PDF - UWA Research Portal

ROMAN BRITAIN:
ITS PEOPLE
Pamela Lynch
B.A. (Hons.) (UWA)
This thesis is presented for the degree of Doctor of Philosophy
of
The University of Western Australia
School of Humanities (Classics and Ancient History),
December 2007
ii
ABSTRACT
This thesis utilises the evidence from mortuary archaeology to explore the
identity of the inhabitants of Britain during the period of Roman rule. It
assimilates burial evidence from diverse sources both published and
unpublished and integrates it with other material and literary evidence to
investigate the people of the province and examine aspects of their lives. By
assessing the extent and reliability of the mortuary evidence and by combining
this evidence from major cemeteries, smaller burial sites and individual or
isolated burials it has been possible to determine aspects of their lives from a
different perspective than that previously employed.
The thesis has been divided into five parts. Part 1 (chapters 1 to 3) serves as
an introduction. Part 2 (chapters 4 and 5) considers the evidence available
while Part 3 (chapters 6 to 8) focuses on specific groups within the population.
Part 4 (chapter 9) looks at instances of death and burial that differ from the
norm and Part 5 (chapters 10-12) presents a picture of the daily life of these
people. The study concludes with a summing up of the evidence and a look at
the future of mortuary studies of Roman Britain.
The introductory chapters set out the objectives of the dissertation, look at the
work that has already been done in this area and evaluates the need for a
synthesis of the available evidence. The scope of the project, both temporally
and geographically is outlined in chapter 2. The third chapter takes a look at
the contemporary written evidence available, in the form of literary and
epigraphic contributions, and assesses its reliability as an indicator of the
appearance and lives of the Romano-Britons. This survey looks not only at the
Roman view of the natives of the province but extends beyond the Roman
period to examine the literary evidence that is available from the subsequent
centuries.
iii
Chapters 4 and 5 take an in-depth look at the evidence available on the people
of Roman Britain. The extent of the burial evidence is reviewed in chapter 4
while chapter 5 deals specifically and in depth with how this evidence can be
utilised. The skeletal evidence is assessed for its extent and reliability. Factors
affecting the survival of the remains is appraised and the effects of the biases
created by such differential survival considered. Grave-goods and the
organisation of the cemeteries are brought into the evaluation and the
strengths and weaknesses of all of the evidence evaluated.
The following chapters (6 to 11) focus on discrete aspects of the population.
Chapters 6 to 8 look at the representation of specific groups within the
community - the young, the elderly and those who arrived from other parts of
the empire. With the aim of providing an indication of the diversity of both
the composition of the population, the communities they represent and the
associated burial rites, chapter 9 examines some of the more distinctive burials
from Britain during this period. An area of intense interest, decapitation
burials provides the focal point of this chapter.
What may appear to be more mundane aspects of the lives of these people
occupy chapters 10 to 12. What kept them busy, their occupations and their
pastimes is viewed from the perspective of the burial evidence in chapters 10
and 11, while chapter 12 examines the mortuary evidence, in the form of
funerary art and the remains of clothing, hair and accessories for their
appearance.
iv
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
In writing this thesis I am reminded of how little I actually know and of how
much I rely on the experience of others. If what I have produced in any way
helps those whose research may follow then the kudos must go to others as
well as myself. On both a personal and a professional level I have been
fortunate, over a number of years, to have had the assistance and the support
of a great number of people. To them all I owe a huge debt of thanks.
Firstly, a big thank-you to my supervisor Professor David Kennedy, who
pushed when I needed pushing, left me alone when I didn’t and, when all else
failed, coerced me with the promise of bubbly at the end. Also to the teaching
and administrative staff from the Classics and Ancient History Department at
the University of Western Australia for providing a welcoming and
encouraging atmosphere throughout my under-graduate and post-graduate
years, particularly Margrit and Sheree. I must also make mention of the
contribution of the Centre for the Advancement of Teaching and Learning at
UWA for allowing me to participate in the Post-Graduate Teaching Internship
scheme and to my fellow participants for the stimulating and encouraging
atmosphere they provided.
As with all research, my efforts would have been in vain without the willing
assistance of many professionals and organisations. To Michael Fulford,
Dorothy Watts, Mike Bishop, Robin Birley, and Peter Carrington go my
grateful thanks for your willingness to correspond. Thanks also go to Brian
McEvoy of Trinity College, Dublin for corresponding with me on the
intriguing subject of the genetic connections between the European mainland
and Britain and to Richard Buckley and Lynden Cooper from Leicester and
Michael Jones from Lincoln for the burial information from their areas.
Thank-you to all of the record offices in Britain who were kind enough to
allow me access to their records and to their staff who spent the time and
v
effort to help me, particularly Alison Tinniswood, Colin Pendleton, Suzy
Blake, Jan Allen and Mike Hemblade. To Fraser Hunter of the Royal Museum
of Scotland, Edinburgh and to Lawrence Keppie of the Hunterian Museum,
Glasgow, I am grateful for personal discussions held during my visit to the
UK in 2004.
Thank-you to the York Archaeological Trust. To Patrick Ottaway for his
initial assessment report on the Driffield Terrace site and particularly to Katie
Tucker, for her personal insights and for allowing me pre-publication access
to her report on the human remains from the site.
My greatest thanks though must go to those people who had faith in me, kept
me going and wouldn’t allow me to give in. To mum, who sadly didn’t get to
see me ‘reach the end’ and dad, thank-you for being there and still believing
in me. To Sue, who kept reminding me of the time limit and to Dawn who has
seen me through the last ten years and knows what it’s like, thanks.
I owe an enormous debt – and several bottles of wine – to Maire, for her
invaluable support, encouragement and practical assistance
Most importantly my appreciation and my heartfelt thanks go to the two
people without whom I wouldn’t be where I am today. To my two best
friends, Kathy and Steve, for your encouragement, for getting me through
those difficult times and for simply being there when I needed you, you both
have my gratitude, my respect and my love ☺.
vi
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
_______________________________________________________________
List of figures
xiii
Glossary
xxi
Abbreviations
xxiv
Map of the major cemeteries of Roman Britain
xxv
PART 1: INTRODUCTION
1-32
CHAPTER 1: OBJECTIVES
2-10
1.1
Introduction
2
1.2
Preface
2
1.3
Thesis overview
7
1.4
Approach and methodology
9
CHAPTER 2: SCOPE
11-14
2.1
Time frame
11
2.2
Geographical boundaries
13
CHAPTER 3: THE WRITTEN EVIDENCE
15-32
3.1
Introduction
15
3.2
Literary
15
3.2.1
Caesar
16
3.2.2
Tacitus
20
3.2.3
Further written works
23
3.2.4
Discussion of literary evidence
25
3.3
Tombstones
25
3.4
Writing tablets
29
3.5
Miscellaneous written evidence
31
vii
3.6
Discussion of written evidence
32
PART 2: BURIAL EVIDENCE
33-83
CHAPTER 4: EXTENT OF THE EVIDENCE
34-66
4.1
Introduction
34
4.2
Pre-Roman Iron-Age burials
35
4.3
Extent and reliability of the Roman evidence
39
4.3.1
How many people lived ….and died….in Roman
39
Britain?
4.3.1.1 Introduction
39
4.3.1.2 Population size
41
4.3.1.3 Mortality
43
4.3.1.4 Urban/rural split
45
4.3.2
How much evidence do we have?
46
4.4
Survival factors
47
4.4.1
Combined burial rites
47
4.4.2
Cremations
48
4.4.3
Inhumations
50
4.4.4
Destruction
51
4.4.5
Erosion
53
4.4.6
Recording and investigation
54
4.4.7
Early archaeology
55
4.4.8
Geographical factors
57
4.4.9
Excavation priorities
58
4.4.10 Other burial methods
62
4.5
65
Discussion of burial evidence
CHAPTER 5: HOW CAN THE EVIDENCE BE
67-83
USED?
5.1
Introduction
67
viii
5.2
Skeletal evidence
67
5.2.1
Gender determination
69
5.2.2
Age determination
70
5.2.3
Health
72
5.2.4
Population affinity
76
5.2.5
Discussion of skeletal evidence
77
5.3
Gravegoods
78
5.4
Cemetery organisation
80
5.5
Discussion – strengths and limitations of burial
82
evidence
PART 3: PEOPLE
84-196
CHAPTER 6: THE YOUNG
85-141
6.1
Introduction
85
6.2
The history of childhood
87
6.3
The evidence of children
88
6.4
The mortuary ‘invisibility’ of children
90
6.5
Defining the term ‘child’ for Roman Britain
93
6.6
Infants
95
6.6.1
Infanticide
96
6.6.2
Burial rites of infants
101
6.6.3
Infant burials associated with buildings
104
6.6.4
Random infant burials
108
6.7
Children
111
6.7.1
Introduction
111
6.7.2
Family
114
6.7.3
Gravegoods
120
6.7.4
Coffins
126
6.7.5
Health and diet of children
129
6.8
Discussion – evidence for the young
137
ix
CHAPTER 7: THE ELDERLY
142-168
7.1
Introduction
142
7.1.1
Defining ‘elderly’ or ‘old’
142
7.1.2
The Roman view
144
7.2
Life expectancy in Roman Britain
145
7.2.1
Tombstone evidence
147
7.2.2
Skeletal evidence
148
7.2.3
Cemetery evidence
149
7.2.4
Discussion
150
7.3
Seasonality of death
151
7.4
Gender bias in the burial record of the elderly
153
7.5
Health
156
7.6
Elderly individuals
158
7.7
Commemoration of the elderly
163
7.8
Discussion – evidence for the elderly
165
CHAPTER 8: IMMIGRANTS
169-196
8.1
Introduction
169
8.2
Tombstone evidence for immigrants
174
8.3
Skeletal evidence for immigrants
183
8.4
‘Foreign communities’
188
8.5
Discussion
191
PART 4: ALTERNATIVE RITES
197-245
CHAPTER 9: THE UNUSUAL
198
9.1
Introduction
198
9.2
Cave burials
200
9.3
Decapitation burials
209
9.3.1
Introduction
209
x
9.3.2
Dating
212
9.3.3
Celtic Cult of the Head
215
9.3.4
Why decapitate?
218
9.3.4.1 Execution
219
9.3.4.2 Sacrificial
223
9.3.4.3 Transference of power
224
9.3.5
Treatment of decapitated bodies
226
9.3.6
Secondary burials associated with decapitations
229
9.3.7
Who were they?
231
9.3.8
Discussion of decapitation burials
233
9.4
Violence
234
9.5
Prone burials
241
PART 5: LIFESTYLE CONSIDERATIONS
246-296
CHAPTER 10: OCCUPATIONS
247-260
10.1
Introduction
247
10.2
Skeletal evidence
248
10.3
Grave goods
251
10.4
Epigraphic evidence
257
10.5
Discussion
258
CHAPTER 11: RECREATION
261-265
CHAPTER 12: COSTUME AND APPEARANCE
266-296
12.1
Introduction
266
12.2
Clothing
266
12.2.1
The Soldier
266
12.2.2
The Civilian
269
12.2.2.1 Introduction
269
12.2.2.2 Style
269
xi
12.2.2.3 Textiles
273
12.3
Footwear
276
12.4
Hair
279
12.4.1
Introduction
279
12.4.2
Style
280
12.4.3
Discussion
288
12.5
Hair accessories
289
12.5.1
Headbands
289
12.5.2
Hairpins
289
12.5.3
Combs
290
12.6
Cosmetics and perfume
291
12.7
Mirrors
293
12.8
Discussion
295
CHAPTER 13: CONCLUSION
297-307
13.1
General conclusions
297
13.2
Future possibilities
305
AFTERWORD
308-309
APPENDIX 1
310
BIBLIOGRAPHY
311
xii
LIST OF FIGURES
______________________________________________________
Fig. no
Description
Fig. 3.1
Left-hand
Page no
image
commemorating
on
a
building
slab
19
the building of part of the
Antonine Wall, Royal Museum of Scotland,
Edinburgh (Photo. P.Lynch)
Fig. 3.2
The Cramond Lioness, depicting a barbarian
19
being devoured by a lion. Royal Museum of
Scotland.
Fig. 3.3
Above. Tombstone of M. Ulpius Quintus from
26
Gloucester (From Birley 1979: plates after
p.112). Right. Tombstone of M. Favonius Facilis,
centurion from the invasion army (From Birley
1979: plates after p.112)
Fig. 3.4
Distribution of figured tombstones from Roman
27
Britain (Sources: various)
Fig. 3.5
Tab.Vindol.11: 301. Letter from Severus to
31
Candidus
Fig. 4.1
Tribes of Britain in the 1st century A.D. (From
36
Jones and Mattingly 1990: 45)
Fig. 4.2
Estimated population of Roman Britain (From
43
Millett 1990: 185, Table 8.10
Fig. 4.3
Cremation and inhumation analysis by county
(Figures
compiled
from
local
Sites
48
and
Monuments records)
Fig. 4.4
Depth of grave pits in Lankhills Cemetery,
52
Winchester (After Clarke 1979: 133)
Fig. 4.5
Romano-British inhumations and cremations of
xiii
56
known excavation date, discovered in the 20th
century (After Mays, S. nd. and Bingham, A.
pers. Comm.. 2004)
Fig. 5.1
The human skeleton showing the major bones
68
(From Mays 1998: 2)
Fig 5.2
The femur on the left is a mature bone, that on the
71
right, an immature bone showing an unfused
distal epiphysis (From Mays 1998: 47)
Fig. 5.3
The humerus on the right shows severe
73
osteoarthritis, the humerus on the left is normal
for comparison (From Mays 1998: 130).
Fig. 5.4
Two skulls from Cirencester showing skull
75
wounds. The top skull shows evidence of a severe
gash that resulted in a triangular portion of bone
being depressed inwards while the bottom skull
has a narrow incised wound across the frontal
bone. (From McWhirr et al. 1982: 169-170).
Fig. 5.5
Cirencester (top) (From McWhirr et al. 1982:
79
206) and Canterbury (From Wacher 1987: 815
after Canterbury Archaeological trust) showing
the Romano-British cemetery areas.
Fig. 6.1
Distribution of tombstone inscriptions of children
90
with age at death in Roman Britain (From RIB 1)
Fig. 6.2
Fragment
of
a
Roman
tombstone
from
100
Gloucester. Inscription translatesas: Martialis, the
slave of […]lonius, aged 14, lies here.’ (From
Tomlin and Hassell 2005: 475)
Fig. 6.3
Infant burial found adjacent to one of the traders’
105
houses in Lincoln (From Jones 2002: 117)
Fig. 6.4
Examples of Romano-British child burials. Top.
Infant chalk burial (B831) Eastern Cemetery of
xiv
110
Roman London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000:
321). Middle. Stone lined child’s grave 108
Bletsoe (From Dawson 1994: 46). Bottom. Child
burial 18 Western Cemetery of Roman London
(From Watson 2003: 46).
Fig. 6.5
Distribution of age groups – Poundbury Cemetery
113
Site B. (From Farwell and Molleson 1993).
Fig. 6.6
Tombstone of Flavia Augustina from York (in
117
York museum) (Photo. P. Lynch)
Fig. 6.7
Tombstone of Julia Velva and her family from
118
York (in York museum) (Photo. P. Lynch).
Fig. 6.8
Artistic depiction of tombstone of Flavius
119
Callimorphus and Serapion from Chester (RIB 1:
558).
Fig. 6.9
Top. Gold jewellery from child’s grave at
121
Dartford, Kent, in British Museum, London
(Photo. P. Lynch). Bottom. Venus figurines from
child’s grave B392 Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 189).
Fig. 6.10
A reconstruction of the infant burial from
123
Baldock (From Burleigh et al. 2006: 281)
Fig. 6.11
Millefiori glass fragments from a child’s grave
125
(B392) Eastern Cemetery of Roman London
(From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 126).
Fig. 6.12
Decorated lead inner coffin of two-year-old child
128
from Colchester (From Crummy et al. 1993: 124125) (Top: Diagramatic representation of the
decoration).
Fig 7.1
Number of tombstones giving age at death over
147
50 years listed in RIB 1)
Fig. 7.2
Seasonal mortality: Rome (From Shaw 1996:
xv
152
120)
Fig. 7.3
Figures for males and females over 45 years in
155
Romano-British cemeteries (% figures are % of
the total of those surviving past 45)
Fig. 7.4
Ratios of males:females in the adult cemetery
155
populations and in those over 45 years.
Fig. 7.5
Artistic depiction of the skeleton of the
158
decapitated woman from Kimmeridge (From
Calkin 1947: 34)
Fig. 7.6
Burial 1354, an elderly woman, from Poundbury
161
Cemetery (From Farwell and Molleson: 1993: 38)
Fig. 7.7
Above left. Tombstone of Aulus Alfidius Olussa
164
(RIB 1: 9), born in Athens who lived to 70 years
of age. Above right. Tombstone of Gaius
Calpurnius Receptus (RIB 1: 155), Priest of the
goddess Sulis, from Bath, who lived to 75 years
of age.
Fig. 7.8
Tombstone from Lincoln of the veteran C. Iulius
167
Galenus, a veteran of the Sixth Legion (From
Jones 2002: plate 2).
Fig. 8.1
Letter from Severa to Lepidina (Tab. Vindol. 11:
171
291)
Fig. 8.2
Reconstruction of the tombstone of Gaius Julius
175
Alpinus Classicianus, procurator of Britain AD
60-61, British Museum, London (Photo. P.
Lynch).
Fig. 8.3
Diagramatic reconstruction of the altar-shaped
176
monument of Classicianus
Fig. 8.4
Tombstone of Regina from South Shields (Photo.
180
P. Lynch)
Fig. 8.5
Tombstone of Victor from South Shields (Photo.
xvi
181
P. Lynch)
Fig. 8.6
Reconstruction of the pediment of the temple of
Sulis Minerva, Bath.
193
Roman Bath Museum
(Photo. P. Lynch)
Fig. 9.1
Distribution of caves in England and Wales with
evidence
of
Romano-British
usage
201
(From
Brannigan and Dearne 1992: 39)
Fig. 9.2
Caves with burial evidence from the Romano-
204
British period (Figures extracted from Brannigan
and Dearne 1992: 82-113)
Fig. 9.3
Estimated ages of burials in Wookey Hole 4th
206
chamber cemetery (From Brannigan and Dearne
1992: 24)
Fig. 9.4
Decapitated burial dating to the late fourth
209
century from a cemetery at Stanwick (From Mays
1998: 174)
Fig. 9.5
Distribution of decapitation burials in Roman
210
Britain (Sources: varied)
Fig. 9.6
Excavation of decapitated skeletons at Driffield
211
Terrace, York (From York Archaeological Trust
web site)
Fig. 9.7
Stone heads from: left. Driffield Estate, York.
216
Middle. Hulme, Manchester. Right. Camerton,
Somerset (From Ross 1967: 87)
Fig. 9.8
Shackles around the legs of a decapitation burial
222
from Driffield Terrace, York (From York
Archaeological Trust website)
Fig. 9.9
Decapitated
burial
261
Derby
Racecourse
230
Burial B733 Eastern Cemetery of Roman London
232
Cemetery (From Wheeler 1985: 251)
Fig. 9.10
with the cranium displaced but the mandible
xvii
remaining in situ (From Barber and Bowsher
2000: 317)
Fig. 9.11
Multiple
burial
at
Bath
Gate
Cemetery,
236
Cirencester with burials 215 and 216 being
decapitated (From McWhirr et al1982: 86)
Fig. 9.12
Lindow Man (From Stead et al. 1986: 45)
241
Fig. 10.1
Medical instruments from the doctor’s grave at
253
Stanway (From Colchester Archaeological Trust
website)
Fig. 10.2
Tazze and lamps recovered from the bustum
254
burial in the Watling Street Cemetery. The fallen
gladiator lamp can be seen front row, third from
the right (From Mackinder 2000: 13)
Fig. 11.1
Set of gaming counters and the remains of a
262
gaming board from a cremation burial at
Stanway.
Fig. 11.2
Set of gaming counters and the remains of
262
gaming board as found with the set of surgical
instruments in the ‘doctor’s grave at Stanway.
Fig. 11.3
Top. Gaming set from grave 51 Lankhills
264
Cemetery (From Clarke 1979: plate 1). Bottom.
Gaming set of glass counters and bone dice from
burial B435 Eastern Cemetery of Roman London
(From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 135).
Fig. 12.1
Copper-alloy belt set from grave B538 Eastern
268
Cemetery of Roman London (Barber and
Bowsher 2000: 305)
Fig. 12.2
Decorative helmet, made of thin gilt bronze sheet,
269
found in the River Wensum at Worthing, Norfolk.
Norwich Museum (Photo. P. Lynch)
Fig. 12.3
Top. The ‘Gallic coat’ (From Wild 2004: 300).
xviii
270
Left. Tombstone of Philus from Cirencester
wearing the ‘Gallic coat’ (From Toynbee 1964:
Plate XLVII b )
Fig. 12.4
Tombstone of Aurelia Aureliana from Carlisle
271
(From Allason-Jones 1989: 113)
Fig. 12.5
Left. Tombstone of woman from Murrell Hill
272
(From Toynbee 1963: Plate 86). Right. Artistic
depiction of tombstone of Vacia, an infant, from
Carlisle (RIB 1: 961)
Fig. 12.6
Wall painting from Mausoleum R8 at Poundbury
276
Fig. 12.7
Above. The foot from a bronze statue discovered
277
during the excavation of a Romano-Celtic temple
complex
in
Southwark
(From
www//news.bbc.co.uk)
Below. Roman razor handle in the shape of a
human leg and foot found in the River Tees at
Percebridge (From www//news.bbc.co.uk)
Fig. 12.8
The Dying Gaul
281
Fig. 12.9
Reconstruction of Lindow Man
281
Fig. 12.10
The hair of a young woman from a gypsum burial
282
in York, York Museum. (Photo. P. Lynch)
Fig. 12.11
The remains of elaborately styled hair from the
283
Poundbury Cemetery (From Farwell & Molleson
1993: 147)
Fig. 12.12
Onyx cameo from Silchester (From Henig 1995:
284
75)
Fig. 12.13
Front view of female head showing the ‘sponge’
285
type hairstyle. Bath Museum (Photo. P. Lynch)
Fig. 12.14
Rear view of female head showing ‘sponge’ type
286
hairstyle. Bath Museum (Photo. P. Lynch)
Fig. 12.15
Bronze escutcheon from Brough-on-Humber
xix
288
(From Ross 1967: 96)
Fig. 12.16
Romano-British comb
291
Fig. 12.17
Glass bottle and glass perfume bottle from grave
292
B197 Eastern Cemetery of Roman London (From
Barber and Bowsher 2000: 128)
Fig. 12.18
Reconstruction drawing of an aryballos of the
293
type found in grave B4 Eastern Cemetery of
Roman London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000:
145)
Fig. 12.19
Mirror from a cremation discovered in Norwich
294
(From Gurney 1998: 25)
Fig. 12.20
The
highly
decorated
mirror
from
the
‘Durotrigian’ burial at Portesham, Doset (From
Fitzpatrick 1996: 51)
xx
295
GLOSSARY
_______________________________________________
LATIN TERMS
Alimentaria, child support in Italy
Auxilliaries, non-legionary troops
Beneficarius, soldier on special duties
Bucinator, trumpeter
Bustum, cremation site where the pyre is constructed over a grave-shaped pit
Centurion, junior officer commanding a ‘century
Coloniae, chartered towns in Italy and the provinces
Cornicularius, staff-clerk
Custos armorum, keeper of the armament store
Decurion, military commander
Ergo, therefore
Frigidarium, a cold plunge bath
Imperator, title of emperors
Iuridici, juridical officer
Lacticlavii, those of senatorial rank
Ludus duodecum scriptorium, Roman dice game
Ludus latruncularum, military style Roman game
Medicus ordinarius, a surgeon serving in the ranks
Mulus physicus, a mule physician
Optio, second-in-command to a centurion
Paelestra, an open space or courtyard attached to a public bath-house
Paenula, a type of cape, styled like a poncho
Pater familias, head of the household
Principia, headquarters building of a fort or fortress
Procurator, administrator, mainly of financial matters, of equestrian rank
Sagum, a type of cape draped around the shoulder and fastened with a brooch
Vexillarius, flag bearer
xxi
Vicus, Civilian settlement established outside the Roman forts
ARCHAEOLOGICAL TERMS
Aryballos, type of bulbous-bodied oil flask
Decapitation burial, body buried with the head removed from the rest of the
skeleton
GravecuttingIntercutting
Osteoarchaeology,
Palaeodemography, the study of the demography of ancient populations
Palaeopathology, the study of disease in ancient populations
Prone burials, body buried lying on its front
Supine burials, body buried lying on its back
Taphonomic process,
Truncation,
MEDICAL TERMS
Brachial artey, artery that carries the main blood supply to the upper limbs
Cortical hyperostosis, abnormal growth in the outer layer of the bones
Cranial suture, interlocking lines of fusion of the separate bones which unite
to form the cranium
Cribra orbitalia, see porotic hyperostosis
Deltoid insertion eminence,
Deltoid muscle,
Diaphyses, the shafts of the long bone
xxii
Enamel hypoplasia, lines on teeth formed as a result of disturbance to the
growth of dental enamel, generally accounted for by childhood disease or poor
nutrition
Enthesopathies,
Epiphyses, bony caps at the ends of the long bones
Epiphyseal union, joining of the epiphyses
Gluteal ridge, a point on the upper point of the femur where it attaches to the
gluteus maximus muscle
Harris lines, transverse lines on bones indicating an interruption to the growth
process
Hydrocephalus, an accumulation of fluid within the skull characterized by
enlargement of the head
In utero, within the uterus
Metopic suture, the join at the front of the cranium
Neonate, a new born baby
Ossification, the formation of bone or a bony substance
Parity,
Parry fracture, fracture incurred whilst warding of a blow, generally to the
ulna and radius
Peri-mortem, around the time of death
Perinatal, around the time of birth
Porotic hyperostosis, pitting on the bones of the skull, particularly the orbits
Pubic symphisis, the region where the left and right pubis join together.
Schmorls nodes,
Spondylosis, outgrowth of immature bony processes from the vertebrae,
reflecting the presence of degenerative disease and calcification. It includes
cervical and lumbar spondylosis
Squatting facets, small extension on the anterior of the tibia, talus and other
bones
Talus, the ankle bone
xxiii
ABBREVIATIONS
___________________________________________
CA
Current Archaeology
EH
English Heritage
RCHMY
Royal Commission on Historical Monuments in York
RIB 1
Roman Inscriptions of Britain: inscriptions on stone
SMR
Sites and Monuments records
xxiv
1.Lankhills
Cemetery, Winchester
2.Poundbury
Cemetery, Dorchester
3.Eastern Cemetery of
Roman London
4. Kimmeridge.
5.Bath
Gate
Cemetery,
Cirencester.
6. Guilden Morden.
7.
Racecourse
Cemetery, Derby.
8-9.Trentholme Drive
Cemetery,
Driffield
Tce Cemetery, York
10.Brougham
Cemetery.
11.Bletsoe
Villa
Cemetery.
12.Skeleton
Green
Cemetery.
13.Colchester
14.Queenford
Farm
Cemetery,
Dorchester-onThames
xxv
PART 1: INTRODUCTION
1
CHAPTER 1: OBJECTIVES
__________________________________________________________________
‘Oh that it were possible we might
but hold some two days’ conference
with the dead!’
The Duchess of Malfi (IV:ii.18) John Webster
1.1 Introduction
This thesis will look at what can be learned of the people of Roman Britain
through an analysis of the mortuary evidence. The approach will be twofold,
assessing firstly the extent and reliability of the evidence and then investigating
what this evidence can realistically tell us of the lives of these people. The study
will include an examination of the available literary and epigraphic evidence but it
is mainly from an investigation of mortuary archaeology that the bulk of the
evidence will come.
1.2 Preface
Prehistorians have for decades debated questions relating to the origins and
character of the people of Britain with theories ranging from successive waves of
invaders to cultural exchange with little or no movement of people. Only recently
has the fledgling science of archaeogenetics 1 begun to offer tentative answers to
the question, with investigation of genetic marker systems (Hill et al. 2000;
Renfrew 2001; Wilson et al 2001; McEvoy et al. 2004). In an archaeological
context, pre-historians have generally been at a disadvantage. The volume of
material evidence for the periods prior to the arrival of the Romans is extremely
limited. In a mortuary context, despite recent discoveries of some high profile
warrior/royal burials, evidence for the Pre-Roman Iron Age and earlier periods is
severely restricted. Dating of much of this material is also problematical with
implications for progression and tracing change, however, the Roman period in
1
The term archaeogenetics was proposed by Colin Renfrew for the new field of investigation
involving the application of molecular genetics to archaeology. This was in the introductory
2
Britain is in a much more favourable position. This is a period rich in
archaeological evidence from the whole of the empire, and Britain, with its long
tradition of intensive and high quality fieldwork is especially rich. New sites are
continually being discovered and, equally important, there is an evolving
insistence on a theoretical approach to the evidence. Artifacts survive in great
numbers and their preservation, in many cases, is to a high standard. The evidence
of the people themselves is also much more abundant. Human remains for this
period are constantly being discovered - as the recent discovery of the Roman
period ‘execution’ cemetery at Driffield Terrace, York portrays – and, because of
the well dated framework for the province and the rich artifact record, are far more
closely dateable than is common in prehistory. Mortuary archaeology of Roman
Britain benefits from a long tradition in classical archaeology with the meticulous
and full analysis and cataloguing of the artifactual evidence. The rich and well
studied artifacts commonly associated with burials enables close dating of the
burial context. This is something that can be seen yet again in the recently
published analysis of the important northern cremation cemetery at Brougham,
Cumbria where a lack of stratigraphy necessitated reliance upon dating of the
artifacts (Cool 2004: 18).
Analysis of burials from the past has generally been seen to augment the written
record. For the people of Roman Britain however, there are few written records of
any kind and it was the military history of Britain which attracted most attention
from Roman writers (Birley 2005: vii). Literary references are imprecise and
ambiguous with Caesar, in his commentary on his military campaigns to Britain in
the mid 50’s BC, and Tacitus, in his biography of his father-in-law Agricola, both
presenting sketchy and nebulous impressions of the population at this time. A
relatively small number of epigraphic examples survive, mainly in the form of
funerary commemorations and writing tablets. Tombstones from the province
number less than five hundred for a period spanning over three and a half
chapter to the publication of a series of papers arising from a conference, in September 1999, on
‘Human Diversity in Europe and Beyond: Retrospect and Prospect’ (Renfrew and Boyle 2000: 3).
3
centuries. Writing tablets, although discovered in greater numbers - with around
fourteen hundred being discovered to date from Vindolanda alone (A. Birley 2007:
pers. comm.) - and providing valuable information, focus predominantly on
military and administrative matters. There are, however, notable examples
providing evidence of a more social nature and these will be discussed.
As part of the empire Britain and its people would have been influenced by the
written word. Certainly writing would have been necessary in the province, for
recording, administrative, legal and military purposes, however, apart from the
writing tablets (see ch. 4.3.2) little confirmation of this has survived. History, by
implication, as opposed to pre-history, envelops periods for which we have a
written record. Roman Britain is an anomaly in this regard with its dearth of
written evidence and falls more into the proto-historical period – that period of
transition between pre-history and recorded history. The tradition of written
history is not evident in Britain until the fifth and sixth centuries with the accounts
of Gildas, Bede and the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle, or at least we have no evidence of
it prior to that time. The fact that Britain during the Roman period – a period of
almost four hundred years – even though exposed to writing, did not produce a
writer or historian that we know of is curious. Is this absence of written historical
work an indication of a minimal degree of romanization in the province, a sign of a
state of oppression or evidence of the destruction of Roman language and culture
by the invaders? Gildas, in his De Excidio Britonum, written around the mid sixth
century, believes that any literary remains from the Roman period in Britain
‘…such as they were [were] …burnt by enemies or removed by our countrymen
when they went into exile.’ These sentiments reflect the possibility of a
combination of factors at work which have resulted in such a deficient quantity of
evidence.
This scarcity of written information from the province means that most of the
evidence available on the people of Roman Britain is far more direct, that is the
physical remains of the people themselves. Explanation and interpretation of
4
archaeological data is now occupying the efforts of ancient historians and
archaeologists to a greater degree than ever before. The emergence of the annual
Theoretical Roman Archaeology Conference (TRAC) little more than a decade
ago heralded an increase in the significance of theoretical debate on the subject,
which has expanded the approach to Roman archaeology in Britain. This is evident
in the publication in recent years of several volumes, many being the outcome of
conferences, incorporating papers whose theme is Roman archaeology but whose
individual approaches vary widely. Some of these, including Burial, Society and
Context in the Roman World (Pearce et al. 2000) and Archaeologies of
Remembrance: Death and Memory in Past Societies (Williams 2003), deal
specifically with burial archaeology and offer an insight into the possibilities
which new applications of the data can provide. The stimulating collection of
papers in the former is evidence of an increasing focus on burials and mortuary
archaeology, yet a glance at its contents page serves to highlight the limited scope
that the subject in general seems to be adhering to. The focus is on social status,
religion and ritual, with a concentration on funeral rites as part of the burial
process. While these topics are undoubtedly of great significance there is still a
gap that needs addressing. Namely there is a necessity to utilise the information
from mortuary archaeology as evidence for the people themselves. To look at such
things as ethnic origin and appearance, to investigate some demographic concerns,
by considering how the young and the elderly are represented in the burial record
and to assess any evidence there may be for occupational and recreational pursuits.
Study of all of these areas has the potential to add to the overall picture of the
people of Roman Britain.
Early archaeologists generally considered archaeology to be mostly impersonal
and unconcerned with individuals. This unfounded, and indeed erroneous concept,
is gradually being rectified. With the discovery and excavation of several major
cemetery sites in the last few decades, and the publication of the reports, vast
amounts of information on the people themselves is being accumulated. These
reports, although often taking many years to appear, are becoming increasingly
5
more informative and are tending to include discussions on various aspects such as
pathology, specific grave goods and unusual burial practices. The report by Clarke
(1979) on the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester, began this trend and the most
recent publications, on the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London (Barber and
Bowsher 2000) and the 1960’s excavation of the Roman cemetery at Brougham
(Cool 2004), have provided enormous amounts of material which allow us to delve
into the lives of these people. The mere fact that it was considered necessary and
worthwhile to publish the Brougham report so many years after excavation lends
credence to the notion that mortuary archaeology is becoming a much more
recognised discipline.
Specialisation has produced articles on individual aspects of burial practices
during the Romano-British period – Dorothy Watts (1989, 2001) on infant burials
and women in Romano-British cemeteries, Valerie Hope (1997) on tombstones,
Fiona Crowe (1997) on the evidence of women in the cemetery population of
Roman Britain, Clive Davison (2000) on gender imbalances in the cemeteries and
Edward Biddulph (2005) on ceramic vessels found in a burial context, to name a
few. Mortuary evidence has also been used, along with other forms of evidence, in
more detailed studies of areas of high profile research - women (Allason-Jones
1989, Watts 2005), art (Toynbee 1963, 1964, Henig 1995) and the end of Roman
Britain (Esmonde-Cleary 1990, Jones 1996). Burials and cemeteries are usually
discussed in terms of the assertion of Roman ideas but there has been little
consideration given to the exploration of the identity and lifestyle of the population
through this medium. This would seem to be the next step in the application of
mortuary archaeology to the study of the Romano-British population.
The Romans made their mark on the landscape of Britain. They monumentalised
the province with their organisation of settlements, their public buildings and their
private residences, but what of the inhabitants? How extensive is our knowledge of
their lives? From the perspective of mortuary archaeology this study aims to
6
discover what we are realistically able to determine about the people of Roman
Britain and the lives they led.
1.3 Thesis overview
Mortuary archaeology is the main form of evidence to be used in this investigation
into the people of Roman Britain. The very nature of the study means that the
physical remains of these people will be foremost in the analysis. The process of
analysing the evidence will also involve looking at the graves of these people,
associated grave deposits, cemeteries and other burial areas. Literary and
epigraphic evidence will also be integrated into the study in order to provide a
broader view.
This thesis is divided into parts. Part 1 sets out the objectives and scope of this
thesis. The methodologies adopted and the approach to this research are outlined
and the limitations discussed.
Part 2 assesses the extent of the evidence for the people of Roman Britain, and its
reliability is considered. In the main this involves an evaluation of the evidence
from mortuary archaeology, however, literary and epigraphic evidence will also be
assessed. Consideration of the reliability of all of this evidence is paramount and is
discussed in detail. In this section it is also proposed to ascertain what information
can be extracted and to what uses it can be put. This involves evaluating the
significance of new scientific approaches to archaeological remains, particularly
human remains, as well as maintaining a balance by considering the importance of
previous mortuary studies and the implications for scholarship by combining the
two.
Part 3 looks at discrete aspects of the population of Britain during the period of
Roman rule. In order to achieve a broad outlook there was a need to be selective in
the categories addressed. The burial practices of Roman Britain were considered
by Philpott (1991) in his survey of grave treatment and furnishing, with the
7
inclusion of invaluable tables of grave contents and maps relating to the sites of
specific burial rites. The layout and contents of the grave and the treatment of the
body was well surveyed and discussed however his coverage makes no attempt,
beyond the assessment of age and gender, to utilise the human remains and the
burial population, a major feature of this thesis. Since his review several major
excavations and publications have resulted in a much expanded database of
evidence, and scientific advances have allowed a much more in-depth analysis of
many of these remains. The burial of women in the Romano-British period has
also been well covered in several comprehensive studies - Allason-Jones (1989),
Crowe (1997) and, most recently, Watts (2005). It was considered that further
coverage of the burial of women in a Romano-British context would simply be
reiterating information from these extensive studies. It was therefore decided to
concentrate this research in areas that have not yet attracted such detailed
discussions. The burial of the younger members of Romano-British communities
has been the subject of some consideration in recent years and has produced
stimulating debate, as has the extent of infanticide in the Roman world in general
(Harris 1982, 1994; Watts 1989, 2001, 2005; Mays 1993; Scott 2001). This thesis
will draw together evidence from as many Romano-British sites as possible and
assess the consistency of the burial rites accorded the infants and children (ch.6).
To begin with there is a need to distinguish between infants and children, as
viewed both in antiquity and in the modern world and to discuss the burial of each
group separately. The rites pertaining to the burial of infants during this period are
well known to differ from those regarding their parents. This will be discussed and
the reasons for it analysed. The prevalence of children in the cemetery populations
will be assessed and the statistics for the Romano-British period analysed against
those for other periods in pre-industrial England. I will then look at how their
burials may have differed, if at all, from those of the adults and what this may tell
us about the consideration given to this group within the population. Evidence for
the elderly in Romano-British cemeteries will then be discussed (ch.7). The only
major work to discuss the elderly in Roman Society is that of Parkin (2003). The
elderly of Roman Britain are as invisible as the infants are perceived to be. This
8
thesis will assess to what extent we may be able to identify them in the burial
record and what their remains may be able to tell us of their lives. Also to be
discussed are those who may have arrived in Britain from other areas of the empire
(ch.8) and the unique character of their burial evidence.
Part 4 looks at the evidence for those whose burials appear to have differed from
the norm, those who may have been on the periphery of society. There are those
who were buried in caves (ch.9.2), those who were decapitated (ch.9.3) or buried
in a prone position (ch.9.5) and those who seem to have been subjected to acts of
violence (ch.9.4). Part 5 addresses some lifestyle issues looking at burial evidence
pertaining to occupational and recreational activities (ch.10 and 11) and the
clothing and hairstyles of the Romano-British (ch.12).
1.4 Approach and methodology
As stated, the approach to this subject will essentially be through an assessment of
the evidence available from the burials of the inhabitants of Roman Britain. The
mortuary evidence for the Romano-Britons is abundant but varied and scattered.
Large parts of several major cemeteries have been excavated, smaller rural
cemeteries have been discovered associated with villas and farmsteads and the
burials of many small groups or isolated individuals have been chanced upon.
Published and unpublished reports of the major cemetery excavations and some
smaller sites offer raw data and discussion, however, many early or isolated
chance discoveries appear as little more than notations in the Sites and Monuments
record (SMR). Through necessity this thesis relies heavily on the published reports
of the major cemeteries. These include the cremation cemeteries at Skeleton Green
(Hertfordshire) and Brougham (Cumbria) and the inhumation cemeteries at
Lankhills (Winchester), Bath Gate (Cirencester), Butt Road (Colchester),
Trentholme Drive (York), Poundbury (Dorchester) and the Eastern Cemetery of
Roman London. The interim report by the York Archeological Trust on the
recently discovered cemetery at Driffield Terrace, York also provided invaluable
material. Unfortunately information on more than three hundred more skeletons
9
discovered at the Lankhills Cemetery in 2003/2004 is unavailable until the results
of post-excavation work become available in around 12 months time (Louise Loe
(pers. comm. 2007). The data from these sites have been supplemented by a
significant number of archaeological reports, both published and unpublished,
many of which were commissioned during work carried out in advance of
construction. To augment these reports we may then turn to the notes regarding
Romano-British burials to be found in the local SMR’s. Often frustratingly brief
and lacking in detail they are nevertheless an invaluable part of the mortuary
record of Roman Britain.
The inconsistencies in excavation and recording priorities and techniques between
sites, has resulted in an uneven level of information throughout the country. The
disparity in volume and value of the data is considered and assessed in the first
part of this thesis and taken into account when reconstructing the aspects of the
lives of those living, and dying, in this ancient society.
10
CHAPTER 2: SCOPE
The Romano-Britons?
What exactly do we mean when we speak of the Romano-British? Before
launching into a discussion of these people it is first necessary to establish some
parameters, both chronological and geographical.
2.1 Time frame.
When does the Late Pre-Roman Iron Age end and Roman Britain begin? Similarly,
when does it become post-Roman? The term Romano-British symbolises both a
time frame and a cultural identity. Technically the date of the Claudian conquest of
AD 43 sees the beginning of Roman Britain, the end usually being characterised
by the termination of the importation of significant amounts of Roman coinage
into the province between AD 400-410. The appearance of three usurpers in AD
406 ending with Constantine III and his removal of Britain’s soldiers to Gaul,
effectively opening Britain up to invaders, ultimately marked the end of the
Roman control of the province. From the point of view of the population however
the ending of Roman Britain, rather than being the removal of troops from the
province, was more realistically the point at which they no longer considered
themselves Roman and began to reject Roman lifestyle and culture.
Archaeologically, Romano-British as a time frame is difficult to define,
particularly in relation to mortuary archaeology. There is no sudden change in
burial practice in AD 43. Roman material culture had been influencing Britain for
some years and was already evident in some higher status burials prior to the
invasion. Welwyn type graves, in the territory of the Trinovantes and dated to the
late first century BC, after the campaigns of Caesar, show an accumulation of
imported luxuries from the Roman world. Yet others are still seen in the
archaeological record, at this time, and for some time to come, as Late Pre-Roman
Iron-Age. Burial practices continued in some areas with only minor variations
11
separating Romano-British from Iron-Age. Cornwall for instance was under
Roman control, but burial rites appear not to have been influenced to any great
degree, with Iron-Age cemeteries on the north coast continuing with little change
into the Romano-British period. The speed of the invasion forces’ progression
west and north and the establishment of military bases along the Fosse Way and
Ermine Street strongly suggests that any resistance from the local tribes was
quickly overcome. Tribal areas were more or less maintained with self-governing
capitals controlling these regions and local customs would have continued for
some time. There would have been no sudden change in the lifestyle and
perceptions of the local population. Changes were gradual and for many years
there was an amalgamation of customs with Iron Age and Roman being found in
the same archaeological context. Consequently, in looking archaeologically at the
people of Roman Britain, it is often difficult to distinguish the immediate preconquest period from the early Romano-British period. The end of Roman Britain
however is easier to determine in the mortuary evidence. Human remains begin to
appear within some city walls, implying a breakdown of Roman cultural
principles. Many of the major Romano-British cemeteries cease to be in use after
the first decade of the fifth century, in itself one of the indicators of a decreased
level of Roman influence. The earliest Anglo-Saxon cemeteries beginning to
appear around AD 420 (Jones 1996: 37).
The cultural barriers that existed in the middle of the first century AD between
native and Roman would have blurred and become ill-defined through the ensuing
generations. The distinction between native and Roman is made more by modern
scholarship than by the Romano-Britons. In analysing this group of people we
have found the need to distinguish between different cultural traits in order to
categorise. In reality it is less likely that the population would have made that
distinction.
Rather than using a specific time frame, say AD 43-410, when discussing the
Romano-British population it is far more appropriate to look rather at the period
12
that the Britons were influenced culturally by Rome. That is, bringing into the
equation the influence of Roman material culture and ideas on the native
population in the period immediately before the conquest and looking at the
decreasing level of Roman influence in the late fourth and early fifth centuries.
It should also be made clear that this study will include all of the people living and
dying in Britain throughout this period. The native population, the army, veterans
assimilated into the community and merchants and traders, many of whom married
local women and made their home in Britain.
2.2 Geographical boundaries.
The geographical boundaries of this study are defined to a certain extent by the
available evidence. This, in turn, is influenced by various survival and excavation
factors (see ch. 4.4), including discovery opportunities, excavation priorities and
financial restraints. However, lack of burials available for study in certain areas
should not be automatically attributed to these present day restrictions. The
possibility should not be discounted that burials in these areas differ from other
geographical locations owing to different burial rites and may be less likely to be
discovered.
The north of the province, northern Britain and southern Scotland, presents a
particular problem, that is a dearth of mortuary evidence stemming, in part, from
the absence of any significant cemetery excavations north of York. The recent
publication of the 1960’s excavations at the Roman cemetery at Brougham,
Cumbria has added to out database and now provides extensive evidence of a third
century cemetery where soldiers, their wives and children were buried. It is the
largest cemetery associated with a fort yet excavated in the north, providing
evidence of around 300 cremation burials. Cemeteries associated with other forts
in the north are known but few have been subjected to large-scale excavation and
analysis. That at High Rochester, is one such case but only seventeen burials,
about one-fifth of the cemetery at Petty Knowes, 400m south of the fort, has been
13
excavated. Others known include those at Lanchester, Durham and Brough-underStainmore, Cumbria. The cemeteries of these northern forts though are unique in
that the predominant rite in them is disposal of the body by cremation at a time
when the majority of bodies in the Roman world were inhumed. These cemeteries
seem to have been in use through the third and sometimes into the fourth century,
a period when the rite of cremation had generally been replaced by inhumation.
This has been seen to be a significant indication of a Saxon or Germanic influence
in these areas (Cool 2004: 308). Several informative tombstones have been
discovered in the northern military zone and a few individual burials such as the
‘soldiers burials’ found at Camelon, Stirlingshire in 1922 and 1975 (Breeze et al
1976). Cemeteries are known to exist along Hadrian’s Wall but have not yet been
excavated (see ch. 4.4.9). The same problem relates to the western areas of Wales.
The area of south Wales is reasonably well covered archaeologically, with some
evidence of Roman cemeteries at Caerleon (Evans and Maynard 1997). Apart from
the military campaigns little is known, archaeologically, of the areas further west.
This paucity of material, in the north and the west of the province, is in contrast to
the abundant evidence from the southern areas. Here major cemeteries have been
excavated at Winchester, Dorchester, Cirencester, Colchester and London along
with hundreds of smaller cemeteries and individual burials.
This study will encompass evidence from the whole province, from the territories
of the south-east – the initial areas of impact in the invasion period – to the
northern military zone. The assessment will occasionally be hampered by the
geographical bias of the evidence however, where relevant material is available it
will be introduced.
14
CHAPTER 3: THE WRITTEN EVIDENCE
‘Every great and original writer, in proportion
as he is great and original, must himself
create the taste by which he is to
be relished.’
William Wordsworth (1807)
3.1 Introduction
This chapter will survey the contribution of written sources as a whole to the study
of the people of Roman Britain. The extent of the written evidence, in general, for
the province could at best be described as limited but, the information that it
provides is illuminating. Apart from the literary evidence we also have epigraphic
evidence which, in the main, centres on inscriptions on stone, wood and lead.
Those on stone include military dedications on buildings and altars, many in the
northern frontier zone, and both military and civilian tombstones. Inscriptions on
wood are usually in the form of writing tablets, found in large numbers at
Vindolanda and in smaller numbers elsewhere, while examples of writing on lead,
generally in the form of curse tablets, have been recovered from several sites. Less
informative, but nonetheless a valuable source of additional information are
examples of writing or marks on such things as pottery, leather and metal items.
3.2 Literary
The literary evidence that we have for the people of Roman Britain is meagre and
suffers from the bias of Roman superiority. The statement by Tacitus ‘…one must
remember we are dealing with barbarians’ (Agr.11), epitomises the attitude which
coloured the ancient authors’ work. Their creation of the identity of the Britons as
inferior barbarians instilled and maintained in their readers a sense of their own
supremacy. Our main literary contributions from this period - the works of Caesar
and Tacitus – were aimed at the literate elite of Roman society and both were
writing with an agenda. Caesar, motivated politically and Tacitus morally.
Moreland (2001: 85-87) believes that writing is never a ‘neutral’ means of
15
recording events, perceptions and ideas and that all writing will have an effect
upon society, with literacies being ‘intimately entangled with structures of power’
and writing seen as ‘a technology of power.’ This is probably never more true than
with the works of the classical authors. They had been raised and educated in the
art of rhetoric and oratory and were able to successfully transfer these skills to the
written word in order to maintain their power and secure their objective. We have
no surviving evidence of any written works in relation to Britain before that of
Caesar, although Pytheas, a Greek navigator of the late fourth century BC, is
believed to have travelled to Britain and recorded his travels in his book On the
Ocean, sometime around 320 BC. It is not known how many copies of this work
were in circulation at the time nor how many survived to inform later writers, but
Geminus of Rhodes, in the late first century BC or the early first century AD,
quotes Pytheas directly while Pliny the Elder cites Pytheas as one of the sources
used in his Natural History (Culiffe 2002: 171).
3.2.1 Caesar
Evidence from Caesar regardin Roman Britain is to be found in the Commentaries
he wrote on his expeditions to Britain in 55 and 54 BC and they were written as
propaganda to further his political career. As a member of the First Triumvirate he
was constantly involved in a power struggle and needed military prestige.
Although the Triumvirate was established as an alliance of three powerful men,
Caesar, Pompey and Crassus, for their mutual benefit, it was always to be an
uneasy alliance and there was much jockeying for position. The granting of a
special commission to Pompey in 57BC to restore the grain supply ensured his
remaining in Rome, a distinct political advantage, and his speedy restoration of
supply gained him popularity. The Conference of Luca in 56BC forestalled a break
in the alliance with the granting of supposedly equal five year commands to each
of the members. However, it was still Pompey in Rome who was in the strongest
position.
16
Caesar’s military exploits therefore, enabled him to establish a military reputation
with which to rival Pompey, and it was his own reporting of events that ensured
that a favourable image was created. Although he owed his success in Gaul, to a
large extent, to the dissension among the natives, Caesar’s commentaries show the
conquest of Gaul as one of the outstanding feats of ancient warfare. In the light of
modern day analysis this was not necessarily justified. As for Britain, his time
there over the two campaigns, probably extended to little more than a few months
and, once again, was probably not one of the greatest military campaigns (Frere
1998: 16-27). However its importance, which Caesar recognised, was to be found
in Britain’s reputation for mineral wealth and the possibilities that invasion could
offer, the glory and prestige to be gained from conquests on the fringe of the
known world. This was indeed explicitly confirmed by Dio Cassius writing around
250 years later. Of Caesar’s achievement with the withdrawal of troops from
Britain in 55BC Dio says:
‘For himself or the state he had gained nothing from Britain except
the glory of having led an expedition against it … and the Romans
at home made great play of it. For seeing what was previously
unknown had been revealed to sight, and what had formerly been
unheard of had become accessible to them, they regarded future
expectations arising from these events as already realised and
gloried in all the gains they expected to achieve as if they already
had them in their possession’ (xxxix, 53).
As his commentaries show Caesar was not always clear on specifics, his
geography is questionable as is his knowledge of the natural resources of the
island, but specifics were not necessary in his quest for popularity and support.
Caesar’s commentaries were part of his propaganda and his manipulation of the
Roman elite. The speedy publication of his writing as political pamphlets
maintained, in his absence, his political prestige in Rome. Regarding Britain, his
commentaries are couched in terms aimed at convincing the readers in Rome of his
successful conquest which resulted in the surrender of the tribes, the taking of
hostages and the fixing of a tribute to be paid by the Britons to Rome (Gallic
Wars: 5.20-23). Once again specifics could be glossed over, it is doubtful that the
17
tribute was maintained once Caesar had left Britain. So, taking into account the
political climate at the time and the consequent motivations behind Caesar’s
writing, how much of his information on the people of Britain can we rely on?
Caesar would appear to have had an understanding of the social groupings of
Britain at this time, with his reference to kings and princes and the naming of
individual leaders. However, as Millett (1990: 19) points out, we should be aware
that Caesar was rendering an unfamiliar and perhaps ill-understood social system
into his own language and relating it to systems he knew. Caesar tells us that this
was a nation used to inter-tribal warfare and that they were skilled in the use of
chariots and javelins. His recognition of the skill of the Britons in battle makes his
accomplishments appear all the greater. Other than this he gives very limited
details of the inhabitants and the information that he does provide is of dubious
accuracy. He believes that the most civilised inhabitants were those living in Kent
but he saw only a small part of the south east of the island and his view of this
would have been of a society under stress. Of the people of the interior he is able
to report only hearsay. These ‘uncivilised’ natives dyed their bodies, wore skins,
had long hair and moustaches and shared their women.
The theme of a civilised society against barbarism was recurrent in the works of
the classical authors. Barbarians were the enemies of Rome and as such threatened
imperial order and stability (Wiedemann 1986: 201). Classical writers, in
discussing these marginally placed groups, created the stereotypes that their
readers expected to see. Roman society saw itself and its activities as ‘normal’,
barbarians were therefore the opposite of normal and would practice abnormal
activities – wear no clothes, paint their bodies, practice incest or polygamy and
reverse the relationship between the sexes (Wiedemann 1986: 191-192). Ancient
authors, in describing the barbarians, were simply describing a style and therefore
we cannot see the descriptions of the Britons by Caesar as a descriptive
ethnography. Parts may indeed be true but the fact that much of his account is
18
Fig. 3.1: Left-hand image on a building slab commemorating the building of part of the Antonine
Wall, Royal Museum of Scotland, Edinburgh (Photo. P.Lynch)
Fig. 3.2: The Cramond Lioness, depicting a barbarian being devoured by a lion. Royal Museum of
Scotland.
19
based on hearsay and that his writing will have been coloured by the beliefs and
preconceptions of elite Roman society, must make it all the more questionable.
This customary portrayal of the barbarians in the literary texts is also borne out by
Roman artistic depictions. These often portrayed the floundering and defeated
barbarians naked. In Britain, this form of evidence is to be seen mainly on a few
military tombstones and on distance slabs from the Antonine Wall. A well-known
slab from Bridgeness, West Lothian, now in the Royal Museum of Scotland,
Edinburgh, commemorates the building of the eastern-most part of the Antonine
Wall. The theme of the stone is conquest and domination and the left-hand image
portrays a cavalryman defeating four native barbarians (fig.1). All of the
barbarians are naked and bound and one has been beheaded. We also have rare
examples of the depiction of barbarians on sculptured pieces. The most intriguing
of these, the Cramond Lioness (fig.2), found near the site of a Roman fort near
Edinburgh, is believed to be a tomb guardian and depicts a lioness devouring a
bearded, bound and naked human figure, most probably a barbarian (Hunter 2003:
59).
All of these artistic depictions show the barbarian in a repressed and restrained
attitude and show no variation in physical appearance or presentation. These
examples and others like them provide sufficient evidence to show that the
presentation was of a generic nature which confirms the literary representation of
these enemies of Rome, its culture and civilisation.
3.2.2 Tacitus
It is in his biography of his father-in-law Agricola, which he completed at the end
of the first century AD, that Tacitus gives a few sketchy details of the island of
Britain and its inhabitants. This work is basically a eulogy to Agricola, governor of
Britain from AD 77-84, who was admired and honoured by Tacitus, and as such it
cannot be said to be an impartial account of the province at this time. As with the
commentaries of Caesar, we also have a very defined time span. The problems that
20
we encounter with our reading of Tacitus stem, not only from the inherent biases
of the genre of the work, but also from his self-righteous attitude. He held a firm
belief in the superiority of the senatorial order and was a loyal and devoted
member of the Roman elite. He claimed to ‘…write without indignation or
partisanship…’ (Ann.1:1), to be ‘…honest and reliable’ (Hist.1:1) and to offer
‘…ascertained fact…’ (Agr.10). Unfortunately, his inherent prejudices and moral
principles very often prevent his execution of these intentions. Once again, as with
Caesar, the political climate impacted upon Tacitus’ writing.
Tacitus’ claim to offer ‘ascertained fact’ regarding the geographical position and
inhabitants of Britain as opposed to the guesswork of earlier writers in these
matters is somewhat flawed. What he provides serves to maintain some of the
geographical fallacies previously proposed. He accepts earlier explanations as to
the shape of the island and erroneously places Ireland between Britain and Spain.
Regarding the inhabitants of Britain, although he fares a little better, much of his
information is second hand and the fact that he never visited Britain makes it
difficult to accept his stated purpose of using ‘ascertained facts’. His mention of
the strength of the infantry of the Britons and their methods of fighting with
chariots is to be found in Caesar’s commentaries. Tacitus does provide some
insight though into the diversity of the population. After less than forty years of
Roman occupation, he refers to freedmen, slaves, veterans, the native aristocracy,
a foreign aristocrat in the form of an Irish prince and a military population from
the widest extent of the empire.
Regardless of our doubts regarding the accuracy of Tacitus’ account, recent
research would seem to suggest that he may have been nearer the truth than he has
previously been given credit for, regarding the origin of the inhabitants of various
parts of Britain:
‘The reddish hair and large limbs of the Caledonians
proclaim a German origin; the swarthy faces of the
Silures, the tendency of their hair to curl, and the fact
21
that Spain lies opposite, all lead one to believe that
Spaniards crossed in ancient times and occupied that
part of the country. The peoples nearest Gaul likewise
resemble them…. On the whole, however, it seems
likely that Gauls settled in the island lying so close to
their shores’ (Agr.11).
Genetic research has recently provided evidence of a shared ancestral heritage
throughout Atlantic Europe. Researchers at the Department of Genetics, Trinity
College, Dublin believe that ‘the proposition of a central European ancestry should
be testable by examining the distribution of genetic markers’ and in their research
‘present both new mitochondrial DNA data from Ireland and a novel analysis of a
greatly enlarged European mitochondrial DNA database to show that mtDNA
lineages, when analysed in sufficiently large numbers, display patterns
significantly similar to a large fraction of both Y-chromosome and autosomnal
variation. These multiple genetic marker systems indicate a shared ancestry
throughout the Atlantic zone’ (McEvoy et al. 2004: 1). This analysis has shown
that, not only are there similarities between the Pyrenean population of northern
Spain and western population samples from the British Isles (Hill et al. 2000;
Wilson et al. 2001), but that Ireland and western Britain, particularly Wales, have
a strong affinity with the Basque region of northern Spain (McEvoy et al. 2004).
Also evident from this research is the affinity of the populations of south-eastern
England to neighbouring areas of continental Europe (McEvoy et al. 2004). It was,
moreover, established that this genetic heritage had its beginnings at least 10,00015,000 years ago and was not the result of widespread migration in the Iron-Age.
Tacitus based his conclusions regarding the origins of the inhabitants of Britain on
their physical appearance and on his view of their geographical closeness to parts
of Europe, and science is now beginning to give us factual evidence to the same
end. The results of this genetic research link the population of the western parts of
Britain very closely with the population of Ireland. One of the earliest founding
myths for the current inhabitants of Ireland talks of a northern Spanish king and
his sons settling there. These myths were not written down until after the arrival of
Christianity (post c. AD500) but it is possible they draw on prehistoric folk
22
knowledge of early origins handed down in the oral tradition through the
generations (McEvoy: pers. comm. 2004). It is also possible that, although Tacitus
uses physical traits as the reasoning behind his conclusions, he too may have been
subjected to this type of oral tradition regarding Britain.
3.2.3 Further written works
The works of other authors who mention Britain were undoubtedly influenced by
the likes of Caesar and Tacitus and have little new information to add. Not only is
much of their information second-hand but unfortunately only selected accounts
have survived. The period between Caesar and Tacitus saw Strabo, a Greek
historian and geographer, reporting what people believed about Britain and
including information from Pytheas and Caesar, and Diodorus Siculus specifically
stating that, about Britain ‘They say…’(V,21,3-6).
Dio Cassius wrote voluminously in the late second to early third century AD
however only nine of his twenty volumes survive and many are summaries made
by Byzantine monks. Summaries that are selective in content and language. What
does survive, regarding Britain, obviously relies on Caesar’s commentaries and
has little to add to our picture of the inhabitants of the island.
Ammianus Marcellinus wrote his history of the later Roman Empire in the late
fourth century and does make mention of Britain. However, once again, this gives
little information on the inhabitants beyond a brief discussion of the barbarian
invasions.
Unfortunately the more distant in time from the Roman period in Britain that the
texts become, the less reliable they appear to be. The historian Zosimus, who
wrote his New History on the first four centuries of the Roman Empire probably in
the early sixth century, tended to copy his main sources. The ninth century
bibliophile Photius, tells us that Zosimus’ main source was Eunapius and that his
‘account is much the same, especially in the attacks upon the Christian emperors’
23
(Bibliotheca: Codex 98). As with other accounts he has little to say regarding the
people of Roman Britain. His work is useful though in assessing the end of Roman
Britain and its timing, and may also give an insight into the state of mind of the
inhabitants at this time and their rejection of Roman rule.
A second Tacitus emerged in Britain in the sixth century. The moralising
framework in which Gildas places his De Excidio Brittonum is reminiscent of, yet
more emphatic than, that of Tacitus. Whereas Tacitus emphasised his aversion to
one-man rule and the dangers of imperial power, Gildas’ assault was on the kings
and the clergy. The stated aims of these two historians are remarkably similar.
Tacitus tells us that ‘it is a historians foremost duty to ensure merit is recorded and
to confront evil deeds and words’ (Ann. iii:64) and that his themes concern ‘…a
conspicuously monotonous glut of downfalls…’ (Ann. iv:30). Gildas writes that
‘what I have to deplore with mournful complaint is a general loss of good, a
heaping up of bad’ (De Excidio Brittonum 1:1). Unfortunately there are a number
of problems with the text of Gildas. The authorship has sometimes been disputed
and the nationality of the author queried. Early analysts even believed that the
publication was a forgery designed as propaganda in order to encourage the
Saxons (O’Sullivan 1978: 5-6). What is generally agreed though is that Gildas was
writing from oral memory and that unfortunately the section on Roman Britain is
confused and garbled. Regrettably the circumstances of authorship and attitude
make this text of very little help in understanding aspects of the Romano-British
population. In the context of his tone of morality his attitude to the Britons appears
to be one of scorn. He describes the inhabitants as ‘…ungratefully rebelling’ who
would deny ‘…honour to those placed in higher authority’ (De Excidio Brittonum
4:1). He describes them as ‘untrustworthy’ people who were subdued not ‘by the
sword, fire and engines of war, so much as by mere threats and legal penalties’ and
who, rather than put up a brave fight, ‘…offered their backs instead of shields to
their pursuers, their necks to the sword.’ He finishes his scornful attack with the
statement that ‘…it became a mocking proverb far and wide that the British are
24
cowardly in war and faithless in peace’ (De Exidio Brittonum 6:2). This rather
blatantly, moralistic outburst must make us question his assertions.
