The Original Farnese Hercules

I mentioned in “Farnese Hercules” that Comino copied Glykon’s copy of Hercules at rest. Glykon’s copy, made from Lysippus’s bronze original, now resides at the Museo Archeologico Nazionale in Naples. After exploring the excavated remains of a 1st-century Roman city buried by volcanic eruption, I made a quick jaunt up the coast to see Glykon’s work for myself.

In the early 3rd century, Roman Emperor Septimus Severus began construction on a large bath complex in Rome. After his death, his son and successor Marcus Aurelius Antoninus completed the baths, which took the son’s nickname Caracalla. A great many sculptures decorated the Baths of Caracalla. Up to eight thousand people a day enjoyed the heated water, free for public use, for three centuries.

The Western Roman Empire fell by the end of the 5th century. During a siege of Rome in 537, the Ostrogoths severed the city’s water supply. The baths, far from the city’s still populated area, were abandoned. The bath building was further destroyed in an earthquake 300 years later.

By the 16th century, the former baths had been used as a quarry, vineyards, gardens, and a burial ground. In 1545, Pope Paul III Farnese needed stone for an urban palace he was constructing nearby. He hoped also to recover a few artifacts for his burgeoning collection of ancient art. Excavators recovered so many objects—Glykon’s Hercules among them—the Pope created a museum to house them all.

The Pope’s collection would be handed down to his grandson. Cardinal Alessandro Farnese also collected artwork. In addition to much received through inheritance, he collected other works and was a patron to contemporary artists. What became known as the Farnese Collection now includes statues, paintings, coins and medals, manuscripts and illuminations, and engraved gems.

Most of the collection is found today in Naples: the paintings at the Museo di Capodimonte, the sculptures at the Museo Archeologico Nazionale.

The Farnese Hercules in the gardens at the Château de Sceaux (left) was made from a mold of Glykon’s copy (right) in 2010. It misses a few appendages. Glykon’s reveals the hero in all his glory.

Top-front of the rock upon which the club rests, the signature reads: “Glykon the Athenian made this.”

Continue ReadingThe Original Farnese Hercules

A Road Formerly Known as Roman

“What’s that?”

The archaeologist flung an arm out the car window, pointing. I braked. Tires scraped the gravel in the road that runs from the west Crete village of Rodopos to Menies Valley on Rodopou Peninsula.

“Where?”

She pointed just behind. “Back there.”

I reversed the gear and backed slowly.

“I see three big rocks,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “Let’s go look!”

Her enthusiasm was all the prompting I needed. I pulled the parking brake, and we jumped out. Midday summer sun beat down on the car in the middle of the road as well as on our heads. A north wind cooled the skin and brought the scent of thyme from across the Cretan maquis. A chorus of chirping cicadas thrummed to a steady beat.

We were here to see exposed parts of what I used to call the Roman road on Rodopou. A milestone was unearthed near Rodopos village at the beginning of the 20th century. Dated 129-132 AD, it bares an inscription in Latin. From a translation, we know the ancient road was eleven (Roman) miles long and “built or rebuilt” by the emperor Hadrian, who also receives credit for rebuilding the temple at the end of the road in Menies Valley on the peninsula’s northeast coast.

Straight rows of stonesAfter nineteen hundred years, the ancient road looks like a jumble of rocks. I always look for stones in a straight row that line the edge or middle of the road. In this photo are two such rows.

Yours truly spent a large portion of the previous summer traversing the peninsula, finding bits of the ancient road, discovering its path through the crags of crystalline limestone. Because, as I often say, “You gotta have a hobby.”

When I mention the road, many local archaeologists dismiss the topic. Roman—which is to say, the former empire dating from 69 BC to 380 AD on the island—isn’t old enough. Much richer fields for Roman-era sites lie elsewhere. Archaeologists come to Crete to study Minoan sites, which are from 3000 to 5000 years old.

We began the day from the village square at Rodopos, where the milestone now stands. We drove along the modern road, which was graded gravel, full of holes and washed out gullies. At several points, we stopped the car to walk on flat paving stones in mosaic patterns, bordered by straight rows of edge stones, all laid in centuries—or millennia—past.

Whenever her feet touched ground, the archaeologist, whose name was Jenny, scanned the ground before her. During our walks, she showed me flakes of obsidian (not found naturally on the island, therefore imported) and smooth stones that fit in a cupped palm (tools for grinding grain or sharpening blades) and bits of terra-cotta pottery.

From the shape of a potsherd, Jenny could tell whether it was from a pot’s base or neck. From the curve, she could tell its circumference; from marks on the inside, whether the pot was turned on a wheel or shaped from kneaded clay. From the coarseness, she could tell the era in which it was made.

