I

Reflecting on the usefulness of popularity to a poet, when esteem alone is not enough to pay one's bills, Martial writes:

Martial implies that Nerva's restoration should have included provision of well-endowed patronage of the arts as well – funds to match Martial's popularity across the entire Roman world.Footnote ² Not commonly at the centre of attention, yet altogether remarkable in this epigram, is how Martial presents the dissemination and popularity of his works. Two aspects stand out. First, the circulation of his works is attributed to the Roman military (sed meus…ad Martia signa… / a rigido teritur centurione liber, lines 3–4). Secondly, that circulation is imagined to reach the very extremes of the Roman Empire,Footnote ³ from the ‘Getic frosts’ (line 3) to – allegedly (dicitur) – Roman Britain, where Martial believed that his verses were recited (nostros cantare Britannia uersus, line 5).Footnote ⁴

The way in which the Roman army, as a major factor contributing to relative mobility of individuals within the Roman Empire,Footnote ⁵ may be thought of as a driver behind the diffusion and general dynamic of Roman poetry and song, has not sufficiently been explored.Footnote ⁶ Similarly, regionalized approaches to poetry and song as a cultural practice, subject to local, ethnic, social, and cultural variation and change, have not yet been pursued in a research context in which Roman poetry has largely remained a domain of study in upper-class entertainment and intertextuality.Footnote ⁷ Not only is the common approach at odds with a methodology that has long, and successfully, been adopted otherwise in historical and linguistic research: it also excludes the vast majority of surviving poems from the Roman world, the Carmina Latina Epigraphica, from considerationFootnote ⁸ – a body of texts that provides us with information about a cultural practice that, subject to substantial regional variation,Footnote ⁹ literary poets stylized and drove to its artistic extremes.

When Rome's establishment first began to take notice of Britain, in the context of Caesar's expeditions, there does not appear to have been much expectation of any advanced poetic culture in this area. Cicero, in a letter to Atticus written in the context of Caesar's expedition of 54 bc, expressed little hope in the existence of any musical culture in Britain that would be worth mentioning:Footnote ¹⁰

Conversely, Agricola, governor of Britain after the more successful Claudian conquest of Britain almost a century after Caesar's failed campaigns, felt the need to ‘upskill’ the offspring of Britain's establishment in order for them to become functioning members of the Roman society:Footnote ¹²

Tacitus presents matters as though the promotion and spread of Roman-style education and culture (whatever that actually means, considering that the arrivals themselves were rather more heterogeneous than the collective noun ‘the Romans’ would seem to imply) simply replaced what had existed before.Footnote ¹⁴ A much more plausible scenario is, of course, that elements of cultural practice and learning created a fusion that was unique and specific to Roman Britain, drawing its unique nature from already diverse local substratesFootnote ¹⁵ just as much as from Roman mainstream culture and local practices, but also from individual preferences,Footnote ¹⁶ reflecting the background of all those who acted on Rome's behalf, though they themselves too in their composition reflected the rich and complex ethnic and linguistic diversity of the Roman Empire.Footnote ¹⁷

An interesting question to consider in this context, especially with a view to the alleged rapid development from the putative absence of a poetic culture (according to Cicero) to the arrival and circulation of literary epigram (according to Martial), not least by the hands of the Roman occupying forces, is this: how did the poetic landscape of Roman Britain take shape? What were its characteristics, and what were its specifics? Where did poetry play its role, and to what ends was it used?Footnote ¹⁸

Next to nothing appears to be known, and presumably can be known, about song as a cultural practice of the Britons prior to the Roman conquest,Footnote ¹⁹ not least because there was no widespread use of writing systems among the local tribes.Footnote ²⁰ In that regard, it is also next to impossible to capture the specifics of the transformative impact that the arrival of the Roman forces and the Roman establishment in Britain had on local practices. Based on the census, and elucidation, of the Latin verse inscriptions from Roman Britain, however,Footnote ²¹ as well as mindful of the ultimately random nature of the material that has come to light so far, it is possible to gain a rather better understanding of the poetic landscape that formed in Britain from the mid-first century ad onwards.Footnote ²² The following review will take stock of the evidence with a view to both chronological and geographical contexts, in order to understand the ways in which poetic practices began to establish themselves across the island.Footnote ²³

