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diff --git a/old/7bct210.txt b/old/7bct210.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..b6f0041 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/7bct210.txt @@ -0,0 +1,1578 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Buried Cities, Volume 2, by Jennie Hall +#2 in our series by Jennie Hall + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Buried Cities, Volume 2 + Olympia + +Author: Jennie Hall + +Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9626] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 + +OLYMPIA + +BY + +JENNIE HALL + +Author of "Four Old Greeks," Etc. Instructor in History and English in +the Francis W. Parker School, Chicago + +With Many Drawings and Photographs From Original Sources + + + +The publishers are grateful to the estate of Miss Jennie Hall and to her +many friends for assistance in planning the publication of this book. +Especial thanks are due to Miss Nell C. Curtis of the Lincoln School, +New York City, for helping to finish Miss Hall's work of choosing the +pictures, and to Miss Irene I. Cleaves of the Francis Parker School, +Chicago, who wrote the captions. It was Miss Katharine Taylor, now of +the Shady Hill School, Cambridge, who brought these stories to our +attention. + + + + +FOREWORD: TO BOYS AND GIRLS + +Do you like to dig for hidden treasure? Have you ever found Indian +arrowheads or Indian pottery? I knew a boy who was digging a cave in +a sandy place, and he found an Indian grave. With his own hands he +uncovered the bones and skull of some brave warrior. That brown skull +was more precious to him than a mint of money. Another boy I knew was +making a cave of his own. Suddenly he dug into an older one made years +before. He crawled into it with a leaping heart and began to explore. He +found an old carpet and a bit of burned candle. They proved that some +one had lived there. What kind of a man had he been and what kind +of life had he lived--black or white or red, robber or beggar or +adventurer? Some of us were walking in the woods one day when we saw a +bone sticking out of the ground. Luckily we had a spade, and we set to +work digging. Not one moment was the tool idle. First one bone and then +another came to light and among them a perfect horse's skull. We felt as +though we had rescued Captain Kidd's treasure, and we went home draped +in bones. + +Suppose that instead of finding the bones of a horse we had uncovered a +gold-wrapped king. Suppose that instead of a deserted cave that boy +had dug into a whole buried city with theaters and mills and shops and +beautiful houses. Suppose that instead of picking up an Indian arrowhead +you could find old golden vases and crowns and bronze swords lying in +the earth. If you could be a digger and a finder and could choose your +find, would you choose a marble statue or a buried bakeshop with bread +two thousand years old still in the oven or a king's grave filled with +golden gifts? It is of such digging and such finding that this book +tells. + + + +CONTENTS: + + 1. Two Winners of Crowns + + 2. How a City Was Lost + + _Pictures of Olympia_: + + Entrance to Stadion + + Gymnasium + + Boys in Gymnasium + + Temple of Zeus + + The Labors of Herakles + + The Statue of Victory + + The Hermes of Praxiteles + + The Temple of Hera + + Head of an Athlete + + A Greek Horseman + + + + +OLYMPIA + +TWO WINNERS OF CROWNS + +The July sun was blazing over the country of Greece. Dust from the dry +plain hung in the air. But what cared the happy travelers for dust or +heat? They were on their way to Olympia to see the games. Every road +teemed with a chattering crowd of men and boys afoot and on horses. They +wound down from the high mountains to the north. They came along the +valley from the east and out from among the hills to the south. Up from +the sea led the sacred road, the busiest of all. A little caravan of men +and horses was trying to hurry ahead through the throng. The master +rode in front looking anxiously before him as though he did not see the +crowd. After him rode a lad. His eyes were flashing eagerly here and +there over the strange throng. A man walked beside the horse and watched +the boy smilingly. Behind them came a string of pack horses with slaves +to guard the loads of wine and food and tents and blankets for their +master's camp. + +"What a strange-looking man, Glaucon!" said the boy. "He has a dark +skin." + +The boy's own skin was fair, and under his hat his hair was golden. As +he spoke he pointed to a man on the road who was also riding at the head +of a little caravan. His skin was dark. Shining black hair covered his +ears. His garment was gay with colored stripes. + +"He is a merchant from Egypt," answered the man. "He will have curious +things to sell--vases of glass, beads of amber, carved ivory, and +scrolls gay with painted figures. You must see them, Charmides." + +But already the boy had forgotten the Egyptian. + +"See the chariot!" he cried. + +It was slowly rolling along the stony road. A grave, handsome man stood +in it holding the reins. Beside him stood another man with a staff in +his hand. Behind the chariot walked two bowmen. After them followed a +long line of pack horses led by slaves. "They are the delegates from +Athens," explained Glaucon. "There are, doubtless, rich gifts for Zeus +on the horses and perhaps some stone tablets engraved with new laws." + +But the boy was not listening. + +"Jugglers! Jugglers!" he cried. + +And there they were at the side of the road, showing their tricks and +begging for coins. One man was walking on his hands and tossing a ball +about with his feet. Another was swallowing a sword. + +"Stop, Glaucon!" cried Charmides, "I must see him. He will kill +himself." + +"No, my little master," replied the slave. "You shall see him again at +Olympia. See your father. He would be vexed if we waited." + +And there was the master ahead, pushing forward rapidly, looking neither +to the right hand nor the left. The boy sighed. + +"He is hurrying to see Creon. He forgets me!" he thought. + +But immediately his eyes were caught by some new thing, and his face +was gay again. So the little company traveled up the sloping road amid +interesting sights. For here were people from all the corners of the +known world--Greeks from Asia in trailing robes, Arabs in white turbans, +black men from Egypt, kings from Sicily, Persians with their curled +beards, half civilized men from the north in garments of skin. "See!" +said Glaucon at last as they reached a hilltop, "the temple!" + +He pointed ahead. There shone the tip of the roof and its gold ornament. +Hovering above was a marble statue with spread wings. + +"And there is Victory!" whispered Charmides. "She is waiting for Creon. +She will never wait for me," and he sighed. + +The crowd broke into a shout when they saw the temple. A company of +young men flew by, singing a song. Charmides passed a sick man. The +slaves had set down his litter, and he had stretched out his hands +toward the temple and was praying. For the sick were sometimes cured +by a visit to Olympia. The boy's father had struck his heels into his +horse's sides and was galloping forward, calling to his followers to +hasten. + +In a few moments they reached higher land. Then they saw the sacred +place spread out before them. There was the wall all around it. Inside +it shone a few buildings and a thousand statues. Along one side +stretched a row of little marble treasure houses. At the far corner lay +the stadion with its rows of stone seats. Nearer and outside the wall +was the gymnasium. Even from a distance Charmides could see men running +about in the court. + +"There are the athletes!" he thought. "Creon is with them." + +Behind all these buildings rose a great hill, dark green with trees. +Down from the hill poured a little stream. It met a wide river that +wound far through the valley. In the angle of these rivers lay Olympia. +The temple and walls and gymnasium were all of stone and looked as +though they had been there forever. But in the meadow all around the +sacred place was a city of winged tents. There were little shapeless +ones of skins lying over sticks. There were round huts woven of rushes. +There were sheds of poles with green boughs laid upon them. There were +tall tents of gaily striped canvas. Farther off were horses tethered. +And everywhere were gaily robed men moving about. Menon, Charmides' +father, looking ahead from the high place, turned to a slave. + +"Run on quickly," he said. "Save a camping place for us there on Mount +Kronion, under the trees." + +The man was off. Menon spoke to the other servants. "Push forward and +make camp. I will visit the gymnasium. Come, Charmides, we will go to +see Creon." + +They rode down the slope toward Olympia. As they passed among the tents +they saw friends and exchanged kind greetings. + +"Ah, Menon!" called one. "There is good news of Creon. Every one expects +great things of him." + +"I have kept room for your camp next my tent, Menon," said another. + +"Here are sights for you, Charmides," said a kind old man. + +Charmides caught a glimpse of gleaming marble among the crowd and +guessed that some sculptor was showing his statues for sale. Yonder was +a barber's tent. Gentlemen were sitting in chairs and men were cutting +their hair or rubbing their faces smooth with stone. In one place a +man was standing on a little platform. A crowd was gathered about him +listening, while he read from a scroll in his hands. + +But the boy had only a glimpse of these things, for his father was +hurrying on. In a moment they crossed a bridge over a river and stopped +before a low, wide building. Glaucon helped Charmides off his horse. +Menon spoke a few words to the porter at the gate. The man opened the +door and led the visitors in. Charmides limped along beside his father, +for he was lame. That was what had made him sigh when he had seen +Victory hovering over Olympia. She would never give him the olive +branch. But now he did not think of that. His heart was beating fast. +His eyes were big. For before him lay a great open court baking in the +sun. More than a hundred boys were at work there, leaping, wrestling, +hurling the disk, throwing spears. During the past months they had been +living here, training for the games. The sun had browned their bare +bodies. Now their smooth skins were shining with sweat and oil. As they +bent and twisted they looked like beautiful statues turned brown and +come alive. Among them walked men in long purple robes. They seemed to +be giving commands. + +"They are the judges," whispered Glaucon. "They train the boys." + +All around the hot court ran a deep, shady portico. Here boys lay on +the tiled floor or on stone benches, resting from their exercise. Near +Charmides stood one with his back turned. He was scraping the oil and +dust from his body with a strigil. Charmides' eyes danced with joy +at the beauty of the firm, round legs and the muscles moving in the +shoulders. Then the athlete turned toward the visitors and Charmides +cried out, "Creon!" and ran and threw his arms around him. + +Then there was gay talk; Creon asked about the home and mother and +sisters in Athens, for he had been here in training for almost ten +months. Menon and Charmides had a thousand questions about the games. + +"I know I shall win, father," said Creon softly. "Four nights ago Hermes +appeared to me in my sleep and smiled upon me. I awoke suddenly and +there was a strange, sweet perfume in the air." + +Tears sprang into his father's eyes. "Now blessed be the gods!" he +cried, "and most blessed Hermes, the god of the gymnasium!" + +After a little Menon and Charmides said farewell and went away through +the chattering crowd and up under the cool trees on Mount Kronion to +their camp. The slaves had cut poles and set them up and thrown a wide +linen cover over them. Under it they had put a little table holding +lumps of brown cheese, a flat loaf of bread, a basket of figs, a pile +of crisp lettuce. Just outside the tent grazed a few goats. A man in a +soiled tunic was squatted milking one. Menon's slave stood waiting and, +as his master came up, he took the big red bowl of foaming milk and +carried it to the table. The goatherd picked up his long crook and +started his flock on, calling, "Milk! Milk to sell!" + +Menon was gay now. His worries were over. His camp was pitched in a +pleasant place. His son was well and sure of victory. + +"Come, little son," he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as a +wolf. But first our thanks to the gods." + +A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offering +it to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into the +blue heavens. + +"O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen! And to Zeus, the +father, and to all the immortals be thanks." + +As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground. +That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his master +to lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same for +Charmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey, +the games to-morrow, Creon's training. But Charmides was silent. At last +his father said: + +"Well, little wolf, you surely are gulping! Are you so starved?" + +"No," said Charmides with full mouth. "I'm in a hurry. I want to see +things." + +His father laughed and leaped to his feet. + +"Just like me, lad. Come on!" + +Charmides snatched a handful of figs and rolled out of the tent +squealing with joy. Menon came after him, laughing, and Glaucon followed +to care for them. "The sun is setting," said Menon. "It will soon be +dark, and to-morrow are the games. They will keep us busy when they +begin, so you must use your eyes to-day if you want to see the fair." + +He stopped on the hillside and looked down into the sacred place. + +"It is wonderful!" he said, half to himself. "The home of glory! I love +every stone of it. I have not been here since I myself won the single +race. And now my son is to win it. That was when you were a baby, +Charmides." + +"I know, father," whispered the boy with shining eyes. "I have kissed +your olive wreath, where it hangs above our altar at home." + +The father put his hand lovingly on the boy's yellow head. + +"By the help of Hermes there soon will be a green one there for you to +kiss, lad. The gods are very good to crown our family twice." + +"I wish there were crowns for lame boys to win," said Charmides. "I +would win one!" + +He said that fiercely and clenched his fist. His father looked kindly +into his eyes and spoke solemnly. + +"I think you would, my son. Perhaps there are such crowns." + +They started on thoughtfully and soon were among the crowd. There were +a hundred interesting sights. They passed an outdoor oven like a little +round hill of stones and clay. The baker was just raking the fire out of +the little door on the side. Charmides waited to see him put the loaves +into the hot cave. But before it was done a horn blew and called him +away to a little table covered with cakes. + +"Honey cakes! Almond cakes! Fig cakes!" sang the man. "Come buy!" + +There they lay--stars and fish and ships and temples. Charmides picked +up one in the shape of a lyre. + +"I will take this one," he said, and solemnly ate it. + +"Why are you so solemn, son?" laughed Menon. + +The boy did not answer. He only looked up at his father with deep eyes +and said nothing. But in a moment he was racing off to see some rope +dancers. + +"Glaucon," said the master to the slave, "take care of the boy. Give him +a good time. Buy him what he wants. Take him back to camp when he is +tired. I have business to do." + +Then he turned to talk with a friend, who had come up, and Glaucon +followed his little master. + +What a good time the boy had! The rope dancers, the sword swallowers, +the Egyptian with his painted scroll, a trained bear that wrestled with +a wild-looking man dressed in skins, a cooking tent where whole sheep +were roasting and turning over a fire, another where tiny fish were +boiling in a great pot of oil and jumping as if alive--he saw them all. +He stood under the sculptors' awning and gazed at the marble people more +beautiful than life. And when he came upon Apollo striking his lyre, his +heart leaped into his mouth. He stood quiet for a long time gazing at +this god of song. Then he walked out of the tent with shining eyes. + +At last it grew dark, and torches began to blaze in front of the booths. + +"Shall we go home, Charmides?" said Glaucon. + +"Oh, no!" cried the boy. "I haven't seen it all. I am not tired. It is +gayer now than ever with the torches. See all those shining flames." + +And he ran to a booth where a hundred little bronze lamps hung, each +with its tongue of clear light. It was an imagemaker's booth. The table +stood full of little clay statues of the gods. Charmides took up one. It +was a young man leaning against a tree trunk. On his arm he held a baby. + +"It is a model of the great marble Hermes in the temple of Hera, my +little master," said the image maker. "Great Praxiteles made that one, +poor Philo made this one." + +"It is beautiful," said Charmides and turned away, holding it tenderly +in his hand. + +Glaucon waited a moment to pay for the figure. Then he followed +Charmides who had walked on. He was standing on the bridge gazing at the +water. + +"Glaucon," he said, "I must see that statue of Hermes." + +They stood there talking about the wonderful works of Praxiteles and of +many another artist. Glaucon pointed to a little wooden shed lying in +the meadow. + +"That," he said, "is the workshop of Phidias. There he made the gold and +ivory statue of Zeus that you shall see in Zeus's temple. That workshop +will stay there many a year, I think, for people to love because so +great a thing was done there." + +"Is it so wonderful?" asked Charmides. + +"When it was finished," Glaucon answered solemnly, "Phidias stood before +it and prayed to Zeus to tell him whether it pleased the god. Great Zeus +heard the prayer, and in his joy at the beautiful thing he hurled a +blazing thunderbolt and smote the floor before the statue as if to say, +'This image is Zeus himself.' But I have never seen it, for a slave may +not pass the sacred wall." + +Now the full moon had risen, and the world was swimming in silver light. +The statue of Victory hung over the sacred place on spread wings. Many +another great form on its high pillar seemed standing in the deep sky +above the world. The little pool in the pebbly river had stars in the +bottom. + +"This Kladeos is a savage little river in the spring," said Glaucon. "It +tries to tear away our Olympia or drown it or cover it with sand. You +see, men have had to fence it in with stone walls." + +But Charmides was looking at the sacred place and its soft shining +statues in the sky. + +"Let us walk around the wall," he said. + +So they left the river and passed the gymnasium and the gate. Along this +side the wall cast a wide shadow. Here they walked in silence. Here +there were no tents, no torches, no noisy people. Everything was quiet +in the evening air. The far-off sounds of the fair were a gentle hum. A +hundred pictures were floating in Charmides' mind--Phidias, Zeus, Creon +with the strigil, his own little Hermes, the strange people in the fair, +the marble Apollo under the sculptor's tent. In a few moments they +turned a corner and came out into the soft moonlight. A little beyond +gleamed a broad river, the Alphaeus. Charmides and the slave went over +and strolled along its banks. Here they were again in the crowd and +among tents. They saw a group of people and went toward them. A man +sat on a low knoll a little above the crowd. His hair hung about his +shoulders and his long robe lay in glistening folds about his feet. A +lyre rested on his knees, and he was striking the strings softly. The +sweet notes floated high in the moonlit air. At last he lifted his voice +and sang: + + When the swan spreadeth out his wings to alight + On the whirling pools of the foaming stream, + He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a note. + When the sweet-voiced minstrel lifteth his lyre + And stretcheth his hand on the singing string, + He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a prayer. + Even so do I now, a worshiping bard, + With my heart lifted up to begin my lay, + Cry aloud to Apollo, the lord of song. + +Then he sang of that lordliest of all minstrels, Orpheus--how the trees +swung circling about to his music; how the savage beasts lay down at his +feet to listen; how the rocks rose up at his bidding and followed him, +dancing, to build a town without hands; how he went to the dismal land +of the dead to seek his wife and with his clear lyre and sweet voice +drew tears from the iron heart of the king of hell and won back his +loved Eurydice and lost her again the same hour. + +The boy, sitting there in the moonlight, went floating away on the song +until he felt himself straying through that fair garden of the dead with +singing lyre or riding with Artemis through the sky in her moon chariot. + +When the song was ended, Glaucon said, "Come, little master, you have +fallen asleep. Let us go home." + +And Charmides rose and went, still clutching his image of Hermes in his +hand and still holding the song fast in his heart. + +In the morning the whole great camp was awake and moving long before +daylight. Every man and boy was in his fairest clothes. On every head +was a fresh fillet. Every hand bore some beautiful gift for the gods--a +vase, a plate of gold, an embroidered robe, a basket of silver. All were +pouring to the open gate in the sacred wall. Here a procession formed. +Young men led cattle with gilded horns and swinging garlands, or sheep +with clean, combed wool. Stately priests in long chitons paced to the +music of flutes. The judges glowed in their purple robes. Then walked +the athletes, their eyes burning with excitement. And last came all the +visitors with gift-laden hands. The slaves and foreigners crowded at +the gate to see the procession pass, for on this first holy day only +freedmen and Greeks of pure blood might visit the sacred shrines. When +Charmides passed through, his heart leaped. Here was no empty field with +a few altars. He had never seen a greater crowd in the busy market place +at home in Athens. But here the people were even more beautiful than +the Athenians. Their limbs were round and perfect. They stood always +gracefully. Their garments hung in delicate folds, for they were people +made by great artists--people of marble and of bronze. All the gods of +Olympos were there, and athletes of years gone by, wrestling, running, +hurling the disc. There were bronze chariots with horses of bronze to +draw them and men of bronze to hold the reins. There were heroes of Troy +still fighting. And here and there were little altars of marble or +stone or earth or ashes with an ancient, holy statue. At every one the +procession halted. The priests poured a libation and chanted a prayer. +The people