3.2.4 Discussion of literary evidence
This brief account of the literary sources, relating to the people of Roman Britain,
serves to highlight both the inadequacy of this form of evidence when used in
isolation and its potential when combined with the more abundant archaeological
evidence. These authors were impelled to produce written accounts through a
variety of motivations, both political and moral. They wrote histories,
commentaries and biographies, each with inherent biases but each providing an
insight into British society. Caesar’s strength lies in the fact that, whatever culture
imperatives directed his choice, he was an eye-witness. Tacitus, although not an
eye-witness was able, potentially, to be better informed. As has been shown, his
descriptions were not unrealistic. As an example, his description of the red-headed
people of Scotland and their relationship to the Germans is not fanciful. Even
today the Celtic west of Britain and Ireland has a notable concentration of redheaded people with Scotland having the highest proportion at 13%, and in
mainland Europe it is in the northern countries including northern Germany that
red-heads are generally found.
3.3 Tombstones
Unfortunately, the number of extant tombstones from Roman Britain is meagre
compared to the hundreds of thousands surviving from the rest of the Roman
world (Hope 1997: 245-246), but quantitatively substantial nevertheless. Evidence
of 439 funerary inscriptions commemorating at least 454 individuals, discovered
prior to 1954, are comprehensively detailed in Roman Inscriptions of Britain
(Collingwood and Wright: 1965). Around 75 have come to light since then and are
detailed in the Journal of Roman Studies up to 1969 and thereafter in Britannia.
The state of preservation of these stones varies, and regrettably, few tombstones
are associated with the grave they originally marked, nor the cemetery they were
25
erected in. Consequently there are major problems in assessing them as part of the
burial ritual or in evaluating their impact on the contemporary population.
Tombstones can however chronicle for us many aspects of the inhabitants of
Roman Britain and their society.
Tombstones have been recovered through several centuries and from most areas of
the province, from the south coastal areas of Kent through to Hampshire and
extending as far north as Ardoch, just north of the Antonine Wall. There is an
urban bias to the locations though, which is evident in the majority of inscriptions
from the Roman world in general (Hopkins 1966: 246-247). The pattern of
survival is not necessarily coincidental, as the financial circumstances needed to
fund the erection of a funerary monument is likely to have been restricted to the
urban elite.
Fig. 3.3: Above. Tombstone of M. Ulpius Quintus from
Gloucester (From Birley 1979: plates after p.112). Right.
Tombstone of M. Favonius Facilis, centurion from the
invasion army (From Birley 1979: plates after p.112)
26
The concept of commemorative tombstones was distinctly Roman (Meyer 1990:
75) and they were introduced into Britain by the Roman army. Over 30% of the
439 tombstones in RIB 1 have definite military connections, almost another 20%,
many at military sites such as Chester, Caerleon and the northern frontier areas
around Hadrian’s Wall are too fragmentary to provide any useful information at all
and many more provide limited information on the deceased. It is highly likely that
many of these would have had military connections of which we are unaware.
Military tombstones generally have an emphasis on factual information – province
of origin, rank, unit, age and length of service. Many contain only text, but we
have some examples with elaborate sculptured reliefs that can be very
illuminating. These cover, in general, the military areas of Britain (map 3.1) and
provide a pictorial record of dress and style, military accoutrements (fig.3.3 right),
tools of trade and domestic objects.
Fig. 3.4: Distribution of figured tombstones from Roman Britain (Sources: various)
27
The adoption of the concept of commemorative tombstones, by members of the
civilian population of Britain, was a provincial imitation of a characteristically
Roman practice. This group of tombstones from Roman Britain covers a wide and
diverse, but not necessarily representative, cross-section of the population. Once
again both textual and sculptured tombstones are represented, giving an insight
into age, family relationships and commemorative duties of the living. Some of the
inscriptions are also able to give an insight into the cultural diversity of the
province with details of the origin of the deceased, while others, in themselves, are
of artistic significance. They can provide a framework for further investigation
into such aspects as social and family relationships, integration and the cultural
diversity of the province. Representing specific groups within the community they
can be an indication of these people’s perceptions of themselves and their
obligations.
The shortage of funerary monuments from Roman Britain compared to other
Roman provinces, could be due to various factors. The absence in many areas of
Britain of suitable stone has been seen as one possible reason (Mann 1985: 204).
The south-east provides little good building stone and any demand may have had
to be met from other areas. We find tombstones of Purbeck marble – from the
south coast of Dorset – in many areas including Colchester (RIB 1: 200 – 205),
Cirencester (RIB 1: 113) and London (RIB 1: 15, 18, 27, 32). In areas of the southwest and the Cotswolds we find many tombstones cut in local limestone. The
inference here is that, owing to the cost factors involved in transporting the stone,
there may have been a greater need to re-cut and re-use old tombstones. Evidence
shows that the re-use of tombstones was common practice. Four civilian
tombstones from Cirencester were found in the base of the town rampart while a
fragment of a military tombstone was found re-used in the footings of a wall of a
roadside building. Tombstones have also been found commonly used in the
building of town walls which was undertaken during the Roman and later
medieval periods. Two fragments of the same tombstone, from London, were
found at different levels of Bastion 2 of the Roman town wall (RIB 1: 12). Of the
28
93 tombstones from Chester (RIB 1: 475 – 568) only five were not found as part of
the city walls. Three were found just outside the walls (RIB 1: 531, 558, 563) and
were presumably left unused, one of slate was obviously unsuitable for building
(RIB 1: 510) and one was found in a wall of Chester Castle (RIB 1: 569). A
fragment of tombstone from Caerleon (RIB 1: 379) was found re-used to cover a
burial urn in the Roman cemetery and another fragment from London was
probably re-used as packing in an inhumation grave (Barber and Bowsher 2000:
338). At Catterick Bridge the left-hand half of a tombstone, on which the
sculptured features had been erased prior to re-use, was found in position as a
door-sill in a 4th century bath-house (Wright et al. 1976: 380). Survival of these
tombstones would appear to have been fortuitous, the climate would have played a
major part in their destruction. Only those knocked to the ground, preferably face
down, and buried within a reasonable length of time would endure. Many more
may have been re-used in places that have obscured their original purpose. It is
also distinctly possible that commemorative epitaphs constructed from less durable
material may have been erected in many parts of the province.
Another potential explanation for the limited number of surviving tombstones
from Roman Britain has been proposed more recently and that is the decline of the
epigraphic habit throughout the empire before it was able to establish itself
sufficiently in Britain (Hope 1997: 249-250). The production of inscriptions in the
Roman Empire, of which epitaphs contribute the bulk, was not constant over time
(Meyer 1990: 74). Hope notes that in Germany, at sites with military backgrounds,
the epigraphic habit reached its peak in the mid-first century and that, as many of
the troops of Roman Britain arrived from Germany, the epigraphic habit may have
already been fading. The epigraphic custom may have had insufficient time to
establish itself in Britain before the custom went into decline.
3.4 Writing tablets
Roman writing tablets fall into two categories, both of which have been found in
Britain. The most common type in the Roman world were made of rectangular
29
tablets of wood, usually of a kind not native to Britain, linked together in pairs or
threes. The front of the tablet would be hollowed out and filled with beeswax and
the wax surface then inscribed with a stylus. These tablets were reusable, simply
by smoothing over the beeswax. The second type, leaf tablets, were smaller. These
were thin leaves of wood, usually scored down the centre to allow them to be
folded and written on with ink.
Of the first type, only two ‘pages’ from London have been read almost in full
(Tomlin 2003: 41). Another nineteen legible tablets are listed in RIB II, all found
prior to the end of 1986. However the information that they contain is limited to a
few names and places, the only exception being a tablet from Chew Stoke. This
tablet appears to concern an eviction matter relating to a property (RIB II.
4.2443.13). One of the London texts, a legal document certifying the sale of a
slave girl, dated to c. AD 75-125, has benefited enormously from modern
technology. It has been possible to transcribe the text, which gives valuable
information on a number of levels. The text tells us that the girl, Fortunata, was
bought by an imperial slave, Vegetus, and gives clues as to his position. We are
also told the origin of the girl, the price paid for her and possibly the name of the
vendor. This lone example from Britain, of a common transaction in the Roman
world, gives some indication of what has presumably been lost in an
archaeological context in Britain. We can use these isolated instances as examples
of evidence for the social organisation and commercial enterprise, however we can
only assume that they were the norm, based on more prolific evidence from other
parts of the empire.
The majority of writing tablets to be found in Britain are of the second type, most
come from Vindolanda (c.1400 to date) and were found in water-logged levels of
the pre-Hadrianic fort. These tablets, closely dated to c. AD 90-120 are concerned
with the running of a military installation and relate mainly to military matters,
matters of routine provisioning and domestic affairs. Excavations at Carlisle, the
most important Roman base in north-west Britain at this time, has also produced
30
77 of these tablets (plus a further 50 small fragments). Dated to around AD 100
they are contemporary with the Vindolanda tablets (Tomlin 1998: 79). One of the
letters from Vindolanda, a letter to Candidus, the slave of Genialis, from another
slave, Severus (his owner’s name is missing from the text), provides an insight
into the day to day running of business at the fort (fig. 3.5). The letter is a
reference to the festival of Saturnalia and the payment of items associated with it.
The tablets also provide evidence from the civilian vicus that grew up around the
fort and indicate the existence of local tradesmen and merchants, necessary for the
efficient maintenance and running of the forts.
Fig. 3.5: Tab.Vindol.11: 301. Letter from Severus to Candidus
3.5 Miscellaneous written evidence
Other forms of written evidence are to be found from Roman Britain but in smaller
numbers and, in general, providing less information on the people themselves.
Lead ‘curse tablets’ have been found in Britain deposited mainly on temple sites,
famously at Bath and Uley. These curse tablets, inscribed with a stylus and then
rolled or folded, generally relate to theft and the ensuing curse put upon the thief,
and are evidence of more ordinary provincial Romans rather than the elite. They
provide a fascinating view of the beliefs and practices of the more modest
Romano-Britain and can also be valuable in assessing the extent of literacy in the
31
province. Numerous milestones, military dedications and inscriptions on altars
have been recovered from Roman Britain and provide valuable information in
general but in most cases have little to add in the way of detail regarding the
people themselves. Building dedications provide evidence of the movement and
activities of military units while altars dedicated to both Roman and local deities
give an insight into the cultural diversity and variety of practices within the
province.
Other examples of inscriptions have been found on such things as pottery, leather
and metal items and in wall paintings and mosaics, unfortunately, these are very
often limited to identifying the workshops or the craftsman involved and many are
indecipherable.
3.6 Discussion of written evidence
On a whole, the contribution of written sources to the study of the people of
Roman Britain is of a limited nature but does add a further dimention to the study
of these people. The attitude and intent of the ancient authors and the veracity of
those without first-hand knowledge should be considered, as should the
geographical and social bias inherent in the use of tombstones. Writing tablets and
curse tablets give restricted information on the literate Roman-Britons and, at best,
provide details of names, occupations and an insight into some social mores. The
fortuitous but random survival of all forms of epigraphic evidence means that any
information gleaned from them cannot lead to any assumptions regarding the
population as a whole but nevertheless can provide remarkable insights into a
limited number of individuals.
32
PART 2: BURIAL EVIDENCE
33
CHAPTER 4: EXTENT OF THE EVIDENCE
‘All that lives must die’
Shakespeare (Hamlet I.ii.72)
4.1 Introduction
By far the greatest volume of evidence for information on the people of Roman
Britain is drawn from the burials of these same people. This chapter seeks to
quantify and assess the extent of this mortuary evidence. The amount of
information available from the mortuary evidence is extensive and covers a broad
spectrum. The range is wide and varied: skeletal evidence, the burial ground, the
grave, grave markers, monuments and epitaphs can all be considered. The extent
of the evidence is considerable – several thousand skeletons and graves, tens of
thousands of grave items, numerous cemeteries, both large and small, (see
appendix 1), hundreds of tomb markers - and the numbers are constantly growing.
Moreover, mortuary archaeology is a developing discipline. Not only are we
constantly discovering new data in every category, but there is a lively and
continuing debate on the approaches and methodologies to be employed in
analysis and interpretation. Furthermore the quality of publication of cemetery
excavations in many cases is now far more advanced with in-depth analysis and
discussion.
This thesis will use the information from mortuary archaeology in an analysis of
the people who lived in Britain during the period of Roman rule. Christopher
Scull, in a review article in the Archaeological Journal in 2000 stated that ‘Burials
dominate the archaeological record for the fifth to eighth centuries in England. …’
Regrettably this is not the case for the previous four centuries. Early
archaeological investigation of Roman Britain tended to focus on military aspects
and the progress of the invasion force. Assessment of evidence from forts,
marching camps and Roman settlements was paramount. When graves were
discovered, it was generally the grave goods that were of interest and the remains
of the people themselves were of minor importance.
34
In the last half century major cemeteries have been discovered and excavated,
likewise smaller rural sites and many individual burials have been explored and
added to the archaeological record. However, the data from these have not been
used collectively in a thorough investigation of the people. Robert Philpott (1991)
provided an invaluable addition to the study of Romano-British burials in his
survey of grave treatment AD 43-410 and it is not my intention to cover the same
ground. Rather I shall use the material available from mortuary archaeology,
particularly skeletal analysis, in an investigation of the people who lived and died
in Britain during the period of Roman rule. Before embarking on this it is
necessary to provide a relatively short overview of the state of Romano-British
mortuary evidence and to look at the evidence available, its extent and reliability
and its potential as an interpretive tool in the analysis of the people of Roman
Britain.
4.2 Pre-Roman Iron-Age burials
As a precursor to a discussion on Romano-British burials it would seem
appropriate to include at this point a brief overview on the extent of our knowledge
of burials of the Pre-Roman Iron-Age.
Mortuary evidence from this period is scarce and many burials from the PreRoman Iron-Age in Britain are unaccounted for. The English Heritage Database of
sites yielding human bone, lists less than three thousand finds including both
cremations and inhumations (Mays nd). From the available evidence it would
appear that burial rites throughout Pre-Roman Iron-Age Britain varied
considerably, ranging from apparent casual deposition in pits to high class
cremation burials and inhumations complete with chariots. These variations were
both geographical and temporal and while cremation began to establish itself in the
35
Fig. 4.1: Tribes of Britain in the first century AD (From: Jones and Mattingly 1990: 45)
36
south-east during the first century BC, inhumation appears to have remained the
predominant rite throughout other areas.
Extending from Kent to the Wash, the Aylsford-Swarling culture of the south-east
of Britain in the Late Pre-Roman Iron-Age is distinguished in part by its burials.
These were generally cremation burials, often accompanied by accessory vessels
and bronze brooches, with other grave-goods occasionally included (Cunliffe
1991: 133-134). Some ostentatious displays of grave-goods, particularly in the
region occupied by the Trinovantes and the Catuvellauni, indicate rich burials and
the Welwyn group of Late Pre-Roman Iron-Age graves are indicative of this with
the inclusion of luxury imported tableware and personal possessions in the grave.
The more southern zones of this region, those inhabited by the Attrebates and the
Cantii show little evidence of wealth in the burials and the rites within the area are
shown to vary considerably. Inhumation burials of warriors have been recorded in
the southern parts of the region of the Attrebates, however, over most of the area
cremation was the rule.
The cremation rites practiced in the mid-southern and eastern areas of Britain at
this time do not seem to have extended over the areas further west. In central
southern England we find the rite of inhumation continuing through the Late PreRoman Iron-Age and enduring the invasion. Burials in casual situations, usually
disused storage pits, are commonly found within hill forts and other permanent
settlements (Taylor: 2001: 65). These pits were originally dug for a purpose other
than the disposal of the dead and later served as a ready-made grave (Whimster
1981: 10). At Danebury, the burials of whole and fragmentary human skeletons in
pits was seen by Cunliffe (1983: 160) as evidence of ritual behaviour and, with the
inclusion in some cases of animal remains, is seen as an indication of the extent of
the variation in burial practices during this period. Other forms of inhumation
include those discovered in shallow graves, in ditches and within ramparts of the
hillforts. Most of these inhumations are single burials or small groups with no
evidence of formal burial grounds.
37
In the southern area of Dorset a specific form of burial emerged during the late
first century BC that gradually evolved into a long-lived Romano-British
inhumation tradition during the first and second centuries AD (Whimster 1981:
37). This Durotrigian rite saw the development of clearly defined burial areas with
burials in simple unlined earth or chalk cavities or in circular cists with coverings
of slate (Whimster 1981: 43). The majority of these burials were also provided
with, generally simple, grave-goods. The rite of inhumation also continued further
to the west in Cornwall. Burials here were in small cists. This rite was prevalent
throughout the Iron-Age in this area and continued also into the Roman period.
Unfortunately, the acid soil of this area destroys bone and in general precludes the
recovery of human remains on archaeological sites. An exception is the area of
blown sand on the north coast, with the Iron-Age cemetery at Harlyn Bay being
the best documented in the county. The cemetery here contained over 130
individual cist graves (Whimster 1981: 65). Along with other fragmentary funerary
evidence from Cornwall, these burials were characterized by a distinctive crouched
body position, a predominant preference for northerly orientation and the limited
but occasionally quite lavish, provision of grave-goods (Whimster 1981: 72).
Other areas from the west of Britain and Wales are particularly lacking in burial
evidence from this period and this makes comment on their burial rites only
speculative. The few Iron-Age burials discovered in Wales have been inhumations
(Whimster 1981: 174) and the rite also seems to have survived in the area of the
Dobunni, suggesting that the Aylsford-Swarling culture of the south-east had little
effect on these areas (Cunliffe 1991: 174-175).
In the more northern areas of Britain inhumation also continued. Cemeteries of the
Arras culture of the Parisi, occupying an area from the Humber estuary to north
Yorkshire, were first established around the fourth century BC and continued in
use into the first century AD. The burials of the Parisi were quite distinctive. The
rite generally involved crouched inhumations in low barrows surrounded by
38
distinctive square enclosures with the majority having few grave-goods. These
cemeteries were generally large, comprising between one hundred and two
hundred graves (Cunliffe 1991: 77), the singular characteristic of them being the
inclusion of cart or chariot burials. At Wetwang Slack, the Iron-Age cemetery
contained over four hundred inhumations in the Arras cultural tradition with three
chariot graves uncovered. Evidence further north, from Iron-age Scotland, is
extremely sparse. What evidence is available would seem to suggest a rite
involving inhumation in stone cists which are often indistinguishable from BronzeAge, Roman or even medieval and post-medieval interments in a similar manner
(Whimster 1981: 172).
4.3 Extent and reliability of the evidence for Roman Britain
4.3.1 How many people lived … and died …in Roman Britain?
Before any attempt at analysis of Romano-British burials we must start with an
estimate of the potential scale of the data. Everyone who lived in Britain in AD 43,
or who entered the province then or later during the more than three and a half
centuries of Roman rule, died. They are potentially part of the core of data (the
skeletal evidence) and ideally would have been disposed of in a formal manner and
had their graves marked in some way. We therefore need to explore the question of
population size and its development.
4.3.1.1 Introduction
The question of demography in ancient populations has been the subject of critical
study for over a century and is an area of growing interest. Recent research has
resulted not only in books, chapters in books and journal articles dedicated to the
question (Hopkins 1966; Parkin 1992; Frier 1999), but also conferences
specifically designed around the subject and publication of their proceedings
(Scheidel 2001: vii). This is not the place for an in-depth discussion on the
39
intricacies of demographic study2, but an awareness of its limitations, particularly
in regard to Roman Britain, is necessary. Frier (1999: 85) describes demography as
‘…a social science that specializes in the statistical measurement of human
populations: their size, structure and change over time.’ Ancient demography
though involves much more than mere statistical analysis. Study of population
structure and dynamics is essential (Parkin 1992: xii) and involves the analysis of
the economic, social and political climate over a period of time. Demographic
studies of the Roman world are reliant upon the application of modern techniques
to ancient evidence; literary, documentary and archaeological. Not only are
resulting estimates constrained time-wise but the evidence itself is open to
interpretation.
For the extent of the population of Britain in this period our ancient evidence is
extremely limited with no written evidence available. In other parts of the empire,
and in Rome itself, estimates have been attempted based on documentary
evidence, such as that relating to the distribution of the grain dole and census
details (Bagnall and Frier 1994). These forms of evidence may have many inherent
problems of their own but they do provide a basis for discussion and analysis.
Research into the population of Roman Britain is based almost solely on
archaeological evidence, which, although continually accumulating, nevertheless
is reliant on a disparate number of factors. New evidence, at any time, could
completely alter our perspectives on the extent and composition of the population.
There are also fundamental biases in our material evidence. There have been many
more archaeological investigations of military and urban sites than of sites
associated with rural settlements, with quite profound implications for
demographic studies. The bulk of the population of Roman Britain would have
been located in rural areas. Although over 100,000 rural sites are known, the
majority have not been excavated, the significance of which is discussed in more
detail below (ch. 4.3.1.4). This location bias, is likely to have a bearing on the
2
For detailed discussion on demographic studies of the ancient world there is an abundance of
literature including recent publications by Parkin (1992), Frier (1999) and Schiedel (2001).
40
social strata of the communities under investigation. By basing our demographic
estimates on mainly urban sites we are confining our research to limited sections
of Romano-British society.
Investigation of the economic variability in Britain throughout the Roman period
has also been seen to aid in the assessment of population to a certain extent. Jones
(1996: 186-243), assessing the impact of climatic change on agriculture in Britain
during this period, advances the possibility of climatic change inducing economic
variability over the period of imperial rule. This is likely to have had an effect on
the extent of the population, possibly even being a contributing factor in the crises
that resulted in the end of Roman Britain. Jones does however urge caution,
alluding to the variable state of the evidence and the conflicting results of using
different types of evidence.
The evidence for the extent and composition of the population of Britain during
nearly four centuries of Roman rule is inadequate and controlled by countless
factors. These factors range from the arbitrary survival and discovery of material
evidence, to the vagaries of the ancient environment and are hampered by a lack of
documentary and literary evidence. We must therefore be extremely judicious in
our use of statistical data relating to the demographic analysis of this province.
4.3.1.2 Population size
Estimates for the size of the population of Roman Britain, using various
determinants, have been put forward as long as Romano-British history has been
studied and they vary considerably. R.G. Collingwood, in 1929, estimated the
population of Roman Britain at no more than half a million. What initiated his
enquiry into the size of the population of Britain at this time was the publication of
the second edition of the Ordnance Survey Map of Roman Britain. Collingwood
saw this as providing ‘a detailed account of the distribution of population over a
large tract of the Roman Empire’ (Collingwood 1929: 261). In arriving at the
figure of half a million he used no less than three approaches, all attaining
41
relatively similar results. His methods involved firstly, using the estimated
population of the empire as a whole and attempting to assess, from this figure, the
approximate population of Britain. Secondly, by working backwards and assessing
the increase in population in Britain from 1066 to 1415 and again from 1415 to
1760, he was able to impose the formula for the increase in population on the
period from 1066 back to the end of Roman Britain and so arrive at an estimate of
the population at this time. These two methods resulted in similar outcomes, but
the main thrust of Collingwood’s argument was based on an assessment of the
settlement sites on the second edition of the Ordnance Survey Map. By allotting
specific occupation figures for each settlement type he was able to advance his
theory of the size of the population (Collingwood 1929: 275-276). The fact that the
results of this process confirmed the results of the other two methods reinforced
Collingwood’s hypothesis. However, it should be noted that few of his
calculations appear to be based on the actual number of site types on the map; he
allowed himself a fair bit of leeway. For example the number of villas marked on
the map was, according to Collingwood, ‘…getting on for 500.’ For various
reasons he raises this to 1000 villas and allots an apparently arbitrary figure of 50
inhabitants to each villa. Similarly he increases the number of villages from 700
(as per the map) to 1500, with an average of 100 inhabitants (Collingwood 1929:
275-276) - again no explanation as to where this figure came from. Is this perhaps
a case of the evidence fitting the theory? This is somewhat of a worry as later
estimates are based, to some extent, on Collingwood’s estimates of the size of the
group occupying each site (Frere 1987: 301; Millett 1990:184). Since this early
attempt, estimates on the size of the population of Roman Britain have increased to
Frere’s (1987: 302) reckoning of around three million by the end of the second
century with some arguing for as many as 5 or 6 million. Most recently Millett
(1990: 181-186), in a systematic survey and re-analysis of population figures for
the first half of the fourth century arrived at a figure of almost 3.7 million (fig.
4.2).
42
Range
Army 10,000-20,000
Plus dependants = 50,000-200,000
No.
%
125,000
3.4
Urban population =183,971-290,057
240,000
6.5
Rural population =
1.8 +/- 1.2 to 2.9 million
3,300,000
90
Total
3,665,000
Fig. 4.2: Estimated population of Roman Britain (From Millett 1990:185, Table 8.1)
Any estimates arrived at, for any Roman province, are going to be highly
problematical and debatable, and are the basis for ongoing theoretical debate.
Given the problems in assessing the population of Rome itself in the late
Republican and Augustan period (Frier 1999: 101; Scheidel 2001: 50-57), a period
replete in documentary as well as archaeological evidence, there would appear to
be little prospect of achieving accurate population figures for those provinces with
limited evidence. Realistically speaking, we may never know if we are even
coming close.
As more archaeological evidence becomes available, for Roman Britain, the more
likely it will become that realistic assessments can be made. It should be borne in
mind however, that the population would not have been constant. We can
reasonably assume that the initial influx of the army, associated family and
personnel would have swelled the population in the early years while there may
have been a decline towards the end. For present purposes, relying on the
information to hand at this time, I propose to take a median population of a
conservative two and a half million over 350 years of Roman rule.
4.3.1.3 Mortality
The size of the population at any given point or over a period of time is, in itself,
of no great use when discussing mortuary archaeology and its demographic
implications, without some idea of the mortality rate. Like population estimates,
43
calculation of mortality rates is an extremely imprecise science and can only
formulate approximations. The mortality rate over such an extended period as that
of Britain under Roman rule would have fluctuated quite significantly. Figures
would have been influenced by economic and social factors and there would have
been some communities far more susceptible to disease than others. Jones (1984:
41), in assessing the cemeteries of Roman York, estimated the mortality rate of
that town during the Roman period at around 25 deaths per thousand per annum.
Parkin (1992: 92) however, uses a mortality rate of around 40 per thousand per
annum for the empire as a whole, a figure also suggested by Frier (1999: 102). In
assessing the number of deaths in Britain during the Roman Period, I intend to use
the more moderate of the two estimations of mortality rate and impose Jones’
formula of 25 deaths per thousand per annum. An earlier, and more conservative,
estimate of the population of York and the mortality rate was proposed by
Warwick (in Wenham 1968: 146-148) which, although agreeing with mortality
rate data from pre-industrial populations was considered by Jones to be remarkably
low (Jones 1984: 41). Taking into consideration the military nature of York and
the effect that this is likely to have had on the size of its population, Jones
suggested a larger population and a greater number of burials with a resulting
estimate of 25 deaths per thousand per annum. Although based on the cemeteries
of Roman York and an estimated population for the garrison town, this figure is
also relatively accurate when used on the population of the small rural cemetery at
Bradley Hill, Somerset. At this site there is a large proportion of infant burials,
something not found in York. When the mortality rates for Bradley Hill are
assessed including those dying at or shortly after birth the mortality rate is around
21 deaths per thousand per annum, when these infants are eliminated from the
calculations the mortality rate is seen to be around 31 deaths per thousand per
annum. Assuming a correct rate somewhere in between these two figures the
mortality rate over the 100 year period of occupation would appear to be similar to
that of York.
44
Using Jones’ formula then of 25 deaths per thousand per annum and a median
population of two and a half million, the number of people who died in Britain
during the period of Roman rule would be almost 22 million. To use Parkin’s
figure however, of around 40 deaths per thousand per annum, would result in the
number of dead increasing to around 35 million.
4.3.1.4 Urban/rural population split
The urban/rural split has been another area of varying evaluations. It is in this area
that Collingwood’s figures vary so dramatically from more recent estimates. In his
calculations the rural population is less than 30% of the total (Collingwood 1929:
276). More recently it has been estimated that the urban/rural split, empire wide, is
likely to have been in the region of 15% urban to 85% rural with the urban figures
in the west likely to have been even lower, at around 10% (Hopkins in Bowersock
et al. 1999: 647). Figures relating to Britain from both Frere and Millett validate
this view. Frere (1987: 301) estimated rural population at one and a half to two
million at the end of the second century, with urban figures at around 320,000
(86% to 14%) while Millett (1990: 183-185) for a century later estimated just over
three million (90%) rural to 365,000 (10%) urban. These figures, although
imprecise and dependent upon uncertain factors, are sufficient to indicate the
predominance of the rural element.
This predominance of the rural population has major implications for the
assessment of the people through mortuary archaeology. Most of the major
excavated cemeteries from Roman Britain - Winchester, Dorchester, Cirencester,
Colchester, York, London - are to be found in urban and military areas. Using
figures from the English Heritage database of sites yielding human bone (Mays
nd.), these towns account for almost 45% (4966) of the known burials of Roman
Britain available for study. Cemeteries associated with rural villas have been
discovered but they are very few in number and excavation in many cases tends to
centre on the villa buildings themselves. As for the great mass of simple rural
settlement sites, with a likelihood of only a very small number of burials
45
associated with each one, their discovery is extremely random. Construction work,
which unearths many archaeological finds, tends to take place in today’s urban
areas which, in the main, coincide with urban areas from the Roman period. It
would be expected that the routine disturbance of the rural landscape would
uncover even more burials. It should be understood though that this agricultural
activity has been occurring for two thousand years, much of it at a time when little
notice or recordings would have been taken of stray bones or bits of pottery. That
formal burial was accorded to all should also not be taken as a given and remains
could just as easily have been, or become, scattered, making discovery today
unlikely.
By examining Romano-British demographic studies throughout the course of the
twentieth century, from Collingwood to Millett, we can see that assumptions and
estimates are made on the basis of the archaeological evidence available at the
time. This would seem to bode well for the future of demographic studies,
hopefully resulting in constantly updated estimates as ongoing archaeology
provides a more realistic basis for calculation.
4.3.2 How much evidence do we have?
Estimation of the size of the population of Roman Britain has important
implications for the study of the mortuary archaeology of the period. It allows us
to look realistically at the extent and the relevance of our evidence. Unfortunately
only a fraction of the estimated number of deaths in Roman Britain are evident in
the burial records. Figures, from the English Heritage (EH) database of sites
yielding human bone, that are available for study (Mays nd.), show that we have
10,676 burials, both cremations and inhumations from the Romano-British period.
Although this figure is a significant increase on the 2722 burials on the database
attributed to the Iron-Age it stills represents only 0.05% of our estimated 22
million Romano-British population. Unfortunately this database has not been
updated recently and does not include the figures for further excavations at
Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester in 2004 (343 inhumations), the 2004-2005
46
excavations at Driffield Terrace, York (80 inhumations and at least 15 cremations)
nor the recently published Brougham Cemetery, Cumbria (c. 200 cremations). The
criteria for inclusion in the English Heritage database are that the bones should be
extant and/or there should be an osteological report on them. Many early
discoveries may also thus be excluded from the calculations. As an example
counties which bear witness to this include, in particular, Norfolk and Yorkshire.
The EH database lists 29 Romano-British burials for Norfolk while the Sites and
Monuments Record (SMR) for that county lists 245 recorded burials (Gurney
1998: 1). For Yorkshire the EH database lists 622 burials for the period while a
database established by Robert Bruckner at the University of York lists 967 burials
for the period in the city of York alone. On the contrary figures for Hertfordshire
are almost identical according to the EH database (619) and the SMR (613). While
Somerset at 234 (EH) to 152 (SMR) reverses the trend. These figures serve to
highlight the impossibility of achieving accurate estimates.
The English Heritage database includes only finds which are available for study in
the form of either the remains themselves or a report on them, whereas the Sites
and Monuments Records include all reported finds. Even assuming though that the
English Heritage database covers only half of the Romano-British burials
discovered, we are still left with burials for only 0.1% of our lower estimate of
Romano-British deaths.
4.4 Survival factors
4.4.1 Combined burial rites
Up to the middle of the 2nd century AD the main burial rite in the western Roman
world was cremation, after this time inhumation became the prevalent rite
throughout the Empire, and Britain, in general, followed this trend. There are
however examples of deviation from this pattern. As discussed (ch. 4.2) there is
evidence of Pre-Roman Iron Age rites continuing in certain areas in Britain. In
Dorset, the Durotrigian burial rite seems to have resisted the cremation rite
pervading the southern area of England in the 1st century AD, and inhumation
47
continued in cemeteries located around settlements in this area (Crowe 1997: 50).
There is also evidence of cremation burials in an inhumation setting. Calcined
human bones have been found in Kent, with evidence that they were buried in a
wooden coffin (Kent SMR no: TQ 66 SE 18 – KE 1465), and at Milton in South
Cambridgeshire a Roman barrow containing burials dating from the second to the
fourth century has been found with cremations having been placed on top of
inhumations (Cambridgeshire SMR no: CB 15701). One major anomaly has come
to light with the recent publication of the excavations at the Roman cemetery at
Brougham, Cumbria. The burials in this cremation cemetery are all dated to the
third century, long after inhumation became the favoured method of burial. Three
closely dated phases of burial are evident from c.AD200 – c.AD310 at the outside
(Cool 2004: 18). This cemetery was not in use over the entire life of the fort,
which is believed to have been established around the time of the northern
campaigns of Cerealis sometime in the early 70’s, with evidence for its existence
into the late fourth century (Cool 2004: 6-8). This means that cremation here was
not just a continuing rite in a cemetery but a matter of choice. These discoveries all
point to the fact that aspects of the two rites were, at times, used simultaneously.
4.4.2 Cremations
The numbers of cremations discovered from the Romano-British period in relation
to the number of inhumations varies considerably geographically. Figure 4.3,
below, of just a sample of counties, illustrates this.
COUNTY
TOTAL BURIALS CREMATIONS INHUMATIONS
(No. of sites)
Warwickshire
505 (46)
21
484
Surrey
77 (34)
71
6
Cambridgeshire 550 (163)
242
308
Lincolnshire
590 (90)
53
537
Somerset
152 (43)
1
151
48
Hertfordshire
613 (103)
373
240
Hampshire
776 (94)
69
707
Fig. 4.3: Cremation and inhumation analysis by county (Figures compiled from local Sites and
Monuments records.)
The reasons behind this inconsistency are varied. Cremated remains obviously
have less chance of survival than inhumed remains. The efficiency of ancient
cremation processes varied and would have been dependent on such things as the
availability of firewood, the competence of the firing and the importance of this
ritual to the community. In assessing the cremated remains we need to look not
only at the total amount of bone remaining but also the size of the bone fragments.
Some cremations have been found which overall may have a large weight of
surviving bone but this has been smashed into hundreds of small fragments.
Alternatively others provide less average weight but provide larger fragments.
Those burials with smaller fragments are much more open to destruction. In the
excavation of the Skeleton Green cremation cemetery in Hertfordshire, the badly
disturbed remains of what may have originally been more cremations was noticed
in an area which had been intensively ploughed and cultivated in post Roman
times (Partridge 1981: 245). Some other major cremation cemeteries have been
discovered and published. To that of Skeleton Green, we may add Brougham,
Cumbria (Cool 2005) and Caerleon in south Wales (Evans and Maynard 1997).
Others have been discovered but not investigated, such as an area containing
‘some 200 sepulchral urns’ found in 1821 during gravel digging at Heaven’s Wall,
Litlington, Cambridgeshire (SMR 03262).
The identification of cremation burials also relies upon the use of an enduring
container for deposition and burial of the cremated remains. Cremation vessels are
often found to be very fragmentary and this destruction may have resulted in the
dispersal of any human remains. It is highly likely that many unurned cremations
and those placed in organic containers have been easily overlooked. Cremated
49
bone found at Kings Hedges Farm, Milton, Cambridgeshire (SMR: CB15697) was
located in a very discrete cluster suggesting it may have been contained within
some kind of organic bag or container. On analysis it was found to be the remains
of a young individual who had been cremated in a fire of over 900 degrees
centigrade during the mid 1st century AD.
4.4.3 Inhumations
In the case of inhumations, as with cremations, the further back in time we go the
more open these burials are to destruction, both by natural forces and human
intervention. Whimster (1981:190), in his discussion of burial evidence from Iron
Age Britain, advances the possibility of an ‘invisible rite’, that is the lack of
mortuary evidence, for that period too, indicating the existence of ways of
disposing of human remains that leaves no visible archaeological trace. He
maintains that this rite may have continued into the Roman period, until Roman
material culture provided more visible and enduring evidence. The wearing of
jewellery and other metal items, such as fastenings on clothing and hobnails on
footwear, along with grave goods provide the material evidence so necessary in
our investigation. Footwear and clothing may have been included in the grave
prior to this time however, the introduction of metal accessories by the Romans
provided durable evidence of these items. The theory of an ‘invisible rite’ should
not be taken to imply necessarily any change in burial practices, but should be
viewed more as a change in burial ritual with the increasing use of Roman material
elements. These material aspects are particularly important in areas where the
skeleton may have been completely destroyed and the lack of skeletal evidence in
any given area should not necessarily be seen as evidence of the non-existence of
burials, but simply as the non-existence of burials containing durable material
elements. The use of wood, stone and lead coffins also helps to provide much
more visible evidence of burial than uncoffined inhumations. This is exemplified
by the discovery of a well preserved timber coffin at Carholme, Lincolnshire in
1984 (SMR no: 70028). The coffin was empty apart from 3 teeth believed to
50
belong to an adult 30-40 years old. Without the material remains of the coffin the
teeth would undoubtedly have been overlooked.
4.4.4 Destruction
Disintegration of human remains is dependent mainly on the interaction of the
bones and the surrounding soil. The more porous and less dense the bone the more
susceptible it is to destruction. The porosity and density is dependent upon the age,
sex and health of an individual (Boddington et al. 1987: 4). More robust male
bones are perceived to survive better than the female bones, with immature
children’s bones decaying more quickly than mature ones. However, excavations
at the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London, appear to cast some doubt on this
hypothesis (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 360). In analysing the variation in
preservation of the skeletal remains from this cemetery it was found that neither
sex nor age appeared to be a factor in the differential preservation. Rather it
appeared to be the variation in truncation and disturbance of the areas concerned.
In most cemeteries however, the excavation of the remains of children that have
escaped destruction indicate that they were often buried shallower than most
adults, increasing the likelihood of destruction through natural erosion and
agricultural activity. The report by Giles Clarke (1979) of the Lankhills excavation
provides very good evidence of this type. It was found that in the graves excavated
in this cemetery there was a consistently higher state of preservation for males as
opposed to females. 47% of the 112 identifiable male skeletons showed little or no
decomposition compared to 23% of the 71 identifiable female skeletons. When
these figures are combined with those showing the depth of grave pits (fig. 4.4) we
find that more men had very deep graves with 11% of the 111 men compared to
6% of the 69 of women. Interestingly, there was a higher incidence of males than
females in shallow graves with 14% compared to 9%, however, this could be an
indication of the more robust male bones having a better survival rate than the
females buried at the same depth. Children are buried consistently shallower with
74% in shallow-average graves compared to 49% of adults (G. Clarke 1979: 133137).
51
Fig. 4.4: Depth of grave-pits in Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester (After Clarke 1979: 133)
The type of soil also has a profound influence on the rate of decay and this varies
throughout the island. Some areas have very acidic, and therefore destructive, soil
while others have much more preservative tendencies. At the extreme ends of this
scale are those graves where no more than a stain survives compared to the peat
bogs with the well-publicised discovery of the preserved ‘bog bodies’ such as
Lindow Man. The former have little to tell us; the latter has detail in abundance.
The state of preservation of this early Roman man 3, is such that we are able to
discern not only his physical attributes, but also the state of his fingernails, what he
ate for his last meal and the fact that he suffered from internal parasites (further
discussion ch. 12.4.2). In complete contrast to the preservative tendencies of the
peat is the very acidic soil of Cornwall. This soil eats away at any bone remains
and, consequently, bone is rarely recovered from archaeological sites in the far
south-west of the island (Hartgroves 2003: pers.comm.). Ancient cemeteries have
been documented on the north coast of Cornwall at Harlyn Bay (see ch. 4.2) and
Trevone and, although generally described as Iron-Age, burial may have continued
on the sites well into the Roman period. The use of stone-lined graves and the
3
The dating of the Lindow Man is a contentious issue. Original reports identified the remains as
belonging to the Late Pre-Roman Iron-Age or the early invasion period, thereby allowing the
theory of Iron-Age sacrifice to stand. The results of later testing, however, placed the body more
firmly in the Roman period, a time when, under Roman rule, sacrificial killing was illegal.
52
distinctive crouched position of the body are distinctive of Late Pre-Roman Iron
Age Cornish and Scillonian burial tradition though much of the associated
metalwork is dated to the first century AD (Whimster 1981: 72). There is,
however, a general paucity of Roman material in the county with the discovery of
only a single Roman fort (Nanstallon near Bodmin), occupied for a short period in
the latter half of the first century, and a single small villa at Magor, near
Camborne. There are no marching camps or evidence for a military campaign, no
grand villas and no evidence of large-scale imports of exotic goods (Hartgroves
2003: pers.comm.). This apparent lack of Roman influence in the county is
evidenced by the absence of Romano-British burials with the more visible material
culture not making an impact on this more isolated community.
The small bones in the body, particularly those in the hands and feet are the most
likely to be destroyed or missed, whereas the more robust bones, those in the arms
and legs the most likely to survive. Interestingly a relatively common find is well
preserved hair (chapter 12.4). At the Poundbury cemetery, Dorchester, hair was
found in seven of the burials, in some cases sufficient to be able to reconstruct the
style. In the case of these burials it was not the soil that prevented the total
disintegration of the hair but the fact that these bodies were buried in lead-lined
wooden coffins packed with gypsum. Green (1977: 48) believes that the
employment of gypsum in these types of burials was aimed at preservation. The
packing agent was apparently added as a dry powder intended to mop up any
liquid produced during putrefaction and prevent outside moisture from reaching
the body. Once wet this can have a destructive effect on the remains, however,
combined with the anaerobic conditions created by the use of lead lining in some
coffins, its use has resulted in the preservation of hair in several cases.
4.4.5 Erosion
Coastal erosion may also be responsible for the disappearance of some RomanoBritish burials during the last 2000 years. The coastline of Britain is very volatile
with the loss of land through erosion and landslides, in some areas, occurring at a
53
regular rate. At Birling Gap, in southern England, it has been estimated that over
the last 125 years the erosion rate has been, on average, 0.74 metres per year. Even
allowing for some variation over a longer time span the possibility exists that we
may have lost one to one and a half kilometres of coastline here since Roman
times. This situation may not affect larger organised cemeteries but, undeniably,
many individual or isolated groups of burials could have been lost. Evidence of
this type of loss can be seen at Westgate Bay, near Margate in Kent (SMR no:
TR37 SW12) where human remains and coins from the Roman period were found
on the beach below the cliffs in 1925 with further graves being found on the cliff
top. At Dymchurch, also in Kent, the sea wall was moved inland 150 yards in the
mid 19th century with the subsequent discovery of a Roman cemetery (SMR no:
TR12 NW16).
4.4.6 Recording and investigation
After 2000 years, disintegration and destruction is bound to be the main cause of
our relatively low numbers of extant Romano-British burials. There are, however,
more factors at work here than previously acknowledged.
Discoveries of human remains from the Roman period, both cremations and
inhumations, have been documented for around 300 years in Britain but it was not
until the mid 20th century, and then only gradually, that any importance was
attached to these finds. An extract from the Somerset SMR no: 53684 records the
site of a Roman cemetery at Charlton Mackrell where ‘…skeletons are known to
have been found on this site over many years but were not recorded till 1951.’
Even when recording was done it was often of only a rudimentary nature and the
remains were often lost or destroyed. The Norfolk SMR 6015 records the finding
of a lead coffin and human bones, at Sandpit Plantation, Bridgham in 1930 which
were ‘..destroyed before records could be made.’ In the same county, SMR 1610
records
in
November
1913,
‘…the
finding
of
numerous
remains
including…human bones’ which were ‘?lost’. The Worcestershire SMR (WSM
01174) details the discovery in 1880 of urns containing calcined bones which were
54
‘thrown out by men digging clay for brickmaking’ at Dowles brickworks, Bewdley
while the West Berkshire SMR (WB4356–02676-00-000) reports ‘A Roman tomb
containing two skeletons found 1856, destroyed immediately.’
In many cases there is evidence for there is evidence of extensive Romano-British
cemeteries which, for various reasons, have not been investigated. Destruction of
the sites in the name of development, structures impeding excavation, lack of
funding, are all partly responsible for our shortage of Romano-British burial
evidence. Evidence of the destruction of a late Roman cemetery at Queenford
Farm, Dorchester-on-Thames, Oxfordshire, is a perfect example of this. In 1971
this cemetery was intact. In 1972, 82 graves were discovered and excavated while
more graves were seen during their destruction by earth moving equipment.
Further graves were excavated in 1981 but by 1982, only 2% of the area had
survived destruction from road building, gravel-quarrying and pipe-laying. Only
12% of the cemetery had been excavated sufficiently to identify graves in outline.
That 12% (164 graves) represents only 7% of the estimated 2400 people buried in
and around this cemetery (Chambers 1987: 40). A large Roman cemetery at
Ospringe, Kent, was excavated in the 1920’s. 387 burials were accounted for –
both cremations and inhumations – but it was estimated that ‘..as many again
would be found under the road and adjoining shrubbery’ (SMR No: KE 7069). In
digging foundations for a new building at Ancaster, Lincolnshire, nine inhumation
burials were found, ‘…the spread of these indicating a sizeable cemetery in this
area’ (SMR No: 35749). These few examples are merely the tip of the iceberg and
with further investigation many discoveries of individual and small groups of
burials, may lead to the discovery of larger Roman cemeteries.
4.4.7 Early archaeology
Excavations from the earlier years of archaeology, prior to 1969, account for over
25% of our evidence (fig. 4.5). Unfortunately research objectives at this time, did
not often take into account the evidence provided by the bones themselves. Early
excavators failed to recognise the importance of human remains and it is only from
55
the middle of the 20th century that bones found in the course of archaeological
excavations have been considered important in their own right.
In Britain, archaeological and antiquarian societies of the early 20th century
published reports of the excavation of cemeteries and individual burials from this
early period. However, in many cases, inhumations, particularly those
unaccompanied by grave goods received little attention. Human bones were rarely
Discoveries of Romano-British burials
1900-69 26.5%
1970's 36%
1980's 18.5%
1990's 15%
2000's 4%
Fig. 4.5: Romano-British inhumations and cremations of known excavation date, discovered during
the 20th century (After Mays, S. nd. and Bingham, A. pers. comm. 2004)
collected or accorded any significance. Inevitably, although efforts were probably
made to record the data, certain criteria, considered standard today, would not have
been met. Excavation work was often carried out by volunteers and interested
people, with little or no knowledge of what was expected. The report on the
Romano-British cemetery at Guilden Morden in 1936 specifically states that the
cemetery could be ‘explored as occasion offers at little cost, whenever there are
56
volunteers who want to learn something about the burial customs of the RomanoBritons in this area’ (Lethbridge 1936:109). Little interest was generally taken of
the bones. The main concern of many archaeologists was the grave goods
accompanying both cremation and inhumation burials. In the report by Lethbridge
on the 52 inhumations at Guilden Morden the majority of the article was dedicated
to a description of such grave goods. The only skeletons discussed were the three
decapitated individuals, two of them females, possibly witches! In contrast, a
report on a decapitated inhumation discovered at Kimmeridge in 1947, included a
detailed skeletal analysis. The basic determinants in assessing age and gender were
used including the skull and the pelvis, the teeth and arthritic changes in the bone
to conclude that this was an elderly female. Muscle markings, which were
abnormally pronounced for a female, led the analyst to conclude that this female
would have been of an athletic nature and had probably been skilled in the use of
the sling and other outdoor pursuits. Although presenting an unusually detailed
pathology report for this type of early archaeology, the preconceptions of the
period are evident in the analyst’s comments regarding the cranial capacity of this
female. He is of the opinion that ‘…it was difficult to credit the fact that this well
formed skull belonged to a woman with a stature of only 4 feet 10.5 inches’
(Calkin 1947/48:39).
It is evident, therefore, that the problems inherent in early archaeological research
in the field of skeletal recovery and recognition do not stop with excavation
objectives and techniques but extend to the preconceptions of the archaeologists of
the time. Excavators and pathologists were inhibited by their preconceived notions
regarding both the opportunities afforded by the discovery of human remains and
their unacknowledged assumptions regarding culture based beliefs and
expectations.
4.4.8 Geographical factors
Allied to these problems is the complication of the geographical disparity in
excavation, reporting and recording. The extent of excavation and the accuracy
57
and efficiency of reporting and recording varies between counties, as does the
accessibility of the archaeological records. A brief glance at the recorded burials
for this period reveals the unequal geographical distribution throughout the
country with the southern counties, particularly those in the south east, being more
represented in the burial record than the north. Does this represent the distribution
of the population of Roman Britain or the biases in excavation? It is probably a
combination of the two. The majority of the major towns of Roman Britain are to
be found in the southern counties. Less than 13% of the towns and major
settlements on the 5th edition of the Ordinance Survey map of Roman Britain are to
be found north of the Wash, most of them on the roads connecting the south with
the military posts of Lincoln and York in the north. The network of roads in the
south is far more extensive than in the north and, undoubtedly, the terrain of the
south is much more conducive to settlement. This may account for the lack of
numbers in regard to major romanized settlements however the difference is even
greater when we look at the number of other types of settlement sites. There are
very large numbers of villa sites and sites of other large buildings indicated on the
Ordinance Survey map for the south of the country with most villas found south of
a line drawn between the Severn Estuary and the north Yorkshire coast. North of
the Wash however the numbers are extremely small, with a clustering in North
Lincolnshire and only a few other isolated instances. This is likely to be accounted
for by the fact that these south-eastern areas have the best agricultural land in
Britain (Wacher 1998: 131).
4.4.9 Excavation priorities
When it comes to biases in excavation there are several factors at work. Far more
Romano-British burials have been discovered than have been investigated. Many
have been identified, some investigated, relatively few analysed in terms of what
this information adds to our knowledge of the population, both for the site and for
the province as a whole. As an example, very few burials relating to the
settlements and forts along Hadrian’s Wall have been excavated let alone studied.
This is an area that would have had a relatively high and fluctuating population,
58
both military and civilian. As part of the north-west frontier of the empire its
importance would have transcended provincial considerations. It would have been
seen, not only as the northern boundary of the province, but foremost, as part of
the north-western boundary of the empire. Its significance would have been
acknowledged empire wide and the people who lived there, even if only for a short
time, are highly relevant to our study. The total number of troops based at the Wall
forts during the Hadrianic period is estimated at around 9,000 rising to around
12,000 in the third century (Breeze and Dobson 1987: 143). Many of these
admittedly will not have died in the region, some may have been transferred
elsewhere in the Empire, others may have returned home on retirement. However,
there will have been those who chose to remain and veterans will have settled,
possibly with their wives and families, in the vicus close to their fort. These vici
were established outside the forts to house camp followers, local women with
whom soldiers had established permanent liaisons, their children and those
providing goods and services to the fort. Unfortunately, only one of these vici
along Hadrian’s Wall, Vindolanda, has been subjected to extensive excavation.
Here excavators have revealed the remains of baths, shops, workshops and
domestic buildings. The settlement provided a wide range of industries to the fort
including bronze working, weaving and spinning, lime burning and the
manufacture of objects out of shale. Clearly, these settlements contained a
substantial population but unfortunately none of their cemeteries have been
excavated. The excavation of these could provide a comprehensive insight into the
local population. The importance of this type of evidence has been emphasised in
the publication of the excavations of the cemetery attached to the vicus of the
Roman fort at Brougham, some thirty kilometres south of the western section of
Hadrian’s Wall, near Penrith. This report is clear evidence of the extent of the
information still awaiting us, and the possibilities that it affords for other
cemeteries.
Details extracted from the Sites and Monuments records for the area show that
several of these cemeteries around Hadrian’s Wall are known to exist. There is a
59
cemetery adjacent to the Carvoran Roman fort that survives well below ground
and at Housesteads the location is known of two cemeteries which survive as
buried features. A cremation cemetery is sited to the south-west of the fort at
Birdoswald, however, the use of heavy agricultural machinery has caused
permanent damage to the underlying archaeology (Biggins and Taylor 2004: 168).
Two cemeteries are known at Chesters but they have not been excavated. A
cemetery is known to exist at Wall Mill but has not been excavated and at
Vindolanda, the site of extensive and ongoing excavations, it is known that a
cemetery is buried beneath the car park either side of the Stanegate road, heading
westwards from the site, but plans to excavate are seen as being in the far distant
future. Mike Bishop, an acknowledged authority on the Roman military, believes
that the reason lies in ‘methodology’ (pers. comm: 2003), that during the early
excavation of the wall zone the interest lay more in ‘the nuts ‘n’ bolts’ of military
occupation, rather than any anthropological considerations. Roman historians and
archaeologists, through the very nature of Roman society, have always been
primarily involved in the investigation and analysis of military aspects. The
Roman Empire was a far-reaching and invasive entity and therefore the focus on
military form, exploits and accomplishments has always been foremost on the
agenda.
At Vindolanda there is enough to deal with on the main site to cover the
foreseeable future. Robin Birley of the Vindolanda Trust puts it succinctly when
he says that cemeteries are too expensive to excavate these days (pers. comm:
2003), due in the main to post excavation costs. New investigative techniques in
the areas of medicine and forensics are continually providing greater possibilities
for archaeologists in the field of skeletal analysis. This innovative technology
though comes at a considerable cost. As at Vindolanda, on Hadrian’s Wall,
excavations in the south of the country are ongoing at Silchester in Hampshire.
The site of a Civitas Capital, excavation is providing a wealth of information about
diachronic change from Iron Age origins through to abandonment in the late
Roman period. Excavation of the cemetery areas of the settlement would
60
undoubtedly complement the current investigations however, once again, the cost
of mortuary analysis is cited as the prohibitive reason behind the lack of
investigation of these cemeteries (Fulford: pers. comm. 2004).
The only context today in which it is routinely possible to conduct excavation to
the highest possible standards is where there is developer-funding (Fulford: pers.
comm 2004), even then there is often little hope of full scale investigation and
analysis. Dr Peter Carrington of Chester Archaeology explains that archaeological
practice in the UK is dominated by the ‘preservation ethic,’ that is, if further
cemeteries were discovered, efforts would normally be put into preserving them
rather than excavating them (Carrington: pers. comm: 2003).
So, basically, a ‘catch-22’ situation has evolved. Constant advances in
archaeological and investigative techniques have increased the potential of
mortuary archaeology to an immense degree, however, the funding is not available
that would allow us to take full advantage of these developments. The technology
is available, the evidence awaiting it, but our capacity to use this form of evidence
in an analysis of the general population of the Roman period in Britain is sadly
restricted.
Reporting and recording of discoveries has also proved to be variable throughout
the country. Primarily, in many instances, there is reliance upon workmen
identifying remains and then notifying the relevant authorities. Inevitably, in many
cases, identification will prove to be of a haphazard nature with many remains
being overlooked. With the establishment of local Sites and Monuments Records
some years ago recording has been standardised to a certain extent. It is now
incumbent on local authorities to maintain a record of all archaeological
discoveries in their area. These records are made available to the public with
access either personally or by electronic means. Some county record offices have
the records accessible on their web site. In some instances, apart from the SMR,
there is access to already collated data on Romano-British burials. The city of
61
York has been an understandably obvious focus for research and excavation for
many years. The inventory of Roman finds in York, including burials, published
by the Royal Commission on Historical Monuments (RCHMY 1) is an essential
study when considering the burials of Roman York. Extensive excavations have
also produced detailed reports such as that by Wenham (1968) on the Trentholme
Drive cemetery. This emphasis on burials in a defined area led to an informative
paper by Jones (1984) on ‘The Cemeteries of Roman York’. Most recently Robert
Bruckner, in the course of his MA in the Department of Archaeology at the
University of York, established a database of Romano-British burials within that
city. This database, of almost one thousand burials, was deposited with the York
SMR and is a valuable and time saving research tool. In Norfolk, David Gurney
(1998) published a report, Roman burials in Norfolk, which not only lists all 245
burials in the county to that time known to be from the Roman period, but also
provides comprehensive reports of the major burial areas. Such localised reports
are extremely beneficial and can make investigation and analysis of specific areas
far more accurate and informative.
Unfortunately financial restraints delay the publication of the excavation reports of
cemetery sites in many cases. Excavation reports that we have, although taking
many years to appear, are becoming increasingly more informative and are tending
to include discussions on various diverse aspects such as pathology, specific grave
goods and unusual burial practices. The value of these reports cannot be overstated
as they provide comparative evidence from geographically distant areas of the
province.
4.4.10 Other burial methods
This discussion has so far centred on the more usual methods of disposal of the
body known from the Roman period – cremation and inhumation – and the
problems associated with discovery, excavation and analysis. We should make
note though of other methods of disposal less likely to provide obvious evidence.
These would include exposure – subjecting the body to destruction by the
62
elements, the disposal of remains in pits and the deposition of bodies in lakes,
rivers and wells. We also have limited evidence for the disposal of the deceased in
caves and peat bogs, the latter being possibly of a ritual or sacrificial nature.
The dearth of burial evidence for both the Romano-British period and the
preceding Late Pre-Roman Iron-Age has long been attributed, in part, to the
likelihood that bodies were simply exposed to the elements. This is a likely
scenario but one for which evidence is impossible to gather. Any bodies treated
this way after death would have been destroyed through the forces of nature and
animal activity within a fairly short period of time. Roman law required only a
handful of earth over the body for a legal burial. Bodies buried in such shallow
graves would easily have fallen victim to foraging animals and agricultural activity
over succeeding centuries. Ancient human remains are often found in a scattered
and disorganised manner, in ditches and on refuse sites, which makes
interpretation of the method of burial difficult. As an example human skulls and
other bones have been found amongst ordinary domestic debris of a settlement at
Worth Matravers, Dorset (Calkin 1947/48: 41). Remains found in such situations
are difficult to interpret. Their discovery in circumstances that would suggest
casual disposal may be misleading and the fact that a dug grave, a coffin and
material possessions are not in evidence cannot be interpreted as lack of burial
ritual.
It is difficult to determine the extent to which water and watery places played a
part in Romano-British burials. The veneration of water by the Celts is a well
documented rite (Ross 1967: 104) and many Celtic cults continued well into the
Roman period in Britain with the adoption and adaptation of native gods and
practices by the Roman military. It would therefore not be unexpected to find this
particular rite continuing. In most watery contexts where human remains have
been found, the remains have been in the form of skulls. Notable discoveries
include fourteen human skulls, dated by associated material, to the RomanoBritish period recovered from an underground pool in the River Axe at Wookey
63
Hole in Somerset in the late 1940’s (see ch. 9.2). Skulls, numbering in the region
of three hundred, have been discovered in the River Thames in the last couple of
centuries (discussed further ch. 9.3.3). These skulls have been found in association
with metalwork, mainly weapons, and it has been suggested that these finds
closely parallel weapons found in graves in other areas (Bradley and Gordon 1988:
504). The presence of these skulls may be indicative of a ritual purpose. However,
Branigan and Dearne (1992), in their analysis of cave use in Roman Britain, are
more inclined to view the skulls from the pond at Wookey Hole as having been
washed from the cemetery area in chamber 4 of the cave (see ch. 9.2). If these
skulls do represent a ritual purpose, circumstances of death and the disposal of the
remainder of the body remains a mystery.
Investigation into cave usage has identified human remains buried in caves in
Britain dated to the Romano-British period. Branigan and Dearne (1992: 64-65)
have identified eighteen caves which they believe were used for burial at some
time in the Roman period. From these we have a total of 137 burials from the mid
first century AD to the late fourth century. These will be discussed in more detail
in chapter 9.2. Owing to the difficulty of discovery and exploration of caves it is
possible that there are more such places, unidentified, which could hold further
evidence. There is the possibility of burials in caves during the Romano-British
period in the Yorkshire Dales, although not enough research has been done to
confirm this (Miles Johnson: Pers. Comm. 2004). Branigan and Dearne (1992: 23)
have classified several of the caves in use during the Roman period as areas of
habitation by a group over an extended period of time. The identification of these
areas of habitation and burial has implications for the structure of the society in
Britain at this time. These people may not necessarily constitute an itinerant
population but possibly a minority group whose beliefs/ideas/actions rendered
isolation necessary. If we have evidence of this type of group in areas where the
topography has rendered preservation possible would this not imply that these
groups may have existed in other isolated areas, where protective caves were not
64
available and where remains have been more open to the elements and so
destroyed over time.
Instances of burial in peat bogs have come to light over much of north-western
Europe, and Britain has produced the famous Lindow Man, whose importance to
Romano-British mortuary studies will be discussed in chapter 12.4.2. Whether
these burials were of a sacrificial nature or not will remain a contentious issue but
there is definitive evidence of ritual killing and burial. It is also questionable if
these individuals were buried in the peat because of its known preservative
qualities or whether this was providential (for archaeologists), and more of these
sacrificial burials took place in more destructive soils.
4.5 Discussion of burial evidence
There is no disputing the fact that the extent of mortuary evidence for the people of
Roman Britain is meagre and considerably less than ideal. Representation is
biased, both geographically and chronologically, and differential preservation
makes demographic analysis problematical. This problem though is not unique to
Roman Britain. The same problem, that of lack of burials, applies also to the PreRoman Iron Age. The English Heritage database of sites yielding human bone, that
are available for study lists less than 3000 burials for this period, while the total
number of excavated early Anglo-Saxon graves in Britain is also considered too
few to represent the invading population (Jones 1996: 20). At over 22,000 the
figures in the English Heritage database for burials attributed to the Anglo-Saxon
period as a whole are far in excess of those for the Romano-British period.
The limitations owing to this lack of evidence may seem overwhelming but our
awareness of these limitations finds us constantly realising new ways of dealing
with the constraints that this type of archaeology throws up. Excavation and postexcavation techniques have improved, objectives changed and the potential of
analysis has increased enormously. As will be seen in the coming chapters, the
65
amount of information that can be extracted from the burials of the RomanoBritish people is considerable making analysis worthwhile.
66
CHAPTER 5: HOW CAN THE EVIDENCE BE USED?
_________________________________________________________
5.1 Introduction
Having established the extent of the mortuary evidence for the people of Roman
Britain we now need to determine how it can be used to fill the void in information
on these people. In order to do this we need to look at all the spheres of evidence skeletal, grave goods, grave and cemetery organisation and location and above
ground evidence in the form of commemorative tombstones – and how it can assist
in our evaluation of the population.
5.2 Skeletal evidence
Scientific research, particularly medical and forensic research, is constantly
revealing new methods of dealing with skeletal evidence, which increases our
knowledge of ancient populations. As archaeology becomes ever more ‘scientific’
and recording and analysis improves and becomes standardised, the possibilities
increase dramatically. Palaeopathology, the study of disease in ancient
populations, is increasingly being used in many areas of investigation and the
primary
source
of
palaeopathological
information
is
skeletal
remains.
