diff options
Diffstat (limited to 'old/50106-0.txt')
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50106-0.txt | 9267 |
1 files changed, 0 insertions, 9267 deletions
diff --git a/old/50106-0.txt b/old/50106-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index b6495d1..0000000 --- a/old/50106-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9267 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Greece and the Ægean Islands, by Philip Sanford Marden - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: Greece and the Ægean Islands - -Author: Philip Sanford Marden - -Release Date: October 1, 2015 [EBook #50106] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREECE AND THE ÆGEAN ISLANDS *** - - - - -Produced by KD Weeks, Shaun Pinder and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - Transcriber’s Note: - -Minor errors in punctuation and formatting have been silently corrected. -Please see the transcriber’s note at the end of this text for details -regarding the handling of any textual issues encountered during its -preparation. - -This version of the text cannot represent certain typographical effects. -Italics are delimited with the ‘_’ character as _italic_. The appearance -of blackletter font in the front matter is noted here by enclosing the -text in ‘~’ as ‘~blackletter text~’. - -The captions of the full-page illustrations have been indicated, moved -slightly to appear at paragraph breaks. - -Footnotes have been resequenced to be unique across the text, and were -moved to follow the referencing paragraph. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - GREECE - AND - THE ÆGEAN ISLANDS - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - -[Illustration: ACROPOLIS, SHOWING PROPYLÆA] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - GREECE - AND THE - ÆGEAN ISLANDS - - BY - - PHILIP SANFORD MARDEN - -[Illustration] - - - - - ~London~ - - ARCHIBALD CONSTABLE & CO., LTD. - - BOSTON AND NEW YORK - - HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN & CO. - 1907 - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - COPYRIGHT 1907 BY PHILIP S. MARDEN - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED - - - _Published November 1907_ - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - PROLEGOMENA - - -What follows makes no pretense whatever of being a scientific work on -Greece, from an archæological or other standpoint. That it is written at -all is the resultant of several forces, chief among which are the -consciousness that no book hitherto published, so far as I am aware, has -covered quite the same ground, and the feeling, based on the experience -of myself and others, that some such book ought to be available. - -By way of explanation and apology, I am forced to admit, even to myself, -that what I have written, especially in the opening chapters, is liable -to the occasional charge that it has a guide-bookish sound, despite an -honest and persistent effort to avoid the same. In the sincere desire to -show how easy it really is to visit Hellas, and in the ardent hope of -making a few of the rough places smooth for first visitors, I have -doubtless been needlessly prolix and explicit at the outset, notably in -dealing with a number of sordid details and directions. Moreover, to -deal in so small a compass with so vast a subject as that of ancient and -modern Athens is a task fraught with many difficulties. One certainly -cannot in such a book as this ignore Athens utterly, despite the fact -that so much has been published hitherto about the city and its -monuments that no further description is at all necessary. My object is -not to make Athens more familiar, but rather to describe other and more -remote sites in Greece for the information, and I hope also for the -pleasure, of past and future travelers. Athens, however, I could not -ignore; and while such brief treatment as is possible here is -necessarily superficial, it may help to awaken an additional interest in -that city where none existed before. - -Aside from the preliminary chapters and those dealing with Athens -itself, I hope to have been more successful. I have, at any rate, been -free in those other places from the depressing feeling that I was -engaged on a work of supererogation, since this part of the subject is -by no means hackneyed even through treatment by technical writers. Since -the publication of most of the better known books on Greek travel, a -great deal has been accomplished in the way of excavation, and much that -is interesting has been laid bare, which has not been adequately -described, even in the technical works. In dealing with these additions -and in describing journeys to less familiar inland sites, as well as -cruises to sundry of the classic islands of the Ægean, I hope this book -will find its real excuse for being. - -In adopting a system for spelling the names of Greek cities, towns, and -islands, I have been in something of a quandary, owing to the -possibilities presented by the various customs of authors in this field, -each one of which has something to recommend it and something, also, of -disadvantage. If one spells Greek names in the more common Anglicized -fashion, especially in writing for the average traveler, one certainly -avoids the appearance of affectation, and also avoids misleading the -reader by an unfamiliar form of an otherwise familiar word. Hence, after -much debate and rather against my own personal preferences and usage in -several instances, I have adhered in the main to the forms of name most -familiar to American eyes and ears. In cases of obscure or little known -sites, where it is occasionally more important to know the names as -locally pronounced, I have followed the Greek forms. This, while -doubtless not entirely logical, has seemed the best way out of a rather -perplexing situation, bound to be unsatisfactory whichever way one -attempts to solve the problem. - -In mercy to non-Hellenic readers, I have likewise sought to exclude with -a firm hand quotations from the Greek language, and as far as reasonably -possible to avoid the use of Greek words or expressions when English -would answer every purpose. - -If, in such places as have seemed to demand it, I have touched upon -archæological matters, I hope not to have led any reader far from the -truth, although one admittedly an amateur in such matters runs grave -risk in committing himself to paper where even the doctors themselves so -often disagree. I hope especially to have escaped advancing mere -personal opinions on moot points, since dilettanti in such a case have -little business to own any opinions, and none at all to exploit them to -the untutored as if they had importance or weight. Rather I have only -the desire to arouse others to a consciousness that it is as easy now to -view and enjoy the visible remnants of the glory that was Greece, as it -is to view those of the grandeur that was Rome. - -In the writing of these chapters an effort has been made to set forth in -non-technical terms only what the writer himself has seen and observed -among these haunts of remote antiquity, with the idea of confining the -scope of this book to the needs of those who, like himself, possess a -veneration for the old things, an amateur’s love for the classics, and a -desire to see and know that world which was born, lived, and died before -our own was even dreamed of as existing. If by what is written herein -others are led to go and see for themselves, or are in any wise assisted -in making their acquaintance with Greece, or, better still, are enabled -the more readily to recall days spent in that most fascinating of all -the bygone nations, then this book, however unworthily dealing with a -great subject, will not have been written in vain. - - PHILIP SANFORD MARDEN. - -LOWELL, MASS., August, 1907. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - TABLE OF CONTENTS - - I. TRAVELING IN GREECE 1 - - II. CRETE 18 - - III. THE ENTRANCE TO GREECE 37 - - IV. ATHENS; THE MODERN CITY 50 - - V. ANCIENT ATHENS: THE ACROPOLIS 76 - - VI. ANCIENT ATHENS: THE OTHER MONUMENTS 96 - - VII. EXCURSIONS IN ATTICA 123 - - VIII. DELPHI 146 - - IX. MYCENÆ AND THE PLAIN OF ARGOS 169 - - X. NAUPLIA AND EPIDAURUS 193 - - XI. IN ARCADIA 211 - - XII. ANDHRITSÆNA AND THE BASSÆ TEMPLE 229 - - XIII. OVER THE HILLS TO OLYMPIA 247 - - XIV. THE ISLES OF GREECE: DELOS 272 - - XV. SAMOS AND THE TEMPLE AT BRANCHIDÆ 286 - - XVI. COS AND CNIDOS 304 - - XVII. RHODES 318 - - XVIII. THERA 334 - - XIX. NIOS; PAROS; A MIDNIGHT MASS 351 - - XX. CORFU 368 - - INDEX 381 - - LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS - - PAGE - - ACROPOLIS, SHOWING PROPYLÆA _Frontispiece_ - - MAP 1 - - LANDING-PLACE AT CANEA 20— - - THRONE OF MINOS AT CNOSSOS 34 - - STORE-ROOMS IN MINOAN PALACE, CNOSSOS 36 - - OLD CHURCH IN TURKISH QUARTER, ATHENS 60 - - TEMPLE OF NIKÉ APTEROS 80 - - THE PARTHENON, WEST PEDIMENT 86 - - TEMPLE OF OLYMPIAN ZEUS 104 - - THE AREOPAGUS 108 - - THE THESEUM 112 - - TOMB AMPHORA, CERAMICUS 116 - - TOMB RELIEF, CERAMICUS 118 - - BRONZE EPHEBUS, NATIONAL MUSEUM, ATHENS 120 - - THE TEMPLE AT SUNIUM 134 - - THE APPROACH TO ÆGINA 138 - - THE TEMPLE AT ÆGINA 138 - - PEASANT DANCERS AT MENIDI 142 - - THE PLAIN BELOW DELPHI 150 - - THE VALE OF DELPHI 156 - - CHARIOTEER, DELPHI 166 - - AGORA, MYCENÆ 180 - - WOMAN SPINNING ON ROAD TO EPIDAURUS 198 - - - EPIDAURIAN SHEPHERDS 202 - - THEATRE AT EPIDAURUS 206 - - AN OUTPOST OF ARCADY 224 - - THE GORGE OF THE ALPHEIOS 226 - - ANDHRITSÆNA 230 - - AN ARBOREAL CAMPANILE. ANDHRITSÆNA 234 - - THRESHING FLOOR AT BASSÆ 240 - - TEMPLE AT BASSÆ, FROM ABOVE 244 - - TEMPLE AT BASSÆ, FROM BELOW 244 - - HERÆUM. OLYMPIA 258 - - ENTRANCE TO THE STADIUM. OLYMPIA 262 - - DELOS, SHOWING GROTTO 282 - - GROTTO OF APOLLO, DELOS 282 - - COLUMN BASES. SAMOS 296 - - CARVED COLUMN-BASE. BRANCHIDÆ 296 - - TREE OF HIPPOCRATES. COS 306 - - CNIDOS, SHOWING THE TWO HARBORS 314 - - SCULPTURED TRIREME IN ROCK AT LINDOS. 327 - (From a Sketch by the Author) - - ARCHED PORTAL OF ACROPOLIS. LINDOS 328 - - SANTORIN 336 - - LANDING-PLACE AT THERA 338 - - THERA 342 - - A THERAN STREET 346 - - OLD COLUMNS IN CHURCH, PAROS 362 - - “SHIP OF ULYSSES.” CORFU 374 - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - GREECE - - AND - - THE ÆGEAN ISLANDS - -[Illustration: - - SKETCH MAP - OF - GREECE - AND THE - ÆGEAN ISLANDS -] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER I. TRAVELING IN - GREECE - -[Illustration] - - -The days in which a visit to Greece might be set down as something quite -unusual and apart from the beaten track of European travel have passed -away, and happily so. The announcement of one’s intention to visit -Athens and its environs no longer affords occasion for astonishment, as -it did when Greece was held to be almost the exclusive stamping-ground -of the more strenuous archæologists. To be sure, those who have never -experienced the delights of Hellenic travel are still given to -wonderment at one’s expressed desire to revisit the classic land; but -even this must pass away in its turn, since few voyage thither without -awakening that desire. - -It is no longer an undertaking fraught with any difficulty—much less -with any danger—to visit the main points of interest in the Hellenic -kingdom; and, what is more to the purpose in the estimation of many, it -is no longer an enterprise beset with discomfort, to any greater degree -than is involved in a journey through Italy. The result of the growing -consciousness of this fact has been a steadily increasing volume of -travel to this richest of classic lands—richest not alone in its -intangible memories, but richest also in its visible monuments of a -remote past, presenting undying evidence of the genius of the Greeks for -expressing the beautiful in terms of marble and stone. One may, of -course, learn to appreciate the beautiful in Greek thought without -leaving home, embodied as it is in the imposing literary remains to be -met with in traversing the ordinary college course. But in order fully -to know the beauty of the sculptures and architecture, such as -culminated in the age of Pericles, one must visit Greece and see with -his own eyes what the hand of Time has spared, often indeed in -fragmentary form, but still occasionally touched with even a new -loveliness through the mellowing processes of the ages. - -To any thinking, reading man or woman of the present day, the memories, -legends, and history of ancient Greece must present sufficient -attraction. Few of us stop to realize how much of our modern thought and -feeling was first given adequate expression by the inhabitants of -ancient Athens, or how much of our own daily speech is directly -traceable to their tongue. Modern politics may still learn much tact of -Pericles, and oratorical excellence of Æschines, as modern philosophy -has developed from Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle. Is it not even true -that a large part of modern religious thought, the hope of glory at -least, if not the means of grace, finds its strongest foreshadowing in -the groping of the more enlightened Athenians for a hope of immortality -and life beyond the grave? The transition of the crowning architectural -glory of the Acropolis at Athens from a temple of the virgin (parthenos) -Athena to a church of the Virgin Mary was, after all, not so violent, -when it is remembered that the later paganism had softened from its old -system of corrupt personal deities to an abstract embodiment of their -chief attributes or qualities, such as wisdom, healing, love, and war. -Down to this day the traces of the pagan, or let us say the classic -period, are easy to discern, mingled with the modern Greek Christianity, -often unconsciously, and of course entirely devoid of any content of -paganism, but still unmistakably there. To this day festivals once -sacred to Asklepios still survive, in effect, though observed on -Christian holy days and under Christian nomenclature, with no thought of -reverence for the Epidaurian god, but nevertheless preserving intact the -ancient central idea, which impelled the worshiper to sleep in the -sanctuary awaiting the healing visit of a vision. In every church in -Greece to-day one may see scores of little metal arms, legs, eyes, and -other bodily organs hung up as votive offerings on the iconastasis, or -altar screen, just as small anatomical models were once laid by grateful -patients on the shrine of Asklepios at Cos. It is most striking and -impressive, this interweaving of relics of the old-time paganism with -the modern Greek religion, showing as it does a well-marked line of -descent from the ancient beliefs without violent disruption or -transition. It has become a well-recognized fact that certain modern -churches often directly replace the ancient temples of the spot in a -sort of orderly system, even if it be hard occasionally to explain. The -successors of the fanes of Athena are ordinarily churches of the Virgin -Mary, as was the case when the Parthenon was used for Christian worship. -In other sites the worship of Poseidon gave way to churches sacred to -St. Nicholas. The old temples of Ares occasionally flowered again, and -not inappropriately, as churches of the martial St. George. Dionysus -lives once more in churches named “St. Dionysius,” though no longer -possessing any suspicion of a Bacchic flavor. Most striking of all is -the almost appalling number of hills and mountains in Greece named “St. -Elias,” and often bearing monasteries or churches of that designation. -There is hardly a site in all Greece from which it is not possible to -see at least one “St. Elias,” and I have been told that this is nothing -more nor less than the perpetuation of the ancient shrines of Helios -(the sun) under a Christian name, which, in the modern Greek -pronunciation, is of a sound almost exactly similar to the ancient one. -The substitution, therefore, when Christianity came to its own, was not -an unnatural, nor indeed an entirely inappropriate, one. - -It all conspires to show that, while the modern Greek is sincerely and -devoutly a Christian, his transition into his new faith from the -religion of his remotest ancestors has been accompanied by a very -considerable retention of old usages and old nomenclature, and by the -persistence of ineradicable traces of the idealistic residuum that -remained after the more gross portions of the ancient mythology had -refined away and had left to the worshiper abstract godlike attributes, -rather than the gods and goddesses his forefathers had created in man’s -unworthy image. So, while nobody can call in question the Christianity -of the modern Greek, his churches nevertheless often do mingle a quaint -perfume of the ancient and classic days with the modern incense and odor -of sanctity. To my own mind, this obvious direct descent of many a -churchly custom or churchly name from the days of the mythical Olympian -theocracy is one of the most impressively interesting things about -modern Hellas and her people. - -In a far less striking, but no less real way, we ourselves are of course -the direct inheritors of the classic Greeks, legatees of their store of -thought, literature, and culture, and followers on the path the Greeks -first pioneered. They and not we have been the creators in civilization, -with all its varied fields of activity from politics to art. Of our own -mental race the Greeks were the progenitors, and it is enough to -recognize this fact of intellectual descent and kinship in order to view -the Athenian Acropolis and the Hill of Mars with much the same thrill -that one to-day feels, let us say, in coming from Kansas or California -to look upon Plymouth Rock, the old state house at Philadelphia, or the -fields of Lexington and Concord. - -All this by way of introduction to the thought that to visit Hellas is -by no means a step aside, but rather one further step back along the -highway traversed from east to west by the slow course of empire, and -therefore a step natural and proper to be taken by every one who is -interested in the history of civilized man, the better to understand the -present by viewing it in the light of the past. The “philhellene,” as -the Greeks call their friend of to-day, needs no apologist, and it is -notable that the number of such philhellenes is growing annually. - -Time was, of course, when the visit to Greece meant so much labor, -hardship, and expense that it was made by few. To-day it is no longer -so. One may now visit the more interesting sites of the Greek peninsula -and even certain of the islands with perfect ease, at no greater cost in -money or effort than is entailed by any other Mediterranean journey, and -with the added satisfaction that one sees not only inspiring scenery, -but hills and vales peopled with a thousand ghostly memories running far -back of the dawn of history and losing themselves in pagan legend, in -the misty past when the fabled gods of high Olympus strove, intrigued, -loved, and ruled. - -The natural result of a growing appreciation of the attractions of -Greece is an increase in travel thither, which in its turn has begotten -increasing excellence of accommodation at those points where visitors -most do congregate. Railroads have been extended, hotels have multiplied -and improved, steamers are more frequent and more comfortable. One need -no longer be deterred by any fear of hardship involved in such a -journey. Athens to-day offers hostelries of every grade, as does Rome. -The more famous towns likely to be visited can show very creditable inns -for the wayfarer, which are comfortable enough, especially to one inured -to the hill towns of Italy or Sicily. Railway coaches, while still much -below the standard of the corridor cars of the more western nations, are -comfortable enough for journeys of moderate length, and must inevitably -improve from year to year as the hotels have done already. As for safety -of person and property, that ceased to be a problem long ago. Brigandage -has been unknown in the Peloponnesus for many a long year. Drunkenness -is exceedingly rare, and begging is infinitely more uncommon than in -most Italian provinces and cities. Time is certain to remove the -objection of the comparative isolation of Greece still more than it has -done at this writing, no doubt. It is still true that Greece is, to all -intents and purposes, an island, despite its physical connection with -the mainland of Europe. The northern mountains, with the wild and -semi-barbaric inhabitants thereamong, serve to insulate the kingdom -effectually on the mainland side, just as the ocean insulates it on -every other hand, so that one is really more out of the world at Athens -than in Palermo. All arrival and departure is by sea; and even when -Athens shall be finally connected by rail with Constantinople and the -north, the bulk of communication between Greece and the western world -will still be chiefly maritime, and still subject, as now, to the delays -and inconveniences that must always beset an island kingdom. Daily -steamers, an ideal not yet attained, will be the one effective way to -shorten the distance between Hellas and Europe proper—not to mention -America. - -It may be added that one need not be deterred from a tour in Greece by a -lack of knowledge of the tongue, any more than one need allow an -unfamiliarity with Italian to debar him from the pleasures of Italy. The -essential and striking difference in the case is the distinctive form of -the Greek letters, which naturally tends to confuse the unaccustomed -visitor rather more than do Italian words, written in our own familiar -alphabet. Still, even one quite unfamiliar with the Hellenic text may -visit the country with comparatively little inconvenience from his -ignorance, if content to follow the frequented routes, since in these -days perfect English is spoken at all large hotels, and French at large -and small alike. Indeed, the prevalence of French among all classes is -likely to surprise one at first. The Greeks are excellent linguists, and -many a man or woman of humble station will be found to possess a fair -working knowledge of the Gallic tongue. It is entirely probable that in -a few more years the effect of the present strong tendency toward -emigration to America will reflect even more than it does now a general -knowledge of English among the poorer people. I have frequently met with -men in obscure inland towns who spoke English well, and once or twice -discovered that they learned it in my own city, which has drawn heavily -on the population of the Peloponnesus within recent years. - -If the traveler is fortunate enough to have studied ancient Greek in his -school and college days, and—what is more rare—retains enough of it to -enable him to recognize a few of the once familiar words, he will -naturally find a considerable advantage therein. It is often stated that -Greek has changed less since Agamemnon’s time than English has altered -since the days of Chaucer; and while this generalization may not be -strictly true, it is very near the fact, so that it is still possible -for any student well versed in the ancient Greek to read a modern -Athenian newspaper with considerable ease. The pronunciation, however, -is vastly different from the systems taught in England and in America, -so that even a good classical student requires long practice to deliver -his Greek trippingly on the tongue in such wise that the modern Athenian -can understand it. Grammatically speaking, Greek is to-day vastly -simpler than it was in the days of Plato. It has been shorn of many of -those fine distinctions that were, and are, such terrors to the American -schoolboy. But the appearance of the letters and words, with their -breathings and accents, is quite unchanged, and many of the ancient -words are perfectly good in modern Greek with their old meanings -unimpaired. When one has mastered the modern pronunciation, even to a -very moderate degree, one is sure to find that the once despised “dead -language” is not a dead language at all, but one in daily use by a -nation of people who may claim with truth that they speak a speech as -old as Agamemnon and far more homogeneous in its descent than modern -Italian as it comes from the Latin. - -It cannot be disguised, however, that it is very desirable at least to -know the Greek alphabet, even if one does not speak or read the -language, since this little knowledge will often serve to give one a -clue to the names of streets or railroad stations. Aside from that, the -few words the habitual traveler always picks up will serve as well in -Greece as anywhere. One should know, of course, the colloquial forms of -asking “how much?” and for saying “It is too dear.” These are the primal -necessities of European travel, always and everywhere. With these alone -as equipment, one may go almost anywhere on earth. In addition to these -rudimentary essentials, the ever-versatile Bædeker supplies, I believe, -phrases of a simple kind, devised for every possible contingency, remote -or otherwise, which might beset the traveler—omitting, curiously enough, -the highly useful expression for hot water, which the traveler will -speedily discover is “zestò nerò.” Among the conveniences, though not -essential, might be included a smattering of knowledge of the Greek -numerals to be used in bargaining with merchants and cab-drivers. But -since the Greek merchant, for reasons which will later appear, is never -without his pad and pencil, and since the written figures are the same -as our own, the custom is to conduct bargains with Europeans generally -by written symbols. The inevitable haggling over prices in the small -shops requires little more than the sign manual, plus a determination to -seem indifferent at all hazards. The Greek merchant, like every other, -regards the voyager from foreign parts as legitimate prey, and long -experience has led him to expect his price to be questioned. Hence -nothing would surprise a small dealer more than to be taken at his -initial figure, and the process of arriving at some middle ground -remotely resembling reasonableness is often a complicated but perfectly -good-humored affair. - -The cab-drivers present rather more difficulty. They seldom speak French -and they carry no writing pads. The result is a frequent -misunderstanding as to both price and destination, while in the -settlement of all differences at the close of the “course” both cabby -and his fare are evidently at a mutual linguistic disadvantage. The -trouble over the destination is twofold, as a rule. Part of the time the -cabman is “green” and not well acquainted with the city; and part of the -time he is wholly unable to recognize, in the name pronounced to him, -any suggestion of a street he may know perfectly well when pronounced -with the proper accent. The element of accent is highly important in -speaking Greek; for unless the stress is properly laid, a word will -often elude entirely the comprehension of the native, although every -syllable be otherwise correctly sounded. The names of the Greek streets -are all in the genitive case, which makes the matter still worse. It is -of small avail to say “Hermes Street” to a driver. He must have the -Greek for “Street of Hermes” in order to get the idea clearly in mind. -It is not safe to generalize, but I incline to rate the Greeks as rather -slower than Italians at grasping a foreigner’s meaning, despite their -cleverness and quickness at acquiring other languages themselves. -However, this is getting considerably ahead of our narrative and in -danger of losing sight of the main point, which is that Greece is easy -enough to visit and enjoy, even if one is ignorant of the language. For -those who feel safer to know a trifle of it, there is ample time on the -steamer voyage toward the Grecian goal to acquire all that ordinary -necessities demand. - -Let it be said, in passing from these general and preliminary remarks to -a more detailed discussion of Hellenic travel, that the modern Greek has -lost none of his ancient prototype’s reverence for the guest as a person -having the highest claims upon him and none of the ancient regard for -the sacred name of hospitality. Whatever may be said of the modern Greek -character, it cannot be called in question as lacking in cordiality and -kindness to the stranger. The most unselfish entertainer in the world is -the Greek, who conceives the idea that he may be able to add to your -happiness by his courtesy, and this is true in the country as well as in -the city. The native met on the highway has always a salutation for you. -If it is the season for harvesting grapes, you are welcome to taste and -see that they are good. He will welcome you to his house and set before -you the best it affords, the sweet “sumadha” or almond milk, the rich -preserved quince, the glass of pungent “mastika,” or perhaps a bit of -smoke-cured ham from the earthen jar which is kept for just such -occasions as this. If he sets out to entertain, nothing is done by -halves. The Greek bearing gifts need cause no fear to-day, unless it be -a fear of superabundant hospitality such as admits of no repayment. He -will drive a hard bargain with you in business, no doubt. Occasionally -an unscrupulous native will commit a petty theft, as in any other -country where only man is vile. But once appear to him in the guise of -friendship and he will prove himself the most obliging creature in the -world. He may not be as well aware of the general history of his remote -ancestors as you are yourself, but what he does know about his vicinity -he will relate to you with pride and explicitness. Curiously enough, the -Greek in ordinary station is likely to think you wish to see modern -rather than ancient things. He cannot understand why you go every -evening to the Acropolis and muse on the steps of the Parthenon while -you omit to visit the villas of Kephissià or Tatoïs. He would rather -show you a tawdry pseudo-Byzantine church than a ruined temple. But the -cordial spirit is there, and everybody who ever visited Greece has had -occasion to know it and admire it. - -There remains necessary a word as to the choice of routes to Greece. As -in the case of Venice, one may enter by either the front or the back -door, so to speak; and probably, as in the case of Venice, more actually -elect to enter by the rear. The two gateways of Hellas are the Piræus at -the eastern front, and Patras at the back. Either may be selected as the -point for beginning a land journey in the kingdom, and each has certain -advantages. In any event the visitor should enter by one portal and -leave by the other, and the direction may safely be left to be decided -by the convenience and aims of each particular visitor’s case. Taking -Naples as the natural starting-point of American travelers, two routes -lie open. One is the railroad to Brindisi, traversing the mountainous -Italian interior to the Adriatic coast, where on stated days very -comfortable steamers ply between Brindisi and Patras, touching at Corfù. -The other route is from Naples to the Piræus by sea on either French or -Italian steamers, the latter lines being slower and enabling stops in -Sicily and in Crete. To those fortunately possessed of ample time and -willing to see something of Magna Graecia as well as of Greece proper, -the slower route is decidedly to be recommended. - -For the purposes of this book let us choose to enter Greece by her -imposing main portal of the Piræus, setting at naught several -considerations which incline us to believe that, on the whole, the -advantage lies rather with the contrary choice. Whatever else may be -said in favor of either selection, it remains true that in any case one -immediately encounters mythology and legend in the shape of the wily -Ulysses, and is thus at once _en rapport_ with Grecian things. The -steamers from Naples must sail through the Strait of Messina, between -Scylla and Charybdis, once the terror of those mariners who had the -experiences of Homer’s wandering hero before their eyes; while not far -below Charybdis and just off the Sicilian shore they still show the -wondering traveler a number of small rocks, rising abruptly from the -ocean, as the very stones that Polyphemus hurled in his blind rage after -the fleeing Odysseus, but fortunately without doing him any harm. If, on -the contrary, we sail from Brindisi to Patras, we must pass Corfù, which -as all the world knows was the island on which Odysseus was cast from -his ship and where, after he had refreshed himself with sleep, he was -awakened by the laughter of Nausicaa and her maids as they played at -ball after the washing was done. Whichever way we go, we soon find that -we have run into a land older than those with which we have been -familiar, whose legends greet us even at this distance over miles of -tossing waves. Let those who are content to voyage with us through the -pages that follow, be content to reserve Corfù for the homeward journey, -and to assume that our prow is headed now toward Crete, through a -tossing sea such as led the ancients to exclaim, “The Cretan sea is -wide!” The shadowy mountains on the left are the lofty southern prongs -of the Grecian peninsula. Ahead, and not yet visible above the horizon, -is the sharp, razor-like edge of Crete, and the dawn should find us in -harbor at Canea. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER II. CRETE - -[Illustration] - - -The island of Crete, lying like a long, narrow bar across the mouth of -the Ægean Sea, presents a mountainous and rugged appearance to one -approaching from any side. Possessing an extreme length of about one -hundred and sixty miles, it is nowhere more than thirty-five miles in -width, and in places much less than that. A lofty backbone of mountain -runs through it from end to end. In all its coast-line few decent -harbors are to be found, and that of the thriving city of Canea, near -the northwestern end of the island, is no exception. In ancient times -the fortifications and moles that were built to protect the ports had in -view the small sailing vessels of light draught which were then common, -and today it is necessary for steamers of any size to anchor in the -practically open roadsteads outside the harbor proper. Needless to say, -landing in small boats from a vessel stationed at this considerable -distance outside the breakwater is a matter largely dependent on the -wind and weather, not only at Canea, with which we are at present -concerned, but at Candia, of which we shall speak later. In a north -wind, such as frequently blows for days together, a landing on the -northern coast is often quite impossible, and steamers have been known -to lie for days off the island waiting a chance to approach and -discharge. This contretemps, however, is less to be feared at Canea -because of the proximity of the excellent though isolated Suda Bay, -which is landlocked and deep, affording quiet water in any weather, but -presenting the drawback that it is about four miles from the city of -Canea, devoid of docks and surrounded by flat marshes. Nevertheless, -steamers finding the weather too rough off the port do proceed thither -on occasion and transact their business there, though with some -difficulty. The resort to Suda, however, is seldom made save in -exceedingly rough weather, for the stout shore boats of the Cretans are -capable of braving very considerable waves and landing passengers and -freight before the city itself in a fairly stiff northwest gale, as our -own experience in several Cretan landings has proven abundantly. It is -not a trip to be recommended to the timorous, however, when the sea is -high; for although it is probably not as dangerous as it looks, the row -across the open water between steamer and harbor is certainly rather -terrifying in appearance, as the boats rise and fall, now in sight of -each other on the crest of the waves, now disappearing for what seem -interminable intervals in the valleys of water between what look like -mountains of wave tossing angrily on all sides. The boatmen are skillful -and comparatively few seas are shipped, but even so it is a passage -likely to be dampening to the ardor in more ways than one. On a calm -day, when the wind is light or offshore, there is naturally no trouble, -and the boatmen have never seemed to me rapacious or insolent, but quite -ready to abide by the very reasonable tariff charge for the round trip. -In bad weather, as is not unnatural, it often happens that the men -request a gratuity over and above the established franc-and-a-half rate, -on the plea that the trip has been "molto cattivo" and the labor -consequently out of all proportion to the tariff charge—which is true. -It is no light task for three or four stout natives to row a heavy boat -containing eight people over such a sea as often is to be found running -off Canea, fighting for every foot of advance, and easing off now and -then to put the boat head up to an unusually menacing comber. - -[Illustration: LANDING-PLACE AT CANEA] - -The landing at Canea, if the weather permits landing at all, is on a -long curving stone quay, lined with picturesque buildings, including a -mosque with its minaret, the latter testifying to the considerable -residuum of Turkish and Mohammedan population that remains in this -polyglot island, despite its present Greek rule under the oversight of -the Christian powers of Europe. The houses along the quay are mostly a -grayish white, with the light green shutters one learns to associate -with similar towns everywhere in the Ægean. Behind the town at no very -great distance may be seen rising lofty and forbidding mountains, -snowcapped down to early May; but a brief ride out from the city to Suda -Bay will serve to reveal some fertile and open valleys such as save -Crete from being a barren and utterly uninviting land. The ordinary stop -of an Italian steamer at this port is something like six or eight hours, -which is amply sufficient to give a very good idea of Canea and its -immediate neighborhood. The time is enough for a walk through the -tortuous and narrow highways and byways of the city—walks in which one -is attended by a crowd of small boys from the start, and indeed by large -boys as well, all most persistently offering their most unnecessary -guidance in the hope of receiving “backsheesh,” which truly Oriental -word is to be heard at every turn, and affords one more enduring local -monument to the former rule of the unspeakable Turk. These lads -apparently speak a smattering of every known language, and are as quick -and alert as the New York or Naples gamin. Incidentally, I wonder if -every other visitor to Canea is afflicted with "Mustapha"? On our last -landing there we were told, as we went over the side of the steamer to -brave the tempestuous journey ashore in the boat which bobbed below, to -be sure to look for “Mustapha.” The captain always recommended Mustapha, -he said, and no Americano that ever enlisted the services of Mustapha as -guide, philosopher, and friend for four Canean hours had ever regretted -it. So we began diligent inquiry of the boatman if he knew this -Mustapha. Yes, he did—and who better? Was he not Mustapha himself, in -his own proper person? Inwardly congratulating ourselves at finding the -indispensable with such remarkable promptitude, we soon gained the -harbor, and the subsequent landing at the quay was assisted in by at -least forty hardy Caneans, including one bullet-headed Nubian, seven -shades darker than a particularly black ace of clubs, who exhibited a -mouthful of ivory and proclaimed himself, unsolicited, as the true and -only Mustapha,—a declaration that caused an instant and spontaneous howl -of derision from sundry other bystanders, who promptly filed their -claims to that Oriental name and all the excellences that it implied. -Apparently Mustapha’s other name was Legion. Search for him was -abandoned on the spot, and I would advise any subsequent traveler to do -the same. Search is quite unnecessary. Wherever two or three Caneans are -gathered together, there is Mustapha in the midst of them,—and perhaps -two or three of him. - -It is by no means easy to get rid of the Canean urchins who follow you -away from the landing-place and into the quaint and narrow streets of -the town. By deploying your landing party, which is generally -sufficiently numerous for the purpose, in blocks of three or four, the -convoy of youth may be split into detachments and destroyed in detail. -It may be an inexpensive and rather entertaining luxury to permit the -brightest lad of the lot to go along, although, as has been intimated, -guidance is about the last thing needed in Canea. The streets are very -narrow, very crooked, and not over clean, and are lined with houses -having those projecting basketwork windows overhead, such as are common -enough in every Turkish or semi-Turkish city. Many of the women go -heavily veiled, sometimes showing the upper face and sometimes not even -that, giving an additional Oriental touch to the street scenes. This -veiling is in part a survival of Turkish usages, and in part is due to -the dust and glare. It is a practice to be met with in many other Ægean -islands as well as in Crete. It is this perpetual recurrence of -Mohammedan touches that prevents Canea from seeming typically Greek, -despite its nominal allegiance. To all outward seeming it is Turkish -still, and mosques and minarets rise above its roofs in more than one -spot as one surveys it from the harbor or from the hills. The streets -with their narrow alleys and overshadowing archways are tempting indeed -to the camera, and it may as well be said once and for all that it is a -grave mistake to visit Greece and the adjacent lands without that -harmless instrument of retrospective pleasure. - -As for sights, Canea must be confessed to offer none that are of the -traditional kind, “double-starred in Bædeker.” There is no museum there, -and no ruins. The hills are too far away to permit an ascent for a view. -The palace of the Greek royal commissioner, Prince George, offers slight -attraction to the visitor compared with the scenes of the streets and -squares in the town itself, the coffee-houses, and above all the curious -shops. Canea is no mean place for the curio hunter with an eye to -handsome, though barbaric, blankets, saddle-bags, and the like. The -bizarre effect of the scene is increased by the manifold racial -characteristics of face, figure, and dress that one may observe there; -men and women quaintly garbed in the peasant dress of half a dozen -different nations. In a corner, sheltered from the heat or from the -wind, as the case may be, sit knots of weazen old men, cloaks wrapped -about their shoulders, either drinking their muddy coffee or plying some -trifling trade while they gossip,—doubtless about the changed times. -From a neighboring coffeehouse there will be heard to trickle a wild and -barbaric melody tortured out of a long-suffering fiddle that cannot, by -any stretch of euphemism, be called a violin; or men may be seen dancing -in a sedate and solemn circle, arms spread on each other’s shoulders in -the Greek fashion, to the minor cadences of the plaintive “bouzouki,” or -Greek guitar. There are shops of every kind, retailing chiefly queer -woolen bags, or shoes of soft, white skins, or sweetmeats of the Greek -and Turkish fashion. Here it is possible for the first time to become -acquainted with the celebrated “loukoumi” of Syra, a soft paste made of -gums, rosewater, and flavoring extracts, with an addition of chopped -nuts, each block of the candy rolled in soft sugar. It is much esteemed -by the Greeks, who are notorious lovers of sweetmeats, and it is -imitated and grossly libeled in America under the alias of “Turkish -Delight.” - -From Canea a very good road leads out over a gently rolling country to -Suda Bay. Little is to be seen there, however, save a very lovely -prospect of hill and vale, and a few warships of various nations lying -at anchor, representing the four or five jealous powers who maintain a -constant watch over the destinies of this troublous isle. The -cosmopolitan character of these naval visitants is abundantly testified -to by the signs that one may see along the highroad near Suda, ringing -all possible linguistic changes on legends that indicate facilities for -the entertainment of Jack ashore, and capable of being summed up in the -single phrase, “Army and Navy Bar.” The Greeks were ever a hospitable -race. - -The road to Suda, however, is far from being lined by nothing more -lovely than these decrepit wine shops for the audacious tar. The three -or four miles of its length lie through fertile fields devoted to olive -orchards and to the cultivation of grain, and one would look far for a -more picturesque sight than the Cretan farmer driving his jocund team -afield—a team of large oxen attached to a primitive plow—or wielding his -cumbersome hoe in turning up the sod under his own vine and olive trees. -It is a pleasing and pastoral spectacle. The ride out to Suda is easily -made while the steamer waits, in a very comfortable carriage procurable -in the public square for a moderate sum. It may be as well to remark, -however, that carriages in Greece are not, as a rule, anywhere nearly as -cheap as in Italy. - -It is a long jump from Canea to Candia, the second city of the island, -situated many miles farther to the east along this northern shore. But -it easily surpasses Canea in classic interest, being the site of the -traditional ruler of Crete in the most ancient times,—King Minos,—of -whom we shall have much to say. Candia, as we shall call it, although -its local name is Megalokastron, is not touched by any of the steamers -en route from the west to Athens, but must be visited in connection with -a cruise among the islands of the Ægean. From the sea it resembles Canea -in nature as well as in name. It shows the same harbor fortifications of -Venetian build, and bears the same lion of St. Mark. It possesses the -same lack of harborage for vessels other than small sailing craft. Its -water front is lined with white houses with green blinds, and slender -white minarets stand loftily above the roofs. Its streets and squares -are much like Canea’s, too, although they are rather broader and more -modern in appearance; while the crowds of people in the streets present -a similar array of racial types to that already referred to in -describing the former city. More handsome men are to be seen, splendid -specimens of humanity clad in the blue baggy trousers and jackets of -Turkish cut, and wearing the fez. Candia is well walled by a very thick -and lofty fortification erected in Venetian times, and lies at the -opening of a broad valley stretching across the island to the south, and -by its topography and central situation was the natural theatre of -activity in the distant period with which we are about to make our first -acquaintance. Even without leaving the city one may get some idea of the -vast antiquity of some of its relics by a visit to the museum located in -an old Venetian palace in the heart of the town, where are to be seen -the finds of various excavators who have labored in the island. Most of -these belong to a very remote past, antedating vastly the Mycenæan -period, which used to seem so old, with its traditions of Agamemnon and -the sack of Troy. Here we encounter relics of monarchs who lived before -Troy was made famous, and the English excavator, Evans, who has exhumed -the palace of Minos not far outside the city gates, has classified the -articles displayed as of the “Minoan” period. It would be idle in this -place to attempt any detailed explanation of the subdivisions of -“early,” “middle,” and “late Minoan” which have been appended to the -manifold relics to be seen in the museum collection, or to give any -detailed description of them. It must suffice to say that the period -represented is so early that any attempt to affix dates must be -conjectural, and that we may safely take it in general terms as a period -so far preceding the dawn of recorded history that it was largely -legendary even in the time of the classic Greeks, who already regarded -Minos himself as a demi-god and sort of immortal judge in the realm of -the shades. The museum, with its hundreds of quaint old vases, rudely -ornamented in geometric patterns, its fantastic and faded mural -paintings, its sarcophagi, its implements of toil, and all the manifold -testimony to a civilization so remote that it is overwhelming to the -mind, will serve to hold the visitor long. Nor is it to be forgotten -that among these relics from Cnossos, Phæstos, and Gortyn, are many -contributed by the industry and energy of the American investigator, -Mrs. Hawes (_née_ Boyd), whose work in Crete has been of great value and -archæological interest. - -Having whetted one’s appetite for the remotely antique by browsing -through this collection of treasures, one is ready enough to make the -journey out to Cnossos, the site of the ancient palace, only four miles -away. There is a good road, and it is possible to walk if desired, -although it is about as hot and uninteresting a walk as can well be -imagined. It is easier and better to ride, although the Cretan drivers -in general, and the Candian ones in particular, enjoy the reputation of -being about the most rapacious in the civilized world. On the way out to -the palace at Cnossos, the road winds through a rolling country, and -crosses repeatedly an old paved Turkish road, which must have been much -less agreeable than the present one to traverse. On the right, far away -to the southwest, rises the peak which is supposed to be the birthplace -of Zeus, the slopes of Mt. Ida. Crete is the land most sacred to Zeus of -all the lands of the ancient world. Here his mother bore him, having -fled thither to escape the wrath of her husband, the god Cronos, who had -formed the unbecoming habit of swallowing his progeny as soon as they -were born. Having been duly delivered of the child Zeus, his mother, -Rhæa, wrapped up a stone in some cloth and presented it to Cronos, who -swallowed it, persuaded that he had once more ridded the world of the -son it was predicted should oust him from his godlike dignities and -power. But Rhæa concealed the real Zeus in a cave on Ida, and when he -came to maturity he made war on Cronos and deprived him of his dominion. -Hence Zeus, whose worship in Crete soon spread to other islands and -mainland, was held in highest esteem in the isle of his birth, and his -cult had for its symbol the double-headed axe, which we find on so many -of the relics of the Candia museum and on the walls of the ancient -palaces, like that we are on the way to visit at Cnossos. - -It is necessary to remark that there were two characters named Minos in -the ancient mythology. The original of the name was the child of Zeus -and Europa, and he ruled over Crete, where Saturn is supposed to have -governed before him, proving a wise law-giver for the people. The other -Minos was a grandson of the first, child of Lycastos and Ida. This Minos -later grew up and married Pasiphaë, whose unnatural passion begot the -Minotaur, or savage bull with the body of a man and an appetite for -human flesh. To house this monster Minos was compelled to build the -celebrated labyrinth, and he fed the bull with condemned criminals, who -were sent into the mazes of the labyrinth never to return. Still later, -taking offense at the Athenians because in their Panathenaic games they -had killed his own son, Minos sent an expedition against them, defeated -them, and thereafter levied an annual tribute of seven boys and seven -girls upon the inhabitants, who were taken to Crete and fed to the -Minotaur. This cruel exaction continued until Theseus came to Crete and, -with the aid of the thread furnished him by Ariadne, tracked his way -into the labyrinth, slaughtered the monster and returned alive to the -light of day. Of course such a network of myths, if it does nothing -else, argues the great antiquity of the Minoan period, to which the -ruins around Candia are supposed to belong, and they naturally lead us -to an inquiry whether any labyrinth was ever found or supposed to be -found in the vicinity. I believe there actually is an extensive -artificial cave in the mountains south of Cnossos, doubtless an ancient -subterranean quarry, which is called “the labyrinth” to-day, though it -doubtless never sheltered the Minotaur. It is sufficiently large to have -served once as the abode of several hundred persons during times of -revolution, they living there in comparative comfort save for the lack -of light; and it is interesting to know that they employed Ariadne’s -device of the thread to keep them in touch with the passage out of their -self-imposed prison when the political atmosphere cleared and it was -safe to venture forth into the light of day. It seems rather more -probable that the myth or legend of the labyrinth of Minos had its -origin in the labyrinthine character of the king’s own palace, as it is -now shown to have been a perfect maze of corridors and rooms, through -which it is possible to wander at will, since the excavators have laid -them open after the lapse of many centuries. A glance at the plans of -the Cnossos palace in the guide-books, or a survey of them from the top -of Mr. Evans’s rather garish and incongruous but highly useful tower on -the spot, will serve to show a network of passageways and apartments -that might easily have given rise to the tale of the impenetrable -man-trap which Theseus alone had the wit to evade. - -The ruins lie at the east of the high road, in a deep valley. Their -excavation has been very complete and satisfactory, and while some -restorations have been attempted here and there, chiefly because of -absolute necessity to preserve portions of the structure, they are not -such restorations as to jar on one, but exhibit a fidelity to tradition -that saves them from the common fate of such efforts. Little or no -retouching was necessary in the case of the stupendous flights of steps -that were found leading up to the door of this prehistoric royal -residence, and which are the first of the many sights the visitor of -to-day may see. It is in the so-called “throne room of Minos” that the -restoring hand is first met. Here it has been found necessary to provide -a roof, that damage by weather be avoided; and to-day the throne room is -a dusky spot, rather below the general level of the place. Its chief -treasure is the throne itself, a stone chair, carved in rather -rudimentary ornamentation, and about the size of an ordinary chair. The -roof is supported by the curious, top-heavy-looking stone pillars, that -are known to have prevailed not only in the Minoan but in the Mycenæan -period; monoliths noticeably larger at the top than at the bottom, -reversing the usual form of stone pillar with which later ages have made -us more familiar. This quite illogical inversion of what we now regard -as the proper form has been accounted for in theory, by assuming that it -was the natural successor of the sharpened wooden stake. When the -ancients adopted stone supports for their roofs, they simply took over -the forms they had been familiar with in the former use of wood, and the -result was a stone pillar that copied the earlier wooden one in shape. -Time, of course, served to show that the natural way of building -demanded the reversal of this custom; but in the Mycenæan age it had not -been discovered, for there are evidences that similar pillars existed in -buildings of that period, and the representation of a pillar that stands -between the two lions on Mycenæ’s famous gate has this inverted form. - -[Illustration: THRONE OF MINOS AT CNOSSOS] - -Many hours may be spent in detailed examination of this colossal ruin, -testifying to what must have been in its day an enormous and impressive -palace. One cannot go far in traversing it without noticing the traces -still evident enough of the fire that obviously destroyed it many -hundred, if not several thousand, years before Christ. Along the western -side have been discovered long corridors, from which scores of long and -narrow rooms were to be entered. These, in the published plans, serve to -give to the ruin a large share of its labyrinthine character. It seems -to be agreed now that these were the store-rooms of the palace, and in -them may still be seen the huge earthen jars which once served to -contain the palace supplies. Long rows of them stand in the ancient -hallways and in the narrow cells that lead off them, each jar large -enough to hold a fair-sized man, and in number sufficient to have -accommodated Ali Baba and the immortal forty thieves. In the centre of -the palace little remains; but in the southeastern corner, where the -land begins to slope abruptly to the valley below, there are to be seen -several stories of the ancient building. Here one comes upon the rooms -marked with the so-called “distaff” pattern, supposed to indicate that -they were the women’s quarters. The restorer has been busy here, but not -offensively so. Much of the ancient wall is intact, and in one place is -a bath-room with a very diminutive bath-tub still in place. Along the -eastern side is also shown the oil press, where olives were once made to -yield their coveted juices, and from the press proper a stone gutter -conducted the fluid down to the point where jars were placed to receive -it. This discovery of oil presses in ancient buildings, by the way, has -served in more than one case to arouse speculation as to the antiquity -of oil lamps, such as were once supposed to belong only to a much later -epoch. Whether in the Minoan days they had such lamps or not, it is -known that they had at least an oil press and a good one. In the side of -the hill below the main palace of Minos has been unearthed a smaller -structure, which they now call the “villa,” and in which several -terraces have been uncovered rather similar to the larger building -above. Here is another throne room, cunningly contrived to be lighted by -a long shaft of light from above falling on the seat of justice itself, -while the rest of the room is in obscurity. - -It may be that it requires a stretch of the imagination to compare the -palace of Cnossos with Troy, but nevertheless there are one or two -features that seem not unlike the discoveries made by Dr. Schliemann on -that famous site. Notably so, it seems to me, are the traces of the -final fire, which are to be seen at Cnossos as at Troy, and the huge -jars, which maybe compared with the receptacles the Trojan excavators -unearthed, and found still to contain dried peas and other things that -the Trojans left behind when they fled from their sacked and burning -city. Few are privileged to visit the site of Priam’s city, which is -hard indeed to reach; but it is easy enough to make the excursion to -Candia and visit the palace of old King Minos, which is amply worth the -trouble, besides giving a glimpse of a civilization that is possibly -vastly older than even that of Troy and Mycenæ. For those who reverence -the great antiquities, Candia and its pre-classic suburb are distinctly -worth visiting, and are unique among the sights of the ancient Hellenic -and pre-Hellenic world. - -[Illustration: STORE-ROOMS IN MINOAN PALACE, CNOSSOS] - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER III. THE ENTRANCE - TO GREECE - -[Illustration] - - -Leaving Crete behind, the steamer turns her prow northward into the -Ægean toward Greece proper, and in the early morning, if all goes -smoothly, will be found well inside the promontory of Sunium, -approaching the Piræus. One ought most infallibly to be early on deck, -for the rugged, rocky shores of the Peloponnesus are close at hand on -the left, indented here and there by deep inlets or gulfs, and looking -as most travelers seem to think “Greece ought to look.” If it is clear, -a few islands may be seen on the right, though none of the celebrated -ones are near enough to be seen with any satisfaction. Sunium itself is -so far away to the eastward that it is impossible at this distance to -obtain any idea of the ancient ruin that still crowns its summit. - -Although to enter Greece by way of the Piræus is actually to enter the -front door of the kingdom, nevertheless, as has been hinted heretofore, -one may vote on the whole that it is better to make this the point of -departure instead of that of initiation. Leaving Greece as most of us do -with a poignant sense of regret, it is not unfitting that we depart with -the benediction of the old Acropolis of Athens, crowned with its famous -ruins, which are to be seen even when far at sea, glowing in the -afternoon sun, and furnishing an ideal last view of this land of golden -memories. Simply because it makes such an ideal last view, leaving the -crowning “glory that was Greece” last in the mind’s eye, one may well -regard this point as the best one for leaving, whatever may be said for -it as a place of beginning an acquaintance with Hellas. It must be -confessed that to one approaching for the first time, save in the -clearest weather, the view of the Acropolis from the sea is likely to be -somewhat disappointing, because the locating of it in the landscape is -not an easy matter. Under a cloudy sky—and there are occasionally such -skies even in sunny Greece—it is not at all easy to pick out the -Acropolis, lying low in the foreground and flanked by such superior -heights as Lycabettus and Pentelicus. Hence it is that the voyager, -returning home from a stay in Athens, enjoys the seaward view of the -receding site far more than the approaching newcomer; and it must be -added that, however one may reverence the Acropolis from his reading, it -can never mean so much to him as it will after a few days of personal -acquaintance, when he has learned to know its every stone. What slight -disappointment one may feel on first beholding the ancient rock of -Athena from the ocean, is, after all, only momentary and due solely to -the distance. It is certain to be removed later when closer acquaintance -shows it to be the stupendous rock it really is, standing alone, and -seen to better advantage than when the hills that wall the Attic plain -overshadow it in the perspective. - -As the steamer approaches, the loftier heights of Hymettus, Pentelicus, -Parnes, Ægina, and Salamis intrude themselves and will not be denied, -framing between them the valley in which Athens lies, obscured for the -time being by the tall chimneys and the forest of masts that herald the -presence of the Piræus in the immediate foreground. That city is as of -yore the seaport of Athens, and is a thriving city in itself, although -from its proximity to the famous capital it loses individual prestige, -and seems rather like a dependence of the main city than a separate and -important town, rivaling Athens herself in size, if not in history. - -Perhaps the most trying experience to the newcomer is this landing at -the Piræus and the labor involved in getting ashore and up to Athens; -but, after all, it is trying only in the sense that it is a matter for -much bargaining, in which the unfamiliar visitor is at an obvious -disadvantage. As in all Greek ports, the landing is to be accomplished -only by small boats, which are manned by watermen having no connection -at all with the steamship companies. It would seem to be the reasonable -duty of a steamer line to provide facilities for setting its passengers -ashore, and in time this may be done; but it is an unfortunate fact that -it is not done now, and the passenger is left to bargain for himself -with the crowd of small craft that surrounds the vessel as she is slowly -and painfully berthed. The harbor itself is seen to be a very excellent -and sheltered one, protected by two long breakwaters, which admit of -hardly more than a single large vessel at a time between their narrow -jaws. Within, it opens out into a broad expanse of smooth water, lined -throughout its periphery by a low stone quay. While the steamer is being -warped to her position, always with the stern toward the shore, a fleet -of small boats, most of them flying the flags of hotels in Athens or of -the several tourist agencies, eagerly swarm around and await the -lowering of the landing stairs, meantime gesticulating violently to -attract the attention of passengers on deck. Little that is definite, -however, can be done until the gangway is lowered and the boatmen’s -representatives have swarmed on the deck itself. There is time and to -spare, so that the voyager has no occasion to hurry, but may possess his -soul in patience and seek to make the most advantageous terms possible -with the lowest bidder. The boatmen, be well assured, know English -enough to negotiate the bargain. - -Despite the apparent competition, which ought by all the laws of -economics to be the life of trade, it will doubtless be found quite -impossible to make any arrangement for landing and getting up to the -city for a sum much under twelve francs. That is the published tariff of -the hotels which send out boats, and if one is certain of his -stopping-place in Athens he will doubtless do well to close immediately -with the boatman displaying the insignia of that particular hostelry. -But it is entirely probable that any regular habitué would say that the -hotel tariff is grossly out of proportion to the actual cost, since the -boatman’s fee should be not more than a franc and the ride to Athens not -more than six. As for the tourist agencies, they may be depended upon to -ask more than the hotel runners do, and the only limit is the visitor’s -credulity and ignorance of the place. Whatever bargain is made, the -incoming passenger will, if wise, see to it that it is understood to -cover everything, including the supposititious “landing tax” that is so -often foisted upon the customer after landing in Athens as an “extra.” -These are doubtless sordid details, but necessary ones, and matters -which it may prove profitable to understand before venturing in. Having -dismissed them as such, we may turn with more enjoyment to the prospect -now presenting itself. - -Piræus, as all the world knows, is the port of Athens now as in classic -times. Topographically it has three good harbors, the Piræus proper, -Zea, and Munychia—the latter name also applying to the rocky promontory -which juts out and separates the harbor from the Saronic Gulf. It was on -the Munychia peninsula that Themistocles in 493 B.C. erected a town, and -it was Themistocles, also, who conceived and carried out the scheme for -the celebrated “long walls” which ran from the port up to Athens, and -made the city practically impregnable by making it quite independent of -the rest of Attica, so long as the Athenian supremacy by sea remained -unquestioned. Thus it came to pass that, during the Peloponnesian War, -when all the rest of the Attic plain had fallen into the hands of the -Lacedæmonians, Athens herself remained practically undisturbed, thanks -not only to the long walls and ships, but also to the fortifications of -Cimon and Pericles. The Athenian navy, however, was finally overwhelmed -in the battle of Ægospotamoi in 404 B.C., and the port fell a prey to -the enemy, who demolished the long walls, to the music of the flute. - -Ten years later, when Athens had somewhat recovered from the first -defeat, Conon rebuilt the walls, and Athens, with Piræus, for a space -enjoyed a return of her ancient greatness and prosperity. The Roman -under Sulla came in 86 B.C., and practically put an end to the famous -capital, which became an inconsiderable village, and so remained down to -the Grecian risorgimento. The present city of Piræus, and the city of -Athens also, practically date from 1836, though the old names had been -revived the year previous. Up to that time the spot had for years passed -under the unclassic name of Porto Leone. - -Inasmuch as the fame of Athens and her empire rested on the navy as its -foundation, and inasmuch as the navy made its home in the waters of the -Piræus and Munychia, the locality has its glorious memories to share -with the still more glorious traditions of the neighboring Salamis, -where the Persians of Xerxes were put to such utter rout. It was from -this harbor that the splendid, but ill-fated, Sicilian expedition set -out, with flags flying, pæans sounding, and libations pouring. And it -was to the Piræus that a lone survivor of that sorry campaign returned -to relate the incredible news to the village barber. - -The harbor of the Piræus is generally full of shipping of all sorts, -including steamers of every size and nationality, as well as high-sided -schooners that recall the Homeric epithet of the “hollow ships.” Some -are en route to or from Constantinople, Alexandria, Naples, the ports of -the Adriatic, the Orient,—everywhere. The Greek coastwise vessels often -bear their names printed in large white letters amidships, familiar -names looking decidedly odd in the Greek characters. All are busily -loading or discharging, for the Piræus is, as ever, a busy port. Under -the sterns of several such ships the shore boat passes, its occupants -ducking repeatedly under the sagging stern cables, until in a brief time -all are set ashore at the custom-house. That institution, however, need -give the visitor little apprehension. The examination of reasonable -luggage is seldom or never oppressive or fraught with inconvenience, -doubtless because the visitor is duly recognized by the government as a -being whose presence is bound to be of profit, and who should not, -therefore, be wantonly discouraged at the very threshold of the kingdom. -Little is insisted on save a declaration that the baggage contains no -tobacco or cigarettes. The porters as a rule are more tolerant of copper -tips than the present rapidly spoiling race of Italian _facchini_. - -The sensible way to proceed to Athens is by carriage, taking the -Phalerum road. The electric tram, which is a very commodious third-rail -system resembling the subway trains of Boston or New York, is all very -well if one is free from impedimenta. But for the ordinary voyager, with -several valises or trunks, the carriage is not only best but probably -the most economical in the end. The carriages are comfortable, and -capable of carrying four persons with reasonable baggage. - -Little of interest will be found in driving out of the Piræus, which is -a frankly commercial place, devoid of architectural or enduring -classical recommendations. The long walls that once connected the port -with Athens have disappeared almost beyond recall, although the sites -are known. Nor is the beach of New Phalerum (pronounced Fál-eron) much -more attractive than the Piræus itself. It reminds one strongly of -suburban beach places at home, lined as it is with cheap cottages, -coffee-houses, restaurants, bicycle shops, and here and there a more -pretentious residence, while at least one big and garish hotel is to be -seen. The sea, varying from a light green to a deep Mediterranean blue, -laps gently along the side of the highway toward the open ocean, while -ahead, up the straight boulevard, appears the Acropolis of Athens, now -seen for the first time in its proper light as one of the most -magnificent ruins of the earth. The road thither is good but -uncomfortably new. When its long lines of pepper trees, now in their -infancy, shall have attained their growth, it will be a highway lined -with shade and affording a prospect of much beauty. In its present -state, however, which is destined to endure for some years to come, it -is a long, straight, and rather dreary boulevard, relieved only by the -glorious prospect of the crowning ruin of Athens something like four -miles away, but towering alone and grand, and no longer dwarfed by the -surrounding gray hills. Still this route seems to me infinitely better, -even to-day, than the older road from Piræus, which approaches Athens -from the western side without going near the sea, but which is not -without its charms, nevertheless, and certainly does give the one who -takes it a splendid view of the imposing western front of the Acropolis -and its array of temples, across a plain green with waving grasses. - -Approaching the city from the Phalerum side serves to give a very -striking impression of the inaccessibility of the Acropolis, showing its -precipitous southern face, crowned by the ruined Parthenon, whose -ancient pillars, weathered to a golden brown, stand gleaming in the sun -against the deep and brilliant blue of the Greek sky. Those who have -pictured the temple as glistening white will be vastly surprised, no -doubt, on seeing its actual color; for the iron and other metals present -in the Pentelic marble, of which it was built, have removed almost -entirely the white or creamy tints, and have given in their place a rich -mottled appearance, due to the ripe old age of this shrine. - -Aside from the ever present prospect of the Acropolis and its promise of -interest in store, the road to Athens is devoid of much to attract -attention. The long, gray ridge of Hymettus, which runs along just east -of the road, of course is a famous mountain by reason of its well-known -brand of honey, if for no other reason. Halfway up the gradual incline -to the city there is a small and rather unattractive church, said to be -a votive offering made by the king in thankfulness at escaping the -bullets of two would-be assassins at this point. On the left, and still -far ahead, rises the hill, crowned by the ruined but still conspicuous -monument of Philopappus. Situated on a commanding eminence south of the -Acropolis, this monument is a dominant feature of almost every view of -Athens; but it is entirely out of proportion to the importance of the -man whose vague memory it recalls. - -Passing the eastern and most lofty end of the Acropolis, the carriage at -last turns into the outskirts of the city proper and traverses a broad -and pleasant avenue, its wide sidewalks shaded by graceful and luxuriant -pepper trees, while the prosperous looking houses give an attractive -first impression of residential Athens. The modern is curiously -intermingled with the ancient; for on the right, in the fields which -border the highway, are to be seen the few remaining colossal columns of -the rather florid temple of Olympian Zeus and the fragmentary arch of -Hadrian, the Roman emperor in whose reign that temple was at last -completed. It is peculiarly fitting to enter Athens between these ruins -on the one hand and the Acropolis on the other, for they are so -characteristic of the great chief attraction of the place,—its immortal -past. - -The city proper now opens out before, and as the carriage enters the -great principal square of Athens, the “Syntagma,” or Place de la -Constitution, handsome streets may be seen radiating from it in all -directions, giving a general impression of cleanly whiteness, while the -square itself, spreading a wide open space before the huge and rather -barnlike royal palace, is filled with humanity passing to and fro, or -seated at small tables in the open air, partaking of the coffee so dear -to the heart of the Greek; and carriages dash here and there, warning -pedestrians only by the driver’s repeated growl of “empros, empros!” -(εμπρός), which is exactly equivalent to the golf-player’s “fore!” And -here in the crowded square we may leave the traveler for the present, -doubtless not far from his hotel,—for hotels are all about,—with only -the parting word of advice that he shall early seek repose, in the -certitude that there will be some little noise. For the Athenians are -almost as noisy and nocturnal creatures as the Palermitans or -Neapolitans, and the nights will be filled with music and many other -sounds of revelry. To be sure, there are no paved streets and no -clanging trolley cars; but the passing throngs will make up for any lack -in that regard, even until a late hour of the night. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER IV. ATHENS; THE - MODERN CITY - -[Illustration] - - -Athens lies in a long and narrow plain between two rocky mountain ridges -that run down from the north. The plain to-day is neither interesting -nor particularly fertile, although it is still tilled with some success. -Once when it was better watered by the Cephissus and Ilissus rivers, -whose courses are still visible though in the main dry and rocky, it was -doubtless better able to support the local population; but to-day it is -rather a bare and unattractive intervale between mountains quite as -bare—gray, rocky heights, covered with little vegetation save the sparse -gorse and thyme. At that point in the plain where a lofty, isolated, and -nearly oblong rock, with precipitous sides, invited the foundation of a -citadel, Athens sprang into being. And there she stands to-day, having -pivoted around the hoary Acropolis crag for centuries, first south, then -west, then north, until the latter has become the final abiding place of -the modern town, while the older sites to the southward and westward lie -almost deserted save for the activities of the archæologists and -students, who have found them rich and interesting ground for -exploration. Always, however, the Acropolis was the fulcrum or focus, -and it was on this unique rock that Poseidon and Athena waged their -immortal contest for the possession of the Attic plain. Tradition says -that Poseidon smote with his trident and a salt spring gushed forth from -the cleft rock, thus proving his power; but that the judgment of the -gods was in favor of Athena, who made to spring up from the ground an -olive tree. Wherefore the land was allotted to her, and from her the -city took its name. Under the northern side of the towering rock and -around to the east of it runs the thriving city of to-day, thence -spreading off for perhaps two miles to the northward along the plain, -first closely congested, then widening into more open modernized -streets, and finally dwindling into scattered suburbs out in the -countryside. - -The growth of Athens has left its marks of progress in well-defined -strata. The narrow, squalid, slummy streets of the quarter nearest the -Acropolis belong to the older or Turkish period of the city’s renascent -life. Beyond these one meets newer and broader highways, lined in many -cases with neat modern shops, called into life by the city’s remarkable -growth of the past two decades, which have raised Athens from the rank -of a dirty village to a clean and attractive metropolis—in the better -sense of that much abused word. Still farther away are seen the natural -products of the overflow of a thriving modern town—suburbs clustering -around isolated mills or wine-presses. The present population is not far -from a hundred thousand persons, so that Athens to-day is not an -inconsiderable place. The population is chiefly the native Greek, -modified no doubt by long submission to Turkish rule and mingled with a -good deal of Turkish blood, but still preserving the language, names, -and traditions that bespeak a glorious past. Despite the persistence of -such names as Aristeides, Miltiades, Themistocles, Socrates, and the -like among the modern Athenians, it would no doubt be rashly -unreasonable to expect to find in a population that was to all intents -and purposes so long enslaved by Turkey very much that savors of the -traditional Greek character as it stood in the days of Pericles. But -there have not been wanting eminent scholars, who have insisted that our -exalted ideas of the ancient Greeks are really derived from a -comparatively few exceptional and shining examples, and that the ancient -population may have resembled the present citizens more than we are -prone to think, in traits and general ability. - -On his native heath the modern Greek openly charges his own race with a -lack of industry and love of idling too much in the coffee-houses, -although it is an indictment which has never struck me as just, and one -which, if coming from a foreigner, would doubtless be resented. It is -true that the coffeehouses are seldom deserted, and the possession of an -extra drachma or two is generally enough to tempt one to abandon his -employ for the seclusion that the _kaffeneion_ grants, there to sip -slowly until the cups of syrupy coffee which the money will buy are -gone. Nevertheless, one should be slow to say that the race is indolent -by nature, especially in view of its climatic surroundings; for there -are too many thousand thrifty and hard-working Hellenes in Greece and in -America as well to refute any such accusation. The one vast trouble, no -doubt, is the lack of any spur to industrial ambition at home, or of any -very attractive or remunerative employment compared with the -opportunities offered by the cities of the newer world. The strong set -of the tide of emigration to American shores has tended largely to -depopulate Greece; but it is not unlikely that the return of the -natives, which is by no means uncommon, will in time work large benefit -to Hellas herself, and the attraction of her sons to foreign lands thus -prove a blessing rather than, as was once supposed, a curse. - -This, however, is rather aside from any consideration of the modern city -of Athens. Let it be said at the outset that one may go freely anywhere -in the city and be quite unmolested either by malicious or mendicant -persons. It is not improbable, of course, that the increasing inundation -of Athens by foreign visitors will tend somewhat to increase the -tendency to begging, as it has elsewhere; but it is due the Greek race -to say that it is infinitely less lazy and infinitely less inclined to -proletarianism, or to seeking to live without work, than the Italian. -Small children, as in all countries, will be found occasionally begging -a penny, especially if they have gone out of their way to render a -fancied service, by ostentatiously opening a gate that already stood -ajar. But there are few of the lame, halt, and blind, such as infest -Naples and many smaller Mediterranean cities, seeking to extort money -from sheer pity of unsightliness. Here and there in Athens one may -indeed see a cripple patiently awaiting alms, but generally in a quiet -and unobtrusive way. Neither is the visitor bothered by the -importunities of carriage drivers, although the carriages are numerous -enough and anxious for fares—a contrast that is welcome indeed to one -newly come from Italy and fresh from the tireless pursuit of warring -Neapolitan cabbies. The offset to this welcome peace is the fact that -carriage fares in Athens are undoubtedly high compared with the -astonishingly low charges produced in Naples by active and incessant -competition of the vetturini. The sole dangers of Athenian streets are -those incident to the fast driving of carriages over the unpaved -roadways; for the pedestrian has his own way to make and his own safety -to guard, as is largely true in Paris, and it is incumbent on him to -stop, look, and listen before venturing into the highway. - -The street venders of laces, sponges, flowers, and postal cards are -perhaps the nearest to an importunate class, though they generally await -invitation to the attack, and their efforts are invariably good-humored. -The region of the “Syntagma” square is generally full of them, lining -the curb and laden with their wares. Men will be seen with long strips -of fascinating island lace over their shoulders, baskets on baskets of -flowers, heaps of curiously shaped, marvelously attractive sponges, -fresh and white from the near-by ocean, or packets of well-executed -postal cards picturing the city’s classic remains, all offered for sale -to whomsoever will exhibit the faintest trace of interest. Needless to -say, the initial prices asked are inevitably excessive and yield to -treatment with surprising revelations of latitude. - -Athens is a clean city. Its streets, while unpaved, are still fairly -hard. Its buildings are in the main of stone, covered with a stucco -finish and given a white color, or a tint of buff or light blue. The -prevailing tone is white, and in the glare of the brilliant sun it is -often rather trying to the eyes. To relieve the whiteness there is -always the feathery green of the pepper trees, and the contrast of the -clambering vines and flowers that in their season go far to make the -city so attractive. Most notable of all the contrasts in color is -unquestionably the rich purple of the bougainvillea blooms splashed in -great masses against the immaculate walls and porticoes of the more -pretentious houses. The gardens are numerous and run riot with roses, -iris, and hundreds of other fragrant and lovely blossoms. The sidewalks -are broad and smooth. It is an easy town in which to stroll about, for -the distances are not great and the street scenes are interesting and -frequently unusual to a high degree, while vistas are constantly opening -to give momentary views of the towering Acropolis. It is not a hilly -city, but rather built on rolling ground, the prevailing slope of which -is toward the west, gently down from the pointed Lycabettus to the -ancient course of the Cephissus, along which once spread the famous -grove of Academe. The lack of a sufficient water supply is unfortunate, -for one misses the gushing of fountains which makes Rome so delightful, -and the restricted volume available for domestic uses is sometimes far -from pleasant. - -The Athenians had a prodigious mine to draw upon for the naming of their -streets, in the magnificent stretch of their history and in the fabulous -wealth of mythology. And it is a fact worth remarking that the -mythological gods and heroes appear to have decidedly the better of the -famous mortals in the selection of street names to do them honor. For -example, Pericles, the greatest Athenian in many ways, is recalled by -the name of a decidedly poor thoroughfare—hardly more than an alley; -while Pheidias, Pindar, Homer, Solon, and a score of others fare but -little better. On the contrary, the great gods of high Olympus, Hermes, -Athena, Æolus, and others, give their names to the finest, broadest, -most magnificent streets of this city that likes to call herself a -little Paris. The result of it all is a curious mental state, for by the -time one gets out of Athens and into the highlands of Delphi or of the -Peloponnesus, where every peak and vale is the scene of some godlike -encounter or amour, one is more than half ready to accept those ancient -deities as actually having lived and done the things that legend -ascribes to them. They become fully as real to the mind as William Tell -or Pocahontas. The same illusion is helped on by the classic names -affected for the engines of the Piræus-Athens-Peloponnesus Railroad, and -by the time one has ridden for a day behind the “Hermes” or the -“Hephaistos,” one is quite ready to expect to see Proteus rising from -the sea, or hear old Triton blow his wreathed horn. - -It is at first a trifle perplexing to one not versed in the Greek -language to find the streets all labeled in the genitive case, such as -ὁδὸς Ἑρμοῦ (othòs Ermoù), “street of Hermes.” This soon becomes a matter -of course, however. The main shopping district is confined to the -greater highways of Hermes, Æolus, and Athena, and to Stadium Street—the -latter so called because its length is about one kilometre, which is the -modern “stadion,” instead of the lesser classic length of approximately -six hundred feet. The name therefore has no reference to the magnificent -athletic field of the city, in which the so-called modern “Olympic” -games are occasionally held, and which in itself is a fine sight to see, -as it lies in its natural amphitheatre east of the city, and brilliant -in its newly built surfaces of purest marble. Stadium Street is perhaps -the most modern and up-to-date street in Athens, lined with handsome -stores, hotels, and cafés, thronged day and night, and perhaps even more -gay and Parisian-looking by night, with its many lights and teeming -life. - -Athens at this writing has no system of trolley cars, but sticks -obstinately to an old-fashioned and quite inadequate horse-railway, the -several lines radiating from the Omonoia Square—pronounced much like -"Ammonia"—which, being interpreted, means the same as Place de la -Concorde. To master the intricacies of this tramway system requires a -considerable acquaintance with Athens, but it is vastly less involved a -problem than the omnibuses of London and Paris, and naturally so because -of the smaller size of the town. Odd little carriages plying between -stated points eke out the local transportation service, while the -third-rail, semi-underground line to the Piræus and the antiquated steam -tram to New Phalerum give a suburban service that is not to be despised. -In a very few years no doubt the trolley will invade Athens, for it -already has a foothold in Greece at the thriving port of Patras; and -when it does, one may whirl incongruously about the classic regions of -the Acropolis as one now whirls about the Forum at Rome. - -The admirable Bædeker warns visitors to Hellas against assuming too -hastily that Greece is a tropical land, merely because it is a southern -Mediterranean country, and our own experiences have proved that even in -April Athens can be as cold as in mid-winter, with snow capping Hymettus -itself. But for the greater part of the year Athens is warm, and as in -most southern cities business is practically at a standstill between the -noon hour and two o'clock in the afternoon. In the summer months, which -in Athens means the interval between May and late fall, this cessation -is a practical necessity, owing to the heat and the glare of the -noontide sun on the white streets and buildings. But the comparative -compactness of the city makes it entirely possible to walk almost -anywhere, even on a warm day, for the coolness of shade as compared with -the heat of the sun is always noticeable. Thus the visitor who has -plenty of time for his stay in the city is practically independent of -cars and carriages. For those who find time pressing and who must cover -the sites, or, as Bædeker sometimes says, “overtake” the points of -interest in short order, the ingenious device once employed by a friend -similarly situated may not come amiss. Having limited facilities of -speech in the native tongue, and being practically without other means -of communication with the cabman, this resourceful traveler supplied -himself with a full set of picture post-cards dealing with the more -celebrated features of Athens, and by dint of showing these one after -another to his Jehu, he managed to “do” Athens in half a day—if one -could call it that. He was not the only one to see the ancient capital -in such short order, but it remains true that any such cavalier -disposition of so famous a place is unfortunate and wholly inadequate. -Athens is no place for the hasty “tripper,” for not only are the ancient -monuments worthy of long and thoughtful contemplation, but the modern -city itself is abundantly worthy of intimate acquaintance. - -[Illustration: OLD CHURCH IN TURKISH QUARTER, ATHENS] - -It has been spoken of as a noisy city, and it is especially so after -nightfall, when the streets are thronged with people until a late hour -and the coffee-houses and open-air restaurants are in full swing. Long -after the ordinary person has gone to bed, passing Athenians will be -heard shouting or singing in merry bands of from three to a dozen, -especially if it be election time. The Athenian takes his politics as he -takes his coffee—in deliberate sips, making a little go a long way. The -general election period usually extends over something like two weeks, -during which time the blank walls of the city blossom with the portraits -of candidates and the night is made vocal with the rallying cries of the -free-born. “Rallying” carriages are employed much as our own practical -politicians employ them, to convey the decrepit or the reluctant -able-bodied voters to the polls, with the difference that the Athenian -rallying conveyance is generally decorated with partisan banners and not -infrequently bears on its box, beside the driver, a musical outfit -consisting of a drum and penny whistle, with which imposing panoply the -proud voter progresses grandly through the streets to the ballot box, -attended by a shouting throng. Torchlight processions, which make up in -noise for their lack of numbers, are common every night during the -election. The Athenian, when he does make up his mind to shout for any -aspirant, shouts with his whole being, and with a vigor that recalls the -days of Stentor. Noisy enough at all times, Athens is more so than ever -in days of political excitement or on high festivals—notably on the -night before Easter, when the joy over the resurrection of the Lord is -manifested in a whole-hearted outpouring of the spirit, finding vent in -explosives, rockets, and other pyrotechnics. Religious anniversaries, -such as the birthday of a saint, or the Nativity, or the final triumph -of Jesus, are treated by the Greek with the same pomp and circumstance -that we accord to the Fourth of July; and, indeed, the same is true of -all Mediterranean countries. I have never experienced a night before -Easter in Athens, but I have been told that this, one of the most sacred -of the festivals of the Orthodox Church, is the one occasion when it is -at all dangerous or disagreeable to be abroad in the streets of the -capital, and it is so only because of the exuberant and genuine joy that -the native feels in the thought of his salvation, the idea of which -seems annually to be a perfectly new and hitherto unexpected one. - -By day the chief tumult is from the ordinary press of traffic, with the -unintelligible street-cries of itinerant peddlers offering fish, eggs, -and divers vegetables, not to mention fire-wood. Nor should one omit the -newsboys, for the Athenian has abandoned not a whit of his traditional -eagerness to see or to hear some new thing, and has settled upon the -daily paper as the best vehicle for purveying to that taste. Athens -boasts perhaps half a dozen journals, fairly good though somewhat given -to exaggeration, and it is a poor citizen indeed who does not read two -or three of them as he drinks his coffee. Early morn and late evening -are filled with the cries of the paper boys ringing clear and distinct -over the general hubbub, and of all the street sounds their calls are by -far the easiest to understand. - -Most fascinating of all to the foreign visitor must always be the -narrower and less ornate streets of the old quarter, leading off Hermes -and Æolus streets, and paramount in attractiveness the little narrow -lane of the red shoes, which is a perfect bazaar. It is a mere alley, -lined from end to end with small open booths, or shops, and devoted -almost exclusively to the sale of shoes, mostly of red leather and -provided with red pompons, though soft, white leather boots are also to -be had, and to the dealing in embroidered bags, coats, pouches, belts, -and the like. The stock in trade of each is very similar to that of -every neighbor, and the effect of the _tout ensemble_ is highly curious -and striking. To venture there once is to insure frequent visits, and -one is absolutely certain sooner or later to buy. The wares seem rather -Turkish than Greek in character. Of course, patience and tact are -needful to enable one to avoid outrageous extortion. Nothing would -surprise a shoe-lane dealer more, in all probability, than to find a -foreigner willing and ready to accept his initial price as final. -Chaffering is the order of the day, and after a sufficient amount of -advancing and retreating, the intending purchaser is sure to succumb and -return laden with souvenirs, from the inexpensive little embroidered -bags to the coats heavy with gold lace, which are the festal gear of the -peasant girls. The latter garments are mostly second-hand, and generally -show the blemishes due to actual use. They are sleeveless over-garments -made of heavy felt but gay with red and green cloth, on which, as a -border, gold braid and tracery have been lavished without stint until -they are splendid to see. Needless to say, they are the most expensive -things in shoe lane. The process of bargaining between one who speaks no -English and one who speaks no Greek is naturally largely a matter of -dumb show, although the ever-ready pad and pencil figure in it. Madame -looks inquiringly up from a handsome Greek coat, and is told by the pad -that the price is 50 drachmas. Her face falls; she says as plainly as -words could say it that she is very sorry, but it is out of the -question. She turns and approaches the door. “Madame! madame!” She turns -back, and the pad, bearing the legend 45, is shoved toward her. Again -the retreat, and once more the summons to return and see a new and still -lower price. Eventually the blank paper is passed to “madame,” and she -writes thereon a price of her own—inevitably too low. Finally, however, -the product of the extremes produces the Aristotelian golden mean, and -the title passes. Indeed, it sometimes happens that the merchant will -inform you of an outrageous price and add with shameless haste, “What -will you give?” Experience will soon teach the purchaser that the -easiest way to secure reasonable prices is to make a lump sum for -several articles at a single sale. - -Shoe lane, for all its narrowness and business, is far from squalid, and -is remarkably clean and sweet. In this it differs from the market -district farther along, where vegetables, lambs, pigs, chickens, and -other viands are offered for sale. The sight is interesting, but its -olfactory appeal is stronger than the ocular. One need not venture -there, however, to see the wayside cook at his work of roasting a whole -sheep on the curb. Even the business streets up-town often show this -spectacle. The stove is a mere sheet-iron chest without a cover, and -containing a slow fire of charcoal. Over this on an iron spit, which is -thrust through the lamb from end to end, the roast is slowly turning, -legs, ribs, head, eyes, and all, the motive power being a little boy. -From this primitive establishment cooked meat may be bought, as in the -days of Socrates, either to be taken home, or to be eaten in some corner -by the Athenian quick-lunch devotee. Farther along in the old quarter, -not far from the Monastiri Station of the Piræus Line, is the street of -the coppersmiths, heralded from afar by the noise of its hammers. By all -the rules of appropriateness this should be the street of Hephaistos. In -the gathering dusk, especially, this is an interesting place to wander -through, for the forge fires in the dark little shops gleam brightly in -the increasing darkness, while the busy hammers ply far into the -evening. It is the tinkers’ chorus and the armorer’s song rolled into -one. Here one buys the coffee-mills and the coffee-pots used in -concocting the Turkish coffee peculiar to the East, and any visitor who -learns to like coffee thus made will do well to secure both utensils, -since the process is simple and the drink can easily be made at home. -The coffee-pots themselves are little brass or copper dippers, of -varying sizes; and the mills are cylinders of brass with arrangements -for pulverizing the coffee beans to a fine powder. This powder, in the -proportion of about a teaspoonful to a cup, is put into the dipper with -an equal quantity of sugar. Boiling water is added, and the mixture set -on the fire until it “boils up.” This is repeated three times before -pouring off into cups, the coffee being vigorously stirred or beaten to -a froth between the several boilings. At the end it is a thick and -syrup-like liquid, astonishingly devoid of the insomnia-producing -qualities commonly attributed to coffee by the makers of American -“substitutes.” In any event the long-handled copper pots and the mills -for grinding are quaint and interesting to possess. At the coffee-houses -the practice is generally to bring the coffee on in its little -individual pot, to be poured out by the patron himself. It is always -accompanied by a huge glass of rather dubious drinking water and often -by a bit of loukoumi, which the Greek esteems as furnishing a thirst, or -by a handful of salty pistachio nuts, equally efficacious for the same -purpose. The consumption of coffee by the Greek nation is stupendous. -Possibly it is harmful, too. But in any event it cheers without -inebriating, and a drunken Greek is a rare sight indeed. - -Walking homeward in the dusk of evening after a sunset on the Acropolis, -one is sure to pass many out-of-door stoves set close to the entrances -of humbler houses and stuffed with light wood which is blazing cheerily -in preparation of the evening meal, the glow and the aromatic wood-smoke -adding to the charm of the scene. Small shops, in the windows of which -stand fresh-made bowls of giaourti (ya-oór-ti), are also to be seen, -calling attention to that favorite Athenian delicacy, very popular as a -dessert and not unlikely to please the palate of those not to the manner -born. The giaourti is a sort of “junket,” or thick curd of goat’s milk, -possessing a sour or acid taste. It is best eaten with an equal quantity -of sugar, which renders the taste far from disagreeable. As for the -other common foods of the natives, doubtless the lamb comes nearest to -being the chief national dish, while chickens and eggs are every-day -features of many a table. Unless one is far from the congested haunts of -men, the food problem is not a serious one. That a visitor would find it -rather hard to live long on the ordinary native cookery, however, is no -doubt true; but fortunately there is little need to make the experiment. -One other native dish deserves mention, in passing, and that is the -“pilaffi,” or “pilaff,” which is rice covered with a rich meat gravy, -and which almost any foreigner will appreciate as a palatable article of -food. - -Of the ruins and museums of Athens, it is necessary to speak in detail -in another chapter. Of the modern city and its many oddities, it is -enough to deal here. Rambles through the town in any direction are sure -to prove delightful, not only in the older quarter which we have been -considering, but through the more pretentious modern streets as well, -with their excellent shops, their pseudo-classic architecture, and their -constant glimpses of gardens or of distant ruined temples. Occasionally -the classic style of building rises to something really fine, as in the -case of the university buildings, the polytechnic school, or the -national museum itself. The local churches are by no means beautiful, -however. Indeed the ordinary Greek church makes no pretension to outward -attractiveness, such as the cathedrals and minor churches of the Roman -faith possess. Perhaps the most striking of the Athenian houses of -worship is the little brown structure which has been allowed to remain -in the midst of Hermes Street, recalling the situation of St. Clement -Danes, or St. Mary le Strand in London. It is a squat Byzantine edifice, -not beautiful, but evidently old, and a familiar sight of the city. -Within, the Greek churches are quite different in arrangement from the -Roman. At the entrance to the altar space there is always a high screen, -pierced by a door leading to the altar itself, and used only by the -officiating priest. The altar screen, or “iconastasis,” is richly -adorned as a rule with embossed work, and the “icons,” or holy pictures, -are generally painted faces set in raised silver-gilt frames, which -supply the figure and robes of the saints, only the facial features -being in pigment. Images are not allowed in the Orthodox worship, but -the relief employed to embellish the faces in the icons goes far to -simulate imagery. - -The residential architecture of the city finds its best exemplification -in the splendid marble mansions of the princes of the royal house, which -are really fine, and which are surrounded by attractive grounds and -gardens. The palace of the king is far less attractive, being a huge and -barn-like structure in the centre of the city, relieved from utter -barrenness only by a very good classic portico. But nothing could be -lovelier than the deep dells of the palace gardens, which form a -magnificent park well deserving the classic name of a παράδεισος, with -its jungle of flowers, shrubs, and magnificent trees—the latter a -welcome sight in treeless Attica. - -One cannot pass from the subject of modern Athens without mentioning the -soldiery, for the soldiers are everywhere, in all degrees of rank and -magnificence of dress, from the humble private to the glittering and -altogether gorgeous generalissimo. The uniforms are of a variety that -would put to blush the variegated equipment of the famous Ancient and -Honorable Artillery Company of Boston. These manifold uniforms have -their proper signification, however, and they are undeniably handsome. -If the Greek soldiers could only fight as well as they look, what could -restrain the modern Athenian empire? The army clothes are admirably -designed with an eye to fit and color, and the men carry themselves with -admirable military hauteur. Most picturesque of all are the king’s -body-guard, with their magnificent physique and national dress. They are -big, erect fellows, clad in the short fustanella skirts of the ancient -régime, the tight-fitting leggings, the pomponed shoes, the dark -over-jacket, and the fez. These are the only troops that wear the -old-time garb of the Greek. But the dress is a familiar sight in the -outside country districts, often worn by well-to-do peasants, and still -regarded as the national dress despite the general prevalence of -ordinary European clothes. - -It remains to speak briefly of the national money, for that is a subject -the visitor cannot avoid. The drachma, which corresponds to the franc, -is a peculiar thing. If one means the metal drachma, of silver, it is -simple enough. It circulates at par with the franc. But the paper -drachma varies in value from day to day at the behest of private -speculation, and is almost never at par. I have experienced variations -of it from a value of fourteen cents to eighteen. In small transactions, -when the paper drachma is high, the difference is negligible. When it is -low in value, or in large amounts, it is highly appreciable. The -fluctuation of this money is the reason for the pads and pencils in the -shops, for it is only by constant multiplication or division that the -merchant is able to translate prices from francs into drachmas or _vice -versa_, as occasion requires. Naturally when the drachma is worth only -fourteen cents, the unsuspecting visitor is liable to pay more than he -should, if assuming that a franc and a drachma are synonymous terms. In -such a case a paper bill requires a considerable addition of copper -lepta to make it equal the metal drachma or the French franc. The -difference in value from day to day may be learned from the newspapers. -Most bargains are made in francs, and the French money, both gold and -silver, is freely used. Nevertheless, the local paper money is very -useful, and it merely requires a little care in the use. Particularly is -it desirable to know the status of the drachma in securing cash on a -letter of credit or on a traveler’s cheque, in order that one may obtain -the proper amount and not content himself with an inferior sum in paper; -for although the principal banks may be relied upon as a rule to be -honest, individual clerks may not be proof against the temptation to -impose upon the ignorant and pocket the difference. I would advise the -use of the Ionian Bank as far as possible, rather than the tourist -agencies, for the latter often extort money quite without warrant, on -the plea of needful stamps or fees for “accommodation,” that the bank -does not require. Little trouble will be found to exist in the way of -false coin—far less than in Italy. The one difficulty is to follow the -paper drachma up and down, and not be mulcted to a greater or less -extent in the exchange of silver for paper. The copper coins, which are -either the five or ten lepta pieces, occasion no trouble, being like the -Italian centesimi or English pence and ha' pennies. - -One not uncommon sight to be met with in Athenian streets is the funeral -procession—a sight which is liable at first to give the unaccustomed -witness a serious shock, because of the custom of carrying the dead -uncoffined through the city. The coffin and its cover are borne at the -head of the procession, as a rule, while the body of the deceased, in an -open hearse, rides joltingly along in the middle of the cortège. To -those not used to this method of honoring the dead, the exposure of the -face to the sight of every passer-by must seem incongruous and -revolting. But it is the custom of the place, and the passing of a -funeral causes no apparent concern to those who calmly view the passing -corpse from the chairs where they sip their coffee, or idly finger their -strings of beads. The beads which are to be seen in the hand of nearly -every native have no religious significance, as might be thought at -first sight, but are simply one of the innocuous things that the Hellene -finds for idle hands to do. They are large beads, of various colors, -though the strings are generally uniform in themselves, and their sole -function is to furnish something to toy with while talking, or while -doing nothing in particular. There is a sufficiency of loose string to -give some play to the beads, and they become a familiar sight. - -Royalty in Greece is decidedly democratic in its attitude. King George -and his sons are frequently to be seen riding about town, much like -ordinary citizens. Quite characteristic was an encounter of recent date, -in which an American gentleman accosted one whom he found walking in the -palace gardens with the inquiry as to what hour would be the best for -seeing the royal children. The question elicited mutual interest and the -two conversed for some time, the American asking with much curiosity for -particulars of the household, with which his interlocutor professed to -be acquainted. “What of the queen?” he inquired. "She’s exceedingly well -beloved," was the reply. “She is a woman of high character and fills her -high station admirably.” “And the king?” "Oh, the king! I regret to say -that he is no good. He has done nothing for the country. He tries to -give no offense—but as a king the less said of him the better!" Needless -to say, this oracle was the king himself. Nobody else would have passed -so harsh a judgment. King George I has been reigning since 1863, when -the present government, with the sponsorship of the Christian powers, -was inaugurated. He came from Denmark, being a son of the late King -Christian, who furnished so many thrones of Europe with acceptable -rulers and queens from his numerous and excellent family, so that the -king is not himself a Greek at all. The years of successful rule have -proved him highly acceptable to the Athenians and their countrymen, who -have seen their land regain a large measure of its prosperity and their -chief city grow to considerable proportions under the new order. The -kingly office is hereditary, the crown prince reaching his majority at -eighteen years. - -Prince Constantine, the heir to the throne, lives on the street behind -the palace gardens, and has a family of handsome children. Prince George -is commissioner in charge of Crete. The royal family has embraced the -faith of the Greek Orthodox Church. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER V. ANCIENT ATHENS: - THE ACROPOLIS - -[Illustration] - - -The visible remains of the ancient city of Athens, as distinguished from -the city of to-day, lie mainly to the south and west of the Acropolis, -where are to be seen many distinct traces of the classic town, close -around the base of the great rock and the Hill of Mars. How far the -ancient city had extended around to the eastward can only be conjectured -by the layman, for there exist almost no remains in that direction save -the choragic monument of Lysicrates and the ruins of the temple of -Olympian Zeus; while on the northern side of the Acropolis, although it -is known that there once lay the agora, or market place, little is left -but some porticoes of a late, if not of Roman, date. Not being bent on -exact archæology, however, it is not for us here to speculate much over -the probable sites of the ancient metes and bounds, the location of the -fountain of nine spouts called “Enneacrunus,” nor the famous spring of -Callirrhoë, which furnish fertile ground for dissent among those skilled -in the art. What must now concern us most is the mass of visible ruins, -which provide the chief charm of the city to every visitor, and most of -all to those possessed of the desirable historic or classical -“background” to make the ruins the more interesting. - -Despite her many inglorious vicissitudes, Athens has been so fortunate -as to retain many of her ancient structures in such shape that even -to-day a very good idea is to be had of their magnificence in the golden -age of Hellenic empire. The Greek habit of building temples and fanes in -high places, apart from the dwellings of men, has contributed very -naturally to the preservation of much that might otherwise have been -lost. The chief attractions of the classic city were set on high, and -the degenerate modern town that succeeded the ancient capital did not -entirely swallow them up, as was so largely the case at Rome. To be -sure, the Turks did invade the sacred precincts of the Acropolis with -their mosques and their munitions of war, and the latter ruined the -Parthenon beyond hope of restoration when Morosini’s lamentable advisers -caused the Venetian bomb to be fired at that noble edifice. Local -vandalism and the greed of lime burners have doubtless destroyed much. -But the whole course of these depredations has failed to remove the -crowning treasures of Athens, and the Acropolis temples are still the -inspiration and the despair of architects. In passing, then, to a more -detailed and perhaps superfluous consideration of the monuments -surviving from the ancient city, it may be remarked that the visitor -will find more of the classic remains to reward and delight him than is -the case at Rome, rich as that eternal city is. - -The Acropolis is naturally the great focus of interest, not only for -what remains _in situ_ on its top, but because of many remnants of -buildings that cluster about its base. The rock itself, if it were -stripped of every building and devoid of every memory, would still be -commanding and imposing, alone by sheer force of its height and -steepness. As it is, with its beetling sides made the more precipitous -by the artifices of Cimon and ancient engineers, whose walls reveal the -use of marble column drums built into the fortifications themselves, it -is doubly impressive for mere inaccessibility. Something like a hundred -feet below its top it ceases to be so sheer, and spreads out into a more -gradual slope, on the southern expanses of which were built the city’s -theatres and a precinct sacred to Asklepios. Only on the west, however, -was the crag at all approachable, and on that side to-day is the only -practicable entrance to the sacred precincts. - -A more magnificent approach it would be hard to conceive. One must -exempt from praise the so-called “Beulé” gate at the very entrance, at -the foot of the grand staircase, for it is a mere late patchwork of -marble from other ancient monuments, and is in every way unworthy of -comparison with the majestic Propylæa at the top. It takes its name from -the French explorer who unearthed it. As for its claim to interest, it -must found that, if at all, on the identification of the stones which -now compose it with the more ancient monument of some choragic victor. -Looking up the steep incline to the Propylæa, or fore gate of the -Acropolis, the Parthenon is completely hid. Nothing is visible from this -point but the walls and columns of the magnificent gateway itself, -designed to be a worthy prelude to the architectural glory of the main -temple of the goddess. The architect certainly succeeded admirably in -achieving the desired result. He did not at all dwarf or belittle his -chief creation above, yet he gave it a most admirable setting. Even -to-day, with so much of the colonnade of the Propylæa in ruins, it is a -splendid and satisfying approach, not only when seen from a distance, -but at close range. Not alone is it beautiful in and of itself, but it -commands from its platform a grand view of the Attic plain below, of the -bay of Salamis gleaming in the sun beyond, of the long cape running down -to Sunium, and of the distant mountains of the Argolid, rolling like -billows in the southwest far across the gulf and beyond Ægina. To pause -for a moment on gaining this threshold of the Acropolis and gaze upon -this imposing panorama of plain, mountain, and sea, is an admirable -introduction to Greece. - -[Illustration: TEMPLE OF NIKÉ APTEROS] - -On either side of the stairway by which one climbs to the Propylæa are -buttresses of rock, on one of which stands an object worthy of long -contemplation. At the right, on a platform leveled from the solid rock, -stands the tiny temple of Niké Apteros (the Wingless Victory), -“restored” it is true, but nevertheless one of the most perfect little -buildings imaginable. At one time entirely removed to make room for a -Turkish watch-tower, it has been re-created by careful hands out of its -original marbles; and it stands to-day, as it stood of old, on its -narrow parapet beside the grand stairway of Athena. The process of -rebuilding has not, indeed, been able to give the unbroken lines of the -old temple. The stones are chipped at the corners here and there, and -there are places where entirely new blocks have been required. But in -the main everything, even to the delicately carved frieze around its -top, is in place; and for once at least the oft-berated “restorer” of -ancient buildings has triumphed and has silenced all his critics. The -remnants of the incomparable carved balustrade, which once served as a -railing for the parapet, are to be seen in the small museum of the -Acropolis, revealing the extreme grace which the Greek sculptors had -achieved in the modeling of exquisite figures in high relief. The slab, -particularly, which has come to be known as “Niké binding her sandal” -seems to be the favorite of all, though the others, even in their -headless and armless state, are scarcely less lovely. - -As for the isolated pedestal on the other side of the stairway, known as -the “pedestal of Agrippa,” it is not only devoid of any statue to give -it continued excuse for being, but it is in such a state of decrepitude -as to cause the uncomfortable thought that it is about to fall, and -seems an object rather for removal than for perpetuation, although it -serves to balance the effect produced by the Niké bastion. - -Standing on the Niké platform, the visitor finds the noble columns of -the Propylæa towering above him close at hand. These Doric pillars give -one for the first time an adequate idea of the perfection to which the -column was carried by Ictinus and the builders and architects of his -time; for although each pillar is built up drum upon drum, it is still -true in many cases that the joints between them are almost invisible, so -perfect are they, despite the lapse of ages and the ravages of war, not -to mention the frequent earthquake shocks to which the whole region has -been subjected. Age has been kind also to the Pentelic marble, softening -its original whiteness to a golden brown without destroying its -exquisite satin texture. Nothing more charming can well be imagined than -the contrast of the blue Athenian sky with these stately old columns, as -one looks outward or inward through their majestic rows. - -The rock rises sharply as one passes within the precinct of the -Acropolis, and the surface of it appears to have been grooved to give a -more secure footing to pedestrians. Stony as is the place, it still -affords soil enough to support a growth of grasses and struggling bits -of greenery to cradle the many fallen drums. But one has eyes only for -the Parthenon, the western front of which now appears for the first time -in its full effect. From its western end, the havoc wrought in its midst -being concealed, the Parthenon appears almost perfect. The pedimental -sculptures, it is true, are gone save for a fragment or two, having been -carried off to England. But the massive Doric columns still stand in an -unbroken double row before one; the walls of the cella appear to be -intact; the pediment rises almost unbroken above; frieze, triglyphs, and -metopes remain in sufficient degree to give an idea of the ancient -magnificence of the shrine—and all conspire to compel instant and -unstinted admiration. Speculation as to the ethics of the removal of the -Parthenon sculptures by Lord Elgin has become an academic matter, and -therefore one quite beyond our present purpose. Doubtless to-day no such -removal would be countenanced for a moment. It is no longer possible to -say, as former critics have said, that the local regard for the -treasures of the place is so slight as to endanger their safety. The -present custodianship of the priceless relics of antiquity in Athens is -admirably careful and satisfactory. If, therefore, Greece had only come -into her own a century or so earlier than she did, the famous sculptures -of the miraculous birth of Athena, springing full grown from the head of -Zeus, and the colossal representation of the strife between Athena and -Poseidon for possession of the Attic land, might still adorn as of yore -the eastern and western gables of the great temple; or if not that, -might still be seen in the very excellent museum at the other end of the -city. It is enough for us to know, however, that they are not in Athens -but in London, and that there is no probability they will ever return to -Greek soil; and to know, also, that had they not been removed as they -were, they might never have been preserved at all. That is the one -comfortable state of mind in which to view the vacant pediments of the -Parthenon. To work up a Byronic frenzy over what cannot be helped, and -may, after all, be for the best, is of no benefit. - -Writers on Athens have often called attention to the curved stylobate of -the Parthenon—a feature which is by no means confined to this temple, -but which is to be noticed in almost every considerable ruin of the -sort. The base of the building curves sufficiently to make the device -visible, rising from either end to the centre of the sides; and the -curious may easily prove it by placing a hat at one extremity and trying -to see it from the other, sighting along the line of the basic stones. -The curve was necessary to cure an optical defect, for a straight or -level base would have produced the illusion of a decided sagging -Similarly it has long been recognized that the columns must swell at the -middle drums, lest they appear to the eye to be concaved. In fact, as -Professor Gardner has pointed out, there is actually hardly a really -straight line in the Parthenon—yet the effect is of absolute -straightness everywhere. - -Obviously this curvature of the base, slight though it was, imposed some -engineering problems of no inconsiderable nature when it came to setting -the column drums; for the columns must stand erect, and the bottom -sections must be so devised as to meet the configuration of the convex -stylobate. The corner columns, being set on a base that curved in both -directions, must have been more difficult still to deal with. But the -problem was solved successfully, and the result of this cunningly -contrived structure was a temple that comes as near architectural -perfection as earthly artisans are ever likely to attain. The columns -were set up in an unfluted state, the fluting being added after the -pillar was complete. Each drum is said to have been rotated upon its -lower fellow until the joint became so exact as to be to all intents and -purposes indistinguishable. In the centre of the fallen drums will be -seen always a square hole, used to contain a peg of wood designed to -hold the finished sections immovable, and in many cases this wooden plug -has been found intact. All along the sides of the Parthenon, lying on -the ground as they fell, are to be seen the fallen drums that once -composed the columns of the sides, but which were blown out of position -by the bomb from the Venetian fleet of Admiral Morosini. They lie like -fallen heaps of dominoes or children’s building blocks, and the entire -centre of the temple is a gaping void. Here and there an attempt has -been made to reconstruct the fallen columns from the original portions, -but the result is by no means reassuring and seems not to justify the -further prosecution of the task. Better a ruined Parthenon than an -obvious patchwork. The few restored columns are quite devoid of that -homogeneity that marks the extant originals, and their joints are -painfully felt, being chipped and uneven, where the old are all but -imperceptible; so that the whole effect is of insecurity and lack of -perfection entirely out of harmony with the Parthenon itself. Opinions, -however, differ. Some still do advocate the rebuilding of the temple -rather than leave the drums, seemingly so perfect still, lying as they -now are amid the grasses of the Acropolis. It is one of those questions -of taste on which debate is traditionally idle and purposeless. - -[Illustration: THE PARTHENON, WEST PEDIMENT] - -For those who must demand restorations other than those constructed by -the mind’s eye, there are models and drawings enough extant, and some -are to be seen in the Acropolis Museum. Most interesting of the attempts -are doubtless the speculations as to the pedimental sculptures, the -remains of which are in the British Museum, but which are so fragmentary -and so ill placed in their new home that much of the original grouping -is matter for conjecture. With the aid of drawings made by a visitor -long years ago, before Lord Elgin had thought of tearing them down, the -two great pediments have been ingeniously reconstructed in miniature, -showing a multitude of figures attending on the birth of the city’s -tutelary goddess, as she sprang full armed from the head of Zeus -assisted by the blow of Hephaistos’s hammer, or the concourse of deities -that umpired the contest between Athena and Poseidon for the land. The -Acropolis Museum has only casts of the Elgin marbles, but there is still -to be seen a good proportion of the original frieze. It would be out of -place in any such work as this to be drawn into anything like a detailed -account of these famous sculptures, the subjects of a vast volume of -available literature already and sources of a considerable volume also -of controversial writing involving conflicts of the highest authority. -It must therefore suffice to refer the reader interested in the detailed -story of the Parthenon, its external adornment, its huge gold-and-ivory -statue within, and the great Panathenaic festival which its frieze -portrayed, to any one of those learned authors who have written of all -these things so copiously and clearly—doubtless none more so than Dr. -Ernest Gardner in his admirably lucid and readable “Ancient Athens,” or -in his “Handbook of Greek Sculpture,” without which no one should visit -the museum in that city. - -One must remember that the Parthenon and the other features of the -Acropolis are monuments of the age of Pericles, and not of an earlier -day. The Persians who invaded Greece in 480 B.C. succeeded in obtaining -possession of Athens and of the whole Attic plain, the inhabitants -fleeing to the island of Salamis. The hordes of barbarians brought in by -Xerxes were opposed by a very few of the citizens, some of whom erected -a stockade around the Acropolis, thinking that thereby they satisfied -the oracle which had promised the city salvation through the -impregnability of its “Wooden Walls.” The Persians massed their forces -on Mars Hill, just west of the larger rock, and a hot fight took place, -the invaders attempting to fire the stockade by means of arrows carrying -burning tow, while the besieged made use of round stones with -considerable effect. Eventually the enemy discovered an unsuspected -means of access to the citadel and took it by storm, after which they -burned its temples and left it a sorry ruin. The rest of the Athenians -with the allied navy at Salamis repulsed the Persian fleet, and Xerxes, -disgusted, withdrew,—despite the fact that it would seem to have been -quite possible for him to pursue his successes on land. It left Athens a -waste, but on that waste grew up a city that for architectural beauty -has never, in all probability, been surpassed. The reaction from the -horrors of war gave us the Parthenon, the Propylæa, and the Erechtheum, -all dating, perhaps, from the fifth century before Christ. - -The Erechtheum, while properly entitled to the epithet “elegant” as a -building, seems decidedly less a favorite than the Parthenon. It is -extremely beautiful, no doubt, in a delicate and elaborate way, and its -ornamentation is certainly of a high order. Unlike the Parthenon, it is -not surrounded by a colonnade, but possesses pillars only in its several -porticoes. The columns are not Doric, but Ionic. As for its general -plan, it is so complicated and devoted to so many obscure purposes that -the lay visitor doubtless will find it an extremely difficult place to -understand. There appear to have been at least three precincts involved -in it, and the name it bears is the ancient one, given it because in -part it was a temple of Erechtheus. That deity was of the demi-god type. -He was an ancient Attic hero, who had received apotheosis and become -highly esteemed, doubtless because in part he had instituted the worship -of Athena in the city and had devised the celebrated Panathenaic -festival. Tradition says that he was brought up by Athena herself, and -that she intrusted him as a babe, secreted in a chest, to the daughters -of Cecrops to guard. They were enjoined not to open the chest, but being -overcome with curiosity they disobeyed, and discovered the babe entwined -with serpents—whereat, terrified beyond measure, they rushed to the -steeper part of the Acropolis and threw themselves down from the rock. -Therein they were not alone, for it is also related that the father of -Theseus had also thrown himself down from this eminence in despair, -because he beheld his son’s ship returning from Crete with black sails, -imagining therefrom that the Minotaur had triumphed over his heroic son, -when the reverse was the fact. - -The complicated character of the Erechtheum is further emphasized by the -fact that a portion of it was supposed to shelter the gash made by -Poseidon with his trident when he was contending with Athena for the -land, as well as the olive tree that Athena caused to grow out of the -rock. The two relics were naturally held in veneration, and it was the -story that in the cleft made by the trident there was a salt spring, or -“sea” as Herodotus calls it, which gave forth to the ear a murmuring -like that of the ocean. The cleft is still there. The olive tree, -unfortunately, has disappeared. It was there when the Persian horde came -to Athens, however, if we may believe Herodotus; and tradition says that -after the invaders had burned the Acropolis over, the tree-stump -immediately put forth a shoot which was in length a cubit, as a sign -that the deity had not abandoned the city. It had been the custom of the -place to deposit a cake of honey at stated intervals in the temple door -for the food of the sacred serpents; and when, on the arrival of the -Persians, this cake remained untouched, the inhabitants were convinced -that even the god had left the Acropolis and that naught remained but -ruin. The renewed and miraculous life of the olive tree dispelled this -error. The Erechtheum in part overlaps the oldest precinct sacred to -Athena, where stood an earlier temple supposed to have contained the -sacred image of the goddess, made of wood, which came down from heaven. -For exact and detailed descriptions of the Erechtheum and its uses, the -reader must once again turn to the archæologists. As for its external -features, the most famous of all is unquestionably the caryatid portico, -in which the roof is borne up by a row of graceful, but undeniably -sturdy, marble maidens. The use of the caryatid, always unnatural, is -here rather successful on the whole, for the beholder derives no -sensation that the maidens are restive under the weight imposed on them. -They are entirely free from any indictment of grotesqueness. -Nevertheless, it is questionable whether the portico is altogether -pleasing. One of the figures is, as is well known, a reproduction of the -one Lord Elgin carried away to the British Museum, but the remainder of -the six are the original members. - -The Acropolis Museum serves to house a great many interesting fragments -found on the spot, including a host of archaic representations of -Athena, still bearing ample traces of the paint which the Greeks used so -lavishly on their marble statues. This use of pigment might seem to have -been a very doubtful exhibition of taste, as judged by modern standards, -not only in its application to statues, but in the decoration of marble -temples as well. It is hard for us to-day, accustomed to pure white -marble sculpture, to imagine any added beauty from painting the hair, -eyes, and garments of a statue; or to conceive how the polychromy so -commonly made use of in bedecking such masterpieces as the Parthenon -could have been anything but a blemish. Nevertheless, the fact that the -Greeks did it, and that they were in all else so consummately tasteful, -makes it entirely probable that their finished statues and edifices thus -adorned were perfectly congruous—especially under that brilliant sky and -surrounded by so many brilliant costumes. From the surviving multitude -of statues of Athena, it is evident that the Greeks conceived her as a -woman of majestic mien, rather almond-eyed, and possessed of abundant -braids of the ruddy hair later vouchsafed to Queen Elizabeth. The more -rudimentary figure of the “Typhon,” also preserved in this museum, which -was doubtless a pedimental sculpture from some earlier acropolitan -temple, bears abundant traces of paint on its body and on the beards of -its triple head. It is too grotesque to furnish much of an idea of the -use of paint on such statues as the great masters later produced. The -remnants of the Parthenon frieze give little or no trace of any of the -blue background, such as was commonly laid on to bring out the figures -carved on such ornaments, nor are there any traces remaining of -polychrome decoration on the Parthenon itself. - -The Acropolis, of course, has not escaped the common fate of all similar -celebrated places—that of being “done” now and then by parties of -tourists in absurdly hasty fashion, that to the lover of the spot seems -little less than sacrilege. It is no infrequent sight to see a body of -men and women numbering from a dozen to over a hundred, in the keeping -of a voluble courier, scampering up the steps of the Propylæa, over the -summit, through the two temples, in and out of the museum, and down -again, amply satisfied with having spent a half hour or even less among -those immortal ruins, and prepared to tell about it for the rest of -their days. It is a pity, as it always is, to see a wonder of the world -so cavalierly treated. Still, one hesitates to say that rather than do -this, one should never visit the Acropolis of Athens. It is better to -have looked for a moment than never to have looked at all. The Acropolis -is no place to hurry through. Rather is it a spot to visit again and -again, chiefly toward sunset, not merely to wander through the ruins, or -to rest on the steps of the Parthenon musing over the remote past to -which this place belongs, but also to see the sun sink to the west as -Plato and Socrates must often have seen it sink from this very place, -behind the rugged sky-line of the Argolid, which never changes, -lengthening the purple shadows of the hills on the peaceful plain and -touching the golden-brown of the temples with that afterglow which, once -seen, can never be forgotten. - -The gates of the Acropolis are closed at sunset by the guards, and -lingering visitors are insistently herded into groups and driven -downward to the gate like sheep by the little band of blue-coated -custodians. Still, they are not hard-hearted, and if a belated visitor -finds the outer gates locked a trifle before sunset, as often happens -with the idea of preventing needless ascent, a plea for “pende lepta” -(five minutes) is likely to be honored even without a petty bribe. But -at last every one must go, and the holy hill of Athena is left -untenanted for one more of its endless round of nights. A visit to the -Acropolis by moonlight is traditionally worth while, and the needful -permission is not difficult to obtain once the municipal office dealing -with such things is located. The Parthenon on a clear, moonlit night -must be indescribably lovely, even in its lamentable ruin. - -Other sights of Athens, ancient and modern, are interesting, and many -are magnificent. But the Acropolis is unquestionably the best that -Athens has to show, and the Parthenon is incomparably the best of the -Acropolis. It is the first and the last spot to seek in visiting -Athena’s famous city, and the last glimpse the departing voyager—very -likely with a not unmanly tear—catches from his ship as it sails out -into the blue Ægean is of this hoary temple reposing in calm and serene -indifference to mankind on its rocky height. It has seen the worship of -Athena Parthenos give way to the reverence of another Virgin—a holier -ideal of Wisdom set up in its own precincts, and worshiped there on the -very spot where once the youth of Athens did honor to the pagan goddess. -Gods and religions have risen and departed, despots have come and gone; -but the Parthenon has stood unchanging, the unrivaled embodiment of -architectural beauty to-day, as it was when Ictinus, Mnesicles, -Pheidias, and those who were with them created it out of their combined -and colossal genius, under the wise ordainment of Pericles. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER VI. ANCIENT ATHENS: - THE OTHER MONUMENTS - -[Illustration] - - -There are two favorite ways whereby those leaving the Acropolis are wont -to descend to the modern city. One lies around to the right as you leave -the gates, passing between the Acropolis and Mars Hill to the north side -of the former, where steps will be found leading down to the old quarter -and thence past Shoe Lane to Hermes Street and home. The other passes to -the south of the Acropolis along its southerly slopes, finally emerging -through an iron gate at the eastern end, whence a street leads directly -homeward, rather cleaner and sweeter than the other route but hardly as -picturesque. Since, however, this way leads to some of the other notable -remains of classic Athens, for the present let us take it. - -Immediately on leaving the avenue in front of the gates of the -Acropolis, one finds a path leading eastward directly behind and above -the Odeon of Herodes Atticus, which is made conspicuous in the landscape -by the lofty stone arches remaining at its front. These arches are -blackened and bear every ear-mark of the later Roman epoch. Moreover -they strike the beholder as rather unstable, as if some day they might -fall unless removed. But their loss would be a pity, nevertheless, for -they certainly present a striking and agreeable feature to the sight -despite their lack of harmony with the received ideas of pure Greek -architecture. It hardly repays one to descend to the pit of this -commodious theatre, or rather concert hall, since one gets a very -accurate idea of it from above looking down into its orchestra over the -tiers of grass-grown seats. For more detailed inspection of ancient -theatrical structures, the Dionysiac theatre farther along our path is -decidedly more worth while, besides being much more ancient and more -interesting by association. - -On the way thereto are passed several remnants of a long “stoa,” or -portico, called that of Eumenes, curiously intermingled with brick -relics of the Turkish times, and the non-archæological visitor will -hardly care to concern himself long with either. But he will doubtless -be interested to turn aside from the path and clamber up to the base of -the steeper rock to inspect the damp and dripping cave where once was an -important shrine of Asklepios, with the usual “sacred spring” still -flowing, and still surrounded with remains of the customary porticoes, -in which the faithful in need of healing once reposed themselves by -night, awaiting the cure which the vision of the god might be hoped to -bestow. The cave is now a Catholic shrine, with a picture of its -particular saint and an oil lamp burning before it. It is dank and -dismal, and for one to remain there long would doubtless necessitate the -services of Asklepios himself, or of some skillful modern disciple of -his healing art—of which, by the way, Athens can boast not a few. The -Greek seems to take naturally to the practice of medicine, and some of -the physicians, even in remote country districts, are said to possess -unusual talent. - -Not far below the shrine lies the theatre of Dionysus, scooped out of -the hillside as are most Greek theatres, with a paved, semi-circular -“orchestra,” or dancing place, at its foot. Much of the original seating -capacity is concealed by the overgrowth of grass, so that one is likely -greatly to underestimate its former size. Once the seats rose far up -toward the precinct of Asklepios, and the path that to-day traverses the -slope passes through what was once the upper portion of the -amphitheatre. It is only in the lower portions that the stones still -remain in a fair state of preservation and serve to show us the manner -of theatre that the Athenians knew—the same in which the earlier -generations saw for the first time the tragedies of that famous trio of -playwrights, Æschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides. This theatre has -undergone manifold changes since its first construction, as one will -discover from his archæological books. It is idle for us here to seek to -recall the successive alterations which changed the present theatre from -that which the ancients actually saw, or to point out the traces of each -transformation that now remain, to show that the “orchestra” was once a -complete circle and lay much farther back. It will, however, be found -interesting enough to clamber down over the tiers of seats to the bottom -and inspect at leisure the carved chairs once allotted to various -dignitaries, and bearing to this day the names of the officers who used -them. Particularly fine is the chief seat of all, the carved chair of -the high priest of Dionysus, in the very centre of the row, with its -bas-relief of fighting cocks on the chair-arms still plainly to be seen. -It is well to remember, however, that most of what the visitor sees is -of a rather recent period as compared with other Athenian monuments, for -it is stated that very little of the present visible theatre is of -earlier date than the third century B.C., while much is of even a more -recent time and is the work of the Romans. This is true, especially, of -the conspicuous carved screen that runs along behind the orchestra -space, and which may have supported the stage—if there was a stage at -all. The paved orchestra will also strike one as unusual, contrasting -with the greensward to be seen in other similar structures, such as the -theatre at Epidaurus. - -The vexed question of the use of any elevated stage in Greek theatres so -divides the skilled archæologists into warring camps even to-day that it -ill becomes an amateur in the field to advance any opinion at all, one -way or the other, upon the subject. There are eminent authorities who -maintain that the use of a raised stage in such a theatre was utterly -unknown by the ancients, and that any such development can only have -come in comparatively modern times, under Roman auspices. Others insist, -and with equal positiveness, that some sort of a stage was used by the -more ancient Greeks. The arguments pro and con have waxed warm for -several years, without convincing either side of its error. It is safe -to say that American students generally incline to the view that there -was no such raised stage, agreeing with the Germans, while English -scholars appear generally to believe that the stage did exist and was -used. As just remarked, the views of mere laymen in such a case are of -small account, and I shall spare the reader my own, saying only that in -the few reproductions of Greek plays that I myself have seen, there has -been no confusion whatever produced by having the principal actors -present in the “orchestra” space with the chorus—and this, too, without -the aid of the distinguishing cothurnos, or sandal, to give to the -principals any added height. From this it seems to me not unreasonable -to contend that, if a stage did exist, it was hardly called into being -by any pressing necessity to avoid confusion, as some have argued; -while, on the contrary, it does seem as if the separation of the chief -actors to the higher level would often mar the general effect. Such a -play as the “Agamemnon” of Æschylus would, it seems to me, lose much by -the employment of an elevated platform for those actors not of the -chorus. In fact, there was no more need of any such difference in level, -to separate chorus from principal, in ancient times than there is -to-day. The ancients did, however, seek to differentiate the principals -from the chorus players, by adding a cubit unto their stature, so to -speak, for they devised thick-soled sandals that raised them above the -ordinary height. Besides this they employed masks, and occasionally even -mechanism for aerial acting, and also subterranean passages. - -Whatever we may each conclude as to the existence or non-existence of an -elevated stage at the time of Pericles, we shall all agree, no doubt, -that our modern stagecraft takes its nomenclature direct from the Greek. -The “orchestra,” which in the old Greek meant the circle in which the -dancing and acting took place, we have taken over as a word referring to -the floor space filled with the best seats, and by a still less -justifiable stretch of the meaning we have come to apply it to the -musicians themselves. Our modern “scene” is simply the old Greek word -σκηνή (skèné), meaning a “tent,” which the ancient actors used as a -dressing-room. The marble or stone wall, of varying height, and pierced -by doors for the entrance and exit of actors, was called by the Greeks -the “proskenion,” or structure before the skèné, serving to conceal the -portions behind the scenes and add background to the action. The word is -obviously the same as our modern “proscenium,” though the meaning to-day -is entirely different. In ancient times the proskenion, instead of being -the arch framing the foreground of a “scene,” was the background, or -more like our modern “drop” scene. Being of permanent character and made -of stone, it generally represented a palace, with three entrances, and -often with a colonnade. At either side of the proskenion were broad -roads leading into the orchestra space, called the “parodoi,” by means -of which the chorus entered and departed on occasion, and through which -chariots might be driven. Thus, for instance, in the “Agamemnon,” that -hero and Cassandra drove through one of the parodoi into the orchestra, -chariots and all—a much more effective entrance than would have been -possible had they been forced to climb aloft to a stage by means of the -ladder represented on some of the vases as used for the purpose. The -side from which the actor entered often possessed significance, as -indicating whether he came from the country or from the sea. As for -disagreeable scenes, such as the murders which form the motif of the -Oresteian trilogy, it may not be out of place to remark that they were -almost never represented on the stage in sight of the orchestra or -spectators, but were supposed always to take place indoors, the audience -being apprized of events by groans and by the explanations of the -chorus. The ordinary theatrical performance was in the nature of a -religious ceremony, the altar of the god being in the centre of the -orchestra space, and served by the priest before the play began. And in -leaving the subject, one may add that many Greek plays required sequels, -so that they often came in groups of three, each separate from the -other, but bearing a relation to each other not unlike our several acts -of a single piece. So much for Greek theatres in general, and the -theatre of Dionysus in particular. - -Leaving it by the iron gate above and plunging into a labyrinthine mass -of houses just outside, one will speedily come upon an interesting -monument called the “choragic monument of Lysicrates.” This is the only -remaining representative of a series of pedestals erected by victors in -musical or dancing fêtes to support tripods celebrating their victories. -This one, which is exceedingly graceful, has managed to survive and is a -thing of beauty still, despite several fires and vicissitudes of which -it bears traces. The street is still called the “Street of the Tripods.” - -[Illustration: TEMPLE OF OLYMPIAN ZEUS] - -A few steps farther, and one emerges from the narrower lanes into the -broader avenues of the city, and is confronted at once by the arch of -Hadrian, which stands in an open field across the boulevard of Amalia. -It is frankly and outspokenly Roman, of course, and does not flatter the -Latin taste as compared with the Greek. It need delay nobody long, -however, for the tall remaining columns of the temple of Olympian Zeus -are just before, and are commanding enough to inspire attention at once. -To those who prefer the stern simplicity of the Doric order of columns, -the Corinthian capitals will not appeal. But the few huge, weathered -pillars, despite the absence of roof or of much of the entablature, are -grand in their own peculiar way, and the vast size of the temple as it -originally stood may serve to show the reverence in which the father of -the gods was held in the city of his great daughter, Athena. The more -florid Corinthian capital seems to have appealed to the Roman taste, and -it is to be remembered that this great temple, although begun by Greeks, -was completed in the time of Hadrian and after the dawn of the Christian -era: so that if it disappoints one in comparison with the more classic -structures of the Acropolis, it may be set down to the decadent -Hellenistic taste rather than to a flaw in the old Hellenic. As for the -Corinthian order of capital, it is supposed to have been devised by a -Corinthian sculptor from a basket of fruit and flowers which he saw one -day on a wall, perhaps as a funeral tribute. The idea inspired him to -devise a conventionalized flower basket with the acanthus leaf as the -main feature, and to apply the same to the ornamentation of the tops of -marble columns, such as these. - -On the northern side of the Acropolis, down among the buildings and -alleys of the so-called “Turkish” quarter, there exist several -fragmentary monuments, which may be passed over with little more than a -word. The most complete and at the same time the most interesting of -these relics is unquestionably the “Tower of the Winds,” an octagonal -building not unlike a windmill in shape and general size, but devoted -originally to the uses of town clock and weather bureau. On its -cornices, just below the top, are carved eight panels facing the -different points of the compass, the figures in high relief representing -the several winds. The appropriate general characteristics of each wind -are brought out by the sculpture—here an old man of sour visage brings -snow and storms; another, of more kindly mien, brings gentle rain; -others bring flowers and ripening fruits. A weather-vane once surmounted -the structure. Near by, scattered among the houses, are bits of old -porticoes, sometimes areas of broken columns, and at others quite -perfect specimens still bearing their pedimental stones, testifying to -the former presence of ancient market places, or public meeting places, -in large part belonging to the later, or Roman, period. It was in this -general vicinity that the original agora, or market place, stood, no -doubt. In some of the porticoes were often to be found teachers of one -sort or another, and in one “stoa” of this kind, we are told, taught -those philosophers who, from the location of their school, came to be -called "stoics"—giving us an adjective which to-day has lost every -vestige of its derivative significance. Nothing remains of the other -famous structures that are supposed to have been located in this -vicinity, or at least nothing has been unearthed as yet, although -possibly if some of the congested and rather mean houses of the quarter -could be removed, some vestiges of this important section of the classic -city might be recovered. Nothing remains of the ancient “agora,” or -market place, in which St. Paul said he saw the altar with this -inscription, “To the unknown god.” But the Areopagus, or Mars Hill, -where Paul is supposed to have stood when he made his noble speech to -the men of Athens, is still left and well repays frequent visitation. -Its ancient fame as the place where the god Ares, or Mars, was tried for -his life, and as the place of deliberation over the gravest Athenian -affairs, has been augmented by the celebrity it derived from the -apostle’s eloquent argument, in which he commented on the activity of -the Athenian mind and its fondness for theology, a characteristic rather -inadequately brought out by the Bible’s rendering, “too superstitious.” -The Areopagus to-day is a barren rock devoid of vegetation or of any -trace of building, although rough-hewn steps here and there and a rude -leveling of the top are visible. Of the great events that have passed on -this rocky knoll not a trace remains. With reference to the Acropolis -towering above and close at hand, Mars Hill seems small, but the ascent -of it from the plain is long and steep enough. It is apparently no more -than an outlying spur of the main rock of the Acropolis, from which it -is separated by a slight depression; but it shares with the holy hill of -Athena a celebrity which makes it the object of every thoughtful -visitor’s attention. From its top one may obtain almost the best view of -the afterglow of sunset on the temples and the Propylæa of the -Acropolis, after the custodians of the latter have driven all visitors -below; and sitting there as the light fades one may lose himself readily -in a reverie in which the mighty ones of old, from Ares himself down to -the mortal sages of later days, pass in grand review, only to fade away -from the mind and leave the eloquent apostle of the newer religion -saying to the citizens gathered around him, “Whom, therefore, ye -ignorantly worship, Him declare I unto you.” Let us, if we will, believe -that it was “in the midst of Mars Hill” that Paul preached his sonorous -sermon, despite a tendency among scholars to suggest that he probably -stood somewhere else, “close by or near to” rather than “in the midst -of” the spot. If we paid undue heed to these iconoclastic theories of -scientists, what would become of all our cherished legends? The traveler -in Greece loses half the charm of the place if he cannot become as a -little child and believe a good many things to be true enough that -perhaps can hardly stand the severe test of archæology. And why should -he not do this? - -[Illustration: THE AREOPAGUS] - -Peopled with ghostly memories also is the long, low ridge of rocky -ground to the westward, across the broad avenue that leads from the -plain up to the Acropolis, still bearing its ancient name of the “Pnyx.” -In the valley between lie evidences of a bygone civilization, the -crowded foundations of ancient houses, perhaps of the poorer class, -huddled together along ancient streets, the lines of which are faintly -discernible among the ruins, while here and there are traces of old -watercourses and drains, with deep wells and cisterns yawning up at the -beholder. Thus much of the older town has been recovered, lying as it -does in the open and beyond the reach of the present line of dwellings. -Above this mass of ruin the hill rises to the ancient assembling place -of the enfranchised citizens—the “Bema,” or rostrum, from which speeches -on public topics were made to the assembled multitude. The Bema is still -in place, backed by a wall of huge “Cyclopean” masonry. Curiously enough -the ground slopes downward from the Bema to-day, instead of upward as a -good amphitheatre for auditors should do, giving the impression that the -eloquence of the Athenian orators must literally have gone over the -heads of their audiences. That this was anciently the case appears to be -denied, however, and we are told that formerly the topography was quite -the reverse of modern conditions, made so artificially with the aid of -retaining walls, now largely destroyed. Until this is understood, the -Bema and its neighborhood form one of the hardest things in Athens to -reconstruct in memory. It is from the rocky platform of this old rostrum -that one gets the ideal view of the Acropolis, bringing out the perfect -subordination of the Propylæa to the Parthenon, and giving even to-day a -very fair idea of the appearance of the Acropolis and its temples as the -ancients saw them. Fortunate, indeed, is one who may see these in the -afternoon light standing out sharply against a background of opaque -cloud, yet themselves colored by the glow of the declining sun. Of all -the magnificent ruins in Greece, this is the finest and best,—the -Acropolis from the Bema, or from any point along the ridge of the Pnyx. - -Of course that temple which is called, though possibly erroneously, the -Theseum, is one of the best preserved of all extant Greek temples of -ancient date, and is one of the most conspicuous sights of Athens, after -the Acropolis and the temples thereon. And yet, despite that fact, it -somehow fails to arouse anything like the same enthusiasm in the average -visitor. Just why this is so it may be rash to attempt to say, but I -suspect it is chiefly because the Theseum is, after all, a rather -colorless and uninspiring thing by comparison with the Parthenon, -lacking in individuality, although doubtless one would look long before -finding real flaws in its architecture or proportions. It simply suffers -because its neighbors are so much grander. If it stood quite alone as -the temple at Segesta stands, or as stand the magnificent ruins at -Pæstum, it would be a different matter. As it is, with the Parthenon -looking down from the Acropolis not far away, the Theseum loses -immeasurably in the effect that a specimen of ancient architecture so -obviously perfect ought, in all justice, to command. It seems entirely -probable that the failure of this smaller temple to inspire and lay hold -on Athenian visitors is due to the overshadowing effect of its greater -neighbors, which it feebly resembles in form without at all equaling -their beauty, and in part also, perhaps, to the uncertainty about its -name. That it was really a temple of Theseus, an early king of Athens, -seems no longer to be believed by any, although no very satisfactory -substitute seems to be generally accepted. It will remain the Theseum -for many years to come, no doubt, if not for all time. Theseus certainly -deserved some such memorial as this, and it is not amiss to believe that -the bones of the hero were actually deposited here by Cimon when he -brought them back from Scyros. The services of Theseus to the city were -great. If we may, in childlike trust, accept the testimony of legend, -Theseus was the son of King Ægeus and Æthra, but was brought up in the -supposition that he was a son of Poseidon, in the far city of Tr[oe]zen. -When he grew up, however, he was given a sword and shield and sent to -Athens, where his father, Ægeus, was king. Escaping poisoning by Medea, -he appeared at the Athenian court, was recognized by his armor, and was -designated by Ægeus as his rightful successor. He performed various -heroic exploits, freed Athens of her horrid tribute of seven boys and -seven girls paid to the Cretan Minotaur, came back triumphant to Athens -only to find that Ægeus, mistaking the significance of his sails, which -were black, had committed suicide by hurling himself in his grief from -the Acropolis; and thereupon, Theseus became king. He united the Attic -cities in one state, instituted the democracy and generously abdicated a -large share of the kingly power, devised good laws, and was ever after -held in high esteem by the city—although he died in exile at Scyros, to -which place he withdrew because of a temporary coolness of his people -toward him. Cimon brought back his bones, however, in 469 B.C., and -Theseus became a demi-god in the popular imagination. The Theseum owes -its splendid preservation to the fact that it was used, as many other -temples were, as a Christian church, sacred to St. George of Cappadocia. - -[Illustration: THE THESEUM] - -Infinitely more pregnant with definite interest is the precinct of the -Ceramicus, near the Dipylon, or double gate, of the city, which gave -egress to the Eleusis road on the western side of the town, the remains -of which are easily to be seen to-day. The excavations at this point -have recently been pushed with thoroughness and some very interesting -fragments have come to light, buried for all these centuries in the -“Themistoclean wall” of the city. It will be recalled that the Spartans, -being jealous of the growing power of Athens, protested against the -rebuilding of the walls. Themistocles, who was not only a crafty soul -but in high favor at Athens at the time, undertook to go to Sparta and -hold the citizens of that town at bay until the walls should be of -sufficient height for defense. Accordingly he journeyed down to Sparta -and pleaded the non-arrival of his ambassadorial colleagues as an excuse -for delaying the opening of negotiations on the subject of the wall. -Days passed and still the colleagues did not come, much to the -ostensible anxiety and disgust of Themistocles, who still asserted they -must soon arrive. Meantime every man, woman, and child in Athens was -working night and day to build those walls, heaping up outworks for the -city from every conceivable material, sparing nothing, not even the -gravestones of the Ceramicus district, in their feverish anxiety to get -the walls high enough to risk an attack. The Roman consul worked no more -assiduously at hewing down the famous bridge, nor did Horatius labor -more arduously at his task, than did Themistocles in diplomatic duel -with the men of Sparta. At last the news leaked out—but it was too late. -The walls were high enough at last, and all further pretense of a -delayed embassy was dropped. The diplomacy of the wily Themistocles had -triumphed—and by no means for the first time. Out of this so-called -Themistoclean wall there have recently been taken some of the grave -“stelae,” or flat slabs sculptured in low relief, from the places where -the harassed Athenians cast them in such haste more than four centuries -before Christ. They are battered and broken, but the figures on them are -still easily visible, and while by no means sculpturally remarkable the -relics possess an undoubted historical interest. - -The tombs of the Ceramicus district, which form an important part of the -sculptural remains of Athenian art, are still numerous enough just -outside the Dipylon Gate, although many examples have been housed in the -National Museum for greater protection against weather and vandals. Of -those that fortunately remain _in situ_ along what was the beginning of -the Sacred Way to Eleusis, there are enough to give a very fair idea of -the appearance of this ancient necropolis, while the entire collection -of tombstones affords one of the most interesting and complete exhibits -to be seen in Athens. The excellence of the work calls attention to the -high general level of skill achieved by the artisans of the time, for it -is hardly to be assumed that these memorials of the dead were any more -often the work of the first Athenian artists of that day than is the -case among our own people at present. - -The whole question of the Greek tomb sculpture is a tempting one, and a -considerable volume of literature already exists with regard to it. The -artistic excellence of the stelae in their highest estate, the -quaintness of the earlier efforts, the ultimate regulation of the size -and style by statute to discourage extravagance, the frequent -utilization of an older stone for second-hand uses, and a score of other -interesting facts, might well furnish forth an entire chapter. As it is, -we shall be obliged here briefly to pass over the salient points and -consider without much pretense of detail the chief forms of tomb -adornment that the present age has to show, preserved from the day when -all good Athenians dying were buried outside the gates on the Eleusinian -way. Not only carved on the stelae themselves, but also placed on top of -them, are to be seen reliefs or reproductions of long-necked amphorae, -or two-handled vases, in great numbers. These are now known to have had -their significance as referring to the unmarried state of the deceased. -They are nothing more nor less than reproductions of the vases the Greek -maidens used to carry to the spring Callirrhoë for water for the nuptial -bath, and the use of them in the tomb sculpture, on the graves of those -who died unmarried, is stated to have grown out of the idea that “those -who died unwed had Hades for their bridegroom.” These vases come the -nearest to resembling modern grave memorials of any displayed at Athens, -perhaps. The rest of the gravestones are entirely different both in -appearance and in idea from anything we are accustomed to-day to use in -our cemeteries, and it is likely to be universally agreed that they far -eclipse our modern devices in beauty. The modern graveyard contents -itself in the main with having its graves marked with an eye to -statistics, rather than artistic effect, save in the cases of the very -rich, who may invoke the aid of eminent sculptors to adorn their burial -plots. In Athens this seems not to have been so. There is very little in -the way of inscription on the stones, save for the name. The majority -are single panels containing bas-reliefs, which may or may not be -portraits of the departed. - -[Illustration: TOMB AMPHORA, CERAMICUS] - -The usual type of tomb relief of this sort seems to be a group of -figures, sometimes two, sometimes three or four, apparently representing -a leave-taking, or frequently the figure of a person performing some -characteristic act of life. Of the latter the well-known tomb of Hegeso, -representing a woman attended by her maid fingering trinkets in a jewel -casket, is as good a type as any, and it has the added merit of standing -in its original place in the street of the tombs. Others of this kind -are numerous enough in the museum. The aversion to the representation of -death itself among the ancient Greeks is well understood, and many have -argued from it that these tomb reliefs indicate an intention to recall -the deceased as he or she was in life, without suggestion of mourning. -Nevertheless, the obvious attitudes of sorrowful parting visible in many -of the tomb stelae seem to me to do violence to this theory in its full -strength. Among those which seem most indicative of this is a very -well-executed one showing three figures,—an old man, a youth, and a -little lad. The old man stands looking intently, but with a far-away -gaze, at a splendidly built but thoughtful-visaged young man before him, -while the lad behind is doubled up in a posture plainly indicating -extreme grief, with his face apparently bathed in tears. The calm face -of the youth, the grave and silent grief of the paternal-looking man, -and the unbridled emotion of the boy, all speak of a parting fraught -with intense sorrow. It might be any parting—but is it not more -reasonable to assume that it means the parting which involves no return? - -The more archaic gravestones are best typified by the not unfamiliar -sculpture, in low relief, of a warrior leaning on a spear, or by the -well-known little figure of Athena, similarly poised, mourning beside -what appears to be a gravestone of a hero. It was one of the former type -that we saw exhumed from the Themistoclean wall, with the warrior’s -figure and portions of the spear still easily discernible. - -[Illustration: TOMB RELIEF, CERAMICUS] - -It remains to speak, though very briefly and without much detail, of the -National Museum itself, which is one of the chief glories of Athens, and -which divides with the Acropolis the abiding interest and attention of -every visitor. It is in many ways incomparable among the great museums -of the world, although others can show more beautiful and more famous -Greek statues. The British Museum has the Elgin marbles from the -Parthenon, which one would to-day greatly prefer to see restored to -Athens; the Vatican holds many priceless and beautiful examples of the -highest Greek sculptural art; Munich has the interesting pedimental -figures from the temple at Ægina; Naples and Paris have collections not -to be despised; but nowhere may one find under a single roof so wide a -range of Greek sculpture, from the earliest strivings after form and -expression to the highest ultimate success, as in the Athenian National -Museum, with its priceless treasures in marble and in bronze. The wealth -of statues, large and small, quaintly primitive or commandingly lovely, -in all degrees of relief and in the round, is stupendous. And while it -may be heresy to pass over the best of the marbles for anything else, it -is still a fact that many will turn from all the other treasures of the -place to the “bronze boy” as we will call him for lack of a better name. -This figure of a youth, of more than life size and poised lightly as if -about to step from his pedestal, with one hand extended, and seemingly -ready to speak, is far less well known than he deserves to be, chiefly -because it is but a few years since the sponge divers found him in the -bed of the ocean and brought him back to the light of day. At present -nobody presumes to say whether this splendid figure represents any -particular hero. He might be Perseus, or Paris, or even Hermes. His hand -bears evidence of having at one time clasped some object, whether the -head of Medusa, the apple, or the caduceus, it is impossible to say. But -the absence of winged sandals appears to dismiss the chance that he was -Hermes, and the other identifications are so vague as to leave it -perhaps best to refer to him only as an “ephebus,” or youth. The bronze -has turned to a dark green, and such restorations as had to be made are -quite invisible, so that to all outward seeming the statue is as perfect -as when it was first cast. The eyes, inlaid with consummate skill to -simulate real eyes, surpass in lifelike effect those of the celebrated -bronze charioteer at Delphi. That a more detailed description of this -figure is given here is not so much that it surpasses the other statues -of the museum, but because it is so recent in its discovery that almost -nothing has been printed about it for general circulation. - -[Illustration: - - _National Museum, Athens_ - BRONZE EPHEBUS -] - -It would be almost endless and entirely profitless to attempt any -detailed consideration of the multitude of objects of this general -sculptural nature which the museum contains, and volumes have been -written about them all, from the largest and noblest of the marbles to -the smallest of the island gems. It may not be out of place, however, to -make brief mention of the spoils of Mycenæ which are housed here, and -which reproductions have made generally familiar, because later we shall -have occasion to visit Mycenæ itself and to discuss in more detail that -once proud but now deserted city, the capital which Agamemnon made so -famous. In a large room set apart for the purpose are to be seen the -treasures that were taken from the six tombs, supposed to be royal -graves, that were unearthed in the midst of the Mycenæan agora, -including a host of gold ornaments, cups, rosettes, chains, death masks, -weapons, and human bones. Whether Dr. Schliemann, as he so fondly hoped -and claimed, really laid bare the burial place of the conqueror of Troy, -or whether what he found was something far less momentous, the fact -remains that he did exhume the bodies of a number of personages buried -in the very spot where legend said the famous heroes and heroines were -buried, together with such an array of golden gear that it seems safe to -assert that these were at any rate the tombs of royalty. If one can -divest his mind of the suspicions raised by the ever-cautious -archæologist and can persuade himself that he sees perhaps the skeleton -and sword of the leader of the Argive host that went to recapture Helen, -this Mycenæan room is of literally overwhelming interest. Case after -case ranged about the room reveals the cunningly wrought ornaments that -gave to Mycenæ the well-deserved Homeric epithet “rich-in-gold.” From -the grotesque death masks of thin gold leaf to the heavily embossed -Vaphio cups, everything bears testimony to the high perfection of the -goldsmith’s art in the pre-Homeric age. Of all this multitude of -treasures, the chief objects are unquestionably the embossed daggers and -the large golden cups, notably the two that bear the exceedingly -well-executed golden bulls, and the so-called “Nestor” cup, which, with -its rather angular shape and its double handle, reproduces exactly the -cup that Homer describes as belonging to that wise and reverend -counselor. - -As has been hinted, the scientific archæologists, less swept away by -Homeric enthusiasm than was Schliemann, have proved skeptical as to the -identification of the tombs which Schliemann so confidently proclaimed -at first discovery. The unearthing of a sixth tomb, where the original -excavator had looked for only five, is supposed to have done violence to -the Agamemnonian theory. But what harm can it do if we pass out of the -Mycenæan room with a secret, though perhaps an ignorant, belief that we -have looked upon the remains and accoutrements of one who was an epic -hero, the victim of a murderous queen, the avenger of a brother’s honor, -and the conqueror of a famous city? It is simply one more of those cases -in which one gains immeasurably in pleasure if he can dismiss scientific -questionings from his mind and pass through the scene unskeptical of the -heroes of the mighty past, if not of the very gods of high Olympus -themselves. It may be wrong; to a scientific investigator such guileless -trust is doubtless laughable. But on our own heads be it if therein we -err! - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER VII. EXCURSIONS IN - ATTICA - -[Illustration] - - -As the admirable Baedeker well says, the stay in Athens is undoubtedly -the finest part of a visit to Greece, and it is so not merely because of -the many attractions and delights of the city itself, but because also -of the numerous short trips aside which can be made in a day’s time, -without involving a night’s absence. Such little journeys include the -ascent of Pentelicus, whose massive peak rises only a few miles away, -revealing even from afar the great gash made in his side by the ancients -in quest of marble for their buildings and statues; the ride out to the -battlefield of Marathon; the incomparable drive to Eleusis; the jaunt by -rail or sea to Sunium; and last, but by no means least, the sail over to -Ægina. Marathon has no ruins to show. Aside from the interest attaching -to that famous battleground as a site, there is nothing to call one -thither, if we except the tumulus, or mound, which marks the exact spot -of the conflict which was so important to the history of western Europe. -Neither Marathon nor Thermopylæ can offer much to-day but memories. But -Sunium, Ægina, and Eleusis possess ruins decidedly worth a visit in -addition to much scenic loveliness, and the last-named is a spot so -interwoven with the highest and best in Greek tradition that it offers a -peculiar charm. - -It is perfectly possible to journey to Eleusis by train, but to elect -that method of approach is to miss one of the finest carriage rides to -be had in the vicinity of Athens. The road leads out of the city through -its unpretentious western quarter, by the “street of the tombs” to the -vale of the Cephissus, where it follows the line of the old “sacred way” -to Eleusis, over which, on the stated festivals, the procession of -torch-bearing initiates wended its way by night to the shrine of -Demeter. From the river—which to-day is a mere sandy channel most of the -year—the smooth, hard highway rises gradually from the Attic plain to -the mountain wall of Parnes, making straight for a narrow defile still -known as the Pass of Daphne. This pass affords direct communication -between the Attic and Thriasian plains, and save for the loftier valley -farther north, through which the Peloponnesian railroad runs, is the -only break in the mountain barrier. Eleusis and Attica were always so -near—and yet so far apart. When the Spartans invaded the region, Athens -felt no alarm from their proximity until they had actually entered her -own plain, so remote seemed the valley about Eleusis, despite its scant -ten miles of distance, simply because it was so completely out of sight. -As the carriage ascends the gentle rise to the pass, the plain of Attica -stretches out behind, affording an open vista from the Piræus to the -northern mountains, a green and pleasant vale despite its dearth of -trees, while the city of Athens dominates the scene and promises a fine -spectacle by sunset as one shall return from the pass at evening, facing -the commanding Acropolis aglow in the after-light. - -A halt of a few moments at the top of the pass gives an opportunity to -alight and visit an old church just beside the road. It was once -adjoined by some monastic cloisters, now in ruins. Unlike most of the -Greek churches, this one possesses a quaint charm from without, and -within displays some very curious old mosaics in the ceiling. On either -side of its doorway stand two sentinel cypresses, their sombre green -contrasting admirably with the dull brown tones of the building, while -across the close, in a gnarled old tree, are hung the bells of the -church. The use of the neighboring tree as a campanile is by no means -uncommon in Greece, and a pretty custom it is. The groves were God’s -first temples; and if they are no longer so, it is yet true in Greece at -least that the trees still bear the chimes that call the devout to -prayer. Inside the building, in addition to the quaint Byzantine -decorations, one may find something of interest in the curious votive -offerings, before referred to as common in Greek churches, suspended on -the altar screen. Thanks for the recovered use of arms, eyes, legs, and -the like seem to be expressed by hanging in the church a small -white-metal model of the afflicted organ which has been so happily -restored. I believe I have called attention to this practice as a direct -survival of the old custom of the worshipers of Asklepios, which finds a -further amplification in many churches farther west,—in Sicily, for -example,—where pictures of accidents are often found hung in churches by -those who have been delivered from bodily peril and who are desirous to -commemorate the fact. In the church in Daphne Pass we found for the -first time instances of the votive offering of coins, as well as of -anatomical models. The significance of this I do not pretend to know, -but by analogy one might assume that the worshiper was returning thanks -for relief from depleted finances. The coins we saw in this church were -of different denominations, all of silver, and representing several -different national currency systems. - -Behind the church on either side rise the pine-clad slopes of the Parnes -range, displaying a most attractive grove of fragrant trees, through the -midst of which Daphne’s road permits us to pass. And in a brief time the -way descends toward the bay of Salamis, shining in the sun, directly at -one’s feet, while the lofty and extensive island of that immortal name -appears behind it. So narrow are the straits that for a long time -Salamis seems almost like a part of the mainland, while the included bay -appears more like a large and placid lake than an arm of a tideless sea. -The carriage road skirts the wide curve of the bay for several level -miles, the village of Eleusis—now called Levsina—being always visible at -the far extremity of the bay and marked from afar by prosaic modern -factory chimneys. It lies low in the landscape, which is a pastoral one. -The highway winds along past a score of level farms, and at least two -curious salt lakes are to be seen, lying close to the road and said to -be tenanted by sea fish, although supplied apparently from inland -sources. They are higher in level than the bay, and there is a strong -outflow from them to the sea waters beyond. Nevertheless, they are said -to be salt and to support salt-water life. - -Eleusis as a town is not attractive. The sole claim on the visitor is -found in the memories of the place and in the ruined temples, which are -in the heart of the village itself. The secret of the mysteries, despite -its wide dissemination among the Athenians and others, has been well -kept—so well that almost nothing is known of the ceremony and less of -its teaching. In a general way there is known only the fact that it had -to do with the worship of Demeter, the goddess of the harvest, and that -the mysteries concerned in some way the legend of the rape of Kora -(Proserpine) by Hades (Pluto). There are hints as to certain priests, -sacred vessels, symbols and rites, some of which appear not to have been -devoid of grossness—but nothing definite is known, and probably nothing -definite ever will be. The general tone of the mysteries seems to have -been high, for no less an authority than Cicero, who was initiated into -the cult in the later and decadent days of the Greek nation, regarded -the teachings embodied in the Eleusinian rites as the highest product of -the Athenian culture, and averred that they “enabled one to live more -happily on earth and to die with a fairer hope.” It was, of course, -unlawful for anybody to reveal the secrets; and although the initiation -was apparently open to any one who should seek it, so that the number of -devotees was large during a long succession of years, the secret was -faithfully kept by reason of the great reverence in which the mysteries -were held. That some of the features verged on wanton license has been -alleged, and it may have been this that inspired the wild and brilliant -young Alcibiades to burlesque the ceremony, to the scandal of pious -Athenians and to his own ultimate undoing. For it was a trial on this -charge that recalled Alcibiades from Sicily and led to his disgrace. - -The approach to the vast main temple is unusual, in that it is by an -inclined plane rather than by steps. Even to-day the ruts of chariot -wheels are to be distinguished in this approaching pavement. The temple -itself was also most unusual, for instead of a narrow cella sufficient -only for the colossal image of the deity, there was a vast nave, and -room for a large concourse of worshipers. On the side next the hillock -against which the temple was built there is a long, low flight of hewn -steps, possibly used for seats, while the many column bases seem to -argue either a second story or a balcony as well as a spacious roof. -Much of the original building is distinguishable, despite the fact that -the Romans added a great deal; for the Latin race seems to have found -the rites to its liking, so that it took care to preserve and beautify -the place after its own ideas of beauty. If the surviving medallion of -some Roman emperor which is to be seen near the entrance of the Propylæa -is a fair sample, however, one may doubt with reason the effectiveness -of the later additions to the buildings on the spot. The Roman Propylæa -was built by Appius Claudius Pulcher, but if the medallion portrait is -his own, one must conclude that the “Pulcher” was gross flattery. - -The ruins are extensive, but mainly flat, so that their interest as -ruins is almost purely archæological. The ordinary visitor will find the -chief charm in the memories of the place. Of course there is a museum on -the spot, as in every Greek site. It contains a large number of -fragments from the temples and Propylæa, bits of statuary and bas-relief -having chiefly to do with Demeter and her attendant goddesses. By far -the most interesting and most perfect of the Eleusinian reliefs, -however, is in the national museum at Athens—a large slab representing -Demeter and Proserpine bestowing the gift of seed corn on the youth -Triptolemus, who is credited with the invention of the plow. For some -reason, doubtless because of the hospitality of his family to her, -Triptolemus won the lasting favor of Demeter, who not only gave him corn -but instructed him in the art of tilling the stubborn glebe. It seems -entirely probable that Triptolemus and Kora shared in the mystic rites -at Eleusis. As for the dying with a “fairer hope” spoken of by Cicero as -inculcated by the ceremonies of the cult, one may conjecture that it -sprang from some early pagan interpretation of the principle later -enunciated in the Scriptural “Except a grain of wheat fall into the -ground and die.” - -Eleusis itself lies on a low knoll in the midst of the Thriasian plain, -which in early spring presents a most attractive appearance of fertility -on every side, appropriately enough to the traditions of the spot. From -the top of the hillock behind the great temple and the museum, one -obtains a good view of the vale northward and of the sacred way winding -off toward Corinth by way of Megara. Where the plain stops and the -mountain wall approaches once again close to the sea, this road grows -decidedly picturesque, recalling in a mild way the celebrated Amalfi -drive as it rises and falls on the face of the cliff. Nor should one -pass from the subject of Eleusis without mentioning the numerous little -kids that frisk over the ruins, attended by anxious mother-goats, all -far from unfriendly. Kids are common enough sights in Greece, and to -lovers of pets they are always irresistible; but nowhere are they more -so than at Eleusis, where they add their mite of attractiveness to the -scene. The grown-up goat is far from pretty, but by some curious -dispensation of nature the ugliest of animals seem to have the most -attractive young, and the frisking lambs and kids of Greece furnish -striking examples of it. - -The ride back to the city must be begun in season to get the sunset -light on the west front of the Acropolis, which is especially effective -from the Eleusis road all the way from Daphne’s Pass to the city proper. -As for Salamis, which is always in sight until the pass is crossed, it -is enough to say that, like Marathon, it is a place of memories only. -The bay that one sees from the Eleusis road is not the one in which the -great naval battle was fought. That lies on the other side, toward the -open gulf, and is best seen from the sea. Few care to make a special -excursion to the island itself, which is rocky and barren, and after all -the chief interest is in its immediate waters. The account of the battle -in Herodotus is decidedly worth reading on the spot, and to this day -they will show you a rocky promontory supposed to have been the point -where Xerxes had his throne placed so that he might watch the fight -which resulted so disastrously to his ships. The battle, by the way, was -another monument to the wiles of Themistocles, who recognized in the -bulwarks of the ships the “wooden walls” which the oracle said would -save Athens, and who, when he found the commanders weakening, secretly -sent word to the Persians urging them to close in and fight. This was -done; and the navy being reduced to the necessity of conflict acquitted -itself nobly. - -Of the other local excursions, that to Marathon is easily made in a day -by carriage. There is little to see there, save a plain, lined on the -one hand by the mountains which look on Marathon, and on the other by -the sea, largely girt with marshes. The lion which once crowned the -tumulus is gone, nobody knows whither. It is much, however, from a -purely sentimental point of view, to have stood upon the site itself, -the scene of one of the world’s famous battles. Some grudging critics, -including the erudite Mahaffy, incline to believe that Marathon was a -rather small affair, judged by purely military standards—a conflict of -one undisciplined host with an even less disciplined one, in an age when -battles ordinarily were won by an endurance of nerve in the face of a -hand-to-hand charge rather than by actual carnage. These maintain that -the chief celebrity of Marathon rests not on its military glories, but -on the fame which the Athenians, a literary race, gave it in song and -story. But even these have to admit that Marathon meant much to history, -and that the psychological effect of it was enormous, as showing that -the Persians were by no means invincible, so that ten years later -Salamis put the finishing blow to Persian attempts on the west. For -those who do not care to make the long ride to the field itself, it is -quite possible to obtain a view of the plain from the summit of -Pentelicus, something like fifteen miles away, although this does not -reveal the mound marking the actual site. - -That mountain’s chief celebrity is, of course, to be found in the great -marble quarries from which came the stone for the Acropolis temples, and -it is these rather than the view of Marathon that draw climbers to the -famous height. The ancient quarries lie far up on the side of the slope, -and the marks of the old chisels are still plainly to be discerned. The -difficulties of getting out perfect stone in the ancient days seem to -have been enormous; but that they were surmounted is obvious from the -fact that the great blocks used in building the Parthenon and Propylæa -were handled with comparative speed, as shown by the relatively few -years occupied in erecting them. It seems probable that the stone was -slid down the mountain side in chutes to the point where it was feasible -to begin carting it. Inherent but invisible defects naturally occurred, -and these the ancients managed to detect by sounding with a mallet. -Samples of these imperfect blocks are to be seen lying where they fell -when the builders rejected them, not only on the road by the quarries -but on the Acropolis itself. - -[Illustration: THE TEMPLE AT SUNIUM] - -Sunium, the famous promontory at the extremity of the Attic peninsula, -may be reached by a train on the road that serves the ancient silver -mines of Laurium, but as the trains are slow and infrequent it is -better, if one can, to go down by sea. Our own visit was so made, the -vessel landing us accommodatingly at the foot of the promontory on which -a few columns of the ancient temple are still standing. The columns that -remain are decidedly whiter than those on the Acropolis, and the general -effect is highly satisfying to one’s preconceived ideas of Greek ruins. -Dispute is rife as to the particular deity to whom this shrine was -anciently consecrated, and the rivalry lies between those traditional -antagonists, Athena and Poseidon, each of whom advances plausible -claims. How the case can be decided without another contest between the -two, like that supposed to have taken place on the Acropolis itself and -depicted by Pheidias, is not clear. For who shall decide when doctors of -archæology disagree? - -The chief architectural peculiarity of the Sunium temple is the -arrangement of its frontal columns "in antis,"—that is to say, included -between two projecting ends of the side walls. And, in addition, one -regrets to say that the ruin is peculiar in affording evidences of -modern vandalism more common in our own country than in Hellas, namely, -the scratching of signatures on the surface of the stone. All sorts of -names have been scrawled there,—English, French, Italian, American, -Greek,—and most famous of all, no doubt, the unblushing signature of no -less a personage than Byron himself! Perhaps, however, it is not really -his. There may be isolated instances of this low form of vandalism -elsewhere, but I do not recall any that can compare with the volume of -defacing scrawls to be seen at Sunium. - -Lovelier far than Sunium is the situation of the temple in Ægina, -occupying a commanding height in that large and lofty island on the -other side of the gulf, opposite the Piræus and perhaps six or seven -miles distant from that port. The journey to it is necessarily by sea, -and it has become a frequent objective point for steamer excursions -landing near the temple itself rather than at the distant town. In the -absence of a steamer, it is possible to charter native boats for a small -cost and with a fair breeze make the run across the bay in a -comparatively brief time. From the cove where parties are generally -landed the temple cannot be seen, as the slopes are covered with trees -and the shrine itself is distant some twenty minutes on foot. Donkeys -can be had, as usual, but they save labor rather than time, and the -walk, being through a grove of fragrant pines, is far from arduous or -fatiguing. The odor of the pines is most agreeable, the more so because -after one has sojourned for a brief time in comparatively treeless -Attica one is the more ready to welcome a scent of the forest. The -pungency of the grove is due, however, less to the pine needles and -cones than to the tapping, or rather “blazing,” of the trunks for their -resin. Under nearly every tree will be found stone troughs, into which -the native juice of the tree oozes with painful slowness. The resin, of -course, is for the native wines, which the Greek much prefers flavored -with that ingredient. The drinking of resinated wine is an acquired -taste, so far as foreigners are concerned. Some solemnly aver that they -like it,—and even prefer it to the unresinated kind; but the average man -not to the manner born declares it to be only less palatable than -medicine. The Greeks maintain that the resin adds to the healthfulness -of the wines, and to get the gum they have ruined countless pine groves -by this tapping process so evident in the Ægina woods, for the gashes -cut in the trees have the effect of stunting the growth. - -After a steady ascent of a mile or so, the temple comes suddenly into -view, framed in a foreground of green boughs, which add immensely to the -effectiveness of the picture, and which make one regret the passing of -the Greek forests in other places. Once upon a time the ordinary temple -must have gained greatly by reason of its contrast with the foliage of -the surrounding trees; but to-day only those at Ægina and at Bassæ -present this feature to the beholder. This Ægina temple is variously -attributed to Athena and to Zeus Panhellenius, so that, as at Sunium, -there is a chance for doubt. The chief peculiarity seems to be that the -entrance door, which is as usual in the eastern side, is not exactly in -the centre of the cella. The columns are still standing to a large -extent, but the pedimental sculptures have been removed to Munich, so -that the spot is robbed, as the Acropolis is, of a portion of its charm. -It is a pity, because the Æginetan pedimental figures were most -interesting, furnishing a very good idea of the Æginetan style of -sculpture of an early date. The figures which survive, to the number of -seventeen, in a very fair state of preservation, represent warriors in -various active postures, and several draped female figures, including a -large statue of Athena. Those who have never seen these at Munich are -doubtless familiar with the reproductions in plaster which are common in -all first-class museums boasting collections of Greek masterpieces. - -[Illustration: THE APPROACH TO ÆGINA] - -[Illustration: THE TEMPLE AT ÆGINA] - -The island of Ægina, which is large and mountainous, forms a conspicuous -feature of the gulf in which it lies. It is close to the Peloponnesian -shore, and from the temple a magnificent view is outspread in every -direction, not only over the mountains of the Argolid but northward -toward Corinth,—and on a clear day it is said that even the summit of -Parnassus can be descried. Directly opposite lies Athens, with which -city the island long maintained a successful rivalry. The chief -celebrity of the spot was achieved under its independent existence, -about the seventh century B.C., and before Athens subjugated it. It was -then tenanted by colonists from Epidaurus, who had the commercial -instinct, and who made Ægina a most prosperous place. The name is said -to be derived from the nymph Ægina, who was brought to the island by -Zeus. The hardy Æginetan sailors were an important factor in the battle -of Salamis, to which they contributed not only men but sacred images; -and they were not entirely expelled from their land by the Athenian -domination until 431 B.C. Thereafter the prominence of the city dwindled -and has never returned. - -It remains to describe an excursion which we made to the north of Athens -one day shortly after Easter, to witness some peasant dances. These -particular festivities were held at Menidi, and were rather less -extensive than the annual Easter dances at Megara, but still of the same -general type; and as they constitute a regular spring feature of Attic -life, well worth seeing if one is at Athens at the Easter season, it is -not out of place to describe them here. Either Megara or Menidi may be -reached easily by train, and Menidi is not a hard carriage ride, being -only six miles or so north of Athens, in the midst of the plain. It may -be that these dances are direct descendants of ancient rites, like so -many of the features of the present Orthodox church; but whatever their -significance and history, they certainly present the best opportunity to -see the peasantry of the district in their richest gala array, which is -something almost too gorgeous to describe. - -The drive out to the village over the old north road was dusty and hot, -and we were haunted by a fear that the dances might be postponed, as -occasionally happens. These doubts were removed, however, when Menidi at -last hove in sight as we drove over an undulation of the plain and came -suddenly upon the village in holiday dress, flags waving, peasant girls -and swains in gala garb, and streets lined with booths for the vending -of sweetmeats, Syrian peanuts, pistachio nuts, loukoumi, and what the -New England merchant would call “notions.” Indeed, it was all very -suggestive of the New England county fair, save for the gorgeousness of -the costumes. The streets were thronged and everybody was in a high -good-humor. What it was all about we never knew. Conflicting reports -were gleaned from the natives, some to the effect that it was, and some -that it was not, essentially a churchly affair; but all agreed -apparently that it had no connection with the Easter feast, although it -was celebrated something like five days thereafter. Others mentioned a -spring as having something to do with it,—suggesting a possible pagan -origin. This view gained color from the energy with which lusty youths -were manipulating the town pump in the village square, causing it to -squirt a copious stream to a considerable distance,—a performance in -which the bystanders took an unflagging and unbounded delight. That the -celebration was not devoid of its religious significance was evident -from the open church close by thronged with devout people coming and -going, each obtaining a thin yellow taper to light and place in the huge -many-branched candelabrum. The number of these soon became so great that -the priests removed the older ones and threw them in a heap below, to -make room for fresh-lighted candles. Those who deposited coins in the -baptismal font near the door were rewarded with a sprinkling of water by -the attendant priest, who constantly dipped a rose in the font and shook -it over those who sought this particular form of benison. - -Outside, the square was thronged with merrymakers, some dancing in the -solemn Greek fashion, in a circle with arms extended on each others’ -shoulders, moving slowly around and around to the monotonous wail of a -clarionet. Others were seated under awnings sipping coffee, and to such -a resort we were courteously escorted by the local captain of the -gendarmerie, whose acquaintance we had made in Athens and who proved the -soul of hospitality. Here we sat and drank the delicious thick coffee, -accompanied by the inevitable huge beaker of water drawn from the rocky -slopes of Parnes, and watched the dancers and the passing crowds. The -dress of the men was seldom conspicuous. Many wore European clothes like -our own, although here and there might be seen one in the national -costume of full white skirts and close-fitting leggings, leather wallet, -and zouave jacket. But the women were visions of incomparable -magnificence. Their robes were in the main of white, but the skirts were -decked with the richest of woolen embroideries, heavy and thick, -extending for several inches upward from the lower hem, in a profusion -of rich reds, blues, and browns. Aprons similarly adorned were worn -above. Most impressive of all, however, were the sleeveless overgarments -or coats, such as we had seen and bickered over in Shoe Lane,—coats of -white stuff, bordered with a deep red facing and overlaid with intricate -tracery in gold lace and gold braid. These were infinitely finer than -any we had seen in the Athens shops, and they made the scene gay indeed -with a barbaric splendor. To add to the gorgeousness of the display, the -girls wore flat caps, bordered with gold lace and coins, giving the -effect of crowns, flowing veils which did not conceal the face but fell -over the shoulders, and on their breasts many displayed a store of gold -and silver coins arranged as bangles—their dowries, it was explained. -Most of these young women were betrothed, it developed, and custom -dictated this parade of the marriage portion, which is no small part of -the Greek wedding arrangement. The cuffs of the full white sleeves were -embroidered like the aprons and skirt bottoms, and the whole effect was -such as to be impossible of adequate description. - -[Illustration: PEASANT DANCERS AT MENIDI] - -One comely damsel, whose friends clamored us to photograph her, -scampered nimbly into her courtyard, only to be dragged forth bodily by -a proud young swain, who announced himself her betrothed and who -insisted that she pose for the picture, willy-nilly,—which she did, -joining amiably in the general hilarity, and exacting a promise of a -print when the picture should be finished. The ice once broken, the -entire peasant population became seized with a desire to be -photographed, and it was only the beginning of the great dance that -dissolved the clamoring throng. - -The dance was held on a broad level space, just east of the town, about -which a crowd had already gathered. We were escorted thither and duly -presented to the demarch, or mayor, who bestowed upon us the freedom of -the city and the hospitality of his own home if we required it. He was a -handsome man, dressed in a black cut-away coat and other garments of a -decidedly civilized nature, which seemed curiously incongruous in those -surroundings, as indeed did his own face, which was pronouncedly -Hibernian and won for him the sobriquet of "O'Sullivan" on the spot. His -stay with us was brief, for the dance was to begin, and nothing would do -but the mayor should lead the first two rounds. This he did with much -grace, though we were told that he did not relish the task, and only did -it because if he balked the votes at the next election would go to some -other aspirant. The dance was simple enough, being a mere solemn -circling around of a long procession of those gorgeous maidens, -numbering perhaps a hundred or more, hand in hand and keeping time to -the music of a quaint band composed of drum, clarionet, and a sort of -penny whistle. The demarch danced best of all, and after two stately -rounds of the green inclosure left the circle and watched the show at -his leisure, his face beaming with the sweet consciousness of political -security and duty faithfully performed. - -How long the dance went on we never knew. The evening was to be marked -by a display of fireworks, the frames for which were already in evidence -and betokened a magnificence in keeping with the costumes of the -celebrants. For ourselves, satiated with the display, we returned to our -carriage laden with flowers, pistachio nuts, and strings of beads -bestowed by the abundant local hospitality, and bowled home across the -plain in time to be rewarded with a fine sunset glow on the Parthenon as -a fitting close for a most unusual and enjoyable day. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - - - - CHAPTER VIII. DELPHI - -[Illustration] - - -The pilgrimage to Delphi, which used to be fraught with considerable -hardship and inconvenience, is happily so no longer. It is still true -that the Greek steamers plying between the Piræus and Itea, the port -nearest the ancient oracular shrine, leave much to be desired and are by -no means to be depended upon to keep to their schedules; but aside from -this minor difficulty there is nothing to hinder the ordinary visitor -from making the journey, which is far and away the best of all ordinary -short rambles in Greece, not only because of the great celebrity of the -site itself, but because of the imposing scenic attractions Delphi has -to show. The old-time drawback, the lack of decent accommodation at -Delphi itself, or to be more exact, at the modern village of Kastri, has -been removed by the presence of two inns, of rather limited capacity, it -is true, but still affording very tolerable lodging. Indeed, hearsay -reported the newer of these tiny hostelries to be one of the best in -Greece outside of Athens, while the other quaint resort, owned and -operated by the amiable Vasili Paraskevas, one of the “local characters” -of the place, has long been esteemed by Hellenic visitors. Vasili, in -appearance almost as formidable as the ancient Polyphemus, but in all -else as gentle as the sucking dove, has felt the force of competition, -and his advertisements easily rival those of the Hotel Cecil. As a -matter of fact, the establishment is delightfully primitive, seemingly -hanging precariously to the very edge of the deep ravine that lies just -under lofty Delphi, boasting several small rooms and even the promise of -a bath-tub, although Vasili was forced to admit that his advertisement -in that respect was purely prospective and indicative of intention -rather than actuality. - -The truly adventurous may still approach Delphi over the ancient road by -land from the eastward, doubtless the same highway that was taken by old -King Laios when he was slain on his way to the oracle, all unwitting of -the kinship, by his own son [OE]dipus,—possibly because of a dispute as -to which should yield the road. For the old road was a narrow one, with -deep ruts, suitable for a single chariot, but productive of frequent -broils when two such haughty spirits met on the way. To come to Delphi -over this road and to depart by sea is doubtless the ideal plan. That we -elected not to take the land voyage was due to the early spring season, -with its snows on the shoulder of Parnassus, around which the path -winds. For those less hindered by the season, it is said that the -journey overland from Livadià to Delphi, passing through the tiny hamlet -of Arákhova and possibly spending a night in the open air on Parnassus, -is well worth the trouble, and justifies the expense of a courier and -horses, both of which are necessary. - -The way which we chose, besides being infinitely easier, is far from -being devoid of its interesting features. We set sail in the early -afternoon from the Piræus, passing over a glassy sea by Psyttalea, and -the famous waters in front of Salamis, to Corinth, where the canal -proved sufficiently wide to let our little craft steam through to the -gulf beyond. It was in the gathering dusk that we entered this unusual -channel, but still it was light enough to see the entire length of the -canal, along the deep sides of which electric lamps glimmered few and -faint as a rather ineffectual illuminant of the tow-path on either hand. -The walls towered above, something like two hundred feet in spots, and -never very low, making this four-mile ribbon of water between the narrow -seas a gloomy cavern indeed. It was wide enough for only one craft of -the size of our own, therein resembling the land highway to Delphi; but -fortunately, owing to the system of semaphore signals, no [OE]dipus -disputed the road with us, and we shot swiftly through the channel, -between its towering walls of rock, under the spidery railroad bridge -that spans it near the Corinth end, and out into the gulf beyond. It is -rather a nice job of steering, this passage of the canal. Everybody was -ordered off the bow, three men stood nervously at the wheel, and the -jack staff was kept centred on the bright line that distantly marked the -opening between the precipitous sides of the cleft, a line of light that -gradually widened, revealing another sea and a different land as we drew -near and looked out of our straight and narrow path of water into the -Corinthian Gulf beyond. The magnificence of the prospect would be hard -indeed to exaggerate. On either side of the narrow gulf rose billowy -mountains, the northern line of summits dominated by the snowy dome of -Parnassus, the southern by Cyllene, likewise covered with white. They -were ghostly in the darkness, which the moon relieved only a little, -shining fitfully from an overcast sky. The Corinthian Gulf is fine -enough from the railway which skirts it all the way to Patras, but it is -finer far from the sea, whence one sees both sides at once in all the -glory of their steep gray mountains. Happily the night was calm, and the -gulf, which can be as bad as the English Channel at its worst, was -smooth for once as we swung away from the little harbor of modern -Corinth and laid our course for the capes off Itea, something like forty -miles away. And thus we went to rest, the steamer plowing steadily on -through the night with Parnassus towering on the starboard quarter. - -A vigorous blowing of the whistle roused the ship’s company at dawn. The -vessel was at anchor off Itea, a starveling village not at all praised -by those who have been forced to sample its meagre accommodations for a -night. Fortunately it is no longer necessary to rely on these, for one -may drive to Delphi in a few hours, and on a moonlight night the ride, -while chilly, is said to be most delightful. Arriving as we did at early -dawn, we were deprived of this experience, and set out from the village -at once on landing to cover the nine miles to Kastri, some riding in -carriages or spring carts,—locally called "sustas,"—some on mules, and -others proceeding on foot. From afar we could already see the village, -perched high on the side of the foothills of Parnassus, which rise -abruptly some three miles away across a level plain. The plain proved to -be delightful. Walled in on either hand by rocky cliffs, its whole -bottom was filled with olive trees, through which vast grove the road -wound leisurely along. Brooks babbled by through the grass of the great -orchard, and the green of the herbage was spangled with innumerable -anemones and other wild-flowers in a profusion of color. Far behind us -in the background towered the Peloponnesian mountains, and before rose -the forbidding cliffs that shut in Delphi. Above the distant Kastri, -there was always the lofty summit of Parnassus, somewhat dwarfed by -proximity and therefore a trifle disappointing to one whose preconceived -notions of that classic mountain demanded splendid isolation, but still -impressive. - -[Illustration: THE PLAIN BELOW DELPHI] - -Naturally on this long, level plain the carriages soon passed us, and -disappeared in the hills ahead, while the footpath left the highway and -plunged off boldly into the olive grove in the general direction of -Delphi. When it attained the base of the sharp ascent of the -mountain-side, it went straight up, leaving the road to find its more -gradual way by zigzags and détours,—windings so long that it soon -developed that the carriages which so long ago had distanced us were in -turn displaced and were later seen toiling up the steep behind us! The -prospect rearward was increasingly lovely as we climbed and looked down -upon the plain. It resembled nothing so much as a sea of verdure, the -olive trees pouring into it from the uplands like a river, and filling -it from bank to bank. No wonder this plain was deemed a ground worth -fighting for by the ancients. - -Despite the fact that the snows of Parnassus were apparently so near, -the climb was warm. The rocky hillside gave back the heat of the April -sun, although it was cloudy, and progress became necessarily slow, in -part because of the warmth and in larger part because of the increasing -splendor of the view. The path bore always easterly into a narrow gorge -between two massive mountains, a gorge that narrowed and narrowed as the -climb proceeded. Before very long we passed through a wayside hamlet -that lies halfway up the road, exchanged greetings with the inhabitants, -who proved a friendly people anxious to set us right on the way to -Delphi, and speedily emerged from the nest of buildings on the path -again, with Kastri always ahead and above, and seemingly as distant as -ever. It was Palm Sunday, we discovered, and the populace of the tiny -village all bore sprigs of greenery, which they pressed upon us and -which later turned out to be more political than religious in their -significance, since it was not only the day of the Lord’s triumphal -entry but the closing day of the general elections as well. - -Admiration for the green and fertile valley far behind now gave place to -awe at the grim gorges before and the beetling cliffs towering overhead, -up through which, like dark chimney flues, ran deep clefts in the rock, -gloomy and mysterious, and doubtless potent in producing awe in the -ancient mind by thus adding to the impressiveness of god-haunted Delphi. -On the left the mountain rose abruptly and loftily to the blue; on the -right the cliff descended sharply from the path to the dark depths of -the ravine, while close on its other side rose again a neighboring -mountain that inclosed this ever-narrowing gulch. - -At last after a three-hour scramble over the rocks we attained Kastri, -and found it a poor town lined with hovels, but, like Mount Zion, -beautiful for situation. A brawling brook, fed by a spring above, dashed -across the single street and lost itself in the depths of the ravine -below. On either hand towered the steep sides of the surrounding cliffs, -while before us the valley wound around a shoulder of the mountain and -seemingly closed completely. Kastri did not always occupy this site, but -once stood farther along around the mountain’s sharp corner, directly -over the ancient shrine itself; and it was necessary for the French -excavators who laid bare the ancient sites to have the village moved -bodily by force and arms before any work could be done,—a task that was -accomplished with no little difficulty, but which, when completed, -enabled the exploration of what was once the most famous of all Pagan -religious shrines. Curiously enough the restoration of the temples at -Delphi fell to the hands of the French, the descendants of those very -Gauls who, centuries before, had laid waste the shrines and treasuries -of Loxias. We stopped long enough at Vasili’s to sample some -"mastika,"—a native liqueur resembling anisette, very refreshing on a -warm day,—and then walked on to the ruins which lie some few minutes’ -walk farther around the shoulder of the mountain. - -Nothing could well be more impressive than the prospect that opened out -as we came down to the famous site itself. No outlet of the great vale -was to be seen from this point, for the gorge winds about among the -crags which rise high above and drop far below to the base of the rocky -glen. Human habitation there is none. Kastri was now out of sight -behind. On the roadside and in the more gradual slopes of the ravine -below one might find olive trees, and here and there a plane. Beyond, -through the mysterious windings of the defile runs the road to Arakhova. -It was on this spot that Apollo had his most famous shrine, the abode of -his accredited priestesses gifted with prophecy; and no fitter -habitation for the oracle could have been found by the worshipers of old -time than this gloomy mountain glen where nature conspires with herself -to overawe mankind by her grandeur. - -The legend has it that Apollo, born as all the world knows in far-off -Delos, transferred his chief seat to Delphi just after his feat of -slaying the Python. He is said to have followed that exploit by leaping -into the sea, where he assumed the form of a huge dolphin (delphis), and -in this guise he directed the course of a passing Cretan ship to the -landing place at Itea, or Crissa. There, suddenly resuming his proper -shape of a beautiful youth he led the wondering crew of the vessel up -from the shore to the present site of Delphi, proclaimed himself the -god, and persuaded the sailors to remain there, build a temple and -become his priests, calling the spot “Delphi.” Tradition also asks us to -believe that there then existed on the spot a cavern, from which issued -vapors having a peculiar effect on the human mind, producing in those -who breathed them a stupor in which the victim raved, uttering words -which were supposed to be prophetic. Over this cave, if it existed, the -temple was erected; and therein the priestess, seated on a tripod where -she might inhale the vapors, gave out her answers to suppliants, which -answers the corps of priests later rendered into hexameter verses having -the semblance of sense, but generally so ambiguous as to admit of more -than one interpretation. All sorts of tales are told of the effect of -the mephitic gas on the pythoness—how she would writhe in uncontrollable -fury, how her hair would rise on her head as she poured forth her -unintelligible gibberish, and so forth; stories well calculated to -impress a credulous race “much given to religion” as St. Paul so sagely -observed. If there ever was any such cavern at all, it has disappeared, -possibly filled with the débris of the ruins or closed by earthquake. -Perhaps there never was any cave at all. In any event the wonders of the -Delphic oracle were undoubtedly explicable, as such phenomena nearly -always are, by perfectly natural facts. It has been pointed out that the -corps of priests, visited continually as they were by people from all -parts of the ancient world, were probably the best informed set of men -on earth, and the sum total of their knowledge thus gleaned so far -surpassed that of the ordinary mortal and so far exceeded the average -comprehension that what was perfectly natural was easily made to appear -miraculous. To the already awed suppliant, predisposed to belief and -impressed by the wonderful natural surroundings of the place, it was not -hard to pass off this world-wide information as inspired truth. Nor was -it a long step from this, especially for clever men such as the priests -seem to have been, to begin forecasting future events by basing shrewd -guesses on data already in hand—these guesses being received with full -faith by the worshiper as god-given prophecy. As an added safeguard the -priests often handed down their predictions in ambiguous form, as, for -example, in the famous answer sent to Cr[oe]sus, when he asked if he -should venture an expedition against Cyrus—“If Cr[oe]sus shall attack -Cyrus, he will destroy a great empire.” Such answers were of course -agreeable to the suppliant, for they admitted of flattering -interpretation; and it was only after trial that Cr[oe]sus discovered -that the “great empire” he was fated to destroy was his own. At other -times the guesses, not in ambiguous form, went sadly astray—as in the -case where the Pythian, after balancing probabilities and doubtless -assuming that the gods were always on the side of the heaviest -battalions, advised the Athenians not to hope to conquer the invading -Persians. This erroneous estimate was the natural one for informed -persons to make,—and it is highly probable that it was influenced in -part by presents from the Persian king, for such corruption of the -oracle was by no means unknown. In fact it led to the ultimate -discrediting of the oracle, and it was not long before the shrine ceased -to be revered as a fountain of good advice. Nevertheless for many -hundred years it was held in unparalleled veneration by the whole -ancient world. Pilgrims came and went. Cities and states maintained rich -treasuries there, on which was founded a considerable banking system. -Games in honor of Pythian Apollo were celebrated in the stadium which is -still to be seen high up on the mountain-side above the extensive ruins -of the sacred precinct. Temple after temple arose about the great main -shrine of the god. Even distant Cnidus erected a treasury, and -victorious powers set up trophy after trophy there for battles won by -land or sea—the politeness of the time preventing the mention of any -Hellenic victim by name. - -[Illustration: THE VALE OF DELPHI] - -All these remains have been patiently uncovered and laboriously -identified and labeled, with the assistance of the voluminous writings -of that patron saint of travelers, Pausanias. The work was done under -the direction of the erudite French school, and the visitor of to-day, -provided with the plan in his guide-book and aided by the numerous -guide-posts erected on the spot, will find his way about with much ease. -One of the buildings, the “treasury of the Athenians,” a small structure -about the size of the Niké Apteros temple, is being “restored” by the -excavators, but with rather doubtful success. Aside from this one -instance, the ruins are mainly reconstructible only in the imagination -from the visible ground-plans and from the fragments lying all about. In -the museum close by, however, some fractional restorations indoors serve -to give a very excellent idea of the appearance of at least two of the -ancient buildings. - -Space and the intended scope of this narrative alike forbid anything -like a detailed discussion of the numerous ruins that line the zigzag -course of the old “sacred way.” The visitor, thanks to the ability of -the French school, is left in no doubt as to the identity of the -buildings, and the wayfaring man, though no archæologist, need not err. -One may remark in passing, however, the curious polygonal wall of curved -stones still standing along a portion of the way and still bearing the -remnant of a colonnade, with an inscription indicating that once a -trophy was set up here by the Athenians,—possibly the beaks of conquered -ships. Of course the centre and soul of the whole precinct was the great -temple of Apollo, now absolutely flat in ruins, but once a grand edifice -indeed. The Alcmæonidæ, who had the contract for building it, surprised -and delighted everybody by building better than the terms of their -agreement demanded, providing marble ends for the temple and pedimental -adornment as well, when the letter of the contract would have been -satisfied with native stone. Thus shrewdly did a family that was in -temporary disfavor at Athens win its way back to esteem! - -However easy it may be to explain with some plausibility the ordinary -feats of the oracle at Delphi as accomplished by purely natural means, -there was an occasional _tour de force_ that even to-day would pass for -miraculous—supposing that there be any truth in the stories as -originally told. The most notable instance was one in which Cr[oe]sus -figured. That wealthy monarch was extremely partial to oracles, and -generally consulted them before any considerable undertaking. On the -occasion in question he contemplated an expedition against Cyrus—the -same which he eventually undertook because of the enigmatic answer -before referred to—and made extraordinary preparations to see that the -advice given him was trustworthy. For Cr[oe]sus, with all his credulity, -was inclined to be canny, and proposed to test the powers of the more -famous oracular shrines by a little experiment. So he sent different -persons, according to Herodotus, to the various oracles in Greece and -even in Libya, "some to Phocis, some to Dodona, others to Amphiaraus and -Trophonius, and others to Branchidæ of Milesia, and still others to -Ammon in Libya. He sent them in different ways, desiring to make trial -of what the oracle knew, in order that, if they should be found to know -the truth, he might send a second time to inquire whether he should -venture to make war on the Persians. He laid upon them the following -orders: That, computing the days from the time of their departure from -Sardis, they should consult the oracles on the hundredth day by asking -what Cr[oe]sus, the son of Alyattes, was then doing. They were to bring -back the answer in writing. Now what the answers were that were given by -the other oracles is mentioned by none; but no sooner had the Lydian -ambassadors entered the temple at Delphi and asked the question than the -Pythian spoke thus, in hexameter verse: 'I know the number of the sands -and the measure of the sea; I understand the dumb and hear him that does -not speak; the savor of the hard-shelled tortoise boiled in brass with -the flesh of lambs strikes on my senses; brass is laid beneath it and -brass is put over it.' Now of all the answers opened by Cr[oe]sus none -pleased him but only this. And when he had heard the answer from Delphi -he adored it and approved it, and was convinced that the pythoness of -Delphi was a real oracle because she alone had interpreted what he had -done. For when he sent out his messengers to the several oracles, -watching for the appointed day, he had recourse to the following -contrivance, having thought of what it was impossible to discover or -guess at. He cut up a tortoise and a lamb and boiled them himself -together in a brazen caldron, and laid over it a cover of brass."[1] - ------ - -Footnote 1: - - Herodotus, Book I, sections 46-48. - -Thus, on one occasion, the oracle is supposed to have performed a feat -of what we should now set down as telepathy, and which, if it really -happened, would be explicable in no other way. It sufficed to establish -Delphi as a shrine to be revered, in the mind of Cr[oe]sus, and to -propitiate the god he sent magnificent gifts. And as these may serve to -give some idea of the vast riches of the spot in bygone ages, it may be -well to relate here what Cr[oe]sus is supposed to have sent. Herodotus -relates that he made a prodigious sacrifice, in the flames of which he -melted down an incredible amount of gold and silver. "Out of the metal -thus melted down he cast half-bricks, of which the longest was six palms -in length, the shortest three; and in thickness, each was one palm. -Their number was one hundred and seventeen. Four of these, of pure gold, -weighed each two talents and a half. The other bricks, of pale gold, -weighed two talents each. He made also the figure of a lion, of fine -gold, weighing ten talents. This lion, when the temple at Delphi was -burned down, fell from its pedestal of half-bricks, for it was placed -upon them. It now lies in the treasury of the Corinthians, weighing only -six talents and a half,—for three talents and a half were melted from it -in the fire. Cr[oe]sus, having finished these things, sent them to -Delphi, and with them the following: two large bowls, one of gold and -one of silver. The golden one was placed on the right as one enters the -temple, and that of silver on the left; but they were removed when the -temple was burning, and the gold bowl was set in the treasury of the -Clazomenæ; while the silver one, which contains six hundred amphorae, -lies in a corner of the Propylæa, and is used for mixing wine on the -Theophanian festival. The Delians said it was the work of Theodorus the -Samian, which was probably true, for it was no common work. He sent also -four casks of silver, which also stand in the Corinthian treasury; and -he dedicated two lustral vases, one of gold and the other of silver. The -Spartans claim that the golden one was their offering, for it bears an -inscription, ‘From the Lacedæmonians;’ but this is wrong, for Cr[oe]sus -gave it. He sent many other offerings, among them some round silver -covers, and also a golden statue of a woman, three cubits high, which -the Delphians say is the image of Cr[oe]sus’s baking-woman. And to all -these things he added the necklaces and girdles of his wife."[2] - -Such is the account given by Herodotus of the gifts bestowed by the king -regarded as the richest of all the ancient monarchs. In return for his -gifts he got the answer that “if Cr[oe]sus shall make war on the -Persians he will destroy a mighty empire.” Cr[oe]sus was so delighted at -this that he sent more gifts, “giving to each of the inhabitants of -Delphi two staters of gold.” A further question as to how long he was -destined to rule elicited the response, “When a mule shall become king -of the Medes, then, tender-footed Lydian, flee over the pebbly Hermus; -nor delay, nor blush to be a coward.” There is even less of apparent -enigma about that statement; yet nevertheless Cr[oe]sus lived to see the -day when a man, whom he deemed a “mule,” did become ruler of the Medes, -and he likewise saw his own mighty empire destroyed. The case of -Cr[oe]sus is typical in many ways of the attitude of the ancients toward -the oracle,—their belief in it as inspired, and their frequent attempts -to predispose it to favor by gifts of great magnificence. Not everybody -could give such offerings as Cr[oe]sus, to be sure. But the presents -piled up in the buildings of the sacred precinct must have been of -enormous value, and the contemplation of them somewhat overpowering. By -the way, recent estimates have been published showing that the wealth of -Cr[oe]sus, measured by our modern standards, would total only about -$11,000,000. - ------ - -Footnote 2: - - Herodotus, Book I, sections 50-51. - -Doubtless the awe felt for the spot sufficed in the main to protect the -treasures from theft. When Xerxes came into Greece and approached the -shrine, the inhabitants proposed that the valuables be buried in the -earth. Ph[oe]bus, speaking through the priestess, forbade this, however, -saying that “he was able to protect his own.” And, in fact, he proved to -be so, for the approaching host were awed by the sight of the sacred -arms of the god, moved apparently by superhuman means from their armory -within the temple to the steps outside. And moreover while the invaders -were approaching along the vale below, where the temple of Athena -Pronoia still stands, a storm broke, and two great crags were dashed -from the overhanging cliffs above, killing some and demoralizing the -rest. A war shout was heard from the temple of Athena, and the Delians, -taking heart at these prodigies, swept down from the hills and destroyed -many of the fleeing Medes. - -The most successful attempt to prejudice and corrupt the oracle seems to -have been that of the Alcmæonidæ, who have been referred to as the -builders of the great temple after its destruction by fire. They had -been driven out of Athens by the Pisistratidæ, and during their exile -they contracted with the Amphictyons to rebuild the great shrine of -Apollo. That they imported Parian marble for the front of the edifice -when the contract would have been amply satisfied with Poros stone seems -to have been less a disinterested act than an effort to win the favor of -the god. The Athenians long maintained that the builders still further -persuaded the oracle by gifts of money to urge upon the Spartans the -liberation of Athens from the tyrants; and in the end the Pisistratidæ -were driven out, in obedience to this mandate, while the Alcmæonidæ came -back in triumph, as had been their design from the first. - -It was rather a relief at last to turn from the bewildering array of -ruins to the museum itself. It is not large, but it contains some -wonderfully interesting things, and chief of all, no doubt, the bronze -figure of the charioteer. I cannot bring myself to believe that he -surpasses the bronze “ephebus” at Athens, whom he instantly recalls both -from the material and from the treatment of the eyes; but he is -wonderful, nevertheless, as he stands slightly leaning backward as one -might in the act of driving, the remnants of a rein still visible in one -hand. His self-possession and rather aristocratic mien have often been -remarked, and a careful examination will reveal what is doubtless the -most curious thing about the whole statue—namely, the little fringe of -eye-lashes, which those who cast the image allowed to protrude around -the inlaid eye-ball. They might easily be overlooked by a casual -observer, but their effect is to add a subtle something that gives the -unusual naturalness to the eyes. One other statue, a marble replica of -an original bronze by Lysippus, deserves a word of comment also, because -it is held by good authorities to be a better example of the school of -Lysippus than the far better known “Apoxyomenos” in the Braccio Nuovo at -Rome. Each of the figures is the work of a pupil of Lysippus, but the -claim is made that the copy of a youth at Delphi was doubtless made by a -pupil working under the master’s own supervision, while the Apoxyomenos -was carved after Lysippus had died. From this it is natural enough to -infer that the Delphi example is a more faithful reproduction than the -Vatican’s familiar figure. In this museum also is a carved stone which -is known as the “omphalos,” because of its having marked the supposed -navel of the earth. The legend is that Zeus once let fly two eagles from -opposite sides of the world, bidding them fly toward one another with -equal wing. They met at Delphi, which therefore shares this form of -celebrity with Dodona in Epirus. - -[Illustration: CHARIOTEER—DELPHI] - -Of course we visited the Castalian spring, which still gushes forth from -a cleft in the rock, as it did in the days when suppliants came thither -first of all to purify themselves. After a long journey one is not loath -to rest beside this ancient fount after washing and drinking deep of its -unfailing supply, for the water is good and the chance to drink fresh -water in Greece is rare enough to be embraced wherever met. The cleft -from which the spring emerges is truly wonderful. It is narrow and dark -enough for a colossal chimney, running far back into the bowels of the -mountain heights behind. An old stone trough hewn out of the side of the -cliff was once filled by this spring, but the flow has now been diverted -and it runs off in a babbling stream over the pebbles. Not the least -inspiring thing at Delphi is to stand here and reflect, as one enjoys -the Castalian water, how many of the great in bygone ages stood on this -very spot and listened to the same murmur of this brook which goes on -forever. - -Hard by the spring, under two great plane trees that we fondly believed -were direct descendants of those planted on the spot by Agamemnon, we -sat down to lunch, a stone khan across the way affording shelter and -fire for our coffee. And in the afternoon we rambled among the ruins -below on the grassy slopes of the lower glen, where are to be seen a -ruined gymnasium, a temple of Athena Pronoia, and a fascinating circular -“tholos,” all of which, though sadly shattered, still present much -beauty of detail. If the site were devoid of every ruined temple it -would still be well worth a visit, not merely from the importance it -once enjoyed as Apollo’s chief sanctuary, but also for the grandeur and -impressiveness of its setting, so typical of Greece at her best. -Fortunate indeed are those who may tarry here awhile, now that local -lodging has been robbed of its ancient hardships. To-day, as in the days -of the priests, Delphi is in touch with the uttermost parts of the earth -by means of the telegraph, the incongruous wires of which accompany the -climber all the way from Itea, so that details of arrival, departure, or -stay may be arranged readily enough from afar. Long sojourn, however, -was not to be our portion, and we were forced to depart, though with -reluctant steps, down along the rough side of the mountain, through the -vast and silent olive groves, back into the world of men, to sordid Itea -and our ship. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER IX. MYCENÆ AND THE - PLAIN OF ARGOS - -[Illustration] - - -We journeyed down to Mycenæ from Athens by train. The moment the -railroad leaves Corinth it branches southward into the Peloponnesus and -into a country which, for legendary interest, has few equals in the -world. Old Corinth herself, mother of colonies, might claim a preëminent -interest from the purely historical point of view, but she must forever -subordinate herself to the half-mythical charm that surrounds ruined and -desolate Mycenæ, the famous capital of Atreus and his two celebrated -sons, Menelaus and Agamemnon. As for Corinth herself, the ancient site -has lately been explored under the auspices of the American school at -Athens, and these excavations, with the steep climb to the isolated and -lofty Acrocorinth, furnish the attractions of the place to-day. The -train runs fairly close to the mountain, so that even from the car -window the fortifications on its top may be distinguished; but evidently -they are Venetian battlements rather than old Greek remains that are -thus visible. As a purely natural phenomenon the Acrocorinth is -immensely impressive, resembling not a little the Messenian Acropolis at -Ithome. It is a precipitous rock, high enough to deserve the name of a -mountain, and sufficiently isolated to be a conspicuous feature of the -landscape for miles as you approach Corinth from the sea or from Athens -by train. Circumstances have never permitted us to ascend it, but the -view from the summit over the tumbling surface of the mountainous -Peloponnesus is said to be indescribably fine, giving the same effect as -that produced by a relief map, while the prospect northward across the -Gulf of Corinth is of course no less magnificent. - -Fate ordained that we should stick to the line of the railway and -proceed directly to the site of Mycenæ, in which interest had been -whetted by the remarkable display of Mycenæan relics in the museum at -Athens, as well as by the consciousness that we were about to visit the -home of the conqueror of Troy and of his murderous queen. The train did -some steep climbing as it rounded the shoulder of the Acrocorinth, and -for two hours or so it was a steady up-grade, winding around long -valleys in spacious curves, the old road from Sparta generally visible -below. At every station the mail car threw off bundles of newspapers, -which the crowds gathered on the platform instantly snatched and -purchased with avidity. The love of news is by no means confined to -Athenians, but has spread to their countrymen; and every morning the -same scene is enacted at every railroad station in Hellas on the arrival -of the Athens train. At every stop the air was vocal with demands for -this or that morning daily, and each, having secured the journal of his -choice, retired precipitately to the shade of a near-by tree, while -those who could not read gathered near and heard the news of the world -retailed by the more learned, at second-hand. The peasant costumes were -most interesting, for we were now in the country of the shepherds, far -from the madding crowd and dressed for work. The dress of each was -substantially the same,—a heavy capote of wool, if it was at all chilly, -the tight drawers gartered below the knee, the heavy leather wallet on -the front of the belt, the curious tufted shoes whose pompons at the -toe, if large denoted newly bought gear, or if sheared small meant that -the footwear was old. For the custom is to cut down these odd bits of -adornment as they become frayed, a process that is repeated until the -tuft is entirely removed, when it is time to buy new shoes. - -The landscape was most striking now. The plains were small and separated -from one another by walls of rugged hills, whose barriers were not to be -despised in days when communication was primitive and slow, and which -bore an important part in keeping the several ancient states so long -apart, instead of allowing them permanently to unite. The neighboring -peaks began to be increasingly redolent of mythology, chiefly relating -to various heroic exploits of Herakles. Indeed the train stopped at -Nemea itself, and the site of the struggle with the Nemean lion was -indicated to us from afar, while a distant summit was said to be near -the lake where were slain the Stymphalian birds. Shortly beyond the -grade began to drop sharply, until, rushing through a pass of incredible -narrowness,—the site of a bloody modern battle between the Greek -patriots and the Turks,—the train dashed out into the broad plain of -Argos, once famous as the breeder of horses. The narrow and rather -sterile valleys hemmed in by bare hills of gray rock gave place to this -immense level tract of sandy soil leading down to the sea, which gleamed -in the distance under the noonday sun. On either side of the broad -expanse of plain towered the mountain wall, always gray and bare of -trees, though in the old days it was doubtless well wooded. With the -departure of trees came the drouth, and to-day the rivers of the Argolid -are mere sandy channels, devoid of water save in the season of the -melting mountain snows. - -The train halted at Phychtia, the station for Mycenæ, and there we found -waiting a respectable carriage that had seen better days in some city, -but which was now relegated to the task of conveying the curious to -various points in the Argolic plain. It was there in response to the -inevitable telegraph, which we had the forethought to employ. Otherwise -we should have had to go over to the site of Mycenæ on foot, a task -which the heat of the day rather than the distance would have made -arduous. Mycenæ to-day is absolutely deserted and desolate, lying -perhaps two miles eastward from the railway, on the spurs of two -imposing mountain peaks. Toward this point the road rises steadily, and -before long we had passed through a starveling village of peasant huts -and came suddenly upon a two-story structure bearing the portentous -sign, “Grand Hotel of Helen and Menelaus!” To outward view it was in -keeping with the rest of the hamlet, which was chiefly remarkable for -its children and dogs. It proved, on closer inspection, to be a queer -little inn, boasting a few sleeping rooms in its upper story, to be -reached only by an outside stairway. On the ground floor—which was a -ground floor in the most literal sense of that overworked expression—was -a broad room, used partly as a dining-room and partly as a store and -office. The actual eating-place was separated from the remainder of the -apartment by a grill-work of laths, or pickets, with a wicket gate, -through which not only the guests and the proprietor, but sundry dogs, -chickens, and cats passed from the main hall to the table. This, being -the only available hotel in the region, and bearing so resounding and -sonorous a title, proved irresistible. Lunch, consisting of very -excellent broiled chickens, and sundry modest concomitants, was promptly -served by a tall slip of a girl, the daughter of the house, and probably -named Helen, too. During the meal various hens, perhaps the ancestors of -our _pièces de résistance_, clucked contentedly in and out, and a -mournful hound sneaked repeatedly through the gate, only to be as -repeatedly thrust into the outer darkness of the office by the cook and -waitress. In former times, before the “Grand Hotel of Helen and -Menelaus” sprang into being, it was necessary to carry one’s food and -eat it under the shadow of the famous Lion Gate on the site of the old -town itself—a place replete with thrills. Nevertheless it seems well -that the vicinity now has a place of public entertainment, and doubly -well that it has been so sonorously named. - -It may not have been more than half a mile farther to the ruins, but it -was up hill and very warm work reaching them. On either side of the high -road, where presumably once lay the real every-day city of Mycenæ, there -was little in the way of remains to be seen, save for the remarkable -avenue leading to the subterranean tomb, or treasury, of which it will -be best to speak somewhat later. The slopes were covered with grass, and -here and there a trace of very old “Cyclopean” masonry was all that -remained to bear witness to the previous existence of a city wall, or -possibly an ancient highway with a primitive arch-bridge spanning a -gully. Back over the plain the view was expansive. The several -strongholds of Agamemnon’s kingdom were all in sight,—Mycenæ, Nauplia, -Argos, and Tiryns,—at the corners of the great plain, which one might -ride all around in a day; so that from his chief stronghold on the -height at Mycenæ Agamemnon might well claim to be monarch of all he -surveyed. Behind the valley, the twin peaks at whose base the stronghold -lay rose abruptly, bearing no trace of the forests of oak that once -covered them; and on a rocky foothill stood the acropolis of the city, -admirably fitted by nature for defense. It was on this high ground that -the ruins were found, and the visitor is informed that this was the -citadel rather than the main town—the place to which the beleaguered -inhabitants might flock for safety in time of war, and in which Atreus -and his line had their palace. It was here that Dr. Schliemann conducted -his remarkable researches, of which we shall have much to say. It is a -remarkable fact that the events of the past twenty years or so have -given a most astonishing insight into the dimness of the so-called -“heroic” age—the age that long after was sung by Homer—so that it is -actually possible now to say that we know more of the daily life and -conditions of the time of Troy’s besiegers than we do of the time of -Homer himself, and more about the heroes than about those who sang their -exploits. Knowledge of the more remote periods seems to vary directly -with the distance. The dark ages, as has been sagely remarked, were too -dark altogether to admit men to read the story told by the ancient -monuments such as survived at Mycenæ, and it is only lately that light -has increased sufficiently to enable them to be understood with such -clearness that the dead past has suddenly seemed to live again. From the -remains at Mycenæ the savants have unearthed the houses, walls, palaces, -reservoirs, ornaments, weapons, and daily utensils of the pre-Homeric -age. Bones and other relics cast aside in rubbish heaps give an idea of -the daily food of the people. The tombs have revealed how they were -buried at death, and have yielded a wealth of gold ornaments showing a -marvelous skill in working metals. - -This upper city of Mycenæ was built on a rock, which we soon discovered -to be separated from the rest of the mountain by ravines, leaving the -sides very steep and smooth, so that on nearly every hand the place was -inaccessible. The gorges toward the mountains were natural moats, and -wide enough to prevent assault or even the effective hurling of missiles -from above into the citadel. The stronghold, however, was vastly -strengthened by artificial construction and proved to be walled entirely -about, the fortress being especially strong on the more exposed -portions, and most especially at the main gate, where the enormous -blocks of stone and the tremendous thickness of the wall were most in -evidence. The road winds up the last steep ascent until it becomes a -mere narrow driveway, scarcely wide enough for more than a single -chariot, and right ahead appears suddenly the famed Lion Gate, flanked -on one hand by a formidable wall facing the side of the native rock, and -on the other by a projecting bastion of almost incredible thickness. The -stones are of remarkable size, hewn to a sort of rough regularity by the -Cyclopean builders, and the wonder is that, in so rude and primitive an -age, men were able to handle such great blocks with such skill. No -wonder the tale gained currency that it was the work of the Cyclopes, -imported from abroad—and indeed the tale is not without its abiding -plausibility, since there are evidences enough in scattered Ph[oe]nician -sites elsewhere to warrant the assumption that the builders of these -numerous fortresses in Argolis did come from over seas. - -Of all the ruins at Mycenæ the “gate of the lions” is unquestionably the -most impressive. It spans the end of the long and narrow vestibule -between the walls of rock, its jambs made of huge upright stones that -even to-day show the slots cut for hinges and the deep holes into which -were shot the ancient bolts. Over the top is another massive single -stone, forming the lintel. It is a peculiarity of the Cyclopean doorways -at Mycenæ that the weight on the centre of the lintel is almost -invariably lightened by leaving a triangular aperture in the stonework -above, and in the main gate the immense blocks of the wall were so -disposed as to leave such an opening. Even the massive lintel of this -broad gate would probably have failed to support the pressure of the -walls had not some such expedient been devised. As it is, the light -stone slab that was used to fill the triangular opening is still in -place, and it is what gives the name to the gateway, from the rudely -sculptured lions that grace it. These two lions, minus their heads, are -sitting facing each other—“heraldically opposed,” as the phrase is—each -with his fore feet resting on the base of an altar bearing a sculptured -column, which marks the centre of the slab. The column is represented as -larger at the top than at the base, a peculiarity of the stone columns -of the Mycenæan age, and recalling the fact that the first stone pillars -were faithful copies of the sharpened stakes that had been used as -supports in a still earlier day. The missing heads of the lions were -doubtless of metal,—bronze, perhaps,—and were placed so as to seem to be -gazing down the road. They are gone, nobody knows whither. It used to be -stated that this quaint bas-relief was the “oldest sculpture in Europe,” -but this is another of the comfortable delusions that modern science has -destroyed. Nobody, however, can deny that the Gate of the Lions is -vastly impressive, or that it is so old that we may, without serious -error, feel that we are looking on something that Agamemnon himself -perhaps saw over his shoulder as he set out for Troy. Just inside the -gate we found a narrow opening in the stones, leading to a sort of -subterranean chamber, presumably for the sentry. The impression produced -by the gate and its massive flanking walls is that of absolute -impregnability, and it was easy enough to fancy the Argive javelin-men -thronging the bastion above and pouring death and destruction down upon -the exposed right hands of the invaders jammed tight in the constricted -vestibule below. - -Inside the gate, the old market-place opens out, and it was here that -were discovered the tombs from which came the numerous relics seen at -Athens. The market place is still encircled by a curious elliptical -structure, which is in effect a double ring of flat stones, with slabs -laid flat across the top, forming what looks like a sort of oval bench -all around the inclosure. We were asked to believe that these actually -were seats to be occupied by the old men and councilors of the city; but -if that is the truth, there were indeed giants in the land in those -times. Other authorities conjecture that it was a retaining wall for a -sort of mound heaped up over the graves within—an hypothesis which it -seems almost as hard to adopt. Whatever the purpose of this remarkable -circle of stone slabs, it is hardly to be doubted that it did once -inclose an “agora,” and it was within this space that Schliemann sunk -his shafts and brought up so much that was wonderful from the tombs -below. Tombs in so central a spot, and filled with such a plethora of -gold, certainly might well be deemed to have been the last resting-place -of royalty, and it is agreeable to believe that they were sovereigns of -the Agamemnonian line, if the “prince of men” himself be not one of -them. It is the fashion to aver that Schliemann was too ready to jump at -conclusions prompted by his own fond hopes and preconceived ideas, and -to make little of his claim that he had unearthed the grave of the -famous warrior who overcame Priam’s city; and perhaps this is justified. -But one cannot forget that the old legend insisted that Atreus, -Agamemnon, Cassandra, Electra, Eurymedon, and several others were buried -in the market place of Mycenæ,—which was doubtless what prompted the -excavation at this point; excavations which moreover proved to be so -prolific of royal reward. - -[Illustration: AGORA—MYCENÆ] - -On the heights above, where it was far too steep for chariots to follow, -there is a pathway direct to the royal palace itself, which it will -doubtless do no harm to call Agamemnon’s. Of course it is practically -flat to-day, with little more than traces of the foundation, save for a -bit of pavement here and there, or a fragment of wall on which possibly -one may detect a faint surviving touch of fresco. All around the citadel -below are traces of other habitations, so congested as to preclude any -application of Homer’s epithet, “Mycenæ of the broad streets,” to this -particular section of the city. All around the summit ran the wall, even -at points where it would seem no wall was necessary. As we explored the -site the guide kept gathering handfuls of herbage that grew all about, -and speedily led us to a curious Cyclopean “arch,” made by allowing two -sloping stones to fall toward each other at the top of an approaching -row of wall-blocks, which it developed was the entrance to a -subterranean gallery that led down to the reservoir of the fort. It was -a dark and tortuous place, and its descent to the bowels of the hill was -quite abrupt, so that we did not venture very far, but allowed the guide -to creep gingerly down until he was far below; whereupon he set fire to -the grasses he had been accumulating and lighted up this interior -gallery for us. The walls of this passageway had been polished smooth -for centuries by passing goats which had rubbed against the stone, and -it gleamed and glittered in the firelight, revealing a long tunnel -leading downward and out of sight to a cavern far below, where was once -stored the water supply conveyed thither from a spring north of the -citadel. Stones cast down the tunnel reverberated for a long distance -along its slippery floor, and at last apparently came against a final -obstacle with a crash. Then came the upward rush of smoke from the -impromptu torch, and we were forced hastily to scramble out into the -open air. We returned later, however, for a passing shower swept down -from the mountains and threatened a drenching, which rendered the -shelter of the ancient aqueduct welcome indeed. It was soon over, -however, and afforded us a chance to sit on the topmost rock of the -acropolis, looking down over what was once the most important of the -Greek kingdoms, from the mountains on the north and west down to the -sea—a pleasing sight, which was cut short only by the reflection that we -had still to visit the so-called “treasury of Atreus” beside the road -below. - -This is one more of the odd structures of the place over which -controversy has raged long and fiercely, the problem being whether or -not it was a tomb. There are a number of these underground chambers near -by, but the most celebrated one just mentioned is the common type and is -completely excavated so that it is easily to be explored. The approach -is by a long cut in the hillside, walled on both sides with well-hewn -stone, the avenue terminating only when a sufficient depth had been -reached to excavate a lofty subterranean chamber. A tall and narrow door -stands at the end of this curious lane, placed against the hill, its -lintel made of a noticeably massive flat stone, with the inevitable -triangular opening over it; but in this case the block which presumably -once closed it is gone, and nobody knows whether it, like its mate at -the main gateway, bore sculptured lions or not. Within, the tomb is -shaped like an old-fashioned straw beehive, lined throughout with stone, -which bears marks indicating that it in turn was once faced with bronze -plates. It is a huge place, in which the voice echoes strangely, and it -is lighted only from the door and its triangular opening above. Just off -the northern side is a smaller chamber, where light is only to be had by -lighting some more of the dry grasses gathered without. Those who adhere -to the idea that this was a tomb maintain that the real sepulchre was in -the smaller adjoining chamber. Respectable authority exists, however, -for saying that these chambers were not tombs at all, but treasuries, -and a vast amount of controversial literature exists on the subject, -over which one may pore at his leisure if he desires. If it was a tomb, -it is obvious from the other burial-place discovered on the acropolis -above that there must have been at least two different styles of -burial,—and the tombs above appear to have contained people of -consequence, such as might be expected to have as honorable and imposing -sepulchres as there were. No bones were found in the “treasury of -Atreus,” and plenty of bones were found elsewhere, a fact which might -seem significant and indeed conclusive if it were not known that bones -had been found in beehive tombs like this elsewhere in Greece, notably -near Menidi, where six skeletons were discovered in a similar structure. -Of course it might be true that the bodies found on the heights at -Mycenæ and taken to Athens belonged to an entirely different epoch from -those that were buried in the beehive tombs, and that the beehive tombs -might easily have been looted long before the existence of any such -booty as the marketplace graves yielded had even been suspected. The -layman is therefore left to suit himself, whether he will call this -underground chamber a tomb or a treasury, and devote his time to -admiring the ingenuity with which the stone lining of the place was -built, each tier of stone slightly projecting above its lower fellow so -as at last to converge at the top in a point. The perfection of this -subterranean treasure-house seems no less remarkable than the ease with -which the ancient builders managed large masses of rock. - -As for the history of Mycenæ, its greatest celebrity is unquestionably -that which it achieved in the time of the Atreidai, when it was the home -of the kings of Argos. It is supposable that in the palace on the height -Clytæmnestra spent the ten years of her lord’s absence at Troy, and that -therein she murdered him on his return. The poets have woven a great web -of song and story about the place, largely imaginative and legendary, to -be sure. But the revelations of the later excavations have revealed that -the poets came exceedingly close to fact in their descriptions of -material things. The benches before the doors, the weapons and shields -of heroes, the cups,—such as Nestor used, for example,—all these find -their counterparts in the recently discovered actualities and give the -more color to the events that the ancient writers describe. That Mycenæ -was practically abandoned soon after her great eminence doubtless -accounts for the wealth of relics that the excavators found, and her low -estate during the centuries of neglect curiously but not unnaturally -insured her return to celebrity, with a vast volume of most interesting -testimony to her former greatness quite unimpaired. - -From Mycenæ down to the Argive Heræum, the ancient temple of Hera which -was once the chief shrine of this region, is something like two miles; -but as it was over a rough ground, and as time failed us, it was found -necessary to eliminate this, which to a strenuous archæologist might -doubtless prove highly interesting as an excursion, and more especially -so to Americans, since it was a site explored by the American school. It -lies off on the hills that border the plain of Argos on the east, on the -direct line between Mycenæ and Nauplia. Our own road led us back to -Phychtia again and down the centre of the plain over a very good -carriage road, passing through broad fields of waving grain, in the -midst of which, breast deep, stood occasional horses contentedly -munching without restraint. Almost the only buildings were isolated -stone windmills, some still in use and others dismantled. At last the -road plunged down a bank and into the sandy bed of what was doubtless at -some time of year a river,—but at this season, and probably most of the -year as well, a mere broad flat expanse of sand as destitute of water as -the most arid part of Sahara. The railroad, which had borne us friendly -company for a few miles, was provided with an iron bridge, spanning this -broad desert with as much gravity as if it were a raging torrent, which -doubtless it sometimes is. Just beyond we rattled into Argos. - -Argos is a rather large place, but decidedly unattractive save for its -many little gardens. Nearly every house had them, and from our high -seats in the respectable but superannuated depot carriage we were able -to look into the depths of many such, to marvel at their riot of roses -and greenery. As for the houses, they were little and not over-clean. -The populace, however, was exceeding friendly, sitting _en masse_ along -the highway, the young women blithely saluting and the children -bombarding us with nosegays in the hope of leptà. Over Argos towers a -steep hill, known as a “larisa” or acropolis, from the top of which we -could imagine a wonderful view over the whole kingdom of the Argives and -over the mountains as well, not to mention the Gulf of Nauplia; but as -time was speeding on toward the dusk and we were still far from Nauplia, -we had to be content with the imagination alone, and with the news that -a little monastery about halfway up the hillside had been set on fire on -the Easter Sunday previous by too enthusiastic celebrants, who had been -over-free with the inevitable rockets and Roman candles. Also we had to -give short shrift to the vast theatre, hewn out of the solid rock at the -foot of the larisa, and said to be one of the largest in Greece. It was -sadly grass-grown, however, and infinitely less attractive than the -smallest at Athens, not to mention the splendid playhouse at Epidaurus, -which we promised ourselves for the morrow. So we were not reluctant to -swing away from old Argos, with her shouting villagers and high-walled -gardens, and to skirt the harbor, now close at hand along the dusty -Nauplia road. Across the dancing waters lay Nauplia herself, a white -patch at the foot of a prodigious cliff far around the bay. By the -roadside the country seaward was marshy, while inland rolled the great -plain back to the gray hills which showed the northern bounds of the old -kingdom, and the lofty rock of Mycenæ from which the sons of Atreus had -looked down over their broad acres. - -It was not long before we were aware that “well-walled” Tiryns was at -hand and that we were not to close a day already well marked by memories -of Cyclopean masonry without adding thereto the most stupendous of all, -the memory of the great stones piled up in prehistoric ages at this -ancient palace whose size impressed even that hardened sight-seer -Pausanias. Tiryns proved to be a highly interesting place; in general -appearance much like Mycenæ, but in detail sufficiently different to -keep us exclaiming. It lies on what is little more than an isolated -hillock beside the highroad, and there is nothing imposing about its -height or length. It is a long, low rock, devoid of any building save -for the solid retaining walls that may go back to the days of Herakles -himself. - -Whoever built the fortress at Tiryns had seen fit to make the front door -face the plain rather than the sea; so that it was necessary to leave -the road and go around to the north side of the rock, where a gradual -incline afforded an easy approach to a sort of ramp, or terrace, -defended by walls of the most astonishing Cyclopean construction. It has -been stated that these great and rudely squared blocks of native rock, -taken from the quarries in the hills northward, were once bonded -together with a rude clay mortar, which has since entirely disappeared. -How such enormous blocks were quarried in those primitive days, or how -they were handled, is a good deal of a mystery. But it is claimed that -swelled wedges of wet wood were used to separate the stones from their -native bed. - -As a ruin, Tiryns is rather difficult to reconstruct in the imagination -from the visible remains. The inclined ramp and the gateway, remains of -which are still standing, are interesting, but chiefly from the -remarkable size of the stones employed in their construction. Within, -the old palace is in a state of complete and comprehensive ruin. The -lines of the former palace walls may, however, be seen on the rocky -floor, with here and there a trace of an ancient column which has left -its mark on the foundation rock. The outer and inner courts, megaron, -men’s and women’s apartments, and even the remnants of a “bathroom” are -to be made out, the last-named bearing testimony to the fact that even -in the remote Mycenæan age the disposition of waste water was carefully -looked to—perhaps more carefully than was the case with the later -Greeks. The Tirynthian feature which eclipses everything else for -interest, however, is the arrangement of covered galleries of stone on -two sides of the palace, from which at intervals radiate side chambers -supposed to have been used for storage. To-day they recall rather more -the casements of our own old-fashioned forts. In these galleries the -rude foreshadowings of the arch principle are even more clearly to be -seen than in the underground conduit at Mycenæ which leads to the sunken -reservoir. The sides of the corridor are vertical for only a short -distance, and speedily begin to slope inward, meeting in an acute angle -overhead. The side chambers are of a similar construction. Nowhere does -it appear that the “Cyclopes,” if we may call them such, recognized the -principle of the keystone, although they seem to have come very close to -it by accident here and there, and notably so in the case of the little -postern gate which is to be seen on the side of the citadel toward the -modern highroad. As for the galleries, at the present day they are -polished to a glassy smoothness within by the rubbing of sheltering -flocks of sheep and goats. And they are interesting, not only because of -the massive stones used in building them, but because the similarity of -these corridors and storage chambers to the arrangements found near old -Carthage and other Ph[oe]nician sites may well argue a common paternity -of architecture, and thus give color to the tale that the ancient kings -of Argos secured artisans of marvelous skill and strength from abroad. -The immense size of the roughly hewn rocks easily enough begot the -tradition that these alien builders were men of gigantic stature, called -“Cyclopes” from the name of their king, Cyclops, and supposed to be a -race of Thracian giants; quite distinct, of course, from the other -mythological Cyclopes who served Hephaistos, or the Sicilian ones who -made life a burden for Odysseus on his wanderings. It seems to be a -plausible opinion now widely held that the foreign masons who erected -the Cyclopean walls in the Argolid were not from Thrace, but from the -southern shores of the Ægean—perhaps from Lycia. And it is interesting -to know that there are examples of the same sort of stone work, bearing -a similar name, to be found as far away as Peru. - -A somewhat lower hillock just west of the main acropolis—if it deserves -that name—is shown as once being the servants’ quarters. And we -descended, as is the common practice, from the main ruin to the road, by -a rude stone stairway at what was formerly the back of the castle, to -the narrow postern, the stones of which form an almost perfect, but -doubtless quite accidental, archway; and thence to our carriage, which -speedily whirled us away to Nauplia. The road thither lay around a -placid bay, sweeping in a broad curve through a landscape which was -happily marked by some very creditable trees. Nauplia herself made a -pleasant picture to the approaching eye, lying on her well-protected -harbor at the base of an imposing cliff, on the top of which the -frowning battlements of an old Venetian fortress proclaimed the presence -of the modern state prison of Greece. The evening sun brought out the -whiteness of the city against the forbidding rock behind, while far away -westward across the land-locked bay the evening light touched with a -rosy glow the snowy summit of Cyllene, and brought out the rugged -skyline of the less lofty Peloponnesian mountains. And it was these that -lay before us as our carriage rattled out of a narrow street and upon -the broad esplanade of the quay at the doors of our hotel. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER X. NAUPLIA AND - EPIDAURUS - -[Illustration] - - -We were awakened in the morning by an unaccustomed sound,—a subdued, -rapid, rhythmic cadence coming up from the esplanade below, accompanied -by the monotonous undertone of a voice saying something in time with the -shuffle of marching feet, the whole punctuated now and then by a word of -command and less frequently by the unmistakable clang of arms. The -soldiers from the fortress were having their morning drill. The words of -command sounded strangely natural, although presumably in Greek, -doubtless because military men the world over fall into the habit of -uttering “commands of execution” in a sort of unintelligible grunt. The -counting of “fours” sounded natural, too, despite the more marked -Hellenism of the numbers. So far from being a disturbance, the muffled -tread of the troops was rather soporific, which is fortunate, because I -have been in Nauplia on several occasions, and this early drill appears -to be the regular thing under the windows of the Hôtel des Étrangers. - -The fine open space along the water front makes a tempting -parade-ground, and at other hours an attractive place for general -assemblage, especially at evening, when the people of Nauplia are to be -seen lounging along the wharves or drinking their coffee in the shade -under the white line of buildings. The quay curves for a long distance -around the bay, and alongside it are moored many of those curious hollow -schooners that do the coastwise carrying in Greece. Nauplia appears -still to be something of a port, although infinitely smaller and less -busy than either the Piræus or Patras. Her name, of course, is redolent -of the sea. The beauty of her situation has often reminded visitors of -Naples, but it is only a faint resemblance to the Italian city. In size -she is little indeed. Scenically, however, her prospects are -magnificent, with their inclusion of a panorama of distant and imposing -peaks towering far away across the inner bay, so admirably sheltered -from the outer seas by the massive promontory, on the inner shelf of -which the city stands. The town is forced to be narrow because of the -little space between the water and the great cliff rising precipitously -behind. There is room for little more than three parallel streets, and -in consequence Nauplia is forced to make up in length what she lacks in -breadth, and strings along eastward in a dwindling line of buildings to -the point where the marshy shore curves around toward Tiryns, or loses -herself in the barren country that lies in the gray valleys that lead -inland to Epidaurus. - -From the windows of the hotel the most conspicuous object in the middle -distance was a picturesque islet in the midst of the bay, almost -entirely covered by a yellow fort of diminutive size and Venetian -appearance—the home of an interesting functionary, though a gruesome -one; to wit, the national executioner. For Nauplia at the present day is -above all else the Sing-Sing of Hellas,—the site of the national prison, -where are confined the principal criminals of the kingdom, and more -especially those who are under sentence of death. The medieval -fortifications on the summit behind the town have been converted to the -base uses of a jail, and are locally known as the Palamide. We did not -make the ascent to the prison, although it cannot be a hard climb, but -contented ourselves with purchasing the small wares that are vended by -street dealers in the lower town,—strings of “conversation beads,” odd -knives, and such like things, which you are assured were made by -“brigands” confined in the prison above. Somehow a string of beads made -by a Greek “brigand” seems a possession to be coveted. - -“M. de Nauplia,” if that is the proper way of referring to the headsman, -is a criminal himself. He is generally, and probably always, one who has -been convicted of murder, but who has accepted the post of executioner -as the price of escaping the extreme penalty of the law. It is no small -price to pay, for while it saves the neck of the victim it means virtual -exile during the term of the service, and aversion of all good people -forever. We were told that the executioner at the time was a man who had -indulged in a perfect carnival of homicide—so much so that in almost any -other country he would have been deemed violently and irreclaimably -insane and would have escaped death by confinement in an asylum. But not -so he. Instead he was sentenced to a richly deserved beheading by the -guillotine, and the penalty was only commuted by his agreement to assume -the unwelcome task of dispatching others of his kind—an office carrying -with it virtual solitary imprisonment for a term variously stated as -from five to eight years, and coupled with lasting odium. For all those -years he must live on the executioner’s island, unattended save by the -corporal’s guard of soldiers from the fort, which guard is changed every -day or two, lest the men be contaminated or corrupted into conniving at -the prisoner’s escape. Others told us that the term of his sanguinary -employ was as long as twenty-five years, but this was far greater than -the average story set as his limit. On liberation, it is said to be the -ordinary practice for these unhappy men to go abroad and seek spots -where their condition is unknown. On days when death sentences are to be -executed the headsman is conveyed with solemn military pomp to the -Palamide prison above the city, and there in the prison yard the -guillotine is found set up and waiting for the hand that releases its -death-dealing knife. Whether or not the executioner is paid a stated -pittance in any event, or whether, as we were told by some, he was paid -so much “per head,” we never found out. Meantime the executioner’s -island undeniably proves one of the features of Nauplia, quaint to see, -and shrouded with a sort of awesome mystery. - -The narrow streets of Nauplia furnished diversion for a short time. They -proved to be fairly clean, and the morning hours revealed a picturesque -array of barbaric colored blankets and rugs hung out of the upper -balconies to air. In one street a dense throng about an open door drew -attention to the morning session of the municipal court. The men roaming -the streets were mainly in European dress, although here and there a -peasant from the suburbs displayed his quaint capote and pomponed shoes. -It was one of these native-garbed gentry who approached us with a grin -and stated in excellent English, that sorted strangely with his Hellenic -clothes, that he was once employed in an electric light plant in -Cincinnati. Did he like it? Oh, yes! In fact, he was quite ready to go -back there, where pay was better than in Nauplia. And with an expressive -shrug and comprehensive gesture that took in the whole broad sweep of -the ancient kingdom of the Atreidai, he added, “Argos is broke; no -good!” One other such deserves mention, perhaps; one who broke in on a -reverential reverie one day, as we were contemplating a Greek dance in a -classic neighborhood, with some English that savored of the Bowery -brand, informing us that he had been in America and had traveled all -over that land of plenty in the peregrinations of Barnum’s circus, -adding as a most convincing passport to our friendship, "I was wit' old -man Barnum w'en he died." Greeks who speak English are plentiful in the -Peloponnesus, and even those who make no other pretensions to knowledge -of the tongue are proud of being able to say “all right” in response to -labored efforts at pidgin Greek. - -[Illustration: WOMAN SPINNING ON THE ROAD TO EPIDAURUS] - -It did not take long to exhaust the interest of the city of Nauplia -itself, including a survey of the massive walls that survive from the -Middle Ages. And it was fortunate, too, because we had planned to spend -the day at Epidaurus, which lies eighteen miles or so away, and was to -be reached only by a long and arduous ride in a carriage—the same highly -respectable old landau in which we had ridden the length of Agamemnon’s -kingdom the day before. Owing to the grade and the considerable solidity -of our party a third horse was in some miraculous way attached by ropes -to the carriage, the lunch was loaded in the hood forward, and we -rattled away through the narrow streets toward the open country east of -the town—a country that we soon discovered to be made up of narrow -valleys winding among gray and treeless hills, whose height increased -steadily as the highway wound along. It was a good highway—the distances -being marked in “stadia,” as the Greek classically terms his kilometres, -and the stadium posts constantly reminding us that this was an “Odos -Ethniké,” or national road. But we missed sadly the large trees that are -to be seen in the close neighborhood of the city as we jogged out on the -dusty road in the heat of the increasing April day. - -The grade, while not steep, was mainly upward through the long valleys, -making the journey a matter of more than three hours under the most -favorable of conditions; and the general sameness of the scenery made it -a rather monotonous drive. Of human habitation there was almost none, -for although here and there one might find a vineyard, the greater part -of the adjacent land is little more than rocky pasture. It soon -developed, however, that the modern Greek shepherd is not afraid to play -his pipes at noonday through any fear of exciting the wrath or jealousy -of Pan, as was once the case; for from the mountain-sides and from under -the scanty shade of isolated olive trees we kept hearing the plaintive -wailing of the pipes, faint and far away, where some tender of the -flocks was beguiling the time in music. This distant piping is -indescribable. The tone is hardly to be called shrill, for it is so only -in the sense that its pitch is high like the ordinary human whistling; -in quality it is a soft note, apparently following no particular tune -but wavering up and down, and generally ending in a minor wail that soon -grows pleasant to hear. Besides, it recalls the idyls of Theocritus, and -the pastorals and bucolics take on a new meaning to anybody who has -heard the music of the shepherd lads of Greece. Nothing would do but we -must buy pipes and learn to play upon them; so a zealous inquiry was -instituted among the wayfaring men we met, with a view to securing the -same. It was not on this day, however, but on the next that we finally -succeeded in buying what certainly looked like pipes, but which turned -out to be delusions and snares so far as music was concerned. They were -straight wooden tubes, in which holes had been burned out at regular -intervals to form “stops” for varying the tone. No reed was inserted in -them, and if they were to be played upon at all it must be by reason of -a most accomplished “lip.” We derived considerable amusement from them, -however, by attempting to reproduce on them the mellifluous whistling of -the natives; but the nearest approach to awakening any sound at all -which any of our party achieved was so lugubriously melancholy that he -was solemnly enjoined and commanded never to try it again, on pain of -being turned over to “M. de Nauplia” as the only fitting punishment. -Later we found that the flute-like notes that we heard floating down -over the vales from invisible shepherds came from a very different sort -of wind instrument—a reed pipe of bamboo not unlike the American boy’s -willow whistle, with six or seven stops bored out of the tube. - -The wayfarers were decidedly the most interesting sights on the -Epidaurus road. Several stadia out of Nauplia a stalwart man came -striding down a hill from his flocks and took the road to town. He was -dressed in the peasant garb, and across his shoulders he bore a yoke, -from either end of which depended large yellow sacks containing freshly -made cheese, the moisture draining through the meshes of the cloth as he -walked along to market. These cheeses we had met with in the little -markets at Athens and found not unpleasant, once one grows accustomed to -the goat’s milk flavor and the “freshness;” although it is probable that -a taste for Greek cheese, like that for the resinated wine, is an -acquired one. - -Groups of shepherds were encountered now and then, especially at the few -points along the way where buildings and shade were to be found. They -were all picturesque in their country dress, but more especially the -women, who spin flax as they walk and who probably ply a trade as old as -Hellenic civilization itself in about the same general way that their -most remote ancestors plied it. These little knots of peasants readily -enough posed for the camera, and were contented with a penny apiece for -drink-money. Not the least curious feature of these peasant herdsmen was -the type of crook carried—not the large, curved crook that the ordinary -preconceived ideal pictures, but straight sticks with a queer little -narrow quirk in the end, with which the shepherd catches the agile and -elusive goat or lamb by the hind leg and thus holds it until he is able -to seize the animal in some more suitable part. These herdsmen proved -hospitable folk, ready enough with offers of milk fresh from the herd, -which is esteemed a delicacy by them, whatever it might have seemed to -our uneducated palates. - -[Illustration: EPIDAURIAN SHEPHERDS] - -Perhaps halfway out to Epidaurus one passes another remnant of the most -remote time—a lofty fortification on a deserted hill. It is of polygonal -masonry—that is, of angular stones fitted together without mortar, -instead of being squared after the manner of the Cyclopes. Hard by, -spanning a ravine which has been worn by centuries of winter torrents, -there was a Cyclopean bridge, made of huge rocks so arranged as to form -an enduring arch, and on this once ran no doubt the great highway from -Epidaurus to the plain of Argos. - -It was long after the noontide hour when the gray theatre of Epidaurus, -a mere splash of stone in the distant side of a green hill, came in -sight, lying a mile or so away across a level field, in which lay -scattered the remnants of what was once the most celebrated hospital in -the world. For Epidaurus boasted herself to be the birthplace of -Æsculapius,—or, as we are on Greek soil, Asklepios,—and held his memory -in deep reverence forever after by erecting on the site a vast -establishment such as to-day we might call a “sanitarium.” After the -heat and dust of the ride it was pleasant to stretch out in the shade of -the scanty local trees, on the fragrant grass of the rising ground near -the theatre, and look back down the long valley, with its distant blue -mountains framed in a vista of massive gray hills. The nearer ones were -impressive in their height, but absolutely denuded of vegetation, like -the hills around Attica; and it was these mountains that formed the sole -scenery for the background of plays produced in the great theatre close -by. The theatre, of course, is the great and central attraction at -Epidaurus to-day, for it is in splendid preservation while all else is a -confusing mass of flat ruins. No ancient theatre is better preserved, or -can surpass this one for general grace of lines or perfection of -acoustic properties. Many were doubtless larger, but among all the old -Greek theatres Epidaurus best preserves to the modern eye the playhouse -of the ancients, circular orchestra and all. The acoustics anybody may -test easily enough. We disposed ourselves over the theatre in various -positions, high and low, along the half-a-hundred tiers of seats, and -listened to an oration dealing with the points of interest in the -theatre’s construction delivered in a very ordinary tone, from the -centre of the orchestra, but audible in the remotest tier. - -The circle of the orchestra is not paved, as had been the case with the -theatres seen at Athens, but is a green lawn, in the centre of which a -stone dot reveals the site of the ancient altar. It was stated that the -circle is not actually as perfect as it looks, being shorter in one set -of radii by something like two feet. But to all appearance it is -absolutely round, and is easily the most beautiful type of the circular -orchestra in existence to-day, if indeed it is not the only perfect one. -The immense amphitheatre surrounding it was evidently largely a natural -one, which a little artificial stonework easily made complete; and it is -so perfect to-day that a very little labor would make it entirely -possible to give a play there now before a vast audience. Some such plan -was actually talked of a few years ago, but abandoned,—no doubt, because -of the apparent difficulty of getting any very considerable company of -auditors to the spot, or of housing them while there. It would be -necessary, also, to rebuild the proskenion, the foundations of which are -still to be seen behind the orchestra, and one may tremble to think of -what might happen in the process should the advocates of the stage -theory and their opponents fail to agree better than they have hitherto -done. - -From the inspection of the theatre and the enjoyment of the view across -the plain to the rugged hills our dragoman called us to lunch, which was -spread in a little rustic pergola below. He had thoughtfully provided -fresh mullets, caught that morning off the Nauplia quay, and had cooked -them in the little house occupied by the local _custode_. Hunger, -however, was far less a matter of concern than thirst. We had been -warned not to drink of the waters of the sacred well of Asklepios in the -field below, and as there was no spring vouched for with that certitude -that had attended the waters of Castalia, we were thrown back, as usual, -on the bottled product of the island of Andros—a water which is not only -intrinsically pure and excellent, but well worth the price of admission -from the quaint English on its label. In rendering their panegyric on -the springs of Andros into the English tongue, the translators have -declared that it “is the equal of its superior mineral waters of -Europe.” - -The sacred well of the god, however, proved later in the day that it had -not lost all its virtues even under the assaults of the modern germ -theory; for while we were wandering through the maze of ruins in the -strong heat of the early afternoon one of our company was decidedly -inconvenienced by an ordinary "nose-bleed"—which prompt applications of -the water, drawn up in an incongruous tin pail, instantly stopped. And -thus did we add what is probably the latest cure, and the only one for -some centuries, worked by the once celebrated institution patronized by -the native divinity. It is related that the god was born on the hillside -just east of the meadow, but this story is sadly in conflict with other -traditions. It seems that Asklepios was not originally a divinity, but a -mere human, as he seems to be in the Homeric poems. His deification came -later, as not infrequently happened in ancient times, and with it came a -network of legends ascribing a godlike paternity to him and assigning no -less a sire than Apollo. Indeed, it is stated by some authorities that -the worship of Asklepios did not originate in Epidaurus at all, but in -Thessaly; and that the cult was a transplanted one in its chief site in -the Peloponnesus, brought there by Thessalian adventurers. - -[Illustration: THEATRE AT EPIDAURUS] - -All over the meadow below the great theatre are scattered the remains of -the ancient establishment. The ceremony of healing at Epidaurus seems to -have been in large part a faith-cure arrangement, although not entirely -so; for there is reason to believe that, as at Delphi, there was more or -less natural common sense employed in the miracle-working, and that the -priests of the healing art actually acquired not a little primitive -skill in medicine. It was a skill, however, which was attended by more -or less mummery and circumstance, useful for impressing the mind of the -patient; but this is not even to-day entirely absent from the practice -of medicine with its “placebos” and “therapeutic suggestion” elements. -The custom of sending the patient to rest in a loggia with others, where -he might expect a nocturnal visitation of the god himself, has been -referred to in these pages before, and survives even to-day in the -island of Tenos at the eve of the Annunciation. The tales of marvelous -cures at Epidaurus were doubtless as common and as well authenticated as -the similar modern stories at Lourdes and Ste. Anne de Beaupré. - -In addition to the actual apartments devoted to the sleeping patients, -which were but a small part of the sanitarium’s equipment, there was the -inevitable great temple of the god himself,—a large gymnasium suggestive -of the faith the doctors placed in bodily exercise as a remedy, and a -large building said to be the first example of a hospital ward, beside -numerous incidental buildings devoted to lodgment. Satirical -commentators have called attention to the presence of shrines to the -honor of Aphrodite and Dionysus as bearing enduring witness to the part -that devotion to those divinities seems to have been thought to bear in -afflicting the human race. The presence of the magnificent theatre and -the existence of a commodious stadium testify that life at Epidaurus was -not without its diversions to relieve the tedium of the medical -treatment. And in its day it must have been a large and beautiful -agglomeration of buildings. To-day it is as much of a maze as the ruins -at Delphi or at Olympia. The non-archæological visitor will probably -find his greatest interest in the theatre and in the curious circular -"tholos"—a remarkable building, the purpose of which is not clear, made -of a number of concentric rings of stone which once bore colonnades. It -stands in the midst of the great precinct, and in its ruined state it -resembles nothing so much as the once celebrated “pigs-in-clover” -puzzle. In the little museum on the knoll above, a very successful -attempt has been made to give an idea of this beautiful temple by a -partial restoration. Being indoors, it can give no idea either of the -diameter or height of the original; but the inclusion of fragments of -architrave and columns serve to convey an impression of the general -beauty of the structure, as we had seen to be the case with similar -fractional restorations at Delphi. The extensive ruins in the precinct -itself do not lend themselves to non-technical description. They are -almost entirely flat, and the ground plans serve to identify most of the -buildings, without giving any very good idea of their appearance when -complete. Pavements still remain intact in some of the rooms, and altar -bases and exedral seats lie all about in apparent confusion. -Nevertheless the discoveries have been plotted and identified with -practical completeness, and it is easy enough with the aid of the plans -to pass through the precinct and get a very good idea of the manifold -buildings which once went to make up what must have been a populous and -attractive resort for the sick. Whatever may be thought of the religious -aspects of the worship of Asklepios, it is evident that the regimen -prescribed by the cult at Epidaurus, with its regard for pure mountain -air and healthful bodily exercise, not to mention welcome diversion and -amusement for the mind, was furthered by ample facilities in the way of -equipment of this world-famous hospital. - -When we were there the Greek School of Archæology was engaged in digging -near the great temple of the god, the foundations of which have now been -completely explored to a considerable depth, and it was interesting to -see the primitive way in which the excavation was being carried on. Men -with curiously shaped picks and shovels were loosening the earth and -tossing it into baskets of wicker stuff, which in turn were borne on the -heads of women to a distance and there dumped. It was slow work, and -apparently nothing very exciting was discovered. Certainly nothing was -unearthed while we were watching this laborious toil. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XI. IN ARCADIA - -[Illustration] - - -With the benison of the landlord, who promised to send our luncheon over -to the station “in a little boy,” we departed from Nauplia on a train -toward noontime, headed for the interior of the Peloponnesus by way of -Arcadia. The journey that we had mapped out for ourselves was somewhat -off the beaten path, and it is not improbable that it always will be so, -at least for those travelers who insist on railway lines and hotels as -conditions precedent to an inland voyage, and who prefer to avoid the -primitive towns and the small comforts of peasants’ houses. Indeed our -own feelings verged on the apprehensive at the time, although when it -was all over we wondered not a little at the fact. Our plan was to leave -the line of the railway, which now entirely encircles the Peloponnesus, -at a point about midway in the eastern side, and to strike boldly across -the middle of the Peloponnesus to the western coast at Olympia, visiting -on the way the towns of Megalopolis and Andhritsæna, and the temple at -Bassæ. This meant a long day’s ride in a carriage and two days of -horseback riding over mountain trails; and as none of us, including the -two ladies, was accustomed to equestrian exercises, the apprehensions -that attended our departure from the Nauplia station were perhaps not -unnatural. - -It had been necessary to secure the services of a dragoman for the trip, -as none of us spoke more than Greek enough to get eggs and such common -necessaries of life, and we knew absolutely nothing of the country into -the heart of which we were about to venture. The dragoman on such a trip -takes entire charge of you. Your one duty is to provide the costs. He -attends to everything else—wires ahead for carriages, secures horses, -guides, and muleteers, provides all the food, hotel accommodation, tips, -railway tickets, and even afternoon tea. This comprehensive service is -to be secured at the stated sum of ten dollars a day per person, and in -our case it included not only the above things, but beds and bedding and -our own private and especial cook. To those accustomed to traveling in -luxury, ten dollars a day does not seem a high traveling average. To -those like ourselves accustomed to seeing the world on a daily -expenditure of something like half that sum, it is likely to seem at -first a trifle extravagant. However, let it be added with all becoming -haste, it is the only way to see the interior of Greece with any comfort -at all, and the comfort which it does enable is easily worth the cost -that it entails. - -From the moment we left Nauplia we were devoid of any care whatever. We -placed ourselves unreservedly in the keeping of an accomplished young -Athenian bearing the name of Spyros Apostolis, who came to us well -recommended by those we had known in the city, and who contracted to -furnish us with every reasonable comfort and transportation as -hereinbefore set forth, and also to supply all the mythology, -archæology, geography, history, and so forth that we should happen to -require. For Spyros, as we learned to call him, was versed not only in -various languages, including a very excellent brand of English, but -boasted not a little technical archæological lore and a command of -ancient history that came in very aptly in traversing famous ground. It -came to pass in a very few days that we regarded Spyros in the light of -an old friend, and appealed to him as the supreme arbiter of every -conceivable question, from that of proper wearing apparel to the name of -a distant peak. - -It was in the comfortable knowledge that for the next few days we had -absolutely no bargaining to do and that for the present Spyros, who was -somewhere in the train, had first-class tickets for our transportation, -that we settled back on the cushions and watched the receding landscape -and the diminishing bulk of the Nauplia cliffs. The train religiously -stopped at the station of Tiryns—think of a station provided for a -deserted acropolis!—and then jogged comfortably along to Argos, where we -were to change cars. It was here that we bought our shepherd pipes; and -we were practicing assiduously on them with no result save that of -convulsing the gathered populace on the platform, when an urchin of the -village spied a puff of steam up the line and set all agog by the -classic exclamation, “ἔρχεται,” equivalent to the New England lad’s -"she’s comin'!" - -The comfort of being handed into that train by Spyros and seeing our -baggage set in after us without a qualm over the proper fee for the -_facchini_ can only be realized by those who have experienced it. And, -by the way, the baggage was reduced to the minimum for the journey, -consisting of a suit case apiece. Our party was composed of those who -habitually “travel light,” even on the regular lines of traffic; but for -the occasion we had curtailed even our usual amount of impedimenta by -sending two of our grips around to the other end of our route by the -northern rail. Nobody would care to essay this cross-country jaunt with -needless luggage, where every extra tends to multiply the number of pack -mules. - -The train, which was fresh from Athens and bound for the southern port -of Kalamata, soon turned aside from the Ægean coast and began a -laborious ascent along the sides of deep valleys, the line making -immense horseshoes as it picked its way along, with frequent rocky cuts -but never a tunnel. I do not recall that we passed through a single -tunnel in all Greece. The views from the windows, which were frequently -superb as the train panted slowly and painfully up the long grades, -nevertheless were of the traditional rocky character—all rugged hills -devoid of greenery, barren valleys where no water was, often suggesting -nothing so much as the rocky heights of Colorado. It tended to make the -contrast the sharper when the train, attaining the heights at last, shot -through a pass which led us out of the barren rocks and into the heart -of the broad plain of Arcady. It was the real Arcadia of the poets and -painters, utterly different from the gray country which we had been -sojourning in and had come to regard as typical of all Greece. It was -the Arcadia of our dreams—a broad, peaceful, fertile plain, green and -smiling, peopled with pastoral folk, tillers of the fields, shepherds, -and doubtless poets, pipers, and nymphs. There is grandeur and beauty in -the rugged hills and narrow valleys of the north, but it would be wrong -to assume that Greece is simply that and nothing more. At least a -portion of Arcadia is exactly what the poets sing. The hills retreated -suddenly to the remote distance and left the railway running along a -level plain dotted with farms. Water ran rejoicing through. Trees waved -on the banks of the brooks. Far off to the south the rugged bulk of -Taÿgetos marked from afar the site of Sparta, the long ridge of the -mountain still covered with a field of gleaming snow. - -Arcadia boasts two of these large, oval plains, the one dominated by -Tripolis and the other by Megalopolis. Into the first-mentioned the -train trundled early in the afternoon and came to a halt amid a shouting -crowd of carriage drivers clamoring for passengers to alight and make -the drive down to Sparta. The road is said to be an excellent one, and -that we had not planned to lengthen our journey to that point, and -thence westward by the Langada Pass to the country which we later saw, -has always been one of the regrets which mark our Hellenic memories. -Sparta has made little appeal to the modern visitor through any -surviving remains of her ancient greatness, and has fallen into exactly -the state that Thucydides predicted for her. For he sagely remarked, in -comparing the city with Athens, that future ages were certain to -underestimate Sparta’s size and power because of the paucity of enduring -monuments, whereas the buildings at Athens would be likely to inspire -the beholder with the idea that she was greater than she really was. -That is exactly true to-day, although the enterprising British school -has lately undertaken the task of exploring the site of the ancient -Lacedæmonian city and has already uncovered remains that are interesting -archæologically, whatever may be true of their comparison with Athenian -monuments for beauty. In any event, Sparta, with her stern discipline, -rude ideals, and martial rather than intellectual virtues, can never -hope to appeal to modern civilization as Athens has done, although her -ultimate overwhelming of the Athenian state entitles her to historical -interest. Sparta lies hard by the mountain Taÿgetos, and to this day -they show you a ravine on the mountain-side where it is claimed the -deformed and weakly Spartan children were cast, to remove them from -among a race which prized bodily vigor above every other consideration. -It is a pity that Sparta, which played so vast a part in early history, -should have left so little to recall her material existence. If she was -not elegant or cultured, she was strong; and her ultimate triumph went -to prove that the land where wealth accumulates and men decay has a less -sure grip on life than the ruder, sterner nations. - -So it was that we passed Sparta by on the other side and journeyed on -from the smiling plain of Tripolis to the equally smiling one of -Megalopolis, entering thoroughly into the spirit of Arcadia and vainly -seeking the while to bring from those shepherd pipes melody fit to voice -the joy of the occasion. It was apparent now that we had crossed the -main watershed of Hellas, for the train was on a downward grade and the -brakes shrieked and squealed shrilly as we ground into a tiny junction -where stood the little branch-line train for Megalopolis. And in the -cool of the afternoon we found ourselves in that misnamed town, in the -very heart of Arcadia, the late afternoon light falling obliquely from -the westering sun as it sank behind an imposing row of serrated -mountains, far away. - -To one even remotely acquainted with Greek roots, the name Megalopolis -must signify a large city. As a matter of fact, it once was so. It was -erected deliberately with the intention of making a large city, founded -by three neighboring states, as a make-weight against the increasing -power of the Lacedæmonians; but, like most places built on mere fiat, it -dwindled away, until to-day it is a village that might more -appropriately be called Mikropolis—if, indeed, it is entitled to be -called a “polis” of any sort. The railway station, as usual, lay far -outside the village, and in the station yard the one carriage of the -town was awaiting us. Into it we were thrust; Spyros mounted beside the -driver, a swarthy native; and with a rattle that recalled the famous -Deadwood coach we whirled out of the inclosure and off to the town. The -village itself proved to be but a sorry hole, to put it in the mildest -form. It was made up of a fringe of buildings around a vacant common, -level as a floor and sparsely carpeted with grass and weeds. As we -passed house after house without turning in, hope grew, along with -thankfulness, that we had at least escaped spending the night in any -hovel hitherto seen. Nevertheless we did eventually stop before a dingy -abode, and were directed to alight and enter there. Under a dark stone -archway and over a muddy floor of stone pavement we picked our gingerly -way, emerging in a sort of inner court, which Spyros pointed out was a -"direct survival of the hypæthral megaron of the ancient Mycenæan -house"—a glorified ancestry indeed for a dirty area around which were -grouped the apartments of the family pig, cow, and sundry other -household appurtenances and attachés. It was an unpromising prelude for -a night’s lodging, but it made surprise all the greater when we emerged, -by means of a flight of rickety stairs, on a little balcony above, and -beheld adjoining it the apartments destined for our use. They had been -swept and garnished, and the floors had been scrubbed until they shone. -The collapsible iron beds had been erected and the bedding spread upon -them, while near by stood the dinner table already laid for the evening -meal; and presiding over it all stood the cook, to whose energy all -these preparations were due, smiling genially through a forest of -mustache, and duly presented to us as “Stathi.” - -In the twilight we whetted our appetites for dinner by a brisk walk out -of the village, perhaps half a mile away, to the site of the few and -meagre ruins that Megalopolis has to show. Our progress thither was -attended with pomp and pageantry furnished by the rabble of small boys -and girls whose presence was at first undesirable enough, but who later -proved useful as directing us to the lane that led to the ruins and as -guards in stoning off sundry sheep dogs that disputed the way with us. -The usual disbursement of leptá ensued, and we were left to inspect the -remains of ancient greatness in peace. Those remains were few and -grass-grown. They included little more than a theatre, once one of the -greatest in Greece, with the structures behind the orchestra still -largely visible, and a few foundations of buildings behind these, on the -bank of a winding river. Aside from these the old Megalopolis is no -more. - -That night we sat down to a dinner such as few hotels in Athens could -have bettered. The candlesticks on the table were of polished silver, -which bore the monogram of the ancestors of Spyros. Our tablecloth and -napkins were embroidered. Our dishes were all of a pattern, and we -afterwards discovered that every piece of our household equipment, from -soup plates to the humblest “crockery” of the family supply, bore the -same tasteful decoration. Many a time we have laughed at the incongruity -between our surroundings and the culinary panorama that Stathi conjured -up from his primitive kitchen outside and served with such elegance. It -was a masterpiece of the chef’s art, six courses following each other in -rapid succession, all produced in the narrow oven where a charcoal fire -blazed in answer to the energetic fanning of a corn broom. Soup gave -place to macaroni; macaroni to lamb chops and green peas; chickens -followed, flanked by beans and new potatoes from the gardens of the -neighborhood; German pancakes wound up the repast; and coffee was served -in an adjoining coffee-house afterward—the whole accompanied by copious -draughts of the water of Andros, which cheers without inebriating, and -beakers of the red wine of Solon, which I suspect is capable of doing -both. A very modern-looking oil lamp helped furnish heat as well as -light, for we were high above the sea and the night was chilly. Even to -this remote district the product of the Rockefeller industry has -penetrated, and no sight is more common than the characteristic square -oil cans, with a wooden bar across the centre for carrying, which the -peasants use for water buckets when the original oil is exhausted. They -are useful, of course—more so than the old-fashioned earthen amphorae. -But they are not as picturesque. - -My companion, whom it will be convenient to call the Professor, and I -adjourned to the coffee-house below for our after-dinner smoke, and -demanded coffee in our best modern Greek, only to evoke the hearty -response, “Sure,” from our host. It seemed he had lived in New York, -where he maintained an oyster bar; and, like all who have ever tasted -the joys of Bowery life, he could not be happy anywhere else, but -yearned to hear the latest news from that land of his heart’s desire. We -tarried long over our cups, and had to force payment on him. Thence we -retired through the low-browed arch that led to our abode, barred and -locked it with ponderous fastenings that might have graced the Lion Gate -itself, and lay down to repose on our collapsible beds, which happily -did not collapse until Spyros and Stathi prepared them for the next -day’s ride. This they did while we breakfasted. The morning meal came -into the bedrooms bodily on a table propelled by our faithful servitors, -the food having been prepared outside; and as we ate, the chamber work -progressed merrily at our table side, so that in short order we were -ready for the road. The carriage for the journey stood without the main -gate, manned by a dangerous-looking but actually affable native, and -behind it lay a spring cart of two wheels, wherein were disposed our -beds, cooking utensils, and other impedimenta. The word of command was -given, and the caravan set out blithely for the western mountains, bowed -out of town by the beaming face of the man who had kept an oyster bar. - -The road had an easy time of it for many a level mile. It ran through a -fertile plain, watered by the sources of the famous Alpheios River, -which we skirted for hours, the hills steadily converging upon us until -at last they formed a narrow gorge through which the river forced its -way, brawling over rocks, to the Elian plains beyond. Beside the way was -an old and dismantled winepress, which we alighted long enough to visit. -Disused as it was, it was easy to imagine the barefooted maidens of the -neighborhood treading out the juices of the grapes in the upper loft, -the liquid flowing down through the loose flooring into the vats -beneath. It is the poetic way of preparing wine; but having seen one -night of peasant life already, we were forced to admit that modern -methods of extracting the juice seem rather to be preferred. - -Just ahead lay the gateway of Arcadia, guarded by a conspicuous conical -hill set in the midst of the narrowing plain between two mountain chains -and bearing aloft a red-roofed town named Karytæna. Time was too brief -and the sun too hot to permit us to ascend thereto, but even from the -highway below it proved an immensely attractive place, recalling the -famous hill towns of Italy. Behind it lay the broadening plain of -Megalopolis and before the narrow ravine of the Alpheios, walled in by -two mighty hills. Karytæna seems like an inland Gibraltar, and must in -the old days have been an almost impregnable defense of the Arcadian -country on its western side, set as it is in the very centre of a -constricted pass. But for some reason, possibly because the enemies of -Greece came chiefly from the east, it seems not to have figured -prominently as a fortress in history. Below the town the road wound down -to the river’s edge and crossed the stream on a quaint six-arched -bridge, against one pier of which some thankful persons had erected a -shrine of Our Lady. And beyond the road began a steady ascent. We had -left the plain for good, it appeared. Before us lay the deep and -tortuous defile through which the river flows to the western seas, the -roar of its rushing waters growing fainter and fainter below as the -panting horses clambered upward with their burdens, until at last only a -confused murmuring of the river was heard mingling with the rustle of -the wind through the leaves of the wayside trees. The road was not -provided with parapets save in a few unusually dangerous corners, and -the thought of a plunge down that steep incline to the river so far -below was not at all pleasant. Fortunately on only one occasion did we -meet another wagon, and on that one occasion our party incontinently -dismounted and watched the careful passage of the two with mingled -feelings. It was accomplished safely and easily enough, but we felt much -more comfortable to be on the ground and see the wheels graze the edge -of the unprotected outside rim of the highway. - -[Illustration: AN OUTPOST OF ARCADY] - -Every now and then a cross ravine demanded an abrupt descent of the road -from its airy height, and down we would go to the bottom of a narrow -valley, the driver unconcernedly cracking his whip, the bells of our -steeds jangling merrily, and our party hanging on and trying hard to -enjoy the view in a nervous and apprehensive way, although increasingly -mindful of the exposed right-hand edge of the shelf. It bothered Stathi, -the cook, not at all. He was riding behind on the baggage cart which -followed steadily after, and at the steepest of the descent he was -swaying from side to side on the narrow seat, his cigarette hanging -neglected from his lips—sound asleep. - -These occasional ravines appeared to be due to centuries of water -action, and their banks, which were well covered with woods, were marked -here and there by tiny threads of cascades which sang pleasantly down -the cliffs from above, crossed the road, and disappeared into the wooded -depths of the river valley below. Bædeker had mentioned a huge plane -tree and a gushing spring of water as a desirable place to lunch, but we -looked for them in vain. Instead we took our midday meal beside a stone -khan lying deserted by the roadside, in which on the open hearth Stathi -kindled a fire and produced another of his culinary miracles, which we -ate in the open air by the road, under a plane tree that was anything -but gigantic. We have never quite forgiven Bædeker that “gushing -spring.” When one has lived for a month or more on bottled waters, the -expectation of drinking at nature’s fount is not lightly to be regarded. - -[Illustration: THE GORGE OF THE ALPHEIOS] - -The remainder of the ride was a steady climb to Andhritsæna, varied by -few descents, although this is hardly to be deemed a drawback. The -knowledge that one has two thousand feet to climb before the goal is -reached does not conduce to welcome of a sudden loss of all the height -one has by an hour’s hard climb attained. The tedium of the hours of -riding was easily broken by descending to walk, the better thus to enjoy -the view which slowly opened out to the westward. We were in the midst -of the mountains of the Peloponnesus now, and they billowed all around. -It was a deserted country. Distant sheep bells and occasional pipes -testified that there was life somewhere near, but the only person we met -was a woman who came down from a hill to ask the driver to get a doctor -for her sick son when he should reach Andhritsæna. At last, well toward -evening, the drivers pointed to a narrow cut in the top of the hill -which we were slowly ascending by long sweeping turns of road and -announced the top of the pass. And the view that greeted us as we -entered the defile was one not easy to forget. Through the narrow -passage in the summit lay a new and different country, and in the midst -of it, nestling against the mountain-side, lay Andhritsæna, red roofed -and white walled, and punctuated here and there by pointed cypress -trees. Below the town, the hills swept sharply away to the valleys -beneath, filled with green trees, while above the rocks of the -mountain-side rose steeply toward the evening sky. In the western -distance we saw for the first time Erymanthus and his gigantic -neighbors, the mountains that hem in the plain about Olympia, the taller -ones snow-clad and capped with evening clouds. We straightened in our -seats. Stathi came out of his doze. The whips cracked and we dashed into -the town with the smartness of gait and poise that seem to be demanded -by every arrival of coach and four from Greece to Seattle. And thus they -deposited us in the main square of Andhritsæna, under a huge plane tree, -whose branches swept over the entire village street, and whose trunk -lost itself in the buildings at its side. The carriage labored away. The -dragoman and his faithful attendant sought our lodging house to set it -in order. And in the meantime we stretched our cramped limbs in a walk -around the town, attended as usual by the entire idle population of -youths and maidens, to see the village from end to end before the sun -went down. - -I should, perhaps, add the remark that in my spelling of “Andhritsæna” I -have done conscious violence to the word as it stands on the map—the -added “h” representing a possibly needless attempt to give the local -pronunciation of the name. It is accented on the second syllable. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XII. ANDHRITSÆNA AND - THE BASSÆ TEMPLE - -[Illustration] - - -We found the village of Andhritsæna fascinating in the extreme, from -within as well as from without. It was obviously afflicted with a degree -of poverty, and suffers, like most Peloponnesian towns, from a steady -drain on its population by the emigration to America. Naturally it was -squalid, as Megalopolis had been, but in a way that did not mar the -natural beauty of its situation, and, if anything, increased its -internal picturesqueness. This we had abundant opportunity to observe -during our initial ramble through the place, starting from the gigantic -plane tree which forms a sort of nucleus of the entire village, and -which shelters with its spreading branches the chief centre of local -activity,—the region immediately adjacent to the town pump. It was not -exactly a pump, however. The term is merely conventional, and one must -understand by it a stone fountain, fed by a spring, the water gushing -out by means of two spouts, whither an almost continuous stream of -townsfolk came with the inevitable tin oil-cans to obtain water for -domestic uses. - -The main, and practically the only, street of the town led westward from -the plane, winding along through the village in an amiable and casual -way. It was lined close on either side by the houses, which were -generally two stories in height, and provided with latticed balconies -above to make up for the necessary lack of piazzas below. Close to the -great central tree these balconies seemed almost like the arboreal -habitation made dear to the childish heart by the immortal Swiss Family -Robinson; and in these elevated stations the families of Andhritsæna -were disporting themselves after the burden and heat of the day, -gossiping affably to and fro across the street, or in some cases -reading. - -[Illustration: ANDHRITSÆNA] - -We found it as impossible to disperse our body guard of boys and girls -as had been the case the evening before at Megalopolis. Foreign visitors -in Andhritsæna are few enough to be objects of universal but not -unkindly curiosity to young and old; and the young, being unfettered by -the insistent demands of coffee-drinking, promptly insisted on attending -our pilgrimage _en masse_. It was cool, for the sun was low and the -mountain air had begun to take on the chill of evening. We clambered up -to a lofty knoll over the town and looked down over its slanting tiles -to the wooded valley beneath, the evening smoke of the chimneys rising -straight up in thin, curling wisps, while from the neighboring hills -came the faint clatter of the herd bells and occasionally the soft note -of some boy’s piping. Far away to the north we could see the snowy dome -of Erymanthus, rising out of a tumbling mass of blue mountains, while -between lay the opening and level plain of the Alpheios, widening from -its narrows to form the broad meadows of Elis on the western coasts of -the Peloponnesus. Here and there the house of some local magnate, more -prosperous than the rest, boasted a small yard and garden, adorned with -the sombre straightness of cypresses. Behind the town rose the rocky -heights of the neighboring hills, long gorges running deep among them. -Whichever way the eye turned, there was charm. The body guard of -infantry retired to a respectful distance and stood watching us, finger -bashfully to mouth in silent wonderment. Mothers with babies came out of -near-by hovels to inspect us, and enjoyed us as much as we enjoyed the -prospect that opened before. - -From the aspect of the houses of the town we had adjudged it prudent to -allow Spyros and Stathi a decent interval for the preparation of our -abode before descending to the main street again and seeking out the -house. Apparently the exact location of it was known by the entire -population by this time, for, as we descended, willing natives pointed -the way by gesticulations, indicating a narrow and not entirely -prepossessing alley leading down from the central thoroughfare by some -rather slimy steps, to a sort of second street, and thence to another -alley, if anything less prepossessing than the first, where a formidable -wooden gateway gave entrance to a court. Here the merry villagers bade -adieu and retired to their coffee again. Once within, the prospect -brightened. It was, of course, the fore-court of a peasant’s house, for -hotels are entirely lacking in Andhritsæna. It was paved with stone -flagging, and above the courtyard rose a substantial veranda on which -stood the host—a bearded man, gorgeous in native dress, the voluminous -skirt of which was immaculate in its yards and yards of fustanella. From -tasseled fez to pomponed shoes he was a fine type of peasant, -contrasting with his wife, who wore unnoticeable clothes of European -kind. She was a pleasant-faced little body, and evidently neat, which -was more than all. And she ushered us into the house to the rooms where -Spyros and the cook were busily engaged in making up the beds, -discreetly powdering the mattresses, and setting things generally to -rights. The embroidered bed linen which had given us such delight by its -contrast with the surroundings at Megalopolis at once caught the eye of -the peasant woman, and she promptly borrowed a pillow-case to learn the -stitch with which it was adorned. As for the rooms, they were scrubbed -to a whiteness. - -Just outside, overlooking the narrow by-way through which we had -entered, was the inevitable balcony, whence the view off to the northern -mountains was uninterrupted; and while supper was preparing we wrapped -ourselves in sweaters and shawls and stood in mute admiration of the -prospect—the deep valley below, the half-guessed plain beyond, and the -rugged line of peaks silhouetted against the golden afterglow of the -sunset. From this view our attention was distracted only by the sudden -clamor of a church bell close at hand, which a priest was insistently -ringing for vespers. The bell was hung, as so often happens, in a tree -beside the church; and to prevent the unauthorized sounding of it by the -neighborhood urchins the wise priest had caused the bell-rope to be -shortened so that the end of it hung far up among the branches, and was -only to be reached for the purposes of the church by a long iron poker, -which the holy man had produced from somewhere within his sanctuary and -which he was wielding vigorously to attract the attention of the devout. -It may have been a sort of Greek angelus, designed to mark the hour of -general sunset prayer; for nobody appeared in response to its summons, -and after clanging away for what seemed to him a sufficient interval the -priest unshipped the poker and retired with it to the inner recesses of -the church, to be seen no more. The nipping and eager evening air -likewise drove us to shelter, and the heat of the lamp and candles was -welcome as lessening, though ever so slightly, the cold which the night -had brought. It was further temporarily forgotten in the discussion of -the smiling Stathi’s soups and chickens and flagons of Solon. - -[Illustration: AN ARBOREAL CAMPANILE. ANDHRITSÆNA] - -The professor and I stumbled out in the darkness of the yard after the -evening meal in search of a coffee-house, for the better enjoyment of -our postprandial cigarettes, but we got no farther than the outer court -before deciding to return for a lantern. Andhritsæna turned out to be -not only chilly, but intensely dark o' nights. Its serpentine by-ways -were devoid of a single ray of light, and even the main street, when we -had found it, was relieved from utter gloom only by the lamps which -glimmered few and faint in wayside shops that had not yet felt the force -of the early-closing movement. The few wayfarers that we met as we -groped our way along by the ineffectual fire of a square lantern, -wherein a diminutive candle furnished the illuminant, likewise carried -similar lights, and looked terrible enough hooded in their capotes. -Diogenes-like, we sought an honest man,—and speedily discovered him in -the proprietor of a tiny “kaffeneion,” who welcomed us to his tables and -set before us cups of thick coffee, fervently disclaiming the while his -intention to accept remuneration therefor. Indeed this generosity bade -fair to be its own reward, for it apparently became known in a -surprisingly short time that the foreign visitors were taking -refreshment in that particular inn, with the result that patronage -became brisk. The patrons, however, apparently cared less for their -coffee than for the chance to study the newcomers in their midst at -close range, and after we had basked for a sufficient time in the -affable curiosity of the assembled multitude we stumbled off again -through the night to our abode, the lantern casting gigantic and awful -shadows on the wayside walls the while. - -Now the chief reason for our visiting this quaint and out-of-the-way -hamlet was its contiguity to the mountain on the flat top of which -stands the ancient Bassæ temple. The correct designation, I believe, is -really the “temple at Bassæ,” but to-day it stands isolated and alone, -with no considerable habitation nearer than Andhritsæna, whatever was -the case when it was erected. The evidence tended to show that Bassæ -might be reached with about the same ease on foot as on horseback, or at -least in about the same time; but as we were entirely without experience -in riding, it was voted best that we begin our training by securing -steeds for this minor side trip, in order to have some slight -preparation for the twelve hours in the saddle promised us for the day -following—a portentous promise that had cast a sort of indefinite shadow -of apprehension over our inmost souls since leaving Nauplia. It was a -wise choice, too, because it revealed to us among other things the -difficulty of Greek mountain trails and the almost absolute -sure-footedness of the mountain horse. - -We were in the saddle promptly at nine, and in Indian file we set out -through the village street, filled with the tremors natural to those who -find themselves for the first time in their lives seated on horseback. -But these tremors were as nothing to what beset us almost immediately on -leaving the town and striking into the narrow ravine that led up into -the hills behind it. It developed that while the prevailing tendency of -the road was upward, this did not by any means preclude several -incidental dips, remarkable alike for their appalling steepness and -terrifying rockiness, for which their comparative brevity only partially -atoned. The sensation of looking down from the back of even a small -horse into a gully as steep as a sharp pitch roof, down which the trail -is nothing but the path of a dried-up torrent filled with boulders, -loose stones, smooth ledges, sand, and gravel, is anything but -reassuring. It was with silent misgivings and occasional squeals of -alarm that our party encountered the first of these descents. We had not -yet learned to trust our mounts, and we did not know that the -well-trained mountain horse is a good deal more likely to stumble on a -level road than on one of those perilous downward pitches. From the -lofty perches on top of the clumsy Greek saddles piled high with rugs, -it seemed a terrifying distance to the ground; and the thought of a -header into the rocky depth along the side of which the path skirted or -down into which it plunged was not lightly to be shaken off. It was much -better going up grade, although even here we found ourselves smitten -with pity for the little beasts that scrambled with so much agility up -cruel steeps of rock, bearing such appreciable burdens of well-nourished -Americans on their backs. Spyros did his best to reassure us. He was -riding ahead and throwing what were intended as comforting remarks over -his shoulder to Mrs. Professor, who rode next in line. And as he was not -aware of the exact make-up of the party’s mounts, he finally volunteered -the opinion that horses were a good deal safer than mules for such a -trip, because mules stumbled so. Whereupon Mrs. Professor, who was -riding on a particularly wayward and mountainous mule, emitted a shriek -of alarm and descended with amazing alacrity to the ground, vowing that -walking to Bassæ was amply good enough for her. Nevertheless the mule, -although he did stumble a little