Pope Leo XIV’s coat of arms and motto were revealed by the Vatican this May 2025, as is customary in heraldry for Popes to signal their main interests. According to Leo, all three order symbols, the fleur-de-lis, the pierced heart and the motto In Illo Uno Unum, are rooted in the life of St. Augustine, a fourth-century Italian theologian and bishop. Based on what an art historian might say, these choices highlight humility, unity and devotion which both represent the pope’s Augustinian background and explain what he hoped for in the Church. How do objects and places from history and theology underline the Pope’s challenge in today’s environment? The Heraldic Shield The diagonally divided coat of arms of Pope Leo XIV is full of both symbolic and balanced elements. In the upper half, you’ll see the Virgin Mary’s purity represented with a silver fleur-de-lis on a blue field. The three petals of the fleur-de-lis, like the Holy Trinity, were discussed at length by St. Augustine in On the Trinity. Fr. Pompili of the Italian Heraldic-Genealogical Institute explains that the Marian symbol is a proof of Leo’s strong commitment to his faith. In the lower area, the emblem of the Order of St. Augustine is displayed: a red heart on fire, hurt by an arrow and sitting on a closed book. It is inspired by Saint Augustine, who wrote in his Confessions that God’s Word had pierced his heart. The Bible, the basis of Augustine’s change, features on the cover, with the heart showing his strong love for Christ and others. Rafael Nieto, an Augustinian Recollect, states that a heart like this is a proof of humility and celebration of God’s grace. At the top of the shield, the keys are crossed to suggest papal powers, with a gold key and a silver one and a plain mitre replaces the traditional tiara, another point about humility. Some people researching heraldry online have mentioned that this symbol’s lower field could be ivory or argent, as its use receives international attention. Call to Unity To these words, In Illo Uno Unum or “In the One, we are one,” St. Augustine refers to his Exposition on Psalm 127. It illustrates his view that the Church, amid its variety, is united as one in Christ. In Augustine’s words, “We are many, but we are one through Christ, the principle behind what Pope Leo XIV aims to achieve. He pointed out in a Vatican News interview in 2023 that unity is a main Augustinian value, saying, “Being part of the community guides my mission and my expectations for the Church.” Chosen by peers on May 8, 2025, Leo was named the 267th pope and wishes to unite the world despite its disagreements. The saying also reveals Augustine’s humility, as we can see from a Holy Legend (1483). When puzzled by the Trinity, Augustine came across a child trying to put the sea into a tiny container. When asked about his behavior, the child said it wasn’t more pointless than Augustine’s quest to grasp the infinite. The artist Michael Pacher’s altarpiece from 1482 and Leo’s first Mass both show how human understanding has its borders—something Leo called attention to with his remark that being pope was both a burden and a source of joy. Augustine in Art For 34 years as bishop of Hippo, St. Augustine greatly influenced both theology and the arts. His contributions, for example The Confessions and The City of God, influenced the thinking of the medieval and Renaissance ages. Many artists depicted Augustine with a pierced heart, as in a stained-glass window made by Tobias Müller in 1622 which while showing Augustine talking to a child, represents his humility. Painted in 1480 by Sandro Botticelli, Augustine is pictured working in a study filled with literature, rather than wearing his bishop’s hat. Underlying the current concept is a geocentric model that has now been replaced but still outlines the limitations of leading thinkers. Pope Leo XIV is known for operating within the same tradition of community learning. He has previously taught canon law and early Christian theology at San Carlos y San Marcelo in Peru, giving his ministry an air of academic competence. Since his Augustinian background springs from a rule founded in 1244—‘Let everything be owned by all’—this explains why he stresses the importance of community in faith and service. His symbol and motto, chosen by Pope Leo XIV, help guide him in his leadership. Benefiting from his past role as a missionary and bishop in Chiclayo, Peru, he now helps the Church by encouraging unity and outreach. At the time of his election, he made it clear that he wanted the Church to “pursue peace and justice together.” The fleur-de-lis and pierced heart mean that Louis appreciated both the Virgin Mary and the Catholic movement, while his motto encouraged unity during a difficult time. Because social inequality, division among cultures and technology are current issues, Leo’s Augustinian perspective continues to be relevant. Do you think, like Augustine’s open heart, the Church is ready to be affected by God and its community? While scholars learn from his papal legacy and Peruvians fete their one-time bishop, Leo XIV’s images prompt us to be faithful, humble and united.