Osteoarchaeology and forensic archaeology are providing invaluable approaches
to the study of ancient populations. Overall, the information obtained from these
skeletons has become far more extensive and far more reliable in recent years. The
following provides a basic indication of the possibilities afforded by the
application of skeletal analysis to a population. More detailed information can be
found in a number of texts dealing with skeletal analysis in the archaeological,
anthropological and forensic fields (Ubelaker: 1989; Schwartz 1995; Hunter et al.
1996). It should be borne in mind however, that the accuracy of analysis is
dependent on various gender and culturally related assumptions. Some
osteological traits, particularly in the pelvic area, can be affected by hormones, and
67
Fig. 5.1: The human skeleton showing the major bones (From Mays 1998: 2)
68
it is therefore important to take into account physical and cultural characteristics of
the population being assessed when determining such things as age and gender.
5.2.1 Gender determination
The determination of gender is probably one of the most reliable details to be
ascertained from a well-preserved adult skeleton. Determination of the gender of
children, however, cannot be accomplished with any degree of reliability. Even
though sexual differentiation begins very early in foetal life most skeletal sexual
criteria do not manifest themselves until puberty.
The areas to be considered when attempting to determine gender are the pelvis, the
skull and then the metrical data of the remainder of the skeleton (fig.5.1). In the
female the pelvis is wider with a wide cavity, whilst in the male it is narrower with
a higher arch. Other aspects of the pelvis can also be taken into account, such as
the width of the angle of the sciatic notch and the auricular area. Not all
populations display the same degree of difference between the sexes (Renfrew and
Bahn 2000: 424) however, there is generally a 95% accuracy in determining the
sex of an adult skeleton with a complete and well preserved pelvic area. Gender
estimates made from the cranium are not generally as accurate as those based on
the pelvis but in the absence of pelvic data are a reasonably reliable source of
information. Males generally have bigger skulls with prominent brow ridges and
mastoid processes, a sloping forehead and larger jaw and teeth. The chin of the
male is generally more square than the pointed chin of a female. A system of
scoring has been established to determine the degree of ‘maleness’ or ‘femaleness’
of the skull and pelvis. The use of other bones in determining gender is distinctly
less reliable and, ideally, they should be used in conjunction with the pelvis and/or
skull. In males the bones are generally bigger, longer and more robust. Muscle
markings also tend to be more developed in males than females owing to the type
of physical activity they would have been involved in. However this is not always
the case and cultural distinctions need to be considered. It is essential to use as
many traits as possible when attempting to determine the sex of a skeleton.
69
5.2.2 Age determination
In contrast to gender determination, the estimation of the age of a skeleton is much
more accurate in the younger age group. Calculation of age is reasonably accurate
up to around twenty years of age. Teeth survive better than bone and are the best
indicators of age in children. The eruption and replacement of milk teeth can be
reasonably accurately timed as can the sequence of eruption of permanent teeth.
Dental development is strongly controlled by genetic factors with minimal
influence from the environment (Ubelaker 1989: 63). Recent research has found
evidence of a neonatal line in the teeth of very young children that can provide a
clear indication of the time of birth. The line and subsequent enamel development
can clearly indicate independence from the mother and could be useful in
determining pre-natal and post-natal deaths (Sargent 2002: 27).
During the growth process there are 806 centres of ossification which unite into
206 bones in the adult skeleton. By the age of thirteen in girls and fifteen in boys
the diaphyses (the shafts of the long bone) and the epiphyses (the bony caps at the
ends) begin to unite and the sequence of epiphyseal union is well documented.
During this union there is a period of time when the junction is still visible as a
line (fig. 5.2). This adds to the accuracy of estimates. In complete bones the stage
of union can be easy to detect and can be used quite accurately to age the skeleton.
One of the last bones to fuse is the collarbone at around twenty-six years of age
and after that other criteria are needed to age the skeleton.
This scenario presupposes a set of ideal conditions but, in reality, human growth
and development can be influenced by a set of environmental factors including
nutrition, climate, migration, urbanisation and socio-economic status. All of these
factors may have had an effect on the Romano-British population.
70
Fig. 5.2: The femur on the left is a mature bone, that on the right, an immature bone showing an
unfused distal epiphysis (From Mays 1998: 47)
In adults the assessment of age can still be attempted but with varying degrees of
accuracy. Again however, external factors and population specific aspects may
render some conclusions suspect. As a body ages there are progressive changes on
the surface of the pubic symphysis. Comparison can be made between the skeletal
specimen and published standards for male and female to determine an
approximate age. The skull is also sometimes used as an age determinant,
although, it has been more or less discarded as a reliable means on its own. The
degree of fusion of the sutures between the plates of the cranial vault may be used
as an aid to age determination but care is needed as the presence of open sutures
does not necessarily indicate youth and this method of assessing age is now
considered generally unreliable (Parkin 1992: 47). Following the end of the growth
period the skeleton begins a slow process of wearing out, and relative degeneration
of the skeleton is often used in assessing the age of an adult skeleton. The sternal
71
ends of the ribs become increasingly irregular and ragged with advancing age with
published standards for male and female having been blind tested and found to be
reasonably reliable and relatively easy to apply (Ubelaker 1989: 88). However, this
method relies on the survival of the ribs and on knowing the sex of the skeleton.
The degree of dental wear in ancient populations can be used to give a general age
range. The coarse nature of the diet in these populations is largely responsible for
the tooth wear customarily seen in archaeological assemblages and it is possible to
estimate the rate of dental wear for a particular archaeological population (Mays
1998: 57-60). Problems occur, with this method of ageing however, when there
has been ante-mortem tooth loss - common in ancient populations - and wear has
therefore been concentrated on the remaining teeth. Even with incomplete
skeletons and fragments of bones it may still be possible to make certain
assumptions regarding age at death by assessing the bone microstructure. Bone
structure changes with age and these changes are visible under the microscope.
Blind tests with modern specimens has proved accurate to within five years
(Renfrew and Bahn 2000: 427), undoubtedly future scientific research will
contribute further to our knowledge in this area and offers promise of greater
precision in the estimation of age at death.
5.2.3 Health
Most infectious diseases, such as meningitis, smallpox and the plague, leave
detectable traces in soft tissue alone and are never likely to be detected in any of
the physical remains where only skeletal evidence survives. Thus an entire
category of some of the most important diseases will remain undetectable in the
archaeological record. Nevertheless, with only skeletal evidence to work with,
some important aspects of health can be determined. Health problems and diseases
that effect changes in the bone and bring about erosion, growths or altered
structure may be evident.
The most common identifiable disease of the ancient world is arthritis. However,
many kinds of arthritis are most visible in the small bones of the hands and feet –
72
those that are often poorly preserved. Most arthritic changes observed in
archaeological remains represent osteoarthritis (fig. 5.3) – degenerative changes
during the normal process of ageing – however, excess trauma to joints can
ultimately produce changes in the bone that are virtually identical to those
attributed to osteoarthritis. Recognition of this type of trauma, which is usually
restricted to one joint rather than the whole skeleton as in osteoarthritis, may
indicate such things as dislocations or certain diseases such as tuberculosis or
syphilis (Ubelaker 1989: 108-109).
Fig. 5.3: The humerus on the right shows severe osteoarthritis, the humerus on the left is normal for
comparison (From Mays 1998: 130).
Teeth are often the best preserved parts of the skeleton - they are resistant to acid
soils which destroy less durable bone – and can be useful in gauging the health of
an individual. The appearance, on teeth, of lines of enamel hypoplasia is an
indication of stresses affecting proper growth. These stresses may include
73
nutritional imbalances, vitamin D deficiency and such serious childhood illnesses
as rheumatic fever. These stresses may be local, affecting one or two teeth, or may
be systemic affecting the majority of teeth (Schwartz 1995: 162). The lack of teeth
in an otherwise well preserved skeleton may also be an indicator of poor oral
hygiene.
Evidence of dietary deficiencies and malnutrition may also be found on the long
bones of a skeleton. Transverse lines on these bones – known as Harris Lines –
indicate interruption of the growth process leading to radio-opaque bands of
mineralisation (Schwartz 1995: 15). Several Harris Lines on the same bone could
be seen as an indication of recurrent or seasonal conditions such as nutritionally
difficult times of the year. Scientific analysis can also be used in researching the
diet and nutrition of these people with the examination of bone collagen. By
analysing the carbon and nitrogen isotopes it is possible to define how much
marine protein was in the person's diet compared to the plant and animal protein.
Congenital defects such as Spina Bifida may be apparent from skeletal evidence,
as may leprosy which erodes bone and syphilis which can lead to severe
deformities, particularly in the skull. The incidence of lead in the skeleton has
stimulated discussion on the exposure of the Romano-Britons to lead
contaminates. At least 90% of lead absorbed into the body is fixed in skeletal
tissue. There may be some contamination of skeletal remains by lead in the soil but
this appears to be minimal and is not seen by the experts as causing serious
discrepancies in the findings (McWhirr et al. 1982: 204). It is not possible, using
skeletal evidence, to determine if any individual died from lead poisoning,
although, it is highly likely that those with high lead levels would have suffered
from associated health problems. Prolonged exposure to lead may have contributed
to such health problems as anaemia which would render the person less able to
cope with infections.
74
Fig. 5.4: Two skulls from Cirencester showing skull wounds. The top skull shows evidence of a
severe gash that resulted in a triangular portion of bone being depressed inwards while the bottom
skull has a narrow incised wound across the frontal bone. (From McWhirr et al. 1982: 169-170).
75
Injuries and wounds are also often evident in ancient skeletons. Healed fractures
are seen in bones in many cemeteries, with the most common affected, being the
ribs. Parry fractures are also quite common. Wounds are often visible caused by
weapons which are either sharp and incise the bone, or blunt instruments which
dent, crack or split the bone. With some head wounds it is possible to determine,
with a fair amount of accuracy, if the wound is likely to have caused neurological
damage. The severe gash received by the occupant of Inh.305 at the Bath Gate
Cemetery Cirencester (fig. 5.4 top), although eventually healing, is likely to have
caused neurological after-effects. The extent to which wounds may have led to the
death of an individual can usually be inferred from the degree of healing of the
wound. Both of the instances in fig. 5.4 show evidence of healing and the wounds
themselves would not have been responsible for the deaths of these men.
5.2.4 Population affinity
Other aspects of an individual’s life and origins may be ascertained from scientific,
and unfortunately expensive, analysis. Strontium and oxygen isotope analysis of
teeth can define, within reasonable parameters, the geographical area where the
individual grew up. Racial origin can also be assessed by the appearance of
indicators on the skull. Specific facial characteristics can be assigned to each of
three racial origin groups but only with 80-85% accuracy. These morphological
traits have previously been the only form of data used to assess racial affinity in
past populations and the fact that they can be affected by environmental factors has
sometimes made results difficult to interpret. It is now possible however, to obtain
and use genetic data to this end. The new science of archaeogenetics is in its
infancy but is already being applied to human remains from prehistoric sites with
some success (Izagirre et al. 2000). This science uses the application of Ychromosome and mitochondrial DNA analysis to populations in order to assess
ancestry, and recent research has found similarities between various European
localities (Hill et al. 2000; Wilson et al. 2001; McEvoy et al. 2004). There is
obviously a long way to go before this technique can be used to any great extent in
76
an analysis of past populations however it does open up enormous possibilities for
future research.
5.2.5 Discussion of skeletal evidence
The preserved remains of the people is the main source from which information
concerning their physical attributes can effectively be gained. In using these
remains however, we must maintain an awareness of their inherent limitations. The
usefulness of skeletal measurements relies on the application of standards, and in
the case of the Romano-British population, we have no standards with which to
compare. With most ageing techniques we are reliant on standards derived from
modern material or from populations outside the geographical scope of the Roman
Empire. As an example, in the analysis of the skeletons from the Eastern Cemetery
of Roman London, the standards applied were based on samples of Native
American groups and variation in growth between these populations and the
Romano-British need to be borne in mind (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 357).
Furthermore, populations may vary as much over time as they do between
different geographical locations. With migration and integration, as we have with
Roman Britain, characteristics may vary through the generations. An initial
immigrant community may be physically distinctive but within a few generations
there may be changes in such things as robusticity, height etc. due to changes in
diet and lifestyle.
The point we need to emphasise when looking at the people of Roman Britain, is
that we do not need to be precise. We do not specifically need to know how many
6 year olds or 10 year olds are buried in the cemetery or, for that matter, if a
particular male was 24 years old or 28 years old when he died. It is more important
to understand the relative figures of children to adults in the burial ground or if
there are more young adults in the 20-30 year age group represented than in the
40-50 year age group. These figures are much more realistically attainable.
77
5.3 Gravegoods
The discovery of the material remains, in a burial context, of items in use during
the period of Roman Britain is of major importance in assessing the lifestyle and
belief patterns of these people. The extent of grave goods varies considerably
between cemeteries. In the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester and the Poundbury
Main Cemetery, Dorchester, only 3.5% (out of 362) and 4% (out of 1114)
respectively of inhumation burials contained grave goods. In the Eastern Cemetery
of Roman London it was 24% (of 550) whilst at Lankhills the figure rises to 54%
(of 444). The reason behind the variation is worthy of investigation - it could be
geographical, cultural or temporal (Lynch 2003: 45). Coins, hobnails, joints of
meat and various perfumes and oils in graves are suggestive of ritual behaviour.
Items of jewellery, personal ornaments such as belt fittings and pins and items of
equipment are often seen as an indication of the status and wealth of the deceased.
It is possible that these deposits simply represent an ideal, but in some cases it is
difficult to avoid the impression of a person of considerable wealth and status.
Many analyses, using mortuary data, have worked on the assumption that an
individual’s treatment in death bears some predictable relationship to the
individual’s state in life and to the organisation of the society to which the
individual belonged (O’Shea 1984: 3). More recent research however has
questioned the idea of burial evidence being reflective and sees burials more as
providing distorted reflections of the past at varying levels (Härke 1997: 25) or of
representing an ideal (Hope 1997: 257).
Whether distorted or not, grave goods, serve, not only as an indicator of ritual,
belief, status and wealth, but are also evidence of a vast array of items that would
have been in everyday use. This evidence, in itself, is of enormous help in
assessing the occupations and pastimes of the people. The appearance of intricate
metalwork, jewellery, toys and domestic equipment in graves can be used, not only
in an analysis of the deceased individual, but in a study of many other aspects of
their community; studies of occupations, trade, migration, artistic pursuits and
leisure activities all benefit from mortuary archaeology.
78
Fig. 5.5: Cirencester (top) (From McWhirr et al. 1982: 206) and Canterbury (From Wacher 1987:
815 after Canterbury Archaeological trust) showing the Romano-British cemetery areas.
79
5.4 Cemetery organisation
The positioning and composition of the cemeteries and the organisation of the
graves within the cemeteries are valuable sources of information in this study. All
of the large cemeteries excavated around the major cities of Roman Britain have
been located outside the boundaries of the settlement, as have many others known
to exist that have not been excavated. This follows the widely held view in ancient
times that the areas of the dead should be separated from those of the living. Fig.
5.5 shows just two examples of this organisation - Cirencester and Canterbury. At
Cirencester the greatest number of Romano-British burials, both inhumations and
cremations, have been recovered from the cemetery to the west of the town with
relatively few around the roads leading from the north, south and east. As can be
seen from the map of Canterbury, the earlier Roman cremation burials
concentrated to the west of the town while later burials appear more to the south
and east. The well-known exception to this rule of burial outside the confines of
the settlement though involves the burial of infants. Very young children have
been found buried, not only within settlements, but within buildings themselves,
many under the floor of residential or farm buildings (discussed in depth in chapter
6).
In comparison to the positioning of the cemeteries, which follow regulation
patterns, their internal arrangement varies widely. In the majority of cemeteries a
degree of order and organisation is evident in the positioning of the body, with
alignment in many cases being related to known topographical features, very often
a boundary ditch or a road. The graves also generally seem to adhere to an
organised plan with little intercutting of burials. There are, however, notable
exceptions to this rule. The cemetery at Trentholme Drive in York is renowned for
its apparent lack of organisation or planning with graves oriented in every
direction. The Bath Gate Cemetery at Cirencester shows some degree of
disorganisation in parts but this is only slight compared to Trentholme Drive. The
absence of grave markers or specific ground features could have led to some grave
cutting in both cemeteries, however, this does not account for the lack of respect
80
shown to many of the bodies in the York cemetery. Here later burials were often
cut through earlier ones creating a disorganised jumble of human bones, some still
articulated, some not. The shallowest levels of this cemetery exhibited a greater
disturbance with some skulls and bones indicating a reasonably short time between
burial and disturbance. There appears to have been no overall plan, there was no
uniformity of posture and the depth of the graves seems to have been arbitrary
with the deepest graves not necessarily the earliest (Wenham 1968:34).
The demographic composition of the cemetery populations from Roman Britain
also varies quite considerably. In the majority of Romano-British cemeteries
children comprise only a small percentage of the population (see ch. 6) with the
figures varying between c.7% and c.25%. The major exceptions to this are the
Queenford Farm Cemetery, Dorchester-on-Thames with c.33% of the 184
excavated burials being of children and the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester with
c.30% of 1114 burials being of children. Although, as previously discussed, we
must bear in mind that at the Queenford Farm site in particular only a very small
percentage of the cemetery area has been excavated. In general the number of
children’s burials in Romano-British cremation cemeteries is somewhat similar to
the inhumation cemeteries. In the predominantly early cemeteries the range is
normally between 7.7% and 12.8%. However, the exception is in the third century
cremation cemetery at Brougham where an estimated 29% of the 146 cremation
deposits were of immature individuals (Cool 2004: 289).
There is evidence in some cemeteries of what may be family plots or family
mausolea. For example, in the Poundbury Cemetery, 17 burials were found in 10
mausolea (ch. 6.7.2) and, through skeletal and pathological investigation, are
believed to represent family groups. These mausolea could be an indication that
family was an important element in determining burial patterns and these could
represent families sufficiently wealthy to be able to provide such burial structures
(Lynch 2003: 43). It may also be feasible to infer family groups within a cemetery
population. Also in the Poundbury Cemetery there appear to be groups of burials
81
consisting of several children along with two or three adults surrounding them (ch.
6.7.2).
The incidence of anomalies in the arrangement and attitude of the body in the
grave may also be used to make inferences regarding the beliefs and practices of
that particular community or segments of that community. In Romano-British
cemeteries the majority of bodies are buried supine. At the Bath Gate Cemetery
the figure was 74%, at Lankhills 89% and at the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London 96.7% (Lynch 2003: 42). With such large figures this was obviously the
norm but in almost every cemetery population there are exceptions. We find
instances of both prone burial and decapitation (in some cemeteries a combination
of both) and we must question the reasoning behind these deviations from the
standard attitude (see ch. 9.5).
5.5 Discussion – strengths and limitations of burial evidence
All of this evidence, in the form of the human remains, the grave and gravegoods,
the cemetery and the commemorative grave markers, is invaluable in an
assessment of the people of Roman Britain. Their death and burial provides an
immense archive of information about their life and lifestyle. The nature of
cemeteries and graves means that they are often better preserved than other
archaeological evidence and provide primary evidence with which to begin an
investigation of these people. However, the random nature of burials from Roman
Britain is undeniable. Geographically there are biases, even within a particular
cemetery population. Differential survival, excavation techniques and priorities
and the availability and cost of post-excavation analysis, leads to a limitation on
the extent and usefulness of the information available. Clearly, as a proportion of
the people who died in Roman Britain – at least 22 million - the sample of burials
is tiny and its accessibility largely the result of chance.
Despite the bias in distribution, preservation and recovery of data, the preserved
remains of the people is the main source from which information concerning their
82
lives can effectively be gained. Artistic depictions are rare and somewhat stylised
and we have only scant literary references to the physical aspects of the
population. Although their potential cannot be discounted, these literary references
are coloured by the bias of Roman superiority, the Roman historians setting the
‘barbaric’ (with all the connotations of that term) tribes of early Britain against the
civilised Roman society. The concept of barbarism against civilisation has only
relatively recently been questioned. Less than a hundred years ago, on 10th June
1912, Rev. Robert. C. Nightingale, reporting in a local Norfolk publication on the
discovery of burials at Beechamwell wrote ‘…. I cannot also help thinking of the
strangeness of the stern civilization of the Romans and the wild barbarism of the
savage meeting in this corner…..’ Current scholars, fortunately, are no longer
thinking in these terms and are questioning many preconceived notions.
The use of skeletal data in approaching the demographic questions of Roman
Britain is a contentious issue. Parkin (1992: 58) is extremely scathing about the
usefulness of skeletal data in assessing the demography of the Roman Empire,
including Britain, believing the information is ‘plagued with biases to produce
potentially misleading or improbable information’. True, it would be unrealistic to
attempt to make demographic statements covering the whole of the RomanoBritish population, our samples are not representative of the population as a whole
nor of the entire period. But this should not necessarily restrict the usefulness of
the information. Our awareness of the inherent problems of mortuary archaeology
should enable us to use the information appropriately. By using small-scale
analyses of each individual population, comparisons can gradually be made. With
the excavation of an increasing number of sites the broader picture will become
clearer - a slow but ever evolving process.
83
PART 3: PEOPLE
CHAPTER 6: THE YOUNG
______________________________________________________
84
Infants’ graves are steps of angels, where
Earth’s brightest gems of innocence repose.
From ‘Infants’ Graves’ John Clare 1793-1864
6.1 Introduction
Evidence for children and infants in a mortuary context from Roman Britain may
seem scarce. However, the evidence that we do have – more than generally
acknowledged - can be very illuminating. We can look at a number of factors
including where they were buried, whether there is any distinction between the
burials of the adults and children and, if so, is this distinction uniformly followed?
Are there exceptions to the rule? We can question how they were buried. Did the
burial rites afforded these young people differ from those bestowed upon their
parents? Indeed, did they differ even within their own demographic? Are we able
to discern any social orders that these children belonged to? Is there any evidence
of the affluence of their family? We can attempt to reconstruct their lifestyle by
looking at evidence of the effect of diet and activity upon their health, by looking
at material evidence of their recreational pursuits and by investigating any skeletal
abnormalities. The significance of using mortuary archaeology in our attempts to
gain an insight into the lives of children in Roman Britain, lies in the fact that we
are dealing with the remains of the children themselves. We are seeing, through
this brief and tantalisingly limited glimpse into their lives, the impact that their
environment, their society and their family may have had on them.
Children are relatively elusive in ancient history. We have very little written
evidence for the lives of children in the Roman world. Latin literature overall does
not give a prominent place to children (Rawson 1997: 90) and literary evidence,
such as we have, was written by the upper class. As future citizens though, Roman
children were important and artistic depictions portray children as part of the
fabric of society. Children of the imperial and upper classes are depicted, as are
those of the masses. Augustus adopted the trend of memorializing family
relationships, including children, as a symbol of stability and continuity (Rawson
2003; 31). On the Ara Pacis Augustae, the Altar of Augustan Peace, the emperors’
family is seen, portrayed as a happy family blessed with many children (Hannestad
85
1988: 69) and children became an essential part of imperial ideology (Rawson
2003: 61), a crucial ingredient of the dynastic policies of the imperial period. The
importance of the children of the lower classes should also not be underestimated.
They too are portrayed on sculptured reliefs such as the Arch of Trajan at
Beneventum, where Trajan is seen distributing alimentaria. These sculptured
reliefs were used by the emperors to disseminate imperial ideas and policies, with
Pliny the Younger acknowledging Trajan’s motives as encouraging the birth of
new citizens as resources of war (Panegyric 22). Many representations of children
in art and epigraphy are related to their deaths and sarcophagi from Rome depict
scenes of childhood - children being cared for, children at study and at play.
As much in evidence as children may be in the art and epigraphy of Rome, the
story in Britain during this period is somewhat different. The only representations
of children from Roman Britain are to be found on a handful of tombstones from
the province. We have no statues of children, no monumental architecture adorned
with sculptured reliefs and no evidence of elaborate memorial architecture with
implicit messages of family values and the importance of children as future
citizens.
The literary sources for Roman Britain give us no direct information on the
children. Caesar’s only mention of children, in regard to Britain, is to state that the
offspring of women, who are shared among several men, are regarded as
belonging to ‘ ….. the man with whom a particular woman cohabited first’ (Caesar
Gallic Wars: V:14). Tacitus, into the mouth of one of the Britons’ leaders at Mons
Graupius, puts the words ‘Nature has ordained that every man should love his
children …..’ (Tacitus Agr. 31). Tacitus gives us a brief glimpse into the Romans’
outlook on the death of a child. He tells us that ‘Agricola suffered a grievous
personal loss in the death of a son who had been born a year before’ (Tacitus Agr.
29). Agricola ‘accepted’ this blow. Although the loss was regretted (particularly as
it was a son), it would have been a common occurrence, for the elite as well as the
lower classes.
86
6.2 The history of childhood
The study of the lives of children in past societies began slowly but has gathered
pace in recent years. Ariès (1962) and de Mause (1974) both produced influential
works on the history of childhood, and books on children and childhood
throughout most historical periods have recently appeared (Cunningham 1995;
Crawford 1999; Rawson 2003). The place of the child in society, the contribution
that children make to the social and economic composition of the community, the
parent-child relationship and the lifestyle of the child are all areas of interest and
investigation. Studies into children in the Roman world have produced books on
the subject (Wiedemann 1989; Rawson 2003), and for the most part these
invariably tend to focus on children of families in Rome and Italy, for which
evidence is more readily available. Epigraphy and iconography, Roman law,
literary texts and the theatre, even private correspondence are all available in
relative abundance for Rome and Italy and provide a fruitful source of information
on family values and the child’s place in society. The lack of documentary and
pictorial evidence available for the children of Roman Britain, (as opposed to later
periods of British history), sadly restricts our efforts to understand their position
and their value to the family and the wider society during this period.
Ancient literary sources, remembering that these generally refer to the upper
classes, imply that children in the ancient world were seen as important, not in
their own right – as children, but as part of a process, that of producing citizens
(Cunningham 1995: 25). Children in many pre-industrial societies throughout
history were seen as providing a large part of the work force, as being part of the
productive function of the family from an early age (Galeski 1971; Cunningham
1995: 82). Ariès’ (1960) claim that there was no real concept of childhood before
the seventeenth century has been questioned more recently and found to lack
foundation (Rawson 2003). What has surfaced, from analysis of the grave goods
associated with child burials in Roman Britain, is that there appears to have been
no marked distinction in the material elements associated with these burials,
87
whereas this type of distinction differentiates and defines children in our society
(Gowland 2001: 164). Children, in many societies in the past (and possibly even
in the present) have been seen as a necessary functioning element of that society
and as such would not necessarily have been perceived as ‘separate’. So, although
the role of children, the ultimate purpose of the child, may have differed between
imperial Rome and European pre-industrial societies, the general view of the child
as a resource, either social or economic, was ultimately the same. We saw, in ch.
4.3.1.4, that the bulk of the population of Roman Britain would have been found in
rural areas ergo the majority of the children would have been found there also. The
likelihood is that these children would have been a necessary part of the productive
process of the economy, their value dependent on their ability to play a functioning
part in the workforce and therefore they would not necessarily have been
distinguished by age in the material culture of burials.
As with the study of many aspects of Roman Britain, the question of children in
society brings into play the issue of cultural change. To what extent were the
people of Britain influenced by Rome, and, even if the material culture did change,
to what extent did the attitude of these people and their views on family and
community reflect that change. As David Mattingly (2004: 12) calculates only a
very small minority, little more than 3% of those in Britain at this time had contact
or a connection with Rome. In view of this, what influence if any, would the
Roman concept of children and childhood held by the elite of Rome, have had on
the bulk of the population of Britain?
6.3 The evidence of children
Our lack of documentary evidence for Romano–British children means that we
have to rely exclusively on the archaeological evidence. This comes mainly in the
form of mortuary archaeology, including burial sites, limited skeletal evidence and
even more limited epigraphic evidence in the form of funerary commemorations.
As detailed in Roman Inscriptions of Britain (Collingwood and Wright 1965), of
the 454 individuals commemorated on tombstones only 227 are commemorated
88
with their age at death. Of these, 44 are under the age of seventeen, and few give
any artistic depiction of the child, with the execution of those that do varying in
competence. At almost 10% of the total of individuals commemorated, these
figures appear to be relatively high given the belief that the bodies of children
were often disposed of in ways unlike those of the adults. Thirty-four of the
children commemorated were under the age of fourteen, this figure representing
15% of the 227 individuals who were commemorated with age at death. In
contrast, in a study of a much larger sample of funerary inscriptions (close to three
thousand) from several areas throughout Italy, it was found that children in this
age group represented over 30% of the total (McWilliam 2001: 75).
Commemorations to Romano-British children have been discovered from only
fourteen Romano-British towns but with these towns providing a total of 133 out
of the 227 funerary inscriptions containing age at death, the children constitute
30% of them.
Of the 34 commemorations erected to children under fourteen and containing age
at death (fig. 6.1), only three were erected in the southern areas of the province,
two at Bath and one at Usk, the remainder being discovered north of the towns of
Lincoln in the east and Chester in the west. Notwithstanding that the erection of
these tombstones was determined by many diverse factors and that their survival
was even more problematic, the geographic inconsistency in the evidence for the
erection of commemorative tombstones to children in Roman Britain would appear
to hold some significance. Most of the towns represented with tombstone
dedications to children were of a military nature, six of the inscriptions (18%) have
specific military connections, but many more legionary fortresses, forts and supply
bases are not represented. Thirty-three tombstones have been discovered at the site
of the legionary fortress of Caerleon, twenty of them with age at death, but none
were dedicated to children. Of the eight tombstones from Colchester, six from
Cirencester and nine from Wroxeter, once again none were dedicated to children.
The lack of tombstone dedications to children in these areas may simply mean that
89
none have survived while the figures would seem to imply that those children that
were commemorated in this way were part of military families.
Town
Inscriptions
Children
Male
Female
with age at under
death
fourteen
Bath
12
2
-
2
Usk
1
1
1
-
Lincoln
14
1
-
1
Chester
45
4
2
2
Ribchester
3
1
1
-
York
18
7
2
4
Greta Bridge
2
1
-
1
Maryport
6
2
1
-
Old Penrith
7
4
3
1
Carlisle
5
1
1
-
South Shields
3
1
1
-
Corbridge
5
3
-
2
Risingham
9
4
1
2
Birdoswald
3
2
2
-
Totals
133
34
15
15
Fig. 6.1: Distribution of tombstone inscriptions of children with age at death in Roman Britain
(From RIB 1)
6.4 The mortuary ‘invisibility’ of children
The perceived under representation of children in the mortuary record obviously
frustrates attempts at analysis and precludes many observations being made. As
Andrew Chamberlain (1997: 248) succinctly states ‘archaeology is quintessentially
the art of the visible.’ Children, in the archaeological world in general, and in a
Romano-British context in particular, appear to be the invisible. This ‘invisibility’
90
though is relative. Romano-British children are more in evidence than their
counterparts in the later Anglo-Saxon period, with few Anglo-Saxon children
found in cemeteries. The remains of infants and children have also been found to
be almost non existent on settlement sites from this period (Crawford 1999: 66).
Chamberlain (1997: 249) proposes that at least half of the living individuals in
most prehistoric communities were children under the age of eighteen years, while
others put the number of children under the age of fifteen at between a third and a
half of the population prior to the twentieth century (Cunningham 1995: 96). But
does this necessarily mean that these children should be represented in the
mortuary record in great numbers? The weakest members of any community are
the very young. Considering the acute likelihood of the destruction of their ancient
remains, infants are relatively well represented in the mortuary records of Roman
Britain (albeit not in the mainstream cemeteries). The probability of dying falls
steadily with the increase in age during childhood (Wrigley et al. 1997: 248) and
once a child survives past infancy it has an increasing chance of surviving to
adulthood. The figures for infant mortality in pre-industrial England, although
fluctuating through time, with urban and marshland areas being particularly
susceptible to higher death rates, were not particularly high by comparison with
other European communities (Wrigley et al. 1997: 213-218). Figures for the
sixteenth and seventeenth centuries in England show an infant mortality rate of
less than 200 per 1000 (Wrigley et al. 1997: 219). An infant mortality rate of c.300
per thousand is believed likely for the Roman Empire (Parkin 1992: 93), however,
this figure would have varied quite significantly between different provinces and at
different times, and would have been dependent on both natural and cultural
factors. If later periods in England had comparatively lower mortality rates for
infants than other European communities there is also a chance that the RomanoBritish period may have followed a similar pattern.
The proportion of children buried in Romano-British cemeteries has always been
seen as an under representation of this group. Yet, the question of why it is seen as
such should be addressed. We know that various factors contribute to the
91
childhood mortality rate, both economic and cultural, and that these factors varied
quite considerably in the Roman period, between provinces and even between
different communities within a province. However, childhood mortality figures
from other areas within the empire and other periods throughout history are still
imposed on the Romano-British. Most archaeologists and historians admit to the
uncertainty surrounding mortality statistics for infants and children from Roman
Britain, yet are happy to work with orthodox assumptions and preconceived
notions of ‘what is expected’ with the result that they consider these statistics fall
short of the reality. How many sites do we need to discover with the same
proportion of child burials in them before we begin to at least consider that they
may be close to a valid representation of childhood mortality in Roman Britain?
Evidence from two of the larger Romano-British cemeteries, those at Poundbury,
Dorchester and the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London, accentuate the
differences between communities within a province, and how differing social and
cultural norms may alter the mortuary record (ch. 6.7.5). Demographic studies into
child mortality, in any period, generally focus on those under the age of five years,
this being the most vulnerable period of life until age related symptoms appear
later in life. Factors affecting children’s health change rapidly at the beginning of
life with genetic and familial factors making way for social, economic and
environmental (Bengtsson et al. 2004: 361). In regard to Roman Britain, these
factors affecting the older child, may be seen to vary, depending upon the
community involved. The settlement of Bradley Hill, Somerset is believed to be
representative of an entire community over a 100 year period and although we
have the burials of 25 infants, the remains of only one child were discovered in the
cemetery.
So, are we able to determine to any reliable extent, the reason behind the perceived
‘invisibility’ of children in the mortuary record of Roman Britain? Is it caused by
some specific burial rite or some segregated burial place that we are unaware of?
Morris (1992), in discussing the sudden increase in children’s burials in Athenian
92
cemeteries around 725BC, argues for a change in burial practise in relation to the
young. Proposing that prior to this time these children were disposed of in a
manner that ‘left few discoverable material remains’ (Morris 1992: 80). Are some
child burials absent from the mainstream Romano-British cemeteries owing to the
fragility of their skeletal remains and differences in the depth of their burial,
resulting in their exposure to destructive processes? Or, do we in fact have a
representative number of children in the mortuary record of Roman Britain, and is
it the imposition of our preconceived notions of child mortality in ancient societies
that leads us to expect more? No single explanation is likely to account for the
evidence as presented to us, a combination of factors will have been at play
resulting in the conundrum that we are faced with.
6.5 Defining the term ‘child’ for Roman Britain
In discussing the children of Roman Britain, some mention must be made of the
definition of this term. The term ‘child’ is a culturally defined title with societies
imposing specific culture-based concepts and judgements regarding the definition
of a child. Childhood can be defined using a variety of parameters, both physical
and cultural, with the broad definition of childhood as being the period between
infancy and puberty (Chamberlain 1997: 249). The assigning of the term in a
Roman context though is made particularly confusing owing to the ambiguities
inherent in the meaning of the Latin terms for ‘child’ (Wiedemann 1989: 32-33;
Cunningham 1995: 23). Latin had no word equivalent to ‘baby’ and had several
words signifying ‘child’, none of them unambiguous (Cunningham 1995: 23).
Latin funerary inscriptions seldom used terms for the stage of childhood,
preferring instead to specify age in years and months (McWilliam 2001: 93, n.2).
Some Latin words related to the age of children, others to the parent/child
relationship and still others to the status of the child. Roman law distinguished
girls and boys under the ages of twelve and fourteen respectively as not yet
capable of taking the responsibilities of marriage and in ancient Rome adulthood
for boys was seen to begin at the age of sixteen or seventeen when a Roman male
donned the toga and could learn to fight (Wiedemann 1989: 114). Once again
93
though we are referring here to the upper classes and the transference of this
concept to the lower classes and the provinces is problematical.
One age related term is the Latin word infans, from which we get the English
infant. An isolated example of the use of this word, literally meaning ‘not
speaking’ is to be found on a tombstone from Carlisle (RIB 1: 961) which reads:
DIS
VACIA INF
ANS AN III
‘To the spirits of the departed; Vacia, an infant, aged 3.’ This dedication only adds
to our confusion though over the definition of the term but may be evidence, rarely
available to us, of the attitude of the parents and the contemporary use of the
terminology.
Investigation and discussion of age-related aspects of mortuary archaeology
inevitably requires a framework within which specific age groups can be
accommodated. In the context of mortuary archaeology in Roman Britain there is
generally no clear distinction between infants and children or children and young
people. The term child can be very vague. In some cemetery reports infants are
seen to be babies of up to six months whereas in others an infant can be anywhere
up to around eighteen months old. In the report on the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London the term infant is used in discussions to mean any person between 0-5
years, while a child is seen to be between 6-12 years and an adolescent 13-18 years
(Barber and Bowsher 2000: 278). The report included a table enumerating the
number of burials by age in years (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 279). Similarly, at
the Bradley Hill settlement, the term infant is also used to indicate those under five
years old. However, in the report on the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester the
discussions specify anyone under the age of eighteen as juvenile while a table
breaks the number of burials down into two year age spans (McWhirr et al. 1982:
136-137). In the Brougham Cemetery report an infant is classed as less than five
years while anyone between five and twelve years is classed as a child (Cool 2004:
94
288). Thus the classification of children by age varies with no clear terminology
framework.
Osteologically, age indicators are usually able to assign a reasonably reliable age
to the skeleton of young persons, using the state of eruption of the teeth and the
stage of epiphyseal union. However, the general terms of infant and child are still
subjective. Is an eighteen-month-old an infant or a child? In the case of RomanoBritish burials, as indeed in the case in Roman burials in general, there appear to
be age differentiated distinctions made in the burials of very young children
compared to those of children in the older age group. As such it seems necessary
to discuss these categories individually.
The Oxford English Dictionary defines the term infant as ‘a child during the
earliest period of life. Now most usually applied to a child in arms, a babe; but
often extended to include any child under seven years of age.’ This doesn’t make
the answer to our problem any clearer. A child is anyone under the age of puberty,
the use of the term infant though is dependent on cultural, social and in fact legal
factors and is interchangeable with the term child for anyone up to seven years of
age. For the purposes of this discussion, in line with modern usage, and indeed
with Pliny’s definition I intend to apply the term infant to those up to the age of
eighteen months while the term child will be used to define those between eighteen
months and the mid teens. Inevitably there will be instances where this distinction
is blurred and older or younger examples may be included.
6.6 Infants
To turn first to infants and the burial rites and burial places afforded them in a
society generally considered to have held little regard for any ceremony associated
with these early deaths.
6.6.1 Infanticide
95
No discussion of young children in the Roman period can be complete without at
least broaching the subject of infanticide, seen by many as one of the reasons
behind the seemingly low number of infant burials in Roman Britain. Infanticide in
the Roman world has been a widely debated issue for many years (Brunt 1971;
Engels 1980; Harris 1982, 1994; Watts 1989; 2001, 2005; Mays 1993; Scott 2001)
and there is general agreement that the practice did exist. The mere denunciation
of it by Christian writers (Brunt 1971: 150) and the outlawing of the practice by
the emperor Valentinian in AD374 provide evidence of its existence. The laws of
the Twelve Tables seems to have made it obligatory to expose deformed infants
(Brunt 1971: 149), although the degree of deformity is not clear and there has been
recent questioning of the evidence upon which our ‘orthodox prejudices’ regarding
the treatment of disabled infants in past societies are based (Scott 2001). Literary
evidence points to the exposure of unwanted babies (Watts 2005: 52) and even the
actions of the emperor Claudius confirms the practice when he exposed his infant
daughter after doubting paternity (Suet. Claud. 27). The extent of female
infanticide has also produced some interesting arguments and, once again, it seems
to be generally agreed that the exposure of female infants was a more prevalent
practice than the similar treatment of male infants. Engels (1980), relying on a
demographic argument, maintains that extensive female infanticide in the ancient
world was ‘impossible’. However his hypothesis has been severely questioned
(Harris 1982), while Brunt in his highly respected Italian Manpower (p.151)
considers it probable that female infanticide was more prevalent. There are factors
though which could be argued for preferential male infanticide in the Roman
world as well as female. In the sewer beneath a bathhouse at Ashkelon, the
remains of more than 100 neonate skeletons dating to the Roman period and
believed to be the victims of infanticide, were discovered. DNA extracted from
the bones was analysed and it was discovered that there was a much higher
incidence of males than females in this burial population. The use of such
bathhouses for prostitution has led to the hypothesis that these infants may have
been the unwanted offspring of courtesans and that select female babies may have
been kept to be raised as prostitutes (Faerman et al. 1998). The extent of the
96
practise of infanticide is open to question, and female infanticide as a probable
cause of gender imbalances in some Romano-British cemeteries has seen
arguments for both sides (Davison 2000; Watts 2005). Scott (2001) very rightly
points out though the need to be aware of historically emplaced assumptions
regarding preferential female infanticide and the risks inherent in our acceptance
of them. Scott is able to cite evidence of historical instances of preferential male
infanticide, yet many historians continue to work with a preconceived set of ideas
and beliefs regarding the removal from ancient societies of unwanted female (and
disabled) children.
Exposure and killing of unwanted infants in past societies has always been one of
the factors influencing population control. It may have been morally frowned upon
in different societies and during different periods, but was often considered
acceptable practise all the same. Throughout the Middle Ages evidence points to
the frequent disposal of unwanted babies (de Mause 1974: 29) and by the
eighteenth century records begin to show the extent of the practice in many areas
of Europe, with thousands of babies abandoned every year (Cunningham 1995:
92). Abandonment, or exposure, appears to have been the major means of
disposing of an unwanted baby throughout history, and only the establishment of
foundling homes saved the lives of many of these children. Recent infant mortality
rates reflect advances in antenatal and postnatal care but statistics gathered from
previous eras may reflect differences in data between archaeological and statistical
evidence. Archaeological evidence may include the bones of stillborn children
while statistics may exclude them (Allason-Jones 1989: 42). Allason-Jones
concludes that, while infanticide is a possibility in Roman Britain, there may be no
more infant skeletons than can be accounted for by natural events.
The distinction between the exposure of infants and infanticide is imperceptible
but not insignificant. Exposure of the child was very often undertaken in the
Roman world in the knowledge that there was a good chance of the infant being
found and raised, frequently as a slave. We have the letter from Pliny to Trajan
97
requesting clarification on the treatment of these ‘foundlings’ and Trajan’s reply
referring to ‘those who were exposed at birth, then brought up in slavery by those
who rescued them’ (Pliny Ep.x. 65-66). That there was ancient debate on the
subject is unquestionable 4 and although there was opposition to infanticide and
abortion, abandonment appears to have been an accepted part of the Roman social
agenda (Boswell 1988: 89). Legislation dealing with child abandonment addressed
both the rights of the child and those of the natural and surrogate parents. The
assumed outcome of the abandonment of infants was that the child would be found
and raised and in no source do we find the possibility of death alluded to (Boswell
1988: 129). Ancient Greek and Roman theatre reflects legal and social structures
and is littered with examples of the discovery of abandoned children, raised by
others. The use of the word ‘abandonment’ connotes a disregard for the child’s
welfare and an abdication of parental responsibility. In truth the main methods of
abandonment in Roman society – the sale of the child, substitution and exposure in
a public place – point to at least a vestige of concern for the child. In reality, the
number of exposed infants surviving though is likely to have been relatively low.
A newborn’s fragility and vulnerability when exposed to the elements, and the
risks inherent in such an action, would have necessitated the rescuing of the child
in a very short space of time to ensure its survival. Exposure or abandonment,
rather than the more blatant killing of the child may have been done to assuage the
conscience of the parents, but was likely to have been just as effective as
smothering and drowning.
The exposure or deliberate killing of infants may be attributed to both social and
financial considerations. Illegitimacy or the desire for a child of a particular sex
would have been common motives, but the financial pressures imposed by
deteriorating economic conditions would have been a major influential factor.
History has shown that in times of food shortage and economic crisis the number
of abandoned babies increases (Cunningham 1995: 93), however, ancient sources
4
For in depth discussion on ancient source material the reader can do no better than John Boswell’s
foray into child abandonment in The Kindness of Strangers (1988) New York (Pantheon Books)
98
often imply that it was the children of the wealthy who were abandoned and raised
by the rural poor (Boswell 1988: 103-105).
What relevance then does this all bear to the situation in Roman Britain for which
we have no legislative or literary evidence? Was abandonment as prevalent as it
appears to have been in Rome and was infanticide practised or in fact condoned?
Watts (2005: 52) believes that ‘the practice of selective infanticide came to Britain
with the Romans in the first century AD and continued virtually until the end of
the occupation.’ Watts’ conclusions are based on an investigation into the
discrepancy of male to female burials in Romano-British cemetery populations,
and she assigns ‘a proliferation’ of female infant killings as the basis of this
discrepancy. Watts sees the more balanced sex ratios in the later cemetery
populations as evidence of the changing attitude towards infanticide brought about
by the emergence of Christianity. Mays (1993) concludes that the high number of
perinatal infant remains of full term babies on several Romano-British sites is also
evidence of the practice of infanticide. However, infanticide is not only a Roman
concept. As has been shown, societies throughout history have practised
abandonment, exposure or deliberate killing of unwanted babies in varying
degrees. Generally it is an outward reaction, the extent fluctuating, to forces of
economy and necessity.
Unfortunately the practice of the exposure of infants is not likely to be evident in
the archaeological record. Children dying through this practice are unlikely to have
been buried, formally or informally, their remains are more liable to have been
scattered by animals and the forces of nature. There is the possibility of these
abandoned infants being raised as slaves (assuming they are found in time). From
Roman Britain however, we have epigraphic evidence for only a handful of slaves
(Birley 1979: 145) and the extent of slavery in the province is unknown. The
recent discovery of a tombstone in Gloucester (fig. 6.2), dedicated by a master to
his fourteen year old slave, though shows how a few chance discoveries could
change our concept of such theories.
99
Fig. 6.2: Fragment of a Roman tombstone from Gloucester. Inscription translates as: ‘Martialis, the
slave of […]lonius, aged 14, lies here.’ (From Tomlin and Hassell 2005: 475)
It is likely that some of the larger farms and estates of Roman Britain will have
been run with the assistance of slaves but there is no evidence for the large slaverun estates found in Italy (Salway 1997: 436). We know of a pre-invasion slave
trade from Strabo, with archaeology providing corroborating evidence in the form
of slave-chains. With slaves a valuable commodity throughout the Empire, the idea
of a trade in them, from Britain, throughout the imperial period is a possibility. We
know from Diodorus, for instance, of the exchange of slaves for Italian wine in
Gaul. Evidence from the south coast of Britain for the importation of large
amounts of Mediterranean wine (Cunliffe 1987: 161-172) could indicate the
existence of a reciprocal trade, exchanging slaves for this Roman luxury item. The
feasibility of the raising of children, by dealers, for this purpose however is
questionable. Time and money would have been needed and a return would have
been slow in coming.
100
Four tombstones from Britain dedicated to children, hint at the likelihood of
children being raised by other than their natural parents as being a common
occurrence. One commemorative inscription from Bath and one from Old Penrith
are dedicated to foster children while on two tombstones from Risingham specific
mention is made by the father that the dedications are to their own daughters.
6.6.2 Burial rites of infants
The fact that the young are seemingly ‘invisible’ in the mortuary record of Roman
Britain leads to the regular assumption on the part of historians and archaeologists
of their peripheral existence. Pliny regarded infants as not possessing a soul until
after the age of teething and this has been taken by most as the reasoning behind
their exclusion from the law which forbids burial within the city walls and
consequently their exclusion from adult cemeteries. This belief may well have
meant that special burial rites to placate the gods of the afterlife were not
necessary (Philpott 1991: 101). However, it does not necessarily mean that these
infants were interred with any less ritual than adults. It may simply mean a
different ritual. One that didn’t require the formal adornments of an adult
ceremony but one, none the less, that incorporated the observance of custom and
routine.
Many see the exclusion of infants from the mainstream cemeteries as evidence for
their marginality (Pearce 2001: 126). Only 6 out of a total of 550 dead in the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London were less than a year old (Barber and
Bowsher 2000:279). At the Queenford Farm site, the 1972 excavations produced
only one infant burial – that of an apparently premature baby of 7-8 months in
utero buried with its mother (Harman et al. 1981: 148-149) – while the 1981
excavations found evidence of only two further infants of less than a year old
(Chambers 1987: 60). At Baldock, Hertfordshire five examples of infants buried in
coffins have come to light (Burleigh et al. 2006: 286). At the cremation cemeteries
at Brougham and Skeleton Green the figures follow this pattern. At Brougham
101
there was no evidence of infants less than six months old (Cool 2004: 289) while
at Skeleton Green only one infant under a year old was discovered (Partridge
1981: 284-286).
Literary references allude to the inhumation of infants at a time when cremation
was the rule (Pliny Natural Histories VII, 16.72, Juvenal Satires XV, 138-40). The
lack of cremated infant remains in the Brougham Cemetery and the Skeleton
Green Cemetery, although possibly the result of taphonomic processes, could be
evidence of this practice. A young child found inhumed in a burial area in
Canterbury, along with a small group of cremation burials (Fitzpatrick 2002: 352)
could also be indicative of this rite. The act of cremating a body is only part of the
burial process. McKinley (2000: 38) demonstrates that a cremation burial is
actually comprised of two parts - the cremating of the body and the subsequent
burial of the remains. With the case of infants, during this period, it was simply
that part of the process was being bypassed, the burning of the body. Fire, in most
societies, is seen as a purifying agent. Could it be that infants were seen as
untainted by society and therefore both the purification and the necessity to
conform to the rules of society, in regard to burial, were deemed unnecessary?
Inhumation of infants, rather than cremation as for the rest of the community is
still practised today in some cultures. In the Hindu religion, where cremation is the
rite, intended to release the soul from its earthly existence, the bodies of babies and
young children are not cremated but returned to the earth. As part of a complex
ritual the cremation of the body helps in the removal of impurity and mortality in
order that the restless soul may be freed from its state of being dead in order to
reach the world of heaven (Michaels 1998: 131-144). As with the difficulties
inherent in the assigning of a specific age to the term infant in a Roman context,
so, the same problem occurs in the Hindu religion. Young children must not be
cremated as fire offerings as they are outside the ritual of life (Michaels 1998:
147). However, the age at which this point is reached is variable, from the time a
child cuts its teeth (remarkably similar to Pliny’s definition of Roman infants)
102
through to initiation (Michaels 1998: 147), which takes place between the ages of
eight and twelve depending on social class (Michaels 1998: 77).
Although the remains of infants are rarely found in Romano-British cemeteries,
this does not mean that these youngsters are, or indeed were, invisible. We have
evidence of their burial. It is accepted that they were not buried according to the
rites accorded the adults but these infant burials were subject to their own customs.
The fact that so many have been discovered associated with buildings implies the
observance of a specific routine in many communities. It is often believed that
young children were regarded as social non-persons and that a casual attitude was
taken towards their disposal in order to alleviate some of the anxieties implicit in a
society with a high infant mortality rate (Morris 1992: 81). I would argue though
that far from being casually treated, the bodies of many of these infants were
accorded a high degree of attention and were buried according to specific
requirements.
The size of infants’ bones, their susceptibility to decomposition and vulnerability
in the excavation process has undoubtedly removed much of the evidence.
Although in many cases the number of infant remains discovered on RomanoBritish sites, may not be representative of the number of infant deaths in the
community, the numbers are significant enough to propound a process of burial
involving custom, routine and consistency in a manner sanctioned by the
community.
The discovery of the remains of infants from Roman Britain tends to fall into one
of two categories; those buried with a degree of formality within settlement areas,
very often under and around buildings, and those that APPEAR to have been
unceremoniously discarded in ditches and pits.
6.6.3 Infant burials associated with buildings
103
For the first category, those infants buried under and around buildings, we have
ample evidence from Romano-British sites. The pertinent point here is that they
were buried, and they were buried in specific places. Burial is a ritual activity and
implies a certain amount of thought, care and concern. At the late 3rd/early 4th
century settlement at Bradley Hill we have 25 infant burials associated with
buildings, 21 of them in one building believed to have been used for agricultural
purposes. These 21 infants were interred in stone-slab cists with covering slabs and
were all well-spaced implying the existence of markers (Leech 1981: 189). At the
Winterton Villa, Lincolnshire, the remains of 26 infants were discovered, 16 of
them found in situ within several buildings while the remaining 10 were disturbed
but found in a context which associates them with the buildings. The dating of
these burials is problematic, however, the majority are believed to have been
interred between the late second century and the end of the fourth century (Stead
1976). At the nearby villa site at Old Winteringham, of the remains of 22 infants,
7 were burials within third to fourth century buildings while the other 15 were
associated with the buildings. From Lincoln we have 14 infant burials found south
of the city, many associated with extra-mural tradershouses. All died in the late
foetal or perinatal periods and were placed under the eaves or floors of buildings
(Jones 2002: 117). At the Lullingstone Roman Villa, Kent, three infants have been
found buried within the building, one of these in a bathroom and another in a
kitchen (Meates 1987: 307). Once again the care taken with these burials is
evident. One infant was placed in a hollow scooped out of the concrete floor, it
was then covered with clay and a pie-dish. A second infant was likewise placed in
a shallow hole into which some grave goods had also been placed (Meates 1987:
307). Infant inhumation burials were also found within, or under the eaves, of
several 4th century buildings at the Romano-British village of Catsgore (Leech
1982: 33). Generally, these infants appear to have been carefully buried in slab
lined cists with coverings of various items including a re-used roofing slate and
slabs of local stone (Leech 1982). An early 4th century building excavated at
Roman Way, Ancaster has produced evidence of at least seven infant inhumations
within the building. An interesting note here is that all but two of these burials
104
were in position before the building was erected. This fact could lead to certain
hypotheses being made. Were the infant remains placed there knowing that a
building was to be constructed and therefore may be seen possibly as foundation
burials or was the building constructed over an area where these burials had
already taken place? This situation is in contrast to that at Bradley Hill where the
burials of the infants were contemporary with, or after, the buildings functional use
(Leech 1981: 189).
Fig. 6.3: Infant burial found adjacent to one of the traders’ houses in Lincoln (From Jones 2002:
117)
In the examples given above most of the burials took place during the third to
fourth century. The possibility has been suggested of a different rite pertaining to
the burial of infants prior to this time (Leech 1982: 33). The evidence cited would
seem to substantiate this hypothesis but archaeological evidence is lacking. This
presumption may be given extra credence if we take into account Scott’s theories
regarding the association of infant burials with the appearance of corn-driers on
villa sites in the late third century (Scott 1991). She sees the changing economic
and social atmosphere of the later Roman period in Britain contributing to a
105
reversion to ancient custom and myth with these circumstances leading to a
correlation between infant and animal burial and fertility. The basis for the
interment of infant remains in domiciliary or agricultural buildings and their
surrounds though remains conjectural.
The possibility of sacrificial burial has been speculated upon with regard to infant
burials found in association with religious structures. The evidence for the
sacrificial killing of young children though is impossible to produce. The cause of
death is very rarely established even with adult remains from the ancient world,
the possibility of demonstrating intentional death from the remains of an infant
would be extremely slim. The bodies of infants interred in the foundations of the
Springhead Roman Temple in Kent are sometimes believed to be sacrificial
burials. Temple IV contained the burials of four infants believed to be around six
months old. Two of the burials took place at least ten years after the initial two and
were in the opposite corners of the temple, the initial ones being in the south-east
and north-east corners and the second two in the north-west and south-west
corners (Penn 1967: 121-122). One of each pair had been decapitated. Whether
these decapitations occurred as a deliberate sacrifice or whether what we see is the
opportunistic use of already deceased infants is problematic. Penn (1967: 122)
points out that ‘….. the fact that two similar ceremonies were carried out at
different periods …. It seems rather more than coincidence that two children
happened to die conveniently each time’. There are however two factors here that
should not be overlooked. Firstly, the second set of burials appears to have taken
place at least ten years after the initial two (Penn 1967: 121). Given the problems
of accurate dating, the time span between these burials is somewhat difficult to
define accurately. ‘At least ten years after …….’ is a very variable time frame. The
second factor to be considered is that, allowing for the high infant mortality rate,
there would probably have been no shortage of candidates for the honour of being
a foundation burial during this time period. Therefore Penn’s statement regarding
the unlikelihood of pairs of children dying conveniently each time is not
necessarily justified. Another example of the burial of infants in a religious context
106
is posited for two burials in building R1 at Ironmongers Piece near Marshfield,
Avon. These burials are much earlier than the previous examples of infant burials
on settlement sites, possibly as early as the second half of the first century and are
to be found in a circular masonry building which had replaced an earlier timber
version. The interpretation of this site as having a religious function is based on
several individual features (Blockley 1985: 36) which include the infant burials.
The remains of two infants were discovered in a pit, positioned next to a hearth,
which also contained a broken colour-coated flagon. Parallels to this building have
been found at several Romano-British religious sites (Blockley 1985: 36). The
function of this site was radically altered in the late third century and beyond with
the construction and later extension of a farmhouse. No infant burials were
discovered associated with the building during this period, however, they were
incorporated into the cemetery area. Of the fifteen inhumations in the cemetery,
dating from the late third to the late fourth century, eight were of infants. A
complete contrast to the later Romano-British sites previously discussed and an
indication of the flexible and variable attitude within the province.
Many infant interments are believed to be foundation or fertility related burials.
Those found buried around walls and foundations at the time of the construction of
the building are often construed as being interred there to bring good luck and
fortune. Examples of these are numerous; a couple will suffice as demonstration.
In the foundation of a stoke hole in a large room heated by a hypocaust in a Roman
period building in Conygeare, Cambridgeshire, was the burial of an infant (SMR
No: 00396a). Another infant, less than two months old was found carefully packed
inside a pot and buried underneath the ramparts in Worcester. The burial and
funerary pot are apparently contemporary with the rampart which makes it
possible that the burial is a foundation burial associated with the building of
defences (SMR No: WSM01276). As previously mentioned, a connection between
the burial of infants on villa sites from Roman Britain and a fertility ideology has
been suggested by Scott. Scott (1991: 119) sees the burial of infants and animals
on villa sites, in the later Roman period as ritual deposits, these burials being a re-
107
emergence of ancient myth and the revival of customs which had previously been
abandoned (Scott 1991: 119). She proposes the idea of women burying their
children in association with animals, malting floors and agricultural buildings as
an attempt by them to seek ‘…. greater control of agricultural production through a
strong fertility ritual which they specifically controlled’ (Scott 1991: 120).
Buildings are an integral part of any community serving functional as well as
social purposes. A large part of a family’s life would be spent in and around these
buildings, their working life would revolve around the agricultural buildings, while
their social and domestic sphere would centre on the main domiciliary building.
The burial of infants in such close proximity to the family, indicates not
necessarily abandonment and a heedless method of burial, but more possibly a
desire to maintain a connection with these infants, to keep them close to the heart
of the family.
6.6.4 Random infant burials
There is a marked contrast between what appears to be the careful and considered
burials of those infants in specific localities and the very much more haphazard
deposition of those in less organised burials. The remains of infants have been
found in ditches or in the fill of ditches and pits, often scattered over the settlement
area. The site of the Yewden Villa, Hambledon, Buckinghamshire, excavated in
the 1920’s, was ‘littered with baby skeletons, mostly in the yard…’ (SMR:
0086800400). The remains of ninety-seven infants were recovered. The inferences
implicit in the use of the term ‘littered’ however can be credited to the excavator.
Early excavation reports, as discussed previously (ch. 4.4.7), are often biased in
their reporting, affected by the preconceptions of the archaeologists, the RomanoBritons being tainted with the reputed barbaric nature of their existence. The
picture of the ancient Briton as a painted, skin-clad savage, established in the
seventeenth century (Piggott 1989: 10), took centuries to eliminate. The statement
by Rev. Nightingale in 1912 (ch. 5.4) regarding the ‘wild barbarism of the savage
(Briton)’ exemplifies this bias. The description of the Yewdon Villa site includes
108
the hypothesis that the bones from premature babies suggested abortion, once
again a relatively unfounded conclusion when other Romano-British sites (e.g.
Poundbury) have demonstrated the fairly frequent occurrence of still births and
likely miscarriages. At Silchester infant remains have been found in pits in nongrave contexts. Several of these also contained an array of animal bone, implying
deliberate placement of bone in a ritual context (Fulford et al. 2006: 204). At
Dragonby, North Lincolnshire, seven infant burials were discovered. While two of
them were found beneath a building, two were found in the filling of ditches, one
in a pit and two – premature newborns, possibly twins – beneath a kiln stoke hole.
In Hertfordshire, at Raffin Green, excavations unearthed nine baby skeletons in the
top fill of a ditch cut into chalk (SMR: 6309) while at Aston two infant burials
were found in one of the ditches (SMR: 7971). Examples from Hampshire include
the remains of two infants found in the upper fills of a ditch at Cowdery’s Down,
these are believed to have been deposited with rubbish when the ditch was
backfilled (SMR: SU65SE 54), and three infants found ‘buried in a ditch’ in
Basingstoke Town (SMR: SU65SE 66). From North Yorkshire we have evidence
of an infant burial excavated from the inner enclosure ditch of a site at Wharram,
Ryedale (SMR: NYM4359) and infant burials found within a ditch at Womersley,
Selby (SMR: NYM9657).
These types of examples generally suffice to indicate the widespread burial of
infants in an apparently arbitrary manner throughout Roman Britain. But, are we
correct in viewing them this way? Once again, these infants appear to have been
deliberately buried, albeit in less than salubrious positions, but they may have held
some significance not apparent in today’s cultural context. The scattered remains
of infants should not necessarily be construed as evidence of the disposal of these
bodies in a random manner. Ditches are known to have been re-cut and realigned
and filled with all manner of debris, the imperceptible remains of these infants
could have been removed from their original burial places and re-deposited over a
long period of time. Almost two thousand years of disturbance - climatic, animal
109
Fig. 6.4: Examples of Romano-British child burials. Top. Infant chalk burial (B831) Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 321). Middle. Stone lined child’s
grave 108 Bletsoe (From Dawson 1994: 46). Bottom. Child burial 18 Western Cemetery of Roman
London (From Watson 2003: 46).
110
and human - could possibly account for these, less than robust, remains having
been distributed over a wide area.
Regardless of the reasons behind the infant burials within the confines of buildings
and settlements, it is clear that most of these babies were not simply ‘dumped’
without due care and ceremony. A specific burial place has been chosen for each
one, for reasons we may never fully understand, and we can only assume that each
held some significance. On the other hand for those infants found in ditches it is
more difficult to be sure of the circumstances of their interment. The likelihood is
that they belonged to the lower strata of society but this should not preclude the
existence of some meaningful burial rite. Once again these children have been
buried, some in containers, a rite which required thought and choice.
6.7 Children
6.7.1 Introduction
The evidence for children past the age of infancy in the cemeteries of Roman
Britain, although still fairly scarce, is more abundant than for very young infants.
