In the Roman Empire, a fascinating discovery challenges the notion that babies were not to be mourned. The truth, as revealed by rare gypsum burials, is far more emotional and complex.
Researchers have uncovered evidence that contradicts the legal sources of the time. It seems that the mysterious practice of pouring liquid gypsum over the deceased, previously thought to be reserved for elite adults, was also extended to children, even infants as young as one month old. This finding shatters the belief that infants were not grieved, as historical records suggest.
Maureen Carroll, a Roman archaeologist, explains that while public mourning for infants was restricted, private grief and loss were very much felt and expressed by families. This distinction is crucial in understanding the emotional lives of ancient Romans.
Among the many gypsum burials studied by Carroll, at least seven belonged to children, including three infants under four months old. The practice seems to have been a privilege of the Roman elite in York, with infants often buried in more humble ways, such as amphorae, ceramic tile boxes, or small wooden coffins.
One extraordinary infant burial, discovered during the construction of the York Railway in 1892, showcases the care and love given to these tiny lives. A newborn, just one or two months old, was wrapped in a brilliant purple-and-gold cloak, adorned with gold thread and tassels, before being placed in a lead sarcophagus and covered in liquid gypsum. The cloak, made from animal fiber, likely wool, was a beautiful and unique burial shroud.
The project team, including chemists and textile experts, is now analyzing the hardened gypsum and the purple dye to uncover more secrets. They seek evidence of aromatic substances like frankincense or mastic, and plan to determine if the dye came from the murex snail, a source of natural reddish-purple dye for the ancient Romans. Even the gold threads will be scrutinized.
Other liquid-gypsum burials found in York reveal intimate details of family life. One child, about four months old, was discovered wrapped between the legs of two adults, suggesting a close association in life and death. Another burial, of a girl aged seven to nine, included an array of precious jewelry and even the bones of a pet chicken, indicating a life of comfort and affection.
These burials challenge the notion that Roman legal texts accurately reflected the reality of life and death in Roman Britain. They paint a picture of a society that valued and cared for its youngest members, contrary to the age-old belief that Romans were indifferent to infant mortality.
Carroll exclaims, "Utter nonsense!" to the idea that Romans did not care when their infants died. These lavish burials tell a different story, one of love, grief, and the deep emotional bonds that transcend time and culture.
And this is just the beginning. What other secrets do these gypsum burials hold? What more can we learn about the lives and deaths of ancient Romans? The research continues, inviting us to explore and question our understanding of history.
