LEARNING FROM CURSE
TABLETS: WHAT THE DEFIXIONES TELL US OF THE ANCIENT WORLD
‘Defixiones…come to us largely unmediated by external
filters…devoid of the distortions introduced by factors such as education, social
class or status, and literary genres and traditions. Most of all, they are
intensely personal and direct.’
(Cooper et al, 1992; v)
The curse-tablets or defixiones
of the ancient world were buried as messages to the gods or spirits, asking for
the binding of one’s enemies. Two thousand years later, archaeologists 
started reading their post. Now, these
tablets are seen as far more than evidence of private magic being used to vent
petty frustrations. The defixiones can be incredibly revealing; these
texts inform us of religious beliefs, magic practices, the influences on these
practices, language, class, education, technology, public life, private
affairs, and, most tellingly, human nature. Within this essay, I shall be
looking at all of these elements to see what we can learn from the defixiones.
For while we might not get to see the ‘real’ author (but rather a highly
emotional one), people confided in the tablets as they would be loath to do to
a real person, and the picture which they paint of life in the ancient world is
an incredibly vivid one.
WHAT
ARE CURSE TABLETS?
Pulleyn (1997; p83) quotes D.R. Jordan in identifying
the purpose of the curse tablets as being ‘to influence, by supernatural means,
the actions or the welfare of persons or animals against their will’. These tablets, which were usually inscribed
sheets of metal, held ‘appeals to a deity or supernatural force to inhibit
physical or mental processes of the cursed’ (Wacher, 
1978; p241). They would
be buried underground, usually in a well or grave, so as to ‘make use of’ the
chthonic powers, or ghosts of dead men (Liebeschuetz, 1979; p138). The curse
tablets tend to fall into one of the following categories; ‘Competition in
Theatre and Circus’, ‘Sex, Love, and Marriage’, ‘Tongue-Tied in Court: Legal
and Political Disputes’, ‘Businesses, Shops, and Taverns’, and ‘Pleas for
Justice and Revenge’, although there are miscellaneous exceptions which cover
eventualities not included within these five groupings. Almost all of the curse
tablets are directed towards living creatures, although there are a small
number of examples which curse inanimate objects, such as public baths, the
gates of Rome, or Italy itself (Cooper et al, 1992; ix, p21-2, p171-4).
No matter the subjects which they cover, however, all fall into one of two
categories – that of revenge, or a pre-emptive strike (Pulleyn, 1997; p86).
WHAT
ARE ‘DEFIXIONES’?
In
today’s literature, the curse tablets are usually referred to by the Latin term
defixiones, rather than their Greek name of katadesmoi (Cooper et al, 1992; p3). Both
titles refer to the constraining nature of the tablets; the earliest mention of
the katadecmoi is found in the Attic writers, and ‘may reflect the fact that the texts of
most early Attic examples begin with the word katadw,, ‘I bind’ – and possibly the idea that
the rolling up of the tablets was a kind of binding’. This physical and
metaphorical act of binding is also reflected in the later Latin term defixiones,
which is derived from the verb defigo, meaning ‘to nail down’ (Jameson,
Jordan & Kotanksy, 1993; p125).
HOW
MANY ARE THERE?
In 1993, 1,100 examples of curse tablets
had been excavated in Greece, all of which dated from the late sixth or early
fifth century BC, up to the fifth century AD. While they have been unearthed at
sites across the Mediterranean, Sicily and Attica have revealed the greatest
finds from the classical and Hellenistic periods (Jameson, Jordan &
Kotanksy, 1993; p125). More than 1500 curse tablets are now known in total; of
these, two-thirds are Greek, and over half of the Latin examples have been
found in Britain (Cooper et al, 1992; p5).
The numbers of defixiones
unearthed which pertain to different subjects can give an indication of how
important those matters were to the local peoples.
By 1996, Britain had
yielded over 250 curse-tablets, almost all of which were found at the temple of
Mercury at Uley in Gloucestershire, and the sacred Spring of Sulis Minerva at
Bath (Tomlin, 1996). That the overwhelming majority of these British tablets are
concerned with stolen property can be traced to either the archaeological
‘hazards of preservation and discovery’, or the fact that recovering stolen
property was the sole preoccupation of the Britons of late antiquity (Cooper et
al, 1992; p177). That the majority of bath-house tablets are concerned with
thefts is perhaps understandable, however – thieves have been a problem in such
establishments since the time of Plautus, and are mentioned by Catullus,
Seneca, and Petronius (Fagan, 1999). It is also fitting that most of the sites
yielding defixiones from Roman Britain are those which also house
appeals for health; ‘forces that bestow health could also withhold it’ (Salway,
1981; p688). The numbers cannot be taken as unusually disproportional either;
more curse tablets have been found dedicated to revenge and justice than
anything else. The second largest group is that of the legal defixiones
(Cooper et al, 1992; p177, 117). Evidently these were the areas where
people felt they needed the most assistance. In ‘third place’ are the love defixiones;
approximately a quarter of the surviving curse tablets concern ‘matters of the
heart’ (Cooper et al, 1992; p78). Of these, the defixiones
concerned with homosexual desires [see Appendix, example 5] comprise less than 1% of the total as a
whole (Daniel & Maltomini, 1990); that they do appear at all, however,
enables us to gain a more accurately representative idea of life in the ancient
world.