sang a hymn. Many left gifts piled about the altar. Before +Hermes Charmides left his little clay image of the god. And while +the priests prayed aloud, the boy sent up a whispered prayer for his +brother. + +Once the procession came before a low, narrow temple. It was of +sun-dried bricks coated with plaster. Its columns were all different +from one another. Some were slender, others thick; some fluted, others +plain; and all were brightly painted. Charmides smiled up at his father. + +"It is not so beautiful as the Parthenon," he said. + +"No," his father answered, "but it is very old and very holy. Every +generation of man has put a new column here. That is why they are not +alike. This is the ancient temple of Hera." + +Then they entered the door. Down the long aisle they walked between +small open rooms on either side. Here stood statues gazing out--some of +marble, some of gold and ivory. The priests had moved to the front and +stood praying before the ancient statues of Zeus and Hera. But suddenly +Charmides stopped and would go no farther. For here, in a little room +all alone, stood his Hermes with the baby Dionysus. The boy cried out +softly with joy and crept toward the lovely thing. He gently touched the +golden sandal. He gazed into the kind blue eyes and smiled. The marble +was delicately tinted and glowed like warm skin. A frail wreath of +golden leaves lay on the curling hair. Charmides looked up at the tiny +baby and laughed at its coaxing arms. + +"Are you smiling at him?" he whispered to Hermes. "Or are you dreaming +of Olympos? Are you carrying him to the nymphs on Mount Nysa?" And then +more softly still he said, "Do not forget Creon, blessed god." + +When his father came back he found him still gazing into the quiet face +and smiling tenderly with love of the beautiful thing. As Menon led him +away, he waved a loving farewell to the god. + +The most wonderful time was after the sacrifice to Zeus before the great +temple with its deep porches and its marble watchers in the gable. +The altar was a huge pile of ashes. For hundreds of years Greeks had +sacrificed here. The holy ashes had piled up and piled up until they +stood as a hill more than twenty feet high. The people waited around the +foot of it, watching. The priests walked up its side. Men led up the +sleek cattle to be slain for the feast of the gods. And on the very top +a fire leaped toward heaven. Far up in the sky Charmides could half +see the beautiful gods leaning down and smiling upon their worshiping +people. + +Then he turned and walked with the crowd under the temple porch and into +the great, dim room. He trembled and grasped his father's hand in awe. +For there in the soft light towered great Zeus. In embroidered robes of +dull gold he sat high on his golden throne. His hands held his scepter +and his messenger eagle. His great yellow curls almost touched the +ceiling. He bent his divine face down, and his deep eyes glowed upon his +people. Sweet smoke was curling upward, and the room rang with a hymn. + +As Charmides gazed into the solemn face, a strange light quivered about +it, and the boy's heart shook with awe. The words of Homer sprank to his +lips: + +"Zeus bowed his head. The divine hair streamed back from the kindly +brows, and great Olympos quaked." + +After the sacrifices were over there was time to wander again among the +statues and to sit on the benches under the cool porches and watch the +moving crowd and the glittering sun on the gold ornaments of the temple +peaks. Then there was time to see again the strange sights of the fair +in the plain. The next morning was noisier and gayer than anything +Charmides had ever known. While it was still twilight his father hurried +him down the hill and through the gates, on through the sacred enclosure +to another gate. And all about them was a hurrying, noisy crowd. They +stumbled up some steps and began to wait. As the light grew, Charmides +saw all about him men and boys, sitting or standing, and all gaily +talking. Below the crowd he saw a long, narrow stretch of ground. He +clapped his hands. That was the ground Creon's feet would run upon! Up +and down both sides of the track went long tiers of stone seats. They +were packed with people who were there to see Creon win. The seats +curved around one narrow end of the course. But across the other end +stood a wall with a gate. Menon pointed to a large white board hanging +on the wall and said, "See! The list of athletes." + +Here were written names, and among them, "Creon, son of the Olympic +winner Menon." Charmides' eyes glowed with pride. + +Every eye was watching the gate. Soon the purple-clad judges entered. +Some of them walked the whole length of the stadion and took their seats +opposite the goal posts. Two or three waited at the starting line. There +was a blast of a trumpet. Then a herald cried something about games +for boys and about only Greeks of pure blood and about the blessing of +Hermes of the race course. + +Immediately there entered a crowd of boys, while the spectators sent +up a rousing cheer. The lads gathered to cast lots for places. At last +eight of them stepped out and stood at the starting line. Creon was not +among them. A post with a little fluttering flag was between every two. +The boys threw off their clothes and stood ready. One of the judges said +to them: + +"The eyes of the world are upon you. Your cities love an Olympic winner. +From Olympos the gods look down upon you. For the glory of your cities, +for the joy of your fathers, for your own good name, I exhort you to do +your best." + +Then he gave the signal and the runners shot forward. Down the long +course they went with twinkling legs. The spectators cheered, called +their names, waved their chlamyses and himations. Their friends cried +to the gods to help. Down they ran, two far ahead, others stringing out +behind. Every runner's eyes were on the marble goal post with its little +statue of Victory. In a moment it was over, and Leotichides had first +laid hand upon the post and was winner of the first heat. + +Immediately eight other boys took their places at the starting line. +Charmides snatched his father's hand and held it tight, for Creon was +one of them. Another signal and they were off, with Creon leading by +a pace or two. So it was all the way, and he gave a glad shout as he +touched the goal post. + +Charmides heard men all about him say: + +"A beautiful run!" + +"How easily he steps!" + +"We shall see him do something in the last heat." + +"Who is he?" + +And when the herald announced the name of the winner, the benches buzzed +with, + +"Creon, Creon, son of Menon the Athenian." + +Four more groups were called and ran. Then the six winners stepped up +to the line. This time the goal was the altar at the farther end of the +stadion. A wave of excitement ran around the seats. Everybody leaned +forward. The signal! Leotichides sprang a long pace ahead. Next came +Creon, loping evenly. One boy stumbled and fell behind. The other three +were running almost side by side. Menon was muttering between his teeth: + +"Hermes, be his aid! Great Zeus look upon him! Herakles give him wind!" + +Now they were near the goal, and Leotichides was still leading by a +stride. Then Creon threw back his head and stretched out his legs and +with ten great leaps he had touched the altar a good pace ahead. He had +won the race. + +The crowd went wild with shouting. Menon leaped over men's heads and +went running down the course calling for his son. But the guards caught +him and forced him back upon the seats. Charmides sat down and wept for +joy. And nobody saw him, for everybody was cheering and watching the +victor. + +One of the judges stepped out and gave a torch to Creon. The boy touched +the flame to the pile on the altar. As the fire sprang up, he stretched +his hands to the sky and cried, + +"O blessed Hermes, Creon will not forget thy help." + +As he turned away the judge gave him a palm in sign of victory. The boy +walked back down the course with the palm waving over his shoulder. His +body was glistening, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were burning +with joy. He was looking up at the crowd, hoping to see his father and +brother. And at every step men reached out a hand to him or called +to him, until at last Menon's own loving arms pulled him up upon the +benches. Then there was such a noise that no one heard any one else, but +everybody knew that everybody was happy. Men pushed their heads over +other men's shoulders, and boys peeped between their fathers' legs to +see the Olympic winner. And in that circle of faces Menon stood with +his arms about Creon, laughing and crying. And Charmides clung to his +brother's hand. But at last Creon whispered to his father: + +"I must go and make ready. I am entered for the pentathlon, also." + +Menon cried out in wonder. + +"I kept that news for a surprise," laughed Creon. "Good-by, little one," +he said to Charmides, and pushed through the crowd. + +Menon sat down trembling. If his boy should win in the pentathlon also! +That would be too great glory. It could not happen. He began to mutter a +hundred prayers. Another race was called--the double race, twice around +the course. But Menon did not stand to see it. He could think of nothing +but his glorious son. After the race was another great shout. Some other +boy was carrying a palm. Some other father was proud. Then followed +wrestling, bout after bout, and cheering from the crowd. But Menon cared +little for it all. + +It was now near noon. The sun shone down scorchingly. A wind whirled +dust up from the race course into people's faces. + +"My throat needs wetting," cried a man. + +He pulled off a little vase of wine that hung from his girdle and passed +it to Menon, saying: + +"I should be proud if the father of the victor would drink from my +bottle." + +And Menon took it, smiling proudly. Then he himself opened a little +cloth bag and drew out figs and nuts. + +"Here is something to munch, lad," he said to Charmides. + +Other people, also, were eating and drinking. They walked about to visit +their friends or sat down to rest. Menon's neighbor sank upon his seat +with a sigh. + +"This is the first time I have sat down since sunrise," he laughed. + +Then the pentathlon was announced. Everyone leaped to his feet again. A +group of boys stood ready behind a line. One of the judges was softening +the ground with a pick. An umpire made a speech to the lads. Then, at a +word, a boy took up the lead jumping weights. He swung his hands back +and forth, swaying his graceful body with them. Then a backward jerk! He +threw his weights behind him and leaped. The judges quickly measured +and called the distance. Then another boy leaped, and another, and +another--twenty or more. Last Creon took the weights and toed the line. + +"Creon! Creon!" shouted the crowd: "The victor! Creon again!" + +He swung and swayed and then sailed through the air. + +"By Herakles!" shouted a man near Charmides. "He alights like a +sea-gull." + +There went up a great roar from the benches even before the judges +called the distance. For any one could see that he had passed the +farthest mark. The first of the five games was over and Creon had won +it. + +Now the judges brought a discus. A boy took it and stepped behind the +line. He fitted the lead plate into the crook of his hand. He swung it +back and forth, bending his knees and turning his body. Then it flew +into the air and down the course. Where it stopped rolling an umpire +marked and called the distance. + +"I like this game best of all," said a man behind Charmides. "The whole +body is in it. Every movement is graceful. See the curve of the back, +the beautiful bend of the legs, the muscles working over the chest! The +body moves to and fro as if to music." + +One after another the boys took their turn. But when Creon threw, +Charmides cried out in sorrow, and Menon groaned. His disc fell short of +the mark. He was third. + +"It was gracefully done," Charmides heard some one say, "but his arms +are not so good as his legs. See the arms and chest of that Timon. No +one can throw against him." + +After that a judge set up a shield in the middle of the course. Every +boy snatched a spear from a pile on the ground and threw at the central +boss of the shield. Again Creon was beaten. Phormio of Corinth, son of a +famous warrior, won. + +Then they paired off for wrestling. Creon and Eudorus of Aegina were +together. Each boy poured oil into his hand from a little vase and +rubbed the body of his antagonist to limber his muscles. Then he took +fine sand from a box and dusted it over his skin for the oiled body +might slip out of his arms in the wrestling match. Then, at a signal, +the pairs of wrestlers faced each other. + +Creon held his hands out ready, bent his knees, thrust forward his head, +and stood waiting. Eudorus leaped to and fro around him trying to get a +hold. At last he rushed at him. Creon caught him around the waist and +hurled him to the ground. Charmides laughed and shouted and clapped +his hands. That was one throw. There must be three. Eudorus was up +immediately and was circling around and around again. Suddenly Creon +leaped low and caught him by the leg and threw him. He had won two bouts +out of three and stood victor without a throw. + +Soon all the pairs had finished. The eight victors stood forth and cast +lots for new partners. Again they wrestled. This time, also, Creon won. +Then these four winners paired off and wrestled, and at the end Creon +and Timon were left to try it together. + +In the first bout the Spartan boy lifted Creon off the ground and threw +him, back down. Then the men on the benches began shouting advice. + +"Look out for his arms!" + +"Don't let him grapple you!" + +"Feint, feint!" + +Creon leaped to his feet. He began circling around Timon as Eudorus had +circled around him. He dodged out from under Timon's arms. He wriggled +from between his hands. The benches rang with cheers and laughs. + +"He is an eel," cried one man. + +Suddenly Creon ducked under Timon's arms, caught him by his legs and +tripped him. The two boys were even. + +In the next bout Timon ran at Creon like a wild bull. He caught him +around the waist in his strong arms to whirl him to the ground. But with +a crook of his leg Creon tripped him and wriggled out of his arms before +he fell. + +Menon caught up Charmides and threw him to his shoulder laughing and +stamping his feet. + +"Do you see, lad?" he cried. "He has won two games. Only the race is +left, and we know how he can run." + +And how he did run! He threw back his head and leaped out like a deer, +skimming over the ground in long strides and leaving his dust to the +others. He had the three games out of five and was winner of the +pentathlon. + +Then there was no holding the crowd. They poured down off the seats and +ran to Creon. Some lifted him upon their shoulders and carried him out +of the stadion, for this was the end of the games for that day. And +those who could not come near Creon and his waving palms crowded around +Menon. So they went, shouting, out of the gate and among the statues and +on to the river. There they put Creon down, and his father and Charmides +led him away to camp. + +That was the happiest night of Charmides' life. He heard his wonderful +brother talk for hours of the life in the gymnasium. He heard new tales +of Creon's favorite god, Hermes. He heard of the women's games that were +held once a year at Olympia in honor of Hera. He heard a hundred new +names of boys and cities, for there had been, athletes from every corner +of Greece in training here. He held the victor's palms in his own hands. +He slept beside this double winner of Olympic crowns. He dreamed that +Apollo and Hermes came hand in hand and gazed down at him and Creon as +they lay sleeping and dropped a great garland over them both. It was +twined of Olympic olive leaves and Apollo's own laurel. + +On the next day there were games for the men, like those the boys had +played. On the day after that there were chariot races in a wide place +outside the walls. Every night there was still the gay noise of the +fair. But instead of going to see it, Charmides stretched himself under +the trees on Mount Kronion and gazed up at the moon and dreamed. + +Then came the last day, with its great procession again and its +sacrifices at every altar. The proud victors walked with their palm +leaves in their hands. In the temple of Zeus, under the eyes of the +glowing god, the priests put the precious olive crowns upon the winners' +heads. They were made from sacred olive leaves. They were cut with a +golden sickle from the very tree that godlike Herakles had brought out +of the far north. That wreath it was which should be more dear than a +chest of gold to Creon's family and Creon's city. That was the crown +which poets should sing about. When the priest set the crown upon +Creon's head, Charmides thought he felt a god's hands upon his own brow. +Menon leaned upon a friend's shoulder and burst into tears. + +"I could die happy now," he said. "I have done enough for Athens in +giving her such a glorious son." + +As the three walked back to camp, Menon said: + +"Who shall write your chorus of triumph, Creon? Already my messengers +have reached Athens, and the dancers are chosen who shall lead you home. +But the song is not yet made. It must be a glorious one!" + +Then Charmides blushingly whispered, + +"May I sing you something, father? Apollo helped me to make it." + +His father smiled down in surprise. "So that is why you have been lying +so quiet under the trees these moonlit nights!" he said. + +Charmides ran ahead and was sitting thrumming a lyre when his father +and Creon came up. He struck a long, ringing chord and raised his clear +voice in a dancing song: + + When Creon, son of Menon, bore off the Olympic olive, + Mount Kronion shook with shouting of Hellas' hosts assembled. + They praised his manly beauty, his grace and strength of body. + They praised his eyes' alertness, the smoothness of his muscles. + They blessed his happy father and wished themselves his brothers. + Sweet rang the glorious praises in ears of Creon's lovers. + But I, when upward gazing, beheld a sight more wondrous. + The gates of high Olympos were open wide and clanging, + Deserted ev'ry palace, the golden city empty. + And all the gods were gathered above Olympia's race-course, + They smiled upon my Creon and gifts upon him showered. + From golden Aphrodite dropped half a hundred graces. + Athene made him skillful. Boon Hermes gave him litheness. + Fierce Ares added courage, Queen Hera happy marriage. + Diana's blessed fingers into his soul shed quiet. + Lord Bacchus gave him friendship and graces of the banquet, + Poseidon luck in travel, and Zeus decreed him victor. + Apollo, smiling, watched him and saw his thousand blessings. + "Enough," he said, "for Creon. I'll bless the empty-handed." + He turned to where I trembled, and stepping downward crowned me. + "To thee my gift," he whispered, "to sing thy brother's glory." + +"Well done, little poet!" cried Menon. + +"A happy man am I. One son is beloved by Hermes, the other by Apollo. +Bring wax tablets, Glaucon, and write down the song. I will prepare a +messenger to hurry with it to Athens." + +So it happened that a lame boy won a crown. And when Creon stepped +ashore at Pirseus, and all Athens stood shouting his name, a chorus of +boys came dancing toward him singing his brother's song. Creon was led +home wearing Zeus' wreath upon his head, and Charmides with Apollo's +crown in his heart. [Illustration: _A Coin of Alexander the Great_. It +shows Zeus sitting on his throne.] + + + + +HOW A CITY WAS LOST + +Such was Olympia long ago. Every four years such games took place. Then +the plain was crowded and busy and gay. Year after year new statues were +set up, new gifts were brought, new buildings were made. Olympia was +one of the richest places in the world. Its fame flew to every land. At +every festival new people came to see its beauties. It was the meeting +place of the world. + +But meantime the bad fortune of Greece began. Her cities quarreled and +fought among themselves. A king came down from the north and conquered +her. After that the Romans sailed over from Italy and conquered her +again. Often Roman emperors carried off some of her statues to make Rome +beautiful. Shipload after shipload they took. The new country was filled +with Greek statues. The old one was left almost empty. Later, after +Christ was born, and the Romans and the Greeks had become Christian, the +emperor said, + +"It is not fitting for Christians to hold a festival in honor of a +heathen god." And he stopped the games. He took away the gold and silver +gifts from the treasure houses. He carried away the gold and ivory +statues. Where Phidias' wonderful Zeus went nobody knows. Perhaps the +gold was melted to make money. Olympia sat lonely and deserted by her +river banks. Summer winds whirled dust under her porches. Rabbits made +burrows in Zeus' altar. Doors rusted off their hinges. Foxes made their +dens in Hera's temple. Men came now and then to melt up a bronze statue +for swords or to haul away the stones of her temples for building. +The Alpheios kept eating away its banks and cutting under statues and +monuments. Many a beautiful thing crumbled and fell into the river and +was rolled on down to the sea. Men sometimes found a bronze helmet or a +marble head in the bed of the stream. + +After a long time people came and lived among the ruins. On an old +temple floor they built a little church. Men lived in the temple of +Zeus, and women spun and gossiped where the golden statue had sat. In +the temple of Hera people set up a wine press. Did they know that the +little marble baby in the statue near them was the god of the vineyard +and had taught men to make wine? Out of broken statues and columns and +temple stones they built a wall around the little town to keep out their +enemies. Sometimes when they found a bronze warrior or a marble god they +must have made strange stories about it, for they had half forgotten +those wonderful old Greeks. But the marble statues they put into a kiln +to make lime to plaster their houses. The bronze ones they melted up for +tools. Sometimes they found a piece of gold. They thought themselves +lucky then and melted it over into money. + +But an earthquake shook down the buildings and toppled over the statues. +The columns and walls of the grand old temple of Zeus fell in a heap. +The marble statues in its pediments dropped to the ground and broke. +Victory fell from her high pillar and shattered into a hundred pieces. +The roof of Hera's temple fell in, and Hermes stood uncovered to the +sky. Old Kronion rocked and sent a landslide down over the treasure +houses. Kladeos rushed out of his course and poured sand over the sacred +place. + +That earthquake frightened the people away, and they left Olympia alone +again. Hermes was still there, but he looked out upon ruins. Victory lay +in a heap of