II

Arguably the oldest surviving monumental verse inscription from Roman Britain comes from Wroxeter (Shropshire). The text, inscribed on a sandstone monument dated to the first century ad, commemorates the life of an eagle-bearer of the fourteenth legion. It reads as follows:

Titus Flaminius, originally also represented in a sculpture above the inscribed text, is introduced with his full credentials as a Roman citizen in his nomenclature, as well as described as a long-serving, ranking military man in a distinguished position. Hailing from Faventia in Cisalpine Gaul, he is introduced in the first person and states his fate: nunc hic sum, ‘now I am here’ – far away from Faventia, in Britain, and no longer among the living. His final thoughts, as suggested by the poetic part of this inscription, a poem in three hexameters (lines 4–7) addressing a general audience, concern the pleasures of a life far away from the place of his eternal rest – the grapes that make the wine, and water. The advice he gives is simple: live life with decency while you can.

The military unit mentioned in this inscription, the Legio XIV Gemina, was involved in the Claudian invasion of Britain, as well as in the Roman response to the revolt of Boudicca, and from the legion's nomenclature in this inscription one may even reasonably deduce that Titus Flaminius had died before the Boudiccan revolt.Footnote ²⁵ While there can be no certainty at all that this is the oldest Latin poem ever written or recorded in Britain, it is certainly both an appealing and not an unreasonable thought that poetry arrived in the knapsacks of the Roman army – almost in the way in which Martial imagined. This picture does not change immediately as time progresses.

Poetry as an export is also the very idea behind what appears to be the second-oldest item of Latin verse recorded in Roman Britain thus far – a recently discovered, not yet fully documented inscription on a stylus (a writing utensil of all things!), dated to around ad 62–70, from the Bucklersbury site in the City of London. The text, engraved in four lines on the stylus, was given and translated as follows by Roger Tomlin:

Slightly later, from the turn of the first to second century ad, dates an inscription from York, in which a father – a soldier or a veteran, most likelyFootnote ²⁷ – mourns the loss of his daughter at the age of thirteen:

Also from York, and unambiguously related to Rome's military establishment, another early poetic line, dating to earlier than ad 120, when the doomed Legio IX Hispana received its marching orders, is preserved on an altar dedicated to Silvanus by the secretary to the legionary legate:

With two funerary and one votive inscription, admittedly a small sample size, the earliest evidence for this emerging cultural practice in Roman Britain first appears in the exact contexts in which it also dominated outside Britain.Footnote ³⁰

III

As Roman military units advanced further to the north, poetry followed, albeit – at least initially – not in its monumental form and shape. Poetry evocative of, but not directly based on, Virgil reached Hadrian's Wall at Lodge Crag by Low Row (Cumbria), where individuals, presumably while quarrying stones for the fortification efforts related to Rome's frontier and its associated structures, inscribed the following graffito:

Possibly alluding to the honorific title of the Legio VI Victrix Pia Fidelis, and thought to have been inscribed in conjunction with the drawing of an altar and an express mention of the said sixth legion,Footnote ³² Latin verse thus emerged barely a mile away from what was then the north-westernmost frontier of the Roman Empire.Footnote ³³ Somewhat further to the east, at Vindolanda (near Hexham, Northumberland), and presumably from a date slightly later in the second century ad as well, at least a couple of writers appear to quote Virgil more directly still – possibly in the context of writing exercises (though one cannot be certain about that).Footnote ³⁴

By the late second and early third century ad, verse at Rome's north-westernmost frontier had begun to manifest itself in more monumental forms. Two pieces discovered in the area of Habitancum (Risingham, Northumberland) would appear to convey an idea of the lives and hardship endured by members of Rome's military in hostile climes. The first one of these, from Habitancum itself, is an altar dedicated to the Nymphs in response to a premonition that one Fabius, a soldier, had in his dream:

While the nature of the premonition as such remains unclear, it is remarkable, and presumably meaningful, how specific the response is: not just an altar erected by Fabius, but, in fact, by his wife (whose name remains unknown).Footnote ³⁶ It may not be altogether absurd to infer that the dream involved some type of ill omen with an impact on the soldier's wife and, considering the recipients of this altar, involving, or affecting, an aspect of nature, such as the life-giving powers of a local spring.

Life in a challenging environment has also been the theme in a second poetic piece, a heavily damaged funerary monument that was discovered near Habitancum, but north of Hadrian's Wall (though it may have been moved to its eventual findspot for its secondary use):

Although the heavily damaged state of this piece does not allow for any confident conclusions, the dread of northern frost and darkness seems palpable from the few words that do survive in the text.

The sky is also the theme in the final piece to be considered here, a dedication erected by one Marcus Caecilius Donatianus, a military tribune, dated to the second or third century ad and discovered at Carvoran (Northumberland):

Caecilius Donatianus, a ranking officer, appears to have composed this text as a reminder that, even in a hostile setting in which one may only hope for future prosperity, in a setting in which ethnicities from across the empire – from Syria to Libya – were united not only under Roman command, but also under the same sky, everyone still had something in common: the same desires, the same hopes, and the same religious beliefs (even if expressed in different terms).Footnote ³⁹ Into this mix of unifying factors, one may well add the use of inscribed verse – mostly alien still to the stretches from which this piece hails, but common practice in Roman North Africa and the Near East.

IV

Monumental poetry in the immediate vicinity of Hadrian's Wall not only remains closely associated with Rome's military presence, but also profoundly reflects the specifics of this challenging environment and the hopes, fears, and desires of those who served the Roman Empire. Poetry behind the front lines, in turn, increasingly begins to reflect the emerging and evolving civic life of the province.

Interestingly enough, funerary commemoration in verse is not as prominently attested in Roman Britain as it is elsewhere in the Roman Empire. It is by no means altogether absent, however, as shown not only by some of the aforementioned pieces, but also, for example, by the following heavily fragmentary item from third- or fourth-century ad Lindum/Lincoln (Lincolnshire):

Owing to the fragmentary nature of this piece, not much can be said about the deceased and her family background.

An important peculiarity of the civic life that began to form in the province of Britannia, and that persisted throughout its existence, is its peculiar ethnic composition – a composition in which arrivals from across the Roman Empire, whether in the context of Rome's military and administrative structure or otherwise, not infrequently maintained, and wished to assert, their links to their respective ethnic and geographic origins. This desire was already tangible in the inscription of Caecilius Donatianus, and is evident in an inscription on a sarcophagus from York, tentatively dated to the second century ad:

The wish to celebrate one's non-local origins in verse remains visible, however, even in a poem dated to a time period as late as the fourth or fifth century ad, inscribed on a tombstone discovered at Carlisle (Cumbria):

While it remains unclear what brought Antigonus Papias to Britain, it is obvious that, though mentioned with his Roman tria nomina, it appears to have been of importance to his honourands that he was, in fact, of Greek descent and thus died away from home.Footnote ⁴⁴

A third text that must be mentioned in this context comes from Brough-under-Stainmore (Cumbria) and has been dated to the third century ad. This inscription commemorates a young man called Hermes. Remarkably, this piece not only alludes to the foreign origin of Hermes, from Commagene in the very east of the Roman Empire, but also celebrates him in Greek verse:

Reference to Hermes as παῖς (‘boy’, lines 6 and 11) of ‘good’ quality (line 11) may suggest that he had been a slave. Furthermore, the elaborate nature of the poem with its Homeric allusions may be taken as an indication that Hermes served someone of elevated social status – perhaps a military commander or ranking administrator.