Now we scrambled up a steep embankment. Jenny, shod in ankle boots, went to the right across a precarious slope. I, in sandals, went to the left, up a gentler slope to come around to the sighted rocks from above. I grabbed the sturdy branch of a lentisk shrub to pull myself up. My eyes passed a rounded shape in the earth, terra-cotta in color. Its perfect curve peeked between gnarly roots.

I hurried over to where Jenny surveyed a straight row of large, gray stones, roughly cubicle. At the row’s end, another stone lay at a right angle to it.

“This wall goes through here,” she said, indicating a mound covered in brush, “and up that hill.”

Another stone, similar to the others, clung to the slope.

“A building of some kind?” I said.

“You see the size of the stones. If a stone is heavier than what two men can carry, it’s probably ancient.”

I didn’t see how enough men could even get around one of those stones to carry it.

“Ancient? You mean Roman?”

“Or earlier. It’s hard to say. If we could find some pottery, we might be able to narrow down the period.”

“I saw something interesting on the way over here.”

Jenny’s eyes lit up, and I started back the way I came.

On the slope beneath the shrub again, I stood on a flat rock at the edge of the precipice. I pulled a camera from my pocket and took a photograph of the object. I hoped I wasn’t taking a picture of a nicely shaped dirt clod in situ. Then I picked it from crumbling dirt. The curve was as long as a hand. Three edges were jagged. The unbroken edge, rounded and smooth. Even an amateur eye could discern the lip of a jar or a vase. I handed it to Jenny.

Examining the potsherd, she pointed with a pinkie. “The coarse, white fragments tell us it’s Minoan. And you’re standing on a threshold stone.”

I looked at my feet. The flat rock was a long rectangle, the top smooth. The middle was indented, worn by years of passage.

Jenny said, “There, more potsherds.”

I followed her eyes just up the slope. The ground was encrusted with them, like fish scales.

As we made our way back down the slope, Jenny pointed out more potsherd-strewn patches. From one such patch, she lifted a small, oblong piece, blunt on one end, capped with a flat piece on the other.

She held it between thumb and forefinger. “This is one foot of a cooking pot.”

I had seen the three-footed pots in museums. They had handles on two sides and a cover.

“People lived here,” she said. “The stone walls we saw could have been a farm house or a villa. Because the ancient road passes so close, it was probably here long before the Romans.”

Now I just call it the Rodopou Road.

Potsherd foundPotsherd found near the ancient road.
“The coarse, white fragments tell us it’s Minoan.”

Continue ReadingA Road Formerly Known as Roman

AVMP in the Library at The Friends of Vauquois

I had a message from Alain Jeannesson, president of Les Amis de Vauquois et de sa région, to whom I sent a copy of A Very Muddy Place. Mr. Jeannesson informs me that the book takes its place in the association’s library and is to be accompanied by a summary in French.

Association of the Friends of Vauquois and its Region. “Mound of Vauquois.” http://butte-vauquois.fr/en/.
The website of the Association of the Friends of Vauquois and its Region has photos and information on visiting the site. The guided tour of the underground galleries, where the mine war took place, is enlightening, educational, and horrific.

—from the bibliography of A Very Muddy Place: War Stories

 

A Very Muddy Place
Buy on Bookshop

All book sales made through Bookshop directly benefit independent bookstores.

Also available at these retailers.

A Very Muddy Place
WAR STORIES

An intimate account of a soldier’s experience in World War I, A Very Muddy Place takes us on a journey from a young man’s rural American hometown onto one of the great battlefields of France. We follow Private B. F. Potts with the 137th US Infantry Regiment through the first days of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. We discover a personal story—touching, emotional, unforgettable.

In 1918, twenty-three-year-old Bennie Potts was drafted into the US Army to fight in the World War. He served with the American Expeditionary Force in France. At home after the war, he married and raised a family, and the war for his children and grandchildren became the anecdotes he told them.

A century later, a great grandson brings together his ancestor’s war stories and the historical record to follow Private Benjamin Franklin Potts from Tennessee to the Great War in France and back home again.

Available in hardcover, paperback, and e-book.

More about A Very Muddy Place

 

Disclosure: This page and linked pages contain affiliate links to Bookshop, Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. As an affiliate of those retailers, Stephen earns a commission when you click through and make a purchase. Thank you for your support.

 

Continue ReadingAVMP in the Library at The Friends of Vauquois

Another Stretch of Road

Slanting afternoon light showed me a field of rocks. Erosion on the crystalline limestone that covers the peninsula makes formations of standing stones, legions of trolls caught in sunshine marching across the landscape. But these rocks looked different. Curious, I stopped the car to have a look.