WHAT
ARE THEY MADE OF?
Some believe that the defixiones
were originally thought of as ‘letters to the deities of the underworld’;
corroboratory evidence comes from some of the curse tablets actually describing
themselves as such, and, as mentioned below, that in the ancient world lead was
used as a writing material (Pulleyn,
1997; p85). However, while the majority of the surviving curse tablets are made
of lead or lead alloys, other materials were also used; papyrus and wax were
the most popular alternatives, although others favoured limestone, ceramic
bowls or gemstones. Strips of gold or silver were prescribed for Roman spells
restraining anger, but these materials were usually reserved for curative medical
spells or protective amulets (Cooper et
al, 1992; p3, 31).
The popularity of lead for the making of
the defixiones has a four-fold explanation; it was cheap and readily
available, the sheets for the tablets were easy to make, it was the most common
(and possibly the earliest) writing material, and its physical characteristics
(e.g. being cold, lustre-less, weighty and ordinary) were well suited to the
context in which it was used. It is notable, however, that the earliest tablets
do not ask that their intended victims become like lead - this associative
development came later, as the popularity of lead for the curse tablets grew
[see Appendix, example 2].
Another point in lead’s favour was that it was also a substance that could
easily be stolen – some ‘recipes’ for curse tablets recommended those unable to
buy lead could steal it from nearby water pipes (Cooper et al, 1992;
p4). It ought also to be remembered that the archaeological record may have
‘skewed’ the results in lead’s favour, as it were – other substances, such as
papyrus or wax could have been more popular than is currently believed, but
they did not survive burial (or effective drowning) as the lead tablets did
(Petrovitch, 2000).
It is notable that the
tablets found at Aquae Sulis (Bath), although usually referred to as
being made of lead, have been found to contain other metals; one in five is
two-thirds lead, while the rest are alloys of lead and tin, that have sometimes
been fused with copper. It has been suggested that this alloy, seemingly
peculiar to England, was a by-product of the local pewter industry, much as the
Greek lead used in curse tablets could have been a by-product of their silver
mines (Cooper et al, 1992; p3-4). Evidently, the choice of material for the curse tablets can
reflect both the fashion of the times, and also the products produced by the
local industries.
WHY
WERE THEY NAILED?
As is
indicated by the Latin term of defixiones, iron or bronze nails were
often used to pierce the metal tablet after it has been rolled or folded (Pulleyn, 1997; p82-3), as is
particularly evident from the early Attican remains (Jameson, Jordan &
Kotanksy, 1993; p125); this action cannot have had purely practical reasons
behind it. Although in some cases the nails were used to fix the tablets to
walls, as at Aquae Sulis (Fagan, 1999), or to the floor of stadiums, as at Lepcis Magna
(Heintz, 1998), the defixiones would usually be buried
underground or cast into water sources, where their being folded and nailed
together would be a superfluous preventative measure against being read by
another. Indeed, it is
believed by Kagarow that the nails themselves held symbolic meaning for the
authors of the tablets; their presence was intended to add pain and misery to
the spell, in a manner akin to the voodoo doll practice. This explanation,
however, does not account for the appearance of nails in love spells. Far more
plausible is the idea that their function was to fix or bind the curse,
physically as well as ‘magically’, as the double-meaning of their name would
suggest (Cooper et al, 1992; p18).
WHERE
WERE THEY BURIED?
The
place of deposit for the curse tablets was almost as important as the texts
themselves; their ‘magic’ could only be initiated by the defixiones
being buried in either a grave, a chthonic sanctuary, a body of water, a place
of relevance to the curse or victim, or a non-chthonic sanctuary (Petrovitch, 2000). Those early tablets – of which there have
been ‘discouragingly’ few unearthed in recorded excavations – tend to be found
in graves and chthonic sanctuaries. By contrast, in later times the tablets
could also be discovered in wells, or places close to their intended ‘victims’
(Jameson, Jordan & Kotanksy, 1993; p125). The location of
their hiding place depended on the type of curse employed. Curses against
charioteers, for example, 
would usually
be buried either in the stadium itself, or in a cemetery nearby; at Carthage,
for example, defixiones have been found buried at the foot of the podium wall,
and in a cemetery of officials situated immediately north of the amphitheatre.
These locations would have been ‘perfect’, due to their proximity to the
cemetery, and to the amphitheatre where violent and untimely deaths were
plentiful – ghosts would have been omnipresent (Heintz, 1998). It was these - nekudaimones
- who were to be ‘harnessed’ by the authors of the curse tablets; the
‘preferred candidates were those who had died ‘untimely’, violent’ or
‘premature’ deaths, as they were considered to be unable to ‘reach the
underworld completely’ (Heintz, quoted in Tassel, 2000; p50), and their spirits
were believed to ‘roam about in a restless and vengeful mood near
their body’. Some tablets even promise these dead souls ‘respite from their unhappy fate once they
carried out their appointed task’. Despite this, the role which these nekudaimones
actually played in the curse process is unclear; they could have been the messengers
who brought the curses to the gods, or it could have been they who carried out
the curses, under the ‘watchful eye’ of the gods (Cooper et al, 1992;
p12, 19, 20).
