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THE FLORIDA STATE UNIVERSITY
COLLEGE OF ARTS AND SCIENCES
SHAPE OF THE BEAST: THE THERIOMORPHIC AND THERIANTHROPIC DEITIES
AND DEMONS OF ANCIENT ITALY
By
WAYNE L. RUPP, JR.
A Dissertation submitted to the
Department of Classics
In partial fulfillment of the
Requirements for the degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
Degree Awarded:
Spring Semester, 2007
Copyright © 2007
Wayne L. Rupp, Jr.
All Rights Reserved

The members of this Committee approve the dissertation of Wayne L. Rupp, Jr. defended on
November 22, 2006.
Approved:
_____________________________________
Daniel J. Pullen, Chair, Department of Classics
_____________________________________
Joseph Travis, Dean, College of Arts and Sciences
ii
_______________________________
Nancy de Grummond
Professor Directing Dissertation
_______________________________
Michael Uzendoski
Outside Committee Member
_______________________________
Christopher Pfaff
Committee Member
_______________________________
Daniel J. Pullen
Committee Member
The office of Graduate Studies has verified and approved the above named committee members.

This work is dedicated to my loving wife, Jennifer, and my dear sons, Collin and Andrew.
iii

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I would like to thank Dr. Nancy de Grummond for her guidance and support during the
writing of this dissertation. She was a constant driving force behind the completion of this
undertaking, and I am eternally grateful for her valuable insight.
iv

TABLE OF CONTENTS
List of Figures vi
Abstract xiii
Chapter 1: Introduction 1
Chapter 2: The Serpent 28
Chapter 3: The Wolf and Canines 48
Chapter 4: The Goat 76
Chapter 5: The Bull 94
Chapter 6: Avians 111
Chapter 7: Conclusions 126
Ancient Works Cited 132
References 200
Biographical Sketch 224
v

LIST OF FIGURES
Fig. I.1. Prehistoric Carved Ivory Figurine of a Man with a Lion’s Head from Hohlenstein-
Stadel, Germany, 30,000 BCE, Ulm, Museum Der Stadt. Dim. H. 28.0 cm. Bibl. Conard 2003,
830; Putnam 1988, 467; Sinclair 2003, 774-5. 132
Fig. I.2. Roman Fresco Depicting a Priest of Isis, from the House of Loreius Tiburtinus,
Pompeii, ca. 1 st C CE. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. De Vos 1990, 77. 133
Fig. II.1. Early Corinthian Alabastron Decorated with the Figure of Typhon, Unknown
Provenance, ca. 610-600 BCE, Hew Haven, Yale University Art Gallery. Dim. H. 25.9 cm, W.
11.9 cm, D. 11.9 cm. Bibl. Matheson 2004, 349-52; Touchefeu-Meynier 1997, 147-51. 134
Fig. II.2. Sculpture of the so-called Bluebeard Anguiped from the “Hekatompedon” on the
Athenian Acropolis, ca. 560 BCE, Acropolis Museum. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Hurwitt 2001,
108-9. 135
Fig. II.3. Hellenistic Relief of Zeus Battling the Giants, from the Eastern Frieze of the Great
Altar of Pergamon, begun ca. 180 BCE, Berlin, Pergamon Museum. Dim. H. 230.0 cm. Bibl.
Hansen 1971, 264-7, 319-38; Howard 1964, 129-36; Kahler 1945; Pollitt 1986, 96-110; Schmidt
1962; Simon 1975; Stewart 2000, 32-57. 136
Fig. II.4. Etruscan Black Figure Hydria with Scene of Two Youths Attacking a Giant, Vulci, ca.
525-500 BCE, British Museum, London. Dim. H. 44.0 cm. Bibl. De Grummond 2000, 259;
Spivey 1987, Fig. 14b; Vian 1952, 16. 137
Fig. II.5. Detail of an Etruscan Fresco of a Giant from The Tomb of the Typhon, in the
Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, 3 rd quarter of the 3 rd C BCE. 1 Dim. Unspecified. Bibl.
Cristofani 1969, 213-56; De Grummond 2000, 258-61; Pallottino 1952, 125-8; Steingraber 1985,
347; Steingraber 2000; 240-3. 138
Fig. II.6. Detail of an Etruscan Fresco of Charu(n) from the Entrance Wall of the Tomb of the
Anina Family, in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, 3 rd to 2 nd C BCE. Dim. Unspecified.
Bibl. Krauskopf and Mavleev 1986, 230, 286; Pallottino 1964, 108-23; Ridgway 2000, 303,
307-9, Steingraber 1985, 282. 139
Fig. II.7. Etruscan Fresco of Two Charu(n)s Flanking a False Door on the Right Wall of the
Tomb of the Charu(n)s in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, end of the 3 rd C BCE. Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Krauskopf and Mavleev 1986, 230; Moretti 1966, 300-5; Steingraber 1985,
300. 140
1 See Colonna 1984, 23 and Ridgway 1998, 406 for a 3 rd C BCE date of the Tomb of the Typhon.
vi

Fig. II.8. Rear Wall of the Tomb of the Reliefs with Anguiped and Kerberos, Banditaccia
Necropolis, Cerveteri, 3 rd quarter of the 4 th C BCE. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Blanck 1986, 18-
9; De Ruyt 1934, 134-5; Giglioli 1935, Pl. 341-3; Haynes 2000, 318; Krauskopf and Mavleev
1986, 234; Proietti 1986, 236-66; Steingraber 1985, 262-4. 141
Fig. II.9. Roman Black Marble Statue of Aesculapius, Antium, ca. 150 CE, Capitoline Museum,
Rome. Dim. H. 145 cm. Bibl. Holtzmann 1984, 878; Kerényi 1959, Ill. 7; Turcan 1988, 33.
142
Fig. II.10. Roman Marble Statue of Aesculapius along with Salus Feeding the Sacred Serpent,
Found in the Forum of Praeneste, Hellenistic Period, Museo Vaticano, Rome. Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Helbig I 1985, 138-9; Schouten 1967, Ill. 7; Vatican Museum of Sculpture
1923, 55. 143
Fig. II.11. Roman Bronze Medallion from the Reign of Antoninus Pius Depicting the Entry of
Aesculapius into Rome, Unknown Provenance, ca. 138-61 CE, Cabinet des Medaillés, Paris.
Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Gnecchi 1968, 9, 1-3; Kerényi 1959, Ill. 8; Mambella 1997, 26; Turcan
1988, 33. 144
Fig. II.12. Detail of a Roman Marble Statue (possibly a copy of a 4 th C BCE Greek original)
Depicting Aesculapius as a Prophetic Deity, ca 130 CE, Pitti Palace, Florence. Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Kerényi 1959, 67. 145
Fig. II.13. Lararium from the House of the Vettii (VI.15.1) with Fresco Depicting the Genius,
Lares, and Genius Loci, Pompeii, ca. 1 st C CE. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Boyce 1937, 54;
Strocka 1990, 571; Orr 1978, 1577; Tinh 1992, 209; Turan 1988, 44. 146
Fig. II.14. Drawing of a Roman Fresco Depicting the God Harpocrates and the Genius Loci of
Mt. Vesuvius, from Herculaneum, 1 st C CE, Museo Nazionale, Naples. Dim. H. 40.0 cm. L
50.0 cm. Bibl. Boyce 1942, 18-20; Tinh 1971, 82; Tinh, Jaeger, and Poulin 1981, 426. 147
Fig. III.1. Water Color Copy of an Etruscan Fresco Depicting Aita, Phersipnai, and Cerun in the
Tomb of Orcus II, in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, 2 nd half of 4 th C BCE. Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Defosse 1972, 492; Del Chiaro 1970, 292-4; Elliott 1995, 21-2; Hostetter
1978, 263-4; Krauskopf 1987, 61-7; Krauskopf 1988, 395; Richardson 1977, 95-6; Simon 1997,
450-4; Steingraber 1985, 329-332; Torelli 1983, 7-17. 148
Fig. III.2. Reconstruction of an Etruscan Fresco Depicting Aita and Phersipnai at a Funerary
Banquet in the Golini Tomb I, from Settecamini, 3 rd quarter of the 4 th C BCE, Orvieto, Museo
Archeologico Nazionale di Orvieto. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Defosse 1972, 492; Del Chiaro
1970, 292-4; Elliott 1995, 21-2; Hostetter 1978, 263-4; Krauskopf 1987, 61-7; Krauskopf 1988,
395; Pallottino 1982, 131; Richardson 1977, 95-6; Simon 1997, 450-4; Steingraber 1985, 278.
149
vii

Fig. III.3. Etruscan Red-figured Oinochoe Depicting Phersipnai and Aita from the Torcop
Group, Produced at Caere, 2 nd half of the 4 th C BCE, Paris, Musée du Louvre. Dim. H. 34.5 cm.
Bibl. Defosse 1972, 496; Del Chiaro 1970, 292-4; Richardson 1977, 96. 150
Fig. III.4. Detail of an Etruscan Polychrome Sarcophagus Depicting the Sacrifice of Trojan
Prisoners by Achilles, from Torre San Severo, late 4 th to early 3 rd C BCE, Orvieto, Museo
Claudio Faina. Dim. H. 80.0 cm. L. 210.0 cm. Bibl. De Azevedo 1970, 10-8; Del Chiaro 1970,
292-4; De Ruyt 1934 93-5; Galli 1916, 1-116; Messerschmidt 1930, 175. 151
Fig. III.5. Etruscan Bronze Stauette of a Wolf-Hound Bearing a Dedicatory Inscription Related
to Calu, from Cortona, Date Unknown, Florence, Museo Archeologico. Dim. Unspecified.
Bibl. Defosse 1972, 498-9; Elliott 1995, 24; Richardson 1977, 95. 152
Fig. III.6. Etruscan Bucchero Oinochoe with Anubis-like figure, from Chiusi, ca. 550 BCE,
Museo Nazionale Collezione Cassucini, Palermo. Dim. H. 49.5 cm, Max D. 34.0 cm, Foot D.
19.0 cm, Mouth D. 18.0 cm. Bibl. Downey 1995, 26; Elliott 1986, 70-9; Gàbrici 1928, 80;
Giglioli 1935, Tav. LIII; Lo Porto 1958, 194-6; Tusa 1956, 147-52; 153
Fig. III.7. Roman White Marble Statue of Hermanubis, from Anzio, 1 st -2 nd C CE, Rome, Museo
Gregoriano Egizio del Vaticano. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Grenier 1978, 141; Grenier 1993, 42;
Leclant 1981, 866; Malaise 1972, 57. 154
Fig. III.8. Etruscan Painted Terracotta Cinerary Urn Depicting a Family Framed by Underworld
Demons, from Chiusi, 150-100 BCE, Berlin, Staatliche Museen. Dim. L. 65.0 cm. Bibl. Brunn
and Körte 1872-1916 III.100.16; De Ruyt 1934, 83-5; Haynes 2000, 342; Mavleev and
Krauskopf 1986, 233; Messerschmidt 1915, 172. 155
Fig. III.9. Roman Bronze Statuette of Silvanus/Sucellus, from Vienne, ca. 14 CE, Baltimore,
Walters Art Gallery. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Nagy 1994, 820; Richardson 1977, 96-7. 156
Fig. III.10. Line Drawing of an Etruscan Alabaster Cinerary Urn Depicting Combat with a
Wolf-Demon, from Chiusi, 2 nd C BCE, Florence, Museo Archeologico. Dim. L. 65.0 cm. Bibl.
Brunn and Körte 1872-1916, III.9.4; Defosse 1972, 488; Elliott 1995, 17-20; Heurgon 1991,
1254-8; Szilágyi 1997, 35. 157
Fig. III.11. Etruscan Travertine Cinerary Urn Depicting Combat with a Wolf-Demon, San Sisto,
2 nd C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. Dim. L. 61.0 cm. Bibl. Brunn and Körte 1872-
1916, III.10.6; Defosse 1972, 489; Elliott 1995, 17-20; Heurgon 1991, 1254-8; Szilágyi 1997,
36. 158
Fig. III.12. Etruscan Terracotta Cinerary Urn Depicting Combat with Wolf-Demon, from
Perugia, 2 nd C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. Dim. L. 50.0 cm. Bibl. Brunn and Körte
1872-1916, III.10.5; Defosse 1972, 489; Elliott 1995, 17-20; Heurgon 1991, 1254-8; Szilágyi
1997, 36. 159
viii

Fig. III.13. Etruscan Bronze Ash Urn Depicting Warriors Encircling a Wild Beast, from
Bisenzio, 8 th C BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia. Dim. 32.5 cm. Bibl. De
Grummond 2006, 4; Elliott 1995, 17-20; Haynes 1985, 246; Proietti et al 1980, 96-7; Torelli
1986, 165-6. 160
Fig. III.14. Pontic Plate by the Tityos Painter, from Vulci, ca. 520 BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco
di Villa Giulia. Dim. H 9.4 cm, D 20.0 cm. Bibl. Cerchiai 1998, 39-44; Cerchiai 2000, 226;
Hannestad 1976, 58; Heurgon 1991, 1253-4; Elliott 1995, 24-6. 161
Fig. III.15. Etruscan Terracotta Statuette of a God Wearing Wolf Skin, from Perugia, ca. 3 rd -2 nd
C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Dozzoni 1983, 79-80; Elliott
1995, 26-7; Messerschmidt 1942, 206; Stenico 1947, 75. 162
Fig. III.16. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of a God Wearing a Wolf Skin, from Città di Castello
(Perugia), 3 rd -2 nd C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. De
Grummond 2006, 179-80; Faraone 1991, 203; Messerschmidt 1942, 207-8; Minto 1927, 475-6.
163
Fig. IV.1. Greek Red Figure Bell Crater Depicting Pan Chasing a Young Shepherd by the Pan
Painter, from Cumae, 470 BCE, Boston, Museum of Fine Arts. Dim. H. 37.1 cm. Bibl.
Beazley 1963, 550; Beazley 1974, 1-2, 10; Borgeaud 1988, 128-9. 164
Fig. IV.2. Roman Bronze Statuette of Faunus Bearing a Branch, Unknown Date, Unknown
Provenance, Paris, Cabinet des Medaillés de la Bibliothéque Nationale. Dim. H. 14.9 cm. Bibl.
Babelon 1928, 34; Babelon and Blanchet 1895, 40-1, Pouthier and Rouillard 1997, 583. 165
Fig. IV.3. Roman Fresco Depicting Pan Amongst the Nymphs from the House of Jason
(IX.5.18) in Pompeii, 1 st quarter of the 1 st C CE, Naples, Museo Archeologico. Dim. H. 120.0
cm. Bibl. Ling 1991, 119; Sampaolo 1999, 670-719. 166
Fig. IV.4. Latin Painted Terracotta Antefix Depicting Juno Sospita, from Antemnae, Beginning
of the 5 th C BCE, Rome, Museo Nazionale Romano. Dim. H. 28.5 cm, W 24.5 cm. Bibl.
Andrén 1939-40, I, 502-3; Cristofani 1987, 115; Cristofani 1990 154; Pensabene-Sanzi Di Mino
1983, 70-1; Quilici-Quilici Gigli 1978, 48-54; Turcan 1988, 23-4. 167
Fig. IV.5. Etruscan “Pontic” Amphora Depicting Hercle and Menerva in Combat with Uni and
Tinia, from Cerveteri, late 6 th C BCE, London, British Museum. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl.
Chiarucci 1983, 61; De Grummond MS 2006, 103; Douglas 1913, Fig. 1; Ducati 1932, 14-5;
Simon 2006, 51-3. 168
Fig. IV.6. Etruscan Bronze Mirror Cover Depicting the Head of Juno Sospita, Odysseus, and
Penelope, from Tarquinia, 3 rd C BCE, Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia. Dim.
Unspeficied. D. 15.0 cm. Bibl. De Grummond 1982, 18; De Grummond 1997, 53-4; De
Grummond 2000b, 53-4; Richardson 1982, 32. 169
ix

Fig. IV.7. Republican Roman Denarius Minted by L. Roscius Fabatus, Unknown Provenance,
ca. 57 BCE, London, British Museum. Dim. D. 0.7 cm. Weight 61 g. Bibl. Grueber 1910, 422;
Mattingly 1960, 62. 170
Fig. IV.8. Imperial Roman Bronze Coin of Antoninus Pius Depicting Juno Sospita on its
Reverse, London, British Museum. Dim. D. 0.35 cm, Weight 23.9 g. Bibl. Mattingly 1940,
lxxxi, 201. 171
Fig. IV.9. Colossal Marble Statue of Juno Sospita, Unknown Provenance, Antonine Period,
Rome, Vatican Museum. Dim. H. 305.0 cm. Bibl. Chiarucci 1983, 56; Helbig I 1895, 219-20;
Douglas 1913, 62; Lippold 1936, 142-4. 172
Fig. IV.10. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of Menerva, Unknown Provenance, Late Archaic Period,
Modena, Galleria Estense. Dim. H. 22.0 cm. Bibl. Cristofani 1985, 280; Herbig 1965, 40;
Richardson 1983, 346-7. 173
Fig. IV.11. Etruscan Bronze Statuette Identified as Juno Sospita Wearing a Wolf-skin,
Unknown Provenance, 5 th C BCE, Florence, Archaeological Museum. Dim. H. 12.0 cm. Bibl.
Cristofani 1985, 281; De Agostino 1968, 57; Richardson 1983, 360-1. 174
Fig. V.1. Etruscan Engraved Bronze Mirror with the Death of the Minotaur at the Hands of
Hercle, Civita Castellana, ca. 300 BCE, Present Location Unknown. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl.
De Grummond MS 2006,183; Jurgeit 1986, 1071; Woodford 1992, 577. 175
Fig. V.2. Etruscan Black-Figure Amphora Depicting Combat Between Hercle and the Minotaur,
Unknown Provenance, Paris, Louvre. Dim. H. 26.0 cm. Bibl. Banti 1973, 187; Camporeale
1965, 118-20; Spivey 1987, 45; Torelli 2000, 608. 176
Fig. V.3. Etruscan Red-Figure Plate by the Settecamini Painter Depicting a Female Cradling an
Infant Bull-Man, Early 4 th C BCE, Paris, Bibliothéque Nationale, Cabinet des Médailles. Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Beazley 1947, 54-5; Bonfante 1989, 88; Brendel 1995, 344; De Ridder 1902,
624-5; Woodford 1992, 577. 177
Fig. V.4. Etruscan Cinerary Urn Depicting the a Scene with the Minotaur as an Infant, Unknown
Provenance, 2 nd C BCE, Volterra, Museo Archeologico. Dim. L. 55cm. Bibl. Beazley 1947,
54; Brunn and Körte II, 11. 178
Fig. V.5. Roman Terracotta Revetment Plaque, from the Regia in the Roman Forum, ca. 610-
600 BCE, Rome, Antiquarium Forense. Dim. H. 10.0 cm. L. 38.7 cm. Bibl. Brendel 1995, 136;
Brown and Scott 1985, 188; Cristofani 1995, 61; Downey 1995, 19-30; Iacopi 1976, 34-5; Massa
Pairault 1992, 43; Romanelli 1955, 203-7; Woodford 1992, 577; Young 1972, 91-2. 179
Fig. V.6. Detail of an Etruscan Fresco Depicting an Ithyphallic Man-bull from the Tomb of the
Bulls, located in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, ca. 540 BCE. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl.
Altheim 1938, 69-71, De Grummond 2006, MS 181-2; Holloway 1986, 447-52; Isler 1970, 176;
Jannot 1974, 769-80; Oleson 1975, 189-200; Steingraber 1985, 350-1. 180
x

Fig. V.7. Etruscan Bronze Mirror Depicting Hercle and Achlae Wrestling, ca. 350 BCE,
Unknown Provenance, Berlin, formerly Antiquarium. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. De Grummond
MS 2006, 181-2, Gerhard IV 1867, 83-4; Isler 1970, 167; Isler 1981, 26; Pfiffig 1980, 50. 181
Fig. V.8. Etruscan Terracotta Shell Antefix Decorated with the Head of a Horned God (Likely
Acheloos), from the Portanaccio Sanctuary at Veii, End of the 6 th C BCE, Rome, Museo
Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia. Dim. H. 44.5 cm. Bibl. Andrén 1940, 7; 2 Isler 1970, 149;
Jannot 1974, 776-7; 3 Proietti 1980, Fig. 132. 182
Fig. V.9. Etruscan Gold Pendant Representing the Head of Acheloos, Unknown Provenance, 6 th
C BCE, Paris, Louvre. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Briguet 1986, 103; Isler 1970, 169; Jannot
1974, 787. 183
Fig. V.10. Etruscan Bronze Boss with Mask of Acheloos, from Tarquinia, beginning of 5 th C
BCE, Rome, Museo Gregorio Etrusco. Dim. D. 40.8 cm. Bibl. Brendel 1995, 213-4; Buranelli
1992, Cat. 24; Haynes 1985, 263-4; Higgins 1961, 152; Isler 1970, 155; Jannot 1974, 781. 184
Fig. V.11. Etruscan Bucchero Oinochoe with the Head of a Calf or Bull, from Chiusi, 550-500
BCE, Florence, Museo Archeologico. Dim. H. 41.3 cm Bibl. Altheim 1938, 73; Brendel 1995,
138-40; Giglioli 1935, 14; Sprenger and Bartoloni 1983, 87-8. 185
Fig. VI.1. Line Drawing of an Etruscan Engraved Bronze Mirror Depicting the Greek Seer
Chalchas Performing the Etruscan Rite of Hepatoscopy, from Vulci, ca. 400 BCE, Rome, Museo
Gregoriano Etrusco. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. De Grummond 2000b, 37-8; De Grummond
2006, 31; De Grummond MS 2006, 54. 186
Fig. VI.2. Line Drawing of an Engraved Etruscan Bronze Mirror Depicting Athrpa amongst the
Divine Couples Turan and Atunis and Atlenta and Meliacr, Perugia, ca. 320 BCE, Berlin,
Antiquarium. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Beazley 1969, 12-3; Bonfante 1998, 53-65; Bonfante
and Bonfante 2002, 160; De Grummond 2000b, 37; Von Vacano 1960, 7-13. 187
Fig. VI.3. Black Gloss Amphora in the Shape of a Woodpecker, Unknown Provenance, 420-400
BCE, New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art. Dim. H. 18.2 cm. Bibl. Cappanna 2000, 225.
188
Fig. VI.4. Terracotta Antefix from Pyrgi Depicting a Man with the Head of a Bird, Late 6 th C
BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia. Dim. H. 43.0 cm, W. 27.5 cm. Bibl. Colonna
1985, 133; Haynes 2000, 176-8; Jannot 2005, 110; Krauskopf 1997, 29-31; Proietti ; Serra
Ridgway 1990, 523-4; Torelli 1986, 185; Verzár 1980, 36-53; von Vacano 1980, 465-7; von
Vacano 1981, 156-7. 189
2
Andrén (1940, 7) provides two other examples of Acheloos antefixes from the Portanaccio series. Pl 3.5 is nearly
identical to Fig. V.6 in this study.
3
Jannot (1974, 776-7) does not cite this specific example but includes two antefixes of the same type from the same
temple, and thus his discussion of these items is relevant.
xi

Fig. VI.5. Reconstruction of Four of Six Antefixes from a Group Which Decorated the Row of
Cells Built in Conjunction with Temple B, from Pyrgi, Late 6 th C BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco di
Villa Giulia. Dim. H. Antefix A 30.0 cm, Antefix B 26.0 cm, Antefix C 27.5 cm, Bibl. Colonna
1985, 133; Haynes 2000, 176-8, Serra Ridgway 1990, 523-4; von Vacano 1980, 463-75, von
Vacano 1981, 153-60. 190
Fig. VI.6. Monumental Stone Relief of an Assyrian Griffin Demon from the Royal Palace of
King Assurnasirpal II at Kalhu, ca 883-859 BCE, located at Kalhu (modern Nimrud). Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Black and Green 1997, 100-1; Krauskopf 1997, 31. 4 191
Fig. VI.7. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of the “Swan Demon,” Unknown Provenance, Late Archaic
Period, Paris, Louvre. Dim. H. 25.4 cm. Bibl. Gerke 1938, 231, no. 89; Herbig and Simon
1965, 31, 49; Messerschmidt 1942, 193-217; Richardson 1983, 362-3. 192
Fig. VI.8. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of the “Swan Demon” Which Decorated a Lamp, Possibly
from the Area of Naples, ca. 300-200 BCE, London, British Museum. Dim. H 29.6 cm. Bibl.
Bailey and Craddock 1978, 75-80; Haynes 1985, 321-2. 193
Fig. VI.9. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of a “Swan Demon” Supported by a Youth Wearing a
Beast’s Skin, Unknown Provenance, ca. 3 rd C BCE, Florence, Museo Archeologico. Dim.
Unspecified. Bibl. Bailey and Craddock 1978, 78; Haynes 1985, 322; Herbig and Simon 1965,
pl.50. 194
Fig. VI.10. Line Drawing of the Tondo in an Apulian Drinking Cup Depicting Ganymede Being
Abducted by a Swan, Unknown Date, Unknown Provenance, Formerly Ruvo, Fenicia Collection
(Now Lost). Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. Krauskopf 1980, 243-5; Reinach 1899, 335; Schauenburg
1969, 133; Sichtermann 1956, K 373; Trendall 1936, 74; Trendall 1987, 144. 195
Fig. VI.11. Fragment of an Etruscan Black Figure Vase from the Orvieto Group Depicting an
Underworld Demon with the Head of a Bird of Prey, Unknown Provenance, beginning of the 5 th
C BCE, Göttingen, Archäologisches Institut. Dim. H. 49.0 cm. Bibl. Krauskopf 1987, 20-3;
Krauskopf 1997, 26. 196
Fig. VI.12. Water Color Rendition of a Fresco Depicting the Demon Tuchulcha Menacing the
Hero These (Greek Theseus) with a Serpent from Tomb of Orcus II, in the Monterozzi
Necropolis, Tarquinia, 2 nd quarter of 4 th C BCE. Dim. Unspecified. Bibl. De Grummond MS
2006, 216-7; De Ruyt 1934, 9-13; Harari 1997, 97-8; Krauskopf 1987, 72-3; Steingraber 1985,
329-32. 197
4 Krauskopf cites a different example of the griffin demon, but her comments apply to this image as well.
xii

ABSTRACT
This dissertation is an interdisciplinary examination of the human-animal hybrid
divinities of ancient Italy and how their iconography, mythic narrative, and cult interrelate. The
deities and demons collected in this text are organized into chapters based on their animal
characteristics represented in both art and literature. These figures are imaged in theriomorphic
(wholly animal) or therianthropic (a combination of human and animal anatomies or a human
form wearing animal dress) forms in addition to their anthropomorphic representations. The
deities and demons included in this study are Aesculapius, Charu(n), and the Genius Loci, who
are depicted with ophidian imagery, Aita, Faunus, Silvanus, and Apollo Soranus with lupine
imagery, Faunus (again), Pan, and Juno Sospita with caprid, the Minotaur and Achelous along
with a discussion of the possible representation of Dionysos in taurine form, Picus and three
unidentified divinities with avian.
By examining these figures, one can see that previous scholarship concerning the Greco-
Roman acceptance of animal worship and the appraisal of these figures as survivals of archaic
religion needs revision. Other issues addressed by this work include the Etruscan and Roman
importation and adoption of foreign gods, goddess and their mythic narratives, the mercurial
nature of pagan deities, the tie between animal imagery and chthonic or liminal figures, the use
of theriomorphic and therianthropic deities as apotropaic devices, and the relationship between
literary and archaeological evidence. These problems are addressed by a close reading of literary
sources and visual analysis of artistic representations of theriomorphic and therianthropic
divinities.
xiii

CHAPTER 1: INTRODUCTION
Until recent times, the idea of a human-animal hybrid belonged only in tales of folklore
and fantasy and the realm of science fiction. The imagination of authors such as H.G. Wells,
who wrote The Island of Dr. Moreau in 1896, brought such creatures to life in novels, but by
2004 technology had advanced to the point at which choosing the sex of one’s child was a real
possibility. This breakthrough prompted politicians to propose some radical legislation reported
by Newsweek, “The President's Council on Bioethics discussed proposals for possible legislation
that would ban the buying and selling of human embryos and far-out reproductive
experimentation, like creating human-animal hybrids.” 1 This topic remained a concern, and in
2006 President George W. Bush made the following appeal to the citizens of the United States
during the State of the Union Address.
Tonight I ask you to pass legislation to prohibit the most egregious abuses of
medical research: human cloning in all its forms; creating or implanting embryos
for experiments; creating human-animal hybrids [italics mine]; and buying,
selling or patenting human embryos. 2
Human-animal hybrids have, from ancient to modern times, held the fascination and fear of the
human race and the potential for the creation of such a hybrid merited not only legal action
against this possibility but also the president’s attention in a national speech. From the earliest of
times, composite creatures have fascinated man, and a 32,000 year old ivory statuette, which
could possibly be the oldest representation of the human form in art, is actually that of a lion-
headed man (Fig. I.1). 3
In his discussion of Fig. I.1, J.J. Putnam states, “The world’s earliest known
anthropomorphic figure pushes back in time evidence of the human ability to create symbols;
this may be an attempt to capture the animal’s power.” 4 What is even more provocative is that
this ivory statuette is not a singular occurrence, and a similar figurine combining lion and human
1 Kalb 2004, 47.
2 For a transcript of the State of the Union address, see CQ Transcriptions (2006, 31 January, http://www.
washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/01/31/AR2006013101468.html).
3 It is Rice’s (1998, 264) proposal that this ivory figure is representative of the earliest attempt of fashioning art in
the form of a human being.
4 Putnam 1988, 467.
1

physiognomy was discovered at Hohle Fels, in Germany. The practice of blending human and
animal anatomy in a statuette such as this one is likely indicative of the recognition of a link
between man and animal or the animal’s possession of similar, possibly desirable, character
traits.
The animal species usually represented — mammoth, bear and lion — are not
ones that would have been eaten (a common feature with this early art). The
postures of these figurines, and their ears and eyes, reveal a close attention paid
to aggressive animal behaviour. They may be material expressions of the shared
personal qualities of humans and animals, as is perhaps indicated by the small
half-human, half-animal figurine from Hohle Fels, and the larger half-lion, halfhuman
figurine found earlier at Hohlenstein-Stadel. Or they may be expressions
of the shared social qualities of single- and group-living species. 5
Statuettes such as those discussed here are evidence for the great antiquity of linking the human
and animal worlds in artistic representation. As I shall demonstrate over the course of this study,
the creation of hybrid creatures is not a practice limited to early human kind, and certainly not
representative of so-called primitive beliefs. 6 In a classical context, human-animal hybrids were
a common part of the mythological tradition: gorgons, centaurs, satyrs, sirens, and Skylla are all
prominent examples of the mingling of human and bestial form, and all of these creatures
possessed a monstrous aspect. These figures are considered lesser divine beings, not “proper”
gods or goddesses, but some of the most influential and widely worshipped deities possessed an
animal aspect as well. 7
In studies of ancient classical religion and myth, it is often stated that the Greeks and
Romans had gods for all occasions, and that each tree, rock, and stream was inhabited by
divinities, yet scholars do not seem to apply this system to the animal world. Modern studies
state that animal worship was “anathema” to the Greeks and Romans, 8 but in the related field of
Egyptology, it has been noted by A. Thomas that, for early men, the animal world was
representative of an order and hierarchy that implied a divine presence. 9 Man has also tended to
5 Sinclair 2003, 774-5.
6 In general the word “primitive” carries negative connotations. I use this word due to the content of earlier
scholarship, but I do not subscribe to a model of primitive man and/or cultures. In fact, a major point of this work is
to disassociate the iconography of human-animal hybrids from the idea of “primitive man.”
7 Monsters (such as the Minotaur), spirits, and other lesser divinities are discussed in this dissertation at the point
where their iconography is critical to an understanding of the deities and demons featured here.
8 Ray 2002, 90; Leavitt 1992, 248. Some of the literary sources from Greece and Rome seem to demonstrate a
stance against animal worship, and these sources will be evaluated over the course of this study.
9 Thomas 1989, 11.
2

see himself reflected in animal behavior, and sometimes expresses relationships using totemism,
a way of thinking that is considered a characteristic of cultures that have not advanced to the
stage of worshipping anthropomorphic divinities. 10 Due in part to these reasons, scholarship
dealing with the religion of the ancient Etruscans and Romans has neglected an important class
of the divinities of ancient Italy. Gods and goddesses who possess the form of an animal
(theriomorphic) or a combination of human and animal bodies (therianthropic), were an
important part of Etruscan and Roman religion and deserve closer study. For the purposes of this
dissertation, three categories of divinity are considered. These are gods whose bodies are part
human and part animal, gods who wear an animal skin as a conspicuous part of their
iconography in relation to their cult, 11 and gods who are commonly represented in human form
but sometimes take the form of a sacred animal in art and/or literature.
Does the notion that the classical world, especially the pragmatic Romans, rejected the
practice of worshipping animals or composite figures hold true under careful examination of the
literary and archaeological sources? R. Turcan indicates that “… Egyptian zoolatry remained an
inexhaustible topic of mockery or indignation among Rome’s pagans” 12 until the High Empire.
One famous passage written by Valerius Maximus, which is often quoted by scholars, seems to
bear this statement out as it does indeed vilify the cult of Isis.
Now I come to those whose safety was procured by a trick. The Plebian Aedile
Marcus Volusius was proscribed. After donning the costume of a priest of Isis,
he made his way through the streets and public roads begging for small offerings
and did not allow any of those whom he met to know his true identity, and, with
this type of trick, he arrived at the camp of Marcus Brutus. Even more wretched
is that he did this out of necessity, which forced a magistrate of the Roman
people to cast aside the mark of his office and go through the city hidden behind
the trappings of a foreign cult! O, they were too desirous of their own well-being
10 Lang 1968, 105; Lévi-Strauss (1963) discusses the problems with defining the term totemism.
11 Lada-Richards (1998, 51) discusses the wearing of animal masks in initiatory rituals and comes to the conclusion
that “masks… when placed on the face of human ritual celebrants, transform them into hybrid beings.” I propose
that the conspicuous use of animal skins in the iconography of a divinity function in the same way. The possibility
of the same figure represented as a true hybrid blending human and animal iconography or a human donning an
animal skin can be found in Chapter Three in my discussion of lupine deities. I must note, however, that I have
excluded Hercules from this study due to his acquisition of the Nemean Lion’s skin as a component of his
iconography. This lion skin serves as a trophy for Hercules and it thus fulfills a different role than the other uses of
animal skins in this study.
12 Turcan 1996, 124.
3

or for the death of someone else, who themselves endured or who forced others
to endure such things as this. 13
But before we assume that this quote speaks out against animal worship, we should
consider its context. K. Dowden suggests that a key component to the “Isis-kit” worn by
Volusius was a “dog’s-head mask,” 14 and this seems to be the prevailing scholarly opinion.
Dowden further notes that “Anubiaci” were priests specifically devoted to the jackal-headed god
Anubis, and this term is parallel to the designation “Isiaci,” priests of Isis. 15 Volusius is
designated as taking up the garb of one of the “Isiaci,” priests who shaved their heads and wore
the “Isis knot.” 16 It is important to note that there is no mention of Volusius donning a mask of
the god Anubis; he is merely stated as having worn the garb of an Isiaci, not one of the Anubiaci.
It is also important to consider that the cult of Isis constitutes a special case in that this cult
suffered a great many reversals of fortune in regards to its reputation amongst the Roman elite.
We should consider that many wealthy houses must have been decorated with Egyptian motifs,
as is suggested by the great number of houses in Pompeii decorated in the Third Pompeian style
(Fig. I.2). 17 We can not use Valerius Maximus’ testimony to argue that the most offensive aspect
of Isaic worship was the inclusion of the god Anubis in the cult. I would argue that Valerius
Maximus does not speak out against the cult of Isis because of the worship of therianthropic
figures but instead speaks out against the fact that a member of the Roman upper-class was
13
Val. Max. VII.3.8. Latin Text taken from Valerius Maximus Memorable Doings and Sayings, Loeb Classical
Library, Vol. 2, edited by D.R. Shackleton Bailey, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2000, pp. 135, 137.
(Translation by Author.)
Veniam nunc ad eos, quibus salus astutia quaesita est. M. Volusius aedilis pl. proscriptus adsumpto Isiaci [Italics
mine] habitu per itinera viasque publicas stipem petens quisnam re vera esset occurrentes dinoscere passus non est
eoque fallaciae genere tectus in M. Bruti castra peruenit. quid illa necessitate miserius, quae magistratum populi
Romani abiecto honoris praetexto alienigenae religionis obscuratum insignibus per urbem iussit incedere? o nimis
aut hi suae vitae aut illi alienae mortis cupidi, qui talia vel ipsi sustinuerunt uel alios perpeti coegerunt!
14
Dowden 1998, 124.
15
Dowden 1998, 124.
16
Turcan 1999, 111.
17
Ling (1990, 52) outlines the basic characteristics of the Third Pompeian Style as wall-painting that abandoned the
illusionistic character of the previous phase for “surface effects and fastidious ornament.” Roman wall painting
between the years of 20 BCE and CE 45 is also characterized by tall, slender structures that do not adhere to
architectonic logic, small panels that depict genre or landscape scenes (sometimes with a sacred or mythological
character), and large swathes of solid color (typically red, black, or yellow). The House of Loerius Tiburtinus is
replete with Egyptianizing motifs and objects including another fresco depicting a second priest of Isis and statues of
sphinxes, the god Bes, and crocodiles. The Augustan Period is known to have been one in which an Egyptianizing
vogue was prominent in the Roman Empire. It is quite possible, that the owner, or a member of his family, was
involved in the cult of Isis, which enjoyed great popularity in Pompeii. It is also important to note, that the priest
shown in Fig. I.2. possesses no animal attributes.
4

forced to adopt the trappings of a foreign religion (in opposition to the mos maiorum) and also to
beg as a way to save his life during a civil war.
As the primary example of theriomorphic and therianthropic cult in the Mediterranean
world, Egyptian religion requires some special treatment here. In 1984 in an important article
that deals with the perception of Egyptian religion and animal worship in the ancient world,
K.A.D. Smelik and E.A. Hemelrijk collected the literary evidence that has been used to
substantiate the claim that the Romans categorically rejected animal deities. 18 (In 1998, K.
Dowden produced his study, a similar, but considerably shorter, article in much the same vein.) 19
The evidence collected by these scholars does not completely support a negative appraisal of
Egyptian religion and seems instead to bolster the idea that there were “…two attitudes current in
the Roman world with regard to animal worship: animal worship as a ridiculous and despicable
phenomenon, and animal worship, although outrageous at first glance, as a symbol for hidden
wisdom.” 20 A more careful reading of some of these sources and an understanding of the
author’s agenda or the genre of the piece are necessary for a proper assessment of the Roman
reception of animal worship. 21 We may also appreciate the way in which these literary sources
have influenced the modern appraisal of animal worship in general.
Smelik and Hemelrijk’s study is an admirable attempt at assessing the Roman perception
of Egyptian religion, and therefore animal worship, but their article is hampered by a number of
factors. The earliest literary evidence that we may use for evaluating the conceptualization of
Egyptian animal worship in the Greco-Roman world, and by extension the Roman perception of
theriomorphic and therianthropic gods, is Cicero, and thus Smelik and Hemelrijk’s study
immediately faces several problems. 22 Their article does not contain literary sources that deal
with native Italian deities or religious practices as comparative material for the Egyptian
evidence. Material culture is also not used to support their conclusions, and thus the reader is
18 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1852-2000.
19 Dowden (1998, 113-33) falls prey to the same problems as Smelik and Hemelrijk. Just like Smelik and
Hemelrijk, several of Dowden’s statements indicate the complexity of the Roman view of Egyptian theriomorphic
and therianthropic deities. For example, Dowden (1998, 120) states “Yet this disparagement of Egyptian religion
contrasts sharply with the use of Egypt as a sign of deep knowledge resulting from a sacred tradition of unparalleled
lenth.”
20 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1968. I believe that narrowing the possibilities down to two viewpoints remains
restrictive, but at least these scholars suggest that the Romans were capable of accepting the worship of animal and
hybrid divinities. Unfortunately, they subordinate any possibility of a positive appraisal (and also their evidence) to
a more negative stance.
21 The sources used here are selected from those gathered by Smelik and Hemelrijk.
22 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1855.
5

left with an incomplete appraisal of animal worship. Cicero, like the other authors used to
support Smelik and Hemelrijk’s claims, was a member of the upper class in Rome, and thus his
views may or may not reflect those of the common man. Along similar lines, there may also be
differences between the religious practices that occurred in the city as opposed to those which
occurred in rustic regions. Something else to consider is that due to a lack of Etruscan literature
and substantial remains of Italic literature, textual sources cannot be gathered to study the
opinions held by the other peoples of Italy. For assessing the views of the Etruscans and Italic
tribes we must turn to the archaeological evidence. Cicero and other authors can offer only an
incomplete picture of this complex religious phenomenon.
Even so, the literary sources do allow us a glimpse at what a specific class of Romans
thought about animal worship. At De Re Publica III.9,14, during a discussion of what is just and
unjust, Cicero refers to the Egyptians as uncorrupted and points to the antiquity of their religious
practice.
… first, he would see [those things] in the most pure people of Egypt, a race
which holds the memory of written records of ages and events beyond
numbering, that they thought a certain bull was a god, whom the Egyptians call
Apis, and among them many other marvels and animals of all kinds are set apart
as sacred to a number of the gods. 23
We may infer that the Romans must have thought of animal worship as an “ancient” practice. 24
Here Cicero does not make a negative assessment of the Egyptians’ religion, he simply states
that it was old and unchanging. Cicero further indicates his appraisal of Egyptian religion
through the discussants of his De Natura Deorum at I.29,81 by contrasting the “barbarous”
practice of animal worship with the impiety practiced by the Romans who worship
anthropomorphic gods, for doubts concerning the godhood of their deities are unknown to the
Egyptians. Again, we are left with an assessment that is far from negative. In fact, those who
23 Cic. De Rep. III.14. Latin Text taken from Cicero De Re Publica, De Legibus, Loeb Classical Library, Vol. 16,
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2000, p 193. (Translation by Author.)
…videat primum in illa incorrupta maxume gente Aegyptiorum, quae plurimorum saeculorum et eventorum
memoriam litteris continet, bovem quendam putari deum, quem Apim Aegyptii nominant, multaque alia portenta
apud eosdem et cuiusque generis beluas numero consecratas deorum…
24 In Chapter Three, while discussing the Lupercalia, I shall return to this point. Scholars seem particularly keen to
point to the Greek region of Arcadia as a place where animal worship would have taken place due to the retention of
ancient practices there. For example, Borgeaud (1988, 3-4) refers to Arcadia as a “veritable storehouse of archaism
in politics, language, and religion.”
6

worship animals are thought to be more pious and devoted to their religion than those who
worship gods in human form.
speaks.
Cicero seems to express a different opinion at De Natura Deorum III.19,47 when Cotta
If those are gods, whom we worship and accept, why do we not count Serapis
and Isis amongst them? And, why deny the gods of the barbarians? Therefore,
we should place oxen and horses, ibises, hawks, serpents, crocodiles, fish, dogs,
wolves, cats, in addition to many other beasts amongst the proper number of the
gods. 25
At first glance, this quote seems quite opposed to Egyptian religion due to the implication that
the Romans do not place beasts amongst the gods. But Cotta’s statement is taken in the larger
context of his argument, we see that he is attacking not only Egyptian religion. Cotta goes on to
question the godhood of Greek and Roman deities.
And if we reject those, we must also reject those who bore them. What then? Is
Ino to be considered a goddess called Leukothea by the Greeks and Matuta by us,
since she was a daughter of Cadmus; moreover are Circe, Pasiphae, and Aeetes,
daughters of Perseis (a daughter of Ocean) and of father Sun, to be held in the
number of the gods? 26
Cotta’s remarks are not designed to attack animal worship but the acceptance of the existence of
deities in general. We can see from these examples that Cicero’s depiction of animal worship is
by no means wholly negative and primarily functions as a way of denoting the antiquity of the
Egyptians and their foreign qualities.
One literary topos used as evidence of a negative appraisal of animal worship is the trope
of Anubis latrans, or barking Anubis. 27 This phrase appears in Vergil’s Aeneid during his
25 Cic. Nat. D. III.19,47. Latin Text taken from Cicero Nature of the Gods, Academics, Loeb Classical Library,
Vol. 19, edited by J. Henderson, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2000, pp. 330, 332. (Translation by
Author.)
… si di sunt illi, quos colimus et accepimus, cur non eodem in genere Serapim Isimque numeremus? quod si
facimus, cur barbarorum deos repudiemus? Boves igitur et equos, ibis, accipitres, aspidas, crocodilos, pisces, canes,
lupos, faelis, multas praeterea beluas in deorum numerum reponemus.
26 Cic. Nat. D. III.19, 47-8. Latin Text taken from Cicero Nature of the Gods, Academics, Loeb Classical Library,
Vol. 19, edited by J. Henderson, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2000, p. 332.
Quae si reicimus, illa quoque, unde haec nata sunt, reiciemus. Quid deinde? Ino dea ducetur et a
Graecis, a nobis Matuta dicetur, cum sit Cadmi filia, Circe autem er Pasiphaë et Aeeta e Perseide Oceani filia natae
patre Sole in deorum numero non habebuntur?
27 In addition to the Vergilian example produced here, Propertius III.11,41 refers to Anubis as latrantem in reference
to the conflict between Antony as Cleopatra’s pawn, and Augustus.
7

presentation of the Battle of Actium as Antony and Cleopatra are readied to engage Octavian’s
fleet in combat.
All types of gods and monsters and Anubis the Barker
Hold their weapons against Neptune, Venus, and Minerva. 28
This small excerpt is part of a larger passage in which Antony is made into a foreign enemy as
the thrall of Cleopatra, a point that Smelik and Hemelrijk note but then seem to forget. 29
Vergil’s purpose here is not to criticize Egyptian cult but to demonize Antony. Association with
Egyptian deities is one tool Vergil uses to make Antony less Roman. We must remember,
though, that Vergil is not writing a commentary on the merits of religion; he is dealing with one
of the most politicized events of Roman history. The most commonly noted characteristic of
Egyptian deities is that they were hybrids, and this is surely the reason that Vergil chooses to
emphasize this aspect of their character, to point out that they are “a wondrous phenomenon from
a strange and far-away country.” 30
Smelik and Hemelrijk also point to Pliny the Elder as an example of anti-Egyptian
sentiment. They note, though, that Pliny does not specifically address the issue of animal
worship, except in the case of the Apis bull, a cult he treats favorably. 31 In order to turn this into
an anti-animal sentiment, Smelik and Hemelrijk state,
One gets the impression from this passage and from the fact that according to
Pliny the Apis-bull approved and appreciated his veneration, that Pliny was less
negative in his judgment of the Apis-cult than in that of animal worship in
general. This can probably be seen in relation to the high regard Pliny holds for
the ox… this example shows that the personal attitude towards the (or an)
animal can influence the conception one has of Egyptian animal worship. 32
If we follow Smelik and Hemelrijk’s analysis of Pliny’s testimony, Pliny does not appear to be
entirely adverse to animal cult, and Smelik and Hemelrijk are forced to minimize his positive
feelings towards the Apis bull by stating that Pliny’s personal bias towards the ox influences his
28 Verg. Aen. VIII.670-3. Latin Text taken from Virgil Aeneid 7-12, The Minor Poems, Loeb Classical Library, Vol.
2, edited by G.P. Goold , Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998, p. 108. (Translation by Author.)
omnigenumque deum monstra et latrator Anubis / contra Neptunum et Venerem contraque Minervam / tela tenent.
29 Smelik and Hemelrijk (1984, 1855) state that “Virgil wants to use the Roman abhorrence of Egyptian
theriomorphic gods in order to create a hostile feeling towards Anthony and Cleopatra.” This is an overstatement of
great proportion.
30 Smelik and Hemelrijk (1984, 1958) state this in relation to Tibullus I.7 and also Ovid’s mention of the Apis bull at
Amores II.13, 13-4.
31 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1960.
32 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1960.
8

