The Villages Daily Sun

EUSTIS — The life of turn-of-the-century archaeologist Dr. Edgar J. Banks, who retired to Eustis, remains cloudy 62 years after his death, even though numerous museums and universities treasure ancient Babylonian artifacts he unearthed.

“I call him ‘The Forgotten Indiana Jones,’” says Dr. Ewa Wasilewska, associate professor of the University of Utah’s Department of Anthropology, who is writing a biography of Banks. “His story has every possible mystery, from Hollywood to New York.”

Separating fact from fiction is difficult. Very little has been written about the adventurer who looked for the Ark of the Covenant, climbed Mount Ararat in search of Noah’s Ark, and left behind an impressive array of artifacts.

“Edgar J. Banks’ contributions and significance to Central Florida is interesting and baffling at the same time,” says Florida State University assistant professor Kathy Clark. “The truly interesting part of getting to know — or trying to get to know Edgar J. Banks — is that many of the pieces of his story as it relates to his life and work while residing in Eustis, Fla., are either somewhat unknown, possibly misrepresented or just local lore.”

The following facts are irrefutable: Banks excavated Bismya (the ancient city of Adab) during an expedition sponsored by the University of Chicago in 1903-04; he sold thousands of artifacts after returning to the States; and he spent several years lecturing and writing books and magazine articles.

And he made motion pictures with famed director Cecil B. DeMille.

Lost films

“They were involved in a company known as Sacred Films,” Wasilewska said. “The films were not only ‘Sacred,’ they were secret. The company wasn’t registered anywhere. But it really did exist.”

That incredible claim is supported by about 200 old movie stills from sets of Biblical epics Banks’ late daughter, Daphne McLachlan, left to her children.

“In 1920, at the beginning of moviemaking, a lot of people were making movies about Biblical events. But they were all poor-quality, low-budget productions,” Wasilewska said. “This was very different. This was high-class, very professional. It was a secret company, but many important people were involved, including famous actors and actresses.”

What became of the films is one of many puzzles related to Banks.

Banks’ next endeavor is also shrouded in mystery.

“With the experience he got in California, he saw he could start a company in Florida to produce his own films,” Wasilewska said. “He used local actors, and so it would not be very expensive.”

Banks’ company, Seminole Films, made movies depicting life in ancient Rome and Greece, but the world never saw the films. In a weird twist of irony, the archaeologist who brought so many treasures out of the ground, deposited his cinematic efforts into the earth.

“He actually did make some movies, but none were released,” Wasilewska said. “He opened this company and he couldn’t sell the movies he made, so one day he packed all of the movies in tin cans and buried them on his property.”

The movies were never recovered.

“Daphne remembers seeing the pit, but she couldn’t remember where it was. Which is understandable. She was a small child, and Dr. Banks had 350 acres of land,” Wasilewska said.

Locating the films is the longest of long shots. The Banks’ property has been divided, sold, and resold several times since Banks shoveled dirt over film canisters.

“There’s no sense looking. Putting money into searching for the films wouldn’t be worth it,” Wasilewska said. “What would you get? They weren’t really good movies. They were done with local people. Basically, it would be like looking for home movies. Besides, the Florida humidity probably ruined them.”

It’s just as well. Banks should be remembered for his archaeological work, not amateur cinematic efforts.

Ruined reputation

Among the most significant treasures Banks brought out of the dessert is a Columbia University cuneiform tablet known as Plimpton 322, named for the man who bought the artifact from Banks for $10 in 1922.

According to the Columbia University Web site: “This clay tablet, in Old Babylonian script, is unique in confirming that the inhabitants of Mesopotamia employed in their calculations Pythagorean number theory, as much as 1,300 years before Pythagoras lived, to calculate the size of the sides of a right triangle whose sides are integers. From this tablet we learn that Greek mathematics, particularly astronomy, was indebted to the Babylonian science which preceded it.”