It is notable that through a study of dreams,
the Oracles, and his own personal observations, Plato had come to believe that
the gods spoke with their own special language. This dialektos, while
unintelligible to most mortal ears, could be understood by those believed to be
possessed by daimones, and other beings thought to be caught between
‘our world’ and ‘theirs’, such as the dead souls (Cooper et al, 1992;
p10). The nekudaimones would therefore make perfect
intermediaries.
Another reason for
depositing such a tablet among the dead, would be to take advantage of the
miasma which were believed to generate. Contact between the dead and the tablet
would engender pollution of the intended victims by analogical or sympathetic
magic – this miasma would ‘unlock’ the curse. Indeed it has been suggested that
one of the reasons the Selinous lex sacra covers the subjects which it
does was a response to the manipulation of the miasma. The nineteen curse
tablets which have been found there thus far may have been one of the prompts
for this text; it was ‘to deal with comparable miasma arising from deaths and
perhaps from ineffective funerary rites for those dead, and to provide ritual
cleansing from the pollution of hostile spirits similar to those instigated by
curse tablets’ (Jameson, Jordan & Kotanksy, 1993; p128-9).
That
the defixiones were typically hidden by earth or water has another beneficial reason behind it;
the majority of tablets would be buried in secret, as their power was dependent
on their not being discovered or removed (Petrovitch, 2000). However, for certain types of defixio,
such as that which cursed a thief, having the victim know he had been ‘fixed’
would prove a confession-incentive (Cooper et al, 1992; p176-7). Indeed, some thieves, having
learnt that they were the target of such a defixio, would often be frightened
enough to purchase the tablet in order to secure release from the curse (Fagan,
1999).
The
actual depositing of the curse tablets is one which could have been carried out
by either their author, or a professional; it has been suggested that, as some
scribes or magoi were hired to create the tablets, their services would
extend to burial. Obviously, dropping a piece of metal (or similar) into a well
could be carried out by those who were not trained professionals –
burial at other locations, however, was far riskier. It is wholly conceivable
that the scribes would ‘extend their services’ to cover illicitly burying a
tablet in a race-ground, or defiling a grave in order to ‘place the tablet in
the corpse’s right hand’ (Cooper et al, 1992; p20). Keeping the burial a secret,
therefore, would protect the curse from being broken and the author from
suspicion; neither the law nor the victim could make trouble for him if they
did not know of the tablet.
WHO
DID THEY INVOKE?
Unlike the curses uttered within the plays
of the time, the defixiones invoked chthonic deities, such as Hades,
Persephone, and Hermes Cthonios, most probably because these powers were seen
to be suitably ‘dark and uncanny’, and also because the Earth was associated
with justice (Pulleyn, 1997; p90). In some instances, the place of deposit
dictated which deity the tablets should be dedicated to - the tablets from
Bath, which number over 130, were all dedicated to the goddess of the Spring,
known variously as Sulis and Minerva (Cooper et al, 1992; p13). For
others whose choice of god was a little less restricted, connections to the
Earth and the Underworld were paramount, and those possessed of dark powers
were also popular, as can be seen in the order of preference for those gods to
whom the spells were addressed. Top of the list for the Greek tablets is
Hermes, followed by Hekate, Persephone, Hades, Gaia and then Demeter. Others
addressed their curses to Zeus, Kronos, the Furies, or the all inclusive “all
the gods and goddesses”. The Latin tablets reveal a different set of deities,
the most common of which were the spirits of dead ancestors (manes),
Jupiter, Pluto, Nemesis, Mercury, and a selection of water nymphs (Cooper et
al, 1992; p12-3). Of these, the manes, water nymphs and Hades seem to
be the most ‘logical’ choices, given their proximity to the places where the
curse tablets would be left.
‘In
general, two factors seem to have governed the selection of gods and spirits
and their names: first: local customs and beliefs: and second, the recipes
available through the formularies owned and used by local experts.’ (Cooper et al, 1992; p13)
As stated above, choice of deities reflected
local beliefs and fashions. Even in those instances where the gods named are
not those of the author’s own religion, this is still indicative of little more
than these local beliefs and fashions. The ‘highly syncretized’ spells
excavated from Egypt and North Africa, dated between the third and sixth
centuries AD, contain a mixture of invocations to foreign gods such as Iao, daimones
‘with secret names’, and Egyptian deities such as Seth, Osiris and Thoth –
Thoth, interestingly, is usually identified as the Egyptian counterpart to
Hermes [see Appendix, example
1]. Interestingly, later tablets have also incorporated Jewish and Christian
elements (Cooper et al, 1992; p13). The osmosis of influences worked
both ways in the Mediterranean; Egyptian influence on the inscriptions of the defixiones
can be most clearly seen in the later examples of the Roman period, as the gods
who are invoked in these tablets are international, and their co-operation is
sought via threats, rather than polite requests (Cooper et al, 1992; p6-7). The range of these deities
seen in the later tablets is not so much indicative of polytheism – those who
invoked the gods of another culture were not necessarily willing to absorb them
into their lives – but a willingness to experiment, and embrace the foreign if
such a practice was seen as beneficial.
WHAT
DID THEY SAY?