fragments. Apollo was there, but broken and buried in earth +with the other people of the pediments. Zeus and all the hundreds of +heroes and athletes were gone. So it was for a while. Then a new race of +people came and built another little town upon the earth-covered ruins. +They little guessed what lay below their poor houses. But for some +reason this town, also, died and left the ruins alone. Then dusty winds +and flooding rivers began to cover up what was left. Kladeos piled up +sand fifteen feet deep. Alpheios swung out of its banks and washed away +the race-course for chariots. Under the rains and floods the sun-dried +bricks of Hera's walls melted again into clay and covered the floor. +Again the earth quaked, and Hermes fell forward on his face, and little +was left of the beautiful old Olympia. Grass and flowers crept in from +the sides. Seeds blew in and shrubs and trees took the place of columns. +Soon the flowers and the animals had Olympia to themselves. A few gray +stones thrust up through the soil. So it was for hundreds of years. +Greece was conquered by the men of Venice and then by the Turks. But +Olympia, in its far corner, was forgotten and untouched except when a +Turkish officer or farmer went there to dig a few stones out of the +ground. And they knew nothing of the ancient gods and the ancient +festival and the old story of the place, for they were foreigners and +new people. + +But about a hundred years ago Englishmen and Germans and Frenchmen began +to visit Greece. They went to see, not her new Turkish houses or her +Venetian castles or the strange dress of her new people, but her old +ruins and the signs of her old glory. These men had read of Olympia in +ancient Greek books and they knew what statues and buildings had once +stood there. They wrote back to their friends things like this: + +"I saw a piece of a huge column lying on top of the ground. It was seven +feet across. It must have belonged to the temple of Zeus." + +"To-day I saw a long, low place in the ground where I think must have +been the stadion in ancient days." + +At last, about thirty years ago, Ernst Curtius and several other Germans +went there. They were men who had studied Greek history and Greek art +and they planned to excavate Olympia. + +"We will uncover the sacred enclosure again. Men shall see again the +ancient temples and altars, the stadion, the statues." + +Germany had given them money for the work, and at last Greece allowed +them to begin. In October they started their digging. Workmen up-rooted +shrubs and dug away dirt. Excavators watched every spadeful. They were +always measuring, making maps, taking notes. They found a few vases, +terra cotta figures, pieces of bronze statues, swords and armor. They +cleared off temple floors and were able to make out the plans of the old +buildings. They found the empty pedestals of many statues. Yet they were +disappointed. Olympia had been a beautiful place, a rich place. They +were finding only the hints of these things. The beauty was gone. Of the +three thousand statues that had been there should they not find one? + +Then they uncovered the fallen statues of the pediments of Zeus' temple. +Thirty or more there were--Apollo, Zeus, heroes, women, centaurs, +horses. Arms were gone, heads were broken, legs were lost. The +excavators fitted together all the pieces and set the mended statues up +side by side as they had been in the gable. They found, too, the carved +marble slabs that showed the labors of Herakles. But even these were not +the lovely things that people had hoped to see from Olympia. They were +rather stiff and ungraceful. They had not been made by the greatest +artists. In the temple of Hera one day men were digging in clay. Over +all the rest of Olympia was only sand. The excavators wondered for a +long time why this one spot should have clay. Where could it have come +from? They read their old books over and over. They thought and studied. +At last they said: + +"The walls of the temple must have been made of sun-dried brick. In the +old days they must have been covered with plaster. This and the roof +kept them dry. But the plaster cracked off, and the roof fell in, and +the rain and the floods turned the bricks back to clay again." + +Then one May morning, when the men were digging in the clay, a workman +lifted off his spadeful of dirt, and white marble gleamed out. After +that there was careful work, with all the excavators standing about to +watch. What would it be? They thought over all the statues that the +ancient books said had stood in Hera's temple. Then were slowly +uncovered, a smooth back, a carved shoulder, a curly head. A white +statue of a young man lay face down in the gray clay. The legs were +gone. The right arm was missing. From his left hung carved drapery. On +his left shoulder lay a tiny marble hand. + +"It is the Hermes of Praxiteles," the excavators whispered among +themselves. + +In his day Praxiteles had been almost as famous as Phidias. The old +Greek world had rung with his praises. Modern men had dreamed of what +his statues must have been and had longed to see them. How did he shape +the head? How did his bodies curve? What expression was on his faces? +All these things they had wished to know. But not one of his statues +had ever been found. Now here lay one before the very eyes of these +excavators. They put out their hands and lovingly touched the polished +marble skin. But what would they find when they lifted it?--Perhaps the +nose would be gone, the face flattened by the fall, the ears broken, the +beautiful marble chipped. They almost feared to lift it. But at last +they did so. + +When they saw the face, they were struck dumb by its beauty, and I think +tears sprang into the eyes of some of them. No such perfect piece of +marble had ever been found before. There was not a scratch. The skin +still glowed with the polishing that Praxiteles' own hands had given it. +There was even a hint of color on the lips. The soft clay bed had saved +the falling statue. Here was a statue that the whole world would love. +It would make the name of Olympia famous again. The excavators were +proud and happy. That old ruined temple seemed indeed a sacred place to +them as they gazed upon perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. + +"Surely we shall find nothing else so perfect," they said. + +Yet they went on with the work. Before long Hermes' right foot was found +imbedded in the clay. Its sandal still shone with the gilding put on two +thousand years before. Workmen were tearing down one of the houses of +the little town that had been built on the ancient ruins. Every stone in +it had some old story. Pieces of fluted columns, carved capitals, broken +pedestals, blocks from the temple of Zeus--all were cemented together to +make these walls. The workmen pulled and chipped and lifted out piece +after piece. The excavators studied each scrap to see whether it was +valuable. And at last they found a baby's body. They carefully broke off +the mortar. It was of creamy marble, beautifully carved. They carried it +to Hermes. It fitted upon the drapery over his arm. On a rubbish heap +outside the temple they had found a little marble head. They put it upon +this baby's shoulders. It was badly broken, but they could see that it +belonged there. So after two thousand years Hermes again smiled into the +eyes of the baby Dionysus. + +Other things were found. The shattered Victory was uncovered. Carefully +the excavators fitted the pieces together. But the wide wings could +never be made again, and the head was ruined. Even so, the statue is a +beautiful thing, with its thin drapery flying in the wind. + +After five years the work was finished. Now again hundreds of visitors +journey to Olympia every year. They see no gleaming roofs and +high-lifted statues and joyful games. They walk among sad ruins. But +they can tread the gymnasium floor where Creon and many another victor +wrestled. They can enter the gate of the grass-grown stadion. They can +see the fallen columns of the temple of Zeus. In the museum they can see +the statues of its pediments and, at the end of the long hall, they +see Victory stepping toward them. They can wander on the banks of the +Kladeos and the Alpheios. They can climb Mount Kronion and see the whole +little plain and imagine it gay with tents and moving people. + +All these things are interesting to those who like the old Greek life. +But most people make the long journey only to see Hermes. In the museum, +in a little room all alone, he stands, always calm and lovable, always +dreaming of something beautiful, always half smiling at the coaxing +baby. + + + + +PICTURES OF OLYMPIA + + +ENTRANCE TO STADION. + +This was not the gate where Charmides entered. This entrance was +reserved for the judges, the competitors, and the heralds. Inside there +were seats for forty-five thousand people. On one side the hill made a +natural slope for seats. But on the other sides a ridge of earth had to +be built up. The track was about two hundred yards long. Only the two +ends have been excavated. The rest still lies deep under the sand. + + +GYMNASIUM. + +Here Creon and the other boys spent a month in training before the +games. The gymnasium had a covered portico as long as the track in the +stadion, where the boys could run in bad weather. A Greek boy of to-day +is playing on his shepherd's pipes in the foreground, and they are the +same kind of pipes on which the old Greeks played. + + +BOYS IN GYMNASIUM. + +From a vase painting. They are wrestling, jumping with weights, throwing +the spear, throwing the discus, while their teachers watch them. One man +is saying, "A beautiful boy, truly." + + +THE TEMPLE OF ZEUS. + +When we see a picture of fallen broken columns lying about a field +in disorder, we try to learn how the original building looked and to +imagine it in all its beauty. This, men believe, is the way the Temple +of Zeus looked. The figures in the pediment were all of Parian marble. +In the center stands Zeus himself. A chariot race is about to be run, +and the contestants stand on either side of Zeus. Zeus gave the victory +to Pelops, and Pelops became husband of Hippodameia, and king of Pisa, +and founded the Olympic Games. These games were held every fourth year +for more than a thousand years. + + Note: This and the following plates of the Labors of Herakles and the + statue of Victory, were photographed from Curtius and Adler's + "Olympia: Die Ergebnisse der von dem Deutschen Reich Veranstalteten + Ausgrabung," etc. This is one of the most beautiful books ever made + for a buried city. + +Boys and girls who can reach the Metropolitan Museum Library should not +miss it. It is in many volumes, each almost as large as the top of the +table, and you do not need to read German to appreciate the plates. + + +THE LABORS OF HERAKLES. + +Under the porches of the Temple of Zeus were twelve pictures in marble, +six at each end, showing the Labors of Herakles. Herakles was highly +honored at Olympia and, according to one tale, he, instead of Pelops, +was the founder of the Olympic Games. + +[Illustration: Herakles and the Nemean lion.--_Metropolitan Museum_] + +[Illustration: Herakles and the hydra.--_Metropolitan Museum_] + + +THE STATUE OF VICTORY. + +In the sand, not far from the Temple of Zeus, the explorers found the +fragments of this statue. It shows the goddess flying down from heaven +to bring victory to the men of Messene and Naupaktos. So the victors +must have erected this statue at Olympia in gratitude. + +Something like the picture used as the frontispiece, men believe the +statue looked originally. It stood upon a base thirty feet high so that +the goddess really looked as if she were descending from heaven. + + +THE TEMPLE OF HERA. + +This shows the ruins of the temple where Charmides saw the statue of +Hermes, perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. + + +HEAD OF AN ATHLETE. + +The Greek artist who made this statue believed that a beautiful body is +glorious, as well as a beautiful mind, and a fine spirit. Do you +think his statue shows all these things? The original is now at the +Metropolitan Museum. + + +A GREEK HORSEMAN. + +The artist had great skill who could chisel out of marble such a strong, +bold rider, and such a spirited horse. + + This picture and the one before it are not pictures of things found at + Olympia. They are two of the most beautiful statues of Greek athletes, and we + give them to remind you of the sort of people who came to the games at + Olympia. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Buried Cities, Volume 2, by Jennie Hall + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 *** + +This file should be named 7bct210.txt or 7bct210.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 7bct211.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 7bct210a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Buried Cities, Volume 2 + Olympia + +Author: Jennie Hall + +Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9626] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + +BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 + +OLYMPIA + +BY + +JENNIE HALL + +Author of "Four Old Greeks," Etc. Instructor in History and English in +the Francis W. Parker School, Chicago + +With Many Drawings and Photographs From Original Sources + + + +The publishers are grateful to the estate of Miss Jennie Hall and to her +many friends for assistance in planning the publication of this book. +Especial thanks are due to Miss Nell C. Curtis of the Lincoln School, +New York City, for helping to finish Miss Hall's work of choosing the +pictures, and to Miss Irene I. Cleaves of the Francis Parker School, +Chicago, who wrote the captions. It was Miss Katharine Taylor, now of +the Shady Hill School, Cambridge, who brought these stories to our +attention. + + + + +FOREWORD: TO BOYS AND GIRLS + +Do you like to dig for hidden treasure? Have you ever found Indian +arrowheads or Indian pottery? I knew a boy who was digging a cave in +a sandy place, and he found an Indian grave. With his own hands he +uncovered the bones and skull of some brave warrior. That brown skull +was more precious to him than a mint of money. Another boy I knew was +making a cave of his own. Suddenly he dug into an older one made years +before. He crawled into it with a leaping heart and began to explore. He +found an old carpet and a bit of burned candle. They proved that some +one had lived there. What kind of a man had he been and what kind +of life had he lived--black or white or red, robber or beggar or +adventurer? Some of us were walking in the woods one day when we saw a +bone sticking out of the ground. Luckily we had a spade, and we set to +work digging. Not one moment was the tool idle. First one bone and then +another came to light and among them a perfect horse's skull. We felt as +though we had rescued Captain Kidd's treasure, and we went home draped +in bones. + +Suppose that instead of finding the bones of a horse we had uncovered a +gold-wrapped king. Suppose that instead of a deserted cave that boy +had dug into a whole buried city with theaters and mills and shops and +beautiful houses. Suppose that instead of picking up an Indian arrowhead +you could find old golden vases and crowns and bronze swords lying in +the earth. If you could be a digger and a finder and could choose your +find, would you choose a marble statue or a buried bakeshop with bread +two thousand years old still in the oven or a king's grave filled with +golden gifts? It is of such digging and such finding that this book +tells. + + + +CONTENTS: + + 1. Two Winners of Crowns + + 2. How a City Was Lost + + _Pictures of Olympia_: + + Entrance to Stadion + + Gymnasium + + Boys in Gymnasium + + Temple of Zeus + + The Labors of Herakles + + The Statue of Victory + + The Hermes of Praxiteles + + The Temple of Hera + + Head of an Athlete + + A Greek Horseman + + + + +OLYMPIA + +TWO WINNERS OF CROWNS + +The July sun was blazing over the country of Greece. Dust from the dry +plain hung in the air. But what cared the happy travelers for dust or +heat? They were on their way to Olympia to see the games. Every road +teemed with a chattering crowd of men and boys afoot and on horses. They +wound down from the high mountains to the north. They came along the +valley from the east and out from among the hills to the south. Up from +the sea led the sacred road, the busiest of all. A little caravan of men +and horses was trying to hurry ahead through the throng. The master +rode in front looking anxiously before him as though he did not see the +crowd. After him rode a lad. His eyes were flashing eagerly here and +there over the strange throng. A man walked beside the horse and watched +the boy smilingly. Behind them came a string of pack horses with slaves +to guard the loads of wine and food and tents and blankets for their +master's camp. + +"What a strange-looking man, Glaucon!" said the boy. "He has a dark +skin." + +The boy's own skin was fair, and under his hat his hair was golden. As +he spoke he pointed to a man on the road who was also riding at the head +of a little caravan. His skin was dark. Shining black hair covered his +ears. His garment was gay with colored stripes. + +"He is a merchant from Egypt," answered the man. "He will have curious +things to sell--vases of glass, beads of amber, carved ivory, and +scrolls gay with painted figures. You must see them, Charmides." + +But already the boy had forgotten the Egyptian. + +"See the chariot!" he cried. + +It was slowly rolling along the stony road. A grave, handsome man stood +in it holding the reins. Beside him stood another man with a staff in +his hand. Behind the chariot walked two bowmen. After them followed a +long line of pack horses led by slaves. "They are the delegates from +Athens," explained Glaucon. "There are, doubtless, rich gifts for Zeus +on the horses and perhaps some stone tablets engraved with new laws." + +But the boy was not listening. + +"Jugglers! Jugglers!" he cried. + +And there they were at the side of the road, showing their tricks and +begging for coins. One man was walking on his hands and tossing a ball +about with his feet. Another was swallowing a sword. + +"Stop, Glaucon!" cried Charmides, "I must see him. He will kill +himself." + +"No, my little master," replied the slave. "You shall see him again at +Olympia. See your father. He would be vexed if we waited." + +And there was the master ahead, pushing forward rapidly, looking neither +to the right hand nor the left. The boy sighed. + +"He is hurrying to see Creon. He forgets me!" he thought. + +But immediately his eyes were caught by some new thing, and his face +was gay again. So the little company traveled up the sloping road amid +interesting sights. For here were people from all the corners of the +known world--Greeks from Asia in trailing robes, Arabs in white turbans, +black men from Egypt, kings from Sicily, Persians with their curled +beards, half civilized men from the north in garments of skin. "See!" +said Glaucon at last as they reached a hilltop, "the temple!" + +He pointed ahead. There shone the tip of the roof and its gold ornament. +Hovering above was a marble statue with spread wings. + +"And there is Victory!" whispered Charmides. "She is waiting for Creon. +She will never wait for me," and he sighed. + +The crowd broke into a shout when they saw the temple. A company of +young men flew by, singing a song. Charmides passed a sick man. The +slaves had set down his litter, and he had stretched out his hands +toward the temple and was praying. For the sick were sometimes cured +by a visit to Olympia. The boy's father had struck his heels into his +horse's sides and was galloping forward, calling to his followers to +hasten. + +In a few moments they reached higher land. Then they saw the sacred +place spread out before them. There was the wall all around it. Inside +it shone a few buildings and a thousand statues. Along one side +stretched a row of little marble treasure houses. At the far corner lay +the stadion with its rows of stone seats. Nearer and outside the wall +was the gymnasium. Even from a distance Charmides could see men running +about in the court. + +"There are the athletes!" he thought. "Creon is with them." + +Behind all these buildings rose a great hill, dark green with trees. +Down from the hill poured a little stream. It met a wide river that +wound far through the valley. In the angle of these rivers lay Olympia. +The temple and walls and gymnasium were all of stone and looked as +though they had been there forever. But in the meadow all around the +sacred place was a city of winged tents. There were little shapeless +ones of skins lying over sticks. There were round huts woven of rushes. +There were sheds of poles with green boughs laid upon them. There were +tall tents of gaily striped canvas. Farther off were horses tethered. +And everywhere were gaily robed men moving about. Menon, Charmides' +father, looking ahead from the high place, turned to a slave. + +"Run on quickly," he said. "Save a camping place for us there on Mount +Kronion, under the trees." + +The man was off. Menon spoke to the other servants. "Push forward and +make camp. I will visit the gymnasium. Come, Charmides, we will go to +see Creon." + +They rode down the slope toward Olympia. As they passed among the tents +they saw friends and exchanged kind greetings. + +"Ah, Menon!" called one. "There is good news of Creon. Every one expects +great things of him." + +"I have kept room for your camp next my tent, Menon," said another. + +"Here are sights for you, Charmides," said a kind old man. + +Charmides caught a glimpse of gleaming marble among the crowd and +guessed that some sculptor was showing his statues for sale. Yonder was +a barber's tent. Gentlemen were sitting in chairs and men were cutting +their hair or rubbing their faces smooth with stone. In one place a +man was standing on a little platform. A crowd was gathered about him +listening, while he read from a scroll in his hands. + +But the boy had only a glimpse of these things, for his father was +hurrying on. In a moment they crossed a bridge over a river and stopped +before a low, wide building. Glaucon helped Charmides off his horse. +Menon spoke a few words to the porter at the gate. The man opened the +door and led the visitors in. Charmides limped along beside his father, +for he was lame. That was what had made him sigh when he had seen +Victory hovering over Olympia. She would never give him the olive +branch. But now he did not think of that. His heart was beating fast. +His eyes were big. For before him lay a great open court baking in the +sun. More than a hundred boys were at work there, leaping, wrestling, +hurling the disk, throwing spears. During the past months they had been +living here, training for the games. The sun had browned their bare +bodies. Now their smooth skins were shining with sweat and oil. As they +bent and twisted they looked like beautiful statues turned brown and +come alive. Among