ATHENS AND THE ACROPOLIS.
The sun was just appearing in the east as we approached the seaport of
the Grecian capital.
Through the mists of the dawning day we could make out dimly, ahead of
us, only bleak bare hills. As the Moltke steamed through the straits we
saw a lighthouse and a few buildings on the shore and over the low hill
on our right the tops of masts; but when the vessel had entered through
a narrow passage between the moles extending from either side, and had
anchored in the centre of the well protected and commodious harbor of
Piraeus, we gazed on a scene of animation and activity. The bay was
filled with shipping and the shore lined with warehouses where the
stevedores were already busily engaged in lading or discharging cargoes.
On each side of the Moltke, little more than a stone's throw away, lay
gray battleships, cruisers, torpedo boats, destroyers, and other naval
craft.
"What war vessels are those?" was the question asked eagerly by many
passengers.
"The white flag with the blue St. Andrew's cross floating over that
warship is the Russian national emblem," patiently replied one of the
officers of our steamer, "and so I conclude that these vessels compose
the Russian Mediterranean squadron."
A band on the flagship began to play and the Russian sailors in clean
white suits were seen forming in lines on the decks of the vessels,
evidently for inspection or morning roll-call. On the rigging above the
sailors' heads, swaying in the breeze, were hundreds of white suits,
washed and hung out to dry.
[Illustration: HUNDREDS OF WHITE SUITS HUNG OUT TO DRY.]
Soon fifty or more large row boats were plying around our steamer in
readiness to convey us to the railroad station at the upper end of the
harbor about a mile away. As we approached the shore in these boats we
saw on the wharf at Piraeus a motley crowd of dirty-handed, bare-footed,
ill-clothed men and boys. It seemed as if all the idle and vagabond
population of the city had assembled to lounge lazily in the sun,
hoping, perhaps, to obtain some small coins from the tourists during
the transfer from boat to cars. If this was their hope they were
disappointed. All arrangements for the welfare of the Moltke tourists
had been carefully made in advance, and, as there was no baggage to be
carried, the services of the dirty-handed men were not required.
"Are these vagabonds and tramps the descendants of the noble Greeks whom
we have honored all our lives?" sadly remarked a minister in our boat.
"Can these be the offspring of the great orators who electrified their
hearers, or of the famous architects and artists whose names are
immortal? Are these swarthy-faced, plain-featured idlers the
representatives of the Greek beauty of form and feature?"
[Illustration: STRENGTH AND SIMPLICITY RATHER THAN BEAUTY.]
In preparation for a visit to these historic shores we had filled our
minds with tales of heroism and visions of the beautiful; now the sight
of this bare-footed throng, so different from the pictures we had formed
in our minds, was a severe shock to our imagination.
"These vagabonds do not represent the Greek race," responded another who
had traveled in that country before; "they are merely the dregs of the
people, a class that may be found in any large city and especially in
the seaports."
The distance from Piraeus to the city of Athens is but five miles. From
the windows of the little cars we could see that the valley through
which we passed was a succession of well cultivated fields, vineyards,
and gardens. A white road, almost parallel to the railroad, traversed
the valley. Gray-green trees in the distance indicated a district of
olive orchards.
At a station on the outskirts of the city we left the train and followed
an old guide to visit the Theseum, or Temple of Theseus, a large edifice
built in simple Doric style. The plain columns and unadorned pediments
express strength and simplicity rather than beauty. Notwithstanding the
fact that twenty-four centuries have passed since its erection, this
temple is noted as being the best preserved of all the ancient buildings
of Greece. A short time, however, sufficed for a view of the plain
exterior and an entrance into the gloomy interior.
[Illustration: I. OVER THE RUINS OF THE ANCIENT CITY.]
[Illustration: II. "THIS IS MARS HILL," SAID THE GUIDE.]
Then proceeding along a fine modern road, built over the ruins of the
ancient city, traces of which were seen in adjacent excavations, we
passed, on our right, an open plateau on the rocks where an audience of
eight or ten thousand might assemble. This was the Pynx of ancient
times, a gathering place of the people. A flight of steps hewn in the
stone at one side of this plateau leads up to a platform cut in the
rock. From this rock, named the Platform of Demosthenes, great orators
addressed the multitude, stirring their countrymen to deeds of valor.
Beyond the Pynx, a cave with gates of rusty grated iron was pointed out
as the prison in which the noble Socrates was incarcerated before being
condemned to drink the fatal hemlock.
