ROMAN SEPULCRAL INSCRIPTIONS.

LONDON: PRINTED BY WOODFALL AND KINDER,
ANGEL COURT, SKINNER STREET.

ROMAN
TOMB INSCRIPTIONS:

THEIR CONNECTION TO
ARCHAEOLOGY, LANGUAGE, AND RELIGION.

FROM A SARCOPHAGUS IN THE YORK MUSEUM.

BY
JOHN KENRICK, M.A., F.S.A.

LONDON.
JOHN RUSSELL SMITH, 36, SOHO SQUARE.
YORK:
R. SUNTER, STONEGATE; H. SOTHERAN, CONEY STREET.
1858.

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[Pg vi]

[Pg vii]

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

[Pg 1]

The memorials of the dead play a unique role in history. Often, the only proof of a nation’s existence comes from their burial monuments, which help us trace their migrations and provide limited insights into their customs and level of civilization. In places where writing was not known, this knowledge is indeed vague and based on assumptions; we can guess the ethnicity from the shape of the skull and the social status or occupation from what’s found in the grave, but we learn nothing about the person’s individual character or social connections; they are just one among the countless numbers who

Even among countries that have developed the art of writing and used it extensively for memorial [Pg 2] purposes, we may be let down in our expectation of understanding any details about individual character from grave inscriptions. From the hieroglyphs found on Egyptian mummies and funerary tablets, we often only learn about the deceased's status and role. Greek inscriptions are more informative, but their ἐπιγράμματα ἐπιτύμβια, of which many are preserved in the Anthology, tend to be more like poetic exercises than true personal expressions. Additionally, those that have survived in brass or marble are short and lack detail.

Roman burial monuments from the Republican era are uncommon; however, those belonging to the Scipio family, [1] the earliest ones we know of, show a style that's completely different from the Greek. They reveal the character of the people and provide a striking sense of individuality. The following Saturnian verses are inscribed on the tomb of Publius Scipio, the son of the great Africanus.

Quei apicem, insigne Dialis Flaminis, gesistei
Death made sure that you had everything short,
[Pg 3]Honor, fame, virtue, glory, and talent.
Had you been allowed to live a long life,
You would easily have surpassed the glory of your ancestors.
Therefore, gladly the land receives you, Scipio,
O Publius, son of Publius, Cornelius.

During ancient times, burial inscriptions became very common, especially as cremation fell out of practice and the sarcophagus replaced the urn, which rarely has any identification of the person whose ashes it holds. These inscriptions have provided linguists, archaeologists, and historians with a wealth of material for their studies. The site of Eburacum has yielded a significant number of them, some of which have been lost or removed, while others are kept in the Museum of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society. Except for one, they are formal and dull; however, the large number of items held by the Society might inspire its members to explore the topic more extensively using the richer collections from other museums.

What has been said about the general brevity and dullness of our own inscriptions is also true for those found in England overall. There are very few in the collections of Horsley and his successors that stand out either in their execution or style. For the most part, they are just a simple[Pg 4] record of the age and status of the deceased, with a large number being the tombs of military men. The quantity and type of burial monuments reflect the population and wealth of a region or country; their language indicates the extent of Roman influence. Rome, of course, has produced the largest number. Northern Italy, after becoming non-Gallic, became fully Roman; its major cities, Verona, Milan, Brescia, and Padua, have yielded more Latin inscriptions than the south, where the Greek language was widely spoken. The southern regions of Gaul quickly became a Roman province, and its cities are filled with Roman antiquities, among which inscriptions play a prominent role. Several notable figures from the Silver Age—Seneca, Martial, Quintilian, Silius Italicus—were born in the southern cities of Spain, and while the Spanish inscriptions, though less significant than might be expected, indicate the widespread use of Latin in that country. Northern Africa was under Roman occupation, with a brief interruption during the Vandals' conquest, for eight centuries. While the rural population kept the old Punic language, Latin must have been commonly used in the cities, as African bishops and writers[Pg 5] were the pioneers of Latin eloquence in the Christian Church. Since the French took control of Algeria, ancient Roman colony sites have been surveyed, resulting in a rich collection of Latin inscriptions. However, Britain was remote and poor, occupied by the Romans relatively late and abandoned early. Even during their occupation, they were primarily stationed in the towns they built and fortified, rather than mixing with the local population. Therefore, it's not surprising that our inscriptions are mainly military or that when the Romans left, they left few marks of their presence in the language of Britain.

It was almost universally common in the ancient world to bury the bodies or ashes of the dead outside the city limits. Even in Egypt, where embalming could have made it safe to keep them near the living, the cemeteries of major cities were located on the other side of the Nile. Lycurgus is said to have ordered burials to occur within Sparta’s boundaries to encourage familiarity with the idea of death. In contrast, the Athenians dedicated the most beautiful area of their city, the Ceramicus outside the walls, for burying their dead, and the area beyond the walls of the Piraeus seemed to be filled with tombs. If the Romans ever buried within their homes, it must have been when their territory didn’t extend beyond the city walls, as the Twelve Tables explicitly state: Do not bury or cremate a dead person in the city.. The main roads in Rome appeared to be lined with tombs for a considerable distance, especially the Appian Way, which Statius referred to as the “Queen of Roads.” Atticus was buried at the fifth milestone from the city along this road, and Gallienus at the ninth. No urn or sarcophagus has been found within the walls of Roman York, but signs of burials start immediately outside the gates. On the southern side, which was not included in the fortifications of Eburacum, the area near the river had suburban villas, indicated by the intricate pavements that have been uncovered; however, at the Mount, half a mile from the river, one of the main cemeteries of the city began, stretching along the road leading to Calcaria. Burial remains have also been discovered near other exits from the city. While we recognize that in moving the remains of the dead away from where the living reside, the ancients demonstrated more wisdom than modern nations, we can’t help but be surprised that they allowed the unpleasant process of burning the dead to happen so close to their homes. The exact location of the ustrinum at York hasn’t been clearly identified; if it’s at Clifton, where many urns have been found, it was at a moderate distance from the gate; but at Pompeii, it was only about a furlong from the main road at the gate, and at Aldborough, near the wall. The Romans even had Health Boards in their smaller municipalities—at least, that’s what I take Novemvir and Triumvir Valetudinarius to mean; and it may seem unusual that they didn’t move the ustrinum further away. Its impact could hardly be offset, even by the abundant fragrant gums and oils used at funerals. Augustus prohibited the burning of bodies within fifteen stadia of the city. The only site that has been confirmed near Rome is around the fifth milestone on the Appian Way. The ustrinum at Litlington, which I believe is the only one whose location has been established in England, was a rectangular area enclosed by walls, and not located near any large town. Here and at Aldborough, the ustrinum also served as a cemetery. The cemetery of Roman London was in Spitalfields. (Arch. 36, 206.)

The placement of Roman tombs along major roads explains the regular greeting from the occupant of the grave to the traveler: Stop, traveler; you who are passing along the Flaminian Way, pause and read this; travelers, greetings and farewell.; phrases that have occasionally been imitated, though not very fittingly, in churchyards and cemeteries. Travelers are often addressed with some moral reflection; I lived while you live, you will die while I am dead.; sometimes with a rather Epicurean tone, like that of Prima Pompeia; Fortune offers many things to many people but guarantees nothing to anyone. Live for the present moment and the hours, for nothing truly belongs to you.[12]. The occupant of the grave sometimes invites those passing by to offer the customary prayer for him, REST IN LIGHT EARTH (R.I.L.E.).

Prævenere diem vitæ crudelia fata
And the doomed boat of the underworld has taken me.
With this eulogy, have mercy on the young man lying here,
And as you leave, say, May the earth rest lightly upon you __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__.

The traveler is called from deep within the tomb to stop and refresh himself, and to offer a drink to the deceased in the form of a funeral libation; Mix, drink, give me. Located along public roads, monuments were often subjected to various forms of defilement, which the spirits of the dead despise, sometimes threatening punishment for the offenders. One of the most common violators was the wall writer, who found the side of a tombstone a tempting canvas for his craft. Writer, spare this work. is not a message from a writer to his critic, but from a husband to the wall scribbler, pleading with him not to ruin the monument of his wife. [14] A common purpose of these notices was to endorse candidates for office, promising success only if the monument remained untouched. Let it be known that you are an honored candidate, and you will be a successful writer if you do not write here. I urge you, the inscriber, to pass over this monument. Whoever's name is inscribed here will be rejected and will bear no honor. [15]

In early society, there wouldn’t be much risk of burial sites being used for everyday purposes. The desecration of a grave was heavily punished by Roman law, and some inscriptions condemned it on humanitarian grounds, while others warned of divine retribution. Fabius Augurinus expresses[Pg 10] a wish for anyone who would respect the tomb of his wife and child;[16] May you never experience pain or let out a sorrowful sigh that this inscription reflects your sadness.. Another person appeals,[17]

Sacred traveler, do not harm this place.
Fate has given you this home since you were born.

Another[18] says the terrible curse, WHOEVER TAKES THIS OR DAMAGES IT, MAY THE LAST OF THEIR FAMILY DIE. The dedication is often noted on the tomb with the phrase “Sub ascia,” along with the image of an adze or hatchet[19]. However, Roman burial sites didn't have the same legal protection that our churchyards do; they were usually taken from the fields and gardens near the road, and heirs were often tempted to reclaim the land for their property. The inscriptions on Roman tombs show the effort made by those who commissioned them to prevent the sites from being used for other purposes or taken over by anyone other than those intended to be buried there. The area designated for the tomb and its accessories is clearly defined; THIS SPACE EXTENDS 20 FEET IN FRONT AND 25 FEET INTO THE LAND.; sometimes, we find[Pg 11] much larger measurements. If the land had been granted by someone else for this use, the terms of the grant were sometimes inscribed on the monument. The right to use the tomb for placing sarcophagi or urns is usually noted with the phrase, He created this for himself and his own.; often, permission is granted for the burial of freedmen and freedwomen alongside their master. Occasionally, permission is given to include a limited number of ollæ, or funeral urns,[20] or, conversely, a specific individual is expressly forbidden from entering or even getting close to the tomb; EXCEPT FOR HERME TE THE FREEDMAN, I DO NOT WANT HIM TO HAVE ACCESS TO OR BE ABLE TO APPROACH THIS MONUMENT DUE TO HIS WRONGDOINGS.. In another inscription, SECUNDINA THE FREEDWOMAN, DISLOYAL TO HER PATRON, is banned from being buried in his tomb.[21] The rude statement, I DO NOT HAVE A PARTNER IN THIS MONUMENT. is a rare exception, and generally, the burial inscriptions reflect a favorable view of the relationships between masters and their households. Gruter's collection includes many pages of inscriptions that express the mutual feelings of masters and patrons, slaves, and freedmen; and an equally rich and pleasing[Pg 12] record of the sentiments of slaves and freedmen toward each other.

