Schliemann 1- 30   Schliemann 30-60   Schliemann 60-90   Schliemann 90-120   Schliemann 120-150  Schliemann 150-180   Schliemann 180 – 210   Schliemann 210 – 240   Schliemann 240 – 270  Schliemann 270 – End

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From the moment of arrival, Schliemann was in high spirits, vigorously directing activities at the parsonage. He was courteous to the casual visitors, and enthusiastic in his reception to those who had for so long enriched his memories. One of these was Neiderhoffer, from whom the young Heinrich had heard his first words of Greek, a thrill that had vividly remained with Schliemann from a time of teen-age trial to his adult triumphs.

In the nearly five decades from that evening until the visit at Ankershagen, Schliemann had sporadically written to Niederhoffer, and knew that he was reformed through a happy marriage. At a brief meeting of the two men during a trip to Germany, Schliemann discovered that Niederhoffer has “forgotten neither his Homer nor his Virgil, and still declaims them with the same warm enthusiasm as he did forty-three years ago in the shop at Furstenberg.” In the parlor of the parsonage at Ankershagen, it must have been Schliemann’s recitation of Homer that thrilled Niederhoffer, the septuagenarian. He may have been overcome by Schliemann’s erudition, because by 1883 Heinrich was using almost exclusively his own form of Homeric Greek. It was a complex adaptation and intrepretation that, when spoken, was hard for purists to understand.

Sophia went back to Marathon with work crews and dug into the Mound of the Dead. Although they uncovered no bones or skeletal remains of any kind, the story of the mass burial persisted. Sophia’s work at Marathon was her last major and active participation at a dig with Heinrich. It was important for the family that she be attentive mother. Agamemnon, at six, was an energetic and extremely bright little boy who needed maternal supervision. Andromache, at thirteen, was involved with her studies at school and the parties and diversions enjoyed by Athenian girls of her social group. Sophia remained in Athens with her children. During school holidays she traveled with them, often to European watering places where she took cures for her recurring abdominal upsets.

The pattern of their life did not please either of the Schliemanns, who had no choice but to adjust to it. They kept in constant touch through detailed letters about their respective activities. Heinrich spent sporadic periods at Iliou Melathron, and Sophia made infrequent visits to his excavations. She went with him to survey the ancient site at Crete, returned to Troy, and inspected the digs Tiryns. Schliemann and Dorpfeld began their excavations at Tiryns on March 17, 1884, and soon after uncovered a portion of a magnificent mosaiclike floor of crushed limestone and colored pebbles that paved the entire high plateau of the Acropolis. The debris yielded various kinds of objects. One of the many animal-shaped items was a dog standing on a disk of clay. A piece of clay in the form of an ear with a pierced lobe was so large and so obviously masculine that Schliemann wondered if men of that ancient civilization might not have worn earrings.

A number of objects found at Tiryns had a relationship or distinct similarity to others already unearthed at Troy and Mycenae. But a wheel-shaped disk from the Tiryns debris was unique: it had jagged edges pointing counterclockwise with one off-center hole. Similar objects were later excavated at other sites, and proved to be similar to the ex votos found at Troy and Mycenae. Wall paintings, some depicting acrobats leaping over the backs of bulls, lined the passageway through rough-hewn rocks at Tiryns ; the same motifs were subsequently excavated at Crete.

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Other wall decorations at Tiryns resembled some from Troy and Orchomenus, and still others could be linked to Mycenae. Painted idols and vases were decorated like many found in Asia Minor and on the Boeotian Plain. Painstakingly, Schliemann and Dorpfeld amassed evidence of exchange and relationship between ancient Mycenaean cities; and Dorpfeld proved a close connection by comparing the plans of the city of Tiryns, its individual houses and their rooms, with maps and plans of other Mycenaean sites.