[Illustration: ONCE THE MAGNIFICENT MARBLE STAIRCASE.]
Farther up the slope the guide pointed to a small rock elevation on our
left and said: "That is the Areopagus, or Mars Hill, from which the
Apostle Paul made his appeal to the idolatrous Athenians. He probably
ascended those sixteen steps that you see hewn in the rock. Where we are
standing now, the people stood to listen. From that elevation Paul could
view the avenues leading to the Acropolis, avenues adorned with statues
in honor of gods and goddesses and famous heroes."
[Illustration: IN HONOR OF NIKE, THE GODDESS OF VICTORY.]
As we stood there, we could almost hear Paul's words:
"Ye men of Athens, I perceive that in all things ye are too
superstitious. For as I passed by, and beheld the gods that ye worship,
I found an altar with this inscription, 'To the Unknown God.'--God
dwelleth not in temples made with hands.--We ought not to think that
the Godhead is like unto gold, or silver, or stone, graven by art and
man's device." The altar to the unknown god to which Paul referred may
have been one of the many altars within sight of the elevation on which
he stood.
After we left Mars Hill a few minutes' walk brought us to the foot of a
long flight of ruined steps, at the top of which stood broken marble
columns. Before us was the Acropolis, the highest point of the city, a
rocky eminence with inaccessible cliffs on three sides. The only
approach to its summit, which is about two hundred feet above the level
of the modern city, is on the southwest side, being reached by the
avenues we had followed up the gradual slope past Mars Hill.
"On this height," said the guide, "the Athenians, during the reign of
Pericles in the golden age of Greece, erected a temple to their patron
deity, Minerva, the goddess of wisdom. And to this goddess, named also
Athena, who, as they asserted, sprang from the brain of Jupiter a mature
woman in complete armor, they looked for protection. For her they
offered their choicest gifts, yet they did not neglect the multitude of
other gods whom they feared to offend."
The old guide was well informed, but his English was rather difficult to
understand. He was interrupted a number of times until one of the
tourists, a college professor, undertook the task of assisting him in
the story.
"These dilapidated stone steps," said the professor, "formed once the
magnificent marble staircase that led to the gateway of the Acropolis.
The staircase was seventy feet in width; in the centre was a sloping
carriageway up which chariots could be driven. It was built by Pericles
four hundred years before the Christian era. Statues of wonderful
beauty, by famous sculptors, were arranged along the steps. At times of
great rejoicing, as after a victory, triumphal processions ascended
these flights to present offerings to the gods, or to deposit in the
treasury of the temple the spoils taken from their enemies and to offer
sacrifices and worship to their protecting goddess. The Propylaea, or
grand entrance hall and gateway to the Acropolis, stood at the head of
the stairway; these broken columns are all that remain of one of the
most imposing structures of that golden age."
[Illustration: GIGANTIC STATUES OF WOMEN UPHOLD THE CORNICE.]
"Keep close to the professor and never mind the guide," urged one of our
companions. We followed her suggestion.
"This small building on our right with four graceful Ionic columns in
front," continued the professor, "is the Temple of the Wingless Victory,
so called because it was erected by the Athenians in honor of Nike, the
goddess of Victory. The statue of Nike which they placed within the
temple, bore in her hand the palm of victory and upheld the wreath of
laurel, but lacked the customary wings. The Athenians hoped that without
wings victory might never depart from the shores of Greece."
"The building to our left," said the professor as we moved on, "was
named the Erechtheum after the Attic hero Erechtheus, and once contained
a seated figure of the goddess Athena. These six gigantic statues of
women upholding the cornice of the porch are the Caryatides and deserve
a careful examination; for, although carefully prepared casts of the
Caryatides may be seen in some of the large museums, no cast can be a
perfect representation of the original. One of these figures, as you may
easily see, is only a copy, the original having been carried away to
England by Lord Elgin and given to the British Museum. The marble
columns on the other side of the Erechtheum are considered the best
examples in existence of the Ionic style of architecture."
[Illustration: ACROSS THE SUMMIT OF THE ACROPOLIS, TRAMPLING OVER
FRAGMENTS OF DECORATIONS.]
Near the Erechtheum we passed the foundation on which had stood a
colossal bronze figure of Athena, sixty feet in height, holding in her
hand a spear tipped with gold, the point of which could be seen by the
ancient mariners far out at sea. Making our way across the summit of the
Acropolis around pieces of broken columns, trampling over fragments of
decorations, and passing foundations of missing statues, we stood in
front of the Parthenon, the temple which had been erected to the patron
deity of the Athenians. We thought that the professor might weary of
answering questions, but he seemed glad to voice the thoughts that were
arising in his mind.