them walked men in long purple robes. They seemed to +be giving commands. + +"They are the judges," whispered Glaucon. "They train the boys." + +All around the hot court ran a deep, shady portico. Here boys lay on +the tiled floor or on stone benches, resting from their exercise. Near +Charmides stood one with his back turned. He was scraping the oil and +dust from his body with a strigil. Charmides' eyes danced with joy +at the beauty of the firm, round legs and the muscles moving in the +shoulders. Then the athlete turned toward the visitors and Charmides +cried out, "Creon!" and ran and threw his arms around him. + +Then there was gay talk; Creon asked about the home and mother and +sisters in Athens, for he had been here in training for almost ten +months. Menon and Charmides had a thousand questions about the games. + +"I know I shall win, father," said Creon softly. "Four nights ago Hermes +appeared to me in my sleep and smiled upon me. I awoke suddenly and +there was a strange, sweet perfume in the air." + +Tears sprang into his father's eyes. "Now blessed be the gods!" he +cried, "and most blessed Hermes, the god of the gymnasium!" + +After a little Menon and Charmides said farewell and went away through +the chattering crowd and up under the cool trees on Mount Kronion to +their camp. The slaves had cut poles and set them up and thrown a wide +linen cover over them. Under it they had put a little table holding +lumps of brown cheese, a flat loaf of bread, a basket of figs, a pile +of crisp lettuce. Just outside the tent grazed a few goats. A man in a +soiled tunic was squatted milking one. Menon's slave stood waiting and, +as his master came up, he took the big red bowl of foaming milk and +carried it to the table. The goatherd picked up his long crook and +started his flock on, calling, "Milk! Milk to sell!" + +Menon was gay now. His worries were over. His camp was pitched in a +pleasant place. His son was well and sure of victory. + +"Come, little son," he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as a +wolf. But first our thanks to the gods." + +A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offering +it to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into the +blue heavens. + +"O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen! And to Zeus, the +father, and to all the immortals be thanks." + +As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground. +That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his master +to lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same for +Charmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey, +the games to-morrow, Creon's training. But Charmides was silent. At last +his father said: + +"Well, little wolf, you surely are gulping! Are you so starved?" + +"No," said Charmides with full mouth. "I'm in a hurry. I want to see +things." + +His father laughed and leaped to his feet. + +"Just like me, lad. Come on!" + +Charmides snatched a handful of figs and rolled out of the tent +squealing with joy. Menon came after him, laughing, and Glaucon followed +to care for them. "The sun is setting," said Menon. "It will soon be +dark, and to-morrow are the games. They will keep us busy when they +begin, so you must use your eyes to-day if you want to see the fair." + +He stopped on the hillside and looked down into the sacred place. + +"It is wonderful!" he said, half to himself. "The home of glory! I love +every stone of it. I have not been here since I myself won the single +race. And now my son is to win it. That was when you were a baby, +Charmides." + +"I know, father," whispered the boy with shining eyes. "I have kissed +your olive wreath, where it hangs above our altar at home." + +The father put his hand lovingly on the boy's yellow head. + +"By the help of Hermes there soon will be a green one there for you to +kiss, lad. The gods are very good to crown our family twice." + +"I wish there were crowns for lame boys to win," said Charmides. "I +would win one!" + +He said that fiercely and clenched his fist. His father looked kindly +into his eyes and spoke solemnly. + +"I think you would, my son. Perhaps there are such crowns." + +They started on thoughtfully and soon were among the crowd. There were +a hundred interesting sights. They passed an outdoor oven like a little +round hill of stones and clay. The baker was just raking the fire out of +the little door on the side. Charmides waited to see him put the loaves +into the hot cave. But before it was done a horn blew and called him +away to a little table covered with cakes. + +"Honey cakes! Almond cakes! Fig cakes!" sang the man. "Come buy!" + +There they lay--stars and fish and ships and temples. Charmides picked +up one in the shape of a lyre. + +"I will take this one," he said, and solemnly ate it. + +"Why are you so solemn, son?" laughed Menon. + +The boy did not answer. He only looked up at his father with deep eyes +and said nothing. But in a moment he was racing off to see some rope +dancers. + +"Glaucon," said the master to the slave, "take care of the boy. Give him +a good time. Buy him what he wants. Take him back to camp when he is +tired. I have business to do." + +Then he turned to talk with a friend, who had come up, and Glaucon +followed his little master. + +What a good time the boy had! The rope dancers, the sword swallowers, +the Egyptian with his painted scroll, a trained bear that wrestled with +a wild-looking man dressed in skins, a cooking tent where whole sheep +were roasting and turning over a fire, another where tiny fish were +boiling in a great pot of oil and jumping as if alive--he saw them all. +He stood under the sculptors' awning and gazed at the marble people more +beautiful than life. And when he came upon Apollo striking his lyre, his +heart leaped into his mouth. He stood quiet for a long time gazing at +this god of song. Then he walked out of the tent with shining eyes. + +At last it grew dark, and torches began to blaze in front of the booths. + +"Shall we go home, Charmides?" said Glaucon. + +"Oh, no!" cried the boy. "I haven't seen it all. I am not tired. It is +gayer now than ever with the torches. See all those shining flames." + +And he ran to a booth where a hundred little bronze lamps hung, each +with its tongue of clear light. It was an imagemaker's booth. The table +stood full of little clay statues of the gods. Charmides took up one. It +was a young man leaning against a tree trunk. On his arm he held a baby. + +"It is a model of the great marble Hermes in the temple of Hera, my +little master," said the image maker. "Great Praxiteles made that one, +poor Philo made this one." + +"It is beautiful," said Charmides and turned away, holding it tenderly +in his hand. + +Glaucon waited a moment to pay for the figure. Then he followed +Charmides who had walked on. He was standing on the bridge gazing at the +water. + +"Glaucon," he said, "I must see that statue of Hermes." + +They stood there talking about the wonderful works of Praxiteles and of +many another artist. Glaucon pointed to a little wooden shed lying in +the meadow. + +"That," he said, "is the workshop of Phidias. There he made the gold and +ivory statue of Zeus that you shall see in Zeus's temple. That workshop +will stay there many a year, I think, for people to love because so +great a thing was done there." + +"Is it so wonderful?" asked Charmides. + +"When it was finished," Glaucon answered solemnly, "Phidias stood before +it and prayed to Zeus to tell him whether it pleased the god. Great Zeus +heard the prayer, and in his joy at the beautiful thing he hurled a +blazing thunderbolt and smote the floor before the statue as if to say, +'This image is Zeus himself.' But I have never seen it, for a slave may +not pass the sacred wall." + +Now the full moon had risen, and the world was swimming in silver light. +The statue of Victory hung over the sacred place on spread wings. Many +another great form on its high pillar seemed standing in the deep sky +above the world. The little pool in the pebbly river had stars in the +bottom. + +"This Kladeos is a savage little river in the spring," said Glaucon. "It +tries to tear away our Olympia or drown it or cover it with sand. You +see, men have had to fence it in with stone walls." + +But Charmides was looking at the sacred place and its soft shining +statues in the sky. + +"Let us walk around the wall," he said. + +So they left the river and passed the gymnasium and the gate. Along this +side the wall cast a wide shadow. Here they walked in silence. Here +there were no tents, no torches, no noisy people. Everything was quiet +in the evening air. The far-off sounds of the fair were a gentle hum. A +hundred pictures were floating in Charmides' mind--Phidias, Zeus, Creon +with the strigil, his own little Hermes, the strange people in the fair, +the marble Apollo under the sculptor's tent. In a few moments they +turned a corner and came out into the soft moonlight. A little beyond +gleamed a broad river, the Alphaeus. Charmides and the slave went over +and strolled along its banks. Here they were again in the crowd and +among tents. They saw a group of people and went toward them. A man +sat on a low knoll a little above the crowd. His hair hung about his +shoulders and his long robe lay in glistening folds about his feet. A +lyre rested on his knees, and he was striking the strings softly. The +sweet notes floated high in the moonlit air. At last he lifted his voice +and sang: + + When the swan spreadeth out his wings to alight + On the whirling pools of the foaming stream, + He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a note. + When the sweet-voiced minstrel lifteth his lyre + And stretcheth his hand on the singing string, + He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a prayer. + Even so do I now, a worshiping bard, + With my heart lifted up to begin my lay, + Cry aloud to Apollo, the lord of song. + +Then he sang of that lordliest of all minstrels, Orpheus--how the trees +swung circling about to his music; how the savage beasts lay down at his +feet to listen; how the rocks rose up at his bidding and followed him, +dancing, to build a town without hands; how he went to the dismal land +of the dead to seek his wife and with his clear lyre and sweet voice +drew tears from the iron heart of the king of hell and won back his +loved Eurydice and lost her again the same hour. + +The boy, sitting there in the moonlight, went floating away on the song +until he felt himself straying through that fair garden of the dead with +singing lyre or riding with Artemis through the sky in her moon chariot. + +When the song was ended, Glaucon said, "Come, little master, you have +fallen asleep. Let us go home." + +And Charmides rose and went, still clutching his image of Hermes in his +hand and still holding the song fast in his heart. + +In the morning the whole great camp was awake and moving long before +daylight. Every man and boy was in his fairest clothes. On every head +was a fresh fillet. Every hand bore some beautiful gift for the gods--a +vase, a plate of gold, an embroidered robe, a basket of silver. All were +pouring to the open gate in the sacred wall. Here a procession formed. +Young men led cattle with gilded horns and swinging garlands, or sheep +with clean, combed wool. Stately priests in long chitons paced to the +music of flutes. The judges glowed in their purple robes. Then walked +the athletes, their eyes burning with excitement. And last came all the +visitors with gift-laden hands. The slaves and foreigners crowded at +the gate to see the procession pass, for on this first holy day only +freedmen and Greeks of pure blood might visit the sacred shrines. When +Charmides passed through, his heart leaped. Here was no empty field with +a few altars. He had never seen a greater crowd in the busy market place +at home in Athens. But here the people were even more beautiful than +the Athenians. Their limbs were round and perfect. They stood always +gracefully. Their garments hung in delicate folds, for they were people +made by great artists--people of marble and of bronze. All the gods of +Olympos were there, and athletes of years gone by, wrestling, running, +hurling the disc. There were bronze chariots with horses of bronze to +draw them and men of bronze to hold the reins. There were heroes of Troy +still fighting. And here and there were little altars of marble or +stone or earth or ashes with an ancient, holy statue. At every one the +procession halted. The priests poured a libation and chanted a prayer. +The people sang a hymn. Many left gifts piled about the altar. Before +Hermes Charmides left his little clay image of the god. And while +the priests prayed aloud, the boy sent up a whispered prayer for his +brother. + +Once the procession came before a low, narrow temple. It was of +sun-dried bricks coated with plaster. Its columns were all different +from one another. Some were slender, others thick; some fluted, others +plain; and all were brightly painted. Charmides smiled up at his father. + +"It is not so beautiful as the Parthenon," he said. + +"No," his father answered, "but it is very old and very holy. Every +generation of man has put a new column here. That is why they are not +alike. This is the ancient temple of Hera." + +Then they entered the door. Down the long aisle they walked between +small open rooms on either side. Here stood statues gazing out--some of +marble, some of gold and ivory. The priests had moved to the front and +stood praying before the ancient statues of Zeus and Hera. But suddenly +Charmides stopped and would go no farther. For here, in a little room +all alone, stood his Hermes with the baby Dionysus. The boy cried out +softly with joy and crept toward the lovely thing. He gently touched the +golden sandal. He gazed into the kind blue eyes and smiled. The marble +was delicately tinted and glowed like warm skin. A frail wreath of +golden leaves lay on the curling hair. Charmides looked up at the tiny +baby and laughed at its coaxing arms. + +"Are you smiling at him?" he whispered to Hermes. "Or are you dreaming +of Olympos? Are you carrying him to the nymphs on Mount Nysa?" And then +more softly still he said, "Do not forget Creon, blessed god." + +When his father came back he found him still gazing into the quiet face +and smiling tenderly with love of the beautiful thing. As Menon led him +away, he waved a loving farewell to the god. + +The most wonderful time was after the sacrifice to Zeus before the great +temple with its deep porches and its marble watchers in the gable. +The altar was a huge pile of ashes. For hundreds of years Greeks had +sacrificed here. The holy ashes had piled up and piled up until they +stood as a hill more than twenty feet high. The people waited around the +foot of it, watching. The priests walked up its side. Men led up the +sleek cattle to be slain for the feast of the gods. And on the very top +a fire leaped toward heaven. Far up in the sky Charmides could half +see the beautiful gods leaning down and smiling upon their worshiping +people. + +Then he turned and walked with the crowd under the temple porch and into +the great, dim room. He trembled and grasped his father's hand in awe. +For there in the soft light towered great Zeus. In embroidered robes of +dull gold he sat high on his golden throne. His hands held his scepter +and his messenger eagle. His great yellow curls almost touched the +ceiling. He bent his divine face down, and his deep eyes glowed upon his +people. Sweet smoke was curling upward, and the room rang with a hymn. + +As Charmides gazed into the solemn face, a strange light quivered about +it, and the boy's heart shook with awe. The words of Homer sprank to his +lips: + +"Zeus bowed his head. The divine hair streamed back from the kindly +brows, and great Olympos quaked." + +After the sacrifices were over there was time to wander again among the +statues and to sit on the benches under the cool porches and watch the +moving crowd and the glittering sun on the gold ornaments of the temple +peaks. Then there was time to see again the strange sights of the fair +in the plain. The next morning was noisier and gayer than anything +Charmides had ever known. While it was still twilight his father hurried +him down the hill and through the gates, on through the sacred enclosure +to another gate. And all about them was a hurrying, noisy crowd. They +stumbled up some steps and began to wait. As the light grew, Charmides +saw all about him men and boys, sitting or standing, and all gaily +talking. Below the crowd he saw a long, narrow stretch of ground. He +clapped his hands. That was the ground Creon's feet would run upon! Up +and down both sides of the track went long tiers of stone seats. They +were packed with people who were there to see Creon win. The seats +curved around one narrow end of the course. But across the other end +stood a wall with a gate. Menon pointed to a large white board hanging +on the wall and said, "See! The list of athletes." + +Here were written names, and among them, "Creon, son of the Olympic +winner Menon." Charmides' eyes glowed with pride. + +Every eye was watching the gate. Soon the purple-clad judges entered. +Some of them walked the whole length of the stadion and took their seats +opposite the goal posts. Two or three waited at the starting line. There +was a blast of a trumpet. Then a herald cried something about games +for boys and about only Greeks of pure blood and about the blessing of +Hermes of the race course. + +Immediately there entered a crowd of boys, while the spectators sent +up a rousing cheer. The lads gathered to cast lots for places. At last +eight of them stepped out and stood at the starting line. Creon was not +among them. A post with a little fluttering flag was between every two. +The boys threw off their clothes and stood ready. One of the judges said +to them: + +"The eyes of the world are upon you. Your cities love an Olympic winner. +From Olympos the gods look down upon you. For the glory of your cities, +for the joy of your fathers, for your own good name, I exhort you to do +your best." + +Then he gave the signal and the runners shot forward. Down the long +course they went with twinkling legs. The spectators cheered, called +their names, waved their chlamyses and himations. Their friends cried +to the gods to help. Down they ran, two far ahead, others stringing out +behind. Every runner's eyes were on the marble goal post with its little +statue of Victory. In a moment it was over, and Leotichides had first +laid hand upon the post and was winner of the first heat. + +Immediately eight other boys took their places at the starting line. +Charmides snatched his father's hand and held it tight, for Creon was +one of them. Another signal and they were off, with Creon leading by +a pace or two. So it was all the way, and he gave a glad shout as he +touched the goal post. + +Charmides heard men all about him say: + +"A beautiful run!" + +"How easily he steps!" + +"We shall see him do something in the last heat." + +"Who is he?" + +And when the herald announced the name of the winner, the benches buzzed +with, + +"Creon, Creon, son of Menon the Athenian." + +Four more groups were called and ran. Then the six winners stepped up +to the line. This time the goal was the altar at the farther end of the +stadion. A wave of excitement ran around the seats. Everybody leaned +forward. The signal! Leotichides sprang a long pace ahead. Next came +Creon, loping evenly. One boy stumbled and fell behind. The other three +were running almost side by side. Menon was muttering between his teeth: + +"Hermes, be his aid! Great Zeus look upon him! Herakles give him wind!" + +Now they were near the goal, and Leotichides was still leading by a +stride. Then Creon threw back his head and stretched out his legs and +with ten great leaps he had touched the altar a good pace ahead. He had +won the race. + +The crowd went wild with shouting. Menon leaped over men's heads and +went running down the course calling for his son. But the guards caught +him and forced him back upon the seats. Charmides sat down and wept for +joy. And nobody saw him, for everybody was cheering and watching the +victor. + +One of the judges stepped out and gave a torch to Creon. The boy touched +the flame to the pile on the altar. As the fire sprang up, he stretched +his hands to the sky and cried, + +"O blessed Hermes, Creon will not forget thy help." + +As he turned away the judge gave him a palm in sign of victory. The boy +walked back down the course with the palm waving over his shoulder. His +body was glistening, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were burning +with joy. He was looking up at the crowd, hoping to see his father and +brother. And at every step men reached out a hand to him or called +to him, until at last Menon's own loving arms pulled him up upon the +benches. Then there was such a noise that no one heard any one else, but +everybody knew that everybody was happy. Men pushed their heads over +other men's shoulders, and boys peeped between their fathers' legs to +see the Olympic winner. And in that circle of faces Menon stood with +his arms about Creon, laughing and crying. And Charmides clung to his +brother's hand. But at last Creon whispered to his father: + +"I must go and make ready. I am entered for the pentathlon, also." + +Menon cried out in wonder. + +"I kept that news for a surprise," laughed Creon. "Good-by, little one," +he said to Charmides, and pushed through the crowd. + +Menon sat down trembling. If his boy should win in the pentathlon also! +That would be too great glory. It could not happen. He began to mutter a +hundred prayers. Another race was called--the double race, twice around +the course. But Menon did not stand to see it. He could think of nothing +but his glorious son. After the race was another great shout. Some other +boy was carrying a palm. Some other father was proud. Then followed +wrestling, bout after bout, and cheering from the crowd. But Menon cared +little for it all. + +It was now near noon. The sun shone down scorchingly. A wind whirled +dust up from the race course into people's faces. + +"My throat needs wetting," cried a man. + +He pulled off a little vase of wine that hung from his girdle and passed +it to Menon, saying: + +"I should be proud if the father of the victor would drink from my +bottle." + +And Menon took it, smiling proudly. Then he himself opened a little +cloth bag and drew out figs and nuts. + +"Here is something to munch, lad," he said to Charmides. + +Other people, also, were eating and drinking. They walked about to visit +their friends or sat down to rest. Menon's neighbor sank upon his seat +with a sigh. + +"This is the first time I have sat down since sunrise," he laughed. + +Then the pentathlon was announced. Everyone leaped to his feet again. A +group of boys stood ready behind a line. One of the judges was softening +the ground with a pick. An umpire made a speech to the lads. Then, at a +word, a boy took up the lead jumping