opinion. This is a weak argument in support of a negative assessment of animal cult, but it does
point out that personal opinion is one large factor that we must take into account when dealing
with these literary sources. Again, the author’s viewpoint may or may not apply to the populace
at large.
Plutarch’s assessment of animal worship in his treatment of the cult of Isis and Osiris has
been interpreted in two, quite opposite, ways. Based on their reading of Plutarch’s text, Smelik
and Hemelrijk produce contradictory statements that support both a negative and positive view
of animal worship. At one moment they state that,
… Plutarch makes it clear that he cannot accept animal worship as such and that
his interpretation of it is only an effort to present what was in fact unacceptable
to himself and to his public, in such a way that it might be valued. 33
This opinion is no doubt based upon a passage in Plutarch in which he states the following:
But not least are the Egyptians well used to this in reference to the
animals they honor. The Greeks, on the other hand, speak correctly in relation to
these matters and regard the dove as the sacred animal of Aphrodite, the serpent
of Athena, the raven of Apollo, and the dog of Artemis. Thus Euripides says,
“You shall be a dog, an image of bright Hekate.”
The majority of Egyptians, though, worship the animals themselves and
treat them as gods, thus not only have they confounded the sacred rites with
laughter and mockery, but this is the least evil of their stupidity; a terrible belief
is implanted which subverts the weak and guileless into impotent superstition,
but the more cunning and rash fall into godless and savage reasoning. 34
But this is not the whole picture, as Smelik and Hemelrijk indicate in reference to the following
passage. “Therefore, we should not honor these, but through them honor the Divine since they
33 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1961. The assumption that Plutarch is wholly against animal worship is based
primarily on Plut. De Is. et Os. 71, at which point he refers to the practice as a “stark superstition.” This is not the
complete picture, however, as can be seen from numerous other points in Plutarch’s text and the Greek examples of
animal cult he provides.
34 Plut. De Is. et Os. 71. Greek Text taken from Plutarch’s De Iside et Osiride, edited by J G Griffith, Cambridge:
University of Wales Press, 1970, p. 228, 230. (Translation by Author.)
! " # $% &&' ( ) *
( & + ( , - . / 0 , '( 1 2 3 . 4 5(
/ ' 6 ( . / &&" ( . 5( / (7 8 ( % , (9
:;% 4 '( < & 0" 0 " * =:9
9 ," / - && ( 1 ( 8 ( >( &" ( )
?& &@ ( - , (7 A && 5( A B & ' , ( C&4 ? C 9
/C 0 3 >( ) A D( A 4 ( ( < E , 3 , 7 D( )
( ( ( A ( C , ' ( & (#
9

are more distinct mirrors by the nature of their birth also.” 35 Plutarch thus indicates that animal
worship is acceptable when viewed as a metaphor for honoring the gods.
In the latter instance, animal worship is not viewed in a negative light, and one can argue
that Plutarch depicts it in a favorable fashion by supporting the opinion that the Egyptians had
discovered secret knowledge unknown to Plutarch’s audience, and that, when interpreted as an
allegory, animal worship was quite reasonable. 36 Scholars such as D.S. Richter read Plutarch’s
text as wholly negative and see Plutarch’s treatment of Egyptian myth as a critique of the
practice of animal worship. Richter 37 proposes that Plutarch’s account of the myth of Isis and
Osiris and the cult that accompanied it is a Middle-Platonic quest to prove the primacy of Greek
philosophy over Egyptian religion, and argues that the Greeks understood the concept of divinity
better than the Egyptians.
Before continuing with an analysis of the texts gathered by Smelik and Hemelrijk, we
may pause, for there are two important points to make. The first of these is that the literary
sources are not wholly negative, and are at worst ambivalent to the worship of animals. We
cannot use them as firm proof that the Romans were as strongly opposed to animal worship as
past scholarship has led us to believe. Secondly, it seems problematic to ascribe the beliefs of
these authors to the population at large who would be practicing the religions in question. 38
Certainly, this is true of Plutarch, a member of the wealthy, elite, and educated class, who
disavowed superstition. The Romans classified ritual practices in one of two ways: religio or
superstitio, 39 and it is possible that the Roman upper-class would have thought of animal worship
as a rustic practice categorized as superstitio. In fact, Egyptian gods and their images are
prevalent in the practice of magic. 40
If we follow Richter and the notion that Plutarch seeks to justify Greco-Roman religious
practice through Middle-Platonic philosophy, we can safely assume that he is not representative
35
Plut. De Is. et Os. 76. Greek Text taken from Plutarch’s De Iside et Osiride, edited by J G Griffith, Cambridge:
University of Wales Press, 1970, p.240. (Translation by Author.)
…[ F G (7 A && " . D 8 ( C " C " 0
" #
36
Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1968.
37
Richter 2001, 194, 209.
38
North (2000, 8) states, “The extant evidence generally reflects not the experience of the mass of individual
Romans, but the religious activity that affects the state and its activities, above all the doings of magistrates and
priests.”
39
Beard, North, Price 1998, 214-27.
40 Graf 1997, 5.
10

of the common man who did not have time for philosophical pursuits. It may be that class
played a role in the acceptance of theriomorphic and therianthropic figures. The members of the
elite class who were required to uphold traditional values may have had to, at least publicly,
disavow the worship of animal or hybrid divinities. Yet we have evidence for the acceptance of
deities such as Juno Sospita, who donned an animal skin, over a large span of time; she was
embraced by Archaic Etruscans and Latins of the 6 th century BCE as well as the 2 nd century CE
Roman emperor Antoninus Pius. 41 As will be demonstrated in Chapter Four, Juno Sospita’s
traditional iconography reveals her kinship to liminal theriomorphic and therianthropic deities.
Smelik and Hemelrijk base the title of their article, “ ‘Who knows not what monsters
demented Egypt worships?’ Opinions on Egyptian Animal Worship in Antiquity as Part of the
Ancient Conception of Egypt,” on Juvenal’s Satire XV, which begins with a remark on Egyptian
religion.
Who does not know, Bithynian Volusius, 42 what sort
Of portentous gods the crazy Egyptian worships?
Some worship the crocodile, some tremble at the ibis sated with serpents.
A golden effigy of a monkey gleams,
Where magic chords resound from cloven Memnon
And ancient Thebes of one hundred gates lies ruined.
Whole cities worship cats here, or river-fish there,
There they worship a dog, no one venerates Diana. 43
Smelik and Hemelrijk translate portenta as “monstrous” here instead of “portentous” or
“marvelous.” It is important to remember that labeling something a monster is not an
uncomplicated idea. Just as the Latin word monstrum can possess several different definitions,
so too can the English equivalent. I. Lada-Richards sums up the idea of monstrosity as follows:
If we were to look for one single element of constancy within the ever- changing
borders of ‘monstrosity’, this would almost certainly be the relativity of the
‘monster’ as a humanly constructed concept, that is to say, the simple truth that
41 In this instance, there is a clear acceptance of a therianthropic deity by the upper-classes. Note, however, that she
is a native Latin divinity and not a Greek or Egyptian import.
42 Rudd (1991, 229) refers to this Volusius as “otherwise unknown;” however, one must wonder if Juvenal was not
familiar with the Volusius mentioned at Val. Max. VII.3.8 since both of these passages deal with an abhorrence of
Egyptian religious practice.
43 Juv. Sat. XV.1-8. Latin Text taken from D. Ivnii Ivvenalis Savrae XIV, edited by J.D. Duff, Cambridge, MA:
Cambridge University Press, 1966, p. 106. (Translation by Author.)
Quis nescit, Volusi Bithynice, qualia demens / Aegyptos portenta colat? crocodilon adorat / pars haec, illa pavet
saturam serpentibus ibin. / effigies sacri nitet aurea cercopitheci, / dimidio magicae resonant ubi Memnone chordae /
atque vetus Thebe centum iacet obruta portis. / illic aeluros, hic piscem fluminis, illic / oppida tota canem
venerantur, nemo Dianam.
11

its prerogatives and its essence are powerfully interlocked with the perennial
dialectic of ‘Otherness’ with respect to ‘Norm’. And, as norms are culturally
determined, ‘monsters’ too become inevitably culture-specific products. 44
It is interesting that literary sources do not treat theriomorphic or therianthropic gods native to
Italy in the same way as Egyptian gods. As we shall see in Chapter Two, the Romans were quite
at home with representations of serpents in their household shrines and did not label them as
“monstrous.” 45 Latin sources indicate a difference in the degree of acceptance of Roman deities
as opposed to Egyptian deities.
Thus, we may accept the translation of portenta as “monstrous,” but this meaning may
partially obscure the goal of Juvenal’s satire, which is not strictly focused on condemning animal
worship. 46 In order to fully appreciate this text, we must take two things into account: Juvenal’s
genre and the tradition of his exile. 47 Firstly, satire is a genre filled with invective; Juvenal’s
poems are no exception and are often bitter in tone. (Smelik and Hemelrijk ignore this fact.)
Secondly, assuming that Juvenal is not simply adopting a satiric persona for his writing, 48 we
must be mindful that he was exiled to Egypt, a fact that would not likely have inclined him to
paint a favorable picture of the country. Green states the following in relation to Juvenal’s
feelings toward Egypt and its people: “We know, on his own testimony, that he had visited
Egypt, and loathed the Egyptians, with a xenophobic ferocity that eclipses even his distaste for
the Greeks.” 49 Thus we must ask ourselves if we should take any statement he makes at face
value. Something else to consider is that his poems were not well received until several
44 Lada-Richards 1998, 46.
45 Due to this double-standard of dealing with foreign gods, I have chosen to restrict the deities dealt with in this
paper to either native deities and demons found on Italian soil or those that have been officially sanctioned in some
way. Aesculapius serves as the primary example of the latter category. Egyptian deities met with varying degrees
of acceptance in different time periods and form a special case that is beyond the scope of this study.
46 Smelik and Hemelrijk (1984, 1966) believe that Juvenal’s extreme hatred of the Egyptians caused him to lose
sight of what was the original topic of this poem. “In the fifteenth satire Juvenal concentrates so much on
expressing his antipathy to the Egyptians who give themselves over to bestial cruelties beyond all reason and no
longer suitable to the times (at least according to Juvenal’s judgment) that he completely loses sight of his original
subject, animal worship.” Are we to believe that Juvenal’s emotions caused him to be a sloppy author?
47 Green (2004, xiv-v) notes that Juvenal was exiled by either Domitian of Trajan and the location of this exile was
likely Egypt. Some accounts of Juvenal’s life place his exile in Scotland. It is not certain when he wrote his Satires,
but one tradition holds that he edited them while exiled in Egypt. Green expresses his doubts in relation to the late
editing of the Satires.
48 Green 2004, xxvii-xxix.
49 Green 2004, xxii.
12

centuries after his death. 50 Thus his opinions should not be taken uncritically as representative of
his time.
It is not until Lucian, a satirist like Juvenal, that one can point to a text that specifically
ridicules Egyptian worship of human-animal hybrids. But even in the text of Lucian, there is a
debate as to the merit of the Egyptian gods, and we are again dealing with a satirical author who
writes for dramatic effect. While the character of Momus in the Deorum Concilium attacks the
presence of theriomorphic and therianthropic gods on Mount Olympus, Zeus defends them. It is
thus difficult to state whether or not Lucian was in favor of animal cult.
As we can see from this brief literary survey one cannot demonstrate unequivocally a
dislike of animal worship among the Romans. The archaeological evidence introduced later in
this study in relation to the cult and mythical narratives of individual gods also bears out this
point. In the opinion of this author, those who exclude animal worship from the realms of
Etruscan and Roman religion are closed minded. The ancient peoples of Italy primarily
worshipped gods in anthropomorphic form, but conceiving of gods in the shape of man does not
strictly forbid the conception of gods as animals or a combination of man and beast.
Further reasons for not accepting the proposition that the classical world patently rejected
the idea of animal worship can be found in cult titles of various gods. In a Greek context, R.D.
Miller’s dissertation The Origin and Original Nature of Apollo addresses two of Apollo’s
epithets which seem to point in the direction of Apollo as a therianthropic deity, Apollo
Smintheus and Apollo Lykeios. 51 Apollo is here associated with two distinct animals, the mouse
and wolf respectively, which were important to two aspects of his cult. In both of these contexts,
Apollo is regarded as an animal and as the “averter” of the very same animal. To support
Apollo’s appearance as a sacred wolf, Miller notes that an inscription of the 5 th C BCE records
the presence of wolf-skins at the temple of Apollo in Delphi. 52 Miller draws support from
Farnell’s Cults of the Greek States, which refers to
… a very primitive period of religious thought when Apollo was still the wooddeity
of a race of hunters and shepherds, and the fierce beast of the wood was
regarded as his natural and sacred associate and occasional incarnation. 53
50 Green 2004, xiv.
51 Miller 1939, 34-7.
52 Miller 1939, 36. Farnell (1907, 117) proposes “that it was as ( or " ( that the god first delivered
his Pythian oracles, as in other places we find the wolf-god dealing in divination.” Richardson (1977, 93) also notes
the close connection between the wolf and Apollo at Delphi.
53 Farnell 1896-1909, iv.116. I shall return to this notion of the worship of therianthropes as primitive in a moment.
13

Given the importance of the cult of Apollo at Delphi, one cannot simply dismiss animal worship
in the classical world out of hand.
The perception that the ancients abhorred animal worship is no doubt one contributing
factor to the scant treatment these theriomorphic and therianthropic deities received in major
works on Etruscan and Roman religion. In Archaic Roman Religion, G. Dumézil attempted to
prove that Roman religion was founded upon Indo-European roots, conspicuously demonstrated
by an archaic triad formed by the gods Jupiter, Mars, and Quirinus. 54 Dumézil’s argument,
which is not convincing, does not discuss the possible worship of animals in ancient Rome, nor
does he address this topic in his appendix dedicated to Etruscan religion. A recent work, M.
Beard, S. Price, and J. North’s Religions of Rome, which has become a basic textbook for
students of Roman religion, also pays little attention to theriomorphic and therianthropic
divinities.
In fact, the topic that is most commonly addressed in the study of Etruscan and early
Roman religion is the influence of the Greeks upon the people of Italy. 55 (This is indeed a topic
worthy of discussion, and it is addressed several times in the present work in relation to
theriomorphic and therianthropic gods.) One misconception which must be addressed deals with
the nature of Etruscan and Roman myth. In the past, scholars such as H.J. Rose and R.M.
Ogilvie were both guilty of reducing Roman myth to a mere derivation of Greek models. 56 The
influence of Greek myth on the Romans and Etruscans should not be dismissed, but it should
also not be overemphasized. D. Feeney has recently spoken out in favor of the Roman utilization
of Greek myths as a dynamic process and a creative strategy of appropriation, and N. de
54 Dumézil 1970, 141-282.
55 Altheim (1938, 124) poses the question of Roman adoption of Greek gods as one of time and comprehension of
the divine but yet comes to the conclusion that “When the Greeks came, it was discovered that on them too the
divine reality had shone, but that both in picture and cult, it had been incomparably more plainly seen and worked
out in more convincing and appealing forms.” Richardson (1976, 128) implies that the proper way to makes sense
of Etruscan myth and cult is to fit it into a “Greek pattern.” North (2000, 4) summarizes the derisive view of Roman
myth as follows: “It has sometimes been said that the Romans simply had no mythology of their own and that it was
for that reason that they later borrowed the mythology of the Greeks… In so far as they [Romans] tell such stories
they always seem to reflect Greek myths in Roman guise.”
56 Rose (1929, 305-334) offers the title “Italian Pseudo-Mythology” for what is commonly thought of as Roman
myth. In this section of his text, Rose (1929, 306) states, “Italian gods were vague personalities, with definite and
limited functions, and are not thought of as marrying, having children, forming connexions of love or friendship
with mortals, or doing any of the things which Greek imagination ascribed to the Olympians.”
14

Grummond has done the same for the Etruscans. 57 It would seem that many scholars who
consider Etruscan and Roman myth do not keep in mind the important truth that myths
…frequently show variations from place to place or from time to time (i.e.
synchronically or diachronically), and to be understood, each myth should be
studied within its own temporal and spatial context.” 58
Another consideration brought up by Feeney is that at a certain point, a Greek import can
become more Roman than Greek. In the proper context, an import can be imbued with meanings
which it did not originally possess. Small also endorses this point of view when she states,
The scholarly tendency to label ancient things as purely Greek, Etruscan, or
Roman has confused the issue by opposing Greek stories to local legends.
Indeed the two formed a continuous whole for both the Hellenistic Etruscan and
Roman. 59
This tendency to appropriate narratives also applies to deities and their iconography, and we
must be mindful of the dynamic interchange of ideas and the shifting nature of paganism when
dealing with theriomorphic and therianthropic deities.
Scholarly works focused on Greek religion dealing with the topic of theriomorphic and
therianthropic deities factor into the current study; even so they labor under the problems I have
just discussed. The cults of these divinities are considered oddities and remnants of
unsophisticated culture. The region of Arcadia seems to be considered a nexus for such
archaism, and M.N. Nilsson repeatedly refers to the cults found there as “backward.” 60 In his
article of 1894, A.B. Cook discussed the many animal “gods” that one can find represented in the
prehistoric Bronze Age and commented upon their connections to cults found in Greece during
historic times. 61 A recent exhibition catalogue, The Centaur’s Smile: The Human Animal in
Early Greek Art ed. by J.M. Padgett, deals with the iconography of human-animal hybrids in
ancient Greece, but it primarily covers “daimones” and “genies” such as satyrs, centaurs, sirens,
and sphinxes and only two deities, Pan and Achelous. Even so, this material remains relevant for
the present study.
57 Feeney 1998, 66-70; De Grummond 2006a, xii.
58 De Grummond 2006a, xii. Along similar lines, Childs (2004, 63) stresses the selectivity of the Greeks in
borrowing elements from the Near East. When the Etruscans or Romans borrow a figure or motif, scholars are not
generous enough to refer to them as “selective” and instead imply that they are derivative or worse.
59 Small 1986, 89-90.
60 Nilsson 1961, 9, 22.
61 Cook 1894, 159.
15

In general, theriomorphic and therianthropic deities are accepted as a commonplace only
in the context of Egyptian religion. Local and state gods often took the form of a human figure
with an animal head, and these figures abound in Egyptian art. Interestingly enough, the
influence of the Egyptians on the cultures of Greece and Italy has been noted in many contexts,
including religion, and yet the possibility of Etruscan or Roman worship of theriomorphic and
therianthropic deities is still left out of the discussion of Etruscan and Roman cult. For the
Egyptians, “Animals functioned much as did cult statues, and were simply one vehicle through
which the gods could make their will manifest, and through which the faithful could demonstrate
their devotion to the gods.” 62 There is evidence in the religion of ancient Italy for the belief in a
divine presence in the animal world, but scholarly literature primarily focuses on animals as
instruments of revealing divine will. 63 Because of this, the possibility of Egyptian and other
Near Eastern prototypes in the creation of the iconography of Etruscan and Roman therianthropic
deities is one topic explored in this study.
There are various theoretical frameworks we might apply to the myths of theriomorphic
and therianthropic divinities. A useful summary and critical appraisal of these approaches
appears in G.S. Kirk’s The Nature of Greek Myths, 64 and thus, such a summation need not be
attempted here. Nevertheless, some relevant points bear repeating. No universal theory can
wholly account for the variations present in all myths, but the relationships among nature, ritual,
cult, images, and myth must be considered. Each interpretation presents the student of myth with
a tool that may be used to gain insight into an individual tale, and thus I employ a selective use
of mythological theory in this study. By relating theriomorphic and therianthropic gods to these
various theories and examining them through different “lenses,” we can come closer to
understanding these beings.
The theoretical framework in which these gods have been discussed in the past may be
another reason that they are not addressed in more depth in recent studies of Roman and Etruscan
religion; they are associated with older, “out-dated” scholarship and ideas, such as the writings of
62 Thompson 2002, 70.
63 The practice of studying the flight and behavior of birds, augury, is one example of using animals to interpret the
intentions of the gods. Hepatoscopy, examining the liver of a sacrificial victim, is another example of how the
cosmos can be reflected in an animal. On the other hand, at least one of Horace’s poems (Ode 3.18) seems to be
closer to an Egyptian standpoint, in which a god manifests itself as an animal as opposed to using the animal as an
instrument. Animals sent as omens, such as the wolf wandering among the lambs without slaughtering them, are
one example.
64 Kirk 1974, 38-91.
16

A. Lang and J.G. Frazer. Both of these scholars now suffer from a degree of notoriety, and
their theories are sometimes dismissed by current scholarship as learned but extreme. This
notoriety stems from their adherence to the theory that myth and ritual are one and the same, and
the inadequacy of proposing such an equation as a universal explanation for the entirety of Greek
myth. 65 While the work of Frazer and Lang will not be wholly accepted in this dissertation, in
my opinion, it is relevant to the myths and cults of theriomorphic and therianthropic gods since
understanding rituals may help us understand the nature of a deity.
Lang was a proponent of the notion that these gods were leftovers of an early stratum of
ancient religion, and that they were eventually replaced by more advanced and civilized
anthropomorphic deities. 66 Frazer proposes a similar idea in The Golden Bough, when he deals
with the regenerative “corn spirit.” After cataloguing many of the guises the corn-spirit could
take throughout Europe, 67 Frazer proceeds to discuss the various animal forms gods took in
antiquity. 68 The gods he covers include Dionysos, Pan, Demeter, Persephone, Adonis, Attis, and
Osiris. His conclusion is that the animal embodiments of each of these gods and goddesses is
representative of the shift from an early conception of the god in theriomorphic form to a later
conception of the god in anthropomorphic form. 69 He attempts to support this idea with the
assumption that each god was once incarnated as the animal that was sacrificed to him or her; he
goes so far as to suggest that since pigs were sacrificed to both Demeter and Persephone during
the ritual of the Thesmophoria and, because pigs are associated with the corn-spirit in European
folklore, these two goddesses must once have been conceived of as sacred pigs. 70 Certainly, the
sacrifice of an animal represents an extreme act of devotion on the part of the worshipper. One
is offering up a valuable possession to the god, and, in the case of some animals, one that
guarantees the continued prosperity of a household or community. (This action is by necessity
65 Kirk 1974, 67.
66 Lang 1968, 118.
67 Frazer 1922, 466-74.
68 Frazer 1922, 475-97.
69 Along these lines, one issue which must be dealt with is totemism. Theriomorphic and therianthropic deities are
often assumed to be part of a primitive tendency of man to worship a totem animal. Since not all of the
theriomorphic and therianthropic deities conform to the tenets of totemism outlined by Frazer, I shall briefly treat
totemism in Chapter Six during my discussion of the god Picus, whom Frazer thought was the best possibility for
identifying totemism in ancient Italy.
70 Frazer 1922, 484. Bevan (1986, 69) states the following in relation to this theory, “A myth in which Demeter or
Persephone were transformed into swine would lend support to Frazer’s idea; but as far as I know none survives.”
17

paradoxical, as the loss of a valuable resource is meant to secure that same resource. 71 ) But such
a sacrifice need not mean that a god or goddess was believed to take the form of the sacrificial
animal. 72
The example of Aesculapius, who was often conceived of in the form of a snake, serves
to refute Frazer’s hypothesis. While the snake was key to Aesculapius’ cult, there are no
examples of snakes being sacrificed to him. There are also numerous other instances of animals
sacred to but not sacrificed to classical deities. For example, both the woodpecker and the wolf
were sacred to the Roman god of war, Mars, yet these two animals are never sacrificed to the
god. There are also no instances in which Mars is ever depicted as a wolf, wearing a wolf-skin,
or in the form of a woodpecker. In fact, the appearance as a wolf is associated with chthonic
deities such as the Etruscan Aita or sylvan deities such as Faunus. If Mars were to take the form
of animals sacrificed to him, then we would also expect to see him in the form of a horse, since
the horse was the victim of an important sacrifice to the deity. 73 Thus we can see that the
equating of deity with sacrificial animal often does not hold true.
Frazer also proposes the idea that an animal that injures a deity in a myth was once a
representation of the deity. It is by confusion of the ritual, which the myth attempts to explain by
using the animal as an enemy of the deity, that the animal becomes vilified. His theory is that
there is a shift in which the animals are sacrificed as the god, then to the god for their actions.
He bases this idea on various myths associated with the gods Attis, Adonis, and Osiris, and then
further applies them to Athena and Virbius. 74 Again, I believe that Frazer is inferring too much
from these myths and is ungrounded in his assumptions. It is too much to ask that since a boar is
71 Rice (1998, 42) outlines the theory of sacrifice described in the body of this chapter (pgs. 17-18) in reference to
the practices of the ancients, a model based on the concept of “do ut des.” A different approach to the paradoxical
nature of sacrifice is explored by R. Brightman in his text Grateful Prey: Rock Cree Human-Animal Relationships.
Brightman (1993, 224-6) defines sacrifice as a gift exchange instead of a commodity exchange. This model posits a
world in which the gods show great favor to mortals who offer them small gifts. The sacrificial animal also
participates in this mode of gift exchange by offering its flesh to the men and women who consume it during the
ceremonial feast. Godelier (1999, 186) posits a similar view that sacrifice is gift exchange between the gods and
man but further specifies that man is incapable of giving gifts equal to those that the gods give to man.
72 Kirk (1970, 4) sums up the problem with much of Frazer’s work when he states that “…Frazer tossed in
catalogues of vague similarities drawn from a dozen different cultures in apparent support of highly dubious
theories…”
73 On March 15, a chariot race was held in the Field of Mars. The right-hand horse of the victorious team was then
sacrificed to Mars. This was done as a way to insure the fertility of crops and livestock. Frazer sees this horse as an
embodiment of his corn-spirit.
74 Frazer 1922, 486-95.
18

part of the plot of a myth that it was originally an incarnation of the god or that since Athena is
clad in a goatskin and a goat is sacrificed to her once a year that she was once a sacred goat.
Lastly, while many of the gods dealt with in this study do have quite ancient roots, the
blending of animal and human form in the iconography of a god does not always indicate early
imagery or cult practice. For example, gods such as Aesculapius and Charu do not become
prominent in Italy until the Classical and Hellenistic periods, which can hardly be considered
“primitive.” Aesculapius’ entry into Rome is recorded by Ovid in his Metamorphoses, and in
this text, the god journeys to Rome in the form of a sacred snake who chooses the location of his
shrine on the Tiber Island. In the case of Charu, he, like the other Etruscan “death-demons,”
does not appear until Etruscan culture experiences a depression in the Classical Period, and
snake imagery is a key part of his iconography. 75 The use of animals and the blending of human
and animal bodies to express the nature of the divinity remained a popular and poignant form of
artistic expression for some time.
As mentioned earlier, one approach to the study of myth which is useful for examining
therianthropic deities is that proposed by Jung. The “collective unconscious” and the use of
archetypes has been applied to bull deities by M. Rice in his text, The Power of the Bull. 76 Rice
claims that
The tendency to represent gods in animal form… is common to all mankind, at all
periods of human history. It offers, in itself, most convincing proof of the
accuracy of the vision of the collective unconscious, the inheritance of all men
and of the archetypes which well up out of the unconscious and the common
neuro-physiological and neuro-psychological mechanisms of which they are a
part. 77
I agree with Rice that the use of animals to symbolize the divine is common to many cultures,
but I do not think that we need fully accept Jung’s biodeterministic propositions. Man’s basic
curiosity, facility of observation, and need to find meaning are reasons enough for the creation of
these gods. Because animals appear to demonstrate various traits that man finds admirable or
reprehensible, he is going to see in an animal a representation of himself or a god. Man’s
closeness to animals in antiquity was greater than ours is now, and thus animals offered a
75 Hostetler (2003) makes much of this in her thesis.
76 Whether or not one agrees with his Jungian approach, Rice does compile a great deal of information concerning
bull worship. Rice (1998, 8) also claims to discuss bull cults which span from “south-Western Europe to the borders
of India” but his work falls short of dealing with Italy.
77 Rice 1998, 10.
19

metaphor that could be used by man to explain himself. The collective unconscious may lead
man to seek out powers greater than himself and to create gods, but I do not wholly agree with
the creation of universal archetypes since the meaning of symbols varies from place to place or
changes over time in the same location.
Rice appropriates Jung’s theory of archetypes and goes on to state that “The archetypes
are, at one level, the source of the multitude of gods and goddesses which humans have invented,
either to provide comfort or to effect control.” 78 Archetypes are useful but can be somewhat
problematic when followed too strictly. Similarity in symbols and ideas can be noted without the
creation of as complex a system as universal and inherited archetypes, and one is also forced to
determine how far the recognition of basic human concerns takes us for the study of
mythology. 79 A second point to consider when dealing with archetypes and animal symbolism is
that an animal might be used to symbolize a deity or demon, but surely not every ancient culture
will see all of the same qualities in the particular animal. These vary according to what is
important to each society and the way that the animal interacts with the environment. When
discussing the Minotaur, Rice attempts to refute Jung’s interpretation of the Minotaur as the
attempt of the Greeks to overcome man’s animal nature. 80 Instead, Rice sees the Minotaur as the
embodiment of Jung’s “Shadow” 81 and an expression of man’s animal nature, an issue that still
plagues modern scholars. One can see man coming to grips with his animal side in works such
as Midgley’s Beast and Man: The Roots of Human Nature. 82 We can only approximate the
meaning that the Greeks, Etruscans, or Romans would have attached to a particular symbol,
though, and we must be careful not to superimpose a modern viewpoint over the views of the
ancients.
In the pursuit of making sense of animal symbolism, Lévi-Strauss’s structural approach
to myth also must be dealt with for it has influenced scholars such as W. Burkert and G.S. Kirk.
Kirk sums up Lévi-Strauss’ position nicely.
78 Rice 1998, 34.
79 Kirk 1974, 78.
80 Rice 1998, 262.
81 Segal (1998, 79) presents a collection of Jung’s work dealing with mythology in which the Shadow archetype is
defined by Jung as the “dangerous aspect of the unrecognized dark half of the personality.”
82 There are also a great many cultures in which the differentiation between man and beast is not as clearly defined
as one might assume. Cultures that possess shamanistic beliefs in which animals are thought of as having their own
form of consciousness and perceptions are less likely to draw a firm line between man and animal. De Castro (1998,
469-88) demonstrates this concept of “perspectivism.”
20

Claude Lévi-Strauss’s theory entails that all myths are speculative, or problemreflecting,
when properly understood. Proper understanding requires
concentration on an underlying structure of relationships, rather than on their
overt content or any narrowly allegorical interpretation. 83
Kirk suggests that Lévi-Strauss attempts to create a universal interpretation of myth,
which is the greatest flaw of his theory. 84 Even if “structuralism” fails to account for the
interpretation of all myths, I do believe that we can profit from Lévi-Strauss’ scholarship in
several ways. The first is his notion that myths help to mitigate contradictions. In the case of
theriomorphic and therianthropic deities, we may observe a dualistic system symbolized by the
mingling of human and animal forms and in the often contradictory and opposite facets of their
nature. I believe that the iconography of such gods lends itself to the process of mediation
between opposites using a visual method much in the way mythology accomplishes this effect
through narrative. This leads to the second idea that can help us, that animals are “good to
think;” Lévi-Strauss makes this deduction based on the notion that the choice of animals as
symbol is based on empirical data that is then related to man’s attempt to express ideas and
relationships. 85 I believe the iconography used in the representation of theriomorphic and
therianthropic gods demonstrates this theory.
Following the notion that animals are good to think with, the process of myth-making
should not be separated from the creation of iconography. Images and textual narratives are both
critical in understanding the complex nature of ancient deities. Greco-Roman mythology is
somewhat unusual due to its highly literary nature; 86 yet we have little preserved writing which
features theriomorphic and therianthropic deities. Even so it remains important to examine the
impact that scholarly opinions concerning “originality” in myth have had on the reception of
Etruscan and Roman mythology because the same biases which dominate the study of literature
are also present in the study of iconography and visual narratives. Feeney sums up the largest
problem facing the scholar of Etruscan and Roman myth in Literature and Religion At Rome:
Cultures, Contexts, and Beliefs.
“…in myth more than any other cultural sphere the primacy and energy of the
Greeks' activity appears automatically to weaken any Roman counterpart. 'Myth'
simply is 'Greek myth', not only to contemporary classicists but to the first
83 Kirk 1970, 7.
84 Kirk 1970, 7.
85 Lévi-Strauss 1962, 89.
86 Kirk 1974, 112.
21

students of comparative religion in the early nineteenth century and for at least a
century afterwards. Myth at Rome is consequently often seen as derivative and
parasitic, a borrowing from a more creative foreign culture in order to make up
for something naturally missing: 'The Greeks were far more advanced and
original than the Romans, supplying them from very early times with many of the
myths and ideas about their own gods.'” 87
For countless years, this has been the typical viewpoint of many scholars. It is only within the
last three decades, that the Romans, and also the Etruscans, have been credited with a
mythological prerogative. 88
It is not difficult to see how such an attitude could develop. The study of Etruscan and
Roman culture has long labored under the shadow of Greek influence. In the field of art history,
scholars such as Johann Winckelmann in 1764 in his Geschichte der Kunst des Alterthums
referred to Roman art as a pale copy of Greek art. This attitude has plagued the study of Roman
art up to the present day and is in no small part due to the fact that the Romans were indeed
enamored with Greek culture. One is reminded of Horace’s verse, “Captive Greece captured her
fierce captor and brought the arts into uncultured Latium.” 89
In a similar manner to the preference given to Greek myth over Etruscan and Roman
myth, there is preference given to literary sources over archaeological ones. A perfect example
of this problem is, as I noted earlier, that Smelik and Hemelrijk’s study was completely devoid of
archaeological evidence. There is not a simple relationship between art and text, i.e. one does
not necessarily represent or copy the other. We must view these two different types of evidence
on their own merits and recognize that variations will exist, for a myth or cycle of myths did not
simply take one form. One scholar who has made great strides in analyzing the relationship
between myth and text is J.P. Small. Her text, The Parallel Worlds of Classical Art and Text,
hints at this dichotomy by implying in its title that art and text need not “intersect.” She even
treats changes in the iconography of human and animal hybrids and its relation to the myth-
making process when she states
That the Sirens are not always the same in form is less bothersome than the
number, since not only does each generation need up-to-date translations of
87 Feeney 1998, 47. Here Feeney quotes Ogilvie 1981, 4.
88 Oleson (1975, 189-91) presents a cogent appraisal of the relationship between Greek and Etruscan mythology.
89 Hor. Epist. II.1.156-7. Latin Text taken from Horace Satires, Epistles, Ars Poetica, Loeb Classical Library,
edited by G.P. Goold , Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999, p. 408. (Translation by Author.)
Graecia capta ferum victorem cepit et artes / intulit agresti Latio.
22

literary works, but also each generation often requires up-to-date renderings,
especially of monsters, who change in conception over time. 90
We can apply the idea of “up-to-date renderings” to the corpus of the theriomorphic and
therianthropic deities and demons. Images and the conception of the divine were not static in
antiquity, and, as we shall see in this study, there was room for striking change. There may not
always be a canonical version of a narrative or image of a god.
A further problem to deal with is the afore-mentioned lack of Etruscan literature. Since
no preserved Etruscan texts offer a mythic narrative for us to follow, we must turn to the visual
sources as our only source for identifying the plot of a myth. This is not always possible with the
remains we possess. As de Grummond states in her recent text, Etruscan Myth, Sacred History
and Legend:
Still, much remains unknown; stories told in representations in art often assume
that the viewer already knows the story, and without a written narrative taking
place in time it is difficult to reconstruct the sequence of an action. 91
Etruscan divinities may be overlooked in general studies of religion and myth since they
seem to be perceived as minor figures compared to the greater, Olympian gods. The
reduplication of figures such as Charu and Pan is one reason for treating theriomorphic and
therianthropic deities and demons as possessing a lesser divine status. The abundance of human-
animal hybrids and other “monsters” that appear in classical myth may have also affected the
way that scholars view these figures. For example, Pan often seems to be treated as a glorified
satyr, and his importance as a rustic divinity is often forgotten. Perhaps, this was even the case
in antiquity since Pan accused the Athenians of ignoring him during the Persian War. 92 Another
factor to consider alongside the conception of their “divine status” is the amount of material that
preserves the memory of these gods and goddesses. When discussing different types of gods
worshipped by the Romans, Beard, North, and Price state that, “Some deities had no closely
defined personality and remained outside the traditions of myth and legend. Although, to us,
they may seem more ‘shadowy’ for that reason, they were not necessarily less important in
Roman times.” 93 Some theriomorphic and therianthropic deities fall in this category; in short
90 Small 2003, 29.
91 De Grummond 2006a, 11.
92 Hdt. 6.105.1.
93 Beard, North, Price 1998, 30.
23

there is not a wealth of literary narrative or archaeological evidence from which to draw
information for each of the gods treated in this dissertation.
The idea that there could be different types of divine figures is one that is perhaps odd to
a modern audience not acquainted with the study of ancient religions. In the Mediterranean
world, though, there were a great many divine beings and not all of them are easily classified.
This is the reason for the qualification in my title “deities and demons,” as the figures discussed
in this dissertation do not all possess the same characteristics. For example, do they receive cult?
Are they prominent in both the Greek and Roman world? In this context, I use the word
“demon” in a broad way as well, to denote the function of a mythological character and not
necessarily a creature with a malevolent nature.
This dissertation addresses a wide chronological span beginning with evidence for the
earliest Etruscan and Roman rituals (roughly 800 BCE) and stretching into the high empire (2 nd
C CE). The reason for such a wide chronological range is that later material may preserve traces
of earlier religious practices that did not otherwise survive. 94 This dissertation also addresses the
breadth of the Italian peninsula even though there are a number of distinct tribes that developed
there. The Romans, Etruscans, Sabines, Samnites and other tribes possessed a “shared body of
Italian experience and religious practice” 95 and thus must be treated together. Some gods, such
as Apollo Soranus, Etruscan uri, and Juno Sospita qualify as Pan-Italic in the same way that
Zeus was a Panhellenic deity. These cultures influence each other in a dynamic way, trading
ideas as well as objects, amongst themselves. This study presents a modern survey of the
therianthropic gods of Italy organized according to the animals they represent. The gods
discussed in this study were chosen because of their significance in the art, religion, and myths of
Italy and are organized as follows.
The serpent (Chapter Two), which was one of the most widely diffused cultic symbols, 96
is represented in Italy by the imported god Aesculapius, 97 the Etruscan “death demon” Charu(n),
94
Bevan (1986, 12) uses similar logic in her study Representations of Animals in Sanctuaries of Artemis and Other
Olympian Deities.
95
De Grummond (2006a, xii) makes this statement in reference to the Etruscans and Romans, but I suggest that it is
possible to extend this idea to include other Italic tribes as well.
96
Mundkur 1983, 41. While I do not agree with all of Mundkur’s theories, he is certainly right that the serpent
enjoyed considerable standing (albeit holding different meanings) in a great many cultures around the world.
97
The importation of the god Aesculapius into Italy is substantially different from the import of other foreign gods.
Aesculapius is brought from Epidaurus to Rome at the behest of the Roman Senate. As we shall see in Chapter
Two, his entry into Rome was sanctioned by a prophecy taken from the Sibylline books. He, like the Magna Mater,
was “naturalized” by the Romans in a way which other therianthropic deities in the ancient world were not. A
24

and the Genius or Genius Loci. In the case of Aesculapius, we are presented with a god depicted
in art most often as a man accompanied by a serpent, 98 but in literature he often takes the form of
a sacred snake. The most notable example of an ophidian Aesculapius appears in his arrival in
Rome, described by Ovid (Metamorphoses, XV) and Livy (Perioichai, XI). I have chosen Charu
as an example of Etruscan death demons, who regularly possess ophidian characteristics. One
demon, who appears in the Tomb of the Reliefs with what may be snakes’ tails for legs, has been
interpreted in the past as Charu(n). The relationship between this figure and other anguipeds in
Etruria will be examined. Charu(n) and other demons are sometimes shown with snake-skin
patterns on their wings, and it may be that the blue-green color of the demons’ skin is meant to
represent the effects of poisonous snake bites. 99 My last representative of the serpent, the Genius
or Genius Loci, formed a key component of Roman domestic religion. The importance of snake
symbolism to the private worship of the Romans is a point that deserves great emphasis.
The wolf (Chapter Three) is represented by Aita, Apollo Soranus, Faunus, and Silvanus.
Aita is depicted on a number of artifacts that show him with a common iconography. He is
shown as a mature, regal, bearded male who wears a wolf-skin cap. Aita’s wolf-skin cap is
linked to his chthonic nature as is indicated by connections to another infernal Etruscan deity,
Calu. The word Calustla appears inscribed on a figurine that takes the shape of a wolf-hound.
Apollo Soranus is a second god associated with the wearing of a wolf’s skin, but this time it is
the priests of the god who wear the wolf pelt. The priests seem to do this in imitation of their
god’s form as a key part of their worship. Again, the wolf indicates a chthonic nature, and
Apollo Soranus is known from other evidence to be an underworld deity. Faunus, who in the
past has mainly been associated with goats, also seems to have a lupine nature, and I believe that
I have isolated a mythic narrative that may be compared to visual representations of an Etruscan
wolf-god to prove this. Faunus’ lupine nature may also be tied to his syncretism with the Roman
god Silvanus and the Celtic god Sucellus. These gods are part of a complex of mingled identities
and religious syncretism.
second possible exception is the god Anubis, who is discussed in Chapter Three, but he does not appear to have
attained the same degree of acceptance as Aesculapius, and the jackal-headed deity served as a subsidiary god in the
worship of Isis.
98
Aesculapius is also accompanied by the rooster and dog, although these animals do not have the same degree of
significance in his cult.
99
Hostetler’s innovative theory can be found at Hostetler (2002, 11 December, http://www.open.ac.uk/Arts/classtud
/etruscans-now/papers/hostetler.htm).
25

Faunus and Silvanus are also associated with the goat (Chapter Four) beginning with
their syncretic connections to the Greek goat god Pan. In this chapter, the relationship between
Faunus, Silvanus, and Pan is further problematized since images of Faunus and Silvanus do not
often take the form of a goat-man hybrid in art even though Faunus is portrayed as such in
literature. Goat iconography continues with the goddess Juno, who was worshipped as Juno
Sospita or Juno Caprotina. In the past, this aspect of Juno was separated from the womanly
spheres of marriage and childbirth even though she was associated with an oracular shrine
inhabited by a snake that tested the chastity of young maidens. I would argue that being a civic
goddess and the protectress of a city does not rule out the possibility of being associated with
marriage, childbirth, and fertility.
The bull (Chapter Five), an exceedingly significant animal in ancient religion, is
represented by the god Achelous. Achelous is a typical river god and therefore a shape changer.
He is often depicted as having a fish’s tail and a bull’s horns, but this is not the only hybrid form
he takes. He can also appear as a bull with a man’s head, and the man-bull present in the Tomb
of the Bulls in Tarquinia may well represent Achelous or another river god like him. Numerous
akroteria from Etruscan temples are also decorated with images of a man’s head that sprouts
bull’s horns. The identification of these figures as Achelous is called into question by the Greek
Dionysos’ association with bulls. Dionysos was much more than a god of wine and theater and
was the god of coursing liquids and the raw, pulsing life present in the blood of men and animals.
He is often referred to as the horned god in literature but, like Aesculapius, it is difficult to find
secure theriomorphic or therianthropic representations of this god in art. It is also not clear if
there was ever a “standard” iconographic type for Dionysos Tauromorphos; was he a bull-man or
a man-bull? This problem is particularly evident in an Italian context in which Dionysos is often
linked to the Etruscan god Fufluns and the Latin god Liber, who may or may not share in the
taurine associations of their Greek counterpart. In the discussion of the uncertainty of
identifying certain images of man-bull hybrids, the myth of the Minotaur and its use in Etruria is
also discussed.
The final chapter dedicated to an animal type focuses on birds (Chapter Six). Birds were
an important part of both Etruscan and Roman religion as can be seen from the prominence of
the practice of augury in these cultures. This chapter focuses on a number of problematic deities
about whom we possess little secure information. The first of these is the god Picus, a figure
26

who appears in myth as a man transformed into a woodpecker by the witch, Circe. He ascends to
immortality and becomes a rustic deity who accompanies Faunus in some stories. The
significance of this god to the people known as the Picentes has been used to suggest that early
Italians practiced totemism, and this idea is examined in Chapter Six. There are several
examples of a winged figure shown wearing a swan-headed cap. The identity of this figure is
unknown even though several possible identifications have been suggested. Yet another
example of a bird god with an uncertain identification is the bird-headed figure that decorates an
antefix from the sanctuary at Pyrgi; this object is discussed in terms of its possible connections to
Greek and Near Eastern mythology. This chapter also returns to the Etruscan conception of the
Underworld in order to examine the demon Tuchulcha and an unnamed demon that possesses the
head of a bird of prey.
The title of this dissertation embraces a somewhat broad scope by necessity. As
mentioned earlier, a wide variety of divine figures is included in this study. These figures are not
always easily classifiable, and thus I have settled on the term “demon” as a descriptor for those
whose do not receive cult. This term is not meant in a pejorative sense, as it may be used today,
but is instead closer to the idea of a daemon or, perhaps, a genie. The last note I would like to
add concerns the contents of each chapter. While theriomorphic and therianthropic divinities
each share similar characteristics, the amount and type of evidence that preserves the memory of
these figures is quite varied. Thus each chapter’s length and content are somewhat different.
Ultimately, I hope to prove that we can no longer gloss over the importance of theriomorphic and
therianthropic imagery in Etruscan and Roman religion. Each of the deities and demons
discussed in this chapter held an important place in the religion and/or myth of the Etruscans and
Romans. They were not minor figures or simple curiosities for modern scholars to puzzle over.
It is my intention that this study add another layer to our understanding of Etruscan and Roman
culture by examining what I believe to be some of the most interesting archaeological and
literary remains they have left behind for us.
27

CHAPTER 2: THE SERPENT
The serpent has always stood for two diametrically opposed ideas, namely as the
foe of mankind and the symbol of evil on the one hand, and as man’s protector
and saviour in disease and distress on the other. 100
Serpent imagery is common in the myths and folk tales of cultures around the world.
Apep, the great night-serpent, harried the solar god Ra during his journey through the
underworld from the sun’s setting in the west to its rising in the east. 101 The Norsemen believed
that the god Thor would one day die in battle with the world-serpent Jormungand. 102 The Greek
god Apollo acquired his most famous and prestigious oracle, Delphi, by slaying the great Python
who originally inhabited the site. The Babylonian god Marduk was forced to fight the primeval
goddess, Tiamat, who could take the form of a serpent, in order to re-establish order in the
universe. 103 Thus, the serpent, often in monstrous and/or draconic form, played the roles of the
“other” and enemy to both gods and heroes. In a classical context, this seems to be the role of
the serpent in mythic narrative, but the cultic associations of this animal were not solely
negative. In fact, snakes were more often healers or benevolent guardians of hearth and home 104
and represented the procreative power of man and the gods. Rumors of gods taking the form of
serpents in order to impregnate women were associated with Augustus’ mother, Atia, 105 and
Alexander the Great’s mother, Olympias. 106 Thus, a wide array of meanings is attached to the
symbol of the serpent.
I shall begin with hybrids associated with the more fearsome aspects of snakes before
moving to benevolent serpent deities that offered boons to mankind. The most prominent
classical expression of ophidian imagery as a danger to the order of the cosmos can be found in
100
Schouten 1967, 1.
101
Spence 1990, 131.
102
Sturluson 1954, 88.
103
Dalley 2000, 251-3.
104
Bevan (1986, 261) states that the snake served as a guardian for both mortal and divine property. This assertion
is born out by the roles of the deities discussed in this chapter.
105
Suet. Aug. 94. In this passage, Suetonius records the story that Atia conceived Augustus by Apollo disguised in
serpent form.
106
Plut. Vit. Alex. II.9. Plutarch records that Philip found Olympias in bed with a snake after participating in the
rites of Sabazius and that this incident may have alienated Philip from her company. See also Turcan 1999, 291.
28

the stories of the Giants and their even more monstrous brother Typhon, 107 a creature associated
with the primal, destructive powers of fire, wind, and water. 108
When the gods had conquered the giants, Ge exceedingly enraged came together
with Tartarus in Cilicia, and bore Typhon, having a nature blending man and
animal. He was greater in size and strength than all the other children of Ge. To
the ends of his thighs, he took the shape of a man of immense magnitude, such
that he exceeded all of the mountains, and his head often touched the stars. One
hand stretched to the east and the other the west, and from them sprang one
hundred dragon heads. Down from his thighs he had huge coils of serpents,
which, stretched out, reached his head and emitted a loud hissing. His body was
winged, rough hair streamed from his head and cheeks, and fire shone in his
eyes. 109
Typhon appears in Greek literature as early as Homer, 110 but his description is by no
means fixed in the way that Apollodorus describes him. 111 Hesiod, for example, provides him
with human legs and feet and only refers to a hissing sound when he speaks. 112 In Apollodorus’
account of this monster’s birth, Typhon was the son of Gaia and Tartaros and was Zeus’ greatest
adversary, an embodiment of Gaia’s outrage and desire for vengeance after the outcome of the
Gigantomachy. The earliest classical representations of this monster, which can be found on
terracotta alabastra, are from Corinth and date to the seventh century BCE (Fig. II.1). 113 A large
Early Corinthian alabastron is nearly covered by the figure of Typhon, whose serpentine form
wraps around the vessel. (Empty spaces are filled with the rosettes typical of this period of
107
In contrast to Typhon, who serves as my primary example of a threatening serpent hybrid, one might consider a
positive, Greek example, the Athenian king Erichthonius, who was also born with serpents’ tails in the place of
human legs. According to Lada-Richards (1998, 73), Erichthonius “despite his highly abnormal birth, is not a
monster like the gêgeneis Giants, but a culture-hero, a hero-founder of many rituals and institutions...” Cecrops
conforms to a similar pattern as well.
108
Matheson (2004, 349) notes Typhon’s association with wind and fire, but Vian (1960, 23) also suggests that he
may be associated with “hydrological” phenomena.
109
Apollod. Bibl. 1.6.3. Greek Text taken from Apollodorus The Library, Loeb Classical Library, Vol. 1, edited by
G.P. Goold, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999, p. 46. (Translation by Author.)
;H( IC 4 ' - J 4 " 7 J5 6 && ? &" D , 4 K 7 L
M C N & ,O 7 ' *? M A .( ' , # F ( ) 4
4 " @ P ( C ' J57 Q ) 1 ) < ? ' < & ( A M 7
R E ? ) 4 " + 7 S ) M &3 &&4 ( < " *T 9? D ( )
2? 3 ) C 3 U C ' 3 ) C ( A &4 (9C " ) C D? U .
M & " # ) A . ' , ( 2? E ( C? 7 V W& .( 3
C M 3 . &> C , # 6 ) . " 7 ? ' ) C
M &5( " ,? ( C ' " 7 ) C D( X #
110
Hom. Il. 2.783-4.
111
Apollod. Bibl. 1.6.3.
112
Hes. Theog. 820-1
113
Matheson 2004, 349. Vian (1960, 25-6) notes that the Greeks likely borrowed anguiform iconography from
Babylonian art and cites cylinder seals depicting “serpent gods” as one possible source for the image of Typhon.
29