"In the harmonious proportions of this stately edifice," he said, "the
peerless genius of the architect Ictinus, who designed the structure, is
revealed, and in the delicate finish of the smallest details of the
sculptured work, the wonderful skill of the artists who carried out the
master's design is shown. We hardly know which to admire more, the
matchless genius of the designer, or the marvelous skill of the artists.
Our poet Emerson truly says:
"Earth proudly wears the Parthenon
As the best gem upon her throne."
During a pause for critical examination of the front of the temple, the
amateur photographers of the party placed their cameras in position.
"Place a group of people in the foreground," suggested the professor.
"You see that the marble steps are nearly two feet in height, and
without some object for comparison, these steps in a picture will appear
to be only of ordinary size, thus an adequate idea of the size of the
temple will not be given. When you see any picture of the Parthenon
notice the truth of my suggestion.
"There were, as you see at this end now," continued our instructor,
"eight white marble columns at each end and seventeen columns along each
side. The columns on the sides are mostly broken now or altogether gone,
and the color has changed from white to this soft golden yellow tint.
The carved marble frieze, which, over five hundred feet in length,
extended around the building, was the work of Phidias and has never been
surpassed in beauty by any sculpture of the kind in the world. And these
fluted columns are, in grace and proportion, the noblest examples of the
Doric style of architecture."
"But, in the interior," said the professor, becoming more enthusiastic,
"surrounded by statues and works of art in marble, bronze, ebony, ivory,
and gold, stood the crowning glory of the Parthenon, the famous
colossal statue of the goddess Athena Parthenos, Athena the Virgin,
forty feet in height, made of ivory and gold under the direction of
Phidias. The Caryatides as we looked at them awhile ago appeared
gigantic in size, but they are only eight feet in height. The height of
the statue of Athena was equal to five Caryatides one above the other.
Let me read you the description of the statue by an old Greek historian,
Pausanias."
The professor, drawing a note book from his pocket, read as follows:
"The image itself is made of ivory and gold. Its helmet is surmounted in
the middle by the figure of a sphinx, and on either side of the helmet
are griffins wrought in relief. The image of Athena stands upright, clad
in a garment that reaches to her feet; on her breast is the head of
Medusa wrought in ivory. She holds a Victory about four cubits high in
one hand, and in the other hand a spear. At her feet lies a shield, and
near the spear is a serpent."
"The Victory referred to by Pausanias," said the professor, replacing
his note book, "was an image of the goddess of Victory half the height
of the Caryatides, which we refer to for comparison. The size of the
statue held in Athena's hand helps us to realize the height of the
colossal figure."
"The Parthenon contained also a treasury in which the Athenians
deposited the immense treasures and spoils taken from their enemies. In
the course of centuries, however, the growing wealth and power of Athens
incurred the jealousy and wrath of other nations. The city was conquered
and ravaged many times. The Persians ingloriously failed in their
attempt, but the Romans, victorious under Nero, despoiled this temple
and carried away hundreds of bronze statues and works of art to grace
the Emperor's triumphal entry into Rome. Other Roman conquerors,
following Nero's example, exhibited to the applauding multitudes in the
streets of Rome long trains of spoils, consisting of the rarest
paintings, ornaments, and bronzes torn from the Parthenon. Goths,
Normans, Franks, Venetians, and Vandals successively plundered the city,
stripping away the decorations of gold and silver from columns and
walls, and breaking from their foundations the statues that adorned the
plateau of the Acropolis. The Turks carried off shiploads of marble and
bronzes to Constantinople. England also enriched the British Museum with
many choice marbles from the Acropolis--to preserve them, Lord Elgin
explained."
[Illustration: A SHELL DESCENDED INTO THE PARTHENON, THE PRIDE OF
CENTURIES LAY SHATTERED.]
The professor paused for a moment and his hearers made use of the time
to express some very decided opinions with reference to Lord Elgin.
"But the culminating disaster to the Parthenon occurred in the year
1687," continued the professor, resuming his story with as much sadness
in his voice as if the disaster had been a personal loss. "Greece was
then under the rule of the Sultan, and the Parthenon was used by his
army as a powder magazine. The Venetians at war with the Turks,
besieging Athens, bombarded the city. A shell descended into the
Parthenon, and in a moment's time the most magnificent architectural
structure of ancient times, the pride of centuries, lay shattered in the
ruins we see before us."
