Museum of Virgil opens among rediscovered medieval murals

A new museum dedicated to the Roman epic poet Virgil has opened in Mantua, Virgil’s hometown, in a newly-restored 13th century palace. Visitors to the museum will have the opportunity to see art and artifacts related to Rome’s poet laureate in eight galleries, each dedicated to a different aspect of Virgil’s life and work, in a setting that is itself a rediscovered gem of medieval art.

Publius Vergilius Maro was born a few miles from Mantua on the Ides of October, 70 B.C. From a family of some means in what was then Cisalpine Gaul (the Roman province of Gaul “on this side of the Alps”), Virgil was highly educated and published his first collection of poetry, the Eclogues, around 38 B.C. Its success garnered him entre into the literary circle of Octavian’s supporters. He wrote the Georgics between 37 and 29 B.C., then turned to his greatest masterpiece, the Aeneid, written in the last ten years of his life (29-19 B.C.). He died of illness in southern Italy and was buried in Naples, but Mantua was still very much on his mind in his final days. He wrote his own epitaph that was inscribed on his tomb: “Mantua me genuit; Calabri rapuere; tenet nunc Parthenope. Cecini pascua, rura, duces.” (“Mantua gave birth to me, Calabrians took it away; Parthenope [the Greek name for Naples] holds me now; I sang of pastures, farms, and commanders.”)

Mantua has boasted of its beloved native son since antiquity, a devotion that was amplified in the High Middle Ages when Virgil was a keystone of the intellectual and cultural revival known as the Renaissance of the 12th century. Dante made Virgil his guide and role model through Hell and Purgatory in the Divine Comedy.

Medieval statue of Virgil with fresco in the background. Photo courtesy Silvia Talarico.Built in the thick of this revival in 1227, the Palazzo del Podestà was the seat of municipal administration for Mantua for hundreds of years. Virgil has always been part of the fabric of the building. It was called the Palazzo Virgilio at one point. A 12th century statue of Virgil in medieval doctoral robes with a writing desk on his lap adorned a niche in the façade. That has been moved into the museum now. The other niche holds a statue of the Virgin Mary, just to convey the elevated status the poet held (and holds).

It has been home to several museums, a courthouse, even a prison since its retirement as a government building, but was heavily damaged in the two major earthquakes that struck Northern Italy in May of 2012. In 2017, the city embarked on a comprehensive campaign of repair and restoration of the huge palace which covers 97,000 square feet of space in 227 rooms on seven levels. The project cost 24 million euros and was completed at the end of 2023. Over the next year, part of the renovated palazzo was converted into a museum dedicated to Virgil.

In the immediate aftermath of the 2012 earthquakes, a hidden treasure emerged during emergency shoring up works: medieval murals of high quality covering whole walls of the palazzo. They were explored, stabilized and conserved during the restoration project.

The images depict the months of the year through work scenes and astrological references, creating a bridge between the harmony of natural time and human life. This illustrated codex, with high didactic value, offers a visual experience capable of captivating both experts and casual visitors.

Alongside the Cycle of the Months, the walls of the Upper Masseria house frescoes depicting scenes from chivalric and mythological tales, including armigers in battle and centaurs. An enigmatic soldier with capride legs could represent, according to the hypothesis of Veronica Ghizzi, the museum’s director, a variation on the iconography of King Arthur, a symbol of mad and disorderly undertakings, in stark contrast to the harmony celebrated in the Cycle of Months.

The theme of nature, central to the Cycle of Months, relates directly to Virgil’s Georgics, where the poet celebrates agricultural labor as an instrument of peace and cosmic order. Virgil’s vision, which contrasts the harmony of celestial time with the chaos of human conflicts, finds a perfect representation in the medieval cosmology reproposed by the frescoes. The museum tour also allows visitors to see heraldic frescoes from 1473 and, in the Arengario, a frieze about a meter high, laid on white plaster, with insignia from the time of Federico II Gonzaga.