As a general rule of
thumb, the older the tablets are, the simpler their inscriptions; the majority
of the fourth and fifth century BC examples from Attica and Sicily make no mention
of a deity or spirit, or any form of binding, giving only the name of the
intended victim (Cooper et al, 1992; p5).
By the first century AD, the practice of
inscribing formulaic instructions on the tablet had replaced the previous
custom of listing little more than the intended victims’ names. Farone has
identified four key groups of the formulae found on the later curse tablets: ‘a
direct binding formula’, ‘a prayer formula’, ‘a wish formula’, and ‘a similia
similibus formula’, which asked that the victim should develop the
attributes of a certain object (e.g. ‘cold and lifeless’ lead) (Pulleyn, 1997;
p83). Such formulas make few appearances on the Greek tablets of the classical
and Hellenistic periods – from the first century AD onwards, however, the
language used was ‘richly variegated’, and the invocations to the gods and
spirits had become far longer and more complex. Drawings of the intended
victims, as well as the ‘probably astrological’ charaktêres ‘became
omnipresent’ (Cooper et al, 1992; p5). While they later became far more
brutal, in the classical period curse tablets were ‘designed to incapacitate
the victim rather than kill him’ (Pulleyn, 1997; p82-3).
Interestingly, scholars studying this
evolution of style have postulated that there was an earlier ‘more primitive’
stage in the curse tablets’ history, whereby the tablets themselves were left
blank, and simply made the subject of a rite or ceremony where the victims
would be named. This hypothesis has been supported by the discovery of a cache
of approximately forty blank tablets in a provincial outpost in Aquitania, and
also by the precedents set by amulets; magical words and objects were typically
separated, and the practice of inscribing an amulet was a ‘comparatively late 
development’ in classical antiquity
(Pulleyn, 1997; p83-4). It is thought that the popularity of inscription
corresponded with the ‘growth of written language in Greek culture’, and that
the ‘prayers, invocations and incantations’, which would have traditionally
been an oral accompaniment to the depositing of the tablets, gradually took
their place on the tablets themselves (Cooper et al, 1992; p7). Pulleyn
(1997; p84) has also suggested that ‘the progression to writing might have been
motivated by the belief that this somehow made the process more definite and
therefore more emphatic, more likely to be effective’; by making the wishes of
the author tangible, they gain in power.
While later curse tablets from elsewhere in
the Mediterranean ‘present the fiction that someone is to read the texts and to
act on their instructions’, the early fifth century BC curse tablets found at
Selinous, in Western Sicily, bear no suggestion of a reader. With all of the
nineteen tablets thus far found, it is as though ‘the very act of inscribing or
the place of deposit were enough in itself to affect the persons named’.
(Jameson, Jordan & Kotanksy, 1993; p127-8). This form of sympathetic magic
– by which the words themselves are imbued with a power of their own – is
‘aided’ by the practice of inscribing the texts in certain special ways. Some
of the defixiones found are written backwards, a practice believed to
make the curse even more binding (Fagan, 1999). (The pictured Phrygian tablet features
letters written backwards for added power. As though that’ll help you
understand what it says…) The tablets found in the sanctuary at Selinous
feature names written backwards or with the letters facing right, and two are
written ‘in a spiral, as if the words are twisted’. It has been postulated that
this analogous magic was believed to be ‘activated’ by the tablets’ proximity
to the dead (Jameson, Jordan & Kotanksy, 1993; p128-9). Such a technique is
a further indication of the tablets’ physical features affecting the curse
itself – as the lead was hoped to make the victim cold and heavy, so writing
their name backwards would mystically change or ‘scramble’ them (Cooper et
al, 1992; p5). [See Appendix,
example 3]
WHO
WROTE THEM?
On many tablets, particularly the earlier
ones which include little more than the names of the intended victim and a plea
to a deity, it is almost impossible to accurately ascertain the reasons for
their creation. Equally confusing can be their sometimes choosing to identify
persons by their occupation but giving no further details; in these instances,
the curse tablet could be directed towards a business rival, or simply an
individual who happens to work as a seamstress or stall-keeper. It is wholly
possible that mentioning the victim’s profession was intended as additional
information to aid their accurate identification (Cooper et al, 1992;
p152).
From
the second century AD, it had become customary to identify victims of the
curses by matrilineal descent. This practice, which is also common in Jewish
spells, can be explained in several different ways. One suggestion is that it
was born of the need for precise identification of the victim; following the
principle of pater semper incertus, only the mother can be named with
certainty. Alternatively, the practice could have been influenced by the method
of identifying slaves by matrilineal descent. A further suggestion is that the
habit was influenced by Egyptian rites – in early spells from both Egypt and
Babylonia, matrimonial lineage appears, and both Egyptian, Christian and Jewish
monuments had been known to identify the deceased by the matrilineal line (Cooper et al, 1992; p14). It has
also been postulated that using the mother's name to identify their child
is a simple reversion of common practice, intended to increase the potency of
the curse just as writing backwards did (Petrovitch, 2000). Cooper et al (1992; p14) feel
that, while the Egyptian explanation is the most likely, the practice could
have arisen from a combination of these hypotheses, as the people of the
ancient Mediterranean were known for their adoption of others’ rites and
beliefs.