Pregnant Warriors: The Power of Viking Women
Pregnant women wielding swords and wearing martial helmets, foetuses set to avenge their fathers – and a harsh world where not all newborns were born free or given burial. These are some of the realities uncovered by the first interdisciplinary study to focus on pregnancy in the Viking age, authored by myself, Kate Olley, Brad Marshall and Emma Tollefsen as part of the Body-Politics project. Despite its central role in human history, pregnancy has often been overlooked in archaeology, largely because it leaves little material trace. Pregnancy has perhaps been particularly overlooked in periods we mostly associate with warriors, kings and battles – such as the highly romanticised Viking age (the period from AD800 until AD1050). Topics such as pregnancy and childbirth have conventionally been seen as “women’s issues”, belonging to the “natural” or “private” spheres – yet we argue that questions such as “when does life begin?” are not at all natural or private, but of significant political concern, today as in the past. In our new study, my co-authors and I puzzle together eclectic strands of evidence in order to understand how pregnancy and the pregnant body were conceptualised at this time. By exploring such “womb politics”, it is possible to add significantly to our knowledge on gender, bodies and sexual politics in the Viking age and beyond. First, we examined words and stories depicting pregnancy in Old Norse sources. Despite dating to the centuries after the Viking age, sagas and legal texts provide words and stories about childbearing that the Vikings’ immediate descendants used and circulated. We learned that pregnancy could be described as “bellyful”, “unlight” and “not whole”. And we gleaned an insight into the possible belief in personhood of a foetus: “A woman walking not alone.” An episode in one of the sagas we looked at supports the idea that unborn children (at least high-status ones) could already be inscribed into complex systems of kinship, allies, feuds and obligations. It tells the story of a tense confrontation between the pregnant Guðrún Ósvífrsdóttir, a protagonist in the Saga of the People of Laxardal and her husband’s killer, Helgi Harðbeinsson. As a provocation, Helgi wipes his bloody spear on Guđrun’s clothes and over her belly. He declares: “I think that under the corner of that shawl dwells my own death.” Helgi’s prediction comes true, and the foetus grows up to avenge his father. Another episode, from the Saga of Erik the Red, focuses more on the agency of the mother. The heavily pregnant Freydís Eiríksdóttir is caught up in an attack by the skrælings, the Norse name for the indigenous populations of Greenland and Canada. When she cannot escape due to her pregnancy, Freydís picks up a sword, bares her breast and strikes the sword against it, scaring the assailants away. While sometimes regarded as an obscure literary episode in scholarship, this story may find a parallel in the second set of evidence we examined for the study: a figurine of a pregnant woman. This pendant, found in a tenth-century woman’s burial in Aska, Sweden, is the only known convincing depiction of pregnancy from the Viking age. It depicts a figure in female dress with the arms embracing an accentuated belly — perhaps signalling connection with the coming child. What makes this figurine especially interesting is that the pregnant woman is wearing a martial helmet. Taken together, these strands of evidence show that pregnant women could, at least in art and stories, be engaged with violence and weapons. These were not passive bodies. Together with recent studies of Viking women buried as warriors, this provokes further thought to how we envisage gender roles in the oft-perceived hyper-masculine Viking societies. Missing children and pregnancy as a defect A final strand of investigation was to look for evidence for obstetric deaths in the Viking burial record. Maternal-infant death rates are thought to be very high in most pre-industrial societies. Yet, we found that among thousands of Viking graves, only 14 possible mother-infant burials are reported. Consequently, we suggest that pregnant women who died weren’t routinely buried with their unborn child and may not have been commemorated as one, symbiotic unity by Viking societies. In fact, we also found newborns buried with adult men and postmenopausal women, assemblages which may be family graves, but they may also be something else altogether. We cannot exclude that infants – underrepresented in the burial record more generally – were disposed of in death elsewhere. When they are found in graves with other bodies, it’s possible they were included as a “grave good” (objects buried with a deceased person) for other people in the grave. This is a stark reminder that pregnancy and infancy can be vulnerable states of transition. A final piece of evidence speaks to this point like no other. For some, like Guđrun’s little boy, gestation and birth represented a multi-staged process towards becoming a free social person. For people lower on the social rung, however, this may have looked very different. One of the legal texts we examined dryly informs us that when enslaved women were put up for sale, pregnancy was regarded as a defect of their bodies. Pregnancy was deeply political and far from uniform in meaning for Viking-age communities. It shaped – and was shaped by – ideas of social status, kinship and personhood. Our study shows that pregnancy was not invisible or private, but crucial to how Viking societies understood life, social identities and power. This edited article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Ancient Wrecks off Costa Rica Revealed to Be Danish Slave Ships, Not Pirate Vessels