"The Parthenon in twenty-four centuries has seen many religious
changes. Built first as a temple of idolatry, it became under the Romans
a Roman Catholic Cathedral, under the Greeks again a Greek Christian
Church, and then under the Sultan's rule a Mohammedan Mosque."
[Illustration: THE PREDOMINATING COLOR OF THE CITY IS YELLOW.]
The professor wished to apologize for detaining us with the length of
his explanations but he was overwhelmed with expressions of appreciation
for his kindness.
[Illustration: THE THEATRE OF BACCHUS HAS TIERS OF STONE SEATS.]
"Why," said one of the tourists, "we have sailed half way around the
world to see these ruins, and yet some of us have so neglected history
and mythology that, we are ashamed to say, our knowledge of the history
of Greece and the stories of its heroes is extremely limited. I am
indeed grateful and trust that you will be patient with our ignorance."
[Illustration: THE FRONT OF THE STAGE CARVED WITH GROTESQUE FIGURES.]
After walking through the small museum on the Acropolis where a number
of interesting relics are on exhibition, we lingered awhile on a little
platform at the northeast corner of the Acropolis from which an
excellent view of the city may be obtained. As seen from this view-point
the predominating color of the city is yellow. The buildings erected of
stone, and plastered or frescoed, are white, or yellow, or light pink,
or combinations of yellow and white, and the roofs appear to be covered
with yellow tiles. Below us to the right we saw the ruined columns of
the Temple of Jupiter, and the white palace and the royal gardens of the
king. Across the valley beyond the city we could see the prominent steep
rock named Lycabettus with the chapel of St. George on the summit, and
ten miles away we could make out dimly Mt. Pentelicus, from which all
the white marble for the temples was quarried, and Mt. Hymettus, in a
region noted for the excellent quality of its honey.
Descending from the heights of the Acropolis we entered the ruins of the
Odeon of Herodus Atticus which lay at the base of the Acropolis. This
theatre had a stone floor, a stone stage, and tiers of stone seats
capable of seating an audience of six thousand, and was covered with a
cedar roof. Now the roof is completely gone and the seats are in partial
ruin. Beyond this smaller theatre are the ruins of a larger one called
the Theatre of Bacchus. Here the masterpieces of Eschylus, Sophocles,
Euripides, and Aristophanes, in the golden days of Grecian glory, gave
delight to great audiences. This theatre, accommodating thirty thousand
spectators, contained a semi-circle of marble seats built up against the
cliff of the Acropolis, and was open to the sky. The large stage was
built of marble and the front of it was carved with grotesque figures.
The lower tiers of seats nearest the stage were marble chairs reserved
for priests and other dignitaries. The names of the men who occupied the
chairs were carved in the marble, and some of these names are yet
visible. While resting for a short time in these official chairs, we
tried to imagine that we were viewing on the marble stage the
performance of an old Greek tragedy by actors in the graceful flowing
robes of those ancient times. A few minutes later we were grouped at the
side of the columns which are all that remain of the glory of the Temple
of Jupiter.
[Illustration: WE DROVE AROUND THE ROYAL GARDENS.]
The professor, responding to our request for information, said: "The
Olympieum was the Temple erected in honor of Zeus, the supreme deity of
the Greeks. As the Roman name for the supreme deity was Jupiter or Jove,
the temple was called the Temple of Zeus by the Greeks, and the Temple
of Jupiter by the Romans. The Athenians began the construction of the
edifice two centuries before the birth of Christ, but the work was
interrupted by wars and lack of funds and remained unfinished for three
hundred years. Then the Roman Emperor Hadrian, having conquered Greece,
completed the work and claimed for himself all the honor and glory for
the erection of the temple. The Temple of Zeus, next to that erected to
Diana by the Ephesians, was the largest of the temples of antiquity. It
was built in the Corinthian style of architecture and had a triple row
of eight columns each at the ends, and a double row of twenty columns
each at the sides. Now you see only these fifteen huge columns
remaining. In the interior of the temple was a colossal statue of
Jupiter overlaid with ivory and gold. Beside the statue of the god stood
a companion figure of equal size representing the Emperor Hadrian. The
grounds around the temple were filled by Hadrian with hundreds of
statues, many of which represented himself."