The heir was especially envied; HOC MONUMENTUM HÆREDEM NON SEQUITUR (H.M.H.N.S.) is a standard phrase; the opposite condition, that the monument should belong to the heir, is quite rare.[22] The ban on transferring ownership is stated with all the detail of legal language; HOC MONUMENTUM, CUM ÆDIFICIO SUPERPOSITO NEQUE MUTABITUR, NEQUE VÆNIET, NEQUE DONABITUR, NEQUE PIGNORI OBLIGABITUR, NEQUE ULLO MODO ABALIENABITUR, NE DE NOMINE EXEAT FAMILIÆ SUÆ,[23] and is sometimes enforced by a fine to the municipality, the Roman people, or the vestal virgins and the Pontifices, with one-fourth of the fine going to the informer. Legal loopholes were greatly feared as a way to undermine the intent of the builder of the monument: thus, we often see the statement, This monument is free of deceit; sometimes with the addition And Legal Consultant, a combination that, in countries where civil law is practiced, has become a running joke against the legal experts.[24] To eliminate one potential argument, we find a man declaring on his tomb, in an inscription directing that a statue be erected for him, that[Pg 13] when he made his will, he had “a sound and disposing mind;” I, of sound mind and clear judgment, aware of the human condition, have made this will..[25] It is noted on the pyramid of C. Cestius that the monument was completed in 330 days, “arbitratu Pontii Cl. Melæ heredis et Pothi liberti,” indicating that the heir was not solely trusted with the task. So in Horace (Sat. 2, 5, 105),

——Sepulcrum
Build freely without shame.

In one inscription, it states that for the inheritance to take effect, the monument must be started within three days of the testator’s death, and its design is specified. A son explains to his father why he built a simple monument for him due to the small inheritance: “If I had had a greater share of my inheritance, I would have honored you with a grander tribute, dearest father.”[26] With this lack of faith in how future generations would remember them, it was common for people to erect their monuments while they were still alive, leaving their heirs only the task of adding the years of their life; the year of death, which the Romans noted by the Consuls, is rarely mentioned. He lived for himself. (sometimes se vivo, se vivis or even me vivus, se vivus) is often seen, as on the sarcophagus of M. Diogenes Verecundus, which was previously in York. Mindus Zosimus Senior clearly states on his tomb why he didn’t leave the choice up to his heir; he was concerned that they would handle the task poorly.

Vivus, I made sure that no one would bury me too slowly after my death
Under a small cremation pyre.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

A body placed in a tomb couldn't be moved to another one without the permission of the priests, nor could the tomb be repaired if that meant moving the remains, without the approval of the authorities. We find on the tomb of a freedman a copy of the request he submitted to be allowed to move the bodies of his wife and son, which he had temporarily placed in a clay sarcophagus, to a marble monument, “so that when I cease to exist, I can be laid to rest with them.”[28]

Besides the monument itself, various features related to it are noted in the Roman burial inscriptions. The area was filled with structures meant for the annual commemorations of the deceased, as specified in his will. We read of a diæta, or summer house; a solarium, or open balcony; an accumbitorium, or entertaining room; an apparitorium, where the tables and benches used[Pg 15] by guests were stored. The land next to the monument often included a well, a cistern, or a piscina, from which water for the funeral rites could be drawn, and a grove, where wood could be cut for sacrifices. If located in a garden, the monument was referred to as cepotaphium. A building was constructed, sometimes a permanent ædificium, sometimes a simple nubilare or shed, to accommodate the person guarding the tomb (locus habitationis tutelæ causa), and this role was usually given to a freedman, known as ædituus[29]. The inscriptions often indicate the amount that the deceased left for an annual celebration at his tomb, typically on his birthday. This celebration varied; sometimes it involved pouring out wine and milk (profusiones), or scattering roses on the tomb (rosalia), along with a feast. L. OGIUS PATROCLUS donated these gardens along with the building connected to this tomb while he was still alive, so that from their proceeds, roses and delicacies could be generously provided to his patron and, at times, to himself.[30] We find a testator instructing that an annual feast, for which he allocates 125 denarii, should be held by the pagani, or rural residents of the area, on his birthday, or, if this duty is neglected, then the building and[Pg 16] the donation should go to the College of Physicians, and to his freedmen, so they could celebrate on that day. If this does not happen, then this place, as stated above, will have an annual amount of 125. (denariis) In perpetuity, it shall belong to the College of Physicians and my freedmen that they celebrate on my birthday.[31] We shouldn't attach overly grand notions to the “College of Physicians.” Every legal association in Rome was referred to as a college, and the medical group encompassed practitioners of all levels, including veterinarians and midwives.[32]

Another way people show respect is by lighting a lamp at the monument or refilling it with oil. Anyone who has examined the remnants of Roman history knows that lamps are often discovered alongside burial monuments. The following inscription encourages those passing by to perform this service:[33]—

Quisquis put a burning lamp on this tomb
May rich earth cover his ashes.

[Pg 17]To ensure that these ceremonies were properly conducted, the monument carefully guarantees the rights to "access, draw water, crown, offer sacrifices, gather firewood, and bury the dead," as well as to "entrance, act, approach, entry, and circuit." Law has always enjoyed detailed lists. Securing the ongoing observance of these funeral honors was one reason why the transfer of the land was so strictly prohibited. Titus Ælius, a freedman of Augustus, dedicates the monument that he and his wife built to his freedmen, freedwomen, and their descendants, SO THAT NOTHING IS FORGOTTEN ABOUT THEM OR THEIR FAMILY; SO THAT TRIBUTES CAN BE PAID TO HIS MEMORY FOR AS LONG AS POSSIBLE.[34] A poetic inscription by a husband to his wife, taken too soon in life, references these annual memorial offerings.[35]

Lactate upon you, Cybele, and may the rose, favored by Venus, bloom; And may the Nymphs offer gracious flowers and woven lilies. And I pray that those who truly deserve will bring you annual gifts, And here may the spirits rest peacefully through the night, And above, may the nightingale sing sweetly from its nest in Marathonia.

It is not common to find in Roman burial inscriptions a specific mention of the cause of death. A father thus records his son’s early death from a well collapsing:[36]—

[Pg 18] Small under this title are the bones of Papiri
Which the grieving father buried because of fate.
If he had lived, he would now carry the names of lords.
This misfortune brought him to rock bottom.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The following inscription records the death of a male and female slave, crushed by a crowd in the Capitol, who may have gathered to see British captives led in chains during a triumphant parade:[38]—

Ummidiæ Manes, that mound covers you, and at the same time
The firstborn spirits, who came together one day.
For the ones who crowded on the Capitol
Confronted the final day of destiny.

Ælius Proculinus, on his wife's tomb, curses those who had cut her life short through magical spells. She lay bound by spells through changed times, so that her spirit would be torn away rather than returned to nature. Whoever committed this act will be punished by either the spirits of the underworld or the celestial gods as avengers of this crime.[39]

The wounded feelings had their victims. P. L. Modestus honors Telesinia Crispinilla, TO HIS MOST HOLY WIFE, WHO DIED FROM WANTING [Pg 19] FOR HER HOLIEST SON AND REFUSED TO LIVE FOR FIFTEEN DAYS AFTER HIS DEATH.[40] Cerialius Calistio gently laments a similar overwhelming maternal grief that caused his wife's death; While she was overly devoted, she became unholy..[41] Communis and Casia set up a monument in memory of a daughter who passed away at fifteen and a son, WHO LIVED ONE DAY AFTER HIS SISTER'S DEATH.[42] The following couplet notes the death of Antonia Maura due to caring for her sick husband:—

Italica earth took me with a cruel death,
While I cared a lot for the man.

The complaint that "doctors were useless" is very old. [43]

Ussere ardentes intus mea viscera morbi,
Conquer those whom medicine could not help.

Pliny hasn’t mentioned the name of the unfortunate man whose tombstone stated TURBA MEDICORUM SE PERIISSE, which means he died because of too many doctors. The surgeons are also criticized for their lack of skill. Medici cut off the male members; I made a tomb for you over the body that remains. seems to be what a master would say to his gladiator,[Pg 20] who, despite being mutilated, had won the fight but lost his life due to poor treatment of his injuries.[45]

Inscriptions are fascinating to scholars because they record the changes the Latin language experienced over different periods. Manuscripts don't fully capture this evolution because transcribers often changed old forms to new ones, especially in spelling, either out of habit or to make their work more marketable. Since sepulchral inscriptions are usually created by private individuals, they more accurately reflect the language of everyday life compared to public monuments. They serve a similar purpose for linguists as regional dialects do, where the old language of a place is often preserved, even when it has faded from formal and trendy speech. From the inscriptions found in the tomb of the Scipios in the early third century BCE to the rise of Christianity, which marked a gradual decline in Pagan formulas, we have a record spanning about six centuries. I will provide a few examples from funeral inscriptions that either shed light on the history of the Latin language or illustrate the colloquial language and pronunciation that influenced the formation of modern Italian.