Two shipwrecks maintain their presence in Costa Rica’s Cahuita National Park beneath its turquoise waters as coral reefs dance with tropical fish that have graced the ocean floor for more than three hundred years. For numerous decades fishers from the area shared stories about pirate galleons whose broken pieces suggested battles which occurred long ago. Marine archaeologists explored Caribbean waters in 2023 to find proof which debunked the pirate ship speculation by revealing these vessels as slave ships. These two vessels Fridericus Quartus and Christianus Quintus sailed as Danish slave ships before sinking to their fate in 1710 as they transported hundreds of enslaved Africans to servitude. The Danish National Museum identification ended up both rewriting maritime history and producing excitement for a Costa Rican community about their ancestral roots. These wrecks contain hidden secrets which establish a continuous link between the two countries across historical periods. In 2015 American archaeologists detected strange yellow bricks during their exploration near the Costa Rican southern Caribbean coastline. The discovered brick blocks originated from clay deposits located at Flensburg Fjord during the 18th century as part of Danish colonial activities. The underwater excavation started in 2023 through joint efforts between the National Museum of Denmark and the Viking Ship Museum in Roskilde and the Costa Rican authorities to reveal this disturbing tale. Through their efforts Marine archaeologists David Gregory and Andreas Kallmeyer Bloch started the expedition by diving into shallow water at Cahuita National Park to investigate the shipwrecks distributed along the seabed. The researchers used their equipment alongside careful techniques to gather the burned timber samples from oaks alongside yellow brick pieces along with fragile clay pipes. The team at University of Southern Denmark determined the oak trunk originated from an area across the western Baltic Sea including Germany and Sweden and Denmark before being cut down somewhere between 1690 to 1695. The clay pits of Flensburg produced the distinctive signs detected on the discovered bricks. Clay pipes discovered on board dating from just before 1710 displayed the delicate features that captured the brief rest period of a sailor at sea. The evidence was undeniable. According to Gregory this analysis proved beyond doubt that the findings were correct as he stated in a National Museum press release. The ship’s burnt timbers match historical records that describe a burn incident while the bricks show clear Danish properties. Both ships have been scientifically identified as the Fridericus Quartus and Christianus Quintus.” For Bloch the archaeological mission defined his career path. At that moment he admitted to having almost quit the endeavor but called this experience the most adventurous excavation he had ever participated in. The discoveries extend beyond Danish history because they directly connect to the people in Costa Rican territory. The Fridericus Quartus and Christianus Quintus departed from Copenhagen during December 1708 to transport Africans to Danish West Indies plantations under a dark purpose. The transatlantic voyage carried goods including weapons, textiles, and metal components, which they planned to use for trading Africans on the West African coast to transfer to Caribbean plantations for labor. But fate intervened. Archival evidence reveals how the ships encountered destruction off Costa Rica’s coastlines in 1710 after their crew members mutinied, navigational errors led them far off course, and their supplies ran short. The Fridericus Quartus experienced fires that destroyed it before it sank into the ocean, while the Christianus Quintus found destruction when its anchor rope was deliberately cut during the mutiny, causing it to crash into coral reefs. Survivors of enslavement escaped from the sunken ships, but about 100 individuals were recaptured to labor on local cacao plantations. Historical documentation shows that while many enslaved Africans escaped from the sunken ships, approximately 100 survivors were taken into captivity by local cacao plantation owners. Descendants from these shipwrecks make up the Afro-Caribbean members of Limón Province who settled in Costa Rica before official narratives or written documentation. The recovery of these sunken ships has established a whole new historical account. This revelation carries profound weight. Local legends throughout the centuries believed the wrecked ships to be pirates when actually those remains were scattered at sea. Science combined with community partnership revealed real findings that prove the persistence of survivor populations who formed Costa Rica’s multicultural heritage. The discoveries show how Denmark operated as a significant participant in the Atlantic slave trade, although larger entities receive more attention historically. The discovery has established a joint historical connection that spans the distances between Denmark and Costa Rica. The discovery rises as an occasion for Denmark to face historical events that brought them immense distress. The highly preserved Fridericus Quartus shipwreck in the Caribbean gives archaeologists one of the rare opportunities to study 18th-century Danish shipbuilding practices and the ambitions of colonial expansion. The Njord research center at the National Museum continues its mission to conduct worldwide Danish wreck excavations to reach a deeper knowledge of these shipwrecks. Costa Rica carries the most direct effects from the discoveries. The wrecks rest inside the biodiversity sanctuary that is Cahuita National Park which serves as both habitat and cultural protection zone. The youth divers of the local community