Protesilaus - Trojan War

Trojan War

Protesilaus was one of the suitors of Helen. He brought forty black ships with him to Troy, drawing his men from flowering Pyrasus, coastal Antron and Pteleus, "deep in grass", in addition to his native Phylace. Protesilaus was the first to land: "the first man who dared to leap ashore when the Greek fleet touched the Troad, Pausanias recalled, quoting "the author of the epic called the Cypria". An oracle had prophesied that the first Greek to walk on the land after stepping off a ship in the Trojan War would be the first to die, and so, after killing four men, he was himself slain by Hector. After Protesilaus' death, his brother, Podarces, joined the war in his place. The gods had pity on his widow, Laodamia, daughter of Acastus, and brought him up from Hades to see her. She was at first overjoyed, thinking he had returned from Troy, but after the gods returned him to the underworld, she found the loss unbearable. She had a bronze statue of her late husband constructed, and devoted herself to it. After her worried father had witnessed her behavior, he had it destroyed; however, Laodamia jumped into the fire with it. Another source claims his wife was Polydora, daughter of Meleager.

According to legend, the Nymphs planted elms on the tomb, in the Thracian Chersonese, of "great-hearted Protesilaus" («μεγάθυμου Πρωτεσιλάου»), elms that grew to be the tallest in the known world; but when their topmost branches saw far off the ruins of Troy, they immediately withered, so great still was the bitterness of the hero buried below. The story is the subject of a poem by Antiphilus of Byzantium (1st century A.D.) in the Palatine Anthology:

Θεσσαλὲ Πρωτεσίλαε, σὲ μὲν πολὺς ᾄσεται αἰών,

Tρoίᾳ ὀφειλoμένoυ πτώματος ἀρξάμενoν•

σᾶμα δὲ τοι πτελέῃσι συνηρεφὲς ἀμφικoμεῦση

Nύμφαι, ἀπεχθoμένης Ἰλίoυ ἀντιπέρας.

Δένδρα δὲ δυσμήνιτα, καὶ ἤν ποτε τεῖχoς ἴδωσι

Tρώϊον, αὐαλέην φυλλοχoεῦντι κόμην.

ὅσσoς ἐν ἡρώεσσι τότ᾽ ἦν χόλoς, oὗ μέρoς ἀκμὴν

ἐχθρὸν ἐν ἀψύχoις σώζεται ἀκρέμoσιν.

[:Thessalian Protesilaos, a long age shall sing your praises,

Of the destined dead at Troy the first;

Your tomb with thick-foliaged elms they covered,

The nymphs, across the water from hated Ilion.

Trees full of anger; and whenever that wall they see,

Of Troy, the leaves in their upper crown wither and fall.

So great in the heroes was the bitterness then, some of which still

Remembers, hostile, in the soulless upper branches.]