The analogy of the Greek and the term [Pg 21]paterfamilias leads to the conclusion that the genitive of the first declension was originally formed in s, then lost its final letter to become aï, and finally contracted into æ.[46] I have not noticed any genitives of common nouns in this declension formed in s in sepulchral inscriptions, but we do see Faustines, Bellones, and Midaes as genitives of proper names, which, according to grammatical rules, should be formed in æ. The feminine dative in abus is permitted by grammarians where there might be confusion about gender due to the use of is, as seen in deabus, filiabus, libertabus; however, we also see it used in inscriptions where no such ambiguity exists, like in nymphabus, fatabus, and even horabus. What’s even more notable is the extension of this dative formation to the second declension, in words like diibus and amicibus. Some deviations from standard usage can certainly be attributed to the fact that in Italy, as in England, the Muse of the cemetery was an “unlettered Muse.” “Hic jacit”[47] in a Latin inscription doesn't prove that there was no distinction between the neuter and active verb any more than “here lays” in an English churchyard does. We also can’t deduce from constructions like “cum quam bene vixi,”[Pg 22] “ab ædem,” that cum and ab governed the accusative; or from a phrase like hunc collegium, that nouns in um were once masculine. But often, what initially appears to be just common solecisms will actually have justification in analogy. Dua as a neuter for duo[48] is considered a barbarism by Quinctilian (1, 5, 15); yet he acknowledges that everyone said duapondo and that Messala argued it was correct. Evento for eventui, spirito for spiritui, demonstrate that the double mode of declension wasn’t limited to domus. Solo for soli has the backing of Cato, who used soli for solius, and Terence, who used solæ for the same case.[49] “Fatus suus” on a monument might look like a mistake, but malus fatus appears in Petronius Arbiter (p. 270). We find in an inscription[50]

Diva, please, embrace the sacred Earth
Whose bones are listed on this stone?

and ossuary, the vase that held the burnt bones, shows that ossua was a legitimate form. The use of carere with an accusative[51] (“Filios duos caruit:” “Dulcem carui lucem, cum te amisi ego conjunx”) has a parallel in Plautus. The usual construction of compos is with a genitive, but it is not incorrect when L. Statius Diodorus writes a tablet to God, “Quod se precibus compotem[Pg 23] fecisset;” for Livy (3, 35) uses it with an ablative. The use of susum for sursum explains the Latin sus (in susque deque) and the Italian su. Meses for menses, senu for sinu, laguna for lacuna, longitia (lunghezza) for longitudo, so for sum, all occurring in sepulchral inscriptions, show the inclination of the Latin language towards the Italian.

The Italian adds an i to a word that starts with s followed by a consonant when it comes after a word ending with a consonant, as in iscambio, iscoglio, ispirito; and we see in inscriptions iscribit, ispiritus.[52] “Poor letter H” was treated with the same old-fashioned inconsistency as it is today, being dropped where it should be and inserted where it shouldn't. So we encounter ora, ortulus, omo, ospitium, onestus; and on the other hand, hædiculus, helephantus, horiundus, hordini, Hosiris, and post hobitum. However, those who leave out the aspirate are always more numerous than those who add it; in Italy, they eventually gained dominance, and it has been eliminated in pronunciation from modern Italian, which follows the old Romans, who said ædos and ircos.[53] The frequent replacement of b for v on later monuments, bibi for vivi, bixit for vixit, lebo for levo, habe for ave, occurred because b was pronounced with a slight aspiration in both Greek and Latin[Pg 24] [54] , which is why we see Greek writers representing Varro as Βάῥῤων and Flavius as Φλάβιος.

The records of the trades and professions of the deceased, found in Roman tomb inscriptions, often provide an interesting glimpse into the differences in manners and customs between the ancient world and today. They fill in gaps in written accounts or clarify obscure and solitary references in classic texts. One obvious difference is the lack of false shame in acknowledging the modest role that the deceased held in life. The pig dealer is noted as a “negotiator suarius”; the female greengrocer is labeled as “negotiatrix frumentaria et leguminaria,” who ran a stall next to one of the steps leading down to the Tiber.[55] It would not now be mentioned on a medical practitioner's grave that he started his career practicing in many marketplaces “fora multa secutus.” [56] Perhaps the most notable example of the difference between ancient and modern attitudes in this regard is shown by the tomb of Æmilia Irene, whose husband describes himself as “stupidus gregis urbani,” the clown of the city’s group of entertainers.[57] This profession still attracts candidates, but their role would likely not be recorded on their tombstones. The differing attitudes in ancient times may be attributed to the fact that these entertainers performed at festivals honoring the gods, thus gaining a degree of respectability. The Christian writer Arnobius criticizes the Pagans for this practice: “Mimis dei delectantur stupidorum capitibus rasis, factis et dictis turpibus, fascinorum ingentium rubore.” [58] L. Cornelius Januarius is noted on his monument as the fanaticus of the temples of Isis, Serapis, and Bellona, meaning he was one of those hired by the priests to energize the followers with wild and frantic gestures, thought to show divine inspiration.[59] The Grex Romanus honors the actor of pantomimes, Pylades, who first brought the Ion and Troades of Euripides to the Roman stage, and for his outstanding performances received accolades from the prominent cities of Italy.[60] The tomb inscriptions reveal the detailed subdivisions of public entertainment arts. One inscription informs us that when Greek mimes (farces) were performed for the people in Rome, a vivâ voce explanation in Latin served as a translated script.[61] Ursus Togatus boasts in his inscription that he was the first to perform graceful tricks with a glass ball for the enjoyment of visitors to the baths of Trajan, Agrippa, Titus, and Nero.[62] The ancient magicians seem to have at least matched Indian jugglers in skill. One of them was even deemed worthy of remembrance by the Byzantine historian, Nicephorus Gregoras.[63] He could toss a glass ball into the air and catch it on the tip of his fingernail, the end of his elbow, and other parts of his body. Another inscription claims that the person it describes could shoot one arrow through another while in flight. Early achievements in theatrical arts are also documented. Eucharis, who died at fourteen, proclaims on her tomb that she was

Docta, educated almost by the hand of the Muses;
Who just recently adorned the noble games with a chorus
And first appeared on stage in front of the Greek audience.

A particularly impressive example of talent at a young age is L. Valerius, who, at just thirteen, was crowned in the Capitol for a Latin poetry competition.[64] The theater decorations, which usually focus on Greeks, tend to be boastful, which is unlike the Roman spirit. The death of Vitalis, an actor and performer, must have been a major loss to the public, “casting a shadow over the joy of nations,” if we take his epitaph at face value.

Me suddenly saw raging emotions fall;
Pain laughed as I got closer.
No one could burn with biting worries,
Nor was I swayed by the unpredictable changes around me.
Our presence overcame everyone's fears,
Every hour was joyful for me.
I imagined faces, appearances, and the words of speakers
So that you would believe more people were speaking with one voice.
Even I, whom my eyes mirrored,
I was shocked to see even more of myself in him.

i. e. the person being imitated was shocked to see the imitation resemble him more than he did himself![65] However, there is one different kind of example we can mention, which, for its straightforward expressiveness, could be honored on a monument to Macready. GENIUS OF COMEDY, DUE TO UNIQUE ARTISTIC SKILL AND UPRIGHTNESS OF CHARACTER. This last quality seems to have been uncommon among actors, and we can understand the strong opposition of the Christian Fathers towards the theater when we read on the tomb of a girl who was training for pantomime,—

Cujus in octava lascivia surgere messe
He began to rise during the eighth celebration and couldn't resist causing a little trouble.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Before we move on from the unique features of Roman burial inscriptions, we should mention the practice of placing images of the tools used by the deceased in their profession on their tombs. The tomb of a baker, found a few years ago near the Porta Maggiore in Rome, was designed to look like an oven, and it featured carvings of loaves, a kneading trough, and a mill powered by a donkey. From the tomb of Cossutius, a carpenter, we see representations of a square, plumb line, compass, calipers, and a chisel that closely resembles a celt, which has been extensively discussed by scholars. The ornamental hairdresser, or tirewoman, signals her profession with a mirror and a bottle of perfume; the postman shows his trade with a pen-and-ink case; the building surveyor uses a ten-foot rule; and the cutler is represented by knives. The appearance of these symbols on Christian graves is thought to have led to misconceptions about unauthorized martyrdoms, with the cutler believed to have been flayed alive, the wool-carder thought to have been torn apart by iron combs, the blacksmith presumed to have been tortured with tongs, and the carpenter allegedly sawed in half. This tradition persisted into the middle ages. A tombstone in the Yorkshire Philosophical Society museum features a bell and a melting pot, indicating that it marks the grave of a bell-founder, and similar symbols have been discovered in Bakewell Church and other locations. Today, only military and naval monuments show professional symbols.

It doesn't seem possible to figure out the average lifespan from the inscriptions on tombstones from the centuries they cover. They usually accurately state the age of the deceased, often mentioning the months, days, and hours; but they are just fragments of the original record of mortality, which was itself very incomplete. Many people were, of course, cremated or buried without any monument being erected for them. There were pits outside the Esquiline Gate where common people were buried indiscriminately. According to Ulpian, who wrote during the reign of Alexander Severus, population records—including age, sex, health, and death—were kept accurately by censors for ten centuries. From these records, as noted in Dr. Bissett Hawkins’s Medical Statistics,[70] that I’m citing, the average lifespan among the Romans was thirty years; while in England, according to Mr. Finlaison, it is fifty for the upper classes and forty-five for the general population. I don’t place much trust in mortality records from the time of Servius Tullius, considering how rare historical documents are from the early[Pg 31] days of Rome. Additionally, many of the monuments are dedicated to military men who seem to have died at very young ages. There are many reasons why the average lifespan might be shorter than in England. There was no support for the poor among them, except perhaps for the irregular distribution of congiaria; there were no public hospitals; large parts of the city were unhealthy; their clothing wasn’t conducive to cleanliness, though this was somewhat mitigated by bathing; and life was often cut short by suicide, which was seen as either excusable or even commendable. The average suggested by the inscriptions would definitely be low; I’ve noted one person who died at 102 years, of which 90 were lived without illness, and another at 100, [72] and one at 92, [73] but these are uncommon. Valerius Julianus commemorated his son, who was three years old, and his mother (mammulæ), who was 80.