under Ambassadors of the Sea leadership completed this project which combined academic research practices with individual identity development. The decade of work documented by Enslaved as presented in its 2020 documentary series with Samuel L. Jackson eventually attracted worldwide recognition to their history. The discovery contradicts official history records by proving that Afro-Costa Ricans settled in Limón during 1710 and it expands the local story. The preserved wrecks function as tangible monuments that honor the tragedies faced by human beings. The future of the remains will be decided by Costa Rica while they strive to protect them with dignity for the enslaved individuals who lived there. Through their partnership with Danish institutions along with local NGOs and Costa Rican institutions archaeologists established a model approach to culturally-sensitive practice which gives ancestral communities an active role. Header Image: Costa Rican shipwreck underwater exploration
Europe’s Oldest Bone Spear Tip Unearthed
Imagine a Neanderthal hunter, crouched in the dim light of a prehistoric dawn, meticulously shaping a bone into a deadly spear tip. This scene, vivid with the weight of survival, comes to life through a remarkable discovery in northern Spain. Archaeologists have unearthed a 120,000-year-old bone spear tip, created by Neanderthals, now recognized as the oldest of its kind in Europe. In northern Spain, the Cueva del Forat de la Mico cave has guarded its secrets for millennia. Here, archaeologists uncovered a small but extraordinary artifact: a bone spear tip, measuring just a few centimeters, carved with precision. Radiocarbon dating places it back between 80,000 and 70,000 years, making it the earliest known bone weapon in Europe. Unlike stone tools, which dominate Neanderthal archaeological records, bone tools require intricate techniques—selecting the right material, shaping it without breaking, and honing it for function. This spear tip, likely fashioned from a deer or horse bone, showcases a level of dexterity and planning that challenges outdated stereotypes of Neanderthals as brute cave-dwellers. The artifacts significance lies in its rarity. Bone tools degrade faster than stone, leaving sparse evidence of their use. Yet, this spear tip survived, its surface etched with the story of its maker’s hands. Researchers suggest it was used for hunting, possibly thrust into the hide of a deer or boar during communal hunts. The discovery aligns with other evidence of Neanderthal sophistication, such as their use of fire, creation of jewelry, and even burial rituals. Far from primitive, these early humans were problem-solvers, adapting to their environment with creativity. The Cueva del Forat de la Mico find adds a crucial chapter to the Neanderthal story. For decades, scholars assumed Homo sapiens held a monopoly on advanced tool-making, relegating Neanderthals to a lesser role in human evolution. However, discoveries like this bone spear tip paint a different picture. The artifact predates the arrival of modern humans in Europe, proving Neanderthals independently developed complex technologies. This challenges the narrative that they merely mimicked Homo sapiens or lacked innovation. The discovery also raises questions about Neanderthal extinction. If they were so skilled, why did they vanish around 40,000 years ago? Climate change, competition with Homo sapiens, or interbreeding may hold answers, but the spear tip suggests they thrived for millennia before their decline. Each find like this stitches together a richer tapestry of their lives, urging us to see Neanderthals not as failures but as resilient ancestors. Featured image: Four photographs of the tapered part of the specimen. White rectangles marked with numbers indicate: 1 – areas of red-brown coloration of the type caused by heat at the tip; 2 – location of the photograph of bitumen residue. Credit: L.V. Golovanova et al.
Sealed Byzantine Amphora Discovered in Shipwreck off the Coast of Turkey
In a major archaeological discovery, a team of researchers from Dokuz Eylül University has uncovered a sealed Byzantine amphora estimated to be around 1,100 years old, located in a shipwreck off the coast of Marmaris, in Muğla Province, Turkey. The find took place during underwater excavations in the Aegean Sea, at a depth of approximately 50 meters, as part of a project led by the Turkish Ministry of Culture and Tourism. The amphora, dated to the Byzantine period (9th or 10th century), is remarkably well preserved, making it a unique artifact for archaeological research. Its original sealing suggests it may still contain goods from the era, such as olive oil, wine, or spices — products that were commonly traded across Byzantine maritime routes. The rarity of intact, sealed amphorae — since most were either broken or opened during shipwrecks or over time — highlights the significance of this discovery. According to statements from the Ministry, the contents of the amphora will be carefully analyzed to provide insights into commercial practices, maritime routes, and the regional economy during the Byzantine era. Additionally, the exceptional condition of the artifact will allow researchers to study the manufacturing techniques and materials used in its production in great detail. The shipwreck where the amphora was found forms part of an extensive underwater archaeological site currently being meticulously explored by the marine archaeology team from Dokuz Eylül University, renowned for their expertise in the field. The ongoing excavations aim to recover more artifacts that could shed light on maritime life, ship designs, and the trade networks that connected the Byzantine Empire with other regions of the Mediterranean. The Ministry of