Crystalline limestone, yes, but these were hewn into rough rectangular shapes, laid in a mosaic pattern, and bordered by straight rows of same. Nineteen hundred years of wind and winter rain set them in jagged profile. Two paces (about three meters) from edge row to edge row confirms another stretch, this one 150 meters long, of the Roman road on Rodopou.

Tell me when I’ve had enough. I love it out here!

150 meters of the Roman road on Rodopou

Continue ReadingAnother Stretch of Road

Praise for A Very Muddy Place: War Stories

 

“A VERY MUDDY PLACE is one of the most fascinating books I’ve read about the humble soldier’s point of view. It focuses on the experiences of the author’s great grandfather, Benjamin Franklin Potts, who fought with the American Expeditionary Force in France during World War I. The book is a vivid and deft mingling of anecdotes, history, and dramatic fiction, enriched with historic photographs, documents, and detailed maps. This is a captivating and historically important work. I highly recommend it!”

—Douglas Preston, #1 New York Times bestselling author of The Lost City of the Monkey God: A True Story

 

“Far too many histories of the First World War languish in private letters and forgotten family records. In A VERY MUDDY PLACE, Stephen Wendell constructs a narrative with his great grandfather’s stories to open a window on the horrors of that distant war. Using primary source material, he brings the Great War to life in the person of Benjamin Franklin Potts. This book is a delight, an insightful combination of historical narrative and fictional recreation, and we are better for it.”

—Steve Ruskin, PhD History, author of America’s First Great Eclipse

 

“Stephen Wendell crafts a poignant, stirring, and ultimately remarkable account of his ancestor’s service in the Great War. His attention to detail and depth of research is commendable. Interspersed with personal anecdotes and a keen sense of empathy, A VERY MUDDY PLACE is a unique, triumphant work of the highest merit and a tribute unlike anything I’ve ever read.”

—LTC Kevin Ikenberry, USA, Ret., author of The Protocol War series

 

A Very Muddy Place
Buy on Bookshop

All book sales made through Bookshop directly benefit independent bookstores.

Also available at these retailers.

A Very Muddy Place
WAR STORIES

An intimate account of a soldier’s experience in World War I, A Very Muddy Place takes us on a journey from a young man’s rural American hometown onto one of the great battlefields of France. We follow Private B. F. Potts with the 137th US Infantry Regiment through the first days of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. We discover a personal story—touching, emotional, unforgettable.

In 1918, twenty-three-year-old Bennie Potts was drafted into the US Army to fight in the World War. He served with the American Expeditionary Force in France. At home after the war, he married and raised a family, and the war for his children and grandchildren became the anecdotes he told them.

A century later, a great grandson brings together his ancestor’s war stories and the historical record to follow Private Benjamin Franklin Potts from Tennessee to the Great War in France and back home again.

Available in hardcover, paperback, and e-book.

More about A Very Muddy Place

 

Disclosure: This page and linked pages contain affiliate links to Bookshop, Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. As an affiliate of those retailers, Stephen earns a commission when you click through and make a purchase. Thank you for your support.

 

Continue ReadingPraise for A Very Muddy Place: War Stories

A Very Muddy Place: War Stories—Now Available

 

A Very Muddy Place
Buy on Bookshop

All book sales made through Bookshop directly benefit independent bookstores.

Also available at these retailers.

A Very Muddy Place
WAR STORIES

An intimate account of a soldier’s experience in World War I, A Very Muddy Place takes us on a journey from a young man’s rural American hometown onto one of the great battlefields of France. We follow Private B. F. Potts with the 137th US Infantry Regiment through the first days of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. We discover a personal story—touching, emotional, unforgettable.

In 1918, twenty-three-year-old Bennie Potts was drafted into the US Army to fight in the World War. He served with the American Expeditionary Force in France. At home after the war, he married and raised a family, and the war for his children and grandchildren became the anecdotes he told them.

A century later, a great grandson brings together his ancestor’s war stories and the historical record to follow Private Benjamin Franklin Potts from Tennessee to the Great War in France and back home again.

Available in hardcover, paperback, and e-book.

More about A Very Muddy Place

 

Disclosure: This page and linked pages contain affiliate links to Bookshop, Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. As an affiliate of those retailers, Stephen earns a commission when you click through and make a purchase. Thank you for your support.

 

Continue ReadingA Very Muddy Place: War Stories—Now Available

A Happy Day in France

It was a happy day in France. April 12, 1919, the 137th Infantry Regiment waved goodbye to the country B. F. Potts later described as “a very muddy place.”

A morning march, loaded with all their gear, took them to the docks [at Brest]. From there, they were conveyed by light boats to a transport ship anchored a mile out in the bay. France, as its final farewell, drizzled rain on them.