Disparate lady of fate and varied threads;
This one will make me laugh, while that one will cry.
For she lived for almost forty full years,
But he died at the age of three while serving as consul.
Why were you so hasty before, yet so late again?
Both are invited to your funeral, dear Persephone.
[Pg 32]He who could hardly see the light could barely live;
Someone who didn't want to live could hardly have died.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

We are now entering a more intriguing question. What insights do the Roman burial inscriptions provide about the social relationships, family bonds, and religious beliefs of the people who created them? The voice of nature speaks more authentically from the grave than anywhere else; and while memorial phrases may eventually become formulaic and meaningless, they originally carry a deep significance and express genuine feelings. We are curious to know how a people so different from us in culture and religion articulated their thoughts about the most serious event in human life. What qualities did they celebrate in their deceased friends? Whether accurate or not regarding the individual, the inscribed praise will, in any case, show us the standards of virtue that were valued in those times. In what words did they convey their love or sorrow? What hopes for the future did they express as they said goodbye?

The Roman lapidary style effectively conveyed emotions and characterized individuals with energetic brevity, standing in stark contrast[Pg 33] to the lengthy and cluttered epitaphs moderns prefer. A talkative or boastful epitaph in Latin raises red flags for critics of inscriptions, unless it clearly comes from the late pagan era.[75] Using Latin hasn’t helped curb the wordiness of today’s writers; only the Italians have truly grasped the spirit of classical antiquity, managing to express a lot in just a few words. Genuine sorrow is expressed simply and concisely. What could resonate more deeply with the emotion of a mother’s grief and love than the words, Hail, light, radiant Mother! or Sleep well, son! Your mother asks you to welcome me to you.? The inscription on the sarcophagus in our Museum,[Pg 34] D. M. SIMPLICIÆ FLORENTINÆ, SOUL OF THE MOST INNOCENT, WHO LIVED FOR 10 MONTHS, SIMPLICIUS FATHER MADE THIS., wouldn’t have gained any emotional weight from a detailed account of a father’s grief. The same goes for the inscription placed by her parents on Cornelia Anniana, who passed away just as her chatter was starting to bring them joy. Dear sweetest daughter, now chatty, not yet two years old.[76] Most records of the deceased simply mention the name, status, and age, or include a brief and modest praise like To the best and unique person.

We sometimes come across epitaphs that play around with names, which doesn’t really fit with our ideas of what these kinds of pieces should be like. Still, a real sense of loss might resonate with the connection between the name and the person it describes, like the second inscription points out, or find comfort in the lighthearted reference in the third. On the tomb of Aper[77] was inscribed this couplet:—

Innocent boar, look, you lie here, not from the anger of a maiden
Nor did the fierce Meleager stab your insides with a blade.

And on the tomb of Glyconis,[78]—

Hoc jacet in tumulo secura Glyconis honesto.
Sweet was her name, and her spirit was even sweeter.

[Pg 35]On Floridus's, marked it seems, with a flower,[79]—

Quod vixi, flos est. Servat lapis hoc mihi nomen.
Don't stress about the gods of the underworld; a flower is all you need for the title.

What our writers on heraldry refer to as canting and the French call armes parlantes, meaning images related to family names, was known to the Romans; it appears on their coins, like a steer (vitulus) on the denarius of Q. Voconius Vitulus; a murex on that of Furius Purpureo; a foot on that of Crassipes, and a flower on that of Aquillius Florus.[80]

In the inscriptions that go into more detail about public services, one major difference stands out to someone used to modern ones: they don’t mention acts of social kindness at all. It’s true that things like building a fountain, constructing a road, dedicating a temple, putting on gladiatorial and floral games, or leaving money for an annual feast are often recognized as honors. However, I don’t recall seeing any records from pagan times of a life dedicated to easing suffering, helping the poor, or combating ignorance and vice. Those virtues are particularly associated with Christianity. The[Pg 36] following inscription would be identified as relating to a Christian woman, even if the date didn’t establish it as from the middle of the fifth century of our era. God is faithful, sweet husband, caregiver of the family, humble to all, gracious with a pure heart, lover of the poor.[81]

When parents create a funeral monument for their children, the inscription often reflects the sentiment of Cato the Elder, as noted in Cicero's *De Senectute* (c. 23), regarding the unnatural order that such a duty by the parent represents. “Cato, whose body I cremated; which should have been done by him for me.” For example, an inscription in Naples by Calvidius for his son, who died at age 20, reads: What the son should do for the father, the father did for the son.; and in another inscription: Because the daughter should have acted for her father, an untimely death caused the father to take action.. The sentiment is clearly expressed in the following distich:—

Quod decuit natam patri præstare sepulto
This, contrary to what was appropriate, the father himself arranged for his daughter.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

A mother, burying her son who died at 35, laments, HUNC THESE LAWS OF THE DEAD HAVE TAKEN AWAY FROM THE MOTHER, WHO SURELY IN YEARS WAS ALSO FIRST IN DEATH. Parents not only refer to themselves as infelicissimi due to the loss of their children, but also as impii and crudeles because they outlive them.

[Pg 37]Children from their early graves try to ease their parents’ sorrow by placing the blame on fate.

Nec tibi nec nobis æternum vivere cessit:
What we start, you might think, is a destiny to regret.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

A father explains to his daughter why he hasn't died and mixed his ashes with hers—it's because he has responsibilities to his other children who are still alive.

Quæ tibi cunque mei potuerunt pignora amoris
Nata, from the people, are given with tears.
Et volui majora nimis; sed cura meorum
Your trust prevents me from being the ashes of the pyre.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Mothers regret, after losing their children, that they had ever become mothers.

Cernis ut orba meis, hospes monumenta locavi,
Et tristis senior natos miseranda requiro.
Exemplis referenda mea est deserta senectus,
Ut steriles vere possint gaudere maritæ.[85]

Whatever you read here, with a devoted heart, Mom
Cry for me and grieve as if I gave you life.
Here lies my son, who was taken by a cruel death.
Who was the main reason for me to live.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The feeling expressed in the following inscription often appears on monuments and has been reproduced in modern times. Mother made the monument. [Pg 38] To the mother of the son, from whom I have never felt pain, except when he was not there.[87]

We learn from the tomb inscriptions that the Romans had the same familiar terms as we do for the formal titles of father and mother, mamma and tata. The following inscription is found in Rome: D.M. ZETHO CORINTHUS, son of TATA and NICE MAMMA. He lived for 6 years.[88] These also had their affectionate diminutives, mammula and tatula. However, it's likely that the use of these was limited to freedmen and that particular class of society. In one case[89] a man sets up a monument for his elderly bonne, NONNÆ SUÆ. The word isn't found in classical Latin; however, it is clearly the original of nun and may imply that conventual vows were initially taken mainly by older women. In Italy today, it is the familiar term for grandmother.

The inscriptions from children on their parents' tombs are typically short and general, reflecting gratitude and love: TO THE SWEETEST MOM, THE MOST DEVOTED, or THE MOST DEVOUT, DEAREST, BEST; TO THE CARING FATHER, THE GREATEST; or together TO THE GREATEST PARENTS, which is the common way[Pg 39] these inscriptions are written. The monument of Meia states that she was the mother of seven sons who came together to build a monument of Parian marble in her honor.

Me away, happy with seven children around me;
During my life, a supportive group was with me.
So that the pleasant group of my children would respond to me
This piece was made for me from Parian marble.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

I need to point out, as a caution, that the creators of fake inscriptions have been particularly active in making sentimental inscriptions. The one about Julia Alpinula was accepted as real by Johannes Müller, the historian of Switzerland, and Lord Byron declared it to be the most touching of human writings. JULIA ALPINULA HERE I LIE. UNLUCKY DAUGHTER OF AN UNLUCKY FATHER, PRIESTESS OF THE GODDESS AVENTICA. I COULD NOT AVERT MY FATHER'S DEATH. IT WAS WRITTEN IN FATE THAT I WOULD DIE BADLY. I LIVED 23 YEARS. The idea was inspired by Tacitus (Hist. 1, 68), where it's said that Cæcina had Julius Alpinus, the leading figure of Aventicum, executed. It was sent by Paulus Gulielmus, a well-known literary fraud, to Lipsius, but the original has never been found, and it is now widely accepted to be a forgery. Many of the poetic inscriptions in Burmann’s “Anthologia” are from the [Pg 40] sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. However, the beautiful lines in Jortin’s “Lusus Poetici” that start with,—

Quæ te tam tenera rapuerunt Pœta juventa,

have been received into collections as ancient.

Among the tomb inscriptions that reflect life relationships, those of husbands and wives are naturally the most common. The famous speech by Metellus Numidicus the Censor, when encouraging the Romans to marry, doesn’t show a high regard for women. “If,” he said, “O Quirites, we could do without wives, we would all prefer to be free from the hassle; but since nature has set things up in a way that we can neither live comfortably with them nor at all without them, we should deal with a short-term inconvenience for the sake of a long-term benefit.” Gellius, who reports this speech, points out that it was not a very strong endorsement of marriage, and he suggests Metellus should have said that, in general, marriage has no troubles; that if any do arise, they are few, minor, and easy to handle, overshadowed by greater pleasures and advantages; and that the issues that do occur are not experienced by everyone, nor are they due to nature, but rather to the faults and injustices of husbands. Castricius, on the other hand, defended Metellus, arguing that as Censor, he was obligated to share the whole truth, which was recognized by everyone. On such a topic, it’s not fair to rely on books, which in ancient times at least, only present one side; or on satirists, who are all caricaturists and often bad-tempered; or on poets, whose lives were notoriously immoral; nor to judge the character of Roman women generally based on a few notorious examples of vice among the upper class. I believe we can gain a more accurate and positive understanding of the marital relationship in imperial times from tomb inscriptions. They come from the middle classes, which give moral character to a community; they are very numerous, and I truly believe in the testimony they provide about the overall happiness of married life.