Culture and Tourism emphasized the importance of this discovery for Turkey’s cultural heritage, noting that Marmaris and its surrounding areas are rich in submerged archaeological remains due to their strategic location along ancient trade routes of the eastern Mediterranean. This remarkable find not only expands our knowledge of trade and navigation during the Byzantine period, but also underscores the critical role of underwater archaeology in preserving and studying history. Excavations at the shipwreck site will continue, with hopes of uncovering more artifacts that can further reconstruct the maritime history of the region. The project also reflects Turkey’s ongoing commitment to protecting and promoting its cultural heritage, both on land and underwater, for future generations.Top Image: Department of Cultural Heritage Conservation and Restoration at Akdeniz University
Ancient DNA Unveils the Cosmopolitan Heart of the Phoenician-Punic Civilization
Imagine a bustling port in ancient Carthage, circa 600 BCE, where Phoenician sailors unload fragrant cedarwood from Lebanon, North African potters shape intricate ostrich-egg urns, and Sicilian merchants barter for shimmering Aegean textiles. This was the Punic world—a dazzling crossroads of cultures, united not by conquest but by the restless tides of trade and human connection. For centuries, historians believed the Phoenicians, famed for their alphabet and seafaring prowess, spread their influence through mass migration from the Levant. Yet an ancient DNA study, published in Nature, shatters this assumption, revealing a civilization woven from diverse threads across the Mediterranean. A Genetic Mosaic of the Punic World Researchers from the Max Planck-Harvard Research Center for the Archaeoscience of the Ancient Mediterranean analyzed DNA from 73 individuals buried at 14 archaeological sites, from the Levant to North Africa, Iberia, and islands like Sicily, Sardinia, and Ibiza. Sites like the evocative Punic necropolis of Puig des Molins on Ibiza capture a civilization at its zenith, when Carthage challenged Rome’s rise. The study, detailed in Scientific American, aimed to trace genetic ties between Punic communities and their Phoenician roots in Levantine cities like Tyre. Scholars once pictured waves of Levantine settlers carrying their culture—language, religion, and the world’s first alphabet—westward. But the DNA tells a different story. “We expected a strong Levantine signal,” says lead researcher Harald Ringbauer, “but found surprisingly little genetic contribution from the Phoenician homeland”. Instead, Punic communities were a kaleidoscope of ancestries, with the largest contributions from people akin to modern Sicilians and Aegean islanders, blended with significant North African roots. In Carthage, individuals with Berber-like ancestry, tied to indigenous North African populations, lived alongside those of Sicilian-Aegean descent, their lives entwined through markets, marriages, and shared rituals. As Science notes, this diversity challenges biblical narratives linking Phoenician identity solely to Canaanite origins. Artifacts mirror this fusion: painted ostrich eggs, a North African hallmark, adorned Punic tombs in Iberia, while pottery blended Aegean and local styles. Remarkably, the study found second cousins—one buried in North Africa, the other in Sicily—proof that family ties spanned the sea. Trade, Not Migration, Shaped a Legacy The Punic civilization, centered in Carthage by the sixth century BCE, was a maritime powerhouse, its ships linking Iberia’s silver mines to Sicily’s grain fields. The DNA evidence reveals a network of trade and intermarriage that shaped both its genetic and cultural landscape. Unlike empires built on conquest, the Punic world thrived on collaboration, weaving local traditions with Phoenician innovations. The alphabet, a gift to modern writing, spread not through Levantine settlers but because diverse communities embraced and adapted it, as Scientific American highlights. This interconnectedness left enduring marks. Carthage’s epic Punic Wars with Rome, including Hannibal’s daring Alpine crossing with elephants, are legendary. Yet the DNA study unveils a quieter legacy: a society where traders, artisans, and farmers drove cultural exchange. “These findings show a deeply interconnected world,” says co-researcher Ilan Gronau, where people mixed across vast distances. The study also challenges Eurocentric views of Mediterranean history. North African ancestry, often overlooked, was a vital thread in the Punic tapestry. Local Tunisian archaeologists, as noted in regional studies, emphasize Carthage’s debt to indigenous Berber contributions, enriching our view of its multicultural roots. This cosmopolitan hub, where ideas flowed as freely as goods, offers a lesson for today’s globalized world: diversity fuels progress. As twilight bathes Carthage’s crumbling ruins, this ancient DNA study invites us to reimagine the Phoenician-Punic legacy. It wasn’t a tale of a single people sweeping westward but of countless individuals—North African, Sicilian, Aegean—building a shared world through trade and trust. Their civilization, born of difference, reminds us that human progress thrives on connection, not division. In our era of cultural blending, the Punic world holds a mirror to our own. More digs and DNA studies promise new chapters in this saga, but for now, the bones of its people whisper a truth: unity in diversity is a legacy worth cherishing. Share your thoughts at allthathistory.com and join us in exploring the ancient wonders that shape our present! Header Image: Phoenicians build pontoon bridges for Xerxes I of Persia during the second Persian invasion of Greece in 480 BC (1915 drawing by A. C. Weatherstone).