The Virgil Museum is not limited to frescoes, however: visitors can admire a number of artworks and artifacts related to the poet. Notable among these are the Virgil in the Chair, a 13th-century polychrome sculpture, and the Throne of Virgil, an artifact from the 2nd century BC. Also of great interest are Gonzaga coins bearing the poet’s effigy, a fragment of a 1540 fresco depicting his face, a bust of Virgil from the first half of the 16th century, and ancient volumes of his works. Each piece on display helps tell the story of the unbreakable bond between Virgil and Mantua, a connection that the museum aims to make tangible and accessible to all.

The Virgil Museum officially opened its doors on December 7th.

Only known portrait from life of last Byzantine emperor discovered

Conservators working in the Old Monastery of Taxiarches in Aigialeia West Greece, on the Peloponnese peninsula, have uncovered a mural portrait of the last Byzantine emperor, Constantine XI Palaiologos (r. 1449-1453). It is the last portrait of a reigning Byzantine emperor in a monumental painting known to survive and the only portrait of Constantine made during his very brief reign.

The portrait was found under a later layer of murals in the monastery’s church. The painting depicts a bearded man wearing a diademed crown with a photostefano (halo disk) behind his head. He holds a cruciform scepter and wears a purple cloak embroidered with gold. The garment is decorated with medallions, most prominently a double-headed eagle, emblem of the Palaiologos dynasty emperors and senior members of the imperial family. The crown between the two heads identifies the subject as the emperor himself.

It is not the idealized, allegorical portraiture typical of Byzantine art, but rather a realistic portrayal that conveys the individualized facial features of the man. This was not an official portrait created from an imperial-issue template, as was customary at the time; it was painted by someone who saw the emperor and painted what he saw.

Constantine XI Palaiologos had a very short reign at the end of a tumultuous, war-torn period that culminated in the demise of the moribund Byzantine Empire. Before he ascended the throne, he was despot (initially a court title given to the son of the emperor that evolved into a ruler of an independent principate) of Morea for five years. We know from the Byzantine Greek historian Laonikos Chalkokondyles that Constantine’s brothers, Demetrius and Thomas, financed the renovation of the monastery when they were co-despots of Morea in 1449. The painter of the Taxiarches monastery portrait was probably from Mystras, the capital of Morea and a cultural center under the Palaiologoi, and was commissioned to paint the portrait by Demetrius and Thomas.

Westminster Abbey seal bag matches Charlemagne’s burial shroud

Researchers have discovered that a small silk bag attached to a document at Westminster Abbey matches Charlemagne’s burial shroud. It is woven in a pattern of white hares and floral motifs and dates to the early 12th century. The textile was not the first shroud used in the burial of the first Holy Roman Emperor who died in 814, but rather the one that wrapped his body when his body was reinterred in the Karlsschrein, an ornate shrine decorated in gold, silver, enamel and gemstones, in Aachen Cathedral in 1215. The same textile was used in 1267 as a bag to protect the wax impression of the Great Seal of King Henry III on a document relating to Westminster Abbey’s shrine of Edward the Confessor.

The cloth was sewn into a pouch to protect the wax impression of Henry III that the king had affixed to an inventory of items from Westminster Abbey’s shrine to Edward the Confessor that Henry had pawned to pay his war debts. In the document, the king promised to replace the jewels and precious objects he’d put in hock within 18 months. It seems he made good on this promissory note.

Seal bags were used to cover the wax seal impressions that were affixed to charters and other documents to authenticate the identity of the signer. Wax impressions were soft, and as legal signatures of kings, queens, nobles, bishops and other august personages, they were not only legally important, but also inherently authentic relics. The signatories held those blobs of wax when they were still warm; they left physical impressions of themselves like fingerprints and oils alongside the impressions of their official seals. Because of their layered significance, the wax impressions were bagged for their protection, and the textiles used to make the bags were precious too, often panni tartarici (Islamic silks dyed with plants imported from as far away as China and woven with gold and silver threads).