The numbers of these child burials varies greatly between cemeteries and, as
discussed earlier, there is no uniformity in the recording of the ages of these young
people. At the Queenford Farm Cemetery just over 33% of the 184 burials are of
children under fifteen (Chambers 1987: 60), this percentage also appears at the
Romano-British Cemetery on Watling Street with 33% of the 25 burials being of
children under the age of thirteen (Mackinder 2000: 26). At Lankhills,
reassessment of the ages of the skeletal remains has shown that 25% of the burials
were of children under the age of thirteen with the figure rising to 28% for those
under the age of eighteen (Gowland 2001). At other cemeteries the figures are
generally lower – at the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester just under 16% of the
362 burials were of children under fourteen (McWhirr et al. 1982: 137) and at the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London 15% of the 550 burials were of children
under thirteen (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 278). At the Racecourse Cemetery,
Derby, of the 61 inhumations, 12 (20%) were of children under fifteen (Wheeler
111
1985: 278), while at the Romano-British Cemetery at Trentholme Drive, York
only around 7% of the burials belonged to children under the age of sixteen
(Wenham 1968: 163).
Figures for cremation cemeteries are similar. At the cremation cemetery at
Skeleton Green, dating mainly to the second century, 7 of the 52 cremations
(13.5%) were of children under thirteen (Partridge 1981: 299) while at the later
third century Brougham Cemetery 35 of the 146 cremations (24%) were aged
under thirteen with a further 5 whose age was assessed at between five and
eighteen years (Cool 2004: 298)
The cemetery at Poundbury, Dorchester, provides us with an anomaly in regard to
the lack of children’s burials in a cemetery population (see fig. 6.4). At this site the
sample size is much larger with the excavation of over 1400 burials in total.
Around 30% of these were of immature individuals giving us the remains of over
400 children (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 171), 322 of them under the age of
thirteen. (Although other cemeteries have the equivalent percentages of children
the sample sizes are much smaller). These figures include a surprising number of
neonates (65) and infants under a year old (98) (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 212).
The cemetery in Clarence Street, Leicester could be further evidence of the burial
of a larger than expected number of young people in a cemetery area.
Unfortunately, only half of the skeletons were able to be aged, however, of those
almost 25% (12 out of 46) were under the age of fifteen years with seven of them
believed to be under eighteen months old (Gardner 2005: 63-64).
Children over a year old are not routinely found buried within or associated with
buildings. However there are exceptions. The complete skeleton of a child was
found beneath the floor of a building on the north side of the Roman town of
Caistor St Edmund (Gurney1998: 6). In these rare occurrences maybe we should
question the circumstances of both the death and the burial.
112
Fig. 6.5: Distribution of age groups – Poundbury Cemetery Site B. (From Farwell and Molleson
1993).
113
6.7.2 Family
In the burial record of Roman Britain there are numerous instances of the
interment of adults and children in close proximity, in what can often be
interpreted as family burials. These burials are found in isolated instances, on
smaller settlement sites and in some of the larger cemeteries. Instances in which
family connections may be proposed include:
•
Three adult and two infant burials along with the remains of a neonate
cranium believed to date to the late Roman period found at Ashwell,
Hertfordshire (SMR No: 1789).
•
The burials of an infant, a girl aged 12-13 years and a woman between 25 and
35 years in a fenced enclosure within a compound of a site at Godmanchester,
Cambridgeshire (SMR No: 00959).
•
The burials of three children and two women, one of the child burials being
richly furnished, at Linton, South Cambridgeshire (SMR No: 06165).
•
A probable late Roman burial consisting of two adults, male and female, two
children and two small dogs in a pit within a temple precinct in Canterbury
Kent. These burials are believed to have been contained within a wooden
structure and included both late Roman and Germanic grave goods. One of the
children may have died as the result of a blow to the head and it is possible
that this may have been a ritual burial (SMR No: TR 15 NW635).
•
The burials of two children and an adult female, in the mid-second century, in
a walled cemetery in the Romano-British Cemetery on Watling Street,
London. A further child was interred some time later, possibly mid-third
century, in this enclosure (Mackinder 2000: 18, 24).
•
The possibility of a further family group within this cemetery has been
proposed comprising the burials of an adult male aged 17-25 years, an adult
female aged 26-45 years and a child of 6-12 years. There are suggestions that
another grave may have been included in this group (Mackinder 2000: 21).
These were all 'plaster' burials, the coffins packed with chalk.
114
Cemetery areas incorporated in the fourth century villa site at Bletsoe,
Bedfordshire and the farmstead at Bradley Hill, Somerset, in use from the middle
of the third to the early fourth century, are likely to be examples of the burials of
family members. At Bletsoe, where 8 of the 56 burials were of children under five
years old, the high incidence of metopic suture may indicate familial relationships
(Dawson 1994: 31). The children in this cemetery appear to have been buried in a
discrete area but as part of the main cemetery. At Bradley Hill the unusually high
number of cranial and skeletal anomalies, common to all but two of the burials,
best explained as familial traits (Leech 1981: 199), point to an extended family or
inbred community. Of the 56 burials at Bletsoe, 7 were of infants, while at Bradley
Hill the infants numbered 34 of the 55 burials. Whereas the infants at the Bletsoe
site were interred in the main cemetery, those at Bradley Hill were buried in
buildings during the same period. In both cemeteries, only one child is represented,
both around five years old, reinforcing the idea that once past infancy the risk of
death decreased dramatically in these small communities.
The burials of children in what are believed to be family mausolea are indicative
of the considered burial of these children and the respect given to maintaining a
family connection. In the previously discussed Poundbury Cemetery, 17 burials
were found in ten mausolea or ditched funerary enclosures and, through skeletal
and pathological investigation, are believed to represent family groups. Of these
ten groups only three contained the burials of children. The largest of these, R8,
incorporated the remains of two adult males, two adult females, a twelve-year-old
child and two babies under a year old. The other two groups included only one
child in each – a ten year old along with an adult female in R2 and a one year old
in a lead lined coffin, along with an adult male and an adult female, in R10. In
both of these groups there was a further grave not excavated, in R10 this grave was
short and could possibly have belonged to another child. In the remainder of the
cemetery the children, including the neonates are buried amongst the adults (fig.
6.5). In several instances there are groupings of burials that may indicate family
units, these are groups of two or more children with an adult buried either side of
115
them. In one case there appears to be a clustering of eight neonates and infants
under a year old with an adult burial placed at each of the four corners of the
group. The layout of the Lankhills Cemetery also follows the idea of children
being buried throughout the cemetery area and it has been concluded that
children’s graves were dug in all areas of this cemetery throughout its period of
use (Clarke 1979: 126).
A rare artistic depiction of a family group from Roman Britain is to be found on a
tombstone from York (fig. 6.6). The dedication is to Flavia Augustina and her
children and was erected by her husband. The sculptured relief shows the whole
family. The children died young, the boy at 1 year 3 days and the girl at 1 year 9
months 5 days, yet they are depicted as older children with the boy appearing older
than the girl. They are dressed in identical clothing to that of their parents and
adopt the same stance, each holds a ball in the left hand. It would seem that the
members of this family were interred in the same burial area. The tombstone was
erected by the father to commemorate his wife and children, and was probably
done some years after the death of his children. The portrayal of the children as
older than they were when they died could indicate the use of tombstones
manufactured in bulk and available for purchase rather than specifically
commissioned stones. Also from York is the tombstone of Julia Velva (fig. 6.7),
portraying what was obviously a family group, comprising mother, father and two
children. We have no idea of the ages of the children, however this depiction, once
again, gives us an indication that family was important and the portrayal of a
family group significant.
116
Fig. 6.6: Tombstone of Flavia Augustina from York (in York museum)
(Photo. P. Lynch)
117
Fig. 6.7: Tombstone of Julia Velva and her family from York (in York museum)
(Photo. P. Lynch).
118
From Chester we have the discovery in 1874 of, not only a tombstone depicting an
adult and child (RIB 1: 558) but also the associated remains of the two individuals,
one of the very rare instances that a tombstone has been found in its original
position. The tombstone is dedicated to Flavius Callimorphus, aged 42 years and
Serapion, aged 3 years 6 months (fig. 6.8), the grave containing two skulls and
some of the bones of the upper body along with a coin of Domitian and a gold ring
(SMR No. 3002/2/5). The artistic rendition is relatively crude with the adult
reclining on a couch and caressing the boy, and from the inscription it is not clear
if the adult is the boy’s father.
Fig. 6.8: Artistic depiction of tombstone of Flavius Callimorphus and Serapion from Chester (RIB
1: 558).
We have a dedication, also from Chester, to two sisters, Restita, aged 7 years and
Martia, aged 3 years, erected by their parents (RIB 1: 566). The figures of the two
girls are reclining on a couch, however, the damage to the stone precludes any
119
observations on their portrayal. Other artistic renderings of children on tombstones
include a very crude depiction of a boy in a cloak, erected by his parents in
Brougham (RIB 1: 784) and a dedication to Marcus Cocceius Nonnus, aged 6
years found just north of Old Penrith Fort (RIB 1: 932). Marcus was holding what
appears to be a palm branch in his right hand and a whip in his left hand, possibly
a rare indication of a childhood game of chariot racing. The portrayal of the boy,
once again, appears to show a miniature version of an adult.
Bearing in mind the limitations inherent in assessing these commemorative
tombstones, including the likely social qualifications and the very small sample,
they do still allow us a brief consideration of the family attitude towards the
young. These children were obviously regarded as significant family members,
enough to warrant commemoration. Those whose likenesses were also included
possibly belonging to families of sufficient means to commission and erect these
memorials.
6.7.3 Gravegoods
Items found in children’s graves vary from animal bones and simple items of
pottery to elaborate jewellery, glass vessels and terracotta figurines. Whether it is a
manifestation of family wealth or prestige, an indication of individual eminence or
evidence of social ideology will remain a matter for speculation, however, there
are instances of the deposition of sometimes very elaborate items in the graves of
children. Items of value placed in a child’s grave may be taken to imply the wealth
of the family or the necessity to bestow upon the young deceased a sense of their
value and worth within the family. However, certain items placed in children’s
graves have symbolic meanings attached to them and may be indicative of a desire
by the family to promote an easy transition for the child from this world to the
next. The portrayal of snakes in jewellery is a common Graeco-Roman tradition
with the snake seen as a beneficent symbol with apotropaic and chthonic powers
(Barber and Bowsher 2000: 119).
120
Fig. 6.9: Top. Gold jewellery from child’s grave at Dartford, Kent, in British Museum, London
(Photo. P. Lynch). Bottom. Venus figurines from child’s grave B392 Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 189).
121
The placing of two of these bracelets made of gold, along with a gold chain set
with stone and a gold ring (fig. 6.9 top), in a child’s grave at Dartford, Kent (SMR
No: TQ 67 SW 89 – KE1713) implies, not only the possible wealth of the family
concerned but also, the value of the child to the family and the family’s concern
over the child’s transition. At Arrington, Cambridgeshire, the burial of a young
child in a lead coffin was accompanied by an array of figurines including the
‘Mother Goddess’, a bald-headed infant, a seated figure, a cloaked figure, rams
and a bullock or ox, which are believed to have been contained within a wooden
box. The Mother Goddess is seen as symbolic of death and regeneration and was
probably used as a symbol of protection for the infant in death and rebirth in the
Otherworld. The infant figurine was possibly a dedication to the infernal gods
while the animals, usually associated with sacrifice, could have been sacrificial
offerings to the gods (Taylor 1993). At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London a
child, also buried in a lead coffin, was accompanied by three Venus figurines (fig.
6.9 bottom), in addition to other grave goods. The burial of an infant, dying around
the the age of a year, discovered in Baldock, Hertfordshire, provides a unique
example of an elaborate funerary ritual associated with such a young child (fig.
6.10). This early fourth century burial incuded two small wooden caskets, with the
possibility of a third. One of the caskets was on the child’s chest and another by
the feet, their contents were presumably organic and may have been items of
clothing and shoes (Burleigh et al. 2006: 280). Along with the caskets in the grave
was a pipeclay figurine of the Dea Nutrix - a seated woman suckling two infants –
probably made in the Allier district of Gaul during the second century (Burleigh et
al. 2006: 284-285).
These popular figurines, found in house shrines as well as graves may represent
some belief in afterlife and regeneration, associated with the legend of Venus’
birth from the sea (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 189). The association of the Mother
Goddess and the Venus figurines with the ideology of fertility and childbirth
(Taylor 1993: 196; Barber and Bowsher 2000; 189) could be representative of the
desires of the parents of these young children to, not necessarily replace them, but
122
to placate the gods and be blessed with more children. These families were in a
position to facilitate the smooth transition of the child into the Otherworld and in
doing so possibly have hopes of their own.
Fig. 6.10: A reconstruction of the infant burial from Baldock (From Burleigh et al. 2006: 281)
At times the furnishing of the children’s graves is more elaborate than those of
allied adult graves. Of the 13, mainly third century burials recorded from the
Romano-British site at Greetwell, Lincolnshire, 2 were of children. The graves of
these children contained much more elaborate grave goods than any of the adult
burials, including a selection of jewellery (SMR No: 52842). At Linton, South
Cambridgeshire, the burials of 3 children and 2 women were discovered. The
grave of one of the children included bracelets, jet beads, fragments of a silver ring
and bone pin and items of glass and shale (SMR No: 06165) whereas there are no
details of grave goods belonging to either of the women. At the Poundbury
123
Cemetery, of the 59 burials with grave goods (other than coins or animal bones),
18 (30%) belonged to children (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 85-87). The grave
goods in these children’s burials often surpassing those of the adults in both
quantity and quality. Of the twelve graves in the cemetery containing bracelets,
seven of them belonged to children under fifteen with most of these seven
containing more than one bracelet along with other items of jewellery such as
rings, beads and necklaces.
In both the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester and the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London the most lavishly furnished burials are those of a child. At Cirencester the
‘richest’ burial belongs to that of a three-year old child which contained, amongst
other things, a silver-clasped bead necklace and two bone bracelets (McWhirr et
al. 1982: 128). Some of the items included with this burial are uncommon in a
Romano-British context. They include coral beads of a Mediterranean or Black
Sea origin, a bead of a type common in East European countries and bone
bracelets which are abnormal in Roman contexts (McWhirr et al. 1982: 132). The
coral beads are paralleled at Lankhills where they are found in five graves, three of
which belong to children. A collection of items in a child’s grave in the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London places it among the most elaborately furnished graves
in the cemetery. This burial, containing the Venus figurines (fig. 6.9) already
discussed, also included fragments of a type of glass rarely found in Britain (fig.
6.11), glass bowls and bottles, a pair of gold earrings which could also have held a
pearl and a bone pyxis, possibly used as a cosmetic container or trinket box
(Barber and Bowsher 2000: 186-189).
124
Fig. 6.11: Millefiori glass fragments from a child’s grave (B392) Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 126).
Burials of some of the children in the Lankhills Cemetery are also very lavishly
furnished, generally with personal ornaments. Of the sixteen graves containing
glass beads, eight belonged to children. Of that sixteen, four graves contained a
type of glass bead abnormal in a Roman context in Britain (Guido 1979: 292), all
four were burials of children. Two of the four also contain the only examples in
the cemetery of an amber bead and bone beads respectively. Once again these are
indicative of origins possibly outside the empire.
The Lankhills cemetery is unusual in the number of graves possessing grave goods
in a late Roman context. Of the 106 children represented, 40% were interred with
grave goods. The assemblages ranged from coins and pottery vessels to the
extensive arrays of personal ornaments including those originating outside of the
province. Arguments have been put forward for the appearance of intrusive
elements in the Lankhills Cemetery being indicative of the existence of a group of
foreigners in the Winchester area (Clarke 1979: 377-403) and several children
form part of this group.
The examples cited are from widely differing contexts, however, there are some
common elements. Some of the burials in the Lankhills Cemetery in Winchester
are seen to contain elements linking these people with areas outside the province
(Clarke 1979). While this theory has sometimes been questioned (Baldwin 1985)
125
the divergence of these graves from the general uniformity of the cemetery does
imply a rite which needs explanation. When we look at the geographical location
of some of the other well furnished children’s graves we may begin to see some
connection, tenuous as it may be. Both Cirencester and London, with their
cemeteries containing the ‘rich’ child burials, are likely to have been home to
several ‘foreign’ families involved in the military, administration or trade. Two of
the burials from the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London have been found to
contain items of Germanic form (burials B374 and B538) which may reflect a
Germanic tradition in which wealthy and high ranking individuals took their
personal possessions with them to the grave (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 183).
These burials and that of the richly furnished child’s grave were both found in the
same burial plot of the cemetery– the northern part of plot 2, north of the cemetery
road. The burial of the child from Arrington in Cambridgeshire containing the
pipeclay figurines and exhibiting Germanic, Gaulish and Eastern ritual influence is
along Ermine Street, the main road between London and York. It has been
suggested that the child’s parents may have been passing through or connected
with a posting-station in the area (Green 1993: 208).
Was the elaborate furnishing of some children’s graves then related to the influx of
foreigners? Although the evidence is very tenuous it does provide a basis for such
speculation. These furnished graves provide a genuine contrast to the usual
sparsely provisioned graves of the majority of the children of Roman Britain.
6.7.4 Coffins
The incidence of child burials in coffins in Romano-British cemeteries generally
follows the pattern for the cemetery as a whole and there is rarely any significant
difference between the percentages of adults and children buried in coffins. At
Lankhills, of the 106 children’s burials catalogued, 83 (almost 80%) had evidence
of burial within a coffin. The figure for the cemetery as a whole is 83% (Clarke
1979: 142). However, only 4 of the 17 neonates listed have evidence of being
buried likewise. At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London once again there was
126
no significant variation in the proportions of children buried in coffins compared
to the overall statistics (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 98). At the Poundbury
Cemetery the majority of inhumations had been placed in coffins (Farwell and
Molleson 1993: 114) and there once again appears to be no significant difference
between the adult and child burials as far as coffins were concerned. Of the 61
inhumations in the walled cemetery at the Racecourse Cemetery, Derby, 19 had
evidence of being buried within a coffin. Of these, 6 were burials of children.
Considering that only twelve children were buried in the cemetery this proportion
is relatively high.
The majority of coffins were made of wood with evidence remaining in the form
of nails and wood staining on the adjacent soil. It should be remembered however,
that many wooden coffins may have left no trace, some may have been made
without the use of nails or with wooden pegs and the appearance of a stain on the
soil only occurs under certain conditions. Other materials were used to construct
coffins and we have examples of children being buried in them. Lead was an
expensive commodity. To be buried in a coffin made of lead would seem to imply
a degree of wealth on the part of the deceased or their family. To bury a child in a
lead coffin strongly suggests that the death of the child was considered a loss and
that care and attention was expended during the burial. As of 1977, of those burials
in lead coffins that could be designated adult or child, the ratio of children to
adults was 1:2 (Toller 1977: 13). Excavations since that date at the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London produced two lead coffins – one the burial of an
adult, the other of a child (1:1) (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 95). At Poundbury of
the twenty seven lead coffins recorded, seven were burials of children and an
eighth of a fifteen year old female, fifteen were of adults and for the remainder no
age could be allocated (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 131-132), once again giving a
ratio of 1:2. Considering the general ratio of child to adult burials in general this
would seem a relatively high figure. (Using figures from five inhumation
cemeteries, Queenford Farm, Watling St, Lankhills, Bath Gate and the Eastern
127
Fig. 6.12: Decorated lead inner coffin of two-year-old child from Colchester (From Crummy et al.
1993: 124-125) (Top: Diagramatic representation of the decoration)
128
Cemetery of Roman London, the ratio of child to adult burials is approximately
1:4). The burial of the child from Dartford, Kent containing the snake bracelets
was in a lead coffin as was that of the child from Swale whose grave contained
two gold armillae, a jet ring and a gold finger ring (SMR No: TQ 86 SE 19 –
KE3118).
The two children, already mentioned, whose graves contained an array of
figurines, were also buried in lead coffins while one of only two lead coffins found
from the Roman period in Cirencester up to 1982 contained the remains of a child
of around nine months (McWhirr et al. 1982: 92). In Colchester an elaborately
decorated lead coffin, within a timber one, held the remains of a two year old child
(fig. 6.12). The lead lining of this mid-fourth century burial had been carefully
crafted and contained only the skeleton of the child. At the head of the coffin, but
outside of it, was a deposited pottery jug (Crummy et al. 1993: 123-125).
Stone coffins are in evidence in some cemeteries though the use of these
containers for the burial of children seems to have been very limited. At the Bath
Gate Cemetery five stone coffins have been discovered but only one contained the
remains of a child, aged around nine months (McWhirr et al 1982: 91). At
Poundbury, ten stone coffins were found. Although only the remains in six were
aged, with no evidence of children, the size of the remaining coffins seems to
indicate that they all belonged to adults (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 133).
Although this is only a small sample number the absence of children in stone
coffins is interesting as children were buried in lead in the same cemetery.
6.7.5 Health and diet of children
‘67% of those born died before the age of four’ (Leech 1981: 195).
These are the statistics for the Romano-British settlement at Bradley Hill,
Somerset. Leech then goes on to say that those surviving this period generally
survived to adulthood. Although it is likely that at least some members of this
129
community relocated, the burials at Bradley Hill are popularly understood to
account for the population of the settlement over its lifetime, around a hundred
years. This is in contrast to the majority of cemeteries where either the cemetery
has not been excavated to its fullest extent or the lack of children’s burials has led
to the assumption that this group is not fully represented. Also, to the advantage of
the analysis of the Bradley Hill burials, we have the infant burials within the
settlement area as well as the adult cemetery nearby.
But how realistically can we determine the health of the children through their
skeletal remains? Unfortunately, with few exceptions, osteological and
pathological analysis of children’s remains is rarely undertaken except in the case
of those found in the major cemeteries. This obviously gives us a very limited
view and one which is likely to be biased on social or economic grounds.
As discussed previously (ch. 5.1.3), most infectious diseases, particularly those
associated with childhood, are unlikely to have left any discernible trace in the
skeletal remains of these children. However, the existence of certain osteological
traits can sometimes conceivably be seen as being indicative of certain diseases.
For example at the Poundbury Cemetery, it has been considered possible (although
by no means definite) that the existence of infantile cortical hyperostosis in 57
infants and children under the age of three years could be related to smallpox
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 190).
Lines of hypoplasia on teeth and Harris Lines on the long bones are firm indicators
of periods of childhood stress or malnutrition. Harris Lines indicate interruption of
the growth process leading to radio-opaque bands of increased mineral density on
long bones (Schwartz 1995: 15) which show up on a radiograph. Unfortunately
immature individuals are not routinely radiographed and this evidence is therefore
rarely discovered. More evidence is obtainable from teeth which often survive
better than bone. Lines of hypoplasia found on the teeth of both children and adults
form as a result of disturbance to the growth of dental enamel and are generally
130
accounted for by disease and poor nutrition (Mayes 1998: 156). For these lines to
be formed normal growth patterns must resume and it therefore follows that what
we are seeing is not a childhood consisting of continuous malnutrition but short
periods of either some form of dietary deficiency or illness. Owing to the fact that
hypoplasias form only during the period when the enamel of the tooth crown is
developing it is possible to estimate the age at which the child was affected.
Analysis of the individuals at the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester indicates that
around 12% (44) of the population of the cemetery revealed evidence of, mainly
slight, dental hypoplasia. Illness or dietary deficiency is believed to have attacked
these people as children between the ages of two and four years (McWhirr et al.
1982: 150). At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London, the figures are similar
with 11.9% (of 550 individuals) affected by dental hypoplasia (Barber and
Bowsher 2000: 284), although the affected teeth in this cemetery population
though were different to those in the Cirencester population. There was a higher
incidence of hypoplasia in the canines and second molars in the Bath Gate sample,
leading to the assumption of the age of the affected children being around two to
four years. In the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London the teeth most frequently
affected were the canines and first molars, indicating a slightly earlier age of
infliction than the Bath Gate Cemetery. At the Poundbury Cemetery, 27% (39) of
juveniles were found with evidence of enamel hypoplasia, more than double the
number at the Bath Gate Cemetery and the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London.
Although no details are available regarding the incidence of enamel hypoplasia at
the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, York, the recently discovered Romano-British
cemetery in Driffield Terrace, York has produced evidence of this condition. Of
the sixty-one skeletons with surviving dentition, thirty-seven (60%) displayed this
evidence of bouts of childhood stress (Tucker forthcoming). However, the results
from this cemetery cannot reliably be compared to those of the other cemeteries
quoted as this community is believed to be of a military nature compared to the
civilian communities represented by the others. Fourteen burials from a RomanoBritish site at Barnetby Le Wold, Lincolnshire, produced evidence of only one
131
case of enamel hypoplasia. This was found in seven out of the eight premolars of a
teenager (Start 2002: 27). In communities such as this, where evidence for periods
of childhood stress are confined to single individuals or a limited number of
people, it could be construed that, rather than being caused by nutritional
deficiencies, which are likely to have affected a larger proportion of the
community, this particular child could have succumbed to a serious illness or
infection.
Diseases of malnutrition in children include such things as rickets, scurvy and
anaemia. Rickets, due to a vitamin D deficiency through dietary deficiency or lack
of exposure to sunlight, was manifested in a few skeletons of Romano-British
children. Two possible cases of rickets appear at Poundbury (Farwell and
Molleson 1993: 179), one at the Watling Street Cemetery (Mackinder 2000: 27)
and a few at the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London (Barber and Bowsher 2000:
286). A possible case of infantile scurvy, indicating a vitamin C deficiency was
also found at this cemetery (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 286). No skeletons showed
signs of rickets or conditions due to vitamin deficiency or dietary defect at the
Trentholme Drive Cemetery in York (Wenham 1968: 158). A six year old at the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London appeared to have suffered severe
environmental and/or nutritional stress with evidence of stunting, rickets, enamel
hypoplasia and the presence of Harris lines (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 286).
Lead is harmful if ingested in significant quantities. The excretory system cannot
eliminate lead when it is ingested in quantities exceeding those found naturally and
over 90% of any lead ingested is retained in the skeleton (Mays 1998: 191) (see
also ch.5.1.3). Children, in particular, are susceptible to lead poisoning and can
become colic, anaemic, suffer from malnutrition through their failure to eat and be
more susceptible to disease (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 176). Skeletal remains of
the children provide evidence of exposure to lead in the Poundbury Cemetery,
Dorchester and the cemetery at Henley Wood, while the skeletons from the Bath
Gate Cemetery, Cirencester, indicate excessive exposure to lead by the inhabitants
132
of this area. At Poundbury, 50% of all of the children’s skeletons had radio opaque
bands at the ends of the long bones with densities consistent with lead intake
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 176). In a study conducted by Waldron, Mackie and
Townsend (1976) twenty-five children from the Poundbury Cemetery and six from
Henley Wood were analysed. The lead levels in all were far in excess of modern
day figures and serious consideration was given to the probability of some of these
children having ingested fatal amounts of lead (Waldron et al. 1976: 226). The
levels of lead in the remains of the children from the Cirencester cemetery are far
in excess of those of two children who died from the disease in Rotherham in 1956
(Waldron 1982: mf. 4). Bone lead concentrations in these two individuals was
recorded as about 125 micrograms lead/gram dry weight of bone whereas at
Cirencester levels found in the children were often above 200 μg/g, sometimes
exceeding 400 μg/g (Waldron 1982: mf.4). This would be a clear indicator of the
likelihood of Romano-British children in this area being weakened by exposure to
lead and being more likely to succumb to infection and illness.
The existence of lead in the remains of the children can be accounted for from
various sources. There may occasionally be some contamination of the remains by
lead in the soil, however, this appears to be minimal and is not seen as causing
serious discrepancies in the findings (Waldron 1982: 204). The transfer of lead
from soil to skeletal remains is more pronounced in acidic soil which does not
favour good preservation of bone, it therefore follows that soils which allow good
preservation of bone will not contribute significantly to the lead content in them
(Waldron et al. 1976: 224). Lead eating and cooking utensils are likely to have
been the main source of the lead in the bodies of these people, many recipes
required the evaporation of liquid and fruit juices in a lead vessel with the acidity
of the fruit causing a leaching of the lead from the vessel to the mixture. There is
certainly a likelihood that children would have been given fruit juices to drink, and
the possibility that fruits would have been ground up and fed to babies and
children at an early age. The relatively close proximity of Dorchester, Cirencester
and Henley Wood to the lead mines in the Mendips could have some significance.
133
The condition of porotic hyperostosis, evidenced by pitting of the bones of the
skull and particularly cribra orbitalia, evidenced by the pitting on the roofs of the
orbits usually results from iron deficiency anaemia (Mays 1998: 142). The general
health of children can usually be assessed by the frequency of the appearance of
these lesions. At the Poundbury Cemetery, 28% of the skulls available for
examination, showed evidence of cribra orbitalia (Farwell and Molleson 1993:
185), however, 41% (83) of juveniles whose skulls were able to be examined were
affected (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 179). At the Bath Gate Cemetery figures
were not dissimilar. Just over 17% of the 226 orbits examined and over 35% of
juvenile orbits showed evidence of the condition (Mc Whirr et al. 186). At the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London, however, less than 5% of the cemetery
population of 550 was affected (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 285) while at the
Watling Street Cemetery there was no trace of cribra orbitalia (Mackinder 2000:
27). However, the condition was found, probably in its early stages, in the skeleton
of the young child buried with the array of pipeclay figurines at Arrington,
Cambridgeshire (Duhig 1993: 202) and there is evidence of its existence in the
recent excavations in York (Tucker: forthcoming).
Iron deficiency may be due to lack of iron in the diet, but may also result from
disease, particularly infections or parasite infestations (Mays 1998: 142). Studies
have in fact shown that low dietary iron is rarely the main cause of iron deficiency
anaemia (Mays 1998: 144). In the case of the community at Poundbury, and
particularly the children, their lowered immunity from prolonged exposure to high
lead levels could have contributed to a heightened possibility of succumbing to
infection and parasitic infestation. Evidence of parasites, although previously
thought only to have survived in waterlogged conditions, has been isolated in two
graves from the Poundbury Cemetery proving their existence in this community
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 197-198). The population of the Bath Gate Cemetery
was considered to have enjoyed a ‘moderately abundant and well-balanced diet’
(McWhirr et al. 1982: 186) and the implication there would be, that infection
134
rather than dietary deficiency is likely to have caused the anaemia. The high
numbers of children with this condition in both of these cemeteries, as opposed to
the low figures at the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London and Watling Street,
could also imply a different standard of living or different cultural practices. It is
considered likely that the standard of hygiene and the conditions under which food
was stored and prepared in the community serviced by the Eastern Cemetery of
Roman London, was of an adequate to high level (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 287),
while this was possibly not the case in other areas, particularly Poundbury.
There is limited evidence for other forms of childhood illness or complaint. A mild
case of hydrocephalus is suspected in a ten-year old at Poundbury and the small
child from Arrington, accorded an elaborate burial in a lead coffin was also thus
afflicted. This condition, which results in a greatly enlarged skull can be caused by
embryonic developmental disorders, by trauma at birth or by infection (Duhig
1993: 202). In the case of the Arrington infant it is believed that the severity of this
condition would have caused the death of the child (Duhig 1993: 202). Spina
bifida occulta is evidenced in six juveniles from Poundbury while the only case of
spina bifida proper is suspected in a sixteen year old girl who was probably
handicapped (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 187). Also at the Poundbury Cemetery
is evidence for a six-year old child who would have been very, if not totally, deaf
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 187) and the existence of head lice, in the form of
spent egg cases in the hair of a youth (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 178).
As a comparison, the children of the Poundbury Cemetery appear to have had a
very different beginning to life in terms of their health than did those of the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London. In the London cemetery less than 5% of the
immature individuals showed evidence of stunted growth, relative to their dental
development age. Combined with the small number of cases of cribra orbitalia,
this is indicative of a reasonably adequate diet in children and careful hygiene
practices requiring safe weaning (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 285). The relatively
low incidence of enamel hypoplasia in this cemetery population would also add to
135
this theory, the only exception being the young child, discussed above, who
showed signs of severe nutritional and/or environmental stress. As this was the
only example to present such evidence it is possible that the child had spent the
early part of his life elsewhere and was not a part of this community in his more
formative years, or that he had some other major health issues not evident in his
remains. In contrast to the London cemetery, those in the Dorchester cemetery
appear to have had a poor start to life and may never have fully recovered. Infants
between three and nine months old failed to grow adequately, their bones were
poor and there is evidence of disease (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 176). In
research into infant and child death it has been suggested that: ‘In the great
majority of cases, infant and child death is the ultimate outcome of a combined
process of multiple recurrent infections and nutritional deficiencies which
cumulatively retard growth, lead to excessive loss of weight and progressively
wear down the individual’s resistance until finally an ordinary illness …… results
in death’ (Bengtsson et al. 2004: 369). The differences we see in the two
cemeteries with regard to the growth patterns and health of these young children
could be an indication of the differing social attitudes towards health and hygiene
and could be accounted for by different weaning processes. Early weaning and the
dietary exposure of the Dorchester infants to lead could be the major cause of their
poor health (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 176). John Landers (1993: 151-152), in
his studies into the demographic history of London 1670-1830, postulates that
weaning of infants removes the immunological protection against airborne
infection afforded these children and when breast-feeding of infants became more
common place amongst the aristocracy in the late eighteenth century the death rate
of children under five fell dramatically (Cunningham 1995: 69). It has also been
shown that in pre-industrial communities where breast-feeding was universal and
prolonged, infant mortality was normally quite low, whereas, when it was brief,
mortality was much higher (Wrigley et al. 1997: 207). It therefore follows that
early weaning conventions in some Romano-British communities could account
for a higher infant mortality rate than is found in others.
136
The lifestyle of the children from Poundbury may also have been harsher from an
earlier age. Squatting facets are evident in the left tibia of 18% (5) of juveniles and
in the right tibia of 21% (6) of those available for study (Farwell and Molleson
1993: 179). In the same cemetery squatting facets were noted in 32% of women
and only 12% of men (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 200). This could denote the
possibility that children were involved, at an early age, in the grinding of corn with
the women, necessitating this squatting position. It could also be though that the
children would rest or play in the squatting position so leading to the formation of
these squatting facets on the joint surfaces on the talus and the lower end of the
tibia.
6.8 Discussion – evidence for the young
An investigation into the burials of the children is instrumental in giving us an all
encompassing view of the social and cultural diversity of the population of Roman
Britain. These young people are a reflection of the intricate and blended society of
which they were a part. Their burials reveal an array of different rites, different
customs, different habits and differing views which were dictated by such diverse
factors as time, place, individual and community attitudes and beliefs. Financial
and material circumstances may have had an impact on the perceptible display of
ritual, however, care and concern is apparent in the observance of a degree of
convention or formality in the burial of the majority of children, regardless of their
position in the hierarchy of the community.
Although there were criteria that were generally followed regarding the burial of
infants and children, the evidence shows that these criteria were not always strictly
adhered to. There was flexibility and variation. Infants were not usually buried
within the adult cemeteries but, as evidenced by the 3rd/4th century cemetery at
Ironmongers Piece and at the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester, this was not
always the case, and it appears that individual settlements may have followed
different customs. At the Poundbury Cemetery 15% of the 1074 skeletons listed in
the age distribution table of the cemetery were either neonates or infants (Farwell
137
and Molleson 1993: 212) while 50% of the 15 burials at the Ironmongers piece
cemetery were of infants (Blockley 1985: 73-76).
Children, once past infancy, were very often buried alongside the adults of the
community. Major cemeteries, smaller settlements and isolated burials attest to
this. We have few instances of the individual burials of children elsewhere and no
evidence as yet of discrete children’s burial areas. Burial rites afforded these
youngsters, in many cemeteries, did not differ a great deal from those bestowed
upon their parents. The actual ceremony of burial may have involved differing
displays of overt or concealed emotional or physical activity than that accorded the
adults, for which no archaeological evidence exists, however, as far as material
evidence goes, little difference is apparent in most of the cemeteries. The
frequency with which children were interred in coffins generally follows the trend
for the population of the cemetery as a whole. Children appear to have been buried
in all types of coffins, with quite a high child to adult ratio for burials in the more
expensive lead coffins. The limited use of stone coffins for children could imply
the employment generally of these containers for older and possibly more specific
members of the community.
Grave goods are found associated with the burial of children in many instances,
often outweighing those found in contemporary adult graves. Valuable items of
jewellery and personal goods, symbolic items and items imported into Britain give
rise to the idea that children were very often held in high esteem by their parents,
their community or both. The family unit also seems, from the evidence of many
associated adult and child burials, to be a major factor in a Romano-British
context. We have the evidence of family mausolea and we have the family
tombstones from York – admittedly both likely evidence of upper class families.
However, the positioning of children’s burials in cemeteries where it is possible to
discern the age grouping of the burials does appear to connote a sense of the
inclusion of the children. As for the affluence of the families concerned, this is
more problematic. The use of expensive lead for coffins and the lavish displays of
138
grave goods in some children’s graves could be construed as a display of wealth
and are likely to indicate a wealthy family. However a lack of obvious wealth does
not preclude the existence of an affluent family. The possible association of these
well endowed burials with families from outside the province, possibly Roman
administrative or military personnel, could account for this manifestation and
display of opulence. With the majority of burials however there appears to be no
significant display of wealth and no evidence of the social standing that these
children or their families held in the community.
Through an analysis of the skeletal remains of the children we are able to discern a
difference between the health and lifestyle of various Romano-British
communities. Their health can be assessed and related to the conditions under
which these children lived. With this information it is therefore possible to gain
some idea of the attitudes of the community, towards such things as health and
hygiene and the adequacy of their diet. We are able to compare those communities
where the children thrived with those where illness took its toll at an early age, and
assess the reasons for it. The Eastern Cemetery of Roman London and the
Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester appearing to be at either end of the spectrum.
The higher incidence of childhood illness in the Poundbury Cemetery could be
related to a lower socio-economic standing of the community or simply to
differing social attitudes towards health-related practices.
What is evident is that, regardless of the conditions under which these
communities existed, there is little significant difference between the treatment of
the children and the adults where burial is concerned. Even in the less affluent
communities, or those with less awareness of health related concerns, children
were still accorded a careful burial. The circumstances may have been different,
the money expended less but the custom of burial was not impeded.
The mortuary evidence that we have is acutely insufficient to account for the
population in general. As discussed (ch. 4.3.2), our evidence represents only
139
around 0.05% of the estimated population of Roman Britain. This being so, the
lack of evidence for children in a mortuary context should not be seen as
necessarily indicative of any difference in burial rite. Infants were not usually
buried in the cemeteries and a distinct lack of infant remains on some settlement
sites could be ascribed to various causes without fear of overstating. The fragility
and small size of their bones would account for the initial loss, their susceptibility
to destruction being paramount. The deposition of these small bodies in areas
prone to redevelopment and agricultural activity only exacerbating the destructive
process with climatic conditions and animal activity adding to the ‘disappearance’
of a large number over the course of two centuries. The excavation of many
Romano-British settlements in the early years of archaeology, when priorities and
techniques were considerably at odds with the ethos of mortuary archaeology
today, would have certainly eradicated the remains of many infants. The numbers
of children in both the mainstream Romano-British cemeteries and the cemeteries
of the smaller settlements are certainly not indicative of a ‘lack’ of children. With
the population of some of these cemeteries including around 30% children the
likelihood of there being any other major form of burial for these young people is
remote. Those cemeteries with smaller percentages of children, as in the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London, could be accounted for by a higher standard of diet
and hygiene or a generally more comfortable lifestyle, leading to a lower incidence
of childhood mortality. The exception to this is the Trentholme Drive Cemetery,
York, which, with only 7% (24) of the burials belonging to children does offer the
suggestion that children were not generally buried in this cemetery. With a
male:female ratio of 4:1 it has been suggested that this cemetery may have been a
military cemetery in which case the paucity of children’s burials would be
understandable.
Children were an integral part of the Romano-British communities, both large and
small. The mortuary evidence for this group indicates that they were neither
marginalised nor were their remains generally disposed of in an arbitrary manner,
regardless of their age. The burial of neonates and perinatal infants in an organised
140
manner, regardless of the setting, attesting to the concern and solicitude of the
parents in many cases. The remains of some infants and children have been found
in areas that would imply burial without the trappings of formalised interment.
However the same can be said for some adults and the burials of the children
should not be singled out as evidence of neglect.
141
CHAPTER 7: THE ELDERLY
_______________________________________________________
‘The senses grow dull, the limbs are numb, sight, hearing, gait, even the teeth
and alimentary organs die before we do, and yet this period is reckoned a
portion of life.’ Pliny (Nat. Hist. VII.50)
‘I find four causes why old age is thought miserable: one, that it calls us away
from the transaction of affairs; the second, that it renders the body more
feeble; the third, that it deprives us of almost all pleasures; and fourth, that it
is not very far from death.’ Cicero (De Senecute V)
7.1 Introduction
If we believe that children are elusive in an archaeological context in Roman
Britain, then what of the elderly? They appear to be even more ‘invisible’ – for
want of a better word. Undoubtedly they are there, they are simply difficult to
identify. Children are easy to define in the mortuary record, the dimensions of their
graves and the size of their bones at least allows us the luxury of being able to
distinguish them from the adult population. The problem that confronts us in
identifying the elderly in the burial record is our inability to distinguish their
graves from those of any other adult.
7.1.1 Defining ‘elderly’ or ‘old’
When discussing this group of people from Roman Britain we are faced with the
same difficulty as we are with the children – that of definition of the term. In his
address to the Population Association of America at their annual meeting in 1980,
Jacob Siegel, addressing the problem of definition of the term ‘elderly’, stated that
‘there are social, psychological and biological aspects of the ageing process, and
these give rise to alternative definitions and measures of ageing (Siegel 1980:
345). His speech was referring to a contemporary population, however, his
statement bears as much relevance to ancient societies as it does to modern.
142
In Latin the term senex means ‘old person’ and senectus ‘old age’ (Parkin 2003:
15). The age at which these terms were applied varied and even Roman law was
not specific about the age of onset of senectus (Parkin 2003: 25).
Both a culturally and a personally defined title, ‘elderly’ or ‘old’ has no definite
osteological parameters. Following the end of the growth period the skeleton
begins a slow process of wearing out, the swiftness of this process aided or
curtailed by environmental and lifestyle considerations. We can often make
reasonably valid estimates of age in adult skeletons – although under-estimation of
adult age has been shown to occur frequently in assessing skeletal remains - but
societal attitudes will interfere in our judgement of cultural age. Contemporary
views have generally held that ‘retirement’ in our society implies the onset of old
age, but changing attitudes and lifestyles and the benefits of modern medical
developments have seen our theories on retirement and the advancement of age
change dramatically over the last few decades. The age at which a person was
considered old only fifty years ago is now seen as a new start to life. Until
relatively recently however the concept of retirement did not exist (Minois 1989:
306), distinctions were not necessarily made between young and old but between
the ‘active’ and the ‘inactive’. In a Roman concept the inability of the male to
undertake military duties would almost certainly have seen him move into the
ranks of the elderly. The exceptions here being those involved in the political
arena. Bearing in mind though that the bulk of the Romano-British population
were rural based and involved in agricultural production, different parameters
would have served to define both their capabilities and the way they were viewed
by the community. An individual would not be wholly marginalised as long as
they were still capable of performing some useful function (Parkin 2003: 240). In
relation to the elderly this would mean that the ‘inactive’ old, those no longer able
to contribute as a functioning member of the community, would survive ‘only
through the auspices of others’ (Minois 1989: 306).
143
7.1.2 The Roman view
In contrast to the numerous articles and books dedicated to the subject of infants
and children in the Roman world, little has been written about the older members
of the community during this period. In the historical study of marginal groups the
elderly appear to be missing. A browse along the shelves of the library is sufficient
to indicate the extent of the current popularity of the subject of old age and ageing,
in contemporary society, with several shelves filled with books on the subject
pertaining to demographic concerns and the resources available to this social
category. Very few books deal with this group during any historical period. Only a
handful of articles have appeared on the elderly in Roman society (Finley 1981)
and books are rare, with the notable exception of Parkin (2003). In this publication
Tim Parkin considers the many issues related to aging and the aged in the classical
Roman world and concludes that the elderly were granted no privileged status and
any privileges granted generally took the form of exemptions from duties rather
than positive benefits.
The difficulty of assessing age in cemetery populations and of distinguishing the
elderly through this medium are undoubtedly factors influencing this lack of
discussion, and with the emergence and survival of written records from the
middle ages and beyond there is a slight increase in publications. The ancient
sources mention several outstanding individuals who attained a significant age,
with Pliny assigning longevity to time, place and fortune (Nat Hist 7.48), however,
little is said of old age in general. Even Galen, an ancient philosopher and
physician, although offering a theory of ageing appearing remarkably modern,
mentions old age only incidentally in a few lines (Minois 1989: 105). With old age
being part of nature, his explanation for this time in life, centres on the theory that,
once attaining their maximum power, the organs deteriorate and gradually cease to
function.
‘This condition is called old age …….This then is one innate
destiny of destruction for every mortal creature …….These
processes, then, it is permitted no mortal body to escape.’
144
As can be seen from the quotes of Pliny and Cicero above the implications of old
age were generally ones of negativity. Physical and mental decline were foremost
in the minds of most, with the standing of the aged decreased due to their lowered
working capacity. But countering this negativity were the more positive attributes
gained by longevity, those of the acceptance of self, wisdom and the ability to
disseminate that wisdom and Cicero goes to great lengths in his dialogue on old
age to dispel the gloomy view of this stage in life. These opposing idiosyncratic
features were often portrayed in ancient literature, with the old men depicted as
being either frail and senile and the butt of jokes, or as wizened but wise sages.
The women were also assigned contradictory characteristics. At times they were
looked upon sympathetically as being subsumed by their powerful husbands, at
other times they were given the negative qualities of physical disfigurement and
shrewishness: the hunchbacked old woman, cowed with arthritis, her irritability
and resentment conspicuous.
We know that old age had its place in Rome, particularly in the early empire. The
Roman Republic put its trust in age (Minois 1989: 84), the pater familias was the
representative of the family and held total control, socially and legally. This
paternal power was extensive, continuing in the early empire, but then gradually
decreasing throughout the imperial period until it lost its public power and became
purely familial (Minois 1989: 83). The role of the elderly however was viewed
purely through the activities of the old men, and apart from a few renowned
examples women were subjected to the power of their husbands just as their
daughters were. The Romans themselves and early historians viewed society from
the male point of view. The adult male was the benchmark against which others –
children, women, the elderly – were set (Parkin 2003: 241).
7.2 Life expectancy in Roman Britain
So, how old was ‘old’ in Roman Britain? Old age in any society is relevant, not
only to perception, but to life expectancy. Therefore, in order to be able to make
some determination on what constituted ‘elderly’ or ‘old’ in this society we need
145
to be able to make some judgement on their likely lifespan. This, in itself, is a
highly uncertain science. A consideration to be taken into account is our inability
to assign accurate and specific life expectancy figures for any ancient population.
The period of Roman influence in Britain spans over four hundred years and it is
likely that life expectancy would have fluctuated throughout this time. There
would also be considerable variations dependent on social status, environment and
geographical location. During a period for which we have more substantial
evidence, the nobility of mid-eighteenth century England experienced a sharp fall
in mortality which was not shared by the working class (Houlbrook 1989: 3). Prior
to this period however, during the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries, the
population as a whole had a higher life expectancy than the nobility (Wrigley et al.
1997: 206). So it would have been during the Romano-British period. Periods
when epidemics raged would have dramatically affected life expectancy. Living
conditions, the urban/rural divide, cultural conventions, dietary considerations and
access to medical attention would all have contributed to variations throughout the
province and throughout different time frames.
Lacking the luxury of census returns, as in other parts of the empire, the evidence
that we have at our disposal for assessing the age structure and likely age at death
of the population of Roman Britain is limited by factors which relegate us to
accepting a less than optimum result. An estimate subject to error is however
considered better than no estimate at all (Brunt 1971: 3). Earlier discussion on the
limitations affecting our estimation of the extent of the population of Roman
Britain (ch. 4.3.1.2) is sufficient to indicate that, if we have such difficulties
assessing the population as a whole, our attempts to gauge the extent of a
particular group within that population are severely restricted. With no literary
evidence available on which to base an estimation of age at death, the limited
evidence that we do have is found in the form of the skeletal remains and in a few
instances of epigraphic testimony .
146
7.2.1 Tombstone evidence
Roman tombstones are interesting and somewhat enlightening as testimony to
social proclivities, however, they are of limited demographic value (Hopkins
1987). Several inherent problems constitute a concern that makes the use of any
demographic data questionable. It is very common on tombstones for the age of
the deceased to be denoted in figures divisible by five, particularly in the upper age
group. In the fifty year and older age group in RIB 1, 77% of the 226 ages quoted
are divisible by five. Age rounding is a prevalent but not too serious problem
demographically speaking, particularly in regard to ‘old age’ as we are not aiming
to determine exact ages but more to ascertain the existence of a particular group in
the community. However, the estimation of life expectancy with the aid of
tombstone inscriptions is more of a concern. Commemorations to the elderly from
Roman Africa should alert us to the dangers of placing too much faith in these
statistics. According to the ages at death recorded on tombstones from the
province, over 26% of those commemorated survived past the age of 70 years
while almost 3% reached 100 years and .25% lived to 120 years or more. The life
expectancy at birth in Castellum Celtianum, in North Africa, was over 60 years
with commemorations indicating that almost 40% of those commemorated lived to
over 70 years old (Parkin 2003: 37-38).
Age range
Number of individuals
(as a % of those with a
recorded age at death)
50-59 years
15 (6.6%)
60-69 years
10 (4.4%)
70-79 years
10 (4.4%)
80-89 years
6 (2.6%)
90-100 years
2 (1%)
Fig. 7.1: Number of tombstones giving age at death over 50 years listed in RIB 1
147
Of the tombstones listed in the Roman Inscriptions of Britain, 227 of them give the
age at death. Of these, 43 (19%) are fifty years or older, the eldest claimed to be a
hundred years old. Table 5 shows the number of people commemorated as
surviving to over 50 years of age, ascribed to ten year age ranges.
Based on the inscriptions in RIB 1 the average age at death for females in Roman
Britain who survived past the age of ten years, was 34.7 years and for men 40.6
years, with an average age at death overall of 37.6 years (Lynch 2003: 25). The
reliability of these figures is severely reduced however when we take into account
the biases in commemoration and survival. Aspects such as locality, class and
commemorative practice provide us with a biased set of commemorations
(Hopkins 1987: 115) while survival is a matter of fortune.
7.2.2 Skeletal evidence
Palaeodemography as a tool in the field of population evaluation, although
extremely useful is, in itself, fraught with uncertainties. The use of skeletal
evidence in attempting to estimate life expectancy or age at death of individuals is
risky. There are several indicators of age on a human skeleton that can be used in
attempts to assess the age at death in adults. These were discussed in ch. 5.1.2 and
include dental attrition, changes on the pubic symphyses, irregularity of the sternal
ends of the ribs and the state of cranial suture fusion. There are however, in the
majority of cases, difficulties which very often preclude an accurate determination,
the state of preservation of the relevant bones being foremost. As an indication of
the difficulty of assigning a specific age to adult remains, or even a close
approximation, we can look at the 14 inhumations at the small Romano-British
settlement of Barnetby-Le-Wold, North Lincolnshire. This group was found to
include nine definite adults, only two of whom it was certain were over 40 years of
age. Of the others, the age ranges used in the report included 27-49 years, 36-50
years, 35-44 years and 30-65 years. These figures mean that the possibility exists
of there being the remains of six people over the age of 40 rather than two. If this
148
type of uncertainty is transferred to a larger cemetery population it could have
enormous implications for any demographic analysis.
Brothwell (1972) using a sample of the remains of 120 males and 53 females from
the Romano-British period deduced that the average age at death for males was
34.8 years and for females 31.9 years. These figures are somewhat lower than
those produced using tombstone evidence however, the sample size was extremely
small. In the same survey it was found that, in the sample of 173 adults, 10.4%
(18) were over the age of fifty when they died.
7.2.3 Cemetery evidence
As with the children, the numbers of elderly adults in the cemeteries varies quite
significantly. The age ranges of adults are generally imprecise and it is not always
possible to assign an age category any more specific than ‘adult.’ This was the
case at the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London where, of the 550 burials, 21.3%
of the total population were classed simply as adult, 28.9% were found to be in the
26-45 year age category and only 9.8% are believed to have survived to over 45. In
contrast to this, at the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester and the Bath Gate
Cemetery, Cirencester, where ages were defined more precisely, the figures for
those over 45 years were 21.5% (229) and 28.5% (102) respectively. When we
look at the figures as a percentage of adult deaths we see that of those surviving to
adulthood (i.e. around 18 years or over), at the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London 14% survived past the age of 45 years while at Poundbury it was 36% and
at the Bath Gate Cemetery 43%. At the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, York, 18.9%
of the population survived past the age of 40 years while of those making it to
adulthood the figure increased to 21%. At the smaller cemeteries of Queenford
Farm, Dorchester-On-Thames and the Racecourse Cemetery, Derby the number of
inhumations involved was 164 and 69 respectively. The figures for those surviving
past the age of 45 years was 21% and 15% when the whole population was
considered and 32% and 20% when only those surviving to adulthood were taken
into account. Of the 24 inhumations at the Romano-British Cemetery on Watling
149
Street, none appear to have lived beyond the age of 45 years with only three (12%)
possibly dying in their forties. These figures are mirrored in the larger Lankhills
Cemetery, Winchester where, of the 409 skeletons, only 32 (8% of the total
population and 11% of those surviving to adulthood) definitely died after the age
of fifty. 5
Cremation cemeteries pose their own set of problems for age determination of
adults, with the size of age ranges varying considerably owing to variation in
quality and quantity of osteological evidence (Cool 2004: 287). As a consequence,
at the Brougham Cemetery only around 3% of the population can be ascribed to
the 45 year plus age group while at Skeleton Green 10% are placed in the over 30
year group with 60% classed only as ‘adult’ with no greater precision possible.
7.2.4 Discussion
On the admittedly limited evidence available, the majority of the population of
Roman Britain appear not to have lived much beyond fifty years of age. Death
before the age of forty would have been an all too real possibility. Hopkins view of
life expectancy in the empire as a whole would appear to be borne out by the
evidence in Britain. He estimates that life expectancy at birth would have been in
the range of twenty to thirty years with those surviving infancy having a greatly
increased chance of survival into their forties, thereafter the likelihood of dying
increases (Hopkins 1987:116). At the Bath Gate Cemetery only one person, a
female, was considered to have survived into her late fifties. At both Trentholme
Drive and Bletsoe we have five individuals over the age of fifty. At Barnetby-LeWold only one person was over sixty however, two others could have been around
fifty and one anywhere up to sixty five while at Bradley Hill, of the ten males, four
survived to at least forty, two to fifty and one to around seventy-five years of age.
Of the ten women in this cemetery, three lived to over forty-five with the
remainder dying in their twenties and thirties. At Poundbury we have two people
5
Figures for Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester taken from Gowland’s (2001) reassessment of the
Lankhills skeletons.
150
who, on the basis of skeletal analysis, lived well into their eighties. These figures
may well be a great deal higher if those designated ‘adult’ could be accurately
aged.
The demographic data extracted from both skeletal assemblages and the epigraphic
evidence offers so many doubts as to its reliability as to render its value extremely
dubious. Variations in burial custom, differential survival, excavation techniques,
analysis and interpretation of the evidence all conspire to provide a biased view of
the ages that these people attained. As Hopkins is at pains to point out, with
inscriptional evidence we are dealing with ‘…the statistics of commemoration, and
not with the statistics of mortality (Hopkins 1987: 124). So why do we use them?
Simply, because that is all we have. We have no ancient historian documenting the
lives of the people of Roman Britain, we have no literary texts, no evidence of
theatrical performances and no documentary evidence of the elderly. We can apply
the written evidence for attitudes towards the elderly extracted from Rome to those
of this distant province but the relevance is doubtful. So we use these statistics of
commemoration, but we use them with extreme caution, constantly aware of the
need to maintain an appreciation of their limitations. Polar views on the use of
demographic data extracted from ancient skeletal and inscriptional evidence, of
either total acceptance or total rejection, is not acceptable. Any evidence available
is valuable, it is its interpretation and the use to which it is put that is often
questionable.
7.3 Seasonality of death
It has long been recognised that mortuary statistics are affected by seasonal
factors. This is particularly so with regards to the elderly in any society. In the case
of the Roman world, somewhat void of statistics regarding precise date of death,
the calculation of seasonal variations proves difficult. Shaw (1996) uses tombstone
inscriptions in an effort to assess the seasonality of death in Rome and other areas
of the empire. Unfortunately in the case of Roman Britain tombstones generally
omit the day and month of death, rendering this form of analysis impossible. Any
151
assessment of such seasonal variations can only be by inference from the general
cycles of death that emerge for this group of the population and by use of statistics
from Italy and the neighbouring province of Gaul.
Fig. 7.2: Seasonal mortality: Rome: Elderly (From Shaw 1996: 120)
The over fifty age group in any population, in general, tend to be particularly
susceptible to respiratory diseases and other ailments exacerbated by the winter
weather (Shaw 1996: 119). As figure 7.2 above indicates, the number of deaths in
Rome increased during the winter months. In northern Italy and Gaul there was the
same seasonal regime of mortality characterised by high death rates in the midwinter months (Shaw 1996: 129) and there is no reason to believe that the figures
in Britain would have been any different.
The only other form of determinant that could be utilised in this type of study
concerns the analysis of floral and faunal remains associated with the graves. In
some instances the remains of small animals such as field mice, voles and frogs
have been found in the bottom of graves and seasonal flowers and grains are often
found as deposits in the grave. A study of these may serve as an indication of not
only the time of year that the body was interred but also the time of day. At the
Poundbury Cemetery the remains of three water voles found close together in one
grave suggest that the inhumation took place in the early morning, a time
152
consistent with the maximum shadow in that area of the grave (Farwell and
Molleson 1993: 111).
7.4 Gender bias in the burial record of the elderly
There is a distinct gender bias in the study of the elderly of the Roman world.
Ancient literature was written by men and for men, in a society geared to relegate
women to a secondary role. Early archaeologists and historians were generally
male and tended to work with a preconceived set of ideas regarding women and
their place in any society. ‘Ancient Man’ is a term still used today in textbooks and
documentaries. Even the excavation of skeletal remains sees more extant male
than female bones. This last factor though is allied not only to the more fragile
nature of women’s bones but also the possible differences in burial practice (i.e.
the depth of the grave).
In the mortuary record of Roman Britain there is a gender bias in favour of males
generally. This is evident both in the material remains of these people and in the
commemorations to them. When we look at the limited evidence we have for the
elderly we find that same gender bias (with the exception of the Poundbury
Cemetery), and do not find it surprising. This is in contrast to modern figures
where elderly women outnumber elderly men and have a longer life expectancy.
This is not only a twentieth century phenomenon either, in the reliable and
extensive figures Landers gathered from records of the Quaker community in
London, between 1650-1850 the women there also had a marginally higher life
expectation than men (Landers 1993: 158). In all populations more male than
female children are born (Wrigley et al. 1997: 298), but women, it seems, have a
basic biological superiority when it comes to longevity. This is as a result of the
natural protection afforded by hormonal changes and the blood clotting factor
provided during the female reproductive period (Siegel 1980: 350). There are
several factors pertaining to Roman Britain and its people which could have
negatively influenced the life expectancy of the women. These could have
included a shorter reproductive period, the acute risks associated with childbirth
153
outweighing the biological benefits and the frequently discussed possibility of
female infanticide. However, we must bear in mind that differential burial and
commemorative rites and survival of material evidence could also have played a
part in the apparent gender bias of this population.
Of the tombstone commemorations to those over 50 years old from Roman Britain,
ten are dedicated to women and thirty to men. Of the women, only two, it is
claimed, survived past their 60’s, one living to 75 years and the other to 90 years.
In contrast, eight of the men survived into their 70’s, four into their 80’s and one to
a hundred. It is difficult to know though if this discrepancy is due to the practice of
commemorating men more than women, the accident of survival of the stones or
the longevity of men over women. The ancients did take it as fact however that
achieving a great age was possible and did happen. Pliny (Nat. Hist. VII:49)
quotes it as ‘admitted fact’ that, in the census of Vespasian and Titus, fifty four
people in the eighth region of Italy were over a hundred years old, three of them
140 years old. In the township of Veleia, he tells us, six people were 110 years,
four were 120 and one was 150!
The overall trend in the major Romano-British cemeteries, with the exception of
the Poundbury Cemetery, was for a preponderance of males in the over 45
category (fig. 7.3). The ratio of males:females varied from 1.8:1 at the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London to 3.5:1 at the Racecourse Cemetery, Derby. At
Poundbury the ratio of male:female was 1:1.35, slightly lower than the overall
adult male:female ratio for that cemetery, which was 1:1.06.
154
Cemetery
Males
Females
Unsexed
M:F Ratio
ECRL
32 (60%)
18 (33%)
4
1.8:1
Queenford
21 (62%)
10 (30%)
3
2:1
Bath Gate
76 (74%)
26 (26%)
Racecourse
7 (63%)
2 (18%)
2
3.5:1
Lankhills
19 (60%)
11 (35%)
2
1.72:1
95 (41.5%)
129 (56%)
5
1:1.35
Farm
2.9:1
(aged over 50)
Poundbury
Fig. 7.3: Figures for male and females over 45 years in Romano-British cemeteries (% figures are
% of the total of those surviving past 45).
Where it has been possible to assign gender to members of the adult population of
the cemeteries, the ratio of males to females is shown in figure 7.4, along with the
ratios for those over the age of 45.
Cemetery
M:F
Ratio
of
adult M:F Ratio of those over
population.
45 years.
ECRL
1.7:1
1.8:1
Queenford Farm
1:1.18
2:1
Bath Gate
2.4:1
2.9:1
Racecourse
1.5:1
3.5:1
Lankhills
1:1.13
1.72:1 (over 50 years)
Poundbury
1:1.06
1:1.35
Fig. 7.4: Ratios of males:females in the adult cemetery populations and in those over 45 years.
At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London the ratio for those dying over the age
of 45 is comparable to the overall ratio of adult males to females in the cemetery
and the incidence of both adult males and females surviving to this age was equal
at around 17%. The ratios at the other cemeteries vary, sometimes quite
considerably, and at the Queenford Farm site the ratios are actually reversed with
155
twice as many males surviving to 45 than females whereas the number of adult
females in the population as a whole is slightly higher than the males. At this
cemetery, in fact, 50% of males survived to this age compared to only 20% of
females. Although the sample size is smaller the variation in the figures is
mirrored at the Racecourse Cemetery with 25% of males and only 11% of females
living past 45.
7.5 Health
The current interest and focus on the health of the elderly in our community is
allied to our welfare system. With an increasing percentage of the population now
surviving to a greater age the requirements of this group of people, in the way of
provision of health care, accommodation and financial assistance, are paramount
and the need to ‘take care’ of the old and infirm is on both the social and political
agenda. In ancient societies there was no welfare system as such. The wellbeing of
those of advancing age would have been dependant on economic and demographic
conditions. Their vulnerability would have been affected by fluctuating economic
circumstances and by social and family arrangements. In pre-industrial agrarian
settings the elderly would have been affected by changing living standards
strongly influenced by agricultural output, by the characteristics of the household
in which they lived and their position within it and by the socio-economic status of
that household (Bengtsson et al. 2004: 401-403). These factors would also have
had an influence on the health of the individual in later life and, being a
consideration in their ability to be a productive part of the community, their health
is likely to have dictated, to a degree, their status in the community.
