Sextus Congenius Verus finally has made it home. Or rather, his grave marker has.
Last week, the FBI’s Art Crime Unit announced that it had sent Verus’ inscribed along with some other objects. marked the latest in an ongoing arrangement between U.S. and Italian authorities to repatriate artifacts taken from the country under questionable circumstances.
In the case of , how it left Italy is a bit of a mystery. Records show that it was originally located in a cemetery in Civitavecchia, a port city north of Rome. At some point, it made it to that town’s museum, which was bombed during World War II. When the museum reopened decades later, Verus’ stone and more than 20 similar ones were missing.
We now know that the stone with Charles Paddock Jr., an American soldier who married an Italian wife while stationed there during the war. The couple’s granddaughter, Erin O’Brien, eventually inherited it and put it in her backyard. But when she moved out, she forgot Verus’ memorial was there.
Danielle Santoro and Aaron Lorenzo bought the house in 2018. Last year, they found the marker under some vines while doing some yard work. They consulted with a Tulane classicist and a UNO archaeologist who helped uncovered the object’s story. That kicked off a lengthy process that culminated last month with the handover to Italian authorities.
All in all, this turns out to be a good story of how returning artifacts should work. It doesn’t always, as repatriation can be controversial, especially when the object is unique.
The most famous example, perhaps, is the Parthenon Marbles, which currently occupy a prominent spot in the British Museum after an English nobleman named Lord Elgin had them taken down from the Athenian landmark in the early 19th century. Elgin claimed to have permission from the Ottoman rulers of Greece, but their presence in London is a sore spot for Greeks, who consider them looted. They desperately want them returned.
The same is true for the Rosetta Stone, uncovered by French soldiers in 1799. The inscription on the stone was key to unlocking hieroglyphs. The stone is also in the British Museum, much to the frustration of Egyptian authorities.
In the case of Verus’ grave marker, his relative obscurity helped smooth the process.
Nothing is known of him apart from what’s in the inscription. That is in no way a comment on his character — he was, after all, a two-decade veteran of the Roman military whose heirs considered him “well deserving” of remembrance. But without a major epic tale or known role in some historical event, interest in his stone is lower.
What also helped is the sensitivity shown by all involved, including those who inherited the stone, those who found it and the scholars who helped track down it origins. That is commendable and refreshing.
Regardless, after its eight-decade holiday in New Orleans, Verus’ stone and Verus the man can be reunited in their homeland.