![Mérida amphitheatre, Spain; mural of beast hunt, showing a venator (or bestiarius) and lioness. [Public Domain]](https://allthathistory.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/04/gladiator-battle.jpg)
A Lion’s Jaws in Roman Britain: Skeleton Reveals Gladiator’s Fatal Arena Battle
In the shadow of York’s ancient walls, where Roman Eboracum once thrived, a skeleton lay buried for over 1,700 years, its bones whispering a tale of blood, sand, and a lion’s roar. Archaeologists recently uncovered this relic of a man, aged 26 to 35, whose pelvis bore unmistakable bite marks from a large cat—likely a lion. This discovery, reported by Archaeology Magazine, marks the first physical evidence of gladiatorial combat against wild beasts in Roman Britain, confirming tales once thought to be mere spectacle. What drove a man to face such a fate, and what does this find reveal about the Roman Empire’s far-flung entertainments? A Graveyard’s Grim Secret The skeleton, unearthed at Driffield Terrace in York, emerged from what archaeologists call a “gladiator graveyard.” Excavated by the York Archaeological Trust, this cemetery along an old Roman road held 82 skeletons, mostly young men, many bearing signs of violent lives. The 2010 documentary Gladiators: Back From the Dead first spotlighted these remains, suggesting they were gladiators, not soldiers or slaves. But it was the recent find, detailed in a PLOS ONE study, that clinched the theory. Ten bite marks on the man’s pelvis matched those of a lion, identified through 3D scans compared to modern zoo lion bites on horse bones. Malin Holst, a lecturer at the University of York and managing director of York Osteoarchaeology, emphasized the find’s significance: “The bite marks were likely made by a lion, which confirms that the skeletons buried at the cemetery were gladiators, rather than soldiers or slaves” ScienceDaily. The marks suggest the lion dragged the man, possibly after he was already incapacitated. Was he a seasoned fighter, or a condemned soul thrown to beasts for Roman amusement? Blood and Spectacle in Eboracum Gladiatorial games were Rome’s grand theater of violence, blending sport, execution, and spectacle. In the Colosseum, crowds cheered as men battled exotic beasts from Africa’s wilds. Yet in Britain, Rome’s distant province, such events were less documented—until now. This skeleton proves that lion fights reached Eboracum, with animals shipped across continents for the arena’s bloodlust Archaeology Magazine. “For years, our understanding of Roman gladiatorial combat and animal spectacles has relied heavily on historical texts and artistic depictions,” said Professor Tim Thompson from Maynooth University, Ireland. “This discovery provides the first direct, physical evidence that such events took place in this period, reshaping our perception of Roman entertainment culture in the region” ScienceDaily. The man’s bones reveal more than a lion’s attack. Signs of decapitation suggest a mercy killing or ritual beheading, common for defeated gladiators. Buried in a cemetery for society’s outcasts—gladiators, criminals, or soldiers—he lived and died on the empire’s margins, his courage or desperation drawing crowds. Was he a trained fighter, a condemned prisoner, or a war captive? His nameless bones hold only clues, etched in scars and bites PLOS One. Echoes of a Brutal World Gladiators were often slaves, prisoners, or volunteers seeking glory, their lives wagered for public thrill. The York man’s burial, dated between 200 and 300 CE, aligns with Eboracum’s peak as a military and cultural center. His decapitation, noted in the PLOS ONE study, may reflect a mercy killing or ritual practice, severing his head to end suffering or honor custom. Such details ground this story in the grim reality of Roman spectacle, where death was theater. This discovery resonates today, reminding us of humanity’s complex relationship with violence and entertainment. As Reuters reports, the find “highlights the wide-ranging effects of the Roman Empire,” showing how globalized spectacles reached even Britain’s northern fringes. It invites reflection: what modern entertainments echo this thirst for spectacle, and at what cost? For more on Roman Britain’s brutal past, see this article on gladiatorial artifacts. A Legacy in Bone The York skeleton is more than a relic; it’s a testament to lives lived and lost in Rome’s arenas. It challenges us to imagine the courage—or desperation—of a man facing a lion’s jaws, the roar of a crowd ringing in his ears. As researchers continue to study Driffield Terrace, more stories may emerge, piecing together Eboracum’s violent past. For now, this gladiator’s bones urge us to explore history’s shadows, to uncover the human stories beneath the empire’s grandeur. Header Image: Mérida amphitheatre, Spain; mural of beast hunt, showing a venator (or bestiarius) and lioness. [Public Domain]
The Gods of Greece, the Autocrats of the Ancient World (Part Four)
We’re almost at the end of the list of the twelve Olympian gods of ancient Greece. We’ve covered almost all the famous ones by now, but in the ones that remain we see perhaps a gap in between what the Greeks saw as important, and what we see as important today. We have covered the gods of the sky and the sea, clearly vital parts of a functional ecosystem. Alongside them we have noted that the land was for mortals, a kind of neutral territory where all deities could meddle equally (or complain to Zeus if they weren’t getting their way, which happened a deal more than you might think, for gods). We have even thrown in the god of the underworld and the afterlife, who is technically not an Olympian but rather off doing his own thing. We have covered the god of war and the goddess of beauty. We have seen the goddess of motherhood, who was almost always annoyed, and we have seen the goddess of wisdom, who was always right about everything in a way the Greeks found deeply attractive. We have seen the wild goddess of the hunt and her twin, the blonde musclebound (and faintly boring) god of being Greek. Who is left in the pantheon with roles as important as these, which other aspects of the world as the Bronze Age Greeks saw it were represented by these final gods. What was an important as wisdom, as beauty, as creation itself? Some of these may be, at first, surprising to the modern reader. Of the four remaining gods we have two goddesses, of hearth and home and of the harvest, and two gods, one of the forge and one of announcing things. Important jobs, for sure? But interesting for their inclusion nonetheless. These were gods who personified the most important aspects of Greek life, after all. It makes sense for the harvest to be important, but the herald of the gods? Was Hermes just hanging around because Zeus was too busy and too important to make his own proclamations? Similarly, it is pretty easy to understand who any people of the Bronze Age might see the forge as some kind of magic. Metals were the hot new thing, changing the world more rapidly than ever before. He who had command of bronze could rule an empire, so of course this power came with its own god. But a goddess of hearth and home, an area pretty much covered already by Zeus’s wife Hera? What was it about the family unit which merited a second goddess, especially devoted to its safekeeping? And finally, there is the secret god. The thirteenth of the twelve, a younger and a far wilder god than the rest. This last god was the god of wine, or getting completely wrecked in the Greek sunshine and dancing with total abandon and a total lack of care. People died in his orgies, he was that out of control. So these gods may not be, in the end, as important as the gods already covered. But, in their personalities and in the things that differentiate them from the others, they may be the most interesting gods of all. Header Image: Dionysus, a god of resurrection in the same vein as Jesus and the thirteenth of the twelve gods of Olympus. Source: Carole Raddato / CC BY-SA 2.0.