Unfortunately, owing to the difficulties of accurate ageing of skeletal remains,
very rarely do we have information on, or discussion of, the state of the health
specifically of the older members of the community in Roman Britain. Age related
health problems in ancient populations, as in modern, tend to arise as a
consequence of the gradual wearing out of the bones. Two of the most common
joint diseases seen in bones from archaeological sites are osteoarthritis and
156
vertebral osteophytosis which generally occur as a result of degeneration of the
cartilage at a joint and degeneration of the invertebral disc (Mays 1998: 127). As
Calvin Wells succinctly stated ‘osteoarthritis has the distinction of being one of the
commonest, most widespread and most antique of all diseases’ (Wells 1964: 59).
As these degenerative changes register the cumulative effect of strain (Wells 1964:
60), particularly in the skeletons of those encumbered with physical activity and
stress, it is not possible to assign them only to the elderly, although the conditions
may have become more debilitating with advancing age. The existence of
degenerative disease in the skeleton cannot necessarily be taken as an indicator of
advanced age. At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London 75.9% of those over the
age of forty five, as to be expected, displayed evidence of degenerative disease but
30.4% of 19-25 year olds and 57.2% of 26-45 year olds were similarly affected
(Barber and Bowsher 2000: 282). At Poundbury, degenerative joint disease was
common throughout the adult population but more severe in the older age groups
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 194) – more specific information is not available.
Diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis (DISH), a proliferative arthropathy,
characterised by large amounts of new bone formation particularly in the spine,
results in gradual spinal fixation and limitation of other joint movements. This
disease is usually associated with the elderly, today affecting mainly obese men
over the age of fifty with a rich diet and sedentary lifestyle (Mackinder 2000: 27).
This condition was noted in eleven mature or old males at Poundbury (Farwell and
Molleson 1993: 194), a man over forty five at the Queenford Farm Cemetery
(Chambers 1987: 62) and a man of at least the same age in the Clarence Street
Cemetery, Leicester (Gardner 2005: 67). There is believed to be an association, in
many cases, between DISH and maturity-onset diabetes, which in turn is known to
be associated with obesity (Manchester 1987: 170). Statistical significance tests
carried out on the Poundbury population suggest that a disproportionate number of
males had developed the condition (Cool and Baxter 2005: 402). There is the
possibility therefore that we may be seeing obese Romano-Britons here, with
implications regarding lifestyle and diet.
157
The deterioration of mental health, senility and dementia, is impossible to
distinguish archaeologically. Pliny mentions the ‘death of the intellect’ as a disease
(Nat. Hist. VII.50) and sees the signs of approaching death in the case of insanity
as laughter (Nat. Hist. VII.51). To what extent this was prevalent in the population
though is an unknown quantity, and how the community reacted to elderly people
suffering such mental disabilities an unanswerable question.
7.6 Elderly individuals
The elderly as a group are difficult to assess, their position in society and their
contribution to the community difficult to gauge from their burials. Even health
issues affecting this group are difficult to isolate owing to insufficient data. Certain
individuals however do stand out in mortuary archaeology. In any field it is
generally the unusual which attracts attention and is subjected to further study.
Human remains are no exception and excavation of burials from Roman Britain
has provided us with an intriguing insight into just a few elderly individuals. The
diseases suffered by these people would have produced symptoms. These
symptoms would have caused pain, restricted movement or function and possibly
disfigurement and my be evidenced in their remains.
The ‘old woman,’ buried in a cist, at Kimmeridge, Dorset (Calkin 1947) had been
decapitated and her head placed beside her shins with her lower jaw upright and
facing the upper jaw (fig. 7.5). The body was covered with a layer of mould, snails
and limpets. The only item placed in the grave was a shale spindle whorl.
Fig. 7.5: Artistic depiction of the skeleton of the decapitated woman
from Kimmeridge (From Calkin 1947: 34)
158
Examination of this woman’s skeleton showed that she was an old woman
suffering from arthritis in her back and hips and she had lost her lower teeth some
years previously. Owing to the state of her muscular development it was concluded
that she was probably a runner and horse rider in her youth and that she was also a
slinger. An isolated example admittedly with the excavator here considering that
this woman had probably been skilled in the use of the sling, in the chase and in
battle (Calkin 1947: 40), but it does make us question the role of some women in
Romano-British society.
Witches have proved popular with those attempting to explain unusual burial
procedures associated with elderly females. Decapitation (see ch 9.3) has often
been ascribed to the necessity to prevent the dead from walking or talking. When
this rite was practised on elderly females, many of whom suffered from arthritis
and are likely to have presented a picture of a wizened and bent old woman, the
theory of witches may have come into play. An elderly lame woman from Guilden
Morden, suffering from severe rheumatoid arthritis and decapitated after death,
could have been treated this way as a result of her relatives not wanting to be
haunted by her bad tempered spirit. The existence of another elderly decapitated
female in the same area though led the excavator to posit the theory of witches
(Lethbridge 1934: 117).
Consideration of the health problems, particularly those of a physical nature, of
some elderly Romano-Britons, allows us to speculate on the impact they may have
had on the lifestyle of these people. At Cirencester we have a lady aged between
48 and 54 years old when she died who is likely to have had a relatively difficult
life. Hers is one of only two skeletons in this cemetery to show evidence of
osteochondritis of the knee which then developed into osteoarthrosis of the same
joint. In addition she suffered from this disease in several other areas including the
left tibia and femur and the left scapula. The second metatarsal and the base of its
proximal phalange was also affected which would have resulted in a ‘hammer toe’.
To add to this woman’s woes her left humerus, ulna and clavicle were smaller than
159
those on the right, a unilateral atrophy of a limb most likely to have been caused
by poliomyelitis. Studies into the estimation of parity of several females from this
cemetery also indicates that this lady may have had up to six children. Many
Romano-British females may have had a reproductive life of little more than
fifteen years (McWhirr et al. 1982: 192). Allowing for even twenty years in this
case, it would still have meant that she would have had a pregnancy every three
years or so and, regardless of her infirmities, would certainly have been kept busy!
Also in this cemetery are two more elderly females, for whom we have evidence of
the number of children they bore, and who are also likely to have suffered painful
joints. One lady, who was between 55 and 65 years old when she died, suffered
from very severe osteoarthritis of both hip joints severely restricting movement
and probably preventing her from walking. She also suffered from Otto’s Disease,
which, if she had been capable of walking, would likely have resulted in the
femoral heads perforating the acetabular floor and going through into the pelvic
cavity (McWhirr et al. 1982: 189-191). She also had between six and eight
children in her lifetime – maybe they would have been looking after her in her last
few years. The other lady in question, around 45 years old when she died, had
between eight and ten children. A fall or deliberate act of aggression at some time
had resulted in the dislocation of her right shoulder. As a consequence of this
unreduced dislocation severe arthrosis and remodelling of the bone had occurred.
Movement in the affected joint would have been severely limited resulting also in
extensive arthrosis of the compensating, undislocated, shoulder.
A 65 year old woman from Dorchester, buried in the Poundbury Cemetery, had
porotic bones and the almost complete collapse of two thoracic vertebrae which
would have resulted in curvature of the spine creating a ‘dowager’s hump’. The
position of the skeleton in relation to the spread of nails in the grave (fig. 7.6)
indicates that carelessness may have played a part in her burial. The body appears
to have slipped toward the head end of the coffin before its final deposition,
possibly due to being dropped (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 38)!
160
Fig. 7.6: Burial 1354, an elderly woman, from Poundbury Cemetery (From Farwell and Molleson
1993: 38)
A female around 45 years of age when she died who was buried in the
predominantly male cemetery at Trentholme Drive, York appears as a unique
example of the likely diversity of the Romano-British population. The skeleton of
this lady showed evidence of a fracture in the right femur which had not healed
well. The broken ends of the bone had overlapped which led to a shortening of the
leg, this would undoubtedly have resulted in a pronounced limp. The cause of this
fracture can be speculated on when we take into account the theory that a variation
in shape of one of her lumbar vertebrae, which indicated great freedom of
movement in that part of the spine, could have been associated with her profession
as an acrobat (Wenham 1968: 152)!
Eleven out of the twenty adult burials at the small settlement at Bradley Hill,
Somerset were aged over 35 years with eight of them over 45. Only two of those
over 45 years old were women. The men appear to have lived, in general, longer
than the women on this settlement, with two aged around 50 years and one
161
between 70-80 years old when he died. This ‘patriarch’ of the community, of
relatively short stature at around five foot four inches, had signs of cervical and
lumbar spondylosis, and wedging of some lumbar vertebrae would have given him
a ‘hunchback’ appearance. Another of the older men, around 50 years old when he
died, had severe cervical, lumbar and thoracic spondylosis. The severity of this
degenerative osteoarthritis is likely to have caused some discomfort. This man was
even shorter than his elder kinsman at around only five foot three inches. The
bones of this skeleton were very robust and showed signs that he had probably
been a horseman, anterior wedging of the second cervical vertebrae is seen as
possibly being caused by a fall from a horse (Leech 1981: 227). The elderly
women in this community were also short, the two over 45 years old when they
died were both marginally under five foot. One of them suffered from gross
osteoporosis in many of her bones with those of the limbs most severely affected
(Leech 1981: 227), this lady also gave birth to four or five children in her lifetime.
Much of the upper part of the skeleton of the second ‘old’ lady, was either very
fragmentary or missing, however, it would seem that she had suffered from severe
dental disease around the age of thirty affecting the right mandibular molars,
forcing her to chew on her left side only. She had given birth to three or four
children in her lifetime.
In the report by Start (2002) on the settlement at Barnetby-Le-Wold, North
Lincolnshire, of the nine adults buried there six of them are believed to be in their
30’s or older. Of these six burials, two may be connected. Burial BBAD 090 was
the burial of a female, probably in her 30’s or 40’s, but missing the head. Burial
BBAD 116 was the discrete burial of a cranium and first cervical vertebrae. The
condition of the cranium and dentition was such that it allowed age estimation at
between 36-50 years. These two sets of remains are a good match
demographically, both being prime to older women, however, the necessary
vertebrae required to ‘match up’ the two are missing, resulting in uncertainty. If
these two burials do belong to the same woman then we must question the rite that
saw the necessity to bury her head in a separate grave given that, in general,
162
decapitated heads are normally found in the same grave as the body. This site also
contained the remains of a woman of over 60 years old, four foot ten inches in
height, who, as well as suffering the normal range of osteoarthritic joints was also
affected in the sacro-iliac joint, a condition which could have been caused by
childbearing. The eldest male in this community, at between 40-50 years of age
had severe periodontal disease and osteoarthritis of the arm and right hip. This is
likely to have caused restricted movement and possibly a limp in this physically
strong and active man.
7.7 Commemoration of the elderly
Just as the skeletal remains of these people can paint a picture of individuals so,
tombstones are equally effective. We have over forty dedications to those over the
age of 50 years in RIB 1 and some of these give us a fascinating view of their lives
and their families.
From Bath we have the dedication to the 75 year old priest of Sulis, Calpurnius
Receptus by his widow Calpurnia Trifosa, ‘…his freedwoman (and) wife…’ (RIB
1: 155). She was originally his slave girl and interestingly the term ‘freedwoman’
comes before ‘wife’ on the dedication (fig. 7.7 right). Wouldn’t we like to know
how old she was and when he married her? We have two tombstones from
Caerleon, commemorating a husband and wife (RIB 1: 363, 373). Julius Valens, a
veteran of II Augusta which was based at Caerleon from the Flavian period
onwards, died first, living to the questionable age of 100 years (according to his
wife and son) while his wife, Julia Secundina survived to 75 years. We will never
have a satisfactory explanation for the age difference of at least 25 years nor know
the fate of their son. Although commemorated separately these two tombstones
were discovered close together, along with six other inscriptions.
163
Fig. 7.7: Above left. Tombstone of Aulus Alfidius Olussa (RIB 1: 9), born in Athens who lived to
70 years of age. Above right. Tombstone of Gaius Calpurnius Receptus (RIB 1: 155), Priest of the
goddess Sulis, from Bath, who lived to 75 years of age.
164
The eight inscriptions appear to have been part of a communal tomb with the
remains of urns, burnt bones and ashes (Collingwood and Wright 1965: 122). Two
of the stones commemorated veterans of the II Augusta, one the wife of a veteran,
while the remaining five were dedicated to women, one of them a 16 year old. This
could have been a communal tomb associated with the legion with the women
being the wives of other soldiers or veterans and the teenage girl a daughter.
We have a very rare insight into the consideration given to an elderly woman from
Ribchester, by her son-in-law. Julius Maximus, singularis consularis of the
cavalry regiment of Sarmatians, erected a very emotional tombstone dedicated, not
only to his ‘incomparable’ wife and to his son ‘most devoted to his father’, but
also to his ‘most steadfast’ mother-in-law. The tone of the dedication implies a
man who genuinely appreciated his family and this commemoration can probably
be seen as a genuine gesture of affection towards an elderly and dependable lady.
7.8 Discussion – evidence for the elderly
So, how articulate are the burials of the elderly people in Romano-British society
in passing on to us the details of their lives? Through the mortuary evidence are we
able to glean any information or make any valid assessments of how this marginal
group was treated, or their place in Romano-British society? As we saw earlier (ch.
7.1.2), through the ancient literature and theatre we are able to discern, to a degree,
the attitude towards old age among the elite in Rome. Would this attitude have
transferred itself to the most northern province of the empire? Unfortunately there
is no simple answer. This literary evidence from Rome is relevant but would have
applied to only a very small component of the population of Roman Britain. As
close as we could get would be to say that there would have been those
individuals, including high ranking government and military officials, and their
families, raised in Rome, whose traditional beliefs and attitudes would not have
been hampered simply through their distance from Rome. The extent to which
Roman tradition was disseminated and accepted throughout Britain though, in
regards to the societal attitudes towards the elderly, is problematical. With no local
165
written evidence and extremely limited artistic depictions this is a question we are
simply not equipped to answer. The few portrayals that we do have of the elderly
are to be found on figured tombstones and only a few actually portray the
deceased. Several of these are too severely damaged to discern any features of the
person commemorated These include commemorations to military personnel
depicting power over the fallen enemy, the tombstone, found in Chester, of Marcus
Aurelius Nepos, a centurion dying at the age of fifty (RIB 1: 121, 251), and Julia
Velva from York (RIB 1: 688) who survived to the same age. These tombstones
however lend very little to our attempts to ascertain society’s attitude towards the
elderly except to say that in these individual cases these people did warrant a fairly
elaborate commemoration.
The establishment of veteran colonies in Britain would suggest that in these areas
we are likely to find a greater number of those in the ‘elderly’ age bracket.
Coloniae at Colchester, Lincoln and Gloucester would have housed men who, after
serving twenty five years in the army are likely to have been at least in their forties
at retirement. Discharge certificates indicate that most ex-soldiers preferred to
remain in the provinces in which they served (Jones 2002: 53). The evidence for
their burials though is circumstantial, Lincoln and Gloucester, in particular,
providing no large-scale cemetery evidence. The position of both cremation and
inhumation cemeteries have been known in Lincoln since the eighteenth century,
however, major excavations have not yet been possible. Of the 21 tombstones
discovered at Lincoln (fig. 7.8), 11 are known to have definite military connections
and five give the age at death as thirty-five years or older. Two were veterans, one
living to seventy years of age.
166
Fig. 7.8: Tombstone from Lincoln of the veteran C. Iulius Galenus, a veteran of the Sixth Legion
(From Jones 2002: plate 2).
The difficulty of establishing the extent of the elderly in a community and of
passing judgement on the lifestyle, the health and the general longevity of them as
a group in Romano-British society is clearly evident. The limitations imposed by
the problems of identification and by the lack of pathology is a concern difficult to
overcome. However, let us be optimistic and consider what we do know as
opposed to what we don’t know. We know that some lived to a great age – even
allowing for exaggeration on tombstone commemorations and by the redoubtable
Pliny. We know that most suffered from generic age related health problems such
as osteoarthritis, some quite severely. There are those who would have been
seriously incapacitated by their physical disabilities, likely reliant upon family to
care and provide for them, and there are those who appear to have been
remarkably healthy and, at an advanced age would still have been active members
167
of the community. For all this though there are obviously illnesses and ailments,
from which these people suffered, that we will never discover from their remains.
We are able, with many women, to determine approximately how many times they
have given birth. Some of these women, in their later years would have become
grandmothers, dispensing the wisdom of their age. Given that the men appeared to
live longer than the women we should consider that for every grandmother it is
likely that there would have been a grandfather. Were the two women over 45 in
the cemetery at the Bradley Hill settlement married to any of the six men who also
survived past that age? Six of the burials were possibly a small early cemetery
prior to the establishment of the main cemetery. One of these burials was of a male
around 50 years of age and two were of females, one 35-40 years and the other at
least 45 years of age. Was one of them his wife? There was also a male of 17-23
years of age and a three-year old girl. A son and granddaughter perhaps? In cases
like this, short of DNA testing, an expensive and very often impracticable solution,
we will only ever be able to speculate.
Assessment of the life expectancy of the Romano-British population, after
removing the high infant mortality rate from the equation, points to the chances of
adults surviving to 45 years as between 20-40% in most Romano-British
communities for which we have evidence. As with all statistics though there are
exceptions, communities where very few appear to have survived to what could be
called old age. Economic, cultural and social factors could have contributed to a
lower life expectancy in some communities, however, the limitations of our
evidence should not be overlooked. The reality may have been quite different from
our assessment.
168
CHAPTER 8: IMMIGRANTS
_________________________________________________________
As far as men could remember they had hugged the coast, then suddenly they
abandoned the coastline and ventured out across the seas.
Bertolt Brecht (Life of Galileo).
8.1 Introduction
Native Britons, the Roman army, administrative personnel and merchants and
traders from the widest extent of the empire would have contributed to the
composition of Roman Britain in varying degrees over almost four centuries of
Roman rule. But to what extent are we able to determine this diversity from the
archaeological evidence of the burials of these people? Do their remains give us
any indication of their nationality and are the relatively few memorials to them of
any help whatsoever in determining the proportion of local to overseas born
inhabitants?
We can be fairly precise regarding the initial influx of those of foreign birth into
Britain during the invasion period. The invasion introduced maybe 40,000 men.
While most of the legionaries were recruited from Italy during this period there
were those who were recruited from other areas, such places as Noricum,
Narbonensis, Spain and the Rhineland. During the Flavio-Trajanic and later
periods there were considerably less legionary recruits from Italy with many at this
time being recruited from the Claudian colonies in the Danube-Balkan area
(Holder 1982: 47). From the third century it is more likely that the majority of the
legionaries were recruited locally, following the Empire-wide trend for enrolment
of men into legions in their own province (Holder 1982: 49). Inscriptional
evidence gathered by Forni (1953) is indicative of this trend showing a dramatic
decrease in the numbers of Italian legionaries by the early third century. In the first
half of the first century sixty-five per cent of the legionaries of known origin were
Italians but by a century later this figure had been reduced to twenty-one per cent
(Keppie 1998: 180). According to Forni’s figures, by the third century it had fallen
even further to around two per cent. It would seem that by this time the
169
contribution of Italians to the manpower of the legions was negligible (Keppie
1998: 180). However, we must remember that the enormous difference in the
figures could be accounted for, partly, by the changing epigraphic habit in various
parts of the empire and the accident of survival and discovery. The bulk of western
auxiliaries initially came from Gaul, Germany, Spain, and the Balkans, however as
with the legions, recruitment gradually became more localised (Holder 1982: 51).
By the late first century recruitment of auxiliaries was less from the area of the
regiment’s origin and the regiments were beginning to lose their ethnic
composition (Keppie 1998: 185). Thus a Cohors Delmatarum, originally raised in
Dalmatia but stationed in Germany prior to its arrival in Britain, would have had a
mixed ethnic composition. By the late second or early third century, having been
stationed in Britain for several generations, it may have contained no Dalmatians
except by chance, yet retained the name. The exceptions to this trend would have
been the regiments of specialised archers, such as the Cohors I Hamiorum
Sagittariorum, raised in Syria which are likely to have maintained recruitment
from their area of origin. In Britain, as men retired from the army or died they
would have increasingly been replaced with native Britons.
Along with the legions would have come camp followers, traders, suppliers etc
including at least some women, increasing the numbers of immigrants quite
considerably. A German, Lurio, was commemorated by his sister Ursa at Chesters
(RIB 1: 1483). As he was born outside the province, she must have followed him
and other family members may have accompanied her. Valerius Theodorianus
from Rome, who died in York, was commemorated by his mother (RIB 1: 677),
who also presumably followed her son or possibly her husband.
Officers, in particular, are likely to have brought their wives and families to Britain
for their term of office. A debate related by Tacitus about this time, shows that it
was becoming commonplace for officers to have their wives and families
accompany them when they travelled (Tac. Ann. 3.33). The Vindolanda tablets are
our prime source of information on this topic in Britain and show the existence in
170
the province of officer’s households. Flavius Cerialis, commander of the Ninth
Cohort of Batavians at Vindolanda, was accompanied by his wife, Sulpicia
Lepidina, and quite possibly his children (Birley 2002: 141). A fellow officer and
friend of Cerialis, Aelius Brocchus, stationed at the fort of Briga, not far from
Vindolanada, was also accompanied by his wife, Claudia Severa and their young
son. Their filiolus is mentioned in a birthday invitation from Severa to her friend
Lepidina (fig 8.1).
Fig. 8.1: Letter from Severa to Lepidina (Tab. Vindol. 11: 291)
Several other letters indicate that it was probably not unusual for the wives of
officers to accompany them. Mention is made of Varia, possibly the wife of
Priscinus, commander of the First Tungrian Cohort and Pacata, probably a
commanding officer’s wife (Birley 2002: 153). Along with wives and children
would have come household slaves, nursemaids to care for the children, tutors to
educate the sons and ladies maids to serve the women. Undoubtedly if
replacements were required some would have been available locally, however, the
initial journey to Britain of a family would have called for the movement of a
substantial portion of an officer’s household.
Some soldiers are known to have left Britain on discharge. Discharge diplomas
issued to men who served in auxiliary units in Britain have been found belonging
to men who appear to have returned home to Spain, Pannonia and Thrace, to name
a few (Mann 2002: 183). There are many however who would have elected to
remain in the province. The state made no provision to return veterans to their
place of origin and many had established family, social and business interests in
171
the local area. In some cases coloniae were established by the emperor for veterans
and we know of veteran colonies established in Britain, initially at Colchester (AD
49) followed in the next generation or two by those at Lincoln (AD 71) and
Gloucester (late 1st c.). However, diploma evidence, at least for auxiliary soldiers,
indicates that there are those that chose to settle away from the military zones, in
the more urnabised areas of the lowland south (Mann 2002: 186). We also have
epigraphic evidence for the movement of some retired soldiers, almost all of which
have been found in the military areas of the north. Gaius Julius Calenus from
Lugdunum, buried at Lincoln (fig. 7.4), was a veteran of the VI Legion Victrix Pia
Fidelis (RIB 1: 252). This legion, after seeing service in Spain and Lower
Germany, was transferred to Britain in AD 122 to reinforce numbers and to help in
the building of Hadrian’s Wall. Lucius Licinius Valens, from Arelate near the
mouth of the River Rhone and Publius Aelius Bassus from Mursa were both
veterans of the XX Legion Valeria Victrix. Valens was buried at Chester (RIB 1:
500) while a part of a tombstone dedication to Valens has been found further north
at Watercrook near Kendal (RIB 1: 754). A compatriot of Valens attended to his
funeral. This Aelius Surinus, also from Mursa, served in the VI Legion Victrix in
Britain, however evidence points to him returning home after retirement and
becoming a town-councillor (Birley 1979: 80). L. Valerius Proclus, who served as
a centurion in the XX and IX legions in Britain after serving periods in the V
Macedonica, I Italica and XI Claudia returned home to Moesia where he was
buried at the age of seventy five (Birley 1979: 74).
Migration would have played a part in the composition of the population, but the
scale of movement into the province is largely unknown. Roman migration studies
are notoriously few, even for population movement in and out of Italy (Scheidel
2001: 48), and to attempt to assess such movements into Britain, borders on the
impossible. The allocation of allotments of land to Roman citizens in conquered
territory and the establishment of organised communities is a known feature of
Roman expansion (Brunt 1971: 159). In Britain we know of such allocations to
veterans at Colchester, Lincoln and Gloucester, but these grants were to veterans
172
already resident in Britain. We have no evidence of the establishment of towns and
the allocation of land to migrants from Rome or other parts of the empire.
Some residents of Britain at this time would have been there for a brief period
only. Classicianus, an early procurator of Britain (whose tombstone is discussed
below) was a temporary resident, an administrator who, but for his death, would
likely have left the province and been replaced by another temporary resident. The
highest ranking of this transient part of the population were obviously the
governors of the province, their tenure averaging around three and a half years in
the province during the first forty years of Roman rule. Birley (2005: 9) estimates
that the number of governors in Britain to c.AD 214 would have been around fiftyfour and their origins are seen to follow the trend of recruitment of the legions.
Those appointed in the early years of the province emanated mainly from Italy,
while later governors came from the colonies. Most of those governing the
province from Claudius to Trajan were from Italy. A few however were provincial
with Agricola, from Gallia Narbonensis, being the first such holder of the post
(Birley 2005: 9). From the time of Hadrian however many of the governors of
Britain appear to have originated in the colonies, with evidence pointing to Africa,
Spain and Gaul as the birthplace of some of them.
Figures for procurators would have been equally high but only eleven are certain
with three of those being Italian (Birley 2005: 299). Other high ranking officials
spent time in Britain but evidence is extremely limited. Of the iuridici, law
officers, we know of only seven, while the laticlavii, young military tribunes of
senatorial rank, learning the business of administration, who probably served less
than three years and were then transferred out of the province, are evidenced in
thirty-two instances at the most, with uncertainty over at least seven of them
(Birley 2005: 276). Around sixty equestrian officers, in command of auxiliary
cohorts and cavalry units, would have been stationed in Britain (Bowman 1994:
54). Many of these would have come from provincial towns throughout the empire
(Bowman 1994: 54) and would have held each of their posts for three or four
173
years. The Vindolanda Tablets provide the names of about a third of these. The
origin of these commanders is difficult to determine, however, it is likely that they
include areas such as Italy, Dalmatia and Gallia Belgica (Bowman 1994: 55).
The effect that these transient visitors may have had on the general population of
Britain is difficult to determine. The interaction of those of higher rank with the
mass of the population is likely to have been slight, restricted in the main to the
major towns and military posts. The influence of the men in the ranks however is
likely to have had more of an impact with many of their traditions and rites being
adopted and adapted by the locals.
8.2 Tombstone evidence for immigrants
Tombstones from Roman Britain, although relatively few in number, cover diverse
groups within the population. There are commemorations to administrative
personnel, to members of the military and their families and to civilians, including
freedmen and slaves. The dedications are addressed to all ages from the very
young to the very elderly, male and female, and range from simple words to
elaborately sculptured reliefs. The visibility of tombstones in Roman Britain would
have been unmistakable. They would have stood out in cemeteries either lacking in
funerary monuments or possessing those of a more insubstantial nature. These
commemorations would have spoken volumes to the onlooker, regardless of
whether the Latin dedication was understood or not. Roman civilisation was a
monumental one designed to create an impact, funerary architecture, be it
sarcophagi, mausolea or tombstones, played a significant part in the establishment
of this concept. In many instances it is obvious that the intention was to impress,
the sheer size of some tombstones being an indication of their predominant role in
the cemetery landscape.
One of the most distinctive tombstones, remnants of which have survived, and one
which would have been highly visible, is that dedicated to the previously
mentioned procurator of the province, Gaius Julius Alpinus Classicianus (RIB 1:
174
12). The reconstruction of this dedication in the British Museum (fig. 8.2)
measures in the region of 2.25 metres by 1.5 metres. This reconstruction however
has been brought into question by Grasby and Tomlin (2002) who believe that it is
more likely that the remnants were part of a much larger and more impressive altar
shaped structure that would have dominated the landscape (fig. 8.3).
Fig. 8.2: Reconstruction of the tombstone of Gaius Julius Alpinus Classicianus, procurator of
Britain AD 60-61, British Museum, London (Photo. P. Lynch).
Regardless of their setting the two large fragments are an unmistakable indicator
of the diverse origins of the administrative personnel of the province and their
families. With these two fragments, found eighty years apart at different levels of
Bastion 2 of the Roman town walls of London, we have the very rare advantage of
being able to relate this material evidence of a person to a known historical event.
This procurator is known from Tacitus to have been in office in AD 60/61 during
the Boudiccan revolt (Tac. Ann. XIV:38) with his tombstone providing the
valuable details leading to our understanding of his provincial origins. His name
175
suggests that he was a member of the Gallic aristocracy, while his wife, who
commemorated, him was the daughter of a Treveran noble, Julius Indus, who had
helped to suppress an anti-Roman rebellion in Gaul some forty years earlier
(Birley 2005: 304).
Fig 8.3: Diagramatic reconstruction of the altar-shaped monument of Classicianus (From Grasby
and Tomlin 2002: 73)
Tombstones were a distinctly Roman concept introduced into Britain by the
Roman army. There was no tradition of inscribed tombstones in Britain prior to the
arrival of the Romans and therefore the whole Roman formula was imported into
this province, in contrast to some other areas in the empire which combined their
own established form of inscription with the Roman (Meyer 1990: 86).
Unfortunately, most discussions on Roman tombstones have tended to focus on the
empire as a whole. The case though with Roman Britain is at odds with the rest of
the empire, Britain was one of the later acquisitions by Rome and one of the most
176
geographically distant. These facts alone are likely to have had an effect on the
impact of different cultural rites. We also have considerably fewer examples from
Britain than from other provinces, this, in itself, limiting the usefulness of
tombstones in terms of the information they provide. With a larger sample there
would be more hope of drawing reliable conclusions. Britain was under Roman
rule for almost four centuries yet we have only a few hundred surviving
tombstones, averaging out at little more than one per year. The number of
tombstones in Britain as a whole is almost matched at one legionary base, that of
Mainz in Germany, which alone has three hundred surviving funerary memorials
(Hope 1997: 247). The latter had been founded in 13 BC by legionaries who were
more narrowly Italian and probably more intently focused on the ‘epigraphic habit’
than the more diverse legionaries who arrived in Britain 55 years later. Morris
(1992: 161) believes that, as inscriptions were basically created for funerary
rituals, there may be a correlation between the way soldiers related to the
community and the epigraphic habit. The Romans were generally prepared to
accept, and integrate with, the local custom in the way of ritual. As Britain, before
the arrival of the Romans, had no tradition of inscribed funerary memorial it may
be that, in many cases, the Roman military, integrating into a community and
adopting the native burial custom, were buried with either no memorial or with a
now elusive one on perishable material. The strength of local custom is known to
have had an effect on the influence of Rome in other areas of the empire. As an
example, in Maktar, a Tunisian town, there was a pre-existing tradition of funerary
epigraphy in Punic and to a certain extent the Roman military themselves blended
into the town and became ‘Punicised’ with their funerary customs gradually
adopting a Punic way (Meyer 1990: 86). If this type of integration occurred in
Britain it may account for our relative lack of inscribed tombstones.
Considering the origins of epigraphic monuments as funerary commemoration, it
would seem that the most obvious group to be erecting them would be members of
the Roman army, and indeed the figures support this assumption. Over 30% (149)
of the tombstones in RIB I have definite military connections, with more recent
177
discoveries reported in Britannia also reflecting that trend. Almost another 20%
(82), many at military sites such as Chester, Caerleon and the northern areas
around Hadrian’s Wall, are too fragmentary to provide any useful information at
all and many more provide only certain aspects of the deceased’s life. Although it
is highly likely that many of these would have had military connections of which
we are unaware. The question then remains as to how many of these military
personnel and members of their family, erecting tombstones, were from outside the
province. Some of the tombstones give the place of birth of the deceased, there are
those claiming to have been citizens of Rome and Greece, there are Spaniards,
Sardinians and Germans by birth, to name just a few. We have a dedication to a
tribeswoman from the area around modern day Metz in France (RIB 1: 163) and
one to a fifteen year old boy, Salamanes (RIB 1: 2182), a Semitic name common in
the Syrian region (Collingwood and Wright 1965: 674). Several commemorations
indicate the Greek origins of the deceased. These include the Greek foster child,
Hermagoras, (RIB 1: 1291) at High Rochester, Aulus Alfidius Olussa, ‘born at
Athens’ (RIB 1: 9) who died in London probably in the first century, and Flavius
Antigonus Papias, a ‘citizen of Greece’ (RIB 1: 955) who was buried in Carlisle in
the fourth century and, based on the inscriptional, evidence could have been a
Christian (Collingwood and Wright 1965: 318). The tombstone erected to Hermes
of Commagene, south-east Turkey (RIB 1: 758), found at Brough-underStainmore, is inscribed in Greek while another, commemorating Sextus from
Brixia in northern Italy (RIB 1: 538) displays a Greek influence in the sculpting of
the relief (Collingwood and Wright 1965: 179). This last would indicate the
possibility of a sculptor being trained, if not in Greece, then by a Greek master.
One well known, and oft quoted, outstanding example of a commemorative
civilian tombstone that gives a wonderfully clear insight into the cultural diversity
of the province, is that of Regina (RIB 1: 1065) found in South Shields (fig. 8.4).
This is a tombstone with ornate relief sculpture of unusually high quality
(Colledge 1976: 232) and was erected by Barates to commemorate his wife. The
bilingual dedication, inscribed in both Latin and Palmyrene, tells us that Regina
178
was a freedwoman and a Catuvellaunian. She is depicted frontally accompanied by
her workbasket, distaff and jewel box. The portrayal of Regina in this
commemoration resembles that of reliefs found in Palmyra in several ways.
Palmyrene women were generally well endowed with jewellery (Browning 1979:
33) and the presence of Regina’s jewel box could be seen as a testament to her
husband’s nationality, while what can be ascertained of her hairstyle follows the
almost universal fashion of Palmyra in the late second century. The positioning of
the spindle and distaff are also a well-known motif popular in Palmyra, scarcely
encountered outside Roman Syria (Colledge 1976: 232). The Latin dedication to
Regina is repeated in Palmyrene, the Latin text being inept while the Palmyrene is
much more assured in its accuracy and execution (Colledge 1976: 232). This lends
credence to the assumption that this tombstone was the work of a Palmyrene
sculptor. The absence of military details in relation to Barates would indicate that,
rather than being a soldier or veteran, he was a trader or merchant. Here we have a
Roman monument being erected by a Palmyrene to a native Catuvellaunian,
indicating through personal changes of fortune and a mixture of races how varied
this society could be.
The strong indications that the tombstone was sculpted by a Palmyrene, as well as
being commissioned by one, could indicate the possibility of a small community
of Palmyrenes in the area. There is also evidence of a Palmyrene, Barates, buried
at nearby Corbridge (RIB 1: 1171). This Barates has been linked by some to the
Barates who buried his wife at South Shields (Birley 1979: 127). The legitimacy of
this depends on the translation of vexillarius as either flag-bearer, which would
mean he was a soldier, or flag-maker, in which case he was more likely to have
been a merchant or trader. The name Barates, however, is common in Palmyra and
other parts of Syria and it cannot be assumed that these two tombstones referred to
the same man (Collingwood and Wright 1965: 386).
179
Fig. 8.4: Tombstone of Regina from South Shields (Photo. P. Lynch)
180
Fig. 8.5: Tombstone of Victor from South Shields (Photo. P. Lynch)
181
Also from South Shields is the example of Victor, a Moor and freedman (fig. 8.5),
whose tombstone was erected by his patron, Numerianus who was a cavalryman in
the ala 1 Asturum (RIB 1: 1064). The Latin inscription on this tombstone is
uncertain although interestingly, a feature on this relief, the sculpting of a bunch of
leaves in his left hand, is repeatedly used on Palmyrene tombstones (Collingwood
and Wright 1965: 355) and combined with other aspects of the sculpting which
offer a connection to the relief sculpture of Palmyra (Colledge 1976: 233), it
appears likely that this may also have been the work of a Palmyrene sculptor. Once
again this very elaborate ‘figured’ tombstone provides evidence of the diversity of
the province. Had Victor, an African, been brought to Britain by his patron,
perhaps a native of Spain, or had he arrived here previously and been purchased in
a slave market? His tombstone being a Roman iconographic commemoration, to
an African, by a Spaniard, possibly sculpted by a Palmyrene, and erected on
British soil.
The Palmyrenes established an extensive trade network throughout the Roman
world with agents and merchants in ports around the empire (Ball 2000: 76). The
existence of these tombstones, with the strong indication that they were executed
by a Palmyrene sculptor, one for a Palmyrene and the other for the local market,
lends credence to the presence of a small Palmyrene trading community at South
Shields. The earliest reference to the Roman fort at South Shields, in the Notitia
Dignitatum of c.AD 400, refers to it as Arbeia. This is thought to be a Latinised
form of a name originally from Aramaic – the native language of the last attested
unit stationed at the fort, the Numerus Barcariorum Tigrisiensium – the name
referring to the region on the River Tigris where they originated from. There is
also the possibility that a specialist unit , accustomed to dealing with the dangerous
shoals of the River Tyne, may have been stationed here in the early days of the fort
and the name Arbeia, the Aramaic word for ‘Arabs’ used in Mesopotamia, adopted
at this point (Wilson 2002: 448).
182
Whatever the origin of the name, the port at South Shields and its fort performed
an important function in northern Britain during this period, with the Hadrianic
fort being completely rebuilt for the Severan campaign in the first decade of the
third century. On an estuary, with easy access to the North Sea it provided a
convenient route for Severus’ troops and supplies and eliminated the necessity for
overland travel. The fort was transformed with the addition of at least a further
eighteen granaries added to the two existing ones and a repositioning of the
principia. The expansion of the civilian population to cater for the growing needs
of the military is a distinct possibility which may have resulted in the appearance
of further traders and merchants arriving with the incoming troops.
8.3 Skeletal evidence for immigrants
It is extremely difficult to determine an individuals’ place of origin, with any
precision, from skeletal analysis alone. However, advances in technology are
continually improving our chances in this area. Skeletal characteristics may well
vary between populations but the problem arises that populations, over time, vary
as much as populations of different areas. Within a few generations an immigrant
population may be skeletally adapted and have produced many variables.
An analysis of the demography of a cemetery population can occasionally lead to
hypotheses regarding the migration of groups into a community, but these are
extremely imprecise and do not differentiate between the movement of people
from within the province and from without. Recent immigrants into an area often
succumb to endemic diseases and the cemetery population may reflect this with an
over representation of young adults with no immunity (Farwell and Morrison
1993: 154). This theory was applied to the Poundbury cemetery, Dorchester and,
although one small sample showed some evidence for the influx of people into the
settlement, it was concluded that this was likely to have been from a local group
and that the cemetery, on the whole, represented a homogenous population
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 170).
183
As discussed (ch. 5.1.4), there are, however, new scientific methods that can be
used to ascertain the origin of an individual. These methods of analysis, although
in general reliable, are expensive and tend to be utilised in the more high profile
cases. Both strontium and oxygen isotope analysis, utilising geological, climatic
and geographical differences, can be used in an attempt to identify place of origin.
Isotope analysis, particularly of teeth has been found to identify, within reasonable
parameters, the area where a person was raised. Oxygen isotope composition of
tissue can be linked to a person’s place of residence when that particular tissue was
formed (Budd et al. 2004: 128). The oxygen in our teeth comes mostly from the
water that we drink, nearly all drinking water comes from rain or snow and the
oxygen isotopes in these depend on various geographical factors. By comparing an
individual’s oxygen values with oxygen isotope maps, we can tell where people
spent the early part of their life (CA 184: 152). Similarly lead isotope analysis can
be conducted to identify place of origin through the source of lead in the skeleton.
At least 90% of lead absorbed into the body is fixed in skeletal tissue and an
analysis of this can also give geographical boundaries for a person’s early life.
DNA analysis, becoming common in current forensic investigations, can also be
utilised in certain cases with regard to ancient investigations. DNA samples
extracted from these skeletons and analysed, can sometimes be used, once again,
to determine the geographical origin of the individual.
On a small scale, the use of strontium and oxygen isotope analysis to determine the
childhood residence of Romano-British individuals has proved interesting. Two
skeletons from a mid-third century burial group from Mangotsfield, Avon,
returned strontium and oxygen isotope compositions indicating that they were part
of the local population. In contrast, the analysis of four mid-fourth century
skeletons from a burial group in Winchester have both strontium and oxygen
isotope compositions showing them to have originated in an area with a warmer
climate than that of Britain, possibly around the western Mediterranean or North
African coast (Budd et al. 2004: 134).
184
Analysis of the lead content in the enamel of the teeth of a young woman from
London, suggested that she had spent the early part of her life in the western
Mediterranean and a sample of DNA from one of her molars provided a profile
similar to that of individuals from the Basque region of Spain (Bahn 2002: 145).
The lead isotope composition in the ribs of a six year old from the Poundbury
cemetery was found to be identical with that of lead ores in Laurion, Greece. It is
almost certain that this child arrived from Greece shortly before death (Farwell and
Molleson 1993: 170). The fact that this was a child indicates that, not only did
people travel long distances to other provinces but that they took their families
with them.
Skeletally, the area most likely to be of assistance when attempting to determine
population affinity, and therefore assist in determining the geographical origin of
an individual, is the skull. Characteristics of the skull differ between population
groups and can be used in this type of assessment with 80-85% accuracy. Much
discussion has centred on the validity of assessing the ‘racial’ origin of skeletal
remains, and indeed, on the concept of ‘race’ itself. It cannot be denied though that
population specific characteristics are evident on a skull and many believe that
assessing race from skeletal remains is more accurate than from looking at living
people. The skeleton reflects race just as well if not better than superficial soft
tissue does. Morphological characteristics, including bone traits, tend to follow
geographic boundaries coinciding often with climatic zones. In the case of the
Roman Empire, which encompassed wide variations of climatic conditions,
analysis of facial bone structure could provide important evidence of the
movement of people. A study in the 1960’s of the skulls of those interred in the
Trentholme Drive Cemetery, York, although concluding that the majority of
individuals were identical with or closely resembled native Romano-Britons, was
also suggestive of the existence of individuals from other parts of the empire
(Wenham 1968:156).
185
Facial reconstruction is also a viable tool in this area. Working with complete and
well-preserved skulls, it is now often possible to produce a likeness of the
individual. This has been done in the case of the Lindow Man (see ch. 12.4.2).
Although this technique has been found to be relatively accurate when used on
modern skulls (Prag and Neave 1997: 20), it should be remembered that ancient
skulls present their own set of problems with differential survival and this
approach should only be used to supplement other research.
However, the application of all of the above technology to a group of skeletons in
a cemetery population could conceivably ascertain the geographical origin of the
whole group. Unfortunately this is not always a feasible situation. A rare
opportunity did occur, however, with the discovery in Bath of a late RomanoBritish skeleton, and the involvement of the media, to carry out a relatively
complete analysis of an individual. This late fourth century skeleton, buried in a
lead coffin inside the settlement area, was subjected to intensive scientific
investigation. Analysis of the oxygen isotopes in the tooth enamel revealed that the
man, at least 45 years old, had spent his childhood outside of Britain. A sample of
DNA extracted from the teeth indicated a sequence unlike the normal European
sequence and was found to indicate a Syrian ancestry. On examination, the skull
showed suggestions of some characteristics pertaining to natives of this area. The
suggestions were not strong and there were more characteristics of European
origin, however, the distinction was there. The skull was slightly prognathic,
meaning that the mouth would have projected slightly forward, and had
rectangular orbits, a common characteristic of African skulls. These racial
ambiguities point to a person of possibly mixed racial origin. This assumption was
borne out by the facial reconstruction which portrayed a person with different
facial features to those of European origin. If the DNA analysis had been used in
isolation it would have been acceptable to see this man as the possible son of a
North African woman who had married a Romano-British man. The fact that the
oxygen isotope analysis showed that the man had spent his childhood, not in
186
Britain, but somewhere south of Britain though, lends credence to the assumption
that he had been born somewhere in North Africa.
We know that there were people from many parts of the empire in Britain at this
time, arriving as soldiers, administrators and traders. However, this type of
analysis provides physical proof of their existence and, if it were possible to apply
these techniques to entire cemetery populations we would be in a much better
position to understand so many more aspects of the Romano-British population.
Whilst these are only isolated instances of the use of these advanced scientific
techniques, they are sufficient to indicate the diverse origins of the population.
These examples however have all been from the urban areas of Roman Britain and
the results are understandable. The towns and major military areas are where we
would expect to find the bulk of immigrants, both temporary and permanent.
Those concerned with the fields of administration and trade, would have been
based in these areas. Analysis of this type on skeletons from rural areas may very
well provide entirely different results.
8.4 ‘Foreign communities’
The military communities are the obvious source of what we could term ‘foreign
communities.’ The composition of these communities though would have changed
over time. Legions came and went and as men died or were discharged they would
have been replaced, increasingly by local recruits. At Vindolanda, representative
of the military on Hadrian’s Wall, regiments of Tungrians and Batavians are
known. Celtic, Germanic and Greek names are included in the lists of names
extracted from the Vindolanda Tablets as well as the more common Latin ones and
it is known that Batavian units were generally commanded by their own nobles
(Bowman 1994: 26). The wording of some of the letters between soldiers suggests
that those emanating from the same area outside the province formed alliances and
considered themselves superior to the native British recruits (Birley 2002: 100).
The Brittunculi are mentioned in the Vindolanda Tablets but other evidence for
187
recruitment is scanty (Birley 2002: 95). Tacitus mentions Britons having served
Agricola (Agr. 13, 29) and there is limited epigraphic evidence. There is evidence
for legionaries from all three of the first-century coloniae, possibly the sons of
veterans, who would have been enlisted in the legions in Britain and gone on to
serve in other areas of the empire where their deaths are attested (Birley 1979:
105). It is likely that a number of British born officers and soldiers would have
served in the province, however evidence is extremely meagre (Birley 1979: 106)
with most dedications not listing place of origin.
York, another highly militarised area, with a preponderance of male burials (80%
of the 343 inhumations in the Trentholme Drive Cemetery and all of the 80
individuals buried at the Driffield Terrace site being male), provides several types
of evidence for a culturally diverse population. Tombstones were erected to Lucius
Duccius Rufinus from Vienna (RIB 1: 673), to Valerius Theodorianus from just
north of Rome (RIB 1: 677), to Gaius from Novara, west of Milan (RIB 1: 680)
and to Julia Fortunata from Sardinia (RIB 1: 687), while an altar has been found
dedicated to the African, Italian and Gallic Mother Goddesses (RIB 1: 653). The
emperor Septimius Severus, himself a native of Africa having been born in Leptis
Magna, established his imperial headquarters in York for three years in the early
third century, dying there in AD 211. With him, in his campaign against the
Scottish tribes north of Hadrian’s Wall, he brought troops from around the empire
including North Africa. A distinctive style of cooking pot of African form, was
found in York but whether this is indicative of an African population in York
(Swan 1992: 21), or the existence of potters in the town who had previously
worked in Africa (Monaghan 1993: 709) is certainly not clear. Although, the
sudden introduction of this unique form of pottery in York does suggest a military
involvement (Monaghan 1993: 702).
As previously discussed the use of anthropological evidence alone in assessing
racial affinity is extremely risky, however skeletal differences, particularly those
associated with the skull, should be considered in the case of York. As previously
188
mentioned (ch. 8.3), at the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, where analysis of skulls
was undertaken, it was cautiously maintained that ‘the evidence is strongly
suggestive of a considerable admixture of races from outside these islands
(Britain)’ (Wenham 1968: 156) and there is some suggestion of the occasional
presence amongst the population of the cemetery of individuals originating from
the Middle East and North Africa (Wenham 1968: 157).
‘Foreign’ burial rites within Romano-British cemeteries can also be viewed as
evidence for the existence of groups of migrants within the population. The
Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester, is the obvious and oft quoted example of this
with two groups of ‘intrusive’ burials being identified by Clarke (1979). Sixteen
graves, dated to the second half of the fourth century, have been identified as a
group of people foreign to the area but who were gradually assimilated into the
community. The earliest of these graves are seen to adhere faithfully to a
distinctive layout, whilst in the later ones, there is a gradual dissolution of the
pattern. The hypothesis is based on the inclusion in the graves of distinctly foreign
material elements in the form of jewellery and equipment and the positioning of
these goods on and around the body.
The second group, which consists of six graves closely dated to c.390-410, once
again contains non Romano-British features. This group lacks the consistent layout
of the sixteen and, although not related in their appearance, they do have some
points in common (Clarke 1979: 390), including the scarcity of vessels in the
graves and a complete lack of coins, which are common in the group of sixteen.
Analysis of this group of burials has concluded that an Anglo-Saxon origin is
inevitable and some at least have parallels with the graves from the Anglo-Saxon
homeland (G. Clarke 1979: 398). The difference between the group of six and
typical Anglo-Saxon burials is accounted for by the gradual assimilation into the
Romano-British community of families originally from the Anglo-Saxon areas of
the empire.
189
Although there has been some discussion on the validity of Clarke’s reasoning
regarding the origin of these people (Baldwin 1985), the unavoidable conclusion is
that there are differences in the presentation of these burials. The fact that they are
confined to a particular time span makes it unlikely that they are a local group
displaying their alternative ideas. If this was the case it is more likely their burials
would cover a much longer period.
The distinctive burial rites found in the cemetery outside the fort at Brougham,
Cumbria also indicate a foreign influence. This cemetery was originally excavated
in 1966-67, however, recent analysis and publication of the results has provided
much new information on this third century cremation cemetery. The use of
cremation as a form of disposal, at a time when the majority of the Roman world
was practising inhumation, along with other significant aspects of the burial rite
has led to inferences regarding the origins of the population of this fort and
cemetery. It has been convincingly argued that a unit with a strong association
with the Dannubian lands was stationed here, and links with the Saxon areas of
northern Germany are intimated through the use of burial features that became
common within later Anglo-Saxon burials in Britain (Cool 2004: 308). The
identification of cremated horse remains in ten different contexts, with evidence
that three were cremated as complete or near complete carcasses, is unparalleled
within a Romano-British context (Cool 2004: 464). The only other area where
horses appear to have been cremated, in this time frame, also in limited quantities
is Switzerland. Also found in Swiss cemeteries from this period are beads of a type
normally rare in Swiss contexts, but which are frequently found in Danubian and
trans-Danubian contexts. These beads have also been discovered in the Brougham
cemetery.
Unique also in Romano-British contexts is the discovery in this
cemetery of iron bucket pendants. These are normally associated with AngloSaxon burials in Britain (Cool 2004: 384). Both the pendants and the distinct bead
type found at Brougham are indicative of a trans-Danubian connection (Cool 2004:
384, 464).
190
Occasional discoveries of the burials of individuals rather than groups, believed to
have been influenced by traditions from other parts of the empire, are also
indicative of a ‘foreign’ element in Britain, particularly towards the end of the
Romano-British period. However, the extent of that element is debatable. The
burial of a female (B374) in the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London has been
identified as an immigrant from continental Europe on the basis of personal
ornaments found with the body (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 318). This burial is
dated to the late fourth to early fifth century and coincides with the group of
intrusive burials in the Lankhills cemetery. The distinctive Germanic style
brooches found with this burial, although extremely rare in Britain, have been
found in graves in Germany and France and reflect a Germanic tradition (Barber
and Bowsher 2000:183). Also included in this grave was a comb of triangular
form. One of the ‘intrusive’ burials from Lankhills, also dated to the late fourth to
early fifth century was also found to contain a triangular comb. These combs, on
the basis of several studies, are a resolutely Germanic form of object and are taken
to reflect a Germanic presence (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 184). Examples of
these combs, although present in other Romano-British contexts, have been found
in a mortuary context only in the Winchester and London cemeteries. The
inclusion of personal items or jewellery of foreign origin in individual graves
however should not be taken as unequivocal evidence for the geographical origin
of the person buried in the grave. There are numerous circumstances under which
these items could have come into the possession of the deceased or their relatives.
These could include the giving of the items as gifts to the deceased, possibly from
a husband. The items could have been brought into the province as possessions of
another migrant but could equally have been purchased on travels. The items may
not have belonged to the deceased at all but have been put into the grave by
relatives.
8.5 Discussion
The Roman Empire, by its very nature, was essentially a cultural blend. Its
expansion and assimilation policies resulted in the amalgamation of a diverse mix
191
of people with differing social, cultural and religious beliefs. Britain, during the
four centuries of Roman rule would have been no exception. The advent of the
army during the initial invasion period, the legions already a mix of provincials
and destined to become more so, would have swelled the population. The influx of
administrative personnel, traders and families from other areas of the empire in the
ensuing generations, regardless of the length of their stay, would have imprinted a
significant legacy upon the cultural landscape of Britain.
Social networks would have been established based on shared cultural
backgrounds. Personal letters between the officers on Hadrian’s Wall and those
between their wives are evidence of such relationships. Immigrants have always
tended to draw together and create communities within their new surroundings,
through shared history, culture and language. To a greater or lesser degree these
communities gradually integrate into the wider community but still maintain
connections to those of similar origins. Although these new residents very often
adapt to the customs of their adopted country, they do not necessarily abandon all
of their own inherited customs and rites. Religious beliefs and associated rites are
often the areas that withstand change the longest, and can be seen integrated with
local tradition to create unique examples of blended custom. This is evidenced in
the merging of Celtic and Roman cultural icons to create uniquely Romano-British
iconic figures. The worship of Sulis-Minerva at Bath combines the classical
goddess Minerva with Sulis, the local deity with healing power (fig. 8.6). The
temple and bath complex was established in the first century with the sacred spring
at its heart. Its therapeutic potential was exploited and dedications by the Roman
soldiers to Sulis-Minerva and to Sulis alone have been discovered. Another
Romano-Celtic temple, established much later, in the fourth century, was at
Lydney, Gloucestershire. This temple, built on the site of an Iron-Age hillfort and
Roman iron mine, associated the local deity Nodens with the Roman god Mars in a
healing capacity. These centres were hybrids of the Roman and the Celtic, a
Roman concept but integrating the powers of local and Roman deities.
192
Fig. 8.6: Reconstruction of the pediment of the temple of Sulis Minerva, Bath. Roman Bath
Museum (Photo. P. Lynch)
The cosmopolitan nature of the major towns is evident in the skeletal analysis of
the inhabitants and in the material remains of their rituals. Jewellery, fabric
remains, oils and the organic remains of plants and animals buried with them,
personal items and weapons from their graves and the remains of the places in
which they worshipped give us an insight into the amount of variability that
existed within communities. They would have been communities of fluctuating
populations. Administrative personnel would have been posted to the province for
a fixed period and then transferred to other areas within the empire, likewise, the
military personnel. Centurions were often transferred from legion to legion and
between provinces (Birley 1979: 72/73). One such example may be quoted, that of
Ti. Claudius Vitalis. Of Spanish origin, he was commissioned directly into the
Moesian legion V Macedonica, then served in I Italica and I Minerva, normally
stationed on the Rhine but at this time in the east where Vitalis was decorated for
service in the Dacian war. He was then commissioned to the XX and IX legions in
193
Britain and held a final centurionate in VII Claudia on the Danube (Birley 1979:
74). Whole legions were drafted in and out of Britain as the necessity arose. When
losses were on a large scale in Britain large drafts were called for from the German
armies and, likewise, when trouble flared in other areas reinforcements were taken
from Britain.
The composition of communities would have varied quite considerably and, even
with our limited evidence, the difference is obvious in the burial record. In London
we have the evidence of the procurator Classicianus and his wife Julia Pacata,
members of the Gallic aristocracy, the unidentified lady buried in the Eastern
Cemetery who is likely to have been from a wealthy and high ranking family of
Germanic origin and the young woman who spent her early life in Spain. The
governor’s staff was based in the London, many would have been posted to the
province from other areas of the empire, some to remain, others to move on to
positions elsewhere. We have the child whose life ended in Dorchester but who
was born in Greece and the North African man who lived his last years in Bath.
From South Shields we have Barates, the Palmyrene, who buried his wife, a native
Catuvellaunian, and commemorated her with such an elaborate and detailed
tombstone and Victor the Moor, whose tombstone was erected by his patron, a
native of Spain.
Of the major cemeteries that have been excavated, that at Poundbury, Dorchester
seems to stand alone in its lack of evidence for a foreign influence. With the
exception of the young Greek boy there is no evidence to suggest that those of
foreign birth settled here. There are no skeletal indicators or material goods
associated with the burials that suggest any outside influence. Whereas, other
Roman burials around Dorchester have produced evidence, similar to that at
Lankhills, for an intrusive element, in the form of personal ornamentation within
the grave. It has been suggested therefore that the Poundbury Cemetery could be
associated more with a rural than an urban context (Farwell and Molleson 1993:
239) and this would seem to be born out by its similarity more with the smaller
194
rural cemeteries than those in the urban areas of London, Winchester and
Cirencester.
In areas with a high military presence the initial period would have seen a high
proportion of the population emanating from outside the province, with the
community boosted with local suppliers and tradesmen. With the death and
retirement of these soldiers and their replacement with an increasingly local cohort
there would have been a gradual change in the composition of the population. But
many of the new recruits, although locally born, would have been sons of the
initial immigrants and tradition would have dictated that many religious, social and
cultural aspects from around the empire would have become embedded in the
Romano-British lifestyle. The random discovery and analysis of the remains of
some individuals and epigraphic references to others is sufficient to show the
cultural diversity of many of the major centres of Roman Britain. It establishes for
us a framework into which we can place the population and allows us to visualize
the cosmopolitan atmosphere that is likely to have become an established part of
these towns.
But, even if we assume that much of the urban and military population initially had
its roots outside the province - which is by no means certain, as discussed earlier
we are still looking at only a very small percentage of the overall population of the
province. As previously established, the bulk of the population of Roman Britain
was to be found in the rural areas and it is precisely these people who are missing
from the burial record. In attempting to assess the cultural diversity of the
province, once again, the urban/rural divide is cause for caution. Unlike the towns,
which in many cases were established to provide the infrastructure required to
govern and supply the province, it is unlikely that the composition of the rural
population underwent any major change during this period. We have little
mortuary evidence that points to those on small settlements being anything other
than locally born. Villas may have been acquired by wealthy incomers or retired
Roman administrative staff however the workers would have been locals.
195
Evidence from small settlements such as those at Bradley Hill, Somerset and
Barnetby-Le-Wold, Lincolnshire strongly suggests that the same kinship group
occupied these sites throughout their existence which, in the latter case, began in
the Late Pre-Roman Iron-Age. These ordinary farming communities may have
benefited from the importation of Roman agricultural ideas but it is unlikely that
they would have encountered the influx of any significant number of people from
culturally diverse backgrounds.
196
PART 4: ALTERNATIVE RITES
197
CHAPTER 9: THE UNUSUAL
________________________________________________________
9.1 Introduction
Given the relatively small number of burials found from the Romano-British
period it is surprising to note the number of individuals who were buried either in
unusual circumstances or unusual places. That may, of course, explain their
survival. Curious rituals, although relatively rare, provoke our interest, instances of
violence intrigue the detective in us and from these instances we can become much
more aware of the realities of life during this period.
We may ask questions of this period of British history just as we would for any
other, but lacking any written and documentary evidence our answers, reliant on
archaeology, will necessarily in many cases be conjectural. We can question the
prevalence of violent crime in this ancient society and how punishment was
decided and inflicted. Were the perpetrators of murder themselves killed? If so
were they then buried with any less ceremony or away from the mainstream
cemetery? Why were some individuals – men, women and children - decapitated
after death yet often buried alongside the rest of the community, and why was the
skull in many cases removed from its correct anatomical position and placed in
different positions within the grave? Who were the people found buried in caves
and why did they not adhere to the constructs what we know of mainstream
society? Did they choose to live and sometimes bury their dead in these
surroundings or was such a decision forced upon them for some reason? Did the
individuals, found remarkably well preserved, buried in peat bogs hold some
significant position within society and were they sacrificial victims of a ritual
played out to bring benefits to that society? Obviously many of these questions
will remain unanswered but in some cases, where evidence allows, realistic
hypotheses may be posited.
Analysis and discussion of evidence for Romano-British occupation and burial
focuses in the main on high profile sites - villas, public buildings and large burial
198
areas. Discussions surrounding mortuary archaeology centre on the major
cemeteries and those settlements for which we have clearly defined and published
results. We use the cemeteries of Cirencester and York as evidence of ‘military’
populations and the Lankhills cemetery, Winchester for discussions on the impact
of foreign burial rites. The cemetery belonging to the small settlement at Bradley
Hill, Somerset is generally viewed as evidence of the perceived total population of
a fourth century, domestic community, which included adults, children and infants
while the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester, gives us an insight into a large
community and the opportunity to assess demographic issues. The view of the
Romano-British population that analysis and discussion of these cemeteries affords
us is necessarily limited. We are confined, in most instances, to looking at
populations whose burial practices favoured organisation and included material
elements, and whose resources allowed this outward display. Added to this is the
complication that burial practices that did not include an element of permanency,
some form of delineation, or material evidence are much more likely to have been
destroyed or escaped the notice of archaeology. Also, many discoveries of Roman
period occupation, once past the excavation and initial analysis stage are confined
to the archives and do not figure in the general discussion on Roman Britain.
The Roman period in Britain can be seen as something of an anomaly in regard to
population studies. From the Roman period, through the medium of archaeology,
we have an abundance of evidence for what we perceive as the upper end of the
social strata. For later periods of British history, written and documentary evidence
allows a greater insight into those from the lower end of the social scale and their
lives. Archaeology provides the very obvious material evidence from the Roman
period in Britain giving us the remains of villas and substantial buildings. Artifacts
surviving the two millennia include jewellery, military paraphernalia and
household goods designed for use by those who would have been in a substantially
elevated position or at least in the position to be able to own them. The mortuary
evidence centres on tombstones, organised and socially confined burial areas and
the provision of grave goods. Tombstones, although not necessarily expensive
199
(Saller and Shaw 1984: 128), are likely to have been beyond the reach of the poor.
Also the chances are that, as a Roman concept, tombstones may not have figured
in the lives of those living away from the major centres of Roman cultural
influence. In reference to grave goods, which again may not necessarily have been
of an expensive nature, the family would have had to have been in the position to
be able to afford the loss of them. They are therefore unlikely to figure amongst
the burials of those of more modest means, the impoverished or the indigent.
Furthermore, in every society there are those who do not conform to society’s
rules. Regardless of how widespread beliefs and religious and social customs may
be, there are those who either choose to be different or have the decision thrust
upon them. To live differently, to have different beliefs, to observe different
practices and to practice different religions. Britain during the Roman period is
unlikely to have been different. This chapter will, from the archaeological
evidence, look at just a few instances from Roman Britain where people possibly
lived their lives on the periphery of society or whose burial implies that their lives
or their deaths were somewhat unique.
9.2 Cave burials
The use of caves by the Romano-British for domestic and mortuary purposes is an
area which has attracted little attention from researchers. The only publication
dedicated to the subject is that by Branigan and Dearne, Romano-British Cavemen:
Cave use in Roman Britain published in 1992, and much of the following
information is extracted from that publication. In this book the authors
documented evidence for Romano-British cave usage and attempted to use the
evidence to interpret the use to which the caves were put. All of the main cave
areas in England and Wales appear to have seen Romano-British cave usage
(Branigan and Dearne 1992: 40) and span the entire period from the mid-first
century A.D. to the late fourth (fig. 9.1). Some appear to have had periods of
temporary occupancy whilst others provided a more permanent form of
occupation.
200
Fig. 9.1: Distribution of caves in England and Wales with evidence of Romano-British usage (From
Branigan and Dearne 1992: 39)
Early man is known to have inhabited caves in Africa, China and Europe (Kempe
1988: 25ff) with the oldest cave site in Europe, at Acheulian Le Vallonet in
France, being occupied around 700,000 or more years ago (Kempe 1988: 34).