Carriages which had been ordered by the managers of the excursion
awaited here to take us rapidly to other points of interest. As we
crossed a bridge over a little stream on our way to the Stadium, the
guide said: "This river appears small, perhaps, in your eyes, but it is
great in the history and legends of Greece. It is the river Ilissus."
"The Stadium," said the professor as we entered the structure, "is the
immense athletic field of Athens. It was constructed about the year 350
B.C. Five hundred years later the sixty tiers of seats capable of
seating fifty thousand spectators were covered with white marble.
Centuries afterwards in evil times athletic sports were neglected, the
place fell into disuse, and the marble was converted into lime. In
modern times the Stadium has been restored, perhaps not so large as
before, and again the tiers of seats have been covered with white
marble. In international athletic contests held in the restored Stadium,
Americans have competed successfully for the laurel crown."
[Illustration: THE TIERS OF SEATS HAVE BEEN COVERED WITH WHITE MARBLE.]
Leaving the Stadium, we drove around the Royal Gardens through streets
shaded by graceful pepper trees, caught glimpses of palms, orange, and
ornamental trees within the gardens, and stopped a few minutes in front
of the extensive white marble palace of the king. As we passed through
the residential portion of the city we were impressed with the
cleanliness of the well swept streets and with the purity of the soft
creamy yellow and pink colorings of the buildings. Fortunately we saw no
great manufacturing establishments belching forth volumes of blackening
smoke to soil these delicate shades.
We halted before the University, a majestic building occupying a block
on a wide boulevard, and before the Academy of Science, another large
white marble edifice adjoining the University, a building much more
elaborate than its neighbor, with Ionic porticoes, a facade enlivened by
bright coloring and gilding, and pediments adorned with statues.
[Illustration: GREEK CHILDREN WERE GROUPED AROUND A PUNCH AND JUDY
SHOW.]
"What odd-looking costumes those men wear. They look like ballet girls
arrayed for the stage," said one of the ladies in our carriage, pointing
to a group on the sidewalk. The men wore tights, low shoes with pompons
on the toes, black garters with tassels, blue jackets ornamented with
many brass buttons, red skull caps with large black tassels, and very
full skirts. The guide said that these men were soldiers of the king's
guard and though their uniforms might appear peculiar to our eyes they
did not seem more strange than the tartans of Scotch Highlanders were to
the Greeks. The king's guard, he told us, is composed of men from the
mountain regions of Greece, who dress in the ancient military costume of
that section. The uniforms of the regular Greek soldiers are very
similar to those worn by the soldiers of our own country. The officers
we met were handsome men and especially well uniformed. The well-to-do
and middle class Athenian people whom we saw on the streets were dressed
in modern English style.
[Illustration: BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY, A MAJESTIC BUILDING.]
The National Archaeological Museum has a valuable collection of
antiquities that would require much time for examination. Perhaps the
most interesting to us were the old tombs from Mycenae with their
resurrected contents of skeletons, gold masques, ornaments, and weapons;
the reduced copy of the gold and ivory statue of Athena Parthenos; the
marble figure of a man in stooping position lately found in the sea; the
statue of the god Hermes; and the large and beautiful vases recovered
from the excavations. On the vases scenes of ancient Greek life or
legend were represented.
"It was a pastoral scene of love-making carved on a Grecian vase that
inspired the poet Keats to write his noted poem, 'Ode on a Grecian
Urn,'" said one of our friends. "Let me tell you my favorite stanza,"
and, with an eloquence that brought out their meaning, she repeated the
beautiful lines:
Heard melodies are sweet, but those unheard
Are sweeter; therefore, ye soft pipes, play on;
Not to the sensual ear, but, more endear'd,
Pipe to the spirit ditties of no tone:
Fair youth, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
Thy song, nor ever can those trees be bare;
Bold lover, never, never canst thou kiss,
Though winning near the goal--yet, do not grieve;
She cannot fade, though thou hast not thy bliss,
Forever wilt thou love, and she be fair!
On both days while in Athens we lunched at one of the hotels facing
Constitution Square and ate of the delicious honey from Mt. Hymettus,
returning to the Moltke in the harbor in time to have a late dinner and
to spend the night. In the public park in front of the hotel the trees
were laden with oranges. Beyond the park through the green foliage could
be seen the white palace of the king.
While rambling through the streets we saw a funeral procession. First
came many banners and symbols of the Greek Church, carried by church
officials; then followed the casket borne by men, the casket open and
the pale face of the dead exposed to the gaze of the onlookers; a man
came next carrying the lid of the coffin filled with flowers; then
priests in black robes, men and women in black, and girls in white
holding wreaths and flowers. The people along the way removed their hats
and crossed themselves, muttering prayers as the procession passed by.
The modern religion of Greece is that of the Greek church, a religion of
many ceremonies. The priests, long-haired, heavy-bearded men, wear long
flowing black robes and black hats resembling our silk dress hats turned
upside down with the brim at the top. They, the guide informed us, are
men of influence; their hands are kissed by their people; their advice
is sought, and their opinions received with deference by the members of
their church.
The stores for the sale of candles to be burned on ceremonial occasions
made an interesting display. There were candles of all sizes, ranging
from six feet in height, beautifully decorated, which only the wealthy
could afford, down to the small unadorned dip that the smallest coin
might purchase.
"These candles," said the guide while we were pricing some of the
decorated ones, "are used for the rejoicings at baptisms, at the
festivities on wedding occasions, and for lightening the gloom around
the caskets of the dead. They are given as penance to the church, or as
votive offerings to brighten the altars of the Virgin or patron saints."
Eikons, the sacred memorials which the Greek Christians hang in their
homes, representing the Virgin Mary holding the infant Christ in her
arms, were also for sale in great numbers. Some of these were merely
painted boards or silvered or gilded metal; others were of expensive
material, incrusted with jewels. In all the Eikons, either cheap or
dear, the painted faces and heads of the Virgin and child were visible
through openings in the metal or board.
"At Easter time," said one of the dealers in ecclesiastical wares, "we
sell thousands of candles for the great midnight celebration of the
lighting of the candles. Just as the Easter day is ushered in, the
Patriarch from his platform makes the announcement, 'Christ is risen.'
The people repeat it over and over, the candles are lighted, then raised
and lowered three times in honor of the Trinity, and we return to our
homes to break the three days' fast by a feast of rejoicing."
[Illustration: AND BLUE JACKET ORNAMENTED WITH MANY BRASS BUTTONS.]
When returning from the wharf to the steamer in the evening some of the
tourists were conveyed in a tug and others in row boats. The oarsmen to
save the labor of rowing cast their lines to the tug and the dancing of
the little boats on the waves as they were drawn swiftly down the bay in
the wake of the larger craft caused some anxiety on the part of the more
timid of the occupants.
[Illustration: SOME IN A TUG AND OTHERS IN ROWBOATS.]
On the evening of Tuesday, the twenty-fourth of February, just as the
silver-toned bells on the Russian warships were telling the hour of
five, the anchor of the Moltke was drawn up and the vessel almost
imperceptibly moved around and headed for the narrow outlet between the
breakwaters. As we slowly steamed away from the Russian vessels, our
band played the Russian national hymn and the Russian flag was elevated
to the top of the Moltke's mast in a farewell salutation. Immediately
the crowds of Russian sailors on the warships removed their hats and
remained bareheaded until the music ceased. Then, in response, the
Russian band played our national hymn, and as we sailed away, the
strains of the music became fainter and fainter until they died away in
the distance.
Looking backward after leaving the harbor we saw clearly defined, in the
golden evening light, the towering Acropolis and the Parthenon crowning
its summit, and, as we sailed away from the city which was once the
centre of culture, refinement, and wealth, we tried to recall the
stories of her glorious past. The figures of legend, myth, and
history,--mighty warriors, celebrated heroes, eloquent orators,
illustrious painters, renowned architects, great historians, immortal
poets, and wonderful deities; Spartan mothers, Thermopylae defenders, and
Persian invaders; beautiful Helen, muscular Hercules, crusty Diogenes,
deformed AEsop, silver-tongued Demosthenes, fleet-footed Mercury, drunken
Silenus, stately Juno, and lovely Venus,--a confused procession of
mortals and immortals rushed across the brain.
"Look," said the professor with note book in hand interrupting our
dreams of the past, "that strait to the left behind us is the entrance
to the bay of Salamis where the Persian fleet of one thousand sail
encountered the smaller fleet of only three hundred Grecian vessels in
the year 480 B.C. The rocky brow of the hill on the farther side of the
strait is the place where the haughty Xerxes sat in his silver-footed
chair to gloat over the expected annihilation of Greek power. I want to
read to you, before we go to our evening meal, the vivid description of
the conflict from the tragedy of 'The Persians.' It was written by the
poet Eschylus, who himself was one of the heroes in the fight."