Dacian Treasure Horde found in Romania May Hint at Lost Enclave
Two amateur metal detectorists have found something unexpected in the commune of Breaza in Mureș County, in the heart of Romania. A Dacian treasure trove of silver artifacts has been found, dating back some two thousand years. The Dacians were skilled metalworkers and this new discovery does not disappoint. The horde, found by detectorists Dionisie-Aurel Moldovan and Sebastian-Adrian Zăhan and reported by the Breaza Mures Municipality, consists of six richly decorated pieces. Three brooches, a bracelet, a neck chain and a belt of interlocking plates are all crafted in the distinctive Dacian style. What is surprising about these finds however is where they were found. There are no records of Dacian presence in this part of Romania, at any point in history. These finds, according to our current understanding of the Dacians, simply should not be here. Nor were these the trinkets of some passing Dacian merchant. The craftsmanship of the items argues for them belonging to someone very high up in Dacian society. The flared ends of the bracelet in particular, with their intricate and delicately worked leaf designs, look like something only a member of the Dacian ruling class could afford. Why, then, are they here, far from any known Dacian settlement? There are two main theories, neither entirely satisfactory but both a possibility given these unexpected finds. The first possibility is that these were a secret cache of valuables, hidden away to be retrieved by a retreating Dacian in a time of crisis. Were they hidden out here to buy some lost Dacian lord his way to freedom, only to never be recovered? Or, perhaps even more interestingly, is it our knowledge of the Dacians themselves which is lacking. Are these treasures hidden here because the Dacians did in fact inhabit this region of central Romania, lost to time and unknown for millennia? If the latter is true, it would suggest that there is much more to be found in the region than was previously thought. Perhaps there is a Dacian settlement in the area, waiting just beneath the surface for some enterprising detectorists to stumble upon it. Header Image: The silver artifacts recovered were far from any known Dacian presence. So, what were they doing here? Source: Breaza Mures Municipality.
The Crusades: Four Hundred Years of War (Part One)
The Crusades are perhaps the defining idea of medieval Europe. Over more than four centuries they redefined its history, set it on a new course with a common, foreign enemy against whom the Christian countries could find common cause. They changed Europe forever. Countries rose and fell in the shadow of these religious wars, Christian and Islamic alike. They bonded the Christian countries together but they also destroyed much of the old world of both the Near East and Europe, fanaticism and opportunism o both sides uniting to change the world into something new. Those who took the cross and journeyed eastwards did so for many reasons. Some were devout, some bellicose, some found their hand forced against their will. The flower of chivalric Europe and the very dregs of society made the pilgrimage together to find something new for themselves in a world newly invented, far from home. But the story of the Crusades is not the story of their origin. It is fair to say that, as an idea, they gained a momentum far beyond the vision of those who first came up with the concept. Along the way atrocities were committed in their name, genocides in the name of religion, and the greatest empire in European history was swept aside and lost. The outflow of people from the countries of western Europe led to great changes back home, and those who returned were changed by the world they had found, in turn changing their homes. A new Europe arose from the old and it was the Crusades, as much as anything, which incited this change from the old ways to the new. Depending on how you count them there were at least six, and perhaps as many as ten crusades. We can be sure when they started, almost to the day: it was in November 1095 that the first musterings were ordered, legitimized by new Papal doctrine allied to Christian necessity in the face of Islamic successes in the Near East and Anatolia. For centuries from this point, much of the wealth and power of Europe was devoted to this undertaking, an outpouring which changed the social order. Commoners could become barons, younger sons could inherit ancestral estates. Everything, at home and abroad, was up for grabs. Not bad for a tale which starts with a Pope with a bright idea and a couple of kings in search of good causes. But the real problems started not at the beginning of the First Crusade, but at the end. Nobody really expected the outcome, and nobody was really prepared for what came next. Header Image: Combat between mounted Christian Knights and the Islamic Seljuks in the Second Crusade. Source: Unknown Author / Public Domain.