Evidence of cave habitation in Britain dates to Palaeolithic times (Kempe 1988:
37) with several caves, including Poole’s Cavern, Thirst House and Wookey Hole,
(known to have housed Romano-Britons), producing evidence of occupation by
Neolithic people (Kempe 1988: 56). Caves have figured in the world of myth and
legend through all periods of history including Greek and Roman (Kempe 1988:
201
230), and in Britain historical legends abound involving caves, particularly in the
Mendip Hills of Somerset. Wookey Hole, renowned for the number of RomanoBritish skeletons discovered there, is rich in legendary tales. Welsh legend
recounts that King Arthur slew the black witch who lived in the cave at the head of
the Stream of Sorrow on the confines of Hell, believed to refer to the River Axe
and ‘Hell’s Ladder, the approach to the first Great Cave. In the eighteenth century
it was said that the Witch of Wookey was an evil old woman who lived in the
caves with her dog, and that one day while casseroling a child she was turned to
stone by a monk who sprinkled her with holy water. Visitors to the cave system
today are attracted to the cave formations portraying the witch and her dog. The
witch turned to stone or a stalagmite formation? The myth continues regardless of
modern attitudes.
Caves offer several features which are likely to have appealed to those RomanoBritons looking for alternative accommodation. Initially, their immediate
availability would be a major benefit, there would have been no labour involved in
creating shelter for instant occupation. Caves also provide a relatively constant
temperature, night-time temperatures do not drop much below those of the daytime
and they are warmer and dryer in the winter. In most cases the occupants would
also have the option of utilising the area immediately in front of the cave entrance
creating the flexibility of outdoor as well as indoor areas for various activities. The
security aspect also should not be underestimated. With generally only one
entrance, and one that may often have been difficult to detect, privacy and security
would have been easily maintained.
The results of Branigan and Dearne’s research indicated that cave usage in the
Romano-British period included both long and short-term usage and fell broadly
into seven different categories, with some being more prevalent than others. These
categories included domestic occupation, workshop occupation, shelter, storage,
hideaway, shrine and burial place, with some serving a dual purpose. Of the
ninety-seven caves investigated, eighteen contained evidence for burial with seven
202
of these also showing evidence of other activities occurring. In five cases domestic
occupancy was apparent with three of these showing evidence for workshop
activities also, one showed evidence of occasional use and one appeared to have
been used as a hideaway.
The caves used for burial cover the four centuries of Roman occupation in Britain
(fig. 9.2) with Fairy Hole in Lancashire, Blackwell Cave, Somerset and the cave at
Charterhouse Warren Farm Swallet in the Mendips dated to c. A.D. 50-100
providing the earliest evidence. Several, including the famous Wookey Hole Cave,
Somerset, have evidence dating to the late fourth century. Generally, it would
seem that continuity of usage of caves from the pre-Roman period and into the
post-Roman period is extremely limited (Branigan and Dearne 1992: 58) however
evidence for continuity of a burial tradition within caves may be surmised
(Branigan and Dearne 1992: 35). Late Neolithic, Bronze-Age and Iron-Age burials
within caves have been documented in Britain and Branigan and Dearne advance
the theory that the Romano-British cave burials may be a continuation of a burial
tradition (Branigan and Dearne 1992: 35). The number of burials associated with
the caves varies from a single burial to almost fifty and on the basis of this some
theories regarding the occupants may be considered. Those caves having evidence
for between one and four burials are suggested as representing short-lived usage
by a single family, those with between six and ten burials, family usage over a
generation or two and those with larger numbers of burials, usage by multiple
families (Branigan and Dearne 1992: 33). Those caves with larger numbers of
burials show either spatial or chronological usage. At Wookey Hole twenty eight
fourth century inhumations have been discovered in a segregated cemetery area, as
well as the remains of a further nineteen individuals, washed down the river, which
are believed to have originated in the cemetery. This cemetery area was discovered
in chamber 4, further into the cave system than the domestic occupation site and
the burials are dated by the material evidence found with them. This included
pottery, glass, coins and jewellery. The burials in the cave at Ogof-yr-Esgyrn were
203
separated chronologically rather than spatially. Although found in a discrete group,
domestic occupation appeared to have ceased prior to the bodies being interred.
BURIALS
CAVES
NUMBER
DATING
OF
BURIALS
1-4
Fox Hole Cave, Derbyshire
1
c.75-200
Thirst House Cave, Derbyshire
4
c.100-200/
250-275
Fairy Hole, Lancashire
Charterhouse,
Warren
?
c.50-100
Farm 1
c.50-100
Swallet, Somerset
6-12
Taylors Wood Cave
4
?
Lynx Cave
?
c.75-125
Ogof-yr-ychen
1
?
Frank-I-th-Rocks Cave
10+
c.100-200/
c.325-375
Poole’s Cavern
6+
c.80-225
Maeshafn Cave
6
c.75-200
Merlin’s Cave
6
c.80-160/
270-360
?over 20
Nant-y-graig
?6
c.100-300
Dog Holes Cave
23+
c.300-400
Backwell Cave
18+
c.50-100
Wookey Hole
47+
c.125-175/
c.250-400
Ogof-yr-Esgyrn
40+
c.90-180/
c.290-340
Fig. 9.2: Caves with burial evidence from the Romano-British period (Figures extracted from
Branigan and Dearne 1992: 82-113).
204
Caves have always been used for domestic purposes, albeit in small numbers and
by those individuals and families not constrained by society’s expectations or
limitations. Branigan and Dearne document cases of relatively recent cave usage
as living quarters and there is undoubtedly usage on at least a short-term basis by
itinerants in the present day.
The question of who these people were who lived in these caves during the
Romano-British period is obviously one which will continue to defy interpretation.
Many of the discoveries were made in the late nineteenth and early twentieth
century and the remains were not subjected to the scientific analysis available
today. One group of individuals for whom we do have limited information is the
cemetery population found at Wookey Hole. Of the twenty-eight individuals
interred there, twenty are estimated to have died before the age of twenty, with
fifteen of them dying between the ages of ten and twenty. The remaining eight did
not survive beyond thirty (fig. 9.3) (Branigan and Dearne 1992: 24). What caused
the deaths of these young people when we generally see deaths in this age group as
a much lower percentage of the cemetery population? In most Romano-British
cemeteries those in the ten to twenty year age group make up between five and ten
percent of the population. At the larger cemeteries of Cirencester, Poundbury and
the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London these burials account for 5%, 8% and 7%
respectively. Even in the smaller communities at Bletsoe and Hibaldstow the
figures are similar with Bletsoe having 5%-6% of the cemetery population in this
age group and the cemetery at Hibaldstow producing evidence of only one
definitely dying in this age group out of the total of fourteen burials. In contrast,
fifty percent of the burials in the cemetery at Wookey hole were in this age group,
a highly unusual scenario.
205
Fig. 9.3: Estimated ages of burials in Wookey Hole 4th chamber cemetery (From Branigan and
Dearne 1992: 24)
We can only speculate about this imbalance. There is the possibility that there was
a separate burial area for the older individuals of the community, but we would
generally expect to find a difference in burial between adults and children rather
206
than the distinction being made around the age of thirty. Consideration should also
be given to the possibility that this group of young people may have had some
form of illness or abnormality which rendered them unwelcome in the outside
community. Mental or physical illness or disability, possibly genetic, may have
spawned a small community of these young people who did not generally survive
into adulthood. There was an abundance of Romano-British finds in this cave
compared to other caves, including jewellery, iron, lead and stone implements and
coins. The cave served several purposes, including that of a workshop, and there is
speculation that production may have occurred on a commercial basis. The
‘domestic’ nature of the finds included table and kitchen ware, personal
adornments, domestic tools and implements but there is also evidence of
metalworking with bronze, lead and iron. Thirty complete and thirteen incomplete
spindle whorls found here are suggestive of wool production and spinning and an
abundance of bone items in the cave also leads to speculation that these items were
produced in marketable quantities. Another possibility for the population of this
burial community is that these young people may have been chosen to live and
work in this small commercial enterprise. Again were they singled out for some
reason, some physical or mental incapacity that rendered them prone to death at an
early age? Was there some risk associated with their occupation that resulted in
their deaths?
The metalworking comes as no surprise in this area of Britain. The lead mines of
the Mendips were well known to the Romans and were utilised as early as the
reign of Claudius with British lead ingots, believed to be from this area, discovered
in northern France and in the ruins of Pompeii (Wilson 2002: 154). The inhabitants
of the Wookey Hole cave were probably utilising the naturally occurring metals of
the area for their own purposes as there is insufficient evidence for production on
any large scale. However, both wool production and spinning and the production
of bone pins and needles could have been carried on for commercial purposes.
Two other caves providing evidence for production on a commercial scale during
the Romano-British period are Poole’s Cavern in the Peak District and Minchin
207
Hole in Wales. Finds at Poole’s Cavern include much bronze working waste and
tools, a wide array of brooches and decorative bronze work and unique lead mould
formers for brooches and accessories (Branigan and Dearne 1992: 88). At Minchin
Hole it is the exceptionally fine examples of worked bone spoons discovered there
along with examples of bone combs that lead to assumptions regarding production
of these items for marketing (Branigan and Dearne 1992: 26). The unique
character of Wookey Hole is in its use as a major burial area contemporary with
use of a domestic and workshop nature. The only other caves producing evidence
of a relatively large number of burials are Dog Holes, Haverbrack, Lancashire and
Ogof-yr-Esgyrn in Wales. At Dog Holes the cave is entered by a six metre deep
vertical shaft, there is no evidence for domestic or workshop occupation and there
is some question as to whether all of the skeletal remains are of a Romano-British
date. At Ogof-yr-Esgyrn, where the remains of over forty Romano-British
individuals have been discovered, evidence was found for domestic occupation,
although the two uses were not contemporary. Occupation of the cave ceased prior
to the interment of the bodies.
Many of the groups of people living in the caves during the Romano-British
period, particularly those that chose to bury their dead in this environment, may
have either chosen to live or act without the confines of society or been forced for
some reason to do so. The types of groups involved in activity of this kind could
be many - social, physical or mental outcasts, family or extended family groups
with differing beliefs or bandits and felons. Those ostracised by society or
threatened by the actions or beliefs of others or those simply choosing a more
solitary lifestyle would have found these caves a readily available, suitable form of
accommodation.
208
9.3 Decapitation burials
9.3.1 Introduction
Fig. 9.4. Decapitated burial dating to the late fourth century from a cemetery at Stanwick (From
Mays 1998: 174)
When assessing the burial practices of Roman Britain we should remember that we
are looking at a time span of nearly four hundred years. Values and practices
would have been continually changing over this period. There are also
innumerable levels of Romanization or integration throughout Britain, no grave or
burial is entirely native or entirely Roman and we must therefore attempt to assess
209
a combination of beliefs and practices extending over a wide area and evolving
over several centuries. There was no one Roman attitude to death (Henig 1984:
190) just as there will be no one answer to the questions surrounding burial
practices and, in particular, decapitation in this period. It is important not to see all
decapitations as identical in cause and consequence. As will be discussed there are
numerous characteristics which vary between these burials and there is no one
typical decapitation burial.
Decapitation burials of the Romano-British period have been discovered at over
eighty sites throughout Britain. Philpott (1991) documented over seventy sites
with at least a further dozen being discovered since then. With only a few
exceptions the sites are clustered south of a line between the Wash and the Bristol
Channel (fig. 9.5). The most westerly has been found in Somerset, the most
northerly in York and there is a notable lack of finds in the south-east county of
Kent. This absence of evidence in the south-east could be allied to the dearth of
Romano-British burial evidence in general from this area.
●●
●●
●
●
●
● ●
●
● ●
●●●● ● ●●●
●
●
●● ●
●
●
●
● ●●
●
●●●
● ●●
●
●
●●
●●● ● ●●●
●●●
●
●
● ●● ●●
●
● ●
●
● ●●
● ●
●●
● ●●●
●● ●
● ●
●●
●●
●
Fig. 9.5: Distribution of decapitation burials in Roman Britain (Sources: varied)
210
Decapitation burials have been discovered as isolated instances, in small numbers
in burial areas and in significant numbers in some cemeteries. Using only those
cemeteries where decapitations have occurred the proportion of decapitations was
around 6% in 1991 (Philpott 1991: 80). The excavation of two cemeteries since
that date, with much larger percentages of decapitations, has increased that figure
significantly. At Melford Meadows, Brettenham, in Norfolk, excavations in 1994
produced evidence of a small inhumation cemetery containing twenty-six burials.
Thirty-five percent of these were decapitated individuals. Recent excavations at
Driffield Terrace, York have yielded part of a cemetery area with an unusually
large percentage of decapitation burials (fig. 9.6).
Fig. 9.6: Excavation of decapitated skeletons at Driffield Terrace, York (From York Archaeological
Trust web site)
Of the 61 individuals who had skulls and cervical vertebrae remaining 79% had
been decapitated (Tucker forthcoming). Until recently those decapitation burials
which had been successfully dated, were found to be exclusive to the mid to late
fourth century A.D. whereas the decapitation burials discovered in the Driffield
Terrace cemetery are believed to date to a much earlier period, possibly the late
211
second to early third century. The unique character of this cemetery however - the
preponderance of males and the unusually high number of decapitations – renders
this site in a category of its own.
9.3.2 Dating
The dating of these type specific burials could have some bearing on the rationale
behind this practice. Prior to the York discovery the evidence suggested that
decapitation began to establish itself in the late third century becoming more
prevalent in the fourth (Philpott 1991: 79). There is a belief that in times of
uncertainty there is a tendency to revert to ancient religious practices and to adjust
or modify old myths, in some cases even, to abandon more humane standards
(Clarke 1979: 431, Scott 1991: 119). Watts (1998: 44) sees the resurgence of
burials with grave goods of an amuletic type at Butt Road, Colchester during the
late fourth century as indicating a return to pagan superstition in a thoroughly
Romanized part of Britain. With the death of Constantine in A.D. 337 the Roman
Empire was divided, in the ensuing conflicts Britain was to undergo a period of
severe stress. Not only were the British garrisons being diminished by imperial
conflict but there were increasingly successful attacks by barbarians. The Picts
were learning the advantages of sea-borne raiding which enabled them to pillage
southern Britain. In such unsettled conditions the reasons behind unusual burial
practices are difficult to determine. It has been considered that the rite of
decapitation generally appears to be too late to be associated with the Iron-Age
severed head cult yet too early to be associated with the large scale arrival of
barbarians (Salway 1997: 521). So, in what context does it belong? Although the
Iron-Age cult of decapitation was more associated with victory in battle and the
display of the heads as spoils of war (Whimster 1981: 186) it is possible that
through time this ritual had been adapted. Applying the theory of the adaptation of
ancient myth and practice in an attempt to cope with economic and political
uncertainty, and to assuage the increasingly prevalent tensions and fears of the
community, could go some way to accounting for the appearance of these
decapitation burials in this later period of Roman Britain.
212
With the localisation of decapitation in the southern areas of Britain can we also
possibly posit the idea that the influence of southern raiders or immigrants from
other parts of the empire may be part of the explanation? Around this time we have
evidence of what Clarke (1979) sees as a new burial rite appearing in the Lankhills
Cemetery, Winchester (ch. 8.4). Around the mid-fourth century burials began to
appear which included unusual grave goods, including personal ornaments and
equipment such as knives and spindle-whorls. These offerings were placed mainly
by the right foot. Coincidentally in many cases of decapitation this was the
positioning of the skull. Parallels to this rite are found only in Bavaria and
Hungary and Clarke believes that this creates a strong case for movement of
people from these areas to southern Britain. A reassessment of Clarke’s findings,
however, by Baldwin (1985) repudiates this evidence as an indication of intrusive
foreign elements. He concurs that this group of burials is unusual and he sees
Lankhills as a good indication that variations occurred in Romano-British burial
practices. He believes though, that as variation in burial rite is the norm in
Romano-British cemeteries, it is difficult to see how one can support foreign
ethnic origins as a more acceptable cause than anything else in these atypical
burials (Baldwin 1985: 93-104). Evidence for cremations in the Lankhills
Cemetery, dated to the fourth century when the rite of inhumation was prevalent, is
also suggestive of intrusive Germanic elements (Philpott 1991: 51). Clarke (1979)
noting the declining standards of burial in general in the late fourth century at
Lankhills, finds it difficult to avoid the conclusion that the organisation of burial
was breaking down. What we find then, particularly in the southern areas of
Britain, in the mid to late fourth century, is an amalgam of inhabitants of different
ethnic and religious backgrounds set in the midst of a politically and
administratively unstable environment where social practices were open to outside
influences. The likelihood of this influence on the population resulting in the
adoption of decapitation by a limited number of people should at least be seen as a
possibility.
213
The discovery in 2004/2005 of the cemetery at Driffield Terrace York, containing
so many decapitated individuals, has now cast some doubt on the assigning of the
decapitation rite to the late third and early fourth centuries. These burials have
been dated to a least a century earlier, placing them around the late second to early
third centuries. The appearance of these burials though is inconsistent with the
majority of other decapitations and they present a unique example from the
Romano-British period. As well as the burials taking place earlier than most other
known decapitation burials – during the late second or early third century, the
method of decapitation suggests that these are likely to be execution burials rather
than a cult ritual (ch. 9.3.4.1).
There have, however, been occasional discoveries of other decapitation burials
also believed to date from an earlier period. The discovery in 1994 at Rickinghall,
Suffolk (SMR No: RKN 026) of the decapitated skeleton of a middle aged female
dating from the Romano-British period led to extensive discussion regarding the
dating of the find. Copies of correspondence supplied by The Archaeological
Service of the Suffolk County Council show that on two separate occasions
radiocarbon dating by the Oxford University Radiocarbon Accelerator Unit placed
the burial much earlier than anticipated, as early as the first century A.D. The
evidence of numerous cut marks on the cervical vertebrae, believed to have been
made by a small knife, would seem to indicate that decapitation was not the cause
of death, rather, the removal of the skull had been achieved post-mortem. The
skull was not found with the remainder of the skeleton but whether this was due to
its absence from the burial process or from post burial activity is not certain. A
young girl of six or seven years of age, whose skeleton was discovered at Sea
Mills, Bristol, had been decapitated with her skull placed on her pelvis. Dating
evidence indicated a second century date for this interment while pottery
associated with a decapitation burial at Cuxton in Kent is dated to the second half
of the first century. This burial was dismissed by Clarke in his discussion on
Romano-British decapitation burials in the Lankhills report on the basis that the
dating placed it too early to be considered in the context of Romano-British
214
burials. With the discovery of the York decapitations and the emergence of several
other instances of early Romano-British decapitations the Cuxton burial should
now perhaps be included in our discussions. A date in the early to mid-second
century is also possible for the burial of a juvenile or young adult, from Navenby,
Lincolnshire, whose disarticulated head had been placed face down close to the
feet (Allen and Palmer-Brown 2001: 15). An accessory vessel was placed where
the head should have been. The discovery of six human skulls in a pit on a second
century site at Icklingham, Suffolk also places rites associated with the head
during a period earlier than that generally associated with decapitation.
Conversely, the rite of decapitation has been shown to continue into the late
Romano-British period. The discovery of a decapitation burial at Parlington
Hollins, Yorkshire, radiocarbon dated to the fifth century being just one such
example, whilst a probable Anglo-Saxon decapitation burial associated with the
burial of a young woman at Barton, South Cambridgeshire (SMR No: 03324) is
evidence of the continuation of the rite beyond the Romano-British period.
Although few, Anglo-Saxon decapitation burials have been discovered at several
sites, with the placement of the skull following the Romano-British rite and being
found by the lower part of the body. On the basis of this type of evidence, as
limited as it appears, it is questionable whether we should assume that the rite of
decapitation began to appear as late as the last quarter of the third century and be
considered strictly Romano-British. As will be discussed shortly rites associated
with the head appear to transcend temporal boundaries and the use of decapitation
as a dating tool for Romano-British burials is risky.
9.3.3 Celtic Cult of the Head
The Celtic Cult of the Head must be taken into consideration when discussing
Romano-British decapitation burials. The Roman attitude towards methods of
disposal of the dead is known to have spread quickly to the provinces.
Nevertheless, there are abundant instances of the retention of local practices or of
amalgams. The most striking is the continuation of mummification in parts of
Roman Egypt. Some native pre-Roman burial practices in Britain, particularly in
215
rural areas, appear to have continued unabated after the Roman invasion. A prime
example of this is evident in the fact that the impact of the Roman approach to
burial on Durotrigian burial practices in Dorset appear slight before the later
second century (Clarke 1979: 54) and burials with Durotrigian characteristics have
been found in southern Britain dating to as late as the third century. The Celtic
tradition of veneration of the head is another area which seems to have transcended
the barriers of Roman occupation and continued relatively unabated through
several centuries. The classical authors tell us of the Celts’ pride in the ownership
and display of the heads of prized enemies (Ross 1967: 64-65). The human head
was regarded by the Celts as being symbolic of divinity and Otherworld powers
and there is overwhelming evidence from both continental Europe and the British
Isles attesting to this. For the depiction of the human head in Celtic art of the PreRoman Iron-Age we have abundant evidence, but these depictions do not cease or
even diminish with the arrival of the Romans. It is, in fact, from the RomanoBritish period, under the influence of Roman provincial art, that the majority of
British cult heads emanate with heads constituting the most prolific of RomanoBritish cult objects (Ross 1967: 73). We have evidence of many stone heads (fig.
9.7) with distinguishing features portraying powers of fertility and averting evil,
while others were intended to depict local or divine deities (Ross 1967: 125).
Similar examples on wood are likely to have been even more prolific but have
perished in the ensuing centuries. Although becoming classical in style these heads
retained an individuality which separated them from Roman provincial portraiture
(Ross 1967: 125).
Fig. 9.7: Stone heads from: left. Driffield Estate, York. Middle. Hulme, Manchester. Right.
Camerton, Somerset (From Ross 1967: 87)
216
The Celtic Cult of the Head also seems to have a fundamental association with
venerated waters, and archaeology has furnished several examples of the severed
head in conjunction with a watery environment during the Romano-British period.
An analysis of the contents of wells used in Roman Britain reveals that the
occurrence of skulls in such a situation is ‘by no means unique’ and that literary
tradition of the Celts, the Irish and the Welsh presents us with examples of the
head associated with watery positions (Ross 1967: 106-108). These instances are
obviously not in the same category as the decapitation burials however they can
possibly be seen to shed some light on the continuation and progression of the Cult
of the Head. A further example related to water is the discovery of nearly three
hundred skulls found in the River Thames in the last two centuries. Analysis of
one group suggests they were most likely Iron-Age or Romano-British in date and
showed no signs of pathological injuries (Bradley and Gordon 1988: 504). Due to
insufficient and inefficient recording practices during the recovery of the majority
of these skulls, very little detailed information is available on them and any
associated finds. However, the similarity with the skulls from the wells and other
watery contexts provided by Ross may lead to certain presumptions regarding the
reasoning behind such a rite. The Celtic reverence for the head combined with the
unstable conditions could perhaps be conceived as being a likely influence in some
of the decapitation burials from southern Britain during this period.
We should also take into consideration the ability of the Romans to adopt and
adapt the customs and beliefs of other peoples. Almost all Roman mythology was
derived from Greece (MacDonald 1977: 36) and they were open to adopting other
religious influences such as the oriental cults of Isis, Mithras and Cybele which
offered hope of victory over death. When the Romans came into constant contact
with the Celts it was the latter’s definite belief in an afterlife which struck them
most about their religion (MacDonald 1977: 37). If that belief in an afterlife
necessitated, in certain circumstances, a particular ritual with regard to the disposal
of the head of the deceased then a combination of Celtic and Roman religious
217
beliefs could have come into play. Religion is not static, we find throughout time
gradually but continually changing ideas. Some of these decapitation burials could
be evidence of small groups of devotees or even fanatics, intent on taking their
beliefs to the extreme. Possibly these decapitated individuals were special in some
way, had special powers or abilities that necessitated this ritual.
As discussed, we find the majority of decapitation burials, although by no means
all of them, occurring during the mid to late fourth century. The earlier rite of
cremation is one possible reason for the dearth of earlier evidence although
inhumation became the prevalent rite around the mid second century and was
certainly well established by the third. There is evidence though to suggest that at
times even in the context of cremation some heads were treated differently from
the rest of the body. In the investigation of the cremation burials at Skeleton Green
during the 1970’s it was discovered that skull bones were missing surprisingly
often. Calvin Wells suggests that this could imply the possibility of skull bones
surviving the cremation process and then being retrieved by relatives (Wells 1981:
291). At the third century cremation cemetery at Brougham, there were two
instances of cremation where the skull was missing. Cool (2004: 301) believes that
the absence is indicative of deliberate exclusion and that it may have been used for
some ritual purpose. Excavations at the Romano-British cemetery at Guilden
Morden produced a burial which is believed to represent a transitional stage from
cremation to inhumation. This charred skeleton was missing its skull (Lethbridge
1936: 114).
9.3.4 Why decapitate?
Whatever the initial impetus for the rite of decapitation, be it a politically or
economically unstable climate, a breakaway minority cult or a re-emergence in
adapted form of ancient practices, theories abound as to the reasons behind the
continuation of the custom, three of which are discussed below, and the perceived
victims. The use of the word ‘victim’ though implies that the individual was an
unwilling or unknowing participant. As will be discussed, taking into account the
218
care generally taken in both the act of decapitation and the burial of the body, this
may not have been the case.
9.3.4.1 Execution
One of the reasons often proposed for decapitation in the Roman world is that of
judicial execution. It is known that decapitation was one of the methods used by
Romans to execute criminals (Justinian Digest 48:19.28) although crucifixion,
poisoning, stoning and stabbing are more likely as a form of capital punishment
(Stirland 1986: 48). It is possible that some of the decapitation burials may have
been the executions of law-breakers, however, such examples appear limited. In
the majority of cases the bodies involved in the decapitation ritual appear to have
been treated with at least some degree of care and respect and with formality. The
most common method of decapitation from the Romano-British period involved
the skull being removed by a cut from front to back. After removal from the rest of
the body, it was then placed in some obviously significant position, mostly by the
lower legs or feet see fig. 9.1). It is interesting to note that the positioning of the
skull varies considerably. Why do we find so many different skull positions?
Taking the seven decapitation burials discovered in the 1970’s excavation at the
Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester as an example, we find the skull of an infant
placed outside the coffin above the feet. Of the other six, two are to the right of the
knees, one to the left of the knees, one is face down between the lower legs, one
placed on the right femur and one between the femora. At Melford Meadows a
possible ten decapitations were excavated. Of the seven definite decapitations the
skulls of four were found placed by the knees, two by the feet and one between the
ankles. With the two women found decapitated at Guilden Morden, one skull had
been placed on the ankles of the woman while the head of the other female had
been placed in her lap. Is such a variation merely coincidence or was each position
deliberately chosen? Contrary to this apparently ritual placement of the head there
are a few known instances where the skull has been left, or replaced, in the correct
anatomical position. In the burials of five males and one female found in the Bath
Gate Cemetery, Cirencester, showing evidence of decapitation, the skulls were all
219
found in such a position. There was no evidence in this cemetery of decapitation
burials with their skulls found in any other position. Four out of the six showed
evidence that the blow which had severed the head had traversed the neck from
back to front and it would seem that all of the cuts had been made with a sharp
weapon. The assumption made here was that the soft tissues at the front of the
neck remained intact thus holding the head in place (Stirland 1986: 47). This could
be interpreted as evidence of an act performed in a violent manner and possible
execution rather than a cult requiring a ritual decapitation. Burial 215 was
decapitated from front to back with a sharp, narrow instrument, indicative of an
assailant standing behind the victim and drawing a dagger across his throat, into
and through the bone. Burial 216 was similarly decapitated. These two bodies
were buried in the same grave along with two other bodies which had not been
decapitated (fig. 9.7). The arrangement of the bones in this grave suggests
simultaneous burial without a coffin (McWhirr et al. 1982: 86). Unfortunately the
poor state of preservation of many of the skulls in this cemetery, many being
crushed by earth pressure during excavation or by Roman grave-diggers, could
camouflage more decapitations. The dissimilar appearance of the decapitation
burials from this cemetery compared to the majority of those from the RomanoBritish period, both in the method of decapitation and the subsequent treatment of
the skull, could be an indication that these may have been the executions of
criminals. An interesting addition to the discussion of these particular decapitation
burials is to be found in an analysis of their feet which was carried out by
chiropodist, Phyllis Jackson in 1995 and the results published in Current
Archaeology 144 (1995). Jackson’s research concluded that in a study of thirty feet
from this cemetery, all but three were found to be of a local type. Of those three,
two of them belonged to decapitated individuals who shared a common grave. The
feet of these people were subsequently found to be of a type common to Wiltshire
(Jackson 1995). Unfortunately no further information appears to be available on
this type of analysis but these results would seem to form a basis for further
questioning.
220
At the Driffield Terrace site in York, the majority of the decapitated individuals
were found with the head in the correct anatomical position. The blow (and in
some cases several blows) that had been instrumental in removing the head was
wielded mainly from behind and other peri-mortem cuts were apparent on many of
the skeletons. Of the 61 individuals who had skulls and cervical vertebrae
remaining, 55 (90%) showed evidence of decapitation, peri-mortem blade injuries
or cranial trauma (Tucker forthcoming). If this is an execution cemetery then it is
unique in a Romano-British context. However, several Anglo-Saxon execution
cemeteries have been excavated (Hayman and Reynolds 2005) and although the
most common mode of execution during this period was hanging, Anglo-Saxon
execution cemeteries are characterized by violent beheading from behind,
probably with a sword, and are often untidy and delivered to points anywhere from
the shoulder blades to the top of the head (Hayman and Reynolds 2005: 234). The
cuts that severed the heads of the Driffield Terrace victims show the same random
approach. Cuts are found on all cervical vertebrae, ranging from C1-C7 and
occasionally on the thoracic vertebrae, as well as on the mandibles of several
individuals, with blunt force cranial trauma also evident. One particular individual
(grave 4253) shows evidence of cuts to four of the cervical vertebrae, a possible
cut into a thoracic vertebra and the anterior of the lower part of the face missing
owing to at least five blows to the mandible from both the front and the back.
Reinforcing the theory that this cemetery was associated with criminals was the
discovery that one of the bodies had been buried with shackles around his ankles
(fig. 9.8). The skeleton of this middle-aged man, who had been decapitated,
showed signs of infection in his tibiae and fibulae indicating that he may have
been wearing the shackles for a significant period before his death (Tucker:
forthcoming).
221
Fig. 9.8: Shackles around the legs of a decapitation burial from Driffield Terrace, York (From York
Archaeological Trust website)
Other decapitation burials with indications of violence include one at
Helmingham, Suffolk, which showed signs of mutilation other than decapitation
(Harman et al. 1981: 185) and one at Guilden Morden, Cambridgeshire, laid face
down, whose arms were possibly bound behind his back (Lethbridge 1936: 117).
Of the three decapitation burials at the Guilden Morden Cemetery, this male was
the only one with his skull replaced in the correct anatomical position. In the other
two examples, both female, the skulls were placed by their lower legs (Lethbridge
1936: 117). The difference in the treatment of these skeletons, in the same
cemetery context, would lend credence to the theory that there are varying reasons
for decapitation. It should, however, be noted that recognition of this type of
decapitation depends on good skeletal preservation and detailed examination of the
remains (Philpott 1991: 77) and there may be many more, as yet undiscovered,
instances throughout Britain. These types of burials could easily have been missed,
particularly in cemeteries excavated in the earlier years and in cemeteries such as
that at Trentholme Drive, York, where earlier graves were disturbed by subsequent
burials.
222
9.3.4.2 Sacrificial
A sacrificial basis for the decapitation of individuals is proposed by some. Clarke
(1979), in particular, sees the decapitation burials at Lankhills Cemetery,
Winchester, as sacrificial on the basis of their association with military, rich, or
ritually unusual graves. All of the decapitations in this cemetery appear to have
been treated identically with the head being severed from the front and with the
first three cervical vertebrae being found with the cranium (MacDonald 1979:
415). This operation would have required a great deal of care and evidence
suggests that it would have been carried out after death. MacDonald proposes that
these bodies were then used for ritual purposes in connection with other burials.
There is some suggestion of a sacrificial basis, however it is unlikely that these
people would have been used for human sacrifice. Caesar tells us of the Gauls
offering of human sacrifices to propitiate the gods (Gallic Wars: vi.16) however,
Suetonius refers to Claudius abolishing this ‘savage and terrible Druidic cult’
(Claud: 25) and we have no written evidence for its existence among the Celts of
Britain. Referring back though to the prospect of ancient practices reappearing in
times of instability, this possibility cannot be discounted. MacDonald believes that
the victims at Lankhills were killed in a ritual of which decapitation formed a part
and that these victims were used as vicarious substitutes. The fact that these
decapitated bodies appear to have been buried in connection with other,
conventional, burials could also lead to the question of whether the rites were
performed after the original burial, possibly under a veil of secrecy. Again
possibly associated with some pre-Roman ancient rite observed by a minority
group.
The burials of the decapitated bodies of infants found at Springhead Temple IV in
Kent (ch. 6.6.3), commonly seen as foundation burials, should, I think, be viewed
in a different light to other decapitation burials. This temple had fourteen infants
buried within the temenos with two pairs of infants in the corners of the cella, one
of each pair being decapitated, possibly to confer strength on the building. These
are seen as foundation burials and may reflect a shrine dedicated to a healing
223
goddess associated with childbirth (Henig 1984: 24). Whether these decapitations
occurred as a deliberate sacrifice or whether what we see is the opportunistic use
of already deceased infants will never be known.
9.3.4.3 Transference of power
An aspect of the Romano-British decapitation rite which appears not to have been
addressed is the use to which the head may have been put after its removal from
the body. The archaeological evidence that we have simply shows that the head
was removed and that, at interment, it was very often placed in the grave in an
anomalous position. What happened to it, if anything, between the time of removal
and the burial is an archaeological unknown. The burial, in the Royston Road
Cemetery in Baldock, Hertfordshire, of a decapitated individual is a prime
example of the possibility of specific rites taking place. This adult inhumation, in a
wooden coffin, was in a grave wide enough for two coffins and had redeposited
chalk packed down either side. The decapitated head was evidently placed on top
of the coffin lid, at the same level as the top of the chalk. There is a suggestion that
this grave may have had a structure surrounding it which may have been designed
to permit a view of the grave’s contents (Burleigh et al. 2006: 287-288).
Anne Ross (1970: 121) sees the severed head as a symbol representative of pagan
Celtic religion with the human head possessing powers to protect and to provide.
The cult of the head and its importance and powers are continuing themes from
early prehistory in Britain (Ross 1967: 66) through to medieval legendary tales.
Classical writers emphasise the use, by the Celts, of the severed heads of defeated
enemies to both protect and invest the owner with power and esteem. Being highly
superstitious the Celts also saw the head as a valid offering to appease the gods
and bring about good fortune. Both Irish and Welsh folk tales of the early
medieval period, renowned for their use of legendary heroic acts, bring to the fore
older material with a new role to play. Stories of head-hunting are common (Ross
1970: 122) and the magical properties of the severed head are often identified.
These properties are at the forefront in the tale of Bran in the Mabinogion. The
224
head of Bran, removed from his body on his orders, remained alive and talking
after its removal from the body and foretold the adventures that would befall those
seven men that escaped after a battle with Irish Lords. The tales making up this
collection of the Mabinogion show glimpses of an earlier, more primitive social
code (Jones and Jones 1993: ix) and in a society reliant on the oral transmission of
history are likely to be based to a certain extent on fact. Throughout the Celtic
world, archaeology confirms the existence of a distinct attitude towards the head.
The discovery of human skulls in various contexts, including pits, wells and rivers,
and niches carved in temples to hold heads, such as that at the pre-Roman site of
Roquepertuse, near Marseilles, are testament to cult practices involving the heads
of certain deceased members of the community.
All of these cult practices show that the head was put to a specific use. This is
worth bearing in mind when considering the decapitation burials of Roman
Britain. Archaeology does not provide evidence of how much time elapsed
between death and burial or between decapitation and burial and we have no way
of knowing if the head in these burials was used for any specific purpose. The
possibility though should not be discounted. In the Celtic world the ownership and
the display of the head of a distinguished person imbued the owner with the power
of the dead person (Cunliffe 1997: 210). As we have seen the legendary powers of
the head and special rites associated with it transcended temporal boundaries and
the emergence of such rites during the Romano-British period would not be out of
the question. Celtic beliefs did not terminate with the arrival of the Romans. If
those individuals whose bodies were subjected to decapitation were of importance
in the community, or possessed some sought after quality, the use of the skull to
transfer those powers to another is feasible. The skull could have been used
ceremonially, possibly covertly, either as part of the burial process or as a separate
ritual act. An act designed as part of a transferral process or to propitiate the gods
and act as a talisman against bad luck. If the aim was to transfer the powers or
qualities of the deceased to another, the re-positioning of the head in the grave
away from its correct anatomical position would make sense. With the power
225
removed there would have been no necessity to replace the skull in its correct
position and the positioning by the lower part of the body could have held some
significance in itself. Although, in general, it was possession of the head which
imbued the holder with power in Celtic religion, the complexity and variability of
Celtic beliefs and practices combined with Romano-British influences and a
complex set of economic and political circumstances could have seen the rites
associated with the head vary considerably over time. Careful decapitation,
ceremonial use of the head and subsequent burial along with the body but not in
the correct anatomical position offers a realistic scenario.
9.3.5 Treatment of decapitated bodies
The theory that decapitation could be merely a final form of indignity inflicted on
an individual seems unlikely in that, in the majority of cases known, it appears that
the burial has been handled with care. What we must look at when investigating
these decapitation burials is, not only how and why decapitation occurred, but also
how the corpse was treated after death. The performance of a ritual after death
requires a degree of effort on someone’s part. In the case of the majority of these
burials this consisted of the careful positioning and burial of the head. Was that
effort expended for the good of the deceased or for the good of those still living?
The care taken in many of these burials is first evidenced in the provision, in many
cases, of a coffin. At the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester, of the seven
decapitation burials, only three were definitely buried without a coffin, two were
definitely in a coffin and in two cases there is uncertainty as to the provision of a
coffin. The three decapitation burials from Stanton Harcourt all provide evidence
of coffins and at Little Spittle, Ilchester, all four decapitation burials likewise,
provide evidence of burial in wooden coffins. Individual decapitation burials in the
south of Britain, particularly in the county of Dorset, provide greater evidence of
the care taken with the deceased. Burials at Fordington and Southfield House in
Dorchester and those at Kimmeridge, Studland and Todbere all provide evidence
of coffins. At Fordingbridge and Southfield House the coffins used were both
226
wooden, however, stone lined cists of Purbeck marble were the receptacles of the
bodies at Kimmeridge and Studland and a lead coffin was in evidence at Todbere.
There was evidence of the use of a lead coffin also for decapitation burials at
Abingdon and stone coffins at Lords Bridge and Pontefract. The overall evidence
points to the fact that the proportion of decapitation burials in coffins follows the
broader variation in coffin use within individual cemeteries (Philpott 1991: 81). In
contrast, at Driffield Terrace, York, the bodies were generally buried in shallow
grave cuts with evidence for the use of only four coffins in total (Ottaway 2005:
84).
Burial of decapitated individuals in coffins of material other than wood also tends
to follow regional variations. The use of Purbeck marble in the production of cist
graves would not be seen as unusual in the Dorset area, as there was an ample
supply of this stone available. This type of burial originated in the late Iron-Age
amongst the Durotrigian people and there is evidence that the use of these cists in
this area continued far beyond the Romano-British period (Philpott 1991: 66). It
was less frequently used than the usual, unlined earth or chalk cut cavity graves
(Whimster 1981: 43) but in this particular area it’s use was no doubt due to the
abundance of such stone. However, the fact that there was such an abundant
supply does not explain why a decapitated body would be consigned to such a
carefully constructed grave without good reason. The care with which most of
these cists were constructed implies, not only a desire to protect the grave from
disturbance, but also a mark of respect for the deceased (Philpott 1991: 65). It has
been suggested that the provision of carefully constructed graves and the possible
reverent treatment of the corpse may have been an indication of the social status of
the deceased. In Tainter’s discussion on social inference and mortuary practices he
surmises that the amount of energy expended in mortuary ceremonialism is the key
archaeological feature reflecting variations in prehistoric rank structure, that the
higher the status of the individual the more energy will be expended by a greater
number of people (Tainter 1975: 2). Applying this theory to the Romano-British
burials, we could say that many of the decapitation burials of this period, and
227
particularly the three individual burials from Dorset and the stone coffined burials
at Lord’s Bridge and Pontefract, are not of people from the lower end of the social
scale.
In the case of the Kimmeridge burial the cist comprised walls of Purbeck
limestone with a covering of two limestone slabs. The joint between these two
slabs was covered by a slab of Kimmeridge shale. The dimensions of the original
cist was approximately half an inch short for the burial of this woman prior to
decapitation yet adequate if the corpse was decapitated. In spite of this, two small
shale slabs were added to extend the length. This begs the question as to whether
the decapitation was decided on after the construction of the grave (Calkin 1947:
36). Also of interest in this burial is the fact that, as well as the severed head
having been placed by the ankles, the lower jaw had also been removed from the
skull. In a secondary burial in this grave, also that of a woman, although not
decapitated, the jaw had been treated in much the same way and was found close
to the knees. In Calkin’s report on the excavation he presents the fact that he was
only able to find three other instances of jaw removal, the best belonging to the
early Bronze-Age. An interesting parallel to this is the fact that of the almost three
hundred skulls recovered from the River Thames (ch. 9.3.3), only fourteen
mandibles have been found. The separation of the jaw bone from the rest of the
cranium could be an indication that the skull was possibly utilised in some ritual
for a greater length of time than normal allowing decomposition to result in this
detachment.
The graves of the three decapitated individuals from Dorset, at Todbere, Studland
and Kimmeridge, were all found to contain shale spindle-whorls. These artifacts
were also found associated with burials in the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester and
the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester. Graves containing spindle-whorls which
have been dated all appear to fall in the mid to late fourth century and so concur
with the dating of most decapitation burials. These two rites seem to have been
concurrent. Philpott (1991: 184) maintains that the southern group of spindle-
228
whorls appears to represent a largely native practice but makes mention of the fact
that spindle-whorls have been considered to be characteristic of Germanic and
Sarmatian burial practice. Clarke sees the provision of spindle-whorls in the graves
as one of the salient points of the furnishing of the group of intrusive burials in the
Lankhills Cemetery (Clarke 1979: 377). It is interesting to note the occurrence of
both decapitation burials and graves containing spindle-whorls at Lankhills, yet the
two are not found together. Conversely in the individual burials at Todbere,
Studland and Kimmeridge, we find both elements together. The presence of
spindle-whorls in the graves of decapitated individuals may be symbols of
occupation or status as sometimes suggested or, yet again, evidence of intrusive
foreign elements. In the decapitation burials at Kimmeridge and Studland the
spindle-whorl is the only item in the grave, as with the secondary burial at
Kimmeridge. This same phenomenon occurs in the three Poundbury decapitation
burials where elderly women are buried with only spindle-whorls as grave goods.
Apart from the fact that their heads have been removed the burials at Kimmeridge
and Studland do not appear to have been treated any differently to other burials in
the area. Similarly, the Todbere decapitation burial, apart from having a spindlewhorl in the grave, also showed evidence of hobnails, a common occurrence in
many Romano-British graves. Ultimately then, these particular decapitation burials
from the Dorset area display no evidence contrary to normal burial practices apart
from the removal of the head.
Decapitation burials have also been found with other types of grave goods, pottery
and glass vessels, personal ornaments, knives and, following the common thread
of Romano-British burials, several have been found with hobnails present in the
grave.
9.3.6 Secondary burials associated with decapitations
In some instances decapitation burials have been found in close association with a
secondary burial. At Kimmeridge, the remains of a second woman were found
buried on the top of the cist containing the elderly decapitated woman. In this
229
decapitation, not only had the skull been removed from the body but the mandible
had also been separated from the cranium. In the secondary burial the mandible
also was found in an anomalous position within the grave, in the region of the
knees. At Cowdery’s Down, Hampshire, the disarticulated remains of a second
female were discovered placed over the feet of the decapitated remains of a female
over the age of forty.
Clarke saw all of the decapitation burials at the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester as
associated with other graves, generally unusual or elaborate graves (Clarke 1979:
415). The decapitated individuals in these instances all appear to have had separate
graves and, although three were cut into the same initial grave cut, the majority
were scattered throughout the cemetery and were simply found in close proximity
to the elaborately furnished graves.
In an unusual case, a decapitated individual at the Racecourse Cemetery, Derby,
was buried covered by a layer of intentionally deposited charcoal, burnt soil and
calcined bone (fig. 9.9). This filling is believed to have come directly from a
cremation pyre (Wheeler 1985: 231), so possibly representing a second individual.
Fig. 9.9: Decapitated burial 261 Derby Racecourse Cemetery (From Wheeler 1985: 251)
230
9.3.7 Who were they?
What was it about these specific individuals that raised the necessity or the
requirement to decapitate them after death? Were they ‘special’ in life, were they
leaders, did they hold some elevated position in society, were they feared or did
they hold some real or imagined power over the community? Was decapitation a
form of reverence or a measure designed to control the powers of the deceased?
Once again speculation abounds but, by carefully assessing the evidence, we are
able to propose theories – theories that, with each further discovery, will alter,
either subtly or significantly.
With the exception of the Driffield Terrace site in York, the communities in which
we find decapitations, or variations on the treatment of the head, occurring are
varied and do not appear to be confined to those of any particular type of society.
These burials are seen to occur individually and in both small and large
communities. We have seen that most of these people have been buried with some
degree of care, in many cases in situations which could predispose us to consider
that their position in the society of which they were a part was elevated. They have
been buried according to a specific ritual and time and care has been taken with
their interment. In many cases they have been provided with coffins, including
those of stone and lead, and their body and head have been carefully placed within
the coffin. Either the community as a whole or the family of the deceased has
expended effort and attention in the treatment of the corpse. Unfortunately we
have no way of knowing if any particular ritual ceremony was performed in
conjunction with the burial. The status of the individual in the community is
difficult to establish. Those who were provided with coffins, particularly those
which would have been more expensive such as lead or lead lined, could possibly
be construed as being from the upper levels of society but this is by no means a
foregone conclusion. The determination of social status through mortuary
archaeology is notoriously difficult in general and certainly no easier with
decapitation burials. Although the possibility of members of the lower classes
being in a position to warrant this special treatment cannot be discounted
231
completely, the likelihood would seem remote. This does not eliminate however,
the fact that we find decapitation burials in cemeteries of obviously differing levels
of society. In urban situations where there is an obvious affluence and in rural and
isolated instances where the standard of living appears to be inferior. Of fourteen
graves discovered at Deansway, Worcester, two of the bodies were decapitated. At
Mundford, Norfolk, two of the seven inhumations were of decapitated individuals
while at Charlton, Somerset, a Romano-British quarrying community, two of the
fifteen bodies discovered had their heads removed and placed by their feet. Roman
remains discovered at Long Sutton, Somerset consisted of two cremated and two
inhumed individuals. The inhumations were both of decapitated bodies with the
skull of one by the pelvis and the other between the legs. We also find decapitation
burials in most of the larger cemeteries including Poundbury, Lankhills, the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London and the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester and
of the sixty-one inhumations at the Racecourse Cemetery, Derby, five were of
decapitated individuals. There is a distinct possibility that every community may
have had someone whose burial included decapitation, whose powers or influence
required transference at death. Our inability, in the majority of cases, to excavate
Romano-British cemeteries in their entirety quite possibly accounting for the
absence of decapitations in some.
Fig. 9.10: Burial B733 Eastern Cemetery of Roman London with the cranium displaced but the
mandible remaining in situ (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 317)
232
9.3.8 Discussion of decapitation burials
Interpretations as to the reasoning behind decapitation during the Romano-British
period can be seen to be many and varied, from superstition to academically
justifiable conclusions. Some maintain that the removal of the head was to prevent
the dead from talking and haunting the living, that the incidence of elderly female
decapitation with, in many cases, evidence of arthritis, implies the possibility of
the rite curbing the influence of witches. In the case of the Kimmeridge burial,
Calkin saw the removal of the mandible as necessary to prevent communication
from this elderly lady after death. Speculation abounds on the incidence of cult
activity involving Celtic as well as Roman religious rites. Sacrificial grounds are
advanced on the basis of giving the gods vicarious substitutes in death for men
about to go into mortal danger or as celebrating a victory and thanking the gods
(MacDonald 1979: 415). As plausible as many of these theories are they will
always remain supposition. What we can be certain of though is that not all
decapitations were carried out for the same purpose. The careful manner in which
the head was removed and the reverent method of burial, in most instances, is in
complete contrast to the obviously violent manner in which those, for example,
from the Driffield Terrace site met their death.
What is necessary in any archaeological enquiry is a systematic study of a large
sample, a luxury simply not available in the case of decapitation burials of the
Romano-British period at this time. The number of decapitation burials as a
percentage of the total excavated burials of the Romano-British period is very low.
In some cemeteries there are no decapitations discovered at all. In others, such as
the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, excavated in the mid-twentieth century in York,
the state of preservation of much of the skeletal remains was such that it would
have been impossible to say with any certainty whether there were any
decapitations or not. The accident of survival extends to all types of burial as does
the accident of discovery. Excavations carried out by the Oxford Archaeology Unit
in early 2001, in advance of the construction of a new chemistry building in
Oxford revealed a single inhumation. The skeleton was that of a well-built man of
233
at least fifty years of age who had been decapitated. His skull had been placed
between his ankles and a largely complete late third to fourth century Oxford
Whiteware jar had been placed where the head would have been. The fifth and
sixth cervical vertebrae had been removed from the body and were missing from
the grave. The discovery of the relatively large number of decapitations at
Driffield Terrace, York recently, also unexpected, is a two-fold bonus for these
studies. It has provided an increased number of instances of decapitation available
for study and, possibly more importantly, it has shown how one discovery is able
to make us question our previously held hypotheses and reassess earlier
discoveries.
Jones (1987: 831) states that Roman civilisation had its own barbarities, no less
than others, implying that the practice of decapitation was one of these barbarities.
But, in the society of which it was a part, was it? From the viewpoint of the
western world of the twenty-first century decapitation is undoubtedly an inhumane
and savage act, and even the removal of the head after death is abhorrent. But,
from the evidence of many of these carefully laid out burials we must question
whether this was the perspective of our ‘Roman’ ancestors.
9.4 Violence
The extent of violence in the Romano-British community is extremely difficult to
determine. Evidence normally consists of only those physically violent acts which
are severe enough to leave marks on the bone, and speculation as to their cause is
problematical. Occasionally the unusual treatment of the body or its positioning
within the grave is enough to make us question the circumstances, however the
instances of this are rare. As we have just seen some of the decapitated bodies
show evidence of violence.
The major cemeteries vary as to the incidence of wounds evident on the skeletons.
This is due in part to the variability in survival and preservation of the bone but
also, in no small part, to the differences in the composition of the communities we
234
are looking at. There are those that are seen as military communities, believed to
be comprised primarily of soldiers or veterans. In the cemeteries associated with
these communities we would expect to see a higher incidence of bone trauma. At
the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, this is particularly evident. Many fractures of the
limb bones were evident with one fracture being associated with an open wound,
possibly the result of a violent attack with a sword or spear. There is evidence also
in this cemetery of pathologies of the bone that could have been caused by incised
injuries deep enough to reach the bone. Although these cannot be proved to have
been the result of violent actions, it is highly likely that some were associated with
military activity (Wenham 1968: 151). The general belief regarding this cemetery
is that it contained the remains of a community that had lived a physically
demanding life and probably included a substantial number of soldiers or veterans.
At the Driffield Terrace site, also in York, along with the large numbers of
decapitations there are a significant number of skeletons displaying evidence of
other acts of violence. These include stabbing wounds severe enough to have
penetrated to the bone, cuts to the femur and ulna, in one case severe enough to
have sliced through the major muscles of the leg, and blunt force trauma to the
crania (Tucker: forthcoming). Similarly, the cemetery at Cirencester, believed to
include a significant proportion of the community with military associations,
provides evidence of a number of skeletons with injuries that could have been
caused in a violent manner. Incised wounds to the skull are evident on a number of
occasions with one appearing to have been caused by an arrow-head or lance in
flight and another likely to have been caused by a sharp sword or dagger thrust. A
severe gash to the skull of another man, as well as incising the bone, fractured it,
depressing a triangular area which is likely to have caused neurological after
effects (fig. 5.4). Wounds are apparent on two skeletons that would have happened
around the time of death, with one being serious enough to have been the cause of
death. A wound on the humerus of one individual, probably caused by a sword,
would almost certainly have severed the brachial artery, the main blood supply to
the upper limb, in all likelihood causing a rapid death. There are also several
235
skeletons in this cemetery with wounds that were probably caused by blunt
instruments. Depressed fractures to the skull could have been caused in battle but
could equally have been the result of blows to the head with a blunt instrument,
either accidental or intentional. Once again the appearance of a relatively large
number of injuries in this cemetery population can be seen as an indication of
wounds sustained in a military environment (McWhirr et al. 1982: 171). One
multiple grave in this cemetery is of particular interest (fig 9.11). Four bodies were
interred and the arrangement of the bones suggests simultaneous burial without a
coffin (McWhirr et al. 1982: 86). Two of those buried had been decapitated in a
violent manner, with one of these skeletons also showing evidence of several
broken bones. Although there is no evidence of violence on the two skeletons that
had not been decapitated the manner of their burial would seem to imply that they
had probably died in an unnatural manner.
Fig. 9.11: Multiple burial at Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester with burials 215 and 216 being
decapitated (From McWhirr et al. 1982: 86)
236
In contrast to these cemeteries with probable military associations, the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London shows little evidence of aggression. There were a few
parry fractures and a few cases of depression fractures to the skull but it is believed
that this community was not heavily involved in activity of a violent nature
(Barber and Bowsher 2000: 285). Fractures of the limbs in the population of the
Poundbury Cemetery were also relatively uncommon, while the incidence of
fractured ribs appears quite high, however, it was concluded that most would have
been the result of occupational or accidental occurrences. As with the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London, the community of which the Poundbury cemetery
was a part is also believed not to have indulged in warfare and appears to have
been relatively peaceful (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 203).
Other possible instances of death and injury through warfare and violence
occasionally come to light. Many Romano-British burials discovered along with
Anglo-Saxon burials in a cemetery at Wasperton, Warwickshire were found to
have been mutilated (SMR no: 5503), suggesting either death in battle or violence
inflicted as punishment. Eight burials of Romano-British males aged between 2040 years discovered in Whittlesey, Fenland, Cambridgeshire (SMR no: 03151)
were also found to have been mutilated before burial and could also have been
casualties of battle or victims of capital punishment.
The discovery of discrete examples of violence, rather than groups having been
subjected to acts of aggression, are rare but do occur. The skeleton of a woman
discovered at the Queenford Farm Cemetery, showed evidence that she had almost
certainly died as a result of three blows from a blade penetrating the skull (Harman
et al. 1978: 6). The burial of a family group in Canterbury, possibly a late
Romano-British ritual burial, includes the skeleton of a child who may have died
as a result of a blow to the head (SMR No: TR 15 NW635). A woman over fifty
years of age deliberately buried in a drainage ditch in the late second or early third
century in Bourne, Lincolnshire, appears to have been killed by a deliberate blow
237
to the head (SMR No: 34120). Her ankles were crossed which may indicate that
her feet were bound and complete vessels appear to have been smashed over the
body. The fact that this was an elderly lady with evidence of osteoporosis could
place her in the same section of the community as some of the decapitated
individuals who are sometimes defined as witches. The binding of her feet could
indicate an attempt to prevent her from walking in death and haunting the living. A
male between the ages of 25 and 35 found in the Clarence Street Cemetery,
Leicester is also believed to have died as a result of violence. A hole in his skull,
made by a tapering weapon or tool is almost certain to have been the cause of
death (Gardner 2005: 66). The remains of a man and a woman found buried in the
corner of Turret 38b on Hadrian’s Wall could also be an indication of foul play.
Although there is no evidence of violence, burial in such a place was against
Roman law. However, this turret is believed to have been abandoned during the
Roman period so this could simply be the remains of itinerants or travellers buried
by other members of the group in the only convenient place available.
Osteological analysis of human remains belonging to a mature adult male,
discovered in an inhumation burial at Blue Bridge Lane, York, noted cut marks on
the cervical vertebrae. The head, although found in the correct anatomical position,
may have been partially or completely severed from the body in what was believed
to
have
been
a
deliberate
act
of
violence
and
traumatic
death
(www.archaeologicalplanningconsultancy.co.uk/mono). This could be seen as a
deliberate decapitation as with the Bath Gate decapitations or it could have been a
single act of aggression.
One of the most intriguing instances of violence is that of the mutilated human
skull found from the Roman period at St Albans, Hertfordshire (Mays and Steele
1996). This skull, believed to belong to a young man of between 15-18 years of
age, was found in a second century AD pit along with the remains of a young dog
and an iron knife. This skull had sustained blows resulting in perforations which
had not healed implying that the injuries were caused around the time of death.
238
The unusual characteristic of this skull is the numerous cut marks in evidence. At
least 90 fine cut marks, appearing to have been made by a fine-bladed knife,
appear on the outer surface of the cranial vault. These marks are indicative of
either de-fleshing of the skull or scalping. In the first instance the skull is the
valued object whilst in the second it is the scalp that is of value (Mays and Steele
1996: 158). The St Albans Skull is viewed as having been de-fleshed rather than
scalped. Bearing in mind the previous discussion on decapitation, and its possible
relationship to the Celtic Cult of the Head (ch. 9.3.3), this could be further
evidence of the use of the head for symbolic and ritual purposes. The appearance
of the head wounds, and the possibility of them being influential in the death of
this individual, could lead to the acceptability of a hypothesis regarding a
sacrificial or at least deliberate death of this young man.
An act of what has generally been considered to be ritual violence is superbly
recorded for us by the survival of the well known ‘bog body’ known as Lindow
Man (fig. 9.12). This man’s remains were discovered, uniquely preserved, in the
peat bogs at Lindow Moss, Cheshire, and have been radiocarbon dated to the late
first to second century AD. The dating of this corpse though is a matter of
contention with dates of his death ranging from the fifth century BC through to the
late Roman period and even post-Roman. Dates in the Roman era were discounted
on several occasions as the rite of sacrifice was illegal during this period and the
Iron-Age was seen as more likely to have yielded rites pertaining to human
sacrifice. The state of preservation of this man is such that we are able to discern,
not only his physical attributes, but also the state of his fingernails, what he ate for
his last meal and the fact that he suffered from internal parasites. His well
preserved body was discovered in 1984 while workmen were cutting peat and it
would seem, from his injuries, that he suffered a violent death. Proponents of the
theory of sacrificial killing cite an apparent triple assault on the man. He had been
struck twice with a blunt instrument, once on the top of his head and again at the
base of the skull. He then appears to have been garrotted with a small rope made
from animal sinew, which was twisted with a stick with two of the vertebrae in his
239
neck being broken. Finally, it seems his throat was cut, with the possibility that the
action of garrotting would have accentuated blood loss from the jugular vein. He
also had a broken rib, which was possibly caused by the knee of one of his killers
as the garrotte was applied. This theory has been questioned (Hutton 2004) with
the possibilities of the garrotte having had an ornamental purpose and the gash to
the throat being the result of post burial disturbance being put forward. However,
the reality is that regardless of the reasons behind his death this man was the
victim of several violent acts which resulted in his death.
The burial of this man in such a manner to enable this type of preservation allows
us to speculate as to his identity. He had his hair, beard and moustache recently
trimmed with scissors or shears and well manicured fingernails. Scissors were
introduced into Britain by the Romans and even shears were rare in the late IronAge and may have been reserved for the privileged few. The contents of his
stomach indicate that his last meal was composed of cereals – emmer and spelt
(primitive forms of wheat) and barley, possibly in the form of unleaven bread. His
stomach also contained traces of mistletoe. Mistletoe was used medicinally in
antiquity but Pliny also wrote that mistletoe had a religious significance for the
Druids (Stead et al. 1986). This possible association with cult activity combined
with the apparent ‘overkill’ has led to the interpretation of this man as conceivably
a sacrificial victim. The fact that few soils preserve as well as the peat, with some
being extremely destructive, means that evidence of such ritual acts rarely come to
light. The discovery of the Lindow Man though was by no means the first such
discovery from Britain. Over fifty sites have produced evidence of eighty-five
individuals discovered throughout the last few centuries (Stead et al. 1986: 148),
dating from the Neolithic through to the post-medieval period. Between 2-4 are
believed to belong to the Roman period (Stead et al. 1986: 149). Whether the
people involved in the Lindow Man’s death and burial knew of the preservative
tendencies of peat or whether, for us, it was a lucky coincidence is conjecture, but
the survival of his remains provides valuable evidence that such ritual deaths did
occur.
240
Fig. 9.12: Lindow Man (From Stead et al. 1986: 45)
The mortuary evidence for acts of violence in Roman Britain is extremely rare
given the estimated size of the population. Interpretation of this evidence can at
best provide thought-provoking scenarios. However, even allowing for the paucity
of material available on which to base our discussion, the evidence is sufficient to
suggest that Romano-British communities saw their fair share of brutality and
violence. Rib fractures, broken noses and depressed skull fractures would seem to
indicate pub type brawling while evidence of attacks by swords and other sharp
weapons can be indicative of more serious attacks. Evidence for apparent ritual
acts of violence can lead to theories regarding sacrifice and propitiation of the gods
while the reasons behind such acts are likely to remain conjectural.
9.5 Prone burials
A type of burial in the Romano-British period for which no satisfactory
explanation is available is that of prone burials, those where the bodies are laid
face down. The majority of skeletons discovered dating to the Romano-British
period are in a uniformly supine position, that is, buried on their back with their
legs extended. A variety of arm positions are found with the most common being
241
by the sides or folded diagonally across the body. Occasionally instances of
crouched burial or those laid on their sides come to light and in some cemeteries
there are instances of a small number of individuals buried lying prone, that is, on
their front. These bodies, generally, show no evidence of violence or other
distinguishing characteristics.
Philpott characterises prone burials as belonging to four main groups. There are
those where signs of coercion are present, those exhibiting signs of carelessness,
there are simultaneous double burials where the upper body has been placed face
down on top of the lower body and there are those buried in a more formal manner
(Philpott 1991: 72).
The incidence of prone burial is very small in all cemeteries, ranging from less
than 1% (7 cases) at the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester to around 8% (33 cases)
at the Bath Gate Cemetery, Cirencester. At the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester,
there were 12 instances of prone burial, out of a total of over 400 burials, with the
majority (8) dated to the late 4th to early 5th century. There appears to be no
distinction made, in general, between male and female prone burials. At the
Poundbury Cemetery, children and adults of both sexes were included however at
the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London, of the 14 prone burials, 60% were of
females compared to the overall figure of 28.2% female occupation in the
cemetery. Of the 164 excavated graves at the Queenford Farm site, Dorchester-onThames only one individual was buried in a prone position, this was a child of 910 years old.
An anomaly in regard to the low numbers of prone burials usually discovered in
cemetery areas was the discovery of twelve skeletons at Lambourn, West
Berkshire (SMR No: WB3132 – 01301.02.910). The graves were parallel to each
other and evenly spaced, all contained male skeletons and nearly all were buried
face down. In addition there was one decapitated individual and one additional
skull.