The few inscriptions about women that have survived from the republican era reveal the practical, modest, and home-focused qualities valued in Roman matrons, though they also highlight the qualities of charming speech and graceful demeanor that complemented the more substantial virtues of women's character.

Hospes, what I have to say is brief: stand and listen.
Here lies the beautiful tomb of a lovely woman.
[Pg 42]Her parents named her Claudia.
She loved her husband with all her heart.
She had two children: one
she leaves on land, the other she lays beneath it.
With charming speech and graceful movement,
she kept the home and spun wool. That's all. Farewell.[92]

The same qualities stand out in a later inscription. HERE LIES AMYMONE, THE GREATEST AND MOST BEAUTIFUL DAUGHTER OF MARCUS, A WOOL WORKER, PIUS, MODEST, VIRTUOUS, CHASTE, AND DEVOTED TO HER HOME.[93] Intellectual achievements weren't ignored, though. Julia, the daughter of Lucius, who lived for 28 years, was a role model for other women in both her character and education, and a testament to her upbringing. Laurentius Ucsori.[94] The married life of the Romans seems to have been notably free from the domestic conflicts that Paley, according to a well-known story, thought were a useful remedy for its dullness. AN INCOMPARABLE WIFE, WITH WHOM I LIVED FOR 30 YEARS WITHOUT COMPLAINT; WITHOUT ARGUMENT; WITHOUT STRIFE; WITHOUT RIVALRY; WITHOUT ANY PAIN TO THE SOUL., are recurring tributes from husbands to their wives. Fabretti's collection has several inscriptions stating that this harmony lasted through half a century of marriage. [95] The monuments set up by wives for their husbands are fewer in number, but they express the same[Pg 43] acknowledgment of marital harmony. D.M. D. Junius Primigenius, who lived for 35 years, Junia Pallas erected this for her beloved and devoted husband, who treated her well, with whom she lived sweetly for 15 years and 6 months without any quarrels.[96] We find a husband marking on his wife's tomb his promise never to remarry. TEMPIUS HERMEROS BUILT THIS FOR HIS BELOVED WIFE (sic) WITH WHOM HE LIVED FOR 18 YEARS WITHOUT A DISPUTE. HE PROMISED HE WOULD NOT TAKE ANOTHER WIFE AFTER HER.[97] It's not uncommon to hear that the death of the wife was the first cause of sorrow she had ever caused her husband, as shown in this example from Rome. T. FL. CAPITO FOR HIS PURE AND DEVOUT WIFE, WHO DESERVED THE BEST FROM HIM, AND FROM WHOM HE HAD ONLY FELT PAIN FROM THE BITTERNESS OF HER DEATH.[98]

One inscription might suggest a different sentiment, a husband speaking of his wife on her tombstone, On the day of his death, I expressed my deepest gratitude to the gods and to people.; and the editor, Orelli, comments on it “mirum dicterium!”—a strange sarcasm. It would indeed be not just odd, but cruel, in the way he interprets it, but it surely allows for a more straightforward understanding that the husband had witnessed his wife suffering for a long time and was thankful for her release. This can be illustrated by another example. Omidia Basilissa lived for 25 years. After enduring long and various illnesses, she has been taken away from us. Farewell, poor soul. Macedon, her husband.[99] Such too was the meaning of the comfort that C. Publicius offers to his parents.

Tempera now, my father, with tears, and you, O greatest mother,
Stop crying: I don't feel the pain of death.
Life was the punishment; rest is ready for me in death.[100]

Death sometimes came quickly to ruin the chance for happiness. D. M. L. ARULENUS SOSIMUS MADE THIS FOR HIS BELOVED WIFE, CLODIA CHARIS, WHO IF SHE HAD LIVED LONGER, WOULD HAVE DONE NO WRONG TO EITHER PEOPLE OR GODS; BUT SHE ONLY SPENT FIFTEEN DAYS WITH HIM.[101] The following inscription beautifully conveys the hope that the harmony in which P. Manlius Surus and his wife lived might continue in their shared resting place; As the unity of living souls continues, may the unity of the dead find peace here.[102] It is sometimes noted on the tombs of mothers by their husbands or children, that they fulfilled the duty which the [Pg 45] philosopher Favorinus urged upon Roman matrons, [103] and which Tansillo and Roscoe recommended to the women of Italy and England, that of being both a nurse and a mother. The gracious Alexandria, a notable example of humility, who also breastfed her sons, was a proud wife. Licinia Processa, a devoted mother and gentle nurse, had raised Crescens.[104]

We see signs, though, of the impact of easy divorce. Northern folklore depicts a mother disturbed in her grave by her children's mistreatment, appearing in nightly dreams to scare their stepmother into treating them better; but a Roman mother lived to inscribe on her son's tomb that he had been poisoned by his stepmother. D. M. L. HOSTILI TER SILVANI ANN. XXIV. M. II. D. XV. TO THE MOST DEVOUT SON. WRETCHED AND IN ETERNAL GRIEF FROM THE BENEFIT (OR HARM) OF A STEPMOTHER.[105] Another marital tribute reveals a unique outcome of the same legal situation. T. Sentius Januarius and L. Terentius Trophimus together create a memorial for Hostilia Capriola.[106] She must have been married to one after getting divorced from the other; and since they both refer to her as Married well merits reward, we can assume the first marriage ended without any wrongdoing on her part. Such a situation might seem odd, even in those European countries where a divorced woman can sit at the table between her first and second husbands.

I will wrap up this topic of the "affectus conjugum" with a quote from a beautiful inscription said to have been discovered on a monument in Rome, which is illustrated in Gruter.[107] It seems to be a dialogue between Atimetus, a freedman of Tiberius Caesar, and his late wife (collibertæ et contubernali) Claudia Homonœa, where the husband expresses his wish to die and be with his wife again; the wife shares her hope that what was taken from her own life might be given to him. It has been met with some skepticism, though most critics acknowledge its authenticity. If it's genuine, it comes from the golden age of Latin literature; if it's the work of a scholar from the sixteenth century, it will still hold interest for an appreciative reader.

Tu qui procedi securo, un momento
Please stop and read these few words to me.

HOMONŒA.
Io, che ero stata preferita tra le belle,
Now, Homonœa, I am here, in this burial mound.
[Pg 47]Cui Pafiche ha dato bellezza,
And Pallas has taught in all the arts.
Non avevo ancora visto neanche dieci anni:
Envious fate has laid its hands on me.
Non mi lamenterò per questo, la morte è per me più triste
Of the pain for Atimeto, my husband.

ATIMETUS.
Se gli spiriti potessero essere pesati e i destini crudeli lo permettessero,
What if salvation could be redeemed through the death of another,
Qualunque ministro di vita mi sia dovuto,
I would gladly do it for you, dear Homonœa.
Ma ora, quel che posso fare, è fuggire dalla luce e dagli dèi
So that I can follow you, in early death, across the Styx.

HOMONŒA.
Risparmia la tua sposa, non scuotere la giovinezza con le lacrime,
And don't burden my fate with your tears.
Le lacrime non servono, e i destini non si possono muovere:
We have lived: there is only one way out.
Risparmia: in modo che tu non conosca mai un dolore simile,
And may all the gods fulfill your wishes.
E ciò che mi ha strappato, secondo la sorte, la gioventù immatura,
If it extends further for you, you will stay alive.

We know from the Latin poets that beloved animals were honored with a monument (“Lusciniæ tumulum si Thelesina dedit,” Martial, 7, 86). The following inscription on a pet greyhound is found in the “Anthologia:”—

Docta, daringly wandering through uncertain forests,
Climbing steep hills and provoking wild animals;
Never accustomed to being held by heavy chains,
Nor to suffer harsh blows on my pale body.
For I lay in the soft embrace of my lord and lady,
And I knew how to unwind on a tired bed.
[Pg 48]And more than was allowed, I spoke with a silent dog's mouth;
No one feared my barking. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

D. M. is even placed before the epitaph on a Barbary mare (equa Gætulica), named Speudusa (σπευδούσα), who is said to be as swift as the wind, “flabris compar.” Following the Greek example, the Romans assigned meaningful names to their race and chariot horses, many of which are recorded on the monument of Diodes, the driver of the Red Faction.[109]

There’s still a really intriguing topic suggested by the Roman tomb inscriptions: what was the state of religious feelings and beliefs among the people who created them? The natural emotions, coming from sources found in every human heart, will express themselves similarly across ages and cultures. However, there’s a significant difference in the religious faith and attitudes toward loss that are expressed, which are reflected on the gravestones. One notable contrast is evident when we compare ancient and modern inscriptions—specifically, the lack of any sense of acceptance of a higher power’s will or any recognition of a benevolent purpose in painful circumstances in the former. If the gods are mentioned at all, it’s usually in a way of complaint. The inscription “MANUS LEBO (levo) CONTRA DEUM QUI ME INNOCENTEM SUSTULIT” is a bold challenge to Providence. Cornelius Victor, who died at thirty-one, laments that his virtues didn’t grant him a longer life. “VIXI SEMPER BENE UT VOLUI. NEMINEM LÆSI. CUR MORTUUS SIM NESCIO”; meanwhile, Marsilia Stabilis expresses regret that her devout piety didn’t spare her from a common fate.