Corinthian vase painting.) In this example, Typhon is bearded and winged, and possesses a
singular, long snake tail as a substitute for his legs. His arms indicate that he is in motion since
they resemble arms of other Archaic figures who are shown running. Near the end of Typhon’s
tail, there is a large, black dolphin, which suggests a marine setting for this scene. The
convention of using wings and serpents’ tails as a way to represent Typhon is also used as a way
to depict the giants whose battle against Zeus and the gods occurs before Typhon’s assault.
One figure typically not discussed in the context of the Gigantomachy is “Bluebeard,” the
triple-bodied anguiped which decorated the pediment of the Archaic “Hekatompedon” built on
the acropolis of Athens ca. 560 BCE (Fig. II.2). The identity of “Bluebeard” is far from secure
although a number of possibilities have been offered. J. Hurwitt summarizes these theories,
which include Typhon, Geryon, a composite of Okeanos, Pontus, and Aither, or “a benign
allegory of Attic political union.” 114 Hurwitt further notes that “Bluebeard” belongs to an
Athenian tradition of snake-legged figures such as Kekrops and Erichthonius. 115 This
unidentified figure is not present in the secure context of a Gigantomachy, but given the
prominence of its location in the city of Athens, it may have influenced the conception of giants
and other anguipeds in antiquity. Nevertheless, we must look elsewhere for the inspiration of the
motifs and iconography of this epic battle.
The most famous example of anguiped giants is the Great Altar of Pergamon (Fig. II.3),
often cited as the source for depictions of snake-legged giants in Etruria. 116 De Grummond has
demonstrated that this is not the case, and that, even though the earliest representations of a
single anguiped can be found on the Corinthian alabastra, the motifs common to depictions of the
114 Hurwitt 1999, 108-9.
115 Hurwitt (1999, 109) mentions that Kekrops appeared on the west pediment of the classical Parthenon; however,
he was depicted with human legs and accompanied by a serpent, “a reminiscence of his chthonic origins.” Hurwitt
also notes that Pausanias interpreted the snake present next to the statue of Athena Parthenos as Erichthonius.
116 For the theory of the Great Altar of Pergamon as inspiration for the decoration in the Tomb of the Typhon see
Pallottino 1952, 128. Even though it can no longer be considered as the source for the image of the anguiped giant
in Italy, the Great Altar of Pergamon retains pride of place in any discussion of serpent hybrids. Many of the giants,
who do battle with the gods, possess serpentine legs and are winged as a way of emphasizing their chthonic origins,
and one can clearly see this feature on the giant at the far right of Fig. II.3. In addition to the serpent-legged giants,
the gods also fight lion, bull, and bird hybrids, which Hansen interprets as the reflection of Greek interest in Hittite
and Assyrian art. Hansen (1971, 322) further identifies one of the giants as Typhon. “Next to her [Adrasteia] a
nude bearded god, recognizable as a Cabir by the hammer which he swings in both hands behind his back, attacks
Typhon, a huge giant, half as large again as the other figures, with serpent legs, and the neck, ears, horns, and tail of
a bull.” Hansen (1971, 320) also suggests that the Gigantomachy, as a whole, is an allegory for the contemporary
struggles against the enemies of the Attalids. For a concise account of the many questions still remain concerning
this magnificent structure (dedicator, dedicatee, specific function, and date are as yet uncertain) see Stewart 2000,
39-41.
30

Gigantomachy appear to have developed in Etruria. 117 An Etruscan black-figure hydria
attributed to the Micali Painter (ca. 525-500 BCE) provides one such example (Fig. II.4). 118 The
decoration of the upper register of Fig. II.4 contains an image of two armored youths attacking a
giant. This monstrous foe is depicted as having a head with three-faces, 119 wings sprouting from
his back, and two serpentine legs which each split, ending in a total of four serpent heads. He
also lifts a large stone above his head with which he surely intends to crush the youths. The
youths are shown wielding spears and shields and wearing a cuirass and greaves. They do not
possess helmets but, nevertheless, they resemble hoplites. De Grummond cites this black-figure
vessel as the earliest known general Gigantomachy and chooses not to identify this figure as
Typhon since the image does not fit with a myth of Zeus’ battle against his most terrifying foe. 120
This vessel is representative of a strong tradition of snake-legged creatures in Etruria, a logical
occurrence when one considers that the locus for the battle of the gods and giants was most
commonly set in nearby Campania, and the final resting place of Typhon was below Mt. Aetna
in Sicily. 121
The Tomb of the Typhon in Tarquinia also contains a splendid example of the
iconographic convention of using serpents as a substitute for legs (Fig. II.5). 122 This tomb
possesses rich painted decoration including the appearance of two winged anguipeds on the
pillars that support the tomb’s ceiling. 123 These figures are likely meant to be giants, not
reduplicated figures of Typhon as the name of the tomb seems to indicate. These serpent-legged
giants are accompanied by a single goddess from whose waist vine tendrils sprout as
replacements for legs, a Rankenfrau, whom I have identified elsewhere as Cel Ati, the Etruscan
Mother Earth. 124 Both giants and Rankenfrau seem to function as Telamones, humanoid figures
117 A further variation on the theme of the gigantomachy appears on a Praenestine cista that depicts giants with fish
tails for legs.
118 De Grummond 2000a, 259.
119 One must wonder if the triple-bodied creature from the pediment of the “Hekatompedon” is not somehow linked
to this triple-headed figure.
120 De Grummond 2000a, 259. In contrast, Spivey (1987, 15) refers to the giant as a Typhon-figure.
121 Vian 1988, 191-2. For all of Typhon’s geographic associations, see Vian 1960, 19-23.
122 De Grummond (2000a, 259-61) shows that the depiction of the anguiped giants in the Tomb of the Typhon could
not have been influenced by the Great Altar of Pergamon.
123 These figures closely resemble the giants of the Great Altar but are earlier in date, as demonstrated by Colonna
(1983, 1).
124 Rupp Forthcoming 2007. The presence of a single Rankenfrau indicates to me that the reduplication of the
anguiped figures implies that they are not a single personality such as Typhon and are instead representative of a
group of divinities. On the Great Altar of Zeus, for example, Gaia, as the lone female figure against the gods, rises
from the earth amongst many giants. Massa Pairault (1992, 195) labels this figure a Nike.
31

used as decorative support elements, and are fitting as decorations in a tomb due to their
chthonic nature. 125 The giants’ facial features, filled with pathos, make one wonder if the artist
envisioned their support of the tomb’s ceiling and the earth above them as a punishment for their
rebellion against the gods.
The integration of the serpent with the denizens of the underworld can also be seen in the
“death demons” that populate images of the Etruscan afterlife. At the end of the classical period,
the Etruscan conception of the underworld admitted a host of terrifying demons into its
landscape. 126 These demons are fearsome creatures who possess animalistic features, blue-green
flesh and an assortment of armaments. Hostetler suggests that the coloration of the demons’ skin
may represent the results of a viperid bite and that the diamond, zigzag pattern present on many
of the demons’ wings is meant to represent the same markings on the Vipera berus berus, the
indigenous, poisonous snake of Etruria. 127 The demons are not often labeled or named, but two
notable exceptions to this rule exist, Tuchulcha and Charu(n). More will be said of Tuchulcha’s
appearance in Chapter VI in a discussion of bird demons, but it is interesting to note that
Tuchulcha’s wings bear the same markings as the viper he holds. There can be no doubt that
demon and serpent are inextricably linked. 128 Charu(n) takes a different form but, like
Tuchulcha, is closely linked to the serpent.
One example of Charu(n)’s iconography appears in the entryway to the Hellenistic tomb
owned by the Anina family (Fig. II.6). In this instance, the doorway of the tomb is flanked by
the two most common Etruscan death demons, Charu(n) and Vanth, who are here identified by
inscriptions. A winged Charu(n) with shaggy hair and beard is shown in typical fashion wearing
a short, red tunic along with hunting boots and holding a hammer. 129 Vanth is also shown in a
typical fashion - winged, carrying a torch, and wearing a pale and red garment which leaves her
breasts bare. 130 These two figures stand watch over the doorway through which the family
would have entered the tomb, and it is possible that the door represents both the entrance to the
125
Cristofani (1969, 223-4) refers to the giants as Telamones and the Rankenfrau as a Caryatid and notes that the
“decorative” function of the giants has a long history in Etruria. He also suggests that the identification of the figure
as Typhon is “probable.”
126
Krauskopf (2006, 73) notes that the Tomb of the Blue Demons is the earliest example of the appearance of such
creatures.
127
Hostetler 2003, 52-3, 56.
128
Hostetler 2003, 52.
129
Charu(n)’s iconography does vary from image to image, but this example can be taken as representative of his
general characteristics.
130 Steingraber 1985, 282.
32

tomb and also the underworld. A second Charu(n) and Vanth, this time much smaller, appear on
the left wall of the tomb amongst a number of inscriptions that record, among other things, the
names of three members of the Anina family (Arnth, Vel, and Larth) buried in the tomb. 131
Charu(n) most often wields a hammer or mallet but sometimes brandishes snakes as
weapons. 132 The Tomb of the Charu(n)s, is representative of the iconographic variation of this
demon since it contains several Charu(n)’s flanking two of the false doors in this tomb. The
Tomb of the Charu(n)s is also unique in that the representations of Charu(n) present here are
differentiated by epithets. 133 In Fig. II.7, the Charu(n) wielding a hammer and standing on the
left hand side of the false door, possibly meant to again stand for the entrance to the underworld,
wears a winged hat and is labeled with the inscription ?arun ?un?ules. 134 The Charu(n) on the
right side of the door exhibits the black and blue, “splotchy” skin that Hostetler claims represents
the effects of a snake bite, 135 and also holds a hammer. He is labeled ?arun huths. 136 It is not
clear what these epithets mean.
Charu(n)’s flesh is nearly always tinctured with the blue-green color of putrefaction, and
he is often winged. 137 However, the iconography of Etruscan death demons admits some
variation, and the painted stucco decoration of the Tomb of the Reliefs, brings us back to the
iconography of the giants in the Tomb of the Typhon. In the Tomb of the Reliefs, located in the
Banditaccia Necropolis, Cerveteri, two monstrous creatures are depicted amongst the myriad
items from daily life (Fig. II.8). Below the stucco-modeled funeral couch of the back wall’s
central niche are two figures of the underworld: on the left is a shaggy-haired, possibly
anguiped demon 138 wearing a tunic and wielding an oar in his right hand and a snake in the other
and, on the right, Kerberos, the three-headed, canine guardian of Hades’ gates, appears. Some
scholars have suggested that the two “portrait” heads that flank this niche may be Aita and
131
Steingraber 1985, 282.
132
De Grummond (2006a, 215) notes that Charu(n) may wield a sword or axe as well.
133
De Simone (1997, 203) confirms that this is the only example of a binary name applied to Charu(n). Steingraber
(1985, 300) notes that only 5 other inscriptions bearing the name Charu exist.
134
Rix 1991, Ta. 7.80.
135
Hostetler
136
Rix 1991, Ta. 7.81.
137
De Ruyt (1934, 237-41) suggests an oriental, possibly Babylonian origin for the iconography of Charu(n) and
Tuchulcha due to the combination of human and bestial elements as well as Charu(n)’s characteristic mallet.
138
Haynes (2000, 318) suggests that the demon holding the oar actually possess fishtails for legs instead of snake
tales.
33

Phersipnai, but these heads are badly damaged, so a secure identification is not possible. 139 Of
the two infernal creatures depicted below the funeral couch, only the identity of Kerberos is
secure. The demon holding the oar wears the typical dress of Charu(n) and is bearded; on the
other hand, an oar has replaced Charu(n)’s usual mallet, and snake-like tails spring from this
figure’s waist. 140 This figure has been identified as Charu(n) but also Skylla. 141 This may indeed
be an anguiped Charu(n) since the oar may refer to the journey one makes to the afterlife. Even
so, the oar should not necessarily be taken as a direct reference to the Greek ferryman of the
dead, Charon, since there is little similarity between Charon and Charu(n) and the dead may
proceed to their final rest over both land and water. 142
Due to the absence of Etruscan literature, we possess no narratives that feature Charu(n),
nor are there dedications that indicate that he received cult. 143 Charu(n) is also rarely the sole
subject of an art object, and is more generally a subsidiary figure, either added to known
narratives such as the sacrifice of Trojan prisoners by Achilles or to generic scenes of the
departure of the deceased to the underworld. Charu(n) is also often multiplied and may refer to a
type of demon as opposed to an individual. 144 These factors result in a difficultly in defining
Charu(n)’s “personality.” 145 The actions of this demon in art further confuse the issue, as
sometimes he casually leans on his hammer as if to converse with other figures around him, 146 or
he raises his hammer in a menacing fashion. These conflicting views are reflected in scholarship
dealing with this demon. For example, E. Richardson states, “Sinister though he may look, his
139 Proietti 1986, 237.
140 Matheson (2004, 350) discusses the possibility of Typhon having two serpent tails for legs as well.
141 Mavleev and Krauskopf (1984, 234) include the Tomb of the Reliefs in the LIMC entry on Charu(n) and list the
anguiped figure as Charu(n)-Skylla. Blanck (1986, 18-9) and De Ruyt (1934, 135) refer to this figure as an
anguiped, masculine Skylla.
142 De Ruyt (1934, 229-30) links Charu(n) and Charon linguistically, but notes that this is where the resemblance
ends. A ferryman appears in the Tomb of the Blue Demons, but he does not possess the same iconographic
attributes as Charu(n). Krauskopf (2006, 67-9) notes the variations in which the dead reach the afterlife as well as
the importance of the journey in and of itself.
143 Richardson 1976, 243.
144 Jannot 1997, 141. Charu(n)’s reduplication may be similar to the presence of Faunus and many fauni; the
possibility of a group of demons sharing the same name does not rule out the presence of an individual personality
amongst them. When comparing Charu(n) and Typhon, one may note a further problem with identifying the
anguiped figures in the Tomb of the Typhon as multiple “Typhons.” In Greek myth, Typhon is always a single
figure and is not part of a larger group such as the Giants. In Etruscan art, the appearance of several demons that all
bear the label Charu(n) on the same monument indicates a different conception of identity.
145 For Charu(n) as individual or multiplicity see De Grummond 2006a, 214.
146 The appearance of a “conversational” Charu(n), which may be seen in Beazley 1947, Pl. XXXI.2, may be similar
to the euphemistic taming of hostile spirits through wordplay such as calling the Furies the Eumenides.
34

gestures are sometimes gentle and compassionate,” 147 but de Grummond indicates that Charu(n)
can strike the head of the deceased soul as is shown on the sarcophagus of the Etruscan
magistrate Laris Pulenas. 148
Even if his exact role is ambiguous, his meaning is somewhat easier to define. Charu(n)
is a creature who is part of the transition between the worlds of the living and the dead. He is
liminal, and his monstrous features may be intended to represent his “otherness” and transitional
nature in much the same way as the Gorgon. 149 A further comparison to the Gorgon may be
made in that Charu(n)’s hideous countenance may also be an apotropaic symbol meant to ward
off evil; 150 Charu(n), like the fearsome Gorgon, incorporates the serpent into his physical form.
This may help to explain Charu(n)’s confusing role as guard or enemy. Just as the Gorgon, a
monster and a threat whom Perseus defeated, becomes a protective force, so Charu(n), perhaps
meant as an incarnation of the deadly aspects of the serpent, becomes a tomb guardian. 151
Charu(n) may also be an embodiment of the fear of death, sometimes shown as threatening,
sometimes shown as friendly. 152
Thus while Charu(n)’s iconography seems to be associated with the fearsome aspects of
the serpent as a representative of the afterlife and death, his appearance in art is not so simple.
Like the snake, a creature that moves in an undulating fashion without the aid of legs, Charu(n)
is alien in coloration, form, and physique; he is humanoid, but certainly something other than
human. The snake also possesses such ambiguity and is at once a venomous predator but also a
mild and friendly household guardian 153 much as Charu(n) may menace the dead but also act as a
psychopomp, 154 protector, or a participant in conversation. Like the serpent, Charu(n) is a
147 Richardson 1976, 243.
148 De Grummond 2006a, 215.
149 Lada-Richards (1998, 68) suggests that the liminality and otherness of a mythological figure (Cheiron the centaur
serves as her example) is representative of the ability of that figure to facilitate the transition of a mortal from one
state to another while the “monstrous” character retains its own ambiguous nature.
150 Croon (1955, 13) suggests that the gorgoneion preceded a “fully-formed” Gorgon and that it was intended as a
representation of an underworld goddess meant to fulfill an apotropaic function. Croon’s interpretation of the
gorgoneion’s origins as that of a mask used in ritual dances may suggest similar uses of Charu(n) masks which have
been found in tombs.
151 Howe (1954, 212-4) proposes that the Gorgon was originally “an expression of the terror the lonely wanderer felt
in the beast-haunted night, and though solely of imaginative origin, the head was given this generalized animal-like
form.” She follows this statement with the conclusion that by creating an image of the Gorgon, one could gain
power of it and use it to one’s advantage. A further stage in conquering the fear symbolized by the Gorgon was her
decapitation by Perseus.
152 Ridgway (2000, 313) suggests that Charu(n)’s ugly appearance is a concrete representation that death is frightful.
153 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 228-9.
154 De Ruyt 1934, 224.
35

creature of the earth, and even his frequent possession of the mallet may be indicative of this.
Charu(n)’s hammer, which may menace the dead or unbar the door to allow entry into the
underworld, 155 is likely parallel to the hammer held by Athrpa, the Etruscan Atropos, represented
on the Athrpa mirror (Fig. VI.2), i.e. it is meant to denote finality and the inescapable nature of
death. 156 There is no celestial Charu(n) as opposed to a figure such as Turms (Etruscan Hermes)
who sometimes appears as Turms Aitas, the Turms of Aita (Etruscan Hades); thus Charu(n) is
strictly chthonic but not necessarily malevolent.
There are other serpent deities who are wholly beneficial to man. Apollo’s son,
Aesculapius, savior of man and patron of healers, is one such benevolent serpent divinity. 157
While he is not consistently depicted as a serpent in art or literature, cultic traditions indicate that
his worshippers believed that the god could manifest himself in the sacred snakes associated with
his temples, particularly when new sanctuaries were founded. 158 This animal was so closely
associated with Aesculapius that poets could refer to the “Epidaurian snake,” and their audience
would immediately know that they meant the god of healing, for Aesculapius was brought to
Italy from his sanctuary at Epidauros. 159 The persistence of the association of god and serpent
can be seen in the emblem of the American Medical Association, Aesculapius’ staff. 160
A brief discussion of select myths associated with Aesculapius is in order to illuminate
the nature of this god. There are several different accounts of Aesculapius’ birth, yet none of
them directly associate him with serpents. On the other hand, the stories of his origins do accord
with a god directly associated with the boundary between life and death. Servius records one
version of Aesculapius’ birth and death in his commentary on the Aeneid.
155 Jannot 2005, 65.
156 Beazley (1949, 13) and Krauskopf (1987, 47) note this connotation of the hammer in relation to Athrpa. I would
argue for a similar interpretation of Charu’s hammer. For the varied uses of Charu(n)’s hammer, see De Grummond
2006a, 215.
157 Schouten (1967, 7) notes that Aesculapius’ name is spelled many ways including Haisklapios, Aisklapios,
Aischlabios, Aiskalapios, Aisclapius, Aisculapius, and Aescolapius as well as Asklepios or Asclepius. De
Grummond (2006a, 187) notes that this god’s name was Esplace in Etruria. For consistency, I shall use Aesculapius
unless quoting another scholar’s text or a primary source.
158 Edelstein and Edelstein (1945, n. 16) state that the practice of venerating the snake as a representation of
Aesculapius indicates the persistence of theriomorphic form throughout antiquity and that Aesculapius was not
unique in being worshipped in animal form. They go so far as to suggest that all the gods were worshipped in
animal form due to myths which record the shape-changing of gods into animals. While I agree that theriomorphic
gods were venerated throughout antiquity, I am less convinced that all of the gods were worshipped in this way.
159 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 231.
160 American Medical Association, 2006. Hermes also bore a rod entwined with a serpent, the caduceus.
36

Then Diana, stirred to pity by his [Hippolytus’] chastity, recalled him to life
through Aesculapius the son of Apollo and Coronis, and he was born when his
mother’s womb was cut open. The reason for this was that when Apollo had
heard from the raven, her guardian, that she had committed adultery, he angrily
struck Coronis down with his arrows, at the very moment she was about to give
birth – moreover, he made the raven black instead of white – and, after cutting
open her womb, he thus delivered Aesculapius, who became an expert in
medicine. Afterwards, Jupiter did away with him because he had called
Hippolytus back to life. 161
Aesculapius was born after his mother had been killed, and he was slain by Jupiter for returning
another mortal from the dead. 162 His myths represent him as a liminal figure who straddles the
boundary between life and death in a way that other mortals, and many gods, do not, 163 and
Burkert refers to him as a deity who is at home neither on Mount Olympus nor in the
underworld. 164 Thus, the serpent is the perfect symbol for a deity who can subvert the norms of
nature due to its ability to slough off old skin and be rejuvenated, as if from illness, and possess
restored youth, as if it was reborn. 165
If we examine Aesculapius’ parentage and life, we meet with a number of animal
associations that compound his liminal nature. Coronis is linked to the crow, a bird sacred to
Apollo, who is in turn connected to the dog/wolf in several of his guises, including Apollo
Maleatas and Apollo Lykeos. Apollo, under the guise of Maleatas, was worshipped along with
Aesculapius at Epidaurus, and dogs were sacred to both deities. 166 According to Isyllos’ version
161 Serv. ad. Aen. VII, 761. Latin Text taken from Asclepius: A Collection and Interpretation of the Testimonies,
edited by EJ and L Edelstein, Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins Press, 1945, p. 30-1. (Translation by Author.)
Tunc Diana eius castitate commota revocavit eum in vitam per Aesculapium, filium Apollinis et Coronidis, qui
natus erat exsecto matris ventre, ideo quod, cum Apollo audisset a corvo, eius custode, eam adulterium committere,
iratus Coronidem maturo iam partu confixit sagittis – corvum vero nigrum fecit ex albo – et exsecto ventre
Coronidis produxit ita Aesculapium, qui factus est medicinae peritus. Hunc postea Iuppiter propter revocatum
Hippolytum interemit.
162 Aesculapius’ death at the hands of Jupiter is tantalizing in relation to the study of animal imagery. Just as
Aesculapius is associated with the serpent, so Jupiter is associated with the eagle. The hostility between serpent and
eagle is mentioned by a number of ancient authors in reference to the sacred serpents of Aesculapius. One example
occurs in Nicander’s Theriaca, a medical text dedicated to poisons. Nicander states “From old the royal bird, the
eagle, has been wrathful towards the serpent and with its beak engages it in hostile battle, when it sees the serpent
crawling along the ground.” The enmity between Jupiter and Aesculapius seems to be mirrored in nature.
163 The tales of his life and death also link Aesculapius to the healing arts, for his birth is reminiscent of a Caesarian
section, and he dies only after conquering death itself.
164 Burkert 1985, 214. Strab. XIV.1.39 records that Aesculapius was born in Trikka on the banks of the Lethaios
River, which certainly calls to mind the geography of the underworld.
165 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 228.
166 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 227. Burkert 1985, 214.
37

of Aesculapius’ birth, a goat nursed the young deity while he was guarded by a dog. 167
Aesculapius also possesses blood ties to the race of centaurs through Koronis, sister of Ixion, the
father of this hybrid race, 168 in addition to being taught the art of medicine by Chiron. 169
The typical image of Aesculapius was that of a middle-aged, bearded man with a
benevolent countenance (although he could take the form of a beardless youth as well) 170 who
generally leans on a staff about which a serpent is entwined. Fig. II.8 is an example of one
common representation of this tradition, the Anzio Type delineated by Holtzmann in his
discussion of the iconography of Aesculapius. 171 Statues of Aesculapius typically depict the god
wearing a chiton and sandals, articles of clothing which would not be worn by an Olympian
deity. 172 Aesculapius is also on occasion accompanied by his daughter and female counterpart,
Greek Hygeia or Roman Salus. 173 Fig. II.9 is one such statue in which Salus is cast as a young
goddess standing alongside her father and feeding a sacred serpent; this closeness to her father
and association with the serpent is typical of her cult images. Salus was the goddess most
frequently connected with Aesculapius and seems to have personified the abstract idea of good
health as opposed to the practice of medicine represented by her father. Both of these images
point to the fact that even though the images of Aesculapius in human form are more common,
they are nearly always accompanied by the serpent, whether it is beneath a seated Aesculapius,
entwined about his staff, or just next to him.
Images of Aesculapius are typically anthropomorphic with the serpent as an attribute or
attendant, and this was one way in which epiphanies of this god were imaged. One of the earliest
literary sources that treats the cult of Aesculapius, Aristophanes’ Plutus, records one, albeit
fictional, example. Aristophanes mocks the keeping of sacred snakes by the cult of Aesculapius
in the following passage in which Cario, the play’s protagonist, imitates a sacred snake.
Cario:… Now when the old hag heard the sound I was making
167
Kerényi 1959, 28-9. Kerényi (1959, 32) also notes that the dog is a transitional animal associated with both life
and death, light and dark. This will be further discussed in Chapter 4.
168
Kerényi 1959, 98-9.
169
Hom. Il. IV.218-9; Pind. Nem. II.54-6.
170
Schouten (1967, 25) and Burkert (1985, 214) note that Aesculapius often resembles Zeus but has a “gentler,
kindlier expression” and that the serpent and staff are key attributes in distinguishing the iconography of the two
deities. Kerényi (1959, Ill. 41) states that a young Aesculapius “was not rare in antiquity.”
171
Holtzmann 1984, 878.
172
Edelstein and Edelstein (1945, 217) suggest that this indicates an acknowledgment of his heroic past as none of
the Greek gods who dwelled on Olympus would be depicted clothed. Nudity was traditional for the great gods.
173
Kerényi 1959, 56. Schouten (1967, 57) states that Salus is occasionally Aesculapius’ wife. For Epione as wife of
Aesculapios, see Kerényi 1959, 56.
38

she put her hand in the pot. Then, hissing, I grabbed it
with my teeth like a snake. 174
The aping of a serpent would have no comic effect, if it did not imitate actual practice or the
belief of the worshippers. Likewise, in the same play, Aristophanes creates an epiphany of the
god in which serpents aid Aesculapius in healing a patient.
Cario: Then he sat down next to Wealth,
and first he felt his head,
thereupon taking a clean towel,
he daubed Wealth’s eyelids. Panacea
spread a red cloth on his head
and his whole face. Then the god whistled.
Two serpents darted forth from the temple,
they were exceedingly large.
Wife: O good heavens!
Cario: They quietly slid below the red cloth
and licked his eyelids, or so it seemed to me. 175
The subordination of the serpent to a role as an attendant does not rule out worship of the god in
theriomorphic form as a sacred snake, and J. Schouten states that this must have been his original
aspect. 176 As mentioned earlier, the transferal of the god’s cult from one place to another usually
took the form of moving a sacred snake from the sanctuary of Epidauros to the new location. 177
A medallion from the reign of Antoninus Pius, 138-161 CE, commemorates one of the most
celebrated foundations in the cult’s history, the acceptance of Aesculapius into Rome (Fig.
174
Ar. Plut. 687-90. Greek Text taken from Aristophanes Frogs, Assemblywomen, Wealth, Loeb Classical Library,
Vol. 1, edited by J. Henderson, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002, p. 526. (Translation by Author.)
N N ," ," 9 W - >( 4 # Y . Z I8 ( [ \4 ] . T M 7 3 ?
D /C , 9 ^ , ( C _ Y + C& B ' 7 8 ( , ( ` XM (#
175
Ar. Plut. 727-38. Greek Text taken from Aristophanes Frogs, Assemblywomen, Wealth, Loeb Classical Library,
Vol. 1, edited by J. Henderson, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2002, p. 530. (Translation by Author.)
N N ," ," 9 1 a & " b 7 Y ) 3 5( M &5( CM @T 7 Y
* . S B & B_ Y B& M T ' 9S a 4 ) Y I 3
M &3 M , Y 6 . " 9 2 I W .( C # Y C = 4 ' c
4 I C _ Y E M D( . (#
J J @9 @
d M ,& ,#
N N ," ," 9 " IE . 3 M , IE IS ?e Y B& M & ? 7 R ( IC D#
176
Schouten 1967, 39. As noted in Chapter I, I do not believe that having an animal attendant means that the
possession of an anthropomorphic form necessitates the surpassing of an original theriomorphic conception in every
instance. This may indeed be the case with Aesculapius, though there is no sure way to tell.
177
Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 230. Sacred snakes were transferred to Rome, Halies, Athens, Sicyon, and
Epidauros Limera.
39

II.11). On this medallion, a personification of the Tiber looks on and stretches out his hand in a
welcoming gesture to the foreign god. 178 This medal shows that the tale of Aesculapius’ arrival
remained popular and was accepted by the Romans well into the Imperial period. Thus the
medal demonstrates that Aesculapius could still be conceived of as a snake god even in the mid
second century CE.
Aesculapius’ entry into Italy was relatively late, but Rome was an important center for
this divinity. 179 The circumstances for this transferal of cult are preserved in a number of literary
sources. 180 Livy records a plague that harried the Romans during the years 295 and 293 BC. In
order to cure this plague, the Romans turned first to the god Apollo, whose oracles had been
recorded in the Sibylline Books. Through this instrument, the god instructed them to bring his
son, Aesculapius, from the great healing sanctuary in Epidaurus to the city of Rome. Livy notes
that the consuls of 293 BCE were unable to act immediately because they were occupied with
wars against the Etruscans and Samnites, but the god was successfully incorporated into the
Roman pantheon in 291 BCE. 181
Livy’s account of the transfer of Aesculapius unfortunately does not survive except in the
Perioichai. Ovid, however, records the transfer and entry of the god into the city of Rome in
Book XV of the Metamorphoses, and the presence of the god in the form of a sacred snake
appears in both accounts, albeit Ovid’s account is more dramatic. In Ovid’s version of the tale,
the Epidaurians were at first reluctant to give up their god to the Romans; Aesculapius appeared
in a dream to Quintus Ogulnius, the leader of the Roman emissaries, and gave his assent to be
transferred to Rome. In the dream, Aesculapius appeared to Ogulnius in anthropomorphic form,
but, when he approached the ship to be transferred to Rome, he took the form of a sacred serpent.
O Roman, when the health-bearing god, seemed to stand in your dreams
Before your bed just as he is wont to in his temple,
Holding a rustic staff in his left hand,
Stroking his long beard with his right,
178 Kerényi (1959, 15) interprets the figure greeting Aesculapius as Faunus, but it seems more likely that this is the
personification of the Tiber River since he rises from the water and the bare chest and wreathed head resemble other
images of river gods. Mambella (1997, 26) includes this medallion in the LIMC catalogue for Tiberis, Tiberinus in
accordance with this interpretation. Turcan (1988, 33) also identifies the reclining god as the Tiber. The Tiber also
carries an object that may be an anchor. Interestingly, this medallion is not included in the LIMC entry for
Asklepios.
179 Schouten (1967, 13) lists the “principal shrines” of the god as Epidauros, Athens, Pergamum, Cos, and Rome.
180 Livy and Ovid’s text are discussed here, but Valerius Maximus (I.8.2) and the anonymous author of De Viris
Illustribus (22, 1-3) also record this event and even add a brief stop at the port of Antium.
181 Livy X.XLVII.7
40

And uttered such words with a calm heart:
“Shed your fear! I shall come and leave my image behind.
Now this serpent, which encircles my staff,
Look on it and mark it with your sight, so that you might recognize it!
I shall change to this: but I shall be larger and seem as great
As the celestial bodies ought be when changing. 182
Ovid’s account encapsulates both types of Aesculapius’ iconography, the form taken by statues
of the god and his appearance in an epiphany; it is a clear formulation of the belief that the god
could take the form of a snake. 183 Livy echoes this sentiment in his summary.
When the state was oppressed by a plague, legates were sent to bring from
Epidauros to Rome the image of Aesculapius, namely, a snake which had crawled
aboard their ship, and in which it was believed the god had embodied himself.
The temple of Aesculapius was built on Tiber Island at that very place where it
had disembarked. 184
This belief was strong enough to attract the attention of Christian apologists such as Arnobius,
who derided the belief that Aesculapius would deign to take the form of such a lowly, ground-
dwelling animal. 185
Furthermore, in Ovid’s dramatization of the event, the serpent acts with human
awareness, and it is the serpent, not the Romans, which chooses the location of its temple on the
Tiber Island. 186 The agency of the snake in choosing a location for the cult is echoed in other
literary accounts that record foundations of Aesculapius’ cult. Another transfer in which a
182 Ov. Met. XV.653-62. Latin Text taken from Ovid Metamorphoses Books IX-XV, Loeb Classical Library,
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994, p. 410. (Translation by Author.)
…cum deus in somnis opifer consistere visus / ante tuum, Romane, torum, sed qualis in aede / esse solet,
baculumque tenens agreste sinistra / caesariem longae dextra deducere barbae / et placido tales emittere pectore
voces: / “pone metus! veniam simulacraque nostra relinquam. / hunc modo serpentem, baculum qui nexibus ambit, /
perspice et usque nota visu, ut cognoscere possis! / vertar in hunc: sed maior ero tantusque videbor, / in quantum
verti caelestia corpora debent.”
183 Epiphanies of the god in snake form: Marinus’ Vita Procli Cp. 30 (Edelstein 1945, 256)
Epiphanies of the god with snakes: Hippocrates, Epistulae 15 (Edelstein 1945, 258-9)
184 Liv. Per. XI. Latin Text taken from Asclepius: A Collection and Interpretation of the Testimonies, edited by EJ
and L Edelstein, Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins Press, 1945, p. 431. (Translation by Author.)
Cum pestilentia civitas laboraret, missi legati, ut Aesculapi signum Romam ab Epidauro transferrent, anguem, qui se
in navem eorum contulerat, in quo ipsum numen esse constabat, deportaverunt; eoque in insulam Tiberis egresso
eodem loco aedis Aesculapio constituta est.
185 Arn. Adv. Nat. VII, 44-48. We must keep in mind that the Romans were obviously not adverse to accepting gods
in non-anthropomorphic form. Cybele, the Magna Mater, came to Rome as a sacred black stone, possibly a
meteorite, in the form of a betyl, also under the directive of the Sibylline Books.
186 Interestingly enough, the serpent chooses a location sacred to other liminal, hybrid deities, the gods Faunus and
Vediovis.
41

serpent chooses both the time and place of healing the sick as well a place to found a new branch
of the cult is documented in an inscription testifying to the god’s healing powers.
Thersandrus of Halieis with consumption. He, when in his [Asclepius’] temple
sleep saw no vision, was carried back to Halieis on a wagon; one of the sacred
serpents, however, was sitting on the wagon and remained for the greater part of
the journey coiled around the axle. When they came to Halieis and Thersandrus
was resting on his bed at home, the serpent descended from the wagon and cured
Thersandrus. When the city of Halieis made an inquiry as to what had happened
and was at a loss regarding the serpent, whether to return it to Epidauros or to
leave it in their territory, the city resolved to send to Delphi for an oracle as to
what they should do. The god decided they should leave the serpent there and put
up a sanctuary of Asclepius, make an image of him, and set it up in the temple.
When the oracle was announced the city of Halieis erected the sanctuary of
Asclepius and followed the rest of the god’s commands. 187
An ordinary snake would not be represented with such awareness. In the case of Rome, Kerényi
notes that the choice of the Tiber Island as a residence was odd for the god of healing. This
island must have been chosen more because of religious significance than its character as a
healthful place, something which it certainly was not. 188 Kerényi states, “Here, side by side with
Faunus, the snake of Asklepios was to glitter in a wolflike nocturnal world and yet with its cold
body symbolize as it were the warm light of life…” 189 This Greek god had been ritually adopted,
“en toto,” by the increasingly powerful settlement on the Tiber River. 190
As a god of healing, who could predict the outcome of a patient’s life, Aesculapius was
also considered a god of prophecy (Fig. II.12). 191 Kerényi identifies Fig. II.12 as a “synthesis of
187
IG IV.1. nos. 122.XXXII. Greek Text taken from Asclepius: A Collection and Interpretation of the Testimonies,
edited by EJ and L Edelstein, Baltimore, MD: Johns Hopkins Press, 1945, p. 227, 235-6. (Translation by Edelstein
and Edelstein.)
fgh G ( ; & .( M , # i (7 8 ( C " g Gj XT kkgUG '7 CM /l ( g< &G
A ,( ( ; & D(7 4 " ( kg G - C g6 ( l G4 ( ( Q(7 . g&G> 6 (
W ' kg& G ( g G < & # & " /g G g G ( ; & D( kg G
h g4 G & ( mg G7 W 4 " A . 6 ( l 4 kg G( B g( G. h 4 #
g 6 ( G) & ( ; & kkgC G gbG ( . ' g (G XM kg (7
G ( /% , A ,b" gn . G ? C kg 7 *G 6 & ( o &M >( A
D& g ? ' G (7 kg G 9W ) h .( *? ' . XM C5 g D -G g(
k/ G & ( g' G ( A h g (Gkk . - # A &h ( )
? ' g
g Gk
l & G( l
C &
; &
#
gA M Gk ( / & g < && E . G
188
Kerényi 1959, 16.
189
Kerényi 1959, 17.
190
Altheim (1938, 283, 286) stresses the importance of Aesculapius as a representative of a new infusion of Greek
culture at a critical point in Rome’s history.
191 Kerényi 1959, 66.
42

the writer-physician and the divine seer.” 192 Two elements of the statue’s pose reflect this
possibility: the scroll, an item on which a prophecy may be written, and the gesture of raising
the hand to the chin, a sign of thoughtfulness. As mentioned earlier, Aesculapius might provide
an oracle for a patient during the period of incubation spent in the god’s shrine. Thus, Faunus’
shrine on this island is appropriately placed next to Aesculapius since Faunus may also provide
oracles through the same process of sleeping in the god’s temple precinct. 193 Likewise, the snake
was associated with oracles through its connection to the earth, 194 not the least of which was the
Delphic oracle, seized from Mother Earth by Aesculapius’s father Apollo. In Latium, a serpent
oracle was closely associated with another deity discussed in this study, Juno Sospita. 195
Aesculapius’ parentage may also predispose him to the mantic arts. In the cult of Aesculapius,
prophecy was practiced through the process of incubation. 196
Aesculapius was not the only benevolent, divine figure that could take the form of a
serpent. The concept of the Genius, often thought of as representative of “old Roman religion”
with roots in Etruscan cult, 197 is nebulous and vague and could be attached to a variety of ideas
ranging from the Genius of the paterfamilias of a household to the Genius of the Roman people
or emperor. 198 The Genius of a household represented reproductive power, in particular the
power that passed from father to son in each generation and preserved the continuity of the
gens. 199 When the Genius was represented in art he was typically shown as a male wearing a
toga (often capite velato), holding a patera, cornucopia or both, and making an offering at an
altar. 200 The Genius does not appear alone, though, and is often associated with other Roman
192 Kerényi 1959, 65.
193 Palmer 1974, 139.
194 Schouten 1967, 36-7.
195 Since there is no indication that Juno Sospita was conceived of as a serpent, I shall hold discussion of the serpent
oracle associated with her cult until Chapter Four where it serves as an indicator of her chthonic character.
196 Kerényi 1959, 36-8.
197 Andersen (1993, 55) concludes that the domestic cult was an integral part of Etruscan family life in the Iron Age
and early Orientalizing period. This practice continued throughout their history. Weinstock (1946, 109-14, 126)
also demonstrates that the Etruscans had a conception of household deities such as the Genius and the Lares in his
discussion of Martianus Capella’s text. Weinstock concludes his article with a statement regarding the great
difficulty of using this text and the problems of interpreting an Etruscan document which has been influenced by
Greek religion and passed down by a Roman antiquarian. Altheim (1938, 60-1) notes that the concept of genius was
common to both the Etruscans and Romans. De Grummond (2006a, ) convincingly proposes that the Roman
concept of Genius is parallel to the Etruscan Mari . Boyce (1942, 20) notes the development and expansion from
the household god to state divinity.
198 Fowler (1969, 14), following the old-fashioned tenets of so-called Roman animism, proposes that the Genius
formed a core Roman belief that was not harmed by the advent of anthropomorphic deities.
199 Altheim 1938, 59; Fowler 1969, 17.
200 Romeo 1997, 606.
43

household divinities such as the Penates and the Lares and/or accompanied by a serpent or pair
of serpents. 201 Fig. II.13 is a reproduction of a rather elaborate lararium from the west wall of a
small atrium located in the House of the Vettii, Pompeii. This lararium consists of a fresco
framed by a shallow aedicula that possesses a rectangular niche flanked by two Corinthian half-
columns supporting an architrave and pediment decorated with implements of sacrifice. The
fresco that decorates this lararium also contains an image of a beardless, togate Genius flanked
by two rhyton-bearing Lares represented as youths. The bottom zone of decoration contains a
crested and bearded serpent that makes its way towards a square altar topped with offerings of
eggs and fruit. 202 These elements are the traditional, common components of household shrines
in Pompeii and demonstrate the importance of serpent imagery in Roman domestic religion. 203
The standard interpretation of this serpent is that it is at one time sacred to and a symbol
of the Genius, but G.K. Boyce does not accept this idea, limiting the role of the serpent to a
function as the Genius Loci, the guardian of a particular, often sacred, place. 204 A snake is
labeled as such in one painting from Herculaneum that depicts the god Harpocrates along with
the Genius Loci of Mount Vesuvius. Fig. II.14 depicts an image of the young god Harpocrates
bearing a branch and standing near an altar. 205 A serpent, labeled Genius Huius Loci Montis,
coils about the altar and lifts an offering from its top. Boyce deduces that the mountain
mentioned in the inscription must be Mt. Vesuvius, and, surely, this is correct given that the
fresco was found in Herculaneum, a city in the shadow of this infamous volcano. 206 Boyce
further notes that nothing is known of the wall on which this fresco was found, but it may have
been part of a household shrine.
Only one literary example of such a serpent receiving offerings exists, and it appears in
the Aeneid when Aeneas sacrifices at his father’s grave.
Aeneas said these things, when a slippery serpent from the base of the shrine
Drew out seven huge coils, seven folds apiece,
Embracing the tomb peacefully and slithering over the altars;
201
On the entrance wall to Golini Tomb II, two serpents much like those depicted in Roman house shrines appear in
the pedimental area of the painting.
202
Boyce 1937, 54. Pavlick (2006, 80) suggests that the Genius, Lares, and Genius Loci (in the form of a serpent)
formed the “core domestic trio” or Roman household gods.
203
Dowden (1998, 116) cites the serpent as the only “substantial instance of animal-veneration” in a Greco-Roman
context.
204
For a history of the association of the serpent and the Genius, see Boyce 1942, 15-6. For the serpent as Genius
Loci see Boyce 1942, 19-20, Pavlick 2006, 46-79, Wiseman 2004, 221, Turcan 2000, 17.
205
For the identification of this youthful figure as Harpocrates, see Tinh, Jaeger, and Poulin 1981, 426.
206 Boyce 1942, 20.
44

His back was marked with sky-blue spots
And his scales burned with a sheen of gold, as a rainbow
Casts a thousand different colors among the clouds by bending the sunlight.
Aeneas was thunderstruck at the site. That serpent, with its long coils,
At last amongst the bowls and the polished cups
Ate the offerings, and harmlessly crawled
Below the tomb again, and left behind the altars where he fed.
That much more did Aeneas renew the rites he had begun for his father,
Uncertain whether he thought the serpent
was the spirit of that place or the attendant of his father. 207
In this example, Aeneas’ offerings consumed by the serpent before it returns to the tomb include
two vials of milk, wine, and the blood of a sacrificial animal. 208 These offerings, made in the
context of the cult of the dead, are analogous to the egg and pine cone shown in household
shrines. The serpent is often shown entwined about an altar or receiving offerings of eggs and
pine cones. Boyce makes much of the distinction in the types of offerings made to each type of
genius, 209 and, while noting that the offering of an egg finds a parallel in the Greek cult of the
dead, he states, “… by no stretch of the imagination can we connect the house altars with the cult
of the dead.” 210 The pine cone was typically associated with gods such as Dionysos, Poseidon,
and Aesculapius and was representative of “vitality and fertility,” 211 two traits that fit with the
concept of the genius as a chthonic creature. 212
I propose that Boyce’s rejection of the association of the Genius Loci with the cult of the
dead does not hold. Confusion among the various household gods is not limited to modern
scholars. The Lares and Penates are sometimes thought to be the same by ancient authors in the
Late Roman period, and these figures are both associated with the ancestors of a gens. 213
207 Verg. Aen. V.84-96. Latin Text taken from Ovid Metamorphoses Books IX-XV, Loeb Classical Library,
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994, p. 476, 478. (Translation by Author.)
dixerat haec, adytis cum lubricus anguis ab imis / septem ingens gyros, septena volumina traxit, / amplexus placide
tumulum lapsusque per aras, / caeruleae cui terga notae maculosus et auro / squamam incendebat fulgor, ceu nubibus
arcus / mille iacit varios adverso sole colores. / obstipuit visu Aeneas. Ille agmine longo / tandem inter pateras et
levia pocula serpens / libavitque dapes, rursusque innoxius imo / successit tumulo, et depasta altaria liquit. / hoc
magis inceptos genitori instaurat honores, / incertus, geniumne loci famulumne parentis / esse putet…
208 Verg. Aen. V.77-8.
209 Boyce 1942, 20.
210 Boyce 1942, n. 41.
211 Edelstein and Edelstein 1945, 226.
212 Like the egg, the pine cone was also present in funerary art, and numerous examples of pine cone shaped stele
exist.
213 For an opposing view to the interpretation of the Lares as ancestors see Palmer (1974, 115). My own feeling is
that the diversity in epithets given to the Lares in addition to their association with powers of fertility and increase
does not rule out the possibility of their association with a household’s ancestors.
45

