The image of gladiators battling lions in Roman arenas has been confined to mosaics, frescoes, and Hollywood epics. But now, archaeologists have uncovered the first direct skeletal evidence of such a deadly encounter. Oddly enough, it wasn’t among the ruins of the mighty Colosseum, but rather in the remains of a man buried in Roman-era York, England.
The skeleton, discovered in a cemetery along an ancient road leading out of York, bears unmistakable bite marks on its pelvis. The forensic analysis concludes that the wounds came from a lion, likely during a gladiatorial spectacle held in an unidentified amphitheater nearly 1,800 years ago.
“This work is very significant because it is the first time that we have physical evidence of gladiators fighting large animals (in this case a large cat, likely a lion) in the world,” Professor Tim Thompson of Maynooth University told ZME Science.
“We can now start to build a better image of what these gladiators were like in life,” said Malin Holst, osteoarchaeologist at the University of York and director of York Osteoarchaeology. Holst’s team confirmed the bite came from a large cat—likely a lion—by comparing it with known samples from zoo animals.
👎The last stand in the arena
The discovery is based on a single skeleton excavated from Driffield Terrace, a Roman cemetery outside the ancient city of Eboracum (known today as York), which was the largest town in northern Britain and a provincial capital. The man was buried with signs of trauma, both healed and fatal. And he wasn’t alone — this site contains dozens of skeletons, most of them young men who might have shared his fate, although he was the only one with big cat bite marks.
The man, aged between 26 and 35, showed signs of a hard life. He may have suffered from childhood malnutrition and spinal issues from repeated strain. Still, he was strong — perhaps trained for combat. After death, he was likely decapitated, a ritual seen in other Roman-period burials but still poorly understood.
Forensic modeling helped the researchers digitally scan the bite wounds. The marks aligned most closely with those made by a lion. Unlike others, this wound was not healed — a crucial detail. It likely means the bite occurred at the moment of death or shortly before.
“This is a hugely exciting find,” Holst added, “because it confirms the presence of large cats, and potentially other exotic animals, in arenas in cities such as York.”
Direct Evidence of The Stories
Until now, no direct osteological proof had ever confirmed human-animal combat in Britain — or anywhere in the Roman Empire. This is despite artistic depictions and ancient texts that told many stories of such common spectacles. But even if these tales were romanticized or dismissed, this skeleton doesn’t lie.
“The implications of our multidisciplinary study are huge,” said Thompson, the study’s lead author. “Here we have physical evidence for the spectacle of the Roman Empire and the dangerous gladiatorial combat on show.”
“This allows us to move the conversation away from hypothesizing about Roman spectacle in England to showing that it did happen, and therefore maybe it happened in other parts of the Empire too,” he added in an e-mail to ZME Science.
Eboracum — modern-day York — was no ordinary town. By the third century CE, it was a key military and political hub. Constantine the Great was declared emperor there in 306. With Roman elites present, the city likely saw its share of games and rituals, including gladiator bouts.
“York was a very important Roman settlement. The Roman Empire extended throughout England and we have rich archaeological evidence of Roman settlement and activity,” Thompson added.
While an amphitheatre has yet to be found, experts believe one existed nearby.
More than bones: a window into empire
The cemetery at Driffield Terrace first made headlines in 2010. Archaeologists revealed that the men buried there were unusually robust and bore marks of frequent trauma. Isotopic analysis of their teeth showed they came from across the Empire — places like North Africa and the Mediterranean. Their bodies suggest a life of training, violence, and perhaps hope for glory.
Some, like the subject of the new study, were likely bestiarii — gladiators trained to fight animals. These men weren’t always slaves. Some volunteered, driven by debt, thrill, or desperation. “Owners of gladiators would not have wanted them to die,” said Holst. “They were expensive ‘sports people’, not too dissimilar to footballers today.”
This recent study builds on two decades of work since the site was first excavated. “One of the wonderful things about archaeology is that we continue to make discoveries even years after a dig has concluded,” said David Jennings, CEO of York Archaeology.
“The body was excavated about 20 years ago, but new methods and approaches have allowed us to finally answer the question as to what bit this poor person. The study was a great multidisciplinary endeavour,” said Thompson.
For Thompson and his colleagues, this discovery is just the beginning. It opens up new questions. How widespread were these combats in Roman Britain? How were lions and other exotic animals brought and maintained in such distant provinces? And how did the spectacle of death serve the machinery of empire?
For now, one skeleton speaks louder than centuries of speculation. A man once stood in an arena in Britain, staring into the eyes of a lion.
The findings appeared in the journal PLOS One.
