Roman Mosaic Found in England Portraying Iliad

The Best of Finds, A Roman Mosaic

The Roman period in Britain has given up many archaeological treasures. In recent years, still legible wooden tablets faced with wax that Romans used for writing have come to light. I particularly enjoy all the exquisite shoes from Vindolanda and elsewhere. However, a recent chance discovery revealed one of the most prized finds: Roman mosaic floors. A thirteen-year-old on a farm found the first sign of the mosaic while he was on a walk. Mostly intact mosaics are impressive to everyone. It’s inspiring to watch an archaeologist gently brush free a lost artistic vision from the covering soil. The announcement of this find has appeared in lots of news stories.

The Best of Subjects: Part I, The Battle

This newly found mosaic appeals to me, especially, because of its subject matter. It portrays scenes from the end of Homer’s Iliad. There is one panel showing Achilles confronting Hector, both heroes in their chariots. You can look at a photo of this part of the mosaic in an article in the California News Times, “Rare Roman mosaic found on farm in Great Britain”. For some reason, almost none of the articles except this one show this panel, and I enjoyed seeing it.

The mosaic has suffered fire damage, apparently, according to some of the news coverage. Unfortunately, the damage makes the mosaics a little hard to see. Besides that issue, these mosaics present, in my opinion, slightly rustic artistry. If you’ve stood in the Naples museum before the Pompeii mosaics, you’ve seen more refined artisanship. However, these panels communicate a vivid emotional message. And they’ve chosen to depict a powerful sequence of events. Indeed, the fact that a villa owner in Roman Britain wanted the Iliad on his floor makes a fascinating statement about the lasting influence of Homer throughout the classical world.

The Best of Subjects: Part II, The Grief

The panels clearly reference the Iliad, not just the Trojan myths in general. The panel most often included in news coverage shows my favorite moment from the poem. (The same scene depicted more lavishly at the top of this post by French painter Langlois in 1809.) The Trojan King Priam comes into the Greek military camp to beg for the corpse of his son.

By that point, Achilles, the greatest of the Greek warriors, has dragged Hector’s body around the walls of Troy in his rage over the loss of his closest companion, Patroclus. Priam braves Achilles’ fury and abases himself to kiss the hand that slaughtered so many of his sons. In doing so, he reminds Achilles of his own aged father, alone back home, mourning for his son. Achilles knows he’s never making it back. The commonality of fatherly love and grief binds the two. Achilles promises to return Hector’s body for proper burial and declares a truce for as many days as Priam needs for his son’s funeral. I enjoyed creating my own vision of that encounter in my Trojan War novel, Hand of Fire.

Here’s an article with a photo of the mosaic panel with Priam, in the Guardian, “Rutland’s Roman mosaics bring the Trojan Wars to life in the East Midlands.” Natalie Haynes wrote this piece, and it’s the best of all the many articles. She’s a classicist and stand up comedian–how’s that for a combination! Haynes is the author of an excellent novel set within the Trojan War, A Thousand Ships, and also Pandora’s Jar, Women in the Greek Myths .

Alexander Pope’s version of Priam Beseeching Achilles

For a well-rounded conclusion, I will give you the Priam and Achilles scene from the Iliad in Alexander Pope’s 1720 blank verse (Book 24, lines 600-669). It’s a stately, beautiful translation, if a little distant. I confess I usually fought off tears when I read aloud this portion to my students (in more modern version). I’m hoping it had a similar effect on some of them.

Unseen of all huge Priam enter’d, stood
Near to Achilles, clasp’d his knees, and kiss’d
Those terrible and homicidal hands
That had destroy’d so many of his sons.
As when a fugitive for blood the house
Of some chief enters in a foreign land,
All gaze, astonish’d at the sudden guest,
So gazed Achilles seeing Priam there,
And so stood all astonish’d, each his eyes
In silence fastening on his fellow’s face.
But Priam kneel’d, and suppliant thus began.

Think, oh Achilles, semblance of the Gods!
On thy own father full of days like me,
And trembling on the gloomy verge of life,
Some neighbor chief, it may be, even now
Oppresses him, and there is none at hand,
No friend to succor him in his distress.
Yet, doubtless, hearing that Achilles lives,
He still rejoices, hoping, day by day,
That one day he shall see the face again
Of his own son from distant Troy return’d.
But me no comfort cheers, whose bravest sons,
So late the flower of Ilium, all are slain.
When Greece came hither, I had fifty sons;
Nineteen were children of one bed, the rest
Born of my concubines. A numerous house!
But fiery Mars hath thinn’d it. One I had,
One, more than all my sons the strength of Troy,
Whom standing for his country thou hast slain—
Hector—his body to redeem I come
Into Achaia’s fleet, bringing, myself,
Ransom inestimable to thy tent.
Reverence the Gods, Achilles! recollect
Thy father; for his sake compassion show
To me more pitiable still, who draw
Home to my lips (humiliation yet
Unseen on earth) his hand who slew my son.

So saying, he waken’d in his soul regret
Of his own sire; softly he placed his hand
On Priam’s hand, and push’d him gently away.
Remembrance melted both. Rolling before
Achilles’ feet, Priam his son deplored
Wide-slaughtering Hector, and Achilles wept
By turns his father, and by turns his friend
Patroclus; sounds of sorrow fill’d the tent.
But when, at length satiate, Achilles felt
His heart from grief, and all his frame relieved,
Upstarting from his seat, with pity moved
Of Priam’s silver locks and silver beard,
He raised the ancient father by his hand,
Whom in wing’d accents kind he thus bespake.

Wretched indeed! ah what must thou have felt!
How hast thou dared to seek alone the fleet
Of the Achaians, and his face by whom
So many of thy valiant sons have fallen?
Thou hast a heart of iron, terror-proof.
Come—sit beside me—let us, if we may,
Great mourners both, bid sorrow sleep awhile.
There is no profit of our sighs and tears;
For thus, exempt from care themselves, the Gods
Ordain man’s miserable race to mourn.

Here for another post about a Roman mosaic also found in a field, but in Italy.