Si pietate aliquam redimi fatale fuisset,
Marsilia Stabilis first redeemed sarei. __A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

If we were allowed to feel impatience and complain, we might empathize with T. Claudius Hermes, who dedicated a monument, TO MERULA, A WIFE WHO DESERVES WELL OF HER HUSBAND, AND TO THE SWEETEST CHILD, CAMPILIO ALBUNO, WHOM THE ANGRY GODS GAVE TO ETERNAL SLEEP ONE DAY..[113] Antinous and Panthea, who inscribed on their infant daughter Isiatis's tomb the phrase, As much as they loved, this ends badly for the innocent., seem from their names to have been Greeks and likely took inspiration from the Greek poet Menander.[114]

Nor does the deceased speak from the tomb with[Pg 50] any words of comfort to those who are left behind, except that cold comfort, the “solamen miseris socios habuisse doloris.” C. Gavius Primigenius, who died at the age of seven, thus addresses his mother:—

Desist now, mother, from renewing your complaints with tears
For you’re not the only one who has felt such pain.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The idea that living longer could have been painful or unhappy is presented as a reason to avoid sorrow, like in the inscription for Lucia Toreuma, who died at just nineteen:—

Exiguo, vitæ spacio feliciter acto
I escaped the crime of your long, old age.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

There would be no trouble deciding between the two inscriptions below, where a deceased mother speaks to her surviving husband and children, which one comes from a pagan source and which one comes from a Christian source:—

Care marite mihi, sweetest daughter, farewell,
Always remember to give what is due to our graves.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Spare your tears, sweet one, for your living spouse
And don’t feel it’s wrong to cry in front of God.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Nor are there inscriptions that reveal the[Pg 51] emptiness of human desires and the deceitfulness of human dreams;—

Decipimur votis et tempore fallimur, et mors
Mocks our concerns; a worried life means nothing,

is a couplet that often appears.[119] Live happy, whoever you are. (whoever) YOU LIVE. LIFE IS A SMALL GIFT THAT HAS JUST STARTED TO THRIVE AND THEN SLOWLY FADES AWAY., conveys a similar message. The inscription on the tomb of Vettius Hermes, My mother gave birth to me; my mother welcomed me., is not very different from the biblical phrase, “For dust you are, and to dust you shall return.” The inscription, C. Pompeius Euphrosynus and his wife Junia Gemella took this from all their possessions., indicating that the grave they rest in was all they had kept of their belongings, reminds us of the saying, “We brought nothing into this world, and it is certain that we can take nothing out.”

These and similar feelings express truths that are universally acknowledged by people everywhere, and which can be found in many countries and various religions. We might particularly expect that the gravestones would provide a complete answer to the question of what the Romans believed about the state of man after death. The nearly universal practice of starting epitaphs with "Diis Manibus," or the abbreviation "D. M.," suggests a widespread belief in the continued existence of the spiritual part of a person. The "divine Manes" referred to the spirits of the deceased, who, according to those who believed in reincarnation, were waiting to join another body; or, as many thought, they lingered around the grave, very sensitive to any offense or neglect and pleased by signs of remembrance and affection; or, in another perspective, they were the governing deities of the spirit world, having control over its inhabitants. This must have been Furia Spes's understanding when she addressed a prayer to the Manes on her husband's tomb, requesting to see him in her dreams. "I BEG YOU, HOLY MANES, TO TAKE CARE OF MY HUSBAND AND PLEASE BE KIND TO HIM AT NIGHT SO THAT I MAY SEE HIM. AND ALSO MAY HE WISH TO ADD ME TO HIS FATE, SO THAT I TOO CAN REACH HIM MORE SWEETLY AND QUICKLY." How far the formal mention of the Dii Manes on tombs can be seen as evidence of the ongoing belief from which it certainly originated is a very difficult question to determine. Pliny, while he makes fun of the superstition, acknowledges that the belief exists. On the other hand, Juvenal claims that the belief in the Manes did not go beyond childhood:—

Esse aliquid Manes et subterranea regna——
And boys only believe in it when they're still untouched by bronze.
Sat, February 2, 149.

I should be cautious about the views of a poetic critic from his time, who tends to focus only on the aspects that justify his intense anger. I also don’t take the phrases “domus æterna,” “quies æterna,” and similar expressions as evidence against believing in an afterlife. These are found on Christian tombs and might refer to the body, which it was hoped would remain undisturbed in its peaceful resting place. It’s also natural to see the grave as a place of rest from the struggles and pains of life, without thinking it’s the ultimate conclusion of a person’s journey. Even the inscription, D. M. AND ETERNAL SLEEP. FOR THE SECURITY OF MEMORY [Pg 54] PERPETUA AELIA FLAVIA MELITANA,[122] might not imply the disbelief that the term “eternal sleep” suggests to us. At least T. Claudius Panoptes, who set up a monument for his two daughters based on a vision (ex viso), should not be counted among the doubters, as he posed this challenge to skeptics on their tomb: If you, who are reading and doubting that you will remain, make a promise, call upon us, and you will understand.[123] On the other hand, it’s undeniable that many inscriptions reflect a very Epicurean mindset. Friends, while we live, let’s live. is more about enjoying life than improving it. The inscription on the tomb of Publius Clodius, WHAT I HAVE EATEN AND DRUNK BELONGS SOLELY TO ME, seems to be inspired by that of Sardanapalus.[124] Such openly expressed sentiments shock our moral sensibilities. Even the most dedicated modern follower of luxury and pleasure wouldn’t emulate Claudius Secundus in stating, HERE IT HAS EVERYTHING. BATHS, WINE, AND LOVE DESTROY OUR BODIES. BUT BATHS, WINE, AND LOVE GIVE LIFE.[125] Public opinion, and indeed public authority, now impose limits on the expression of irreligious or immoral views that were [Pg 55]unknown to the more openly spoken Romans. In reality, during the period our inscriptions come from, although there was a national cultus, there cannot be said to have been a national religion.

Even when their tombstones suggest a hope for an afterlife, it’s a kind of uncertain and hypothetical hope, just like the sentiment with which Tacitus ends his biography of Agricola. “If there is a place for the souls of the virtuous; if, as the wise believe, great souls do not perish with the body, may you rest in peace.”

Suscipe now, partner, if any sense remains after death,
Pay the dues owed to the sacred Hands.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

The expression of a more confident hope, as in the two following inscriptions, doesn’t rule out the possibility that it might be more poetic imagery than true religious faith. Atilia Marcella speaks on behalf of her deceased husband Fabatus:—

Terrene body, celestial spirit within me;
With this returning to its home, we now live there,
And enjoys eternal light in the heavens, Fabatus.[127]

The mother of Theodote comforts herself after losing her daughter, who was barely five years old.

Virgin, here lies the tender one, reader, have compassion;
This life barely witnessed a day of her existence.
Oh, how far she deserved a worthy life
Unfortunately, whose pain now continues endlessly—
[Pg 56]Still, however, there remain in such great sorrow
The comfort that those souls seek right away is in the stars.__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__

Overall, the evidence, even more negative than positive, from Roman tomb inscriptions strongly supports what both pagan and Christian writers said about the lack of a clear and practical belief in an afterlife during the first few centuries after Christ. Yet, few could calmly accept the idea of total annihilation. They searched elsewhere for the reassurance that neither religion nor philosophy could provide. Never was the practice of magic, spells, necromancy, and mysteries more widespread than when Christianity was gradually replacing ancient superstitions. It was clear that the time had come, and if the world wasn't going to be split between the followers of religious fraud and the followers of Epicurus, then divine light needed to shine down on earth.

Other inscriptions, which aren’t really tomb-related, show the same evidence of the decline of all genuine power in the old religion. Among all the religious artifacts in the Museum of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society, there isn’t a single one dedicated to Jupiter, Juno, Minerva, or any of the major gods of the popular faith. There is one for Hercules—a hero, not a god; one for Fortune—a personified concept; one for the Genius of the place—an elegant literary creation; and one for the imaginary god of the Emperor. The gods of the barbarians have clearly taken over from those of Greece and Rome. A legate of a Roman Legion notes that he has rebuilt a temple for the Egyptian Serapis from the ground up. A Roman commander must have built the cave where the secret rituals of the Asiatic Mithras were held. We have an altar for the protective goddess of Brigantia; for Viterineus, a local god near Hadrian’s Wall; and finally, for the god Arciacon, known only from this unique inscription. It’s clear that the popular religion was completely “a worn-out creed.” Art had made people familiar with human representations of their deities, and through the perfection of its tangible and material works, it had weakened belief in their spiritual existence and invisible power. Philosophy had revealed the absurdity of an anthropomorphic polytheism; poetry and theater had made the gods seem trivial. Nothing remained to inspire reverence or love: instead of helping, the popular religion hindered the mind's urge to link the ideas of infinity and divinity. But in the gods of barbaric nations, which lacked art and a mythology that turned gods into humans, there was something ambiguous, mysterious, and undefined; something the imagination could latch onto and easily attribute supernatural qualities to. Someone who looked at the Apollo of the Belvedere with no feeling other than admiration for the sculptor’s skill in capturing action and expression was filled with religious awe when viewing the blank faces and half-animal shapes of Egyptian deities. The spirit of Rome was accepting of all religions except the true one; a sincere belief in his own gods wouldn’t have stopped a Roman soldier from honoring those of the land he was stationed in, thus trying to gain their favor or avoid their anger. But this doesn’t explain the widespread worship of Phrygia and Thrace, Persia and Egypt, throughout the Roman empire. It was definitely a sign of a restless desire for something that could provide nourishment for the craving for religious faith present in the human heart, which turns to superstition when it can’t find anything purer to sustain itself.