—from A Very Muddy Place: War Stories

Now, a century later, you can follow Private Benjamin Franklin Potts from Tennessee to the Great War in France and back home again.

 

A Very Muddy Place
Buy on Bookshop

All book sales made through Bookshop directly benefit independent bookstores.

Also available at these retailers.

A Very Muddy Place
WAR STORIES

An intimate account of a soldier’s experience in World War I, A Very Muddy Place takes us on a journey from a young man’s rural American hometown onto one of the great battlefields of France. We follow Private B. F. Potts with the 137th US Infantry Regiment through the first days of the Meuse-Argonne Offensive. We discover a personal story—touching, emotional, unforgettable.

In 1918, twenty-three-year-old Bennie Potts was drafted into the US Army to fight in the World War. He served with the American Expeditionary Force in France. At home after the war, he married and raised a family, and the war for his children and grandchildren became the anecdotes he told them.

A century later, a great grandson brings together his ancestor’s war stories and the historical record to follow Private Benjamin Franklin Potts from Tennessee to the Great War in France and back home again.

Available in hardcover, paperback, and e-book.

More about A Very Muddy Place

 

Disclosure: This page and linked pages contain affiliate links to Bookshop, Amazon, Apple, Barnes & Noble, and Kobo. As an affiliate of those retailers, Stephen earns a commission when you click through and make a purchase. Thank you for your support.

 

Continue ReadingA Happy Day in France

A Very Muddy Place Coming in April

I am pleased to announce A Very Muddy Place: War Stories will be released in April.

May through November last year I wrote the story of my great grandfather in World War I. Over the winter I edited the three dozen articles into a 153-page book and wrapped it up in a paperback cover. To the reader to judge its success.

 

A Very Muddy Place

 

In 1918, twenty-three-year-old Bennie Potts was drafted into the US Army to fight in the World War. He served with the American Expeditionary Force in France. At home after the war, he married and raised a family, and the war for his children and grandchildren became the anecdotes he told them.

A century later, a great grandson brings together his ancestor’s war stories and the historical record to follow Private Benjamin Franklin Potts from Tennessee to the Great War in France and back home again.

A Very Muddy Place
WAR STORIES
 
April 2019

Continue ReadingA Very Muddy Place Coming in April

A Very Muddy Place in Print

Tomorrow, the 100th anniversary of the Armistice, we’ll relive a big moment with Private Potts in A Very Muddy Place.

Today, I assembled the twenty-six articles of the series into a single document. At 17,000 words, the 80-page manuscript should make a print book of something over a hundred pages.

 


A Very Muddy Place

My great grandfather, like many veterans, didn’t talk much about his wartime experience. His family has only his discharge paper and a few anecdotes.

One hundred years later, I’ve discovered a few documents that bear his name. From draft registration to discharge, I’m following the paper trail of B. F. Potts’s journey to the battlefields of the Great War in France and back home again.

Continue ReadingA Very Muddy Place in Print

An Unremarkable Day

Nowhere in my research did I find that anything worth noting happened in the life of Benjamin Franklin Potts on this day a hundred years ago. He was in the Sommedieue sector, south of Verdun, in the trenches with the 35th Division. Haterius reports a few engagements during the week, involving other companies of the 137th Infantry Regiment, but Company M seems to have had an uneventful tour.

Between rotations in the trenches, the men read the international newspapers, where they learned that the Central Powers were showing signs of collapse. In previous weeks, Bulgaria had signed an armistice. The Ottoman Empire, without Bulgaria on its flank, was vulnerable to invasion, and ruler, Grand Vizier Talaat Pasha, had resigned with his entire ministry. The German army was retreating before the Allied advance on the Western Front, and talk among the troops was of an end to the war, of peace, of going home.

October 26, 1918, is now significant only because fifty years later, one of Ben’s granddaughters would add to his legacy of great grandsons. And fifty years after that, the great grandson would write that nothing worth noting happened in the life of his great grandfather a hundred years before.

We might guess that Private Potts on that day, like his sixth great grandson today, was thankful to have another day behind him, in which his life was not threatened, and another day before him, in which everything is possible.

 

Benjamin Franklin Potts 1946Benjamin Franklin Potts
at 52 in 1946

Stephen Michael Wendell 2018Stephen Michael Wendell
at 50 in 2018

 


A Very Muddy Place

My great grandfather, like many veterans, didn’t talk much about his wartime experience. His family has only his discharge paper and a few anecdotes.

One hundred years later, I’ve discovered a few documents that bear his name. From draft registration to discharge, I’m following the paper trail of B. F. Potts’s journey to the battlefields of the Great War in France and back home again.

Continue ReadingAn Unremarkable Day