To round off Women's History Month, Elliott Masefield explores what gravestones can tell us about the life of women in Corinium
Women, especially from more distant historical periods, tend to be marginalised by the historical record. While the stories of the highest-ranking Roman women survive, those of the more ordinary citizens tend to disappear. As such, though the lurid figures of Livia and Agrippina may loom large in the accounts of Suetonius and Tacitus, there tends to be little evidence of the more personal stories from the towns and provinces of that vast empire.
Women’s History Month is, therefore, a perfect opportunity to reinvigorate interest and engagement with the lives of Roman women, through the rare and illuminating artefacts in the Corinium Museum. The museum is blessed with a number of largely intact Roman tombstones, on which the names and lifespans of the dead are visible. It is exceedingly rare to find Roman tombstones with inscriptions intact, and rarer still to find those of women.
That Corinium Museum possesses three such tombstones, documenting the lives of three important female figures in Roman Corinium, is astounding. All three are on display in the Roman Galleries, and two feature in a fantastic interactive display, which imagine what their lives might have been like.
In this blog, I will further explore the diverse legacies of Roman women, through the unique lens of three tombstones.
Julia Casta and Publia Vicania
These are the names of two women, each living in Roman Corinium in the heart of society, and each afforded an individual headstone. Each provides a name, and some tantalising insights, though the lower halves of the tombstones are both lost. In visiting the Roman galleries, one is struck by the size and presence of the graves, Casta’s especially, and the quality of their workmanship. Engraved with detailed, high-relief inscriptions, the deceased must have belonged to the highest echelons of Romano-British society; lower-class citizens were afforded only wooden graves. Despite their evident status, and their individual graves, they are both defined as wives first and foremost…
Julia Casta’s gravestone reads “To the spirits of the departed (and) to Julia Casta, his wife, (who) lived 33 years.”
This dedication reveals the perception of women’s identity prevalent in Roman Britain, defined first as wives, before individuals. This may seem unfamiliar to modern audience, but at the time it was very much accepted, and to be a virtuous wife to a prominent husband was seen as a source of honour. The relatively young age marked on the gravestone suggests that she may have died in childbirth; of course, the tombstone reveals little for certain. However, her status as a wife did not preclude the wealthy Roman woman from taking an active part in public and political life. Wealthy Roman men were expected to take a prominent public role, with their wives following their example. As evidenced by the women of the Roman Imperial court, however, they could often exert far more independent influence than the contemporary ideal.
In the interactive display, Julia Casta is presented as a figure of prestige and authority, whose wealth allows her to exert considerable influence over her husband and others. This is perfectly plausible, though her early death may have prevented her from taking a truly matriarchal role.
Publia Vicania is another high-status individual, though perhaps less so than Casta, based on her gravestone.
The inscription on her grave reads “To the spirits of the departed and to Publia Vicania. Her husband, Publius Vitalis (set this up.)”
In this case, Publia’s husband, surviving her, set up her gravestone in dedication. This suggests, perhaps, that Publius was very devoted to his wife, or at least felt a deep sense of duty towards her memory. The interactive display explores this theme, presenting Publia as a woman of humble origins, who rose in society through her husband, a high-status Roman. This, again, is plausible, and could be a similar story to Bodicacia, the third tombstone in the collection.
Like Julia Casta, Publia Vicania has a distinctly Roman name, suggesting again that they belonged to the highly Romanised elite, or perhaps had their origins in migrating Roman families.
Bodicacia
This stands in sharp contrast to the third gravestone in the collection, that of Bodicacia. This gravestone is a more recent addition to the museum collection, having been discovered in 2015.
The inscription on the stone reads “To the Shades of the Dead. Bodicacia, spouse, lived 27 years.”
The stone, now visible in a separate display in the Roman Gallery, is of singular workmanship. The stone itself is ornately carved to resemble a Roman temple or mausoleum, featuring the face of an unknown water god. Despite this extraordinary craftsmanship, the inscription is not of the same quality, suggesting that the tombstone was originally made for some other funerary function, and repurposed. The quality of the stone still marks her out as a high-status woman, however, and the unusually poetic epigraph “to the shades of the dead”, suggests that she was deeply loved by her husband, who presumably had the tombstone made. Again, she died very young. Though the cause of this is not known, childbirth seems probable.
The major difference is the deceased’s name: Bodicacia. This name is traditionally Celtic, rather than Roman, suggesting that Bodicacia, despite her high status, may have been a native Briton rather than of Roman origin. The town of Corinium was founded in 70 AD, evolving from an earlier military outpost. The local Celtic Dobunni tribe maintained a peaceful trading relationship with the Roman soldiers and settlers. The stone has been dated to the first or second centuries AD, suggesting that Bodicacia lived during the early period of Corinium’s existence. It seems plausible that she married into the Roman elite during the early development of Corinium, providing an intriguing glimpse into the complex cultural interactions between the Romans and the native Britons. The Roman style of her tombstone suggests that Bodicacia adopted a highly Romanised lifestyle, and chose to reflect this in the manner of her burial.
Through these three extraordinary tombstones, we gain a rare glimpse into the diverse lives of a few of the women who lived in Roman Corinium. The stones reveal three potentially very different lives, each reflecting different aspects of women’s experiences in Roman Britain, and Romano-British society in general. Of course, the enigmatic tombstones offer only glimpses. As in the museum’s interactive display, conjecture is needed to build a complete picture. However, such glimpses merit exploration, and Women’s History Month is a perfect opportunity to appreciate the buried lives of these individuals, and more besides. Ultimately, our understanding of Corinium’s women is defined by its incompleteness. What evidence we have represents only a few of the wealthiest citizens, and we know next to nothing about the lives of lower-class individuals . However, the stones on display in the Corinium Museum offer a rare window, that one should not neglect to discover.
