Buried Cities, vol 3, Mycenae | Page 5

knee.
Near one man lay a golden crown and a sceptre, and a sword belt of
gold. There was a heap of stone arrowheads, and a pile of twenty
bronze swords and daggers. One had a picture of a lion hunt inlaid in
gold. The wooden handles of the swords and daggers were rotted away,
but the gold nails that had fastened them lay there, and the gold dust
that had gilded them. Near the warriors' hands were drinking cups of
heavy gold. There were seal rings with carved stones. There was the
silver mask of an ox head with golden horns, and the golden mask of a
lion's head. And scattered over everything were buttons, and ribbons,
and leaves, and flowers of gold.
Schliemann gazed at the swords with burning eyes.
"The heroes of Troy have used these swords," he said to his wife,
"Perhaps Achilles himself has handled them." He looked long at the
golden masks of kingly faces.
"I believe that one of these masks covered the face of Agamemnon. I
believe I am kneeling at the side of the king of men," he said in a

hushed voice.
Why were all these things there? Thousands of years before, when their
king had died, the people had grieved.
"He is going to the land of the dead," they had thought. "It is a dull
place. We will send gifts with him to cheer his heart. He must have
lions to hunt and swords to kill them. He must have cattle to eat. He
must have his golden cup for wine."
So they had put these things into the grave, thinking that the king could
take them with him. They even had put in food, for Schliemann found
oyster shells buried there. And they had thought that a king, even in the
land of the dead, must have servants to work for him. So they had
sacrificed slaves, and had sent them with their lord. Schliemann found
their bones above the grave. And besides the silver mask of the ox head
they had sent real cattle. After the king had been laid in his grave, they
had killed oxen before the altar. Part they had burned in the sacred fire
for the dead king, and part the people had eaten for the funeral feast.
These bones and ashes, too, Schliemann found. For a long, long time
the people had not forgotten their dead chiefs. Every year they had
sacrificed oxen to them. They had set up gravestones for them, and
after a while they had heaped great mounds over their graves.
That was a wonderful old world at Mycenae. The king's palace sat on a
hill. It was not one building, but many--a great hall where the warriors
ate, the women's large room where they worked, two houses of many
bedrooms, treasure vaults, a bath, storehouses. Narrow passages led
from room to room. Flat roofs of thatch and clay covered all. And there
were open courts with porches about the sides. The floors of the court
were of tinted concrete. Sometimes they were inlaid with colored
stones. The walls of the great hall had a painted frieze running about
them. And around the whole palace went a thick stone wall.
One such old palace has been uncovered at Tiryns near Mycenae.
To-day a visitor can walk there through the house of an ancient king.
The watchman is not there, so the stranger goes through the strong old
gateway. He stands in the courtyard, where the young men used to play
games. He steps on the very floor they trod. He sees the stone bases of
columns about him. The wooden pillars have rotted away, but he
imagines them holding a porch roof, and he sees the men resting in the
shade. He walks into the great room where the warriors feasted. He

sees the hearth in the middle and imagines the fire blazing there. He
looks into the bathroom with its sloping stone floor and its holes to
drain off the water. He imagines Greek maidens coming to the door
with vases of water on their heads. He walks through the long, winding
passages and into room after room. "The children of those old days
must have had trouble finding their way about in this big palace," he
thinks.
Such was the palace of the king. Below it lay many poorer houses,
inside the walls and out. We can imagine men and women walking
about this city. We raise the warriors from their graves. They carry
their golden cups in their hands. Their rings glisten on their fingers, and
their bracelets on their arms. Perhaps, instead of the golden armor, they
wear breastplates of bronze of the same shape, but these same swords
hang at their sides. We look at