Charlemagne’s shrine was opened in 1988 and photos taken at that time documented the burial shroud. The shroud is intact, so the piece in Westminster Abbey was not cut from the wrap itself, but it had to have been made by the same weavers on the same looms. The sumptuous textile was created by specialty weavers in Islamic Spain or the eastern Mediterranean, and the pattern would not have been available from any other source; there were no knock-offs floating around or mass-produced inventory stacked in warehouses.

As the textile that wrapped the body of an emperor who was venerated as a saint in the territories he once ruled (hence the translation of his bones into a reliquary by Emperor Frederick II), the silk held great significance. It may have even been deliberately chosen by Henry III to make an iconographic association between the well-established cult of the German king Charlemagne and the nascent cult of the English king Edward the Confessor.

It remains a mystery about how the Abbey received such a piece of high value silk but a possible theory offered by Matthew Payne, Keeper of the Muniments, who oversees the Abbey’s archives, is that the silk could have been a gift from Henry III’s brother, Richard Earl of Cornwall who is known to have given precious cloths to the Abbey. Richard was crowned Holy Roman Emperor in 1257 which was over 400 years after his predecessor Charlemagne.

The bag (and the document it is attached to) is on display ​at Westminster Abbey in the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee Galleries through Easter 2025.

Heirloom Roman cup from Anglo-Saxon grave contained pig fat

A Roman bronze enameled cup has been identified from a 6th century burial in the Anglo-Saxon burial ground at Scremby on the east coast of Lincolnshire. While vessels of this type have been found in the UK before, this is a rare example unearthed from its original context during a modern, secure archaeological excavation instead of by amateur metal detectorists and antiquarians of centuries past.

The burial ground was first discovered by a metal detectorist in 2018. He found a few Anglo-Saxon artifacts and reported them to the Lincolnshire Finds Liaison Officer. The nature of the objects suggested they may be grave goods, so University of Sheffield archaeologists were engaged to excavate the site. Over the course of their investigation, the team unearthed 49 graves dating to between 480 and 540 A.D., almost all of them containing a rich complement of funerary goods. Many of the deceased were women buried with exceptionally lavish arrays of jewelry, grooming tools and accessories.

Since the excavation, the contents of the graves, including the human remains, metal artifacts and elephant ivory bag rings, have been analyzed by researchers in multiple disciplines. The ivory rings were roughly contemporary with the burials, expensive imports from Kingdom of Aksum in what is now Eritrea, symbols and wealth and status to the women who wore them and were buried with them.

In contrast to most of the other graves, the burial containing the Roman cup was modest. It belonged to an adolescent female who was interred wearing only two plain annular brooches and a pair of wrist clasps, jewelry that was so common they’ve been found in 90% of 6th century female burials in Lincolnshire. Only two of the 48 other burials have fewer grave goods than hers.

The cup, however, was unique and special. Only two other containers were found in Scremby graves, and both of them were plain ceramic vessels buried in male graves that had other rich furnishings including shield bosses, spears and knives. It was placed near her head and unlike other fragments of Roman metalwork found in the burial ground, it was intact and in usable condition. It even retains its soldered base, made of a thin sheet of metal (.8mm at its thickest) so fragile that comparable vessels usually are missing this piece. It is 2.25 inches high and at full volume would have contained no more than 9.5 fluid ounces of liquid. The exterior is decorated with vertical panels of insets in different half-moon, heart, trumpet and triangle shapes that were infilled with enamel in bright colors of aquamarine, red and deep purple-blue. None of the enameled bronze Roman vessels on the archaeological record of Britain share the same design pattern. Closer, but not identical, parallels are known from France.

The French examples date to the second half of the 3rd century, and while similar British vessels were previously believed to date to the 1st or 2nd century, metallurgic analysis of the cup found the alloy was consistent with that produced in Roman Britain in the 3rd century. That means this cup was probably at least 300 years old when it was buried with the girl at Scremby.