weights. He swung his hands back +and forth, swaying his graceful body with them. Then a backward jerk! He +threw his weights behind him and leaped. The judges quickly measured +and called the distance. Then another boy leaped, and another, and +another--twenty or more. Last Creon took the weights and toed the line. + +"Creon! Creon!" shouted the crowd: "The victor! Creon again!" + +He swung and swayed and then sailed through the air. + +"By Herakles!" shouted a man near Charmides. "He alights like a +sea-gull." + +There went up a great roar from the benches even before the judges +called the distance. For any one could see that he had passed the +farthest mark. The first of the five games was over and Creon had won +it. + +Now the judges brought a discus. A boy took it and stepped behind the +line. He fitted the lead plate into the crook of his hand. He swung it +back and forth, bending his knees and turning his body. Then it flew +into the air and down the course. Where it stopped rolling an umpire +marked and called the distance. + +"I like this game best of all," said a man behind Charmides. "The whole +body is in it. Every movement is graceful. See the curve of the back, +the beautiful bend of the legs, the muscles working over the chest! The +body moves to and fro as if to music." + +One after another the boys took their turn. But when Creon threw, +Charmides cried out in sorrow, and Menon groaned. His disc fell short of +the mark. He was third. + +"It was gracefully done," Charmides heard some one say, "but his arms +are not so good as his legs. See the arms and chest of that Timon. No +one can throw against him." + +After that a judge set up a shield in the middle of the course. Every +boy snatched a spear from a pile on the ground and threw at the central +boss of the shield. Again Creon was beaten. Phormio of Corinth, son of a +famous warrior, won. + +Then they paired off for wrestling. Creon and Eudorus of Aegina were +together. Each boy poured oil into his hand from a little vase and +rubbed the body of his antagonist to limber his muscles. Then he took +fine sand from a box and dusted it over his skin for the oiled body +might slip out of his arms in the wrestling match. Then, at a signal, +the pairs of wrestlers faced each other. + +Creon held his hands out ready, bent his knees, thrust forward his head, +and stood waiting. Eudorus leaped to and fro around him trying to get a +hold. At last he rushed at him. Creon caught him around the waist and +hurled him to the ground. Charmides laughed and shouted and clapped +his hands. That was one throw. There must be three. Eudorus was up +immediately and was circling around and around again. Suddenly Creon +leaped low and caught him by the leg and threw him. He had won two bouts +out of three and stood victor without a throw. + +Soon all the pairs had finished. The eight victors stood forth and cast +lots for new partners. Again they wrestled. This time, also, Creon won. +Then these four winners paired off and wrestled, and at the end Creon +and Timon were left to try it together. + +In the first bout the Spartan boy lifted Creon off the ground and threw +him, back down. Then the men on the benches began shouting advice. + +"Look out for his arms!" + +"Don't let him grapple you!" + +"Feint, feint!" + +Creon leaped to his feet. He began circling around Timon as Eudorus had +circled around him. He dodged out from under Timon's arms. He wriggled +from between his hands. The benches rang with cheers and laughs. + +"He is an eel," cried one man. + +Suddenly Creon ducked under Timon's arms, caught him by his legs and +tripped him. The two boys were even. + +In the next bout Timon ran at Creon like a wild bull. He caught him +around the waist in his strong arms to whirl him to the ground. But with +a crook of his leg Creon tripped him and wriggled out of his arms before +he fell. + +Menon caught up Charmides and threw him to his shoulder laughing and +stamping his feet. + +"Do you see, lad?" he cried. "He has won two games. Only the race is +left, and we know how he can run." + +And how he did run! He threw back his head and leaped out like a deer, +skimming over the ground in long strides and leaving his dust to the +others. He had the three games out of five and was winner of the +pentathlon. + +Then there was no holding the crowd. They poured down off the seats and +ran to Creon. Some lifted him upon their shoulders and carried him out +of the stadion, for this was the end of the games for that day. And +those who could not come near Creon and his waving palms crowded around +Menon. So they went, shouting, out of the gate and among the statues and +on to the river. There they put Creon down, and his father and Charmides +led him away to camp. + +That was the happiest night of Charmides' life. He heard his wonderful +brother talk for hours of the life in the gymnasium. He heard new tales +of Creon's favorite god, Hermes. He heard of the women's games that were +held once a year at Olympia in honor of Hera. He heard a hundred new +names of boys and cities, for there had been, athletes from every corner +of Greece in training here. He held the victor's palms in his own hands. +He slept beside this double winner of Olympic crowns. He dreamed that +Apollo and Hermes came hand in hand and gazed down at him and Creon as +they lay sleeping and dropped a great garland over them both. It was +twined of Olympic olive leaves and Apollo's own laurel. + +On the next day there were games for the men, like those the boys had +played. On the day after that there were chariot races in a wide place +outside the walls. Every night there was still the gay noise of the +fair. But instead of going to see it, Charmides stretched himself under +the trees on Mount Kronion and gazed up at the moon and dreamed. + +Then came the last day, with its great procession again and its +sacrifices at every altar. The proud victors walked with their palm +leaves in their hands. In the temple of Zeus, under the eyes of the +glowing god, the priests put the precious olive crowns upon the winners' +heads. They were made from sacred olive leaves. They were cut with a +golden sickle from the very tree that godlike Herakles had brought out +of the far north. That wreath it was which should be more dear than a +chest of gold to Creon's family and Creon's city. That was the crown +which poets should sing about. When the priest set the crown upon +Creon's head, Charmides thought he felt a god's hands upon his own brow. +Menon leaned upon a friend's shoulder and burst into tears. + +"I could die happy now," he said. "I have done enough for Athens in +giving her such a glorious son." + +As the three walked back to camp, Menon said: + +"Who shall write your chorus of triumph, Creon? Already my messengers +have reached Athens, and the dancers are chosen who shall lead you home. +But the song is not yet made. It must be a glorious one!" + +Then Charmides blushingly whispered, + +"May I sing you something, father? Apollo helped me to make it." + +His father smiled down in surprise. "So that is why you have been lying +so quiet under the trees these moonlit nights!" he said. + +Charmides ran ahead and was sitting thrumming a lyre when his father +and Creon came up. He struck a long, ringing chord and raised his clear +voice in a dancing song: + + When Creon, son of Menon, bore off the Olympic olive, + Mount Kronion shook with shouting of Hellas' hosts assembled. + They praised his manly beauty, his grace and strength of body. + They praised his eyes' alertness, the smoothness of his muscles. + They blessed his happy father and wished themselves his brothers. + Sweet rang the glorious praises in ears of Creon's lovers. + But I, when upward gazing, beheld a sight more wondrous. + The gates of high Olympos were open wide and clanging, + Deserted ev'ry palace, the golden city empty. + And all the gods were gathered above Olympia's race-course, + They smiled upon my Creon and gifts upon him showered. + From golden Aphrodite dropped half a hundred graces. + Athene made him skillful. Boon Hermes gave him litheness. + Fierce Ares added courage, Queen Hera happy marriage. + Diana's blessed fingers into his soul shed quiet. + Lord Bacchus gave him friendship and graces of the banquet, + Poseidon luck in travel, and Zeus decreed him victor. + Apollo, smiling, watched him and saw his thousand blessings. + "Enough," he said, "for Creon. I'll bless the empty-handed." + He turned to where I trembled, and stepping downward crowned me. + "To thee my gift," he whispered, "to sing thy brother's glory." + +"Well done, little poet!" cried Menon. + +"A happy man am I. One son is beloved by Hermes, the other by Apollo. +Bring wax tablets, Glaucon, and write down the song. I will prepare a +messenger to hurry with it to Athens." + +So it happened that a lame boy won a crown. And when Creon stepped +ashore at Pirseus, and all Athens stood shouting his name, a chorus of +boys came dancing toward him singing his brother's song. Creon was led +home wearing Zeus' wreath upon his head, and Charmides with Apollo's +crown in his heart. [Illustration: _A Coin of Alexander the Great_. It +shows Zeus sitting on his throne.] + + + + +HOW A CITY WAS LOST + +Such was Olympia long ago. Every four years such games took place. Then +the plain was crowded and busy and gay. Year after year new statues were +set up, new gifts were brought, new buildings were made. Olympia was +one of the richest places in the world. Its fame flew to every land. At +every festival new people came to see its beauties. It was the meeting +place of the world. + +But meantime the bad fortune of Greece began. Her cities quarreled and +fought among themselves. A king came down from the north and conquered +her. After that the Romans sailed over from Italy and conquered her +again. Often Roman emperors carried off some of her statues to make Rome +beautiful. Shipload after shipload they took. The new country was filled +with Greek statues. The old one was left almost empty. Later, after +Christ was born, and the Romans and the Greeks had become Christian, the +emperor said, + +"It is not fitting for Christians to hold a festival in honor of a +heathen god." And he stopped the games. He took away the gold and silver +gifts from the treasure houses. He carried away the gold and ivory +statues. Where Phidias' wonderful Zeus went nobody knows. Perhaps the +gold was melted to make money. Olympia sat lonely and deserted by her +river banks. Summer winds whirled dust under her porches. Rabbits made +burrows in Zeus' altar. Doors rusted off their hinges. Foxes made their +dens in Hera's temple. Men came now and then to melt up a bronze statue +for swords or to haul away the stones of her temples for building. +The Alpheios kept eating away its banks and cutting under statues and +monuments. Many a beautiful thing crumbled and fell into the river and +was rolled on down to the sea. Men sometimes found a bronze helmet or a +marble head in the bed of the stream. + +After a long time people came and lived among the ruins. On an old +temple floor they built a little church. Men lived in the temple of +Zeus, and women spun and gossiped where the golden statue had sat. In +the temple of Hera people set up a wine press. Did they know that the +little marble baby in the statue near them was the god of the vineyard +and had taught men to make wine? Out of broken statues and columns and +temple stones they built a wall around the little town to keep out their +enemies. Sometimes when they found a bronze warrior or a marble god they +must have made strange stories about it, for they had half forgotten +those wonderful old Greeks. But the marble statues they put into a kiln +to make lime to plaster their houses. The bronze ones they melted up for +tools. Sometimes they found a piece of gold. They thought themselves +lucky then and melted it over into money. + +But an earthquake shook down the buildings and toppled over the statues. +The columns and walls of the grand old temple of Zeus fell in a heap. +The marble statues in its pediments dropped to the ground and broke. +Victory fell from her high pillar and shattered into a hundred pieces. +The roof of Hera's temple fell in, and Hermes stood uncovered to the +sky. Old Kronion rocked and sent a landslide down over the treasure +houses. Kladeos rushed out of his course and poured sand over the sacred +place. + +That earthquake frightened the people away, and they left Olympia alone +again. Hermes was still there, but he looked out upon ruins. Victory lay +in a heap of fragments. Apollo was there, but broken and buried in earth +with the other people of the pediments. Zeus and all the hundreds of +heroes and athletes were gone. So it was for a while. Then a new race of +people came and built another little town upon the earth-covered ruins. +They little guessed what lay below their poor houses. But for some +reason this town, also, died and left the ruins alone. Then dusty winds +and flooding rivers began to cover up what was left. Kladeos piled up +sand fifteen feet deep. Alpheios swung out of its banks and washed away +the race-course for chariots. Under the rains and floods the sun-dried +bricks of Hera's walls melted again into clay and covered the floor. +Again the earth quaked, and Hermes fell forward on his face, and little +was left of the beautiful old Olympia. Grass and flowers crept in from +the sides. Seeds blew in and shrubs and trees took the place of columns. +Soon the flowers and the animals had Olympia to themselves. A few gray +stones thrust up through the soil. So it was for hundreds of years. +Greece was conquered by the men of Venice and then by the Turks. But +Olympia, in its far corner, was forgotten and untouched except when a +Turkish officer or farmer went there to dig a few stones out of the +ground. And they knew nothing of the ancient gods and the ancient +festival and the old story of the place, for they were foreigners and +new people. + +But about a hundred years ago Englishmen and Germans and Frenchmen began +to visit Greece. They went to see, not her new Turkish houses or her +Venetian castles or the strange dress of her new people, but her old +ruins and the signs of her old glory. These men had read of Olympia in +ancient Greek books and they knew what statues and buildings had once +stood there. They wrote back to their friends things like this: + +"I saw a piece of a huge column lying on top of the ground. It was seven +feet across. It must have belonged to the temple of Zeus." + +"To-day I saw a long, low place in the ground where I think must have +been the stadion in ancient days." + +At last, about thirty years ago, Ernst Curtius and several other Germans +went there. They were men who had studied Greek history and Greek art +and they planned to excavate Olympia. + +"We will uncover the sacred enclosure again. Men shall see again the +ancient temples and altars, the stadion, the statues." + +Germany had given them money for the work, and at last Greece allowed +them to begin. In October they started their digging. Workmen up-rooted +shrubs and dug away dirt. Excavators watched every spadeful. They were +always measuring, making maps, taking notes. They found a few vases, +terra cotta figures, pieces of bronze statues, swords and armor. They +cleared off temple floors and were able to make out the plans of the old +buildings. They found the empty pedestals of many statues. Yet they were +disappointed. Olympia had been a beautiful place, a rich place. They +were finding only the hints of these things. The beauty was gone. Of the +three thousand statues that had been there should they not find one? + +Then they uncovered the fallen statues of the pediments of Zeus' temple. +Thirty or more there were--Apollo, Zeus, heroes, women, centaurs, +horses. Arms were gone, heads were broken, legs were lost. The +excavators fitted together all the pieces and set the mended statues up +side by side as they had been in the gable. They found, too, the carved +marble slabs that showed the labors of Herakles. But even these were not +the lovely things that people had hoped to see from Olympia. They were +rather stiff and ungraceful. They had not been made by the greatest +artists. In the temple of Hera one day men were digging in clay. Over +all the rest of Olympia was only sand. The excavators wondered for a +long time why this one spot should have clay. Where could it have come +from? They read their old books over and over. They thought and studied. +At last they said: + +"The walls of the temple must have been made of sun-dried brick. In the +old days they must have been covered with plaster. This and the roof +kept them dry. But the plaster cracked off, and the roof fell in, and +the rain and the floods turned the bricks back to clay again." + +Then one May morning, when the men were digging in the clay, a workman +lifted off his spadeful of dirt, and white marble gleamed out. After +that there was careful work, with all the excavators standing about to +watch. What would it be? They thought over all the statues that the +ancient books said had stood in Hera's temple. Then were slowly +uncovered, a smooth back, a carved shoulder, a curly head. A white +statue of a young man lay face down in the gray clay. The legs were +gone. The right arm was missing. From his left hung carved drapery. On +his left shoulder lay a tiny marble hand. + +"It is the Hermes of Praxiteles," the excavators whispered among +themselves. + +In his day Praxiteles had been almost as famous as Phidias. The old +Greek world had rung with his praises. Modern men had dreamed of what +his statues must have been and had longed to see them. How did he shape +the head? How did his bodies curve? What expression was on his faces? +All these things they had wished to know. But not one of his statues +had ever been found. Now here lay one before the very eyes of these +excavators. They put out their hands and lovingly touched the polished +marble skin. But what would they find when they lifted it?--Perhaps the +nose would be gone, the face flattened by the fall, the ears broken, the +beautiful marble chipped. They almost feared to lift it. But at last +they did so. + +When they saw the face, they were struck dumb by its beauty, and I think +tears sprang into the eyes of some of them. No such perfect piece of +marble had ever been found before. There was not a scratch. The skin +still glowed with the polishing that Praxiteles' own hands had given it. +There was even a hint of color on the lips. The soft clay bed had saved +the falling statue. Here was a statue that the whole world would love. +It would make the name of Olympia famous again. The excavators were +proud and happy. That old ruined temple seemed indeed a sacred place to +them as they gazed upon perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. + +"Surely we shall find nothing else so perfect," they said. + +Yet they went on with the work. Before long Hermes' right foot was found +imbedded in the clay. Its sandal still shone with the gilding put on two +thousand years before. Workmen were tearing down one of the houses of +the little town that had been built on the ancient ruins. Every stone in +it had some old story. Pieces of fluted columns, carved capitals, broken +pedestals, blocks from the temple of Zeus--all were cemented together to +make these walls. The workmen pulled and chipped and lifted out piece +after piece. The excavators studied each scrap to see whether it was +valuable. And at last they found a baby's body. They carefully broke off +the mortar. It was of creamy marble, beautifully carved. They carried it +to Hermes. It fitted upon the drapery over his arm. On a rubbish heap +outside the temple they had found a little marble head. They put it upon +this baby's shoulders. It was badly broken, but they could see that it +belonged there. So after two thousand years Hermes again smiled into the +eyes of the baby Dionysus. + +Other things were found. The shattered Victory was uncovered. Carefully +the excavators fitted the pieces together. But the wide wings could +never be made again, and the head was ruined. Even so, the statue is a +beautiful thing, with its thin drapery flying in the wind. + +After five years the work was finished. Now again hundreds of visitors +journey to Olympia every year. They see no gleaming roofs and +high-lifted statues and joyful games. They walk among sad ruins. But +they can tread the gymnasium floor where Creon and many another victor +wrestled. They can enter the gate of the grass-grown stadion. They can +see the fallen columns of the temple of Zeus. In the museum they can see +the statues of its pediments and, at the end of the long hall, they +see Victory stepping toward them. They can wander on the banks of the +Kladeos and the Alpheios. They can climb Mount Kronion and see the whole +little plain and imagine it gay with tents and moving people. + +All these things are interesting to those who like the old Greek life. +But most people make the long journey only to see Hermes. In the museum, +in a little room all alone, he stands, always calm and lovable, always +dreaming of something beautiful, always half smiling at the coaxing +baby. + + + + +PICTURES OF OLYMPIA + + +ENTRANCE TO STADION. + +This was not the gate where Charmides entered. This entrance was +reserved for the judges, the competitors, and the heralds. Inside there +were seats for forty-five thousand people. On one side the hill made a +natural slope for seats. But on the other sides a ridge of earth had to +be built up. The track was about two hundred yards long. Only the two +ends have been excavated. The rest still lies deep under the sand. + + +GYMNASIUM. + +Here Creon and the other boys spent a month in training before the +games. The gymnasium had a covered portico as long as the track in the +stadion, where the boys could run in bad weather. A Greek boy of to-day +is playing on his shepherd's pipes in the foreground, and they are the +same kind of pipes on which the old Greeks played. + + +BOYS IN GYMNASIUM. + +From a vase painting. They are wrestling, jumping with weights, throwing +the spear, throwing the discus, while their teachers watch them. One man +is saying, "A beautiful boy, truly." + + +THE TEMPLE OF ZEUS. + +When we see a picture of fallen broken columns lying about a field +in disorder, we try to learn how the original building looked and to +imagine it in all its beauty. This, men believe, is the way the Temple +of Zeus looked. The figures in the pediment were all of Parian marble. +In the center stands Zeus himself. A chariot race is about to be run, +and the contestants stand on either side of Zeus. Zeus gave the victory +to Pelops, and Pelops became husband of Hippodameia, and king of Pisa, +and founded the Olympic Games. These games were held every fourth year +for more than a thousand years. + + Note: This and the following plates of the Labors of Herakles and the + statue of Victory, were photographed from Curtius and Adler's + "Olympia: Die Ergebnisse der von dem Deutschen Reich Veranstalteten + Ausgrabung," etc. This is one of the most beautiful books ever made + for a buried city. + +Boys and girls who can reach the Metropolitan Museum Library should not +miss it. It is in many volumes, each almost as large as the top of the +table, and you do not need to read German to appreciate the plates. + + +THE LABORS OF HERAKLES. + +Under the porches of the Temple of Zeus were twelve pictures in marble, +six at each end, showing the Labors of Herakles. Herakles was highly +honored at Olympia and, according to one tale, he, instead of Pelops, +was the founder of the Olympic Games. + +[Illustration: Herakles and the Nemean lion.