Vergil’s statement that Aeneas was unsure whether the snake embodied the Genius Loci or his
father’s attendant spirit indicates that the same confusion must have affected the Genius Loci and
the Genius of an ancestor. It is also important to note that, Aeneas is performing rites for his
dead father when the Genius Loci emerges from Anchises’ tomb; this indicates a clear
connection to the cult of the dead. The constant grouping of Lares, Genius, and serpent is
instructive, and it is difficult to say whether or not a Roman would have conceptualized these
figures as entirely distinct entities. The generative powers of the Genius are closely tied to the
grave and the ancestors, 214 and the serpent, as we have seen, is a symbol of both fertility and
death. Even if we limit the serpent’s role to function as a guardian spirit of a particular place, 215
its consistent appearance in household shrines with or without other figures associated with the
cult of the ancestors indicate that the Genius and Genius Loci share similar meaning and
function. 216 The Lares, Penates, Genius, and Genius Loci are all part of the same cultic context,
and the worship of one’s ancestors was of critical importance to the ancient Romans. 217 It was
part of a family’s duties and the mos maiorum. 218 As Turcan notes,
There was nothing more specifically Roman than domestic worship; it was what
immediately distinguished Roman religion, for example on Delos, from the Greek
environment, in the case of the colonists who lived on the island. 219
It is thus significant, that a key feature of Roman identity involves cult focused on a deity
in serpent form.
As one can see from this assortment of deities, the serpent’s symbolism is manifold. It is
associated with both the healing and harmful forces of nature, fertility and procreative power, and
life and death in a more general way. In Aesculapius, the embodiment of all these ideas, we also
find an example of a Greek god imported to Italy whose myths and cult were adopted with little
change by the people of Rome. Aesculapius also serves as an example of a therianthropic deity
whose depictions in literature and art are not consistent with his worshippers’ conception in cult.
214 Altheim 1938, 169.
215 Wiseman (2004, 22) refers to the Genius as a “guardian angel” of the paterfamilias and the Lares as protectors of
the home. Fowler (1969, 19) refers to the Genius as “permanent companion and protector throughout life.”
216 Boyce 1942, 13. It should also not seem odd that the Genius Loci, a chthonic spirit, received offerings associated
with the cult of the dead. In fact, it is quite logical.
217 Fowler (1969, 23) notes that the deified ancestors were thought of collectively as the di parentes (in the case of a
specific family) or the di Manes (for all of the dead). Groups of gods with indistinct identities are characteristic of
the Roman conception of the ancestors in the afterlife.
218 It is the close association with Roman family values that made the Genius Augusti such a powerful part of
Augustus’ propaganda. For Augustus as paterfamilias of the state, see Turcan 2000, 136.
219 Turcan 2000, 14.
46

A god such as this may take on multiple forms, be they human, animal, or a combination of the
two. We must be mindful of this over the course of the study and not limit ourselves too strictly
to known types. The serpent was also integral to Roman domestic religion and could be found at
the heart of a Roman home in the lararium. The presence of the serpent at the center of Roman
domestic religion in household shrines as a figure that accompanies the Lares and Genius should
dispel the notion that animal worship was completely shunned by the people of Italy and
demonstrate that theriomorphic and therianthropic deities could hold a prominent place in cult
practice.
47

CHAPTER 3: THE WOLF AND CANINES
Down through the ages, the wolf has never had a neutral relationship with
humanity. It has either been hated, despised, and persecuted or revered,
respected, and protected. It has been, and continues to be, a subject of myth and
legend, folklore and fairy tale. 220
For the inhabitants of the ancient world, the wolf was an animal charged with meaning.
In Norse myth, the wolf was the enemy of the gods and order. According to Norse myth, at the
time of Ragnarok, an epic battle in which the earth would be destroyed and nearly all the gods
slain, two wolves, who had been chasing the sun and moon since the creation of the universe,
would devour their prey, and the wolf Fenrir would swallow whole Odin the All-father. 221 The
wolf was also used to symbolize the enemy of man in Greek literature, and the wolf is
characterized by cruelty and savagery as early as Homer, who labels the creature “deadly and
bloodthirsty.” 222
On the other hand, the wolf, primarily through its relative the dog, could also be
conceived of as a loyal guardian. The ancient Egyptians worshipped several canid deities.
Anubis, to whom I shall return below, and Up-uaut were underworld gods depicted with the head
of a jackal. Anubis was the guide of the dead to the underworld, and Up-uaut was the “Opener
of Ways;” both fulfilled the role of psychopomp. 223 The wolf and dogs were also associated with
gods and goddesses of the underworld by the Greeks. The chthonic goddess Hekate, who was
sometimes conceived with canine attributes, was accompanied by a pack of baying hounds as she
roamed the earth at night, and red dogs were sacrificed to her at crossroads, liminal places often
associated with black magic. 224 Certainly, no one can forget that the guardian of the entrance of
Hades was the three-headed dog, Kerberos. Numerous examples from other cultures could be
220 Mech and Boitani 2003, xvii.
221 Richardson 1977, 97.
222 Hom. Il. 16.156
223 Spence 1990, 106.
224 For canine attributes, see Jenkins 1957, 60, for associations with hounds and magic, see Soren 1999, 620-3.
Bevan (1986, 116-8) also explores the relationship between Hekate and canines and even suggests that the obscure
goddess known only as Kynagia may be an incarnation of Hekate.
48

cited to demonstrate the importance of canines in myth and their relationship to the underworld
in particular. 225
In Italy, though, the wolf was an animal of singular importance. In the guise of the Lupa
Capitolina or Capitoline She-Wolf, the wolf was a protectress and surrogate mother for the twin
founders of Rome. Lupa was also a word associated with the sexual appetite; a lupa could either
be a she-wolf or a prostitute, 226 and a lupanar was a brothel. The Latin word for wolf, lupus, is
also remarkably similar to the Etruscan verb to die, lupu. 227 This is not likely a coincidence, as
the Etruscan lord of the underworld, Aita, wore a wolf-skin cap, perhaps as an indicator of his
fearsome nature. As with all of the animals dealt with in this study, the wolf possessed a
complex nature and was a symbol of life and death. A number of gods worshipped in Italy were
associated with the wolf or other canines, and the ones treated here include Aita, Apollo Soranus,
Faunus, and Silvanus. 228
It seems best to begin with the god for whom we possess the most concrete evidence,
Aita. Unlike his Greek equivalent Hades, Aita sometimes possesses a wolf-skin cap in addition
to other regalia such as a scepter. 229 The monuments in which he appears wearing this cap
include the Tomb of Orcus at Tarquinia (Fig. III.1), the Golini Tomb at Orvieto (Fig. III.2), a
red-figure oinochoe of the Torcop group (Fig. III.3), 230 and a sarcophagus from Torre San Severo
at Orvieto (Fig. III.4); all of these objects date from the late 4 th to early 3 rd C BCE. Aita’s
iconography is similar in each of these images; he is shown as a bearded, mature, regal male
whom, outside of a chthonic context, we might mistake for either of his brothers, Tinia or
Nethuns, were he not wearing his distinctive headgear.
225
In a discussion of a terracotta plaque from the Regia (Rupp Fig. V.5) Brendel (1995, 137), notes the presence of a
dog on a so-called Totenbett of the early 6 th century BCE. I would like to speculate that the significance of this
animal goes beyond the presence of a pet and suggest that it may be part of the funerary iconography of the dog in
Etruscan art.
226
This alternate meaning led some Roman antiquarians to interpret Romulus and Remus’ foster mother as a
prostitute instead of a she-wolf. To my knowledge, this tradition is not recorded in art and seems to be a
rationalization of the myth.
227
Elliot 1995, 24.
228
Faunus and Silvanus are not always accepted by scholars as wolf deities, but evidence will be presented to secure
this connection.
229
Hostetter 1978, 263.
230
Del Chiaro (1970, 293) notes that Aita’s beard is shown in an “early stage, somewhat neglected and shaggy,”
which he links to other characters of the Etruscan underworld such as the demon Charu and to the practice of
allowing one’s physical appearance to become more rugged during times of mourning. Del Chiaro also posits that
the confronting female figure must be Phersipnai, and this seems likely.
49

P. Defosse proposes that the connection between Aita and the wolf goes back to an
“original” Etruscan god of death, Calu. 231 This connection is based on a dedicatory inscription,
: calu tla, 232 found on a figurine from Cortona in the shape of a wolfhound (Fig. III.5).
Richardson comes to the conclusion that this wolfhound is actually a representation of Calu,
whose assumption of anthropomorphic form is in question, but she does offer several possible
representations which show the god in human shape. 233 In scholarship, this god is sometimes
referred to as Aita-Calu, but, following epigraphic evidence, Simon notes a distinction between
Aita as a mythological persona and Calu as a god who receives cult worship. 234 It is true that
Calu, as Tinia-Calusna at the Belvedere sanctuary in Orvieto, 235 does receive cult worship, but
we may be hasty in drawing a distinct line between Calu and Aita. In Greek religion and myth,
Hades is sometimes called the “Chthonic Zeus.” 236 Instead of separating Aita from Calu, what
we should perhaps read is the syncretism of these two gods. Perhaps after the influx of Greek art
and culture into Etruria, Calu, the god of death could not help but be equated with his Greek
counterpart. Aita-Calu then adopted components of Hades’ iconography (a mature, bearded man
of regal stature) as part of a mythological koine but also retained his Etruscan roots and so was
depicted with a wolf-skin cap.
On what then is the connection between the underworld and the wolf based? The wolf is
a creature of the night that inspires terror and fear. The wolf’s howl is eerie, its eyes glow in the
darkness, and its fangs and teeth are the sure signs of a predator. The wolf hunts primarily by
231
Defosse 1972, 313-5. By original, we are no doubt meant to understand Calu as a native god free of Greek
influence. Defosse (1972, 499) interprets this statuette as a theriomorphic representation of the Etruscan “ravager”
and death god Calu in the shape of a canine. The exact species of the statuette is not clear and may be meant to
represent a wolf, but Richardson (1977, 95) believes that the creature is more hound than wolf. We can but wonder
if naturalistic details were a priority of the artist, or, if it was enough to represent Calu as a canine. The link to Calu
is secured in either case by the inscription. Defosse (1972, 499) also links this figurine to the cinerary urns depicting
a wolf-man (Fig. III.10-12), and one may be reminded of the scene on the urns by the wolf-hound’s outstretched
paw.
232
TLE 642; Rix (1991, Co 4.10) lists the inscription as (elan l) : calu tla but does not provide a reason for his
variant reading. N. de Grummond has remarked that Rix’s reading of this inscription would appear to link Fig. III.5
to Selvans. If we are able to accept Rix’s version of the inscription and that Selvans and uri were worshipped
together at Tarquinia according to Colonna (1994, 355), then we may possess a further connection amongst the
various lupine deities discussed in this chapter.
233
Richardson 1977, 95, 99-101.
234
Simon 2006, 57.
235
De Grummond 2006a, 55; Hostetter (1978, 264) suggests that Tinia Calusna may appear on a bronze handle from
Spina, and, while there are no iconographical elements to secure this identification, the composition of the handle
indicates that Hostetter is likely correct.
236
Burkert 1985, 196. See also Hom. Il. 9.457, Hes. Erga. 465, Aesch. Suppl. 231.
50

smell in forested areas, so it has the “appearance of slinking,” which is fearful to man. 237 When
necessary, the wolf supplements its diet by scavenging and eating carrion and it has been known
to approach human settlements at night in order to find garbage for dining. 238 Despite the wolf’s
habit of living and hunting in packs, it is also viewed as solitary creature, an outsider. The wolf
was one of the largest predatory animals present in ancient Italy, and its dependence on flocks of
sheep and other livestock for food kept it in close contact with man. 239 It was perceived as fierce
and wild and a direct contrast to its domesticated descendents. Even today, the wolf remains a
potent symbol for negative characteristics such as cruelty and ravenous behavior. 240 The
association between the gods of the underworld and a fearsome creature such as the wolf seems
quite logical due to man’s innate fear of both.
The perceived character of the animal is not the only thing that may have influenced the
Etruscan conception of a lupine death god, though. Elliott has suggested that Calu’s iconography
may be a result of Egyptian influence through imagery of the god Anubis being transferred to
Etruria. 241 This goes against a dictum that one meets when trying to discuss animal worship in a
classical context. Leavitt states, “It is not clear how the gods of the dead from ancient Egypt,
represented as a jackal or in human form with the head of a dog, could be tolerated in the
classical world that scornfully rejected zoolatry.” 242 But as has been argued in Chapter I, the
presence of theriomorphic and therianthropic deities in the art and literature of the Etruscans and
Romans argues against the idea that animal worship was entirely rejected.
A bucchero oinochoe currently housed in the Museo Nazionale di Palermo depicts the
tale of Medusa’s death at the hands of the hero Perseus (Fig. III.6). 243 Perseus and the Gorgon
237 Midgley 2001, 185.
238 Boitani 1982, 163. Presumably, garbage is part of the wolf’s diet since it is plentiful and easily obtained; it does
not require a great deal of energy.
239 Boitanti 1982, 166. Fritts, Stephenson, Hayes, and Boitani (2003, 308-9) suggest that wolves do not prey on
livestock as much as one might think, but the perceived threat to livestock, and therefore human interests, is great
nonetheless.
240 Midgely 2001, 183.
241 Elliott 1986, 73.
242 Leavitt 1992, 248.
243 The type of oinochoe and details of its creation suggest an Archaic date and production in Chiusi. The scene
represented is the death of Medusa at the hands of Perseus, common in both Greek and Etruscan art. Stock elements
of the scene include the hideous gorgon, Athena as Perseus’ aide, and an armed figure of Perseus. The artist who
crafted this vessel has added a second warrior and a dog-headed demon. The addition of Etruscan figures to Greek
myths has been noted elsewhere, and one famous example is the scene of Achilles sacrificing Trojan prisoners in the
François Tomb, Vulci. The further addition of the dog-headed demon to this scene need not confuse us. Perhaps
Anubis’ role as psychopomp, one point of contact between Hermes and the Egyptian god, is meant to indicate the
51

are not alone on this vessel, and one figure in particular stands out, a canine-headed man. (In
Fig. III.6, the canine-headed man is the fourth figure from the left of the image. Thus, from left
to right, the figures present in this scene are Athena, the Gorgon, Perseus, and the canine
therianthrope. Due to this vase’s state of preservation, a large portion of the figure is missing.
Even so, his canine features are quite clear.) V. Tusa suggests that this figure is Anubis and that
in this scene he performs the function of an Etruscan death demon, Vanth (i.e. a signifier of
impending death, in this case the death of Medusa and the final journey to the underworld). 244
Anubis’ roles as a psychopomp and guardian or as a menacing underworld figure are in accord
with the functions Vanth and Charu seem to fulfill in Etruscan art, and this suggestion is
appealing. But the question of whether this figure is meant to be Anubis remains. There are no
inscriptions on the oinochoe, and so iconography must be used to determine the identity of this
figure.
The Etruscans were familiar with Egyptian deities, as attested by numerous
representations of the god Bes, and so perhaps we should be open to the presence of Anubis on
Italian soil in the sixth century BCE. Etruscan tomb groups discovered in cities such as
Tarquinia, Cerveteri, Vetulonia, and Vulci also indicate an Etruscan interest in Oriental imports
in the seventh century BCE; a famous example is the Tarquinian tomb that contained the
Bocchoris Vase. 245 Ideas as well as goods were no doubt transported by the merchants who
brought such items to Etruria in search of iron and other metals. Among the earliest objects
brought to Italy were Egyptian faience figurines and amulets which represented the Egyptian
gods in their typically therianthropic guises. 246 The Etruscan, Roman, and Italic traditions of
local wolf-gods make the importation of the canine Anubis more likely. 247 It is perhaps an
approaching death of the Gorgon. Hostetter (1978, 265) notes that the Etruscan Hermes, Turms, also guides the
deceased to the underworld and in this capacity is labeled as Turms Aitas.
244
Tusa 1956, 151.
245
Rathje 1979, 150-2, 177.
246
For Bes, see Rathje 1979, 179.
247
Turcan (1999, 81-85) outlines the progress of Isis’ cult “From the Nile to the Mouth of the Tiber.” He points to a
progression of Egyptian deities from the Nile Delta to Athens at Piraeus in the 5 th C BCE in the form of Egyptian
sailors and merchants worshipping Isis before a temple was built at Piraeus in 333 BCE. Turcan then notes that the
island of Delos was instrumental in spreading Isis’ cult to Italy through its function as a free port in the 2 nd C BCE.
Inscriptions there record the offerings of Romans and Italians to Isis as well as Anubis. Cumont (1956, 79-80),
tracking the progress of Isis’ cult around the Mediterranean, also makes a point of the Romans’ importation of the
Hellenized character of the cult of Isis and points to the acceptance of Isis by the Greeks as a critical step for the
Roman acceptance of this goddess. It was also probably in the 2 nd C BCE that Pompeii received its first Iseum
along with Naples’ first Serapeum. Egyptian religion had taken root on the Italian peninsula, and Rome would
begin its love-hate relationship with Isis in the mid-first century BCE. It seems safe to conclude that knowledge of
52

overstatement to suggest that Anubis could easily be translated to Aita or uri, 248 for Anubis’
role is not that of the lord of the underworld. 249 Whatever the exact function or identity of the
canine demon on the oinochoe may be, what is notable is the presence of therianthropic wolf-
men in Etruscan art, a demonstration of the Etruscans’ ability to conceive of divinities in animal
form.
Anubis could have served as a model for the iconography of an underworld god even if
his cult and worship were not adopted wholesale by the Etruscans; however, the cult of Anubis
was later accepted in the Greco-Roman world as part of the worship of the goddess Isis. Romans
involved in the cult of Isis seem to have adopted Anubis, as is shown by the presence of the
syncretic figure, Hermanubis, a fitting conflation of Greco-Roman and Egyptian gods due to
their similar function as guides of the dead. 250 Fig. III.7, a sculpture originally from Anzio but
found in the Villa Pamphili in 1749, represents a Roman mingling of the iconography of Anubis
and Hermes-Mercury. This jackal-headed statue wears a Roman style tunic and holds a
caduceus in its left hand and a sistrum in its right. As a mediator between life and death,
Hermanubis partook of the celestial and infernal realms and was sometimes linked to the
horizon, a place of transition which linked the worlds of the living and the dead. 251 A blend of
animal and human iconography seems quite fitting for this liminal deity. Thus in contrast to Isis,
Osiris, and Horus, Anubis seldom loses his canine features in art; one example appears in a
household shrine in the Casa degli Amorini Dorati in Pompeii, in which Hermanubis appears
along with Harpocrates, Isis, and Serapis. 252 In literature Anubis’ hybrid nature is emphasized
Anubis and his iconography traveled alongside the cult of Isis. See Grenier (1977, nos. 61, 62) for the text of the
inscriptions which equate Anubis and Hermes.
248
uri, the Etruscan name for Apollo Soranus, is dealt with below.
249
Elliott (1986, 75) notes that the broad iconographic connections between Apollo and Anubis do not wholly
justify this idea.
250
Grenier 1977, 171. According to Witt (1971, 199) Anubis’ role in the cult of Isis was not only one of guide and
guard but also as a representative of the possibility of eternal life. I believe that this is an important factor in the
iconography of this god. Smelik and Hemelrijk (1984, 1968) state the following in reference to the naturalism of
Hermanubis: “This image shows the impossibility of incorporating the theriomorphic conception of gods into the
interpretatio graeca/romana of the Egyptian religion.” If anything, the retention of the jackal head in the
iconography of Anubis shows that the two religious traditions can be merged, and likely emphasizes his role as
psychopomp and protector since trained dogs can function both as guides and guardians.
251
Witt 1971, 205.
252 Boyce 1937, 56-7.
53

y reference to his barking, 253 and it would appear that the jackal’s head was integral to the
character of this god. 254
A second appearance of a wolf-headed demon as a subsidiary figure can be seen on a
painted, terracotta cinerary urn from Chiusi (Fig. III.8). 255 The figures present on this highly
unusual urn make up a scene of departure for the underworld and thus fit with a theme that is
common in Etruscan art. Two arches are present to indicate the boundaries between the lands of
the living and the dead, and a figure stands in each arch. On the left, a man with a pointed cap,
possibly a priest, shakes the hand of a seated woman who holds a small child. This is perhaps a
husband (in the garb of a haruspex) bidding farewell to his wife and child. 256 Another man steps
forth from the second arch, and this figure has been interpreted as Aita coming to greet the
deceased. Between the arches, two Vanths holding torches are present. On the right hand side of
the urn, the figure of Charu, recognizable by his hammer, is present. Above Charu, near the top
of the arch is a dog-headed demon. Corresponding figures may have been present on the
opposite side of the urn as a torso is preserved near the top of the left arch, but the head of this
figure is missing. Even though no mythological narrative is present in this image, the purpose of
the dog-headed demon is likely the same. He appears along with Charu and Vanth, and thus we
may infer he is one of the many Etruscan demons present at the transition between life and death.
Two of the many figures present on this urn are pertinent to the discussion of wolf gods:
the animal-headed figure in the upper right hand corner of the urn, and a tall man wearing a fur
cap who emerges from the right arch. The latter figure has been identified as Aita by Haynes,
and this seems likely due to the cap he wears and his position under the right arch. 257 The
underworld context and the elongated snout of the animal-headed figure indicate that this second
creature is a wolf hybrid. It is difficult to determine the identity of this hybrid. He may be Aita-
Calu. The Etruscans have no qualms about duplicating a figure in a scene, or depicting different
253
Witt 1971, 200. Isis’ cult was one of the most popular mystery cults in antiquity, and one component of mystery
cults was the revelation of sacred and secret doctrine. The wearing of jackal masks by priests of the gods surely
links the iconography directly to rituals practiced by the priests and perhaps even beliefs held by the initiates. Along
similar lines, Smelik and Hemelrijk (1984, 1968) suggest that animal worship, which may seem ludicrous at first
may be a “symbol of hidden wisdom.” Again, this seems to follow with the syncretization of the religious figures of
Hermes and Anubis.
254
Griffiths (1975, 198) notes that priests of Anubis donned masks in the shape of a jackal’s head.
255
Brunn and Körte (1872-1916, III.118-20) provide no information concerning the provenance of this urn.
256
Brunn and Körte 1872-1916, III.119.
257
Haynes 2000, 342; De Ruyt (1934, 84) remarks that the cap worn by this figure does not resemble the wolf-cap
present in either the Tomb of Orcus or the Golini Tomb.
54

aspects of the same god on one object, and so this figure might be the therianthropic counterpart
to the anthropomorphic god. 258 Even so, I am not convinced that the dog-headed figure is Aita-
Calu, since he is relegated to a subsidiary position on this urn, much like the other death demons,
the Vanths. I would instead group this urn along with Figs. III.10-16 as an example of the lupine
iconography of Faunus, which will be discussed shortly. If we relate the wolf demon to a lupine
aspect of the god Faunus, the problem of identifying him is solved, for he is differentiated from
Aita-Calu by being a second, individualized chthonic deity or one of a multitude of chthonic
divinities, the Fauni.
The use of the wolf skin in the iconography of underworld divinities, while absent in
Greece, was not peculiar to the Etruscans in Italy. The Samnites acknowledged the god of Mt.
Soracte, Apollo Soranus (Etruscan uri), 259 who was in turn associated with the Latin Dis Pater
(and sometimes Veiovis 260 ), as a lupine god of the underworld. 261 Apollo- uri was worshipped
in the Southern Sacred Area at the site of Pyrgi, at Tarquinia in conjunction with Selvans, at
Vulci, Bettona, Perugia, and other locations. 262 This is one case in which the practice of treating
the deities of the whole of Italy seems particularly useful and justified as Apollo Soranus is
worshipped by Romans, Samnite, and Etruscans. He is a Pan-Italic divinity. Vergil briefly
mentions the rites of the Hirpi Sorani in the Aeneid.
258 Hostetter (1978, 264) notes the “iconographical symmetry” of the celestial and infernal Tinia on a bronze handle
from Spina. Charu(n) as noted in Chapter III is also duplicated on many objects.
259 Our knowledge of uri’s nature is limited, but this seems to be the Etruscan name for this aspect of Apollo. See
Colonna (1994, 345-75) for the fullest description of this god. Haynes (2000, 182) notes that uri is paired with
Cav(a)tha, a solar goddess, at Pyrgi. At this sanctuary, Cav(a)tha takes on a chthonic aspect.
260 Veiovis is yet another shadowy figure associated with the early days of Rome, in particular, Romulus and the
band of outlaws which he drew to him in the asylum. Two temples were dedicated to this god in Rome, one was
“inter duos lucos” (in the saddle of the Capitoline hill) and the other on the Tiber Island. Beard, North, and Price
(1998, 89) note that the standard interpretations of the nature of Veiovis is that he is either an “anti-Jupiter,” i.e.
malevolent and chthonic as opposed to the helpful sky god, or a youthful Jupiter. Kerényi (1959, 58) refers to him
as a youthful Apollo associated with the Underworld and the cypress tree. He may also be associated with a Gallic
god taken over by the Romans and given a Latin name. It is interesting to note that the temple dedicated on the
Tiber Island is associated with a shrine to Faunus.
261 Miller (1939, 37) notes the Greek veneration of a lupine Apollo, Apollo Lykaios, who is an averter of the wolf
and a protector of herdsmen. In this guise, the wolf is Apollo’s companion. One must wonder if Aita/Calu and
Apollo Soranus/ uri were conceptualized as separate divinities if they can both be syncretized with Dis Pater as the
lord of the underworld.
262 Colonna 1994, 355. Colonna (1994, 355, 361) also connects uri to Tinia Calusna at Orvieto because uri can be
worshipped as Apa uri, or Father uri, which is reminiscent of Dis Pater, the name Servius gives to this god in his
commentary on Aeneid XI.785. Lastly, Colonna (1994, 363-5) argues for the syncretization of uri with Veiovis.
As will be demonstrated later in this chapter, both uri and Selvans can be connected to wolves. The link between
uri and Selvans at Tarquinia thus seems all the more significant. Colonna (1994, 372) suggests that uri’s
association with Selvans is an attempt to make uri into a helpful guardian as opposed to a frightful king of the
dead.
55

Finally seizing the moment, Arruns 263 hurled his spear
From the ambush and called upon the gods with this prayer:
Greatest of gods, Apollo, guardian of holy Soracte,
Whom we, before all others, worship, for whom the burning pine
Is fed in a heap, and for whom we worshippers walk
Through the midst of fire supported by our piety and
Press our feet on many live coals… 264
Vergil’s mention of Apollo Soranus refers only to the Hirpi’s rite of walking through fire; there
is no mention of wolves. Servius, however, points out that the priests were called the Hirpi, or
wolf-men since hirpus is the Samnite word for wolf, due to their ritual of an animal masquerade.
Servius recounts a story in which the Hirpi dressed as wolves in order to drive away a pestilence,
which they brought upon themselves by following a pack of wolves to their lair after the
creatures had stolen a sacrifice to the god Dis Pater. 265 In this context, Apollo is shown in his
traditional role as the bringer and averter of disease, one of the earliest guises he took in both
Greece and Italy. 266
Apollo’s lupine guise has stimulated much controversy, 267 but it may seem more natural
given the chthonic associations of Apollo’s son, Aesculapius, who is closely linked to the
serpent, and Leto’s taking the form of a wolf for twelve days while she was pregnant with
Apollo. 268 Also, the wolf’s dualistic nature as both a friend and enemy to man is mirrored in
Apollo’s capacity to both inflict and cure disease. 269 Unfortunately, this is the extent of our
knowledge of this cult of Apollo. We do, however, possess one more reference to a connection
between the Samnites and wolves, and that is through the name of two Samnite tribes, the
Hirpini and the Lucani. Both of these tribal names mean “wolf-men” and were acquired by the
Samnites after their founding a settlement to which they were led by a wolf during the Samnite
263 It is interesting to note that the character calling on Apollo Soranus is an Etruscan.
264 Verg. Aen. XI.783-8. Latin Text taken from Virgil Aeneid 7-12, The Minor Poems, Vol. 2, edited by G.P.
Goold, Loeb Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1998, p. 288. (Translation by Author.)
telum ex insidiis cum tandem tempore capto / concitat et superos Arruns sic voce precatur: / 'summe deum, sancti
custos Soractis Apollo, / quem primi colimus, cui pineus ardor acervo / pascitur, et medium freti pietate per ignem /
cultores multa premimus vestigia pruna…
265 Servius Ad Aeneid 11.785.
266 Burkert (1985, 145-7) points out Apollo’s role in the Iliad as the bringer and averter of pestilence.
267 Miller 1939, 36.
268 Aris. Hist. An. 580a14. Leto disguised herself as a wolf in order to escape Hera’s anger over Zeus’ philandering
behavior.
269 In his capacity to bring plague and diseased, Apollo is also associated with the mouse as Apollo Smintheus.
56

practice of the ver sacrum. 270 One is reminded of the Hirpi Sorani’s pursuit of the wolves who
had stolen their sacrifice.
These Italic priests and tribes were not the only wolf-men of classical antiquity; stories of
men physically taking on the shape of a wolf also emerge from classical literature. By looking at
myths and tales related to lycanthropes, we may gain a further understanding of the rituals
practiced by the priests. 271 The story of Lycaon was adopted by the Romans and preserves the
tale of the first werewolf, or versipellis “skin changer,” in which Jupiter punishes Lycaon for
attempting to serve him human flesh as a meal.
But at the same time, Lycaon set out a table, I with my vengeful flame
Brought the house down on household gods worthy of such a master;
Lycaon himself fled and finding the silent fields
Howls and tries to speak in vain: from itself
His mouth gathers foam and with his usual desire for slaughter
He turns against the flock and even now he rejoices in bloodshed.
His clothes change into shaggy fur, and his arms into legs.
He becomes a wolf and preserves traces of his old form,
The same grey hair, the same savage face,
The same eyes burn, and his countenance is that of bestial fury. 272
In this passage, Jupiter curses Lycaon by transforming him into a wolf so that his savage and
bestial inner nature is reflected by his outer form. This myth may be meant to explain why the
practice of lycanthropy is associated with the cults of both Lycaean Zeus and Apollo and their
worship on Mt. Lycaon in Arcadia. (The resemblances between this Apollo and the Apollo of
Mt. Soracte can surely be no coincidence.) Pausanias records the practices of these werewolf
cults in his Guide to Greece.
For example, they say that since the time of Lykaion, some man becomes a wolf
at the sacrifice of Lykaion Zeus, but that the change is not for the whole of his
life. When he is a wolf, if he abstains from eating human flesh, he again takes on
270 Richardson 1997, 93. For the Hirpini see Salmon 1989, 225-35.
271 Buxton (1964, 67) would separate werewolfism from lycanthropy by distinguishing between the “belief that
people are able to turn into wolves” and a “psychotic disorder according to which one believes that one has oneself
turned into a wolf.” This delineation seems unnecessary, and throughout this work, I shall refer to both as
lycanthropy.
272 Ov. Met. I.230-9. Latin Text taken from Ovid Metamorphoses Books I-VIII, Vol. 3, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 199, p. . (Translation by Author.)
quod simul inposuit mensis, ego vindice flamma / in domino dignos everti tecta penates; / territus ipse fugit
nactusque silentia ruris / exululat frustraque loqui conatur: ab ipso / colligit os rabiem solitaeque cupidine caedis /
vertitur in pecudes et nunc quoque sanguine gaudet. / in villos abeunt vestes, in crura lacerti: / fit lupus et veteris
servat vestigia formae; / canities eadem est, eadem violentia vultus, / idem oculi lucent, eadem feritatis imago est.
57

the shape of a man, from that of a wolf, after nine years, but if he should taste
human flesh, he stays a beast forever. 273
Pliny the Elder also echoes this complex in a description of the werewolves of Arcadia; no doubt
Pausanias and Pliny share sources.
Euanthes, not scorned among Greek authors, writes that the Arcadians
traditionally choose someone from the family of a certain Anthius by lot who is
led to a marsh in that region and hanging his clothes on an oak tree, he crosses
the marsh and goes off into deserted areas and is changed into a wolf, and, lives
with the rest of the same kind for nine years. If in this time he abstains from
human flesh, he returns to that same marsh, and, when he has crossed it again, he
recovers his old form, with nine years of age added to his original appearance;
and in addition to this Euanthes records the more amazing detail that he gets the
same clothes back! 274
Ritual lycanthropy, such as this, seems to share similar elements from culture to culture.
Herodotos records the practices of the Neuri, a werewolf tribe who also become wolves on a
more temporary basis.
For the Scythians, and the Greeks living in Scythia, say that once a year each one
of the Neuri become wolves for a few days and then return again to their
previous forms. Now, I cannot believe this tale; but even so they tell it and swear
it is true. 275
Furthermore, in Petronius’ Satyricon appears a werewolf story that preserves common elements
of the lycanthropic ritual.
273 Paus. 8.2.6. Greek Text taken from Pausanias Description of Greece III Books VI, VII, VIII (Chaps. i-xxi), Loeb
Classical Library, Vol. 3, edited by G.P. Goold, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1988, p. 352.
(Translation by Author.)
C ) 1 && ) 4 & B4 7 ) * < 2 @ C(
>( && >( - D( A &' C ( CT # & 3 8 ( 4 ( i A ,
( C A & ( , C e ,O , o (7 , ) C( p . B, 9
W ) m' & (7 ) A ? A " , " 7 i * 4 K M . c (
< " C & , 7 4 ) C( A ' , #
274 Plin. NH 8.81. Latin Text taken from Pliny Natural History Books 8-11, Vol. 3, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997, p. 58, 60. (Translation by Author.)
Euanthes inter auctores Graeciae non spretus scribit Arcadas tradere ex gente Anthi cuiusdam sorte familiae lectum
ad stagnum quoddam regionis eius duci vestituque in quercu suspenso tranare atque abire in deserta transfigurarique
in lupum et cum ceteris eiusdem generis congregari per annos IX; quo in tempore si homine se abstinuerit, reverti ad
idem stagnum et, cum tranaverit, effigiem recipere, ad pristinum habitum addito novem annorum senio, addit
quoque fabulosius eandem reciperare vestem!
275 Hdt. IV.105.2. Greek Text taken from Herodotos Books III-IV, Loeb Classical Library, Vol. 2, edited by J.
Henderson, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1995, p. 306. (Translation by Author.)
& E . q " ;% &&@ " C e q e ' " 8 ( * ( U 4 p
r s ( & ( , S ( +&, ( c ( + , " C( t . , # C )
& ( , 7 & ) ) u 7 + ) & (#
58

My master happened to have left for Capua to take care of some odds and ends.
Seizing the opportunity, I persuade my guest to come with me to the fifth
milestone. He was a soldier and strong as hell. We got our asses moving at cock
crow; the moon was shining like it was noon. We came to the tombstones, and
my friend began to crap right on the headstones. I sat down, and, singing,
counted the stars. As I looked back at my companion, he stripped off his clothes
and put them all on the side of the road. My heart was in my throat, I stood
frozen like a dead man. He pissed in a circle around his clothes, and immediately
became a wolf! Don’t think I’m kidding; I wouldn’t lie about this for any
amount of fortune. But, as I was saying, after he turned into a wolf, he began to
howl and fled into the woods. 276
Common components of these tales include the symbolic leaving behind of clothing (the
trappings of civilization), the adoption of the form of a wolf (by donning a wolf-skin or by
transformation into the animal), the isolation of the lycanthrope from society during which time
he lives as a wild beast, and an eventual return and reintegration into society. Lycanthropic
episodes from other cultures preserve some of these same elements such as in the Norse Saga of
the Volsungs in which Sigmund and Sfinjotli don mystical wolf-skins and are transformed into
wolves. 277 The transformation into a wolf appears to be one way in which man satisfies, or
perhaps rather pacifies his animal nature.
I would further compare it to Bacchic ritual in which there is a similar abandonment of
civilization and a connection to a wild, ecstatic state. 278 These rituals function to mediate
between nature and culture, an action that is corroborated by Buxton’s statement, “The wolf
stands for one who by his behavior has set himself beyond humanity.” 279 Buxton goes so far as
to suggest that the Arcadian lycanthropes represent a class of young men who underwent a rite of
276 Petron. Sat. 62. Latin Text taken from Petronius Satyricon Seneca Apocolocyntosis, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997, p. 134, 136. (Translation by Author.)Forte
dominus Capuam exierat ad scruta [scita] expedienda. Nactus ego occasionem persuadeo hospitem nostrum, ut
mecum ad quintum miliarium veniat. Erat autem miles, fortis tanquam Orcus. Apoculamus nos circa gallicinia; luna
lucebat tanquam meridie. Venimus inter monimenta: homo meus coepit ad stelas facere; sedeo ego cantabundus et
stelas numero. Deinde ut respexi ad comitem, ille exuit se et omnia vestimenta secundum viam posuit. Mihi anima
in naso esse; stabam tanquam mortuus. At ille circumminxit vestimenta sua, et subito lupus factus est. Nolite me
iocari putare; ut mentiar, nullius patrimonium tanti facio. Sed, quod coeperam dicere, postquam lupus factus est,
ululare coepit et in silvas fugit.
277 Saga of the Volsungs Section 8.
278 The Maenads also perform a change of costume in which they don the dappled fawn skin or nebris. We should
not necessarily interpret this custom as indicating a transformation of a woman into a deer, but the wearing of
animal skins is an indicator of the liminal nature of the Maenads. Bacchic rites are also performed on a famous, or
rather infamous, mountain peak, Cithairon, and after a period of ecstasy, the worshippers are reintegrated into
society. Dodds (1960, xiv) notes that during this period of ecstasy, the participants in the ritual have their
personalities actually replaced by the god Dionysos.
279 Buxton 1994, 69.
59

passage, 280 which would accord with other rites of renewal and rebirth in ancient religions. The
shedding of humanity and rites in which a youth undergoes a major change are both liminal in
nature. 281 A second way in which the wolf and werewolf are used to symbolize the other and
liminality is through their association with criminals, outsiders, and outlaws. 282 M. Midgley has
noted that man projects vice, evil, and wickedness onto the wolf more so than on any other
animal. 283 It has also been noted that the ancients observed both the communal nature of the
wolf pack and the phenomenon of the “lone wolf,” which was then used as a symbol of exile and
separation from the community. 284 It is possibly the observation of the lone wolf’s behavior that
contributed to the development of the werewolf myth, for Aristotle observed that it was only the
lone wolf that ate men. 285
Connections between the wolf and the gods Aita and Apollo are made clear by lupine
iconography, religious rituals, and tales of werewolves, but traditions of wolf-priests and
lycanthropy were not limited to these two deities. I would assert, as others have done in the past,
that both Faunus and Silvanus also possess a lupine nature. Even more than Aita and Apollo
Soranus, Faunus and Silvanus underwent a process of syncretization and are sometimes difficult
to separate; thus they must be dealt with together. By examining the evidence indicating a
connection between Faunus and wolves, the syncretization of Faunus with Silvanus, and Ovid’s
account of a myth in which Faunus plays a central role, I advance my own hypothesis of Faunus’
lupine nature for which there is an Italian literary tradition.
The god Faunus is generally taken as a Latin equivalent of the Greek god Pan. While this
connection is predominant after the age of Augustus, the matter is not a simple one. 286 Evidence
indicates that Faunus was, in his earliest incarnation, a wolf-man hybrid, not a goat-man hybrid
280
Buxton 1994, 71.
281
Eliade (1972, 5-7) notes that the transformation of a young man into a soldier is accompanied by the symbolic
transformation into a predatory animal, oftentimes a wolf.
282
Eliade 1972, 3-4.
283
Midgley 2001, 182.
284
Buxton 1994, 63. Buxton (1994, 62) notes that cooperation among wolf packs was also recognized by the
ancient Greeks. See also Eliade 1972, 4.
285
Aris. Hist. An. 488b17. Buxton (1994, 62) suggests that any attack on a man was due to the limited availability
of other prey.
286
Pan was adopted by the Romans, and I shall discuss the caprid nature of Faunus and his links with Pan in the next
chapter. Holleman (1974, 146) sees the reign of Augustus as a pivotal point in the history of the Lupercalia.
According to his opinions, Augustus tamed the Lupercalia and sublimated many of its darker aspects. Schilling
(1992, 127) asserts that “In the third century B.C.E , the Latin interpretation of Pan was not Faunus, but Silvanus.”
This distinction is not clear as Faunus and Silvanus were closely tied in Roman religion. What it may indicate,
though, is that Pan and Faunus were not simply mirror images of one another.
60

