Buried Cities, vol 3, Mycenae | Page 2

In this way
the hill was like an ordinary hill, but all around the edge of it ran the
broken ring of a great wall. In some places it stood thirty feet above the
earth. Here and there it was twenty feet thick. It was built of huge
stones. At one place a tower stood up. In another two stone lions stood
on guard. It was these ruined walls that interested the people on the hill.
One of the men was a Greek. A red fez was on his head. He wore an
embroidered jacket and loose white sleeves. A stiff kilted skirt hung to
his knees. He was pointing about at the wall and talking in Greek to a
lady and gentleman. They were visitors, come to see these ruins of
Mycenae.
"Once, long, long ago," he was saying, "a great city was inside these
walls. Giants built the walls. See the huge stones. Only giants could lift
them. It was a city of giants. See their great ovens."
He pointed down the hill at a doorway in the earth. "You cannot see
well from here. I will take you down. We can look in. A great dome,
built of stone, is buried in the earth. A passage leads into it, but it is
filled with dirt. We can look down through the broken top. The room
inside is bigger than my whole house. There giants used to bake their
bread. Once a wicked Turk came here. He was afraid of nothing. He
said, 'The giants' treasure lies in this oven. I will have it.' So he sent
men down. But they found only broken pieces of carved marble--no
gold."
While the guide talked, the gentleman was tramping about the walls.
He peered into all the dark corners. He thrust a stick into every hole. He
rubbed the stones with his hands. At last he turned to his guide.
"You are right," he said. "There was once a great city inside these walls.
Houses were crowded together on this hill where we stand. Men and
women walked the streets of a city that is buried under our feet, but
they were not giants. They were beautiful women and handsome men.
"It was a famous old city, this Mycenae. Poets sang songs about her. I
have read those old songs. They tell of Agamemnon, its king, and his
war against Troy. They call him the king of men. They tell of his

gold-decked palace and his rich treasures and the thick walls of his city.
"But Agamemnon died, and weak kings sat in his palace. The warriors
of Mycenae grew few, and after hundreds of years, when the city was
old and weak, her enemies conquered her. They broke her walls, they
threw down her houses, they drove out her people. Mycenae became a
mass of empty ruins. For two thousand years the dry winds of summer
blew dust over her palace floors. The rains of winter and spring washed
down mud from her acropolis into her streets and houses. Winged seeds
flew into the cracks of her walls and into the corners of her ruined
buildings. There they sprouted and grew, and at last flowers and grass
covered the ruins. Now only these broken walls remain. You feed your
sheep in the city of Agamemnon. Down there on the hillside farmers
have planted grain above ancient palaces. But I will uncover this
wonderful city. You shall see! You shall see how your ancestors lived.
"Oh! for years I have longed to see this place. When I was a little boy
in Germany my father told me the old stories of Troy, and he told me of
how great cities were buried. My heart burned to see them. Then, one
night, I heard a man recite some of the lines of Homer. I loved the
beautiful Greek words. I made him say them over and over. I wept
because I was not a Greek. I said to myself, 'I will see Greece! I will
study Greek. I will work hard. I will make a bankful of money. Then I
will go to Greece. I will uncover Troy-city and see Priam's palace. I
will uncover Mycenae and see Agamemnon's grave.' I have come. I
have uncovered Troy. Now I am here. I will come again and bring
workmen with me. You shall see wonders." He walked excitedly
around and around the ruins. He told stories of the old city. He asked
his wife to recite the old tales of Homer. She half sang the beautiful
Greek words. Her husband's eyes grew wet as he listened.
This man's name was Dr. Henry Schliemann. He kept his word. He
went away but he came again in a few years. He hired men and
horse-carts.