Members of the press corps that trailed Schliemann, bored with the slow progress at Tiryns and by the meticulous comparative studies, one by one left the Argolid. The New York Times cor respondent wrote : “Schliemann’s luck has run out. He has found no more gold, nor things of any value.” That reporter was just as wrong as other journalists who popularized Schliemann’s gold finds, while minimizing his contributions that far outshone the glittering treasure. The newspaper reporters who forsook Schliemann at Tiryns missed the big story: The ground plan of the palace at Tiryns was found almost intact, and its long central hall, the vestibule, and large circular hearth were exactly the same as those uncovered in the great palaces at Troy and Mycenae. It was well established by the time Schliemann and Dorpfeld excavated at Tiryns that such a building was not a temple, as Schliemann had first thought, but the palace of the king. The discovery of the third identical palace established Schliemann as the guide to the Mycenaean civilization, a prehistoric period that in many ways was more powerful than the better known and less ancient classical age. As participant with Dorpfeld in resurrecting the past at Tiryns, Schliemann was “bothered constantly and heightened emotionally each hour of every day. The bit-bumps on my entire body give evidence of my soul’s reaction to our work here.” A new Schliemann continued to emerge from the written page. He had seldom previously used the term our work, except occasionally to include Sophia; but increasingly from Troy in 1882, he included not only Dorpfeld but also others to whom he gave credit, admitting that he could not have accomplished certain objectives without their “physical assistance, mental agility and incisive scientific approach to our work at Troy and Tiryns/ Early in his book on Tiryns, Schliemann expressed his regrets

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that for the first time in more than twenty years, he was starting an excavation without the assistance of Nicholas Saphiros Yan nakis, faithful friend, comptroller of the household and cashier at the digs. In the summer of 1883 Yan nakis and his family broke a wild horse that was so fractious it snapped its rope three days in a row and was caught only after strenuous chases. Finally the horse let Yannakis mount him; and after the horse had been quiet for two days, Yan nakis, with his son Hector behind him, rode across the Plain of Troy. At a crossing of the Scamander River, a wind-blown tree limb whipped across the horse’s face, and he reared, throwing father and son into the river. Neither could swim, but the son, light in weight, managed to hold onto the reins and pull himself to the bank. Yannakis, wearing the pantaloons of his native Tsamak Kale, sank in the deep water and drowned. When peasants pulled his lifeless body to shore, his pants were ballooned with water. Sophia sent for Yannakis’ family, and his wife remained in Athens with the Schliemanns for years after.

Schliemann did not, as previously, rush into print with the results of the excavations at Tiryns, but waited until Dorpfeld had completed his detailed architectural studies. In Tiryns, published in 1885, Schliemann highly praised Dorpfeld, who contributed chapters on architecture to the book. Restless again after the work at Tiryns was completed, Schliemann went to Crete with Dorpfeld, tramping near Knossos where partial ruins of an ancient palace were exposed. Having visited the site several times over a period of years, Schliemann was thoroughly convinced that the ruins were of the palace of the famous King Minos whose island empire had once controlled the seas and the Greek mainland.

Certain that the excavator at Knossos would uncover another center of Mycenaean civilization, Schliemann negotiated with a peasant who owned the land. They reached an agreement on a price that included 2,500 olive trees in the man’s grove; Schliemann, somehow suspicious, counted the trees that numbered only 889. Unfortunately, his business sense for once overruled hisarchaeological judgment, and he left Crete. Sir Arthur Evans later acquired the land and, like Schliemann, using his own for tune for excavation, uncovered the palace that did link Knossos with the prehistoric cities of the mainland.

After Schliemann gave up his plans for excavation at Crete, he turned his attention to Egypt, making two trips to that country one by himself in 1887, another with Virchow in 1888. Schliemann visited Flinders Petrie, the famed British archaeologist who helped reveal the life, history and art of ancient Egypt. Sailing in regal luxury along the Nile, Schliemann viewed the famous sites then known, and wrote to Sophia that he wished he might remain long enough to see the total emergence of the giant Sphinx “which raises itself from the sands.”

On the 1888 trip with Virchow, Schliemann told his old friend in strictest confidence about a bizarre pilgrimage that began when Schliemann committed the Koran to memory in one month. He had long been curious about the Muslim religion and the ceremony of purification, and decided to experience a pilgrimage to Mecca. In Arabia, he was secretly circumcised, a precaution taken in case he was suspected of being an infidel and made to strip. After circumcision, he went to a secluded spot where he bathed nude three times a day, firm in his conviction that sea water possessed all curative minerals ; his phallic surgery healed in five days.

His face was already bronzed by wind and sun, but he lay naked under the Arabian sun to darken his body and balding head. When he decided that he could deceive the faithful and the priests of Mohammed, Schliemann donned the white robe of a penitent and proceeded to Mecca.