like Pan. This evidence comes from his association with the Lupercalia, the etymologies of the
name Faunus, and the syncretization of Faunus with other divinities.
That Faunus is the god worshipped in the Lupercalia is an assertion of Ovid and several
modern scholars. 287 Since it was one of the earliest festivals of the Romans, the Lupercalia went
through numerous changes throughout the Roman Republic and Empire, and even the ancient
sources disagree on the details of the rituals. 288 The “final” form of the festival seems to involve
two groups of youths, either naked or wearing the skins of sacrificed goats, who run a course
around the city of Rome on February 15, all the while striking the women of the city to induce
fertility. 289 It is interesting that Plutarch mentions that a dog is sacrificed in this ritual as well,
suggesting a link between this festival and the underworld, since dogs are typically sacrificed to
chthonic divinities. 290 The Lupercal itself was thought to be a cave that also served not only as
the location in which Romulus and Remus were sheltered and suckled by the she-wolf but also as
a gate to the underworld, reinforcing this notion of the involvement of a chthonic divinity. 291 A
further indication that this ritual is associated with such a deity has been noted by W. Barr, who
states that the structure of Horace Ode I.4 demonstrates a link between the festival of Faunus and
the Parentalia, a festival related to the spirits of the dead that was celebrated shortly after the
Lupercalia in the same month of February. 292 In fact, February seems to be a nexus for such
religious rites related to the underworld, fertility, and purification. 293
Plutarch’s mention of the sacrifice of a dog is suggestive in relation to the costumes of
the Luperci. What is interesting is that when Plutarch mentions the ritual of donning the skins of
the sacrificial animals, he does not specify that it is only the goat skin that is worn. W.
Mannhardt hypothesizes that the two collegia of youths who ran through the city may have worn
the goat and dog skin, respectively; 294 perhaps this version of the festival occurred early in the
287 Wiseman 1995a, 2; see also Parker 1997, 98, n.10.
288 Wiseman 1995b, 82. Basing his conclusion on the disparity of the ancient testimony, North (2000, 50) uses the
Lupercalia as an example of a ritual that could contain many different meanings; there is no one single way to define
the character of the Lupercalia.
289 Wiseman 1995b, 80-1.
290 Plut. Rom. XXI.5. One such deity who received dogs as a sacrifice was the goddess Hekate; see Reitler 1949, 30.
291 Holleman 1974, 98. The emphasis on the Lupercal seems in line with the practices of early Etruscan and Roman
religion which were focused on natural, geographical features. This is one more indication that the Lupercalia
belongs to the earliest strata of Roman religion.
292 Barr 1962, 5-11.
293 Holleman (1974, 114-8) further notes that the story of Tacita Muta, the mother of the Lares, coincides with the
Lupercalia and Parentalia in the Fasti. This is yet one more tale related to the dead.
294 Mannhardt 1884, 101.
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history of the Lupercalia and the wearing of the goat skin may be a later development. 295 A.J.
Holleman goes so far as to suggest a wolf-masquerade and that the Luperci may have worn
masks in the form of wolves’ heads. 296 The Luperci do indeed bear some similarities to the
Hirpi, and etymological evidence may be of some use here. In his entry on Faunus in Roman
and European Mythologies, R. Schilling states that the epithet Lupercus, which is applied to
Faunus in his connection to the Lupercalia by Justin, 297 surely means, “wolf-man,” and, as
mentioned earlier, this is what the priests of this festival were called, the Luperci or wolf-men. 298
When one considers that there were priests and priestesses respectively named the Tauroi and
Arktoi in Greece, who were copies of their gods, it seems safe to conclude that the wolf-men of
Rome were meant to copy a wolf deity. 299
The epithet Lupercus also bears some analysis. It seems likely that the name Lupercus is
the Latin equivalent of the Greek name Lykaios, which may in turn connect Faunus with Pan
Lykaios 300 and the werewolf cults of Arcadia. 301 Augustine, following Varro, believes this to be
the case as he states in City of God. 302 It is possible that we should view Lupercus as one aspect
of the god Faunus in much the same way that Tinia Calusna, the chthonic Tinia, is one aspect of
the celestial Tinia. 303 Thus perhaps we should interpret Faunus Lupercus as the more fearsome
aspect of an otherwise generally benevolent deity. A second link to werewolf cults can again be
found in the costuming of the Luperci. At some point in the history of the festival, the Luperci
may have run their circuit around the city of Rome in the nude. As noted earlier, the shedding of
clothes is a common component of werewolf stories, and there may be a connection between the
nudity of lycanthropes and the ritual nudity of the Luperci. 304 These notions must, however,
remain in the realm of speculation.
295
Fowler 1925, 317.
296
Holleman 1974, 31-3.
297
Justin Apol. XLIII.1.7.
298
Eliade (1972, 3) states, “The fact that a people takes its ethnic name from the name of an animal always has a
religious meaning. More precisely, the fact cannot be understood except as the expression of an archaic religious
concept.” Nevertheless, Schilling (1992, 126) tries to deny the lupine nature of Faunus and explain away the name
of his priests. Schilling’s brief article on Faunus is full of contradictory statements.
299
Altheim 1938, 207.
300
Wiseman 1995b, 85; see also Ov. Met. 221-39.
301
Buxton 1994, 67.
302
August. De civ. D. 18,17.
303
Hostetter (1978, 263-4) demonstrates the dual nature of Tina as celestial and infernal in his discussion of a bronze
handle from Spina.
304 Buxton 1994, 69.
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Further etymologies, both modern and ancient, may shed light on Faunus’ nature. In the
past, scholars have suggested that the name Faunus appears to be linked to wolves. In the article,
“Daunus/Faunus in Aeneid 12,” J.D. Noonan argues that the mythological names Daunus and
Faunus share the root, dhau-. This root implies a meaning of “to throttle or strangle” and has
been taken to mean “wolf or jackal” since these are two animals that throttle their prey. 305
Noonan is not alone. G. Radke, R. Coleman, and F. Bömer are among those who support this
assertion. 306
Two further attempts at explaining the meaning of the name, Faunus, are possible.
Neither of these seems to take away from the identification of Faunus as a wolf-man but instead
adds to a general description of the god. The name Faunus may have been linked to the verb
favere, to favor, in antiquity. We cannot be sure whether to take this as a “positive qualifier or a
euphemistic expression.” 307 In either case, this association could be used to tame this god much
as many other chthonic gods were. In Greece, the Furies become the Eumenides in an attempt to
make the avenging spirits into a force for good. In Rome, the Di Manes are considered “the
Good Gods” a euphemistic term used to describe the formless, shapeless mass of dead spirits
inhabiting the underworld. 308 This euphemistic etymology leads to a kinder, gentler Faunus.
Faunus’ shift from wolf-man to goat-man may be another occurrence of a complex,
dualistic nature of therianthropic deities as mentioned earlier in this chapter in relation to Apollo.
A rustic divinity is turned from the ravager of the flock into the protector of the flock by
changing his name or associating him with a new divinity. Either way, the shepherds would
have prayed to him for the same reason, the well being of their livestock. This could perhaps be
related to the ritual of the Lupercalia and the rites of Lycaean Pan. The priests of Faunus and
Pan are sometimes interpreted as those who avert the evil of the wolf and protect the flock. This
transition in iconography, and perhaps ritual meaning, had completed its course by the Augustan
305 Noonan 1993, 112-3.
306 Radke 1965, 119-21; Schilling 1992, 126; Holleman 1974, 56, n. 29. Coleman (1977, 182 n. 27) sums up
Faunus’ nature as follows. “In origin Faunus, whose name is cognate with Greek thos ‘jackal’, thaunon ‘wild beast’,
seems to have been an Italian forest-god, part man part wolf; hence his connection with the Lupercalia… In
humanized form he appears in legend as Faunus king of Latium and Daunus king of Apulia. The god was
assimilated to Pan and the satyrs, the goat replaced the wolf in his iconography, his more sinister aspects were
suppressed and he was pluralized. Fauni were often associated with nymphs. Besides their patronage of country life
and hunting they posses the power of prophecy.”
307 Schilling 1992, 127.
308 Phillips 1996, 916.
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Period in Rome as can be seen in art and in literature such as the Odes of Horace and much of
Ovid’s work. 309
The name of the god may also have been derived from the verb to speak, fari. 310 This
etymology offered by Varro, relates to the prophetic powers of the god and the great noises he
makes. In the Aeneid Book VII, Latinus seeks oracular advice from his father, Faunus,
concerning the wedding of his daughter Lavinia. 311 According to Cicero in the De Divinatione,
the fauni were also often heard making noise in the woods, particularly during battles. 312 Varro,
Vergil, and Cicero all point to the prophetic power of Faunus and the Fauni. 313 It may be that the
howls of wolves heard in the night were the strange noises that partly inspired this etymology.
Wolves are quite vocal at different times of the year and would, no doubt, have left more of an
impression on a listener than the bleating of goats. 314
This last reference is important for demonstrating the link between Faunus and Silvanus.
Livy’s account of the battle near the Arsian forest between the Etruscans and Romans records the
prodigy of a voice heard from the forest announcing that the Etruscans had lost one more man
than the Romans, who should be declared the victors. 315 Livy records this voice as belonging to
Silvanus, but here Silvanus is performing a function ascribed to the fauni by Cicero in the De
Divinatione. 316 These two pieces of evidence would not be enough to identify Faunus with
Silvanus by themselves, but there are other literary sources to support the identification. For
example, the Origo gentis Romanae of Pseudo-Aurelius Victor states, “The majority have said
that Faunus is the same as Silvanus from the woods, also the god Inuus, who is certainly Pan.” 317
309
The Odes of Horace that contain references to Faunus as the patron of shepherds are I.4, I.17, I.22, III.18. In
these poems, Faunus is mentioned as warding away wolves and sending the omen of the peaceful wolf. Noonan
(1993, 113) takes these references to mean that the god was inherently lupine in nature. Perhaps we can interpret the
peaceful wolf as an epiphany of the god.
310
Varro Ling. VII.36.
311
Verg. Aen. VII.80-6.
312
Cic. Div. I.101.
313
Palmer (1974, 79-83) notes that Faunus may also have granted his worshippers prophecies through the practice of
incubation, which was tied to chthonic powers.
314 For the details of wolf communication see Harrington and Asa 2003, 66-103.
315 Livy Peri. II.VII.2.
316 Cic. Div. I.XLV.101.
317 Pseudo-Aurelius Victor Origo Gentis Romanae III.6. Latin Text taken from Pseudo-Aurelius Victor, Les
Origines du Peuple Romain, edited by Jean-Claude Richard, Paris: Budé/Belles Lettres, 1983. (Translation by
Author.)
“Hunc Faunum plerique eundem Silvanum a silvis, Inuum deum, quidam etiam Pana esse dixerunt.” The name
Inuus presents its own complications. Holleman (1974, 96) notes that nightmares are characterized as hairy demons
that strangle their victims in their sleep.
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Silvanus is sometimes shown accompanied by a dog and is also syncretized with the Celtic gods,
Sucellus and Nodens, who were associated with death and canines. 318 An argument linking
Sucellus to a Dis Pater mentioned in Caesar’s Gallic Wars as the national god of the Celts was
made by Grenier. 319 A bronze statuette of Sucellus, ca. CE 14, represents this god as nude,
except for a wolf-skin (Fig. III.9). Richardson notes that this statuette is a Gallo-Roman version
of Silvanus and that he is a god of both forests and the underworld. 320 The presence of the wolf-
skin, not the typical iconography for Sucellus and likely borrowed from Silvanus, argues for a
closer association of the wolf with Silvanus. 321
Silvanus’ iconography is difficult to categorize due to its fluidity. P. Dorcey’s The Cult
of Silvanus: A Study in Roman Folk Religion is useful as a compilation of the archaeological and
literary evidence for the cult of Silvanus, but this text does not always follow its own doctrines.
Dorcey states that “Ancient deities were complex religious entities with many seemingly
unrelated or contradictory sides, overlapping more often than not with those of other
divinities.” 322 Yet when discussing the connections between the Latin Silvanus and the Etruscan
Selvans, he rules out any relationship between the two; one reason he does this is that Selvans is
often represented as a youth, and Silvanus is generally represented as aged. 323 Even so, he
concedes that Silvanus is sometimes represented as a young man as well. 324 Dorcey notes that
the relationship between Faunus and Silvanus seems to stretch back before the fourth century
BCE when Pan is introduced to Italy, 325 but that Silvanus does not appear to be linked to Pan
before the early second century BCE. 326 In general, the distinctions Dorcey creates to separate
Pan, Silvanus, and Faunus from each other seem arbitrary and adverse to the rule that deities may
possess diverse attributes and character.
The author of the Origo Gentis Romanae mentions the name of one more god, Inuus,
who is related to these other woodland deities. Livy also reports that Inuus was another name for
318
For Sucellus see Macmullen 2000, 91, Richardson 1977, 96, for Nodens see Green 1992, 199. Dorcey (1992, 58)
states that the evidence for linking Silvanus and Sucellus is inconclusive.
319
Grenier 1955-6, 131-3; Caes. B. Gall. 6.18.1.
320
Richardson 1977, 96.
321
Waites (1920, 250) notes a confusion between the Lares and Silvanus after mentioning that the Lares sometimes
wore the skins of dogs according to Plutarch.
322 Dorcey 1992, 14.
323 Dorcey 1992, 11-2.
324 Dorcey 1992, 16.
325 Dorcey 1992, 33.
326 Dorcey 1992, 42.
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Pan or Faunus, 327 but Inuus seems to have a more sinister aspect. Inuus, who could also be
multiplied to create Inui, was a god of nightmares who entered the dreams of sleeping women in
order to rape them. 328 These nightmares have been associated with the feeling of strangulation,
which returns us to the meaning of the root dhau- as “wolf” or “strangler.” The connection
between Faunus as Inuus and a demon of nightmares also fits with the chthonic character of
Faunus and his association with the Lupercalia. Holleman points out that the beginning and
ending of the course of the Lupercalia at the Lupercal could be interpreted as the loosing from
and returning to the underworld (the chthonic realm of the wolf) of the savage Luperci. 329
This evidence forms the basis for previous scholars’ attempts to link the gods Faunus and
Silvanus to wolves, and it would be wise not to rule out the interpretation of Faunus and Silvanus
as wolf-gods based only on their syncretic connections to the Greek god Pan. It must be
remembered that for the Etruscans and Romans, the nature of the gods was not static, and there
seems to have been a certain vagueness in their forms, nature, and attributes. 330 One may also
turn to the Egyptian prototype of animal worship in order to find gods who are represented by
more than one animal. The god Thoth, god of magic, knowledge, and countless other spheres of
influence, was often represented with the head of an ibis or in the form of an ibis; however, this
was not the sole animal associated with this god. He could also take the form of a baboon, and it
was possible for the god to appear several times, in different form, on one object. 331 We must be
careful not to forget that polyvalency is a common characteristic of pagan deities.
I would like to add two further pieces to the list of evidence for sustaining the lupine
nature of these gods. I believe that I have isolated a mythic narrative and an image that tell a tale
of the god Faunus. In literature, the myth appears in Ovid’s Fasti 3.291-326, and in art, it
appears on a series of Etruscan cinerary urns (Figs. III.10-12) featured in this study. These urns
have been known for some time, and there are several other interpretations that must first be
refuted before progressing to my own. These urns also demonstrate how one divinity may be
represented in all three categories of theriomorphic and therianthropic iconography: wholly in
the form of an animal, a human wearing an animal skin, and also a hybrid blending the anatomy
327 Livy 1.5.2
328 Holleman 1974, 95. August. De civ. D. 15.23, attributes this function of the god to Silvanus as well.
329 Holleman (1974, 98.) suggests that the Luperci were representatives of the dead ancestors of the Romans.
330 Pallottino 1975, 140. Faunus in particular possessed a vague nature. Besides a problem distinguishing between
his lupine or caprid nature, Babcock (1961, 15) notes that, by the time of Augustus, Faunus was the king of the
Latins, one of the race of Fauni, an oracular power, and also conflated with Pan.
331 Smelik and Hemelrijk 1984, 1861.
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of both humans and beasts. Because the urns all share similar elements, with variations
according to the execution of the artist, I will treat them as a group.
A wolf, wolf-man, or a man wearing a wolf-skin rises from a cylindrical feature, which is
probably a well. The figure is bound by a chain attached to the well or held by some of the other
figures that surround him. On almost every example, a bearded man stands above or near the
wolf-creature, emptying the contents of a patera onto the wolf-man with his right hand. He often
holds a sword in his left hand. To the left of, or surrounding, the bearded figure, are a number of
warriors bearing arms. A Vanth often appears in this scene standing above or near one of the
attendants or soldiers being attacked by the wolf-man. In several examples, an attendant is on
the ground dead or dying.
E. Simon argues that the bearded male wearing a cap and holding a patera is Sisyphos,
who has captured and chained Thanatos. 332 I believe that Simon’s idea is plausible, but it is not
the best choice of the possible interpretations. She identifies one of the figures in the scene as
Ares, the Greek god of war; however, there are no iconographic elements to distinguish this
warrior from any of the others on the ash urn. Another problem with this interpretation, which is
tied to a larger issue, is that Simon has sought a Greek solution to this Etruscan scene. As
mentioned in Chapter One, this trend is all too prevalent in the study of Etruscan myth. 333 While
not as many clearly identifiable Etruscan myths have survived as their Greek counterparts, the
Etruscans no doubt possessed a rich mythology of their own as is indicated by the great many art
objects which preserve visual narratives in addition to the myths recorded in Greek and Roman
texts. An Italian source for the scene on this urn may provide a better match given the number of
artifacts that feature the wolf-man and the significance of the wolf in Italy.
There is yet another interpretation of the scene on these urns, and it is the one that has
been most accepted by scholars even though it seems to me the least likely. This scene was
linked by H. Brunn and G. Körte to a passage in Pliny the Elder’s Natural History. 334
The annals record the memory of lightning being coerced or compelled by certain
rites and prayers. There is an old report in Etruria, concerning the coming of the
monster, called Olta and summoned by Porsenna, to the city of Volsinii after it
332 Simon 1997, 454, and Krauskopf 1987, 67. The tale of Sisyphus chaining of Death is not preserved in the Iliad
but in a scholium to Iliad 6.153 and in a fragment of Phrynicus (fr. 119 Jacoby). Hostetter (1978, 264) proposes that
these scenes may be the chaining of Aita-Calu, but he does not propose a narrative to accompany the scene. No
doubt this follows Simon’s interpretation but merely shifts the name from Greek to Etruscan.
333 De Grummond 2006a, xii.
334 Brunn and Körte 1872-1916, 16-24.
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had been devastated at the time when Porsenna was king. Before him, Lucius
Piso, an important author, records in his Annals I that this was first done more
wisely by Numa, a rite which Tullius Hostilius likewise copied but was struck by
lightning. 335
This passage mentions a monstrum called Olta. It does not, however, describe Olta in any way.
The only information to be gleaned from this passage is that Olta is somehow connected to
lightning and divination, and that the king Porsenna was involved in summoning or exorcising
him. At no point does this passage mention that Olta is a wolf-headed “monster.” “Monstrum”
can be translated as “portent;” it is not necessarily a strange and terrifying creature. Even though
there is no basis for assuming Olta to be a wolf-man and the entry in I rilievi delle urne etrusche
concerning these urns indicates that Brunn and Körte were not entirely convinced of this
association between text and image, 336 many scholars, e.g. J. Elliot, J. Heurgon, and J. Szilágyi
have accepted this identification and have used it to identify the other wolf-men in Etruria as
Olta. 337 This is an instance in which we have a hypothesis that has managed to slip into
scholarship as fact due to its age and the influence of the work in which it appeared. 338
Instead of these possibilities, I propose that these urns represent a mythologem found in
Fasti Book 3.291-326. In his poem concerning the Roman calendar, Ovid recounts a tale of the
Roman king Numa attempting to expiate a thunderbolt. The proper ritual is unknown to Numa,
and his wife Egeria advises him to seek out knowledge from the gods, Faunus and Picus, who are
native to the soil of Italy. She tells him that he must go to a spring at which these gods drink and
bind them in chains. Numa goes to the spring, offers the sacrifice of a sheep, and sets out bowls
of wine for them to drink. When the gods arrive, they take their fill of the wine and fall into a
drunken slumber. During their nap, they are shackled by Numa. When they rise from their
sleep, they struggle and fight to break free of the chains but are unsuccessful. Numa questions
them and receives the information he desired. 339 One can only speculate that this may be why
335 Plin. HN. 2.54.140. Latin Text taken from Pliny Natural History Books 1-2, Vol. 1, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997, p. 276,. (Translation by Author.)
Exstat annalium memoria sacris quibusdam et precationibus vel cogi fulmina vel inpetrari. vetus fama Etruriae est
inpenetratum, Volsinios urbem depopulatis agris subeunte monstro quod vocavere Oltam, evocatum a Porsina suo
rege. et ante eum a Numa saepius hoc factitatum in primo annalium suorum tradit L. Piso, gravis auctor, quod
imitatum parum rite Tullum Hostilium ietum fulmine.
336 The entry identifying this figure as Olta is punctuated with a question mark.
337 Elliott 1995, 17-33; Heurgon 1991, 1253-9; Szilágyi 1997, 35-7.
338 De Grummond 2006a, 14.
339 Ov. Fast. 3.291-326.
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Pliny refers to Numa as frequently practicing the rite of expiating lightning when discussing the
monstrum, Olta.
Working with the assumption that Faunus once possessed a lupine aspect and that it is
during the Augustan period that his depiction in art has completed its iconographical shift, this
narrative can be applied to the scene on the cinerary urns. As indicated by iconographical
elements that match the narrative from the Fasti, the urns capture one moment of Numa’s story
in which the god Faunus struggles to break free of his chains. The relevant passage is as follows.
“…But Picus and Faunus, both gods of Roman soil,
Will be able to relate the rite of purification, but
They will not tell without coercion, use chains to bind them as captives.”
Thus Egeria taught Numa by what trick they would be able to seize the gods.
There is a grove dark with the shade of holm-oaks under the Aventine,
Where you are able to say, on sight, “There is a divinity here.”
Grass is in the middle, and covered by green moss,
A cleft in the rock pours out a never-ending stream:
There Faunus and Picus were accustomed to drink alone.
King Numa came here and sacrificed a sheep at the spring,
And put out cups full of fragrant wine,
And when he did this, he hid himself in a cave.
The forest gods come to their accustomed spring
And they relieve their dry throats with much pure wine.
Sleep followed the wine, and Numa came forth from the icy cave
And he put chains on the sleeping ones’ hands.
As sleep left them, they tried to break the chains with a struggle.
The chains held the warring gods all the stronger.
Then Numa spoke, “Gods of the forest, forgive my deeds.
If you know wickedness is absent from my mind,
And show me how a thunderbolt can be expiated.” 340
Numerous narrative elements from this myth can be compared to parts of the scene on the
urns. The first is that the wolf-headed figure rises out of what seems to be a well. The scene in
340 Ov. Fas. 3.291-311. Latin Text taken from Ovid Fasti, Vol. 5, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb Classical Library,
Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996, p. 140, 142. (Translation by Author.)
sed poterunt ritum Picus Faunusque piandi / tradere, Romani numen utrumque soli. / nec sine vi tradent: adhibe tu
vincula captis.” / atque ita qua possint edidit arte capi. / lucus Aventino suberat niger ilicis umbra, / quo posses viso
dicere “numen inest.” / in medio gramen, muscoque adoperta virenti / manabat saxo vena perennis aquae: / inde fere
soli Faunus Picusque bibebant. / huc venit et fonti rex Numa mactat ovem, / plenaque odorati disponit pocula
Bacchi, / cumque suis antro conditus ipse latet. / ad solitos veniunt silvestria numina fontes / et relevant multo
pectora sicca mero. / vina quies sequitur; gelido Numa prodit ab antro / vinclaque sopitas addit in arta manus. /
somnus ut abscessit, pugnando vincula temptant / rumpere: pugnantes fortius illa tenent. /tum Numa: “di nemorum,
factis ignoscite nostris / si scelus ingenio scitis abesse meo, / quoque modo possit fulmen monstrate piari.”
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Ovid takes place at a water source or spring (perennis aquae). 341 Previous interpretations of this
scene have labeled this stone ring a gate to the underworld. This interpretation is not in conflict
with the lupine iconography of a chthonic Faunus since the Lupercal, as mentioned earlier, was
considered to be a gate to the underworld. 342 A kingly figure stands above the wolf-man
emptying a patera, possibly an offering of wine, over the divinity. 343 Instead of the sacrifice of a
sheep and the setting out of wine in bowls (rex Numa mactat ovem / plenaque odorati disponit
pocula Bacchi), 344 which is present in Ovid, we are shown a libation that is perhaps made as a
preparation for sacrifice. In either case, the kingly figure may be Ovid’s Numa with his
followers (cum suis). 345
One of the most important details in Ovid’s account for my interpretation is that when
Faunus awakens, he is chained and attempts to gain his freedom through combat (somnus ut
abcessit, pugnando vincula temptant / rumpere: pugnantes fortius illa tenent). 346 On the urns, as
Faunus attacks one of Numa’s men, he is restrained by the others who hold tight to his chains
and/or is bound to the well to hamper his movement. 347 In some instances, one of the men has
been slain, and this may account for the presence of Vanth. As mentioned earlier, Etruscan
artists were wont to insert Vanth into scenes in which someone had died or was bound to die.
Her appearance on a vessel containing the ashes of the dead should not surprise anyone even if
she is not present in Ovid’s narrative.
Obviously, there are some differences between the account given by Ovid and the scene
depicted on the urns. As mentioned earlier, by the time of Ovid, Faunus had already been
syncretized with Pan, the goat-man. In Ovid’s account, Faunus is described as shaking his horns
(quatiens cornua). 348 Also, there is no Picus present in the scene on the urns. 349 However,
341
Ov. Fas. 3.298.
342
Brunn and Körte 1872-1916, 21.
343
The elements of a kingly figure visiting a prophetic god at a water-source located in the deepest woods with a
chthonic connection appear in Verg. Aen.VII.80-6 when Latinus visits Faunus at a spring from which dark vapors
rise out of the earth. Vapors do seem to be a common component of oracle myths as they may have been the source
of the prophetic powers of the Delphic oracle.
344
Ov. Fas. 3.300.
345
Ov. Fas. 3.302.
346
Ov. Fas. 3.307-8.
347
The motif of capturing or binding a prophet to obtain his secrets occurs in literature and art. An Etruscan mirror
in the British Museum showing a scene from the myths of the Vipenas brothers depicts them capturing the seer
Cacu, and, in Virgil’s Eclogues, the woodland god Silenus, a figure remarkably similar to Faunus, is chained with
wreaths of flowers to coerce song from him. adgressi - nam saepe senex spe carminis ambo / luserat – inciunt ipsis
ex vincula sertis. (Verg., Ecl. VI.18-9).
348
Ov. Fas. 3.312.
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Ovid’s association of Faunus and Picus is provocative. Both are descendants of Mars according
to some sources, and, if Faunus was a wolf-man at one point, the two animals sacred to Mars, the
wolf and the woodpecker, are paired together in Ovid’s account. 350 What we probably have in
Ovid’s account is the reflection of an earlier myth (approximately 150 years separate urns and
text) that Ovid has adapted for his own purposes in his poetic calendar.
Changing an Etruscan myth to fit a Roman context is typical of the way Ovid uses myths.
Ovid’s myths are highly “literary” in nature; he is not merely compiling an anthology in works
such as the Metamorphoses and the Fasti. 351 We should also keep in mind that myths were by
no means standardized, as Kirk states, “Myths are not uniform, logical and internally consistent;
they are multiform, imaginative and loose in their details. Moreover their emphases can change
from one year, or generation, to the next.” 352 This dictum is often forgotten when comparing
visual evidence to literature, a problem addressed by Small in her text The Parallel Worlds of
Classical Art and Text. Small outlines several difficulties in relating a myth to a particular
literary source: artists did not need to rely on a text when creating an image, there was no
“original” source for a myth, and, in antiquity, imitation had little to do with “mimetic
fidelity.” 353
A bronze ash urn (Fig. III.13) that dates to the end of the 8th C BCE has been identified
as “the best candidate for mythical subject matter in the earliest Etruscan period.” 354 This may
be the earliest version of this story on an object that served the same function as the urns of the
3 rd C BCE. The similarity of the scenes is striking. The urn has a number of armed, naked,
ithyphallic warriors surrounding the central figure and moving clockwise around it. This central
349 The absence of Picus may not be such a hindrance to identifying this scene as the chaining of Faunus. Oleson
(1975, 192) notes the absence of Polyxena from the ambush of Troilos in the Tomb of the Bull, and so this is
referred to as a variation. The scene remains accepted as the ambush of Troilos.
350 Dion. Hal. Ant. Rom.I.31.2. Dionysius states that Evander and his Arcadian followers were welcomed into Italy
by Faunus, a native Italian, who was in control of the lands they wished to settle. Immediately after the Arcadian
presence was established, they set up a temple to Lycaean Pan. Altheim (1937, 67, 226), in his discussion of Mars
as a bull-god, remarks that Faunus belongs to the circle of Mars and further links the wolf and the woodpecker in the
forms of Faunus and Picus in his discussion of the woodpecker god. Rosivach (1980, 143) vigorously asserts that
this story of Faunus and Picus has nothing to do with the god Mars because of the playful nature of the account. I
disagree and would point out that Ovid often treats serious subjects playfully.
351 Barchiesi (1997, 47-51) makes this quite clear in relation to the Fasti, but Ovid’s “playful” nature can be seen in
all of his works.
352 Kirk 1974, 29.
353 Small 2003, 156-9.
354 De Grummond 2006a, 2.
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figure has been identified as a wolf or wolf-man. 355 This wolf-man is bound by a chain at the
neck, and its hands, or paws, are raised in a threatening manner. There is no doubt in my mind
that this represents the same story as the urns. De Grummond also notes the ritual character of
this scene. 356 The importance of the practice of expiating lightning within Etruscan religion has
been demonstrated by S. Weinstock. 357 That the earliest recognizable mythic narrative in
Etruscan art may be linked to a religious ritual that makes up part of the Etrusca disciplina 358
should surprise no one.
With this material in the background, we can now attempt to identify the subject of
several artifacts that depict a god wearing a wolf-skin or a therianthrope. The first of these is a
Pontic plate by the Tityos Painter, dated ca. 520 BCE (Fig. III.14). In Roma: Romulo, Remo, e
la fondazione della città, L. Cerchiai designates the wolf-headed figure in the tondo of the plate
as Faunus. 359 Around the rim of the plate is a scene convincingly interpreted as Herakles
attacking the centaur Nessos as the latter pursues Deianeira. Cerchiai suggests a mythological
context for the images on the plate. He links the running wolf-man to the scene of Herakles,
Nessos, and Deianeira with the burlesque story of Faunus’ failed attempt to rape Omphale. 360 He
makes this connection because of a common theme of “the chase.” It must be admitted that the
visual elements of the decoration on this plate do not clarify the link between the wolf-man and
the other figures present in the outer zone of decoration. The wolf-man is oriented in the same
direction as Herakles, Nessos, and Deianeira, moving counterclockwise, but his position in the
tondo isolates him from the other narrative. It is difficult to say if he is meant to be viewed as
somehow related to the scene surrounding him, or, if he belongs to a separate mythological
context. Perhaps we are meant to interpret him as an apotropaic in the manner of gorgoneia that
appear in other drinking vessels.
The story of Faunus’ misadventure with Hercules and Omphale occurs in Ovid’s
treatment of the Lupercalia in the Fasti as one aition for the nudity of the Luperci. 361 Cerchiai
355
De Grummond 2006a, 13; Elliott 1992, 20.
356
De Grummond 2006a, 14.
357
Wienstock 1951, 122-53.
358
The Etrusca Disciplina was a body of written knowledge which contained books on prophecy, interpreting
omens, the underworld, and other important religious doctrine. Unfortunately, no original Etruscan sources are
preserved for us, and we must rely on references to the Etruscan disciplina in Greek and Roman sources.
359
Cerchiai 2000, 226-7. See also Elliott 1995, 27 for an interpretation of this figure as the mysterious Olta.
360
Ov. Fas. 2.303-58.
361
I shall return to this myth in my discussion of the character of Faunus in the following chapter.
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theorizes that Faunus wants to chase Deianeira as he chased Omphale, 362 but this is not entirely
convincing even if the figure in the tondo can be identified as Faunus since the stories of
Omphale and Deianeira share no narrative elements in common. Perhaps we should instead
interpret the running wolf-man as an indication of the fate of the characters in the outer register
and read a chthonic symbolism into this figure. Nessos brings about his own death because he
attempts to rape Deianeira; Herakles slays him using arrows which had been dipped in the blood
of the Lernean Hydra. Deianeira in turn slays Herakles with a cloak soaked in Nessos’ poisoned
blood.
A terracotta statuette housed in the archaeological museum of Perugia (Fig. III.15) may
also be a representation of Faunus. 363 There are no narrative details that could lead to a secure
identification of this figure since the sculpture is merely a seated deity. The youthful god wears
only an animal skin and hunting boots. The identity of the animal skin is not entirely certain and
scholars have argued that it is either a wolf or a lion. The possibility that the skin is meant to be
that of a lion has led to the identification of this figure as Herakles, 364 but I would argue against
this identification, based on the similarity of this figure to the wolf-man on the urns, the absence
of Herakles’ club or bow, and my own observation of the skin, the physical features of which
(shape of head, snout, etc) appear more canine than leonine. If indeed the skin is that of a wolf,
then this figure is the lupine god of the Etruscans. An important detail mentioned by B.
Dozzini 365 in a brief discussion of this piece is that the hands of the god seem to make apotropaic
gestures. The left hand is in the shape of the manu cornuta and the right, although the fingers are
broken, seems to have had an extended middle finger.
A second interpretation of this iconography was proposed by A. Stenico, who suggests
that this statuette follows a pattern of iconography for the Lares as recorded by Plutarch, who
notes that the Lares can be clad in dog skins as well as accompanied by dogs. 366 Stenico’s
362 Cerchiai 2000, 226-7.
363 Dozzoni (1983, 79) notes one unusual detail is that a Latin artist, Caius Rufius Sigillator actually signed this
statuette and made his role in its sculpting clear by the use of the verb “finxit.”
364 Dozzini (1983, 79) identifies this figure as Herakles even though he identifies the skin as that of a mastiff.
365 Dozzini 1983, 79-80; Messerschmitt (1942, 206) suggests that this is a type of Hercules Epitrapezios, a seated
Herakles, after the model of Lysippos’ famous sculpture.
366 Stenico 1947, 75. Plut. Quaes. Rom. 51. Waites (1920, 250-2) discusses the possibility of presenting the Lares
as wearing dog skins following Plutarch but provides no examples of this iconography. She also notes that the
wearing of dog skins by the Lares may be part of their assimilation to Silvanus. In his discussion of the nature of the
Silvanus Lar agrestis, Palmer (1974, 116) makes the following statement, “Suffice it to recall for the moment that
the dedication to the Lares at Tor Tignosa was found in the place of Faunus’ oracle, and that Faunus is notoriously
73