242
The positioning in the cemetery of these prone burials is also of some interest.
Although Philpott finds that many of these burials are located on the edge of
formal cemetery areas (Philpott 1991: 73) this is not always the case. At the
Poundbury Cemetery, although it has been suggested that one prone burial found
in a pipeline trench as an outlier to the late Roman cemetery was an ‘outcast
(Philpott 1991: 73), the five prone burials in the Eastern Peripheral group were
positioned amongst other burials and on the same basic alignment. At the Bath
Gate Cemetery, Cirencester all such burials were amongst the general cemetery
population.
It cannot be said either that these burials were of the impoverished. At Poundbury,
four of the seven prone burials contained grave goods; burial 1401, two early
fourth century pottery vessels by the right lower leg, burial W123 196, an iron pin,
while burials 388 and 574 contained jewellery. These two burials of women, one
in her mid teens the other in her mid twenties were from the Eastern Peripheral
group. Of the 89 graves excavated in this part of the cemetery only these two
contained necklaces. Such ornaments were not a common category of grave goods
in late Roman cemeteries (Guido and Mills 1993: 102) and only five instances in
total were discovered in the Poundbury Cemetery. In the grave of the teenage girl,
37 cylindrical and faceted jet beads and 16 small globular blue glass beads were
found, the necklace of the woman in her twenties was comprised of 39 cylindrical
jet beads with a copper alloy clasp. Both had evidence of hobnails, implying they
were buried with some form of footwear and the grave of the elder of the two also
contained chicken bones and the skull of a dog. At the Bath Gate Cemetery only
fifteen graves produced evidence of any form of grave goods (McWhirr et al.
1982: 128-132). Of these only one was of a prone burial but this was by far the
richest grave discovered in the cemetery (McWhirr et al. 1982: 128). This burial
was that of a child (discussed above) and contained bone bracelets and a silver
clasped necklace comprised of beads of an ‘intrusive’ nature (McWhirr et al. 1982:
132). At Lankhills, six of the twelve prone burials contained evidence for grave
243
goods, three contained coins, two, small iron objects and two, double-sided bone
combs. This particular type of comb was found in only thirteen (around 3%) of the
Lankhills graves.
In contrast, there are occasions of prone burials with indications of violence or
restraint being used. One of the prone burials in the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London had large blocks of stone on her back while another appears to have had
her hands tied behind her back (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 87). At the Butt Road
Cemetery, Cochester two bodies buried in a prone position appear to have been
bound at the wrists, and in Colchester the bodies of two men in a prone position
seem to have been ‘tossed’ into the same grave (McWhirr et al. 1982: 78).
Although the number of instances of prone burials under discussion is relatively
small, the deposition of grave goods, the burial of some in coffins and the basic
treatment of the body implies that these individuals were not treated
unconventionally in burial apart from the positioning of their bodies, somewhat
similar to the decapitation burials.
The reasoning behind the prone burials is difficult to determine. Were they
accidentally or deliberately buried this way? It is likely that we have evidence here
of both. There is the possibility that in the case of burial in a coffin, the coffin
could have been buried upside down, or a shrouded corpse could have been
mistakenly laid, a careless mistake and lack of attention being involved. In some
instances though the burial in a prone position appears to have been deliberate. It
has been suggested that the onset of rigor mortis may have been responsible in
some cases for the inability to lay out the corpse or that, as in the case of
decapitated individuals there was an attempt to prevent the dead from walking
(Philpott 1991: 73). In some cases the deceased could have been deliberately
mistreated, particularly those that may have been criminals or outcasts, the unusual
burial designed to bring dishonour. The burial of a congenitally-deaf child in the
Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester, could be due to the nature of the child’s
244
handicap. At the Racecourse Cemetery, Derby, nine prone burials (out of a total of
69 inhumations displayed evidence of careless burial, the unnatural and acute
angles of the limbs of most suggesting that the process of decay had set in before
burial (Wheeler 1985: 242).
The association of decapitation and prone burials in cemeteries could also bear
some relevance. This association was noted by Harman, Molleson and Price
(1981), when they ascertained that instances of prone burial and decapitation
occurred in the same cemetery on several occasions. At the Cassington Cemetery,
of the seventy-one burials, sixteen had been decapitated and fourteen buried prone
with seven of the decapitated individuals buried prone (Harman et al. 1981: 161).
The low instance of prone burials at the Poundbury Cemetery, is associated with
only two sure instances of decapitation. At the Lankhills Cemetery where we find
twelve prone burials there were also seven decapitation burials, with one of the
decapitated individuals being buried prone. One of the three bodies buried prone at
the Roman Cemetry at Stanton Harcourt (out of a total of 34 excavated),
Oxfordshire, was also decapitated. At Cirencester also we have both prone (33)
and decapitation (6) burials whereas at the Queenford Farm site where we find
only one prone burial there were no instances of decapitations.
The characteristics of both prone and decapitation burials are so diverse as to make
any association between them extremely conjectural. As has been discussed, the
majority of decapitated individuals were treated with care and respect during the
burial process. The unknown factor with the prone burials is whether burial in a
prone position was a case of carelessness, indifference or designed to insult and
bring disgrace upon the deceased. Although not impossible, it would seem highly
unlikely that we could account for these burials as being of ‘special’ people, as
could conceivably be the case with the majority of decapitation burials.
245
PART 5:
LIFESTYLE CONSIDERATIONS
246
CHAPTER 10: OCCUPATIONS:
As determined from grave evidence
________________________________________________________________
10.1 Introduction
Many of the occupations of the Romano-Britons, as with any other ancient society,
are evidenced through the physical remains of these societies combined with
plausible inferences that we may make. The erection of public and private
buildings and fortifications and the establishment and maintenance of public
utilities would have necessitated a large workforce. Engineers and architects,
stonemasons, carpenters, roof tilers and road builders would have been
indispensable. Evidence of an active trading economy and extensive waterfronts
presupposes sailors, traders and merchants and those involved in the transportation
industry. Activities associated with mineral extraction, mass production and craft
specialisation would have occupied many, while administrative duties, necessary
in corporate activity and government, would have employed others. The essential
and most widespread activity though would have been in the field of agriculture
with farmers and their families making up the vast bulk of the population.
The use of mortuary archaeology in isolation in investigating the occupations of
individuals is a highly uncertain science. It would be nice to be able to say that an
analysis of the physical remains of a population has the potential to identify the
lifestyle and occupation of many of the people. We have the remains of the group
of people discovered on the ancient beach front at Herculaneum which has
provided evidence for the likely existence of a fisherman, a soldier and a slavegirl. These remains were from a high profile site and well preserved. We are not so
fortunate with the majority of Romano-British skeletons and, in reality, the results
afforded by this type of investigation are never likely to be more than inferences.
An investigation of the published reports of cemeteries and a search of local
databases reveals few instances where the occupational activities of individuals
can even be guessed at let alone stated with any certainty.
247
There are specific occasions however when epigraphic evidence, skeletal analysis
or the presence of specific items in the grave, provide an opportunity for us to
draw some conclusions regarding the occupations of these people.
10.2 Skeletal evidence
Individuals occupied in specialist tasks long enough for there to have been related
over-development of certain muscles and for associated injuries to lead to
degenerative arthritis in specific joints (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 199) can
sometimes be identified in a cemetery population. The most fundamental
occupation in Roman Britain was agriculture and specific pathologies on some
skeletons, could be indicative of agricultural based occupations. In plot 3 at the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London there was a high incidence of bony changes
consistent with a repeated controlled sweeping movement of the arm such as that
in sweeping or scything (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 315). At the fourth century
farmstead at Bradley Hill, Somerset, the males were muscular and even the
females were considered well-built (Leech 1981: 225). This type of evidence
indicating hard manual labour could be attributed to farming activities, however,
labouring of a general kind such as is necessary in any community could be
equally responsible. The skeleton of a person aged between 30-40 years
discovered at Chesterton, Huntingdonshire, shows more developed musculature
and extra ossification. Osteoarthritic evidence from the upper body also indicates
regular and strenuous use of this part of the body with relatively little use of the
lower limbs, probably due to some form of sedentary manual labour (SMR No.
07669). Five late Roman inhumations found in Canterbury display evidence of
back, elbow and ankle strain, indicative of a harsh lifestyle (SMR No. TR 15 NW
625). Evidence of a strenuous life is found in the skeleton of a young man from
Chartham, Kent (SMR No. TR 15 SW 61), while pathologies associated with the
skeletal remains of thirty two men and women from a Roman cemetery at Jesus
Lane, Cambridge, are also seen as associated with heavy work (SMR No.
CB15727). The age distribution, gender and stature of the population of the
Driffield Terrace cemetery site, York may indicate that they are military personnel,
248
and skeletal evidence suggests a strenuous lifestyle. The much higher than average
presence of Schmorl’s nodes on the vertebrae (85% of surviving vertebrae
compared to the cumulative total from other Romano-British populations of 8.9%)
is indicative of stress and strain on the back from such activities as repeated
bending and lifting (Tucker: forthcoming). Instances of degenerative joint disease
are much more frequent than in the average Romano-British cemetery population
and evidence of activities involving repeated rotation and elevation of the arm is
also apparent (Tucker: forthcoming).
The population of the Poundbury Cemetery shows little evidence of arthritic
changes related to the carrying of heavy loads (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 201).
In this cemetery it was concluded that the frequency of osteoarthrosis in the spine
suggested that men were involved in dragging and lifting activities while women
carried loads from the arms. These results are consistent with an agriculturally
based community in which women were involved in domestic occupations and
men in production and labour (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 202). Repeated stress
injury was also seen in four or five individuals with damage to the cartilage of the
knee joints. The resulting effects on the femur, tibia and patella are attributed to
some activity involving a treadmill action or pedalling with both legs (Molleson
1992: 54).
At Poundbury, there appear to have been clearly defined areas of occupation for
men and women. In contrast, in the community represented by the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London, rather than seeing a gender based distinction, it is
possible to identify signs of repetitive activity distinctive to one group compared to
another (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 291). There is evidence for distinctions being
made between alignment groups and those buried in the different plots. The eastwest burials produce evidence indicating some activity that necessitated traversing
rough ground whereas north-south burials display skeletal changes possibly
relating to horse riding or an activity requiring similar movements (Barber and
Bowsher 2000: 291). Those buried in plot 3 display enthesopathies related to the
249
sweeping movements discussed above while the skeletons of those buried in plot 2
show evidence of horse-riding or a similar activity (Barber and Bowsher 2000:
294-295).
Squatting facets on the tibia and talus, related to a repeated squatting posture are a
common find in most ancient cemetery populations. Although possibly related to
the dearth of furniture, they may also be one of the occupational hazards
associated with the grinding of corn (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 200). Of those
with recorded instances, the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London produced around
10% of the population with these facets (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 285) while at
Poundbury they are found in 32% of the women and 12% of the men (Farwell and
Molleson 1993: 200). At Cirencester, where admittedly the defective condition of
the bone made assessment difficult, only three of the fifteen tibia examined
showed evidence of these facets and at the Queenford Farm Cemetery no instances
of squatting facets were recorded in the skeletal details of those interred
(Chambers 1987: 46-53).
There is evidence on some Romano-British skeletons of activities which could be
occupation related but could equally be related to recreational pursuits. These
include evidence for the use of slings and horse riding. The dual functions of the
powerful deltoid muscle that is developed by slinging produces a strong lateral
curvature of the humerus and rough nodosities on its surface together with a
splitting of the deltoid insertion eminence into two parts (Wells 1964: 134). The
deltoid eminence of the left humerus of the decapitated elderly woman from
Kimmeridge in Dorset clearly shows the division into anterior and posterior ridges
(Calkin 1947: 40). This woman’s femur also presents muscular markings which
are abnormally pronounced for a female. The shaft is slightly bowed indicating
that she was a frequent horse rider, while the greatly enlarged gluteal ridge is
suggestive of those in swift running animals, indicating that this woman was of an
athletic nature. Swift movement of the limb is also indicated with the presence of a
deeper than normal groove on the lower end of the femur where it meets the
250
kneecap (Calkin 1947: 39-40). The overall impression of this woman is that she
was an extremely active person, skilled in running, horse riding and the use of the
sling. The skeleton of a second female buried in this grave also exhibits evidence
of a bowed femur attributed to horse riding as does that of a young adult,
apparently casually deposited in a quarry at Chartham, Kent (SMR No. TR 15 SW
61).
The athleticism of the Britons is a notable inclusion in Caesar’s account of his
invasion. Their ‘daily training and practice’ resulting in a pronounced athletic
ability left an impression on him (Gallic Wars: iv.33). Tacitus acknowledges the
part played by Boudicca in the rebellion and has her as an integral part of the
fighting (Ann. xiv. 34). The similarities between the portrayal of this British leader
and her abilities on the field of battle and the evidence of the athletic status of the
woman buried at Kimmeridge may lead us to wonder if there were more women
involved in those pursuits normally considered to be the domain of the male.
Excavations at both the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London and the Poundbury
Cemetery, Dorchester have provided evidence for the likelihood of horse riders in
the communities. Those buried in plot 2 in the London cemetery show such
evidence while the report from the Poundbury Cemetery (Farwell and Molleson
1993: 200) shows that in this population, the skeletons of 17 out of 253 males but
only one out of 342 females exhibit evidence of three specific criteria used to
identify habitual horse riders. Riding for pleasure or work was part of the lifestyle
of these individuals and shoulder, leg, ankle and elbow injuries show that several
must have fallen from their mounts at some time.
10.3 Grave goods
As well as skeletal indicators there are also occasions when we are able to deduce
something of the occupations of those interred from the presence of specific items
in the grave, some more reliable than others.
251
The most obvious occupations in Britain during the period of Roman rule would
be those attached to the military. We have ample evidence of equipment such as
belt buckles and plates placed in graves, suggesting a connection of the deceased
to some form of army employment. However, definitive proof of a military rather
than an official association is lacking and we can only make inferences regarding
such associations. Clarke (1979: 264-291) discusses the association of belt fittings
with the position in society of the wearer and concludes that they could equally be
associated with high status civilian wear as with military. Most graves discovered
with belt fittings date to the later Romano-British period with few examples predating the fourth century (Philpott 1991: 187). The discovery, in 1975, of a cist
grave at Camelon, Stirlingshire, containing the remains of two males, along with a
sword, shield-boss, spearheads and a possible belt-fitting, however, is considered
to date to sometime in the mid-first century. Although the dating of the weapons
has provided some problems, making it difficult to place them in a definite native
or Roman context, it is generally concluded that these graves are likely to contain
the burials of two Roman soldiers (Breeze et al. 1976:). The presence of military
style bronze belt fittings and a sheathed iron blade at the second century
Racecourse Cemetery, Derby, also suggest that three burials there may be of
soldiers (Wheeler 1985: 228). Considering continental parallels and the association
of some of the fittings with other indications of military association, many of the
belts and belt fittings discovered at Lankhills are considered to have been worn by
soldiers (Clarke 1979: 264-291). A belt assemblage from a grave at the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London, belonging to the same basic type as those found at
Lankhills, may be of a military nature but this is not a certainty (Barber and
Bowsher 2000: 208). An iron shield-boss was the only item of a military nature
found in a burial context at the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, York (Wenham 1968:
38) while at the Driffield Terrace site there was little in the way of gravegoods and
nothing of a military nature (Tucker 2007: Pers. Comm.).
The only known surgical kit found from Roman Britain was discovered with the
cremated remains of an individual at Stanway, near Colchester (fig 10.1). This
252
‘doctor’s’ grave contained medical instruments including a set of rods with blunt
blades, rings with leather loops, scalpels, forceps, hooks, needles and a small saw
(Taylor 2001: 96).
Fig. 10.1: Medical instruments from the doctor’s grave at Stanway
(From Colchester Archaeological Trust website)
A less certain case of occupational evidence involves the assignment of the term
‘female gladiator’ to a woman whose cremated remains were discovered in the
Romano-British cemetery on Watling Street, in Southwark, London. This bustum
burial included an array of grave goods which included a lamp that depicts a fallen
gladiator (Mackinder 2000: 33). The array of goods deposited with this burial (fig.
10.2), including several lamps, tazze - vessels with distinctive frilled rims, used
possibly as incense burners, large glass fragments and traces of gold thread, lends
credence to the idea that this woman may have been of some significance in the
community. Three of the lamps in the grave depict Anubis, the Egyptian god of
judgement who controlled entry to the underworld. The Jackal-headed god was the
nephew of the goddess Isis and in Graeco-Roman mythology was equated with
Hermes/Mercury, the conductor of souls (Mackinder 2000: 28). The cult of Isis
was a mystery religion with the underlying mythology involving death and rebirth
and in Britain temples to both Isis and her husband Sarapis have been recorded
(Green 2003: 23). The cult of Isis was of particular appeal to women and evidence
for the existence of the cult in London has been documented (Mackinder 2000:
28). The charred plant assemblages recovered from this gravesite are also of
relevance when viewing the life of this woman. It is obvious that a very specific
ritual was enacted involving not only the grave goods but also an unusual array of
253
Fig. 10.2: Tazze and lamps recovered from the bustum burial in the Watling Street Cemetery. The
fallen gladiator lamp can be seen front row, third from the right (From Mackinder 2000: 13)
plants. The remains include pine cones and pine nuts, dates, figs and almonds,
chicken and another small bird. This could be the remains of an elaborate meal
placed with the body on the pyre (Mackinder 2000: 12). The nature of these items,
not grown in Britain, along with the associations with the eastern cult of Isis and
the gladiator lamp, allow us to speculate as to the likelihood of this woman
originating from the east. Although the identity of this woman as a gladiatrix is
not generally accepted (Mattingly 2006: 301) the possibility cannot be totally
discounted. Tacitus tells us of distinguished women fighting in the arena for Nero
(Tac. Ann. 15.32) and Domitian had women taking part in gladiatorial shows by
torchlight (Suet. Dom. 4.1). A relief from the eastern part of the Mediterranean
shows two gladiators, clearly women, involved in combat and it was not until the
time of Septimius Severus that the practice of females being involved in
gladiatorial contests was explicitly banned (Balsdon 1969: 168).
254
Spinning and weaving was a strongly gender-related occupation and one which
most women undertook. Equipment associated with this activity is sometimes
found deposited in the graves of females. The equipment required in the process of
spinning includes distaffs, spindles and spindle-whorls. The most practical type of
distaff, common in the Roman provinces, was that made of wood (Wild 1970: 31).
Survival is rare; however, a few are known from Roman Britain (Wild 1970: 127
Table E), while three ornamental distaffs of jet have been discovered in York, one
in a grave context (Wild 1970: 125 Table E). The tombstone of Regina from South
Shields shows her holding a distaff in her left hand, attesting to her wifely
occupation. Spindles too are generally made of wood but examples of bone
spindles from Roman Britain are listed by Wild (1970). Spindle-whorls are discshaped weights pierced with a central hole and are made of many kinds of
materials, with bone, jet and shale being popular. Being more durable than the
distaff and spindle they are commonly found on Romano-British sites (Clarke
1979: 248), including cemeteries. At Lankhills nine spindle-whorls were recovered
from graves (only two of the skeletons were able to be assigned a sex and both
were females), two bone, one jet and six shale. Shale spindle-whorls are
particularly evident in southern Britain, with an abundant source of the material to
be found at Kimmeridge, Dorset. As well as the Lankhills examples eleven were
found at Portchester, fourteen at Silchester (Clarke 1979: 248 n.9) and four at
Poundbury (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 100). The burial of the decapitated
elderly female at Kimmeridge and that of the secondary female burial in this grave
both contained shale spindle-whorls (Calkin 1947: 35) as did that of another
decapitated female at nearby Studland (Philpott 1991: 356).
The burial of an adolescent of uncertain sex in the Poundbury cemetery, as well as
containing a ‘fancy’ shale spindle-whorl, was also found to contain a jet distaff,
used to hold the raw wool in the spinning process. Among other goods deposited
in this grave was a bone hair pin, a ring and bracelets. The appearance of such
‘female’ accoutrements and tools lead to the premise that this is the burial of a
young woman and one theory has it that the grave goods may be part of a dowry
255
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 100). Along with a decorative jet spindle-whorl, a jet
distaff was also found in the grave of a female at Morton Walk, South Shields. A
triangular bone weaving-tablet was discovered in the grave of a possible female in
her twenties in the Lankhills Cemetery (Clarke 1979: 251), while square weavingtablets have been found in association with three cremations at Tremworth Down
and Crundale Limeworks, Crundale, Kent. One of the cremations held four bone
tablets while the other two contained antler tablets, four in one grave and one in
the other (Philpott 1991: 278). Tablet-weaving appears to have been peculiar to
the northern provinces (Wild 1970: 74) and was often used in the weaving of
bands. The twisting of threads using these tablets can produce complicated
patterns.
Discoveries of writing implements in a grave context from Roman Britain are
infrequent but have occurred and may be associated with the occupation of the
individual. An inkpot was discovered among the grave goods deposited with a first
century cremation burial at Stanway near Colchester. This is rare evidence for
literacy at this time (Taylor 2001: 95), however, a neighbouring chamber held the
cremated remains of the doctor, along with his surgical kit (above). An indication
of the possibly elite status of the individuals buried here. A wooden writing tablet
and two copper-alloy styli were found at the feet of the skeleton of a man from
Butt Road, Colchester (Crummy et al. 1993: 51) and an iron stylus, with a
decorative inlay of silver/copper, was recovered from the Eastern Cemetery of
Roman London. This stylus, possibly enclosed in a bone or leather case, was
deposited in an unburnt secondary vessel with cremated remains of a mid-second
to mid-third century date (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 134, 192). An iron nib was
also recovered from the late Roman cemetery at Bletsoe, Bedfordshire (Dawson
1994: 9).
Literacy in the western provinces of the empire was probably only between 5-10%
(Harris 1989: 272) and in Britain its extent is not likely to have been much above
256
the lower mark 6. The literate are likely to have been seen as powerful individuals
in their community, and the depositing of the instruments of their trade in the
grave, as in the surgeon’s kit in the grave of the doctor, could be suggestive of this
pre-eminent position.
10.4 Epigraphic evidence
The most reliable evidence for occupation in a mortuary context is to be found on
those tombstones that specifically state the profession of the deceased.
Unfortunately these instances are rare and, apart from the dedications to
Classicianus (see ch. 8.2), the Procurator, and Gaius Calpurnius Receptus (see ch.
7.7 and fig. 7.3), the priest from Bath, refer to military personnel. The most
common military occupations cited on tombstones from Roman Britain are those
of standard bearer, beneficarius, decurion and centurion, all of which occur several
times. We also have evidence of an optio, second-in-command to a centurion (RIB
1: 544), a curator (RIB 1: 1480), a bucinator, trumpeter (RIB 1: 1559), a
cornicularius, staff-clerk (RIB 1: 1742), a medicus ordinarius, a surgeon serving
in the ranks (RIB 1: 1618) and a custos armorum, a keeper of the armament store
(RIB 1: 2003). The tombstone of Barates, found in Corbridge (RIB 1: 1171),
describes him as a vexillarius. Collingwood and Wright (1965: 386) are of the
opinion that he would have been a flag-bearer attached to a military unit. Birley
(1979: 127), however, considers that the term indicates that Barates was a flagmaker or ‘trader in ensigns’ as opposed to a flag-bearer.
An inscribed fragment of Romano-British coarse ware pottery was found in the
bed of the River Thames near Taplow, Buckinghamshire, in the late nineteenth
century. A convincing argument has been advanced by Wright (1977) that this was
6
Millett’s estimate of the military population of Britain during the first half of the fourth century is
just over 3% (1990:185) including dependents. Even if all soldiers were literate, and Harris
provides evidence to the contrary (1989: 253-254) and some dependents also, the total would still
come in at considerably less than 3%. The urban population (and once again, not all would be
literate) at an estimated 6.5% would account for the majority of the administrative, political and
trading purposes of the written word. Even allowing for the possibility of a number of rural
dwellers being literate or semi-literate the overall total in the province is still not likely to have
reached the 10% mark.
257
part of a cinerary urn originally containing the remains of a mulus physicus, a
‘mule physician’. This fragment contains the partial remains of three lines of an
inscription written in Greek letters. Although there is some doubt over the meaning
of the inscription, research by Wright leads to an interpretation in favour of this
occupation (Wright 1977). Mules were important to the army for transportation
and for use in the postal service and it is possible that this urn held the remains of a
veterinary surgeon attached to a military unit to care for them.
10.5 Discussion
The contribution of grave evidence in attempting to determine the occupational
activities of the people in Romano-British communities is, at present, severely
limited, as a comparison with what Birley (1979) can say about this subject from
the totality of evidence makes clear.
In general the assigning of specific activities or occupations based on pathology or
muscle development can at best be only an inference and not a definite, and things
are unlikely to improve greatly in that regard in the near future. It may be possible
to say that specific muscles are well developed in an individual and that they have
been frequently used, but, to relate these well developed muscles to a specific
activity is not reliable. Lifestyles and activities in a population may be suggested
by comparing them to populations of a known background with similar patterns of
muscle use and pathology. Again though, only inferences can be drawn and our
only hope is that more populations of known background may be excavated in the
future (Tucker 2006: pers.comm.).
More reliable evidence can be found through grave goods and the words and
images on tombstones. The incidence of personal possessions and equipment in
the grave however accounts for less than 1% of the burials of Roman Britain and
appears to represent individualistic and perhaps, idiosyncratic, selection (Philpott
1991: 189). The decision to place items relating to a person’s occupation in their
grave seems to have been an arbitrary one. However, the practice may have been
258
more widespread than the surviving evidence suggests. Many items of equipment
are likely to have been made of perishable materials or been organically based.
Wooden farming implements and even animals and joints of meat (for which there
is ample evidence) could have been buried with those involved in agricultural
activities or in the butchering and provision of animal based produce. Animal
hides, which would have long since perished in most soil conditions, could have
been buried with those in the tanning industry and those involved in the production
of leather items. Even some of the pottery items or jewellery discovered in graves
could have been indicative of a person’s occupation rather than being personal
possessions. It is only the durable and the unusual that will generally provide us
with a reasonably accurate view of occupational activities.
The use of tombstones in this regard is hampered by both temporal and regional
constraints, and a distinct deficiency in numbers. Far more information regarding
occupations can be extracted from inscriptions in general. Inscribed altars and
building dedications provide evidence of a guild of smiths from Chichester (RIB 1:
91), a sculptor from Bath (RIB 1: 151), a coppersmith from Colchester (RIB 1:
194), a guild treasurer from Lincoln (RIB 1: 247), a doctor from Chester (RIB 1:
461), and a trader from York (Hassall and Tomlin 1977: 430), to name just a few.
We have the names of potters on the remains of their work, occasionally found
deposited in graves, while a few blacksmiths, coppersmiths and workers in other
precious metals are also attested by the remains of work bearing their names.
Oculists stamps stand as evidence of this group of workers, however, none have
been found in a grave context.
Through mortuary archaeology in general, considerably more can be deduced
regarding occupations of Roman Britain simply by making plausible inferences
about what we can observe in relation to the graves and the burial sites. The
evidence of grave goods, including pottery, jewellery, leather goods, etc.,
reinforces the existence of potters, jewellers, goldsmiths, tanners, and any number
of artisans in the community. Remnants of exotic silk and foodstuffs not native to
259
Britain point to traders in foreign goods and those involved in their transport.
There would have been a need for gravediggers, carpenters to make coffins and
stonemasons to construct stone sarcophagi, mausolea and tombstones. The figured
tombstones, some of a high standard, would have required specialist stonemasons
and the evidence of the wall paintings in the mausolea at Poundbury is indicative
of artists in the community. Administrative personnel would have been needed in
the organisation and efficient operation of these large urban cemeteries. Although
this type of evidence does not necessarily identify any occupations of which we
would not otherwise be aware (apart from the possible exception of gravedigger),
it does add considerably to our database of information.
260
CHAPTER 11: RECREATION
__________________________________________________________________
Relaxation and recreation in Britain, in general, followed the trend of Rome and
other provinces. The physical remains of bath buildings, theatres and,
amphitheatres, mosaics and theatrical masks provide ample evidence of the ways
in which the Romano-British people relaxed. A visit to the public bath-house was
probably the most common form of leisure, where one could indulge in
conversation and relaxation. The accompanying palaestra, traditionally an open
space but sometimes a covered area in Britain, provided for more strenuous
activity in the form of running, wrestling and boxing. The theatre and amphitheatre
would have provided a more visual form of entertainment for both the military and
civilian population, providing a variety of diversions, both religious and secular.
Hunting for pleasure in Britain would have afforded a more adventurous sport with
deer, wild boar and possibly bear being the quarry.
The evidence of mortuary archaeology is able to provide little evidence of these
activities, with the notable exception of the ‘gladiator lamp’ in the bustum burial in
the Watling Street Cemetery (discussed ch. 10.3). As we have seen (ch. 10.2) the
effects of activities such as running and horse riding are sometimes reflected in
skeletal remains, with the remains of several Romano-British individuals
indicating the possibility of them being involved in such activities. Whether this
was a recreational or occupational pursuit though is conjecture. What we do have,
however, through the burial evidence, is a suggestion of recreational activities of a
more sedentary nature. This evidence tends to manifest itself in the appearance in
the grave of items associated with such pursuits.
Gaming sets, including boards and counters, are common finds on Roman sites of
all periods and have been discovered associated with both cremations and
inhumations from Roman Britain. Forty-six bone counters with incised dots
accompanied a late second century cremation at Trentholme Drive. Graffiti
appears on the reverse of almost all of these counters (Wenham 1968: 32). A
261
folding wooden board and twenty glass gaming pieces was found with a cremation
in a timber-lined chamber at Stanway (fig. 11.1). The adjoining doctor’s cremation
burial (see above 10.3) had, among its grave goods, another folding gaming board
with thirteen blue and thirteen white counters still in a gaming position (fig. 11.2)
(Taylor 2001: 95-96).
Fig. 11.1: Set of gaming counters and
the remains of a gaming board from a
cremation burial at Stanway.
Fig. 11.2: Set of gaming
counters and the remains
of gaming board as found
with the set of surgical
instruments
‘doctor’s
Stanway.
262
in
the
grave
at
Sets of bone counters were also found associated with two cremation burials at St
Pancras, Chichester and a set of mainly glass counters was found with two dice in
a mid second to early third century cremation at Ospringe, Kent (Cool 2004: 396).
Two single counters cut from pottery sherds were found in association with
cremation burials at the Skeleton Green Cemetery (Partridge 1981: 110) while a
dice and a bone counter were among the pyre and cremation residues at the
Eastern Cemetery of Roman London (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 136).
Examples associated with inhumations include those found at Lullingstone, Kent,
the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester and the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London
and include both decorated and undecorated counters (fig. 11.3). A complete
gaming set, including wooden board and two sets of fifteen counters, was found on
the lid of a lead coffin in the temple mausoleum at Lullingstone (Meates 1987:
123). The counters in this case were of white and a red/brown colour with mavered
spots of red, blue and turquoise on the white counters and blue, blue-tinged
turquoise and yellow-tinged turquoise on the red/brown counters. At Lankhills
fifteen black counters, nine complete and two fragmentary white counters, an ivory
die, a semicircular glass piece and a coral stick were found by the right foot of a
young adult male (Clarke 1979: 252). Inlaid spots on both the black and white
counters include red and blue, in various configurations. Unlike the previous
examples, the thirteen black and eleven white counters found with four bone dice
in a wooden box placed in a grave (B435) in the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London, dated to the mid first century, were undecorated. Layers of a waxy, dark
fine sediment in the box may also indicate the presence of a gaming board (Barber
and Bowsher 2000: 193). Also in this cemetery two bone dice were found included
in an elaborate array of grave goods in a wooden casket and associated with the
burial of a young adult female (B291). A jet die was found in yet another grave
(B705).
The games associated with this equipment are generally considered to be of two
types. Ludus duodecum scriptorum, a game employing a six-sided dice and fifteen
263
counters per player, can be likened to a form of backgammon (Austin 1934: 32ff),
while ludus latruncularum is a Roman game played without the use of
Fig. 11.3. Top. Gaming set from grave 51 Lankhills Cemetery (From Clarke 1979: plate 1).
Bottom. Gaming set of glass counters and bone dice from burial B435 Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 135).
dice. The name of this game literally means ‘the soldier-game’ and the playing of
it involves military style manoeuvres (Austin 1934: 25). Literary sources tell us
that it was played on a board marked with lines and spaces and used pieces of
glass of different colours, the aim being to remove as many as possible of the
opponents pieces, the winner being hailed imperator (Austin 1934: 26). The
number and colouring of the spots on many of the counters discovered could be
related to their positioning on the board or the moves allowable by different
pieces, somewhat similar to chess.
264
Three clay marbles were found in the Trentholme Drive Cemetery, York (Wenham
1968: 98), but whether these were used in game playing can only be conjecture.
The playing of games with a distinctly Roman flavour, in Britain, is notable
evidence for the importation into the province of Roman social behaviour. This
evidence, although limited and restricted at this point to the burials of those in
more highly Romanised urban areas, is not restricted to the period after the
invasion. An Iron-Age, aristocratic, burial at Welwyn Garden City, Hertfordshire,
was found to contain 24 glass gaming counters (6 each of white, blue, yellow and
light green) and indications of a board (Wacher 1998: 282). Burial customs in this
part of the country at this time are known to have been influenced by a desire to
emulate the sophisticated foreign culture (Taylor 2001: 77) and the appearance of
such games, both pre and post invasion is evidence of a degree of cultural
diffusion.
265
CHAPTER 12: COSTUME AND APPEARANCE
__________________________________________________________________
12.1 Introduction
The intention in this chapter is to explore what can be learned of the style of dress
and footwear and the hairstyles of the people of Roman Britain, from what has
survived in some of these burials. Other evidence, however, will be introduced into
the discussion in order to place the burial evidence in context.
As our written sources are largely unconcerned with ‘everyday life’, evidence for
the type of clothing and hairstyles worn by the people of Roman Britain has to be
realised mainly through artistic depictions (generally funerary), preserved clothing
(textiles, leather), preserved hair and its accessories. Funerary art from Roman
Britain is confined to a few extant figured tombstones and the fragmentary remains
of wall paintings. The remnants of clothing and the relatively few accessories,
found in a mortuary context, are unlikely to ever present a full picture but can
certainly be of benefit when used in conjunction with other evidence.
12.2 Clothing
12.2.1 The soldier
The armour and accoutrements of the Roman soldier has been well researched and
discussed (Bishop and Coulston 1993). The discovery of preserved weapons and
metal fittings from soldiers’ attire, their depiction on a number of figured
tombstones from Britain and literary evidence concerning the Roman army in
general has allowed us to gain a relatively complete picture of the Roman soldier
in Britain. The soldier can generally be seen wearing a tunic, belted to hold the
dagger and sword, and topped with a cape. Two types of cape were in use, the
sagum, which was draped around the shoulder and fastened there with a brooch
and the paenula, styled more like a poncho with an opening for the head (Bishop
and Coulston 1993: 100).
266
Several military tombstones from Britain provide evidence of the soldiers’ apparel.
The third-century tombstone of Marcus Aurelius Nepos from Chester (RIB 1: 491)
shows the sagum type cloak, clearly fastened on the right shoulder. Nepos also
wears a tunic and a belt fastened by a round clasp. In contrast to the style of this
locally carved tombstone, a much more classical rendition dated to the mid-first
century is to be found on the tombstone of the centurion Marcus Favonius Facilis
(RIB 1: 200) from Colchester (fig. 3.3 right). In presentation and stance, the
representation of the centurion here appears to be derived from the classical style
based on the cuirass statue of imperial Rome (Phillips 1975: 103). The soldier is
shown wearing a tunic, a sagum, belts holding his dagger and sword and a metal
cuirass. A standard-bearer from York, Lucius Duccius Rufinus, is shown on his
tombstone (RIB 1: 673) wearing a long-sleeved tunic and cloak and holding his
standard in his right hand.
Apart from the artistic representations on tombstones the only archaeological
evidence regarding the dress of the soldiers comes in the form of belt-fittings
discovered occasionally in the graves (fig. 12.1). These have been discovered
associated with burials in numerous instances and fall into several different
categories. These include both one and two strap belts and those with and without
buckles. Evidence points to a gradual change from the wearing of two belts (often
crossed) to one belt throughout the empire in the first century AD, while buckles in
Britain were generally tinned or silvered and often decorated with niello inlay
(Bishop and Coulson 1993: 96-98). The discovery of belt-fittings alone is not
evidence that they were of a military nature but, when associated with weapons in
the grave this may be assumed. This was the case in the burial of the two soldiers
from Camelon, Stirlingshire (see ch. 10.3), where evidence of weapons and armour
came to light as well as the belt-fittings.
267
Fig. 12.1: Copper-alloy belt set from grave B538 Eastern Cemetery of Roman London (Barber and
Bowsher 2000: 305)
Helmets are not represented on military tombstones from Britain of soldiers
depicted in a stationary mode, nor have they been discovered in a burial context.
However, small, bronze statuettes of helmeted riders, possibly cavalrymen have
been discovered however (Toynbee 1964: 119, plate XXXI c, d), as have some
quite elaborate examples of the ‘sports’ type helmet (fig. 12.2). Notable examples
of this type of helmet, mentioned by Arrian as being ‘….unlike those made for
battle…..’ and with manes ‘…….not for use, but to make a splendid
show……’(Tactica ch. 34ff), have been found in Britain made out of silver-plated
iron, bronze and brass. These tend to bear intricate repoussé ornamentation and,
apart from their use in the sporting arena, may also have been used for parades and
state occasions (Toynbee 1964: 299). Although these helmets are generally
believed to have been used for sporting and ceremonial occasions they do
occasionally appear on tombstones from Britain, where the wearer is depicted in a
battle situation. These figured reliefs are ‘action shots’ showing the soldier in the
act of overpowering the barbarian enemy. One from Cirencester shows Sextus
Valerius Genialis (RIB 1; 109) wearing a ‘sports helmet’ of a brass type
discovered at Newstead, while the plumed type of ‘sports helmet’ can be seen on
the tombstone of Flavinus (RIB 1: 1172) from Hexham. It is unlikely that these
helmets would have been worn in battle and their appearance on these tombstones
could represent another activity in which the deceased participated.
268
Fig. 12.2: Decorative helmet, made of thin gilt bronze sheet, found in the River Wensum at
Worthing, Norfolk. Norwich Museum (Photo. P. Lynch)
12.2.2 The civilian
12.2.2.1Introduction
Apart from those in a military context, instances of the portrayal of people are rare
from Roman Britain and the general mass of the population is seldom represented
in art. Mosaics, engravings on gems and sculptured figures, in the main, have been
found to portray the Gods, mythological creatures and animals while bronze
figurines overwhelmingly depict animals and deities, although there are occasional
renditions of the human form discovered from the province (Henig 1995: 38-40).
12.2.2.2 Style
The traditional view of a Roman citizen attired in his toga is unlikely to have been
encountered too often in Britain. It was illegal for non-Roman citizens to wear the
garment and, until the third century, the numbers of full citizens in Britannia
269
would almost certainly have been low (Mattingly 2006: 319). Although Tacitus
tells us that ‘a liking sprang up [in Britain] for our style of dress, and the “toga”
became fashionable’ (Tac. Agr.21), we must remember who he was writing about
and for. His concern for the habits of the mass of the population would have been
negligible, his interest, and that of his intended audience, lay with the upper
classes. Artistic depictions of this classical style of dress are rare in Britain but one
of two over-sized marble busts discovered at Lullingstone Roman Villa displays
clothing of a purely civilian nature that consists of a tunic and toga. It is likely
though that these busts represent upper-class individuals, possibly in the imperial
service, who were stationed in the province during the second century (Toynbee
1964: 61). What was conventionally worn by the Romano-Britons would have
been a wide fitting tunic - the ‘Gallic coat,’ (fig. 12.3 top) and a sleeveless hooded
cape (Wild 2004: 299). Few depictions are to be found from Britain but we have
that of Philus from Cirencester dated to the first century (RIB 1; 110), clearly
showing the hooded cape (Fig. 12.3 left), and that of the veteran of the Legio VI
Victrix, C. Aeresius Saenus fromYork (RIB1:685) (Wild 2004: 301).
Fig. 12.3: Top. The ‘Gallic coat’ (From Wild 2004: 300).
Left. Tombstone of Philus from Cirencester wearing the
‘Gallic coat’ (From Toynbee 1964: Plate XLVII b )
270
The women appear to have been similarly attired to the men, the only difference
being in the length of the Gallic coat (Wild 2004: 304). On women it was worn
calf-length while men wore it to the knees. Over the coat women would have worn
a cloak, usually rectangular and able to be worn in various ways (Allason-Jones
1989: 110). Our best evidence for women’s dress is in the form of funerary
representations.
Fig 12.4: Tombstone of Aurelia Aureliana from Carlisle (From Allason-Jones 1989: 113)
271
On the tombstone of Aurelia Aureliana (fig. 12.4) the coat and cloak is clearly
evident. Regina from South Shields (fig. 8.3), Julia Brica from York (RIB 686), a
thirty year old woman from Ilkley (RIB 1: 639) and a woman from Murrell Hill,
near Carlisle (fig. 12.5 left) also clearly display their fashion. From the evidence of
several tombstones the children seem to have been dressed in much the same
fashion as their parents. Saenius Augustinus at York (RIB 1: 685) and the son
depicted with his mother on the tombstone from Murrell Hill (Wild 2004: 304)
both wear coats and capes akin to the adult male. The daughter of Flavia
Augustina and C. Aeresius Saenus from York (RIB 1: 685) is dressed like her
mother (see fig. 6.5) as is the daughter of Julia Brica, also from York (RIB 1: 686).
The infant Vacia at Carlisle (RIB 1: 961) is similarly attired (fig. 12.5 right).
Fig 12.5: Left. Tombstone of woman from Murrell Hill (From Toynbee 1963: Plate 86). Right.
Artistic depiction of tombstone of Vacia, an infant, from Carlisle (RIB 1: 961)
272
12.2.2.3 Textiles
Sheep’s wool was the principal fibre of Britain and this would almost certainly
have been utilised in the making of these garments (Wild 2004: 299, 301). The
process of textile manufacture - fibre preparation, spinning and weaving, was well
advanced in Britain prior to the first century (Wild 2004: 299) and evidence of the
equipment used in the process, found in a burial context, is well documented.
However, the survival of any clothing or textile within a Romano-British grave is a
fortunate, though infrequent, occurrence and is generally dependent on soil
conditions and the presence of objects in the grave. Many of the scraps of textile
discovered in Romano-British graves have been found adhering to the more
enduring metal fastenings from garments or equipment which, as a result of a
chemical reaction have been fortuitously preserved.
Unfortunately no textile remains survived in the soil conditions of the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London (Barber and Bowsher 2000:103). However, at the
Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester, preservation of a few scraps of textile, adhering
to grave goods, indicate woollen and linen garments. A scrap of good quality wool
may have been part of a cloak or blanket and other scraps may have belonged to
woollen tunics. Fragments of linen preserved on a brooch and a buckle plate from
men’s graves were probably part of their tunics while the same textile adhering to
bracelets in women’s graves are likely to have been part of head-veils or linen
gowns (Clarke 1979: 329). It is not known though how extensive the use of linen
was in everyday clothing (Wild 2004: 301).
Textile markings were recovered from two fragments of iron straps associated with
a cremation burial at the Skeleton Green Cemetery (Partridge 1981: 309) while the
oxidised remains of a ‘fabric resembling linen’ was found on the back of a thistlebrooch from a Claudian cremation burial at Colchester (Wild 1970: 92).
Unusual conditions within the coffin of the hydrocephalic child from Arrington,
Cambridgeshire, resulted in the preservation of hair and textile fabrics. The textile
273
fragments were of two types, both of fine, dyed wool and the baby appears to have
been buried in wrappings of red and blue, one of which appears to have covered
the head (Taylor 1993).
Occasionally there are discoveries of textiles that are deemed unusual in a British
context. In the grave belonging to the ‘female gladiator’ from the Romano-British
cemetery on Watling Street, traces of gold found in the residue may be from textile
(Mackinder 2000: 37). While the sarcophagus from Spitalfields, holding the
remains of a wealthy young woman, possibly originally from Spain, contained the
largest assemblage of gold textile found in Britain. The exceptionally fine gold
thread was found near the woman’s thighs, around her ribs and by her wrists and is
likely to have formed a decorative element to a silk damask garment. The
appearance of the gold thread around the wrists indicates the possibility of
decoration on the cuff. The survival also of a fragment of woollen textile within
the sarcophagus indicates either another garment or a sheet or coffin lining
(Thomas 1999). A gypsum-packed stone coffin in mausoleum R7 at Poundbury
was also found to contain a small quantity of gold thread by the left foot of the
skeleton, the core of which may have been silk. It is not clear if this thread was
woven or embroidered (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 112).
The possibility of the garment worn by the Spitalfields woman as being of silk
may be reinforced with the discovery of a limited number of other examples of silk
found in a burial context from Roman Britain. At the Butt Road Cemetery,
Colchester, a fragment of cloth woven from unspun cultivated silk thread was
found on the right arm of a middle-aged male. A Chinese source for the cloth is
believed likely in that the thread had not been spun before use (Crummy et al.
1993: 129) but the small amount found does not allow us to determine if the fabric
was part of the clothing or a burial shroud. Excavation of a Roman barrow at
Holborough, Kent, produced the remains of small fragments of fabric in a lead
sarcophagus containing the remains of a very young child. This was a secondary
burial believed to date to the early third century. The fabric is believed to be silk,
274
of a similar kind, but earlier in date, to a silk textile previously found in Syria
(Wild 1965: 246ff). The use of these fabrics indicates a new trend, at the beginning
of the third century, in which the flamboyant fabrics and clothing of Syria and Iran
began to emerge among the elite of Britain (Wild 2004: 303).
The colour of clothing from this period is a subject for which we have very little
surviving evidence. The dyes and natural colours of the surviving textile fragments
have been distorted or destroyed over time by the presence of chemicals (Wild
1985: 408). Paint depicting the colours of the clothing worn, which would have
enhanced the character of many of the sculptured tombstones, has long since
disappeared. Tombstones such as that of Flavinus from Hexham, with its lack of
detail, is likely to have had its features distinguished in paint.
Painted figures on at least two walls and the ceiling of mausoleum R8 at the
Poundbury Cemetery do serve however to give some indication of the use of
colour in clothing. This mausoleum contained the burials of two adult males in
their forties and fifties, two adult females in their mid-twenties, a child around
twelve years of age and two infants under twelve months. There was evidence of
wooden coffins but not the more elaborate lead-lined coffins found elsewhere in
the cemetery. Both the walls and ceiling of this mausoleum had painted
decoration, some of which was preserved under layers of debris as, first the roof
and then the upper walls of the construction decayed. Mausoleum R8 was not
unique in this cemetery in being decorated with wall paintings. R9 has also
produced evidence of painted plaster, unfortunately not in the quantities retrieved
from R8. The fragments from R9 also show the use of colour and suggest the
possibility of figures being included. The impression in the painting from
mausoleum R8 (fig. 12.6) is of a group of people wearing simple but high status
dress, with the possibility of it being a group portrait of members of a family
gathered at a burial the most credible explanation (Farwell and Molleson 1993:
138-139). Purple robes are worn by at least three individuals with others bearing
evidence of white and green colouring. Purple and white are colours known to be
275
commonly used in clothing for more significant figures and the scene is
reminiscent of a ceremonial occasion (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 138-139). This
is the only extant example from Roman Britain of colouring in clothing in a
funerary context. However, brightly coloured robes are worn by the figures in the
painting on the West Wall of the House-Church at the Lullingstone Villa in Kent
(Meates 1987: 16-17) and a fragmentary mosaic from East Coker, Somerset also
exemplifies the use of colour (Henig 1995: 72).
Fig. 12.6: Wall painting from Mausoleum R8 at Poundbury
12.3 Footwear
What the Romano-Britons wore on their feet has been in the news in recent years
with two separate archaeological discoveries indicating the likelihood of some of
these people being in the habit of wearing socks with their sandals.
In 2003 a foot from a bronze statue was unearthed at the site of a Romano-Celtic
temple complex in London (fig. 12.7 above). This foot appears to be wearing what
276
has been interpreted as a woollen sock with a Mediterranean-type sandal
(http//news.bbc.co.uk). In 2005 the discovery of a Roman razor handle in the
shape of a leg and foot was found in the River Tees at Piercebridge, near
Darlington (fig. 12.7 below). This artefact also shows the foot with a woollen sock
worn beneath a sandal (http//news.bbc.co.uk).
Fig 12.7: Above. The foot from a bronze statue discovered during the excavation of a RomanoCeltic temple complex in Southwark (From www//news.bbc.co.uk)
Below. Roman razor handle in the shape of a human leg and foot found in the River Tees at
Percebridge (From www//news.bbc.co.uk)
277
One of the Vindolanda letters mentions socks, amongst other items of clothing,
being sent to the frontier post (Tab. Vindol. 11. 346), and the discovery of the
physical evidence suggests that at least some people were in the habit of wearing
socks in the colder climate of the northern province.
Unfortunately, but not
surprisingly, no textile evidence has been found as yet to substantiate the wearing
of socks in Roman Britain.
Owing to the obvious problems of survival of organic matter, footwear in the
grave is generally only archaeologically visible when metal fittings were involved
in their construction. Lighter footwear, in the form of stitched shoes and sandals
and one piece shoes held in place by thongs, likely to have been worn particularly
by women and children, is discovered rarely in graves (Philpott 1991: 165). With
the survival of wooden items even more problematic than those made of leather,
the possibility of wooden clog type shoes being worn can be no more than
speculation. In many of the full-length artistic depictions (generally tombstone
reliefs), the feet are not clearly defined. In those where the feet are discernible they
are either barefoot or wearing sandals. However, clogs would seem to be a more
robust alternative to leather shoes, particularly for those involved in working
outside in all weathers.
The evidence that we have for footwear through mortuary archaeology is restricted
mainly to the presence of hobnails in the grave. Hobnails indicate only the use of
shoes of nailed construction and are evidence for the practice of depositing these
items as grave goods not the extent of their use. Their presence in the graves of
males however, does serve to suggest the likelihood that the men were more likely
to wear this more sturdy type of footwear. According to Philpott (1991: 169), from
the mortuary evidence available, men were more likely to be provided with
hobnailed footwear than women. Figures from the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London concur, with the graves of twice as many men as women in this cemetery
containing evidence of this type of footwear (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 137).
278
However, from the evidence for footwear in general, it would seem that the most
popular styles in closed footwear were used by men, women and children alike
(Van Driel-Murray 2001: 194). At Poundbury, the number of degenerative joint
changes associated with the foot was also seen as indicating the likelihood of many
people wearing ill fitting shoes, too small for them (Farwell and Molleson 1993:
199).
The dearth of evidence for footwear found in a mortuary context is, fortuitously,
countered by the relatively large numbers of examples found in non-mortuary
situations – over fourteen hundred recognisable items of footwear have been
discovered at Vindolanda alone (Van Driel-Murray 2001: 186). These discoveries
allow us to ascertain that several types of footwear were in use in Britain and fall
into four main types (de la Bédoyère 1989: 127) - nailed shoes, stitched shoes,
sandals secured with nails or thonging and one piece shoes held on to the foot with
leather thongs. Each of these types is likely to have had specific functions and their
use indicates the adoption of a change in attitude towards the function of clothing
(Van Driel-Murray 2001: 186). A form of ankle boot made of purple leather with
gold decoration was found at Southfleet while examples of ladies ‘slippers’ and
unisex latchet shoes with a strap have also come to light in Romano-British
contexts (Allason-Jones 1989: 121)
12.4 Hair
12.4.1 Introduction
Over the four centuries of Roman rule the hairstyle of the Romano-Britons would
have varied, with some following the style in Rome, particularly imperial style,
while others would have been influenced by local habit. Evidence, in the form of
surviving hair and accessories and representations on tombstones is remarkably
informative and even Tacitus has something to say on the subject (see ch. 3.2.2).
Tacitus comments on the variation in colour and texture of the hair of the Britons,
noting the red hair of the Caledonians and the curly hair of the Silures (Tac. Agr.
11). Although artistic depictions are rare, the few sculptures in the round that we
279
do have and the tombstones with sculptured reliefs that have survived reasonably
intact certainly help in our assessment of the hairstyles of the period.
Careful arrangement of the hair was clearly a part of Romano-British funeral
preparations (Philpott 1991: 181). This is evidenced by the presence of hair
accessories and, in some cases, the survival of styled and combed hair in graves.
Accessories, particularly those associated with female graves, provide us with
information regarding the accoutrements of the females and the styling serves to
indicate an awareness of the fashions of the time. Whether this was indicative of
the style worn on a daily basis by these women is problematic.
12.4.2 Style
For the hairstyles of the young we have only a few examples. Only two cases of
preserved hair in a burial context have come to light for this age group. One
belongs to the young child buried at Arrington, discussed previosly. The remains
of this young child included a small, dense mass of blonde hair that could have
been combed but not plaited. Decaying fragments of fabric indicate that the head
had been covered at the time of burial (Taylor 1993: 202). A lock of short, light
brown hair belonging to a child, unwashed with a slight wave was also discovered
in the Poundbury Cemetery (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 205). A funerary relief
from Lincoln, with a well preserved head and body of a young boy, gives us a
clear view of his hair. It is, however, portrayed in a stylised manner of the Greek
sculptor Polyclitus (Toynbee 1964: 201).
For adults we do have a little more substantial evidence in the form of preserved
hair and artistic representations. The acidic environment of the bog in which the
Lindow Man was discovered served to preserve both head and facial hair (fig.
12.9). The head hair was short and straight and probably brown in colour and
appeared to have been cut by shears or scissors. The facial hair was short and
coarse and darker than the head hairs and the moustache, with evidence of rough
cutting, was found to overlap the upper lip by one to two millimetres (Stead et al.
280
1986: 66-71). Caesar also mentions the fact that the Britons did not shave their
upper lip (Gallic War: v.14).
The only artistic rendition of facial hair from Roman Britain appears to be in the
wall painting in the mausoleum at the Poundbury Cemetery in Dorchester where
both moustaches and beards appear to in evidence (see fig. 12.6)We have no
artistic representation of a moustache from Britain but it can be seen graphically in
Gallic examples, such as that of the Helvetic tribesman on a facing tile from
Vindonissa, Switzerland and the head of a Helvetian from Prilly (Pobé 1961: No.
145, 200), and in the famous Dying Gaul from Pergamum (Fig. 12.8). Artistic
evidence for beards from Roman Britain is rarely found, however, the individuals
depicted on the Lullingstone busts both sport beards as do two on tombstones from
Chester, Marcus Aurelius Nepos (RIB 491) and Caecilius Avitus (RIB 492).
Fig. 12.8: The Dying Gaul
Fig. 12.9: Reconstruction of
the Lindow Man
The use of gypsum in coffins, on several occasions, has preserved for us examples
of hair from the Romano-British period. From York we have a well-preserved
head of hair recovered from a gypsum burial in the Railway Cemetery. This
auburn hair is still fastened in a bun by two jet pins (fig. 12.10). At Poundbury,
skeletons in seven of the twenty-four lead-lined coffins with gypsum packing had
retained varying amounts of hair. The remains of the two individuals buried in
mausoleum R9, a female around forty years of age and a male around thirty, both
included some hair. The woman had a coil of dark brown hair at the nape of the
281
neck, held in place by a twig, probably in lieu of a pin or comb. This well kept and
styled hair complies with contemporary illustrations of women with their hair
coiled or in a bun. The hair of the male in the same mausoleum, in the main was
short, dark and wavy with hints that it may have been treated with henna. A loose
tress, possibly a false piece, was also evident (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 206).
Fig. 12.10: The hair of a young woman from a gypsum burial in York, York Museum. (Photo. P.
Lynch)
The styling of the hair of a young woman in her twenties, buried in the main
cemetery at Poundbury, was of quite an elaborate nature (fig. 12.11).The fair hair
was styled into two or three plaits with tresses of long and short hair. It is possible
that a six-strand plait enclosed a bun at the nape of the neck while a five-strand
plait encircled the head. This woman would have required assistance with the
styling of her hair and it is likely that she had a maid (Farwell and Molleson
1993:206).
282
Fig. 12.11: The remains of elaborately styled hair from the Poundbury Cemetery (From Farwell &
Molleson 1993: 147)
283
Hair from two other women in the cemetery, one a rich brown colour and the other
of dark blond, although not as well preserved, show evidence of similar styling in
the form of a bun or twisting around the head (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 206).
This style appears to have been common with women as further examples show.
An onyx cameo from Silchester (fig. 12.12) shows the young woman’s hair pulled
back and secured in a bun at the nape (Henig 1995: 74), while a female mask
ornamenting a monumental tomb at Towcester, Northamptonshire depicts a high
coiffed head of hair, also drawn back from the face but with a curl of hair down
each side (Henig 1995: 100 fig.65).
Fig. 12.12: Onyx cameo from Silchester (From Henig 1995: 75)
Curls in front of the ears are also found on the depiction of a woman on the
Murrell Hill tombstone. Her hairstyle is likely to be a copy of that worn by
Hadrian’s wife, Sabina (Phillips 1976: 102), while the empress Tranquillina’s
hairstyle is believed to be the basis for that of Aurelia Aureliana, depicted on a
mid-third century tombstone from Carlisle. Her long hair is parted in the centre
with the back part drawn up and forwards to form a pad which is pinned on top of
the head (Phillips 1976: 105). This hairstyle was adopted by several succeeding
empresses and is also attested on a female head of stone from York dated to the
third century. A hairstyle of the ‘sponge’ variety reminiscent of that favoured by
the imperial ladies of the Flavian period is to be found on a sculpted head from
Bath (figs. 12.13 and 12.14). As the facial features bear no resemblance to an
imperial lady it is believed to be a funerary portrait of a private person rather than
284
Fig. 12.13: Front view of female head showing the ‘sponge’ type hairstyle. Bath Museum (Photo.
P. Lynch)
285
Fig. 12.14: Rear view of female head showing ‘sponge’ type hairstyle. Bath Museum (Photo. P.
Lynch)
286
an imperial portrait (Toynbee 1964: 58). The hairstyle of a thirty year old woman
from Ilkley (RIB 1: 639), whose tombstone was erected by one or both of her
parents is of particular interest. Her hair is worn in two long plaits, one draped
over each shoulder, a particularly unusual representation, being a recognisably
young hairstyle for a mature woman. It could be that these plaits were normally
worn encircling the head as in the example from Poundbury and that this
representation was a more casual depiction chosen by her parents.
Another interesting, but also poorly preserved example was to be found in the
Poundbury cemetery. The hair from this young man which was found to contain
nit egg cases was short and oiled with evidence of combing with a coarse-tined
comb (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 205).
Additionally, hair markings etched on the crania of three females and a male at
Poundbury provided evidence for their hair-styles. These indicated that, on males
the hair was generally combed forward from the crown to fall over the brow while
on females, the hair was drawn back from the brow with a central parting (Farwell
and Molleson 1993: 206). This accords with the hairstyles on the few sculptured
examples that we have.
Although the evidence for hair care and styling among the Poundbury population
indicates a ‘kempt’ and sophisticated group of people (Farwell and Molleson 1993:
206), the evidence that we have comes from those buried in lead-lined, gypsum
packed coffins, a discrete group in themselves. Although not considered to be
physically distinct, as a class, from other burials (Farwell and Molleson 1993: 151)
the use of a specific burial rite (there were only 26 lead-lined coffins in a cemetery
containing over 1400 burials) must be relevant. We cannot be sure either that the
styling of the hair for burial reflected the mode of wearing the hair in life. In some
cases, in burial we may be looking at an ideal.
287
It is difficult also to understand the extent to which these styles may have been
influenced by Rome and whether they may have simply been a continuation of
native style. Although the Celtic Cult of the Head resulted in the artistic depiction
of heads on a relatively large scale, these are generally found to be stylised
portrayals and many date to the Roman period. One example though from which
we can discern the hairstyle is that of bronze escutcheons modelled as human
heads from a vessel associated with a burial at Brough, Yorkshire (fig. 12.15)
(Ross 1967: 94). These male heads have thick hair combed down forward from the
crown as does a stone head reflecting the early native tradition found at the site of
the Roman fort at Manchester (fig. 33) (Ross 1967: 86).
Fig. 12.15: Bronze escutcheon from Brough-on-Humber (From Ross 1967: 96)
12.4.3 Discussion
It is tempting to see the Romano-British as being slaves to fashion. The evidence
that we have for the hairstyles of both men and women points firmly to their
predilection for following imperial fashion. The men favoured combing their hair
forward over the brow in the style of the emperors, particularly those of the JulioClaudian period, while the resemblance of some of the women’s hairstyles to those
of the empresses is undeniable. Although our evidence for hairstyling is limited, it
does seem to encompass individuals from several levels of Romano-British
society. The more elaborate styles of the imperial ladies are undoubtedly found on
sculptured pieces likely to depict upper class women. Evidence from cemeteries
such as that at Poundbury though, seems to indicate that, even within the working
288
class there was a tendency to adopt the styling prevalent at the time (albeit on a
less sophisticated level).
12.5 Hair accessories
12.5.1 Headbands
Evidence for the wearing of headbands has been discovered in several RomanoBritish graves. Bands of leather with glass and metal fittings were found in the
graves of two small female children, one in the Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester
and one in the cemetery at Butt Road, Colchester. At Lankhills the example
comprises gilt-bronze and glass fragments with traces of leather corroded to the
bronze found on either side of the skull. Clarke (1979: 317) finds continental
parallels for this type of accessory in children’s graves. This grave also contained
an elaborate array of jewellery, including bracelets of bronze, shale, iron and bone
and beads suggesting two different necklaces. The remains of the headband from
the Butt Road Cemetery, found across the brow of the child, comprised small
fragments of copper-alloy and glass with a patch of dark-stained soil representing
what remained of the leather band (Crummy et al. 1993: 145). Other articles of
ornamentation associated with this child were armlets of bone and metal, also
placed in the region of the skull. A headband from the Poundbury Cemetery,
Dorchester was found in the grave of a male around thirty years of age and was of
a dyed woollen fabric. It was possibly a woollen ribbon used to bind round the hair
(Farwell and Molleson 1993: 112) and, apparently undecorated, was of a different
nature to those found on the two children.
12.5.2 Hairpins
Hairpins are a common find in the graves of Romano-British females and could be
made of any durable material – metal, glass, jet, bone etc. Most are discovered
lying on or close to the skull and their function would have been to secure the hair
after styling. The most useful evidence we have being that of the bone hairpins still
securing the auburn tresses of the young woman from the Railway Cemetery, York
(ch.12.4.1). At Poundbury we have a coil of hair secured at the nape of the neck by
289
a twig. This twig may have been used in the burial in lieu of a pin; perhaps more
likely it is rare evidence for what would have been the norm amongst a poor
agricultural population – people, especially women, may have routinely used
sticks to hold their hair in place.
A few examples of hairpins discovered from Roman burial sites in Britain include
eight of metal and four of glass in the graves of two adult females and three
children (presumably female) at the Butt Road Cemetery (Crummy et al. 1993:
135). At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London only seven pins were discovered.
