Queer Identity in Roman Britain: The Hidden Stories of the Past

• During her time at University, Emily has previously volunteered in the Learning Leader’s programme where she delivered lessons on Classics to primary school students.
• Alongside this, she is also currently working as a tutor to help students of all ages pass their GCSE’s.
• These experiences have greatly enhanced her skills in communication and making information accessible for a wide range of audiences.
• Additionally, she has recently taken a module focusing on reception artefacts involving Greek myth, which has given her insight into methods of presenting history in different lights.
• This is a skill she wishes to further in this placement with Leicestershire Museum Collections. 

Emperor Hadrian was one of the most brilliant of Rome’s rulers, an expert in mathematics and military affairs, a painter, and a poet (Crompton, 2003, p.106).

Additionally, he shared his predecessor Trajan’s attachment to younger men and even wrote poetry on this theme, with his most famous lover having been the youthful Antinous, for whom, it is said, Hadrian 'wept like a woman' following the young man’s death (excerpt from Historia Augusta).

Hadrian mourned Antinous’ death intensely and publicly rather than in private as was custom. Statues of Antinous were built throughout Hadrian’s Empire, he was deified (worshipped as a God), and a new city named Antinoopolis was founded near the site of his death.

More images have been identified of Antinous than of any other figure in classical antiquity with the exceptions of Augustus and Hadrian himself, emphasising the extent of Hadrian’s lasting devotion.

But through my research, I found myself incredibly drawn to the idea that if Hadrian was certainly queer, there must be evidence for same-sex relationships of ordinary citizens of Roman Britain. 

In Roman Britain, though images of sexual acts circulated widely on everyday objects such as ceramic lamps, depictions of same-sex sexual acts have rarely been found.

Williams has suggested a credible reason for this, arguing that nineteenth century archaeologists might have never published or even destroyed imagery of this kind given the views towards homosexual relations in that period (Williams, 2010, p. 351).

Thus, queer history has once again been overlooked, but that is not to say all evidence has been destroyed. 

This brings us to the idea that funerary monuments for male slaves and freedmen, that were paid for by their former masters, act as evidence for their same-sex relations. 

One of the most prominent examples of this is the tombstone of 20-year-old freedman, Victor, commissioned by Numerianus, a trooper in the first cavalry regiment of Asturians, stationed at South Shields on Hadrian’s Wall.

It was evidently hugely expensive, made from a finer sandstone than is typical of the locally available stone, and the mason was able to include much fine detail.

The carving itself, with naturalistic frills on the pillow and creases in the mattress, suggests exceptional and, in turn, expensive artisanship.

As Ivleva comments, whereas the other tombstones were made to commemorate the wives and female partners of soldiers, Victor’s is the exception, it was erected for a former 20-year-old male former slave by his master.

Furthermore, the wording on the inscription that Numerianus ‘most devotedly conducted him [Victor] to the tomb’ and Victor’s liberation at a young age of 20 suggest a relationship that had clearly advanced beyond that of a master and slave (Ivleva, 2020, p. 254). 

Legionary centurions paid for the funerary monuments of their freedmen and male slaves, due to their higher salary. As a mere trooper in an auxiliary unit, Numerianus is an exception, which is further indicative of a strong bond between him and Victor. 

Overall, while it cannot be said with certainty that Victor and Numerianus has same-sex relations, it is heavily implied, and thus I believe is evidence of queerness in Roman Britain.

In the modern day, more and more LGBTQ+ stories are coming to light, and I hope this research piece brings awareness to the fact that queerness has always been present, even in ancient times. 

This museum placement has encouraged me to think about the ordinary people whose stories remain untold, and I am thrilled to be a part of this project that helps bring some of these accounts to light.