Banks couldn’t have realized the significance of the tablet. He always felt his most valuable find was an alabaster statue of a king unearthed at Bismya.

The statue was indeed a remarkable find, but scholars stateside disagreed with Banks’ belief that the statue depicted King David, King (of) Ud-nun-ki.

“He went to his grave saying it was King David, even though it was proved his translation was inaccurate,” Clark said.

That wasn’t the only disagreement Banks had with University of Chicago scholars.

“He was accused of stealing one of the statues, which he did not do,” Wasilewska said. “Even though he was one of the top scholars, they ruined his reputation. They ruined his career as a scholar.”

The fallout from the allegations still dogs Banks. The results of the Bismya excavations still haven’t been properly published.

Banks should have received the recognition.

He discovered one of the earliest known Mesopotamian temples and discovered some of the world’s first historical royal inscriptions (dating to 2550 B.C.). He also excavated a huge ziggurat (stepped temple honoring a god), palace with a library, cemetery, residential area, and sections of a city wall.

There’s no disputing the importance of the Bismya findings — more than 1,000 artifacts, many of them early cuneiform documents — are now housed in Chicago’s Oriental Institute Museum.

But most of the artifacts Banks sold to collectors, scholars, museums, colleges and universities (some for as little as $1) did not come from Bismya, the only site he personally excavated.

Experts say Plimpton 322 came from Senkereh, a site in southern Iraq. Other tablets originated in Umma and Drehem, cities archaeologists haven’t yet discovered. Banks also admitted purchasing cuneiform inscriptions from dealers and Arabs who “found” them at various sites.

Some tablets may have been purchased on the black market or smuggled out of the country.

Banks admitted as much in a May 21, 1916, letter: “Antiquities from Babylonia are now getting pretty scarce, and if Russia obtains possession of Mesopotamia, as it now seems, I fear that the supply will be permanently cut off. … The best thing about the Turkish government, for the archaeologist, is that the customs officials are not above corruption.”

Wasilewska says Banks purchased his first collection of artifacts in 1912, and that the transaction was above board.

“He was never involved in shady things,” Wasilewska remarks. “This was something he was accused of his whole life. And he’s still being accused. There are so many untrue things on the Internet about him. He was one of the most honest men in the whole world.”

Lasting legacy

How much credit Banks deserves for advancing our knowledge of past civilizations remains subject to debate. Scholars and researchers can’t even agree on how many ancient artifacts Banks brought into this country.

“I’ve seen two numbers thrown around most often: 11,000 and 175,000. Quite a difference,” Clark says. “I think the actual number is closer to 11,000. And that may be high.”

Wasilewska disagrees. “At this moment, nobody knows. The 175,000 number put forth by some scholars is too high, and I think 11,000 is too low,” Wasilewska says. “My estimate is 20,000 to 30,000.”

Banks’ motives have also been questioned. Wasilewska scoffs at allegations that Banks was only interested in profits, not preserving artifacts.

“When he was in Baghdad, he actually saved thousands of tablets. There were hundreds of thousands of tablets being sold. The British and French bought most of them for their museums and he used all the funds he had to buy whatever was left. He was basically penniless after this transaction,” Wasilewska said. “Accusations that he became a millionaire because of the tablets is simply not true. He barely survived the Depression.”

We will probably never have a complete picture of Dr. Edgar J. Banks. But there is no denying his archaeological contributions.

“With all of the controversy, we need to be thankful, when all is said and done, for what Edgar J. Banks contributed through his archaeological interests and finds — and subsequent sales,” Clark said. “You can’t even determine the value of them. You can’t go excavate any more. We’re never going to get back into Iraq. The tablets Dr. Banks sold are significant because those kinds of artifacts, you can’t get anymore.”

Gary Corsair is a senior writer with the Daily Sun. He can be reached at 753-1119, ext. 7907, or gary.corsair@thevillagesmedia.com.