Hermes’ funerary poem is by no means the only Greek verse inscription that has emerged from Roman Britain, and almost all instancesFootnote ⁴⁶ can be seen in the context of both the ethnic diversity through the influx of arrivals from the eastern half of the Roman Empire and the cross-cultural fertilization that such arrivals brought about through the import of their poetic cultural practices. In two cases, this is linked to oriental cults at Corbridge (Northumberland).Footnote ⁴⁷ A dactylic hexameter in a third-century inscription refers to the worship of the Syrian deity of Melqart:

A second item, undated, mentions Astarte:

Further away from the frontier, at Chester, a member of the medical profession, presumably related to the legionary fortress and settlement of the late second century ad, also expressed himself in Greek:

In all three instances it may have been the Greek and/or Oriental nature of the cults in question that resulted in the specific choice of language. At the same time, both the linguistic choice and the presence of the relevant cults (and the professions mentioned), not unrelated to the composition and needs of the Roman army across Britain, are testament to the actual diversity of the individuals who made up the changing population of Roman Britain.

Further poetic evidence for professions related to the presence of the Roman army and the emergence of local infrastructure, as well as the use of inscribed verse in religious contexts comes from Bowness-on-Solway (Cumbria), where an inscription, tentatively dated to the third century ad, conveys the hopes of a merchant for improvement of his financial situation:

Especially remarkable for its objectification of poetry as a text that can be made more precious by means of expensive materials employed for its very lettering, this piece appears to commemorate the financial struggles of a merchant whose quaestus (‘business’) was in need of fetura (‘proceeds’) to such an extent that he asked for divine support. The nature of Antonianus’ business is unknown, as is the reply to the question as to whether his prayers were answered.Footnote ⁵³

A final aspect related to the evolution of Roman infrastructure that had an impact on the local production and preservation of poetry in Britain was the maintenance of infrastructure at the hand of Roman officials. An altar from Catterick (North Yorkshire), datable to ad 191, provides one of two relevant examples:

A more widely discussed piece, however, as well as a piece in which the formation of its poetic content is definitely deliberate rather than potentially merely accidental, is a fragmentary stone from Cirencester (Gloucestershire), most likely dating to the late third or early fourth century ad:

While the piece may not, as previously thought,Footnote ⁵⁷ belong in the context of pagan restoration under the rule of Julian the Apostate, it certainly belongs firmly in the context of celebrating infrastructural restoration in verse, adding the poem as a dignifying decorative element to an object of worship.

V

In (reasonably) safe distance from the empire's north-westernmost frontier, centres of Roman civic life began to develop. The relative stability and prosperity of life in these areas is mirrored in the poetic record that begins to represent the stratigraphy of a Romano-British society more fully. The poetry that emerges in the south and south-east in particular, reflects, on the one hand, the desires of a consolidated upper class to engage in lavish decorative displays of status and education and, on the other hand, the ability of lower social strata to convey their humour through short compositions in the form of graffiti.

The former of these two aspects can be seen in examples of verse employed for decorative uses in elite villas in Kent. Fragments of wall plaster from a Roman villa at Otford, dated to the second century ad, quote Virgil's Aeneid, accompanied by a pictorial representation of a relevant scene:

A large mosaic representing the abduction of Europa by Jupiter in disguise as a bull, discovered in the context of a lavish Roman villa at Lullingstone and datable to the first half of the fourth century ad, takes a witty, wholesomely feminist stance on Jupiter's escapade with a less than subtle allusion to the Aeolus episode in the first book of the Aeneid:

Only slightly later in date than the Lullingstone mosaic, from the late fourth century ad, is another mosaic – a (damaged) piece that was discovered in the context of a Roman villa at Frampton (Dorset), in which mythical scenes were accompanied by ecphrastic verse:

Rather less clear than the previous examples, yet possibly similar in a once decorative function, is the context of a (now lost, undated) piece from Wilcote (Oxfordshire). The fragment of a copper plate preserved just one word – yet the shape of the single word that survives suggests that it once was part of a poem in epic verse:

With less focus on lavish display, but rather a desire to record one's quick wit, a small number of poetic (or, at least, poeticizing) graffiti document a consolidated poetic culture across social strata beyond the upper class. This is certainly true for an inscribed tile from Silchester (Hampshire), perhaps datable to the second century ad, in which the notorious opening of Book 2 of the Aeneid has been adopted and wittily recontextualized in what may have been a quasi-curse:

It also holds true for an actual leaden curse tablet from Kelvedon (Essex), which was read as follows and interpreted as being of iambic rhythm by Paolo Cugusi:

Finally, a rather puzzling matter, also almost certainly unrelated to any upper-class activity, is a recurring line that was first discovered on two tiles from Binchester (County Durham), probably dating to the third century ad.Footnote ⁶⁴ The shorter variant of the two reads:

The longer version reads:

which was tentatively translated as:

This set has very recently been supplemented by a third find, in the shape of a graffito on a pot base from East Farleigh (Kent), published by Alex Mullen and Roger Tomlin, suggesting that the text itself was a more widespread little composition, even if the overall interpretation, and especially the meaning of Armea, remain unclear.Footnote ⁶⁷

VI

As far as recorded poetry is concerned, Britain was a blank canvas prior to the arrival of Rome's legions: a geographical space for which it is possible to witness the emergence and formation of a cultural practice, well-established in other parts of the Roman Empire, over a discrete period of time and dependent on social, cultural, ethnic, linguistic, and economic factors that underpinned provincial life in Britain in more general terms. While there is no reason at all to suggest that poetry and song were altogether absent from Britain's pre-Roman cultures, it is clear that new arrivals imported cultural practices with which they were familiar and which held meaning to them. Down to its very end, by the time that Roman rule was lifted, poetic composition in Britain remained the domain of foreigners most of all, joined eventually by a locally formed elite.

Beginning with funerary commemoration in verse in central Britain, at least in one instance unambiguously linked to an arrival from mainland Italy, a light-heartedly inscribed writing utensil, and a religious dedication, the production of verse at first followed Rome's fighting forces to the north – very much following the logic of Martial's epigram that emphasizes a link between the spread of Roman poetry and the mobility of Rome's army. At Hadrian's Wall, after a phase of informal writing, monumentally inscribed verse began to surface, and it is from there that the empty spaces in the hinterland, all the way to the south and south-east of England, started to see an increasing engagement with poetic compositions. Eventually, as a new-style elite began to form, even lavish decorative uses of poetry – in the shape of musive and painted texts – appeared.

When compared to other provinces, Britain developed an almost unique poetic identity in its surviving verse inscription. While funerary carmina exist, they do not, unlike in other places, dominate the material. Instead, there is an especially high number of religious texts among Britain's inscribed poems – from religious cults that are sustained and supported by state officials, to expressions of individual and personal belief, to mythical allusions. Not only in these texts, but more generally, a distinct sense of fragility, a life that is constantly under threat and in danger, prevails – a sensation that other provinces, even under similar conditions, do not appear to display to a similar extent in their verse inscriptions.

There is no teleology, inherent or otherwise, no plot in the attestation and spread of verse inscriptions anywhere in the Roman Empire – and the picture that begins to form through their study, in any given context, may be very incomplete and non-representative. Considering the small sample size of relevant texts from Roman Britain, even a very small number of additions to the corpus may have fundamentally transformative potential to analyses and interpretations. Yet the picture that seems to form through the combination of chronological and geographical information about the surviving texts on the one hand, and factors related to social, ethnic, and historical context and circumstance on the other, is a compelling one – designed to provide an in-depth understanding of verse as a cultural practice that manifests, and transforms, itself continually in the multi-ethnic and multilingual realities of the Roman Empire, driven by substantial levels of individual and group mobility, as well as contact and exchange of an ever-changing mixture of cultures, religions, and languages.