A micro-excavation of the soil inside the cup found organic residue just above the base. Analysis of the residue sample found high concentration of saturated fatty acids consistent with degraded pig fat. Researchers could not determine whether the fat had been cooked — as part of a stew, for example — or whether it was raw. If the latter, it could conceivably had had a cosmetic purpose, but that is unlikely in the absence of any other ingredients commonly found in cosmetic preparations. It could instead have been medicinal, as 6th century sources do claim the Franks used raw bacon fat to cure intestinal problems and aid in the clean healing of wounds. The cup’s placement in a prominent place within a burial suggests it had ritual significance, and as the only vessel found inside a female grave and the only one with organic residue, it seems likely it fulfilled some unknown ceremonial function.

As for how a 3rd century cup wound up in a young girl’s grave three centuries later, there are two probable scenarios: it was scavenged from a Roman grave for reuse as a funerary object, or it was a lovingly preserved family heirloom. Scans of the cup found no evidence of repair, which such a fragile item almost certainly would have required had it been in active use for 300 years. On the other hand, it was fragile enough that the wafer-thin base, at least, would have been damaged even if it had been concealed in a grave for all that time. It would have had to have bene treated with kid gloves, not like a utilitarian object, for generations to make it into the girl’s grave intact.

Her skeletal remains and those of the other deceased in the Scremby burials are now undergoing DNA analysis, so additional information about her may yet come to light. The study of the cup has been published in the European Journal of Archaeology and can be accessed in its entirety here.

Medieval silver gilt earscoop found in Norfolk

A rare decorated parcel-gilt silver earscoop from the Middle Ages was discovered by a metal detectorist in King’s Lynn, Norfolk, in July. The whole piece is just 1.7 inches long and is composed of a shaft that is square in cross-section with a widened, flattened end hollowed out to form a scoop on one side and a flattened square end on the other. The square end bears some resemblance to a modern cuticle pusher, but if it had a usage in the Middle Ages, it was more likely to have been used to clean under fingernails. The shank is z-twisted (turned clockwise) and partially gilded. It was decorated with punchmarks using a sharp tool inserted at an angle that left a triangular divot and a small blob of silver at the base of the triangle. Unlike Roman earscoops, this one has no perforation to suspend it, so despite its small size it was carried rather than worn.

County finds liaison officer Helen Geake said scoops were “really, really hard to date”, but a line of dots punched along its “barley twist” handle suggested to her it is later medieval rather than from the earlier Roman period in Britain.

Just 20 silver ear scoops have been recorded on the Portable Antiquities website since it was created more than 25 years ago, making it a rare find, she added.

“For comparison with other medieval silver items, there are 1,200 brooches, 1,200 finger rings and 29 pins on the database,” Dr Geake said.

Several of its features are unusual compared to the other medieval earscoops recorded in the PAS database. Most of the others have a tapered point on the opposite end of the scoop, believed to have been used as a toothpick, as gross as that is. The flat square on the other end of this scoop has not been seen before. The partial gilding is extremely rare. The z-twist is also unusual; most of the other recorded earscoops have an s-twist (turned counter-clockwise). Any decoration at all along the twisted shank is so rare there’s only one other recorded example, and it has engraved lines, not punchmarks.

The fact that the few medieval earscoops that have been found are primarily made of silver attests to their being the province of the wealthy. (Silver and gold were even more rare before the colonization of the Americas spurred a new influx of precious metals to Europe in the 16th century.) Most people probably didn’t use earscoops at all, rather than making them from inexpensive materials.

Because it is made of a precious metal and is more than 300 years old, the earscoop qualifies as Treasure under the 1996 Treasure Act. Its official status will be adjudicated by a coroner’s court, after which a local museum will be given the opportunity to acquire it for an amount determined by a valuation committee. The Norwich Castle Museum is hoping to secure it for its collection.