suggestion is plausible, but due to the other appearances of the wolf-god in art and the lack of
any other examples of a Lar clad in a wolf-skin, I would argue for identifying the statuette as
Faunus based on the similarity of this figure to Fig. III.12. 367
In the case of the plate and the statuette we cannot say for certain which god is
represented. It could be any one of the wolf-deities discussed in this text. Because of my
hypothesis that Faunus is represented on the cinerary urns depicting a combat with a wolf-god
(Fig. III.10-12), I am inclined to suggest that both the plate and statuette are representations of
the god Faunus. The variance in iconography, a wolf-man on the plate and a god wearing a
wolf-skin in the statuette, can be compared to the varying appearance of the wolf-god on the
cinerary urns. The youth of the statuette, lacking a beard, may parallel the god depicted on the
terracotta urn from Perugia (Fig. III.12). Even so, the lack of a beard does not wholly secure the
identification of these two figures since Tinia is often beardless and youthful as opposed to his
Greek counterpart, Zeus who is regularly shown as an older, bearded male. 368 Youth may also
indicate that the statuette is a representation of Apollo Soranus or uri, but it is difficult to say
for sure since another of the statuette’s details, the hunting boots, may argue for identification as
a rustic deity, such as Faunus.
One last piece that bears discussion is a bronze figurine that defies easy explanation but
has been identified as Herakles due to iconography that makes use of an animal skin and a club-
like weapon (Fig. III.16). This identification is not certain, though, as the animal skin is not that
of a lion, but more likely a wolf, and the weapon could be a lagobolon. The wolf-skin takes the
form of a cap and stops at his shoulders; it does not extend down the back of the figure. If
indeed this figure carries a lagobolon, then the combination of wolf-skin and hunting stick
suggest Faunus instead of Herakles. The most curious characteristic of this figurine is that its
confused with Silvanus and the local deity, Inuus. Capella’s Lar Omnium Cunctalis “All Lar of All Things” may be
considered a rendition of Pan (=omne), who was the Romans’ Faunus or Silvanus. If he is Pan, he supplies an
analogue to the Silvanus Lar agrestis.”
367 Boyce (1937, 58) describes the “usual” type of painted Lar in lararia at Pompeii as “wearing elaborate girded
tunics with loose folds which fly out from their bodies as they dance on the tips of their toes” and holding a rhyton
and/or a situla. He makes no mention of the convention of a Lar clad in a wolf-skin. Orr (1978, 1568-9) describes a
similar iconography and also makes no mention of wolf skins.
368 De Grummond 2006a, 12. When discussing the iconography of Aesculapius, Edelstein and Edelstein (1945, 219)
point out that chronology and local variation can also determine whether or not a god is depicted as bearded or clean
shaven. Thus, the presence of or lack of a beard does not secure the identity of the god.
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head has been turned 180 degrees. 369 This twisting of the head has been interpreted by Faraone
as a common feature of a binding spell, and thus the statue represents the curtailing of this god’s
power. 370 If we accept Minto’s identification of this figure as Herakles, 371 we must ask ourselves
why he is “bound” in such a way. Faraone notes that Herakles was not only a savior but also one
who was thought of as a “sacker of cities,” 372 but this god’s wolf-skin argues against the
identification of this figurine as Greece’s greatest hero. (In Etruria, Herakles also seems to have
a primarily positive aspect.) If not Herakles, in light of the evidence for the prominence of wolf-
gods in Etruria, perhaps we can interpret this as Faunus. If so, we may have yet another link to
the binding and control of Faunus, the theme that appears on the Bisenzio ash urn and the
Hellenistic urns. This argument makes sense when combined with the idea of Faunus as a
creature of nightmare, and his links to Inuus the ravager of sleeping women. The figurine may
represent a magical attempt to ward off night-terrors and evil spirits during one’s sleep. More
information about the find spot of this figurine might help to illuminate its exact function.
As we can see from all of the evidence for lupine gods in Italy, the wolf was a
representative of chthonic powers tied to fertility and death. The physical characteristics and
behavior (large fangs, glowing eyes, role of predator, howling at night, and prowling the edges of
human towns in search of food) make it an animal ideally suited for association with gods of the
underworld. It is concretely associated with the gods Aita and Apollo Soranus, and may have
given its shape to the Etruscan death god, Calu or Tinia-Calusna. Canine iconography may have
been partly a result of Etruscan familiarity with the Egyptian psychopomp and god of
embalming, Anubis, who was accepted into Greco-Roman tradition in relation to the cult of Isis.
The appearance of the wolf in Italic religion extends beyond Etruria into Latium and
Samnium as well. Three groups of priests, the Lucani, Hirpi, and Luperci bear the name “Wolf-
men,” and their rituals are mirrored in fantastic tales of lycanthropy as well as the rites of the
cults of Lycaean Zeus and Apollo. The etymology of the name Luperci, the rituals of the
Lupercalia, and links to deities such as Silvanus and Sucellus hint at a lupine nature of the god
Faunus as well. If this is the case, then a series of cinerary urns from Etruria may preserve a
369 Faraone (1991, 203) mentions that the legs of this figurine are broken off at the knees, but he does not specify
whether or not this has anything to do with a binding ritual or with an accident of preservation.
370 Faraone (1992, 171) notes that the Spartans honored a statue of Ares Enyalius which was fettered. They
represented the god in this way in order to curtail the wanton, destructive power of the god.
371 Minto 1927, 475-6.
372 Faraone 1992, 58-9.
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narrative and alternative iconography of this god, and we can use these to identify other
representations of the wolf-god in Etruria. All in all, the presence of the wolf is strongly felt in
Etruscan and Roman religion, and perhaps this figure is beginning to come out of the shadows.
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CHAPTER 4: THE GOAT
The earliest, and at the same time the most striking, representation of such a
sudden attack is painted on side A of a [Greek] bell crater in Boston, which shows
a young goatherd pursued by the god [Pan, Fig. IV.1]… On the other side of the
vase… Actaeon, attacked by his dogs, has just been struck down by the arrow of
Artemis… There is a remarkable parallel between the two scenes: one has to do
with the wild, the other with the domestic, one with hunting, the other with
herding, but in both a power that holds sway over animal life turns against a
human who is himself a specialist in animals. The roles are reversed, as if to tell
us that human technique, in this sphere, can never completely eliminate the
irrational forces it works to master, nor establish as irreversible the difference it
tries so hard to define. 373
Like the serpent and the wolf, the goat played an important part in the religious
symbolism of the Etruscans and Romans. Thus, even though Borgeaud makes the above quote
in relation to the Greek goat-god Pan, as depicted on the name vase of the Pan Painter (Boston
10.185) the notion of tension between rational, human forces and wild, animal impulses in nature
is again demonstrated by the use of hybrid iconography. The scene of the chase takes place in a
rustic setting indicated by an ithyphallic herm positioned on an outcrop of rock. According to
Beazley, the Pan Painter was an artist known for his taste in “out-of-the-way subjects.” 374
Beazley states,
The god Pan is almost unknown in Attic art before the Persian wars: he had
ground complaining to Philippides, on the eve of Marathon, that the Athenians
neglected him. After the Persian wars Pan becomes quite popular at Athens: but
not in this context: only here is he seen pursuing a boy. 375
The Greek goat hybrid Pan was appropriated by the people of Italy and sometimes associated
with their native, sylvan god Faunus. Juno Sospita, who wore the goat skin as the most
conspicuous part of her iconography, was one of the most widely worshipped Latin goddesses,
and her image appears on numerous antefixes as part of the decorative program of many temples.
In each of these cases, the goat is associated with the power to induce both fear, in order to repel
both men and evil spirits, and also fertility, in order to increase the growth of vegetation and the
373 Borgeaud 1988, 128-9.
374 Beazley 1974, 2.
375 Beazley 1974, 2.
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eproduction of animals. 376 These are characteristics that appear to be common to the liminal,
theriomorphic and therianthropic deities.
In the previous chapter, we encountered the problem of defining Faunus’ animal
associations. While examining many facets of Faunus’ character, I proposed that he was not
strictly the Roman equivalent of Pan and may even have originally taken the form of a lupine
deity. As Wiseman notes, “It was never clear to the Romans whether or not Pan and Faunus
were identical. Silvanus, too, was not easy to distinguish from either of them.” 377 This problem
is discussed by Pouthier and Rouillard, who proposed that a fixed iconography for Faunus,
including a horn of plenty and goat or panther skin, was an invention of nineteenth-century
classical scholars 378 and not a product of the ancient world. Thus we must be skeptical when
Schilling proposes that “Faunus is merely a Latin disguise for Pan” 379 or Palmer states, “Faunus,
of course, was a goat god.” 380 Palmer also asserts that Faunus’ caprid character is supported by
his association with other deities, which, as demonstrated earlier in Chapter Three, may instead
support a lupine nature for this god.
In our subsequent pursuit of the origins of Roman Vediovis, certain goatish
divinities of Gaulish influence will clarify the relationship and character of
incubation and the oracular gods Faunus, Vediovis, Jupiter, and Silvanus, as well
as the goddesses normally called Fauna and Silvana. 381
No other scholar indicates that Vediovis (Veiovis) was conceived of as a goat; he is generally
linked to wolves through his connection to Apollo Soranus. Thus, associating Latin divinities
such as Faunus and Veiovis with Gallic divinities does not really clear matters up. 382
376 Several of these ideas are embodied in the scene of Pan chasing the goatherd in Fig. IV.1. Perhaps we may look
upon the image of the young shepherd chased by Pan as comic, but Borgeaud’s description of the tension between
wild nature and civilization is surely closer to the mark. In this instance, the fleeing shepherd represents the effect
that goat-man hybrids have on those who face them; the shepherd runs in fear. The argument for the fearsome
nature of this scene is strengthened by the artist’s choice to paint a scene of the death of Actaeon on the other side of
this vase.
377 Wiseman 2005, 79-80. Nagy (1994, 769) notes that Silvanus can sometimes take the form of a goat-man hybrid,
but this phenomenon is sporadic and typically isolated to the region of Dalmatia.
378 Pouthier and Rouillard 1986, 105-6. Dorcey (1992, 34) seems to agree with this suggestion when he states,
“Further complicating matters is the complete lack of iconographical evidence for Faunus.”
379 Schilling 1992, 127.
380 Palmer 1974, 147. Palmer (1974, 167) also asserts that “Vediovis and Faunus were principally concerned with
Netherworld oracles, fertility and birth. Their bestial associations tended toward the goat after whom Faunus was
physically modeled.”
381 Palmer 1974, 139.
382 See Ch. 3 no. 32. Veiovis is sometimes interpreted as an infant Jupiter (Ov. Fas. 3.437-8, 447-8) who was
nursed by a goat, and a goat did sometimes accompany images of this god. See Aul. Gel. Att. Noct. 1-12 for a full
discussion of Veiovis’ name and his association with the goat. The presence of the goat in this god’s mythical
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Nevertheless, literary evidence beginning in the Augustan period presents Faunus as a hybrid of
man and goat. 383 It is my position that we must not forget the evidence of the lupine character of
the god, and that he actually had a dual nature, as a “wolf in goat's clothing,” so to speak.
In the tale of Numa’s capture of Faunus and Picus, Ovid refers to Faunus as quatiens
cornua, shaking his horns. 384 Elsewhere, Ovid describes him as semicaper deus, or half-goat
god. 385 As mentioned earlier, I believe this is either a part of an iconographic shift that fully
linked Faunus to one aspect of Arcadian Pan or the continuation of a dual conception of this god
as both the protector and ravager of flocks. It is worth noting that even when depicted as a
humorous character by Ovid, Faunus never fully loses the fearsome, chthonic aspect
demonstrated in Chapter Three. If we remember that Faunus was associated with Inuus, a god
who sexually assaults women in their sleep, then Horace’s depiction of Faunus as a Nympharum
fugientum amator, a “lover of fleeing Nymphs,” takes on a new dimension. 386
A second hint of the less-than-benevolent nature of Faunus can be found in Horace’s Ode
1.17. In this example, the poet mentions sacrificial offerings to Faunus in his role as protector of
the herd.
Often swift Faunus exchanges Mt. Lycaeon
For pleasurable Lucretilis
And wards off the fiery heat and the constant wind
And rains from my she-goats.
They, straying safely through the grove,
Seek arbutes and thyme, wives of a smelly
Husband, and they do not fear greenish vipers,
Nor the savage wolves of Mars. 387
In this example, Horace mentions Mt. Lycaeon, a clear reference to the Arcadian cult of Lycaeon
Pan, whom we have met earlier in the context of werewolf cults. This epithet reminds us of the
dual nature of this god, which Horace perhaps reinforces in his remark regarding the wolves of
tradition does not, however, make him a goat god anymore than Aesculapius or Zeus who were both nursed by
goats.
383
Schilling 1992, 127.
384
Ov. Fas. 3.312.
385
Ov. Fas. 4.752.
386
Hor. Car. 3.18.1. For Inuus as a nighttime terror see Holleman 1974, 95. This pursuit of fleeing nymphs also
brings to mind Pan and the shepherd as depicted on Fig. IV.1.
387
Hor. Car. 1.17.1-10. Latin Text taken from Horace Odes and Epodes, Vol. 3, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999, p. 52. (Translation by Author.)
Velox amoenum saepe Lucretilem / mutat Lycaeo Faunus et igneam / defendit aestatem capellis / usque meis
pluviosque ventos. / inpune tutum per nemus arbutos / quaerunt latentis et thyma deviae / olentis uxores mariti / nec
viridis metuunt colubras / nec Martialis haediliae lupos…
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Mars in line nine. Similarly, Turcan notes in regard to the dedication of the temple of Faunus on
the Tiber Island, which took place on February 13, 196 BCE.
The god of woods and flocks, Faunus deifies the forces of nature which the
peasant both fears and entreats. So in this instance he was propitiated on the
fringes of the city and civilized life, in a temple built with the product of fines
inflicted on farmers of public grazing land. 388
The date of this dedication in February also stresses the possibility of the dual aspect of the god.
Pouthier and Rouillard note that Faunus retains his “infernal” nature in addition to being a
fertility god. 389 The dedication of a temple to this god in the month of February is particularly
appropriate due to this month’s association with the dead. 390
Of course, the dedication of a temple to Faunus is not the only reason that the month of
February is significant to the god, for the Lupercalia also takes place in that month. By the time
the ritual activities of the Lupercalia are recorded with any consistency, it is a goat-skin that is
donned by the Luperci. The connection between the goat and Faunus is further strengthened by
the ritual of using a thong made of goat-skin to purify Rome’s matrons and instill fertility in
them. This thong is referred to as the amiculum Iunonis, 391 a name that links Faunus to the
goddess Juno, a goddess also conceived of in goat form. In his treatment of the Lupercalia in the
Fasti, Ovid again exploits Faunus in a comic light in a farcical etiology for the nudity of the
Luperci, priests who participated in one of Rome’s most ancient religious rituals. 392 Faunus is
lusting after Omphale:
He [Faunus] enters and the reckless paramour wanders to and fro,
And he stretches out his cautious hands in pursuit.
He had come to the longed for beds where they were stretched out
And at his first chance, he is almost lucky.
As he feels the skin, shaggy with the hairs of a tawny lion,
He holds back his hand and fears for himself,
Thunderstruck he pulls back in fear, as a traveler often
Takes a step back, shocked by seeing a serpent.
Then, he touches the soft veils of the other bed,
Which is very close, and he is deceived by a false sign.
388
Turcan 2000, 64. The edge of the city was the place for outsiders and outlaws, and as noted in Chapter 3, both
this location and its inhabitants are associated with wolves.
389
Pouthier and Rouillard 1986, 106.
390
Fowler 1925, 306-7.
391
Festus 76,1; Ov. Fas. 2.429-46.
392
The exact “costume” of the Luperci is a matter of debate as mentioned earlier. The Luperci are depicted in art as
wearing a garment wrapped around their waist, but references to the nudity of the Luperci (such as in Ovid) confuse
the issue.
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He climbs up and lies down bringing himself nearer,
And his penis is swollen even harder than horn.
Meanwhile, he draws up the tunic from its hem
Rough legs bristled with thick hair.
Immediately, the Tirynthian hero kicks him off
While he tests the rest: He falls from the top of the bed…
The god, deceived by clothing, hates garments
That deceive the eye and decrees nude worshippers for his rites. 393
This trivialization of sacred practice is common in Ovid’s Fasti and is representative of the role
of Faunus in Roman myth; he is used as comic relief. We may wish to interpret Faunus’ lustful
behavior as being typical of Satyrs, but I would also suggest that Inuus may lurk in the shadows
of this narrative. 394 While Faunus’ foiled attempt to rape Omphale is humorous, the deity is
again acting in the character of one who ravages women in the night. Dorcey states that Faunus
had become little more than “a literary topos” 395 by the beginning of the Imperial Period and
labels him as a god who either may not have ever had a cult of great significance 396 or whose cult
faded and was preserved only in obscure rites not understood by those who practiced them.
While literature of the Augustan period securely links Faunus to the goat, iconography
does not always do the same. In their short entry for Faunus in LIMC, Pouthier and Rouillard
provide as images only three bronze statuettes of the god. This meager evidence is striking when
compared to the great number of artifacts and monuments produced for other gods. In addition
to this, not one of these is reproduced in the accompanying volume of plates, nor are any of them
described as possessing the parts of a goat or wearing an animal skin securely identified as that
of a goat. In fact, these statuettes are characterized as holding a cornucopia, a rhyton, or a
393
Ov. Fas. 2.335-50, 357-8. Latin Text taken from Ovid Fasti, Vol. 5, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb Classical
Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1996, p. 80, 82. (Translation by Author.)
Intrat, et huc illuc temerarius errat adulter / et praefert cautas subsequiturque manus. / venerat ad strati captata
cubilia lecti / et felix prima sorte futurus erat. / ut tetigit fulvi saetis hirsuta leonis / vellera, pertimuit sustinuitque
manum, / attonitusque metu rediit, ut saepe viator / turbatus viso rettulit angue pedem. / inde tori qui iunctus erat
velamina tangit / mollia, mendaci decipiturque nota. / ascendit spondaque sibi propiore recumbit, / et tumidum cornu
durius inguen erat. / interea tunicas ora subducit ab ima : / horrebant densis aspera crura pilis. / cetera temptantem
subito Tirynthius heros / reppulit: e summo decidit ille toro… / veste deus lusus fallentes lumina vestes / non amat,
et nudos ad sua sacra vocat.
394
We may remind ourselves of the image of Pan and the goatherd in Fig IV.1, which has overtones of more than
just lust and the fancy of the god.
395
Dorcey 1992, 34.
396
Fowler 1925, 258. One problem with the view that Faunus did not ever have a cult of great importance deals
with the festival of the Lupercalia. If we accept Faunus’ association with this festival, it is difficult to label him as
deity of no import, due to the great significance of this festival.
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anch, 397 objects that likely stress Faunus’ nature as a beneficent god who brings abundance and
fertility. One example provided by Pouthier and Rouillard represents Faunus holding a branch
and wearing the skin of a beast (perhaps that of a goat) is a bronze statuette of unknown
provenance currently housed in the Bibliothéque Nationale (Fig. IV.2). This iconographic type
reminds us of Faunus’ links to the forest god, Silvanus, who may be depicted in a similar
manner. 398
A bronze statuette (Fig. IV.2) depicts Faunus as a god of fertility. The right hand of the
figurine holds a poorly preserved drinking horn and the left a fruit-bearing branch. Faunus wears
a spiky head dress but is otherwise mostly nude, except for an animal skin draped across his
shoulders and a pair of rustic sandals or boots. J. Babelon did not identify the species of animal
skin, and it is not clear in any images of this statuette (both photos and line drawings) whether it
is that of a goat or some other animal. In this instance, he is shown as a bearded, regal male and
does not possess any of the comic overtones demonstrated in the literary accounts of Ovid. Nor
does he possess the same character as Pan represented in a fresco dating to the first quarter of the
first century CE in the House of Jason in Pompeii (Fig. IV.3).
Fig. IV.3 depicts a goat-man identified as Pan who is reminiscent of depictions of Faunus
in contemporary literature. Ling cites this painting as an example of the “restrained and
balanced” painting typical of Augustan classicism. 399 The representation of the nude Pan raising
his syrinx to lips as he calmly sits on a stone in the presence of three nymphs or maidens is
strikingly different from the scene of Pan pursuing the young shepherd boy on the name vase of
397
Pouthier and Rouillard (1997, 582-3) maintain the absence of a distinct iconography for this god but do note the
cornucopia and rhyton.
398
Dorcey, in The Cult of Silvanus, analyzes the evidence demonstrating that these two gods were often confused by
ancient authors; however, he is quite selective in which evidence he chooses to accept. He is also quick to make
statements that minimize evidence that does not support his argument and base his conclusions on his own
assumptions. In reference to the prophetic powers of Silvanus, Dorcey (1992, 35) states, “Silvanus does not share
much of Faunus’ ability to deliver prophecies and oracles, either in dreams or in forest settings. Livy (2.7.2) and
Valerius Maximus (1.8.5) do attribute the pronouncement of the defeat of Tarquinius Superbus in battle to Silvanus;
however Dionysius of Halicarnassus (5.16.2-3), in narrating the same episode, has Faunus announce the Roman
military victory.” Instead of interpreting this as evidence linking Silvanus and Faunus, Dorcey (1992, 35) assumes
that the ancient authors are “mistaken in this instance, since there are many sources for the oracular talents of
Faunus, and no other for those of Silvanus.” There are no other sources, except for the ones Dorcey has chosen to
doubt. Dorcey (1992, 42) goes so far as to state, “What is indeed interesting about Silvanus is how much he retained
his individuality vis-à-vis other rustic deities,” after he has collected a staggering amount of evidence that indicates
just the opposite. I believe that Dorcey is too ready to dismiss evidence which he views as exceptions to rules he has
established for his study. Both iconographic and literary sources point to the confusion of the identities of these
gods.
399
Ling 1991, 119.
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the Pan Painter (Fig. IV.1). The fresco shows this god, known for his wild nature, in repose, and
is surely influenced by the social and political climate of the day. Perhaps this change in the
god’s demeanor is representative of a shift in the perception of Faunus from the wild forest god
to the potentially more docile or comic deity known to the Augustan poets. The discrepancies
between the iconography of Faunus in Fig. IV.2 and Pan in Fig. IV.3, as well as the image of
Faunus in literature, highlight both the fact that art and text need not mirror one another and also
the complex character of this god, who is not simply a Roman equivalent of the Greek Pan. One
last fact that helps to distinguish between Pan and Faunus is that before the Imperial Period,
there are few images of goat-man hybrids identified as Pan in Latium and Etruria, and all of
these are found in a Dionysiac context. 400 The earliest example provided by Boardman in the
LIMC entry for Pan is a bronze relief attachment dating to the fifth century BCE that depicts a
squatting goat therianthrope playing a syrinx. 401 One may wonder then, if so few images of
goat-man hybrids can securely be identified as Pan, a god whose nature is surely linked to the
goat, how we might identify a goat therianthrope as Faunus, whose nature is in question.
The multiplicity of Faunus bears mentioning as this is yet another factor that adds to the
problematic nature of the god. As we shall see by the end of this study, a number of the
theriomorphic and therianthropic deities can appear as pluralized or reduplicated creatures. In
relation to Faunus, scholars have sought to determine which came first, the singular or plural
forms. Fowler views Faunus as a deity who began as a “lower, multiple, daemonistic form” who
became something “more uniform and more rigid.” 402 Wissowa, on the other hand, proposes that
Faunus’ multiplicity was in fact the result of his identification with Pan, 403 which we have seen
to be problematic. There is no sure way to determine which, either the singular or plural, aspect
of Faunus came first or if this was even a concern to an ancient Etruscan or Roman. We may
speculate that Faunus may have originally been an individual deity before the late Republic when
authors such as Varro and Cicero refer to Fauni. 404
The use of a goat skin as a conspicuous component of a deity’s iconography was not
limited to rustic, forest gods such as Pan and possibly Faunus. The great goddess Juno could
400 Boardman 1997, 939.
401 Boardman 1997, 939.
402 Fowler 1925, 260.
403 Wissowa 1454.
404 See Ch. 3 notes 310 and 316. It is also difficult to determine the impact the presence of Satyrs has had on the
iconography of Faunus and the Fauni. Satyrs are plentiful in Greek, Roman, and Etruscan art but are not always
depicted as goat-man hybrids and sometimes have horses’ tails as a component of their iconography.
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appear as Juno Sospita, clad in a goatskin and armed with shield and spear. 405 Juno’s byname
likely derives from either the Greek verb b , 406 which means to save or preserve, or the
Sanskrit noun, sapati, a protector, but attempts to find this goddess’ origins in the light and the
heavens have also led to a derivation from Latin sidus, or star, which would indicate that Juno
Sospita was a celestial power. 407 A close connection to the moon has been posited for this
goddess and for Juno in general. 408 Whatever the origin of the epithet Sospita, it is clear that this
goddess was prominent throughout Latium and appears also in Etruria; Latin Juno becomes
Etruscan Uni. 409 Of course, the greatest cult center of Juno Sospita was in Latium at
Lanuvium. 410 It is tempting to suggest that Juno’s association with the goat may be tied to one of
the earliest conceptions of the goddess, and some of the earliest images of Juno Sospita are found
in Etruria.
One example of an antefix bearing the image of Juno Sospita, of which there were many
in both Latium and Etruria, comes from Antemnae (Fig. IV.4). The widespread use of the head
of Juno Sospita as an antefix, in addition to her appearance in many different media of art,
testifies to the pan-Italic quality of this goddess. Antefixes that make use of her visage appeared
in Rome, Falerii Veteres, Fidenae, Satricum, and other cities of Latium 411 as well as Cerveteri in
Etruria. 412 These antefixes conform closely to the image evoked by Cicero in De Natura
Deorum 1.29.82 quoted below. Juno is here shown with both the horns and ears of the goat
projecting from her head. There is no doubt that they also served as an apotropaic device due to
405 Sospita is the most common form of this epithet that appears in texts dealing with Roman religion, but this Juno
could also be labeled Juno Sispes, Sispita, or Seispes. Gordon (1938, 24) notes that Sospita is the only form of this
epithet appears in literature and epigraphic evidence except in Festus. This Juno is also sometimes referred to as
Juno Sospita Mater Regina. An excellent discussion of the goddess Juno can also be found in Simon 1990, 94-106.
406 Douglas (1913, 68) and Shields (1926, 69) note a connection between Juno Sospita and Athena Soteria. More
will be made of the connection between these two goddesses shortly.
407 Shields 1926, 67. While it may not seem etymologically sound to derive this particular aspect of Juno from
sidus, Juno’s association with the sky is quite clear. Her relationship to Jupiter in Rome and her assimilation to
Astarte at Pyrgi are only two pieces of much evidence for her role as queen of heaven.
408 Shields 1926, 72.
409 Jannot 2005, 157. De Grummond (2006a, 79) notes that the Italian name Juno may derive from an Indo-
European root, iuni, meaning “young.” Simon (2006, 61) is in agreement that Uni is derived from Juno as well.
410 This does not necessarily imply that Juno Sospita was not conceived of in anthropomorphic form as proposed by
Douglas (1913, 67-8), who adheres to the notion that Roman deities were not given human form until the Greeks or
Etruscans influenced the Romans. Douglas (1913, 69) also suggests that this image type may have originated in
Falerii.
411 Chiarucci 1983, 62.
412 Palmer 1974, 43. Andrén (1939-40, Pl. 9) provides one Etruscan example from the site of Caere.
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the ability of horns to ward off evil. 413 The belief in the evil-eye and the powers of malevolent
spirits was quite prominent on the Italian peninsula, and there is further evidence of attempts to
ward off the evil-eye in tomb painting. 414
A second example of this goddess’ presence in an Etruscan context appears on a “Pontic”
vase (Fig. IV.5), on which Uni is again represented with the iconography of Juno Sospita. 415 The
upper register of decoration on one side of the belly of this “Pontic” amphora represents one
facet of the relationship between Uni and Hercle. The enmity between Herakles and Hera is well
known in Greek mythology, as Hera often sought to punish Zeus’ illegitimate child for his
father’s transgressions, 416 and perhaps this enmity is reflected on this “Pontic” vase. It may be
that we are meant to interpret this scene as an Etruscan attribution of this aspect of Hera’s
character to the goddess Juno Sospita. This scene is reminiscent of the battle between Herakles
and Apollo for the tripod of Delphi as the conflict between Hercle and Uni is here set amongst
two large dinoi decorated with snake protomes. Perhaps Hercle and Uni are struggling for
dominance over a shrine. Hercle and Uni are not the only deities depicted in this register of
decoration; Menerva appears behind Hercle, Tinia 417 behind Uni, perhaps to support the
combatants or to end the fight between them. The role of the supporting deities is not clear.
Thus while the earliest recognizable images of this goddess date to the Archaic Period,
the image of Juno clad in a goat skin persisted through the Hellenistic Period, as can be seen on
Etruscan bronze mirrors (Fig. IV.6.), and into the High Empire (Figs. IV.8).The unchanging
nature of Juno Sospita’s iconography is reflected not only in art but also in literature. Cicero
describes her iconographic type briefly in the De Natura Deorum I.82.
And why indeed do you think that Apis, sacred bull of the Egyptians, seems to be
a god to them? For, by Hercules, just such a goddess is your Sospita, whom you
never see, not even in sleep, without a goat skin, spear, shield, and shoes with
turned up toes. But Argive Hera is not like this, and neither is Roman Juno.
Therefore, there is one likeness of Juno for the Argives, another for the men of
413 Moss and Cappannari 1976, 9.
414 Moss and Cappannari (1976, 5,8) note that the belief in the evil-eye was present on the whole of the Italian
peninsula and that “horning the fingers” is an apotropaic gesture made to avert this baleful force. This gesture is
made by one of the dancers in the Tomb of the Lionesses.
415 De Grummond (2006a, 81) states “She [Uni] does appear with weapons, however; like Astarte, Uni had a warlike
aspect. She was sometimes represented armed, and instead of a helmet and breastplate, she wore the skin of a
horned goat, occurring elsewhere in Italy in the Latin cult of Juno Sospita at Lanuvium.”
416 Euripides’ tragedy, The Madness of Herakles, in which the goddess Lyssa, at Hera’s request, drives Herakles
mad and forces him to murder his wife and children, is perhaps the most vivid example of Hera’s hatred for her
stepson.
417 Douglas (1913, 62) identifies the god standing behind Uni as Poseidon.
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Lanuvium, and indeed there is one likeness for us on the Capitoline, and another
for the Africans of Jupiter Ammon. 418
The Romans appropriated this goddess after conquering the Latins and making Lanuvium a part
of the Roman federation in 338 BCE. 419 Juno Sospita then received a temple in the Forum
Holitorium in 194 BCE as the fulfillment of a vow made by Cornelius Cethegus, consul in 197
BCE, when he routed the Cenomani and the Insubres. 420
Unfortunately, no literary narratives recording myths of Juno Sospita survive for us. Yet,
the visual evidence provides us hints at several stories. In Etruscan art, Juno Sospita is
sometimes shown in conflict with satyrs and occasionally aided by her step-son, Hercle, even
though he can also replace the Satyrs as her enemy. 421 It is tempting to see a connection between
this conflict and the use of both Juno Sospita’s image and images of Satyrs as antefixes that
decorated the beams of many temples throughout Italy. Simon suggests that the use of the head
of Juno Sospita as an antefix is in accordance with a myth in which Uni makes peace with the
Satyrs, who had previously been her enemy, 422 but as mentioned earlier, no such myth is known
in literature. A concord between “goat divinities” may exist in the connection between Juno and
Faunus through the rites of the Lupercalia, but, as I have stated earlier, I am not convinced that
Faunus was conceived of as a goat deity in the Archaic Period in Italy unless he was
simultaneously thought of as both goat and wolf. On the other hand, we may just as easily
attribute the combining of images of Juno and Satyrs to the scenes of their conflict, for which we
at least do have visual representations. Perhaps we may contextualize the combination of images
418 Cic. Nat. D. I.29.82. Latin Text taken from Cicero Nature of the Gods, Academics, Vol. 19, edited by J.
Henderson, Loeb Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2000, p. 78. (Translation by
Author.)
Quid igitur censes? Apim illum sanctum Aegyptiorum bovem nonne deum videri Aegyptiis? Tam, hercle, quam tibi
illam vestram Sospitam. Quam tu numquam ne in somnis quidem vides nisi cum pelle caprina, cum hasta, cum
scutulo cum calceolis repandis : at non est talis Argia nec Romana Iuno. Ergo alia species Iunonis Argivis, alia
Lanuinis. Et quidem alia nobis Capitolini, alia Afris Hammonis Iovis.
419 Shields 1926, 67. Gordon (1938, 22) points out that the city was given Roman citizenship only after they agreed
to allow the Romans share in the worship of this goddess. Citizenship was an important political tool used by the
Romans during the conquest of Italy, and this underlines the significance of the goddess.
420 Livy 32.30.10.
421 De Grummond 2006a, 82.
422 Simon 2006, 51-2.
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of Juno and satyrs in a larger framework of mythological conflicts used as architectural
decoration. 423
Representations of Juno Sospita can be found on the coins of the Roman Republic and
Empire. When various members of the Roman elite from the area of Lanuvium came to power,
they took advantage of their standing to mint coins bearing her likeness. A silver denarius struck
by L. Roscius Fabatus (Fig. IV.7) is typical of issues that make use of Juno Sospita’s
iconography on the coin’s obverse. The earliest appearance of Juno Sospita on the obverse of a
coin occurs on an issue of L. Thorius Balbus ca. 105 BCE, 424 and takes a form similar to the coin
of Fabatus, i.e. a profile head shown wearing the goat-skin cap. 425 (The device represented to the
left of the goddess’ head is not clear.) On the reverse of Fabatus’ coin, an additional reference to
the cult of Juno Sospita can be seen in the maiden and snake that appear before her. This is no
doubt meant to represent a chthonic, oracular serpent, whose task it was to determine the purity
of the young maidens of Lanuvium in order to secure the prosperity of the city. (The device
behind the maiden is reminiscent of either the prow of a ship or a rudder.) Juno was also
associated with coinage in her guise as Juno Moneta, the goddess of the mint located in her
temple on the Capitoline hill. 426
Perhaps the most important Roman from Lanuvium to adopt this practice was the
emperor Antoninus Pius (Fig. IV.8). He continued the tradition of Roman notables before him
and referenced his place of birth on his coinage, in this case an issue minted in Rome. 427 We
may also speculate that by linking himself to this goddess, who was a protector of the state, the
emperor may have also have meant to cast himself in this role as a guarantor of the safety of the
Roman people and the government. In this instance, instead of showing just the goddess’ head,
as on the obverse of Fabatus’ coin, the whole body of the goddess is shown much in the same
way as in a statue from the Antonine Period currently housed in the Vatican (Fig. IV.9). On the
coin, Juno’s right leg is bent as if she is striding forward. She raises her right hand which holds a
spear, and a shield is strapped to her left arm. The inscription on this coin reads IUNONI
423 Brendel (1995, 234-6) discusses the Pyrgi columen plaque which demonstrates the conflict between Tydeus and
Melanippus and its peculiarly Etruscan character. This plaque is one of many striking examples of battle themes in
ancient architectural art, which is replete with Gigantomachies, Centauromachies, Amazonomachies, etc.
424 Gordon 1938, 23.
425 Both issues were minted in Rome.
426 Grueber 1910, 422; Mattingly 1960, 62-3.
427 Mattingly 1940, lxxxi.
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SISPITE and demonstrates the variation in the spelling of the epithet of this aspect of Juno. The
obverse of the coin was decorated with a portrait of the emperor.
Juno Sospita’s representation in Roman art is thus remarkably consistent with Cicero’s
description of her iconography, and yet there exists one anomalous occurrence of this goddess in
Etruscan art. A small, bronze statuette of Juno Sospita wearing what seems to be a wolf-skin
must be examined for its possible implications regarding the iconography of this goddess as well
as other therianthropes (Fig. IV.11). 428 Perhaps, we should again return to the link between Juno
and Faunus that is present through the festival of the Lupercalia. The amiculum Iunonis, the
goat-skin thong used to induce fertility in maidens and matrons, creates a direct connection
between Faunus and Juno. Certainly, these two deities share a concern with fertility. This link
may help clarify the shift in iconographic types for this goddess; if it is possible that Faunus
could don the skin of the wolf and/or the goat, the same variance may be possible for Juno
Sospita. The martial nature of this aspect of Juno may be an important factor here. The wolf, as
an animal associated with Mars, is appropriate for a civic goddess whose concern is to protect
the state, but the wolf can also connote fertility. The same can be said of the goat, associated
with Pan and his ability to strike fear into the hearts of soldiers and also the aegis worn by
Athena (Fig. IV.10). Thus, the goat can be both a martial animal as well as one associated with
fecundity and increase. Following the model proposed in the previous discussion of Faunus’
iconography, I would speculate that Juno Sospita may have been envisioned as both a “predator”
and protector.
What is it about this goddess that made her so important to the people of Italy? Previous
scholars have examined her iconography and the rituals associated with her worship, but these
have not led to conclusive results concerning her character and sphere of influence. It is my
belief that the conclusions drawn in the past have restricted this goddess and do not fully
appreciate her nature. The first point to be addressed is whether Juno Sospita can be considered
a chthonic goddess and if a chthonic nature rules out connections with celestial bodies, in
particular the moon.
In an attempt to prove that the temple found on the arx of Lanuvium was actually the
temple of Juno Sospita and not a Capitolium, Galieti used the presence of beans and chickpeas as
428 De Agostino (1968, 57) states that in this example, Juno wears the wolf-skin as opposed to her more usual goatskin.
He also notes that her feet also lack the typical calcei repandi. See also Richardson 1983, 361.
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an indicator that a chthonic deity must have been worshipped there. A chthonic deity would
therefore rule out the presence of the Capitoline Triad. 429 Gordon states that this does not
necessarily mean that the deity worshipped in the temple was chthonic, but that the presence of
the remains does rule out the possibility that the flamen dialis could have been involved in
whatever cult was practiced here. 430 Gordon concludes the following:
Whatever the nature of Juno (or Juno Sospita) may be, it is not, I believe,
chthonian. The only evidence for such a character, other than that just discussed,
is her connection with a peculiar snake ritual that formed the motif of an annual
festival at Lanuvium, and it is questionable whether this connection has any such
significance. 431
This festival was well-known in antiquity and bears further discussion. I believe that we should
not divorce this festival from Juno Sospita as has been done in the past.
The Umbrian elegiac poet Propertius (IV.8.3-14) describes the maidens’ ritual visit to the
serpent of Lanuvium:
Lanuvium is from old guarded by an ancient serpent:
Such that a moment of brief pause is not wasted for you here;
Where a sacred stair is swallowed in a blind chasm,
Where a maiden enters, (maiden beware all such roads!)
The repute of the hungry serpent, when it seeks its annual meal
And hurls the deepest hisses from the earth.
Maidens, sent to such rites, turn pale,
When their hand is rashly trusted to the serpent’s mouth.
He snatches the dishes brought near for him from the virgins:
The very baskets tremble in the young girl’s hands.
If they have been chaste, they return to the embrace of their parents,
And the farmers cry out, “It will be a fruitful year!” 432
This festival seems to serve two purposes, determining the chastity of Lanuvium’s maidens as
well as insuring the fertility of the crops. The origin of the rite is disputed, and it is theorized
429
Galieti 1916, 23-5.
430
Gordon 1938, 27-8.
431
Gordon 1938, 28.
432
Prop. IV.8.3-14. Latin Text taken Sexti Properti Carmina, edited by E.A. Barber, Oxford: Clarendon Press,
1953, p. 156-7. (Translation by Author.)
Lanuvium annosi uetus est tutela draconis, / hic tibi tam rarae non perit hora morae; / qua sacer abripitur caeco
descensus hiatu, / qua penetrat (uirgo, tale iter omne caue!) / ieiuni serpentis honos, cum pabula poscit / annua et ex
ima sibila torquet humo. / talia demissae pallent ad sacra puellae, / cum temere anguino creditur ore manus. / ille sibi
admotas a virgine corripit escas : / virginis in palmis ipsa canistra tremunt. / si fuerint castae, redeunt in colla
parentum, / clamantque agricolae "Fertilis annus erit."
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that it may be Greek. 433 Gordon states that the serpent did not play an important role in Roman
religion and mythology, except in relation to the cult of the Genius, 434 but the importance of this
cult and its connection to fertility have already been stressed in Chapter III. There is no reason
to assume that the rite is Greek in origin, and scholars previous to Gordon have argued for its
Italic nature. 435 We may also not want to limit this serpent strictly to agrarian fertility as Gordon
does. 436 An Etruscan mirror cover demonstrates that Juno Sospita is related to more than just
crops.
The visage of Juno Sospita appears on an Etruscan bronze mirror cover from Tarquinia
(Fig. IV.6). Richardson interprets the scene on this mirror as the reunion of Odysseus and
Penelope. 437 Building upon this interpretation, De Grummond suggests that the appearance of
the goddess relates to an oracle regarding Penelope’s fidelity thereby linking Juno Sospita to the
realms of womanly affairs and marriage. 438 This mirror is also significant for determining the
character of the goddess as a whole, for it demonstrates that this Juno was a goddess of womanly
affairs. Even when depicted as a warrior or civic goddess, Juno no doubt retained her status as a
fertility figure and mother goddess; I see no reason to assume that these two aspects of the
goddess are mutually exclusive.
Shields suggests that connection with the serpent need not imply that Juno Sospita is
chthonic, 439 yet the addition of a serpent to Juno’s attributes makes excellent sense if she is
associated with fertility. Chiarucci takes the connection to the earth one step further and asserts
that this chthonic form of Juno is not only the protectress of Lanuvium and its soldiers, a symbol
of earthly and feminine fertility, but also a funerary goddess. 440 We must not forget that the
celestial goddesses of Greece and Italy find their roots in earlier mother goddesses, and thus they
433 Gordon 1938, 39.
434 Gordon 1938, 39.
435 Douglas (1913, 62, 71) seems indecisive as to the relationship between serpent and goddess when she makes the
following two statements, “This cave and snake have been connected with Iuno Sospita, and although no ancient
writer actually says this, the occurrence of a snake on the coins of Iuno Sospita seems fair proof of it…” and “The
two rites remained distinct and incongruous, that of Iuno as Sospita in her temple on the arx, and the terrible rite of
the serpent in the dark grotto on the hillside.” For support of the link see Frazer 1912, 18; Galietti 1916, 16;
Tomassetti 1910; 280. Galietti remains the strongest supporter of the Italic, prehistoric nature of the serpent cult.
436 Gordon 1938, 41.
437 Richardson 1982, 32
438 De Grummond 2000b, 53-4.
439 Shields 1926, 68.
440 Chiarucci 1983, 75.
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often retain their connection with the snake. 441 Thus, when scholars such as Shields suggest that
a connection with the Lanuvine serpent need not imply a chthonic aspect for Juno, 442 we must be
skeptical. The presence of the goddess’ temple on the top of a mountain need not exclude her
from the chthonic realm either, as Apollo Soranus, discussed earlier in Chapter Three, was the
god of Mt. Soracte.
Furthermore, there are other indications of Juno Sospita’s chthonic nature. Her festival
was celebrated on the first of February, an ill-omened month associated with purification,
fertility and the dead. Fowler states, “If pleasure is the object of the mid-winter festivals, the
fulfillment of duties towards the gods and the manes would seem to be that of the succeeding
period.” 443 This is the character of the month opened by the worship of Juno Sospita and the
dedication of her temple in Rome. 444 During the month of February, there are further
connections between Juno and fertility rites; Turcan notes that Juno is also worshipped in
February under the guise Juno Caprotina, or Juno Februata. Fowler goes on to associate the rites
of Juno Caprotina with those of the Lupercalia suggesting that she was likely represented as
wearing the goat skin of Juno Sospita and was thus linked to the generative power of the he-
goat. 445 Juno Caprotina was also worshipped on July 7, the Nonae Caprotinae. The Nonae
Caprotinae involved a role reversal of matrons and their hand-maidens in addition to the
sacrifice of a goat under a sacred fig tree, a caprificus, in the Campus Martius. Like Juno
Sospita, Juno Caprotina was a Latin goddess and was also associated with the goat, a creature
known in antiquity for its fertility. In this instance, there is no doubt that Juno is associated with
female fertility and the earth. 446 It has also been suggested that the rites of the Nonae Caprotinae
may also have been intended as purificatory and the sacred goat sacrificed to Juno was a
representation of Caprotina herself. 447 Given all of this evidence, it is not clear whether Juno
Caprotina and Juno Sospita were separate goddesses. 448
Juno Sospita was a polyvalent goddess not limited strictly to female concerns. As
mentioned earlier, she was also the great protectress of Lanuvium. Regardless of whether or not
441 Bevan 1986, 266
442 Shields 1926, 68.
443 Fowler 1925, 299.
444 Fowler 1925, 302.
445 Turcan 2000, 35.
446 Fowler 1925, 178; Shields 1926, 49.
447 Johnson 1960, 114.
448 Grueber 1910, 370 n.3.
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the etymology of her name indicates a military role, her iconography certainly does. The goat
skin, spear, and the serpent that categorize this aspect of the goddess also link her
iconographically to Greek Athena. In Athens, Athena wore the aegis, a goat skin (although it is
not always represented as such) that bore the head of the Gorgon, and was often dressed in her
panoply. The Etruscan Menerva and Roman Minerva followed this iconographic type (Fig.
IV.10). While Menerva wears the aegis, a goat skin decorated with the head of the Gorgon
Medusa, it is clear that she is not as closely associated with the goat as Juno Sospita. Menerva’s
goat skin is draped across her shoulders and chest and lacks the emphasis of the legs and hooves.
More importantly, Menerva is often depicted wearing a helmet and not a cap made of a goat
head displaying prominent horns. These iconographic elements are present in the iconography
of Juno Sospita, who is a better candidate for a theriomorphic or therianthropic goddess.
She was also associated with the serpent baby Erechthonius and the Athenian king
Erechtheus, both of whom were envisioned as a serpent or serpent hybrid. 449 The linguistic link
between Juno Sospita and Athena Soteria has already been mentioned, and it is possible that the
Italian Juno of Lanuvium was influenced by an Ionic form of Athena. 450 This visual resemblance
between the two goddesses is important but does not necessitate a direct transference of a Greek
Ionian deity to Italian shores. While Athena is shown with an aegis draped about her shoulders,
she does not wear the goat’s head as her helmet. Likewise Juno does not possess a gorgoneion
on her goatskin. Athena, while primarily a military goddess, occasionally does take on
characteristics similar to those of a mother goddess in both Greece and Etruria. 451
Further light may be shed on the character of Juno Sospita by examining the goddesses
with whom she may have been associated. Like many other sanctuaries in Latium and Etruria,
the one at Pyrgi, the port town of Etruscan Caere, was decorated with antefixes in the likeness of
Juno Sospita. The dedicatee of Temple B, Uni-Astarte, 452 was at the heart of a web of syncretic
connections. If we assume that Temple B is referred to by Strabo and Diodorus Siculus, then the
449 Bevan 1986, 263-4, 273-4.
450 Shields 1926, 69.
451 See Luyster (1965, 136-6) for a discussion of Athena’s relation to mothers and (1965, 145-7) for Athena’s
association with snakes as an emblem of fertility and a prophetic animal. See De Grummond (2006a, 74-5; 2006b)
for a discussion of Menerva’s role in the care of the “Mari babies.”
452 Palmer (1969, 301-9) argues that a shrine of Uni-Astarte is the subject of the Pyrgi laminae and not Temple B,
which he assigns to the goddess Venilia. While it is possible that the dedication was of a shrine and not the entire
temple building, there is no evidence recording the presence of the goddess Venilia. Serra Ridgway (1990, 529)
following Colonna identifies the dedicate of Temple B as Uni-Astarte and Temple A as Thesan, the Etruscan
equivalent of Greek Leucothea and Roman Mater Matuta.
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form of Uni worshipped here is associated with the Latin Juno, Phoenician Astarte, and Greek
Ino-Leucothea and Eileithuia. 453 Jannot does not assign Ino-Leucothea as the dedicatee of
Temple B and instead asserts that she was venerated in Temple A as Ino-Leucothea or Mater
Matuta. 454 The difference in attribution of the dedicatees of the temples does not rule out the
possibility of syncretism for Uni and Ino-Leucothea. 455 Perhaps, these two temples were meant
to venerate different aspects of the same goddess. This is not out of the question since well-
known sanctuaries, such as that of Hera at Paestum or the Acropolis of Athens, possessed
multiple temples dedicated to the same goddess. Paestum is also comparable in that it was a port
city. If these temples were dedicated to different goddesses, a comparison might be found in the
St. Omobono sanctuary in Rome, which possessed temples dedicated to Fortuna and Mater
Matuta. In any case, the abundance of Etruscan images of Juno Sospita, which begin in the
Archaic period, and the fact that this iconographic type may have been created by Etruscan
artists 456 lead me to conclude that the worshippers of Uni-Astarte may have associated her
directly with Juno Sospita. 457 Since Juno Sospita, Uni, and Astarte are all civic goddesses, who
are in turn associated with womanly affairs, 458 an antefix in the form of the head of Juno Sospita
would make perfect sense for the decoration of a temple in the religio-political context of a
multicultural port town. That the Etruscans may also have conceived of Uni-Astarte in the guise
of Juno Sospita may be supported by the images of other deities who have been influenced by
Near-Eastern iconography, as will be demonstrated in Chapter VII.
Thus, as we have seen in the previous chapters with examples of deities that take on
serpent and wolf forms, the choice to use animal iconography is indicative of a complex and
multivalent nature. Juno Sospita is an excellent example of an important goddess whose nature is
clouded rather than clarified by the use of a goat skin as a conspicuous element of her
iconography. Faunus’ iconography is by no means certain, and this problem stems from
conflicting ways of depicting the god. There seems to be a discrepancy between the presentation
453
Fitzmeyer 1966, 288.
454
Jannot 2005, 90.
455
Serra Ridgway (1990, 529) uses the expression “aspects of the manifold powers of the Mother Goddess Uni (or
Astarte)” to describe the dedicatees of this sanctuary.
456
Douglas 1913, 64-8.
457
Simon (2006, 61) suggests that because Astarte was a warrior goddess, the Etruscans were more likely to
conceive of Uni as being in combat.
458
Palmer (1974, 46) states the following, “If Juno’s relation to womankind remains vague in our meager sources,
Astarte had been venerated for her fecundity long before she even came to Etruria.” This supports the notion that
we must not exorcise fertility from Juno Sospita.
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of Faunus in poetry and art, which respectively depict him as a frivolous or foolish god or a
mature, stately figure. Both Faunus and Juno Sospita are also syncretized with a number of
deities from Italy and/or from foreign shores, and their distinctive character is that much more
difficult to discover as a result.
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CHAPTER 5: THE BULL
No one book can fully explain the whys and whats of the Minotaur’s existence. Most of
the time the Minotaur is able to forget that his history has been duly chronicled for
anyone to see. It has been a long time since his life had any relevance outside his
immediate circumstances, and as time passes fewer and fewer people seem to know or
care who he is, so he feels cloaked in a tenuous veil of complicated anonymity. Granted,
a creature half man and half bull doesn’t go unnoticed doing his laundry… 459
Deities in many cultures manifest themselves in the form of a bull. The bull’s imagery
appears from “late Upper Paleolithic times to the end of antiquity.” 460 The Apis and Mnevis
bulls of Egypt, the bull imagery in Crete, and the many transformations of gods into bulls in
classical mythology all testify to the prominence of this animal. 461 Furthermore, in animal
sacrifice, which formed the central core of ritual behavior in the ancient world, no animal could
claim as high a status as the bull. 462 The domesticated bull was not only the victim of sacrifice
but was also a hard-working laborer that fulfilled many roles on the farm and in the city, 463 and
at the same time the wild bull was recognized as a symbol of strength and power and appeared in
both mythic narratives and the arena as the antagonist of heroes and warriors. 464 One expression
of this legacy appears in the animal iconography of the Italian socii who fought Rome in the
Social War and used the bull as a symbol of Italia on their coins. 465
Another result of the awe man felt for the power of the bull was the creation of the man-
bull hybrid, a fearsome creature that had a long and distinguished pedigree. The earliest
appearance of the man-bull may go back as far as the fourth millennium B.C.E on cylinder seals
from Northern Mesopotamia, and the Greeks’ use of the man-bull for the figure of the Minotaur
459 Sherrill 2000, 237. The premise of Sherrill’s novel deals with the trials and tribulations of being a bull-man in
the modern day in the deep south. It offers a fictional perspective of the life of a therianthropic being. While not a
scholarly text, it is worth reading as an example of how these figures still captivate our imagination.
460 Rice 1998, 5.
461 Rice 1998, 44-50.
462 Burkert (1985, 55) states this idea in relation to Greek religion, but it is equally applicable to Roman worship as
well.
463 One other point to consider is that the slaughter of an ox denotes a certain degree of wealth and status since one
can give up so valuable an animal.
464 Toynbee 1973, 148-52.
465 Altheim (1938, 66-8) links the name Italia to the Itali, the bull people.
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probably derives from Sumerian models. 466 The bull remains a symbol of nobility, strength, and
power for modern man, but, as mentioned earlier, we are more greatly removed from nature, and
many of us reach maturity without ever seeing a bull first hand. This was not the case in
antiquity, when men would have likely seen an ox pulling a cart or plow or possibly attended a
bull sacrifice and afterwards participated in a communal feast.
The potency of the bull manifests itself in two main types of hybrid that blend the
features of bull and man. The first of these is the bull-man that possesses the body of a man and
the head of a bull. This type is perhaps the most familiar to students of myth due to the depiction
of Theseus’ adversary, the Minotaur, in this fashion. The myth of the Minotaur reached Italian
shores but met with different degrees of interest in Etruscan and Roman art. While the Romans
do not seem to have been particularly interested in the Minotaur, he was popular with the
Etruscans from early on. 467 As one would imagine, though, the use of this myth in an Etruscan
and Roman context demonstrates considerable variation from that of the Greeks. The most
notable difference can be found on an Etruscan mirror that represents the death of the Minotaur
at the hands of Hercle instead of These (Fig. V.1). 468 The identity of the Minotaur is confirmed
by the presence of an inscription labeling the bull-man as Thevrumines and the addition of
Ariatha and Mine, the Etruscan Ariadne and Minos. 469
It is not possible to dismiss this variant of the myth as Etruscan ignorance due to the
representation of Hercle in combat with the Minotaur on an earlier vessel (Fig. V.2). 470 The
substitution of Hercle for These on this piece not only calls the nature of Etruscan appropriation
of Greek myth into question but also suggests other problems such as, who made the decision to
make this replacement, artist or patron? Was there a specific reason that Hercle was substituted
466 Rice 1998, 264-5.
467 Woodford 1992, 580-1. The Romans appear to have adopted the image of the Minotaur for floor mosaics that
depicted him at the center of a labyrinth, while the Etruscans created images that reflect various stages of the mythic
narrative. Woodford goes on to suggest that the Minotaur may be a representation of death residing in an
otherworldly labyrinth. Brommer (1981, 1-12) collects images of objects from a wide chronological span and
different media to demonstrate the presence of Theseus and the Minotaur in Etruscan art.
468 From left to right, the figures present in this scene can be identified (according to inscriptions around the edge of
the mirror) as Mine (Minos), Menerva, Vile (Iolaos), Ariatha (Ariadne), and Hercle, who reclines over the corpse of
the Thevrumines (Minotaur). An unidentified youth reaching out towards a bird appears in the upper exergue of the
mirror, and a marine scene fills the lower exergue. A tendril scroll runs around the border of the mirror, and a wavy
line which may indicate the atmosphere appears within the border.
469 Here the Minotaur is labeled as such indicating his nature and heritage. He is not given his “proper” name,
Asterios or Asterion. Rice (1998, 210) notes that this name probably means “the Starry One” and may hint at a
celestial component of the Minotaur myth. Even so, the bull gods discussed in this chapter are more frequently
connected with the earth and the natural world as opposed to the heavens.
470 De Grummond 2006a, 12, 186.
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for These? Is this mirror representative of a conflation of Hercle’s labor to conquer the Cretan
Bull and Theseus’ slaying of the Minotaur? We may never be able to answer these questions
reliably. While this is an extreme (and yet not solitary) example of variation in myth, it is an
important reminder that myths, just as the gods featured in them, are fluid and changeable.
A second appearance of Hercle in combat with the Minotaur is represented on an
Etruscan black-figure amphora. In Fig. V.2, the figure on the left, wielding a club and wearing a
lion skin, is clearly Hercle, the Etruscan Herakles. Hercle lunges forward towards a fleeing
therianthrope. One might be tempted to identify the therianthrope as Pan or a satyr due to the
popularity of scenes in which these figures do battle. 471 This therianthrope is also visually
similar to the image of Pan on Fig. IV.1, a later Greek vase imported into Etruria. Nevertheless,
two elements of this scene argue for a different interpretation. The therianthrope shown here is
not ithyphallic, and the curve of the horns is closer to that of a bull than a goat or ram. G.
Camporeale and N. Spivey suggest that instead of an image of Hercle pursuing a fleeing satyr,
we should instead identify this scene as Hercle in combat with the Minotaur. 472 This is indeed
possible due to the presence of the defeated Minotaur on Fig. V.1.
Small suggests that appearances of the Minotaur in Etruscan art are due to an Etruscan
interest in monsters, or perhaps Daedalus, who immigrated to Italy, instead of the customary
Greek focus on the hero Theseus. 473 Other Etruscan and Roman images of the bull-man are
problematic, and there appears to be no scholarly consensus as to the identity of this hybrid when
it appears in art. The iconography of therianthropic bull-men is variously interpreted as
representing the Minotaur, Dionysos, or Achelous. F. Altheim also suggests that Mars was
conceived of in bull form but provides neither examples of the war god’s iconography in which
he is shown as having taurine features nor literary evidence to this effect. 474
471
Simon 2006, 51; for an example of the combat between Hercle and Satyrs see Brendel 1995, Fig. 146, 147.
472
Camporeale 1965, 118; Spivey 1987, 45.
473
Small 1986, 91.
474
Altheim (1938, 65-79) uses linguistic evidence (see note 7) and the fact that a bull was sacrificed to Mars to
indicate that Mars was conceived of as a bull. The possibility of Mars taking on bull form is intriguing; however,
there does not seem to be enough supporting evidence to conclude that he could do so. In Chapter 3, I argue for
Faunus being conceived of in wolf form based on linguistic testimony in the form of his priests’ name and an epithet
applied to the god’s name, the unusual sacrifice of a dog during the rites of the Lupercalia, and a number of artifacts
which represent a lupine god. In the case of Mars, there is no etymological connection between the name Mars and
the bull nor are there Roman or Etruscan priests that bear the name of “Bull-men.” We may also not conclude that
the sacrifice of a bull is a basis for Mars taking on taurine form due to the common occurrence of bull sacrifices to
many gods and goddesses, who did not all take on bull or cow form. As will be demonstrated in this chapter,
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A bull therianthrope identified as either the Minotaur or the god Dionysos appears on an
Etruscan red-figure cup by the Settecamini Painter (Fig. V.3). This cup is important for a
number of reasons. Scholars such as Brunn and S. Woodford have suggested that the inspiration
for this image was Euripides’ lost tragedy, Cretans. In his discussion of five Etruscan cinerary
urns of the Hellenistic Period, Brunn provides a short synopsis of the plot of the Cretans, which
begins after the birth of the Minotaur and presumably ends with Pasiphae’s suicide. 475 An ash
urn in Volterra (Fig. V.4) serves as one example of this series of cinerary urns. The figural
decoration on these urns presents the infant Minotaur in the company of Pasiphae, Minos,
Daedalus, Icarus and others. 476 These urns certainly do not represent an episode in the life of
Dionysos, as is evident from the multiplicity of figures and, as can be seen in Fig V.4, the
occasional presence of a bull, who must be none other than the Minotaur’s father. The presence
of a narrative tradition concerning the Minotaur’s childhood on the cinerary urns makes it seem
more likely to me that the Settecamini Painter also meant to represent the Minotaur and not
Dionysos. While the Settecamini Painter may or may not have been consciously trying to
represent the plot of Euripides’ play, this drama could have been the vehicle through which
traditions of the Minotaur’s childhood were transferred to Etruria. Furthermore, Brendel uses the
cup by the Settecamini Painter to demonstrate that a sophisticated Etruscan literary culture must
have existed in which the Etruscans were able to appreciate the “ferocious” or “comic” side of
Greek myth. He further states, “The absurdity of the maternal idyll serves as a reminder: even
the monster was once a dear child.” 477 If we interpret this child as the Minotaur, then the woman
holding the bull-man in her lap must be none other than Pasiphae, wife of Minos and queen of
Crete.
This argument is both logical and appealing, but a second interpretation exists. In his
discussion of the animal forms of Dionysos, Frazer suggests that a “red-figured vase” shows
Dionysos “portrayed as a calf-headed child seated on a woman’s lap.” 478 In his discussion of this
representations of bull therianthropes are problematic and not easily identifiable, and thus I must rule out the
possibility of Mars being represented in theriomorphic or therianthropic form.
475 Brunn and Körte 1872-1916, 83; Woodford 1992, 581.
476 Beazley (1947, 54) concurs with this identification; for a discussion of the cinerary urns, see Brunn and Körte
1872-1916, pl. 28,3, 29,4, 29,5, 29,5a, and 30,6.
477 Brendel 1995, 344.
478 Frazer (1922, 399) lists the various objects that represent Dionysos in partial bull form. “Types of the horned
Dionysus are found amongst the surviving monuments of antiquity. On one statuette he appears clad in a bull’s hide,
the head, horns, and hoofs hanging down behind. Again, he is represented as a child with clusters of grapes round
his brow, and a calf’s head, with sprouting horns, attached to the back of his head. On a red-figured vase the god is
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cup, J. Beazley notes that previous scholars have both shared and disputed the opinion that this
may be Dionysos. 479 Could we be looking at a representation of the infant Dionysos with one of
his nurses? No other iconographical elements represented on this plate are significant enough to
suggest that identifying the child as the Minotaur is possible. The seated female could be a
member of a royal family but may also be a nymph. The cista and goose in the background of
the image do not aid in the identification of the scene. The apparent age of the child is not a
factor in this decision as the representation of children and infants may or may not reflect the
actual age of the individual depicted by a piece of art, and realistic representation of children
does not begin until the Hellenistic Period. 480
In the context of Greek myth, Dionysos was born with bull’s horns, but the myths do not
state that he was born with a calf’s head. 481 This discrepancy between literary tradition and
artistic evidence does not rule out the possibility that the seated woman holding this monstrous
child could be Ino cradling her ward 482 or one of the nymphs of Nysa, who were also reputed to
be nurses of Dionysos. The outside of the cup is even decorated with a Dionysiac theme, the
sparagmos of Pentheus; thus perhaps two myths related to Dionysos are represented on the
cup. 483 Nevertheless, I remain hesitant to accept this figure as the god of the vine, due to the
aforementioned association of a bull-headed child with the literary tradition of Eurpides’
Cretans.
Another controversial piece is a fragmentary terracotta revetment plaque that once
decorated the Regia in the Roman Forum (Fig. V.5). The plaque includes a bull-headed man
wearing a short tunic and two flanking panthers. This bull-man has been identified as a
Minotaur by N. Winter, who views the Regia plaque as a demonstrable link between the
terracotta decoration of the Regia and the Bacchiad family of Corinth. 484 This connection to
Corinth likely means that the panthers flanking the therianthropic figure are somehow tied to the
animal style prominent on Corinthian pottery. I. Iacopi suggests a different identification, and
portrayed as a calf-headed child seated on a woman’s lap.” Frazer does not, however, provide any further details or
citations for these objects. In the case of Fig. V.3, we may speculate that this is the cup Frazer mentions.
479
Beazley 1947, 54; De Ridder 1902, 624-5; Frazer 1922, 399.
480
Pollitt 1986, 128.
481
Eur. Bacch. 100.
482
Pipili (1991, 145) notes that the tradition of Ino taking on the care of Dionysos may not have been a secondary
tradition everywhere and that later Roman writers seemed fond of this version of the story.
483
Beazley 1947, 54-5.
484 Winter, 2006, 349-55.
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efers to the bull-headed man as Dionysos the bull, who has been “assimilated to a prototype of
the Minotaur” and suggests that this “hybrid type derives from Greece, probably through
Cumae.” 485 She then interprets the panthers as animals that typically accompany Dionysos or
animals that he sometimes rides. E.R. Young, on the other hand, suggests that Dionysos, when
depicted in therianthropic form is represented as a bull with a man’s head and that this bull-man
may be an attendant to a god “like” Dionysos or Zagreus. 486 Woodford suggests that this bull-
man may be an “anonymous creature serving either decorative or apotropaic purposes.” 487 That
there was no cult of Dionysos honored in the Regia need not deter us from linking the revetment
plaque to the god, as the scenes represented in pediments or sculptural friezes are not often
directly linked to the honoree of a temple. 488 Still, the argument that panthers are a creature of
Dionysos is not strong enough to identify the Regia bull-man as the god of the vine. This may be
nothing more than a monster placed in a decorative frieze, such as the many sirens and sphinges
that appear on Corinthian pottery, 489 and thus the panther may have no bearing on the identity of
the bull-man.
Thus, there is no scholarly consensus as to the identity of the bull therianthrope on either
the Settecamini Painter’s cup or the Regia plaque. Neither of these pieces bears an inscription or
sufficient iconographical or narrative details to secure the identity of the bull-man beyond a
shadow of a doubt. Perhaps there was a conceptual link between the Minotaur and Dionysos, for
Dionysos does play a role in the narrative of Theseus’ saga. 490 It is the abandonment of Ariadne,
the Minotaur’s half-sister and the princess who facilitated Theseus’ victory of the monster, that
allows Dionysos to take a wife. It is surely not coincidence that the Minotaur’s sister is the bride
of a bull-god. 491 A. Evans takes this hypothetical connection one step further and boldly states
that the Minotaur is one incarnation of Dionysos and that the stories of the Minotaur are
485 Iacopi 1976, 35.
486 Young 1972, 92.
487 Woodford 1992, 579.
488 Brown and Scott (1985, 186) list the deities with cults in the Regia as Mars and Ops Consiva. The possibility of
a cult of Mars in the Regia may return us to Altheim’s suggestion that Mars could be conceived as a bull god, but
there is no evidence to suggest that the bull-man on this plaque is Mars.
489 Winter 2006, 349-55.
490 From the outset, the chain of myths which leads to the birth of the Minotaur is full of bull, so to speak.
491 For the identification of the bull-man on the Regia plaque, Altheim (1938, 70-4) presupposes an Etruscan original
covered over by a Greek conception and follows the general trend of Kerényi, Evans, and Bevan when suggesting
that bull gods find their ultimate origin in Minoan religion.
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epresentative of a Minoan precursor to Dionysos, the horned-god. 492 In addition to the possible
links found in the mythic narrative, a few factors that may argue in favor of this possibility relate
to the presence of a Cretan version of Dionysos. These are the common tie in mythical traditions
involving the consumption of raw flesh, and the presence of Dionysos’ name amongst Linear B
tablets. One suggestion of Bevan may explain the prominence of so many bull-headed items
from Bronze Age Crete. Bevan states that “… it is also possible to interpret some episodes in the
story of Theseus as allegorical versions of the defeat of this old religion.” 493 Perhaps we may
speculate that the myth of the Minotaur is a reflection of priests participating in an animal
masquerade linked to a sacrifice; after all, it was the Minotaur who devoured the seven youths
and seven maidens sent to Crete by the Athenians. The relationship between Dionysos
(especially a bull-formed Dionysos or Dionysos Tauromorphos), the Minotaur, and Crete bears
further investigation.
The relationship between the Greek Dionysos and his Italian counterparts Liber and
Fufluns is neither simple nor straightforward. The god of the vine and fertility could be found in
Italy under the Latin name Liber Pater and the Etruscan names Pacha 494 and Fufluns. The name
Fufluns is possibly related to the Etruscan and Umbrian words for bud or sprout, 495 and he was
likely a local vegetation god of the city Populonia, although the exact nature of the connection
between Fufluns and Populonia is not entirely clear. 496 It is difficult to determine when the
Italian and Greek identities of the god of the vine merged, but it is possible that Liber was not
immediately subsumed by the identity of Dionysos. 497 Altheim demonstrates that Greek
equivalents for this god’s Roman and Etruscan names further cloud the matter of this identity;
the cult title /% & ( corresponds to Liber, B B& ( to Fufluns, and B4 ? ( to Pacha. 498 A
492
Evans (1988, 46, 57). Evan’s text has not met with favorable reviews. See Seaford 1989, 145 for a rather
scathing appraisal of this work.
493
Bevan 1986, 85.
494
Jannot (2005, 160) suggests that Fufluns was a name drawn from mythic narrative and that Pacha was a distinct
cult name. Cristofani and Martelli (1978, 130) note that the syncretism of Fufluns and Bacchus is attested in the
fifth C BCE.
495
Bonfante 1993, 222; De Grummond 2006a, 113.
496
Bonfante 1993, 222. Altheim (1938, 151-3) notes that there is a connection between Dionysos and Hephaistos on
Naxos and a connection between Fufluns and Sethlans at Populonia. Jannot (2005, 161) notes that the exact
relationship between Fufluns and Populonia is not clear.
497
Bruhl 1953, 19.
498
Altheim 1938, 150-1. Cristofani and Martelli (1978, 127-8) also point to a similar formulation of Pa?a to
B4 ? (, and indicate that Dionysos B ? D ( was a particular aspect of this god associated with Corinth and
Sikyon. This would link Fufluns Pa? e to the orgiastic component of the cult of Bacchus.
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ecent discussion of the perception of this god of the vine and fertility appears in a treatment of
the well-known megalographic frieze in Room 5 of the Villa of the Mysteries. D. Wilburn notes
the difficulty in choosing a name for the reclining god on the east wall of this room. This god
might have been recognized as Dionysos, Liber, Fufluns, or perhaps Loufir depending on the
chronology and culture of the viewer. 499 On the other hand, Etruscan mirrors dating to the 4 th C
BCE indicate that Fufluns became associated with traditional tales of Dionysos, such as being
born from the thigh of Zeus (Etruscan Tinia) and journeying to the underworld to rescue his
mother Semele (Etruscan Semla). 500
In any case, Fufluns/Liber was likely one of the most prominent gods in Etruria and his
presence was known in central Italy by the 7 th C BCE. 501 Altheim further notes there were
country Liberalia/Dionysia in Italy in the 6 th C BCE. 502 Another indicator of Fufluns/Liber’s
popularity is his presence among the Eleusinian gods, Demeter, Iacchos, and Persephone, who
are found on Italian soil under the names Ceres, Liber, and Libera, the Aventine Triad,
introduced to Rome in 496 BCE. 503 Iacchos remains a puzzling figure, who could have either
originated as an incarnation of Bacchus or became syncretized with him over time; in any case,
Bacchus was firmly associated with the Underworld in Italy. 504 The Locri plaques serve as
visual evidence for this connection, 505 and Fufluns also appears on a portion of the Piacenza liver
that suggests his nature as a chthonic deity. 506 One might expect to find evidence of Dionysos’
taurine nature in these associations due to his close connection to the earth, yet it does not appear
here.
499
Wilburn 2000, 14-15; Wilburn 2000, 50-8. Loufir, mentioned here for the first time, was a Samnite god that may
be the same as Latin Liber.
500
De Grummond 2006a, 116.
501
Bonfante 1993, 222; De Grummond 2006a, 113.
502
Altheim 1938, 159-60. Altheim (1938, 125) also sums up his position on the nature of Dionysos as follows: “All
those details, in which hitherto his [Liber] special character as an Italian deity has been seen, are revealed on closer
scrutiny as allusions to Dionysos.”
503
Bruhl (1953, 13,15) mentions the adoption of the cult of the Aventine Triad in 496 BC by the order of the
Sibylline Books and states that the festival of the Liberalia was more ancient than the Cerealia indicating an
indigenous cult dedicated to Liber. Nilsson (175, 12) further notes the popularity of the Eleusinian gods in Magna
Graecia, and that representations of Orpheus and the underworld appear on Apulian vases from the beginning of the
third century BCE and the plays of Plautus reference Bacchants and the Bacchanalia in the 2 nd C BCE. In
conjunction with this other evidence, Nilsson cites an inscription (Nilsson 1975, Fig. 1) from Cumae, “forbidding
those who have not been initiated to Bacchus to be buried in a certain place.” This inscription dates to the first half
of the fifth C BCE.
504
Nilsson 1975, 118.
505
Nilsson 1975, 120.
506
De Grummond (2006a, 44) notes that Fufluns is present in houses 9 and 24 on the liver. House 9 is in a region of
the liver associated with infernal gods.
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The Bacchic god offered man the gift of the vine, a source of solace to ease daily woes,
but he was also unpredictable, a wild and savage god whose horrific vengeance was capable of
terrifying even his most devout followers. 507 This dual nature of the god is reflected in the
choice of animals used to represent him. While the bull may be peaceful, he is also a fearsome
beast.
Poseidon is scarcely a fertility-god like Dionysos: so perhaps it was the strength
and anger of the animal whose tread shakes the ground, that made it a symbol for
the god of earthquakes (whom Hesiod called “bull-like earth-shaker”). Poseidon
could send an earthquake to terrify human-beings; and for the same purpose he
sent a bull to ravage Crete, in punishment for Minos’ lack of respect. 508
We must ask ourselves, though, if this unpredictable and savage nature is reflected in the Italian
counterparts of Dionysos, and if Fufluns or Liber were conceived of in a taurine incarnation. As
noted earlier, there are no secure representations of Fufluns or Liber in the form of a bull. It may
be that the Etruscans and Romans conceived of their gods Fufluns and Liber as distinct from this
facet of Dionysos’ nature. Even so, Fufluns and Liber were gods of fertility and vegetation, the
underworld, and regeneration, 509 aspects appropriate to theriomorphic and therianthropic deities,
and perhaps the character of Bacchic religion may point to an aspect of the god of the vine not
revealed by his iconography in Italy.
That Dionysiac cult in Italy took forms similar to the Greek cult practiced in Asia Minor
is indicated by epigraphic evidence that preserves Greek cult titles and names. 510 All of this
indicates that a conception of Dionysos known to us from Euripides’ Bacchae was likely
connected to the native Fufluns and Liver, and as M.P. Nilsson notes, “The numerous
representations of Dionysiac subjects and sometimes of Bacchic mysteries prove how popular
the Bacchic religion was in Italy and the western provinces.” 511 Determining at what point
Dionysos “ends,” and Fufluns or Liber “begins” is no easy matter.
507
Eur. Bacch. 1153-1215. The interaction between the Chorus and Agave, after she returns bearing the head of her
son, demonstrates that, even though the chorus was triumphant, they cringe at the result of their god’s anger.
508
Bevan 1986, 84.
509
Wilburn 2000, 53,55,
510
Nilsson 1975, 54. Some of the cult titles reference bulls, i.e. the dancers who were named B & # Three
inscriptions which reference Greek cult names were found in Rome (ILS 3369), Cora (ILS3367), and Puteoli (ILS
4061).
511
Nilsson 1975, 78. Wiseman (2005, 73) states, in relation to Dionysos, that “Perhaps the free god of Rome
imitated the free god of Athens right from the start.” Altheim (1938, 294) further points out that when the Romans
discussed the Bacchic Conspiracy, that the cult, in its Greek from, migrated from South Italy to Etruria and then to
Rome.
103

