Top 10 Unsolved Roman Mysteries

These twelve sided shapes made from copper alloy have been discovered in various locations across the Roman Empire. So far, archeologists have unearthed a hundred and twenty in total, mostly in Gaul and Roman Germany. Each dodecahedron has a hole in each side and circular knobs on each corner. These metal objects would have been expensive to make, but their purpose is still unknown. As many were found in coin hauls, we can assume that they were considered valuable. Or perhaps they were used in connection with money? Other theories vary widely. Could they be a measuring tool for the battlefield, a candle clock, knitting gloves or a form of dice? Maybe one day we’ll find out.

In 2017, the examination of a Romano-British skeleton raised more questions than it answered. The man was believed to have been in his thirties at the time of death. He was buried face down, with a stone in his mouth in place of a tongue. But why? For a small farming community in Roman Britain, this kind of mutilation was not usual practice. However, archeologists believe that to be interred face down suggests that this person was a strange or dangerous individual. He may have been buried this way to ensure that he didn’t rise from the grave and continue to wreak havoc. Perhaps the tongue was severed as a punishment, or was it lost through other means?

This infamous coup took place in 63 BCE. Catiline was a Roman politician who attempted to take control of the consulate by force after failing to be elected three times. The story of his rebellion has become sensationalized over the years and scholars agree that accounts from the time are extremely biased. After all, history is written by the victors. Marcus Tullius Cicero was Catiline's political rival and the man who uncovered the conspiracy. Cicero is believed to have exaggerated the scale of the threat to further his career. So was Catiline’s conspiracy a serious insurrection that shook Rome at the roots? Or was it an unimportant footnote in history, mythologized by a politician seeking to make himself look more impressive?

On the outskirts of Pompeii sits the “Villa of Mysteries,” named for the elaborate frescoes painted on the walls of one room. The inhabitants of the house met their deaths when Vesuvius erupted, but the frescoes are astonishingly well preserved. So who are the people in the paintings and what story do these images tell? Experts think that the figures may depict real women who lived in the villa. They appear to be participating in a marriage rite associated with Bacchus, the God of wine and festivities. The Greco-Roman mystery cult dedicated to Bacchus has a scandalous reputation, thanks to Roman writers such as Livy. But the secrets of the cult remain as mysterious as the frescoes themselves.

In the ancient city of Gabii, just over ten miles from Rome, a major archeological dig took place back in 2010. The most intriguing discovery was a sarcophagus made of lead, folded like a burrito and buried right in the middle of what was once a city block. As lead was pretty expensive back in the fourth or fifth century, it’s likely that the coffin contains a person of importance. The location is also significant, as Romans would not normally bury their dead inside city limits. We are yet to learn the identity of the body and the reasons behind this unusual burial. However, other lead sarcophagi have been found to hold the bodies of women of rank, soldiers, Christian leaders, and female gladiators.

Titus Livius, better known as Livy, was a famous ancient chronicler of Roman history. His notable work “From the Founding of the City” details the early days of Rome and the legends surrounding it. In its original form, it had 142 books, taking us from 386 BCE to 9CE. Frustratingly, books 11 to 20 and 46 to 142 have been lost to the ages. Some of the later volumes may have been considered too controversial to be widely published while the reigning emperor was still alive. However, part of their content is known from summaries, speeches and scrolls, dating from the 1st Century CE and later.

The town of Baiae, which overlooks the bay of Naples, was a favored holiday destination of ancient Rome’s wealthy citizens. Due to its reputation for hedonism, some historians have even dubbed the town,“the Las Vegas of the Ancient world.” Much of the one-time resort is now underwater, but it still makes a fascinating study. Baiae’s biggest curiosity is its underground tunnel network, leading from a hidden chamber. A sulfurous stream runs through the caves, with a landing stage at one end. At the other is a staircase leading to a secret sanctuary. We don’t know when or why the tunnels were built. However, many believe they were intended to replicate the journey to the Underworld.

Back in Ancient Roman times, one particular plant was considered worth its weight in Denarii. This was silphium, a plant with black roots and yellow flowers, thought to be part of the fennel family. It was probably harvested to extinction, but we know what it looks like, because the people of ancient Cyrene immortalized it on their coins. So why was silphium so highly prized? The Romans used it as both a contraceptive and an aphrodisiac, as well as in their cooking. It was said to treat a range of ailments, from a sore throat to indigestion. It’s mentioned in poems and songs and some called it a gift from the gods. But was it really all it’s cracked up to be?

Originally an Iranian deity, Mithras was a god of war, justice and the sun. In the 2nd and 3rd centuries, worship of Mithras was permitted and even considered a sign of loyalty to the Roman emperor. However, when Emperor Constantine embraced Christianity, the old religion went underground. Almost no written texts survive from the Mithran mystery cult, which was wiped out by the end of the 4th century. However, many of their cavern-like temples survive. Most of what we understand about Mithraism comes from ancient sculptures and graffiti but for the most part, the mysteries of Mithras remain a mystery.

Immortalized in Rosemary Sutcliff’s classic novel “The Eagle of the Ninth” and its adaptations, the lost legion of the Ninth has fascinated historians for centuries. This Roman fighting force was stationed in Britain as late as 108 CE. Later evidence of the Ninth has also been found at a legionary base in the Netherlands, although this may suggest a small detachment of men rather than a whole legion. After 120 CE, the Ninth Hispana disappears entirely from the records. But how did 6,000 men simply drop off the face of the earth? Were they disbanded or amalgamated with another legion? Or did they go down fighting, in Europe or beyond Hadrian’s wall? We can guess, but we may never know the truth.

So what are your theories? And how often do you think about the Roman Empire?