Editor’s note: The Oct. 30, 2007, announcement that
the University Art Museum would be returning ancient art objects
to the Italian government that had been taken illegally from the
country brought to mind another Italian artifact – an 1,800-year-old
marble goat head – with Italian and Princeton connections.
The goat’s head attracted widespread news coverage a half-century
ago; below are excerpts from PAW’s coverage.
A Goat Goes Home to Rome (PAW, May 15, 1953)
ON THE COVER: As close readers of the metropolitan press will
know, this week’s cover photograph is not merely decorative
but newsworthy. The story is told on the opposite page. Suffice
it to say here, the goat is an outstanding work by an unknown Roman
sculptor of the second century A.D. and was, until his recent departure
for Rome, one of the most popular possessions of the Princeton Art
Museum. Measuring 11 inches from the tip of his beard to the top
of his head, the “goat” is probably a fragment of a
life-sized statue. (Photo by Reuben Goldberg)
An 1,800-year-old goat is being restored to its rightful owner.
Ernest T. DeWald [*1914], director of the Princeton Museum, has
presented the modest treasure to Dr. Elio Giuffrida, Italian vice-consul
in Newark, for return to the Museo dei Conservatori on Rome’s
Capitoline Hill. Princeton had been in possession of stolen goods.
Last fall, four years after the goat had been obtained by the
Princeton Museum in the open art market, Dr. DeWald’s assistant,
Miss Frances Jones, discovered that the head belonged in Rome –
though the Romans did not know it. Like most Italian works of art,
the goat had been placed in storage at the outbreak of World War
II and its subsequent disappearance had not yet been discovered.
Ironically enough, the head was purchased for the Princeton Museum
by Professor DeWald, who was decorated by the Italian Government
as well as by the American and British governments for his World
War II services in safeguarding Italy’s art treasures and
then returning them to their rightful owners.
News in Brief (PAW, Jan. 29, 1954)
ON THE COVER: Baron de Ferrariis Salzano (left), Italian Consul
General in New York, affectionately pats the 1,800-year-old goat’s
head which he returned to Princeton last week in a gesture of international
friendship. Looking distressed at the moment of parting is the Marchese
Uguccione Ranieri di Sorbello, cultural attaché to the Italian
Embassy. A description of the ceremony and a review of the goat’s
extraordinary odyssey will be found on this page. (Photograph by
Howard Schrader)
“I do not dare to tell you,” said the Consul General
of Italy, “that Billy can act as an ambassador of the ‘Grandeur
that was Rome.’ … But Billy does return to Princeton
as a gift from my Government and from the City of Rome with a message
of gratitude … for what the Americans, under the leadership
of a man from Princeton, did even in the stress of battle to preserve
the works of art of our common heritage.”
With these words, Baron de Ferrariis Salzano presented to President
Dodds the head of a goat, carved in marble. Witnessed by some four-score
dignitaries and friends of the Art Museum, the presentation ended
an unusually appealing saga of international culture and friendship.
As close readers of the WEEKLY know, the story starts in 1948
in an antique shop in Rome. There, Professor Ernest T. DeWald [*1914,]
director of the Princeton Art Museum, discovered the goat and purchased
this fragment of what was once a life-sized statue. Dr. DeWald –
“the man from Princeton” of whom the Consul General
spoke – had been director of the Monuments, Fine Arts, and
Archives Subcommission of the Allied Commission in Italy and had
been decorated by three governments for his work in safeguarding
Italy’s art treasures and restoring them to their rightful
owners.
For three years Billy the Goat resided in the Princeton Art Museum,
where it won many friends and admirers. Then, in the course of preparing
an article on this acquisition, Miss Frances Jones, assistant to
the director of the museum, discovered in the catalogue of the Museo
dei Conservatori in Rome a photograph and description of an identical
goat’s head. When the director of the Museo dei Conservatori
was advised, he confessed that their goat’s head was missing,
but that its disappearance from a storage vault had not been noticed
until Professor DeWald reported its presence at Princeton. It is
thought that a construction worker made off with the art treasure
during the period when the museum was reinforcing its building against
Allied bombs.
Last year, the Italian vice-consul called at Princeton to pick
up the goat (PAW May 15, 1953). Billy, however, got no further than
New York. After an exchange of correspondence with their representatives
in the United States, the Italian Government and the City of Rome,
to whom the goat belonged, decided to present it to Princeton as
a gesture of friendship and an expression of gratitude for Professor
DeWald’s wartime service in Italy.
“This ancient beast,” said the consul general as he
returned the goat, “was once a symbol of joy and of the pagan
relish for life. Witness the fact that one finds the goat mixed
up in all woodland stories of nymphs and satyrs of ancient mythology.
Looking at the doleful expression of our present Billy, one could
almost guess that he is burdened with an unutterable sadness at
the thought that all that is past. What is not passed, however,
is the link which even a simple goat’s head represents with
the great days of Rome — a time and a culture from which,
in spite of all the intervening centuries, so much of our present
civilization derives.
“The hands that carved Billy have long since returned to
dust. Little did the unknown sculptor know that his sweet, sad,
and wise little goat would one day travel over the unknown Ocean
Sea and find friends and admirers on shores so distant from his
native city.”