These were deposited in four inhumation graves with at least five more burnt pins
in the cremation residues (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 119). One grave, that of a
mature female, contained two jet hairpins by the skull and one pin of bone by the
lower legs, which is more likely to have been a fastener (Barber and Bowsher
2000: 216-217). The Poundbury Cemetery produced only three instances of the
survival of hairpins in graves. These bone pins were unique in that they had
triangular shaped heads, a relatively unusual form, with one of them being lathe
finished, a technique rarely used on Roman pins (Farwell and Molleson 1993:
105). At the Lankhills cemetery sixteen pins were found. Their positioning, near
the skulls in the graves, suggests that they were hair-pins (Clarke 1979: 315) and
include examples made of bone, bronze, jet, silver and glass.
12.5.3 Combs
Combs make an appearance in several Romano-British graves, however, the
presence of combs in the grave would seem to date to later in the period, with few
examples pre-dating the middle of the fourth century (Philpott 1991: 180). The
Lankhills Cemetery, Winchester provided evidence of the inclusion of combs in
the grave in twenty-one cases, at Butt Road, Colchester there are eight examples
and seven at the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester. All are of bone or antler and
date to the late fourth century, with one exception, from the Lankhills Cemetery, a
simple wooden comb dated to earlier in the fourth century. The specific conditions
required for the survival of wooden items do not occur often, but anaerobic water-
290
logged soil does occasionally furnish preserved examples of combs.
Such
conditions on sites in London have enabled the survival of combs made of wood
dating to the first and second century (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 133). The
apparent increased incidence of combs in graves in the later fourth century could
be due to various contributing factors. A change in the material of which they were
made, from wood to more durable bone, could account for the increased numbers.
That combs are rarely found associated with cremation burials (Philpott 1991:
180), could be accounted for by this change in material. Wooden combs are very
likely to have been destroyed in the cremation process. There is also the belief that
the increased incidence of combs in a burial context may have been due to a
culture change, a return to Celtic tradition (MacDonald 1979: 413-414).
Fig. 12.16: Romano-British comb
12.6 Cosmetics and perfumes
Examples of cosmetic or perfume containers are occasionally found in the graves
of Romano-Britons. Several forms of glass phials, generally believed to have
contained perfumes, oils or cosmetics, are relatively common finds with
291
cremations and continue to be used in inhumations (Philpott 1991: 117, 120).
London, known for its vast assemblage of Roman glass (Barber and Bowsher
2000: 127) has produced several examples. At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London grave B197 contained a small glass perfume bottle of greenish-blue glass
(fig. 12.17). This first to second century example was of a type previously
discovered associated with a cremation burial at the West Tenter Street site in
London. This type of jar is likely to have held cosmetic or pharmaceutical
preparations (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 153). Also at the Eastern Cemetery a
glass bottle dated to the third or fourth century, discovered in grave B308, could
have been a perfume bottle (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 171).
Fig. 12.17: Glass bottle and glass perfume bottle from grave B197 Eastern Cemetery of Roman
London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 128)
A mid-second century burial at the Romano-British cemetery on Watling Street
contained three examples of pharmaceutical or cosmetic phials. One of them, from
the evidence of a moulded inscription on the base, is likely to have originally held
an expensive cosmetic or, possibly, a pharmaceutical preparation from a state
owned property in Italy (Mackinder 2000: 42). Also from London, the well-to-do
lady from the Spitalfields grave was buried along with a late fourth or fifth century
phial which may have contained cosmetics or ointments. This phial was
292
accompanied by a long tapering jet rod which may have been used to extract the
contents (Thomas 1999). A grave group from a burial in York contained, amongst
an elaborate array of jewellery, three glass bottles which had probably held
cosmetics or perfume.
Several fragments of a glass oil flask were found in the grave of an adult male, in
the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London, dating to the late third to fourth century.
This aryballos, a type of bulbous-bodied oil flask, generally with two handles, was
specifically designed to carry bathing oils for use in the bath-house. The largest
assemblage of these in Britain has been found in the drain of the frigidarium at the
bath-house of the legionary fortress at Caerleon, Wales (Barber and Bowsher
2000: 145).
Fig. 12.18: Reconstruction drawing of an aryballos of the type found in grave B4 Eastern Cemetery
of Roman London (From Barber and Bowsher 2000: 145)
12.7 Mirrors
Mirrors have been discovered in both cremations and inhumations from Roman
Britain and, although still relatively rare, are more common in cremations than
inhumations (Philpott 1991: 183). The rite continues from the Iron-Age with
examples found in both Late Pre-Roman Iron-Age cremations and some very early
Romano-British examples. At King Harry Lane, St Albans, six silver mirrors of
Roman form were discovered in the La Tène III cremation cemetery followed by a
copper-alloy mirror in a Romano-British cremation (Philpott 1991: 182).
Cremation cemeteries discovered furnished with mirrors date from pre-conquest
through to the 3rd century. A lavishly furnished cremation from Norwich, dated to
the mid 60’s AD, included a white bronze mirror used as a cover for the cremation.
293
The remains of the mirror’s wooden case was found beneath it (Gurney 1998: 6,
23). Other cremations with mirrors used as coverings are known in Colchester and
Lincoln (Philpott 1991: 183).
Fig 12.19: Mirror from a cremation discovered in Norwich (From Gurney 1998: 25)
Philpott (1991: 183) sees the distribution of mirrors in burials concentrated in the
south-east of the Britain in urban or highly Romanised areas, and discoveries since
that publication also serve to confirm this fact, with examples from burials in
London and Dorset. At the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London mirrors are found
in both cremations and inhumations with one of exceptional quality coming from
cremation burial B138 (Barber and Bowsher 2000: 134) while a first century
‘Durotrigian’ inhumation burial from Portesham, Dorset discovered in 1994 and
dated to shortly after the arrival of the Romans was found to contain a finely
decorated Iron-Age mirror. The copper alloy mirror from Portesham had been
294
placed, decorated face upwards, on the woman’s waist or near her chest
(Fitzpatrick 1996: 53).
Fig 12.20: The highly decorated mirror from the ‘Durotrigian’ burial at Portesham, Doset (From
Fitzpatrick 1996: 51)
12.8 Discussion
Mortuary evidence for the style of dress worn by the Romano-Britons, for the way
they wore their hair and for the possibility of personal enhancement can give us
only a limited view. It can give an indication of the fabrics that were in use, but
cannot tell us how widespread the use of these fabrics, particularly the more
expensive type, was. It can show us some of the hairstyling fashions of the day,
but once again cannot give us any indication of how many people cared enough, or
were in a position, to follow those fashions. Items of a personal nature, hair
accessories, cosmetic and perfume containers and mirrors, allow us an insight into
the possibilities afforded these women in the way of personal enhancement, but
once again the extent of the use of these items in a society cannot be gauged. The
relatively few instances where this type of evidence does survive provide only a
tantalising glimpse of the society of Roman Britain. Combining this evidence with
what is known regarding clothing and appearance in a wider context from Britain
295
and comparing it to the rest of the Roman world though we see that there are
similarities. As is to be expected, the soldiers stationed in the province complied
with the style of military dress in other parts of the empire, while civilians also,
from the surviving evidence, appear to have accepted the Roman styles of dress.
Some of the fabrics discovered in Romano-British graves are paralleled in other
parts of the empire, hairstyles also are similar to those found on artistic depictions
from Rome and other provinces. Unfortunately the extent of this evidence, and the
limitations of mortuary archaeology in general, do not allow us to realistically
determine how widespread this stylistic use was and consequently how far the
conventions of Roman society went in influencing society in Britain.
296
CHAPTER 13: CONCLUSION
‘All that lives must die’
Shakespeare (Hamlet I:ii.72)
__________________________________________________________________
13.1 General conclusions
The Romans laid down the foundations of their culture in Britain. They instigated
a network of roads, they organised the towns and monumentalised the architecture
with public buildings and private residences and they introduced a form of
disposal of human remains which resulted in an enduring record, albeit on a
limited basis. Their contribution to mortuary practices was two-fold. They
provided the material elements necessary to be able to recognise the burials –
coffins, grave markers and metal items within the grave, and they instituted a
process of organised burial in structured and defined burial grounds.
This thesis has drawn together different types of evidence from all areas of
mortuary archaeology from Roman Britain, combined it with other material and
literary evidence and provided a study of the inhabitants of the province. Drawing
together as many details as possible of Romano-British burials from the local
record offices throughout Britain, published reports and where possible,
unpublished reports, I was able to construct a picture of the extent of the available
information. This then enabled an assessment of its strengths and weaknesses in
order to use it in a discriminating fashion to gain a view of specific aspects of the
lives of the Romano-Britons.
The first two parts looked in depth at the extent of the evidence, its reliability and
the possibilities it affords us when attempting to investigate the people of Roman
Britain. In order to accomplish this it was first necessary to quantify as far as
possible the probable extent of the population during this period and the numbers
of burials that we have. This resulted in confirmation of the established fact that
our mortuary evidence from Roman Britain represents only a small fraction of the
estimated population of the province over nearly four centuries of Roman rule. As
297
chapter 4.3.2 discusses, the majority of burials from this period in Britain have
disappeared. It is unfortunate, and we must be mindful of the fact that the loss of
almost all of the bodies and their burial places may have provided us with a
distorted interpretation.
A brief review of the literary and epigraphic evidence confirmed the belief that, as
a historical period, the Romano-British period was almost devoid of contemporary
literary evidence
regarding the inhabitants
of the province.
Funerary
commemorations add to our knowledge in a limited way but, as these tombstones
are rarely found in situ their usefulness is restricted. Having said that, although
relatively few in number, tombstones are a source of information accessible on
various levels. The words they use, the artistic depictions and the circumstances
under which they were erected can provide an invaluable adjunct to other types of
evidence. With such a dearth of evidence on a written level it is necessary to turn
to the burials themselves to provide information on those that lived and died in
these communities. Cemeteries are often better preserved than other archaeological
sites and the skeletons provide primary and more direct evidence of these people.
In attempting to gauge the availability and accessibility of the burial evidence, it
became obvious that there were distinct geographical and temporal biases. With
the exception of the major cemeteries of York and Brougham, the majority of
recorded burials are to be found in the south of the province. One major inhibiting
factor with regard to any analysis of Romano-British burial practices and the
assessment of the lives of the inhabitants, is the fact that the overwhelming bulk of
our evidence is dated to the second half of the period. The population of Britain in
the late pre-Roman Iron-Age was open to change and the arrival of the Romans
provided an opportunity for growth and expansion. In the area of burial, changes
were gradual and varied considerably geographically. Native burial rites, such as
the crouched burial style of the Durotrigians, often continued well into the Roman
period with the gradual inclusion of Roman ideas in the form of extended burial
and the use of coffins. That cremation, as in the rest of the empire, was practised
298
across a wide area of Britain in the first two centuries limits our analysis quite
considerably. Cremation, as well as being the practice of the native population in
the south east of Britain was introduced into the remainder of the country by the
Roman army and traders. Those, generally elite, burials that were accompanied by
other items such as pottery and glass vessels or lamps have remained recognisable
for what they are. Unfortunately the remains of many are likely to have been
placed in containers that have, over time, either disintegrated or been destroyed by
agricultural activity without their significance being recognised. Consequently it is
not until around the mid-third century that we have any relatively significant
numbers of burials to work with.
Also to be considered were the differences in the quality of excavation and
recording of the evidence. Problems inherent in early archaeological research including the preconceived ideas of our early excavators - excavation priorities and
funding, differing methods of recording and constantly evolving methods of
analysis have meant that much of our evidence is lacking in substance. Skeletal
analysis and the interpretation of many aspects of the burial rites of these people
are areas replete with uncertainties and opportunities for unsubstantiated
assumptions.
However, despite these biases and the many apparently negative aspects associated
with mortuary archaeology in Britain during the Roman period, the burials of these
people can be remarkably informative. A study of the treatment of the dead, the
disposal of the remains and the actions and reactions of those surviving can
illuminate many areas in the lives of these people. With increasingly accurate
scientific methods of skeletal analysis available, we are very often able to assign
age and gender to many of the inhabitants of the cemetery populations. On the
evidence of specific burial rites and grave goods we can attempt to make
reasonable assumptions regarding ethnic affiliation. Osteoarchaeology allows
anomalies in the bones to be ascribed to specific types of movement, leading to
inferences regarding the activities that a person may have been involved in.
299
Tombstones and the fortuitous survival of remnants of fabric and hair allow us an
insight into the appearance of a few, while grave goods can occasionally give us a
glimpse into the occupation or recreational activities of these people.
In an archaeological context it is very often the ‘different’ that is subjected to
analysis and discussion. We are relatively accustomed to the discovery of
Romano-British cremation and inhumation burials but the reports on these, varying
in quality, are very often consigned to the archives. Whereas, such occurrences as
an unusually high number of infants and children in an adult cemetery, as is found
in the Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester or the entirely male cemetery at Driffield
Terrace, York where the majority had been decapitated often lead to extended
analysis and publication.
Parts 3-5 of this thesis looked at what can be gained from a study of the burial
evidence in regard to the people themselves. The diversity of the population is
evident, not only between different communities but also within individual
communities. The appearance of mausolea, complete with wall paintings, as in the
Poundbury Cemetery, or the provision of coffins of different materials within a
cemetery, can be suggestive of distinct levels within a community. Although the
use of such economically distinct indicators may imply a higher social standing,
what we are unable to do is assign a lower social standing to individuals on the
basis that these things have either not survived in the archaeological record or were
not there in the first place.
The salient point that has emerged from this study is the diversity of the
population in regard to burial practices and the way that the differences between
the communities can be seen in the cemetery populations. Romano-British society
may have provided parameters regarding the rite of burial but within these
parameters there would have been an element of choice, influenced by cultural,
ethnic, social and economic diversity. This would ultimately be responsible for the
wide array of representations of the Romano-British burial rite that we see in the
300
archaeological record. Unfortunately, any ceremony associated with the burial is
generally now invisible to us and the significance of many of the material elements
can only be conjecture.
The Romano-British cemeteries that have been excavated are representative of a
diverse population. As an example the population represented by the Eastern
Cemetery of Roman London appears to be quite different to that from the
Poundbury Cemetery, Dorchester. The evidence from the two communities points
to differing attitudes towards the burial of infants and young children, with far
more of this age group represented at Poundbury than at the London cemetery. The
results of the skeletal analysis of these people also implies a marked difference in
the activities that these two groups may have been involved in. The incidence of
bone trauma in the populations of both the London and the Dorchester cemeteries
indicates relatively peaceful communities with little evidence of violence severe
enough to inflict wounds to the bone. In contrast, as is to be expected, the
cemeteries of York and Cirencester provide evidence of many more instances of
violence attesting to the military nature of the communities.
Addressing demographic issues with the use of mortuary archaeology is an area
that needs careful consideration. With the cemetery populations that we have
available for study from Roman Britain the obvious concern is that they are not
representative of the population as a whole, nor necessarily the community of
which they were a part. They never will be, the perfect archaeological world that
we all seek is never likely to eventuate. Nevertheless, with astute observation and
cautious interpretation, and being mindful of our tendency to make assumptions
without adequate evidence, it is sometimes possible to make some inferences of a
demographic nature. These inferences will very often be limited to the individual
site in question but comparisons can then be made and the jigsaw that is Roman
Britain gradually filled in.
301
In mortuary archaeology, the burial of the adult male and, by association, generally
the adult female, is the model against which anything else is set. This thesis
addresses the representation of infants and children and the elderly in the burial
record of Roman Britain. With both of these groups it was necessary before any
discussion to establish age-defined parameters, this was not easy with such
culturally and socially determined titles. Analysis of the perceived underrepresentation of children was undertaken and preconceived ideas regarding
infanticide during this period questioned. It is argued that, relative to the total
number of burials we have for this period (and the obviously huge numbers of
burials that we don’t have), and the much greater likelihood of destruction over
time of the smaller, fragile bones the small number of children represented is not
necessarily unusual. A comparison was also made between the Romano-British
figures for child burials and those from other historical periods, for which we have
documentary evidence in the form of parish records. Through this avenue it was
possible to determine that there is room for us to at least entertain the possibility
that we could legitimately question the long held belief that so many children are
‘missing’ from the cemeteries of Roman Britain.
The elderly are much more difficult to define and identify in the cemetery
populations. However, skeletal analysis and tombstone dedications, combined with
a certain amount of contemporary literary evidence, allow us to investigate some
aspects of their lives. As far as can be ascertained they suffered from much the
same age-related health problems as the elderly today, arthritis being the
predominant affliction. The lack of welfare related facilities and the agriculturally
based nature of many of the Romano-British communities would have meant that
the elderly would have been involved in community activities throughout their
lifespan.
Evidence from the burials of Roman Britain (with the notable exceptions of the
Trentholme Drive and Driffield Terrace sites in York) indicates that all ages were
represented in the cemeteries but that representation of the young and the elderly
302
varies with every site. The very young were not generally accorded burial in a
recognised cemetery in the Roman world and could be disposed of within the
settlement areas, and indeed the majority of excavated settlement sites from
Roman Britain produce evidence to this effect. However, evidence suggests that it
was probably not against the rules for infants to join the rest of the community in a
recognised cemetery. The Poundbury Cemetery in particular provides evidence of
an age integrated cemetery population where children of all ages are buried
alongside the adults (fig. 6.5). Apart from the accepted beliefs regarding infants
lacking a soul and therefore not needing the ritual of burial, the issue here could
have been a financial one with the cost of a burial plot and funeral generally not
accorded a very young child. The higher number of young children buried in the
Poundbury Cemetery could be indicative of some form of reduced rate for their
burial, some form of subsidy to the family or some other economic or social
inducement. Other cemeteries, notably the Eastern Cemetery of Roman London
and the Baldock Cemetery in Hertfordshire, have provided evidence of the
occasional very elaborate burial of young children and the inclusion in their graves
of culturally significant items.
The cosmopolitan nature of many towns is highlighted by evidence in the form of
funerary monuments and grave goods, and augmented by a limited number of
instances of skeletal analysis. The possibility (reliant on funding) of further work
in the area of DNA and isotope analysis could have enormous implications for the
future of Romano-British population studies by providing evidence of the
geographical background of many of the inhabitants. This could potentially lead,
with the discovery and excavation of further Romano-British cemetery
populations, to the identifiacation of specific communities of immigrants and to
the analysis of integration within the province.
Although the evidence of these cemetery populations points to integrated
communities with regulated attitudes towards burial there are many exceptions to
the rule. As always, to begin with we are working only with what we have. What
303
has been lost cannot be quantified. The long debated question regarding the
whereabouts of the remains of the majority of people who died during this period
cannot be ignored, but there are any number of ways that bodies can ‘disappear’
over time. Many smaller communities of Roman Britain, possibly comprising no
more than a couple of families, display evidence of much less formal burial
practices then is evidenced in the more urban areas. This informality, although not
necessarily indicative of a less reverent attitude towards the deceased, does make
the chances of discovery two thousand years later somewhat slim. We have burial
evidence to suggest that some communities in Britain during this period lived and
died on the fringes of society. Evidence of cave burials, of isolated burials, burials
of individuals or families in unexpected places, all point to the diversity of both the
population and their beliefs and practices.
Very often the chance discovery of a cemetery or group of burials will create more
questions than it answers and rather than add to our knowledge and understanding
it creates even more of an awareness of how little we actually know. The recent
discovery of the ‘execution’ cemetery at Driffield Terrace, York has made us
question some preconceived ideas relating to the rite of decapitation and the
reasons behind it. The predominance of decapitated individuals, the absence of
females and the higher than average stature of these people has led to the tentative
hypothesis that this may have been a military population, killed by execution. The
fact that these decapitations were carried out at least a century earlier than any
others known from Roman Britain is interesting but the less than careful manner of
the decapitation (cut from the back rather than the front) singles this group out as
unique.
For those involved in mortuary studies, particularly of the Romano-British period,
this study presents two foci. Firstly it offers an in depth discussion of the strengths
and weaknesses inherent in the evidence currently available. It gathers together
information from a disparate range of sources, appraises this information and
integrates it with other forms of evidence. It is then used as a basis to explore
304
aspects of the identity of the inhabitants of the province. It creates an awareness of
the potential of mortuary archaeology as an investigative tool and the future
possibilities of the science.
13.2 Future possibilities
The use of scientific approaches to analysis in mortuary archaeology is undeniably
an area of research with enormous potential. Advances in technology, in the areas
of medicine, forensics and genetics, have the potential to allow a much more in
depth analysis of the evidence. Progress is being made, and aspects of skeletal
analysis are benefiting from current research. As an example, studies on human
history can be supported and enhanced by the analysis of DNA. Teeth in particular
provide a reservoir of DNA, preserved, in the main from the ravages of time, and
their potential in this field is immense. Unfortunately, restrictions imposed
curtailing the amount of tooth material available for study (Gibbs 2002: 113) and
limitations encountered by technical problems arising from contamination and
reproducibility of samples has limited studies so far. With DNA testing becoming
relatively commonplace though, costs are declining and its application in the
future will become much more readily available (Gibbs 2002: 122-123).
Improved techniques continually make it easier to investigate disease patterns,
diet, the origin and the sex of individuals from DNA rather than morphologically.
Although at times application of these techniques may be restricted, technically
and financially, the conceivable benefits will only enhance future studies. Not only
will prospective cemetery excavations benefit from these new scientific
approaches, but the opportunity may be there in some cases for earlier excavations
to be reassessed. Old collections always have potential for ongoing studies using
newer techniques and diagnostic criteria and this has major implications for
scholarship. The application of new scientific measures to previous mortuary
studies will hopefully enable some of the biases inherent at the time to be
overcome. The success of this practice has been demonstrated convincingly, with
the publication, in 2004, of the 1960’s excavation of the Roman cemetery at
305
Brougham, Cumbria. This rescue excavation, carried out under trying conditions
almost forty years ago, revealed the largest Roman cemetery associated with a fort
in the north yet unearthed. When the excavation took place time and resources
were limited and the concept of rescue archaeology that we know today had not
evolved. However, working with incomplete records, and even the disappearance
of some items over the years, the application of modern technology to these
remains has allowed the extraction of enormous amounts of new information. This
has enabled publication of the excavations to a high standard.
The possibilities afforded by these advances is indisputable but the value of this
will always be curtailed by the limitations of excavation. As has been shown,
burial evidence from Roman Britain, unfortunately, is not available from a
representative range of contexts; it is not evenly and plentifully distributed across
the province (Pearce 2005: 4).
Resources for dealing with archaeological remains, particularly human remains,
have increased enormously in recent years, but our interpretation is still limited
within the boundaries that archaeology provides. In this area also research
continues. The value of statistical significance tests has been assessed recently by
Cool and Baxter (2005). With the aid of these tests it is possible to determine the
existence of patterns in the data which will then allow more informed
interpretation. These tests were utilised during post-excavation analysis of the
Brougham Cemetery and their use is likely to become more widespread in the
future.
Outside of the material evidence there is an unknown, much of the ritual between
death and burial is unknowable from the archaeological record (Parker Pearson
1999). The disposal of the body after death is symbolic of belief, it is the
interpretation, and the representation, of the belief within a society that is
significant. This belief may be inherent in the population, and a generally universal
concept, but its expression may vary, from specific, elaborate, modes of burial to
306
simple incarceration or exposure in a non-populated area. It is how they interpret
and express a belief that makes a community unique. The interpretation, within
culturally defined parameters, results in an act that is symbolic of their need for
expression. The visible symbols of interpretation and expression of a belief are
qualified culturally, and it is these perceptions which need to be translated and
their meaning deciphered. Symbolic elements such as the deposition of different
material elements within a grave, and variation in the positioning of the body can
reflect differing religious or cultural principles.
Belief can be universal, however interpretation and expression of that belief is
established within cultural boundaries, which may vary and result in symbolic
ritual acts. Archaeological remains of these symbolic steps need careful
interpretation in order to assess, not just the belief patterns of a population, but
cultural variation in interpretation and expression within that population. What we
see in an investigation into the mortuary practices of Roman Britain are the
remains of symbolic acts. These acts convey the interpretation and outward
expression of belief, resulting in a representation of cultural differences within the
Romano-British population.
307
AFTERWORD
__________________________________________________________________
Two thousand years from now what will the archaeologists and anthropologists of
the future be able to say about our lives from the burial evidence available to
them? How many of us will be represented and who of us will that be?
•
Today, in the western world, both inhumation and cremation burials take place.
Restrictions imposed include burial in a coffin in a prescribed burial area or
cremation at a recognised crematorium, generally, beyond that the family is
free to choose. What the deceased is wearing, their appearance, what is buried
with them and the type of service are all elements of the burial that are
individualised. The family of those that are cremated may choose to dispose of
the ashes in many ways. They may be kept in any type of container for any
length of time, they may be buried under the rose bushes, they may be
scattered over the ocean, the mountains or the countryside. A dedicatory
plaque may be utilised but in many cases is not. Those in our society who
command a high profile – politicians, actors, sportsmen, are very often
accorded a public funeral and are likely to have some form of dedication
erected to them, some indication of where they were interred. History will
remember them and archaeology in the future will augment the record. But
what of the bulk of the population, particularly those that are cremated? There
will be very little archaeological trace. From this society though, where
statistical records are maintained, historians and archaeologists will have
names and numbers to work with (assuming they survive). We have no such
statistics from Roman Britain.
•
Muslims are always buried, never cremated. The body is shrouded for burial
and they prefer to bury their dead without a coffin. In Britain some local
authorities allow this practice, however, in general, there is a need to comply
and either burial is in a simple wooden coffin or the body is embalmed and
returned to their homeland (British Medical Journal 1994; 309: 521-523,
308
bmj.com). Consequently, the appearance of the burial conforms with all the
other inhumations, however, the ritual of death, burial and bereavement of the
Muslim is totally unlike that of the, mainly Protestant, bulk of the population.
When time and nature though has taken its course, it is likely that there will be
no way of identifying the Muslim individual as any different from the rest of
the cemetery population.
•
During the early decades of the nineteenth century, when cemeteries in Britain
were overcrowded and space at a premium, various covert efforts at
maximising space were adopted. Graves were frequently reopened and further
coffins added and bodies were regularly exhumed and burnt to prolong the life
of the graveyard (Leaney 1989: 119).
The obvious point from these examples is that appearances can be deceptive.
Roman Britain, not unlike Britain today, had a diverse population, in their
lifestyles, their beliefs and their rituals. The treatment of the dead, the disposal of
the remains and the reactions and actions of those surviving, at any point in
history, has been subject to innumerable variations and these rituals are very often
not evident in the archaeological record.
309
310
BIBLIOGRAPHY.
_________________________________________________________
Abbreviations employed for periodicals in the main bibliography below are those
recommended in the American Journal of Archaeology 95 (1991): 1-16.
Additional items not found there are those recommended by The Council for
British Archaeology.
ANCIENT SOURCES
Caesar, Gallic War, trans. S. A. Handford (1982) (The Conquest of Gaul), London
(Penguin)
Cassius Dio, Roman History, Loeb edn. trans. E. Cary (1914-1927), London
(William Heinemann)
Gildas, De Excidio Brittonum, trans. M. Winterbottom (The Ruin of Britain, and
other works), London (Phillimore)
Pliny The Elder, Natural History, Loeb edn. trans. H. Rockman (1949), London
(William Heinemann)
Pliny The Younger, The Letters, trans. B. Radice (1969) (The Letters of the
Younger Pliny), London (Penguin)
Suetonius, The Lives of the Caesars, trans. Robert Graves (1989) (The Twelve
Caesars), London (Penguin)
Tacitus, Agricola, trans. H. Mattingly, trans. revised by S. A. Handford (1970)
(The Agricola and the Germania), London (Penguin)
REFERENCES
Addeyman, P. V. and Black, V. E. (eds) (1984) Archaeological Papers from York
Presented to M. W. Barley, York (York Archaeological Trust)
Allason-Jones, L. (1989) Women in Roman Britain, London (British Museum
Press)
Allen, M. and Palmer-Brown, C. (2001) Archaeological Evaluation Report: Land
West of Ermine Street, Chapel Heath, Navenby
Ariès, P. (1962) Centuries of Childhood, London (Jonathan Cape)
Austin, R. G. (1934) ‘Roman board games’, GaR 4: 24-34
Bagnall, R. S. and Frier, B. W. (1994) The Demography of Roman Egypt,
Cambridge (CUP)
Bahn, P. (ed.) (2002) Written in Bones, London (Quintet Publishing Ltd)
Baldwin, R. (1985) ‘Intrusive burial groups in the late Roman cemetery at
Lankhills Winchester: A reassessment of the evidence’, OJA 4: 93-104
Ball, W. (2000) Rome in the East: The Transformation of an Empire, London
(Routledge)
311
Balsdon, J. P. V. D. (1969) Life and Leisure in Ancient Rome, London (The
Bodley Head)
Barber, B. and Bowsher, D. (2000) The Eastern Cemetery of Roman London
Excavations 1983-1990, London (MOLAS)
Bassett, S. (ed.) (1992) Death in Towns: Urban Responses to the Dying and the
Dead 100-1600, Leicester (Leicester UP)
Bengtsson, T., Campbell, C., Lee, J., et al. (eds) (2004) Life under Pressure:
Mortality and Living Standards in Europe and Asia, 1700-1900, Cambridge
MA. (MIT)
Bentley, D. and Pritchard, F. (1982) ‘The Roman cemetery at St. Bartholemew’s
Hospital’, TLMAS 33: 134-167
Biddulph, E. (2005) ‘Last orders: Choosing pottery for funerals in Roman Essex’,
OJA 24: 23-45
Biggins, J. A. and Taylor, D. J. A. (2004) ‘Geophysical survey of the vicus at
Birdoswald Roman Fort, Cumbria’, Britannia 35: 159-178
Birley, A. (1979) The People of Roman Britain, London (Batsford)
Birley, A. (2002) Garrison Life at Vindolanda, Stroud (Tempus)
Birley, A. (2005) The Roman Government of Britain, Oxford (OUP)
Bishop, M. C. and Coulson, J. C. (1993) Roman Military Equipment, London
(Batsford)
Blagg, T. F. C. (1990) ‘Architectural munificence in Britain: The evidence of
inscriptions’, Britannia 21: 13-28
Blockley, K. (1985) Marshfield, Ironmongers Piece Excavations 1982-3: An Iron
Age and Romano-British Settlement in the South Cotswolds, Oxford (BAR
British Series 141)
Boddington, A, Garland, A. N. and Jannaway, R. C. (eds) (1987) Death, Decay
and Reconstruction: Approaches to Archaeology and Forensic Science,
Manchester (Manchester UP)
Boswell, J. (1988) The Kindness of Strangers: The Abandonment of Children in
Western Europe from Late Antiquity to the Renaissance, New York (Pantheon
Books)
Bowersock, G. W., Brown, P. and Grabar, O. (1999) Late Antiquity. A Guide to the
Post-Classical World, Cambridge, MA (Harvard UP)
Bowman, A. K. (1994) Life and Letters on the Roman Frontier, London (British
Museum Press)
Bradley, R. and Gordon, K. (1988) ‘Human skulls from the River Thames, their
dating and significance’, Antiquity 62: 503-509
Branigan, K. and Dearne, M. J. (eds) (1992) Romano-British Cavemen: Cave Use
in Roman Britain, Oxford (Oxbow)
Breeze, D. J., Close-Brooks, J. and Ritchie, J. N. G. (1976) ‘Soldiers’ burials at
Camelon, Stirlingshire, 1922 and 1975’, Britannia 7: 73-93
Breeze, D. J. and Dobson, B. (1987) Hadrian’s Wall, 3rd edition, London
(Penguin)
Brothwell, D. (1972) ‘Palaeodemography and earlier British populations’,
WorldArch 4: 75-87
Brothwell, D. (1981) Digging up Bones, Oxford (OUP)
312
Browning, I. (1979) Palmyra, London (Chatto and Windus)
Brunt, P. A. (1971) Italian Manpower 225 BC – AD 14, Oxford (Clarendon Press)
Budd, P., Millard, A., Chenery, C., Lucy, C. and Roberts, C. (2004) ‘Investigating
population movement by stable isotope analysis: a report from Britain’,
Antiquity 78: 127-141
Burl, A. (1981) Rites of the Gods, London (Dent & Sons)
Burleigh, G. R., Fitzpatrick-Matthews, K. J. and Aldhouse-Green, M. J. (2006) ‘A
Dea Nutrix figurine from a Romano-British cemetery at Baldock,
Hertfordshire’, Britannia 37: 273-294
Burnham, B. C. and Wacher, J. (1990) The ‘Small Towns’ of Roman Britain,
London (Batsford)
Calkin, J. B. (1947/48) ‘Two Romano-British burials at Kimmeridge’, PDNHAS
69: 33-41
Chamberlain, A. T. (1997) ‘Commentary: Missing stages of life – towards the
perception of children in archaeology,’ in Moore and Scott 1997: 248-250
Chamberlain, A. T. and Parker Pearson, M. (2001) Earthly Remains: The History
and Science of Preserved Human Bodies, London (British Museum Press)
Chambers, R. A. (1976) ‘A Romano-British settlement at Curbridge’, Oxon 41:
38-55
Chambers, R. A. (1987) ‘The late and sub-Roman cemetery at Queenford Farm,
Dorchester-On-Thames, Oxon.’, Oxon 52: 35-69
Chapman, R. W., Kinnes, I. and Randsborg, K. (eds) (1981) The Archaeology of
Death, Cambridge (CUP)
Charlton, B. and Mitcheson, M. (1984) ‘The Roman cemetery at Petty Knowes,
Rochester’, ArchAel 12: 1-30
Clarke, G. (1979) The Roman Cemetery at Lankhills, Oxford (OUP)
Clarke, S. (1990) ‘The social significance of villa architecture in Celtic North
West Europe’, OJA 9: 337-353
Colledge, M. (1976) The Art of Palmyra, London (Thames and Hudson)
Collingwood, R. G. (1929) ‘Town and country in Roman Britain’, Antiquity 3:
261-276
Collingwood, R. G. and Wright, R. P. (1965) The Roman Inscriptions of Britain,
Vol I: Inscriptions on Stone, Oxford (Clarendon Press)
Cool, H. E. M. (2004) The Roman Cemetery at Brougham, Cumbria, London
(British Monograph Series No. 21)
Cool, H. E. M. and Baxter, M. J. (2005) ‘Cemeteries and significance tests’, JRA
18: 397-404
Cooley, A. (ed.) (2000) The Epigraphic Landscape of Roman Italy, London
(Institute of Classical Studies, School of Advanced Study, University of
London)
Crawford, S. (1999) Childhood in Anglo-Saxon England, Stroud (Sutton)
Crowe, F. (1997) Women in Pre-Roman and Roman Britain. Aspects of the
Mortuary Evidence, Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of Western Australia
Crummy, P. (1993) ‘Aristocratic graves at Colchester’, CA 132: 492-497
Crummy, N., Crummy, P. and Crossan, C. (1993) Colchester Archaeological
Report 9: Excavations of Roman and Later Cemeteries, Churches and Monastic
313
Sites in Colchester, 1971-1988, Colchester (Colchester Archaeological Trust
Ltd)
Cunliffe, B. (1983) Danebury: Anatomy of an Iron Age Hill Fort, London
(Batsford)
Cunliffe, B. (1987) Origins: The Roots of European Civilisation, London (BBC)
Cunliffe, B. (1991) Iron Age Communities in Britain, London (Routledge)
Cunliffe, B. (1997) The Ancient Celts, Oxford (OUP)
Cunliffe, B. (2001) Facing the Ocean: The Atlantic and its Peoples 8000BCAD1500, Oxford (OUP)
Cunliffe, B. (2002) The Extraordinary Voyage of Pytheas the Greek, New York
(Walker)
Cunningham, H. (1995) Children and Childhood in Western Society since 1500,
London (Longman)
Davies, G., Gardner, A. and Lockyear, K. (2001) TRAC 2000: Proceedings of the
Tenth Annual Theoretical Roman Archaeology Conference London 2000,
Oxford (Oxbow)
Davison, C. (2000) ‘Gender imbalances in Romano-British cemetery populations:
A re-evaluation of the evidence’, in Pearce et al. 2000: 231-237
Dawson, M. (1994) A Late Roman Cemetery at Bletsoe, Bedfordshire, Bedford
(Bedfordshire Archaeology Monograph Series No: 1)
de la Bédoyère, G. (1989) The Finds of Roman Britain, London (Batsford)
de Mause, L. (ed.) (1974) History of Childhood, New York (Harper Torchbooks)
Detsicas, A. (1983) The Cantiaci, Gloucester (Sutton)
Dixon, S. (ed.) (2001) Childhood, Class and Kin in the Roman World, London
(Routledge)
Duhig, C. (1993) ‘The skeleton’, in Taylor 1993: 201-202
Dunnett, R. (1975) The Trinovantes, London (Duckworth)
Ehrenberg, M. (1989) Women in Prehistory, London (British Museum Press)
Ellis, S. P. (2000) Roman Housing, London (Duckworth)
Engels, D. (1980) ‘The problem of female infanticide in the Greco-Roman world’,
CP 75: 112-120
Esmonde-Cleary, A. S. (1990) The Ending of Roman Britain, Savage (Barnes and
Noble)
Esmonde-Cleary, A. S. (1992) ‘Town and country in Roman Britain’, in Bassett
1992: 28-42
Evans, E. and Maynard, D. J. (1997) ‘Caerleon Lodge Hill Cemetery: the
Abbeyfield site 1992’, Britannia 28: 169-243
Faerman, M., Bar-Gal, G. K., Filon, D., Greenblatt, C. L., Stager, L., Oppenhein,
A. and Smith, P. (1998) ‘Determining the sex of infanticide victims from the
late Roman era through ancient DNA analysis’, J. Archaeol. Sci. 25: 861-865
Farwell, D. E. and Molleson, T. (1993) Excavations at Poundbury 1966-80, Vol.
II: The Cemeteries, Dorchester (Dorset Natural History and Archaeology
Society Monograph Series II)
Ferris, I. (1995) ‘Insignificant others; images of barbarians on military art from
Roman Britain’, TRAC 4: 24-31
Finley, M. I. (1975) The Use and Abuse of History, London (Chatto and Windus)
314
Finley, M. I. (1981) ‘The elderly in classical antiquity’, GaR 28: 157-71
Fitzpatrick, A. P. (1996) ‘A 1st century AD ‘Durotrigian’ inhumation burial with a
decorated Iron-Age mirror from Portesham, Dorset’, PDNHAS 118: 51-70
Fitzpatrick, A. P. (2002) ‘Roman Britain in 2001’, Britannia 33: 352
Forni, G. (1953) Il Reclutamento delle Legioni da Augusto a Diocleziano, MilanRome
Frere, S. (1987) Britannia, 3rd edition, London (Pimlico)
Frere, S. S. and Tomlin, R. S. O. (eds) (1995) The Roman Inscriptions of Britain
vol II. Instrumentum Domesticum, Fascicule 7 Graffiti on Samian Ware Stroud
(Sutton)
Frier, B. W. (1999) ‘Roman demography’, in Potter and Mattingly 1999: 85-109
Frier, B. W. (2001) ‘More is worse: some observations on the population of the
Roman Empire’, in Scheidel 2001: 139-160
Fulford, M., Clarke, A. and Eckardt, H. (2006) Life and Labour in Late Roman
Silchester: Excavations in Insula ix Since 1997, London (Society for the
promotion of Roman studies)
Galeski, B. (1971) ‘Social organisation and rural social change,’ in Shanin (ed.)
1971: 115-137
Gardner, R. (2005) ‘A Roman cemetery in Clarence Street, Leicester’, LAHS 79:
27-79
Garwood, P., Jennings, D., Skeates, R. and Toms, J. (eds) (1991) Sacred and
Profane: Proceedings of a Conference on Archaeology, Ritual and Religion,
Oxford, 1989, Oxford (Oxford Committee for Archaeology)
Gibbs, D. (2002) A Study of the People of Pre-Roman and Roman Britain,
Unpublished M.A. thesis, University of Western Australia
Gowland, R. (2001) ‘Playing dead: implications of mortuary evidence for the
social construction of childhood in Roman Britain’, in Davies et al. (eds) 2001:
152-167
Grasby, R. D. and Tomlin, R. S. O. (2002) ‘The sepulchral monument of the
procurator C. Julius Classicianus’, Britannia 33: 43-75
Green, C. (1977) ‘The significance of plaster burials for the recognition of
Christian cemeteries’, in Reece 1977: 46-53
Green, M. (1993) ‘A Roman lead coffin with pipeclay figurines from Arrington,
Cambridgeshire’ Britannia 24: 191-209
Green, M. (2003) The Gods of Roman Britain, Princes Risborough (Shire)
Guido, M, (1979) ‘Glass beads’, in Clarke, G. 1979: 292-294
Guido, M. and Mills, J. M. (1993) ‘Beads (jet, glass, crystal and coral)’, in Farwell
and Molleson 1993: 100-102
Gurney, D. (1998) Roman Burials in Norfolk, Dereham (East Anglian Occasional
Paper 4) (Field Archaeology Division Norfolk Museums Service)
Hagelberg, E. (2005) ‘DNA’, Antiquity 79: 196-199
Hales, S. (2003) The Roman House and Social Identity, Cambridge (CUP)
Hannestad, N. (1988) Roman Art and Imperial Policy, Aarhus (Aarhus University
Press)
315
Härke, H. (1997) ‘The nature of burial data’, in Jensen and Neilson 1997: 19-27
Harman, M., Lambrick, G., Miles, D. and Rowley, T. (1978) ‘Roman burials
around Dorchester-on-Thames’, Oxon 43: 1-16
Harman, M., Molleson, T. I. and Price, J. L. (1981) ‘Burials, bodies and
beheadings in Romano-British and Anglo-Saxon Cemeteries’, Bulletin of the
British Museum (Natural History) Geology Series 35: 145-188
Harris, B. E. (ed.) (1987) The History of the County of Chester, I, Oxford (OUP)
Harris, W. V. (1982) ‘The theoretical possibility of extensive infanticide in the
Graeco-Roman World’, CQ 32: 114-116
Harris, W. V. (1989) Ancient Literacy, Cambridge, MA (Harvard UP)
Harris, W. V. (1994) ‘Child-exposure in the Roman Empire’, JRS 84: 1-22
Hassall, M. W. C and Tomlin, R. S. O. (1977) ‘Roman Britain in 1976’, Britannia
8: 430-431
Hayman, G. and Reynolds, A. (2005) ‘A Saxon and Saxo-Norman execution
cemetery at 42-54 London Road, Staines’, ArchJ 62: 215-255
Henig, M. (1984) Religion in Roman Britain, London (Batsford)
Henig, M. (1995) The Art of Roman Britain, London (Batsford)
Higham, N and Jones, B. (1985) The Carvetii, Gloucester (Sutton)
Hill, E. W., Jobling, M. A. and Bradley, D. G. (2000) ‘Y-chromosome variation
and Irish origins’, Nature 404: 351-352
Holder, P. (1982) The Roman Army in Britain, London (Batsford)
Hope, V. (1997) ‘Words and pictures: the interpretation of Romano-British
tombstones’, Britannia 28: 245-258
Hope, V. (2000) ‘Fighting for identity: the funerary commemoration of Italian
gladiators’, in Cooley 2000: 93-113
Hope, V. (2003) ‘Remembering Rome’, in Williams 2003: 113-140
Hopkins, K. (1966) ‘On the probable age structure of the Roman population’,
Population Studies XX: 245-264
Hopkins, K. (1987) ‘Graveyards for historians’, in F. Hinard (ed.) La mort, les
morts et l’au-delà dans le monde romain, Caen (University of Caen): 113-126
Houlbrooke, R. (ed.) (1989) Death, Ritual and Bereavement, London (Routledge)
Hume, N. (1956) ‘Ritual burials on the Upchurch Marshes’, ArchCant LXX: 160167
Hunter, F. (2003) ‘Funerary lions in Roman provincial art’ in P. Noelke (ed.)
Romanisation und Resistenz in Plastik, Architektur und Inschriften der
Provinzen des Imperium Romanum Neue Funde und Forschungen, Mainz (von
Zabern): 59-65
Hunter, F. and Collard, M. (1997) ‘The Cramond Lioness’, CA 155: 404-407
Hunter, J., Roberts, C. and Martin. A. (1996) Studies in Crime: An Introduction to
Forensic Archaeology, London (Batsford)
Hutton, R. (2004) ‘What did happen to Lindow Man?’ in The Times Literary
Supplement; January 30th
Ireland, S. (1996) Roman Britain. A Sourcebook, 2nd ed. London (Routledge)
Izagirre, N., Artiach, P. and de la Rue, C. (2000) ‘Morphological and molecular
evolution in prehistoric skeletal populations’, in Renfrew and Boyle 2000: 197201
316
Jackson, P. (1995) ‘Footloose in archaeology’, CA 144: 466
Jensen, C. K. and Neilson, K. H. (eds) (1997) Burial and Society: The
Chronological and Social Analysis of Archaeological Burial Data, Aarhus
(Aarhus UP)
Jones, G. and Jones, T. (1993) The Mabinogion, London (Dent)
Jones, M. E. (1996) The End of Roman Britain, New York (Cornell UP)
Jones, M. J. (2002) Roman Lincoln: Conquest, Colony and Capital, Stroud
(Tempus)
Jones, R. F. J. (1977) ‘A quantitive approach to Roman burial’, in Reece 1997: 2025
Jones, R. F. J. (1984) ‘The cemeteries of Roman York’, in Addeyman and Black
1984: 34-42
Jones, R. F. J. (1987) ‘Burial customs of Rome and the provinces’, in Wacher
1987: 812-831
Jones, B. and Mattingly, D. (1990) An Atlas of Roman Britain, Oxford (Blackwell)
Kanowski, M. (1987) Old Bones: Unlocking Archaeological Secrets, Melbourne
(Longman Cheshire Pty Ltd)
Kempe, D. (1988) Living Underground: A History of Cave and Cliff Dwelling,
London (The Herbert Press)
Keppie, L. (1998) The Making of the Roman Army from Republic to Empire, rev.
ed., London (Routledge)
Kyle, D. G. (1998) Spectacles of Death in Ancient Rome, London (Routledge)
Landers, J. (1993) Death and the Metropolis: Studies in the Demographic History
of London 1670-1830, Cambridge (CUP)
Leech, R. (1981) ‘The excavation of a Romano-British farmstead and cemetery on
Bradley Hill, Somerton, Somerset’, Britannia 12: 177-252
Leech, R. (1982) Excavations at Catsgore 1970-1973: A Romano-British Village,
Bristol (Western Archaeological Trust)
Leaney, J. (1989) ‘Ashes to ashes: Cremation and the celebration of death in
nineteenth-century Britain’, in Houlbrooke 1989: 118-135
Lethbridge, T. C. (1936) ‘Further excavations in the early Iron-Age and RomanoBritish cemetery at Guilden Morden’, PCAS 36: 109-120
Lynch, P. (2003) Mortuary Archaeology in Roman Britain: An Evaluation of the
Evidence, Unpublished B.A. dissertation, University of Western Australia
MacDonald, J. (1977) ‘Pagan religions and burial practices in Roman Britain’, in
Reece, R (ed.) 1977: 35-38
MacDonald, J. (1979) ‘Religion’, in Clarke 1979: 404-433
Mackinder, A. (2000) A Romano-British Cemetery on Watling Street, London
(MoLAS)
Manchester, K. (1987) ‘Skeletal evidence for health and disease’, in Boddington et
al. 1987: 163-179
Manchester, K. (1992) ‘The palaeopathology of urban infections’, in Bassett 1992:
8-14
Manchester, K. and Roberts, C. (2005) The Archaeology of Disease, 3rd ed., Ithaca,
New York (Cornell University Press)
Mann, J. C. (1985) ‘Epigraphic consciousness’, JRS 75: 204-206
317
Mann, J. C. (2002) ‘The settlement of veterans discharged from auxiliary units
stationed in Britain’, Britannia 33: 183-188
Mattingly, D. (2004) ‘Being Roman: expressing identity in a provincial setting’,
JRA 17: 5-25
Mattingly, D. (2006) An Imperial Possession: Britain in the Roman Empire,
London (Penguin)
May, J. (1996) Dragonby: Report on Excavations at an Iron Age and RomanoBritish Settlement in North Lincolnshire, Oxbow Monograph 61, Oxford
(Oxbow)
Mays, S. (1993) ‘Infanticide in Roman Britain’, Antiquity 67: 883-888
Mays, S. (1998) The Archaeology of Human Bones, London (Routledge)
Mays, S. (nd) A database of archaeological sites yielding human skeletal remains
in England, Portsmouth (English Heritage)
Mays, S. and Steele, J. (1996) ‘A mutilated human skull from Roman St Albans,
Hertfordshire, England’, Antiquity 70: 155-161
McEvoy, B., Richards, M., Forster, P. and Bradley, D. G. (2004) ‘The
LongueDurée of genetic ancestry: Multiple genetic marker systems and Celtic
origins on the Atlantic façade of Europe’, Am. J. Hum. Genet. 75: 693-702
McGavin, N. (1980) ‘A Roman cemetery and trackway at Stanton Harcourt’, Oxon
45: 112-123
McKinley, J. (2000) ‘Phoenix rising: aspects of cremation in Roman Britain’, in
Pearce et al. 2000: 38-44
McWhirr, A., Viner, L. and Wells, C. (1982) Romano-British Cemeteries at
Cirencester: Cirencester Excavations II, Cirencester (Cirencester Excavation
Committee)
McWilliam, J. (2001) ‘Children among the dead’, in Dixon 2001: 74-97
Meates, G. W. (1987) The Roman Villa at Lullingstone, Kent, Vol. II: The Wall
Paintings and Finds, Maidstone (Kent Archaeological Society)
Merrifield, R. (1983) London: City of the Romans, London (Batsford)
Metcalf, P. and Huntington, R. (1991) Celebrations of Death: The Anthropology of
Mortuary Ritual 2nd ed., Cambridge (CUP)
Meyer, E. (1990) ‘Explaining the epigraphic habit in the Roman Empire’, JRS 80:
74-90
Millett, M. (1990) The Romanization of Britain: An Essay in Archaeological
Interpretation, Cambridge (CUP)
Minois, G. (1989) History of Old Age, Chicago (U Chicago Press)
Monaghan, J. (1993) Roman Pottery from the Fortress: 9 Blake Street, York
(CBA)
Moore, J. and Scott, E. (eds) (1997) Invisible People and Processes, London
(Leicester University Press)
Moreland, J. (2001) Archaeology and Text, London (Duckworth)
Morris, I. (1987) Burial and Ancient Society: The Rise of the Greek City State,
Cambridge (CUP)
Morris, I. (1992) Death-Ritual and Social Structure in Classical Antiquity,
Cambridge (CUP)
318
Munby, J. and Henig, M. (eds) (1997) Roman Life and Art in Roman Britain, II,
Oxford (BAR British Series 41)
Niblett, R. (2002) ‘Roman cemeteries of Verulamium’, CA 182: 68-75
Orser, E. and Fagan, M. (1995) Historical Archaeology, New York (Harper
Collins)
O’Shea, J. M. (1984) Mortuary Variability: An Archaeological Investigation,
Orlando (Academic Press Inc)
O’Sullivan, T. D. (1978) The De Excidio of Gildas: Its Authenticity and Date,
Leiden (Brill)
Ottaway, P. (2005) 1-3 Driffield Terrace, York: Assessment Report on an
Archaeological Excavation, York (York Archaeological Trust)
Parker Pearson, M. (1999) The Archaeology of Death and Burial, Stroud (Sutton)
Parkin, T. G. (1992) Demography and Roman Society, Baltimore (John Hopkins
UP)
Parkin, T. G. (2003) Old Age in the Roman world, Baltimore (Johns Hopkins UP)
Partridge, C. (1981) Skeleton Green. A Late Iron Age and Romano-British Site,
London (Britannia Monograph Series 2)
Pearce, J. (2001) ‘Infants, cemeteries and communities in the Roman provinces’,
TRAC 2000: 125-142
Pearce, J. (2005) Report of Element 5: Studio dei rapporti tra Centro e Periferia
dell’Impero, www. classics.cam.ac.uk/burials/cambridgereport.pdf
Pearce, J., Millett, M. and Struck, M. (eds) (2000) Burial, Society and Context in
the Roman World, Oxford (Oxbow)
Penn, W. S. (1967) ‘Possible evidence from Springhead for the Great Plague of
AD 166’, ArchCant 82: 263-271
Phillips, E. J. (1975) ‘The gravestone of M. Favonius Facilis at Colchester’,
Britannia 6:102-105
Phillips, E. J. (1976) ‘A world of Roman sculptors at Carlisle’, Britannia 7: 101108
Philpott, R. (1991) Burial Practices in Roman Britain: A Survey of Grave
Treatment and Furnishings AD 43-410, Oxford (BAR British Series 219)
Piggott, S. (1989) Ancient Britons and the Antiquarian Imagination, London
(Thames and Hudson)
Pobé, M. (1961) The Art of Roman Gaul, London (The Galley Press Ltd)
Potter, D. S. and Mattingly, D. J. (eds) (1999) Life, Death and Entertainment in
the Roman Empire, Ann Arbor (University of Michigan Press)
Prag, J. and Neave, R. (1997) Making Faces: Using Forensic and Archaeological
Evidence, London (British Museum PRESS)
Rahtz, P. (1991) Invitation to Archaeology, Oxford (Blackwell)
Rahtz, P., Dickinson, T. and Watts, L. (eds) (1980) Anglo Saxon Cemeteries 1979,
Oxford (BAR British Series 82)
Ramm, H. (1978) The Parisi, London (Duckworth)
Rawson, B. (1997) ‘Representations of Roman children and childhood’, Antichton
31: 74-95
Rawson, B. (2003) Children and Childhood in Roman Italy, Oxford (OUP)
319
Reece, R. (ed.) (1977) Burial in the Roman World, London (CBA Research Report
no 22)
Reece, R. (2000) ‘Afterword’, in Pearce et al. 2000: 270-272
Renfrew, C. (1987) Archaeology and Language: The Puzzle of Indo-European
Origins, London (Cape)
Renfrew, C. (2001) ‘From molecular genetics to archaeogenetics’, PNAS 98: 48304832
Renfrew, C. and Bahn, P. (2000) Archaeology: Theories Methods and Practice,
4th ed., London (Thames and Hudson)
Renfrew, C. and Boyle, K. (2000) Archaeogenetics: DNA and the population
Prehistory of Europe, Cambridge (McDonald Institute for Archaeological
Research)
Rodwell, W. (ed.) (1980) Temples, Churches and Religion in Roman Britain,
Oxford (BAR British Series 77)
Ross, A. (1967) Pagan Celtic Britain, London (RKP)
Ross, A. (1970) The Pagan Celts, Totowa, NJ (Barnes and Noble)
Saller, R. and Shaw, B. (1984) ‘Tombstones and Roman family relations in the
Principate: civilians, soldiers and slaves’, JRS 74: 124-146
Salway, P. (1997) A History of Roman Britain, Oxford (OUP)
Sargent, D. (2002) ‘The neonatal line and archaeology’, CA: 181: 27
Scheidel, W. (1996) Measuring Sex, Age and Death in the Roman Empire:
Explorations in Ancient Demography, Ann Arbor, MI (JRA Supplementary
Series 21)
Scheidel, W. (ed.) (2001) Debating Roman Demography, Leiden (Brill)
Schwartz, J. H. (1995) Skeleton Keys: An Introduction to Human Skeletal
Morphology, Development and Analysis, Oxford (OUP)
Scott, E. (1991) ‘Animal and infant burials in Romano-British villas: a
revitalization movement’, in Garwood et al. 1991: 115-121
Scott, E. (2001) ‘Unpicking a myth: the infanticide of female and disabled infants
in antiquity’, TRAC 2000: 143-151
Scullard, H. H. (1979) Roman Britain: Outpost of the Empire, London (Thames
and Hudson)
Shanin, T. (ed.) (1971) Peasants and Peasant Societies, Harmondsworth (Penguin)
Shaw, B. D. (1996) ‘Seasons of Death: Aspects of mortality in imperial Rome’,
JRS 86: 100-138
Siegel, J. S. (1980) ‘On the demography of the aging’, Demography 17: 345-64
Smith, J. T. (1982) ‘Villa plans and social structure in Britain and Gaul’,
Caesarodunum 17: 321-336
Smith, J. T. (1997) Roman Villas: A Study in Social Structure, London (Routledge)
Start, M. (2002) ‘The Human Remains from Barnetby Le Wold, Lincolnshire’,
Archaeological excavation report: Phase 5, The Bridles, St Barnabas Road,
Barnetby Le Wold, North Lincolnshire, Lincoln (Pre-Construct Archaeology)
Stead, I. M. (1976) Excavations at Winterton Roman Villa and other Roman sites
in North Lincolnshire 1958-1967, London (HMSO)
Stead, I. M., Bourke, J. B. and Brothwell, D. (1986) Lindow Man: The Body in the
Bog, London (British Museum Publications)
320
Stirland, A. (1986) Human Bones in Archaeology, Aylesbury (Shire)
Struck, M. (2000) ‘High status burials in Roman Britain (first-third century AD): a
potential interpretation’, in Pearce et al. 2000: 85-96
Swan, V. G. (1992) ‘Legio VI and its men: African legionaries in Britain’, Journal
Roman Pottery Studies 5: 1-33
Tainter, J. A. (1975) ‘Social inference and mortuary practices: an experiment in
numerical classification,’ World Archaeology vol 7: 1-14
Taylor, A. (1993) ‘A Roman lead coffin with pipeclay figurines from Arrington,
Cambridgeshire’, Britannia 24: 191-226
Taylor, A. (2001) Burial Practice in Early England, Stroud (Tempus)
Thomas, C. (1999) ‘Laid to rest on a pillow of bay leaves’ British Archaeology 50:
(www.britarch.ac.uk/ba/ba50/ba50feat.html)
Todd, M. (1973) The Coritani, London (Duckworth)
Todd, M. (ed.) (2004) A Companion to Roman Britain, London (Blackwell)
Toller, H. (1977) Roman Lead Coffins and Ossuaria in Britain, Oxford (BAR
British Series 38)
Tomlin, R. S. O. (1998) ‘Roman manuscripts from Carlisle: the ink-written
tablets’, Britannia 29: 31-84
Tomlin, R. S. O. (2003) ‘The girl in question: a new text from Roman London’,
Britannia 34: 41-51
Tomlin, R. S. O. and Hassell, M. W. C. (2005) ‘Inscriptions’, Britannia 36: 473477
Toynbee, J. (1963) Art in Roman Britain, London (Phaidon)
Toynbee, J. (1964) Art in Britain under the Romans, Oxford (Clarendon)
Toynbee, J. (1971) Death and Burial in the Roman World, London (Thames and
Hudson)
Tucker, K. (forthcoming) Analysis of the Inhumations, Cremations and
Disarticulated Human Bone from sites at 1-3 Driffield Terrace, 6 Driffield
Terrace and 129 The Mount, York
Turner, R. (1990) ‘A Romano-British cemetery at Lanchester, Durham’, ArchAel
18: 63-77
Ubelaker, D. H. (1989) Human Skeletal Remains: Excavation, Analysis and
Interpretation, 2nd ed., Washington, DC (Taraxacum)
Van Driel-Murray, C. (2001) ‘Vindolanda and the dating of Roman footwear’,
Britannia 32: 185-197
Wacher, J. (1969) Excavations at Brough-on-Humber 1958-1961, London (Society
of Antiquaries)
Wacher, J. (1974) The Towns of Roman Britain, 2nd ed., London (Batsford)
Wacher, J. (1987) The Roman World, London (RKP)
Wacher, J. (1998) Roman Britain, Stroud (Sutton)
Waldron, H., Mackie, A. and Townshend, A. (1976) ‘The lead content of some
Romano-British bones’, Archaeometry 18: 221-227
Waldron, T. (1982) ‘Human bone lead concentrations’, in McWhirr et al. 1982:
203-204
Waldron, T. (1987) ‘The relative survival of the human skeleton: implications for
palaeopathology’, in Boddington et al. 1987: 221-227
321
Walker, S. (1985) Memorials to the Roman Dead, London (British Museum Press)
Watson, S. (2003) An Excavation in the Western Cemetery of Roman London,
London (MoLAS)
Watts, D. (1989) ‘Infant burials and Romano-British Christianity’, ArchJ 146:
372-383
Watts, D. (1998) Religion in Late Roman Britain: Forces of Change, London
(Routledge)
Watts, D. (2001) ‘The silent minority: women in Romano-British cemeteries’,
ArchJ 158: 332-347
Watts, D. (2005) Boudicca’s Heirs, London (Routledge)
Watts, L. and Leach, P. (1996) Henley Wood, Temples and Cemetery Excavations
1962 -69 by the Late Ernest Greenfield and Others, York (CBA Research
Report 99)
Webster, G. (1975) The Cornovii, London (Duckworth)
Wells, C. (1964) Bones, Bodies and Disease, London (Thames and Hudson)
Wells, C. (1981) ‘Report on three series of Romano-British cremations and four
inhumations from Skeleton Green’, in Partridge 1981: 277-304
Wenham, L. P. (1968) The Romano-British Cemetery at Trentholme Drive, York,
London, (HMSO)
Wheeler, H. (1985) ‘The Racecourse Cemetery’, Derbyshire Archaeological
Journal 105: 222-280
Whimster, R. (1981) Burial Practices in Iron-Age Britain: A Discussion and
Gazetteer of the Evidence c700BC-AD43, Oxford (BAR British Series 90)
Wightman, E. M. (1985) Gallia Belgica, London (Batsford)
Wiedemann, T. E. J. (1986) ‘Between men and beasts: barbarians in Ammianus
Marcellinus’ in I. S., Moxon, J. D. Smart and A. J. Woodward (eds) Past
Perspectives. Studies in Greek and Roman Historical Writing, Cambridge
(CUP): 189-201
Wiedemann, T. E. J. (1989) Adults and Children in the Roman Empire, London
(Routledge)
Wiedemann, T. E. J. (1992) Emperors and Gladiators, London (Routledge)
Wild, J. P. (1965) ‘A Roman silk damask from Kent’, ArchCant LXXX: 246-250
Wild, J. P. (1970) Textile Manufacture in the Northern Roman Provinces,
Cambridge (CUP)
Wild, J. P. (1985) ‘The clothing of Britannia, Gallia Belgica and Germania
Inferior’, in H. Temporini and W. Haase (eds), Aufstieg und NiedergangDer
Rőmischen Welt, Berlin and New York (Walter De Gruyter), vol. II.12.3: 362422
Wild, J. P. (2002) ‘Textiles of Roman Britain’, Britannia 33: 1-42
Wild, J. P. (2004) ‘Textiles and dress’, in Todd 2004: 299-308
Williams, H. (ed.) (2003) Archaeologies of Remembrance: Death and Memory in
Past Societies, New York (Kluwer Academic/Plenum Publishers)
Wilson, J. F., Weiss, D. A., Richards, M., Thomas, M. G., Bradman, N. and
Goldstein, D. B. (2001) ‘Genetic evidence for different male and female roles
during cultural transitions in the British Isles’, PNAS 98: 5078-5083
322
Wilson, R. (2002) A Guide to the Roman Remains in Britain, 4th ed., London
(Constable)
Woolf, G. (1996) ‘Monumental writing and the expansion of Roman society in the
early empire’, JRS 86: 22-39
Wright, R. P. (1977) ‘A Roman veterinary physician from the Thames Valley’,
Britannia 8: 279-282
Wright, R. P., Hassall, W. C. and Tomlin, R. S. O. (1976) ‘Inscriptions’, Britannia
7
Wrigley, E. A., Davies, R. S., Oeppen, J. E. and Schofield, R. S. (1997) English
Population History from Family Reconstitution 1580-1837, Cambridge (CUP)
323