The rites of Bacchic cult practice reflect the character of a liminal deity who transgressed
social norms. R.P. Winnington-Ingram, commenting on the Greek cult of Dionysos, states the
following, “His worship included wild rites, devoted to the production of ecstasy by music and
dancing, by bloody sacrifice, by the sheer intoxication of being one of a band of worshippers, a
thiasos.” 512 In this context, Dionysos represents an elemental force, a wildness sometimes
repressed by civilization. The mountain dances and the wild cries of “euhoi!” were outside the
daily experience of the Romans and Etruscans. Perhaps Dionysiac worship is a way for man to
come to terms with his animal, primal nature, and this may be the message of Euripides’
Bacchae. 513 E.R. Dodds states, “To resist Dionysos is to repress the elemental in one’s own
nature…” 514 Taurine imagery used to represent Dionysos, i.e. a man with bestial anatomy, could
have been chosen as a way of representing his fundamentally savage nature. 515 This animalistic
nature is reflected in Dionysos’ character in the Bacchae and also, most vividly, in the rites of
the ( and the t M , . 516 It is difficult for us to imagine a group of crazed
worshippers actually tearing apart a wild animal and consuming its flesh raw; on the other hand,
a symbolic representation of this act may serve the same function of blurring the boundary of
nature and culture and embracing man’s primal character. Due to its character as a mystery
religion, it is not clear what happened during the Bacchic rites. We do know that this cult was
popular in Etruria, and Livy states that the cult of Bacchus spread from Etruria to Rome where it
met with opposition from the ruling class. 517 Livy’s account is as follows:
The following year [i.e., 186 BCE] diverted the consuls, Spurius Postumius
Albinus and Quintus Marcius Phillipus from the army and the supervision of wars
and their provinces to the punishment of an internal conspiracy… The
investigation of secret plots was voted to both consuls. An unknown Greek priest
and soothsayer had first come into Etruria with none of those arts, many of which
512
Winnington-Ingram 1997, 1. De Grummond (2006a, 119-21) describes a scene on an Etruscan mirror in which
Fufluns is accompanied by Vesuna who is “perhaps meant to be understood as a maenad in ecstasy, since she is
dressed in an animal skin and seems to hold a thyrsus in her proper right hand…” Vesuna is thus dressed in the
traditional garb of the Bacchae.
513
Dodds 1960, xx.
514
Dodds 1960, xvi.
515
In reference to Jung’s interpretation of bull myths, Rice (1998, 262) dismisses the idea that “myths of the bull
represented attempts to recognize and by recognition to overcome man’s animal nature.” He does so by stating,
“This explanation hardly seems adequate.” I do not agree.
516
Dodds (1960, xviii) notes that the most common animal victim of the ( and the t M , was the
bull, and in this animal, we meet one of the animal incarnations of the god. He states, “We may regard the
t M , , then, as a rite in which the gods was in some sense present in his beast-vehicle and was in that shape
torn and eaten by his people.”
517
Livy. 39.8-9.1.
104

the most learned people of all brought to us for the tending of our minds and
bodies. He was not one who, by revealing his worship nor by declaring openly
his business and teaching trained our minds in error but was a high priest of
hidden and nocturnal rites. There were initiations, which were passed down to a
few at first, then they began to be spread commonly through both men and
women. The desires of wine and feasts were added to the ceremonies, so that the
minds of many more might be lured to the rites. When wine, night, and the
mingling of both men and women, and also tender youth with an older age,
inflamed their minds and destroyed every bit of modesty, sexual perversions of all
types first began to occur, since each one had the ready pleasure to which the
nature of their lust was rather disposed. The was not only one form of vice, the
indiscriminate sex of free-born women, but also false witnesses, counterfeit seals
and wills and evidence from those offices emerged: from the same place there
were poisonings and secret murders such that sometimes bodies were not always
visible for burial. Many things were dared by deceit, more things dared by
violence. Violence was hidden because no voice of public outcry was able to be
heard through the shouting and the crashing of the drums and cymbals. The
debacle of this evil spread form Etruria to Rome just as the contagion of a
disease. 518
The exact reasons for the Roman Senate’s suppression of the Bacchic cult in Italy in the second
century BCE are not known, but Wilburn suggests that the Senate may have sought to remove
the orgiastic elements just described from the worship of Bacchus/Liber in order to preserve
proper forms of state religion. 519 In a similar fashion, L. Bonfante notes that epigraphic and
iconographic evidence concerning Fufluns indicates a “barbarian’s-eye view” of Dionysos. 520 It
518 Livy. 39.8-9.1. Latin Text taken from Livy in Fourteen Volumes, Loeb Classical Library, Vol. 12, edited by E.T.
Sage, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1936, pp. 241, 243. (Translation by Author.)
Insequens annus Sp. Postumium Albinum et Q. Marcium Philippum consules ab exercitu bellorumque et
provinciarum cura ad intestinae conjurationis vindictam avertit… Consulibus ambobus quaestio de clandestinis
conjurationibus decreta est. Graecus ignobilis in Etruriam primum venit nulla cum arte earum, quas multas ad
animorum corporumque cultum nobis eruditissima omnium gens invexit, sacrificulus et vates; nec is qui aperta
religione, propalam et quaestum et disciplinam profitendo, animos errore imbueret, sed occultorum et nocturnorum
antistes sacrorum. Initia erant, quae primo paucis tradita sunt, deinde uulgari coepta sunt per viros mulieresque.
Additae uoluptates religioni vini et epularum, quo plurium animi illicerentur. cum vinum animos [incendissent], et
nox et mixti feminis mares, aetatis tenerae majoribus, discrimen omne pudoris exstinxissent, corruptelae primum
omnis generis fieri coeptae, cum ad id quisque, quo natura pronioris libidinis esset, paratam voluptatem haberet. Nec
unum genus noxae, stupra promiscua ingenuorum feminarumque erant, sed falsi testes, falsa signa testamentaque et
indicia ex eadem officina exibant: venena indidem intestinaeque caedes, ita ut ne corpora quidem interdum ad
sepulturam exstarent. Multa dolo, pleraque per vim audebantur. occulebat vim quod prae ululatibus tympanorumque
et cymbalorum strepitu nulla vox quiritantium inter stupra et caedes exaudiri poterat. Huius mali labes ex Etruria
Romam veluti contagione morbi penetrauit.
519 Wilburn 2000, 55. For a further discussion of the Bacchic Conspiracy, see Nilsson 1975, 14-21. Livy suggests
that the Bacchants participated in many kinds of base behavior, and the Senate may have believed this.
520 Bonfante 1993, 222.
105

was likely difficult even for the ancients to separate the identities of Dionysos, Liber, and
Fufluns.
This examination of the bull therianthrope has thus far focused on a hybrid composed of
the body of a man and the head of a bull, but the mingling of human and bull form is not
confined to one iconographic type. 521 Classical art preserves numerous examples of bulls with
the head of a man, the most well-known Etruscan example of which appears in the Tomb of the
Bulls (Fig. V.6). 522 The Tomb of the Bulls draws its name from the presence of a bull reclining
and a charging bull with a man’s head in the upper register of decoration on the back wall of the
tomb. Two erotic scenes are present in the same register of decoration as the bulls, but there is a
great deal more painted decoration on the walls of this tomb, among which is a representation of
Achilles’ murder of the Trojan prince Troilos. It is a fair question to ask whether or not the
artist, or artists, who painted these frescoes meant for there to be a unified theme present in the
decoration. Is the man-bull related to the scene of the death of Troilos? There is no indication
that this is the case. Nevertheless, scholars, such as J. Oleson have argued that tomb is unified
by references to Apollo, in the presence of an object he identifies as a sun, and Dionysos, in the
form of ivy leaves. 523 If one accepts this proposal, then associating this bull with Dionysos
might be attractive. However, as stated earlier, it seems more likely that this is meant to be an
image of either Achelous or an unidentified river god. One last detail deserves further thought.
There is a direct contrast between the more normal, reclining bull and the bull with a man’s head.
One peacefully sits amongst the grass while the other, in an ithyphallic state, charges forward
with his head lowered and horns poised to gore the amorous couple before him. The viewer is
thus faced with a visual reminder of the unpredictable nature of the bull that could be both
benign and peaceful but also stirred to violent action.
Unfortunately, the identity of the man-bull in the Tomb of the Bulls, like the identities of
the therianthropes on the terracotta plaque from the Regia and the red-figure vase by the
Settecamini Painter, is not secure. He is depicted with his head down, moving forward as if
charging a pair of men engaged in homosexual activity. The significance of this component of
the scene is difficult to interpret and will likely continue to elude proper interpretation, but the
521 Gais (1978, 356) states that the man-headed bull derives from an Oriental prototype. This iconography may have
reached Etruria through Greeks living in South Italy.
522
523 Oleson 1975, 195.
106

appearance of a bull-headed man in the Tomb of the Bulls is far from the only example of this
iconographic type in funerary art. Altheim states that this figure “appears in direct connexion
with the demons of the Etruscan underworld.” 524 J.-R. Jannot also notes images of the horned
god used as funerary masks in different media. 525 To my knowledge, no existing mythological
narrative can be associated with the painted scene in the Tomb of the Bulls, but the iconographic
type of a man-headed bull is commonly associated with river gods, in particular the god
Achelous.
The Achelous river held a special place in Greek myth as king of all rivers in Greece, the
father of the Sirens, the most revered of the three thousand offspring of Okeanos and Tethys. 526
Whereas the other deities addressed in this dissertation all possess characteristics that relate them
to the natural world, Achelous is an actual personification of a geographic feature and thus
cannot be separated from the natural world in any way. The most widely known narrative
containing this deity is the tale of his pursuit of Herakles’ wife Deianeira, of which the two most
important literary versions appear in Sophocles’ Trachiniae and Ovid’s Metamorphoses. 527
Achelous appears in Greek, Etruscan, and Roman contexts and takes on numerous forms. River-
gods could take on the shape of a youth with bull’s horns, a bull with a man’s head, a horned
merman, or an older man bearing a horn of plenty. According to R.M. Gais, Achelous does not
appear as a youth in Greek art, 528 but in Etruria on a bronze mirror depicting the conflict between
Hercle and Achlae (the Etruscan form of the name Achelous), Achlae’s face is un-bearded (Fig.
V.7). 529 This mirror depicts the conventional scene, of Herakles and Achelous’ combat over the
maiden Deianeira, which Ovid records in Metamorphoses IX:1-88. 530 Achelous tells his tale to
Theseus and describes taking on bull form to combat Herakles as follows:
Thus, after he [Herakles] conquered my second form, only my third
Shape of a savage bull remained. I fought back, my limbs
Changed to a bull’s. From the left, he wrapped his arms
Around my neck, and dragging me as I galloped off,
My horns, bent down, pierced the hard ground, and he
524
Altheim 1938, 70.
525
Jannot 1974, 778-82.
526
Brewster 1997, 9.
527
Soph. Trach. 9ff; Ov. Met. IX.1ff. Luce (1923, 429) remarks that the shortest and most complete account of this
myth, which appears in Apollodorus’ Library, also possesses the least literary value.
528
Gais 1978, 358.
529
Rix 1991, Vc S.23. De Grummond (2006a, 183) notes that this mirror also happens to bear the only inscribed
image of Achelous in Etruscan art.
530
Jannot (1974, 767-9) cites numerous examples of this combat in Etruscan art.
107

Layed me out in the deep sand.
That was not enough: While he held on tight to my tough
Right horn, he broke it, and tore it away from my mangled forehead.
The Naiads took it, and filling it with fruits and scented flowers,
Made it sacred; Blessed Abundance is wealthy on account of my horn. 531
As a result of this battle, Herakles won the cornucopia, a horn of plenty that was
identified with either the horn Herakles tore from Achelous’ head or a horn taken from
Amalthea, the goat who nursed the infant Zeus. It could be that the conflict between Herakles
and Achelous is meant to represent the dangers of river navigation and to demonstrate Herakles’
role as a bearer of civilization and association with water and fertility. 532 The fierce and
powerful bull deity must be overcome or tamed in order for man to prosper; we may again be
facing a myth representing the tension between nature and culture. In any case, the presence of a
therianthrope on the mirror in Fig. V.7 bearing the name Achlae proves that the Etruscans were
aware of his struggle with Hercle and may support the identification of other unidentified man-
bulls as Achelous.
The power of the bull and its prominent horns may also explain why Achelous’ head was
used as an apotropaic device 533 on antefixes 534 (Fig. V.8) and amulets 535 (Fig. V.9) or perhaps
even on furniture bosses 536 (Fig. V.10). The bull therianthrope, like other figures already
discussed in this study, is often used as a charm to ward off evil. Like the figure of Juno Sospita
addressed in Chapter Four, Achelous is commonly used on antefixes as architectural decoration.
531
Ov. Met. IX.80-8. Latin Text taken from Ovid Metamorphoses Books IX-XV, Vol. 4, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994, p. 8. (Translation by Author.)
sic quoque devicto restabat tertia tauri / forma trucis. tauro mutatus membra rebello. / induit ille toris a laeva parte
lacertos, / admissumque trahens sequitur, depressaque dura / cornua figit humo, meque alta sternit harena. / nec satis
hoc fuerat: rigidum fera dextera cornu / dum tenet, infregit, truncaque a fronte revellit. / naides hoc, pomis et odoro
flore repletum, / sacrarunt; divesque meo Bona Copia cornu est.
532
Neilson 2006, 8-10.
533
Holloway 1986, 449.
534
Altheim (1938, 69) notes the ubiquity of such antefixes by stating, “We know from Etruscan art those very
common representations of the ‘river-god’ or ‘Achelous.’ They show the mask of an elderly, bearded man, with wet
dripping beard, and with the ears and horns of a bull. He appears on gear and ornament of various kinds, but above
all on roof-terracottas of Etruscan or Etruscanizing style. They extend from Veii, Falerii and Satricum to Campania,
and thus cover the whole of middle Italy.” See Isler 1981, 12-36 in LIMC for a demonstration of the popularity of
Achelous.
535
The Etruscans were master jewelers, as is shown by this piece decorated with the filigree and granulation
techniques. This amulet was likely a personal apotropaic device and may have possessed a “magical” function in
addition to being a luxury object. Higgins (1961, 152) indicates that this object was meant to bring good luck to its
wearer is confirmed by another necklace that possesses not only an Achelous head but also two different types of
bullae, round and heart-shaped.
536
Buranelli (1992, 56) notes the problem of determining the exact function of the bronze bosses which may either
be used to decorate furniture or are meant as tomb decoration.
108

In an architectural context, both Juno Sospita and Achelous are interpreted as functioning in the
same way as a Gorgoneion, another common type of antefix in Etruria and Latium.
Unfortunately, the identity of the apotropaic horned-god on the antefix is called into question by
both Brendel and Luce, who propose that these horned gods are actually images of Dionysos due
to the presence of Satyrs and Maenads on similar shields and antefixes. 537 The similarity of
these antefixes to theatrical masks may also argue for a Dionysiac presence on these objects.
Brendel states the following:
In Greek art this was the traditional image of the river-god Achelous, and therefore the
Tarquinian masks, also have often been so named. Yet it is doubtful if a mythology so
exclusively Greek applies here. More likely one might describe this demonic face as the
bull-horned Dionysos, since other masks belonging to the same class often represent
Bacchic company, such as satyrs. 538
This is a similar sentiment to Luce’s argument discussed earlier in this study, 539 but it is
not clear how reinterpreting the identity of the horned god as Dionysos frees the viewer from a
Greek interpretation of this Etruscan object. If we wish to overcome a Greek bias, we must
instead consider the Etruscan context and appropriation of the Greek model. Both Brendel and
Jannot note that these decorative, bronze shields are found in Archaic tombs, and suggest a
function similar to antefixes such as Fig. V.8, i.e. warding away evil spirits. 540 Shields bearing
images of fearsome gods such as Achelous may also have had an apotropaic function during the
life of their owner, and there are countless representations of shields bearing gorgoneia. Another
factor to consider is that Achelous’ liminal nature and therianthropic form fit in quite well with
the Bacchic thiasos composed of Satyrs, Silens, and Pans, who are hybrids of humans and
animals, as well as the Maenads who engage in activities that blur the boundaries of civilization
and wild nature. Rice suggests that the mask that functions in dramatic performance is, by
nature, both otherworldly and liminal. 541 W.F. Otto also sees Dionysos’ connection to the mask
as an indicator of his primal and chthonic nature. 542 It is not possible to refute either Rice or Otto
in relation to the general nature of Dionysos, but neither scholar’s interpretation of the
significance of the mask rules out the possibility of antefixes representing the god Achelous.
537 Brendel 1995, 213; Luce 1923, 430. Buranelli (1992, 56) notes that Fig. V.10 was found with similar bosses
bearing the heads of rams and lions as opposed to Satyrs and Maenads.
538 Brendel 1995, 213-4.
539 Luce 1923, 430.
540 Brendel 1995, 214; Jannot 1974, 780.
541 Rice 1998, 225.
542 Otto 1965, 88
109

Perhaps we are meant to interpret the antefix (Fig. V.8) and the boss (Fig. V.10) as masks of the
river deity, who is also primal, liminal, and otherworldly. Since we know that the Etruscans
could conceive of Achelous as a man-headed bull due to his presence on the mirror (Fig V.7), we
are perhaps better off identifying unlabeled bull-headed men as the great river deity than as the
god of wine.
One last piece that relates to the bull-gods of Etruria is a bucchero oinochoe decorated
with the head of what may be an anthropomorphized bull’s or calf’s head (Fig. V.11). This
rather fantastic vessel makes use of the mouth of the bull/calf as its spout. The elaborate design
hints at something beyond usage as a daily item. If we are meant to associate the contents of the
vessel with the bull as a representative of a god, then we are again faced with a question of
ambiguous identity. If we choose to associate this vessel with Achelous, the connection is quite
obvious. Achelous is the personification of a river, and pouring water from this pitcher mimics
the flowing water. Bacchus/Liber’s connection to wine also fits this interpretation, and we must
remember that his association with liquids does not end there. Bacchus can be found in the
power of all rushing fluids. 543 In relation to the cult of Dionysos, Dodds writes:
His [Dionysos’] domain is, in Plutarch’s words, the whole of the E M ( -
not only the liquid fire in the grape, but the sap thrusting in a young tree, the
blood pounding in the veins of a young animal, all the mysterious and
uncontrollable tides that ebb and flow in the life of nature. 544
Thus, if this is a ritual vessel, association with either god is possible. If this oinochoe was used
for pouring libations of wine, this vessel may be tied to a bull-formed Bacchus.
Altheim has linked the relief decoration, which consists of youths engaging in a bull
game or hunt, on the body of this pitcher to an Umbrian rite in honor of the goddess Tursa Jovia.
He suggests that this scene of youths grasping bulls by the horns and legs is the Etruscan
equivalent of the Umbrian ritual in which cows were released, hunted, and then sacrificed.
Furthermore, he traces the origins of this rite to a hypothetical, native, Italian bull cult. 545 The
suggestion that this vessel may represent Umbrian religious practice is appealing, but the action
on the vessel does not seem violent enough to be construed as a hunt. M. Sprenger and G.
Bartoloni instead suggest that this is the myth of Hercle’s contest with the Cretan Bull, which
543 Bruhl 1953, 17
544 Dodds 1960, xii.
545 Altheim 1938, 73-9.
110

would then be repeated six times around the vessel. 546 I again object to this interpretation, not
only because the scene is repeated, in identical fashion six times, but also because there is little
conflict between the man and bull. Brendel offers one last interpretation that may be closer to
the mark; he sees neither a religious rite nor a myth but instead a series of “bull tamers”
represented on the vessel. 547
As we can see from the literary and archaeological evidence presented here, bull imagery
was quite prominent in ancient classical religion. The bull denoted an elemental power
associated with both land and sea in addition to the underworld and could also be used as a
symbol of strength and savagery. The fearsome nature of the bull hybrid is clear when we
examine gods such as Dionysos and Achelous who could manifest themselves in bull form.
Even though we cannot be certain that Liber and Fufluns partook of the bullish persona of
Dionysos Tauromorphos, certain qualities of these Italian deities indicate many affinities with
the liminal and transgressive nature of this aspect of Dionysos. In addition, the Minotaur known
for his cruelty and the consumption of human flesh also appears in Italy and, at least in one
example, seems to possess a function similar to the figure of Achelous commonly represented in
architectural decoration. While the general meaning of the animal iconography of bull
therianthropes is thus easily grasped, it is not always clear which god is being represented. As
we have seen, scholars differ as to whether the horned god represented on antefixes, such as Fig.
V.8, is Achelous or Dionysos. This ambiguity may be intentional and both figures would have
shared the power to ward off evil spirits. One important point that we may take away from this
is that from an early time, as shown by the Regia Plaque (Fig. V.5), therianthropic deities
appeared in Roman and Etruscan art. The power of hybrid imagery was great and lasted for
quite some time beyond these early phases as well.
546 Sprenger and Bartoloni 1983, 87.
547 Brendel 1995, 140.
111

CHAPTER 6: AVIANS
Gods and birds shared a mastery of the skies not possessed by humans or other
animals; and it was not surprising that some birds, in their strength or beauty,
should have been regarded as divine. 548
In so far as the power of flight may seem both magical and entrancing, birds have always
inspired awe in ground dwellers. In many mythologies, the sky is held to be the dwelling place
of the gods, and through flight birds seem able to communicate and mingle with divinities. Sky
gods such as the Greek Zeus, Egyptian Ra, Norse Odin, Roman Jupiter, and many more reigned
supreme over their respective pantheons. Given the importance of the sky in ancient
cosmologies, it is not surprising that birds held a special place in Etruscan and Roman religion;
one need only recall that the founding of the city of Rome included an augury contest between
Romulus and Remus. 549
Agreeing to arbitrate their quarrel by [observing] birds of good omen, they took up
positions by themselves. They say six vultures were seen by Remus, and double
that number by Romulus. On the other hand, there are those who say that Remus
truly saw his six, but Romulus lied about his twelve, but when Remus came to
him, Romulus then saw twelve. 550
This is far from the only example of avian omens that appear in Roman history. One prodigy
from Roman “mythical history” can be found in the story of Lucumo’s journey to Rome in which
an eagle snatched and returned his cap while he was on the Janiculum hill. 551 Historians also
record portents during the reign of Augustus, such as the episode of the galinas albas. 552 Thus,
augury was important not only because birds could reveal the will of the gods, but also since the
Romans believed that the practice of augury was used from the earliest days of their history.
548 Bevan 1986, 39.
549 Jannot (2005, 29) notes that the Romans may have borrowed their practice of augury from the Etruscans.
550 Plut. Vit. Rom. IX.5 Greek Text taken from Plutarch Lives: Theseus and Romulus, Lycurgus and Numa, Solon
and Publicola, Loeb Classical Library, Vol. 1, edited by G.P. Goold, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press,
1998, p. 114. (Translation by Author.)
" ) 3 * X , ( B B b " ?" ,(7 s M 1 vw K 7
& , ( ) 1 ;w" &K M 5 (# - ) . ) ;w A &' ( D 7 T ) . ;
w" & 9 C& ( ) ;w 7 >( 1 ;w" &K M 5 ###
551 Liv. I.XXXIV.8-9. De Grummond (2006c, 42) briefly explores the implications and significance of this episode
in relation to Etruscan prophets.
552 Plin. HN. 15.136-37.
112

This means of prophecy 553 was one of the Romans’ oldest customs, and the position of augur
held high status. 554
The notion that birds served as a connection between the gods and man can perhaps be
seen in the Etruscan convention of placing wings on prophetic figures. The Chalchas mirror is
one such example (Fig. VI.1). 555 Prophets cross boundaries between the worlds of gods and men
by revealing the intentions of the gods or making predictions of the future. Thus, the presence of
wings may be a metaphorical way of showing a prophet’s ability to open channels between the
mortal and immortal realms. Wings indicate a super-human, perhaps even divine, nature, 556 and
the sprouting of wings from the back of a prophet situates him/her amongst the ranks of
divinities such as Lasas, Vanths, and other spirits who bear such a mark. To further demonstrate
the possibility of associating wings with prophecy and fate, one might consider the figure of
Athrpa, who also appears on an engraved Etruscan mirror (Fig. VI.2). Athrpa has been
interpreted as the Etruscan equivalent of the Greek Atropos, the Fate who cuts the cord of life
and determines that it is a mortal’s time to die. 557 Wings, serving as visual signifiers to indicate a
figure who has transcended the normal boundaries of nature, 558 are appropriate on this mirror
which demonstrates the fruition of divine will and the bearing out of future events through the
fated deaths of Atunis and Meleacr.
In addition to winged prophets who might interpret or pronounce omens, Italy also
possessed at least one oracular shrine in which an actual bird, in this case a woodpecker, gave
oracles. The woodpecker, often identified as the Picus martius, 559 was a highly auspicious bird
553 For a distinction between the terms prophecy and divination, see De Grummondb 2006, 27.
554 De Grummond (2006c, 41-2) notes both the evident importance of augury in Etruscan religion and the need for
more research in this area.
555 This mirror serves as yet another example of how the Etruscans adopted and also modified Greek myth.
Chalchas was the seer who assigned Agamemnon the task of sacrificing Iphigenia to the goddess Artemis in order
that the winds might blow and allow the Greek fleet to sail against Troy. (For the prophecy of Chalchas see Hom. Il.
2.308-29, for the death of Iphigenia as a result of his oracles see Aesch. Ag. 156-9, 248-9, 1521-30.) In this
instance, he uses a technique of divination that was prominent in Etruria and the Near East, hepatoscopy, and is also
winged, possibly an indicator of divine nature. De Grummond (2006, 54-5) also notes that this is not how Chalchas
is presented in the Iliad in which he consults the will of the gods by studying the actions of snakes and birds. The
wings may also be an indicator that he is a mediator between the mortal and divine realms as birds may fly among
the clouds as well as walk on the ground. A winged creature belongs to two different spheres.
556 De Grummond 2006a, 31. A further example of a winged divinity is discussed by de Grummond (2006a, 6), who
notes the presence of a “Master of Birds” depicted as a winged male with bird perched on his outstretched wings.
557 De Grummond 2006a, 20; von Vacano 1960, 9-13.
558 Kerényi 1976, 81.
559 Plin. HN. X.40; Mackay (1975, 272) discusses the problem of identifying the exact species of woodpecker
described by the literary sources.
113

for the Romans, and it may be that it held similar meaning for the Etruscans and other Italian
tribes. Jannot and P.G. Goidanich theorize, due to the presences of woodpeckers, that the
famous image of Vel Saties from the François Tomb in Vulci represents the taking of the
auspices in relation to military action. 560 The importance of military conquest in the early
history of Italy, and the association of the woodpecker with the god of war may be the reason
that this bird was important amongst tribes such as the Aequi, Picentines, Umbrians, and
Sabines. 561 Dionysius of Halicarnassus records the presence of a woodpecker oracle of the god
Mars at the site of Tiora Matiene.
Again, from Reate by the road toward the Listine district, is Batia, at a distance of
thirty stades; then Tiora also called Matiene, at a distance of three hundred stades.
They say that there was an exceedingly ancient oracle of Mars in this city, the
character of which was similar to the oracle which legend says was once at
Dodona; except that there, sitting on a sacred oak, a pigeon was said to prophesy,
but among the Aborigines a bird sent from the heavens, which they call picus and
the Greeks dryokolaptês, appearing on a wooden column, did the same. 562
Dionysius’s mention of the woodpecker oracle at Tiora Matiene reminds us of the close
association of the woodpecker and god of war, and we must not forget that the woodpecker,
along with the wolf, cared for the twin sons of Mars, Romulus and Remus after their
abandonment on the banks of the Tiber River.
The woodpecker was also associated with a hero/divinity. The mythological figure Picus
played a role in both the religion and early history of the Romans. This Latin god had originally
been a mortal son of Saturn. However, Picus attracted the attentions of the goddess Circe, 563
and, after spurning her affections, she turned him into a bird. 564
560 Goidanich 1935, 111-5. See also Jannot 2005, 27-8.
561 Jannot (2005, 27-8) notes the importance of the bird to these peoples, but the suggestion of its importance based
on the prospect of military conquest is my own.
562 Dion. Hal. 1.14.5. Greek Text taken from Dionysos of Halicarnassus Roman Antiquities Books I-II, Loeb
Classical Library, Vol. 1, edited by G.P. Goold, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1990, p. 46, 48.
(Translation by Author.)
/ . ) ;w 4 4 & D( 3 C , ' W . x , ) A . 4 ," 7 )
A . ," 7 S & ' y @ '# C = & ? ' @ z ( 4
A ? D # W ) ( &@ ( Q R ( M 1 o " " , ( & K )
9 &3 P C D ) .( - 6 ( & b ' K D C& 7 ) D(
/ B D ( X (7 { ) D 7 $% &&' ( ) &4 ' & 7 C , (
| &, M ( . . * #
563 Circe’s exact relation to Picus is not clear. Moorton (1988, 254) notes that in addition to Ovid’s account in which
Picus is married to Canens, he was also married to Pomona (Servius Ad. Aen. 7.190) or possibly even Circe herself,
a conclusion drawn from Picus’ association with horses at Aen. 7.189. In any case, Circe’s role in the mythical past
114

He fled, but he marveled that he ran faster
Than he was accustomed: he saw wings on his body,
And outraged at the sudden arrival of a new bird
In his Latian woods, he struck the tough oak with his hard beak
And angrily gave wounds to the long branches;
His wings took the color of his reddish cloak;
What had been a gold fibula and had pinned his cloak,
Became feathers, and his neck was ringed with tawny gold,
And not anything of his old self remained for Picus except his name. 565
Picus’ nature, like that of his son Faunus, is confusing in that Picus is at once part of the
genealogy of early Latin kings, a figure transformed into a woodpecker by Circe, and a
woodpecker god. 566
Scholars have generally thought that Picus was of special importance to the Picentes, a
Sabine people who inhabited the region of Picenum. 567 According to our ancient sources, the
Picentes had gained their name after following a woodpecker during the observance of a ver
sacrum. 568 Much has been made of this ancient testimony, and Frazer has used it to create a
theory of ancient Italian totemism. He outlines several key components of totemistic practice in
his commentary on Ovid’s Fasti. These include a people taking the name of their totem animal,
a prohibition against the slaying or injuring of the animal, and lastly the conferral of a past
benefit by the animal to its people. 569 Unfortunately, the very concept of totemism is
problematic, and scholars have not come to a consensus for a single definition of this term as can
be seen in Lévi-Strauss’ assessment of totemic theories. 570 Lévi-Strauss astutely isolates the
most basic concepts of totemism as follows:
of Italy is significant, for according to Hesiod Theog. 1011-3, Circe and Odysseus were the parents of Latinus and
Agrios, who were rulers of the Etruscans.
564
Frazer (1929, 10) proposes that the transformation of Picus was invented as a way for “civilized” Romans to
rationalize the poorly-understood, “primitive” worship of a bird. This theory seems somewhat extreme.
565
Ov. Met. XIV.387-96. Latin Text taken from Ovid Metamorphoses Books IX-XV, Vol. 4, edited by G.P. Goold,
Loeb Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1994, p. 326, 328. (Translation by Author.)
ille fugit, sed se solito velocius ipse / currere miratur: pennas in corpore vidit, / seque novam subito Latiis accedere
silvis / indignatus avem duro fera robora rostro / figit et iratus longis dat vulnera ramis; / purpureum chlamydis
pennae traxere colorem; / fibula quod fuerat vestemque momorderat aurum, / pluma fit, et fulvo cervix praecingitur
auro, / nec quicquam antiquum Pico nisi nomina restat.
566
Rosivach (1980, 142) separates these figures and claims that they have nothing to do with one another. Ovid
notes the divinity of Picus at Fast. 3.291.
567
Goidanich 1935, 118. Thompson (1895, 51-2) notes that a Greek tribe known as the Dryopes were likely
associated with the woodpecker but, even so, the woodpecker was not an important bird of myth in ancient Greece.
568
Strabo 5.4.2, Valerius Flaccus 7.232
569 Frazer 1929, 11.
570 Lévi-Strauss 1962, 10-1.
115

When we speak of totemism we actually confuse two problems. The first
problem is that posed by the frequent identification of human beings with plants
or animals, and which has to do with very general views of the relations between
man and nature, relations which concern art and magic as much as society and
religion. The second problem is that of the designation of groups based on
kinship, which may be done with the aid of animal or vegetable terms but also in
many other ways. The term “totemism” covers only cases in which there is a
coincidence of the two orders. 571
Lévi-Strauss thus indicates that totemism mediates between nature and culture, i.e. he views it
through a structuralist lens. 572 He also suggests that totemism is one way in which man attempts
to define “the organization of the universe” by analyzing nature’s affinity with man. 573 We may
compare scholarly attempts to define and apply totemism to the seeking of a universal
explanation of the significance of myth. In any case, Frazer’s application of his theory of
totemism bears some examination in the case of Picus.
In relation to Picus, Frazer’s categories seem sound given that the ancients certainly
believed that the Picentes had derived their name from the god Picus. Similar instances of an
Italic tribe naming themselves after an animal, such as the Hirpi and Hirpini, do exist. 574 On the
other hand, O. Szemerényi goes to great length to prove that the derivation of the name
“Picentes” from the god Picus is a linguistic impossibility and that the name merely denotes a
group of people who lived in the territory of Picenum. 575 What then should we make of the
ancient testimony? Should we simply dismiss the verbal link as a false folk etymology? I do not
believe that we should sever the link between Picus and the Picentes simply because of linguistic
rules. If the ancients believed that there was a connection between Picus and the Picentines, then
a link had been established.
Frazer’s last two points are clearer. It is not likely that a member of this Italic tribe
would have killed a bird sacred to Mars, whose preeminence in Italy has already been
mentioned, and the tale of the Picentes following a woodpecker, in the practice of a ver sacrum,
to their new home certainly qualifies as the conferral of a past benefit. Thus, as far as Frazer’s
definition is concerned, perhaps we should consider the Picentes as practitioners of totemism.
We may not extend this idea to all of the theriomorphic and therianthropic deities covered in this
571 Lévi-Strauss 1962, 10-1
572 Lévi-Strauss 1962, 16.
573 Lévi-Strauss 1966, 37, 129.
574 See earlier discussion of the Hirpi in Chapter Three, p. 55-6.
575 Szemerényi 1971, 531-44; Salmon 1967, 169.
116

study, for not enough evidence survives to support even these three basic ideas for each god or
goddess. The use of animal iconography in the representation of a deity is not enough to label an
animal a totem for a particular people or tribe; in the context of ancient Italy, the iconographic
choice to represent a deity in full or hybrid animal form does not appear to be based on ethnicity.
This forms the sum total of information concerning the appearance of Picus in worship
and cult; our knowledge of this god is scanty at best. 576 He also does not often appear in mythic
narrative beyond his initial metamorphosis from man to bird. We have already mentioned this
god in connection to an episode in Ovid’s Fasti in which Numa captures Picus and Faunus in an
attempt to learn how to expiate a thunderbolt. 577 In addition to a lack of mythic narrative, visual
representations of this god are also quite rare. 578 One possible representation of Picus takes the
form of a small, black gloss amphora (Fig. VI.3). 579 This vessel in the shape of a bird most
closely resembles the green woodpecker (Picus viridis) due to its small, conical beak and
protruding eyes, but also exhibits some human features. 580 Ears jut from the sides of the bird’s
head, arms reach out from beneath the bird’s wings to wrap around the belly of the vessel, and
legs are bent between the bottom of the wings and the base of the amphora. This piece may be
intended to represent a stage of the metamorphosis of Picus from man into bird. If so, the artist
has chosen a dramatic moment in the adventures of this man turned god.
Picus is not the only theriomorphic or therianthropic bird divinity found in Etruscan and
Roman myth, but he is the only one we can identify with any degree of certainty. Furthermore,
bird-man hybrids are so poorly understood that it is not always clear from which species of bird
the hybrids are formed. Three other examples of bird-man hybrids appear in Etruscan and
Roman art, and the context in which these figures are found varies. Another problem that
plagues our understanding of the following bird-men is that surviving examples of these hybrids
are quite limited and thus there is little material on which to base conclusions.
576
Rosivach 1980, 145. Halliday (1922, 111) also notes that Picus belongs more to the realm of myth and folklore
than cult.
577
Ov. Fast. 3.291-326.
578
There is no LIMC entry for the god Picus.
579
Capanna (2000,225) this piece, acquired by the Metropolitan Museum of Art from a private collection in
Lugnano, may be meant to represent the climax in the story of Picus, the moment of his transformation from man to
woodpecker. Given the unknown provenance of this piece, and its presence in a private collection, it is difficult to
determine whether it is of Roman or Etruscan make. The Etruscans seem to have been interested in Circe’s
handiwork, and scenes depicting the transformation of Odysseus’ men into animals appear on Etruscan cinerary urns
as well as other objects. If we are able to identify this figure as the transformed Roman king Picus, then this is the
only visual representation of the narrative of Picus of which I am aware.
580
Capanna 2000, 225.
117

One curious example of an avian therianthrope is the figure identified as a winged youth
with what appears to be a rooster’s head, represented on an antefix that would have decorated the
roof of a series of small rooms that may have housed sacred prostitutes, hierodoulai, near
Temple B at Pyrgi (Fig. VI.4). 581 It is difficult to determine the exact identity of this figure, or
even if it should be classified as deity or demon. The most common interpretation of this figure
is that it is a representation of Phosphorus or Lucifer, the morning star, who is here represented
as a man with a rooster’s head crowing to announce the rising sun. 582 A different interpretation
is offered by M. Verzár who identifies this figure as a dancer wearing a bird mask instead of
having the head of a rooster. She indicates that human hair runs down his chest from his head
and ears poke through the sides of the mask and further proposes that the masked dancer is a
participant in the ancient ritual of the crane dance, the geranos, a practice that finds its origins in
Minoan Crete and the worship of a mother goddess assimilated to a Cypriote form of
Aphrodite. 583 The other figures represented on the antefixes (Fig. VI.5) which decorated the
rooms near Temple B also seem to be moving in a dance, or are associated with the celestial
sphere, lending plausibility to Verzár’s interpretation.
Of course, the major difference between these two interpretations is the species of bird
combined with human form to create the bird-headed figure. To identify the bird component of
this figure’s iconography as that of a crane, Verzár states that its beak could not belong to a
rooster, for it is too long and is better suited to the crane. 584 On the other hand, the bird hybrid
seems to possess a crest and wattle, which make this figure resemble a rooster. One must
wonder to what degree the artist responsible for this antefix strived for naturalism, but this is a
question that must remain unanswered. Thus, it will remain difficult to determine the exact
identity of the bird-man by using such criteria. While it is not possible to rule out either O. von
Vacano’s or Verzár’s interpretations, a third possibility exists.
581 Colonna 1970, 311-32, 402-4; Haynes 2000, 177; Serra Ridgway 1990, 523-4; Von Vacano 1980, 463-75.
582 Most scholars follow the interpretation offered by von Vacano (1980, 465-7). See Haynes 2000, 178; Serra
Ridgway 1990, 523 for scholars in agreement with von Vacano. Two competing identifications of this figure
follow.
583 While noting the erotic aspect of the geranos, Verzár (1980, 39) clearly lays out the connection between the
dance of Ariadne and the Cypriote Aphrodite. It is possible that rooster-headed figure would not be out of context
here since, as Mayo (1967, 6) points out, the cock is the “conventional symbol of erotic intentions,” typically for
same sex relations. Erotic connotations are also appropriate due to the possible presence of sacred prostitutes in this
sanctuary.
584 Verzár 1980, 42.
118

I. Krauskopf interprets this figure as a demon of the morning dew, and points to the Near
East as a possible source of the iconography of the antefix. 585 Given that the sanctuary at Pyrgi
has strong connections to the east and provides “the most conclusive evidence for a direct
Phoenician influence in Central Italy,” a Near Eastern parallel seems likely. 586 This is due to the
aforementioned dedication of Temple B to the goddess Uni, here syncretized with Astarte. 587 I
have already noted that several other theriomorphic and therianthropic deities find parallels in
Eastern art, and this bird demon appears to be yet another. An Assyrian “griffin demon” from
Kalhu (Fig. VI.6) resembles the bird-man from Pyrgi in several ways. 588 Both have a tie to
liquids; the “griffin demon” holds a small bucket while the Pyrgi hybrid is shown amongst what
may be stylized rain or dew drops. Both possess long archaic or archaizing locks of hair, and
each has a crest and an open beak revealing the creatures’ tongues. These similarities are
magnified by the fact that the antefix identified by Krauskopf as Usils the sun god (Fig. VI.5,
Antefix A) corresponds to another Near Eastern iconographic type used to represent the sun god
Shamash. 589 The only difficulty, which may not invalidate this connection, is that the Assyrian
figure has the head of a bird of prey as opposed to that of a crane or domesticated animal such as
a rooster. As mentioned earlier, it is difficult to determine the degree of naturalism intended by
the artist who crafted this antefix, but given the connection between Uni and Astarte, Near
Eastern influence may be present in both this shrine’s decoration and the syncretization of the
mother goddesses.
Another species of bird used to create a therianthropic figure is the swan. This type
seems rare, but there are examples of the so-called “Swan Hero” 590 or “Swan Demon” 591 from
both the Archaic and Hellenistic periods. This figure takes the form of a youth, often winged,
who wears a cap that transitions into the neck and head of a swan. This figure is found in both a
585
Krauskopf 1997, 31.
586
Andersen 1992-3, 87
587
Serra Ridgway (1990, 521) states that the temple was dedicated to the eastern goddess Astarte, “who is only
secondarily assimilated to the local queen-goddess Uni.”
588
This type of figure seems to find its roots in the Old Babylonian period with similar images in Mitannian art. The
familiar form of this “demon” (a winged, human figure with the head of a bird of prey holding a bucket and pine
cone) first appears on Middle Assyrian seals and was quite popular in Neo-Assyrian art, in particular in the 9 th C
BCE. Griffin demons are rare after the 7 th C BCE but do continue to appear on Seleucid Period seals. Black and
Green (1997, 101) note that this type of figure has been explained as a representation of the Seven Sages, and
figurines were deposited in groups of seven in foundations of houses and palaces to protect the building.
589
Krauskopf 1997, 29.
590
Richardson (1983, 362-3).
591
Herbig 1965, 49. In keeping with my rationale outlined in Chapter One, I shall use the designation of “Swan
Demon” for this figure from this point on.
119

votive 592 (Fig. VI.7) and decorative context (Fig. VI.8). The identity of the “Swan Demon”
remains uncertain, but several possibilities have been suggested. F. Gerke proposes that the
“Swan Demon” is meant to be Apollo 593 but does so without offering any supporting evidence.
One might assume that the youth of this “demon” and the connection to the swan, sometimes
associated with Apollo, 594 forms the basis of this identification. 595 Other suggestions for
identifying the “Swan Demon” include Cupid/Eros, a rain-bringing wind god, 596 a Lar, 597
Cygnus, 598 or Ganymede. 599 These possibilities possess varying degrees of merit.
The swan was not only sacred to the god Apollo and but also associated with the Roman
goddess of love and sexuality Venus (Etruscan Turan), and her son Amor or Cupid (Etruscan
Turnu). 600 As is demonstrated in the LIMC entry for “Amor, Cupido” surviving images of Cupid
and Amor are quite varied, and there do not seem to be standard attributes for these figures. 601
Amores are associated with a plethora of animals including the dolphin, swan, dove, and many
more. Amores may carry any number of different implements and objects, including objects
such as the pitcher and patera held by the Swan Demon in Fig. VI.8. Thus, while there is
nothing that indicates an erotic context for this figure, this does not rule out the possibility that it
is a representation of an Amor. However, there appear to be no examples in which Amor wears
an animal-skin cap of any kind. The “Swan Demon” may not be Amor but still belong to the
592
Richardson (1983, 362-3) indicates that this bronze votive statuette is the only known representation of the
“Swan Demon” from the archaic period; the “Swan Demon” was apparently more popular in the Hellenistic period
during which it typically appears in a decorative context.
593
Gerke 1938, 231.
594
Ahl 1982, 374-85; Thompson 1895, 105.
595
Krappe (1942, 70) comes to the conclusion that the swan is critical to the identity of Apollo in the following
statement, “… let us say that to the “Mouse Apollon” and to the Anatolian sun-god [whom he associates with
Apollo Soranus] must now be added a third component of the classical Apollon, fully as important as the other two:
the ‘Swan Apollon,” the god of the whooper swan…” As part of his argument, Krappe (1942, 362) suggests that
Cygnus may be a heroic form of the god Apollo. He is not, however, entirely convinced of this possibility. Given
the rarity of the iconographic type of the “Swan Demon” and that it is an Italian creation, it is not clear that the
Etruscans would have conceived of Apollo in this way.
596
Bailey and Craddock 1978, 78.
597
Messerschmidt 1942, 14. Palmer (1974, 116) also records the possibility of the Lares being winged but does not
mention an association with the swan.
598
Richardson (1983, 362) states, “The hero with the swan’s crest seems to be purely Etruscan; he has no connection
with Cygnus.” I am not convinced that we must rule out Cygnus as a possibility, and perhaps what we instead have
is an Etruscan adaptation of a Greek mythological figure.
599
Bailey and Craddock 1978, 78.
600
For the association of the swan with Turan see De Grummond (2006a, 85), with Venus see Ahl 1982, 374 n.1.
For the identification of Turnu as the son of Turan see De Grummond 2006a, 94.
601
Blanc and Gury 1986, 952-1049.
120

