Roman Tombstones and Epitaphs: A Window into Ancient Life and Death
Roman tombstones and epitaphs offer a unique glimpse into the lives, identities, and societal values of ancient Romans. These markers, from simple inscriptions to grand mausoleums, reveal patterns of social status, family life, professional achievements, and even personal philosophies. This article explores the intricate world of Roman tombs and epitaphs, shedding light on commemoration practices, tomb design, epitaph components, and the rich stories contained within these ancient monuments.
Patterns of Commemoration
While wealthy Romans could afford elaborate tombs, the poor were often buried with little or no marker. Many impoverished Romans were interred in reused vases or beneath loose tiles with only a wooden post or a simple grave marker to identify the site. An ancient potter’s field, sprawling outside one of Rome’s gates, was filled with the bones of those too poor to afford burial plots, underscoring the social inequalities that extended even beyond death.
Interestingly, commemoration was more common for certain social groups than others. Women who died shortly after marriage were frequently honored with monuments, while young children’s graves often went unmarked, especially for girls. Freedmen—formerly enslaved people who gained their freedom—were especially likely to commission tombs as a way to assert their new status. Soldiers, veterans, and affluent Romans more frequently left behind detailed epitaphs and monuments, recording the achievements of their military or public service careers.
Roman Tomb Design
The most common tomb type in ancient Rome was a simple upright stone slab, though styles varied by region and era. In Mauretania, barrel-shaped stelae were common, while Lusitania favored sculptures of bulls and bears. During the second century, cremation was prevalent in Italy and other western provinces, with ashes stored in urns placed in small funerary altars or columbaria. As inhumation became more popular in the late second century, sarcophagi gained prominence, becoming the central feature of many graves.
Key Components of a Roman Epitaph
Roman epitaphs followed a typical structure, usually beginning with the phrase “DM” (Dis Manibus), which means “to the spirits of the departed.” The deceased’s name was almost always included, and age at death was frequently noted, though often approximated to the nearest multiple of five or ten. While the epitaph’s purpose was to honor the dead, the deceased’s lifespan was not given with great precision; rather, it was often recorded as “plus minus” or “more or less.”
In some cases, the person who commissioned the tomb—often a spouse or close family member—would include their name as a way of honoring the deceased. Occupational details, native place, and lineage were also common additions, along with any relevant clauses from the deceased’s will. Warnings about fines for defacing the tomb were sometimes inscribed as deterrents to grave robbers. Additionally, a popular farewell phrase, “sit tibi terra levis” (“may the earth lie lightly upon you”), or the abbreviated “HMHNS” (“hoc monumentum heredibus non sequetur,” meaning “this monument will not pass to my heirs”) sometimes concluded the epitaph.
A Record of Unique Lives and Careers
Roman epitaphs are rich with historical information about ordinary citizens. These inscriptions reveal a range of occupations not often mentioned in literary sources, from aqueduct engineers and oracle interpreters to fanatics whose roles included exciting crowds at sacred events. One epitaph commemorates a “medicus equarius et venator,” a veterinarian who also fought as a gladiator. Another honors a man described as a glass ball juggler who performed in public baths, while yet another marks the success of a farm laborer who rose to city councilor. Even enslaved individuals who worked in the imperial household were sometimes honored with tombs, and the occupations of their own enslaved staff, from secretaries to stewards, were recorded as a testament to their status.
The epitaphs of imperial household members also give us insight into the lives of those who served the Roman emperors. Tombs record the names and occupations of many such people, including hairdressers, masseuses, chefs, librarians, and supervisors of food tasters. Some, like the high-ranking slave accountant of Emperor Tiberius, were even commemorated by their own staff of enslaved individuals, highlighting the stratified hierarchy within the imperial household.
Soldiers, Veterans, and Remarkable Women
Military inscriptions offer a glimpse into the lives of Roman soldiers, highlighting the diversity of experiences within the army. One epitaph records the brief career of a teenage Praetorian Guard who died while on an expedition with Emperor Hadrian. In contrast, another describes a veteran centurion who served across thirteen legions over forty-six years. The detailed inscription of a legionary includes every position he held, from prison guard to record-keeper, illustrating the variety of roles within the Roman military. A particularly striking epitaph tells of a Batavian Horse Guard, celebrated for his ability to swim across the Danube in full armor and to shoot arrows so quickly that he could pierce one with another before it fell.
Women’s epitaphs, while generally less detailed, sometimes reveal intimate and touching aspects of Roman society. Many women were memorialized primarily in terms of their roles as wives or mothers. For instance, a senator dedicated an epitaph to his wife, praising her for saving him during the political purges of the Second Triumvirate. In another, a husband mourns his spouse, recalling how he “lived with her for 40 years without any cause for complaint.” In rare cases, epitaphs reveal unusual relationships, such as one honoring a woman who lived harmoniously with two male lovers, hinting at a social flexibility in personal relationships that might have been more common than literary sources suggest.
Tragic Demises and Emotional Farewells
Occasionally, epitaphs noted the cause of death, often tragic or dramatic. Some soldiers died heroically in battles or while fighting fires, while others fell due to misfortune—a mosaicist fell off a ladder, a boxer died in the ring, and a boy was poisoned by his stepmother. Other epitaphs reflect bitterness, such as the curses inscribed to ward off tomb robbers. One epitaph curses anyone who disturbs the tomb, wishing them blindness and suffering, while another states, “If anyone disturbs my remains, may he live a long time in agony, and then be denied by the gods below when he dies.”
Despite these occasional moments of bitterness, some epitaphs convey philosophies of acceptance or even humor. One man wrote, “I used to die on stage—but never like this!” showing a sense of levity about death. Philosophical resignation appears in inscriptions like “I was not, I was; I am not, I care not.” Others embrace the Epicurean maxim, urging the living to “mix the wine, wear garlands, and drink wherever you are—and don’t forget to make love to beautiful women!”
One of the most poignant epitaphs belongs to a plasterer named Pompeius Catussa, who memorialized his wife with the words, “Go visit the Baths of Apollo, as I used to with my wife. I wish I still could.” This simple yet powerful statement resonates across the centuries, providing a deeply human connection between past and present.
Conclusion
Roman tombstones and epitaphs provide a wealth of information about the lives and values of ancient Romans, preserving stories that might otherwise have been lost to history. Through these stones, we glimpse their joys, struggles, professions, and relationships, along with the profound impact of death on those they left behind. These memorials offer a rare and invaluable insight into the ancient Roman world, reminding us of the continuity of human experience through time.