Did They Really Resurrect the Dire Wolf? Not Exactly…
Recently the papers have been filled with news about a creature brought back to life out of ancient history. The “Dire Wolf” was an enormous canine carnivore found in the Americas from about 125,000 years ago, dying out only 10,000 years before the present day. Firstly, let’s get some misapprehensions about this ancient creature out of the way. It was nowhere near as enormous as most people think, nothing like the huge animals seen in Game of Thrones for example. Dire wolves were about as large as American timber wolves, the largest barely reaching 70 kg or 150 lb. What did make the dire wolf unusual was its enormous jaw and powerful bite, akin to a modern-day hyena but thought to be even stronger. This makes sense for a predator in the late Pleistocene, facing off against the giant herbivores of that era. It needed a strong bite to stand any chance of bringing down a mastodon, or a giant ground sloth. With the loss of these herbivores due to climate change and hunting by humans, the dire wolf also died out. But now, a new claim has been made that the dire wolf is back! A team from Colossal Biosciences has claimed that, using cloning and gene editing, they have produced three dire wolf pups named Romulus, Remus and Khaleesi (we were rolling our eyes, too). Is this the first successful resurrection of an extinct species? Well, not really. The puppies look cute, but these are not in any way connected to the original, American dire wolves. Nor does it seem that any actual cloning was involved. Cloning is a process whereby the existing genetic material is harvested from one creature, transferred into (usually) stem cells or other suitable material, and then grown into an identical copy of the original organism. This has been done before, but only with extant species, and an extinct animal has never been cloned before. Nor have these dire wolves been cloned, they are not exact genetic copies of a long-dead dire wolves. These pups are gray wolves which have had their genes manipulated. Using genetic “references” from a 13,000 year old dire wolf tooth and a 72,000 year old dire wolf ear bone, Colossal Biosciences have modified 14 gray wolf genes to try to make these pups resemble the ancient dire wolf. The pups, born from domestic dogs which were used as surrogate mothers, are therefore genetically modified hybrid gray wolves (Canis lupus), not dire wolves (Aenocyon dirus). They are not in any way related to the original dire wolf, which is form an entirely separate evolutionary genus. Nor are gray wolves themselves descended from dire wolves, the two separating from a shared common ancestor as much as 6 million years ago. So what we have here are a dire wolf “inspired” creature which was made from extant wolves and domestic dogs. These dog/wolf hybrids are a genetic cosplay, an exercise in genetic engineering which appears to come from the “wouldn’t it be cool if” school of scientific research. Of course, this hasn’t stopped the headline grabbing claims and publicity of this kind never hurt anyone. But to call these dire wolves, as in the apex predator from ancient America, is untrue. Header Image: The skeleton of an actual dire wolf from the La Brea Tar Pits, very different from whatever these new “dire wolves” are. Source: Jonathan Chen / CC BY-SA 4.0.
Ancient Egyptian “House of Life” Discovered in Luxor
In the grand necropolis of ancient Thebes on the west bank of the Nile stands a sprawling mortuary complex to one of ancient Egypt’s greatest pharaohs. Known as the Ramesseum, this mortuary temple was a place of worship to the dead Pharaoh Ramesses II, also known as Ramesses the Great. Great columns rise in lines as visitors are guided from one plaza to another. For the Egyptians of the New Kingdom, the mortuary temple should be the greatest memorial to the life of that pharaoh, and there was no greater New Kingdom pharaoh than Ramesses. So large and imposing that it never really needed rediscovering, the temple was identified as a memorial to Ramesses in 1829 by a French orientalist and decipherer of hieroglyphs named Jean-François Champollion. Excavations have continued ever since, and now, as reported by the Egyptian Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities, a new joint project from a French and Egyptian team has found yet more treasures hidden within. The team, made up of individuals from Egypt’s Supreme Council of Antiquities, the National Center for Scientific Research of France, and Frances Sorbonne University, have discovered that the temple functioned as a sort of small town, with everything needed to support visitors. A series of storerooms and cellars on the north side were found to contain olive oil, honey and wine. Elsewhere there are administrative offices for civil servants, workshops producing textiles and dressed stone, kitchens and bakeries, all of which would have supported a semi-permanent population who lived and died in support of the colossal memorial to their dead pharaoh. But perhaps most interesting of all is the “House of Life” found in the temple, filled with educational artifacts. Part memorial, part library, the House of Life would have contained both religious and practical texts, handy for the priests and other servants of the temple to consult whenever required. Elsewhere there is further evidence that this site remained useful not just as a memorial, but as an active necropolis well beyond the death of Ramesses. To the northeast of the site tombs have been found which were built some 600 years after the death of Ramesses, complete with sarcophagi, canopic jars, and finely worked ushabti figures. The discoveries all add up to a site that was active for centuries. Evidence that it was still in use even in the late Ptolemaic period, which ended with Cleopatra and the Romans, show just how significant the Ramesseum was. Header Image: Two canopic jars along with a multitude of ushabti figures found at the Egyptian temple. Source: Egyptian Ministry of Tourism and Antiquities.