Among the sights of modern Rome, there’s nothing more interesting than the long gallery of the Vatican known as Delle Lapidi. On the right wall, you’ll find the tombs and monuments of emperors, consuls, and military commanders, complete with their impressive titles; [Pg 59] along with inscriptions dedicated to the gods and their priests. The ornate decorations, intricately carved letters, and classical Latin all reflect the status of those who commissioned them or were honored by them. On the left side are the Christian monuments, mainly from the Catacombs, which served as a refuge and burial place for Christians during times of persecution and obscurity, and even as temporary homes. The gravestones are made from rough materials—not the fine Parian or Carrara marble or Egyptian porphyry; the writing is crudely done, with spelling and grammar revealing the humble background and limited education of those who created them. There’s no mention of the space designated for the grave, and no concern is expressed about ensuring the passing down of an inheritance or providing for future occupants. The Christian likely passed away believing that the second coming of their Lord, to summon the dead for judgment, would not be long delayed. The Roman citizen had three names; the Christian did not belong to any gens to stake a claim to lineage; he was a laborer, just one among millions. One simple name was enough to identify him; his grave might even be nameless—something quite rare for Pagan tombs. [Pg 60] How vividly this contrast illustrates the Apostle’s statement that “not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble were called.” However, there’s another aspect to this contrast. The Pagan monuments represent a fading and dying superstition; the Christian ones, a living and victorious faith—“the weak things of the world chosen to confound the strong.” Their inscriptions convey themes of resignation, peace, and confidence; their symbols, like the Good Shepherd, the Dove, the Anchor, and Noah's Ark, all express a similar spirit of peace, humility, and hope.

The field of what Germans refer to as Epigraphik, or the study of inscriptions within archaeology, is incredibly vast—so vast that it can be overwhelming. Italian scholars like Muratori and Maffei have been leaders in this area, producing enough work to fill a library. The inscriptions from Gaul and Helvetia, as well as those from Roman settlements along the Rhine and Danube, have been detailed in specialized publications. In our own country, they can be found in Horsley’s “Britannia Illustrata,” in the later works of Lysons,[Pg 61] in Dr. Bruce’s “Roman Wall,” and in Stuart’s “Caledonia Illustrata.” A major compilation of what was known at the start of the eighteenth century is the “Inscriptiones Antiquæ totius orbis Romani,” a four-volume folio initiated by Joseph Scaliger and expanded by the efforts of Gruter and Grævius. These, along with the folios by Fabretti and Reinesius, are essential for any archaeologist focused on inscriptions. General scholars will find an excellent selection in Orelli's work, which has recently been supplemented by a volume from Henzen.[131] The monuments are well-organized; they are presented clearly without being overwhelmed by annotations, and there is greater effort than in previous collections to differentiate between real and fake inscriptions. Nowhere has crafty deception been more prevalent than in the forgery of Latin inscriptions, particularly during the sixteenth century, when the revival of classical studies made ancient artifacts valuable, and the early stage of archaeological science made it easier to deceive. Among those who have rightly earned scholars' scorn for their forgeries, Pyrrhus Ligorius stands out as the most prominent. Ligorio was born in Naples and was a talented artist and architect who, despite having a keen interest in antiquities but little expertise, focused on collecting drawings of ancient buildings and duplicates of inscriptions and medals, which he then sold bound in volumes at high prices to generous patrons of learning in Italy at the time. Thirty-five of these imperial folio volumes are in the Royal Library of Turin, with others either in the Vatican Library or among the princely families of Rome. The lure of profit was too strong for his integrity, and finding it easier to invent than to research, he began forging inscriptions to complete his volumes. It is said that he didn't understand Latin, but either that's a misconception, or he received help from someone more knowledgeable: many of his forgeries show impressive skill, evident in their widespread acceptance. He often mixed fragments from different inscriptions or used names from the “Consular Fasti,” arranging them to give his creations an authentic appearance. There’s no doubt that he copied many inscriptions, but his dishonesty has tainted all that relies solely on his authority. He certainly isn’t the only person to have earned the disdain of [Pg 63] antiquarians and historians for corrupting historical evidence. Caution is essential when citing an inscription whose original is no longer available unless backed by reliable authority. However, some reputations that were damaged by suspicion of forgery in ancient inscriptions have been restored over time. Cyriac of Ancona was once considered a notorious fraud among scholars for claiming his fabrications were genuine ancient artifacts. Yet he is now recognized as having acted in good faith,[132] although his haste and ignorance may have led to inaccuracies and being misled by others. It has been confirmed that the collection of Spanish inscriptions attributed to him, which fueled serious allegations against him, was falsely published and wrongly associated with him.

Inscriptions have also been dismissed for their taste by critics, who didn’t fully consider that in a time when every other style had been tainted by pretentiousness and exaggeration, the lapidary style could hardly have kept its original qualities of modesty, conciseness, and simplicity.

Many sepulchral inscriptions, some of which have[Pg 64] been mentioned in the previous pages, are preserved in manuscript collections and have been included in the "Anthologia Latina," which was started by Scaliger and continued by Pithoeus; it reached its most complete form in the hands of Peter Burmann. About 400 sepulchral inscriptions are included in it, covering the period from the time of the Scipios all the way to the twelfth century after the birth of Christ, and naturally including many produced by Christian authors. Some more recent ones have been added to these collections; however, most demonstrate their authenticity through their unrefined language and disregard for the rules of prosody—mistakes that no modern scholar would allow themselves to make.

[Pg 65]

ADDENDUM TO PAGE 7, NOTE 2.

As I haven't seen anything about burial clubs among the Romans mentioned in any work on Roman history, I will provide some excerpts from the monument in question. It was discovered at Lanuvium, a town historically known for the worship of Juno Sospita, located about nineteen miles from Rome along the Via Appia. The residents of this town seem to have formed a group to pay divine honors to Diana and Antinous as a way to flatter Emperor Hadrian, during whose reign the marble was erected; this unusual combination highlights the poor state of the people and the soulless formality of the established religion, which could be exploited in such a way. The privilege of forming a college—or as we would say, a corporate body—was granted very sparingly and was highly regulated under the Emperors, who feared all secret associations as breeding grounds for treason. With the main goal of forming a college of the “Cultores Dianæ et Antinoi,” they also included the idea of a burial club, not forgetting the celebrations that were such a significant part of all religious practices among the Romans. To avoid conflicts, the association's laws were inscribed on marble and likely displayed in the temple of the two deities.

An amphora of good wine was to be given to the club by a new member; a fee of one hundred sesterces was to be paid as an entrance fee, and five asses per month as subscription. Their meetings were not to occur more than once a month. If anyone missed payment for ... months (the marble is here damaged), no claim could be made, even if he had specified it in his will. In the event of the death of someone who had consistently paid his subscription, three hundred sesterces were designated for his funeral expenses, of which fifty were to be set aside for distribution at the cremation of the body. The funeral was to be a walking one. If someone died more than twenty miles from Lanuvium, and his death was announced, three delegates from the college were to travel to the place where he died to conduct the funeral and report back to the people. Fraud was to incur a penalty of four times the fine. The delegates were to receive twenty sesterces each for travel expenses for both going [Pg 67] and returning. If the death occurred more than twenty miles from Lanuvium and no notice was given, the person who conducted the funeral was to send a sealed certificate, verified by seven Roman citizens, and upon presenting it, the usual amount for expenses would be provided. If a member of the college left a will, only the named heir could claim anything. If he died without a will, the quinquennales, or magistrates of the municipium, along with the community, would decide how the funeral should be conducted. If a member of the college who was in the status of a slave died, and his body was not released for burial due to the wrongful actions of his master or mistress, his funeral should be held by carrying his bust in a procession. No funeral was to be arranged for a suicide. There are many other rules aimed at maintaining order and fostering good relationships, but these are the only ones related to the burial club. I include extracts from the original. The purpose of the incorporation of the college is thus declared:—

This interesting document offers further evidence of how much ancient life resembles modern life when we gain insight into its reality through its monuments. This way, traditions and practices that are believed to be unique to recent or medieval times can be traced back through Rome and Greece, all the way to the sources of civilization in Egypt and the East.

THE END.

Woodfall and Kinder, printers, Angel Court, Skinner Street, London.

The land where the Museum, Library, and Lecture Theatre, along with the Botanic Garden and Observatory of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society, are located was originally home to the monastic buildings of St. Mary's Abbey. Part of these buildings was used for the court and palace of the Lord President of the Council of the North. The oppressive actions of this Council, particularly under the leadership of the Earl of Strafford, played a significant role in the downfall of both the Earl and his royal master. This notable history of occupancy inspired the following inscription, where it’s clear that the term in the ninth line refers specifically to monastic practices, not to the broader religion of the Middle Ages.

QUO· PRIMUM· LOCO
CŒNOBIUM· BEATÆ· VIRGINIS· MARIÆ
THEN· THE· ROYAL· PALACE· STANDS
IN· THE· COUNTY· OF· YORK
THIS· BUILDING· WAS· ERECTED· WITH· COLLECTED· FUNDS
AND· DEDICATED· TO· THE· STUDIES· OF· ALL· DISCIPLINES.

YOU· WHO· READS· ACKNOWLEDGE
THE· FORTUNES· OF· OUR· AGE
WHERE· HUMAN· SPIRITS· ARE· FREED· FROM· SUPERSTITION
AND· TAME· THE· VIOLENCE· OF· TYRANTS· WITH· LAWS
HERE· IN· THESE· VERY· SEATS· IT· HAS· BEEN· PERMITTED· FOR· PHILOSOPHY
TO· MAKE· ITS· HOME.

Publications by Rev. John Kenrick.

An Essay on Ancient History.

Price £5.

Ancient Egypt During the Pharaohs.

2 Vols. 8vo. Price £30.

PHOENICIA.

1 Volume with Maps and Illustrative Plates. Price £16.

Phœnicians, a clever people known for their exceptional skills in war and peace; they pursued literature and the arts, sailed the seas with their ships, engaged in naval battles, and commanded nations through their ideas.—Pomp. Festival, I. 12.

LONDON:

T. Fellowes, Ludgate Street.

References:

[1] The tomb of the Scipios on the Appian Way was discovered in 1780, and its inscriptions have been documented by the two Viscontis. They are now in the Vatican. The oldest of these, that of L. C. Scipio Barbatus, dates back to the early third century BCE

[2] See Proceedings of Yorkshire Philos. Society, vol. i. p. 53.

[3] Hieronym. to Es. 7, 14. Augustine Tract. 15 in Gospel of John.

[4] Kirchmann de Funer. Rom. c. 20, 21. Dodwell, 1, 428.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Sylv. 2, 2, 13.

[6] C. Nep. Att. 22. Vict. Epit. 60.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ H. E. Smith, Isurian Relics.

[8] Morcelli de Stylo Inscr. Lat. p. 363. Orelli, Inscr. 3998, 9. The Romans also had their burial clubs. Check out the rules for one, Henzen, 6086.

[9] Plin. N. H. 1241. Experts agree that Arabia doesn’t produce as much yearly yield as Nero burned on the last day of his wife Poppaea. Juv. Sat. 4, 108. “Sweating in the morning, Crispinus, like a perfume, how faintly do two funerals smell.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 230.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Archaeology, vol. 26, p. 270.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 898. Orelli, 6237.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthology 4, 271.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen, Inscr. Neap. 4135.

[15] Henzen, Suppl. to Orell. 6976, 7.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 612.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4859.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Reines, p. 1000.

[19] The different and unsatisfactory theories from scholars about this phrase can be found in Facciolati s. v. Ascia. It appears particularly on monuments in Lyons and Southern Gaul.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Reines, p. 763.

[21] Gruter, pp. 844, 862. Augustus prohibited his daughter Julia from being buried in his monument.—Sueton. Octavianus, c. 101.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4397. Fabretti p. 91.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 762, 5.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4390.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4360.

[26] Morcelli, de Stilo Inscr. p. 103.

[27] Meyer, Anthol. Lat. 1178. The inscription is unique: “To Semiramis Licinia, whom I cherish as a daughter, for her merits while alive, I honored her with a living tribute.”—Orelli, 4676.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 607, 1.

[29] Reines, p. 388, 53. We find (Gruter, p. 399, 1) ten jugera of land bequeathed “in the name of guardianship.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4070.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 232.

[32] Medicus jumentarius. Orelli, 4229, 4231. Valeria Verecunda is referred to on her monument as “Iatromeia (physician-midwife) of her region, the first.”—Grut. p. 1110.

[33] Gruter, p. 1148, Petron. Arb. p. 388. I’ve formatted these lines as hexameter and pentameter, which seems to be their intended style, even though the author struggled with these forms. Prosody mistakes are quite common in poetic inscriptions, and prose and verse are often strangely mixed together.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 715.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. Lat. 4, 155.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Meyer Anthol. 1438.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 2990.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. 4, 101.

[39] From a monument recently found in Lambæsa, Northern Africa. The omission of magis before quam is common in Latin authors, especially Tacitus.—See Germ. 7. They believe it’s better to give up ground to strategy than to fear. A similar accusation of death by magic appears on the grave of a four-year-old boy in Verona.—Maffei, Mus. Veron. 170.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Mommsen, Inscr. Neap. 4870.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 831, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4600.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 340.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Nat. Hist. 29, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4944.

[46] See Priscian, vi. 1, who quotes from ancient Latin authors, monetas for monetæ; escas for escæ; and vias for viæ.

[47] Orelli, 2778. He notes, “jacit is also found in other British sources.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4544. Two brands.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Prisc. vi. 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. Meyer, 1424.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 572.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, pp. 113, 575.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Quinct. 1, 5, 20.

[54] B lacks deep passion, nor does it fully possess it. Prisc. 1, 5, 26.

[55] Ab scala Mediana. Orelli, 3093. Grammarians criticize using scala in the singular as incorrect. (Quinct. 1, 5, 16). M. Abudius Luminaris, who erected this monument, married his own freedwoman; "Patronus idemque conjux." There are inscriptions from freedmen to patronæ, who were also their wives. Such marriages were prohibited by Severus, unless approved by a judge; and when the patrona was of such low status, "ut ei honestæ sint vel liberti sui nuptiæ." Fabretti, p. 290. Anicia Glycera (Orell. 4649) expresses her gratitude to her husband, "qui ex imo ordine ad summum me perduxit honorem," as he had elevated her from slavery to being his wife. The Greek slave often had better manners and culture than the Roman master.

[56] Spon. Misc. p. 143. There has been a significant debate concerning the doctors in Rome—whether they were slaves; the monuments indicate that they were usually Greek freedmen.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 2645.

[58] P. 239. Juv. 5, 170. A version of the caput rasum still seems to be the standard outfit for clowns.

[59] Grut. p. 312, 7. Juv. 2, 112. Quinct. 11, 3.

[60] Check out Smith’s Dictionary, s. v. Bathyllus, for a description of the furore of the Romans regarding pantomime performances and the ups and downs of their popularity based on imperial support or bans.

[61] L. Marius Austus Enuntiator from the Greek stage. Orelli, 2614.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Grut. p. 637, 1.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Hist. 8, 10.

[64] Grut. p. 332. The contest happened in CE 110.

[65] Mai Auct. Class 5, p. 414.

[66] Anthol. iv. 357. Lucian, On Dancing—You see a man in feminine attire, dressed in soft clothing and surrounded by suggestive songs, imitating the seductive women of old, like Phædra, and Parthenope, and some women from Rhodope. It is likely a more accurate depiction of what pantomime really was, compared to Lucian's somewhat serious defense, which portrays the theater as a place for self-discovery and self-discipline, and the dancer's training as a journey through mythology and poetry.

[67] Bulletino dell Istit. Arch. 1838, p. 165. The inscription reads, “Atistia, my wife, was an excellent woman, and her remaining body parts are in this container.” —Henzen, 7268.

[68] Maitland on the Catacombs, p. 138.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Arch. Journal, 4, 55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ p. 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, pp. 926-8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 904.

[73] Fabretti, p. 560, who notes, “Among the many sepulchral inscriptions, very few are found that mention someone who lived to a great old age.”

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4849.

[75] This is the otherwise elegant epitaph for Fl. Merobaudes, from the year 435 CE “To a brave and knowledgeable man, equally skilled in taking actions worthy of praise as in praising the actions of others. Distinguished from his military experience, he excelled in eloquence, surpassing the efforts of the idle, and showed equal dedication to both virtue and rhetoric as if they were the same. He cultivated his talent like his bravery, exercising both style and sword, never allowing his mind's strength to wither in shadows or hiding places. He fought both with arms and literature, sharpening his eloquence in the Alps. Thus he earned not a trivial wreath or idle ivy as a reward, but the honor of the Heliconian crown, and a statue cast in bronze, which ancient tradition honored for men of rare merit, whether proven in battle or distinguished among poets.” This inscription was carved on the base of a statue uncovered from the Forum Ulpii in Rome, at the beginning of this century. Fragments of Merobaudes' poetry, along with his Panegyric on the consulship of Aëtius, have been discovered by Niebuhr in a manuscript at St. Gal and are published in the Corp. Script. Hist. Byzant. vol. xxiv. The Christianity of Merobaudes, like that of Boethius, is unclear.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Henzen, 7374.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 624.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 654.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. Meyer, 1228.

[80] Eckhel, Doctr. Num. pl. II. vol. v. p. 90.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4657.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. vol. 4, p. 231.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 718.

[84] Gruter, p. 1000. Anthol. iv. 222.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. vol. 4, 265.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. vol. 2, p. 466.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4609.

[88] Orelli, 2813. Several examples can be found in Gruter, p. 663. Tata, meaning father, is still used among the lower classes in Rome. See Bunsen, Philosophy of Universal History, vol. i. p. 103.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 2815.

[90] Gruter, p. 733, 9. More accurately in Meyer, Anthol. 1403.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Attic Nights 1, 6.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 769, 9.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 252.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4658.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 267.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 797.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4623.

[98] Fabretti, p. 275, where many similar examples are gathered.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 813, 3.

[100] Gruter, p. 1036, 2. There are liberties taken with the rhythm in this, as in other poetic epitaphs.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 758, 4.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 435, 2.

[103] Check out his encouragement in Gellius, Noct. Att. 12, 1.

[104] Fabretti, p. 187. It’s clear that hand-feeding was also common among the Romans, as shown by the existence of clay bottles used for this purpose. The Museum of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society has several examples of them. See also the Abbé Cochet’s Normandie Souterraine, p. 130.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4604.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 2660.

[107] Gruter, p. 607. Meyer, Anthologia, 1274.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Antholog. vol. 4, p. 402.

[109] Gruter, p. 337. Comp. Gibbon, c. xl. 2.

[110] Gruter, p. 820. The raised hands in protest are carved on the monument.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 908.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Reines, p. 709.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4796.

[114] When the gods love someone, that person dies young. Menander, Twice Deceived. Gruter, p. 688.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 4829.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, 4852.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Same source, 5070.

[118] Maitland on the Catacombs. Its date is A.D. 472.

[119] Gruter, p. 677, 12. Orelli, 4845.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 786, 5.

[121] After burial, various mysteries of the dead. For everyone, from the day of their death, there is no more sense or connection to the body or soul than there was before their birth. This same vanity continues to exist in the future and even creates a life for itself in the time of death; at other times it claims the soul is immortal, sometimes suggests transformation, and at other times gives the sensation of an afterlife, worshiping the dead and making a God who has now ceased to be human, 7, 55.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 751, 3.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Orelli, 7346.

[124] Cic. Tusc. v. 35. A similar inscription is given by Morcelli, p. 431. D. M. T. Flavius Martialis H. S. E. What I ate and drank, I have with me; what I left behind, I lost.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 615, 11.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 80.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Gruter, p. 772, 8.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Anthol. vol. 4, 131.

__A_TAG_PLACEHOLDER_0__ Fabretti, p. 545.

[130] Maitland, Church in the Catacombs, p. 10.

[131] A comprehensive collection of selected Latin inscriptions. Edited by Jo. Casp. Orellius. 2 volumes. Zurich, 1828. The third volume was edited by William Henzen. Zurich, 1856.

[132] See Orelli, vol. I, p. 35, who quotes Tiraboschi's History of Italian Literature, T. VI. P. I. p. 263. Ed. di Milano.

[133] A helpful and important edition has been released under the following title:—Anthologia Veterum Latinorum Epigrammatum et Poematum. Edited and expanded by Heinrich Meyer, from Zurich. Volume II. 8. Leipzig, 1835.