Sun poured down on the bazaar as throngs of natives and pilgrims mingled outside Mohammed’s holy mosque Haram. As a simple, unpretentious suppliant, Schliemann passed unnoticed in the stream of people. Nothing in his appearance, manner or movement distinguished him from the faithful. Carried along with the crowd, he entered the Kaaba, the holiest of holies, with the black stone of Mohammed in the center. After receiving the supreme blessing for priests, he moved to each of the four comers for silent prayer. Concluding his prayers, he moved back to the black stone and pledged his allegiance to the Muslim faith. While priests again chanted, Schliemann’s eyes darted from side to side, seeing all, missing nothing.

He lingered, stood bade to let others be the first at the Zamsam Well and to be anointed there with its holy water that would cleanse the soul and cure the body. Head bowed, he too bent for his anointing. As the last tones of the Mussulman chant for the

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pilgrims echoed into silence, Schliernann moved out of the mosque and on into the glaring sun of the bazaar. Inconspicuous in the mass of humanity, he disappeared. Schliemann did not write of his exploit, either privately or publicly, for fear of retaliation against him and perhaps against members of his family. That Schliemann could on rare occasions be discreet was evidenced by the fact that he never told how the Trojan collection was spirited out of Turkey, or confirmed the date on which the great treasure was excavated at Hissarlik, or wrote about what Muslims would consider his sacrilegious pilgrimage to Mecca.

(COURTESY: ALEX L. MELAS) ‘ * – : ; ‘ ; – : – ^> :””” ‘^ ‘ / ‘- 11 i : ‘ -, , .- , , , ,; ,-,-, ,. -, -, i ,, . (FREE, UNIVERSITY, WEST BERLIN) Sophia graced the cover of the illustrated Frauen Zeltung of September 1880. In the jail of 1877 Sophia and Andromache lived alone in Paris. Heinrich, visiting museums throughout Europe, frequently forgot to send them money for living expenses. (GERMAN ARCHAEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE, ATHENS) At Orchomenns Sophia and her crew discovered one room in the Treasury of the Minyas on November 23, 1880. Treasury^ ceiling decoration of rosettes and spirals was revealed after Schliemanns had the broken ceiling slabs pieced together. (CHARLES WEBER) Coin commemorating Battle of Marathon was indirectly respond-Ue jor Heinrich exploding Greek legend. He excavated Mound of the Dead in February 1S84 and found no skeletons of the 192 Athenian warriors supposedly buried there. (GENNADIUS LIBRARY, ATHENS) The great arched-vavit passageway at Tiryns was uncovered by Dorpjeld and Schliemann in March 1884. (ILLUSTRATED LONDON NEWS) Exterior of Schlimanns’ Athens home Iliou MMathron. When Greek officials objected to naked statues on roof, Heinrich mocked them by clothing the statues in garish costumes. (GENNAMUS LIBRARY, ATHENS) Floor plan of Iliou Melathron. Ground floor: 1-2. museum; 3-5. servants’ quarters; 6. storage cellar; 7. kitchen; 8. servants’ bath. Middle floor: 9. Great Hall; 10-12. salons; 13. dining room; 14-16. bathrooms. Top floor: 17. Great Hallway; IS. library; 19-20. study; 21. master bedroom; 22-25. bedrooms jor children and guests. (NIKOS KONTOS, ATHENS) A passage from the comic poet Eubuks mis painted on the watt oj Iliou Melathron’s bathroom. It can be translated in the bmdy language loved by the earthy comic playwrights and poets oj Greece, A toned-down translation follows: Next, Thebes I came to, when they dine dl night And day as well, and every house in sight Boasts its own privy to full a man a boon As great as any known beneath the moon; For he that wants to and has far to run Biting his Kpps and groaning’ he’s some /. On staircase landing leading to roof is inscription from Hesiod’s Works and Days : “But they who give straight judgments to strangers and to the men of the land, and go not aside from what is just, their city flourishes, and the people prosper in it: Peace, the nurse of children, is abroad in their land, and all-seeing Zeus never decrees cruel war against them. Neither famine nor disaster ever haunts men who do true justice; but lightheartedly they tend the fields which are all their care! 3 (NIKOS KONTOS & IASON ANTONIADES, ATHENS) Sample of intricate mosaic floors throughout Iliou Melathron, which took Italian artisans more than a year to complete. lAl ‘KM Fftftt : . tots li *fft M W 1E’ ! – OYAI not wr OfA 4TH 4 l. (NIKOS KONTOS & USON ANTONIADES, ATHENS) At D or pf eld’s suggestion, Schliemann invited four men who doubted his discoveries to a conference at Troy. From left: Unknown workman; Professor Niemann, head of Academy of Fine Arts, Vienna; Ernst Boetticher, an especially vehement critic; Schliemann (seated); Dorpfeld; Major Steffen, famous for his maps and plans of Mycenae; 0. Hamby Bey, director of Imperial Museum at Constantinople. Double bronze gates leading to garden were decorated with winged figures and the svastika (left side) and sauvastika (right side), symbols found on Trojan antiquities. (LYNN POOLE) ,”w w *** n* * ** (COURTESY: ALEX L, MELAS) Steffen, in deerstalker cap, discusses excavations with Heinrich. Three of the jour guests at 1889 conference were convinced of the veracity of Schliemann’s finds at HissarKk. Only Ernst Boetticher refused to capitulate. (GERMAN ARCHAEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE, ATHENS) HISSARLIK WIE ES 1ST. Troja ERNST BOETTICHER. (UMARY OF CONGRESS) in Berlin, Boeiticher published Hissarlik Wie Es 1st (title page shown here) attacking Schliemann’s personal honesty and professional integrity. (GERMAN ARCHAEOLOGICAL INSTITUTE, ATHENS) Further digging went on at Troy in 1890, with specid tracks for trundle cars to haul away debris. By mid-May SchRematm, suffering jrom severe ear pains, was forced to leave Troy to see * doctor in Constantinople. (GERMAN ABCHABO&OQCAL IKSTITUTE, ATHENS) View of excavations of Hissarlik looking out across Trojan Plain. In center, standing to right of stm/eying instrument, is Wilhelm Dorpfeld. of ailing Schliemann was taken at Troy in 1890. The always dapper Heinrich sported white helmet, new white vest, and walking stick.

TWENTY NINE

After Heinrich’s travels without Sophia, during 1887 and 1888, he hoped to spend more time at Iliou Melathron, living a quiet family life while writing and studying. The peaceful existence to which he looked forward was not realized because a few detractors continued to harass him and Sophia. A less dynamic and deter mined man and a less devoted and dominant wife would have been crushed by the bitter attacks. Those issued especially from German pedants, and particularly Ernst Boetticher, the former German Army captain, who still contended that Bunarbashi was the site of ancient Troy and accused the Schliemanns of deceit at every excavation.

Boetticher accelerated his headline-seeking attacks on Heinrich’s purpose, methods, interpretations, even on his personal honesty and professional integrity. In one of many vicious pro 1 nouncements, Boetticher accused Schliemann of forging finds by burying objects and then digging them up as new discoveries. That offensive charge so angered Dorpfeld that he suggested to Schliemann that Boetticher be invited to Troy. Dorpfeld reasoned that if Boetticher, as principal guest at a scholarly conference, saw the remains of the Trojan civilization he might “. . . have the decency to admit his errors and withdraw his daily attacks.”

Approving Dorpfeld’s idea, Schliemann reluctantly prepared to leave Athens where he had wanted to stay. He arranged for the conference and paid the expenses of those who were invited: Professor Niemann, head of the Academy of Fine Arts in Vienna ; Major Steffen, famous for his maps and plans of Mycenae; O. Hamby Bey, director of the Imperial Museum at Constantinople ; and Boetticher. After studying the entire excavation at Troy, all were convinced of the veracity and fidelity of Schliemann except Boetticher. He refused to do more than withdraw his imputation of bad faith. Boetticher rushed off to Berlin and renewed his attacks on

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Schliemann, even implying that Curtius, Muller and other reputable scholars had been paid in gold for defending Schliemann. Boetticher made it known he was going to publish a book that would negate everything that Schliemann, Dorpfeld, Virchow, and their colleagues had said they had achieved. The former army captain said that what he saw at Troy convinced him more than ever that Hissarlik had only been an ancient funeral pyre and that, as he had always held, Bunarbashi was the site of Novum Ilium. He made no defense for never having dug there to try to substantiate his conviction.

Before the publication of Boetticher’s book, an article about his libelous attacks on Schliemann was printed in Berlin’s Vossiche Zeitung. The author, Richard Engelmann, proved how Boetticher twisted and deliberately misinterpreted facts to use against Schliemann. Boetticher again and again accused Schliemann of having buried his finds. An amateur archaeologist of no professional standing, Boetticher attracted attention to himself by repeated public condemnations of Schliemann, a man of world renown.

Engelmann stressed the change of Schliemann’s procedure, stabilized by his association with Dorpfeld, and the willingness of Schliemann to admit early mistakes, attributable in part to lack of precise methods of investigation. Pointing out that gratitude was due Schliemann, Engelmann continued: “If it is possible nowadays to give an account of the art which existed during Homer’s time and even before that in Greece, if we can clearly visualize the rooms in which Homer’s heroes lived and acted, to whom do we owe this but Schliemann? . . . Who else dared to devote his entire life and fortune so fully to an ideal? No ooe. Cannot a mortal be allowed mistakes, especially one of high genius so wrapped in an ideal ? The Bible provides the positive answer.”

Schliemann has as faithful adherents: Dorpfeld, Virchow, Mahaffy, Gladstone and Burnouf ; and as converts: Ernst Curtitis of Germany and A. L. Simpson, the British archaeologist. The latter had been one of the few opponents to Schliemann in England. Curtius, in his opposition, had at least been a gentleman. When he wholeheartedly accepted Schliemann’s major theories, he called on Sophia at IHou Melathron, leaving a letter of genuine apology for the absent Heinrich. Simpson made a statement that might have been written by

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any of a number of scholars: “Dr. Schliemann and his faithful wife have without doubt created a new approach to the study of archaeology and have fired students to face facts never before encountered. Never again will the world of archaeology be as it has been. For this the world must always recognize this intrepid pair as the founders of a new science. We may disagree with them in various details, but we cannot in good faith disagree with the principle of what they have so unselfishly presented to future generations.”

Although buoyed by the support of his peers, Schliemann, in 1890, at the age of 68, was increasingly weary and ill. He did zestfully record new finds, and proudly stated that his visitors* book was bulging with names of eminent travelers who passed through Troy to see for themselves what Schliemann had accomplished, and was then doing. But his diary of that spring season contained many pitiful passages in shaky handwriting. He complained of fatigue, heat, and thirst, and expressed a fear of venturing far from the digs that prevented him from going to the Hellespont to swim. On May 5 he wrote: “I am deaf, according to the doctors.” Four times a day he took water through his nose, a treatment that seemed to clear his ears a little. On the advice of a doctor, he also put cotton dipped in sea water into his ears.

In mid-May Schliemann was forced by intolerable pain to go to Constantinople, where a Dr. von Mellinger said there were four loose bones in Schliemann’s left ear, two in his right. The doctor advised immediate surgery, but Schliemann explained that he was too busy at Hissarlik to take the time for an operation. After a second visit to von Mellinger, Schliemann returned to Hissarlik and continued to dig, finding on May 22 a finely carved head that he identified as a portrait of the Roman Emperor Caligula.

Throughout the trying spring Sophia wrote love letters to Heinrich, expressing her concern for him, and frequently suggesting that she travel to Troy with Andro and Memeko. Heinrich answered that he did not want the family there because of the terrible heat and the blowing sand that almost obscured the sun. Sophia could not bear the separation, and arrived at Hissarlik with the children on June 10. Although weak from her usual

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abdominal trouble, she worked with Heinrich at the digs every day. At night, the Schliemanns made plans to return for further explorations later that year. Dorpfeld, who was to stay on at Troy until August, frequently joined Sophia and Heinrich for coffee, and contributed to the future planning. Dorpfeld and Sophia both realized that Schliemann was a sick man, and she diplomatically induced Heinrich himself to suggest a return to Athens. They reached there the end of June.
Heinrich, working feverishly throughout the summer of 1890, supervised the editing of new publications, planned for future excavations, and answered mail carried by a postman who literally staggered under its weight. In October, Schliemann was forced to curtail his activities because of increasing deafness and agonizing pain in both ears.

Reluctantly, he at last agreed to take Virchow’s advke, and prepared to go to the Schwartz Clinic at Halle, Germany, for surgery. Assuring the distraught Sophia that the ear operation would be minor, Heinrich refused to allow her to accompany him. In the days before his departure in November, the dichotomy and prescience of his nature surfaced. He insisted that his cure would be quick and complete. But he made a new will, spent days going over his investments with Dentopoulos, and wrote numerous letters about financial holdings in eleven countries. While packing, he surveyed his extensive wardrobe and wondered aloud to Sophia who would wear the clothes after he was gone. His actions and attitude were not those of a man sanguine about the outcome of medical treatment.
From Halle, Heinrich wrote to Sophia that on November 4 he had been examined by Dr. Wagner, assistant to Professor Schwartz, who was away. On November 12, Schliemann, lying on a rough wooden operating table, inhaled chloroform and went quietly to sleep. When he came to, three hours later, the floating bones in each ear had been removed. Ignoring postoperative pain, Heinrich reread the Arabian Nights in Arabk, and wrote about forthcoming books to his Leipzig publisher, Brockfaaus. Yet Schliemann, because of almost unbearable pain, refused to see Virchow, who had traveled from Berlin to Halle for the specific purpose of seeing Heinrich. Dorpfeld and Virchow called at the hospital on November 19 aad were turned away; Schliemann

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sent word by the nurse that Dorpfeld should go to Leipzig to confer with Brockhaus. When Schliemann’s doctors said he must be hospitalized for at least a month, his temper rose like blood pressure; quieted by strong sedatives, he relaxed, sleeping long and reading little. His waking hours were spent writing long letters to Sophia, sending tender expressions of love for her and their two children, and always raging against his confinement, and the stultifying life in the hospital.
Sophia’s daily letters to him expressed her deepest love, her concern for his welfare, and the constant reiteration of her wish to be with him. That wish he would not grant. In each letter Sophia told of new praise printed about Heinrich, related some amusing anecdote about the children, and reported on plans for his homecoming. She anticipated the time when “… you will be restored to health and enjoy the gaiety of the household during the holidays/’

Virchow and Dorpfeld carried out Schliemann’s request to supervise the printing of an article he had written while at Halle, awaiting the operation. In a letter assuring Heinrich that publication was arranged, Virchow wrote : “Max Mueller writes me that he has returned from a meeting of archaeologists and philologists in London . . . and your joy will soar when I report the great honor paid you. My dear friend, you have done that which you swore to do as a boy in Ankershagen, and today the greater percentage of scholars pay tribute to you.”

By December 10 pain in one of Schliemann’s ears had subsided ; in the other it prodded him with continuous severity. But unable to stand “this hospital which is a jail/’ he left against his doctor’s orders. Free at last, Heinrich went directly to Leipzig to see Brockhaus and two scholarly friends, Kraft and Wachsmuth. After a joyous reunion in Berlin with Virchow, Dorpfeld, and Hans Muller, on winter holiday from Oxford, Schliemann visited his collection at the Museum and sent to Greece for additional objects. Elated by the visits and emotionally stimulated, he later wrote to Virchow, “Long live Pallas Athena!” and assured him that their next journey together should be to the Canary Islands. By letter he made plans with Dorpfeld for new excavations, drawing up lists of equipment needed, and advising about what permits should be secured.

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Schliemann arrived in Paris on a December morning when the temperature was below freezing, the sky ominously gray, and the atmosphere damp. From his hotel, he took a cab directly to Place St. Michel and aimlessly wandered there. Five times he started to enter the house at Number 6, and five times he turned away, writing later to Sophia that he could not stand to go alone into the house “where we began our marriage, endured stormy times and found the bliss of emotional and physical love.” As he had so frequently in the past, he assured Sophia that he would be at home for the Christmas holidays, and reminded her to send invitations to the annual New Year’s Ball at IHou Melathron. In spite of Schliemann’s physical and emotional pain, his internal and external conflict, he attended to business matters, called on friends, and visited museums and libraries, searching for fresh approaches to archaeological problems yet unsolved.

Paris and Parisians were in holiday spirits. No one in the jostling crowds noticed the mustached elderly man, shrunken in his expensive clothes, who swung a walking stick without verve or assurance as, lonely, he ambled from place to place. Atooeand carrying one small valise, Heinrich took his place in a drafty compartment on a train headed for Naples. Tense and tortured, he sat with his greatcoat pulled up around his neck. Stabs of pain from his ear shot through his body, and he did not know whether he shook from cold or pain. With the wheels clicking and clattering below him, he wondered if he had been wrong to refuse Sophia’s pleas to return directly to Athens.
Wrong? How could he have been wrong when in Naples he would see ancient objects he had never studied; would learn facts that might prove of great value in the next excavations. Naples, with its sun and warm air and ebullient atmosphere, beckoned. Things would be better when he reached the South.

But Schliemann was mistaken. Naples was wrapped in the mantle of an unusually gloomy winter. Heinrich stepped from his railroad car, gave orders to porters in flawless Italian and, shivering, walked down the platform to a carriage. After checking into a luxurious but chilly suite at the Grande Hotel, Schliemann went for a walk, confident that the exercise would stimulate his system and relieve his pain. The pain, however, instead of subsiding, increased; and he returned to the hotel and summoned a doctor who, unfortunately for Schliemann, had a great interest

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