son of Amythaon, who figures in Argive legend; likewise Amphiaraüs, Tiresias, and Calchas. Concerning Tiresias, we may remark that the ancients ascribed to him a fabulous age, extending over seven or even nine generations; so that he was thus a witness of all that happened to Thebes, from the foundation of the city to its destruction by the Epigoni. Like all celebrated soothsayers, he was acquainted with the language of birds, and could penetrate the most hidden secrets of nature; on which account he enjoyed up to his death an ever-increasing reputation among the Thebans. We have already related how, in extreme old age, when his native city could no longer withstand the assaults of the Epigoni, he experienced the bitter lot of having to take refuge in flight, and at length succumbed beneath the hardships of the journey. In the second century A.D. his grave was still shown in the neighbourhood of Haliartus.

Among the fugitive Thebans who fell into the hands of the Argives is said to have been Manto, the daughter of Tiresias, who was likewise renowned as a prophetess. She was dedicated, together with a large portion of the spoils, to the oracle at Delphi. By the command of the god she was sent into Asia Minor, where she founded the oracle of Claros, near Colophon. She here married the Cretan Rhacius, and became by him the mother of Mopsus, who afterwards founded the oracle of Mallos in Cilicia.

Among the names of the mythic bards that have been handed down to us are undoubtedly to be found some recollections of those who first cultivated the art of poetry; partly, however, they are nothing more than personifications of certain tendencies and modes of poetry. Such is probably the case with the mythic bard Linus, who was celebrated in Argos, Thebes, and Eubœa. Nothing is more common than for an unsophisticated people to burst forth in lamentation over the decay and final extinction of the blooming life of nature. This, as we see in the myth of Hyacinthus, was often portrayed under the metaphor of a beautiful boy slain by a quoit or by savage dogs—both symbols of the scorching heat of the sun. The dirges which from time immemorial were sung over the beautiful boy Linus, at the season of vintage, probably gave rise to the myth which makes Linus himself the singer.

Similar doleful memories are linked with the name of Orpheus, who is often termed a brother of Linus, though he was really not an Æolian, but a Thracian of Pieria. That which is best known of him is the story of his love for the beautiful nymph Eurydice. She was bitten in the foot by a snake, and thus snatched away from him by death. Orpheus then filled mountain and valley with songs of lamentation so piteous, that the wild beasts of the forest were enchanted at the sound, and followed him like lambs; and the very rocks and trees moved from their places. His yearning towards his beloved Eurydice induced him to descend to the lower world, to beg her release from the grim king of shadows. Here his piteous lay caused even the Erinyes to shed tears of compassion, and moved the hard heart of the Stygian king. He released Eurydice on condition that Orpheus should not look back on her till he reached the upper world. Orpheus, however, violated this condition, and Eurydice was once more lost to him. He himself, not long afterwards, whilst wandering in his despair over the Thracian mountains, was torn in pieces by some women in the mad excitement of their nightly Bacchanalian orgies.

A splendid representation of the second parting of the lovers by Hermes, the guide of souls, has come down to us on a marble relief, which is preserved in the Villa Albani (Fig. 64).