“Circle of Turan” 602 as a spirit somehow associated with the goddess of love. If we possessed
more examples of the “Swan Demon” or an image besides a bronze statuette in Florence (Fig.
VI.9) 603 in which he appeared with other mythological figures, we might be able to place his
actions (offering a pine cone or pouring a pitcher) with the great many “spirits of love and
adornment” who appear to anoint someone with perfume or to aid in a bride’s preparation for
marriage. 604 A male figure would not be out of place amongst these spirits considering the
confusion of genders present in Etruscan iconography and the appearance of satyrs and figures
such as the one named male Lasa, Lasa Sitmica. 605
R. Herbig and Simon’s suggestion that this figure is a wind god is not satisfying. 606 Wind
gods such as the Boreadai 607 are often shown rushing to and fro or abducting the object of their
affections, and neither of these characterizations are appropriate to the known representations of
the “Swan Demon.” In addition to differences in action, neither Boreas nor his sons the Boreadai
are shown in conjunction with swans. Even if he is not a wind, the “Swan Demon” might be a
representative of a meteorological phenomenon such as the season winter, or perhaps an astral
association with the constellation Cygnus exists. In an article dealing with the identification of
the figures on the Ara Pacis, de Grummond identifies the two female figures that accompany Pax
as the Horae, or Seasons. One of these is seated on a swan, an animal associated with the season
of winter. While the “Swan Demon” is male and the Hora is female, the association of the swan
with winter and the constellation Cygnus may still hold. The youths in Fig. VI.8 and VI.9 both
hold pitchers, which are associated with the constellation Aquarius, also connected to winter. 608
Could this figure be a Lar? The surviving artistic evidence of the Lares, which has been
briefly addressed in Chapters Two and Three does not preserve any certain association with the
swan. 609 Literary evidence also does not reflect any link between the Lares and this bird and
instead suggests that the Lares may be represented wearing the skins of dogs. 610 The Lares are
also generally depicted as one or more dancing, youthful figures wearing chitons and holding
602 De Grummond 2006a, 151.
603 I shall return to Fig. VI.9 as a possible clue to identifying the “Swan Demon” below.
604 De Grummond (2006a, 155-68) discusses a number of the minor spirits who appear on numerous mirrors of the
fourth C BCE and seem to be personifications of abstract ideas.
605 De Grummond 2006a, 166; Lambrechts 1992, 217.
606 Herbig and Simon 1965, 31, 49.
607 For Boreas see Kaempf-Dimitriadou 1986, 133-42; for the Boreadai see Schefold 1986, 126-33.
608 De Grummond 1990, 669.
609 Tinh (1992, 208-9) does not include any examples of the “Swan Demon” in his LIMC article on the Lares.
610 Plut. Quaes. Rom. 51; Waites 1920, 250-1.
121

hyta. 611 On the other hand, the swan could be linked to the underworld and dying mortals due to
its funeral song, 612 and the swan cap and wings may perhaps be meant to denote its connection to
the underworld and its transitional nature. In this case, perhaps we should read the object held
by the youth in Fig. VI.7 as a pine cone, a symbol of fertility often used as a grave stele. The
pouring out of the pitcher and the presence of a patera could then be interpreted as an offering
made for the deceased.
The last two possibilities, Cygnus and Ganymede, may be the most likely identifications
of the “Swan Demon.” As Picus was transformed into a woodpecker, Cygnus was a mortal who
was transformed into a swan, and the cap worn by this figure may be a shorthand way of
representing this metamorphosis. For reasons which she does not state, Richardson proposes that
this figure has nothing to do with the Cygnus myth, 613 but this denial necessitates examination.
A.L. Brown notes the presence of ten or more characters named Cygnus in the repertoire of
classical myth, 614 but the tale of a man taking on the form of a swan appears in Vergil’s
Aeneid 615 and Ovid’s Metamorphoses. Ovid records the story of the Ligurian Cygnus, cousin of
Phaethon, in Metamorphoses Book II.
Stheneleian Cygnus was present at this portentous event,
who, although related by the blood of your mother,
was nevertheless more like Phaethon in mind. Having
left behind his empire (for he ruled the Ligurians and their great cities),
he filled the green banks and the water of the Eridanus
and the wood augmented by his sisters with mourning.
When his voice grew thin, and feathers
hid his white hair, and his neck was extended by a long breast
and a web joined his rosy fingers,
feathers covered his side, and his mouth held a dull beak.
Cygnus had become a new bird… 616
611
Brown 1971, 334.
612
Arnott 1977, 149-53.
613
Richardson 1983, 362.
614
Brown 1996, 417-8. Ahl (1982, 387) identifies seven distinct mythical figures named Cygnus.
615
Verg. Aen. X.189-92.
616
Ov. Met. II.367-77. Latin Text taken from Ovid Metamorphoses Books I-VIII, Vol. 3, edited by G.P. Goold, Loeb
Classical Library, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1999, p. 84, 86. (Translation by Author.)
Adfuit huic monstro proles Stheneleia Cygnus, / qui tibi materno quamvis a sanguine iunctus, / mente tamen,
Phaethon, propior fuit. Ille relicto / (nam Ligurum populos et magnas rexerat urbes) / imperio ripas virides
amnemque querellis / Eridanum implerat silvamque sororibus auctam, / cum vox est tenuata viro, canaeque capillos
/ dissimulant plumae, collumque a pectore longe / porrigitur, digitosque ligat iunctura rubentes, / penna latus velat,
tenet os sine acumine rostrum. / Fit nova Cygnus avis…
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This Cygnus becomes a swan after Phaethon’s hubristic death, an event that may indicate the
solar nature of the swan. 617 This study contains several examples in which therianthropic deities
may be represented by various degrees of hybridism; they may be represented as a true blend of
human anatomy or as a man wearing an animal skin. Thus, the “Swan Demon” might be one
way of conceiving of Cygnus and his dual nature. There are no narrative elements to which the
lone votive or decorative statuettes may be linked and thus this interpretation must remain a
hypothetical possibility.
The last possibility proposed by previous scholars for the identification of this figure is
Ganymede, and the small statue group (Fig. VI.9) featuring the “Swan Demon” may support this
identification. 618 In this group the “Swan Demon,” holding aloft a pitcher with his right hand,
alights on the shoulders of a male wearing an animal skin (ram or goat?). The pitcher is poised
to pour its liquid into the mouth of the animal skin-wearing male. In this particular instance, the
“Swan Demon” is portrayed as being quite young, and the swan’s head seems to have a life of its
own as it turns to look down at the figure below. The “Swan Demon’s” wing span is also quite
large and spreads dramatically from his back. It is difficult to say whether or not the pouring of
the pitcher is significant for the identification of the “Swan Demon,” but the ram or goat skin
worn by the male, on whose shoulders the demon alights, may indicate that both of these figures
are divinities of some kind. Nudity of the kind displayed in this piece is typically reserved for
divine beings. That fact that the “Swan Demon” is shown in the act of “refreshing” 619 what may
be another divinity lends some credence to the possibility that this could be Ganymede, the cup-
bearer of Zeus. The curving neck of the swan and the base of the cap are even slightly
reminiscent of a Phrygian cap, which would be appropriate garb for a Trojan prince.
The first objection to interpreting the “Swan Demon” as Ganymede is that in most
representations of Ganymede’s abduction, he is seized by an eagle. However, in vase painting
(Fig. VI.10) 620 and in fragmentary passages of Greek comedy, 621 there is evidence of a tradition
of a swan replacing the more common eagle of Zeus. 622 Fig. VI.10 is a line drawing of the tondo
617 Ahl 1982, 389-94.
618 Haynes (1985, 322) suggests that it likely sat atop a lamp as did Fig VI.8.
619 Haynes 1985, 322.
620 Krauskopf 1980, 243-8. Trendrall and Cambitoglou (1978-1982, I, 422-3; II, 795-6) note several examples of a
swan chasing the Trojan Prince.
621 Krauskopf 1980, 246.
622 Mayo (1967, 19, no. 36) refers to the substitution of a swan for the eagle of Zeus as “executed by apparently
confused artists.” This mythical variation is certainly no more shocking than the substitution of Hercle for These in
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of a lost Apulian drinking cup formerly in the Fenicia collection in Ruvo. This scene has been
linked to the rape of the young Trojan prince. That the scene in this tondo represents Ganymede
is confirmed by at least two other images of Ganymede being chased and/or abducted by a swan
on Apulian vases as well as a lost fragment which was decorated with the head of a swan,
surrounded by a nimbus and an inscription reading J r } y ~ o ~ q # A.J. Trendall also notes
that several images of Ganymede, before he is kidnapped by Zeus, include a swan, and states that
there must have been a local variant of this myth in which a swan replaced the eagle of Zeus. 623
Even so, S. Reinach identifies the bird in Fig VI.10 as an eagle even though it has quite a long
neck. 624
Given that Zeus was smitten by the young Trojan prince’s beauty, the substitution of
Aphrodite’s bird for the lordly eagle seems appropriate. A second, and more important objection
to the identification of the “Swan Demon” as Ganymede may be that Ganymede is abducted by a
swan; he does not metamorphose into a swan. 625 On the other hand, association with a swan may
not be out of the question due to Ganymede’s transcendence of mortality. 626 As mentioned
earlier, the swan can have funereal connotations because it sings a dirge. In his own way,
Ganymede, too, is a liminal figure who has actually conquered death by obtaining immortality as
Zeus’ cup-bearer. Ganymede will remain forever young and has transcended the boundaries of
life and death. Unfortunately, this interpretation must remain in the realm of speculation until
further evidence for the assimilation of kidnapper and victim can be provided.
Birds were associated not only with the heavens. Two Etruscan mythological figures link
the bird to the infernal realm. The first of these is an unidentified bird demon on a fragment of
Fig V.1, and we must remember not to say that an ancient artist, or in this case, a group of ancient artists, made a
mistake simply because we do not have a complete literary account. Sichtermann (1959) collects several examples
of Ganymede’s abduction by the swan in his text. Schauenburg (1969, Pl. 21,1.) illustrates one such Apulian volute
krater from a private collection in Berlin.
623
Trendall 1987, 144-5.
624
Reinach 1899, 335.
625
While no mythological traditions indicate that Ganymede could metamorphose into a swan, the same cannot be
said for Zeus, who took the form of a swan in order to court the Spartan queen Leda. Perhaps, the presence of a
swan in the myth of Ganymede is a conflation of myths concerning two of Zeus’ love interests.
626
Mayo (1967, 56) sums up the uses of the Ganymede myth in Classical art and literature as follows, “With far
more of an open mind than those of the succeeding centuries, the Greek or Roman viewed the Trojan youth as either
a symbol of sexual passion, a social phenomenon, a prototype of physical perfection, or the insurance of the soul’s
immortality.” Mayo demonstrates the validity of this last meaning with many examples throughout her discussion
of Ganymede in Greek and Roman myth and art.
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an Etruscan black figure vase from the Orvieto Group (Fig. VI.11). 627 Krauskopf suggests that
this figure is an underworld demon, and its manner is certainly appropriate for a fierce denizen of
the lower world. This figure possesses the head of a bird of prey, which is clear because it has a
hooked beak and reaches out to attack or harry another figure on the sherd. Not enough of this
vessel remains to reconstruct the narrative scene of which this demon is a part, although one
might envision the punishment of Prometheus or Tityos as a likely candidates for violence
committed by an avian antagonist. 628
Etruscan tomb painting contains a second example of a chthonic, therianthropic bird
demon. The Tomb of Orcus II preserves the only labeled example of the demon, Tuchulcha, 629
and here depicted with wings, ass’ ears, a beak instead of a mouth, and two snakes rising from its
head as it brandishes a third snake to menace the hero Theseus (Fig. VI.12). 630 Tuchulcha’s
wings bear the same markings as the viper it 631 holds, and there can be no doubt that demon and
serpent are inextricably linked; 632 nevertheless, due to the presence of a beak and wings, I have
included Tuchulcha in this chapter on avians. Like the bird demon on the black figure sherd
(Fig. VI.11), Tuchulcha is depicted in an offensive stance. In this case, his victim is clearly
627 Not enough of this vessel is preserved to say much that is conclusive about the bird-headed figure which seems to
be attacking a man. The hooked beak of this figure has led Krauskopf to identify it as an underworld demon, and
this is indeed plausible. This “demon” may be a precursor to the slightly more anthropoid Tuchulcha (Fig. VI.12).
A bird of prey is suitable as an underworld figure, as any predator possesses much the same characteristics related to
scavenging, killing, and the consumption of other animals’ flesh. This figure also is important because it presents
the possibility of a bird being more than celestial, i.e. birds can be chthonic too.
628 If the bird demon attacks a figure such as Prometheus, the narrative of which he is part would not take place in
the underworld. I would nevertheless argue for the chthonic character of this hybrid as most figures who serve to
punish the wicked are infernal in nature, e.g., the Erinyes or Furies.
629 A winged figure with two snakes sprouting from his hair that appears on an Etruscan Red Figure skyphos housed
in Boston has been identified as the demon Tuchulcha by Jannot (1997, 143). Two other figures appear on this vase
with the demon and have been identified as Admetus and Alcestis. The presence of an Etruscan death demon with
this couple is fitting for either the parting of Alcestis or the reunion of the couple; however, the demon depicted on
this skyphos neither bears a label nor possesses a bird’s beak in place of a nose. Thus it is difficult to accept this
figure as Tuchulcha as it may be a representation of Charu(n), who could fulfill much the same function as his more
monstrous counterpart.
630 The fact that this is the only example of a demon labeled Tuchulcha leads to several problems. The first regards
the gender of this figure. De Grummond (2006a, 218 ) expresses doubt as to the gender of Tuchulcha but refers to
him as a he for simplicity’s sake. The color of the skin and the costume of the figure are the basis for this problem.
De Ruyt (1934, 11) determines that due to a total lack of humanity, speculation in relation to Tuchulcha’s gender is
ultimately moot. I shall refer to Tuchulcha as “it” to indicate its distinctly inhuman character. Jannot (1997, 144)
addresses a second problem, the identity of this demon as separate from Charu(n). He suggests that Tuchulcha may
be equivalent to an epithet similar to those found in the Tomba dei Caronti. I disagree with this conclusion as the
features of Charu(n) and Tuchulcha are distinct enough to merit separate identities.
631 De Grummond (2006, 217) indicates that the gender we should ascribe to this demon is not clear due to its skin
tone, garments, and possible representation of breasts. Tuchulcha is commonly referred to as “he” in scholarly
literature, but I choose to refer to this demon as an “it” due to its otherworldly nature.
632 Hostetler 2003, 52.
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labeled, These, the Etruscan Theseus. A third figure in this scene sits across from These, and it
is likely that this is meant to be Pirithous, the companion who urged Theseus to aid in the capture
of Persephone so that Pirithous might wed her. Pirithous and Theseus were unsuccessful in their
attempt and were forced to remain in the underworld until Herakles rescued Theseus. Pirithous
remained behind. 633 Thus, in this painting, the Etruscan artist seems to have elaborated on the
Greek myth, and, in a typical Etruscan fashion, has inserted a death demon into the scene. Here,
Tuchulcha seems more menacing than Charu(n), who may act as a guide, or Vanth, who
sometimes offers shelter to deceased souls. Tuchulcha may embody the punishment of these
mortals who have hubristically over-stepped their bounds much in the same way as a Fury.
All along, we have seen that theriomorphic and therianthropic deities and demons are
difficult for us to identify. The avian examples are no exception and, in fact, may even be more
difficult to identify due to the relative silence of literary sources and lack of recognizable
iconographic conventions. These figures would surely have been recognized by their ancient
audiences. The Swan Demon exemplifies this point, as modern scholars are bedeviled in their
attempts to assign a name to a figure that does not perfectly fit any one possibility. Yet, the
presence of this figure in the Archaic and Hellenistic examples indicates that none of the
statuettes are unique occurrences of this iconography which held meaning only to the objects’
owners. This fact alone makes a case for the necessity of more study of theriomorphs and
therianthropes. Perhaps with the discovery of new texts and objects, we shall be able to solve the
puzzle of their identity.
633 Plut. Vit. Thes. 35.1-2.
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CHAPTER 7: CONCLUSIONS
In Beast and Man: The Roots of Human Nature, Midgley explores the concept of human
nature and in doing so addresses the idea that animal species are used as foils to help us further
understand ourselves. 634 She draws examples from many time periods, including an excerpt
from Plato’s Republic. 635 She proves the notion that animals are indeed “good to think,” 636 and
that oftentimes we use an imaginary benchmark of animal behavior instead of actual observed
behavior. 637 No doubt this is one of the reasons for the appearance of therianthropic deities.
Man associates certain aspects of human behavior with animals, who are in turn associated with
particular deities or types of deities. We can see such a trend in the literary and archaeological
evidence gathered in this study.
The first and most important conclusion we may draw from both the archaeological and
literary evidence gathered here is that we should not assume that the Greeks, Romans, and
Etruscans were completely adverse to animal worship. The literary sources that have been used
to support this notion are not as clearly against animal worship as they have been taken to be, nor
should we assume that these sources represent a majority opinion or an opinion that can be
applied to any time period other than that of the author. The proliferation of theriomorphic and
therianthropic imagery in the art and texts of ancient Italy indicates that the Etruscans and
Romans were willing to accept the appearance of certain gods or supernatural figures (demons)
in animal and/or hybrid form. A god of healing, such as Aesculapius, could appear in the form
of a snake, and the lararium, the very center of Roman domestic religion, was commonly
decorated with serpents that received offerings from a home’s inhabitants. Monumental
buildings, such as Roman and Etruscan temples, meant to demonstrate the power and wealth of
the dedicator, were often decorated with images of Juno Sospita and Achelous. Juno Sospita’s
634
Midgley 1995, 15.
635
Midgley (1995, 37) draws from the Republic Book IX as a way to demonstrate man’s tendency to demonize wild
beasts who act without morality.
636
Lévi-Strauss 1969, 89.
637
Midgley 1995, 27. One of the only ancient examples of an attempt to scientifically describe animal behavior and
personalities is Pliny the Elder’s Natural History, particularly books VIII-X. Pliny’s descriptions of animal behavior
are not all based on first, or even second hand, observation, and instead consist of a collection of stories from other
witnesses and folk-tales which Pliny has gathered together. Thus Pliny conforms to Midgley’s assessment of human
opinions of animals.
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image was also used as an indicator of the birth place of the emperor Antoninus Pius. In addition
to these other examples, the funerary art of the Etruscans regularly features theriomorphic or
therianthropic gods. We must take a different approach to categorizing theriomorphic and
therianthropic divinities. Major deities, who could be conceived of in animal form, did receive
cult. Animal imagery, similar to that used by the Egyptians, could be used to represent Etruscan
and Roman gods. The vocal minority of literary sources presented in Chapter One, which may
or may not argue clearly for an anti-animal worship sentiment, cannot drown out the silent
majority and the archaeological evidence.
A second important point that we may draw from the data collected in this study is that
we can not categorize these deities strictly as survivals of archaic religion. The use of
theriomorphic and therianthropic imagery may be quite ancient, and it is true that certain deities,
such as Pan, can be traced back to early time periods and places such as Arcadia, the storehouse
of archaic cults. On the other hand, figures such as Charu(n) do not appear in Etruscan art until
the classical period, and Aesculapius, who is brought to Rome relatively late, continues to appear
in theriomorphic form well into the second century CE. Instead of considering the creation of
human-animal hybrids a throwback to earlier ideas, we should view it as an iconographic system,
that is not specific to a particular time period, used for specific reasons. Some symbols, such as
the serpent as a symbol of the earth, may have remained the same, but the serpent could be
imbued with new meaning, such as in its new association with Charu. Faunus also demonstrates
the possibility of multiple or changing animal associations and embodiments. His association
with both the wolf and the goat demonstrates the fluid nature of polytheistic religion in the
ancient world.
Investing already existing symbols with new meaning can also be seen in the Etruscan
and Roman adoption of foreign gods along with their myths, cult, and imagery. In some cases
gods such as Aesculapius (and potentially Dionysos) are adopted with little changes to their
myths and cults, but in others changes can be drastic. The appropriation of Pan’s caprid imagery
for the native Italian god Faunus shows a shift in the way this god was conceived. The Etruscans
and Romans also borrow traditional tales such as that of Theseus and the Minotaur but change
them to suit their own taste. These two examples of change in imagery and mythology are a
reminder that the neat classifications and descriptions of gods found in mythology textbooks are
constructs of modern scholars. Etruscan and Roman deities and demons could not only be
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syncretized with deities in their own pantheon but also those worshipped by other peoples. For
example, it is often difficult to distinguish the character and features of Faunus, Silvanus, Inuus,
and Pan, who are all woodland deities of the Greco-Roman world, and at the Etruscan sanctuary
of Pyrgi, one witnesses the syncretization of the Etruscan goddess Uni and the Phoenician
Astarte. Pagan gods could possess a wide variety of attributes and their spheres of influence
could change and grow with their introduction to a new culture.
Hybrid imagery is particularly suited to chthonic deities or chthonic aspects of otherwise
celestial divinities. Aesculapius is a heroized healer who both transcends the boundary between
life and death 638 and works through and becomes his sacred animal, the serpent. Juno Sospita is
an excellent example of a celestial goddess who is given a chthonic nature. Aita, the ruler of the
underworld, and Calu, the Etruscan god of death, are represented with a wolf cap or as wolf.
Juno, often thought of as the queen of heaven and a sky or moon goddess, takes on the aspect of
the goat and becomes a warrior/protector of the state who remains tied to the earth through her
connection to a serpent oracle. Artistic representations of Dionysos as a bull god may not be
entirely secure, yet this god’s connection to the earth as both a fertility god and a god of
vegetation are clear. Numerous literary sources present him in taurine fashion. Even though
little is known of him, Picus is always spoken of as a sylvan god of the earth, even though he is a
woodpecker and capable of flight. Each of these deities mentioned here is in some way linked to
the earth or the underworld, thus underscoring the chthonic nature of theriomorphic and
therianthropic deities.
These deities who are represented as a hybrid of man and animal shape or fully take on
animal shape are often associated with oracles and prophecy. I have already mentioned the
serpent oracle linked to Juno Sospita, and she is far from alone in having oracular powers or an
oracular site. Aesculapius and Faunus were both associated with the practice of incubation and
appeared to their worshippers in dreams. Faunus, or Silvanus, was also known for speaking out
from the woods and pronouncing oracles, and Picus, or in the guise of a woodpecker, could be
the mouthpiece of the god Mars but also possessed his own powers of prophecy. The link
between birds and the gods as demonstrated in the practice of augury as well as in the imagery of
prophets such as Chalchas also indicates the prophetic nature of these gods.
638 As noted on p. 38, Aesculapius’ iconography indicated that he is the “other” in relation to both man, because of
his ability to heal and his divine parentage, and also to the gods, because of his mortal mother, death, and even his
clothing.
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The imagery used to represent hybrid deities is indicative of gods who cross boundaries
and blur categories. While addressing the topic of liminality, V. and E. Turner remark that
“incongruous forms may be created” as one way of denoting the liminal nature of initiatory
rituals. 639 “These might include ‘monsters,’ compounded of elements from human or animal
forms; for example, animal-headed gods, or human-headed animals.” 640 Such devices serve as
the impetus for initiates to think about “persons, objects, relationships, social roles, and features
of their environment hitherto taken for granted.” 641 Animals and animal imagery thus function
as metaphors and are used to explain human experience. 642
Many of these gods are associated with the transition between life and death. 643
Narratives associated with Aesculapius’ and Dionysos’ birth, the transition between night and
day possibly associated with the bird-man from Pyrgi, Faunus’ embodiment of the protector and
ravager of the flock, lines between sanity and madness associated with Pan and Dionysos, and
the transition between mortality and immortality represented by figures such as Picus and
Ganymede are represented by the blending of human and animal form. One god that marks an
actual boundary is Achelous, who is a personification of a geographical feature. Thus,
boundaries are not only broken but can also be reinforced by these gods. The use of heads of
Juno Sospita and Achelous as antefixes to simultaneously decorate temples and ward away evil
denotes the use of these liminal figures to reinforce the barrier between the sacred and the
profane. In this way, these gods may conform to structural theories in that the gods mediate
between two poles.
In addition to these other aspects of liminality, theriomorphic and therianthropic gods are
appropriate to ward away evil because of the fear they inspire. It is interesting to note how many
therianthropic deities are represented as a human with an animal head or as a human wearing a
cap or mask. The head may be the most fearsome part of the body, be it animal or human form.
Mundkur suggests that the fear of human-animal hybrids is the result of “primitive” belief. 644 I
639
V. and E. Turner 1982, 205.
640
V. and E. Turner 1982, 205.
641
V. and E. Turner 1982, 205.
642
Morris (1998, 169) demonstrates a similar trend in the use of animals as cultural metaphors amongst the Malawi
people of Africa.
643
A parallel between Greco-Roman culture and the Malawi people in the use of animal imagery deals with the
wearing of animal skins. Morris (1998, 176) points to a motif of detachable animal skins which is comparable to the
use of masks. In the context of Italian therianthropic and theriomorphic deities, we find the use of both devices
(skins and masks) in the representations and cult practices of these gods.
644
Mundkur 1988, 153.
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would again suggest that we not think of these figures as only representing a “primitive
substratum” of ancient religion due to the continued usage and invention of theriomorphic and
therianthropic images. It is difficult to determine how much the Etruscans and Romans actually
believed in the gods described in their myths and represented in their art, but it is likely that
many people believed that these divinities were active in their life and the world around them.
Last of all, I hope I have demonstrated that theriomorphic and therianthropic deities and
demons require further attention in future scholarship, and that this dissertation might serve as a
starting point for future research. There remain a number of issues which I believe would prove
fruitful for the study of the figures I have dealt with in this dissertation as well as human-animal
hybrids in general. Recently, the scholarly community has become interested in theories of
shamanism and how these might be applied to the ancient world. For example, a recent exhibit
at the Kelsey Museum in Ann Arbor, Michigan, focused on the role of the shaman in ancient Iran
and Iraq. 645 It may prove profitable to apply some of these new theories to the archaeological
and literary evidence of Greece, Rome, and Etruria. As of yet, there is still much work that
needs to be done, however, in identifying the gods and goddesses represented by human-animal
hybrids. I believe this is a necessary step that must precede an application of shamanistic theory.
The debates as to the identity of figures such as the anguiped demon in the Tomb of Reliefs, the
man-bull in the Tomb of the Bulls, or the “Swan Demon” and bird-man of Pyrgi remain
unsettled. Figures such as the “Swan Demon” may remain unidentified until new artistic or
literary evidence comes to light or further testimony from the ancients points scholars in the
proper direction.
In this dissertation, I took a broad look at theriomorphic and therianthropic deities over a
vast geographic area as well as a large chronological span. It may prove fruitful to isolate one
particular region or time period to determine if there is any variation in the way that
theriomorphic and therianthropic deities are used or represented by the Etruscans or Romans.
The individuality of the Etruscan and Latin city-states (as evidenced by variation in burial
practice, writing, and other cultural features) makes this an attractive proposal. Of course, this
would not be possible for each of the deities or demons presented here, but figures such as Juno
Sospita and Achelous may be promising subjects of such a study due to the wealth of evidence
for these figures. One might be able to isolate particular ways of fashioning the iconography of a
645 Root 2005.
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god or goddess or the popularity of a particular narrative or scene by undertaking such an
approach.
A further possibility for the study of theriomorphic and therianthropic deities would be to
examine the extent to which Egyptian deities appear in hybrid forms in Rome. As mentioned
earlier in this dissertation, the Romans were familiar with the Egyptian pantheon, and, despite
literary sources which have been taken to indicate disapproval, there is evidence for the
appropriation of some Egyptian divinities. A study of the Egyptian material would serve to
compliment the study of the native Italian evidence.
Ultimately, the use of animal-hybrid imagery functioned as a way for the ancients to
express their religious concerns. Just as with any other deity, a therianthropic or theriomorphic
god, goddess, or demon could protect mortals from malevolent forces, ease their transition to or
embody their concern with the afterlife, offer a cure for sickness and disease, foretell the future
and serve as an intermediary between man and the gods. What is interesting about these deities
and demons is the marked distinction which separates them from humanity by the visual cue of
blending human and animal anatomy. By gathering the archaeological and literary evidence
presented in this study, I hope that I have demonstrated that these divinities formed an important
and influential part of ancient Etruscan and Roman religion. The corpus of material and texts
gathered here is representative of one fascinating aspect of the culture of ancient Italy. By
examining these deities and demons, who have until now only received marginal attention in
mainstream scholarship, one is able to gain a broader perspective on the ability of the Etruscans
and Romans to use metaphors to make sense of their world and thus to become closer to men and
women who, like us, sought ways to define and understand the workings of the universe.
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Fig. I.1. Prehistoric Carved Ivory Figurine of a Man with a Lion’s Head from Hohlenstein-
Stadel, Germany, ca. 30,000 BCE, Ulm, Museum Der Stadt. After Putnam 1988, 467.
133

Fig. I.2. Roman Fresco Depicting a Priest of Isis, from the House of Loreius Tiburtinus,
Pompeii, ca. 1 st C CE. After De Vos 1990, No. 53.
134

Fig. II.1. Early Corinthian Alabastron Decorated with the Figure of Typhon, Unknown Provenance,
ca. 610-600 BCE, New Haven, Yale University Art Gallery. After Matheson 2004, No. 98.
135

Fig. II.2. Sculpture of the so-called Bluebeard Anguiped from the “Hekatompedon” on the Athenian
Acropolis, ca. 560 BCE, Acropolis Museum. After Hurwitt 2001, Pl. III.
136

Fig. II.3. Hellenistic Relief of Zeus Battling the Giants, from the Eastern Frieze of the Great Altar of
Pergamon, begun ca. 180 BCE, Berlin, Pergamon Museum. After Schmidt 1962, Ill. 7.
137

Fig. II.4. Etruscan Black Figure Hydria with Scene of Two Youths Attacking a Giant, Vulci, ca.
525-500 BCE, British Museum, London. After Spivey 1987, Fig. 14b.
138

Fig. II.5. Detail of an Etruscan Fresco of a Giant from The Tomb of the Typhon, in the Monterozzi
Necropolis, Tarquinia, 3 rd quarter of the 3 rd C BCE. After Pallottino 1952, p. 127.
139

Fig. II.6. Detail of an Etruscan Fresco of Charu(n) from the Entrance Wall of the Tomb of the
Anina Family, in the Scataglini Necropolis, Tarquinia, 3 rd to 2 nd C BCE. After Steingraber 1985,
Pl. 11.
140

Fig. II.7. Etruscan Fresco of Two Charu(n)s Flanking a False Door on the Right Wall of the
Tomb of the Charu(n)s in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, end of the 3 rd C BCE. After
Steingraber 1985, No. 55.
141

Fig. II.8. Rear Wall of the Tomb of the Reliefs with Anguiped and Kerberos, Banditaccia
Necropolis, Cerveteri, 3 rd quarter of the 4 th C BCE. After Brendel 1995, Fig. 309.
142

Fig. II.9. Roman Black Marble Statue of Aesculapius, Antium, ca. 150 CE, Capitoline Museum,
Rome. After Kerényi 1959, Ill. 7.
143

Fig. II.10. Roman Marble Statue of Aesculapius along with Salus Feeding the Sacred Serpent,
Found in the Forum of Praeneste, Hellenistic Period, Museo Vaticano, Rome. After Schouten
1967, Ill. 7.
144

Fig. II.11. Roman Bronze Medallion from the Reign of Antoninus Pius Depicting the Entry of
Aesculapius into Rome, Unknown Provenance, ca. 138-61 CE, Cabinet des Medaillés, Paris.
After Mambella 1997, Fig. 23.
145

Fig. II.12. Detail of a Roman Marble Statue (possibly a copy of a 4 th C BCE Greek original)
Depicting Aesculapius as a Prophetic Deity, ca. 130 CE, Pitti Palace, Florence. After Kerényi
1959, Ill. 44.
146

Fig. II.13. Lararium from the House of the Vettii (VI.15.1) with Fresco Depicting the Genius,
Lares, and Genius Loci, Pompeii, ca. 1 st C CE. After Pavlick 2006, Fig. 15.
147

Fig. II.14. Drawing of a Roman Fresco Depicting the God Harpocrates and the Genius Loci of
Mt. Vesuvius, from Herculaneum, 1 st C CE, Museo Nazionale, Naples. After Boyce 1942, Fig.
5.
148

Fig. III.1. Water Color Copy of an Etruscan Fresco Depicting Aita, Phersipnai, and Cerun in the
Tomb of Orcus II, in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, 2 nd half of 4 th C BCE. After Wellard
1973, p. 141.
149

Fig. III.2. Reconstruction of an Etruscan Fresco Depicting Aita and Phersipnai at a Funerary
Banquet in the Golini Tomb I, from Settecamini, 3 rd quarter of the 4 th C BCE, Orvieto, Museo
Archeologico Nazionale di Orvieto. After de Grummond 2006, Fig. X.27.
150

Fig. III.3. Etruscan Red-figured Oinochoe Depicting Phersipnai and Aita from the Torcop
Group, Produced at Caere, 2 nd half of the 4 th C BCE, Paris, Musée du Louvre. After Del Chiaro
1970, Fig. 1.
151

Fig. III.4. Detail of an Etruscan Polychrome Sarcophagus Depicting the Sacrifice of Trojan
Prisoners by Achilles, from Torre San Severo, late 4 th to early 3 rd C BCE, Orvieto, Museo
Claudio Faina. After Del Chiaro 1970, Fig. 4.
152

Fig. III.5. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of a Wolf-Hound Bearing a Dedicatory Inscription Related
to Calu, from Cortona, Date Unknown, Florence, Museo Archeologico. After Elliott 1995, Fig.
10.
153

Fig. III.6. Etruscan Bucchero Oinochoe with Anubis-like figure, from Chiusi, ca. 550 BCE,
Museo Nazionale Collezione Cassucini, Palermo. After Tusa 1956, Pl. XXXVIII, 2.
154

Fig. III.7. Roman White Marble Statue of Hermanubis, from Anzio, 1 st -2 nd C CE, Rome, Museo
Gregoriano Egizio del Vaticano. After Malaise 1972, Pl. 1.
155

Fig. III.8. Etruscan Painted Terracotta Cinerary Urn Depicting a Family Framed by Underworld
Demons, from Chiusi, 150-100 BCE, Berlin, Staatliche Museen. After Haynes 2000, Fig. 269.
156

Fig. III.9. Roman Bronze Statuette of Silvanus/Sucellus, from Vienne, ca. 14 CE, Baltimore,
Walters Art Gallery. After MacMullen 2000, Fig. 12.
157

Fig. III.10. Line Drawing of an Etruscan Alabaster Cinerary Urn Depicting Combat with a
Wolf-Demon, from Chiusi, 2 nd C BCE, Florence, Museo Archeologico. After Brunn and Körte
1872, Pl. III.9.4.
158

Fig. III.11. Etruscan Travertine Cinerary Urn Depicting Combat with a Wolf-Demon, San Sisto,
2 nd C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. After Defosse 1972, Pl. IV.
159

Fig. III.12. Etruscan Terracotta Cinerary Urn Depicting Combat with a Wolf-Demon, from
Perugia, 2 nd C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. After Defosse 1972, Pl. V.
160

Fig. III.13. Etruscan Bronze Ash Urn Depicting Warriors Encircling a Wild Beast, from
Bisenzio, 8 th C BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia. After Briguet 1986, Fig. IV.8.
161

Fig. III.14. Pontic Plate by the Tityos Painter, from Vulci, ca. 520 BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco
di Villa Giulia. After Heurgon 1991, Fig. 1.
162

Fig. III.15. Etruscan Terracotta Statuette of a God Wearing Wolf Skin, from Perugia, ca. 3 rd -2 nd
C BCE, Perugia, Museo Archeologico. After Elliott 1995, Fig. 14.
163

Fig. III.16. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of a God Wearing a Wolf Skin, from Città di Castello
(Perugia), 3 rd -2 nd C BCE, Current Location Unknown. After Minto 1927, Pl. LXXIIa.
164

Fig. IV.1. Greek Red Figure Bell Crater Depicting Pan Chasing a Young Shepherd by the Pan
Painter, from Cumae, 470 BCE, Boston, Museum of Fine Arts. After Beazley 1974, Pl. 2.
165

Fig. IV.2. Roman Bronze Statuette of Faunus Bearing a Branch, Unknown Date, Unknown
Provenance, Paris, Cabinet des Médailles de la Bibliothéque Nationale. After Babelon et
Blanchet 1895, Fig. 90.
166

Fig. IV.3. Roman Fresco Depicting Pan Amongst the Nymphs from the House of Jason
(IX.5.18) in Pompeii, 1 st quarter of the 1 st C CE, Naples, Museo Archeologico. After Ling 1991,
Fig. 123.
167

Fig. IV.4. Latin Painted Terracotta Antefix Depicting Juno Sospita, from Antemnae, Beginning
of the 5 th C BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco Nazionale Romano. After Cristofani 1990, Pl. XVI,
7.1.1.
168

Fig. IV.5. Etruscan “Pontic” Amphora Depicting Hercle and Menerva in Combat with Uni and
Tinia, from Cerveteri, late 6 th C BCE, London, British Museum. After Ducati 1968, Pl. 13.
169

Fig. IV.6. Etruscan Bronze Mirror Cover Depicting the Head of Juno Sospita, Odysseus, and
Penelope, from Tarquinia, 3 rd C BCE, Rome, Museo Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia. After
Richardson 1982, Pl. 9.1.
170

Fig. IV.7 Republican Roman Denarius Minted by L. Roscius Fabatus, Unknown Provenance,
ca. 57 BCE, London, British Museum. After Mattingly 1960, Pl XIII, 14.
171

Fig. IV.8. Imperial Roman Bronze Coin of Antoninus Pius Depicting Juno Sospita on its
Reverse, London, British Museum. After Mattingly 1940, Pl. 28.4.
172

Fig. IV.9. Colossal Marble Statue of Juno Sospita, Unknown Provenance, Antonine Period,
Rome, Vatican Museum. After Chiarucci 1983, Fig. 18.
173

Fig. IV.10. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of Menerva, Unknown Provenance, Late Archaic Period,
Modena, Galleria Estense. After Richardson 1983, Fig. 822.
174

Fig. IV.11. Etruscan Bronze Statuette Identified as Juno Sospita Wearing a Wolf-skin,
Unknown Provenance, 5 th C BCE, Florence, Archaeological Museum. After Richardson 1976,
Fig. 12.
175

Fig. V.1. Etruscan Engraved Bronze Mirror with the Death of the Minotaur at the Hands of
Hercle, Civita Castellana, Present Location Unknown, ca. 300 BCE. After Jurgeit 1986, P. 1071.
176

Fig. V.2. Etruscan Black-Figure Amphora Depicting Combat Between Hercle and the Minotaur,
Unknown Provenance, Paris, Louvre. After Torelli 2000, Fig. 215.
177

Fig. V.3. Etruscan Red-Figure Plate by the Settecamini Painter Depicting a Female Cradling an
Infant Bull-Man, Early 4 th C BCE, Paris, Bibliothéque Nationale, Cabinet des Médailles. After
Brendel 1995, Ill. 268.
178

Fig. V.4. Etruscan Cinerary Urn Depicting the a Scene with the Minotaur as an Infant, Unknown
Provenance, 2 nd C BCE, Volterra, Museo Archeologico. After Brunn and Körte 1872, Pl
XXIXa.
179

Fig. V.5. Roman Terracotta Revetment Plaque, from the Regia in the Roman Forum, ca. 610-
600 BCE, Rome, Antiquarium Forense. After Iacopi 1976, Fig. 27.
180

Fig. V.6. Detail of an Etruscan Fresco Depicting an Ithyphallic Man-bull from the Tomb of the
Bulls, located in the Monterozzi Necropolis, Tarquinia, ca. 540 BCE. After Leisinger 1953, Fig.
16.
181

Fig. V.7. Etruscan Bronze Mirror Depicting Hercle and Achlae Wrestling, ca. 350 BCE,
Unknown Provenance, Berlin, formerly Antiquarium. After Gerhard 1867, Pl. CCCXL.
182

Fig. V.8. Etruscan Terracotta Shell Antefix Decorated with the Head of a Horned God (Likely
Achelous), from the Portanaccio Sanctuary at Veii, end of the 6 th C BCE, Rome, Museo
Nazionale Etrusco di Villa Giulia. After Proietti 1980, Fig. 132.
183

Fig. V.9. Etruscan Gold Pendant Representing the Head of Achelous, Unknown Provenance, 6 th
C BCE, Paris, Louvre. After Briguet 1986, Fig. IV.10.
184

Fig. V.10. Etruscan Bronze Boss with Mask of Achelous, from Tarquinia, beginning of 5 th C
BCE, Rome, Museo Gregorio Etrusco. After Buranelli 1992, Cat. 24.
185

Fig. V.11. Etruscan Bucchero Oinochoe with the Head of a Calf or Bull, from Chiusi, 550-500
BCE, Florence, Museo Archeologico. After Cristofani 2000, p. 90.
186

Fig. VI.1. Line Drawing of an Etruscan Engraved Bronze Mirror Depicting the Greek Seer
Chalchas Performing the Etruscan Rite of Hepatoscopy, from Vulci, ca. 400 BCE, Rome, Museo
Gregoriano Etrusco. After De Grummond 2006, Fig. II.10.
187

Fig. VI.2. Line Drawing of an Engraved Etruscan Bronze Mirror Depicting Athrpa amongst the
Divine Couples Turan and Atunis and Atlenta and Meliacr, Perugia, ca. 320 BCE, Berlin,
Antiquarium. After Zimmer 1987, Fig. 19.
188

Fig. VI.3. Black Gloss Amphora in the Shape of a Woodpecker, Unknown Provenance, 420-400
BCE, New York, Metropolitan Museum of Art. After Capanna 2000, p. 225.
189

Fig. VI.4. Terracotta Antefix from Pyrgi Depicting a Man with the Head of a Bird, Late 6 th C
BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco di Villa Giulia. After Proietti 1986, Fig. 89.
190

Fig. VI.5. Reconstruction of Four of Six Antefixes from a Group Which Decorated the Row of
Cells Built in Conjunction with Temple B, from Pyrgi, Late 6 th C BCE, Rome, Museo Etrusco di
Villa Giulia. After Haynes 2000, Fig. 153.
191

Fig. VI.6. Monumental Stone Relief of an Assyrian Griffin Demon from the Royal Palace of
King Assurnasirpal II at Kalhu, ca 883-859 BCE, located at Kalhu (modern Nimrud). After
Black and Green 1997, Fig. 78.
192

Fig. VI.7. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of the “Swan Demon,” Unknown Provenance, Late Archaic
Period, Paris, Louvre. After Richardson 1983, Fig. 868.
193

Fig. VI.8. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of the “Swan Demon” Which Decorated a Lamp, Possibly
from the Area of Naples, ca. 300-200 BCE, London, British Museum. After Haynes 1985, Fig.
198.
194

Fig. VI.9. Etruscan Bronze Statuette of a “Swan Demon” Supported by a Youth Wearing a
Beast’s Skin, Unknown Provenance, ca. 3 rd C BCE, Florence, Museo Archeologico. After
Herbig 1965, Pl. 50.
195

Fig. VI.10. Line Drawing of the Tondo in an Apulian Drinking Cup Depicting Ganymede Being
Abducted by a Swan, Unknown Date, Unknown Provenance, Formerly Ruvo, Fenicia Collection
(Now Lost). After Krauskopf 1980, Fig. 1.
196

Fig. VI.11. Fragment of an Etruscan Black Figure Vase from the Orvieto Group Depicting an
Underworld Demon with the Head of a Bird of Prey, Unknown Provenance, beginning of the 5 th
C BCE, Göttingen, Archäologisches Institut. After Krauskopf 1987, Pl. II.d.
197

Fig. VI.12. Water Color Rendition of a Fresco Depicting the Demon Tuchulcha Menacing the
Hero These (Greek Theseus) with a Serpent from Tomb of Orcus II, in the Monterozzi
Necropolis, Tarquinia, 2 nd quarter of 4 th C BCE. After Krauskopf 2006, Fig. V.6.
198

ANCIENT WORKS CITED
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Ar. Plut. 687-90. 38-9
Ar. Plut. 727-38. 39
Cic. De Rep. III.14 6
Cic. Nat. D. I.29.82. 84-5
Cic. Nat. D. III.19, 47-8. 7
Dion. Hal. 1.14.5. 113
Hdt. IV.105.2 58
Hor. Car. 1.17.1-10. 78
Hor. Epist. II.1.156-7. 22
IG IV.1. nos. 122.XXXII. 42
Juv. Sat. XV.1-8. 11
Liv. Per. XI. 41
Ov. Fas. 2.335-50, 357-8. 79
Ov. Fas. 3.291-311. 69
Ov. Met. I.230-9. 57
Ov. Met. II.367-77. 121
Ov. Met. IX.80-8. 106
Ov. Met. XIV.387-96. 114
Ov. Met. XV.653-62. 41
Pausanias 8.2.6. 57
Petron. Sat. 62. 58
Plin. HN, 2.54.140. 67
Plin. HN 8.81. 58
Plut. De Is. et Os. 71. 9
Plut. Vit. Rom. IX.5 111
Prop. IV.8.3-14. 88
Pseudo-Aurelius Victor Origo Gentis Romanae III.6 64
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Serv. Ad. Aen. VII, 761. 37
Val. Max. VII.3.8. 3
Verg. Aen. V.84-96. 44
Verg. Aen. VIII.670-3. 8
Verg. Aen. XI.783-8. 55
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BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH
Wayne L. Rupp, Jr was born in New Orleans, LA on Nov. 25, 1974. He obtained his BA
in Classical Civilizations and English Literature from Loyola University of New Orleans and an
MA in Classical Archaeology from University of Arizona in Tucson as well as an MA in Latin
from Florida State University. In addition to teaching experience obtained at Florida State, he
has also taught at the Intercollegiate Center for Classical Studies in Rome and Oberlin College in
Oberlin, Ohio. His publications include an article entitle “The Vegetal Goddess in the Tomb of
the Typhon” based on a paper delivered at the Etruscans Now conference held in London in 2002
at the British Museum. His fieldwork includes one season of excavation at Chianciano Terme
with University of Arizona in 1998 and four seasons of excavation at Poggio delle Civitelle with
Florida State University from 1999-2003.
225