As most curse tablet
authors preferred not to name themselves – presumably for fear of making themselves
the accidental victim of the curse – the sex of the inscriber can be quite hard
to determine, and there have been few defixiones found which can be
positively ascribed to a female author (Pulleyn, 1997; p171). The context in
which they were written can help in this matter – defixiones pertaining
to rivalries in the exclusively male field of charioteering, for example, would
have been written by men. [See Appendix,
example 7] It is also known that the legal defixiones were employed by
all classes and both genders; not only did women commission them, but several
Greek and Sicilian tablets ‘mention women as potential witnesses’, which
‘contradicts the traditional view that women had no legal standing in Greek
courts’ (Cooper et al, 1992; p119-20).
WHO
ELSE WROTE THEM?
Although it might not seem a simple task,
writing on a metal tablet was not difficult, particularly when one had a bronze
stylus, the preferred instrument of inscription
(Cooper
et al, 1992; p4). Provided you were in possession of such a stylus, it
was easy to make an impression on lead – it is not for the difficulty of the
task of writing that the individuals would have commissioned outside ‘help’.
For it is believed that the curse tablets were inscribed by two different sets
of people; individuals seeking private fulfilment of their wishes, and
professionals. Traditionally, the practice of preparing spells has been one
‘entrusted to specialists’, but the range of quality in both the grammatical
and stylistic fluency seen on the tablets would suggest that two different
parties were at work in the defixiones’ creation. For example, the
‘skilful, elegant, fluent semicursive texts’, dated to the third century AD,
which have been found in wells in the Athenian Agora, indicate the work of a
professional (Cooper et al, 1992; p4-5). In the second book of Plato’s
‘Republic’, curse tablets which could be bought directly from ‘wandering
professionals’, are mentioned as a ‘common feature of Athenian life’ in the fourth
century BC. These salesmen specifically targeted the wealthy, a revelation
which puts paid to the idea that the defixiones were only employed by
the ‘ignorant and superstitious’ lower classes (Cooper et al, 1992;
p249). Despite this evidence, such professionals were believed to have played a
more important role in the Roman period from the first to the sixth centuries
AD, than in the classical or Hellenistic times (Cooper et al, 1992; p4).
WHAT
CAN WE GLEAN FROM THE WAY THEY WERE WRITTEN?
By no means all of the defixiones
found are attributed to the hand of a professional however; De La Bédoyère
(1989; p158) has noted that in many instances ‘the grammar and quality of
writing of these curses leave much to be desired’. Usually, these tablets are
taken as evidence of their author’s poor education, although it can be
suggested that for those writing from a standard text available at the temple
or shrine, the very act of laboriously copying out the key phrases could induce
mistakes and messiness. For some scholars, it is the grammar and quality of
writing which proves the most fascinating element to scholars; the hand-writing
can be employed as dating evidence, while the language used is ‘a major source
of the Latin current in the civil province of Britain’ (Tomlin, 1996), because
it is Latin as it was spoken (Fagan, 1999).
The wording of the defixiones can
also reveal far more about their authors than simply whether they were copying
the text from another standard tablet. Curse tablets which politely appeal to
the gods for justice – rather than pre-emptively demanding an ugly fate for
their enemies – are very well represented in the epigraphic record for Asia
Minor. Vernsel has suggested that this could be the affect of social structures
on theology – because the Asiatic Greeks, unlike the Peninsular Greeks, spoke
to their kings in a reverent and submissive manner, and were accustomed to persuading
them to instigate justice, their gods were treated in the same way. J.H.M.
Strubbe also feels that such polite requests are due to the cultural practices
of the Asiatics – such peoples held graves in great respect, believing them to
be houses for the dead, and would severely punish grave-robbers. Such a policy
of Do Not Disturb would mean that curse tablets would be politely worded, and
would only trouble the dead for matters of the utmost import (Pulleyn, 1997;
p88-9).
DID
THEY HAVE A GOOD REPUTATION?
That neither Homer nor
any other dramatist refers to the defixiones is taken as an indicator of
their low status – curse tablets did not have a noble reputation (Pulleyn,
1997; p89). Yet their usage cannot be taken as ‘an index of the breakdown of
classical rationality’; they were used for at least a thousand years, from the
fifth century BC onwards, without any such detrimental effect becoming
apparent. An equally pertinent point in their favour is that their usage was
not restricted to the ‘superstitious’ lower orders; the presence of
professional scribes indicate a wealthy market, as do some of the victims
named. Some of the fourth century Attic defixiones, for example, mention
famous orators and politicians, including Demosthenes and Lycurgus (Price,
1999; p102).
The majority of the defixiones
can appear to be born of little more than selfishness and greed; rival
sportsmen and shop-owners are cursed to fail, the opposing sides in a
court-case are cursed to forgetfulness and speech-impairment so as they will
lose, and marriages are cursed to end in divorce so as the husband or wife will
be free to love another. Yet not all tablets had such base motives. Vernsel has
referred to those defixiones which call for justice and revenge as
‘letters to the gods’, and believes they should be kept in a category distinct
from the other curse tablets (Cooper et al, 1992; p175). Certainly, they
do have differing characteristics, most obviously the author’s belief that
right is on their side; an individual seeking restitution for his being wronged
has higher moral ground to stand on than the jealous man seeking to curse a
rival and profit from his misfortune. There is also that the deities invoked
are directly involved in the plea, by the (often temporary) ritual transfer of
the stolen goods – and sometimes the thief – to the ownership of the god, the
theft effectively becomes their problem. Now it is both the gods and the human
owner who have been ‘deprived, offended and dishonoured’ (Cooper et al,
1992; p175-6).
Some scholars consider
it odd that the majority of the defixiones contained no offer of payment
for services or justification for their requests – such characteristics set the
curse tablets apart from other aspects of religious life in classical
antiquity, and the ‘publicly accepted norms of polis religion’. Unlike
civic curses, which do not need to be accompanied with gifts for the gods – as
the overseeing of justice is not an activity which requires coercion – curse
tablets are concerned only with personal justice, itself often little more than
a ‘selfish whim’. Indeed, it has been postulated that it is this selfishness
which prevents the accompaniment of an offering with the curse tablet (Pulleyn,
1997; p94).
DID
THE CURSE TABLETS WORK?
Perhaps the most pertinent question to be
asked about the curse tablets is ‘did they work’? Unfortunately, the answer is
not quite as simple. What is clear, however, is that the defixiones were
believed to work by sufficient numbers of people as to make their powers a
fact. Indeed, the preventative measures taken against them can be seen as proof
of this power. That the curse tablets worked, or were seen to work, is the
reason postulated by Cooper et al (1992; p23-4) for their being made
illegal under Roman laws – in 389 AD, ‘a highpoint in the construction of Roman
circuses’, an imperial decree was issued demanding public exposure of magic
users, and forbidding charioteers from contravening this edict (Cooper et al,
1992; p45, 48). The defixiones
were seen as dangerous, in both physical and political terms. Not only could
they could exact bodily harm, but they also ‘stood outside’ society, and in
opposition to the jurisdiction of the legal world. That the defixiones
were believed to work would also account, at least in part, for the presence of
so many protective charms and counter-spells in the ancient world. It is known
that sportsmen used ‘defensive phylacteries and spells’ to counter the defixiones
set against them, as did certain craftsmen and shop-owners. While most amulets
were intended to ward off all evils, at least one has been found which was
designed specifically to protect the wearer from defixiones (Cooper et
al, 1992; p47, 154, 219).
Because of this power which they were
believed to have, some of the defixiones were deliberately made public
affairs. While secrecy was paramount with the more underhand curses, such as
those made against rival charioteers, the ‘fix’ of these defixiones
would be more effective if they were publicly known, as fear would prompt a
confession. This practice is confirmed by second and third century AD ‘confessional
inscriptions’ from Lydia and Phrygia in Asia Minor; there, those individuals
who believed they were the unfortunate targets of the defixiones would
erect a tablet of their own, either proclaiming their innocence or admitting
their guilt, and thereby hoping to escape the illness and misfortune they were
plagued with (Cooper et al, 1992; p176-7). Clearly, the psychological
power of these tablets was immense.
WHAT
WAS THEIR PSYCHOLOGICAL FUNCTION?
Roger Tomlin, in his
discussion on whether the Bath tablets ‘worked’, notes that the very fact that
the practice continued in Roman Britain for two centuries ‘implies that they
did work… or were believed to’. He explains their continued popularity with a
note that, at the very least, this practice ‘removed intolerable tensions’,
‘allowed a transfer of emotion’, and ‘relieved the injured party’s feelings’
(Cooper et al, 1992; p23). Pulleyn (1997; p86) has also suggested that
curse tablets serve a psychological purpose for their author, as they allow
frustration to be vented, and comfort to be gained from the thought that
positive action had been taken. Through the commissioning and depositing of
such a tablet in preparation for trial, for example, the pre-trial emotions of
fear, guilt, uncertainty and even shame could be assuaged – the curse tablets
were a boon to the nerves of the litigants (Cooper et al, 1992; p116-7).
The defixiones are a good way for persons with no power to gain it;
those who have no control over their lives ask their deities to provide it.
[See Appendix, example 4]
For not only do the defixiones allow individuals to wreak damage on
their enemies in a relatively easy way, the use of curse tablets also avoids
physical violence between parties. They serve to bring the matter out of your
hands, lest they be dirtied, into the hands of the gods, and in so doing, act
as a distancing tool, allowing the author to escape culpability.
Psychology can also
explain the use of aggressive language in the defixiones as being
suggestive of far more than just their authors’ passionate feelings. Cooper et
al (1992; p81-2) believe the use of such words acts as a cathartic release,
and that it gives the author an additional sense of power. In articulating his
emotions in this way, while seeking to control another, the author of such a defixio
is able to gain some psychological succour – the very act of commissioning and
depositing a tablet can satisfy, even if its magic does not work as believed.
This would explain why the curses often seem extreme, and somewhat out of
proportion to the crime; one example from the Sacred Spring at Bath asks that
whoever has stolen Basilia’s silver ring, or knows who did, ‘may be cursed in
[his] blood and eyes [and] every limb, or even have all [his] intestines eaten
away’ (De La Bédoyère, 1989; p158). Yet such a request reflects the passionate
depth of Basilia’s feelings; to be able to give these feelings such an outlet
is quite positive. That the defixiones functioned as such a ‘safety
valve’ enabled the otherwise impotent to gain power and a release from their
feelings; because of this, they were of vital use in the ancient world.
WHAT
ELSE CAN THEY TELL US?
Because of the intimate
nature of the tales which they reveal, the defixiones make for a highly
engaging source material. They can fill in the gaps left by archaeological and
literary sources. These tablets allow for a very human picture of life
in the ancient world, and can make people long since buried come alive in the
imagination, in a far more vivid way than simply uncovering a piece of
jewellery or pottery.
One particularly good
example of this is the case of Silvanius, and his missing gold ring [see Appendix, tablet example 6].
Just from the three-sentence defixio which he deposited at Nodens’
temple at Lydney in Gloucerstershire, asking for the god to curse the suspected
Senicianus until he regained his property (De La Bédoyère, 1989; p158), we can
deduce that the two men, who were probably visiting Lydney for health reasons,
had been staying in the guesthouse from which the one stole the other’s ring.
From the later addition of the word ‘redivivia’ renewing the curse, it is clear
that Silvianus did not immediately recover his ring. However, much to the
delight of some scholars, the story does not stop there. At Silchester, a
polygonal gold ring ‘bearing an intaglio named Venus’ has been found, inscribed
on the interior with the legend ‘May thou live in God, Senicianus. It has been
suggested that this was the missing ring, and Wacher (1978; p241) has
tentatively postulated that Senicianus had converted to Christianity after his
healing-pilgrimage to Lydney failed to yield the results he wanted, little
knowing he was cursed.
‘Such evidence, when it occurs, illuminates the
personalities of Roman Britain with a sudden bright light, revealing their
hopes and fears, ambitions and failures, which were not so very different from
people today.’
(Wacher 1978; p241)
As Wacher has noted, curse tablets allow for a vivid picture to be painted of life,
particularly if the puzzle has more than one piece to it, as in this instance
it appears to.
AND
IN CONCLUSION?
The defixiones offer us rather sober mirror to look into; one has
only to sit in a traffic jam to know how popular curses remain in the modern
world. While we now have the police and an ‘advanced’ judicial system, which
theoretically removes the need for revenge, people still have not yet managed
the art of living peaceably together.
But instead of venting our frustrations with curse tablets, we now have
therapists. Their confidential files could not be more revealing than the defixiones
however.
The curse tablets function like postcards from the ancient world. They
are able to teach us about the ‘behind the scenes’ secrets of peoples’ lives,
and institutions such as the law-courts and circuses. We can learn intimate
details of their jealousies, fears and desires, and above all, their religious
beliefs. Just from studying the objects themselves, we can discover facts about
local industry, and the education and status of their author. Peter Brown has
noted that the defixiones act as though X-rays to reveal ‘pockets of
uncertainty and competition’ within the society (Cooper et al, 1992;
p122), but they ‘betray’ so much more. From the defixiones thus far
uncovered, we know what was most important to their authors, a secret few other
archaeological artefacts can reveal.
Curse
Examples:
1:
Business
The following example is an excerpt from a curse tablet found in a
well in ancient Antioch’s House of the Calendar, dated to the third century
A.D. Although it had been inscribed in Greek script, it refers to Biblical
episodes (e.g. Moses’ plagues), and Iao (Yahweh), part of a pagan pantheon of
gods and demons.
O thundering and lightning-wielding Iao,
cast down, bind, bind together Babylas, the greengrocer whom Himera (also called
Hesychia and Dionysia) bore in her womb, he who lives in the neighborhood of
the Mygdonians. Just as you cast down the chariot of Pharaoh, so cast down his
... soul ... O thundering and lightning-wielding Iao, just as you choked the
first-born of Egypt, so choke up [his animals] ... Now too, bind, bind down,
bind together his animals and his donkey, let them overturn, let them fall
apart, let them not be able to move, from this hour and day forth, now, now,
quickly, quickly.
(Heintz, 2000)
2: Business
The following example is from Attica, and
dated to 4th century BC. As well as being an interesting insight
into business rivalries, this tablet also contains a good example of lead
symbolism.
(Side A) Let Pherenicus be bound
before Hermes Cthonios and Hecate Cthonia. And I bind before Hermes Cthonios
and Hecate Cthonia Galene [the name of a prostitute] who associated with
Pherenicus. And just as the lead is held in no esteem and is cold, so may
Pherenicus and his things be held in no esteem and be cold, and so for the
things which Pherenicus’ collaborators say and plot concerning me.
(Side B) Let Thersilochus,
Oenophilos, Philotios and any other legal advocate of Pherenicus be bound before
Hermes Cthonios and Hecate Cthonia. And I bind the soul and mind and tongue and
plans of Pherenicus, whatever he does and plots concerning me, let all things
be contrary for him and for those who plot and act with him.
(Price, 1999; p101-2)
3:
Judicial
The following example is from a curse
tablet found at the sanctuary of the goddess Malophoros (‘a local equivalent of
Demeter’) at Selinus in Sicily, and is dated to the early fifth century BC,
which makes it one of the earliest known defixiones. As is true of
almost all such early tablets, the text does not refer to a deity (although an
oral invocation was probably made at the time of deposit). It is unusual in
that it is a round shape. On one side of the tablet the writing ‘appears in
rough lines, with some letters at various angles on the right and left’, while
on the other ‘the writing proceeds in concentric circles’; no doubt this was
intended to increase the ‘magic’. The binding of the tongue mentioned would be
very useful in court, as it would leave those cited unable to speak.
(Side A) I inscribe Selinontios
and the tongue of Selinontios, twisted to the point of uselessness for them.
And I inscribe, towsted to the point of uselessness, the tongues of the foreign
witnesses.
(Side B) I inscribe Timasoi and
the tongue of Timasoi, twisted to the point of uselessness. I inscribe Turrana
and the tongue of Turrana, towsted to the point of uselessness for all of them.
(Cooper et al, 1992; p141-2)
4: Love
The following example is from a curse tablet found at
Minturna. It was written in Latin but contains many misspellings, which has led
to the probable conclusion that it is the work of someone in the lower class.
The glee which it takes in thought of Ticene’s misfortune, and the thorough way
in which every single part of her body is listed as a potential site for pain
(even her shadow) demonstrates the depth of feeling experienced by the author.
Spirits
of the underworld, I consecrate and hand over to you, if you have any power,
Ticene of Carisius. Whatever she does, may it all turn out wrong. Spirits of
the netherworld, I consecrate to you her limbs, her complexion, her figure, her
head, her hair, her shadow, her brain, her forehead, her eyebrows, her mouth,
her nose, her chin, her cheeks, her lips, her speech, her breath, her neck, her
liver, her shoulders, her heart, her lungs, her intestines, her stomach, her
arms, her fingers, her hands, her navel, her entrails, her thighs, her knees,
her calves, her heels, her soles, her toes. Spirits of the netherworld, if I
see her wasting away, I swear that I will be delighted to offer a sacrifice to
you every year.
(Shelton, 1997)
5:
Love – Homosexual
The following example is from a Nemean curse tablet, dated to the late
fourth century B.C. This separation spell, written by a jealous or spurned
lover, was found with five others by the same individual, and is deemed
interesting by scholars because it refers to homosexual relations, and also
because it makes no mention of a spirit or deity in its plea.
I turn away Eubolês
from Aineas, from his
face, from his eyes,
from his mouth,
from his breasts,
from his soul,
from his belly, from
his penis, from
his anus, from his entire body. I
turn away Euboles from
Aineas.
(Cooper et al, 1992; p92)
6: Revenge
The
following example is from a curse tablet found in the temple
precinct of Nodens, at Lydney Park in Uley, Gloucestershire, in a room attached
to the temple which was used by the priests for storing such items. This temple
was frequently visited by those seeking
cures for diseases or physical ailments; Nodens, who is promised half of
the missing ring’s value as an incentive to search it out, would certainly be
capable of ‘withholding’ the health of the thief as requested. Interestingly,
the word ‘redivivia’ was later added to the tablet to renew it – Silvanius had
obviously not yet found his ring (De La Bédoyère, 1989; p158).
To the God Nodens, Silvanius has lost a
ring. He has given half of it [its value] to Nodens. Among those whose name is
Senicianus, do not permit health until he brings it to the temple of Nodens.
(Cooper et al, 1992; p197)
7: Sport – Chariot Racing
The following is an excerpt from a
seventy-five line curse tablet found in Carthage. Its author appears to be
erring on the side of caution, and cursing every single horse of the Red and
Blue teams, along with their drivers – yet despite this attentiveness to detail,
he does not know the name of the dead soul to whom the job is entrusted.
I invoke you, spirit of one untimely
dead, whoever you are, by the mighty
names SALBATHBAL AUTHGERÔTABAL
BASULTHATEÔ ALEÔ SAMABÊTHÔR
Bind the horses whose names and
images [or likeness] on this implement I
entrust to you; of
the Red [team]: Silvanus, Servator, Lues,
Zephryus, Blandus,
Imbraius, Dives, Mariscus, Rapidus,
Oriens, Arbustus; of the
Blues: Imminens, Dignus, Linon, Paezon,
Chrysaspis, Argutus,
Diresor, Frugiferous, Euphrates, Sanctus,
Aethiops,
Praeclarus. Bind their running, their
power, their
soul, their onrush, their speed. Take
away their victory,
entangle their feet, hinder them, hobble
them, so that
tomorrow morning in the hippodrome they
are not able to run
or walk about, or win, or go out of the
starting gates,
or advance either on the racecourse or
track…
(Cooper et al, 1992; p60)
Bibliography
Beard, Mary; North, John; Price, Simon.
1998. ‘Religions of Rome: Vol. 1: A History.’
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
Cooper,
Catherine F.; Frankfurter, David; Krueger, Derek; Lim, Richard. 1992. John G.
Gager (Ed.)’s ‘Curse Tablets and Binding Spells from the Ancient
World.’ New York:
Oxford University Press
De La Bédoyère, Guy. 1989. ‘The Finds
Of Roman Britain.’ Bath: Bath Press
Jameson, Michael H.; Jordan, David R.;
Kotanksy, Roy D. 1993. ‘A Lex Sacra From
Selinous.’
Durham, North Carolina: Duke University