--_Metropolitan Museum_] + +[Illustration: Herakles and the hydra.--_Metropolitan Museum_] + + +THE STATUE OF VICTORY. + +In the sand, not far from the Temple of Zeus, the explorers found the +fragments of this statue. It shows the goddess flying down from heaven +to bring victory to the men of Messene and Naupaktos. So the victors +must have erected this statue at Olympia in gratitude. + +Something like the picture used as the frontispiece, men believe the +statue looked originally. It stood upon a base thirty feet high so that +the goddess really looked as if she were descending from heaven. + + +THE TEMPLE OF HERA. + +This shows the ruins of the temple where Charmides saw the statue of +Hermes, perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. + + +HEAD OF AN ATHLETE. + +The Greek artist who made this statue believed that a beautiful body is +glorious, as well as a beautiful mind, and a fine spirit. Do you +think his statue shows all these things? The original is now at the +Metropolitan Museum. + + +A GREEK HORSEMAN. + +The artist had great skill who could chisel out of marble such a strong, +bold rider, and such a spirited horse. + + This picture and the one before it are not pictures of things found at + Olympia. They are two of the most beautiful statues of Greek athletes, and we + give them to remind you of the sort of people who came to the games at + Olympia. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Buried Cities, Volume 2, by Jennie Hall + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 *** + +This file should be named 8bct210.txt or 8bct210.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8bct211.txt +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8bct210a.txt + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN EBOOKS*Ver.02/11/02*END* + diff --git a/old/8bct210.zip b/old/8bct210.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..6bc9172 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8bct210.zip diff --git a/old/8bct210h.htm b/old/8bct210h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..123bd59 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/8bct210h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,1790 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> +<head> +<title>BURIED CITIES</title> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=iso-8859-1"> +<style type="text/css"> +<!-- +body {margin:10%; text-align:justify} +img {border: 0;} +blockquote {font-size:14pt} +P {font-size:14pt} +--> +</style> +</head> +<body> + +<h1>Buried Cities, Volume 2, Olympia</h1> +<pre> +The Project Gutenberg EBook of Buried Cities, Volume 2, by Jennie Hall +#2 in our series by Jennie Hall + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the +copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing +this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook. + +This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project +Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the +header without written permission. + +Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the +eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is +important information about your specific rights and restrictions in +how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a +donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**eBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*****These eBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers!***** + + +Title: Buried Cities, Volume 2 + Olympia + +Author: Jennie Hall + +Release Date: January, 2006 [EBook #9626] +[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] +[This file was first posted on October 10, 2003] + +Edition: 10 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 *** + + + + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders + + + + + +</pre> + + +<br><hr><br> + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="titlepage.jpg (28K)" src="titlepage.jpg" height="699" width="739"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<center> +<h1>BURIED CITIES</h1> + +<h3>BY</h3> + +<h2>JENNIE HALL</h2> + +<br><br><br><br> +</center> + + +<p>The publishers are grateful to the estate of Miss Jennie Hall and to her +many friends for assistance in planning the publication of this book. +Especial thanks are due to Miss Nell C. Curtis of the Lincoln School, +New York City, for helping to finish Miss Hall's work of choosing the +pictures, and to Miss Irene I. Cleaves of the Francis Parker School, +Chicago, who wrote the captions. It was Miss Katharine Taylor, now of +the Shady Hill School, Cambridge, who brought these stories to our +attention.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> +<center> +<h2> +FOREWORD: TO BOYS AND GIRLS</h2> +</center><br> +<p>Do you like to dig for hidden treasure? Have you ever found Indian +arrowheads or Indian pottery? I knew a boy who was digging a cave in +a sandy place, and he found an Indian grave. With his own hands he +uncovered the bones and skull of some brave warrior. That brown skull +was more precious to him than a mint of money. Another boy I knew was +making a cave of his own. Suddenly he dug into an older one made years +before. He crawled into it with a leaping heart and began to explore. He +found an old carpet and a bit of burned candle. They proved that some +one had lived there. What kind of a man had he been and what kind +of life had he lived--black or white or red, robber or beggar or +adventurer? Some of us were walking in the woods one day when we saw a +bone sticking out of the ground. Luckily we had a spade, and we set to +work digging. Not one moment was the tool idle. First one bone and then +another came to light and among them a perfect horse's skull. We felt as +though we had rescued Captain Kidd's treasure, and we went home draped +in bones.</p> + +<p>Suppose that instead of finding the bones of a horse we had uncovered a +gold-wrapped king. Suppose that instead of a deserted cave that boy +had dug into a whole buried city with theaters and mills and shops and +beautiful houses. Suppose that instead of picking up an Indian arrowhead +you could find old golden vases and crowns and bronze swords lying in +the earth. If you could be a digger and a finder and could choose your +find, would you choose a marble statue or a buried bakeshop with bread +two thousand years old still in the oven or a king's grave filled with +golden gifts? It is of such digging and such finding that this book +tells.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h2>CONTENTS</h2> + + +<br><br> +<h3><a href="#olympia">OLYMPIA</a></h3> + +<p> 1. <a href="#winners">Two Winners of Crowns</a></p> + +<p> 2. <a href="#lost">How a City Was Lost</a></p> + +<p> <i><a href="#PICTURES_OF_OLYMPIA">Pictures of Olympia</a></i>:</p> + +<p> <a href="#28">Entrance to Stadion</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#29">Gymnasium</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#118a">Boys in Gymnasium</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#30">Temple of Zeus</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#31">The Labors of Herakles</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#37">The Statue of Victory</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#38">The Hermes of Praxiteles</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#39">The Temple of Hera</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#40">Head of an Athlete</a></p> + +<p> <a href="#41">A Greek Horseman</a></p> + + + + + +<br><br><br> +<hr> +<br><br><br> +<a name="olympia"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h1>OLYMPIA</h1> +</center> +<br><br> + +<br> +<center> +<img alt="vasestore.jpg (60K)" src="vasestore.jpg" height="430" width="441"> +</center> + +<a name="winners"></a> +<br><br> + + +<center> +<h3>TWO WINNERS OF CROWNS</h3> +</center> +<br> +<p>The July sun was blazing over the country of Greece. Dust from the dry +plain hung in the air. But what cared the happy travelers for dust or +heat? They were on their way to Olympia to see the games. Every road +teemed with a chattering crowd of men and boys afoot and on horses. They +wound down from the high mountains to the north. They came along the +valley from the east and out from among the hills to the south. Up from +the sea led the sacred road, the busiest of all. A little caravan of men +and horses was trying to hurry ahead through the throng. The master +rode in front looking anxiously before him as though he did not see the +crowd. After him rode a lad. His eyes were flashing eagerly here and +there over the strange throng. A man walked beside the horse and watched +the boy smilingly. Behind them came a string of pack horses with slaves +to guard the loads of wine and food and tents and blankets for their +master's camp.</p> + +<p>"What a strange-looking man, Glaucon!" said the boy. "He has a dark +skin."</p> + +<p>The boy's own skin was fair, and under his hat his hair was golden. As +he spoke he pointed to a man on the road who was also riding at the head +of a little caravan. His skin was dark. Shining black hair covered his +ears. His garment was gay with colored stripes.</p> + +<p>"He is a merchant from Egypt," answered the man. "He will have curious +things to sell--vases of glass, beads of amber, carved ivory, and +scrolls gay with painted figures. You must see them, Charmides."</p> + +<p>But already the boy had forgotten the Egyptian.</p> + +<p>"See the chariot!" he cried.</p> + +<p>It was slowly rolling along the stony road. A grave, handsome man stood +in it holding the reins. Beside him stood another man with a staff in +his hand. Behind the chariot walked two bowmen. After them followed a +long line of pack horses led by slaves. "They are the delegates from +Athens," explained Glaucon. "There are, doubtless, rich gifts for Zeus +on the horses and perhaps some stone tablets engraved with new laws."</p> + +<p>But the boy was not listening.</p> + +<p>"Jugglers! Jugglers!" he cried.</p> + +<p>And there they were at the side of the road, showing their tricks and +begging for coins. One man was walking on his hands and tossing a ball +about with his feet. Another was swallowing a sword.</p> + +<p>"Stop, Glaucon!" cried Charmides, "I must see him. He will kill +himself."</p> + +<p>"No, my little master," replied the slave. "You shall see him again at +Olympia. See your father. He would be vexed if we waited."</p> + +<p>And there was the master ahead, pushing forward rapidly, looking neither +to the right hand nor the left. The boy sighed.</p> + +<p>"He is hurrying to see Creon. He forgets me!" he thought.</p> + +<p>But immediately his eyes were caught by some new thing, and his face +was gay again. So the little company traveled up the sloping road amid +interesting sights. For here were people from all the corners of the +known world--Greeks from Asia in trailing robes, Arabs in white turbans, +black men from Egypt, kings from Sicily, Persians with their curled +beards, half civilized men from the north in garments of skin. "See!" +said Glaucon at last as they reached a hilltop, "the temple!"</p> + +<p>He pointed ahead. There shone the tip of the roof and its gold ornament. +Hovering above was a marble statue with spread wings.</p> + +<p>"And there is Victory!" whispered Charmides. "She is waiting for Creon. +She will never wait for me," and he sighed.</p> + +<p>The crowd broke into a shout when they saw the temple. A company of +young men flew by, singing a song. Charmides passed a sick man. The +slaves had set down his litter, and he had stretched out his hands +toward the temple and was praying. For the sick were sometimes cured +by a visit to Olympia. The boy's father had struck his heels into his +horse's sides and was galloping forward, calling to his followers to +hasten.</p> + +<p>In a few moments they reached higher land. Then they saw the sacred +place spread out before them. There was the wall all around it. Inside +it shone a few buildings and a thousand statues. Along one side +stretched a row of little marble treasure houses. At the far corner lay +the stadion with its rows of stone seats. Nearer and outside the wall +was the gymnasium. Even from a distance Charmides could see men running +about in the court.</p> + +<p>"There are the athletes!" he thought. "Creon is with them."</p> + +<p>Behind all these buildings rose a great hill, dark green with trees. +Down from the hill poured a little stream. It met a wide river that +wound far through the valley. In the angle of these rivers lay Olympia. +The temple and walls and gymnasium were all of stone and looked as +though they had been there forever. But in the meadow all around the +sacred place was a city of winged tents. There were little shapeless +ones of skins lying over sticks. There were round huts woven of rushes. +There were sheds of poles with green boughs laid upon them. There were +tall tents of gaily striped canvas. Farther off were horses tethered. +And everywhere were gaily robed men moving about. Menon, Charmides' +father, looking ahead from the high place, turned to a slave.</p> + +<p>"Run on quickly," he said. "Save a camping place for us there on Mount +Kronion, under the trees."</p> + +<p>The man was off. Menon spoke to the other servants. "Push forward and +make camp. I will visit the gymnasium. Come, Charmides, we will go to +see Creon."</p> + +<p>They rode down the slope toward Olympia. As they passed among the tents +they saw friends and exchanged kind greetings.</p> + +<p>"Ah, Menon!" called one. "There is good news of Creon. Every one expects +great things of him."</p> + +<p>"I have kept room for your camp next my tent, Menon," said another.</p> + +<p>"Here are sights for you, Charmides," said a kind old man.</p> + +<p>Charmides caught a glimpse of gleaming marble among the crowd and +guessed that some sculptor was showing his statues for sale. Yonder was +a barber's tent. Gentlemen were sitting in chairs and men were cutting +their hair or rubbing their faces smooth with stone. In one place a +man was standing on a little platform. A crowd was gathered about him +listening, while he read from a scroll in his hands.</p> + +<p>But the boy had only a glimpse of these things, for his father was +hurrying on. In a moment they crossed a bridge over a river and stopped +before a low, wide building. Glaucon helped Charmides off his horse. +Menon spoke a few words to the porter at the gate. The man opened the +door and led the visitors in. Charmides limped along beside his father, +for he was lame. That was what had made him sigh when he had seen +Victory hovering over Olympia. She would never give him the olive +branch. But now he did not think of that. His heart was beating fast. +His eyes were big. For before him lay a great open court baking in the +sun. More than a hundred boys were at work there, leaping, wrestling, +hurling the disk, throwing spears. During the past months they had been +living here, training for the games. The sun had browned their bare +bodies. Now their smooth skins were shining with sweat and oil. As they +bent and twisted they looked like beautiful statues turned brown and +come alive. Among them walked men in long purple robes. They seemed to +be giving commands.</p> + +<p>"They are the judges," whispered Glaucon. "They train the boys."</p> + +<p>All around the hot court ran a deep, shady portico. Here boys lay on +the tiled floor or on stone benches, resting from their exercise. Near +Charmides stood one with his back turned. He was scraping the oil and +dust from his body with a strigil. Charmides' eyes danced with joy +at the beauty of the firm, round legs and the muscles moving in the +shoulders. Then the athlete turned toward the visitors and Charmides +cried out, "Creon!" and ran and threw his arms around him.</p> + +<p>Then there was gay talk; Creon asked about the home and mother and +sisters in Athens, for he had been here in training for almost ten +months. Menon and Charmides had a thousand questions about the games.</p> + +<p>"I know I shall win, father," said Creon softly. "Four nights ago Hermes +appeared to me in my sleep and smiled upon me. I awoke suddenly and +there was a strange, sweet perfume in the air."</p> + +<p>Tears sprang into his father's eyes. "Now blessed be the gods!" he +cried, "and most blessed Hermes, the god of the gymnasium!"</p> + +<p>After a little Menon and Charmides said farewell and went away through +the chattering crowd and up under the cool trees on Mount Kronion to +their camp. The slaves had cut poles and set them up and thrown a wide +linen cover over them. Under it they had put a little table holding +lumps of brown cheese, a flat loaf of bread, a basket of figs, a pile +of crisp lettuce. Just outside the tent grazed a few goats. A man in a +soiled tunic was squatted milking one. Menon's slave stood waiting and, +as his master came up, he took the big red bowl of foaming milk and +carried it to the table. The goatherd picked up his long crook and +started his flock on, calling, "Milk! Milk to sell!"</p> + +<p>Menon was gay now. His worries were over. His camp was pitched in a +pleasant place. His son was well and sure of victory.</p> + +<p>"Come, little son," he called to Charmides. "You must be as hungry as a +wolf. But first our thanks to the gods."</p> + +<p>A slave had poured a little wine into a flat cup and stood now offering +it to his master. Menon took it and held it high, looking up into the +blue heavens.</p> + +<p>"O gracious Hermes!" he cried aloud, "fulfill thy omen! And to Zeus, the +father, and to all the immortals be thanks."</p> + +<p>As he prayed he turned the cup and spilled the wine upon the ground. +That was the god's portion. A slave spread down a rug for his master +to lie upon and put cushions under his elbow. Glaucon did the same for +Charmides, and the meal began. Menon talked gaily about their journey, +the games to-morrow, Creon's training. But Charmides was silent. At last +his father said:</p> + +<p>"Well, little wolf, you surely are gulping! Are you so starved?"</p> + +<p>"No," said Charmides with full mouth. "I'm in a hurry. I want to see +things."</p> + +<p>His father laughed and leaped to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Just like me, lad. Come on!"</p> + +<p>Charmides snatched a handful of figs and rolled out of the tent +squealing with joy. Menon came after him, laughing, and Glaucon followed +to care for them. "The sun is setting," said Menon. "It will soon be +dark, and to-morrow are the games. They will keep us busy when they +begin, so you must use your eyes to-day if you want to see the fair."</p> + +<p>He stopped on the hillside and looked down into the sacred place.</p> + +<p>"It is wonderful!" he said, half to himself. "The home of glory! I love +every stone of it. I have not been here since I myself won the single +race. And now my son is to win it. That was when you were a baby, +Charmides."</p> + +<p>"I know, father," whispered the boy with shining eyes. "I have kissed +your olive wreath, where it hangs above our altar at home."</p> + +<p>The father put his hand lovingly on the boy's yellow head.</p> + +<p>"By the help of Hermes there soon will be a green one there for you to +kiss, lad. The gods are very good to crown our family twice."</p> + +<p>"I wish there were crowns for lame boys to win," said Charmides. "I +would win one!"</p> + +<p>He said that fiercely and clenched his fist. His father looked kindly +into his eyes and spoke solemnly.</p> + +<p>"I think you would, my son. Perhaps there are such crowns."</p> + +<p>They started on thoughtfully and soon were among the crowd. There were +a hundred interesting sights. They passed an outdoor oven like a little +round hill of stones and clay. The baker was just raking the fire out of +the little door on the side. Charmides waited to see him put the loaves +into the hot cave. But before it was done a horn blew and called him +away to a little table covered with cakes.</p> + +<p>"Honey cakes! Almond cakes! Fig cakes!" sang the man. "Come buy!"</p> + +<p>There they lay--stars and fish and ships and temples. Charmides picked +up one in the shape of a lyre.</p> + +<p>"I will take this one," he said, and solemnly ate it.</p> + +<p>"Why are you so solemn, son?" laughed Menon.</p> + +<p>The boy did not answer. He only looked up at his father with deep eyes +and said nothing. But in a moment he was racing off to see some rope +dancers.</p> + +<p>"Glaucon," said the master to the slave, "take care of the boy. Give him +a good time. Buy him what he wants. Take him back to camp when he is +tired. I have business to do."</p> + +<p>Then he turned to talk with a friend, who had come up, and Glaucon +followed his little master.</p> + +<p>What a good time the boy had! The rope dancers, the sword swallowers, +the Egyptian with his painted scroll, a trained bear that wrestled with +a wild-looking man dressed in skins, a cooking tent where whole sheep +were roasting and turning over a fire, another where tiny fish were +boiling in a great pot of oil and jumping as if alive--he saw them all. +He stood under the sculptors' awning and gazed at the marble people more +beautiful than life. And when he came upon Apollo striking his lyre, his +heart leaped into his mouth. He stood quiet for a long time gazing at +this god of song. Then he walked out of the tent with shining eyes.</p> + +<p>At last it grew dark, and torches began to blaze in front of the booths.</p> + +<p>"Shall we go home, Charmides?" said Glaucon.</p> + +<p>"Oh, no!" cried the boy. "I haven't seen it all. I am not tired. It is +gayer now than ever with the torches. See all those shining flames."</p> + +<p>And he ran to a booth where a hundred little bronze lamps hung, each +with its tongue of clear light. It was an imagemaker's booth. The table +stood full of little clay statues of the gods. Charmides took up one. It +was a young man leaning against a tree trunk. On his arm he held a baby.</p> + +<p>"It is a model of the great marble Hermes in the temple of Hera, my +little master," said the image maker. "Great Praxiteles made that one, +poor Philo made this one."</p> + +<p>"It is beautiful," said Charmides and turned away, holding it tenderly +in his hand.</p> + +<p>Glaucon waited a moment to pay for the figure. Then he followed +Charmides who had walked on. He was standing on the bridge gazing at the +water.</p> + +<p>"Glaucon," he said, "I must see that statue of Hermes."