now and then, managed to stay with us -all the way to Olympia, and no mishap occurred. - -The saddles lend themselves to riding either astride or sidesaddle, and -the ordinary man we met seemed to prefer the latter mode. The saddle -frame is something the shape of a sawhorse, and after it is set on the -back of the beast it is piled high with blankets, rugs, and the like, -making a lofty but fairly comfortable seat. For the ladies the guides -had devised little wooden swings suspended by rope to serve as stirrups -for the repose of their soles. The arrangement was announced to be -comfortable enough, although it was necessary for the riders to hold on -fore and aft to the saddle with both hands, while a muleteer went ahead -and led the beasts. In some of the steeper places the maintenance of a -seat under these conditions required no little skill. As for the men, -there were no special muleteers. We were supposed to know how to ride, -and in a short time we had discovered how to guide the horses with the -single rein provided, either by pulling it, or by pressing it across the -horse’s neck. To stop the modern Greek horse you whistle. That is to -say, you whistle if you can muster a whistle at all, which is sometimes -difficult when a panic seizes you and your mouth becomes dry and -intractable. In the main our progress was so moderate that no more skill -was needed to ride or guide the steeds than would be required on a -handcar. Only on rare occasions, when some of the beasts got off the -track or fell behind, was any real acquaintance with Greek horsemanship -required. This happened to all of us in turn before we got home again, -and in each case the muleteers came to our aid in due season after we -had completely lost all recollection of the proper procedure for -stopping and were seeking to accomplish it by loud “whoas” instead of -the soothing sibilant which is the modern Greek equivalent for that -useful, and indeed necessary, word. - -We found it highly desirable now and then to alight and walk, for to the -unaccustomed rider the strain of sitting in a cramped position on a -horse for hours at a time is wearying and benumbing to the lower limbs. -On the ride up to Bassæ, those who did no walking at all found it -decidedly difficult to walk when they arrived. The one deterrent was the -labor involved in dismounting and the prospective difficulty of getting -aboard again. In this operation the muleteers assisted our clumsiness -not a little, and we discovered that the way to attract their attention -to a desire to alight was to say “ka-tò,” in a commanding tone—the same -being equivalent to “down.” - -So much for our experiences as we wound along the sides of rocky ravines -and gorges in the heart of the hills behind Andhritsæna. When we had -grown accustomed to the manipulation of the horses and had learned that -the beasts really would not fall down and dash us into the depths below, -we began to enjoy the scenery. It was rugged, for the most part, -although at the bottoms of the valleys there was frequently meadow land -spangled with innumerable wildflowers and shrubbery, watered by an -occasional brook. It was a lovely morning, still cool and yet cloudless. -The birds twittered among the stunted trees. We passed from narrow vale -to narrow vale, and at last, when no outlet was to be seen, we ceased to -descend and began a steady climb out of the shady undergrowth along the -side of a rocky mountain, where there was no wood at all save for -scattered groves of pollard oaks—curious old trees, low and gnarled, -covered with odd bunches, and bearing an occasional wreath of mistletoe. -At the ends of their branches the trees put forth handfuls of small -twigs, which we were told the inhabitants are accustomed to lop off for -fagots. It is evident that the trees do not get half a chance to live -and thrive. But they manage in some way to prolong their existence, and -they give to the region at Bassæ and to the temple there a certain weird -charm. - -[Illustration: THRESHING FLOOR AT BASSÆ] - -Off to the west as we climbed there appeared a shining streak of silver -which the guides saw and pointed to, shouting “Thalassa! Thalassa!” (the -sea). And, indeed, it was the first glimpse of the ocean west of Greece. -Shortly beyond we attained the summit and began a gentle descent along a -sort of tableland through a sparse grove of the stunted oaks, among -which here and there appeared round flat floors of stone used for -threshing. Many of these could be seen on the adjacent hills and in the -valleys, and the number visible at one time proved to be something like -a score. All at once, as we wound slowly down through the avenue of -oaks, the temple itself burst unexpectedly into view, gray like the -surrounding rocks, from which, indeed, it was built. To approach a -shrine like this from above is not common in Greece, and this sudden -apparition of the temple, which is admirably preserved, seems to have -struck every visitor who has described it as exceedingly beautiful, -particularly as one sees it framed in a foreground of these odd trees. -We were high enough above the structure to look down into it, for it is -of course devoid of any roof; and unlike most of the other temples, it -was always so, for it was of the “hypæthral” type, and intended to be -open to the sky. Nor was this the only unusual feature of the temple at -Bassæ. It was peculiar among the older shrines in that it ran north and -south instead of east and west, which was the regular custom among the -roofed structures of the Greeks. Of course this difference in -orientation has given rise to a great deal of discussion and speculation -among those whose opinions are of weight in such matters. Probably the -casual visitor in Greece is well aware of the custom of so fixing the -axes of temples as to bring the eastern door directly in line with the -rising sun on certain appropriate days, for the better illumination of -the interior on those festivals. Although such expedients as the use of -translucent marble roofs were resorted to, the lighting of the interior -of roofed temples was always a matter of some little difficulty, and -this arrangement of the doorways was necessary to bring out the image of -the god in sufficiently strong light. From this system of orientation it -has occasionally been possible to identify certain temples as dedicated -to particular deities, by noting the days on which the rising sun would -have come exactly opposite the axis of the shrine. No such consideration -would apply with the same force to a hypæthral temple, whatever else -might have figured in the general determination of the orientation. But -even at Bassæ, where the length of the temple so obviously runs north -and south, it is still true that one opening in it was eastward, and it -is supposed that in the end of the temple space was an older shrine to -Apollo, which, like other temples, faced the rising sun. This older -precinct was not interfered with in erecting the greater building, and -it is still plainly to be seen where the original sacred precinct was. - -The members of the single encircling row of columns are still intact, -although in some cases slightly thrown out of alignment; and they still -bear almost the entire entablature. The cella wall within is also -practically intact, and inside it are still standing large sections of -the unusual engaged half-columns which encircled the cella, standing -against its sides. The great frieze in bas-relief, which once ran around -the top, facing inward, is now in the British Museum, where it is justly -regarded as one of the chief treasures of the Greek collection. It -hardly needs the comment that such arrangement of the frieze was highly -unusual, inside the building, instead of on the outer side of the cella, -as was the case in the Parthenon. Ictinus, the architect of the -Parthenon, also built the temple at Bassæ, which was dedicated by the -Phigalians to “Apollo the Helper,” in gratification for relief from a -plague. That fact has given rise to the conjecture that it was perhaps -built at the same time that the plague ravaged Athens, during the early -part of the Peloponnesian War. However that may be, it is evidently true -that it belongs to the same golden age that gave us the Parthenon and -the Propylæa at Athens. Unlike them, it does not glow with the varied -hues of the weathered Pentelic marble, but is a soft gray, due to the -native stone of which it was constructed. And this gray color, -contrasting with the sombreness of the surrounding grove, gives much the -same satisfactory effect as is to be seen at Ægina, where the temple is -seen, like this, in a framework of trees. - -Needless to say, the outlook from this lofty site—something like four -thousand feet above the sea—is grand. The ocean is visible to the south -as well as to the west. The rolling mountains to the east form an -imposing pageant, culminating in the lofty Taÿgetos range. Looming like -a black mound in the centre of the middle distance to the southward is -the imposing and isolated acropolis of Ithome, the stronghold of the -ancient Messenians. As usual, the builders of the temple at Bassæ -selected a most advantageous site for their shrine. It was while we were -enjoying the view after lunch that a solitary German appeared from the -direction of Ithome, having passed through the modern Phigalia. He had a -boy for a guide, but aside from that he was roaming through this -deserted section of Greece alone. He knew nothing of the language. He -had no dragoman to make the rough places smooth. He had spent several -sorry nights in peasants’ huts, where vermin most did congregate. But he -was enjoying it all with the enthusiasm of the true Philhellene, and on -the whole was making his way about surprisingly well. We sat and chatted -for a long time in the shade of the temple, comparing it with the lonely -grandeur of the temple at Segesta, in Sicily. And as the sun was sinking -we took the homeward way again, but content to walk this time rather -than harrow our souls by riding down the excessively steep declivity -that led from the mountain to the valleys below. - -[Illustration: TEMPLE AT BASSÆ, FROM ABOVE] - -[Illustration: TEMPLE AT BASSÆ, FROM BELOW] - -At dinner that night in Andhritsæna an old man appeared with wares to -sell—curiously wrought and barbaric blankets, saddlebags, and the like, -apparently fresh and new, but really, he claimed, the dowry of his wife -who had long been dead. He had no further use for the goods, but he did -think he might find uses for the drachmæ they would bring. Needless to -say, our saddlebags were the heavier the next day when our pack-mules -were loaded for the journey over the hills to Olympia. - -One other thing deserves a word of comment before we leave Andhritsæna, -and that is the cemetery. We had seen many funeral processions at -Athens, carrying the uncoffined dead through the streets, but we had -never paid much attention to the burial places, because they are still -mainly to be found outside the city gates, and not in the line commonly -taken by visitors. At Andhritsæna we came upon one, however, and for the -first time noticed the curious little wooden boxes placed at the heads -of the graves, resembling more than anything else the bird-houses that -humane people put on trees at home. Inside of the boxes we found oil -stains and occasionally the remains of broken lamps, placed there, we -were told, as a "mnemeion"—doubtless meaning a memorial, which word is a -direct descendant. The lamps appear to be kept lighted for a time after -the death of the person thus honored, but none were lighted when we saw -the cemetery of Andhritsæna, and practically all had fallen into -neglect, as if the dead had been so long away that grief at their -departure had been forgotten. A little chapel stood hard by, and on its -wall a metal plate and a heavy iron spike did duty for a bell. - -Then the cold night settled down upon Andhritsæna, and we retired to the -warmth of our narrow beds, ready for the summons which should call us -forth to begin our fatiguing ride to the famous site of old Olympia. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XIII. OVER THE HILLS - TO OLYMPIA - -[Illustration] - - -At five o'clock the persistent thumping of Spyros on the bedroom doors -announced the call of incense-breathing morn, though Ph[oe]bus had not -yet by any means driven his horses above the rim of the horizon. The air -outside was thick o' fog,—doubtless a low-lying cloud settling on the -mountain,—and it was dark and cheerless work getting out of our narrow -beds and dressing in the cold twilight. Nevertheless it was necessary, -for the ride to Olympia is long, and Spyros had promised us a fatiguing -day, with twelve hours in the saddle as a minimum. To this forecast the -pessimistic Baedeker lent much plausibility by his reference to the road -as being unspeakably bad; and besides we ourselves had on the previous -day gathered much personal experience of the mountain trails of the -region. Breakfast under these circumstances was a rather hasty meal, -consumed in comparative silence. - -By the time the last of the rolls and jam had disappeared and the task -of furling up the beds was well advanced, a clatter of hoofs in the -village street drew one of the party to the door, whence word was -speedily returned that the street outside was full of horses. And it -was. There were ten steeds, including four for our party, two for Spyros -and Stathi, one for a muleteer relief conveyance, and the rest for the -baggage—the latter being small and seemingly quite inadequate burros or -donkeys, who proved more notable for their patient indifference than for -size or animation. While these were being laden, four other beasts drew -near, bearing our solitary German of the day before and another of his -countrymen who had materialized during the night, with their -impedimenta. They were welcomed to the caravan, which, numbering -fourteen beasts and almost as many humans, took the road out of town -with commendable promptitude at sharp six o'clock. The cloud had lifted -as we rounded the western edge of the valley and looked back at -Andhritsæna, glimmering in the morning light. We were streaming off in -Indian file along a very excellent road, like that on which we had -ridden up from Megalopolis two days before, and which promised well for -a speedy removal of the apprehensions awakened by Bædeker. But the road -did not last long. Before we had fairly lost Andhritsæna in the hills -behind, the leading guide turned sharply to the left, through a rocky -defile in the hillside, and precipitated us down one of those rocky -torrent beds, with the nature of which we had become only too familiar -the day before. It was the less disturbing this time, however, because -we had learned to trust implicitly to the careful feet of our horses, -with no more than a firm grip on bridle and pommel and an occasional -soft whistle, or murmured "ochs', ochs'," to the intelligent beasts as -an outward and audible sign of inward and spiritual perturbation. It was -steep but short, and we came out below upon the road again, to -everybody’s unconcealed delight. - -The road, however, soon lost itself in a meadow. When it is ultimately -finished, the journey will be much easier than we found it. In a few -years I suppose it will be perfectly possible to ride to Olympia in a -carriage, and the horseback problem will cease to deter visitors to -Bassæ from continuing their journey westward. The way now lay along a -pleasant and rolling meadow country, dotted with primitive farms, which -glowed under the bright morning sun. We splashed through a narrow upland -river and up another rocky ascent, beyond which another downward pitch -carried us to a still lower meadow. Meantime the cold of morning gave -place to a growing warmth, and the wraps became saddle blankets in short -order. We rode and walked alternately, choosing the level stretches -through the grass for pedestrianism and riding only when we came to -sharp upward climbs, thus easing the fatigue that we should otherwise -have found in continued riding. Always we could see the imposing peaks -to the north, and the downward tendency of the trail soon brought out -the altitude of the hills behind Andhritsæna. The immediate vicinity of -our path was pastoral and agricultural, in the main, for the recurring -ridges over which we scrambled served only as boundaries between -well-watered vales in which small trees and bushes flourished, and where -the occasional sharp whir of pressure from a primitive penstock called -attention to the presence of a water mill. Aside from these isolated -mills there was little sign of habitation, for the fields seemed mostly -grown up to grass. In the far distance we could see the valley of the -Alpheios, broadening out of its confining walls of rock to what seemed -like a sandy reach in the plain far below, and we were told that at -nightfall we should be ferried across it close to Olympia, provided we -caught the boatmen before they left for home. It was this anxiety to be -on time that led Spyros to urge us along, lest when we came out at the -bank of the river we should find no response to the ferryman’s call of -"Varka! Varka!"—the common mode of hailing boatmen in Greece. With this -for a spur we wasted little time on the way, but proceeded steadily, now -riding, now walking, up hill and down dale, through groves of low -acacias or Judas trees, or along grassy meadows where a profusion of -wild flowers added a touch of color to the green. - -The pleasant valley, however, proved not to be the road for very long. -In an hour or so the guides branched off again into a range of hills -that seemed as high as those we had left, and there entered a tortuous -ravine worn by a mountain brook, along which the path wound higher and -higher toward a distant house which the muleteers pointed out and -pronounced to be a "ξενοδοχεῖον,"—the Professor had long ago learned to -call it "Senator Sheehan,"—at which wayside inn the mistaken impression -prevailed that we were speedily to lunch. It was not so to be, however. -When we had achieved the height and rested under two leafy plane trees -that we found there, Spyros repeated his tale about the ferrymen and -their departure at sundown; and we must away at once, with no more -refreshment than was to be drawn from some crackers and a bottle of -Solon. And so we pressed on again, still climbing, though more -gradually. The path was not so bad after all, despite the Bædeker, and -in one place we voted it easily the finest spot we had found in all our -Peloponnesian rambles. We were riding along at the time through a shady -grove when we came suddenly upon a collection of mammoth planes, whose -branches spread far and wide, and from the midst of the cleft side of -one of them a spring bubbled forth joyously, flooding the road. It was -here that the king on one of his journeys the year before had stopped to -rest and partake of his noonday meal. It seemed to us, famished by six -hours of hard riding, that the king’s example was one all good citizens -should follow; but Spyros was inexorable, and reminded us that ferrymen -might wait for the King of Greece, but not for any lesser personages -whatsoever. We must not halt until we got to Gremka; for at Gremka we -should find a good road, and beyond there it was four hours of travel, -and we might judge exactly how much time we had for rest by the hour of -our reaching the place. So we obediently proceeded, joined now by two -more beasts so laden with the empty oil-cans common to the region that -only their legs were visible. These furnished the comedy element in the -day’s experiences, for the donkeys thus loaded proved to be contrary -little creatures, always getting off the trail and careering down the -mountain-side through the scrubby trees and bushes, their deck-loads of -tin making a merry din as they crashed through the underbrush, while our -guides roared with derisive laughter at the discomfiture of the harassed -attendants. When not engaged in ridiculing the owners of those numerous -and troublesome oil-cans, the muleteers sang antiphonally some music in -a minor key which Spyros said was a wedding song wherein the bridegroom -and the bride’s family interchange sentiments. This seems to be the -regular diversion of muleteers, judging by the unanimity with which -travelers in Greece relate the experience. Anon our muleteers would -likewise find amusement by stealing around behind and administering an -unexpected smack on the plump buttocks of the horses, with the -inevitable result of starting the beast out of his meditative amble into -something remotely resembling a canter, and eliciting an alarmed squeal -from the rider—at which the muleteer, with the most innocent face in the -world, would appear under the horse’s nose and grasp the bridle, -assuring the frightened equestrian that the beast was "kalà"—or “all -right.” - -All the steeds were small with the exception of the altitudinous mule -ridden by one of the ladies, and they were not at all bothered by the -low branches of the trees through which we wended our way. Not so, -however, the riders. The thorny branches that just cleared the -nonchalant horse’s head swept over the saddle with uncompromising vigor, -and the effort to swing the beast away from one tree meant encountering -similar difficulties on the other side of the narrow path. Through this -arboreal Scylla and Charybdis it was extremely difficult navigation and -the horses took no interest in our plight at all, so that long before we -emerged from the last of the groves along the way we were a beraveled -and bescratched company. - -Shortly after noon two villages appeared far ahead, and we were engaged -in speculating as to which one was Gremka, when the guides suddenly -turned again and shot straight up the hill toward a narrow defile in the -mountain wall we had been skirting. It proved as narrow as a chimney and -almost as steep, and for a few moments we scrambled sharply, our little -horses struggling hard to get their burdens up the grade; but at last -they gained the top, and we emerged from between two walls of towering -rock into another and even fairer landscape. The plain of the Alpheios -spread directly below, but we were not allowed to descend to it. Instead -we actually began to climb, and for an hour or two more we rode along -the side of the range of hills through the midst of which we had just -penetrated. The path was pleasantly wooded, and the foliage was thick -enough to afford a grateful shade above and a soft carpeting of dead -leaves below. The air was heavy with the balsamic fragrance of the -boughs, and the birds sang merrily although it was midday. Through the -vistas that opened in this delightful grove we got recurring glimpses of -the Erymanthus range, now separated from us only by the miles of open -plain, and vastly impressive in their ruggedness. - -The sides of the range of hills along which our path wound were -corrugated again and again by ravines, worn by the brooks, and our -progress was a continual rising and falling in consequence. The footing -was slippery, due to the minute particles of reddish gravel and sand, so -that here even our mountain horses slipped and stumbled, and we were -warned to dismount and pick our own way down, which we did, shouting -gayly “Varka! Varka!” at the crossing of every absurd little three-inch -brook, to the intense enjoyment of the muleteers. And thus by two in the -afternoon we arrived at Gremka, a poor little hamlet almost at the edge -of the great plain, and were told that we had made splendid time, so -that we might have almost an hour of rest, while Stathi unlimbered the -sumpter mules and spread luncheon under two pleasant plane trees beside -a real spring. - -From Gremka on, we found the road again. It was almost absolutely level -after we left the minor foothill on which Gremka sits, and for the -remainder of our day we were to all intents and purposes in civilization -again. Curiously enough, it was here that our little horses, that had -been so admirably reliable in precipitous trails of loose rock and sand, -began to stumble occasionally, as if careless now that the road was -smooth and doubtless somewhat weary with the miles of climbing and -descending. The guides and muleteers, refreshed with a little food and a -vast amount of resinated wine, began to sing marriage music louder than -ever, and the most imposing figure of all, a man who in every-day life -was a butcher and who carried his huge cleaver thrust in his leathern -belt, essayed to converse with us in modern Greek, but with indifferent -success. The landscape, while no longer rugged, was pleasant and -peaceful as the road wound about the valley through low hillocks and -knolls crowned with little groves of pine, the broad lower reaches of -the rivers testifying that we were nearing the sea. And at last, toward -sunset, we swung in a long line down over the sands that skirt the -rushing Alpheios and came to rest on the banks opposite Olympia, whose -hotels we could easily see across the swelling flood. - -The Alpheios is not to be despised as a river in April. It is not -especially wide, but it has what a good many Greek rivers do not,—water, -and plenty of it, running a swift course between the low banks of the -south and the steeper bluffs that confine it on the Olympia side. The -ferry was waiting. It proved to be a sizable boat, of the general shape -of a coastwise schooner, but devoid of masts, and mainly hollow, save -for a little deck fore and aft. Three voluble and, as it proved, -rapacious natives manned it, the motive power being poles. With these -ferrymen Spyros and Stathi almost immediately became involved in a -furious controversy, aided by our cohort of muleteers. It did not -surprise us greatly, and knowing that whatever happened we should be -financially scathless, we sat down on the bank and skipped pebbles in -the water. It developed that the boatman had demanded thrice his fee, -and that Spyros, who had no illusions about departed spirits, objected -strenuously to being gouged in this way and was protesting vehemently -and volubly, while Stathi, whose exterior was ordinarily so calm, was -positively terrible to behold as he danced about the gesticulating knot -of men. It finally became so serious that the Professor and I, looking -as fierce as we could, ranged ourselves alongside, mentioning a wholly -mythical intimacy with the head of the Hellenic police department in the -hope of promoting a wholesome spirit of compromise, but really more -anxious to calm the excited cook, who was clamoring for the tools of his -trade that he might dispatch these thrice-qualified knaves of boatmen -then and there. Eventually, as tending to induce a cessation of -hostilities, we cast off the mooring—whereat the dispute suddenly ended -and the beasts of burden went aboard. So also did the Professor, who was -anxious to establish a strategic base on the opposite bank; and the rest -of us sat and watched the craft pushed painfully out into the stream and -well up against the current, until a point was reached whence the force -of the river took her and bore her madly down to her berth on the -Olympia bank. Here fresh difficulties arose,—not financial but -mechanical. The heavily loaded little donkeys proved utterly unable to -step over the gunwale and get ashore. It was an inspiring sight to -watch, the Professor tugging manfully at the bridle and the remainder of -the crew boosting with might and main; but it was of no avail, although -they wrought mightily, until at the psychological moment and in the spot -most fitted to receive it, a muleteer gave the needed impetus by a -prodigious kick, which lifted the patient ass over the side and out on -the bank. The rest was easy. We were ferried over in our turn and -disappeared from the view of the boatmen, each side expressing its -opinion of the other in terms which we gathered from the tones employed -were the diametrical reverse of complimentary. It was twelve hours to a -dot from the time of our departure from Andhritsæna when we strolled -into our hotel—at which fact Spyros plumed himself not a little. - -[Illustration: HERÆUM. OLYMPIA] - -It had not been an unduly fatiguing day, after all. The frequent walking -that we had done served to break up the tedium of long riding, which -otherwise would have been productive of numb limbs and stiff joints. It -is well to bear this in mind, for I have seen unaccustomed riders -assisted from their saddles after too long jaunts utterly unable to -stand, and of course much less to walk, until a long period of rest had -restored the circulation in the idle members. Fortunately, too, we had -been blessed with an incomparable day. Spyros confessed that he had -secretly dreaded a rain, which would have made the path dangerous in -spots where it was narrow and composed of clay. As it was, we arrived in -Olympia in surprisingly good condition, and on schedule time, though by -no means unready to welcome real beds again and the chance for unlimited -warm water. - -Olympia, like Delphi, is a place of memories chiefly. The visible -remains are numerous, but so flat that some little technical knowledge -is needed to restore them in mind. There is no village at the modern -Olympia at all,—nothing but five or six little inns and a railway -station,—so that Delphi really has the advantage of Olympia in this -regard. As a site connected with ancient Greek history and Greek -religion, the two places are as similar in nature as they are in general -ruin. The field in which the ancient structures stand lies just across -the tiny tributary river Cladeus, spanned by a footbridge. - -Even from the opposite bank, the ruins present a most interesting -picture, with its attractiveness greatly enhanced by the neighboring -pines, which scatter themselves through the precinct itself and cover -densely the little conical hill of Kronos close by, while the grasses of -the plain grow luxuriantly among the fallen stones of the former temples -and apartments of the athletes. The ruins are so numerous and so -prostrate that the non-technical visitor is seriously embarrassed to -describe them, as is the case with every site of the kind. All the -ruins, practically, have been identified and explained, and naturally -they all have to do with the housing or with the contests of the -visiting athletes of ancient times, or with the worship of tutelary -divinities. Almost the first extensive ruin that we found on passing the -encircling precinct wall was the Prytaneum—a sort of ancient training -table at which victorious contestants were maintained gratis—while -beyond lay other equally extensive remnants of exercising places, such -as the Palæstra for the wrestlers. But all these were dominated, -evidently, by the two great temples, an ancient one of comparatively -small size sacred to Hera, and a mammoth edifice dedicated to Zeus, -which still gives evidence of its enormous extent, while the fallen -column-drums reveal some idea of the other proportions. It was in its -day the chief glory of the inclosure, and the statue of the god was even -reckoned among the seven wonders of the world. Unfortunately this -statue, like that of Athena at Athens, has been irretrievably lost. But -there is enough of the great shrine standing in the midst of the ruins -to inspire one with an idea of its greatness; and, in the museum above, -the heroic figures from its two pediments have been restored and set up -in such wise as to reproduce the external adornment of the temple with -remarkable success. Gathered around this central building, the remainder -of the ancient structures having to do with the peculiar uses of the -spot present a bewildering array of broken stones and marbles. An -obtrusive remnant of a Byzantine church is the one discordant feature. -Aside from this the precinct recalls only the distant time when the -regular games called all Greece to Olympia, while the “peace of God” -prevailed throughout the kingdom. Just at the foot of Kronos a long -terrace and flight of steps mark the position of a row of old -treasuries, as at Delphi, while along the eastern side of the precinct -are to be seen the remains of a portico once famous for its echoes, -where sat the judges who distributed the prizes. There is also a most -graceful arch remaining to mark the entrance to the ancient stadium, of -which nothing else now remains. Of the later structures on the site, the -“house of Nero” is the most interesting and extensive. The Olympic games -were still celebrated, even after the Roman domination, and Nero himself -entered the lists in his own reign. He caused a palace to be erected for -him on that occasion—and of course he won a victory, for any other -outcome would have been most impolite, not to say dangerous. Nero was -more fortunately lodged than were the other ancient contestants, it -appears, for there were no hostelries in old Olympia in which the -visiting multitudes could be housed, and the athletes and spectators who -came from all over the land were accustomed to bring their own tents and -pitch them roundabout, many of them on the farther side of the Alpheios. - -[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO THE STADIUM. OLYMPIA] - -The many treasuries, to which reference has been made as running along -the terrace wall at the very foot of the hill of Kronos, are spoken of -by Pausanias. Enough of them is occasionally to be found to enable one -to judge how they appeared—somewhat, no doubt, like the so-called -“treasury of the Athenians” that one may see in a restored form at -Delphi. In these tiny buildings were kept the smaller votive gifts of -the various states and the apparatus for the games. Not far from this -row of foundations and close by the terrace wall that leads along the -hill down to the arch that marks the stadium entrance, are several bases -on which stood bronze statues of Zeus, set up by the use of moneys -derived from fines for fracturing the rules of the games. Various -ancient athletes achieved a doubtful celebrity by having to erect these -“Zanes,” as they were called, one of them being a memorial of the arrant -coward Sarapion of Alexandria, who was so frightened at the prospect of -entering the pankration for which he had set down his name that he fled -the day before the contest. - -Within the precinct one may still see fragments of the pedestal which -supported Phidias’s wonderful gold-and-ivory image of Zeus. The god -himself is said to have been so enchanted with the sculptor’s work that -he hurled a thunderbolt down, which struck near the statue; and the spot -was marked with a vase of marble. Just how approval was spelled out of -so equivocal a manifestation might seem rather difficult to see; but -such at any rate was the fact. Of the other remaining bases, the most -interesting is doubtless the tall triangular pedestal of the Niké of -Pæonius, still to be seen _in situ_, though its graceful statue is in -the museum. - -Just above the meadows on the farther bank, there runs a range of hills, -through which we had but recently ridden. And it was there that the -ancients found a convenient crag from which to hurl the unfortunate -women who dared venture to look on at the games. The law provided that -no woman’s eye should see those contests, and so far as is known only -one woman caught breaking this law ever escaped the penalty of it. She -was the mother of so many victorious athletes that an unwonted immunity -was extended to her. Other women, whose disguise was penetrated, were -made stern examples to frighten future venturesome maids and matrons out -of seeking to view what was forbidden. - -The games at Olympia were celebrated during a period of about a thousand -years, throughout which time they furnished the one recognized system of -dates. They recurred at four-year intervals. Long before the appointed -month of the games, which were always held in midsummer, duly accredited -ambassadors were sent forth to all the cities and states of Hellas to -announce the coming of the event and to proclaim the “peace of God,” -which the law decreed should prevail during the days of the contest, and -in which it was sacrilege not to join, whatever the exigency. On the -appointed date the cities of all Greece sent the flower of their youth -to Olympia, runners, wrestlers, discus throwers, chariot drivers, -boxers, and the like, as well as their choicest horses, to contend for -the coveted trophy. During the first thirteen Olympiads there was but -one athletic event,—a running race. In later times the number was added -to until the race had grown to a “pentathlon,” or contest of five kinds, -and still later to include twenty-four different exercises. None but -Greeks of pure blood could contest, at least until the Roman times, and -nobles and plebeians vied in striving for the victor’s wreath, although -the richer were at a decided advantage in the matter of the horse races. -The prize offered, however, was of no intrinsic value at all, being -nothing but a crown of wild olive, and it astonished and dismayed the -invading Persians not a little to find that they were being led against -a nation that would strive so earnestly and steadfastly for a prize that -seemed so little. As a matter of fact it was not as slight a reward as -it appeared to be, for in the incidental honors that it carried the -world has seldom seen its equal. The man who proved his right to be -crowned with this simple wreath was not only regarded as honored in -himself, but honor was imputed to his family and to his city as well; -and the city generally went wild with enthusiasm over him, some even -going so far as to raze their walls in token that with so gallant sons -they needed no bulwarks. Special privileges were conferred upon him at -home and even abroad. In many cities the victor of an Olympic contest -was entitled to maintenance at the public charge in the utmost honor, -and the greatest poets of the day delighted to celebrate the victors in -their stateliest odes. Thus, although games in honor of the gods were -held at various other points in Greece, as for example at Delphi and at -the isthmus of Corinth, none surpassed the Olympic as a national -institution, sharing the highest honors with the oracle at Delphi as an -object of universal reverence. - -Of course the origin of these great games is shrouded in mystery, which -has, as usual, crystallized into legend. And as the pediment in one end -of the temple of the Olympian Zeus, preserved in the museum near by, -deals with this story, it may be in order to speak of it. Tradition -relates that King [OE]nomaus had a splendid stud of race horses of which -he was justly proud, and likewise was possessed of a surpassingly -beautiful daughter whom men called Hippodameia, who was naturally sought -in marriage by eligible young men from all around. The condition -precedent set by [OE]nomaus to giving her hand was, however, a difficult -one. The suitor must race his horses against those of [OE]nomaus, -driving the team himself; and if he lost he was put to death. One -version relates that [OE]nomaus, if he found himself being distanced, -was wont to spear the luckless swains from behind. At any rate nobody -had succeeded in winning Hippodameia when young Pelops came along and -entered the contest. He had no doubt heard of the king’s unsportsmanlike -javelin tactics, for he adopted some subterfuges of his own,—doing -something or other to the chariot of his opponent, such as loosening a -linchpin or bribing his charioteer to weaken it in some other part,—with -the result that when the race came off [OE]nomaus was thrown out and -killed, and Pelops won the race and Hippodameia—and of course lived -happily ever after. - -The pedimental sculptures from the great temple reproduce the scene that -preceded the race in figures of heroic size, with no less a personage -than Zeus himself in the centre of the group, while [OE]nomaus and -Pelops with their chariots and horses and their attendants range -themselves on either side, and Hippodameia stands expectantly waiting. -The restorations have been liberal, but on the whole successful; and -besides giving a very good idea of the legend itself, they are highly -interesting from a sculptural point of view as showing a distinctive -style of carving in marble. The other pediment, preserved in about the -same proportion, is less interesting from a legendary standpoint, but is -full of animation and artistic interest. It represents the contest -between the Centaurs and Lapiths, with Apollo just in the act of -intervening to prevent the rape of the Lapith women. This episode had -little appropriateness to the Olympic site, so far as I know, but the -ease with which the Centaur lent himself to the limitations of -pedimental sculpture might well explain the adoption of the incident -here. The head of Apollo is of the interesting type with which one grows -familiar in going through museums devoted to early work, the most -notable thing being the curious treatment of hair and eyes. - -The precinct about the great temple was once filled with votive statues, -and Pliny relates that he counted something like three thousand. Of -these it appears that few remain sufficiently whole to add much -interest. But out of all the great assemblage of sculptures there is one -at least surviving that must forever assuage any grief at the loss of -the rest. That, of course, is the inimitable Hermes of Praxiteles, which -everybody knows through reproductions and photographs, but which in the -original is so incomparably beautiful that no reproduction can hope to -give an adequate idea of it, either in the expression of body and -features, its poise and grace, or in the exquisite sheen of marble. They -have wisely set it off by itself in a room which cannot be seen from the -great main hall of the museum, and the observer is left to contemplate -it undistracted. It seems generally to be agreed that it is the -masterpiece of extant Greek sculpture. It is nearly perfect in its -preservation, the upraised arm and small portions of the legs being -about all that is missing. The latter have been supplied, not -unsuccessfully, to join the admirable feet to the rest. No effort has -been made, and happily so, to supply the missing arm. The infant -Dionysus perched on the left arm is no great addition to the statue, and -one might well wish it were not there; but even this slight drawback -cannot interfere with the admiration one feels for so perfect a work. -Hermes alone fully justifies the journey to Olympia, and once seen he -will never be forgotten. The satin smoothness of the marble admirably -simulates human (or god-like) flesh, doubtless because of the processes -which the Greeks knew of rubbing it down with a preparation of wax. No -trace of other external treatment survives, save a faint indication of -gilding on the sandals. If the hair and eyes were ever painted, the -paint has entirely disappeared in the centuries that the statue lay -buried in the sands that the restless Alpheios and Cladeus washed into -the sacred inclosure. For the rivers frequently left their narrow beds -in former times and invaded the precincts of the gods, despite the -efforts of man to wall them out. They have done irreparable damage to -the buildings there, but since they at the same time preserved Hermes -almost intact for modern eyes to enjoy, perhaps their other vandalisms -may be pardoned. - -The museum also includes among its treasures a number of the metopes -from the great temple of Zeus, representing the labors of Hercules. But -probably next after the incomparable Hermes must be reckoned the Niké of -Pæonius, standing on a high pedestal at one end of the great main hall, -and seemingly sweeping triumphantly through space with her draperies -flowing free—a wonderful lightness being suggested despite the weight of -the material. This Niké has always seemed to me a fair rival of her more -famous sister from Samothrace, suggesting the idea of victory even more -forcibly than the statue on the staircase of the Louvre, which has an -Amazonian quality suggestive of actual conflict rather than a past -successful issue. The unfortunate circumstance about the Niké at Olympia -is that her head is gone, and they have sought to suspend the recovered -portion of it over the body by an iron rod. A wrist is in like manner -appended to one of the arms, and the two give a jarring note, by -recalling Ichabod Crane and Cap'n Cuttle in most incongruous -surroundings. Nevertheless the Niké is wonderful, and would be more so -if it were not for these lamentable attempts to restore what is not -possible to be restored. - -Of all the many little collections in Greece, that in Olympia is -doubtless the best, and it is fittingly housed in a building in the -classic style, given by a patriotic Greek, M. Syngros. Aside from the -artistic remnants, there are a number of relics bearing on the athletic -aspect of Olympia—its chief side, of course. And among these are some -ancient discs of metal and stone, and a huge rock which bears an -inscription relating that a certain strong man of ancient times was able -to lift it over his head and to toss it a stated distance. It seems -incredible—but there were giants in the land in those days. - -The modern Olympic games, such as are held in Athens every now and then, -are but feeble attempts to give a classic tone to a very ordinary -athletic meet of international character. There is none of the -significance attached to the modern events that attended the old, and -the management leaves much to be desired. Former visitors are no longer -maintained at the Prytaneum; but, on the contrary, are even denied -passes to witness the struggles of their successors. The games fill -Athens with a profitable throng and serve to advertise the country, but -aside from this they have no excuse for being on Greek soil, and mar the -land so far as concerns the enjoyment of true Philhellenes. Fortunately -there is no possible chance of holding any such substitute games at -Olympia herself. Her glory has departed forever, save as it survives in -memory. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XIV. THE ISLES OF - GREECE: DELOS - -[Illustration] - - -It was a gray morning—for Greece. The sky was overcast, the wind blew -chill from the north, and anon the rain would set in and give us a few -moments of downpour, only to cease again and permit a brief glimpse -ahead across the Ægean, into which classic sea our little steamer was -thrusting her blunt nose, rising and falling on the heavy swell. We had -borne around Sunium in the early dawn, and our course was now in an -easterly direction toward the once famous but now entirely deserted -island of Delos, the centre of the Cyclades. Ahead, whenever the murk -lifted, we could see several of the nearer and larger islands of the -group,—that imposing row of submerged mountain peaks that reveal the -continuation of the Attic peninsula under water as it streams away to -the southeast from the promontory of Sunium. The seeming chaos of the -Grecian archipelago is easily reducible to something like order by -keeping this fact in mind. It is really composed of two parallel -submerged mountain ranges, the prolongations of Attica and of Eub[oe]a -respectively, the summits of which pierce the surface of the water again -and again, forming the islands which every schoolboy recalls as having -names that end in “os.” Just before us, in a row looming through the -drifting rain, we saw Kythnos, Seriphos, and Siphnos, while beyond them, -and belonging to the other ridge, the chart revealed Andros, Tenos, -Naxos, Mykonos, and Paros, as yet impossible of actual sight. This -galaxy of islands must have proved highly useful to the ancient -mariners, no doubt, since by reason of their numbers and proximity to -each other and to the mainland, as well as by reason of their -distinctive shapes and contours, it was possible always to keep some -sort of landmark in sight, as was highly desirable in days when sailors -knew nothing of compasses and steered only by the stars. Lovers of -Browning will recall the embarrassment that overtook the Rhodian bark -that set sail with Balaustion for Athens, only to lose all reckoning and -bring up in Syracuse. No ancient ship was at all sure of accurate -navigation without frequent landfalls, and even the hardy mariners of -Athens were accustomed, when en route to Sicily, to hug the rugged -shores of the Peloponnesus all the way around to the opening of the -Corinthian Gulf, and thence to proceed to Corfu before venturing to -strike off westward across the Adriatic to the “heel” of Italy, where -one could skirt the shore again until Sicily hove in sight near the -dreaded haunts of Scylla. Of course other considerations, such as food -and water, added to the desirability of keeping the land in sight most -of the time on so long a voyage; but not the least important of the -reasons was the necessity of keeping on the right road. - -We had set sail on a chartered ship, in a party numbering about forty, -most of whom were bent on the serious consideration of things -archæological, while the inconsiderable remainder were unblushingly in -search of pleasure only slightly tinged by scientific enthusiasm. In no -other way, indeed, could such a journey be made in anything like -comfort. The Greek steamers, while numerous, are slow and small, and not -to be recommended for cleanliness or convenience; while their stated -routes include much that is of no especial interest to visitors, who are -chiefly eager to view scenes made glorious by past celebrity, and are -less concerned with the modern seaports devoted to a prosaic traffic in -wine and fruits. To one fortunate enough to be able to number himself -among those who go down to the sea in yachts, the Ægean furnishes a -fruitful source of pleasure. To us, the only recourse was to the native -lines of freight and passenger craft, or to join ourselves to a party of -investigators who were taking an annual cruise among the famous ancient -sites. We chose the latter, not merely because of the better opportunity -to visit the islands we had long most wished to see, but because of the -admirable opportunity to derive instruction as well as pleasure from the -voyage. So behold us in our own ship, with our own supplies, our own -sailing master and crew, sailing eastward over a gray sea, through the -spring showers, toward the barren isle where Ph[oe]bus sprung. - -Delos is easy enough to find now, small as it is. It long ago ceased to -be the floating island that legend describes. If we can permit ourselves -a little indulgence in paganism, we may believe that this rocky islet -was a chip, broken from the bed of the ocean by Poseidon, which was -floating about at random until Zeus anchored it to afford a bed for -Leto, that she might be comfortably couched at the birth of Apollo, -despite the promise of Earth that the guilty Leto should have no place -to lay her head. Thus the vow which the jealousy of Hera had procured -was brought to naught, and in Delos was born the most celebrated of the -sons of Zeus, together with his twin sister, Artemis. - -Delos is in fact a double island, divided by a narrow strait into -Greater and Lesser Delos. And it was with the lesser portion that we had -to do, as also did ancient history. For despite its insignificant size -and remoteness, Delos the Less was once a chief seat of empire and a -great and flourishing city, as well as the repository of vast wealth. -Distant as it seems from Athens, the island is really quite central with -reference to the rest of the archipelago, and from its low summit may be -seen most of the Cyclades on a clear day. The narrow strait before -referred to furnishes about all the harbor that is to be found at Delos -to-day. Into this sheltered bit of water we steamed and dropped anchor, -happy in the favoring wind that allowed us a landing where it is -occasionally difficult to find water sufficiently smooth for the small -boats; for here, as in all Greek waters, small boats furnish the only -means of getting ashore. There was a shallow basin just before what was -once the ancient city, and doubtless it was considered good harborage -for the triremes and galleys of small draught; but for even a small -steamer like ours it was quite insufficient in depth, and we came to -rest perhaps a quarter of a mile from the landing, while the clouds -broke and the afternoon sun came out warm and bright as we clambered -down to the dories and pulled for the shore. - -There proved to be little or no habitation save for the French -excavators and their men, who were completing a notable work in -uncovering not only the ancient precincts of Apollo and of the -headquarters of the Delian league, but the residence portion of the -ancient city as well, which we later discovered to lie off to the east -on the high ground. We landed on a sort of rocky mole erected along the -edge of what was once the sacred harbor and picked our way along a -narrow-gauge track used by the excavators, to the maze of ruins that lay -beyond. It proved as bewildering a mass of fallen marbles as that at -Olympia. The main part of the ruin is apparently a relic of the -religious side of the place, dominated, of course, by the cult of -Apollo. Centuries of reverence had contributed to the enrichment of the -environs of the shrine. All about the visitor finds traces of porticoes -and propylæa, the largest of these being erected by Philip V. of -Macedon, as is testified to by an extant inscription. Little remains -standing of any of the buildings, but the bits of capital and -entablature that lie strewn about serve to give a faint idea of the -nature of the adornment that attended the temples in their prime. It is -not difficult to trace the course of the sacred way leading from the -entrance around the sacred precinct to the eastern façade of the main -temples, lined throughout most of its course by the bases of statues, -altars, and remnants of the foundations of small rectangular buildings -which are supposed to have been treasuries, as at Delphi and Olympia. -Not far away from the main temple of the god is still to be seen the -base of his colossal statue, an inscription reciting that the Naxians -made it, and that they carved statue and base from the same stone. -Whether this means that the figure and base were actually a single -block, or only that the figure and base were made of the same specific -material, has caused some little speculation. As for the statue itself, -there are at least two large fragments on the ground not far away, -easily identified by the modeling as parts of the huge back and breast -of the colossus. One of his feet is preserved in the British Museum, and -a hand is at the neighboring island of Mykonos. The rest is either -buried in the earth near by, or has been carried off by vandals. That -the earth has many treasures still to yield up is evident by the -occasional accidental discoveries recently made on the site by the -diggers. When we were there the construction of a trench for the -diminutive car-track had unearthed a beautifully sculptured lion deep in -the soil; and since that time I have heard that several other similar -finds have been made. So it may be that the lime burners have not made -away with the great Apollo entirely. - -There are three temples, presumably all devoted to the cult of Apollo, -and one of them no doubt to the memory of his unfortunate mother, Leto, -who bore him, according to tradition, on the shores of the sacred lake -near by. Not far from the Apollo group are two other ruined shrines, -supposed to have been sacred to Artemis. More interesting than either, -however, to the layman is the famous “hall of the bulls,” which is the -largest and best preserved of all the buildings, and which takes its -name from the carved bullocks on its capitals. It is not saying much, -however, to say that it is better preserved than the others. It is only -so in the sense that its extent and general plan are easier to trace. -Its altar, known as the “horned altar of Apollo,” from the rams’ heads -with which it was adorned, was accounted by the ancients one of the -seven wonders of the world. We were well content to leave the sacred -precinct, and to wander along toward the north, past the Roman agora, in -the general direction of the sacred lake. It proved to be a sorry pool, -stagnant and unattractive compared with what it must have been when it -was in its prime, with its banks adorned with curbing. Not far from its -shores we were shown the remains of several ancient houses, also of the -Roman period, in which the rooms were still divided by walls of a -considerable height. These walls gave occasional evidence of having been -adorned with stucco and frescoes, and the rooms revealed fragments of -tessellated pavement, while under each house was a capacious cistern for -the preservation of rain water. Of course these dwellings, while -recalling Pompeii, were far less perfect in the way of artistic -revelations, being so much older. - -These houses, interesting as they were, did not compare with those which -we were later shown on the hill above the precinct. These we passed on -our way up to the theatre, and to those of us who were unskilled in -archæological science they proved to be the most absorbing of all the -ruins on the little island. There are a good many of them, lining -several old streets, as at Pompeii. Their walls are of sufficient -altitude to give even an idea of the upper stories, and in one case, at -least, we were able to mount, by a sadly ruined stone staircase, to what -was once the upper landing. The general arrangement of the rooms was -quite similar to that made familiar by the excavated houses at Pompeii, -the great central court, or atrium, being adorned with a most remarkable -mosaic representing Dionysos riding on a dragon of ferocious mien. It is -kept covered, but a guard obligingly raised the heavy wooden door that -shields it from the weather, and propped it up with a stick so that it -resembled nothing so much as a huge piano lid. The coloring of the -mosaic was lively in spite of its sombreness, and the eyes of the -figures were admirably executed. - -All around the atrium were traces of a colonnade, pieces of the columns -remaining intact. The walls were apparently decorated with bits of stone -set deep in a coating of mortar, and once adorned with a colored wash of -red, yellow, and blue. Mural paintings naturally were wanting, for these -houses were not only older than those of the Neapolitan suburb, but they -perished by a slow weathering process instead of by a sudden -overwhelming such as overtook Pompeii. What traces of painting there are -left on the Delian walls are indistinct and rather unsatisfactory, and -recall the childish scrawls of our own day. But the houses themselves, -with their occasional pavements and the one admirable mosaic, leave -little to be desired. Particularly interesting was the revelation of the -drainage system. The houses were not only carefully provided with deep -cisterns for preserving rain water; they had also well-designed channels -for carrying waste water away. Every house in these streets had its -drain covered with flat stones running out to the main sewer of the -street, while those in turn converged in a trunk sewer at the foot of -the slope. It is evident enough that Delos was a dry sort of place, both -by nature and by artifice, and that in the period of the city’s greatest -celebrity it would be impossible for the historian to refer to the muddy -condition existing at that period of the month just before the streets -underwent their regular cleaning. - -We had passed well up toward the theatre on the slopes of the height -called Kythnos before we cleared the ancient dwellings. The theatre -itself proved to be roomy, but largely grass-grown and exceedingly steep -to clamber over. The portion devoted to seats was chiefly notable for -occupying considerably more than the traditional semicircle, and for -having its ends built up with huge walls of masonry. Only the lower -seats are preserved. The colonnaded proskenion, which may have supported -a stage, is, however, highly unusual and interesting. - -Sundry venturesome spirits climbed to the summit of Kythnos, but it was -no day for the view for which that eminence is celebrated. On a clearer -day a great many of the Cyclades could be seen, no doubt, because of the -central location of the island and the marvelous clarity of the Greek -atmosphere, when it is clear at all. We were unfortunate enough to meet -with a showery April day, which promised little in the way of distant -prospects. Halfway down the side of Kythnos, however, was easily to be -seen the grotto of Apollo. In fact, it is the most constantly visible -feature of the island. It is a sort of artificial cave in the side of -the hill toward the ruins, and here was the earliest of the temples to -the god. Ancient hands added to what natural grotto there was by -erecting a primitive portal for it. Two huge slabs of stone seem to have -been allowed to drop toward one another until they met, forming a mutual -support, so that the effect is that of a gable. Other slabs have been -arranged to form a pitch roof over the spot, and a marble lintel and -gate posts have also been added,—presumably much later than the rest. It -is even probable that this venerable shrine was also the seat of an -oracle, for certain of the internal arrangements of the grotto bear a -resemblance to those known to have existed at Delphi; but if there was -one in Delos, it never attained to the reputation that attended the -later chief home of the far-darting god. - -[Illustration: DELOS, SHOWING GROTTO] - -[Illustration: GROTTO OF APOLLO. DELOS] - -The births of Apollo and Artemis appear to have been deemed quite enough -for the celebrity of Delos; for in after years, when the Athenians felt -called upon to “purify” the city, they enacted that no mortal in the -future should be permitted to be born or to die on the island. In -consequence, temporary habitations were erected across the narrow strait -on the shores of Greater Delos for the use of those _in extremis_ or -those about to be confined. Aside from this fact, the larger island has -little or no interest to the visitor. - -There is, of course, a museum at Delos. Some day it will be a very -interesting one indeed. At the time of our visit it was only just -finished, and had not been provided with any floor but such as nature -gave. In due season it will probably rank with any for its archæological -value, although it will be infinitely less interesting than others to -inexpert visitors, who generally prefer statues of fair preservation to -small fragments and bits of inscription. Of the notable sculptures that -must have abounded in Delos once, comparatively little remains; -certainly nothing to compare with the charioteer and the Lysippus at -Delphi, or with the Hermes and pedimental figures at Olympia. The great -charm of Delos to the unskilled mind is to be found in its history and -in its beautiful surroundings. As a birthplace of one of the major gods -of high Olympus, the seat of the Delian league against the Persians, and -the original treasury of the Athenian empire, Delos has history enough -to satisfy an island many times her size. Traces still remain of the -dancing place where the Delian maidens performed their wonderful -evolutions during the annual pilgrimage, which was a feature during the -Athenian supremacy; and the temples and treasuries, ruined as they are, -forcibly recall the importance which once attached to the spot. The -memory still survives of the so-called “Delian problem” of the doubling -of the cube, a task that proved a poser for the ancient mathematicians -when the oracle propounded, as the price of staying a plague, that the -Delians should double the pedestal of Parian marble that stood in the -great temple. But it is almost entirely a place of memories, deserted by -all but the excavators and an occasional shepherd. To-day it is little -more than the bare rock that it was when Poseidon split it from the bed -of the sea. Apollo gave it an immortality, however, which does not wane -although Apollo himself is dead. Athens and Corinth gave it a worldly -celebrity, which proved but temporary so far as it depended on activity -in the world of affairs. Delos, washed by the Ægean, has little to look -forward to but to drowse the long tides idle, well content with her -crowded hour of glorious life, and satisfied that her neighbors should -have the age without a name. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XV. SAMOS AND THE - TEMPLE AT BRANCHIDÆ - -[Illustration] - - -The stiff north wind, which was known to be blowing outside, counseled -delaying departure from Delos until after the evening meal, for our -course to Samos lay through the trough of the sea. In the shelter of the -narrow channel between Greater and Lesser Delos the water was calm -enough to enable eating in comfort, and it was the commendable rule of -the cruise to seek shelter for meals, owing to the lack of “racks” to -prevent the contents of the tables from shifting when the vessel rolled. -Hence it was well along in the evening before the anchor was weighed; -and as the engines gave their first premonitory wheezes, word was passed -from the bridge that all who did not love rough weather would better -retire at once, as we were certain to “catch it” as soon as we rounded -the capes of the neighboring Mykonos and squared away for Samos across a -long stretch of open water. The warning served to bring home to us one -of the marked peculiarities about cruising in the Ægean, namely, the -succession of calm waters and tempestuous seas, which interlard -themselves like the streaks of fat and lean in the bacon from the -Irishman’s pig, which was fed to repletion one day and starved the next. -This, of course, is due to the numerous islands, never many miles apart, -which are forever affording shelter from the breezes and waves, only to -open up again and subject the craft to a rolling and boisterous sea as -it crosses the stretches of open channel between them. When the -experiences due to these sudden transitions were not trying, they were -likely to be amusing, we discovered, as was the case on one morning when -the tables had been laid for breakfast rather imprudently just before -rounding a windy promontory. The instant the ship felt the cross seas -she began to roll heavily, and the entire array of breakfast dishes -promptly left the unprotected table, only to crash heavily against the -stateroom doors that lined the saloon, eliciting shrieks from those -within; while the following roll of the vessel sent the débris careering -across the floor to bring up with equal resonance against the doors on -the other side, the stewards meantime being harassed beyond measure to -recover their scudding cups and saucers. - -In the morning of our arrival off Samos we found ourselves moving along -on an even keel, under the lee of that extensive island and close also -to the shores of Asia Minor, the famous promontory of Mykale looming -large and blue ahead. We coasted along the Samian shore, close enough to -distinguish even from a distance the ruins of the once famous Heræum, -which was among the objects of our visit. It was marked from afar by a -single gleaming column, rising apparently from the beach. For the -present we passed it by, the ship heading for the little white town -farther ahead and just opposite the bay made by the great bulk of -Mykale. It was historic ground, for it was at Mykale that the pursuing -Greeks, under Leotychides and Xantippus, made the final quietus of the -Persian army and navy in the year 479 B.C., just after Salamis, by the -final defeat of Tigranes. Mykale, however, we viewed only from afar. The -ship rounded the mole protecting the harbor of what was once the chief -city of Samos, and came to anchor for the first time in Turkish waters. -While the necessary official visits and examination of passports were -being made, there was abundant opportunity to inspect the port from the -deck. It lay at the base of a rugged mountain, and the buildings of the -city lined the diminutive harbor on two sides, curving along a low quay. -In general appearance the town recalled Canea, in Crete, by the -whiteness of its houses and the pale greenness of its shutters and the -occasional slender tower of a mosque. Technically Samos is a Turkish -island. Practically it is so only in the sense that it pays an annual -tribute to the Sultan and that its Greek governor is nominated by that -monarch. It was sufficiently Turkish, in any event, to require passports -and the official call of a tiny skiff flying the crescent flag and -bearing a resplendent local officer crowned with a red fez. The -formalities were all arranged by proxy ashore, and in due time the -ship’s boat returned, bearing the freedom of the city and a limited -supply of Samian cigarettes, which retailed at the modest sum of a franc -and a half the hundred. - -Herodotus devotes a considerable space to the history of the Samians in -the time of the Persian supremacy and especially to the deeds of the -tyrant Polycrates, who seized the power of the island and proved a -prosperous ruler. In fact the rampant successes of Polycrates alarmed -his friend and ally, King Amasis of Egypt, who had the wholesome dread -of the ancients for the “jealousy” of the gods; and in consequence -Amasis sent a messenger up to Samos to tell Polycrates that he was too -successful for his own good. Amasis was afraid, according to the -messenger, that some evil would overtake the Samian ruler, and he -advised Polycrates to cast away whatever thing he valued the most as a -propitiation of the gods. The advice so impressed Polycrates that he -recounted his possessions, selected a certain emerald seal-ring that he -cherished exceedingly, took it aboard a fifty-oared galley and, when -sufficiently far out at sea, hurled the treasured ring into the water. -Whereat he returned content that he had appeased the presumably jealous -gods. In less than a week a fisherman, who had taken an unusually -beautiful fish in those waters, presented it as a great honor to -Polycrates, and in dressing it for the table the servants found in its -belly the ring that Polycrates had tried so hard to cast away! The event -was held to be superhuman, and an account of it was promptly sent to -Amasis in Egypt. He, however, judging from it that Polycrates was -inevitably doomed by heaven, ended his alliance with Samos on the naïve -plea that he should be sorry to have anything happen to a friend, and -therefore proposed to make of Polycrates an enemy, that he need not -grieve when misfortune overtook him! Misfortune did indeed overtake -Polycrates, and Herodotus describes at some length how it occurred, -ending his discourse with the remark that he feels justified in dealing -at such length with the affairs of the Samians because they have -accomplished "three works, the greatest that have been achieved by all -the Greeks. The first is of a mountain, one hundred and fifty orgyiæ in -height, in which is dug a tunnel beginning at the base and having an -opening at either side of the mountain. The length of the tunnel is -seven stadia, and the height and breadth are eight feet respectively. -Through the whole length of the tunnel runs another excavation three -feet wide and twenty cubits deep, through which cutting the water, -conveyed by pipes, reaches the city, being drawn from a copious fount on -the farther side of the mountain. The architect of this excavation was a -Megarian, Eupalinus the son of Naustrophus. This, then, is one of the -three great works. The second is a mound in the sea around the harbor, -in depth about a hundred orgyiæ and in length about two stadia. The -third work of theirs is a great temple, the largest we ever have seen, -of which the architect was Rh[oe]cus, son of Phileos, a native Samian. -On account of these things I have dwelt longer on the affairs of the -Samians."[3] - ------ - -Footnote 3: - - Herodotus, Book III, section 60. - ------ - -It was, then, inside this mole, two stadia in length, that we were -anchored. Doubtless the modern mole is still standing on the ancient -foundation, but it would not be considered anything remarkable in the -way of engineering to-day, whatever it may have been deemed in the -childhood of the race. Something in the air of Samos must have bred a -race of natural engineers, no doubt, for not only were these artificial -wonders constructed there, but Pythagoras, the mathematical philosopher, -was born in the island. - -From the city up to the remnants of the ancient aqueduct in the mountain -is not a difficult climb, and the tunnel itself affords a great many -points of interest. In an age when tunneling was not a common or -well-understood art, it must indeed have seemed a great wonder that the -Samians were able to pierce the bowels of this considerable rocky height -to get a water supply that could not be cut off. The source of the -flowage was a spring located in the valley on the side of the mountain -away from the town, and it would have been perfectly possible to convey -the water to the city without any tunnel at all, merely by following the -valley around. For some reason this was deemed inexpedient—doubtless -because of the evident chance an enemy would have for cutting off the -supply. The obvious question is, what was gained by making the tunnel, -since the spring itself was in the open and could have been stopped as -readily as an open aqueduct? And the only answer that has been suggested -is that the spring alone is so concealed and so difficult to find that, -even with the clue given by Herodotus, it was next to impossible to -locate it. And in order to conceal the source still further, the burial -of the conduit in the heart of the mountain certainly contributed not a -little. Nevertheless it is a fact that the farther end of the tunnel was -discovered some years ago by tracing a line from the site of this -spring, so that now the aqueduct has been relocated and is found to be -substantially as described by Herodotus in the passage quoted. - -Most visitors, possessed of comparatively limited time like ourselves, -are content with inspecting only the town end of the tunnel, which lies -up in the side of the mountain. It is amply large enough to enter, but -tapers are needed to give light to the feet as one walks carefully, and -often sidewise, along the ledge that borders the deeper cutting below, -in which once ran the actual water pipes. The depth of the latter, which -Herodotus calls “twenty cubits,” is considerably greater at this end of -the tunnel than at the other,—a fact which is apparently accounted for -by the necessity of correcting errors of level, after the tunnel was -finished, to give sufficient pitch to carry the water down. In those -primitive days it is not surprising that such an error was made. There -is evidence that the tunnel was dug by two parties working from opposite -ends, as is the custom to-day. That they met in the centre of the -mountain with such general accuracy speaks well for the engineering -skill of the time, and that they allowed too little for the drop of the -stream is not at all strange. The result of this is that, in the end -commonly visited by travelers, there is need of caution lest the unwary -slip from the narrow ledge at the side into the supplementary cut thirty -feet below—a fall not to be despised, either because of its chance of -injury or because of the difficulty of getting the victim out again. So -much, as Herodotus would say, for the water-conduit of the Samians. - -From the tunnel down to the ancient Heræum, whither our ship had sailed -to await us, proved to be a walk of something over two miles along a -curving beach, across which occasional streams made their shallow way -from inland to the sea. It was a pleasant walk, despite occasional stony -stretches; for the rugged mountain chain inland presented constantly -changing views on the one hand, while on the other, across the deep blue -of the Ægean, rose the commanding heights of Asia Minor, stretching away -from the neighboring Mykale to the distant, and still snow-crowned, -peaks of the Latmian range. Under the morning sun the prospect was -indescribably lovely, particularly across the sea to the bold coasts of -Asia, the remote mountains being revealed in that delicate chiaroscuro -which so often attends white peaks against the blue. Ahead was always -the solitary column which is all that remains standing of the once vast -temple of Hera, “the largest we ever have seen,” according to the -ingenuous and truthful Herodotus. - -There is a reason for holding the spot in an especial manner sacred to -Hera, for it is said by legend that she was born on the banks of one of -the little streams whose waters we splashed through in crossing the -beach to her shrine. The temple itself we found to lie far back from the -water’s edge, its foundations so buried in the deposited earth that -considerable excavation has been necessary to reveal them. The one -remaining column is not complete, but is still fairly lofty. It bears no -capital, and its drums are slightly jostled out of place, so that it has -a rather unfinished look, to which its lack of fluting contributes; for, -as even the amateur knows, the fluting of Greek columns was never put on -until the whole pillar was set up, and every joint of it ground so fine -as to be invisible. We walked up to the ruin through the inevitable -cutting, in which lay the inevitable narrow-gauge track for the -excavator’s cars, but there was no activity to be seen. The excavation -had progressed so far as to leave little more to be done, or there was -no more money, or something had intervened to put an end to the -operations for the time. Not far away, however, along the beach, lay a -few houses, which constituted the habitation of the diggers and of a few -fishermen, whose seine boats were being warped up as we passed. - -The exploration of the great temple of Hera has revealed the not unusual -fact that there had been two temples on the same spot at successive -periods. They were not identical in location, but the later overlapped -the earlier, traces of the latter being confined to its lowest -foundation stones. Of the ruins of the later temple there was but -slightly more visible, save for the one standing column and a multitude -of drums, capitals, and bases lying about. The latter were of a type we -had not previously seen. They were huge lozenges of marble ornamented -with horizontal grooves and resembling nothing so much as great cable -drums partially wound—the effect of a multitude of narrow grooves in a -slightly concave trough around the column. They were of a noticeable -whiteness, for the marble of which this temple was composed was not so -rich in mineral substances as the Pentelic, and gave none of that golden -brown effect so familiar in the Athenian temples. - -[Illustration: COLUMN BASES. SAMOS] - -[Illustration: CARVED COLUMN-BASE. BRANCHIDÆ] - -It was in this great Heræum, which in size rivaled the great temples at -Ephesus and at Branchidæ, that the Samians deposited the brazen bowl -filched from the Spartans, of which the ancients made so much. It -appears that because of Cr[oe]sus having sought an alliance with -Lacedæmonia, the inhabitants of that land desired to return the -compliment by sending him a present. They caused a huge brass bowl to be -made, adorned with many figures and capable of holding three hundred -amphoræ. This they dispatched to Sardis. But as the ship bearing it was -passing Samos on her way, the Samians came out in force, seized the -ship, and carried the great bowl off to the temple, where it was -consecrated to the uses of the goddess. That the Samians stole it thus -was of course indignantly denied,—the islanders retorting that the bowl -was sold them by the Spartans when they discovered that Cr[oe]sus had -fallen before Cyrus and was no longer an ally to be desired. No trace of -any such relic of course is to be seen there now. In fact there is very -little to recall the former greatness of the place but the silent and -lonely column and a very diminutive museum standing near the beach, -which contains disappointingly little. It is, as a matter of fact, no -more than a dark shed, similar in appearance to the rest of the houses -of the hamlet. - -The steamer was waiting near by in the sheltered waters of the sound, -and as we were desirous of visiting the temple at Branchidæ that same -afternoon, we left Samos and continued our voyage. Under that -wonderfully clear sky the beauty of both shores was indescribable. The -Asian coast, toward which we now bore our way, was, however, the grander -of the two, with its foreground of plains and meadows and its -magnificent background of imposing mountains stretching far into the -interior and losing themselves in the unimagined distances beyond. The -sun-kissed ripples of the sea were of that incredible blue that one -never ceases to marvel at in the Mediterranean, and it was the sudden -change from this color to a well-defined area of muddy yellow in the -waters through which we glided that called attention to the mouth of the -Mæander on the shore. That proverbially crooked and winding stream -discharges so large a bulk of soil in projecting itself into the sea -that the surface is discolored for a considerable distance off shore; -and through this our steamer took her way, always nearing the low-lying -beach, until we descried a projecting headland, and rounded it into -waters as calm as those of a pond. Here we dropped anchor and once again -proceeded to the land, setting our feet for the first time on the shores -of Asia. - -Samos was, of course, still to be seen to the northwest, like a dark -blue cloud rising from a tossing sea. Before us, glowing in the -afternoon sun, stretched a long expanse of open seashore meadow, -undulating here and there, almost devoid of trees, but thickly covered -with tracts of shrubs and bushes, through which we pushed our way until -we came upon an isolated farmhouse and a path leading off over the moor. -It was a mere cart-track through the green of the fields, leading toward -a distant hillock, on which we could from afar make out the slowly -waving arms of windmills and indications of a small town. None of the -many rambles we took in the Greek islands surpassed this two-mile walk -for pure pleasure. The air was balmy yet cool. The fields were spangled -with flowers,—wild orchids, iris, gladioli, and many others. There were -no gray hills, save so far in the distance that they had become purple -and had lost their bareness. All around was a deserted yet pleasant and -pastoral country—deserving, none the less, the general name of moor. - -What few people we met on the way were farmers and shepherds, leading -pastoral lives in the little brush wigwams so common in Greek uplands in -the summer months. They gave us the usual cheerful good-day, and looked -after our invading host with wondering eyes as we streamed off over the -rolling country in the general direction of Branchidæ. - -That ancient site appeared at last on a hillock overlooking the ocean. A -small and mean hamlet had largely swallowed up the immediate environs of -the famous temple that once stood there, contrasting strangely with the -remaining columns that soon came into view over the roofs, as we drew -near, attended by an increasing army of the youth. The name of the -little modern village on the spot we never knew. Anciently this was the -site of the temple of Apollo Didymeus, erected by the Branchidæ,—a clan -of the neighborhood of ancient Miletus who claimed descent from -Branchus. The temple of Apollo which had formerly stood upon the site -was destroyed in some way in the sixth century before Christ, and the -Branchidæ set out to erect a shrine that they boasted should rival the -temple of Diana at Ephesus in size and in ornamentation. Nor was this an -inappropriate desire, since Apollo and Diana—or Artemis, as we ought to -call her—were twins, whence indeed the name “Didymeus” was applied to -the temple on the spot. Unfortunately the great temple which the -Branchidæ designed was never completed, simply because of the vastness -of the plan. Before the work was done, Apollo had ceased to be so -general an object of veneration, and what had been planned to be his -most notable shrine fell into gradual ruin and decay. - -It has not been sufficient, however, to destroy the beauty of much that -the Branchidæ accomplished during the centuries that the work was -progressing, for it is stated that several hundred years were spent in -adorning the site. The fact that one of the few columns still standing -and still bearing its crowning capital is unfluted bears silent -testimony to the fact that the temple never was completed. Of the -finished columns it is impossible to overstate their grace and lightness -or the elegance of the carving on their bases, which apparently were -designed to be different one from another. The pillars that remain are -of great height and remarkable slenderness. Nineteen drums were employed -in building them. The bases, of which many are to be seen lying about, -and some _in situ_, display the most delicate tracery and carving -imaginable, some being adorned with round bands of relief, and others -divided into facets, making the base dodecagonal instead of round, each -panel bearing a different and highly ornate design. Close by we found -the remains of a huge stone face, or mask, apparently designed as a -portion of the adornment of the cornice and presumably one of the -metopes of the temple. - -The mass of débris of the great structure has been heaped up for so long -that a sort of conical hill rises in the midst of it; and on this has -been built a tower from which one may look down on the ground plan so -far as it remains. The major part of the ruin, however, is at its -eastern end, the front, presumably, where the only standing columns are -to be seen, rising gracefully from a terrace which has been carefully -uncovered by the explorers. Enough remains to give an idea of the -immense size projected for the building, and better still enough to give -an idea of the elegance with which the ancients proposed to adorn it, -that the Ephesians need not eclipse the Milesians in honoring the twin -gods. Of the rows of statues that once lined the road from the sea to -the shrine, one is to be seen in the British Museum—a curious sitting -colossus of quaintly archaic workmanship, and somewhat suggestive, to my -own mind, of an Egyptian influence in the squat modeling of the figure. - -As one might expect of a shrine sacred to Apollo, there seems to have -been an oracle of some repute here; for Cr[oe]sus, who was credulous in -the extreme where oracles were concerned, sent hither for advice on -various occasions, and dedicated a treasure here that was similar to the -great wealth he bestowed upon the shrine at Delphi. Furthermore one -Neco, who had been engaged in digging a canal to connect the Nile with -the Red Sea,—a prototype of the Suez,—dedicated the clothes he wore -during that period to the god at the temple of the Branchidæ. Thus while -the site never attained the fame among Grecians that was accorded the -Delphian, it nevertheless seems to have inspired a great deal of -reverence among the inhabitants of Asia Minor and even of Egypt, which -may easily account for the elaborate care the Branchidæ proposed to -bestow and did bestow upon it. - -Our inspection of the temple and the surrounding town was the source of -immense interest upon the part of the infantile population, of which the -number is enormous. The entire pit around the excavations was lined -three deep with boys and girls, the oldest not over fifteen, who -surveyed our party with open-mouthed amazement. They escorted us to the -city gates, and a small detachment accompanied us on the way back over -the moor to the landing, hauling a protesting bear-cub, whose mother had -been shot the week before somewhere in the mountains of Latmos by some -modern Nimrod, and whose wails indicated the presence of a capable pair -of lungs in his small and furry body. He was taken aboard and became the -ship’s pet forthwith, seemingly content with his lot and decidedly -partial to sweetmeats. - -The walk back over that vast and silent meadow in the twilight was one -never to be forgotten. There was something mystical in the deserted -plain, in the clumps of bushes taking on strange shapes in the growing -dusk, in the great orb of the moon rising over the serrated tops of the -distant mountains of the interior—and last, but not least, in the -roaring fire which the boatmen had kindled on the rocks to indicate the -landing place as the dark drew on. We pushed off, three boatloads of -tired but happy voyagers, leaving the fire leaping and crackling on the -shore, illuminating with a red glare the rugged rocks, and casting -gigantic and awful shadows on the sea. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XVI. COS AND CNIDOS - -[Illustration] - - -From the little harbor where we had found shelter for our landing to -visit Branchidæ it proved but a few hours’ steaming to Cos, which was -scheduled as our next stopping place. Like Samos, Cos lies close to the -Asia Minor shore. The chief city, which bears the same name as the -island, unchanged from ancient times, proved to be a formidable looking -place by reason of its great walls and moles, recalling the Cretan -cities much more forcibly than the Samos town had done; for the -yellowish-white fortresses which flank the narrow inner harbor of Cos -resemble both in color and architecture the outworks that were thrown up -to protect the ports of Candia and Canea. Later in the day it was borne -in upon us that these walls were by no means uncommon in the vicinity, -and that they bore witness to the visits of the Crusaders; for the great -walls and castle at Halicarnassus not far away were very similar to the -forts of Cos, and with the best of reasons, since they were the work of -the same hands,—of the so-called “Knights of Rhodes,” who once settled -in these regions and built strongholds that for those times were -impregnable enough. Our next day or two brought us often in contact with -the relics of these stout old knights, who were variously known as of -Rhodes, or of St. John, and, last of all, of Malta. As far as Cos was -concerned, the knightly fortress was chiefly remarkable from the water, -as we steamed past the frowning battlements of buff and dropped anchor -in the open roadstead before the city; for, as is generally the case -with these old towns, there is at Cos no actual harborage for a steamer -of modern draught, whatever might have been the case anciently when -ships were small. - -The morning sun revealed the city itself spreading out behind the -fortress, in a great splash of dazzling white amidst the green of the -island verdure, its domes and minarets interspersed with the tops of -waving trees. Behind the city, the land rose gradually to the base of a -long range of green hills stretching off to the southward and into the -interior of the island. It was easily the most fertile and agreeable -land we had yet encountered in our Ægean pilgrimage, and so lovely that -we almost forgot that it was Turkish and that we had been warned not to -separate far from one another on going ashore for fear of complications -and loss of the road. However it was Turkish, this time, pure and -unadulterated, and the examination of our papers and passports was no -idle formality, but was performed with owl-like solemnity by a local -dignitary black-mustachioed and red-fezzed. While this was proceeding -the members of our party stood huddled behind a wicket gate barring -egress from the landing stage and speculated on the probability of being -haled to the dungeons, which might easily be imagined as damp and gloomy -behind the neighboring yellow walls of stone. - -The Sultan’s representative being fully satisfied that we might safely -be permitted to enter the island, the gate was thrown back, and in a -quaking body we departed through a stone arcade in which our feet echoed -and reëchoed valiantly, past rows of natives sipping coffee and smoking -the nargileh in the shade, and thence through a stone archway into a -spacious public square, paved with cobble-stones and dominated by the -most gigantic and venerable plane tree imaginable. Its enormous trunk -stood full in the centre of the square, rising from a sort of stone -dais, in the sides of which were dripping stone fountains, deeply -incrusted with the green mildew of age. Overhead, even to the uttermost -parts of the square, the branches spread a curtain of fresh green -leaves. They were marvelous branches—great, gnarled, twisted limbs, that -were as large in themselves as the trunk of a very respectable tree, and -shored up with a forest of poles. Actual measurement of the -circumference of the trunk itself revealed it to be something over forty -feet in girth, and it was not difficult to believe the legend that this -impressive tree really did date back to the time of Hippocrates, the -great physician of Cos, who was born in the island long before the dawn -of the Christian era. In any event, the great plane of Cos is called to -this day the “tree of Hippocrates,” whether it has any real connection -with that eminent father of medicine or not. - -[Illustration: TREE OF HIPPOCRATES. COS] - -We left the shady square by a narrow and roughly paved street, little -wider than an alley and lined with whitewashed houses, closely set. It -wound aimlessly along through the thickly settled portion of the city, -and at last opened out into the country-side, where the houses grew -fewer and other splendid trees became more numerous, generally shading -wayside fountains, beside which crouched veiled native women gossiping -over their water-jars. A pair of baggy-trousered soldiers went with us -on the road, partly as overseers, no doubt, but chiefly as guides and -protectors—the latter office proving quite needless save for the -occasional expert kicking of a barking cur from some wayside hovel. They -proved to be a friendly pair, although of course conversation with them -was impossible, and a lively exchange of cigarettes and tobacco was kept -up as we walked briskly along out of the city and into the open country -that lay toward the hills. Their chief curiosity was a kind of -inextinguishable match, which proved exceedingly useful for smokers -bothered by the lively morning breeze. They were flat matches, seemingly -made of rude brown paper such as butchers at home used to employ for -wrapping up raw meat. The edges were serrated, and when once the match -was lighted it burned without apparent flame and with but little smoke -until the entire fabric was consumed. - -The object of this walk, which proved to be of something like three or -four miles into the suburbs of Cos, was to view the remnants of the -famous health temple, sacred, of course, to Asklepios. We found it -situated on an elevation looking down across a smiling plain to the sea, -with the white walls and roofs of Cos a trifle to one side. It was not a -prospect to be forgotten. It was a bright day, but with sufficient haze -in the air to give to the other islands visible across the intervening -water an amethystine quality, and to make the distant summits in Asia -Minor faint and ethereal. The nearer green of the fields, the purple of -the sea, and the delicate hues of the islands and far-away peaks, held -us for a long time before turning to the curious ruin of the temple, -which, as usual, was less a temple than a hospital. - -Little remains of it, save for the foundations. Three enormous terraces, -faced with flights of steps of easy grade, led up to the main sanctuary -of the god, comparatively little of which remains to be seen. Various -smaller buildings, shrines for allied divinities, porticoes for the -sick, apartments for the priests, treasuries and the like, are readily -distinguishable, and serve to reveal what an extensive establishment the -health temple was in its time. Restorations of it, on paper, reveal it -as having been probably most impressive, both architecturally and by -reason of its commanding position, which was not only admirable by -nature but accentuated by the long approach over the three successive -terraces to the many-columned main building above. - -Of the numerous smaller structures lying about the precinct, the most -curious and interesting were the subterranean treasuries—if that is the -proper name for them—which have been discovered at the foot of the -slope. They apparently consist of vaults in the earth, each covered over -with a massive stone slab. The slab is removable, but only at great -pains. A circular hole pierces it through the centre, suitable for -dropping money or other valuables into the receptacle beneath and for -inserting the tackle with which to lift the rock when the treasury was -to be opened. The vast weight of the stone and the time required for -raising it would have been ample guarantee against unauthorized visits -to the treasury. Other theories accounting for these underground -chambers and their curious coverings have been advanced—the most -fantastic one being the supposition that these were the chambers devoted -to housing the sacred serpents of the god, the holes serving for their -emergence and for the insertion of food! But while the cult of Asklepios -certainly does appear to have made use of the sacred snakes as a part of -its mummery, it seems hardly likely that these subterranean cavities -were used for any such purpose. - -As for the practice of medicine in Cos, it is widely believed to have -been of a sensible and even of an “ethical” sort, largely devoid of mere -reliance on idle superstition or religious formalism for its curative -effects, though unquestionably employing these, as was not only the case -in ancient times, but as even persists to-day in some localities of the -archipelago. The religious ceremonies, which generally took the form of -sleeping in the sacred precincts in the hope of being divinely healed, -appear to have been supplemented at Cos by the employment of means of -healing that were rudely scientific. Hippocrates, the most celebrated of -the Coan physicians, has left abundant proof that he was no mere -charlatan, but a common-sense doctor, whose contributions to medical -science have not by any means entirely passed out of esteem. Reference -has been made hitherto to the custom of depositing in the temple -anatomical specimens representing the parts healed, as votive offerings -from grateful patients—a custom which persists in the modern Greek -church, as everybody who examines the altar-screen of any such church -will speedily discover. - -The extreme veneration of Asklepios at Cos is doubtless to be explained -by the fact that Cos was an Epidaurian colony; for the Epidaurians -claimed that the healing god was born in the hills overlooking their -valley in the Peloponnesus. At any rate the health temple at Cos and the -great sanitarium at Epidaurus shared the highest celebrity in ancient -times as resorts for the sick; and in each case there are traces to show -that they were sites devoted not only to the worship of a deity, but to -the ministration unto the ailing by physical means, as far as such means -were then understood. - -Cos, however, was far from basing her sole claim to ancient celebrity on -her physicians and hospitals. Her embroideries rivaled the more famous -Rhodian work, and she was an early home of culture and resort of noted -students, not only of medicine, but of rhetoric, grammar, poetry, -philosophy, and science. Ptolemy II, otherwise known as Ptolemy -Philadelphus, is known to have studied here, and it is not at all -improbable that the Sicilian poet, Theocritus, was a fellow student with -him. For it is known that Theocritus was a student at Cos at some time, -and he was later summoned to Ptolemy’s Egyptian court, where he wrote -the epithalamium for the unholy marriage between Philadelphus and his -sister. Not a little of the present knowledge of ancient Cos is due to -the writings that Theocritus left as the result of his student days in -the island. - -The curator of antiquities in charge of the excavations at the -Asklepeion took us in charge on our return walk and led us through the -city to his own home, where, although we were on Turkish soil, we had a -taste of real Greek hospitality. Our party was numerous enough to appall -any unsuspecting hostess, but we were ushered into the great upper room -of the house, with no trace of dismay on the part of the wife and -daughter. It was a huge room, scrupulously neat and clean, and the forty -or so included in our number found chairs ranged in line about the -apartment, where we sat at ease examining the fragments that the curator -had to show from the mass of inscriptions recovered from the temple. -Meantime, after the national custom, the eldest daughter served -refreshment to each in turn, consisting of preserved quince, glasses of -mastika, and huge tumblers of water. It was a stately ceremony, each -helping himself gravely to the quince from the same dish, and sipping -the cordial, while the mother bustled about supplying fresh spoons. And -with a general exchange of cards and such good wishes as were to be -expressed in limited traveler’s Greek, we departed to the landing and -again embarked. - -We designed to push on to Cnidos at once, and to climb the heights of -that ancient promontory of Asia Minor in the late afternoon. But -inasmuch as Halicarnassus, the native city of Herodotus, lay directly on -the way, we sailed into its capacious harbor and out again without -stopping, for the sake of such glance at the site as might be had from -the water. The bay on which the city lies—it is now called Boudrun—is -wonderfully beautiful, running well into the mainland, while the city -itself, with its great white castle of the Knights of St. John as the -central feature, lies at the inmost end. Of the castle we were able to -get a very good view, going close enough to arouse the violent -excitement of a gesticulating Turkish official who came out in a tiny -boat, bravely decked with the crescent flag, to show us where to anchor -if we so desired. The site of the famous Mausoleum was pointed out from -the deck, and most of us were confident that we saw it, although it was -not easy to find. The remains of this incomparably magnificent tomb, -designed for King Mausolus, are, as everybody knows, to be seen in the -British Museum to-day. - -It was but a few miles farther to the promontory of Cnidos, and we -dropped anchor there in mid-afternoon, in one of the double bays for -which the ancient naval station was famous. The bays are still separated -by a narrow isthmus—the same which the ancients tried in vain to sever. -The story goes that the drilling of the rocks caused such a flying of -fragments as to endanger the eyes of the workmen, and the oracle when -questioned dissuaded them from continuing the work, saying “Zeus could -have made the land an island if he had intended so to do.” Hence the two -little harbors remain, one on either side of the neck of land that juts -into the sea. They were used as anchorage for triremes and merchant -ships respectively, when Cnidos was a power in the world. To-day the -spot is absolutely deserted, and we found both the diminutive bays -devoid of all trace of life, until at evening a passing fisherman came -in and made all snug for the night. - -[Illustration: CNIDOS, SHOWING THE TWO HARBORS] - -Above the waters of the harbor towered the commanding rock of the -Cnidian acropolis, something like twelve hundred feet in height—a bare -and forbidding rock, indeed. Of the town and the temples that once -clustered along its base nothing was to be seen. Man has long ago -abandoned this spot and left it absolutely untenanted save by memories. -It was in ancient times a favorite haunt of Aphrodite, and three temples -did honor to that goddess on the knolls above the sea. Here also stood -the marble Aphrodite carved by Praxiteles, and esteemed his masterpiece -by many. It was carried off to Constantinople centuries ago, and -perished miserably in a fire in that city in 1641. - -Our three boatloads landed with no little difficulty on the abrupt rocks -of the shore, being somewhat put to it to avoid sundry submerged -boulders lying just off the land. It was a sharp scramble from the -water’s edge to the narrow and ascending shelf above, on which the -temples had stood. The ruins of them lay buried in tall grasses and in -huge clumps of daisies, the latter growing in the most remarkable -profusion. With a single sweep of the knife I cut a prodigious armful of -them, and the dining saloon that night was made a perfect bower by the -wild flowers that the returning party brought back with them. - -It was one of the days when the non-archæological section of the party -hastily left the remnants of ancient greatness below and set out -precipitately for a climb, for the prospect of a view from the -overshadowing cliff above was promising. It proved the most formidable -ascent that we undertook in all our Ægean cruising. Anciently there was -a gradual ascent by means of a zigzag causeway to the fortified heights -above, but the majority of us disregarded it and struck off up the steep -toward the summit. It is not a wise plan for any but hardened climbers, -for the slope soon became so sharp that it made one giddy to look back -down the mountain, and the footing was often difficult because of the -shelving stone and fragments of loose rock. Small bushes were the only -growth, and they were often eagerly seized upon to give the needful -purchase to lift us onward and upward. The summit, however, amply -rewarded our toil. It was easier going toward the top, for we found the -old road and rose more gradually toward the point where the ancient -walls began. - -From the pinnacle of the rock the sweep of the view was indescribably -fine. The sun was sinking rapidly to the horizon, illuminating the -islands and the sea. The wind had dropped, the haze had disappeared, and -the shore line of Asia Minor stretched away, clear cut, in either -direction. We were practically at the southwest corner of the peninsula. -The rugged headlands retreated to the north and to the east from our -feet, while inland piled the impressive interior mountains rearing their -snow-capped heads against the blue evening dusk. Over the Ægean, dark -blue and violet islands rose from a sea of molten gold. At our feet lay -the twin harbors and our steamer, looking like a toy ship, the thin -smoke of her funnel rising in a blue wisp into the silent evening air. -The fishermen from the tiny smack that had sought a night’s berth there -had kindled a gleaming fire on the beach. Along the sharp spine of the -promontory we could see the ancient line of wall, rising and falling -along the summit and flanked here and there by ruined towers—a -stupendous engineering work of a nation long dead. It was all -impressively silent, and deserted save for ourselves. The course of -empire had indeed taken its westward way and left once powerful Cnidos a -barren waste. - -But the darkness coming suddenly in these latitudes at this season -warned us to descend in haste to the fire that was signaling us from the -landing, and we slipped and slid down the old causeway to the boats. -That night the moon was at the full, and we sat late on the after-deck -enjoying the incomparable brilliancy of the light on sea and cliffs, -shining as of old on a time-defying and rock-bound coast, but on a coast -no longer teeming with life and harbors no longer alive with ships. And -at midnight the wheezing of the engines and the jarring of the screw -gave notice that we were slipping out of the harbor of Cnidos and out -into the sea, to Rhodes. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XVII. RHODES - -[Illustration] - - -It was our purpose to land on Rhodes the isle, not at Rhodes the town. -To visit the famous northern city where once stood the Colossus would -have been highly agreeable had opportunity presented itself; but as it -was we planned to coast along the southeasterly side of Rhodes and make -our landing at the little less celebrated and probably even more -picturesque site of Lindos. So in the morning we woke to find our vessel -rolling merrily in a cross sea just off the entrance to the little bay -that serves Lindos for a harbor,—a sea that stripped our breakfast table -of its few dishes and converted the floor of the saloon into a sea of -broken crockery. The waters of the bay proved calm enough when we had -slid past the imposing promontory on which stood the acropolis of -ancient Lindos, and felt our way across the rapidly shoaling waters to a -safe anchorage. The water was of a wonderful clarity as well as of -remarkable blueness, the bottom being visible for many fathoms and -seeming much more shoal than was the case in fact. We were able to go -quite close to shore before anchoring, and found ourselves in good -shelter from the wind that was then blowing, although well outside the -tiny inner port which lay at the foot of a steep bluff. Towering above -the whole town stood the precipitous and seemingly inaccessible -acropolis, its steep sides running down to the sea, the rich redness of -the rock contrasting on the one hand with the matchless blue of the -Ægean, and on the other with the pure whiteness of the buildings of the -town. The summit of the promontory was crowned with the ruin of a castle -of the Knights of Rhodes, who had once made this a famous stronghold in -the Middle Ages. In fact the residence of the knights had obliterated -the more ancient remnants of the classic period, which included a temple -of Athena; and the work of exhuming the Greek ruins from under the -débris of the Crusaders’ fortress was only just beginning when we landed -there. - -From the ship, the most conspicuous object on the heights was the ruined -castle of St. John, the portal of which, giving the sole means of access -to the plateau on top of the promontory, was plainly to be seen as we -sailed in. It gave the impression of yellowish-brown sandstone from -below, a color which it shared with the goodly battlements that frowned -down from all sides of the citadel, even where the abruptness of the -declivity for something like three hundred feet made battlements a -seeming work of supererogation. Nestling under the shadow of the mighty -rock on the landward side lay the modern village of Lindos itself, -apparently freshly whitewashed and gleaming in the sun wherever the rock -failed to shelter it from the morning warmth. It was one of those -marvelously brilliant days that have made the Greek atmosphere so -famous—cloudless and clear, with that clearness that reveals distant -objects so distinctly, yet so softly withal. As for the nearer -prospects, they were almost trying to the eyes, under the forenoon glare -beating down on that immaculate array of close-set white houses and -shops. - -Our boats set off shoreward across a placid sheet of water that varied -from a deep indigo at the ship to the palest of greens as it surged -among the fringes of slippery rock along the foot of the bluff. The -landing stage was but a narrow shelf of pebbly beach, from which a rough -paved way led steeply up to the town just above the sea. The contrast of -the blue sky and the white purity of the town was dazzling in the -extreme, and the glare accounted in a measure for the veiled women and -sore-eyed children we met in the courtyards of the town. Our own eyes -soon ached sufficiently to make us walk in single file along the shady -side of the high-walled streets, looking chiefly at the shadow and only -occasionally at the houses and shops as we wound along into the heart of -the village. But even these occasional glimpses revealed the most -fascinating of little details in the local architecture, curious Gothic -and Moorish windows surviving from a bygone day and ornamented with the -border of “rope” pattern worked in the stone. Almost everything had been -covered with the dazzling whitewash, save here and there a relic of -former days which was allowed to retain the natural color of the native -rock. - -In most of the cases the actual dwellings were set well back from the -streets, which were extremely narrow and crooked. Between the highway -and the house was invariably a tiny courtyard, screened from the view of -passers by a lofty wall, always of white. The yards were occasionally to -be peered into, however, through a gate left temptingly ajar. These -diminutive courts were floored with pebble work in black and white -designs throughout their extent, save where the matron of the house had -a flower bed under cultivation. These beds and boxes of flowers were a -riot of color and filled the air with fragrance, while the green foliage -furnished a lively contrast with the dead white of the walls behind. - -In the doorways of the dwellings within could be seen groups of bashful -women, and shy children hiding in their mothers’ skirts, who looked -furtively at us as we stopped hesitatingly before their gates. Growing -bolder we finally ventured to set foot within the courtyards now and -then, charmed with the sweetness of the tiny gardens; and at length we -made bold to enter and to walk over the pleasant firmness of the pebbly -pavements of white and black tracery to the doorways, where the women -gave a timid but welcoming good-day and bade us come in. The absence of -men was notable. We were later told that the male population of Lindos -was temporarily away, being largely employed in the construction of the -great dam at Assouan, on the Nile; and that in consequence the women had -practically the sole charge in Lindos at the time, which may have -accounted for the immaculateness of everything. We were likewise told -that in the evening a certain hour was reserved for the sole use of the -women, who might be free to wander at will through the streets, chiefly -to get water for their households, without fear of molestation. Lindos -for the time was an Adamless Eden, and as spick and span a town as it -would be possible to find on earth. - -The houses into which we were welcomed proved to be as clean within as -without. The lower story apparently consisted as a general thing of a -single great room, with possibly a smaller apartment back of it for -cooking. This large room was the living room and sleeping room as well. -The floor was scrubbed until its boards shone. The walls were of the -universal white. On one side of the room—and occasionally on both -sides—was to be seen a sort of dais, or elevated platform, which -apparently served for the family bed. The bedding, including blankets -and rugs of barbaric splendor, was neatly piled on the platform or hung -over the railing of it. And it was here, according to all appearance, -that the entire household retired to rest in a body at night, in -harmonious contiguity. - -What interested us most of all, however, was the decoration of the -rooms. Nearly every one that we entered was adorned with numerous plates -hung on the wall in great profusion, seldom more than two being of the -same pattern, and including all sorts of designs, from the valuable -Rhodian down to the common “willow” patterns of our own grandmothers’ -collections at home. This heterogeneous array of plates puzzled us not a -little at first. It was so universal among the householders, and -representative of so wide a field of the ceramic art, that some -explanation of the presence of these plates seemed necessary. Later it -developed that the Rhodian custom has long been to mark the birth of -each child by the addition of a plate to the family collection, the -fewer duplicates the better. The agglomeration of these dishes that we -saw represented the family trees for generations. Despite the connection -presumably existing between the plates and the family history, however, -we found the women not reluctant to part with specimens for a price, and -we carried away not a few. The comparatively rare instances in which we -found any of the genuine and celebrated Rhodian ware, however, proved -that its great value was well known by the native women. Their prices in -such cases proved prohibitive, especially in view of the risk of -breakage involved in getting the plates home from so distant an island. -These plates, notable for the beauty of their design and for the -distinguishing rose pattern in the centre, are often to be found in -museum collections, and their great rarity and consequent value unfits -them for other uses than those of the collector. The few that we found -in Lindos were to be had for prices equivalent to about eighty dollars -apiece in our money, which seemed exorbitant until we were later told -that even one hundred dollars would have been reasonable enough for some -of the finer specimens. Indeed, it is getting to be rather unusual to -find one of these for sale at all. - -There are opportunities enough, as we discovered, to purchase the famous -Rhodian embroidery; but we were cautioned to leave the bargaining to -experts familiar with values, for the infrequent visitor is almost -certain to be imposed upon in any such transaction. These embroideries, -or at least the older ones, are very elaborate creations of colored -wools on a background of unbleached linen, the colors being remarkably -rich and fresh despite their age, an age that is eloquently testified to -by the stains and worn places in the cloth. The subject of Rhodian -embroidery is a most interesting one, but too intricate and technical to -be gone into here. The study of the growth of certain well-defined -groups of conventionalized figures might well furnish material for a -considerable body of literature, if it has not already done so. We were -informed that the wealth of Rhodian embroidery was due to the ancient -custom—which may still exist among the Rhodian girls—to begin the -preparation of the nuptial gear at a tender age, they plying their -needles almost daily, until by the time they are marriageable they have -accumulated a surprising amount of bizarre blankets, cloths, and bits of -finery for their dower chests. - -The leisurely progress through the town required some time, occupied as -we were by frequent visits to the odd little houses in the quest of -curious wares to carry away. And by the time we had reached the centre -of the town, the hot sun made us glad indeed to step under a spacious -arch, washed underneath with a sky-blue tint which was restful to our -tired eyes, and thence to go into the cool and aromatic quiet of a very -old Greek church, where the glare of the sun on the white buildings -could be forgotten. Most notable of all the curious things shown us by -the attendant priest was the quaintly carved roof, which, after so much -excessive light out of doors, it was decidedly difficult to see at all -in the grateful gloom of the church. - -We delayed but a little while there, for the acropolis above was the -ultimate goal of our visit to the spot. Thither we were conducted by the -Danish gentleman who had charge of the investigations being prosecuted -there. The way led out of the dense buildings of the town and along the -base of the overhanging cliff to the side toward the open sea, always -upward and above the flat roofs of the little town below, until we came -to the foot of the stairway of stone leading up through a defile in the -rock to the arched portal of the castle on the height. It was a long -flight of steps, one side against the smooth face of the rock, the other -unprotected. And at the foot of the impressive approach to the citadel -was one of the most interesting of the discoveries made on the site. It -was a gigantic sculpture in bas-relief hewn out of the face of the cliff -itself and representing, in “life size,” so to speak, the stern of an -ancient trireme. The relief was sufficiently high to give a flat space -on what was intended to be the deck of the ship, supposably as a -pedestal for some statue which has disappeared. The curved end of the -trireme with its sustaining bolt, the seat of the helmsman, and a blade -of one of the oars, were still intact, and as a large representation of -a classic ship the sculpture is doubtless unique, To all intents and -purposes it is as perfect to-day as when the artists first carved it. - -[Illustration: - - SCULPTURED TRIREME IN ROCK AT LINDOS - _From a Sketch by the Author_ -] - -In the grateful shade of the rock we sat and listened to the description -of the archæological work done on the spot by the Danes, which has not, -at this writing, been officially published, and therefore seems not -proper matter for inexpert discussion here. One interesting fact, -however, which we were told, was that, by means of certain records -deciphered from tablets found on the acropolis, it had been possible to -fix definitely the date of the statue of the Laocoön as a work of the -first century before Christ. This was established by the list of the -names of the priests, and of the sculptors who worked for them, at -periods which it proved possible to fix with a remarkable degree of -exactness. - -[Illustration: ARCHED PORTAL OF ACROPOLIS. LINDOS] - -We ascended to the height above, where we were permitted to wander at -will among the ruins. As from below, the chief features were those of -the medieval period, which had so largely swallowed up the temple of -Athena. Nevertheless the excavators had restored enough of the original -site from its covering of débris to reveal the vestiges of the old -temple and an imposing propylæa, with traces enough in fragmentary form -to enable making drawings of the structures as they probably appeared to -the ancient eye. For the rest the chief interest centred in the relics -of the abode of the knights. Just at the head of the grand entrance -stairway was the tower which defended the acropolis on its one -accessible side. The arched portal is very nearly perfect still, and one -passes under it, across a sort of moat, by means of an improvised bridge -of planks, where once, no doubt, a drawbridge served to admit or to bar -out at the will of the Grand Master of the ancient commandery. Beyond -the entrance hall lay a succession of vaulted halls and chambers leading -around to the open precincts of the acropolis, the most evidently -well-preserved buildings being the chapel of St. John and the house once -occupied by the Grand Master himself. All were of the brownish native -rock, and were unmistakably medieval in their general style of -architecture. On the open terraces above the entrance, little remained -to be seen save the heaps of débris and the faint traces of the classic -temples. But most impressive of all was the sheer drop of the rock on -all sides around the acropolis and the views off to sea and inland over -Rhodes. The precipices everywhere, save at the entrance alone, fell away -perpendicularly to the sea, which murmured two or three hundred feet -below. Nevertheless, despite the evident hopelessness of ever scaling -the height, the painstaking knights had built a wall with battlements -all about, less serviceable as protecting the inhabitants against -assault than for preserving them from falling over to a certain and -awful death themselves. The drop on the landward side was considerably -less, but quite as steep and quite as impregnable to would-be scaling -parties. Even a few munitions of war, in the shape of rounded stones -about the size of old-fashioned cannon balls seen in our modern military -parks, were to be found about the summit. - -The views from this elevated height were superb, not only off across the -sea to the mountainous land of Asia Minor, but inland toward the rocky -interior of Rhodes herself. The land just across the little depression -in which the white town lay, rose to another though less commanding -height, in the slopes of which the excavator said they had but recently -unearthed some ancient rock tombs. Beyond, the country rolled in an -undulating sea of green hills—a pleasant land as always, and doubtless -as flowery as of old when she took her name from the rose (rhodos) and -when the wild pomegranate flower gave Browning’s “Balaustion” her -nickname. As a colony of the Athenian empire she stood loyal to the -Attic city down to 412 B.C., in those troublous days of the -Peloponnesian war, when the star of Athens waned and most of the -Rhodians at last revolted. Those who still clung to Athens probably went -away as Balaustion did, and returned, if at all, only after Athens had -been laid waste to the sound of the flute. Under the Roman domination -Rhodes enjoyed a return to high favor, and Tiberius selected the smiling -isle as his place of banishment. For siding with Cæsar, Cassius punished -the island by plundering it. For centuries after, it was overrun by the -Arabs; and from them it was taken by the Byzantines, who turned it over -to the Knights of St. John, who took the new name of the Knights of -Rhodes, fortified the spot as we saw, and held it for a long time -against all comers, down to 1522, when the Sultan Solyman II. reduced -it. It is still Turkish territory, and of the finds made by the -archæologists on the site of Lindos, the great bulk have been sent to -Constantinople, including several hundred terra cotta figurines. The -zealous Turks, the excavators complained, had taken away their books on -landing, with the result that they had led a lonely life of it, their -only diversion being their labors on the acropolis. - -We had no chance to inspect the interior of the island, which other -visitors have described in glowing colors as most attractive in the -profusion of its almost tropic verdure and its growths of cactus, -oleander, myrtle, figs, and pomegranates. Like Cos, Rhodes was an -ancient seat of culture, greatly favored by students, and the site of a -celebrated university. Æschines founded here a famous school of oratory, -and in later years the institution was honored by the patronage of no -less a personage than the Roman Cicero. Of these, of course, we saw no -trace. - -Neither had we any opportunity to visit the ancient capital, “Rhodes the -town,” which boasts the ruins of a very similar castle of the knights. -As for the famous Colossus, which nearly everybody remembers first of -all in trying to recall what were the wonders of the world, it no longer -exists. But in passing one may remark that the notion that this gigantic -statue bestrode the harbor has been exploded, destroying one of the most -cherished delusions of childhood which the picture in the back of -Webster’s Unabridged contributed not least of all in producing, in the -past two generations. - -There were three celebrated cities in Rhodes in its golden age—Lindos, -Ialysos, and Kameiros—which, with Cos, Cnidos, and Halicarnassus, formed -the ancient Dorian “hexapolis,” or six cities, four of which it had been -our good fortune to visit within the past two days. The city of Rhodes -was formed comparatively late by inhabitants from the three original -cities of the island, and became a prosperous and influential port. The -inhabitants were seafaring people and developed a high degree of skill -in navigation, with an interesting corollary in their code of maritime -law, from which a faint survival is found in the doctrine of “general -average” in our own admiralty practice, sometimes referred to as the -Rhodian law, and having to do with the participation of all shippers in -such losses as may be occasioned by throwing a part of the cargo -overboard to save the whole from loss. To visit Kameiros and the -interior would have been interesting but impossible, and we found our -consolation for the inability to visit other Rhodian sites in the -loveliness of Lindos, with its acropolis above and its pure white walls -below, its gardens, its courtyards, and its collections of plates. And -we left it with regret—a regret which was shared no doubt by the lonely -Danish explorer whom we left waving adieu to us from the shore as we -pulled away across the shallow waters of the harbor to the steamer, and -turned our faces once more toward the west and that Athens of which -Balaustion dreamed. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XVIII. THERA - -[Illustration] - - -No island that we visited in our Ægean cruise was more interesting than -Thera proved to be, when we had steamed across the intervening ocean -from Rhodes and into the immense basin that serves Thera—or modern -Santorin—for a harbor. No more remarkable harbor could well be -conceived. - -If Vesuvius could be imagined to sink into Naples bay until there were -left protruding only about a thousand feet of the present altitude; if -the ocean should be admitted to the interior of the volcano by two great -channels or fissures in the sides—one at the point where the ubiquitous -Mr. Cook has—or did have—his funicular railway, and the other in the -general locality represented by the ill-starred Bosco Trecase; and if -the present awesome crater, into which so many thousand visitors have -peered, should thus be filled throughout its extent by the cooling -waters, so as to form a great and placid bay within the mountain,—then -we should have an almost exact reproduction of what happened at Thera -something like four thousand years ago. Furthermore, if we may add to -our Vesuvian hypothesis the supposition that there be built along the -eastern lip of the crater a long white town, stretching for perhaps a -mile along the sharp spine of the summit, we should have an equally -exact reproduction of what exists at Thera to-day. - -Thera lies at the end of the chain of submerged peaks that reveal the -continuation of the Attic peninsula under the waters of the Ægean. The -same rocky range of mountains that disappears into the sea at Sunium -rises again and again as it stretches off to the southeast to form the -islands of Cythnos, Seriphos, Siphnos, and their fellows, and the series -closes, apparently, in the volcanic island of Santorin, under which name -the moderns know the island which the ancients called successively -Kallista (most beautiful) and Thera. Considering her beauty as an island -and her comparative nearness to the mainland of Greece or to Crete, -Thera is surprisingly little known. Historically Thera had small -celebrity compared with her neighbors; but in every other way it seemed -to us that she surpassed them all. Legend appears to have left the -island comparatively unhonored, and poetry has permitted her to remain -unsung. No Byron has filled high his bowl with Theran wine. No burning -poetess lived or sang in her single tortuous street. No god of Olympus -claimed the isle for his birthright. But for beauty of every kind, from -the pastoral to the sublimely awful, Thera has no fellow in the Ægean; -and for extraordinary natural history and characteristics, it is -doubtful if it has a fellow in the world. For it is a sunken volcano, -with a bottomless harbor, where once was the centre of fiery activity,—a -harbor, rimmed about with miles of encircling precipices, on the top of -one of which lies the town of Thera, a thousand feet straight up above -the sea, and reachable only by a steep and winding mule track which -connects it with the diminutive landing stage below. - -[Illustration: Santorin] - -There appears to be a wide divergence of opinion as to the exact date -when the original mountain was blown to pieces and sunk in the ocean, -but it may be roughly stated to have occurred in the vicinity of the -sixteenth century before Christ, although some authorities incline to -believe the eruption to have come to pass at a still earlier period. As -to the inhabitants before the time of that extraordinary upheaval, -little is known save what may be gleaned from a multitude of pottery -vases left behind by those early settlers, and bearing ornamentation of -a rude sort that stamps them as belonging to the remote pre-Mycenæan -age, the age that preceded the greatness of Agamemnon’s city and the -sack of Troy. It seems entirely probable that the early Therans were -from Ph[oe]nicia, and tradition says that they came over under the -leadership of no less a personage than Cadmus himself. What we know for -a certainty, however, is that at some prehistoric time the original -volcano underwent a most remarkable change and subsided, with a blaze of -glory that can hardly be imagined, into the waters of the Ægean, until -only the upper rim and three central cones are now to be seen above the -water’s edge. Through two enormous crevices torn in the northern and -southern slopes the irresistible ocean poured into the vast central -cavity, cooling to a large extent the fiery ardor of the mountain and -leaving it as we found it, a circle of frowning cliffs, nearly a -thousand feet in height and something like eighteen miles in periphery, -inclosing a placid and practically bottomless harbor in what was once -the volcano’s heart, the surface of the bay pierced by only three -diminutive islands, once the cones of the volcano, and not entirely -inert even to-day. In fact one of these central islands appeared as -recently as 1866 during an eruption that showed the fires of Santorin -not yet to be extinguished by any means—a fact that is further testified -to by the heat of certain portions of the inclosed waters of the basin. - -[Illustration: LANDING-PLACE AT THERA] - -Into this curious harbor our little chartered ship glided in the early -light of an April morning, which dimly revealed the walls of forbidding -stone towering high above in cliffs of that black, scarred appearance -peculiar to volcanic formation, marred by the ravages of the ancient -fires, yet none the less relieved from utter sullenness here and there -by strata of rich red stone or by patches of grayish white tufa. -Nevertheless it was all sombre and forbidding, especially in the early -twilight; for the sun had not yet risen above the horizon, much less -penetrated into the cavernous depths of Thera’s harbor. High above, -however, perched on what looked like a most precarious position along -the summit of the cliff, ran the white line of the city, already -catching the morning light on its domes and towers, but seeming rather a -Lilliputian village than a habitation of men; while far away to the -north, on another portion of the crater wall, a smaller city seemed -rather a lining of frost or snow gathered on the crater’s lip. - -A few shallops made shift to anchor close to the foot of the precipice, -where a narrow submarine shelf projects sufficiently to give a -precarious holding ground for small craft; and near them were grouped a -few white buildings showing duskily in the morning half-light and -serving to indicate the landing stage. In the main, however, there is -little anchorage in the entire bay, which is practically bottomless. No -cable could fathom the depth of the basin a few rods off shore, and -fortunately none is needed, since the shelter is perfect. The steamer -held her own for hours by a mere occasional lazy turning of her screw. -To the southward lay the broad channel through which our ship had -entered, and to the north lay the narrow passage through which at -nightfall we proposed to depart for Athens. Everywhere else was the -encircling wall of strangely variegated rock, buttressed here and there -by enormous crags of black lava, which sometimes seemed to strengthen it -and sometimes threatened to fall crashing to the waters directly below. -Indeed landslides are by no means uncommon in Thera, and several persons -have been killed even at the landing place by masses of stone falling -from above. - -As the light increased at the base of the cliff, it became possible to -see the donkey track leading in a score or more of steep windings up the -face of the rock from the landing to the city high above, arched here -and there over old landslips or ravines, while near by were to be seen -curious cave-dwellings, where caverns in the tufa had been walled up, -provided with doors and windows, and inhabited. - -There was some little delay in landing, even after our small boats had -set us ashore on the narrow quay, slippery with seaweed and covered with -barnacles. We were herded in a rather impatient group behind a row of -shore boats drawn up on the landing stage, and detained there until -“pratique” had been obtained, which entitled us to proceed through the -devious byways of the tiny village close by to the beginning of the -ascent. The wharf was covered with barrels, heaps of wood, carboys -covered with wicker, and all the paraphernalia to be expected of the -port of a wine-exporting, water-importing community; for Thera has to -send abroad for water, aside from what she is able to collect from the -rains, and also relies largely on her neighbors for wood. There are -almost no native trees and no springs at all; and one French writer -apparently has been greatly disturbed by this embarrassing difficulty, -saying, “One finds there neither wood nor water, so that it is necessary -to go abroad for each—and yet to build ships one must have wood, and to -go for water ships are necessary!” - -On emerging from the cluster of small buildings at the base of the cliff -and entering upon the steep path which leads to the city above, we at -once encountered the trains of asses that furnish the only means of -communication between the village of Thera above and the ships -below—asses patiently bearing broad deck-loads of fagots, or of boards, -or of various containers useful for transporting liquids. It was easily -possible to hire beasts to ride up the winding highway to Thera, but as -the grade was not prohibitive and as the time required for a pedestrian -to ascend was predicted to be from twenty minutes to half an hour, these -were voted unnecessary, especially as it was still shady on the bay side -of the cliff and would continue so for hours. So we set out, not too -briskly, up the path. It proved to be utterly impracticable for anything -on wheels, being not only steep but frequently provided with the broad -steps so often to be seen in Greek and Italian hill towns, while it was -paved throughout with blocks of basalt which continual traffic had -rendered slippery in the extreme. The slipperiness, indeed, renders the -ascent to Thera if anything easier than the coming down, for on the -latter journey one must exercise constant care in placing the feet and -proceed at a pace that is anything but brisk, despite the downward -grade. - -[Illustration: THERA] - -The only care in going up was to avoid the little trains of donkeys with -their projecting loads and their mischievous desire to crowd pedestrians -to the parapet side of the road, a propensity which we speedily learned -to avoid by giving the beasts as wide a berth as the constricted path -would allow, choosing always the side next the cliff itself; for the -sheer drop from the parapet soon became too appalling to contemplate as -the way wound higher and higher, turn after turn, above the hamlet at -the landing. The view speedily gained in magnificence, showing the bay -in its full extent, with the two entrance channels far away and the -detached portion of the opposite crater wall, now called Therasia, as if -it were, as it appears to be, an entirely separate island of a small -local archipelago, instead of one homogeneous but sunken mountain. -Directly below lay the landing stage with its cluster of white -warehouses, the scattered cave-dwellings, and the tiny ships moored -close to the quay—small enough at close range, but from this height like -the vessels in a toy-shop. So precipitous is the crater wall that one -could almost fling a pebble over the parapet and strike the settlement -at the foot of the path. The varying colors of the rock, when brought -out by the growing sunlight, added a sombre liveliness to the view, the -red tones of the cliff preponderating over the forbidding black of the -lava, while here and there a long gash revealed the ravages of a -considerable landslip. - -It was, indeed, a half-hour’s hard climb to Thera. But when the town did -begin, it stole upon us ere we were aware, isolated and venturesome -dwellings of the semi-cave type dropping down the face of the cliff to -meet the highway winding painfully up, these in turn giving place to -more pretentious dwellings with flat or domed roofs, all shining with -immaculate whitewash and gleaming in the morning sun, in sharp contrast -with the dark rocks on which they had their foundation. The scriptural -architect who built his house upon the sand might well have regarded -that selection as stable and secure compared with some of these Theran -dwellings; for although they are founded upon a rock and are in some -cases half sunk in it, there seems to be little guarantee that the rock -itself may not some day split off and land them down among the ships. - -When the winding path finally attained the summit, it was found to -debouch into a narrow public square, flanked by the inevitable museum of -antiquities and a rather garish church; the latter painfully new, and, -like all Greek houses of worship, making small pretense of outward and -visible signs of inward and spiritual grace. It may be sacred to St. -Irene, and very likely is, for the island takes its modern name from -that saint and boasts innumerable shrines to her memory. We take credit -to ourselves that, although Thera called loudly with manifold charms, we -first sought the sanctuary; but to our shame we did not remain there -long. A venerable priest, perspiring under a multitude of gorgeous -vestments, was officiating in the presence of a very meagre -congregation, composed of extremely young boys and a scant choir. -Fortunately for our peace of mind, this particular church’s one -foundation was on the side of the square away from the precipice, giving -a sense of security not otherwise to be gained. But the mountain, even -on its gentler side, is far from being gradual, and is only less steep -than toward the inner basin. The “blessed mutter of the mass” in Greek -is so unintelligible to foreign ears that it soon drove us forth into -the air outside and then to the little museum next door, where were -displayed the rather overwhelming antiquities of the place,—mainly vases -that had been made and used long before the eruption which destroyed the -island’s original form so many thousand years before. Many of these were -graceful in form, and some are in quite perfect preservation despite -their fragility and the enormous lapse of time, revealing still the rude -efforts of the early artist’s brush in geometric patterns, lines, -angles, and occasionally even primitive attempts to represent animal -shapes. Doubtless these relics are no more ancient than those to be seen -by the curious in the palace of Minos in Crete, and are paralleled in -antiquity by pottery remnants in other pre-Mycenæan sites; but for some -reason the lapse of ages since they were made and used comes home to one -with more reality in Thera than elsewhere, I suppose because of the -impressive story of the eruption at such a hazy distance before the dawn -of recorded history. So overpowering did these silent witnesses of a -bygone day prove, that we disposed of them with a celerity that would -have shocked an archæologist, and betook ourselves straightway to the -modern town without, which ran temptingly along the ridge of the summit -northward, presenting, like Taormina, a single narrow street lined with -the whitest of shops and dwellings, with here and there narrow byways of -steps leading up or down, as the case might be, to outlying clusters of -buildings. This main thoroughfare, hardly wider than a city sidewalk, -follows the uneven line of the mountain top, winding about and dodging -up and down, sometimes by inclined planes and sometimes by flights of -steps, such as are common enough in side streets of Italian or Greek -hill towns. - -From the higher points the city presented a sea of undulating white, the -roofs divided almost evenly between the flat, parapeted style, designed -to catch the falling rain, which is doubly precious in the island, and -the dome, or half-barrel style, which bears witness to the local -scarcity of timber, making necessary this self-supporting arch of -cement. Thus over and over again is the lack of wood and water brought -to mind. At a turn in the main street there disclosed itself a -fascinating vista of white walls, inclosing neat courtyards, -pebble-paved in black and white after the island manner, and framing in -the distance a many-arched campanile in clear relief against the -brilliant sky, the glare of the whiteness mitigated by the strong -oblique shadows and the bronze green of the bells. - -[Illustration: A THERAN STREET] - -Two things prevented our tarrying in Thera indefinitely. One was the -urgent need of returning to our steamer and pursuing our cruise through -the Ægean; the other was the lack of suitable lodging. However, it is -likely that the latter would have proved anything but an insuperable -obstacle if tested by an irresistible force of intrepid determination, -for lodging we could have found, despite the fact that Thera boasts no -hotel. Wandering along the street and stopping now and then to inspect -the curious wayside shops, or to gaze in wonder through gaps in the -walls of dwellings at the incredible gulf yawning beyond and beneath, we -came suddenly upon a coffee-house which completed our capture. The -proprietor, as it developed, spoke Italian enough to give us common -ground, ushered us out upon a balcony that looked toward the water, and -produced a huge flagon of the wine of the country. Ah, the wine of the -country! It was yellow. It was not sickish sweet, like the Samian that -Byron praised so. It was warming to the midriff and made one charitable -as one sipped. Overhead flapped a dingy awning in the lazy western -breeze. Below wound the donkey path, with its trains of asses silently -ascending and descending through the shimmering heat of the April -morning. Far, far beneath, and indeed almost directly at our feet, lay -the toy-ships and the steamer, close by the little hamlet of the landing -stage, where tiny people, like ants, scurried busily, but at this -distance made no sound. Across the sea of rising and falling roofs came -the tinkle of an insistent church bell, calling the congregation of some -church of St. Irene. Bliss like this is cheap at three drachmas, with a -trifling addition of Greek coppers for good-will! It was on this narrow -balcony overlooking the bay that we fell in love with Thera. Before we -had been merely prepossessed. - -The Greek word for hotel sounds suspiciously like “Senator Sheehan” in -the mouth of the native, as we had long ago learned; so we instituted -inquiry as to that feature of the town, in the hope some day of -returning thither for a more extended stay, with opportunity to explore -the surrounding country. A distant and not unpromising edifice was -pointed out, a coffee-house like our own, but provided with a large room -where rather dubious beds were sometimes spread for the weary, according -to our entertainer; and it may be that his shrug was the mere product of -professional jealousy. Inexorable fate, however, decreed that we should -not investigate, but content ourselves with rambling through the town -from end to end, enjoying its quaint architecture, its white walls -relieved only by touches of buff or the lightest of light blues, its -incomparable situation on this rocky saddle, and its views, either into -the chasm of the harbor or outward across the troubled expanse of the -Ægean to other neighboring islands. - -At the north end of the city, where the houses ceased and gave place to -the open ridge of the mountain, there stood an old mill, into the -cavernous depths of which we were bidden enter by an aged crone. It -revealed some very primitive machinery, the gearing being hewn out of -huge slices of round logs in which rude cogs were cut. Just outside -stood a sooty oven, for the miller not only ground the neighborhood -corn, but converted it into bread. Beyond the mill there was nothing in -the way of habitation, although on a distant bend of the crater there -was visible a white patch of basalt that bore the appearance of a -populous city with towers and battlements. Still farther to the north, -at the cape next the channel out to sea, lies an inconsiderable town, -similarly situated on the ridge, while along the bay to the south are -occasional settlements and windmills. But Thera town is the only -congested centre of population. - -In attempting to analyze the impression that Thera made on us, we have -come to the conclusion that its chief charm, aside from its curious -position, is its color; and that the difficulty of describing it is due -in large part to the inability to paint in words the amazing contrasts -of rock, city, and sky, not to mention the sea. One may depict, although -feebly, the architectural charm, with the aid of his camera, or, if duly -gifted, may chant the praise of Theran wine. With the aid of geological -statistics one may tell just how the mountain would appear if we could -draw off the ocean and expose its lower depths, leaving a circle of -mountain inclosing a three-thousand foot cup, and jagged central cones. -One might, by a superhuman effort, do justice to the importunity of the -begging children of the town. But to give a true account of Thera -demands the aid of the artist with his pigments, while best of all is a -personal visit, involving little time and trouble to one visiting -Greece—little trouble, that is to say, in comparison with the charms -that Thera has to show. And it is safe to say that every such visitor -will pick his way gingerly down over the slippery paving stones to the -landing below with a poignant sense of regret at leaving this beauty -spot of the Ægean, and sail out of the northern passage with a sigh, -looking back at the lights of Thera, on the rocky height above the bay, -mingling their blinking points with the steady stars of the warm -Mediterranean night. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XIX. NIOS; PAROS; - A MIDNIGHT MASS - -[Illustration] - - -We spent Easter Sunday at Paros. It proved to be a mild and not -especially remarkable day in the local church, which was old and quaint -and possessed of many highly interesting features within and without, of -which we must speak later on, for some of its portions date back to the -pagan days. Its floor was littered with the aromatic leaves which had -been dropped and trampled under foot the night before by the worshipers -at the midnight mass; for it appeared that the chief observance of the -feast in the Greek church was on the night before Easter, rather than on -the day itself. Indeed we ourselves had been so fortunate, on the -previous evening, as to attend this quaint nocturnal ceremony at the -neighboring island of Ios, or Nios, as it is variously called. - -Our little ship, as is the usual custom among the Greeks, had a shrine -in the end of its saloon, with an icon, and a lamp was perpetually -burning before it. The Greek takes his religion seriously, and makes it -a part of his life afloat and ashore, it would seem. On Good Friday, for -example, our national flag was lowered to half-mast and kept there in -token of mourning for the crucified Lord, until the church proclaimed -His rising from the dead, when it once again mounted joyously to the -peak. The men seemed religiously inclined, and it was in deference to a -request of the united crew, preferred while we lay in the harbor of -Santorin, that it was decided to run north from that island to Nios, -which was not far away and which possessed one of the best harbors in -the Ægean, in order that the native sailors and the captain might -observe the churchly festival according to custom—a request that was the -more readily granted because we were all rather anxious to see the -Easter-eve ceremony at its climax. Those who had witnessed it in -previous years vouched for it as highly interesting, and such proved to -be the fact; for between the ceremony itself and the excitement of -reaching the scene, this evening furnished one of the most enjoyable of -all our island experiences. - -In reply to questions touching upon the remoteness of the church at Nios -from the landing, the second officer, who spoke Italian, had assured us -with a high disregard of the truth that it was “vicino! vicino!” It was -pitch dark before we neared Nios, however, and as the moon was due to be -late in rising that night we got no warning glimpse of the land, but -were made aware of its approach only by a shapeless bulk in the dark -which suddenly appeared on either hand, the entrance to the harbor being -vaguely indicated by a single light, past which we felt our way at -little more than a drifting pace until we were dimly conscious of hills -all about, half-guessed rather than visible in the gloom. Then, faint -and far away, we began to hear the clamor of the village bells, rung -with that insistent clatter so familiar to those acquainted with -southern European churches. That their notes sounded so distant gave us -some idea at the outset that the mate’s “vicino” might prove to be a -rather misleading promise, but very little was to be told by the sound, -save that the churches from which the bells were pealing lay off -somewhere to the right and apparently up a hill. Light there was none, -not even a glimmer; and our three dories put off for the shore over an -inky sea in becoming and decorous silence, toward the point where a -gloom even more dense than the sky showed that there was land. The -effect of it all was curious and had not a little of solemnity in it, as -we groped our way to shore with careful oars and then felt about in the -dark for the landing. The forward boat soon announced that some stone -steps leading upward from the water had been found, and the rowers -immediately raised a shout for lights, as one by one we were handed up -the slimy stairs to the top of a broad stone quay, on which some white -buildings could be dimly seen. A lantern did materialize mysteriously -from some nook among the ghostly houses, and came bobbing down to the -water’s edge, serving little purpose, however, save to make the rest of -the darkness more obscure. By its diminished ray the party were -assembled in a compact body, and received admonition to keep together -and to follow as closely as possible the leader, who bore the light. - -These instructions, while simple enough to give, proved decidedly -difficult to follow. The moon was far below the horizon, and the stars, -while numerous and brilliant, gave little aid to strangers in a strange -land, who could see no more than that they were on a deserted pier -flanked by dim warehouses, and a long distance from the bells which were -calling the devout to midnight prayer. The lantern set off along the -flagstones of the deserted hamlet; and after it in single file clattered -the rest of us, keeping up as best we could. We emerged in short order -from the little group of huts by the wharf and came out into a vast and -silent country, where all was darker than before, save where the leading -lantern pursued its fantastic way upward over what turned out to be a -roughly paved mule track leading into a hill. Like most mule tracks, it -mounted by steps, rather than by inclines, and the progress of the long -file of our party was slow and painful, necessitating frequent halts on -the part of the guide with the lantern, while a warning word was -constantly being passed back along the stumbling line of pedestrians as -each in turn stubbed his toes over an unlooked-for rise in the grade. -There was little danger of wandering off the path, for it was bordered -by high banks. The one trouble was to keep one’s feet and not to stumble -as we climbed in the dark, able scarcely to see one another and much -less to see anything of the path. The bells ceased to ring as we -proceeded, and even that dim clue to the distance of the town was lost. -Decidedly it was weird, this stumbling walk up an unknown and -unfrequented island path in the dead of night; for it was long past -eleven of the clock, and the Easter mass, as we knew, should reach its -most interesting point at about twelve. Knowing this we made such haste -as we could and the little town of Nios stole upon us ere we were aware, -its silent buildings of gray closing in upon the road and surrounding us -without our realizing their presence, until a sudden turning of the way -caused the lantern far ahead to disappear entirely from our view in the -mazes of the town. - -It was as deserted as the little wharf had been. Moreover it was as -crooked as it was dark. Here and there an open doorway gave out across -the way a single bar of yellow light, but most of the habitations were -as silent as the tomb, their owners and occupants being in church long -before. On and on through a seeming labyrinth of little streets we -wound, the long thread of the party serving as the sole clue to the way, -as did Ariadne’s cord; for the lantern was never visible to the rear -guard now, owing to the turns and twists of the highway. Twice we met -belated church-goers coming down from side paths with their tiny -lanterns, and the utter astonishment on their faces at beholding this -unexpected inundation of foreigners at that unearthly hour of night was -as amusing as it was natural. Once the thread of the party was broken at -a corner, and for an anxious moment there was a council of war as to -which street to take. It was a lucky guess, however, for a sudden turn -brought the laggards out of the obscurity and into a lighted square -before the doors of the church itself—a tiny church, white walled and -low roofed, and filled apparently to its doors, while from its open -portals trickled the monotonous chant of a male choir, the voices always -returning to a well-marked and not unmelodious refrain. - -In some mysterious way, room was made for us in the stifling church, -crowded as it was with men and women. Candles furnished the only light. -On the right a choir of men and boys, led by the local schoolmaster, -chanted their unending, haunting minor litany. An old and bespectacled -priest peered down over the congregation from the door of the -iconostasis. Worshipers came and went. The men seemed especially devout, -taking up the icon before the entrance and kissing it passionately and -repeatedly. On each of us as we entered was pressed a slender taper of -yellow wax, perhaps a foot in length, and we stood crowded in the little -auditorium holding these before us expectantly, and regarded with lively -and good-humored curiosity by the good people within. Presently the -priest came forward from the door of the altar-screen with his candle -alight, which was the signal for an excited scramble by a dozen small -boys nearest him to get their tapers lighted first—after which the fire -ran from candle to candle until everybody bore his tiny torch; and -following the old priest, we all trooped out into the square before the -church, where the service continued. - -That was a sight not easily to be forgotten—the tiny square, in the -centre of which stood the catafalque of Christ, while all around stood -the throng of worshipers, each bearing his flaring taper, the whole -place flooded with a yellow glow. The monotone of the service continued -as before. The gentle night breeze sufficed now and then to put out an -unsheltered candle here and there, but as often as this occurred the -bystanders gave of their fire, and the illumination was renewed as often -as interrupted. - -The quaint service culminated with the proclamation of the priest that -Christ had risen,—"Christos anéste,"—at which magic words all restraint -was thrown off and the worshipers abandoned themselves to transports of -holy joy. A stalwart man seized the bell-rope that dangled outside the -church and rang a lively toccata on the multiple bells above, while -exuberant boys let fly explosive torpedoes at the walls of neighboring -houses, making a merry din after the true Mediterranean fashion; for the -religious festivals of all southern countries appear to be held fit -occasions for demonstrations akin unto those with which we are wont to -observe our own national birthday. We were soon aware that other -churches of the vicinity had reached the “Christos anéste” at about the -same hour, for distant bells and other firecrackers and torpedoes -speedily announced the rising of the Lord. - -Doubtless a part of the Easter abandon is due to the reaction from the -rigorous keeping of Lent among the Greeks, as well as to a devout -sentiment that renews itself annually at this festival with a fervor -that might well betoken the first novel discovery of eternal salvation -as a divine truth. The Greek Lent is an austere season, in which the -abstinence from food and wine is astonishingly thorough. Indeed, it has -been reported by various travelers in Hellas in years past that they -were seriously inconvenienced by the inability they met, especially in -Holy Week, to procure sufficient food; for the peasantry were -unanimously fasting, and unexpected wayfarers in the interior could find -but little cheer. The native manages to exist on surprisingly little -sustenance during the forty days. On the arrival of Easter it is not -strange that he casts restraint to the winds and manifests a delight -that is obviously unbounded. However, it need not be inferred from this -that undue license prevails, for this apparently was not the case—not in -Nios, at any rate. The service, after the interruption afforded by bells -and cannonading, resumed its course, and was said to endure until three -o'clock in the morning; a fact which might seem to indicate that the -Easter pleasuring was capable of a decent restraint and postponement, -although the Lord had officially risen and death was swallowed up in -victory. - -Our own devotion was not equal to the task of staying through this long -mass, as it was already well past the midnight hour, and we had made a -long and strenuous day of it. So, with repeated exchanges of “Christos -anéste” between ourselves and the villagers, we set out again through -the narrow byways of the town, and down over the rough mule path to the -ship, each of us bearing his flaring taper and shielding it as well as -possible from the night wind; for the sailors were bent on getting some -of that sacred flame aboard alive, and in consequence saw to it that -extinguished candles were promptly relighted lest we lose altogether the -precious fire. We made a long and ghostly procession of winking lights -as we streamed down over the hillside and out to the boats—a fitting -culmination to one of the most curious experiences which the Ægean -vouchsafed us. - -We found the “red eggs” peculiar to the Greek Easter awaiting us when we -came aboard—eggs, hard-boiled and colored with beet juice or some -similar coloring matter, bowls of which were destined to become a -familiar sight during the week or two that followed the Easter season. -The Greeks maintain that this is a commemoration of a miracle which was -once performed to convince a skeptical woman of the reality of the -resurrection. She was walking home, it seems, with an apron full of eggs -which she had bought, when she met a friend whose countenance expressed -unusual rejoicing, and who ran to meet her, crying, “Have you heard the -news?” “Surely not,” was the reply. “What is this news?” “Why, Christ -the Lord is risen!” “Indeed,” responded the skeptic, "that I cannot -believe; nor shall I believe it unless the eggs that I carry in my apron -shall have turned red." And red they proved to be when she looked at -them! - -Owing to the exhaustion due to the festivities of the night before, we -found Easter Sunday at Paros a quiet day indeed. The streets of the -little town proved to be practically deserted, for it was a day of -homekeeping, and no doubt one of feasting. The occasional vicious snap -of a firecracker was to be heard as we landed on the mole that serves -the chief town of Paros for a wharf and started for a short Sunday -morning ramble through the streets. From the landing stage the most -conspicuous object in Paros was a large white church not far from the -water, rejoicing in the name of the “Virgin of a Hundred Gates,” as we -were told we should interpret the epithet “hekatonpyliani.” It proved to -be a sort of triple church, possessing side chapels on the right and -left of the main auditorium, and almost as large. In that at the right -was to be seen a cruciform baptismal font, very venerable and only a -little raised from the level of the floor, indicating the uses to which -this apartment of the church was put. The presence of ancient marble -columns incorporated into this early Christian edifice was likewise -striking. In the main church the most noticeable thing was the -employment of a stone altar-screen, or iconostasis, with three doors -leading into the apse behind instead of the customary single one, an -arrangement which has often been commented upon as resembling the -proskenion of the ancient theatre. It was all deserted, and the air was -heavy with old incense and with the balsamic perfume of the leaves and -branches that had fallen to the floor and been trampled upon during the -mass of the previous night. It was all very still, very damp and cool, -and evidently very old, doubtless supplanting some previous pagan -shrine. - -In the court before the church stood a sort of abandoned monastery, as -at the pass of Daphne, only this one was spotless white, and with its -walls served to shut in completely the area in front of the church -itself. In a portion of the buildings of this inclosure is a small -museum, chiefly notable for inscriptions, one of which refers to -Archilochus, the writer of Iambic verse, who lived in Paros in the -seventh century before the birth of Christ. - -[Illustration: OLD COLUMNS IN CHURCH. PAROS] - -The chief fame of Paros was, of course, for its marbles. The quarries -whence these superb blocks came lay off to the northeast, we were aware; -and had time only allowed, they might have been explored with profit. -The Parian marble was the favorite one for statues, owing to its -incomparable purity and translucence, and the facility with which it -could be worked up to a high finish. It was quarried under ground, and -thus derived its designation, “lychnites,” or “quarried-by-candlelight.” -Those who have visited the subterranean chambers formed by the men who -anciently took marble from the spot relate that the exploration of the -quarries is fraught with considerable interest and with not a little -danger, owing to the complex nature of the galleries and the varying -levels. - -In wandering around the little modern town which occupies the site of -the ancient city of Paros, and bears the name of Paroikia, we found not -a little color to delight the eye, although the streets were generally -rather muddy and squalid. On the southerly side of the harbor, where the -basic rock of the island rises to a considerable height, there was -anciently a small acropolis, which is still crowned with a rather -massive tower built by the Franks out of bits of ancient marble -structures. From the outside, the curious log-cabin effect caused by -using marble columns for the walls, each drum laid with ends outward, -was most apparent and striking. Within we found a tiny shrine, deserted -as the great church had been, but still giving evidence of recent -religious activity. Aside from the remnants of old temples, serving as -the marble logs of this Frankish stronghold, there seemed to be little -in Paros to recall the days when she was one of the richest of all the -Athenian tributaries. A few prehistoric houses have been uncovered and -several ancient tombs. But the most lasting of all the classic monuments -are the quarries, now deserted, but still revealing the marks of the -ancient chisels, whence came the raw material for most of the famous -Greek sculptures preserved to us. - -To us, seated on the pebbly beach and idly listening to the lapping of -the Ægean waves, as we sunned ourselves and awaited the time for -embarking, there appeared a native, gorgeous in clothes of a -suspiciously American cut. He drew near, smiling frankly, and with a -comprehensive gesture which explicitly included the ladies in his query, -said: “Where do you fellers come from?” He had served in the American -navy, it appeared, and had voyaged as far as the Philippines. Other -Parians ranged themselves at a respectful distance and gazed in -open-mouthed admiration at their fellow townsman who understood how to -talk with the foreigners, and who walked along with a lady on either -side, whom he constantly addressed as “you fellers” to their unbounded -amusement and delight. We convoyed him to a wayside inn near the quay, -under two spindling plane trees, and plied him with coffee as a reward -for his courtesy and interest; and later we left him standing with bared -head watching our little ship steam away westward, toward the setting -sun and that land to which he hoped one day to follow us once more. - -Our return to Athens from our island cruise was by way of the -southeastern shore of the Peloponnesus, touching at Monemvasía, a rocky -promontory near the most southern cape, and connected with the mainland -by a very narrow isthmus, which it has even been necessary to bridge at -one point; so that, strictly speaking, Monemvasía is an island, rather -than a promontory or peninsula. It is a most striking rock, resembling -Gibraltar in shape, though vastly smaller. In fact, like Gibraltar, it -has the history of an important strategic point, though it is such no -longer. Its summit is still crowned by a system of defenses built by the -Franks, and the inclosure, which includes the entire top of the rock, -also contains a ruined church. A narrow and not unpicturesque town -straggles along the shore directly beneath the towering rock itself, -much as the town of Gibraltar does, and in it may be seen other ruined -churches, belonging to the Frankish period largely, and unused now. The -entrance to this village is through a formidable stone gateway in the -wall, which descends from the sheer side of the cliff above. A steep -zig-zag path leads up from the town to the fort, which although deserted -is kept locked, so that a key must be procured before ascending. - -Those who have seen the Norman defenses at the promontory of Cefalù, on -the northern coast of Sicily, will recognize at once a striking -similarity between that place and this Grecian one, not only from a -topographical standpoint, but from the arrangement of the walls at the -top and lower down at the gateway that bars the upward path. Cefalù, -however, is in a more ruinous condition than this Frankish fortress -to-day. In point of general situation and view from the summit the two -are certainly very similar, with their broad outlook over sea and -mainland. The sheer sides of the promontory made it a practically -inaccessible citadel from nearly every direction, save that restricted -portion up which the path ascends, and the defense of it against every -foe but starvation was an easy matter. Even besiegers found it no easy -thing to starve out the garrison, for it is on record that the stout old -Crusader Villehardouin sat down before the gates of Monemvasía for three -years before the inhabitants were forced to capitulate. - -The name of Monemvasía is derived from the fact that the isolated rock -crowned with the fortress is connected with the mainland by a single -narrow neck affording the only entrance. Hence the Greek μόνη ἔμβασις -(moné emvasis) was combined in the modern pronunciation to form the not -unmusical name of the place and has a perfectly natural explanation. -Moreover the same name, further shortened, lives again in the name of -“Malmsey” wine, which is made from grapes grown on rocky vineyards and -allowed to wither before gathering, as was the custom in the old -Monemvasía wine industry. - -Of course the village at the base of the cliff is wholly unimportant -now. Malmsey wine is no longer the chief product of this one solitary -spot, but comes from Santorin, Portugal, Madeira, and a dozen other -places, while Monemvasía and the derivation of the word are largely -forgotten. The town has sunk into a state of poverty, and as for the -fort, it is capable neither by artifice nor by natural surroundings of -defending anything of value, and hence is of no strategic importance. It -has had its day and probably will never have another. It is, however, -ruggedly beautiful, and the town, if degraded and half ruined, is still -highly picturesque, though unfortunately seldom visited by Greek -pilgrimages. It formed a fitting close for our island cruise, and indeed -it is, as we discovered, really an island itself, the ribbon of isthmus -connecting it with the Peloponnesus having been severed years ago, when -Monemvasía was worthy to be counted a stronghold. The gap in the land is -now spanned by a permanent bridge, so that practically Monemvasía is a -promontory still, lofty and rugged, but not ungraceful; and its imposing -bulk loomed large astern as we steamed back along the coast toward the -Piræus and home. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - CHAPTER XX. CORFU - -[Illustration] - - -The city of Patras, from which port we are about to take leave of -Greece, is probably the most incongruous city in the kingdom. To be sure -it is second in importance to Piræus, and the latter city is quite as -frankly commercial. But the proximity of the Piræus to Athens and the -presence of the Acropolis, crowned with its ruined temples always in the -field of view, conspire to take a little of the modern gloss off the -major port, and thus prevent it from displaying an entire lack of -harmony with those classic attributes which are the chief charm of -Hellas. Patras has no such environment. It has no such history. It is a -busy seaport town, a railroad centre, and it is about everything that -the rest of Greece is not. It even has a trolley line, which no other -Greek city at this writing has, although of course the years will bring -that convenience to Athens, as they have already brought the third-rail -inter-urban road to the sea. - -Patras appears to have been as uninteresting in antiquity as it is -to-day, though doubtless from its advantageous position on the Gulf of -Corinth it was always a more or less prosperous place. A very dubious -tradition says that the Apostle Andrew was crucified here; and whether -he was or not, St. Andrew has remained the patron saint of the town. In -any event, Patras shares with Corinth the celebrity of being one of the -earliest seats of Christianity in Greece, although it is a celebrity -which Corinth so far overshadows that poor Patras is generally -forgotten. It probably figures to most Hellenic travelers, as it has in -our own case, as either an entrance or an exit, and nothing more. Still, -after one has spent a fortnight or more in the wilds of the -Peloponnesian mountains, an evening stroll through the brilliantly -lighted streets of the city comes not amiss, and gives one the sense of -civilization once more after a prolonged experience of the pastoral and -archaic. - -It was stated early in this book that probably the ideal departure from -Greece is by way of the Piræus, as by that route one leaves with the -benediction of the Acropolis, which must be reckoned the crowning glory -of it all. But since we have elected to enter by the eastern gate in -voyaging through these pages, it is our lot to depart by the western, -and to journey back to Italy by way of Corfu, the island of Nausicaa. It -is not to be regretted, after all. One might look far for a lovelier -view than that to be had from the harbor of Patras. The narrow strait -that leads into the Corinthian Gulf affords a splendid panorama of -mountain and hill on the farther side, as the northern coast sweeps away -toward the east; while outside, toward the setting sun, one may see the -huge blue shapes of “shady Zakynthos,” and “low-lying” Ithaca—which it -has always struck me is not low-lying at all, but decidedly hilly. -Through the straits and past these islands the steamers thread their -way, turning northward into the Adriatic and heading for -Corfu—generally, alas, by night. - -The redeeming feature of this arrangement is that, while it robs one of -a most imposing view of receding Greece, it gives a compensatingly -beautiful approach to Corfu on the following morning; and there is not a -more charming island in the world. It lies close to the Albanian shore, -and with reference to the voyage between Patras and Brindisi it is -almost exactly half way. In Greek it still bears the name of Kerkyra, a -survival of the ancient Corcyra, the name by which it was known in the -days when Athens and Corinth fought over it. The ancients affected to -believe it the island mentioned in the Odyssey as “Scheria,” the -Phæacian land ruled over by King Alcinoös; and there is no very good -reason why we also should not accept this story and call it the very -land where the wily Odysseus was cast ashore, the more especially since -his ship, converted into stone by the angry Poseidon, is still to be -seen in the mouth of a tiny bay not far from the city! We may easily -drive down to it and, if we choose, pick out the spot on shore where the -hero was wakened from his dreams by the shouts of Nausicaa and the maids -as they played at ball on the beach while the washing was drying. - -In the ancient days, when navigation was conducted in primitive fashion -without the aid of the mariner’s compass, and when the only security lay -in creeping from island to island and hugging the shore, Corcyra became -a most important strategic point. In their conquest of the west, the -Greeks were wont to sail northward as far as this island, skirting the -mainland of Greece, and thence to strike off westward to the heel of -Italy, where the land again afforded them guidance and supplies until -they reached the straits of Messina. So that the route of Odysseus -homeward from the haunts of Scylla and Charybdis and the isle Ortygia -was by no means an unusual or roundabout one. This course of western -navigation gave rise to continual bickering among the great powers of -old as to the control of Corcyra, and Thucydides makes the contention -over the island the real starting-point of the difficulties that -culminated in the Peloponnesian war and in the overthrow of the Athenian -empire. - -Modern Corfu has a very good outer harbor, suitable for large craft, -although landing, as usual, is possible only by means of small boats. -The declaration in Bædeker that the boatmen are insolent and rapacious -appears no longer to be true. The matter of ferriage to shore seems to -have been made the subject of wise regulation, and the charge for the -short row is no longer extortionate. From the water the city presents a -decidedly formidable appearance, being protected by some massive -fortifications which were doubtless regarded as impregnable in their -day, but which are unimportant now. They are of Venetian build, as are -so many of the fortresses in Greek waters. Aside from the frowning -ramparts of these ancient defenses, the town is a peaceful looking place -in the extreme, with its tall white and gray houses, green-shuttered and -trim. It is a town by no means devoid of picturesqueness, although it -will take but a few moments’ inspection to convince the visitor that -Corfu is by nature Italian rather than Greek, despite its incorporation -in the domains of King George. Corfu has always been in closer touch -with western Europe than with the East, and it is doubtless because she -has enjoyed so intimate a connection with Italy that her external -aspects are anything but Hellenic. Moreover the English were for some -years the suzerains of the island, and have left their mark on it, for -the island’s good, although it is many years since the British -government honorably surrendered the land to Greece, in deference to the -wish of the inhabitants. - -Despite the Venetian character of the fortresses, they remind one -continually of Gibraltar, although of course infinitely less extensive. -Particularly is this true of the "fortezza nuova," which it is well -worth while to explore because of the fine view over the city and harbor -to be had from its highest point. A custodian resides in a tiny cabin on -the height and offers a perfectly needless telescope in the hope of -fees, although it is doubtful that many ever care to supplement the eye -by recourse to the glass. The prospect certainly is incomparably -beautiful. Below lies the city with its narrow streets and lofty -buildings, and before it the bay decked with white ships, contrasting -with the almost incredible blue of the water, for the ocean is nowhere -bluer than at Corfu. Across the straits not many miles away rises the -bluff and mountainous mainland of Albania and Epirus, stretching off -north and south into illimitable distances. Behind the town the country -rolls away into most fertile swales and meadows, bounded on the far -north by a high and apparently barren mountain. All the narrow southern -end of the island is a veritable garden, well watered, well wooded, -covered with grass and flowers, and rising here and there into low, -tree-clad hills. Trim villas dot the landscape, and on a distant hill -may be seen from afar the gleaming walls of the palace which belonged to -the ill-fated Empress of Austria. - -From the fortress southward toward the bay where lies the “ship of -Ulysses,” there runs a beautiful esplanade along the water front, lined -with trees and flanked on the landward side by villas with most -luxuriant gardens. Even though the British occupation came to an end as -long ago as 1865, the roadways of the island bear the marks of the -British thoroughness, and make riding in Corfu a pleasure. The houses -along the way are largely of the summer-residence variety, the property -of wealthy foreigners rather than of native Corfiotes; and their -gardens, especially in the springtime, are a riot of roses, tumbling -over the high walls, or clambering all over the houses themselves, and -making the air heavy with their fragrance. The trees are no less -beautiful, and the roads are well shaded by them. After a month or so of -the comparatively treeless and often barren mainland of Greece, this -exuberant Eden is a source of keen enjoyment with its wanton profligacy -of bloom. - -[Illustration: “SHIP OF ULYSSES.” CORFU] - -It cannot be more than two miles, and perhaps it is rather less, over a -smooth road and through a continuous succession of gardens, from the -town of Corfu out to the little knoll which overlooks the bay and “ship -of Ulysses,” and the view down on that most picturesque islet and across -the placid waters of the narrow arm of the sea in which it lies, -furnishes one of the most beautiful prospects in the island. The “ship” -itself is a rather diminutive rock not far from shore, almost completely -enshrouded in sombre, slender cypresses, which give it its supposed -similarity to the Phæacian bark of the wily Ithacan. Nor is it a -similarity that is entirely imaginary. Seen from a distance, the pointed -trees grouped in a dark mass on this tiny isle do give the general -effect of a vessel. Those who know the picture called the “Island of -Death” will be struck at once with the similarity between the “ship” and -the painter’s ideal of the abode of shades; and with the best of -reasons, for it is said that this island was the model employed. Amidst -the dusk of the crowded trees one may distinguish a monastery, tenanted -we were told by a single monk, while on a neighboring island, closer to -the shore and connected therewith by a sort of rocky causeway, there is -another monastery occupied by some band of religious brothers. This -island also is not without its charms, but the eye always returns to -that mournful abandoned “ship,” which surpasses in its weird fascination -any other thing that Corfu has to show. - -The Villa Achilleion, which lies off to the southward on a lofty hill, -shares with the ship of Ulysses the attention of the average visitor, -and worthily so, not only because of the great beauty of the villa -itself, with its mural paintings of classic subjects and its wonderful -gardens, but because of the exquisite view that is to be had over the -island from the spot. The lively verdure, the vivid blueness of the sea, -and the gloomy rocks of the Turkish shore, all combine to form a picture -not soon to be forgotten. As for the Achilleion itself, it was built for -the Empress of Austria, who was assassinated some years ago, and the -estate has now, I believe, passed into private hands. The road to it is -excellent, and occasional bits of the scenery along the way are highly -picturesque, with now and then an isolated and many-arched campanile, -adorned with its multiple bells in the Greek manner, obtruding itself -unexpectedly from the trees. - -There are unquestionably many rides around the island that are quite as -enjoyable as this, but the ordinary visitor is doubtless the one who -stops over for a few hours only, during the stay of his steamer in the -port, and therefore has little time for more than the sights described. -Those who are able to make the island more than a brief way-station on -the way to or from Greece express themselves as enchanted with it, and -the number of attractive villas built by foreigners of means would seem -to emphasize the statement. Corfu as an island is altogether lovely. - -The city itself has already been referred to as more Italian than Greek -in appearance. Nevertheless it is really Greek, and its shops are -certainly more like those of Athens than like those of Italy, while the -ordinary signboards of the street are in the Greek characters. It is the -height of the houses, the narrowness of the streets, the occasional -archways, and the fact that almost everybody can speak Italian, that -give the unmistakable Italian touch to Corfu after one has seen the -broader highways and lower structures of Athens. But Greco-Italian as it -is, one cannot get away from the fact that, after all, it reminds one -quite as much of Gibraltar as of anything. The town does this, quite as -much as the fortresses, with its narrow ways and its evident -cosmopolitanism. The shops, although devoted largely to Greek -merchandise, are a good deal like the Gibraltar bazaars, and make quite -as irresistible an appeal to the pocket, with their gorgeous embroidered -jackets, blue and gold vestments, and other barbaric but incredibly -magnificent fripperies, fresh from the tailor’s hand, and not, as at -Athens, generally the wares of second-hand dealers. To see peasant -jackets and vests of red and blue, and heavily ornamented with gold -tracery, go to Corfu. Nothing at Athens approaches the Corfiote display. - -There are some archæological remains at Corfu, but not of commanding -prominence; and the average visitor, busied with the contemplation of -the loveliness of the country and the quaintness of the town for a few -brief hours, probably omits to hunt them up, as we ourselves did. The -most obvious monuments of the past are those of the medieval period, the -Venetian strongholds that served to protect Corfu when the island was an -important bulwark against the Saracens. Of the days when the rival -powers of classic Greece warred over the Corcyreans and their fertile -island, little trace has survived. There is a very old tomb in the -southerly suburb of Kastradès and the foundation of an ancient temple, -but neither is to be compared for interest with the host of monuments of -equal antiquity to be seen in Greece and even in Sicily. Corfu, like -Italy, has suffered a loss of the evidences of her antiquity by being so -constantly on the great highway to western Europe. She has never been -left to one side, as Greece so long was. Her fertility prevented her -degenerating into mere barren pasturage, as happened in Hellas proper, -and her situation made her important all through the Middle Ages, just -as it made her important during the expansion period of the Athenian -empire. And as Rome, through active and continuous existence, has -gradually eaten up her own ancient monuments before they achieved the -value of great age, so Corfu has lost almost entirely all trace of what -the ancient Corcyreans built; while Athens, through her long ages of -unimportance, preserved much of her classic monumental glories -unimpaired, and thanks to an awakened appreciation of them will cherish -them for all time. - -The long years in which Greece lay fallow and deserted now appear not to -have been in vain. Through that period of neglect her ancient sites and -monuments lay buried and forgotten, but intact. Men were too busy -exploring and expanding elsewhere to waste a thought on the dead past. -Even the revival of learning, which exhumed the classic writings from -the oblivion of monkish cells and made the literature of Greece live -again, was insufficient to give back to the world the actual physical -monuments of that classic time. It has remained for the present day, -when the earth has been all but completely overrun and when men have -found a dearth of new worlds to conquer, that we have had the time and -the interest to turn back to Greece, sweep away the rubbish of ages, and -give back to the light of day the palaces of Agamemnon, the strongholds -of Tiryns, and the hoary old labyrinth of Minos. On the fringes of Magna -Græcia, where the empire was in touch with the unceasing tides of -western civilization, as in Sicily and at Corfu, the remnants of the -older days fared but ill. It was in the mountain fastnesses of the -Peloponnesus and in the gloomy glens of Delphi that so much of the -ancient, and even of the prehistoric and preheroic days, survived as to -give us moderns even a more definite knowledge of the times of the -Achæans and Trojans than perhaps even Homer himself had. - ------------------------------------------------------------------------- - - INDEX - - INDEX - - - Acrocorinth, 169. - - Acropolis, of Athens, first views of, 46; - description of, 76; - approach to, 79; - gates of, 79; - view from, 79, 80. - - Acropolis Museum, 86, 91, 92. - - Ægina, 39, 80, 137-139. - - Agamemnon, 28, 167, 175, 180, 181. - - Agora, at Athens, 76, 106. - - Alcmæonidæ, 165. - - Alpheios, 223, 256-258. - - Andhritsæna, 227, 229-246. - - Aphrodite, of Praxiteles, 315. - - Apollo, 154, 243, 277, 278, 299. - - Apoxyomenos, of Lysippus, 166. - - Aqueduct, at Samos, 291-294. - - Arcadia, 211-228. - - Arch, development of, 181, 192. - - Areopagus, 107. - - Argive Heræum, 186. - - Argos, 187, 172-192. - - Ariadne, 31. - - Artemis, 279, 300. - - Asklepios, 3, 4, 97, 98, 203, 207, 308-311. - - Athena, birth of, 83, 86; - strife of, with Poseidon, 83, 90; - sacred image of, 90; - Archaic representations of, 92; - Pronoia, 164,168. - - Athens, approaches to, 46; - modern city, 50-75; - ancient traditions of, 51; - growth and history, 51, 52; - street venders, 55; - street names, 57; - stadium, 58; - street car system, 58; - climate of, 59, 60; - street scenes, 61-68; - newspapers, 63; - Shoe Lane, 63, 64; - shopping, 64; - street of the coppersmiths, 66; - giaourti, 68; - modern architecture, 69; - churches, 69, 70; - icons, 69; - soldiery, 70, 71; - funerals, 73; - conversation beads, 74; - Acropolis, 76; - destruction of, by Persians, 88. - - Atreus, treasury of, 183, 184. - - - “Balaustion,” 273, 330. - - Bassæ, 235-245. - - Bee-hive tombs, 183, 184. - - Bema, 109. - - Beulé gate, 79. - - Branchidæ, 297-303. - - Burial customs, 73, 246. - - - Candia, 26-29. - - Canea, 18-26. - - Caryatid portico, 91. - - Castalian spring, 167. - - Cephissus, 50. - - Ceramicus, 112-118. - - Charioteer, statue of, at Delphi, 166. - - Choragic monument of Lysicrates, 76, 104. - - Churches, Greek, 69, 70. - - Cnidos, 314-317. - - Cnossos, 29-36. - - Coffee, 66, 67. - - Coffee-houses, 53, 54. - - Corcyra (Kerkyra) 370. - - Corfu, 368-380. - - Corinth, 169, 170. - - Corinthian canal, 148, 149. - - Corinthian capitals, 105. - - Corinthian Gulf, 149, 150. - - Cos, 304-313. - - Crete, 18-36. - - Cr[oe]sus, 156; - trial of oracles by, 160, 161; - gifts to oracle at Delphi, 161-163. - - Cyclopean masonry, 175, 189. - - Cyclopes, 191. - - - Dances, of peasants, 139-145. - - Daphne, pass of, 124; - convent of, 125. - - Delos, 272-285; - legend of, 275; - dual nature, 276; - excavations at, 277; - ancient houses, 279-281. - - Delphi, 146-168; - excavations at, 153-158; - legend of, 154, 155; - oracle at, 155-157, 159-165; - gifts of Cr[oe]sus to oracle, 161-163; - great temple at, 165; - corruption of oracle, 157-165; - statue of charioteer, 166. - - Demeter, 128, 130. - - Dipylon, 112. - - Drachma, fluctuation of, 71-73. - - Dragoman, 212. - - Dress, of peasants, 142, 171, 201. - - - Easter eggs, 360. - - Eleusinian mysteries, 128. - - Eleusis, 124-132. - - Elgin marbles, 83, 86. - - Embroideries, 311, 325. - - Ephebus, bronze statue at Athens, 118, 119. - - Epidaurus, 198-210. - - Erechtheum, 88; - sacred precinct of, 90. - - Erechtheus, 89. - - - Giaourti, 68. - - Greece, traveling in, 1-17; - entrances to, 37-49; - landing in, 44. - - Greek churches, 69, 70. - - Greek language, 9-13. - - Greek people, character of, 14, 15, 53, 54. - - Gremka, 255. - - - Hadrian, arch of, 48, 104. - - Halicarnassus, 313. - - Hera, 275, 294. - - Heræum, Argive, 186; - at Olympia, 260; - at Samos, 291-294. - - Hermes, of Praxiteles, 268, 269. - - Herodotus, 90, 160-163, 290, 291. - - Hippocrates, tree of, at Cos, 307. - - Hippodameia, 266. - - Hymettus, 39, 47. - - - Icons, 69. - - Ictinus, 81, 243. - - Ios (Nios) 352-360. - - Islands, of the Ægean, 272-367; - geographical arrangement, 273; - communication with, 274. - - - Karytæna, 224. - - King George, 74, 75. - - Knights of Rhodes, 305, 319. - - - Labyrinth, of Minos, 31, 32. - - Lindos, 318. - - Lion Gate, at Mycenæ, 178, 179. - - Long walls, at Athens, 42. - - Loukoumi, 25. - - Lycabettus, 38. - - Lysippus, 166. - - - Malmsey wine, 367. - - Marathon, 133. - - Mars Hill, 76, 88, 107. - - Mausoleum, 313. - - Megalokastron, 27. - - Megalopolis, 218-223. - - Menidi, dances at, 139-145. - - Midnight mass, 353-361. - - Minoan age, 28. - - Minos, 27-31; - throne of, 33. - - Minotaur, 31, 32, 89, 112. - - Monemvasía, 365-367. - - Mycenæ, 169-186; - accommodation at, 173; - excavations at, 175; - acropolis of, 177; - Lion Gate, 178, 179; - Cyclopean masonry, 175, 178, 179; - inverted columns, 178; - tombs at, 180; - reservoir, 182; - treasury of Atreus, 183. - - Mycenæan age, 28; - stone pillars of, 33, 178. - - Mycenæan relics at Athens, 120-122. - - Mykale, 288. - - - National Museum, at Athens, 118. - - Nauplia, 193-198. - - Nausicaa, 371. - - Navigation, in ancient times, 273, 371. - - Newspapers, 10, 63. - - Niké Apteros, temple of, 80; - binding sandal, 81; - of Pæonius, 263, 270. - - - Odeon of Herodes Atticus, 96. - - Odysseus, 16, 17, 370. - - [OE]nomaus, legend of, 266. - - Olympia, overland route to, 247-258; - site of, 259-271; - temple of Zeus at, 260, 263. - - Olympian Zeus, temple of, at Athens, 48, 76, 104. - - Olympic games, 264-266; - modern, 271. - - Orientation of temples, 242. - - - Paganism, traces of, in Greek church, 3, 4. - - Painting, of statues, 91. - - Panathenaic festival, 89. - - Parian marble, 362. - - Parnassus, 145, 151. - - Paros, 351, 361-365. - - Parthenon, 3, 4; - destruction by Morosini, 77, 85; - description of, 82-88; - pedimental sculptures of, 83; - curious architectural devices, 84-86; - restorations of, 86; - frieze of, 87. - - Patras, 368. - - Paul, sermon to the Athenians, 107. - - Peasant dances, 139-145. - - Peasant dress, 142, 171, 201. - - Pedestal of Agrippa, 81. - - Pedimental sculptures, of Parthenon, 83; - at Olympia, 267, 268. - - Pelops, 266. - - Pentelic marble, 134. - - Pentelicus, 38, 134. - - Pericles, 42. - - Persians, invasion by, 87, 88; - at Delphi, 164. - - Phalerum, 45. - - Philopappos, monument of, 47. - - Piraeus, 39-46. - - Pnyx, 108. - - Political customs, 61. - - Polychrome decoration of temples, 92. - - Polycrates, 290. - - Poseidon, strife with Athena, 83, 90. - - Praxiteles, 268, 315. - - Propylæa, 79, 80, 81. - - Ptolemy II., 311. - - Pythagoras, 291. - - - Religious anniversaries, 62, 353-361. - - Reservoir, at Mycenæ, 182. - - Resinated wine, 137. - - Rhodes, 318-333; - Colossus of, 332. - - Rhodian plates, 323, 324. - - Routes to Greece, 15, 16. - - - St. Elias, successor of ancient Helios, 5. - - Salamis, 39, 43, 132. - - Samos, 286-297. - - Santorin, 334-350. - - “Ship of Ulysses,” 375. - - Shoe Lane, at Athens, 63-65. - - Shopping in Athens, 63-65. - - Soldiery, 70, 71. - - Sparta, 216. - - Stage, use of, in Greek theatre, 100, 101. - - Stoa, 106. - - Stoics, 106. - - Suda Bay, 19, 25, 26. - - Sunium, 37, 134-138. - - - Taÿgetos, 216. - - Temples, survival of, as Christian churches, 4. - - Theatre of Dionysus, 98; - of Epidaurus, 204. - - Theatres, 99-103. - - Themistoclean wall, 113. - - Themistocles, 42, 113. - - Theocritus, 312. - - Thera, 334-350. - - Theseum, 110. - - Theseus, 31, 89, 111. - - Tiryns, 188-192. - - Tomb-sculpture, 114-118. - - Tombs, at Mycenæ, 183, 184. - - Tower of the Winds, 105. - - Treasury of Atreus, 183. - - Troy, 28, 36. - - - Villa Achilleion, 376. - - “Virgin of a Hundred Gates,” 361. - - Votive offerings, 126. - - - Xerxes, 87, 88. - - - Zeus, legends of, in Crete, 30; - temple in Athens, 48, 76, 104; - temple at Olympia, 260; - statue at Olympia, 263; - see also, 275 _et seq._ - - - - - ~The Riverside Press~ - - CAMBRIDGE · MASSACHUSETTS - - U · S · A - - - - - Transcriber’s Note - -The table at the end of this note summarizes any corrections to the text -that have been deemed to be printer’s errors. - -The spelling of Greek place-names may occasionally use the terminal -‘-us’ interchangeably with the Greek ‘-os’, especially in the Index. -Both are retained. - -The latinized Greek word ‘lepta’ is occasionally given with an accented -‘a’, either ‘à’ or ‘á’. All have been retained as printed. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Greece and the Ægean Islands, by -Philip Sanford Marden - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK GREECE AND THE ÆGEAN ISLANDS *** - -***** This file should be named 50106-0.txt or 50106-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/1/0/50106/ - -Produced by KD Weeks, Shaun Pinder and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - |