This article was written by Inka Piegsa-Quischotte
On my thirteenth birthday my parents bequeathed unto me a leather-bound and richly illustrated book, The Collection of Greek Sagas. Since that time in my childhood, I have been fascinated by the story of Helen and the Trojan War, dreaming of escaping to the historical site of Troy, located in Turkey by the sea. Imagine, a woman with a face so beautiful, that 'she launched a thousand ships,' when she was abducted by Paris and taken to Troy.
Was this legend or was it truth? Did the mighty city of Troy really exist, so impenetrable in fact, that the final defeat could only be achieved by Odysseus' ruse of the wooden horse?
Well over one hundred years earlier, someone else had posed the same questions: Heinrich Schliemann. His interest in Troy was equally triggered by a book: Ludwig Jerrer's Illustrated History of the World and a copy of Homer's Iliad, an epic poem which describes in many details the final year of the Trojan War.
In the nineteenth century, Troy and all the stories surrounding it, were considered legends with no historical facts to support them. Schliemann, however, was convinced that Troy existed and, in his own biography claims that at age eight he had already vowed to one day discover and excavate Troy. This is probably an exaggeration, but it clearly indicates what is so fascinating about Schliemann: his unwavering conviction and relentless determination to fulfill his dream, which he did in 1868. It was then that he finally set foot on the alleged site and immediately started digging.
Like Schliemann's, my imagination was captured by the image of the powerful and rich King Priam, perched on the walls of his city, looking out over the Dardanelles and watching the black fleet approach, thinking no doubt: By Zeus, here comes trouble. But, today an approach by sea is no longer possible. The Dardanelles have receded since ancient times and, like Ephesus, Troy, the modern day Turkish town of Hissarlik, is landlocked and can only be reached by road.
No matter, Schliemann was of course confronted by the same geological situation. One hundred and forty years after his arrival, I was finally able to see the place where all my Greek heroes (Achilles, Hector and Odysseus) had so fiercely battled and fought - all triggered because of a beautiful woman. I wanted to see, if I could bring them to life in my imagination, just as Heinrich Schliemann's dream had been to prove to the world that Homer's Troy was based on facts. To truly understand the man's determination, one needs to know a bit about his background.
German born Heinrich Schliemann was by no means an archaeologist or formally educated historian. He was an autodidact, who pursued his interest in Greek history and mythology in private, whilst embarking on a glittering career as a businessman. As a merchant, banker and trader, he amassed one fortune after another in a variety of countries, among them Germany, the Netherlands, Russia and the United States. Never losing sight of his goal and well aware that enterprises like the one he had in mind were extremely expensive, Schliemann, practically overnight, decided that he was rich enough to fulfill his archaeological ambitions. He sold his businesses, divorced his Russian wife, married a Greek one and set off.
My Turkish friend Mehmet, a professor of history, and I drove over two hundred miles from Istanbul to Hissarlik, the ancient Troy in Northwest Anatolia close to the Aegean Sea. Instead of a guide book, I had one of Schliemann's own reports of his adventures on my lap and quoted:
In excavating this wall and directly by the side of the palace of King Priam, I came upon a large copper article of the most remarkable form, which attracted my attention all the more as I thought I saw gold behind it. In order to withdraw the treasure from the greed of my workmen and to give it to archaeology, I had lunch break called. While the men were eating and resting, I cut out the treasure with a large knife.
"Can you imagine," I exclaimed, "the excitement of happening upon a heap of gold artifacts and then digging them out with a knife?"
"Well," Mehmet, always the scientist, replied, "Schliemann was first and foremost a thrill seeker and treasure hunter and his methods of handling the entire excavation have been the cause of much criticism."
This is true. The idea of tackling irreplaceable ancient treasures with a knife would send a shudder down any modern archaeologist's spine. But on the other hand he has been historicized as the man who discovered Troy and Priam's treasure, part of which I had seen in the Istanbul Archaeology Museum. In fact, the treasure landed Schliemann in hot water with the Turkish government. He smuggled it out of the country and later traded part of it back - to be allowed to continue with his excavations.