</p> + +<p>They stood there talking about the wonderful works of Praxiteles and of +many another artist. Glaucon pointed to a little wooden shed lying in +the meadow.</p> + +<p>"That," he said, "is the workshop of Phidias. There he made the gold and +ivory statue of Zeus that you shall see in Zeus's temple. That workshop +will stay there many a year, I think, for people to love because so +great a thing was done there."</p> + +<p>"Is it so wonderful?" asked Charmides.</p> + +<p>"When it was finished," Glaucon answered solemnly, "Phidias stood before +it and prayed to Zeus to tell him whether it pleased the god. Great Zeus +heard the prayer, and in his joy at the beautiful thing he hurled a +blazing thunderbolt and smote the floor before the statue as if to say, +'This image is Zeus himself.' But I have never seen it, for a slave may +not pass the sacred wall."</p> + +<p>Now the full moon had risen, and the world was swimming in silver light. +The statue of Victory hung over the sacred place on spread wings. Many +another great form on its high pillar seemed standing in the deep sky +above the world. The little pool in the pebbly river had stars in the +bottom.</p> + +<p>"This Kladeos is a savage little river in the spring," said Glaucon. "It +tries to tear away our Olympia or drown it or cover it with sand. You +see, men have had to fence it in with stone walls."</p> + +<p>But Charmides was looking at the sacred place and its soft shining +statues in the sky.</p> + +<p>"Let us walk around the wall," he said.</p> + +<p>So they left the river and passed the gymnasium and the gate. Along this +side the wall cast a wide shadow. Here they walked in silence. Here +there were no tents, no torches, no noisy people. Everything was quiet +in the evening air. The far-off sounds of the fair were a gentle hum. A +hundred pictures were floating in Charmides' mind--Phidias, Zeus, Creon +with the strigil, his own little Hermes, the strange people in the fair, +the marble Apollo under the sculptor's tent. In a few moments they +turned a corner and came out into the soft moonlight. A little beyond +gleamed a broad river, the Alphaeus. Charmides and the slave went over +and strolled along its banks. Here they were again in the crowd and +among tents. They saw a group of people and went toward them. A man +sat on a low knoll a little above the crowd. His hair hung about his +shoulders and his long robe lay in glistening folds about his feet. A +lyre rested on his knees, and he was striking the strings softly. The +sweet notes floated high in the moonlit air. At last he lifted his voice +and sang:</p> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<p> When the swan spreadeth out his wings to alight<br> + On the whirling pools of the foaming stream,<br> + He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a note.<br> + When the sweet-voiced minstrel lifteth his lyre<br> + And stretcheth his hand on the singing string,<br> + He sendeth to thee, Apollo, a prayer.<br> + Even so do I now, a worshiping bard,<br> + With my heart lifted up to begin my lay,<br> + Cry aloud to Apollo, the lord of song.</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + + +<p>Then he sang of that lordliest of all minstrels, Orpheus--how the trees +swung circling about to his music; how the savage beasts lay down at his +feet to listen; how the rocks rose up at his bidding and followed him, +dancing, to build a town without hands; how he went to the dismal land +of the dead to seek his wife and with his clear lyre and sweet voice +drew tears from the iron heart of the king of hell and won back his +loved Eurydice and lost her again the same hour.</p> + +<p>The boy, sitting there in the moonlight, went floating away on the song +until he felt himself straying through that fair garden of the dead with +singing lyre or riding with Artemis through the sky in her moon chariot.</p> + +<p>When the song was ended, Glaucon said, "Come, little master, you have +fallen asleep. Let us go home."</p> + +<p>And Charmides rose and went, still clutching his image of Hermes in his +hand and still holding the song fast in his heart.</p> + +<p>In the morning the whole great camp was awake and moving long before +daylight. Every man and boy was in his fairest clothes. On every head +was a fresh fillet. Every hand bore some beautiful gift for the gods--a +vase, a plate of gold, an embroidered robe, a basket of silver. All were +pouring to the open gate in the sacred wall. Here a procession formed. +Young men led cattle with gilded horns and swinging garlands, or sheep +with clean, combed wool. Stately priests in long chitons paced to the +music of flutes. The judges glowed in their purple robes. Then walked +the athletes, their eyes burning with excitement. And last came all the +visitors with gift-laden hands. The slaves and foreigners crowded at +the gate to see the procession pass, for on this first holy day only +freedmen and Greeks of pure blood might visit the sacred shrines. When +Charmides passed through, his heart leaped. Here was no empty field with +a few altars. He had never seen a greater crowd in the busy market place +at home in Athens. But here the people were even more beautiful than +the Athenians. Their limbs were round and perfect. They stood always +gracefully. Their garments hung in delicate folds, for they were people +made by great artists--people of marble and of bronze. All the gods of +Olympos were there, and athletes of years gone by, wrestling, running, +hurling the disc. There were bronze chariots with horses of bronze to +draw them and men of bronze to hold the reins. There were heroes of Troy +still fighting. And here and there were little altars of marble or +stone or earth or ashes with an ancient, holy statue. At every one the +procession halted. The priests poured a libation and chanted a prayer. +The people sang a hymn. Many left gifts piled about the altar. Before +Hermes Charmides left his little clay image of the god. And while +the priests prayed aloud, the boy sent up a whispered prayer for his +brother.</p> + +<p>Once the procession came before a low, narrow temple. It was of +sun-dried bricks coated with plaster. Its columns were all different +from one another. Some were slender, others thick; some fluted, others +plain; and all were brightly painted. Charmides smiled up at his father.</p> + +<p>"It is not so beautiful as the Parthenon," he said.</p> + +<p>"No," his father answered, "but it is very old and very holy. Every +generation of man has put a new column here. That is why they are not +alike. This is the ancient temple of Hera."</p> + +<p>Then they entered the door. Down the long aisle they walked between +small open rooms on either side. Here stood statues gazing out--some of +marble, some of gold and ivory. The priests had moved to the front and +stood praying before the ancient statues of Zeus and Hera. But suddenly +Charmides stopped and would go no farther. For here, in a little room +all alone, stood his Hermes with the baby Dionysus. The boy cried out +softly with joy and crept toward the lovely thing. He gently touched the +golden sandal. He gazed into the kind blue eyes and smiled. The marble +was delicately tinted and glowed like warm skin. A frail wreath of +golden leaves lay on the curling hair. Charmides looked up at the tiny +baby and laughed at its coaxing arms.</p> + +<p>"Are you smiling at him?" he whispered to Hermes. "Or are you dreaming +of Olympos? Are you carrying him to the nymphs on Mount Nysa?" And then +more softly still he said, "Do not forget Creon, blessed god."</p> + +<p>When his father came back he found him still gazing into the quiet face +and smiling tenderly with love of the beautiful thing. As Menon led him +away, he waved a loving farewell to the god.</p> + +<p>The most wonderful time was after the sacrifice to Zeus before the great +temple with its deep porches and its marble watchers in the gable. +The altar was a huge pile of ashes. For hundreds of years Greeks had +sacrificed here. The holy ashes had piled up and piled up until they +stood as a hill more than twenty feet high. The people waited around the +foot of it, watching. The priests walked up its side. Men led up the +sleek cattle to be slain for the feast of the gods. And on the very top +a fire leaped toward heaven. Far up in the sky Charmides could half +see the beautiful gods leaning down and smiling upon their worshiping +people.</p> + +<p>Then he turned and walked with the crowd under the temple porch and into +the great, dim room. He trembled and grasped his father's hand in awe. +For there in the soft light towered great Zeus. In embroidered robes of +dull gold he sat high on his golden throne. His hands held his scepter +and his messenger eagle. His great yellow curls almost touched the +ceiling. He bent his divine face down, and his deep eyes glowed upon his +people. Sweet smoke was curling upward, and the room rang with a hymn.</p> + +<p>As Charmides gazed into the solemn face, a strange light quivered about +it, and the boy's heart shook with awe. The words of Homer sprank to his +lips:</p> + +<p>"Zeus bowed his head. The divine hair streamed back from the kindly +brows, and great Olympos quaked."</p> + +<p>After the sacrifices were over there was time to wander again among the +statues and to sit on the benches under the cool porches and watch the +moving crowd and the glittering sun on the gold ornaments of the temple +peaks. Then there was time to see again the strange sights of the fair +in the plain. The next morning was noisier and gayer than anything +Charmides had ever known. While it was still twilight his father hurried +him down the hill and through the gates, on through the sacred enclosure +to another gate. And all about them was a hurrying, noisy crowd. They +stumbled up some steps and began to wait. As the light grew, Charmides +saw all about him men and boys, sitting or standing, and all gaily +talking. Below the crowd he saw a long, narrow stretch of ground. He +clapped his hands. That was the ground Creon's feet would run upon! Up +and down both sides of the track went long tiers of stone seats. They +were packed with people who were there to see Creon win. The seats +curved around one narrow end of the course. But across the other end +stood a wall with a gate. Menon pointed to a large white board hanging +on the wall and said, "See! The list of athletes."</p> + +<p>Here were written names, and among them, "Creon, son of the Olympic +winner Menon." Charmides' eyes glowed with pride.</p> + +<p>Every eye was watching the gate. Soon the purple-clad judges entered. +Some of them walked the whole length of the stadion and took their seats +opposite the goal posts. Two or three waited at the starting line. There +was a blast of a trumpet. Then a herald cried something about games +for boys and about only Greeks of pure blood and about the blessing of +Hermes of the race course.</p> + +<p>Immediately there entered a crowd of boys, while the spectators sent +up a rousing cheer. The lads gathered to cast lots for places. At last +eight of them stepped out and stood at the starting line. Creon was not +among them. A post with a little fluttering flag was between every two. +The boys threw off their clothes and stood ready. One of the judges said +to them:</p> + +<p>"The eyes of the world are upon you. Your cities love an Olympic winner. +From Olympos the gods look down upon you. For the glory of your cities, +for the joy of your fathers, for your own good name, I exhort you to do +your best."</p> + +<p>Then he gave the signal and the runners shot forward. Down the long +course they went with twinkling legs. The spectators cheered, called +their names, waved their chlamyses and himations. Their friends cried +to the gods to help. Down they ran, two far ahead, others stringing out +behind. Every runner's eyes were on the marble goal post with its little +statue of Victory. In a moment it was over, and Leotichides had first +laid hand upon the post and was winner of the first heat.</p> + +<p>Immediately eight other boys took their places at the starting line. +Charmides snatched his father's hand and held it tight, for Creon was +one of them. Another signal and they were off, with Creon leading by +a pace or two. So it was all the way, and he gave a glad shout as he +touched the goal post.</p> + +<p>Charmides heard men all about him say:</p> + +<p>"A beautiful run!"</p> + +<p>"How easily he steps!"</p> + +<p>"We shall see him do something in the last heat."</p> + +<p>"Who is he?"</p> + +<p>And when the herald announced the name of the winner, the benches buzzed +with,</p> + +<p>"Creon, Creon, son of Menon the Athenian."</p> + +<p>Four more groups were called and ran. Then the six winners stepped up +to the line. This time the goal was the altar at the farther end of the +stadion. A wave of excitement ran around the seats. Everybody leaned +forward. The signal! Leotichides sprang a long pace ahead. Next came +Creon, loping evenly. One boy stumbled and fell behind. The other three +were running almost side by side. Menon was muttering between his teeth:</p> + +<p>"Hermes, be his aid! Great Zeus look upon him! Herakles give him wind!"</p> + +<p>Now they were near the goal, and Leotichides was still leading by a +stride. Then Creon threw back his head and stretched out his legs and +with ten great leaps he had touched the altar a good pace ahead. He had +won the race.</p> + +<p>The crowd went wild with shouting. Menon leaped over men's heads and +went running down the course calling for his son. But the guards caught +him and forced him back upon the seats. Charmides sat down and wept for +joy. And nobody saw him, for everybody was cheering and watching the +victor.</p> + +<p>One of the judges stepped out and gave a torch to Creon. The boy touched +the flame to the pile on the altar. As the fire sprang up, he stretched +his hands to the sky and cried,</p> + +<p>"O blessed Hermes, Creon will not forget thy help."</p> + +<p>As he turned away the judge gave him a palm in sign of victory. The boy +walked back down the course with the palm waving over his shoulder. His +body was glistening, his cheeks were flushed, his eyes were burning +with joy. He was looking up at the crowd, hoping to see his father and +brother. And at every step men reached out a hand to him or called +to him, until at last Menon's own loving arms pulled him up upon the +benches. Then there was such a noise that no one heard any one else, but +everybody knew that everybody was happy. Men pushed their heads over +other men's shoulders, and boys peeped between their fathers' legs to +see the Olympic winner. And in that circle of faces Menon stood with +his arms about Creon, laughing and crying. And Charmides clung to his +brother's hand. But at last Creon whispered to his father:</p> + +<p>"I must go and make ready. I am entered for the pentathlon, also."</p> + +<p>Menon cried out in wonder.</p> + +<p>"I kept that news for a surprise," laughed Creon. "Good-by, little one," +he said to Charmides, and pushed through the crowd.</p> + +<p>Menon sat down trembling. If his boy should win in the pentathlon also! +That would be too great glory. It could not happen. He began to mutter a +hundred prayers. Another race was called--the double race, twice around +the course. But Menon did not stand to see it. He could think of nothing +but his glorious son. After the race was another great shout. Some other +boy was carrying a palm. Some other father was proud. Then followed +wrestling, bout after bout, and cheering from the crowd. But Menon cared +little for it all.</p> + +<p>It was now near noon. The sun shone down scorchingly. A wind whirled +dust up from the race course into people's faces.</p> + +<p>"My throat needs wetting," cried a man.</p> + +<p>He pulled off a little vase of wine that hung from his girdle and passed +it to Menon, saying:</p> + +<p>"I should be proud if the father of the victor would drink from my +bottle."</p> + +<p>And Menon took it, smiling proudly. Then he himself opened a little +cloth bag and drew out figs and nuts.</p> + +<p>"Here is something to munch, lad," he said to Charmides.</p> + +<p>Other people, also, were eating and drinking. They walked about to visit +their friends or sat down to rest. Menon's neighbor sank upon his seat +with a sigh.</p> + +<p>"This is the first time I have sat down since sunrise," he laughed.</p> + +<p>Then the pentathlon was announced. Everyone leaped to his feet again. A +group of boys stood ready behind a line. One of the judges was softening +the ground with a pick. An umpire made a speech to the lads. Then, at a +word, a boy took up the lead jumping weights. He swung his hands back +and forth, swaying his graceful body with them. Then a backward jerk! He +threw his weights behind him and leaped. The judges quickly measured +and called the distance. Then another boy leaped, and another, and +another--twenty or more. Last Creon took the weights and toed the line.</p> + +<p>"Creon! Creon!" shouted the crowd: "The victor! Creon again!"</p> + +<p>He swung and swayed and then sailed through the air.</p> + +<p>"By Herakles!" shouted a man near Charmides. "He alights like a +sea-gull."</p> + +<p>There went up a great roar from the benches even before the judges +called the distance. For any one could see that he had passed the +farthest mark. The first of the five games was over and Creon had won +it.</p> + +<p>Now the judges brought a discus. A boy took it and stepped behind the +line. He fitted the lead plate into the crook of his hand. He swung it +back and forth, bending his knees and turning his body. Then it flew +into the air and down the course. Where it stopped rolling an umpire +marked and called the distance.</p> + +<p>"I like this game best of all," said a man behind Charmides. "The whole +body is in it. Every movement is graceful. See the curve of the back, +the beautiful bend of the legs, the muscles working over the chest! The +body moves to and fro as if to music."</p> + +<p>One after another the boys took their turn. But when Creon threw, +Charmides cried out in sorrow, and Menon groaned. His disc fell short of +the mark. He was third.</p> + +<p>"It was gracefully done," Charmides heard some one say, "but his arms +are not so good as his legs. See the arms and chest of that Timon. No +one can throw against him."</p> + +<p>After that a judge set up a shield in the middle of the course. Every +boy snatched a spear from a pile on the ground and threw at the central +boss of the shield. Again Creon was beaten. Phormio of Corinth, son of a +famous warrior, won.</p> + +<p>Then they paired off for wrestling. Creon and Eudorus of Aegina were +together. Each boy poured oil into his hand from a little vase and +rubbed the body of his antagonist to limber his muscles. Then he took +fine sand from a box and dusted it over his skin for the oiled body +might slip out of his arms in the wrestling match. Then, at a signal, +the pairs of wrestlers faced each other.</p> + +<p>Creon held his hands out ready, bent his knees, thrust forward his head, +and stood waiting. Eudorus leaped to and fro around him trying to get a +hold. At last he rushed at him. Creon caught him around the waist and +hurled him to the ground. Charmides laughed and shouted and clapped +his hands. That was one throw. There must be three. Eudorus was up +immediately and was circling around and around again. Suddenly Creon +leaped low and caught him by the leg and threw him. He had won two bouts +out of three and stood victor without a throw.</p> + +<p>Soon all the pairs had finished. The eight victors stood forth and cast +lots for new partners. Again they wrestled. This time, also, Creon won. +Then these four winners paired off and wrestled, and at the end Creon +and Timon were left to try it together.</p> + +<p>In the first bout the Spartan boy lifted Creon off the ground and threw +him, back down. Then the men on the benches began shouting advice.</p> + +<p>"Look out for his arms!"</p> + +<p>"Don't let him grapple you!"</p> + +<p>"Feint, feint!"</p> + +<p>Creon leaped to his feet. He began circling around Timon as Eudorus had +circled around him. He dodged out from under Timon's arms. He wriggled +from between his hands. The benches rang with cheers and laughs.</p> + +<p>"He is an eel," cried one man.</p> + +<p>Suddenly Creon ducked under Timon's arms, caught him by his legs and +tripped him. The two boys were even.</p> + +<p>In the next bout Timon ran at Creon like a wild bull. He caught him +around the waist in his strong arms to whirl him to the ground. But with +a crook of his leg Creon tripped him and wriggled out of his arms before +he fell.</p> + +<p>Menon caught up Charmides and threw him to his shoulder laughing and +stamping his feet.</p> + +<p>"Do you see, lad?" he cried. "He has won two games. Only the race is +left, and we know how he can run."</p> + +<p>And how he did run! He threw back his head and leaped out like a deer, +skimming over the ground in long strides and leaving his dust to the +others. He had the three games out of five and was winner of the +pentathlon.</p> + +<p>Then there was no holding the crowd. They poured down off the seats and +ran to Creon. Some lifted him upon their shoulders and carried him out +of the stadion, for this was the end of the games for that day. And +those who could not come near Creon and his waving palms crowded around +Menon. So they went, shouting, out of the gate and among the statues and +on to the river. There they put Creon down, and his father and Charmides +led him away to camp.</p> + +<p>That was the happiest night of Charmides' life. He heard his wonderful +brother talk for hours of the life in the gymnasium. He heard new tales +of Creon's favorite god, Hermes. He heard of the women's games that were +held once a year at Olympia in honor of Hera. He heard a hundred new +names of boys and cities, for there had been, athletes from every corner +of Greece in training here. He held the victor's palms in his own hands. +He slept beside this double winner of Olympic crowns. He dreamed that +Apollo and Hermes came hand in hand and gazed down at him and Creon as +they lay sleeping and dropped a great garland over them both. It was +twined of Olympic olive leaves and Apollo's own laurel.</p> + +<p>On the next day there were games for the men, like those the boys had +played. On the day after that there were chariot races in a wide place +outside the walls. Every night there was still the gay noise of the +fair. But instead of going to see it, Charmides stretched himself under +the trees on Mount Kronion and gazed up at the moon and dreamed.</p> + +<p>Then came the last day, with its great procession again and its +sacrifices at every altar. The proud victors walked with their palm +leaves in their hands. In the temple of Zeus, under the eyes of the +glowing god, the priests put the precious olive crowns upon the winners' +heads. They were made from sacred olive leaves. They were cut with a +golden sickle from the very tree that godlike Herakles had brought out +of the far north. That wreath it was which should be more dear than a +chest of gold to Creon's family and Creon's city. That was the crown +which poets should sing about. When the priest set the crown upon +Creon's head, Charmides thought he felt a god's hands upon his own brow. +Menon leaned upon a friend's shoulder and burst into tears.