Roman Sepulchral Inscriptions

The memorials of the dead hold a remarkable place among the materials of history. The very existence of nations is in many cases attested only by their sepulcral monuments, which serve to trace the course of their migrations, and yield us a scanty knowledge of their usages, and of the state of civilization among them. Where the art of writing has been unknown, this knowledge must, indeed, be vague and inferential; we may gather the race from the form of the skull, the rank or occupation from the contents of the grave; but we learn nothing of the individual character or social relations of its tenant; he is only one of the countless multitude who

illacrimabiles Urguentur ignotique longa Nocte.

Even among nations who have possessed the art of writing, and used it profusely for sepulcral purposes, we may be disappointed in the hope of gaining any idea of individual character from inscriptions on the dead. From the hieroglyphics with which the Egyptian mummies and funeral tablets are covered we seldom learn more than the state and function of the deceased. The Greek inscriptions are more communicative, but their [Greek: epigrammata epitymbia], of which so large a number are preserved in the Anthology, are rather poetical exercises than the expression of genuine, personal sentiment; and those which have come down to us in brass or marble are brief and meagre.

Roman sepulcral monuments of the republican times are rare; but those of the family of Scipio,[1] the earliest with which we are acquainted, exhibit a character entirely different from the Greek. They at once display the genius of the people, and give a picture of strong individuality. The following Saturnian verses are inscribed on the tomb of Publius Scipio, the son of the great Africanus.

Quei apicem, insigne Dialis Flaminis, gesistei Mors perfecit tua ut tibi essent omnia brevia, Honos, fama virtusque, gloria atque ingenium. Quibus sei in longa licuisset tibi utier vita Facile facteis superasses gloriam majorum. Quare lubens te in gremium, Scipio, recipit Terra, Publi, prognatum Publio, Corneli.

In the imperial times sepulcral inscriptions became very numerous, especially as cremation fell into disuse, and the sarcophagus took the place of the urn, which rarely exhibits any designation of the person whose ashes it contains. They have furnished the philologer, the archæologist, and the historian, with a multitude of materials for their respective branches of study. The site of Eburacum has supplied a considerable number of them, some of which have perished or been removed,[2] while others are contained in the Museum of the Yorkshire Philosophical Society. With the exception of one, they are formal and jejune; yet the fact that the Society possesses so many may lead its members to take an interest in an attempt to illustrate the whole subject from the more ample treasures of other collections.

What has been said of the general brevity and dryness of our own inscriptions is true of those found in England generally. There are very few in the collections of Horsley and his successors, which are distinguished either by their execution or their style. For the most part they are a simple record of the age and status of the deceased, a large proportion being the tombs of military men. The number and character of sepulcral monuments are an index of the population and wealth of a district or country; their language, of the prevalence of the Roman dominion. Rome, of course, has furnished the largest number. The north of Italy, when it ceased to be Gallic, became entirely Roman; and its chief cities, Verona, Milan, Brescia, Padua, have proved more productive of Latin inscriptions than the south, where the Greek language was extensively used. The southern parts of Gaul early became a Roman province; and its cities are full of Roman antiquities, among which inscriptions bear a conspicuous part. Several classics of the Silver age--Seneca, Martial, Quinctilian, Silius Italicus--were born in the southern cities of Spain, and the Spanish inscriptions, though less important than might have been expected from this circumstance, bear testimony to the wide diffusion of the Latin language in that country. Northern Africa was occupied by the Romans, with a temporary interruption during the conquest of the Vandals, for eight centuries. Though the country people retained the old Punic language,[3] the Latin must have been in general use in the cities, for African bishops and writers were the founders of Latin eloquence in the Christian Church. Since the French possession of Algeria the ancient sites of Roman colonies have been explored, and already a copious harvest of Latin inscriptions has been the result. But Britain was remote and poor, late occupied by the Romans and early abandoned. Even during its occupation they were rather garrisoned in the towns, which they built and fortified, than mingled with the conquered people. We need not wonder, therefore, that our inscriptions are chiefly military, or that when the Romans withdrew they left few traces of their occupancy in the language of Britain.