Meanwhile, we had arrived at our destination.
"Don't expect too much," Mehmet warned, "you may be disappointed. Troy is nothing as grandiose as Ephesus."
"Ah," I replied, "but that's not the point. I want to relive Schliemann's excitement at finally having arrived at the goal of his dreams and to follow the footsteps of my ancient heroes."
Mehmet's credentials allowed us to explore the site on our own and not to have to join a guided tour. The first sight that greeted me was THE HORSE. It is a wooden replica of the famous Trojan horse, devised by the cunning Odysseus to get the Greek warriors inside the walls of Troy after all attacks had failed. The Greeks pretended to surrender, withdrew their ships and left the horse, filled with soldiers outside the wall. The Trojans' curiosity superseded caution as they pulled the horse inside, and at night, the heavily armed soldiers climbed out and wreaked havoc. This incident, by the way is also the origin of the saying: Don't trust a Greek bearing gifts.
I buried my head in my hands after watching tourists climb the horse. Mehmet, not very subtly, murmured: "Told you so." At least, Heinrich Schliemann had been spared the sight of the monster. On the other hand, it's quite a Disney-esque attempt at re-creating history, so I should have an open mind. I guess.
"Let's go find the Schliemann trench," I urged.
Schliemann's trench is the place where he commenced his excavation. I could imagine him, standing on top of the grassy hill, clad in the formal attire of his day and possibly poking his walking stick into the ground, hoping to get a glimpse of Priam's treasure. Schliemann believed that Homer's Troy was to be found in the earlier layers. He took over from Calvert, another British hobby archaeologist, who had already started digging on the site and actually owned the eastern part of the land. The western part was owned by the Turkish government. Fired up by his enthusiasm and backed by his considerable wealth, Schliemann made the timid and reserved Calvert an offer he couldn't refuse, assembled an army of local workmen, and went to work.
Touching the walls of the trench, I could suddenly feel some of the energy and eagerness that must have driven him on. Troy consists of several cities, one built on top of the other after the previous city had been destroyed by either fire or earthquakes. Schliemann has been criticized for demolishing much evidence and valuable buildings and structures of later periods in his zest to get at Homer's Troy. In fact, he and Calvert had a falling out over his unprofessional methods. The trench however is also the place where he happened upon Priam's treasure as described in his report.
Despite the somewhat dry tone of his writing, I could actually hear the 'ohhh' and see the bare hand, wielding the knife and scooping up gold artifact after gold artifact, dropping them into a shawl carried by his wife who stood by his side and carting the treasure away from the eyes of his workers. There is a picture of Sophia Schliemann wearing part of the gold jewelry discovered and some say looted, by her husband.
It was getting rather hot and we sat down in the shade of a tree right by Schliemann's trench. Involuntarily, I scooped up some earth and let it run through my fingers.
"What?" Mehmet laughed, "Do you think Heinrich might have missed a little golden something for you to find?"
I shrugged. Highly unlikely, but then again, you never know.
Did Helen actually wear some of these trinkets? Did Schliemann see her image when he adorned his beautiful wife with Prima's treasure and proudly published her picture for all the world to see? Many unanswered questions remain, among them what ultimately became of Helen.
Our visit drew to a close. I had come to breathe the spirit of ancient history, to step on the ground of heroes of the past, to touch the walls of a mighty city which could only be destroyed by deceit, to dream about Helen. Heinrich Schliemann had come to prove that his lifelong conviction of the truth of Homer's tales was justified. No criticism of his methods can diminish his achievement.
When we reached the gates to leave, I glanced over my shoulder at the horse. With the sinking sun behind it, a young, blond girl was looking out of the window posing for a picture taken by her black-haired friend below.
Helen and Paris?
I turned, smiling to myself and I swear, at the last moment, the horse winked at me.
**Please note: The photo of the Trojan horse was taken by Deror Avi at the Istanbul Museum of Archaeology .
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