</p> + +<p>"I could die happy now," he said. "I have done enough for Athens in +giving her such a glorious son."</p> + +<p>As the three walked back to camp, Menon said:</p> + +<p>"Who shall write your chorus of triumph, Creon? Already my messengers +have reached Athens, and the dancers are chosen who shall lead you home. +But the song is not yet made. It must be a glorious one!"</p> + +<p>Then Charmides blushingly whispered,</p> + +<p>"May I sing you something, father? Apollo helped me to make it."</p> + +<p>His father smiled down in surprise. "So that is why you have been lying +so quiet under the trees these moonlit nights!" he said.</p> + +<p>Charmides ran ahead and was sitting thrumming a lyre when his father +and Creon came up. He struck a long, ringing chord and raised his clear +voice in a dancing song:</p> + +<center> +<table summary=""> +<tr><td> + +<p> When Creon, son of Menon, bore off the Olympic olive,<br> + Mount Kronion shook with shouting of Hellas' hosts assembled.<br> + They praised his manly beauty, his grace and strength of body.<br> + They praised his eyes' alertness, the smoothness of his muscles.<br> + They blessed his happy father and wished themselves his brothers.<br> + Sweet rang the glorious praises in ears of Creon's lovers.<br> + But I, when upward gazing, beheld a sight more wondrous.<br> + The gates of high Olympos were open wide and clanging,<br> + Deserted ev'ry palace, the golden city empty.<br> + And all the gods were gathered above Olympia's race-course,<br> + They smiled upon my Creon and gifts upon him showered.<br> + From golden Aphrodite dropped half a hundred graces.<br> + Athene made him skillful. Boon Hermes gave him litheness.<br> + Fierce Ares added courage, Queen Hera happy marriage.<br> + Diana's blessed fingers into his soul shed quiet.<br> + Lord Bacchus gave him friendship and graces of the banquet,<br> + Poseidon luck in travel, and Zeus decreed him victor.<br> + Apollo, smiling, watched him and saw his thousand blessings.<br> + "Enough," he said, "for Creon. I'll bless the empty-handed."<br> + He turned to where I trembled, and stepping downward crowned me.<br> + "To thee my gift," he whispered, "to sing thy brother's glory."</p> +</td></tr> +</table> +</center> + + +<p>"Well done, little poet!" cried Menon.</p> + +<p>"A happy man am I. One son is beloved by Hermes, the other by Apollo. +Bring wax tablets, Glaucon, and write down the song. I will prepare a +messenger to hurry with it to Athens."</p> + +<p>So it happened that a lame boy won a crown. And when Creon stepped +ashore at Pirseus, and all Athens stood shouting his name, a chorus of +boys came dancing toward him singing his brother's song. Creon was led +home wearing Zeus' wreath upon his head, and Charmides with Apollo's +crown in his heart. [Illustration: <i>A Coin of Alexander the Great</i>. It +shows Zeus sitting on his throne.]</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="lost"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +HOW A CITY WAS LOST</h2> +</center> +<p>Such was Olympia long ago. Every four years such games took place. Then +the plain was crowded and busy and gay. Year after year new statues were +set up, new gifts were brought, new buildings were made. Olympia was +one of the richest places in the world. Its fame flew to every land. At +every festival new people came to see its beauties. It was the meeting +place of the world.</p> + +<p>But meantime the bad fortune of Greece began. Her cities quarreled and +fought among themselves. A king came down from the north and conquered +her. After that the Romans sailed over from Italy and conquered her +again. Often Roman emperors carried off some of her statues to make Rome +beautiful. Shipload after shipload they took. The new country was filled +with Greek statues. The old one was left almost empty. Later, after +Christ was born, and the Romans and the Greeks had become Christian, the +emperor said,</p> + +<p>"It is not fitting for Christians to hold a festival in honor of a +heathen god." And he stopped the games. He took away the gold and silver +gifts from the treasure houses. He carried away the gold and ivory +statues. Where Phidias' wonderful Zeus went nobody knows. Perhaps the +gold was melted to make money. Olympia sat lonely and deserted by her +river banks. Summer winds whirled dust under her porches. Rabbits made +burrows in Zeus' altar. Doors rusted off their hinges. Foxes made their +dens in Hera's temple. Men came now and then to melt up a bronze statue +for swords or to haul away the stones of her temples for building. +The Alpheios kept eating away its banks and cutting under statues and +monuments. Many a beautiful thing crumbled and fell into the river and +was rolled on down to the sea. Men sometimes found a bronze helmet or a +marble head in the bed of the stream.</p> + +<p>After a long time people came and lived among the ruins. On an old +temple floor they built a little church. Men lived in the temple of +Zeus, and women spun and gossiped where the golden statue had sat. In +the temple of Hera people set up a wine press. Did they know that the +little marble baby in the statue near them was the god of the vineyard +and had taught men to make wine? Out of broken statues and columns and +temple stones they built a wall around the little town to keep out their +enemies. Sometimes when they found a bronze warrior or a marble god they +must have made strange stories about it, for they had half forgotten +those wonderful old Greeks. But the marble statues they put into a kiln +to make lime to plaster their houses. The bronze ones they melted up for +tools. Sometimes they found a piece of gold. They thought themselves +lucky then and melted it over into money.</p> + +<p>But an earthquake shook down the buildings and toppled over the statues. +The columns and walls of the grand old temple of Zeus fell in a heap. +The marble statues in its pediments dropped to the ground and broke. +Victory fell from her high pillar and shattered into a hundred pieces. +The roof of Hera's temple fell in, and Hermes stood uncovered to the +sky. Old Kronion rocked and sent a landslide down over the treasure +houses. Kladeos rushed out of his course and poured sand over the sacred +place.</p> + +<p>That earthquake frightened the people away, and they left Olympia alone +again. Hermes was still there, but he looked out upon ruins. Victory lay +in a heap of fragments. Apollo was there, but broken and buried in earth +with the other people of the pediments. Zeus and all the hundreds of +heroes and athletes were gone. So it was for a while. Then a new race of +people came and built another little town upon the earth-covered ruins. +They little guessed what lay below their poor houses. But for some +reason this town, also, died and left the ruins alone. Then dusty winds +and flooding rivers began to cover up what was left. Kladeos piled up +sand fifteen feet deep. Alpheios swung out of its banks and washed away +the race-course for chariots. Under the rains and floods the sun-dried +bricks of Hera's walls melted again into clay and covered the floor. +Again the earth quaked, and Hermes fell forward on his face, and little +was left of the beautiful old Olympia. Grass and flowers crept in from +the sides. Seeds blew in and shrubs and trees took the place of columns. +Soon the flowers and the animals had Olympia to themselves. A few gray +stones thrust up through the soil. So it was for hundreds of years. +Greece was conquered by the men of Venice and then by the Turks. But +Olympia, in its far corner, was forgotten and untouched except when a +Turkish officer or farmer went there to dig a few stones out of the +ground. And they knew nothing of the ancient gods and the ancient +festival and the old story of the place, for they were foreigners and +new people.</p> + +<p>But about a hundred years ago Englishmen and Germans and Frenchmen began +to visit Greece. They went to see, not her new Turkish houses or her +Venetian castles or the strange dress of her new people, but her old +ruins and the signs of her old glory. These men had read of Olympia in +ancient Greek books and they knew what statues and buildings had once +stood there. They wrote back to their friends things like this:</p> + +<p>"I saw a piece of a huge column lying on top of the ground. It was seven +feet across. It must have belonged to the temple of Zeus."</p> + +<p>"To-day I saw a long, low place in the ground where I think must have +been the stadion in ancient days."</p> + +<p>At last, about thirty years ago, Ernst Curtius and several other Germans +went there. They were men who had studied Greek history and Greek art +and they planned to excavate Olympia.</p> + +<p>"We will uncover the sacred enclosure again. Men shall see again the +ancient temples and altars, the stadion, the statues."</p> + +<p>Germany had given them money for the work, and at last Greece allowed +them to begin. In October they started their digging. Workmen up-rooted +shrubs and dug away dirt. Excavators watched every spadeful. They were +always measuring, making maps, taking notes. They found a few vases, +terra cotta figures, pieces of bronze statues, swords and armor. They +cleared off temple floors and were able to make out the plans of the old +buildings. They found the empty pedestals of many statues. Yet they were +disappointed. Olympia had been a beautiful place, a rich place. They +were finding only the hints of these things. The beauty was gone. Of the +three thousand statues that had been there should they not find one?</p> + +<p>Then they uncovered the fallen statues of the pediments of Zeus' temple. +Thirty or more there were--Apollo, Zeus, heroes, women, centaurs, +horses. Arms were gone, heads were broken, legs were lost. The +excavators fitted together all the pieces and set the mended statues up +side by side as they had been in the gable. They found, too, the carved +marble slabs that showed the labors of Herakles. But even these were not +the lovely things that people had hoped to see from Olympia. They were +rather stiff and ungraceful. They had not been made by the greatest +artists. In the temple of Hera one day men were digging in clay. Over +all the rest of Olympia was only sand. The excavators wondered for a +long time why this one spot should have clay. Where could it have come +from? They read their old books over and over. They thought and studied. +At last they said:</p> + +<p>"The walls of the temple must have been made of sun-dried brick. In the +old days they must have been covered with plaster. This and the roof +kept them dry. But the plaster cracked off, and the roof fell in, and +the rain and the floods turned the bricks back to clay again."</p> + +<p>Then one May morning, when the men were digging in the clay, a workman +lifted off his spadeful of dirt, and white marble gleamed out. After +that there was careful work, with all the excavators standing about to +watch. What would it be? They thought over all the statues that the +ancient books said had stood in Hera's temple. Then were slowly +uncovered, a smooth back, a carved shoulder, a curly head. A white +statue of a young man lay face down in the gray clay. The legs were +gone. The right arm was missing. From his left hung carved drapery. On +his left shoulder lay a tiny marble hand.</p> + +<p>"It is the Hermes of Praxiteles," the excavators whispered among +themselves.</p> + +<p>In his day Praxiteles had been almost as famous as Phidias. The old +Greek world had rung with his praises. Modern men had dreamed of what +his statues must have been and had longed to see them. How did he shape +the head? How did his bodies curve? What expression was on his faces? +All these things they had wished to know. But not one of his statues +had ever been found. Now here lay one before the very eyes of these +excavators. They put out their hands and lovingly touched the polished +marble skin. But what would they find when they lifted it?--Perhaps the +nose would be gone, the face flattened by the fall, the ears broken, the +beautiful marble chipped. They almost feared to lift it. But at last +they did so.</p> + +<p>When they saw the face, they were struck dumb by its beauty, and I think +tears sprang into the eyes of some of them. No such perfect piece of +marble had ever been found before. There was not a scratch. The skin +still glowed with the polishing that Praxiteles' own hands had given it. +There was even a hint of color on the lips. The soft clay bed had saved +the falling statue. Here was a statue that the whole world would love. +It would make the name of Olympia famous again. The excavators were +proud and happy. That old ruined temple seemed indeed a sacred place to +them as they gazed upon perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world.</p> + +<p>"Surely we shall find nothing else so perfect," they said.</p> + +<p>Yet they went on with the work. Before long Hermes' right foot was found +imbedded in the clay. Its sandal still shone with the gilding put on two +thousand years before. Workmen were tearing down one of the houses of +the little town that had been built on the ancient ruins. Every stone in +it had some old story. Pieces of fluted columns, carved capitals, broken +pedestals, blocks from the temple of Zeus--all were cemented together to +make these walls. The workmen pulled and chipped and lifted out piece +after piece. The excavators studied each scrap to see whether it was +valuable. And at last they found a baby's body. They carefully broke off +the mortar. It was of creamy marble, beautifully carved. They carried it +to Hermes. It fitted upon the drapery over his arm. On a rubbish heap +outside the temple they had found a little marble head. They put it upon +this baby's shoulders. It was badly broken, but they could see that it +belonged there. So after two thousand years Hermes again smiled into the +eyes of the baby Dionysus.</p> + +<p>Other things were found. The shattered Victory was uncovered. Carefully +the excavators fitted the pieces together. But the wide wings could +never be made again, and the head was ruined. Even so, the statue is a +beautiful thing, with its thin drapery flying in the wind.</p> + +<p>After five years the work was finished. Now again hundreds of visitors +journey to Olympia every year. They see no gleaming roofs and +high-lifted statues and joyful games. They walk among sad ruins. But +they can tread the gymnasium floor where Creon and many another victor +wrestled. They can enter the gate of the grass-grown stadion. They can +see the fallen columns of the temple of Zeus. In the museum they can see +the statues of its pediments and, at the end of the long hall, they +see Victory stepping toward them. They can wander on the banks of the +Kladeos and the Alpheios. They can climb Mount Kronion and see the whole +little plain and imagine it gay with tents and moving people.</p> + +<p>All these things are interesting to those who like the old Greek life. +But most people make the long journey only to see Hermes. In the museum, +in a little room all alone, he stands, always calm and lovable, always +dreaming of something beautiful, always half smiling at the coaxing +baby.</p> + +<br><br> +<a name="PICTURES_OF_OLYMPIA"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<h2> +PICTURES OF OLYMPIA</h2> +</center> +<br><br> + +<a name="28"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>ENTRANCE TO STADION.</h3> +<p>This was not the gate where Charmides entered. This entrance was +reserved for the judges, the competitors, and the heralds. Inside there +were seats for forty-five thousand people. On one side the hill made a +natural slope for seats. But on the other sides a ridge of earth had to +be built up. The track was about two hundred yards long. Only the two +ends have been excavated. The rest still lies deep under the sand.</p> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="28.jpg (142K)" src="28.jpg" height="587" width="799"> +</center> +<br><br> +<br><br> + + + +<a name="29"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>GYMNASIUM.</h3> +<p>Here Creon and the other boys spent a month in training before the +games. The gymnasium had a covered portico as long as the track in the +stadion, where the boys could run in bad weather. A Greek boy of to-day +is playing on his shepherd's pipes in the foreground, and they are the +same kind of pipes on which the old Greeks played. +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="29.jpg (104K)" src="29.jpg" height="591" width="837"> +</center> +<br><br> +<br><br> + +<br><br> +<a name="118a"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>BOYS IN GYMNASIUM.</h3> + +<p>From a vase painting. They are wrestling, jumping with weights, throwing +the spear, throwing the discus, while their teachers watch them. One man +is saying, "A beautiful boy, truly." +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="118a.jpg (69K)" src="118a.jpg" height="671" width="641"> +</center> +<br><br> +<br><br> + + +<a name="30"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>THE TEMPLE OF ZEUS.</h3> + +<p>When we see a picture of fallen broken columns lying about a field +in disorder, we try to learn how the original building looked and to +imagine it in all its beauty. This, men believe, is the way the Temple +of Zeus looked. The figures in the pediment were all of Parian marble. +In the center stands Zeus himself. A chariot race is about to be run, +and the contestants stand on either side of Zeus. Zeus gave the victory +to Pelops, and Pelops became husband of Hippodameia, and king of Pisa, +and founded the Olympic Games. These games were held every fourth year +for more than a thousand years.</p> +<blockquote> +<p> Note: This and the following plates of the Labors of Herakles and the + statue of Victory, were photographed from Curtius and Adler's + "Olympia: Die Ergebnisse der von dem Deutschen Reich Veranstalteten + Ausgrabung," etc. This is one of the most beautiful books ever made + for a buried city. </p> +</blockquote> +<p>Boys and girls who can reach the Metropolitan Museum Library should not +miss it. It is in many volumes, each almost as large as the top of the +table, and you do not need to read German to appreciate the plates.</p> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="30.jpg (92K)" src="30.jpg" height="616" width="880"> +</center> +<br><br> +<br><br> + + +<a name="31"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>THE LABORS OF HERAKLES.</h3> +<p>Under the porches of the Temple of Zeus were twelve pictures in marble, +six at each end, showing the Labors of Herakles. Herakles was highly +honored at Olympia and, according to one tale, he, instead of Pelops, +was the founder of the Olympic Games.</p> + + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="31a.jpg (68K)" src="31a.jpg" height="638" width="600"> +<br> +<p>[Herakles and the Nemean lion.--<i>Metropolitan Museum</i>]</p> +</center> + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="31b.jpg (87K)" src="31b.jpg" height="631" width="601"> +<br> +<p>[Herakles and the hydra.--<i>Metropolitan Museum</i>] +</center> + + + +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="32.jpg (160K)" src="32.jpg" height="1264" width="597"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<center> +<img alt="33.jpg (124K)" src="33.jpg" height="1269" width="626"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + + +<center> +<img alt="34.jpg (139K)" src="34.jpg" height="1240" width="607"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + + +<center> +<img alt="35.jpg (157K)" src="35.jpg" height="1237" width="597"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + + +<center> +<img alt="36.jpg (167K)" src="36.jpg" height="1257" width="609"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<br><br> + + +<a name="37"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>THE STATUE OF VICTORY.</h3> +<p>In the sand, not far from the Temple of Zeus, the explorers found the +fragments of this statue. It shows the goddess flying down from heaven +to bring victory to the men of Messene and Naupaktos. So the victors +must have erected this statue at Olympia in gratitude.</p> + +<p>Something like the picture used as the frontispiece, men believe the +statue looked originally. It stood upon a base thirty feet high so that +the goddess really looked as if she were descending from heaven. +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="37.jpg (140K)" src="37.jpg" height="1374" width="710"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<br><br> +<a name="39"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>THE TEMPLE OF HERA.</h3> +<p>This shows the ruins of the temple where Charmides saw the statue of +Hermes, perhaps the most beautiful statue in the world. +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="39.jpg (119K)" src="39.jpg" height="556" width="880"> +</center> +<br><br> + +<a name="38"></a> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="38.jpg (84K)" src="38.jpg" height="1001" width="665"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<br><br> +<a name="40"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>HEAD OF AN ATHLETE.</h3> +<p>The Greek artist who made this statue believed that a beautiful body is +glorious, as well as a beautiful mind, and a fine spirit. Do you +think his statue shows all these things? The original is now at the +Metropolitan Museum. +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="40.jpg (54K)" src="40.jpg" height="617" width="378"> +</center> +<br><br> + + +<br><br> +<a name="41"></a> +<br><br> +<h3>A GREEK HORSEMAN.</h3> +<p>The artist had great skill who could chisel out of marble such a strong, +bold rider, and such a spirited horse.</p> +<blockquote> +<p> This picture and the one before it are not pictures of things found at + Olympia. They are two of the most beautiful statues of Greek athletes, and we + give them to remind you of the sort of people who came to the games at + Olympia.</p> +</blockquote> +<br><br> +<center> +<img alt="41.jpg (137K)" src="41.jpg" height="863" width="675"> +</center> +<br><br> + + + +<br><hr><br> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Buried Cities, Volume 2, by Jennie Hall + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK BURIED CITIES, VOLUME 2 *** + +This file should be named 8bct210h.htm or 8bct210h.zip +Corrected EDITIONS of our eBooks get a new NUMBER, 8bct211h.htm +VERSIONS based on separate sources get new LETTER, 8bct210ah.htm + +Produced by Juliet Sutherland, David Widger and PG Distributed Proofreaders + +Project Gutenberg eBooks are often created from several printed +editions, all of which are confirmed as Public Domain in the US +unless a copyright notice is included. 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